#this came to me as i was falling asleep yesterday. alas i stopped falling asleep immediately

[deltastorm101]

i do but i can‘t see it can you feel the breeze i don‘t but i believe it

alan and alice meet. a tiny, angsty piece, set after the “ending” of the first “loop”.

inspired by these pieces by @artevalentinapaz :3

[satoruhour]

oh my god, i dont know if you write for this specifically (feel free to disregard if you don’t), but I’ve been thinking about satosugu x reader,,, imagine kissing the both of them!! spending a nice summer day with them!! just being able to enjoy spending time with the two of them!! I dont know if its my love for both of these characters and their relationship, but i just like thinking abt that dynamic,,,

a/n: wrote this yesterday to upload today since it was a loaded day today ❤️ enjoy. hope it’s up to standard cause i havent written fluff in a long time! / 1.3k, poly!satosugu x reader

sleep-ins were popular amongst the three of you. before you, suguru had his own routine of waking up early to brew some tea for himself, to get the laundry going . .

satoru, on his own, was a light sleeper, sitting straight up at any hint of sound due to his sorcerer duties but after moving in with geto, he’s been letting the long-haired man to do all the work.

and here came you, waltzing back into their lives (and apartment) after teaching at kyoto for just a few months until you couldn’t stand gakuganji and headed right back to your alma mater.

it wasn’t difficult to maintain the dynamic the three of you had from your school days, except maybe unspoken feelings and lingering glances until the two men were gassing each other up to ask you.

you’re not even sure how you even got roped in — old feelings, a crave for the younger days, the allure of satoru, the wonder of suguru — but now you’re stick in between both of them wanting to pee so badly.

alas, your body is trapped under gojo’s protective leg and geto’s gentler wrapped arm, but you still feel your bladder about to burst, trying one last time until your body is slammed back into bed.

“hm . . what’re you doing?” is gojo’s first raspy call out to you as he curls his calf around you even more, and you sigh, turning to him to brush his fringe from his face.

“i need to pee, satoru.”

“no.” and you roll your eyes because he’s always whiny like that and you’d usually employ suguru to do your bidding but he’s fast asleep, still. this was another thing: both you and gojo have inextricably fucked with his routine because now he’s more inclined to sleep in than drink his morning tea. he realised this one day when he was doing laundry, in the afternoon.

“’toru, pleeaasee?” you pout even if he can’t see and like a good boyfriend, he senses your features pulled into a face specifically meant to make him feel bad, and cracks his eyes open.

“oh, youuuu—” gojo scrunches up his eyes and squeezes, and then steals you from geto’s arm, trapping you with tight arms wound around your middle, “stop it with the eyes!”

you giggle, using your free hands to relax the tightness in his brows, using that opportunity to forcibly open his eyes and then you hit him again — knitted eyebrows and doe eyes, and a perfect pout that has gojo grumbling under his breath. silently, you wiggle yourself just enough to reach his face so you can place a peck on his lips and he hums.

another, his eyes say and you indulge him, sinking into his embrace and letting him guide you back to his mouth. morning breath is nothing to the both of you, grinning into the kiss when satoru loses himself and his embrace starts to loosen. the kiss still holds you captive, though, the other moaning softly when you deepen it with some tongue.

“you’re just going to leave me hangin’?” geto’s voice calls out from beside you, and gojo’s excited suguru! gives you just that sliver of time to slip away from the two as they catch up but—

“you’re not going anywhere, missus,” gojo pulls on your arm and you’re falling back into your space in the middle of the both of them, greeted with geto’s lovely laugh and his gentle gaze.

“good morning my loves,” he says, arm draped over the both of you before he leans down to give you a kiss while gojo replies with a good morning as well, also giving a peck to your temple. “what’s on the agenda today?”

“lazing in—”

“i need to pee, firstly,” you pipe up, cutting gojo off and patting his puffed out cheeks. grabbing his face, you wiggle his head just to emphasise your point, “your man here has been preventing me from going to the bathroom.”

“ahem! our man,” gojo corrects, sticking his tongue out just enough to lick your hand and you shriek in disgust while his giggles only fill the room.

“satoru, c’mon, let her go.” and again, the other only cuddles you closer to him, long, lanky limbs trapping your body. geto has a hand on yours like he’s trying his best to console you.

“but— she’s so much nicer to cuddle! did i ever tell you suguru once hit me in the face with his arm?”

and you laugh while the other only sighs and chaos erupts once he stands up and says in faux disappointment — “okay, i’m making breakfast for myself only. guess i lost two partners today.”

“hello?! i didn’t even do anything!” you shout in incredulity, words muffled once gojo slaps a hand over your mouth and laughs, watching through the bathroom mirror at how he chuckles at the both of you. you lick gojo’s hand and he moans obnoxiously.

geto did end up making the both of you some breakfast after some convincing (it was mostly gojo yelling “pleasepleaseplease” in the bathroom and interrupting brushing teeth time), but he’s got around it with a sloppy kiss given to the both of you, sat at the wooden table you commissioned — large enough to bring friends over but small enough for it to feel intimate with your two boyfriends.

“on the real agenda, we need to go for some grocery shopping,” geto suggests, reaching diagonally to you to wipe off the bits of strawberry lingering at the corner of your lips and gojo shouts a loud oh!, running from the table to grab his phone that he’s left on the bedside table. naturally, he has become so enamoured with the both of you that he doesn’t even need his phone to entertain him that much.

“i made the list like you asked, sugu,” and you’re giggling when you see his eyebrow raise, positive that on the list, there was more of what the house didn’t need than what it did.

silently, you’re helping to clear all three of your plates that had coatings of maple syrup on it, apart from gojo’s who licked his squeaky clean. a smile spreads across your face when you hear them bicker, a common occurrence.

“baby, there’s more candy than actual groceries on here.”

“but suguruuuu . .” gojo pulls this all the time and it hardly works on geto any more, so the both of them invade your cleaning escapades to argue. like the devil on one shoulder and the angel on the other, satoru sucks up to your boyfriend, suguru appeals to you.

“should we listen to him?” leaning against the counter, geto rests his arm around your torso, sidling right up to your face who only gives him a small grin.

gojo follows suit. “sweetness, don’t listen to him. you know you love the sweets i buy, i’ll even buy you your favourite brand!”

here in this kitchen in the house that gojo had no problem expanding to accommodate the both of you were all that you know in this mess of a world, destined to exorcise curses for as long as you live, but it wasn’t so bad when you had the strongest duo beside you, talking over each other on whether meiji chocolate was more important than buying celery for tonight’s dinner. 

“boys.” turning off the tap, you shake off the water and turn around in their arms only to see what had escalated: geto ready to summon a curse, gojo crossing his fingers in his muryōkūsho pose, all the while keeping an arm around you like everything’s fine. and as chaotic dating the both of them were, you don’t mind putting both their hands down and calming the situation down.

with a laugh, you give one kiss to both cheeks. “let’s just buy both, okay?”

and satoru leaps to hug you, planting endless kisses on your face while suguru sighs, then smiles, defeated. “plus, we can just make ’toru pay for everything, can’t we?”

“and then make him cook tonight.” you suggest, not-so-quietly.

gojo stops, “hey!”

i didnt write the grocery shopping part since i alr rambled off about it here but maybe next time we’ll see :)

[dadddybangtan]

Suck Torture | 19 🩸

cw: a little bit of gore, mentions of nvdity

word count: 2.3k

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We'd fallen asleep naked and woke up just the same. Beomgyu's head rested beautifully on my chest. My hands caressed his warm, tan skin and his signature husky scent filled me with comfort. He stirred a bit before lifting up his head to look at me with his low, sleepy eyes.

"Wow." I muttered.

"Hm?"

"You're cute even when you first wake up."

He sat up next to me as I watched his face fall from a small smile. Something was bothering him, but of course I didn't know what.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong." He said, but I wasn't convinced. Especially when he fidgeted with that bracelet on his wrist.

"Beomgyu, please talk to me."

He fiddled with the beaded bracelet for a bit longer. When he looked at me, my heart sunk. Something somber was lurking behind his eyes, plaguing his mind and holding his tongue.

"Beomgyu." I pressed.

"Stop," He snapped, "Stop telling me to open up and talk when I barely know anything about you. You love me because you saw me at my lowest and I love you because of that... But, I felt the scratches on your back, the burn mark on your hand. I saw the bite mark too. Hell, I don't even know what happened with the council yesterday. You told me to talk but if you loved me, you'd talk too."

I shivered at the mere mention of the council meeting. I was hoping to avoid the results of that for as long as I could. Beomgyu cared and I was hesitant to tell him.

"You're right. I told you about my hand, that was my fault," I said lowly, "If you must know, the scratches on my back are from Felix. As you can imagine, he plays rough... And the council?"

I paused. Talking about it out loud practically transported me back to that old church. The sound of Niki's screaming cursed my memory. And seeing a side of my own father that I couldn't trust wasn't ideal.

"Let's say I only came home with my mother and sister."

"What? What about Niki and your dad?"

"They arrested my dad for treason," I struggled to make out, "And Niki... They, uhm, they're going to execute him to protect the treaty and the spell. He bit me yesterday because I was trying to stop him from killing the council members..."

I could see it on his face that he didn't know what to say. I wouldn't have either. When I said intensity was in my DNA, I meant it.

"Hyunjin, I'm so sorry."

"It's okay," I breathed out, "As upsetting as it is, it's a blessing in disguise. My dad only adopted Niki to have an heir in the council. We don't need someone like that in our family... And with them killing Niki, Felix's blackmail is obsolete. Meaning I'm free from him for good."

"And you're okay with this?"

No. I was never okay with discovering my father was a selfish, maniacal bastard. I didn't think Niki deserved to die. But alas, I had to find something to be grateful about. I still had my sister and my mother. And I didn't have to marry Felix. Unfortunately that's how it worked out. Unfortunately–

"I have to be okay with this."

Beomgyu's face fell in disappointment, most likely contemplating how complicated this was. Probably wondering what the hell he got himself into. While I was regretting telling him that ounce of drama, he held my hand and pulled me in for a hug.

The warmth of his skin almost made all that turmoil worth going through. All of the emotional torture of the last month had led to him finally holding me like that. I could finally take a breath that didn't trip on the thoughts in my troubled head. It was the closest I've ever felt to being human.

"I know it's a lot, but I'm glad you opened up to me." He said.

"I'm glad you opened your heart to me, Beomgyu," I kissed his bare chest, "I love you."

"I love you too."

Just then, his phone vibrated in the distance. We scrambled around the bed to find the pants he'd left them in. When I found it I saw that Taehyun was calling so I gave Beomgyu his phone.

"Hey, what's up... Yeah, I'm feeling okay. Oh, already? Okay, that sounds good... Okay, bye."

"What's going on?"

"Taehyun and Yeonjun are coming to pick me up. And then we're heading to the orphanage." His voice sounded a bit weak through the last line.

"The orphanage?"

"They, uhh, wanna donate Kai's plushies," He choked, "Today."

"Oh." My stomach turned. I was almost able to forget that Kai was an innocent victim to Niki.

"I'm just gonna try to snag one of them before we drop them off, y'know, to remember him by."

I only nodded. I wanted to tell him that he was the kindest soul I've ever known. He was able to console me losing my brother even though my brother killed his friend. I knew that if I poured my heart to him, it'd make it worse. I could only hope that he knew how strong he was.

I walked Beomgyu out of the door and Taehyun was there to meet him. He was wearing a tracksuit similar to how I saw him the other morning. And he looked handsome.

"Thanks for taking care of him." He said.

"Of course."

Beomgyu gave me another hug before leaving with Taehyun. I watched him get into the car with Beomgyu going in the backseat. I felt the side of my lip curl up. I had already missed them, but I knew I'd see them again.

As they drove off, I heard a unique sound coming from behind me; rolling luggage on the tiled floor. I turned around and my heart ached in confusion.

"Yeji?"

"Oh great, you already have the door open." She snarked.

"Where are you going?"

"They offer women's studies in America now, so probably there." She said, pushing past me out of the door.

"Yeji," I grabbed her arm and her eyes shot back at me, "You're leaving?"

"Obviously." She tried to break away, but I held on tighter.

"Why are you leaving now? We need you."

"We needed you too, Hyunjin," Her voice cracked, "But you ran to Beomgyu. So I'm running too."

"Yeji, you don't understand–."

"And I don't want to. I can't trust you, I can't trust my own father and I don't want to stick around long enough to find out who else I can't trust."

I was breathless, speechless. How could I object her. Our father failed her, I failed her.

"I-I'm sorry."

"You should be. I hope he was worth it."

I finally let her go and she walked away. Everything Beomgyu filled me with left with Yeji.

"You're not flying?"

"Flying is for monsters. I'll get there like a human since they're the only decent beings on this planet."

I took that as a complete renunciation of vampires. I was offended for only a moment before I remembered that even I don't want to be what I am.

How to cope with such a feeling but to saunter up the tower in the lonely mansion. I dragged my feet up the spiral stone staircase and run my fingertips under the family heirlooms on the wall. I came across a specific artifact that caught my eye, the Hwang athame we use to transfer the families powers.

It stayed in a small nook in the wall protected by a glass case, submerged in a red velvet cushion. The blade was so pure, I saw my reflection in it. I popped open the case and took the heirloom in my hand. Going further up the stairs, I came across the infamous wine, called formally Power Potion, in a similar case to the athame.

At the time, I didn't understand what my brain was doing when it decided to retrieve those certain items. But when I look back and recall the event, I can only infer that something dark and selfish took over me.

"It's kinda spooky," Beomgyu chuckled as we the walked up the spiral stairway, "And we've been climbing for a while now."

"We're almost there." I said.

And just a few steps later, we reached the top of the tower and the big, vacant room. Although it wasn't that vacant when we arrived. I set up a romantic dinner for him, for us. I had the staff prepare something human commoners enjoy. That resulted in two bowls of ramen with a hard boiled egg and wine atop of a large, black blanket. I decorated the area with white tea light candles and rose petals from the garden. It was that of an indoor picnic and I saw Beomgyu's eyes light up when he saw it.

"Oh my God, Hyunjin. This is," He smiled and walked over to the display, "Oh, no garlic bread?"

He charmingly laughed at his own joke and I just looked at him in awe. He was truly so different from anyone else I'd ever loved. How was he able to joke around with those bites and hand marks still healing on his neck. He sat on an empty space on the blanket and I joined him.

"Beomgyu," I said softly, watching his pure, big brown eyes look at me with utmost sincerity, "I really do love you. And every minute I spend with you, I fall more in love."

"I love you too." The corner of his mouth twitched as he reached to grab a pair of chopsticks.

I didn't believe him. And there was no window to his thoughts to confirm or deny.

"Are you in love with me?"

His gaze bounced between my eyes aimlessly, mouth parted without a word coming out.

"I- I think I am," He stuttered, causing me to tilt my head in question, "I've never been in love before. I don't know what it feels like."

I couldn't help but chuckle a bit. I often forgot about his much younger age and lack of experience. I've been in love a few times, each with a different intensity.

My first love was quite immature. It felt like touching sand on the beach for the first time. A new sensation, a cool touch, with grainy bits that get washed away so easily. My second love was that of a rainstorm. Affection that roared like thunder and brief strikes of life threatening drama. All drowned in the name of love. Third and fourth felt like a warm day with a cool breeze. Matches so perfect yet so passionless. Like watching the day go on and seeing it end in the blink of an eye.

But Beomgyu...

It felt like sitting by a fire with a blizzard outside. Warmth against the cold chaos. It felt that if I were even a centimeter away from his blazing presence, I'd freeze to death.

"It feels warm. Comforting. Safe," I say, grabbing his warm hand, "Like nothing bad could happen as long as we're together."

"That's how you feel about me?"

"Yes... More than you know."

"I feel that way about you too."

I squeezed his hand again, knowing that would be the last time I'd feel his warmth.

"Then we should cheers," I say lifting my wine glass with my free hand, Beomgyu following, "To eternal love."

We clinked our glasses together. I pursed my lips on the glass without taking a sip and watched Beomgyu drink his. His adam's apple bobbed with every gulp as he took the drink in full.

Beomgyu held the glass to his chest when his was done. His lips were red with wine and blood, unable to keep his eyes open. His posture became weak as he fell into my lap. I felt the warmth drain from his hand. His body twitched and spazzed in small bursts.

"Hyunjin..."

"Yes, Beomgyu."

"What's happening to me?" He winced in pain.

"It'll be over soon," I whispered, "You'll be okay."

He took a long, sharp breath before his body calmed itself down. He slowly sat up again. He took his hand from mine and carefully examined it. He was much paler than before.

"Hyunjin," He said, finally looking at me, dark red eyes and prominent canines blessing his face, "What did you do?”

The pain in his voice broke me.

"I-," I was lost for words. It seemed I was asking myself the same question, "I did what I had to."

"Answer the fucking question, no bullshit. What the fuck did you do?"

"I turned you."

He let out a shaky breath that sent a chill down my spine. He looked at his pale, trembling hands again, veins nearing a violet shade that wasn't there before.

"And you didn't think to ask me?"

"I knew you'd say no."

"Then why did you do it?" He screamed.

"It's the only way I can protect you." My voice echoed off the walls.

"Was it really for protection... Or was it just the only way to guarantee that eternal love."

"What? No.”

"Then answer this; have you ever been in love with a mortal?"

"Yes."

"A mortal who knew what you were."

I was rendered speechless.

"A mortal you had to watch grow old and die as you stayed the same age in which they fell in and out of love with you."

"Beomgyu, you don't understand."

"I do understand... You're fucking selfish. And for you to call this as a form of protection," He shuttered, "You're sick. You're fucking sick."

"Beomgyu, please." I pled as I watched him get up and leave.

"I can't believe I ever trusted you." He screamed before running away.

[malleux]

little one. | k.a

-> Pairing: Kaeya Alberich x Parent!Fem!Reader

-> Genre: Fluff, More platonic than romantic idk reader has feelings they’re not too acted upon

-> Requested: Yes

-> “ooooh! can i have a single parent!au for whoever you choose in genshin?? thank you!”

-> Summary: Kaeya accidentally meets your daughter

-> A/N: this is the cutest ask ever, and if you know me from my other writing accounts, you’d know that i’m a sucker for au’s! i did take some personal liberties ofc because the request wasn’t really specific. thank you anon! this fic really didn’t turn out the way i had wanted, but i didn’t know how to incorporate all of my ideas, so maybe i’ll do a part two who knows :)

Being an adventurer was a difficult job. Being a mother was also quite difficult. Being both was even worse.

Completing quests and going on daring missions was one of your favorite things to do, but protecting Ella was your priority.

Your five-year-old was your pride and joy, the best thing to ever happen to you, despite you having her at a young age. You and your daughter lived a happy life that you kept completely separate from your adventurer work. Nobody except for Jean and Lisa even knew about Ella, as you preferred to leave her with a babysitter on the days you were around town.

Ella was with the babysitter now, as you were sitting at a desk in the library, researching more on Abyss Mages before taking on a commission that included them. Your mind wandered, though, imagining how Ella would make you play dolls with her when you got home. She’d then play by herself for a bit while you cooked dinner, only to bathe and fall asleep very quickly after that. Goodness, you really missed her-

“Y/N! Just the girl I was looking for.”

You peeked up from your book, quirking an eyebrow. “You were looking for me?”

“I just wanted to remind you about tonight.” Kaeya chuckled, laying his hand on the top of the sword attached to his hip. “You promised me you’d get a drink with me this evening, remember?”

Ah, shit. You did remember.

You’d lost a bet yesterday with Kaeya, and his reward was you stopping by Diluc’s tavern with him for a few drinks. You hadn’t drank since you became pregnant. Kaeya didn’t know this, of course. You’d only moved to Mondstadt a few months ago, but you’d become close friends with the Calvary Captain and the other knights.

Yet, you couldn’t bring yourself to tell everybody about your daughter. Especially those who you may be slightly... romantically interested in. You’d had men in your life before who knew of Ella. They’d ultimately left, leaving both you and your daughter heartbroken. You kept her a secret from then on, unable to put your daughter through that again.

“Yeah, yeah. I remember.”

“You better. I’ll pick you up from your place this evening.” Kaeya winked at you- or blinked, you really couldn’t tell with that god-awful eyepatch- and walked back to his own office. You blushed at the thought of being alone with him.

Was it like a date? Just two friends getting drinks after work? What? You slightly hoped for the former.

There was no denying that Kaeya was an extremely attractive individual. He was everything you wanted in a man, plus some. You often daydreamed about what it would be like to be with the Cryo user- how happy Ella would be around him and how well he may be with children. You imagined your family to be happy. But alas, that was just a daydream.

One that you had to quit imagining. You were getting too hopeful.

You shook your head and closed the book, deciding to head out of Mondstadt to complete the commission.

꧁꧂

“Mommy!”

A grin appeared on your face as you scooped your daughter into your arms, spinning her around in a hug. Ella’s babysitter stood in the doorway with a smile on her face, watching your toddler tell you about her day.

You walked over to the older lady, smiling back apologetically. “I’m sorry to ask this, but I completely forgot that I had promised a co-worker to go out with them tonight. Would it be any hassle for you to keep her a little longer?”

“Of course not.” The sitter waved her hand and you set down Ella, who skipped to her room to play.

“Thank you so much,” You sighed, “I promise you’ll be compensated.”

She only laughed and turned to go into your daughter’s room, leaving you to head to yours.

You began getting ready, but you had to pause, feeling anxiety sink into your chest. It had been a while since you'd had feelings for someone and while this evening may be a casual, platonic outing to Kaeya, it was nothing less than nerve-wracking for you.

Was it platonic, though? Kaeya was always quite the flirter with you- but he was like that with others, too, wasn’t he? Was this a simple co-worker get-together, or was he picking you up from your house for a potential date?

Wait, picking you up from your house?

Kaeya was coming over to get you. To walk with you to the tavern.

You internally panicked. Ella always cried before you left and today was probably no exception. You weren’t ready for him to know about your daughter yet. That was something for when you were 100% sure he wouldn’t be weirded out. He wouldn’t, you were sure, but your nerves definitely told you otherwise.

“Miss Y/N? There’s someone at the door.”

You froze in your spot for a second, but thanked the babysitter and rushed to the front door.

“Hello little one.”

“My mommy’s in her room getting ready!”

“Oh, is she now? She’s getting all prettied up?”

“Mommy’s already pretty!”

“Aha, yes she is.”

You couldn’t help but wince at the sound of Ella and Kaeya’s voices. All secrets were out the window now, you supposed. You came to the doorway and scooped Ella into your arms, giving Kaeya a weary smile.

“I’m sorry for making you wait, I’m ready when you are.”

Kaeya chuckled, “Let’s go, then. I do believe that we have a lot to talk about now.”

You sighed and put your daughter down, giving her a kiss on the forehead before following Kaeya to the tavern. The walk was silent, but your mind wasn’t. You were dreading whatever “talk” Kaeya had mentioned, already fearing the worst. He’s a rather liberated man- there’s no way he’d be interested in a girl with a kid, right? That would tie him down too much.

Your panic attack was cut short as Kaeya entered the tavern and loudly greeted the people inside, leading you to a seat in the corner of the room. You sat silently, fiddling with your fingers and avoiding Kaeya’s gaze.

“So, when were you gonna tell anyone?” His voice made you look up.

“I mean, Jean and Lisa know...”

“And I didn’t? I thought we were close, Y/N.” There was an obvious joking tone to his voice, but you still felt a sharp pain in your heart. You felt guilty.

“I just don’t want a lot of people knowing of Ella. It gets complicated, especially being an adventurer with some enemies. Friendships can get complicated, too.” And relationships, you refrained from saying. “Please don’t see me any differently-“

“See you any differently? Why would I do that?” Kaeya furrowed his eyebrows. “I already adore having one of you around, so it’s even better that you’ve got a cute little mini-me running around too. I understand it gets hard, but you’ve got Jean and Lisa, and now me, to help you out. I’ve only met her once, but I love her already.”

Your chest warmed at his words and you gave him a small smile. Kaeya returned it and looked down at the table, reaching towards your hand and giving it a tight squeeze. “There are no ill feelings towards you just because of that. Some people aren’t too supportive of single parents, but that’s not who I am. Anything you need, you can count on Kaeya to help.”

“Thank you...”

You squeezed his hand back and he beckoned a waiter over. The evening was spent drinking and laughing, never once releasing hands.

[ozzy-bozzy]

Afternoon at the Skatepark

Reki x Reader x Langa

desc. You and the boys head to the skatepark to hang out after work

genre. Fun friendly fluff :D

warnings. nopee

word count. 1.6k

a/n: heyyy heh... back w another fic :3 i TOLD yall I would jump on Sk8 and write fics for it !! but alas, per tradition, I wrote this while sleep deprived and constantly doubting my writing so enjoy. if the ending or literally anything sounds weird blame it on me getting no sleep ever but also constantly being asleep

You listened to the occasional passing car, the sound of your own breathing, and the tapping of your foot louder. The quiet music playing in the shop began to annoy you as it started looping for about the third time during today’s shift. You had just finished wiping down the front counter, slowly rolling a tech deck back and forth with your fingers. You leaned your head on your other hand and sighed, looking up at the clock for the umpteenth time. Soon your shift would be over, and you could go home and relax. By the second you were starting to regret covering for your coworker’s shift.

You worked in a rather popular skate shop in town. You loved the aesthetic of the shop; posters, skateboards, and printed shirts lined the walls. You remember walking in on the first day and immediately falling in love. The owner was so happy to see how excited you were for work. 

Smiling back at the memory, you did a little ollie on the desk, accidentally sending it flying when the front door swung open, fluffy bright auburn and baby blue hair immediately catching your eye. Their conversation immediately halted when Reki turned and made eye contact with you. You both paused, staring at each other, before he ran across the shop floor and almost jumped up on the counter, with the brightest eyes,

“I didn’t know you were working today!” he cried out at you,

“Ah! Yeah… I’m covering a coworker’s shift, she couldn’t make it…” you sheepishly rubbed the back of your neck when Langa stepped up,

“You look...really bored…” You just blinked up at him, slowly becoming embarrassingly flushed.

“Is your shift almost over?” Reki had sloped down against the counter, his fingers now playing with the tech deck. You nodded at his question.

“Yeah, I’ve been bored for hours and I can’t wait to leave” You sighed, and Reki jumped back up

“Hey! If your shift is just about over, why don’t you come with us to hang out afterward?”

“I don't…”

“It’ll be fun! Right, Langa?”

“...yeah, and besides… you could probably use it” He gave you a small smile that you couldn’t help but return.  Reki was beating his fingers against the counter, waiting for your answer,

“Okay, okay sure yeah why not. You guys can hang out for about fifteen more minutes and then I can go grab my stuff from the back.” Reki started to cheer. 

Reki pushed away from the counter and immediately went over to look at the boards. Langa watched the skateboard toy roll across the counter when Reki let go of it, and then turned to look around the store. He was looking around at all the colorful posters, graphic hoodies, and signed shirts from famous bands or skaters. He could definitely see why Reki kept going on and on about bringing him here. 

“You know, Langa, you can put your bag down behind the counter so you don’t have to carry it around” You offered your hand out to him, and his eyes were stuck staring at your form. You cocked your head to the side when he didn’t answer, and he seemingly snapped out of it, his pale cheeks flushing,

“Sorry... And thank you” He handed you his shoulder bag and while you bent over to put it away, he fiddled with his fingers,

“Hey, I’m actually really excited to see you skate with us, I hope you can teach me something new or give me some tips” You jolted back up and Reki burst into a fit of laughter before coming back to lean on Langa’s shoulder,

“Ohoho! I almost forgot to mention!” You immediately tried to signal him to shut the hell up, but Reki being the little troublemaker he is, chose to ignore you,

“Our dear friend here doesn’t know how to skate!” You sighed. Yeah, you didn’t know how to skate. You worked in a skate shop and really loved your job, but you didn’t know how to skate. Your friends and coworkers always liked to tease you for it, and you always meant to learn, but never actually did. 

You shrunk in on yourself, muddled in your embarrassment when Langa let out a small laugh,

“Yeah yeah, I get it, the girl who works in a skate shop doesn’t know how to stake. Big deal. You don't have to rub it in—”

“No no, that’s not why I’m laughing. I don't know how to skate either. Reki is teaching me”

“Wait, really?” he nods. “I never could have guessed!”

You two smiled at each other and Reki laughed again, before going back to admire the trucks on a board he had picked up off the shelf. 

Once your shift ended, you and the boys headed out of the shop. You were headed to the local skatepark, but in the middle of explaining the plans, Reki and Langa’s stomach grumbled, so first, you were off to get some lunch. 

After debating on what to get for lunch, and then debating what to order after Reki’s teasing, you guys had ended up at the skatepark. Reki did a quick stretch and quickly jumped on his board, climbing the quarter pipe effortlessly. You watched in awe, never able to understand how he could skate so easily. Langa pulled out his board and passed you, setting his things down before walking closer to the ramp. You followed him, and Reki offered you his hand. You reached for him, and he pulled you up, sitting pressed to his side while he hooked his board on the rim using the back wheels. Kicking his feet, he ponders to himself while Langa waits for him to speak up.

“Oh, oh! I know! How about you keep working on that practice routine I showed you yesterday, it’ll definitely help in your next beef!” Langa seemed to think it over a bit, before nodding and skating off to find more space.

“Routine…?” You ask,

“Mhmm! I’m trying to get him to learn more tricks and tactics so he can win more beefs at ‘S’. He can’t just keep taping his feet to the board if he means to keep skating.”

“Ohh, well he seems to be doing just fine!”

“He’s improved really fast, he doesn’t fall as much anymore—” Right when he said that, Langa let out a yelp and fell flat on his back, his board flying out from under him, “That being said, he still falls occasionally. Hey, Langa! Why don’t you come take a break and I’ll skate around for a bit?” Langa nodded and skated over to the quarter pipe while Reki stood, gliding down and heading towards the grind rails to practice his own tricks. 

Langa took his spot next to you, leaning back and closing his eyes, taking in the nice weather. You turned to him and smiled,

“You’re getting really good! I don't know how you manage to ride it so easily even though you’re still learning”

Langa blinked at you silently, and sheepishly rubbed his neck,

“Thanks… You know I’m sure if you gave it a try you would be pretty good yourself.”

“Ahh! I appreciate the thought! But, I’ve already..kinda..attempted...In the past, and it just didn’t seem to work out in the past. I’m much more content providing you and Reki and people like you two with gear and good customer service..” Reki skated his way over.

“Nope! You’re trying again.”

“Wait wh— “

“Come on! Slide down!”

Langa gave you a gentle push, before sliding down the ramp himself and Reki pulled

you over by the hands to his board. You hesitantly put one foot on the board but you could feel your legs start to shake when you try to lift off the ground. Langa came up next to you and offered you his hand. Gripping it, you managed to stand on the board. He slowly tried to let your hands go so you could balance on your own, but once you were totally on your own you swung your arms around until finding balance. Actually standing on the board felt… weirdly nice. It wasn’t as scary as you first thought, especially after taking the initiative to start. You heard Reki call your name, snapping his fingers. He stood a good few feet in front of you, his arms outstretched, waiting to catch you,

“Well? Come on! Kick off the ground and push yourself over here”

“Reki I can’t—”

“Sure you can!” Like it didn’t even need to be said, Langa put his hand on the small of your back and slowly pushed you to give you a head start. That’s when you started losing your balance. You glided forward towards Reki on the board, and not knowing how to stop, you started shifting your weight and you heard Langa start to say something and turned to look at him when the board flew out from under your feet and you fell back into Reki’s arms. His arms hooked under yours, holding your top half up against him. Langa starts to panic, asking if you’re okay or hurt. For someone who gets hurt from learning to skate on the regular, he sure does worry when someone else gets hurt. 

Your gaze just shifts between the two, one more worried than the other, but still worried. Your face cracks into a grin and you start laughing, pushing yourself up to stand properly in Reki’s hold. You grasp his hands in yours, and bring them up,

“Please teach me to skate!!”

The two boys stopped, their faces changing from concerned to confused, before lighting up. You had never seen them smile brighter.

[lorei-writes]

(Not so) Infinite Bachelor State

Arthur Conan Doyle x MC Fluff

Written for: Dice be Nice Request: @saphyhowl Roll: Arthur + Arranged Marriage AU + A curse/A spell gone wrong Word Estimate: 3k

Whew, here it is! 

Content Warnings: alcohol (mention) 

Truthfully, there was one thing Arthur always despised about his position as the heir – there was always somebody, or even multiple somebodies, always knowing better and always thinking he owed them everything, obedience included. Perhaps if they cared enough to properly talk with him, they’d learn he never asked to be put in this position, that if it depended entirely on him, he’d chose a different life, he’d be a different person, and… Well, plenty other noble things, surely. Alas, they never seemed to be interested in the matter enough, only ever being preoccupied with how harmless or harmful his various escapades and romances – ah, the way the youth acts out, they would sigh – were to the family name. The games had to end, however.

Truthfully, there was one thing Arthur always despised about his position as the heir – there was always somebody, or even multiple somebodies, always knowing better and always thinking he owed them everything, obedience included. Perhaps if they cared enough to properly talk with him, they’d learn he never asked to be put in this position, that if it depended entirely on him, he’d chose a different life, he’d be a different person, and… Well, plenty other noble things, surely. Alas, they never seemed to be interested in the matter enough, only ever being preoccupied with how harmless or harmful his various escapades and romances – ah, the way the youth acts out, they would sigh – were to the family name. The games had to end, however.

“I am no decorative bird up to being displayed in a cage, sir, no,” Arthur exclaimed, storming out of the room. The door shut behind him violently, various relatives shaking within the constraints of their portraits covering nearly the entirety of the wall. Perhaps if he looked back, he’d feel their glares on himself, all the esteemed aunties and uncles being appalled by such treatment of the elderly, even if long dead. Arthur didn’t do it, however, all the seemingly vengeful looks being thus directed at the first brave soul willing to step out of the study, an elderly man pushing the door anxiously, as if wishing to make up for excess commotion with negative noise. “Young master, please, wait, wait!” he spoke in a hushed voice, rushing towards Arthur in an odd sort of semi-run enforced by wear of much too formal kind to easily allow for such frivolous activities. “I’ve said all I had to say, and please, do not make me repeat myself. Late mother’s bust would surely turn into an earless one if that were to be the case.” Arthur gestured angrily. “But master!” “Master? I am truly quite a powerless one!” He stopped abruptly and turned around, pointing an accusatory finger at the man. “And you did not drop me even a hint of warning, not even a word! I could have been long gone form this sorry place, could have eloped and…!” A sigh leaving his lips, Arthur shook his head and resumed walking at a much slower pace. “Young master, I am deeply sorry. Your uncles – they are quite hardy men to propose such an idea, and simple caretaker, I –” “I know, I am aware. You could do little, couldn’t you? Ahh, those bloody, money-thirsty, motherfu – !” “Young master, this is not the language I have taught you!” the man cut him off mid-word. “Mother… Lovers,” Arthur finished after a pause. “Cursed be their fate for arranging this fate, and cursed be mine!”

The front door of the mansion having seemingly materialised before them, Arthur pushed it open, fully intending to drown his sorrows in water of a rather unholy kind. At least then, to properly celebrate his last day as the bachelor, the bride already waiting somewhere in his estate.

***

For Arthur to wake up to the first lights of the day was rather unusual – for him to do so without a headache after such a night, and in his own bed? Plainly impossible. Arthur sat up abruptly, his memory hazy although in a familiar way, only the last few event being a little blurry. He sighed. The luckiest day of my life, eh?, he thought to himself, his back touching the mattress again, his head soon disappearing below the duvet.

Intending to fall asleep and perhaps even be late for his own – very unwelcome – wedding, Arthur opted to ignore the rushed steps outside of his room, being even more indifferent when the door opened and somebody stepped inside. Could it be his bride? Ah, heavens, as if he cared. She could be the nicest woman in the world, but this? This felt fake, so very unlike all the stories he had read. Wasn’t he capable of finding the one on his own, when the time came? Truly, to strip him off of his agency even in that regard, what a cruel – cursed – fate… “Young master?” Arthur groaned, the servant, his old care-taker, apparently being the one sent to unearth him. He pushed himself up. “Yes?” “Your uncles wanted to exchange a few words with you.”

Somewhat surprised, Arthur dragged himself out of the bed, fully expecting to hear either one of two messages – either the lady saw him in the city and wanted to call the marriage off (meaning the family name was spoiled beyond repair and he, Arthur, was the only one to blame for such a turn of events), or they truly wanted him to know something more about the situation than “you are getting married” by itself. It is no wonder his confusion only grew, the first few words being uttered having been spoken out just the day before, the entire conversation following the very same pattern. “Dearest uncles, I do believe you take me for a fool. I did drink a little yesterday, but be not mistaken, I do recall your scheme being revealed. It should be a wedding day today, shouldn’t it?” he ground the words through his teeth. The men looked at each other, no less puzzled. “Arthur, have you drank just now? The guests only just came few hours back, it’s – ”

They didn’t get to finish, however, Arthur already storming out of the room. A cruel joke, indeed, but it was never said he had to withstand such treatment, no. Somewhat annoyed, he walked the corridors, eventually sneaking out of the dreaded estate yet once again.

Arthur woke up with a start. Somewhat confused, he looked around, the room being no other place than his very own bedroom. The door opened, the servant stepping inside. “Ah, young master, I see that you’re awake,” the man spoke, a troubled smile on his face. “Your uncles wanted to exchange a few words with you.”

***

The days stretched, each beginning in the very same fashion. The time had seemingly started chasing after its own tail, thus stopping to progress on behalf of being stuck in a loop, memories of every attempt to break it being erased from nearly every mind – at least to Arthur’s knowledge, no other person appearing to realise what was happening around. At first martyred, Arthur cursed plenty (although quietly, as not to deprive dear mother’s bust off of her ears far too many times), fully convinced it would go on for no longer than a few days, consequently only extending the duration of his personal hell. The time seemed to have a different plan, however – and when a month passed, Arthur was certain, it would not move an hour more into the future. So to say, he was locked in an infinite sort of a bachelor state, eternally stuck on repeating the last day of his freedom from dreaded arranged marriage that ultimately, was one forever of days away.

At first he spent the time leisurely, each day listening to the very same explanations patiently, then opting to play along nicely, much less desperately than previously. For all he knew, he could both party and drink with friends, falling asleep just about anywhere and waking up in his very own – very comfortable – bed. Eventually getting tired of lengthy daily lecture of his uncles, Arthur came up with ways to shorten it significantly, asking questions as to get to the very bottom of matter and be able to go on with his endeavours. Having calmed down from the initial euphoria, he returned to his ordinary life, each day thinking up stories (although not writing them down, for the manuscripts wouldn’t last), indulging in reading, and perhaps spoiling his dog with a little more attention than usually. Few skills remained completely unobtainable to him, his personal library providing at least a single lifetime worth of information… And yet, despite all the things that he had learnt, Arthur began to feel lonely, no relationships developing in any way. There was no person he could confide in, no soul who’d feel compassion to him, no partner to converse with – and to keep the conversation alive during the next day, without the need to reintroduce the topic at hand.

Somewhat lost as to what he should do, Arthur began simply walking down the corridors of his very own estate, greeting the various guests who managed to arrive for his wedding on the day that would never end. Curious to the very bone, he found himself wondering who could the dreaded bride be, his uncles still having kept the name a secret from him. A goat can die only once, he thought, climbing the staircase leading to their study, his knuckles soon knocking onto the wooden door. A voice from behind it inviting him to come in, Arthur stepped inside, a question on his lips: “Dear uncle, a certain matter skipped me during our morning talk. What exactly… Is the name of my bride?” “Well…” “Well?” he inquired, leaning closer on the dark wooden desk. “The truth is, the lady in question requested not to tell you in particular. She arrived with her entourage yesterday, it was her only request…” “Dear uncle, please, we will be married tomorrow, what’s the difference?” The man paled, his hands trembling slightly. He weaved his fingers together, soon propping his head over his knuckles. “The thing is, we do not know ourselves. Or to be more precise, we do, but all of the ladies who had arrived seem to be of the same name. And which one… Which one, you see…” Arthur opened his eyes wider, his throat and mind alike refusing to co-operate – there were simply no words to explain his state. “I see,” he uttered, turning on his heel and leaving the room behind. A curious state of affairs, he reckoned.

***

One thing his library lacked were books on magic or ancient knowledge otherwise lost to time. Given how the loop did not extend past the period of one day, he was unable to obtain anything other than wares offered in the city’s bookshop, their selection being lacking at best. Unable to break the odd curse, Arthur found himself pacing, the monotonous chatter and otherwise strangely familiar dialogue turning his personal heaven into yet another kind of hell. Perhaps he needed rest? A few months passed and Arthur began to seek a solitary state, sneaking out to be by himself whenever an opportunity arose.

One of his most treasured spots was a lone swing, hung over a tree branch by his very father when Arthur was still a little boy. How did the line survive the years? He could not know, and truthfully, cared little of it, the place being secluded enough to grant him a moment of peace.  His dog sitting by the trunk, Arthur lifted his gaze, as if attempting to see through the tree crowns. “You don’t remember either, do you, Vic?” he sighed. “Although it can’t be much difference for a dog. Your days seem to be infinite either way, right?” he laughed softly. The pet rose his head. “What is it, my friend? You want me to play as well?” Vic yawned, getting up lazily as to sit before Arthur, two hopeful eyes staring at his owner lovingly. Having hoisted the animal into his lap, Arthur kicked the ground below them thus weakly propelling the swing. Absent-mindedly, he let his fingers brush through the soft fur, the wag of the tail earning Vic a little chuckle. “At the very least I’m stuck in here with you, Vic. An eternity with a dog seems much less lonely, heh…”

Too lost in his own thoughts, Arthur didn’t realise plenty things, one of them being the sun slowly sinking below the horizon – and the other one being a foreign sort of presence, a sudden inquiry startling him nearly to death. “Excuse me, have you just said ‘an eternity’?” a woman asked, leaning from behind the tree trunk. “Because, sir, you see… I seem to be stuck in an odd dream that nobody seems to be aware of.” Arthur snapped his head to look at her, their eyes locking. “Do you, by any chance… Do you wake up each day and start it in the very same manner, the very same news being revealed to you, over and over again? No matter where you fall asleep, what food you eat, what choices you make – all, everything, always the same?” he blurted out. The woman nodded in reply. “I’m Maria,” she added, extending her arm. “Arthur,” he replied, shaking her hand.

Finally, after so many days, they have met, the first breakthrough in lifting the curse having been made unknowingly.

***

To say her presence was uplifting would be an understatement, the couple growing to become friends rather fast – although it did cause few surprised glances here and there, few people wondering how two total strangers could act is if they knew each other for months on end. Each day they were asked of it, each day making up a new excuse, their explanations gradually growing more vibrant, almost detailed. As such, from a childhood friend, a long lost cousin and an apprentice he chatted with in the city few times, Maria ascended to being an orphan, estranged by her late uncles and aunts, and thus seeking support in the house of Doyle family, martyred by fate and unwelcoming humans alike. Arthur, on the other hand, evolved to don the alleged role of once met friendly, albeit unfortunate and rather superstitious, doctor-turned-writer, one who hated his very own creation beyond belief… Both introductions being lies, of course, they earned themselves pained sighs. There was little harm in it, though, wasn’t there, the memory of all other residents, of all other people, being erased with another day? Whenever they got bored, they made up new lies, all too aware that anything they’d do would be reversed. Somehow, the eternity ceased to appear merciless.

His hand holding hers, Arthur led Maria forward, careful as not to let any branches hurt her, this part of the groove still being fairly young. The setting sun finally starting to shine through the leaves, he relaxed, only the thrill of birds sounding off between the trees. A sigh of relief escaped his lungs. “Finally, some peace and quiet,” he laughed weakly, retreating his hand. “An almost married man shouldn’t do this, shouldn’t do that, I swear…” he trailed off, turning around to gaze at her. To his surprise, however, Maria stared at him intensely, her brows knitted together. “An… Almost married man?” she asked, his eyes opening wide in sudden realisation. “It’s not like this!” Arthur blurted out instantly, rising his arms in front of himself. “You see, tomorrow was to be my wedding, and today – or well, a couple hundred todays back – I was informed about it.” Maria shook her head in disbelief. “It’s not like this, I swear! It was arranged behind my back!” he exclaimed, her expression softening slightly. “I didn’t have a single say,” he sighed. “I cannot even find my bride, although she’s in this estate. Can you believe? She took a couple other girls by the same name, and my uncles – ” Arthur stopped abruptly, her arms shaking as she laughed, deeply and abundantly so, eventually even needing to rest her back against the tree as not to fall. “What’s so hilarious?” “You are!” she answered, few tears escaping her eyes. Maria brushed them off with the top of her hand. “And you didn’t tell me all this time? It could have been a clue to breaking this curse!” Arthur averted his gaze – and ever so observant, she followed him, eventually going even as far as to lean down and stare at him from below, a smile never leaving her lips. “Or… Perhaps there was some reason for this state of affairs?” she prompted giddily, already half-knowing the answer. His hand on the nape of his neck, a faint blush came onto his cheeks. “Perhaps, indeed.” “And what reason was it?” Maria asked, straightening her back a little. “I believe I’ve given you more than enough clues.” “I want to hear you say it.”

Wind played in the tree crowns, the sun hanging dangerously low. “Perhaps… I might have started to think I wouldn’t mind spending this eternity with you, Maria,” he mumbled, his head beginning to spin.

Arthur woke up in his very own bed, his ears ringing. Of course, he should have known better  - yet, it was too late for it. Still somewhat drowsy, he got up and began to hastily dress himself, fully aware that Maria was somewhere in the mansion, in the very same state. He confessed – and he would get to answer in return? Unthinkable! He needed to find out soon. The door to his room opened, the very same old servant peaking inside. “Young master?” the man mused, visibly surprised. “Your uncles wanted to excha –” “Yes, yes, a few words, a wedding, yada, yada,” Arthur cut him off, frantically buttoning up a mere minimum appropriate amount of buttons of his shirt. He stormed out of the room. “Young master! The wedding! It is today!” the servant shouted after him, but to no avail, Arthur being already far away, completely unable to think of anything but her.

As embarrassing as it was, it dawned on him he never once in the many months that had passed asked where Maria lived, her whereabout thus being a mystery to him. In any other case, he’d ask Vic for assistance, her scent usually having stuck to his clothes by the end of the day… In such a case, however, he was lost, and lost he rushed through the mansion, no staff being able to tell him where his particular Maria could be. Lacking any other clue, he stepped out into the courtyard, planning to spend even the entire day at the swing where they met. “Arthur!” He turned around – and there she was, running down the stairs extending from the balcony above, dressed still in her nightgown, her hair in utter disarray… Although he couldn’t help thinking it was lovely, no less. Maria showing no intention of slowing down, he opened his arms, the woman throwing herself into them. They tumbled to the ground, and he barely managed to catch a breath, the one he loved sealing his lips with hers in a rushed sort of kiss. Too little, too slow, too sweet, Arthur reckoned as they parted, his hand stroking her back lovingly. Their foreheads touching, he felt her fingers toy with the very top button of his shirt, his mind finding it less unusual than it should, perhaps, the notion that it would be all forgotten come morning still residing within his thoughts…

“Maria!” somebody called from the balcony. They froze. “Wait until the evening, for the love of god! You’re getting married to this man today! At least get a room!” The couple looked at each other in disbelief. “Today?!” they asked at the same time. “Today!” the servant exclaimed, finally catching up to Arthur. Wheezing heavily, he leaned on the door, sweat having come over his forehead. “The venue… Your uncles wanted to… Discuss… The venue… Last… Preparations…” he forced out of himself, yet was forgotten again, Arthur staring at Maria. “So you kept some secrets as well?” he teased, his bride laughing. “Partially. I did not know which Maria was to be married.”

Tag List: @cheese-ception , @kisara-16, @nad-zeta, @rikumorimachisgirl @bestbryn , @ichigoamamiya If you want to be tagged for my works, please, do let me know :D Please, specify fandoms as well.

[kiirokero]

Inure (KSJ)

Inure: To accept and grow accustomed to something undesirable

Part of the “Protect the Village!” Oneshot series.

Masterlist

Pairing: Banker!Seokjin x FinancialAdvisor!Reader

Genre: Fluff, angst, mutual pining, misunderstandings, a bit of suggestive content (?) idiots to lovers (kinda) 

Note: This was supposed to be out yesterday, but my dumbass fell asleep before I got to finish and polish it. I drank dumb bitch juice, apparently. 

Summary: Having strict, overbearing parents meant expectations, and those expectations pushed you to be a financial advisor for the sake of making them proud. Worst idea ever. Well... Maybe not. Besides, you got to meet Kim Seokjin.

Word Count: 6k

      “Taehyung... I’ve told you that eating half of your cookies every time you make a new batch isn’t good for business. You’re lucky Jimin and Jeongguk like your treats so much or you would be here filing for bankruptcy.” I scolded the younger boy in front of me. Taehyung gave me a sheepish smile as he scratched the back of his neck. “Sorry, Noona,” I sighed, shaking my head to relieve the small headache I had going on. 

      Taehyung was a good kid. Well... He was in his twenties, but he still had that childlike glow to him. But with the childlike glow came the less than logical decisions. “Tae, you still have loans to pay back and they’re coming up soon. I don’t want to be the pessimist, but it’s better to sell those cookies.” 

      Taehyung nodded, “Don’t worry! I got this!” He exclaimed, a determined grin on his face. “I’m sure you do, now you’re free to go do more fun things,” I chuckled, gathering all the paperwork that laid on my desk that detailed Taehyung’s finances. Boring stuff, really. “Thanks, Noona! Come by sometime, okay?” We waved goodbye, silence now encompassing my small plain office. 

     It wasn’t even lunch yet, and everything has already drained my will to stay awake. It’s not that I absolutely loathed my job. I enjoyed seeing Yoongi or Taehyung light up in joy when I told them they reached their business goal or answered their questions about the best way to save. It was satisfying.

But that doesn’t mean it wasn’t boring as hell sometimes. 

      Sometimes I wished I gave my parents a big middle finger and majored in art conservation. I’d rather be looking at 200-year-old paintings of dead people and bringing a portrait back to life rather than staring at paperwork with endless numbers printed on them. But, alas, I didn’t. Now here in Bangtan Village, I help the businesses (and occasional person) here thrive. 

      “Tired already?” My coworker, Hyejin, asked as she walked into my office. “An accurate observation,” I sighed, resting my forehead on my mahogany desk. “I assume Taehyung’s business is doing well then?” She chuckled, handing me some files that I’d have to look over later. “Now you know I can’t disclose client information, but let’s just say he’s lucky to have gluttons as friends.” I chuckled. 

     Hyejin snorted and shook her head. “That boy... Besides that I came in here to ask if you wanted to go out to dinner after work, but you really do look exhausted,” Hyejin’s face contorted into worry. She grabbed my face with both hands and moved it in different ways, looking at the consequences work related stress gave me. An acne breakout on my right temple, dark circles under my eyes, pale face. I’ll admit I didn’t look my best, but there wasn’t anything I could do about it. 

I had to work.

      “It’s fine, really. I’m fine. I just need more coffee,” I shrugged, gently moving away from her grasp. “Y/n, running on just coffee isn’t good for you either,” Hyejin pouted, gesturing to the 2 empty mug already sat on my desk. “It’s not ideal, but I can’t just not work,” I pointed out, “You haven’t taken any days off since you came down with the flu, in January, two years ago.” Hyejin deadpanned, “You need a break. I’m sure Yoongi and Taehyung won’t go bankrupt in a matter of three days,” 

      I groaned and slouched in my old leather desk chair. “But what if they do...?” I whined. “You’re being irrational.” Hyejin sarcastically whined back, mimicking my slouched shoulders and pouty lip. “Why don’t you just ask Mr. Kim to give you a couple days off?” She suggested. I laughed, “Mr. Kim? Overly handsome Mr. Kim that I can barely speak a word too without blubbering? Me? Talk to him?” 

      I chuckled some more and Hyejin gave me an unimpressed face. “It’s not that hard! What’s so bad about it?” She scrutinized. “What so hard? His handsome face! The way he says my name! His eyes! They make me loose all brain function like I’m not a college graduate,” I pointed out, because it was obvious. 

      Kim Seokjin. Manager of Bangtan Village’s bank. 28 years old, tall, the embodiment of professionalism. He looked as if god sculpted him. A modern rendition of Galatea. He had a demeanor that called for authority without question. When he walked by, you had to pay attention. 

      Some may say that this only affected me so badly because of my tiny crush on him. But I beg to differ. How could you look at that beautiful face and not stutter? How could you hear that voice and not swoon? How could your heart not skip a beat whenever he smiled or laughed? Even if he always played the boss role, I couldn’t help but fall.

      “You’re overreacting, it’s just-” Hyejin was cut off by a knock at the door. “Come in!” I called, sitting back up in my seat and dusting off my blouse. The door opened and the one and only Kim Seokjin walked in. Speak of the devil. “Good afternoon ladies,” He said with an unwavering smile. We replied with a ‘good afternoon’ back. 

“What brings you here?” I asked, fiddling with my hands. 

“I just wanted to ask your opinion on something,” Seokjin explained. 

      He walked further into the room, rounding my desk to stand beside my sitting form. He placed a folder in front of me, three sheets of paper spilling from the manilla cardstock. Seokjin leaned down next to me, one hand on my desk, one hand on the back of my chair. I could faintly smell his earthy cologne. 

      I cleared my throat, erasing the invasive thoughts of Seokjin from my mind. This was work, business, he needed your help with something. Calming my shaky hands, I grabbed the first sheet of paper, examining the printed black numbers and letters. The closer I looked, I spotted the bank’s name printed on the top and different amounts of money though a certain number of months below it. 

    “M-Mr. Kim, are these the statements for our bank?” I asked, flipping through the three pages that contained more information on money and spending. “It is,” He answered back, turning his head to look at me. I looked at him in return, suppressing the gasp in my throat when I realized just how close he was. His honey eyes roamed my face for a moment before he spoke again, “What do you think?” 

      Confused, I looked back at the papers briefly. “Are you asking me to make a business plan for the bank...?” I questioned, looking back at my boss. He shrugged nonchalantly, “No, do you think we need one?” Answering my question with more questions. “N-No, the bank’s doing well.” I said, “We’re not drastically losing money or anything, not losing money at all actually...” I mumbled to myself, but loud enough that the man beside me heard. 

      Seokjin let out a nonchalant hum, sitting back up in his pitch perfect posture. “If you say so. I trust your opinion.” He said, gathering the papers from my desk and making his way to the door. “Wait! Mr. Kim!” Hyejin spoke up. Seokjin stopped, turning his attention on Hyejin, who had a knowing smile on her face. “Ms. L/n actually has a request for you,” She said in a sweet voice, gesturing her hand towards me. 

      Seokjin’s attention spun towards me and I stopped like a deer in headlights.  “Yes, Ms. L/n?” He asked, raising one of his eyebrows. That shouldn’t be attractive... But it was. “I- uh... I’m...” I stuttered, not being able to tear my eyes away from the alluring man in front of me. “Ms. L/n wants to know if she can have a couple days off,” Hyejin spoke for me.

      “I do?” “She does?” Seokjin and I asked at the same time. “Yep!” Hyejin said, giving me a “If you say otherwise I’ll put itching powder in your skirts” look. So for the sake of my comfort, I shut up and went along with it. A couple days couldn’t hurt, right? If there's a financial emergency, then I’ll get a call or something. 

      Seokjin cleared his throat and turned back to me with a worried look on his face. “Are you okay Ms. L/n? You’re not sick or anything?” He asked. “N-No just... I just need a break, ya know?” I nervously chuckled, fiddling with the end of my blouse to keep my racing thought to a minimum. “Ah, okay. You’re welcome to have a few days off, you deserve time off,” Seokjin smiled. 

      After we exchanged our goodbyes and Seokjin left, I whipped around towards Hyejin and glared at her harder than a teenage boy glaring at his mom after she took away his vape. “What was that?” I hissed, crossing both of my arms. Hyejin, unphased by my threatening demeanor, chuckled and sighed. “That, my friend, was you getting a well-deserved break”

      I never realized how bland my apartment was until now. I mean, yes, it looks kinda lived in and yes, there are kink-knacks lounging about. It just looks, barely used. Which wouldn’t be an understatement considering falling asleep on my desk at work is a common occurance. 

     Maybe it’s because I haven’t spent a lot of time here. I’m always cooped up in my office, whether it be my home one or the one at work. My home office looks like I’ve used it well, if all the coffee stains are anything to go off of. But the rest of my apartment looks like a set from a sitcom, purposefully messy, not “I’ve been here for 10 years” messy. 

      It was slightly unsettling how much I got used to something I dreaded. How I threw myself into a routine- an unhealthy one at that- and got used to it. I always told myself that no matter what, I’d still paint. I’d still go to art galleries and watch those calming art restoration videos on YouTube, living vicariously through the screen. 

But I didn’t.

      I suppressed the hurt I felt for not being able to follow my dream by forcing myself to like what cards my parents dealt to me, what cards I played. That fact scared me. It scared me cause even if this was my apartment, even if I had trinkets that reminded me of my favorite shows and books, even if I was away from the pressures of my overbearing parents. I wasn’t living in a home. This was my apartment, but it wasn’t my apartment.

      Not a single thing around reminded me of my passion. Not a painting, not a paint tube, not a paintbrush. Not even an art catalog. I love art catalogs. Maybe I really needed this break, maybe I needed it to show myself that I wasn’t thrilled with the life I had now. 

However, there was nothing I could do, could I?

       It was too late. The diplomas on my wall told me that. It was too late to turn back. I’m 27. I already laid my life out for myself. I would be a financial advisor until I retired or died. That fact didn’t leave a pleasant feeling in my heart. But what could I really do about it?

      The sound of the doorbell ringing jostled me awake from my nap. I gave myself a second to get my bearings. I was in my living room, on the couch. Grey blanket draped over my form while the T.V played some trash show. Groaning, I got up from my makeshift bed, stretching out my stiff muscles as I made my way to the front door. 

       Opening the door, I saw Jimin, the town's delivery boy, standing on my doorstep with flowers in his hands. “Hello Jimin,” I said, giving the boy a smile. “Hey Y/n! Long time no see,” He chuckled, “I have a delivery for you,” He said, extending the vase of flowers in his hands towards me. “Oh, thank you Jimin, but I didn’t order any flowers,” I said. 

     “Not you, someone ordered flowers for you!” He said, turning the vase around to show me a little card that was hanging off of it. “You have a secret admirer,” He chuckled. Confused, I took the vase from him, smelling the saccharine aroma of the peonies and daisies that laid perfectly together. “Oh, wow, thank you again Jimin. Have a good day!” I said, Jimin gave me his award-winning smile as he bid me farewell. 

      I stepped back inside my apartment, shutting the door behind me. I walked to my kitchen and placed the heavy vase down on the counter, grabbing the attached card. “Min’s Flowers” was printed on the front in a style resembling calligraphy. Opening the card, I saw a neat handwritten note. 

‘Dear Y/n, I hope you are feeling better after getting some rest. You should know that you can always ask for a break when you need one, you’re an amazing advisor, but I know that staring at paper work can get a bit boring. I hope you like the flowers, I remember you mentioning that your favorite art piece had beautifully painted peonies. Get some rest, okay? 

P.S. Why was the office of cantaloupes so glum? Because they were melon-colleagues!”

      “Melon-colleagues... Oh!” I chuckled to myself, only understanding the play on words once I said it aloud. “This was sweet of you, Mr. Kim,” I said to myself, smelling the peonies once again. It was stupid how easily the man made me swoon, a simple smile here, a compliment there. Anything he did made my heart skip a beat, and this was no different. 

      I carried the vase to my bedroom, placing it on my bedside table next to my alarm clock. Deciding that I should thank him, I grabbed my phone and opened it to my messenger. Was it unprofessional to text your boss? I mean, I am thanking him for a gift so I suppose it’s fine. I texted out a simple ‘thank you’ message and sending it. 

‘I got the flowers Mr. Kim, thank you. They’re beautiful :)’

But what I didn’t expect was an immediate answer back. 

‘You’re welcome and please call me Jin :)’

‘Alright, Jin’

      “I’m telling you Y/n, I think Mr. Kim has a thing for you!” Hyejin squealed over the phone to me. “No, he doesn’t, he’s just a nice man,” I said, placing the new vase of flowers that were just delivered to me on my coffee table. “He sends you flowers every day! That’s not nothing!” She argued. I rolled my eyes, picking up the new card and flipping it open to read. 

‘Dear Y/n, I got you mini sunflowers this time, they remind me of you. Also, why was the broom late for work? It overswept!’

      I chuckled, turning my attention back to Hyejin. “I’m sure he’ll stop soon,” I counter argued. “Besides, what would Mr. God’s bragging right want from me?” “God, you are so dense it hurts. Did you know he asks about you? Checks your office to see if you came in today? Every single day.” Hyejin revealed. I stopped fiddling with the flowers for just a moment. “He does?” 

      I heard Hyejin groan and sigh, “Yes! Mr. Kim totally has a thing for you!” She stressed, “Jin’s just-” “See! He even lets you call him by a nickname!” Hyejin cut me off. “Hyejin, you’ve been watching too many Hallmark movies,” I giggled, “Friends are nice to each other. No matter how badly I want Mr. Hottie to smack me in the face with his lips, it’s just unrealistic.” 

      “Okay, how about I prove to you he’s crushing on you? Get you undeniable evidence?” She bargained, and I could only imagine the mischievous face she was most likely sporting. “What are you going to do? Follow him around with a camera?” I chuckled sarcastically. “No! But what if you tell him about something you like? But really discreetly. You mentioned he remembered your favorite painting, say something in passing that nobody would care about unless they wanna impress you!” Hyejin answered. 

      “That’s a horrible idea.” I deadpanned, “But if it’ll get you to leave me alone about this, I’ll do it.” I heard Hyejin cheer, sounding way too excited about what will end up being nothing. “You’ll see!” Hyejin teased. I was about to refute her statement when my phone chimed. I took it away from my ear to see a message from Jin. “Speak of the devil, he just texted me,” I said aloud. “Well, don’t leave him hanging, go on! I’ll talk to you later!” Hyejin said as she hung up. 

Shaking my head at her antics, I opened my messages. 

‘Hey! How are you feeling?’ The text said,

‘I’m feeling better, thank you. How are you doing?’ I asked.

      That was the start of a very long conversation. One where we talked about mostly anything. Jin mentioned that he was bored in his office doing nothing and decided to check up on me, to which I joked about telling the boss about his slacking. 

      The conversation flowed without hesitation. There was no long pause between messages, no awkward one-worded responses. Just the two of us talking freely. I completed Hyejin’s challenge when Jin was telling me about all the pretty colored flowers that Yoongi had in his shop. I agreed with him, saying that it would be nice to paint it, preserving the colors in art form. 

But what I hadn’t expected was for Jin to drop a bomb on me. 

       We were talking about Jin’s printer that seems haunted because it beeps at the weirdest times. He was making a joke about talking to it and having it as a friend, and to bring that joke to a close he took a selfie with the printer. Admittedly, he looked very handsome posing next to a hunk of metal, but it wasn’t his face that caught me off guard, it was his collarbone. 

     Normally, looking at someone's collarbone on purpose just seems... Pervy... But when there’s an irritated bruise on it, it draws one's attention. Right there, peaking out from under his slightly unbuttoned white button up, was a bruise on his collarbone. Now, I’m not naïve. Why else would you have a bruise there unless someone left it on you in a steamy way? 

      Maybe I was denying the possibility of Jin having a crush on me to Hyejin, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t hoping for her words to be true. Deep down I wanted her to be right. I wanted my feelings for the stunning man I was texting and talking to for the past couple days to be reciprocated. How dumb was I?

      Of course he had a lover. Just look at him. Not only is he handsome, but he’s kind, funny, hard-working. We were in our late 20s, this was the time where most of the people our age were settling down, having kids, getting ready for the future. There’s probably going to be a ring on his perfectly imperfect finger soon.

That fact shouldn’t hurt as bad as it does...

‘Dear Y/n, You mentioned you’d like to paint the flowers in Yoongi’s shop, so I got really colorful flowers for you. Maybe now you can paint them? I’d love to see if you did. I’m sure your just as good as an artist as you are an advisor. Hyejin mentioned you plan on coming back to work tomorrow, I’m happy you’re feeling better. :)

P.S What’s red and smells like blue paint? Red paint!’

      I felt as if my body was betraying my thoughts as a slight smile graced my lips at Jin's terrible dad joke. My heart still beating for him even if my brain was against it, flashing the image of a passionately bruised Jin into my mind every time my heart rate picks up at his words. 

      What betrayed me more was my body moving on autopilot towards my storage closet, wrestling my way to the back, pulling out tubes of old paint, sets of old paintbrushes, and an old easel. What betrayed me more was my body going to an empty corner in my room, setting up a workspace for my suppressed passion to flow, setting the colorful flora delicately on a spare table. What betrayed me more was the way I didn’t hesitate to squeeze colors out of their tubes, meticulously pick paintbrushes, lift my hand up to start the first stroke. Then the second, then the third.

      Soon I got lost in the motion of forgetting everything. Enclosing myself in my own world, nothing but me and the canvas. Focusing on the details of flowers that nobody cared to look at. Stem, sepal, stigma. All pieces of a puzzle that made up a delicate lily. Those lilies making up the picture of the vase, that bouquet having much more meaning than anybody could interpret. 

      A bouquet that represented longing, hurt, disappointment. All conveyed with every stroke of the brush, every color mixed, every dot placed. Anyone looking in on my life from a fogged window wouldn’t understand why tears fell from my eyes as I continued painting. People would tilt their heads in confusion at the way I stared, longingly, at the seemingly simple flowers. People would whisper words of confusion as I unconsciously desaturated my colors to match the feeling that plagued me. 

A once bright image turned into a foggy photo of melancholy. 

      I painted those flowers and cried, dreaming about the man I couldn’t have, the man I longed to hold, to kiss, to cherish. Maybe it was stupid. Maybe I was overreacting. A simple bruise. A simple reddish bruise is all it took to break my spirit? Silly when you think about it hard enough, but feelings and rationality are a funny concoction. Never quiet going together in how they should, many opting to unconsciously separate the two. Many like me. 

      I should’ve suppressed the wayward feelings when I recognized them years ago. Lock them in a box and throw them away, never to be seen again. Have my heart swallow the key, then forget about its existence. But I didn’t. The nights spent thinking about him; the days spent watching him from afar; they passed like a flash of lighting. My feelings growing quicker than I expected, right under my nose. 

      When I finished, I didn’t move. I just looked at the painting that was a product of my suppressed sorrow. Realizing that not only did Jin steal my heart, he reawakened my passion for painting as well. 

      “Hey, are you okay? You don’t look so well,” Hyejin asked, taking a sip from her mug that aptly said “Cupid’s Sleuth” that I got her for her birthday one year after she set up two of our mutual friends together. “I guess,” I mumbled, focusing my attention on my own cup of liquid energy. 

      Hyejin put her hand on my shoulder to gain back my attention, but after a restless night my reaction speed wasn’t the best, so I didn’t notice it. “Y/n,” She called, and I looked up from my mug. “You’re even worse than you were before you took a mini-vacation, what happened?” 

      I sighed, placing my mug down on the gray counter of the employee break room. “You were right. He remembered.” I said in a gravelly voice. “That’s great! Right?” She cautioned. I said nothing, opting to fish my phone out of my pocket and opening my messages with Seokjin, turning the phone to her to show her the picture. 

     “I don’t- Oh...” She coughed. “That um...” She stammered. “Yep, looks like a hickey.” I said, putting my phone back in my pocket. “But that doesn’t make sense, he’s obviously likes you!” She argued, “Well, obviously he doesn’t!” I snapped, startling Hyejin. “Sorry, but the proof is right there, Hyejin, he already has a lover,” I sighed. 

      Hyejin didn’t say anything. Her face showed she was thinking about something, and she was thinking hard. “There has to be an explanation,” She mumbled. “There’s something we don’t know. If he had a lover, why has he never talked about them? Mentioned them in passing? Or even have a picture of them on his desk?” She pointed out. “Maybe they’re a private couple,” I reasoned. 

     Hyejin shook her head, mumbling out, “No... that’s not it,” Her eyebrows creased as we stood there in silence. “He’d at least have a picture... Why don’t you just talk to him?” She suggested. I choked on the coffee I was sipping, hacking up the liquid that made it down the wrong pipe. “Talk to him? And what? Admit that I’ve fallen in love with him so he can laugh about me to his significant other when he gets home? Not happening.” I said. 

      Hyejin rolled her eyes, “Come on, talking is the only way to sort this out. You’re an adult Y/n!” She gestured to my matured, adult body as if I didn’t already know this fact. “Sometimes, things are best left to the unknown, for the sake of my heart.” I finished the rest of my coffee and left the cup in the sink. “I appreciate your effort, but this time you can’t be cupid's sleuth.” I lamented, leaving the break room to go back to my office.

      I avoided Jin like the plague for the next few weeks. Running away from him in the halls before he saw me, leaving for lunch before him, not leaving my office unless absolutely necessary. Others were starting to notice my sudden aversion for my boss, but I didn’t care. I couldn’t look at him. 

      Every glance at his face, rumble of his voice, whiff of his earthy cologne whenever I rushed by him in the halls, it was torture. I hated the way my heart skipped a beat at everything he did. How my breath picked up and palms turned sweaty. I hated the way he still held my heart captive in his hands, even if he didn’t know it.

      So, if it hurt to be around him, I’ll avoid him. No matter how long it takes for my feelings to dissipate, I’m willing to dance this dance around him. They have to go away eventually, right? I wouldn’t be a hopeless romantic forever...

      I drowned my thoughts in paint. Left my sorrows in swirling blues and purples. Expressed my frustrations in striking reds and yellows. Wrote my whimsical wishes in hues of greens and pinks. I got lost in the empty canvas set up in front of me, giving color to the void of white. 

      I never knew how to start or where to finish, but I just let myself flow. Orange here, maroon there, wherever it felt right is where it went. Soon pictures of flowers and sunsets would emerge from the cacophony of colors that I splattered on the canvas. The worlds that I painted ones of idealization. Worlds where there was no hurt, no pain, no disappointment. 

      That’s where I was now, currently getting lost in saturations of green. Sitting in front of a canvas, I painted a world of my own. This one was turning into an open field at dawn. Maybe if I give it to a psychiatrist, they’ll understand the unconscious emotions I laid bare in the paint. Point out why such a picture gave off feelings of longing, melancholy. But for now this was my solitude, my abditory. 

      A knock on my front door threw me out of that daydream, however. Confused, I turned to look outside at the weeping sky. It was pouring. Who in their right mind was at my door? I quickly got up and hurried over to my door, not caring that I was in my paint stained apron or that I had paint on my face. But maybe I should’ve when I opened the door and was greeted by a soaking wet Seokjin. 

      Gasping, I took in his sopping form. He was dripping from head to toe, still dressed in his work attire. “Jin? What are you doing out in the rain? Come on, come in,” I said, ushering him inside. I wasn’t thinking about anything other than his comfort and the fact he was most likely freezing. 

      I quickly hurried to my hallway linen closet, grabbing one of my fluffy towels and rushing back to give it to Jin. “Let’s get you warm,” I led him to the couch, sitting him down. After Jin dried off a bit, I prepared some tea and handed him a cup. “Thank you,” He said, giving me that same adorable smile. “What were you doing out in the rain?” I asked, keeping my mind off of his charm. 

      “I wanted to come see you...” He admitted, nervously looking down at his cup. “M-Me? You see me at work, Jin,” I pointed out, taking a sip of tea from my own cup. “No... I don’t, you’ve been avoiding me Y/n,” He whinged, emphasizing the “avoiding” part. “I haven’t been avoiding you...” I fibbed, looking anywhere but at him. 

      “Yes, you have! It’s like I’ve got the plague-Which I don’t- Did I do something wrong?” He fretted, a look of hurt on his handsome face. I didn’t know what to say, I wanted to say no, tell him it was all me and my stupid feelings for him, but admitting that to him was terrifying. After I didn’t answer for a minute, Jin sighed, running a hand through his damp hair. 

      “I don’t- I really don’t understand...” He whimpered, sounding like a kicked puppy. It tug at my heart string more. “I’m sorry...” I mumbled, guilt bubbling up in my throat and stinging at my eyes.  

“I don’t want a sorry! I want an explanation! What did I do?” Jin glowered.

“It wasn’t you! Alright? It was never you... It was me! I can’t be around you!” I yelled.

“Why not?”

     “Because I love you, asshole! And it hurts to know that you already have someone who loves you the way I wish I could.” I wept, tears of frustration spilling out of my eyes. I furiously wiped away the stray evidence of my inner turmoil, turning away from the man in front of me. “Alright...? Is that what you wanted to hear...?” I sniffled. 

      Jin stayed silent. Not making a sound. The only noise that could be heard was the beating of rain against the windows and the occasional distant rumble of thunder. “I’ll call you a cab...” I choked out, stepping towards my bedroom where I left my phone laying on my bed. 

      As I went to go grab it, Jin stopped me, grabbing my wrist, pulling me back. I whipped around, bumping into Jin’s wet chest, his large hand still wrapped around my dainty wrist. “Jin, what are you-” “Where’d you get that idea?” Jin asked, cutting me off. 

      “What?” I whispered. “Where’d you get the idea that I have a lover?” He asked, staring directly into my eyes. His face was so close to mine that I could faintly feel the breaths he took. I could see the little imperfections on his face, a freckle here, a scar there. He never failed to take my breath away. 

      I peeled my eyes away from his amber ones, focusing on the- now faint- bruise that rested on his collarbone that was semi visible through his damp shirt. I reached up and lightly touched it, my hand shaking a bit. “I’m not seven, I know what a bruise on the collarbone means,” I whispered. 

“Y/n, that’s not a hickey,”

“Then what is it, Jin?” 

      “It’s the result of Jeongguk’s carelessness. He was swinging around his baton, hit me square in the collarbone. Hurt like a bitch,” He grimaced. Jin guided my hand away from the bruise, lifting it to his lips and giving it a chaste kiss. “The only bruise on my collarbone that I want is one that you give me,” He whispered, bringing my hand to cup his cheek. 

      I rose my other hand to rest on chest. I could hear my heart in my ears, beating in a rhythm rivaling the gallop of a horse. “Jin... What are you saying?” I asked. “When you started avoiding me, ignoring my texts and dancing around me at work. It hurt. I realized that without you, I felt like I was missing something important. I tried to ignore it. I tried to tell myself that even if it wasn’t what I wanted, I’d get used to it. But earlier today, when all I could see at every street corner was a happy couple... I knew I couldn’t ignore it anymore.” 

      Jin wrapped an arm around my waist, bringing one of his soft, slightly calloused hand to gently cup my cheek. Even if he was cold, the touch was so undeniably warm. “I really like you Y/n. More than I probably should.” He admitted, “So please, let me kiss you.” 

      Jin lent down, capturing my lips in his soft, plush ones as my knees threatened to buckle. His lips lingered in place, basking in the warmth mine offered. We moved together in an unspoken rhythm, a waltz we created in our own heads as our lips danced together. 

      Jin kissed me like the second he pulled away, the world we had created together behind our closed eyes would melt away, and he would be back shivering in the rain. “I love you too,” He whispered against my lips, kissing me with more fervor after every second. He held me tighter, his wide hands enveloping my waist in a comforting hold. 

      It felt so hot. Whether that was the heat from Jin or the flush from myself, I wouldn’t know. Our bodies melded in a way where you couldn’t tell who was who. Arms wrapped around one another, legs brushing together, lips clashing in a fight to get impossibly closer. 

      After we calmed down and our lungs started to burn, we pulled away. We still held each other close, not willing to part just yet. “I never want to part from you again,” I admitted, resting my head on Jin’s broad chest. “Me neither,” Jin whispered back to me, pressing a kiss on the top of my head. 

      We stood there in silence, holding each other in an embrace that said so much. So many unspoken words of “I’ve wanted this for so long” and “I never want to let go,” communicated through delicate touches and lingering kisses. 

       The man who stole my heart and refused to let it go. The man who reawakened my lost passion for art. The man who taught me that maybe talking is better than letting things wallow in an abyss of self pity, was mine. He was in my arms, kissing my lips, hugging my body. 

And I couldn’t be happier.

      “Let me see,” Jin said, looking over my should at the painting I’ve been working on for the past 2 hours. “Wow, you never cease to amaze me,” He said, giving me a kiss on the cheek. I was painting the recent bouquet of flowers Jin got me this morning, this one filled with different color peonies. “You’re so sweet,” I chuckled, giving him a kiss back. 

      Jin gave me a smile, his eyes full of admiration and love. “I love you, flower,” He whispered to me. “I love you too,” I whispered back, stealing a chaste kiss from his lips. “Are you going into work tomorrow?” Jin asked. “No, none of my clients need me so I’ll just stay home and paint,” I shrugged, turning my attention back to the canvas.

      Jin watched me paint for a little longer, stealing kisses here and there. It was relaxing to have him so close. “From workaholic to laid back painter,” Jin chuckled, his squeaky laugh pulling a giggle from my throat. “Well, I had someone to show me that it’s okay to have passions,” I said, giving Jin a loving look. “I’m glad,” He whispered, pressing a kiss to my waiting lips. 

[icarusthefoolish]

Bakugou x Bullied sibling Reader.

(A/N: This Oneshot has Bullying and Cussing in it! If you are uncomfortable with any of these themes please don't read this or read it with caution!)

She was walking along the halls, head throbbing, breathing raged and a whimper in the back of her throat. The tears wouldn't stop running and her legs were burning, this wasn't the first time this happened though, it happened almost every day, the only way she could keep all of this from her family and most importantly her brother Katsuki was with makeup.

She knew that if Bakugou knew about this he would make the student's lives literal hell and that would make everything worse than it already was. She was hopping to get to the nurses office before the bell rung but that hope was crushed when the first student's came out of the classrooms.

She pressed into the corner in hope that they would just not notice her but alas she was dragged by her blond hair and screamed for them to stop. They grabbed fist fulls of her hair and pushed there fists into her face. By now her face was battered and bruised so they turned there attention to her body, the girls grabbed her uniform and ripped it the buttons popping of and leaving her in her undershirt, she was crying for help but no one cared enough to help a girl in need. She never got an answer as to why they choose her but she remembered it as well as it had happened yesterday.

Flashback

She was excited it was her first day of school so she made her way to her class. Once she stood in front of the room she knocked and waited till a teacher opened and ushered her inside. "This is

Y/N Bakugou please be nice" the teacher said this text without much emotion "go ahead and sit next to Keiko, the girl with the red hair" she nodded and went over to sit down next to Keiko the girl looking at her hair and eyes.

"Your a Bakugou so Katsuki is your Brother isn't that right?" She asked with sass just dripping from her voice. She nodded and Keiko turned away. Once the bell rung she stepped outside of the classroom and was shoved to the ground she looked up at the teens that shoved her down "w-what is it?" She asked and got a punch to the face she screamed and tried to scramble away but to no use.

End of Flashback

She hissed as she looked at her face, both of here eyes were now black and below her nostril was a dried stain of blood she looked like hell and had no makeup with her because those stupid girls took it. While she was washing of she started to think, It was the end of the day anyways so she just had to hurry home before her brother saw her, so she took her bag and hurried out of the building only to see a blond head of spiky hair //shit Katsuki is here...// she turned around and went back into the bathroom washing of the last bit of dried blood and looking for anything to conceal her eyes, she was lucky she had packed a second foundation so she quickly covered up here eyes with aching arms full of bruises and scratches.

After she was finally happy with how she looked she went outside again to see her brother with an annoyed face "there you are Brat what took you so long c'mon the old hag wants us home because were going out tonight." He grabbed her arm and she winced with a yelp, Katsuki stopped and looked back at her "what's going on?" He was suspicious so she replied with a fake smile "n-nothing nii-san!!!" Before she could stop him he rolled up here sleeve and saw all of the bruises "who the fuck did this!!" He was angry "n-n-no one i- I fell and u-u-uhm...." her brother glared at her "WHO DID THIS TO YOU DIPSHIT!!!! Don't fuck with me when im angry!!!!"

She sight and told him.... everything from the beginning to now and she could tell her brother was about to explode. "Im Gonna KILL THESE FUCKS!!!!!!!" He was gritting his teeth and she was starting to get scared, she never liked if her Brother was angry so she shrunk away from him terrified, tears were beginning to well up in her eyes again and she let out a sob causing the angry blond male to look into her direction.

As soon as he saw your terrified face he stopped "shit.... Y-Y/N im sorry I di-" he wanted to touch her but she shoved him away "STAY AWAY!!!!" She were scared beyond belief and fell onto her knees, it all broke down it got to much and she couldn't stop anymore so Bakugou quickly called someone before he tried to comfort you again she was pushing him away.

She wad scared and sad and just Depressed so she didn't notice the red haired male coming and picking her up, due to her crying all of the makeup she had applied had started to rub of so now her black eyes were visible.

Kirishima held her the entire way back while Bakugou was fuming "Bro calm down" by now she had luckily fallen asleep so Bakugou didn't have to worry about scaring you, the only thing he wanted to do now was punch the shit out of these brats. Once they were home Bakugou made his way to your mother while Kirishima made his way to your room. Once the redhead put you down on your bed he made his way out of your room when a quiet call made him turn.

"Yea dudett?" He turned around fully "c-could you maybe I don't know.... stay? Katsuki will take a while and I don't want to be alone...." She Red head nodded and walked over to you and lay down next to you. In the mean time Bakugou had talked to your mother and she was shocked that she never noticed anything, for as loud as she was she was very much worried so she had made it her mission to talk to the schools Headmaster/Headmistress and if that didn't help she would take you out of that school, Bakugou had made his way back to your room to check on you only to see Kirishima and you cuddled together sleeping.

He held himself back even though he wanted to yell at Kirishima for doing this. He closed the door and walked to his room before falling on his bed and groaning in annoyance.

[iisuya-simps]

Coffee shop au (Doppo x Reader)

A/N: decided to do a little scenario for the birthday boy Doppo! Hope yall enjoy :)

Word count: 1798

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You were a literature student at university. Every morning you see this man come into the coffee shop around 8 o clock. 'Poor thing, always looks so tired and rundown.'

One morning was particularly busy. You overheard his order from one of his many visits and decided to pay for it. He comes in an hour later frantically looking around, wondering if he should leave the line. One of the employees waves him down and gives him his order. That lady over there paid for your coffee. He looks completely baffled and turns to see you waving. He thanks the barista and walks to your table.

"Hi um, thanks for paying for my coffee miss." He scratches the back of his head nervously. "No problem. My name is Y/N by the way." You extend your hand to shake his. "Oh! I'm Doppo." "It was busy today and I figured you always look so busy." His eyes widened. "You can tell from just that huh?" You nod. "Well, it's true I don't have much time to myself outside of work..."

"What do you do? Oh, I'm a salaryman." "Ah, I see. Must be pretty tiresome work." "It would be alright if my boss didn't give me so much to do." His fists clenched. "Oh, I'm sorry for rambling." "It's alright." "I actually have to get going. I can already feel my work piling up." He shoots you a bemused grin.

"It was nice talking to you." "Would you have time to chat over coffee on the weekend? Seems like you have a lot more to say." "Maybe! Uh, I'll be back tomorrow." "Alright, see you." He waves and scurries out of the cafe. "What an odd guy. I hope he's not overdoing himself too hard..." You continue your writing.

The next day Doppo joins you for coffee. "So Mr. salaryman, how goes life?" You sit down at the same table you were at yesterday. "Oh uh, I'm kind of always on the go." "Do you have any hobbies?" "Well, I do have a few houseplants. I keep a bunch of cute little succulents around my place like a salad bowl, giant velvet rose, it's actually just a small one, and a tiny cactus-" He stops there because he feels the conversation dragging.

"What about friends?" "Hifumi has been my friend since elementary school. Despite everything, I'm glad he's still around." "That's nice to hear." You smile. "Oh! I've been so busy talking about myself I never asked about you." " Well, there's not much to know." "Nonsense, what do you do? I saw you with your laptop yesterday." "I'm a literature student at ___ University." "So you're a writer? That's pretty interesting."

Over the next few months, you became fast friends. Doppo would join you in the morning for coffee and a small chat then dash to work.

(Insert clever transition here)

"Doppooo." You call out to him and wave your hand in front of his face. "Doppo?" He snaps back into reality. "Hmm? What is it y/n?" "Are you alright?" "I'm f-fine. Why do you ask?" You shake your head. "It's ok to have a break every now and then y'know. You've been spacing out all day." "Yeah, sorry y/n. I guess I just have a lot on my mind." "Why don't we do something?"

"Would you like to go out? Hang out I mean! Somewhere else! Anywhere! You can choose!" "Hmm, I think a walk would do us both some good." "Uh yeah s-sure." Doppo sweats a little.

"Hey uh y/n, I'm not a very athletic person as you can probably tell..." "That's alright, It doesn't have to be a long one. Why don't we just walk down to the park at our own pace?" "Oh, o-ok sure."

Leaving the cafe you walk about 15 minutes to the nearest park and sit down on a nearby bench. You turn to face him. "I'm worried about you Doppo. Are you taking care of yourself?" "I'm just hanging on like I always do..." He gives a nervous chuckle. "You didn't answer my question." He hangs his head and sighs. "What's the point?" "The point is your wellbeing Doppo. Here." You pat your lap. "Just take a little rest. "N-no I shouldn't-" "I don't mind." Hesitantly he lays down on the bench and rests his head on your lap, blushing.

It didn't take long for him to immediately fall asleep on your lap. You laugh to yourself. 'He looks so peaceful like this, just like a cute little man child.' You carefully stroke his hair making sure not to wake him up. A small blush forming on your cheeks.

After a while, he awakes and rolls over. His sleepy teal-blue eyes meeting yours.

"Y-y/n!" He sits up abruptly, a bright red blush flooding his cheeks. "I-I'm so sorry! How long was I asleep?" "Not long, you could have napped longer if you wanted to. It looks like you needed the sleep." "Erm, yeah. thank you." His cheeks still burning red. "You can lay back down if you want. You still have a few hours before you have to go to work right?" He considers, thinking how comfortable your thighs were cradling his head. "I-I don't want to be a bother..." "Just lay on my shoulder then. We can both take a nap." "Okay."

Doppo leans on your shoulder and closes his eyes hoping that you didn't notice his quickening heartbeat. Resting your head on his crimson locks you close your eyes and fall asleep into a short slumber together.

t-t-t-transition---------

"What would you like to eat?" "Anything, I'm starving." You giggle. "I was going to make some omurice~" He visibly perks up. "I'd like that very much." "Omurice it is! Topped with some cilantro." You lick your lips. "U-um. No cilantro for me thank you..." he winced trying not to gag.

"Oh no, you have the cilantro hating gene, don't you?" "Yeah, it kinda tastes like soap." You dramatically toss your hand to your forehead. "That's so tragic. I wish your taste buds could appreciate the fresh springy sprigs that are cilantro. But alas! I'll just top it off with chives."

"Y-you can have cilantro! It's not a problem if you want to!" "I don't want to make you sick with the aroma." "I'll be fine as long as I don't eat it! Really!!" "Ok ok. I'll do both." "Do you want some help? Omurice is one of the only things I can make..." his head hangs a little. "Sure! I could always use some help chopping some veggies."

You were coming over to Doppos place every weekend now to make sure he was eating well and getting enough sleep.

After prepping the vegetables and cooking the rice, you dice up some chicken and mix in the vegetables and spices, also adding some ketchup. Then whisking an egg with a little milk you cook the omelette and add the chicken, veggies and rice. Folding the egg over you make a little ketchup smiley face with dimples on the side of his plate and top it off with some chives. Then do the same with yours.

"Here you go!" Doppo's eyes light up when you hand him the plate. "Waaaah, it looks so professional! Let's dig in!" You watch as he smiles while eating, savouring every bite. "Oh y/n this is so good." "Thank yourself, you helped make it too." You smile. "Yes but mine never tastes this good. It must be something you did!" "You'd be surprised what difference a little salt and pepper can make."

You both watched a show while eating, Doppo went back for seconds.

"Thank you for the delicious meal y/n. You've been doing a lot for me, I appreciate it." "Of course! I'll always try and be there for you when you need me." "Would you really?" Doppo's palms get sweaty as he turns to you with his head down. "Would it be so wrong to think that there's something between us? I-I know I'm a pessimist and an overall mess. You basically take care of me like I'm your kid- Oh, who am I kidding you don't want me... I'm a ball of anxiety and-" you put a finger to his lips and he blushes immediately.

"I like you too, Doppo." You smile. "Y-you do?" He sighs visibly relaxing. "I thought I really blew it there... but I'm glad you feel the same." You place your hand over his. "I care about you Doppo."

After a few more shows and an awkward silent stroll, Doppo walks you back over to your place and says goodnight.

"Thanks for everything y/n." Knowing he wouldn't be the one to make the first move (in this case anyway) you lean over and kiss him on the cheek. He looked so cute with his flustered expression and blushed cheeks. "Night Doppo."

When you lay down on your bed for the night your heart races and butterflies dance in your stomach. Then your phone pings from your nightstand.

"I had a really great time today! Not like I don't any other time! But today was special! The texts came flooding in one after the other. You beam and reply "Yes today was fun. Now please get some sleep. You need it." "I'll try!"

Epilogue I guess---------

Even though you move in with Doppo quite quickly it turns out to be the best thing for the both of you. He does his best to look out for you and you look out for him.

In the morning you both wake up, he boils water for coffee and you make breakfast. You'll still visit the coffee shop every now and then, but there's nothing quite like having breakfast in bed with your partner.

You always call him during lunch and inbetween to make sure he doesn't forget to eat. When he comes home he'll help you with meal prep if he's not too exhausted. Then you'll eat dinner in front of the tv and watch a show.

After dinner, you both wash and dry the dishes then sit down on the couch and cuddle. On a good day, you watch a few episodes of your favorite show together. But on an exhausting day, Doppo falls asleep within the first 10 minutes. But you don't mind. You simply flip the station and admire his sweet peaceful face as he lays his head on your shoulder.

If it's late you wake him up with head pats and guide him to bed in a half-asleep stupor joining him soon. When you're in bed he always has one arm around you. Usually, your back to his front or the both of you facing each other in an embrace until you wake and the cycle begins anew.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thank you for reading!

[alfredosauce50]

Mille feuille [Policeman! England x reader]

Synopsis: He knew what he signed up for when he put on the blue uniform. But nothing could’ve prepared him for this.

He did everything by the book. And yet, for the first time in his career, he’s responsible for a failed hostage situation. While he faces the aftermath of devastating guilt knowing he couldn’t save an innocent life, he spirals down a path of self-destruction. You’ve just returned from France after studying patisserie, and you immediately notice. He turned back to smoking. Drank more. Talked less. Unable to watch him lose himself, you encouraged him to take on new hobbies as a distraction. He has no idea where to begin until he eats a dessert you left for him in the fridge. He never mixed well with kitchens, but maybe, just maybe, he could surprise himself, and you.

Wordcount: 4,998 Warning: Light gore in the beginning. Proceed with caution.

It was meant to be a peaceful night.

The vibrant pulsing of red and blue forced him to squint. But there was nothing he could do to muffle the ear-splitting wail of sirens. Everyone in the neighborhood had been asleep, now slowly arising to the disturbances in the streets. God, he wished he was still in bed too. His job couldn’t guarantee such a luxury, so he was sent out in his car along with several other officers. And it wasn’t a task he could simply put off for tomorrow.

For the past hour, he had been shouting through a loudspeaker. Reasoning. Instructing. He tried everything. Then, pleading. Assuring. Nothing he said was unaccounted for. But in their frazzled state of mind, they never budged, keeping the barrel of a gun aimed at the poor girl’s head.

He could pull the trigger at any moment and send her into oblivion. Her life was dangled over the edge, and whether she’d keep it depended solely on his ability to convince him to lower the gun. “We’re here to help you, Adam. If you put it away, we won’t hold this against you. It’s a promise.” The said man shook his head, keeping the firearm pressed against her temple with a shaky hand.

“No... No! You’re just... You’re just saying that. I’m gonna end up in jail like the rest, aren’t I?”

The Brit swallowed thickly. “No, you won’t. We’re going to get you the help you need first. Alright?” He spotted the man do just that, albeit slowly. But perhaps, he was celebrating too early. Before he lowered his arm completely, he gestured to all the cars with his brows knitted together. “Tell them to go away first. I don’t wanna see a single one of you’s. How do I know you’re not lying?”

Arthur cursed under his breath and reached for his communicator.

“Get them out of here. All of them.”

It was a risk he was willing to take if it meant he could save them both. He could feel it in his gut. The SWAT team was getting into position in the surrounding buildings, ready to let the bullets fly. It was only a matter of time before they could get a clear shot. But as he spoke with the troubled man, he couldn’t bring himself to resort to that as a solution. If he could talk to him for a little longer, do what he asked, surely, things would turn out how he wanted them to.

The cars pulled out of the driveway. “They’re all gone. Now all you have to do is drop the gun. Then you’ll be home free.”

Adam loosened his fingers around the firearm, but that was when Arthur’s communicator crackled again.

“We have a clear shot. Permission to engage.”

“No. Hold your fire. He’s nearly there.” He whisper-shouted that into the device, but his mouth was too close to the loudspeaker. While the hostage-taker could only make out a few words, fire was enough to spark fear and reduce him to a primitive state of mind. Darting his wide eyes over the nearby infrastructure, he felt his heart sink at the black windows watching his every move.

“Fuck.” The officer breathed, watching all his progress undo itself as the other’s face contorted with betrayal, then terror. Then, he kicked the door open the door behind him, and dragged the girl inside. “No!” Dropping the loudspeaker, he chased after him. As he dashed through the dim halls behind the shopping district, he was forced to listen to her bloodcurdling screams. And it was the last sound she’d ever make before her life came to an abrupt end.

A gun went off. The explosion echoed to him and all color drained from his face. But he persisted, following him to the backdoor of the bakery where it all began. Beads of sweat had formed around his forehead, but he never cared to wipe them. Not when he was now met with the biggest mistake of his life. Not being able to save one. There on the bloodied tiles laid the girl he’d been trying to save, long dead and gone.

But the fear on her face was fresh.

Standing over her body was her killer, grinning at him tiredly.

“... I didn’t want you to find me, and she wouldn’t shut up.”

Arthur couldn’t even respond. Instead, he pulled inwards, staring wide-eyed at the corpse of a young girl. He’d failed to save her, and it was slowly dawning on him. So even when the man raised his gun again, the guilt quickly amassing in his tightening chest stopped him from lifting a finger. But he knew he wouldn’t die here. Instead, he’d be cursed to live a fate worse than death.

Watching the other point it at himself, he grit his teeth when a finger curled around the trigger.

Bang.

Blood splattered all over his face.

He’d never forget the taste of iron on his tongue. The stench of gunpowder. But it was the sight of them that would be ingrained in his mind forever.

A week had gone by. But it still felt like yesterday they died in front of him. He’d relive the moment, again and again, the memory haunting him like the vengeance felt by their tortured souls.

In every moment of silence, the screams of the girl would fill them. And every time he closed his eyes, he’d dream of the same minute where he’d run through those halls. Find her dead body on the ground. Then watch his twisted smile contort as he blew himself apart. All his mistakes that Godforsaken night cost both of their lives, and the regret grew so unfathomably potent, he began to question the worth of his own.

How could he have been so reckless? He’d clearly bit off more than he could chew, thinking he could save them both. He couldn’t. And he walked out in shame with blood on his face. But he felt it. The invisible blood on his hands.

He should’ve given the sniper the green light. That way, he could’ve saved at least one of them. The girl who stayed overtime at her shitty, minimum wage bakery job.

He failed to do anything right that day, and this was the devastating aftermath.

He wished he could just forget it all.

But no, he was alone with his thoughts. You weren’t here, so there was no way to channel his emotions, let alone get over it. Not as long as he could still think, anyway. So he opted to do the unforgivable. He’d pick up bad habits he dropped for you.

Every day, he’d visit the same bar, order the same drinks. Drink until he could barely see his own hands. Hangovers weren’t a problem, so what was stopping him? His department was considerate enough to put him on leave, so he had all the time in the world to do nothing in particular, nothing except this. Downing the last of his beer, he slammed the glass on the counter and groaned at the bartender. “Can I get a whiskey over here? I’m running low.”

The other shook his head and clicked his tongue. “No can do, man. You’re drunk enough already. I think it’s time for you to head home.”

“Wha-aaat? I’m not drunk.”

“Yes, you are.”

Arthur leaned forward with an accusing glare. “I’ll have you know... I’m a... I’m a cop, alright? If you don’t listen to me... I might just... Arrest you.”

The bartender furrowed his brows. “Uh, sure you can.” He scoffed, continuing to polish a glass in his hands. “It doesn’t matter what you are. If you’re drunk, you can’t have any more. It’s the law. And newsflash pal, it applies to you as well.”

“... You’re no fun.” He slurred out, sliding himself off his stool. Before he could fall flat on his face, he wound up stumbling forward a few steps. Then, he spun to him with next to no grace and pointed at him with an index. “But I’ll see you tomorrow. You better have that... Whiskey ready for me when I come.”

“Yeah, yeah. Just make sure you’re still alive to drink it.”

“No promises.”

Even he had no idea how he made it back home in one piece. But he did, collapsing right on his bed in the first couple of seconds upon getting inside. Kicking his shoes off and throwing off his clothes to a random spot in the room, he slid himself under the covers. He couldn’t tell if it was his inflamed skin making the sheets so cold, or if it was because you weren’t here. Speaking of which, his phone buzzed with a reminder in his calendar.

Holding it above his face, he scanned the contents. That was right. You were arriving at the airport tomorrow afternoon, and he was supposed to come and pick you up. He almost forgot.

Then, the first thought he had through his pounding headache was one of relief. Your plane wasn’t landing in the morning. After that came the excitement to see you after months of your absence. The house didn’t feel like a home without you, because home was wherever you were. He would’ve packed his bags and flown to France with you, but alas, he had a job, and this job ended up ruining him. But never mind that.

He needed you now more than ever.

It was a little after one did he arrive at the airport, but he didn’t leave his car before squeezing some eye drops in. Blinking that away, he fixed his hair in the overhead mirror. You’ve got this, Arthur. You look positively dashing. Was what he told himself, but he wished he’d believe it too. There were bags under his eyes, and there was tiredness dulling them that never seemed to go away even after sleeping in for a week.

Stepping out of the vehicle to walk to the entrance, he stuffed his hands in his pockets. He hadn’t walked this much in a while.

Upon getting inside, he fixed his hair again after the wind tousled it. However, there was still one untamed lock sticking out on his head, but he never had the time to deal with it when you came walking out of the international arrivals. As he watched you glance around expectantly, a smile immediately lit up his face and his heart swelled with warmth. It was so obvious how your mind worked--how you’d been thinking of him. It was completely normal after he agreed to come, but it filled him up with nostalgia nevertheless.

This nostalgia would only deepen into something else entirely as the day would progress. A potent kind of lovesickness.

“(F/N)!” He called out, the sound of the familiar voice turning your head his way. “Over here, love!” You let out a euphoric squeal, pushing your suitcase so it would roll in his direction--all so you could pounce on him.

“Arthur, oh my god!”

He caught you in his arms and breathed out a few laughs, then buried his nose in your hair. Oh, how he missed this scent.

“Welcome home. You don’t know how much I missed you.” Arthur knitted his brows together at that, the words he spoke prompting a rush of emotions to come sweeping in like a tidal wave. Only now did he realize how much he actually missed you. The epiphany was overwhelming, even, leaving his chest to ache in all the right places.

Thank God you were here. Your presence was nothing short of a reality check, and feeling you envelop your arms around him pushed him closer and closer to the edge. But hearing your voice broke him.

“Mhm... I’m home, Arthur. And I missed you too.” Pulling away to feel heat radiate to your face, you were shocked to see tears streaming down to his chin. He was crying. Concern flashed in your eyes and you cupped his red hot cheeks. He was never the type to be emotional, let alone in public.

But seeing you was enough to start the waterworks.

He just couldn’t take it. The contrast between you and him was drastic. Even after a flight, you were bursting at the seams with energy and a love for life. You’d been studying and practicing your craft for months, while he was buried up to the neck with work he was barely keeping up with. And eventually, it all caught up, drowning him and leaving him in the worst shape he’d ever been in.

“Hey... What’s wrong? Did something happen?”

He hung his head to hide himself. He even had to make a mental note to talk away from you because of the traces of tobacco in his breath.

“... It’s alright. I’ll tell you when we get home.” All you heard was a faint whisper. From that, you understood he didn’t want to ruin the mood of a reunion, but by his definition, he already did.

It wasn’t something you’d hold against him for. Frankly speaking, you were just worried sick. But that was exactly what he wanted to avoid.

Reaching out to his untamed lock of hair, you patted it down. And there, it stayed.

The ride back was mostly quiet. While you enthused him about your travels, you came to understand his one-line responses of ‘that’s nice’ or ‘good job’ it was best to stay silent. Whatever he was holding in was serious. He’d never been like this before, so soft-spoken, so jaded. It showed in his grayed complexion. Hollow cheeks. You even thought he’d start tipping off when the conversation died. Though one had to wonder if it was even a conversation at all.

When you managed to unpack and shower, you went straight to the kitchen to check the pantry. There was nothing but cereal and instant food. The fridge only had condiments too, not even milk.

“... Arthur, when was the last time you went shopping?”

He rubbed the nape of his neck. “Uh... Like... Two weeks ago.”

At the start of your relationship, this wouldn’t have been alarming considering how disastrous he was on a stove. But you started teaching him a few basic recipes even a child could easily manage, so you wouldn’t have to worry about him starving.

Turning to him with a small sigh, you walked up to him and held his hands. “What am I gonna do with you, huh?” You smiled softly. “Don’t tell me you’ve only been eating instant stuff while I’ve been gone. I know your taste isn’t that bad that you’d start eating cereal with water.”

He lit up like a Christmas tree and his face scrunched up. “Of course not! I’ve just been eating other things. Like... Like--” Take out. Air. Water. “--cereal bars.”

“Oh really? Which brand?”

Arthur closed his eyes as a frown downturned his features. “I can’t ever lie to you, can I?” You grinned.

“Nope. Now, what do you say we go on a little shopping trip?”

He blinked. “But you just got home, love. Aren’t you tired?”

“Sure I am.” He squeezed your hands as an apologetic expression contorted at his face. “But I can’t have you starving, can I? I’d say you’re looking a little worse off than me, to be honest.” Arthur separated his lips to interject, even when you were right on the mark. Raising a finger to his mouth to shush him, you offered another reassuring smile. “Don’t worry. I’ll drive. And I’m a little more energetic after showering. So cheer up, okay?”

His cheeks flushed red once more, but not out of embarrassment. Then, heat built up behind his eyes. “... Right. I’ll do my best.” It wouldn’t be long before his vision would start blurring.

He always loved how observant you were, but just this once, he wished you wouldn’t have to worry about him. But that was too selfish to expect of you.

Throughout the whole shopping trip, he looped a finger around one of your belt loops. He actually wanted to hold your hand, badly, but couldn’t.

You were pushing a cart after all, and while you made your way around the store, you’d catch him staring at you from behind. Even after checking a few times, his gaze on you never faltered, which left you flustered to know he’d been watching you the whole time. He never made a move to leave your side either, and remained stitched to you by the hip.

“Arthur, you wanna make yourself useful and go fetch me some milk? I didn’t bring you here just for you to follow me around.” You gave him a side-eye, finding him tense up with an awkward smile.

He was always so adorable when he was caught off guard.

“Oh yeah. Did you need anything else?”

It would only be a matter of seconds before he’d start blushing.

You hummed and reached out for his hips. “Actually, yes. Vanilla beans. Vanilla Extract. Oh! And puff pastry.” Spinning him around, you gave him a light push on the back. “Off you go now.”

Stumbling forward a few steps, he looked at you over his shoulder.

There it was--his cheeks were rosy as he stared at you through a frown.

You waved at him with a grin.

“What are you standing around for? Go!”

When you had dinner with him, you came to realize that shopping ended up being the best part of the day. Rather than indulging himself in a conversation with you, he sat there quietly and fiddled with his food. He only managed to finish half of it before scraping together the courage to tell you he was full. From that, you knew it wasn’t just stress that made him so down.

It only became more apparent when you laid in bed with him, feeling his kisses pepper over your neck and shoulder. Even after brushing his teeth, you could smell the traces of his cigarette breath. Hadn’t he quit ages ago? Needless to say, you were about to get to the bottom of it all, and find out what happened while you were gone. Clamping a hand over his mouth before he could seal it with yours, you leaned in. “Not so fast. I can smell the tobacco.”

He froze. Panic gripped hold of his system and he pulled away.

He was much too careless. Again.

But never mind that. “... Sorry.” Burying his hands in his hair, he turned away from you with a look of shame. “I was meant to drop the habit years ago. But I couldn’t stop myself. I’m sorry.”

It always broke your heart to see him so apologetic, so you didn’t hesitate to hug him. “Don’t be sorry. I know you’ve been struggling, and I’ll help you through it.”

An hour had passed since he told you everything, and it was only then did you process what he said. And you mirrored his every emotion and thought, managing a few tears yourself as he spoke to you.

The guilt he shouldered wasn’t something anybody should ever have to experience. And as thoroughly convinced he was it was his fault that two people were dead, you reminded him he wasn’t a God. He had no way of foretelling the future. He was a flawed human being, and he couldn’t blame himself for it. Not forever, at least. But you couldn’t expect him to move on so quickly.

So you’d help him forgive himself.

And you would start with this. While he had his face turned to the side, you moved it back to you. Leaning in slowly, he tilted his head to an angle fit for a kiss. Before he let his lips brush against yours, he whispered this. “... Are you sure you wanna do this? You’ll taste it...”

You furrowed your brows together and tightened your coils around his neck, bringing his body in to feel it press flush against yours.

“I don’t care what you taste like. Nothing will stop me from kissing you.”

“Fuck.” He breathed, screwing his eyes shut as his heart began to ache.

This ache then spread from his chest to the very ends of his body as he lingered over what you said. It was a miracle how mere words from you would leave him completely inundated, inundated with a terrible case of lovesickness. And he had no intention to hide it. “Kiss me now, then...”

You did exactly that, sealing the gap between your lips and his. When you did, tears overwhelmed his eyes once more, streaming down your cheek until you could taste the salt of them in your mouth. Securing his hands on your waist, he fell on his back and pulled you over him without parting. The whole night, you slept on top of his chest, and he never loosened his arms around you.

When he woke up, you were nowhere in sight. And it hurt to see you gone so early in the morning, but it wasn’t as if he could make you stay. He was the one on leave, not you. There was still a café to be run, and you were in charge of opening today. Forcing himself to get out of bed, he sauntered into the kitchen and opened the fridge. This time, there was actual food inside.

He scanned the contents before pulling out a plate with cling wrap over it.

On the top was a sticky note.

Breakfast :)

Since you couldn’t come to France with me, I’ll bring France to you!

Smiling to himself at that, he unwrapped the plastic to reveal some kind of fancy-looking dessert. In between three layers of puff pastry was a yellowish-white cream with marbled chocolate on the uppermost layer as garnish. Without wasting another second, he pulled open a drawer to get a fork. Stabbing himself a piece, his mouth was already watering before he even tasted it.

It was delicious.

But in the next minute or so, it was gone. He’d never eaten something so quickly. Hell, he practically inhaled it. That was when he realized that one slice wasn’t enough.

Setting the plate in the sink, he peered around the fridge to see if he could find some more. He huffed out a sigh of disappointment when he couldn’t. What he did find was some leftover ingredients. While he had no idea what went in these... Whatever they were called, he guessed they were made from the puff pastry he found. But the cream was the real gamechanger.

He could try baking the pastry, but he figured he’d wait for you to come home to do anything else.

When you did come home, you found him sitting around the kitchen island.

“I’m back!” Before he kissed you on the cheek as per usual, he scurried over to you and inspected the bags you were carrying. No desserts in there. A weird smile curled at your lips as you watched him stand up straight again. “Aren’t you curious? What were you expecting to find in there?”

Arthur rubbed the nape of his neck and laughed nervously. “Oh... Nothing. Just that... Dessert you had in the fridge for me. It was really good, by the way. Thank you.” Before he let the subject change to something else, he gripped your shoulders much to your surprise. “I know I might be asking for the impossible, but... You always have leftover ingredients in the fridge, and I was wondering if you could... You know...” As he trailed off as his face reddened.

Oh boy. If he was asking you to make some more, he wouldn’t be this embarrassed. But no, it was something entirely different he wanted.

“Could you maybe... Teach me how to make it?”

You blinked a few times at the unexpected request before bursting into a fit of laughter. That was when he exploded in numerous shades of crimson. Was it perhaps too much to ask for? He always was terrible in the kitchen, and it became an inside joke between you and him. “I-I mean, you don’t have to! I was just thinking... Because you told me to find something to do to distract myself and everything--”

Before he could ramble on and go on a tangent, you gave him an affectionate pinch on the cheek. “I didn’t say no, dummy. Of course, I’ll teach you.”

He lit up. “Really?”

You nodded. “Why not? If you want to make use of scraps in the fridge, I won’t stop you.” Leading him into the kitchen, you saw that he already brought out the puff pastry to thaw. "You’re a smart cookie, aren’t you?”

He totally wasn’t going to throw it straight in the oven. Definitely not.

With what you had readily available, you and Arthur made a small batch of mille-feuille. It turned out amazing, which was a given considering you did all the heavy lifting. Nevertheless, he was smiling like an idiot as he dug into his creation. That was when an idea struck you. Since he asked to be taught how to make it, you needed to test what he learned, didn’t you?

This would certainly keep him busy for the next few weeks.

When you proposed the idea, he paled. He took what he said back. There was no way he could do this himself, as simple as you made it look.

“On second thoughts, maybe not--”

You were you, he was him. Arthur. The man who could set his cereal on fire. Okay, maybe that was an exaggeration, but it wasn’t far off the mark. It was only recently did he figure out how to make pasta. The pre-made kind. As hopeless as that sounded for a fully grown adult, it was enough for you to believe in him.

While he couldn’t share the same optimistic sentiments, you always saw the good in him that he couldn’t.

“I want you to. This'll keep you busy at home. It’s better than hitting up the bar, don’t you think?” He fell silent. He wasn’t arguing with that.

So a few days later, he gave it a go like you suggested, only to end up wasting a whole pot of cream.

It was lumpy. Inedible. Disappointing.

Hanging his head by the counter, he prodded at the small bumps inside the mixture, defeated. He really couldn’t do anything right. You’d tell him he was stretching things, but he couldn’t stop his train of thought from venturing off to a topic he forbid himself to linger on. He was unable to do his job, and he couldn’t do yours either.

“Goddammit.” He grumbled out bitterly. “Sorry to disappoint, (F/N)... I think you have too much faith in me.”

Speak of the devil.

“I think I have just the right amount of faith, excuse me.”

He nearly jumped. “(F/N)? How long have you been standing there?”

You made your way to his side to peer over his shoulder. “Just a few seconds. I wanted to check up on your progress.” Seeing that things didn’t turn out well, you pat him on the back. It was an improvement nevertheless, so you weren’t giving up on him yet. “You didn’t burn it, so I’m proud of you.”

Not that it was that great of an achievement you made it out to be. That was precisely why he found himself red in the face.

“Just make sure to stir it quick enough. And make sure you cook the cream on low heat. Try again in a few days. Don’t give up yet!”

Leaving the kitchen at that, he was left to his own thoughts.

He couldn’t say he believed in himself, but he’d give it another shot. Like you said, baking was far better than his take on coping mechanisms. Even if he was terrible at it. But unbeknownst to him, that would change over the next few weeks as he improved. And slowly but surely, he’d come up with something on par with what you’d serve in your café. Piping out the last of his cream, he stacked the last layer of pastry on top before forking a piece to his mouth.

Dropping the fork to the counter in a clatter, he ran to his bedroom--or more accurately put, the bedroom he shared with you--and pulled you into the kitchen. Did he just bake something? Good? Something that didn’t taste like raw dough or scorched rocks? He was in too much disbelief to trust his own judgment. So he made you try it. And surely enough, you were in just as much shock.

“This... This is amazing. I could actually sell this.” You stared at him with wide eyes, feeling a wide smile work its way to your face. “People would pay for this, Arthur. And you made it!”

He dug his hands through his hair. “Oh my god. I actually did.” He shook his head. “Or maybe I was possessed. By the girl... At the bakery. It could be possible. Maybe she followed me home and--”

You pulled him in for a kiss to shut him up.

“Nobody possessed you. You made this yourself, so give yourself the credit you deserve.” Your wide smile softened. As always, you saw the good in him that he couldn’t. And every time, you would prove him wrong about himself. You just hoped he would realize it too--he wasn’t the static person he thought he was. Like everyone else, he could learn and grow.

Pulling you in for a tight embrace, he breathed out a few shaky laughs.

“I really did.” He murmured out airily.

It was only just a few baby steps he made, but eventually, he’d come to learn the hardest thing of all that baking followed as a close second. It could take months or even years, but with you around, he’d learn to forgive himself.

[sadistgalore]

Chapter 3: Welcome to Hell

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Whump alert everyone! (Quick note: my last post blew up yesterday so thank you to everybody who reblogged, liked, and gave me a follow! I'm so grateful for all of you :) Like seriously, the fact that you guys took time to actually read my writing and wrote such nice things made my day.) This is the first stop on the torture train, so I'm trying my best to write as much as I can for you guys. But alas, I have exams and college stuff I need to focus on this month, so posts might be slow. But anyways, enjoy!

CW: Kidnapping, panic attacks, isolation, starvation, exhaustion, defiant whumpee, lady whumpee, male whumper, creepy/intimate whumper, intimidation

Harper grunted as she was thrown into a small, cement wall room none too kindly. The door slammed behind her as she was getting up, and she heard a lock.

“Fucking...hell…” she muttered to herself, groaning at the sudden pain in her back when it impacted with the ground.

She managed to get herself up and fully take time to navigate her surroundings, seeing the cell she was trapped in. As she realized there were no windows, just a single light bulb hanging from the ceiling, that’s when reality sank in.

Oh god, oh no, fuck.

Take deep breaths. You’re fine you’re okay you’re gonna be-

Harper screams cut off her thoughts as a rat brushed up against her leg, causing her to jump up and scurry back to the wall as the rat scurried to an open crack.

Harper’s lips were trembling and a lump was starting to form in her throat. She tried her best to clutch the wall, looking for any form of leverage to calm her down.

This wasn’t supposed to happen, this wasn’t supposed to happen I’m supposed to be at the station why am so not at the station oh my god oh my god.

“Breathe,” she whispered. “Freaking out will only freak you out, just breathe.”

The girl took shallow, shaking breaths until she calmed herself into deep, steady ones. Taking in her predicament, she took the time to mentally prepare herself for whatever was about to happen to her.

Alright. I’m captured by the enemy, likely going to be tortured interrogated for information. I need to remain calm and not break however they hurt me, I must not betray my team.

Harper looked up, surveyed the room once more, and moved away from the wall. She stood in front of the door, and prepared for whatever came her way.

“Come get me, you bastards.”

She stood there for five minutes, then ten, then thirty. Her legs were tired by the first hour, and she finally gave in by the third. She opted to sit on the floor facing the wall, and remained there until she grew tired around the eighth hour.

Don’t fall asleep. You need to keep your guard up.

Harper yawned just as her stomach growled. She was starving; she hadn’t eaten since this morning. She was just so exhausted.

God, you’re exhausted? All you’ve been doing is standing in a room for hours. Toughen up.

Harper shook her head and tried to regain her focus. “Stay,” she yawned. “Awake...Harper.”

She stood at the door for a few more moments, then next thing she knew she fell asleep.

She woke up the next morning (or at least she thought it was morning, there were no windows) laying on her side on the cold floor.

Fuck, I fell asleep.

She quickly checked over herself to see if anything changed on her person, change of clothes, blood, but everything was kept the same. So was her empty stomach which had only gotten worse throughout the night.

Harper shut her eyes and gripped her stomach, the pain starting to become unbearable as she wasn’t used to not eating three meals a day.

“Hey!” She yelled to no one. “You have a prisoner in here!”

No one responded.

“Hello? I’m starving in here!” Some part of her told her that she shouldn't be communicating and expressing her weakness to the enemy, but she didn’t care.

She rolled her eyes and walked up to the door. She loudly banged and screamed, “Does anyone know I’m here?! Let me out!”

She continued banging her arms against the door and even tried kicking it a few times for about twenty minutes until she tired herself out. She slowly walked back to the wall and slumped to the floor, swallowing down a whimper as her stomach growled once more.

She spent the day falling in and out of naps and growing more distressed at her hunger but still, no one came into her cell. That routine continued into the next day, and the next.

She barely managed a sob as she was curled up in a corner on the fourth day, the starvation she was experiencing was absolutely horrible. She couldn’t help but think how she got here, her stupid decision might have cost her her life.

“I have to go.”

“Harper-”

Harper walked back into the supply room, sneaking in just as Alpha team was preparing to leave. She geared up and not even thinking about the consequences as she headed to her squadron car, preparing to follow the team and meet them at the crime scene.

“I don't care what they say,” she muttered to herself. “This is my life, this is my story, this is my fucking case. I am going to be the one to bring this ‘Dark’ in, and I’m going to find my brother and bring my father’s killer to justice. I don’t care what that stupid chief says, I don’t care what Nic or Beth think, they don’t know what I’ve fucking gone through.”

“Oh, your poor soul,” a voice said from behind her and the detective quickly turned around to see just the man she was going after.

“You…” she whispered.

“You,” he said back in a much more seductive tone than hers.

But the first word she said was all that Harper could manage. She couldn’t believe that she was standing in front of the man that had ruined her life but yet, she couldn’t do anything but just stand there.

He stepped closer. “You grow more beautiful with age, Harper.”

She remained standing, struggling to get words out. “W-what?”

The man, Dark, chuckled. “You know, I’ve been watching you for a long time, ever since I saw you in that circus show.”

He continued slowly walking towards her. “You were only 14 but damn, you were the most beautiful soul I had ever met. And now,”

He laughed again as he noticed her slight trembling once he was right in front of her. “Well, you’re just fucking perfect.”

“I-I don’t understand?-”

“You don’t need to. All you need to know that the wait is over, and you’re mine.”

With that, Harper snapped out of her trance, and slowly reached for her combat knife behind her back. “The only person I belong to is me,” she said defiantly.

“No anymore, sweetheart,” he said, looking down where her hand was reaching.

Harper glared for just a second longer than threw her arm at him with the knife in hand, but Dark swiftly caught her wrist, stopping just a few inches from his own face. Harper then went to give him a right hook, to which he twisted the knife holding arm behind her back, maneuvering her body around until both arms were locked behind her.

“Let...me...go! You..ugh-bastard!” She grunted as she threw herself off of him before quickly turning back around to meet face to face with the man’s gun.

“I’m not playing, little dove. Stand down.”

Harper nodded and raised her hands defeated. Dark smiled at her loss, then nodded his head to the two men standing at a separate spot in the garage, now walking towards the couple.

“You won’t get away with this,” the girl promised as her arms were handcuffed behind her back.

“Oh trust me,” he chuckled again, then leaning right into her face he said, “I will.”

The next thing Harper knew was her struggle to breathe as a cloth was tightly pressed against her mouth and nose, and then she blacked out.

Now Harper was leaning back against the way and she loudly groaned, “Fuuuuck.”

Great job, Harp! You just HAD to go off on your own and try to be a hero, huh? Now you’re at the mercy of a freaking pervert!

“Damn it!” She yelled, throwing her hands up in the air. She angrily got up and walked over to the door.

“Hey, asshole! You can’t do this, I’m not your fucking property! And I swear you’re going to pay for what you did to my family!”

She yelled curses for about ten minutes until she grew exhausted again. She couldn’t go another day without any food.

So again she laid on the floor, but something else was making her stomach hurt other than the hunger.

When she woke up on the fifth day, she couldn’t take it anymore.

“Please,” she whispered. “Please, someone bring me food.” She waited a few moments, but still no one came.

“Please!” She yelled louder. “I’m sorry, okay? I won’t yell, I won’t curse, but please someone just give me food!”

She was almost in hysterics and still, no one came.

“Please,” she went back to whispering. “Please, I’ll be good. I d-don’t wanna die, please.”

Just as she was about to pass out, the cell door unlocked and a man walked in. He walked over to the wall, kneeled down, and gently lifted up her face with his hand.

“Good girl,” he said as he snapped his fingers, which brought a guard in carrying a tray of food.

Dark lifted her up and leaned back against the wall, with her weight on top of his chest. Though Harper’s daze, she could tell the food looked and smelled like shit, but she made no protest as her captor brought a spoonful to her lips.

Almost as if he read her mind, he spoke up. “I know the food isn’t your first choice right now, but it’s what you deserve. If you were quiet and cooperative like this on the first day, I would’ve brought you some spaghetti and meatballs. I know it’s your favorite.”

It was.

“See, this is how things are going to work here, little dove,” he started as he continued spoon feeding her while caressing his hand through her hair. “If you behave and do what I tell you to do, you’ll be rewarded. But if you keep up this defiant streak,”

He put the spoon down and roughly grabbed her hair, forcing her to look up at him. “You’ll see my not so nice side. Understand?”

Harper slowly nodded, fearing if she didn’t she wouldn’t get any more food.

Dark didn’t look satisfied as he dropped her head back down. “We’ll have to work on how you address me. Can’t say I blame you, your training begins tomorrow after all.”

With that, the man got up, carrying the plate of food with him. Harper whimpered as she wasn’t yet satisfied with her meal.

Dark turned back around when he heard her, and gave her a mock pout. “Aw, it’s okay. You just need to learn, little dove.”

“Everything you get here is what you deserve. Everything that happens to you is your fault. Next time, don’t give me such a fucking attitude, got it?

He didn’t care what her response was as he walked back out, locking the door behind him.

Harper just stared at the door in shock, not really processing what had just happened.

“Training?”

[izlaria]

Someone you like (part 2)

This is the second chapter of my “Someone you like” inspired fic. It’s also available on AO3 in case you prefer that platform.

Feel free to write comments in the tags or send me messages about this. I love feedback!

16 and 14 years old

Pidge Gunderson. I am Pidge Gunderson.

Katie looked herself in the mirror, trying to convince her brain that the image reflected was hers, that it was a boy, with no previous links to the Garrison, someone who had wanted to go into Communications.

It didn’t really work. All she saw was Matt: his glasses; his short, unkempt haircut; his nickname for her.

Maybe it was better like this. Katie had initially meant to immerse herself in this new identity, to go so deep into Pidge Gunderson that no one would be able to see past the cover, but the truth still kept slipping through her defenses. Katie was a Holt and her family was missing, so she was gonna find them. Pidge was just a tool.

It would be easier if there weren’t so many risks in studying at the Garrison.

Her father hadn’t brought her around often, but Katie had become infamous among the night-time security for her excursions to discover sensitive information regarding the Kerberos mission. Iverson, in particular, was probably expecting a new advance on her part.

He hadn’t recognized her, yet.

Sometimes Katie worried that she’d already been exposed and that they were just gathering evidence before actually making a move against her. If the Garrison was willing to lie about her father’s and brother’s deaths, then she couldn’t overlook the possibility that corruption ran deep within the organization.

She sighed, tugging at the ends of her hair.

“Come on, Gunderson!” she heard someone shout from outside her door. “You’re coming to lunch with us whether you want to or not!”

Lance continued to make noises, probably talking to Hunk. They usually threatened to hack into her keypad if she didn’t come out to join them for meals. Katie couldn’t really understand their stubbornness. She might have appreciated their offer of friendship back in Middle School, when she’d felt ostracized by her peers, but now it was just another hazard to her already convoluted plan.

“Go bother some poor girl, McClain!” Katie shouted in response, feeling more inpatient than strictly necessary.

She knew that Lance meant well, but she didn’t have time for his hijinks. Katie had a duty to her family, first and foremost, and any effort spent placating her teammates was a waste in that regard. Not to mention that Lance had a knack for attracting attention that completely opposed her own need to remain unseen.

Her door slid open with an elegant swoosh.

Katie poked her head from the bathroom to glare at the two boys who stood there. Hunk had the sense to look ashamed, but Lance just grinned.

“It’s bonding time, Pidge!” He stepped into the room, arms wide open. His easy smile was the same as ever, despite the news they’d received earlier that day about their performance stats. It was probably why Lance was there, after all.

Katie actually felt a little bad about the whole thing. She wasn’t particularly invested in training as a communications officer and, though she wouldn’t say it affected her retainment of the knowledge demanded from her, it certainly translated into frustration when they were in the simulator.

She wasn’t much of a team player, Katie could admit.

“If you’re trying to get on my good side, this is not how to do it,” she grumbled, trying her best to keep her voice low. Too much of a change would eventually weight on her vocal cords or sound plain ridiculous, but a difference in pitch and speech patterns were certainly necessary to disguise her true identity. Thankfully, any slip up could be attributed to puberty, as she’d been seeing many of their male classmates endure the difficulties of cracking voices.

Lance took her by the shoulders and shook her indiscriminately. “Quit being the worst!” His cheerfulness hid the vexation that Katie knew he truly felt. “We’re having burgers today, so I’m not letting you bring us down.”

She snickered. Lance was notorious for his love of junk food, despite Hunk’s attempts to get them more nutritious meals. He frequently spoke about his mother’s cooking but didn’t seem to have that same interest in the dietary plan prepared by the Garrison.

Katie couldn’t really fault him for that. Their meals were usually so blend that they seemed to withdraw taste from any of the condiments added.

From behind Lance, Hunk had finally gathered enough courage to come in. He looked around in such false innocence that Katie might have believed him, hadn’t she caught him going through her drawers the previous week. That boy was nosy as hell.

Just another reason to keep them away.

“If I go with you to the cafeteria, does that mean I can get you out of my room?” She fixed them with a stony look.

“For a time,” Lance offered, all cheeky and bright and annoying.

Hunk put a hand on his shoulder, pulling his friend back from Katie. “We noticed you didn’t eat yesterday, again.” He sighed. “If you took better care of yourself, we wouldn’t come here so often.”

Katie let that reasoning sit with her for a bit. She usually sneaked granola bars and other less-perishable types of food into her room to eat while she worked, but it was true that she didn’t really sit for meals unless the boys pushed her. She didn’t think they would notice.

It brought a strange warmth to her chest. She’d felt cold for so long now, always at arm’s length from those around her. Her mother had tried, but she was grieving and her suffering filled her until there was no more room for her daughter. These small kindnesses had gone away with Matt.

She struggled not to reach into her pocket for the picture she kept of them. Hunk had a curious soul and Lance was a gossip; they had almost caught her one too many times.

“I guess I did want your input on how to recalibrate this old radio I found in the junkyard…” Katie huffed out a breath, which the boys took as a surrender.

“Ah, nothing like the smell of oil and grease to really improve the day!” Lance put an arm around her shoulders, but she quickly dodged away, lest he recognize anything different about her body. Even though she was already pretending to be a boy, Katie didn’t want to also have to pretend to be trans. It was a line that she dared not cross, morally.

She felt the dysmorphia more acutely than she’d imagined she would. As a child, she had enjoyed cutesy things and dresses and her long hair. The sudden departure from those possessions was supposed to remove her from her previous identity, but Katie would always know the truth. There was no escaping it.

More than anything, it was the inability to choose that left her frazzled. The loose clothes and glasses and boyish haircut didn’t bother her and they did give her a liberty that more feminine wear didn’t, but Katie wished the circumstances allowed her to be a girl too, sometimes.

Alas, here she was, stuck between Hunk and Lance as they basically escorted her to the cafeteria. Matt would have a conniption if he ever found out there were boys breaking into her room at all times of the day.

“You thinking about those amazing fries we’re gonna get?” Lance sighed dreamily. “Honestly, I don’t know how they do it. Every other meal freaking sucks, but then Monday comes around and the cooks just nail it!”

Hunk chuckled, nodding along. “They probably want to put us in a good mood for the week. Everybody knows that getting back to classes after the weekend can be hard.”

“Hard? It’s impossible.” Lance dragged his hands through his face. “I nearly fell asleep during Arithmetic today. Professor Reeves is such a bore!”

“Maybe you wouldn’t fall asleep if you didn’t spend Sunday nights in town,” Katie quipped before she could stop herself.

“Yeah, well,” Lance floundered. “What’s your excuse, then? You won’t come with us, but you still look dead on your feet in the mornings!”

“I’m just not a morning person.” She crossed her arms, turning away from Lance.

In doing so, however, she came face to face with Hunk, who was staring at her with an inquisitive look. He was less loud about it than Lance, but it was clear that he also had questions about what Katie spent her time doing.

She tightened her arms around herself, feeling her stomach drop.

This was why Katie didn’t like to talk to them. It was usually easy to ignore Lance, because of how over-the-top he was, but Hunk’s gentleness and concern made the guilt rise within her. She didn’t want to involve other people in her lies, didn’t want them to believe Pidge was their friend only to be faced with a betrayal.

And that’s how they would see it, wasn’t it? Katie didn’t have a lot of experience with friendships, especially not ones as deep as Hunk and Lance’s, but no sane person would take it lightly to find out someone had lied about their whole identity and motivations.

Besides, if she ever did find out what the Garrison was hiding, it could possibly affect the future of the organization and disrupt the trajectory of every student there.

Before Katie could go further into her spiraling thoughts, she felt Hunk maneuver her into the cafeteria line. She had tuned out the rest of their conversation and now Lance spoke of a girl in his Aerodynamics class.

She ignored his ramblings. Lance tried to project this image of a lady’s man, but the few dates he’d scored since they started school never seemed to really move forward. They ended up in an endless cycle in which Lance fixated on some girl, hit on her endlessly, then finally gave up and went crying to Hunk.

Katie couldn’t see the appeal of it, but it most likely had to do with Lance’s self-esteem and need for validation.

“I think Jiya might actually like me!” he declared, despite how both Hunk and Katie were more focused on filling their trays with food. “Whenever the teacher asks me to stay behind and clean up, she stays to help! That has to mean something!”

Katie collected her juice box and went to sit down, pointedly ignoring Lance’s questions.

“I’m sure you’re right,” Hunk said agreeably. He didn’t sound too sure, but his expression showed that he was trying to be positive for Lance’s sake.

“Or, you know, the girl is just a nice person who thought you were being picked on by the teacher.” Katie raised her eyes to give Lance an unimpressed look. “And you’re reading too much into it.”

The boy scowled at her. “What would you know, Pidge? I’ve never seen you with a girl before.”

“Yeah,” she raised an eyebrow, feeling smug that the other two wouldn’t understand the humor in this. “What do I know of girls?”

Katie had to suppress a laugh when Lance turned to her with a very confused expression. Hunk, however, gave her a small, secretive smile that set off all kinds of warning signs.

“I don’t get it,” Lance complained to Hunk, then turned back to her. “I don’t get it!”

“Well,” Hunk started and immediately her heart started pounding in her chest. Outwardly, Katie tried to remain impassive. “The girls in our class all love Pidge.”

“They do?!” Lance burst out, eyes widened. His gaze shifted back and forth between her and Hunk.

They didn’t, Katie was pretty sure. Did they?

“They think he’s cute,” Hunk confirmed, waving his fork in the air as if trying to recall the exact words. “Pidge is quiet, but he’s smart and mostly polite, so Denise decided he was a good guy and the rest of the girls kinda followed her lead.”

Now that Katie thought about it, it was true that she’d helped Denise with her Bio homework and that people had been nicer to her since. She supposed they could see Pidge in a good light, especially because he seemed so much younger than the other students in Engineering.

Katie blinked rapidly to dispel her thoughts. She’d been thinking of Pidge in the third person, again.

“Fine, then.” Lance narrowed his eyes at Katie. “What miraculous advice do you have for me, oh Great Pidgeon?”

Despite his sarcasm, it was clear that Lance truly wanted an answer. It was one of the most ridiculous situations Katie had ever found herself in.

“How about you show some interest in what these girls like, instead of showboating around them?” She flicked a fry at him, which Hunk quickly stole for himself. “Sure, some people want to be impressed, but we all got into the Garrison and a lot of them already know your grades on the simulator. Most girls want someone who will listen and who they can have fun with.”

“I can be fun!” Lance protested.

“I get what Pidge’s saying, though,” Hunk intervened. Katie hadn’t meant to be harsh, but Lance suddenly looked a little deflated. “We know that you’re great, but you’re always so busy trying to be what these girls want from you that you don’t really get to know them. A little kindness goes a long way.���

Katie nodded along, munching on her burger. “No girl wants an egocentric boyfriend,” she added, mouth still half full. Lance glared at her in both disgust and indignancy.

“I don’t want to hear this from you, Mister I’m-not-here-to-make-friends!”

She shrugged and continued to eat her burger.

“Okay, okay…” Hunk put his hands up placatingly. “How about I get us some dessert and we change the subject?”

Lance glanced at him through the corner of his eyes. “Those guava-flavored popsicles?”

“You know it!” Hunk grinned back at him and the two shared a high-five.

“You’re so easy to please,” Katie commented once Hunk had gotten up. She used her last fry to soak up the mayo leftover on her plate.

Lance glared at her for a moment, before letting the last of his annoyance slip away. He reached into his backpack and took out an apple.

“Here.” He deposited it on her tray.

Katie frowned at him. “What is this?”

“You always eat fruit after we get something greasy, right?” he asked it casually, distracted by trying to squeeze ketchup onto his remaining fries. The condiment bottles in the cafeteria were continuously blocked.

“Yeah.” She blinked up at him, caught by surprise. Her voice had gone soft and she had to clear her throat to dispel the emotion that knotted there. “I didn’t think you would remember.”

Lance looked up from his food to give her an exaggerated eye-roll.

“You’re my friend, Pidge.” He kicked her under the table. “In spite of all your efforts to keep me away.”

She stayed silent for a moment, staring at the apple.

“Thank you,” she said. I’m sorry, she wanted to add, but it would make no sense to him. As far as Lance knew, Pidge was cold and self-involved and clinical to a fault.

“Don’t mention it!” He threw a fry up and tried to catch it with his mouth, but it merely bounced off his nose, marking it with ketchup. “Dang! One more!”

Katie let out a breath of laughter. Then, sitting up to better her odds, she waved at Lance. “Try me.”

By the time Hunk returned, Katie was biting into her apple as Lance complained about the ketchup stains he’d gotten on his uniform jacket.

--

She didn’t know what had driven her away from the dorms that day. There was a restless energy within her that demanded space and, though she’d never been the biggest fan of nature, it had sent her directly into the Arizona desert.

Katie felt like Pidge, today. Not like Pidge Gunderson, but like the little girl who’d yelled a misheard swearword at locked doors, until her brother had come to her rescue. She felt young and impulsive and alive, despite the grief that still weighted on her shoulders.

More than anything, she missed her mom.

In Katie’s eyes, Coleen Holt knew everything there was to know about agriculture and plant life. She was a different kind of genius from her father and brother, possessing a peacefulness about her that none of the other Holts could ever hope for. It had been a comfort through the years of Katie’s adolescence.

Sitting underneath one of the few trees distributed across the Garrison grounds reminded Katie of her grandmother’s place in Italy, where the fruit trees spread as far as the horizon. If she closed her eyes, she could imagine the sweet smells that rose from the vegetation.

“I wonder if they have lemon trees here,” she murmured to herself.

“I don’t think they do, Pidge.”

Katie lurched back in shock. She felt her shoulder scrape against the tree trunk and had to stretch out an arm to keep from falling. Lance sent her a carefree grin, bent down at the waist to look her in the eye, as he usually did. It irritated Katie to no end, not only for how condescending it was, but because it always put him too far into her personal bubble.

“What are you even doing here, Lance?” she asked once her heartrate had gone down.

“I saw you through a window and thought we could eat together, since Hunk is sick.” He looked pointedly at the half-eaten sandwich she’d tossed in her surprise. “I see you started without me.”

“Well, now I’ll have to buy something else for lunch, so thanks for that,” she said through gritted teeth.

“Don’t be like that, Pidgeon.” Lance poked her on the ribs. “I even brought you something as a bribe.” And then he extended an apple towards her.

Katie took it, trying to cover up her amusement with exasperation. “Do you think I’m obsessed with apples or something?”

“Next time I’ll bring you a lemon,” he teased.

Maybe it was because she felt more herself than she had in weeks, but Katie snickered at him. While his sanguinity could be exhausting, this time it was a welcome relief from the stagnation she’d fallen under.

Lance pulled out a sandwich from his pack, one of those 30 centimeters subs in Italian bread and multiple fixings, and Katie felt her mouth water at the sight. He must have noticed, because Lance chuckled and broke out one end for her.

“I think this is a palo verde,” he remarked after swallowing his first bite. At a confused look from Katie, he clarified, “the tree. You were talking about it before, right?”

“You speak Spanish?”

“Yeah…” He sounded like he was laughing at her. “I’m Cuban.”

Katie suddenly felt very stupid. He and Hunk had probably mentioned this already, but she didn’t pay them that much attention. It was a little embarrassing, especially when Lance seemed to be memorizing every small piece of information she offered him.

“Oh.” She searched for the right thing to say. “I didn’t know. Your last name sounds American.”

The whole situation left in her a sense of déjà vu. She couldn’t quite remember why, but the words pulled at her memory.

Thankfully, Lance took it in stride. “Our family has been to the US, then back to Cuba, then back to the US for generations. My whole name is actually Lance Serrano Mcclain.”

She nodded. Normally Katie would let the conversation drop and focus on finishing her meal, but she had already decided to take a bit of a break that day, in order to be more attentive at night. It couldn’t hurt to find out more about her teammate.

“So… Palo verde?”

“It means green stick, which seems kind of unfair, because this tree is actually pretty big, especially for the climate around here.” Lance fanned himself. “I hate how dry it gets.”

She almost agreed with him, but, as far as Lance and Hunk were concerned, Pidge Gunderson had no reason to have been outside of Arizona. Instead, she pretended to ponder his comment.

“The desert can be pretty unpredictable. The lack of humidity during the day is bad, but I wouldn’t want to be caught out when the temperatures drop.”

Lance faked a shiver. “Don’t even talk about that! I have too much tropical blood to handle the cold well. Hunk’s Samoan, by the way,” and there was unnecessary emphasis to his words here, “so he’s the same.”

“I didn’t realize both of you weren’t from around here.” Katie could imagine how much they missed their families. Choosing to voluntarily leave so that they could study at the Garrison must have been difficult.

“That’s nice to hear.”

She frowned. “What do you mean?”

“It’s just…” He scrunched up his nose, as if he wanted to take back the words as he said them. “You were so cold to us when we first met, we weren’t sure what it was about.”

It was her turn to grimace. Katie hadn’t wanted to seem like so much of a jerk. She could be snappish and patronizing, even with those she loved, but her haughtiness towards her teammates had been a façade created to keep them out. Not that it did any good.

“Ugh, you’re already closed off, again.” Lance threw his head back in frustration. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“It’s just personal, Lance.” Katie played with the apple in her hands. “I swear it’s not about you two.”

Without looking directly at him, she couldn’t tell what expression Lance was making. He stared at her, letting the silence extend.

Then he popped the last of the sub into his mouth, spreading back onto the grass.

“We will pester it out of you.” She turned to see him grinning. The confidence there was a quiet thing, so much different than Lance’s usual hyperboles and that much more effective. She felt dazed by it. “Eventually.”

Katie had never understood what the girls in her school meant when they talked about crushes. They always seemed frivolous, going on about someone’s hair or how handsome they were or how strong. Meanwhile, Katie had simply hoped for a friend, for a respite to the unending mocking.

Still, Lance suddenly looked very interesting under this light. His chin was too pointed to be considered attractive, but his blue eyes caught the sunshine like polished stone. He could be funny and thoughtful and inventive, attributes Katie hadn’t expected to value.

She moved her gaze to where another group of students was sitting, uncertain if the heat running up her neck would translate into a damning blush. She bit into the apple to keep from incriminating herself further.

[acanvasofabillionsuns]

been thinking ‘bout your touch

ao3!

Summary: 3 times Logan initiates contact, and one time his family returns the favor Warnings: character overworking themself, a brief mention of the American Civil War/slavery, Inside Out spoilers (specifically Bing Bong’s storyline) Wordcount: 3501

Logan walked into the commons and promptly forgot what he’d gone in there for, instead walking over to the couch and hugging a softly crying Patton.

“Oh!” Patton said, startled. “Hey, Logan!”

“Hello, Patton.”

Patton hugged Logan back, sinking into the contact for a moment before starting to pull away. Logan held on.

“Everything okay, kiddo?”

“I am fine, thank you. Studies show it takes 20 seconds of physical contact for endorphins to be released, so I am attempting to provide that.”

“Ooookay?”

“You were crying when I entered the room.” Was Patton not aware of that?

“Oh!” Patton said. He pushed on Logan’s shoulders gently, moving far enough back to initiate eye contact. “Logan, I’m watching Inside Out.”

Logan let go of the hug and turned to look at the TV. It was indeed playing Inside Out, the little joy and sadness characters on screen. He turned back to Patton, ready to ask why this mattered, but Patton beat him to it.

“Bing Bong just died. It was sad, but I’m fine.”

Oh.

“I see.” Logan cleared his throat and stood up, hoping he didn’t look as foolish as he felt. “I’m glad you’re alright—”

“Wanna stay and finish the movie with me?” Patton looked up at him hopefully. He’d pulled out his so-called “puppy dog eyes.” This was unfair.

“Wellllll,” Logan hedged, still embarrassed. “I should probably go back to work…”

“Please?” This was definitely unfair.

Logan sighed and sat down beside Patton, trying to squash his smile.

“Yay!” Patton cheered, scooching over to wrap Logan in a hug and settle into his side.

Logan didn’t think he was successful in hiding his grin.

Virgil, Logan had noticed, tended to hole up in his room often. He came out for meals and movie nights, and sometimes would sit in the living room, and even on occasions socialize, but more often than not he was in his room.

As none of them were permitted inside Virgil’s room for very long—anxiety overloading their functions and all that—spending so much time in there could not be conducive to getting very much physical contact, even factoring in Patton’s apparent mission to hug Virgil at least once in every encounter between the two of them. As sides, they did not technically need physical contact, just as they did not technically need food or sleep, but it was better for Thomas and for themselves if they got all three in healthy amounts.

Virgil, Logan was quite sure, was not getting a healthy amount of touch.

He aimed to remedy this.

So the next time Logan found Virgil sitting in the living room, he grabbed a book and joined him. Luckily, Virgil was sprawled out on the couch, instead of in one of the armchairs or in some other spot where seeking physical contact with him might’ve been difficult.

“May I join you?” Logan asked, nodding to the spot on the couch where Virgil’s head lay.

“Oh, uh, sure,” Virgil said awkwardly, sitting upright.

“Thank you.” He settled into his spot and found his place in the book. Starting to read, he informed Virgil, “If you wish to lay back down, I would not be opposed.”

“Uh, alright.” Virgil carefully settled his head in Logan’s lap.

About a chapter later, Logan realized Virgil had relaxed into his position on top of Logan, which gave him the courage to ask, “Would it be alright if I settled a hand in your hair?”

Virgil tilted his head back to look at Logan. “Why?”

“My arm’s growing a bit tired from being held up. If it makes you uncomfortable, though, I can certainly figure something else out.”

“Nah,” Virgil told him, tilting his head forward again. “Go ahead.”

Logan gingerly places his hand on Virgil’s head, letting his fingers tangle slightly in his hair before turning back to his book.

He’d reached the climax and so had gotten caught up in the story for the next several chapters, enough to completely forget his surroundings. So it was a while before he realized that he’d started mindlessly playing with Virgil’s hair. Virgil had completely relaxed in his lap and seemed to be on the verge of falling asleep.

Logan smiled at the sight, and at the success of his plan, and turned back to his book, making sure he didn’t disturb Virgil as he did so.

“Logan!” Roman hollered, stretching out the name as he hurtled down the stairs.

“Yes?”

“I’m bored,” Roman groaned, flopping in the chair beside Logan’s theatrically. “Do you have any quests to complete?” On principle, Logan didn’t particularly care to attempt to entertain any bored sides that came his way for amusement. He was a busy side, after all, and didn’t have time to waste over someone else’s lack of stimulation. 

He still didn’t particularly care about Roman’s boredom this time around, but as his work was completed, he figured it couldn’t hurt to at least talk with Roman.

“Alas,” Roman sighed, bringing a hand up to his forehead and closing his eyes, “I completed all my recent ones yesterday, and I have no inspiration to make more. So I am completely and utterly out of things to do…” He trailed off, a hint of something in his tone that suggested he wanted Logan to ask something of him. 

After a moment Roman cracked an eye open to squint at him, confirming the theory. Logan, lacking any idea what he wanted, raised an eyebrow.

“...Unless, of course, someone were interested in my daring exploits,” Roman continued pointedly, closing his eyes again and somehow posing more.

“It’s ‘was,’ not ‘were.’” Boredom was no excuse for bad grammar.

“So that I might then enthrall them with the tales of my valor.” Roman swatted at Logan with his free hand.

Logan sighed, rolling his eyes. “Oh, Roman, would you please tell me all about your amazing quests.”

“I would be delighted to!” Roman grinned, springing up from his chair. “It all began two days ago, when I was attempting to blend in among the populace—”

“Do you need to be facing me to tell me this?” Logan interrupted. Maybe it was rude, but it wasn’t like he hadn’t been cut off himself many times before, and anyway, better to cut in at the start then wait until some point in the middle.

“I suppose not.” Roman frowned at him. “Why’d you ask?”

“I’d like to braid your hair while I listen, if you don’t mind.” Otherwise he’d just be sitting there, hands idle.

“Oh!” Roman brightened. “Go ahead!”

Logan nodded and moved to sit cross legged on the couch, gesturing to the space in front of him. Roman snatched up a couple pillows and arranged them in a kind of throne in front of Logan, plopping on top of them and wiggling around in an extravagant attempt at getting comfortable.

“Okay,” he declared after a minute. “So. My cover was blown in a matter of minutes when a young boy approached me and insisted he needed my help…”

As he listened, Logan wove little cornrows into Roman’s hair and conjured tiny hair bands to tie them off as he finished them.

“...And the townsfolk were grateful enough to throw a party in my honor! Though unfortunately I got summoned soon after it started, but whatever! Spending time with you guys is better than with imagined people I don’t really know,” Roman finished, doing a little flourish with his hands. He turned to face Logan. “So, what’d you think?”

“I think you need to stay still so I can finish this braid,” Logan told him, clutching onto the strands of hair he’d been in the middle of weaving together. 

Roman huffed, but faced forward again. “So?”

“You did a great job and told it eloquently. I particularly liked the part with the bull, and the imagery with the puzzle.”

“Thank you!” Logan could hear the smile in his voice.

“You’re welcome.” He conjured a final hair band and twisted it around the ends of the braid. “There.”

Roman instantly jumped up, twisting around to grin at Logan as he sang, “Your turn!”

“My turn?”

“I wanna do your hair now,” Roman said, pouting a little.

“You being the one to both talk and braid hair doesn’t give me anything to do, though,” Logan pointed out. “That was kind of the point of me braiding your hair.”

“Then you talk!”

“I haven’t gone on any quests, though.”

“Then tell me about a book you’ve read!” Roman supplied easily. “Any clever twists and turns you didn’t see coming? Plot holes that could’ve been easily fixed? Surely there must be something you want to talk about.”

“Well… “ Logan slowly slid onto Roman’s pillow throne. 

Roman bounced onto the spot where Logan had been. “It’s settled, you’ve gotta tell me now!”

Logan huffed, rolling his eyes. “Very well.”

“Explain that plot, my good nerd!” Roman tilted Logan’s head back slightly to start a braid at the crown of his hair.

“The book begins with the characters…”

Logan knew it was his own fault.

He knew he was overworking himself, barely remembering to eat and sleep to help keep Thomas healthy and hardly coming out of his room. It’d been this way for a few weeks, since he’d picked up this project. And he knew he didn’t have to be working this hard, didn’t technically have to do this project at all, but here he was, carrying on by telling himself he’d just finish this one part— (But there was always another part following it, and then he had to finish that part too, and so on and so on.

He’d… he’d finish it eventually.)

So Logan knew it was his own fault he wanted a hug so badly, but that didn’t stop the yearning.

Logan leaned back in his chair, looking over the work he’d finished and mentally calculating how long it would take to complete the rest. If he kept working at the pace he’d been working at… about two days?

He could do two days. Anyone could do two days; a child could do two days. Two days, and then he’d be done, and he’d let himself go ask for a hug.

Two days and then a hug, he repeated as he leaned forward again, picking up his pencil and resuming his work.

It didn’t end up being two days.

First, he’d nearly fallen asleep at his laptop, and in his startle awake he’d accidentally deleted a big chunk of his work that’d needed to be recalculated and typed out. Then he’d made a mistake in his written work, and so had to comb through everything he’d already done to find it and then replace all the work after it.

So it was a week later that he realized his ‘two days’ had come and gone three times over, and he still hadn’t finished (or gotten a hug). If anything, he might’ve been set back in his work from when he’d promised himself that.

He sighed and looked at the clock. 7:23, and him using military time meant he’d stayed up all night again.

Logan was debating whether or not he should go get some food, maybe try to sleep, when someone gently pulled his chair away from the desk, hands on his shoulders. He startled.

“Logan,” Patton whispered, breath hot against his ear. “You need a break.”

Logan sighed and nodded. “I do.”

“Then let’s get you one.” Patton let go of his shoulders, and Logan barely had time to mourn the loss before Patton was taking his hands and heaving him up from the chair. The leather made a ripping sound as his legs unstuck.

“Definitely need a break,” Patton said decidedly. “Have you had breakfast yet?” Logan shook his head. “Then we’ll start there!”

Logan smiled fondly as Patton tugged him downstairs and into the kitchen. Virgil was on the counter, looking up from his phone as they arrived.

“Hey, Logan,” he smirked, though his eyes looked a little too relieved for his expression to seem genuine. “Long time, no see.”

“I’ve been… absorbed in this project.” The way he said it made it almost sound like an apology, though that was ridiculous. Nothing about that sentence was an apology. (It was, kind of, an apology.)

Virgil nodded and patted the counter space beside him. “Sit with me while Pat makes breakfast?”

“Sounds like a great idea!” Patton declared, squeezing Logan’s hands and clapping him on the back before turning and pulling out pans and ingredients.

Logan pushed himself onto the counter, looking over as Virgil tilted his screen towards him. He was watching what seemed like a conspiracy video, captions on and sound turned off. It appeared to be claiming the Civil War was some personal feud between a couple influential people, instead of about slavery. (It was, of course, a white person talking animatedly on screen.) Logan rolled his eyes at the idea, but watched anyway, occasionally murmuring contradictions to what the video was saying.

After it ended, Virgil pulled up another conspiracy video, looking over at Logan. He nodded, and Virgil pressed play, leaning against Logan’s side as the video started.

Logan very carefully did not stiffen, not wanting to scare Virgil away, and slowly relaxed into the touch. Virgil was warm against his side, and he soaked up that heat gratefully.

They watched about an hour’s worth of conspiracy videos, with Patton puttering around the kitchen as pleasant background noise. Logan could’ve easily watched for another hour, but biscuits, bacon, and eggs didn’t keep very well, and Logan was hungry. It was only with minor reluctance that he took his seat at the table.

“Roman! Breakfast!”

Logan heard more than saw Roman clattering downstairs, chair facing away from the steps. There was the thundering of feet, a thump that sounded more like he’d jumped the last few stairs then fallen, and—a gasp?

“You’ve escaped!” Roman cried, and Logan twisted in his chair to see what he was talking about just in time to be engulfed in a hug.

After a moment, Roman released him, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “Sorry, I should’ve—”

“Roman.” Logan hoped the waver in his voice wasn’t too prominent to the others. “Come here and hug me properly.”

Roman lit up, bending down in a sort of squat as Logan twisted to sit sideways in his chair, so that they met in the middle and melted into a hug. (Logan clung perhaps a bit more tightly than he would’ve admitted. He’d missed this.)

After a minute Logan made himself pull back. “My apologies, that couldn’t have been a comfortable position to hold for so long.”

“I don’t care,” Roman assured him. “Don’t worry, I would’ve pulled away sooner if it was bothering me—Zeus, it’s so good to see you; do you even realize how long you’ve been locked up in your room?”

“A month and two days,” Logan said quietly. “Technically, just three days, as that was the last time I’d come out of my room to get food, but—thirty-two days.”

“What were you even doing in there?”

“I’ve been working to try and come up with a better way to manage Thomas’s finances, as well as trying to figure out his taxes. I know it’s unnecessary, especially to the degree I’ve been doing so, but…” But what? He couldn’t stop working? Preposterous; he could’ve, he’d just chosen not to, and then lost track of time and kept going until it had devolved into somehow being locked in his room for a month.

“Well, then!” Roman set a hand on Logan’s shoulder and it ached, almost, with how good it felt. (Logan might’ve become touch starved. He’d acknowledged that a while ago and kept working.) “I’m glad you’ve come to your senses and put a pause on it!”

“Actually,” Patton broke in. “I pulled him away for a break. He probably would’ve kept working if I hadn’t come in.” His tone was breezy, but there was a judgmental edge to it that indicated Patton had stronger opinions than he was voicing.

“I agreed with you that I needed a break,” Logan pointed out defensively. “I was actually thinking of getting some food when you came in.”

Patton hummed in an ‘if you say so’ sort of way.

“And, lemme guess—after breakfast you’ll go back to work?” Roman asked, shifting his weight.

“I—” Logan hadn't actually decided on whether he would or not.

“The answer here is ‘no,’ L,” Virgil said gently. “Don’t bother fighting it.”

Logan sighed. “Then I suppose I’m not going back to work after breakfast.”

“Good,” Roman declared, plopping down in his seat like that emphasized his point.

They ate, and there was a pause afterwards where Roman, Patton, and Virgil were all taking care of things and Logan was alone in the kitchen. He debated going back to his room—he’d said he wouldn’t, but he didn’t really know what else to do and no one was here to stop him—but Patton popped up and pushed him into the commons with a “Help set up!”

“Set up?”

“For the movie,” Virgil said, appearing beside Logan and hooking arms with him, pulling him along. “Roman’s getting blankets, so I need you to help me find The Aristocats before he can rig the vote.”

“Rig the vote? Roman?” Logan deadpanned. “Blatant slander and defamation; he would never.” Virgil snorted, and Logan wasn’t sure if the warmth he felt was from their proximity or… probably just the proximity.

“I know, right,” Virgil joked. “But this way, it’s two against one and so he can’t complain.” He dropped to his knees in front of the movie cases. Their arms were linked loosely enough that Logan could’ve chosen to slip out of his grip and remain standing, but he let himself kneel beside Virgil.

They flipped through the cases (and regrettably had to unlink arms to do so, but they were sitting close enough their thighs were pressed against each other, and Logan found he didn’t miss the contact too much), and pulled out The Aristocats right as Roman thundered down the stairs, laden with blankets and pillows.

“Careful!”

“Not to worry, Pat, I’m fine!” Roman declared, hopping past the last two steps and dumping his bounty on the couch. He squinted at Logan and Virgil. “Are you two conspiring? Going behind my back to rig the vote in your favor?”

“Because you’ve never done that,” Virgil snarked at the same time Logan said, “It’s Disney.”

“Disney?” Roman perked up.

“Aristocats,” Virgil told him. “Everybody wants to be a cat, y’know, and last I checked you’re part of everybody.”

“Oooh! We haven’t watched that in a while!”

“Nope.” Virgil popped the p sound. “And that’s why if you try to make us watch another movie first, I’ll steal all your Disney posters and make a collage out of them.”

Roman Gasped Offendedly™. “I didn’t even say anything! I want to watch Aristocats!”

“Just letting you know,” Virgil said.

Roman stuck his tongue out at him and began setting up a blanket fort. Logan went over to help him while Virgil popped the DVD into the player and left to help Patton manage snacks. They came back with a couple bowls of popcorn, several smaller bowls of candy, and a round of mugs. Everyone crawled in, got comfy, and made sure the snacks were within reach.

“Ready?” Virgil asked, prompting various noises of agreement, and then pressed play.

Roman and Logan had arranged the fort so that the couch was technically available for sitting on, but the blankets were low enough they’d be pushed up by one’s head. Virgil solved this problem by draping himself across the couch, head almost beside Logan’s and arm on top of Logan’s head, where Logan could easily hold up the popcorn bowl for him whenever he needed a new handful. (It was maybe slightly inconvenient, but Logan was maybe slightly touch starved, and this method meant Virgil’s arm stayed perched on Logan’s head.)

A few minutes into the movie, Roman shifted around and kicked his legs up to use Logan’s lap as a footstool. Logan retaliated by taking the Skittles from him and placing them on his other side, near Patton. Roman scrunched his face up at him and squirmed around so that his head was in Logan’s lap, and throughout the movie they continued until Roman was almost entirely settled on top of Logan, where he stayed.

About when Duchess met (Abraham DeLacey Giuseppe Casey) Thomas O’Malley, Patton scooched over a little and laid his head on Logan’s shoulder. It was careful, at first, the kind where one could tell the other wasn’t letting the full weight rest on them. But when Logan didn’t react except to put his head on top of Patton’s, he relaxed into it.

By the time the movie had ended, they were a pile of warmth and Logan was at the center of it.

Logan loved his famILY.

[oceanera12]

Linked Wilderness (Part 3)

Part 1

Part 2

Wild get’s the present of his sister. And then she gives him a present.

Alright! This is the last focus on Wild I SWEAR. You are not the only boy I need to make suffer.

It was a week since her brother and traveling buddies had left, when she got the letter. How she got said letter was a mystery in itself (mail had been a bit spotty since the Calamity), and she had no idea how it was coming through time but there it was!

The letter was short and sweet.

“Rhea, Wind told me that I need to start writing you. I told him I do not know if these will even find you, but the postman hasn’t failed us yet so here we go. Things have been pretty quiet with us. Killed a few moblins, but nothing too major. I hope you are well. Wild Link”

Rhea felt like jumping for joy. She hurriedly wrote a response.

...before realizing she had no idea how to mail it to him.

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

Wild was surprised when the postman arrived with two letters for him. One was from Flora. The other was Rhea’s. Wild opened it very carefully, Twilight on one side and Wind on the other.

“Dear Link, Normally, I would ask how a letter from you reached me here. But with everything I heard during your visit, I suppose it is not the craziest thing I have heard. Or seen. I am doing well, thank you for your concern. The neighbors brought me an apple pie yesterday. I shared it with Epona.”

Twilight scoffed. “You two spoil that horse.”

“And you don’t?”

“Just read, cub.”

“I found myself wandering outside the village the other day. Do not worry, I stayed away from Guardians and hid whenever monsters came by. I know how to take care of myself. It was quite peaceful. I see why you enjoy traveling. I am placing this note on my doorstep, along with a baked apple. However your letter arrived, I hope this one will find its way to you. Rhea.”

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

“Rhea, Twilight is very disappointed in you for sharing the pie. I cannot say the same because I would do the same thing. Wind wants me to ask about any embarrassing stories from my childhood. I would prefer to hear the not so embarrassing ones. Link.”

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

“Dear Link, To prevent Wind’s temper, I will share one of each. When you were five years old, you climbed a tree as high as you could. And then you were too afraid to climb down. Father would not help you down. He told you that you had to conquer your fears. You were stuck up there until the sun started to go down. And then you jumped out of the tree with a korok leaf. To this day, I still do not know how you did not die, or even break a bone. The first time you ever taught me to cook, you showed me how to make baked apple. I had difficulty with it and ended up burning most of the apples. By the end of our lesson we had one “good” apple. The rest were a dry, burned, lump. We ended up sharing the good one. I thought I would tell you that monster activity has started to go down the past week or so. Not enough for people to travel, but enough to notice. So whatever infection is spreading through the monsters, it does not seem to be here. Rhea.”

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

“Rhea, Your last letter earned me a scolding from both Time and Twilight about my reckless nature. Wind and Legend could not stop laughing for ten minutes. Wind would like more stories. I am resigned to whatever my fate is. I am happy to hear you do not have to deal with the infected. They are rather a pain. Link” P.S.- The postman will arrive soon so I do not have a lot of time. I finished this letter last night. In my dreams I remembered baking apples with you. You used to wear a bright pink dress, right? It had a white flower design.

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

“Dear Link, Yes, I did wear a pink dress with white flowers. I must admit, when I read you remembered something about me, I felt very happy. I know you cannot control what you can and cannot remember. But I cannot stop the hope of you remembering more. Call me selfish, but I want you to have a family you can remember. If not ours, then the current one you are in. I do not know if you remember Fenton, your old Knight friend. He was a year or so younger then you and wanted to be a knight in the service to the king. But he was born with one leg twisted so badly, it is impossible for him to walk long distances. You still taught him the best you could in swordplay and archery. The reason I bring him up is he just got married this past week. The girl is not from Hateno so no need to worry yourself on her. I went hunting and found a deer for their wedding feast (and also my present to the happy couple). Your sister, Rhea.”

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

“Dear Rhea, You must be wondering why I have not written in over a month. The answer is complicated. To keep it short, let’s just say I am having quite the adventure. My dreams have been a lot of memories lately. It took a bit, but I remembered Fenton... at least, I remembered a memory with Fenton. I remember teaching him archery and thinking he was quite good. If only the army had let him try, I am sure he could have made an excellent archery captain. Then again, it is probably for the best he missed the war. The likelihood of him surviving the Guardians would be very low and then we would not be talking about his wedding. I remembered something with you, a few nights back. You woke me up from my dreams because of a nightmare. I let you sleep with me so you knew that the monsters would not get you. It felt familiar. Did that happen a lot? Your brother, Link”

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

“Dear Link, Yes, I had many nightmares and you let me sleep with you when I was afraid. I am embarrassed to say that I still wake up afraid. I have the remains of an old cloak of yours and use it as a blanket, during those nights. It is falling apart now, but I cannot bear to throw it away. The monster’s are increasing again. I had to take out a few that came too close to the village. Fenton helped from a distance. He still in an excellent shot and one of the best archers in town (excluding me, of course). Your sister, Rhea”

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

“Rhea, I remembered mother last night. She was showing me how to make bread in the coals of a fire. She was also coughing a lot. Link. P.S.- I am sending you another one of my cloaks to replace the old one.”

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

“Dear Link, Mother died from an illness the doctors did not know how to treat. She was sick for the last year of her life, with the last few months being bedridden. She loved you very much and would be proud of you today. I know that I am. Thank you for the cloak. I will take it with me everywhere I go for the rest of my life. Love, Rhea.”

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

“Dear Rhea, This letter has a surprise for you on the next page. I hope you like it. Four, Warriors, and I almost burned down a forest yesterday. Time and Twilight were not happy. It helped me remember that time I almost burned down the house. Father and Mother were not pleased with me. Or you. You had something to do with it, didn’t you? Love, Link.”

“To Rhea, Sister of the Champion We never got to meet, to my deepest regrets. I am writing to thank you for your sacrifices to the kingdom of Hyrule. I am sorry that I was unable to stop the Calamity from claiming your brother and father from you. I am also sorry you will never get to see the land free from the Calamity. I am sending a picture I have of your brother from the Sheikah Slate. It is not much, but I pray that having an image of him will help you remember him for who he is. Link mentioned that he ran into you on his current adventure. It is fascinating that these portals not only travel between different worlds but also times. I wish I could study them, but alas, Link has forbade me from getting near them. Apologies, I got off track. Along with the photo, I am sending 500 rupees. Link is not happy with this gift, but I insisted upon it. Please use it for whatever you wish. Rhea... you did make a difference to Link. I am grateful for your help, past and future. I thank you for your devotion to the kingdom. At your service, Princess Zelda”

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

“Dear Link, Please thank the Princess for the letter, photo, and the rupees. I confess, I was actually in dire need of some. My bow is getting old and I know it is going to break soon. Weapons are not cheap in these times. And before you get any ideas, you are not sending me any of your bows. I already bought one from a traveling Rito. The remaining rupees I gave to Fenton and his wife. He confided to me that his wife is expecting. I am very excited for them. As for almost burning of the house down: I have no idea what you mean. I certainly had nothing to do with it. And nothing will get me to say otherwise. Link, I am leaving you something under the floorboards of the house. Consider it a final gift from your little sister. All my love, Rhea.”

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

“Dear Rhea, I do not know when I will be home in my time again, but I will be sure to stop by the house. I look forward to seeing your gift. I remembered something. I think it was the last day we spent with Mother and Father. We had a picnic outside. Father carried Mother to the blanket and we spent the day playing games and making food. When night came, we looked at the stars and we fell asleep hugging Mother. When we woke up, she was home in the sky. Love, Link”

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

Dear Rhea, It has been a week since my last letter and I am still waiting your response. But I thought I would share with you that I remembered the last time I saw you. Before the Calamity. I will not remind you of that day’s events. But I will tell you that I was very sad to leave you and Father. I hope Hylia will unite us again on the journey. If not, then I am grateful I was able to see you again. Love, Link”

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

Dear Rhea, It has been almost a month since your last letter. Is everything alright in Hateno? Last night, I made everyone Mother’s stew. I remembered the recipe... or at least most of it. Call it my version, I suppose. Wind would like me to ask you for more embarrassing stories. Please write soon. Love, Link

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

Rhea, I am getting worried. You still have not written back. It has been over a month now. Please let me know that you are okay. Link

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Dear Rhea, The postman has informed me that my letters have not moved from the porch of the house. He has returned them to me, with the promise that he is looking for where you are now. Rhea, I am scared. Please let me know you are okay. Your brother, Link.

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

The moment Wild’s slate began to ping, Wild pulled it out and quickly tapped a few things. “I’m teleporting to Hateno. Any objections?”

No one did. Time pointed at the nearby stable. “We’ll stay there for the night. If you are not back by morning, we will be coming after you.”

“Agreed.” Wild tapped a few more things before vanishing in a trail of blue ribbons.

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

The house looked exactly how he left it. Wild didn’t know why he expected any differently. It took him five tries to find the right floorboard under the stairs. A dried flower laid on top of a sealed envelope. The now familiar handwriting had scribbled, “To Link,” across the front.

Wild sat back right there on the floor and tore the seal off.

“Dear Link, If you are reading this, then I am not here. Truth is, I will not be coming back to this home. Most likely for the rest of my days, however long that may be. I have been thinking a lot about you. Ever since the Princess’s letter, my thoughts have been drawn to you. More specifically, where you are in my time. Right now.”

Wild stared at the page, his dread starting to grow.

“That is why, tomorrow morning, I am leaving Hateno.”

“No...” Wild gasped aloud. His grip tightened on the paper.

“Fenton and the others are more than capable of protecting this place. I am sure that the Shrine of Resurrection is guarded well, but I would feel much better if I was there as well. In a few days, I will be finding my way up the Great Plateau. Perhaps I will see the ghost of the King. Perhaps not. Either way, when you wake up in a hundred years, I will be near.”

Wild let out a broken sob. Tears began to fall onto the paper, blurring both his vision and ink.

“You protected me all of my life. Now it is time for me to protect you.”

’No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no,’ Wild shook his head, praying this was just a bad dream.

“Besides, you have to find an empty house when you wake up. Otherwise, you will not find this letter.”

“Rhea, please don’t...” Wild begged, despite the fact this had happened a hundred years in the past. Nothing he said could change it.

“You may never remember me. You may never remember our family. But always remember that I love you, big brother. That is something that I will never forget. All my love for all my life, Your little sister, Rhea.”

Wild flipped the page over, desperate for more. He searched the floor boards for another note that might have been left. Nothing.

He bent his head and wept.

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

Personally, I think Rhea survived on the plateau for at least five years. She probably got killed by the Lynel. And if you thought this would be a happy ending-- HA! Hylia was nice enough to let Link remember his family. She’s not kind enough to let him keep it.

And if you thought that was sad, just imagine Rhea wrapped in her brother’s cloak, clutching her broken weapon, and facing her death. Her last thoughts are to the comatose brother that she was hoping to see one last time. But she knew he would see her. And that was all that mattered to her.

Up next: Uh... Sky is the plan but Four is starting to scratch at my brain so we’ll just have to see.

[all-things-skam]

Jens’ season | Chapter ten (finale)

Saturday, March 7th

They arrived late in Utrecht. Or, early.

Lucas’ father had refused to make the drive but allowed him to go and take the train if he wanted to. Jens get that they were divorced, but still. She was his ex-wife, the mother of his child. She must still have a place in his heart.

Apparently not.

Lucas had been fidgety and tense during the whole train ride, biting his lip and checking his phone every ten seconds in case there were any updates from his dad - who was in contact with the clinic -, but there weren’t.

Jens felt helpless. He didn’t know what to do or even say, having never been in this situation before. A part of him wanted to comfort Lucas, tell him everything’s going to be okay, but he wasn’t a psychiatrist nor a doctor. He didn’t know shit.

So, he stayed quiet, his head pressed against the cold window of the train, his right hand holding onto Lucas’ tightly.

When they got to the train station, someone was there to pick them up. He had blond hair and a darker beard, and seemed older than them. An old friend, Lucas said. He dropped the two teenagers at the clinic and told Lucas to call him if he needed a ride before driving off.

The door of the clinic was unlocked despite being the middle of the night. They walked in and the lady at the front desk frowned, seeing Jens and Lucas walking into the building. ‘’Hello. How may I help you?’’

‘’My...my mom’s been admitted here a few hours ago,’’ Lucas replied, his voice strained. ‘’I’m here to see her.’’

‘’I’m sorry, visits have ended hours ago. You should come back in the morning-’’

Alas, Lucas wasn’t taking no for answer tonight. He was scared and worried for his mother and wouldn’t calm down until he sees her.

‘’No! I took a train all the way here. I have to see her,’’ he insisted, hoping the woman will make an exception for him. ‘’She needs me, I- Please.’’

Still hesitating, the desk lady glanced at them, noticing the tired look on their faces and the backpack on Lucas’ shoulder and sighed, giving in. ‘’Patient name?’’

‘’Lieke Van Der Heijden.’’

She typed in the name in her computer, giving Lucas an apologetic look when reading his mother’s file. ‘’I can’t let you go in the room past visiting hours. But, I’ll call up the psychiatrist on shift and he’ll be able to give you details about your mother.’’

You could see on Lucas’ face that he wasn’t completely satisfied with the bargain, but it was better than nothing.

Jens smiled at the woman. ‘’Thank you.’’

.

Jens didn’t go in.

He waited on a couch in the waiting area of the clinic while Lucas went to talk with the doctor, not wanting to intrude Mrs. Van Der Heijden’s privacy. While Lucas wanted him by his side at the clinic, it didn’t mean Jens had to be all up in their businesses. And, if Lucas needed him, he’ll come to him.

Having nothing else to do, Jens checked his phone, seeing the group chat blowing up with unread messages and a few personal ones from Robbe, asking what was going on and where the hell he and Lucas went.

Did you guy ditch us to fuck? Moyo had bluntly asked.

In another situation, Jens would’ve rolled his eyes and laughed - maybe he would’ve told him to fuck off -, but not tonight. Instead, he he simply told them that Lucas had a family emergency and had to go home - sparing them the whole details for privacy purpose.

Half an hour later, Lucas returned and filled the empty seat beside Jens. His hair was a mess from touching them so much - a habit he picked up when he was stressed or anxious. Jens slipped his phone back in his pocket, giving his attention to his boyfriend.

''How is she?''

''Sedated,'' Lucas responded, forgetting to laugh at his own bad joke. ''Sorry.''

Jens shook his head. ''It's okay.''

‘’A neighbor called the cops. They said she was acting like a lunatic, throwing out my father's last belongings on her porch since 6am and was planning to redecorate the whole house to 'clean it from his bad energy'. The doctor said it was a psychotic episode. She hasn't been taking her meds for a few weeks.’’

Lucas's parents' divorce was messy and heartbreaking. She truly loved Lucas' father - he was her high school lover -, but the man didn't want anything to do with her after being diagnosed although he had vowed to love her in sickness and health.

‘’I don't understand. She sounded very lucid last week on the phone. I should’ve gone home-’’

Shaking his head, Jens didn’t let him finish. ‘’Don’t do that. Don’t guilt yourself for something you can’t change. You’re here, now. It’s all that matters.’’

‘’If I had been here, I could’ve made sure she was taking her medication. I always do. Sometimes, she forget...and other times, she doesn’t want to take them. When she’s off her medication for too long, things gets bad and she has psychotic episodes. Dad and I tried to have someone from the clinic to come and check up on her, but it’s really expensive and we can’t afford that. That’s what he said. Maybe he doesn't want to pay for her, I don’t know.’’

It was simply an assumption, but Jens hoped it wasn't true. If so, Mr. Van der Heijden was a very shitty person.

Feeling a wave of tiredness hit him, Jens glanced at the clock in the waiting room and then to Lucas who's head was resting on his shoulder, trying to control his anxious riddled brain.

‘’It’s late. Should we head...home? You need sleep.’’

Lucas shook his head stubbornly. ‘’No. I need to stay here. I need to be there when my mom will wake up.’’

''The clinic had made an exception for a short visit and a conversation with the doctor. You'll have to wait till visiting hours to see her. We can't wait seven hours here.''

The night had been long and stressful and Jens couldn't wait to head to bed. He understood Lucas' want to stay at the clinic, but sleeping in those uncomfortable waiting chair would only make him feel sore and shitty in the morning. Lucas needed rest. Good rest.

‘’They gave her medication. She’ll be out for a couple more hours. We’ll come back in the morning.’’

‘’But-’’

‘’We can ask the office lady to call you when your mom is awake. How about that?’’

To Jens' relief, Lucas agreed.

.

It was almost 10am when the doorbell rang, stirring Jens from his deep, dreamless sleep. He groaned, the noise keeping going again and again - unable to ignore it. Who the hell could be at the door so early? He almost yelled at Lotte to go open, but remembered he was in Utrecht, at Lucas' house.

Fighting sleep, Jens opened his eyes - keeping them open was the real challenge here - and saw Lucas still fast asleep beside him. He smiled, soft snores coming from Lucas' slightly parted lips. It took Lucas over an hour to fall asleep this morning, constantly checking his phone every five minutes to see if he had any missed calls from the clinic. Jens had pulled him into his arms and played with his hair, knowing it worked as a kid when his mom would do it.

Now, the doorbell was getting on Jens' nerves and he wanted it to stop.

Carefully removing himself from Lucas' grasp, Jens got up and searched for his pants from yesterday, not about to answer the door in his boxers. He was barely awake enough to function as he walked down the hallway to get to the door, not caring that he was looking like a mess right now. That’s what a middle of the night bus ride and falling asleep at 4am does to you.

Before opening the door, Jens checked through the peephole and saw a short girl with curly hair and a boy with darker skin and messy hair whom he recognized as Isa and Kes.

A frown formed on Isa’s forehead when the door opened, confused why someone else was answering and not her friend. ‘’Who are you? Where’s Luc?’’

‘’Erm, I’m Jens. You’re Isa, right?’’

She nodded slowly, still a bit confused until she realized who Jens was. ‘’Oh my god! You’re Luc’ boyfriend aren't you?’’

Jens nodded, eyes squinting at the brightness outside. ‘’Does Luc knows you were coming? Did he tell you about-’’ He interrupted himself, uncertain if Isa and Kes knew about Mrs. Van der Heijden’s mental illness.

Isa hummed. '‘Yeah. I figured he’d be here in the morning.’’

Jens didn’t have to invite them in, the two walking right in and making themself home in the living room.

‘’Where’s Luc?’’ Kes asked, looking around for his best friend.

‘’He’s sleeping. The night has been long.’’

Kes hummed. ‘’How is he?’’

‘’Not good,’’ Jens honestly responded as he sat down in the armchair.

The trio didn't have time to engage in much of a conversation, footsteps coming from the hallway a few minutes after sitting down. They tried to be quiet to let Lucas sleep some more, but failed. Or, maybe it was the emptiness in the bad that woke him?

‘’What are you guys doing here?’’ Lucas asked, seeing his friends and boyfriend in the living room. He was wearing Jens' hoodie, finding the comfort he lacked of when he woke up to an empty bed.

Isa stood, meeting Lucas halfway and pulled him into a hug. He hugged her back before going to sit with Jens in the armchair, unbothered by his friends' presence.

Kes, on the other hand, wasn't as nice as Isa and looked at Lucas with hard eyes laced with deception. ‘’Why didn’t you tell me about your mom? I had to learn from Isa who heard it from Liv who was talking with Ralf. We’re best friends, Luc.’’

‘’Sorry you weren’t the first thing on my mind when my dad called me to say my mom was in a clinic.''

Kes sighed, changing his tone. ‘’You know I didn’t mean it like that...’’

‘’How is she?’’ Isa asked, switching the conversation.

‘’She’s in a clinic, Isa. How well can she be?’’ Lucas responded, his tone a little too harsh.

Unhappy with the way he spoke to his friend, Jens put han hand on Lucas’ thigh, a silent way to tell him to not get worked up. Even if Isa’s question was stupid to him, it wasn't a reason to talk to his friends like that. They came here because they cared about Lucas and his mom, not to get yelled at.

''Have you seen her?'' Kes asked, blaming Lucas' attitude on stress and morning grumpiness.

''No. Visiting hours were over long ago. I'll be going today.''

''Do you need us to come with?''

Although Kes' offer was nice, Lucas already had an emotional support. ''No. Jens is here.'' He leaned into Jens' chest and Jens kissed Lucas' shoulder over the hoodie, confirming his words.

‘’Tell your mom we say hi, okay?’’ Kes said.

‘’Will do.’’

.

Sunday, March 8th

The past two days had been difficult and emotional for Lucas - and Jens, by bias.

Lucas had spent hours at the clinic at his mom's bedside, just sitting there and watching her sleep most of the time, too high on meds to stay awake. Sometimes, she'd talk to him, but never for long. She was happy that her son was here, but also felt guilty that he had to come home just because she went off her meds again. Lucas denied her wrong assumptions and promised her that he had come here on his free will, that he wanted to be with her, but she still insisted that she was disrupting her son's life and being a burden to him like she was to his father. Lucas knew it was the depression and meds talking, but it still hurt.

When Lucas left his mother's room with tears in his eyes, Jens decided it was enough for the day. Taking care of someone didn't mean allowing them to disturb your own mental health. You need to know when to take some space from them, even if it's just for a few hours.

Back at Lucas', Jens made them dinner while Lucas took a shower. He was a terrible cook so pastas will have to do - not that there was a lot of options to cook with in the pantries and fridge. Ten minutes later, Lucas came out of his shower and Jens brought the bowls of pastas to the living room.

''Talk to me. I need a distraction.''

''Okay...'' Jens racked his brain, trying to think of something to talk about when he remembered that he hadn't told Lucas about the move yet. ''My parents are separating. My mom, sister and I will be moving.''

By the look on his boyfriend's face, Jens realized he should have added more details in the first place. Now, Lucas must be thinking he's moving from Antwerp. He was supposed to distract him, not make him sadder. Well done, Jens...

He shook his head, swallowing his bite of pasta. ''I'm not changing school, don't worry. We are just moving to a new neighborhood where the apartments are cheaper.''

Relief washed over Lucas' face. ''Hopefully closer to mine.'' He smirked and Jens hummed.

They lived relatively close to each other, but they could be closer. Living closer would mean easily meeting up in the middle of the night when one of them couldn't fall asleep instead of texting or take the bus together to school.

''That would be nice, wouldn't it?''

Lucas nodded before snickering. ''As if we don't see each other almost every day already.''

Jens laughed. ''Wanna watch a movie?''

The brunet shrugged. ''If you want.''

''Any preferences?''

''No, you can choose.''

''You trust my movie taste? Be careful what you wish for. We might end up watching the Notebook or some other chick flick shit.''

A small smile curved on Lucas' lips for the first time since Friday and Jens took it as a win.

''I know I must not be fun to be around right now and this probably isn't the weekend you had planned, but I...I’m just not in the mood to do anything. All I can think about it my mom and-’’

Jens shook his head, understanding. ‘’It’s okay. I don’t mind. I like chill nights too. As long as I’m with you.’’

Lucas wrinkled his face in disgust. ‘’Ew. Don’t say that. I’m gonna vomit.’’

‘’You don’t like cheesy?’’

‘’No. Jens?’’ He hummed in response, but didn’t budge. ’’You might think that you aren’t helping, but you are. By making sure I get enough sleep, eat and don’t get stuck in my head too much. You distract me with movies and cuddles - lots of cuddles. All of this helps me a lot, I couldn’t ask for a better boyfriend.’’

''Look who's the cheesy one, now!''

''Shut up. This was supposed to be cute, but you ruined it...''

.

Monday, March 9th

Goodbyes, even temporary ones, always hurt.

Jens’ arms were around Lucas, holding him tight, dreading the moment they’ll have to part. If it hadn't been for his mother’s request, Jens would’ve stayed longer, but Fenna wasn’t too happy to learn that her son had left the country without any warnings and skipped school. She understood the situation, sending well wishes to Lucas and his mom, but still wanted him to come home.

Lucas sighed, sad blue eyes looking at Jens. ‘’I don’t want you to go.’’

Give it to Jens and Lucas to make their departures dramatic and seem like they were parting for war when it was only a couple days. They had been standing at the train station for half an hour, clinging to each other and being one of those couples.

‘’I don’t want to either, but I can’t disobey my mom. She’s already mad that I left without warning. Lucky for me, she loves you or else I’d be grounded for weeks.’’

Lucas smiled before pushing his face in Jens’ shirt, not caring that he was behaving like a baby at the train station. ‘’I’ll miss you,’’ he said quietly.

‘’That’s why I gave you my hoodie. It’ll feel like I’m with you when you close your eyes,’’ Jens explained. He kissed Lucas’ temple, his face hidden from view.

‘’I still prefer the real thing...’’

‘’Me too,’’ Jens agreed. ‘’But, it’ll have to do for now.’’

A voice echoed through the station, warning travelers of the trains that will be leaving soon and, sadly for them, Jens’ train was in the list. Lucas recognized the number and clutched the back of his boyfriend’s shirt, refusing to let go.

''My train is here,'' Jens announced, trying remove Lucas's grip from him but also not wanting to part either.

.

Tuesday, March 10th

After dinner, Jens sat on the floor, surrounded by the mess of his bedroom. He was folding and packing clothes, getting ready for the move when a text from Lucas came in and distracted him, abandoning the pile of clothes.

Lucas: I don’t know when I’ll come back

Jens: That’s okay. Take your time. Your mom needs you. I’ll be here waiting ❤

Lucky for him, his mom was there to keep her children on track with the packing. They were moving the following Friday and the whole house had to be packed up. It was a small delay, but doable if everyone helped.

''Have you started packing yet?''

''Yes.''

Fenna looked around the room and raised an eyebrow, not seeing much progress since she last came here to check - which was two hours ago. ''Quit talking to Lucas and pack your bedroom, it won't pack itself. Even Lotte has started putting her toys in boxes.''

Jens frowned, raising his eyes from his phone. ''How do you know it's Lucas I'm talking to? Why not Robbe or Moyo?''

''Because you have that smile on your face when you talk to him. Others might not notice it, but I'm your mom. I see these things.''

A light blush coated his cheeks.

Jens: Gotta get back to packing...😞

Lucas: 🥺

Jens: We'll facetime tonight, okay?

Lucas: I'll wait for your call. Love you ❤

.

Friday, March 13th

A mix of laughters and shoutings filled Jens' bedroom as the four boys battled at video games. They were in the middle of a heated competition between Jens and Moyo when the doorbell went off, forcing them to pause the game.

Jens handed the controller to Robbe, being the only trustable person out of them, and went downstairs to answer the door. A confused frown and a wide grin shared space on Jens’ face, surprised to see his boyfriend on the other side.

''What the-''

''Missed me?'' Lucas asked, a small grin on his lips, interrupting Jens.

Jens' grin broadened and he pulled Lucas into a hug after getting him inside, shutting the door behind. Lucas returned the embrace, snaking his arms behind Jens' neck, missing the closeness of his boyfriend.

''What are you doing here? You couldn’t get away from me for long, uh?’’ Jens teased instead of pointing out Lucas’ tired look, the bags under his eyes looking darker than at the train station on Monday.

Lucas rolled his eyes. ‘’Yeah, I missed your pretty face too much.’’ He squished Jens’s cheeks with his hand, making him pull a fishy face, and laughing at how ridiculous he looked.

‘’I knew it, you can’t get enough of me.’’ Smug look on his face, Jens leaned in to kiss Lucas.

Sooner than usual, Jens’ tongue pushed past Lucas’ lips and Lucas slipped his hands under Jens’ shirt, feeling the warm skin under the grey cotton, catching a soft sigh of content from the taller boy.

They hadn’t had a lot of occasions to kiss more than a quick peck since last Friday and it felt good to share a longer kiss. The weekend had been emotionally difficult for Lucas and his head wasn’t in a mood to make out despite having the house to themselves all weekend.

For a moment, the two boys almost forgot that they were standing in Jens’ entry.

Lucas pulled away, but kept his hands on Jens. ‘’I’m only here for the night, I’m going back tomorrow morning. I came to pick up a few things from my dad’s...and see you.’’

Jens hummed and leaned to kiss Lucas again when loud arguing was heard from upstairs, catching Lucas' attention and making him frown.

''You're having people over?’’ he questioned, feeling bad for taking Jens away from his guests. ‘’I can come back later if-''

Jens shrugged. ''It’s just the boys. We were playing video games. Come.’’

Lucas toed off his shoes and let Jens pull him upstairs.

As they got closer to Jens’ bedroom Lucas’ stomach knotted, worried Jens’ friend will ask questions after the way he left last week at the party. He never gave them an explanation and he was hoping Jens hadn’t told them what happened to his mom. He might be okay to share this personal information with Jens and his own close friends like Kes, Isa and Ralph, but he didn’t want everyone to know.

‘’Now we know why he was taking so long to come back,’’ Aaron pointed out when he saw Lucas behind Jens.

Jens flipped him off and went to the empty spot on his bed, pulling Lucas onto his lap, taking advantage of having limited seating space in his cardboard boxes filled bedroom.

Robbe handed Jens back the controller, ready to get back to the game.

''How are you gonna play with Lucas sitting on you like that? You can hardly see,'' Aaron pointed out.

Jens smirked, feeling confident. ''Don't worry, I can still beat your ass.''

[blackrose343]

Unforgettable Night - NSFW

This fanfic is for 18+

Warnings: Sex

Kuroshitsuji / Black Butler - Sebastian x Female Reader

Fanfic Summary: For a long time Arthur Wordsmith could never forget his time at the Phantomhive manor. As his friend you tried to comfort him yet he would never reveal what happened. Every time you would mention it, Arthur would automatically become frightened. A new professor arrives to the school you both teach at. Your acquaintance with the new professor makes Arthur uneasy. Yet you can’t help yourself from indulging in your desire.

4,129 words

Still binge watching Kuroshitsuji and decided to revisit this fanfic too.

It was just past nightfall. Drizzles of rain were starting to come down, becoming liquefied tears. Lightning was hitting the ground with a mighty fist. Thunder could be heard from all over. There were stacks of papers to grade, a medium sized candle, and a cup of Earl Grey on my desk. Professor Wordsmith, my colleague, was seated at the desk waiting for me to bring some snacks. He seemed to be more tense and worried than usual tonight. I admit, I knew him for quite some time, but I could not tell what was bothering him right now or any other time there was a thunderstorm.

He has been like this ever since he came back from a party held by Earl Phantomhive. I have asked him multiple times to tell me what had happened, but he always starts to shake with tremendous fear and becomes as pale as a ghost. I would advise him to go to a psychologist, but I - along with the majority of the people - am extremely skeptical about them. 

I set the tray of food down on the table and looked into Wordsmith’s eyes through the candle’s flame. He gives me a small and innocent smile, trying to hide the fear radiating off of him. I wanted to put the poor man’s head in my bosom and rock him back and forth like a child, but refrained from doing so. “Arthur, you need to let this go. It has been years since that night has happened.”

“I wish I could, but that night is stuck in my memory. It is as if that entire time at the Phantomhive manor happened yesterday. I can never forget that night. Never.”

“Please, drink some tea. It will calm your nerves.” His hands shook as he took a sip of his tea. I took a bite of one of the cookies I set down. Its crumbs got on my dress, but I paid no heed to them. I wanted to calm Arthur down as much as possible before we went home for the night. “I wish you could forget about that night. Your wife is very worried about you. It may not be long till your daughter notices. You did say that she saw you burn a stack of papers, which I am assuming was about that night.”

“Let’s change the subject. Just saying ‘that night’ is starting to get me scared.”

“Do forgive me. I did not think it would. What a horrible thing I have done to you, my good friend.”

“Do not fret over it. You do not completely understand how it has affected me.’

“But, if it wasn't for that event, you would have never gotten an idea or inspiration for that story you wrote.”

“I know, but please.”

“Of course, I understand. Oh, did you hear of the new professor that is going to start working here tomorrow?”

“No, I did not. Have you?”

“Yes, some of the women said they were able to get a glimpse of him when he filled out an application to work here.” As I explained to Arthur what the other faculty members said about the new professor, his face paled. It was as if a vampire was sucking all of his blood from thin air. He quickly got out of his chair and ran through the door. “Arthur!”

I grabbed the candle and followed him. I did not think Arthur was the athletic type. He was running away from here as if a ghost was haunting him. He went around the corner towards the exit. As I turned the corner, I slipped. I had to claw my nails into the wall to prevent myself from getting caught on fire. Once I got my footing right, I stood up and saw that Arthur was gone. I quickly went back to my office and called his household. I told his wife what happened and to call me if he came home safe.

Today, I awoke to such a wonderful morning. Everything about it was perfect. Bright and warm sun, chirping birds, everything that Spring stood for in a nutshell. I thought it was a shame to waste, so I decided to have my class outside and have my students write about what they thought Spring meant to them.

I was on my way to my classroom when I caught Arthur from the corner of my eye. I went over to him and greeted him a good morning. He did the same and apologized for his actions from last night. I told him not to worry about it. He calmed down when I told him my plans for the day. Arthur thought it was a marvelous idea.

We started to talk about how his wife reacted to his actions and what he did to calm himself down when he returned home. He then told me how his daughter asked him to tell her a story to help her fall asleep. Arthur said that he made her pray to God before he told her a story. Honestly, I think it is stupid that people waste their time doing that, but I will not judge him for it. “Speaking of which, why are you wearing a pin of a cross? This is a public school.”

“To calm my nerves.” He gave a nervous laugh while he rubbed the back of his head. I wanted to tell him wearing a pin would not do anything, but I will accept anything that makes him feel safe. I also wanted to ask him why now of times he would wear it, but the bell rang. I was about to say goodbye to Arthur, but he beat me to it and sprinted away. I was bewildered, but turned around.

My face crashed into someone’s chest. Instinct made me take a quick step back. A strong, lean arm wrapped itself around my waist helping me regain my balance. I looked up to be met by a pair of crimson eyes behind a pair of glasses. Slightly messy raven black hair was framing the man’s pale face. It was the most handsome face I had ever seen. I can see why the women were awestruck when they saw him. “F-forgive me. I was not paying attention to my surroundings.”

“The fault is all mine madame. It was so rude of me to run into a beautiful woman such as yourself.” I had the feeling he was only saying that because he was trying to falter me, but I was faltered. I could feel a rosy blush run across my cheeks. Everything about this man was getting me hot. I felt like I was going to melt. This man was every woman's dream. He was handsome, intelligent, polite, and strong. I want to know what type of man he is in bed.

“Forgive me for I must get to my class.” I quickly left him like a school girl running away from her crush. I never knew I could feel like that again. The first time I felt like this was when I first met Arthur in high school.

Once I arrived to class, I apologized to my students for making them wait for me. We went through with my plans from earlier and they were successful. I also found out about the new student in my class, Ciel Phantomhive. I was shocked that his father would make him go to a school like this. It wasn't particularly bad per say, but usually the children of high social status would have private tutors come to their home.

The rest of the day was nice. Arthur seemed to have calmed down a bit and I got the majority of my papers graded. I finished most of what needed to be done, but alas, I could not get Professor Michaelis out of my head. Damn, that man is such a charmer.

As the next couple weeks passed by, I became more acquainted with Professor Michaelis. I noticed Arthur started to drift away from me and barely said a word when we had lunch together. It was making me become depressed. I want to be friends with Michaelis, but I do not want to lose Arthur in the process of it.

I was in my office grading timed essays from today when Arthur came in. He seemed a bit paranoid. He locked the door and came to my desk. His eyes went directly to mine, penetrating through the candle and locking my eyes with his. It had been a long time since I have seen Arthur like this. I had a feeling it was about my acquaintance with Sebastian. I was correct.

Arthur tried to convince me to stop trying to be friends with Sebastian, but I refused to do so. He did not explain to me why I should stay away from him. I gave him reasons to keep trying to convince me otherwise. I was so caught up with supporting my choice that I did not notice Arthur getting furious. He slammed his hands down on my desk, making everything shake momentarily. Shock took over, making me stop in the middle of my sentence. His hands were curled into fists. His teeth were clenched together.

He took a couple deep breaths and then put a stack of journals on my desk. I looked at him, bemused. I did not know what to do with these, but he would not answer. I gingerly picked up the book at the top of the stack. I quickly skimmed it and then read it meticulously. My eyes widened. These journals contained the story of that night at the Phantomhive’s party. I understood what was happening. Not only was Arthur finally allowing me to know what happened, but the books also had the reason why I should stay away from Sebastian.

Days passed as I read his story. I got so absorbed in it that Arthur offered to grade all of my papers until I finished reading them. Sebastian seemed to notice and only spoke to me for a few moments. Arthur really did remember everything as if it happened yesterday. Everything was so detailed: the dresses, rooms, even the food. I understood why Arthur did not want to see another body, but I did not understand why he was afraid of Sebastian.

I was in my office, finishing the last part of the book while organizing my office. This certain part was making chills go up my spine. I started to forget that this was what Arthur experienced. All of it was merging into a fantasy novel. I stopped reading it to give myself a break and to remind myself that this was real, not fantasy.

I started to boil some water and grade some papers Arthur left for me. I sat down at my desk and took a deep breath. I did not want to grade papers, but I knew I had to since I had to give them back and go over them tomorrow. Grading papers made me realize how much I missed over the past few days. I started to remember conversations I had with the other professors. Some of the women always talked about Sebastian and how they envied me. Some faculty members talked about how brilliant Ciel was. I was looking over Ciel’s essay when I remembered that conversation. “Damn, he is brilliant. The others weren’t lying. Well, his was the last essay to grade. Now I can finish that book.”

I took a sip of my tea as I reached across the desk to get the book. My middle finger pushed it off the desk, but did not hit the floor. I looked in the direction the book fell and saw someone getting up. The candlelight didn’t give off enough light to reveal the black silhouette in front of me. However, the candle’s light was able to reveal the silhouette was reading Arthur’s story. “Excuse me, but that is private. Please give it to me.”

“I’ve been wondering what you’ve been reading for the past few days, but I did not think it was this.” The silhouette turned towards me, letting the candle’s light reveal who it was. I knew it was Sebastian since I could never forget those eyes. He was looking down at me with the book in the air, a smirk on his face. I started to get a good idea of why Arthur wanted me to stay away from him even though I did not get to the real reason yet. “You are about to get to the greatest part. Though, I am shocked that Mr. Wordsmith would allow you to know this was all real.”

“As you probably know Mr. Michaelis, Arthur and I have been friends for a long time.” A thunderstorm started, making me feel how Arthur does every time one occurs. Fear started to creep up my body, but I was not going to allow Sebastian to see it. Sebastian smirked and started to read where I have left off. The room became eerie and cold. Goosebumps were appearing on my arms. Sebastian was taking his time walking to me. A dark aura (which Arthur described as an ill feeling) started to surround me. I looked all around me and saw that I had no escape.

“Do you want to know why Mr. Wordsmith fears me?” It was difficult to see yet I saw Sebastian change. Not his clothes but his appearance. His eyes glowed red with a slight pink hue. Claws formed. It was obvious Sebastian was not human. My instincts told me to try and run, but I knew it would be of no use. I also did not want to leave. I seemed to feel more at home around his aura for some peculiar reason. I wanted to reach over to him and pull him towards me. I wanted our lips to connect. I wanted his aura to engulf me. I wanted this man to drown me in pleasure. Sebastian’s smirk grew as he noticed what I was starting to crave.

He was in front of me. My heart was pounding so fast, so hard. I thought it was going to explode. My forehead was forming droplets of sweat. My lips were parted, waiting for either myself to say something or for Sebastian to claim them. He bent down to my level, letting one of his claws lightly caress my face. He was watching my every move, every expression, everything about me.

He had his thumb on my lower lip, slowly sliding and pressing it. His claw left a shallow cut on it. My saliva dripped on it, making it sting. It did not hurt, but made me give him a low moan. My breaths got shallower with each passing minute. He lightly blew on the cut, hearing me sigh in pleasure. He wrapped his arm around my waist again, just like the first time we met. He pressed my lip some more, forcing blood to come out of the cut. He was going to place his lips on mine, but changed his mind at the last second. He stuck his tongue out and started to lick the blood coming out of my lip. I took a sharp breath and moaned. I could feel my breasts hitting Sebastian’s chest.

He stopped licking my cut and brought his mouth to my ear. He softly whispered that he did not have to be as scary as Arthur described him. I knew that he was telling the truth. I knew that this was going to be a one time thing. I allowed him to do as he pleased. I knew this was his way of making me not tell anyone his secret. Right now, I did not care about anything except the pleasure Sebastian was going to give me. I wanted it and would do anything to have it.

Sebastian sucked on my wound and then claimed my mouth. I wished that he did not force my arms to stay at my sides. Oh, how much I wanted to wrap my arms around his neck and deepen our kiss! Our tongues fought for dominance, but he quickly took it. I could feel saliva going down my jaw and onto my neck. I could feel my breast coming out of my dress.

His grip loosened as his lips left mine. A pout formed on my face. He chuckled and licked away my line of saliva. His warm tongue traveled from the base of my neck to the corner of my mouth. I turned my head towards his tongue, wanting it to claim my mouth again. Sadly, Sebastian pulled his head away and offered me his hand. I looked at it questioningly. I did not understand why I would have to get up. “I think your tea would have been better if it has some ‘milk.’“

Sebastian was showing me the sexiest, most erotic smirk I had ever seen. Butterflies started to flutter in my stomach. The darkest blush was forming on my cheeks. I had never been talked to so inappropriately. I knew I should have been appalled, but I was one of the rare ones that liked that type of stuff. He seated himself in the chair with his legs spread apart. He was waiting for me to make my move. I gave him a sweet and innocent smile then got down on my knees. I placed one hand on his thigh and the other on his hardened member. I started to gently rub it, earning a slight grunt from him. I then undid his fly and let his member come out. My blush deepened, for it was huge. I had to admit, his cock was the greatest I had ever seen, for I did not see that many in my lifetime. Everything about it was perfect: its condition, size, thickness, the tip, everything. I started to do exactly as he did to my lips - I licked the tip of his member. I could sense that he was becoming annoyed with me, but I did not care.

I took the tip into my mouth and swirled my tongue around it. I closed my eyes as I started to bob my head back and forth. I varied my rhythm. I could feel him pulsing inside of my mouth, ready to come. He pushed his member into my mouth, partially going down my throat. His claws punctured my head, but I did not notice. He took his member out of my mouth. I was able to taste some of his seed as it sprayed my chest. 

I leaned my head on his leg and gave out a sigh of satisfaction. I was looking up at him, waiting for his next command. He raised his hand and motioned for me to come to him by swinging his index finger back and forth. I quickly got up and Sebastian ripped my dress off. I was standing in front of him with my corset and panties. My breasts were completely exposed to him. I wrapped my arms around my waist and looked down. He pulled me towards him. One of his hands was swirling around my breast. He then pulled on it hard. I let out a scream mixed with pleasure and pain.

He set me down on his lap. My knees were right next to his buttocks. I lowered my hips so they were above his member. He started to play with both my breasts. He sucked on one and pinched the other. I couldn’t stop my loud moans from escaping. The pleasure from my breasts and precious spot were killing me. His member was rubbing against my “lips”. I wanted him to penetrate me and rip my underwear apart. I couldn’t hold myself back any longer and came. “Se-Sebastian!”

After I regained enough stamina, he made me squat above his lap. He told me not to move and tore my panties off. Slowly, I lowered myself onto him. I whimpered as I got closer to the base of his cock, but sighed when he was completely inside of me. I felt as if I was going to come again and it felt so good. I held onto his shoulders and started to move.

It was very clear to Sebastian that I had never had sex in this position. He held onto my waist and started to guide me. When I got the hang of it, he loosened his grip and resumed to playing with my breasts. My moans started to fill the room. I could hear some of Sebastian’s grunts in the background.

I had one hand on his shoulder; my other one was getting my hair out of my face. My head was leaning back. My breasts were jumping up and down while Sebastian played with my nipples. I could feel my climax coming again and picked up the pace. I was so close to coming again, but Sebastian stopped me. I looked at him with dismay on my face and pleading eyes. Again, he smirked at me while he laid me down on my desk.

I was flat on my back with my hands pinned behind my head and my legs spread apart. I quickly covered my opening and started to rub my insides together to reach my orgasm. I was panting, looking up at my tormentor. He brushed his fingers down my sides. It sent chills up my spine. I loved and hated the anticipation.

He continued this torture to the rest of my body until he sensed I was reaching my orgasm. He quickly put his hands between my legs and forced them apart. A little mewl escaped my lips. He stopped what he was doing and forced himself inside me. The top half of my body lifted itself up while my head was forced back. He was pounding into me so hard that I thought he was going to break me. I couldn’t stop mewling and moaning in pleasure. Something told me that he loved that sound. I wanted to do anything he liked so he could pleasure me.

My legs were wrapped around him. My feet were clinging to his pants. My wrists were fighting for freedom. My body was sliding up and down my desk. My mind became hazy. I could hear things falling off of my desk: papers, books, pens. I could feel our sweat mingling, the fire he sent through my mouth and body, and his claws that were cutting me. I could also feel my orgasm coming.

My moans became louder and sighs were escaping my lips. He actually let me come this time, but he was not done. He was still pounding into me. I could not stop my juices from flowing freely from me. Tears were forming in my eyes. I felt something playing with my clitoris for the first time. It felt wonderful and made me come again. Sebastian entered into me once more and released his warm seed inside.

Before his orgasm finished, he took his member out of me and let his seed cover me from head to toe. My body couldn’t stop shaking. My lungs were trying to gather as much air as possible. Sebastian unwrapped my legs from his and let them dangle off of the desk. I felt like a whore, but I guess I was one for tonight.

As Sebastian tidied himself up, I lifted myself on my elbows and watched him. There was neither a wrinkle nor a crease on him. He looked impeccable. It’s impressive how he can always look like this even when having sex. It was more impressive that his clothes were not dirty. Everything about this man was impressive.

After he left, I quickly ran to the school’s showers and cleaned myself. The next day we both acted as if nothing happened. Though I admit, I could not help but blush when he passed by me. Arthur is still worried about me hanging around Sebastian, no matter how many times I reassured him that he would not harm me.

When I got to class, I gave my students a free day. Some of their papers were covered in come or destroyed. It was a good thing I recorded the grades in my grade book. Sebastian came in and asked if he could speak with me. I gladly agreed to do so. Ciel looked at him, annoyed. I blushed, knowing that he knew what happened last night. Sebastian pulled me out of the room and told me to ignore him. He lowered his head and kissed me. I gave in immediately. I would do anything to have him again.