#sorry if i misheard what actually happened in the book (i say like anyone but bidoof would have read them recently enough to call me on it)

[leafcabbage]

for you hgau lovers. take this. (cw transphobia)

#drdi hgau #sorry if i misheard what actually happened in the book (i say like anyone but bidoof would have read them recently enough to call me on it) #cabbage thoughts

[flightfoot]

Friendship and Uncertainty

AO3 Thanks to @oblivionhold for betaing!

Marinette really didn't have a lot of great options in Prime Queen. She couldn't tell Nadja and her parents "Oh yeah, sorry, I double-booked myself as Ladybug, my bad! Guess my parents are gonna have to babysit instead!" And if she'd tried to make up an excuse about being busy, with how last-minute it was and how urgently Nadja needed childcare, I don't think her parents would've accepted it.

Her only viable alternative option would've been to cancel her interview with Nadja at the last-minute, citing some last-minute conflict with her civilian schedule. She could've transformed during a bathroom break, texted Chat, and told him as much, leaving him to interview with Nadja alone. I'd argue that this would've been the most responsible option, but not necessarily the best one. With how much the network was pressuring her, Nadja may have landed in hot water if she couldn't get one of her guests on, and Chat would've been disappointed as well.

The plan Marinette came up with in canon was her best shot at fulfilling all her responsibilities without anyone being mad or disappointed or hung out to dry. Manon got looked after by someone Marinette knew was a good babysitter, she got to go to the interview, and no one would have any clue things were remiss... at least, that was her plan. In canon, things got dicey for a bit with Alya calling into the show, but ultimately no one discovered Marinette had left the premises, and everyone was mostly happy.

But it was risky, and things could easily have gone wrong. Hence, this story.

It gives me a good reason to explore Alya feeling hurt and exploring her emotions while sticking closely to canon. There aren't a lot of fics that do that.

--------

“Where is she?” 

Alya looked down at Manon. Nadja was worried about Marinette not being in the picture when she called, and she couldn’t blame her. Bringing over a friend to help babysit as well, or taking over babysitting momentarily while the hired babysitter was busy was one thing, but this was getting ridiculous.

Marinette had seemed weirdly anxious about talking to her parents. She’d chalked it up to Marinette being nervous about whatever she’d needed to tell them, but…

She let out a frustrated sigh. Marinette hadn’t even told her why she needed to talk to them so urgently. It almost felt like she was making up an excuse to ditch her with Manon.

“Marinette wouldn’t do that,” Alya murmured to herself. “She’d tell me if she needed me to cover for her, right?”

But the thought wouldn’t leave her brain.

Manon yawned.

Gears turned in Alya’s head. “Hey Manon, before you fall asleep, how about we go downstairs so you can use the bathroom?”

“I’m not gonna fall asleep!” Manon said, yawning again. But she stood up shakily and headed for the stairs, following Alya.

-----

As Alya waited for Manon to finish in the bathroom near the kitchen, she heard a soft humming coming from the kitchen. Seizing on the opportunity, she hurried over (while keeping near enough that she could still hear when Manon opened the bathroom door).

“Ah, Alya!” Tom greeted her. “Did you kids need some snacks?”

“No, but-” Oh what the hell, why not? “Actually, that sounds great.”

“Anything for my daughter! And her friends of course,” he said, cheerily grabbing a few of hers and Marinette’s favorite cookies. 

“Speaking of Marinette, what’d she want to talk to you about?” she said, as casually as she could manage.

“She wanted to talk to me about something?” Tom asked, sounding perplexed.

“Maybe I just misheard her,” Alya said hastily. “I was playing with Manon and things got a little loud.”

Tom looked troubled. “Well, just let her know that if she needs to talk to me about anything, her papa is always willing to lend an ear.” She could almost see a lightbulb turn on above Tom’s head. “Oh! I’ve got a batch of Marinette’s favorite cookies in the oven right now! They should be ready in about twenty minutes. If you can send her down then, we can talk this out, see what’s troubling her! And if it was a mistake, well, I’ll never say no to watching her face when she bites into a strawberry macaron.”

Alya slapped on a smile. “Will do!”

The toilet flushed. 

“That’s my cue to leave. Thanks, Mr. Dupain!”

“Anytime!”

She walked to the bathroom on autopilot.

Marinette had lied.

------

“I’m so sorry Alya! I had no idea it would take so long to talk to my parents!” 

Alya didn’t look at her. “What did you guys talk about?” she asked tonelessly.

“Uh, you know… family stuff,” Marinette sounded nervous. 

Alya turned to her. “Marinette, I know you weren’t with your parents.”

“I- uh-”

“I went downstairs earlier and asked your dad what you two talked about, but he said he didn’t talk to you at all. Your dad wanted me to tell you that if you need to talk with him about anything, he’s willing to lend an ear. The batch of strawberry macarons he was making should be ready by now.” Her voice sounded dead, even to her own ears.

“Alya, I’m- I’m really sorry-”

She took a deep breath. “I’m not ready to talk with you about it right now,” she said evenly. “If I do, I might raise my voice, and I don’t want Manon to see us fighting.”

Marinette winced, glancing at the sleeping girl.

“Um… could we talk tomorrow…?” Marinette asked, sounding small. 

Alya nodded stiffly. Not like she could avoid it, tomorrow was a school day. 

As she headed down the ladder, she paused and looked up, “Oh, and Marinette?”

“Yes?”

“I didn’t let anyone know you left. I’m still not happy you ditched me, but I didn’t rat you out.”

Marinette’s eyes widened and she started to stammer something. Alya shut the hatch.

Alya squeezed her eyes tight, letting out a small sob.

At that last moment, she’d been tempted to stay. To hear Marinette out. To see whether maybe, maybe, she had a good explanation. Some sort of excuse.

But she couldn’t.

If she stayed, with Marinette looking at her like that, clearly hurting… she wouldn’t be able to stay mad at her. Not when she felt worse than Alya herself did.

Alya wasn’t ready to let go of her anger and hurt yet. Not so soon.

Pausing only to text Nora that she was heading home, she hurried out the door.

------

“Little sis?”

Alya quickly wiped her eyes, trying to compose herself before Nora saw her.

It didn’t work.

“What happened? Who hurt you?” Nora asked, grabbing her shoulders. 

“No one!”

Even to her own ears, it sounded false.

Nora frowned. “Really? Your eyes are red, and I can see the tear streaks on your cheeks. You really expect me to believe that?”

She looked away.

“Hey, look, little sis-” Nora said softly.

“Don’t call me that.” She couldn’t muster up the energy to put any heat behind her words. 

“You know you can tell me anything, right?”

“Promise not to go after her?”

Nora blinked. “Her? ...wait, you were just at Baguette’s place- did something happen with Marinette?”

“Promise me,” she insisted.

Nora grimaced, before sighing. “Fiiiiine. Can I at least yell at her?”

“No. I want to handle this myself.”

“If you’re sure, little sis.”

Alya made a face, but explained what’d happened. How Marinette had called her over, ditched her with an excuse about her parents, how she’d learned Marinette was lying, everything.

“-and I just. I don’t understand why,” she finished. “I help her out all the time! Heck, I’ve even helped babysit Manon before! Why’d she lie to me?” She looked down at her lap, her fists tightening as she squeezed her pants legs, needing to get energy out. “I just- I feel used.”

Nora pulled her into a tight hug. She leaned into the pressure, listening to her sister’s heartbeat.

“Remember back in Martinique, with Maya?” Alya murmured.

“The neighbor girl?”

Alya nodded. “We played together a lot when I was a little. But sometimes… sometimes she’d get demanding, saying that if I didn’t do what she wanted - play some game she wanted, pick a role she wanted me to, whatever - she’d say that if I didn’t do it, she wouldn’t be friends with me anymore. There weren’t a lot of other kids my age in the area, so I agreed.” She gave a small smile. “Until one time she went too far. I stormed home in tears, scared that she wouldn’t play with me anymore, but not able to take it anymore.” Taking in a deep, shuddering breath, she continued. “You know what Mom did when she heard? When I told her how afraid I was that Maya wouldn’t want to play with me anymore? She told me to just wait. Less than an hour later Maya was knocking at the door, asking if I would come out to play. I stopped being afraid of her threat after that, and she stopped using it. I could say no.”

“I’m guessing this feels similar?” Nora said.

Alya nodded. “But it’s also weird! With Maya I understood what she was after. With Marinette, I don’t. Did she just really not want to babysit? Where’d she even go? And why-” Alya hesitated. “Why did she risk this? What was so important? Marinette, she- she doesn’t always think through other people’s feelings, but she DOES care about people! She doesn’t like hurting others! So why-”

Nora shook her head. “It’s no use speculating, you’ll just get your head turning ‘round and ‘round in circles ‘til you don’t know up from down. Just ask her tomorrow.”

Biting her lip, Alya sighed. “You’re right. Of course you’re right. I just don’t know how I’ll sleep tonight after all this.”

Nora smiled, pulling out a DVD from… okay she really wanted to know when Nora had hollowed out a copy of the Lord of the Rings trilogy collection, because on the one hand that was SUPER cool, and on the other hand it physically hurt her to see a book damaged like that. 

“I was saving this for your birthday,” Nora said, oblivious to Alya’s crisis, “But I think you need it now.”

She looked at the movie, letting out an inhumanly high-pitched squeal. “Majestia’s Early Days - Collector’s Edition?! How’d you even get this? I camped out on the website all day trying to snag a copy! They sold out in seconds,” she scowled, “Damn scalpers.”

Nora laughed. “Having fans can really come in handy. After one of my matches, I mentioned how bummed out my little sis was about not being able to get her hands on a copy. The next day one of my regular fans handed this to me, said he hoped you’d enjoy it.”

“If you see him again, tell him that he’s a wonderful person with excellent taste in boxers!”

Nora laughed, grinning from ear-to-ear. Alya bet her own grin dwarfed even Nora’s. 

“Let’s watch Majestia kick some ass.”

-----

“Alya? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” 

Nino lifted an eyebrow. “You’ve been staring down at the floor for the past minute, looking like your dogs just got kidnapped by subterranean monsters and you’re trying to figure out how to get them back and why they’d want them in the first place.”

She stifled a laugh. “You come up with that for one of your movie scripts?”

He adjusted his cap, grinning proudly. “No, but now that you mention it…”

“Do you even know anyone with a dog?”

“Maybe a shelter would help out? They’re always looking for more exposure. We could put a note during the credits that the pups are available for adoption!”

Hm… she could advertise their film on her blog too, maybe ask whether any of her readers worked at a local dog shelter…

“We could talk to Marinette, see whether she’d be up for making a monster costume! Or if she’s too busy, Halloween’s coming up and- Alya?”

She blinked, only just now noticing how tightly she’d been squeezing her shirt in her hands. “I’m- I’m fine.”

Nino frowned. “No, you’re not.”

She looked away. 

Nino slid into the seat next to her. “Look. I don’t know what’s going on, but it’s clearly hurting you. If you don’t want to talk about it, I understand. If you just want to go back to talking about something unrelated to it, something fun, to keep your mind off it, I’m happy to oblige. But I’m always here to lend an ear if you need it.”

She took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “Marinette called me over last night, wanted me to watch the Ladybug and Chat Noir interview with her. She also happened to be babysitting Manon, and thought it’d be more fun if we were all there together. Everything was fine at first,” she said, fidgeting. “I played around with Manon for a bit, Marinette got some pillows to lay on, and we got set up to watch the interview. Then Marinette said she needed to talk to her parents and that she might be gone for a while.”

She let out a humorless chuckle. “I waited for a while, but… no Marinette. Finally, I went downstairs and checked with her dad. He didn’t know anything about it. As far as he knew, she’d been upstairs in her room with me the entire time. Marinette came back a little while later, pretending that her talk with her parents had gone super long and I just… I couldn’t deal with it. I left. I said I’d talk with her about it today, but…”

“But you don’t feel ready now either?” Nino guessed.

She nodded. “I just keep on turning it around and around in my head. It doesn’t make sense. Sure, Marinette makes up excuses and disappears sometimes, but…” Something niggled in the back of her brain. “Hey Nino,” she asked carefully, trying to catch the strand of thought. “Has Marinette always been like this? Running off at a moment’s notice with fake-sounding reasons?”

Nino scratched his head. “I’m not sure,” he admitted. “We’ve been in classes before, but we weren’t exactly close. I don’t think so? I think I would’ve noticed that. Not like we had akuma attacks distracting us last year.”

“Akuma attacks...” she murmured to herself.

There it was again. That niggling sensation, but even stronger this time. 

*Slam*

Marinette threw the classroom door open, pinwheeling her arms as she struggled to regain her balance. 

“AAAAAAH-”

At the last second as she fell backwards, Adrien seemed to almost teleport through the door, catching her.

Nino smiled. “I swear Adrien has a ‘Marinette falling’ sense. He always arrives just in time to catch her.”

Alya snorted. “Now if only he had a ‘Marinette feeling’ sense.”

Frowning, Alya tried to grasp onto the threads of thought from before, but they’d scampered with the distraction. 

“...Can I sit here?” a soft voice asked.

Alya jumped a little, then scolded herself. She’d just seen Marinette arrive, she shouldn’t be able to startle her less than a minute later.

Nino got up slowly, giving Marinette a hard look, but moving to his regular seat without comment.

Marinette didn’t move. 

Oh. Marinette was waiting for her permission, not just for Nino to leave.

“Sure. I mean, you sat here first,” Alya said. “I’m not the Queen of Seats.”

Marinette snorted at the reference, the edges of her mouth twitching upwards.

Alya narrowed her eyes. She hadn’t noticed before, but from this close, she could see the bags under eyes, along with a slight puffiness.

Guilt settled in her stomach. She was pretty sure she knew why Marinette wouldn’t have gotten enough sleep, why she would’ve been crying.

“But she broke my trust!” part of her screamed. “She lied to me, used me!”

She still didn’t like seeing her friend hurt.

“So?” She asked as Marinette slid into her seat.

“So what?” Marinette asked nervously.

Alya narrowed her eyes. 

Marinette bit her lip. “I- I’m not sure what to say. I- I lied to you. You’re right. I called you over because I’d accidentally double-booked myself, but I couldn’t just TELL Nadja that and I couldn’t cancel on no notice, so I just… came up with what I thought was the best solution. Manon would get taken care of, Nadja, Mom, and Dad wouldn’t know anything unusual had happened, and I’d be back before you noticed anything was wrong. Everyone would be happy! At least, that’s what I planned…” she petered off, looking away.

She could get what Marinette was thinking now, when she called her over. Sometimes you couldn’t do the things you wanted without disappointing someone, without someone being upset with you. But if you lined things up just right, you might not need to upset anyone - so long as they never found out what you’d done. 

It still stung that Alya had been the tool she used to solve her problem, but at least she understood Marinette’s thought process. 

“What was so important?” she asked. “What was so vital that you had to sneak out, even if it meant lying to your friends and family?”

Marinette flinched. “I- I have to,” she whispered. “I don’t have a choice.”

Alarm bells rang in Alya’s head. “What do you mean?” she said urgently. “Is someone threatening you? Marinette, are you in danger?”

“No!” She thought for a moment. “Yes? Kind of? Not- not the way you’re thinking of!” she added hastily.

She didn’t know what she was thinking. Drugs? Gangs? A cult that’d ensnared Marinette in its clutches?

“Can I have your attention please?” Ms. Bustier said.

Alya turned to the front of the class, head still spinning. She still wasn’t totally sure how she felt about what Marinette had done, but she had bigger worries.

Something was wrong with Marinette. 

-----

That girl could be slippery when she wanted to be. 

She managed to avoid talking to Alya for the rest of Bustier’s class, not responding to any note-passing and hurrying out of the classroom the second the bell rang. With Marinette going home for lunch she had little opportunity to talk to her then, and as for their next period… Alya may be brave, but she wasn’t stupid. No talking in Ms. Mendeleiv’s class.

With a sigh, she watched Marinette run out of Francois-Dupont, somehow managing to take the stairs two at a time without falling. Clearly whatever it was, Marinette didn’t want to talk about it. 

But if it was hurting her…

She shook her head. She’d been thinking about this all day. It was time to get her mind off it, do something else. 

Nodding, she turned towards the park. Maybe some time climbing trees would help take her mind off things. And if it didn’t, it’d at least give her practice catching her siblings when they inevitably got themselves stuck in some high-up area. She could swear they had teleportation skills that they’d been hiding their whole lives just to prank the rest of the family with.

Chuckling to herself, she almost missed the flash of red out of the corner of her eye.

She whipped around. “Ladybug?!” 

The superhero froze, looking caught out. “Alya!” she said, sounding strangled. “What’re you doing here?” 

She shrugged. “Just enjoying the weather,” she said, pulling out her phone. “Would you be up for another interview?”

Ladybug started shaking her head before she even finished the sentence. “No, NOPE, nada, absolutely not!” she said, making an “X” with her arms for emphasis. “Not after yesterday. Not happening.”

She stashed her phone. “You just want to talk off the record then?”

The superheroine’s eyes widened a fraction. She nodded. “There’s… there’s something I could use your advice on.”

Something fluttered in Alya’s chest. Her idol needed her help? “I’ll do what I can,” she said, more confidently than she felt.

After going to a secluded part of the park, Ladybug turned to her. “You know a lot about superheroes right? About how we have to maintain a double life?”

Alya nodded. “It’s a comic book staple. Often causes a lot of trouble for the hero, but not as much as having their identity leaked to the world.”

“Yeah, I know what that trouble’s like,” Ladybug muttered to herself. Speaking more loudly, she looked at Alya. “I- I messed up. Badly. I forgot that I’d-” She paused. “Sorry, I need to be careful about this. I don’t want to expose myself.”

Alya nodded. 

After a minute, Ladybug tried again. “I needed to do something as Ladybug, but as a civilian, I’d already agreed to another responsibility at the same time,” she said carefully. “I couldn’t tell anyone that I needed to do something Ladybug-related without spilling my secret identity, but I also couldn’t get out of my civilian responsibility so I- I tricked someone into doing it instead. And they found out and they’re mad at me and I can’t BLAME them but I can’t tell them everything and I just don’t know what to do!” She looked at Alya pleadingly.

Her stomach twisted. “Seems to be a lot of deception going on lately,” she muttered, surprising even herself with how bitter she sounded. She blinked as Ladybug winced. 

Stop projecting your feelings about the sleepover onto Ladybug’s situation, they’re not the same! She scolded herself.

What would she do in Ladybug’s shoes? She couldn’t tell anyone her identity. She’d still want to be friends with this person. Just heaping on lies would make it worse when those came to light, alienating the friend (or former friend) even further.

“Have you explained as much as you could why you did it without giving away your secret identity?” Alya asked slowly. “Just… let them know that you do care about them, that you didn’t lie to them lightly, that you care about your feelings and you didn’t have a lot of options.” Ah, screw it. Maybe it was just because it’d been recent and she was still hurting and worried, but perhaps hearing it would help Ladybug with her own friend problems. “One of my friends recently tricked me into covering for her,” she said. “I’m still not sure why.”

“O-oh, really?” Ladybug said… nervously? Probably because it reminded her of her own friend.

“She vaguely explained to me why,” she continued. “What she was thinking and feeling at the time. She had another commitment too, but she didn’t tell me what it was.” She let out a deep sigh. “At least she didn’t lie about it - I think. I’d rather she not tell me, than lie about it.” A pebble sat near her shoe. Absentmindedly, she kicked it. “With how distraught she was when she explained it... I think she was sincere. That she doesn’t view me as a tool. That she was just in a tough spot,” she said. “That helps a lot.”

“I- I did explain,” Ladybug said, hope lifting her voice. “I think she believed me.”

Alya nodded. “In that case… I don’t think there’s much more you can do. Give her space, and try to avoid doing it again if you can.” She bit her lip. “Which might not be totally under your control considering Hawkbutt.” 

Ladybug stifled a giggle. 

She gave a small smile, snorting at her own joke. “Anyway, could I ask you a favor? So long as you don’t have any other commitments already, I don’t want to land you in hot water with anyone else,” she added hastily.

“Nothing to do with the Ladyblog, right?” Ladybug asked suspiciously.

As much as she’d like that… “No,” she said, shaking her head. “Actually, it has to do with a friend of mine. You know Marinette Dupain-Cheng?”

“Uh- NOPE never heard that name in my life! Who’s Marinette?” Ladybug said hastily, gesticulating wildly.

Huh. Weird. She could’ve sworn that Marinette had mentioned meeting Ladybug before, but come to think of it, she couldn’t remember a single instance of Marinette and Ladybug being in the same place at the same time-

Never mind, there was that time with Alix’s race. But if that was the only time, no wonder Ladybug didn’t remember her. She wasn’t even sure that anyone had said Marinette’s name while Ladybug was within earshot.

Aaaaaand there was that niggling sensation again. She wished it’d either divulge what it was getting at or leave her alone. 

She whipped out her phone, pulling up a picture she and Marinette had taken together a couple months ago. “Marinette’s my best friend,” she said, surprising herself with how sure she sounded. “We’re going through a bit of a rough patch right now, but… well, I’m still worried about her. She was the one who lied to me yesterday, and when I confronted her about it, she said something about not having a choice. It sounds like she’s in danger but she won’t tell me from what, and I’m not sure what could be the problem and… I’m just worried.” Looking up from her phone, she locked eyes with the superhero. “Could you check up on her, please? Maybe she’d talk to you even if she wouldn’t talk to me. And- and even if she doesn’t, I’d feel better if a superhero was looking out for her.”

“You really care about her, huh?,” Ladybug said, giving her a soft smile. “Even though you’re fighting.”

She nodded. “I’m not happy with her, and there are some things we still need to work out, but- yeah. I want to make sure she’s okay.”

“You’re a good friend, Alya. I’m sure she’s fine, but I’ll look after her as best I can.”

“Buginette?” a boy’s voice called. A black figure landed next to Ladybug, crouched in the classic superhero landing pose, one knee bent, one hand punching the ground.

Oooh, new Ladyblog idea! Top ten Chat Noir poses! Seriously, that cat could be a model with the way he effortlessly mugged for the camera.

Ladybug groaned. “Did I forget the time already?” 

“It’s fine,” Chat said, resting his stick on his shoulders. “Waiting made seeing you all the sweeter.”

The spotted heroine groaned again, for a different reason this time. Alya saw the corners of her lips quirk upwards ever-so-slightly, belying her annoyance. “Come on, you alley cat. Race you to the Tower!”

“Oh, you’re on!” 

Alya watched them run off. Well, pole vault and swing off, but you know. Semantics.

Turning around, she headed back home.

She had an article to write.

-----

Alya hummed as she walked into class, glancing at her phone. The Chat article had been a major hit, garnering several dozen comments within a few hours of posting, including from a user called “TheCatsMeow” who seemed weirdly invested in convincing everyone that Chat definitely had no experience modeling and his on-point posing was entirely due to natural talent and charisma. People picked the weirdest hills to die on. She’d been joking when she proposed that he was secretly a supermodel, but after having defended the possibility in a ten-commment-long exchange, she was starting to seriously consider it. Hm, maybe Adrien would have an idea of a possible identity lead…

“Oooof!”

“Augh!”

Note to self: Don’t walk while looking at your phone. Sure she never listened when Mom told her that, but maybe this time she’d have the self-control to hold off! Optimism!

“Sorry,” she said instinctively. And blinked. “Marinette? You’re EARLY?!”

She should text her mom to buy a lottery ticket.

“Yeah,” Marinette said, chuckling nervously. She seemed to be in much better shape this time. A little down, but it looked like she’d gotten some decent sleep. “I- I just thought- if you wanted to talk- never mind. You need space.”

Suspicions percolated in her mind. “I should go to the restroom before class starts. How about you?”

Marinette’s head whipped up. “Yeah, sure, better to be safe than sorry. You know me, always needing to race to the toilet!” She rubbed the back of her neck.

“Every other akuma attack it seems like,” Alya said, walking down the hallway with her friend. “I swear, something about it being an inconvenient time makes you need to go even more.”

“Yep, that’s totally the reason!” Marinette agreed.

They walked for a moment in silence while she tried to gather her thoughts. “You know about my advice to Ladybug, don’t you?” she said at last.

“Ack-!” Marinette tripped on air, but managed to save herself at the last second. “Uh, no, that’s ridiculous, how could I know about that? It’s not like I was there or anything.”

She cocked an eyebrow. “Uh huh. And it’s pure coincidence that you concluded I needed space the day after I gave that advice to Ladybug to help with her own friend problem?”

“Uuuuuh…” Marinette looked off to the side, before releasing a long sigh. “Yeah, you’re right. Ladybug talked to me last night, and well… your conversation came up. I figured our problems were similar enough, and you were the one giving the advice, so… maybe if I followed it, we could make up?”

Marinette wanted to go back to normal, to laugh and joke and just.. enjoy each other’s company again. And Alya… she wanted that too. 

She knew Marinette hadn’t meant to hurt her. And she understood why Marinette had done what she’d done. 

Well, except for what prompted Marinette to need to lie in the first place. She just had a gut feeling it was a cult, some sort of secret society. She was sure Miraculous had been around for awhile, that several historical figures had used them, and she could just bet that there was some sort of secret group watching over them from the shadows. She just needed a thread to follow, something that could lead her back to the guardians-

NOT THE TIME, BRAIN.

Abruptly, she stopped. “I- I want that too,” she said softly. “I don’t like fighting. I want my friend back.” She gave Marinette a hard look. “If Ladybug told you my advice, then you already know what I’m about to say. I don’t like being lied to - not like that. Not as part of a manipulation. You had your reasons, I get that, but I don’t think I could take that a second time. Unless someone’s in danger if you don’t, please, don’t lie to me. If you can’t tell me something or why you’re asking me to do a thing, just tell me that. I can’t promise to like it, but it’s better than being tricked.”

Marinette bit her lip and nodded. “I think- yeah. Yeah, I can do that,” she said, gaining confidence.

Alya smiled. “In that case…” she took off. “Race you to the bathrooms!”

“Hey, no running in the halls!” Marinette said, but her laughter undercut her words. As did her immediately overtaking Alya.

Girl could move fast when she wanted to.

------

(Several months later)

“And I… I’m Ladybug”

“This makes everything make so much more sense.”

#miraculous ladybug #ml fanfic #alya cesaire #marinette dupain cheng #prime queen

[ktheist]

1 | play me like a toy [m]

title inspired by blackpink’s sure thing cover.

⟶ read the last part, all yours to enjoy, here.

muses. mafia heiress!reader x ex-mafia!director!hoseok

genre. age gap factor. chaebol-mafia family au. arranged marriage au. office au. modern au.

words. 5.8k

warnings. contains smut. mentions of gun use. mentions of cheating.

verse. knj. ksj. myg. kth. pjm. jjk. jhs. 

synopsis. 

sit still, look pretty. 

such were the words your maid-turned-mistress of a mother has ever taught you. the mindless marionette mask worked for the most parts. but when you find yourself hanging by a thread - or is it the beeping line of your dying father’s heart rate monitor? - you decide it’s time to shed off that mask and seek han group’s infamous loyal dog that went off radar 17 years ago.

jung hoseok.

alternatively;

“marry me or be killed.”

“is there a third option?”

“we fucked but you were too drunk to remember so that option’s invalid.”

x

jung hoseok is in a dry spell.

there was no doubt as to whether he could score a date, get laid and maybe even have his nightstand to call him up again exactly the week after.

the issue was time.

with his boss and longtime friend getting married, he ends up coming to work with a different pile of papers on his desk every day. well, it was his idea to sign a promissory note that if kim namjoon ever found a woman he loved and married, hoseok would take half of the ceo-ly workload so his overbearing boss could enjoy his honeymoon and truly, as hoseok would put it, live.

the order went a little differently but namjoon found a hole in the way the sentences were worded that got him flying away to the caribbean and leaving hoseok to fend for himself in these trying times.

oh, and it’s almost hit the third month of the newly weds going mia.

in the first place, he didn’t think namjoon would hold the agreement over his head like he was flexing a few hundred thousand dollar’s worth of lawsuit.

but the man did just that and now hoseok is slaving over his nine-to-five which actually tend to drag on till ten or, if he’s lucky, even midnight. sure, he got promoted from head secretary to director but he’s wondering if this endless cycle of coming back home only pass out in the bed and wake up earlier than a parent with a toddler - is worth it.

hoseok groans, his hand grabbing around for his phone to put a stop on that obnoxious alarm even if it’s just for five minutes before he has to hear it again.

and grab something he did, but this so called phone feels too soft to be a phone and shapes like an cup but softer and - he puts more pressure to his grasp out of confusion -

“mhm, what the hell?”

- it complains in a groggy voice too.

almost as if pricked by a needle, hoseok leaps right out of bed, sending the duvet flying to the floor and revealing the naked woman - you - who’s stretching her limbs whilst her face scrunches in displeasure at the rude awakening.

“__-___?! wh-what the- what are you doing in my bed?”

x

“so you touched my boob,” you say, legs crossed and arms folded over said boob.

“i-i-” it’s the first time you’ve ever seen hoseok opened his eyes so wide - he has pretty eyes. especially when they’re brimming with fear and bashfulness, “i’m sorry, i have no excuse.”

he hangs his head low.

“why didn’t you touch the other one?”

it’s then, when hoseok’s eyes snap up to you, gaze searching for a sign - any sign, to confirm that he misheard that, does the man realize that you’re messing with him.

that, and you doubling over with laughter trickling out of your mouth should be affirmation enough.

“god, you should’ve seen your face, hobi!” you’re still holding your stomach when hoseok’s shoulders stiffen and his round eyes turn sharp.

“that’s not something you joke about, ___,” he says, it’s easy to mistake his sternness with anger if you didn’t know him your whole life, “are you gonna let it go every time someone disrespects you? mr. han would’ve snapped their neck in half-”

“hoseok, come on,” you cut him off with a dismissive hand, “none of those gory talks about snapping necks and pulling out nails. that’s the reason i end up here in the first place.”

it’s the way silence lulls into the room and hoseok looks at you with the hardest knitted brows and eyes that seem to have retracted his soul far back into his memories, as though searching for something - that makes your heart drop.

all sense of humor now gone.

“you don’t remember what happened last night... do you?” the last part is just an addition to ease your throbbing heart.

if you’d left it as a statement, it made it more real that he did forget.

just a man, sitting at a half empty bar, three shots of vodka in and hostility in his voice that could’ve killed but so very hoseok of him, “that seat’s taken.”

aloof. distant. and every word in the book that described a man who didn’t want to be bothered and he drowned himself in alcohol.

“i’ll leave once the owner comes back,” you’d slipped into the seat anyway, despite the heat of hoseok’s stare.

not paying any heed, you ordered yourself a margarita.

“it’s been awhile, hasn’t it, hobi?”

that’s when he turned to you. truly looked at you.

“do you perhaps have a little sister who,” his eyebrows began to knit as if the screws in his head started turning, “would be about your age by now... ____?”

you didn’t really catch up. all you could remember was hoseok’s calculative stare as he watched you down one drink after the other. the the chilliness of the margarita somewhat soothing the burning sensation as it went down your throat.

“that’s the fifth for you,” his large hand covered yours, stopping you from picking up the glass as he cautioned you.

“yeah? i’m only stopping if i have something else to occupy my mouth with.”

in his distracted state as he tried to make sense of what your words meant, you lifted the glass to your mouth and downed the last of your drink.

and then, you stood up, walked the tiniest distance between your seat and his, grabbed him by the collar and crashed your lips on his.

you remembered your confidence dissipating like air with every second passing without hoseok so much as responding to your kiss.

maybe it was the shock.

because one that passed, you found his arm around your waist and his lips kissing you harder than you kissed him.

you stumbled into your car, not caring if yeojun had a front row view from the rearview mirror of the things that transpired at the back seat. you barely remember the walk from the parking lot to his apartment.

those sweet whispered promises. the hands that burned your skin with every touch. those eyes that pierced right into your eyes, as if invisible hands reached into your soul and grasped it in his palm.

“mine,” hoseok husked, voice sending ripples of pleasure dripping down your legs. he’d thrust himself balls deep inside you, like a beast who hadn’t had a drop of water since the drought, “you’re mine from head to toe.”

if that wasn’t enough, he fucked you raw until you were at your limit and he’d just... stop.

“hoseok, why-” you’d been breathless, skin glistening with sweat and knees trembling to give in but he’d banded an arm under your torso and held you to him so your bodies remained connected even if none of you moved.

“you think i’d just let you cum so easily?” he placed a hand on your ass, as if warning you what would happen if you’d pull away, “after all these years... you grew up fine as fuck.”

he’d languidly pulled out of you, as if knowing how torturous it felt for you with his fingers on your clit that sent electricity through your veins.

“what is it, hm? is it the kang’s or is it the seong’s? i guess the rumor about boss being hospitalized was true,” his words barely registered in your mind as his index finger touched your back and traced down your spine whilst he started thrusting in and out of you agonizingly slow.

“please, just fuck me,” you’d hissed, pain and pleasure and frustrations mixed in your voice.

“hm, still as tight-lipped as ever, huh?” he’d sounded completely relaxed as if the smacking sound that echoed in the air as his body slammed against your deliciously - didn’t affect him in the slightest.

as if he took no pleasure in fucking you. as if this was only for your poor little soul that came running back to him because you had no one to depend on.

“y-you have to- ah! s-swear your l-loyalty to- oh my god,” it was last night, while the citylights poured through hoseok’s window, his room was directly across another apartment building.

“loyalty, huh?” he tested the words on his mouth, as if it was a foreign candy gifted to him as present.

his body feels hot against your back as he lowered himself flush against you, his breath fanning your sweat-glistened skin, his voice brushing the shell of your ear, “you should know i’m yours as much as you’re mine. nothing i wouldn’t do for you, kiddo.”

he’d used that nickname he’d used to call you as he fucked you into his bed, and sent you moaning his name like you wouldn’t know any other name.

anyone could’ve seen.

neither of you cared though.

well-

you throw your gaze out at the twenty storey building, noticing a man vacuuming the living room three units to the left from the unit directly across from hoseok’s. above him, two kids, a boy and a girl are jumping around while holding an airplane in their hands.

-until now, that is.

hoseok had become an entirely different person last night. no - rather, he’d returned to you as the man you’d always kept in that special spot in your heart and locked it up so no one would be able to see past your steel schooled expression and the devil may care nature.

“i...”

your gaze snaps back to hoseok once again. he parts his lips for the briefest moment, as if to say something but clamps them shut again. the way his eyes gleam with guilt is enough to tell you the unspoken words that hang in the air.

and yet, your heart hardens like the steel mask you often wear on your face.

“and... to think i gave you my virginity too...”

the silence that lapses between you is tangible.

“sike, i’m kidding,” you grin, brows rising to the ceiling but when hoseok doesn’t so much as laugh or frown - he simply looked at you like a parent disappointed of his child who still didn’t see why what she did was wrong - you tilt your head to the side slightly, “or am i?”

“ugh, you’re no fun,” you throw your head back after failing to gouge a reaction from the man who screamed bloody murder as if you’re some street rat that he was so close to calling infestation control.

“i need to meet mr. han,” he announces after a whole solid minute of sitting on the edge of the bed with feet planted on the floor.

“what for? what are you gonna tell daddy? ‘i’m sorry i took your daughter’s virginity, sir, it won’t happen again?’“ you watch him get up, tongue unconsciously slipping out and sweeping over your bottom lip as you watch the curve of his ass as he walks to the closet and disappears into it.

“were you really a virgin?” he comes out dressed in fresh crisp button down tucked in a pair of black pants, a contrast to his rolled up sleeves, creased shirt and disheveled hair from last night.

“i don’t know, did it feel like i was?” you shoot him a coquettish smile.

the gentle protrusion of his adam’s apple bobs up and down, his lingering gaze on your crossed, bare legs not going unnoticed by you. you’re donned in last night’s dinner dress that hugs your curves and stops mid thighs.

but his gaze is gone too soon.

“you’re not seriously going to daddy, are you?” you tug on his sleeve just before he steps out of the door, “hobi, i’m just kidding, i’ve been with multiple guys before you,” the way his brows threaten to knit into a frown doesn’t go pass you but it’s gone too soon, “and does daddy like the idea? he’s not fond of it, but he knows he can’t stop me from doing whatever i want with my own body.”

the beep of the door as he opens it rings in the air as he looks at you in the eye, “did any of those men work for mr han?” 

only silence follows his reply as you bite your lower lip, hesitant.

“we can’t hide this- mr han might already know. he has eyes and ears-” hoseok steps out of the door only to stop dead in track when he sees at least half a dozen men lined up in front of his apartment in black suits.

“good morning, miss ____.” they bow at exactly 90 degrees angle like robots.

“-everywhere...” hoseok trails off, eyes scanning the area on high alert.

“don’t worry, they’re not daddy’s men. they’re my men,” you raise one hand, index finger pointing to the ceiling as you shoot them an expression void of any smile.

they seem to understand that as they dip into a bow again, the leader, yeojun, stops in front of the elevator when he and his men would have joined you in any other circumstances.

“it’s not about saving my own ass, ___,” hoseok begins.

the way his arms cross over his chest makes his sleeves wrap deliciously around his biceps.

his deep brown eyes appear like a hazel storm under the sunlight that pours from every crevice of the parking lot where the elevator stopped at. “mr. han asked me to protect you from everything and i’m sure he hired someone else after i left to keep trash men away from you... and to think i did exactly what he wanted me to protected you from-” 

“hobi,” nimble hands hover over his chest before you gaze up at him through your lashes, making sure to give it a slow, innocent blink before speaking, “i didn’t regret what happened last night. and you trying to apologize for someone i’m not sorry kind of hurts.”

“i’m sorry i didn’t think of it that way...” he trails off, lips pressed in a straight line as though deep in thought.

“if it makes you that uncomfortable, i won’t talk about it but promise me this stays between us, please?” you hold up a pinky finger like you would when you were younger.

the smile that makes its way to hoseok lips causes your heart to palpitate just when it’s barely calmed down.

his pinky finger is much larger than yours as it hooks around yours in a promise, a ghost of a smile tugging on his lips. as if he’s still unsure if he should be making any promises. as if he’s unsure if he should be hooking his pinky with yours instead of pushing you as far away from him as he could. but before he can come to a conclusion, a voice reverberates into the air.

“miss ____.”

the sound of hoseok sucking in a sharp breath rings in your ear as a dozen men in black suits bow at the sight of you.

before another word comes out from anyone else, you speak, voice echoing against the walls.

“listen up you sons of bitches, if i find out any of you snitched to daddy, i’ll make sure your wife, your husband, your kids, your grandparents, hell even your neighbors pay for it. got it?”

a round of rigorous “yes, miss!” follows after the splitting silence that hovered after you finished.

turning around, almost getting lost in those pretty, star entrapped eyes of his, you smile, “see, they’re loyal to me.”

“uh, i can see why.” it’s the humorous tone that finally wraps around hoseok’s words that makes your heart clench painfully.

he’s still the same hoseok you know.

some things never change.

“well, i’ll lend you one of my cars,” you say all of a sudden.

almost as if hit by a foul ball, hoseok’s eyes widen, “shi- what time is it?”

you don’t expect much when you check your phone, the digits on the screen staring back with a 9-something am - you don’t care to check the details, “late.”

“fuck, i was so focused on gathering enough balls to meet mr. han - i need to get the papers i was supposed to look over for today’s meeting,” a string of curses follow hoseok’s scampering retreat. and you simply watch in your spot - he’s always been such a klutz, forgetting the important details and scrambling to get what he’d forgotten and just remembered - done.

before the doors of the elevator close and swallow him in its belly, hoseok’s nimble fingers slip between the shutting gap, making the doors split open again, “oh,” he says, as if remembering something, “you don’t have to do that - i can drive, i got a driver’s license like, eons ago.”

right.

when he left, he was only 18 and had nothing more but a duffle bag filled with all his belongings and an acceptance letter of the university he applied to.

hoseok had been driving you around everywhere before that. he got pulled over by a cop once but your father easily handled that.

jung hoseok’s been with you for as long as you remember.

you recall bawling your eyes out and clinging onto his leg, begging him not to leave because your nanny left and you found out a few months later that her body was found washed up along the river bank near her hometown.

mr. kim, the gardener quit and said he wanted to visit his kids but the whole family ended up dying in a fire.

everyone who left ends up dead.

pushing the somber feeling that’s threatening to pull the muscles in your face into a frown, you shake your head, an amused smirk tugging on your lips as you mask away every other feeling.

“you really don’t remember anything, do you?” somewhere in that innocently clueless gaze of his, you search for a lie - it would’ve been better if he lied about forgetting for whatever reason.

but when the genuinity over pours from those pretty eyes, you push away the gnawing feeling in your heart, “we were both shit faced drunk last night so we came to your place with my driver and you left your car at the bar’s parking lot.”

“oh shit,” he begins punching the button on the inside of the elevator, “i won’t take long, i pro-”

the metal doors gradually shut, cutting off what he was about to say.

x

“p-please, i’m sorry, i’ll do anything...” the man’s words got blurred out as you stare out the window of his medium sized flat with a master bedroom, a room and a bathroom connected to the common area.

it’s been a week since you met hoseok. you want to be mad that he doesn’t call, especially after not seeing each other for so long and finally reuniting only for him to forget everything about that night.

but you didn’t even give him your number and you may or may not be mad that he didn’t think to ask.

a bloodcurdling scream drums against your eardrums, making you physically flinch as your head snaps towards the man lying on the ground with his mouth wide open and no longer any sound coming out.

his head is titled at the new guy who’s standing over him with a baton gripped in one hand. the sight itself makes the pit of your stomach churn.

“god fucking damn it, yeojun,” you shoot a glare at the head bodyguard, “didn’t you teach him rule number 1? make no sound, catch no attention?”

at that, yeojun snaps his fingers and two of the bodyguards closest to the new guy - soon? soobin? was his name? - approach him. one of them places a firm hand on his shoulder whilst he kicks soobin behind his knee, sending him kneeling with a thud.

“i’m sorry, miss ___, it seems soobin,” ah so you did get his name right, “needs to join mr. yoo here in learning a thing or two about obeying orders.”

yeojun doesn’t even flinch when one of your donned-in-black bodyguard strikes one of their own at the back of his head with that baton they usually carry around their waist.

soobin’s face scrunches up painfully as he breathes out through his nose, teeth gritting together.

“you boys, break some things and you, get the car ready,” with that, the bodyguards hovering over the middle-aged borrower and soobin begin scampering around, toppling shelves over, pushing vases to the ground and breaking plates in the kitchen.

“you were too nice,” yeojun murmurs underneath his breath once you’re in the hallway, the sound of glass shattering and furniture breaking still echo off the walls.

“i shouldn’t even be doing this shit anyway. who does he think i am? sending me to take care of small fries...” agitated, you shoot yeojun a glare.

to which he only responds with raised eyebrows, as if asking if you’d go against your brother’s orders just because you’ve never liked to see violence yet violence follows you everywhere.

“let’s see.... richest bachelor, heir to han group, one of the biggest conglomerate family that runs the underground ring...” the black haired man starts counting off with his finger until you swing your purse to his side.

“which side are you on? me or my chanyeol’s?!”

laughter trickles down his lips as he follows you into the elevator. somewhere in the distance, the hallway faintly rings with the fading sound of mr. yoo’s helpless pleas.

x

when you arrive at kimcorp, the secretary shoots up from your seat, her smile is gorgeous and welcoming but the knitted set of brows above her eyes do a poor job of hiding her anxiousness.

odd.

you didn’t use the han name to get past the receptionist, only mentioning “hoseok is expecting me, tell him i have something of his he’d really like back.”

was it the lavish dinner dress? was it the couture handbag?

“ah, it’s the fox fur, isn’t it?” you twirl on your heels, lips curling prettily as you narrow your eyes at the startled secretary.

she’s standing there like a thief caught red-handed. as if her worst nightmares came true the moment you started saying something besides the “i’m here to see jung hoseok.”

“i-i’m sorry, ma’am?” her shoulders tense up and her smile doesn’t quite reach her eyes.

“nothing, it’s nothing,” you put on a billion dollar smile - one that she seems to be struggling to wear.

before the poor thing peed her pants, you turn around, your back on her and push on the double doors of the office with a white plate that spells out “head director jung.”

the syllables of your name roll off the mouth of the man behind the large desk that almost takes up half of the room, piles of documents stacked up on either sides while the middle section is cleared for a mac and a macbook perched directly in front of him.

“you sound surprised, didn’t the receptionist tell you i was coming?” you put on your best smile even as you watch him push a button on a smaller-than-a-palm-sized remote directed at the cctv and dash for the blinds and close them so that the secretaries facing his room won’t have any visual access to what goes on from now on.

“yeji didn’t specify who,” he says mindlessly, still peeking through the blinds - possibly to check if anyone noticed the sudden move.

somehow, hearing the name of another woman leaving hoseok’s lips doesn’t sit right with you.

“since you easily told her to send me right up, i assume you have an idea of who it was,” a devious smile tugs in the corners of your lips as the sound of hoseok sucking in a sharp breath brushes your ears.

as he was in the middle of turning around and facing you, you managed to catch him off guard and trap him between the window and yourself. the ridges of his toned abs brushing against your front torso with only layers of clothing separating you.

the warning tone he uses to say your name with is music to your ears.

he sounded like the old him. the old hoseok who’d drive his fist into anyone’s face without batting an eye. the old hoseok who would turn to your crying frame with the sweetest smile and hand you back your backpack that fell on the ground amidst the struggle of trying to bite and kick your kidnappers in the shin.

“i missed you, you know?” your voice is tinged with playfulness but your heart skips a beat like a schoolgirl with a crush.

“i-i... we...”

the words get stuck in his throat the moment your lips brush his. what surprises you is the softest sigh that leaves his mouth before a large hand buries itself in your hair, pulling you close until he’s tasting you. licking your bottom lip as if asking for something he didn’t need to ask for in the first place.

his free hand grasps your ass as if he’s been dying to feel your soft cheeks in his palm. you part your lips for him, tasting the faintest sense of cigarette in his breath.

hoseok tends to smoke when something bothers.

you hope it’s you. you hope he lays in bed at night, staring at the ceiling. you hope you’re all he thinks about.

by the time you pull apart, you’re both heaving for air. a soft thud drums in your ears as hoseok leans his head against the blinds-covered-window. you press your cheek against his chest, face hot.

one of his hands sits on top of your ass as if paying his overdue respect for your body but yet unwilling to let you go. the other rests on the back of your head, his thumb mindlessly caressing your scalp.

“hoseok?” you’re the first to break the silence.

he simply hums in response, “hm?”

“i can’t give it back,” you turn your cheek to bury your face in his chest, your voice coming out muffled, “i can’t give back your freedom.”

x

“so you’re saying you can’t let me go...” hoseok echoes the words you say to him.

but the way his lips curl into a pleased smirk and his white shirt creasing at the front from having your bodies pressed together a moment ago, gives those words a different meaning than you intend them to.

somehow, the distance between you seems smaller.

“thanks miyeon,” hoseok’s smile switches to that of a kind, considerate superior.

miyeon, the woman who guided you to hoseok’s office returns his smile. but you don’t miss the cautious gaze she throws your way before slipping out of the room after setting down the tea cups.

he’s back to himself. the kind that jumps at every little sound and tends to wear a frightened puppy look almost too often.

“no, rather...” you trail off, chanyeol’s face burning at the back of your mind - your brother, the heir to han group and the man that will marry you off to the kang’s in order to mend the strain in the family ties as soon as your father breathes out his last breath.

you shake your head, a smile on your face, “it’s been awhile, how bout catching up over lunch?”

and so it goes, you visit hoseok every few days in a week. at times you tell the secretary to keep your visit a secret so you could surprise him, you’d end up catching him neck deep in work yet he still manages to pull off the rolled up sleeves, two buttons undone and slicked back hair with a single strand falling over his forehead, its tip grazing those set of strong eyebrows.

when you knock, he looks up and the tension in his brows seem to fade away. he shoots you a dimpled smile as if he’s been waiting for you to whisk him away from work.

and you do just that. arm looped around his, you both walk out of his office like lovers.

hoseok talks about his past - the one you’re not part of - fondly. as if looking through a lense of something he never dreamed he could have.

at first, he attracted the wrong kind of crowd with his permanently set furrowed brows. but then he finds things he enjoys doing outside of classes that he couldn’t get to enjoy when he was with han group.

dancing, tracks, boxing and more. he likes that rush of adrenaline that courses through his veins. 

and you tell him about the meetings and gatherings and social events to maintain your relationships with the vassal families. they’re usually attended by the women of the han family which means you and han chohee would be smiling and laughing together in front of the wives and daughters of the vassal families before taking off that loving step-mother-and-step-daughter facade once you walk out of the vicinity.

your lunches and dinners are spent with trips down memory lane, filling the other in on the moments each of you miss in each other’s lives. and for a moment, the hoseok in front of you who flinches at the sight of bugs and little, random noises feel familiar.

that is, until you hit your one month reunion mark.

chanyeol’s been gathering support of the vassals by personally accepting their invitations.

his presence easily overshadowed yours and yeojun confirmed that your father’s condition isn’t getting any better.

“i need you to come back and work for me, half of the men would drop everything and follow you,” you stare at the girl staring back at you on the surface of the tea. she bites her lips and you feel the faintest taste of blood in your mouth.

eyes snapping to his calculative ones - as if he already knows what you’re going to say before the words even pass your lips, “i need you by my side so i can take over han group.”

the hoseok sitting in the single couch next to you with parted legs and feet planted on the dark carpeted ground fits the head director setting better than the inked skin, cigarette smoke and gun-in-waistline setting you’re about to drag him in.

“you’re willing to go against chanyeol to become the head of the family?” he asks, eyes clouded with a sort of emotion you can’t pinpoint.

hoseok’s always been an enigma. his mind, a maze you’ll never end up figuring out.

guess that part of him is still the same.

“it’s not a choice for me to make,” a clean click! resonates in the air as you place the gun you’d pulled from your garter, point facing him, index finger on the trigger, “you have two though.”

it’s the way his eyebrows rise whilst his eyes glint with amusement tells you that hoseok - your hoseok - is still somewhere in there.

throw a sane man into an asylum and he’ll start going insane. put a mad man  back in society and he’ll trick you into believing he’s sane with his warm, dimpled smile.

“marry me or be killed,” you say simply.

that amused glint is still there, granted, it shines faintly compared to the caution that overflows from those sun-hit brown eyes as they fix themselves on the gun perched on the see-through coffee table before they travel to your knuckles, to your arm and meet your steel gaze.

his the softest protrusion of his adam’s apple drops and rises again as he swallows, “is there a third option?”

“we fucked but you were too drunk to remember so that option’s invalid.”

the air is dense with tension. it fills up your lungs and almost causes your chest to cave. you’re not sure how long to stay there, stiff and still like a rock with your back straightened as if your etiquette teacher was hovering right behind you with a long, wooden ruler that’d be ready to strike your arm at a slump of your shoulders.

but liberation comes to you in the form of a phone call.

“___, we have to go, th-the boss- the doctor says he’s not gonna make it through the night.” it’s the first time you’ve heard yeojun stammer as if he hasn’t quite yet recovered from the shock of the news he’s relaying to you.

“are you sure?” you can almost hear the thump of the organ in your chest slowing down before it ceases to throb completely, “you know how bad chanyeol wanna fuck me up, he could’ve made the doctor tell you this because he knows you’ll tell me and if... if i rush there and daddy’s laughing that obnoxious laugh while trying to make pass on the nurse like he usually does...”

yeojun grunts, “yes, ___. i have men planted there as patients, nurses, janitors and they all say the same thing - that the doctors are rushing to the vip ward and they’re trying to make it look like your usual hourly check up but it’s not... look, this is the real thing. if we mess up, there won’t be another chance. now, did you convince hoseok to come back?”

almost as if reminded that you’re not the only person in the room, your eyes snap to hoseok whose eyes are already fixed on you with a concerned expression.

“he’ll come back.” with that, you hang up the call.

“i’d love for you to think it through for a few days, realize this isn’t really a life you want and come to me on your own to sign our prenups,” you say casually, placing down the teacup and slipping your phone back into your handbag as if you’re getting ready to leave the tea party, “but...”

but before you can lift the gun and fully point it at him, a large hand covers yours. his warmth seeps through your pores and makes your body feel warmer.

“the gun’s a bit excessive,” his breath fans your face as your eyes fix on the supple skin of his neck.

it’s as if invisible hands reached out and held your head in place, forbidding you from tilting it and gazing into his eyes. his fingers reach over the back of the gun, grazing your hands.

a click cuts through the silence.

“at the very least, unlock the safety,” his teasing tone doesn’t match his saddened eyes.

and just as you thought you’d closed the distance between you and him, the circumstance forces you to take five steps back.

#bts scenarios #bts smut #hoseok smut #hoseok fic #bts fic #bts x you #bts x reader #hoseok x you #hoseok x reader #bts fanfic #hoseok fanfic #hoseok scenarios

[ohhipstaplease]

idk if you're still doing prompts but nh + fluff 15? I'm sorry about all the fluff pieces but I live for fluff 😅

I’m sorry if it isn’t as fluffy as usual but I HAD to write something Team 8 centric to soothe my soul today. I can see this turning into a full fanfic though...at some point (I promise)

Fluff #15: “She’s/he’s not my boyfriend!”

After Hinata confesses to Naruto—and her “I love you” goes right over his head—Kiba takes matters into his hands to (finally) get the two idiots together.

Post Pain-Arc | Canon Divergence | Jealous (!) Naruto | Ao3

“You look cute today,” Kiba said nonchalantly to his teammate as she walked towards him. 

The Hyuga beauty had uncharacteristically pulled her hair up onto the top of her head in a high ponytail, her delicate features now on display for the world to see.

Hinata, already used to Kiba’s compliments, didn’t bat an eye when he said it, she simply responded, “Thank you! I just wanted to try something a little different,” She patted Akamaru’s head in greeting, the gentle giant licking her palm as she giggled.

Kiba took the opportunity to sneak up behind her and pull on her ponytail slightly, wanting to fix the slight hairs that were sticking out. He adjusted the simple lavender tie she had placed upon the top of it for good measure as well. 

Had anyone happened upon the pair, they probably would have thought there was more between them than a simple friendship, but they were used to it. Hinata didn’t even try to push him off, she simply let him fix her hair and looked up at him with a thankful smile when he was finished.

They were meeting up to have lunch, a much needed distraction after all the chaos that had ensued in the village during Pain’s attack. Unfortunately Shino was unable to join the pair for a well-deserved day off, leaving them to their own devices.

Kiba nodded as he stepped back and appreciated his work, “I like it. I’m sure Naruto will too,” He smirked.

She exhaled, her cheeks red and splotchy, “We’re not going to let it go, are we?”

“Hinata, you confessed to him.”

“It was in the middle of battle...spur of the moment,” She tried, suddenly regretting admitting to Kiba and Shino that she had, in fact, told the love of her life, Naruto Uzumaki, her true feelings for him. She knew they’d never let it go, not until Naruto gave her an answer either way. 

She just wasn’t ready to hear what he had to say. Even if he was ready to face what she had said to him head-on, “Besides,” she mumbled, “he didn’t even acknowledge it...”

“You told him you loved him...you literally died for him. How could the idiot not see it?”

She shrugged pathetically, “It is what it is, don’t worry, Kiba.”

He sighed and stuffed his hands in his pockets when suddenly it hit him. An idea so genius, even Shino had to approve. Akamaru, sensing that Kiba was about to say something Shino would in fact not approve of, whined and hit his master gently on his leg with his paw. 

Kiba ignored him, knowing that what he had in mind was just too perfect not to share, “Hinata?”

“Yes?”

“What if...what if we made Naruto jealous? Just to make him see what he’s missing.”

“W-what?”

“It’s the oldest trick in the book, Hyuga,” He took her hand into his as if he had done it millions of times before, “We go on a fake date, act all cute and shit, and when he sees us together he’ll magically realize his feelings for you. You know, because someone else has what he thought was his and all that bullshit?”

“You’re insane.”

“I know what boys are like, Hinata.”

She looked down at their interlaced fingers and sighed, “You’re sure this will work?”

“If it doesn’t, I’ll pay for lunch.”

“And dessert?”

“As many cinnamon rolls as your heart desires.”

Hinata exhaled and nodded, “Alright. I mean, there’s nothing left to lose, right?”

“That’s the spirit!” 

Kiba led Hinata forward, Akamaru following close behind. He was sure his plan was going to work, after all, he barely had enough to cover his portion of lunch. That alone should have proved how confident Kiba was that he’d get Naruto and Hinata to finally acknowledge their feelings for each other. 

.

.

.

.

.

.

“Okay, just follow my lead,” Kiba said as he spotted Naruto at his usual stool at Ichiraku. 

“Naruto! How are you? Healing up okay?” Kiba asked as he sat down next to the blonde, his hand still in Hinata’s.

Naruto squinted at them, tilting his head, “I-I’m fine. Thanks for asking...”

“That’s good to hear, we all deserve some time off after that mess, right Hinata?”

Hinata didn’t dare meet Naruto’s gaze, simply nodded and pretended as if he wasn’t even there. 

“Two bowls of pork miso ramen, please!” Akamaru barked and Kiba smiled down at him, “Oh right, it’s a special occasion. Make that three bowls!”

“Special occasion?” Naruto asked.

“Nothing you have to worry about, just celebrating a certain someone saying yes to a question I asked,” He said, looking at Hinata.

Naruto’s cheeks grew redder by the second as he studied them, “W-what?”

“I asked Hinata to be my girlfriend,” Kiba said, holding up her hand in his, “And she said yes.” He roughly pulled her into his embrace and pressed his cheek to hers, “Isn’t it great?”

Akamaru groaned behind the three, trying to ignore what was happening before him. It was getting a little too painful to watch. Kiba had never been known for his tact after all.

“So you two...are...dating?”

Hinata tried to interject, feeling sick over everything that was unfolding, “N-no we-” 

Kiba quickly slapped a hand over Hinata’s mouth and laughed, “Yeah! I confessed to her right after we got back to the village. I mean, it just seemed to be the right time and all, considering everything that happened.”

Naruto let out a breath and instead of continuing the conversation further, he flagged down Teuchi, “Old man, how much do I owe you?”

Teuchi quickly put up a hand and waved Naruto off, “Oh, no, we could never charge the village hero. Not after everything. Consider it on the house.”

Naruto nodded solemnly, gave a glance Kiba and Hinata’s way, and quickly turned to leave.

“Kiba!” Hinata said in a panic, “That definitely couldn’t have been a part of your plan!”

Kiba huffed, “Yeah...I didn’t think he’d just walk away like that. Maybe we need to try a different-”

Hinata ignored Kiba and decided to take matters into her own hands, what she should have done in the first place, really.

She got up from her seat, a flustered mess, and chased after Naruto. She screamed out without thinking, “Naruto-Kun!”

His head turned immediately towards her, his brow furrowed in confusion, “Hinata?”

“Naruto-” She panted, attempting to catch her breath as she caught up to him. 

“What are you doing? Aren’t you on...” He took a breath as he stuffed his hands in his pockets, a pout playing upon his lips, “Aren’t you on a date with your boyfriend?”

“He’s not my boyfriend!” She yelled out, a little too passionately.

Naruto stifled a laugh at how ridiculously cute she looked. Her ponytail was slightly askew, her cheeks flushed and her lips ridiculously red from her biting her bottom lip. He had been biding his time since he had returned from the village, waiting to approach Hinata and talk about everything that had happened. About what she had said to him.

“Then why did he...”

Hinata sighed, so clearly embarrassed for going along with it. But...she quickly realized that Naruto was...jealous? She could see it in his eyes, the way he acted back at Ichiraku. He was clearly bothered by what had happened. Kiba was actually...right.

So she gathered her courage and firmly asked, “Why do you care?”

“Huh?”

“Whether or not Kiba and I are dating....why do you care?”

Naruto furrowed his brow, “I don’t, I-I just,” He groaned, “Hinata, it doesn’t matter.”

“It does matter!”

“Why!?”

“I told you I loved you!”

Naruto looked at her wide-eyed, clearly in shock. Of course he knew she had confessed her feelings, but...they were also in the middle of a battle. He thought that...that maybe it wasn’t true. It was an adrenaline-fueled confession that she would walk back the moment they got back. That maybe...maybe she meant she loved him like she loved her teammates. That he was her precious friend, just as Sakura and Sasuke were his. He never imagined in his wildest dreams that the girl he’d always taken notice of always wanted to protect had been watching him too. That he’d grow to want to take care of her, to ensure she was okay. He didn’t know what that meant then, but he did now.

He didn’t understand his feelings until that day, in the midst of battle, and it killed him to think it took them nearly dying for him to comprehend that what he felt for her was far greater than friendship. 

“I-I know...” He managed to mutter, “It was just such a crazy day, Hinata. I thought that maybe I misheard you, or that you didn’t mean it in the way you did. I didn’t want to embarrass you by bringing it up again. I mean...we haven’t even talked since we got back.”

“Then let’s talk,” She said, looking down and shyly placing a strand of hair behind her ear.

“I-I’d like that.”

“Yeah?”

Naruto grabbed the same hand Kiba had intertwined in his earlier, and claimed it as his, protectively interlacing his fingers in hers and squeezing her hand for good measure. 

It wasn’t like with Kiba at all, Hinata realized. Her heartbeat was out of time, her knees felt weak. Feeling Naruto under her touch was nearly too much for her to handle.

“Oh..um...” Naruto blushed as he met her gaze, “I really like your hair up, you know?”

“O-oh,” She smiled as she looked away, unable to look at him head on.

“It’s really cute.”

“T-thank you.”

He chuckled, “Yeah, of course. Um, why don’t we go get something sweet, yeah? We can talk at the tea shop?”

“Okay.”

The pair, hands still intertwined, walked toward the tea shop, a blush upon each of their faces.

Kiba, watching from outside Ichiraku, smiled to himself as he said to Akamaru, “See boy, it all went exactly as I said it would. Didn’t it? Next thing you know, we’ll be helping Hinata pick out a wedding dress.”

Akamaru rolled his eyes and continued eating from the offered bowl of ramen. It was better to let Kiba think he had won this round.

“Ah, first love,” Kiba sighed dreamily as he sat back down on his stool, “I can’t wait to see it all play out.”

#naruhina drabble #naruhina fanfiction #team 8 #hinata hyuga #naruto uzumaki #kiba inuzuka

[suzumenokakimono]

I was here first II

Pairing: Namjoon /  Jimin x reader

Genre: AU, smut, fluff, angst, roommates to lovers, fwb, friends to lover

Summary: Jimin was your roommate, best friend and in love with you so bad it wasn’t even funny. His friends knew this all along and were surely surprised you’ve never noticed. But you didn’t. You were oblivious as the Earth was round. Now, Jimin decided it was time to finally confess to you. He asked one of his closest friends, Namjoon, to help him. But what if you end up liking Namjoon instead of Jimin?

Word count: 7k

A/N: Thank you, N.

While I was writing this, I realized what’s ‘wrong’ with my writing style but then also it hit me: not gonna change it.

Also, there is stuff going on in my head, hence the plot. * flies away *

Namjoon though.

Tagged: (as requested 💜: @ jinnfires)

Masterlist | Chapters: One | Two | Three (incoming) 

-------

That was your favorite mug.

You remembered how you got it, actually. Jimin had broken your mug. The only mug you had brought with you when you’d moved in. It was really stupid, it was not even special to you. You just never bought anything more, never needed it to, to be honest. 

Before you started to live with Jimin, your previous roommate had had a lot of stuff and she’d always let you use it. It was really convenient and you gladly took advantage of that. When she moved out, you were left with just your stuff, which was not a lot. Jimin always said you could use anything you wanted from his kitchen but it was nice to have something of your own. So when he broke your only mug, he immediately bought you a new one. He was feeling very bad about that and kept sending you tons of links to internet shops, asking what you would like. To finally make him stop crying over the whole situation, you’d picked one and you used it ever since. After those two years in this apartment, you got yourself more things, that you could call yours, but this one stayed as your favourite.

And now it was broken. You were standing in the middle of the kitchen and looking at the shattered pieces on the floor, not sure how that had happened. No. That was a lie. You knew exactly how it had happened, you just weren’t sure… how. 

The morning started pretty ordinarily. It was a weekend so both you and Jimin didn’t have work and stayed at home. He was trying to convince you to go to the cinema or something, but looking at the weather you weren’t sure it was the best idea. You just wanted to stay inside. You decided to make yourself a nice tea and finally start reading that book you’d wanted to read for so long.

Jimin’s face leaned out from behind the door frame to check what was going on. He had heard the noise and wanted to make sure you were alright. He saw you standing in the kitchen and started to think he had misheard but then he noticed the mess on the floor. He didn’t have any issues with recognizing your mug. Or what was left of it. 

“Did you just…?”.

You hadn’t even noticed him. When he spoke you turned around, surprised by his presence.

“Huh… what?”

“Did you just break the mug from me?”

For some reason he was pretty amused by this. Knowing what happened with the previous one and seeing what you did with the one he got you, was a little ironic. 

“I can’t believe you broke THE MUG!”

He chuckled to himself but then he saw your face expression and just burst into laughter. You looked so surprised and out of place, for what the reason he assumed, was your accident with the mug. He started to help you clean up, since you were barefoot and could step into some smaller pieces and hurt yourself. 

“What happened?”

“Um… sorry. I… got distracted. Shame…”

You really were sorry about that. One of the reasons you liked the mug was how you’d actually gotten it. The story was simple but there was a story and that’s what counted. You can’t say that very often about your everyday life’s items. 

You helped Jimin with cleaning, making sure nothing stayed on the floor and took out one of his mugs from the cabinet. While doing so you were holding your phone in your other hand, looking intensely on its screen. 

“So, what about the movie?”

“... movie? What movie?”

“Are you still not going?”

“No…”, you looked at your phone again. “Something came up.”

-------

When Jimin opened the door, it was around 6am. It was already getting bright outside but all he was thinking about was to sleep for the next week. He was exhausted and kind of dehydrated. Not being entirely conscious he went to the kitchen and just turned on the tap to drink some water. He twisted his head to the side and leaned over the sink. Cold, clean water ran down his throat and felt a little more alive than a few seconds ago. He promised himself, not for the first time to be honest, not to drink that much next time. Let’s face it. He was not going to quit drinking entirely. He just wanted not to feel half dead each morning after a fun, long night. That was never fun. The only plus of those situations was you, you taking care of him when he was in a state where crawling on the floor seemed like the only possible way of moving. You always complained but never denied helping him. It also gave you many possibilities of making fun of him. 

He turned off the water and dried his face with a towel. He needed a shower but was too tired to care about that. Soft bed was calling for him. While passing by your room, he saw the door not entirely closed, so he quietly stepped closer to check up on you. You were sleeping in your bed, wrapped in your comforter like a burrito and snoring quietly. Your pretty dress was on a chair and shoes discarded separately on the floor. He saw your hair pointing out and this way he was sure you were okay. Namjoon did what he was asked to. He went to his room, feeling a little heavy, remembering again what had happened in the club and how his whole plan didn’t work out at all. He knew it was his fault that he backed out and just left you. But for him, the price was too big. What ifs were killing him this whole time and he decided he would not take this risk. He needed more time.

He closed your door behind him and went to his room. He had a lot of stuff to think about. Maybe a new plan to figure out. But not this morning. The only thing he needed and also wanted to do was sleep.

-------

It had been a week since you, Jimin and Namjoon went out. None of you mentioned the night very often, if at all. When you woke up the next day, you just wanted to die quietly without any distractions and minding silence in Jimin’s room, he was already dead. You both spent that time separately, doing your own stuff, doing everything that was necessary to survive. After that, you just got back to the normal life routine. You hadn’t found out what the meaning of that night was anyway, so you didn’t pay much attention to it.

No. That was a lie. You didn’t care much about the situation with Jimin. Sure, he’d acted weird and left you for some random girl in the club, but he was your friend and apparently he’d gotten back home safe. You did care, however, about the other guy. The one you met that night.

Namjoon didn’t give you any contact information, no phone number, no messenger options. When he’d left your room, he’d just disappeared and never tried to reach out to you. He’d left you with just a memory of him, him on top of you in your bed, groaning low in your ear. This image stayed in your head rent free and didn’t want to move out anytime soon. You didn’t remember everything. You lost a little track of the events after you both left the cab. But you were definitely sure you’d held his dick at some point. That was unmistakable. 

Having this vividly in your mind, you tried to find him. The best way and probably the only way, was through Jimin. You’d started by asking him how work was, hoping he would mention his friend at some point. But he didn’t. So’d you tried to nonchalantly talk about your night out but it somehow ended up even worse. He’d changed the subject immediately, without any reason and had been avoiding it since then. You didn’t understand that, but nevertheless, you understood you wouldn’t get any information this way. Sighing heavily, you dropped it for a moment. You really liked Namjoon and wanted to see him again, but apparently you had to wait for something to happen or him to find you, because the universe was telling you to wait. So you waited.

It was Friday evening. You were looking for a movie to watch and you wanted to watch it in the living room. Jimin was writing to you the whole day how one of his annoying co-workers had a birthday and was insisting on going out later to a bar. He was nagging how he didn’t want to, but had to and was asking you for some good excuses to go back home. You liked the idea of spending the evening alone in your apartment so you refused and laughed at his response, when he realized you enjoyed his suffering. Sitting wrapped in a blanket on your living room couch, you were ready for tonight's film show, knowing very well your roommate wouldn't be home anytime soon. 

-------

Jimin was sipping his beer without any enjoyment. He was forced to come to the bar and drink, and that took all the fun from being at the bar and drinking. He thought maybe pouring all possible alcohol straight down his throat would be a good solution to survive this ‘birthday party’ but then again he promised himself not to drink that much. At least, not as much as last time. Oh fuck, last time… Just thinking about it made him anxious and he immediately took a big sip. It’d been a week and he couldn’t get over it. He didn’t talk to anyone about that, he was embarrassed and so pissed at himself. He thought maybe hiding everything deep, deep inside him would just make it go away.

Namjoon sat next to him, pushing him to the side, forcing Jimin to make more space. He also got  invited for the party, but was a little merrier than his friend. He was drinking some dark beer and looking around the crowd. One of their female colleagues tried to talk to him, he was pretty sure she was flirting, but after a few moments he found an excuse and ran away. 

“She has nice legs.”, Jimin mumbled from his glass.

“Yeah, then go and talk to her. I’ll save your spot.”

“I don’t think she likes me. I think she likes you.”

“Bummer.”

“Why are you so defensive? You’re not madly in love with your friend, like me. Or are you?”

Of course Jimin had to mention you. He was drinking and was in a bad mood from the moment they’d entered the bar. This was the first time they actually talked with each other, since your night in the club. Jimin never got back to Namjoon, like he said he would. They were avoiding one another, for their own reasons, which they kept for themselves. Namjoon was seriously scared that everything that had happened between you two was perfectly noticed and his friendship with Jimin was ruined. He really didn’t want that but at the same time, he couldn't blame Jimin. So, when he’d come to the table to finally break the ice, he wasn’t sure what he was going to find. It had surprised him that Jimin didn’t seem to be angry.

“I’m not in love with you. You’re not my type. Too much penis.” Jimin snored at that excellent joke and got back to his drink. This was a good sign.

This past week hadn’t been easy. Avoiding his friend and distracting himself with anything that’s possible just to not think about you was pretty exhausting. He was actually happy someone had come up with the idea of going out to the bar. He needed to chill.

“I fucked this up, didn’t I?”, Jimin spoke out of the blue.

“No. Because you haven’t done anything.”, Namjoon said, without even thinking. 

Jimin looked at his friend with an unspoken question, not sure what he meant. Namjoon swallowed hard. The fuck he’d just said that and started the whole conversation? He didn’t mean to say that! How the hell was this supposed to help to not think about you? This was already not going well.

“You’ve never actually tried, you know… talked to her…”, he started to sweat. 

“Yes, exactly. I fucked this up, because I have no balls to try.”

“But… why?”

“I thought… maybe…”, he started to mumble. “I should first make her jealous, you know? By picking up someone else and she… would…”

“Make… her jealous? How the hell was she supposed to be jealous if she had no idea what was going on?”

“You know… She sees me with some hot chick, thinks, oh that could have been me…”

Namjoon smelled bullshit from a distance. Jimin was too smart to actually think this kind of shitty strategy would work. Plus, that had never been his plan for that night in the first place.. 

“Oh, cut the crap!”, Namjoon lost his patience and probably shouted too loud, Jimin looked at him, surprised. “What the hell really happened that night?”

Jimin stopped sipping his beer, trying to collect his thoughts. He was torned apart. He wanted to forget about everything and at the same time, needed to say everything that was eating him alive. 

“I panicked.”, Jimin’s sight was glued to the table.

“That… I would call an understatement, at least.

“Remember when we were talking and… we started to look back on the day we met… She mentioned how I was drunk and falling from my chair… She turned to you…”

Namjoon froze in place. This was it. Jimin was about to say how him, his friend, stole the girl of his dreams. There was no turning back. 

“She was talking about me like the biggest dork. She was laughing, not taking me seriously…”

Namjoon took a deep breath and wasn’t sure he understood. His mind was completely lost in connecting the dots. 

“She’s seeing me as her friend. I was trying to be with her that night, like with the other girls, you know? I was flirting and touching her, she didn’t care at all. We both were drinking and yet… it wasn’t enough. That’s why I ran away.”

Jimin got back to sipping his drink, not looking at Namjoon. And if he had, he would’ve seen an absolutely blank page. Namjoon felt like his brain got a reset and he was sitting with a blue screen displayed for everyone watching. He never doubted that what he did back in the club was wrong, however he was certain Jimin had seen it and was about to kill him. Not noticing how he had been drooling all over you was pretty impossible. And yet, here he was, safe and sound. He narrowed his eyes in that moment, finally connecting the dots. You both were pretty dumb and blind when it came to feelings and reading someone else’s emotions. 

“So… you got scared because she was laughing at something you did three years ago?”

“It sounds stupid, I know. But I felt really weird. Like, me doing that is all she can see. Like, that night defined me in her eyes. She sees me as a dork… nothing serious…”

“You’re not a dork.”, Namjoon sighed heavily. This conversation was pretty weird and was making him nervous. However, what made him slightly relaxed was that, one problem was already solved: Jimin was absolutely oblivious about that night.  

“I know I am. And she knows I am.”

“Maybe she likes dorks?”, why the fuck did he say that?!

“I actually don’t know what her type is.”

I’m her type.

“Did she date anyone, after moving in with you?”

“I’m not sure… I think there was a guy or two… nothing really serious.”

“You’ve never talked about this? Never gossiped about your lovelife?”

“We did, but she was always more curious about mine, since I did bring some girls a few times. She was always asking why a handsome guy like me doesn’t have a girlfriend”, Jimin smiled to himself after a word handsome. He liked when you called him that. 

“She thinks you’re handsome.”

“And she doesn’t like me.”

But she likes me. 

Namjoon mentally slapped himself for that. 

“What about the other girl?”, he desperately wanted to change the subject. 

Talking about you, in a perspective of you liking Jimin or not, was killing him. You were on his mind all the time anyway, since you’d met. And he had to hide that. He started to have problems with being a good friend and supporting Jimin with his crush and his efforts to win you over. 

“What girl?”

“The one you were making out when you left us. Y/A saw the two of you at the bar.”

“There’s not much to talk about.”, Jimin looked flustered. He turned his head away.

“Why? Did you go with her and something went wrong?”

“No… it’s….”

“Did she laugh at you? You couldn’t do it? You were too drunk? You fell asleep in the middle?”

“Are you having fun?”

“Yes, yes I am!”

Jimin looked at Namjoon, waiting for another assumption about his night. But none of them came, he stopped making stuff up after seeing his friend's expression.

“It’s nothing like that. I didn’t go with her.”, Jimin sighed.

“I’m a little confused now. You ditched Y/A for some random chick and then you just… came home?”

“No. I… “

“What? What the fuck happened?”

“I went to the internet caffe and played Overwatch.”

Namjoon snorted so much his beer came right through his nose. However, he admitted it was worth it. He would have never expected Jimin to say something like that. 

“I’m sorry, you did what?”

“Ugh… Yes, we made out a little but I wasn’t in the mood. I was thinking about Y/A the whole time and it… it just didn’t feel right.”

“You were thinking about Y/N while making out with another girl?”

“I forgot how big of a dipshit you can be, you know?”

You have no idea. 

-------

The doorbell woke you up from the deepest moment of your dream. When you lifted your head you weren’t sure where you were, what was going on or who you were. You needed a moment to recover and another ring to finally get up. Blindly you reached out to your nightstand and grabbed your phone.

2:05 am. Who the fuck was that?

You had gone to sleep some time ago, knowing Jimin had his own keys and he would help himself with opening the door. You were not expecting anyone, especially at this time, so while still being a little asleep you were very hesitant to open the door. You looked through the visor on the door but it was too dark to determine anything. But there was someone there, for sure.

Another ring made you jump in place. Someone was really stubborn and didn’t want to let this go. So, hoping nobody doing this kind of noise would try to kill you, you slowly turned the locks and looked at what was waiting for you in the corridor. 

First you saw Namjoon. He was standing right in front of the door, basically leaning into it. He barely looked at you because all his attention was on another person hanging on his shoulder. And that person was Jimin. 

You looked first at Namjoon, then at your roommate, then again at his friend. Many questions were growing inside your head, you were fully awake at this point. 

“What…?”

You tried to articulate one of them, but it died before it left your mouth. Was Jimin unconscious? You just pointed at him, which was worth a thousand words. 

“I’m sorry… I couldn’t find his keys. He said they’re in his pocket but… I’m not gonna…

He moved a step forward, trying to get to the apartment, without bumping into you. You shook your head, realizing you were blocking his way. You moved away to make the corridor clear but Namjoon didn’t go any further.

“Can you… help me?”

You immediately got to the other side of Jimin and put his arm on your shoulder. You felt his weight on you and a second after that you smelled all the alcohol he drank at the bar. He was indeed unconscious. His body felt like a ragdoll, it was really hard to get him into his room, but both of you somehow managed to. His feet were dragging along on the floor while you pulled him through the corridor. You threw him on his bed, which was a little too rough, but he didn’t react in any way. 

“I think this time he might be dead.”, Namjoon was standing next to you.

“Possibly.”

You sighed heavily. You knew what was coming so you jumped out to the bathroom and brought a big plastic bowl. You put it next to Jimin’s bed, just in case he woke up and decided he didn’t like all the alcohol he had in his body. And food. And his insides. You assumed him waking up would be a very dramatic moment. 

“That’s clever. I don’t think he’ll aim for that anyway, but at least we tried.”, Namjoon didn’t fool himself. If Jimin woke up, he would be half dead and puking into the bowl would be the last thing on his list.

You both left the room. You were trying to act quietly, even though there was no such force that could have woken up Jimin in this state. You closed the door behind you and looked at Namjoon. Before, you smelled alcohol because of your friend. He drank like there was no tomorrow, for sure. But Joon did not say no to drinks as well. He was not as drunk as your roommate but he was swaying in place, not able to focus his sight on you.

“Are you feeling ok?”

“I’m fine… I just need to lay down…”, he was a little embarrassed and wanted to go home and sleep.

“Do you want some tea?”, you asked, already being on your way to the kitchen. On your way you brushed your hand on his arm, trying to pretend that was an accident, didn’t mean much.

Namjoon didn’t say anything. He just watched you going, focusing on how you were swaying your hips,  followed you and after a few seconds.

“Tea sounds perfect.”

He was watching while you were jumping around and making him and yourself a tea. Yet again he saw you in a different light than before. When he stood still, holding the door frame for support, he focused on the way you looked. He remembered you in your pretty dress and makeup. Well, also without a dress. But this time you were just in your pajama shorts and a simple loose T-shirt. Your hair was tied up on top of your head and you were definitely not wearing any makeup. Even though his vision was not the best at that time, he decided you looked very pretty with a bare face. 

When the tea was ready, you grabbed both mugs by their handles and just took them to the living room, giving him an unspoken direction to do the same. Namjoon followed you again and you both sat on the couch. He felt much better sitting, it made him feel more sure he wouldn’t fall down. Or at least from his seat, there was a much shorter trip to the floor. 

“Party was that good?”, you asked. 

“Afterparty, maybe.”

“After-what? Why did you need that?” “It was Jimin’s idea. He… didn’t have much fun at the birthday party, so we went somewhere else just to… well, drink. We didn’t plan to stay long… and that part of the plan worked out.”

Namjoon seemed a little tired. He leaned his head on the back of the couch and closed his eyes. Was he falling asleep? You took that opportunity and looked at him. He wasn’t wearing his beanie this time. His natural dark hair was short and dyed to a blonde color, shaved at the bottom and slightly underneath into a nice undercut. It really suited him and you were fighting with the urge to brush your fingers through his hair. You imagined how it would feel under your fingertips. Probably very soft. His grey hoodie was a little loose on his body, you’d noticed he liked a little baggier clothes. He’d matched it with light jeans and red converse. 

Somehow, you missed him and wanted him to stay. Even just to talk with you. You were pinching yourself to start a conversation, any conversation, you didn’t want him to leave.

“You know, after that fun night in the club you disappeared… I haven’t heard from you… ”

Namjoon opened his eyes and looked at you. It definitely helped him wake up.

“I…”, he wasn’t sure what to say. 

He had been avoiding you. Not that you’d had many occasions to actually meet. But he was trying to forget about a pretty girl that he really liked but very well knew, his friend was in love with. He had to remind himself of that all the time. The whole evening with Jimin was not helping at all. Getting in touch with you, after all that had happened the night you met was a very bad idea.

“I didn’t want to bother you. We’ve barely met and I thought that… we’re not that close, so it doesn’t matter.”

“What does that mean?”

“We’re not friends… we don’t have to hang out… you know... “, he had no idea what he was talking about. 

“We’re not but you’re Jimin’s friend. You can’t run away from him.”

“I didn’t run away from you.”

“But you did avoid me?”

“Yes. NO!”, his brain was malfunctioning. He pulled himself up, grabbed his tea and took a sip. It burned his tongue a little but was a great distraction. 

“You don’t like me?”

“NO!”, he almost jumped in his place and spilled his tea on his legs. “What? Of course not! I do!”

You laughed at his reaction. 

“I like you too.”

You smiled at him, blushing a little. You took your mug from the coffee table to distract yourself from the embarrassment that was attacking you. He didn’t miss that. He was still a little buzzed but you talking to him was keeping him awake. He was watching you intensely, trying to remember how you’d looked that night. He put his mug away, to avoid spilling tea anywhere and leaned his head back on the couch sliding down a little in his seat. He wasn’t sure if he was getting sleepy again or whether your presence was affecting him this way. Whatever it was, a nice warm feeling spread through his body after your small confession. He smiled back at you, which made you even more flustered and you almost hid your face in your mug.

“Ah… you know… after all that happened, I was pretty sure you actually don’t want to see me.”

“But, why? Did I do something stupid? Did I… fall asleep while we were…?”

“No, we didn’t do anything! When I put you into bed you were already sleeping.”

“I actually wanted to ask, did I fall asleep while we were kissing.”, you giggled. You remembered Namjoon left before anything happened.

“Oh, then, my answer would be yes!”, he smiled with his cute smile, showing his dimples. A shy blush also showed up on his cheeks. 

“Huh, I think I drank a little too much.”

“That’s fine. It’s not like I was sober. I was there too.” 

“Yes… yes, you were.”, you looked into his eyes. “I was drunk, half naked and you rolled me into my comforter and left.”

Namjoon’s breath hitched for a second. Your straightforward statement made him remember how that had actually happened, that everything he had in his head really took place. 

You on the bed, him on top of you. He tried to get up, you held him. He was trying to leave, you took off your dress. Later he was trying to convince himself that it didn’t happen, he didn’t see you naked waist up, that his hard dick wasn’t… 

“... yeah, you took that dress off…”, he drifted off for a moment, looking in your direction, but not at you. Images were flashing right in front of his eyes.

Then he heard you laughing. 

“I did take my dress off”, you hid your face in your hands. Your expression changed in one second, again.

Namjoon snorted right after you. Talking about this was making him a little nervous. He felt his hands starting to sweat. You were sitting close to him, with your legs on the couch, one arm spread behind his head. Your shorts riled up your thighs showing even more skin. Loose T-shirt hanging on your shoulder, making your collarbone very much visible. 

You put your mug back to the table and moved closer to him. 

“We were both drunk, but I do remember most of it.”, you knew you were blushing, but didn’t want that to stop you.

“... I… maybe half of it.” he lied. He remembered everything.

“I can’t stop thinking about what if…”

He swallowed hard. He looked at your lips. Your hand behind his head found his hair and  played with it nonchalantly. He was pretending he didn’t notice. You scratched your neck with your other hand and glued his sight to your skin. He remembered everything.

“What if what?”

“What if we slept together? It’s not like we’re in relationships, so we wouldn't be doing anything wrong… right?”

“I don’t have a girlfriend…”, he shook his head a little to emphasize this. 

“Me neither. Or a boyfriend.”, you smiled.

You were getting closer and closer. He felt a hint of a fruit scent. Was that your shampoo? Your finger touched his neck. Very lightly, but a shiver went down his spine. Your touch was hot on his skin and he immediately started to want more.

Fuck.Fuck.Fuck.

You took your hand away, like you realised what you were doing and that was way too far and too fast. For a second you panicked, a train of thoughts was attacking you and you felt like you were the only one that was trying to do something there. Like you were the only one who felt the spark and wanted to use it. Like he didn’t want you anymore.

He raised his head a little, he looked straight into your eyes, his mouth was slightly open.

You were wrong. You were so fucking wrong.

You leaned into him and you kissed him without another word. He didn’t oppose at all. After all, if you hadn't, he would have done that himself. He cupped your face and pulled you closer. One of his hands wandered to your neck. He also felt yours on his, it went straight back to its place where it had been before. He tasted like beer and tea at the same time. You felt the alcohol in his breath but didn’t care much. You took his lower lip between yours and sucked. You felt him smiling, he liked that.

One of his hands grabbed your T-shirt and pulled you closer to him. It made you lose your balance and you put your hand on his chest for support. He didn’t stop though. He was trying to get you as close as possible. 

Without thinking much, you straddled his lap, putting one leg on each side of his hips. His hands were immediately on your bare thighs. Kneading the flesh he moved them up, right on your ass. Grabbing you shorts, he pulled them right up, putting both of your ass cheeks on display. Holding them, made you move closer and spread your legs wider. You sat right up above his crotch, feeling his hardening dick under your thigh. 

Grabbing his hoodie and by pulling it up you urged him to raise his hands, to take it off. He was wearing a simple white T-shirt beneath it. Tight enough to show his slim body and wide shoulders. He didn’t give you much time to appreciate it. Both of his hands were on your neck and pulled you back to him. He was kissing you like crazy, with his tongue exploring your mouth, not giving you any moment to take a breath. One of his hands slid down your shoulder and was going down, until he found the hem of your T-shirt. You felt his fingers on your stomach, shyly first. He was tasting the waters, making sure you were ok with that. Shortly after his whole hand was holding you around your ribcage with his both hands. Circling his thumbs under your breasts, he was slowly moving them up after he found your nipples. 

“I want to see them again.”, his voice was so low, you barely recognized it. 

You whispered a soft “OK” to him and he moved his hands up. T-shirt hooked on his wrist moved up with them. He put it through your head and hooked it on your neck. He didn’t have to do more. He got what he wanted. When he was undressing you, you lifted your hips up and he made you stay that way. Your breasts were right in front of his face and without hesitation he attached his lips to one of them. He licked your nipple, making his tongue flat he slid it up and down, making you moan. He looked up to you, wanting to see your facial expression, wanting to see how much you enjoyed that. He pinched your second nipple which made you whine even louder and his cock even harder. He remembered those sounds, now even more vivid to him, when he wasn’t that drunk. 

While still working your breast with his mouth, his hand moved down, across your thigh, slowly getting closer to your center. THe loose hem of the leg of your shorts gave him easy access to you. His fingers found your core, still covered with your cotton panties, circling it, trying to get inside. Moving them to the side he finally felt how wet you were. 

“Oh fuck… baby, is this all for me?”

You felt a heat rushing through your body. His words made you flustered for some reason, like saying it made it even more real and undeniable. You didn’t know what to say so you blindly shifted your hand to his crotch and found his cock. You started to palm him through his pants, which made him groan. You felt his hot breath and tongue on your skin. But it wasn’t enough. His fingers found your clit and started to slowly move up and down. You made a noise which gave him the perfect confirmation he was doing a good job. Without any further delay you unzipped him and shoved your hand into his pants. He was already hard and precum was gathering on his tip. He slowed his movements when he felt your hand on him, a little unsure what your next move was. You slid his pants and boxer shorts down and freed him. His hard dick slapped into his stomach and you immediately grabbed it and started to pump him. Your hand was sliding on his soft skin, smearing the precum all over him. He started to breathe loud and move his hand on you again. 

You were so wet, you felt it on your thighs. He was touching your clit, sometimes circling it, something sliding up down, left and right. One of his fingers slid inside of you, feeling no resistance. After that the second one joined him, making you stretch a little. You barely felt it. When he started to move them in and out of you, your hips joined them, copying his pace. You didn’t forget about this cock in your hand. He bucked up into your fist when you sped up. He wasn’t able to focus on your nipples anymore. His face landed between your breast, his hot breath made a drop of sweat gather right there. He was whispering sweet nothings to you, you didn’t even understand them. 

You were already chasing your orgasm. The very well known feeling started to build in your stomach and you were desperate to feel it. His fingers were doing wonders on you, circling your clit in a steady pace. You moved your hips closer but his other hand grabbed your hip and held you. You leaned towards him, hid your face in his neck, kissing and sucking the skin. You were focusing on the pleasure he was giving you but still wanted to return the favour. You speed up the pace of your own hand, squeezing his dick hard and making him moan right into your ear. He was getting close like you. You focused on the tip, circling with your thumb on his slit, wanting to make him cum. He was starting to breath faster and louder, squeezing your hip, digging his fingers into your flesh.

Then you heard it. A loud noise, which snapped you from your bliss and made your high disappear in a blink of an eye. He’d heard it too. His hand between your legs froze, but still stayed in place. 

“Was that… from Jimin’s room?”, you asked, completely confused. 

Sweat on Namjoon’s face ran down his cheek and ended up on this neck. He was as confused as you were. He’d heard it too and had no idea what that was.

“I-I need to check that.”

When you moved to leave his lap, he whined and grabbed your hand. He didn’t want to stop, he was so close. His own hand was still in your panties, fingers wet with your arousal ready to get back to work and get you off. You were so tempted to go for it, ignore the noise and forget about everything. But you heard it again. This time you were certain it was from Jimin’s room. He probably woke up. 

You had no other choice but to leave Namjoon’s hard dick alone and stand up. He didn’t like that idea but he finally let you go. His hand left your center and went straight to his mouth. He put his fingers inside and sucked them clean, while looking into your eyes the whole time. This time you whined loudly and cursed Jimin for this.

When you were on your legs again, you put your T-shirt down and went to your roommate’s room. Before you opened the door, you felt Namjoon behind you, his hand landed on your shoulders. You both got inside and discovered Jimin was nowhere to be found. His bed was empty, 

“... da fuck…”

And for some reason, Jimin’s pants were on the floor. You had no memory of undressing him, or Namjoon doing that. Did he wake up and take them off? What for? And how? You both were shocked, until you went around the bed and found him on the floor. He was laying on his stomach, with one hand twisted in a very uncomfortable angle, wearing his T-shirt and boxer shorts. The plastic bowl you left for him was pushed away, but still empty. 

You kneeled next to him, checking if he was okay. He was still breathing, but he left unconscious. Namjoon came to you and helped you to put him on his bed again. You rolled him on his back and covered him with a comforter. He was safe again, although you were really puzzled about what had just happened. You were pretty sure Jimin would not remember this, he was way too drunk, so there was no chance you’d find out anyway. You sighed, put the bowl back to its place and left the room, with Namjoon following you. 

When both of you were outside, you quietly closed the door yet again. You felt Namjoon’s hand on you, how he grabbed you by your shoulder and turned you around to him. Your back hit the wall and his body was pressed into yours immediately, pushing air from your lunges. He grabbed your breast and squeezed it, pushing you even harder into the wall. His kiss was long and passionate but when he detached his lips he just stayed like that, looking at you through his lashes.

‘Why the hell do you have to be such a good kisser?”, he whispered into your lips. 

You felt his boner on your stomach and reached out to touch him again. But he moved away. He kissed you one last time and took a step back. Still looking at you, took a deep breath and turned to the living room. Your mind was still hazy with the intense make out, so you didn’t follow him on the spot. But when you did, he wasn’t sitting on the couch but standing in front of the coffee table. He took his tea and started to drink. In one take, he finished it and put the empty mug back. After that he took his hoodie, walked past you, opened the door and left.

It was the second time he was leaving you like this. 

------

“What came up?”, Jimin put a bag of tea in your mug and poured boiling water. You both smelled the scent of green tea. “I thought you’re free today.“

“I am. I-I just don’t want to leave the house tonight.”

“It’s barely noon. You can still change your mind.”

“Yeah, yeah…”

You started to rummage through another cabinet, looking for some cookies. But you couldn’t stop looking at your phone’s screen. Jimin was watching you and noticed how much you were distracted. No wonder you'd broken THE MUG.

“Why are you staring at your phone like that?”

Automatically you did it again. Unread messages’ thumbnails looked at you, asking why you hesitate to read their whole content. 

With a loud crash you closed the cabinet, took your phone and headed to your room.

“I’m going to my room. I need to take care of this.”

Without any more explanation, you took your tea, left the kitchen and locked yourself in your room. When left alone, you took a deep breath and finally unlocked your phone. 

Messages on your phone manifested in front of you and at the point you were certain you read them correctly at the first time.

Unknown [12:36]: You know, I’ve been thinking… We should drink some tea together again

Unknown [12:36]: I’d love to see what next is gonna happen with us in one room

Unknown [12:40]: It’s Namjoon btw

雀

#bts #bts smut #bts x reader #bts imagine #bangtan #bangtan smut #bangtan x reader #bangtan imagine #namjoon #kim namjoon #namjoon smut #namjoon x reader #namjoon imagine #jimin #jimin smut #jimin x reader #jimin imagine

[a-place-to-come-back-to]

The telephone

(an attempt at writing something lighter for a change. accidently wrote the whole thing in one afternoon so do let me know if you catch any mistakes)

“Mr. Toad sends you both a gift,” the rabbit butler announced with an air of importance after Mole opened the door for him. He was holding a box in his paws that Mole was almost suspicious of. “Oh! Well, that’s nice of him, I suppose,” Mole replied. He reached out for the box but stumbled to the side as the rabbit pushed into the house. “My instructions were to install this immediately,” he informed as he set the box down and began to open it. “Install?” Mole questioned, closing the door uncertainly, “I... Ratty will be back soon, maybe you ought to wait a bit,” he tried. The rabbit unpacked the box swiftly. “Mr. Toad said it was ideal if Mr. Rat was not at home,” he said politely, pulling a telephone out of the box.

“Is that—oh, dear,” Mole murmured, and sent a glance out the window. He knew his friend would be back from his morning row soon, but he was at a loss of what to do, and wished that he would hurry.

“Can I get you anything?” he asked the rabbit hesitantly. The other animal shook his head and Mole nodded awkwardly, shifting his weight from one foot to another before eventually deciding to sit down. After a few minutes he heard the familiar scrape of the boat outside and he breathed a sigh of relief. “You should’ve come along today, the way the sun bounced off the water was—what on earth?” Ratty cut himself off as he entered the room and saw the rabbit and the box. “It’s a gift from Toad,” Mole informed him, “I think it’s a telephone. I’m not sure what to do about it.” Ratty blinked a few times. “What? No—no!” He wrestled with the butler for a moment before shoving him away from the wall. The rabbit insisted that Mr. Toad had been quite clear in his instructions to deliver the phone. Ratty told him just where he could deliver it. “Ratty!” Mole scolded, trying to not be impressed at his friend’s extensive vocabulary. Ratty at least had the presence of mind to look slightly guilty, but Mole doubted he regretted what he had said. “Shall I deliver that message to Mr. Toad, sir?” the poor rabbit asked uncertainly as Ratty shoved the telephone back into the box and at the other animal. “No!” Mole exclaimed, at the same time that Ratty declared, “yes!” “Ratty!” Mole scolded again. If he had ever been caught using such language, his mothers would wash his mouth with soap, and he could only imagine the trouble he would be in were he to give someone a message like that. How Ratty had such guts to do such a thing would have been admirable in any other situation. “Yes, by all means, deliver him that message,” Ratty snapped, shoving the confused and slightly frightened rabbit out the door, “he’s had it a long time coming at any rate, so he might as well hear it sooner rather than later. Have a nice day!” The way he yelled the last part as he slammed the door did not make it seem as though he actually wanted the rabbit to have a nice day at all, but rather wished him the opposite, and was unable to say such things due to the unspoken rules of curtesy. Mole had no idea why he would even make an attempt at being polite after what he had just heard come out of his friend’s mouth—he didn’t recognize a good portion of the words, but it had been a healthy mix of Undergrounder swears mixed with what he assumed were Riverbanker and maybe even Wild Wooder swears. He fought back a smile as he wondered if Toad would even understand half of them, and instead leveled his friend with a disappointed and scolding look as the rat sat down in his chair with a huff. “He had it coming, you have to admit it,” Ratty said, trying to defend himself. Mole said nothing, but kept his gaze steady. Ratty huffed again and opened the newspaper with more force than necessary, trying to hide himself from that look, but Mole persisted. Ratty all but squirmed in his seat as the gaze seemed to bore through the paper, and after a few minutes he threw the newspaper down with a sigh. “I’m sorry, alright? Is that what you want me to say?” he asked, an almost desperate tone climbing in his voice. Mole tilted his head to the side in mock-consideration, unable to resist messing with his friend just a bit more, but quickly dropped the charade when he saw Ratty’s leg begin to bounce anxiously. “Thank you,” he said simply, and picked up his book. Ratty rolled his eyes and returned to the paper. Mole waited a beat or two before adding, “I think you ought to apologize to Toad as well.” “What?” Ratty sputtered, “no way in—I’ll think about it, I suppose,” he muttered sullenly as Mole looked back up from his book. Mole wasn’t able to hide his smile this time, and Ratty groaned, a smile appearing on his own face against his will. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” he accused, throwing the newspaper at him. Mole caught it with a laugh. “Well you can’t blame me, can you?” he said as he leaned over to deliver the paper back, “but I really do think you should apologize to Toad.” “I think he deserves it,” Ratty protested, “he sends his staff into my house to try and tear up the wall to put that thing in, and all it will do is ring day in and day out.  Just because I’d have a phone doesn’t mean everyone else who has a phone would need to call it, but that’s exactly what would happen. Besides, anyone I want to talk to is within reasonable walking distance, and I haven’t got any relatives elsewhere that would want to call.” The matter seemed settled at that, and they each returned to their reading. “I do wonder if phones can be installed underground,” Mole wondered aloud after a moment. Ratty glanced up from the paper and pondered the question. “I don’t see why not. Why do you ask?” There was a bit more than a twinge of anxiety in his voice. “I was just thinking it might be nice to put one in my mothers’ house,” Mole said quickly, eager to banish any worries his friend might have about him leaving, “I think they might think it nice if they could call me once in a while. They aren’t much for leaving their hole. I suppose I should visit them soon, I’m not sure they know that I moved in with you, and it’s been a few weeks now. I suppose I ought to let them know,” he mused. Ratty let out a short laugh. “Moley, it’s been just over six months,” he informed. Mole blinked at him a few times as he grappled with the information. “Just... just over six months?” he asked in bewilderment, part of him hoping that he had misheard. Ratty nodded, laughing again at the perplexed look on his friend’s face. Mole stared across the room blankly. “Ratty,” he said after a moment. “Yes, Mole?” “I think I am about to be grounded for a very, very long time.”

#kat writes #fics #the wind in the willows #the wind in the willows musical #am i the most eloquent writer #no #does it make me happy #yes #anyway i dont usually write fluffier fics so i hope this turned out right #according to my screen time i was in my notes app for only an hour and 20 min today and that was writing this #so thats why its choppy in places #anyway enjoy

[fanfic-me-up]

One For The Books || Midoriya Izuku

Synopsis: Kissing you in the middle of a bookstore was worth being late to his own party.

Pairing: Midoriya Izuku x fem!reader

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: None

A/N: This is for @bnhabookclub Celebrating Deku event and bingo event! Prompt: “Kiss me, quick. I promise I’ll explain later.” Bingo Slot: Bookshop AU Thank you @hawks-senseis​ @todoscript​ for beta reading! Tagging: @pixxiesdust​

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

Izuku stumbled into the bookstore by happenstance. 

The breeze was particularly strong that day, coming in from the east, and Izuku is naturally attracted to the scent of wilted parchment. The voices of the great authors from before entice him to take a peek into the homely shop. The size and location suggests it’s a family owned business, a hidden gem amongst a sea of overly flashy boutiques. It is the definition of grassroots and Izuku loves patronizing these types of down to earth businesses.

Izuku’s been an avid reader his whole life. He believes everybody has a story to tell and every story is worth being read.

The bell jingles upon opening the door and the place, though small in size, reminds Izuku of a never ending abyss filled to the brim with an infinite amount of stories. He can't wait to dig his fingers into the pages of each and every one of them. He already feels a sense of home with the purposefully decorative clutter - wooden knick-knacks and potted plants mixed with soft acoustic music playing in the background gives the place charm. 

He greets the clerk who smiles politely, greeting him by his hero name. Izuku doesn’t know if he’ll ever get used to being treated as a hero. The fame and fortune never appealed to him, preferring a simple life where he’s free to be himself without the weight of expectation. He feels bad for thinking this, and hasn’t told anyone because he doesn’t want to appear ungrateful. Please don’t misunderstand, he loves being a hero and saving those in need, but sometimes he needs to get away. 

Izuku peruses the numerous aisles, his finger grazing the spines of books waiting to be opened, when he freezes right smack in the middle of the aisle. You’re tucked in the corner with a book in hand, he can’t make out the title no matter how hard he squints. Izuku feels a bit creepy staring at you from the thin opening of the bookshelf, and you must’ve felt someone staring at you because you look up and meet his eyes causing him to whip his head. A flush creeps along the apples of his cheeks from being caught by you. Despite his embarrassment, Izuku chances a glance back up and he breathes a sigh of relief when your eyes have returned to your book. He doesn’t miss the fond smile gracing your lips now.

And that’s how a bookstore that’s two cities away became Izuku’s home away from home.

He tries to convince himself that he’s only going for the books, but he’s such a terrible liar that he can’t even lie to himself. It sounds ridiculous when he’s been on the train already for an hour, alone, on his birthday. He managed to escape for a few hours, finding time to catch a glimpse of you in between birthday traditions with his mother and hanging out with friends later tonight. 

His heart skips at the thought of seeing you tucked in the same corner, a book in one hand and your usual coffee in the other. You dog-ear the pages instead of using a bookmark, and you gasp when you find a quote worth remembering. You dare not take your eyes off the page, like you’re afraid you’ll never feel the same magic you felt when you first read the passage. Izuku always smiles when he sees you have trouble finding your highlighter, feeling your way around the table even though it’s in the same position you always leave it.

He’s talked to you a couple times, if you could call it talking, it’s more like you ask him a simple yes or no question and Izuku proceeds to blubber like an idiot for the next five minutes; your face adorned with a small smile as you wait for him to string words together that make sense. He appreciates your patience. It’s rare to find that kind of patience anymore.

He also appreciates how you don’t openly acknowledge his hero status. Seems like everyone wants something from him nowadays. It’s hard to make friends outside of the hero industry. A part of him wishes to return to the quiet stability, back when he was just Izuku. Maybe that’s why he finds himself constantly coming back to this bookstore, because this is the one place he feels like nobody's watching him and you’re the one person who makes Izuku feel like he doesn’t need to be anything more than himself.

His stomach drops when he takes in the vacant corner. He hoped to catch you today before his party, perhaps he would’ve finally gathered the courage to actually talk to you. This wasn’t how he pictured today would go, but he figures he traveled all this way so he picks up a couple books anyway (a couple to Izuku means a pile that looks ready to tip over) and plops down in his usual spot across from you. 

He barely gets through the first paragraph when the bell jingles, signaling a new customer, and you rush in breathless. The few people roaming the aisles turn their heads, including Izuku, and you look picturesque standing in front of the wide-open door, your hair swaying in the wind. Your eyes scan the bookstore, stopping at Izuku, and you walk briskly towards him. Wait, no, that can’t be right, but Izuku feels dumb glancing behind his shoulder because he’s sitting against a wall.

Izuku feels the breath rush out of him in one swoop.

“Kiss me, quick. I promise I’ll explain later!” 

Izuku chokes. 

“Huh? I- I’m sor-sorry- di-did you- you just- kiss- uhm, I’m sorry, what?” 

Izuku misheard that, right? There’s no way… Yeah, he had to have misheard that. His mind tricking him into what he wants to hear. Strangers don’t normally ask other strangers to kiss. Unless it was New Year’s, but it’s the middle of July, so that can’t be right.

You bite your lip, and it’s the first sign of hesitancy you show since making your grand entrance.

“It’s stupid, I’m sorry, you’re right, it’s not New Year’s-”

You heard that?

Sweat prickles the back of his neck at being caught so openly. He’s always had a habit of thinking out loud, and it manages to happen at the worst times.

“I’m just gonna go now, oh god, I’m so embarrassed, pretend you never-”

Izuku never gets to listen to the end because he jumps from his seat and pulls you in. You gasp, the same way you do when you come across a melodic phrase on a page, when his lips touch yours. You’re frozen in place, eyes wide, like you didn’t expect the kiss despite being the one to ask. Izuku has only kissed a few girls, enough to count on one hand, but he gives it everything he’s got. 

He traces your bottom lip, asking for permission like the gentleman his mother raised him to be, and he barely holds back a smile when you gain your bearings and shyly open up for him. He can tell from the way you kiss that you don’t normally ask random guys to kiss you in bookstores, and Izuku’s relieved at not being the only one feeling a little awkward about this whole situation.

Izuku explores the inside of your mouth, shyly meeting your tongue, and he feels you wrap your arms around his neck, playing with the small curls at the nape of his neck. Izuku doesn’t know how long the kiss lasts for, but long enough to feel like he might pass out if he doesn’t take a breath. He doesn’t completely pull away though - he makes it halfway, only to take a small gasp of air, before he goes back in to peck you one more time, trying to remember how your lips taste in case this is the first and last time he kisses you. 

What is he saying? Of course this is going to be the last time he kisses you. You’re a stranger- a beautiful stranger- but a stranger no less. He doesn’t even know your name! He probably should’ve asked for your name before he stuck his tongue in your mouth. Maybe he’s not much of a gentleman after all.

You open your eyes slowly, still hazy from the kiss. Your fingers are still entangled in his hair, and Izuku doesn’t want to let go of you, but you’re both coming down from the high of kissing one another. You detangle yourselves, stepping back an appropriate distance. There’s a fair amount of quick glances and awkward silence before you both speak up at the same time.

“I don’t normally-” you say.

“S-sorry if that wasn’t-” Izuku says.

Both of you stop at the same time too, laughing off the awkwardness. Izuku rocks on the balls of his feet, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. You glance around, unable to stay in place, until you set your sights on the towering books in Izuku’s corner. Your eyes sparkle as you bounce over to pick up the current book he’s reading.

“I love The War Within!”

“Y-you do?”

The War Within is one of Izuku’s favorite books. His mother would read it to him all the time as a child. 

“Of course! My childhood is in these pages,” you say as if you can read Izuku’s mind.

You flip through, careful not to lose where Izuku left off even though he’s still on the first page. 

“This story seriously doesn’t get enough love,” you comment after giggling at a passage from the book.

Izuku couldn’t agree more, and the flutter of excitement swirls through him. He finally found someone he can discuss his favorite book with. Although a fantastic book, it’s terribly underrated and anyone he’s mentioned it to looks at him like he has two heads when he gets carried away talking about it, but not you.

“I couldn’t agree more! The struggle between following your head and following your heart is timeless and the author writes it in such a wonderful way, accessible to a younger audience. Everyone comes to that crossroad between choosing to do what is socially expected and going after what you personally want. I can’t believe more people haven’t read this book and-” 

Izuku abruptly shuts up, biting his tongue when he realizes he’s rambling yet again to someone about his favorite book. He’s always been a smart kid, but it wasn’t until later in life when he fully grasped the depth of the message. He’s never related more to the protagonist than right now.

You’re not looking at him strangely like everyone else. Instead, your face is adorned with that same soft smile Izuku saw the first time he laid eyes on you.

“What’s the famous quote at the end again?” You skip to the end, eyes scanning for the passage Izuku already knows by heart. He answers your question in earnest at the same time you find the passage. You speak together for the second time today, words flowing in unison.

“To win a war within one’s self is the greatest victory of all.”

You lock eyes at the end. Izuku feels electric, adrenaline coursing through his veins, the same feeling as when he uses One for All. How did he get so lucky to bump into you that fateful day? The chances of Izuku choosing to get off the train when he did and stepping foot into the bookstore was slim to none, and for you to be here when he did…

What he would give to kiss you one more time.

The conversation dies, both of you too caught up in one another to say a word. All is left is the occasional murmur from other patrons and the soft music playing in the background. Izuku opens his mouth as do you, like you’re riding the same wavelength.

“I never got your-”

“Happy birthday!” You blurt, effectively cutting Izuku off.

He’s taken aback. He didn’t expect you to know today was his birthday. You never showed any sign that you knew of him, let alone take the time to look up his birthday. 

Oh god. What else did you find about him? The internet is scary and there are plenty of not so pleasant articles about him from media outlets looking to cause a stir. 

“Oh- ahem- I, um, heh…” He awkwardly trails off, a simple “thanks” unreachable to Izuku’s poor stuttering heart beating in double time.

He sincerely hopes only good things came up when you searched his name. 

“Thank you,” he says, bowing his head slightly to hide the flush on his face. 

Neither of you have a chance to continue the conversation when Izuku’s phone pings and he receives a text message from Uraraka that he better not be late to his own party again. Izuku glances at the time, eyes widening; he has to leave in the next five minutes if he wants to make the train home.

“I have to go.” 

You glance down like you’re unsure of yourself, until you take a deep breath and face Izuku head on with fierce determination; the same look of a hero about to make a life or death choice.

“I wanted to kiss you.”

Izuku steps back. Not with distaste, but with admiration for your honesty. 

“There’s really nothing else to it. I like you, and you probably get that a lot, and I know it’s crazy to say that when this is the first time we’ve had an actual conversation, but.. I thought I’d take my shot because, well, why not?” 

You chance a glance up at Izuku who’s staring at you in awe. You shuffle under his intense stare, like you don’t know what to make of his silence after your confession.

Izuku will admit that even he didn’t think he’d have the courage to confess his attraction to a complete stranger; yet here you were in the middle of a public bookstore, putting yourself out there, and opening yourself up to the possibility of rejection.

Or opening yourself up to the chance of a lifetime.

Izuku’s terrified of the strong woman in front of him - and not because he feels his masculinity threatened, but because he knows you’ll push him out of his comfort zone in ways he needs most.

“What’s your name?”

Your eyes flash like you didn’t expect that in the least, but you give him your name like he asks. 

“Do you wanna grab coffee sometime, Y/N?”

“Like a date?” 

Izuku nods and your eyes widen before shyly replying, “I’d love to.”

He laughs awkwardly, feeling like he missed a step. Don’t people usually start out as friends, go on a couple dates, and then kiss? This happened out of order, and not the way Izuku ever expected an exchange with you would go, but for some reason it feels right.

Izuku counts it as a win when he saves your number and can finally attach your name. He has one more question before he takes off though.

“What if I didn’t want to kiss you? What would you have done then?”

You bite your lip in thought, looking around at the endless tales waiting to be read, before smiling at Izuku.

“It’d be a great story either way. One for the books.”

Izuku finds the way you giggle at your own puns absolutely adorable.

He bids you goodbye with an awkward handshake turned hug- he went for a handshake while you went for a hug. Izuku makes it to the door, ready to leave, but for some reason he stops. His body takes over, shutting off his mind screaming what a terrible idea this is, before turning back around. This time, he’s the one to walk towards you with purpose, with intent to open himself up like you did. You inspired him to risk it all for a single moment, and even though it may be the worst decision he makes.

There’s a chance it will be the best decision of his life.

Your small gasp is music to Izuku’s ears, a song he wants on repeat for the rest of his life, as he pulls you in once more. The moment your lips touch, Izuku can’t help the small sigh to escape him, because the risk is totally worth any rejection that may follow. You wrap your arms around his neck, like your body was made to fit perfectly in his, and you run your fingers through his curls. The kiss is rushed, but not sloppy, like you can’t get enough of each other because you both have no idea what tomorrow brings. It’s over too soon for Izuku’s liking, but he enjoys how a single kiss was able to leave you breathless. A tinge of heat graces your cheeks and your kiss-bitten lips are proof that Izuku didn’t make this up in his head.

“S-so coffee next week?” Izuku steps back, running a nervous hand through his hair.

You smile with that same sparkle glittering your eyes.

“Sounds great. Happy birthday, Izuku.”

Izuku’s breath catches at the sound of his first name caressing your tongue. He bids you goodbye for good this time before taking his leave. The clerk winks at Izuku who flushes, ducking his head down, but the beginnings of a fond smile grace his own lips. 

Kissing you was definitely worth being late to his own party.

#midoriya x reader #midoriya izuku #midoriya izuku x reader #bnha x reader #midoriya fluff #mha x reader #izuku midoriya x reader #bnha #mha #bnha imagines #bnha fluff #midoriya imagine

[deep-space-elf]

Cullen x Reader - Misheard

Summary:  Y/N wants to finally confess her feeling to Cullen, but when she arrives at his tower, she overhears something that makes her question his feelings for her.

Word count: 3326

Warnings: None really, expect maybe that it’s a little angsty 

A/N: You can also find this fic on AO3

Y/N felt a little silly, but she just wanted it to be perfect. She looked into the mirror for the 5th time in the last 10 minutes. The dress, a gift from Josi, really looked lovely on her, but would Cullen like it? Not so long ago, she always rolled her eyes at girls who would behave like her just then. Looking perfect for a man… But tonight wasn’t just any night. She was determined to confess her feeling for her commander, and it wouldn’t hurt to look lovely for that occasion, right?

She looked into the mirror once again, and shook her head. She was pretty sure that Cullen felt the same, and he has seen her at her worst, right after a whole mountain dropped on her, half frozen to death. Stop being silly and just go! No more excuses! She took one last breath and made her way to Cullen’s tower.

As she walked through the atrium under the library, Solas looked up from his book and raised one of his thin eyebrow when he saw her. A small smile played around his lips. “Good evening, Inquisitor.”

“Evening, Solas,” she said curtly and walked past him. Just before the door closed behind her, she heard Dorian asking Solas a question, that sounded strangely like “Is it finally happening?” and “It looks like it”. She was so not looking forward to the teasing, that she knew would be happening. But Cullen was totally worth it.

When she reached the tower, she hesitated. Her hand was already raised, ready to knock, but of course, her mind choose that moment to question her intend. What if he didn’t feel the same? Maybe he was simply nice and not romantically interested in her. She would make a fool of herself, and would never be able to look into his eyes ever again! That certainly would make war room meetings awkward.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a strange noise from the inside. She froze and waited. There it was again, but she couldn’t tell what it was. She looked around, to see if anyone was watching her, but luckily, the few people who were still wandering in the courtyard, were busy walking towards the tavern. She leaned her ear against the door, and waited.

There it was. A soft moan from Cullen. A cold shudder run through her body and her heart clenched almost painfully. She swallowed a lump in her throat.

Of course he could sleep with whomever and whenever he wanted, they weren’t anything but friends at the moment, but the fact that it happened on the night she wanted to finally confess her feeling, felt like a slap in her face. She couldn’t help but wonder why he choose to sleep with someone else, when he knew that she she was interested. Or at least she thought he knew. Maybe she was right before, and he simply wasn’t interested romantically in her. Tears of hurt and frustration blurred her vision.

She rushed back to her tower the same way she came.

“Inquisitor?” Solas asked, surprise and worry carrying in his voice.

She ignored him, threw the door open, and let it crash back in the lock behind her.

“What happened?” Dorian asked the elven mage.

“I’m not sure,” Solas said. “But she was clearly upset.”

Dorian huffed. “I’m going to kill him.”

Solas might not much like the Tevinter, but he would be lying if he said he wasn’t impressed by his loyalty to their leader. Especially after such a short amount of time. “I think that would only upset her further.”

--- 

She barely slept that night. Her thoughts kept repeating what she had witnessed tonight and how to handle the situation from there. She was hurt, though she knew she had no right to feel that way. Even if Cullen felt the same, they weren’t in a relationship, and he had every right to see whomever he liked. It just irked her, that he was giving her so much hope, but then slept with someone else.

Almost every exchange they had, in the last couple of weeks, were heavily streaked with flirting. A suggestive sentence here, a little shy smile there, and oops was that an “accidental” touch? There was tension between them, so obvious, even Dorian noted it while watching from the small window in the alcove he claimed in the library. Needless to say he teased her all the time about it, and constantly asked about updates about they liaison.

She had told him a hundred times that there was nothing going on, but Dorian kept on pushing. He knew she had feelings for their commander, and he insisted that Cullen felt the same. “You should see how he looks at you! I can see those heart-eyes all across the courtyard,” he would say. And she believed him. Dorian had a little mischievous streak in him, but he would never mislead her with matters of the heart.

But now she couldn’t help but wonder, if maybe Cullen was nothing more but fascinated with her, because she was the Herold, their Inquisitor, and not because he was interested in her as a person. Maybe she misread all their flirtation, and it wasn’t the way she saw things. After all, Cullen wasn’t very skilled with words, and sometimes, he said things without thinking, and correct himself - almost too late - what he had just said.

Or maybe, or maybe, or maybe… ugh. She rolled on her stomach and covered her head with a pillow. I hate being in love.

---

The war room meeting went as awkward as one can imagine. Y/N couldn’t bring herself to look at Cullen, even when he was directly talking to her. That resulted in several curious and questioning stares from her advisers, or confused and hurt ones in Cullen’s case. She knew she was handling the situation badly, even a tad bit childish, but she couldn’t bring herself to look at him.

“I think that’s everything for today,” Josephine said cautiously. Actually, there were still several things she wanted to discuss with the Inquisitor, but the woman was obviously not in the… what? Condition? Mood? Whatever it was, she assumed it was better to end it here, and discuss everything else, once their leader doesn’t look like she’s about to kneel over any second.

Y/N nodded. “Good.” And with that, she turned on her heels and basically fled from the room.

“Inquisitor,” Cullen called after her, “if you have a moment…”

“Sorry,” she answered, without turning around, “maybe later, but I’m rather busy.”

Cullen turned to the two other advisers, baffled by the Inquisitor’s behaviour today. “With what?”

Josephine only shrugged. Leliana’s eyes followed Y/N until she was out of sight, before she turned towards Cullen. “There is obviously something bothering her. Give her some time.” She didn’t however said that she assumed it had something to do with the commander. She noticed how uncomfortable Y/N became as soon as Cullen entered the room. Interesting.

Cullen shook his head. Sometimes it felt like every woman he knew, was ought to make his life even more complicated than it already was. He wondered if there was something he has done, that made her act so strangely.

He thought about the last time they spoke, yesterday morning, and couldn’t come up with anything that might have upset her. On the contrary, she even suggested they should have dinner together sometime, so Cullen could introduce her to all his favourite Fereldan meals. His heart had skipped a beat at the suggestion. His heart sank however when re realised that maybe she was regretting making such a bold proposal.

He had to get to the bottom of this. If anyone knew what was going on with her, it was Dorian.

---

Cullen found the Tevinter mage in the library, where he seemed to spend most of his time. He approached him, while the mage was looking for a certain book in one of the shelves. “Dorian? May I have a moment of your time?”

Dorian turned his head in his direction, and Cullen almost made a step backwards when he saw the hatred in the other men's eyes. Was everyone bugged by his presents today?

“Depends on what you want,” Dorian said, the usual playfulness in his voice was absent.

“I-I wanted to talk about Y/N,” Cullen said, scratching his neck.

The Tevinter turned fully to him, with his eyes narrowed. “What a coincidence! I wanted to talk about her with you as well,” he said mockingly. “Solas stopped me however. He thought it would upset Y/N only further.”

Cullen peaked up at that. So he was right, Dorian knew what was going on. “So she is upset. Do you know what caused it?”

Apparently that was the wrong thing to say, because Dorian’s eyes narrowed dangerously now. “No, I’m not sure what caused it, but I have a pretty good idea who.”

“Who? Well, who was it?” Cullen asked. When someone upset her, he wanted to know, and maybe have a few words with them.

“Obviously, you!”, the mage almost shouted, which earned him a couple of “shhh” which he ignored.

“Me? But what have I done?” Cullen asked. He really had no idea.

Dorian crossed his arms over his chest. “I would like to know that as well. All I know is, she went to your tower last evening, and when she returned, she was crying.”

“Last evening? My tower?” Now Cullen was completely lost. She didn’t visit him yesterday, did she? All he remembered was going to bed, after another stressful day, which resulted in a terrible headache. “She didn’t visit me yesterday.”

Dorian crocked his head to the side. What was Cullen playing at? Whatever excuse the ex-templar tried, he wouldn’t get out of this that easily. “Yes, yes she was. All nicely dressed. Must be around nine.”

“I was already asleep at nine,” Cullen said. He sat down on a nearby chair, and rubbed his face with his hands. “Something is wrong.”

Dorian sat down opposite him, still not fully believing him, but he couldn’t deny that something was off.

“And she wasn’t with you?” Dorian probed.

“No!” Cullen said forcefully.

“Hmm,” Dorian stroke his chin. “Maybe something on the way there… but if something happened, why didn’t she tell Solas or me?”

For a moment they sat in silence, both lost in thoughts. Eventually Cullen got up. “Well, there’s only one way to find out. I go talk to her.”

Dorian nodded. “Tell her I’m there for her if she needs me.”

Cullen smiled. “I think she already knows that, but I’ll tell her anyway.” And with that he left.

“You surprise me, Dorian,” Solas voice came from below, as soon as Cullen had left the library.

Dorian lent on the cordon and looked down. “Oh? And why is that?”

“I expected at least one fireball.”

“Are you insane? Not in a library!” Dorian huffed and got back to the bookshelf, ignoring Solas’ faint snicker.

---

Well… that went horrible. Y/N sat on her bed, with her head in her hands. So much for handling it like an adult.

She knew had to get a grip. It may hurt, but she needed to get her feelings under control. After all, she was supposed to work together with him and couldn’t avoid him forever. Not to mention it was anything but fair to him. He didn’t do anything wrong.

After telling herself several times that she needed to stop moping, because that wouldn’t change anything, she got up and went to her desk. A pile of unread letters waited for her to be read and answered. Maybe this could distract her for a while.

Just when she was halfway through the first letter, she heard the door to her tower being opened and closed. She put the letter down and waiter for the visitor to announce themselves.

“Inquisitor?” Cullens voice carried up the stone walls.

He noticed. Shit. He noticed and is going to ask what’s wrong! What am I supposed to say? Shit, shit, shit!

“Up here,” she answered, and hoped he wouldn’t notice the slight waver in her voice.

Soon Cullen conquered the last steps. He knew he had to find out what happened yesterday, but he hadn’t thought about how to do that. Now that he was there, standing on top of the stairs, he silently cursed himself for not thinking of a plan before he marched into her private quarters.

“I- um, may I speak with you for a moment?” he asked and rubbed the back of his neck.

“Yes, sure, of course,” she said and wondered if she demonstrate her nervousness any more obvious.

She gestured to the chair on the other side of her desk, and Cullen sat down, looking anywhere but at her.

Cullen cleared his throat. “I was wondering if I have done anything to offend you?”

Yes. No. Yes… but not really. I hate my life. She shook her head. “No, everything’s fine.”

“Then why… this morning, at the meeting, it seemed like you were avoiding me, and when I talked to Dorian, he told me you were upset yesterday, after, so he and Solas assume, visiting my tower,” he said, and finally looked at her. She was blushing an adorable shade of red.

The images of last night came flashing back. She standing in front of his tower, ready to knock, when she heard the moan. A moan she would have been delighted to hear under different circumstances. Her heart throbbed painfully and she swallowed a lump in her throat. “I- it- it was… nothing. Really. It was nothing to worry about.”

Cullen didn’t understand her. She was obviously upset, if not downright distressed. Something was bothering her, why wouldn’t she tell him. He thought they’d build a friendship over the last couple of month, and she would trust him enough to tell him if something wasn’t right. Maybe he had been wrong. He had hoped she would see him as more than just the commander of the Inquisition, but a friend whom she can tell everything as well. Ever since they arrived at Skyhold, he and Y/N would spend some time together, talking about anything and everything. They would even flirt occasionally, and Cullen had hoped that perhaps, she could feel something more for him. But it looks like he had been wrong.

It hurt, but he wouldn’t give up that easily. She may not feel the same for him, but if something was bothering her, he wanted to know and fix it. He would be there for her, as commander, as friend, as lover, whatever she choose him to be! “Inqui- Y/N,” he said softly, “I can see something is bothering you. Did something happened while you were on the way to my tower? Because I know, as opposed to what Dorian may thinks, that you weren’t in my tower. I sleep so lightly, I would have heard you knocking or entering. Please tell me what happened. I- we are worried about you, Y/N.”

Y/N looked at him with wide eyes. “Asleep? You were asleep?”

“Yes!?” it almost sounded like a question.

“Oh…” Suddenly she realised that he probably moaned in his dream, or even worse, his nightmare. And I ran away like some angsty teenager. Way to go, Y/N!

“What does it have to so with anything?” Cullen asked, still confused by her question.

A good question for which she had no answer, expect for the truth but that was not an option. For the second time this day, she put her head in her hands and groaned.

Cullen rounded the table and knelled beside her. “Y/N, what’s wrong?”

“I’m an idiot, that’s what’s wrong,” she muttered between her hands.

“I don’t understand…”

“I thought,” but she stopped herself. She couldn’t tell him the truth, it was too humiliating!

Cullen carefully took her hands and lowered them from her face. Her expression was a mixture of defeat and anger. Without realising it, he cupped her cheek. His thumb was softly stroking her cheekbone. When she looked at him with a questioning gaze, he froze. What was he thinking? He wanted to lower his hand, but her hand stopped him. It was his turn to look rather puzzled. She leaned into his palm, and both of them relaxed a little.

“What happened, Y/N,” he tried again, his voice barely above a whisper as if he was afraid that speaking too loud would ruin this moment.

“Like I said, I was an idiot,” she said with a sad smile.

“But what does it mean?”

She said nothing and only starred into his eyes. This beautiful shade of brown, in which she could easily get lost in. Her eyes flickered to his mouth. She had been wondering for some time what it would be like to kiss those lips. He was so close… it would be so easily to just kiss him. She looked back up. His looked so worried at her, it brought her out of her little fantasy, and she remembered that she owned him an explanation and maybe an apology.

“Cullen I-” But he pressed his lips to hers, before she could say any more.

For a second she was too shocked to do anything, but before she knew it, she was leaning into the kiss. His lips, so warm and soft against hers… But before she could truly savour the moment, his lips were already gone, along his his hand on her cheek.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry, I don’t know what came over me!” Cullen backed away from her and stood up.

“Cullen-” she said, a little breathless.

“I have no words for how sorry I am,” he continued to ramble.

She stood up and walked over to him, until she stood directly in front of him. “You don’t need to apologise.” This time it was her hand that cupped his cheek. “Just tell me, do you feel… could you imagine… I mean…” Why was this confession stuff so hard?!

“Yes,” he said, “I mean, that is, if you wanted to ask… I felt something for you for a while and…”

“Me, too!” she said. They were slowly closing the space between them. “I just never thought you…”

“Y/N? May I kiss you again?”

His husky voice send her shiver through her. “Maker, please!”

---

“Sooooo?” Dorian asked and plopped down next to her.

Y/N knew it was a mistake to have her breakfast in the hall, but eating alone in her chambers was always kind of depressing.

“So what?” she asked him, not looking up from her plate.

“A little birdie tole me-”

“Was that birdie’s name Sera? Or Varric?” she asked.

“-that our dear commander visited you again last evening, but no one saw him leaving it. Not until half an hour ago.” Though it was a statement, the question he wanted to ask was clear. She wouldn’t make it that easy for him, though.

“That’s right,” she said in a neutral voice.

When Dorian didn’t ask anything else, she looked up, and regretted it immediately. He was looking at her meaningfully.

She sighed. “Yes, we stuttered our way through…”

Dorian laughed. “Oh, it must have been adorable! I want all the details!”

“All the details of what?” Cullen’s voice came from behind them.

Y/N quickly got out of her chair. “Cullen! Now that you’re here we can finally start with the meeting.” She grabbed his arm and pulled him away from the table.

“But I haven’t had any breakfast, yet,” he protested weakly.

Solas sat down where Y/N sat only moments ago, watching the couple. “Should we tell them that this door leads to her chambers and the war room?”

“Nah,” Dorian said, “let them have some fun.”

#dragon age #dragon age inquisition #dai #cullen #cullen rutherford #cullen x reader #cullen rutherford x reader #reader insert #da reader insert #dai reader insert #my fics #my da fics

[misscorn]

Day 4

Free Prompt

👀 @sihjrweek the saga continues, read my previous entries for context 😋

***

"Richan, what was all that about?" An asked, leaving her spot on the porch and walking up to Ritsu.

Ritsu hadn't moved despite Saga now being out of his sight. The teen was devastated and completely clueless about what he should do in order to make this right. Should he chase after him again? Give him space? Should he even bother going to the library tomorrow?

"Richan?" An frowned, realizing that he was crying.

"I-I'm sorry An, I-I know its your birthday, b-but do you think you could go home? I want to be alone right now." Ritsu sniffled.

"What kind of a friend would I be if I left you all alone while you're like this? Come on, let's go back inside and talk about this." An managed to lead him back into the house and made him sit on the couch with her, but not before she grabbed some tissues for him. "Tell me what's going on."

Ritsu accepted the tissues, using a couple and doing his best to stop his tears. "I-I don't really want to talk about it, An." He frowned. "I know you're just trying to be a good friend, but...I just can't tell you."

"You can't?" An frowned. "Is that boy bullying you?"

"What? No!"

"Blackmailing you? Threatening you?"

"No, nothing like that!" Ritsu said. He was surprised at how quickly An had jumped to that assumption.

"Well, then why can't you tell me?"

Ritsu frowned. "Because it might...change things between us." He said. "And I can't lose the two people I care about the most in the same day."

"Richan..." An reached over, holding one of his hands tightly. "No matter what happens I will always be your friend."

Ritsu gave her hand a small squeeze and took a deep breath. "You can't tell anyone about this."

"I promise."

Ritsu stared at their locked hands as he spoke. "Saga Senpai is...special to me."

"Special?" An frowned in confusion.

"Yes. Special." Ritsu swallowed, losing some of his nerve and not elaborating.

An tried to piece together what Ritsu could mean by that. She'd seen Ritsu and Saga together at the library in the past, even on Valentine's Day she recalled getting a glance of the upperclassman. Now, they had spent White Day together...and Saga left after she found the promise rings...

"Richan...is Saga Senpai your boyfriend?"

Ritsu squeezed his eyes shut and held her hand tight. "Yes."

Ritsu waited to be yelled at, for An to rip away from him, for her to tell him that he was gross or just confused before storming out and never talking to him again.

"I'm sor-" Ritsu started to apologize when the silence lasted too long, but An cut him off.

"I ruined your White Day!" She cried out. "I'm so, so sorry Richan, if I had known I would have just gone home, please let me make this better somehow!"

"...You're not mad at me?"

"Mad at you? I'm mad at me! You probably had a whole thing planned out and I completely crashed the party!" An felt both humiliated and guilty. She had been third wheeling without even realizing it and now she had caused a fight between the two of them! She probably made them fight on Valentine's Day too!

"But...Saga Senpai is a guy...and you also like me." Ritsu said, confused.

"I know. Guy, girl, I don't care, you're still my best friend. You always have been and you always will be. And yes I like you, and I don't think anyone could possibly love you as much as I do, but...if you're happy then I'm happy." An said. Of course, there was a bittersweetness to it for her, but her heartbreak was her own to deal with.

"You're a great friend, Anchan." Ritsu said. 'Better than I deserve', he thought to himself. "Thank you."

An smiled kindly, hiding her sadness at the word 'friend'. "Don't thank me yet. I still need to find a way to make this up to you."

Ritsu tried to insist that An needed to do no such thing, but regardless she did her best to try to improve the night and get Ritsu's mind off the fiasco that White Day had devolved into, at least for a little while.

Still, Ritsu couldn't just pretend away the day, even if he tried.

He had to make this right.

Ritsu was not a particularly courageous person. Often his moments of bravery were actually moments of recklessness, but the next day he either had to steel himself for the worst or forever regret not trying to make things right with his first and only love.

"Saga Senpai..." Ritsu approached their library table timidly after class let out, his White Day gifts in his hands. He put the container of sweets and jar of white origami stars down, for once not caring about whether or not anyone was near to see or hear. This was more important than his own anxieties and fears.

To anyone who didn't know Saga very well he'd probably look completely normal, but Ritsu picked up on little cues that clued him in that something was very wrong.

There were faint bags under Saga's eyes, not noticeable at first glance, but upon a second look he clearly hadn't gotten a good night sleep. Usually he sat so relaxed in the library with his shoulders slouched and his movements slow, but he shut the book he was pretending to read in a quick, tense motion before his head jerked up to look at Ritsu.

"What?" Saga asked tersely.

Ritsu was no stranger to the single word (sometimes single syllable) responses he received from Saga Senpai from time to time, but this time it shot straight through his heart. Still, Ritsu took a deep breath and refused to retreat, no matter how bad he wanted to.

"These are your White Day presents. I-I never got the chance to give them to you yesterday." Ritsu said. "I also had a white rose, but I was scared I'd hurt it somehow if I tried bringing it to school. A-Anyway, I just wanted to let you know how sorry I am for what happened. I know I should've told you the whole truth about An, but I never lied to you. An isn't my girlfriend and I did reject her. I love you and only you and I'm not marrying An, regardless of what she or my mother or even what you might think." Ritsu had to pause as his strength wavered for a moment, his throat tightening in that familiar pre-cry way. "I-I don't want you to think these gifts are some sort of a bribe to try to get you to forgive me or anything like that. These were always meant for you so I thought it was only right that you have them. B-but if you don't want them-"

"What's this?" Saga said, reaching out for the jar and picking it up. He still hadn't looked Ritsu in eye yet, but the brunette hoped his curiosity about the present was a good sign.

"Th-they're origami stars. If you unfold them each one has a reason I-I love you written inside." Ritsu flushed red, embarrassed from saying such a thing out loud.

Saga turned the jar in his hands, looking at it from all sides. "There's a lot of stars."

Ritsu just nodded. "L-Like I said, you don't have to keep it if you don't want it. And I...I understand if you don't want to see me anymore..." He tried not to let on how much pain the thought of not seeing his Senpai caused him. He wanted to respect whatever Saga's wishes were, even if those wishes broke his heart.

"Why would I not want to see you anymore?"

Ritsu was both surprised and confused by the question. "Because you're mad at me?"

Saga huffed. "Yeah, I'm mad, but I still love you. I just need some time to fully get over it. But like hell if I'm just gonna step aside and let that girl pretend like she's your girlfriend or fiancée or whatever." He said, sliding the container of sweets closer to him. These were his White Day gifts damn it and he was going to enjoy them. Did Ritsu make these cookies himself? Fuck, why'd Ritsu have to make it so hard to stay mad at him? While Saga was trying to maintain his brooding and angry attitude, Ritsu was hung up on one thing he had said.

'I still love you'

Ritsu's breath was caught in his throat and he trembled slightly at those words, his emotions overwhelming him.

Saga Senpai...loved him?

Ritsu thought he had heard him say it before, but he had convinced himself that he simply misunderstood or misheard. Saga Senpai couldn't, wouldn't love him.

But he did.

"Hey, hey, hey shouldn't I be the one crying here?" Saga asked, standing and going to Ritsu's side.

"S-S-Sorry, I just-I thought that y-you wouldn't want to be with me anymore." Ritsu laughed past his tears, feeling relieved, stupid, guilty, happy, and above all adoration and love for Saga Masamune.

"Idiot. Of course I do. So stop crying, alright?" Saga said before picking up the jar again and taking off the cap. He plucked one of the stars out and started to unfold it.

"Y-You're going to read one right now?" Ritsu asked nervously.

"Yeah."

"C-C-Can't you wait till I'm not here or something?" Ritsu asked, turning pink.

"No." Saga finished unfolding it. "I love you because-"

"Don't read it out loud!" Ritsu interuppted quickly. Saga reading even a single one out loud would surely be the death of him.

Saga held back a smirk. "Fine. But, only if I still get that dinner I'm owed. And my rose."

"O-Okay...my parents are still gone...i-if you wanted to come over tonight..."

Saga grabbed his bag right away. "Let's go."

"Right now?" Ritsu asked, a little taken back by his eagerness.

"Mm." Saga gave a slight nod. "You're already a day late, I don't want to wait any longer."

Ritsu, excited and nervous, led Saga out of the library. He'd have to start coming up with Valentine's Day plans NOW to make up for the less than perfect White Day. Of course there was also the issue of getting his mother to finally accept that his arranged engagement was pointless. Without that, this would never be properly resolved. But, that was a problem for when Youko got back home. For now, both Ritsu and Saga were content to simply be in one another's company.

#sekaiichi hatsukoi #onodera ritsu #saga masamune #kohinata an #sihjrweek #this is my least favorite one so far but i hope someone gets enjoyment out of it 😊 #again this one wasnt really proofread lmao

[elsanna-shenanigans]

June Contest Submission #9: Open the Closed Door

Words: ca. 1,400 Setting: Canon Lemon: No CW: None

***

“Do you remember when this all started?” Elsa asked while looking down at the nude woman in her arms. Anna nodded and let out a huge sigh. “Yeah. There was a thunderstorm right?” Elsa nodded while humming in agreement. “You used to be so afraid of them. What changed?” “You did,” Anna replied, “You opened up and now I can come to you whenever I feel scared.” Elsa felt her heartbreak at the vulnerability in her sister’s voice. Things have changed quite a bit, but she can’t help the sadness that seeps in whenever she thinks about how her sister would beg outside her bedroom door for her to come out. “What made you come to me that first time?“  was all that she asked in reply.

“Well, you had started to come out every once in a while and I really was afraid of the thunderstorm.” At this, Elsa released a pained sigh, but Anna just continued. “That night the booming from the thunder was too loud. I felt like it was right outside my window and the castle would come down around us.”

Elsa didn’t remember that about the storm but knew it must’ve been pretty bad for Anna to come to her room. After a brief pause, Anna continued, “I was so scared and I really needed someone, but especially my big sister, so I just came over and knocked. I didn’t think you’d actually answer and I was ready to just sit outside your door all night if you didn’t. You opened the door and the lighting flashed behind you and I just realized how beautiful you were. I was seeing you in a whole new light.” Elsa smiled, remembering that moment. “Its funny because I thought the same about you. I always kept tabs on how you were doing around the castle, but it was different seeing you in front of me. I had already noticed how pretty you were, but it was different that night. I don’t know what but it just felt different. You were standing there with the blanket mom and dad had given you when we were younger wrapped around your shoulders.” That night after letting Anna in, Elsa just stared at her for a while. Anna stared back, being just as entranced. A crack of thunder made them jump and break out of their trances. Elsa realized they were standing in the middle of her room and went over to the bed. She pulled back the blankets and got in but kept holding it up for Anna to slide in next to her. Elsa always felt too cold, especially with the chill that came in with the storm, and felt like Anna was always too warm. Having her in bed felt like she had her own space heater. She cuddled into the warmth that Anna brought in, and Anna was seemingly just as eager to cuddle as she was. Her younger sister moved in and wrapped her arms around her waist. Another crack of thunder made her jump, and Elsa pulled her in and cuddled her closer. Anna rested her head on Elsa’s shoulder but looked up and asked, “Is this okay?” She didn’t want to make Elsa uncomfortable and get kicked out of her bed. Elsa just replied, “of course,” to further reassure her younger sister. She pressed a quick kiss to her crown. This was more physical than their relationship has ever been. The most they’ve ever done is shared quick hugs in the morning before Elsa would lock herself back in her room or her office. Anna seemingly wasn’t okay with this and leaned up and pressed a quick kiss to the corner of Elsa’s mouth. They both turned red at this, and Anna quickly tried to apologize. She hadn’t meant to kiss so close to Elsa’s mouth, but in an attempt to reassure her sister Elsa wanted to kiss her in the same place. Anna was moving around too much, though, and Elsa pressed a kiss on her sister’s lips. Anna squeaked in surprise, and Elsa’s blush spread to her ears and chest. The sisters couldn’t even look at each other they were so shocked and embarrassed by the turn their night has taken. They both just laid there in silence, not knowing what to do now. Their relationship seemed different now. There was another crack of thunder that made the younger woman jump. After a few more moments of silence, Anna turned her sister’s face towards her and said, “Its okay, Elsa. It was an accident, right?” That was the problem though, Elsa wasn’t sure it was entirely an accident. She stayed silent for too long, and Anna again interrupted her thoughts and said, “Unless you meant it which is cool too. I’d be cool with whatever. Accident or not it doesn’t really matter to me. Well I guess it does matter if you meant it. I’d like it if you meant it, but if not we can just pretend it never happened. We can just go back to the way things were. Again it doesn’t really matter to me. I mean we could always just -” Elsa decided to cut off her sister’s rambling, knowing that Anna would keep talking herself in circles, trying to reassure her. “Anna, please stop. I think I meant it. Okay?” “Oh” was all Anna replied. This caused Elsa to pause. She was pretty sure she heard Anna say that she’d like it if it was on purpose. She started to panic. What if she misheard her? Before she could spiral any further into her self-doubt, Anna leaned over and kissed her. It was just a peck, but Anna seemed to want to make it deeper. She put her hand on Elsa’s cheek, turned her head, and pressed their lips harder together. She kept incessantly pressing their lips together. Elsa pulled her head back and was slightly confused about what her younger sister was doing. She’d only kissed a few people, but never like this. “What are you doing?” She asked the younger woman, confused. “Trying to kiss you. You know, like they do in the books.” was all Anna replied. “Oh. Well, have you ever kissed someone before?” Anna froze. She didn’t think that Elsa would notice how inexperienced she was. Of course she never kissed anyone. She hardly had any friends outside the castle, and anyone in town who dared to get close enough to the princess wouldn’t risk the wrath of the Ice Queen by kissing her sister. She just slowly shook her head in response to Elsa’s question. She was too embarrassed to verbalize her response. Elsa just nodded for a while before saying, “It’s my first time too. I never left the castle so I never had the chance to try it with anyone.” Anna was shocked, but it did make sense. Elsa never left her room when they were growing up. “I guess we can learn together,” Anna replied enthusiastically. Elsa nodded, and they both leaned in to kiss, but both accidentally leaned the same way, almost making their noses bump. They both tried to correct the mistake and again almost bumped their noses. Elsa huffed in annoyance and grabbed Anna’s face to hold her still. This time she leaned in too suddenly, and her teeth clashed with Anna’s. “What the heck Elsa?” cried Anna indignantly. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to!” Elsa apologized sincerely. “Its okay. Let’s try this.” While talking, Anna grabbed Elsa’s face and pressed a quick peck to her lips. She then turned her head and slotted their lips together. Elsa then began taking over the kiss. She slid her tongue along the seam of her sister’s lips, quietly asking for entrance. Anna parted her lips and felt the Ice Queen’s tongue touching hers. They continued to kiss like this until Anna was moaning into it. She pulled back and asked, “We can keep doing this?” Elsa laughed and just responded, “Of course.” She couldn’t imagine their relationship ever going back to the way things were before this. She looked down at her sister and, for the second time that night, thought about how she could’ve purposely locked herself away when this ball of sunshine was just outside her door waiting for her to come out. Anna cleared her throat and brought Elsa back to the present. Elsa almost forgot that Anna was asking her if she remembered how their relationship had started. She just looked down at the nude Anna in her arms and finally responded, “Of course I remember how we started. I don’t think I could ever forget it.” Anna looked at Elsa and wagged her eyebrows while asking, “Do you remember what we did during the next storm?”

#elsanna #submission #June 2021 contest #prompt: storm

[myonechicagoworld]

CHICAGO FIRE – WARM AND DEAD (S01E13)

                                          [elevator dings]

Renee Royce: Oh [laughs] Oh….

                         No. No, no, no, no, no, no.

Kelly Severide: Come on.

Renee Royce: No! [chuckles]

                         Wow.

Renee Royce: Do you mind taking our picture?

Man 1: Sure.

                                       [camera clicks]

Renee Royce: [laughs]

Kelly Severide: Apartment fire. Ten car pile up. Hand caught in a

                          machine.

Renee Royce: Okay, all right. In Madrid, it is going to be, um, tapas,

                         tapas, dance club, and, um, Catholic Church.

Kelly Severide: You think I can dance?

Renee Royce: Well, I can dance and you can just watch.

Kelly Severide: That I can do.

                           I’ve never done that before.

Renee Royce: Oh, yeah?

Kelly Severide: Yeah.

Renee Royce: Wow. Well then, I guess this is gonna be the first of

                         many new things then, huh?

Kelly Severide: Yeah.

Renee Royce: Yeah.

                                          [kissing sound]

Kelly Severide: What is it?

Renee Royce: I met this doctor.

Kelly Severide: A doctor?

Renee Royce: Not like that. I just, um… Well I put out some feelers

                         to my medical contacts and, um, it turns out that

                         the Chief of Orthopedics over at River Forest

                         Hospital is… pioneering some kind of experimental

                         spinal surgery, and he wants to meet you.

Kelly Severide: Really?

Renee Royce: Yeah. 

                         You know what? Maybe this will help you get to

                          Madrid even sooner. Hm.

                                           [kissing sound]

                                               cutscene

                                            [phone rings]

Chief Boden: Chief Boden. 

Ernie: Do you remember me?

Chief Boden: Ernie.

Ernie: Yeah.

Chief Boden: What’s going on? You okay?

Ernie: No.

Chief Boden: [sighs] Talk to me. Where are you?

                       Ernie.

                       Ernie.

                                           [hangs up]

Chief Boden: Ernie.

                              [car door opens & shuts]

                                     [engine revs off]

                                    [dramatic music]

                                       [siren blares]

                                      [horn blasting]

                                    [truck door shuts]

Christopher Herrmann: Hardware store. Not good.

Matt Casey: Cruz, Mills, vent the roof.

Joe Cruz: Hardware store’s got propane tanks, accelerants.

                                        [explosion]

Matt Casey: Go, go, go!

                                       [siren blares]

Chief Boden: (into radio) Dispatch be advised, Battalion 25’s on

                        scene.

Dispatcher: (over radio) Copy that, 25.

Matt Casey: Got one down.

                                       [metal clangs]

Matt Casey: Herrmann, take his legs.

                                  [overlapping chatter]

Gabby Dawson: No pulse. 

Leslie Shay: Not breathing.

Engine Fireman: Fire’s out, Chief. Looks like another dumpster fire.

                                                - title - 

Gabby Dawson: What’s up?

Otis Zvonecek: The door’s jammed. 

Christopher Herrmann: I told Chief we needed to grease this

                                        puppy before the weather turned.

Mouch: And what, he ignored you?

Christopher Herrmann: No, he told me to do it, but I forgot. 

                                        I’ve been preoccupied. 

Mouch: Weren’t you and Cindy using protection?

Christopher Herrmann: We’ve got four kids, Mouch. I was counting

                                         on my sperm being too tired to make the

                                         swim.

Leslie Shay: Well, I’m gonna head inside and check the levels on

                      the hot chocolate.

Gabby Dawson: Yeah, I’m gonna provide back-up.

Otis Zvonecek: You know, my grandmother had this garage door

                           that was always stuck 2 feet off the ground. So one

                           time I tell my brother Nick, I say, “go inside and

                           grab some butter.”

Peter Mills: What?

Christopher Herrmann: We got a rule. You tell a story that we’ve all

                                         heard a million times, we raise our hand,

                                         you gotta shut up, no questions asked.

Otis Zvonecek: That’s actually impolite and insulting.

Christopher Herrmann: Like that’s on us [laughs]

Peter Mills: I haven’t heard the story.

Joe Cruz: Mills, let’s go.

Otis Zvonecek: Where are you guys going?

Peter Mills: Oh, I asked Cruz to give me driving lessons.

Otis Zvonecek: I-I’m actually next in line to drive 81. You know

                          that. 

                           Lieutenant?

Matt Casey: Not now, Otis.

Otis Zvonecek: [sighs]

Kid 1 (Roman): Hey, I… I got this dog here, if anyone wants it.

Mouch: Don’t even think about it. Had a dog over at 80 when I was

              there. Still have the teeth marks in my ankle to prove it.

Kid 1 (Roman): My dad says he’s gonna throw it in the river if I don’t

                           get rid of it. 

Peter Mills: I’ll take it, or at least I can find a home for it or

                    something.

                                               [dog whimpers]

Kid 1 (Roman): He likes bacon.

Mouch: Well, there’s that.

Peter Mills: Does he have a name?

Gabby Dawson: Aw, dad, can we keep it? Huh, can we? Can we?

                            Can we?

Chief Boden: Keep what?

Leslie Shay: The dog.

Matt Casey: [chuckles softly]

                                               [dog yipping]

Peter Mills: The kid’s dad was gonna drown it if we didn’t take it.

Chief Boden: He can’t stay.

                       I got a call at 67 over at Morningside. They need relief

                       for the next two shifts.

Otis Zvonecek: I’ll do it.

Joe Cruz: What? That’s the slowest house in the city.

Otis Zvonecek: I’ll do it.

Hadley: Oh, what the hell? You’ve got a medical furlough, Severide.

              That means you’re medically required to be out drinking.

Kelly Severide: Yeah, well… this may be more than just a furlough.

                           I’m moving to Spain with Renee.

Chief Boden: Between your history with us and your father’s

                       distinguished career, I can get you arson

                       investigation. Or the academy. Your choice.

Kelly Severide: I appreciate it, Chief, I do. But I’m leaving.

Chief Boden: Kelly… just sleep on it.

Kelly Severide: I have.

Chief Boden: [sighs]

Kelly Severide: Hey. You okay?

Chief Boden: You were right about Ernie. He called, said he was in

                        trouble, and then he hung up. Right before we

                        responded to another dumpster fire. 

                        I don’t know where to find him.

Kelly Severide: You tried to help him, Chief.

Chief Boden: Did I?

Kelly Severide: You reached out to him. You invited him in.

Chief Boden: Kelly, I saw him with this man… everything about it

                       felt wrong.

Kelly Severide: And you handed it over to the police.

Chief Boden: And what have they done, huh? Nothing.

Leslie Shay: Hey, uh, I must have misheard Capp, because he said

                      something about you going to Spain.

Kelly Severide: Yeah. I was gonna tell you this morning, but, uh… I

                           missed you. 

Leslie Shay: How long have you known this?

Kelly Severide: A day. Maybe two.

                                       [alarm buzzes & blares]

(Over PA): Truck 81, Ambulance 61. 425 Lake Street.

                   Infant shooting.

                                             [engine starts]

                                              [siren blares]

Lady 1: My baby. My baby’s been shot. 

                                           [dramatic music]

                                              [door slams]

                                              [gun cocks]

Lady 1: Baby!

Man 2 (Baby): You called the cops?

Lady 1: You’ve been shot, baby.

              Put down that… [yells] Aah!

Leslie Shay: Whoa, take it easy.

Man 2 (Baby): Shut up and stay away from me!

                         I’m not going back to jail.

Gabby Dawson: We’re not the cops.

Man 2 (Baby): This was self defense.

Gabby Dawson: Of course it was.

Man 2 (Baby): You stay where you are.

Leslie Shay: Are you gonna shoot me for helping your mom?

                                      [pounding at door]

Matt Casey: Fire department!

                                   [pounding continues]

Man 2 (Baby): Tell ‘em to stop bangin’!

                         Tell ‘em to stop, or I’m gonna blow a hole right

                         through that door!

                                       [taser buzzes]

Man 2 (Baby): [groans]

                                            [thuds]

Matt Casey: Dawson? Shay?

Gabby Dawson: You can’t carry a taser.

Leslie Shay: Yeah, well [breathing heavily] tell that to Baby.

                                       [door breaking]

Gabby Dawson: Baby here, uh, cold-cocked his mom and then

                            tripped and bumped his head.

Matt Casey: Baby?

Leslie Shay: Where in the code of conduct book does it say you

                      can’t carry a taser?

Gabby Dawson: [sighs] Page one.

Leslie Shay: Oh, I should totally read that someday.

                                          cutscene

Otis Zvonecek: [exhales]

Mouch: Hey, Otis, remember to bring some reading materials with

              you to Morningside.

Otis Zvonecek: [sighs]

Christopher Herrmann: 10 bucks you sell more Morningside

                                         T-shirts to tourists than you get calls.

Otis Zvonecek: Wager denied.

Mouch & Herrmann: [laughs]

Peter Mills: Yo, Dawson, hold up.

                     Hey.

                     Yo, I’m sorry about before. It’s just that on shift, it’s…

Gabby Dawson: Oh, stop it. It’s all right.

Peter Mills: It’s just… you know that it drives me crazy.

Gabby Dawson: We’ll figure it out. 

                            Text me after you get some rest.

Peter Mills: Sounds good.

                                           [dog yips]

                                       [kissing sound]

Peter Mills: Mm.

                                         [horn honks]

Matt Casey: You wanna get breakfast?

Gabby Dawson: Yeah, sure, absolutely. 

                                       [car door shuts]

Leslie Shay: Wow, look at you. You look like you’re about to pop.

Clarice: Yeah, a few more weeks.

Leslie Shay: Thank you. I heard if you eat eggplant, the baby comes

                      right out.

Clarice: I moved out.

Leslie Shay: What? 

Clarice: I told Daniel it wasn’t gonna work… ever.

              And I, uh… I moved back in with my parents.

Leslie Shay: Wow.

Clarice: Yeah, I know. [chuckles] I mean, it’s exactly where I

               imagined my life at 30, back with Barb and Gene in

               my room…

Leslie Shay: [chuckles]

Clarice: ... with the No Doubt poster.

Leslie Shay: Right. 

Clarice: Yeah.

Leslie Shay: And don’t forget pregnant.

Clarice: Well, I know what you’re thinking.

Leslie Shay: What’s that?

Clarice: That the way I live my life finally caught up with me.

Leslie Shay: That’s not what I’m thinking.

Clarice: And you would be right.

              Anyway, um… I just came back ‘cause I wanted to say

              thank you again. And you were a friend to me when I did

              not deserve one.

Leslie Shay: Forget Gene and Barb. Stay with me.

Clarice: No… that’s not why I came back.

Leslie Shay: No, end of discussion.

                                            cutscene

Gabby Dawson: And you don’t wanna get of the wrong side of my

                            abuela. Trust me. She’s got this look that she’ll

                            throw you when she’s aggravated.

                                    [Matt & Gabby laughs]

Gabby Dawson: That means tread lightly.

Matt Casey: Yeah, I can see that.

                      I’m gonna speak up for my mom at the hearing today.

Gabby Dawson: And how does your sister feel?

Matt Casey: Like I’m a traitor.

                     She’s spoken against my mom’s release every year,

                     which is all the board needs to hear to deny parole.

Gabby Dawson: Ugh. That’s a tough one.

Matt Casey: Yeah.

Gabby Dawson: You want me to come with you today?

Matt Casey: Ah, you never know how long these things are gonna

                      go. It could be a few hours before we even get inside.

Gabby Dawson: I’m coming.

                                              [mug clanks]

                                                 cutscene

Receptionist: Chief, you have a call. It sounds urgent.

                        Okay, stand by. Here he is.

Chief Boden: This is Chief Boden. 

Ernie: I’m in trouble.

Chief Boden: Ernie, where are you? 

Ernie: Uncle Ray makes me do it.

Chief Boden: I know. Just tell me where you are. 

Ernie: He’d kill me if he knew I called you.

Chief Boden: I will not let that happen. 

                       Ernie, please let me help you.

                       Ernie. Just tell me where you are.

Ernie: In-in front of some store on South Halsted and Marquette.

Chief Boden: Okay. Don’t move. I am on my way.

                                    [car door shuts]

Chief Boden: Ernie?

                       Ernie!

                                         cutscene

Orthopedic Doctor (Dr. Doriot): We take parts of bone and

                                                      cartilage from one vertebra and

                                                      fuse it onto the next. And then

                                                      we inject your own platelets

                                                      into the area, which increases

                                                      healing. Recovery time could

                                                      be four weeks instead of one

                                                      year.

Kelly Severide: How come I didn’t hear about this from my other

                           surgeon?

Orthopedic Doctor (Dr. Doriot): This isn’t covered by an HMO.

                                                      It’s experimental. I’m not gonna lie

                                                      to you. There are real risks here,

                                                      including partial paralysis.

Kelly Severide: Partial paralysis?

Renee Royce: I am so sorry. I, um… I guess I didn’t realise how

                         risky it was.

Kelly Severide: Hey. 

                           If I’m gonna risk anything, I’ll risk it on you and me

                           in Madrid.

                                        [kissing sound]

                                             cutscene

Parole Board Member: Is there anyone present who would like to

                                        speak either on behalf of or in opposition

                                        to Nancy Annalyn Casey’s request for

                                        parole?

Matt Casey: Yes. My name is Matthew Casey. I’m Nancy’s son.

                      I’d like to speak, please.

Parole Board Member: In four years, you’ve never spoken before,

                                        Mr. Casey. Why now? What’s changed?

Matt Casey: Well, uh, when I was seven, I, uh, I stole a baseball mitt

                      from a sporting goods store. I got caught, and the

                      owner wanted to call the cops, teach me a lesson.

                      But my mom came down there and, uh, got him to

                      agree to let me work off the cost of the mitt by

                      sweeping his floor. And when my sister crashed the

                      family car, my dad wanted to kick her out of the house.

                      But my mom talked to him, worked it out where

                      Christie could work off the repairs by cleaning dad’s

                      office. What I’m-I’m trying to say is that my mom

                      understood punishment, but she also understood

                      forgiveness. She did a horrible thing that she regrets

                      terribly, and she’s paid the price with 15 years of her

                      life. But now it’s time for forgiveness, from all of us.

                      We lost both our father and our mother that day.

                      So, uh… so what’s changed? Well, I have.

                      I forgive her now.

Parole Board Member: Okay. Thank you, Mr. Casey.

Matt Casey: Thank you.

Parole Board Member: Would anyone else like to speak, either for

                                        or in opposition to Ms. Casey’s possible

                                        parole?

                                        All right, then, Ms. Casey. 

                                        We’ll start with a simple question.

                                        Do you feel remorse for your crime?

Nancy Casey: Yes. Yes. Yes, I do… every day.

                                              cutscene

Otis Zvonecek: [exhales] Hey there, fellas. I’m, uh, Brian Zvonecek. 

                           I’m relieving here for the next couple shifts.

                                               cutscene

                                             [door shuts]

                                             [keys clank]

Kelly Severide: Hey.

                          I said hey.

                          I know what you’re doing.

Leslie Shay: Oh, yeah? What am I doing?

Kelly Severide: You’re not pissed at me because I didn’t tell you

                          first. You’re pissed off because you don’t want

                          me to go.

Leslie Shay: Clarice is moving in. She’s gonna need your key.

                                                 cutscene

Otis Zvonecek: [chuckles] This guy, he has a heart attack coming

                           down the stairs. 

                                                 [laughter]

Otis Zvonecek: I mean, his heart stops and everything.

Man 3: I think I heard about that.

Otis Zvonecek: Yeah, yeah. And we had to put the paddles on him

                           and… [clicks mouth] he pops right back up, like,

                           no big deal, you know? I mean, he completed

                           training. I think he’s over at 94. 

Man 3: [laughs]

Otis Zvonecek: Gave him the nickname “Dead Frank.”

                                                [laughter]

Man 3: I know where I heard that story before. You’re the guy with

             the podcast.

Man 4 (Redhead): We love that podcast.

Otis Zvonecek: Herrmann, right? 

                           He put you up to this.

Man 5 (Grey hair): No, nobody did.

Otis Zvonecek: [chuckles]

                                   [alarm chimes and blares]

(Over PA): Truck 67, assist the invalid. 32… [continues indistinctly]

Man 5 (Grey hair): Hey Brian.

Otis Zvonecek: Yeah?

Man 5 (Grey hair): Why don’t you drive?

Otis Zvonecek: Seriously?

Man 5 (Grey hair): Yeah, I’m getting tired of it. Been looking for

                                someone to take over.

                                          [truck door shuts]

                                             [engine starts]

                                                 cutscene

Christopher Herrmann: It’s weird without Otis here. Who am I

                                        suppose to jag?

Joe Cruz: Don’t look at me.

Christopher Herrmann: And Severide’s gone too. I mean, he’s as

                                        cocky as they come, but if you were lying

                                        in the street, he’d give you the shirt off

                                        his back.

Mouch: If you’re lying in the street, why do you need his shirt?

Christopher Herrmann: You know what I mean.

Matt Casey: How many times I gotta tell you to stay out of the first

                      watch crate, Mouch?

Mouch: They tempt me with these marshmallows, Lieutenant.

              What am I supposed to do?

Matt Casey: Give me one.

                      Hey.

Gabby Dawson: Hey. You hear anything?

Matt Casey: Not yet. It could be a couple days.

Gabby Dawson: Fingers crossed.

Matt Casey: Thanks.

Christopher Herrmann: Chief, maybe we should rethink the dog,

                                          eh? Time 51 got one. Plus, it would

                                          really piss off Mouch.

Mouch: No way.

Christopher Herrmann: Peter Mills, where is that dog?

Peter Mills: Um, I found a home for it.

Christopher Herrmann: You did?

Mouch: Thank God.

                                  [alarm buzzes & chimes]

(Over PA): Truck 81, Ambo 61, Engine 51. 78 Racine, Apartment fire.

Chief Boden: That’s Ernie’s house.

                                        [sirens wailing]

                                        [horn honking]

Chief Boden: Ernie?

                       Ernie?

                       I’m going up. 

Matt Casey: Okay. 

                      Spread out!

Chief Boden: Ernie!

                       Ernie, call out!

                       Ernie!

                                    [ceiling collapsing]

Chief Boden: [grunts]

                       Ernie!

                       Ernie, call out.

                       Ernie.

                       Ernie!

                       Ernie!

                       [half gasp half wail]

                       Ernie? Can you hear me?

                       I’ll get you out of here. Come on. Stay with me.

                       [grunts]

                       I’m gonna get you out of here, Ernie.

                       [grunting]

                       Okay, stay with me. Stay with me.

                       Shay.

                       Ernie. Ernie.

                                      [somber music]

                                           cutscene

Christopher Herrmann: [sighs]

Mouch: [grunts] 

                                    [dog whimpering]

Mouch: What is that?

                            [dog continues whimpering]

Peter Mills: I lied. Uh, I… I-I couldn’t find anyone to take her. And 

                    I couldn’t bring her to my place. 

                    Sorry, guys. 

Joe Cruz: Oh! Come here [murmuring to dog]

                                     [dog yipping]

Leslie Shay: [murmuring to puppy]

                                  [kissing sounds]

Joe Cruz: [whispers] Hey. Do you wanna say hi to Chief?

                                 [dog whimpering]

                                [cell phone ringing]

Matt Casey: Hello?

                      Yeah.

                      [whispers] The parole board.

Joe Cruz: I-I know you like my nose but you can’t…[murmuring]

                 [whispers] Look at that. What’s that? Who’s that?

Mouch: [laughs] Ahh, jeez.

              Fine. What are we gonna call this mutt?

Christopher Herrmann: Pouch.

Mouch: Huh?

Christopher Herrmann: Half pooch, half couch.

                                          [laughter]

Mouch: Peter Mills, we’re gonna need some bacon.

Peter Mills: Right. 

Matt Casey: Thank you.

Gabby Dawson: And?

Matt Casey: They granted her parole.

Gabby Dawson: Hey, congratulations.

Matt Casey: Yeah.

Gabby Dawson: What?

Matt Casey: Well, there is one condition. She has to move into a

                      stable household. Meaning with me.

Gabby Dawson: Oh.

                                         cutscene

                                      [door breaks]

                              [door opens and closes]

                                      [siren blares]

                                   [tires screeching]

                                     [horns honking]

                                       [siren blaring]

                                     [tires screeching]

                                        [car crashes]

                                [Boden & Ray grunting]

Chief Boden: Come on! Come on!

Man 6 (Raymond Martin): [grunts & groans]

                                     [tire iron clatters]

                                  [sirens approaching]

Chief Boden: A little boy? A little boy?

Police Officer: Step back! We got it.

                                          cutscene

                                     [truck beeping]

Otis Zvonecek: [exhales]

Man 5 (Grey hair): Nice work 

Otis Zvonecek: [chuckles]

Man 5 (Grey hair): These, uh, these older houses are a tight

                                squeeze.

Otis Zvonecek: Thanks.

                           You know, I come from a family of doctors. But the

                            first time I saw a firefighter jump into a truck and

                             roar off, man, I knew I wasn’t going to medical

                             school. I wanted to drive a fire truck [chuckles]

Man 5 (Grey hair): [chuckles] Your parents okay with that?

Otis Zvonecek: Nope, but I am.

Man 5 (Grey hair): [laughs] Good for you.

                               Hey, you know, this, uh, spot in our house is

                               gonna be permanent. You should put in for a

                               transfer.

Otis Zvonecek: What, are you serious?

Man 5 (Grey hair): Hell, yeah. I’ve laughed harder this week than the

                               last two years.

                                                [both chuckles]

Man 5 (Grey hair): You should see this place in the summertime.

                                Girls everywhere, all wanting a picture with

                                Chicago’s finest [chuckling] It’s the best house

                                in the city.

                                                    cutscene

Man 7 (District Chief Arend): Public defender is saying battery,

                                                  citing you personally and the

                                                  department at large.

Chief Boden: If they wanna have that discussion…

Man 7 (District Chief Arend): You’re having it now.

Chief Boden: I apprehended a suspect in an arson and murder

                       case, a suspect with an APB out on him who the

                       CPD did not have enough manpower

                       [overlapping] to stop him from killing a little boy.

Man 7 (District Chief Arend): Do you wanna go back and take the

                                                 cop’s test? Because it’s not too late.

Man 8 (District Chief Steve Walker): Ah, come on now, Wallace.

Chief Boden: No, no, no, no. These are my bugles. I’m going on

                       furlough. When I get back, you can tell me if I should

                       put ‘em back on again.

                                               [bugles clattering]

Otis Zvonecek: Chief, I just wanna let you…

Chief Boden: Not now.

                                                      cutscene

                                                 [car door closes]

Kelly Severide: I’m a stupid ass. I know.

Leslie Shay: Yup.

Kelly Severide: And I’m sorry. I should’ve… I should’ve camped

                          outside your room to tell you first. 

                          You’re my best friend, Shay.

Leslie Shay: Next time…

Kelly Severide: Hey... 

Leslie & Kelly: [laughs] 

Kelly Severide: No next time, I swear.

Leslie Shay: I’m glad you’re getting yourself healthy, even if it

                     means I have to let you go.

Kelly Severide: No one’s letting go.

Leslie Shay: Come on, let’s go in. I’m cold.

Kelly Severide: All right, yeah.

Leslie Shay: [chuckles] Hey, you know, tasers are totally against the

                     rules.

Kelly Severide: I know that. It’s page one.

                                                [door opens]

Leslie Shay: All you [chuckles]

All: Surprise!

                                        [cheers and applause]

Kelly Severide: You…

                           Hey. 

Renee Royce: Hi.

                                              [kissing sound]

Capp: I’m not sure what we’re gonna do without you.

Kelly Severide: [exhales] Cheers.

                                  [background chatter & laughter]

Clarice: Hey. Look, I…I promise you that I understand, you know,

               this is just an opportunity for us to be roommates.

               Nothing more…

                                            [kissing sounds]

Clarice: What was that?

Leslie Shay: I love you. I’ve always loved you.

Clarice: I love you too.

                                            [kissing sounds]

Gabby Dawson: Mm. You sure you wanna do this, Peter Mills?

Peter Mills: I’ve been waiting all day, baby.

Gabby Dawson: Wanna sneak out of here?

Peter Mills: Your place, ten minutes?

Gabby Dawson: You’re on. 

Peter Mills: Mm…

                                               [laughter]

Firefighters: Kick flips?

                      No, you.

                      No, you.

                                                [laughter]

Otis Zvonecek: I’m telling you, guys, it wasn’t that bad.

                                       [audio muffled, fading]

Renee Royce: Sorry, have… have you seen Kelly?

Matt Casey: Yeah, he’s over there.  

                      Or, was…

Renee Royce: Oh.

                                             [engine turns off]

                                             [distant laughter]

Man 9 (Benny Severide): So it’s 15 degrees, and there was this

                                           homeless guy that used to hang

                                           around in the alley behind the house.

                                           And we find him, and he is frozen

                                           solid. I mean, he’s a block of ice. So

                                           I call the morgue and I say, “Listen.

                                           We got a frozen dead guy, and you

                                           gotta come and pick him up.” And

                                           they say, “Well, he can’t just be

                                           dead. He’s gotta be warm and dead

                                           before we’ll come and get him.” So

                                           we dragged the homeless guy

                                           across the apparatus floor, and we

                                           wait for him to thaw out, for about

                                           ten hours. Anyway, eventually he

                                           got warm enough and dead  

                                           enough to actually be dead, so they  

                                           came and got him.

                                                 [chuckles]

Kelly Severide: You still telling that one?

Man 9 (Benny Severide): Well, I’ll be damned. 

Kelly Severide: Guys. Hey.

Man 10: How you doing?

Kelly Severide: Dad.

Man 9 (Benny Severide): You want something to eat? 

Kelly Severide: Oh, nah. I’m good, thanks.

                           Uh… [deep breath] I’m leaving the CFD.

Man 9 (Benny Severide): What happens when you and this Renee

                                          get tired of each other, and you find

                                          yourself in some godforsaken country

                                          with nothing to show for it but a

                                          pension? 

Kelly Severide: I don’t know. This doesn’t look so bad.

Man 9 (Benny Severide): Trust me. You’re worried about partial

                                           paralysis? How about full paralysis?

                                           ‘Cause that’s what this is [exhales]

                                           There’s no replacing Rescue Squad… but

                                            you already know that. That’s why you

                                            came out here, so I could talk you out of 

                                            going.

                                            Look, I know I wasn’t there for you like I

                                             could’ve been or should’ve been, and

                                             I’m… three wives removed from your

                                             mother and I-I-I’m in no position to give

                                             you advice. But you’re scared, Kelly.

                                             And you know why you’re scared?

                                             ‘Cause you’re not ready for this. Man 10: Benny, you ready?

Kelly Severide: She’s counting on me. I promised her.

Man 9 (Benny Severide): She’ll get over it.

                                           Disappoint anyone. Hell, disappoint

                                           everyone, but don’t ever disappoint

                                           yourself. 

                                           It’s good to see you.

Kelly Severide: You too, pop.

                           [exhales]

                                             [background chatter]

                                                  [distant siren]

                                                      cutscene

Kelly Severide: Hey. 

Renee Royce: What’s going on?

                                                [car door closes]

Kelly Severide: I’m uh… I’m gonna get the surgery. 

Renee Royce: Oh, Kelly, come on. It’s… it’s just not worth the risk.

                         I mean, we’ll do it right. You’ll come with me. You’ll

                         recuperate in Mad…

                         You wanna stay.

                         I should’ve known [chuckles]

                         I was that close to not even telling you. And you

                         would’ve come with me to Madrid. And… the sky

                         would’ve been the limit for us.

Kelly Severide: Hey, hey. What you did might be the most important

                          thing anyone’s ever done for me. 

                          Thank you.

Renee Royce: Well, uh… I guess now we’re even.

Kelly Severide: Yeah. We’re even. 

                                             [kissing sounds]

                                             [car door shuts]

                                                   cutscene

                                              [knocks at door]

Chief Boden: Shonda.

Lady 2 (Shonda): Wallace.

Chief Boden: Can I please see Jimmy?

Lady 2 (Shonda): No. He’s not your son.

Chief Boden: The hell he ain’t. I raised him from the time he was

                        three. Never used the word stepson. Not once.

                        I need to see him.

                                                  [dog barks]

Chief Boden: Hey Ralphie. How are you? I miss you, boy.

Kid 2 (Jimmy): Dad.

                         [murmurs emotionally]

                                                   cutscene

                                               [taps on glass]

Doctor: You ready?

Kelly Severide: Yeah. I’m ready.

                                                    - end -

Definitions:

Orthopedics = Is the branch of surgery concerned with conditions involving the musculoskeletal system – the bones, joints, ligaments, tendons, and muscles.

Propane = Propane is a form of LPG (Liquefied Petroleum Gas). Propane is a gas but can be liquefied and stored in a propane gas tank. It is commonly used as a fuel in domestic and industrial applications and in low-emissions public transportation.

Abuela = “Grandmother” in Spanish.

HMO = A Health Maintenance Organisation (HMO) gives access to certain doctors and hospitals within its network. A network is made up of providers that have agreed to lower their rates for plan members and also meet quality standards. Care under a HMO plan is covered only if you see a provider within that HMO’s networks.

APB = All-points bulletin (APB) is a general bulletin broadcast to alert law-enforcement officers over a wide area that someone (e.g. a suspect) or something (e.g. a vehicle) is being actively sought in connection with a crime.

Bugles = Orders are given to the troops by officers, through the use of a large brass device that resembles a megaphone. These were very ornate brass horns. They were commonly called “bugles”.

#Chicago Fire #Chicago fire department #chicago fire imagine #chicago fire script #chihard #chihards #Kelly Severide #taylor kinney #chief boden #wallace boden #eamonn walker #Christopher Herrmann #david eigenberg #matt casey #jesse spencer #joe cruz #joe minoso #gabby dawson #Monica Raymund #Leslie Shay #Lauren German #otis zvonecek #brian zvonecek #Yuri Sardarov #mouch #christian stolte #peter mills #Charlie Barnett #pouch #truck 81

[ajay-benitez]

Friday Night Blues || Dylan + Adrien

@dylan-meir​:

ajay-bennett​:

[Most people mistake Adrien for a social creature; himself included. For the most part, he enjoys company when he has it, he’s easy going when it comes to meeting new people, and he’s pretty outgoing. 

That said, he spends an inordinate amount of his personal time on his own. For a while there, he’d sort of convinced himself it had something to do with the klepto thing. A nifty side effect of being a Bad Boy. But that was definitely a lie to make himself feel cool and suave and debonaire (although not really), because it was definitely a lot more to do with the Being-Trans Thing and the Social and General Anxiety thing. T-to-the-fuckin-M. 

Anyway, he doesn’t mind his time alone or anything. Half the time he doesn’t even notice. It’s just, when he thinks about it, he supposes it’s a little weird. He’s like a… lone wolf. He wanders the Colony on his own until someone crosses his path (accidentally or accidentally on purpose), for him to bother (he’s not an evil wolf, just an irritating, marginally lonely one). But he wouldn’t say he seeks company. Just… stumbles across it from time to time and enjoys it. He could look a little deeper into why he still hasn’t made any deep, lasting connections at the Colony, or even in his life, especially post D-Day but he…. won’t. Maybe Dr. C will force him to at some point but that’s… Future Ajay’s problem. 

He’s solo-wandering again this evening (let’s call it Han Solo Wandering because that’s automatically cooler, right?) and he’s definitely drawn towards the kitchen at the smell of baking bread. Ugh. UgghhHhHhhhh. Nothing like the smell of fresh bread. And they smell it so rarely these days. Not that it’s even hard to make fresh bread. It’s one of the basics. The Prairie People had bread, they ground their own wheat for fuck’s sakes so, they could totally have fresh bread now at the Colony every day if they were so inspired—as long as no one goes and fucking contaminates hundreds of pounds of flour again, mind you. 

But they eat a lot of canned stuff these days, and frozen stuff, and whatever meat they bring in from the hunting trips (which have seemed painfully sparse lately). He figures the lack of fresh bread thing is honestly just plain laziness. The fuckers. (Though, has he done anything to change that personally? Of course not. He’s a lazy fucker, too.) 

He doesn’t know what he’s expecting to see or find, but he’d definitely not been expecting just one, pouty looking girl and an offer to join her. He’d figured some sort of stealing or abuse of his power would have to be involved. But this is much simpler.

He grins, stepping forward, stomach already rumbling.] Um, does a bear shit in the woods?? [He pauses, winces a little.] Sorry, horrible Dad Joke I got from my father. I never even laughed but he said it so many times it’s like, stuck in there like a fucking sliver, [he intones, gesturing loudly at his head.]

[He approaches the counter she’s standing at, flopping into one of the stools.] So what inspired this? If you’re offering it to me, some nosey rando, I’m assuming it wasn’t a special occasion? I’m Adrien, by the way. But you can call me Ajay, if you want. Most people do. 

___

[One of the reasons Dylan has always loved Friday nights and, in close relation, challah was their ability to bring people together. When she was little, playing out in the fields with her cousins, the smell of challah against the setting sun would always bring them running back inside. When she was on the road, on a drive with her aunts and uncles or, after D-day, running supplies between colonies, she’d bring a chunk with her. Even stale and without any of the usual trappings, it tasted like home.]

[The man in the doorway sounds like home, too. Not in any identifiable way- he couldn’t be less Australian, and he doesn’t sound like any of her relatives. But the way he answers so automatically, with that cheesy joke all father-figures are almost legally required to make. It’s such a familiar song and dance, Dylan knows it by heart. ‘What time is it? Time for you to get a watch.’ ‘I’m hungry. Hi Hungry, I’m Uncle Henry.’ His answer, and her own memories, are enough to make her smile with all the warmth of the steaming bread.] I know exactly what you mean. And most people call me Dylan. It’s short for Dylan.

It’s kind of a special occasion. Shabbat. It’s been a while, but since the holidays are coming up… but we used to do this every week, and my aunt would drag in anyone who happened to be at the house, so I think it’d be worse if I didn’t offer you any. Besides, do you really need an excuse for fresh bread?

☀

[It takes him a beat to realize he hadn’t misheard her—she’d just made a very quick and dry joke. The kind that’s not really a joke as it doesn’t have a punch line, so much as it is a quippy and wry remark, playful but subtle. Ah, good. He likes a gal with a sense of humour. And an affinity for baking and sharing those baked goods. 

He shifts her an amused look and a grin.] Cool. Alright then, Dylan. A comedian too, I see. [He smirks, but his mouth waters as the smell of the bread wafts even closer, and his stomach actually growls. Oh hell yes, this is gonna be good.] But no, you’re right, definitely need zero excuses for fresh bread. Bring on the good stuff. I could stuff my face with fresh bread all day. In fact, throw me a beret and call Jean-Pierre, because I could live off this shit. [He’s clearly not a comedian, but in his defence, her ‘not-joke’ hadn’t been that funny either. But the point of ‘not-jokes’ are to be a smart ass, not to be funny. At least, in his books, that’s the case.] 

What holidays are in March? Or is that what you mean by Shabbat? Forgive me my ignorance, but I’m not exactly up to speed on religious holidays. At least not outside the commercialized ones with the Hallmark overlords, [he adds with a grin.] 

#'the man in the doorway sounds like home too' #WELP that made me EMO #im defs assuming she means passover but ajay doesn't know that lol #or shabbat in general of course #dylan #dylan: friday night blues #reposting for threadtracker!

[oldsilverblood5]

Strange

Part 2 to Isolation

Paulina mumbled angrily to herself as she walked down the hall. Finally, she could go to lunch. She couldn’t believe she had to waste half of her lunch period on some stupid computer error. At least the assignment was in now and she wouldn’t have to worry about it again.

As she walked through the halls, the unmistakeable sounds of hitching breath and crying teen reached her ears. Though Paulina wouldn’t have minded some gossip, she really just wanted to go to lunch and not deal with some crying loser. But she grimaced as she realised the sounds were coming from the hall she needed to walk through to get to the cafeteria.

Hoping that she could just pass by without being noticed, Paulina slowly turned the corner, but froze once she realised who it was.

It was the Fenton boy. The one with the crazy parents that ran around in garish jumpsuits claiming to be hunting ghosts. She didn’t know his first name, only knowing ‘Fenton’ from the family and the obscene nicknames Dash always came up with.

Paulina didn’t know him personally, nor did she know him well, but she did know that he had two friends. There was the tech nerd who was always naming his tech, she knew even less about him than she did Fenton, but she knew the other one well.

Sam Manson, the goth freak that was always making out like she was better than Paulina. Unfortunately, their parents were friends, and that meant the two were forced to spend time together whenever their parents met up. They generally maintained their distance at school though, and no one knew they knew each other outside of school. She was pretty sure even her friends didn’t know. Which was fine by Paulina, and she had no intentions of changing that.

But she did know how close the three were, and it confused her that they weren’t here to comfort their distressed friend. Maybe they got into a fight? But with her impression of their friendship, she didn’t think it would be so bad to get to this point. Honestly, he was crying like the world was ending or something.

Her curiosity got the best of her, and after looking around to make sure there was no one here to see her talking to this loser, she called out to him.

“Fenton?”

Her voice surprised him apparently, because his head shot up and he immediately locked eyes with her. Whatever expression she expected him to have on his face, it was not the mixture of shock and hope she found.

“P-Paulina?” Okay, this is creepy. She’d had people look at her with reverence before, but Fenton looked like he was afraid she’d disappear.

“Yeah?” Seriously, the almost crazed look was freaking her out. “What the hell’s up with you? Why are you acting so weird?”

That seemed to make him realise what he was doing as he winced and drew back into himself, though his eyes kept flicking back to her. “Sorry… You… You know who I am?” He sounded pathetically hopeful, and she focused on that rather than the desperation that came off him.

“Don’t act like it makes you special or anything.” She said, rolling her eyes, “People only know you ‘cause you’re a Fenton. You’re still a loser.”

For some reason, that made him chuckle. It sounded off, but it was still there. “I’ll take it.” He whispered.

Paulina frowned at him. There was something strange going on. “Where are your friends.”

He curled in on himself and looked like he was about to cry again. She was just starting to think it was a fight when he spoke again, “They don’t know who I am.”

“What?” She asked, disbelieving. She must have misheard because that didn’t make any sense.

“They can’t remember me. I thought they were just mad ‘cause of what I said yesterday, but they really don’t. They don’t know who I am.”

Paulina stared at the boy as he started crying again. This didn’t make any sense. How could close friends just forget each other? Things didn’t work that way.

“That makes no sense at all, Fenton. People don’t just forget somebody. It’s probably just some dumb misunderstanding.” Though even as she said it, there was some part of her that couldn’t believe it. How could you misunderstand somebody that badly? And the way he reacted when she said his name still put her on edge. It’s like he was glad anyone knew who he was.

“Believe me, if that were the case I wouldn’t complain. I’ve never wanted to be an idiot more in my life.” He chuckled wetly. “But they were serious.”

Paulina growled in frustration as she dug through her bag. She wanted to get away from this enigma, but she also wanted to make sense of it all. She threw him a small packet of tissues she kept as an emergency. “There. Your face is a mess.”

He looked between them and her like he couldn’t believe she would do such a thing. “Thank you.” He said quietly as he opened it.

“I’m going to lunch now.” Paulina ignored the brief look of panic on his face before he reigned it in. She could tell he didn’t want to be alone, but she couldn’t stand to be here any longer. “I’m talking to your friends later to get to the bottom of this.” She said before she could stop herself. Sure, she wanted answers, but that didn’t mean letting Fenton know about it.

“You-you are!?” He gave her a look of pure shock.

Paulina crossed her arms with a huff. “I don’t like it when I don’t know things. And I don’t understand this at all.”

“…Thank you.” Paulina blinked, surprised at the words. Fenton was giving her a small grateful smile.

“I’m not doing it for you.” She narrowed her eyes.

His smile dimmed a little. He looked so fragile and it was starting to annoy her. “I know. But, thank you.”

She didn’t know how to react to that, so instead she asked him a question. “What’s your name?”

Fenton blinked at her, confused. “What?”

Paulina rolled her eyes, “Your name, loser. I only know your last one.”

“Oh, uh…” He looked surprised, and she supposed she didn’t blame him. It’s not like she’d asked before. “It’s Danny.”

With that, she nodded and walked away. He didn’t call out to her and she didn’t look back. She went straight to the cafeteria to enjoy what was left of her lunch period.

As she walked over to her table, Paulina’s eyes scanned the room, easily finding the two she was looking for. They were sitting in a back corner, alone, and didn’t seem concerned at all by their missing friend. She wanted to ask her friends if she’d missed anything between the trio but didn’t want to seem interested if there was nothing to say. There was no reason to worry though, as Star quickly brought it up anyway.

“Did anyone else notice what happened with Fenton earlier?”

Dash rolled his eyes and looked like he was going to say something along the lines of, ‘who cares’, but Paulina stepped in before he could.

“No. What was it?” She maintained an air of bored curiosity, not letting anyone know she was actually interested. She didn’t want anyone to know about her conversation with Fenton until she got the rest of the story.

“I only caught the last bit of it, but his friends looked like they were about to attack him. Then he got this real sad look on his face and just stared at them for a while. He ran off not long after that.”

Paulina shrugged, “Probably got into an argument or something. Did you hear what they were talking about?”

Star waved a dismissive hand in her direction, “Nah, I wasn’t close enough.”

Paulina hummed, and moved the conversation onto something else before they could get suspicious. It didn’t really do much to answer her suspicions, which meant she still had to talk to the two losers.

Her chance didn’t come until the change over to the second period after lunch. She cornered them at Sam’s locker and since she had to change her books, they had little choice but to listen to her.

“So, I hear you two developed sudden amnesia.” Sam’s annoyance and the nerd’s wariness turned to confusion at the one statement. “What? Did you forget who I am too?” She asked condescendingly.

And the annoyance was back. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about the rumour that you two are such lousy friends you’d pretend your own friend doesn’t even exist.” There was no such rumour, but she hoped getting a rise out of Sam would get her the truth and she didn’t want anyone to know she’d talked to Fenton. He’d probably tell them anyway, once this whole thing blows over, but she wasn’t going to be the one to admit it.

“Again, what are you talking about? That’s sounds like something you’d do, not us.”

“Oh, so whole thing with Danny was a misunderstanding?” She asked sardonically, not even hiding her glee at the word choice. She was going to hold this over the goth for a very long time.

“Who?”

The question shocked Paulina, though she tried not to let it show. Even though Fenton had seemed certain he’d been forgotten, Paulina hadn’t fully believed it.

“Wait. Is this about that guy who came up to us before?” Paulina could say what she wanted to about nerds, at least they were smart.

“Black hair, blue eyes, hideous red and white T-Shirt?” Paulina asked nonchalantly, even as a strange fear began to rise in her chest.

The glare Sam gave her for the barb was nowhere near as venomous as it should be for insulting her friend. “Yeah, that’s him. What do you know him or something?”

She stared. It was all she could do. ‘They really did forget him.’ Paulina couldn’t believe this. Everything Fenton said was true. His friends had completely forgotten who he was.

Sam must have had enough of the silence because she scoffed. “We don’t have time for this. Come on, Tuck.”

“Danny Fenton.” Paulina said before they could get away. They paused and looked at her with confusion. “Your best friend. The three of you have been inseparable for years.” She reminded, hoping to jog their memories. This was really starting to freak her out and she had to wonder if she’d stepped into an alternate universe or something because none of this made any sense.

“He’s a Fenton?” Sam asked, but beyond her confusion she gave no indication that the other statements meant anything to her.

“That would actually explain it.” The tech geek said thoughtfully, he frowned as she and Sam looked at him for clarification. “If he’s anything like his parents, the crazy is probably genetic or something. It would explain why he thought we were friends, and the little freak out he had.”

Sam nodded thoughtfully, easily agreeing to the statement to Paulina’s disbelief. If there were any doubt in her mind about this whole thing, any thought that maybe these losers were just trying to mess with her, it went out the window at the geek’s statement. Whenever someone bullied Fenton for his parents, these two stood by and defended him. Because of their friendship, they knew all the Fentons, and would not tolerate anything negative said about them. Sometimes, they were even more defensive of them than their own son was.

Her thoughts were put to a halt when Sam gave her a condescending look of pity. “And let me guess, you believed whatever sob story he spun you.” She scoffed, but Paulina gave no reaction, “You need to stop believing everything you hear Paulina.”

And she walked away, dragging the tech geek with her. Paulina still hadn’t moved, too much in shock to. If anyone noticed her standing frozen by the lockers and not going anywhere, they didn’t say anything to snap her out of it or warn her she’d be late to class. She was left to sort through all the confusing information she’d gathered as the halls emptied until there was no one but her.

Her and Danny that is.

The sniffling brought her out of it, making her look up and catch his eye. His presence, and the fact that he was, once again, crying were all she needed to know that he had been listening in. Having his friends forget he existed must have been painful enough for him, but hearing them say he and his family were crazy would just hurt even more.

Paulina made no move to comfort him. They weren’t close and she was still confused as to how this could happen in the first place. She had no idea what to do. She didn’t know if she even should do something. It wasn’t her responsibility, she only wanted to get to the bottom of whatever was going on. She now knew that they’d truly forgotten him. That was the truth and she got it. Did she really want to go further? Did she want to find out the why and the how? Was this really something she wanted to get into?

She didn’t have to. They weren’t her friends. Danny wasn’t her friend.  She could walk away now and forget this ever happened.

But could she?

What if this wasn’t a one-time thing? What if other people started forgetting things? And would her curiosity really let this lie?

“Paulina?”

She looked at Danny, teary eyed and giving her a look of cautious hope.

Could she really let him go through this on his own?

Paulina sighed. She didn’t want to help a loser with anything, but this was serious, not only for him but for everyone. They needed to figure this out. Whatever strange and unexplainable thing happened to his friends could happen again, and right now they were the only ones that knew about it.

She didn’t like it, but she couldn’t do nothing.

Paulina pulled out a pen from her bag and ripped out a piece of paper, writing her address on it. “Here.” She thrust it towards Fenton who jumped and took it cautiously. “Come to my place after school so we can try to figure this whole mess out. And don’t tell anyone I’m doing this, got it?”

Danny’s mouth hung open as he stared at the paper, not quite believing it was real. He looked at her, with eyes so full of hope she squirmed. “You-you’re going to h-help me?”

“You’re still a loser, don’t forget that.” She snapped, “But if something is making people forget things, we need to know about it.”

She didn’t look at him, and he didn’t say anything for a few long moments. Eventually, he shifted to put the paper in his pocket.

“Thank you, Paulina. I’ll see you after school.”

She nodded, “We should get to class now.” She avoided his grateful smile as they climbed to the next floor together.

Paulina hoped she’d made the right decision.

#continuation of isolation #dannymay 2020 #dannymay day 26 #dannymay strange #Danny Phantom #danny fenton #paulina sanchez #sam manson #tucker foley #2500+ words #expect more later because I love this #fanfiction

[thewoodlandqueen]

The Pevensies After Narnia

Summary: Returning home from Narnia was more difficult than any of the Pevensies could have ever imagined. 

Words: 2,236

A/N: Based off this post of mine

“You wouldn’t believe us if I told you, sir.” Peter said looking up at the Professor with a small smile.

The Professor smiled in return and tossed the ball back to Peter. “Try me.”

So they did. The Pevensies told the Professor about all of their adventures in Narnia and in return the Professor told them of his. That first week back from Narnia was a joyous time. Sharing stories with the Professor, having hot running water again, eating their favorite foods, listening to the radio, and using lights. The modern pleasures they had since forgotten were discovered for what felt like the first time all over again.

It wasn’t until a week later that Peter uttered the words no one dared to speak. “What about our people?” Lucy’s face fell and Edmund went still.

“They’re well taken care of.” Susan said smoothing her skirt and looking over at her older brother. “Mr. Tumnus, Oreius, and the Beavers are more than capable.”

“We never got to say goodbye.” Lucy said, her big blue eyes glossing over with tears.

“We didn’t even want to leave.” Edmund said, his voice back to a squeaky high-pitched child’s voice.

“Come now.” Susan said looking around at her sad siblings. “We should all be happy to be back. Besides the fact that we had our adventure at all is what matters.” She nodded satisfied with her answer.

Then so began Susan’s bitter quest to forget Narnia and accept the fact that she was back home. Out of all of the Pevensie children, Susan had the least difficult time adjusting to life back in England. She often scolded Peter for wanting to go back and said that he was a bad influence for Edmund and Lucy. Logically, to Susan, burying herself in a good book could be as great an adventure as her time in Narnia.

Peter on the other hand disagreed. He wanted nothing more than to return back to Narnia as High King. It wasn’t because he missed the power and attention, but because he missed helping people. Ever since he was little Peter had plans of being a Doctor because he wanted to help others. As High King of Narnia his guidance and wisdom stretched out over oceans. Now that he was back home as Peter Pevensie from Finchley, the most good he could do was keep up his studies and watch over his younger siblings.

Edmund missed Narnia just as much as Peter did, but he kept it more to himself. Chess comforted him since he spent many hours in Narnia poured over a board with Oreius. His voice was no longer deep and steady, and his sharp jawline was lost and in its place a smooth pudgy chin. Being a child again reminded him of how awful he used to be. It was this childlike form that he fought with Peter, teased Lucy, and so selfishly sold out his family to the White Witch.

Lucy was the only Pevensie who dared to try and reenter the Wardrobe. Many times she pulled open the wooden door and stepped inside in hopes of feeling the hot summer breeze rustle through her hair. She spent a lot of time with the Professor telling stories and begging to hear more of his. Her hope of returning was what kept her in high spirits. Though there were times when she would burst out in a fit of anger. She was a warrior, a queen, and not being able to reach the top cupboard for a teacup was beyond frustrating. It was times like these when Peter would step in and without a word grabbed the teacup and handed it to her with a smile.

In fact the whole family dynamic changed. Peter and Edmund had never been closer. They spent lots of time together playing chess or in the library and never fought once. Lucy relied heavily on her older brothers for protection and support. When she wasn’t tall enough, not strong enough, or considered too little to have input they stepped in on her behalf. Susan pulled away from the other three and preferred to pick up her life where she left off and remember Narnia as beautiful memories. It wasn’t that Susan didn’t love Narnia; she just felt the best way to move forward was to focus on the present. Someone in the family had to.

What the Pevensie’s weren’t prepared for is how their life experience would affect their interactions with others. Mrs. Mcready in particular. What had been fifteen years for them had only been about fifteen minutes for her. For the life of that poor woman she couldn’t figure out the sudden change in the children and why their behavior was so strange all of a sudden.

The first noticeable incident was when she scolded them for breaking the Professors window. “You children need to learn some respect for this house. The stain glass is priceless and now, a gaping hole in it and a dismantled suit of armor. What do you have to say for yourselves?”

Edmund was the first to step forward, the diplomat in him ever prevalent. “We’re sorry, it was only an accident. I suppose I should avoid playing cricket for a while.”

Peter not wanting Edmund to share in the fault alone spoke next. “It was my fault really, I pitched that nasty curve ball.”

Mrs. Mcready didn’t know what to say. This was the last thing she expected to hear. “Well then, see that it doesn’t happen again.” She nodded before walking off awkwardly.

A few days later a dear friend of the Professor stopped by. “Children!” She called upstairs. “Come say hello to our guest.” It only took a moment for all the children to materialize and come to greet the mystery guest. “This is the Professor’s friend Ms. Plummer. Say hello now.”

The four Pevensies all bowed to the visitor before exchanging an awkward look. “Lovely to meet you.” Lucy nodded at the silver haired woman.

“My, what polite children the Professor is housing.” Mrs. Plummer smiled.

Mrs. Mcready didn’t say anything, she was too alarmed at Lucy’s adult pleasantries. Perhaps it was just a fluke, or she had misheard her. It wasn’t until dinner a few days later when Lucy asked for the salt that it was confirmed that Lucy was talking ever so strangely.

“Mrs. Mcready would you be so kind as to pass me the salt?” Lucy said taking a sip of her pomegranate juice.

“My dear child where on earth did you learn to talk like that?” Mrs. Mcready said grabbing the saltshaker and passing it to Susan who in turn set it in front of Lucy. Lucy hadn’t spoken like this when she first arrived.

Lucy looked up from her drink startled. “Uh…I don’t know…” She said looking to her siblings in a panic.

“Lucy and I have been practicing etiquette for school.” Susan spoke up. “We’ve never been to a private school before and we want to make a good impression.” Mrs. Mcready nodded but still wasn’t convinced.

Dinners actually became a great source of confusion for Mrs. Mcready. The Professor started having dinner with the Pevensie children which was odd in its own since he had earlier proclaimed that he never wanted to be disturbed by the children. Now dinner was lively and full of a bunch of rubbish.

“Tell me again where the Beavers lived.” The Professor said raising his glass to the children.

“Oh they had the cutest little dam!” Lucy exclaimed.

“You could see the White Witch’s palace from it.” Edmund added.

“I still can’t believe you had the misfortune of going head to head with her.” The Professor shook his head. “She was something else even in the short time I knew her.”

“You have no idea.” Peter shook his head.

“Children!” Mrs. Mcready scolded. “Don’t encourage him.” She said hinting that the Professor may have been going crazy, which she surly believed.

The rest of that summer was rather strange. The children all grew very fond of quite obscure activities and under the Professor’s orders, Mrs. Mcready was supposed to see to it that they had a chance to participate.

“Mrs. Mcready?” Edmund asked one day while she was organizing books in the library.

“Hmmm?” She responded glancing over her shoulder.

“Might I take a trip down to the stables?” Edmund asked fiddling with his fingers nervously.

“The stables?” Mrs. Mcready asked setting down the books she was sorting and placing her hands on her hips. “Whatever for?”

“I wanted to see the horses.” Edmund said shyly. There was no easy way to tell anyone that he desperately missed his animal companion, Phillip. “I like them.”

Mrs. Mcready didn’t know what to say. Normally uncharacteristic of Edmund but with how strange all the children had been acting, this wasn’t that strange. “Alright then off you go.”

Edmund’s face lit up and he put down the book he was reading before dashing out the door. He spent many hours in the stables in the coming weeks before school started. He’d smile, pet the horses, and speak softly to them as he dreamed of riding his own horse into a mighty battle.

Edmund wasn’t the only one missing his Narnian opportunities. Susan actually missed having her bow. So when she asked Mrs. Mcready if they had one for her to use along with a target, they materialized a day later. Susan found comfort in the feeling of her bow releasing the arrow and sinking in deeply to the target. It grounded her, and when she was missing Narnia a little extra, it was an easy activity to lose herself in.

When the school year started things became even more difficult for the Pevensies. Susan and Lucy were to be sent to a different school than Peter and Edmund. So in other words, the first time the family was to be separated since their fifteen years in Narnia. The other thing was that all of the children felt as though they didn’t need school. In Narnia the children continued their studies in Narnian history, combat, battle strategies, agriculture, and an endless list of other incredibly useful subjects. So school seemed silly. Lucy hated it the most.

When she was at school, she felt so small. There were girls taller than her and stronger than her who made it known. The gossip bored Lucy because she was years in wisdom beyond her age and whose hair looked funny didn’t matter to her. She had been in battle, dined with Lords, made laws, and ruled an entire kingdom. The schoolyard was below Lucy and despite her protests, she was forced to be a child again even though she had known adulthood.

Susan didn’t struggle with this as much. She felt almost the same as before she went to Narnia. Susan had always been more mature for her age. She had to be. The war forced both her and Peter to grow up to take care of their younger siblings. At school she buried herself int books and her studies. To Susan, this was home and if she wanted to succeed, she needed to accept that.

Edmund, like Susan, accepted the fact that he was a kid again but, like Peter he missed Narnia dearly. He missed his horse. He missed his deep commanding voice settling disputes. He missed his life. Like the rest of his siblings he excelled in his studies and impressed all of his teachers. Somehow, just like Peter had taken care of Edmund, Edmund ended up taking care of Peter. The eldest Pevensie found himself in all sorts of disputes and comprisable situations.

Peter took it the hardest. He was High King. He felt like he abandoned his people and lost himself. This only got worse the longer the schoolyear went on. The first noticeable correction that needed to be made was Peter’s signature. After being handed an academic conduct contract to be signed Peter absent-mindedly began signing High King Peter. He had to stop himself short and in frustration tore the paper to shreds before asking for a new one. There would be nights when he would stand in front of the mirror and wonder who he had become. He missed his broad shoulders and sharp jawline. He grew angry, irritable, and frustrated. He missed his life.

All of the Pevensie children had been deeply changed by their time in Narnia.

By the time the school year was over and they returned back to the Professor for summer, something dark had taken root in all of them. Lucy regressed back to the little girl she had been before she had discovered Narnia. Edmund’s sass slowly crept back into his every conversation. Susan never spoke of Narnia but to scold her siblings for wishing their life away. Then there was Peter who was no longer a lost king, but a troubled teenage boy who got into fights and was labeled disobedient. The school year had worn them down and after being treated like a child again, that is what they all became.

That is until that faithful day at the train station next school year something magical happened. Then every happy feeling the Pevensies had locked away came flooding back and the past year of torture was left behind on the beach of Cair Paravel. They were home again.

#narnia fanfiction #narnia #the chronicles of narnia #the chronicles of narnia fanfiction #peter pevensie #susan pevensie #edmund pevensie #the chronicles of narnia fan fiction #narnia fanfic #lucy pevensie #narnia fan fiction

[jackjots]

#22 Silence

Wayward Guide for the Untrained Eye 30 Day Prompt

(This takes place after Episode 10)

Day #22 @30daysofwayward

(I do not own any other characters or place names outside of Shelby St. Ranger, this is just for fun)

TW: Blood, alcohol consumption. 

I took a shower and washed my blood and dirt covered clothes in the shower. I watched the dark red water go down the drain and I wondered how much was mine and how much was Trumans. I looked at my veins in my arm. How much was mine, and how much was Trumans?

After I got out of the shower, I wiped off the foggy mirror and looked at my face. I had a nice red scratch on my face, next to the puffy remnants of my broken nose. The scratch on my neck was almost totally gone, but I’d replaced the necklace about my neck, and it was starting to leave a red mark. I lifted it and touched the line. It was hot. I took the necklace off and carefully placed it back in my bag. The sting on my palms after I handled the necklace was probably in my head, I decided. I snuck back to my room in a towel holding my wet and reasonably cleaner clothes. I hung everything to dry and laid back onto the bed in my towel, not even bothering to go under the blanket. 

My body was tired, my head buzzed in the silence, and I didn’t even shut the light off before unconsciousness took over. 

I was sitting at my computer in my living room. The moon was shining through the window, larger than I was used to seeing it. I started writing, but the letters were turning up all wrong on the screen. I looked down at my hands, which were paws. 

I ran to the bathroom to see my face, but instead of mine, the hallway was the one at the Dead Canary. I went into that bathroom, but it was the kitchen. Quinn was yelling at me that I wasn’t allowed to eat meat. But all I wanted was meat. I opened the fridge but it was filled with river rocks. I slammed the fridge door and turned around to Desmond in full wolf form. “One of us.” He said in the low vibrating voice he had as a wolf. 

“Am I?” I tried to ask, but my mouth was clumsily filled with hard and sharp objects. I realized with horror that it was teeth.  

“One of us!” He yelled and I fell backward through the floor until I was laying on the ground in the woods. I heard something and turned. It was me, standing in the moonlight. I looked peaceful with my eyes closed, no scratches or broken noses in sight. When I opened my eyes and met my own stare, the other me screamed. I tried to scream, too, but a howl ripped through my chest.

I woke up covered in sweat. Although the sun was up, when I checked the clock I’d only slept a few hours. I felt dizzy, itchy, and ravenous. I slipped on damp clothes as I knew the kitchen would open soon. The cold damp actually seemed to help calm down the burning itch that was now crawling it’s way over my body. I only had to wiggle a little bit to shift the cold clothes around and calm the itch for a bit. 

I went to the bathroom and remembered my dream as I did so. I caught my reflection in the mirror and gasped. It wasn’t the wolf face I was suddenly afraid I’d seen, but actually the opposite. I looked more like myself than I had in a few days. The swelling had gone way down on my face, and the scratch was merely a mark now. This wouldn’t be easy to explain away, I thought as a knot formed in my stomach.

Why was I so worried about, essentially, coming out as a werewolf? Or possibly one. I wasn’t sure if just the little I was wounded was enough. I wouldn’t know, if I didn’t tell anyone. I considered telling Desmond, but I felt like I missed my window on telling him and now it just felt like admitting I’d lied, which was more intimidating than saying “hey I might be a werewolf”. 

My damp-pants-covered bottom slid into my usual booth. The food I ordered came out with less enthusiasm than I was used to. “Those podcast people are leaving today.” Quinn mentioned. I wasn’t sure if he was filling me in or just announcing it to the empty bar. He seemed distracted, and the food was a little less exciting than usual. I’d never had steak and eggs in my life, but it sounded so good. He had tried to fight me a little bit, but quickly let go of the vegetarian idea. “Sounds like they solved it anyway.” He’d said. “No point anymore. You know it was LSD in the water system?” The way he said it told me he didn’t quite believe it. 

The excuse was almost laughable. But as I ate the too-cooked meat, I thought through what I knew of Connor Creek, and decided it would be good enough. Probably. 

After I ate I went back upstairs and laid in my slowly drying-to-my-body clothing. A nap felt just the ticket, and it did result in dryer clothes as I blearily reasserted my existence after a few blurs of a dream I couldn’t recall.

The sun was higher in the sky and it was almost lunch time now. Eat, sleep, eat, sleep. I realized I hadn’t written down any of the events rom the night before. I grabbed my notebook and looked at my last notes about what they were saying at town hall. Should I keep recording this? I shrugged. If I didn’t, who would? 

I wrote down everything else that happened, but I used slight code wording for myself so it wasn’t so obvious. Things like saying “WW” instead of werewolf. I even included getting scratched. I didn’t plan to keep the lie going that much longer. Probably. Yes, probably. 

When I went back down, I was surprised to see every werewolf I knew of, and a few people I didn’t know very well, whether they were werewolves are not, sitting at the bar. Helen nodded at me. Olivia was deep in conversation with Rita. Sybilus was talking to...Vern, that was his name, Vern the butcher. I recognized Ags who was standing as if she was about to leave with a hand on her hip talking to Desmond over the bar. I overheard her saying she was really looking forward to experimenting with psychedelics as soon as possible. 

I ordered lunch. I knew I had a lot of work to do on my novel to make up for my missed days, and I was starting to stress out about it when Desmond dropped a beer off at my table.

“I didn’t order a beer.” I said as I looked up at him.

He was holding torn pages. “I figured I owed you one. For messing up your book.”

I rubbed my face. “That makes sense.”

“Does it? I am sorry, I didn’t realize it was borrowed.” “The library.” I grumbled. I’d forgotten. 

“You can have the pages now, not sure how much good it will do ya.” He slid them over next to the beer. He seemed to be reading my irritation as toward him, when it was really at myself for forgetting about the book entirely. Not that I could have gone to the library anyway, with my car still in the shop. But regardless, I was irritated. 

  I could smell the exact food I was waiting for; each item gave a certain odor and my mouth filled with saliva. I almost snapped: “Is that my lunch over there?” And immediately followed by. “I’m sorry. I guess I’m just hungry.” 

“Seems like it.” But he didn’t seem upset. I was pretty sure I caught a smirk. It made me more irritated, this time at him. He retrieved it for me without another word.

I didn’t touch the beer until I was entirely down with my rare burger. I soaked the meat juice up with my french fries. I didn’t even use any ketchup. My appetite which usually left food to waste had me almost licking my plate clean. 

Ags left a little before I finished my lunch. She’d started talking to Sheriff Madison who came in for lunch. After Ags left I heard Sheriff Madison talking to Olivia about how the twins were gone now. 

I felt an odd little stab that I hadn’t said goodbye. But I also didn’t know them that well. 

And then Olivia said, “You know I heard their tires got slashed.”

“No, that was Shelby’s car.” Desmond interjected.

“Really?” Olivia wondered.

Sheriff Madison agreed. “Yeah. We actually kind of forgot about Paul and Artie’s car. It’s completely wild now.” 

“Well that’s odd. I swore I heard Truman,” There was a slight pause at the name, “Swore I could have heard her say something about their tires.” She laughed. “Maybe I misheard her.”

Suddenly things started to make more sense. I hardly drove into town until more recently, and if she’d seen a car she didn’t recognize, Truman could have mistaken me for Artemis and Paul. I didn’t know if she’d caused the accident, but the tires seemed entirely probable. I risked a look out at the bar and realized this conversation was happening through three other conversations on the other side of the bar. And Desmond was looking straight at me. I turned back to my empty plate. 

How had I heard that whole conversation? 

#oohwhatdoesthismean #30daysofwayward #waywardguidefortheuntrainedeye #tw blood #tw alcohol #shelby st ranger #tin can bros #werewolves

[writefasttalkevenfaster]

Peter Parker / Five Secrets

Summary: As Peter’s childhood best friend, you thought you knew everything about him. But, it turns out he’s keeping a few secrets from you. 

Word Count: 2,220

1. 

“Have you ever had a crush on anyone in this room?” Flash asks you, eyebrows raised provocatively, and nearly feels his stomach drop when he sees you nod. His throat was incredibly dry somehow, and he couldn’t stop himself from fidgeting, unable to meet your gaze. On the other hand, you were relaxed, legs crossed, sitting at the foot of MJ’s chair. You leaned back, against her legs, “Who is it?”

“I’m pretty sure it’s truth and dare, not two truths,” you scoffed, sipping at your drink, “Peter,” his head snapped up, “it’s your turn.” 

“Y-yeah, what do you wanna ask me?” you pondered it exaggeratedly, fingers brushing your chin, before you finally shrugged, lips curled in a grin. 

“Same question,” Peter felt his cheeks burn, clearing his throat, the prickly feeling of his classmates gazes only intensified by his sixth sense. 

“Yes?” and you raised a single eyebrow. 

“That an answer or a question, dickwad?” Flash scoffed, before mouthing an exaggerated apology to you. You gave a small nod, and shot Peter a look, mouthing what the hell. Peter only gave you a small smile, choosing to avoid your gaze for the rest of the game. Until he could go and scream about this with Ned. 

That was until the turn came around to Flash again. And again his attention was on you. It wasn’t a secret that Flash was actively pursuing you, only on the advice of his “fans” on his blog, who were just as ‘charming’ as Flash himself. 

“So, who did you have a crush on in this room?” you rolled your eyes. 

“You don’t have to answer, Y/N,” MJ said, glaring at Flash, “Unless you want to answer it first?” Flash opened his mouth to reply, but you only shrugged and answered: 

“Peter,” And he thought he had misheard. It couldn’t be. That wasn’t what he heard right? Mouth agape as he stared at you, he only realized it was true when he found Flash staring at him.

“You have a crush on dickwad?” 

“Past-tense, Flash,” you reminded him, and Peter’s heart sunk, “you said did. I used to have a crush on Peter when we were kids.” Peter scratched the back of his head, giving you a weak smile, before he excused himself from the game. He needed air. 

“Are you okay?” he hears your voice call for him, and he inwardly groans, Ned had to let you go after him, “Ned wanted to go after you, but I told him I would.” Were you psychic now too? “I hope that didn’t make things weird between us.” 

“Oh, no, no, no, we’re fine,” Peter did his best at a facade, “we’re fine.” 

“Your voice is high-pitched,” you pointed out, “usually means you’re lying.” 

He cleared his throat, trying to keep his voice level, “That’s not true.” You laughed, leaning on the railing of Flash’s balcony beside him, “Out of curiosity, why did you stop having a crush on me?” 

You smiled at him, and he swore he felt his brain nearly melt, “Who said I did?” He stared at you, leaning closer, when the two of you heard shouting (namely Flash), and the moment was broken, “we should get back.” 

He watched you leave. Yeah, he guessed they should. 

2. 

“MJ has a theory that you’re Spiderman,” Peter nearly spit out his drink, forcing himself to swallow only to spare himself the humiliation, as well as your clothes. You glanced up from your lunch, at him appraisingly, as he laughed, forced himself to laugh it off. 

“That’s ridiculous. I couldn’t never do what Spiderman does. Have you seen what he does? Because-” 

“Relax Peter,” you sighed, picking at your food,  “I know you’re not Spiderman.” 

He tilted his head. Did you believe him so easily? Or did you think he really couldn’t do what Spiderman does? He resisted the urge to show any hint of sadness. It was called secret identity for a reason. Whatever the reason you believed him, wasn’t he better off not knowing? 

“Why do you say that?” Curiosity killed the cat, and apparently the spider.  

You smiled, “Because you would tell me, right?” 

And he plastered a smile on his face, feeling an aching in his chest, a burning statement on his tongue, and a yearning to touch your hand laying on the table. 

But he didn’t. 

“Yeah, I would.” 

And he would, eventually. 

But not now. 

3. 

“You haven’t had your first kiss?” Peter shushed your raised voice, as you covered your mouth. Luckily, the library had mostly been abandoned today after school let out for the long weekend. Books placed neatly on shelves, without the frantic stress and chatter of students tucked away at tables, and instead there was the occasional shuffle of the librarian cleaning up after the departed students. You offered a small smile as an apology, and Peter took it - because it was your smile, “I’m sorry, I was just surprised.” 

“Clearly,” he shook his head, and he couldn’t meet your eyes, choosing instead to stare at your forehead, “I just haven’t met the right person, and now I just want to get it over with.” 

“Why?” And he raised a brow, “Did someone find out?”

“MJ and Flash,” he lied, and he wondered if you actually hadn’t heard, or if you were just that good of a liar. It had slipped out during class during a conversation with his former best friend, who chose the exact moment the pair walked over to nearly yell it. He was sure that MJ told you, she was your other best friend, besides him, and if she hadn’t, then maybe he had ruined it for himself. 

He said ‘former’ best friend for a reason. 

“Do you really want your kiss to be with anyone?” he bit his lip, lowering his eyes. 

“Not just anyone, but I would like to be with someone I have a connection with,” he could feel himself pouting, as he went on, “I just want it to be out of the way, no pressure-” 

And speaking of pressure, he was cut off by a soft pressure, and he blinked, finding you at his lips. A chaste kiss, only a second or two, but it felt like forever to Peter. His stomach was alight, the same fluttering he felt flying through the air from building to building, but instead it radiated from your touch. It slipped away just as easily as it came. 

“I-” you gathered your things quickly, shoving them into your bag. 

You brushed by, calling out as you past him, “And now we can each other’s firsts!” The librarian shushed you, and you spared her a glance, not him. And he touched his lips. 

This weekend was officially too long. 

4. 

You clung to Peter’s arm, and he was trying really hard not to grin. He felt you brush him every so often, your arms intertwined. He tried to keep himself preoccupied, texting Mr. Stark to give him an update on their location. 

So this is the girl you’re always talking about, huh? 

He felt his cheeks burn, passing off his strangled gasp as a cough, Please, don’t mention that in front of her. 

No promises, kid. Look up.

He did as Tony said, spotting him standing with Happy and Pepper by his side, smiling at both of you, “Y/N,” he turned to you, as you looked around Stark Tower in awe. He snapped his fingers in front of your face, and you blinked, turning to him, “This is-” 

“Tony Stark,” Tony stretched out a hand to shake and you took it, eyes wide. 

 “It’s such an honor to meet you, sir.” 

“Please, call me Mr. Stark,” he winked, raising his eyebrows at Peter, “If you follow us, we can start the tour.” 

“You’re giving us a tour?” And Tony clapped his hand on Peter’s shoulder. 

“Anything for my favorite intern,” he turned, and you squeezed Peter’s hand, grinning, “keep up. I don’t need another lawsuit about losing a kid in here.” 

~~~

“I can see why you like her, kid,” Tony fell into step beside Peter, as Happy, Pepper and you kept the lead, “She’s a keeper.” 

“Yeah, I know,” he muttered, scratching his neck, looking to you. You were friends, best friends, but he wasn’t sure if you would be anything more than that. 

“You know, with a girl like that, it’s always best to make a move, even if you’re terrified,” Peter looked to Tony, finding him staring at Pepper with a smile, “It’s a leap of faith.”

“Yeah, thank you, for everything,” And Tony clapped a hand to his shoulder. 

“Of course, after all, you had this girl as your lock screen for a year, didn’t you? Had to meet her after that.” Peter heard a gasp and his head snapped up, finding you, Pepper, and Happy all staring at them. Your hands covered your mouth, head tilted in confusion. 

“I was your lock screen?” 

Peter glared at Tony. Spiderman was going to kill Iron Man, it was going to happen, but only after he had this incredibly awkward conversation. He couldn’t ask Tony to wipe your memory...right? “You weren’t supposed to hear that.” 

You grabbed his hand, pulling him aside, and he spared a glance back to see Pepper smacking Tony on the arm, as Happy held his forehead, before shaking his head. You stopped, “So, how am I supposed to take being your lock screen for a year?” 

“In a not creepy way?” You tilted your head, and Peter groaned, “I’m sorry, I-” 

“Peter, I like you,” 

“I’m sorry, I just really liked this picture of you and-” He paused, “what did you say?” You stepped forward, placing your hand on one of his shoulders, the other resting against his cheek. He leaned into your touch, your thumb brushing his cheek. 

“I like you, Peter, do you like me?” he nodded wordlessly. He couldn’t speak. There were no words that he could say, nothing he could articulate that could possibly - you leaned closer, and he swore, the butterflies were going to burst from his stomach, his knees nearly buckling, and his head spun, “can I kiss you?”

“At least you asked this time,” he muttered, before his eyes grew wide, nearly stuttering apologies, but your lips covered his. Your lips fell together and apart, and he found you chasing his, as his arms wrapped around your waist, tugging you closer. He pressed another kiss to your forehead. 

“I told you, kid,” Peter looked over, hearing a distinct snap of the camera app, “No promises.” 

5. 

Lying beside him, your head nestled against in the crook of his neck, lips pressing mindless kisses to him, as he tried (and failed) to talk about his day, he couldn’t think of anything more perfect. He sighed into your touch, wrapping his arm around your middle. 

That was until he got a message from Tony. 

Emergency. Need to go. Now. Wear the suit. 

“I have to go,” Peter got up, and you frowned at him, looking curiously as he began to rummage through his closet, “I need to tell you something.” 

“Peter, what’s going on?” he quickly shuttered the closet door shut, and he could almost hear you bit your lip. 

“I only hid it from you because I didn’t want you to be in danger, but this mission is really important, and I don’t want to leave without telling you. Well, showing you.” Peter said, his voice muffled by the closet door. 

“A mission? What are you talking about?” He said nothing, so you sat up on his bed, crossing your arms, “So are you going to come out of the closet? Or are you going to live there now?” You heard him inhale a shaky breath, as the closet doors parted, revealing Peter in the Spiderman suit. You gaped at him, eyes widening. 

“MJ was right?” he rolled his eyes, crossing his arms.

“That’s what your reaction is?” he shook his head, holding his 

You got up, approaching him slowly, almost afraid to break the moment. You carefully placed your hands on his shoulder, as if it would shatter the illusion, and reveal reality. But it didn’t. Your hands slowly slid back, looping your arms around his neck, tugging him closer. Lips curled in a frown, you asked the one question he wished you didn’t. 

“How dangerous of a mission are you going on?” his gaze dropped to the floor, but you held his cheek, forcing him to meet your eyes, “You don’t have to tell me anything...Just come back home safe, okay?” 

“I will,” he whispered, his lips pressing sweetly to yours, “I promise.” He pulled you to his chest, “You don’t have any secrets to tell me before you go, do you?” 

You thought about it, stopping him from pulling his Spiderman mask down, “Just one.” You whispered in his ear, and he stared at you, speechless. There was a knock at the window. 

“Come on, kid,” Mr. Stark hovered outside his window, “we gotta go. Say your goodbyes.” 

You pressed one last kiss to Peter’s lips, pulling his mask down, “Go get ‘em, Peter.” 

“Y/N, I-” you shook your head, smiling softly. 

“Go, we’ll talk about it when you come back.” And he nodded, pulling open his window, and he was gone. 

“I love you.” 

And you sank onto his bed, swallowing thickly. You guessed that was another secret he would keep from you, for a while. Your hand curled into fists, gripping the covers. 

Tap. Tap. Tap.

You scooted off the bed, looking to see Peter staring back at you. You scrambled to the window, “Did you forget something-” 

He captured your lips in a firm kiss, his fingers buried in your hair, grasping at the back of your neck, swallowing your gasp with the smile you could feel against your lips. He parted only for a moment to breath back, 

“I love you too.” 

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