#that was twenty minutes ago. so my sleep deprived best friend is going to be forcibly woken up in 10 minutes and told to call me

[fingertipsmp3]

Just sitting here eating breadsticks in the calm before the storm tbh

[sooniesspot]

Coming Down | myg

Okay, so here's the second installment of my BADLANDS Series. This is loosely based around Coming Down by Halsey. I realise I haven't really done them in a specific order, just the one I am pulled to next to write.

Warnings: Dom!Yoongi, Sub!Reader, mentions of slight work stress and societal pressures of being a woman, you know. All that good stuff.

Reader is a F E M I N I S T and proudly so. Loose mention of not wanting kids (which is fine btw) this is just a whole load of smut, not much fluff as it's FWB but.

Okay so, oral, f & m receiving, face fucking, fingering, multiple orgasms, rough sex, light spanking, choking (for like a milisecond) use of ties, slight sensory deprivation, slight body worship, overstimulation. Slight name-calling?? Yoongs says kitten ironically. Use of safe word/safe signal. Yoongles has a Sir Kink. (I can only apologise) Reader has a hand kink (obvs) just wants to get off and relieve stress, Yoongi is happy to be their relief.

word count: 9.8k 👀🐸☕ don't @ me

'I found God, I found him in a lover'

It was a normal Thursday evening, you'd finished work at 6pm on the dot and took the bus home. Fishing for your keys as you approached the front door of your apartment. Key in the lock, turn. Open. Silence. Walking into your hallway, slippers not quite on the rack by the front door as you rushed out of them into your heels this morning. Just where you left them. Sliding off your heels with a sigh as you trudged into your slippers, immediately comforted by the soft memory foam that supported your tiresome toes. Returning your heels to the rack. Shrugging off your bag and long coat, reaching nearly 2 feet above you on your tiptoes to hang your bag and coat on the coat rack. Muttering to yourself like you did every day. 'Coat and bag, then heels. Won't have to stretch so much.' Venturing into the living room. Magazine on the coffee table infront of the sofa where you had left it last night.

Empty. Not that you expected anyone to be home. No one making you dinner you didn't want, or taking up the whole sofa, or hogging the remote. You lived alone, and you liked it. Sure, for a pretty young girl in her mid twenties you often had looks and questions.

'When are you going to find the one?'

'When will you settle down and have a family?'

And truth be told, you didn't want to settle down. You had told your mother from a young age that you didn't want children, whether that would change over time or not you weren't sure. It hadn't changed. You still wanted your independence and that was okay. Women were not put on this earth just to bear children and you were the firmest believer in that. You liked your life just the way it was. A job you loved that you worked hard for, an apartment you were proud of and nearly every night you got to sleep in your own bed, alone, no one to whine at when they snored or your body being used as a warmer for their cold feet. The few nights you were away from your bed came from your once in a while rendezvous with an acquaintance of yours. Although you knew eachother more than mere acquaintances should.

You met at a bar some time ago. Lights flashed, sure to give you a migraine and music so loud your eardrums could burst at any given moment. You were dragged out to this stingy bar by your bestfriend in her attempt to finally get noticed by that one guy. Even in her twenties she was still as smitten as when you were both back at school. You wore a simple black dress with a low cut front, skirt just above the knee and plain black heels. Hair not much different to your everyday, maybe a few waves here and there and some more mascara than your normal work volume. Trying your best to blend in but still having the ornate ability to have eyes on you in any setting.

You spent a lot of time on the dance floor until your friend had found her prey and you circled around the bar. Much rather wanting to stay at home with a tub of ice cream and your cat watching some terrible reality show about Cabin Crew on a cruise ship. Shouting at the TV to throw the nasty woman overboard; waving your spoon at the screen as your cat looked on in understanding almost. But here you were, slumped against a sticky varnished oak bar, propped up on an old velvet stool, twisting your straw in your glass, nonchalantly spinning the steadily melting ice as you listened to your friend talking to her guy. Suddenly feeling a hot hand against your lower back and someone lean over the bar between you and your otherwise occupied friend. Looking up at a pale man to your left.

" Whiskey on the rocks. " came his order to the bar tender; sharp, leaving no room for anything blasé.

Catching his eye, he looked you over once with a subtle bite of his lip and the flick of his tongue at the seam of his mouth; eyebrow raised with a lingering smirk before he vanished into the sea of people again with his drink.

Dumbfounded, you sat there, staring at the now empty spot where he had been mere seconds ago, the now cool expanse of your lower back where his large hand once was, fizzing. Swinging round on your stool, propping your elbow on the bar behind you, your eyes scanned the room. It wasn't the biggest bar. It wouldn't take long to find him.

Soon you caught eyes with him across the dance floor, stood with his taller, tanned friends as he held the whiskey glass firm in his hand; talking amongst themselves. Dark Brown, almost black hair feathered across his forehead, just above his twinkling chocolate eyes. Thin upper lip pressing to his plumper bottom lip before perfect white teeth graced your vision in an endearing gummy smile. Eyes still not catching you between the bodies of people dancing. Several silver hoop earrings in each ear. He wore a long black sweatshirt, black ripped jeans and boots. A couple of silver rings adorned his strong fingers.

You took a sip of your drink, gaze intermittently fluttering in his direction as you scanned the room, your friend had left to go and dance. Eyes found her and you nodded, knowing she was fine. As your stare focused back on the man before you he finally looked up, catching your eye with his, dark and mysterious. His lips pulling into a smirk again as he gazed at you. Heat bubbling in your chest from his wandering eyes on your body through the gap in people on the dance floor. He eventually made his way over to you and whispered a few words into your ear. Cool and calm.

" Come back to my hotel. "

And so you did. One slightly drunk, intense one night stand later and here you were, 6 months down the line sleeping with eachother whenever he was in town. A classic Friends With Benefits situation, although you weren't really friends.

You walked into your kitchen, greeting your ginger tabby cat with a kiss as she meowed at you in greeting. Grabbing yourself a glass for water and pouring kibble into her bowl on the floor, your routine monotonous but you didn't mind. Your cat tucking into her dinner as you filled up your glass, taking a sip. Looking at delivery menus on your fridge under old magnets from previous travels, deciding on Chinese; plucking the menu from the fridge, you had a training day for other colleagues at work tomorrow which meant a day off for you. No needing to cook dinner and get an early night tonight. Placing your glass and the menu on the coffee table in the living room, you switched on the tv, chucking any random show on then bumbling along to your room, opening the door. Greeted by quiet and serenity. No dirty pants on the floor or unmade bed. You smiled with contentment, unzipping your dress to pool at your feet before tossing it into your wash basket. You looked at yourself in the mirror, your most dependable black bra and panty set glaring back at you as you fixed your hair into a ponytail and wiped off your makeup. Throwing on a sweatshirt and some leggings. A short while later you plopped yourself down on the sofa and switched on the tv, greeting your cat with a scratch under her chin as she sauntered into the room, hopping up on the sofa with you.

Zoning out to the world around you as a terrible drama played on in the background as you glanced over the menu, not really paying attention to anything in particular. You had been a little stressed over the past couple of weeks, mounting pressures of a new senior in your department threatening to change everything you had sculpted into a balanced working environment over the last 3 years. Societal pressures and backhanded compliments from your mother's 'garden party' friends concerning whether or not you were defective in choosing a man. Or having one choose you. But in reality, the truth is, you had a stable relationship previously, unfortunately he was a dick and you're not stupid. So the single life had been your rather quiet reality for the last 18 months. No one to answer to or to worry about. Just you and your cat.

Your mothers friends never seemed to understand that, always too engrossed in whether or not you had a man on top of you every night to see that their husbands had found other, much younger women to be on top of. All of this filtering through the crack in your hardened shell, filling your mind with alternate realities until you got a text coming through. Cutting through all the fuzz that piqued in your brain. Picking up your phone, you saw who it was. Him.

'I'm in town, come over?' 

Your reply was short and sweet.

'Sure, be over in 20.'

Snapping out of your previous thoughts and placing the menu back on the coffee table you sat and pondered for a minute. This was fine. This was what you needed. To let off some steam, in a judgement free setting. No cold glances your way, or harsh words uttered, unless it was you being tied to the headboard again like you had been convinced to try last time with his unadulterated gaze looking down at you writhing underneath him. The thought alone had your hair standing on end and a shiver running through you as you stood from the sofa, heading to your room.

Sifting through your wardrobe to pull on some old trainers, checking yourself in the mirror not really knowing why. In your hallway you made sure the lights in the apartment were off and your cat was happy, tucked up in the corner of the sofa snoozing away. Making sure you had your keys and phone in your bag, you left, key in the lock, turn. Locked. Walking down the hallway and down to the ground floor, heading out of the building to head right. The hotel he always stayed at was only a block or so away so the walk was relatively short. The sun was setting now as it hid behind the skyscrapers that canopied the city. Passers by making their way home or even to work. Still lots of cars on the road and bicycles that weaved in and out of traffic. The breeze was light and cherry blossoms danced in the air, separating from a tree as you passed a nearby park. The air was cool, as it would be in early May. Not too hot. Reminded of your journey, that first night.

'When his hair falls in his face and his hands so cold they shake'

You had left swiftly after his original proposition, making up some story about your cat or an early work meeting or something. Anything to get you out of there and with him. His hand returned to the small of your back as you left the bar, being ushered into an awaiting taxi outside. Shuffling all the way over to the other side, he slid in next to you blurting out the address to the hotel at the driver. Hair falling in his face. Eyes wild as they sparkled from the reflection of the dim streetlights. Smirking at you as the same powerful hand you had grown accustomed to on your back, made a home on your knee, slightly tucked under the skirt of your dress. It was now cold to the touch. Strong and intimidating as the taxi started to drive away. Not being able to take his eyes off you he leant forward and whispered in your ear.

" You look so delicious. " His voice low that reverberated through you, straight to your core as he squeezed your knee. Uttering the last syllable with a kitten lock to the shell of your ear.

To this you bit your lip and shifted uncomfortably in your seat. His hand, in turn sliding further up under your dress to the wider expanse of your thigh. The material of your dress pressing his hand taught against your skin.

He swooped down to your ear again, pressing an open mouthed kiss under your ear before he whispered " can't wait to taste you. "

You keened away from his grasp to no avail. He knew what he was doing to you, breath shallow and flighty in your chest as his teeth tugged at your earlobe.

"Please " You breathed, the first word you uttered to him.

Not really sure what you were pleading him for but the fire in your chest and the dampness of your panties flourished an urgency within you that was incorrigible. He smirked again at this, eyes dancing like Fireflies in the night. The hand that was to his side while the other hid between your thighs came up to cup your cheek, turning your face towards him.

"Soon. " He chuckled before biting your lip.

Drawn back to reality, passing people and cars. Your trainers pulling you towards your destination as your head had an argument with your feet. Was this a good idea? You didn't want to get yourself into a situation where either of you caught feelings. You were a pro at being a cold hearted bitch now but the odd sincere glance your way, especially from him seemed to melt your resolve, even just a little. Recounting the previous times you had taken this walk and what it would lead to.

After your first night with him, it was like a drug. You always wanted more. To say he was good in the bedroom was a complete cop out. He was...He was something. Made you feel things you'd never felt before and noises you'd never in your wildest dreams imagine yourself making. At decibels only a dog could hear. So once the addiction started, you started seeing one another everytime he was in town. Sometimes a couple of times in a week. That went on for a solid 4 months and as work pressures mounted, you fell distant. Always busy catching up with work or having some alone time with your thoughts and your cat. He also got busy, having to travel more for work. You didn't really know much about except it was important and you felt based on the guitar he always packed with him, propped up against the wall in the corner of the room, it was something to do with music.

'I found a devil, I found him in a lover'

The last time you had seen eachother had been a little over 2 weeks ago. That night you'd stayed, which didn't come easily. You were adamant you would leave as soon as you'd cleaned up, even telling him so as he helped you wash in the bathroom, almost requesting a second round when he looked at you through the mirror with those sparkling brown eyes like the devil, but you had been so wound up and pushed to your limits that you felt sleep take you as soon as your body hit the mattress again. Memories of restraints, dark water colours that created the murky palette of his hotel room and the low thumping of your heart, even as you entered the apartment, seeing him there, a tie in hand and a coy smirk. That night he had called you. He never called.

" You busy? " He sounded gruff like he'd just finished working out - which you knew not to be the case.

"When am I ever busy? " You rebuttled with a laugh.

He joined you, then you could hear him grin down the phone. A different sort of grin. A devious one.

"I wanted to try something. "

There was quiet, you wished him to continue silently.

"Something I can't stop thinking about doing to you. " He whispered lowly.

Your ears on fire and furiously red in the face you hung up. Chucking a quick 'omw' text to him in return. That night had been the best sex you'd ever had. That's why you'd stayed. For fear of walking into oncoming traffic at 2am because of your disorientated state.

Your heart skipped a beat at the anticipation of what was to come once you knocked on the door and it sent a thrill through you. Rounding the corner you were met with a bleak grey concrete block of apartments that made up the hotel with a black sign. Crossing the street after looking both ways you jogged up the steps as you saw the door beginning to close after a couple just exited. Sliding in you headed straight for the elevator.

He always had the same hotel room which avoided any confusion. You ran to the elevator that had just opened and pressed the 7th floor. Alone again your mind wandered to your first night here, in this lift.

You'd both stumbled out of the taxi and shuffled over to the lift, he pressed the elevator button furiously as he got impatient; leaning against eachother. As soon as the lift doors were closed he pressed you against the wall, face millimetres from yours as his nose skimmed over yours. Both of your breathing, laboured and slow. His large hands roamed your body; your waist, up and down your thighs. Gripping at the flesh as if he owned it. You wanted him to. God you wanted him to own all of you in that moment. Gaze intense and unwavering as the mysterious glint in his eye grew. His hands slid around the curve of your ass which made you stutter, giving it a harsh squeeze that made you lose your breath.

"I'm gonna ruin you." He whispered devilishly in your ear as he bit the shell.

Pulled out of your reverie as the elevator doors dinged open, signalling you had reached your floor, face burning as you stepped out of the lift, cold fingers pressed to your cheeks to try and cool them. Preparing yourself for what man would greet you at the door. You never knew which one you would get. Sometimes he was ravenous and you never made it to the bed, lipstick smeared and tights ripped as he never had time to waste when he felt such a desperate need for you. Or you would get the cool calm and collected man that caught your eye that night all those months ago. That was, until he got you here. Alone with him.

Walking down the corridor to his room now, counting the doors as they seemed to go on for miles, dark in wood with numbers etched in gold with golden handles. Your breath starting to slip away from you as you imagined as soon as you opened that door you wouldn't be able to breathe steadily again for a while. Room 93. (Shoutout to Halsey's first EP) There it was. You slowed to a stop, almost nervous to knock. 'Just knock' You muttered to yourself. Rolling your eyes as you fidgeted on the spot, sighing as you raised your hand to knock on the door. Knock. Wait. Silence.

You were waiting for a little while which was unlike any other time. Checking your watch and the door number. You waited a little longer and you were just about to walk away when the door opened slowly. You turned; met with the same dancing brown eyes you caught in yours all those months ago, although slightly sunken, maybe he hadn't been sleeping well? His lean frame propped up against the door. Arms folded over his broader chest. Hair fluffed over his forehead, slightly damp. Pale skin flawless and glowing against the dark background of his hotel room and the darkness of his simple black tee and sweatpants. Silver hoops still adorned his ears and rings still glistened on his beautiful hands. Eyes unwavering as they honed in on you. Smirk playing on his thin lips.

"You're early." He mumbled all knowingly, looking at the rings that adorned his knuckles, as if he were about to connect them with a wall.

You stuttered, heart in your mouth as you gawked at the man. Feeling like a naughty school girl that was about to get a ruler spanked across her a-. You stopped the thought for fear of collapsing in the hallway. His eyes still on you, looking you up and down. You mentally slapped yourself for your attire. Sweatshirt and leggings. Not sexy in the slightest. Anyway. Why did you care? Not like you wanted to impress him, right? After another beat his strong arm pulled you in the room by the collar of your sweatshirt, closing the door swiftly behind you and pinning you up against it.

"Just means I have more time." He whispered against your lips.

Sweeping strands of hair out of your face delicately, tucking his fingers behind your ears. He smiled at you, his gummy smile. You never thought that smile would be directed at you. Let alone in this setting.

'With his lips like tangerines, and his colour-coded speak'

His lips moulded to yours with a sudden urgency. Teeth and tongue caressing your lips with power and want. Heavy breaths exchanged as you dropped your bag; hands trying to find purchase somewhere sturdy and stable. Deciding upon the strength of his arms. Eyes closing as you were swept away in the moment of teeth and tongue and pent up tension and wanton need for eachother. His fingers pulling out your hairband so your hair pooled around your face. His fingers lacing through the soft locks as he grinned against your lips. Always having an ornate infatuation with how silky your hair was. How good it felt wrapped around his fist as he fucked you into the mattress. How it spread out behind you like waves across the crisp white bedsheets, framing your face perfectly as you slept.

He missed this. Maybe he missed you. Jolted back from his sweet thoughts, hearing you start to mumble against his lips as he continued to pin you up against the door, your head firmly in his hands.

"Yoongi." You murmured again, slurring the word slightly; drunk off the potent lust he cradled you with.

He never let up from your lips, intent on breathing you in. Hands untangling themselves from your hair as his cool calm hands landed on your shoulders, moving you away from the door to pin you to a wall, nearer to the bed. An eventual destination set in his mind. He couldn't get enough of you. Your hands travelled to cup his cheeks. His lips dry against yours gaining moisture from the saliva rolling around in your mouths as your tongues fought. Small whimpers beginning to swim their way into the air. Music to his ears. Of all the music he'd ever had a hand in creating, he wished he could emulate your tiny whimpers. Your cries for more of him. All of him. Wanting to devour him whole.

"Fuck" He exclaimed, finally pulling away from you, heavy breathing as his forehead was against yours.

Not even giving you time to breath he reached for the hem of your sweatshirt, pulling it over your head to reveal your gorgeous body to his hungry eyes. Knowing now that hiding from his gaze would be futile. An attempt at covering up would leave your ass raw and marks all over every single inch of your body. God's above. He made you feel like the only girl in the world, to him you practically were. He never sought out for any other attention or company from other women. The taste of you as often as he could have you was more than enough to satiate his heart.

He made quick work of your bra before throwing his own shirt off onto the growing pile on the floor. His hands, rough against your soft, plush breasts as his thumbs circled around your pebbling nipples. His teeth latching onto your bottom lip, humming as he looked into your steadily closing eyes. Teeth venturing south along your jaw to your neck and collarbone as he began to grab at the skin of your waist after he finished moulding your breasts; as if trying to memorise the feeling of them in his hands. The weighted comfort he had grown to adore about your chest. Teeth sinking in, enticing low gasps and the tiniest of squeaks as he would bite too hard on already sensitive flesh, intent on getting every inch of your skin covered in small indentations from his teeth. Tongue lascivious against the contours of your neck and collarbones, sickly sweet taste of your skin that drove him wild.

'Now we're lost somewhere in outer space, in a hotel room where demons play'

All you could do was pant and mule against him, your hands in his steadily drying locks. Suddenly pulling away as he untied the drawstring of his pants.

"Knees, now." He whispered authoritively and you happily obeyed.

Flicking your hair off your shoulder you sank down onto your knees. Eyes ignited with a fire he practically stoked out of you. You admired his body on the journey down. Body lithe and pale, defined arms and chest with a flat stomach, no six pack or defined v lines that led to the promising tent that you saw in your line of sight. Just a small happy trail of hair from below his belly button sneaking into the hem of his sweatpants. Swiftly taking them down and off you were greeted with black boxers, looking tight around his cock cased within. You licked your lips in anticipation as his fingers forked through the hair on your scalp. Looking up to his face as he gazed down at you with a stern look in his own eyes; burning into your already flushed skin.

"Someone looks like they've missed this." He smirked as your hand rose to palm him through his boxers.

He released a low hum at the feeling of your hand cupping his balls. You knew that he was very sensitive there, from past experiences.

"Does the slut want my cock?" He asked, a feather of a chuckle rumbled in his chest at your immediate nod as you ran your tongue over the seem of your lips.

Your fingers delved underneath the fabric as you began to pull them down. Sudden slap to your hands had you shying away from him.

"Hungry sluts have to wait don't they, kitten?" His eyes zeroing in on your reaction to the pet name.

You gritted your teeth in vague annoyance at the name, after the first night, you told him you had to be home for your cat. Finding it oddly adorable you were a cat lady he called you kitten ironically, now it's stuck. Your eyes looking away from him, turning your head slightly towards the large window that showed the rest of the city. Twinkling lights now shining in the moonlight. His hand gripped your chin, pulling your attention back to him, forcing you to look up into his devious eyes.

"I don't think you answered me, slut." He snarled; releasing your chin from his grasp.

Your heart jumped in your chest.  "Y-yes, sir."

He smirked again, feeling triumphant he patted your head, thumb smoothing over your hair line with ghost like touches before running it along the seem of your mouth, popping his thumb in, flat against your tongue. Closing your lips around him, beginning to suck, big eyes gazing up at him.

"Good girl." He whispered before removing his thumb from your mouth and yanking his boxers down and stepping out of them.

His fingers danced through his damp hair as his cock sprung up against his stomach, a muted groan as the cool air touched his reddened and straining cock. Your eyes widened, never getting used to the sight of his cock, inches away from your salivating mouth, making your panties pool with a carnal need for him to be inside you. Your hands began to rub up and down your jeans clad thighs, waiting with baited breath for him to give you the command. This man and the things you'd do for him would have others question if you were a feminist or not. How a strong single woman with a steady career and bustling social life could want to be so utterly defiled by a man and be at his every whim really flipped your ideology on its head. But a drug was a drug, and you were high on him like cocaine.

"Alright, stop giving me those bedroom eyes." He gushed, dominating voice faltering as he gazed down at you, waiting and ready for him to let you begin.

You fluttered your eyelashes at him, big and bold. Biting your lip as your hands rubbed along your thighs again.

"Fuck, just get over here." He laughed, holding the base of his cock in his hand as your hands slunk up his sturdy pale thighs.

Fingertips sending sparks through his body. Your lips reaching his tip, you looked up at him again as you kitten licked his bulbous tip, testing it. Like testing a car. He hissed to which you smirked. You took your tongue to lick the underside of his cock lightly, teasing his frenulum before swirling your tongue round his tip several times. He puffed out a harsh breath but never said a word, fingers beginning to weave into your hair with a softness you were unfamiliar with. Surrounding the tip with your lips as you slowly sunk the head into your waiting mouth. Giving kitten links to the underside again as you sucked on his tip for a moment. Yoongis breath was heavy, you could tell by his chest moving, half lidded eyes looking down at you as you took more of him in slowly. Tongue still licking everywhere you could. Your other hand still positioned on his thigh as you rubbed small circles in it with your thumb.

Starting to take him deeper in your mouth and pulling him back out for breath had him seeing double. His vision was blurred as he could feel your heavenly lips wrap around his strained cock, precum and spit starting to pool at the corners of your mouth; threatening to spill as you bobbed your head back and forth on his dick. Setting up a rhythm you plunged him in deep so your nose touched his abdomen and he threw his head back with a grunt; gritting his teeth.

"Uh, fuck. Your mouth is so good" He whispered into the air.

'I've got a lover and I'm unforgiven, I'm such a fool to pay this price'

Your mouth worked on him as well as it could. You would take a lot of him in and proceed to gag which made him grunt. As your hand began to work at the base of his shaft. Giving him your all. Making up for lost time.

"Fuck, I'm not gonna last." He hissed. His hands in spearing through your hair as his thumbs rubbed at your scalp.

"I should've kept my hands to myself... Always impatient." He chuckled menacingly to himself; shaking his head.

Your breath was heaving as you pulled back from him. Hands gripping his thighs tight as you looked up at the man towering above you.

"What do you say, will you let me fuck your mouth like a good pet?"  He asked, hands still in your hair.

"Make me cum, then it's your turn? How about it, kitten?"

No hesitation in your eyes as you gazed up at him as if he had hand painted all of the stars in the sky. You nodded profusely and he grinned at you; swiping the spit away from the corner of your mouth with his thumb.

"Good girl, remember your safe signal?"  He asked, almost sweet in his tone.

You tapped the back of his thigh 3 times with your finger and he nodded. Feathering his fingers through your hair again, your hand still at the base of his dick lining him up to your waiting mouth. You gave him the go ahead as he thrusted shallowly into your mouth at first. Finally in your mouth his hands speared through your hair behind your ears to hold you still as he began to move his hips back and forth. You had done this before. Let him do this. But this time was so raw and so needy you honestly couldn't fathom how much you needed this. And it wasn't even your turn. He began to set up a rhythm working his length deeper with every thrust; starting to make you gag as you tried your best to relax. He breathed in sharply, his head thrown back as he pumped in and out. His shaft gliding smoothly across your tongue and beginning to slip down your throat as you sputtered around him. Hands firmly gripping the back of his thighs, the same way he was gripping your hair.

"Fuck, fuck. Your mouth. Kills me." He mumbled to himself; thinking you couldn't hear.

You looked up at him, a picture of bliss. Arms locked in place, keeping you still as he slid in and out of your mouth, picking up speed now. The veins in his neck; protruding under a velvet blanket of Frosted skin. Teeth gritted and brows furrowed. He looked down to see you already watching him. To this he groaned deep within his chest at the sight of you so willing and ready for him. Setting his nerves alight he could feel his orgasm approaching. Gripping your hair even tighter as he gave you a moment to breath before jackhammering into your mouth with a low whine.

"Fuck. Holy shit." He whispered before you felt his cock twitch deep in your throat and thick ropes of cum travel down it as he came; hips jerking at weird angles as you noticed sweat beading across his neck and collarbones; reaching up to his hairline.

After he had composed himself he pulled out of your mouth and you swallowed everything still left in your mouth before opening your mouth to show it was empty. He ran a solid hand through his own hair before he pulled you to your feet; planting a heavy kiss to your lips as he walked you back towards the bed. Practically pushing you back on it with a soft bounce. He suddenly rounded to the other side of the hotel room rummaging through a suitcase. Soon returning with several black ties in hand. Giving you a knowing smirk. You felt your stomach sink at the memory of your last adventure with this man. In this hotel room. With those ties. But judging by the look on his face and the fact his previously lifeless cock had begun to spring to life again; you knew it was different.

'I found a martyr, he told me that I'd never'

He began to move you up the bed to where he saw fit. Nodding when he had got you where he wanted. Straddling your waist he grabbed an arm tying the tie around your wrist to then loop it around the headboard. He soon did the same to the other one. Then finally you saw him gazing down at you from above before he slipped a soft silk tie over your eyes fastening it behind your head. Everything went black, but you could hear him; feel him. All around you. Feeling weight either side of your head you suddenly felt breath over your nipple; squirming at the sensation and your clothed pussy clenching around nothing. You felt him kitten lock his way along your breast before landing an unexpected bite against your neck, causing you to pull against the restraints with a sharp intake of breath.

"Remember your safe word, kitten?" He whispered in your ear.

You nodded. "Seesaw."

He sat back on his heels; still straddling you. Crossing his arms with a nod.

"Why is it Seesaw, again?" You ask, a grin sliding onto your face.

He chuckled at this before you felt weight lifted from the bed. You skin crawling with goosebumps as you waited with anticipation. Suddenly feeling deft fingers pulling your leggings and panties down in one swift movement. A beat of silence. Feeling like forever until you felt the same fingers, calloused but oh so soft against the skin of your collarbone.

"You don't remember?" He whispered into the darkness.

You shook your head no as your body began to squirm. Feeling his finger trail delicately down to your chest, followed by his other pointer finger on his left. Circling your nipples in precise motions. You sucked in a breath and your back arched as you felt him blow cool air onto the perking bud.

"Oh kitten, it was the bar where we first met" You could hear the smirk evident in his voice as his fingers trailed underneath the curve of your breasts.

"The night I took you home and ate you so good you nearly passed out." A dry chuckle left his lips at the gasp that left your own.

He began to drag his sturdy fingers slowly; tantalisingly, in soft motions towards your belly button where he would branch out with delicate touch; placing more fingers on your skin as they circled your hipbones. Finally sloping down to your thighs where his grip became firm and he pryed your legs apart to expose you to him. Heat flashing across your face as you whimpered at the action. Oh god. The things he made you feel. You felt electricity surge through your body, bouncing off your bones as you heard him hum.

"Mmmm. So wet, just from sucking my cock, kitten?"

You bit your lip with a whine; nodding profusely. Blush creeping across your cheeks. He seemed to like this as you heard a deep rumbled in his chest in approval. You could feel the bed dip slightly due to transferred weight. Right between your legs. Shit. If only you could see him. What was he doing? Was he pleased? Oh fuck, you didn't shave your le- your thoughts were far removed as you felt lips across the inside of your thigh; just above your knee.

"Shit, I can't wait to taste you." He whispered; sending cool air rushing up to your core.

Feeling his lips drag effortlessly along your thigh to where you wanted him most; needed him. He was tender; savouring the moment. He had missed this, giving you what you wanted. Watching you underneath him. Tasting you; devouring you. That's why he was so quick to cum the first time around. Too excited by the thought of having you again he had started to touch himself in the shower. Thinking of your soft, sweet body; Bending to his every whim. Your mouth stuffed full of his cock. Your enticing wet pussy that always made you blush at the sounds it would make, as he would fuck you. Hard and rough. He groaned at the thought before his face was level with your heat. Soft breaths that made your body wriggle; desperate to escape and want more; all at once. He hooked your knees over his elbows as he held your legs down. blowing against your exposed clit and watching your pussy clench around nothing; glistening with your essence he hungered for.

'With his educated eyes, and his head between my thighs'

"Mmmm. Sweet pussy baby girl." He kissed the apex of your thigh watching you writhe against the restraints. He hadn't even started yet. You were in for a long night.

You didn't seem to notice the name at first. It wasn't what he had called you any of the times before. But as the air thinned out around you; feeling the silence weighted around the room like a thick curtain and nothing was corrected, it almost felt affectionate; coming from his sinful lips that had just attached themselves to your-

"Fuck." Your breath caught as you threw your head back against the mattress.

Feeling lips suckling against your clit with vigor. He knew what you liked and knew how to get you where he wanted you. His tongue began lapping at your clit as his lips sucked where they could. Your breathing was heavy and you tried to pull against the restraints; your legs restless as the odd whimper left parted lips. His eyes although you couldn't see him, were focused on you. Watching every bite of your lip, every salacious moan or whimper; every gasp. You began rocking your hips in a rhythm against his tongue and he moaned at the pressure you posed against him. Trying to feel some friction as his throbbing cock had sprung to life from your first whimper; sandwiched between his abdomen and the mattress.

"God, this pussy is so good." He moaned; muffled by your legs trying so hard to clamp around his head as he continued his ministrations.

Soon enough you could feel the familiar rope spread throughout your body, begin to coil; tight as a spring before you felt a nip to your clit and you unravelled underneath him. Feeling weightless and weighted all at once. Stars beneath the blanket of the silk tie; delicate against your eyes. Head thrashing around as arms pulled with all their might against the restraints. Your back arched as you moaned loudly; legs starting to shake at the force of your orgasm. But that wasn't the end.  He flicked his tongue against your swollen clit with more intent. Determined to push you through another orgasm before he even started using his fingers. God his fingers. Your lower body began to lift off the bed as his grip on your legs only got tighter.

"Fuck, fuck Yoongi. Oh my fucking g-"

You heard an animalistic growl as you felt another nip to your clit; yelping at the sudden spark of pain amongst your pleasure.

"Sir. Stick to the rules." He punctuated with a slap to your clit. Back arching for a moment as you felt a pulse throughout your body.

"Or I'll keep biting." He mumbled the last part.

You pouted. "Yes sir." You could feel your orgasm beginning to ebb away as he took longer to return to your clit.

You whined and you felt breath on your clit again as he chuckled. Although your predicament was purely casual. Wanting to get off essentially was your main goal. Neither of you ever rushed. Enjoying one another's company. Feeling his slick, swift tongue dancing along your clit again you moaned; trying so hard to keep quiet out of respect for neighbours as you tried resting your mouth against your arm to muffle your high pitched moans. His tongue retracted until you felt the tip of his tongue tease the edge of your entrance before dipping his tonulgue in for a moment. Your hips bolted you forward at the intrusion before settling back down on the bed. His tongue running up and down from your entrance to your clit in long strokes. Quickly settling his tongue back against your throbbing clit. You yelped as he applied more pressure.

"Fuck, I love this cunt."

Slurping noises ensued as he dove in deeper. You orgasm building again and again, holding on for dear life. Holding onto your sanity. His tongue swirling around the pulsing bud as you continued your previous rhythm rocking against his face. Your knuckles were turning white at the sheer grip you had on the ties; feeling yourself drift away.

"Fuck, please, yoo-"

He pressed his face even further into your heat as you cried out in pleasure. Tongue flicking mercilessly over your engorged clit. Reaching the summit again to fall all the way down into the abyss. He never let up from you as his tongue lapped at your juices spilling from your entrance. Nerves alight and pulsing throughout your body. A thin layer of sweat was evident against your face, collarbones; the whole of your body. Sweat beaded from his own forehead and he wiped the back of his hand over his mouth as he watched you regain your breath. Stilted in the silence. Only your chest rising and falling as your lungs gasped for air.

He loosened his right arms hold around your leg and brought his fingers forward to your sensitive pussy. Humming to himself as he gathered the Juices on the tip of his fingers and spreading it all over your pussy as it glistened in the dim hotel light. Knowing how much you lost your collective shit over his hands he couldn't help but watch his hands tip toe up to your breast; squeezing the flesh roughly in his hand before slinking it over to massage your neck for a second. Only to grab it a moment later. Your breath caught quite literally as you could feel the bed move from where he was sitting up. He could feel the pressure against your soft skin and the way your breath constricted; only for a moment as he loosened his grip. His fingers still flush against the skin. His veined hand looked like it belonged around your neck. He thought to himself before sliding his thumb into your mouth again; which you accepted with enthusiasm.

'I found a saviour, I don't think he remembers'

"One more from you, kitten. Then I'll fuck you. Okay?" He hummed.

Your reply was noncommittal as you nodded vehemently; still sucking on his thumb. He looked down at you with a certain adoration. Laying there, naked for him. Tied up and blindfolded. If he'd have thought this would be the case after that first night, he would have laughed. But here you both were.

His fingers began to trace the outline of your entrance; whisper like touches that made you clench around nothing. He began experimentally pushing his long slender middle finger inside you a little; chuckling lowly as you let out a whine. Your pussy trying to suck him in further. Wanting to feel him. All of him.

"Sir. Please." You murmured, legs that were now free from his grasp allowing you to rotate your hips.

He wanted to tease. God. He wanted to tease you until the sun came up. But he was desperate and so were you. He removed his finger earning a cry from you. Until he slid in two fingers to your shock and set a brutal pace. Feeling those godly fingers of his curl into you. Moulding you perfectly to him. Tapping against that sweet spot inside. He used his other hand to press your hips to the bed; preventing movement as you felt a touch of sensitivity kicking in. But you put it to the back of your mind; focussing on the way his fingers were drilling into you at an inhuman pace now.

Your senses heightened due to his silk tie that blocked your view. Oh how you wished you could watch his fingers sliding in and out of you like you had done countless times before. Acquiring quite the affinity with the mans hands. Pale, veiny; strong in their ability to hold you but soft when he caressed your cheek, wiping the spit away from the corner of your mouth or the pad of his thumb sweeping away tears from overstimulation. God you loved them.

"Fuck. I'm so close." You cried out, to someone. Anyone who could hear you as he continued his ministrations.

"Yeah? The slut loves my fingers doesn't she?" Yoongi spat; his voice laced with venom.

"Loves my fingers fucking her, huh?"

All you could do was mewl as you could feel your body going into overdrive. Your head slamming against the pillow as you could feel yourself near the edge. Just needing one final push.

"But you love it best when my hand's around your throat. Isn't that right? Slut?"

You hadn't felt his hand move. Too lost in the pleasure he was giving you. Until you felt it grip your throat. Not hard. But just enough. Squeezing when he said slut. Sparks flew and your fingers and toes felt as if they were set to a light simmer. Your body going numb at the feeling and your pussy throbbing as you came. A high pitched moan of his name left your bitten lips as he continued thrusting his fingers in and out of you. Body moving in time with your spasming cunt as you began to feel the overstimulation kicking in, rearing its ugly head once more. The pain was excruciating as he continued but the pleasure washed over you again as your entrance continued to clench around his fingers. Silence as a moan caught in your throat. This had to be the biggest orgasm you had ever had. Nerves set alight with matches and turning into a forest fire that exploded like gasoline until it set to a simmer when Yoongi slowed his fingers down ever so slightly. Enamoured by your head thrown back and your mouth in the perfect shape of an O. He would've cum right there, just at the sight of you convulsing beneath him.

"Cause he's off to pay his crimes, and he's got no time for mine'

"Fuck, me." He breathed, shaky breaths too.

Quickly flipping you onto your front, your still tied arms now crossed over one another. Propping your legs up so you were on your knees. A sharp smack to your ass sent you reeling into another sobbing mess. Beginning to plead with him. For something; anything.

Soon enough you felt his hands returning to your hips and ass, caressing them carefully. Your ass flinching at the contact of his lips on your lower back, you could hear a slight slapping sound behind you, assuming he had started to touch himself again. You whimpered at the thought of not being able to watch his veiny hand slide up and down his equally veiny cock. Fuck.

His lips still against your skin as he whispered "I nearly came just like that, watching you cum all over my fingers baby."

There it was again. Baby. Nothing more nothing less. There was a pregnant pause before he sighed, beginning to speak again.

"You're so fucking hot" a groan sounded as the pace of his hand quickened against his length. The slapping sound intensified.

You whimpered, beginning to move your ass up and down, wiggling it at him to invite him in.

"Yoongi, just fuck me already." You whined.

A sharp slap sounded against your ass, reverberating through the room. You winced at the pain, taking in a quick breath before a hand returned to your ass kneading it in his palm.

"Slut is so impatient today. I'll fuck you, don't worry." His words were menacing.

'Now we're lost somewhere in outer space, in a hotel room where demons play'

His hand continued to knead at your reddening cheek before pulling it aside with his thumb, showing your dripping, waiting entrance for him. He almost lost it. Almost. Deciding that you had both waited long enough he lined his throbbing condom clad cock up with your entrance and pushed in with great speed. Hissing at the feeling of your tight wet walls surrounding him.

"Oh god." You managed a strangled whimper into the mattress.

Breath caught in your throat as you could feel his dick beginning to move swiftly inside you. His hips slapping against your ass that was sure to bruise tomorrow, your wrists were aching, your body going numb to every other feeling apart from the feeling of him ploughing into you. Your vision was starry eyed and you hated it. But you loved it. Sobs began to rack through your body as he spanked you once again, sending waves of pain and pleasure through you.

His pace continued as all you could do was lie there with your hands tied, begging for anything he was willing to give you. But also feeling the familiar sting of too much. But it was never too much. You willed your body to continue on. To not give up the ghost yet. You prayed for your body to fight on. To take every thrust he battered into your throbbing, weeping pussy.

The coil you had almost forgotten existed now in the plains of numb, vacant ability to even string a sentence together, began to tighten again, expecting a fraying spent body, not one this eager for your umpteenth orgasm this evening. Your pussy clenched as he continued, hollow groans you imagine him with his head back as he thrusted into you, licking his perfect lips with that sinful tongue. God, he made you crazy.

"Yoongiiiiii, fuck I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum, please" your tone indescribable as you panted for breath that escaped you with every thrust as his skin continued to slap against yours.

Suddenly feeling him pull out which almost made you weep but being turned back over onto your back, the tie being ripped from off your head. You were greeted by a furiously sweating Yoongi. Sweat dripping from his dark chocolatey hair just above his eyes. His lips swollen pink from where he had probably been biting on them so much, not to mention when he had used the same lips to devour you not 20 minutes prior. His chest was heaving and lips parted as he gazed at you for a moment.

"I'm seeing that gorgeous face when you cum, no way I'm missing that." He stifled a laugh as he lined himself up with your entrance again after wrapping your legs around his torso.

'They run around beneath our feet, we roll around beneath these sheets'

Sliding in once more you rattled your wrists against the silk tie restraints as you cocked your head back in pleasure. You let out a high pitch moan, almost exasperated in tone, your back arching up into him before slumping back on the bed in defeat. Yoongi almost reading your mind whilst still thrusting inside of you began to untie the ties that bound your wrists. You thanked heaven for your saving grace. You could run your hands through his hair now, feel his sweaty skin beneath your fingertips. And soon after your hands were free he laced them in his own. This also being new to you. You knew the drill when having sex with him. He laid down the ground rules early on. No kissing. No cuddling. No hand holding. So what he did next really sent you through a loop.

"Fuck I'm close." He sighed before leaning down to kiss you.

His lips were salty, battered and bruised much like your own but you didn't care, you kissed back with all your might as he continued to thrust away inside you. Feeling his cock hit that sweet spot again you mewled, breaking the kiss with your head thrown back.

"Here kitten?" He asked, smirk evident in his voice.

You whimpered with a nod as he continued to thrust in the right place, hitting your spot so deliciously you couldn't help cry out when his pace turned rampant and he held your hips in his bone crushing hands, sure to bruise tomorrow. The punishing pace was set as his hips bucked into you and you tried to grab at anything you could, finding no sturdy comfort in the crisp white hotel sheets beneath you. Your breathing was erratic, you hadn't realised you'd been sweating until now, although not as much as the man above you. You watched in distracted awe at the sweat running down his broad chest, along his stomach and down to where his cock was pummelling into you.

You could feel it again, serious this time. Your orgasm creeping up on you faster than any bullet. Your legs tingled and your toes curled. Your knees felt like they would break and your arms felt detached from the rest of your body. In the last moments you saw him gazing down at you, exasperated, fucked out beyond belief. But smiling. You reached up at the nape of his neck and pulled him down to you, pressing your lips against his as you succumbed to the pleasure that wreaked havoc throughout your body. A heart wrenching shout came from your lips. In every moment, a glitch of your body as it spasmed with unruly disregard and poor timing. Your pussy clenched repeatedly on his cock while he continued to thrust inside of you.

"Oh fuuuck, I'm coming." He groaned into your neck as he used hard, purposeful thrusts as he came in the condom.

'He's coming down, coming down'

The sweat that accumulated on both your bodies cemented you together for moments after. All pretence and notions suspended as you both caught your breath back. Heaving. Breathing one another in. Soon Yoongi peeled himself off of you and went to remove the condom. You lay there, staring up at the ceiling. Stars still there. You weren't imagining it in the end. Scraping your hair from off your face as you wiped the sweat from your brow. Soon he returned, bouncing onto the bed next to you, looking up at you in adoration almost. A nervous smile present on his lips as if he didn't just drag you to the 7th layer of hell with him. Or was it heaven? You could never be sure.

You looked over at him with heavy lids, inquisitive look on your face as he swept hair from your shoulder. Looking down at you with that same smile. Before -

"You fancy going on a date, some time?"

© sunnysidejoon - 2021 - do not repost on any site, or translate without express permission from author.

NOW Mr Min is usually not my main man but i can't help it, just, shit okay Min Yoongi.

I realise I'm probably going to hell for this but we joon

Hope you guys enjoyed, working on the next installment as we speak 🤪 if you want to be added to a taglist let me know 🥴

Love Always

Mac 🧡💜

[hansolmates]

cherry contact |🍒

summary: jihoon has access to all versions of you - your credit score, shopping habits, work emails, even your terrible tinder history. pairing; fbi agent!jihoon x civilian!reader (f) genre/warnings; fluff, crack, it’s really just that “your fbi agent” meme that caused everyone 8 years ago to put tape over their webcams, questionable viewing habits for an fbi agent, language, dick talk, mentions of sex, jihoon has feelings and is confused, he is a PINER, tw—sexual harassment  w/c; 3.3k  a/n; i can’t believe i finished this😭😭 part of meraki’s job collaboration and i’ve been dying to do a svt collab since the dawn of time and finally today’s the day! it’s been a hot moment since i’ve written for jihoon, glad i managed to get those svt writing muscles going! a huge thank you to @merakiiverse​ and @woozisnoots​ for putting this together. readers pls definitely check back on the masterlist linked above to see more of the other talented cwc writers and their rendition of the job prompt!

if you like this fic please consider giving it a like n’share!🤓🖥🤓🖥

“Kevin, 32, works at Kodak,” you scroll further to the description, “I love being tied up and need a dominatrix, have swing at home—no.” Swipe right. 

“Lisa, 24, works at Infinity Dance Studio,” you definitely are weak for athletic ladies, “My hobbies include cuticle care and online shopping! Looking for a sugar daddy or mommy that can spoil me rotten—definitely can’t afford that kind of relationship.” Swipe right. 

“Hansol, 26, works in an art museum,” sounds promising, you love art, “wait, why are all his pictures of him holding fish? Is he inside a fish? Who the heck finds that attractive?” Swipe right. 

“Billiam, 31, works in finance. Needs a bratty baby girl who can triangle,” you grimace, “what is with these guys and stating their kinks from the get-go? Gotta take a girl out to dinner first, and the fuck is a triangle?” 

You swore off Tinder since the dark ages, also known as senior year of college. However you’re in a particular slump, thirst-trapped between needing some serious dick and a committed relationship. You’d prefer the latter, but after a stressful day at work and the fact that it’s the ass crack o’dawn, you’ll take what you can get. 

“Bye Billiam,” you sing-song into your phone, moving to swipe right. 

Except you accidentally drop your phone between your sheets, and when you pick it up you accidentally swipe left. 

“Fuck fuck fuck me with a fuckin’ fuck nugget!” you cry out into oblivion. You’re so glad you live alone at the very least, it stops you from looking like a crazy person when you talk your potential sexipades out. 

Billiam has Super-liked you! 

“No. Nononono—” you bludgeon your head against your pillow, frowning when your phone opens up a chat for you and Billiam. 

Billiam: hi can u check if my dick is too small

You: please, don’t send me a picture of your dick. 

Billiam is typing… 

You: for fuck’s sake—

“—that’s disgusting,” Jihoon curses, and immediately sends out the screenshot for sexual harassment. 

“What’s disgusting?” Mingyu chimes, swiveling in his spinny chair from his side of the room.

“Don’t look,” Jihoon gags, reaching for a bottle of Coca-Cola from the mini-fridge. “You’ll throw up your fried chicken.” 

“My person is a twenty-one year old nympho who also happens to be a incel,” Mingyu chastises to his screen, closing up the eighth tab of BBC porn he’s seen this week, “he doesn’t know how well he’s avoiding the FBI’s eyes,” Mingyu shakes his head, “so I’ve seen some pretty bad shit, but I’ll take your word for it.” 

“No,” he echoes your name like you’ve done the most heinous thing in the world, “no, no! Why would you swipe left on Jackson? You’re way out of his league! He literally looks like he has a pea-sized brain!” 

“He does look like he has half a brain cell,” your voice reverberates through his noise-cancelling headphones, unknowingly agreeing to Jihoon’s passionate throw of anger, “but I’m deprived and desperate, so!” 

It’s like you can hear his sentiments exactly. 

“Literally, you could have any person you want,” Jihoon chastises through his desktop, glaring heavily at your bedroom camera, “you’re wasting your time with these losers!” 

Oblivious, you let yourself dangle across the bed. The camera isn’t the best quality, but Jihoon watches intently at the rise and fall of your chest as you attempt to fall into a fitful sleep. 

“Some yell at screens for soccer,” Minghao says to the air from his cubicle, “some yell for Starcraft, but Jihoon yells for Tinder like it’s an Olympic sport.” 

“Jihoonie,” Mingyu rolls around his chair, resting a long arm over the backrest, “do you have a crush on your civilian?” 

Jihoon immediately swivels around his hair, meeting the amused eyes of Mingyu. “No,” he says sharply, whipping around to glare at his screen. 

He glares harder the longer Mingyu’s simple question sinks in. He doesn’t have a crush on you, he likes you. Jihoon swallows his sigh, wondering why you would want to go as low as Tinder to look for a potential tryst. From your profile, you’re absolutely beautiful and intelligent. You have simple pleasures that match his—a hot cup of tea right after dark, snuggling under a weighted blanket while watching anime, and sleeping in on Sundays.

Unlike him, you don’t see the world through half a dozen lenses and a plethora of information right at your fingertips. No, you’re lucky. 

“Hey can you grab me my water bottle?” Mingyu asks over his shoulder. 

Jihoon thinks nothing of it, leaving his post for the thirty seconds it takes to get to the mini-fridge and grab Mingyu’s Hydroflask. 

“You got a call,” Mingyu says when he plops the bottle on his desk, indicating to the red blinker on Jihoon’s computer. 

It isn’t until he puts on his headphones does he take care to see why his blinker is going off. 

He’s getting an incoming call. From you. 

You’ve been waiting on the line for about two minutes. He lets two additional minutes breeze by because Jihoon is internally screaming. You’re calling again. There’s a fire blazing in his brain, his fingers hot as he twitches against the spacebar of his keyboard. 

From the monitor he can see that you’ve given up on sleep, hands pawing through your drawer so you can take a final swipe at your magenta-tinted lip balm before nesting yourself in the sheets. You’re kicking around as if you don’t have work at 9AM, smacking your lips to apply the shiny salve while you wait for your call to be picked up. 

“Why is my civilian calling me,” it isn’t a question, it’s a thinly veiled indication that Jihoon is ready to fight whoever compromised him like this. 

Mingyu and Minghao fail to answer. That’s okay, he isn’t opposed to killing both if neither fess up. 

It would be so easy for him to ignore the call, or redirect it to another part of the office. Yet he aches to talk to you, for real talk to you. As if you’re just two regular plain-old human beings with normal lives, and as if he didn’t know every nook and cranny about your daily routine and your favorite breakfast foods.

Call it pride, call it confidence, but Jihoon’s been pretty good at games and he hopes prior experience helps him get over this hurdle. Slipping on his headset, he accepts the call and answers in a controlled voice, “This is the local hotline for sexual harassment reports, are you here to report a case?” 

Okay, so this is the closest thing he can get to having a full-fledged conversation with you, so he’ll take it. 

“Hi,” you mumble your name into the phone, and he nearly disintegrates right then and there. It’s different when he can hear your voice directly in his ears, definitively reaching out to him as opposed to being a fly on the wall, “I received an email that a report was sent out for my previous chat as sexual harassment, but I didn’t send out a report.” 

“Yes,” Jihoon replies smoothly, tapping his nails against his thighs, “it’s a new update.” 

“Oh, well thank you,” you reply, and Jihoon sees from the camera that you’re staring at your phone in curiosity. 

“It’s my job,” he says, and the words hold more weight than you think, “are you okay?” 

“Is it also your job to ask how I’m doing?” 

He smiles wryly, and he looks up at the monitor to see how you’ve considerably relaxed on your bed. Your legs dangle in the air, and you’re hugging a mango plushie with all the love in the world. “Not really, but I figured I’d ask. I don’t think I’d be able to recover from a dick that looks like an unhinged toenail.” 

Your laugh flutters in his ears, and his stomach is flip-flopping with more than just his shitty ramen lunch. Your face curls and wrinkles into happiness at the lewd joke, and you rest your chin on your stuffed fruit. 

“I’m okay,” you finally answer, “it’s not the first time I’ve seen subpar dick. But thank you… what’s your name?” 

“Uji,” he says, a codename that he considers as precious as his actual name, “feel free to call or text this number if you’re ever feeling uncomfortable and in distress.” 

“I’ll keep that in mind, good night Uji.” 

“Good night.” 

That wasn’t so bad, Jihoon thinks as he hangs up the phone. He dims the monitors to let you freshen up and get ready for bed, as per your schedule. After tonight, he hopes he can be sated with his curiosity of you. Maybe he needs to follow your plans and open up a dating account or something, he feels that he’s starting to get a little too engrossed in your presence. 

The waning starts today. 

You: help, i’m feeling uncomfortable and in distress

Uji: what is it this time? 

You: i can’t decide which weighted blanket i should get. Will more weight make me feel more comforted or will i accidentally suffocate myself in my sleep? 

The waning of you did not start that night, in fact it never began. Jihoon’s been on edge for weeks, simultaneously teetering between what he calls the high-school equivalent of the talking stage and an absolute catastrophe. 

It started as an accident, you meant to call your friend’s number for cooking help but since the last call before your friends was his, you called Jihoon instead. To your surprise, he knew how to roll out homemade pasta without a pasta machine. You kept him on the call for the entirety of dinner preparation, and he couldn’t help but feel a twinge of pride when your pasta turned out perfect and you were happy and full for the entire night. 

Weeks later, and you’ve been texting each other for shits and giggles. At first you chalk up your insistence that he’s basically Human Google and has the answers to seemingly anything and everything, but over time it seems that you enjoy your daily interactions with him. Whether it be a simple phone call asking how to unclog your drain or a screenshot comparing two different KitchenAids, he’s at your disposal. 

The burner phone he’s been holding as of late is on silent, but he’s able to pick it up immediately. It’s almost intuition, coupled with the way he notices whenever you seem in a pickle and you need to contact him. However he does not have a chance to formulate a reply, as you’re now calling him.

“Couldn’t wait?” he speaks as if you’re familiar with each other, as if you’re friends. Jihoon longs for that so much, he would love to be upgraded to someone other than the IT guy you text for funsies. 

“Yes,” you say, voice laced with determination, “I’m deciding on whether to just like or Super-Like this guy on Light a Flame.” 

Jihoon deflates a little, but steels himself. You’d never want to go on a date with the IT guy, it seems that you enjoy the anonymity of your recent communications. Your conversations are definitely meme-worthy. 

“Who is it?” 

“His name’s Lee Jihoon, 25, works in the FBI.” 

He chokes on his coffee, precious beans from Argentina, and the liquid is flying across his keyboard. 

Pulling up your phone view, it confirms the worst. In a moment of Weakness with a capital W, Jihoon had caved and made a Light a Flame profile the other night. It’s an app reserved for more serious relationships, which means you’ve finally graduated from Tinder. 

“Are you okay?” he wants to cry when he hears you on the other line, genuinely panicked. “Do you need me to send you his profile?” 

“N-no,” he sputters, rubbing a rough napkin from McDonalds over his dripping chin. He thought he privated his profile last week after he realized there was nothing he could do to let loose of you. Turns out that isn’t the case, because you’re currently pursuing his profile and actually kinda-sorta considering him for a potentially serious relationship. 

“C’mon, Uji,” you tease lightly, “you always seem to know what to do. This is your area of expertise after all, since you work for that kind of department.” 

What should he do, scratch that, what can he do? It’s a complete violation of policy to be fraternizing with his civilian life. Sure, there has been episodes of civilians and agents meeting each other, but only minor violations that both parties forgot about shortly after. He’s so far deep at this point, he can risk being relocated or losing his civilian—losing you. 

“Do you think he really works in the FBI?” you say when he doesn’t reply immediately, “he’s really cute, though. Totally looks like my style, and he likes My Hero as well! C’mon, I just need for you to check as to whether he’s a homicidal maniac or a compulsive liar.” 

Liar. He’s a liar. 

That self-accusation prompts him to slump in defeat, and he mumbles in the phone, “I don’t think he’s worth it. I’d say pass.” 

“Hey, Coups has seniority,” Soonyoung pats Jihoon thoughtfully on the back with one hand, and grilling meat with the other. Barbeque always lifted up Jihoon’s spirits. “Why don’t you give it a chance and meet her for real? And then he can give me your super cute civilian and then he can give my shitty civilian to some newbie.” 

“And if it doesn’t work out, I just lose her,” Jihoon’s eyes are watering, most likely from the excess smoke around their grill, but it does align with his current state of sadness. It was the right thing to do, he thinks over and over as he replays that phonecall from last night. “Hoshi, if you were in my situation, would you have done the same?” 

“Like I said–” Soonyoung—codename Hoshi, waves his tongs around like a magic wand, “your civilian is super cute, so I would be making a beeline to her house and—” 

“Okay, don’t finish that sentence,” you’re his civilian, not Soonyoung’s. 

“Cheer up, c’mon,” Soonyoung’s filling his bowl with all sorts of delicious things, charred vegetables, mixed rice, and pork belly. Jihoon’s favorite is pork belly, so eventually he relents with a timid smile, taking out his chopsticks to appease his friend, “there it is, Uji. Food always makes things better—” 

“Uji?” 

Both off-duty agents freeze, hearing the familiar ting of your voice as it glares holes into Jihoon’s back. It’s you. Since they’re off the clock, he would have no idea you’d be here. Usually that’s fine, it’s early morning and it’s pretty unlikely that you’d run into your civilian considering you’re supposed to know every second of their schedule. It seems that tonight you’ve varied from the norm. 

“Uh, hey?” 

His back is still facing you, and he’s side eying Soonyoung in a panic. He’s wearing a cap and a nondescript hoodie, feeling like a shlub as your familiar voice pings back at him with excitement. 

“I knew I recognized your voice!” you’re unfazed, definitely not realizing the distress the two men are currently going through. “What a small world, I didn’t think we’d ever actually run into each other!” 

“Talk to her, you ass!” Soonyoung hisses, and immediately swivels his chair so he has no choice but to face you.

You’re so, so pretty. Prettier in person, prettier than any crappy 480p screen can give him. You’re definitely not dressed for barbeque, in fact you look like you’re just passing by to pick up a to-go order after a night out. You’re dressed in a silky looking velvet off-the-shoulder top, the cherry red color practically melting onto your skin. The black skirt paired with it has Jihoon salivating for more than just barbeque, and he has no idea how to look away. 

The smile is wiped clean off your face however, and you recognize him almost immediately. “Jihoon?” 

This should be a moment of joy for him, after all it’s far too late to go back at this point. You look a little hurt, your face twisted in confusion as you put two and two together. 

Soonyoung excuses himself to go to the bathroom, although neither party seems to care. The lame, over-distended EDM music that plays over the cacophony of the barbeque place seems to melt in the atmosphere, much like how the smoke hits the fan, and it’s just you two in the room. Jihoon gestures a pale hand to Soonyoung’s seat, and you take a beat to reluctantly sit yourself down. 

You clutch your skirt with both hands, thumbs ringing against the pleats and ironing them out. “So, you’re also Jihoon?” your voice is tiny, small and sad. Jihoon feels liquid guilt inject in his veins, and he wishes he could reach out and pat your shoulder, hold your hand, something. However no matter how much he knows you, he’s a stranger to you. “Why did you lie to me?” 

“It’s… complicated,” you shake your head at his pathetic reply, and Jihoon hates this. He feels like he’s drowning in smoke and mirrors and the cloying scent of pork belly is now sticking to all his senses, immobilizing him. 

With a cross of your arms, you scoff, “It’s always complicated.” 

“Please don’t think I said those things the other night because I don’t want to date you,” Jihoon tumbles the words out like a hamster wheel, wanting to speed up to your pace as fast as he can, “I want to, I really do, but it’s—”

“Complicated.” 

“Yeah.” 

The two of you sit in silence, letting the noise back into your little bubble. Jihoon feels his stare on you, akin to how a teacher looks over your shoulder during an exam. He robotically eats rice, grain after grain as he lets you have your look. 

The slope of his nose, the cotton smooth skin, the lean yet strong stature. You can’t believe he matches the Light a Flame profile perfectly. Other than the frumpy clothes, he matches the man on your phone, a simple picture in a black suit that reminds you strangely of the movie Kingsman. You mentally roll through what you remember from his profile, his hobbies, his likes and dislikes, his occupation—

“Wait,” you pause, your brows knitting together, “so the FBI thing on your profile… is not a joke?” 

Jihoon forgets to chew his last bite, and he swallows a whole two centimeters of meat down his throat. Ouch. 

“It’s—” 

“Complicated.” 

The adjective has a whole new meaning now. It’s crazy how in so little words, so much is exchanged between you two. You might not be realizing it, but Jihoon’s so attuned to you he feels like the pick to your guitar, strumming and humming along your chords like it’s second nature. It really isn’t fair, but anticipating your reactions helps greatly. 

“There’s things you’re not telling me.” 

“Right.” 

“And things you can’t tell me,” you add. 

“Yes.” 

“Then what are some things you can tell me?” 

“I’d… rather not here,” Jihoon’s eyes dart around the room, looking for all the pinholes and micro cams attached to the restaurant. By the bonsai, under the table, in the koi tank, “I need to work out some paperwork before anything.” 

“Paperwork?” 

Jihoon nods mutely, but he looks at you with a litany of emotions in his eyes you’re reeling back in your stool. Why do you feel like this man knows you from a simple five-minute interaction? And why do you feel like you can trust this man with your life? 

“Okay,” you finally say. 

“Really? Okay?” you think he’s cute, the way his eyes perk up and his back straightens. 

“Really.” 

Silence fills the space once more. This time however, it feels more at ease. 

“The only reason why I’m saying yes,” you pretend to nonchalantly play with your fingertips, a manicure reserved for a date you’ve long abandoned for this evening in favor of a new flame, “is because I think FBI agents are kinda hot.” 

A flush blooms on Jihoon’s cheeks, and you can’t help but giggle. 

[amazingphanisnotonfire-imagines]

Sweet Pea//my greatest adventure is you

Request: Can you do a dad (newborn-ish) sweet pea imagine

hey! title is kind of stolen from a quote i saw on pinterest and part from my own brain so its okay! how are you all? i hope you’re good! i also hope you like this! its cute and sweet and just very nice! byeeee 

Two weeks ago your life changed completely. 

And for two weeks you and Sweet Pea have been living in a post baby, sleep deprived, bliss. 

Days of the week have long been forgotten, neither of you know the time. It’s either light or dark and that’s good enough for you. Both of you have only been outside a handful of times and they’re only for two hours at the most. 

You’ve worn nothing but pyjama’s, washed your hair enough times to count on just one hand and smell like baby puke and milk. 

But it’s perfect. 

Everything and everyone revolves around the perfect bundle of joy that you’ve brought into the world, and that is how it was supposed to be. You’ve had visitors from just about everybody you know. 

Family, friends, neighbours, as well as their family and friend. You’ve had everyone wanting to come and see your daughter, all of which bring toys, clothes, keepsakes, balloons, flowers and everything in-between. 

Which is of course lovely and very helpful. Especially when you’re dealing with the fullest nappy and think you’ve run out of wipes but Sweet Pea finds three packs of them under a pile of clothes that are yet to be worn. 

Plus, they also bring you presents to which you definitely aren’t complaining about. You’ve got so many pairs of pajama’s you’re not gonna need any for years. 

But it also brings problems. 

Because you and Sweet Pea may have read every baby/parenting book, blog and magazine known to man. But what they don’t prepare you for is how you’re supposed to fit everything into a tiny two bedroom house. 

“How does a tiny baby need all of this equipment?” You ask, staring at the black hole of boxes that is your living room. Even sat on the couch there’s boxes and bags stacked around you and the two of you honestly have no idea where to start. “I mean, what the hell even is this?” You add, picking up some sort of weird looking piece of plastic. 

Sweet Pea looks at it, a frown on his face before it lights up and he searches through some papers on the small table beside him. He holds a booklet up, a triumphant smile stretching across his lips before he starts reading. 

The smile slowly starts to fade the more he reads to himself and you sit in silence, an eyebrow raised while you wait for him to tell you. 

“Oo, erm. Apparently it tells you why the baby is crying.” He says, looking between you and the what you now realize is the instructions. 

The only way you can describe his expression is puzzled, as he takes the baby crying machine from you, placing it beside the instructions and just staring at the two. 

“Who the hell bought this?” He asks, resting his chin in his hands. You run your fingers through his hair, trying to calm the curls down a little and he lets out a content sigh, giving you a tired smile as he does so. 

You mirror it and nudge his leg with your own. You lean your head on his shoulder, and he places his head on top. The two of you look over the paper and plastic again, reading and re-reading the instructions as it takes a while to actually understand what they are trying to say. Its seems both you and Sweet Pea have ended up developing baby-brain.

“I think it was your Auntie Agnes.” 

“Of course it was.” He chuckles and kisses the top of your head.

“What are the options?” You ask. 

“Hungry, tired, changing, attention, stressed.” He says and you send him a look. 

“Stressed? What an earth could a baby be stressed about? They don’t pay taxes, they don’t have to work.” You reply grumpily making him laugh and kiss you again.

“Technically we don’t have to pay taxes.” 

“Technically we do if we don’t want to go to jail.” You reply. 

“Who says I’d get caught.” He replies proudly. 

“Me.” You reply bluntly and he stares at you offended. 

“Rude.” 

“True though.” You tease and grab the strange device from him, looking it over a few times before looking back at him. “So, where’s this going?” 

“Back of the cupboard normally. Proudly on display when Auntie Agnes actually comes to visit?” 

“Deal.” You agree. “I’ll find a place for it and you start on that box there.” 

“Which one?” 

“The huge red one right in front of your face.” You huff and he flips you off. 

You send him a sarcastic smile in return before disappearing into the kitchen to find a space for the stupid bit of plastic. 

“Why this one specifically?” He calls after you. 

“Its from Toni and Cheryl and I’m excited to see what ridiculous things Cheryl has spent a fuck-ton of money on.” You reply, your voice giddy but muffled by the cupboard you’ve currently got your head in. 

Sweet Pea shakes his head, a small giggle escaping his lips as he listens to you excitedly ramble about what it could be. 

He pulls on the end of the bow and it falls off the wooden box and onto the carpeted floor. A bemused smile takes over his appearance as he carefully picks the lid up and places it beside him.

“Holy shit.” His eyes widen. “Y/n? Y/n get in here!” 

“Wha-ow! Shit.” 

“Did you hit your head?” He asks, sending you a sympathetic smile when he notices you standing in the doorway, rubbing your head.

 “Yeah.” You nod and flop down beside him again. “So, what is it?” You ask excitedly. 

“You’re not going to believe it.” He replies and moves further towards the box. You follow him until your sat on the edge of the sofa and your eyes widen when you look at what it is. 

“Is that?” You ask, looking at him and then back at the present. 

“Yep.” 

Staring back at the two of you is a giant rocking horse. Like it’s massive, like Toni could definitely fit on it and it would look normal, massive even. Hanging around its neck is what looks like a diamond encrusted dummy and you and Sweet Pea just stare at each other in disbelief. 

A red, handwritten card sits on top of it and you grab it, turning it around and reading aloud. 

‘Y/n and Sweet Pea, 

Congratulations on your new arrival! We can’t wait to meet her properly. You’re going to be amazing parents, and we’re always here if you need us. Hopefully we’ll be able to organize a play date between her and JJ soon, but until then enjoy new parenthood. 

Love Cheryl, Toni and JJ.

ps: I told Cheryl you didn’t need a giant horse or diamond encrusted dummy or the other 5, very expensive gifts that are currently being shipped from Italy, but she didn’t listen, so sorry in advance. And again, congratulations!! We’re so proud of both of you!!’

“Another 5 gifts from Italy?” Sweet Pea repeats.

“Another 5, expensive gifts from Italy.” You correct. 

“They have far too much money for their own good.” 

“God knows where this is going to go.” You shake your head, a smile tugging at your lips as you tuck the card back into the box and place the lid back on top. “Which one should we do ne-” Your interrupted by a small cry and the two of you stop what you’re doing to listen, waiting to see if she’ll settle back down. The crying only grows louder and you and Pea share a look. 

“I’ll get her.” He says and you expression softens. 

“You sure?” You ask.

“Yeah.” He replies, fighting his way through the boxes and bags trapping the two of you. “I just googled how much that rocking horse is so I’m gonna go cry with her.” He says making you laugh. “You keep going down here.” 

“Wait, how did that happen? You get to cuddle a cute baby and I have to figure out where to put bottles and diapers and...horses?” 

“Unlucky.” He shrugs and gives you a sarcastic smile before running up the stairs. 

Two minutes later and she’s stopped crying. A relieved smile takes over your face as you fold what seems like the millionth baby grow. But twenty minutes after that, Sweet Pea hasn’t come back down yet, and that makes you suspicious. 

Because he’s either fallen asleep, or he’s just pretending to still be busy so he doesn’t have to help with this. If he’s asleep, you’re joining him, whether he’s on the bed or under it, you don’t care. But if not, you bet his ass you are dragging him back down the stairs.

You slowly make your way up the stairs, balancing a few pieces of clothing in your hands to put away. The door to your bedroom is cracked open slightly and instead of going straight into the nursery, you hold back and watch as Sweet Pea rocks her gently. 

His back is to you so he hasn’t noticed your presence, and he’s pulling the funniest faces at her, the sight making your heart melt. Your entire universe in one room, within two people, one tall and the other tiny. 

It makes all the chaos worth it. 

“There once was a shoe, who’s best friend was a lace.” Sweet Pea starts, balancing a baby book in his hands as he keeps tight hold of your daughter. “They went everywhere together. But one day, the shoe stepped in a puddle and the lace got dirty so-what kind of story is this?” He complains, shaking his head as he puts it down. 

“Okay, Daisy. I’ve got a much better story to tell you anyway.” He whispers into the dark room and carefully sits down in the rocking chair. “So, me and your mom have known each other for so long. Longer than you can even comprehend, not that you can comprehend much at the minute. But one day when your bigger you’ll understand. We’ve known each other since we were younger than you, thats right, we were best friends before we were born. And there hasn’t been a day that she hasn’t been around. And they’ll never be a day where she isn’t here for you either. Both of us are always going to be here.” He says, his voice gentle. 

His tone is full of so much love that it makes you tear up...stupid hormones. You can’t wait to spend the rest of your life loving your little family, and you’re so happy that its Sweet Pea that you’re doing it with. You can’t imagine a life without him, you never want to. 

“You have your entire life ahead of you and we’re going to make sure you live the best one you can. Because you can do anything. There’s a whole world of possibilities out there. Sometimes it feels like there isn’t, but you’ve only been here two weeks and you’ve brought so much wonder and magic to mine and your mom’s world, so who knows what you’re going to do to the rest of it.” He continues and you hug the clothes your holding tighter to your chest, despite the fact that you’re crying all over them. 

“We’re going to love you no matter what. No matter who you are or who you love or what you do. As long as you’re safe and happy, thats good enough for us.” He says, a sweet smile on his lips as he stares down at her in awe. “Now, go to sleep and have the sweetest dreams you can think of and when you wake up, your mom and me will both be here for you. Thats a promise.” He whispers, pressing a soft kiss to her head before placing her gently back in her crib. 

You take that as you cue to walk in, avoiding the creaky floorboard that you and Sweet Pea have already memorized the position of. He hears the door open and his smile grows when he notices you. You return it, your eyes tired and your hair messy and your clothes the same as they were two days ago. But to him you look the most beautiful you ever have. 

He has never loved anyone more, well, apart from Daisy. But you’re the reason she’s here and he’s never ever going to be able to thank you enough for that. 

You quietly place the pile of clothes on top of the drawers, vowing to put them away tomorrow. Them, the presents downstairs and the the rest of the world can wait, you want to enjoy this for as long as you can. 

Sweet Pea grabs your hand and pulls you gently towards him. The two of you lean over the crib, watching Daisy sleep peacefully. His hands rest gently on your shoulders and you give them a squeeze, your fingers intertwining.

“Do you think babies can dream?” You wonder, looking up at Pea.

“I really do hope so.” 

[ladyhallen]

Colonnello’s Terrible, No-Good, Very Bad Day part 2

How Reborn and Harry met and fell in love

It was the sleep deprivation, Harry would use as an excuse. That and how god awfully confused she had been feeling.

It wasn’t a nice thing, feeling that confused, and Harry was more confused than most.

The world she had landed on had magic, thank Merlin, enough that she her potions weren’t inert and her wand didn’t turn brittle. It just felt strangely hot, for magic. Magic wasn’t supposed to feel hot and coupled with the complete absence of Diagon Alley or the Leaky Cauldron, Harry was confused. Where had magic gone?

The answer, her sleep deprived ass mused, landed on her doorstep, bleeding, concussed and with several broken fingers and a broken leg, several lacerations on his back and a broken nose. It was a testament to how threatening Voldemort and  Death had been that a deadly weapon aimed at her barely made her heart beat faster.

It was a wonder that the man could even hold his gun and aim it at her.

“Do not call the hospital,” the bloody man commanded, swaying in place but hands steady and aiming at her head.

Harry blinked slowly. She could see it, the magic. It swirled around him like yellow fire, licking his wounds closed very slowly. If it continued, it might heal his bones wrong, then she’d need to re-break things and that just wouldn’t be fun for everyone.

“Alright,” she agreed. “But won’t you come in? You’re alarming the neighbors.”

The man swayed in place for a couple more beats before agreeing, entering her apartment like a cautious cat. He moved like a cat too, quietly and without a whisper of sound, despite how much pain he must have been in.

“I have some bandages, and some salves,” she offered. She just needed him off his feet and unconscious. Preferably two hours ago.

It took another moment before he agreed and Harry finally had him pegged. She knew his type. He was a controlling man. Anal retentive, Hermione had called it.

She doctored his tea with some muscle relaxant, and with the state of him, even as suspicious as he was, he fell asleep immediately.

Blearily, Harry thought it was a good thing that she was so good with fixing injuries while drunk, sleepy or tired. She waved her wand, fixing injuries and straightening up broken bones with a thought, her magic working overtime to compensate for her less than optimal thought processes.

And then she was left with a bloody man on her sofa, ruining the upholstering. Harry huffed a breath and cleaned him up too. She wanted her deposit back, dammit.

It really was the damned sleep deprivation, Harry cursed as she accidentally drank the tea she had given the man, the one with the muscle relaxant. It worked on her too well and she crashed on the chair with a curse.

I am never going without sleep for two weeks, Harry promised before a gigantic yawn overtook her and she finally fell asleep.

.

.

When Harry woke up, feeling weirdly refreshed and tired at the same time, she was starving.

She also thought that the man she had cured was a dream until she opened her eyes and almost screamed at the man still asleep on her sofa.

It made sense, she realized belatedly. He was healing from what must have been torture wounds. Nobody broke their fingers or concussed themselves intentionally.

She couldn’t leave him there of course.

An idea occurred and she giggled before she could stop herself.

Twenty minutes later, the man was in a motel in another country, asleep and with all his belongings. Harry’s couch was free of blood and she was indulging herself in chocolate fudge ice cream.

He was going to be so confused, Harry giggled over a mouthful of ice cream.

.

.

The man hunted her down and for a moment, Harry cursed her red hair for being so memorable. Then, the little devil peeked up at her and Harry mentally shrugged. Why not, she thought.

“I’m sorry,” she told him, her green eyes going confused. “I don’t understand. What? Who are you?”

He snarled at her and Harry played at being frightened. McGonagall was scarier than this man, and she could sniff liars within a heartbeat. Well, he probably could as well, but he couldn’t threaten her while she was working in a bookstore and all the employees there loved her.

“I’m trying to jog your memory,” he said, voice low to keep it private.

“I’m sorry sir, but I still don’t know who you are?” she said just as softly. “Do you need help with a book?”

He huffed and stalked out, footsteps still eerily quiet. Not that anyone else noticed.

When he was far enough, Harry allowed herself a private smirk.

.

.

He stalked her!

Harry blinked large eyes at the man on her doorstep, getting a flashback to the last time he was there, bloody and swaying. A blink, and he was clean and holding a cup of coffee to her.

He was also holding a bag of chocolate croissants.

Harry opened the door wider, eyes on the croissants.

“May I help you?” she asked.

“I won’t even drug you, just answer my questions,” he demanded.

Reluctantly, she let him in. She really shouldn’t, but she really wanted those croissants. It had been ages since she’d allowed herself a pastry and the sudden craving for it was going to be a problem.

At least he laid out his offerings on the table first, letting her have a sip of coffee and a bite of the pastry before starting out with, “So what family are you allied with?”

This time, Harry’s confusion wasn’t feigned. “What?”

He made a rude noise and waved a hand. “You healed my injuries and then moved me across countries. You obviously have connections. Who are your contacts?”

The truth, she realized. Was going to be more confusing than lies.

With an inner cackle, Harry said, “I’m alone. I’ve been alone since I got here. I mostly moved to Italy for the desserts.”

Though, if Harry really wanted decadent, she would have moved to France. Those people had ideas about butter.

He looked frustrated. “You…alone? You did it alone? That’s impossible.”

Harry finished off the pastry in four bites. If he was going to start shooting, at least she had something delicious in her stomach.

He didn’t start shooting, but he did leave looking more confused than anything.

Harry waited thirty minutes before letting out a cackle.

.

.

The man - and she still didn’t know his name, kept appearing in her apartment.

He also seemed to notice that she let him in faster if he brought baked food. Hermione always said that food would kill her, but Harry didn’t think she meant the food brought as bribes from a mercenary.

And he was a mercenary, she realized. He kept a gun on him at all times and Italy’s gun laws weren’t that lax. She’d read up on it once in the bookstore after he showed up for dinner three times in a row. Italy needed permits to carry. With how well cared for that gun was – and how well used it was, Harry didn’t think he had a hunting license.

He still kept asking her strange questions. Harry was just as confused as when he started this strange arrangement, but not as confused as he was.

“What Flames?” Harry answered the millionth strange question. “I don’t have fire!”

The man made a noise like a cat stepped on and left after washing the dishes.

Harry felt herself softening. He was such a sweetheart.

.

.

Once, he fell asleep on the table, clearly worn out and Harry let him sleep.

She knitted across him, making a tea cozy and amusing herself with the funny patterns.

When he woke up near midnight, he looked spooked - frightened.

Concerned, Harry let go of her knitting and held his hand. “Are you alright?” she asked.

He kissed her hand and left, still looking scared out of his mind but considering.

.

And then the flowers started.

.

The bouquet of orchids and red carnations had Harry blushing.

Did he?...she looked up at his guileless eyes and looked at the flowers again. He didn’t know the meaning of course. It was just a coincidence that the flowers meant exotic beauty and admiration.

“Thank you,” she told him. “What’s with the flowers?”

He held her hand between his, and she felt small. His hands were larger than hers and Harry shivered deliciously at the warmth.

“Can a man not give flowers to friends?” he asked. “And I just realized. It’s been three months and I never gave my name. It’s Renato.”

Harry smiled. “Harriet. Call me Harry.”

Renato looked dazed. “Lovely name,” he murmured.

.

.

If Harry thought that Renato showed up regularly when he stalked her, now that he had given her his name, he seemed to show up every day on a schedule.

He brought dinner, a startling difference to the baked goods, and stopped asking her strange questions. He stopped looking confused and instead brought a lot of flowers.

Harry felt harassed. The flower’s messages were enough to make her blush, and Renato still looked clueless at her embarrassment. The latest one seemed to be asking her to marry him. Harry wanted to die, it was so forward.

“You don’t like the Spider Flowers?” Renato asked. “I can get different ones. How about Chrysanthemum’s and Daffodils?”

There was no way this was a coincidence anymore. He’d all but announced he was in love with her. Unrequited love with her. His eyes were crinkled with suppressed laughter and Harry understood.

“Renato, you’re going to kill me,” Harry whined, face buried in her hands. “I love you, you bastard.”

Renato laughed, scooping her up in his arms. Harry was helpless to resist and she laughed with him.

.

.

They were still having miscommunication issues. Harry was undeniably British and Reborn was also undeniably Italian.

There also seemed to be a second layer of miscommunication that still seemed to be happening, no matter Harry’s or Reborn’s best efforts.

The answer to this was dates. Lots and lots of dates where they just talked, as honestly as they could to each other, so that it would resolve their issues. Renato promised to tell her when he was angry with her. Harry promised to ask him what he was feeling instead of just assuming what he felt. It was a work in progress.

On Harry’s days off, they went trawling through coffee shops, Reborn for the coffee and Harry for the pastry.

It was a good system and both of them loved it.

And then the shooting happened.

.

.

Ducked under broken tables and bandaging an arm wound, Harry whips out her wand and heals it, cursing the entire time when the bullet pushes out. It hurt so much more going out than it had gone in.

“What is that?” Renato asked in shock.

Harry blinked at him and swore. She had forgotten on important thing in the many things she had shared with her lover.

“Magic?” she said weakly.

He smiled, looking manic. “You don’t use Flames? You’re not in the mafia?”

Harry gave a weak giggle. “No. I’m a witch. You’re in the mafia?”

“I thought you knew?” he asked her.

Which, in hindsight, yeah. Why didn’t she guess it?

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he continued, gesturing at the wand she was using to reinforce the table against the gunshots.

Harry bit her lip and did her best to look innocent. “Would you believe me if I tell you that I forgot?”

Reborn hid his face in his fedora and laughed.

.

.

Harry was mentally going Oops.

[xhanisai]

#LetMarinetteDrinkCoffee2K19

Uploaded on A03 and FFN.net

~(x)~

Thirty-six hours.

She has been awake for:

Thirty.

Six.

Hours.

She, along with the ever so loyal Chat Noir have taken down sixteen akumas in a span of three days. Just after battling the first five, the duo were knackered beyond words, grumpier than edgy brutes in Hollywood films and definitely stuck with panda eyes, covered by their masks. Chat Noir dropped the puns in exchange for a more...colourful set of vocabulary, which Ladybug would have scolded him for on a normal day; they're meant to be role models for children after all.

Moreover, her infamous clumsiness from her civilian side has gradually seeped into her vigilant half, making the fights harder to battle and probably causing her partner more distress than help. Scratch that- she definitely caused him a lot of distress. She collapsed from a roof into La Seine from exhaustion after releasing her cleansing light. The dirty, freezing water and the sound of Chat's desperate screams gained her another twelve hours of consciousness. (The ten minute lecture and yelling from him afterwards may have helped too but no way in hell was she going to admit that). "I can't go to sleep just like that Chat...I have school in a few hours..."

"Then skip it! Tell your parents that you're sick or something- just PLEASE get some sleep, Bug."

"I have an important test-"

"Important my ass- your health is top priority here!"

"So is yours!"

"I'm used to staying awake for so long,"

"LISTEN UP NOIR! IF I'M GONNA SLEEP, SO WILL YOU. IF YOU STAY AWAKE, SO WILL I. SO STOP YELLING AT ME-"

Of course, the pair were interrupted by another god forsaken akuma and they violently swore at Le Papillon and his never ending madness. Ladybug muttered out very morbid things such as how she was going to skin the old man alive once she gets his miraculous or something like that.

This was all two hours ago.

Marinette was on her last legs now as she struggled to get up the stairs to her form room. Quickly chugging on her tenth energy drink, Marinette disposed the can somewhere secretly (they're banned in school after all) and flopped down onto the nearest desk. She inhaled sharply, reaching for the travel mug she secured in her bag, filled with the most sweetest, sugary, coffee one could ever have. Tikki mustered up the energy to pat Marinette's collarbones with her frazzled paw, hiding in her dark turtleneck collar rather than the purse for once in order to warm up.

A few more minutes passed but they felt like seconds to the heroine in disguise, nuzzling her mug. She internally prayed that taking three showers in a row managed to get rid of the disgusting river smell out of her hair before dashing out of the house. That thought process was interrupted when she clipped the mug's lid off. She smiled for the first time in twenty-four hours and pursed her lips for a sip.

"Girl? You're early again? Wow!" Alya's energetic voice was like a slap against her face, almost causing the poor girl to drop her life saving beverage. She sent her best friend a pitiful pout, ignorant to the rush of her classmates heading to their seats. The mass majority of them gave their class president a surprised look, wondering if pigs will start flying next at the sight of her early presence. Though, there was some tension by the others, no thanks to the recent incident between Lila and Marinette's 'supposed' stealing and bullying.

"Mmhm..." Marinette warmed her cheek with the mug, hoping that the brunette could take a hint and let her indulge in the diabetes level of sugar. She almost didn't feel Alya's fingers smoothing against her pale forehead, brushing away the dark fringe with a frown on her face. She then placed a hand on her flushed cheek, shaking her head.

"Marinette, you don't look very well. You haven't been well for days. I think you should go home..." Alya was prepared for Marinette's spiteful snort, countering the blue eyed glare with her fond hazel pair. "I studied my butt off for this physics test and won't rest till I get it over and done with. Maman and Papa said that if I get full marks, they'll lift the energy drinks ban off me." The Asian pursed her lips childishly and ignored Alya's gaping face before going in for the coffee which has been torturing her poor nose with its sinful scent.

With a speed that could rival a blue hedgehog, Alya swiped the mug out of Marinette's hands. The latter reacted quite late, blinking a few times with confusion before realising what happened.

"Alya-aaaaaa..." Marinette flopped tiredly on the desk, chibi tears running down her eyes whilst she pathetically reached out for her saving grace. "Ple-eeeeeease..." "If your parents have banned you from energy drinks then I bet that they won't appreciate you drinking coffee either." Alya's frown deepened at Mari's cries.

"Let DC have her caffeine, Cesaire." Kim whooped from the back, joined by a few agreements by Nathaniel, Mylene and Rose. "She looks like shit, no offense 'nette." The boy only received a thumbs up from Marinette and a scowl from Alya. Alix simply observed with her lips sealed. Confusion wracked through her head as she evaluated the events so far. Marinette was too tired to give a damn.

"I don't know Le Chien, I've been tailing our heroes for the past few days with little sleep so I think maybe I should drink this instead and send my girl home." Alya chuckled and ate up the sight of Marinette's torn face.

"No-ooooooooo! You can't drink up the only thing I'm living for! Don't you understand? Without that cup, that specific cup of coffee, I will no longer go on. All my happiness and dreams will be crushed! My will to breathe this wretched polluted air will be dissipated and then you all will have to pay for my funeral and live on without me because ALYA DRANK MY SOUL!"

Marinette was so tired, she was delusional. The filter was gone and her limp form pretty much melted on the desk with sadness. Alya almost gave in.

"Well!" Nino's voice piped up from the doorway, walking in with a dead looking model following him like a chick. "Guess our lil' Dudette robbed my seat, again. What next? You gonna rob my locker too?" Lahiffe snickered when Marinette flipped out her middle finger at him, refusing to lift her head up from the table. A few others giggled as well whilst Nino dramatically fell to his knees, yelling how he was so 'wounded' and couldn't believe the sweetest girl in the world had the balls to do that to him!

Adrien on the other hand, let his lips upturn for the first time in a day, fondly and shook his head. He definitely knew how the girl was feeling- oh boy. If anyone could relate to her now, it was him.

He made way to her, encasing his hand over hers, beckoning her to lower her finger with a playful tut. Marinette shivered at the feel of his silver ring against her skin.

"Now, now, it's rude to pull a gesture like that. No matter how much Nino deserved it," Adrien ignored his best friend's betrayed 'Hey!' and laughed warmly. Seeing Marinette woke him up more than the pathetic cup of coffee in his hand. He felt his heart skip a beat when she slowly lifted her head up to meet his gaze.

"Can I toss him out of the windows instead?" Her tone was so innocent, it was like she was asking if she could borrow a pencil. Adrien giggled out a 'No', his smile never leaving and squeezed her hand. Marinette dropped her head back down with a groan that sounded like 'Coffeeeeee'.

"Alya?"

"No, Adrien."

"She looks like she really needs it,"

"What she needs is a warm, toasty bed with fluffy pillows and her giant cat monster teddy, Mr. Cat."

"Nino-oooo, please help me persuade your girlfriend. I'm too tired for this."

Adrien collapsed on the seat, right next to Marinette, playfully flopping against her. He sipped his cup, eyes still closed. On any other day, Marinette would have freaked out five minutes ago. Now? She's too tired to think let alone move or speak. Nino and Alya bickered whilst the rest of the class (save for Chloe who scoffed) cooed internally at Marinette and Adrien.

"I'd let you have my coffee but this is as bitter and black as Mm. Mendelieve's soul," He earned a cute snigger from his twin tailed friend. She unconsciously moved closer to the blonde, clutching his cardigan's sleeve, half asleep. Adrien relished every touch, beaming. Though he could have sworn that Rose piped out a 'So cute!' at the back. The thought left as soon as it came. He focused on Marinette's scent and her warmth, tempted to sleep against her again. That's what friends do, right?

"I wouldn't be...able to take a sip of that without...gagging," Marinette shook her head quickly to stop nodding off. "Mine has fifteen teaspoons of sugar, lots and lots of cream, caramel, chocolate sauce, whipped cream and sprinkles..." She admitted quietly, blind to Adrien's choked face. Maybe it's a good thing Alya took that away from her!

"Are you trying to give yourself a heart attack? Diabetes? A food coma?" His shock was quickly replaced by her pitiful eyes. "D-Don't cry please-" "I just wanted to stay awake..." She peered at her coffee in Alya's hand so longingly, bottom lip jutted out (Adrien had the urge to kiss it but he quickly knocked that thought back). "I also really like...sweet things..."

"You're sweet enough already, Princess," Quickly, Adrien slapped his hand against his mouth, eyes widening at how the words slipped out. He blinked rapidly a few times before sighing in relief. Marinette didn't seem to have caught it and the others were too busy watching Nino and Alya argue. Curse his sleep deprivation...

"Princess...?" The model gulped as Mari continued. "Heh...I really like that nickname...reminds me of Chat Noir," Her lips curled into a peaceful smile and her eyes glazed even further. Adrien's demeanour softened, the subtle 'o' of his mouth curbed into the sweet smile his lips love turning into when Marinette's around.

"He has good taste. It is very fitting for the most awesome, amazing, kind girl to have the title of a princess," The boy mused. He gave a cheeky wink which prompted Marinette to roll her eyes playfully.

'Yes! Look how comfortable she is around me now! This is what I've been waiting for ever since I came here! A proper one on one Marinette time~!' Adrien celebrated internally.

"Then, since Alya and Nino act like a married couple all the time," His eyes flickered to the still squabbling pair, fussing over Marinette, before back at the petite girl. "They could be your parents, the King and Queen,"

Marinette hummed with amusement, her lips turning into a familiar smirk. For some reason, he knew she was going to banter back. He couldn't explain why.

"Then Chat Noir could be my Knight, considering how he's always used the 'I'm your Knight in shining leather' comment," Adrien felt his cheeks involuntarily redden. "And you could be..."

The older teen leaned closer to her face.

"I could be...?"

"...my..."

"Your?"

"...my prince-"

"Marinette!"

Blonde boy and Noir girl snapped out of their bubble, along with the rest of the class. They all simultaneously gasped as the Italian transfer student leaned against the door timidly.

Her left cheek had a huge, purple bruise and her arms were covered in bandages. Everyone looked at her with concern whilst Adrien cocked an eyebrow in suspicion. Marinette merely blinked.

"You...you're de-akumatised now...right?" Lila clutched her arms, hugging herself to make her smaller. Almost the whole class flinched and gawked at the designer. Alya narrowed her eyes in confusion, Nino cocked his head but Adrien...

He was fucking livid. A solid ten minutes before class, six days after her last stunt, this brat dares to antagonise Marinette again!?

Marinette let out a dumb "eh?", blinking repeatedly.

"I-I know you were mad about how I caught you cheating a while ago...but I didn't expect you to be akumatised and attack me yesterday night!" Lila burst out crying. "Why didn't Ladybug's healing powers work...why am I still hurt!" She clutched her cheek, enacting how much pain she's in.

Perhaps a week or two ago, the class would have leapt for Lila's side. However, everyone had a feeling that something's not right, something's not adding up. This feeling has been building up ever since Lila's arrival but they all seem to have brushed it away.

"I got akumatised?" Marinette rubbed her eyes and blinked at Lila again. Any other day, the girl would have leapt for her own defense. Right now, she was way out of it.

Sweet, innocent Rose furrowed her eyebrows too.

"Hold on- hold up! I've tailed every single akuma that's happened so far. There's only been sixteen these past three or four days and none of them involved you or Mari." Alya slammed the coffee down on the desk, oblivious to the Asian girl's twinkling eyes and soft "coffeeeee~". Adrien kept a protective grip on Marinette's upper arms, venturing closer, trying to keep her behind him, as if shielding her. His eyes turned acidic and rage boiled over.

"That's because she lured me out in the outskirts! She had giant needles and she looked so scary-" Lila let out a loud whimper. "It took hours for Ladybug and Chat Noir to defeat her!"

"Oho? I want giant needles...then I can stab Le Papillon with it and then I can finally sleep at night~" Marinette was painfully oblivious to her class' incredulous stares as she made googly eyes with the coffee. Nino sighed and took away the mug, placing it on Mm. Bustier's desk and then glared at Lila. No one paid mind to Marinette's suffering.

"Certainly I can't catch every single akuma, however, we've only seen the cleansing lights sixteen times. Thus, either you were hallucinating-"

"I wasn't! Where'd you think I got these injuries from!?"

"-Or! It was a non-akuma that attacked you. Some freaky criminal from the sounds of it. Ladybug's powers can't heal you if you were injured from anything other than an akuma." Alya then marched towards Marinette, sheltering her slightly too. "This girl has a terrible sense of direction so it's impossible for her to have dragged you to the outskirts and make it in time for school." Marinette simply sighed, paying zero attention to them.

She tried using her mind to get the coffee closer to her but turns out, she's not telekinetic.

If Lila was smart, she would have agreed with Alya and made up a story of the supposed criminal that attacked her. It would have bought her the coddling she wanted at the very least. However, it seems that Le Papillon's akumas kept her up at night too, making words slip out of her tongue before her brain could fully comprehend them.

"I swear on my sweet, dead grandmother's life, Alya! It was Marinette! I know it was! Would I ever lie to you?" She clutched her chest. "Even Rena Rouge and Carapace fought her too. Marinette was so strong...so evil...I think she's working with Le Papillon..."

.

.

.

Silence.

Not a single sound was heard.

Everyone held their breaths.

Internally, Lila panicked. Why wasn't everyone jumping to her side? Why was everyone so quiet? Dammit- why isn't everyone berating that damn blue eyed bitch and catering towards her!?

"Now that I think about it," Max broke the silence. Adrien, Alya and Nino immediately whipped their heads towards him, eyes wide with multiple emotions. Each of them were coming up with ways to make his death look like an accident along with Lila's if he bought the lie.

"I think I saw that horse boy running around too...what was his name again? Peggy...Pugo..." Max could have fooled strangers with his confused, calculating expression but his close friends knew way better.

Game on.

"Yes! Peggy! He was there too!" Lila exclaimed and then whimpered loudly, bringing her arms together, as if she was in agony. "He saved me! Otherwise...I'd have...lost my head...Marinette was so close to..."

"Is that so?" Adrien's voice was like thunder. It wasn't that he was loud, no; he was very startling instead. A tone which no one but Lila has heard before when he threatened her not too long ago. An icy chill was sent down everyone's spine and his emerald eyes gleamed with bloodlust. "Please do tell us more, what did our everyday Ladybug do in her akumatised state?" He wrapped an arm around her possessively. Alya and Nino stood closer to them.

Lila's face almost darkened with indignation but she quickly fixed it with the kicked puppy expression. She took a step back, clutching a fist to her chest.

"W-Why are you guys acting like this...Max? Alix? Are you seeing this? I think those four are against me now too-"

"But at least that weird monkey one was around to help you, right? If Marinette was THAT strong then I bet Ladybug and Chat Noir called the entire cavalry." Alix rested her chin on her clasped hands, glaring at the four people down. Only Lila missed the playful bump Kim and Max gave on her back.

"Y-Yes! Also the lizard, the hare and the erm...pigeon? Marinette almost won...she could have devastated Paris- no...the world! I think that's why Ladybug wasn't able to use her cleansing light- she was beaten black and blue..." Everyone else started to mutter, causing Lila to almost smirk victoriously. 'Yes...that's right, keep this up,' She cackled in her mind.

"Excuse me!" Marinette finally shouted, standing up with hands on hips. Lila's heart almost burst in excitement. Finally some fuel for her fodder! More ways to isolate Dupain Cheng! "The only devastation here is how no one's letting me drink my coffee! Nino just give me it!"

She didn't expect the smack upside behind her head from Alya, making her yelp in surprise. The bespeckled girl grabbed Marinette by the shoulders and yelled.

"YOU IDIOT GIRL! YOU'RE BEING ACCUSED OF TRYING TO MURDER ROSSI AS AN AKUMA WHILST PULVERISING TEAM MIRACULOUS IN PROCESS YET ALL YOU CAN THINK ABOUT IS A PUDDLE OF CAFFEINE FOR A DUMB MOCK TEST THAT WON'T AFFECT OUR GRADES!?"

She shook her shoulders harder, muddling Marinette's mind up even further. Adrien stammered, trying to break them up whilst Nino and the class watched with delight. They didn't miss the appalled expression Lila threw.

The way everyone brushed her off...the poor, injured...pitiful girl!

"A-A-A-AL-Y-A-A-A!" Alya finally stopped her torture and let Marinette flop into her arms. Marinette let out a groan, swirls in her eyes and the class burst out laughing.

"You did it Alya! You beat the akuma! You're a true hero!" Rose squealed out as Juleka chimed with a "Way past cool". Playing along, Alya straightened out the collar of her polar shirt, mock pride on her face with a smug smile plastered on. She handed Marinette to Adrien's waiting arms and stalked towards the back of the room.

"W-What-" Lila didn't get a chance to finish her sentence.

"Miraculous Alya Charm!" The brunette hollered, tossing a pen in the air with a cheesy grin. Kim and Alix made whooshing noises, as if to mimic the sounds of rushing magic ladybirds and everyone else cheered. "Your injuries should all be healed up now Lila! Good on ya~ now, Nino, it's time to bring that Theo artist and get him to make a statue of me for the park-"

"ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?"

Lila was now huffing and puffing. Raw animosity shone in her eyes, hands clenched into fists by her sides, knuckles whitening and teeth gritted. Adrien didn't try to hide his devilish smirk and the oddly quiet Chloe folded her arms, awaiting for the girl to show her true colours. Alas, lack of sleep made a slower, more frustrated Lila.

"I'm here, injured, traumatised! Ladybug was almost killed! This...THIS WITCH-" She pointed venomously at the knocked out Marinette in Adrien's arms. "Tried to kill ME! And you all don't care!? You're all worse than Chloe!" More crocodile tears ran down her cheeks...

Though they ran down as purple drips, somehow cleaning away the bruise? My, what magical tears indeed. Mylene and Ivan quickly opened a group chat (sans Lila and Marinette) to arrange years worth of apologies for their class president. They could be old and grey at one point but they'll still find a way to apologise to the sweet angel.

"You see Lila, everyone knows that's not true," Adrien purred out, sitting down against the chair like a spoilt royalty with a beautiful girl in his arms- who would kick everyone's asses in one go. He summoned a bit more of his inner Chat Noir.

"How would you know!? You weren't there, Adrien!" Lila hissed, banging a fist against the door. Weren't her arms in agony again?

"I suppose, but," He tucked a hair behind Marinette's ear with a grin.

"I was with her, all night,"

Everyone let out a dramatic, yet fake gasp, clutching their cheeks whilst Chloe let out a little cry "Adrikins how could you~!", one arm over her head whilst Sabrina fanned her with a book. Lila paled and sweat dripped down her face. She shook her head slightly, taking a step back.

"W-W-What do you mean? What were you doing?"

"Well, what else would two, unsupervised teenagers be doing all night? Why do you think we're so tired?" He played with Marinette's hair, smile widening. His peripheral vision caught Alya with her phone whipped out, probably not too long ago.

"T-That's a lie...you're just saying that to protect Marinette...your father would never let you out of the house at night, let alone with a no named wench like her!"

"Do I need to show my hickies as proof?" Adrien had a big bruise on his collarbone from falling onto his roof when coming home, lack of sleep messing with his coordination. It was dark enough to be mistaken as a love bite and the boy was never more grateful for it than he was now.

"Whoa du-uuuude- keep it child friendly here!" Nino winked.

"Enough of my love life now," Adrien's smile was wiped off and the dangerous frown was back on.

Lila gulped as everyone else followed suit. Some were close to exploding on the spot whilst others wore a look of pure disappointment and sadness.

"Can't you see? The gig's up Lila. You've lost. We all know you've been bullshitting from the start- well some of us anyways," His gaze swept over the class who looked terribly sheepish for a moment before reverting back to their intimidating stances. "Take a seat over there," He beckoned to the lone chair that Chloe kicked out at the front, quickly adjusting Marinette to rest her head on his lap so that she remained hidden.

"What if I don't want to." The Italian sneered, itching to run down the head teacher's office and come up with a way to save her sorry ass. If there's one thing she refuses to do, it's to accept defeat. No matter how high the odds are against her.

"I believe you don't have a choice, Rossi." He admonished, hands clasped against his mouth similarly to Alix not too long ago. "Don't make me pull a Chloe Bourgeois here and make your fucking life miserable by getting my father involved. I'm tired as hell and no one has got the time to humour you anymore. Take. A. Seat."

Keeping her steely gaze on his frame, Lila made way to the chair, plopping down and crossing her legs, trying her best to look powerful and threatening.

"Now, you're going to sit there, keep your mouth shut till I've finished talking, you got that-"

"You think that crap's going to work on me, Adrien? Hah! My mother is an embassy. You can google that for all I care, not like the rest of you googled whatever else I've said," Her smile was like a snake slithering, making everyone else feel uncomfortable.

"Did I say you could talk? Did my earlier threats fall on deaf ears? Do you love the sound of your voice so much that you're unable to comprehend simple french words from anyone else?"

"I-"

"I said keep your mouth shut."

His tone felt like a cataclysm to her heart. Immediately she snapped her mouth shut and dug her fingers into her knees. The looming presence of everyone else didn't help either. The weight of the situation finally crept up on her and the girl realised...

She's not going to get out of this one.

"Alright, so where was I...? Oh that's it!" Adrien leaned back. "I'm going to cut the chase. We're not mad because you lied, we're mad because you hurt Marinette and tried to do so again. I want you to fess up every single thing you've done in order to hurt someone so that we can record it and send it to the teachers. We have no trust in you and we know for definite that you'll chicken out if we don't do this now." His eyes were like ice now. For the first time, you would recognise Adrien as Gabriel's son for his chilly aspects, not because of his brand.

"..."

"Lila."

"I..."

"..."

"From the moment I arrived, I kept touching you and clinging onto you,"

"I had to take ten showers that day-"

"I stole your book! And threw it away!"

"...you bitch..."

"I threatened Marinette in the bathrooms to take away all her friends, especially you. That I'd make them all turn their backs on her and she'll be alone forever. That almost worked, didn't it?"

Alix was seething on the spot, desperate to break Lila's nose. The grip that Alya had on her phone almost snapped the device in half, distraught with the suffering Marinette has been through.

"That was the day I gave her that stupid advice of taking the high road huh? Should have realised how much of a psycho you were back then instead of being scared for Marinette of you turning into an akuma and trying to kill her." His instincts screamed to cataclysm Lila right this second. "Regardless, your threat didn't really work, hm? She kept fighting,"

"And that's why I faked my injury, hid the cheat sheet in her bag and put my necklace in her locker. That's all you need to know." Lila was about to stand back up but a hand clasped her shoulder from behind. She didn't need to look up to know that the perfect manicured nails belonged to the mayor's daughter.

"I didn't dismiss you yet, and also," Adrien leaned forward. "You're hiding some things, you know why I know? Because I have connections. You're better off spilling it yourself than me getting my hands dirty, Rossi."

"..."

"Rossi."

"That day when your fencer friend got akumatised..."

"The day you lied and forced yourself into my house? Yes, carry on,"

"I teamed up with her akumatised form..."

"How and Why."

"..."

"Tell us."

Everyone took a bated breath, cold sweat dripping down their heads, anger grinding in the pit of their stomachs whilst Marinette remained blissfully asleep on Adrien's lap.

"I worked with her akumatised form to take down Ladybug and give her Adrien because I hate, HATE Ladybug! I don't regret anything I've done! Never have, never do and never will! I will rise to the top and take you all down one by one!"

.

.

.

The whole class erupted in an uproar.

Obscenities were roared out.

Threats were exclaimed.

Students were restrained.

Agreste watched Rossi with hate that could rival Le Papillon's for Ladybug and Chat Noir.

Chloe struck her hand out, poised to give the brat a good smack.

"Quiet!"

A hand grasped Chloe's wrist while another tipped the cool cup of coffee down her throat.

Marinette slammed the travel mug down, gently putting Chloe's wrists back to the girl and then turned towards the class. Her eyes flickered to Lila's bewildered form for a split second and then back at everyone else.

"First off, thank you Adrien, for bringing the truth to light. I suppose waiting and planning for the right moment was a better idea than going out yelling and screaming." Marinette gave him a smile full of saccharine, making his heart skip a beat or two.

"You shouldn't be thanking me. I'm the one who let it get this bad in the first place...besides, you'd have concocted up something similar had it been anyone else getting harassed by her."

"You're not perfect. Everyone makes mistakes. Besides," She glanced back at the fuming girl behind her. "You've acknowledged it and sought a solution to fix it, rather than covering it up and lying," Lila's teeth were basically scraping each other.

"Marinette..."

"Second! As much as I'd love to beat her up for real like you guys, we are much, much better than this. Control your emotions or else Le Papillon will control you," Murmurs filled the room and everyone began to try calming down. "If I really was akumatised, Lila," Marinette began "I would have finished the job. So I think it's wise to not try and get me under Le Papillon's influences again," Her eyes were like ice, piercing Lila's weak frame.

"What do you mean again?" Adrien felt a rock hit the bottom of his stomach. The way Marinette flinched caused his paranoia to stir. "Marinette...?"

"Erm...when I got expelled? And also during the bathroom threat? But it's okay! I managed to outrun the bathroom butterfly- wait. I outran the butterfly but Lila got akumatised the next minute..." Marinette's eyes widened in threatening way, turning back to said girl. "You walked away all smug...so how did you get akumatised?"

Lila didn't answer.

"You're working with Le Papillon...?" Alya gasped out.

SLAM!

The force of Adrien's hands slamming the table as he shot up shocked the class once more. Alya moved in quickly to grab Marinette and keep her out of the way.

"Get out and never come back. If I ever see your face anywhere nearby, you're dead."

Lila immediately tripped out of the chair, feeling like she's been shot a thousand times by everyone's blood lusting looks. She scurried towards the door, only to crash into M. Damocles. No words needed to be exchanged by the looks of his infuriated eyes. A few other teachers, including Md. Bustier and Mendelieve crowded her. They all wore the same blistering look, beckoning Lila to follow them to the headmaster's office. They heard everything.

"I'll be back in a bit class," Md. Bustier spoke. Her voice lacked the usual cheerfulness and motherly tone.

With that said and done, the classroom door was closed.

Lila was gone.

Marinette has received justice.

Whoa...

.

.

.

A dizzy spell suddenly hit Marinette and Adrien, causing them both to stagger on the spot, quickly supported by their best friends as the event of what just happened came crashing down on them. Adrien was quick to recover, having managed to catch catnaps in between battles whilst Marinette took a few minutes to regain her bearings.

"Yo what the fuck just happened now..." Kim broke the silence. "The day started off good with DC getting all loopy and Agreste Jr. getting chummy with her and boom! Jr. turns into a kickass interrogator and DC pretty much admitted that she can easily kill someone!? I THOUGHT YOU TWO WERE ALL SWEET AND INNOCENT!"

"Kim, you know Maman has been teaching me various forms of martial arts since I could walk. It will only take me five seconds to snap your spine in half from where I am...well, when I'm lucid anyways," Marinette squinted slightly, almost swearing that she could see stars. The others turned to Adrien for his explanation.

"...I guess watching Naruto does have its perks..." He itched his nose shyly, his cheeks flushed slightly at everyone else's groans. "YES I'M A FILTHY WEEB. DEAL WITH IT." He folded his arms defiantly. "And Father has rubbed off on me too," This, everyone accepted. Adrien turned around again to face his friends, eyebrows furrowed and sleep clouding his vision. He really was dead on his feet.

However, one thing didn't leave his mind.

"Marinette, why didn't you tell me?"

"Hm? What?" She yawned quietly.

"That you were almost akumatised when she threatened you?" Marinette picked up some cool anger in his words, recoiling back and then put her hands on her hips. Her eyes narrowed.

"I don't know and I don't care. I don't need to tell you everything, hmmph!" Truth be told, Marinette didn't want to be seen as a scaredy-cat or a coward, so, she kept mum. She was also pretty hurt from everyone's actions and behaviour beforehand too and she felt really bad at the idea of making them even more guilty.

"What. Kind. Of. An. Answer. Is. That?"

"I don't appreciate your tone Monsieur,"

"And I don't appreciate yours either Mademoiselle,"

"Well tough."

Adrien sauntered towards her, hands in pockets and one eyebrow cocked. The stance and swagger was so identical to Chat Noir that Marinette swore for sure that she's hallucinating.

"It's okay to not be okay you know," He then gestured out to the rest of the class who observed. Everyone wore a weak smile. "In order to progress, we need to communicate. You're always looking after us, catering to our feelings. Let us do the same. We really want to make it up to you," He let a hand rest on her shoulder, giving it a squeeze.

With a sudden determination, he leaned forward and quickly brushed his lips against her cheek. Her face softened and her mouth opened in a cute gape.

"Please?"

Tears flooded Marinette's eyes, causing everyone to rush forward, hoping to calm her down. The tears never stopped streaming, no matter how much the girls dabbed her eyes with napkins.

"I...I..." Marinette began. Everyone leaned in eagerly.

"I..."

.

.

.

"I just realised how I never got to savour my coffee..." Marinette sniffed.

.

.

.

Everyone literally dropped on the floor with a groan. Of course, she wasn't lucid. She probably was never lucid from the start! Before anyone else could say anything, Alya pushed Marinette on Adrien's back, commanding him to take her home.

"Yeah sure...I think I need a day off too..." He held the snoring girl on his back, piggy style before letting out a yawn.

"Don't try anything funny with my girl~" Alya teased and ignored Chloe's bristled comments. On a normal day, Adrien would have denied this and claimed that Mari was just his friend.

This isn't a normal day.

And Adrien is tired and grumpy and sarcastic.

"Then perhaps I shouldn't mention about how yesterday was such a wild ride~"

"Agreste!"

"Bye!"

"I'm being serious!"

.

.

.

~(x)~

[drabbles-of-writing]

The Girl in Red

This is part of my Four Years AU

AO3

Masterpost

. . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Just because Lilith lived at the Owl House now didn’t mean that she had to give up on everything.

A big one of those things was Amity Blight.

It had taken a little while to settle in, but the young witches training would not stop simply because Lilith lived elsewhere now. And barely had any magic left.

Alright, so maybe there would be a few complications.

“What’s got you so worked up?” Eda wondered, poking her head in from the kitchen as Lilith gathered as many books on magic she could find.

And though she still didn’t understand it, she had stashed a few of Luz’s spare glyphs into them as well.

“I’m to meet my p rotégé soon.” Lilith said, fumbling as a glyph fell out of one of her pockets. “I arranged to meet her in the woods for some...outdoor training.” She said, clearly unsure of her own words.

“You mean that Blight kid?” Eda raised a brow. “You still train her?”

“Blight?”

Luz suddenly appeared in the doorway, looking around like she expected to see something exciting.

“Do you mean Amity?”

“Of course I do. I still train her.” Lilith snorted.

“Oh, oh! You could train her here!” Luz suggested, looking positively delighted at the thought. “We could train together! Eda’s still teaching me about wild magic, even if she can’t use it anymore.”

“My teaching method is far different than whatever Edalyn has been showing you.” Lilith said, giving Eda a side-eye.

“Yeah, and it works!” Eda stuck out her tongue.

“We could learn from each other,” Luz said, pacing the room in that way she did when she had too much pent-up energy. “It could be a fun training session! Please, please can Amity train here?” Luz begged, facing the witch and clasping her hands together.

“I’m not so sure…” Lilith hesitated.

Luz gave her puppy-dog eyes as she begged, and Lilith had to admit, she was good at it. She couldn’t tell if it came naturally or if Eda taught her that. Probably Eda.

“...very well,” Lilith sighed, shoulders sagging.

"WOO!” Luz pumped a fist in the air. “Training with Amity! Oh, I need to grab my glyphs!” She exclaimed, racing out of the living room and up the stairs.

“Don’t break anything!” Eda warned right before a loud thump and a faint ‘I’m okay!’ could be heard.

“I’ll have to check with Amity herself,” Lilith sighed, pulling out her scroll. “Though I take it she’s been here before?”

“Oh, yeah, the kid visited twice.” Eda nodded. “Once when she erased, like, all of some kids' memories and the other time was when she busted her foot about a week ago.”

“She erased someone's memory?” Lilith gasped, almost dropping her scroll.

“Kid said it was an accident and fixed it up, no big deal.” Eda shrugged casually. “Guess there are some things your protégé doesn’t tell you, eh?”

“Don’t patronize me.” Lilith grumbled. “How she became friends with your apprentice of all people, I’ll never know.”

“Mm, I have a few guesses.” Eda said, glancing off.

Training Amity with Luz and Eda was...a challenge.

For one thing, the way Eda taught Luz was rather...barbaric. Luz didn’t seem super thrilled about it either, though she did as Eda told. Amity was very confused at their antics, and possibly a little concerned.

Luz suggested Amity try it once, and that’s when the lesson first fell apart.

Luz and Amity quickly divulged into a mock-war of the two throwing mushrooms and pine needles at each other. To Eda’s credit, she tried to gain some sense of calm.

For the first twenty seconds.

She began egging Luz on soon after, doing nothing but encouraging the two.

Lilith gave up on the lesson for the day and went inside to make some tea. Amity stuck around for a few hours after the fact, and Lilith mentally noted how red she seemed every now and again.

The next lesson was done inside the Owl House. Eda had (grudgingly) allowed Lilith to inform the girls of how to cast larger illusion spells. Of course, she didn’t know how Luz was going to accomplish it, but the human insisted on listening all the same.

Multiple times Lilith would turn around and find the girls either whispering to each other, trying to stifle giggles, or staring at whatever Hooty or King were doing. Which ranged from eating bugs off the floor to getting stuck in a cardboard box.

Lilith swore she aged at least ten years in that house.

,

“I think we should stop the double training,” Lilith mentioned to her sister one day. It was while she was on Hooty-cleaning duty. Normally she wouldn’t, but Eda had the high ground. Also known as; bringing up the curse that still haunted them both.

“What? Why?” Eda inquired, leaning in the doorway as Lilith scrubbed a mop just above one of the first-story windows.

“Amity can’t pay attention with that human around.” Lilith said, snapping angrily at Hooty as he tried to come over and ‘help out.’ “She’s done nothing but cause trouble.”

“Maybe you should change up your teaching, then.” Eda said simply. “You’re teaching Amity the regular type of magic while Luz and I are teaching each other about wild and glyph magic. Those two don’t exactly mix well.”

“Amity is in the abomination track, I am not teaching her wild magic to become a criminal like you.” Lilith growled. “I’m happy teaching her other forms of magic, but that’s just in case she--”

“What? Joins the Emperor’s Coven?” Eda cut in, crossing her arms. “Lily, do you seriously want her going to that place after all that’s happened?”

Lilith opened her mouth to argue before slowly closing it again.

“The Emperor tricked you, kidnapped me, tried to kill Luz, and is apparently trying to find a way to the human world. And you want her to join?” Eda demanded with a glare.

“...it’s what she always wanted.” Lilith said quietly, setting down the mop. “She was always so excited to be able to learn other types of magic…”

Eda relaxed with a sigh and walked over, placing a hand on her sisters shoulder and gaining her attention.

“Well, I have a feeling she isn’t so keen on it now.” Eda said simply. “She’s still friends with Luz, you know. Besides, have you asked her what she wants to do now?”

Lilith looked away, almost mad at the shame she felt.

“And anyway, I think she’s having fun.” Eda said, turning her head to look through the window of the Owl House.

Lilith looked up as well, seeing Luz and Amity messing around with King, who was still a little angry at Amity for a previous grievance involving a cupcake. Amity was smiling and laughing as Luz was tackled by King and wrestled on the floor with him.

Lilith couldn’t name any recent time she’d seen the young witch so happy. Not since the last covention.

“And having fun is the important part.” Eda said, patting Lilith on the back.

“Well, if the great and powerful Eda says so.” Lilith rolled her eyes.

“I do say so.” Eda grinned. “Now get back to work! I have a house that needs to be cleaned.”

In the second month, training came to a screeching halt.

In that time, Luz had found zero ways to make it back home, like she thought she would.

As soon as September first had rolled around, Luz had been near inconsolable. The poor girl was frantic, sporadic, sleep-deprived, and unconsciously snapping at everyone the longer the minutes ticked by.

Amity was worried sick. Almost literally.

And Lilith would admit, she was concerned for the human as well. Luz, while definitely as chaotic as Eda, was a sweet, well-meaning kid. She was happy to work with and train by Lilith, and was full of life and excitement, even after all she had done.

To see her so panicked and on the verge of tears made her heart tear.

For nearly three months there was an almost non-stop search. Lilith swore they turned the whole town upside down looking for any clues on how to make a portal to the human realm.

They couldn’t find anything.

Luz had calmed in those three months, but not for the better. She was laying about, unmotivated, and in a general slump.

Lilith remembered when she was like that. Back when she had first cursed Eda, and had to live knowing what she had done had all been for nothing.

She did her best to comfort the human, and in a few weeks, she was getting better. Amity and their other friends all helped cheer up Luz, too. And slowly, the old Luz they knew was coming back.

As did the constant redness from Amity.

Lilith had noticed Amity’s red face during the first two months of training with Luz. At first she thought it was the heat, the circumstances, or that she was just sick.

But, no. Amity was fine...presumably.

It had vanished during the close-to three months of worrying over Luz, but once she started to come back, it arose once more.

Lilith would wander into the living room while Amity was visiting and she’d find the two of them sitting on the couch, talking about unimportant things. Luz would be leaning against Amity in some fashion, or just draped across her lap a couple of times.

Each time she’d find a faint heat in Amity’s cheeks. But as soon as Amity noticed her mentor had arrived, she’d light up and grow stiff.

At first, Lilith thought it was because Amity thought she was being caught doing something wrong, like not training. So Lilith made sure to smile and nod at her p rotégé before continuing with whatever she was doing.

It didn’t help. And in some cases, it appeared to make things worse.

Lilith would also note that Amity was incredibly distracted by the human, particularly when she was focusing on magic or doing something outrageous.

Amity would stare at Luz for quite a while if gone uninterrupted. To the point where she would fumble or crash into things if she was busy doing something beforehand. Quite a few items had been broken that way, and even Eda was getting a little annoyed.

Once, on a hot day, Amity had tied up all of her hair and in turn showed off her undercut. Luz had noticed and complimented the young witch on it. Mentioning how she had wanted to get one, too.

Lilith almost thought Amity had accidentally eaten a bloodshroom by how fast the Red™ had come to her cheeks.

During one of their training sessions, Amity had been practicing her natural fire magic. She had both of her hands in front of her with a small magenta flame. Luz had been sitting on the floor and awed at the sight.

When Amity turned to face her, Luz had sat up on her knees, face illuminated by the glow, and acted like she had seen the most incredible magic in the Boiling Isles. Which was saying something, for someone who had faced Emperor Belos.

Amity’s fire had ignited into a very sudden flame, sprouting upwards and nearly nicking her in the nose, causing a mild panic among the house when she set the carpet ablaze. Which Eda later made her pay for.

Any form of physical contact seemed to bring a flush to Amity’s face. She’d avert her eyes, stutter, sweat. The works.

Usually not all at once, but it was still noticeable. Especially for such a well-coordinated person as Amity.

After weeks of silently observing, Lilith decided it could go on no longer. Amity appeared to be in distress, and Lilith was not about to leave her student high and dry when she could do something about it.

So, she came up with theories.

Her first theory was that Luz was warmer than a regular witch, and that’s why Amity looked so red. There wasn’t much information on human biology, so it’s not like it was out of the realm of possibility.

But that theory was shot down almost immediately. Lilith had been around Luz before, and she was no warmer than any other witch. Maybe Amity was extra sensitive? Allergic to humans, maybe?

Her second theory was that Amity simply didn’t know how to react to Luz. Sure, the two were friends, but Lilith had heard about Amity’s horror-story ‘friends.’ Perhaps she just didn’t know how to deal with having a real friend like Luz.

That theory was torn when she’d watched Amity’s interactions with her other two friends, Willow and Gus. She didn’t act nearly the same way with either of them as she did Luz. And while they definitely weren’t as eccentric as Luz, she figured Amity would’ve shown some similar signs.

Her third theory worried her greatly.

A curse.

Granted, not one nearly as severe as the one she’d given Eda, but a curse nonetheless. Perhaps one of her old friends had cursed her to be distracted or embarrass herself in front of Luz. It wasn’t out of the realm of possibility.

Though she felt like Amity would’ve talked to her if she was concerned about such a thing. She decided to put a pin in that idea.

Her fourth theory was one that confused her, and yet almost seemed to make sense.

Amity was angry at Luz.

The idea seemed preposterous. Amity didn’t hate Luz. She didn’t even dislike Luz. They were best friends, were they not?

Yet, all the signs pointed to the opposite. Amity was known to go as red as a tomato when angry, it made sense. Amity was always going red when Luz was around, and would look anywhere but at her when it was bad enough.

The constant watching, the aversiveness to sudden touch, the stuttering, the ranting she’d hear Amity go off on now and again, the seeming unease.

Amity was furious at Luz. Or at the very least, uncomfortable with her being around.

It made no sense and so much at the same time.

She wondered if maybe the anger was caused by a curse, but that couldn’t be it. Amity would notice then. She must not have forgiven Luz for the humiliation at the covention and the library. That had to be it.

Right?

With this theory in mind, Lilith attempted to keep Amity as far from Luz as possible. Taking her to the marketplace, training in different areas around Bonesborough, instructing Hooty to be a little more aggressive in guarding, things like that.

Amity transitioned from politely confused, to annoyed, to...well, drained.

Luz made a similar transition. She would always wonder aloud where Amity was, to asking Lilith to train back at the Owl House, to the occasional moping on the couch when Lilith left for training.

It seemed keeping them apart had only made things worse. And Lilith hated seeing either of the girls down.

She suddenly went right back to training at the Owl House again, and the cycle resumed. Maybe even stronger this time.

Lilith was confused, worried, and perhaps a little desperate. What, in the name of the Titan himself, could be the problem?

She decided she needed help, as much as she hated to admit it. And she knew just who to ask.

“Edalyn?” Lilith said, looking up the stairs to where her sister was retreating to her room for the night. “May I speak with you?”

“Uh, sure?” Eda blinked, stepping back as Lilith made her way up the steps and stood across from her in the hallway. “What is it?”

“I’m...worried,” Lilith admitted. “About Amity.”

“Is it her parents?” Eda asked quietly, face softening.

“No, no, thank goodness it’s not.” Lilith shook her head. “I meant...about her and Luz.”

Eda stared at her owlishly for a moment. Lilith had to stop herself from curling her lip at her own accidental pun.

“About time you noticed!” Eda snorted before quickly quieting herself down. She really didn’t want to wake anyone in the house.

“You knew?” Lilith gaped.

“Course I did. That kid of yours isn’t exactly subtle.” Eda chuckled. “It’s nothing to be worried about. Luz is a bit oblivious, but I’m sure she’ll catch on eventually. She’s still worried about herself.”

“Nothing to worry about?” Lilith shook her head in disbelief. “How can it be nothing to worry about? It’s interfering with Amity’s training!”

“So? I think the kids got something good going, if you ask me.” Eda shrugged. “Why are you so worked up about this?”

“Because I care about the well-being of my apprentice!” Lilith hissed quietly. “How can you let the two of them continue to be around each other when it’s so obviously causing Amity distress?”

Eda frowned and opened her mouth to retort before pausing. She appeared thoughtful before looking Lilith up and down.

“Just to make sure we’re on the same page; what do you think is going on?”

“What?” Lilith flicked her pointed ears down. “Amity is annoyed by Luz, isn’t she?” She said, tilting her head. “I mean, I didn’t think it could be true, but with all the evidence--”

Eda let out a loud, vaugly distressing, wheeze.

The Owl Lady covered her mouth with her hand and tried to smother her laughs, wheezing all the way so as to not disturb any of the other residents who were fast-asleep.

“What’s so funny?” Lilith demanded, taken aback.

“You think Amity doesn’t like Luz?” Eda whisper-laughed. “Are you dense?”

“Wha--no! I’m concerned!” Lilith snapped, remembering at the last second to keep her voice down. “What are you on about?”

“Lily, you poor, poor moron,” Eda heavily dropped a hand on her shoulder and looked up, still hunched over from her laughing fit.

“That Blight girl has a crush on Luz.”

Lilith blinked, once, twice. She stared at Eda as the gears in her head slowly began to turn and shift.

“...wait, really?”

Eda had to smother another laugh, visibly shaking with the effort.

“I’m serious!” Lilith whispered. “A crush? Is that what this is?”

“Obviously! Kids head-over-staff!” Eda stood up, leaning against the wall as she raised a hand near her chest to smother any further laughs should they come up.

“Honestly, Lily. I knew you weren’t the smartest tool in the shed, but this is ridiculous.” Eda teased. “I thought after years of watching me fall for those kids in Hexside you would’ve been able to recognize this.”

“You were different!” Lilith huffed, crossing her arms and turning her body away slightly.

“You would go out of your way to show-off. You’d do all you could to be near them while laughing at any stupid jokes they made and had the most absurd face when you’d see them across the--”

Lilith paused, thinking over what she said as the smile on Eda’s face grew.

“Wait... wait,”

Eda covered her mouth again and wheezed, turning her head away to avoid laughing harder at the shocked face Lilith was sporting right now.

"See-see my...my point?” Eda wheezed out.

“Great Titan, you’re right. As much as I hate to admit it.” Lilith muttered. “And I tried to get them apart.”

“Yeah, not your smartest move.” Eda giggled. “Still think it’s going to interfere?”

“Of course it is. But I’m not going to stop it.” Lilith said simply. “What do you take me for?”

“A woman who curses her own little sister while she’s asleep?”

Lilith gave Eda a deadpan stare. Eda returned it with a smug one of her own.

“Fair, but still.” Lilith relented. “I’m honestly surprised Amity could get so flustered over, no offence, a human.”

“I was surprised, too.” Eda agreed. “But, honestly? I think it works.”

“What makes you say that?” Lilith wondered.

Eda waved her hand and drew Lilith further down the hallway. She stopped outside of Luz’s room and gestured for her sister to be quiet.

Slowly, Eda cracked open the door and peered inside before stepping back to let Lilith see for herself.

Luz and Amity were leaning upright against the back wall, both of them asleep. A discarded The Good Witch Azura book laying in Amity’s lap.

Luz’s head was resting in the crook of Amity’s neck, mouth half-open.

Amity was laying her head across Luz’s, looking far more peaceful.

They each had a hand resting beside them. Amity’s fingers were brushing Luz’s, having looked like she was going to hold her hand before either chickening out or falling asleep.

“See what I mean?” Eda whispered gleefully as Lilith stepped back and quietly shut the door.

“Alright, yeah, you have a point.” Lilith admitted. “I have a lot to make up for,” She mumbled.

“Eh, you can start now.” Eda shrugged. “Wouldn’t be the first time you messed up.”

Lilith made sure her sister saw the irritated face she gave her.

“Now go to sleep already before we accidentally wake up Hooty. He’ll never shut up if we--”

“Did someone say Hooty?”

“There he is,”

Lilith sat on the couch in the living room, reading a book on glyph-magic. It was early morning, and the rest of the household had yet to rise after the rude awakening from Hooty last night.

Lilith knew that whenever Amity stayed overnight at the Owl House, she would either go home early or very late in the day, depending on if she had informed her parents beforehand.

This time, she had forgotten to tell them.

Lilith wasn’t surprised when she heard the soft footsteps of Amity hurriedly walking down the stairs.

Lilith lowered her book for a moment and turned towards the doorway as Amity stepped through, gazing around nervously. She froze when she saw Lilith, like a child caught stealing from the cookie jar.

“So,” Lilith stared awkwardly, sharply closing her book. “Luz, huh?”

Neither of them moved, or spoke, for a good few moments.

“Seriously?” Amity groaned, giving Lilith an exhausted stare. “I didn’t even do anything yet!”

“This happens that often?”

[porrokin]

“SAINTS BEFORE SIXTH”

i have actually never posted anything like this on my tumblr - i'm kinda nervous ngl.

below you can find the blurb and entire first chapter of the fantasy novel i'm writing! 🤎 i'm so incredibly proud and wanted to share it with you :)

Andy was almost an adult now, not once in the past decade had she been entirely sober. This hadn't been a choice of her own; she didn't get many of those anymore after becoming a permanent resident in the Institute. She'd been permanently deprived of direct sunlight ever since her sixth birthday, on December 30th.

Meanwhile, her best friend claims to speak with his deceased parents and the Keepers found her newest ally before she did. They've been forcing him to use his powers for their selfish winnings, cruel violations like this could go unseen since the Warden disappeared.

Escaping the Keepers is one thing; they're still worlds apart from getting home - considering there's anything to come back to in the first place.

story : all rights reserved ; @porrokin

don't copy or claim this in any way; it is my work and belongs entirely to me.

THE ENTIRE FIRST CHAPTER IS POSTED BELOW !

-

Never once during the past decade had Andy been entirely sober, that fact would, however, become even more disturbing when you considered she was barely eighteen years old. It hadn't been a conscious choice, at least not one of her own.

Ever since her sixth birthday - almost precisely twelve years ago - Keepers had taken the freedom of making decisions away from her. What she ate, where she slept, who she talked to, and whether or not she took her meds four times per day - which she did, much to her disliking.

The Keepers no longer informed Andy of their plans for her, they used to back when she was still enrolled in the program. Christiano was, though she wasn't sure if she always believed him when he talked about what he did during those three hours every Tuesday, Wednesday, and Sunday. Nine hours each week, that's how much time they did want to spend with her roommate. She was on her own, once again.

The line scurried along. Andy hesitantly followed as she took in the newly arrived smell of potatoes and spinach. Lunch must start soon, meaning the clock could say 12:55 am anytime now. The rest of the world outside was sleeping, in contrast to this place - heavily lit by beaming, quietly zooming tubes. The grey ceiling was covered in them, leaving nothing to go by without catching the eye of at least one Keeper. Andy didn't know why they lived during the night, rather than when the sun could cast real and natural light into the long, empty hallways. Probably to keep the public from asking much-needed questions about this place, or perhaps they did know but couldn't care enough.

Another name was called out - not hers. The girl in front of the line had been injected, she swiftly turned around and started walking in against the direction of the line. Back to her room, she went, another day of the same, mundane routine. Day after day, twelve years before you got away.

Long ginger hair draped over her slim shoulders, curls bouncing up slightly with every step she took. Her face looked tense; not unusual for this place, but it was rather strange to see from this girl. When their eyes met, Andy was surprised to see an almost luminescent light grey shade. The girl's eyes were once green but now reminded her of the colour of freshly polished silverware reflecting in the light.

As she walked past her spot in line, electricity seemed to flow through Andy's spine; causing her entire body to shiver. Her eyebrows shaped themselves into a slight frown, for a moment she glanced behind her to look at this girl for an extra second. She wasn't allowed to speak to anyone in white but her roommate, though by now she'd been here long enough to recognize who slept in the same hallway and who didn't.

A loud crackling sound disrupted the silence, a moment later the automated voice began to talk through the speakers. Same time every day, the same voice at exactly five minutes before 1 am. 'Ten minutes before lunchtime, those who have not yet received their injections will be expected back in Hallway 162B in exactly 45 minutes'.

In a matter of seconds, their plan was about to be set in motion.

Right away, rummaging sounds rose from the back of the line. 'I need Andy!', a familiar voice shakily called out. 'My roommate, Andy Donahue!'

'Not up to you, get back in line or I'll make you.' Andy recognized his voice as the heavier Keeper with the bushy, unmanaged moustache. He sounded calm, he'd been quick to tase someone in the past and would most likely have his beefy fingers wrapped around the device already.

She raised her hand and started walking towards the back of the line, her body shaking entirely as if it was freezing and she walked into the cold without any clothes on her limbs.

Without expecting it, she was forcefully yanked back from behind. Before Andy even had time to blink, her arms were locked firmly behind her back, wrists pushing hard against her spine.

'You too, now? Don't think you're an exception to the rules.' Captain Keeper; not because he's the leader, but he sure did like trying to boss the others around. She didn't answer him right away but rather tried to stretch her body and spot Christiano in the hallway. She couldn't.

'I'm his roommate, that's Irvine. Sometimes he freaks out in the presence of many people-' A sweaty hand roughly pulled her head back by her hair, causing her to face the ceiling. Her body alarmed her of the pain this caused to her neck. The bright lights made her eyes tear and she struggled to swallow.

'Did I tell you to open your mouth?' Clammy Hands scoffed.

She attempted to reason with him: 'Let me take him to our room so he can calm down.'

'Get back in line. Otherwise, I'll make sure you don't get out of solitary until snow melts.'

She managed to free her arm from his clammy grasp. 'I can ensure you-'

He reached for her, his face caught between anger and frustration. He was getting impatient, little was he aware that this was exactly Andy's will. She stumbled backwards to avoid him this time, successfully, both of them were surprised by it.

'Christiano will throw up. Do you want that to happen when..' She ever so slightly raised her chin, dramatically pausing for a moment as she raised her boney finger.

Andy continued. 'About six hundred kids still need their injections in this hallway? That seems to be a big inconvenience — if I am allowed to voice my opinion.'

'Sir.' she added. The encounter would surely have been more entertaining would her head not be pounding, the shakiness of her knees increasing by the second. She knew her body needed the meds she managed to rid this morning - she would deny this dependence at any cost if someone were to ask.

He sighed and resultantly nodded in Christiano's direction. 'Go. I'll know where to find you in five minutes.'

She did as told, anxiously searching the hallway for her roommate. So far everything was going just as she so meticulously planned; she was okay.

By now she imagined the time creeping closer to 1:00 am, breaks for the Administration would start in ten minutes; she only needed three. The two minutes after that meant for racing back to their room, in case Captain Keeper was indeed determined to stick to his earlier promise.

Something as cold as ice grabbed her hand, effortlessly disrupting her thoughts. Chocolate brown eyes met hers, a feeling of relief washed over Andy's body. Squeezing his hand, they swiftly disappeared behind the corner at the end of the hallway.

'You got the key?' Andy hushed her voice. Administration breakrooms were still in the same hallway as their offices. She wondered whether they got as little sunlight as the kids here did.

'I do. Traded my last blanket for 15 minutes of borrowing the thing, this place leaks of greedy bastards.' He grinned, accentuating his sharp facial structure.

'If you're right about the Bidding we'll be out of here soon enough anyway.'

'I am right.'

'I believe you.' She extended her hand for him to hand her the key. 'I want to prepare for everything, that's all.'

While Andy gained access to Ad 348H, Christiano leaned nonchalantly against the drinking fountain, his finger push-ready on the button. If she caught the sound of water running, she needed to hide. Christiano would have to sneak her back out after their lunchtime. Not the desired option, as this would be too close for comfort with the Administration break ending at the same time.

Thanks to Christiano's contacts she knew immediately which cabinet to find; about twenty seconds had passed already. Her hands rummaged through the several files and envelopes, one of the many drawers containing surnames with "D" as their starting letter.

She gasped audibly when finally skimming across her own, "Andy Donahue" it said. As she attempted to pull it out, the cardboard folder ripped on one end; the contents spilling out like jelly beans at an overwhelmingly disorganized children's party.

She cursed to herself as she attempted to fish for whatever just got lost within the mass amount of documents and belongings. A soft texture brushed against her finger and with some effort, she managed to grab onto it.

Her journal! Andy's heart skipped a beat, who knew they would've collected this in here after confiscating it years ago. Without hesitation she dropped it into the neck of her jacket, holding it against her stomach with her other hand. What else did she need? Her file was too big to ever sneak out in its entirety and to take this heavy notebook was already a reach.

A loud cough echoed into the room as if she had her fingers in her ears this whole time to block out the noise. Finally, the sound of splashing water seemed to reach her. She slammed the cabinet shut, somehow getting her black sleeve stuck in the process. No, no, this was bad - this was so awfully bad.

While securing the journal with her other arm she put her body up against the heavy metal cabinet and made a desperate attempt at freeing herself from its hold.

'Yes!', slightly too loud.

Within a moment she smoothly turned around, slamming herself against something and stumbling onto the cold concrete flooring.

'We really don't have time anymore, why didn't you come out when I signalled for you?', Christiano grabbed her free arm and hurriedly pulled Andy back up on her feet.

'I'm sorry!'

She followed right behind him, both came to a sudden stop once they'd realized what was waiting behind the walls of Ad 348H. At least six Keepers surrounded them in the hallway, pointing that same amount of stun batons in their direction.

Captain Clammy Hands was the one to break the silence: "Such a shame, Donahue."

-

© PHOTOGRAPHY : @/k_reckd [ TWITTER ]

to read more, check out my story on wattpad @/porrokin [ same as on tumblr ]

CREDIT WHERE IT IS DUE ; THE COVER

© PHOTO - MODEL : @/iiphugs [ TWITTER ]

[skzsauce01]

42nd Moon Pt 9

Description: By some stroke of luck, you get off the waitlist of your biology class. You’d never have guessed you’d find your soulmate there, let alone that he already has a girlfriend… Or that he comes from a fraternity of werewolves.

Warning: none

Word count: 1.3k

Pairing: werewolf!Hyunjin x fem!reader, werewolf!Jisung x fem!reader

Chapter List

Hospitals are surprisingly cheery. It helps to keep morale up in a place when everyone’s fighting a battle.

Next to the door to your room is a tired Jisung draped lazily across a bench. Diagonally across from him is an equally worn Hyunjin. 

After Jisung revived you, you could not stay conscious for long with a broken rib and a bruised lung. Luckily, help was only a half hour away, and you received medical attention without complications. Since then, there wasn’t anything more the doctors can do except wait for you to wake up yourself. That was two days ago. That was the last time the two male wolves who wanted to be by your side the moment you woke up, slept.

As Jisung is zoning out, two loud boys make their way down the hall, causing him to lift up his eyes wearily.

“We’re here,” says the taller one.

“I thought you said we were going to visit your grandma.”

“I had to tell my mom that or she’d never let me come.”

“So who are we visiting?”

The taller one points at your room. Both Hyunjin and Jisung are sitting up straight at this point.

“You know her?” gasps the chubbier one, viewing through the window. “She’s hot.”

“Right? She’s in for a broken bone and some other stuff. Five minutes from now, a doctor’s going to close the blinds to check on her wounds.”

“So?”

“Dude, she broke a rib. And the doctor has to check on it. Probably without clothes.”

The other boy forms an ‘O’ with his mouth before clamping it shut. “Wait, but you said the doctor closes the blinds, so it’s pointless anyway.”

“When I was visiting my grandma last week, I rigged that seventh panel after the previous patient got discharged. One tap through the glass and the view’s gonna be all ours.”

“What’s going to be all yours?” Hyunjin demands.

Suddenly, the boy finds himself lifted off the ground and staring into two yellow eyes. He lets out a whimper and looks to his friend for help only to see him in the same position.

“Care to explain your plan again?” hisses Jisung with one hand gripping the collar of the second boy.

“Let us go! Who are you anyway?” cries the chubbier boy.

“Her boyfriend,” both wolves reply simultaneously, “so you better leave her alone, got it?”

“Ooo,” smirks the boys. “Looks like we have a--”

“SHUT UP!” Hyunjin snaps, letting his sleep deprivation catch up to him. His canines have slid beyond normal human length as he towers over the boy. “Get out of my sight,” he snarls.

The taller boy gulps and nods, unable to speak past his fear. Hyunjin drops him and Jisung does the same. The two boys scramble away with a need for a change of pants.

Jisung crosses his arms once they are gone. “Boyfriend?” 

Hyunjin scoffs. “You said the same, didn’t you?”

“I’m her best friend. I have more rights to borrow the title.”

The taller male falters at Jisung’s validity, but he isn’t about to back down from the challenge. “And I’m her soulmate.”

“You’re her murd--!”

The sound of your EKG changing rhythm breaks off Jisung’s sentence. As tired as they both are, they do not miss the one noise they have been waiting to hear for the past two days. Their wolvish ears perk up as they whip around to see you slowly open your eyes.

Earlier conversation forgotten, they burst into your room, shouting your name and for a nurse.

The sudden noise and bright lights confuse you. There is a throbbing in your chest, but it is much milder than you remember it to be.

“Miss L/N?” calls a nurse.

You let out a breath as you slowly bring her into focus.

“Miss L/N? Can you hear me?”

“--ji…”

“Y/N, I’m right here,” Hyunjin says and gently takes your hand in his.

You blink at him, then turn to blink at Jisung who is glaring at the other male with incredulous eyes. Slowly, you raise your other hand and lower it onto his.

Jisung’s pupils dilate in surprise, but he is quick to wrap both palms around yours. You smile contently before facing back to the nurse.

“Water… please.”

You stay in the hospital for another three days with either Hyunjin, Jisung, or both by your side at all times. Hyunjin brought his daughter to visit a few times too. You are relieved to learn that she suffered no more than a bit of poisoning and dehydration from swallowing seawater. Besides that and Felix’s sprained wrist, you and your friends escaped the shipwreck soundly, and after the three days, you are allowed to go home like nothing ever happened.

“Chan texted. He’s downstairs with the car. I’ll load these on first,” Hyunjin informs while holding up some of your belongings.

“Thanks, Hyunjin,” you nod.

He smiles at you and disappears down the hall. You turn your attention to Jisung who is re-reading your post-hospitalization care pamphlet. You walk over and tap him on the shoulder.

“Who’s there?” he exclaims and whips around.

You withdraw your hand, eyes wide with shock. Jisung has been on edge ever since the cruise.

“Oh, it’s just you,” he sighs. “Sorry.”

“Is something wrong? You’ve been jumpy lately,” you frown.

“It’s nothing.” He runs a hand through his hair. “I’m just scared something might happen again. Guess you can call it paranoia.” 

He tries to brush it off with a laugh, but you keep your frown. 

“I’m sorry for making you worry,” you apologize. “Hyunjin told me what happened to your soulmate. I’m sorry I brought things back.”

“Hyunjin, huh… It feels like I’m losing more and more every day.”

“What?”

“Nothing.” He zips up the last bag with one sharp motion. “I mean, you don’t have to be sorry for worrying me. I’ll always worry about you; it doesn’t feel right unless I do.”

His words are often endearing, but this time, something feels off.

“B-because we’re friends?” you squeak.

Jisung laughs dryly and lowers his gaze to your mark. “You still love him, don’t you?”

You hold your wrist to your chest defensively with your other hand. You know how Jisung feels about the other wolf. “I--”

“It’s okay,” he says in a softer tone. “The bond never really breaks. Or at least not until someone dies,” he adds humorlessly. “And Hyunjin’s a really great guy. Believe it or not, he was my best friend until Jiyoung came into the picture. He made a lot of mistakes, but he’s honestly very sweet and hardworking.” He puts down the pamphlet with sudden vigor. “That’s why I can’t wait any longer. I can’t keep delaying, or he’ll surely get what he wants.”

He closes the door and the blinds. No distractions this time.

“Y/N.”

Your feet shuffle backward until one heel hits the wall as Jisung approaches you with unmistakable fervor in his eyes.

“I think it’s time I answered that question you asked on the boat,” he begins. “About the girl who brought light into my world when I thought there was none left-- the one who gave me hope and love after years of living without such things. I met her a few years back. She’s brilliant, radiant, compassionate... I could go on, but you already know all of this.”

He has you trapped between him and the wall. He slams a hand on the window by your head. You can hear something rattling, probably the blinds.

“But what you don’t know is...” he whispers, his breathing haggard and uneven.

This is it, he thinks. His time is running out, not just because of Hyunjin, but also because of the ever-passing moons. Just twenty-two more moons. Twenty-two more moons will he have to hold you, to see you smile, to have you fall asleep amidst his silver fur. Or twenty-two more moon will he have to see you laughing with Hyunjin, hand in hand with his child between you in the perfect family formation Jisung will never get to have. 

It’s now or never.

“... is I…”

A/N:  😈 😈 😈 😈

[florenceandthemachine]

okay but jackson falling for single dad stiles (◕‿◕✿)

SO (and I feel like I’m going to be saying this a lot) HERES THE THING.

@jacksonstilinskis, as you can assume, the first time they meet is a fucking disaster.

It’s a disaster because Stiles moved to New York for his bachelor degree, partially in an attempt to chase the highest scholarship he was awarded and partially in an attempt to get the fuck out of Beacon Hills, the place that killed his mother, his father, and his best friend — and the place that left him with a squirming three month old less than a year after he graduates high school, a gift from the recently departed. 

He gets a major in Criminology and a minors in Mythological Studies, rocks the single father gig, and manages to teach Claudia (Scotts idea, Stiles had cried when he found out) what is okay to bite and what is not okay to bite, but getting into grad school is a whole other animal. 

It’s a disaster because Stiles decides to forgo taking out a mortgage in student loans and tries to save up for his masters program by joining up with the NYPD. They have amazing benefits, amazing child support, and a legal team that could kick anyones ass.

It’s a disaster because six years later, when Stiles and Jackson first meet, Stiles is in uniform (a uniform he looks damn good in, Jackson begrudgingly acknowledges) and Jackson’s Porsche just hit about 87 miles per hour in a 55.

The best part is (well, the best part if you ask Stiles — the worst part if you ask Jackson) is that Jackson has been pulled over hundreds of times before, and he always — always — gets out of it with a smile and a laugh and an apology, and Stiles could not give less of a fuck. Jackson breaks out all the tricks. The smile, the pout, the puppy eyes. He actually thinks it works for a second — Stiles is smiling back at him, and Jackson isn’t above tilting his head to get a better look at the way the uniform hugs him, but then Stiles is asking for his registration and insurance and Jackson’s smile falls into a scowl.

Finally, he brings out the big guns — he casually gestures to his scrubs, mentions he’s on his way to a surgery, because being top of his class at Harvard Medical had to count for something — and he really was in a rush, officer, he had to get to the patient right away. 

Stiles has the audacity to roll his eyes and laugh as he hands Jackson his ticket, and Jackson has to pretend that the sound didn’t make a shiver dance over his skin. “Well, I certainly hope you take more time and care with your patient then you do on your commute. Have a better day.”

The cruiser follows him all the way to the hospital, and Jackson feels a moment of petty anger before he realizes that the 23rd Precinct is basically right across Park Avenue from Mount Sinai Hospital. If he looks out the window of his office, he can see a steady stream of police cars going in and out of the underground garage. 

Huh. 

—

Jackson allowed himself a full week to whine to everyone who would listen about his ticket after he plea bargained it down, but then even he got tired of sulking —

(“I am not sulking, Laura.”

“It was over a month ago. You are absolutely sulking, you baby.”)

— sulking over who he had only thought of as Officer Asshole. Who the fuck gives a speeding ticket to a doctor, a doctor that was on his way to surgery?

Not that Jackson had actually been on his way to surgery. He was never in a rush to surgery, because he was never late to surgery, because he barely left the hospital on his days off, let alone a day he had a surgery scheduled. 

Either way, that was months ago, and even Jackson couldn’t hold a grudge that long. He was in rotation today — Mount Sinai may have been one of the best hospitals in the nation, but it was first and foremost a children's hospital, and being in rotation — and seeing the people that they were helping, the kids they were helping, really helped bring that home to everyone. 

He grabbed the next clipboard off of a stack and pushed open the door to the waiting room, taking count of all the parents and kids waiting for everything from a bruised knee (helecoptor parents) to any number of fakers (midterm season was rough on everyone).

“Claudia and Stiles... Stilinski?”

What the hell was a Stiles?

Jackson only had half a moment to think about it before a dark head popped up, a child that couldn’t have been more than six in his arms, and Jackson almost felt resentful when he realized that he was staring at Officer Asshole again. And Officer Asshole had a kid, who looked absolutely miserable, and Officer Asshole looked miserable in proxy to his kid, and Jackson really needed to start thinking of him as a “Stiles” before he accidentally called him officer Asshole out loud. 

Jackson guided them back to an exam room full of stuffed toys and bright colors on the wall, letting Stiles take his time setting Claudia down on the bench before sitting right beside her. He introduced himself and smiled down to Claudia — who had a low fever and was squirming uncomfortably, rubbing her little hands against her flushed cheeks, and Jackson would never think that was not cute. Even a sick kid was a cute kid, and though this kid was sick...

“...it’s nothing to be worried about. Kids get sick all the time, and it sucks, but it happens.” Jackson said, using his full soothing doctor voice on Stiles, who looked at the same time utterly relieved and totally embarrassed. 

He confirmed as much as he stood up, taking a prescription from Jackson for some children's medicine to help bring Claudia’s fever down, shaking his head slowly. “Sorry. It was probably overkill to bring her to a hospital, but I’m still pretty new to this parenting thing. I just... I don’t know, I have a tendency to assume the worst, after... well. I just do.”

Jackson almost laughs again, shaking his head. “Don’t ever apologize for advocating for your kid. It’s the best thing you can do, next to pulling over innocent doctors who definitely aren't speeding.” He reaches out to shake Stiles hand, dazzling smile on his face, and Stiles’ blooms into recognition. 

“You’re the doctor! The doctor I pulled over. Sorry, I forget names and faces, but I could never forget that smile.” Stiles said, a grin on his own face, shaking Jackson’s hand for a few seconds before his eyes widened in horror, yanking his hand back. “Oh god. That sounded so creepy, I’m so sorry, she’s kept me up for three days straight. I didn’t mean it in a weird way. I just—uh, I have to go. Thank you again! Please don’t think I'm some freak in a uniform!” he says, almost tripping over a nurse as he backs out of the room. 

Jackson is grinning even wider, a real smile splitting his face, and he can’t help but call after him. “The coffee cart on 102nd is great for long nights. Favorite for all on call doctors and most of the boys in blue.”

Stiles smiles weakly and gives a thumbs up, disappearing down the stairway. 

Officer Asshole — Stilinski, he reminded himself — wasn’t just hot, he was actually kind of cute. He was a cute dad. 

Jackson was kind of fucked.

—

Jackson is sitting on a bench on 102nd Avenue, looking up at the dark night sky, when a danish lands in his lap. Jackson just looks at it for a minute — he’s just finishing up a thirty hour shift, and he’s only vaguely sure what’s real anymore — before he looks up, staring dumbly at the cup of coffee extended to him. 

“It’s uh, a peace offering. And an apology? I mean, I’m not sorry for writing you a ticket. You were speeding. But I am sorry for calling you Doctor Dickbag for like a week afterward. But that medicine you gave me had Claudia back to her giggly self in no time, so I think you’re even. With yourself.”

It’s Stilinski, and judging by his pressed uniform, styled hair, and bright (if not nervous) smile, he’s just getting on shift while Jackson is mentally checking out of his own. 

As soon as he puts two and two together, Jackson gratefully takes the cup and takes a too long swig of what tastes like frothy sugar milk, almost gagging as he looks at Stiles like he had been poisoned. “What the hell is this, a hot milkshake? Oh god, I should have known you were the type who drinks hot sugar, not coffee.”

Stiles has the audacity to laugh as he sits beside Jackson, and the two of them fall into easy, if shallow, conversation. They talk about work, and themselves, and soon Stiles is checking his watch with an apology, because his shift starts at 4 and he has to get into the precinct. 

Jackson watches as he stands up and puts on his fancy police hat, and later, he’ll blame it on sleep deprivation, but he calls out after Stiles’ retreating form. 

“So, coffee and a danish, maybe breakfast next time? I’ll buy.”

Stiles stops and turns, looking Jackson over, and he grins as he nods his head, even if his cheeks are pink. “It’s a date.” He winks and turns back around, and Jackson actually feels goosebumps on the back of his neck.

Oh, Jackson was fucked. He flops back on the bench and smiles to himself, before frowning, whirling around to yell at Stiles’ retreating backside. 

“Wait, what the fuck do you mean you were calling me Doctor Dickbag?!”

—

They manage to have several coffee / breakfast / here’s a meal dates, and Jackson is almost proud of their timing—Stiles kisses Jackson on date number two, a quick peck that leaves Jackson’s world on it’s edge as he grins at Stiles blushing backside as he speaks rapid fire into his radio, now buzzing with life. It’s cute on their first date, but gets old by their fourth date, they manage to kiss for almost twenty seconds in the ambulance bay at Mount Sinai before Jackson’s pager goes off. He groans and pulls away, glaring at the device as though it personally offended him, and Stiles laughs as he brings Jackson’s hands up to kiss Jackson’s knuckles. 

“Go, go save lives. But, uh, if you were free on Thursday, I was thinking... maybe we could have our next date at my place? I’ve already got Mrs. Bobrowski on speed dial to babysit.” Stiles says, his tone confident even if he’s chewing his lip nervously. It’s a trick question — Stiles is off, and Stiles knows that Jackson is off, and Stiles already secured a babysitter, and Jackson can feel Stiles eyes dipping back from his lips to the low V of his scrub top, and Jackson wastes no time before agreeing wholeheartedly. 

“It’s a date.” he murmurs against Stiles lips, squeezing his ass through the uniform, and Stiles squeaks in appreciation as he swats Jackson toward the hospital doors. 

Thursday rolls around and Jackson puts on a tight pair of jeans, a button down shirt with far too many buttons undone to be decent, and adds just a drop of cologne to his pulse point. He looks good. He feels good. He buys flowers, for fucks sake, which means that of course when he knocks on Stiles door, Stiles is wearing a ratty tee shirt and sweats and has a pained look on his face. 

“Jackson, I’m so sorry, Mrs. Bobrowski cancelled on me and I couldn’t get another sitter and I wanted to call you and tell you but I left my phone at the station and—”

Stiles looks miserable, and that’s all Jackson needs to know he’s telling the truth, that he truly is sorry, and that he’s going to tell Jackson “another time”, like having a kid involved would ruin a dinner date. Jackson takes a split second before shutting Stiles up with a kiss, brushing past him with a grand flourish as he says Claudia in the living room, bending down to give her first choice on Stiles flowers.

Stiles just stands in the doorway, stunned, looking as Jackson goes to the kitchen, Claudia skipping along happily behind him, excitedly waving her new purple flower in the air. 

“Jackson, you don’t have to—”

“Stilinski, you have three seconds to shut up and tell me where to find a vase, and then tell me how I can help you with dinner.” Jackson says expectantly, and Stiles feels something warm curl around his chest.

—

They have dinosaur nuggets and carrots and peas for dinner, and Jackson loves it. 

They watch a Disney movie and Jackson holds Stiles hand on the couch, and he loves it.

Stiles puts Claudia to bed and then turns to Jackson with such a hungry look in his eye, he can hardly blink before Stiles has him pulled into his bedroom, and fuck, Jackson loves it. 

They barely get each other naked before they tumble into bed, and Stiles is rubbing against him so deliciously, and Jackson mouthes at his neck and bites at his pulse, and he would almost be ashamed of how quickly he comes, his body warm against Stiles, thrusting against his hips, but Stiles is right behind him, and they’re warm and sticky and have a mess on their abdomens. 

Jackson just looks at Stiles in surprise, and they both stare a moment before they’re both laughing, desperately trying to stifle the sound so they don’t wake Claudia. Jackson wipes them clean with something on the floor (”that's my shirt, you ass!” Stiles basically squawks) and then they both lay there in bed, listening to the sounds of the city from the window, and Stiles starts to talk. 

He tells them about his best friend Scott and his wife Allison that married right out of high school, and Allison who got pregnant before her first day at UCLA. He tells them about how after Claudia was born, they made Stiles the godparent, and then left Claudia in his care while they went on a much-delayed honeymoon to the coast, and then he tells them about how a little gas leak in the hotel robbed him of his two best friends and robbed Claudia of her parents. 

He goes through it quickly — “what happened then sucks, but there’s no sense in wishing it was different” — but it brings him to his next point, lying with his head on Jackson’s chest, fingers tracing the lines across his stomach. 

“Usually, guys run like hell when I say daughter. I’m a 26 year old cop with a 6 year old kid, and something about that is terrifying. Not that I think you’re going to be terrified, but—”

“Stiles, if this is the part of the show where you tell me that you and Claudia are a package deal, can it. I know. I’m not mad about it. Hell, I’ve already fooled you into thinking I’m more than just a dickwad, I’m not backing out now, I’ve put too much work into this.” Jackson snarks, and Stiles looks at him for a minute like he was crazy before he reads into Jackson’s facial expression, and his smile softens again. 

“You’re still a dickwad. Doctor Dickwad.” Stiles says, playfully squeezing Jackson’s side. “But I guess I can keep you around as long as Claudia finds you useful.” he says with a dreamy sign, nosing along Jackson’s jawline once more.

Jackson just grins and turns to kiss him, taking a moment to realize—

he was so, so fucked.

[peterthepark]

Taking Care of You

Steve Harrington x Reader

basically how steve cares for you when you’re sick or under the weather :) enjoy! this was requested!

steve is suddenly a mom

not that he wasn’t before but he never bossed you around like he did towards the kids

so when you catch a cold/fever or get the flu

mom steve is instantly activated

“it’s because you didn’t wear a damn jacket!”

“i wasn’t cold!”

“well, now look at you! you have a fever!”

steve is somehow pampering you but also scolding you?

he’ll run you warm baths, put a cold towel over your forehead to cool you down, feed you soup, give you massages

he’s an angel

but also he doesn’t know when to stop because he wants to make sure you’re okay

“steve, stop checking my temperature every twenty minutes. im literally fine.”

“98.9?! dude, are you taking your medicine?”

“it’s not gonna go away in one day, harrington.”

if you lose your voice or your throat hurts, steve hands you a whiteboard and you write everything you need

sometimes you like to make fun of him

you’ll write shit like “are you my boyfriend or my mom?”

steve rolls his eyes because well, you’re not wrong

when the party wants to come over and see you, steve shuts that shit down

because the last time they went over when someone was sick...

they ALL got sick

and thought they were going to die

dustin and max will beg steve to see you

“please! she’s our friend, too!”

“yeah, and she’s sick! do you guys want to get sick?”

and they’ll make fun of him again

he’s a little hurt

but mom steve takes over and he literally kicks out the kids onto the curb

“come back when Y/N isn’t dying!”

but you’ll peek your head out of your bedroom window and wave to the kids

they’re so elated to see you

“Y/N! blink once if steve has captured you! blink twice if you’re fine!” lucas will yell out to you as if your boyfriend can’t hear him

you blink once

because he’s keeping you in ‘quarantine’

you don’t hate it, it’s actually quite funny

steve deprives you of kisses

“if i get sick, babe, who will take care of you?”

but he gives you hugs and cuddles

lots of them

you’re watching movies most of the time

then sleeping or napping

OH and there’s days where steve is really bossy

which happens to make you really horny

steve takes care of that

but still no kissing

“you were literally in between my legs like thirty seconds ago but you can’t give me a kiss?”

“uh, yeah. is there a problem? did i not give you the best orgasm of your life or what?”

“steve harrington!”

he starts to keep jackets for you in his car

just in case it’s really cold

and he knows you’re prone to getting sick

so he’s super alert of the things you do

steve hates seeing you miserable

and he hates not being able to kiss you

[blue-eyes-and-auburn-hairr]

Second Chances Chp. 2

Disclaimer: Okay, I got more notes than I thought I ever would, so while the world is quarantined...I wrote another part. 

Warning: Mention of death

Summary: Can you imagine being widowed at such a young age to a man you thought you’d have forever with? On the anniversary of his death, on top of a mountain, you and Chris begin your new journey together.

I could feel some of the weight on my shoulders disappear as those words left my mouth. I stopped believing in fate and destiny a long time ago, but it felt as though everything was clicking into place. The reassurance from a stranger and his pup seemed to give me the peace of mind that I needed. I am not naive though and have been taught to question everything, but at that moment I truly wanted to believe that this was real. 

I slowly turned forward, with a blank slate in front of me, to a man in a Red Sox ball cap and a pair of glasses. “I would apologize for having it, but honestly I think society should be apologizing to all females that believe they need to carry something to protect themselves when alone.” I honestly don’t know why I said that maybe the SVU marathon that was on last night or simply the need to start having this conversation in a time when many would prefer to ignore the issue. 

But now I am probably coming off as a hostile jerk talking to herself on a mountain.

“Ma’am once again all good, no need to apologize, I have two sisters I totally understand. I am just kind of grateful you didn’t have pepper spray in the bag… that shit burns.” He laughs, for the second time trying to ease the conversation, I don’t even think he knows he is doing it. 

I laugh myself with a smile on my face as I squat down reaching into my backpack. “Well Dodger, I don’t think your pops is a fan of you having some berries, but I do think I have something in here for you.” I find that bag of peanut butter Milk-Bone I usually keep for Kodi when we go for our walks. 

I stay squatted and make eyes at Dodger and his human to see if it is okay to give him a treat. He nods and Dodgers waddles over to me and graciously accepts the treats while laying down for a nice belly rub. 

“My pup is in love with all things peanut butter, so I always keep a bag on me.” I laugh again as the man makes his way over to Dodger and me. 

“Well, Dodger is never one to turn down a sweet treat or making a new friend laugh.”

At this point, I stand up and wipe my hands off on my leggings, “I am Thea by the way, it’s nice to meet you and your sweet boy.” 

He shakes my hand and introduces himself as Chris, which I of course already sort of knew, but I wanted to keep this organic and real. 

“You guys are more than welcome to join me, the sun should be setting…” I look down at my watch “in about a half hour and you do not want to miss all the colors, especially when you have the best seat in the house.”

I sit down again and continue to scratch Dodger’s head and offer him another treat for being so friendly. 

“Now how can we pass up an offer like that? What do you say boy do you want to watch a sunset?” I think Dodger’s kisses all over Chris’s face answer that question.

We drift into a comfortable silence, listening to the nature around us and enjoying each other’s company. I have never been one to be so forward with a guy before, I am very much shy, quiet girl. Typically that’s because I become overly anxious, which is apparent by my Irish skin betraying me making my face flush crimson. I know most people find it cute and sweet but as a twenty-something year old, you do not want to be referred to as cute. or. sweet. 

Once again not reading into anything here, maybe I am simply relaxed because I have truly started to let go and move forward with my life...or its the baseball cap on my head that is shielding part of my face. 

“So how did you stumble upon the best seat in the house anyway?” Chris asked being the first to break the silence. 

“I went to college around here and found this trail in my junior year. I try and make my way back here every year, so many memories I’d like to hold on to.” I cautiously say not trying to overshare, but still being true and honest. 

“Did you go to West Point?” He pointed to my cap and to the school you can see just past Constitution Island in the distance.  

“Oh no, I don’t think I could have survived that place. I don’t think I would have done well at a military academy.” I smiled at him but my chest tightened ever so slightly. “I went to school about 15 miles north,” I said pointing over my shoulder. 

“I am doing a presentation, I think that’s what they are calling it, on campus tomorrow morning” I twirl the claddagh ring that hangs from a chain on my neck. We both sit there silently for a few minutes, there are so many questions I want to ask him and I can tell he feels the same way. He keeps opening his mouth to say something and quickly closing it. I can feel my Jamie laughing at me like, “You are sitting in our spot, today of all days, with Chris Evans and you’re just not going to talk about me? That’s just rude beautiful.” He would laugh calling me a dork, bump my shoulder and tell me to live in the moment and to just breathe.  

“I’m sure the cadets will be extremely excited to see you! I can only imagine the guy on gate duty seeing you pull up tomorrow, you’ll definitely make his day. My husband said that was the worst gig, especially over the weekend.”  

“Your husband graduated from there?” He says while turning his head to look at the sky slowly change color. 

“Mhmmm, almost seven years ago. Crazy how fast time flies when you aren’t sleep deprived and writing papers” I giggly thinking back to all those late nights while watching the sun slowly creep towards the horizon. 

“Well please thank him for his service and thank you as well” he finally says after a few minutes taking off his glasses and truly looking at me.

“Thank you for your support” I smile at him and quickly look away to watch the sun officially set, another day done. 

I stand up slowly and look through my backpack. “Chris, can you do me a favor?” I ask trying to keep my voice calm and swallow the dryness in my throat.  

I pass him my phone, “Can you take a video of this for me?”

He seems confused but stands as well and takes the phone from my hand. He sees the look on my face and responds with a look of concern. I give him a broken smile and ask him to press play.  I pull out the lantern that my mom bought for me and then with shaking hands I take out a lighter and ignite the lantern. I hold it in my hands and quietly whisper the words that were so beautifully written on it. Letting go it slowly drifts into the sky taking with it another year of memories.

From New York with Love,  Three Years of Missing You, Forever to Go

[sariahsue]

The Open Line - Chapter Nine, Claws and Bugs

Ladybug knows that if it weren’t for Adrien, she would have fallen for Cat Noir, hard and fast. And when Oblivio takes her memory, she does just that. Able to keep her memory after the Oblivio incident but still unaware of Cat Noir’s real identity, Ladybug must deal with her growing feelings for her partner, who is desperately trying to win her over. (Rated PG.)

Read Chapter One Here Reach Chapter Eight Here

***

Adrien was normally quick to hop out of bed in the morning, eager for school and to see his friends, but today he laid in bed for nearly twenty minutes, staring at the picture Ladybug had sent him. (He'd printed it and kept it under his pillow all night. Plagg had made fun of him.) Adrien was determined to have it memorized by the time he left for school.

Ladybug had made sure to hide personal details and belongings from view. There were no hints to her identity, but she hadn't been able to hide the pink wall she'd taped the picture to. Pink. Her room was painted pink. Was that her favorite color? Should he get her pink flowers? She also hadn't hidden her pink bedspread. Her bed! Not only had she hung up his picture, but she'd put it next to her BED. Was it the first thing she saw that morning? Had she been staring at it as she'd fallen asleep last night?

A loud knock on the door gave him a half-second warning to hide the picture under his blanket before Nathalie came marching in. She didn't even look at him before she began listing off his schedule for the day, which was packed. "Your father expects you downstairs promptly. You both will be very busy today, and he doesn't want any delays."

"Yes, Nathalie. I'll be right down." As soon as she left the room, he lunged for the photo. Breakfast could wait, so he sank into his pillows and forgot about Nathalie and her schedules, holding the photo high above his head this time, to get a new angle.

There was light shining directly onto Ladybug's bedroom wall, though he couldn't see its source. That probably meant she had a lamp close by. Did she read before falling asleep? What was her favorite book?

The best part of her message last night was definitely the caption she'd added. "Got to have a picture of my favorite partner on display!" It was silly. It shouldn't make him so happy. He was her only partner, but he had never been called anyone's favorite anything before. He repeated her words to himself as he finally got ready for the day.

He skipped down the stairs, ten minutes late for breakfast, only to be greeted by a scowl.

"Did Nathalie tell you I expected your punctuality?" his father asked. Even from Gabriel's spot at the far end of the table, Adrien could feel the open disappointment, almost anger. But Ladybug's words kept him insulated and safe.

"Yes," Adrien said. "But I didn't know-"

"And you chose to disrespect her direction and my time because?"

"Uh..." Because Ladybug said he was her favorite! She didn't push him away when he kissed her! "I guess I was... tired?"

"I see," Gabriel said, picking up his plate has he rose from the table. "I had hoped to spend some time with my son, but as he places such a low value on me, I will be finishing my meal in my office." Gabriel swept past him and was gone.

"If he'd told me he was going to be here..."

"His loss," Plagg said from his pocket. "Hey, we could always go back to bed. I think there's a certain wheel of cheese calling my name and a certain picture calling yours."

"Nice try." Adrien grabbed his plate and walked toward the front door. It was odd, how bad he didn't feel about his father's behavior. It was unfortunate, but it couldn't damage his good mood. He was Ladybug's favorite! She'd let him kiss her hand like six times last night!

Remembering that got him through a grueling day. Nathalie hadn't been exaggerating when she said he'd be busy. School was full of tests and Chloe's drama, all made harder by his sleep deprivation. Double fencing left him exhausted. Then there was a photoshoot. And finally, piano lessons, where he was berated for his "obvious lack of practice and respect for the piano as an instrument and an art form."

"I'd like to see him work in practicing around all the akumas I have to fight."

"Or all the daydreaming about Ladybug," Plagg added. It was amazing how much of Adrien's pillow he was taking up. Plagg was spread out, basking in a square of sunshine. One eye was cracked open, so he could see what kind of effect his teasing had.

"I'm not that bad."

"You sure?"

"Scoot over." Adrien flopped face-first onto his bed, already reaching for the photo. It was a relief to have his room to himself again. He was nearing his physical limits, and he had past his people limit a long time ago. Well, people that weren't Ladybug. He wished there was a patrol scheduled tonight. Having pictures of her was nice, but nothing could compare to the comfort of her presence.

The door swung open, and Plagg dove out of sight while Adrien scrambled to his feet to face his visitor. Seeing Gabriel twice on the same day was a rare occurrence, and normally Adrien would have been glad for the attention, but his father's face was even more sour than it had been that morning.

"The photographer sent me the raw images of today's shoot, Adrien. Your work was subpar."

Adrien's mouth twitched. He did not have the energy for this. "It's just the raws," Adrien said. "They're going to Photoshop it anyway."

"You can't airbrush failure. Your performance was unacceptable."

"Maybe it shouldn't have been scheduled after two hours of fencing, then. I was tired." His words hung in the air between them, but Adrien wouldn't have taken them back even if he could have. He was too tired. Too tired of being pushed around today, too tired of being everyone's disappointment.

"You will not be practicing with your band on Saturday."

"But they're counting on me to be there! I've missed the last four-"

Gabriel steamrolled over him. "You will be spending your newly freed time to practice your piano. I met your teacher on his way out, and he tells me your skill is quickly deteriorating."

Adrien folded his arms and looked away.

"I can see this is getting too much for you," Gabriel said softly.

Adrien dared to hope that his father was finally understanding him, that he would be removing some of his burdensome lessons or shoots, but he should have known better. It made Gabriel's next words cut deeper.

"If your performance – and your attitude – do not improve, we will be returning to homeschooling."

Even as he left the room, it felt like Gabriel's claws closed in around Adrien. No band on Saturday. That was expected. It seemed like his father would use any excuse to keep him from going. But no school? The last time he'd threatened that had been ages ago. And if he were being monitored by a tutor at home all day, it would be so much harder to slip away if an akuma attacked. No band, no school, no Cat Noir.

Adrien threw himself on the piano bench in frustration and started playing. Let his father hear him practice. Let him think that his son was cooperative and submissive.

"Ah, don't worry," Plagg said, floating over. He'd retrieved Ladybug's picture from underneath the pillow, and it dangled between his paws. "He'll forget about everything in a few days. Just watch." He set the photo on top of Adrien's music.

"Just let me play," Adrien said, shifting the picture aside to see the music. "I want him to think he's won." Plagg was trying to be helpful, and he appreciated the gesture, but he needed to see the real thing. A photo wasn't enough anymore.

"Why?"

"So he won't check on me again." Don't think. Just play. Then see Ladybug.

Don't feel.

This plan only lasted fifteen minutes until Adrien couldn't stand to be in his own house any longer. It would have to be enough. He was jumping through the window before he'd even finished transforming, into the first truly cold night of October. The city was misty and dreary, which didn't match his mood. He wanted a thunderstorm.

Sixteen blocks away from his house, he finally stopped to contact Ladybug. It rang, and rang and rang, until it went to her inbox. Even though he knew there was no point, that she wasn't transformed, he tried again. And again. The weather turned menacing.

When he finally gave up - without leaving a message - he wasn't sure what to do next. There was nowhere he could really go. There was no one who really wanted him around. So he wandered, buffeted by the wind and getting soaked to the bone, trying not to remind himself that because he was Ladybug's only partner, he was also her least favorite.

"She never said that," he told himself firmly. "That wasn't what she meant." Alone and abandoned in the rain, it was hard to believe he'd had a reason to be happy that morning.

Water and wind eventually drove him to find shelter. The Notre Dame was big enough to hide him, tall enough that he wouldn't be able to hear the people and cars below him. The enormous roof was made out of wood and had many eaves and ledges he where he could sit and be alone, but when he sat down, he found that the spot was already taken.

"Figures," he said. A swarm of ladybugs huddled there for warmth. "You're not the one I want right now." He settled down anyway and stayed there, unmoving, for he didn't know how long. Long enough that tourists returned to their hotels and street lights flickered on. Long enough for the bugs to realize he was a much better heat source than the wooden rafters and start to crawl over him instead. His only friends.

"It's a sign," he said, looking down at himself. "Soon she'll want me just as much as you all do."

"Who are you talking to?"

"Ladybug!" She'd come! And just like that, his heart hurt a little less. "Would you like to meet my friends?" He motioned to the little insects crawling over his knees.

Droplets of water hit his legs as she wrung out her hair. "They can't get enough of you," she noted, sitting down next to him. The ledge was wide and sheltered from the wind, just big enough for the both of them.

"So you were jealous and came to get a piece of the action?"

"Ha. Funny. I checked the Ladyblog a few minutes ago and saw reports that you've been up here for hours, sulking."

"Oh, uh..." Should he tell her? Should he try to cover it up? Play it off? He didn't want her to think he couldn't handle something as stupid as a bad day. She would be disappointed in him too, just like everyone else, and he would do anything to avoid that.

But Ladybug saw through his hesitation. "Your dad again?"

Cat Noir sighed and then nodded. "Today's been kind of awful." It was a relief to tell the truth. And an even bigger relief that he didn't have to say it himself.

"I'm sorry," she said, leaning against him, lending him her support with her presence.

They didn't talk much. Ladybug brushed bugs off his shoulders and hands, and stroked his hair whenever she thought he needed a distraction from the gloom that waited for him beyond their island of tranquility.

"I wish I'd gotten here sooner," she said over an hour later. "We're partners. I hate the idea of you facing tough stuff by yourself, even if it's not an akuma."

"You could always give me your number, Bugaboo," he joked. "I tried calling your yoyo earlier, but you weren't transformed."

He expected an eye roll and a lecture on keeping civilian and super lives separate, so he wasn't quite sure what to make of it when she looped her arm through his and hummed thoughtfully. Was she actually considering it? He'd said it as a joke!

But she lapsed back into silence without really answering, and the hope her reaction had ignited was quickly extinguished in the gloom that engulfed the rest of the city. Of course she wasn't going to give him her number. She was more willing to spend time with him, more generous with her touches because she knew he was upset, but that was it. There was no indication that it would ever be more than that, and he shouldn't get his hopes up.

They spent another half hour in silence, until Ladybug got up with a grimace. "We can't stay out late two nights in a row."

"Yeah, I should get back. Before someone misses me." Miss him? Ha. Like that would happen.

"I have an idea," she said, holding a hand out to help him up. "And I think you'll really like it."

"What's that?" Once on his feet, Cat Noir didn't let her hand go. Neither, he noticed, did she.

"I'll tell you tomorrow, if I can figure out the details."

"We don't have patrol tomorrow, though."

"Oh, well, we could- that is..."

She paused and looked shyly away, and Cat Noir felt his feeble hope burn back to life. This was something new. Scheduling to meet up outside of patrols? It was unprecedented. It couldn't be...

"Would you meet me anyway?"

"Of course, LB. I would love to."

"Ten at the Tower?"

"Sure."

It was happening. It was honestly, truly happening. They were planning to meet, not because the city needed them, or because he was having a bad day, or on accident. Just because she wanted to spend time with him.

Ladybug beamed, then pushed herself up on her toes and kissed his cheek before saying in a rush, "Hope you feel better. See you tomorrow. Bye!"

As soon as she was out of sight, Cat Noir did a little dance on the ledge. But the ledge wasn't big enough, and on his second pirouette, he lost his balance and fell off. Laughing, he waited until the very last second to save himself, but even that rush couldn't compare to the high his Lady had just given him.

Read Chapter Ten Here

***

Author's note: This story is officially a "Notre Dame Cathedral Didn't Burn Down" AU. I'm a writer. I can make reality whatever I want, and I want that building to not have burned.

I had a lot of obstacles to getting this chapter done for tonight, and I wasn't sure I was going to be able to. I had to push myself to get this done in time, but I'm happy that I did! Next week, back to Marinette. Let's see what SHE makes out of her own behavior!

[midnights-song]

“Explain, now!” Damian Wayne x Hero!Reader

Request: Damian’s girlfriend is a super hero without his knowledge, straight down to the powers. Damian is unaware of this until one day he finds out the hard way.

A/N: Y’all I swear If its not one thing its twenty others! Finally get everything fixed and then I get sick and injured. Typical. Anyways, this has been a work in progress for so long so I can only hope it pleases you @stormcloud12

Note: Damian is 18 for the purpose of this story, there will be creations of my own in this, so please be warned and understanding!!

 Gotham, you never could quite understand what everyone had against it, the city held a pull that drew everyone in. The rain particularly, seeing as you had come from a place that didn’t get much rain, or even clouds for that matter. You loved the city in all of its darkness, but when it came to the crime that threatened the streets it was a different story. You could understand why all of the Gothamites seemed, disturbed. 

 You had just turned the ever so lucky 18 when you first went to the city, rebelling against your overprotective parents in a show of ‘I am an adult now, I can do whatever I want!’ Oh how wrong you were! Not even twenty minutes in the city, you had been mugged and you met the ever infamous Robin. You guessed that you were one of the lucky souls that just happened to be reasonably close to him for him to hear your screams, because you could tell his uniform was hastily thrown on. Now it still covered his identity, but it was unusually crumpled, like it had been folded less than a minute ago. 

 After the mugging fiasco, like any insane person would, you decided that you rather enjoyed the city. Within a few weeks you had secured a job, it wasn’t well paying but it was enough to get an apartment and groceries. You walked to work every day, it was decently close to your apartment complex. You decided that you loved animals more than anything else in this world and had gotten a job down at the shelter and the local veterinarian’s office! How exciting!

 You had one client though that you particularly loved to see, and that was a Great Dane named Titus. Now his owner was a bit, different, you could say. Damian wasn’t much of a talker, but the second you got Titus into a room everything changed. He asked so many questions about your level of knowledge, why he should trust you with his animal, and then some! Eventually though after some repeated visits because Titus decided to become a doggy pincushion with complications (no Damian, I swear those are cacti needles, yes Damian I know what cacti look like!), Damian appeared to get more and more relaxed around you. He even invited you out to a cafe one day to have cinnamon buns together, they were delicious!

 Before you knew it, numbers were exchanged and good morning texts turned into phone calls that would last for hours. There were sometimes though that his end of the phone calls would sound a little weird, but you couldn’t question it because most of the time you two were on the phone you would be training or working out even though we all know you wanted to curl up on the couch and watch Netflix with a lap full of food.

 “Y/N/N!” A deep voice with a very slight accent drug you out of your sleep deprived haze, you had a long night last night and you were bound to have an even longer day today.

 “Ye-ees?” Your response turned into a question as you turned and saw Damian with a single red rose. Raising a brow, you watched as he blushed a bit and cleared his throat. ‘Okay��, you admitted to yourself, ‘this is quite unusual for Damian of all people to be blushing like a school girl.’

 “I was wondering if you would accompany me on a date, tonight?” He held the rose out to you as a sign of good faith, smiling slightly and blushing harder when you squealed and took it. 

 “Of course! Oh!” You stopped to smell the rose, thankfully it wasn’t overwhelming and it wasn’t pollinated so you didn’t sneeze like no tomorrow! “Of course I’ll go on a date with you? What should I wear?”

 After about three hours of nothing but pure panic, your curling iron toting best friend came to your rescue to help you get ready. They knew what you needed, and boy did they set out to AMAZE! And amaze they did, your date with Damian went so well that you soon went on a second, then a third and a fourth. Before you knew it your quiet yet outspoken and arrogant interest had asked you out, in the shyest way. His dating proposal as he had called it came in the form of a Y/F/D pup. So tiny and full of wiggles!

 You swore he would forever hold your heart the second he set the pup in your arms, tears overwhelming you from the cuteness of the pup and him admitting his feelings. You didn’t know what to do with yourself until you were pulled into a warm chest. He smelt like sandalwood, eucalyptus and a slight tinge of musk that could only be described as him. 

 It took a year or two for him to tell you that he was Robin, and suddenly a lot more had begun to make sense to you. Like how he always came home with split knuckles or random blood stains on clothes that shouldn’t have blood stains. You couldn’t get mad at him, you honestly couldn’t because you were hiding an even bigger secret from him. What your loving boyfriend did not know about you, was that you were a meta, and you were a member of a secret task force called STARS. You weren’t exactly hero’s, but you weren’t exactly villain’s either. 

 You did what had to be done, no matter the cost. Or at least that’s the way it was before you got involved with Dami. You caught yourself hesitating more on missions disguised as visits to home. It wasn’t until one ever fateful night that Damian had found out, and good lord he was furious with you. Even going so far as to swear at you in Arabic, his anger making him revert to his mother tongue.

  “Damian! Damian, stop!” You cried out before his rapidly approaching form, you held a portal open before you and if he got any closer you would have to close it. Once you saw the anger on his face and in his eyes, you bit your tongue and quickly closed it. 

 “Explain yourself, now, Y/N.” His tone left no room for nonsense and he had made it clear he wanted the truth and now.

 “I know I haven’t been exactly honest, but I haven’t had a choice Dami. I couldn’t get you on STAR’s radar any more than what you already were! They came after me when I was a child, I had shown these, abilities.” You spat the word out like it was a curse. In a way, it was. “I was given these abilities at the cost of my childhood. They made me learn witchcraft, chaos magics, teleportation...” You went on to explain what had happened and just how much it had cost you. It cost you more than everything, it cost you the meaning of living until you had met Damian. 

 He had stayed silently stewing the whole time until you had shown him your hand, glowing a soft grey color as you let him see the real you. The you that was cursed with a burden of knowledge that no other should have. 

 “The mission.” You started, clearing your throat. “The mission was to prevent someone from waking the warlock beneath Gotham, and the mission was a success. I didn’t know that the Bat and his family would be in on it either, Dami, otherwise I would have told you. I would have told you everything. I swear.”

 He looked into your E/C orbs for a moment, shaking his head and pulling you into a hug. “Here I was worried about having to teach you to defend yourself.”

 Smiling to yourself, you hugged him back, enjoying the feel of his body against yours. There were no words that could express how you felt in this moment, but you thanked every witch and deity before you for not letting you down.

A/N: Whew! Sorry that was so long and all over the place folks! Pain meds and muscle relaxers tend do to that to ya! Let me know what you think and please, if I messed something up please tell me in a polite manner otherwise I will probably ignore it!

Word count: 1494

[xiufaery]

Stitches ↠ five

svt gang au warnings: mentions of death, a bit of angst

masterlist

CHAPTER FIVE: SAFE, SAFER, SAFEST

For a whole minute, all Naeun could do was stare at Mingyu in disbelief. “I- you…” she tried to speak. “…What did you say?” “Will you go out with me?” Mingyu repeated nonchalantly, as though it was the easiest question in the world.

And if he were in literally any other profession, it would be. However, as much as she started to like him, his life was a very dangerous one. Hell, their very first meeting involved her saving his life after he had been stabbed! “No,” Naeun finally replied as firmly as she could. Mingyu was clearly unprepared for that answer. “Why? I thought we actually got closer the past few days.” “We did,” she admitted. “Which was a mistake. You’re in a fucking gang, Mingyu. Just a few minutes ago you said that someone might target me because I helped you, what do you think will happen if we’ll start dating?” “I’ll protect you,” Mingyu tried to reassure her. “Why do you think I walked you to work and back today? I won’t let anybody hurt you.” “No one will have any reason to hurt me in the first place, if we’re nothing but strangers.” Mingyu remained silent. Trying to put an end to this conversation, she opened the door to her apartment and was about to step inside, when Mingyu grabbed her arm. “Wait,” he said. “Just answer one question. Please.” Naeun let out a sigh. “What is it?” “Do you like me?” Naeun sputtered. “What kind of question—” “I need to know,” he insisted. “If I was just a normal person, if we met under normal circumstances, would you have liked me? Would you have dated me?” “Yes,” Naeun said softly. “As annoying as you are…if it weren’t for the danger, I would have said yes.” Mingyu nodded, letting her go. “Then give me a chance to prove that I can protect you.” “Mingyu—” “One chance, Naeun,” he cut her off. “I really do think there’s someone who saw us, one of our rivals. Just give me a few weeks to make sure you’re safe.” “And after that?” “After that, I’ll be gone,” Mingyu promised. “If you don’t want me in your life, then I’ll never bother you again. But for now, forget about the dating thing. Let’s just be friends.” Naeun considered his offer, her lips pursed and eyebrows furrowed. She had a feeling that she was going to regret this. “Fine,” she agreed. “Let’s be friends, for now.” Mingyu instantly relaxed. “Great! So, text me tomorrow before work, I��ll walk with you.” “Isn’t it too much trouble to go everywhere with me?” He shook his head. “I actually like hanging out with you, even if it’s just for fifteen minutes. And since Seungcheol won’t let me out on missions yet, I have nothing better to do.” “Alright, so I guess I’ll just send you my schedule,” she realized that she was just standing with her door open, halfway inside her apartment. “Do you want to come in?” “Really?” Mingyu raised his eyebrows in surprise. “I didn’t think you’d want me in your house.” “We’re friends now, right?” she said. “We can do friend stuff, have a movie night. And maybe eat tons of food since I haven’t eaten at all today.” He grinned. “It’s a date.” “No, it’s not.”

↠ ↠ ↠ ↠ ↠

Naeun came to work the next day with a smile on her face.

Her and Mingyu spent the previous afternoon watching movies and making fun of the cliché scenes, not worrying about a thing. It was nice to stop worrying about everything for once, and to just act like friends. Although the thought of this being only temporary kept nagging at her, she did her best to push it to the back of her mind for now.

“Good morning,” she greeted Yeonsoo, who got in a minute after her. “You’re in a good mood today,” he observed. “Let’s hope it stays that way, I have a feeling it’s going to be a long day.” Naeun rolled her eyes. “And I thought that I was pessimistic,” she said. “By the way, where’s Sejeong?” “She’s coming in late, some kind of family emergency or something.” “So it’s just us and Yujin for now?” she asked. “We’ll make it work, don’t worry.”

The day went by slowly, with only a few people coming in to the ER, most with a broken bone or a high fever. The nurses took care of them quickly and efficiently, while also checking up on the hospitalized patients. “Hello, Mr. Lee,” Naeun entered the room, checking the patient’s chart. “How are you feeling?” “Naeun, it’s good to see you,” the elderly man smiled. “I’m a bit weak and tired, but they said that the surgery went well.” “That’s great!” she said while checking his blood pressure and writing down the numbers. “It seems that your body is accepting the transplant well, you’ll be back home soon.” After doing a quick checkup, she left his room with lifted spirits. It felt good to see someone who was close to death healing and getting better, especially if she helped him. Knowing that she could save someone’s life made all of the long shifts and sleep deprivation worth it.

After finishing her rounds, she headed towards the reception to see if any new patients came in. Yeonsoo, who was already standing there and chatting with another nurse, Yujin, waved her over. “Naeun, are you busy?” he asked. “I just finished my rounds,” she replied. “What’s up?” “The patient in 218 wants to talk to you.” “Me?” her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Yujin was the one who took care of the patient, and she had never had any interaction with him. “Why?” Yujin shrugged. “I don’t know,” he said. “He said it was urgent, but he won’t tell me what it is.” “Alright…” she said, unsure. “I’ll go there right now.”

↠ ↠ ↠ ↠ ↠

The moment she opened the door to room 218 and saw who was inside, she was tempted to turn around and leave. Unfortunately, her body chose this moment to freeze, making her stand rooted in the doorway, staring at the man in shock. What was he doing here, so far from home? How did he know she was there? And why, for the love of god, couldn’t he keep one goddamn promise?

“Hi, Naeun,” he at least had the decency to look guilty. “Long time no see.” His words broke her out of the shock. “What the hell, Hyunwoo?” “I know, I promised to never get you involved—” “So what are you doing here?” Hyunwoo sighed, lifting his arm which had a cast around it. “I got into a fight. I guess I passed out, so someone brought me here.” Naeun closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose, trying to stay calm. “Who did you manage to piss off this time?” “Well, it’s a funny story…” he smiled sheepishly. “Seventeen.” “SEVENTEEN?” she burst out. “What’s wrong with you? Do you have a death wish?” “Do you?” She paused. “What are you talking about?” “I know, Naeun,” he told her. “One of my men saw you and Kim Mingyu together. You’ve been helping him?” “He was injured and needed help,” she said. “I can’t exactly turn down a patient.” “No, but you can tell him to stay away from you after you’re done. Don’t you know how dangerous it is? Is that not why you left us…left me?” Naeun’s expression hardened. “I left because you got my parents killed.” “Look, Naeun, I’m sorry.” Hyunwoo didn’t look the least bit sorry. “You know that it’s part of the job, that’s what you signed up for when we started dating—” “Are you serious?” she snapped. “You promised to protect us! You said that you wouldn’t let anyone get anywhere near them, and then you used them as bait!” “We all lost someone that day,” he yelled back. “I lost twenty men in one night!” “They knew what they were doing,” she told him. “My parents didn’t know about any of this. They didn’t stand a chance.” Hyunwoo sighed. “So, this is your solution? Leaving me, running off to the other side of the country? Joining another gang?” “Hyunwoo, did you honestly expect me to stay with you after what you did?” she asked. “You promised to protect me and my parents, and you failed. You promised to never contact me again, and you broke that promise, too. You have done nothing but hold me back and cause me pain, and I will never go back to that.” With that, she turned around and left. However, just before she closed the door, she threw one last sentence over her shoulder. “At least Mingyu never lied to me.”

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Naeun stormed off, desperate to find a quiet place where she could calm down. Why is it that gang members just keep finding their way into her life? Is she a magnet for trouble or something? “Naeun!” she heard someone calling for her. “Hey, Naeun, wait!” She stopped so suddenly that the person crashed into her. “Careful,” she recognized Sejeong’s voice, but didn’t turn to face her. “Are you alright?” “I’m fine,” her voice was quiet. “Don’t worry.” Sejeong grabbed her shoulders and turned her around. “Of course I’m going to worry when you cry, silly.” Naeun raised her hand to wipe her cheek, realizing it was wet. “I’m okay, really. I, uh, met my ex. Brought up bad memories.” “The one who told you to choose between him and your career?” Sejeong asked softly, rubbing her back. She shook her head. “Another one. We broke up three years ago, before I moved to Seoul. He…” she choked up. “He ruined my life. Seeing him again is like a nightmare…” She burst out in tears. Sejeong immediately pulled her into a hug, whispering reassurances into her ear. “It’s going to be alright,” she said. “He can’t hurt you anymore.” Sejeong didn’t let her go until her sobs quieted and turned into sniffles. Naeun wiped the remaining tears from her eyes. She probably looked like a mess, with a red face and tear streaks on her cheeks, but crying and letting out her feelings had lifted the weight off her chest and allowed her to breathe. “Naeun, I want you to know that I won’t let him hurt you,” Sejeong said seriously. “Mingyu won’t let him hurt you.”

Mingyu.

Funny how those six words made her feel safer than she ever felt before.

[winterromanov]

we will grow taller together - bucky x reader

PART ONE - THE GENTLE HUM OF EXISTENTIAL DREAD

parts: zero

Pairing: bucky barnes x reader

Extract: “No. No, what I’m saying is, he needs—they both need—someone. He needs someone to help look after Clover while they both get their lives back on track.” Steve pauses, looking you straight in the eyes. “Someone like you.”

Genre: romance, nanny x single father!AU

Taglist: @blindedbyyourgrace17 @verygraphicink @igotkatiepowers @welcome-to-my-studylife (taglist still open, reply/message to be tagged)

PART ONE

“Next please!”

The queue shuffles along until your face-to-face with yet another tired-looking college student, purple eye-bags visible underneath a pair of circular rimmed glasses. It’s fall dead week and if most of your customers are anything to go by, it certainly lives up to its name. Every single one of the tables spread out on the main floor of Vormir Coffee has been crammed with sleep-deprived teenagers and textbooks, meaning you and your colleagues have been swept off your feet with orders for caffeine products refills. You expect the rush to continue over the next few days as revision turns into actual mid-terms—as is tradition, you’ll be offering free chocolate muffins throughout the week by the door, because nothing heals the pain of a shitty Econ paper like chocolate muffins do.

Yet…as you look in the near-dead, distant eyes of your latest customer, you feel a pang of jealousy deep within your chest. While you’re pouring coffee into refillable mugs and forcing your best service smile (which is a difficult feat nine hours in to a ten hour shift) they’re reading and learning and absorbing.

You miss learning. God, you miss learning, even the terrible impossible chaos of one exam after another and deadlines piling up around you like sandbags. But being, y’know, poor, means there’s not much you can do about your grad school dreams, even if you do spend your free hours searching the internet for outlandish scholarships and funding schemes.

So. For now, it’s coffee. Potentially forever if you want to continue to eat and have electricity, which is just about all you can afford right now. And the occasional lipstick if you’re feeling particularly extravagant.

“What can I get you?” you ask the student, whose scruffy brown hair doesn’t look like it’s been washed in a few days. Oh well. Desperate times require desperate measures. At least you’re not his roommate. He grunts for an inevitable espresso and fishes round his wallet for some spare dollars while you get to work. Moments later you offer him the finished product and he drops the exact change into your hand, skulking away to a table without another word. Well, you’ll forgive a lack of manners during one of the most surreal weeks in the academic year.

“Hey, (Y/N).”

On the announcement of your name your glance flicks back to the remainders of the gradually quietening queue, and your face subconsciously breaks out into a grin when you finally see a customer that doesn’t look like a vacant zombie.

Steve Rogers grins back at you. He’s wearing a beanie over his blonde hair and a warm winter jacket—the temperature was freezing when you practically slid from the subway to work this morning and as the day slowly eclipses into evening, the temperature is falling back down with it. His cheeks are flushed from coming into the warm.

“Hey Steve!” you greet him cheerfully, because seeing an old friend is the perfect way to end a tiring shift. “How are you? How’s Natasha?”

Steve dips his head bashfully, like he always does when he’s asked about himself or his girlfriend. “We’re both great, thanks. What about you? It’s been a while.”

You gesture around you as an answer. Taking all the shifts you possibly can means you probably spend more time in Vormir than your own apartment. From what you can recall Steve has been back in the States for a few weeks after his most recent tour of Afghanistan; him or Natasha keep dropping you invites here and there, but you’ve been working or too dog-tired to accept them. It kind of makes you sad, as you watch your social circle shrink, but being an adult is the worst and staying alive is reasonably important to you.

“That bad, huh?” Steve asks sympathetically. You nod back, dramatically rolling your eyes.

“That bad. Always that bad, Rogers. I’m a slave to consumerism, but don’t let my boss know that.”

Steve laughs, leaning onto the counter. “I actually… (Y/N), when do you finish up here? Do you want get a drink? I’ve just got something I wanted to run by you.”

You narrow your eyes with curiosity. The clock that ticks mercilessly above the door reads six forty-two, so you’ve got less than twenty minutes left of your shift, and the look on Steve’s face is too intriguing to turn down just so you can rush home, open a bottle of cheap white wine and watch Stranger Things on Netflix. Even if you are up to the season three finale.

“I clock off at seven,” you reveal, but you nudge your head in the direction of the remaining customers who are starting to get annoyed at the hold-up. “Grab a seat. I actually have to do my job for a while longer and I’d rather not get fired because you’re distracting me.”

Steve holds his hands up in mock surrender and slowly backs away from the counter, allowing your next customer to slide into his position. You watch as he drops into a two-seater by the window, scrolling through his iPhone, a muted grin tugging at his lips.

-

Steve’s favourite bar is a short walk across town, the kind that is warm and dark and a little bit retro. You’ve been to Endgame before with him and Natasha, and you’d all split quarters so you could play ABBA songs on the Jukebox by the entrance. Right now it’s playing Go Your Own Way by Fleetwood Mac, so it seems today’s patrons have taste.

You grab one of the more private booths through the back while he gets the drinks. You’ve not seen your phone since your lunch break so you take the spare seconds to scroll through your social media—less than an hour ago Natasha’s posted a photo to Instagram, both her and Steve making stupid faces in the living room of the apartment they share. It’s captioned who do I have to kill to make sure you’re not deployed again?

Your heart melts a little. Steve and Nat. Nat and Steve. Two people who have been together for longer than you’ve known them, and they just work so fucking well, two halves of the same coin and all that. Your thumb hovers over the like button for a moment before clicking it, because you’ve never had someone in your life like that. You’ve not found the other half of your coin.

Most days you’re too exhausted to really think about it. But sometimes…something will click in the back of your brain and it dawns on you like an avalanche that this might be your life forever. You’ll be serving coffee forever. You’ll be on your own forever.

Fortunately Steve slides into the seat opposite before you can go into a full-on existential crisis, but you sure as hell know that’s what will inevitably cross your mind when you’re stuck staring at the cracked ceiling of your apartment in bed tonight.

Steve’s smile is concerned as he pushes a desperado in your direction. “You look troubled.”

“When am I not?” you say with a shrug, taking a sip of your drink. The alcohol burns in your empty stomach. You haven’t eaten since lunch—maybe liquor isn’t the best idea, after all. “Anyway. As much as I love seeing you, Rogers, this isn’t just a friendly drop-by is it?”

Steve is drinking some generic American beer. He wipes his lip before speaking. “Yeah. Like I said. There was something I thought I’d run by you.”

“Ominous.” You wiggle your eyebrows. “Are you going to spend the next half an hour or so pushing a pyramid scheme you swear isn’t a pyramid scheme? Because I really didn’t think that was your style.”

“No. Not a pyramid scheme.” He shakes his head in mild disbelief, probably wondering why he’s still friends with you. “It’s more…do you remember my friend? James?” When you look back blankly, he elaborates. “Bucky. Guy I used to go to school with. Dark hair. Lost his arm in Afghan about a decade ago…”

“Oh! Oh. Bucky Barnes. James Barnes.” You feel kind of bad that the arm was what made it click, but you do remember a quiet, well-mannered guy standing in the background of a few of Steve and/or Nat’s social events over the last few years. You’ve never been formally introduced but Steve talks about him every so often, just casual mentions in conversation, nothing detailed. They’d grown up together, trained together, but their career paths parted after Bucky’s car nicked an IED on the outskirts of Kabul. Truly horrifying. “Yeah. Sure. I remember him. What about him?”

Steve grimaces. “Well, it’s a bit…complex, to explain, so I’ll just go straight into it. About seven years ago he met a girl, she got pregnant, they had a daughter.”

“Oh! I never knew he had any kids.”

“Yeah. Clover. She’s six now. Way too smart for her age, really mischievous—doing crazy things like sending vegetables in the post to the grandparents she doesn’t like and reading fucking Frankenstein. Big Mary Shelley fan, to Buck’s sheer delight. Awesome kid.”

You smirk, not sure what any of this has to do with you, but little Clover sounds exactly how you were at her age. “She does sound pretty awesome.”

“But Connie, her mom…she passed away just over a year ago in a really awful car wreck.” Steve’s face falls into a look of heartbreak, empathetic as always. “Her and Bucky haven’t been together for years but they shared custody of Clove, Connie having her a lot of the time.”

You feel something shift in your chest, like shards of glass are pressing in between your ribs. Real loss stories have always been pretty hard for you to digest, regardless of who they belong to. You think about death a lot in, like, an abstract and unreachable kind of way. You think it gives you size, an awareness of your place in the world, the universe. But that’s your own death. You’re kind of comfortable with that one day you will cease to exist. It’s just the people that you care about you fear for. And everybody cares about somebody.

“God, that’s awful, Steve,” you murmur, eyes softening. “Is he looking after her on his own now?”

Steve nods, biting his lip. “Yeah. And he’s not doing too great, (Y/N). It’s not my place to go into details about what goes on in his head, but nobody gets over the trauma he went through and goes back to before. And the loss of Connie and suddenly becoming Clover’s only parent, and her trauma, as well as trying to hold down a full-time job…like Jesus, I’m surprised he can even get up in the morning. Sometimes he doesn’t.”

You ache for Steve’s oldest friend as is only natural, but you’re still at a loss as to where this involves you. You rest your chin in your hands, looking at Steve intently. “It sounds like he’s going through a tough time. I’m really sorry. But is this…any of my business? Because you can always confide in me about things that are on your mind, but this sounds really personal.”

“No. No, what I’m saying is, he needs—they both need—someone. He needs someone to help look after Clover while they both get their lives back on track.” Steve pauses, looking you straight in the eyes. “Someone like you.”

The laugh that erupts from your chest is involuntary, but Steve’s expression is still completely serious. Is he really suggesting what you think he’s suggesting? “What? You’re asking me to be a nanny?”

“I suppose you could call it that.” When you stare at him with disbelief, he rolls his shoulders. “(Y/N). Why is this such an eccentric idea? You hate your job. Buck has a spare room at his place which, no offense, is way nicer than your apartment. You’re great with kids, you’re funny, you’re smart…and you’ve already said you think Clover sounds like an awesome kid. You two would get on great.”

“That’s all irrelevant considering a, I’m not a nanny and have no experience looking after a child in that close and intense an environment. And b, Steve, this is an eccentric idea. Other than the scraps you’ve given me I know absolutely nothing about James, and what the hell does he know about me?” When Steve’s face looks a little guilty, you roll your eyes. “Oh my god. Steve. James hasn’t even said he wants a nanny has he? He doesn’t even know you’re asking me this.”

“This would be so good for him,” Steve half-pleads, puppy dog eyes engaged, “He’s fussy about strangers and Clover, but he knows you through me. He’ll trust my judgement.”

“Steve. You can’t just go making decisions like that! This is insane.”

(Steve has a habit of thinking he knows what’s best, for himself or other people, and rampaging down that path in the pursuit of a happy ending. Sometimes people don’t need his version of a happy ending.)

Steve eventually relents, relaxing back in his seat. He’s forgotten you’re not usually one for blindly going along with one of his Heroic Schemes, preferring a more idealistic approach. “Okay. Yeah. I’ll discuss it with him first. But I think you should come along when I do that.”

“Steve.”

“It doesn’t have to mean anything, but I think you should meet them both properly. You could be a good friend to him either way. It wouldn’t hurt, (Y/N). Maybe it would be good for you too.”

God, you’re way too done for this shit, your legs aching from a day of being constantly on your feet and dead inside from getting up at six this morning. Steve is not the kind of guy to give up on something he’s clearly passionate about in his quest for the greater good, and this point it is just easier to agree to his requests. Even though his idea is way too bizarre for anyone normal to actually accept.

Being a live-in nanny for a guy you barely know and his daughter, both of whom have just lost someone extremely significant in their lives? And him being totally unaware that his best friend is proposing a job he has no authority to give? Yeah, fuck that.

Steve is right about one thing, though. You do really, really hate your horrible job.

When you reluctantly nod, and Steve grins, you jab a finger in his direction. “Like you said. It means nothing. This is weird as hell, but you’re super annoying when you don’t get your own way, and I’m totally allowing you to receive all the backlash when it backfires.”

“I think I can deal with that.” He gestures at your empty bottle. “Want another drink?”

The alcohol has made your body a little lighter, but your stomach growls loudly in argument. Instead, you clamp your hands on the table. “No, but you can buy me a pizza. It’s the least you can do for me, weirdo.”

Steve raises an eyebrow, used to your directness. “Pizza it is, then.”

Okay, so maybe Steve Rogers is the most annoying person in the world, and maybe his aggressive selflessness in the hope of doing right for his friends will eventually be his downfall, but he’s usually a pretty nice guy. You sometimes forget that you’re lucky to have him.