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mymelodyheart · 3 years

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Miles Between Us Chapter 11 ~Suspicious Minds~

Picture Edit by melodyheart

Previously in The Art of Non-Communication ...

A familiar bright red Fiat slowed down next to them just as Jamie was about to get into the car, and Ian, their brother-in-law, poked his head out of the window. "Hey, lads, guess who I just saw back in town?"

The brothers looked at each other and shrugged.

When Ian stalled, Willie blew out an impatient breath.

"Out with it!" Willie grumbled. "I've been away from work for far too long already."

Ian grinned. "Yer pal Christie."

Jamie waved a hand in the air in dismissal and turned to open the car door, not particularly interested in hearing the latest coming and going in Broch Mordha. "I'm pretty sure the lassies will be thrilled he's back."

"Aye, ye're probably right, but I dinnae think ye'd be too pleased to hear if one particular lass is enjoying his company."

Jamie whipped around. "What do ye mean?" He sounded like someone just launched a flying rugby pass onto his stomach.

"Saw Claire and Tom through the window of Slater's Arms. Probably sitting down for late lunch."

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Claire hurriedly made her way to Slater's Arms to meet Tom Christie. They'd arranged earlier to meet at the pub after he'd dropped her off at the village centre to do her errands, so she was surprised to see him waiting outside. After exchanging a hurried cursory hello, he allowed him to guide her through the half-filled bar, his hand ever so lightly touching her elbow. They were greeted by a string of boisterous sallies from the locals, to which Tom good-humouredly responded with a couple of wisecracks of his own . It was becoming pretty clear they were in his local haunt and was well-liked by its patrons. But she also suspected there could be whispers going around, wondering what she was doing with him. Despite those thoughts, she kept her head up, and a smile plastered to her face.

After navigating through the narrow maze of tables and chairs, they opted for an empty space by the window, away from the bar where a heated football discussion was just about to begin. They simultaneously slid into their seats, sitting opposite each other, his lopsided grin and lax manner putting her immediately at ease. He was seemingly oblivious to the curious stares around them, but Claire paid no heed to the attention they were garnering and pushed her earlier encounter with Jenny away from her mind. This was a professional meeting, a welcome distraction even though it was proving an impossibility not to picture Jamie across from her. Suddenly missing Jamie, she allowed her thoughts to momentarily drift and wondered what he was up to.

"Hey."

Claire snapped out of her reverie. "Huh?"

"I asked if ye're hungry."

"Oh! Well, I'm not sure," she murmured, squinting at the specials scrawled on the blackboard hanging behind the bar. "Sort of, I guess."

"Sort of?" he laughed. "What kind of answer is that?" He passed her a menu. "Here. Ye ought to try their haggis tweeds. They have the best in this area."

She snorted, taking the menu card and skimming through it. "Really? I've never met a Scot who liked haggis, and yet every one of you lot I've met recommends it to non-locals."

"Aaahh," he leaned forward, propping his elbows on the table. "To be honest, I dinnae like haggis myself when cooked the traditional way. But the haggis tweeds are different ...more palatable. They're rolled into balls, breaded and deep-fried. I'm quite sure ye'll like them."

"Hmmm ..." When she glanced up from the menu, she met his thoughtful gaze. Though smiling, he had an odd expression on his face. "Wot?" She smoothed her hair, thinking it must be all over the place. She dreaded what her hair looked like after being caught in the rain earlier on. She wished now she'd tied it back before leaving the cottage. "Anything wrong?"

Tom shrugged his shoulders. "Just noticing ye dinnae look as upbeat as ye sounded on the phone the first time we talked. I was expecting ye to be more excited about selling me the idea of publishing my travel book. Ye kinda look as if something is bothering ye. Is anything the matter?"

She let out an exhale and placed the menu down. "I'm sorry. I've just had a rough day."

"Boyfriend problem?" he asked slowly.

She arched an eyebrow at him. Friendly as Tom was, Claire wasn't prepared to share any details of her personal life. "I just have a lot of things going on, and then you threw me out of the loop," she explained, not wanting to lie but not wanting to over-share either. "I was caught off-guard when you phoned earlier, and I wasn't expecting your call until, at least, sometime next week."

"Ye could've told me to meet at a later date. I wouldnae have minded."

"No! Today is fine," she assured him quickly. "I'm probably slowly weaning from the fast pace of hectic schedules in London, that at the first sign of change, I stumble a bit."

He grinned. "Weel, whatever is bothering ye, I dinnae like you looking so downcast. Maybe we can do something about it right now and tell ye a bit of good news. To cheer ye up."

"I like good news ..." she remarked, perking up, guessing he probably had a new picture or post on his blog he wanted to show.

"That's much better," he said when he caught a hint of a smile forming on her face. "As I was saying, I have a bit of good news. I've been giving your proposition a lot of thought ..." he shifted on his seat and took a deep breath. "I've decided I want to go ahead and publish my travel blog in print."

She blinked and swallowed before finding her voice. "But you haven't seen the projected sale and all the ..."

He waved a hand. "I'm quite sure after that impressive pitch over the phone, yer projected whatever and other wotnots ye wish to go over with me will be just as equally convincing. The idea is sold, and I'm on board."

"Just like that?"

He nodded his head, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Aye. Now that I've met ye in person, I'm pretty confident ye'll make sure I'll get a fair deal for my book. I'm a good judge of character, and I trust ye'll do what's right."

"Of course."

"So it's settled."

"Well, that's ...that's fabulous," she breathed, her mind rushing in all sorts of direction.

"This calls for a celebration, don't ye think?" he smiled, waving at the waitress.

Before Claire could reply, her purse vibrated. She pointed an index finger at Tom. "Hold that thought." She opened her bag and grabbed her phone. It was her boss, John Grey.

"Oh, hi, John! I'm in the middle of ..."

"Claire, I'm sorry to dump this on you," John said rapidly in a panicky tone. "Mary Hawkins just phoned and said she expects you to pick her up at Inverness Airport."

"Wot?!? But how? Why?" She glanced at Tom and noticed a light frown lining his brows. "She hasn't been answering any of my emails. What the hell is she doing in Inverness?" She knew it wasn't professional to be discussing another author over the phone with a potential client in front of her. But it couldn't be helped. At the moment, she was far too agitated to care. Mary Hawkins, the publishing's star author, had been elusive ever since she disappeared to France, and she'd been the reason Claire had decided to take a break in Scotland only to be given another job in the form of Tom Christie. "Please don't tell me you sent her here. I have enough on my plate as it is." She gave Tom an apologetic look, to which he just shrugged and smiled in understanding.

A frustrated sigh came from John. "I swear to God, this isn't my doing. She arrived yesterday here in London, and when she demanded to start work right away on her book, I assigned another editor. But she wouldn't have it. She insisted on working with you. So I told her you're in Inverness doing another project. And then she called a few minutes ago, demanding you pick her up at the airport. I swear I didn't know she was planning on flying to Inverness."

Oh, God! "John!" she whined. "I can't just drop everything and pick her up. I'm an editor, not a chauffeur! I'm in the middle of talks with Mr Christie."

"I'm terribly sorry for this mess, Claire but, isn't there anything you can do? Your boyfriend, perhaps? You know how Hawkins is a big deal for the company."

She took a deep breath and squeezed her eyes shut. Claire felt she was being put in a position she didn't want to be in. On top of it all, her uncle would be arriving in two days, and there was the added worry she had with Jamie and potentially Jenny. The day was definitely getting worse by the second, but Claire reminded herself she was John's only hope, and he was a friend and had always been good to her. When she finally had the strength to open her eyes again, Tom mouthed something she couldn't quite catch.

Wot do you mean? She mouthed back, shaking her head.

"Claire, are you still there?"

"Yes!" she snapped, tamping down the urge to curse. "I'm here!"

"Well?"

She let out a frustrated breath. There was no way out of it. "Fine, John! But you owe me big time! I'll see what I can do." Damn it!

"You're a star!" John said, relief lacing his voice. "I knew I could rely on you. I'll text Hawkins to let her know you're on your way, and then I'll text you her private number. I don't think you'll have that. It's one of the reasons you couldn't get in touch with her. Anyway, let me know later how you get on."

Before she could answer, the line went dead. What the bloody hell just happened?

Claire dropped her head into her hands and groaned. She wanted to bawl, throw stuff and pull her hair out in frustration.

"Problems?"

She raised her head and looked at Tom. "I'm sorry you had to witness that. I have to cancel our meeting. I need to somehow get to Inverness and pick up this author I'm working with." Without going into too many details, Claire quickly explained her predicament, almost forgetting to breathe. By the time she finished, she was gasping for air and wondering if Tom understood what the hell she was on about. "As you can see, I probably have to organise her accommodation as well. So I really must get going." She stood up and grabbed her bag. "Raincheck?"

He got on his feet as well. "Look, I'm not doing anything for the rest of the day. How about I drive you to Inverness. I can even help you set her up."

"Tom, you don't have to."

"Hey, I'm about to get a book deal from your boss. Let me at least prove to ye what a perfect travel guide I am as I've portrayed on my blog."

Claire stopped to collect herself. On second thoughts, she did need Tom's help, and she couldn't well impose on Willie to drive her to Inverness when he'd been taking time off to check up on her ever since Jamie left. Maybe she could kill two birds with one stone and talk him through his own book's publishing process on their way to the airport. It was a brilliant idea, and hopefully, by the end of today, John would be able to draw up a contract for Tom. With a resigned smile, Claire appreciatively accepted the offer. "Alright then, but we do need to get going now."

"Absolutely. We'll go through the back door." When Claire looked at him curiously, he grinned. "I've parked the car in the staffs' parking lot. I'm good friends with the owner, so I get the privilege to walk through the kitchen and use the backdoor," he explained. Then he leaned closer to her ear and spoke in a low voice. "And if the chef is in a good mood, he might allow us to taste today's menu."

Claire laughed out loud, attracting attention from the pub's clientele. She ignored the curious stares. It was good to laugh again after the last couple of days of feeling down, and she owed it to herself to steer negativity and worries from her thoughts. "We'll stop by the cottage to get some clothes. Knowing my client, she'll probably want to stay in a posh hotel in Inverness and want to start working right away. She doesn't do bed and breakfast or small places. So I doubt she'll want to come to Broch Mordha."

Tom nodded with a smile as he took her hand and lead the way.

Heading to the back of the pub, Claire made a few mental notes on what she needed to take with her. She also reminded herself to message Willie about taking care of Rollo and Adso while she's away, hoping he would think nothing of it when he hears from the village gossip of her meeting with Tom.

...........

Jamie caught Willie's livid expression before the car started, and they were driving down the small country lane. He knew his brother was miffed with Ian, who'd sped ahead of them after revealing Claire's whereabouts with Christie. Though common sense told him he had nothing to be worried about, it had been still a punch in the gut to hear Claire was out with another man.

"Can ye speed up a bit?" Jamie muttered, shifting restlessly on his seat.

"We're not in a bloody motorway, and there are speed limits for a reason," Willie growled, his fingers flexing on the steering wheel. "And it will do ye a lot of good to use this time to calm down before we reach Claire. It's obvious ye're not thinking clearly."

Jamie almost wished he'd taken a ride with Ian instead. They couldn't see their brother-in-law's red Fiat anymore as it disappeared at a bend further ahead. But he knew Willie was right. He wasn't thinking clearly. It's just that, why it had to be Thomas Christie of all people Claire had chosen to go out with. He had nothing against the bloke, but he was a renowned player. What if Claire had grown tired of his condition and fell for Christie's charms? It wouldn't be a difficult feat as the bloke oozed charms by the bucketload. Hadn't he lost a girlfriend in the past because of Christie? Or was it because of his condition? He couldn't be sure anymore. Either way, knowing Claire was with Christie at this very moment was burning a hole in his stomach. "So ye're an expert on my thoughts now, are ye?" Jamie grunted, unable to think of a better excuse for his behaviour.

"I dinnae need to be an expert to know what ye're thinking ... it's written all o'er yer face," Willie retorted. "If ye'd called her up in the first place, then ye would've had a fair idea why she's meeting Christie, and ye wouldnae be in this stinking shite thinking the worse. The lass has been worried sick about ye, and she's put up with yer silence more than what could be expected of her. So do both yerselves a favour and calm the fuck down, aye?"

Jamie knocked back the claustrophobic sensation and forced himself to breathe. This had always been his trouble with his PTSD. He always had these intense emotions that always grew out of proportion to a point it would suffocate him, especially negatives ones like a feeling of lacking or guilt. Wasn't that what Geneva had said? There was a lot of misplaced guilt involved? And no matter what he did to get better, it was a bloody never-ending cycle that always brought him back to square one. But despite the shortcomings, he knew it would kill him if he didn't give himself a fighting chance with Claire. He might as well die trying. She was, after all, either going to be his reason for living or the reason he died. It was all right there, shining in front of him like a floodlight.

With a sigh, he tried to relax. Jamie knew justifying his earlier behaviour was a bad idea in both their current edgy states, but nothing would stop him from seeing Claire right now. It was like a need that required satisfying, and he couldn't wait to finally see her. He focused on the road ahead of them and listened to the radio to take his mind of negative thoughts.

It's a dreich Thursday afternoon, and here's another trip down memory lane with Mac's Classics here at MFR, with the biggest hits and the biggest throwbacks. Next up is a song sure to make ye forget the dreary days ahead – Let's get rickrolling with Never Gonna Give You Up.

"Turn it up," Jamie said suddenly, surprising his brother.

"What?" Willie glanced at him like he'd grown a pair of horns.

"I said, turn the bloody volume up!"

"Ye're joking, right? Rick fucking Astley? Nae chance pal!"

"Just do it," Jamie huffed, not caring what his brother thought of his song choice. When Claire had told him it had made her smile listening to it in the cafe the other day, he'd listened to it as well on his mother's antique record player. It was a bloody awful song, but for some strange reason, it had made him smile too.

Scowling and cursing under his breath, Willie eventually complied, and they listened to Rick Astley's song for the rest of the way. When they reached the village centre, Willie illegally parked outside Slater's Arms, carefully avoiding bumping into the menacing bollards. They were just about to get out of the car when Ian appeared from the pub, shaking his head.

Willie stuck his head out of the window. "What's the matter?"

"They're gone," Ian replied, shrugging, perplexity evident in his expression. "Spoke to Angus, and he said they didn't even order anything. They just got up and left."

Jamie got out of the car. "Did he say where they went?"

Ian narrowed his gaze at him. "I didnae ask."

Jamie ran a hand in front of his face and got back in the car. His brother had to work. There was only one thing left he could do, and it was to go back to the cottage, and if Claire wasn't there, he'd give her a call. He turned to Willie, letting out a sigh of resignation. "Just drop me off at the cottage. I've taken too much of yer time already."

"Ye sure?" Willie asked quietly. "I can drop ye off at Lallybroch. Yer car is there. Ye'll most probably need it soon, especially with more bad weather to come."

Jamie shook his head. He was certain Claire would be at home, and if not, surely later. He wasn't planning on going anywhere anytime soon but had every intention of making up for lost time with her. "It's time to go home," Jamie sighed, waving goodbye to Ian. "No more running away,"

Willie smiled, starting the car. "Good choice!"

It was a short drive to his cottage, and by the time they pulled up outside his house, the sun started to peek out for a splinter of a moment, his driveway though occupied by an unfamiliar vehicle. As soon as he saw a man's profile sat on the driver's seat, he immediately knew it was Christie. As if anticipating his next move and before he could yank off his seatbelt, Willie slapped a hand across his chest.

"What?" Jamie wheezed.

"Claire's in the cottage. Talk to her first and find out what's going on before ye jump to any conclusions."

Jamie breathed through a laugh, but he could hear it was edged with doubt. "What if I've fucked this up?"

"Ye havenae. And it's up to ye to keep that way. Now go to her. Ye'll find out soon enough there's a perfect explanation for Christie hanging about."

Words were fighting to leave his tongue, but he clamped his lips together and held them back. Vocalising the feelings raging inside his chest would only allow his emotions to run away with him. He reigned them in and took a deep breath. Whether it's a consequence of PTSD or not, he couldn't expect Claire to understand every time. So instead, Jamie gave Willie a reassuring nod and hoped his brother was right.

He got out of the car and walked straight to the cottage, refusing to acknowledge Christie. He knew he was being rude and could feel his brother's eyes boring into his back as well as Christie's. He didn't care because right at this moment, his primary focus was Claire.

As soon as he opened the door and saw Claire hooking a bag onto her shoulder, he bounded across the room, dropping his face into her neck and breathing for the first time in days. "Sassenach," he whispered. "I'm so sorry for leaving ye. I wasnae thinking. Please forgive me."

Claire dropped her bag on the floor, wrapping both arms around his neck. "Jamie, you're here," she breathed into his ear. "Are you alright? God, I've been so worried about you."

"I'm alright now that I'm here and ye're here," he rasped, lifting his head for a moment and eyeing the bags on the floor. "Why are yer bags packed?"

She followed his gaze. "I ...ah ... it's work, and I have to ..."

"Ye're going back to London?"

"No!"

That's all he needed to hear. Unable to wait any longer for an explanation, he pulled her into his arms as urgency pumped in his veins. He badly needed to absorb as much as he could of her, breathing her in, in huge gulps of air. His mouth travelled over her neck, into her hair, across her lips, whispering for forgiveness, his hands restless as he touched her everywhere.

"Hey, look at me ... there's nothing to forgive," she murmured, drawing away. She placed her hands on both sides of his face and searched his eyes. "I understand what you've been going through, and I know you're fighting your hardest. It's going to be alright."

"I've missed ye." He turned his face to kiss her palm before placing her hand on his chest. "I-I thought ye're better off without me. I thought I could walk away from ye, and it would be enough knowing ye're safe from me. But nothing was right. I was sick to the soul, knowing I've left ye. I wanted ye to be with a better man than me, but now ... I'm gonnae be selfish and beg ye to let me be that man by yer side."

"Jamie, where's this coming from?" she queried. "I was worried and afraid for you, but I haven't changed my mind about us." She sighed. "Your brother told me yesterday, you were seeing a therapist this morning. Did you go today?"

Jamie swallowed and nodded, unable to still his hands, touching her everywhere, needing to assure himself he was really holding her.

"Is this why you're talking like this? Has the therapy dug up a lot of unwanted issues? Because if it has, it's perfectly normal."

"No!" He let out a frustrated breath. He'd been so unpredictable with the symptoms of his PTSD coming and going, she wasn't taking him seriously when he needed her to hear him out. "No, please listen and look me in the eye. I panicked when I saw the bruises on yer arms, and without thinking, I left. I did what I did because I didnae think I could ever be the man for ye ...a bloody disappointment, constantly causing ye grief. But I understand now why my condition is out of control at the moment ... it's because I have suppressed emotions that need to come out. It's been coming out more because all this while, ye've been the key to my healing. So I'm handing everything inside me over to ye because I trust ye, and ye're the only one who can make sense of me. I cannae promise smooth sailing, Sassenach, but there is one thing I know ye can depend on and will always be constant despite my condition. And that's my love for ye. I can guarantee ye with certainty ye can rely on that. This isnae a result of my therapy talking, alright? I willnae let ye go for anything. I can work around my condition with ye by my side, and I'll work twice as hard to get better."

"Jamie, I love you too, and I have no doubt that ..."

"Then why are your bags packed?" he questioned accusingly. "And why is Christie outside waiting for ye?"

With a sharp intake of breath, Claire quickly explained everything from the call she received from her boss to Christie's involvement and an impatient Mary Hawkins waiting for her at the airport.

He could tell she was itching to go by the way she tried to subtly glance at her watch, but he was feeling too selfish. "How about I drive ye to Inverness?" he cajoled, his hand stroking her hair. "Willie is still outside. We'll get my car in Lallybroch, and I'll drive ye." He suddenly felt like a bastard keeping her from doing her work.

"Jamie, no!" she said gently but firmly. He knew she was restraining herself from rushing off, wanting to make sure he was alright first. "I can't be fretting about you being in a city when I have work to do. There's a possibility I'll be back tonight, but if Mary wants to work straight away on her book, then I have to stay in Inverness for a couple of nights, tops. Besides, I need to explain to Tom about his book's publication and make sure he hasn't changed his mind. Until we've drawn up a contract, nothing is certain." Her hands smoothed the hard muscles on his chest. "Besides, I need you to be here when my uncle comes. He'll be hiring a car, so he won't require picking up."

"What? Ye're uncle is coming here?" he almost shouted.

"No. I mean, uncle Lamb won't be staying here in the cottage even though you told him he could. I've already booked him a place in the village centre ...close to the amenities."

He let out a sigh of relief. He didn't think he was ready to bond with Harry's look-alike ...yet. If anything, he dreaded it, afraid of other suppressed memories dying to come out and choke him with guilt.

"Jamie, I really ought to go. I promise I'll call later and explain everything."

With a groan, he pulled Claire in once more in his arms and kissed her thoroughly, and she responded with a whimper that told him she was enjoying the kiss. He hadn't even had a second to savour getting her back before the prospect of letting her go again struck him like a baseball bat between the shoulder blades. But he wanted to give her something to remember while she's away and what she'll be missing if she didn't hurry up with her work. He slipped his hand under her cardigan, caressing her nipple with the calloused pad of his thumb and pressing his burgeoning erection against her belly.

"I love ye ...always remember that." His mouth coasted along the lines of her jaw, his hands squeezing her waist. "I ken ye've been patient and understanding with me, but just try to be extra tolerant with me for now. Can ye do that?"

She nodded, her face red from beard burn. "Alright, but I do need to go, Jamie." Her eyes flashed. "And you have nothing to worry about. So please rest up tonight because you'll need a hell of a lot of energy when my uncle comes."

It's the way she looked at him, pleading for understanding that became his undoing as if she's reading his thoughts, and despite everything he'd done, she couldn't find fault with a single one. He needed to be a better man and control his emotions and needs. Her work was important to her, and she was important to him. "Fine, I'll walk ye to the car." He stooped down to get her bags and followed her outside.

They stopped beside Christie's car, and Jamie watched the other man climbed out, both men grunting a greeting at each other.

"Am I still driving ye to Inverness, Claire?" Christie asked, avoiding Jamie's eyes.

Claire nodded. "Yes, please, if that's still alright with you. I'm so sorry I took so long."

"It's nae bother, and of course, I'll drive ye to Inverness," Christie smiled warmly.

A long silence stretched as the three of them just stood there. Christie rocked on his heels, and Jamie held on to Claire's bags like it was his lifeline.

Caught up in the awkwardness of the moment, Claire bit her bottom lip. "Well, I guess that's settled then. We best get going before Mary does something like bite some poor soul's head at the airport." Claire's attempt to sound cheerful lessened the tension in the air but not the one on Jamie's shoulders. She turned to him and tried to take her bags off his hands, but he couldn't seem to let go. "Jamie ...my bags," she whispered, her hand running up and down his forearm as if to tell him everything was going to be alright.

But instead of giving Claire's bags back to her, he begrudgingly handed them to Christie while launching if looks could kill look over her head. They had a few seconds of stare off until Claire's hands on his face forced him to look at her.

"Jamie, kiss me, goodbye?"

He didn't hesitate at her request and sucked on her bottom lip as she made a sobbing noise. That wee noise she made jolted something free inside of him, and he, too, wanted to cry. He couldn't remember wanting to openly cry before. Not like this. He couldn't control it, and it dragged him down, stealing oxygen from his lungs, but Claire's touches soothed him.

"I don't want to go," she murmured against his mouth. "Not one bit. But I'm doing this for us, remember that. The sooner I'm done with work, the more time we can spend time together."

He allowed himself to wade into the shallow waters of comfort Claire was starting to represent. He'd lived with this reality for too long that he wasn't enough. Or probably worse, he was too much. For years, these memories of loss and guilt and shame had been subdued. Now they're coming out with guns blazing, and he felt totally defenceless. But with her arms around him, he felt cocooned in her bubble of protection. So he clung to her like a drunk with his last shot of whisky, the desperation inside him going into overdrive, and he was practically mauling her lips with no care whose watching, drawing her onto tiptoes so he could get all of her from every angle.

"Jamie," she whispered shakily, gently pulling away. "My phone is going off every second. Mary is probably wondering why I haven't called her."

Breathe, lad, it's going to be alright. Don't lose yer cool, or ye'll drive her away. He let go and opened the car door for her, not taking any notice of the man waiting patiently at the driver's seat. "I'm sorry," Jamie mumbled.

"It's alright." She smiled in understanding, squeezing his hand. "I'll be back before you know it."

He held on to Claire's eyes, the only tangible thing he could grasp, giving him a renewed determination to manage the condition that had ruled him all his life. At that moment, the world suddenly made sense, and he was veering into a place he didn't recognise ...a place of calm, where the voices in his head had lost their dominion over his thoughts.

He watched as Christie's Land Rover drove away and was surprised when a hand landed on his shoulder. Jamie turned around to discover Willie stood there, a smile etched on his face. Jamie had forgotten about his brother, too caught up with Claire's departure and the intense emotions he'd nearly let out of control.

"Ye did well, bràthair. I'm so proud of ye."

Jamie dropped his head forward and let out an exhale, feeling a lot lighter in days. He knew he'd only scratched the surface of their relationship, but Claire was giving him all the time in the world to get back on his feet, and he was determined not to disappoint her. Though it had been a struggle not to let his emotions take control, it was at least a start. He glanced up at his brother and smiled.

"Ye alright there, Jamie lad?" Willie playfully slapped him on the back for good measure.

"Aye, I think so." This time Jamie meant it and believed his own words. He threw an arm around Willie's shoulder, squeezed it briefly before stepping back. "And thank ye for sticking around. I owe ye one."

"Aye ye do," Willie grinned. "How about repaying me like right now and coming to work. It should keep yer mind busy and help me catch up with a long list of jobs."

Jamie didn't need prodding. His mouth curved into a smile, and he nodded his head. "After seeing Christie, I think I'm in the mood for uprooting trees."

They shared a wicked glance and then laughed out loud.

Dear Readers,

Thank you all for your patience with this story and the feedback from the previous chapter.

Mental health stories are, I personally think, the hardest to put across because it involves a lot of emotions and psychological battle that are difficult to put into words. But I was determined to write this account even though it has its challenges, so I hope I've done it justice.

Part of the reason for pushing to write such a story that delves into the mind of a tortured soul is to raise mental health awareness because there are many things that people still don't understand about this illness. In saying that, some of you were disappointed by Jamie's behaviour, and I wanted that to happen to make a point.

In real life, it's so much easier to categorise and point out someone's shortcoming instead of trying to understand the psyche of a person's behaviour. From my perspective, each of us has undoubtedly suffered a form of mental illness at least once, but not everyone has the emotional and psychological strength and maturity to cope or overcome it. Nor do they have access to help. In Jamie' case, he's got a strong network of family, and he got Claire to help him get through it.

So the moral of the story is, spread kindness because you never know what really is going on in someone's mind.

For now, take care of yourselves. Until the next update ... X

#melodyheart #wonderwall #milesbetweenus #ClaireBeauchamp/JamieFraser #claire beauchamp #jamie fraser #outlanderfanfic

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haikyuuwaifu · 4 years

Text

Broken Promise

MASTERLIST

PART IV:

warning: ANGST; MILD SWEARING

A/N: THIS PART IS A TOUCH LONGER THAN THE REST

*18 Years old*

Your third and final year at Fukurodani was probably the hardest. You never really cared much for test taking or academics. More often than not you coasted on the seat of your pants; however, your parents wanted you to do well and get into a good college. Getting into a good college meant studying and preparing for entrance exams. For Akaashi, third year meant captaining the volleyball team and preparing for the entrance exams to the only school he wanted to attend. Between volleyball and studying the two of you spent less and less time together. Walking to school in the mornings was non-existent because he always had morning practice. Akaashi ended up walking home alone because you were caught up in the library or helping one of the art students with their modeling assignments. You found that you enjoyed being in front of a camera, and you enjoyed standing in a room and watching art students paint how they perceived you.

The slight distance didn’t deter you, you always made sure you texted him good morning and good night. You checked up on him during the day and when you remembered you always packed an extra bento. For all you knew, everything was fine.

Three months into the school year, you finally had your schedule down! You finally had time to spend time with your Kaashi-chan, and to celebrate that; you packed an extra bento and onigiri to split with him at lunchtime. When the lunch bell rang you made your way to your boyfriends class, sliding the door open you greet your classmates and make your way over to your boyfriend's desk. “Kaashi-chan!” you grin enthusiastically pulling the bento out of your bag; “I brought an extra bento and onigiri I thought we could have lunch together; I finally have the hang of my schedule down so we can spend more time together.” you ramble digging for your chopsticks. “Who is this jiji-chan?” you hear and snap your head in the direction of the new voice. Akaashi waves his hand in your direction. “This is [name]-chan, she’s my girlfriend, [name]-chan this is Michi-san she’s the new volleyball club manager.” “Thanks for bringing extra lunch, but Michi-san already offered because she accidentally made extra.” he states stroking your hand. You smile tightly; “It’s fine Kaashi-chan; do you want to walk home together today?” you ask sitting down picking at your lunch. He scratches his neck and sighs. “I really would, but I have longer practice to get ready for Prelims; and I don’t want you to wait for me.” “We can spend time together this weekend okay?” he asks patting your hand and resuming his conversation with the girl sitting next to him.

That weekend was the first of many weekends Akaashi broke with you.

The turning point of your relationship was six months later when Fukurodani went to nationals. Things with you and Akaashi were tenuous at best. You saw each other twice a week at this point and one of those times was for weekly family dinners. Every time you tried to spend time with him, he always managed to have plans. He was studying with Michi. He was helping her learn how to play volleyball. From the time you met her to the present she has been nothing but a stain on a relationship that spanned 11 years. You and Akaashi have never really fought throughout the entirety of your relationship. You knew each other so well there was no need to argue, because your communication was top tier. You brought up a number of times the fact that you two never saw each other anymore. You brought up the fact that all of his free time was spent with someone else. And he listened...everytime you brought it up he would coax you into his arms with kisses and soft words. He’d whisper in your hair that he was sorry and he would do better. He did do better for a day or two; and he was right back at it again, dipping out and already having plans. But you loved him...deep down you knew he was your Kaashi-chan, and you loved him with every fiber of your being.

The night before nationals you and Akaashi had a rare moment alone together. Your parents invited his family over for dinner. You both laid in the grass in your backyard pinkies touching staring up at the stars scattered across the sky. “Kaashi-chan” you whispered softly. He grunted in acknowledgement. “You still love me right?” you asked, turning to your side to look him in the eye. “Of course I love you [name]-chan” he scoffed turning to face you. “Why would you question that?” you shifted slightly. “We haven’t spent a lot of time together and before you know it we’ll be out of school and moving forward...I had to make sure you still loved me.” you whispered softly picking at the grass. He gripped your hands in his and tilted your chin up. “Of course I love you, and when we graduate we’ll both go to Tokyo University and pursue our dreams together.” he grinned stroking your cheek. You sighed into his hand. “Kaashi, I...I’m not going to Tokyo University...I’ve already talked to my parents and they said the would help cover the cost of my headshots; but I’m going to become a model.” you whispered looking him in the eye. He pulled his hand back slightly. “ How can you choose something with no stability [name]-chan, haven’t you learned nothing over the years?” he huffed sitting up. “It’s not that I havent learned anything Kaashi...I just want to do what makes me happy...and modeling makes me happy.” you state tugging him closer to you. “I don’t want to fight with you tonight, especially when you have a big match tomorrow, so can we put this on the back burner?” He nods pulling you into his arms. “I love you” you whispered. “I love you too” he mumbled as you interlocked your pinkies once more.

~Nationals~

You spent the whole of nationals in the Fukurodani cheering section supporting Akaashi. You met up with Bokuto and some old friends from Gym 3 before the games started. You laughed, you cried, and you were on the edge of your seat watching Fukurodani dominate. The last day Fukurodani was in the final match against Inarizaki. You attempted to get Akaashi’s attention so you could blow him a kiss for good luck, but he was too busy talking to Michi. You couldn’t let it get to you though; this was his big moment! You watched on the edge of your seat as Fukurodani and Inarizaki played a full 5 sets never taking your eyes off Akaashi. With great anticipation you watched as Akaashi did a setter dump scoring the winning point! You were so happy you were screaming and crying;jumping up and down with Bokuto and Kuroo. You made your way down the steps trying to get to Akaashi only to stop in your tracks at the edge of the court as you watched your boyfriend of five years swing Michi around and pull her in for a kiss. His arms around her waist and her arms around his neck pulling him impossibly closer. You watched it unfold with a sick gut wrenching feeling. Your breathing heavy as your eyes filled with tears waiting to spill. You turned and ran bumping into fans waiting to congratulate the team. You ran as far as you could stopping at a park bench; heaving over as loud sobs wracked your body.

You didn’t know how long you were there. In the moment all you cared about was the numbness of your heart as you thought back to the last five years and how it all changed in the blink of an eye. A gentle hand prodded your side, “You alright?” they asked. You shook your head curling further into yourself. You felt them wrap their arms around your back and under your legs. Picking you up they started walking in the direction they came. “It’s gonna start raining soon, and I don't think ya should be out. Ya could get sick or somethin.” You nodded along with the stranger that found you. “ Ya don’t look like ya wanna talk much, but I don’t know where I’m going” he declares glancing down at you. You sigh softly and whisper, “just take me to the closest bus stop...I’m sorry for the trouble.” and that’s the last thing you say as the two of you walk to the nearest bus stop.

Hours later you're in your bed curled up. You’ve already shut your phone off and closed your curtains. You can’t find it in you to move from the position you put yourself in when you got home. Luckily enough, your parents were out so you didn’t have to face their inquisitions. As you lay there staring into darkness you hear a tap on your window. The tapping gets louder but you don’t move. You hear a click and your window is slid open. Standing in your bedroom is the one man you don’t think you can stomach seeing. Akaashi stares at you reaching his hand out to touch you. You flinch as you try to make yourself as small as possible. He sighs and sits in your desk chair. Raking his hands through his hair he says, “[name]...it was an accident. It didn’t mean anything and it was in the heat of the moment.” he claims folding his hands together. “I've spent the last number of hours looking for you, and you have everyone worried sick.” he scolds running his fingers through his hair. You take note of how jittery he is and the fact that he can’t seem to sit still. “Why Akaashi...why would you do something like that” you ask, peeking out of your blanket. “It was an accident, like i t-”; “Bullshit!” you scream ripping the blanket off. “I saw you grab and kiss another fucking woman!” you rage squeezing your fists together. “I've been watching you for months! Making plans with her, eating her lunches, giving her your jacket...it’s like I don’t exist to you anymore Akaashi!” you scream falling to your knees tears streaming down your cheeks. He stares as you break down, shaking his head. “[name]...I don’t think I can do this anymore.” he declares as your whimpering turns into soft sobbing. “I’m going to Tokyo University, that’s always been my plan and you know that...and I can’t...Michi is the kind of woman who understands me...she understands my life plan and instead of going against it...she wants to be a part of it.” he continues as you continue to shake. “What happened to pinky promise Akaashi?” you ask between sobs. “What happened to love and be loved Keiji Akaashi!” you scream at him. He scoffs, shaking his head. “We aren’t little kids anymore [name], this is the real world now and there's no room for nonsense like that.” he pats your head. “I’ll give you a few weeks and then we can resume our normal friendship.” he states climbing back out the window. You grab the nearest object to you and throw at him screaming into the night.

PART III|PART V

#akaashi keiji #akaashi x reader #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu x reader #osamu miya #osamu x reader #osamu scenarios

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sunlightdances · 4 years

Text

Light a Flame (College!Steve Rogers x Reader)

Author: Katie @sunlightdances Title: Light a Flame Pairing: College AU Steve Rogers x Fem Reader Rating: PG-13 (for language) Summary: Big, sweet, blonde idiot Steve and slightly idiot reader. Our faves! You’re paired with Steve Rogers for a project. Captain of the debate team, track and field star, and actual intelligent man… which just made you more furious. It would be one thing if he was an idiot. But he wasn’t, and you needed an A in this class to get through the rest of the year unscathed. Disclaimer: I don’t own Steve Rogers, or Marvel. Please don’t repost my work on any other sites without my permission! Author’s Note: Special thanks to @lipstickandvibranium for reading this over for me! If you like this, please reblog and give me some feedback! Also check out my masterlist for other pairings and stories.

As a general rule, you tried not to dislike people, or hold grudges.

It didn’t do any good, even if at the time your reason for being upset was completely justified. You were considering changing your stance after meeting Steve Rogers, however.

He seemed perfect - perfect hair, perfect eyes, perfect teeth -- but you got a glimpse at the real person under the mask when you were paired together for a politics project.

He was-- you couldn’t even put it into words.

Smug.

Self righteous.

A pain in the ass.

(Also the most attractive person you’ve seen up close, with his sharp jaw and deep blue eyes, and the way he laughed--)

Okay, maybe you could put it into words. Still, it did nothing to help your situation, because you were stuck with him for the semester. Him and his know-it-all attitude.

Steve Rogers. Captain of the debate team, track and field star, and actual intelligent man… which just made you more furious. It would be one thing if he was an idiot. But he wasn’t, and you needed an A in this class to get through the rest of the year unscathed.

You stew silently as you sit in the library and wait for him. He’s almost an hour late, and you’re thinking of a million witty retorts for when he finally shows up, but it all flies right out of your head when he comes jogging into the library, eyes a little wild and hair windswept.

He spots you, and his shoulders slump. He gets to you in a few long strides.

“I’m sorry--”

“I took off work to be here today--” you start, angrily.

“I know, and I didn’t mean to be late, but I got caught up--”

“It’s common decency to be on time! Especially when one person has already rearranged their schedule--”

He almost collapses into the chair across from you, wiping his hand down his face. “I said I was sorry. It won’t happen again.”

He sounds genuinely upset, and for the first time, you’re not sure how to respond. “... Are you okay?”

He waves a hand dismissively. “Fine. Let’s just get to work.”

The two of you debate for what feels like hours. Steve wants to present a moral argument on an issue, you want to present a logical argument on the same issue… honestly, you wonder if Professor Coulson realized what he was doing when he paired you together.

After an especially long yawn from Steve, you feel your patience wearing thin. “You know what? I’m calling it. Don’t want to bore you to death.”

He looks taken aback. “Sorry?”

“You haven’t done anything but act bored and like you’d rather be anywhere else since you got here. So I’ll save you the trouble and finish the rest of the presentation myself.”

Angrily, he stands, mirroring you. “We haven’t decided on anything yet.”

“I don’t need your input.”

“Look, I don’t know what I did to piss you off so much--”

“Besides your general…” You gesture vaguely in his direction, immediately regretting it when his eyes go cold and a bitter smile shows up on his face.

He nods. “Okay. Well, I won’t keep you.”

You had visions of leaving him there, sitting there alone like he had done to you, but instead the door clicks with a kind of finality that you weren’t expecting to feel so guilty about as he leaves, and you’re alone again.

It starts raining while Steve is walking back to his apartment, but he barely notices. He’s surprised there isn’t steam coming off of him with how hot with anger and embarrassment he feels after his encounter with you.

He doesn’t understand why he lets you get under his skin this way.

He wishes you would just see him for once.

You and he have had classes together for years, but have never really been in the same social circles, or been paired up on anything together.

It doesn’t mean he’s never noticed you before.

He remembers the first time he ever saw you vividly. And he kinda hates himself for it, because while he remembers every detail of that moment, he doubts you do.

He sticks his foot in his mouth every time you come within five feet of him, and now you hate him.

He gets to his apartment and is literally dripping wet, Bucky pulling open the door before he can put his key into the lock, eyes widening.

“What the hell happened?”

“She hates me.” He hangs his sodden jacket on a hook by the door, tossing his keys into the bowl on the small table. “I was late, and I tried to apologize—”

“Jesus. How you’ve managed to mess this up so spectacularly, I have no idea.”

“Fuck off,” Steve groans, heading to his bedroom to change out of his wet clothes, seething the entire time.

“All I’m saying,” Bucky’s voice drifts through the closed door, “Is that you finally have the chance to get to know the girl, and now you can’t even get that right?”

Steve grits his teeth. “Remind me why we’re friends again?”

He opens the door to see Bucky’s grinning face.

“Because no one else would put up with your dramatic ass for their entire lives.” He follows Steve to the kitchen, sitting at one of the bar stools while Steve pulls out a bowl and some cereal.

“She wouldn’t even let me explain why I was late, and I apologized straight away… she’s impossible. We’re both going to fail this project because she hates me so much she’d rather take a failing grade than work with me.”

Bucky looks skeptical. “Why were you late?”

Steve sighs, knowing he’s going to get shit for this no matter how hard he defends himself. “I was talking to Sharon—”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” Bucky exclaims, face twisted in exasperation. “For what? For the final nail in your coffin? Jesus, dude—”

“She asked me to call her! I thought something was wrong.”

Bucky puts a hand on his shoulder, “I say this with the most love a best friend can say this with: you really have to get a grip. You and Sharon broke up months ago.”

“It’s not that easy.”

“It is when you have feelings for someone else!”

Steve groans, letting his forehead hit the counter top. “You know, she wasn’t the nicest person in the world either, but I don’t think she’s getting chewed out by her best friend right now.”

Bucky snorts. “Yeah, well. She doesn’t have me for a best friend, does she?”

MJ and Peter stare at you in disbelief.

“You said what?” Peter asks, eyes wide.

“He was late! By a lot!”

MJ shakes her head. “You told him his general existence is why you don’t like him? Girl.”

You feel your cheeks reddening. “I know, I know. I just— I got so angry, and it just came out.” You bury your face in your hands. “I’m the worst.”

“You’re not the worst,” Peter assures you. “You just suck at having a crush on someone.”

You glare at him.

You have no idea how you let it get this far. You tend to be standoffish when you like someone, because you’re afraid of the inevitable, that they won’t like you back and that you’ll be stuck pining after someone.

But the truth? The truth is that Steve Rogers has a way of pushing your buttons like no one else, while simultaneously being the nicest, most attractive person you know.

“I should apologize.” You mutter, so quiet Peter and MJ actually lean closer to hear you.

“What?”

“I said I should apologize.” You groan. “I’m never going to live this down. He’s just--”

“Super hot?” MJ finishes, eyebrow raised.

You groan again, and try to tune out the laughter of your friends.

Hours later, in the quiet dark of your apartment, glasses perched on your nose, you open a blank email.

To: [email protected] From: [email protected] Subject: Sorry

Steve,

Sorry for bailing on our project planning session today. I’m also sorry I was a huge jerk. I had a bad day and took it out on you.

Can we meet another day this week to finish up?

Sorry again.

You hit send before you can second guess it, and hope that you didn’t screw up as monumentally as you think you might have.

An hour later, a ping from your computer wakes you up, and with bleary eyes, you read:

To: [email protected] From: [email protected] Subject: Re: Sorry

I’m sorry too, for being late. And for arguing so much. I’m free tomorrow after 1pm if that works for you.

You’re surprised, but relief takes over you as you finally fall asleep.

Steve is fidgety, and he doesn’t do fidgety. He’s usually calm and collected, but he knows he was a jerk the night before, and it doesn’t sit well with him.

He’s also a little worried that you’re going to yell at him again, which-- fair, but not really what he wants to deal with.

He sees you come into the Starbucks and waves from the table he’s claimed towards the back, hoping that being in a more public place will deter you from any violence. Not that he thinks you’d resort to that. But who knows, at this point.

“Hey.” You say quietly when you get closer, dumping your bag on the empty chair across from him.

“Hi.”

An uncomfortable silence settles over the two of you.

“Look, we already emailed about it, so can we skip the awkward apologies and just get to work?”

Relief floods him. “Yeah. Absolutely.”

“Great. I’m going to order a coffee.”

You’re back in a few minutes, and start digging out notebooks and color-coded spreadsheets, and he has a minute to be impressed before you meet his eyes, arching your eyebrows.

“So this is what I’ve done over the last three weeks. I’ve got all the info here, but we need to make it look presentable. Lucky for us, you’re the art major.”

“Art history--”

You wave a hand, “You can draw. I’ve seen you doodle.”

He snorts. “Okay.”

You look at him again, “If you don’t want to, we can make it digital, but I just thought it would be better--”

Steve runs a hand over his jaw, “No, you’re right. It would look more authentic. It’s the least I can do, too. You know. To make up for yesterday.”

Steve feels you staring at him, and he fidgets again. He has no idea what you’re looking for, but he can imagine what you see. The circles under his eyes, the stubble from the few days he hasn’t shaved… he’s a mess. And you got caught up in it just by the bad luck of being his partner on this project.

“Why were you late yesterday, anyway?” You ask finally.

Steve busies himself tearing the label off the side of his coffee cup. “My ex called.”

He watches you go rigid, and for a horrifying moment, he thinks maybe he got this all wrong. Maybe you do see him the way he sees you, and now he’s just admitted that he was late to meet you because of his ex, and--

“We were together for a long time and she has an aunt that’s sick, when she called I--”

“I get it. You don’t have to explain yourself.” The spark he’s used to seeing in your eyes - especially when bantering with him -- is completely gone. He almost wishes Bucky was here to kick his ass.

You go back to organizing your notes, and the moment is gone.

He can’t help but think he’s managed to fuck this up again.

You don’t know why you’re acting like this.

So Steve still keeps in touch with his ex, so what. Why do you care so much? He said it himself, she’s got a sick aunt, and maybe the breakup was amicable, because Steve Rogers is totally that type of guy.

It’s impossible not to like him, as you’re slowly discovering.

You’re annoyed that when he admitted why he was late, it felt like getting doused in cold water. But then-- the look on his face when he saw you deflate a little… what was that about? His eyes were pleading… for what? Understanding?

Your head hurts.

You haven’t even been here for a half hour and Steve is already so far under your skin you’ll be amazed if you get out of this project unscathed.

Steve draws up some quick drafts of the posters for your project and you give him some input here and there, but the conversation is minimal and quiet.

Every now and then you can feel his eyes on you. Those big, sad, blue eyes… you’re just so confused by him. He normally seems so put together, so sure of himself, but now it’s the opposite. You can’t believe that you have something to do with it.

Because you’re no one special, or at least that’s what you think.

You have no idea that Steve would disagree.

A few days go by without any word from Steve.

A quick email is sent to check in on his progress, but that’s it. You don’t know why you feel so gloomy about it.

“What are you thinking about? Steve?” MJ asks, tossing a pillow at you from the bed across from yours.

“What?”

“You know. Tall, blonde, handsome?”

You roll your eyes. “I’m not thinking about him.”

She chuckles. “Wow. You suck at lying.”

“He’s probably busy.”

MJ narrows her eyes. “And that doesn’t bother you at all?”

You set your chemistry textbook down with a thump. “Is there a point to this?”

“You like him. You’re both idiots. You should just tell him already and put him out of his misery. Maybe then you can actually get a good grade on this project instead of trying to tiptoe around it.”

“You know what? I’m hungry. I’m going to go to the dining hall.”

You shove on some boots and a jacket and leave before MJ can say anything else that you’re not ready to hear.

On your way, your head is spinning. There’s just no way that Steve likes you. And there’s no way you like him either! You-- you barely tolerate him. You’re from two different worlds… there’s no way it would work.

Besides, it sounds like things are weird with his ex. You have no desire to get in the middle of anything like that.

So lost in your thoughts, you round a corner, and run straight into an absolute brick wall of a man. You almost fall, but your yelp startles him into action and he grabs your arm, yanking you upright.

“Shit,” he curses, “Are you okay?”

“Fine!” You squeak.

“Oh,” He says, “I know you. You’re Steve’s project partner.”

You blink up at him before you recognize him as Steve’s friend, Bucky. “Hi. Sorry about that.”

“No problem.” He frowns. “Aren’t you supposed to be working on that thing with Steve right now?”

It’s your turn to frown. “What are you talking about? I haven’t heard from him all week.” You think the hurt at Steve being basically off the grid after you thought you’d had a breakthrough shows on your face.

Bucky sighs, eyes closing, tipping his head back like the weight of the universe is suddenly on his shoulders. “What an idiot.”

“Excuse me?!”

His eyes fly open. “Not you! Him. Definitely him. Listen, I gotta go.” He takes two steps before turning back to you, his voice suddenly much more serious. “Do me a favor and don’t give up on him, okay?”

“Uh-- okay,” you say, still not really sure what he’s talking about.

He leaves and you go grab some dinner, wondering when the hell your life got this confusing.

The door bursts open and Bucky comes through it, eyes flashing. “You know, I could just strangle you right now.”

Steve glances up from his seat on the couch, thumbing through a paperback he’s already read four times. “What?”

“Tell me why I just, quite literally, ran into your project partner at the dining hall when she’s supposed to be at the library working with you, like you’ve been telling me for the last three days.”

Steve sighs. Bucky continues.

“Also tell me why she looked like someone kicked her puppy when she said she hasn’t heard from you at all this week.”

Steve clenches his jaw. No matter what he does, he keeps fucking this up. He’s not trying to hurt you, or avoid you, it’s the last thing he wants. But he has to get his shit straight before he even thinks about telling you how he feels.

“You’ve been telling me for days that you were going to study with her and finally tell her that you’re crazy about her.” Bucky sits down next to Steve, actually looking a bit angry, and not just amused like he has all the other times before. “Why do you keep doing this to yourself?”

“I had to-- I saw Sharon today.”

Bucky’s eyes darken, “You absolute--”

“I told her I can’t keep seeing her.” When it appears like Bucky is going to hold off on his tirade for now, Steve plows on, “I told her I wanted to be her friend, that I’d be there for her if her Aunt Peggy gets worse, but that’s it. I can’t meet up for coffee, I can’t text her every day like she wants. I ended it, for good this time.”

Bucky still looks suspicious. “She was fine with that?”

“I think she realized that we were still acting like we’re a couple without actually being together.”

“What are you going to do now?”

Steve pinches the bridge of his nose. “I think I have some serious groveling to do. I just didn’t want to say anything without talking to Sharon first. It wouldn’t have been fair to either of them.”

Bucky lays a heavy hand on Steve’s shoulder. “You’re a better person than you give yourself credit for, you know.” A beat. “Sorry for saying I wanted to strangle you.”

Steve laughs.

A knock on the door brings you out of your thoughts, but you make no move to get up. MJ is on her feet anyway, so she pulls open the door and you hear a few murmured words before she turns to you.

“Your friend is here.”

She moves and you see him, looking sheepish as he hovers in the doorway.

“I just remembered I have to meet Peter. To talk about the thing. Be back later.” MJ says, the traitor, and leaves you alone with Steve, who looks a bit lost as he shuts the door behind him and steps inside.

“I can go if you’re busy…” He says quietly.

You shrug. “Didn’t expect to see you tonight.”

Steve’s shoulders slump. “I know. I’m sorry.” He takes a few tentative steps towards you. “Can I sit?”

You shrug again. It figures, now that he’s actually here, you’re unable to string two words together.

“Can I tell you something?” He doesn’t wait for a response. “I was really happy when I saw we were paired together for this project. I-- I thought you hated me, and I like you, so you can imagine how much that sucked.” He hears your quick intake of breath and smiles, but keeps going. “I thought this was my chance. To get to know you, for you to get to know me. But I keep fucking it up.”

You can’t really believe what you’re hearing. Despite yourself, your heart rate picks up.

“I know I-- people think whatever they think about me. That I’m some-- some hero, some perfect person, and I…” he shakes his head, “I’ve never known how to live up to that. But when I actually wanted to be that person around you, I just turned into the biggest asshole on the face of the Earth.”

“Steve, wait.” You interrupt him, unable to handle the look on his face for another second. “We’re both idiots, okay?” Out of instinct, you reach for his hand, your decision solidified when he grips yours right back, no hesitation. “I wasn’t very nice to you either. I didn’t even try to ask if you had something else going on.”

“I’m a control freak and too competitive.” He arches his eyebrows, almost like he’s daring you to contradict him.

“I’m too sarcastic and overreact.”

“I can’t stand the thought of people hating me, so I try to make everyone happy even when it’s impossible.” He says quietly, looking down at your joined hands.

“Your ex?”

“That’s done.” Steve says, and you feel the conviction in his words, giving you the courage you need to meet his eyes again. “It doesn’t make up for the fact that I let my outside stuff influence me enough to be a jerk to you. But it won’t happen again.”

Suddenly, with more confidence than you feel, you stand, tugging Steve to his feet. “Come on, I have an idea.”

Steve follows you in a daze, his brain rapidly trying to process everything that just happened. He apologized, like he should have done weeks ago. He cleared the air with Sharon, like he should have done weeks ago.

He told you he likes you.

You didn’t really respond, but he almost doesn’t care. Because the negative tension that used to be in the air between you is gone, and you’re still holding his hand, tugging him with you to God knows where.

A stop at the coffee cart, and then you’re pulling him into the library. He looks down at you, and you smirk.

“Time to pay up, Rogers. We’re getting an A on this project if it kills us.”

Your voice is decidedly flirty, and Steve sort of feels like he’s been hit over the head with something heavy. That smile aimed at him? Designed to kill.

“Yeah, yeah. Okay.” He agrees, chuckling.

You don’t leave the library until very late.

He holds your hand again on the walk back.

Four days later, you do your presentation with Steve, and even your professor looks amazed at how it goes off without a hitch. The original artwork Steve did to help illustrate your points had people coming up to get a closer look afterwards, and if Steve preens a little at the proud look in your eyes as you glance at him, well who could blame him?

“Let’s get coffee,” he says afterwards, pulling you off to one side. He can’t get over the soft way you’re looking at him, and would do just about anything to spend more time with you today.

He’s still half worried that now that the project is done, you’ll go back to acting like he doesn’t exist.

The coffee shop just off campus is quiet when you get there, and even though you roll your eyes, you agree to let Steve buy your coffee. As he waits for your order, he watches you out of the corner of your eye as you pick a table by the window, the sun hitting your profile, and for a minute he’s totally dumbstruck.

Sitting down across from you, your fingers graze his when he hands you your cup, and he’s about to ask you out, for real this time, when you beat him to the punch.

“I never really responded to what you told me the other night.”

Steve swallows hard, trying to act nonchalant. “Oh?”

You roll your eyes. “I-- god. Stop looking at me like that!”

He can’t help it, he grins. “Like what?”

“Smug. Like you already know what I’m going to say. Do you look at all the girls like that?”

His smile softens. “No. Not all of them.”

Something warm unfurls in Steve’s chest as he watches you take in his words, your entire demeanor turning shy.

“Anyway, like I was saying--” You say, “You told me you liked me.”

Steve feels like his palms are going to start sweating. “I did.”

“I never said anything.”

“No,” he agrees, “You didn’t.”

You shift a little bit, and it sort of makes him hopeful that you seem nervous, even though the last thing he wants is for you to be uncomfortable. “I guess I-- I sort of like you too.”

Steve laughs, “Oh, you guess you sort of like me - my, oh my. How will I ever recover from this romantic confession?” He presses his hand to his heart.

“I take it back - I hate you.” You say, crossing your arms over your chest.

“No, you don’t.” He says, smug. “I think my plan worked.” He leans a little farther over the tabletop so he can grab your hand again.

You snort. “Oh yeah, your plan absolutely worked and definitely didn’t backfire at all.”

“You’re here, aren’t you?” Steve says, absolutely in awe of the feeling coursing through him right now. Is this what being smitten is like? It’s probably an old-fashioned thought, but he doesn’t care.

He tugs a little bit on your hand so you’re leaning forward too, and then he’s pressing the gentlest of kisses to your lips, holding your hand while his other hand reaches up to cradle your jaw. He thinks if he opened his eyes he would see literal sparks, and sighs when you melt into him.

“There.” He says, voice husky, as you pull apart. “Does that convince you?”

“You’re still a pain in the ass, Steve Rogers.”

“Back at you, honey.”

End

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers au #steve x reader #steve rogers imagine

199 notes · View notes

initiatingtheheadcanons · 4 years

Text

Scarlet

Author’s Note: I’ve been working on this fic since August because I’ve been shipping my Doctor OC named “ArtFall” which is my username in Arknights jfhdks and been shipping her with an Operator codenamed Shining.

Anyway, after a few revisions and showed it to two close friends of mine, I think I’m ready to share it. Enjoy!

Ao3: Link coming soon!

____________________________________________

Series: Arknights

Summary: Dr. ArtFall doesn’t know how to express her feelings for a particular Sarkaz. More or so, it seems her powers start to awaken despite having amnesia. With some encouragement from a certain Chimera, she finds a way to finally confess.

Words: 4.6k

Genre(s): Fluff, Romance

____________________________________________

Confessing isn’t easy, ArtFall is well aware of that. She’s very attuned with the other’s emotions despite being the brains behind most of Rhodes Island’s operations. Over a few months, she had taken a liking to one specific Operator. Though some of the Operators noticed, they still don’t know exactly who she’s flustering over. Rumors spread around like wildfire and ArtFall tends to dismiss anything related to the subject if asked by a curious R.I. staff or an Operator. Unfortunately for her, Amiya is the only one who figures it out and flashes a teasing smile towards the Doctor. ArtFall is impressed and flustered at the same time; Amiya having empathy powers isn't helping the Doctor’s situation. Thankfully, she always has her helmet to cover her furious heat present on her cheeks.

They are inside the briefing room at the time, occupying two chairs near the board with the written previous strategies by the Doctor herself. Amiya initiates a conversation while the rest of the squad is on the way, a spark present in her eyes.

“I think I have an idea who it is, Doctor,” Amiya starts with a mischievous smile forming on her lips. Much to ArtFall’s slight annoyance and panic, Amiya opens her mouth to say her crush’s name, “It’s Sh-“

“Hey, Amiya, Doctor!” an operator’s voice came from the doorway that remained open since the duo had entered the room. It’s Matoimaru, unbeknownst saving the Doctor’s skin.

“Hey,” Amiya and ArtFall greet in unison, the latter glancing at the Chimera who still has the playful smile.

The Oni stares at both of them and says, “Not to interrupt or anything; but what are you two talking about?”

Amiya could only giggle and ArtFall recomposes herself, saying, “Nothing important in particular. Anyways, we have important things to discuss for today’s operation. Take a seat.”

Matoimaru takes a seat on the opposite side of the table and starts chatting with Amiya. As they talk, the other Operators come in one by one - including ArtFall’s assistant, Shining, whom she gave a day off to spend time with the Followers. The Sarkaz has a pleasant smile on her face and glances at the Doctor who nodded wordlessly, taking her seat beside her.

With all the squadmates in the room, ArtFall begins to discuss the tactics against the enemies they are going to face today.

____________________________________________

After another successful operation, Amiya keeps insisting ArtFall to confess to her assistant. The Doctor wonders why she hasn’t deployed her friend somewhere on the battlefield so she could have a momentary peace. Unfortunately for the Doctor, the Operators executed her plan too well. They had seized the situation in no time, so ArtFall and Amiya could sit back and watch Reunion’s minions get obliterated.

ArtFall received reports from the squad that the area is secured and clear of hostiles, she announces the operation was successful before commanding her unit to meet her and Amiya at the rendezvous point. Gentle as ever, Amiya pulls the sleeve of ArtFall’s and somewhat drags the Doctor out of enjoyment as they go down the stairs. The Doctor keeps rolling her eyes and blushing furiously as the Chimera keeps teasing her about the particular Sarkaz.

After meeting at the rendezvous point, Amiya and the medics available make sure everyone’s injuries are treated before they get back on their designated vans. ArtFall takes one last look at her squad before taking the front seat, glancing at Texas the driver of their van. She greets her with a nod before the vehicle in front of them drives away and they too move along.

The Doctor is expecting to have a lot of files dumped on her table per usual. She shakes that thought off by leaning on her seat and listening to the chattering from the backside of the van. Most of the conversations are all about the recent operation and overhearing a few Operators are talking about their other interests. In two hours, they finally reach the Ark, and ArtFall retreats to her office along with her assistant who walked by her side, greeting her with a diffident but friendly smile.

ArtFall opens the door to her office and finds her desk piled by files again. Her shoulders hunched forward as she marched towards her desk, her eyes lingering on different files awaiting for her to read them.

“Do you need any help, Doctor?” the Sarkaz asked, almost amused; settling down her things by a cabinet and putting down her sword on a weapon rack that is mostly found in every single dorm that the Doctor has decorated.

ArtFall sits on her chair and starts reading a file, “I can manage but snacks would help me through this pile of dogsh- things…”

Shining didn’t insist any further but asked, “Shall I bring you tea and cookies?” ArtFall looks up from the file, surprised that she knows her favorites and almost sinking on the chair out of pure embarrassment. “Er, sure. T-thank you.”

With that, Shining takes her to leave, closing the door behind her. ArtFall is left alone with the files she needs to work on. After a few minutes, her assistant is back with a tray containing two cups of tea and a bowl of cookies. Shining places the tray down on the table before picking up her cup of tea. Nodding in acknowledgment, ArtFall grabs a cookie and munches on it while skimming through a file.

The Sarkaz finds it intriguing that the Doctor can keep up with work just as long as she has food to munch on and not make a mess on the table either. She pulls a book from ArtFall’s shelf and begins reading to distract herself.

- A few hours later -

It’s night time and only a few familiar lights are open in the hallway, including the familiar lights in ArtFall’s office during these hours. She mutters to herself as she tries to focus her eyes on the document on the table, fingers massaging her temples. She leans back against her office chair, closing the file at hand. ArtFall glances at her assistant, sitting on the couch and sleeping upright with a closed book clutched within her fingers.

ArtFall’s eyebrows furrowed together and attempted to remember if they had really met before, her Arts were vaguely familiar. She shakes off those thoughts, removing her helmet from her head, letting her messy hair down. She settles her helmet carefully near the pile of documents almost without care. ArtFall touches her eyepatch which conceals her power, the source of her Arts which she forgot to use; internally cursing her amnesia for the umpteenth time since she had got it.

Maybe she could ask someone around Rhodes Island to regain the control back? Dobermann is not an option, she is too harsh to recruits she contacts every week and would force her on a strict schedule. Amiya is off-limits, ArtFall could tell as she was warned by Kal’sit not to put another responsibility on the poor girl’s shoulder. Wait, what about her assis-

“Is something wrong, Doctor?” A gentle voice made her snap from her thoughts. The Doctor’s hands scrambled for her helmet with some files slipping off the edge of her table and immediately shoved it back on her head, feeling the beads of cold sweat on her forehead. Seemingly unfazed by the Doctor’s quick reaction, Shining sets the book on the couch and approaches the panicky ArtFall.

“Uh, help me pick up the files first.” ArtFall stands up to pick up the damn files scattered on the floor. Sure, she’s always been highly intelligent, but her clumsiness is all the same as Amiya describes a couple of times. Shining helps her pick up the papers and keeps them in an orderly fashion, which ArtFall doesn’t have any complaints about. After stacking them on her table, she sits on her chair again, even more exhausted.

“Doctor” Shining places her hand on ArtFall’s shoulder, “Are you alright?”

A simple question it seems but there’s a concern in her voice or… maybe she’s just imagining things? She rarely sees Shining being worried, always having calm yet have an unreadable expression.

“I’m just tired” she half-lies, hoping her assistant wouldn’t take notice. She could’ve sworn that Shining frowns at her response, not out of anger but out of iota of discontent - the corners of her lips slightly dropping from its thin line. Her hand stayed on the Doctor’s shoulder, almost squeezing as if begging and not letting her off until she told the truth. They both know that.

ArtFall gulps silently and immediately finds herself feeling guilty for lying. Well, half-lying – for the most part, she’s tired from the recent operation and scanning the files on her table for hours. The gaze of her assistant starts to weigh down her shoulders as if she could feel the unflappable intensity coming from Sarkaz's scarlet eyes.

Without a word, ArtFall sighed and reluctantly removed her helmet, Shining removing her hand from its firm place as she watched the Doctor settle her helmet yet again and, only this time, she placed it on the table carefully to not knock off the files. ArtFall sees small sparks inside Sarkaz's eyes - as if she’s amused - before looking away and awkwardly blowing off stray hair from her face.

“…I see” Shining mutters. ArtFall noticed her tone relaxed like her calm gaze, though, she’s uneasy as the medic inspects her covered eye. The Doctor gently grabs the medic’s hand and lets her touch the eye patch, her thumb brushing against the other’s calloused fingers.

“It contains a power I possessed that I had forgotten.” In response, the touch against her covered eye softens, “Perhaps you could… well, help me to regain control of it?”

The Sarkaz smiles warmly as if it’s glowing. “Of course, Doctor.”

ArtFall smiles back sheepishly and says,“Thank you.”

She subconsciously leans against the medic's palm, secretly craving for her touch, “I should get some rest now”

With that, Sarkaz pulls her hand away and ArtFall gets up from her chair. Pain suddenly began surging through her temples; crippled by the sudden feeling, she lurches forward and collapses into Shining's arms.

“I hate it when this happens,” the Doctor mutters and blushes when she realizes the Sarkaz caught her by her ribcage. She’s thankful the medic doesn't notice as she guides her to the bed on the other side of the office, ArtFall sitting while her assistant is checking on her once again.

“Nothing odd.” the Sarkaz says and prompts the Doctor to lay down. ArtFall obliges and lies on her back, staring at the blank ceiling while Shining within her peripheral view.

“Doctor, close your eyes.” the Sarkaz says softly as if whispering. The Doctor follows along and senses the medic’s hands on her temples, her headache gradually fades away and the only thing left is her fatigue. As she drifts off to sleep, she feels Shining’s hand brush some of her stray hair and feels something on her forehead in a second as if the medic leans in for a moment, followed by a peculiar scent of tea and metallic tang, possibly coming from Shining’s necklace. An embarrassing thought gradually forms in her mind but she refuses to believe it.

“Good night, Doctor”

It can’t be.

“Good night, Shining.” she mustered to say though almost like a whisper and she felt her heart flutter at the realization: Shining just gave her a kiss… on the forehead. She lays still and is tempted to open her eye after she felt Shining get up from her bed, unbeknownst that the Doctor is becoming a flustered mess.

A question boiled in her mind as her blush spread across her cheeks to the tip of her ears. Does the Sarkaz aware of her feelings or she’s feeling things because of Shining’s Arts?

She prays that the Sarkaz doesn’t see how red she is and turns her back away from her assistant, focusing on her drowsiness. Her heartbeats slow down as she gradually falls asleep.

-Time: 7:45am -

The next morning, ArtFall wakes up by the alarm followed by a short greeting from PRTS and groans as she covers the entirety of herself with the blanket. She suddenly remembers what happened last night and sits upright, cheeks flushing and she scans her office. She is relieved that Shining isn’t there; she probably just woke up before her. ArtFall pushes herself up, walks to her office table, and puts her helmet on to cover her flushed face.

The door opens behind her and she whips around to look at who it is. It’s a good thing she covered her face in time: It’s Amiya who’s holding a clipboard and a pen, wearing a usual smile on her face.

“Good morning, Doctor!” Amiya says cheerfully, closing the door behind her, “How's your eye? Shining told me you requested her to regain control over your Arts.”

“Well,” ArtFall starts, cheeks still flushing underneath her helmet, “I just wonder how my Arts works or at least get the hang of it”

“Mhm,” The Chimera hums teasingly. “To spend time with her?”

ArtFall remains silent for a while and raises a finger. “Yes and no”

Amiya grins wider this time and clutches on the Doctor’s sleeve. “I genuinely believe that you are planning to confess during one of your private sessions, is it not?”

Wait, was that a suggestive joke, or Amiya is messing with her on purpose? She couldn’t hide anything from her empath friend that she likes Shining that much and there’s no point in lying. She mentally caved to her defeat and is ready to deal with the fallout as much as she hates to admit it.

“Amiya, please don’t let anyone know,” ArtFall admits, embarrassed as a smug Amiya clings to her shoulder and shakes it ever-so-slightly. “I don’t want the other Operators to know, hell, even Kal’sit”

Amiya lets go of her grip on ArtFall’s shoulder, looks at her clipboard, and walks towards the door whilst facing the flustered Doctor. “I won’t tell anyone, Doctor. If you don’t, I’ll make sure everyone will know about it!”

It’s a tease, ArtFall knows her friend is teasing but she had her arm outstretched to stop the Chimera from hiding from her sight.

“Amiya, don’t-!” Doctor shouts so suddenly and Amiya only giggles before closing the door behind her, ArtFall let her outstretched arm down in frustration and quietly cursed herself for being so bad at this.

____________________________________________

-Time: 1:17pm-

It’s already afternoon and ArtFall heads to the cafeteria to grab a quick lunch. Shining is dealing with a debriefing along with other Control Center assistants so the Doctor has to do things on her own for an hour or two.

The cafeteria isn’t packed as she expected, Operators probably dealing with their respective tasks or it’s already late to have lunch. A few Operators greet her as she passes by and go back to their conversations. ArtFall scans the available meals and frowns at the choices. Though not a particularly picky eater, the choices provided by the assigned chefs are needed to be consumed in the cafeteria. She grabs two sandwiches and packs of coffee sachet because she ran out of stock in her office.

“In a hurry, Doctor?” Gummy says, holding up her pan, “I made that one special!”

“Thanks, Gummy,” ArtFall says as she begins to walk away.

“No problem, Doctor!” Gummy exclaims and continues with her cooking, happily humming a tune.

ArtFall walks on the hallway alone with her helmet’s shield up, munching on her sandwich. She holds Gummy's cooking in high regard, recipe blending so well as they melted perfectly in her mouth. Before she could enter the office, Shining is on the other side of the hallway, having a conversation with Amiya. The Doctor slips into her office speedily when Amiya sees her and closes the door back to its frame, with her leaning against it. She sighs and continues eating her sandwich on her hand while staring at the files on her table, she is halfway through everything.

As she pushes herself away from the door, it opens - bumping on her back. She immediately steps out of the way and comes face to face with her assistant who seems to have been slightly tired from the debriefing.

“I apologize for bumping on you, Doctor,” she says with a hint of fatigue though her face remains calm as she closes the door - the doctor only noticing she’s holding a laptop that’s obstructed from her view due to the Sarkaz’s robes.

ArtFall gulps a lump of chewed sandwich and says, “Hey, it’s no big deal”

She gets back on her chair and continues to work as usual while her assistant checks on the logs recorded on a laptop she probably borrowed from the Control Center. ArtFall glances at her and the Sarkaz’s face remains blank most of the time until she sees something. She began typing swiftly, - almost unnoticeable to most people - but the perceptive Shining doesn’t miss a particular log. ArtFall’s mentally notes to herself she’s going to read the updated logs later and continues to finish signing the file on her hand.

The Doctor began to feel sleepy, her eyes struggling to focus, and fell asleep on the table, her head resting on her folded arms.

After scrolling through her medical logs, Shining glances at the Doctor and sighs, signing off the R.I. network before shutting the device. She placed it in one of ArtFall’s cabinets since the latter needs to read the logs she had typewritten.

The Sarkaz hears the Doctor snoring from the desk and finds herself amused that the Doctor could sleep like a log. A long-forgotten, warm feeling resurfaced from her chest; the one she felt from years ago which is dampened by the wars she participated in.

“How...za… feeling…?” the Doctor murmurs in her sleep. Shining has never seen this before throughout the many months of working with her. “It’s...no...good...zzz”

The Sarkaz sighs to herself and carries the sleeping Doctor onto her arms; she’s surprised that ArtFall is lighter than she looks. She carefully lays the Doctor on the bed, thankful that she isn’t awake and still sleeping like a baby - which she finds adorable. The helmet is removed carefully, ArtFall’s purple strands scatter on the pillow in all directions and Shining settles the helmet on the nightstand.

After putting a blanket on ArtFall, she heads to the office desk to sort everything out. A few files left astray, she notices, and most folders are already alphabetized. Three, yellow sticky notes are placed on the top of the desk once she cleared everything up, the writings are a bit messy but eligible enough to be read if one looks closer.

Note 1: Files of Dur-nar is chek chek, no need to worry :) Note 2: Reminder: Received private logs from different Operators, I’ll read them later.

The last one, however, has strikes on it.

Note 3: Am Amiya, if you’re reading this note, I’m hoping you keep your promise. And, no, not yet.

The Sarkaz isn’t the type of person who’ll intrude into people’s lives, especially with the promises. She wondered no longer and stood up from the desk to sit on the sofa, glancing at the Doctor, who was facing away from her, still snoring softly.

She stays up until it’s late, distracting herself with books - keeping her awake long enough before she starts to doze off. The still quietness was interrupted by another murmur from the Doctor herself from the other side of the room.

“...Can’t...say…” ArtFall murmurs slurrily but intelligible enough to understand, “...Do…love...her. Don’t… be.. Silly, Amiya...erkkzzz”

It’s obvious at this point: ArtFall likes her from the very start. Shining feels the low glow of her Arts due to her welling feelings at the thought of the Doctor, small contentment, and relief rest upon her chest. The feelings are mutual and she couldn’t help but smile to herself as she lays down on the couch and drifts off to sleep, her glow remains the same.

-----

-A few days later-

ArtFall is pumped to test out her Arts for the past few days even though she wasn’t sure if it’s going to work or not. Only a handful of Operators that she trusts know her condition and she’s thankful that they still keep their promise up to this day.

With enough motivation, she finished all the files - ranging from recruitment to operation debriefing - given to her with the help of coffee sachets she got from the cafeteria days ago. Still hyperactive from the caffeine, ArtFall sits back and stares at the two stacks of files on the right side of her desk, amazed such motivation would make her finish the files within four hours of that day.

ArtFall slips a hand on one of her pockets, pulling out a comm device to call her assistant. She waits for a few minutes after pressing the button, nervous and excited at the same time: she’s going to learn Arts… for the second time if it counts.

There’s a knock on her door that made her snap from her gaze.

“Come in”, the Doctor says almost enthusiastically, her intuition telling her it’s her assistant. The door opens. Shining walks in and stops momentarily at the doorway, there is a spark of astonishment in her eyes.

“You seem to have finished everything early today, Doctor,” she says, closing the door.

ArtFall smiles sheepishly behind her helmet. “I am just excited about learning Arts, well, for the second time, I guess?”

The Sarkaz chuckles softly and smiles. “Let’s get started.”

The Doctor removes her helmet for once and becomes nervous to remove her eyepatch, afraid to unleash her Arts. Shining keeps reassuring the Doctor that simple Arts like hers wouldn’t even hurt a fly. That encourages ArtFall to finally remove her patch, exposing her scarred, red-eye to her assistant. The medic takes a closer look at ArtFall’s eye, she could see some uniqueness within the eye but she doesn’t question any further.

At first, the Doctor struggles to grasp the concept. It only took an hour for ArtFall to make any progress by projecting the Arts through her pen. The two have experimented with the available materials inside the office and ArtFall chose her pen out of all things. The energy released from the tip of the pen is small, circular energy which dissipates in a matter of a few seconds.

“I did it,” ArtFall says, partially exhausted from releasing energy, “Ugh, I’m still getting used to this.”

“I’d recommend taking a rest, Doctor,” the Sarkaz says calmly as she guides the Doctor to the couch. As she sits, ArtFall lifts a hand on her right eye, her small smile still present from the small accomplishment.

“I didn’t know I’d lose a bet I have with Amiya that fast,” ArtFall chuckles to herself, looking at Shining. “I...I’m still a bit nervous about saying it.”

The medic could only stare at ArtFall before the warm feeling on her chest rose yet again; Shining truly enjoys her company and knows the fact that the Doctor is ready to admit her feelings.

ArtFall begins to fidget, looking away from her assistant, her lips tight and tapping her free hand on her knee. After gathering enough courage, she stands up, her mind coming up with words she had kept at the back of her mind for months.

♫♫(music)♫♫

“I...okay, don’t be surprised.” ArtFall inhales, preparing for anything that will come out of her dry lips, “I… think... l...love you.”

ArtFall’s got to admit, there’s no other way out but to steel herself and take a shot. Even for a tactical genius like her, Amiya outsmarted her with the bet.

For now, all she could do is hide her face entirely on her palms and attempt to hide the blush spreading on her cheeks. She anxiously waits for Shining to react, any reaction will do. They have been standing still seemingly for ages until she is pulled into a hug, almost flinching from the sudden touch.

“I know, Doctor,” the Sarkaz leans close to her ear to whisper. “I found it out myself.”

ArtFall settles her head, along with her hands, on the other’s shoulder. “...How?”

Shining smiles warmly at herself, amused that the Doctor, a genius, hasn't even figured out what happened yet. “I heard you talking in your sleep. I apologize for listening in.”

With that, ArtFall opens a gap from her fingers to peek. “Y-you… what? Well, uh, talking in my sleep isn’t in my control so...”

“I would’ve guessed,” the medic replies delicately. “I find it… endearing.”

They stayed still for a few more seconds before the Sarkaz whispered once more to ArtFall by her ear, “Close your eyes, Doctor.”

ArtFall almost didn’t catch her words but she obliges, settling her arms on the medic’s shoulders, almost clutching on the Sarkaz’ black robes out of nervousness.

These are the same words she said nights ago before receiving a forehead kiss.

She could feel the medic’s whole upper body leaning down slowly and steadily. Her assistant’s scent greets her like that night, this time, however, with the reminiscence of a book that has been recently bought with an underlying scent of metal.

It’s a mere second before she could register what the Sarkaz would do, the Doctor felt her lips pressed against the medic’s. ArtFall tenses at the contact and melts on the kiss right away, her assistant pulling her in a tight embrace to calm her down. The Doctor feels her heart hammering against her chest as if it likes to burst out of her ribcage and lets out a small whimper against the medic’s lips.

Shining momentarily opens her eyes half-lidded and makes sure to pull the Doctor in a deeper kiss before closing her eyes once more, her embrace loosens as she relaxes. ArtFall eventually finds herself relaxing her tensed shoulders along with her fingers, unclutching the robes and held to the Sarkaz’s shoulders. She leans her head further to her left as their tongues momentarily entangle before ArtFall pulls away from their kiss for both of them to have a breathing room and settles her head on Shining’s shoulder once again, catching her breath. She’s captivated yet flustered on what just occurred as she never experienced this before or… has she forgotten entirely how it feels to love someone romantic wise? She buried the said thought under and pressed her head further into Shining’s embrace.

Shining, on the other hand, rests her head against the other’s hair and lips almost press against the Doctor’s forehead. After a whole minute of enjoying each other’s embrace, Shining finally breaks the silence.

“Doctor ArtFall, I do find myself enjoying your company and have mutual feelings for you,” the Sarkaz says, corners of her lips pulled into a small smile. “I cherish you like nothing else.”

ArtFall, despite being flustered and still having her head pressed on her assistant’s shoulder, figured out that the Sarkaz is speaking in a different language of “I love you”.

The Doctor lifts her head from the other’s shoulder to meet her beloved’s scarlet eyes. She smiles at the realization and every fear in her mind slipped away, finally able to say the words without any weight of dubiety attached to it.

“I love you too.”

♫♫(music stops)♫♫

Thanks for reading!

#arknights #arknights fic #arknights fanfic #arknights x oc #shining (arknights)#i'm really nervous to post this ao3 maybe i'll do it in the weekend kjfhskjdfh #so i'll just post it here instead #to the res-q

3 notes · View notes

kim-seungmine · 5 years

Text

let’s go home together

title: let’s go home together

characters: (fem) reader x i.n/yang jeongin of stray kids

word count: 4692

genre: slice-of-life, romance, high school au, emo!jeongin i guess

synopsis: jeongin is heartbroken and you’re in love. separated by two different feelings, both of you soon learn about how blurry the line between the two is.

a/n: i planned this to be longer tbh. nevertheless, here it is! this story is pretty straightforward, i hope you’ll like it! and this is a i’ll hold your hand spin-off so you’ll see some familiar stuff! (you can read this on its own!)

Yang Jeongin doesn’t know why it’s called “broken heart” instead of “destroyed heart” or “ruined heart” because seriously, he feels his heart has been shattered into a million of pieces and the word “broken” will never be able to represent how devastated he exactly is.

Everyone—especially high school students—has experienced at least 1 painful breakup but this is never what Jeongin expected to feel. His English tutor Kim Seungmin said that first breakups always hurt more, but he never mentioned that it would hurt this bad.

“What are you doing here?”

Jeongin glances at his surroundings, narrowing his eyes when he sees you standing at the door, your backpack slung over one shoulder. He’s seen you somewhere he can’t remember, but Jeongin is sure you’re also a sophomore. “Can’t I be here?” he responds with an icy tone that makes you furrow your brows.

“Everyone is welcome here,” you answer. “But you are aware that this is the Arts club meeting room, right?”

“Do I look like I would suck at drawing? Aren’t you guys supposed to support one another because there’s no right and wrong in art?”

You rub your temple. “That was just a yes-no question,” you pause to look at his nametag, “Yang Jeongin. Are you usually this irritable?”

“No,” he sighs. “Sorry.”

You shrug, setting your art supplies near the easel in front of Jeongin’s. “Whatever,” you mumble. “As long as you don’t break things, feel free to come.”

Jeongin has been kicked out of every single club he joined after his breakup for fighting every single person in the room (or court) and almost destroying the baseball club’s bat, but that’s another story for another day.

For now, he just desperately needs a place to make him forget.

It’s been an hour since Jeongin decided to join Arts club, and surprisingly he hasn’t snapped at anybody else but you. Lee Minho, the club’s tutor, looks like he won’t give a shit even if Jeongin burns the whole room down and the other kids don’t even bat an eyelash at him. He enjoys pouring all the rage and sadness he has in him onto the canvas; it almost feels like a therapy.

Minho stops in front of him, examining his work before tapping his shoulder. Jeongin has no idea how Minho ended up in this place. One look at him and he knows Minho will forget everything everyone in this room says in 30 seconds. “Now Jeongin, our newest member, could you tell us anything about your painting?”

Jeongin takes a glance at his painting (that wasn’t exactly a painting, just bold splashes of colors) as the whole class keep their gazes on him. He knows none of them actually cares and that’s what he wants: being honest without having anyone asking him questions.

“I’m just angry,” he answers. Minho nods, “And you definitely didn’t hold back. Amazing, Jeongin, but I hope you’ll feel better soon.”

Minho’s tone is almost nonchalant, but Jeongin appreciates the fact that the older boy doesn’teven bother pretending to care. Putting all his belongings back into his bag, Jeongin stops when Minho reaches you. “Your turn, Y/N.”

You clear your throat, stealing glances at Minho as you’re talking about the importance of small kind gestures. “So, if you’re wondering why you’re so easily annoyed by small matters, it’s probably because you never really stop to appreciate the little joys in life.”

Minho hums in approval and your cheeks flush a little. “Well, in that case, you opening the classroom for me today definitely made my day better. Thank you Y/N.”

You only respond with a small smile, but the look in your eyes gives everything away. You have a huge crush on Lee Minho, and Jeongin wonders when you will realize that Minho won’t return your feelings. Was his relationship this obvious too? Did other people notice that it wasn’t working?

Was he the only one who was blind?

Life itself is a rollercoaster ride, but the speed doubles when you’re in love: one second you feel like you’re on top of the world, but it goes down before you can even reach out to the sky. It gives you a taste of excitement, of fear, of happiness, but the moment you want to savor those feelings, the ride ends. Leaving you all messy and nauseous.

You love painting, you love getting your hands dirty as you mix colors and swipe your brush on the empty canvas. But not when you have a tutoring lesson in 10 minutes. Seungminnever likes it when you stain the worksheets he prints with so much care although it happens all the time and there’s nothing you can do about it.

“When will your lazy ass hand in homework on time?!”

Your brain registers that voice as Seungmin’s, but you remember e-mailing your homework to him last night. And since when is he calling you “lazy ass?”

“How did you know that I’m here?”

“Maybe it’s time for you to hide your Instagram Stories from me.”

“How much does my Mom pay you? Why are you even more demanding than she is?”

“Enough to drag you back to Busan and make you beg for her forgive—hi Y/N!”

It turns out that Seungmin isn’t scolding you, but the angry boy you just met. Jeongin mouths a quiet, “Ah so that’s where I saw her!” before turning to Seungmin. “Why are you only harassing me?” he quips.

You continue to watch them snap at each other, almost failing to return Minho’s wave as the latter quickly slips past the bickering—they’ve started yelling now—duo. You don’t know why you’re still standing there; maybe it’s because of the way Seungmin returns Jeongin’s snarky remarks with sass you’ve never seen before.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Seungmin.” You tap his shoulder to grab his attention. “I have to go home now.”

“Oh wait!” he exclaims. “I’ve been meaning to tell you this, but next week I’ll start intensive practice for our next baseball match and the schedule clashes with your session. Since you two apparently know each other, can I combine your sessions together?”

Jeongin snorts. “You’re in your last year. Why are you still in the team?”

“There are 2 reasons. One, nobody is a better pitcher than I am and Seo Changbin is desperate. Two, I want to do it.”

“When’s your session?” you ask Jeongin when he’s about to start another war with the older boy. English looks like an easy subject, but it really isn’t. You’re not a top student, and you don’t want to lose Seungmin. He’s a great tutor and also a dependable big brother you wish you had.

“Every Thursday.”

“I’m free on Thursdays, so it’s fine.”

Seungmin lets out a sigh of relief and pulls both you and Jeongin to his sides. “Let me buy you dinner, my children!”

Ten minutes later, you’re munching Subway’s meatball burger while listening to Seungmin’s so-called lecture about moving on. “Don’t force yourself to move on. What you’re doing right now will only hurt yourself more,” he says.

You prop your elbow on the table, watching Jeongin’s expression hardens as Seungmin takes another piece of French fries. Talking about feelings with your English tutor and a boy you barely know feels rather weird. Usually you just hop from a circle of friends to another without really being a part of them. Feelings never get involved, except maybe with Minho.

“I’m fine. I’m over her,” Jeongin emphasizes, squeezing his paper cup as he downs the rest of his Cola. “Can we please talk about something else?”

“What did she say to you?”

The idea of separation confuses you more than the idea of falling in love. It’s not entirely because of the person leaving you—you’re used to that—it’s about the feelings that linger. You’ve never been in an actual relationship, but you know about heartbreak all too well. When your best friend from the orphanage you live in got adopted, you felt it. The pain of being left behind. Then someone else left and you felt it again. Soon, it became a routine.

The exact same feeling, with the same amount of pain, but nothing more.

Jeongin huffs, glancing at Seungmin who nods in approval. “Nothing. She just said that she doesn’t like me anymore… which is bullshit. I must’ve done something wrong.”

“Is she dating someone else now?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Maybe that’s all there is to it. She simply doesn’t like you anymore.”

Seungmin clears his throat, patting your hand as a sign to stop talking. “How is that possible?” Jeongin counters.

Seungmin is now gripping your wrist, but you ignore him. “People get bored, Yang Jeongin. Even parents get bored of their children. I’ve seen people returning the children they choose by themselves before the adoption is finalized just because they don’t feel like it anymore.”

“What she means is—”

“You mean I’m boring and not likeable so I should just shut up because she was bound to dump me anyways?”

“Why do you always make conclusions before people finish talking?!”

“But you said it yourself! You, who don’t have a boyfriend or even a friend of your own!”

“Stop it, both of you.”

The tone of Seungmin’s voice, people’s stares and the suffocating silence that follows immediately shut you up. You gather your things, blinking your eyes rapidly so no one will notice that you’re crying. “I’m sorry,” you quiver. “Forget everything I said. And thanks for the burger, Seungmin.”

Jeongin’s words keep playing in your head as you’re catching the last train, and you realize that you have nowhere and no one to come home to.

Seungmin is already waiting in the library when Jeongin shows up. “Where’s Y/N?” he questions.

“Please don’t give me that look,” Jeongin dismisses him, opening his laptop. “I tried, okay? I tried going after her but I couldn’t find her.”

“We’re not starting until Y/N is here. I’m responsible for both of you, but you have to apologize for being such an asshole last night,” Seungmin states. There was a time when Jeongin thought being an asshole sounded cool, but now his heart just feels heavy.

“Have you ever been an asshole to someone?” he asks, almost too quiet for Seungmin to hear.

“I don’t know, does liking your best friend’s soon-to-be girlfriend count?”

“You’re supposed to be my life guru but you’re asking me this basic question?” Jeongin scoffs. “Liking someone is never a crime… as long as you don’t make a move to steal her or anything. Does this girl like Hwang Hyunjin? Or Han Jisung? But no way, Han Jisung only has eyes for Lee Chaeyeon.”

“Bingo,” Seungmin sighs. “And how do you know my friends so well?”

“Hi guys. Sorry I’m late.”

Jeongin looks up, meeting your puffy eyes. You look like you cried yourself to sleep and he makes a mental note to actually apologize to you this time. He’s not an asshole, especially when he’s had firsthand experience of being hurt (and dumped).

He quickly pulls out a chair for you, trying to make his intention to make peace crystal clear. “I went to sleep straight away last night. Sorry I didn’t do the homework,” you tell Seungmin who only smiles at you. “It’s fine, Y/N. We’ll go through it today.”

“I’m sorry.”

Jeongin cringes when he hears his own voice because it’s supposed to sound calm and sincere, not desperate. “I’m gonna sabotage the class for 5 minutes,” he informs Seungmin before turning to you. “I’m taking back everything I said last night. I know what’s done is done and you probably won’t believe me, but it’s not true. And thank you, for being honest with me.”

You glance at Seungmin who’s looking at you as if you’re about to burn Jeongin to ashes. “I’m not gonna kill him, Seungmin. Don’t worry,” you chuckle, and soon the three of you are laughing like there’s no tomorrow.

“I think it’s better if you find out now than later. Maybe it hurts less this way.”

No, it fucking doesn’t. Being rejected before you actually confess still hurts just as bad. Probably even worse. Does Minho hate you that much? Are you that annoying that Minho decided to straight up reject you when you haven’t planned to tell him about your feelings?

How did he know anyways? Was it because you baked him cookies that one time? Was it because you recommended him to your teacher when the school needed a new tutor for Arts club? Was it because you bought one of his cats a new collar?

…. damn. You were obvious.

Now, hidden near the parking lot, you’re crying your heart out—ignoring your ringing phone. Getting rejected sucks, but it’s still nothing compared to having a break down in front of other people. You hate crying in public; you swallow everything up and become one of the toughest students at school.

But you’re nowhere near tough, you’re just too stubborn and too prideful to let people see your true self.

“You’re really something, aren’t you?”

You look up—with bloodshot eyes and runny nose—to see Jeongin hovering over you, hands on his hips. “Out of all places you could choose, you chose to cry behind these bushes. You really think no one will hear you if you’re wailing here?”

“Shut up,” you groan. “How did you know that I’m here?”

He rolls his eyes. “I told you. Everyone can hear you sobbing from a meter away. For someone who wants to stay hidden, you’re loud.”

His face turns a little pale when you bury your face into your knees again. Jeongin crouches down, brushing fallen leaves on your head before cupping your cheeks. “Let’s go home.”

Yang Jeongin isn’t your friend. Well, both of you are in the Arts club and he’s also in Kim Seungmin’s English tutoring group, but he’s not your friend. You two just happen to have helped each other a little, and seeing that he no longer punches anyone or anything in his way means you must have done something right.

Yang Jeongin isn’t your friend, so how does he make you feel better with just a simple phrase?

“Why? Do you want to do something else? Cake? Movies? PC Room?”

You shake your head, letting him pull you up. “Do you even know where I live?”

“Nope.”

“What if it’s faraway from your place?”

He shrugs. “Doesn’t matter. We can still go together, can’t we?”

“Yeah, sure.”

Jeongin lets you lead the way, swiftly enveloping your hand in his when you start sniffling again. “Was this the first time you got rejected?” he asks, as if the said event happened a long time ago. He cracks a smile when you scowl at him. “Stop making fun of me.”

“I’m not!” He lifts his hands in defends while still holding yours. “Trust me on this, you’ll feel better after you talk about it,” he continues. “So go on, talk about his pretty eyes, his sexy thighs—”

“Are you sure you’re not the one having feelings for Minho?”

“…his powerful, soulless stare that opens the portal to another universe, his zero interest in teaching us arts because let’s face it, he’s a shitty tutor.”

You’ve been heartbroken for 30 minutes, but you can already see how it weakens you. The fact that humans can be so easily swayed always scares you, but you don’t want this moment to end. You want to stay like this, walking to the bus stop with Jeongin’s hand wrapped around yours in a tight grip and talking about nothing else but Lee Minho. You want to keep looking into his sparkly eyes as he listens to your rambles. You want to remember his soft voice convincing you that beautiful days will come soon.

Jeongin probably means none of them, but all the words he says sound like a promise, like a seed planted inside your heart.

Whether it will bloom or not, you have no idea.

Whether Jeongin is a rebound or a new love, you have no idea.

At least not yet.

grumpy: im outside

Nothing really happened during your way home. Besides trying to make you stop crying, Jeongin didn’t do anything—only holding your hand until you arrived at the orphanage. He played a game of soccer with some of the little kids before heading home without saying a word to you. No scolding, no snarky comments, no words of encouragement, nothing.

But now, standing in dark, wearing his pink Converse, he’s something and everything you need. Before Jeongin can say anything, you’ve run to him and wrapped your arms around his waist. You expect him to push you away, or at least yells in shock, but he only returns your hug. When you begin to sob into his shirt, Jeongin presses a kiss onto your hair.

“The power that Lee Minho has,” he finally whispers. “He made our Ice Princess cry like this.”

“I never said anything about Minho. Were you really following me?” you croak, trying to look into his eyes before he hugs you even tighter. The moment you hear his calming heartbeat, he begins to ramble about how “ungrateful morons” like Minho deserve nothing but a middle finger. Jeongin whisper-yells all kinds of curse words he knows in your stead, occasionally rubbing your back everytime you seem to shiver in his hold.

When he eventually pulls away, you’re a mess. Being with Minho makes you feel light and giddy—away from your worries. Being with Jeongin makes you feel the exact opposite; he keeps you on the ground like gravity, reminding you that the world is often harsh and unwelcoming. Strangely, you can’t get enough of it. Of him. Whatever his real intentions may be.

“Why are you here?” you blurt out, chuckling when he fails to answer. “Do you pity me that much? Or do you just want to welcome me to Yang Jeongin’s Broken Heart Club?”

“Do you really like him that much?” he asks instead, sparkly eyes clouded with something you can’t fathom.

The question remains unanswered until you wake up in the morning, his voice echoing in your head.

As much as he wants to be good at saying goodbyes, Jeongin has to admit that it’s something he’ll never get used to. Whether it’s saying goodbye to his family in Busan after every visit, saying goodbye to his big brother when he enlisted, or even saying goodbye to a stray cat he meets outside his house.

Jeongin hopes the next time he gets his heart broken, he won’t end up this pathetic.

Seungmin is graduating today after getting into Seoul National University, living up to his “perfect, almighty Kim Seungmin” nickname. Saying goodbye to his English teacher shouldn’t be hard, but Jeongin’s heart hurts a little at the thought.

He spots you from afar, carrying a huge painting you both made the night before. Jeongin jogs to you, taking the painting into his arms. “I hope no one laughs at it,” you mutter quietly.

“I think people will be scared,” Jeongin laughs. “It’s a puppy wearing uniform for God’s sake. What do you expect?”

You huff as you enter the auditorium filled with parents, teachers and the graduates themselves. “And whose idea was that?”

Jeongin grins, putting down the painting at the corner of the room before ruffling your hair. “Mine.”

Your eyes light up at his cheekiness, and he realizes nothing scares him more than having to say goodbye to you.

“Today’s our graduation day, and I kept debating with myself whether I should do this or not.”

Jeongin stands on tiptoe to see the stage better, gasping when he spots Seungmin standing there.

“Thank you to our headmaster for letting me do this.” Seungmin stops to bow at the headmaster, causing everyone to do the same. “I know I don’t usually sing, but I’d like to perform this for all of you: for those who want to let go, for those who want to start fresh, and for those who just want to have fun. This is First Time.”

Seungmin’s sweet voice bewitches the whole auditorium, including you. Jeongin watches you intently, his smile gets wider with each “Whoa!” that escapes your lips. At times like this, you look like an innocent child who only knows the beauty of the world.

“Kim Seungmin has gone insane,” he comments, letting his shoulder brushes with yours. You glance at him, your lips slowly forming a pout. “Why? He sounds good.”

Jeongin points his finger at another girl in the crowd who’s singing along to the song with Hwang Hyunjin, one of the most popular seniors at school. “This song is for that girl,” he explains. You widen your eyes when you let the lyrics sink in. “He’s… breaking up with her?”

“Are you kidding me? He has no chance against Hwang Hyunjin.”

“Where did you get this information?”

“The perfect, almighty Kim Seungmin showed up at my uncle’s house at 3AM and begged me to let him weep over his one-sided love in my room.”

There seems to be a lot of things you want to say, but now Han Jisung has joined Seungmin on stage. You cheer along with the crowd, singing along to the lyrics while trying not to cry. Jeongin averts his gaze back to the stage so that you could cry freely. He meets Seungmin’s eyes at some point, and Jeongin wonders when Seungmin learned to say goodbye with such sincere eyes.

“Do you think Seungmin will be okay?” you mumble when the song ends. Seungmin and Jisung give everyone one last bow before running down the stage, carefree smiles on their faces. Jeongin ponders your question, looking for the familiar ache he himself has been feeling for months.

It’s gone.

“He will,” Jeongin finally answers. “Maybe not now, but he will.”

“I assume that you guys know I won’t ever hang this in my room. Or anywhere in sight.”

Seungmin examines the painting you and Jeongin give him, grimacing as he tries to brush off the dry paint on the dog-slash-human’s face.

“Jeongin did that,” you retort. “Actually all of this happened because of him.”

“This will give me nightmares,” Seungmin protests with a huge smile on his face. This won’t be the last time you see Seungmin because he will always have time for a Day6 concert and so will you, no matter how many part time works you have to do in order to go. Even so, you still have tears rolling down your cheeks which makes Jeongin pouts.

“I can’t believe you’re crying over Kim Seungmin.”

Seungmin smacks his back playfully. “Awww, is our baby jealous?”

Jeongin flushes deep red and Seungmin yells at his friends to wait for him. “I have to go,” the latter says solemnly. “Don’t kill each other. I know how much you kiddos wanna kiss each other so do just that, okay?”

“I’m gonna kill him instead,” Jeongin mutters under his breath as Seungmin leaves. His sharp words jab at your heart, harder than Minho’s words and it makes you feel everything you’ve been trying not to feel for the past few months.

“Jeongin.” You tug on his sleeve, looking down when he searches your eyes.

“Does Seungmin graduating really made you this sad? He’s only a phone call away and he loves you more than he loves me and—”

“I didn’t like Minho that much,” you whisper. Jeongin gapes at you, pulling you closer to him as you fumble with your skirt. You lift your head up to see him trying to stop himself from grinning, tightening his grip on your wrist.

“Minho volunteered at the orphanage a year ago, and he still comes often now. When everyone found out we go to the same school they introduced him to me. And being with him was so easy. He was nice,” you tell him.

Jeongin scoffs. “Well, define nice.”

“Why did you stay in Arts club?”

His silence gives you more courage, so you look directly into his eyes this time. “I bet you wouldn’t last 10 minutes if the tutor was someone else,” you conclude. “It was the same for me. Minho never pities me although he knows where I came from; he never even looked at me in pity. That’s probably because he doesn’t care—”

“You’re right, he fucking doesn’t. The most soulless creature in this universe.”

“... but it made me comfortable. I feel comfortable around him. But I guess that’s it.”

“You, meanwhile, make me feel all kinds of things. At first I thought it was because Minho rejected me, but the more I see you the more I realized that it’s not just me looking for a rebound. You confront me, but yet you’re always here somehow. Whenever you didn’t show up at tutoring session or club meeting I became worried. When I don’t see you I’m always wondering whether you feel better—because you deserve to feel better. Your breakup doesn’t define you, Jeongin. Well, you like to cut me off when I’m talking and you’re really annoying sometimes, but other than that, you’re cool.”

“Minho doesn’t like me that way, and while it hurt I got over it pretty fast. “Losing” Minho didn’t affect that much, I’m used to goodbyes anyways. But I’m afraid that I’m gonna lose you, and I think that says a lot about how I really feel about you.”

You take a deep breath, your cheeks starting to blush as Jeongin only stares at you in shock. He squeezes your hand after what seems like an eternity. “I have a confession to make,” he declares. “I hope this won’t ruin things for us but promise me you’ll listen, okay?”

“I did pity you. I know you don’t really have close friends although you do have a lot of friends. Your feelings—or whatever you call it—for Minho were so obvious and it was also obvious that he didn’t feel the same. I gotta admit that made you look pathetic.”

“But I was even more pathetic anyways,” he quickly adds when you pinch his waist. “I tried to stop myself from doing… everything I’ve done, but I just couldn’t stop myself. I did happen to hear your conversation with Minho and I did follow you then, but it was because I felt that my heart broke along with yours. And you cried, goddamn it. I hate seeing you cry.”

“That was why I came to see you again that night, but you cried even more when I was there. I’m not sure if I helped you feel better.”

“You did. I slept well that night,” you say.

He smiles, causing you to poke his dimple. “I’m also afraid to lose you, Y/N. This is cheesy, but I want to see you smile everyday—especially if you smile for me. I want to go home with you everyday, I want to play with the kids at the orphanage while they tell me about how amazing you are. I like you, and I want you to be happy, I guess. And I want to make you happy, if you give me the chance.”

Both of you are blushing like mad now, facing each other awkwardly, but you don’t want to change anything. This is worth all the blushing.

The shyness eventually subsides and now Jeongin’s looking at you with a teasing glance. He pulls you into a hug, kissing your temple tenderly when he thinks nobody is watching. “Let’s go home,” he mumbles. “Together.”

You snort into his shoulder. “You’re saying that as if we live together or something.”

“Home is wherever you are, babe.”

As cheesy as that sounds, Jeongin’s probably right. The two of you found each other in the most confusing time of your lives. And in this big, scary world, having someone to come home to is one of the most beautiful blessings a person should cherish.

234 notes · View notes

whichwaytowonderlandep · 5 years

Text

Lotus

Pairings: (Taehyung/Reader)

Genre: Smut, Romance(?)

Words: 8,226

Tags: Qetesh/Egyptian Goddess AU, College AU, non-idol AU, oral sex (both giving and receiving – because that’s important), Taehyung is a needy boy and things are not that hardcore. This is still a smut fic though.

The summer solstice was one of the most anticipated party of the year. A party where people can dress up as ghouls, fairies and all sorts of mythological monsters and party the night away — drugs and heavy drinking going hand in hand with bad decisions and low morals.

It was the only thing people have been talking about for the last two months. Even now as your answering the last question of your final exam, you could still here them mumbling to each other.

You didn’t understand what all the excitement was about. You’ve been to at least one high school party before, but all you experienced was sitting down in a chair while your friend, being the social butterfly that she was left you with a drink in your hand as she flirted the night away. You were left to find a way back home on your own when she decided to leave with a guy she’d been crushing on for a week and not forget to tell you about it.

It wasn’t a nice experience.

It was the exact kind of party you would much rather avoid going to.

You make your way out of the classroom, finally turning in the last exam of the semester. The weight that has been sitting on your shoulders to get a good grade finally lifting and you could feel as if you could finally breathe. You make your way down the pretty empty hall, most of the students still in their classrooms finishing their exams.

You were ready to just sleep for the next thirty days before doing absolutely anything else.

Three years ago you had decided to move to one of the busiest city in your country, three colleges in the same vicinity sharing the same clubs, apartments and restaurants. You just so happen to live outside of the city, in one of the best high rise apartment building your father’s money could afford. You had accepted it as part of his rules to letting you go to the college of your choice and to being on your own for the first time in your life – no maids, no butler and no one to do things for you.

You wanted to experience the part where you take care of yourself, of being in a classroom with other people instead of alone with different teachers, to not have someone come in the morning and relay your schedule for the day. The first few weeks, you quickly realized It wasn’t as easy as you thought it was going to be– having to learn everything from scratch. The first attempt at cooking you had almost burned your kitchen down, but after three years of living by yourself you had gotten the hang of it.

It took you thirty minutes by bus to get home, pass the building’s security at the front desk. “Welcome back, Miss (Y/N)!” They greet you as always, earning a nod and a shy smile of acknowledgement thrown in their direction before heading towards the elevator.

You punch in your security code, now feeling exhausted as you start thinking about how close to a warm bath and long naps you actually are. “Just a little longer” You assure yourself.

You live in the penthouse, a choice your father made as it meant you shared the floor with no one. He had taken every security measure to make sure you wouldn’t be in any danger – his money, his reputation and his business making his family a target.

The ding of the elevator waking you up as you drop your bag on at the front door, kicking your shoes off the moment you step out of the elevator and into your living room. “Finally!” You groan out, stretching all over as you throw yourself onto one of the large couches – facing out to the large windows. This building was surrounded by others, but not as tall as the one in front of you. There were only a few people living there at the moment, the building being new enough to remain empty for the first couple of weeks.

The penthouse across from yours was the first one to be sold. You didn’t know much who was living there, but with the bright lights on at night and their inability of using their curtains you found out pretty quickly who had been living opposite you.

A man going by the name Kim Taehyung. You had heard people around you gossip about him and his friends. How they were incredibly good looking and talented in the fields they chose to study in. Taehyung’s name was the one that kept coming up around you. He was an Art History major with a minor in business – which is why you shared most of your classes with him.

For what you could tell, Taehyung was the kind of guy to take his studies seriously, but still have enough time to party during the weekend. He had his shit balanced, unlike you.

The only thing you would hear from other students was who was he dating that week – man or woman, and who he dumped and how brutal it had been. The man who, unabashedly, stands proud in front of his window wearing nothing but an open silk robe, who would bring the occasional one night stand into his apartment and fuck them against said window. The one who is currently getting a blowjob while looking out the same window. Wait – you pause for a second.

You squint your eyes, rubbing the tired from them as they widen at the scene in front of you. Taehyung stood in leaning with one hand against the window, eyes hooded as a man kneels before him. The bobbing movement of the latter giving you a clear idea of what he was doing. Taehyung’s face remained stoic, a beer bottle resting in his hand that he would occasionally take a sip from.

You could already feel your face burning up as you blush at the scene before you. You sat frozen on your couch as Taehyung pulls the hand resting on the window and entangles it in the man’s blonde hair – hand gripping tightly, you thought he was going to rip the hair off the man’s scalp. You watch the erotic way he closes his eyes, letting his tongue run against his bottom lip as his hand began moving in a back and forward motion. A thrust of his hips and a satisfied smirk painting his face as he reaches his orgasm before looking down at the man in front of him.

Your body felt hot after watching the scene in front of you. You also felt like a giant pervert, but how could you look away when he’s rolling his shoulders back and throwing his head back like his a sexy pornstar. Your eyes moving up and down his body, watching the other man standing from his kneeling position – nothing but buttcheeks in your direct view and for the first time you notice that both of them are very very naked.

It felt as if you were in a trance that broke the second you made eye contact with Taehyung. You shriek, if out of embarrassment before flinging yourself off the couch and into your closed kitchen in an attempt to get flee. To get away from this whole situation.

You had very much forgotten that if you could see everything then he could clearly see you.

“Stupid” You groan out, heading towards the sink before splashing some water on your face. You felt like throwing up at the thought of the embarrassing moment of just being caught watching them. “It’s fine. It’s just your imagination. There’s no way he saw you.” You reason with yourself, feeling your heartbeat slow down. It’s not like you personally knew the guy, so you could just pretend you saw absolutely nothing and forget the whole thing never happen.

Yeah, that’s exactly what you were going to do.

You groggily walk into the kitchen in search of something to quench your thirst, feeling sleepy even after taking that three hour nap. After you had come rolling down from the top of embarrassment hill, you had fallen asleep in your room while watching television.

It was already nighttime by the time you had woken up, the apartment bathing in complete darkness as the lights coming from the moon casts shadows all over your living room.

Your mind starts going back to the moment you witness by looking out the window. Cheeks turning red in second hand embarrassment as you try to erase that image from your mind, but with no luck.

You snap out of your thoughts by the sound of your cell phone ringing somewhere in the room, knowing already who it was as they would always call at the same time of the night. You head back into the kitchen, going straight to the glowing light stuck in between the couch cushions. Your mom’s name flashing across the screen and your prediction correct as you answer the phone.

“Hey mom” you tiredly greet her, throwing yourself back on the couch because knowing her, this call was going to last a while.

“Hey, sweetheart! Have you eaten anything today?” She asks straight away, her heavy accent seeping through the phone — not giving you a chance to answer before she was asking another question. “How were your exams? Were they as easy as you thought they would be?”

“Yes I ate, they were fine. What did you really wanted to ask me?” You answer, throwing yourself back on the couch and staring at the ceiling. “Are you going to come home for the summer?” You smile as she asks the same question she asks every year. You would visit whenever you could, but you would never stay longer than a week at most.

“I don’t think I’m gonna be going this year, mom” You sigh out,knowing that being honest now would save you a lot more later. “Maybe the week before classes start, I’ll let you know” you assure her.

Of course, you miss your mom. She was the one who had encouraged you to become more independent as you were growing up, even if that meant you would be leaving the nest one day.

But every single time you step foot in your childhood home, you feel this overwhelming sensation of having everyone around you – having gotten used to spending so much time alone. You and your mom spent a few hours on the phone, talking about nothing and everything that had happened back at home.

“I’m going to call you back, I’m about to have dinner.” You hurriedly say, blowing a kiss through the microphone before saying your goodbyes and hanging up.

You stand up, stretching as you feel all of your body relax at the feeling. You already had the idea of going out and getting something to eat, there was no way you were going to take the time to cook again. So convenience store food is the best idea you could come up with.

You make your way to the elevator, sliding on your shoes as you wait for it to arrive.

You were still wearing the same clothing as this morning, feeling the air grow colder as you reached the convenience store around the corner from your apartment building.

You say ‘hi’ to the girl behind the counter, having already seen her plenty of times before when you had taken study breaks for the last three weeks. You headed straight to the noodle isle, eyes tiredly searching for the one you had an inkling for.

Your immediate attention staying on the matter at hand, paying no attention to the rest of the store as you went to the cash register to pay.

You should start to learn how to keep an eye on your surroundings, because as you wait for the microwave the finish heating up your food, you also had an almost-heart attack.

“You enjoy the show?” A deep voice startles you, making you jump at the sudden sound so close to you. Your hand instantly lands on your chest, trying to find some type of composure.

You turn around to meet the one and only fucker, Kim Taehyung. Your cheeks turn red almost instantly as the taller man stands before you in the small isle.

His hands were shoved into his hoodie, his face pulled into a serious expression where you couldn’t tell if he was kidding or not.

But with the way it felt as if he was staring deep into your hollow soul you were positive he was talking to you.

“Uh…” Your mind goes blank as he leans forward, standing now inches from you as his eyebrows furrow and he squints his eyes at you. “I-I’m sorry” you involuntarily giggle, nervousness sipping into you. “ I think you might have the wrong person…?”

You hated how your voice got suddenly high. Something that happens every time you got nervous around other people – which is why you avoided any type social interaction as possible. You didn’t want to be known as the girl that spoke so high that she could mimic a sound only dogs could hear.

Taehyung tilts his head to the side, a smirk appearing on his face as he notices you blushing. He knew he had seen you before, the way you were blushing red and how you were clearly avoiding his eyes was enough to confirm his previous suspicions. He wasn’t expecting in finding you so soon after – you look different up close and in person.

“So you did enjoy it then!” He leans back, smiling wide as he stands over your smaller form. “I didn’t know I had an audience” Taehyung chuckles, his eyes never straying far from your face as he watches you get even more red. You didn’t handle confrontation well, did you?

“If I did I would’ve put on a better show” His voice drops to a sultry tone, making you finally snap your gaze to his.

Taehyung winks, shoving his hands back into his jacket before leaving you alone in the aisle. You jump as the microwave beeps behind you, kicking you out of your frozen state.

You turn to lean back at the against the counter, confusion settling in. “What the fuck?” You whisper to yourself, the cool air coming from the vents doing wonders to your heated skin.

You had gotten back to your apartment a little after the stores around you begun to close down for the night and the last of the party goers made their way through the empty streets.

Everything felt as if you were experiencing it in a dreamlike stage–getting greeted by the night guard, punching in your code and then everything stops.

You don’t remember when exactly you had fallen asleep, let alone when was the moment you had reached your bedroom.

You’re paralyzed, the room cold enough that you could see your breath appearing in front of you. Your chest heaves as your breathing starts to quicken, tears in your eyes as you try to scream out.

That’s when you notice it – the menacing black smoke floating above you. You had never felt more scared in your entire life, a year falling down the side of your cheek as the black smoke lowers in above you. You want to cry out, scream at it to go away, for someone to help you and yet no one comes to your rescue.

You try to speak, forcing yourself to make a sound — any sound at all. But the black smoke began filling your lungs prevented you from crying out. It slowly consumed you, leaving you feeling vulnerable.

Your body felt as if it was floating on clouds, your mine drifting off into nothingness and at precisely ten thirty four that night, your heart stopped beating.

You wake up, grass caressing the bottom of your hands as move them away from you. The sound of running water not too far from you, and the sound of iron hitting iron as the skilled craftsmen went to work. You open your eyes, the morning sun shining down from above you. You look around as you sit up, the thin cotton dress that you wore keeping you cool in the harsh heat.

You were in a field, lotus flowers surrounding you and small houses not too far from you and yet it was peaceful and quiet. You had no shoes on, so as you stood up and made your way out of the feel you could feel the grass tickling the bottom of your feet. Your long hair moving behind you as the breeze blew right at your face.

You didn’t recognize the place, the people, nothing and yet, you felt at home here. As if you had been called here.

You continue to make your way out of the field, the smell of iron being melted and the rest of the merchants trying to make some profit to feed their family for the night.

You were but just a visitor in that moment, the people around you continued to stare as you make your way through of the crowd. The sound dissipating as your surroundings begun to change – you were suddenly surrounded by marble and pillars of fire. The soft, shiny floor felt cold against your naked feet and the dress you were wearing changed to a more revealing one, small golden chains going the middle of your chest and gold dust glimmering from the flickering fire.

You make your way down the hall, ignoring the longing looks you got from the guards. Not that they could comment on anything, you were under the pharaoh’s protection. You continue to make your way to the grand room, people of all ranks enjoying themselves in the main room where most festivities were held.

Food and wine being passed around in trays by woman wearing intricate face masks. You dismiss the ones that approach you with a wave of your hand – your eyes settling on the man of the hour. The party was just a formality, a reason to bring all of the eligible high ranking ladies into the palace for the young prince to take his pick of wives.

V, as you’ve come to know him, sat at one of the lower thrones – looking as if he was bored out of his mind.

Your focus didn’t last on him very long, as the exotic dancers begin to move across the dance floor. Their bodies moving sensually to the music.

Your eyes return to V, watching him let out a sigh as he throws his head back.

You were right to come here, being summoned only three days ago, you had yet to make your true presence known. To them you were just another visiting dignitary.

You were the type of goddess to come in unannounced watch the people around, study them and then meddle with their life. You would lower their inhibitions, make the fears they had about themselves disappear and making them feel immense pleasure instead.

As V’s eyes meet yours through the crowd, you know that he is the one who called you here.

Your eyes remain close as the sound of music fills your ears. Your hands sliding up the side of the satin bed sheets around you – pushing back on it, your hands holding you up as you finally open your eyes.

You were surrounded by groups of people, naked people. The flames of the torches placed on every wall dancing across their bodies as lips met lips and soft moans coming from both men and women filled the room.

Your golden eyes bright as they move across the room. You stand up, catching a glance of you in one of the silver plates sitting beside you. You were dress in black robes, golden chains and gold painted symbols drawn on your body.

Warm wet lips met the side of your neck, leaving soft kisses in their wake. “You’re here” A deep and familiar voice rumbles from behind you. His hand moves to your stomach as he presses himself into your back. “I was worried I had to wait longer to feel your skin pressed against mine” He groans out, his lips brushing against the side of your ear. You could his member against your back and instead of feeling uncomfortable in the moment, you could feel yourself getting wet with anticipation.

Your left hand reaches up to grab onto his long hair, making him groan against the side of your neck. You pull at it as you detach yourself from him only to be met with hungry and sharp green eyes. “V” his name leaves your lips in a whisper.

You watch as V smirks, hands itching to touch you, to be near you. He was being compelled by you, what he was already feeling for you was enhanced in some way. All he wanted was to be near you. “I made this party for you; just for you” He continues, eyes scanning over your body with hunger in his eyes.

“I love what you’ve done with the place” You affirmed. You really did enjoy waking up to the scene in front of you. Man and woman with all of their inhibitions lowered as they delve into their deepest sexual desires. Your smile widens as their moans fill the room, your attention moving back to the blonde man that seems desperate to have yours.

“What a good boy you’ve been” You declare, running your hands down the side of his cold cheeks. He stood in nothing but a pair of long pants as he nuzzled against your hand. “You deserve a reward” You watch his playful eyes light up at the mention of a possible reward.

You grab onto his hand pulling him along with you to the side, where you knew the thin curtains would give you some type of privacy. You sit on the edge of the bed, pulling him closer to your body as you look up at him. “What do you want?” You give him the choice, watching as his smile widens and he kneels down before you. “What is your deepest darkest desire?” You whisper, your hand coming down to caress his jaw, tilting his head upwards.

Your eyes snap open as your forehead is drenched in sweat even if your room remained as cold as before. You were no longer trapped against your bed as you now sat up to lean against your headboard. You still felt that dominating presence around you, making you push back the sheets with your feet as you scramble into the bathroom. Brushing your hair away from your face as you move to throw cold water on your face.

Your eyes meet someone else’s in the mirror, only to scream out loud as another version of you looks back. The initial fear dies down; your body feeling more and more relax with the yellow eyed woman in front of you. It was like another version of you. A better looking version of you.

“Who are you?” You camly question, still feeling weary at the site in front of you. None of this felt like a dream, the reality of the situation resting on whether you were really going insane or not. “I go by the name Qetesh.” Your voice answers you back, “The goddess of nature, beauty and...sexual pleasure.”

You were not expecting that. Of course, you’ve heard from her in history class– the only time she was mentioned was as the wife of the god of war. “Why is it that I’m only known for being beside a man?” She… You ask.

“We’re sharing the same body and mind, don’t look so surprise when I respond to your thoughts”

“Am-“

“You’re not on drugs” Qetesh cuts you off, smiling back at you. The whole situation strangely eerie.

“You’re also not hallucinating or having a weird dream and the faster you come to terms with the faster I- I mean, we can have some fun.”

It took you another ten minutes to get your head wrapped around everything, making you snap out of your thoughts by clearing her throat.

“Now, since we are clearly going nowhere. I’ll make you a small proposal.” She declares, leaning forward on the marble counter in the mirror. “If you may grant me control of your body, I’ll make sure your deepest desires come true. Preferably, the more sexual ones.” She stops, taking the time to read what you actually thought of this whole situation.

“Oh, no I don’t force anyone. I need permission” she says, as if that was a fact.

“I only make the scary go away, like over thinking and fear of being naked in front of someone. That way they can truly enjoy themselves.”

“That’s exactly what you were thinking, right?” A smile.

You think back to all of those moments in the last three years of having complete freedom and how you chose each time to stay in your apartment. It wasn’t for a lack of trying on your classmates, in your first year you had been approached and invited to various groups and parties. It was your own fear of eventually getting rejected that made you push away and decline any sort of invitation to do some actual socializing.

After the second year, most of the same people stopped trying. Moving on to the next freshman and only saying the occasional ‘hi’ as they passed by. By your third year, all of them had already moved on and the only people you interacted with were the ones you had projects with, outside of that your social was very non existent.

You look back at the soul in the mirror, it knew exactly what you were thinking and yet it stayed quiet as you tried to make a decision. It wasn’t forcing you to do anything, but this could be an opportunity to experience new things with having to feel like you’re doing everything wrong.

“Is that a yes?” Your voice echoes against the empty bathroom walls. You accept with a nod, “I will need you to say it out loud, or it won’t work”

You hesitate for a moment, but as you look back at your own reflection everything you were sure that this was what you wanted.

“I accept”

The decision didn’t take long, the moment Qetesh had full control of your body – you knew that you were just along for the ride. You watch as she raided your closet, picking out a dress that your mother had given you on your birthday in hopes that you would finally go out partying with your friends. You had hung it up in your closet and completely forgotten about it.

It didn’t feel crowded in your head, no headache longer in sight as the both of you argued about the very sexy looking dress. “It’s not like I need to wear that dress to lounge around my apartment” You try to reason with her, doing absolutely nothing stop her. Still having some type of control over your body.

“Who says we are just staying in all night?” She puzzled. “There’s a party tonight, a Summer Solstice if I am remembering correctly.”

Your eyes widen at the idea of going to that party, “Relax, I wouldn’t let anything bad happen to you” She assures, “I’m in here with you, remember?”

She was right. Stop worrying, (Y/N) - you thought to yourself. So you take a metaphorical sit in the back of your mind and watch attentively as she gets ready and struts her way into the elevator.

It didn’t take long until you were back into the bustling city, headed to the one party of the year others had been talking about nonstop.

It was being held in an old abandoned hotel, known for renting out the big rooms for college graduations and weddings. No one ever knew the reason for why it closed down, but they didn’t care as a place where anyone could do whatever the fuck they want was readily available.

You weren’t in a costume as the rest of the party goers, but you never felt as if you were out of place. The music was pulsing off the walls of the old fading ballroom walls, the crowd in front of you jumping to the sound and sweaty bodies connecting with each other as their hips moved to the beat. This was exactly what you were expecting.

You made your way to the makeshift bar, smiling at the bartender as you instantly catch his attention. You take a sip of your drink, leaning with your back against the counter as your gaze moves around the crowd. “Funny seeing you here” A voice that should’ve startled you says from your left, yet you turn to the side with a calm demeanor as you gaze up and down the man in front of you. “I didn’t think this was the type of place you would show up”

Taehyung looks back at you, a different hair color from the blonde he was sporting earlier – lilac, it suited him. You watch as he takes a long sip of his beer before glancing back at you.

“You changed your hair” you acknowledge with disinterest. Qetesh moving to lean on her side, facing the tall man. “You look better” you shrug, leaning your head against your hand as you stare at his side profile. He was a familiar looking man; as if the other soul sharing your body could recognize him from her past lives. He would always find her, whether it was intentional or not. Whatever it was, it was pulling you closer to him. Like a magnet to metal.

“And you actually have curves under all those hoodies. I guess we are learning things tonight” He replies, looking away from you and towards the bar.

Your hand reaches out, one finger moving down the back of his. You could feel him instantly relax under your touch, eyes closing shut.

In that moment, you could feel what he wanted and you were incredibly turned on. He was thinking of you.

Which in itself surprised you, but on the outside you became the playful girl you had always imagine yourself to be.

“Is that why you approached me?” You lean in close to him, close enough that your heart begun to beat faster and the loud music became just background noise compared to it. “You know, contrary to popular belief, if you want your crush to notice you… you should probably just talk to her and not be an asshole.”

Taehyung snaps his eyes towards you, the smirk no longer painted on his pretty lips. He chuckles after a few seconds, albeit nervously, regaining his composure before taking another sip of his drink. “I have no idea what your talking about” He nonchalantly defends as he looks back at you with furrowed brows.

“Oh, baby. I know.” You bat your eyes at the speechless man in front of you. From one touch you could see the last two years from his point of view.

From him staying long nights in the library, watching the girl concentrate so hard on her book report that she had forgotten to take a break and him leaving snacks in the private desk you had rented, staring down at your sleeping form — watching you snore away.

The moment where he had first seen you, walking into class with your class schedule in hand and sweater paws hiding you from the cold air in in the room– thinking, she’s cute. Only to have you walk right past him and to a group at the back that had waved you over, never even sparing him a glance. Or the time he had run into you leaving the college campus—it was early fall, golden leaves falling all around as he took pictures for a school project he had to turn in. He saw you across the quad and decided he wanted to save that moment. He still has those pictures he took of you surrounded with the beauty of nature.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about” You chuckle; finally turning away from him. After all that time, you didn’t think anything of it. You were just as clueless when it came to the opposite sex.

Taehyung didn’t know what to do in that moment, staring at the side of your face, the lights hitting you in just the perfect angle. This had been the most he had talked to you since he had first seen you.Maybe it was the alcohol or the way your sweet perfume was intoxication him but he couldn’t stop the next words that came out past his lips. “You want to get out of here?” He blurts out, not giving the invitation a second thought.

“Sure”

Taehyung had taken you back to his apartment. The smell of cologne strong and lingering everywhere as you enter the living room, heels in hand. “Do you want something to drink?”

You shake your head, looking back to see him awkwardly pointing to the kitchen. “No, I’m good” You decline. You head towards the window, looking out at the city skyline and more importantly, a direct view into your apartment. You imagine that he must’ve seen all those times you had wandered around your underwear, listening to loud music or just sitting at the balcony sipping hot chocolate during the cold nights.

Taehyung watches you, hands crossed against his chest. He would have never imagined that you would be standing there.

Sure, he had his fair share of woman...and men, but you felt like a rare and refreshing sight to behold. “Are you just going to stand there all night?” Your voice startles him, turning around to face him. “Are you nervous Mr. Kim?” You slowly make your way towards him.

Taehyung chuckles, smile wide as he keeps your eyes on you as you drop your shoes to the side — a resounding thud filling the deafening silence. You stood right in front of him, “ Since when are you this confident?”

“Since when are you this shy?” You retaliate, a playful smirk on your lips.

Taehyung weighs all of the possible outcomes, he could kiss you right now and have you push away from him in disgust or it could be the kiss he would always imagine it would be.

The silence between the two of you was comfortable, even a little playful as you both simply stood staring at each other. Daring the other to make the first move.

And then his lips met yours.

As you look into his eyes, Taehyung was sure he saw them flash a fierce yellow color. He didn’t think much of it as he notices you slowly stalking towards him, like a lioness to her prey.

He couldn’t move from the spot, his body stuck in place and rigid as he stood tall.

You begin to circle around him. Your eyes trailing over the white silk blouse and dress pants the barely cling to his well built body.

Your hand moves down the expose line between the silk blouse he was wearing. You could feel him shivering underneath your fingertips even when his face remained completely stoic. His breathing heavy as your finger kept going lower and lower until you were gripping his semi hard erection in your hand.

Taehyung’s body shudders, his eyes tightly closing instantly. Your grip hardens around him, enough elicit a sound from him but not enough to hurt him. You could feel his member move underneath your hand and against the clothing as his mouth drops open in ecstasy. It was you making him feel all those wonderful things, you were the reason he was hardening and twitching under your touch –making you smirk as you stare back into his half opened eyes.

“Please..” Taehyung whimpers, his hips thrusting slightly into your hand.

“Please what?” You tilt your head to the side as you sound authoritative and yet a slight playful. “Use your words, baby. Tell me exactly what you want.” your smile sweetly when you see his eyebrows furrow, his breathing getting heavier with each passing second. A sight that you find is making you on every passing second.

You love watching men crumble in front of you, but you had to admit that his face was one you definitely considered a work of art. You knew he was conflicted to act submissive in front of you, being used to being the one to take care of his partner. But you could see his true desires deep down – Taehyung wanted to know what it would be like to not be in control all the time. To be told what to do. To be taken care of. To be used by you.

You take your hand away from him, needy eyes quickly finding yours in a silent request for you to keep going.

You slowly walk back to the bed, looking back at the younger man behind you. Taehyung’s eyes swept across your body, his shoulders rolling back as you lay down on the satin sheets as you hinder him to come forward with just a finger.

Taehyung quickly walks closer to you only to be stopped by your foot on his chest. He bites his bottom lip, looking down your leg, hair falling in his eyes as his hands reach up to rub at your ankle. “You didn’t think it was going to be that easy, did you?” You tease him once again, pushing against his chest you lean back — opening up your legs as you push the dress away to the side. You watch as he gulps, having you on full display in front of him. “First, I want you to do something for me”

“What can I do?” His gruff voice resonates in the quiet room. “What do you need?” He continues, eyes moving down to your now exposed center. “I’ll do whatever you want” he breathes out, dropping down to his knees as he feels another wave of pleasure wash over his body. He moans out, feeling uncomfortable as his member hardens against the silk of his pants. Taehyung had no idea what had gotten over him, but he needed this to happen. He wanted this to happen.

“I want you to be a good little boy.” You lean forward, your finger under his chin as you lift his head until he was looking at you straight in the eyes. “And tell mistress what you want.”

“I want to worship every inch of your beautiful body” was Taehyung’s immediate response. You watch as he fidgets, eyes moving back to your crossed legs. His breath hitching as you spread them wide, “I think I’ve tortured you enough”

Taehyung leans in even closer, your foot resting against his shoulder before sliding the other one to do the same. You could feel him lay open mouth kisses on the inside of your thighs, teeth nipping at the flesh and tongue swiping out her and there. It made your body tremble at the feeling of his hot breath against your wet center.

“Do me a favor and put that tongue to good use” you let go of him, your left leg moving over his shoulder – pulling him closer to his face closer to your center. You feel him lay his tongue flat on you, his lips instantly wrapping around your clit as he starts to suck on it. He lets out a low moan, sending out vibrations all over your body.

You let out a sigh, feeling his experienced tongue push inside you. Taehyung begun to lick at you like a man starved for years as you run your hands through his dark hair. His large hands grip onto your thighs, nails digging into your flesh as his nose grinds into your clit.

You throw your head back, laying back on the bed as your legs wrap around his shoulders. One of Taehyung’s hand leaves your thigh, sliding up the side of your body and up to your breast. His grip lightens as his finger flicks against your nipple, eyes staring at your flushed face under his lilac bangs.

Taehyung pulls away with a pop. Resting his head on the inside of you right thigh, his eyes not leaving yours as his other hands slides in between your folds. You can feel him push one of his middle finger inside of you, feeling him curl it as he begins to pump it in and out of you at a painstakingly slow pace.

His fingers pinching at your nipple sending a wave of electricity through your body. “Fuck, you taste good” He growls, his mouth diving back down on your clit as he adds another finger inside of you.

Qetesh was enjoying the moment as if this was just an everyday occurrence, but you felt like your body was heating up. Being touched so intimately for the first time, everything was new and exiting – you wanted to feel more of it. Fuck, you needed to feel more of it.

As if reading your thoughts, Taehyung add another finger, three fingers moving quickly as he pulls his face off of you. His fingers start of slow, gradually gaining speed until he was going hard and at lighting speed, making your legs shake and your back arch at the feeling of your orgasm washing over you and over Taehyung as he continued to with his attack on the most sensitive parts of your body. The squelching sound where you were both connected filling the room as your mouth opens up in a silent moan.

You gather enough strength to grab onto his wrist and push him away, closing your legs together as your orgasm continues to pass.

Taehyung sits back on his knees, smirking as he admires the way your body had crumbled underneath him. He smirks, his thumb rubbing at your ankle as he waits for you to come down from your high. He swipes his thumb at the bottom of his lip, sticking it back in his mouth getting another taste of you – waiting anxiously in front of you for whatever you had planned next. You lean back up on your forearms at the man in front of you, standing up on shaky legs before looking straight down at him.

You can’t help but run your fingers through his hair, pushing it back and exposing his forehead. His eyes looking up at you as his tongue swipes out to lick the bottom of his lip, your hand moving down the side of his full cheek and to the underside of his jaw. You tilt his head up, thumb running across his full bottom lip as you pull him up to stand at his feet — standing up with him.

You look up at him, hands moving to the side of his fitted silk pants and tugging at the fabric as you look down — erection already pushing hard against the fabric. “Take them off” you softly say, an order that sends a chill of anticipation down his spine before his movíng to get rid of the annoying clothing item that’s been causing him nothing but discomfort since the moment he entered the room. As he kicks it off of his feet and across the room. “You’re like a work of art” you praise, giving him the once over as you move closer to him.

Taehyung stood there proudly in all his naked glory, watching as your hands move to his collarbones. Your finger slowly slides down the tan skin, over his broad chest and his hard stomach. You instantly stop, moving your hand away as you watch his member twitch in slow anticipation. It was longer than you expected, albeit less girth than you had imagine.

Your gaze moves to meet his once again, “Lay on the bed” You whisper, flicking a thumb under his chin before moving away.

You circle the bed, as Taehyung jumps on it – sliding up to lean slightly against the headrest.

Your knees dip into the bed, slowly crawling over him. Your lips landing on his left hip bone, moving to the his lower abdomen – feeling it tighten under your soft touch. You continue making your way up his body, leaving a trail of kisses in your wake as you finally meet him face to face.

The two of you stare at each other for a moment before your lips meet his, soft and delicate as they mold with yours – tasting yourself on his tongue before your pulling away.

“I think after what you’d did for me, it’s only fair that I return the favor” You whisper against his ear, not waiting for a response before your sliding back down his tan body.

“Please just touch me” He asks in a small voice, his heart racing a mile a minute as his eyes fluttering close – feeling your warmth breath on his shaft. He didn’t think beneath the awkward and shy girl next door was this sexual goddess that had managed to get him hard with just a touch. He was hot and sweaty, his member was achingly hard and at this point he only had one thing on his mind, to cum.

You grip onto the base of his member, looking back at him. His body was tense under your touch.

You don’t waste time in seeing his reaction as you wrap your mouth around the head of his member. Your cheeks hollow out as you moan out at the taste of his salty pre cum on your tongue.

Taehyung’s whimpers fill the room as you slide your mouth down his member, hitting the back of your throat halfway. Your own hand traveling down to your clit as you bob your head up and down his hard member, letting up moans that only seem to make him shudder underneath you at the vibrations he felt.

“M-more” He whimpers out, leaning back on his firearms as he watches you pleasure yourself as you pleasure him. Your other hand moves away from the base of his cock to his neglected balls. Your hand tightens slightly around them as your movements increase in speed. “I’m gonna cum” Taehyung tried to say, his abdomen tightening as he feels one of the best orgasms he has ever had. Or would have had if you hadn’t pulled away so abruptly.

“What are you doing?” A look of panic enters his face, you weren’t just going to leave him like that, that you weren’t going to let him finish.

You don’t answer his question until you’re pushing him back into the bed and you’re sitting over his stomach. “Relax, Baby Boy. I just want you to cum somewhere else.” You grind your grind yourself against his painfully hard member sitting against his stomach, feeling his hips jerk upwards as you continue your movements.

You grip the base of his cock, sitting up on your knees as you push the head inside of you. His eyes moving to where the two of you were connected, watching you slowly slide down his cock.

Taehyung was a mess, wet strands of his lilac hair sticking to his sweaty forehead as his large hands grip your hips. Your movement begin as small circles, feeling full at the intrusion but still feeling total bliss at how the two of you fit so perfectly. Your hands lay against his chest as you begin to pick up speed, moans leaving your lips as his hands grip at your flesh — making you go faster.

Taehyung couldn't help but love the melodic sounds that came from you, he wanted to hear more of them. His eyes travel up your body, finally moving away from where the two of you connect. His eyes moving to your breasts, watching as they bounce with every thrust you made, to your face, to the hair sticking to the side of your face and how your head was thrown back in full and simple bliss.

In his mind, you were a masterpiece. One where he suddenly had the urge to take pictures and frame them for himself —for his eyes only. And as you begin to grind your hips hard against his, he sits up.

Taehyung wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you close to his body as he begins peppering kisses in every inch of your body he could come across.

Your hands entangling in his hair as you reach your second orgasm of the night. His following close behind.

He stays inside of you as your lips meet in a passionate frenzy.

No words being said, the two of you pull away as you lay next to each other — entangled in the messy chests of his bed. The two of you look at each other, lazy smiles on your faces as the sun shined in through the glass window

#btssmutclub #kimtaenet #mknlinenet #networkbangtan #kpopwonderlandtag #Kim Taehyung #taehyung x reader #taehyung fic #taehyung fanfic #taehyung fanfiction #taehyung scenario #taehyung smut #v fic #v fanfic #v fanfiction #v smut #bts fic #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction

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revisionaryhistory · 4 years

Text

Three Days ~ 24

~*~Sebastian~*~

After a period of extended kissing, we eased apart. I was starting to get a little cold. “We should move to the right direction on the bed.” She nodded her agreement. “I’ll get the covers.” They weren’t on the bed anymore. I have to say we’d made good use of the limited space we had. The space was good as a guest house, but it was small. The bed was a full and I don’t even want to talk about the size of the shower. Ok, I will say something. We’re not having sex in the shower here.

Emma arranged the pillows while I untangled the sheet and blanket. It felt like time for sleep. I don’t usually sleep naked, but I couldn’t bear the idea of there being clothing between us. Climbing back into bed, I held out my arm for her to cuddle up. She kissed my chest before laying her head down and putting her hand over my heart. I laid my hand on hers, folding my fingers over.

“Tomorrow, well today, is Memorial Day. Do you have plans?” I held my breath.

“Just a cookout. Nothing I can’t cancel.”

“I don’t want to ask you to cancel out on your friends.” I actually kinda did.

She lifted her head and pressed her lips to mine, “You’re not asking. I’m volunteering.” I leaned in, returning her kiss. She smiled and asked, “When’s your train?”

“Late as possible.”

There was some more kissing before we tangled together, my head resting against hers, and we fell asleep.

I woke up before Emma. Her hair was a mess on the pillow and covering her face on my chest. I very gently moved it away so I could see her. Fuck me, she’s beautiful. Might be the sex hormones, but fuck. I guess I hadn’t been as gentle as I thought because she started moving. I watched her stretch her shoulders and take a deep breath before sliding her hand around me, pulling me to my side. Then she opened her eyes.

“Wow, you’re always so handsome.” She ran her fingers through my hair, “Even more when you’ve just woken up and your hair’s all messy.”

Seriously? She opens her eyes and this is the first thing she says to me. My god. I . . . she . . . maybe . . . aw, fuck it. I laced my fingers into her messy hair and brought us together. Her mouth fell open as I got close and we’re right back where we left off last night. She’s right, we haven’t spent enough time just kissing for the sake of kissing. We’ve got all day.

Pressing my hips into her wasn’t a conscious move. She pushed me away, “Is that morning wood, or do you want me?”

I don’t know if it’s the words or the slightly deeper tone of her voice in the morning, but if I wasn’t hard for her, I would be now. “Started as morning wood then I saw you were still here.”

“Where else I would I be?” The smile that reached her eyes and the slight wobble of her head, emphasizing her words, send a shock through me.

I shook my head, “I don’t know, but I’m fucking ecstatic you’re here.”

“Me too.”

While we kissed I reached behind me to find the condoms on the nightstand and shoved them under the pillow. Closer is better. I put my hand between her legs, my fingers sliding inside her, and finding her slick. I kissed over to her neck, “Love how you feel.”

She reached over my head and I felt her digging where I’d stashed the condoms. “I want you, Bastian.”

That went right to my cock.

I kept playing with her while she sheathed me. Her hand wrapped around me, stroking me, then gripping tighter to lead me to her. I took her top leg over my hip, entering her as she guided me. From there it was all kissing and fucking. Occasionally one of us would run a hand over someplace or tease a nipple, but it was really about where we were connected. It felt so good that there was never a need to change anything. I felt my orgasm coming. I also felt her hand grab my ass, her suck my tongue, and her walls contracting around my cock. I joined in, thrusting deep to come. We never broke the kiss.

What could have been an hour or two minutes later our mouths separated. I buried face in her hair, “I think we just broke a law of physics or something.” Emma started laughing, which made her tighten up around me. My cock was too sensitive for the pressure. I winced and pulled out. “Ok, I’m going to get rid of this condom and take a quick shower. Then I’ll pack up and we can go say goodbye to the parents.”

“I’ll shower while you pack. Not getting near your mother reeking of all sorts of sex with her son.”

I chuckled, “Good point.” I nodded in the direction of the bathroom, “I’d invite you to join me, but you’ve seen how tiny that shower is. I barely fit.”

“I have a big shower.”

I raised my eyebrows, “We’ll have to get dirty again.” I gave her a quick kiss, fighting myself to not let it be more, and headed to the bathroom.

I don’t remember last time I smiled so much during a shower. Yesterday had been quite the day. Hell, it had been three days of smiling. I left it at that, determined to stay in the moment for at least another twelve hours or so. I was having way too much fun to ruin it with overthinking. My therapist would be very proud of me.

Wrapping the towel around my hips, I went back into the bedroom. Emma wasn’t there, but the bed was made and all the condom wrappers were gone. She didn’t have to do that, but it was sweet she had. I heard noise in the other room and yelled, “I’m out.” A second later she walked into the room wearing one of my shirts. It’s a miracle I didn’t drop to my knees and say thank you to a god I wasn’t sure I believed in. I pointed all over her, “This is hot.”

She made the same gesture, “So is this.”

When she got closer, I grabbed a chunk of my shirt and pulled her closer for a kiss. “Do this all the time.”

Her smile and the way she laid her hand on my cheek had me wanting to tell her to do that all the time too. “I’ll be quick.” She walked away, letting her hand trail over my shoulder. I stayed with my back to the bathroom until I heard my name. I turned to see her standing there naked. She tossed my shirt at me, “Thanks for the shirt.” She closed the door.

I put my hands high on the door frame, pressing my body to the wood, “You’re teasing me. Please, don’t stop that either.” The laugh I heard from inside made it even better.

We dumped the trash in the cans by the garage and stopped to put our stuff in the SUV. Only then did I see the wrapped-up package in the back, “Shit, I forgot all about the stained glass.”

Emma jumped and clapped her hands, “This is going to be fun. I can’t wait to see her face.”

I took the package and Emma put her hands on my ass, pushing me up the deck stairs. Mom and Anthony were sitting at the table in the breakfast area having coffee and leftover pastries from yesterday. “Mom, I got you something at the festival thing we went to the other night.”

She stood up and came over to the counter, “You didn’t have to, Sebastian.”

Emma spoke up, “He was so excited when he saw it.” I put my arm around her and kissed her head. I liked the comfort she had with my family.

Mom peeled away the brown paper and put her hand over her mouth, “Oh son, it’s beautiful. Thank you.”

I let go of Emma to hug my mom, “You’re welcome. I thought it would look good in here.”

“I think you’re right. Will you hang it before you two head out?”

“Of course.” I pushed Emma to go sit at the table while I got us some coffee. “We’re going to head back to her place then she’ll follow me back to drop off the SUV. I’ll figure out train schedules” I shook my head and shrugged “later.”

After chatting over coffee, I went for the hammer. The artist had told me how to hang the piece of art to keep it safe and included a couple of hangers. The chain was adjustable and it didn’t take long for me to have it hanging in the half-moon shaped window, just as I’d pictured it. Mom and Emma stood back in the room looking. I turned and they both nodded their approval. I was glad my two best girls liked it . . . whoa . . . I laughed out loud and they both looked at me strangely. Mom didn’t think anything of it and Emma would learn. I hugged mom again, “I’m glad you like it.”

“I do.” She pulled away and gave me a kiss, “You two go enjoy what you’ve got of the day.” She turned from me and hugged a surprised Emma, “Thank you for all your help yesterday.”

“You’re welcome. I had fun.”

Anthony followed mom’s lead and hugged Emma too, then me, and we were off. As soon as we were pulling out of the drive I reached for her hand, “Thank you, thank you, thank you, and thank you.”

She pulled my hand up and kissed it, “You’re welcome.”

I glanced over and saw her questioning face. I’d planned to explain, “For making the bed this morning, for helping out yesterday, for being excited about seeing my mom happy, and most of all for helping me find chocolate chips.”

Emma kissed my cheek, “Thank you for being lost.” We both laughed. “Hey, I was thinking, why don’t we have our own cookout? I’ve got a grill on the deck. We can pick up some stuff on the way back.”

“Sounds great. Can we get some breakfast too? I’m starving.”

Her place was maybe ten minutes from my parents. We were back quickly and I ran the keys in. It wasn’t unexpected that mom had questions. I’d warned Emma I might be a minute. I leaned against the counter, fiddling with my fingers. I think I’ll be dead before mom’s opinion doesn’t matter.

“I didn’t expect you to bring her along yesterday.”

“I didn’t expect her to come. I read her your text and she said sure.”

“I was wary. I’m always going to be wary when there’s a woman around you.” She wasn’t telling me anything I didn’t know. She was always worried about someone wanting me for me. I was about to tell her she didn’t need to worry, but she went on. “I don’t think she came with you to suck up to the parents. She wanted to spend time with you. Wherever you were.” I nodded my agreement and she continued. “I like her.”

I felt the smile hit my cheeks, “Yeah, I like her too.” I kissed my mom’s cheek.

“I could tell by the way you were making out on the deck.”

I clapped my hands together, “With that embarrassing moment, I’m going to go. I’ll call you later this week. Love you.” I hugged her again.

“Love you too, Sebastian.”

I was still shaking my head when I got in Emma’s CRV. She threw it in reverse, “How’d that go?”

“Not bad. She was impressed you came over to help and she likes you.” Didn’t need to share the rest of the conversation. I was confident Emma liked me for me. I’d gotten good at detecting the fake shit and she’d made it clear last night. Very painfully clear.

“I like them too. I was very nervous. As soon as I said I’d go I thought how weird it was since we’d met all of three days ago.”

I put my hand under her hair where I could touch her neck, “Explain to me exactly what hasn’t been weird with us?”

She pursed her lips, “Good point.”

“I like how you just say things and get it out there. I like how you talk to me.”

A slight blush crept over her cheeks, “I like how we talk.”

My turn to lean closer and kiss the driver.

#Sebastian Stan #sebastian stan fanfiction #fanfiction

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pleasuringmyprincess · 5 years

Text

Love Letter

I wrote the following In July, but decided not to share it at that time. it's now October. Circumstances change.

________________________________________________________________

I know this isn’t going to be easy for me, so please bear with me.

I’m looking for a new dom for my sub.

I’ve know Ren for six months or so, in a long distance relationship through circumstance rather than design. Circumstance being that I live in California, while she lives in England. This is not a full time LDR, work and family (I’m also from England) bring me to the UK regularly. So in the time we’ve known each other, I’ve travelled to England every 10-12 weeks, staying for 4-5 weeks each time, and I have two more trips scheduled for between now and the end of the year.

When I met Ren it was supposed to be just for play, but we found we had so much in common, so many shared interests outside in the real world, so much chemistry that a serious relationship quickly developed.

Ren isn’t just a delightful sub, she’s a wonderful mother to two lovely children, she’s fantastic company, intelligent, fun loving, really smart, caring, upbeat all the time, but... there’s always a but, and for Ren it’s a big one.

Let’s start by saying if there was ever someone who didn’t deserve the deck she was dealt it’s Ren. Over the last 6 years her self-esteem has been shattered by her prior partners, (I’ll say no more than that they have one way or another treated her badly) and as a consequence she has suffered from severe depression, has Generalized Anxiety Disorder, has self-harmed, and most recently has been diagnosed and is now being successfully treated for severe Premenstrual Dysphoric Disorder (PMDD).

Pause a moment there - this is the same woman, the woman who has been shit on by the world is also the wonderful mother, the delightful, intelligent, fun loving, smart, caring woman. My unicorn.

Ren’s seen a few big changes recently, most significantly she finally was able to divorce her husband and move to a new home. Two big steps forward, but at a cost of greatly increased anxiety. Just after this she heard that she was losing her job - she’s highly skilled but works in a poorly paid profession and because of the need to care for her kids, can only work part time. And she’s just lost her dom. We’ll come back to that in a minute.

In a scene, Ren is delightful, absolutely exquisite. I couldn’t ask for more, it breaks my heart to think of letting her go. Outside of a scene though, she can be very hard work. It’s more a question of providing support and encouragement over discipline. I have lost count of the number of hours I’ve spent helping her through the pain she feels. When she’s particularly low, it can be 3-4 hours a day. That’s not a complaint, I’d do it all again in a heartbeat even now while I’m writing this. It’s just a sign of the level of commitment you need to make. And just so it’s clear, Ren knows she has these problems and spends a lot of time in self-care activities and while it helps, it’s not enough.

Ren’s a working single mum, on a budget, she’s already very disciplined, very ordered, but she still struggles with some things and I have not been as successful as I would have liked in helping her address these issues (although today she has just proved to me that she can do this unbidden when motivated). I’ve not got to the bottom of why this is, and frankly it’s not been a high priority for me. I’ve been focused on helping her improve her self-esteem, manage her anxiety and encourage her to seek treatment for her PMDD (yay me!). This has really been my primary goal. And while it’s too soon to be sure, it really looks like we have succeeded, her anxiety and PMDD are both under control now. She is far far stronger today than she was three months ago.

Unfortunately, helping her get treatment for PMDD may have been my downfall.

After six years in the wilderness Ren is becoming whole again, free from her past, independent, far stronger than she has been for many years. Strong enough to tell me that she wants to move on. Ren needs someone full time, I know this, we’ve discussed it at length, and I had already put plans in motion to return to live in England to be with her. Now Ren has told me that while I am returning to England, it's not soon enough for her - she doesn’t want to wait. She also has concerns about my marriage. I am divorcing, she knows this, but right now I am married, and my divorce is something that Ren does not want to feel responsible for - she’s not responsible, that ship sailed long ago, but she says she will still feel responsible, and that’s enough. And my age, I’m 14 years older than her, too old in her eyes for a long term commitment.

Now obviously I’m not too happy about this, we are/were amazingly good together and had I not worked so hard to help her through her problems I might not be in this position today. I do feel significantly responsible for Ren’s recent improvement. For giving her the support she needed; for helping her apply for jobs; for showing her that there was a man who would fight for her, accept her for who she is, respect her for it; for being the consistent and reliable dom she needed; and most significantly for getting her back to the doc and having her PMDD addressed.

This is where I get a little twisted - one of the side effects of the medication Ren is taking for PMDD is possible impaired judgement. And there's part of me that thinks, dumping your dom like this wasn't the wisest thing to do right now. So the treatment for PMDD that I helped her get, might possibly be responsible for Ren taking what I think is an ill-judged decision in deciding that she’d rather seek out her perfect Dom than accept this one with all his flaws. I’m not blind to the fact that there’s part of me that thinks ‘Hey, I did the hard work in putting her back together and it would be nice to enjoy some of the benefits’, OK, I fully realize that’s selfish of me, but it’s understandable, I’m a dom, not a saint. To be clear though, it's not the decision I have a problem with, it's the hurried way she approached it. But we serve at our sub’s pleasure, and so here we are.

As it is, and I’ve never shared this with anyone, not even Ren, until now. I made a promise to myself that I’d help her come what may. And if that means 'setting her free' and helping her find a dom who’s worthy of her, that’s what I’ll do.

And so I’m looking for a new dom for my sub.

If you think that you might possibly be able to be the dom Ren needs, I’d like to hear from you. Before you all shout, as you might have gathered, I hold Ren in very high regard, and I will not let her settle for anyone who isn’t good enough. And just to be clear, I’m not going away. Ren and I have every intention of remaining friends.

So can this be you?

Let’s see shall we.

You’ve got to accept that Ren is a rich multi-faceted human being. If you are looking for a fuck toy, stop here.

She’s looking for more than just a play partner. Listen to Lou Reid singing Perfect Day, if you can’t offer that, you can stop reading here. Married guys (like me), guys in poly, or any form of relationship with someone else, you can stop here, she wants exclusivity. Btw, if you’re separated, divorcing, or whatever, you’re still married, so you stop here too. You don’t drink sangria in the park with Ren, and then later when it gets dark go home to your wife (read the lyrics, it will make sense).

Age 40-50, no exceptions. You will be fit and healthy, height/weight proportional.

No diseases, you will provide current STI test results, and you will always use a condom.

It will help if you a pro-Remain, if not, you need to be able to offer a coherent argument against. Intelligence matters.

As a submissive, Ren has specific needs, and specific limits. She needs pain, she needs to be spanked, mild to moderate use of a riding crop and paddle is OK, but not severe caning. She needs bondage both for the restraint and the art. Obviously there are other things as well, but she can share that if you meet, and I’m sure there are things that we’ve not tried that she will enjoy. She has limits and you will respect them. You will not humiliate her in any way, not even name calling. Not in play, not as punishment. There are other things you will not do, obviously, and again she can share them if you meet.

You must be an experienced Dom, having a fetlife account or a tumblr blog doesn’t count. You will meet me first. You will provide government photo ID, and references, and I will follow up on references in person.

Ren needs a Dom who is close by, someone who can see her 2-3 times a week without fail and who will remain in close contact when apart. Long distance relationships don’t work for her (ask me how I know), she needs to know you are close by, which means you must be within daily driving distance. No, she will not relocate. She has joint custody of her kids with her ex and that’s not going to change.

You’ve got to accept that she is not at your beck and call. She’s a mother, her kids come first and always will. You don’t even rate second place; like I said, she has a very demanding self-care program that takes a lot of her time, that comes next. She also has a cat. You might aspire to a position above the cat in her hierarchy, but I wouldn’t count on it.

________________________________________________________________

Don't take this as anything other than a mile marker down a road already travelled.

Applications are not currently being accepted.

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forallyourikemensengokuneeds · 5 years

Text

raising a princess ch one

“Sakura come here!” Mitsuhide yelled through the house.

“No daddy.” She said as she stood on the landing, “I don’t wanna go to school.”

“Sakura Akechi! I have to go to work and you need to get to daycare.” He said as he went over to the stairs.

“I is a big girl, Daddy. I can stay here by myself.” She said as her golden eyes glowed with a knowledge Mitsuhide sometimes hated.

“You are a big girl but baby you have to go to daycare. I have to go to work. It is Friday and we can go to the park this weekend if you will just please go to school.” Mitsuhide pleaded with the now three year old.

“I don’t like it daddy!” she said as he moved up the stairs.

“Why don’t you like it?” he asked as he sat down at the landing she was standing on.

“Daddy Miss Tanya yells all day.” She said. “She is mean. I don’t want to go.”

“Sakura Do you want to look for another school?” Mitsuhide asked.

“Yes Daddy.” Sakura said as she hugged him.

“Well you still have to go to school today but after my meetings I will pick you up and we will go look to see if there is something you like better.” Mitsuhide said as he knew he was giving in to her to easy but he also really didn’t like the way the school was headed. When he placed her two years ago in the new school it was fashioned to be more of a learning center where the young girl would learn things like a pre-school but as time went by he could only see it being a place where people dumped their children all day. He hated leaving Sakura in it but until she said something he wouldn’t move her again. That day finally arrived.

“Okay daddy.” She said as he hugged him and he lifted her up. He carried her to his car and belted her in to her car seat. Still small he wondered if she would ever be ready for a booster seat. They got to the daycare and he walked her in with her small backpack on his back and he looked around. She walked to her classroom which was in the back, though she was small she was in the advanced classroom with some of the older kids. He placed her backpack in the cubby hole she had and he bent down.

“I’ll see you in a few hours, princess.” He said as she hugged him tight and he pat her back.

“I love you daddy.” She said as she went to the table in the center of the classroom.

“I love you too princess.” He said softly.

“Mr. Akechi.” Miss Tanya said as she walked up to the man who was watching the tiny little girl at the table. “We would prefer it if you only used Sakura’s name here instead of any nicknames or pet names.”

“I will call my daughter whatever I wish.” Mitsuhide said as he looked down at the woman with disgust.

“It is just that some of the other children do not get called things like Princess by their parents and we find it gives a false sense of superioty to a toddler.” The woman went on.

“She is three. If I want to call my daughter princess, I will.” He said.

“I just find it causes much more trouble down the road.” She said, “Also I do have to ask you to refrain from doing it here.”

“You know what.” Mitsuhide said as he was trying to reign in his temper, “I don’t believe that we will have an issue with nicknames any longer.”

“Well it is good to see that you are taking my advice seriously.” Tanya said with a smile.

“I would like my daughters records please.” Mitsuhide said. “Sakura come here please.”

“Her records?” Tanya asked blankly.

“Yes. I would like her records please, NOW.” He said forcefully trying to not roar.

“But we don’t give those back to parents unless they are pulling their children from the school.” Tanya said.

“I know. As of this moment you do not have to worry what I call my daughter. She will not be going here any longer.” He said as an evil smile crept over his face.

“But.” Tanya said and the owner of the day care came over to help disfuse the situation. To which five minutes later he was walking out of the daycare with a folder on one hand and Sakura holding on to the other.

“Where are we going daddy?” she asked.

“To my job. I have that meeting I have to go to today but you can stay with one of your uncles. After that we will go find you another school.” Mitsuhide said.

Three hours later he was standing in front of a small house as he wondered if he had the right address. This did not look like any of the other daycares he had been too over the years. He looked down out the little girl next to him who also had bright wide eyes. He went up and rang the bell. A young woman opened the door with a smile.

“Hello, Can I help you?” she asked with a slight southern accent he could detect.

“I called about the daycare about an hour ago.” Mitsuhide said when he cleared his throat to speak as the woman in front of him was one of the most beautiful he had ever laid eyes on.

“Oh, Mr. Akechi. It is so good to meet you.” She said as she opened the door wider to let the two of them in. “And you must be Sakura!” she bent down to Sakura’s level and put out her hand to shake the girls hand. Sakura looked up at her father who nodded and she placed her small hand in the one of woman in front of her. “It is a pleasure to meet you Sakura. My name is Kristy.” She stood up and looked again at Mitsuhide, “If you will come with me we can discuss what you wish for Miss Sakura and then if your still interested in our program I can gladly show you around.”

“Lead the way.” Mitsuhide said as he looked down at his daughter who also seemed to be taken with woman. They went into an office off to the side and she left the door open.

“As I told you the owner who happens to be my aunt isn’t in today. She won’t be in for a week or so but I can answer any of your questions.” Kristy said as she sat down.

“So your aunt owns this place?” Mitsuhide said.

“My aunt started this place because of the sheer size of the family.” Kristy said. “We all went here at some point of our lives.”

“We?” Mitsuhide asked.

“My Siblings, cousins, and myself.” Kristy said as she pointed to a picture on the wall. “We were a huge family and my aunt was the only one who had a degree in early childhood education. She started this place to help all of us find a place to fit in.”

“A place to fit in?” Mitsuhide asked.

“Most of our fathers were also in the military. We were born in different places and often had different backgrounds in education even from our own siblings at times. She helped us with learning English and getting us ready for the school systems here. She made the program to help us, her family, but found that adding a few children from other families was the key to having a well rounded program. Even now the family is the main users of the school.” Kristy said with a smile. She looked at the tiny girl who was looking around the office. “Do you have any questions Sakura?”

“Is that you?” the tiny girl asked as she pointed to a picture on the wall.

“Surprisingly no, hun.” Kristy said as she walked over and took the photograph off the wall. “This is my mom.”

“Mom?” Sakura said with a tilt of her head. “I don’t have one of those.”

“Well if you wanted to see me in one of those pictures. I am in this one. Though I must be around your age.” Kristy said as she glossed over the admission of the young girl, “It was when my dad moved us from south America to here. He was in the military too just like your dad.”

The girl continued to look at the different photographs on the wall. “Now Mr. Akechi can you tell me what you are looking for in a program for Sakura?”

“Something that will teach her something. I don’t want her to be sitting in front of a tv or doing arts and crafts all day every day.” He started and Kristy let out a small laugh.

“I understand.” She said. “I think maybe I should show you around so you can see that we are slightly different then most daycares.”

“Yes. I think I would like to see that.” He said and Sakura took her fathers hand as they left the office.

“Now this right here is the front entrance. Though most people use it to come and go so we can monitor who enters and leaves we do have another entrance around back. It has a special badge that you have to have to open the doors. We do have an alarm on that one as well so we know inside the building that someone accessed it. These front rooms are our conference rooms that we can have meeting with families to give quarterly reports on each child. We do have these conferences on your schedule so if you have an issue we can help address it here as well. Now here comes the classrooms. This is the babies room. We have two teachers and eight infants under twelve months old in here. We also have a floating teacher that helps out in here when needed. Now the younger toddlers room. And further down the hall over here is the classroom that Sakura would be in.” Kristy opened the door and waved as all the twelve heads of the children turned and saw her. The two teachers that were in the room also looked up, “Please continue.”

“And this is how we say it in French.” The teacher said as she repeated a phrase in french to the class while the other teacher said, “This is how we say it in Spanish.”

Kristy shut the door and smiled at the two people she was giving the tour too. Mitsuhide was impressed already and it seemed his daughter was. “Now let’s go to the art rooms and the computer lab.” Kristy continued on the tour showing them room by room and the outside of the building with the semi large playground.

“This place is completely different.” Mitsuhide said.

“Like I said my aunt built this whole concept from the ground up. She knew that it would be more effective on the learning parts if it wasn’t like a school. There is one television in the whole building. That is only used for the older children on a Friday if they have received enough credit for the week. They also only watch a half an hour of whatever it is they won. Language skills are important for under five years old so we introduce things that will help them as well when they are older. It also helps for those who have to learn English that we offer five different langagues here. We are a family regardless and my aunt runs this place like it is her family.” Kristy said as she sat back down.

“Sakura what do you think?” Mitsuhide asked.

“I love it here daddy.” She said as she looked up at the woman who was sitting there.

“Okay princess.” He said as he looked up at the woman. “How much is the school.”

Kristy threw out a number and Mitsuhide looked at her like she was insane. “How is that possible? I was paying three times that amount at the other place.”

“Mr. Akechi we believe in quality over making a profit.” She said. “My aunt will never be rich but she will have the knowledge she helped guide her children here into something better.”

“We will take the spot.” Mitsuhide said.

“Good, now let’s have you fill these out.” Kristy said as she pulled out a new folder with a bunch of papers.

“Do you work here?” Mitsuhide asked.

“Actually no I don’t.” Kristy said, “I fill in for the office if I am needed like this week that my aunt is on vacation. I also help out here over the summer. I am in medical school and have break then.”

“A doctor huh?” he asked.

“Yes but I owe a lot to my aunt. You will find that most of the teachers here are either my cousins or they are former students.” Kristy said.

Mitsuhide looked at her and smiled. This was going to be the daycare that worked out for him and Sakura. Something told him this was going to help him with the girl.

#ikemen sengoku inspired sort of #rasing a princess #single father #Akechi Mitsuhide #Sakura Akechi

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dontenchantme · 4 years

Text

garden of eden - part one

Rated E, Satan x MC - eventual smut and mature themes.

[no rad au] he was the serpent who had lured her out of paradise. she ought to hate him, but she didn't.

fics masterlist

It had been a long day at work, and she was exhausted.

Her boss had dumped a new project on her today. With very little context and a teammate notorious for delivering haphazard work, she had no idea how she was going to meet the two-week deadline, and honestly, she was stressing out.

It didn’t help that HR sent an email about their performance bonuses, and despite the long hours and the hard work she put in the past year, her bonus was laughable. Meanwhile, the aforementioned teammate got a promotion and a pay raise even though he hadn’t done anything of importance. He didn’t even lead a project!

She was pretty sure it was because he was fucking around with their boss’ superior. Men sucked. The company sucked. She should just resign from her damn job.

Her head was pounding as she leant against the wall, waiting for the lift to reach her floor. She hoped her boyfriend had remembered to heat last night’s leftovers. If he couldn’t even get that right, she might have a meltdown.

There was a ding and the doors slid open. She stepped out of the lift, reaching up to knead her shoulder – she could feel the tension underneath her fingers, and she thought it might be a good idea to schedule a massage. She’d have to take a look at her budget for this month. There was a really good place down the street…

Her thoughts trailed away when she noticed an unfamiliar pair of heels outside her apartment. Immediately suspicious, she took out her phone and checked her texts – nothing from her friends, nothing from her boyfriend either. But…maybe she was wrong? Maybe she was overthinking? Her heart thudded in her chest as she took out her key, slowly unlocking the front door. Luckily, she had just oiled the hinges, and the door opened without a sound.

The first thing she heard when she stepped inside the apartment was the sound of a woman moaning, and she froze on the threshold, unable to move, unable to think. She could barely even breathe. A second later, the moan became a breathless cry, and then she heard the woman call her boyfriend’s name.

Suddenly seized by blinding, overwhelming rage, she stormed in the direction of the master bedroom, where she shared a bed with her good-for-nothing boyfriend and threw open the door to see him pounding into a woman wearing her favourite silk robe. Both of them turned to look at her, their eyes wide.

She didn’t say a word. She just reached for the nearest object, which happened to be a hairbrush, and threw it at her boyfriend. He yelped, jumping away from the bed, just barely missing the brush. She took her bag off her shoulder and began swinging it wildly, trying her best to hit him while the woman screamed and crawled back against the pillows, attempting to cover herself with the blanket.

“You’re crazy!” he shouted, scrambling away from her as she aimed the bag at his head. She saw his limp dick flopping around and she would very much like to cut it off, but luckily for him, there was nothing sharp in the vicinity. “You’re fucking insane!”

“You were the one cheating on me with her!” she screamed, opening her bag and throwing the items inside at him – he narrowly dodged a black binder and a tube of lip balm. “You’re a useless piece of shit, you can’t even hold down a job and now you decide to go around sticking your dick in whatever hole you can find? I should just kill you!”

“Oi! Murder is illegal!” he yelled back, but she was beyond reasoning at this point – she couldn’t even direct her anger at the other woman, she was so sick and tired of giving all the time and never getting anything in return. This was the last straw.

“I am going to kill you.” She shot the woman a look. “Take that off and get the fuck out of here.” The woman hastily disrobed and gathered up her clothes, running out of the room – when her boyfriend tried to slip past her while she was distracted, she reached out and grabbed his wrist, filled with a sudden strength she didn’t even know she possessed. “Who said you’re allowed to leave?” she snapped.

“Babe, it was a mistake, I swear it didn’t even mean anything.” He tried to explain, but she was in no mood for his excuses today. It had been a shitty, tiring day and all she wanted after work was a nice warm meal and maybe some time to unwind and catch up with her favourite shows. But of course, this day had to get even worse.

“You thought I was coming home late tonight and decided to fuck someone else in our bed,” she said, her fingers tightening around him. He tried to pull away, but she was so angry that she didn’t even notice him struggling. “You know, I heard when cats and dogs get neutered, they lose their sex drive. Maybe I should neuter you too.”

“H-hey, don’t get any funny ideas. I’m sorry, okay? I know I fucked up!” He sounded panicky, but she just smiled, marching out of the room with him in tow. The woman was already gone from the living room – thankfully for her because she didn’t know what she might have done if she was still around. “Oi! Stop! This isn’t a fucking joke!”

She stopped and turned to stare at him. “So, our relationship is a joke, then?” she asked, keeping her voice as cool and neutral as possible. The rage still boiled within her, and it took everything she had to not lunge forward and wrap her hands around his scrawny throat. Asshole. “The allowance I give you, the meals I cook for you, the time I try to spend with you even though you know how busy I am – all this is a joke?”

“No, I appreciate you, babe, I do. But you’re taking things way too seriously,” he babbled, seemingly convinced that he could talk his way out of this. “You know what it’s like being an artist! You need to get inspiration from all kinds of sources!”

“Oh, right! Inspiration! From cheating on your loyal girlfriend of eight years!”

She tried to drag him to the kitchen where all the knives were so she could make good on her promise to neuter him, but he latched onto the couch and refused to budge, so in the end, they just ended up screaming at each other and she told him to get the hell out of the apartment and never come back.

He grabbed a towel hanging off the back of a chair and wrapped it around his waist, running out without a second glance. She glared at his back and slammed the door, then leant against the wall, squeezing her eyes shut and pinching the bridge of her nose. What a shitty day. Now that he was gone, the anger felt so…hollow.

She was still angry. Not just at him, but at herself for being so trusting. For giving in all the time. Her friends told her that he was an asshole, and she always defended him because…well, they’d been together since high school and it just felt like the right thing to do. She loved him, and he loved her. Or at least she thought he did.

If she had to be honest, she knew their relationship was a complete mess. Ever since he graduated from college, he kept telling her that he would find his big break, that his art would be displayed in museums all over the world someday. But all she saw him do was laze around at home; once in a while he’d work on some project that he would then abandon in the living room. His only saving grace was that he did help with the rent, though usually, his contributions didn’t make up even a third of the amount they needed.

But it was so much easier to just stay in a lousy relationship than to be single. It was nice to come home to someone, and anyway, she never had the time to put up an ad for another roommate. Not that she had a choice now, anyway. There was no way she could afford to pay the rent on her own.

Opening her eyes, she walked to the kitchen, deciding to heat the leftovers from last night’s dinner. She was pretty sure that asshole didn’t listen to her request this morning, but whatever. She was used to men letting her down anyway.

But before she stepped into the kitchen, she heard the sound of glass breaking and she froze – was there someone inside? Did that woman not leave the apartment? She just wanted to have a meal and some alone time. It wasn’t a complicated wish, so why did life keep testing her? She was about this close to snapping.

“If you’re still here, I recommend you get the fuck out –” Her tongue stopped working when she entered the kitchen and saw, instead of the asshole’s side chick or whatever the hell she was, a blond man with bright green eyes that almost glowed. He was leaning against the countertop, watching her expectantly, almost as though he knew she would come into the kitchen. As though he was waiting for her.

“Who are you?” Her mouth felt disconnected from her brain. Her mind was going at a million miles per hour – should I call the police? How did he get in here? Is he the asshole’s friend? No, I don’t think I’ve seen him before. Is he a robber? I don’t even own anything of value. Then one final thought – he’s too beautiful to be human.

The stranger tilted his head, smiling at her – it was a warm, pleasant smile, but there was something off about it, and she felt a shiver run down her back. He took a step away from the counter, and suddenly everything within her was screaming at her to get out, to get away from him, but she was rooted to the spot. He approached her with all the feline grace of a big cat cornering its prey, and unbidden thoughts of her family sprang to mind. She wondered if she would ever get to see them again.

He was dangerous. “You don’t know who I am?” he asked, shaking his head a little. “You were the one who summoned me, though. With that delicious rage of yours. It would be so very, very nice,” he whispered, “if you could take this knife and just run it through him, wouldn’t it?” The man held out a hand and she watched, amazed as an ornate dagger materialised on his palm, its hilt encrusted with sparkling jewels.

“It’s a cursed dagger,” he explained, noticing her interest. “It grants one true death by disintegrating both the body and the soul, thus ensuring its victims cannot go to either Heaven or Hell. It’s the loneliest, most cruel of punishments. But he deserves it, doesn’t he?” His voice softened into a croon, almost melodious. “You were far too good for him. He didn’t understand what he had, couldn’t appreciate the effort you put into supporting him and his career. Instead, the moment your back was turned, he found another woman and took her in your bed. The shame.”

He had an enchanting voice. So mesmerising, just like him. His green eyes glittered, and her feet moved of their own accord, bringing her closer to the beautiful man – her hand reached for the dagger, its sharp blade singing to her. “The shame,” she echoed, the rage and resentment she had bottled up for so long bubbling within her. “He deserves it. He does. After everything I’ve done for him.”

She didn’t know if she was agreeing with the man or if she was trying to convince herself. The man looked at her steadily, silently daring her to take the blade from his palm. She hesitated over the hilt, her fingers trembling. It was a stunning thing, deadly but gorgeous. Much like its owner, who held it out to her with a placid smile on his face. It would be ridiculously simple to just reach out and grab it. But she was shaking.

“What do you want in return?” she asked. It was too strange, too good to be true. He was too perfect, and she reminded herself that men couldn’t be trusted.

He chuckled. “You’re perceptive, aren’t you?” Then he paused. “I don’t blame you for being cautious. But you know perfectly well who I am. You’ve simply forgotten.”

He sounded so disappointed. She shouldn’t feel guilty – she truly had never seen this man before – but for some reason, she felt terrible about not recognising him. “Just close your eyes and think,” he whispered, stepping so close that he filled up her vision – she tipped her head back and stared at him, her breath frozen in her lungs. “If you pray hard enough, the answer might come back to you.”

If she prayed. Was he an angel? No, probably not – he looked like one, but there was a distinct aura of danger around him, one that didn’t seem angelic at all. Yet she felt compelled to listen to him, and she closed her eyes, wondering what to pray for. His distinctive scent wafted around her. Smoky, like burning wood, but there was something sensual too, a musky kind of smell that made her toes curl. Something stirred within her, something mysterious and foreign and exciting.

She felt slender fingers rest gently on her cheek. “That’s right. You’re an obedient girl, aren’t you?” he murmured. She could feel his cool breath against her ear, and she shivered, a sigh escaping her lips. “Your soul recognises me. Tell me, what is my name?”

“Satan.” A demon’s name. But saying it didn’t feel wrong at all. As his name left her mouth, she felt something lurch within her and she gasped. Her body felt like it was on fire – her eyes flew open and she reached forward, curling her fingers in his shirt. He watched her, amusement dancing in his piercing green eyes, and he didn’t resist in the slightest when she pulled his face down, forcing her lips against his.

She had to tiptoe and crane her neck just to reach him, but in return, his kiss was brutally punishing – his hand seized the back of her head and she moaned when he leant into her, his fingers pulling at her hair, forcing her to keep her head tilted. He was rough, alternating between deep, bruising kisses and actual biting, but there was something so freeing, so satisfying about how angry the kiss was. How it was nothing like the languid kisses she usually exchanged with her jerk of a boyfriend.

He brought her to life, and she could feel the rage that had been simmering all this time within her exploding, her fingers scrabbling underneath his shirt, her nails raking his back. He hissed and stopped pulling on her hair, and she was mildly disappointed for a moment, but the next thing she knew his fingers were wrapped around her throat and she was choking and struggling, her eyes rolling back in her head.

She couldn’t breathe, she was delirious, and maybe he might kill her, but she felt so alive. “Fuck you,” she managed to spit out, and she heard him laugh before he let go of her and she stepped back from him, wheezing. Her lips felt tender, and she could feel the imprint of his hand around her neck. But there was something within her that was drawn to him, something that told her to go back, to provoke him, to see how far he’d let her go next time. What would he look like when he was angry?

“You’re delightful.” His eyes gleamed, and she thought about how gorgeous they were, reflecting the fluorescent kitchen light. “Of all the sins you could have fallen into, you chose mine…I’m sure you’ll be a very entertaining human.”

He carefully placed the dagger on the counter – her gaze flitted to it, then back to him, waiting for him to say something. “Treat this as a favour, human. In exchange for that little kiss. You can think about whether or not you’d like to act on your urges – if you turn away, you still have a chance to save your soul. If not…” He shrugged, leaving the words unspoken. She understood what he meant.

“Why are you warning me?” she demanded. Her voice sounded choked still, almost breathless, and her fingers fluttered up to her throat. “Don’t you want to tempt me to sin? You’re a demon.” And demons tortured the souls of sinners in Hell.

Satan laughed. “You amuse me. No other reason. But if you would rather keep your precious soul safe…” He reached for the dagger, and she immediately lunged for it, wrapping her fingers around the hilt. It was strangely warm, and the jewels seemed to pulsate with a mysterious energy. He met her gaze, raising an eyebrow.

“No. I’ll keep it. Just in case. I need time to think about it.” She couldn’t let go of the soft, tempting whispers he baited her with, the promise that she could kill the ones who betrayed her, that she could give them a fate crueller than death itself – he had provided her with an extremely powerful weapon and she’d be an idiot to give it up just like that. “How long do I have to consider?” she asked.

“Take as long as you’d like.” Satan shrugged. “I’m in no hurry. And neither are you, I suspect.” He looked her square in the eyes and smiled – she shivered. She could sense the danger that lurked behind that genial expression. “But it’d be best not to wait for too long. Wrath is impatient, you see. Once you let those embers of rage fade away, the blade you hold now will be rendered useless. Keep that in mind.”

“Thank you for the advice.” She paused, and the man waited, as though he knew she wasn’t done speaking to him. She chewed her lip, then finally decided to raise the question on her mind. “What if I want to see you again?”

“That’s simple. Just get angry.” He reached for her, tilting her chin with one finger, and she shivered at his touch. “I’m the Avatar of Wrath, and I hide deep within the shadows of hatred. I appear to those consumed by their rage, to those who believed one time too many in unfulfilled promises. Call my name and perhaps I’ll come to you.”

He leant down and brushed his lips against hers, a brief kiss far gentler than the one that came before. Her eyes widened, and he pulled back – he whispered her name in a voice like honey and sin and at the very next moment, he was gone, leaving behind nothing but the smell of flames and the memory of his fingers on her skin.

Oh, and also the dagger. She glanced at the bejewelled blade, wondering what to do with it. The jewels twinkled under the kitchen light, and she studied the polished metal – it was pitch-black, and it seemed to shimmer as she moved it around.

Maybe this was a dream. After a long day filled with bad news, she finally snapped and dreamt up this entire scenario featuring a weirdly hot demon with a voice that made her want to sin, and eyes that seemed to draw out her very soul…yeah, she had to be dreaming. Weren’t demons supposed to be ugly creatures with wings and tails and pitchforks? He looked like a regular human. Albeit a really hot one.

The dagger felt uncomfortably solid, though. Carefully grasping the hilt, she took it out of the kitchen, heading back to her bedroom. She placed the dagger in one of her drawers and kept it away. Out of sight, out of mind. Maybe it’d be gone when she woke up. Her stomach growled then, and she winced. Right. She had forgotten about the leftovers.

She prepared to leave the room, but she walked past the dresser on her way out and she couldn’t help but pause. She glanced into the mirror, wanting to reassure herself that everything was fine, that nothing had changed. But then she blinked and stared at her reflection.

Her reflection looked back at her, and she slowly reached for it, tracing the purplish marks that blossomed across her neck. They were shaped just like fingerprints.

#satan obey me #satan x mc #obey me #obey me shall we date

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sakuradormitory · 5 years

Text

Understanding

I finished and edited another old project: 50 sentences about Sorata and Ryuunosuke this time! I’m hoping to do the same with a few more old projects next year.

You can read it on AO3 or FF.net, or down below!

1. Restless

“There's five concepts here, six if you count last one as two potential ideas-—” Sorata thumps down the pile of papers on top of Ryuunosuke's desk, and looks at him intently “-—I want your honest opinions on them, go ahead and rip them to shreds if you must, just help me make them better, alright?”

2. Understanding

“I just don't understand him,” as he tosses his phone aside, Sorata mutters to himself — he doesn't really care to, either (at least, not quite yet).

3. Right

“It just doesn't sit right with me, living with someone who I've only met face to face once,” Sorata argues, raising his hand to knock on Room 101 even as Jin and Chihiro try to talk him out of it.

4. Hope

“Akasaka...” Sorata peeks around the door hopefully, “Jin-san and Misaki-senpai took over my room playing games, mind if I hide here for a while?”

5. Hinder

“You're only holding yourself back with that kind of attitude,” Ryuunosuke starts, but Sorata doesn't want to hear that from him, of all people.

6. Kite

Rita takes them up to Hampstead Heath where she and Mashiro used to fly kites; Sorata isn't expecting it to be quite so much fun until his and Ryuunosuke's kite outfly the others by a considerable height.

7. Closed

“Misaki-senpai said you play games too, want to join us—” Sorata winces at the sharp sound of the closing door.

8. Confuse

“You thought I was a ghost?” Ryuunosuke wrinkles his nose, apparently confused, “really, Kanda?”

9. Presence

“Well, you didn't exactly radiate a comforting presence!”

10. Rough

Sorata pats the space on their sofa next to him as Ryuunosuke flops down with a groan, “let me guess, the meeting ran overtime again?”

11. Edible

Ryuunosuke defends his attempt at cooking dinner as both edible and nutritious, which is really all that defines food, when you think about it, though Sorata insists that what you cook needs to taste good too.

12. Learn

“If you won't eat it, we can just order someth—” Sorata drags him to the kitchen for a cooking lesson before he can finish.

13. Posture

“Here, if you lift your chin a bit, and straighten your back—” Sorata holds onto his shoulders and steps back a bit to get a better view at him, Ryuunosuke's attempts to deter him doing nothing, as usual “—you'll thank me for this later, Akasaka, you'll make a better impression on them if your posture is good!”

14. Team

“I don't like team games,” Ryuunosuke says, not unexpectedly, but Sorata is pretty sure he and Misaki will manage to rope him into a few anyway.

15. Listen

“You just don't want to admit that she's actually really good for you,” Sorata starts heatedly, but Ryuunosuke is out of the door before he can finish.

16. Distance

“You know, you could at least admit that we're really good for you,” Sorata tries, his tone softer this time as he slumps back on Ryuunosuke's bed, looking at the ceiling, “just like you're really good for us... we've come a long way together.”

17. Subject

“It's research...” Sorata waves the console at him imploringly; Ryuunosuke turns away, hiding a smile, “...come on, Akasaka, just one game?”

18. Length

“You're just about the only person here I could tolerate living with for longer than two years,” Ryuunosuke mumbles sleepily one night, not expecting Sorata to really remember it.

19. Grumble “...oh, alright, I suppose I've got some time to spare...” Ryuunosuke rolls his eyes, but Sorata is all but beaming at him.

20. Assisstance

“Kanda, I...” the words seem to cost him something, so Sorata waits patiently for him to finish, “...you... you were right, and I need your help.”

20. Chord

“You could stand to treat your friends a bit better, Akasaka,” Sorata bites back harsher words, but the ones he calls out seem to strike a chord with him too.

22. Miss

“I think I'm missing something, Akasaka... your girlfriend sent you a lovely, thoughtful gift for your birthday and this situation is terrible because...?”

23. Gift

“...her birthday is several weeks away, that's plenty of time to come up with a gift idea, Akasaka.”

24. Distress

“Do you think I'd be panicking about it this much if I thought I could think of something in that time?!”

25. Unite

“Combining what we both do... so you're talking about some kind of art software...” Ryuunosuke frowned slightly, looking from Mashiro, to Sorata, to his desk and the computer screens, “...even for someone such as myself... making an art software from scratch on my own in under a month... isn't exactly feasible,” he says finally.

26. Serious

Mashiro looked from Ryuunosuke to Sorata, “Sorata, I thought he was supposed to be a genius.”

27. New

“I'd like to see you make software from scratch in three weeks,” Ryuunosuke muttered, leaning back again, as Sorata and Mashiro returned to the drawing board.

28. Smug

Sorata passes his driving test on his first try with flying colours; he offers to drive Ryuunosuke to and from every in-person meeting he has, so Ryuunosuke can't really complain about how smug he is about it.

29. Amount

“I can't imagine he'll be able to eat that many tomatoes,” Sorata said, eyeing the grocery bag that Jin had begun to unload.

30. Aviation

“I'll miss her too,” Sorata smiles when Ryuunosuke looks away abruptly from the rising plane, “but I think we all know she'll be back again soon.”

31. Gloom

“He likes programming and... tomatoes,” Sorata echoes gloomily, wondering how he's supposed to use those to start a decent conversation.

32. Routine

It had become some sort of a routine to bump into Ryunnosuke in the kitchen in the early hours of the morning on the days when insomnia kicked in.

33. Conduct

“I had hoped they'd be tired out by now,” Sorata sighs sympathetically when Ryuunosuke shoots a glare in the direction of today's chaos that Misaki and Jin seem to be conducting in the garden.

34. Appreciate

“Tomatoes are best enjoyed in their natural form, but I do appreciate the soup, Kanda.”

35. Victory

“Akasaka-” Sorata bursts into the room with what seems to be explosive, uncontainable delight “- I did it, I passed!”

36. Second

The second time they celebrate by the school pool, (despite Nanami's protests) Ryuunosuke decides to come for the food, but flat out refuses Sorata and Misaki encouraging him to join them in the water.

37. Visit

Mashiro comes by for a visit just as Sorata is giving Ryuunosuke a cooking lesson... he's surprised by how well it goes.

38. Rest

“Overworking yourself never did anyone any good,” Ryuunosuke scolds him; it's a sentiment that Sorata makes sure to repeat back to him on occasion.

39. Between

Between them, they'd managed to fix the broken kitchen sign with a lot of success... and the smile on Misaki's face certainly made it worth it.

40. Moment

“It's pretty good...” Sorata could almost swear that he was grinning, “it needs work, of course, but for a start...”

41. Certain

“Ryuunosuke-sama, a certain someone seems to be sending you a lot of messages for advice on his current project... should I block him?”

42. Split

“If we're going to be living together, we're splitting the grocery shopping 50/50, got it?”

43. Role

“Alright, I'll bring them to him,” Sorata huffs as Shirayama-sensei piles a stack of papers into his arms, wondering when he'd signed up for the role of passing on assignments.

44. Found

“Akasaka, have you seen K—” Sorata grins when he sees a familiar shape curled up contentedly on his friend's lap.

45. Lecture

“You're really going to lecture me about working out a good schedule when you pulled two allnighters to finish that project?!”

46. Exception

“Thanks, Kanda, I...” to his surprise, Ryuunosuke slumps against him after the awards ceremony; Sorata can feel his knees shaking a little still, “...I'm glad you came with me.”

47. Attitude

It's a wonderful thing, Sorata thinks, to see your friend smile more and more throughout the years.

48. Reject

He'd expected Sorata to turn his back on him, he'd expected all of them to, and yet...

49. Unexpected

With Ryuunosuke being the only other resident home, Sorata isn't expecting much attention while he sneezes the day away, but it's a pleasant surprise when Ryuunosuke comes in with reheated soup, medicine and a bag of Sorata's favourite snacks, even if the latter is dumped rather unceremoniously on the end of his bed.

50. Change

A lot of things have changed for him over the past few years, he realizes, wincing a little as he helps Sorata carry the last box of his posession through the door of their new home, but he might have changed the most.

#sakurasou no pet na kanojo #the pet girl of sakurasou #kanda sorata #akasaka ryuunosuke #fanfiction #my post

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moonlight-at-dawn · 5 years

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fwaaaaa.......tired but... accomplished....

wanted to go to the ocean this week but then my goddamn period was like “hey, time to dump all this trash during the exact 2 days that you were thinking of going anywhere fun” and ugh lol

so instead of going to the water, Mika and I went to Michaels and I grabbed a craft cart along with fun stuff, built it and loaded it up, and now I feel more able to think about my projects, with so much in one place and easy to grab and move around now :3

then yesterday was a.... weird day. Kiddo is having a rough time in school. Some of it is just kids being kids (aka quick to make judgments and jump on bandwagons without thinking of consequences involved) and some of it is that my kiddo has a really tough time managing his reactions. Although his reactions have become more pronounced because of the neighbor’s cruelty to him. Goddamn every adult in this house hates that kid lmao he’s such a piece of shit, since day one he’s been making fun of my kid for being interested in different things, we’ve had to be the ones to teach that kid about things like CONSENT (*playing with another neighborhood kid, a younger girl* “She’s my girlfriend, I can do whatever I want to her!” “THAT’S NOT HOW THAT WORKS” fucking HORRIFYING, I MEAN REALLY, WHERE DID HE *HEAR* THAT!?), just, ugggghhhhh is it okay to call a 7 year old an asshole??? I mean, not to his face, of course, but just, in general. ofc also blame his parents, but really, this fucking child............

But anyways, that kid and his friend (who he likes to “show off” for - aka be extra mean to others when he’s around) swung by on Tuesday and I had bought my kid spray cans of chalk and he showed it to them, and they fucking sprayed him with the chalk (just on the hand) and tried to get him in trouble for it, so my kid lost his shit (reasonably so imo, though ofc he needs to learn how to better express himself upon losing his shit ahahah...) and SCREAMED at them to leave and never come back, and honestly I agree, they aren’t allowed over ever again unless they get their shit together and stop being pricks for cool points

After that, though, yesterday was... Kiddo refused to go to school, threw a huge fit, did later apologize for it, but it was really really bad. We wound up not bringing him to school even late, we said it was a family issue and kept him home, he helped me clean my room and we did some crafts. We did let him go to martial arts (I mean, we’re paying for it...... lol) and he had his stripe testing! I was surprised it was happening so quickly, the classes haven’t been running long, it’s a new school, but I guess it’s gonna be just part of the monthly schedule, so if nothing else, it was to accustom them to the process.

But my kiddo got his first stripe!! :3 And he was the only one!! :O And he also won, they did a little fitness challenge. I’m so proud of him! Last year one of his big issues and something that qualified him for sp.ed. is that his endurance was far lower than it should have been. And now he won a little fitness challenge in martial arts in a class where all but one kid is older than him, mostly by a couple of years, and he got to stand at the front with the instructor while they got everyone else doing jumping jacks and push ups and stuff.

It was, perhaps, too nice of a day for a kid that stayed home because he spent the early morning shouting and arguing, but he did make it up by apologizing without prompting and helping me clean and making no other such complaints the rest of the day. And we had talks about kids being mean and how we understand how it becomes easy to lash out when you’re used to people being mean to you, but it’s not okay, etc etc, and I don’t know, we’ll see ofc, it’s not like any behavioral thing can be solved in a single day’s instance, but he did seem to truly understand as we talked, so I hope it’ll be... easier, when those moments pop up in the future, to revisit this conversation and move on without much argument.

Today is something at his school where they sing and stuff, so I’ll be going to that in a couple hours... I’ll probably just take him home after, since it’s nearly the end of the day anyway. I’m kinda running on fumes after the last two days lol, but as long as I can make it through today......

idk if we’ll go see Detective Pikachu today or a different day..... I’m super excited for it lmao, and so is my kid, but we may be the only ones who really care XDDD Like, there’s interest from others, but the kid and I are amped for the movie x3

#misha rambles

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thoseindarkness · 6 years

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Code Of Conduct (one shot)

Rey is just another student trying to get through her junior year at the University of Miami. She signs up for what should be an easy French class and ends up with more than she bargained for in her smart, sexy teaching assistant, Ben Solo. A series of embarrassing encounters draw them closer together as they skirt the line between appropriate student/teacher relationships and out and out insanity. Will they? Won't they? Time will tell.

This story was a lot of fun for me to write! Meant to be a short, cute, one-shot it ballooned up to 5 chapters. Does include a NSFW final chapter but you can skip it and read the first 4 to get your happy ending.

Special thanks to the amazing people at @thereylowritingden and @sand-its-everywhere for her prompts. Please enjoy a snippet.

Rey had been told many things about her junior year of college. For example, that by the end of her second year things like wearing makeup and looking cute for class would stop happening. That her party habits would fizzle out and she'd be content to sit around in her apartment with her close friends and watch Netflix after a long weekend of studying. That the freshman fifteen would never go away. That everything above a two hundred level would melt her brain out of her ears.

All of these things seemed to be true everywhere that wasn't Miami. In Miami the men were beautiful, the women were more beautiful, and everyone worked so hard at it they transcended biology to achieve a level of grace Rey didn't know human beings were capable of. Going to class in anything less than eyeliner and an artfully messy updo was sacrilege. There were at least four 'getties' (read: parties) every weekend. The freshman fifteen never showed up, negating the need to make it go away. Even her classes hadn't turned out to be that hard. Sure, she was an art student, but that didn't make it any easier.

The University of Miami in particular was a microcosm of the best and worst of Miami life. Its heights of affluence and the excesses therein juxtaposed against the families who clawed their way out of abject poverty to send the first college-eligible children in their families to the best damn school in the city.

Rey traversed the campus in early January on her way to closing out the first day of the spring term. She'd chosen an easy class. Accelerated Elementary French. The doubled down version of French 101 and 102. Florida had some language requirement that she'd managed not to meet despite having taken more foreign language courses than anyone she knew. She'd been speaking French since she was child, but that wasn't good enough for the state. It had worked out for the best. She'd crafted her scheduled to make her Monday-Wednesday-Friday afternoons an easy (read: skippable) class.

The small, auditorium-style classroom was nearly full when she arrived. It was a mix of upper and underclassmen. At least fifty. A few more trickled in after she took her seat in the center row. The three o'clock hour rolled around and the podium remained empty. Another minute ticked by. Then another.

"You think he'll show?" the girl in the row below her asked the boy next to her.

He shrugged.

A girl at the front of the room turned to them. "We should wait at least fifteen minutes before assuming the professor is a no-show," she said in a haughty, matter-of-fact tone. Definitely a freshman.

"I give him five," a tall, copper haired boy in the back called; he had an accent. Southern maybe? Rey was no good with the local regional accents. She could tell a northern from a southern Welshman but the difference between a Texan and a Georgian? No clue.

"Well, I think—"

No one found out what the girl in the front row thought because at that moment the door at the rear of the classroom flew open, banging loudly against the wall.

"Shit. Sorry," the man who burst through it said. He lumbered down the steps, his bag flopping against his hip, dark hair flying wildly around his face. He hopped the last two steps and skidded along the floor several inches before breaking for the podium. Not bothering to look up, he dumped his bag on the table and dipped over the computer.

"Good afternoon, everyone. My name is Ben Solo. I'll be your TA for this class. Dr. Martinez won't be joining us today. Get used to me saying those words. He doesn't deign to teach the one hundred levels, but we will be following his lesson plans to the letter." He popped up, placed his hands on his hips, and eyed the blank white screen in the front of the class. His slightly wrinkled oxford strained against what looked like well-developed shoulders. "What the hell?" Blue light enveloped him a moment later. "There it is."

Keep reading on AO3.

#reylo #reylo fan fiction #reylo fanfic

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theolivechickken · 5 years

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Windy in Wien

Jan 24

The bus ride to Vienna was super comfy. I’ve realized that I get ansy when I haven’t been in a car for a while. There’s something so comforting about being in a moving vehicle. And I love that it allows me to see parts of the city or country that I wouldn’t be able to see on foot or in a plane. Still haven’t tried trains yet though.

Still weirded out by how much snow there is. I wasn’t expecting it to melt overnight, but I think this is the longest I’ve been in a place with actual seasons so I keep expecting winter to end pretty soon. But it’s mid-January so I don’t think that’s going to happen.

We rolled into Vienna after a pretty quick drive (5 hours and half of it spent asleep) and immediately were welcomed into the city scene: towering renaissance and baroque architecture, gothic churches, rounded off street corners, and narrow cobblestone roads. Street art (or graffiti in some people’s eyes) stylizing public walls. Gentle waves in the Danube river. Trains, cars, and cable buses. Individuals and groups bustling through and conversing in different languages. It seems larger and livelier than Salzburg, yet still very similar to our home there.

We dropped our luggage off at Hotel Post, hobbled into a restaurant for a quick lunch (had some goulash), and met up in front of St. Stephen’s Cathedral for a guided walking tour lead by our professor, Elizabeth. IT WAS SO COLD AND WINDY. Thankfully, we were able to step inside the Cathedral and warm up before carrying on with our tour. We roamed the streets as Elizabeth bombarded us with historical facts and information about the city and architecture. I think the one thing I took away from the tour was the fact that there are bumpers that stick out on the sides of the walls and posts, and this was designed so that carriages wouldn’t scrape and damage the walls. This really got me thinking about just how long this city has been standing and how much history has passed. It’s wild to visit the museums that used to be actual homes of noble families or to see works of art that portrayed life in a specific period of time. Not long ago, individuals from a very different lifestyle roamed and built these magnificent structures or gave the lord a visit in these beautiful, Gothic churches.

For dinner, we stopped by a little Asian restaurant next to our hotel. I ordered soup and was expecting a cup but got a massive bowl. Perfect for my throat. Afterwards, we went to the Vienna State Opera (Wiener Staatsoper) to watch Sylvia. Both the opera house and the ballet were breathtaking. The architecture and interior design of the were so captivating to look at, and the story of the ballet kept me on my feet. I’ve seen many ballets, and this one was unique because it was accompanied with a live orchestra. It was a long performance with 3 intermissions, but it was a lovely performance.

Jan 25

Found the complimentary hotel breakfast and had some toast with eggs, bacon, and VITAMIN JUICE which I was probably slightly allergic to since it made my tongue all fuzzy (are there apples in it?) Once again we went on another walking tour with Elizabeth and tried not to freeze as we strolled through Imperial Vienna. Also went to the Kunsthistories Museum and got to freely explore all of the floors and exhibits. The top floor was interesting because it contained a collection of different coins and forms of currency that even dated back to ancient Greece. The middle floors were the main focus for our trip. We walked through several rooms that showcased portraits and

We still had some time to wander, so Patrick and I also explored the bottom floor which showcased several artifacts including glasswork, wooden figurines, and bronze and marble sculptures.

For lunch, we found a Chipotle style restaurant that advertised themselves as California-style burritos. We were excited because it was Mexican food, but also prepared for it to be not that great. Not gonna lie: it was off-brand, semi-sad Chipotle. But it was food and it was quick. We also saw a guy wearing a horse head and playing the accordion as we walked to Haus der Musik. Betty had us speed walk through this museum as well, but I liked that it was interactive and each room showcased a different composer and his personality.

Man, Beethoven was DEAF but I really feel like that could be me in the near future because I can’t hear half the time anyways.

You would think that I’d be all museumed- out but I’m only in Vienna once so might as well soak it all up! I ended up visiting the Albertina and this was probably my favorite part of today. I loved being able to walk through a museum and explore it completely on my own time. Also love modern, contemporary art and they definitely had an exhibit right up my alley. Discovered Erwin Wurm’s work and had a grand ol time feeling inspired by it.

Later that night, we were trying to find a place to eat dinner before going wine tasting. Nadia, Raine, Patrick, Aubree, and I were intrigued by the photos of the dishes that one restaurant was offering. BUT WE LEARNED TO ALWAYS REQUEST THE MENU BEFORE SITTING DOWN AND COMMITTING. We were seated and opened their menu to reveal extreme prices (for dishes that were probably worth the money but not within our budget). We ended up getting two dishes of spaghetti and sharing it family style. Which resulted in us each having legit 3 bites each.

Then the wine tasting place that we were trying to visit was packed and didn’t take any reservations for the rest of the night :( Most stores were also closed by 7pm and restaurants were shutting down for the night. It was nearly 9pm but there was one grocery store that was still open till then. We RAN to that place to get some wine, bread, and cheese and throw our own little tasting party at the hotel.

Jan 26

We had the chance to sleep in a little this morning but we had a tough time getting up and being ready on time as a group. We really scarfed down a quick breakfast and hurried to catch the bus so that we would make it to our museum appointments. We went to the Belvedere Gallery and visited the Schönbrunn palace. I wish I could say more about both but I think I really was museumed-out at this point. I wish I had more time to digest and enjoy Vienna instead of constantly going from one event to the next. However, both were very beautiful and I’m glad we had the chance to see these places.

In between these stops, we were dropped off at Naschmarkt to have some lunch in a restaurant of our choice. We stopped inside an Asian restaurant and I had some pad thai (I don’t think i’ll be missing Asian food as much as when I was in Swaziland, but I do miss some good Mexican food). We also stopped at a little cafe afterwards for some sweets. I got this pancake (crepe) with strawberry jam filling and it was pretty tasty.

After Schönbrunn Palace (sadly, we weren’t able to go inside since it didn’t fit in our schedule), we boarded the bus to head back to Salzburg.

It was a cozy, comfortable ride back. And a beast to climb the mountain. Aubree, Raine, and I were plopped on our floor for a good hour because we were too tired to move. Finally, we decided to go downstairs with Patrick to have a family dinner. Pasta Time. What could go wrong? Aubree and I had one pot boiling pasta noodles, one pot simmering the red sauce, and another pot warming pesto sauce. Then we tried to get creative with garlic bread. Patrick had the genius idea to stick the foil-wrapped butter in the microwave to warm it up. I was in the process of dumping out the boiling water and noodles into a strainer in the sink when we all heard ZZZZZZPT and saw a flash of lightning happen in the microwave.

Patrick learned something that day. I think we all learned something that day. Pro-Tip (brought to you by yours truly): hold the foil-wrapped butter in your hands to soften it up.

Eventually, we got the butter spread on the bread and the garlic powder dumped all over for some pizazz. Then SaVanna came in to make a grilled cheese. One too many people in the kitchen. One minute we were all trying to hustle and bustle to continue making our food. The next? GRILLED CHEESE IS BLACK AND BURNED, OUR PESTO SAUCE IS SOMEHOW BOILING (who turned it up to 9???), AND WE ARE ALL OPENING WINDOWS AND DOORS AND FANNING SMOKE WITH TOWELS (which Raine accidentally whipped Patrick in the eye with) AND CHAIRS SO THAT WE DON’T SET THE FIRE ALARM OFF AND GET A HEFTY FINE.

What a night.

Jan 27

Definitely slept 12 hours that day and could go for more. Only reason I got up was to eat some food. Raine, Patrick, Aubree, and I went to a cafe for some good eats. We were in the mood for sandwiches but that’s not really what we ended up with. We tried some glühwein and were intrigued by “burgers” on the menu (not a great combo btw). Afterwards, we stopped at the grocery store and then carried on to New Town to hang out at the coffee house and do homework. I think we were pretty productive for the few hours that we were there.

We came back to the Mönchsberg for pasta, wine, bread, and cheese night 2.0.

We started out strong with some pasta and tortellini boiling on the stove while we enjoyed our bread, wine, and cheese. Then Aubree’s tourettes decided to kick in. Her arm spazzed out and knocked over her glass of wine onto Patrick’s laptop. Poor guy was just trying to watch the soccer game.

We were up quickly, scrambling to throw towels and napkins onto the table and holding Patrick’s laptop upside-down while blowing on it to get the liquid out. I was quickly scrolling through Google’s answers on how to fix this situation while trying to make sure that our pasta wouldn’t somehow burn and catch fire.

Luckily, we had a Christmas miracle come early this year (or very late??) and Patrick’s computer finally turned on after attempting to restart 12 times.

What a night 2.0.

#Vienna #Salzburg #Salzburg Semester #Studying Abroad

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