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knackfandomarchive · 2 months

Note

could i ask for some lucas headcanons bc all of the ones you've posted so far are really cute lmao (he is my son)

Oh Bestie, you sweet-talker, you!

Umm... I'm so sorry; I had already talked about most of these before; I don't have much and only have like 15k words of prose across all my documents. I'm bringing these ideas up again mainly for context and in case some readers haven't seen them yet. This is sort of like an overview for the first segment of my story, and also some brief character analyses of certain scenes. I'm also not sure what would spoil my story or not.

I forgot how English works (and it's my only language).

Also this is depressing AF... I tried to put all the doom and gloom into this first part, so if anyone reading this wants to skip to the part that says, "I avoid giving Lucas any diagnosis..." then be my guest. It's. Half the post, tho.

And I'll post the art separately tomorrow, so people won't have to read the depressing stuff to see it.

With that, I can shakily point to a few foundational scenes I over-analyzed. Especially this one:

Where to start...

As we may recall in the first game, the Doctor complains to Ryder that it was easier to take care of Lucas when he was younger, and, "now he wants to know How and Why and debate everything. It's really quite trying at times."

This just sounds like puberty to me. Dad agreed; the Doctor probably received Lucas at a young, easy-to-please age and got used to that lifestyle. But as Lucas grew older, taking more independence, and forming his own opinions - normal development stuff - this resulted in conflict - the form of which I'm still unsure of.

So, I have Lucas lose his mom around eight years old. It's that vulnerable spot where he's old enough to remember her well, and young enough that he has little in the way of coping mechanisms. And while puberty is right around the corner, it gives the Doctor some time to know him before then.

Another thing to add, my Dad mentioned something Lucas said while reaching for his locket:

We're taking a literal approach to this. Not only is this device the last thing he has left of his mother, it's also the only thing he has left of his old life; all of his belongings had been destroyed or lost. We discussed possible causes, and I prefer something horrible and yet mundane. Not super newsworthy outside of his hometown. A fire, maybe?

Lucas needed a new home. And his father was never mentioned, which could mean anything (I haven't gotten around to that). In any case, they were not in the picture by this time. Next of kin would be Ryder or other family members.

We can recall Ryder in a later scene asking if Lucas wonders why the Doctor takes care of him, rather than Ryder doing so. Ryder explains his own unavailability as being very busy. I take this to mean two-fold: he was the only alternative when it came to raising Lucas, and it wasn't due to his capability to parent. So, if Lucas had other blood relatives, they never stepped up. Naturally, this results in Lucas feeling unwanted.

So many characters I need to get right... Lucas lost his mom, and Ryder lost his sister. Ryder may have thought himself and his life situation too unstable. Like he couldn't afford the responsibility on top of the grief and whatever else he had going on. Lucas stays with him for only as long as it takes to arrange a plan with the Doctor. I think Ryder might have some mental troubles of his own that would make raising a child difficult. But the Doctor isn't much better on that front.

Doctor Vargas seems to have had a lingering emotional wound since Charlotte disappeared, and based on vibes was likely a lonely, somewhat reserved man. But his living situation is the most stable, and he has kept it together for so long. And if he ever imagined having children, this would fill that need. So the arrangement - as my Dad suggested, and as I will have Ryder suggest - is a two birds, one stone kind of deal. The hope is that Doc and Lucas would help each other get better, and not worse.

Lucas is taken to the Doctor's Mansion, where Ryder will say goodbye. I have Ryder keep a stoic demeanor; he's trying to stay strong for Lucas. Even holding his breath to keep it from shuddering when they hug. But Lucas really could have benefitted from a more vulnerable moment with him, instead. Ryder is the one who gives Lucas the locket as a parting gift. Lucas begs him not to go, but Ryder can only say he's sorry.

I don't know the boy's educational situation exactly, but after that, his grades drop, he becomes more withdrawn, and his friends, if he has any, don't know how to help him. What are the chances they're mainly fair-weather friends, who go play with someone else when Lucas starts being a bummer? At least I haven't invented bullies to harass him on top of this. Actually, there's a chance that Lucas would be the bully, but I haven't decided.

Have I mentioned Lucas crying at night? He can just about gloomily keep it together during the day, but at night, when he's alone with his thoughts, he falls apart, and his crying soon wakes up the Doctor. Losing his mother and then feeling abandoned by his uncle and other relatives, it's a major blow to the self-esteem. And when his whole world is turned upside down in one fell swoop, it leaves him with a peculiar feeling.

Here is where I point out the next aspect:

Right here, this could have been the end of Lucas. And the Doctor can only watch him go. If I look at it from a more thematic view, Lucas's loss is so devastating to him that he'll clutch the memory of his mother and what he had before she died, at the expense of living himself.

So we have a semi-suicidal eight-year-old living with an older scientist and anyone else who lives in the same building. Scientists and their families from all over the world! I still don't know how the Doctor is going to take care of him. Lucas when he's older is grateful to the Doctor for taking him in, but doesn't seem to me to think of him as a father figure (but perhaps I just forgot something). And my grasp on the Doctor's character is extremely flimsy, despite him virtually being the protagonist of the first game.

I'm not sure how familiar Lucas is with Doctor Vargas. The boy's mom was a colleague, and Ryder trusts the Doctor a great deal, so at least they're not strangers. But Little Lucas might not have paid much attention to the Doctor. Maybe they played peek-a-boo a time or two. I can imagine a dark-haired toddler running under tables at company picnics or something. Doc might have showed him a couple neat gadgets or gifted him some. I dunno yet. What could be the KNACK-equivalent of a Game Boy?

During Lucas's crying spells, I kind of have the Doctor treat him like he's physically sick. Hold him while he cries, put a hand on his shoulder while he throws up, that sort of thing. Uhh, soup - in a big ol' thermos. Gotta stay hydrated and replenish those electrolytes.

Lucas crying and the Doctor consoling him is a regular occurrence for maybe a week or two, and the Doctor can't hide his exhaustion well. Still working out the details, but essentially Lucas doesn't really stop crying after that, he's just quieter about it and lies about it and Doctor Vargas doesn't press the issue. But the Doctor does worry. Lucas seems exhausted all the time, and when he's not hunched over and listless, or politely playing along with whatever to satisfy the grown-ups, he's throwing tantrums about the pointlessness of homework and anything else he doesn't want to do. I made that up. Sometimes he does still find joy in some things, and while it's temporary, it gives Doctor Vargas some hope.

The Doctor's thoughts, as they often do, turn to Charlotte, and how he felt after losing her. And what happened on that fateful day.

Lucas has a well-known love of puzzles. Because I want him to. And especially puzzles in video games. And what is science but a series of puzzles?

Before his mother's passing, I imagine Lucas enjoyed school and gained some reputation among his peers for being a nerdy kid and very smart. Naturally this would result in some peers getting close to him to improve their academic metrics or because they have similar interests. Maybe he has an interest in - the foundational stuff a seven-to-eight-year-old learns about - physics. I imagine he found his mommy's work very interesting and would ask her a lot of questions, sometimes rehashing the same ideas again and again (as my sibling did when they were little).

After she's gone, he still loves puzzles, but much like anything else, the experience of playing with them is tinged with regret. At the Doctor's place, I'm sure there are some other children and young folk living there, too, but I don't know how Lucas feels about them. I have to make so many characters...

I think Lucas would piece together some jigsaw puzzles in the lounge areas. And also slurp up much of the hot cocoa during winter time, but I digress.

Hmm. I need him to accumulate a small collection of toys, but I'm not sure yet who gives them to him and when. If he receives them all too soon and from strangers (scientists who find him endearing), he might feel sour about being pitied. At the same time, if he had a lot of toys before the fire, he'll sure miss their absence. Anyway, some things like: a small chess set, from which he'll lose some pieces, sidewalk chalk, a new gaming device with Tetris and a few other games on it, jump rope, a skateboard (actually a longboard), a Rubik's Cube, and some plushies. I want him to get the device and a plushy or two fairly quickly.

He mainly plays with the gaming device, and while it fills time and is entertaining, it does not fill the void. Still, the Doctor taps his shoulder one day.

"So. I heard you like puzzles?" Said more like a statement than a question.

Lucas doesn't fully understand the situation at first, on the order of a few hours or a day or so, when the Doctor shows him the orb. Doc tries to have a heart-to-heart moment with Lucas, but what the Doctor *says* reads like Chekhov's plasma cannon and I don't have the 'payoff' for that lined up, so I might change it.

But once it clicks for Lucas, it's like a switch is flipped. He smiles more and starts getting genuinely excited about things again. It helps that I had a pipe-dream of making Knack's puzzle a mini-game, so Lucas finds it fun. I'll want to add more to it, probably, depending on how I interpret Knack. I also have a headcanon that Knack's orb resembles a plasma globe in some tactile characteristic; Lucas likes to touch or hold it at every opportunity because it vaguely feels like something is going on in there. It's just so cool! The Doctor may or may not appreciate the novelty.

So it's like, Knack provides Lucas an opportunity to climb to his feet again. More indirectly than the screenshot, though.

I apparently got someone's game-play video confused for a trailer, and misinterpreted the YouTuber's voice as Lucas's voice, so one version of this post mentioned Knack having an incidental role of 'guardian' to Lucas. I still might want to play with that, though.

Anyway, if you're curious as to why Lucas finds the orb so much more satisfying than other puzzles, it's because of the angst. I had initially intended for Lucas to work on the project as something to distract him, much like any other puzzle, give him something to look forward to, and help him bond with Doctor Vargas. The Doctor himself hopes it can help the both of them move on from their losses, and hopes it can help him teach Lucas a thing or two.

But, somehow surprising even to me, Lucas seems to have taken it upon himself to solve this particular puzzle as a measure of value. If he can play a big part in solving it, and contribute to a grown-up scientific achievement, then he's worth all the trouble, right? Then he'll actually amount to something and be worth loving.

... I'm not sure what to say next except that I want to bonk him on the head with a paper towel roll and tell him he's being silly. And then give him a big hug.

At least he lets himself be happy again. In fact, his educational situation might flip from being too aloof to being too distracted. Doodling odd symbols in the margins of his homework and tapping his feet when he should be studying.

He still cries at night sometimes, though. Umm... trying to rack my brain here...

I avoid giving Lucas any diagnosis. Is this a bad idea? Would it be preferred I name his issues, and do research on them?

I kinda just make stuff up.

Okay, switching gears now. This part is more scattered because I don't know how to string the ideas together.

I think I mentioned the Doctor taking Lucas to places like museums and carnivals and aquariums.

Lucas might be prone to jealousy, at least when he is young, and becomes slightly possessive over the orb. This doesn't come up much beyond pressing his lips together, avoiding eye contact, and nursing a bitter feeling when the Doctor improves some experimental hardware without Lucas's prior knowledge. Lucas wonders if the Doctor had continued solving parts without him. Not sure if I should drop it.

Lucas is about ten years old by the time Knack is Manifested. I picked ten years old just 'cause that's about two years of working on the puzzle, enough time to build that machine. I don't want it to take too long or short because the puzzle I'm going with currently makes the Doctor look a bit stupid.

I have Lucas as twelve years old when the first game starts, because that's about middle-school age where the puberty does the things. And about 16 or so in the sequel, trying to balance the moved-out thing with the uncharacteristically immature behavior.

Also because Ava seems about 16 and Dad said that number makes sense for her role as a youth leader, and Ava and Lucas seem like peers. Man, they really flopped on the framing for the scene in this shot! I can hardly see Lucas at all with low brightness. Maybe it's different when you play it yourself.

Dad also told me something that I interpreted to mean most media is really bad at establishing ages. So I'm not sure what to do with that.

Anyway, ten years old.

I'm still not sure how, after the excitement of success subsides, Lucas will initially react to the creature made of stone. His reaction will probably depend on his background. Early drafts have him fed fairy tales that paint goblins unfavorably. And since the creature resembles a goblin in some aspects, Lucas freaks himself out or intimidates the little guy. But these drafts felt silly or off, because the creature is all smiles when he wakes up, and we know he's friendly. Also the Doctor just stands there. So I'll come up with something else, probably.

Regarding Knack's relationship with Lucas: When I see other people describe their relationship as sibling-like (a headcanon), they tend to position Knack as the elder. I may need to double-check; the fandom is pretty small and I haven't read much of the fanfictions. Another headcanon I saw a couple times is that Knack had been alive/conscious a long, long time ago.

But recently someone told me they interpret Lucas as the elder!

My interpretation is that Lucas steps up to that particular plate, first.

My idea goes: before anyone knows for sure that Knack's creature type also includes being a person, Lucas treats him a bit like a toddler and a pet, himself acting as the older brother and sorta babysitter. Still trying to decide if Knack knows he is a person at this stage... It seems like in both games, Lucas tends to talk to him like he's giving him a tutorial.

So I gotta figure out how the Doctor, Lucas, and some other folks turn a sweet little bean into the Knack we all know and love. And how Knack and the Doctor etc, do the same with Lucas.

Lucas is so silly!

I know you saw the one about the first night, Bestie [D;? but I'm not sure how to explain it concisely here. A lot of these I feel would be best shown in a comic series.

There is very much a theme of reciprocation in my story. That might be the wrong word. I'm thinking of familial affection. Lucas just doesn't get enough, and so, doing unto others as he would want to be treated, offers attention to Knack. What to list as examples... Reading him stories, nuzzling, very simple dancing. Probably more but I am my brain is made of Swiss cheese.

I did mention Knack being a sleepy baby on here at first, but I don't think I mentioned that Lucas worries if he's dying or something. It's like if you brought home a baby creature, but had no idea what it eats or needs to live, and then it acts groggier and less responsive, and can barely hold its head up... The Doctor kind of scoffs and says it's highly unlikely (not in a mean way), possibly thinking of Knack more like a device. But even if the Doctor is confident, Lucas isn't convinced. And Baby Knack doesn't know how to ask for what he needs, so he kind of furrows his brow and squints and makes little grumbling noises and like. I'm not sure how to describe it. It's like he kneads invisible dough or something? And he frequently glances up at Lucas or the Doctor.

Lucas tries really hard to not-cry and seem reasonable, but he can't help reaching out to pet the little guy's head. The creature responds very favorably, still sleepy. Leading Lucas to bring him into a hug, possibly picking him up. The creature is soothed by this, and after wrapping his arms around Lucas, he promptly falls asleep. Or something idk. Everything is a work in progress.

Knack occupies a weird role at first, and even later on occasion: something sort of like a pet, but not quite. Lucas is primarily the one who initiates the interactions like that, but sometimes the Doctor does as well. Knack himself does not understand until later.

I know it's silly to have Lucas pet him. He's basically a rock, even if he reminds me of a teddy bear sometimes. But look at that face! Lucas can feel warm and fuzzy just knowing that his little puzzle buddy likes him.

I also have Lucas very interested in Knack as a person, like how he's feeling and what he thinks. I think it would be funny if he gets good at reading Knack's body language, but not so good at interpreting his words sometimes. I'm kind of throwing out that scene in 2 where Knack gives Lucas an odd look for presuming what he's thinking and framing it as a 'talk'; if Lucas paid any attention to Knack, he would have done something like that a long time ago. And so I have him *do*: Early on, Lucas talks to the Doctor for Knack, like an untrained interpreter. And sometimes even airs his own grievances as if Knack is 'saying' so.

I mean, I *guess* I could have Lucas be oblivious to Knack's emotional situation unless it suits him, but then like. I dunno. That doesn't fit the little guy I made up so far. What feels more like Lucas?

Lucas sometimes imitates Knack's mannerisms and vice versa. Also expect recycled dialogue. I think Lucas vicariously experiences some adventure through Knack.

I still think Lucas gets swole by playing with Knack all the time.

Later, Knack and Lucas switch big-brother-little-brother roles based on the scene.

(I got this screenie from MoeePlays. The rest of the unwatermarked ones are from FullPlaythroughs.)

You may also see Knack playing the big-brother role while being Little Knack, if I can communicate that well enough. I think it's interesting. And the reverse.

Dad compared the way I describe Knack to Lennie Smalls in "Of Mice and Men", and suggested Lucas could be made somewhat like George. I must say, I hadn't read that story before then. So that was a wild ride! Now George, he's kind of prickly, which Lucas seems to be in the second game, but I'm a little hesitant. Dad also mentioned something about George's dream, and maybe Lucas could have something like that. I think I know what he means, and it's probably a reason I feel stuck in the 'ending' I had written; the dream feels impossible.

Jumping around again; if you were to talk to Lucas about Knack, and Knack was nowhere to be seen, Lucas would probably think of him as Little Knack. I looked too far into Lucas calling Knack "little buddy" at the start, and couldn't remember if Lucas called him something different later. I also interpreted this to mean Knack often hangs out with Lucas as Little Knack, which is supported by a brief shot or two in 1, and the title screen of 2.

Lucas considers Knack to be his achievement on some level. In fact, I consider this to be what he was alluding to in the museum in 2; that "without me, the Doctor would never have known-" how to bring Knack to life. I can imagine a young Lucas, when people are told that the Doctor had solved the puzzle and created Knack, saying quietly or thinking to himself, "*I* made this."

He goes back on that idea later. For Reasons. I might change that also, though. Then again, if I change the story every time I get caught and scraped up in a prickly patch, I wouldn't have much of a story anymore. I wouldn't necessarily say Lucas is naive. He's pretty smart and can sometimes pick up on things, but he can be willfully ignorant. If that doesn't make sense out of context, don't worry.

Changing the subject, Lucas kick-starts Knack's mischievous streak. He kind of teases him? Best example is the GIF I wanted to make but turned into a slideshow. In the garden, Lucas growls in jest at a Little Baby Knack, who reacts ferociously and growls back with rough red lettering, lifting his paws a bit and shifting his weight from foot to foot. Lucas laughs, delighted, and Baby Knack's expression shifts a little into amusement, before the GIF loops and they return to growling.

To clarify, Knack is playing, here. Although it does take him a few moments of fleeing and fawning to realize Oh, you're threatening me as a joke. Two can play at that game! Eventually, Lucas feels that Knack is acting too aggressive for his comfort, and, failing to notice that Knack is mirroring his own body language, worries he'll get a good punch to the gut. Or worse. He tries to de-escalate with the offer of a hug, which allows Baby Knack to play a mean prank.

And at one point I want Lucas to try smuggling Knack to school for the express purpose of scaring the crap out of Lucas's peers. For fun!

Another thing about how I wrote Lucas is that, when he is younger, at least, he isn't all that shy with Knack after like a day or so. I'm not sure how to say what I mean... It's like, Lucas has a tendency to get excited and touch, lightly pull, or grab Knack's arm(s), to get his attention, turn him around, or drag him somewhere. It's also a means of affection. He's gentle about it, but still. He isn't usually so grabby with other kids.

One of the things I considered playing with Knack is whether he might bite a family member when he is a 'baby'. But the more I think about it, the more the answer resounds no, he wouldn't. In one scene I wrote, Knack makes a non-lingual, idle threat (growling at him), but Lucas calls his bluff and takes something from him anyway. Lucas actually scoffs at him, incredulous.

Do not look to Lucas for guidance on how to treat children, animals, or operate heavy machinery.

Umm, what else. I bet Lucas would pass out if someone strokes his hair. First thing that comes to mind is Charlotte experimentally trying motherly things, feeling awkward about it and stopping. Lucas murmers something like, "You can keep going :)" Realizes what he just said, "I mean, if *you* want to," and scratches the back of his neck and looks away.

Along with a grappling hook (or maybe the Doctor gave him that), Ryder gives Lucas a butterfly knife for his twelfth birthday. This sounds very familiar to me, so either I thought about it before, it's practically canon, or someone else had mentioned it and I just can't remember. Or it could be a regular pocket knife.

At some point, to someone else, I have Doc describe Lucas as becoming more responsible since Knack came into his life. But of course, since the Doctor can never let Lucas have anything, he amends it with, "at times."

I also have this screenshot:

What was I going to put down for it...?

I remember seeing a review where someone mentioned this scene, gave an extremely reductive summary of it, and they thought "It plays out like a parody of kids movie/game “you-can-do-itism” but it’s not parodying anything in particular." I was rather miffed about that, to say the least; I thought this scene was a major characterization moment.

Lucas is curious/a scientist.

Knack puts so much faith in the Doctor that he limits himself. He also comes off like a major teacher's pet with his quoting ability.

The Doctor thinks himself so smart like he knows everything without testing it thoroughly. To the point where he has told Knack that he is incapable of something.

Lucas encourages Knack to try new things.

Not sure how to put this, but it comes up again in the Key Confrontation. Could be related to 4. Lucas is skeptical of the Doctor's authority and offers an opposing viewpoint. He prompts Knack to stop viewing the Doctor's words as gospel, at least temporarily. This is why I want Lucas and the Doctor to be/become foils in my story. Lucas sees himself in Knack.

Knack believes in the Doctor, sure. But he also trusts and believes in Lucas.

And one last thing, because I can't escape upsetting topics: there may be some parental favoritism going on between the Doctor and the boys. I loathe the idea, but it slots into my current framework with unfortunate agreement. I had a conversation with Dad about it, and he said, uhh trying to remember... it's a reasonable idea. He spoke of Lucas coming into his own and how it challenges the Doctor's ego, meanwhile Knack does whatever the Doctor says without question.

I don't think Lucas would resent or blame the Doctor's Greatest Creation, but it would impact his self-esteem. I don't know what that looks like yet.

Umm, I hope this was worth the wait; I had a lot of fun! I want to add more but I'm kind of scatter-brained. Also this is 4.6k words apparently.

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arvinsescape · 3 years

Text

Too busy.

A/N: I am so sorry this took a while to get out, but here it is! I hope you all enjoy, it is based off a request that @tomhollandlol sent me and I hope you also enjoy and thanks again for your patience. I did change a couple of things but stuck to the basic concept, I hope you don’t mind 💕

Request: Angst one shot, they have 2 kids together, different scenarios, he never pays attention and does something else and is always too busy.

Warnings: Bit of swearing, mentions of sex.

W/C: 4.2K

This last six months had been the hardest she’d ever had to go through, in her entire six years of marriage to Tom, this had been the hardest. Having two kids on top of that didn’t make it any easier, she felt alone, more alone than she had in her life, she was bringing up two children, seemingly on her own. Their eldest was almost four and their youngest was nine months old and teething, which meant she cried a lot.

Tom had been there for most of their journey, he shared the work load and it made life easier but this last six months haven’t ben the case. He became busier, he had two projects going at once and whilst she would happily make allowances for his career it was becoming too much for her. She hated the assumption that things should be easy because she was a stay-at-home mum but that was far from the truth. The children were so young that they needed her constant and undivided attention.

She was struggling to give two children her undivided attention and recently she’s become run down, completely running of fumes. She lives her life in a constant state of tired, she barely does a thing for herself, hell even a shower seemed like a hard task half of the time and Tom? Well half of the time she wasn’t a hundred per cent sure exactly what it was he was doing. She wondered how he hadn’t noticed, how he hadn’t seen the tiredness she constantly displayed.

Half of the mums at school had noticed, she saw it in their looks of pity when she arrived with her son, looking run down and disheveled because she couldn’t make herself look presentable. She didn’t have the time because either her baby would need something or her four-year-old which left no time for herself in a morning.

“Tom?” She shouted as she bounced Ava on her hip.

“Yeah?” He shouted back from where ever he was in the house.

“Can I get your help please?”

“Y/N, I’m busy.”

“You’re always busy.” She muttered to herself as she gave up and tried to soothe Ava on her own whilst making Noah’s lunch.

“Tom, I’ve just cleaned there.” She spoke, almost in disbelief as she watched her husband place his golf clubs in the middle of the hall.

“I’ll move them in a bit.” He shrugged. “I need to read over some stuff.” He said as he wandered down the hall and into his office. She couldn’t help herself as she flipped him off on his way, thankful he couldn’t see.

“Tom? Is there any chance you can take Noah to school tomorrow? I need to take Ava to an appointment and I don’t wanna be late again.”

“I can’t darling, I’m busy.” He answered, eyes on his laptop.

“Tom, please? I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important.” She tried and Tom looked up at her.

“Y/N/N, I am really busy right now. Just take Noah into school earlier and then you won’t be late.” He said and she looked at him in disbelief.

“Right, yeah, okay.” She huffed and left his office, shutting the door with enough force to let him know she was upset with him.

“Daddy! Look what I did.” Noah screamed as he made his way through the door.

“I’ll have a look in a bit my love, I’m busy at the moment.” Tom answered and their son huffed in response.

“Daddy!” Noah shouted as he ran into his father’s open arms. “Can we go for ice-cream?” He asked excitedly.

“Ask mummy, I have some work to do.” Tom said and Noah visibly deflated.

“She already said no, she’s too tired.” Noah mocked his mother’s voice.

“Well I expect she is tired.” Tom said, they never bad mouthed each other in front of the children. It wasn’t something either of them did.

“Why? She doesn’t work.” Noah folded his arms over his chest and Tom looked at him in a scalding manner.

“That’s not nice. Your mummy works really hard to make sure everything and everyone is okay. Don’t talk about her like that.”

“But she doesn’t do anything. She looks after us, my friends mummy works and she’s fine. Everyone at school has said it, she has nothing to be tired about, that’s what my friend’s mummy’s say.” Noah huffed, he had a bit of a temper streak. Tom’s heart plummeted, where people really shit talking his wife? To the point his son had become subject to it.

“That’s enough now Noah.” Tom said as he set his son down.

“Whatever. You’re always too busy and mummy’s always too tired. You’re both boring.” He snapped before running into his bedroom and slamming the door. This made Tom’s heart shatter, they were both trying to do the right thing. Tom really contemplated his life choices and in hind sight he wished he’d done something sooner, especially with the conversation he was about to have that evening.

“Tom, you are never here.” She exclaimed, a small comment having sparked an argument that had her struggling to keep her voice down.

“I’m busy. Look in a couple of months I’ll be here.” He said and she huffed folding her arms over her chest.

“You’re always busy Tom. I can’t remember the last time you put us first.”

“I’m doing this so I can take some more time off, Y/N, I don’t wanna be that guy but I earn the money, I can’t just stop working.” He snapped and she felt her anger rise in response.

“That’s bullshit,” she hissed out and he was taken aback by her tone. “You were in some of the biggest movies going a few years back. We are not struggling for money, that is some bullshit excuse for the fact that you’re not around.” She hissed, voice laced in nothing but venom.

“Look, I have a week off starting tomorrow, I don’t need to be anywhere and I won’t have any responsibilities, I can help.” He offered and she sighed, anger leaving her with nothing but defeat.

“I hope so.” She shrugged and Tom looked at her carefully.

“What do you mean?” He asked, there was something in her tone that scared him.

“I mean,” she sighed. “I can’t keep doing this, I’m tired and I need more from you.” She didn’t sound angry just tired and Tom felt his heart drop.

“Meaning?” He asked tentatively.

“Meaning, I can’t carry on doing this and next time it’s going to be a very different conversation. A conversation about us that I really don’t want to have but it’s come to that.” She sighed out before turning on her heel and leaving Tom with his thoughts. His heart shattered, had he really been so neglectful?

Tom was free for a week, which helped slightly because their son was always itching to spend time with his father. She thought this would mean that she got a little respite after their conversation the previous night but that’s not how it panned out.

“Y/N?” Her husbands voice echoed through the halls and she couldn’t help but roll her eyes at his tone. She shouted back her location within the house and few seconds later he appeared. “I need you to look after Noah.” He said, their son hot on his heels, she furrowed her brows.

“Why?” She couldn’t help but asked and Tom gave her a sympathetic look.

“I need to get some of this work done and as much as I love him he’s distracting me.” Tom spoke and she couldn’t help but huff, it was always something.

“I thought you were off this week?” She couldn’t help but ask, tone clipped and she instantly regretted using it in front of Noah.

“I was but then my agent emailed this morning and I now have a load of work to do.” He said, there was a sadness laced in his tone but she didn’t care. She passed him feeling bad about it, she needed him to put them first and recently he hasn’t.

“Fine, whatever.” She grumbled out a response and Tom felt awful, he could see how tired she was, he wouldn’t deny that. But these two projects were taking over and he felt just as tired trying to keep up. To anyone else looking in they would have said the couple needed to sit down and have a chat but of course relationships are more complex than that and the couple were still waiting to have said chat.

“Baby, I’m sorry.” Tom spoke and she sighed.

“It’s whatever Tom. He has some schoolwork he should be doing anyway.” She said, tone defeated and Tom sighed before nodding and making his way back into his office. He wanted to say something but he was afraid to start an argument in front of the children, the two had agreed that their arguments would be kept private, the children didn’t need to know about them.

She spent the afternoon trying to split herself between helping Noah with his math’s work and Ava with her teething. Noah was a bright child when it came to English and Art but Math’s? He was no good at and required a lot of help. She found herself growing frustrated the more she went through the work, she felt guilty but she was so tired she couldn’t help it.

“No, Noah. I’ve shown you this now. Come on, you need to work with me.” She said and instantly regretted the words.

“Mummy, I am trying but I don’t get it.” Noah said back as Ava burst into another flood of tears. She jumped up from her seat, Noah making a noise of annoyance at her actions. She scooped Ava into her arms and rocked her, it was making no difference, the ache in the child’s gum causing ample discomfort.

“Ava come on, shh, it’s okay. Calm down.” She said as she hastily scanned the living room in search of her teething ring. Her eyes landing on the object and she hastily picked it up before handing it to her daughter. She placed the ring in her mouth and instantly her screams calmed to small cries. Once she was settled enough, Y/N placed her back in her high chair and proceeded to help Noah.

She was tired by the end of the evening, her only job being left was to put Noah to bed and he just wouldn’t settle either. He wasn’t great at bed times, he was an alert child who found it hard to switch off for the day.

“Mummy, can we please have another story?” He asked and she felt herself deflate, all she wanted was to have a bath and go to bed.

“But sweetheart, I’ve already read two.” She tried to reason and Noah threw his book onto the floor which made her sigh out as she retrieved it.

“Please mummy? I’m not even tired, can’t I just play with my toys?” He asked, arms folded across his chest and she wasn’t prepared for what was to come next, signs of his temper tantrum approaching and fast.

“No sweetheart, you have school tomorrow.” She sighed out and she watched as her sons face turned into a rather sour expression.

“So? I’m not tired. How can I sleep if I’m not tired? You’re supposed to read to me.” He said and she sighed.

“Baby, mummy’s tired herself okay.” She said, she really didn’t have it in her to stay awake much longer.

“Then get daddy to read to me.” He huffed and she nodded before standing up and making her way into her husbands office, a soft knock pulling him from his work.

“Come in.” Tom’s voice spoke, eyes still trained on his emails.

“Tom? Can you read to Noah please?” She asked, hopefulness lacing her voice, her husbands eyes finding her tired ones. There was something about the way she looked tonight, the way she looked like she was struggling to keep herself stood that reality hit the man hard.

“Of course baby.” Tom said as he stood and he didn’t miss the flash of shock grace his wife’s face. He felt immensely guilty, he hadn’t been there for past six months and he could see what that was doing to her. “Have you eaten?” Tom asked and she shrugged.

“Bits but I’m not hungry.” She said as she rubbed at her red and tired eyes. Tom felt like an utter dick, he’d taken on too much and left his wife to pick up the pieces.

“You should eat.” Tom said and she shrugged.

“I just want to go to bed Tom.” She whispered out and he nodded in response before making his way over to her and kissing her forehead before pulling her into a hug.

“Then go sleep love. I’ve got Noah.” He spoke and she felt relieved, completely and utterly relieved, she didn’t even want the bath anymore, that could wait until tomorrow. She didn’t miss the excitement in her sons voice as Tom made his way into his room and she smiled before practically face planting the bed and falling asleep.

It was eight o clock in the morning when she woke, she felt sluggish as she grabbed for her phone and looked at the time. Heart beat picking up far too quickly for her bodies tired state.

“Shit.” She exclaimed as she rushed out of bed and into Noah’s room, only to find the bed empty. “Noah?” She shouted as she ran down the stairs, her mind was racing, she was running late. How had she slept for so many hours? And how had it gone interrupted?

“In here mummy.” Noah shouted back as she raced into the living room.

“I’m sorry, I’m up, I just need to get changed and then we can set off for school.” She rambled as ran into the kitchen to sort out his breakfast.

“Darling, slow down.” She heard Tom’s voice and she spun around to look at her husband, he had bags under his eyes and his hair was a slight mess. How could he still look so good? She wished she could look as good as he did, even tired.

“What?” She looked around the kitchen, evidence that Noah had already had his breakfast. His school bag filled with the books for the day and his packed lunch.

“I’m gonna take him in. Go and chill out.” He spoke as he pulled her into his chest and kissed the top of her head.

“Thank you.” She sighed and Tom nodded.

“I’ll take Ava and then you can get some rest if you need it, I’ll be back soon. I’ll do the shopping, should be an hour or so.” Tom spoke and her heart soared at his words.

“Did Ava sleep through?” She asked, realizing she’d not been woken up by her crying last night.

“Yeah, a few times. I slept in there, wanted you to catch up on some sleep.” He admitted and she could have cried with the happiness the revelation brought her. “We need to talk when I get home.” He spoke and she nodded. “Okay, well I’ll see you in an hour.” He said and she nodded before kissing her son good bye and making him promise to behave.

An hour and a half later and she’d had a relaxing bath, one that she was more than thankful and ready for. She’d even managed to have a hot cup of tea, a stark difference to the cold ones she was used to. She’d even managed to read a chapter of her new book, she still felt like she could sleep for a while but overall relaxed and content.

“Hey.” Tom said as he leant against the doorway to their bedroom. She placed her book down and looked at him.

“Hey,” she said somewhat awkwardly, she wasn’t sure how this conversation was about to go.

“I’ve just put Ava down, will probably give us a good hour or so.” He spoke and she nodded. “So,” he sighed. “We should talk.” He continued and she nodded again, words not being able to find her, she needed to know how he feeling, what he was going to say first.

“I’m sorry, I want you to know that. I’ve been so wrapped up in what I’ve been doing that I haven’t noticed what I was doing to you. I’m so used to you being the one who has everything together, who know exactly what to do that I thought you didn’t need my help as much as you do.” He started and she opened her mouth to speak but no words came out before he beat her to it.

“I know that’s not an excuse, it’s poor on my behalf and I’m sorry. You and the children, you mean everything to me. All I want in life is for you guys to get everything you want and need and I’m sorry that I’ve been the way that I have, there are no excuses.” He said and she felt her heart lift, the two could fix this, fix what has been happened. “But I need something from you.” He spoke and she furrowed her brows as she waited for him to continue.

“I need you to be honest, I need you to tell me what it’s been like to be you. I don’t want you to spare my feelings, I want you to let it all out. I’m listening now, darling, I need to know what this has done to you, how I can make it right.” He said and she nodded slightly before sitting up in bed properly, her back against the head board as she carefully played with her wedding ring. Tom sat carefully on the edge of the bed, he needed to hear what she was about to say.

“Tom, you’ve just not been here.” She started with her biggest problem. “Even when you are in the house it’s like you just expect me to do everything. You expect your clothes to be washed, dried and ironed, you expect your dinner on the table and I never used to mind. You would always say thank you but recently you haven’t and it made me wonder whether or not you just expect it of me, that it’s my job.” She started and Tom kept quiet, he wanted her to continue.

“Tom, you used to be so attentive.” She said as she reached over and took his hand in her own. “You always used to be here, know when I needed help without having to ask. I don’t mind doing all of those things for you, I really don’t but when you don’t get a thanks it feels a little like you’re being used.” She continued and his heart shattered, he would never intentionally use her, he loved her, loved his family.

“That brings me onto the kids, Tom they need so much attention. They want me to split myself in two half of the time and I can’t, it’s impossible. They both need so much from me and given Ava teething I don’t even get a full night’s sleep. I am constantly trying to run off energy that I just don’t have. It wasn’t so bad when Noah was a baby, we took shifts, you helped. Recently though Tom, it’s been me that gets up and tends to her, me that sacrifices sleep.”

“I know that might sound selfish but when you have a partner, a husband who’s supposed to help with all that it gets tiresome. I found myself getting so angry with you, I wanted to be you, I wanted to bury my head in paperwork and think of nothing else. There were days when I honestly wanted nothing to do with you, I didn’t want to be around you because everything little thing you did angered me.”

“I’ve been so tired, my mind is never where it should be. I’m always doing stupid things because I’m so tired. I never feel like I get anything back from you. I’m too tired to have an evening to myself when they have gone to sleep, I just want to sleep myself. I’m always running around after them, something you barely do anymore, sure you play with them but when was the last time you had to deal with one of Noah’s meltdowns?”

“I get that you have a lot on, I get that two projects keep you busy and if we didn’t have kids it wouldn’t affect me as much but we do and it does. I need you to be there for me Tom, I can’t keep doing this alone, I can’t.” She ended her rant and Tom felt awful, he was so angry with himself, she didn’t even sound angry anymore. She sounded like she’d accepted it and she was just tired with the situation, somehow he wishes she was screaming at him right now.

“I’m sorry princess. There are no words, no excuses for what I’ve done. I’m sorry I made you feel like that, it was never my intention. You mean the world to me, you and the kids. Things are gonna change, I promise.” Tom said, he knew now that actions spoke louder than words, it wasn’t what she wanted him to say it was what she wanted him to do.

“On top of all of that Tom, I can’t remember the last time we did anything as a couple. Most of the time I’m asleep when you get to bed, I can’t remember the last time we touched each other, it’s just draining. It all adds up.”

“I know darling. I promise things are gonna change. Why don’t you pick a film and I’ll be back in a minute?” He said and she nodded as she flicked the TV on and got herself comfortable in bed. She couldn’t remember the last time she had a day in bed. Tom returned almost ten minutes later and she wondered where he had gotten to.

“Where did you end up?” She asked as he made his way into the bedroom, two bottles of water in hand.

“Well, I grabbed these, I made sure Ava was still okay and the baby monitor is working properly and I had to send a couple of emails.” He admitted and her heart dropped, after everything she’d just said? He took in her expression as he placed the water down and jumped into bed with her. “Not like that darling, I’ve passed one of my projects onto Harrison and Harry, they’re gonna finish it up.” He said and she relaxed. “I promised things will change and they will.”

“Daddy!” Noah shouted as he ran to his father, who was there at the school gate to pick him up, Y/N right there next to him. It had been a while since they both picked him up. Ava was a little more settled today which made things a little easier.

“How was school?” Tom asked enthusiastically and then almost cried when he realised how long it had been since he asked that question.

“Amazing!” Noah gushed as he looked at his mother. “Mummy, you look so pretty.” He spoke and she laughed.

“She always looks pretty.” Tom defended her and Noah nodded.

“Yeah, but she looks extra pretty today.” Noah said. It had been a while since she was able to put effort into her appearance and she felt better for doing it. Even if it was only a nicely picked out outfit and tamed hair. “Can we go for ice cream?”

“You my boy have an obsession.” Tom laughed as he poked his son playfully. “But yeah, I think that’ll be a good idea.” Tom said as he looked to his wife who nodded in response. She didn’t miss the looks of jealousy thrown her way when they saw her with Tom.

“So what did you do this afternoon?” Noah asked his parents as he was being strapped into the back of the car.

“We watched a film.” Tom stated, it was an absolute lie, they’d gotten half an hour into the film before Tom had his head between his wife’s legs. It had been a while since they’d done anything like that and when they both realised that fact. When they both realised how long it had truly been since they’d done anything, they spent most of the afternoon catching up with each other’s bodies. In between tending to their baby of course, they both felt energized after their endeavors between the sheets.

“Was it good?”

“Absolutely amazing.” Y/N answered as Tom slipped into the driver’s seat, she took his hand in hers as she held it in her lap.

“Can we watch another film when we get home?” Noah asked excitedly.

“Sure, how about we go and spend the afternoon doing something fun and then we can go out for tea, go home and watch a film?” Tom suggested and Noah fist bumped the air.

“Yes! Does this mean you two aren’t going to be boring now?” Noah asked and Y/N and Tom found themselves laughing.

“Yes, this means we aren’t going to be boring anymore.”

#tom holland x reader #tom holland angst #tom holland fluff #tom holland x y/n #tom holland one shot #tom holland x female reader

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chickenscript · 3 years

Note

Could you write a scenario for each of the turtles where they sneak into to a hospital through the window and visit the reader who is staying the night after they broke their arm?

A/N: i feel like i could've wrote this funnier but hope you enjoy!

Least to say, you weren't expecting any visitors when you ended up bedridden in the hospital.

Well, it wasn't all that serious really. You got a bone fracture in your arm after a little skateboarding incident but, the doctors wanted to keep you overnight for observation and to help ease you through those first hours of sheer pain.

Back on topic though- you wondered why you didn't think that you wouldn't see any familiar faces pop by during your stay considering the company you kept.

And by that you meant they would 100% be the type to break into a hospital just to visit you.

Leo: - You honestly thought he would've tried to sneak in dressed as a nurse knowing Leo and his ideas.

- But no, this time around he had snuck in through your window and did so, so stealthily that he nearly gave you a heart attack when he cropped up right next to your face sudden.

- Thankfully you realized it was him before you could let out a scream that would've alerted a nurse or doctor.

- You laughed the fright off and he took a seat on your bed next to you.

- He started off idle chatter about how you were feeling and the specifics of how you ended up here, and you enjoyed the company as much as you knew he should've waited until you left tomorrow for his own sake.

- You couldn't not appreciate that he had come to check on you.

- You're not sure that you had known anyone before the turtles that would've found a way into your hospital room after visiting hours to make sure you were absolutely okay themselves.

- You made sure to let Leo know that too.

- He smiled sheepishly and ruffled your hair; he'd break into a hospital any day for you. You were one of his best friends after all. (Of which the turtles only had you and April).

- The sentiment made you snort and you smiled back at your goofy friend with a giggely thank you.

- You wouldn't have it any other way.

- Regardless, you had to admit that he probably should've left for the lair before the morning rolled in instead of staying so long into the night getting caught up in nighttime conversation with you that he wound up passing out like you did.

- He had to narrowly avoid being caught by the staff and you tried not to bust out laughing at his "timely escape".

- Which was Leo having to scramble out off the bottom of your bed where he'd sprawled out on so he could launch himself out the window when the nurse came to tell you that you were ready to be discharged.

- The sound of a yowling cat as he landed in the dumpster outside didn't help your case either.

Donnie:

- You...you weren't expecting the impromptu doctor costume.

- Or for him to immediately start out his sudden visit by prodding at your cast the second he was done clambering through your room window.

- Donnie insisted he just wanted to check on the sturdiness of it, but you still had to swat him away so he wouldn't fuss over it.

- With a sigh, you let your arm fall back across your stomach. You didn't have to ask to know why he was here because you had a good guess already.

- You invited the turtle to sit on your hospital bed and after hesitating for a moment, he plopped down.

- He cleared his throat and asked you how you were feeling.

- You smiled and told him that they were giving you plenty of painkillers, Dr. Dee. It wasn't a gnarly break, so you were lucky in that regard and didn't need any heavy duty treatment.

- Donnie nodded with closed eyes and folded arms.

- He told you everyone was worried about you and you poked his bicep, telling him to tell them that you definitely weren't dying or anything.

- Donnie looked down at you and poked you in the nose, telling you that a broken arm still wasn't anything to laugh about.

- You wriggled your nose with a puff. You knew that but you also knew that you would be able to recover just fine.

- Even though Donnie didn't show it like his brothers would've, you knew he had come all this way to make sure you were getting treated properly. (Even though you certainly were).

- After his fussing, you and Donnie played a few rounds of Mario Kart on his switch while chatting. You were sure he was going easy on you because of your arm but you didn't say anything about it because well, who could ever complain about winning?

- When you wrapped up, you let him sign his name in an almost obnoxious purple that glinted neon in the dark on your cast and he told you not to break anything else.

- You laughed and replied that you didn't plan on it.

- The answer seemed to be good enough for him as he left and after the nurse came to turn out your lights for you, you laid back in your bed and stared for a long while at the glow in the dark signature on your bum arm before falling asleep.

Mikey:

- You had to shush him the moment he launched onto your hospital bed.

- He was immediately poking and prodding at you, and asking about whether or not your arm still hurt.

- You laughed softly and shook your head. You reassured him you were doing much better compared to earlier.

- Mikey was happy to hear about that, settling down a bit and sitting down.

- He asked if he could touch your cast and you gave a nod.

- He touched it very gently, wrinkling his snout at the coarse feeling texture of it under his fingertips.

- Then he looked up at your face and asked the question you knew he was probably waiting to since he got there.

- You gave another soft laugh and said yes, he could sign your cast.

- With a wide smile he whipped out some markers he was carrying with him and got work scribbling on your cast.

- You quickly got the feeling that his "signature" was going to be much more elaborate than just that.

- And you weren't wrong as he spent the better part of an hour, chatting with you as he drew.

- Truthfully, you hadn't been able to get to bed at all before Mikey dropped by and having him here was nicer than tossing and turning, waiting to fall asleep.

- Eventually, he's done and you're amazed by the graffiti style doodle now on the corner of your cast.

- Mikey beamed at the look on your face and asked you what you thought. To which you were quick to say it looked amazing.

- You ended up having a chat about art and you two did some doodling in one of your notebooks before he had to go back to the lair so you could call it a night.

- He wished you a goodnight and you promised to be over the next day to spend some time with your favorite turtles, and when you let your head rest on your pillow, sleep found you much easier than you thought it would before Mikey got there.

Raph:

- You were surprised a herd of staff didn't rush to your room as he had to all but force himself through the window and knocked over an IV pole and those little carts that held nurse supplies.

- Of course, a sweet little nurse did pop in to see if you were alright and you told her that a strong breeze must have done it all.

- She bought the story and Raph, who had ducked under your bed and raised it a good foot or two higher, crawled out.

- He asked you how you were doing and whatnot, and you waved off his worries.

- Still, he didn't seem very sated by the look on his face.

- You reached out with your good arm and gave him a pat on his. - In truth, Raph felt bad that he nor his brothers could've been there to prevent your injury; as stupid as that might sound.

- And he seemed to think you would laugh at him as he admitted that to you.

- You didn't think it sounded stupid in the slightest though. A lot of people feel that way when it comes to people they care about, you reassured him.

- You felt the same every time the turtles had altercations with the villainy lurking in New York.

- That seemed to work and you were glad to shake some worry off of Raph's big ole shoulders. He had enough of that while trying to lead the gaggle of turtle brothers.

- You patted the side of your bed and almost regretted the gesture when it groaned in agony at Raph's mass.

- You tried to laugh it off, hoping internally that the bed would turn out okay. You were just happy that it was holding up for now. But, you were surprised that Raph didn't notice the potential problem.

- You two spent a while just idly chatting and Raph recanted the brothers' recent encounter with some villains last night. You eagerly listened and enthused about it alongside the behemoth of a snapping turtle whose giddiness about things always reminded you he was truly a softie.

- After some hours, he got around to leaving once he signed your cast in big, blunt red letters and the hang out session made you feel like you really did have friends looking out for your more than you realized before.

#rottmnt #rise of the tmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt #rottmnt x reader #reader insert #fanfic #mywriting #headcannons #anon

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archived-kin · 3 years

Text

solomon deserves a husband so i'm giving him one (it's you)

note from kin: i don’t know HOW i’ve managed to get this out so soon after my last piece but i do know that it is a miracle (now watch me disappear for like a month lmao)

anyway there’s a severe lack of content for the boys in this fandom and therefore i am here to try to mitigate that!!

(as a heads up, this is sort of an au version of obey me’s story?? there’s no exchange program, and the general human world doesn’t know about the devildom or celestial realm, apart from sorcerers and similar special cases. solomon and simeon both still visit the devildom, though - solomon because he has a sort of job at the r.a.d., and simeon as an ambassador sort of thing for the celestial realm. the r.a.d.’s also less of a school and more of an organisation?? i haven’t really fleshed it out haha)

fandom: obey me!

character(s): male! reader, solomon, mammon (briefly), simeon (briefly)

pairing(s): solomon/reader

warning(s): blasphemy??? solomon disses god really briefly and that’s about it

genre: fluff!!!!!!!!!

As a general rule of thumb, Solomon doesn’t believe in destiny.

He’s lived long enough to know that, no matter what he does, the universe does not care about him, much less have some sort of plan for his future. The course that the world takes isn’t affected by some grand puppet master pulling the strings; one has to force the so-called path of fate in the direction they want it to take if they want something. Solomon knows this better than anyone.

It’s as much a downfall as it is a strength - as much as power as he’s amassed over the countless years, his constant need to challenge the universe’s power has lead him down a path far from humanity. There had been a time when he was like every other human on the Earth, when he was still young, full of hope and determination and promise, believing earnestly in some God high in the sky who would guide him through his life.

He shudders to think what sort of insufferable fool he’d been back then. An almighty God? Don’t make him laugh. The ruler of the Celestial Realm is incompetent at best, and a downright childish brat at worst. He doesn’t know how the angels put up with him - though he supposes his realm-smiting power is part of it. Why the universe chose to place such power on such a being’s shoulders will always be beyond him.

Long as it has been since he had been so naive, Solomon has learnt his lesson, to say the least. He’s seen people come and go, witnessed kings and queens reign and fall, watched on as friends and family live and die. It’s a truth that he’s been forced to learn across the years of his long, long life, a curse that he brought upon himself the moment he gave up the purity of his soul in pursuit of magical arts.

He supposes he’s always had an insatiable thirst for the unknown - to play all his cards out front, to tempt fate’s hand, to jump into the void and hope to find ground beneath his feet when he lands. It’s that sort of reckless abandon and hunt for knowledge that has led him so far down this path, through so many years, across so many sleepless nights. The world continues to swirl around him, always changing, but Solomon refuses to be swept away. Because, even in the tumultuous movement of the universe, there has always been one constant that keeps him anchored - you.

The night he'd first met you isn’t as clear in his mind as he would have liked. He wants to be able to remember everything - the way the soft blue light of the will-o’-whisps had lit up your eyes in the dark of the night, the way that your hand had felt in his as you greeted him with a handshake, the way that you had said his name for the first time - in sharp detail, but Solomon knows better than to hope to recall something so long ago so perfectly.

He’d still been relatively new to a sorcerer’s life at the time - excited and determined and a little too full of himself. You… well, he doesn’t remember exactly, but he does remember thinking that you must be the most handsome being to exist. The you of today would probably shake your head and dismiss the past you as an obnoxious high hoper, but Solomon has loved you for so many years that he’s never been able to think of you as anything less than perfect.

There are times when he wondered how he managed to stumble upon such luck. It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say that Solomon has has had truly insufferable periods over the years he’s known you, and he’s always considered it a miracle that you still chose to stay. Even through all the restless nights and the exhausting trips, even after all of the clashes and vexation, you have refused to give up on him.

He had asked you once, in the aftermath of an argument spurred by his inability to confide in you and your own frustration with his refusal to communicate. He remembers that night so vividly that it might well have happened just yesterday - the frustrated shouts, the shattering of glass, the warmth of your arms around his shoulders as he finally collapsed on himself. He doesn’t know what your face had looked like as he stuttered the question out in stuttering breaths, head buried in your shoulder in an effort to conceal his tears, but he imagines that it had been soft.

“I’m not going to leave you to yourself,” You had told him matter-of-factly, stroking his hair with such fondness that it still sometimes brings a tear to his eye when he remembers it on particularly long nights. “And I’m not giving up on you, either - not now, not ever.”

Solomon had been unable to speak, too choked up by his feelings and the sudden, overwhelming love spreading through his entire body to reply. He’d only sunk deeper into your embrace, wishing that the moment could last forever.

I wonder if he still remembers that…?

“...lomon! Anyone home?!”

He jolts up from the table he’s sitting at so abruptly that he nearly knocks his head right into Mammon’s chin. The Avater of Greed, however, reacts quickly, and hops back before Solomon can break his jawbone.

“Jeez, you’re off on a different planet today,” He comments, setting his hands on his hips as Solomon shoots him the sort of look that tells him that he’s not particularly enthused about his presence at the moment. “What’s up with ya?”

Solomon isn’t quite sure how to answer. Sorry, I got distracted thinking about how perfect and lovely my husband is and how I’m the luckiest man in the entire world - nay, the universe - to have him. He nearly physically shudders at the thought of how much teasing he’d receive if he answered like that.

Instead, he chooses a much safer and still technically true option. “Just thinking about going home today.”

Mammon nods in understanding, pulling up a seat next to him and throwing himself down into it without much grace. “I feel ya. S’ been a long day.”

“You’ve barely done anything today,” Solomon quips flatly, not particularly impressed by the demon’s attempt at… empathy? Relatability? Either way, it isn’t working. “I doubt it’s been that hard.”

“Now, now, Solomon, let’s not be rude,” interjects a soft voice from behind them. Simeon is still dressed in his fancy envoy cloak - the one so long and heavy that it trails along behind him like a bridal train, decorated with a number of elaborate golden charms that jingle as he moves.

Solomon attempts to shoot him a slightly annoyed look, but it’s kind of hard to stay irritated by one of the literal embodiments of holiness and light, even if he wakes you up at very unholy hours of the morning to help him figure out how to answer an email. Solomon isn’t ungrateful for the new age of technology descending on humanity, but he’d like it a lot better if it hadn’t somehow reached the angels as well. The amount of times he’s had to tell Simeon that he needs to actually turn his D.D.D. on before he starts calling someone is… embarrassing, to say the least.

“You’re back in the Devildom, I see,” He observes as the angel pulls up a seat and sits beside him. “Did Michael send you down again?”

Simeon nods with a smile. “There were some arrangements that needed to be made with Lord Diavolo. Naturally, I volunteered.”

“Naturally,” Solomon echoes, raising a brow at his friend. “I don’t suppose your biases had anything to do with your decision?”

“Well, they may have had some effect,” Simeon answers with a shameless smile and shrug, beginning to undo the tassels of his heavy cloak and draping it on the back of chair he’s sitting on. He’s still wearing all of his regular clothes underneath it - including the other, much smaller cloak. Solomon wonders how he hasn’t somehow melted in the heat.

“When’re you gonna start heading home, anyway?” Mammon asks, beginning to pick at a loose thread on his jacket sleeve. “It’s gettin’ late.”

Solomon blinks and looks up at the clock. “...ah, you’re right. In that case, I'll get going now.”

Mammon shoots him an odd look as he pushes himself up from the table and reaches for his bag, managing to hoist it onto his shoulder with some effort. He’s never been particularly good at heavy lifting - you’re usually the one helping him carry everything around the house.

“Oi, oi, what’s the rush?” the demon asks as Solomon adjusts the weight of his bag and starts heading for the door. “You on a timer or something?”

“I promised [Name] I’d be home earlier tonight,” is Solomon’s slightly absent-minded reply as he fiddles about in his pocket to find his transportation charm, nearly losing his balance and dropping his bag in the process. “I’ll see you both tomorrow.”

Mammon watches him in clear confusion for a moment as he pats down his pockets, mumbling a quiet curse under his breath as he realises that he’s left his charm at home again. How many times this month does that make it now...? He supposes that he could always perform a teleportation spell, but knowing his luck with those, he’ll probably end up somewhere in Morocco again.

“Oi, Simeon,” Mammon hisses to the angel, who cocks his head slightly to the side and leans over so as to hear him more clearly. “Who’s this ‘[Name]’ Solomon’s talkin’ about?”

“You don’t know?” Simeon blinks at him in blatant perplexion - as if he can’t even fathom the idea that Mammon might not know who Solomon’s talking about. “He’s talking about his husband.”

There’s a long moment of silence. Then—

“Solomon has a HUSBAND!?” Mammon practically shrieks, completely flabbergasted. “I thought he was totally, like, the forever alone type!”

“Don’t tell me you’ve never noticed?” is Simeon’s bewildered response. “Who do you think Solomon is always talking about buying groceries for?”

“I thought he was just buyin’ them for himself!” Mammon fires back, looking far more ruffled and shocked than he probably should be. He whips around to look at Solomon, who’s flicking through the little packet of blank charms he keeps on him at all times in an effort to find the right one to create a temporary transportation charm. He’s had to do it so many times this month that he’s already beginning to run out. “You’re married?!”

“Of course,” Solomon answers vaguely, briefly raising his left hand, allowing Mammon to spot the soft glint of a ring around his fourth finger. “You’re not?”

“Wh— ‘course I’m not!” Mammon exclaims, positively scandalised by the very concept. “Why would I get married, huh?! It’s a waste of time and a waste of money!”

“Think whatever you like,” Solomon dismisses him easily, which only seems to irritate Mammon further.

Finally having found the right blank charm, he plucks it out and begins carefully tracing patterns onto it with a single glowing finger. He’s dimly aware of Mammon furiously whispering to Simeon in the background, with the angel responding in kind, most likely sharing some exaggerated story from back when the three of you had worked together - when Solomon had accepted a job from the Celestial Realm. The details of the whole thing are a little fuzzy to him now, long as it has been, but he’s almost completely sure that Simeon somehow still remembers the whole thing flawlessly.

“How old even is he?!” He hears Mammon hiss.

“I’m not so sure myself,” Simeon replies, placing his chin in a thoughtful hand. “Let’s see… their two millennial anniversary’s coming up in about two years, and I remember Solomon saying that they got married when he was around two hundred or so… which means he’s about twenty-one hundred years old.”

“Holy shit,” Mammon mutters in disbelief, turning glance at the sorcerer as he starts folding down the corners of his charm into the right shape. “Humans aren’t supposed to live that long. How’s his husband still alive, then?”

“That isn’t really a question for me to answer,” Simeon shakes his head slightly. “I suppose you can always ask him yourself if Solomon ever brings him to work with him.”

“I doubt it,” Solomon speaks up for the first time since announcing his departure. “He’s usually busy during the day. Besides, transportation charms make him queasy, and I’m not making him walk all the way down here.”

“Aren’t you a wizard?” Mammon asks, scratching his head. “Just do one of ya fancy teleportation spells. Why d’you need a charm?”

Solomon sighs. He hates to admit it, but he can’t be bothered to make up some other reason to cover up for himself. “I’m afraid that teleportation spells aren’t actually particularly accurate. We could end up somewhere in the Pacific if I’m not careful.”

Mammon looks thunderstruck. “Then what about all those times you’ve teleported us?! Don’t tell me we coulda ended up in, like, the Archaic Pit or something?!”

“Well, it was always a possibility,” Solomon shrugs in reply, finishing the charm with a deft flick of his hand. “You’re a demon, I sure you could have handled yourself.”

“But…!” Mammon crosses his arms and turns away like a grumpy child. “Hmph…”

“Do say hello to [Name] for me, will you?” Simeon requests as Solomon turns to open the door, ignoring the sulking demon sitting beside him. “We haven’t been able to talk for a while.”

“You text him every day, don’t you?” Solomon asks, shooting him an unimpressed look. “I’d say that’s conversation enough.”

“Now, now, there’s no need to be stingy,” Simeon countered with a smile, tilting his head slightly to the side and leaning forward. “Besides, one misses the presence of an actual person after a while of nothing but electronic communication... especially texting is so difficult. Tell him he’s always welcome to come around for some tea - Luke would be happy to see him.”

Solomon shakes his head, but makes a sound of affirmation nevertheless. You had mentioned that you’ve missed seeing Simeon since he’d started the whole negotiator businesss, and he isn’t the sort of person to deny you the company of a friend. “I’ll let him know. Anyway, I should really be going now…”

“Have a safe journey!” Simeon calls after him as he swings the door open and sweeps out. Solomon waves a hand over his shoulder in response, then disappears down the corridor, most likely to a quiet spot in the courtyard to use his charm. He’s been banned from using them indoors ever since he accidentally shattered one of the fancy artifacts in the assembly hall and sent hundreds of shards flying everywhere. Apparently Barbatos is still finding tiny pieces of glass in the crevices of the floor.

“Why didn’t Solomon ever say anythin’?” Mammon asks Simeon after a moment of quietude. “Seems like the sorta thing you’d mention.”

“Solomon’s a private man,” Simeon says with a shrug. “Besides, he and [Name] have made plenty of enemies over the years, and you’d be shocked by how quickly names and locations can spread…”

“Does he mind us knowin’ about it, then?”

“Well, personally, I’ve known for a while,” Simeon answers, “And I’m sure the others will have worked it out by now - Solomon’s always finding ways to mention [Name] in passing. But no, I’m sure he doesn’t mind. He’d say something if he did.”

Mammon nods and goes silent for a little while. Then he asks, “What’s this [Name] like, then? Must be some guy if Solomon liked him enough to put a ring on him and keep him for that long.”

“Well, let’s see…” Simeon drums his fingers thoughtfully against the tabletop. “He has quite the penchant for raising deadly plants, he hasn’t gone more than a full month without exploding something or another for about five centuries, he takes clocks apart in his spare time, he likes his coffee with a touch of vanilla, he collects cursed books, he makes a lovely butterscotch-cinnamon pie, and he works as a curse breaker for hire.”

It takes a moment for Mammon to process all of the information that’s just been dumped on him. “...sounds like the kinda guy Satan would get along with.”

“I thought so as well,” Simeon agrees. “Their house even reminds me of Satan’s room, in a way… [Name] is quite the avid reader.”

“What, you’ve been?”

“Only once,” Simeon’s eyes flutter closed for a moment as he reminisces. “Quite a long time ago now. I wouldn’t know where to find it even if I wanted to go again, though - it’s always moving.”

“Do they move house a lot, then?”

Simeon shakes his head. “Oh, no, no. They’ve lived in the same house for centuries - it’s the house that moves itself.”

Mammon pauses. “...what?”

“The building,” Simeon clarifies. “They’ve got an enchantment on the whole thing that makes it change locations every couple of weeks or so.”

“But… why?”

Simeon shrugs. “[Name] doesn’t like staying in one place for too long.”

“Still, isn’t that a bit much…?” Mammon pulls a face. “They could always just travel, ya know…”

“As Solomon said, transportation talismans make [Name] feel queasy,” Simeon explains. “And he prefers not to use teleportation spells when it comes to him, just in case they end up somewhere dangerous.”

“And he doesn’t care about the rest of us ending up somewhere dangerous?” Mammon huffs and collapses forwards onto the table.

“Well, you can’t really compare the two,” Simeon says patiently as the demon continues to mutter indignantly under his breath. “He’s his husband, and we’re essentially just his friends from work.”

Mammon opens his mouth to make a rebuttal, then thinks about it for a moment and changes his mind. After a moment, he comments, a little less resentfully, “Well, you’d think he’d at least introduce us.”

“He’s been planning to for a while, actually,” Simeon tells him. “Give him some time and he’ll probably bring it up on his own.”

Mammon nods. “He’d better!”

“I’m home.”

You look up from the book you’re reading and hop down from your seat on the roof just in time to see Solomon emerge from the back garden, looking noticeably dishevelled, with leaves decorating his head like some sort of fancy accessory.

“Welcome back!” You greet him happily, setting the book aside and moving forward to start picking the leaves from his hair. Solomon smiles softly at you as you take his bag in one hand and start pulling him to the front door with the other. “You forgot your talisman again, by the way.”

“I noticed,” He laughs, gently removing your hand from his upper arm and wrapping his fingers around it instead. “Why else do you think I ended up in the hedges again?”

“It’s a wonder that you’ve had to make these temporary talismans so many times and you still haven’t gotten one right yet,” You tease in reply, nudging him in the shoulder. “How many points is that on the tally now, then?”

“Ten for the basement, seven for the roof, and eleven for the hedges now,” He answers with a small pout as you laugh. “Honestly, you’d think I would have learnt my lesson...”

“You never do, love.”

The door creaks as you and your husband enter the house, only to immediately be greeted by a bundle of scales hitting you head-on. You manage to keep your footing and steady yourself on the doorway; Solomon isn’t so lucky, and ends up laying spread-eagled on the floor with about two hundred kilograms of excited adolescent dragon purring on his chest.

“Looks like Triton missed you,” You comment with a bright smile, setting Solomon’s bag down beside the umbrella rack and leaning over to give the dragon a scratch behind his left horn, just the way he likes it. He rumbles happily and jingles the little bell around his neck at you. “Isn’t he getting big?”

“I saw him this morning, [Name],” Solomon wheezes from his position on the floor, somehow managing to reach up and tickle Triton’s chin with one hand despite the dragon’s weight. “He can’t have grown that much in ten hours.”

“You never know!” You tell him, reaching up and wrapping your arms around Triton’s neck. He coos in a delighted fashion and raises his head, setting it heavily on your shoulder. Solomon uses the brief lightening of the weight on him to take in a deep breath as you allow your dragon to nuzzle furiously into your neck. “Dragons are unpredictable, you know.”

“Believe me, I do,” He sighs tiredly as Triton blows out a pleased puff of hot air and knocks the clock off the wall again. “Now, if you wouldn’t mind, Triton, I’d quite like to get back up again.”

The dragon blinks and raises his head from your shoulder, glancing down at the sorcerer that he’s crushing under his weight. Then he huffs and turns away again.

“Oh, you—!” Solomon curses as the dragon seems to press even harder into him. Your laughter rings out across the hall, and while he’d normally take a moment to admire the sound, he’s a little preoccupied. “[Name], stop laughing and help me!”

“He’s like a rebellious teenager!” You splutter helplessly in reply, voice still trembling slightly out of mirth. Triton makes a happy noise as you reach up and rub his scaly cheeks, his ears fluttering slightly. “Awww, you’re really growing up, aren’t you, baby? Your poor dads are really going to have their work cut out for them, huh?”

“Hey,” Solomon calls reproachfully from beneath Triton’s enormous chest. “Your husband’s still being crushed down here.”

“Oh, right!” You click your tongue and give Triton a meaningful look. He grumbles but obeys nevertheless, hopping off of Solomon (though not without knocking all the air out of him by using his chest as a launchpad) and scampering off, most likely to go play with the salamanders that have set up shop in the storage room again.

“I’ll never understand how you manage him so well,” Solomon sighs as you bend down to pull him to his feet, rubbing at the sore spot on his chest. “He never listens to me.”

“Aw, he loves you, really,” You reassure him, taking his hand and pressing a comforting kiss to his knuckles. “He just likes roughhousing with you.”

Solomon shakes his head, wanting to complain further about the big lizard that the two of you had adopted six months ago after the last one grew up and flew the nest, but then he sees the smile on your face, and he feels the flicker of irritation in his chest die down almost immediately. It’s at times like this that he’s really reminded of how absolutely worth it all of the nonsense he has to put up with at work is - because, at the end of the day, you are here, with your warm eyes and your lovely smile, with your comforting hands and your warm embrace, and there is no road too long to walk if you are waiting for him at the end of it.

“I know,” He sighs, tugging off his shoes and stepping into his favourite pair of slippers - the ones with the little cat faces printed on them that you’ve charmed to always maintain a perfect temperature for his feet. He glances at your own feet and notes that you’re wearing your matching pair as well.

The two of you have long since set up a routine for this sort of occasion, and you both fall into it with unconscious ease. Solomon changes into something more comfortable while you put the kettle on in the kitchen, and the two of you inevitably spend so long snuggled up together on the largest armchair in the living room, unwilling to leave the warmth of each other’s presence, that the water cools down, and you end up having to put it back on again. Then you sit together at the table, you with a coffee with a dash of vanilla and him with his favourite chrysanthemum tea that you always brew just the way he likes it. Sometimes you’ll sit side by side, shoulders pressed up against each other as you show him the specifics of your latest curse-breaking commission, and sometimes you’ll sit across from each other, holding hands across the tabletop as he tells you about his day.

Today it is the former, but Solomon can’t help but zone a little out of the detailed deep-dive you’re giving him about the intricacies of the spell that’s cursed this teapot to shoot its contents at anyone who attempts to fill it. It isn’t that your explanation is boring - quite the contrary, in fact; Solomon could probably listen to you describing the most mundane or trivial of things on loop for the rest of his life and be perfectly content with it. No, it’s more to do with the fact that this is the first time he’s been home before dark in a long while, and he can’t help but revel in the fact that he can spend time with you like this again. Of course, there’s something wonderful in coming home to be able to collapse into bed beside you and bury his face in the crook of your neck, drifting to sleep as you burrow closer to him even in your sleep, but Solomon can’t run off of that forever - he needs to see you with your eyes open as well, after all.

“You’re not listening to a word I say, are you?” You ask as you note the far-off look on your husband’s face. You’re not offended in the slightest by the way he starts at the directed question, evidently guilty, but you are a little puzzled. “Is there something wrong?”

Solomon’s mouth falls open slightly, then shuts again. There’s something about the way you’re looking at him so earnestly that makes his heart stutter like nothing else. Honestly, you’d think he’d be used to this after nearly two thousand years, but it seems that he’s still as weak for you as he was on the very first day of your marriage. “...I suppose I’ve just got a lot on my mind.”

“You always have a lot on your mind,” You counter softly, giving his hand a brief squeeze. “Come on, you can tell me.”

He laughs quietly, bringing your linked hands up to his face and gently holding yours to the side of his face; you, in turn, unfurl your fingers from around his and rub his cheek affectionately. After a moment, a fond smile pulling at his lips, Solomon replies, “I’ve… missed you a lot this week.”

You pause in mild surprise, but it quickly turns to endearment as Solomon presses his body even closer to yours. The hand that you’re using to hold your mug of coffee moves to settle on his shoulder as you pull him closer. “Really now? What a coincidence. I’ve missed you lots as well, love.”

He chuckles a little bashfully, his cheeks flushing. It seems that your ability to fluster him hasn’t declined even a bit over the years. He’s still well and truly besotted.

You can’t help but find it rather amusing that, despite already having spent a good hour and a half or so in the living room, bundled so close together in the blankets that you could feel his breath on your skin, the two of you are still nestling so close together now. You suppose it’s the effects of a week with much less contact than usual.

You lean forward and press a kiss to his jaw before pulling back again, reaching for your coffee and taking a sip. Solomon exhales softly, pulling his own drink towards him and draining the last of the tea in a single mouthful.

“You know,” He says, setting his empty cup down on the table. “One of my coworkers was asking about you earlier.”

“‘Coworkers’,” You snort at his choice of language, earning a reproachful poke in the side as punishment. “Come on, just admit that they’re your friends.”

“Fine,” He sighs. “One of my friends, then - Mammon, the one that Lucifer’s stringing up all the time.”

“The one with white hair?” You recall, thinking back to the group photo that Simeon had sent you a while back. “He’s the Avatar of Greed, right?”

“That’s the one,” Solomon nods. “Apparently he never noticed that I was married.”

“Well, you can’t really blame him,” You say, giving him a playful nudge. “Honestly, the way you keep your mouth shut, you’d think I was some shameful secret or something.”

Solomon looks scandalised by the very idea - it had only been a little joke, but his eyes flash with such affront that it’s almost as if someone has genuinely called you such a thing. “Of course not! I’d never—”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, I was joking,” You cut him off before he can get more riled up. Solomon calms down quickly once you set a comforting hand on his knee, though he still looks a little indignant. “I know why you don’t like talking about us much, but really, it’s okay. They’re your friends, aren't they?”

He hesitates, then nods, releasing another deep sigh soon afterwards. “I suppose. There isn’t much I can really do about it at this point anyway… according to Simeon, most of them have somehow figured it out already.”

“They’re probably a lot smarter than you give them credit for, Sol,” You hum, reaching up and brushing a stray lock of hair out of his eyes for him. “They’re demons, after all. They’ve lived even longer than us.”

“Believe me, they really aren’t.” Solomon shakes his head, a frown pinching at his brow at the very memory of the amount of things that his coworkers have done recently - some of the most notable being Diavolo setting an entire flock of geese free in the courtyard for an ‘experiment’, Levi quite literally throwing himself out of a window just to win a bet against Mammon about who could get down the stairs faster, Asmo causing a stampede in the main hall by dropping and shattering a bottle full of a powerful aphrodisiac potion that became even more powerful once released into the air, and Lucifer accidentally breaking one of Solomon’s favourite cauldrons when he’d transformed into his demon form and inadvertently smacked halfway across the room it with one of his upper wings.

“I’d really love to meet them some day,” You sigh, swirling the contents of your mug around. “They sound like fun.”

“Trust me, the trouble isn’t worth it—” Solomon attempts to reason with you, but he gives up laughably quickly as you pout at him in protest. “Oh, fine. But don’t blame me if you get sick because of the charm again.”

“We don’t have to use the charm,” You shake your head. “Just do a teleportation spell!”

“You know that that’s risky,” Solomon sighs, chucking you under the chin and leaning forward to kiss the tip of your nose. You laugh as he draws back again, a pleased smile rising on his face at your reaction. “We could end up anywhere.”

“You’ve teleported them a bunch of times, though, haven’t you? And you haven’t ended up in Texas or the Sahara Desert any of those times!”

The resemblance to his earlier conversation with Mammon and Simeon is almost uncanny. “That’s different. I was still teleporting them within the Devildom, not across an entire realm barrier… and besides, I can afford the risk with them. You’re a different story.”

You pout again, shoulders dropping in defeat, though it doesn’t escape Solomon’s notice that his sentiment seems to have appeased you at least a little. “...guess we’ll just have to use a transportation talisman, huh…?”

“That’s your only option if you really want to visit, yes.”

You go quiet for a moment or two, nose wrinkling and face scrunching as you think it over. Solomon doesn’t mind the lack of conversation - he entertains himself by studying your features, wondering for perhaps the millionth time how he managed to find someone like you.

Finally, a determined look rising on your face, you nod and proclaim, “Then I’ll do it!”

Solomon cocks his head slightly to the side. He can’t say he’s surprised by your eagerness, but he had expected it to take you longer to make up your mind. He opens his mouth to say something, but tou answer his question before he’s even asked it, a skill that you’d managed to pick up within the first year or so of knowing him.

“I really wanna see what you actually get up to when you work,” You explain, looking a little sheepish. “You’ve had a job there for nearly two years and I’ve never even said a word to the people you work with.”

Solomon laughs. “It isn’t usually a requirement in the workplace. Wear appropriate uniform, bring any equipment you need, introduce your husband to your coworkers within the decade…”

“Still, I’d feel bad if I didn’t at least meet them,” You say. “Besides, I want to see Simeon as well. You said he’s working down in the Devildom for a bit as well, didn’t you?”

“Why are you so eager to see him, huh?” Solomon’s tone is light and teasing, so you know not to take him seriously as he puts on an hurt expression. “I’m offended. Your dear husband’s right here and you’re thinking about some angel.”

“Oh, stop it, you,” You shake your head in slightly exasperated amusement as he runs a finger down his cheek in lieu of a tear. “You know it’s not like that.”

“Isn’t it?” He pulls an exaggeratedly petulant face and pretends to turn away like an upset child. “Sometimes I feel like you love him more than me.”

“Simeon’s a lovely guy, but you’re still the only guy for me, you doof,” You tell him, tapping fondly at the cheek he’s turned to you with your free hand. Solomon obligingly turns back around to look at you, a grin pulling at his mouth. “Why would I marry you and then stay here for two thousand years if you weren't?”

“I guess I always assumed it was out of pity or something,” He jokes in response, leaning forward and briefly brushing his nose against yours. “And, just so you know, you’re the only guy for me as well.”

“I’d better be,” is your lighthearted reply as he pulls away. After a moment, looking at him expectantly, you begin tentatively, “So…?”

He sighs, but gives you a smile nevertheless. “I’ll ask Diavolo. He probably wouldn’t mind if I brought you without asking first, but Lucifer definitely would.”

“What’ll we do if they hate me?” You ask. “Do demons actually eat humans?”

“They wouldn’t dare,” He replies firmly. “Not if I have anything to say about it. Besides, they won’t hate you. I doubt anyone could.”

You laugh and drop your head to rest on his chest. “You’re too nice to me, love.”

Solomon turns to wrap both his arms around your shoulders, setting his chin on the crown of your head. You smile into his jumper, looping your own arms around his waist and pushing yourself closer to him.

“I’m not just being nice. Honestly, [Name], you’re kind of the most perfect man in the universe.”

#obey me #obey me imagines #obey me x reader #swd solomon #swd mammon #swd simeon #solomon x reader #reader insert #male reader #fluff #domestic sorcerer husbands #planning on turning this into a series if i can haha

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oh-for-fic-sake · 3 years

Text

The Deal Pt 2

Masterlist

Summary: Clark take you to august to finish the deal.

Warnings: Adult Situations +18, Smut, Dub Con, BDSM, Toys

A/N: second part to @wolfieash ask which is here

Taglist: in reblog.

Smut below the cut.

"NO IM NOT GOING ! AND YOU CAN FUCK OFF!" You yelled chasing Clark into the living room arms cross and lips pulled into a snarl.

He rolled his eyes at you, you'd been throwing a fit all day.

"Sweetheart, you made a deal, gave him your word... you cant go back on it" he insisted once more trying to convince you.

"Yes I can it was my word! Not yours, I can do what I want!" You huffed blowing some hair out of your face it was hard trying to be serious when your hair seemed to want to stick in your mouth.

"No poppet I'm not letting you break you word , now get dressed we leave in a hour" he said quickly spinning you around pressing you to the bedroom door.

"Fuck you, I'm not going anywhere!" You grunted pulling away from him.

"Tonight love I promise, now go get ready august is expecting us..." he said grinning almost sweetly at you.

"I don't give a flying fuck! I'm not going" you stomped a foot at him finally making his brow twitch, jaw tightening in irritation.

He stood taller and let his frame seem to devour the space on the hall making you shrink, shivering as you watched your sweet fiancé become a great predator. A loin or bear?

"Sweetheart enough! Now go get dressed...I laid out your outfit" he ground out severely finally having enough. A deal was a deal... and he wanted your ass!

"Out fit? What outfit-OH MY GOD WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT!?" You cried entering your room seeing the shear fabric

"That? Its a little body stocking~" Clark said leaning on the door frame arms crossed wearing a huge grin.

"IM NOT WEARING A FUCKING BODYSTOCKING!"

"Well I would if I were you because if not there will be images of your naked ass being flown about on the front pages tomorrow~" he quipped with a smirk.

"Yo-you wouldn't dare!" You said voice loosing its bite as he stared at you.

"Wouldn't I? I mean come on love anal's on the line~" he teased and moved up behind you and slapped your bottom hard enough to make you yip and jerk away.

"Now hop to it... You've got 50 minuets~" he called over his shoulder as he exited the room.

In the end Clarks threat of having you mooney metropolis was too much of a threat and you'd showered and slipped into the body stocking...

But you didn't shave! If they were gonna push through with your whole sex for silence deal then they would live with the consequences! No bare pussy for either of them!

Fuck'em.... or don't? Which was preferable

It wasn't that you didn't enjoy it, it was that you did... a little more then you should have! It frightened you the way you'd enjoyed being used and fought over.

"Oh come on why the long face angel?" August hummed as he opened the glass doors on his rooftop home, the penthouse was shiny sleek and as dark as the man himself.

"Fuck off august!" you grumbled walking right passed him as soon as Clark put you down

"Oh such a foul mouth! We will have to teach you some manners~" the agent quipped as you entered the bare but masculine space, everything was harsh lines and fucked up art pieces of splotching blocky shades of black, red and deep violet.

"Yes she's very snippy today... has been all week, pouting" Clark huffed shrugging. Taking the offered crystal glass with amber liquid.

"Ah we have a brat on our hands then?" August chuckled and walked through the home quickly snagging one of your elbows and directed you to the playroom, not wasting any time.

"Yeah, she doesn't want me to fuck her ass" Clark summarized with a shrug.

"Aww Why not sweety? You loved me fucking your ass? You cried and withered moaning so beautifully~" august hummed into your ear as he pressed you over the threshold into a large windowless room, strip lighting igniting the room in a light red. The devils den so to speak.

"Sh-shut up you prick" you snarled.

Augusts reply was a tsk and he pressed you over to a padded sawhorse and looked to Clark nodding to the ankle and wrist cuffs.

Clark breezed past him quickly securing you down making you curse him, but by this point it was a formality as you had already soaked yourself through.

"Oh would you look at that? Our little brat is eager~" august said with a chuckle and a warm hand probed you lightly making you jolt and try to squirm away.

"Yes I know, she likes denying herself, its strange she knows we will win but Continues to fight?" He said coming around your side ghosting his fingers over your ribs making you shudder.

"Well lets not waste time shall we? I have a few things out ready but first lets get this fitted shall we?" August said menacingly walking around you brandishing a very large O ring gag.

"After all if she's going to throw a tantrum I don't trust her not to bite" he uttered moving towards you.

"I've never thought of using one of those before... it wont hurt her will it?"

"Only her pride Clark trust me even she needs a... dressing down every once in a while" august reassured him.

Your eyes grew wide as the agent approached with the large gag that looked both threatening and enticing, things had been kinky with august but you hadn't ever gone this far into bdsm before. You were scared and still fighting but not as hard? You were curious and being dominated by them last week had... changed you. It had been thrilling to be so out of control.

"Should we... give her a signal or something? Incase it gets to much?" Clark quizzed, he was still all for it but wanted to be mindful of you. He didn't want to hurt you.

"Trust me she's going to love it, but in the case of something going wrong" august directed his attention to you befo4e continuing.

"There is a small desk bell one the inside of the left leg on the saw horse... if thing get too much hit it three times fast and we will get you down" he said seriously.

You frowned as his gaze bored into you, for a second you believed you saw actual concern in his eyes.

It unsettled you, August couldn't really have any feelings towards you could he? I mean this was blackmail!

You nodded quickly to him letting him know you understood.

Then just like that August was haughty again and quickly fixed the gag in your mouth, setting your teeth in the small grooves that was semi comfortable.

"Shes ready when you are~" the agent hummed and stood back.

Clark darted behind you and helped himself to you and august disappeared from sight.

You moaned into the room as your fiancé roamed your folds as if exploring them for the first time.

He was rougher then usual prodding and impaling you fast and hard before slowing and drawing your own arousal over your presented ass.

You withered as Clark used you body, pressing you higher and higher making you teeter on then edge then back away letting you calm down only to work you up again.

"I thought we could... try something... a little bonus for all of us tonight~" you heard august but couldn't see him.

"I'm listening" Clark said as he plunged his fingers back into you harder throwing off your concentration making you cry out.

"I have this" you tried seeing what August had but was too preoccupied with the maddening strokes of clark's fingers as he pounded away at your g-spot forcing you to try and rock on him chasing a high he had already cruely denied you twice.

"What even is that thing?" Cark said not paying attention to you as your body twisted and pulled trying to cum like a desperate whore.

"Here ill show you~" august said and Clarks fingers disappeared from you making you cry out and moan, your pussy tried holding him but it was to drenched to actually grip him.

Then something was pressed into you, large wide and very short.

"Oh-oh fuck?!AH!" You yelped awkwardly around the gag as the toy settled, curved forward and down pressing on your gspot without being held. There was a large flat expanse resting outside of you to, the toy curved in a large C shape.

"Does that go up her?"

"No no, we just pop her little clit in here~ and press the button!" You jerked as august moved you, thick fingers prodding your clit and sat the engorged nub into a small round dip and pressed a button.

You squealed tensing all at once as you felt a suction on your clit and roared.

"Holy shit?" Clark said in awe watching as you keened and tried throwing you weight around on the toy that was held in place by your muscles clenching to it so tightly... It was bittersweet in a way, your own body holding the sweet torturous device on your clit.

"And it gets better, press that one" you hear a small click and arched moaning out as the egg like shape inside of you came to life vibrating against your insides.

Clark watched entranced as you withered this is what he'd been missing out on? Fuck!

August darted around you and strokes you hair watching as Clark stripped behind you unable to wait any longer as you thrashed about trying to rock into the toy.

"Shh shh thats a girl, now deep breath your wonderboy may be a little too enthusiastic if your doing all that squirming~"

You froze feeling Clark poise himself at your well lubed ass then grunted as he thrust forward splitting you open.

Clark hissed and moaned loudly as the vibrating egg not only made you quiver and tense around him already threatening to flood the place but it also rubbed his cock as he rutted you.

"Oh fuck- thats amazing! I cant- I shit babe!?" Clark didn't wait he immediately began pounding in to the tight quivering body before him.

August chuckled once more before releasing his own belt buckle. Not wanting to let your wails and monas go to waste.

They would work wonders on his cock, offering the sweetest of releases as you screamed onto his cock as he lodged it into your throat.

August was never into men, but he could develop a thing for corrupting this huge perfect man.

For now August would let you and Clark think you were in control of the deal. Let this one final night play out.

But the seed was sewn and before long he knew Superman would return wanting to explore more and more of this little sex dungeon. And then he will strike another deal.

Because August wasn't opposed to making a little compromise to get decent pussy. If he had to share with Supes so be it, it looked like he could teach the kid a thing or two and he would gladly, because he had many more toys to tease you both with~

If things went to plan he'd have not one but two desperate little subs. And he couldn't wait!

#henry cavill #clark kent imagine #august walker x reader #clark kent smut #august walker smut #superman smut #superman imagine

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kiirokero · 3 years

Text

Outro: Love is Not Over (14)

Pairing: Daycare Teacher! Hoseok x Single Mom! Reader.

Genre: Single Parent! AU, Teacher! AU, Hybrid! AU, Fluff, Angst, Adorable Kids,

Warnings: Swearing, if that needs a warning

Word Count: 2.8K

Note: AFK :’) Oh my god please don’t let this suck in the morning

Summary: Years after a relationship goes south. You are the single mother of a beautiful 6-year-old golden retriever hybrid who you named Yunho. He is the light of your life. Yunho is everything to you, and you’d do anything for him. But you’re a human. Yunho doesn’t care, he will tell you he doesn’t. “You’re still my Eomma. No matter what.” He says. But you can’t help but feel like you will never be enough for him. You can’t be the mother he deserves. You can’t show him the ropes of being a hybrid, and you can’t teach him things the other moms can. But you try. You try your damn hardest. So, when a handsome German Shepard hybrid comes into your life, helping you and guiding Yunho in a way you can’t, you can’t help the cozy home he sets up in your heart.

Chapter Guide:

Previous / Next

Masterlist

It had rained the previous night.

Nothing drastic, but it was enough to make the forest around me and Hoseok dewy. Occasionally, a spare raindrop would fall from the leaves above onto Hoseok's head and he’d squeak in surprise, looking up at the culprit tree with a pout and lowered ears. Every time. It was endearing. The way his eyes lit up at any pretty flower we would pass, how he smiled so widely when he put one of them behind my ear, how he vowed to protect me from any scary creatures that lurked in the forest. (If I was being honest, Hoseok was the only one worried about that)

I came here because I sorted out my feelings and was ready to let them spill, but now I’m second guessing myself. If perfect didn’t exist, then why is Jung Hoseok here? Why is he by my side, rambling about the “macaroni art disaster” that happened last Tuesday, and why am I listening with a smile on my face? Why is he here with me? I spent years chasing after a “perfect life” with a man who didn’t give two shits about me, just to have perfection on legs waltz into my life and wiggle into the heart of not only me, but my son too.

I was a broken mirror. Still functional, aesthetic, and usable, but compared to the crystal chandelier that was Hoseok, I was nothing but that annoying piece of glitter that’s follows people around since their arts and crafts day at Kindergarten. Why would the crystal want the glass when the crystal is pure perfection?

Jung Hoseok shattered the image of perfect I had in my head and replaced it with a prettier one. Perfection used to be having a nice house, a nice family, living a debt free life. Perfection was the expectations forced upon me by my family at a young age, and I rolled with it out of fear of disappointment. Then Jung Hoseok showed up with his pretty brown eyes and lovable personality and rocked the boat saying,

“Perfection isn’t perfect. Perfection is what makes you happy.”

Perfection is what makes you happy, and god did Jung Hoseok make me the happiest I’ve been in years. I wanted to bottle that happiness up and cuddle it to sleep. Every single second he was with me I was happy, and I used to hate it. Now I can’t imagine my life without it...

“Hoseok, when I asked if you could watch Yunho, I wasn’t expecting to come home to this.” I chuckled. Both Hoseok and Yunho looked like deer caught in headlights, but I could see the small itch of a smile on Hoseok’s face. “But Eomma! I had a sore throat,” Yunho whined, his lips stained blue and his face was slowly turning red.

“And popsicles cure sore throats?” I asked playfully. I wasn’t mad, no, because I knew that even if Yunho ate popsicles now, he’d still scarf down his dinner. No problem. “...Mr. Hoseok said it would,” Yuhno snitched.

Hoseok gasped in faux offense, getting a giggle out of the younger hybrid. “I feel betrayed!” He said in an overly dramatic voice, causing Yunho to laugh harder. I couldn’t help but laugh along with them

Perfection isn’t perfect. Perfection is what makes you happy.

“Did he fall asleep?” Hoseok asked, looking down at Yunho who was currently lost in dreamland, drooling on my shoulder. “Mhm, I guess all that playing at the park tired him out,” I chuckled, kissing Yunho on the cheek, making sure not to jostle him too much.

Hoseok looked at us fondly, the slightest of smiles on his face. “What?” I asked with a smile of my own. Hoseok merely shrugged, “The two of you are cute, that’s all,” He said, looking down to kick a rock that was on the sidewalk. I blushed, holding Yunho just a tad bit tighter. “Thank you,” I said. Hoseok looked back at me.

“You’re a wonderful mom,”

“I like to think so,”

It’s what makes you happy...

“I can go. You don’t have to feel like you need to keep me here,” Hoseok offered gently. The moonlight that shone through the drawn curtains of the living room illuminated his warm features perfectly. The slope of his nose, the curve of his eyes, the upturn of his smile. I wonder what Michelangelo was thinking when he sculpted Hoseok. Probably something in Italian.

I grabbed his hand, dragging him back to the couch. “No, you can stay. If you want to, of course... I’d like to chill with you,” I said with somewhat trembling hands and an erratic heart. “You would?” He asked, stars painted in his eyes. I nodded, sitting down on the couch. Hoseok immediately took the space beside me, one of his arms on the back of the couch behind me and the other on his lap.

Hoseok sighed, “Adult time,” He joked. “I’m a single mother. My ‘adult time’ is my nap time,” I chuckled, sinking down into the cushions. “Hmm, well, if that’s the case, should we put on a movie until you fall asleep?” He suggested, one of his brows raised. “What about you, though? Leaving you to explore my own dreamland is a bit rude, don’t you think?” I asked, raising my brow as well.

“Then let me ask a followup question. Is it okay if I crash on your couch for the night?” He asked cheekily, as if he knew that I couldn’t refuse him. “Hm, I guess,” I sighed sarcastically. I was unable to hide my smile though. “Great!” Hoseok exclaimed, taking the blanket that laid next to him and draping it over us, snuggling up to me. “Is this okay?” He asked.

“Y-yeah... This is okay,”

The pancakes I made in the morning with a giggly Yunho and a smiling Hoseok tasted sweeter than normal.

Perfection isn’t perfect. Perfection is what makes you happy.

And I hoped I could be selfish just for today to secure my happiness for tomorrow.

“Y/n, are you okay? Earth to Y/n~” Hoseok called in a singsong voice, poking one of my arms, dragging me out of my flashbacks. Startled, I nodded with a hum, nervously twiddling with my fingers. “Mhm,” Hoseok chuckled, “We’re here.” I looked at our surroundings, realizing that I left Hoseok in awkward silence all the way through the trail. (It wasn’t awkward, Hoseok thought it was comfortable)

I gasped, “O-Oh! Oh... we are,” Hoseok smiled, grabbing my hand and leading me off the trail into a small clearing of vibrant green grass and small white daisies. He put down the basket he had in his hand and pulled out a cliche red checkered picnic blanket. “Cheeseball,” I giggled. Hoseok stuck his tongue out at me playfully, obviously proud of his blanket choices. He laid it out on the grass, making sure it was prim and proper before turning to me with a beaming smile, encouraging me to sit down.

I did as he silently asked and sat down on the blanket, thankful to give my legs a break. It was soft, I noticed, perfect for taking a nap in the afternoon sun. Hoseok plopped down next to me, his tail furiously wagging back and forth as he pulled out various different food containers from the basket. “So, I may have gone a bit... Overboard... But I just wanted to make you at least one thing that you’d liked.” He smiled, unashamed of his actions and more satisfied, like he was overachieving on a school project. “Hoseok, I’m sure I’d call your PB&J’s gourmet,” I chuckled, taking a hold of the chopsticks he was offering me.

Hoseok laughed along, opening the first container and placing it in between us. It looked like Kkakdugi. “What if we taste test each dish and decide on our favorites? Then we can eat those,” He suggested, and I nodded along. I’d honestly go along with anything he’d say. Hoseok picked up a piece of radish, holding it up to my lips. I leaned away for a second, cocking a brow. “Here,” He said, pressing the food to my lips again. I relented and let him feed me the radish.

I sighed, closing my eyes and basking in the sweet and slightly spicy taste. “If everything is this good, I’m going to have to hibernate for a year after this,” I said, somewhat seriously, somewhat jokingly. Hoseok laughed, falling back onto the blanket in a fit of giggles. “We’d better get on it then,” He said.

“Not to be mean, but how do you burn kimchi?”

Hoseok covered his face in embarrassment, rolling on his side so he didn’t have to look at my teasing smile. “I don’t know! I mean, maybe the burnt taste was something else,” He argued back with a pout. We were currently full and happy, laid on our back and looking up at the orange sky, pointing out oddly shaped clouds. And talking about how Hoseok managed to burn Baechu-Kimchi.

Also, avoiding the entire reason I asked Hoseok to hang out with me today...

It was hard! No matter how many times I practiced in the mirror the previous or hyped myself up in my head, he would smile or laugh or say something in that sultry voice of his, and my mind would blank. I was fighting with the mini Hyejin on my shoulder that was acting like a furious grandmother, constantly pulling at my ear and saying, “Dumb dumb, just spill it,”

“Hey, are you okay?” Hoseok spoke up suddenly. I turned my head towards him, catching his pretty brown eyes immediately. His soft brunette was falling over his face gently, occasionally moving whenever the breeze blew through. “W-What?” I asked, shaking myself out of whatever trance he manages to put me in whenever we lock eyes.

Hoseok chuckled, his dark brown ears twitching slightly when a leaf landed on one of them. “You’ve been out of it a lot today. Also, I can tell you're anxious,” He said, “What’s bothering you, buttercup?” He asked, and I felt my ears heat up at the pet name. Stupid Y/n just speak words, you’re literally a journalist. “Um, I just have some things on my mind,” If this were a drama, and I happened to be the main character, fans of the show would probably be screaming at their tv screens right now.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Hoseok asked. “I should, I really should,” I sighed. I could tell my words confused Hoseok, but he left a space for me to speak nonetheless, giving me a smile of encouragement. Just say something, anything. Alright, okay. 1... 2... 3... Go! “I wish I met you 6 years ago,” I blurted out, backtracking once I realized what I said. “No... 5 years ago, cause then I’d still have Yunho,”

Hoseok giggled slightly. “And why’s that?”

“Because then life wouldn’t have been as hard...” I answered honestly

Hoseok had a baffled look on his face. I looked back up at the sky, distracting myself with the pretty formations of clouds and let my subconscience do the work and talk, finally letting it all out. Hoseok’s ears stood at attention when I opened my mouth again. “It's always been Yunho and I... Him and I against the world.” I started.

“Like his cartoon?” Hoseok asked.

“Like his cartoon,” I smiled.

I took a deep breath. “It’s obvious that my last relationship didn’t end well, and that it still effects me to this day... I remember even swearing to myself that I would never fall in love again, but then... This Jung Hoseok dude came along,” I snickered, pretending I was alone and this was another practice run. It made things easier. Hoseok stayed silent. “He came along with his handsome face, warm smile and amazing personality. God, he even made me jealous sometimes...”

“I’m sure there’s no reason to be jealous.”

“Oh, but there is. He’s amazing, absolutely amazing. Not just because he memorizes all my favorites or makes it his mission to make me smile, but because he’s amazing with my kid. He’s amazing with my kid in a way that I can’t be.” I stressed.

“What do you-”

“Human mom and hybrid son, I mean, those are total opposites,” I joked, cutting Hoseok off. “Often times I would second guess myself as a mother and worry if I was teaching Yunho the right things but then Jung Hoseok came in and eased my worries. He took Yunho under his wing and the both of us couldn’t be happier,” I rambled, unaware of the blinding smile Hoseok was shooting at me. “We both don’t know what we would do if he drifted away one day,”

“He won’t”

I finally gathered the courage to look at him. If the stars were in his eyes before, then andromeda was in them now. His dimpled smile and wrinkled eyes melted my heart. “Yeah, that’s why I’m saying all this in hopes that he’s picking up what I’m putting down,” I mumbled. “What are you putting down?” He asked. “That Jung Hoseok stole my heart and I’m not mad about it.”

Hoseok suddenly stood up, reaching his hand down to offer me help up. I quirked a brow. But Hoseok eased my worries with a simple “Trust me,” I put my hand in his, and he enthusiastically pulled me up, causing me to fall into his chest. He steadied me with his hands on my waist, and I looked up at him, still confused. “I wasn’t done, ya know,” I pouted. “Well then, continue,” He chuckled.

“I was saying that Jung Hoseok should know about my insecurities and emotional baggage that he would have to deal with if he wanted to be with me,”

“It’s not ‘dealing with it’ It’s accepting your flaws as a part of you, and I love every part of you,” Hoseok said, leaning closer into me.

“Love?”

“Mhm, that’s what I said.”

Hoseok leaned in even closer until we pressed our foreheads together. Neither of us said anything, we just looked into each other's eyes, comfortably this time, with nothing but the forest ambiance to break the silence. “I’m telling you, Jung, there is a lot of baggage,” I sighed somberly. “And I’m willing to help you cope with it,” He said. “I have a kid, Jung,” I pointed out, subconsciously trying to find any deal breaker now rather than later.

“I know, and he’s adorable.” He smiled. “That doesn’t make you feel weird?” I asked. Hoseok shook his head. “Not at all. When I said every part of you, I meant it Y/n,” He stressed, bring up one of his hands to cup my face. “You’re so nice it’s annoying sometime,” I joked, leaning into his touch. Hoseok merely laughed.

I don’t know how it happened.

Or why I didn’t realize it.

Slowly but surely, we leaned in, looking each other in the eye until mine closed. I felt Hoseok’s soft lips on my own only moments after. It was like breathing for the first time. The feeling that erupted in my chest was addictive. I could already tell that much. If I was freezing, this kiss would warm me up. If I was hurt, this kiss was like ice on a wound. This kiss was pure relief. Relief that I finally spoke up, relief that I didn’t chicken out.

Relief that I could finally be happy.

Hoseok’s lips were like saccharine marshmallows created by the gentlest of deities. The heart shape of them fit perfectly against my own, like our lips were lost puzzle pieces needed to create the perfect picture of happiness. His earthy forest scent filled my nose. It used to be calming. Now it was downright hypnotic. His hands felt like warm embers against my skin, surrounding me in a shroud of warmth and comfort.

I gripped my hands in his coat, pulling him even closer than he already was. I wanted to feel nothing but his warm embrace. I felt his lips curve into a smile as he kissed me deeper, bringing me farther into his trance. My knees were on the verge of buckling, but I willed them to stay still so I could savor this moment just a bit longer. Just a bit more.

Hoseok pulls away slightly to let out a sigh that hit my red lips. We were still pressed close. The slightest of breezes could blow me over and his soft lips would be on mine again. “Look at what you do to me,” Hoseok whispered, looking me in my eyes with his lidded ones that were filled with adoration. I was confused for a minute before I felt something soft hit my leg. I looked down, holding back a giggle when I saw Hoseok’s tail swinging madly, faster than I’ve seen it go before.

“I’m happy too,”

“You knew I had a crush on you, didn’t you?”

“I mean, I'm a hybrid so I can smell it...”

“Embarrassment can’t begin to describe how I feel,”

“Aww but it was cute.”

Tag List: @kurochan3 @mrcleanheichou @anonymous-armys-blog @bella-raina @purelyecstacy @lindsayjoy444 @unicornbabylover @xicanacorpse @creatorspalace @thesweetest-peas @fangirl125reader

#bts #bts fic #bts fanfic #hoseok #jung hoseok #jhope #bts jhope #hoseok x reader #jung hoseok x reader #jhope x reader #hobi #bts hybrid au

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kuroo-shitsurou · 3 years

Text

Bestfriend (College!Childe x College!Reader) PART 1

note: hello! i'm going to be making an entire college au series for the genshin characters ehe. this is a pretty lengthy one so i had to cut it into two parts. i hope you enjoy!

word count: 4.4k

"Why can't I get this shit to work?!"

You checked the clock.

3:28 AM.

Great. You had a half-seven morning class with professor Cyrus, and yet, here you were. Baking cookies at 3:28 AM. Although, baking wasn't really the appropriate term for it. Maybe... burning was a better fit.

You weren't a culinary arts major; Far from it, actually. You were in a college course that needed immense analytical and critical thinking skills: Accounting. You loved your course. You were always amazed by how numbers can always add up properly if you analyzed all the transactions properly beforehand. It also gave you more patience to thoroughly understand each problem presented to you so that you'd end up with the right answer in the end.

Which is why you were so dumbfounded when your cookies looked like pieces of charcoal the moment you took them out of the oven.

You followed the recipe, didn't you? Why don't your baked goodies look like those gorgeous gooey chocolate chip cookies on the website?

That was the... fourth batch of cookies you made that night. Frustrated, you carelessly threw the still-hot baking sheet in the sink. You didn't even mind that there were crumbs and burnt cookie residue in your damp sink. Like, there were burnt cookies on your counter, on your dining table, and even on your stovetop. Why be bothered about the sink, right? You could clean it up in the morning, anyway.

"Why am I even doing this?" You sighed, eyeing how there was a bit of black smoke coming out of your oven. You opened a window and fanned it out to prevent the smoke detector from going off. You didn't need more nuances adding to your already dwindling patience.

Taking in the sight of the flour, sugar, and egg-coated workstation you had, you realized that baking just wasn't your forte. If only your boyfriend was interested in receiving his complete financial statements for the year, then maybe you'd have an easier time in thinking of a present for his birthday.

You looked at the calendar.

July 20th.

It was the day of Childe's birthday.

He informed you yesterday that his friends had invited him to go to a party the night of the 20th to celebrate his birthday, and you politely declined his offer for you to be his plus one. Of course, he was disappointed. You could notice by how his cerulean eyes drooped to the floor and how his thin, pink lips pushed themselves into a pout.

"But... You have to be there, _____." He whined, taking your hands in his.

"I know, Childe. But you know that I have to review my presentation for professor An's class. It's going to make or break my term grade." You were disappointed. You wanted to spend the entire day with Childe, maybe cuddled up in bed, eating hot pizza and watching Netflix. However, you knew how much he loved partying and hanging out with his friends- Kaeya, was it? and the other boys in their fraternity. You disapproved of his frat-boy party-going lifestyle, but you didn't want to impose, so you just kept it to yourself.

"But it's my birthday," He reasoned, voice laced with sadness.

"I know, darling. I know. We can still spend the entire afternoon together before you head out to party with your friends... If you want. You're free for the entire day, right?" Your voice faltered a bit, unsure of whether he'd accept your proposal or not.

"Mhm! I'd be more than happy to spend the whole afternoon tomorrow with you, babe. We can hit the amusement park, or maybe watch a movie, or maybe have a picnic, or..."

As Childe continued to ramble on about all the possible plans you could do tomorrow, you couldn't help but smile at him. How his demeanor changed, and how he could never seem to hold a grudge against you even if he was upset. He spoiled you so much and you wanted to let him know that you appreciate him as much as he loves you.

And... Here you were.

You didn't expect baking to be so hard. You thought that following a simple recipe would lead to a great outcome the first time around.

Look how that turned out for you. Your tokens of appreciation for Childe were there. In the sink, on the counter, on the dining table, and on the stovetop. All burnt and inedible.

"Fuck this baking thing, I'll just get Zhongli to help me before lunch." You muttered, taking off your apron and retreating to your couch. You didn't want to sleep in your bed because your clothes were still messy, but you were too tired to clean up (too pissed to even care, to be honest).

And so, you flopped on the couch and set an alarm for 6:00 AM before you drifted off to sleep, dreaming of burnt baking pans and noisy smoke detectors.

The annoying sound of your alarm rang in your ears like a never-ending mockery of how your life is going. Why do morning classes exist? Why do alarms exist?

You groggily rubbed your eyes and rolled off the couch, landing on the carpet with a soft "thud". You blindly felt around the coffee table to look for your phone. Upon feeling the silicone texture of your case, you pulled it towards your chest and squinted your eyes as the bright display of the lock screen glared against your eyeballs.

You opened your phone by using the passcode (0720, go ahead and guess what that means) and tapped on the green message icon to open your texts. You then quickly typed out a message for a certain history major.

[ Hey, Zhongli, mind if you help me out before lunch later so I could bake some cookies for Childe? ]

Sent 6:04 AM.

You looked up at the ceiling and waited for a while, already planning out your itinerary for the day. The ding! of your phone was heard, waking you more than you already were.

[ I don't see why not. I have a vacant period right before lunch. I'm off at 9:00 and I'm vacant until noon. Are you free then? ]

Received 6:06 AM.

You couldn't help but grin. Zhongli was so kind. He was Childe's friend since high school, and although you found him somehow... creepy because of the knowledge he possesses (Seriously, was his brain implanted with a computer chip or something?), you still considered him a good friend.

[ Thank you so much! Yeah, I only have one class today anyway. I'll meet you in front of the main building by 9:00. ]

Sent 6:08 AM.

You got up from the carpet and stretched for a bit, wincing when the small burn on your arm stung. You had a few cuts and burns on your hands, fingers, and arms because of how clumsy you were in the kitchen, but it was fine. Who doesn't fuck up from time-to-time

You headed to the kitchen to clean up. You dumped all the burnt biscuits into a large garbage bag, wiped the counters, and put the dirty dishes in the dishwasher. Most of the mess was already gone and disposed of, and you whispered to yourself that you could probably deep-clean later that evening after reviewing your presentation.

The ding! of your phone brought your attention back, and you smiled at Zhongli's response.

[ I'll see you then, _____. I appreciate you doing all this for Childe. ]

Received 6:15 AM.

You quickly made your way to your bedroom and grabbed different pieces to throw together a decent outfit. You assumed that Childe wouldn't let you go by the time that your little date would begin, so it's best to be prepared.

You hopped in the shower and did your morning routine, making sure to use your favorite body wash, which happened to be Childe's favorite scent. You dried your hair afterwards and threw on the outfit you prepared earlier. You checked your phone.

6:45 AM.

There weren't any new messages from Childe, so you assumed that he was still asleep. After all, it's his day-off from uni. The lucky bastard got to get one whole day without lectures, and the freest day you had still required you to attend one morning lecture.

"I have to rush to McDonald's if I want to make it in time," You whispered, grabbing your bag and slipping your shoes on before rushing out the door.

You wanted to buy Childe a nice breakfast before heading to your own class. So, you sprinted to the McDonald's just a corner away from your dorm and stood in line. You ordered his favorite breakfast meal: A big breakfast deluxe set with hot chocolate, five-piece nuggets, and a side of apple pie. You also ordered a McGriddle for yourself that you could sneakily bite out of in class.

Childe's apartment was right beside the McDonald's you went to, so it wasn't any trouble reaching where he was. You checked your phone again.

7:10 AM.

Crap. Twenty minutes until your lecture with professor Cyrus. Childe still seemed to be asleep, so you decided to leave his breakfast with the receptionist, Verr Goldet. She already knew who you were because of how often Childe invites you to his apartment.

"I'm really sorry to leave this with you, Verr. But I have to get to class in twenty minutes and I think that Childe is still asleep." You said sheepishly, placing the paper bag on her counter and fiddling with the strap of your bag.

"Oh, _____, you act as if I'm a stranger!" She laughed, taking the paper bag and placing it behind her. "Don't worry, I'll keep it warm for him. Would you like to leave a note?"

"Ah, yes please!" You took a piece of paper and a pen from your bag and scribbled a short message for the ginger.

Happy birthday, Childe! Have a hearty breakfast, I got your favorites. I'll see you later for lunch, okay? I love you! ♡

You tried to make your handwriting as neat as possible, and even added a messy doodle of the man himself. Although, it did look more like a potato than the man you were trying to draw.

"How cute you are." Verr sighed, "It must be nice to feel the wonders of youth."

"Thank you so much, Verr! I really have to get going if I want to get to uni in time."

"You're welcome, _____!"

You bid your farewells and headed out of the apartment's lobby, walking towards the shuttle stop nearest to you. You had at least fifteen minutes before professor Cyrus' class. The shuttle was about ten minutes away from uni, and it would take you a little over five minutes to get to his lecture hall. While waiting for the shuttle, you quickly tapped out a message for your boyfriend.

[ I left something with Verr for you downstairs. You better get it as soon as you wake up ♡ ]

Sent 7:15 AM.

The shuttle arrived as soon as you hit send. You showed your ID to the driver and scrambled for a seat, shoving earbuds in your ears to drown out the rest of the world with a bit of music. Fortunately, the shuttle ride was quicker than usual since there were lesser stops for that day. You gave a light bow to the driver before you rushed out of the shuttle doors and bolted to get to your lecture hall.

It was on the third floor of the left wing of the main building. You were desperately trying to catch your breath as you felt a burn rising in your lungs. You wanted to puke because of how hungry and tired you felt so early in the morning, but you brushed it off.

You sprinted down the hallway to professor Cyrus' lecture hall, seeing that nearly all the seats were occupied. There were still a few vacant seats at the back, but you were glad to see your friend, Xingqiu, waving you over from the middle row.

"Thanks for saving me a seat," You thanked your blue-haired friend, fixing your hair and disheveled clothes. You sat down just in time as professor Cyrus walked into the lecture hall and began setting up his laptop to present.

"No worries. I knew you'd be late. It's Childe's birthday today, no? You've been talking about it all week. I already expected that you'd do something for him this morning." He said, not even batting an eyelash as he carefully opened his laptop in front of him.

"That predictable, huh?" You chuckled, placing your own laptop on the table and taking out the McGriddle you shoved in your bag earlier. Professor Cyrus seemed to be tweaking a few things on his presentation, so you decided to use the spare minutes to eat the sandwich you purchased.

You scarfed it down in a few bites, leaving Xingqiu confused and a bit scared. He thought you were going to choke.

"Didn't you have breakfast before you left your dorm?" He asked, marveling at how you managed to eat the McGriddle in- four, maybe five? bites.

"I mean, I bought this," You said, motioning to the crumpled up wrapper in your hand. "It was getting late since I dropped by Childe's apartment to leave him his breakfast."

"How charming of you, _____." Xingqiu chuckled, slipping on his glasses.

"I wonder if he's awake now," You mumbled, loud enough for Xingqiu to hear, but he didn't react to it.

You opened your phone and saw seven messages from your dorky boyfriend.

[ _____ you're gonna make me cry ]

Sent 7:28 AM.

[ Where are you now? Are you already at uni? ]

Sent 7:29 AM.

[ God, I love you so much, _____! You even got me nuggets!! ]

Sent 7:30 AM.

[ I love you sooo much!! You're so cute it's unreal!! Btw, is this supposed to be me?? Do I really look like that??!! ]

Sent 7:31 AM.

[ I'm so lucky to have you, _____. You really are the sweetest!! ]

Sent 7:31 AM.

[ I'll see you later at noon. I'll pick you up at your dorm, okay? ]

Sent 7:32 AM.

[ You must be in class now. Good luck!! I'm already eating. Thank you so much, darling! I love you!! ♡ ]

Sent 7:34 AM.

You couldn't help but smile at how his aura radiated even through the screen of your phone. You clicked on the notification from Instagram and it opened to a video on Childe's story. It was a boomerang of him making a winky face and then showing his meal neatly placed on his table.

There was a caption beside a heart sticker which read:

What a great way to start my birthday. Thanks to my lovely @_____. I love you so much! ♡

A familiar warmth spread throughout your chest and you couldn't help but smile at how sweet he was. It was amazing, really. Childe's words and actions always had such an effect on you, and it didn't even matter how you were the one who did a romantic gesture for him because you were here all blushy and gushy over his sickeningly sweet messages of affection.

You put your phone away as soon as professor Cyrus soon started his lecture on the different trading policies limited by oversea regulations- or something like that.

The lesson itself was interesting, but you couldn't help to nod off and daydream about your wonderfully dorky boyfriend and his beautiful eyes, his cute button nose, his slim cheeks, his pink lips.

Childe sneezed.

As soon as the last bell rang, you quickly gathered your things and shoved them in your bag. You nodded a swift goodbye to Xingqiu before running off to the entrance of the main building.

Zhongli messaged you that his lecture ended earlier than expected, and that he was waiting for you by the entrance already.

You saw the brunette sitting on one of the benches, a thick history book in hand and reading glasses firmly sitting on top of his nose. You noticed a few girls just a couple of feet away from him. They were eyeing him up, probably drinking in the sight of this beautifully constructed creature.

You chuckled. It was common for you to be more aware of people fawning over Childe and Zhongli. They were a couple of incredibly hot males, you knew that. You got used to the sight of other people gawking and eye-fucking your boyfriend and his bestfriend that it was just hilarious and amusing at this point.

"Zhong!" You called, earning the attention of both Zhongli and the group of girls.

"Ah, _____. Glad you're finally here." He closed his book and tucked it away in his satchel (This man owned a satchel) before he stood up to greet you.

"Were you waiting long? Sorry." You said sheepishly.

"No, not at all. I was enthralled by this one chapter on the Ming Dynasty and their more underrated feats. History never fails to amuse me." Zhongli replied, a glint sparkling in his amber eyes.

"Hey, um," You inched yourself closer to him, "Mind if we go on ahead? Some of your fangirls are scaring the hell out of me." From the corner of your eye, you could see how they were drilling holes at your head from staring too hard. You could've sworn one girl was even holding her phone up, as if taking a photo.

"What?" The taller man whipped around to look at the girls and they scurried off upon seeing the intimidating glare in his eyes.

"You and Childe really attract attention everywhere you go, don't you?" You chuckled, walking towards the shuttle station.

"Childe, certainly. He, along with his... fraternity brothers do attract quite the crowd whenever they are together. As for myself, I doubt it. I'm more of the silent-type compared to him, anyway."

"Are you kidding me?" You bit your tongue to hold back the thought.

"I see."

"Those girls look familiar, though." He mentioned.

"Oh? Maybe history majors as well?"

"_____, if they were history majors, I would've at least recognized their faces more clearly. I feel like I've seen them somewhere."

"Ah, my bad. You and your eerily accurate memory." You teased, climbing onto the shuttle and sitting on one of the empty seats.

"It is not eerie, thank you very much." He retorted with a snarky tone, joining you on the seat.

"Of course it isn't. You remember what I said to Childe when we were watching that one movie Rex Lapis: Revenge of the Fallen?"

"Indeed I do. You said, "Rex Lapis would be hot if he was a human, don't you think?" and Childe replied, "Yeah, but I could probably beat him up. I'd be way hotter than him." It was comedy, really. Rex Lapis, although a fictional figure, has far more capabilities than Childe could even dream of."

"Do you... not see the eerie part of that?"

"What? That Childe thinks he can beat up an actual Archon?"

"No... Zhongli, we watched that movie three years ago."

"Your point is?"

"...I can't even remember what I had for lunch yesterday."

"Childe bought you some sushi."

"See what I mean?!"

"That means you have a poor memory, _____." Zhongli laughed at your face curling into a frown. "Anyway, while you were entertaining me with your banter, I recalled why those girls are so familiar."

"Do tell."

"They're part of Childe's posse."

You could've sworn your heart leapt to your throat. You knew that your boyfriend was pretty much sculpted by the Archons themselves, but, really? a fucking posse?

Zhongli noticed how the lump in your throat bobbed, and he decided that it was better to calmly explain how and why he knew about it.

"See, it was during the first year of university. Childe started hanging around Kaeya and his other fraternity brothers. There was this one occasion where Childe was nearly black-out drunk in a bar. If I didn't see on Kaeya's Instagram story, I wouldn't have known," You noticed how Zhongli's face visibly darkened, "These girls were hanging off him like koalas to a strong tree branch. It was unsightly."

"I... see."

"Although he was about to pass out, he pushed them away. Charming, really. He was already crazy about you even during the first year of uni. Even though you weren't together yet, he didn't want to "cheat" on you by entertaining other females." A soft smile made its way to your face upon hearing Zhongli's confession about how your boyfriend felt about you.

"I'm determined to make these cookies a success," You said determinedly.

"Glad to hear it. It seems we're already at your dormitory. You still have enough ingredients for the cookies, right? I assume you failed quite a few times yesterday."

"How did you even know?"

Zhongli once again laughed as you stepped off the shuttle, "Lucky guess."

Unbeknownst to the two of you, three figures were following you the moment you left the campus.

"_____ is so sweet! They got my favorite breakfast this morning." Childe mindlessly gushed over his significant other.

Diluc wasn't really one to listen to other people ramble on and on about feelings and love and romance, but it was his friend's birthday. He'd let it slide.

"Bro, that's just gross," Kaeya spat, taking a chug of his beer.

"Oh, shut up, Kaeya. Just because you don't plan on committing to anyone doesn't mean the people around you are obligated to do so as well." Diluc rebutted, without even looking up from his journal.

"You're in college. It's the time when you're supposed to have a shit ton of flings, no commitment. And yet you're here being loyal to _____?" Kaeya glared at Diluc, but the redhead only flipped him off.

"I don't see the problem with that." Childe spoke up, toying with the bracelet on his wrist. It was a gift from you during your first anniversary. You said you made it yourself, and although Childe could purchase all the expensive jewelry and accessories he wanted, this particular bracelet meant more to him than anything.

"The problem is _____'s going to hold you back!" Childe knew that Kaeya was half-drunk and it was still before noon, so he didn't really take his words seriously. "They aren't going to the party later, right?"

"No, unfortunately. They have to review a presentation for professor An's class."

"Hah! Review my ass. If I knew any better, that little toy of yours is just messing around with some other dude."

"Watch yourself." Childe stood up from his seat. He knew that Kaeya disapproved of their relationship because it wasn't really a "frat-boy" thing, but he didn't care about that. He cared about you more than a stupid reputation, and definitely more than a stupid lifestyle of partying, getting high, and getting drunk.

"Back up, softie. _____'s pussyness rubbing of on 'ya?" Kaeya's words were slurred, but Childe knew that there was malicious intent behind them.

"Look, I don't care about what you say about me. Call me a softie? Call me a pussy? I don't really give a shit. But the moment you start shitting on my _____? Don't even consider that I'd just stand around and let them be slandered, you piece of fuck." Childe was a few centimeters taller than Kaeya, and he always used that to his advantage when he wanted Kaeya to understand his point.

"Whatever you fucking say. It's your birthday, I'm not gonna fight with you on your birthday." Kaeya lightly pushed Childe away from him before downing the rest of the beer can in his hand.

"Don't mind him," Diluc spoke, staring into Childe's eyes. "He never thinks straight, whether drunk or sober."

"Yeah, I kinda got the message." The ginger chuckled, watching as Kaeya nearly tripped over his own feet while walking towards the case of beer supposedly for the party tonight.

"I'm glad that you and _____ are still getting along. It's refreshing to see normal people once in a while."

"Well, when you put it that way." Childe could only laugh.

"Where's the tall brunette at? Isn't he always with you?"

"Ah, you mean Zhongli? I don't know, actually. He has a lecture this morning and I wanted to meet him for a light meal before lunch, but he isn't answering my texts."

"I see."

As if on cue, Childe's phone emitted a soft ding!

He typed in his password and the screen faded into a photo of you. You were wearing one of his hoodies (it was way too big on you) and he could've fainted because of how absolutely adorable you looked.

He received a few Instagram DMs from Ellin. Ellin was a member of their posse. Childe would rather refer to them as "fraternity friends", but she insisted otherwise.

[ You're seriously praising _____ for being a good partner? Poor you, dear. ]

Received 9:41 AM.

He frowned.

[ What are you talking about? Mind your business. ]

Sent 9:42 AM.

[ Oh? It's not my business, sure. But you might wanna see this. ]

Received 9:44 AM.

[ 3 Images Attached ]

Received 9:44 AM.

Childe's eyes widened. Ellin sent three photos.

The first one was a photo of you and Zhongli standing awfully close to each other in front of the university's main building.

The second one was of you and Zhongli sitting beside each other in the shuttle.

The last one was... you and Zhongli entering your dormitory building.

"What the..."

He checked his messages to see if either you or Zhongli texted him about the ordeal. However, he was only greeted by messages wishing him a happy birthday from some of his family and friends back in their hometown. No messages from Zhongli, and no new ones from you.

"What the hell?"

He quickly typed out a message for his bestfriend. He didn't jump to conclusions; He trusted both of you, but what was this feeling in his gut? It felt icky, gross, and disgusting.

[ Where are you rn? Answer me. ]

Sent 9:46 AM.

His foot tapped against the floor at a rapid pace. Diluc wanted to question him, but the worried look on the ginger's face made him bite his tongue.

Childe wasn't the type of person to jump to conclusions, nor was he the type of person to get upset immediately over trivial things. But upon receiving an irksome reply from the amber-eyed bestfriend he knew and love, his blood began to boil.

[ None of your business. ]

Received 10:05 AM.

#genshin #genshin impact #gi #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #gi x reader #childe #ajax #tartaglia #childe x reader #tartaglia x reader #ajax x reader #im gonna fucking cry i love this ginger man so much #genshin childe #genshin tartaglia #genshin fanfic #genshin ajax

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alltooreid · 3 years

Text

Dancing With Our Hands Tied

In order to keep Y/N safe from danger, Spencer vows to keep their relationship a complete secret from everyone they know. However, as their romance gets more serious, Y/N and Reid begin to realize that no matter how in love they are, they may have been doomed from the start.

A/N: Back at it with a hopefully very angsty fic! This is of course inspired by the Taylor Swift song, but you don’t need to be familiar with the song to read and enjoy! Also I made a playlist for this one shot, which you can find here (its best if you listen to it in order and of course you don’t have to listen as you read, but if you enjoy that kind of thing, I thought it would be fun). Additionally, in order for the timeline of this fic to make the most sense, I’m choosing to ignore the Lauren Reynolds subplot, because trying to incorporate it and explain it would be distracting and unnecessary in my opinion. Thanks for reading!

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem! Reader

Type: Angst

Word Count: 3.9K

Content Warnings: Some cursing, general fighting angst, discussion of pregnancy, brief mention of abortion (follow up is left intentionally ambiguous, based on your own desires and beliefs you are allowed to decide where that aspect goes (pro choice tings))

“I, I loved you in spite of Deep fears that the world would divide us So, baby, can we dance Oh, through an avalanche?”

Spencer Reid hated funerals.

Somehow he felt he was always invited to one, and no matter how hard it was for him to be there, he always made every effort to go. So when Hotch had to plan Haley’s funeral, Spencer knew he had to go, no matter how much he would hate it.

He looked down to the grass as his supervisor cried over his now dead wife, the most emotion he had seen from him ever. He refused to look up and watch, although there were at least a hundred people there to mourn Haley, this moment felt innately private to Hotch. Spencer didn’t think it was his place for his eyes to intrude.

So he stared at the lawn and got lost in his own mind.

Right then and there he realized he never wanted to go through what Hotch had to go through. No matter how many philosophers described love in the most beautiful, enchanting way, Spencer didn’t want it anymore.

He didn’t want to go through a heartbreak, because how worth it could it be?

Of course, all information he had in his repertoire pointed to the claim that it was worth it. Yet he couldn’t pay attention to Oscar Wilde, trying to tell him that “hearts are made to be broken,” or E. A. Bucchianeri screaming that “grief is the price we pay for love.”

All he could see at that moment was the most stone-faced man he had ever known, breaking down in front of everyone he knew over the woman he loved.

At that moment Spencer Reid vowed to completely give up on love. He would become the best profiler to ever live. People would compare him to Jason Gideon, but Spencer Reid would win every time. Spencer wouldn’t let himself be like Gideon and get so hung up over a person that he couldn’t ever work anymore.

So when Spencer left the funeral and went to bed that night, he was confident that he would sleep alone like that forever. It was comfortable like that and he was happy. Who needs to be in love?

Not Spencer Reid that’s for sure.

Well, until three months later, when Spencer Reid met Y/N Y/L/N.

She was beautiful, and Spencer knew he wanted to get to know her the first time he laid eyes on her.

But he was doing such a good job recently…. Even Hotch was impressed with his work ethic. The only one who had talked to him about his lack of emotion was Penelope, she seemed concerned when Spencer told her he didn’t want to meet let alone go on a date with the cute nerdy barista from her go to coffee shop. Spencer refused to reason with her, he was too focused on proving himself to Hotch and the rest of the team.

Even though in the back of his mind, Spencer knew he had already proven himself to the rest of the team, now he just needed to be good enough for himself.

A truly impossible task.

But he was still trying to do it, so he didn’t talk to the barista at the new coffee shop he was trying.

He wasn’t expecting her to try and talk to him. Maybe that’s why he was so willing to give up his own reasoning.

“That’s a lot of sugar, sugar. Are you as sweet as your coffee?” she said, giggling as she did it. She knew the line was cheesy and stupid but she had been eyeing Spencer Reid since he came in and knew she needed to get his attention. Luckily, he couldn’t help but laugh.

Their first date was right then and there. They got distracted and talked till closing, Y/N’s coworkers noticing she was actually putting herself out there and deciding to pick up her slack so she could continue.

“So are you going to call me Dr. Reid or were you just leading me on for 3 hours?”

“Of course I’ll call you, how else am I going to get you to watch Doctor Who?”

Y/N smiled, “Well I know this is kind of forward, but I have this art exhibit tomorrow, I would love to see you there. But don’t over think that! I’ve invited pretty much everyone I know. I have a bet to win amongst the other art students, whoever has the most people come to see them wins one of those giant Costco sheet cakes. I need that sheet cake Spencer.”

Spencer smiled, “Well, I am from Vegas . . . Maybe I could help push the odds in your favor.”

“Well I can’t wait to see you there. Tomorrow, 6 pm, I’ll text you the details.”

It was only when he laid down to sleep that Spencer remembered his philosophy on love, but strangely, he did not care.

He may have been trying to freeze his heart, but Y/N was coming in with a blowtorch.

And he didn’t mind. In fact he unlocked the door to let her in.

So when he arrived at work the next morning, he fully intended on going to her art show. He thought about what flowers to bring her. . . was this a date? Was last night a date? Were roses too strong a message? He couldn’t do anything red, it was too forward. Pink? What if she saw it as stereotypical because she’s a woman, maybe she hates pink?! Yellow Tulips were safe, but if he got her yellow tulips then she would think they were just friends and Spencer didn’t want to be just friends.

His internal debate was interrupted by none other than Penelope Garcia, but not to interrupt their paperwork day with a case, but to make an announcement to the bullpen.

“Hello my loves! I have an interesting idea for some team bonding tonight, my favorite barista and dear friend has invited me to her school art show. Of course she needs the most support humanly possible, so you all need to come with me and look at cool art!”

“Who’s this friend of yours Penelope?” JJ asked.

“Oh Jayge you’ve met Y/N! She’s lovely and I’m sure an incredible artist. You guys will all love her!”

Suddenly Spencer remembered Hotch and his broken down faces at Haley’s funeral. He remembered his philosophy on love and his fear of heartbreak.

But he also remembered how alive he felt with Y/N. How the way she laughed like a little kid and how that made him feel giddy. He remembered how she was always so interested in what he had to say. He remembered that he really liked her.

And at that moment, Spencer realized that he did not have to choose between being in love and keeping his heart safe from the devastating heartbreak of seeing his true love die. He realized that the reaper could only find Haley because Hotch let people know they were together Because everyone knew of Hotch’s wife, she was in constant danger.

Maybe if he kept Y/N secret he could still be with her.

“Spencer! Did you hear me?”

“No, um sorry Garcia what did you say?”

“I asked if you were going to come to Y/N’s art show, you know you too would make such a cute couple! You should totally come.”

“I actually can’t, I’m not feeling well.”

She sighed, “That’s what you said last time I tried to get you two together 187 . . . Do you want to talk about anything Spencer? You haven’t been yourself lately.”

“I’m fine, I just have a headache. I don’t want to go out tonight.”

She rested her hand on his shoulder for a second, before following Morgan to the kitchen. Spencer knew she was going to say something to him, but he didn’t care. He had found the perfect solution to his conundrum.

And he knew exactly what flowers to send to Y/N.

Y/N texted him thirteen times, and waited an extra hour after the open house closed in case he showed. So although she went home empty handed, one person away from enough cake to feed fifty, she received a call from Spencer Reid.

“Hey, where were you tonight? I was looking forward to seeing you.”

“I’m sorry Y/N, something came up, but I have something for you! Are you still there?”

“Oh no, I just got to my apartment. I can send you the address.”

“I’ll be over as soon as I can.”

And five minutes later Spencer was at Y/N’s door, with Chinese take out and white peonies, a flower known for its apologetic symbolism.

Y/N blushed, “You didn’t have to bring me flowers Spencer . . .”

“Well I wanted to bring some to your show, but I figured this could be the next best thing . . . And maybe we could eat some of your Costco sheet cake afterwards. Sounds like a balanced meal to me.”

“Although I love that idea, I unfortunately came home tonight sheet cake-less.”

Reid frowned, “How close were you? Would I have made any difference?”

“Oh no!” Y/N lied, “I was way off, don’t even worry about it.” She smiled, “I’m just excited that you're here right now.”

Spencer blushed and looked down at his feet, “Well I’m excited to be here.”

Four months after that night, Y/N asked Spencer a seemingly stupid question while they were eating take out at her apartment. “Spencer, I love takeout and all but we haven’t gone out in public together since the first time we met. . . Call me stupid but I’m starting to wonder if you don’t want to be seen with me.”

Spencer sighed, “Y/N, it’s not that it’s just . . . complicated.”

“I just don’t get it. Am I the second woman or something?”

“No! Absolutely not! You are my one and only flower,” he said, smiling and then leaning in to kiss her nose. She giggled in response, but quickly remembered the serious nature of their conversation. “Y/N, you know what I do for a living.”

“I don’t understand what that has to do with anything.”

“Not too long ago, my boss was targeted by a serial killer who made it his mission to make his life miserable. In doing so he killed his wife. I just . . . I don’t want that to happen to you Y/N. I think I’m falling in love with you, and I can’t put you through that.”

“Spencer . . . I love you too.”

So no matter how badly Y/N wanted to tell her family, or update her Facebook status, she respected Spencer, and although she didn’t completely understand his concerns, she wanted him to be happy.

So she spent ten more months like that, catering to Spencer Reid’s peace of mind. Pretending to smile as he told her stories of all the funny things his team members did, all about their partners, and their love lives.

A couple times now, Y/N asked Spencer if she could meet them, but Spencer always shot it down. When he first mentioned the idea of keeping their relationship a secret, Y/N had secretly hoped it would be one of those things that was forgotten about within a week or two. But no. It had been many, many weeks, and Spencer still didn’t want to be seen in public with her.

And by now that was all she wanted. To go on a real date, to introduce him to her friends, to actually be able to tell her coworkers that something did come from that guy she hit it off with.

Everyday, Y/N felt she did the same exact thing, she went to work, would come home and if Spencer was still in Quantico, she would convince him to come over. (They had been dating for over a year now, and Y/N had never been to his apartment. She didn’t even know where it was). If Spencer did come over, he would usually bring some kind of dessert with him, and they would talk and be merry in their own little secret oasis. A couple weeks ago, Y/N started to get this uncomfortable, uneasy feeling that encompassed her whole body, her whole being. Every part of her was trying to tell her that Spencer Reid was not the man for her. And even though she was still very much in love with him, she agreed.

Although she loved Spencer for the person he was, the man who brought her every different flavor of cheesecake from the bakery across town (one a day for fifty nine days straight), the man who begged her to make him a painting for valentines day instead of buying him a present, the man who cried when she did and laughed when she did and-

There were a lot of things to love about Spencer Reid, but there were a lot of things to hate about their relationship.

She hated the time she bought a gold locket in the shape of a heart, and put a picture of them in it so she could keep him with her all day long, and he made her return it because it could fly open and someone could recognize him. She hated the day she came home with a little beige kitten named Betsy and Spencer made her give Betsy to her sister so that he wouldn’t get cat hair on his clothes and have to answer a million questions. She hated the time Spencer missed her birthday weekend because he had a case and couldn’t give an excuse to why he couldn’t go. She hated that Spencer was her entire life, while she seemed like just an inconvenience to his.

And most of all, she hated that she loved him so much. Because deep down she knew that she could never leave Spencer Reid, but she also knew that there was no way they could last if nothing changed.

Just then Spencer knocked on her door, she had offered him his own key many times, but he declined because he didn’t want anyone to see it on his key ring and ask what it was for. She let him in, and right away his fun perky smile dropped. “You’ve been crying. I can tell.”

“Is that the kind of thing they teach you in FBI school?”

“Yes actually, but that’s not the point,” he said, dropping his bouquet of red chrysanthemums on Y/N’s coffee table and grabbing one of her hands with both of his. “Talk to me Y/N.”

She sighed, “I love you Spencer, but I just don’t know if we can do this anymore.”

“What do you mean flower?”

“Spencer we’ve been together for over a year-”

“One year, two months and five days,” he corrected.

“Yes, yes that. We’ve been together for one year, two months and five days but no one except us knows that.”

“Y/N I thought you were okay with that, I just want you to be safe.”

“I thought I was okay with it but,” she paused, afraid of what she wanted to say, “I’m not Spencer, I don’t want to live like this anymore. I love you, and I want to be with you. To really be with you. What happens if we ever get married, do we have to get eloped, would you even let us get married because you need someone else to watch? When do I get to tell my mom I’m in a relationship? What if you get hurt out in the field, and no one has heard of me, let alone knows to call me, and we never get to say goodbye? How far do you plan on taking this?”

Spencer grew flustered, “Um, I- I don’t know? I didn’t know you were even thinking about those things.”

“Do you think about those things? Things like getting married?”

“You’re the love of my life Y/N, of course I do.”

“Well then something needs to change. We can’t live like this anymore.”

“Things will get better Y/N, I promise you, we’ll start small but I’m going to make this better for you. Actually, um we can start right now,” he started digging through his messenger bag. After a minute, he pulled out a smaller gold heart locket than the one you had originally purchased for yourself. “I, um I was going to give it to you for your birthday, but I feel like now is the best time. I couldn’t find the same one, but it’s the same picture inside.”

She teared up, “I love it. It’s perfect. Here, put it on me.” She turned around and pushed her hair to one side so that Spencer could clasp the delicate chain around her neck.

They kissed, and afterward Spencer spoke, “I hate to ruin this moment, but I’ve had to use the bathroom ever since I got here.”

Y/N laughed, “Ok go, I’ll be waiting.”

While waiting for her love to come back, Y/N admired her flowers. Ever since Spencer began to get her different flowers to symbolize different things she had developed an abnormal botany fascination. She would always beat Spencer to explaining the symbolism of her latest bouquet, so she already knew the red chrysanthemum was a symbol of prosperous, passionate love in most countries. However she also knew that in Italy, chrysanthemums were a death flower, given only at funerals.

Part of her couldn’t help but wonder if some unconscious part of Spencer’s genius brain was beginning to feel the same way she did. Three weeks later nothing much had changed in the state of Y/N and Spencer’s romance. She was still unheard of in the eyes of the BAU and two nights prior Spencer had stopped her from calling her mother to tell her about him.

And then Y/N discovered her sick, uneasy, all over body feeling was not just her incredible intuition.

She was pregnant.

She had taken a couple of tests a while prior and could just now get into the doctor to get it confirmed. But it was official. She was pregnant.

As soon as the nurse confirmed it she broke down crying. And when she asked her a couple more questions, she broke down even further. “Are you currently in a relationship?”

“No,” she sniffed.

“Do you know who the father is?”

“I don’t know,” she sobbed.

“Sweetheart, I don’t know where you want to go from here, but there’s a lot more options that you may think. Everything will be okay.”

Y/N still cried the whole way home.

She spent the rest of the day thinking about how to tell Spencer, and then overthinking what he would say.

She knew Spencer loved children, but he couldn’t even manage to tell people she existed, how was he going to explain a long term relationship and a baby?

It would have taken decades for Y/N to prepare to deliver this news, but Spencer showed up at 8:19 pm.

“Hi flower! How are you today?”

“I’m pregnant.” She blurted out, she was not planning to do it exactly like that, but she panicked.

“What?”

“I’m pregnant Spencer.”

He sighed and ran one of his hands through his hair, “You could get an abortion?”

Y/N lost it. “Are you kidding me? Are you fucking kidding me Spencer?”

“I don’t think a baby is going to be very easy to keep a secret Y/N.”

“Is this how far you’re willing to go Spencer? You want to keep me hidden so bad that you want me to get an abortion? Are you insane?”

“You’re right, Y/N, I’m sorry, we’ll figure something out.”

“No, you’re wrong there Spencer. I’ll figure something out.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I can’t do this anymore. I’m done. I love you but, please just get out of my apartment.”

“Y/N please don’t do this, I love you, we can make this work. I know I haven’t been doing the best job for these three weeks, but just give me a little time and I promise we can do this.”

Y/N wiped tears from her eyes, then reached her thumb up to Spencer’s face, wiping his cheek. “Spencer, it’s not a matter of how much I love you or you love me. Sometimes, things just aren’t made to work out. We gave it a good run, but no matter how hard we love each other, I don’t think either of us is happy.”

“But I don’t know how to live in a world without you in it, flower.”

“I’ve never been in your world Spencer, after tonight, nothing in your life will drastically change. You don’t have to worry about living in a universe without me because you’ve already been doing that for 15 months.”

“Please don’t do this, can we just give it another try?”

Y/N wrapped her arms around him, “That’s all we’ve been doing.”

The couple stayed in silence like that for a couple of minutes before Spencer spoke. “Can we just stay here for one night. I can’t believe I never got to do it.” Spencer had never spent the full night at Y/N’s place because he always worried that he would forget to answer his phone and the team would try to come to his apartment to tell him they had a case.

“You know we can’t do that Spencer,” she sighed, knowing she had to stay strong and act on her own best interest, but she also loved Spencer. “But you can stay here, if you want.”

He thought for a moment. “Okay, um do I need that key you always offered me? To lock up when I leave?”

“No, the front door locks automatically when you close it, you just have to make sure you have everything before you go.”

And so Spencer slept in Y/N’s bed, for the first time, without her in it.

And Y/N called the one person she knew Spencer would never try to track her down to to avoid exposing himself.

Penelope Garcia.

She of course let Y/N stay with her for the night, and although she would eventually, Garcia did not pry when Y/N said she didn’t want to talk about what was going on. So Y/N walked to her apartment with peace of mind, she knew that although she had a lot to think about, for the time being everything was going to be just fine.

On the way to Penelope’s apartment, Y/N saw a flower vendor. She couldn’t help but stop by and pick up a bouquet for Penelope, but more so for the symbolic meaning.

Daffodils and daisies.

The flowers of new beginnings.

“I'd kiss you as the lights went out Swaying as the room burned down I'd hold you as the water rushes in If I could dance with you again”

- Thank you for reading! Please reblog and let me know what you think :))

holly’s tiny taglist: @reidingmelodies @hercleverboy

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1d-discourseoftheday · 3 years

Text

Thurs 7 Jan ‘21

Z3 Z3 Z3 Z3 Z3 Z3 Z3!!! Firstly Zayn posted a teaser of a red curtain, labeled 'tomorrow', beginning to rise with a snippet of a song-- it's Vibez! Vibez is HERE! NEW ZAYN MUSIC! And hell yeah that's super exciting (and the curtain is reminiscent of the filming at the theater last month I'm hopeful we're about to get that video) but THAT'S not the half of it-- Z3 listings are UP! 'Nobody is Listening' (friend we are ABOUT TO BE and I CANNOT WAIT) is out Jan 15 and has 11 songs (titles unrevealed with the exception of Better, already released, and Vibez). The cover art is a painting of a bright colorful sea of staring faces; everybody looking, nobody listening? Spotify also has Vibez cover art- a cool blocky noir looking painting- and a new photo of Zayn smouldering in a tank top. Happy almost Zayn's birthday to US, and thank you very much!

Liam did a long live today with an also long BEARD (oh shush on his FACE you guys) to talk about Saturday's show, but then he ends up talking to Ben Winston for most of it which is, as you can imagine, a mixed blessing. I mean all that 1D reminiscing is great for dredging up unknown tidbits for us but otoh Ben: the part where Liam puts manager Steve on to say hi to Ben and it's just the two of them is the worst content I've seen in a minute and I mean... Holivia is current..? ANYWAY, before Ben, Liam has his cousin Ross on and tells us Ross will also have cousin Luke playing drums for him at the show Sat, and snippets of all the openers' music are played. They discuss accents, and Liam, as usual, says that he was just on the phone to Louis (relatable I too immediately think of Louis when discussing strong British accents). And then the Ben chat: they talk about the We Are 1D Family fan project at San Siro and how the band didn't know it was going to happen, Liam talks about not wanting to do the Leroy piece for the BSE video (“haha remember I had a meltdown but you made me do it!”:/), and they talk about the two Midnight Memories videos-- we learn that Ben didn't have anything to do with the scrapped first one so he can't release it sorry, and “you guys didn't like it so we had to make a new one in like a week”. Liam: “no I preferred the first one!”, lol. Ben talks shit about not liking You and I (no wonder he did her so dirty), Liam: “WHAT??” and “didn’t Zayn’s high note turn you on a little bit? It had to!” sksksjfa okay calm down there, and then he turns me into the 'had me in the first half' meme when he says his least favorite 1D song is I Would! CAN YOU BELIEVE. He quickly realizes though that no! He means I WANT! Yeah okay that makes more sense but jeez Liam, don't mess with me like that! He also says (not about I Would or I Want), “when I was younger I didn't really understand the songs as much as I understand them now, they mean so much more to me later on in life than they ever have done before, the feeling, the emotions that come through, the lyric as well for some of them.” Oh and Ben mentions the Grammy awards being pushed to March 14 which btw I forgot to say yesterday so there ya go. New date. And last but not least, new LP Act 4 merch! RAINBOW HOODIE! Omg it's so good! The rest is great too but that rainbow hoodie (uh 'hoody' that is hmm why) is soooo nice.

9 am PST came and went without a single Holivia pap pic, but don't worry (darlings) they were just a little late today, though you'll be excused if you didn't realize there were new ones, as they are simply more of the same batch as yesterday's- it was a very exciting parking lot after all, they needed a lot of documentation! Harry grabbing Olivia's arm SO AWKWARDLY is a gem though, I'm starting to have doubts that they're even really friends now that I'm seeing them interact so much tbh. I think the press time excitement was supposed to be the 'candid' pics of them drinking coffee together with Harry in the spa robe (taken... maybe you can guess... YES! it was over the weekend!) but aside from being memed they didn't seem to get much traction. Even so, the press is still all over Holivia ofc and if you only read one article about it PLEASE make it the Harper's Bazaar one that marveled at today's pics “Wilde happened to be wearing the same outfit from last weekend” oh SO CLOSE YOU GUYS, defensively states that Harry was wearing a mask (in response to the many articles out there about people being mad at him for not wearing a mask which yes are very much still up and not being suppressed by HSHQ, btw) but some enterprising layout person placed a picture of him without a mask right under that line, and tells us twice in a row that their relationship is 'very organic'-- definitely 100% truly oBvIOusLy ORGANIC, 'a source' says so. So you can see that clearly it's all very organic. In case you were wondering! STRONG honorable press mention for Vogue though, who declared that Holivia were “already 2021's most stylish pair” with a picture of Harry in his paint splattered merch hoodie and pushed up sweats; but then they also said the other day that larries were people “who ship Harry with Liam Payne”...hey Vogue I really recommend getting an intern if you're struggling, so helpful!

#liam payne #harry styles #zayn #most of my dash – ugh I have holivia blacklisted I do not see it anyway the chicken #me: ugh actual updates JUST LET ME MAKE FUN OF HOLIVIA PRESS ALL DAY #yeah I know not everyone is an I would stan but I' just prefer to believe everyone appreciates as much as me it's how it should be #I'm in the 'spoiled by Icarus Falls an actual epic work of genius' camp and I'm sad this one is comparatively short #but Z knows what he's doing I'm gonna bet it's perfect as is and I can't wait to hear it #I already love Vibez it's so pretty and soft #Liam to Ross- haha this is first time I've been on the phone to you in a few weeks when I'm not drunk. :/#he also talks about watching the San Siro gig drunk the other day #he does not however say he doesn't have access to any of his accounts he says he DOESN'T KNOW HIS PASSWORDS offhand #that he's just logged in on his phone but can't just tweet from another phone real quick while he's on live #I would say the exact same in that situation and despite tumblr oppressing me rn for the most part no one is controlling my accounts yall #it's NOT THE SAME THING he clearly states that he access to ALL HIS ACCOUNTS on HIS PHONE #Harry Lambert made a flagging joke not relevant to much just a reminder that yeah it's a real thing #and gay people def know about and about the significance of wearing bandanas #I mean the connection of the blue bandana to Louis is a whole other thing ofc but if Harry does mean that by that #he knows very well it isn't the only thing he's putting out there #probably why he steers real wide of ever putting in his pocket lol he truly said fuck your top bottom discourse #7 jan 21

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sequinsmile-x · 3 years

Text

Day-to-Day

Emily is the glue that holds the family together, aka five times the Hotchner family needed Emily.

A story in the “5 times + 1″ format.

Part of the Whatever Tomorrow Brings universe.

Chapter 1 - Amelia.

Read on AO3 via this link, or below the cut

March 2010

Aaron wakes to his bed being empty. He rubs his eyes, trying to remove the last remnants of sleep, and he turns to check the alarm clock, groaning when he sees it’s 3am. He touches the other side of the bed and feels that the sheets are cold, indicating that his wife had been gone for some time. Amelia had been off the evening before, their usually happy baby grouchy and sleepy. Which was always the first sign that she was coming down with something. Theo had been ill the week before, a bug he’d picked up from school, and Aaron had naively hoped they’d managed to avoid it being passed on to the youngest Hotchner.

He sits on the side of the bed and spots light filtering out from under the ensuite door. He walks over, opening the door to find his wife laying back in the bath, Amelia dozing on her chest. Emily looks tired, a small smile on her face when she spots him. “Hey.” She rasps out, staying quiet so she doesn't wake their daughter.

“Hey, sweetheart.” Aaron walks in and kneels on the floor next to the bath. “Everything ok?”

“She woke up about an hour ago, she had a fever. I thought a lukewarm bath might bring it down, but she started to cry every time I tried to put her in here herself.” Emily says gently, placing a hand on Amelia’s forehead. “It’s come down a bit.”

“You should have woken me up.” He says, placing a hand on their daughter's back. “I’d have helped.”

“It’s ok, honey.” She says placing her hand over his. “You need your sleep, work has been rough on you lately.”

“Right.” He says, with a raised eyebrow. “Because your job is a piece of cake.” Aaron links their fingers and runs a thumb over her knuckles. “You don’t have to do it all on your own anymore, Em. I’m here now. We’re all here.”

She purses her lips together and nods at him. It was still her instinct sometimes to try and do it all by herself, especially anything to do with the kids. Memories of those months spent alone waiting for Foyet to be stopped were sharp, and sometimes it still took her breath away. How close they had come to losing everything.

“Can you take her?” She asks softly. “She should be fine for now.”

“Of course.” He lifts the toddler off of his wife's chest and wraps her in a towel. Amelia wakes almost immediately, grumbling at being removed from her mother. “Let’s go get you dressed sweetie.”

He takes Amelia to the nursery and puts a fresh diaper on her, and a thin sleepsuit. He frowns at the warmth still on her skin, and soothes her when she starts to cry again. “I know what you want, you want Mommy.” He lifts Amelia into his arms and kisses her forehead. “I don’t blame you, I always want her when I feel sick too.”

Emily is already in bed dressed in one of his shirts when he walks back into their bedroom. Amelia immediately reaches out for Emily, the little girl's face already scrunched up as she cries. He passes Amelia over, lets his wife take him into her arms. “Mama.”

“You’re ok, sweet girl.” Emily says, running a hand over the back of her daughter’s head. She kisses her forehead and frowns. “It’s gone down, but she’s still warm.”

“We’ll call the doctor if she’s still got a temperature in the morning.” He says. Emily nods, settling Amelia so she is resting against her chest. The little girl's favorite place to sleep when she was sick or sad. “Sweetheart, you aren’t going to get any sleep if she’s in here.”

“I know.” She replies, soothing the small coughs coming out of Amelia by rubbing her back. “I’ll get someone to drop some case files and paperwork here tomorrow, work from here until she’s better.”

“And if you get a case?”

She glares at him. “Then I’m sure the team can handle it without me. It’s not like they haven’t before.”

“Sweetheart-”

“I’m not leaving her if she’s sick, Aaron.” She says, her voice firm. “She only settles for me if she’s sick and I’m not putting either of you through that.”

He knew his wife somehow felt responsible for his delicate relationship with his daughter. Things were better now, so much better, but he couldn’t say it didn’t hurt when Ameila, or any of their kids, immediately reached for Emily when something was wrong. The six months they had spent alone together had formed a bond he loved, but that he was also, in his worst moments, jealous of.

He wants to argue, wants to say that eventually something would happen with one of the kids when she wasn’t there, but he knows this isn’t the time. That it can wait until it isn’t almost 4am and she has their feverish daughter pressed against her.

“It’s a good thing your boss is so understanding.”

Emily smiles at him. “Well, I do repay his understanding with blow jobs so I think it’s earned.” _________________

May 2024

Ameila was Emily through and through. It was something Aaron, and just about everyone they knew, said frequently. She looked like Emily. She had her nose, her dark eyes and hair, and the same smile that had always been able to convince Aaron to do just about anything. Amelia had inherited her fathers jawline and his seriousness, her frown, a pure ‘Hotch’ look that Penelope had often joked would serve her well in whatever she decided to do in the future.

She also had Emily’s attitude. A need to know everything, to push all the boundaries around her, that often drove Aaron to the edge of his sanity in a way neither of his sons ever had. Elizabeth often commented on how similar Amelia and Emily were, and he never missed the way she smirked at him when she said it.

Emily was fiercely protective of Amelia. Aaron knew it was because their daughter was the only one of their kids who didn’t remember the incident with Foyet. She was so small when it happened, only a few months old when her family was torn apart by the actions of a psychopath, and they were grateful for it. Jack and Theo still bore the scars of what happened, years of therapy had done them wonders, but it still surfaced at times, almost unexpectedly. Leading to Theo calling in the middle of the night, the now 21 year old plagued by nightmares that his mother was dead, only calmed down by the sound of her tired voice over the phone.

The first time Amelia really pushes the boundaries with her parents is when she comes home one day with her nose pierced. The ring in her nose was massive, big enough to allow for the swelling that would follow, drawing her parents attention to it immediately.

“What the hell is that in your nose?” Aaron asks, annoyance clear in his tone.

“It’s a nose ring, Dad.” Amelia answers, her eyes rolling as she hangs her keys up. “I got it done after school.”

“And who said you could do that?”

“It’s my nose. I didn’t realise I needed permission.”

“Ok.” Emily interrupts, placing a hand on her husband's arm to try and diffuse the situation. “I think what your dad is trying to say is that you should run this stuff past us, ok?”

Amelia scoffs. “Well it’s your nose I inherited, surely you understand why I wanted to do something to it.” She walks past her parents and goes up the stairs before the conversation can go any further. “I have homework.”

_________________

Aaron walks into their en-suite later that night to find Emily standing in front of the mirror scrutinising her appearance. He leant against the doorframe and watched as she turned her head side to side, running her finger down the slope of her nose. Her eyebrows furrowed as she looked at herself straight on again, her finger pressed into the tip.

“Em?”

She turns to look at him, taking her hand away from her nose as she does. He doesn’t miss the shy look on her face as she wrung her hands together. “Do you think my nose is weird?”

He frowns at her. “What? No.”

“I know it’s ridiculous. I’m 53 for fuck sake.” She mutters to herself.

He kisses the tip of her nose and she smiles at him. “You’re beautiful.”

“And you’re ridiculous.” She wraps her arms around him anyway, pulling him in for a kiss. “It will look better when she can switch to a smaller ring.”

“It will look better when she just takes it out.”

Emily laughs, shaking her head at him. “Come on, let's go to bed. Some of us have work in the morning.”

He raises an eyebrow at her as he always did when she referred to his early retirement, even though it had been years since he left the FBI. “Whatever you want, sweetheart.”

_________________

The casual mention of a boyfriend, a boy from Amelia’s art class called Chase, almost sends Aaron orbital. He manages to keep his opinions to himself until Amelia has gone to bed and he’s just in the kitchen with his wife, helping her with the dishes even though it was long ago established as her chore since she never cooked.

“She’s not that bad, Aaron.”

He scoffs at his wife. “She’s going to make me go grey.”

“Honey. Amelia is a teenage girl. A pretty well behaved one in comparison to what I was like.”

“Suddenly I feel a lot more sympathy for Elizabeth than I ever have before.” He mutters as he continues to put dishes away.

“What was that?” She raises an eyebrow at him.

“Nothing, sweetheart.”

She narrows her eyes at him as she passes him another plate, patting his cheek with her spare hand. “You’re already grey, Aaron. It’s got nothing to do with the fact our daughter has a boyfriend. Or a nose ring.” _________________

Emily finally loses her cool two weeks later. They are eating dinner, just her, Amelia and Aaron, when she spots something on her daughter's wrist as she reaches for more salad. Emily grabs Amelia’s arm and pulls her sleeve back slightly to reveal a, admittedly very small, heart tattoo onto her daughter’s wrist. It was crude, slightly wonky and clearly not a professional one.

“What the hell is this?” She asks, staring her daughter down.

Amelia tears her arm out of her mother’s grasp and pulls her sleeve back down. “It’s a tattoo, Mom.”

“A tattoo? When did that happen?” Emily looks over at Aaron, who to her annoyance looked slightly amused that she was finally reacting like he had been all along.

“We did them at school.” Amelia answers, taking another bite of her dinner.

Emily’s initial reaction of telling her daughter how dangerous that was, how stupid, was drowned out by her overriding fear of who exactly had done this. “What do you mean ‘we’?”

“Chase and I did them. We have matching ones.” Amelia says, looking at her mother with a challenge on her face. “I don’t see what the big deal is Mom, you have tattoos.”

Emily glares at her husband when he chokes out a laugh at that, and he quickly excuses himself from the table. She turns back to her daughter. “Amelia, it really wasn’t very safe to do that. You have to let professionals do this kind of thing.”

Amelia rolls her eyes as she takes the final bite of her dinner. “Whatever.” She gets up from the table, already half out of the dining room before she speaks again. “I need to go FaceTime Chase.”

Emily puts her head in her hands as soon as she is alone. Her daughter was too much like her for her own good, independent and wilful almost to a fault. Emily loved that Amelia was like that, that she was so sure of herself in a way that Emily certainly hadn’t been at her age. She took it as a testament to her and Aaron’s parenting, but right now she was struggling with it. She just wanted to sit Amelia down and tell her that not everyone in the world had her best intentions at heart, and Emily had an increasingly sinking feeling that Chase was one of those people.

She blows out a breath and stands up, starting to collect the dishes from the evening meal. Emily hears her husband re-enter the room. “I’m going to get her some antiseptic cream to put on it. Who the hell knows where they got the needle they did it with from.”

“Emily-”

“She gave herself a matching tattoo with her boyfriend, Aaron.” She says, putting the dishes she had been holding back down on the dining room table. “They’ve been together for 8 weeks.”

He steps towards her and places his hands on her hips. “What was it you told me last week? That it will work itself out eventually.”

“She thinks she loves him, honey.” Emily lamented, allowing her husband to pull her into his arms. “And I know he’s going to break her heart.”

Aaron kisses her. “Sweetheart, we can’t protect her from that.” He kisses her again, cupping her cheek with his hand. “All we can do is be here for her if it happens.”

Emily rests her forehead on his chest. “Now who's being annoying ok about all of this?”

_________________

“This is where I found out I was pregnant with you.” Emily says offhandedly, a wistful smile on her face. It was so long ago now, but she still remembered the joy she had felt when she first saw Amelia on screen. The baby she had always been told she couldn’t have was now this amazing person she couldn’t imagine her life without.

Emily looks at her daughter when she doesn’t get a response, and she stops herself from laughing when she sees how pointedly Amelia is ignoring her. “Oh really, Mom?” She says to herself. “That’s so interesting.”

“Mom, I cannot believe you are doing this.” Amelia seethes, looking at the floor of the clinic they were in. Embarrassment coming off of her in waves. “This is so embarrassing.”

Emily rolls her eyes, and bites back a comment about how if she found birth control embarrassing then she should think twice about having sex. “I just want you to be safe, ok? You’ve got a boyfriend now and whilst I am not exactly delighted at the idea of you having sex.” She says, not missing how her daughter grimaces. “I don’t want you to take any chances.”

“Amelia Hotchner?”

Emily and Amelia look up to see Joanne standing at the door to her office looking expectantly at them. Emily smiles at her, Amelia does not, and the latter sighs as she stands up. She takes a few steps towards Joanne, only pausing when she realises her mother isn’t following her.

“Well you may as well come in. This was your idea after all.” Amelia says, annoyance colouring her tone. Emily sees past it, spotting the way her daughter nervously wrings her hands, fingers digging at her cuticles in a way she had picked up from her.

“Of course, sweetie.” She stands and walks up to her daughter, and guides her into Joanne’s office with a gentle hand on her back.

_________________

“You did what??” Aaron asks, seething, as they get ready for bed side by side in their ensuite. He turns to her, a disbelieving look on his face.

“I took her to get birth control.” Emily answers around her toothbrush, spitting into the sink. She rinses it and places it next to his in the holder.

“Why?” He is glaring at her, and she's suddenly more glad than ever that she hadn’t broached this subject with him until after Amelia had a packet of pills sitting in her bathroom cabinet, with very explicit instructions on the importance of taking it correctly from both Emily and Joanne. “Is she sleeping with him?”

“I don’t even know if she is having sex yet. But you know these things happen. I bought the boys condoms when they were teenagers.” She purposely misses out that she had also bought Amelia condoms, thinking that admission might make her husband's head explode. “I wanted to make sure she takes precautions if she takes that step.”

“She’s 15, Emily.”

“Yeah, and so was I.” She closes her eyes and sighs, turning to look at her husband as she crosses her arms across her chest. She looks at him and bites her lip, trying to figure out what she’s been wanting to say. “Aaron, I just don’t want what happened to me to happen to her.”

Emily can see the moment it registers in his head. The way his brow unfurls, his whole body unclenching as the anger seeps out of him, replaced by concern for her. He takes a step towards her. “Sweetheart…”

She shakes her head at herself, wiping a stray tear away that had fallen at the admission. “She deserves better than that.”

He sighs as he drags her into a hug, one she gladly returns, wrapping her arms around his back. “You deserved better than that too.”

Emily buries her face into his neck, breathes in the scent of him that had comforted her for more than half her life. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” _________________

Three days later it becomes a non issue. Amelia is out with friends, and Chase, leaving Aaron and Emily with the house to themselves.

Emily is sitting in her husband's lap on their couch. His hands up her shirt and his tongue in her mouth, when she hears it. A car door slamming on edge of her consciousness, someone running up the steps of their porch. She pulls back from Aaron, the dazed look on his face surely matching the one on her own. “Did you hear that?” She breathes out.

They hear a key in the door and break apart like they’ve burnt each other, both standing as the front door opens.

Amelia bursts in, tears streaming down her face. She drops her bag at the front door, her school things abandoned in the foyer of their home, and as soon as her eyes land on Emily her face crumbles. The steady stream of tears turning into sobs. “Mom.”

“Amelia?” She closes the gap between them, concern for her daughter overriding anything else, any lingering hopes she had of alone time with her husband gone in an instant. Amelia is in her arms in seconds, clawing at her shirt to try and get as close as possible. She buries her face into Emily’s shoulder and weeps. Emily cups the back of her daughter’s head, and runs her other hand up and down her back. “Oh sweetheart, it’s ok.” She soothes. “You’ll be ok.”

Emily exchanges a concerned look with Aaron over the top of their daughter's head and she shakes her head at him slightly when he takes a step towards them, silently asking him to leave it to her. He understands, just like he always had, and leaves them to it despite wanting to know exactly what has upset Amelia this much.

“Mia, honey.” She says gently, hand still tangled in her daughter's dark hair. She tries to pull back slightly, cupping Amelia’s cheek, but she holds on to her tighter, sobs still tearing out of her throat. “Let’s move over to the couch, ok?”

Amelia nods against her but doesn’t separate herself from her mother at all. Emily carefully guides her over to the couch and sits down. Amelia curls into her, wrapping herself around her in a way she hadn’t done in years. Emily wraps her arms around her, and whispers random words of comfort into her daughter's hair.

“Sweetheart.” She says gently, pulling away enough that she can cup Amelia’s face in her hands. She wipes tears away from her cheeks with her thumbs. “You don’t have to tell me what’s wrong, not until you’re ready, but I need to know if you’re hurt.”

Amelia shakes her head. “Not hurt.” She says, her words choked by her tears. She leans back into Emily, pressing her face into her neck.

“Ok, sweet girl.” Emily says the old nickname, one she hadn’t used since Amelia was 9 and turned her nose up at it, slipping out without thinking. She presses a kiss on her daughter's head. “I’m right here.”

It takes almost 30 minutes for Amelia to calm down, for her sobs to dissipate into sniffs and a hoarseness in her throat as she takes in ragged breaths. “He broke up with me.”

Emily frowns, holding her daughter impossibly tighter. “What?”

“Chase broke up with me.” Amelia says, pulling back so she could look at Emily properly. “He said I was boring.”

Emily covers her reaction to that, keeping her surprise away from her face. Boring was not a word she would have ever used to describe Amelia. She tucks some of Amelia’s hair behind her ear. “I’m so sorry, baby. I know you really liked him.”

Amelia snuggles back down into her, sniffing as she lays her head on Emily's shoulder. Emily runs her hand through her daughter's hair, soothing her as she finishes calming down. “What do you want to do?” Emily asks. “We could get Dad to go out and get Taco Bell.”

Amelia chokes out a laugh but shakes her head. “I think I just want to go to bed.”

“Whatever you want.” _________________

Aaron is pacing their bedroom when she enters it, softly closing the door behind her. He stops and looks at her, an expectant look on his face.

“He broke up with her.” Emily says. “She is heartbroken.” She hears how her own voice breaks as she tells him. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen her like that.” She shakes her head at herself. “The worst thing is when she told me what happened I felt relieved. She’s sitting there absolutely hysterical and I’m relieved?”

Aaron closes the distance between them and hugs her. “You’re a fantastic mom, Em. I won’t let you believe anything other than that.”

She chokes out a laugh, somehow still surprised after all these years that he was able to guess what was really bothering her without her saying it outloud. “You’re a pretty great dad yourself, Mr Hotchner.” Emily lets herself relax in her husband’s embrace for a little longer, she pulls back and looks up at him. “I’m going to go in and sleep with her tonight.”

“Ok, sweetheart.” He kisses her quickly before letting her go so she can get ready for bed. He watches as she pulls on pyjama pants and a soft t-shirt that once belonged to him.

Aaron admires his wife as she takes off her makeup from the day and puts her dark hair up, smiling as he catches sight of some grey flecks that she hates as she twists it into a bun. She never believes him when he says it, but he thinks she's more beautiful now than she was when they first met all those years ago. Emily had always been beautiful, from the 22 year old she was when they first met. Teasing smiles and flirty comments as she coaxed him out to a bar with her.

Emily always lamented aging, wondering where the time had gone. More self conscious now than she had been the entire time he had known her. All he saw in lines on her face that she thought made her look old was all the laughter and joy they’d had over the years. She was softer now, her hips wider, evidence that she had given him two of their children that made him find her even more attractive. The grey flecks in her hair, that he knew she’d get dyed again soon, that showed him just how long they had loved each other.

They had been together 31 years and sometimes Aaron felt every moment of it, every single thing that had happened to them since she kissed him at one of her mother’s events. It somehow also had passed in the blink of an eye, decades gone in seconds and he was still somehow lucky enough to have her by his side.

“You’re staring.” She says, pulling him out of his thoughts with an amused look on her face and a teasing tone to her voice.

He pulls her into his arms again, kisses her cheek, then her nose. Making her laugh as she tries to squirm away from him. “You’re beautiful.”

Emily rolls her eyes at him. “You’re ridiculous.” _________________

Ameila smiles shakily at her mother as she walks into her room. Emily walks over to her bed and climbs in on the spare side, settling down for the night. She lays on her side and looks at Amelia, tucking some hair behind her ear. “How are you doing, sweetie?”

Amelia sniffs, suppressing a sarcastic laugh. “I’ve been better.” She settles into her mother’s side, resting her head on her shoulder. In the darkness of her bedroom, with Emily’s arms wrapped tightly around her, she finally feels like she can admit the truth. “It’s because I wouldn’t have sex with him.”

“What do you mean?”

Amelia closes her eyes as she catches the tone in her mother’s voice, the dangerous edge to it that she was so rarely on the receiving end of. She had only ever really overheard it when she was talking to someone about work over the phone, or one the rare occasion her parents had a full blown row, their angry voices soon turning into other noises that Amelia thanked whoever was listening for the invention of noise cancelling headphones.

“That’s why he broke up with me.” Amela says, feeling tears build back up in her eyes. “Because I wouldn’t sleep with him.”

She feels her mother’s hold on her tighten, and the sharp intake of breath that she takes beneath her head. Emily kisses the top of her head. “You’re ok, sweetheart. Go to sleep.”

Amelia drifts off to the feel of her mother stroking her hair, something she hadn’t had happen since she was younger. She was surprised to realise how much she had missed it, regret for how she had started to rebuff her mother’s affection a few years back building in her chest. “I love you, Mom.”

“I love you too.” Another kiss to the top of her head. “Now get some sleep.”

She falls asleep, completely unaware of how Emily laid awake for hours, anger for a teenage boy she had only met once burning through her veins until she came up with a plan. _________________

Emily wakes in the morning to the sound of Amelia’s door opening. She opens her eyes to see her husband standing there, a takeout coffee holder in his hand, and an unsure look on his face.

She smiles at him as she sits up in bed and beckons him in. He switches the light on, which immediately wakes Amelia, her groans the first indication that she was up.

“Morning, sweetheart.” Aaron says kissing his wife before sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Morning.” She murmurs against his lips, before lifting the coffee she knew was intended for her. Cold brew with enough sweetener in it to rot your teeth.

“You guys suck.” Amelia groans from below the comforter, voice still thick with sleep.

Emily chuckles. “I think you’ll change your mind when you see what your dad has brought you.”

Amelia lifts the comforter from off of her face and shoots up when she sees her favourite frappuccino in her fathers hands. “Dad, you are the best.” She takes a sip and moans, the sugar hitting her tongue. “No wonder Mom has put up with you so long.”

Aaron laughs, glad to see that she seemed her usual self after how devastated she had been the night before. “Are you ok, Mia?”

She smiles at her dad, a shaky thing that was always the first indicator from his wife and daughter that tears were on the horizon. “I will be.” ______________

Emily’s first thought is to set Penelope on Chase. Let her hack into his social media accounts and digitally ruin his life for upsetting her little girl. For trying to pressure her into something she didn’t want to do. She knew Penelope would do it without a second thought. She was the most trusted confidant of all of the younger Hotchner's outside of their parents. Jack had asked for her help planning his over the top proposal to his now wife. Theo had come out to her first, a nervous teenager in her office asking for help on how he could tell his parents. Amelia went to her for advice on everything from boys to elaborate hairstyles, and Penelope gently discouraged her from dying her hair bright purple when she was 13, knowing it would have given Aaron an aneurysm.

Emily was finishing getting ready for work, Amelia already on her way to school, as she started to formulate a text to her friend, a cryptic request to come see her as soon as she got to work, when Aaron snuck up on her in the kitchen.

“You can’t get Penelope to ruin his life.”

Emily jumps, cursing under her breath. “Damn it, Aaron.” She turns to look at him, a sheepish look on her face. “I wasn’t planning on doing anything of the sort.”

“Oh really?” He raises an eyebrow at her. “You weren’t thinking of having her hack all of his social media accounts and freeze his bank account?”

Emily flushes and puts her phone down on the counter. “I can’t just let him get away with it.”

Aaron smiles at her and pulls her towards him with his hands on her hips. “Baby, this is something we have to let her deal with ok?” He kisses her cheek, his smile deepening as she narrows her eyes at him. “No getting Penelope involved.”

“Fine.”

Plan B it was. _________________

Emily is never happier than when she has all of her family in her house. The boys were coming round for dinner, Jack and his wife Sara and Theo and his new boyfriend Zach, someone he had met at college. Theo texted her that morning, a list of strict instructions of things that absolutely couldn’t happen the first time Zach was meeting the family.

She had just let them in, hugging her son fiercely as he walked in and feeling love bloom in her chest when he hugged her back just as tightly, no embarrassment at giving his mother this affection in front of Zach.

She lets him go and turns to the young man standing next to her son. “You must be Zach, I’m Emily.”

He shakes her hand, a nervous smile on his face. “Nice to meet you.”

Amelia bursts into the house, slamming the front door behind her, and immediately breaks the first rule on Theo’s list. “Мама, какого хрена?”

“Не сейчас, милая. У нас гости. И не ругайся.” Emily replies, tilting her head towards where Theo and Zach were standing.

“Ты должен был подумать об этом, прежде чем угрожать моему бывшему парню!”

Zach leans in to Theo, a confused look on his face. “Are they speaking Russian?”

Theo sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose as he did so, and looks at his boyfriend. “Yes.” He turns to his mother. “Ne pouvons-nous pas le faire? C'est la première fois que Zach rencontre tout le monde.”

Amelia rolls her eyes and Emily smiles at Theo. “Je suis désolé, chérie. On va bien se comporter.”

“Are you speaking French?” Zach asks, looking even more confused at the complete nonchalonce all of the Hotchner’s were showing at the multiple languages being thrown around as if it was nothing. The slight look of amusement on Aaron’s face as he walked into the room. “How many languages does your mom speak?”

Theo grabs his boyfriend's hand and leads him further into the house, away from the rest of the family. “Six. Seven if you include English.” _________________

Emily eyes Sara curiously when she turns down wine with her dinner, a small look passes between her and Jack when she asks for soda instead. Emily shares a similar look with her own husband, a look on his face saying he had spotted what she had too, and she gladly gets an alternative drink for her daughter-in-law.

Amelia sulks all the way through dinner. Rebuffing her brother’s questions about school, a glare fixed on her mother almost the entire time. It’s when she refuses her favourite dessert, cheesecake, that her brother’s interest is piqued.

“Mills.” Theo asks, amusement on his face at his sister’s behaviour. “What’s up with you?”

“Why don’t you ask Mom?” She said, pointedly looking at her mother. “Мама пытается разрушить мою жизнь, вот в чем дело.”

“I did not try and ruin your life, Amelia.” She says, rolling her eyes at her daughter's dramatics. She looks at her sons and their respective partners. “All I did was have a conversation with the boy who made Amelia cry herself to sleep a couple of days ago.”

“Yeah. By explaining that you’re a Section Chief at the FBI, whilst you had your gun and badge on display.” Amelia exclaims.

There was a moment of silence at the table before it descended into laughter, confusion all over Zach’s face on whatever he had walked into.

“Oh sweetheart.” Aaron says, looping his arm around the back of her chair to place a hand on her shoulder. “Not again.”

Amelia frowns, looking at her parents in shock. “Not again? What the hell does that mean?”

“Mom’s crazy, Millie.” Theo says, a laugh bursting out of him.

“Hey, I resent that.” Emily says, sinking back into her chair slightly, glaring at Aaron when he laughs at her and kisses the side of her head.

Jack gives Emily a look with his eyebrows raised before looking back at his sister. “My first ever girlfriend broke up with me the day before homecoming, Mom scared the absolute shit out of her by showing up at her cheerleading practise the following day. She somehow managed to mention that Dad once killed a guy with his bare hands.”

“Your dad did what?” Zach asks, leaning in to Theo who just shook his head. A silent promise that he’d explain later.

“In my defence.” Emily says, crossing her arms across her chest, a slight flush to her face. “This one was really sick at the time and I was pretty sleep deprived.” She says pointing at Amelia. “I wasn’t entirely in control of my emotions, and you were just so sad.”

“She also made me very aware of what she does for a living when Jack and I first moved in together.” Sara pipes up, nothing but amusement on her face when she looks at her mother-in-law. She turns back to Amelia. “I think it’s sweet.”

Amelia shakes her head at them all and turns to Zach. “Run whilst you still can.” __________________

Emily closes the door behind Jack and Sara as they leave, promises of getting together soon uttered in between lingering hugs.

“Mom?”

Emily turns to see Amelia standing behind her, her hands in her pockets as she avoids her mother’s gaze. It’s the calmest she’s looked all evening, any frustration she had towards her and her actions having melted away.

“Look, I’m sorry, Amelia.” She says taking a step towards her daughter. “I know I probably shouldn’t have done that. But you were so upset, and he deserved to-”

Her ranting is cut off by Amelia throwing her arms around her waist and placing her head on her shoulder. “Thank you.”

Emily smiles and hugs her daughter back, kissing the top of her head as she pulls her closer. “You’re welcome, sweetie.”

“I always thought it would be Dad, or Theo or Jack who went after a boy for me.” She says against her mother’s shirt before she pulls away. “At least I can tell any future guys that my mom is crazy.” _________________

Emily turns to lay on her side as Aaron joins her in bed, she smiles at him and pushes some hair off of his forehead before running her blunt nails over his temples, the mix of dark and grey hair rasping as she goes. “When do you think Jack and Sara are going to tell us she’s pregnant?”

A laugh peels out of Aaron before he leans forward and kisses her, pulling back only to press his forehead against hers. “Whenever they are ready.”

Emily shifts so her back is against him and pulls his arm over her waist, sighing when he settles his chest against her. “You’d think they’d learn they can’t hide anything from us.”

He kisses the top of her head and holds her a little tighter. “We’ve got some pretty great kids.”

“We really do.”

“You have got to stop threatening anyone who hurts them though.”

“Sure, love.” She says, pulling his hand up to her lips to kiss his knuckles. “I’ll stop.”

They both know she won’t.

#hotchniss #Hotchniss fan fic #hotchniss fan fiction #aaron hotchner #emily prentiss #aaron hotchner x emily prentiss #WTB Universe #Day-to-Day #it's just fluff guys #family fluff #domestic fluff #just them living their lives #which frankly they deserve #after what I put them through in ITSWM

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sarahjkl82-blog · 3 years

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Artistic Instinct Chapter 1

Header thanks to the lovely @yespolkadotkitty

Summary: Marcus Pike and OC Anushka Pierce have been selected to work on a 5 eyes (Australia, Canada, NZ, the UK and US) intelligence team to track down art forgeries as a part of taking down an international white terrorism cell. Marcus is trying to escape his broken heart, Anushka is just trying to escape what the world expects of her.

Word count: 2,595

Warnings: Language.

Pairing: Marcus Pike x reader (OC)

This comes with a MASSIVE THANK YOU to the lovely @yespolkadotkitty , who read, re-read, pointed out the constant flipping between tenses and gave me the confidence to try to write something!

This is the first thing I have written since angsty poetry as a teenager. Apologies if it is shit!

In art, as in love, instinct is enough.

Anatole France

Chapter 1:

That look crosses your face. The one that all your teachers at school said was a perfect mimicry of theirs. The one that forces grown men and women to quieten and pay attention. With your eyebrows slightly raised and a look of stop-fucking-about-and-listen in your eyes, the room grows quiet and attentive as the glow of the presentation lights up behind you.

“Have you ever wondered what makes art unique? Is it the piece of art itself or the hand that created it?” you address the latest batch of students coming through Mi5’s doors. Whilst it is highly probable that the majority of these trainee intelligence officers will not specialise in forgeries as it doesn’t quite capture the glory of fighting extremism, you only want those who truly cared to join forces with your team. Although, what team? Stephens had pretty much washed his hands of you after your latest exploits. Who knows what your new team on Monday would bring. You are too old to try and squeeze yourself into the buttoned up box that Mi5 like their agents to fit into and whilst your old team never expected you to completely toe the line, you knew where the boundaries lay. Or at least, you thought you did.

“If a perfectly painted Rembrandt or a superbly sculpted Rodin appears to be vivid as the original to the point where even an educated eye cannot spot the difference, why does authenticity matter?” you pose to the class. “The fact is, every artwork is an unparalleled expression of an individual creative talent and a result of a precise personal, historical and cultural context. Art forgeries, even if aesthetically pleasant or technically stunning, can cause serious misinterpretations with extremely damaging consequences for the art world and anti-money laundering services.” A couple of polite coughs, a not so polite yawn and a few shuffles of aching bums on their uncomfortable benches punctuate your lecture. You couldn’t blame them. This isn’t where you want to be either.

This lecture was a punishment by Stephens for your latest step out of line. He probably would have looked the other way if your paperwork had been correctly filed but it was still somewhere, half done on your quagmire of a desk. You’d love to be organised but that was for other people, who had their shit more together than you. The punishment slowly crawls to an end and the students gather their belongings and filter out of the theatre. Glad to not have any questions posed, you squeeze your eyes shut to try and rest them against the sharp light flowing from the overhead projector.

“Perhaps you missed your calling as a teacher?” a voice scoffs from the back of the room as you log out of the computer.

“Don’t be a total cockwomble,” you mutter in the direction of the voice that was now attached to a hand offering a steaming cardboard cup of black Americano.

“Oh I can see it now! Instead of teaching the ins and outs of international art crime, you could be doing finger painting and collages- your skin shimmering with a film of glitter!” Hephzi snorts into the foam of her chai latte. Your best friend from the first day of training knows how to lift your spirits with her subtle teasing and caffeine bribery.

After a gulp of coffee sets your blood caffeine level at its normal level, you poke her in the ribs before hugging her one-armedly. “Are we still on for tonight?” you ask, “I have severe cravings for halloumi fries and a massive mixed kebab while we lose ourselves in a nouvelle vague classic?”

“You truly walk a fine line between cultured intelligenzia and Friday night British food, my darling girl!” Hephzi purrs as she scoops one of your totes filled with scribbles and dog-eared books, tossing it over her shoulder, settling it next to the strap of her rucksack.

With a gentle roll of your eyes, you huff at her suggestion, threading your arm through her elbow and follow her out of the poorly lit lecture theatre towards the late afternoon gloom of a London March day.

✪✪✪✪✪

All airports are hell.

The black on yellow signs of Heathrow buzz like angry bees through Marcus’ mind after the seven hour flight from DC, the recycled aeroplane air still sitting heavy on his skin. He’d been to London many times and knew the airport like the back of his hand so his semi-zombified state isn’t an issue through the warren of staircases and corridors that make up Terminal 4. As he watches the slow, steady spin of the baggage claim, he rolls his shoulders and stretches his neck. Even despite his escape to DC, it still wasn’t quite far enough from Lisbon and Jane, the ghosts of their relationship haunting him through the hallways and offices, dreading seeing the toxic pair around the next corner.

Grabbing a small grey case, with his most treasured possessions that he didn’t want shipping over, he didn’t really look like someone who should be heading up the Five Eyes department of Art Crime. He just feels old, tired and irritated that he could just not shake the ghosts of his past.

The failed marriage.

The failed engagement.

Dressed in an old pair of jeans, a white henley and a baggy grey hoodie with suitcases rather than bags under his eyes, he looks more a middle aged, world weary man, than the sharpest American mind in art crime. As he heads towards customs, his navy passport in hand, he wonders if he’ll be pulled over again as he was in Lyon. He’d obviously matched a profile somewhere but there were certainly red faces all around when he’d got the American Embassy to ring through and explain that Marcus was exactly who he’d said he was. Fingers crossed, eh?

He needn’t have been worried. There was no price on his face today.

“Marcus Pike?” a slightly Northern, male voice asks gently.

Marcus swung out of his airport reverie, raised his eyebrows and smiled warmly in the direction of the voice.

“Andy Welbeck,” a large warm hand stretches towards Marcus, “I’m going to be your PA whilst you’re in London. I hope you don’t mind but I took the liberty to grab you a coffee- it’s a vanilla latte? I did check with the staff at your DC office as to what your preferred drink would be.”

Gripping the hand tightly, and accepting the steaming coffee, Marcus feels a wave of warmth and friendship wash over him from the handsome, young man in front of him. “This could be the beginning of a beautiful friendship!” he goofily quotes and then instantly could have facepalmed- like this twenty-something would have any idea about Marcus’ favourite film!

Andy read the man’s discomfort like a book, raising a hand to soothe his awkwardness, “Casablanca is a favourite of mine- how is a film so incredibly quotable and still has such an incredible plot?” Reaching for the handle of Marcus’ wheeled suitcase, Andy continues, “in fact to me, the only other film that manages it, albeit with less of a plot is Withnail and I.”

The tension eases from Marcus’ brown as the younger man’s ease at conversation flowed naturally as they headed to Andy’s car. “So how are you feeling about Monday? Have you had a chance to check out the team yet?” Andy questions gently.

Marcus ran a hand through his hair, trying to lift the airport-flattened curls. “I have read their files, but I was wondering if you’d give me your point of view on the ones you already know?”

“Obviously, I can fill you in on the Brit - and the Canadian, who arrived a week early and still hasn’t stopped apologising.” Andy added with an eye roll, “Harper Gleason doesn’t get in from Melbourne until tomorrow morning, Kiritopa arrives on Sunday so I shall be moving my flat from Lewisham to Heathrow arrivals gate over the next couple of days.”

“Oof!” Marcus exhales, shaking his head in sympathy, “Ouch- is there anything we can do to make it easier? We could just order cabs for them? I need you in one piece for next week!”

“That wasn’t meant in any way as a moan, Sir. It’s the perfect opportunity to make some important first impressions.” Andy delivers firmly, “So, the Canadian is sweet as fuck. She’s super bright and just needs to stop apologising for everything. Dian seems to have this way of watching and seeing the very essence of people. Her clarity of understanding people around her is incredible. She will be such an asset to the team.”

“Great! What about Anushka?” Marcus enquired as he read down the list on his emails.

Andy laughs heartily, hitting the heel of his palm against the steering wheel. “Ah Nush, Nush, Nush! Where to start with my little firecracker?”

Marcus’ eyebrows raise at this reaction and then furrow. “There’s not much in her file apart from her personal info and yet she’s been with Mi5 since leaving university almost twenty years ago?”

“Probably had to be redacted, Sir.” Andy grins lopsidedly at Marcus.

“Please don’t call me sir- Marcus only! Stephens put her forward as one of the best?”

“She most certainly is. She’s also a bit of a car crash- albeit the most endearing one there is- but I can honestly say that if she lets you in, Nush will sweep you off your feet with her brilliance.”

Marcus ruminates over this information and the photo of you attached to your file. A striking woman with almond shaped eyes, olive skin and a Cupid bow mouth stared back him with a slightly raised eyebrow as if she was daring him to disagree with her. Scratching at the scruff on his face, he wonders quite what he’d gotten himself into, heading up the art division of 5 Eyes and being based in London for at least two years.

“Here you are, Sir, I mean, Marcus. This will be your digs until you find something a little more to your taste.” Andy shifts forwards in his seat to point out Marcus’s new building- a large newly built block stretching into the sky above them. “GHCQ have rented the penthouse suite for you for six months to give you time to settle in. I live roughly five minutes in that direction so please don’t hesitate to call any time. No penthouse for me, but it’s home!”

“Thank you so much, Andy. I’m grateful for the welcome you’ve shown me. This will be a great partnership.” Marcus pats Andy’s shoulder. “Whilst I promise not to bug you too much, can we go out for a drink sometime? If you’re local, it’d be nice to have someone to introduce me to the area.”

“Marcus, I’ve already got you pencilled in for a pint on Friday- you don’t need to worry, I’ve got your back.”

✪✪✪✪✪

“Fuck. Where the ever loving fuck are my fucking keys?” You grumble as you rootle through your rucksack. Years of receipts and scraps of paper with doodles from dull meetings obstructed your view and hindered your search for those elusive metal bastards that stood between you and your comfiest jammies, your sofa and A Bout de Souffle.

“For goodness sake, woman! So glad I got my own key cut.” Hephzi shakes her head, “Out of the way.”

“If you didn’t have a key, I’d have to live on my doorstep more!” you snigger to yourself.

As she turns the key, the door needs a swift kick to open it fully. “Has your landlord still done nothing about the damp here?”

“Course not!”

“Want me to send a couple of my brothers around? Sort him out?”

“Mate, I have three useless oiks of my own I could call on for the same outcome. No point in poking the bear,” you shrug resignedly. Hephzi licks her lips as you split the food between two plates- the rice and chickpeas spilling over the side onto the surprisingly clean work tops.

“Your mum been over?”

“How can you tell?” Your eyes crease in laughter, “Genuinely, I think she believes I’m a bit broken. All my brothers married and babied up and her only daughter is living in a shitty, ex LA, messy, damp filled flat and a nameless “IT” job that she wears an invisible ring for!” Your left hand does the Single Ladies dance as Hephzi roars with laughter.

With a glass of wine and a heaped plate of food in hand, you kick some of the cushions from the sofa onto the floor. “Do you ever see yourself meeting someone or are you just too married to the job?” Hephzi pries gently, knowing that even with her closeness to you that the door could quickly slam in her face.

“Honestly?” Your eyebrows slightly raise, “I’m not sure that my mum isn’t too far from the truth. Too broken for anyone who’d I’d let get close.” Hephzi snorts. “Excuse me! I let people get close! Well, as close as I’d like them to be.”

“You’re not broken, just guarded. To be completely honest, I just think you haven’t met anyone deserving of you yet.” Hephzi reaches over and pats your thigh.

You exhale sharply and shake your head as you mutter quietly gesturing towards the cluttered flat, “No one deserves this. Now shush, I need to escape into the black and white.”

✪✪✪✪✪

Marcus shrugs his hoodie off as he enters the sparsely decorated apartment, his eyes roaming around his new home. New job. New country. How long could he keep running from his past? With a sigh and rolling up the sleeves of his Henley over gently muscled arms, he starts unpacking his suitcase.

In some of the drawers, he found some basic t-shirts, pants and hoodies with a note from Andy saying, “Just in case your luggage gets lost!” In the cupboard, there are two suits- one navy and one grey and five shirts. Perfect size, fit and style. Is there anything this man doesn’t know about him? Marcus lets out a nervous laugh- kinda seems like Andy is underused as a PA and should be put into the field!

A light filled, floor to ceiling tiled en-suite with a full sized tub and separate shower was lined with expensive smelling shower gels, shampoos and creams. Opening one, and inhaling deeply Marcus cocks an eyebrow as he enjoys the cedar, amber and rosemary scent. He is dragged back to that heady summer honeymoon he’d spent with his ex-wife in the South of France, drinking glasses of sauternes with frozen grapes keeping it cool as the air carried the scent of the lavender fields and sun warmed herbs floated on the mistral. That familiar ache returns to his chest, but perhaps it is time to lay that ghost to rest.

Marcus walks further into his discovery of the beautiful apartment. The kitchen is small but functional with two French doors that open onto a small Juliet balcony looking towards Canary Wharf and the many towers that organised all the money coming into the UK. All of the cupboards in the kitchen are stocked with a basic range of cooking ingredients and the fridge even has a few ice cold beers and a bottle of Sauvignon Blanc.

“Andy, whatever you’re being paid, it isn’t enough.” Marcus sighs and reaches for a beer, grabbing a bottle opener from the top drawer. It almost feels like it could become home.

Whatever that is.

Ok some notes:

5 Eyes is a real thing- used for sharing information about international terrorism between those countries named above.

An ex-LA home means ex local authority home. Post world war 2, Britain built a lot of social housing which Maggie Thatcher allowed in the eighties to be sold off to private buyers at a lower price to not local authority buildings. They’re not necessarily the prettiest but as the owner of an ex-LA home, they are solidly built and with a great amount of storage space!

The mistral is a strong, cold, northwesterly wind that blows from southern France into the Gulf of Lion in the northern Mediterranean

I welcome any comments, questions or just chats!

tagging: @astroboots for your perusal

@mouthymandalorian @lv7867 @songsformonkeys

#marcus pike x reader #marcus pike #pedro pascal fanfiction #josé pedro balmaceda pascal #pedro pascal characters #the mentalist

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a-simple-imagine · 4 years

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Study Date

Requested by anonymous: “Hermione Granger x reader where reader is best friends with Luna and has a crush on Hermione. She never acts on those feelings because Hermione called Luna Looney and seems to dislike her and in the end maybe Luna sets them up. “

Pairing: Hermione Granger x fem!reader

Words: 2.3k+

A/N - Today i offer you yet another story about hermione granger. Tomorrow? Who knows.

Thank you to @kileyrose-2003 for checking it over.

Hermione Granger was a complete enigma but that was probably due to the fact there was only so much you could learn through limited interactions. If there was one thing you knew about her, it was that she was a spectacular witch with a thirst for knowledge. She had been placed in Gryffindor all those years ago but she truly could have excelled as a Ravenclaw; if that had been the case perhaps the two of you would be closer. Things would have been entirely different but alas you were left to admire from afar since that very first year when you noticed her across the Great Hall. You didn't even have any classes together until you started taking electives. However, as hard as you tried Hermione Granger seemed to avoid you at all costs. You had invited her to hang out many times but she always declined. Maybe Ron and Harry were the limits of her social perimeters?

A hand sways before your eyes drawing you back to reality. "So easily distracted."

Luna Lovegood had such a melodic, soft voice that it was weirdly hard to ignore. Then again everything about the girl could be considered peculiar which was something you greatly admired. She didn't care what anyone thought of her and yet you cared so desperately what they thought of you. "Sorry," You hum, folding the paper in your hands. "I just... do you think there is something wrong with me?"

"No more than anyone else,"

"Maybe that's why she doesn't like me," You let out a defeated sigh before placing the origami tiger you had been working on down on the table.

"Who?"

From the corner of your eyes, you spot a familiar brunette wander into the Great Hall. A few books wedged under her arm. "Can you just give me a sec-"

Without giving Luna a chance to respond, you leap to your feet and scramble along the length of the entire table and then around to catch Hermione.

"Wait," You place your hand against her shoulder, startling her just a little. "Hermione,"

She spins on her heel; her frown morphing into that of a welcoming smile. At least she seemed happy to see you. "Yes?"

"I..." you trail off as a wave of heat washes over you. The Gryffindor always managed to make you feel anxious. It wasn't a bad thing; you knew it was because you liked her but with her already taking every opportunity to ignore you it didn't exactly help the situation. "I was wondering if you uh, wanted to play with us? Me and Luna, I mean."

It sounded rather childish slipping from your lips but Hermione's brow quirked up. "What are you playing?"

"We're having a race," Your expression brightens at her interest, signalling back to the Ravenclaw table where Luna now sat alone. "We both made something out of paper and we’re gonna enchant them so they run the racecourse we made." To the left of Luna was a makeshift racetrack made of books, cups and even your spare inks and quills. It was only small so it'd be a quick race before lunch began. "If I win Luna promised to make my bed every day for a week. If she wins she gets my last bag of Fizzing Whizzbees."

"Shouldn't you be studying during study hall?" Seems Miss Granger was all work and no play. You simply shrug, standing a little taller.

"I'm smart enough already," You declare proudly, a cocky smirk on full display. "And besides it’s nearly lunchtime so we were long overdue a break."

You watch her eyes drift from yours over to where Luna was sat and back. "You two are quite the pair."

"Me and Luna?" As if she could sense you talking about her, Luna waves at the two of you. "She's like my best friend."

"You don't find her a little... strange to be around?" Hermione muses. "A little... loony perhaps? Half the school thinks she's lost her mind."

She was right in saying that a lot of your fellow students judged Luna harshly for being a little more outside the box but you never expected Hermione to be one of them. "I think... she's awesome and I'm glad she's my friend. You shouldn't judge her so harshly when you don't even know her."

You may have invited her to join you but that offer was no longer on the table as you marched back to the Ravenclaw table without another word. Slumping down in your seat exasperated sigh. "Are you okay?"

Plastering on a smile, you give her a firm nod. "Shall we start?"

"What happened over there? You seemed rather excited before."

"Nothing," Focusing on the origami, you pick up your wand.

"You shouldn't bottle things up," Luna expresses softly, picking up her wand too. "Might make your head explode."

"Does it ever bother you that people call you crazy?" You wonder.

"Not really," her head shakes. "It's all in good fun."

You never understood if Luna's belief in people was misguided or just for show. If the roles were reversed you'd certainly not enjoy having people make fun of you. "But what if it's not?"

"Then it's out of my control," Luna flashes a smile. "Shall we start."

With a nod of your head and wands at the ready, Luna starts the countdown. "3... 2..." your grip tightens around your wand. "1.... Go"

With a flick of your wrist, the paper tiger springs to life but it takes a few nudges from the end of your wand to get it moving. When you saw Luna's monstrosity trailing behind, you knew you had this race in the bag.

"I don't think Hermione likes you very much," you don't know why you decided to tell her that, it seemed only cruel in the moment. "I don't think she likes me much either as hard as I try,"

"Maybe you should stop trying," Luna's focus was exclusively on the race as you watch her. Maybe you should stop trying... that was easier for her to say because she didn't find herself with butterflies every time she saw the girl. Searching the Gryffindor table, you find Hermione sitting alone; scribbling away on a piece of parchment. "Staring can be considered quite rude, y'know?"

Glancing back at the race, you find both racers have crossed the finish line and were now laying completely still against the table. Students were beginning to pile into the hall for lunch so it was time to clean up a little. "Sometimes it's hard not to," Reaching over the table you grab your quill. "She's just interesting- who won by the way?"

"It was you," Did you win or was she just being nice? It didn't matter now anyway so you may as well take the win.

You haven't spoken to Hermione since that day she had the audacity to question your friendship with Luna. You didn't necessarily think she had meant what she said in a bad way but it just hadn't sat right with you. It also helped that the only class you shared was Defence Against the Dark Arts so she wasn't all that hard to avoid. The page of your textbook flips over with a gust of wind as you lounge against the stone archways in the quiet courtyard. When you spot Harry, Ron and Hermione, you bury your face behind your book in hopes of not drawing any attention. If you didn't acknowledge she was there maybe you wouldn't long to run over.

"Hey," Slowly lowering the book, you spy the girl in herself looking perkier than usual. Seemingly having abandoned her friends just to come and speak to you.

"Hello," you reply quietly, keeping your eyes on the page. It was explaining how to create the Forgetfulness Potion; a beginner level potion and not at all hard to make.

"Luna said you'd be out here," You glance up at the mention of your friend's name. Why had she been talking to Luna? "And that you may require a study partner,"

Strange. She had never wanted to study with you before. "You don't have somewhere else you'd rather be?"

Hermione shakes her head. "Luna can be quite convincing but if you'd rather study alone, I can go."

"No," the reply comes a little too quickly. "I mean, uh... you can stay. I'd really like the company."

"Great, Ron and Harry are rather distracting when it comes to studying," She plops herself down at the other end of the archway by the end of your feet. Your knees were now pulled a little closer to your chest, propping up your potions book. "I can quiz you if you want?"

"Can I ask you something?" You pose the question as you sit up a little straighter trying to give her more room; handing over the book in the process.

"Of course," Taking the boom, Hermione's hand brushes over the cover but she opens it and begins flickering through the pages. She had the same textbook so you're not exactly sure what she expects to find.

"Why are you here?" The rustling of pages comes to an abrupt stop as her eyes settle on yours but only for a moment.

"To study?"

"You've never been interested in me before," you reply bluntly. "I don't see what's changed now? What exactly did Luna say?"

"Just that you like me," Wide eyes of surprise, your stomach sinks. She was joking right? She had to be. "And that you think I don't like you which is perplexing. So she told me where you usually go to study and that you'd very much appreciate my company."

"I'm gonna kill her," you growl under your breath, sinking down against the stone. How you wished the ground would open up and swallow you whole right now.

"I also thought it was only right that I apologise for the other day," you can't even bring yourself to reply; too scared you'll somehow embarrass yourself further. "I shouldn't have spoken about Luna that way- I also apologised to her. Are you ready?"

Anything to help forget about what Luna had purposely done, you nod your head a little. Setting this whole thing up was a sweet enough idea but she didn't have to straight-up tell Hermione that you liked her. Hopefully, you could just play it off as friends. A silence settled between the two of you as Hermione searches through your book. "I'm gonna say a potion and you just have to list the ingredients, simple enough?" You can feel her eyes on you but can't bring yourself to look back. "You alright?"

"Mhmm,"

"Are you sure?" She questions. "I didn't mean to embarrass you or anything. I'm sure Luna had the best of intentions."

"Just say a potion," It's even more awkward when she brings it up the fact Luna told her. "Please,"

"Okay, how about... Draught of Living Death?"

"Uh..." for a second your mind seems completely blank. Taking a deep breath you settle your nerves a little. "Standard potioning water, Powdered Root of Asphodel..." your brow furrows in concentration. "Infusion of... Wormwood? Valerian root, A Sopophorous bean and-"

"Sloth brain," Hermione finishes. "Good job. Okay, let's try..." The pages flutter between her fingers for a moment. "Exstimulo Potion."

Exstimulo potion. You rake your brain for any memory of it; If you remember correctly it was a potion used to boost magical energy. It was a beginning level potion so it won't be too complicated to make. "Re'em blood... Granian hair, Snowdrop maybe, and like... uh... Bitter root?"

"For an extra point, what colour should it be?"

That you knew almost instantly. "sky blue."

With each passing question, your confidence grew around the same speed as Hermione's smile did. You liked to think that your extensive knowledge of potions was impressive but in all honesty, some wouldn't see it that way. "You are really good at this,"

"I enjoy potions. They value knowledge over skill more than some of the other classes- that's not to say potion-making doesn't require skill and vice-versa. " You explain, moving so your legs now dangle over the edge similar to how Hermione was sitting. "It's probably my best class but I like the study of ancient runes too. What about you? I imagine you're brilliant no matter the class."

"I wouldn't go that far," Her gentle laugh fills your ears, filling you with such an innocent sense of glee. "I like most of my classes though, I would take more if I could."

"Of course you would," You giggle to yourself. "I heard in the past you used a time-turner just to attend more classes."

"Guilty," She offers you a smile. You'd done research on time turners, they were interesting little devices but it took a lot of guts to use one. "It was worth it."

"It's a pretty smart way to use one," No surprise considering who you're talking to.

"Can I ask you a question?"

"Sure. Anything." Hermione fiddles with the corner of the page she has settled on.

"When Luna said you like me, I'm guessing she meant..."

The fire in your cheeks spread hot and fast which had the butterflies in your stomach going crazy. She really had to bring it up again? She couldn't have just ignored it and moved on? "...yeah." You admit quietly. Handing your textbook back, Hermione slips down onto her feet

"So this was her way of setting us up... hmm," Spinning on her heel, she looks to the sky. The sun was beginning to set so it was illuminated by an orange glow. "For a girl so imaginative I would have expected something a little more than a study date."

"I like studying," She sharply turns back to you.

"As do I," She offers a gentle smile. "But I think we should do something a little more traditional for a first date, don't you?"

"First date?"

"Only if you want to,"

"I... yeah. I'd love to."

#Hermione Granger x reader #hermione granger #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #Hermione x reader

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tazwren · 3 years

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My two cents on the devolution of fandom spaces...

As a former mod of a fandom space and a woman of colour, I do not feel safe.

Seeing what has been done to so many in this fandom, by a particular group of white American women, in the name of moral policing is both abhorrent and demoralising. As it also is to repeatedly see the same narrative being shoved at everyone as the gospel truth.

A narrative that very conveniently either becomes about fic or has nothing to do with fic, depending on how people want to swing things. A narrative that will accuse a person of Jewish heritage of anti-Semitism, a person of colour of racism, a practising Muslim of being an Islamaphobe. A narrative that will define for you and me and all of us comprising this myriad of multitudes in the world what generational or personal trauma includes and what induces the same.

Those of you who know me, know what I’ve been dealing with the past few days & why I haven’t spoken up before now. Before I logged out a couple days ago, I saw what looked like more of the usual nonsense by the same group of people I’ve kept my distance from once their true colours were revealed. What I didn’t expect is that they would think themselves so above the norms of human decency and accountability that they would go after not one but two women of colour this time around in their rabidity. And many others who spoke up, as it turns out.

It hurts to see what these women, that I know of, have had to endure and to see the passivity of the community, save for a few voices, in sitting back and letting the circus rampage through town. It hurt when I was at the receiving end of it and it hurts now.

Why? Because it shows me a microcosm of the world that I don’t really relate to, that makes no sense to me with the values I was brought up with, and which reduces basic human decency to a commodity to be trampled upon and for you to be seen as weak for having. Because people who willingly laud you for your art / writing / wit, meet you with effusive claims of love and affection and friendship, who have no qualms in taking your help when it suits them, will throw you under the bus and let the wolves ravage you when it doesn't.

Before I get into that, let me talk a little bit about what has transpired over the past few days to a week, and what has been systemically taking place over perhaps the past year in this fandom.

One thing is that everyone who makes a statement about anything suddenly has people in their mentions demanding they show what gives them the right to hold that particular opinion. A critical thing people forget about fandom is that it is a place where people hide their identity for a variety of reasons, all valid, and this approach to fiction and conversations where everyone has to reveal every part of their past and identity as a means of establishing their "credentials" in order to present their views comes in direct contradiction with how fandoms operate. It violates people's rights to privacy.

The other is that there has been an increase in the voices that purportedly stand up to “speak for” the marginalised, the abused, those discriminated against and those who belong to minorities who “need to be protected / kept safe”. An admirable sentiment, to be sure. If it weren’t for the fact that none of these groups of people needed saving, speaking for or the protection of this particular group of voices.

Voices who only want to define and use these people as "model victims" to hurt other white women and establish their supremacy over both them and other POC. Voices that will present their "truth" as they see fit and sans context or present you with screenshots of snippets of conversations held in supposedly secure spaces that they have no qualms in violating in the interest of the "greater good" and claim offense / silencing if the misdemeanour is pointed out or action is taken against them, Voices that will conveniently categorize you as a "token POC" or "white adjacent" when you do not support or align with their narrative. Voices that belong to a predominantly white American group of women, whose real agenda, as is evidenced by their modus operandi, has nothing to do with real altruism or a drive for justice or indeed to right wrongs.

No, their agenda is purely power.

To hold sway over groups of followers, to shepherd them as though they are sheep who cannot think for themselves, and to set themselves up as white saviours who call out those who step out of line, or are deemed to be problematic and toxic and unsafe. To be the owners of the only "safe spaces" in fandom and to drive other groups and spaces to be boycotted or worse.

Now, I've long wondered, who indeed are these women to decide that for anyone? In a world comprising multiple cultures, religions, groups, subgroups, genders and which contains multitudes, who are these women and what gives them the right to foist their puritanical standards on everyone, very conveniently disguised as concern for the moral well being of everyone and the consumption, of all things, of fiction?

Certainly, there are many things in this world that people regard with justifiably equal dislike / horror / sadness. At the same time, there is much that is not shared, that is particular to a culture and to a person’s background. There is a multitude of perspectives that make the whole. And the white women of the United States of America have not cornered the market on what those are, or indeed even own any curatorship or censorship of the same. They cannot, because each person’s culture and background and joy and trauma is their own, as are their ways of dealing with it all.

That being said, let’s talk about their pack behaviour and the devolution I’ve witnessed on social media as basic human decency is bartered for clout.

I’m all for standing up for someone who doesn’t have a voice or a platform, or maybe afraid of repercussions to voice dissent. I’m all for being there for our fellow human beings as they face struggles of often unconscionable and unfathomable proportions. I’m all for holding people accountable for their negative behaviours as they impact the larger community.

What I am unequivocally NOT for is treating such situations as an opportunity to preach, to virtue-signal, to shame and to put on blast the alleged wrong-doers. I say alleged because that’s what most accusations are on these platforms—allegations to do with things that disturb our sense of balance or make us wrinkle our noses or that we deem bad, and therefore make the accused deserving of the full force of the community’s misbehaviour and censure.

I ask you if you were found guilty of a crime in real life—you know, the one away from your phones and keyboards—would you not have an opportunity to retain a lawyer, to plead your case in a court of law, to acquit yourself? Or, if found guilty, would you not have the opportunity for correction and rehabilitation? Yes, you say? (If you say no, then that explains the spate of state-perpetuated injustices across the USA, but that is a different matter).

Why then are people treated so abhorrently in this court of public opinion? What gives you, me, any one of us the right to judge people so vilely and with a metaphorical gun to their heads? What gives anyone the right to say you better agree with everything I say, retract everything you said and grovel for it or we will eviscerate you in public, shame you, force you to change or delete the content that offends us and still ostracise you and in some cases even threaten you with bodily harm or death, or doxx you?

Why is there no grace in how people are approached or dealt with? Whatever happened to allowing people to learn from their mistakes, where applicable, or hearing them out and giving them a chance to explain their side of something we may not fully understand?

Why is there no accountability for such behaviour on the part of the accusers?

What makes the rest of you sit back and allow this to happen? What makes you think this is in any shape or form okay to watch? Today, it is a virtual stranger at the receiving end, one you can distance yourself from quite conveniently saying Oh, she just mods a group I am in, or I only read their fics a couple times or I only followed them for their art or jokes or whatever flavour of excuse you choose. Tomorrow, it will be one of your own - or it may very well be you. And you'd better hope there's someone left to speak up for you.

The irony is you will have allowed it to happen by letting the wolf in the fold. By letting these white women manipulate you, and the community you claim to be a part of, so unapologetically, so maliciously and so unashamedly that before you can do anything about it the cancer has taken hold.

If this was happening in the world outside of social media, they would have to follow due process, to present real evidence based on facts (not based on emotions, rumours or perceptions) and would have to allow the person they are accusing to present a counter-argument, to defend themselves or be defended. Failure to do so is a miscarriage of justice and, depending on whether this is a professional or legal proceeding, they would either seriously risk their jobs or have the case thrown out of court. If not face action themselves for attempting to derail the process of justice.

Why then are they permitted to range so freely through the landscape of fandom, snarling and biting at who they please, or who displeases them?

I have no shame in saying I was at the receiving end of their behaviour for defending a friend they put on blast and I will tell you right here and now, I am a woman of colour who feels unsafe and attacked by these so-called self-appointed white saviours of your social media experience, these so-called upholders of the common morality—whatever that means—who will fight for you the evils of problematic and toxic writers who dare to have an opinion not aligned with theirs and who do not bow to their clout. Not that they care, so long as they can ignore this fact since it doesn’t fit their narrative. So long as they can ignore what has just been done to so many people in the name of cleansing the fandom.

If any one of these women were truly interested in alleviating the troubles and pains of the discriminated, the marginalized, the trauma-affected, I invite them to please come roll their sleeves up and help in the multitudes of troubles that wrack this world, not just in the backyards of their minds. My country is amidst a struggle for the basics of human life in this horrific pandemic and, prior to that, for basic constitutional rights for religious minorities. Do not patronize me and lecture me on trauma and racism and discrimination. Do not marginalise me in your attempt to pontificate and set your pearl-clutching puritanical selves above the rest, or assuage your white guilt.

A largely American audience or fanbase in this fandom is purely a function of access and interest—other cultures have vast followings for things you couldn't begin to fathom—and it doesn't mean you are entitled in any shape or form to be spokespeople for the rest of the world. We have no interest in being colonized again by white oppressors.

If you disagree with what I have said, I congratulate you on being a part of their coterie and wish you much joy in being the sheep in their fold. Kindly unfollow or block me on the way off of this post.

#fandom #fandom culture #bullying #gaslighting #gatekeeping #minorities #people of colour #real talk #toxic people #problematic behaviour #problematic authors #problematic fiction #fanfic #reylo #reylo fanfic book club #reylo fic recs #trauma #safety #accountability

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bbugyu · 3 years

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how seokmin knew

a journey with yoon jeonghan, lee seokmin, and you.

from the second seokmin first saw you, he thought you were far too good to be true, and he hadn't even gotten to learn the best parts of you yet.

prelude | part one | part two | part three | epilogue

wc.8888 | fluff, smut, courtship, oh jeez where do i even begin, the beginning i guess, polyamory, fem reader, musician!seokmin sugar daddy!jeonghan escort!reader, threesome, fingering, oral (everyone receiving), creampie, cumpla (like gunpla but with cum), (sorry), (but seriously lots of cumplay), overstim, switch!seok dom!han switch!reader, phone sex, snuck in a babygirl, hell yeah fighting for dominance, let's talk BOUNDARIES, hi mingyu, sorry but seokmin being a special guest is hot as hell, the required listening for the last scene is the album "new edition (1984)" by new edition (which is a real lp i own and listened to while writing it)

hELLOO!! welcome to my poly seokhan au! i have been neck deep in this universe for weeks now and i am finally releasing it in three parts! i will be posting today (obvi), tomorrow, and friday at noon pst, plus a little bonus epilogue whenever i finish it! today is all about seokmin and how he fell in love. i really poured a lot of myself into this one, between the poly reader and the obsession with architecture and the record collection (three fun facts about me, but you get no more context), so if you like it, please let me know! i did my best to portray the relationship as realistic and as healthy as possible❣️ also this series lowkey became a “how many cameos can i naturally squeeze in” kinda piece so if you spot one u should absolutely let me know hehe. and i edited my masterlist to accommodate for serial aus, let me know what you think!

please read the prelude linked in the contents of this post! it gives important context for the beginning of this part, establishes relationships, and sets the general mood 😏

seokmin lived a fairly simple life. he held private piano and guitar lessons in the comfort of his apartment, vaulted ceilings and tall windows helping to bring a bright, airy, studio environment during the day that he felt suited musical lessons perfectly - not the mention the lovely acoustics the tall room provided when he sang, belting out improv musical theater riffs as he scrambled eggs for a sandwich. he genuinely found joy and pride in helping adults and children alike train their hands to achieve new heights. he also did some contract vocal lessons at an entertainment company, stopping by the studio two or three times a week to train young new hopefuls in the music industry. he wondered how different his life would have been if he had taken their path, but he enjoyed the quiet downtime in his line of work, and wouldn't trade it for anything

his simple life. he drank tea in the mornings as the sun rose over the skyline, rode the subway with his guitar bag over his shoulder and his groceries in two overstuffed ecobags, and enjoyed his days off by relaxing in his home, scribbling down lyrics and compositions on the legal pad that never left the music shelf of his upright piano. the less simple part of his life could be described simply as you.

the second time he had been summoned to accompany you, he had been at home, heating up leftover takeout and mindlessly watching some drama on a saturday evening after having gotten lunch and playfully wasting the afternoon with a friend, when he received a phone call. he answered it without giving too much thought, expecting an invite for drinks, as was usually the case when he heard from jeonghan. he put it on speaker and set his phone on his kitchen counter, leaning against it as he ate.

"hello?"

"minnie!" he had said, the smile obvious in his voice. seokmin responded with a short greeting before jeonghan continued. "are you busy tonight?"

"just watching tv," seokmin said, spoonful of fried rice in his mouth. "why? you feeling lonely?"

"something like that," jeonghan said. the architect must have been in the car, he thought briefly, hearing the static noise of wheels on pavement in the background every time he spoke. "listen, you remember y/n, yeah?"

he nearly choked. "uh, yeah. of course. did you think i would forget?"

"not really," he said matter of factly. "we're currently heading home after that exhibit opening and she's been asking about you all day. any chance you can get to my place in half an hour?"

seokmin blinked, staring at nothing as he processed. "tonight?"

a laugh. "yeah, tonight. she's been really sweet lately, i thought you could be her treat."

her treat. "right now?"

"yes," jeonghan laughed again. "right now. if it helps the decision making process, i've had my hand between her legs this whole time and she gets needier every time you talk."

seokmin swallowed harshly, imagining you squirming in the passenger seat of the car, huffing and desperate, begging for him with jeonghan's fingers curled into you. he adjusted against the counter, his pants suddenly feeling slightly tighter. "i'll get a cab."

then he heard you, your signature whiny moan as jeonghan no doubt worked you into a mess despite his even tone as he spoke. "y'hear that, sweetheart? he said yes. i'll pay for the cab when we get there. see you soon?"

"yeah," he said, eyes still unfocused. "yeah, see you soon."

after jeonghan asked you to be an angel and hang up for him, seokmin stood and looked around at his leftover fried rice and the drama that continued playing, remnants of his simple life that he found plenty enjoyable and fulfilling on its own, but fell to the shadows as you came into the light.

the cab ride felt too fast, and jeonghan's car pulled into the driveway of his luxurious home only minutes after seokmin arrived. he emerged from the door of the cab and stood in the late november air as the other car parked, the passenger door swinging open in a hurry.

"seokmin!" you squealed, heels clicking against the drive as you ran up to him in a shoulderless, long sleeved jewel toned dress that was not at all suited for the current temperature. your arms wrapped around his neck and he laughed into the hug. "i missed you."

"it's practically snowing," he chided, pulling away to wrap his coat around you, and you happily fell into his chest. he didn't stop you when you pulled his face to yours, kissing him briefly but deeply. you tasted familiar, memories of eating you out entering his mind as he thought about how jeonghan had likely made you clean his hand in the car, and despite your forwardness and his generally shy nature, it wasn't the winter air that sent chills up your spine when he muttered "i missed you, too," against your lips.

"okay, kids, get inside while i pay the nice driver," jeonghan said, holding out your coat to seokmin. he took it, draping it over your bare shoulders. you grinned at him, working your fingers between his and leading him towards a side entrance of the home.

he felt a flash of embarrassment, wondering what the cab driver must have thought about the interaction he was witnessing, but seokmin figured that he had probably seen much stranger and decided to not worry about it, especially when you were regaling the events of the evening.

"they were playing classical," you groaned, punching in the door code with the hand that wasn't fiddling with his fingers. "from a cd. at a modern art exhibit. what part of that makes sense?"

seokmin laughed. "is that why you were thinking about me?"

you smiled as he followed you through the doorway, revealing a grand kitchen with a large island countertop. he had been here before, but on halloween, when it was full of life and the counter was covered in food. "jeonghan may have let me watch some videos," you said, and seokmin felt heat rising on his neck as he thought of you asking to learn more about him in his absence. you stepped out of your heels and walked towards the large fridge as you spoke, retrieving a water bottle. "that jazz piano number you did, jeonghan said it was at a bar? that would have been so much better, especially considering the artist's vision. his stuff was so full of life, i'm honestly surprised he allowed them to do anything other than live jazz - classical was too stuffy."

"it was a commentary," jeonghan reminded you, closing the door behind him as you offered a bottle to seokmin. "juxtaposition of traditional museum atmosphere with outlandish architecture and colorful, emotional art pieces," he said, sounding rehearsed. "the music was supposed to feel stuffy compared to the visuals."

"you guys worked too hard to settle for that," you shot back. you may have held a little resentment for the fact that jeonghan hadn't even asked for your opinion on the matter, considering you were less than a year away from a degree in musical theory. "if i hear clair de lune at one of these unveilings one more time, i'm gonna tear my fucking hair out."

seokmin laughed, but jeonghan only gave you a tired chuckle, and only after you quirked an eyebrow at him. he should have known you were only acting impressed at the exhibit because you wanted seokmin around. jeonghan could be cruel, but not so cruel as to invite a friend over to make his lady's night, only to deny everyone the pleasure after he already arrived, and this was a fact about him you were completely aware of. now was your chance to act out with little to no sacrifice - the most he would do is punish you in bed, and that, you were willing to handle.

jeonghan tsked when he saw your laptop and schoolwork spread across the kitchen island. "didn't i ask you to not do this?"

you eyed the counter, noting the teasing tone he took. "not do what?"

"leave your shit in the kitchen. you have a whole room to do schoolwork in, make a mess in there," he scolded, clicking his tongue as he flipped a textbook shut.

"i work better in bright, open spaces," you said quickly.

"i gave you a window to the sunroom."

"and i love it," you stated obviously. "and the desk you chose is nice, and the chair is super comfy, but it's still too dark in that room. it makes me want to fall asleep." you turned to the musician. "how have you been, seokmin? i haven't seen you in weeks, and jeonghan purposefully keeps secrets when you guys go out."

seokmin said close to nothing of substance as he said he was doing well and leaned against the kitchen island, focusing more on the way you shrugged the fuzzy coat off your shoulders and setting it in the counter to tuck your arms into his, wrapping them around his torso and resting your chin on his shoulder to give the man of the house a flirtatious look. jeonghan simply rolled his eyes at you with a faint smile on his face, taking off his own outer coat and going to hang it in a closet. you hummed as seokmin spoke about anything he could think of, smiling when you felt his gentle, hesitant fingers rubbing circles into the small of your back.

and that night, seokmin was perhaps too eager to secede control, allowing his friend to gently order the two of you to do whatever pleased him. currently, you were between his thighs as he laid out comfortably in jeonghan's bed, the architect fucking into you from behind as your voice went hoarse from sucking seokmin dry. his thick cock stretched your jaw to its breaking point, but your neediness for his cum on your tongue outweighed the soreness you knew you would feel the next day as you bobbed your head, your hands wrapped around what wouldn't fit. he choked, his fingers itching to reach out to you, but remembering jeonghan's firm words of no touching and gripping the sheets instead as he came into your mouth and you moaned around him. jeonghan had stopped you from swallowing completely, a hand around your throat as he pulled you against his chest, forcing your neck to crane around so he could share the treat. seokmin watched, hand involuntarily going to pump himself again despite the sensitivity, as his release dripped down both of your jaws between the feverish kisses. you whined, jeonghan continuing to thrust into you as he stole the gift seokmin gave you straight from your mouth, his fingers finding your clit, making your knees shake as he came in your pulsating cunt.

that was the first time in his life that seokmin had ever cum twice in one session, having been too turned on at the sight to even think about not having you ride his face, cum seeping out of your precious hole. too turned on by the way your fingers dug against his scalp and the way you tasted to even think about turning down jeonghan when he asked to touch him, groaning against your core as he slowly and teasingly jerked him off. too turned on by it all to even think about not cumming when he was told, fist clenching the now familiar sheets as you rolled off him, panting from the overstimulation. your face was wrecked, tearstained and flushed, as you collapsed into his side, wrapping your arms around his torso and burying your hot face in his neck, his own face not much better. jeonghan proudly announced he was off to take a shower, sucking a line of cum off his thumb before saying that you lovebirds were welcome to stay as long as you would like, fully expecting you two to continue without him as he walked to the bathroom.

seokmin felt shy, for some reason, despite having just having taken a shower with you, and just before, having had sex with you both. you had asked him if he wanted sweats or a shirt to sleep in, saying jeonghan wouldn't mind if he borrowed some. he turned you down, but watched you tug a far too large shirt over your otherwise bare form, and let you lead him back to bed.

"it's a custom mattress," you told him, giggling as you pulled him onto the oversized bed, kneeing yourself to the center and plopping down next to where jeonghan was wasting time on his phone. you planted a kiss on his cheek and he looked up to smile at you before you turned back to seokmin. he noticed the duvet changed, and he wondered if jeonghan had swapped it out after the mess they had made on it. you maneuvered yourself under the covers, gesturing for him to join you. "c'mon," you said. "we cuddle here."

seokmin had never even considered the idea of spending the night in bed with two other people, but found it surprisingly comfortable for it being his first time.

he did a lot of firsts with you, as it turned out.

you started to text him when you were alone and bored, which was something you and jeonghan had discussed with the strict understanding that you would have open and honest talks about it frequently, and that you would let him know any time you reached out to the musician. the first time he ever had phone sex, seokmin was busy at the company he did contract work for, and he had even told you so after the first suggestive text you sent him, but that didn't stop you from sending him increasingly dirty ideas and photos, making him silence his phone and shove it in his back pocket as he tried to focus on his students. when he finally slipped away to a private bathroom, he groaned at the way you looked, laid out on a plush couch and squeezing at your own breasts, with your back arching just so, and he quickly called you to ask if you were trying to get him fired.

"maybe if you get fired, you can come work with me," you whined, fingers already teasing your slick folds just at the low tone in seokmin's voice. his mind whirring as you gasped suddenly, revealing that you had already started. "jeonghan's been too busy for me this week, please don't tell me you are, too."

seokmin's eyes squeezed shut, back hitting the bathroom wall as he pulled himself out of his pants, trying not to drop his phone from his ear as he imagined how absolutely delightful you must look in that moment. "i'm never too busy for you, baby."

jeonghan took him out to dinner. it was normal, mostly, and not the first time since seokmin had seen his dick, but he noticed the older was acting slightly different as seokmin turned the meat on the grill.

"about y/n," he said finally, and seokmin fumbled with a chunk of pork before clearing his throat.

"yeah?"

jeonghan smiled. "she hasn't said it yet, but i think she really likes you."

that made seokmin freeze, suddenly thinking about how he was at dinner with his undefined sext buddy's long term partner. "really?" he squeaked out.

"listen, i want you to know," he said, picking off some cooked meat and chewing it casually. "whatever happens between you two, i'm okay with it. she promised to keep me in the loop, and i trust her."

seokmin nodded, putting down the tongs and grabbing his chopsticks, continuing to avoid eye contact. "okay."

jeonghan laughed. "stop acting like i'm her dad. you and i are in the same relationship with her at this point."

he swallowed, a smile creeping across his face. "well, she does call you daddy."

the next time he saw you, you came to him, appearing at his apartment one early tuesday evening as his last client was leaving. he greeted you casually, but still snuck a quick kiss on your lips as he let you in, his student packing up their guitar. he took your winter coat and told you to make yourself comfortable as they finished up, telling you where the restroom was if you needed it, but in a tone that made you think he was saying it more to announce to his student that you had never been there before than for your comfort, which pulled a quiet giggle from you as he quickly organized his loose leaf sheet music into their designated folders. you watched him from the piano bench as he made short conversation with his student, accepted a check, and bid the aspiring guitarist farewell, closing the door behind them. when you were finally alone, seokmin blushed at the realization that you had been smiling at him the entire time, thinking about how his client must have thought their teacher had gotten himself a cute girlfriend.

you were less forward this time. less needy. you flirted, but not in the outright ways you had every other time seokmin saw you. you stood and joined him by a bookshelf as he put away materials, asking him about his day (quite lovely, especially with this to look forward to), what he had eaten for lunch (he'd gotten ox tail soup delivered as a celebratory meal for a student that just had their first solo piano recital that weekend), and how he managed to command authority in all his students when he always looked so darn cute (he had pitched his eyebrows at you and went "yah," but was unable to keep a straight face long enough to argue with you). you smiled, taking a baseball off the bookshelf and turning it over in your hands, and asked why he invited you over. he cleared his throat, saying he thought it'd be nice to take you out on a proper date, but faltered when your shining eyes caught his.

"a proper date?" you asked, smiling slyly.

"i- uh, yeah, i mean-" he cleared his throat, hand finding the edge of a table as he tried to figure out what he was trying to say. "people generally treat you in exchange for your company, right?"

"generally," you agreed, focusing on his standup piano on the far wall as you thought. "i don't want you to, though."

“i didn’t mean-” he stretched his jaw - a nervous habit that you had begun to notice - as he readjusted his approach, not wanting to imply that he wanted your exchange to be purely transactional. "i just wanna take you out. for real."

you gave him a small smile, knowing what was the case despite your teasing. "okay. it's a date."

to change the subject from one that seokmin clearly didn't know how to continue - and besides, you weren't hungry enough for dinner yet - you returned the baseball to it's display and asked him how he taught his lessons. he laughed, not because your question was funny, but because he didn't know how to answer it in a way that didn't sound like a pitch to a potential client.

"then teach me like a client," you demanded playfully, skipping to sit at the piano bench and turning to grin at him.

seokmin took a moment to look at you, with a knit sweater tucked in the front of a pair of loose jeans - a far cry from the tight fitting, short dresses he normally saw you in - sat in his apartment as the last remnants of sunrays dipped behind the skyline. "you know how to play," he said finally, but walking over to join you anyways.

"teach me like i don't," you said as he sat beside you, scooting over slightly to accommodate. "i'm very good at acting incompetent."

he laughed again. "normally, people pay me for this kind of time, but i'll give you an intro. we'll start with hand placement," he said, gently putting his hands on the keys. "starting position is important, even though you'll be moving around the keys a lot when you actually play. your thumb," he said, wiggling his right thumb and smiling when you giggled. "it starts on c. that's your root."

"oh, right," you vocalised, placing your right hand similarly an octave up from his. "music has a bunch of letters, huh?"

"only the seven," he joked, pulling his hands off the keys as you comfortably set your fingers where they belonged, a motion you clearly made often. "wow, are you sure you're a beginner? you picked that up fast."

you knocked him with your shoulder, giggling. "quick, what do i do next?"

he smiled. "try pressing the keys in order. c to g, thumb to pinky. be firm, this isn't an electric keyboard. it can sense fear."

you sucked on your cheek, smiling at the way seokmin explained things as you played, but used your pinky to strike the black key instead of g, giggling at the flat note. "oh, that sounded wrong. this piano must be out of tune."

"stop," seokmin said teasingly. "beginners don't have that kind of pinky dexterity, by the way."

"maybe i'm a prodigy," you said, grabbing his sleeve with both hands excitedly. "you have to teach me, mr. lee! you're the only one that can help me hone my gift."

"stop it," he repeated, laughing, giving you a fake glare. he put his hands back on the keys. "lesson over."

you pouted, but it was short-lived as he began to play. you watched his hands effortlessly move over each other as you listened to the gentle flowing melody. despite being classically trained yourself, back when you were young and your parents felt you needed the discipline of regular lessons, you found yourself being impressed by his deft finger movements. your eyes shut, and you let your temple fall to his shoulder as you listened.

"yiruma," you said when he stopped playing despite the song not being over.

his arm went over your head, allowing you to lean into his chest as he planted his hand on the bench behind you, your eyes still shut. "you know your stuff."

"it's one of my favorites." you smiled, eyes fluttering open again. "you play well."

your breath stopped in your throat when you realized how close his face was to yours. "have to. people pay me to teach their kids."

"jeonghan pays me to be nice to him, doesn't mean i'm good at it."

seokmin couldn't help but laugh. "how did that even start, by the way? he would never tell me when i asked."

you sighed, straightening your posture. "i suppose you should know, considering this is becoming a regular thing."

"you don't have to if you don't want to," he assured quietly. you smiled at the thoughtfulness. "i'm just curious, is all."

"i don't mind," you said, shaking your head gently at him. you inhaled, organizing your thoughts - this wasn't a subject you explained very often. "i had a scholarship for the first two years of uni, but i would have to pay tuition afterwards, so i decided to become a paid escort to save for it." you paused to study seokmin's reaction, but for the first time from someone other than jeonghan, you found no creased brow, no vague frown. no judgement. "men would hire me through a broker to accompany them to dinner, go to parties, the general stuff. i even played golf a couple times - terribly, obviously, but rich men really enjoy teaching young pretty women how to play golf. i always got a cab ride home at the end of the night, though. never did anything more. jeonghan was one of my clients."

seokmin nodded. "how long did you do that for?"

despite how you would normally take that question, you knew he meant no shame in asking. "ten-ish months? jeonghan was only for the last month or so, though."

"before he asked you to quit?"

you laughed lightly. "actually, someone else asked me to quit. this guy that had been hiring me regularly for almost my entire career. he wanted me to date him properly. i think he wanted a trophy wife. he was young, like, only a few years older than me, and he was nice, y'know? a little awkward in the beginning, but paying someone to go out with you is always a little awkward, and we got comfortable with each other pretty fast. he wanted to take the next step with me, but he wanted the end goal to be marriage."

seokmin adjusted as he thought. "but you said no?"

"i said yes." his wide eyes made you laugh, but you understood his shock. "i was ready to quit anyways, i guess?" you shrugged, shaking your head. "i wanted to go on real dates instead of getting paid to eat with men my parents' age. yukwon felt realistic to me. someone i could see myself with." you sighed. "i went out with jeonghan during my last week of escorting. when i told him i was quitting, he asked me to choose him instead."

he watched you when you paused, pursing your lips. "and then you said no?"

you giggled, bumping against his chest as he laughed with you. "i tried! but jesus, when that guy gets an idea." you shook your head again. "he asked how much yukwon was paying me - which he wasn't, by the way. we were going to do it for real, even though he was still gonna support me financially and pay for my schooling. i was gonna sign a prenup and everything - but jeonghan kept saying he would double it. said i didn't have to marry him, and that he just wanted to keep spending time with me, and if i wanted to call it quits later, i could. no pressure, no sex, no commitment… he gave me a choice, and i realized i didn't love yukwon. i thought i could, but i didn't."

"so he saved you?"

"from a lifetime of settling? i guess so. he's funnier, too," you admitted sheepishly. "i always had the most fun on nights i was with jeonghan."

seokmin smiled. "he is good at lightening the mood."

"and," you said, eyes wide. "he didn't even want us to be exclusive, said i could keep escorting or go on dates with other guys if i wanted, as long as i promised to make time for him when he wanted me. it was kind of the perfect arrangement."

seokmin nodded again. "was, being the operative word?"

you laughed, remembering how well he knew jeonghan. "lasted less than a month. we spent too much time together, and i quickly realized that every time i went out with someone else, i wished i was with him. to be honest, when i met you, i thought this would be a one time thing, so i may have tried to make it seem a little less involved than it is." you sighed. "we never really defined what we were. i think we've both always known that he was more than a sugar daddy to me, but he does basically pay me so that i can keep my schedule open for him, so i guess it's easier to tell people that? instead of everyone assuming i'm some gold digger taking advantage of his money?" you shrugged. "i do love the guy. i'm about 94% sure he loves me, too."

that made him laugh. "how long have you been together?" he asked, trying to figure out the timeline in his head. he had known about jeonghan's relationship with you for quite some time, though not the exact nature of it, or that you were so fantastic, for the mass majority.

"about a year. right before halloween, actually," you said, smiling as you leaned into him. "you were technically an anniversary gift."

his lip quirked upwards, watching you. "was it a good gift?"

"the best," you whispered, placing a slow kiss on his lips. your hand went to his sharp jaw, and you sighed against him as the kiss deepened, suddenly feeling needier than you had previously.

"does he know you're here?" seokmin asked quietly, mind flashing back to when him and jeonghan had gotten dinner together. "like this, i mean."

you nodded slowly, a hand on the bench to steady you as you leaned into him further. "he's in japan this week, told me i could see you as often as i want. just asked that i call him when i can, we spoke this afternoon."

"promise?"

you giggled. "you act like i would risk it. i like you too much, and you know he would make us both regret it if i was seeing you behind his back."

he examined your face, a smile on his lips, knowing it wasn't the part of the statement that he was meant to focus on but unable to think of anything else. "i like you, too."

so he kissed you, sitting on the piano bench in his loft apartment, and despite it being nowhere near the first time, something about it felt special. new. different.

later, though much sooner than later would imply, when the two of you were unable to stop yourselves from undressing each other, he had you seated firmly in his lap on the couch in his living room. the way he filled you out made you incapable of doing much outside of digging your hands in his hair as he rolled his hips up into yours, rambling about how perfect you were. how well you took him. how he had never seen anything as breathtaking as the way your brows stitched together and your mouth hung open as he fucked you. you huffed, twisting your hips slightly, triggering a groan from you both.

"so beautiful," he muttered, hands on your bare hips, rubbing circles into the soft flesh above the bone. "fuck, you're incredible."

"shit, seokmin," you exhaled, forehead falling on his. you knew he wasn't even using all his length, but he was thrusting deep enough into you to make you see stars. "god, i'm close."

you watched his tongue dart out to wet his lips as he focused on you, pulling himself off the couch and sitting up straight as his hips steadily rolled into yours. "come on, babygirl. you know i love the way you feel."

you cursed, arms winding around his neck as you pressed your chest against his, desperately kissing him as you felt yourself falling over the sweet edge. he groaned when you squeezed at him, arms wrapped around your waist, fingers gripping any amount of you he could as he worked you through your bliss. he only slowed to gently put your back to the couch, your legs wrapped around his waist as he curled over you, arms under your body to pull you into his chest, and a hand at the base of your neck to hold you steady as he firmly fucked you into the cushion.

"fuck, baby, you're so good to me," he groaned, forehead pressed just under your jawline, his mouth latching onto your neck as soon as he managed the words. you were gasping for air, arms over his shoulders, wondering if seokmin always made love this deeply and genuinely, or if you were just special.

afterwards, he discarded the condom that he insisted on using (you asked what the point of you getting something shoved into your cervix was if you couldn't enjoy his particularly bountiful creampies with no consequence, but he said he was not getting cum on the couch his clients sit on), pulled his underwear back on, and returned to you quickly, kissing up your body after pulling your panties back over your hips. you ran your fingers through his messy hair, causing him to look up at you. he said sorry, a laugh on his lips, asking if you wanted to get food delivered instead of going out.

"that sounds perfect," you giggled. "don't apologize."

"i'll take you out for real this weekend, i promise," he said, sitting up and stretching out his shoulder. you watched, quietly admiring how gentle and soft he seemed, with surprisingly firm muscles hiding under his usual large sweaters and shirts. "and i'll pick you up so we don't get tempted. but for now, kimchi soup and bibimbap?"

you nodded excitedly, sitting up to wrap your arms around him and planting a kiss on his shoulder. "sounds delicious."

he tried not to get excited by your touch, thinking about how you had said this was becoming a regular thing, and therefore he didn't need to get as much of you as he could before you slipped through his fingers like he had the first few times you met. he couldn't help himself, though, when his eyes met yours and you smiled gently at him, and had no choice but to put an agonizingly slow kiss on your lips before he stood to announce he was changing into something comfortable if you were just going to stay in. you giggled and grabbed your sweater from where it got discarded, pulling it over your head as you told him there was no chance in hell you were putting jeans on again before the morning, and he smiled at the implication that you would be staying the night with him.

"i have lessons tomorrow," he reminded you softly as he gathered up his clothes and walked to the stairs. "if you'd like, you can stick around, but it'll be boring."

you hummed. "i don't have class, but i should do schoolwork," you mused, watching him walk up the steps to what you could assume was his lofted bedroom. "it's been lonely at the house, though."

"if you wanna bring your things here, you can," seokmin suggested, his voice projecting easily through the space. he pulled on a pair of shorts and a more casual shirt than the one he had been wearing for his work day. "it would give you something to do while i teach youths how to play chopsticks. do you stay at jeonghan's when he's not around, too?"

you laughed, thinking about your all but abandoned apartment as you meandered towards the stairs. "lately, yeah. i used to spend more nights at home than in his bed, but he gets really busy planning stuff in the winter and has less time to take me out." you stretched your back. "i think he likes knowing i'll be there when he gets home late. makes the day easier."

seokmin nodded as he came back down, running a hand through his hair, thinking that he, too, would find his days easier if it meant going to bed with you every night. "that's very kind of you."

"it's selfish, i promise." he laughed. "if you saw how tiny my place is, you would choose jeonghan's too. besides, i get cold in bed alone."

he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his chest. "is that why you're here?"

you giggled. "no, i'm here because you invited me over. but that might be a factor in why i'm staying," you teased, hugging him tightly.

the next day, you were sprawled on his bed, writing an accompanying essay for your composition project as he taught lessons down below, only emerging to refill your water glass and use the restroom as infrequently as possible, trying to not disturb his lessons. parents often accompanied the children, usually reading a book and listening to their child practice. a college friend of his stopped by, as he tried to do at least once a month, accompanying his niece, and seokmin recalled that he was the one that had given jeonghan his number again over a year ago, feeling like he should thank him but not knowing how.

"seokmin," you called down softly when you heard him chatting casually with his friend. you padded down the steps with your empty water glass, spotting the young girl at the kitchen table with a marker and a sheet of paper, smiling when you remembered her slightly clumsy, but surprisingly advanced keystrokes, considering her age.

"what's up?" seokmin asked, pushing off of the counter he was leaning against, and he ignored the quick, questioning nudge mingyu pushed into his side.

"hi, sorry," you said, waving lightly when you noticed the tall man beside him. "i was wondering - if you have time - if you could listen to my composition piece and tell me if you think it leans more romantic or more post-great war?"

seokmin nodded. "absolutely. do you need me now, or can it wait ten minutes?"

"it can wait," you assured, eyes darting between the two men. you lifted the glass in your hand. "i needed a break."

he smiled, taking your glass and moving to pull open the fridge. "this is mingyu, by the way. mingyu, y/n. he's an architect, also."

"also?" mingyu asked, eyeing you. seokmin stared at you, realizing what he said.

your brows ruffled as you studied the tall man's face, not recognizing it. "we must not be in the same social group. i'm a friend of jeonghan's."

he gave you silent thanks for keeping the relationship ambiguous. mingyu, however, nearly yelled. "yoon jeonghan?" he laughed. "you know, i didn't even see that guy at his own halloween party. you still keep in touch, i assume, seokmin?"

he nodded, putting your filled water glass on the counter beside you, and you wondered how you never saw mingyu at the party, either. "yeah, we hang out fairly often."

"he introduced us," you interjected. mingyu smiled between you two. "thought we'd match well, i guess."

"well, you just asked a music teacher to review your composition, so," mingyu laughed. "he was right?"

seokmin studied you with a crooked smile on his lips. "have you ever known yoon jeonghan to be wrong?"

you stayed another, more innocent night, but when seokmin woke the next morning, his face was pressed against the side of you neck, and you were pushing your ass back against his morning wood.

"fuck, good morning," seokmin groaned, hands gripping at your hips where they had already been aimlessly floating.

"oh, thank god you're awake," you panted out. you spun in his grasp, pushing his shoulder back on the bed and climbing atop him. "you must have been having a fantastic dream, because you would not stop touching me."

he couldn't help the whine in his throat, mostly from embarrassment. "i'm so sorry."

"don't be," you rushed out, peeling off your shirt. "i just need you now."

considering this was his third time seeing it, he didn't think he would be so awestruck still, but the snapshot of you, topless, seated on his lap with your hands on his chest was a view that seokmin would likely never get over, because it felt like he was the dorky, awkward protagonist and you were the long-shot love interest that was way too cool and way too hot for him in this cliché coming of age comedy.

you kissed him, and he pushed your hips down to grind against his lap, pulling a gasp from your lips. he took the opportunity to bring a hand to your neck, pulling you into open mouth kisses. you moaned without shame as you rolled your hips.

"you know what jeonghan told me?" you asked, pulling back to tug his underwear just far enough down to release the member you couldn't stop thinking about.

you straddled his lap, hands on your thighs. seokmin pushed his bare cock against your core, the wet fabric sticking lightly to his length. "what, baby?"

"he told me he wanted you to plug me up," you breathed, biting your lip when seokmin used a thumb to pull aside your underwear and drag your wetness across his dick. you moaned. "he wanted you to fuck me senseless and tell him all about it."

seokmin groaned, neck stretching out. "i can do that."

"no, baby," you said, bringing his free hand to your face and putting a kiss in his palm before you lifted yourself up, his thumb still hooked on your panties as you rubbed the head of his cock through your folds. "i wanna fuck you."

you sunk down onto him, jaw dropping. he smiled lightly, running his hands down your thighs. "i'll let you if you can."

your toes clenched, and you tried to maintain face. "i can."

seokmin folded his arms under his head, trying to avoid the temptation of fucking up into your warmth. he sighed, breathing out a "go on, then."

you put your hands on his chest and bounced on him several times, biting at your lip at how wide he stretched you out, but taking too much pride in the way his eyes hung half lidded and his breathy groaning to stop.

your hands went to his neck, leaning forward, lifting his head slightly off the pillow to kiss him, his hands falling from behind his head to hold yours, stopping you from pulling away.

he moaned into your open mouth, and you backed up for only a second to blearily meet his eyes as he panted. "baby."

you nodded, stealing a few more messy kisses. "yes?"

he groaned again, your hips twisting over his. "you're like a dream."

you could feel the heat radiating off your neck and cheeks, but you just pushed on his chest to sit upright, hands landing on his thighs. you moaned again, unapologetically, as you rotated your hips over his, and he bucked into you at the angle change. "if this is the dream, please don't wake up."

seokmin had a sneaking suspicion that he was in love with you, or at the very least falling towards it. the confirmation of this fact threw itself in his face, not when you proved that you could fuck him, sitting deeply on him to push his cum further in, or when you squealed and giggled as he threw your back onto the bed so that he could pull your underwear off proper and bury his tongue in your heat, but afterwards, when he wandered into the kitchen after using the restroom and found you wearing one of his shirts, waiting as his electric kettle bubbled to life, his favorite blue mug on the counter beside a white one - the white one, he realized, with the finger heart design that he had chosen for your coffee the day prior. and he told you so, rushing to explain himself and assure you that you didn’t have to say it back, but you just hushed him and smiled, saying that you loved him too.

seokmin had to go to the entertainment company that afternoon. you walked with him to the station near his apartment and he sat you in a cab, a kiss on your lips, before he hurried down to catch his ride to work. he breathed heavily when he could finally lean against a wall in the train, having to run to catch it before the doors closed.

seokmin❣️: almost didn't make the train 🙃

you: but you did!!! proud of you 👍

seokmin❣️: thanks 🥴💕

you were both smiling after that.

he took you out to eat that weekend, as promised, and you had honestly forgotten what it was like to date people that weren't jeonghan. you liked riding the subway with him (you couldn't even remember the last time you took it), and you thought it was cute that he let you stand against a wall to keep easy balance as he stood in front of you. you were slightly impressed that he barely rocked with the movement, only grabbing an overhead loop when the train was pulling into a station.

"wait, you're especially pretty right now," he said suddenly, leaning forward to inspect your eyes.

your head hit the wall gently in reaction, flushing at his comment, wanting to bury your face in your scarf. "thank you."

he gave you his signature crooked smile. "of course."

it was cold out, but seokmin wrapped his hand over yours, shoving the whole ordeal into his coat pocket as he walked you down the street towards the restaurant he had picked. you giggled, squeezing his hand in his pocket, but he just continued telling you about which of the trainees he was working with seemed like they would debut.

"jiyoon composes, too! i'm really impressed with her actually," he said, trailing off when he saw the sign for the restaurant. "ah, here it is."

you thanked him when he held the door open for you, and you were immediately struck with the smell of tomato, cheese, and bread.

"i haven't had pizza in ages," you said excitedly, following him to a table.

"don't tell me," seokmin said, helping you take off your jacket and hanging it on a hook at the end of the booth. "you guys don't order pizza?"

you shook your head, sliding into the booth comfortably. "not often. jeonghan likes asian food."

seokmin froze as he was pulling off his jacket to stare at you. "what about you?"

"i like eating."

he laughed. "well, i like pizza."

after dinner, you insisted he come back to the house with you. he said he didn't know, thinking that you would probably need your energy for when jeonghan got home the next day. you pouted, knitting your fingers with his as the two of you stood on the sidewalk outside the pizza place.

"but i really wanna show you my record collection," you said, batting your eyelashes at him.

that was all it took.

you discovered that there was a bus stop near jeonghan's home, and while you would likely never take a bus without seokmin, you thought it was a good nugget of information to tuck away as you marched through the front door of the estate you practically called home.

"welcome to yoon manor," you joked, spinning to smile at seokmin.

he looked around, and despite having been here before, it felt grander coming through the main entrance and without the distraction of party guests. he had seen it empty briefly, from a different angle, when you were pulling him up to your bed a few weeks prior, but he realized he hadn't actually been able to see much when you were the focus of his attention.

"the kitchen's that way, there's a bathroom," you said, pointing at the opening past the stairs as you pulled off your scarf. you folded it over your arm as you walked further into the home, seokmin following you closely. you walked past a partial wall, pointing further down the hall that held the secondary living space that he originally met you in. "there's a bathroom to the left there, and if you go to the end of the hall there's an open sunroom."

seokmin looked around the room you stood in, recognizing it in bits and pieces, but it looking much different without a crowd and flashing lights.

"and this is the living room," you said, spreading your arms as you spun to him. "tv, couch, bar, and most importantly," you giggled, tugging him towards the far wall of the room, which was covered in deep toned shelving, speakers, and a record player. "my record collection."

you took off your jacket as seokmin looked around in awe, noticing you had select autographed records displayed alone on picture ledges with spotlights pointed at them. one picture ledge was empty, centered just above the player. you tossed your coat into the couch, pulling seokmin's off his shoulders as well, despite his distraction.

"these are all yours?" he asked, turning to look at you after you had discarded the coats.

you nodded, spinning the felt of the record player mindlessly as you looked around. "i actually had started a collection years ago, but i couldn't make an excuse to spend the money on it very often. jeonghan gave me a pretty good excuse. also, whenever he pissed me off, he knew he could take me to a record shop and i would forgive him."

seokmin laughed. "does that happen a lot?"

"not as often as you'd think, considering what an ass he is," you teased. you gestured to the collection. "this is my baby, though. the house is his, but this wall is mine."

"well, play me a record," seokmin requested plainly, making you smile into a laugh.

"okay," you said, scooting past him to pull out one of the many cube drawers amidst the shelving. you flipped through a few. "dancing music?"

seokmin watched your hands, humming. "slow dancing, but, like, in a nostalgic discoteque."

you thought for a second, then closed the drawer to move to a different one, quickly flipping through and finding the record you wanted. you pulled the lp out, putting the bright blue sleeve with five smiling men on the empty picture ledge.

seokmin wrapped his arms around you as you set the record, striking the play button and enjoying the whirring as the lp spun, the needle connecting and the speakers scratching to life. you spun in his grip, laying your arms over his shoulders as he pulled you away from the record stand, into a more open space to playfully dance to the soulful bass lines and pop melodies of new edition.

"this house is insane, right?" seokmin asked, squinting at you as you laughed and nodded.

"it really is. the craziest part is he's still working on it."

"really?" seokmin looked around. "what else could he wanna change?"

you let your eyes wander. "i think it's a work in progress for him. the sunroom was brand new when we met, and he added this record display last winter, when i told him i always wanted to collect. the bar is new," you pointed. "he finished that in october. the kitchen was a summer project."

he blinked heavily, trying to register. "does he do all the work himself?"

"his team helps him," you explained. "he has a few contractors he works with and they manage the construction projects, but every once in a while i wake up on a sunday and he's cutting wood in the garage because he got an idea. he drafts all the changes, usually participates in the build, and picks most of the furniture, but he has people to collect the options for him."

"and he also does all that for other people, too?" you nodded, giggling. "and has time to take you to events almost every weekend?"

"i know. i didn't understand how he found the time until i realized that he just gets paid to do his hobby."

seokmin nodded. "me too, i guess."

you grinned. "me three. you should stay with us more," you suggested, rocking with him gently. "he'll be late tomorrow, but he's working from home this week…"

"hush," seokmin chuckled. "i have to work. besides, i'm sure he wants you alone after letting me claim you while he’s been gone."

"about that," you said, pulling away slightly to give him a cheeky smile. "i haven't gotten him to admit it yet, but i think jeonghan has a crush on you."

seokmin choked out a laugh. "what? me?"

"seokmin," you started, giving him a look. "he wanted you to join us for sex. more than once."

"okay," he scoffed lightly. "people have sex just for the sex sometimes," he pointed out, but in a tone that had no chance at convincing anyone.

"sure," you giggled. "but think about it. he kept me to himself all this time, and suddenly he's encouraging us to see each other without him? asking me about everything we do together..."

he swallowed. "everything?"

"everything," you breathed, eyes trained on his lips. "he knows i'll always go back to him, and i think he's hoping i'll bring you with me."

he blinked at you, processing. "is that what you're doing? bringing me back to him?"

"only if that's something you're interested in," you stated, cocking your head.

"him, you mean?"

you thought a second. "yes?"

you watched him blink repeatedly, seemingly considering the concept. he thought back to all the nights that became early mornings, laughing and joking with the architect since before he had even an ounce of notoriety. he thought of how jeonghan had reached out to him again a few long years later, and the way he had insisted on paying every time they got food. he wondered if there had been something happening that he hadn't noticed, his oblivious nature getting the best of him again. he thought about when things changed, when they met less often and jeonghan seemed quieter around him. and months later, when he started mentioning you.

"maybe," he said finally, mind whirling. "i don't know, i've never thought about it."

you nodded, putting your arms over his shoulders and swaying lightly to the music. "take your time," you said, smiling when his forehead pressed against yours. "we'll wait for you."

#this is my life's thesis #seventeen fluff #seventeen imagines #seventeen smut #seventeen scenarios #jeonghan fluff #jeonghan imagines #dokyeom fluff #dokyeom imagines #jeonghan smut #dokyeom smut #poly seokhan au #i wrote dis #hannie #sunshine #i love this one yall #my magnum opus #i cant wait to post the rest <3

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coccinelle-et-chaton · 3 years

Text

Adrinette April Day 13 - Family

@adrinetteapril

This one's a tear-jerker my guys 😃

Based on this thread and the ideas of @bookdragonlibrary

Family

There was no reason to be nervous, Adrien told himself. It’s not like he didn’t know the Chengs and not like it was the first time he’d spend time with Marinette’s parents, either. But things were different now.

As of a couple days ago, Adrien was, officially, Marinette’s boyfriend.

The thought still made him blush, still made him stutter. He was still assimilating the surprise, the revelations that had ultimately led to Mari and him come together.

He knew Fei and Uncle Wang would be in the city, Marinette had invited him to say hi to them before it all happened. They were going to cook food together, play some games, and catch up with Marinette’s relatives. He knew them, there was no reason to be scared. Uncle Wang was one of the sweetest men he had ever met, and he always enjoyed spending time with Marinette’s parents. Mrs. Sabine liked playing video games with him and Mr. Tom always taught him new puns to add to his arsenal. Fei was also fun to spend time with, even if her favorite pastime was to try to fluster him in Mandarin, in front of Marinette.

It was going to be okay, there was nothing to be scared of. Except now he wasn’t just Marinette’s friend. He was more than that, and to the extent of his knowledge and resolution, he’d continue to be more than just her boyfriend in the future.

The thought made his stomach churn, realizing this was the root of his anxiety.

He was going to be part of this family, sooner or later. Or at least, he hoped to. He didn’t dare say that to Marinette though, not after exactly three days of dating. He was worried he might come off as too eager even if deep down, he knew Marinette would never judge him for wishing something like that. Then, there was the fact that his family had never been big. He did have his aunt and cousin in London, and to the extent of his knowledge, some relatives he had never known lived somewhere in Belgium. But the Agrestes had never been family gathering enthusiasts. Not to mention, holidays of any kind went by uncelebrated at his house. He didn’t know how to act in front of a family, especially not one where each individual member had more or less adopted him in their own way over the years and he had confectioned a particular brand of his personality for each of them. It made him infinitely anxious.

He sighed, gathering his courage one last time before heading to the backdoor of the bakery, following Marinette’s instructions to just go in because everyone would be there--again, wrecking his nerves because that’s not at all the way he was taught to enter a room. At his house, you always had to let the person know you were headed to where they were, and even then, you had to knock and wait.

He ended up knocking at the door, unable to bring himself to just pop in.

“Hello, Mari’s boyfriend that wasn’t her boyfriend but now is for real her boyfriend!” Fei said in energetic Mandarin as she opened the door.

He blushed and grinned, replying in Mandarin as well, “Hi Fei. It’s good to see you!”

She signaled him to come in and announced, without switching languages, “Marinette’s boyfriend is here!”

Adrien didn’t need to see his face to know just exactly how red it was. Mortified, he stepped into the bakery kitchen, immediately assaulted by the rich, homely aromas of the food that was being prepared. Everyone was doing something: Tom and Sabine were tending to the preparation of steamed buns while Uncle Wang was teaching Marinette how to prepare dumpling filling from scratch, while simultaneously monitoring the broth he was cooking. The room bubbled with conversation, laughter, and music playing in the background. Everyone stopped momentarily to acknowledge him.

“Hi, Adrien!”

Adrien had never known a combination of anxiety and being comforted by the sense of being home could ever coexist in a moment.

Marinette wiped her hands on her apron and hurried to greet Adrien with a big hug and a quick kiss on the cheek. Adrien’s first instinct was to tense up.

“It’s okay,” Marinette said in his ear, “My parents really don’t mind.”

Hearing this, he let go of a sigh and relaxed, hugging her as well.

“Come, I got you something,” Marinette said, with a devious smile as she pulled him to the large kitchen island at the center of the room, where Fei and she had previously been mincing ingredients. She opened a drawer and produced a black apron that had a print of a little cartoon cat wrapped in a tortilla, with the words ‘I’m a purrito’.

Uncontrolled laughter escaped Adrien, immediately diluting the quiet, polite front he was trying to summon.

“I knew you’d appreciate the lame pun,” Marinette said, sliding the loop of the apron over Adrien’s head.

“Cat puns are a superior form of art, excuse you,” Adrien said, chuckling.

“I agree!” Tom said from his corner in the kitchen.

“Don’t encourage him, dad,” Marinette said while Adrien smiled, anxiety slowly leaving him as he became acclimated to the mood.

“Hello Mr. Cheng!” said Adrien in Mandarin. “I’m happy to see you again, I hope your flight was alright.” He was self-aware of the fact he had unintentionally slipped into the rehearsed politeness he usually addressed adults with.

“It’s good to see you, too, Adrien!” said Wang. “And no need to be so formal! You can just call me Uncle Wang. You want to help me with the broth or you’re helping the girls?”

“I, uh... would you like me to help you?”

“If you want,” Wang said kindly. “Or you can help Sabine and Tom with the steamed buns, whatever you feel like doing.”

Adrien smiled sheepishly at Wang and looked around himself a little bit. “Um... I think I could help the girls if that’s okay.”

“Of course!”

Adrien walked over to the part of the isle where Fei was teaching Marinette the tone difference between yī qǐ, yì qi, and yí qì as they carefully confectioned dumplings.

“No, listen, yì qi. You’re saying yí qì,” Fei said.

“I don’t hear it,” Marinette sighed, trying again.

“Yì qi, yí qì,” Adrien said, carefully intoning so that she would hear the difference. “Loyalty to your friends is one tone away from ‘abandoned’.”

“Is that what I’m saying?” Marinette said, surprised.

“Yì qi means personal loyalty,” said Adrien. “Yí qì is literally, ‘abandoned.’”

Marinette sighed. “I’ll never get the hang of it.”

“You can always practice with me,” Adrien offered, beaming at her.

“That’s what I’ve been telling her,” Sabine intervened. “See, I told you Adrien would be willing to help you.”

Marinette blushed as she sneaked a glance at Adrien.

“Besides,” Fei said. “It’ll come in useful if someone pickpockets you in Shanghai.”

Marinette and Fei smiled at each other, complicitly.

Fei and Adrien continued quizzing Marinette on her pronunciation as they slowly, but surely went through several batches of dumplings. Once the food had been prepared, they took everything upstairs to the apartment, cleaned up, and hung the aprons.

“Yours goes here, Adrien,” said Sabine, showing him the four hangers next to the door. It was apparent that the fourth one had been recently installed. Adrien found himself questioning why he felt so emotional about a wall hanger.

“Thank you...” he said, sounding more touched than he meant. Sabine simply smiled at him, seemingly unaware of his reaction.

One of the things Adrien loved about having dinner at Marinette’s was that they always put the different dishes at the center of the table. Adrien knew this was normal, of course, but he had grown up eating by himself and just one serving of one dish per meal. The idea of having several different plates you could choose from and the fact you had to share them with others gave him a bizarre satisfaction, a sense of belonging that he was sure was misplaced.

Then there was the fact that the room was never quiet. It was a stark contrast of what he had always known: Wang and Sabine were telling stories to Marinette about growing up in a village near Shanghai, what it was like when they moved. Tom told jokes to Fei, explaining to her the puns when she didn’t get them because of the language barrier. Adrien listened and watched both in wonder and with a certain melancholy, finally knowing the kind of warmth he had been missing all these years.

Noticing how he had grown quiet, Marinette reached for his hand under the table and squeezed it, then with her thumb gently caressed his ringed finger. She smiled at him, and he inevitably reciprocated, filled with overwhelming joy as he remembered they were now finally and officially, together.

After dinner, everyone gathered in the living room and played a few rounds of charades and Pictionary. Eventually, everyone voted to have Adrien and Marinette and Tom and Sabine in different teams because every time they were in the same one, there was no way for the opponents to win. They seemed to always know what the other was saying. In Marinette and Adrien’s case, her family attributed it to their talents at acting and drawing, but they knew it was because that level of synchronicity came with experience, with the bond they had inadvertently cultivated with their masks.

Eventually, the time for Adrien to go back to his house came, much to his disappointment. He was not even gone and he already missed the warmth of being around Marinette’s family. Before leaving Wang reminded him he was always welcome to visit him again at the restaurant whenever he was in Shanghai again, an invitation that had Adrien thankfully bowing to and accepting in a sudden bout of awkward Mandarin.

“I hope we get to see each other again before you leave,” said Adrien before Marinette walked him downstairs.

“We are,” said Fei. “Aren’t you coming tomorrow? Marinette said I’m meeting Alya and Nino. We’re going to do the touristy Paris things.”

“No, I have to work tomorrow,” Adrien admitted, evidently disappointed. He had lived in Paris all his life and he’d never done a walking tour or one of those hop-on-hop-off buses. It was really a shame.

“Ah, that’s too bad. But hey, Paris has a lot to see. I’m pretty sure we’ll be out for most of the day, right Mari?”

“Right,” she said, smiling at him. “You can join us when you’re done, Min-- Adrien.”

Adrien gave her a look, recognizing the slip of the tongue she evaded. Luckily, if Fei noticed, she didn’t mention it.

After saying his thanks and goodbyes, Marinette walked Adrien down and waited with him while his driver arrived.

“And?” Marinette asked. “What did you think?”

“I had a lot of fun, thanks for inviting me, Mari.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” Marinette said. “I already told you, Chaton. You can come here whenever you want. Plus it was a family gathering, everyone hoped you’d be here.”

“Really?” he said.

“Of course! But you did enjoy yourself, right? You don’t have to come next time if you don’t want to. You seemed a little tense at the beginning.”

“I was a little nervous,” he confessed. “I had never been at a family gathering before.”

Marinette’s heart twisted painfully with Adrien’s confession. “Oh, Adrien,” she said, pulling him into a hug.

“To tell you the truth, I almost cried like, three times or something,” he said chuckling if only to hide how moved he actually was. “Your parents installed a hanger for my apron,” he said, burying his face on her shoulder. “Apart from all you’ve done, that’s literally the nicest thing anyone has done for me.”

“Well, now you’re going to make me cry.”

Adrien laughed, kissed her cheek, and pulled away from the hug. “No, Princess. Don’t cry. It’s okay. I’m really happy. I can’t wait for the next time we do this.”

“We do it every weekend,” Marinette said. “I mean, it’s only the three of us, but if you want you can--”

“I can come every weekend?” Adrien said, excited.

“Of course,” Marinette said. “I keep telling you, Adrien. You really can come here anytime you want. Even when I’m not here. Sometimes I find Alya literally just chilling with my mom or my dad, waiting for me to get here. I mean, you’ve met my parents and Uncle Wang, they know what it’s like... What it’s like to uh, you know...”

“You can say it, live with a horrible father.”

Marinette looked down as she chuckled. “Something like that. My dad has a complicated relationship with his own dad, too, you know? They had been fighting at least for the last twenty or so years, he had shut dad out until I intervened. And my mom, well you heard the story, she moved here young and had no one. They know what it’s like to miss your family, and they’re always happy to include others who are or were in similar situations. Especially if that person is my boyfriend.”

Adrien had to pull her into a hug again because this time she really had made him tear up and she didn’t want her to see it. “Are you doing this on purpose or what?” he said, sniffing. “You want to make me sob, milady?”

Marinette laughed, rubbing his back in circles. “No, Minou. I’m just trying to reassure you, I mean it. This is your family, too, Adrien... If--if you want it, I mean I don’t want to sound---oh wow that sounded so weird didn’t it? I--”

Adrien interrupted her by pulling her into a kiss. One that still carried the tints of surprise, realization, and excitement of the discovery of their identities, but that was also steadier, calmer, more conscious than the first few they had shared.

Adrien’s bodyguard pulled up in front of them shortly after they had broken apart. “I love you, Mari,” said Adrien, not knowing how else to convey all that he was feeling and leaning into one last, short kiss before boarding the car.

He sighed as the car drove away, head in the clouds and heart fuller and warmer than it had ever been as he thought about the Dupain-Chengs, but above else Marinette, his family.

#adrinetteapril2021 #adrinette april 2021 #day 13 - family #adrinette #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #or should i say adrien dupain-cheng #sabine cheng #tom dupain #fei cheng #wang cheng #keeping up with the chengs #ml fic #miraculous ladybug fanfic #miraculous ladybug #my writing #ml spoilers

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