#turns out when you spend two months working on a singular thing

[syrupsyche]

If you're looking for a fic that has:

Marisette being a BAMF gothic couple

(short-lived) vampire!Enjolras and an angsty exR ending

Seward!Combeferre and Van Helsing!Prouvaire

the Power of Friendship

then you might enjoy my Dracula x Les Mis fic!! It's a gift fic for @/feathraly for the Discorinthe anniversary exchange and I had a ton of fun writing it, so do take a look if you think you'll have fun reading it too :D

[heartpiratedrabbles]

Emotions

Prompt: You leave an argument only to be Shambles back into a tense situation

NSFW

Trafalgar Law X Fem Reader

“Not now.” Law gripes out, gripping Kikoku as he brushes past you. It had been a long day trying to gather information, tracking down pirates to get their hearts. It was a big plan and it was taking longer than he’d like. When he came into his room, he hadn’t been expecting to see you there, arms crossed with a scowl on your face.

         “Then when Law? When will you have time to even talk?” Your voice rang through the room of the submarine as you follow him deeper into the room. He promised you 2 hours. 2 Hours that had come and went without so much of a word from him. You had been waiting in his office for most of the day before migrating to where you knew he’d end up so late at night, even Bepo had come to check if you were alright.

         You were beyond frustrated at this point, you hadn’t even been the one to suggest the 2 hours, it was Law’s idea after he himself realized how long it had been since the two of you had been alone. You weren’t even fully expecting him to stop his work entirely, whenever he was on the ship he’d be looking over maintenance or other work that had piled up, and you thought maybe he’d just let you be with him while he shuffled through it all. It was certainly better than the past couple of months where he’d banned anyone from bothering him unless it was important.

         Fixing up Straw-hat had really shook him, and while he tried not to show it, you knew he was throwing himself into being busy non-stop to not think. Keeping everyone at an arm’s length, even kicking you out of the bedroom the two of you had shared for so long.

         He made it clear he wasn’t breaking up with you, but honestly at this point you had little faith in anything, he couldn’t even keep his promise to spend some time with you, the promise he made of his own accord.     

         “Just leave me alone.” His short and curt words were getting on your nerves. You wanted to be understanding, he had a lot on his plate, but you can count the times you had talked to him over the past month on a singular hand, and that was including this awful interaction. He set his beloved sword down, leaning it against the wall by his bed while he shrugged off his coat. “We can talk tomorrow,” He glances at you with a furrow in his brow, hands gesturing you up and down, “About whatever it is,” He grumbled some more unintelligible words out at the end but all you could hear was ringing in your ears.

         Your chest heavy as you tried to take a shaky breath in while turning away from your captain. You didn’t see his head perk up in concern at the noise of your breathing, nor did you see him notice the tears springing up at the corner of your eyes. “Fine. I’m going out tonight.” You tried to sound confident, not wanting to show him a weak side, but your voice came out wavering and weak.

         “What? It’s already midnight. The only thing open are pubs.” His voice was a little harsh as you started making your way back to his door. You didn’t drink often, but your throat was beyond dry, and the banging in your head from heavy emotions was getting on your nerves. You didn’t even bother to respond to Law as you reached for the door. “You’re staying here tonight. That’s an order Y/N.” Law stood up, annoyed and angry, not understanding why you were acting this way. It was out of the norm for you, and Law couldn’t handle anything not normal right now.

         You heard his words, a tear escaping as you felt something boil up inside you into a weird calm compared to how cold and alone you felt moments prior. “Then think of a punishment for when I get back,” Your tone low and even as you stepped out into the hallway, making your way to the deck.

         Law watched as his door shut, there wasn’t a slam nor was it left open. It was eerily normal how you had closed the door and it sent a shiver down his spine. First you yell at him the second he gets back, nearly crying and telling him you’re going out drinking and now this? He couldn’t make sense of the sudden mood changes but it unnerved him, getting on his nerves easily. You had openly ignored his orders, you knew how cruel his punishments could be, cleaning the bathrooms by yourself for a month, only using a rag to clean the entirety of the deck, even re-organizing all the medicine before having to do it again in another ludicrous way.

         Law stood there in the middle of his room, frozen as his mind raced. His own chest tugged at him and felt tight as he thought about you going off to drink somewhere. By yourself at that, everyone else had either found a pub already or were asleep, maybe you’d find some crewmates? He felt a lump in his throat form as time was ticking, he couldn’t place the emotion he was feeling and it angered him more than anything else.

         Your throat felt tight, but seemed to loosen with the cool night air as you walked closer to the edge of the ship. You could see some tavern lights on from where you had docked and gripped the railing as you stepped onto the gangway placed for convenience. But just as you were going to continue you felt a familiar breeze rip through the air, before you could even blink you were shoved against a wall in the room you had just left a couple of minutes prior.

         “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” The angered voice gritted through teeth as a forearm shoved your chest further into the wall, another hand gripping your hip.

         You blink for a second to get your surroundings before your own anger unravels, “Trying to go out for once. Captain.” The venom hitting Law as you hardened your glare up at the taller man. His face becoming tight at your wording, the only time you’d call him captain was in front of others, it was his own demand at the beginning of the relationship, but behind closed door you never uttered the title.

         You watched as his eyes raced over your face, emotions slowly changing at the recognition of what you had said. You didn’t move, didn’t try to get away, you just stood and stared back up at him with an unmoving face. His fingers digging deeper into your hip before he bared his teeth, “Disrespecting my order.” It was the only thing Law could muster out, not wanting to point out the hurt he felt, “What were you expecting?”

         You attempt to suck in a deep breath, calming your mind before responding, “Didn’t realize I was trapped on this vessel Sir.” Your eyes never moving away from his, ignoring how the arm just over your chest was starting to restrict your breathing slightly. “Thought a couple of drinks and some fresh air might be nice considering how long I’ve been aboard.” The lump in your throat forming again as you try to even your voice out again.

         The hard line you were attempting to draw between Law and You was getting on his nerves, he’d barely heard your second sentence, too focused on you refusing to call his name like normal. He peers down at you, your hardened face-tinged red from anger. The tension in the air thick enough to cut. Law feels a growl erupt from his throat as he grips your face, tilting your head up before forcefully taking your lips.

         You feel the grip on your hip tighten again as you’re taken aback by the sudden motion, gasping before feeling his tongue snake into your mouth. Your mind heavy with anger, but head swimming from the kiss. You attempt to fight the urge to kiss back but give up, instead wrapping an arm around Law’s neck forcing him closer as you fight his tongue with your own. Your other hand pulling at his hair harshly while you attempt to explore his mouth.

         The hand on your hip loosening just enough to venture around you, gripping your thigh as you instinctually jump up, pressing your chests together, his other hand supporting your back as he walks towards the bed. The attempt to throw you down fails when your legs tighten around him, refusing to relinquish his lips or hair from your grasp. You feel a huff from him as he throws the both of you onto the mattress, teeth hitting each other as you tighten you grip on his hair.

         A couple of tears escape your eyes, and you aren’t sure whether it’s from lack of air, or your emotions. Law takes the initiative to pull back from the kiss, a harsh bite to your lip as he pulls away, eyes opening to see him staring at you still. He narrows his eyes at you, “What did you call me?” The hushed breathing and low tone of his voice giving you whiplash on what you’re feeling.

         The anger of wanting to knock him upside the head and walk away while the pleasure of staying and filling every desire in your mind, “What?” You snapped out, barely hearing him talk. Your arms are loosely hanging around him, your hand stinging from how tight your grip was on his hair earlier, before he repeats his words slowly, a leg hiking higher up to nestle itself against your crotch. Eyes tearing into your soul as you actually comprehend his words. You scoff a bit, fighting your body from grinding down for some wanted pressure, “Captain, Sir. That’s what I called you.”

         His eyes turn dark and an unpleasant scowl appears on his face a hand quickly wrapping around your neck as he veers closer to you. “Y/N.” He growls out staring a hole through your head, “Say my name.” It finally ticks in your head what’s going on and you can’t help but to feel a little better getting him angry.

         Tightening you arms around him to bring him in for a subtle kiss, glancing down at his lips before looking back into his eyes, “That would be disrespectful… Captain.” The hold on your throat tightens a bit before he bites at your lips, trailing down you jaw as he draws closer to your ear.

         “Disrespectful...” He tch, leaning back to stare down at you, taking in the sight as your hands falls back around your head. A euphoric feeling washing over you as the pressure around your neck increases. Your eyelids hooding over while your mouth falls open slightly, your fingers hooking around the blanket underneath you. The small gasps escaping you while your head becomes light and heavy at the same time. The snarl on Law’s face transforms into a smirk, “I see how it is.” His voice still low as he releases his hold on you, watching you squirm slightly to catch your breath, “You’re enjoying this.” He gestures slightly, his knee rubbing against you again before he unzips your jumpsuit.

         The heavy gasps as your brain starts to think again, your body tingling as his hands brush against your now exposed skin, stripping the suit off your arms, “Cap-tain~” The smallest whimper coming out before he snaps his head back up to you.

         “Still with that?” He leans down clearly annoyed at your insistence, peppering kisses against your stomach leading down. Your hands go to cover your breasts, while you hush yourself from any noises you were letting out subconsciously. Your hips rotating as the rest of your clothes are taken off leaving you bare.

         Your knees and thighs coming together in the little amount of time Law is no longer between your legs. “That is your title after all,” The hush tones leaving your mouth as you see Law glare at you. His hands running up your legs, brushing against your sensitive areas, glancing up to see you hold back.

         “Is that how you’re playing?” He growls towards you, the touches making your body shiver as you attempt to keep eye contact with the one towering above you. You nod slightly, and just as you’re about to say it again he grips your wrists pinning them above your head as he slams his lips against yours again, biting enough that you taste blood.

         You groan into the kiss, pushing into the feeling while he slips a leg between yours, hooking one of your own around his hips.  A quick pull of your leg catches him off guard as he falls on top of you, just enough that you can feel the tent in his own pants.

         “Y/N.” He breathes out, his eyes begging you to call for him. When he realizes you won’t stop this game of calling him captain, he rips away from you. You let a frustrated moan escape you before quieting down, not wanting to give Law a sense of control here. “If I’m your captain even here,” His words drawl out, his back turned towards you while he walks towards a chair in the corner of the room, “Then you can come and please me yourself.” He sits down, unbuttoning his shirt before leaning back and staring at you from his spot.

         You lean on your elbows, staring at the man in front of you with anger boiling in you again. “Excuse me?” You bark out, not believing the sight in front of you. Law glances up and down, a smile playing on his lips as he sees your anger rise.

         “Well? Your Captain told you to please him.” His taunts making you all the angrier. He shifts his legs, leaning his head against a hand while watching to see what your next move will be, “Are you refusing an order Y/N?”

         You grit your teeth. This isn’t what you wanted, you wanted him to get angry enough to ravish you into oblivion. The satisfaction of annoying him enough to play into your hand feeling greater than the anger you felt earlier in the day.

         He taps his fingers on the arm rest while he stares at you. He’d never been comfortable with exerting power between the two of you while alone. Yet here he is, pushing your buttons as you bite your own bruised lip, thinking of your next move. “Well?” His singular word rang through the air, pissing you off even more.

         Sitting up, shooting a glare at him. Your swollen lip between your teeth throbbing before you let out an anguish sigh. Law lets a chuckle out as he watches you make your way to him, straddling his legs while wrapping your arms around his neck. Kissing his neck gently while rotating your hips.

         Law stares down, watching the movements your body is making, holding a curse as you push his shirt off his shoulders, dusting kisses over the skin of his chest before coming back up. Raising your hips so your breasts are right in his face, you can hear him take a breath in.

         His hands go to the back of your thighs, pulling you closer as he takes a nipple in hi mouth. Your hands run over his scalp. His hands going inward, spreading you apart as a finger traces your entrance. You feel the bastard grin into your breast as he quickly shoves two fingers in, your hands going to his shoulders to stabilize yourself, the tug of skin between his teeth when you arch your back slightly.

         He releases your nipple, now sensitive and cold in the air before glancing up at you, “Already so wet for your captain.” He curls his finger inside you, hitting a spot that made a moan escape you. You attempt to sit back down, but his hands hold you up, fingers sinking deeper into you at your movement. He takes your neglected nipple into his mouth, sucking and flicking the bud until it’s hard.

         “L-Law,” You let out, body shaking slightly.

         He scoffs looking up at you again, “Now you want to play nice?” He stands up abruptly, you wrap you arms around his head, expecting to fall but instead smother him in your tits while his grip on you keeps you up. His fingers still pumping inside before feeling the mattress once again.

         You bounce slightly while you look towards Law who has a dark look in his eyes, “What happened to calling me Captain?” You watch as he unbuckles his belt, whipping his dick out while he stares down at you. You don’t respond as he grabs your legs, pulling you to the edge of the bed, lifting one of your legs to rest on his shoulder.

         You let a whimper escape when you feel him rub his tip against your clit, “I’m not going easy on you.” His warning tone hits you as he leans forward, the stretch of your leg as he gets close to your ear, “Think of it as your punishment for leaving.”        

         Your own mind to shrouded in pleasure to remember why you left at the moment. He takes your lips before sheathing his entire length inside you, once again he takes the opportunity to shove his tongue down your throat, your eyes rolling in the back of your head.

         He moves a hand back to your throat, enjoying how your tongue spasms while trying to gasp for air, the brutal pace stretching around him. Your moans only muffled by his own mouth before he hits the bundle of nerves inside you, sending a wave through your entire body. He pulls back, releasing his grasp to look at your panting body, simultaneously relaxed and twitching.

         Looking down briefly before pulling out, quickly flipping you over, lifting your ass up to plunge back into you before you could even think about what was happening. One hand going down to tease your clit while the other snaked around your throat, pulling your back against his chest while he nips at your ear and neck. “Who am I?” Your mind numb when he pulses a squeeze on the sides of your throat.

         He does a rougher thrust into you, letting you moan out before he asks the question again. Your eyes lull to the side, seeing him out of the corner, “L-Law.” You moan out, your hands going to support your self and the arm around your front. He lets out a satisfied hum into your neck, his movements becoming gentler.

         You catch up on your breathing right as he moves his hand away from your neck. Your own hands going to his arm, pushing it back, “Law, please~” You surprised moan takes him back for a second.

         He spins both of you around, sitting on the bed with you on top, feet trying to get a hold on the bed frame as he continues to fuck up into you. One arm wrapped around your waist while the other was still being held to your neck by you. “And why should I do what you ask?” His question dips a bit, a nip on the back of your neck sending you to cloud nine.

         “I’m- so close,” You pant out, sweat covering both of your bodies as you admit the heat building inside you, “Please, Law. I-“ You let out another breathy moan as his hand returns to the spot that deprives you of air.

         The weightlessness you feel becoming overwhelming as you feel the erratic thrusts. You arch your back, Law moving his hand up to your jaw, twisting your face to meet his, drowning out the moans while your body pulses around him in a death-like grip. You feel him groan before holding you down with the arm around your waist.

         The subtle grind of your hips milking him empty, feeling his chest heave against your back before catching your breath. The room humid and hot, Law’s hair stuck to his forehead with sweat before he shifts onto the bed, pulling you down with him.

         His head rubbing into the nook of your shoulder while he hugs you close, “I’m sorry.” The muffled voice shook you as you melted into his touch, “I forgot about our date.” His stern yet weak voice sounding like an angry kitten as he refused to let you go.

         You hum in agreement, “Didn’t realize you knew what you did wrong.” You shift your body, trying to get his softening cock out of your abused hole to enjoy the needy cuddle from the man below you. Instead, his arms grip you tighter, a small thrust into you to keep you in place.

         His lips pushed further into you, more of a means to muffle himself, “Figured it out along the way.” You huff out slightly at his pouting, once again trying to get loose.

         “I won’t leave Law, but it’s hot and we’re both sticky.” He murmurs to stay put a little longer as he turns to his side, bring you with him. It can’t hurt to indulge him a little longer.

[redocity]

What about reader and Maddie going shopping and reader surprising buck with some cute lingerie after that she just bought??

WELCOME HOME — E.BUCKLEY

you always missed buck when he was at work, so you organised a little surprise for him when he finally got home.

evan buckley x fem!reader | suggestive | 2.1k | requests open!!

cw — 18+ content, minors do not interact. not technically smut but an insulation of smut at the end, buck picks up the reader

a/n — ya girl is back after over a month 💀 sorry bros, exam season ripped me to shreds

masterlist.

Buck’s apartment always seemed bare when he wasn’t in it, the metaphorical light that made it feel like a home disappearing whenever he went on shift.

You never knew exactly why it made you feel so different, you’d been living with him for almost six months, but Buck’s absence never failed to make you feel lonely.

So you made an effort to stay out of the apartment for as long as possible when Buck wasn’t there to share it with you, seeking comfort in the company of your friends to pass the time.

Today’s excursion was a mall trip with Maddie.

It wasn’t anything special, a lunch trip and some random shopping for god knows what (mostly stuff for Jee), but as the afternoon turned into early evening, the stores you visited became less ‘family oriented’ and more… personally intriguing.

Case in point, a very well placed lingerie store right on your way back to the parking lot.

The two of you had justified your little detour as a little ‘treat’ for yourselves after being so responsible with your purchases for the rest of the day, delusion feeding delusion as you both convinced yourselves of any reason possible to be there other than just wanting to go inside.

“It’ll only take ten minutes” you’d both agreed.

It did not take ten minutes.

The two of you paraded around the store for almost an hour, picking out certain things you liked to show them off to each other and promptly putting them back on the rail once you looked at the prices. Rinse and repeat.

Although, there was one singular set that you had kept coming back to throughout your window shop, a cute silk bralette and shorts ‘pyjama’ combo with a silk robe to match.

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t come back to it at least every ten minutes, and by the third time Maddie was practically forcing you to pick it up and keep it on hand “just in case,” you decided you wanted to buy it before you left.

You were convinced you weren’t going to, but ever persuasive as she is, you followed her instruction either way.

And you did end up taking the set home with you.

It was a sizeable blow to your bank account, and Maddie’s victorious attitude as you got to the counter didn’t help your defeat, but you knew you were going to regret it if you didn’t.

You deserved to look sexy, to feel sexy, and above all else the small image in the corner of your mind of Buck’s face when he saw you in it was motive enough for you to shell out on yourself.

What was the harm really?

You stripped to try it on basically the second you stepped into your apartment, spending god knows how long parading yourself around in front of every mirror you could find.

You solidified that it was indeed a good purchase when the front door clicked open and Buck’s work boots thumped heavily against the wooden flooring, joined by his bag as he breathed an obvious sigh of relief at being home after a full 24 hours away from home.

“Babe? You here?” His voice practically sent shivers up your spine as he called out to you, setting your heart racing as you prepared yourself for the ‘reveal’ of your new purchase.

It really shouldn’t have been so adrenaline-inducing, but you wanted him to like it as much as you did.

“Hey baby, welcome home,”

It’s like Buck’s vision is trained to gravitate towards you with how fast his eyes flicker to you as you walk around the corner to stand at the top of the staircase.

He gives a very obvious once over when you’re fully in sight, letting out a low whistle as he kicks off his boots to start his ascent of the stairs.

“How was your day?” You walk down the stairs a few paces, still remaining a few steps higher than him to rest your arms over his shoulders in a hug.

“Long..” Buck murmurs, his hands falling to rest on your hips automatically as he stands below you on the steps, tilting his head back to maintain eye contact. “But definitely just got better..” Buck says with a small smirk, glancing over your attire again with a low hum.

You give a soft hum at his approval, practically preening at the attention he gives you as his eyes take a tour of your frame. “You like?”

Buck’s thumbs begin to trace small circles into your hips as you ask the question, his gaze shifting back up to meet your eyes with an almost offended tint that you’d assume anything else. “Love..”

“Yeah?” You lean forward until your noses brush together, placing a chaste kiss on his lips. “I bought it today,” And another kiss, “Just for you,”

“And it looks so damn good on you..” Buck murmurs in response, his hands sliding down your hips to cup at your ass, giving it a firm squeeze through the silk as his lips return the chaste kiss.

You let out a short chuckle at his brash show off affection, fingers carding through his hair as your faces part. “Thank you,”

Buck presses another firm kiss to your lips, his tongue teasing against your lips as he pulls you closer to him. “Anytime, babe…”

His hands continue to trail further down until they grab the backs of your thighs, lifting you up with ease to carry you back up the stairs towards the bedroom.

The sudden change elicits a small gasp from you, one that quickly turns to laughter as you wrap your arms over his shoulders for stability.

Your laughs are echoed with Buck’s own as he kicks open the bedroom door to drop you onto the mattress, soft kisses pressed against your neck as he leans over you.

“Hi,”

The smile the spreads on his face is almost giddy as he speaks, his fingers tracing up and down your sides.

“Hi,” Your echo of a response is almost entirely a giggle as you run your hands over the curves of his neck and shoulders.

Your laughs seem to be contagious as the two of you continue to share soft chuckles and giggles, Buck’s fingers drifting across your skin and the silk covering your chest, leaning down to brush another kiss onto your lips.

“Missed you…” he says quietly, his eyes slowly closing as his nose brushes against yours.

“…missed you too,” The quietness of your voice mirrors Buck’s as you cup his face in your hands, leaning your forehead against his.

It was hard not to miss the love of your life when he worked such long hours.

Buck lets out a soft sigh at your touch, his fingers lifting up to brush away hair from your face, tilting his head to press a soft kiss to your forehead.

“This new schedule blows…” Buck murmurs, moving to bury his face into the crook of your neck.

“No kidding,” You wrap your arms over his back as he lies on top of you, his head buried into your shoulder with no consideration for his inherent need to breathe.

Buck’s breath is warm on your skin as he nuzzles into the crook of your neck, a small smile playing at his lips as he just soaks up the comforting presence.

“Think you’re the only thing keeping me alive this week…” He murmured against your skin, a small shiver running through him as his lips gently brush against your skin.

You let out a small laugh at his comment, pressing a gentle kiss to his temple as your hands continue to roam the expanse of Buck’s back, carefully pressing and massaging into his shoulder blades until he’s pliant in your arms.

“You’re a pretty good pillow..” Buck jokes against your skin, his eyes slipping shut at the soothing, repetitive motion of your fingers. “…sexy pillow,”

Your laugh evolves at his murmured approval of your use as his personal pillow, and you revel in the positive attention it brings you, allowing your eyes to fall closed so you can focus of the feeling of him in your arms.

Buck can’t help but begin to laugh too at the sound of your amused chuckle, smiling against your skin. “Just what I need after today…” he gently tilts your head to the side with his hand to bite down gently on the skin in the crook between your neck and your shoulder.

“To come home and just unwind..” he whispers as he begins to nip and suck on your skin, slowly leaving behind a small trail of reddening marks. “And to have my beautiful girlfriend waiting for me..”

Buck’s gaze slowly travels up to meet yours as he pulls away to admire his handiwork, a small smirk on his lips.

“..With this sexy little outfit..” he adds with a small hum, his fingers gently tugging at the hem of the bralette as it sits snug against your chest.

“Don’t get me wrong…” Buck begins, his smirk widening into a grin. “I’d take you in anything, but when you get all dolled up especially for me I almost lose my damn mind…” He punctuates his words with a kiss pressed against one of the ripening marks, the redness slowly fading into a soft purple that would be a nightmare to cover up tomorrow.

The laugh you let out at his apparent enthusiasm is more of just a breath as his lips his your sensitive skin, with his hands moving slowly over your body, his eyes following their movements as they run up over your sides, your ribs, over the curves of your boobs, as he just drinks in the sight of you.

“You gotta have the most perfect body I’ve ever seen..” Buck murmured softly, almost adoringly as his gaze remained focused on your chest.

“…God..” he mumbled against your skin, leaning in to press a few, slow kisses at your collarbone. “I’m the luckiest man alive…”

His tongue flicks out at his lips as he begins to run his fingers teasingly under the waistband of your shorts, the other moving to gently cup one of your boobs through the fabric with a low hum.

You let out a soft hum of your own at the roaming of his hands and the languid kisses he leaves against your skin, your fingers carding through his hair, gently tugging at the scalp in a show of your responsiveness.

Buck’s body lets out a small shiver as your fingers run through his hair, his eyes closing again as a small smile comes to his lips at the soothing feeling. “Mmmm…” he mumbled, peppering the skin at the top of your breasts with more kisses, his tongue teasing out occasionally to dip down into the cleavage exposed by the v-neck of your bralette.

The kisses on your skin get a little bit sloppier as he slowly works his way lower down your body, occasionally letting out a low hum and biting down on your skin.

“Can we just stay in all weekend..?” Buck murmurs against your skin, pulling away for just a second to rest his chin on your stomach as he looks up at you.

“that sounds like a great idea…” You practically breathe out your words as you respond to Buck’s suggestion. God knows you’d been missing him all week, and god knows you wanted to revel in this moment for as long as possible now that he had a full 48 hours at home.

Buck’s face lights up with a wider smile at that, a small, happy laugh escaping his lips as he nods in agreement. “I’ll be sure to make it worth your while.” He murmurs, returning to his previous ministrations on your skin, his lips pressing down kisses as he lowers them downward to your navel.

Buck’s hands finally slide underneath your shorts to tug the silk down your legs, grabbing onto your thighs as his lips slowly trail lower and lower, his eyes lifting up to meet yours.

“I’m gonna make you feel so good baby..” Buck promised in a low grumble, his fingers squeezing gently into your skin. “I promise,”

[wooataes]

a wilted rose - ljh

pairing: mafia boss!lee jihoon x fem!reader

word count: 3k

warnings: mafia!au, arranged marriage!au, angst, hurt and comfort, mentions of violence and guns, injuries, bruises, crying, swearing, implied murder, slight fluff, jihoon being protective (yes, that’s a warning)

summary: an unfortunate encounter has jihoon realize his true feelings for his wife.

a/n: toyed around with the idea of mafia!boss jihoon and this is what popped out 🙊 happy new year, friends!

- tae 💜🌸✨

Masterlist

Part Two? | Ask to be added to my taglist

Lee Jihoon’s family is known as one of the most feared Mafia families in South Korea, his great grandparents having made a reputation for themselves that has been held up for generations.

Jihoon was born an only child and singular heir to the Lee fortune and the Lee legacy; having known from a young age that he would eventually end up being the leader of the Lee clan. He knew the family business was dangerous, and since being taught the ropes at 13, he knew that his relationships could be used against him from rival clans. This reason alone caused him to be cautious and callous with who he associated with. He only has two important people he would consider his friends.

His closest friend, Kwon Soonyoung also doubles as his right hand man. Both men grew up together due to Soonyoung’s father being close with Jihoon’s. Their frequent meetings caused the young men to be around eachother for long bouts of time, eventually being homeschooled together while their father’s talked business. For Jihoon, Soonyoung is the one and only person he could trust on this earth- time and time again, he has always proved his unchallenged loyalty to Jihoon and his father’s family. If Jihoon was irrational and unfiltered, Soonyoung was his voice of reason and his level-headed decision maker. To him, it was a match made in heaven.

The second person he considered his friend, or used to, was you. You came into both Jihoon and Soonyoung’s life at 8 years old, your family having been hired by Master Lee to work as live-in staff in their mansion. You were the only other child Jihoon and Soonyoung’s age, and despite Master Lee’s cold heart, he grew to treat you like his daughter and let Jihoon frequently spend his younger years playing with his two closest friends when they weren’t being homeschooled together until he was of age to get into the family business.

12 months ago, when Jihoon had just turned 25, Master Lee announced his soon to be retirement to his son. The only condition for Jihoon to step up to be head of the family business was simple but to Jihoon, was absolutely atrocious.

“I don’t understand why you think me marrying would be advantageous to the family, father.” He hisses, adjusting his chain around his neck, glaring at the stupid red rose, the Lee family staple, perfectly pinned to his lapel.

“It is not to a random woman, Jihoon.” Master Lee frowned.

“That makes it worse!” He barked, leaning his head back in frustration.

“Jihoon. You have to know that no one can be trusted in this business. I am not allowing you to marry outside of who we trust. They can slither their way into your heart and when you are at your most vulnerable, they take everything out from under you. If the enemy knows you’re committed to someone already, it keeps them from hurting us from the inside.”

“Yeah, it also makes Y/N the number one target to the enemy and they will try and swipe her away from under our noses!” He’s yelling now.

He would never admit it to anyone, but he cares too much for you. You’re too good to be associated with the dastardly business that is associated with being in the mafia; you’re a good hearted person who happily serves the Lee family alongside your just as good parents. You’re the one good thing that Jihoon has left, and he’d be damned if he couldn’t protect you.

“It’s not like you’re going to be parading her out for missions and stake outs.” Master Lee frowns. “She is only for the parties. So others know that you’re a committed man that will not waver. I guarantee you she will be protected. She will be treated like a queen in here, and she won’t ever have to see the dark side of the business. Son, I promise you.”

For 12 months, Jihoon, in the public eye was the perfect model husband with you. He stayed by your side faithfully at galas and parties, parading you around with a look of what was perceived as adoration by others. Behind closed doors however, Jihoon treated you like a ghost. Long gone was your once closest friend who you stayed up late with to binge watch stupid movies, playing video games and pranks on Soonyoung. The only thing that remained was a quiet man that only greeted you for one meal a day, to his insistence for the sake of ‘normalcy.’ In your opinion, it felt anything but. Your attempts at conversion were shut down with one worded answers or sometimes none at all, and over time, you grew to enjoy your meal with your husband in silence before going about your day around the Lee mansion alone.

Jihoon thought his father’s plan was working. For 12 months, his wife was safe and protected and never got caught up with any of the mafia business. He was in alliance with most rival clans and worked out plans and deals to work for the foreseeable future.

Sadly for Jihoon, Master Lee was full of shit.

Jihoon is frantic. The staff had alerted him while out for a meeting with an ally clan that you had been injured. They were intentionally vague with details, knowing their boss would fly off the handle at the extent to what your injuries were.

“She’s at home.” Jihoon hears Soonyoung’s voice over the phone.

“What the fuck happened, Soonyoung.” He is sure he is making his driver break at least 10 different road laws right now to get back to the mansion. He makes a mental note to contact the local police and send some generous gift baskets.

“The guards don’t know. I’m trying to get it out of them, but no luck yet.”

“She shouldn’t have been out unsupervised.” Jihoon winces, rubbing at his temples. “Tell them if they don’t give you an honest answer by the time I’m back, I will have their tongues.”

“Just go to her right now, Hoon-ah.”

Marching into the living room, Jihoon makes his presence known by the heavy thuds of his boots on the tiled floor. His eyes scan the room until they finally land on you, his childhood friend and arranged wife, sitting anxiously on the couch. He feels his eye twitch at the sight of no guards in sight, you having been left alone since you have returned.

You lift your head up shakily, your eyes widening at the sight of your husband. His long hair, usually sported in a bun atop his head is now strewn about and falling out of the elastic holding it together, suit jacket scrunched and twisted, red rose nowhere to be found. You’re astonished, having grown so used to seeing your husband with his perfect red rose on his lapel at all times. What you didn’t know that after having found out about your capture, he thrown it to the ground in frustration of his worst fears coming true.

“Jihoon?” You blink nervously.

This is the first time you’ve seen him properly (minus your daily lunches) for maybe a month. He stares intently across the room at you, scanning your body. You’re cradling your left wrist in your hand, a bruise in the perfect shape of a hand print forming around your wrist. His eyes lift to your face, his blood boiling at the sight of a small cut across your cheek, your right eye swelling up and starting to turn purple.

“I-I’m sorry,” you stutter, biting down on your lip. “I know I shouldn’t have-“

You flinch at the sight of Jihoon striding forward, only to pause when he walks straight past you and into the kitchen, causing your shoulders to deflate. You were stupid to think your best friend had come back for only a moment. You sink sadly into the couch, curling up slowly.

Your head stays facing down at the floor as you run your fingertip over the hand print on your wrist, wincing and hissing as you press a little too hard. You sigh after a moment, moving to stand up before you pause at the sight of Jihoon’s expensive dress shoes directly in front of you.

You look up nervously at him as he reaches out, delicately taking your wrist, face neutral as he runs his fingers gently over the bruise just like you had done, eyebrows furrowing. You shiver slightly, this being the first physical contact you have felt from your husband in months. Next, he reaches forward and tucks a stray hair behind your cheek before examining the darkening bruise over your eye. At this, you see his eyes darken, heaving a heavy sigh through his nose.

“Who the fuck did this to you.” His voice is soft as he eyes you.

“I-I…”

“I need to know who did this.” He pleads.

“It was Hwang.” You whimper.

His jaw clenches. Hwang has sworn vengeance against the Lee family ever since Master Lee cut ties and alliances with the Hwang’s over his unethical practices. In Hwang’s words, he wanted to poison the perfect garden of roses that Master Lee built.

“H-he said it was a warning..” you can’t look Jihoon in the face. “T-to keep your wife on a leash or else something could happen. Jihoon, I’m so sorry, I really shouldn’t have gone out, I didn’t want to cause any more trouble.” You’re crying softly now, wincing at the pain that your swelling is causing.

You tense up as you feel something cool delicately rest on your cheek, opening your eyes to see your husband holding an ice pack gently to your face. Your eyebrows furrow in confusion as he moves you so you’re sitting down on the couch once more.

“You stay here until Soonyoung gets back to look after you, okay?” He instructs you as you just stare at him, bewildered. “Do you hear me, Y/N?” You nod your head slowly as you cradle the ice pack to your cheek. “Good.”

You watch Jihoon turn around and march back towards the front door of the mansion, pointing to Mr Kim, one of the guards who has been in Jihoon’s family for years. “Make sure no one comes inside this mansion except for me and Soonyoung. You guard her with your life until he gets here.” The man nods his head sternly as he moves to stand in the doorway between the living room and the entryway.

“J-Jihoon? Where are you going?” You ask nervously as your husband adjusts the gun holster around his waist, his voice cold and deadly, sending a shiver down your spine.

“I’m going to kill the fucker who thought he could touch my wife and get away with it.”

And with that, the door slams behind him, leaving you alone with Mr Kim eyeing the door sternly.

You stay anxiously in the living room for what feels like an eternity, waiting to hear anything from Jihoon or his guards. You jolt at the sound of the door after only 15 minutes of sitting in silence, breathing a sigh of relief as you see Soonyoung rush inside and run straight towards you.

“Soon…” you whimper as he meets you halfway, immediately pulling you close and hugging you to his chest.

“Fuck, Y/N, I’m sorry I wasn’t there.” He breathes out, shaky. “The one fucking day I had to go run some errands…”

You hate the fact that Hwang probably waited for Soonyoung to be away from you to strike.

“Soon, it’s fine…” you whisper, wincing as he pulls away to look down at your face, closely examining your swelling eye.

“It’s not fine, look at you!”

“I’m still alive, aren’t I?” You whisper, and he just sighs with frustration, leading you to the couch and sitting you up against the cushions, laying a fluffy blanket over you.

“You’re going to sit here and we are going to watch some tv until Jihoon-ah gets back, okay?” He settles down beside you.

“Soonyoung, you can go have a shower or eat or something...” Your voice is low as he scrolls through random movies to play on Netflix.

“Nope.” He made a promise to stay with you until Jihoon gets back, and he will stay true to his word. Eating and washing up can wait.

“Y/N-ah.” Soonyoung glances at his phone after a few hours. The ice pack against your cheek is now lukewarm, your legs having shaken non-stop since you’d been forced to sit down.

“Hm..” you hum in response.

“Jihoon-ah will be home in 5 minutes. He asked for me to give you both some privacy and take care of some clean-up. Will you be okay with Mr Kim watching you?”

“Okay.” You respond nervously, teeth sinking into your bottom lip as Soonyoung gently touches your good cheek with his finger.

“I’ll be in the other room making calls if you get scared between now and then. Okay?”

“Thank you, Soonie.” You whisper, looking up at him with a grateful smile.

“You’re welcome.” He smiles back before turning around and walking down the hall, leaving you alone once more as the panic begins to rise in your body.

You’re lucky you don’t have to wait long, as true to Soonyoung’s word, Jihoon steps inside his mansion and into the living room not even 5 minutes later, heaving a sigh. When you spot him, you rush quickly to him, immediately noticing the blood on his shirt and causing you to panic even more.

“Oh god.. you’re bleeding, what have I done? Your father will have me for this.” You quickly try to wipe the blood off his shirt (which you’re relieved to realize isn’t his). Jihoon surprises you both as he reaches forward to take your injured wrist again, pulling you to him and wrapping his arms tight around your waist.

He pulls your head into the crook of his neck, squeezing you to him as his chin rests on top of your head, grip tight on your shirt. You’re shaking before you just melt into his embrace, holding onto his jacket tight as he hums.

“Are you okay.” When you just nod, he pulls back to look into your face. “I need to hear it from you, Y/N. Please… just humor me.”

“Yeah, I’m okay, Hoonie.” You breathe out with wide eyes.

Why does he look so scared?

He sighs with finality before he pulls you back to him, hugging you tight for the first time since he was forced to hold you at your wedding over 12 months ago.

“We will need more security.” He mumbles to you as he holds you tight. “Guards at every post. When we go out, when you’re out in the garden, everywhere. It’s clear they know your schedule so we need to throw them off your scent.” He is talking a mile a minute as he keeps you close to his chest, afraid you’d slip away. “As a precaution, I will have guards sweep the house for any bugs they could have planted. Tonight, we will sleep in the safe house. Is that okay with you, Y/N?”

“Yeah, that’s fine.” You whisper, your face buried in his shirt. You don’t want to leave his side as much as he doesn’t too - this being the most affection you’ve gotten from someone in 12 months.

“Fuck.” Jihoon didn’t account for the fact his safe house only had one king size bed. “You can take the bed, okay… I can take the couch.”

“Don’t be silly.” You hum, already dragging him to the bed. “We’re both adults here. I think we can handle sharing a bed. We used to in school, right Hoonie?”

“I mean yeah, but we weren’t married then.”

“We’re only married on paper. Why are you being so iffy?” You laugh, wincing as your smile hurts your bruising cheek. Without thinking, he reaches out to cup your face worriedly, examining the bruise before rushing out to the kitchen, returning a few moments later with a small ice pack to press to your cheek.

“I’d feel more comfortable if you were close, Hoon. Please.” You ask quieter now as he rocks awkwardly on his heels.

“Only until you’re asleep.” He bargains, and you nod quickly.

“Deal.”

After an awkward intermission of you both getting ready to share the bed for the first time since your wedding, you’re finally drifting off, curled up beside your husband as he sits up against the bed head, stiff as a board in sweatpants and a large jumper. Jihoon lays on top of the blankets so he can make an easy get away when you fall into a deep sleep.

He’s about to up and leave as your breathing evens out, thinking you’re asleep when he feels you shift. You scoot closer, hand finding his as your head nestles comfortably against his shoulder. You visibly relax at his warmth, your shaky hands slowing to a stop as you essentially glue yourself to his side. He tenses up, looking down at you with wide eyes as you finally fall asleep. He frowns deeply at the sight of your bruise showing before aggressively sighing to himself and wrapping his free arm around you to hold you against his chest. He is unable to resist your cuteness. That, and he wants to protect you, of course.

Jihoon refuses to sleep a wink in case someone tries to break in, but after hour four of him stroking your arm delicately with his cheek resting on top of your forehead, he feels himself drifting off.

When he wakes up, he sees you’re still cuddled up to him, but almost jumps out of his skin when he sees Soonyoung standing at the foot of the bed with a knowing smirk on his face.

“It took you long enough to treat your wife like she is your wife.”

“Shut the fuck up.” Jihoon hisses out as quietly as possible to not wake you, his cheeks bright red. “If she wakes up, I’ll have your head.”

“I’m sure you will.” He winks.

“Kwon Soonyoung I swear to god if my wife wasn’t sleeping against me right now, you’d be six feet under.”

“Mhm~” he sing songs, stepping out the bedroom door.

“If you tell anyone, you’re dead.”

ljh taglist

@breakfastburritosattiffanys @mar-627 @milopenne @lanatheawesome @sunnynapp @jaeminsbuckethat @opheliaas-stuff @hotricewoozi@lavayeon @seventeenthingsblr @zaggprincess2 @markleehee @kwanniesboo @beardedartgamingbakery @iarayara

permanent taglist

@misshale21 @etaerealboy @kawennote09 @im-gemmy @devinkelsey19 @woozieeeee @loveless-lie @lixiel0ver @keymins @nen-nyy @i-dont-give-a-fok @miriamxsworld @jojowantstocry @roe-sinning @sun-daddy-yoriichi @coveyland @side-angel @rinalouu @flwerrchild @apobangpowrld @ldysmfrst @adeptiixiao @lisaaaaamanobannn @jovialpartyneckoaf @sarahisupset

[ambrosiaaddiction]

The Princess and The Tool

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ repair man!Simon Riley x curvy!Y/N

₊˚ପ⊹ Warnings: None other than Simon’s just a man, and his thoughts start to wander.

₊˚ପ⊹ Part 1

₊˚ପ⊹ Word count: 2.5k

₊˚ପ⊹ Summary: Y/N and her best friend have finished unpacking in their new apartment. However, in the span of two months, more and more problems have occurred. Simon Riley is one of the several repair men in the area, and he’s sent over as a last resort to provide the solutions.

➽──────────────❥

Y/N was the most independent woman known to her family and friends. She was headstrong, had an incredible work ethic, and always looked after those who were close to her. As the youngest of two children, she took it upon herself to learn valuable life skills rather than wait until she was older. While her childhood wasn’t like what she had seen in movies and tv shows, Y/N never lost hope.

Y/N and her best friend, Luna, have known each other since freshman year of high school, and their friendship was nearing a decade. They were now in their early twenties, and they decided to proceed with their plan of moving together into their first apartment.

Although, Y/N had noticed a couple of things that seemed kind of worrying. She soon realized that the previous owner hadn’t taken great care of it when they lived there. A singular step on the staircase wasn’t properly bolstered, which led to the poor woman getting her foot stuck in the hole. She fell forward with a loud bang, and silence fell upon her roommate and herself.

“Are you still alive?” Luna joked as she stared at her best friend’s fallen body at the top of the staircase. Luckily, Y/N wasn’t injured judging by the laugh of disbelief that fell from her lips.

The worst of them was when the breaker shut off and neither of them were home. Y/N urged Luna to send a work order to the people in charge of repairs. The following week, the first man to check the breaker was no help whatsoever. He stared at the breaker for five minutes, shrugged at Luna, and left.

So Y/N sent a message herself, which was taken more seriously than her roommate’s. Little did she know who would be the one to come to the rescue.

➽──────────────❥

Y/N and Luna were planning on how to spend their afternoon together. Unbeknownst to either of them, there was a man parked outside of the apartment and sitting on a golf cart. Luna had her back turned to him, phone nestled between her cheek and shoulder as she locked the door. She almost walked past him until he called out to her, which pulled her attention to him. She put her phone against her chest, startled and embarrassed that she actually didn’t see him.

“I’m so sorry! I had no idea you were waiting here!” Luna’s face was reddened with a deep blush as she apologized profusely. The man chuckled in response, not really offended by her reaction. It sent an unexpected shiver down her spine. “S’alright. I tried callin’ ya, but I’m glad I caught ya before ya left.” He had a thick English accent, and his voice only caused her blush to worsen.

He rose to his feet, easily towering over her, the lower half of his face adorned with a scar running across his lips and chin. Like the other maintenance men that arrived at their apartment before him, he wore the standard uniform. Khaki shorts that hugged his muscular thighs, a standard cobalt blue uniform t-shirt that stretched tightly around his broad chest, and he had short cropped blonde hair. On his left arm, he had a full sleeve of black and white tattoos.

A few seconds later, Y/N drove up to the empty parking spot and turned off the car engine. Her eyes widened at the welcome sight of the repair man standing in front of her roommate. She got out of her car, making sure to lock the doors more than once as she made her way over. “Hello! We didn’t know what time you would be here, so we figured we would go for a little shopping trip.” Y/N explained as she waved to him with a warm smile.

In the back of his mind, Simon thought that he was lucky to be around two beautiful women. But that wasn’t the reason why he was outside of their shared apartment this morning. “Oh? Well, name’s Simon Riley, and I hope tha’ I can help you ladies with any issues.” He introduced himself, and gently shook Y/N’s much smaller hand. “I’m Y/N, and she’s Luna. She’s my best friend/roommate.” She replied in kindness, and her roommate smiled up towards Simon.

He shook Luna’s hand as well, the soft crow’s feet by his eyes crinkling with a wide smile of his own. “It’s a pleasure to meet you both.” With introductions were out of the way, Simon followed the two of them inside the apartment. He also noticed their similar styles. Y/N wore black spandex that stopped mid-thigh with a baggy t-shirt, and black Nike slides. Luna, on the other hand, wore ripped denim shorts, a black video game t-shirt, and black combat boots.

“My roommate told me that when she came home, everything was turned off.” Y/N began to explain as she stood against the wall adjacent to the circuit breaker. “We have no idea why or how the breaker tripped when neither of us were home.” Luna added with a shrug and watched Simon turn on his flashlight.

He nodded in acknowledgement of their concerns then rolled his eyes at the mention of his co-worker not being any help whatsoever. He wasn’t surprised, but he was glad that he had the opportunity to prove he was more experienced. “So it turns out that there’s a loose screw. Chances are that it was caused by the storm we had recently.” Simon concluded as he switched off his flashlight and sighed.

Y/N and Luna looked at each other, the both of them silently communicating before laughing. “That’s it? Just a loose screw?” Luna asked mid giggle, and Y/N laughed a bit harder. “And here we thought that we were going crazy.” Luna shook her head before sighing softly. Y/N soon calmed down then noticed how Simon’s gaze lingered on her. She cleared her throat, straightening her posture and tilting her head slightly to the side with a smile.

Simon quickly tore his eyes away, cursing at himself for getting distracted by a gorgeous woman who was clearly younger than him. “Was there anything else that you needed help with?” He asked Luna, who nodded and was aware of how he stared at Y/N. “Yeah, the paint is peeling off in her bathroom, and there’s like, mold in the corner of my bathtub.” She replied, glancing at her best friend for confirmation.

“Also, one of the stairs at the top has the carpet lifting.” Y/N added, which caused Simon to furrow his brows. The more he learned about the negligence of his co-workers, the more disappointed he became. “She got her foot caught in the hole and fell on her face.” Luna piped up, and Simon’s eyes widened. “What? You fell?” His scarred lips morphed into a sneer, but it wasn’t directed towards either of the women.

How dare the other repair men be so careless? They should’ve done a routine check before approving that everything was safe. Especially with two sweet women who just moved into their very first apartment. Simon’s intense glare could’ve burned a hole in the floor.

“I’ll show you where exactly the paint is peeling.” Y/N walked past Simon, and he caught a whiff of her perfume. It suited her perfectly; there were notes of vanilla, sandalwood, and peony. Soft, feminine, and certainly alluring as he followed after her up the stairs. He couldn’t stop himself from staring at her hands that were covering her ass out of courtesy. A part of him wished he was able to see it jiggle with every step she took.

Y/N claimed the master bedroom for herself. It was spacious; the king size bed was against the furthest wall from the door, a singular window with grayish-blue and sheer curtains was on the right side of the bed, the tv was mounted on the opposite side, and there was a shelf that served as a temporary night stand. A very simple setup for Y/N until she bought more furniture.

She turned on the light in the bathroom, and Simon was right behind her. Y/N had chosen to go with a black and white aesthetic. The shower curtain had a deep green leaf print, and there was also a toilet overhead shelf. Facing the toilet were matching black fluffy towels, and two checkerboard print hand towels side-by-side. It almost a tight fit with his bigger stature taking up most of the space.

“I didn’t really think of it as a big deal at first,” Y/N pointed at the top of the tile wall next to the shower head. “But I did want to have it redone before it could peel even more.” Her lips formed a soft pout, and Simon had to fight the urge to stare at them.

He had to stand behind Y/N, and the smell of her perfume filled his nostrils again. “I see. I’ll have it lookin’ brand new, I promise.” His voice rumbled in his chest as he leaned closer to assess where the paint was coming off.

But it was impossible to stop his mind from wandering. Simon pictured her covered in bubbles as she bathed. Her skin glistened from the warm water, aromatics wafted in the air, and her sultry gaze met the hunger brewing behind his eyes. Her hand slid down her soapy tits and disappeared underneath the water. Her plump lips parted to moan out his name as her back arched in pleasure.

What pulled him out of his naughty fantasy was when Y/N lost her footing leaning too far over the tub. She yelped in surprise, and his fast reflexes caught her before she fell. They stayed like that, his thick strong arms wrapped firmly around her waist to keep her upright. Y/N’s heart was pounding in her ears, and she had to ignore where his fingers were gently pressing into her skin through her t-shirt.

“Careful, love,” he whispered in her ear. “Wouldn’t want you hurting tha’ pretty head o’ yours.” Y/N would’ve melted right then and there if it weren’t for Simon supporting her weight. It was both amazing and flattering that he wasn’t struggling to hold her up.

“Thank you, Simon.” She whispered back, her voice slightly trembling as he carefully helped her stand on her feet again. “You’re welcome, princess.” He chuckled at the sight of her adorable blush. Y/N wasn’t sure how to recover mentally and emotionally from what just happened.

Luna eventually came upstairs to check on them, and with one look on Y/N’s face, she immediately put the pieces together. “So… will you be able to start painting the wall today?” Luna spoke up after a few moments of awkward silence passed. Simon’s mind was reeling as he turned to the other woman, and his hands were itching to feel Y/N again. “I’d have to come back on another since I don’t have the right tools with me. But let me take a look at your tub.”

They then left Y/N’s room, went down the stairs, and made their way to Luna’s bathroom. Compared to the Y/N’s bathroom, hers was an all blue aesthetic. Beside the tub was a soft navy blue bath mat. Luna’s shower curtain had a continuous pattern of navy blue teardrops in the form of circles. She pulled the shower curtain to the right, revealing her personal hygiene care and the corner with mold buildup.

“I noticed it a couple of days ago, but I couldn’t clean it off.” Luna gestured to the left corner of the bathtub next to the faucet. Simon’s eyes followed the direction of where she was pointing, and he understood why she felt somewhat frustrated. “Not even the scrub daddy could remove whatever that is.”

“It shouldn’t take me too long to caulk and re-paint that corner.” Simon reassured her, his hand pulling out his phone from his pocket to take a picture the mold. “I’ll care take of this on my next availability before moving up so I can re-paint your wall, too.” He said to Y/N after standing up to his full height. It was almost comical how he looked so out of place in Luna’s bathroom. Almost. If he wanted, he could have Y/N pinned against the wall and keep her there until he was done with her.

Simon waited for the roommates to leave the bathroom first, making sure to turn the light off as he walked away. “Alright,” he began once they gathered in the kitchen. “Just to be clear—replace the breaker, paint the bathroom wall, re-caulk the bathtub corner, and fix the stair. Does that sound right to you ladies?” Y/N and Luna nodded at the same time, pleased to hear that Simon remembered what needed to be taken care of.

“Yup! I don’t think there’s anything else.” Y/N beamed at Simon, and he swore he felt his chest tighten. She was beautiful, had a wonderful personality, and now she would plague his thoughts from now on. “Good, good. I’ll start on the breaker, so I won’t keep you waiting too long.” He turned around to leave, closing the front door behind him.

Luna waited until his footsteps receded and that he was out of earshot. “Girl, we got a man who knows what he’s doing. And he’s attractive!” Luna softly gushed to Y/N, and they both giggled. “His tattoos and arms, though? I’d let him put me in a chokehold any day.” Y/N rolled her eyes with a smile at her best friend’s comments. She recalled the moment when he had her in his tight embrace. Simon truly was a good-looking man despite his height and scars.

Half an hour later, Simon returned and finished replacing the breaker with an entirely new one. He took a step back to ensure that it wasn’t loose on any side, and nodded in satisfaction. “Yeah, tha’ should do it.” He hummed, pleased with himself for completing the task. Y/N and Luna were also pleased that he knew what he was doing—unlike his co-workers. “Like I mentioned earlier,” Simon spoke as he shut the breaker door, “I’ll come back to re-caulk and re-paint in both of your bathrooms.”

“Would it be possible for you to come in the morning? I’ll be available, but Y/N has work at night.” Luna questioned him as they all hovered near the now open front door. The women could tell that his visit was ending soon, and they were grateful for his help. “I can be here at ten o’clock sharp.” Simon readily agreed to her request, but a part of him was disappointed that he’d miss out on seeing Y/N again. “I’ll also give you a call to let you know that I’m on my way.”

“Perfect! Thank you for your help, and I hope you have a great afternoon!” Y/N waved goodbye, her (e/c) eyes shining in the sunlight. Her smile must be protected at all costs, kept away from the evil of the world. Simon returned the gesture before he winked at her. “No problem, love. Likewise.” And with that, he got into his golf cart then drove away.

Y/N and Luna stood in the doorway, completely shell-shocked by what unfolded. “What just happened?” Y/N whispered to her best friend, who honestly didn’t have an answer. “I’m pretty sure he finds you attractive.” Luna replied before shutting the front door and locking it. “Oh, my god, he finds you attractive!” She squealed with excitement, gently shaking Y/N’s arm. “Don’t worry, I’ll tell you everything that happens tomorrow when you’re at work.” Luna promised her because that’s what good best friends do.

When Y/N gathered her once scrambled thoughts, she grabbed her purse from the kitchen island. “We’re going shopping, and you’re driving.” Luna let out a dramatic groan, but didn’t complain about being the designated driver. “Okay, let’s go.” She put her bag over her shoulder, took out her keys, and the two best friends left to do some retail therapy.

[steviewashere]

Want to Go Home With You (Bring Me a Home)

Rating: Teen and Up (May Change With Future Chapters) CW: None, at least for now Tags: Alternate Universe - Mermaids, Hurt/Comfort, Dialogue Heavy, Took Canon Out Back And Pulled an Old Yeller, Mer!Steve Harrington, Fisherman!Eddie Munson, Soft Steve Harrington, Confused Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington is a Sweetheart, Eddie Munson is a Sweetheart, Steve Harrington Wants to be Loved, Mermaids with Animal Like Instincts, Future Propositioning, Lowkey Might Involve Some Omegaverse Aspects in the Future (Not Sorry)

This is chapter one of ????. Also this takes place in Oregon because that's what I know and the idea of a merman living in an Indiana lake-beach is odd to me. So...bear with me. This is my first like actual alternate universe, completely separate from Stranger Things, so be nice.

Also, I've written Steve here as a merman who's had no contacts with humans—his English is choppy and his understanding of basic human communication is weird. If that's a turn-off for you, turn back now.

Read Part Two Here

Can also be read on AO3

🧜‍♂️—————🧜‍♂️ Fishing wasn’t the ideal career to be going into after high school, but Eddie had to do something while he waited for his dreams to kickstart. Granted, going into this business was easy because his uncle owned the local bait shack. But it didn’t make the job any more appealing in the end. Not even the many beaches he had the chance to truck out to. There was Cannon Beach and Seaside’s, but he stayed close to home in Newport’s.

The beach wasn’t anything super spectacular. Sure, there were parts of it inhabited by the native seal population, some of the areas overloaded with crab shells. And it was damn near majestic during the summertime. Eddie, however, didn’t see the gist of spending time there, though. Maybe it had to do with how every single one of his work days would go, the hours spent sitting in the serene stretches of water. But nothing was intriguing or worthwhile about spending his time there.

That is, until one particular early summer day.

June isn’t a busy summer month for Eddie and his uncle. It was the right temperature, but there was still the risk of storms. Heavy duty kind of storms. Business didn’t stop, though. He woke up at 5:30am, when the sun was still acclimating to the baby blue sky, and readied himself in coveralls, thick and tall rubber boots, and a bucket hat that protected his lopsided mop of curls. His hair remained back in a bun and his skin was doused with paste-like sunscreen. In one hand he carried a red fishing rod and in the other, an old black lunchbox transformed for tackle.

He went out to the docks. To the few run down boats. And climbed aboard his uncle’s tried and true, S.S. Lenore—a tiny thing, made for up to four people, overrun with nets and crusted muddy footprints, and equipped with a singular cooler. The engine always took a few pulls to start up, jostling and crunching like food run through a garbage disposal, but it did the trick. And then he was off.

Eddie always took the chance to float out for a handful of minutes. Sometimes fifteen. Sometimes ten. Set himself up stagnant in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by nobody, with no chance in hell he’ll be interrupted. Today he just needed to get a cooler full of trout. Rainbow trout, to be more exact. They’re easy fish to gut and debone, good for baking in the oven, and stuffing full of herbs for marinated fish stew. He’d gone out previously to hoist in mackerels and herrings. This was the last trip he’d need to take for a good two weeks, but he was going to do a damn great amount of work for it.

“This should be good,” he mumbles to himself, just barely breeching the edge of his boat. The ocean underneath him moves in subtle pushes, rocking him lightly against itself. Its color is bright and shining—bluer, somehow, than the last time he visited just a few days ago. He can see schools of trout idling underneath the sheen of the water. And so he rigs one of his nets, tosses it over the side of his boat, and slowly sinks it into the water.

And he waits.

It isn’t until half past when he came out that the net begins to rustle. Tugging and splashing, but it doesn’t settle the way it does when it’s some regular trout. No, this threatens to topple Eddie straight into the cold depths of the water below. To sink his boat and turn it over of all its resources.

He grips to the ropes holding the damned thing up. Pulling at it hard enough to give him the starts of burns on his soft palms. And he heaves. Groaning with it. Panting unrelenting in the face of this thing trapped inside his net. Whatever he caught is surely not some common fish for his soup, this is something more—maybe even more dangerous. And he hadn’t thought to bring anything with him to ward off danger.

There had been one time where a shark got caught. Eddie happened to have a knife on him that time. He gave in, cut the ropes on the net, and let it free—which cost him the equipment, but luckily saved his life.

This is a time where having that knife would be spectacular. But as he hefts the net, he realizes that this creature caught is no ordinary thing. It’s not a shark. Not a seal. Not a school of fish. However, through the floundering waves around him, he catches on a fish-esque glimmer. Scales of some sort shifting with the catch of light breaking through.

He wrestles with the net for a few minutes more before eventually getting a good enough grasp to tie it down. Pulling up the rest with his hands, he’s met face to…tail with this creature. It has scales—pearl white and baby pink and pastel yellows—they shine iridescent in the high rise of sunlight. The end of the tail sports two fins, both of them crescent shaped, thicker towards the base of the tail, and spindly where it faces Eddie. Before he can stop himself, he’s poking at the scales, where they taper into absence at the creature’s fins. It’s then that the creature really notices him.

In one fell motion, grand and heaving, the boat rocks. Teetering into flipping. The creature turns its head to him and…hisses. Like the guttural bubbling hiss of a harbor seal. It rocks in the net again, as it lunges towards Eddie.

Immediately, Eddie pulls his hands away and steps as far back as the boat will allow him. Granted, it’s only four feet in width, but that puts space between him and this thing. The thing that he calculates slowly with his eyes. Tail—yeah, he already knew about that. But then he rakes up to the torso of the fish like creature, where his tail is ombre with the glistening, golden skin of a nude torso.

“That—That isn’t right,” Eddie finds himself stuttering, surveying the torso once again. Sure enough, there’s skin. Dotted with moles and freckles. Dark brunette chest hair that could almost be mistaken as black. Toned arms and big, veiny hands. At the ends of this creature’s fingertips are short, curved towards the palms, white claws. Gills where its ribs are. And then Eddie goes to its head. Square-ish jaw, more freckles and moles, smile lines and baby crows feet. Thick eyebrows, triangular nose with a bridge that angles slightly to the left. Ears that threaten to point at the tops. Brunette hair that swoops to the right, falls to its collarbones, wavy and stringy with saltwater.

And its eyes.

Human eyes. Hazel, glowing honey in the sun. Long eyelashes. Drooping eyelids. Pupils that are pinpoint small, dilating with every hiss that leaves the creature’s throat.

A mermaid.

Eddie Munson is looking at a fucking mermaid.

Or…merman? It doesn’t have the seashell bra like all the mermaids he’s heard tales about, but maybe that’s just fable. He’s played all kinds of fantasy games, but he never thought what he described would be looking at him. Wild eyes and baby shark-like teeth, though without the second row. Hissing.

It struggles in the net again, lunging. Wrapping its hands on the edge of Eddie’s boat, squeezing at the metal material. The force of this merman’s grip enough to cause the edge to creak. Eddie’s stomach drops.

“Woah! Alright, okay!” He exclaims, hands up and placating. Briefly, he wonders if it has a good sense of smell and hearing. Like it can scent the excretion of his sweat even in the cold air. Or how his heart beats like the galloping of a race horse. “Easy! I ain’t—I’ve got no reason to hurt you!”

It seems to know what he’s saying, as it relaxes in the net for the first time. But it shoots him a pitiful, pleading look. Petulantly whining at him, though the sound is gargled.

Eddie wipes his sweating palms on his coveralls and takes a tentative step forward. “Easy,” he murmurs, “I’ll free you, but you have to stay calm.”

But the merman shakes its head. “No,” it croaks, “No free.”

Okay, so the guy speaks. It knows English. Even as choppy and awkward as it sounds.

“No free?” Eddie questions, “You don’t want me to free you?”

It shakes its head again. Whines, gargling again in the back of its throat. Its hands grip to the boat again, this time lugging some of its weight. As if it’s trying to…climb in.

Eddie startles back once more. “Hey, no,” he barks, “no climbing in. You can’t come onto my boat.” Though he wants to take it all back the moment he locks eyes again. If it didn’t have scales and gills, Eddie would almost think it was a sad puppy hybrid. He can almost imagine the droopy tail paired with the glistening, fearful, and pleading eyes. “Why shouldn’t I free you? My boat isn’t your home and I can’t take you back with me. You belong in the water.”

“Home,” the merman echoes, croaking. “Your home…warm?”

“Uh—“ What the fuck, he can’t help but think, exasperated. “—uh, sure. Home is warm. My, uh, home is warm. I live by the sand with my uncle, selling worms and cooking fish. The sun hits my skin every morning.” He doesn’t know why he’s answering the guy, but something in its stare, the broken words—Eddie’s allured. “Can you please answer my question? I’d like to go home. So, why shouldn’t I free you?”

The merman points a clawed finger at itself. “My home not warm. Cold.” Eddie nods along because—of course, duh, the ocean is cold. But it murmurs, “Love.” And now Eddie’s confused all over again.

“Love?”

Its voice is soft and sweet, curious. “You have love?”

Eddie shouldn’t be indulging this. He shouldn’t. But maybe the merman is a siren with how he’s drawn to answer. “I don’t have a partner, if that’s what you’re asking. But my uncle loves me. And I love him. That’s—I have love like that.”

It nods like it understands. Looks away over its shoulder, to the cold, salty water. And visibly shudders before facing Eddie again. “No love,” it says, pointing at itself again. “I no have love. No warm.” It tries to climb in again, even as Eddie’s moving to pry its hands away, but it holds tight and hisses again. “Want warm. Go with. Want to go. Go now,” it demands in a low timber.

And even as pretty as this merman is, Eddie has to refuse. He shakes his head softly. Gently, he says, “You can’t. I—I don’t know you. And…I don’t have an ocean in my house. You’ll die if you come with me.”

“Steven,” it mutters.

What? “What.”

“Know me—Steven,” it says. “Know you? Name?”

Tentatively, Eddie relaxes again. Realizes that this won’t be an end all conversation. “My name is Eddie. It’s short for Edward,” he answers, “but I like Eddie more.”

It hums, observing. “Eh-die,” it sounds out. “Eddie,” it whispers. Without warning, it trills at him. High pitched, chirping and bubbling from the back of its throat. Smiling with the sound, squinting its pretty honey eyes. Something in Eddie stirs. “Like that,” it chirps. “Short and easy. I want.”

“You want a short and easy name, too?” Eddie clarifies. It nods at him, squeaking an affirmative thing. “How about…Hm, what’s a good name for Steven?” He ponders as the merman continues to look on at him, eyes bright and curious. “How about Steve? Is that good enough for you?”

“Steve!” It crows. Trilling again, higher pitched than the last, squirming again in the net, closer and closer to heaving itself into the boat. “Easy, easy, easy,” it says at him.

Eddie can’t help but chuckle. “So…Steve, am I able to call you a he? Like…His name is Steve?”

He nods at Eddie. Wriggling again as if he can’t contain his excitement.

“Well, now I know you, huh? It’s a shame I still can’t take you to my home.”

And now Steve frowns, eyes saddening again. “But…My home is cold. You have warm,” he says solemnly.

“I know,” Eddie murmurs, “but I don’t have space for you, Steve. Your home is in the water. If I take you out of the water for too long, you’ll die. You need the water.”

“I will see you again?”

Eddie shrugs. “If you see my boat again, you can visit me. How about that? And…what’s special about that, is that I can bring you things that aren’t in the ocean.”

“Man’s stuff?”

Befuddled, Eddie asks, “What are man’s stuff?”

“Stuff I see from up here. From Eddie’s home,” Steve answers. “I find and I keep and I hide. Nobody knows. Just Eddie. Eddie is nice, though. You make me happy.”

Humming, Eddie assesses Steve again. Smiles softly. “You’re nice, too, Steve. Even though you scared me earlier. But you were scared, too, huh? Caught in my stupid net.” He takes a careful step closer, standing over where Steve rests in the net still. He places a hand on one of Steve’s, tentatively, but purposefully. “But if you see my boat again, you can come visit. Maybe next time I’ll bring some fish soup? Do you eat fish?”

“Fish are tasty,” Steve says as a response.

Eddie chuckles again. “Okay, Steve. I’ll bring you fish soup. Tomorrow, though. I have to free you and go home, okay?” He reaches down for the ropes that he tied down earlier. Tugs on one of the knots and frees one side. Steve yelps.

“Promise you come back?” Steve meekly asks.

“Promise,” Eddie murmurs intensely, unraveling the last of the rope. “Look for Lenore. She’ll bring you back to me.”

🧜‍♂️—————🧜‍♂️ If you'd like to be tagged in future updates, let me know. Taglist for this is open <3

[sowoozoo-7]

Love, Lust & Litigation | Ch 6 (JJK, KNJ)

Pairing: Jungkook x Fem Reader x Namjoon

Genre: lawyer!AU, coworkers to lovers, slow burn, eventual smut

Rating: PG-13 (whole fic M, minors DNI)

Warnings: alcohol consumption, swearing

Word Count: 4k

A/N: Happy New Year everyone! This chapter has been a long time coming. Hope you enjoy~~

mlist | ch 1 | ch 2 | ch 3 | ch 4 | ch 5 | interlude | ch 6 | ch 7

The whirring of the hotel elevator reverberates through your head as you, Namjoon, and Jungkook ride up to your floor. You landed, finally, in another city after what should have been a direct, three-hour flight turned into a thirty-six hour travel nightmare. You were supposed to arrive on Saturday night and have all of Sunday to prepare for a week’s-worth of depositions. It’s your first class-action suit and you wanted to be fully prepared for Monday morning, but thanks to the reroutes, thunderstorms, and airplane malfunctions, every moment you spend with your eyes open is another moment without sleep. 

The firm booked a three room suite for the trip, for strategizing purposes, apparently. You suspect it was just cheaper, but at this point, you would take anything that has a bed. 

Namjoon sags against the wall of the elevator. Jungkook, the traitor, can fall asleep anywhere and managed to get some rest on the plane, but even he’s clutching the handle of his luggage for dear life. A headache that started at the beginning of your last flight pounds behind your eyes. You’re ready to wash the smell of airplane out of your hair and you desperately need to brush your teeth. Sweet, crisp hotel linen is in your future and it’s the only thing keeping you going. 

Before you left for the trip, you had the idea to sneak into Jungkook's room if the opportunity presented itself. Things have been going well with your maybe-boyfriend. You're still not sure what you are, and you're not in any hurry to define anything, especially since you blush like an idiot schoolgirl with a crush every time you see Namjoon. Namjoon, whom you have seen more in the past thirty six hours than you have in the last month. Endless meetings have kept him out of the office. Still, every time you see him, you can't help but notice Jungkook's eyes tracking him too. Things felt a little awkward at the airport as you waited for your flight, the conversation stilted, hesitant.

The elevator dings, and the door opens. Not that can spare more than a passing thought to all of that now. Your legs feel like lead, and you send up a quick prayer that the room isn’t in the furthest corner of the hotel, and that the keycard works once you get there. If the keycard doesn’t work, you may just curl up in a ball on the hallway carpet. 

Namjoon waves the keycard in front of the reader a few doors down from the elevator. It beeps green and you sigh in relief as the door opens to a kitchenette and a small living area. 

At first, you think you’re seeing things, that you’re just too tired to see the other bedroom doors branching off from the living room. That if you rub your eyes enough, two more rooms will materialize. Because this can’t be right. You get closer to the door to investigate, Namjoon and Jungkook behind you. 

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” 

Yeah, no. When all you wished for was a bed, you didn’t mean one singular bed. 

You’re the first to take action, locating the room phone and dialing reception. It doesn’t take long to confirm your worst fears. There was a mistake in your booking and thanks to conventions and concerts in town, the hotel has no other available rooms for the night. 

“So you’re saying there’s nowhere else for us to stay.” 

“The couch in the living room should be a pull-out couch?” At least the receptionist sounds appropriately apologetic on the other end of the line. 

You gesture to the couch, but as Jungkook tries to remove the cushions, they stay firmly attached to the base. 

You sigh into the receiver. “It’s not a pull out couch.” 

“All our couches are supposed to be pull-out couches,” she says in dismay. 

“Maybe this one sprouted legs and switched places with a regular couch.” You wince as the words come out of your mouth. It’s not her fault, you try to remind yourself. Don’t shoot the messenger.

“I do apologize ma’am. Normally, I would be able to resolve this issue but we don’t have any other rooms available…”

The poor girl sounds like she’s about to burst into tears. You can’t help sighing once more into the receiver. “I understand, but I expect this issue will be resolved in the morning? A three bedroom suite for the duration of our stay.” 

“Yes, ma’am. Understood, ma’am.”

The click of the phone into the receiver echoes through the quiet room. When you look up at Jungkook and Namjoon, they look back at you with dumbfounded expressions. 

“You’re mean when you’re cranky,” says Jungkook. 

You don’t have the energy to send a glare his way. 

“So, what do we do?” asks Namjoon. 

It’s clear none of you can think straight, not after all the regional airports and middle seat economy seats. No one moves. Your headache goes from pounding to piercing, and you pinch your nose to help you think. 

The clock on the bedside table ticks over to three a.m. You have had enough.

“Okay, here’s what we’re going to do. We have—shit—five hours before we have to be out the door. We’re all exhausted, we all need sleep. This is king size bed. There’s plenty of space for all three of us.” 

A look of panic comes over Namjoon’s face. “I’m sleeping on the couch.” 

You let out a bark of a laugh. “I can’t even stretch my legs out on that thing.” 

“I have to, it’s—“ 

“Go sit on the couch Namjoon, see if you can stretch your legs out.” 

He does. It’s almost comical how hard he tries to stuff himself into a comfortable position.

“See? We’re only getting a few hours of sleep, so we’re all gonna do this on a comfy bed. You know how important this meeting is tomorrow. If it doesn’t go well, all our prep will be for nothing.”

They still look dubious. You feel delirious with exhaustion. 

“Look, we’ll do this. It’ll be me, then Jungkook, then Namjoon.” You gesture to the bed, indicating where each person will sleep. “There’s plenty of room, we don’t even have to touch each other.” 

Jungkook nods along, but Namjoon makes a choked sound. “But you guys are dating.”

You and Jungkook share a look. Even thinking about doing anything remotely intimate is exhausting. Jungkook looks like he can barely keep his eyes open.

“That is the furthest thing from my mind, but if you’re worried, you can be in the middle.” 

He opens his mouth to protest again, but you put up a hand. “I don’t care what order we sleep in. I’m taking this edge, but I’m gonna shower first.” 

Showering is a sweet relief, and the warmth of the water eases your tired muscles. As you come out of the bathroom in a cloud of steam, you don’t even have it in you to be self-conscious about being in your pajamas around Namjoon, or to get all swoony about sleeping next to him. You start dozing off as soon as you tuck yourself between the covers, eyes heavy and mind tired. The sounds of the guys getting ready for bed sound distant to your ears. You don’t feel the dip in the bed as Namjoon gets in next to you, your dreams already swirling with depositions and settlements. 

“I had to share a bed with my colleagues. This is unacceptable.” 

The receptionist, a different one from the one you talked to on the phone, glances over to Namjoon and Jungkook and fails to cover a smirk. Infuriatingly, they look refreshed and handsome as ever. You tried your best to look presentable, but it’s like you can feel the lack of sleep hanging in bags under your eyes. No amount of concealer could hide that. 

“I am so sorry. That must have been an awkward night.” 

“Don’t give me that look. I barely got any sleep.” 

She lets out a strangled giggle.

“And not because of that either. They both snore like grandpas who need CPAP machines. Will the suite be ready for us by this afternoon, or not?” 

There’s a slow heartbeat beneath your ear, and it’s dragging you up to consciousness. 

Your mouth feels like cotton and just thinking that thought feels like someone reached into your head and squeezed your brain. How much did you drink last night? 

You don’t want to be awake right now. You don’t even know if it’s worth it to be alive right now.

Maybe if you close your eyes even tighter, you can convince yourself you’re not awake. You snuggle in closer and try to will yourself back to sleep.

A thought floats slowly to the surface. Your arm is wrapped around a waist, but it is not the enviably tiny waist you're used to.

You don’t panic, not at first. 

You crack open an eye only to squeeze it shut again. Morning sunlight streams in from the open window, sending a piercing pain through your head.

But… was that…? 

You look again, squinting against the brightness. Yes, confirmed. That is Jungkook’s tattooed arm draped across the same torso you’re clinging onto. You lift your head, blearily seeing that the has his head tucked into a neck. And that neck is attached to… 

Now you’re wide awake, your stomach flipping in surprise. 

How the hell did you end up sleeping on top of Namjoon? 

You poke Jungkook’s arm and you want to strangle him when he makes a bothered, mumbled noise and burrows his head deeper into Namjoon’s neck. The movement makes him stir, a deep grumble going through his chest. You feel it more than hear it. Your stomach does a funny flop again. 

Several things happen at once: 

1) Jungkook opens his eyes and freezes when he sees it’s not you he’s cuddling. 

2) Namjoon wakes up and clocks that you and Jungkook are sprawled on top of him. “This has to be a dream,” he mutters, the sound vibrating through his chest. 

3) You realize the funny feeling in your stomach isn’t because of Namjoon’s morning voice. 

No, your stomach feels funny because you had one too many cocktails the night before. And several glasses of champagne. Stumbling back to the hotel room with Namjoon and Jungkook, who were just as shitfaced as you. You all tumbled in through the door together and — 

Fuck. 

You’re about to puke up the contents of your stomach. You bolt upright, pushing past the tight embrace of Namjoon’s arms around you. The only thing more mortifying than waking up as one of the slices of bread in a Namjoon sandwich would be to throw up all over the glorious sandwich. You make it to the bathroom, barely.

As you’re decanting the contents of your stomach, flashes of the day before come back to you. The claimants settling before noon on Tuesday. Celebratory cocktails for happy hour. Ordering too much sushi. A second round at a karaoke bar. Pulling Jungkook and Namjoon by their ties to your bedroom. 

The rumble of deep voices comes from your bedroom as you hug the porcelain bowl. You’re never having alcohol again, you decide. 

Once your stomach settles, you pull yourself to your feet. Your reflection in the mirror startles you. You look like shit, your hair knotted and tangled, mascara smudged under your eyes. The thought of Jungkook—let alone Namjoon—seeing you like this makes you want to heave again. 

Wait, no. You do have to heave again. 

It takes twenty minutes for you to be sure that your stomach won’t rebel again, and for you to wash your face and brush your teeth. Your hair, you decide, is a lost cause. You pull on a robe before leaving the bathroom, because even if you made a mistake and slept on your boss in your undies, you sure as hell don’t want to parade around without pants. 

Namjoon and Jungkook sit on opposite sides of the bed when you come out of the bathroom, two feet of space between them. Jungkook looks like a dream, because life is unfair, and he always looks like a dream. Namjoon, mere mortal, looks like someone that just woke up after a night of drinking, face a little puffy, and hair sleep-mussed. They’re in similar states of undress as you, in undershirts and boxers. 

Namjoon notices you first, but Jungkook speaks first.

”Are you okay?” 

His voice is hoarse. He always goes too hard at karaoke. 

“I’ve been worse,” you say, voice croaky from all the karaoke and all the puking. You clear your throat and try again. “I can’t remember when, but this is surely not the worst. Um, how are you guys doing?” 

Jungkook looks down at his hands, his gaze flitting to Namjoon. 

Namjoon scrubs his hands over his face and takes a deep breath. “I’m sorry,” he says, his deep morning voice sending shivers down your spine. “I don’t know what happened.” 

“We drank too much is what happened,” says Jungkook under his breath. 

Namjoon shakes his head. “Drinking is never an excuse. It wasn’t appropriate.”

You sink into an armchair in the corner of the room. “I’m pretty sure it was me who dragged both of you in here.”

“‘A win calls for a cuddle.’” Jungkook imitates you in a high voice. 

If you had a pillow and the energy, you would chuck it at him. 

A little crease appears between Namjoon’s brows as he frowns. “Still…” 

“I need an aspirin if we’re going to keep talking about this,” you say. Your gut is a jumble of embarrassment, satisfaction, and yearning, and combined with the queasiness, you want to hit pause on this conversation. It takes you a second to muster up the energy to heave yourself off the armchair, but you get up, somehow, and go to your suitcase to take out the bottle of painkillers you always carry with you. “Want one?” 

They both nod, looking as miserable as you feel. 

You make your way to the kitchen to get yourself a glass of water. They follow you like little ducklings, copying you as you swallow down the medicine and several gulps of water. It brings sweet relief to your scratchy throat. You want to chug the entire glass, but the water sloshes around in your empty stomach, making you feel a little sick. The clink of the glass on the counter shoots through your brain. You climb onto the barstools by the kitchen counter and rest your head on the counter, the cool marble soothing. Your headache starts to fade a little, but not by much. 

“I’m sorry,” says Namjoon into the silence.

“Stop apologizing,” you say into the counter, words muffled. “If anyone should be sorry, it’s me.” You hope the words sound sincere coming out of your mouth, but a voice inside of you keeps repeating that you don’t regret it at all. Not when you can still feel the warmth of him beneath you, the tight squeeze of his arms around you, too. 

He shakes his head. “It wasn’t appropriate. I’ll report myself to HR when we return to the office.” 

You sit up, room swaying a bit. Jungkook stands against the counter, worrying his lip ring with his teeth. Namjoon grips his water glass so tightly you fear he’s going to break it. 

“Did something beyond sleeping happen, and I’m not remembering?”

A look of panic comes over Namjoon’s face. “I don’t think so.” 

Jungkook shakes his head. “No.” 

“Okay, then. We’re all adults here. I wasn’t touched in a way I didn’t want to be touched.” You try not to cringe as the half-confession slips from your lips. “Did you feel uncomfortable Namjoon?” 

“No, but that’s not the point.” Your stomach does a funny flip and this time it is because of him. He doesn’t regret last night. “I’m your boss, and there’s a power im—“

“Jungkook,” you say, turning to him. “Were you touched in a way that you didn’t want to be touched?” He shakes his head. “Were you in a situation you didn’t want to be in?” He shakes his head again. 

Something shifts in the silence that follows. Everything has been all but said, and you’re left feeling unbalanced. Or maybe that’s just the alcohol still talking. The throbbing behind your eyes makes it hard to think straight. 

“There you go.” You put your head back on the countertop, unable to look at either of them directly. 

“Still—“ Namjoon starts. 

You hold up a hand without raising you read. “Stop beating yourself up about it. The worst thing we did was sleep in the same bed together. It’s not like this is the first time, anyway.” 

Someone chokes on water. You keep your eyes closed, waiting for the painkillers to kick in. 

No one says anything for a while. 

Just as you’re about to fall asleep hunched over the counter, Jungkook’s quiet voice jars you back to reality. 

“What’s the plan now?” 

“What do you mean?” comes Namjoon’s response. 

“We’re supposed to be here all week for these depositions, but now that they’ve settled…” 

“I’ll check with the firm.” 

You hear movement in the kitchen, clothes rustling, glasses being placed down. When you muster the energy to sit up, only Jungkook remains. He looks lost in thought, staring into space. 

“I’m gonna shower.” 

He only gives you a grunt in response, eyes focused on another plane of existence.

You stand under the spray until your skin is red and wrinkly. When you come out, the sight of the rumpled bed reminds you of how warm and tight Namjoon’s embrace as around you, how right it felt to be with the two of them in the same space. You want to wail, because you got a taste of the impossibilities you’ve been dreaming of. It would have been best to leave it to your imagination. Why did you have to give in to your drunk impulses? 

You pull on the closest comfy clothes that look clean and go to sit in the living room. Jungkook, also freshly showered, sits on the sofa, scrolling aimlessly on his phone. The way he’s looking through his feed, you can tell he’s not processing what he’s seeing. You slump down next to him and rest your head on his shoulder, closing your eyes. He takes his hand in yours, thumb tracing slow circles on the back of your hand. The repetitive motion almost puts you to sleep. 

“Oh.” 

You open your eyes to see Namjoon in the doorway, looking at you two on the couch as if he walked in on something forbidden. He starts to back out of the living room. You sit up, and take your hand back. Or maybe Jungkook takes his hand away; you’re not really sure.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt—“

“No, you aren’t. We were waiting for you,” says Jungkook. 

You feel like all the air has been sucked out of the room. Namjoon looks like a deer caught in the headlights, not knowing whether to run away or come closer. The three of you are standing on a knife’s edge, waiting for something to tip you to one side or the other.

“Did you get in touch with the firm?” clarifies Jungkook. 

Air fills the room again, and you slump back into the couch, winded. Back to pretending like everything is okay, then. Like nothing has changed between the three of you.

Namjoon clears his throat. “Yeah, we’re staying as planned.” 

It’s Friday night, and the three of you are outside of the hotel waiting for a cab. Namjoon made a reservation on Yoongi’s recommendation for a trendy new restaurant that just opened. The cold, February air has a bite to it, and you pull your coat tighter around you. 

The world felt askew all of Wednesday and Thursday, as if you were on a ship permanently tilted by waves.  Work kept your mind off things, for the most part. As soon as Namjoon made the call Wednesday morning, Jimin and Hoseok got to work and scheduled a full afternoons of meetings for the remainder of your time on your trip. When you weren’t in meetings, you were in your room, sitting cross-legged on your bed as you answered emails and drafted briefs. 

During your free time, you had to remind yourself to act normally around Namjoon, as if acting normal was the only thing keeping everything from careening out of control. Every time you looked at Namjoon, he was either turning his gaze away from you, or looking at Jungkook with a sad expression on his face. Jungkook, on the other hand... you were worried he would chew off his lip piercing with how much he fiddled with it as he worked. 

Though by Friday morning, things felt like they settled down, with normal, easy banter between the three of you. It felt like a relief to laugh, and not feel on edge. You’re looking forward to going back home, to settling back into your normal routine. 

“Oh hey,” says Jungkook as he checks his phone, “it’s Valentine’s Day.” 

“Is it?” Your breath puffs out in a small cloud and you try to suppress a shiver. The longer the car takes to arrive, the more you’re regretting sacrificing warmth for fashion. You’re wearing your warm winter coat, but your legs are bare under your dress. 

Jungkook wraps an arm around your shoulders and rubs your arms to warm you up. He whispers into your ear, “Will you be my Valentine?”

Even though he whispered it, you see Namjoon stiffen out of the corner of your eye. 

You scoff and push Jungkook away, rolling your eyes, in an attempt to clear the tension. “It’s a stupid capitalist construct.” 

“C’mon, I’ll buy you discount chocolate tomorrow.” He pouts and gives you puppy dog eyes. 

Had you been alone, you would have made him beg for it. With Namjoon present, though, you want to kill Jungkook for acting like this.

Thankfully, the cab pulls up before he can do anything else. 

“Okay, but only because no one else is going to put up with your annoying ass.”

Luckily, there’s no more talk of Valentines on the way to the restaurant. You worry a bit if you’re going to be surrounded by lovey-dovey couples and if that will make the whole evening even more awkward, but unlike other places, there’s no red hearts plastered everywhere, no romantic candlelit tables with pink confetti. 

You get distracted by the good food in front of you and by the end of the main course, you forget about the tense atmosphere of the beginning of the night. A couple of drinks and everything gets right back to normal, the alcohol softening the edges of all the emotions you’ve been feeling. It finally feels like you’re at ease, like the three of you can go without blushing every time you make eye contact. It feels normal, instead of illicit, when Jungkook slips his hand onto your thigh under the table.

You’re laughing at a story Namjoon is telling about his first trial out of school, embarrassing in the moment, but hilarious in hindsight.

“Hey, hey, if it isn’t Rap Monster!” 

“Oh no.” Namjoon cringes as he twists to see who called out. 

Rap Monster? You try not to laugh as you exchange confused looks with Jungkook. 

“Who’s that?” asks Jungkook. 

“My past,” says Namjoon with a rueful smile. He gets up to greet the newcomer, a lean brunette with all the attitude of a carefree frat boy. 

“Hey man, how’s it going?” The man extends a hand out in a handshake.

“Hey Jackson. All good man.” Namjoon takes it and pulls him into a one-armed hug. “These are my colleagues.” He introduces you and Jungkook. “This guy was my freshman year roommate in college and we went to law school together.” 

“Oh, the stories I could tell…”

“Please tell us about Rap Monster,” you say. 

Jackson lets out a loud laugh. “Believe it or not, Namjoon was an underground rapper back in the day.” 

“No way.” 

“You never mentioned that!” says Jungkook. 

“With a name like Rap Monster, I’d like to leave that in my past.” 

“I’ll send you a link on YouTube,” says Jackson in a stage whisper, winking dramatically. He turns to Namjoon. “You should have told me you were in town for work! We haven’t caught up in ages.” 

“Big case. Took up all my spare brainpower, you know?” 

“Last big case, then? Rumor mill says you’re moving on.” 

You go cold. Namjoon’s eyes go wide, and he tries to get Jackson to stop talking, but Jackson keeps talking, unaware. You and Jungkook look at each other, then back at Namjoon, who looks like he’s watching a train wreck in slow motion. 

“What’s that all about, bro? Jumping ship just as we all thought you were about to make partner at Bang & Associates.” 

“You’re leaving?” 

A/N 2: Sorry for the cliffhanger 😘 Next installment coming soon, I promise! I'd love to hear from you if you have any comments!

©sowoozoo-7 2024

Please do not copy or repost. I do not crosspost anywhere else.

[letstrythisout4]

I was rly wandering, if you write one-shots. And if you actually do, can you write one Ron x female reader, where the reader is transferee from Beauxbatons and Ron literally drools over her, but after few months he grows balls to ask her out and she accepts, but NO drama!! But if you don’t write this kind of stuff or don’t take requests, it’s totally fine!

Authors note: this was cute. though i will say ron may be a littlle out of character just a bit boys in love idk If anyone has any other requests please send them in, they provide me fuel and thank you so much to the anon that requested this.

You have to be the most beautiful girl Ron has ever seen. 

Something about the way you are able to laugh so easily with the twins and then turn around to debate with Hermione about the merits of mincing versus chopping Asphodel roots. Something about the way you were so polite with Sprout. The way you would just stare at the people who made fun of your accent, refusing to give them a response. The way you were just casually kind. The way you explained things to him without making him feel stupid. The way you laughed. The way your accent came through. The way-

The first time he met you he stuttered through his name, much to the amusement of his fellow Gryffindor boys. He couldn’t really make eye contact with you, always looking just to the left or right to give the illusion that he was. Though he had a feeling it wasn’t very convincing. 

A blessing and a curse came later when Professor Sprout announced they’d be doing a partner project in Herbology. Before Ron could turn to ask Harry to be partners, he felt someone tap his shoulder. He turned to see you, “Do you want to work together?” 

Ron can’t remember what he said -if anything- all that he knew is that later that day he was walking to the common room to play Wizard's Chess with Seamus before you waved him into the library. He followed you to a table and sat down in a chair beside you as you pulled out notes from your bag. “I already have an idea of what we can do. Do you mind?” you asked.

Ron shook his head silently and watched as you beamed at him. Ignoring the feeling that his chest was going to collapse into itself, he tried his best to pay attention to you as you explained that you had done a similar project at Beauxbaton and that it’d just be simpler if you both just used your previous work as a foundation.

The project was massive and over the course of several months the two of you chipped away at it piece by piece. The moments where he wasn’t actively spending time with you, he was thinking about the next time you’d be working together. On more than one occasion did Harry or Hermione have to remind him to blink as he watched you from a distance. 

He would watch as you sat, slouching in your seat was you read the text McGonagall had assigned for the end of class. He took in the way the torch light hit your skin and they way your mouth was just slightly opened and- “THUD” Ron jumped slightly in shock as he looked to where the noise came from. McGonagall had dropped a textbook just behind him, “Do you mind grabbing that for me, Mr. Weasley?” she asked, not really asking, with a knowing look on her face. Ron handed it to her without a word as his face turned pink. He turned to finally start his reading before casting one last look at you-

You made eye contact and smiled at him. He gave a tight smile back feeling his face turn fully red before ducking his head down to stare blankly at the textbooks pages. “Enough is enough.” he muttered to himself.

Once the class was dismissed he practically ran out of the room and down to the kitchen where he got to work. When it came time to meet at your table in the library, you arrived to find Ron already there. The boy you had grown familiar with was holding a singular flower and some candy. Both of which were your favorites  that you had offhandedly mentioned over the course of the months spent at that table. 

“Is there- Can I-” the boy struggled before finally saying, “Can I please take you out? On a date?”

You smiled softly taking in how his leg bounced under the table, “Of course.” you said simply, kissing his cheek watching with great amusement as he blushed and grinned.

[0blobthefish0]

Could you do a part 3 for One last time? (Preferably happy end)

amelia shepherd masterlist | main masterlist

Part 1, Part 2

One Last Time Part 3

Amelia Shepherd x Female Raeder 3,268 words

You had been fired. Fired from your corporate job, the awkward walk with a box full of your stuff in your hands - only to be seen in movies - was real and you were embarrassed beyond belief. In all fairness you hadn't been fired, you had been cut, but it might as well have been the same thing; you were still without a job.

Your friend stared at you with a frown as she watched you let out another dramatic sigh over the situation you had found yourself in. The two of you had already talked about how unhappy your previous job had made you: the endless hours, the never changing days, the strict dress code and the entitled men. God, you never wanted to go back into a job like that ever again.

"Babysit." Your friend blurted out. You turned your head and raised a singular brow at her that read the word 'really?' "Don't look at me like that, Isaac loves you."

"He fell out of a tree." You dead-panned which made her laugh, but you serious what if Isaac hadn't been so lucky?

"Eh- it was his own fault. Kids are tough." She shrugged as she took a sip of her wine. "You've been there ever since Isaac was born, helping where you could even before his dad left." She stood up and patted your knee, "Think about it, I think you'd do great." She told you as she walked off into the kitchen.

That night you had spent your time researching, and the more that you had, the more that the thought of babysitting became no longer just a thought but something tangible - something truly obtainable. Over the course of a few months, you had begun your journey - training the skills you'd need for your new job. And then you had started your first, official, babysitting job; and you loved it. Every day was something new, it was exciting, bringing something into your life that you hadn't realised had even left - joy. Only after a few months of servicing the standard babysitting, you had decided to switch to a company that focused on providing for those who had more taxing jobs: firefighters, entrepreneurs, paramedics, those who have to travel for work and, of course, surgeons, nurses and doctors.

You checked once again that you had the correct address and pressed a finger to the doorbell; you heard a dull clatter and then the click-clacking of heels on a hard floor before the door swung open. A tall, red-headed woman stood in front of you, a slightly stressed smile on her face as she quickly welcomed you in. Addison Montgomery. You had met before, for your compatibility test, a key part in the hiring process - especially when you'd be spending a lot more time with her son than the regular babysitter. The second you had met Henry, you fell in love with him. So young, but already had such a big character.

"Henry's sleeping right now, just in that room over there, all of his things are in here, there's food in the fridge if you wanna cook or there's money if you'd like to order something," Addison said hurriedly as she gave you a very quick tour of the ground floor of the ocean-side house. "Again, I'm so sorry to call you so late, it's just that I got paged and-" she let out a nervous laugh and tucked her hair behind her ears.

"It's no problem, it is my job after all," you replied and sent her a comforting smile as you followed her to the door. "Now, you should really get going, you have nothing to worry about. I can even send updates if you'd like?" You offered, she was a first-time mum, leaving your child in the care of somebody else was stressful, especially the first time around.

"That'd be perfect, really, I cannot thank you enough." Her eyes flicked to her watch and she stepped outside her door, "okay thank you so, so much, I have to go." You lingered by the door as she ran toward her door, and just as you were about to turn away you heard her shout. "Another person lives here too, just so you don't freak out or anything if she does come home!" You gave her a thumbs up as she rolled up the window and sped off into the night.

▫▫▫

"ADDISON!" Amelia shouted as she stood in front of the open fridge, a hand on each door, as she eyed a tub of leftover pasta.

"Gosh, I'm right here," Addison lightly scolded as she rounded the corner into the kitchen. Amelia looked over her shoulder sheepishly and gave her an apologetic smile.

"Can I eat this?" She questioned holding up the tub.

"Yeah," Addison replied with a wave of her hand as she put away Henry's toys that were littered across the floor. Amelia scooped out a portion into her bowl before pushing it into the microwave, almost instantly a divine smell wafted out from behind the door as it heated up her meal. As Amelia shovelled a forkful into her mouth she let out a delighted hum.

"God, this is amazing, who cooked this?" She gasped as she pushed more into her mouth. "Cause it definitely wasn't you." Addison rolled her eyes as she shook her head in reply to Amelia's stab at her.

"Why do you say it like I can't cook?" Addison huffed to which Amelia only raised a brow. "The new babysitter cooked it last night, she's really good with Henry, she's perfect honestly. I was so glad she was able to come on such short notice yesterday."

"Well, you should give her a raise because this," she pointed at the pasta with her fork, "is art." As Amelia swallowed another forkful, she couldn't help but feel a sense of nostalgia; little did she know that, not even twelve hours earlier, you had been dancing around the kitchen singing to Henry as you chopped up a few tomatoes.

▫▫▫

It had been a month after your first night with Henry and Addison couldn't be happier- you were a big help, always being available for when she was suddenly called in for an emergency. Amelia, however, was yet to meet Addison's god-sent babysitter.

You pushed the key into the lock and quickly shut the door behind you. Addison wasn't home; she had called you saying that she was needed at the hospital and to let yourself in as she wasn't going to be there because her sister was home. You hang your coat on the rack before making your way to Henry's room to check on him, the steady pitter-patter of the shower sounded throughout the house, a telltale sign that somebody else was here. Henry was sleeping soundly and so you started on cleaning the kitchen in preparation of cooking Addison's request for that night.

Amelia stepped out of the shower, her hair wet as she wrapped a towel around herself and tiptoed outside of the bathroom. However, she stopped dead in her tracks when her eyes landed on a door. Just a door, it had been there when she got in and it was there now as she was stepping out. Her brows furrowed as she stared at it. Though still ajar, the door was less ajar than she had remembered. Now, if Amelia hadn't known that she was alone she wouldn't have given it a second thought. But she did and she grew more nervous as each second went by. A clang echoed from downstairs and Amelia felt her heartbeat quicken.

With caution, Amelia stepped down the stairs and peeked through the bannisters for a glimpse of the intruder, but saw nothing. With a deep, soundless, breath, she slinked down the remainder of the stairs and tip-toed her way through the corridor, the clanging getting louder. She saw movement from the corner of her eye and froze. One second passed and then another, stretching for much longer than she thought was possible before a figure shot though the air and smashed into the window, causing Amelia to jump backward.

A bird. Amelia felt herself relax, the towel slacking around her shoulders. After a few more seconds, she saw as the poor bird picked itself up from the floor and hurtled, once again, full force at the window, wincing as she heard the familiar crash and thump. She needed a towel in order to help the bird out and so she started for the kitchen. Little did she know that you were in there, recovering from being 'attacked' by the bird and just about to grab the hand towel from the rack, edging closer and closer to each other without evening knowing it.

Amelia rounded the corner; and let out a frightened shout. Clasping a hand over her chest as she heaved in oxygen. "Jesus fuck!"

"Amelia?" You almost shouted, but there was really no need - you knew that voice anywhere.

"Y/n!" She gaped in shock causing her hand to slip on its hold on the towel ever so slightly. You felt your cheeks reddening at her appearance; damp hair, bright eyes and glowing skin which was only covered by a small towel.

"I um, yeah, what-" your eyes widened and pointed blindly with your thumb behind you- "Addie." Your realisation hit you like a brick, you were working for the Addison, the same Addison that was Amelia's found sister. You watched as Amelia nodded her head that same pout on her lips that she always did, some things never changed.

"You're the babysitter," Amelia hummed as she came to her own revelation. Comically, Henry's cries sounded throughout the kitchen from the monitor and you quickly excused yourself and disappeared, not before Amelia stole a quick look at you leaving. A small smile overcoming her lips before it quickly fell with the widening of her blue eyes.

▫▫▫

Time could not move more quickly; Henry was already a year old and you and Amelia had been dancing around each other for many months. As she became more comfortable around you, you couldn't help but recognise more of her old self; the small habits, the little mannerisms and the quick facial expressions. God, you felt like a teenager again. Falling for the same person.

You fell back onto the sofa with an exhausted sigh - getting Henry down was proving much harder now that he had the physical ability to explore, it being all that he wanted to do - and grabbed the remote from the coffee table. As you flicked through the endless number of films and shows you heard keys to the front door jingle before it cracked open. Heavy boots echoed throughout the silent room, only lit by the light from the television, as they moved closer. You already knew who it was; you could pick her out in a room, blind.

"Y/n!" She greeted with her wide grin as she threw her keys onto the counter.

"How was work?" You questioned as she passed you, kicking off her shoes and falling back onto the sofa next to you. So close her thigh was pressed up against yours, the heat of her skin blooming across yours causing your cheeks to burn ever so slightly.

"It was alright, nothing too special, just one aneurysm after the other," she mumbled before reaching over you to grab a handful of crisps. "What're we watching?" She nodded, mouth full, toward the screen.

"Oh-" you let out, quickly directing your attention away from her, "nothing yet." You felt Amelia turn to you, raising a brow and taking the remote from you, and before you could protest, music sounded throughout the room. "What's this?"

"Something good," she replied, eyes already glued to the screen, and you couldn't help the smile pulling at the corners of your lips before turning to stare at the same screen.

Your skin was burning - not like how it does when it touches something just out of the oven, but more as if you had been struck by lightning. You felt static. Amelia had inched further, cuddling into your side as your hand rested on her waist; how it happened? You didn't know. The scene displayed in front of you was serene, romantic, like a field of wildflowers and your skin was tingly - like the feeling of holding something that was about to fall. You felt her shift softly beside you and you turned your head, only for your breath to hitch, her blue eyes already on yours. You searched her eyes, as music began to play, and watched intently as they flicked to your lips. You mirrored her movements. Heart steadily picking up speed. Lup-dup. Her tongue poked out to wet her bottom lip. Lup-dup. You did the same. Lup-dup. Your eyes connected; and she began to lean in. Lup-dup, lup-dup. Your hand pulled her in further and her fingers lightly touched your collar bone. Lup-dup, lup-dup, lup-dup. Her soft lips met yours, your eyes fluttered closed, and the two of you moved rhythmically like a song remembered only once it begins to play. Her hands feeling across the top of your chest before she found purchase on your shoulders as she unconsciously swung a leg over your lap to straddle you.

And then the two of you jolted away. Henry's cries blaring through the room. Cutting sharply through your moment. Her chest heaved in time with yours as she stared down at you with her pupil-blown eyes. You swallowed nervously and Henry let out his second wave of screams.

Soundlessly, Amelia slid off of your lap and sat cross-legged on the sofa as she watched you send her a nervous smile and hurriedly make your way up to the baby. Leaving her picking at her pink, swollen lips - courtesy of you - with a shit-eating grin on her face.

You didn't see Amelia until a week later when you were pushed into a storage cupboard.

"There's a special thing happening at mummy's work today and you get to meet all of her friend's kids," you answered Henry's question as you pulled his top over his head. "You're gonna make a ton of new friends today, Henry." You promised him before you scooped him up in your arm and swung his bag onto your other shoulder.

You hear the sound of a loud horn come from outside and you quickly rushed down the stairs and out the door to see the Uber that you had asked for waiting just outside the house. You gave Henry his dummy after you strapped him securely into the back seat, before climbing into the passenger's side as you apologised for being late.

After a few moments of awkward silence - only filled by the low rumble of the engine and the constant noise of the outdoors - the driver, John, turned to you. You gave him a quick smile as he found the words to say, before he shook his head and continued the journey just as it had started.

You saw the hospital come into view and you quickly checked the time only for your eyes to widen, Addison was going to kill you. As soon as the car rolled to a stop you leapt out of the passenger door and pulled open the back door to unclip Henry from the seat and pull him up into you. "Thank you! Wait-" you started as you began to rummage through the pockets in your trousers, "here." You pushed a note into the man's hand and you moved to close the door.

"Is he yours?" The driver questioned, pausing you from closing the door fully. You could hear the judgement in his voice; you looked younger than you were, but to have that firsthand account of prejudice just because you had a baby with you - you couldn't believe it.

"No." You said bluntly with a scowl and closed the door shut, harder than you normally would, and turned forcefully on your heel into the hospital. Addison was the first person to greet you, taking Henry from your arms, before she guided you to the nursery quickly.

"Where have you been, Y/n?" She questioned your tardiness.

"I know, I know, I'm sorry! But I couldn't find Henry's dummy this morning and he did not want to wear his clothes today. And! That Uber driver definitely thought I was Henry's mother and was definitely judging me for it. I could see it in that man's eyes, y'know?" You rambled as you skipped every other step just to catch up with her.

Addison sent you a sad smile and then she was pushing through the door to the nursery. Your mood instantly brightened, it was as if a paint factory had exploded; the kids were dipping their hands and feet into paint and pressing them into the white walls - with the help of an adult of course.

"Addison, I'll just put the bags here and be in my way," you walked to the collection of bags in the corner and squatted down as you checked that Henry had everything he needed.

"You can stay if you'd like," Addison urged. "You know that Henry adores you," she frowned as she made Henry look at you."

"Awwh I'm really sorry, Henry, but I've got something nice in the oven." You looked over to Addison, "Your favourite," and you watched as her face lit up as she hummed at the thought.

"Okay, fine, say bye-bye to Y/n," she told him as she moved his hand to wave goodbye. You let out a wide grin as you said your goodbyes and left the nursery.

You paused. Mentally bashing yourself for not looking around as you had previously followed Addison through the hospital. You squinted, telling yourself that you did in fact know the way before taking one step after the other.

You were lost. Definitely lost. And where was everyone? Weren't you in a hospital? You let out a deep breath before continuing on your journey, when a familiar figure came from behind a corner.

"Amelia!" You sighed happily as you began to move to her side. She looked serious and you slowed down slightly, but she was still coming closer.

"Hi," she began when she was close enough to put a hand on your back and guide you, quite forcefully you'll admit, into a storage cupboard. The door closed behind her.

"Woah! What, hello?" Your eyebrows furrowed as your eyes searched Amelia for answers.

"Can we talk?" She sounded so serious and you instantly zipped your mouth shut and nodded your head. "We kissed," you nodded your head again, "I really like you and if you want to- I'd really like to try again. I've changed, I promise."

Amelia was picking at her fingers as a smile grew on your face. "Amelia, I really like you too and I'd love if we tried again." Amelia's head shot up and her blue eyes bore into yours.

"Really?" And you let out a laugh as you pulled her closer.

"Yes, really. Of course, really." You smiled and Amelia pressed her lips to your own in a sweet kiss. The smile on your face mirrored by her, until your face fell.

"Shit."

Let's just say that Addison's muffins were definitely burnt to a crisp. However, you and Amelia had lots of fun remaking them: teaching her the recipe, (her) making a mess, dancing to music and stealing kisses in between breaks. The two of you were going to be just fine.

[magicbystarlight]

Chapter One: Visitation

Prologue

Summary: You catch the eyes of three ghastly figures. If only you knew before it was too late.

Warnings: 18+, creepy behavior. Dark series with parts that will include rape/noncon as well as other explicit and violent triggers. Heavy religious themes. All parts will be tagged accordingly. Minors DNI.

Word Count: 981

“What came first, preacher? The sinner or their sin?”

“How long do you think you’ll be out there?”

Erica’s voice came out through hissed static in the receiver. You hoped the horrible reception was connected to the rain and constant overcast sky but, given the state of the rest of the town, you doubted there would be much improvement on a clear day. 

“I’ve got about two months of vacation saved up, but I don’t think I could be in this place longer than a couple weeks.”

“Oh, it can’t be that bad.”

“The deadbolt doesn't even work. It's stuck or something. So I'm screwed if some killer rolls through town. And the roads here aren't even roads, it’s all dirt and gravel. What's worse is that the closest Starbucks is forty minutes out of town.” 

“Oh yeah,” she laughed, “a place without a Starbucks is a far bigger crime than you not having a lock on your door. Heaven forbid you have to get a coffee anywhere else or, you know, make it yourself.”

You snorted, leaning against the old fridge. “I prefer to overpay for my bean water, thanks.” 

“Yeah, well, then you better get started on the house, huh? Unless you want to spend an arm and leg on gas for that piece of junk.”

“It’s not that bad —”

You cut off as you looked out the window to the beat up thing, surprised to find it wasn’t the last car on the gravel driveway. A decades old police car—older than even Grandpa's truck—with a singular red light stuck to the top sat behind it. A man wearing an equally outdated hat and a shirt tucked under his overhanging stomach was making his way up the gravel driveway towards the house. Was the town really that strapped for cash? As if he could feel your stare, his attention turned to the window. A smile pulled onto his face as he waved.

Erica’s annoyed “Hello?” brought you back to the phone you were clutching. Averting your eyes, you shifted out of the sight of the window.

“Sorry, I think I’m gonna have to call you back. Some cop showed up.”

Her annoyance vanished as she asked, “Do you want me to stay on the phone?”

“No…no,” you said, despite the tightness crawling up your throat. Memories of one too many bad interactions with a cop stirring in your mind. “He seems…friendly.”

“I'm sure he’s a very friendly backwoods cop,” she said with a disbelieving snort. “Call me back when he’s gone, alright?”

“Yeah, I will,” you agreed, hearing the wooden steps creak outside. Ending the call after a quick goodbye, you waited until you heard two knocks echoing against the front door.

The cop was handsome. Older and overweight, sure, but undeniably handsome. His eyes must have been the cause of the overcast sky, the cerulean stolen by irises far too enchanting to belong to some small town cop. “Sorry to bother you, ma’am,” he said, tipping his hat. “The Reverend mentioned you got into town yesterday and I wanted to come by and pay my condolences.”

Reverend John hadn't mentioned anything about that to you. “Oh, thank you, um?”

“Sheriff Bodecker.” He held out his hand, one you were surprised to find freezing cold. “But a pretty thing like you can call me Lee.”

"Right, thank you, Lee."

"Your grandfather was a good man. Never caused no trouble, kept to himself." His playful smirk felt at odds with a man paying his respects for the departed. "Real shame he was all alone when it happened." 

You pulled your hand back from his, his handshake far too long and words far too harsh for his honeyed voice. "We'd been trying to get him to go to a nursing home closer to us," you rush out defensively. You had been trying to convince him. No one else in the family seemed to care that Grandpa had been getting to the age where he had trouble taking care of himself. By the state of the house, it had gotten worse since Dad had been around the year before. Or, more likely, Dad hadn't wanted to spend the money to get him the help he needed and downplayed how bad it was.

"Those old folks' homes are so impersonal. Like living at the hospital.” He adjusted his belt, eyeing you up in a way that made you pull your cardigan closed. “Though if the nurses were as pretty as you, suppose it wouldn’t be so bad.”

“Right…” The interaction had taken a nosedive. Why were men such men? “Well, thanks for, um, stopping by. Appreciate it. But I’ve really gotta start getting this place sorted. There's a lot of stuff to do to go through."

He licked his lips. “You know if you need another pair of hands, I'm more than happy to help. A girl like you shouldn't have to do any heavy lifting.”

The cold fast food that had served as a poor replacement of breakfast bubbled unhappily in your stomach. Handsome as he may be, something felt off. Not quite right. “I'll keep that in mind,” you lied, grabbing the edge of the door, “but I’m just going through things for now.”

“Well, if you need anything at all, you can always give the Reverend a call. He'll get back to me faster than any dispatch I've seen..”

“Of course." The door already half-way shut before you called out, "Have a good day, sheriff.”

“You too ma’am,” he said, stepping back and tipping his hat again. "I look forward to seeing you again."

You stood at the door unmoving as you listened to his slow, retreating footsteps that crunched through the gravel. You waited for some sound of a creaking metal door. To hear an old engine roar to life. Tires against the rocks. Minutes passed and nothing. 

But when you peaked through the window, he was gone.

Dark!All Taglist: @bamboozledflamplant @my-current-fandom-is @squishytomatoes @theresa-b

[coopigeoncoo]

The 3-Cs of 3-A, Chapter 1: The World Turns Upside Down

Chapter Links: Next

Pairing: Eventual Bakugou Katsuki x Fem Reader (it's a very long way off though)

Rating: Explicit. 18+

Tags: Mineta Redemption, Fem Reader, AFAB Reader, Sexual Harassment, Abusive Parenting, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Statutory Rape, Dubious Consent, Underage Sex, Underage Drinking, Domestic Violence, Blood and Injury

Tags are subject to change as story develops.

---

Mineta Minoru is a perverted misogynist whose antics should have had him expelled from UA long ago.

But he wasn’t.

And now it’s your job to fix him.

May God have mercy on your soul.

–-- “Well then, I’ll leave myself in your capable hands,” Mineta purred before popping open the top two buttons on his shirt, sending you a coy look from under his lashes. “Mold me into the perfect hero, Pygmalion!  Make me your Galatea!” he screamed as he ripped open his shirt, buttons flying haphazardly through the air and pinging off the walls and floor.  You throw your arms up to cover your eyes, as though blinded by the pale skin of his belly.  

“Why do you always have to make this weird?” you moan forlornly, already bending down to search along the floor for the missing buttons.  

---

Continue Reading below, or follow the link to Ao3!

Chapter 1: The World Turns Upside Down

In which you make a grave error and start a chain reaction that changes life as you know it.

The only thing you were the best at was trying your best, and honestly, that was pretty darn good.

You had never been given a solo in band class, but the only mistakes you made while playing were small and easily drowned out by the enthusiastic French horn player that sat next to you. Homework assignments were always turned in fully completed, on time, with legible penmanship, but you never managed to break the top 30 academic rankings at your school. Your brief stint as a field hockey player ended with you having never scored a goal despite your team making it to the playoffs.

You rose to all the challenges you were given and performed admirably, but you never truly excelled at anything. You did well and you supposed that was well enough.

It was this long and unwavering history of academic adequacy that led you to make what was ultimately, in retrospect, the worst decision of your young life.

Two options were set before you and neither of them were particularly appealing.

The first was an exhaustively long and detailed research paper on the rise of commercialized hero agencies that spanned from the initial onset of Quirks until today. The second was the same project all of your future classmates had been assigned a week prior: building and maintaining a mock hero agency for the remainder of the school year. Research had never been your strong suit and the idea of working on a singular paper for eight months straight was one of the worst ways you could imagine spending your senior year.

"I think," you murmured quietly, fiddling with the hem of your shirt. " I think I would like to attempt the hero project, Sir."

Since this was the first time you had met the Principal of your new school you were woefully unaware of the horrors that awaited when Nezu's eyes twinkled just so, and your hesitant acceptance set of a shimmer in his beady eyes that would have any experienced member of his staff revising the resignation letters they all had saved on their desktops for easy access.

"Excellent!" He proclaimed cheerily, sharp teeth bared in an unnerving smile as he reached into his desk and withdrew a stack of files. "Most excellent indeed! I'll provide you with all the pertinent records and files for your project. I'm looking forward to seeing what your fresh perspective will bring to the table with no inherited biases!"

"Biases? What biases?" you asked warily.

"Nothing to worry yourself over!,” Nezu assured you as he continued to add to the file stack. “I can tell by your academic record that you're a hard worker no matter how challenging the assignment! Taking on something of this magnitude will really set you apart from your peers,” Nezu said as he added a collection of slim binders on top of the file stack.

"Ah, is that okay though? I'm transferring in during my third year. The rest of my class has way more experience. One of them will probably be a better choice to handle a…more challenging project?" you questioned, becoming increasingly nervous and uncertain as the stack of files continued to grow.

"Nonsense! You're a clever girl, you'll be fine. Besides, all of them already refused to do this. Well, except that one boy. Utada, I believe? He received this assignment originally," Nezu murmured, tapping a clawed finger to his chin gently and his other hand shuffled papers on his desk about into a messy pile before clipping it together and depositing it onto the towering stack of paper between you.

"Oh! Will I be working together with him, then? Like a group project?" you sighed, relieved that you would have a partner to work through this monstrous assignment with.

"Work with who? Utada? Oh, heavens no! He dropped out. Purely coincidental, I'm sure, and not at all related to this project. Now, let's finish up the rest of your transfer paperwork, shall we?"

A weak smile wobbled across your face as you nodded, worried about the workload but knowing you didn't really have much of a choice but to accept.  UA was a high-level, competitive school.  You knew going in that the course work was going to be more challenging than your previous school, but there was no way they would assign anything too difficult, right?

Your newly found confidence immediately faltered as Nezu pushed the towering stack of paper and office supplies across the desk towards you.

“This information should be sufficient to get you started. Make sure to let your homeroom teacher know if there is anything missing and we’ll make arrangements to get it to you. Best of luck!”

Knowing a dismissal when you heard one, you gathered up the stack of files into your arms and carefully maneuvered your way out of the office, unaware of the principal's feral grin that lasted long after you bumped the door closed with your hip.

The project, in theory, was simple: build a hero agency from the ground up. It's the perfect assignment for the Business Course students because it would very likely mirror what awaited them in the professional world once they graduated; working with a hero, constructing an image, supporting the brand, and keeping the budget in line. It was a culmination of two years of accrued knowledge put to the test.

Two years of knowledge that you didn't possess.

Transferring into any program during your final year was already going to be a nightmare, but the specialized and hero-focused curriculum of UA didn't mesh with your previous school's classes as well as you'd hoped. Or at all, really. You didn’t know what got covered in the second year math class 'Deconstructing Destruction: Calculating the Cost of Replacing Public Works' but you had a sneaking suspicion it was vastly different from your Probability and Statistics course.

“Welp,” you sighed as you took in the mountain of paperwork stacked on top of your desk “Time to get to work.”

The syllabus was at the top of the stack and you managed to make it a full thirty pages in before you started hyperventilating. You weren't even halfway through the project outline and every bullet point had at least six additional bullet points underneath it. The breadth and depth of this project was unreal and you had no idea how you were going to manage it.

You set a cellphone timer for ten minutes and managed to work in two full existential crises before the alarm sounded. After that, you took a series of calming breaths and began collating.

Files were broken up by individual assignment, hole punched, and placed neatly into three ring binders with color coded sticky tabs that you could use to quickly access different sections. Due dates were logged in your agenda and calendar reminders were added to your cell phone. It took you hours to organize the entire towering project outline. The satisfaction you felt as you stared at the collection of pristine and orderly binders must be what new parents felt when holding their child for the first time; overwhelming pride and exhaustion in equal measure.

Only one file remained on your desk; the student record for the hero in training that you'd be building an agency for. You sat down in your desk chair, cracked your knuckles, and opened the file to the first page.

"Alright, Mineta Minoru! Let's see what you've got, hero!"

"Oh God," you sobbed into your hands. "He's awful."

[brooklynislandgirl]

They are in Henry's office. It is a cold Saturday in Absaroka county and Henry has built a fire in both stoves, and the one in his office pumps out enough heat that he has rolled up his sleeves. He knows how often Beth watches his arms and hands when he works. It is flattering to know that she desires him.

He just finished putting in his order for the week and now his attention turns to Beth where she is sitting across from him. "Come here please."

He waits for her to round the desk, drawing her into his arms and setting her on his lap. He does not get to hold her like this often enough.

"I would like to take you to my favorite place. It is a day's ride away, inaccessible from the road. We will have to camp. I want to show you the place I go to when I need to refocus myself. I would like it if you joined me."

And Way Down We Go || Accepting One of the things Beth learned the hard way growing up is how to be fully present in any singular space and to take up no room at all, whether that was physically or verbally. She watches as he builds the fires that will sink into her skin, taking the ache out of her bones, promise her the kiss of something close to normal. He does not know the gift he gives, any more than she can begin to thank him. Over the top of her phone where she has books loaded for these sorts of times when he needs to focus, she spies his forearms as he bears them for his comfort and tries not to think of the subtle flirtation there. Smooth skin, dappled by sun and freckles.Strong veins and tendons, wiry muscles that do not paint the portrait of his strength accurately. Hands that nurture as much as they protect. Hands that have known all aspects of life. Bruised knuckles too, she notes but doesn't ask. Not yet. Eventually he bids her join him and she bookmarks the chapter mid-sentence. Something she wouldn't do for just anyone.

‘Very soon we’ll have gold enough and more to pave the floors of the house,’ her husband replied. For several months he worked hard to demonstrate the truth of his idea. He explored every inch of the region, even the riverbed, dragging the two iron ingots along and reciting Melquíades’ incantation aloud. She sits in lap demurely, almost side-saddle, her toes brushing the floor. She lays her head against his shoulder, the bridge of her nose settling itself against his pulse. She breathes him in. Something earthy, a little salt, his soap. Smoke from a smudge that settles into her like the richest wine, the finest meal. She could live here the rest of her days and be blissfully content. Pressed there she feels his voice almost as well as she hears him and between the subtle vibrations and the way Henry has always carefully enunciated his every word from the moment she met him, she doesn't have trouble understanding what he says. "An' I would consider dat a privilege, and joy t' spend dat time wi' you.But only if you promise dat I won' be taking away anyt'ing by going. Sacred places are just dat, I know it in my bones. But yes. Yes, any time you wanna, jus' say da word." She smiles against him. Raises a hand to cup his cheek, her thumb grazing the cheekbone under the eye with his blood-mote.

[sm-writes-chaos]

Gods in Hearts of Fire

This post explains God's that I have thought of so far, I will edit as I think of more.

Including their calendar and how the seasons work with time.

First God: Ezerk, creator of life

Ezerk is their main God. The one who crafted the trees and mixed the seas. She’s the one who painted the leaves patterns, sculpted the snowflakes designs, carefully crafted every animal, and everything else in life as we know it. 

She was born from a tiny light, a light that shone in a newfound darkness. The light grew and grew until it exploded into Ezerk herself. A flowing symbol of light that no one has laid eyes upon, for she is so bright that you would not be able to see her. 

Her light feeds life, blooming the flowers, and growing the trees. When it is time for a life to pass on to Heaven, called Junnic (June-iss), a piece of her light breaks off and carries that life to Junnic. When a life is born, a piece of light is brought back to her. Thus keeping herself alive. 

However, when a life is pulled into hell, called Korro (core-o), that light can never be brought back during a birth. In times of great unrest like the Season Dragon War, Ezerk becomes sick and life on Alias doesn’t thrive as it usually does.

She is often depicted as the sun or sun-like. Some depict her as a woman with a long dress made of light, fewer some depict her as always pregnant with life.

--

Second God: Erdue (err-due), creator of time and balancer of seasons

Erdue is the daughter of Ezerk. The dragons were in a constant war of winter and summer, and were both growing tired of having no time to sleep. So Erdue gave them set amount of time to awake and sleep.

She created the six months, called Erisis (airy-siz, plural). Three for summer, three for winter. Two weeks between the shift from summer to winter is called the 'shift period.' A time where the lines between summer and winter are blurred as the fire dragon starts to drift to sleep and the winter dragon begins to awake.

She oversees the shift and keeps the Erisis and dragons in balance making sure they never cause destruction again.

This is basically what their calendars look like, they're all vertical like this. Each Eris (air-ees, singular) has 15 days.

Erdue is often depicted as a young girl and always by Ezerk's side. She is associated with the colors of summer and winter, those being orange and blue respectively.

--

Third God: Halrik (hall-reek), overseer and controller of Korro

In the darkness when Ezerk was born from a light, Halrik came from her shadow. Since then being attracted and tied to darkness he often hid himself away from Ezerk, who was too bright for his liking. Ezerk didn't like his distaste for the light and tried to show him how wonderful it was.

He was so taken aback by the light that he flew down into the darkest darkness he'd ever seen. He soon found his way into Korro, a place that was just to his liking.

He soon took control and has been overseeing it ever since. Whenever Ezerk's light follows someone down into Korro he steals it and hides it away, being bitter against Ezerk and not wanting the light to be near him.

He is often depicted as a shadow, often behind Ezerk hunched over in bitterness. Dark blues and blacks are associated with him.

--

The overseers, the first true God’s: Thanas and Thonar, keepers of balance and creators of all opposites

In a void of darkness two beings shifted into consciousness. They were born twins, Thanas and Thonar, they were complete opposites. The void was unbalanced and unstable, it needed something to balance out the darkness, in which Thanas was created to keep that balance. Though her light was too strong for the darkness, so Thonar was needed to balance out the darkness's side. 

Thanas was overjoyed to be able to do what she pleased and would spend eternities perfecting her ‘projects.’ Thonar was forced to follow along and create his own things in order to not throw off the balance again.

Thanas would create life, and in turn Thonar would create death. And so the cycle continued and we got the polar opposites of the world. 

Humans and beasts.

Heaven and hell. (AKA Junnic and Korro)

Ezerk and Halrik.

This is how the two smaller main Gods were created, Ezerk from Thanas’ light, and Halrik from Thonar’s darkness.

They are always depicted together, often in swirling patterns as they intertwine in knots, unable to escape the other. Forced to keep a balance forever. 

Thanas is depicted with soft yellow colors, while Thonar is depicted with harsh black colors.

Many do not remember these two despite their importance, believing Ezerk created life when she is merely the one who feeds it and keeps everything alive.

--

@delusionisaplace

[sissytobitch10seconds]

Painted Pain

Fandom: The Umbrella Academy

Summary: The first couple year of his adult life were really rough. Klaus had found himself living on the streets and addicted to more substances that he could name. It had only taken him turning twenty to realize that this was't worth it. He had cleaned up and then got himself an apprenticeship with a tattoo artist. That's not to say his life wasn't still difficult, what with all the ghosts constantly screaming at him. At twenty five, he's finally got his life together and he's at peace with that. But then all it takes is a very familiar face walking into his parlor to make him start wondering if he's really okay after all.

Warnings: Mentions of self harm, mentions of child abuse, and mentions of past substance abuse

Word Count: 9,556

Ship(s): Viktor Hargreeves/Klaus Hargreeves

Archive link!

A/N: I fell so absolutely in love with this world that I've made and I'm so excited to finally be able to share it with you all! I hope that you like it. Stay sissy and bitchy everyone &lt;3

The sound of the front door shutting alerted him to the presence of a new person in the shop. He glanced up from the sandwich that he had been shoving into his mouth. He usually tried to give himself a solid half hour between appointments. He did this so that he could not only go a little bit over without having a ton of issues but so that he could give himself a little bit of time to rest. That had gone out of the window as soon as Clarisse had her baby before her due date, though. He didn’t blame her for wanting to spend time with her baby in the slightest because he knew that he’d want to do the same thing if he was in her shoes. Her being out of the office when she had appointments scheduled did mean that he had to offer to do some of her clients that were willing to have their work done by him and be squeezed around his other appointments.

He had a guest artist come and work at the shop during the first week to help ease up some of the burden, but then Derrek had to leave too so now the only person in the shop was Klaus. About a fourth of the clients had canceled their appointments entirely so that they could wait for Clarisse to come back, but the others had all decided they were fine with Klaus doing it. 

That meant that he was drowning in work. He had rescheduled as many of his own clients as he could, but he pretty much had back-to-back appointments for the next month. Every time he got frustrated, though, he just opened up his phone and saw all the pictures that his business partner sent him of her newborn baby. A little girl named Ava, who was so cute that it made the whole ordeal of having to manage the parlor by himself worth it.

The customer that had just come in had to be one of Clarisse’s reschedules, because Klaus hadn’t seen this particular individual since he was a teenager. It was a shock to see someone that he had grown up standing in front of him the way that he was. Klaus was assuming on the pronouns, because back when he had known this particular sibling they had looked a lot different.

Seven was listlessly rocking back and forth on his feet while fiddling with the wallet in his hands. His long brown hair had been cropped close to his head so that it just barely tickled the back of his neck and hid the base of his ears. His bangs had also been lopped off, joining the rest of his hair so that only half of his forehead was hidden instead of the entire thing and most of his eyes. 

The other ex-Umbrella Academy member was wearing a pair of dark jeans and a gray t-shirt underneath a baggy maroon sweatshirt that he was basically drowning in. He had three piercings on his left ear, two up on the cartilage and one down on the lobe. On the other side, he had a singular piecing his lobe and one of those earrings that clamped up on the cartilage and hung chains in the shape of the ear. He also had a migraine piercing, which was interesting to Klaus given everything that he had seen with Seven’s headaches when they were growing up.

The thing that made him think that the pronouns of his sibling had changed was the sharpness of Seven’s jawline, the way that his cheekbones were far more pronounced that they had been before. He had five o’clock shadow already despite it being barely noon. He was holding himself differently too, the way that Klaus had noticed a lot of AFAB trans people held themselves when they were trying to appear more masculine. Seven would have passed remarkably well had Klaus not grown up with him.

The artist quickly swallowed his food and then stood up. He cleared his throat and prepared himself for the inevitable recognition. Instead, he was met with the man giving a little jump and then a nervous smile. “A-are you Klaus?” he asked nervously.

“I am. Sorry that I don’t remember your name, it’s been kind of hectic in here since Clarisse when on her maternity leave,” Klaus chuckled in apology. He wasn’t quite sure why his sibling hadn’t recognized him, he didn’t think that he had changed all that much. He had grown out his hair so that the curls now hung low around his face, but right now they were tied back so that they weren’t getting in the way while he was working. He dressed about the same as he had when he was in his civvies as a teenager (today it was a mostly unbuttoned blue dress shirt and a pair of daisy-duke shorts). He had a couple more tattoos, but none of them changed the shape of his face or obscured identifying marks about him. The only reason that he could put his finger on was the plethora of bracelets hanging over his Umbrella Academy tattoo.

At the same time, he was kind of glad that he wasn’t being reminded of his past right now. He wasn’t sure how he’d be able to deal with Seven knowing everything about his worst years and bringing up things that might still be very painful for him. He was working through all of the things that their father had done to him when they were growing up, but there had been a lot of it so it was slow-moving progress.

“It’s alright,” Seven said with a small shake of his head. “I know that when baby’s come isn’t something that you can really control.”

“Oh, do you have kids of your own?” Klaus asked. He knew that he should really get going on the tattooing process so that they weren’t at this into his next appointment but he couldn’t resist the urge to get to know his sibling in this form. They were both adults, both away from the rest of their siblings and the abuse of their father, and basically strangers. Seven seemed to have absolutely no idea who Klaus was, at least.

The other man blanched and let out a startled little laugh. “No, I struggle to keep me and my cat alive. I couldn’t be responsible for a whole other human.”

No children, then, Klaus noted to himself.

He walked up to the counter where they kept the little square device that aided in the transaction process. He decided to introduce himself then, the way that Seven had introduced himself seemed to really cement in his mind that the other had no idea who Klaus was. “My name is Klaus Herschberger, but the way,” he introduced himself as he offered his hand.

Seven took it, marveling at the ‘HELLO’ on his palm for just a moment. “My name’s Viktor. It’s really nice to meet you, by the way. Clarisse called me today to tell me that your work is really good. I think she was worried I was going to chicken out again.”

It felt good to know that his brother had given himself a name, just as he had. It did kind of sting once he realized that Viktor had likely had to take on their father’s last name since none of the other Academy kids had known what their birth parents were named. Klaus regretted how out of his mind he had been when he discovered the check stubs. If he had been at all sober, he would have stolen them all to show his siblings that they did come from somewhere and they had a family history outside of their abuser. 

He suddenly realized what the other man had actually said. “Again?” Klaus asked, tilting his head to the side. As far as he had been able to tell, Viktor had never been in here before. He felt like he would have noticed it if his brother had been coming to the shop more than the one time he could have missed when Viktor set up the appointment.

Viktor shuffled back and forth, his cheeks turning a pretty shade of red. “Well I tried a couple of times when I was younger and it just didn't work out. I got the appointment all scheduled and then just never followed through. I would get scared and cancel either the day of or the day before. I’m really going to do it this time, though.”

“Do you have something in mind then, Viktor?” Klaus asked. He had to admit that his younger brother looked really cute like this. The tips of his ears had already turned a cute shade of pink from the blush on his face, a color that could only be barely made out from the thick brown hair that he had over his ears.

“Uh, yeah,” he nodded. He reached into his wallet and then pulled out a crumbled piece of paper. He unfolded it and then spread it out over the glass countertop before he turned it around so that Klaus could see it.

As soon as it was properly in front of the other man, Klaus felt his heart sink down into his stomach. He had been aware enough in their teenager years (he only slipped into the aggressive memory loss side of addiction after he had left the house) to see how much Viktor wanted to be a part of them, but he hadn’t known that it was this bad. The design that his baby brother had picked out for his first tattoo was the same symbol that had been branded into Klaus’ skin against his wish when he was thirteen. He wasn’t sure that he was going to be able to make it through the entire appointment with how dreadfully sober he was.

“Are you sure?” Klaus asked as he looked up from the umbrella logo towards his younger brother. It still astounded him how much Viktor had changed since the last time that they had seen each other almost eight years ago.

Viktor nodded. “Yeah. I know that it’s kind of weird to have my first ever tattoo be the logo of an obscure superhero group that hasn’t existed for the last decade or so, but this is kind of cathartic for me. I need to do it so that I can really have closure,” he explained.

For a moment, the artist was very concerned about why he was beating around the bush in the way that he was. Klaus had run into a couple of people that had gotten the Umbrella Academy logo tattooed on themselves in the past, though he had tried to avoid them as much as possible lest they find out that he had been a part of that whole mess. It wasn’t like it was a tattoo that no one other than the six Academy superheroes had gotten, so it wasn’t that strange for Viktor to want it as well. Then again, Klaus realized, Viktor had never been introduced to the outside world so he had no idea the kinds of things that people had done in their hay day and that super fans were still doing to that day. To Viktor, this seemed strange and stalker-ish towards a bunch of child heroes that had long since grown up.

Klaus still didn’t understand the entire tirade that he had gone on about it being closure or cathartic in some way since the symbol still held so much trauma for him, but he jerked his head back behind the counter. “You know what you want, so let’s get you tatted up!”

The smaller man let out a near breathless laugh. He walked behind the counter and over to the table where Klaus would be working on him. “Is it going to be more comfortable for you to lay or to sit? Some people start to feel woozy from the adrenaline so they find that it’s better for them to be laying down already.”

“I think I’ll be good sitting up. I brought a book to read and I think it might be hard to do that laying down,” he explained. “I, um, I’ve done a lot of research about the dos and don'ts of getting a tattoo so I’ve already eaten and hydrated.”

“Good, those are good things to have done before coming in. The adrenaline isn’t like when you go on a rollercoaster, it’s really low level but for a long time so it can kind of sneak up on some people. Don’t worry too much, though, you’re not going to be the first person to pass out on me if you do.”

“I hope that I don’t pass out. I have a pretty high pain tolerance,” Viktor chuckled. 

It was weird for Klaus to hear his brother say that. As far as he was aware his brother had never gotten hurt before. Their father was pretty good about making sure that he stayed out of the way when the others were training and had never even made Viktor learn hand-to-hand combat to protect himself. The idea that his brother had been getting hurt right under his nose, in a way that Klaus had never been able to tell, made his heart ache in his chest. He tried not to dwell on it for too long as he turned the chair into a sitting position and then patted the back so that Viktor knew it was okay to sit down.

“The pain of getting a tattoo isn’t the same thing as breaking a bone or scraping your knee. Imagine putting a pen into your skin as hard as you can over and over again for like half an hour,” Klaus explained. “That’s what the tattoo is going to feel like since that’s essentially what’s happening.”

“Don’t try to talk me out of this, man, I’ve already flaked so many times,” Viktor let out a little choked laugh. 

That also drew a little giggle from the artist. For as much trauma as he had surrounding all of his siblings since they reminded him of being back in that house, he had forgotten how much he enjoyed Viktor’s presence. It seemed that putting some distance between them and their abuser had been good for the both of them, even if Klaus had needed to hit an even deeper rock bottom before he could get better.

Klaus chuckled, “Alright, alright. Let’s get you started, yeah?”

“Yeah,” the other man nodded. He sat down in the seat once Klaus had raised it up so that he would be able to do that tattoo while Viktor was sitting up.

The first thing that he did was shave the area with a safe disposable razor. He then got out his favorite sketching pen and began to draw the perfect circle with the shape of the umbrella inside. He knew the mark very well since he had spent a lot of sleepless nights staring directly at the exact same thing on his own arm. He could feel Ben’s presence right behind him, looking over his shoulder and studying every single detail of what he was doing to their brother.

He tried his best to ignore it and focus on his work but it was getting a little bit hard when his body began to shiver at the proximity of the chilling spirit. Ghosts weren’t always cold, some of them were really hot, but they always changed the temperature around them when they were feelings something really strongly or had just been walked through. Klaus sat up and cleared his throat, which made his deceased brother realize what he had been doing and back off.

“What do you think of that?” Klaus then asked as he capped his pen and then turned Viktor’s arm towards the smaller man.

Viktor turned the appendage this way and that as he studied the slightly messy pen marks that covered his arm. The sketch on the skin was always the worst part because Klaus found himself correcting it as he went so there was always an extra line or two that he wouldn’t actually use once he got the whole process underway. Some clients got really upset with him when they saw that the sketch on their skin didn’t really look like what they had brought on paper or what had been in their heads. Viktor didn’t seem to be one of those clients as he quickly said, “That’s really good!”

“We can get onto the fun part now,” Klaus explained. He filled up all the little cups with the colors that he would need and then placed them down next to the gun. “If at any point you need a break or for me to stop just let me know and I’ll do my best to stop as quickly as I can,” he gave the other man a small nod.

Viktor gave him a shaky smile in return. It was a look that Klaus had seen a lot when they were younger because it seemed to be the only thing that Seven could muster. Viktor had always seemed so small and fragile back then, like the slightest gust of wind hitting him wrong would cause him to break into thousands of pieces that could never be put back together the right way.

The music of the shop began to float over them as Klaus got to work. He enjoyed being able to play his own music when Clarisse wasn’t here, even if he wished that he had some company that weren’t just his clients. Clarisse owned the shop so she was the one to pick the music most days as the first one in and the last one to leave outside of very special cases in which Klaus had an appointment that was really dragging on.

The artist filled the pen with the special ink and then finished all of the steps that he needed to begin the process. He turned the device on and brought it to Viktor’s flesh, carefully making the first part of the thick black line that was going to be forming in the circle all the way around the umbrella. He made sure that Viktor was okay as he continued to fill it in bit by bit so the entire piece of his skin was finished.

The music was barely even playing in his ears as he really got into it. He was focusing on trying to make sure that he got everything just right, as he always did when he was working. He was also listening to the sound of his brother’s breathing this time, focusing on reminding himself that the other man was in fact real and sitting in his chair.

“You doing okay?” Klaus asked once he had finished with the solid black ring around the design that was going to be going on the inside. 

Viktor turned his head so that he was facing the other man. He pried his eyes open from where they had been shut while he focused on breathing. “Hmm? Yeah, I’m doing great. This isn’t nearly as bad as I thought it was going to be.”

That had been something that Klaus noticed while he was working. Viktor wasn’t even reacting to that tattoo like many of his already-tatted clients had. He didn’t even seem to be aware of when the pen was in his arm, like his nerves just absolutely refused to acknowledge that they should be sending pained signals to his brain.

“Then there’s nothing to be scared about for the rest of it, is there?” Klaus beamed at him.

The other man took a moment, like a smile being directed specifically at him wasn’t something that he had experienced before. Then Viktor gave a little nod and a laugh, shining brighter than any star Klaus had ever seen before. It warmed his heart, to see the fragile little Seven blossoming into the beginnings of a person. Klaus wanted to know all about him, every moment that he had missed when they separated to make their mark on the world. He knew that he couldn’t though, not when Viktor didn’t even recognise him.

Klaus spent the next hour mulling over how he could get to know his brother better and if he even could. It was complicated, given everything that had happened in their past. When they were children, Seven had been closest with Number Five before the latter had disappeared forever. Then Seven and Number Six had become as thick as thieves, spending every spare moment that Six had (when he wasn’t chasing after Klaus, training, or going on missions) squirreled away in their family library. Klaus, back when he had been Number Four, had never been particularly close with Seven. He had been too drugged out of his mind in the later years, too desperate to leave the house after Six, who chose the name Ben post-mortum, had become a literal ghost in his shadow instead of a figurative one.

He regretted it deeply now that he saw even the smallest glimpse of what his brother was. He knew that Viktor and Seven were very different people, that much was obvious from his own experience as both Klaus and Four, but the ache in his heart was still there with every steady beat. He wanted to know more about Viktor’s struggle with his gender, the way that he had come to terms with their shitty family, if he was still playing the violin and if he actually liked it or if he felt like he had to. He wanted to know everything, but they were strangers to each other in more ways than one so he couldn’t. 

He finished the last bit of that tattoo with one swipe of the cloth that he had been using to get rid of the blood and excess ink. “There we go,” he grinned at his younger brother as he turned Viktor’s wrist so that he could see it properly.

Viktor slowly pried his eyes away from the book that he had been holding open with his other hand and then looked down at the umbrella that was now on his skin forever. A mixture of emotions washed over his face, something that Klaus desperately wished he could ask about. He wanted to know what his brother was feeling, why he had been inclined to do this in the first place, and how Klaus could assuage some of the not-so-nice feelings.

“Thank you,” Viktor said softly. He stared at the tattoo for a moment longer before Klaus got out the cling film and wrapped it up. He kept the see-through material shut with a piece of masking tape.

He finished putting his things away so that he could give his brother some time to process the permanent marking that he had just gotten. Most people were overly giddy or excited when they saw their first tattoo, but Klaus had also done several that were outlines of dead pets or the names of dead family members, which were more somber and required the client to be left alone so that they could mull in their feelings for a while. 

Once he finished, he sat back down in the chair next to Viktor while fiddling with a folded piece of yellow paper. “So you’re going to want to keep that on for a couple of hours after you get back. I’m going to tell you with words about how to take care of the tattoo and give you this nifty little paper that has everything you need to know about tattoo care on it. You’re going to want to wash it with antibacterial soap very softly. Just put some on your hand and then gently rub it into the tattoo with a wash cloth. You don’t want to do any scrubbing because eventually it is going to start peeling and if you pick off the skin it can effect how the tattoo heals. This has a couple of different lotions that I suggest you use to minimize itching and advance healing, they vary on skin type. If you have dryer skin then you use different ones than if you have oily skin.”

Viktor very seriously listened to everything that the artist had to say, his brows furrowed with concentration as he tried to cling to every single word that Klaus was giving him. “Right, okay,” he said when the other man took a moment to breathe.

“If you have any questions then just let me know. The shop is open pretty late into the night most days and I can get back to you as soon as possible if you call and no one is here,” he finished.

“This really has been a great experience,” Viktor assured him. He kept looked down at his tattoo even though it was now wrapped with the cling film. “I’m glad that I finally decided to actually do this now. I could have chickened out again until Clarisse was back in the office, but I’m glad that I didn’t.”

“Yeah?” Klaus asked. He had gotten a mixed reacted from a lot of the clients that had agreed to let him do their tattoos. Some of them were still very loyal to Clarisse since she had been their artist for years, but others liked him enough that they were considering switching. The ex-superhero had no idea what Viktor’s decision was going to be since he had never gotten a tattoo before, but he was pleasantly surprised.

“Yeah. It didn’t hurt as much as I thought it did and I really appreciate you checking in on me to make sure that I was okay as often as you did,” Viktor explained. He stood up from the chair and didn’t waver like some of Klaus’ clients did, but rather stood tall and more sure of himself than Klaus thought Seven ever could.

They finished up the transaction and then Viktor slipped out of the parlor with the little informational pamphlet about tattoo care clasped in his hand. It was weird to see him go again, since the Seven from his childhood had been stagnant and still their entire lives. Viktor moved now, he went places and did things and most likely had friends. Maybe he even had a new family, which is why he hadn’t bothered to talk to Klaus like the two of them knew each other.

The artist couldn’t get his brother out of his head the entire rest of the week until Clarisse came back and things returned to normal. Even then, thoughts of things that Viktor might like or what kind of a person he had grown into flitted through his mind on the regular.

---

Almost six months had passed before he saw his brother in person again. He had just come back from doing guest work in San Francisco on Ben’s request. They traveled there almost every nine months because Ben loved it there so much and Klaus liked the break from their hometown. He didn’t feel like he could leave The City yet because of all the history he had there and the chance that he would be able to run into Diego, Number One, or Viktor again. A small part of him, the part that was mostly Ben complaining about Klaus bringing it up one too many times, was mostly just staying there for Viktor.

He didn’t know what it was about his brother that had him so transfixed, but he felt almost like he had the first time that he had fallen in love with he was sixteen. Granted, a lot of that probably had to do with the ecstasy that the girl had been slipping into his drink every time Klaus managed to sneak out of the house to meet up with her, but the feeling was consistent. He hadn’t eaten or drank anything when Viktor was around, though, so he knew that the situation had to be at least a little bit different.

Clarisse had told him that she scheduled a couple of appointments for him and forwarded an email of what the clients wanted, so he knew that he was going to have a couple people coming in that he hadn’t met with first. He had already done two and they were admittedly a little more difficult than the ones he met with himself were. It was harder to get an idea of the picture that someone wanted when he was being told the information through another person in an email, after all.

He had just finished up with his most recent appointment when the door opened and two people entered. One of them was there for a quick appointment with Clarisse, an old friend of the woman from back when they were in college together, while the other was Viktor.

Klaus couldn’t help himself. He put away the book that he had been flicking through to try and figure out what he wanted his next tattoo to be. He got up and walked over to the glass counter, folding his arms and then leaning over it so that he was closer to Viktor’s height. It was insane just how short his brother was, even when Klaus wasn’t wearing the platform boots that he had chosen to come to work in today. “Hey, there.”

“Hi,” Viktor replied awkwardly. “I, um, I know that Clarisse was the one to book me for you technically but I’m here for my appointment.”

“Ah, right,” he nodded. That was another challenge that he had found in having clients make appointments through another person. When he didn’t hear them over the phone or see them in person then he had a much harder time remembering who they were beyond the designs that he was making for them. “And what was it that you wanted, again?”

“I was, um, I was hoping to get the solar system tattooed on my back,” he said, gesturing to his left shoulder.

Klaus nodded. He had already drawn a design for a solar system, he just couldn’t remember where and who it was going to be for. “Where on your back do you want it?” he asked as he brought Viktor around the counter and then sat him down on the chair again. He was going to have to adjust it depending on what the other man’s answer was going to be.

“Just on the top of my neck, I think. I don’t have anyone that can help me with cleaning and upkeep if it’s somewhere that I can’t reach myself,” he explained. 

Just like they had before, Klaus adjusted how the chair was out and then instructed Viktor on what he needed to do. When the other man was told that he was going to have to remove his shirt, he stopped and began to fiddle with the hem while his eyes shifted uncomfortably between both his artist and the duo in the next room over that were doing basically the same thing as them.

“It’s okay, we don’t judge people’s bodies. We’re just here to add to them when asked,” Klaus said softly. He had delt with a couple of trans clients before, as well as identifying as non-binary himself even if he didn’t use alternative pronouns, so he knew how to help them feel more comfortable.

“Right. Just not used to that kind of acceptance, I guess,” Viktor cleared his throat awkwardly. He removed himself from the chair so that Klaus could turn it into a table. Once it was in the completely flat position at up at the level where Klaus would need it to do the tattoo on his back, the smaller man removed his shirt.

When they were kids, Klaus had seen a fair deal of their other siblings when they were training with each other or needed to change quickly before a mission. Seven had no powers and had thus been excluded from all of that. He wasn’t sure that he had ever seen more of his brother than the uniforms allowed him to see, which was a curious thought to be having when the other was now shirtless in front of him.

Viktor was wearing a peach-colored binder that was curled slightly around the neck and arms from how often it had been worn. His skin was just as pale as it had been on his arms the last time that Klaus had been giving him a tattoo. He could make out a couple of freckles along his stark collar bone, but other than that Viktor’s skin was completely unblemished by scars or marks. Klaus himself was covered in scars from the missions the Umbrella Academy was sent on and his hard couple of years living on the streets. His stomach was also dotted with chicken pox scars, a disease he wasn’t sure that Viktor had ever gotten despite all of them being taken out of commission by it. 

“Alright, you ready for this?” Klaus asked with a bright smile.

As if he had realized that the other man really wasn’t going to say anything about the binder or the fact that he had a chest at all, Viktor gave a confident nod. He turned around so that he was laying down on the table. He had his shirt bunched underneath his head so that he was more comfortable, his arms folded underneath himself.

From that point on, the tattooing process went just as the other one had. Viktor looked to have almost fallen asleep by the time that Klaus finished with the last of the pale gray lines that connected each of the planets together around the sun that they were orbiting. Viktor was just as enamored with that tattoo as he had been with the other one, though he seemed more excited and less melancholic about the more recent one.

Klaus was once again sad to see his brother leave, but he felt like he knew just a little bit more about Viktor than he had before. It was almost impossible think of the man that kept visiting his parlor as the same brother that Seven had been. Viktor had blossomed into his own person so wholeheartedly, Klaus could almost see more petals unraveling from the flowerbud the longer that they interacted with each other. It was wonderful, but his heart also ached as he wished that he could be a bigger part of his life.

---

It seemed as though the universe had answered a few of his prayers for the first time ever in his twenty-six years of life. Their birthday had just passed and Viktor had already come in to get several more tattoos. Klaus didn’t know if this was because he had secured a job that gave him enough expendable income to do so or if he finally felt confident enough to do what he wanted with his own body, but he wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth.

The more appointments they had together the more they chatted with each other. Klaus learned that Viktor played the violin professionally and taught private lessons for child prodigies, that he had work friends he hung out with regularly, that he had graduated college with a teaching major and a music minor. He had also heard a couple childhood stories about their siblings from him, which had really just proven that Viktor didn’t recognize him. 

Klaus had given the other man several more tattoos. There was a batman symbol on his left shoulder, a particularly sentimental quote from Allison’s first ever major role in her movies on his right forearm, an intertwined five and seven right underneath his collarbone, and the cutest little squid that he had ever designed tucked safely away on Viktor’s hip. 

The artist tried not to feel hurt that the other man hadn’t gotten anything for him, since everything else was clearly for the rest of their siblings. Granted, they hadn’t been particularly close since Klaus was high out of his mind by the time that Five had left and he even had the ability to befriend the other. He had stopped thinking of them as siblings a long time ago, around their third appointment together. Viktor was far too cute and funny and shy for them to be siblings, especially with the massive crush that Klaus was developing.

“So what are we in for today?” he asked as he sat down on his stool. He dug through the papers that he had allowed to heap on his desk so that he could find the designs that he had been working on for the past couple of days.

“This one is kind of complicated,” he sighed. He pulled some paper out of his pocket. “This is my favorite piece, it’s the first one that I ever truly memorized. I wanted to get it but I’m not sure how tattoos react with scar tissue.”

“Well, it depends on how big it is and how gnarly the scar tissue is,” Klaus explained. He pulled up his shirt on his right side so that his arm was revealed, “I had a lot of scars here but I was able to get them covered up pretty well.” That was one of the first tattoos that he had gotten after getting sober. Clarisse had done them right before she took him on as her apprentice, covering up all the little poc marks with his favorite flower. The multi-colored bleeding hearts reminded him about when his life turned to the place where it was now and how far he had come in the last couple of years.

“Right, okay,” Viktor nodded. He unfolded the paper and then passed it over to Klaus. “Would it be at all possible to cover up line scars with this? If it’s not then I have another idea for something that I can get instead that still means a lot to me, but I’m kind of hoping that we can go with my first idea.”

“I think that I can do that,” Klaus nodded. Of course, he hadn’t seen the scars that the other man was talking about, but he was beginning to get an idea of what they were. It hurt his heart to think about Viktor, at any point in his life but especially when they were trapped in the huge walls of that horrid house they had grown up in, being in so much pain that he had to release it by hurting himself. He had done several tattoo cover ups in this sense already, as well as a more difficult one involving a burn victim.

The process moved a lot slower than it had previously. This was obviously something that was very painful for Viktor, more painful than the other tattoos that he had gotten done even though they seemed just as personal if not more. Viktor shimmied his pants off and then rolled up the left leg of his boxers as he laid down on the table so that Klaus could get to work.

Just as he had suspected, Viktor’s leg was covered in thin white and red lines. Some of the scars seemed old, like they had been healing for about a decade while others seemed a lot newer. None of them were open wounds, but some of them were less faded than the rest. Klaus wondered when Viktor had started doing this and when he had stopped. He wished that he had been a lot more present so that he could have noticed it when it started and helped Viktor.

“So what is the significance of this particular piece to you, again?” Klaus asked. He didn’t usually question why people were getting the tattoos that they wanted and he wasn’t a huge fan of conversation in general when he was working as he felt like it distracted him from what he was trying to do, but the silence felt stifling. It was hard to just focus on the tattoo when he was covering up marks that signified how horrible Viktor had it when Klaus could have been helping him had he just resolved to get sober  a little sooner. He had to fill the silence with something.

“Well, I started playing the violin when I was about thirteen. It was something that I thought I could be good at, like really hone my ability to do it. I became obsessed with it and started playing all the time. My parents had made sure that I could read sheet music so I did a lot of sight reading in the beginning. I was teaching myself how to play the violin so it took a lot of time to memorize what made each chord sound right. My siblings didn’t like it very much but they were all pretty busy so I had plenty of time to just play without worrying about making anyone upset.”

Klaus felt like he was going to start sobbing. He remembered the first time that they had come home to hear Viktor playing the violin. It was a classic piece, one that their father had played while they were taking tests after they turned ten in the hopes that it would make them smarter or something. The tempo had been slowed way down and the notes were just a little bit off, but it had been relatively good overall. They hadn’t been kind about the excess sound, though. He specifically remembered shouting affirmatives down the hall as Three explained, in degrading levels of detail, how annoying the sound was after doing what they had just been forced to do. 

Half of him wished that he had either kept his mouth shut so he didn’t have to think about how shitty he had been to Viktor as a child and the other half of him wished he could travel back in time and right every wrong that he had ever done. 

“But, um, I had a really close friend that hated all classical music and so I learned something that was on the edge of classical so that he could hear something that he enjoyed when I played. I never got to actually play it for him but it’s still a piece that I can play with my eyes closed. I teach it to basically all of my students who have gotten into a rut with their music. Learning it and practicing it for hours and hours on end helped me through a really hard time in my life. I thought that it was only fitting to get it permanently placed on my body, I guess.”

“I think that’s really beautiful,” Klaus replied. He desperately wanted to know who the close friend was and why they had never gotten to hear the piece. He knew that it had to be Five or Ben since those were the two people that Viktor had lost when they were younger, but Viktor had picked up the violin around the time that Five had disappeared and Ben loved classical music so neither of those made sense.

He let the appointment slip back into silence then, unsure that anything he asked would end up getting him an answer that would sooth the ache in his chest. He had known that Viktor’s childhood was bad in a way that was very different than the rest of theirs, but somehow he wasn’t really aware of how badly he had been hurting as they grew up. He wanted to pay more attention, he wanted to know more so that he could help in any way that Viktor would allow him to, but he also knew that they were basically strangers so there wasn’t really anything that he could do.

They had made so much progress on getting to know each other and yet they still felt so distant from one another. Klaus wanted nothing more than to have a more intimate relationship with his brother, even if that was just friends instead of a client/artist relationship. It was so frustrating and yet at the same time he was grateful to be in Viktor’s life at all.

---

The next tattoo that Viktor came in for was a lot happier than the rest of them had been. Normally the other man made his appointments about a month before he came in to get the work done, but this one had been a bit of a rush appointment that they had only been able to fit in because someone else had canceled. On top of the quick timing, he hadn’t told Klaus what he was going to get like he normally did. The artist had no idea what he was going to be working on today and that both terrified and excited him.

He tilted his head up and then beamed when he saw the person that was rapidly becoming his favorite client step into the parlor. “Well if it isn’t Viktor! How are you doing?” Klaus beamed as he made his way over to the glass counter that separated them from each other.

“Really, really good,” he beamed. “That tattoo I want today is pretty simple, it’s just a date.”

“You know, there are some much better ways to keep track of when your appointments are,” he teased.

Viktor laughed, a joyous sound that Klaus wished he could have surrounding him at all times. Of course, he would sit with Viktor when he cried and worship at his feet when he was insecure if it meant getting to spend time with him outside of the parlor. Klaus would do basically anything if it meant that he could be in proximity to the other man at all. He had fallen so hard and so fast for Viktor that he could barely even believe that the feelings were real.

“It’s actually the date of my top surgery. I had an appointment with my doctor two weeks ago when I made the appointment and she said that I’m healed enough that getting a tattoo close to the surgery sight shouldn’t be a problem,” he explained.

“Congratulations on your top surgery! What day did you get it on?” Klaus asked. He felt honored and excited for the other man, that Viktor had trusted him enough to tell him something so personal since they still didn’t know each other very well.

As they moved around the edge of the counter so that they were back at Klaus’ station, Viktor told him the date. He got up on the table and then removed his shirt. Unlike the last time that he had done that, he was sitting up much taller and grinning like an absolute idiot. 

Klaus wanted to kiss him so bad.

He knew that Ben was going to be so pissed when the two of them met up at the end of the day to talk about their days and all Klaus could talk about was how badly he wanted to kiss a man that he barely knew. Ben would, of course, get mad at him for not taking the plunge and just asking Viktor out since they had already spent so much time together, but he just couldn’t bring himself to do it. He didn’t want to risk the only time that he had with the other by making unwanted advances. That was something that Ben wouldn’t be able to weigh in on since the ghost followed him to work so rarely that he didn’t have the background knowledge to make a good assessment about it.

The process went like it had every other time before, but with a lot more conversation. Klaus could tell that the other man was giddy and excited, a feeling that was infectious beyond all belief. They spent the entire time talking to each other, Viktor explaining what the experience of getting top surgery had been like for him and how excited he was to be able to walk around topless when socially appropriate instead of being nervous about being outed.

The tattoo was so small that they wrapped up after only twenty minutes, unfortunately. It probably would have gone faster had the numbers not been quite so small, but unfortunately Klaus was very good at his job so it still went faster than he had been hoping it would.

Viktor got out of the chair and put his shirt on over the top of the masking tape and cling film that was protecting the newly done tattoo, a set of three different numbers just underneath his left pectoral. “So, I guess I’ll see you next time I need to get some work done?” he asked.

Something deep inside of Klaus roared to life, a kind of hope that had been smothered to death when he had to watch Ben’s own monster tear himself to shreds. It was a feeling that he had longed to have back but had known was never going to return to him. Until now. “Uh, yeah, see you then,” was the only thing that he managed to get out. Usually he was so suave and the words came to him easier than anything else had, but Viktor had spent the entire time being so euphoric and excited that Klaus had managed to get tongue tied.

They hovered around each other for a moment longer before Viktor gave the most adorable, awkward wave ever and then hurried out of the door.

---

The parlor was completely empty with the exception of Klaus. Clarisse was out on a sick day with her baby and since Klaus had already scheduled a lot of appointments for that day, unaware that two of them would cancel back to back, she had to reschedule all of her clients. The clairvoyant man wasn’t really upset with it though, because it gave him some time to exist by himself without being surrounded by all the people he had to interact with on a daily basis. He wasn’t nearly as much as an introvert as Ben or One, but he still liked having he quiet moments by himself.

He let out a small sigh as the bell above the door tinkled to let him know that someone had opened it. He set his book down on the desk and then tilted his head up before he felt his heart jump into his throat. Viktor was standing in the doorway to the parlor, his chest heaving and a flush on his face. Outside the wind was howling and the rain was pouring down, which was probably the reason that he had run there from wherever it was that he was coming from.

“Hey there,” Klaus said as he tried to force himself to play it cool. His stomach was clenching around the sandwich that he had eaten for lunch like it had suddenly become rocks while his nerves shot to life. “I don’t remember you having an appointment today,” he said as he glanced towards the calendar to accentuate his point.

“I don’t, I’m sorry,” Viktor ran a hand through his short-cropped hair. Water was dripping off of it and down onto the wooden floor. It was only then that Klaus noticed how soaking wet he was, like he had been in the rain for an exceptionally long time. He couldn’t help but wonder why.

“Okay, then why are you here? Not that it’s not wonderful to see you,” Klaus beamed, turning his head to the side in the way that Ben always told him made him look like a confused dog.

Viktor took a step forward and then shoved the door shut. Klaus could see a few of the tattoos that were now covering his skin peaking out of his shirt and jacket sleeves. “This is going to sound really fucking weird, but, um, my therapist said that I had to do it so that I could move on with my life no matter what happened.”

Klaus felt all of the good nerves that he got whenever he saw the man that he had fallen in love with turn sour. He couldn’t help but be terrified that Viktor had found out who Klaus was and was upset that he had kept that secret the entire time they had known each other.

The smaller man took a deep breath, his shoulders physically moving up and down as he did so. “I’m in love with you. I have been since you did the five and seven on my hip. I know that I’m your client and that’s kind of weird for me to say since you’re probably just being so nice to me so that I’ll come back and continue to give you more money but you’re so kind and funny and compassionate and you’ve never judged me or ridiculed me. I- you don’t have to reply or anything, I just had to get this out of me.”

“I’m your brother.”

That was definitely not what Klaus had been wanting to say. 

Viktor shook his head and then looked at him oddly, his brows furrowed together in confusion. “What?” he asked.

“I’m your brother,” Klaus repeated, for some reason. It almost felt like the time that he had been twenty-four and having withdrawals so bad that he felt like he was going to die when he found out that Ben could possess him. Like someone else was controlling his body and making him say things he didn’t want to. “Not biologically, of course. I’m Number Four. We grew up together in the Umbrella Academy,” he unfastened the half dozen bracelets that he used to keep the umbrella tattoo hidden on his arm. He had been tempted to cover it up with something else but hadn’t been able to bring himself to do it yet since it still linked him to all of his siblings.

The smaller man took a step forward, grasping Klaus’ arm to bring it closer to him so that he could see the faded ink even closer. “Holy shit,” he whispered, his eyes so wide that Klaus was half worried they were going to pop out of his skull. “It’s really you.”

“I’m so sorry that I didn’t tell you sooner. I know you’re probably upset that I let you fall in love with me thinking that I was some kind of stranger to you when you really knew me the entire time,” he let out a short, clipped laugh. It as one that he had used when he was in recovery a lot because he felt uncomfortable but didn’t know how to properly express that.

He took in a breath to continue his ramble just to fill up the silence or give Viktor time to get a proper argument in order, but he was quickly silenced by another pair of lips on top of his. Klaus let out a surprised hum in the back of his throat but lifted his hands up so that he was cupping the other man’s clammy, wet skin. 

They broke apart and Viktor let out a little giggle, “You really think that the whole pseudo-incest thing weirds me out? When we were little I was practically in love with Five, as much as any thirteen-year-old could be. And then we had to watch Allison and One make moon-eyes at each other for years since they were both too shy to make a move.”

“Believe it or not, they were even worse on missions,” Klaus chuckled. He darted back in so that he could give Viktor another kiss on the lips. He knew that he had an addictive personality, but nothing in the world had ever compared to the way that he felt when he was kissing Viktor and he desperately wished that he could do it forever. He didn’t want to go another moment without experiencing it at least once a day.

“God, I really like doing that,” Viktor admitted before his cheeks became covered in a beautiful red color.

“I like doing it too. We should do it more often,” Klaus beamed.

It was only then did Viktor seem to realize where he was. “Oh shit, did I interrupt you while you were at work? I didn’t mean to take you away from a client or anything, I was just trying to get you off my mind and then it all just kind of… happened.”

“You didn’t interrupt me. And even if you did, I’d be happy for it,” Klaus grinned. “I don’t have another client for another half hour and Clarisse is out with her baby if you want to stick around and catch up. This time with both of us knowing who the other is.”

The smaller man tilted his head up, smiling so wide that it stretched from one ear to the other. He gave a small nod and the duo walked through the parlor to Klaus’ desk, where he was positioned immediately on the taller’s lap so that they could talk about everything that had been left silent the entire time that they had known each other.

---

The very last tattoo that Klaus gave Viktor was a golden wedding band on his ring finger.

[sodone-withlife]

falling

good day everyone guess who is once again back from the dead and this time actually with a finished fic after like a year rip

anyway i swear this started off as a soft cute idea of interpreting hotch and haley's relationship (and Jessica cheering them on) in the context of the song Falling Slowly from Once (i highly recommend listening to it if you want to feel things), and of course when i come back to it months later and with a new hannibal obsession it turns into... whatever the hell this is and i probably made Hotch, Haley, and Jessica a bit OOC to make sure the storyline works out. i'm also not a big fan of how the pacing turned out, but it's also been a while since i've actually written anything of this length so forgive me if some parts are weird

warnings: canon typical violence, murder, mention of intrusive thoughts, religious references, character death mentioned child abuse, mentioned homophobia, mentioned substances/drugging, slight gore at the end

having just transferred back to the local high school from boarding school out in the city, he—not unexpectedly—got lost on his first day attending classes in the singular campus that every kid in the small town went to school at. 

it was certainly an adjustment. while he did spend his summers and other breaks at home, he never bothered interacting with any of the local kids his age; he just didn’t see a point to it. 

he was going be gone for most of the year, after all, and there’s never enough time for him to cultivate friendships.

people his age never seemed all that willing to talk to him anyway, given that he also happened to be the son of the rich, scary lawyer who somehow still lived in the tiny town that was an hour away from where he worked in the nation’s capital. his reticent nature coupled with his tendency towards ‘deviant’ behaviors—his dress, vices, purported sexuality—and the revival of the small town gossip that had jumped on him being sent off to boarding school certainly didn’t help his case when he came back .

(not that he really cares. he only stuck around for his baby brother, but from what he can tell, he isn't needed that much; his mother and father give Sean the attention and care they never thought to give to their eldest.)

so he can't do much but try to endure the latter half of his junior year and then his senior year and all the ramifications that come with him being stuck in close quarters with his family for a prolonged period of time.

just a year and a half before he can finally leave the stifling small town he grew up in.

he sees her on his first day when he somehow walks into the elementary drama class instead of his math class. 

(the two classrooms are on opposite ends of the school. that he knew for certain, so how the hell did he—?)

it’s not that he is completely ignorant in the ways of teenage hormones, sexuality, attraction, dating, and making out—he had certainly done enough of that in secret with a few of the other boys at boarding school and got sent home for it when the admin found out…

it’s that he looks at her and immediately feels like the floor has dropped out from underneath his feet. 

dirty blonde hair, standing tall, gentle kindness oozing out of every pore as she guides a group of young children through rehearsing a scene from the upcoming play, the brightest smile he's ever seen…

~~~

he backs out of the classroom as quickly as he could before she can catch him staring at her like a creep.

~~~

that damned smile just won't leave his head.

~~~

and as it turns out, they have history and english classes together.

~~~

he flushes a brilliant red when she catches his eye for the first time, a spark of curiosity fueled by something unknown to him. 

it is after school, and he was lurking in a dark corner of the run-down cafe frequented by the older high school students. one moment he is stuck in the books that he’s read and annotated thrice over, the next finds his thoughts being unwittingly directed towards her brilliant smile and sparkling gaze when he hears her ordering a drink at the counter.

the sound of her voice is almost like the bell from Pavlov’s experiments, forcing his thoughts away from whatever he is doing in the moment and giving him the urge to look up and around for that wondrous girl he is too nervous to talk to. 

and finally, it seems like they might actually have a direct interaction for the first time—

—if it weren’t for her friends keeping most of her attention and then dragging her out of the cafe once they all got their orders, but she waved at him, or maybe it wasn’t directed towards him but at someone else she recognized, but she had also been sending him curious looks as she talked with her friends when they had been waiting, though it could be entirely out of clinical curiosity about the boy everyone in the community seems to be wary of and who suddenly appeared at school one day after disappearing to boarding school as the gossip says, and—

—but with the suspicious look that her older sister sends him the next day in their shared math class, he further squashes his hopes, firm in his resolve that yesterday had been a fluke and becomes even more sure that the town gossip and whatever the sister told her will extinguish any semblance of interest she even could have had.

~~~

towards the end of the school year, on a completely unremarkable day, he accidentally bumps into her in the hallway as he makes his way to his first class. 

seeing him, his exhausted expression and the color on his cheek that still smarted from his stepfather’s… clumsiness, she can only ask after his well being, genuine concern clear in her eyes. he has to do a double take, the question coming completely out of the blue after half a year of all the signs of an unhealthy home life going unnoticed. 

so unexpected is this question that he can't respond with his practiced answer that was designed to quell any suspicions regarding the circumstances of his family life. 

a clumsy, stuttering “yeah, i—i’m fine, i have to get to, um, to first period, i’m almost, uh, late,” is what comes out of his mouth instead, and as expected, it does absolutely nothing to alleviate her concerns. at the disbelieving look on her face, he freezes, unsure as to what he should do.

he doesn’t really remember what he said next, just that it was probably something completely incoherent before he somehow remembered to turn to the etiquette lessons his mom and the boarding school had deigned to shove him into and thanked her for her worry. 

(and that was when she resolved to befriend the lonely boy who was able to show infinite care towards his little brother all the while looking so angry and sad at the world.)

~~~

they share their first kiss after getting caught in the rain while walking home from the cafe where she first waved at him (and yes, she was waving at him, the mysterious boy she had seen around town and wanted to get to know). 

they laughed as they ran down the sidewalk towards her house, already drenched even though the rain had only started five minutes ago. 

it was a beautiful laugh, he thought, and her hand was so incredibly warm in his.

they stopped momentarily to catch their breath as the rain pelted down around them, and when he finally looked up from making a valiant effort at straightening out his clothes, his world narrowed down to a strangely pleasant pressure and warmth that touched his lips.

tentatively, he pulled her closer as she cupped her hands around his face, deepening the kiss.

then it stopped, and she slowly drew away, nervous hope in her eyes as she searched his expression. 

he couldn’t stop the smile growing on his face even if he wanted to.

~~~

seven years later, he sits in the car, waiting for her to come out of their shared apartment so they can go to the Folger Shakespeare Library and later the Moongate Garden to celebrate his passing of the bar.

there’s a small box hidden in the backseat and a sister in New York eagerly awaiting news.

~~~

Jessica tells her lovesick sister to hand the phone to her new fiance and gleefully tells him “I told you so,” just as she told her sister who had called her numerous times out of nerves regarding their relationship.

Can't believe I didn't see it from the beginning. They both deserve each other, sickeningly lovey-dovey idiots that they are.

~~~

he becomes a prosecutor and quickly rises up, making himself a strong reputation and gaining an impressive track record.

he becomes more disillusioned with the system, less satisfied with his work as he sees all the times where someone could have said or done something that would have changed the tragic outcomes entirely.

he applies to the FBI Academy, and six months later, they move to Seattle.

~~~

he takes his first life from a distance, laying on a rooftop with his rifle pointed down towards a hostage situation. 

she recognizes the darkness in his eyes from the beginning of their relationship and a few times since he started settling down, times when she simply hugged him and reminded him of her love and acceptance of him in his entirety, ugly thoughts and all.

they do it again, lying in bed as she holds his shivering form close.

~~~

he thought he had been somewhat prepared for this day, when he finally took a life like his thoughts had always wanted him to.

~~~

they do this again and again.

and then he meets David Rossi and Jason Gideon, who sees the darkness in him and knows immediately how it can be honed to be used as a silent and deadly weapon. 

within months, they’re back in Virginia, and the creeping darkness of his thoughts grows ever more oppressive as he dives into the minds of more and more violent criminals, the worst of the worst. 

his reputation of no-nonsense and brilliance follows him as more people start noticing, and when Rossi retires, Gideon starts seriously preparing him to take on a leadership role. 

~~~

two simple words seal their fate.

i’m pregnant.

~~~

he stands next to her sleeping, exhausted form in the hospital room, his heart filled by a foreign joy even as he is acutely aware that only a day earlier he was washing blood off his hands after an arrest gone wrong.

his hands, which now held the most precious thing in his life (alongside his beautiful, so incredibly strong wife). outside, Jessica stood guard, ready to defend the newest light in their lives against unseen threats. Wonderful Jessica, who stayed with her sister as he rushed to find the child killer and make it home in time to meet his son as he enters the world.

(a life for a life, said an insidious voice inside his mind. the most tragic exchange—one parent’s world-ending anguish and another’s world-creating joy. you come from consoling parents who just lost their children in the most horrendous ways to have a child of your own.)

~~~

Jack.

originally thought to have been a diminutive of John—in Hebrew, God is merciful—or possibly Celtic in origin, meaning healthy, strong, full of vital energy.

~~~

or perhaps, it was a sign of things to come.

there are many stories about the death of John the Baptist. Some say it was at the behest of Herod’s daughter, who was influenced by his wife Herodias, because John criticized how Herod married his dead brother’s widow. Others say it was because Herod feared the influence he had over the people.

regardless, there were elements of revenge or fear. 

regardless, John the Baptist was killed.

~~~

one of the most violent criminals he's ever put away for a life sentence escapes with revenge on his mind.

his child is only three.

~~~

they baring their souls to each other after three years of struggling to hold their relationship together for the sake of their child.

(he hated how he had so wanted to run away from this responsibility, so scared of being a corrupting influence, and how he traveled more and more. she still loved him, he knew that, but he also knew that sometimes she thought about leaving for better circumstances than an absent father.)

(he sometimes thinks she should have left.)

they make choices.

she leaves her teaching job, no longer able to bear the sight of young children.

he takes a month off before returning to work, as both are unable to stand the thought that he could be preventing this from happening to anyone else.

they tell Jessica first, who looks at them and the darkness hiding behind their grief knowingly.

she hugs them, refusing to shudder at how cold they both feel.

~~~ 

perhaps unconsciously, they rarely wear any color but black for years after this. when either of them go to Quantico, the thought of color doesn’t even cross their minds.

everyone knows what happened.

they flinch every time they see her walk in, dressed in black, reminded of their failure.

she notices.

...perhaps it’s a conscious choice.

~~~ 

he walks into the house and locks the door behind him, making a mental note to clean the doorknob in a few hours the morning, and proceeds into the bedroom, where she waits for him on the bed with a book.

her sharp eyes snap to him as he walks in, making note of the blood on him. she places the book onto the nightstand so she can get up and gently lead him to the bathroom, where she helps him undress.

the bloodied clothes go into the trash bag that’s been sitting next to the toilet, replacing the last one and ready to be used. he stands silently as she turns on the shower, and when the water is warm enough, she helps him into the bathtub. 

the water runs red from the blood of the child abuser they saw slapping his son while shopping the other day. a week ago, it was the homophobic preacher from a church a few cities over; a man who she saw drugging a girl’s drink a month ago.

a slow breath is released as he feels her gentle hands in his hair, rubbing in shampoo and rinsing it clean. when he finally looks up, his world narrows down to a gentle pressure that touches his lips.

he pulls her closer as she cups her hands around his face to deepen the kiss, not unlike the first one they shared in the rain all those years ago.

then it stops. 

she slowly draws away and searches his expression. 

~~~ 

it is cold. 

they are both cold.

~~~

their love once was as fiery hot and passionate as the heat of a thousand stars.

now it is as cold as death, perhaps because death has overtaken them.

but it doesn’t matter.

not as long as they are together.

[strawberri-champagne]

Highest Self

Physical Health (exercise + diet) My Why - My body is a temple, and I deserve to worship it and be worshiped. How can I do that if I eat like garbage, I'll feel like garbage. I am a goddess waiting in human form. -one hour of dedicated physical activity daily in the morning to be done within 30 minutes of waking up (yoga flow, cardio, weight training, swimming) -diet is to be 80 / 20 for healthier foods to comfort foods (further guidelines to help change mindset) -drink only water and tea during the work week (smoothies excluded) and save sodas and alcohol for the weekend -cook for yourself until you can afford to pay someone to make your meals for you

Physical Appearance (personal grooming + style) My Why - I do not put enough self-respect on my appearance, opting to just blend in when I know what I want to look like. Standing out is not a bad thing, standing out is what I am meant to do. -skin is clear due to a consistent but simple skincare routine -hair is healthy and styled effortlessly daily -make-up is tasteful, natural looking and enhancing of my best features -nails are always well trimmed and have a coat of polish on -slowly upgrade the closet to have better quality clothes that I will know how to style into full outfits (style board to come) -take care of my clothes (iron, steam, dry clean as necessary, store properly etc) to make myself feel my best -showers daily, washing hair as needed

Career My Why - I have enough passion and drive to be in charge of my own career. Working at a job where I have zero control and where my hard work goes unrewarded is not what I want. I will achieve my dreams outside of the typical path. -be a published author of a well accepted and loved book series -create online content of lifestyle genre and have a following who relate to my passions in life -run a course to help teach others who to write stories and be more creative

Finances (income + savings) My Why - I want a luxurious life. I don't need it to be over the top, I'm not striving for that. But I want to live a life so comfortable and free of financial burden, that I can do what I want and spend how I like. I deserve and want luxury. -have multiple (minimum three) streams of income -have learned how to invest properly and are doing it well -savings are plentiful, I am never burdened by high cost goals -making over £75k yearly

Environment (home + spaces) My Why - I want to be in a space that I tailor to my life, to have it be beautiful and a representation of our life together (mine and my partner). It'll be tasteful and beautiful and quietly grand. -home office for writing that has all my 'quirkier' likes (read spookier) -beautiful 3 bedroom home -catered spaces that each have their own cohesive aesthetic with singular purpose

Relationships (lover + family + friends) My Why - You are made up of the personalities in your inner circle. So I need to be more exclusive with who has access to that inner circle. -proper date nights with the Boy, at least two a month (going out of the house, dressing up, planning) -speaking with all family members minimum two Sundays a month -actively reaching out and making plans with friends -no toxic people have the privilege of being in my life

Habits My Why - Routines are the foundation for success. These will help build who I am, turn my identities into reality, and lift me higher. -morning routine: exercise, shower, make up, style hair, planner/gratitudes, green tea -evening routine: skin care, reading, journalling, writing -Sunday resets: deep clean house, meal prep, laundry, tech free -healthy habits: vitamins, ACV shots, minimum 2L of water, bed by 10 PM, -mindset habits: no Netflix during week, reading daily, meditate, tech free after 8 PM

Spirituality My Why - I am a spiritual being. I need to find her and let her guide me through this life. -Tarot readings done as needed -Meditate with crystals -Get out in nature often -Open to studying