(A.N. This is my first Coraline fanfic, and I hope you enjoy it! It has mild swearing and slightly hints at sexual encounters but it's VERY innocent.)

Wybourne Lovatt woke up with his face nuzzled into the neck of a certain blue-haired spitfire. She was breathing deeply, so he knew she hadn't woken yet. He loved this time in the mornings. Their room was warm, the air thick with sleep and Coraline's soft skin pressed against him made him feel more relaxed than ever. He nuzzled her neck gently and breathed her in. She stirred, and after a few moments he felt her hand come up to rest on his shoulder.

"Wybourne, we have to get up."

"No."

"Yes, Wybie. Don't make me shove you out of the bed."

"You wouldn't."

"Don't bet on it."

After a few more mumbled complaints, and a mini-shove to show she was wasn't bluffing, they were both up and stretching. Coraline got up, yawned, and walked out the door, moments later he heard the bathroom door close. He saw something move by the window, and he glanced over to see Cat nimbly walking on the windowsill, a few feet from the headboard. Their place was tiny, but it suited them fine for the time being. Wybie took a moment to just bask in how well his life had turned out after the Other World incidents.

The moments by The Well that fateful night had turned Wybie and Coraline's passing friendship into a full fledged best-friendship that then finally became a relationship when they had just turned fifteen. Since then they had stayed together, eventually moving into this place a year prior, after graduating. Now, at 20 years old he was so happy he had to sometimes check to make sure he wasn't just dreaming, like he used to as a teenager.

"WYBOURNE!"

He was pulled out of his thoughts by the sound of his longtime girlfriend shrieking. It briefly reminded him of when they first met, and he scared her with his mask. Soon he was flying to the bathroom, where a naked Coraline was standing pressed against the wall opposite the shower. She didn't cover herself, because it wasn't like he had never seen her body before. The first time he had, he almost cried due to the sheer beauty of all that was his Coraline.

"J-Jesus, Jonesy, what happened?" He always stuttered when he was panicked, however, it had gotten much better.

"There's a FUCKING spider, Wybourne, THAT'S what happened!" She swore sometimes, but only in anger, or fear.

After what had happened, he had gotten most of the details over the years. So he understood that she wasn't just grossed out like most were at the thought of spiders. She was genuinely frightened. Jonesy didn't scare easily by any means, but there were certain triggers that had the power to make her remember all the things she wanted most to sweep from her mind. Needless to say, spiders were a major one, for obvious reasons.

"Don't worry Jonesy, I'll kill it." He pulled some toilet paper from the holder and stepped to the shower; there it was, on the wall by Coraline's bottle of shampoo. He was a nasty little thing, thick and black. He squashed it with the paper, and threw the paper in the toilet. After flushing it, he looked over at her and saw she had calmed down, and was running a hand through her short hair with her eyes closed.

"Are you okay, Jonesy?" She just nodded, her eyes staying closed. He then noticed that her cheeks were very faintly growing pink. She was embarrassed. After sweeping his very interested gaze over her naked form a few times (hey, he was still a man!), he spoke up, in hopes of helping her know he didn't think whatever she assumed he was thinking of her.

"Geez, that thing was gross. I felt scared and I'm the one who's supposed to LIKE bugs!" She opened her eyes, and when she saw his smile her face softened, and she smiled back as a silent thank-you. Finally, she seemed to acknowledge that she was unclothed, and so she gestured to the door. As he passed to give her privacy, he could just hear her mumble, "Thanks, Wybie.". He just smirked and strode to their kitchen.

After brewing some coffee, he put bagels (chocolate chip because they both liked those best) in the toaster and turned on their little radio. They had painted it purple and listened to it every morning. Cat crawled from the hallway to the kitchen, which was attached to their tiny living room. Their door was mere feet away from their small T.V. That didn't matter much seeing as neither of them watched much television anyway. Cat walked to his water bowl, took a few dignified sips, then strolled into the room, jumped onto the couch arm and settled himself there.

Wybie heard Coraline bustle in, still buttoning her shirt. She looked comfy, in black long leggings, red flats, and a red flannel that hung loose on her thin frame. She was also in her "dramatic" make-up, which meant natural looking eye shadow paired with deep red lipstick. With her blue hair (which she still kept short) and her pierced ears and nose, she looked very modern, but still very Coraline-y. Her freckles were still very visible, and as always they made him want to kiss her nose.

"I'm making bagels." He announced, and then jumped slightly when they popped out. He pulled them out, put one in a paper towel and handed it to her. She nodded in thanks, and then went searching for one of the many things she lost every morning.

"Have you seen my phone?" She asked, looking up from her bag.

"On the coffee table, I think." He replied, his mouth full of bagel.

"Thank you!" She sang, and swiped it up. She pet Cat behind the ears, and his eyes closed while he purred. She grabbed her coat, handed Wybie his, and motioned to the door.

It was pure luck that their jobs were so close. He worked as a mechanic, but didn't know what career he really wanted yet. He was good with cars and the work was fun, so he was fine for the time being. Coraline, on the other hand, had found a career that had been surprising at first; a tattoo artist. She had decided on being one when they were seventeen and she had shown him her work, surprisingly shyly, and then he had seen how talented she really was when it came to drawing. Her drawings were whimsical, but they all had dark undertones that apparently brought in a lot of clientele.

After he dropped her off, a quick kiss goodbye later, he arrived at his job, making sure all the lipstick was off first of course. He would never live that one down with the other workers.

He got off a little earlier than she did, so he usually passed the time by reading or sketching the scenery around him in the car, using a reading light. He wasn't too bad a drawer either, but his sketches of the outdoors had nothing on his girl's. After a while of this, it was time to get her, so he drove to the shop. She seemed antsy, but cheerful. They talked about their day's, but there was an energetic buzz in the air. When they got home, she all but ran to the door, dragging him with her.

"Jeez, Jonesy, what's got you so riled up?" However, he had barely spoken before she was unzipping his beloved trenchcoat, her coat already off.

"I just missed you. A lot." Then her lips were on his, and he was unbuttoning the soft flannel, and he couldn't remember ever being THIS happy. He almost felt bad for everyone else on the planet, simply because she was with him, not them. It was a big feeling.

An hour later, she sat on the couch, wearing his discarded t shirt while on the phone ordering pizza (meat lovers because it was the best kind). His head was in her lap and his legs were thrown over the armchair, Cat settled on top of them. He was flipping through shows until he decided on an old rerun of "Law and Order", and she finished the call, running her hands through his impossible hair while he just looked up and gave her a soft smile. She returned it, and then they both sat half-watching the show, feeling content and very, very happy.

"Wybourne?"

"Hmm?" He looked up at her, but she still had her eyes on the show.

"I really want to paint this place. The walls are depressing." This was true, they were off- white, and very dull. "We could maybe hang some stuff up, at least." She continued, "We could make a game of it. There has to be wall decorations at least at the dollar store. We could have a contest to see who could find the weirdest picture to hang up or something."

"If we're getting stuff to hang up, lets get a mirror for our bedroom ceiling." He waggled his eyebrows, and he earned a soft glare and a slap on the chest for his efforts. Before she could reply, the pizza arrived. Their late dinner was quiet, and peaceful. After an old episode of "friends" they retired for the night, snuggling close like always. After some banter they were asleep, tired but warm. She was pressed into his side, and his hand settled on the small of her back. He gently rubbed circles there, and soon heard her soft, slow breathing, letting him no she was asleep. Wybie's last thought before he too, entered dreamland was "I'm the luckiest man alive." He slept with a smile.