#I’m unemployed but i made this today so I’m doing fine

[rhizomehaunt]

imagining data has a youtube channel where he chronologically reviews every book in existence do you see my vision

[gallavichsreddie1128]

Better (Soldier Boy)

Description: Soldier Boy notices that Homelander isn’t nice to his wife so he will do anything in his power to try and get her to leave him.

Word Count:1,852k

He watched from afar as Homelander yelled and screamed at his wife. She had made a mistake and Homelander was yelling at her, not in front of anyone but he still saw it. She was so damn beautiful and sexy, he really questioned how a fuckup like Homelander got a girl like her. “You were supposed to be here with my food 20 minutes ago!” He yelled at his poor wife who was trying to talk. “There was traffic, I’m sorry there wasn’t anything I could do.” “Oh there was traffic, huh? Well maybe next time leave earlier!” Ben couldn’t watch this anymore without wanting to kill him. He had to get that poor woman out of the situation. 

“What can you tell me about Homelander’s wife?” Ben asked the boys as he walked through the door. They all looked up at him. “Y/N?” Hughie asked. “Yeah she’s his wife, right?” Hughie nodded. “So what can you tell me about her?” “Why do you wanna know about her?” Billy asked. “Homelander treat the poor girl like shit.” He said. Billy shrugged. “Eh well maybe the lady likes it.” He suggested. “Didn’t seem like it.” Everyone was confused as to why he wanted to know about her and why he cared. “What do you wanna fuck her or something?” MM asked. Soldier Boy looked at him with disgust but honestly she was breathtaking, maybe he did. “No, But she shouldn’t be treated like shit by her own husband.” He said. “She’s his wife and has been for years. She’s 10 years younger than him and she is unemployed.” Frenchie told him. They all look at the man. “What? It’s common knowledge.” “You won’t get her out of that marriage, so don’t try.” Billy told him.

Ben didn’t listen nor care what the others said. He kept a secret from the others. Homelander was his son and he hadn’t told anyone yet. He didn’t like the fucker and wanted what he had. He could treat her better than he was. It had to be fate when he saw her getting her poor excuse of a husband some food she could make. He wasn’t sure why he agreed to be the one to go get groceries for the boys but he was glad he did. He watched as she tried to reach something from the top shelf but couldn’t. He chuckled to himself and walked over to her. “Excuse me miss, do you want some help?” He asked her. She looked over at him and stopped reaching.

“If you don’t mind.” She said. He shook his head. “Not at all.” He picked up the item she was trying to reach for and handed it to her. “Thank you so much.” She said with a smile. He loved that smile now that he got to see it. “No problem.” He said and watched her put the item in the cart. “You’re Homelander’s wife, right?” He asked. She nodded but didn’t look too happy. “Yup.” She said. “Must be awesome being married to a superhero.” He said. She didn’t look thrilled about it. “Yeah, I guess.” She said. “Are you okay?” He asked her. “Yeah yeah I’m fine.” she lied. He knew she wasn’t telling the truth but didn’t say anything as he went his own way. 

It was days later that he ran into her again. As much as he would like to plan these things it’s been accidentally. She was ordering coffee and he walked up behind her in line. His eyes widened once he realized she was in front of him. “Hey, don’t I know you from somewhere?” He asked. She turned around and smiled at him. “You’re the guy from the store the other day.” She said. He smiled at her. “Yeah. My name’s Ben by the way.” He tells her. “Y/N.” She said. Though he already knew that. “You getting coffee for Homelander?” He asked her. She shook her head. “No he doesn’t need any. It’s for me.” She said. “Dealing with superheros stressful?” He asked. “Sometimes Yeah.” What she completely forgot about was the fact that Homelander had eyes on her at all times. 

“Who the fuck was that guy at the coffee shop today?” He growled. “Just someone that recognizes me.” She shrugged. “Yeah well you had a whole conversation with him.” Homelander yelled. “Am I not allowed to talk to anyone?” She asked, clearly pissed off. “Not if it’s a guy.” She rolled her eyes at him. For being The Homelander he was very insecure. “Ok whatever.” She said to him. Tears threatened to spill down her face. She was so sick of getting treated like shit.

The next time they run into each other Y/N can’t hold back anymore. He sees her at a bar drinking which surprises him. He was there to get laid but now he’s curious why she was here. He walked up to her looking around to make sure Homelander wasn’t near. “Hey 3rd times a charm, right?” She turned towards him and laughed. “I guess it is.” Her laugh wasn’t as warm as it usually is, something was wrong. “What’s got you at a place like this?” He asked. “What? You're saying a lady can’t drink her problems away.” She joked. He chuckled and shrugged. “What problems are you drinking away?” She bit her lip and debated on telling him everything. She barely knew him but it didn’t feel like it. “Everything.” She said and looked at him, sadness filling her eyes.

“What’s Everything?” He asked, taking a seat next to her. She cleared her throat and took a sip of her drink. “You would think being married to a superhero would be amazing but it’s not.” At first she had a small smile but it dropped as she continued talking. “Homelander isn’t a nice guy. He’s not what the world thinks he is.” She whispered. He couldn’t believe she was telling him this. He already knew that but the fact that she trusted him enough to tell him. “What do you mean?” He asked. “He’s not physically abusive but he’s emotionally abusive.” She tells him. “Then why are you with him?” She let out a laugh. “I can’t just leave. It’s not that simple.” She shrugged. “Why not?” He was pissed at this point. “He won’t let me. He’s crazy, Ben.” She looks at him with tears in her eyes.

All he wanted to do was give her a hug and hold her in his arms and tell her she doesn’t have to deal with him anymore. Before he could do anything they heard a hard landing outside the bar. The door pushed open and the devil himself walked in. Everyone in the bar started cheering and taking pictures of him. He waved and smiled and walked through the crowd to where Ben and Y/N were. Ben looked at Y/N and saw her eyes widen. “Don’t worry Y/N. You won’t have to deal with him anymore.” Ben whispered to her. “There you are Honey. I’ve been looking all over for you.” He said as he approached her. She looked up at him with fear in her eyes. He still hadn’t noticed Ben. Y/N watched Homelander’s smile drop as he saw Ben.

But Ben wasn’t just Ben to him, he was Soldier Boy. “Honey, you didn’t tell me you met Soldier Boy.” He said. Y/N eyes widened and looked at Ben. “You’re Soldier Boy?” She asked him. He looked at her quickly and looked back at Homelander. “Maybe.” He said. Homelander laughed. “So you’re the man that wants to take my wife away from me?” Y/N looked at him confused. “Ben is just a friend.” Y/N told her husband. “A friend? Sure whatever you say.” Homelander said sarcastically. “You treat your wife like shit, son.” Homelander was confused by him calling him son. “Excuse me?” Ben stood up. “You heard me.” Homelander laughed. “Is that what she tells you?” “No, I’ve seen it for myself. You can play the good guy act all you want around the world but I know how you are and buddy you aren’t tough.” Homelander’s eyes turned red.

Y/N quickly jumped up from out of the chair and ran to Homelander’s side. “John, it's okay. Let’s go home.” She begged. “Y/N, Don’t leave with him.” Ben told her. Homelander looked at him with anger. “What’s your angle here, pal?” He walked closer to Ben. Ben wasn’t scared of him. That showed in his eyes. “Y/N deserves better than a poor excuse of a man like you.” He said. “Oh what? Like you?” Homelander asked amused. Ben shrugged. “Maybe.” That’s what made Homelander slam him into a table. Y/N gasped with tears in her eyes. The table broke but Ben got right back up and they fought. They were both Supes so it wasn’t an easy battle. The crowd watched in shock as the two beat each other up. Totally forgetting they were in public. Y/N couldn’t move. She was shocked by everything that was said and was happening. Ben was Soldier Boy and trying to take her from Homelander?

She watched as he straddled her husband and punched his face over and over again with super strength. Tears streaming down her face as she yelled at them to stop. Once Homelander was barely conscious Ben stood up and spit on him. The crowd didn’t make a noise as he got off the man and walked over to Y/N. He held out his hand to take. She had a moment to think on whether that was a good idea or not. He just beat her husband. But she thought back to all the times Homelander was mean to her after all she did for him. He deserved to get his ass beat. She took Ben’s hand which made him smile. They walked out of the bar leaving Homelander on the ground in pain. 

They sat by the lake in silence. Not much was said since they left the bar. Y/N was still in shock by everything and didn’t know what to say. Ben looked over at her and saw how shocked she was. He didn’t blame her. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about me being Soldier Boy.” He said. She looked at him. “Was this your plan?” She asked him. He looked at her confused. “What was my plan?” “To get me away from him?” “Honestly yeah. I saw you two weeks ago arguing and he was being rude as fuck to you for no reason.” He said. “So all the times we ran into each other they weren’t by accident?” He laughed. “Actually they were.” She nodded and looked down at her wedding ring. “Well I don’t know how to thank you.” She whispered. She was now twirling the ring on her finger. “Go on a date with me.” He said. She looked up at him. She didn’t say anything to him. She got up from the bench and took her ring off. She looked down at it one more time before throwing it into the lake. 

[gh0stsp1d3r]

I just discovered your blog and OMGGG I LOVE HOW YOU WRITE!!!

Sooo is it possible a part 2 of your William fic "unemployed" please? I can't sleep without knowing what happened next !!!

Have a nice day/evening! 🫶

Thank you!! I’m glad!! (: and I’d love to

𝒰𝓃ℯ𝓂𝓅𝓁ℴ𝓎ℯ𝒹 𝓅𝒶𝓇𝓉 𝓉𝓌ℴ

Warnings- yandere themes, drugging, Stockholm syndrome, manipulation, William is enforcing gender roles…(kinda..?) read at your own risk

Part 1

“William?”

He nodded, he liked the sound of it coming from your mouth.

You were scared, not sure how to respond.

He sighed at your face, he could see you were terrified.

“We’ll have so much fun.” He said, standing up and making his way behind you.

“You want coffee? I know how you like it.” He locked the door, and picked up two mugs.

He handed one to you, which you shakily took and then he sat back down. He smiled as he took a sip, staring at you and waiting for you.

“Drink it.”

“I’m fine. I actually-“

“Drink. It.” He said, serious this time.

Your hands trembled, as you put the cup to your mouth and drunk it.

“Good girl.” He purred out, his eyes turned to something sinister, looking like he had more sinister intentions.

It didn’t take long for the drugs to set in, soon, you felt sluggish. And nauseous.

You tried to get up, which he ‘tsk’d at. He stood up in front of you, and your body fell to the floor. He watched you as you crawled at his feet, as you reached up to him before your body fell limp.

“Sweet dreams, darling:” he mumbled, taking another sip of his black coffee.

———

“Oh, you’re finally up.” He said. He checked his wrist watch. “Been a couple hours.” He sat with his legs crossed on a chair in front of you.

You looked down and saw yourself tied up into another.

“Steve, what the hell!-“

“It’s William. Not Steve. But I guess you forgot that.” He sighed. “What do you remember?”

“I remember… I went to your office, and we…” images flashed in your head.

“That was last week. What do you remember from today?”

“You drugged me. In the coffee.” You realized.

“Now you’re getting it! Alright. So, let me start off by some rules. I already have stuff for you in your room, I will choose out clothes. You won’t leave this house, I have cameras all around. Every room, and in the shower.” He smiled at the mere thought of watching the water run over your body.

“You will cook, clean, other wifely duties. If you break any of my rules, there will be punishment. You got it?”

You started to cry, was this really gonna be your life now?

“Oh, don’t cry.” He mumbled, giving you a pout. He went over to you, untied you, and just as he had hoped, you fell into his arms. Sobbing into his shoulders, gripping onto him for dead life.

“It’s okay. I’m here.” He rubbed your back soothingly, his plan was already in motion, and you were already falling for it.

When you calmed down a bit, he looked at you. You were so beautiful when you cried.

He put a hand on your cheek, his thumb caressing it. “Don’t even worry about a thing with me, love.” He laid a kiss on your forehead, and disturbingly enough, a small part of you loved it and wanted more.

—————————————————————-

That night, he’d picked out a nice dress for you to wear, it sat on the desk. You woke up with his face buried in your neck, his arms around your waist. It felt disgusting. It felt wrong.

He breathed in your scent. Today, was his day off. He wanted to relax with you all day, he wanted you to realize that he loved you more than anything.

Experimentally, he moved his hands on your waist further down. You tensed, and he realized. So he took them away. The last thing he wanted was for his darling to feel uncomfortable.

That made you relax some more again, you made yourself more comfortable now, wiggling around slightly.

He held you closer, tighter, now. He was scared that you would try to leave on him.

He kissed the back of your neck.

“Good morning.” He mumbled against your skin.

[barachiki]

I’ve been unemployed for like three days now. It is still surreal.

I’m not even mad at anyone, just … hurt?

And feeling stupid, because my name was on a list for weeks before I was let go, and there were so many projects they wanted to wrap up and for me to teach others etc. If I had a brain I would have clued in.

They let 81 people go from my 500 people company, it is an insane amount. The news article about it was saying, everything is fine we are still awesome, without any regret that they ruined 81 peoples lives.

I’ve spent most of my days in bed. Feeling pretty sorry for myself. And there has been a lot of crying. Since it feels like I was kicked out of my family, I was so close to my coworkers. And I hope to remain so.

But I had to turn in my computer and company property today and I just couldn’t handle it. It is still so raw.

I get five months severance. Which is full pay and full benefits until February. I am grateful for this, but I guess i need to know what to do with myself.

I’m just rambling now.

But I did make my spooky season queue starting tomorrow, when I managed to get out of bed.

Anyways- I’m miserable, feeling really low, brain full of intrusive thoughts and I made a mental health appointment for asap.

God I am glad I don’t drink any more.

[herejusttosufferalong]

I think I’m one of the few people willing to give A a lot of grace. I’m 23 myself too and God knows sometimes I really do stupid shit.

I think we should side eye L a LOT more. Not claiming your girlfriend and doing this hot and cold shit makes you look soooo shady. I think we all collectively would be way chiller if he just confirmed his relationship and claimed her as his official girlfriend, instead he treats her like his young and hot side piece. I would freak out on my partner if I got treated like that.

Also, I don’t know what the hell a 23 year old and a 31 year old would have in common, but thats just my opinion. Very icky!

I'm going to be real transparent here and I'm probably going to regret it.

When I was 21-24 yo I dated 3 different men, ages 32-38. They were all successful business men who paid for everything. They also made it clear what we were, casual.

That of course was fine by me as I wasn't looking to be tied to any of these men. They all had at least one kid by the way and I wasn't about to play stepmom.

There was always a massive power dynamic at play of course but I knew what I was getting into. I had a plan. All three connections were financially beneficial to me and helped me to achieve what I have today.

All three relationships ended on decent terms, one was even an initial investor in my first business several years after we parted ways.

I may have been young and naive and there may be unresolved trauma that will rear its head later on down the road but I do not regret the choice. I saw the opportunity for what it was, fleeting connections with financial benefits. Nothing more, nothing less.

Now that is my personal story. At that time in my life I was fairly mentally and emotionally stable. I knew what I was getting into and accepted it for what it was.

I have noticed a lot of people, myself included, say that A is in it for the fame, notoriety, connections, etc. I definitely believe this to be true. However, I don't believe that is all she wants out of the relationship. She clearly is seeking more, she wants to be claimed.

This is not just a transactional (business) relationship for her and that is where I have issues.

I'm 33 now and have been married for 7 years. I have grown so much and that is due in part to my wonderful husband, 34. I could not imagine looking at a 23 yo and thinking we could be anything more than casual. Interests, life/generational experiences, short/long terms goals etc. would not align or overlap.

So, I am trying to figure what a 31 yo man is doing with a 23 yo. He has a career and has navigated several long term relationships, one where they admittedly talked about marriage and kids often. Yet here he is running around with an (unemployed?) dancer fresh out of school who seems to have no real friends outside of his. She seems to lack personal identity, autonomy, and self respect.

Either he intended on this just being a casual, rebound type of situationship or he has always had a real interest in pursuing a relationship with her. The latter is hard to reconcile and throws up many red flags.

I'm also not saying a casual fling was a good idea either.

My personal experience can not translate over to everyone. We all experience things differently. What worked for me may destroy you and vice versa.

I know we pick A apart often and I probably won't stop, but just remember we can only speculate on her intentions and notions of the relationship between her and L.

[ramblingoak]

Copia is Terrible at Telling Scary Stories: Terzo Edition

Papa III tries to tell Copia’s ghouls a scary story

(gen, sfw, this is just silly)

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

“And to this day the beautiful sister can never look at her reflection.  Even if it’s in a window…even if it’s in a puddle of water.  If she ever sees her own eyes looking back at her the demon will take possession of her body.  She will be forced to spend eternity trapped inside her own mind, feeling nothing but fear and pain,” Copia watched as Terzo rested his hands behind his back and let his audience absorb the ending.  

The stupid smug bastard.

“Yes my little ghoul, do you have a question?” Copia whipped his head around and glared as Dewdrop lowered his hand.  The little gremlin had sat perfectly still the entire time, never interrupting Papa once.  The ghoul didn’t even touch any of the s’mores that were being made while Papa spoke.  Terzo had brought two sisters out with him and they had quietly made them while he told his tale, passing them out to Copia’s ghouls with little smug smiles on their faces.

“Can she look at pictures of herself?”  Copia scoffed and rolled his eyes.  Of course she could look at pictures of herself!  A picture was not the same as a reflection.  He crossed his arms over his chest and began to shake his head but he stopped and turned when he heard a growling sound.  Aether’s head was turned his way and Copia could see the glow of his purple irises through the lenses.  Alright, fine.

“Thank you Dewdrop that’s actually an excellent question,” Even through his mask it was easy to see that Dew was preening under the praise.  Sunshine leaned over and knocked her shoulder against him.  A quick grin full of fangs flashing in the opening of her mask.  What in the fuck was happening?  Did Terzo drug his ghouls?

“You see, the poor sister can technically look at pictures of herself.  She can even have her picture taken!  But everytime she looks at them she only sees the demon staring back at her.  It only appears to her, but it’s there no matter how old it is.  It could be a picture of her as a baby or one someone just took of her today.”  Copia heard Swiss mutter about how horrible that was and honestly what the fuck?  He was about to grab one of the sticks the sisters used to roast marshmallows with and stab himself in the face.

“Alright, well I hope everyone had fun!  Tummies full of chocolate and marshmallows yeah?” Terzo stood up and gently cupped Cumulus’s chin.  When he let go she leaned into Cirrus and they giggled together.  Maybe Copia should just summon a whole batch of new ghouls.  Really mean ones. Terzo motioned to the sisters he brought with him and they started to gather up their supplies.

“Wait, don’t worry Papa, we’ll clean up!” Rain chirped from his place between Aether and Mountain.  Lucifer even Rain had been enthralled.  Like Papa was some sort of warlock.  Honestly that made sense.  What else would’ve made his ghouls sit there and listen to that story without interrupting?  No one even stole food or bit each other!  

“Thank you, sweet Rain.  You are always so helpful, actually all of you are.  I’m sure our Cardinal knows how lucky he is, eh?” Copia gritted his teeth at the sight of Mountain shaking his head ‘no’. All. New. Ghouls.  “Alright ladies, let’s go back to my room and uh, clean up a bit yeah?”  The sisters giggled as they each held onto an arm and made their way from the fire and back towards the abbey.  Dewdrop even waved at them as they passed.  

Copia watched as his soon to be unemployed ghouls began to pick up after Papa.  They were talking with each other excitedly.  Probably fawning over Papa and how good his story was.  How delicious the s’mores were.  His stupid handsome face.

He was brought out of his thoughts when he heard a throat clear.  Terzo and his companions had stopped right next to Copia and were whispering to each other.  The sisters smiled and let go of Terzo to keep walking towards the abbey.  Papa lightly slapped their asses as they left his side and their giggles echoed around the campfire.

Copia remained perfectly still as Terzo’s attention switched to him.  Copia looked at him warily, unsure of what was going through the man’s head.  Papa stepped up close to Copia and then leaned in next to his ear, “Well that wasn’t so hard now, was it?”  Papa stepped back and gave Copia a wink and then went to jog after the sisters.

Smug fucking asshole.

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

my masterlist

my ao3

[avareiahgt]

GT July Prompts 2024

Day 5: Fawning

—Don’t mess with me, Connor, I did nothing— Hanna said pointing at me with a tiny finger I could barely see.

—I spent years of my life for Alec to tell me his whole family story and now he tells you after some weeks? Doll, you sure have an effect on him— I said, smirking.

We were both sitting on Alec’s couch, Hanna sitting down on the top of the back while I looked up at her form from my lying position.

—I didn’t push him or anything. I guess I just asked the right questions—she explained.

—Maybe if I were a small sweet pretty girl in a hurry, he would tell me as well… But, oh! Wait—I made a dramatic pause— I’ve always been a small sweet guy in a hurry, even today…

—Not small enough— she smirked down at me. In confidence she was kind of a teaser. Something told me she was not this salty with Alec. Otherwise, he would had thrown she away… would he?

—Not that my actual height gives me some advantage in life right now—I spilled, half joking, half serious.

—Trust me when I say you have it way better— she stated and a hand made its way to her leg, forever marked.

—It really amazed me that you survived that thing, tho—I started—. Your life was quite on the line, you know?

She made a soft sound, like showing she was listening but thinking at the same time.

—I’m so persistent— she simply said.

—I can see that— a soft but true laugh scaped my throat.

—What did you do to convince Alec to tell you his story? —curiosity was my favorite sin, also the most dangerous. I didn’t think long my response.

—I just followed him until he answered— I shrugged.

She lowered herself a bit to look down at me from her privileged seat.

—Really? That was your strategy? —she seemed surprised, not for long, anyways.

—Of course. I met his sister before, but I didn’t know they were siblings until he insulted me some day.

—What? He did insult you?

—Yeah, tons of times, but that was our first meeting. I have photographic memory; I could quote every single day of my life since I was six with no mistakes— I explained.

—Wow… that’s impressive and quite useful—she whistled in amazement.

—Also, I got to remember all the bad things I would love to forget— I commented.

—Sure… Nevermind, why did he insult you on first place? — she insisted and I appreciated avoiding the memory curse theme.

—I got tangled in some… hairy situations. All my fault of course. The thing is that Vecca, his sister, dismissed me and I found a grumpy teenager calling me an idiot, in addition to my unemployed state. Actually, he was right and Vecca was right to dismiss me, too.

—Do I wanna ask? — she wondered.

—You can— I submitted myself.

—I assure you don’t want to ask, just let him flatter you some more— Alec’s voice came from where he was standing on the corridor doorframe.

—Or we could keep talking about your bravery and the stubbornly that took you to live enough to have this chat— I said as if the idea was mine.

—You’re connecting fine, I’m back to work— he muttered and disappeared into his study once more.

—Excuse him, he’s not the chatty type.

—Really? He chats with me so well— Hanna said.

I got instantly offended.

—Why he doesn’t with me? I’m so sad now— I sat up and my fast move thew Hanna off balance even sitting. I held one of her arms to keep her from roll. My head was now some inches below her. I freed her arm when she was stable again and she touched it like it burned. Maybe I was being rude with so much physical contact.

—Maybe if you keep adoring me, I would give you some advices for talking to him, but I warn you it won’t be as effective as if you were a small pretty girl.

—I will sign the deal— I accepted, offering her a finger for a handshake.

She used a tiny hand I almost didn’t feel on my skin and shook it, sealing the verbal contract.

—Now, you can keep talking about how beautiful and well-behaved and strong I am—she smiled.

—Did I say all of that stuff?

[trainsandcoffee]

07/22/2024

I still can’t wrap my head around why it takes me so long to get up and moving and doing stuff in the morning. There are rarely any pressing matters that need to be dealt with, unless something is needed for the day’s dinner, or there’s an appointment to attend.

It felt good to be productive today - lifting and moving stuff made me feel strong, like I had forgotten what it was like to work, and fair, I *have* been unemployed for a few months. Did I do anything that needed to be done today? No, but I did something that felt good for my soul. I haven’t touched any tools in such a long time. It feels good to be building stuff again.

I’ve had so much time alone since January that it feels like my thoughts are ready to consume me. I’m convinced my relationship is broken, when in reality, everything is fine, and I’m trying to find any tiny excuse to cause problems, when I know there are no problems to solve. *I* am the problems, but I don’t know how to fix it.

I have to stop thinking about the darkness when I write - I want to have a positive outlook on journaling so I can keep doing it.

It’s gotta help me.

Nothing else can.

[sluttbuttsstuff]

Silver Chariot Agency: An Introduction

This is the first chapter/prologue to my jjba sugar daddy au.  To clarify, it’s modern day, with reader x various Jojo characters, all of which are of age, and “sugar daddies”.  I’m hoping to have several options/outcomes for various characters, kind of like a chose you own adventure story, or a dating visual novel.  As a note, this story may contain some dark themes and content, including drug use, yandere, sex scenes, and other things I haven’t currently planned out.

TLDR: this is the story about Y/N, who starts working at Polnareff’s sugar daddy agency and meets lots of hot jojo guys

ENJOY!!!

“Mr. Polnareff is ready to see you now!”  The cheerful secretary (Suzy, you think)  calls out, breaking you from your stupor and ushering you behind large, intimidating doors.   You grew up with dreams bigger than this, having a good career, doing something important with your life, but life had other plans.  You’ve been unemployed for nearly a year, and despite all the classes you’ve taken, interviews you’ve aced, and concessions to pay and pride just to be considered, you still had no job, and your unemployment had finally run out.  Long story short, you were desperate.  That’s when you first heard about the Agency.

You had noticed an email from the Silver Chariot Agency buried between job applications and rejection letters, and confusing it for a job offer, had opened it to read.  According to the email, you had been “scouted” as someone with the qualifications to apply for what appeared to be a Sugar Daddy, or Escort, service.    The email was polite, open and honest, but you couldn’t help but be a bit skeptical, if not mildly offended. There’s nothing wrong with sex work, mind you, but it wasn’t something you had any interest in if you could avoid it. You weren’t interested in selling yourself, and even if you weren’t wealthy, you weren’t ready to auction off your time to creepy old perverts just yet.  Not to mention, how safe were these agencies?  Still, the email had an open doors policy for any questions, as well as a phone number and email to direct all your questions.  You were going to delete the email, but somehow you couldn’t bring yourself to.  You saved it in your folder, and forgot about it for a few months.

Cut to today:  you couldn��t cover your rent, your auto bill, and your credit cards were maxed out.  After sending an email, and talking on the phone to a cheerful woman, she convinced you to visit their offices and talk to their C.E.O,  who was visiting your nearest location on business.  Surprised by their openness, and relieved not to have a door slammed in your face for once, you made an appointment and were now following Suzy through an impressive office space.  Silver Chariot had its own expensive looking building, with high ceilings, metal tones and spotlessly clean wall to wall windows and mirrors.  The place reeked of elegance, intimidatingly so, and you regretted your outfit choice for this interview.  

Suzy finally escorted you into a conference room, with an expansive metal table and tufted leather chairs that probably cost more than your car.  Then, at the end of the conference table, you saw a silver haired gentleman, who Suzy introduced as, “Mr. Polnareff, this is y/n, call me if you need anything!”  and with that, she left and closed the door.  You noticed  Mr.Polnareff didn’t stand up to greet you and shake your hand-not out of rudeness, but because he was in a wheelchair.  On top of that, he had an unusual looking eye patch, and despite clearly being too young to be considered elderly, had prematurely grey hair slicked back in an unusual pompadour.

He shook your hand firmly, and smiled at you as he greeted you, “It’s so lovely to meet you, y/n, I've been looking forward to seeing you in person.  Tell me, what brings you here today?”  He asked, sitting forward and listening intently.  You fiddled with your hands, trying to politely, but vaguely, explain your situation, without sounding too much like a sob story.  Polnareff listened without interrupting, merely nodding, as you explained what you’ve been through.

  “That sounds like a difficult situation- it is difficult in this day and age for young people to support themselves, even more so when they have no one to help them when needed.  I, myself, had to support not only myself, but my younger sister, Cherie, when I was your age.  It was difficult, to say the least, and I didn’t always handle it gracefully to be honest with you.  When my sister saw how much we were struggling, she decided to try helping herself and me by turning to sex work.”

You were shocked by his openness, telling so much of his personal story to a total stranger interviewing at his agency.  He continued,

“Back in my day, the streets of France were not a safe place to sex workers, least of all vulnerable women unable to defend themselves.  It was one of those nights, while my sister was working, that she was tragically attacked and killed.  She had no way of protecting herself, as I wasn’t with her, and the police were just as dangerous.  She died alone because no one was willing to help save her, myself included.  He paused, rubbing his temples as he remembered.

You tried to stop him, “Um, you don’t have to-”  you began, but he held up a hand and assured you,

 “I am fine, it is a painful, but old wound, and important you hear.  It was the most devastating event of my life, but it shaped me into the man I am today.  You see, because of what happened to my sister, I was determined to provide a safe place to any and all women and sex workers, no questions asked, to protect them from things that could happen to them.  Sex work is not something to be criminalized or judged; it is the oldest profession and a valuable work. So, The Silver Chariot Agency provides a safe way to support those in the industry.  That being said, working as an escort, or as it's sometimes called, ‘sugar baby’-”

 he punctuates the term with bunny ear fingers, “-Can be dangerous work.  There is always a risk of assault, and rape, however hard we may try to combat it, but our agency has extremely strict policies and protection plans to protect our workers in either case. I promise , should you decide to work here, that I will do everything in my power to keep you safe.”  Polnareff grabs your hand, looking into your eyes, intensely.  

You know you’ve just met him, but you’re inclined to believe Polnareff.  He’s either an excellent liar, or simply cares deeply about his company and employees.  

“There are, of course, other things to consider before you decide to take this job.  It is  a job, and many of our clients aren’t looking for romance, but some are hoping to find love and a potential romantic partner via our agency.  Some are looking for purely sexual relationships, and some want nothing to do with sex.  Some of our clients are involved with...less than legal hobbies and activities, and we strongly caution you not to get involved, as our legal department and contracts can only protect you so far.  If you decide to engage, do so with caution. 

“ Lastly, you ultimately get to decide who you want to pick as your clients, so choose wisely.  I have Suzy-”  He gestures to the woman, presumably waiting down the hall to escort you when ready, “Write up summaries and information on every applicant who have expressed an interest in our agency.  Make sure to carefully review them, and choose the client you think will have the best relationship.”  He finishes, giving you a lot to think of.  He can see the gears turn in your mind, and gives you time.  “Please, don’t feel like you have to respond today. Or, if you try this out and don’t like it, you can leave the agency or specific clients, with no fear of repercussions.”  He Pulls away from the table, and turns towards the door, before pausing.

He seems to change his mind, shaking his head as Suzy gets the door for him.

“I look forward to seeing you again, regardless of your decision, mon amie.  I’ll let Suzy handle the rest for today, thank you.  If you decide to accept, just call Suzy and ask her to see some client applications to pick out who you’d like to work with. Au revoir.”  And with that, Mr. Polnareff disappears with surprising speed.  Any other questions and details are handled by Suzy, who cheerfully tells you about the position, average salaries, tax information, and your typical FAQ.  You listen mutely, occasionally nodding along,  but you’re still thinking about everything Polnareff told you.  You could not only support yourself with this  job, but make a killing, while still being safe and having a say in the relationships.  This could work. This could work…

Less than 24 hours later, Suzy gets another phone call at the office.  “Silver Chariot Agency, this is Suzy, how may I assist you today?”  She asks cheerily.  A familiar voice whispers on the other end, “Do you think I could see some of those client Applications, please?”

[steddieism]

Hello everyone my name is Jordan. I’m neurodivergent. I decided to create a GoFundMe to at least try to help me pay for the medication and therapy sessions I will need in order to fight my ocd, depression and anxiety.

It's been many years since I have been trying to help myself with my situation, having come from a family that was so close-minded (and I’m not blaming them. I know they weren’t taught about it and didn’t have the awareness and resources we have today) made my situation worse for me because I was unable to express that I had any sort of issues with myself. Everyday was a constant battle, in my mind and out in the real world. I was constantly blamed for having any issues with my mental health, family members telling me things like "You don't need medication, you look fine”

“It’s your fault you're upset, try to be happy" or “Everyone has ocd.”

“You are doing this for attention.”

“Somebody has it worse than you.”

My family is very close minded when it comes to mental health and I’m trying to educate them but it’s hard. In addition to this, therapy and consultation is very expensive. I felt so lonely and so alone with my struggles, expressing myself would just lead to disaster and in the end it just lead to me thinking I was making things up in my mind. I am now 21, and after many years of my thoughts and feelings being minimized I decided I'd try and do something for myself. The issue is I can't do it by myself though, I'm in college and I'm currently unemployed since it's extremely hard to find a job here in this country, especially with the pandemic. And my family can’t pay for therapy (my mom is a single mom with 4 kids and 3 of us are in college and my dad is dead). Honestly, even one (1) american dollar is worth a lot here.

Also, I am a sapphic muslim and I’m having a lot of trouble accepting myself in terms of my religion. I have internalized homophobia and hopefully therapy will help me. So here I am, asking for help. I am thinking just 3k is enough to help in the long run but anything lower will surely help me too. I appreciate everything that is given.

Thank you for taking your time to read this! If you can’t donate, I totally understand, and I would really appreciate a retweet and a like if you’re able to. Again, I’m sorry for doing this so much recently, but please help if you can. Thank you so much!

gofundme link: https://www.gofundme.com/f/help-jordan-afford-their-medication?utm_source=customer&utm_medium=copy_link&utm_campaign=p_cf+share-flow-1

paypal: https://www.paypal.com/paypalme/ciaraforan

[joyfulhopelox]

Rosy Carnation

Pairing: painter!Min Yoongi x skater!reader (non-idol! au)

Genre: fluff, tiny bit of angst

Warnings: some talk about social anxiety, Yoongi is a bit harsh in the beginning but rest is just pure fluff

Word count: 6k

rating: pg

Summary: There was nothing in this world that Yoongi hated more than busybodies. Unfortunately for him one particular ditzy skater decides to break the peace by crashing into his life and offering him a rosy carnation

Copyrights @joyfulhopelox for both the work and the banner (thank you @mochi-molala for giving me the artistic approval for this think you didn’t realise how much it helped)

This is part 3 of my Love Blossom series and quite unedited, i tried but some mistakes may have escaped my notice

As always please leave feedback and/or talk to me as i love to hear from you! Enjoy <3

There was nothing more peaceful than being able to sit by the river in the early hours of the morning. Every day without fail, Yoongi would take advantage of the sleeping city and set camp by the riverside situated just on the outskirts.

The place was far from being secluded, its location sign-posted by the popular park that housed it. But he knew that during those hours no one bothered to visit, everyone was busy with their office jobs. It wasn’t that he was unemployed, it just so happened that his job allowed him to work from wherever and at whatever time. In fact, the more scenic the location the better for him. As a painter he had the freedom to choose his office, and his most prefered location happened to be by the riverside. The stillness of the morning, the sun just about to peek out from under the city skyline and the sound of the birds conversing amongst each other relaxed him. And if there was one thing that permitted Yoongi to paint without restrictions, was the tranquility of everything around him.

His normal spot, under a beech tree, was rarely used, the pathway that passed by it not being used by the general population. Sometimes he would spot the occasional cyclist passing by on their way to work, sometimes he would hear the scraping of the skateboards doing tricks in the skate park located behind the wall of trees that surrounded him. But no one ever bothered him, or was bothered by him. And it suited him and his needs just fine.

Yoongi disliked it when his flow was interrupted. Luckily for him, it rarely happened. No one threw him more than a glance as no one found the scene to be out of place. Sometimes he would be pulled out of his thoughts by the yap of a dog that got too excited at the prospect of a new human. Other times he would be questioned by the curious child that has never seen a painter at work. Those did not inconvenience him, the innocence and sincerity of the interference was enough to not disturb him.

However, what he miscalculated that day was the early start of the fishing season. One bad trait of being a painter working under your own schedule was losing track of time. And so when that one morning he trudged along with his canvas and his tools to his sacred spot only to find it occupied by fishermen he almost had a panic attack. He forgot all about that, and so unprepared, he did not know what to do or where to relocate. Pausing for a couple of minutes, his eyes scrutinising the men sitting on the riverbank in complete stillness, he contemplated on setting up his stool next to them. But when one of them yelled in glee at having caught a fish, he decided he’d rather not. Fishermen needed to be still because of the nature of their activity, that did not mean they were quiet people overall.

Disappointed and a bit frazzled, Yoongi picked up his canvas from where he set it next to his foot and left the area to scout for a substitute.

After what felt like a good few minutes of walking in circles, he found himself passing by a small public garden right in the middle of the greenery encompassing the riverside. He inspected it quietly, his eyes taking in the flower arrangements and the neatly cut grass. Has that always been there? Probably, it is not like he ventured out of his safe spot. But now, when forced to he realised that maybe there were other places where he could sit and paint in peace. Determinately, he walked into the small gated garden familiarising himself with the layout. There were some benches strewn across the space, all of them framed by vibrant rose bushes, some young oak trees judging by their height but what caught his eye most importantly was the small gazebo tucked away at the back of the garden gated by rows of variously coloured carnations. He decided that it would be the perfect spot, it would have to do for now. Not like he had any other choice. The morning was almost gone, the heat of the midday sun bleeding its way into the breeze. Soon the park will get busier and busier.

Dumping his belongings on the ground he sets off to unpack everything so he could get started. He felt strangely excited about this new spot he had found. Somehow, the novelty of the environment has given him the inspiration that he needed for today’s session. He normally shied away from new experiences, new people and most importantly unexpected circumstances, but this circumstance was more than welcome.

As he sat on his stool, paint brush in hand, the blank canvas staring at him, daring him to fill it with his vision he bit his lip. Suddenly so many ideas zoomed through his mind that he had a hard time deciphering which one sounded the best.

However, none of them made it on the actual canvas.

A skateboard zoomed straight past his feet,out of control, knocking into his carefully placed tools; acrylics and brushes scattered all over the ground in various corners of the gazebo. An exasperated yell and some harsh pants followed said abomination. Yoongi, who was too stunned to even form a sentence or comprehend what was happening around him, stared as you ran towards him at full speed.

“I’m so sorry, sorry sorry sorry” you repeated zooming towards him at breakneck speed. Still in shock Yoongi still couldn’t process what was happening around him. You were going to barrel straight into him but all he could do was blink, his brain still trying to catch up with the situation. One moment you were running towards the skateboard and the next moment found you laying sprawled at his feet.

“Ouch” Yoongi blinked once, twice, three times, and reality finally caught up with him.

He stared at the mess around him. His canvas was lying on the ground a few good feet away from him, its white clean surface now completely smudged with dirt and his acrylics and brushes were all scattered at his feet. The sight of his paints not only disorganised in such a fashion but also crushed and spilled all over the ground caused his stomach to drop. They were not the cheapest and they were also the only ones he had left. It was clear there was nothing to salvage, he had to go once more to the art store and buy more.

“Ohmygod i am so sorry!” The frantic voice was loud enough to make Yoongi wince.

You were not having a good day, and it showed. You started the morning by burning your toast. Then you forgot to grab your keys, which resulted in you having to beg your landlord for the spare in the early hours of the morning. To say they were not pleased was an understatement. You spilled coffee on your white top on your way to the park. And to top it all off you ended up hurtling towards an extremely handsome man.

You decided in the morning that you would try to learn that late kickflip your friends have been trying to teach you, but as a new skater you decided to practice in the garden just off the side of the skate park. One foot placement went wrong and your skate ran from under your feet flying towards the unsuspecting victim.

Luckily it did not hit him, however it scattered all of his belongings all over the dirty ground. It felt as if you were watching all of that happen in slow motion, when in reality it probably only took you a second to react. Trying to help and get a hold of your skate, you rushed to catch it in time before it disappeared into the row of carnations. But you miscalculated entirely the distance between you and the stranger, his foot halting your run.

And that is how you ended up there, on the floor, at his feet, covered in his paints.

You sprung up as fast as you could ignoring the tingling in your leg and started apologising profusely. However, the harshness at which you crashed on the floor combined with the speed at which you got up were a fatal combination. The blood rushed to your feet quicker than you could process and your knees gave out from under you. In an attempt to not crash onto the floor again you grabbed onto the closest stable object you could. Only, it happened to not be an object but a person. So with a clammy hand you latched onto the man in front of you.

Yoongi did not know what to do. You had grabbed onto him with such conviction that his brain malfunctioned. He hated to be touched, especially by strangers. And so when the fight or flight instinct kicked in he shrugged you off violently causing you to crumple on the floor once again.

“Ouch.” Your butt hurt and you wanted to be annoyed at him, but when you looked up to let your feelings known and your eyes locked onto his panicked ones, you paused. He looked ready to run off on you. “I- uh, am sorry” You tried once more to get up, this time as slowly as you could. You knew there would be a bruise later but it was not something you were unfamiliar with.

Yoongi did not respond to you. He couldn’t, his brain was still ready to shut down. He normally ran away from any human interaction, the nature of his job enough to facilitate such behaviour. Being faced with it and in such an unexpected way caused his anxiety to be at an all time high. And so he did what he normally does best; he retreated within himself completely ignoring your apology.

Silently he stepped away from you and crouched down to start picking up his belongings. With an anguished sigh he took in the mess that his acrylics had become. It was going to cost him a lot to be able to replace them but what other choice did he have?

Taking his silence as a sign of anger, you panicked. If there was one thing you could not stand was to see someone angry. Especially when it was directed at you. In an attempt to amend yourself to him you crouched down next to him and started picking up his stuff. “I am really sorry. I didn't mean to. It was just a new trick that i wanted to learn, and i am a newbie at all this and so i was scared to go to the skate park and try them. And I am a clutz and I knew this was going to happen at some point! The day has already started on such a bad note-”

You knew you were rambling, you were nervous. But Yoongi did not care about that. He just wanted you gone. He wanted his peace back, he wanted to get his work done and retreat back to his home and most importantly, he wanted you to get your hands off of his possessions.

Without looking at you, he harshly grabbed for the brushes that you had gathered in your hand. “Leave” he surprised himself at how resolute he managed to sound despite the slight waver in his voice.

“Are you angry? Oh my god you are! I am so sorry again, let me make it up to you! I really did not mean to destroy your work!” you get up once more rushing towards the canvas that lay a few feet away from the two of you. Picking it up you stare at the blank piece of material.

“Oh, are you an artist?” you turn to him, your eyes sparkling with excitement. Completely forgetting the incident from earlier you giddily walk over, the canvas extended towards him.

Yoongi could not believe his eyes, your brash behaviour in front of a complete stranger that has made it clear he wanted nothing to do with you was baffling to him. He contemplated for a second the thought of you being deaf, but then no because you had clearly heard him the first time. His anxiety quickly morphed into annoyance, if you weren’t going to leave he decided he would.

Taking a hold of the canvas you were handing over to him he pulled it out of your hands and stuffed it under his arm. Crouching down again he hurriedly stuffs his brushes and acrylics in his bag. He wanted to get out of there as quickly as he could before you had the chance to touch any of his belongings again.

“Hey, i-uh. Please don’t be angry. I really am sorry. Look you don’t have to leave, i will go” Yoongi paused, his hand hovering above his palette. Chancing a glance at you, his eyes widened a fraction. You looked completely frazzled. Not even looking at him, your eyes focused on your fretting hands. He could just about see a snippet of your face and the way your bottom lip was trembling slightly made his anger melt a little. Maybe he has been a bit too harsh on you.

“Yes” he offers offhandedly whilst placing his canvas back to where it was before.

At his change in tone your head snaps up and you gape at him. “What?” you breathe out in surprise. His soft but deep voice took you by surprise. It was extremely smooth and you had not expected it to come out of his mouth.

He did not offer you anything else, leaving you gawking at him, watching as he set up his canvas onto the easel. You were silent for a couple of minutes trying to understand what he had meant when it finally hit you.

“Ah! You are an artist! That is amazing, what type of paintings do you do? Is it nature?” you clapped your hands excitedly. “Of course it is nature Y/N, he is in the middle of the gazebo how dumb can you be” you muttered to yourself whilst shaking your head.

Yoongi glanced at you from his periphery. He wasn’t feeling as threatened by your presence as he had before, but that did not mean he was comfortable with you being there. He observed you for a couple of seconds watching as you muttered to yourself for the time being. He took it as a chance to set his palette down and tried to squeeze whatever was left of his acrylics onto it.

You realised a bit too late that you had started daydreaming whilst muttering to yourself and so with rosy cheeks you mutter another apology.

“You apologise too much.” Yoongi did not know where his courage had come from but he couldn’t stop the words spilling from his mouth. “I asked you to leave.” His harsh words caused you to flinch, but your eagerness to see him paint rooted you on the spot.

“Is-uh,” you took a deep breath in trying to calm your beating heart, “is it ok if i stay here and watch you?” You cringed at how voyeuristic that sounded. But you had to admit to yourself, the honey haired guy, with soft plump cheeks and pouty lips has caught your interest and you were not ready to part with him just yet.

Yoongi didn’t respond, he’s made it clear he wanted you gone, but he finally understood that the clumsy human that managed to wreck his set up was a stubborn one. He chose instead to ignore your presence and settle on his painting, giving you unspoken permission to do as you pleased.

Catching onto the meaning of his silence you beamed and sat yourself down.

Trying your hardest to be silent you bit your lip. You knew he wouldn’t appreciate you disturbing him any longer. Soon enough, you slipped into a daydream your eyes focused on the flowers behind the hunched form of the intriguing artist.

Yoongi sighed in satisfaction, his painting was finally finished. He had opted to use greens this time, the nature around him inspiring the concept behind this. However, he could not help but add the dots of red here and there, its fiery tumultuous colour breaking the tranquility of the greens. Just like you had thundered into his life just earlier.

“Woah” broken out of the daydream by the sound of his sigh, your eyes focused on the painting before you. You knew you were easily impressed but this painting was stunning. “That is so cool” you whispered in awe.

Yoongi blushed, he had been complimented a lot on his work, but there was something about the sincerity shining through your statement that frazzled him. He nodded in acknowledgment. He had enough knowledge to be aware that he needed to thank you for the compliment.

“Oh!” you sprung up suddenly the transition making him jump. “I am late!” You quickly picked up your skateboard. “Ah,” stopping mid run you turn back. Rushing to the bushes of carnations you pick one up. With confident stride you head back.

Yoongi watched you, once again his mind completely discombobulated by your abruptness. When you halt in front of him and push the flower into his hands he doesn’t know how to react. Instead he just sits there waiting for your next move, his mind once again preparing him to flee.

“It was nice meeting you….uh?” You realised you did not ask for his name, so as you urge the flower into his grasp you wait patiently for him to offer it to you. When after a minute of silence he doesn’t you try again. “What is your name?”

“So can you like...teach me how to paint?” you eyes brightened at the thought.

“What?” Yoongi sputtered. A week has passed since the first time you decided to literally crash into his life. A week of your mindless chatter. Even so, he had tried his best to ignore you and your childish view of the world. He was ignoring you, but it was not like he couldn’t hear you.

He was not expecting that request, and yet, it shouldn’t have come as a surprise to him. Your randomness and innocence has been taking his breath away from the moment he saw you. You were all over the place, clumsy and random. He did not want to sit and ponder at that thought, feeling the shiver of anxiety creep back in. Schooling his expression to a neutral one he shook his head and went back to his canvas.

“No” the harsh tone of his voice made you flinch.

Not noticing the effect his words had on you he carried on, “You’d do a very poor job of it, and it hurts to think you’d waste all this material for some doodles.” Not giving you a chance to respond he sighed and put his brush down. “Finally finished.” He sat and observed his work for a couple of moments. He was satisfied, it was not his best work but he liked the outcome. The blue colour scheme gave him a sense of peace.

Realising the silence had gone on too long he turned around to face you. You were unnaturally quiet, your face scrunched up as if in deep thought. He would have thought you’d gone into one of your daydreams if not for the shiny gloss in your eyes. He could not understand why his heart did that flip, or why his mouth formed into a frown mirroring your own. Had he said something wrong? Mulling over his words he decided that maybe his tone was too harsh but you spoke up before he could try to remedy it.

“Ah, i see, you are right” you sniffed trying to mask the tears in your voice. “I am quite clumsy, there is no way i can make something as beautiful as this.” You gesture to his work, the canvas a swirl of blues, it reminded you of the ocean. You did not know why his words stung, it’s not like he didn’t have a point. You were probably incapable of creating something like that. Stick figures were all you could draw, and even those tended to be lopsided.

Yoongi’s heart clenched. “Uhh-” he did not know what to say, it wasn’t as if he could take it back. He did not want to take it back, he wasn’t a liar. But maybe he could have turned you down a bit softer than he has. He may have been awkward in social situations and missed a lot of cues, but the tears gathered in your eyes were hard to miss. Even he could sense the sadness that overpowered the atmosphere.

“It’s ok, i need to, uh go. I’ll see you next time. Here” you quickly drop something next to his brushes and without a second thought you turn away from him and leave as quickly as you’d arrived.

With your back turned towards him, your feet taking you further and further away you could finally release the sob that has been threatening to surface.His words hurt. But you were well aware it was not the words that caused the tear in your heart. It was the unfeeling and harsh way he threw them at you. You contemplated whether or not you should chance a glance behind you, but decided against it. You did not think you could stand the sight of him stepping on the last bit of dignity you had. A rosy carnation.

Yoongi knew he usually missed a lot of social cues. For example when the curator asked him out for a coffee and he told them he stopped drinking caffeine because it caused insomnia. Or when the gallery director had wanted to shake his hand in greeting and he simply just stared at it. It wasn’t as if he was unfamiliar with them, it was just that it took him a lot longer to process these cues than the average human being.

When you’d left him the carnation he simply threw a glance at it but did not give it a second thought as he carried on painting. He almost left it there when he packed up his tools- almost stepping on it. He saw it just in time, the rosy colour attracting his attention. He bent down and picked it up gently; the flower was almost wilted from the heat. Prepared to throw it away he thought of you and stopped. The sight of your flushed cheeks, your distressed eyes and the gleam of your tears weighing heavily on his mind. With a sigh he cradled the flower in his palm, he would put it in between the pages of a book and press it dry.

Yoongi had no clue why he kept visiting the gazebo to work on his paintings. His previous spot so rarely visited that he’s almost forgotten where it was. He tried to convince himself it was because fishing season has not ended and so he would have been bothered by the men setting up around him. He tried not to think of the fact that the thought of not having your voice there, or the noises of the skateboard you practiced with caused him distress. He told himself it was because after a month of having you there with him, you became part of his routine. Like the background noise of a radio in the morning.

He could not pinpoint when your mindless chatter and pleas to ask him to teach you how to paint had become comforting to him. Even at home when he would try to read, he would pick up a book and open it only to come across a rosy carnation drying in between its pages.

You had made it a habit to leave him a flower every time you came to see him. He did not ponder too long as to why, but he’s kept them all. He did not want to ponder too long on that thought either. So he ignored it, but deep down he knew why.

Your eagerness, your clumsiness, your childish view of the world were enough to melt the wall he has built around himself. Somehow, you chipped at that wall with determination just like you did on the first day you met. Ungraceful and uncoordinated.

He knew you’d wormed your way into his soul and just like the flowers he kept pressing for safekeeping, he’s ingrained the memory of you into his brain.

When you’d started to ask more personal questions he found himself answering without a second thought.

“So, uh, have you always wanted to be a painter?” You were sat next to him tinkering with the wheels of your skateboard, from time to time getting distracted at the way his long fingers were clutching the brush. You blushed, thankful he was distracted by his work.

“No,” Yoongi paused to bend down and pick his palette and you thought that was the extent of the information he was willing to provide. “My parents wanted me to be a lawyer.” With a new colour on his brush he squinted focusing on getting the lines just right, the tip of his tongue sticking out slightly in concentration.

The silence that ensued settled heavily around the two of you. “Oh,” your voice did not sound too surprised. Yoongi glanced at you, you were gazing at him with such understanding that he found it hard to tear his gaze away. “Are they happy you chose to do what you love instead?” You carried on, trying out your luck.

Yoongi looked away from you, he couldn’t say what he wanted to say whilst your eyes were digging deep into his soul. “I wouldn’t know.” He shrugged as if to make a point. “I left home to move here and haven’t spoken to them since.”

The words, heavy as lead, echoed in your brain. But they were not unfamiliar. “I am sure they would want to talk to you. My parents died when i was young and i was raised by my grandparents.” Your voice sounded casual, but the slight change of tone made Yoongi raise his eyes to look at you. You were smiling at him, your face not giving away any of the pain you were feeling inside.

Yoongi may have been socially anxious, but he was observant, he couldn’t help it, it was the nature of his job. His eyes picked up on the way your chin trembled and his ears caught the slight waver in your voice. He didn’t know how it happened until he felt the corners of his mouth raising up. And with an uncertain smile in your direction, he managed to erase the sadness that clouded over your face.

“Pick up that brush” his tone softer than you have ever heard it.

“Huh?” You didn’t know where the change in tone had come from, but it managed to take you by surprise.

“Pick up the brush,” he repeated his head nodding in the direction of said tools. “And come here.” He stood up from his stool gently grabbing your wrist and pulling you up. The contact of his cold hands on your warm ones made you shiver, but in the heat of the summer it felt comforting. You savoured the way his gentle hands pulled you into the chair and handed you the brush he had been holding. Softly he guided your hand onto the canvas and your breath stopped.

His hands, the hands you had been observing ever since you met him, were smooth. His long slender fingers imprinting themselves onto the back of your hand. You couldn’t tear your gaze away from the way the pale skin of his slender wrist peeked from under the long sleeve he was wearing. The skin on the inside of his wrist almost translucent enough to allow his veins to show.

“Like this” he steered the brush onto the canvas, his voice so close to your ear it made you your heart skip a beat. When the bristles made contact with the material of the canvas leaving the mark of the acrylic on it, you knew. Just like the doodle he’s made, his mark on your heart would be permanent.

Yoongi didn’t know when he started craving your touch. It just happened. He carried on giving you lessons, finding it ironic how adamant he was at the beginning to refuse you. Little by little he started looking forward to his morning ritual of setting up in the garden, your clumsy self stumbling in the gazebo just as he was about to set his easel down. He would not even sit himself first, he would grab your hand allowing himself to revel in the way your smaller rough hand would fit into his larger one and sit you on the stool. Handing you the brushes he would sit next to your skateboard and watch as you tried to create something on the canvas, your brows furrowed in concentration.

How ironic that you would switch places. He would sit for a couple of hours watching your uncertain movements and listen to the small sounds of glee when you’d manage to get the brush to do what you wanted it to. His heart would pound in his chest when your tongue would flit across your lips subconsciously and the small smile gracing his lips would be a permanent fixture on his face. He did not care that he hasn’t painted in a few weeks. He was more than satisfied watching you.

When your painting session would end you’d end up talking for hours under the shade of the gazebo, the smell of flowers wafting all around you.

And you would always leave with lighter hears and the crinkle of a smile indented in the corner of your eyes and him with a rosy carnation cradled to his chest waiting to join the rest of the others.

When one morning you didn’t arrive at your usual time under the gazebo Yoongi noticed. He decided to wait for you for hours, but when the sun bled under the city skyline and the night settled in he decided it was time to go home. With a heavy heart and an empty hand he returned home hoping that the next day you would arrive and tell him about your day.

But one day turned into two, which turned into a week, which then turned into two- and before he knew it a whole month had passed.

In the beginning Yoongi would wait for you patiently, hoping that he would hear your yelps or even your greeting from afar. When that did not happen, he decided he would use that time to continue painting, maybe you’d arrive halfway through and ask him about it. When that didn’t happen either he noticed that instead of a smile on his face he now wore a frown.

After a whole month of not seeing you he became numb to the feeling. He decided that he would not let his mind ponder too much on your absence. But he could not completely block the way his thoughts would return back to you, and he could not help the wistful gaze he would throw the carnations around the gazebo.

As the months of summer wilted into the chill of autumn, the day he decided to stop waiting for you was the day you once again stumbled into him.

Running as fast as your leg permitted you halted a meter away from him, your breath coming out in harsh pants. Yoongi faltered, the grasp he had on his brush slackening, the tool clattering to the ground. He didn’t say anything, he couldn’t. Instead his eyes took in the way your form trembled with exhaustion, stopping at the wrapped up parcel you had under your arm.

“I am so so so sorry” you rasped, the effort causing you to cough. Looking up at him, your gaze met his dark one. He did not look upset, or even disinterested. He looked concerned, then you realised the state you came to see him in.

Yoongi took notice immediately at the lack of skateboard, this time replaced by a crutch. The way you were favouring one leg over the other concerned him. Had you been in an accident?

“I am so sorry,” you repeated, taking him back to the first moment he’s met you. Your clumsy self apologising incessantly and rambling in nervousness. “I fell one day whilst on the way here, and i broke my leg. I did not mean to stop showing up i promise! I had wanted to come see you as soon as i left the doctor’s office but the injury was worse than i could have suspected and- and” your voice wavered, trembling in exhaustion, still not having caught your breath.

Yoongi got up without a word, his silent form approaching yours. When only a few inches were left between the two of you he places both of his hands on your shoulders halting your apology. Looking up at him your gaze softens, his eyes were glossy but his mouth curled up in a smile.

“You’re ok” he repeated over and over as if to reassure himself. Your eyes now mirroring his own watery ones you nod.

In a flash he hugs you tightly, your crutch clattering to the ground and the parcel under the other arm making a dull thud as it hit the dirty floor. You gasped in surprise, your arms not knowing where to settle themselves. After a couple of seconds your brain catches up and relaxes and you melt into his hug. Despite his hands being always cold, his hug is warm and inviting.

You think back to the first time you met, how his cold words told you to leave him be. The drastic change in his attitude and demeanour make you smile softly. You burrowed your head in his shoulder inhaling his scent. He smelt of oils and acetone with an undertone of something floral, and you gasp. Carnations.

As if remembering something important you pulled yourself away from his touch, the cold autumn air making you shiver at the loss of contact.

Yoongi is confused for a moment, his eyes widening in panic. Has he made the wrong move? Has he read your intentions wrong? His heart clenches at the thought of you not returning the feelings that bloomed in his chest. But when you offer him a reassuring smile and bend down, grabbing onto his arm for support his emotions settle.

“This is for you” your hands were shaking. Handing over the mysterious parcel, you waited patiently for him to take it.

He glances at it uncertainly, but when you push it towards him his hand wraps around it. With as much skill as he could he opened it with one hand. Tearing the paper away he gasped. The corner of a canvas is sticking through the whole.

Looking at you in surprise your nervous eyes urge him to carry on. So he does.

The paper now completely teared open, his eyes settle onto a familiar flower painted onto the canvas. A carnation.

You watched him open your gift. You had tried your hardest during the time you were stuck at home with a cast on to practice and after weeks of painful frustrated tears, you’d finally managed to get it right. You had wanted to convey your feelings in a way that he would understand without feeling the pressure to conform to societal norms. To show him how much his effort to accommodate you and include you in his secluded life meant to you.

“Did you know,” you were whispering, “that rosy carnations mean admiration?”

Yoongi finally got it, realisation dawning over his features. He looked up at you, overwhelmed by the emotions flooding his chest. You were still smiling at him a tear now running down your cheek. “I wanted to convey my admiration for you in a way that would be permanent.” The hand on his arm tightened as if you make a point. “So i tried my best to do that.”

Yoongi smiled, not the uncertain smile you were used to, a full smile, the gums of his teeth showing, his features softening.

“A painting is not eternal, but with the artist the painting it over and over again it can be.” His free hand cups your cheek gently. “So stay with me.”

Main Masterlist

[whats-wild-to-you]

100 Days To Fall In Love

[day 100]

[Soo-jin’s POV]

I woke up, feeling Jay stirring in his sleep next to me. I turned to the side, realizing that he was mirroring my movements.

“So you’re up?” I asked eventually when I noticed his erection poking my lower back.

Jay just giggled, planting wet kisses down my neck.

Since he broke the news about his success in the company and with his stepmother to me, he’s been floating on cloud nine. I loved seeing him be so carefree and happy, for once he looked like an actual person and not a robot.

“Do you have anything planned this morning?” He whispered, nuzzling his face in the crook of my neck, making my skin erupt in goosebumps and my nipples harden instantly.

“Why? Do you have something planned?”

“I have, indeed!” He stated before turning me on my back, hovering on top of me.

“Jay...” I was still sore from last night’s sex marathon, but Jay seemed to have recovered just fine.

“You’re right, we have plenty of time for that once we’ve moved out.”

Today was moving day and as much as I was looking forward to living in a regular sized place with no maids, something was nagging at me. Changmin still didn’t know what Jay did, and Jay told me he would invite the staff for dinner and break the news there.

I thought it was a clever idea, in case someone protested or refused to work for Mrs. Choi. Surely no one would make a scene in public.

“When’s your mother moving in?”

“In two days.”

“And she agreed to keep the staff?”

“It was one of my conditions.”

“Are you sure? That you won’t need them?”

“What? You’re thinking of me as some spoiled kid? Yes, I grew up with drivers, cooks and maids but I’ll be fine without them. I’m actually worried about you!” He snickered, kissing the bridge of my nose.

“I will definitely miss them!”

“Oh! You-”

With a loud shriek I jumped out of bed, disappearing in the bathroom.

During breakfast, Jay winked at me once he saw the staff had gathered in the kitchen.

“Does any of you have plans for tonight?” He casually said in between bites.

Heejin and Seolhyun just shook their heads, but Changmin was more vocal.

“Fall dead asleep, why?”

“Let’s all go out tonight!”

“Out? Like a dinner?” Seolhyun asked.

“Yeah, let’s go to a fancy place and have dinner.”

While the girls were already discussing outfits, Changmin eyed me suspiciously.

He knew that I knew something, but I couldn’t reveal Jay’s secret. I just hoped he wouldn’t make a scene.

“Do you have to go to the company today?” I teared my gaze off Changmin and whispered in Jay’s ear.

“No, I’m all yours!”

“Let’s go for a drive!”

We finished breakfast, and I went upstairs to my room changing while Jay made a few business calls.

“Here, I’ll drive.” I said when we stepped outside, grabbing the keys from him.

“Do you have a place in mind?”

“Yes. I need to show you something.”

We drove off and a while later arrived in front of Changmin’s store.

“Huh? This place doesn’t seem like it’s running yet.”

“It’s not. This is Changmin’s. Well, his grandfather owned the building, Changmin was saving money and bought it recently so he could open it again. It’s his dream.”

“How do you know all this?”

“Changmin, he brought me here once a while ago and then again three days ago, to show me how he’s started restoring it.”

“Soojin-ah…”

“I know you struck a deal with your stepmother and that your main concern was that your staff wouldn’t be unemployed but to Changmin it might seem like you didn’t care about what they wanted.”

“What do you want me to do now?”

“Just thinking out loud here, right? What if you replaced Changmin? Assuming your stepmother doesn’t know your staff.”

“I don’t think she does.”

“Great! Then just tell Mr. Kim to hire a new chef so Changmin can open his own business. Please!”

“Fine! I’ll call him later.”

“So, we’re good? Changmin can do his own thing?”

“Yes, but what I don’t understand is when did he intend to tell me about all of this?”

“I believe he wanted to sit down with you and just tell you that he was leaving. Kinda short notice. He figured since you have Woojin, you’d be fine.”

“Well, we better get back, I have to talk to him first before I tell the rest about the new house owner at dinner tonight.”

Jay insisted on driving back to the house, eyeing me occasionally.

“What?” I asked after Jay would look over to every time we stopped at a red light.

“You and Changmin seemed to have gotten close.”

“Is that a question?”

“Just an observation.”

“Are you jealous?”

“No! Should I be?”

“No. Changmin and I are friendly. I don’t know if either one of us would even use the word friends. He’s always been an ally in the house, that’s all. No need to worry!” I concluded, grabbing his hand reassuringly, lacing my fingers through his.

[Jay’s POV]

I found Changmin in his garden, where he grew all kinds of vegetables, more or less successfully.

“Hey!” 

Since I sounded more chipper than usual his antennas went up immediately. “What do you want?”

“Do you have a minute?”

“If this is about this morning, yes!”

His comment threw me off guard, making me hesitate for a few seconds.

“I know something’s going on, that’s why you invited us all for dinner, right? Well, before you say anything, I have something to tell you.”

“Ya, Changmin! Let me speak! Soo-jin told me everything, she even showed me your new restaurant. Congratulations, by the way.”

“Thank you…? Wait, you’re not mad?”

“As you may or may not know, work has been stressful these past few months. In short, I was trying to secure my position in the company and also oust my mother out.”

“There has been talk, yes.”

“Well, three days ago I finally succeeded, and struck a deal with Mrs. Choi. She’ll be moving in in a couple days and me and Soo-jin will be moving out.”

“The staff stays, I assume?”

“That’s why I wanted to have dinner with you all, to prepare you. But-”

“Soo-jin said it might seem a little bit inconsiderate, since she knew I wanted to quit? That’s why you’re giving me a heads-up.”

“Yup.”

“Where are you going to stay?”

“I’ve looked at a couple penthouses in the city. I’ll take Soo-jin there later so she can have a look too.”

“Feels like you’ve grown up since Soo-jin entered your life. I’m sincerely happy for you two!”

“Thank you. Do me a favor, don’t tell the rest what tonight is about!”

“You got it.”

[Soo-jin’s POV]

“Are you ready?”

“For what?”

“I have a surprise for you.”

“Jay, I love that you’re so excited, but surprises aren’t really my thing. What are you so excited about? We don’t even have a place to live?”

“Aah, you spoiled it!”

“What are you talking about?”

“I was going to take you to the city, I’ve seen a couple penthouses and I’d like your opinion.”

“Are we going to split the costs?”

“Absolutely not!”

“Then you decide by yourself!”

“Baby! You’re going to live there too, I want you to be comfortable!”

“I would be comfortable if I could pay half of the price.”

“I don’t mean to sound rude, but, with what money?”

“Did you forget? You have to pay me after today!”

“Wait! No! That seems wrong.”

“What? I can’t believe you! We had a deal! You need to pay up, honey.”

“What about this? I’ll pay you back in kisses, hot sex, homemade breakfast on the weekends and whatever else you can think of.”

“Thanks, but I think I’d prefer the money!”

“Ya! Soojin-ah!”

Giggling, I got in the car, waiting for Jay to get in too.

After looking at penthouses for hours, we finally agreed on one place and Jay signed the sales contract right away.

“Congratulations, Mr. Park! Mrs. Park.” The real estate agent bowed his head and disappeared to finish up the paperwork before either one of us could correct him.

His words still echoed in my ear long after he left. My mind was traveling as I looked out the window, admiring the Seoul skyline.

Was this our home? The place we’d return to after the wedding ceremony? The place we’d return to after I gave birth to your first child?

“What are you thinking about?” Jay appeared behind me, his reflection in the glass beaming at me.

“Just things.” I lied, too scared to share my real thoughts with him.

“I’ll arrange for a moving company to bring our stuff here tonight so we can spend our first night here tomorrow.”

“That fast?”

“Well, Mrs. Choi is moving into the house in two days, and unless you want to share-”

“Ah, you’re right. Tomorrow is fine!”

Dinner was a success, more or less. While the girls were sad that Jay wouldn’t be their boss anymore, in the end they were glad they still had a job. Mr. Kim came through and found a replacement for Changmin that would start work tomorrow.

Everything seemingly fell into place, like pieces of a puzzle.

For just one second, I allowed gloomy thoughts to invade my mind.

This is too easy! Where’s the catch?

Eventually I eased up, serene for the first time in a long time and just enjoyed life.

[Jay’s POV]

After dinner we drove home, I still had one last ace up my sleeve.

I guided Soo-jin to an upstairs living room I hardly ever used, and one I was sure she didn’t even knew existed.

There was a big fireplace burning and a makeshift bed had been set up in front of it. By the couch side table was a bucket with champagne and a plate with chocolate covered strawberries.

“What is all this?” Soo-jin asked, a big bright smile adorning her beautiful face.

“A surprise. A nice way to end this evening. Our three-month anniversary celebration. Your pick!”

“A fireplace. Champagne and chocolate covered strawberries? Let me guess, no clothes?”

“Woojin will drive us to our new home at 7 in the morning, I plan to make love to you until then.”

“Ambitious!” She exclaimed, winking.

I could tell she was nervous though. So I took my time, removing each clothing item slowly, admiring her perfect body every time I uncovered more of it.

When she stood naked in front of me, I took a step back to undress myself, only to feel Soo-jin’s hands stop me.

“Let me do that!”

Her voice was hoarse, laced with passion and anticipation. Yet she took her time undressing me too, running her fingers up and down my chest, igniting a fire within me.

Carefully I laid her down, hovering only a couple inches above her naked body. I kissed my way from her neck all the way down to her belly button, stealing glances now and then.

Her eyelids were fluttering, her mouth was slightly open, and she was moaning delightedly. It made me want to claim her right then and there, but I had to pace myself if I wanted to do this all night long.

She then grabbed a fistful of my hair, pushing my head further down her exposed folds, mumbling incoherent words.

I looked up at her for a second, then proceeded to slowly lick my way through to her sensitive clit, my tongue flicking her bud until she was crying out in pleasure.

“Don’t stop!” She protested when I removed my tongue and slid up her body, connecting our lips for a long and passionate kiss.

[Soo-jin’s POV]

I understood the assignment when Jay laid down on his back next to me, his impressive penis curved upwards, resting on his lower belly.

I straddled his legs and picked it up, massaging it lightly, brushing my thumb over its exposed pink tip.

Determined I took it in my mouth, his impressive length filling my throat. My lips cupped his penis, while my head was bobbing up and down.

I smacked my lips when I released him from my mouth, making sure to lick his precum, my tongue swirling around its hardened tip.

“You taste so good.” I mumbled before I took him in my mouth again, moaning as he filled my throat.

The next time I came up for air he turned me around, so I was facing away from him and pulled my legs closer to his face until my wet folds lingered above his face. I dipped my head down again, devouring his balls while Jay parted me with his fingers, inserting his tongue inside me.

We both climaxed shortly after with Jay shouting profanities as his hot cum slid down my throat.

“You drive me crazy.” He whispered into my ear while massaging my breasts. We kissed and made out until we were both ready to go again. It went like this all night, until Jay collapsed completely exhausted on top of me. Outside it was beginning to dawn as I kissed him and wrapped myself in his strong arms.

Not an hour later we were rudely awakened by Mr. Kim banging on each door. Finally he found us, the door springing open, a distressed Mr. Kim panting as he handed Jay an iPad.

“You want to see this!”

I covered myself with a sheet and stood up, looking with Jay at the screen.

‘... Our guest next week will introduce their new book to us. It is said to be a bombshell, describing in great detail the life of media mogul Jay Park. A tell-all book exposing a powerful man’s biggest and darkest secrets! So don’t miss it and tune in next Saturday at 8pm. ...’

[pinkhairedlily]

Chapter 10 - Student Council President Sakura

SCPS AO3 | PREVIOUS CHAPTER

To Sakura, world still revolved normally; nothing changed between them, nothing mattered enough for her to behave differently. To Sasuke, the world shifted in its axis, having revealed a glimpse of his true feelings to her however falsely convenient she deemed them to be; everything changed between them, everything mattered enough for him to behave differently.

Like flinching at her slight grazes on his skin or his ears picking up her voice in the middle of the crowd noises or his eyes following the trail of her rose hair tied up in a ponytail, bewitched by the sway of the strands as she tousled to get to the front of the fray, her fingers burning a hole through his sleeve.

“HOMERUN!” The announcer screamed through the microphone, the feedback running through ripples in the throng of people. “Uzumaki Naruto nails a clutch win in the last inning for his team in their first ever nationals!”

Screams erupted around them, and as others jumped and cursed and hugged each other, she stood there frozen in time, her hands on her mouth. “He won. He won, Sasuke.” Her voice quivered, and he knew then that she was crying.

“Yeah, the blonde idiot won.” He allowed himself to smile, picking the blonde among the ruckus that enfolded below.

An hour and lesser filled stadium after, the two went down to congratulate their friend with open arms despite the sweat and the grit. Sasuke went with the flow, jumping up and down and circling about in the middle of the pitcher’s mound. They broke away from each other’s hold after several minutes, breathless in the undertaking, and flushed with all the gleeful screaming.

Two firm pats on Naruto’s back and a ruffle on his porcupine hair. “You did well, idiot.”

“Ah I earned a compliment from grumpy. This truly is the best day of my life!” His teammates broke in laughter in the background.

“I’m so proud of you. I’m so glad we took the bullet train to watch your game,” Sakura said through tears. Perhaps it was the height of the celebration or the ride of her emotions; she reached for Naruto’s face and placed a kiss on his cheek.

Sasuke turned away just in time, thankful for the screams, hoots, and whistles that possessed the student body. In his aversion, he also saw another face who kept looking anywhere but at the two. Hyuga Hinata, his ironic comrade in heartbreak.

Haru was in the group of spectators earlier, a pseudo-coach and mood-raiser for the team, his undercut prominent against his cap. Sasuke guessed him and Hinata were civil enough to be enclosed in a common space. He walked towards her, hands in his pockets.

“I’m gonna confess to him in the cultural festival,” she told him before he could reach her side.

He leaned against the bleachers, shutting out the continuing noises from the student body. In the midst of it, he can hear Sakura scolding all of them for misunderstanding. “And you’re gonna get rejected.”

“At least I told him what I felt,” she replied. “Did you already?”

He shrugged, unsure himself whether he got the point across or not.

“You better make it clear. You berated me for giving mixed signals after all.”

“You don’t hold your punches, Ms. Hyuga.” Sasuke sighed. “I think she rejected me already.”

Hinata let out a small laugh, the first in his vicinity. “Well, I’m just giving back your advice. If you think it so, you should ask again.”

“A second heartbreak won’t do me good.”

“The future has a lot in store.” She finally landed her gaze on Naruto and Sakura who separated now and were engaged by Haru in some funny exchange. “Good luck to us, Uchiha. I’ll take my leave.”

Sasuke detached himself from the bleachers. “Without saying congratulations?”

But Hinata continued on her exit without giving him a reply. To his surprise, it was not only him who caught her leaving; a pair of blue eyes also followed after her, mouth agape, hesitant to call her name not when he was in the presence of her ex-boyfriend and ex-captain. Ah, we’re all stuck in this complex hell, aren’t we?

His phone vibrated against his pocket. On normal days, he would ignore the call, but today wasn’t normal and he had to act nice for the favor he asked.

“Did your best friend win?” Itachi’s voice greeted him.

Sasuke didn’t correct him on the terminology. He just grunted a small yes, and somehow, he can hear his brother smiling on the other end of the call.

“Glad my donation helped fund their team’s expenses. I take it you also spent some for the bullet train?”

Again, another small yes.

“That’s nice.” It was the first time he heard Itachi chuckle again after the accident. “I’m glad you have friends.”

They’re not my friends fell silent on Sasuke’s lips. All he wanted was to consistently rank first, have uninteresting interactions…but all of those foiled because of the two. “Yeah, something like that.”

He heard the beeping pager in the background. “Gotta run, little brother. See you.”

Little brother. Sasuke swallowed back an unfamiliar sound.

It was a sob.

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

Sakura tried to look at anything but him – the titles of books on his shelves behind, the heads of other faculty members bobbing, the ticking of the second hand on the wall clock. Kakashi clucked upon seeing her career sheet.

“Haruno, you’ll be graduating salutatorian, just points away from Uchiha Sasuke and yet you haven’t listed a university or a job listing. It’s referral season, and you’ve done a lot of good in this school.” Kakashi held his eyes steady on her, a firm line on his lips. “Don’t you want help?”

She mustered a smile, if that was what they call it nowadays, and handed him a filled out form. Whether he could see that it was written with wavering hands, she’d never know. “I settled on fashion design. I’ve always wanted to be a seamstress myself.”

That was a lie, and she knew Kakashi knew judging by how the firm line stayed. He briefly nodded and let her go.

Sensing the bubbling anxiety, she traversed the noisy hallways and almost sprinted to what has also become her safe space – the hidden spot of the boys behind the library. It wasn’t lunch time yet so Sasuke and Naruto wouldn’t be here. She slumped against the wall, sobs racking throughout her body.

Aimless was what she would describe her direction, untethered her depth, and a black hole her emotions.

“I wish you would let me help you.” Kakashi’s voice made her jump. She scanned her surroundings but cannot find a telling strand of silver in the hedges. He was probably standing on the entrance, just before the canopy of vines. “I didn’t follow you. I just knew the three of you went here for lunch and after-school chats. I’m a faculty, Sakura.”

“Please go away.” She never heard her voice sounded so small…and vulnerable.

“Sometimes, talking it out would make the burden feel lighter.”

She didn’t respond, and he didn’t wait for it. His audible footsteps were an indication he was moving away so she took the bait. If this was one way to be near him, why couldn’t it be in the guise of her pain?

She emerged in the hedges, eyes bloodshot red and strained, only to find him leaning against the wall, waiting with a handkerchief for her.

In an ironic turn of events, he brought her to the program she initiated. When he turned to leave to give her the privacy she needed, she asked him to stay. And that simple silent gesture gave her the courage to face her reality.

That her parents were divorcing, and in a futile attempt to cope, she made herself scarce, almost invisible.

Perhaps she was too much work for a middle-class couple with a lot of bills and unemployed siblings to feed. Maybe if they didn’t have a child that hindered their defining career opportunities to relocate or get promoted to an overseas position. Her outstanding community work and numerous distinction medals just weren’t strong enough to warrant a reconsideration of their decision.

And maybe it was a wrong move to get a part time job and dissociate from the pink-haired, studious Sakura and be the adult black-haired, funky cashier Sakura because it only gave them the idea she can live just fine on her own without any of them worrying about her instead of seeing the whole thing as a call for help.

“If you’re ready, you should share your problem to the two,” her sensei said when they finished with her therapy consultation.

“They have heavier baggage,” she simply replied.

“They’re not comparable. Naruto has an empty baggage, a kid with no past, yet he drags it around. Sasuke has sand for load, it’s leaking at the seams but he refills it. And for you, it could be air or water. It’s because you’re compressing them all inside that they become heavier.” He laid a hand on her head, an action of a sensei to a student. “Thanks for sharing some of those with me, Sakura.”

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

Cultural festival was an amalgamation of confessions, last clinchers, and stolen moments. Whoever snatched a dance with someone they liked would be blessed with good relationship – that was how the saying went among the ranks of students.

It was the reason why Sasuke and Naruto hid throughout the day in their spot, content to eat instant ramen, batches of onigiri, and packs of orange and tomato juices. Throngs of freshmen and second years were on the hunt for their feet as dance partner.

“If only they knew I have two left feet,” Naruto grumbled. “I can’t even enjoy the day with Sakura. It’s pathetic to think I’m stuck with you.”

“I second,” Sasuke said. ��Do you think she’ll confess to Kakashi later?”

“She hasn’t made a move yet?”

Sasuke shook his head.

“Wait what do you mean you second?”

Minutes of silence ensued. Sasuke put a whole onigiri in his mouth, too flustered to say it right at his face. “I like Sakura.” The words were jumbled with his chewing, and he was sure Naruto didn’t catch it.

But the idiot grinned and laughed maniacally. “The great pretender finally admits! When did you realize it? Did you have the fireworks in your head too?” He even mimicked a rainbow with his hands.

“That’s a rainbow, you idiot.” Sasuke scratched the back of his head. “When she was busy looking at Kakashi playing the piano.”

“Ah, will we ever have the chance?” Naruto snickered. “Let’s confess tonight, grumpy.”

“Already thought of that and already prepared for it.” Despite the seemingly downfall trajectory of their common affections, Sasuke still managed a smirk.

Not to be one-upped, Naruto pulled out his phone and flashed a small bouquet of dahlias. “Ready to be picked up tonight.”

A Greek tragedy, that was them; two best friends falling in love with and being rejected by the same girl.

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

Majority of the school population have gathered around the giant bonfire on the campus grounds, but Sakura knew Kakashi would be stuck in his cubicle in the faculty lounge, nose-deep in a novel, headphones in to drown out the noise, and feet propped up on his desk.

Tonight was the night she would bare her other truth naked to him.

But before she could even step foot in his space, she already heard the voice of his favorite book drifting across the nooks and partitions.

“You should be with your students.” Giggling and a sound she would only assume was a string of kisses.

“I don’t have much time with you. Let me be greedy just this time.” Hearing her sensei say that painted him in another light. So there was this very attached Kakashi, far from the laidback and chill professor she knew.

Sakura should turn her heels and join the rest of the student body. She should act like a good student model, ignore her teacher’s affairs, and pretend she was never here. Except she tripped while running, and that summoned the two of them to her aid.

“Sakura? Did you need something?”

She side-eyed Rin Nohara and shook her head, her one only good chance blown to bits by her own recklessness and stupidity. She muttered an apology and starts to walk away with limping feet when Rin stopped her.

“I’ll get a drink in the vending machine. I’ll be back in five minutes Kashi.”

Thank God for women intuition, Sakura thought.

But inevitably she was left alone in the corridor with her heartbeat far stronger than the noise of the band outside around the campfire and the unknowing subject of her admiration. She held tightly to his rubber tie around her wrist, the mark etched deeper by each day she leaves it there mangled with her pulse.

He crossed his arms and leaned back against the wall, a smile etched on his face, the soft moonlight falling on his features only to highlight his beauty mark. It was unfair seeing him like this only to have him break her heart.

She knew she didn’t stand a chance, but even then, she had to hear it clear and loud.

“I like you.”

Were three words ever enough to encapsulate the three years of affection she held for him? One word for each year she felt content with glimpses of him, may they only be passing shadows in the halls, an echoing voice in the adjacent room, the silent arbiter in council meetings or a silver strand she could easily pick out in a sea of black of white.

Kakashi looked at her, his smile still etched, his face still immaculate. “That wasn’t a question.”

“And that wasn’t a reply.” It was nature to look away when one was too scared to face truth, but for the many times he helped her, even without him fully realizing the extent, she owed it to him to be brave.

“But you already know the words.” A head pat, the same gesture that gave her comfort in the past was the same gesture that broke her heart just now. How easy it was for the breaker to give and take minute and mindless affections, but what right did she has to think they were special to begin with?

It was the end of an illusory conception.

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

A bouquet of dahlias and a bouquet of daffodils were hidden behind Naruto and Sasuke. It was dark, already past seven, the bonfire in its final vestiges, its sputtering flames waiting for last-minute lovers to dance in their splendid light.

Within the shadows came the girl of their dreams, hair untangled and morose emerald irises dipped in pools. Sasuke first noticed the bare wrist, the rubber tie gone, and he knew then that she confessed, and she was heartbroken.

He didn’t need to say anything to the blonde beside him. Her stance was enough to convey her present state of being. What she needed right now were her friends, not aspiring lovers stupid enough to break the friendship label.

And so they hid the bouquets on their backs, safe in the clutches of the dark, and when she reached out to them, their free hands already grasped her trembling fingers in waiting.

There they were, three broken-hearted people, wallowing in their own respective pain, sitting on the dewy grass that would leave stains on their clothes the next morning. When the school band started the last song, Sasuke stood up, abandoning his bouquet on the side, and pulled the other two up.

“Would be a shame to end our last cultural festival like this.”

Ten steps later, they were in the middle of the crowd of couples, three awkward friends holding each other’s hands and stepping on each other’s foot.

“For the love of God, you really can’t dance Naruto. Can’t you do a simple turn to the right?” Sasuke complained.

“Why are you putting all the blame on me? You’re the one who can’t differentiate the right from left!” Naruto spat back.

She laughed, and it somehow stopped their bickering for a moment. Bent at her stomach and eyes clinched shut in crinkles, that was their Sakura.

AO3 LINK | NEXT CHAPTER | CHAPTER 11

[puckngrind]

Skating Lessons: series finale - J. Anderson

Summary: Josh enters the bubble

Warning: language, smut, quarantine, NHL bubble

Word count: 1,697

Series Masterlist

Your mini honeymoon was exactly what you needed as life became somewhat busy as soon as you returned. Leaning against your bedroom's door frame you watch your whole heart packing for the bubble.

"What do you think about this suit Mace?" Josh holds up his blue and gray checked suit jacket.

"It's your lucky one. It would be good." Mason grabs one of Josh's London shirts. "Momma will wear this while you are gone." Your eyes water immediately knowing your son is completely correct.

"You are right baby boy." You chime in whipping your eye. Josh walks towards you and wraps his arms around you.

"You okay?" He whispers in your hair and you nod and then sorta shake your head. "Yeah, what I thought." He pulls you closer and you feel his heart pounding.

"Momma, it will be okay. We can watch the games and Facetime and by the time Josh gets back he will officially be my dad." Josh looks at you with so many words but says nothing. The emotions spill out of your eyes. Josh brushes it away with this thumb.

"Correct, Bud." Josh kisses your cheek. "You will be Mason Anderson as soon as the courts say so in a few weeks." Josh squeezes your hip tight keeping you attached to him.

"And I can call you Dad, right?" Mason's face lights up and you nod but your words get caught.

"If you want to. You can call me Dad now too." Josh clears the emotion out of his throat too and breaks free of his grip on you and picks Mason up swinging him around. Mason's laugh is contagious.

"Okay you two. We have a busy two days before the bubble and Mason needs to get to bed." You kiss Mason's forehead.

"Dad, you going to read me a story?" Mason looks up at Josh and skips out of the room to his.

"Did you just...?" Josh points.

"You better go. Our boy needs a story read then you can come tuck me in." You wink and the smirk you love comes across Josh's face before he almost runs to Mason's room. About 30 minutes later Josh returns to your room and locks the door behind him.

"Why Mrs. Anderson, you don't even know how turned on I am?" Josh crawls up the bed where you are leaned against the headboard.

"Turned on eh?" You throw your most Canadian accent at your husband which makes him grunt.

"Well, knowing I'm not getting this for some time may have something to do with it or how hot you are or..." Your lips press to his stopping his train of thought.

"I love how normal Mace calling you Dad felt, you know?" You run your hand down Josh's jaw. "It's exactly what I've always wanted." his lips move from your ear down your jaw.

"And to think you fought me for how long on how right we were?" Josh's fingers move his London shirt off your body in such a quick move it takes your breath away. "Babe, whatever happens, wherever we go... we do it as a family." Josh presses his forehead to yours then moves strategically down your body. "Where was I?" He nibbles at your panties and moves them out of his way.

"Josh." You moan out as his lips find your core. Your brain goes fuzzy the way Josh makes you feel instantly. So focused on you pleasure with the countdown to him leaving that it has intensified your orgasms which washes over you quickly. Moving is way back up to kiss your lips softly.

"Look at me (y/n)." Josh breaks the almost silence as you come down from your high and you open your eyes to look at him. He smiles softly whispers he loves you and presses himself fully into you. You wrap your legs around his hips and he moves quickly. Tightening your grip on his back and your body coming up to meet his. Josh presses deep and you tighten around him which makes him swear into your shoulder as he releases deep inside. A few hip thrusts more and you find a second high and feel the weight of Josh on your hips.

"Wow." You breathe out trying to catch your breath. Josh laughs and moves you both so he can spoon you.

"How the fuck am I going to survive this bubble shit without you?" He kisses the shell of your ear and you turn to face him. Moving his hair out of his face and staring into those eyes of his that say so much.

"It will just make the sex better when you get back." You press your lips to his.

"Maybe Mason should go to your parents for the weekend when I do get back then." He laughs.

"Funny J." You wiggle and move to shower. "I can make that happen." You tiptoe to the shower and Josh mumbles something about being the death of him while quickly following behind.

Before you knew it, Josh entered the bubble. You looked like hell when he finally could Facetime you from his hotel room.

"Babe, are you feeling that bad? I can try to leave. They aren't going to let me play the play in round." Josh looked concerned and you tried to not sniffle.

"Josh, I'm fine. Just a summer cold. Have an appointment for next week if it doesn't go away." You assure your husband.

"Send Mason to your parents if you need to rest." Josh stands to pace.

"Josh, I'm fine. Let's talk about what you wanted to talk about." You sip your tea and wish he was just next to you to snuggle into.

"Well, there are a few teams interested in me." Josh starts and you cannot focus with the pounding in your ears. Him saying your name returns your focus. "If I don't stay in Columbus we will keep the house or buy a new one to be our summer place. Okay?" He runs his free hand through his hair for maybe the tenth time.

"Of course Josh. You are mine. Mason will be yours next week. We..."

"Wait, next week?" Josh's voice picks up and you laugh.

"Yup. Got the information today about the adoption finalization. So by the time you are back home he will officially be your son." You cannot help the smile that hurts your cheeks.

"Best news ever. Now how long I'm gone is really up to the boys. Hoping to go far so I can play but I want to be home with you so fucking bad." Josh lands on the bed and you want to agree but you know it's not what you should say.

"We have all summer. Remember, I'm unemployed, Mason doesn't have school plus aren't you sick of us since the pause?" You sit your tea down and look at your husband and he knows what you are doing.

"Yeah, no, yeah. Babe, you know what I mean. Plus, I think the word is stay at home mom not unemployed." You roll your eyes at him. "Oh, my parents are going to try to come to the fence tomorrow during my free time." You laugh thinking of Josh in a cage and Gary assessing the structure.

"That's amazing. I know they miss you but I wish they could give you a hug. Maybe if you make if farther they will let them in since we canno..." A knock on Josh's door makes you stop.

"Fuck. I have an eval and need to go get my nose abuse again. Love you so damn much." You kiss at the phone and say your goodbyes.

The team getting eliminated in the first round was the exact opposite of what you wanted for Josh professionally but knowing he would be in your arms in the matter of a day was exactly what you needed. h The girls planned on meeting the team with signs at the airport. Mason was in his new jersey the team sent him after is adoption became official. Natalie linked arms with you as you moved from your seat towards the door. You nod. Mason held the sign and you waited as Josh's teammates move down the steps and find their families spread out. Then you see him. Hair still wet, longer than you remember it when he left and his beard longer but trimmed. He moved his sunglasses to his head and almost runs down to you. Picking you up and spinning you around kissing you like he's never done in front of anyone ever.

"Welcome home J." You finally break free.

"Welcome home Dad!" Mason jumps up and down sign still in hand.

"Mace, you took care of Momma so well. And look at this!" Josh leans down to hug Mason.

"Look!" Mason turns around to show Daddy instead of Anderson across his back.

"That's awesome Bud!" Josh looks up at you and you mouth the team. "I love it."

"Mason, did you show Josh... Dad... uh... Did you show him your sign?" You bite the inside of your cheek and flick your finger towards Mason's sign that has almost been forgotten.

"Let me see this." Josh helps Mason move it into his view to read.

"I drew this!" Mason points to the jersey in the corner.

"Welcome Home Daddy! Anderson party of... four. Fu... Does that say party of four?" Josh lays the sign calmly down and you nod your head pulling your lip into your teeth. "Does that mean?" Josh places his hand between your hips as he stands.

"Yes, Josh. We are having a baby." You whisper and Josh has you wrapped up into his arms kissing your lips again. You hear the cheers from your hockey family.

"I... I... I love you so damn much!" Josh whispers in your ear and you feel the energy of your announcement.

"I love you too J. Best decision I've ever made." You look down at Mason, up at Josh, then hold the slight baby bump you have hiding in your jeans. "Best skating lesson ever." You giggle taking in your family and what you've built.

34.

Note from writer: Thank you for those who have been patient waiting for this series to finish. It's been my baby and I wanted to make sure I wasn't writing based on emotions from Josh's trade but what I really wanted for this trio.

[horrorslashergirl]

Samuel Grayson x reader where the reader is a soft-spoken, gentle and loving single mom with either a baby or a toddler who moves into Samuel's old apartment while running from an abusive ex? thank you so much!

Samuel Grayson x Reader- New Owner

Warnings: 18+ for abusive themes, gore and death

Words: 2.4k

If only things would have been different, but life doesn't let you know what will happen, because if you knew you would have never gotten into this relationship in the first place. To say the divorce went fine was a big lie, especially since you took full custody of your child.

Your now ex-husband couldn't afford to take care of your son; he was unemployed, plus he was charged with middle violence, not to mention the scandal he caused at the court, so the judge took the best decision.

Moving away from the small town and far away into San Fransisco was a big change not only for you but for your son too, but the good part was that despite being a six-year-old, he could understand the necessity of moving away.

'As long as I am with you, mom, I'm good.' Will told you when you packed the things you need to move.

Now you were at the lobby of the building you were gonna live in, waiting for the administrator to come and hand you the keys to the apartment. It was the cheapest you could find and also not one of these cramped shoe-box-like apartments in dangerous neighbors.

It was actually a pretty big one; a living room with a big kitchen, two bedrooms, two bathrooms, and a dressing-room. At first, you were skeptical of the price, not to mention the building was in central San Fransisco, so it was like winning the Jackpot.

The team of guys started to move the boxes to the apartment, taking the elevator and you saw a man dressed in a grey suit with a red tie, his brown hair slicked back. He noticed you and your son and smiled, walking towards you two.

"Mrs. [Exhusband surname]?" he asked and you frowned at the surname of your ex-husband, a bitter feeling in your throat.

"Not anymore. Just call me [Name]." you replied and the man gave you a sympathetic smile.

"I understand and I am deeply sorry. I am the manager of this building, Mr. Wilson, but feel free to call me Henry." he introduced himself, extending his hand for you to shake.

You gave him an assuring smile and explained that there is nothing to think about the past anymore, that you were looking forward to a neat future and to raise your son peacefully.

"I am sure you will love this apartment. It hasn't really been used that much." Henry spoke as you rid the elevator.

"How so?" you asked, getting curious.

"Oh, you know, most people now are looking for houses on the outskirts of the city. More quiet and away from the chaotic big city lifestyle." He told you, the ding of the elevator announcing your arrival on the floor.

Walking with Will behind Henry down the hallway, you noticed how everything was so quiet, save for an old lady that was wetting her plants by the door. She looked up at you and a terrified look crossed her face as you stopped in front of the door to your apartment.

"What's with the neighbor?" you asked in a quiet whisper, making Henry look at the old woman and you noticed a dark stare into his eyes like he was silently telling her to mind her own business.

"Oh! Dorota is 80 years old and she has been alone for 10 years since her husband died of old age. Don't mind her, she has a habit of starring." Henry explained and ushered you and your son inside, your eyes widening at the scenario.

It was indeed very spacious and modern, not overly filled with furniture, but enough to make it look cozy. The moving crew set the last box on the floor close to the couch, then nodded at you and Henry that they were done.

"So? What do you think? I know pictures aren't that relevant and things aren't the same in reality." Henry began to apologize, but you waved it off.

"No, no! It looks better than I thought and it's very large and I am sure Will is delighted to finally have his own bedroom." you explained and Will's eyes sparkled with joy at the information of having his intimacy.

Henry rubbed his hands together, a big smile on his face, seeing that you and your son were approving of the apartment.

"Sweet! So, it's all settled then?" he asked with a hopeful look into his eyes, and you nodded with a chuckle, seeing Will run through the apartment, gazing at every little detail with curiosity, getting aquatinted with your and his new home.

"That's delightful to hear! I will come back tomorrow so you can sign the contracts and all that paperwork." he explained, walking towards the exit door of the apartment, followed by you close behind.

He turned back towards you, handing you the keys to the apartment with a smile.

"This is now yours... with everything that is inside. Enjoy." he simply said then walked down the hallway of the floor to the elevator, getting inside, the metal doors closing.

After the man disappeared, you moved back inside the apartment, seeing Will gazing out the big full-length wall windows at the city below with excitement.

"Look, Momma! The view is so pretty!" he said with enthusiasm, making you smile and nod, looking at the city with him, happy that you finally started anew after a long time of toxicity, the thoughts of your ex-husband making you shiver and wrap your arms around yourself in an attempt at creating a little protection.

The feeling of someone tugging at the edge of your shirt pulled you out of your thoughts, looking down at Will with a questionable look.

"I'm hungry." he simply stated, and now that he said it, you were pretty hungry yourself. All you have eaten today were some croissants and a cup of coffee.

Nodding, you grasped his hand gently into yours, walking with him to the kitchen, setting him up on the kitchen counter, grateful that you delivered the groceries yesterday here.

"What would you like? Maybe some bacon, sausages, and scrambled eggs?" you asked your son who happily nodded, watching as you started to cook, not before turning the radio on for some music to play into the background.

Everything seemed so perfect, a new home, a new job, you and your son, away from your abusive ex. Everything seemed to fall right into their respective places.

After the food was ready, you served it on two full plates, eating with your son at the table, just listened to music, and having a peaceful earlier dinner. After washing the dishes, you told Will that you will be fondling the clothes and setting them into the closets. Your son nodded, telling you that he will be playing in his room.

While you were arranging your clothes, Will was playing with a remote car in the apartment, running after the toy as he controlled it with the remote in his small hands.

His brows furrowed as the toy car moved out of the apartment on its own; the front door wide open, which was suspicious seeing how you locked it, but the child was more concerned about his precious plaything.

Will was running after the car down the hallways of the last floor, not really paying attention to where he was going until he turned a corner and his gaze fell on a dog at the other end of the hallway. It was a Doberman, gazing back at him, tilting its head to the side, the car stopping at its black paws.

The little boy was ready to take a step forward, when a hand touched his shoulder, making him jump in surprise, turning himself around, and seeing you with a concerned look on your face.

"Sweety... If you want to play outside the apartment, at last, tell me. Don't run off like that." you said, crouching down in front of him, inspecting your son for injuries or bruises, a habit that was born because of your ex-husband.

"Sorry, Mom... I was playing with the car and the dog-" he didn't finish his sentence, because when he pointed to where the canine was, there was no dog at the other end of the hallway.

You sighed and rubbed your forehead.

"If you want a dog, you should have asked...Now that he is no more we can... I mean...." you stumbled over your words, remembering how Will asked one day his father for a dog and your ex just simply slapped his cheek, telling him a straight-up no without so much of an explanation.

Will hugged your legs tightly, gazing up into your eyes with a sad look, knowing what you were thinking.

"Don't be sad.... You know I don't like it when you cry." he whispered and you kissed his forehead, giving him an assuring smile.

"It's alright... Let's just go back. We can watch a movie tonight... Anything you want." you said, turning with him down the hallway and seeing the old lady that you encountered when Henry was presenting you the building.

She gazed at you two with suspicion and a morbid look, her wrinkly, skinny hands trembling. Instinctively, you pulled Will closer to you, the motherly protectiveness coming out.

"It's you... You are staying there.... His place.... He comes.... He is after you." she said in a scratchy raspy voice, making Will hide behind your legs.

Gulping down, you quickly scooped your son into your arms, walking away fast from the old lady, who began to laugh, a sound that made a shiver run down your spine, feeling sick from her words. Running, you quickly entered your apartment with your son into your arms, slamming the door behind you and locking it.

"Momma... What did she mean?" Will asked, his smaller hands clenching your shirt into tiny fists.

"N-Nothing... Don't worry... I won't let anything bad happen to you. I promise." you whispered into his hair, kissing the top of his head, hugging him tightly to your chest, not aware of a pair of golden eyes watching from the dark corners of the apartment.

So far things have been going fine for the following weeks; your working schedule was perfectly put with Will's school program, you left him at school before going to work and picking him up after the working programs, plus it was a bonus you could work extra hours at home.

Will kept telling you about the dog that he kept seeing along the hallways of the building, and you told him that it probably belonged to one of the neighbors.

Now it was weekend which meant you were free; you were currently making some dinner while Will was watching cartoons in the living room, then the doorbell rang, and before you could go and check it yourself, Will beat you to it, only for your eyes to widen when you saw your ex-husband into the doorway, Will obviously taken aback, running to hide behind your legs, the cold stare of the man making your hands tremble at your sides.

"Took me some time to find you. You thought you could get away from me with my son?" he asked, voice gruff and making shivers of disgust run down your spine, although you tried to put on a brave facade, being the overprotective mother.

"We have a restraining order." you told him firmly, wanting for this fiasco to be over, but your ex merely laughed, like you just told him a joke.

"Ya think a piece of paper is gonna keep me away?" he asked, starting to walk towards you.

You quickly told Will to run into his bedroom and lock the door, which the boy was anxious to do, mostly to leave you here with this monster that was supposed to be his father, only the little boy no longer viewed him as such.

The man scoffed, rolling his eyes and stopping in front of you, glaring daggers into your forehead.

"You know... You are starting to piss me off." he grumbled, spitting on your shoes, something he did multiple times, making you swallow the bitter feeling.

"Y-You had your chance... We don't want you... Y-You hurt us." you shuttered out, his dark aura always made you want to run, to hide.

"Please... it was only a slap." he replied.

To be correct there were too many slaps, and not only that, kicks and punches too, not to mention derogatory names that made you feel small and helpless.

Before you could tell him to leave, his hand shot up to grasp your jaw tightly, fingernails digging into the skin of your cheeks, making your eyes water.

"I think I should just get rid of you and get my son back." he whispered, pulling out a switch-blade from his pocket, but before he could use it, a big and black clawed hand shot out from nowhere, talons digging into the shoulder of your ex, making him let you go.

Your eyes widened as did your ex gaze when they landed on a man. No, he was definitely not a man. His height was insane, over 7'0, skin a sickly grey color, spikey jet black hair covering his head, clad in black clothing and his eyes of shining gold and the sclera all black.

Definitely not human.

Your ex stabbed the creature or whatever he was into his shoulder, but the entity didn't even flinch, only gazed where the blade was impaled.

"Who the fuck are you?!" your ex screamed, trying to pry his clawed hands from him.

The creature snarled into his face, black snakes shooting from the sharp-toothed mouth, hissing aggressively, making your ex scream. The scream didn't last long, for the creature ripped his arm straight off like it was nothing, throwing the limb over his shoulder, demonic dogs coming out of his back and chewing on the arm.

Your ex fell to the ground, sounds of agony leaving him, trying to crawl backwards, but the demonic being wasn't done with him, his clawed hands starting to rip him piece by piece, blood following like there was no end, the hellish dogs starting to eat each piece the creature threw at them until your ex simply disappeared.

You couldn't believe what you just witnessed, a choked cry leaving you. In an instant the sound left you pulled on the creature's attention, golden eyes meeting yours.

Before there could be any exchange of words, the sound of your son's voice, pulled your attention.

"Momma... What's happening?" he asked from his bedroom.

Gazing back to the creature, he was gone and any evidence of what happened simply vanished; no blood, no guts, not even a hint that there was any carnage.

Falling to your knees, you finally understood the old lady.

'He is coming.'

[wickedgamesoyaoya]

The thrilling saga of Hanamaki, the hero of stench continued well past forty-five minutes. And if the conversation would stray away from the subject, the comments issued by those seated nearby would immediately return the group’s attention to the humorous topic. At this point, the poor male was unsure whether his ego would ever heal from the damage it sustained today. But what swelled the sense of embarrassment colouring his cheeks was the fact it was all because of a bodily reaction he could not control. Truthfully – the absence of understanding was quite rude.

Dejected, the pink haired male sunk into the leather seat, until his chin was nestled against the lower part of his neck.

“Stop that. You’re going to hurt your neck.” Iwaizumi tugged at his shirt collar to dispel the second-hand discomfort he was experiencing as Hanamaki squinted at him, refusing to budge from the stance.  

“Who needs a neck anymore. I don’t. What’s the point of going on like this? I may as well die.” The unemployed male sniffled, allowing his arms to go limp on either side of him. He was searching for sympathy and yet, all you could submit to him was your laughter. If only you could grab a photo – he could easily be turned into a meme.

“Stop being so dramatic. None of these people know you, and I doubt they will remember you after today.” Steadying his elbow against the glass table, the trainer curled his fingers into a fist then supported his cheek against it. “Sorry to break it you, but you’re not that important.”

“But I will remember.” He countered, his eyes now shifting into your direction, where you were seconds from pinching Iwaizumi’s exposed cheek. Pausing mid-motion with your finger’s inches away from his face, a sheepish smile decorated your features.

“What? Maybe this is karma for calling Tooru smelly yesterday.” While the response was clearly aimed at the sulking male, your y/e/c irises remained fixated on the one you deemed your favourite. Iwaizumi raised an eyebrow in partial interest as his attention went to your hovering hand.

“That’s funny, I don’t remember your name being karma.” A low growl rumbled inside of Hanamaki’s throat, earning him a reassuring pat from Matsukawa. He would have interjected more often if he was not preoccupied by the delicious dessert plated in front of him. Dessert took priority over drama when it was the embodiment of heaven. “Look, she’s not even paying attention me anymore!”

“Now, now children. We’re all friends here.” The funeral home attendant offered without much enthusiasm, before sticking a fork coated in cream into his mouth. “Y/n, say sorry so he won’t break his neck and die.” Upon hearing his suggestion, you jutted your bottom lip into a pout in protest.

“I don’t want an apology. How am I supposed to go celebrate with your boy-toy’s business partners smelling like mutated pig?” Despite knowing no one would notice the movement, Makki crossed his arms under the table, mimicking the stance of a stubborn child.

“I’ll buy you a new outfit, cry baby. We still have some time.” After being shot down by Iwaizumi three times, defeat was grudgingly accepted. Your reflexes were no where as cultivated as his were. “Let’s settle the bill and go shopping, boys! Your sugar mama is buying!” As the declarations registered with the boys sat around you, the napkin settled onto your nap was placed onto the table.

“Yeah, I think I’ll pass. I do need to grab something though for work, so I’ll meet you guys at the shop.” The trainer removed his wallet, then began removing some bills as the other two males celebrated your announcement by completing a high-five.

“I’m still buying something for you, Hajime. You cannot stop me if you are not there.” Tapping a single finger on the side of your head, a little ‘hmph’ was blown out.

“I won’t accept it.” He did not bother to lift his gaze, knowing well what silly expression would be adorning your visage. But what he did not account for was the threat falling from your lips.

“If you don’t, I’ll scream daddy at the top of my lungs right now.”

Matsukawa stifled his laughter at your threat, while Hanamaki finally adjusted his position on the chair, grinning ear to ear in amusement. Iwaizumi exhaled a long breath, pressing two fingers against the bridge of his nose. He knew that you were shameless enough to follow through with said warning.

“Fine. I’ll accept it.”

“That’s what I thought.”

**

One of the positives of being a model is that people generally trust your intuition when addressing matters of fashion. It was for this reason that both of your friends did not debate you on any purchases that were made on their behalf. Hanamaki’s only request was that you did not purchase anything Osamu would wear since the cook’s wardrobe consisted only of t-shirts and jeans. Within twenty minutes, both men were dressed in semi-formal attire, radiating a sense of prestige they would not otherwise have. You fit perfectly between them with your chosen ensemble – a black cocktail dress paired with shortcut boots. Heels may have matched far more, but the pain accompanying them was not worth it.

With an arm hooked to one best friend on either side, you felt royal even if they were not your escorts.

“What time is it now? Are we almost there?” The question was hummed out to Matsukawa, who was responsible for directing the trio. His eyes focused on the GPS on his phone before returning to the area ahead.

“It’s 7:25, y/n. We will be arriving according to the GPS at 7:29. We won’t be late… For the tenth time.” Casting a glance down at the shorter girl, he shook his head with a laugh leaving his lips. “So, you’re no longer Ariel, huh? Now you’re Cinderella.”

Hanamaki snickered at the observation, prompting you to lightly dig your nails into his arm in warning.  “I don’t want to mess up and be there late. Nakamura said to be there at 7:30 sharp. It’s supposed to be a surprise.”

“You’re stressing too hard for no reason. I’m sure he will be surprised if you’re there a minute late or early.” Leaning down, the funeral home attendant rested his cheek against your head in effort to sooth you. 

“You’re right…” The admission was accompanied by a weary laugh. “I just feel kinda weird in my chest. I don’t know.” Instinctively you tightened your grip on their arms, hoping to destroy the insecurities plaguing you with the warmth their bodies provided.

“I’ll text Iwa. We’ll go inside together. You’ll feel better if he’s here.” Hanamaki padded away on the screen, alerting their mutual friend that his presence was needed.

“Mm. Okay.” You were beginning to realize the negative emotions afflicting you was because you missed Oikawa. Celebrating achievements without him placed a hole deep inside of your heart – one that only he could fill with his dramatic facial reactions and goofy laughter. Little did you know the hole would only grow in size very soon. 

“Alright… So. It should be the shop right here.” Matsukawa’s voice led your attention back to the busy street. Blinking to readjust to the light, you paused when your friend did, then instinctively turned to the large windows of the shop. It was a normal reflex, one that your two friends mirrored. But none of you were mentally prepared for the scene melting into view.

Stood behind the transparent barrier was your fiancé, with three other figures. You did not pay any mind to the two men. No. Your focus was on the short blonde woman.

The same woman who was drawing your fiancé into a kiss with a fluidity that conveyed a sense of normalcy. No… She kissed him as if it were the most ordinary gesture in the world.

As if he was her lover and not yours.

Let’s do it again, shall we - human bomb

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A/N: o.o

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