#don’t worry someone is way ahead of him and is already printing the pictures of the two of them kissing to give to Aerith | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mypoisonedvine · 4 years ago

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𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐦 || werewolf!Lee Bodecker x reader

summary: being the sherriff’s department’s crime scene photographer means seeing terrible things. following lee bodecker into the woods means experiencing terrible things.

word count: almost exactly 4k

warnings: smut (noncon but she comes around eventually, if you will), werewolf sex (so...pseudo-bestiality??? but like... not really??), breeding kink, knotting, some a/b/o tropes?, kinda some degradation?, violence, vague-ish description of gore

Something undeniably wicked was lurking in the woods behind Knockemstiff, Ohio. That much was obvious.

It wasn’t your first gig as a crime scene photographer, so you knew what to expect; or, you thought you did. This town was nothing like Toledo, though, in all the worst ways. You’d left the big city in hopes that you wouldn’t have to see another drive-by shooting, another stockbroker who jumped out of his office, another mafia job left out in the street to serve as an example for would-be testifiers. You’d left to escape some of the brutality that the urban environment brought. And to be fair, it wasn’t anything like that, but it wasn’t at all better.

You’d never seen a cut this deep before. You’d never seen a body nearly turned inside out.

“It’s that damn bear,” the officer nearby announced, his words failing to distract you from your task of photographing the bloodied remains. “This happened a couple months ago, body just like this turned up. Thought we shot the damn thing but I guess we got the wrong one.”

“That can’t be right,” you frowned, stepping back and lowering the camera from your face; it looked worse when it wasn’t seen through the viewfinder, it looked more real. “Bears might maul people, but they don’t… eat them.”

“They do if they get hungry enough,” he sighed.

“Do you really believe that?” you pressed.

“I need to.”

The conversation was still echoing in your head as you drove back to the station, which was still bustling despite the day being just about to end.

You stopped by your desk to grab a folder from your top drawer, "FOR SHERIFF" written in big letters on the front. Tucking it under your arm, you navigated through the officers and secretaries mulling about to the back hallway of the station, finding the last door on the left and knocking even though it was already halfway open.

“Good evenin’ little lady,” Sheriff Bodecker greeted with a smile when he looked up at you, “got somethin’ for me?”

“Photos from yesterday,” you explained, stepping inside and setting the folder down on his desk. He opened it and flipped through your shots, nodding slightly.

"Looks good," he praised— gruff and monotone, but praise nonetheless. "I think it's enough to prove who was driving recklessly and who was just driving."

"Think they'll be all right?" you asked, remembering how one of the car crash survivors looked as they were being wheeled into an ambulance.

He sighed a little, setting the folder down. "Seems so, last I heard."

"That's good…" you trailed off, toying with the strap of your camera nervously, studying his face as he looked down at some paperwork in front of him.

You were a career woman, working in a male-dominated profession, and you had so much to prove… but god, if you didn't sometimes fantasize about the Sheriff in ways you knew you shouldn't. In spite of the fact that you were sure he wanted an obedient housewife, and that that was something you could never be, you'd been known to daydream about another life where he wasn't your boss and you weren't so worried about what other people thought and the two of you could be together.

Or, on other occasions, you just wished Knockemstiff was as liberal as Toledo, so you could have a fling with him and not worry about everybody calling you a harlot.

Either way, it could never happen. You worked with him and he worked with you; he was looking to settle down and you were looking to start your life. It was a basic incompatibility. That didn't stop you from letting your gaze linger on his hands, admiring how strong and thick they were. God, you wish he'd just grab you—

"Anything else I can do for ya?" he asked slowly, that deep voice making the question sound just a bit more dirty than he likely meant it.

"No, that'll be all," you decided, giving him a polite nod before you slipped out of his office.

Sometimes, it felt like the only chance you got to really think during the day was when you were alone in your darkroom. The photo development equipment here was significantly more primitive than what the Toledo Police Department had been able to provide, but you didn’t mind; if anything, it brought you back to your roots, when you were just a newbie photographer who wanted to make compelling art, take photos that would end up on magazine covers or beside hard-hitting journalism.

That dream had been dashed quite some time ago, but you really did enjoy your job more often than not. Sure, it came with a lot of gruesome imagery, but at least it was important, and interesting.

You couldn't be sure what time it was— with no windows and no clocks, and with hours always flying by when you were developing film— but the lack of any noise from outside your darkroom made it clear that it was quite late and everyone had left.

It was odd, then, that you did hear a noise from outside the room, like floorboards creaking. You were ready to blame the old building settling until you heard it again.

“...hello?” you asked hesitantly, the sterile echo of your voice only making you just that much more paranoid. “Is someone there? I’m just here developing my film…”

The red lights cast everything in an eerie glow— bright enough to see, but not enough to assuage your fear.

You opened the door to your darkroom slowly, careful not to let too much light in, and peered down the dark, empty halls. An uneasy feeling awakened in your gut and you swallowed nothing before hesitantly stepping out into the dark.

Another creak from around the corner made you turn, walking towards the noise and considering calling out again but suddenly afraid to speak at all.

A man's form appeared in front of you out of nowhere.

“Oh!” you gasped, but you sighed a bit when you recognized the badge glistening on his chest. “Sheriff, shit, you scared me…”

“Sorry, little lady,” he breathed, “didn’t know you were still here…”

“Come in, if I leave this door open too long it’ll let light in,” you explained, pointing to where the street lamp outside shined into the window and ushering him past you into the darkroom.

“What’re you still wearin’ that damn camera for?” he asked, pointing to your hip where it was slung at your side from over your shoulder, making you giggle a little as you shut the door behind the both of you.

“Force of habit. Never know when something worth photographing might take place,” you explained, returning to the tub of ammonium thiosulfate where you were dipping another glossy print.

“If somethin’ worth takin’ a picture of happens while you’re stuck in here, I think you’ll’ve got bigger problems than not having your camera,” he smirked.

“Fair enough,” you scoffed. “Let’s hope I never need to take pictures like these—” you tilted your head towards the pictures you’d hung to try— “unexpectedly.” Lee sauntered over to where you’d motioned, pulling one the more developed photos from the clothespins. “That’s the body we found in the woods,” you informed him, “I’m surprised you weren’t called in— it’s pretty gnarly.”

“Sweet girl like you shouldn’t have to see stuff like this,” he shook his head, sighing somberly.

“I can handle it,” you shrugged, “Believe it or not, I saw worse working mob cases.”

“I’m going with ‘not,’” he answered quickly.

He was right not to believe you, and you weren’t sure what to say now that he’d called your bluff.

“What… what perfume are you wearing?”

The question threw you off but you figured no harm could come from answering honestly. “I’m, uh, I’m not…”

He stepped closer, his footsteps soft but audible on the carpeted floor as his form settled behind yours. Your breath caught when his fingers trailed over your arm and he leaned in, pressing his face to the side of your head as he breathed in. “You smell good,” he stated plainly, deep voice vibrating in your ears and making the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.

“Um… thank you…” you answered, hearing your voice waver.

Just when you thought he might make a move (was this already a move?), and just when you thought you might actually reciprocate if he did, he pulled away. “I should… I’m sorry, I oughta— I have work to get done.”

Before you could even begin to wonder what he was talking about, he had already slipped out of the darkroom and back into the hall. Oddly enough, you were sure you heard him start running the second the door was shut. You considered shrugging it off and getting back to work, but the more you thought about it, the more you were worried. Most of all, you wondered if he had seen something in your photographs that gave him a lead on what killed the poor old man.

That possibility needed to be investigated further.

So, you powered down your equipment and left the darkroom, leaving just in time to see the Sheriff stumble out of the back door of the station, seeming to be limping slightly.

Too curious now to stay away, you followed his path and pushed the door open with your weight, seeing him making a mad dash for the nearby treeline.

“No, Lee, the woods—!” you warned, horrified to imagine that he could meet the same fate as the man in your photographs. You weren’t dressed well enough for the weather— already the evening breeze blew against your bare legs and made you shiver— but you forged ahead regardless.

The moon light was just enough to illuminate your path at first, but as the clouds moved and the tree cover grew thicker, squinting just didn’t do enough to help you see. Generally, you weren’t afraid of the dark, but this was different… it was cold, and you were alone; but you didn’t feel quite as alone as you would’ve liked to. You called out for Lee, only hearing the gentle rustle of the leaves and the occasional snapping of twigs on the ground.

At about the same time you considered turning back and using one of the station phones to call some officers for a search, you heard something. A whine, maybe, or a whimper. You weren’t sure what it was; it only just barely sounded human.

“Lee, are you out there?” you called, whipping your head around wildly.

In desperate need of light to navigate your way, you had a moment of insight and reached for the camera slung by your hip. You relieved yourself of the shoulder strap, pointed the camera ahead, and opened up the flash.

CLICK. A brief moment of light gave you at least an idea of where you were standing. It was impossible not to notice how similar it looked to the background of the photos you had just been developing. You realized, then, that you’d worried so much for Lee’s safety in these woods, but hadn’t considered your own.

Lee, at least, had a gun. You just had a camera. Both could shoot, but only one could protect you.

CLICK. You moved in the direction that you remembered as clear. It was even harder to see in the dark after the bright light had burned your eyes slightly, and you longed to reach out ahead to feel out your path yet found yourself too terrified of what you might touch. You could hear the flash charging between shots, you knew well enough by now what it sounded like when the camera was ready to shoot again.

CLICK. Something white reflected back in the distance, so you moved that way, nearly tripping on a root for your trouble.

The cloud over the moon finally blew away, and just barely— finally— your eyes could make out the shape of Lee, leaned against a tree and breathing deep and fast. His back was turned to you, but even then you could see he didn’t look well, his back bending and swelling with each panting breath that grew louder as you stepped closer.

“Oh my god, Sheriff?!” you squawked, sprinting closer. “Are you alright?” you asked loudly, but when you reached out to touch him he spun to look at you, eyes wild and teeth bared.

“Leave,” he growled between panting breaths.

“You… you’re…” you tried to begin, but you were speechless as you tried to imagine what trick of the light could make him look like he was getting taller, like his eyes and face were shifting.

“GO!” he bellowed.

You stumbled back, dropping your camera but too terrified to even hear the bulb shatter as it hit the ground. Your legs couldn’t move right, your eyes couldn’t look away from what you were seeing, and what you were seeing… you couldn’t describe it, couldn’t understand it.

It didn’t look like what scary stories and picture books told you a werewolf was. It didn’t look like an animal; it sure as hell didn’t look like a person. Disturbingly, it still looked a bit like Lee, even though his Sheriff’s uniform was tearing at the seams from his morphing, swelling body. His cries were broken and twisted as his face seemed to be overtaken by teeth— so many teeth— and dark fur.

Ultimately, one last command to "go" was lost to a howl.

You finally managed to get your brain and body on the same page, turning and scrambling to run away, hearing him chase behind you.

He walked on two legs but ran on four, his snarls coming closer and closer as you made a mad dash for the distant light of the police station. Cold wind blew past you as you sprinted, coming to a sudden halt as you tripped and landed on the ground. Leaves crunched under your hands and feet as you tried to stand back up, but he was already above you, tossing you to the ground again and pinning you at your shoulders.

You tried to kick him away once he'd turned you into your back, but it was laughable— pitiful, even. When he curled his lips back to brandish his glistening fangs, growling deeply, you were too stunned to fight. But you could beg.

“Lee, please, please don’t eat me,” you sobbed.

“I didn’t turn to feed,” he informed you, and it almost sounded like Lee, aside from the depth and roughness that shook you to your core. “I turned to mate.”

“No…” you whispered, denial more than rejection— and as you looked down between your body and his where he hovered over you, you choked on your breath at the sight of his cock, erect and reddened and.... for lack of a better word, enormous.

You weren’t excessively familiar with human cocks (not all the rumors about the new girl who moved here from the city were true), but this one seemed different than what you’d seen, most notably in the size but additionally in how you could see it pulsing and throbbing. His teeth were bared as his claw-laden hands grabbed your legs, lifting and spreading them. Your stupid dress just fell away and exposed you easily, like it didn’t even care that he was a monster.

Your panties were already damp, like you didn’t even care that he was a monster.

A deep breath in through his snout-like nose made it clear he was picking up your scent. He grinned and you shuddered.

You’d seen how deep those claw marks could go, so you were surprised when he was delicate enough to tear your clothes off without ripping your skin. The fear that he could or would, though, kept your heart pumping plenty fast— or maybe that was because of his dark blue eyes scanning your nude form hungrily.

He adjusted your hips as he held you with his… paws, one might call them, pulling you closer and bumping his thick, swollen head against your entrance.

"No, you can't—" you stammered, not sure if you meant morally or physically. There was no way that would fit in you, right? There was no way Lee would force himself on you… right?

The noise you made when he pushed into your channel was, ironically, animalistic. His intrusion stretched you wide and filled you deep, and he wasted no time in setting a brutal pace that slammed his rough, strong thighs against the back of your soft ones.

Fear paralyzed you, made you unwilling and unable to fight back. He was all claws and teeth— where could you reach to try to push him away, without the extremely high risk of him just biting your weak little hand off? No, it was better that you just laid there, whimpering and sobbing and trying with all your might not to moan at the feeling of being fucked, hard, in the woods, by a beast.

His tongue on your neck was an odd sensation, another way he forced you to acknowledge that this wasn’t normal— because no human tongue was this long, this thick and hot, nor surrounded by sharp teeth that grazed your jaw and cheek.

“Gonna breed you,” he informed you coldly. It made you squirm beneath him with renewed vigor, desperate not to be filled with the seed of— well, of anyone, but especially not this thing. Could it get you pregnant, were you even biologically compatible? You didn’t want to find out.

“Please, no,” you whimpered.

“If you hate it so much then why is your cunt sucking me in so tight?” he whispered gruffly against your ear before licking it, too, with that cursed tongue.

His question was probably rhetorical, but either way you couldn’t answer it— you had no idea why your body was submitting so easily, why your walls welcomed him so eagerly, why your legs wrapped around his hips to pull him closer. Further, you had no idea why you were about to come.

Numbness and sensitivity warred across your body, everything feeling tighter and hotter and heavier until you finally snapped and your body shook and convulsed. His arms reached beneath where your back was arching, and you clutched at his shoulders as your fingers weaved into the fur you found there.

Of course he didn’t stop when you reached your peak, he wouldn’t stop for anything now, so you were forced to take him just as deep and hard as always even as your body went limp and became overwhelmingly sensitive. It was clear, then, that your pleasure was only collateral damage to him; he was using your body for whatever he wanted, to sate his biological drive to impregnate something. Like everything else about this, it was disgusting yet annoyingly arousing.

It's hard to say how long you laid there, limply jolting with each of his thrusts, dripping your arousal onto the cold earth beneath you, moaning weakly as you alternated between pleading for mercy and pleading for more. You watched the clouds blow through the night sky, afraid to look up at his monstrous face, at his pointed ears and shining teeth. Occasionally you glanced down and noted the way your stomach bulged from the size of him; you couldn't look at that anymore because it would either make you sick or make you come again.

You gurgled and choked as you felt his cock swelling inside you— bigger, wider, until your body was stretched beyond its limits.

"Take my knot," he instructed darkly, "my little bitch."

Disturbingly, you realized he probably wasn't calling you that to insult you: it was literal. You were his breeding bitch, a womb to carry his litter, and you whined at the way it made your gut sink in shame.

His noises were more animal-like than ever while he came inside you, thick come all but pouring into you as he panted and growled. Funny thing was, it just didn't stop: he kept coming for so long, giving you so much while the knot kept every drop inside.

You'd never felt so full in your life, of anything, let alone hot come that made you feel warm and sticky and dripping wet.

The knot kept you plugged and showed no signs of going down as he caged your body in, nuzzling into your neck. He could bite you now and end it all, but you weren't afraid of that since he seemed to have found a better purpose for you. His heavy breathing made his back rise and curve above you, his clawed hands pinning your wrists beside your head while he started to lick and nibble at your ear, neck, and collarbone.

You didn't even notice that you'd fallen asleep until you awoke in the wee hours of the morning— that time just before sunrise where there's light but no real color in the sky yet— with Lee asleep on top of you. Regular Lee, that is, naked with no fur whatsoever and a normal cock that had softened inside you.

Okay, maybe "normal" was a strong word considering it was still pretty big and deliciously thick despite not even being hard anymore, but at the very least totally human.

"Lee," you whispered harshly, shaking him to try to wake him up. "Sheriff."

He stirred, and his cock moved inside you; the subtle stimulation on your sore insides made you moan lowly and involuntarily squeeze your walls around him. That got his attention, and you heard his breathing change beside your ear before he groaned a little.

"Mornin'," he greeted, his grin audible in his tone as he sat up slightly and looked down at you. You reached up and brushed your hand over his chest, happy to find a much thinner layer of hair there than last night. "Of all the times I woke up in this forest with no fuckin' idea what happened the night before… this has got to be my favorite."

"What's the last thing you remember?" you asked.

"I told you to run… I must've caught you, huh…"

You nodded and bit your lip.

"You know I can't stop, when I'm like that… I didn't mean to—"

"It's okay," you sighed, "you didn't— it wasn't you."

"But it's my seed in you," he remembered, his words sending a little tingle up your spine.

He must have felt it, must have seen your eyes widen or heard you gasp a little, because he grinned proudly as he looked down at you.

"Oh, you really love it, huh? Love bein' mine…"

His hands held your arms tight as he pinned them down, making you whimper a little while he leaned in to suck on your neck.

"Love bein' bred like a bitch, ain't that right?"

You heard the deep, desperate moan before you even realized it had come from your mouth, his chuckle beside your ear making your heart twist.

"Yeah, I can tell… who knew you were so dirty, little lady? Sweet girl like you shouldn't be gettin' off on being ravaged in the woods by a monster."

"Y-you're not a monster," you protested weakly.

"I eat people," he reminded you, letting go of your hands which you instantly weaved into his hair.

"Well, that's… everybody's got flaws, that's all."

"Yeah? And what's yours?" he teased.

"I've got a crush on my boss," you answered with a grin, "and I came harder than I ever have in my life being fucked by… what are you?"

"The clinical term is lycanthrope."

"Right," you nodded, "that."

"And what would a pretty girl like you have a crush on me for, hm?"

"I dunno," you smiled coyly, running a finger down his chest, "guess I just thought you were cute…"

"Cute?!" he scoffed incredulously.

"Yeah… and sweet… you know, you go around actin' all tough and stuff, but I think you're really just harmless."

He cut you off with a growl as he lightly bit at your neck, holding your arms down again and tightening his grip on your wrists until you yelped and giggled happily. "Oh, honey, you have no idea yet just how monstrous I can really be…"

#lee bodecker x reader #lee bodecker smut #lee bodecker x you #werewolf!lee bodecker #?? how do I tag this lol

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nohoney · 4 years ago

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Eyes lit

notes: Artist Keigo is something I did not know I needed until I made my own dumb paintings lol. Title credit from Crimewave by Crystal Castles

characters: Hawks/Keigo Takami

warnings: 18+, artist!Hawks, drug use, minor choking

summary:

You see swirls of purples and greens forming spirals that you’ve never thought of before, dancing like glitter being blown in the wind and then suddenly you see white. You’re thinking in tones of purples and pinks, they pulse and shine against a wall of white and now you’re thinking of Valentine’s day.

The blanket is pulled from over your head and you look up into golden honey eyes, they look even brighter and you swear that they glow as you look up into them. “You having fun under there babe?”

I’m not an artist, I don’t know how to paint. You told him, intimidated initially when you walked into his apartment and saw a box of paints along with two small easels. The only painting you’ve done was just with your fingers back in elementary school when you were a child, how were you supposed to paint alongside someone who’s a fucking art major who’s got a whole portfolio to backup his experience? But Keigo eased your worries, told you that there’s no need to be intimidated at all.

“You don’t have to worry at all about being good or anything like that dove. The trip will tell you what to paint.”

“It’s gonna look like shit when the trip is over Keigo.”

“Don’t say that dove, art is subjective. Trust me, when you’re on you won’t care as much.” He touches the small of your back and leads you towards the dinner table, “And besides, you might really like what you make in the end.”

“I don’t know what I want to paint.”

“The trip will tell you what to paint, you’ll see.”

Keigo has you sit down to eat first, just takeout pizza from a nearby restaurant along with some breadsticks. Barbecue chicken with a side of ranch, he doesn’t like pepperoni pizza at all. His first choice was fried chicken or wings but that’s damn near what you eat with him almost all the time so this is his compromise. He’s got a little basket of snacks and candy on his kitchen countertop, prepared ahead of time for tonight along with a plastic container of red and green grapes already washed.

“I don’t like grapes Keigo.”

“Trust me, you’ll be grateful to those grapes when you’re on dove.”

He brought out a plastic baggie from his fridge and set out the contents of it onto a wooden chopping board, watching as he broke up the small pieces carefully with a knife. You heard that acid comes in forms of little blotter paper or that people put a drop of it into sugar cubes and dissolve it in water to micro dose someone. Keigo cuts two pieces of what look like little window panes, very small fragments and when you inspect them closer, it almost looks as if there’s little gold flakes inside the gelatin.

“When will I know it’s kicking in?” you ask him, looking down at the tiny piece that sits in the palm of your hand. Such a small little thing that’s apparently a strong hallucinogenic, Keigo’s told you before that he’s felt his sensations cross over like hearing colors or seeing sounds. You had no idea what he spoke of but the best way to find out is to give it a try. “How long will it take?”

Keigo’s fixing up the easels in front of the couch, has blankets ready and is putting a video playlist up on his television. “Depends on the person but most of the time it tends to kick in after half an hour or so. You’ll know when you’re on, you’ll see it.” he explains.

You look around Keigo’s apartment, paintings he made himself hung up on the walls of his home. Most of his paintings were done sober but he’s got a few framed up that he’s particularly proud of that he made when he went on acid trips. He’s already such an amazing artist, certain pictures on his walls capturing your attention and invoking particular emotions from you. You’ve seen Keigo color match your sweater in just a mere manner of seconds, sampling little bits of paints and combining them until the hues matched exactly what you were wearing. And there’s you, just a mere amateur when it came to the arts. But Keigo assures you again that it’s not about making something ‘good’, it’s just there for you to have fun with it. He’s got canvases of all shapes and sizes for you to work with and that even though he’ll be on too, he’s definitely going to take care of you for your first trip.

You trust Keigo, it’s just the canvases and the paints that make you nervous.

He stands in front of you, smiling gently before leaning down to kiss you. His lips are soft, just a hint of vanilla you taste off his mouth because you let him borrow your chapstick earlier, and it’s so tender the way he holds your cheek in his hand that your heart flutters in your chest and butterflies tickle the inside of your tummy. You feel a little flustered when he pulls back, blonde hair swept back stylishly and a lazy grin on his face as he holds his own tab in between his fingertips.

“Cheers!”

The little tab goes underneath your tongue and you’re just supposed to wait for it to dissolve.

So Keigo puts on the playlist and the two of you talk for a little bit before moving to the art stations. “Choose whatever colors you want dove, choose the colors that you think will speak to you.”

You squeeze certain colors you think you want to work with into your little plastic palette, making sure to shake the bottles first and filling all the little spaces that’s meant to hold the paint. Keigo easily chooses the paints he knows he’s going to work with to start himself off and sets himself in front of his easel. He wears a simple red hoodie and gray sweats, comfortable loungewear for the next few hours and you’d be lying if you said that you didn’t notice the print of his cock sometimes when he swiveled his hips a certain way. You wear pajamas pants and one of your soft sweaters, a gentle shade of lilac, perfect for keeping you warm on this rainy night.

You know you’ll be exhausted by the end of it, deciding to take acid for the first time overnight but at least you’ll have the next two days to recover.

And you’ll have Keigo as well.

He makes easy conversation with you, talking about how his week was and in turn asking how yours was. You look down at the paints in your palette as you talk back and forth with him, forcing yourself to not wonder how much time has passed. Your phone is by the kitchen table, placed face down so that you don’t obsess over the time so you try to measure the amount of time has passed based on the time of the videos playing on the television. Yet you start to care less about the time as you actually start to get caught up in the paints in front of you, experimenting and pleasantly surprised with how you came up with such a pretty violet color. You point it out to Keigo, stupidly excited over it but he smiles and agrees with you. “Such a pretty color dove, but not as pretty as you.”

His words make the butterflies flutter in your stomach again but you say nothing, turning back to your canvas and picking up a brush. For a few minutes you just stare back and forth between the paint and the white canvas, wondering how you should start off. Keigo obviously sees you concentrating too hard and reminds you, “Don’t think about it too hard, just paint and see what happens.”

Okay... so in other words, just do it.

So you take a deep breath, dip your brush in the paint, and make a single stripe at the very top edge of the canvas.

“See? Not so scary.”

“Y-Yeah, it’s not!” You squeak out, still embarrassed but a little less intimidated now that you actually started it. You’re not exactly sure what you’ll do with it but there’s no harm in just winging it.

Hm... wings...

You glance over to Keigo, one of his sleeves rolled up and his tattoo visible on his forearm. It’s a detailed wing on his forearm inked in only black, the very tip of it extended towards his elbow and he’s got a matching one on his other forearm as well. You remember the first time you saw them and how Keigo let you run your fingers over his tattoo, watching in amusement over how fascinated you were.

Back to your canvas, you see the sheen of the fresh paint on the white canvas and decide to add more to it. Maybe you’ll get inspired the more you add to it, thinking what colors compliment violet and what exactly you could create. Over the next few minutes you just continue painting the violet further onto the surface of the canvas, looking down briefly at the black paint that’s also in your palette and wonder if you could try painting a mountain. You recall plenty of times looking up at the sky when you were done hiking and just in awe of the colors of the sunset, hues of purples and reds and orange that invoked a certain feeling in your chest.

A sunset... a sunset!

Easy enough yeah?

You just have to add red, orange, yellow, probably a touch of blue... some clouds would be nice too.

So you spread more of the purple across the canvas, concentrating hard at first before realizing something. “Keigo?”

“Yes dove?”

“I think my painting is breathing.”

Keigo laughs from his side and you feel his hand ruffle your hair affectionately.

You look hard at your canvas and swear that you can see the paint inhale and exhale, the veins of the paint pulse in the painting. Wait... veins? You don’t remember painting anything like that, all you did was just cover part of the canvas to get you started. The longer you stare at the canvas, you swear that you can see the paint drip down slightly, the canvas inflating and deflating, and hidden designs on the untouched parts of the white canvas.

The acid had finally hit.

“Keigo... I think I’m on.” you say as you dip your brush into the water cup to wash off the violet, this time into the yellow paint and haphazardly brushing it onto the canvas before switching over to the bright red without washing off the yellow. You think how powerful the color red is, how strong and overpowering it is on the canvas and you tell Keigo, “I think you’d look gorgeous with red wings Keigo.”

Keigo is concentrated on his own canvas but he does glance over to you and smiles how you’re suddenly so into painting when you were so reluctant at first when you walked into his studio. He watches you blend the red into the yellow, wondering what exactly is inspiring you and what your finished product will be. “Ah how interesting dove, you comparing me to an angel?”

“Angel wings are white, I said your wings would be red.”

“Why red?”

You shrug your shoulders as you brush some blue onto the violet on the top of the canvas, blending the blue and violet together. “I don’t know, just suits you a lot... I wore wings last year, I was an angel last year for Halloween.”

“You dressed like an angel last year for Halloween, you certainly didn’t act like one.”

Suddenly the memory of last year’s Halloween comes rushing to the front of your memory and you begin to giggle, needing to set your brush down and have your little giggle fit; he was very right, drunk shenanigans in your angelic costume while holding White Russians with your friends surfacing to your mind. You don’t know why you’re so amused but you are, leaning back against the couch and curling yourself into a ball. You pull the blanket over your shoulders, pulling the bottom corners into your lap and you look down in awe. You swear that even though you’re sitting still, the blanket looks like it’s pulsing as well and you can see the small fibers of it sticking out from the surface. You can’t help but pick at one and hold it in between your fingertips, staring for a few seconds before releasing it.

Moving to lie on your side, you press your cheek into the couch cushion and stare at the painting you just started. It looks weird right now, purple on top with yellow and red in the middle but you’re determined that you’re going to paint that sunset!

You look over towards Keigo, seeing that he started off his canvas a golden yellow at first and is brushing a crimson red on top of it as well. It sort of reminds you of fire and you wonder what he’s seeing. You pull the blanket over your head, sheltering you from the bright lights of the room and you stare at your own hands right in front of your face. Every line and wrinkle is moving, like they’re switching places on you and you ‘ooh’ quietly. When you shut your eyes, it’s not a straight darkness you see like when you close your eyes and go to bed. You see swirls of purples and greens forming spirals that you’ve never thought of before, dancing like glitter being blown in the wind and then suddenly you see white. You’re thinking in tones of purples and pinks, they pulse and shine against a wall of white and now you’re thinking of Valentine’s day.

The blanket is pulled from over your head and you look up into golden honey eyes, they look even brighter and you swear that they glow as you look up into them. “You having fun under there babe?” Keigo asks you, clearly amused to have looked back and saw you as just a lump under his blanket. “Yeah, looks like you’re having fun.”

“Hehehe... yeah.” you smile up at him, pushing some of your hair back from your face. You look as he presents a single red grape to you, drops of water still on it to let you know that it had just been washed and while grapes weren’t your favorite fruit to eat, somehow they looked so appetizing in that moment. You open your mouth and Keigo places the fruit into your mouth, chomping down and it’s so juicy and firm and crunches so loud in your head that you moan as you chew.

Delicious, it’s delicious!

Keigo feeds you grapes every so often, whether you’re sitting in front of your canvas to continue painting, looking at the television and the visuals presented along with the music, get up to look at his other paintings that you think are whispering or waving to you, or when you decide to just stare at the tapestry he hung up in front of his balcony. You understand why tie dye is so appealing to look at now, you know for sure it’s not the wind making the tapestry move, the colors waving at you and you try to reach into the tapestry, your fingertips just barely grasping the colors in front of you.

“How long has it been Keigo?” you ask as you continue to look at the tapestry.

“It’s almost eleven, so it’s been three hours since we took it.”

Wow, three hours...

You’re not sure how the passage of time is feeling for you, everything is looking warped and you suppose that your sense of time is included in that as well.

You feel hands under your armpits and your lifted up to your feet, leaning back and touching the arms that hold you securely. The tattooed wings on Keigo’s forearm, the feathers look as if they’re rustled, they look like they need to be preened. It’s important for birds to preen their feathers so that their wings look presentable. “Okay dove, time for a bathroom break. Think you’ll need my help?”

No, you’re a big girl, of course you can go to the bathroom yourself.

Though you do have to ask Keigo to hold your hand, looking down at the floor and not trusting your own feet. It’s like you’re looking through a fish eye lens, like the floor seems so much wider and closer to you. Keigo says something to you when he drops you off at the bathroom but you don’t hear him, humming absently and you close the door. You do your business and wash your hands, using the nearby hand towel to dry off your hands and then you look up at the mirror.

You lean forward and inspect your pupils, they’re blown up and you think you can see shifting colors in your iris. You really are on, pulling back and inspecting your reflection. Now you feel like you’re caught, not sure if you recognize the person who’s looking back at you and... and... is the shower curtain moving towards you? Is that really you in the mirror? Your hair is never this mussed up and the color of your shirt you always liked before but why did it look so weird on you now?

“Dove, I’m coming in.” Keigo announces and slowly pushes open the door so that he doesn’t catch you in any indecent state. But he sees you just staring intently at your reflection and just comes up behind you, pressing his front to your back and tilting your head back to look at him. “Ah got caught looking at yourself in the mirror huh? S’alright, the first time I did acid apparently I spent a half hour just looking at my own reflection too.”

His eyes are the color of honey and you think you can suddenly taste it in your mouth, you imagine it. “Your eyes are pretty.”

“You’re pretty.”

But you shake your head at the compliment and ask, “Did I always look so weird Keigo?” you ask him, reaching one hand up and brushing the tips of your fingers along his stubble.

“No you never look weird, you’re always so cute.” he reassures you, pressing a kiss to the tip of your nose. “Go back to the living room, lemme have my bathroom break and I’ll join you in a hot minute.”

“Don’t fall in the mirror.” you say absently as you walk out the bathroom and shut the door. You hold onto anything you can to help balance you, the floorboards beneath your feet look as if they’re trying to trip you up but you manage on your own to make your way back to your spot on the couch, staring at your unfinished painting.

What... what was I making again?

Violet, blue, red, yellow... oh yeah, the sunset.

Keigo really was right when he said that trip would decide what you would paint.

You don’t hear the bathroom door open but you look up as Keigo comes into your vision and ask, “How do I make clouds?”

“How do you mean? Like how clouds are made in the sky? Well you see clouds are made of water droplets that are so small that they’re able to stay in the air. You see the water vapor-” Keigo starts on what you know is a very educational lecture on clouds but you stop him with a whine, pointing to your canvas. “Oh... oh! You want to know how to paint clouds. Haha, sorry dove!”

Keigo makes himself comfortable right behind you, your bodies once again pressed to one another as he hands you the palette of paint and picks up a different paint brush has you hold it in your own hand but he covers it with his own; you’ll hold the brush while he controls your movements. So he dips the paint brush in the white paint, also adding in a touch of red that almost makes it pink and you gasp. It’s not gonna go together! you think but Keigo hushes you, tells you to just trust him. And although you’re watching how he dabs the paintbrush onto your canvas, you’re not really perceiving the process. One minute it’s a messy slate of purple, yellow and red and then boom suddenly there are clouds that actually create a picture. “Ah you were trying to make a sunset, I can see why you wanted to paint clouds. Very creative, I’m proud of you!”

“I did that?”

“You did!”

He praises you as if you were a child doing it for the first time... though you actually are painting for the first time and honestly it actually is coming out pretty nice, though it’s only thanks to the help of Keigo. So you look back at him, pressing your lips against briefly and whisper out, “Thank you.”

Returning back to his canvas, you decide that you can continue painting on your own. You close your eyes and try to remember any memory that contains a sunset, whether it was through your own eyes or perhaps looking at images on the internet. You try your hardest, your mind producing more interesting shapes and patterns of colors that almost distract you but you’re going to pain that sunset damn it! So you blend the colors on the canvas, adding in more tones of violet and purple towards the bottom to cover up the blank spots. You thought about adding in a mountain or some trees but you feel that’s much too advanced for you to attempt, though you know that you can ask Keigo again but he already helped you once. Now you were determined to do another by yourself.

You ask if you can have another canvas and Keigo gets up to the little pile of untouched ones. When he hands you one and ask if it’s a good size, it’s a question you can really answer because the way he holds it out to you makes it seem to long. And realizing that your perception is altering the way you look at the canvas, he holds it upright for you and you ask for something a little bigger.

Carefully setting aside the sunset painting... whoa it’s like the clouds are really moving!

Focus.

You set up the new blank canvas in front of you, wondering what to make next.

“Ah I almost forgot, I got this for you too while I was at the craft store.” Keigo tells you as he brings up the box paints, holding out a tube of-

“Ooooh... glitter.” you awe at the opalescent colors, holding it against the light to see sheens of white and pink and purple. You’re not sure if it’s the acid or not but it looks extra pretty and you shake the little tube in your hand.

“Have fun with it just uh... make sure to not get too messy.”

You could imagine such pretty colors like the stars and them falling into your eyes... oh, you could make a starry night for your next painting. So you enthusiastically brush more violet and blue onto the new canvas along with a touch of black to make a dark sky. The canvas breathes at you and you think that the more color you add to it, you think you can hear it sigh in relief. You blend it all together and wonder what else you could add to it. You drift to the palette and zero in on the white paint, exchanging your current paint brush for a smaller one, dipping it into the white paint and just making little dots here and there to represent the stars. Then you open the tube of fine glitter and you’re particularly giddy; your painting is going to be amazing, it’s going to look exactly like the night sky... no even better! It’ll be like the cosmos!

You must have been a little overzealous with the glitter on your painting because Keigo nudges a towel just right underneath your easel and you feel him pat down your feet.

Careful with the edges of the painting since it’s still wet, you gently shake off any of the excess glitter and then lean back to really inspect it. In the moment it really looks like a beautiful starry sky and you think that you can literally see shooting stars in it, so sparkly and pretty in the moment. You pull the blanket back over your body and crawl your way to Keigo’s side of the couch, sitting behind him and perching your chin atop his shoulder. Weird, you could have sworn that when he first started painting he started off with yellow and red, he’s painting over it with blue and green now. “Keigo, what are you painting?”

“I don’t know. I started off thinking about fire at first and then all of a sudden I just started putting green and blue together... I think I might have been either thinking about the ocean or the forest... I forget.” Keigo explains, still not stopping his paint brush over the surface. You guess that even artists start off sometimes nonsensical too and that they don’t always have a clear idea how their end product might come out. But you still admire it anyway, reaching your hand out and loosely holding onto his wrist. His arms look even longer from where you’re looking and yet he’s sitting so close to his painting at the same time.

Perception sure is a strange thing when you’re on.

He smells nice, pressing your nose into his neck and breathing in his cologne, humming in delight and pressing yourself even closer to him.

Now you’re not exactly the bold type, every once in a while you’ve decided to make the first move but most of the time you let others give you the signal first before you flirt back. Already you and Keigo have been seeing each other for a few weeks, a few dates here and there but you’ve yet to progress anything spicier than a few make outs and maybe some teasing touches. So it comes as a surprise to him when you drag a hand down from his chest and let it rest in between his spread legs, groaning when you lick the shell of his ear and nibble on it. “B-Babe... we’re supposed to be... to be...”

“Painting? That canvas isn’t the only thing you can paint Keigo.” you whisper in his ear, feeling for his cock in his gray sweats and pleased that you can feel that he’s getting hard. You form your hand over his cock and stroke it through the sweats while your other hand drags over his arm, still stretched out towards the painting but now his arm is tense. “For example... you can paint me with your cum. Inside or out, I’ll let the artist decide.”

Keigo sets down his paint brush and his palette before tugging you to his bed.

It’s dark in his room when he shuts the door but you’re quickly put on the surface of his bed. You can hear him fiddling around somewhere in the corner of the room and then red light fills the room, it’s pretty basic of him to own those strip lights seeing as you’ve had more than a few friends decorate their room with it too but now isn’t the time to critique the mood lighting. You do have to wonder why the color red, why not just put on the regular ceiling lights?

He’s on you once the lights are on, pulling off your pajama bottoms and setting them to the side for the time being. Spreading your legs open, Keigo starts off with kissing the inside of your thighs and slowly goes up higher. Your panties are still on but you moan softly when he kisses your pussy through the cotton, then it’s up to your belly button, pushing your sweater up along with the soft bra you decided to wear tonight as stops to pay attention to your breasts, nipples perked up to the cold air along with the way Keigo flicks his tongue over them. While he sucks hickies onto your breasts, you run your hand through his hair and look up at the ceiling, you think you can hear the flap of a bird’s wings and think something flutters from the corner of your eye. “K-Keigo... is it okay for us to do this while we’re on?”

“You’re safe babe, I’m here.” he assures you as he helps tug off your sweater over your head. “Just focus on me, I’ve done this before.”

Oh great, he didn’t just allude that he’s fucked other people on acid before did he?

Keigo seems to catch his choice of words and grinds his clothed cock against your panties and gives you an apologetic smile. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. I just mean that sometimes sex on acid can be a precarious thing to engage in, I just wanna let you know that I got you.” he presses the pad of his thumb where he guesses your clit is. “You trust me yeah?”

Yeah, I do.

“How about a little art lesson for ya? That’ll help get you in the mood and you’ll learn something interesting.” Keigo takes off his sweats and his underwear, leaving you the only one who’s almost naked in the room. The music still plays from the living room, smooth guitar and easy beats still reach your ears. “You wanna know why I made the lights red? Red provokes the strongest emotion and is considered the warmest and most contradictory of the colors. Can you tell me some things you think of when you think of the color red?”

Apples, firetrucks, blood.

“Red is one of the most visible colors in the spectrum, its the kind of color that’s an attention grabber which is why it’s used to warn people of danger. Red can convey a sense of danger,” Keigo explains this while he pets you through your panties, it’s almost leisurely the way he does it but he can see how you quiver underneath his touch. “but it’s also associated with excitement, that even sometimes just being exposed to the color can cause elevated blood pressure and heart rate.”

Your heart rate is certainly up right now and it’s not just because of the acid.

You feel Keigo pull your panties to the side and easily glide a finger in but he wants something in return as well, “Spit in your hand and stroke my cock.”

As you stroke Keigo and he gently fingers you, he continues on about his lesson on the color red. “So along with danger, excitement, there’s also aggression and dominance. There’s not exactly a clear reason why red is associated with dominance, maybe it just goes hand in hand with feeling aggressive, perhaps also representing power as well.”

“K-Kei... please get to the point!” you whine, sitting up with one hand braced on the bed while the other continues to stroke him. He’s added another finger and you notice that he’s put a little bit more vigor in his actions. “Please won’t you just-”

“Most of all though, my little bird,” Keigo continues over you but you can take a guess where this ‘art lesson’ is going by the way his lips quirk up and how is voice drops. “red is also linked to passion, love, and desire, that it’s apparently a very attractive color. You remember what color you wore the first time we met?”

“You... you saying that you only liked me ‘cause I was wearing red?” you ask, a breathy laugh leaving your lips but then whine as Keigo strokes your g-spot and you almost dropped back onto the bed but he’s quick to catch you. He quickly pulls his fingers out of you and winds it around your waist to pull you flush against him and settles you in his lap, your hand trapped between your bodies but you continue to jerk his cock despite the limited space.

Keigo chuckles along with you, leaning down to press a kiss to your neck and give you a gentle bite. “Aha I’m just teasing you dove, it was your cute face I saw first and besides, you weren’t wearing a red shirt when we first met... You were wearing red panties, I remember seeing them when you bent over in that short little black dress.”

“You’re embarrassing.” you mumble, adjusting yourself so that you hover over his cock, slapping the head of it against your clit. “And that wasn’t an art lesson, that was more like color psychology.”

“You still learned something, did you not?”

You cup Keigo’s cheeks in your hands, kissing him briefly and pull back to tell him, “I’m not looking to learn anything except how your cock feels inside me.”

So you brace your arms around Keigo’s shoulders, sighing as he eases himself into you slowly. His hands hold your ass, gently lifting you off his cock and then easing you down again to take him further, repeating the process until his girth was sheathed all the way inside you. You gasp together, you at his size and him at your tightness, hands all over each other and you’re wondering where his body begins and yours ends. Whatever other cocks you had inside you before, they’ve never felt like this when they first entered you.

And then the two of you are moving in sync with one another, holding each other’s gaze, just barely able to see the reflection of each other in your blown out pupils. You can’t really see the honey gold of his eyes thanks to the lights but you you think you can taste it still, every time you just taste that sweet nectar when you look into Keigo’s eyes. It must mean how sweet he is, that must be why his eyes are colored like that.

He’s sweet like honey.

Again, you hear the flap of a bird’s wings even though you know the bedroom window isn’t open.

It’s slow and sensual at first, sex on acid is something more heightened, something indescribable behind the sensations as you lean back slightly to roll your hips while you meet Keigo’s thrusts. Your hands locked behind his neck and your head lolling back, a sensual sigh from you when you feel a hand go to your throat. A breathy ‘yes’ spills from your lips as the pads of the fingers carefully press at the sides of your neck; feels good, feels so good...

Suddenly you’re pushed onto your back, gasping in surprise at first and then uninhibited moans as he viciously fucks you. And what can you do but take it, take all of it, peering at him through the haze of pleasure and the peak of your high when you see it.

Bright red wings spreading from Keigo’s back, brighter than the lights, the feathers ruffle and seem to groan alongside him, he’s losing himself in this carnal moment, bracing himself over you and the wings coming forward as well. You feel floaty, almost as if the wings are carrying you themselves, you think you can feel feathers tickle your skin while Keigo’s hands have your hands pinned above your head, your ankles locking just right above his buttocks.

It feels like the sex is lasting forever, that as fast and hard Keigo pumps into you it feels never ending. In truth you don’t know how much time has actually passed, just that the passage of time seems longer. But it feels good, you feel one with Keigo and even just the slightest clench of your fingers intertwined with his feels even more intimate. His panting, your whimpers, the music, the lights, the flapping of the wings, and you crying out his name.

Even as you clench your eyes shut, swirling patterns of hues of red dance behind your eyelids. They seem to move in time with Keigo’s tempo, every slap of his hips connecting with your body, they respond accordingly. You feel one of his hands drawn down from your neck, past your breasts, giggling when he goes over your belly button, and groan when he plays with your clit.

He praises you, tells you how good you’re doing even though you’re just lying there and taking it, you try to participate by rolling your hips up to meet his but his power is just too overwhelming. “Kei... Kei... go, it feels so good...!”

You wriggle your other hand free from his and pull him down, practically hugging him and bringing him even closer, eyes shut hard as he goes into double time. His face is pushed into your neck, breathing hard into it and you think you can hear his wings flapping even harder. His hands hold your waist, just lifting you up slightly so that your back slightly arches.

Soft skin against rough hands.

“Where you going to paint your cum Keigo?” you ask, your lips just barely brushing against the shell of his ear. “All over my face? My tits? Maybe... even turn me around and blow it all over my back?”

“Fuck! Keep talking like that! ’M gonna cum dove... I’m gon’a cum!”

You push him back just enough and once again cup his face in your hands, “Look at me when you cum.”

Jittery nods of his head, he’ll absolutely obey anything you want as long as you don’t let him leave inside of you. All over your face would be so nice, your tits even nicer, he hasn’t pulled out to cum on someone’s back in months but fuck when you mention it, it’s so fucking enticing. But nothing beats when it’s oozing out, like ice cream melting on a hot day as it drips so he has to ask you if it’s okay. “Babe... can I paint you inside babe?”

Does an artist even have to ask permission to paint their canvas?

“Yeah... paint me white inside.”

And that’s all permission he needs, a few harsh thrusts and he cums with you, his cum shooting inside you while you gush around him, almost like it’s trying to push him out. But he stays inside you, his visit isn’t over quite yet, he doesn’t want to leave, not when he feels so connected with you.

You catch your breath, blinking your bleary eyes and see all of those red feathers slowly leave Keigo’s back. You don’t know how many there are, maybe two hundred or something like that, but you watch them leave one by one, almost as if they’re each being controlled individually. You think Keigo is the one that’s dismissing the feathers and you reach out towards them; you never got the chance to touch them.

Hands sliding down his back, you express a mild disgust over how sweaty Keigo is, “Ew... take a shower.”

“Only if you come with me.” Keigo chuckles pushing himself off you but wiping at your forehead as well. Geez, you hadn’t even realized you sweated too.

So the two of you stand under the warm shower spray, he lathers his shampoo and conditioner into your hair first, washing it out for you before you return the favor for him. You note how even more intimate this is compared to the sex before, looking up into his eyes and you give each other an endearing smile. The peak has been passed and now the acid will ease off, already things look a little less distorted and the intense distortions don’t feel like they used to when you first started.

“How are my eyes dove? Getting lost in them?” Keigo chuckles but he doesn’t give you a chance to answer, choosing to kiss you instead. “Did you mind that our first time was on acid?”

“No, it was good.” you tell him as you draw a single line on his collarbone with the tip of your finger. “I can’t wait to have regular, sober sex with you.”

“Hehe, I hope it compares well to my first performance.”

“I don’t know,” you singsong to him, “maybe you set the bar too high having first time on acid.”

“Well don’t say that now.”

The two of you laugh together, he playfully pushes your head but pulls you back in for another kiss. The water runs down both of your bodies and you pull back, looking down at the ground. Keigo thinks that you’re looking down at his cock and that you might be up for another round but you look back up at him and ask, “My feet are like a million miles away... have I always been this tall?”

You dry up together and change into clean clothes, returning to the easels and you’re surprised that the television still is playing music from the playlist. After so long without having your phone, you check the time to see that it’s well into two in the morning and it’s no wonder that you feel tired, not just from the sex but how late it was as well.

You curl up onto the couch while Keigo still works on his painting, the last thing you see were your sunset painting alongside the starry night one, the clouds shifting on one and the other still sparkles with shooting stars.

━━━━✧

“Ugh, I told you that they’d look like shit when the trip is over.”

“Don’t say that, they look fantastic.”

You hold up both of their canvases and each hand, looking deadpan at him with tired eyes. “This one looks like I just puked glitter on it and the only part of this one that is good are the clouds that you helped me paint!” you sigh out and look down at each of the paintings. You knew it, you weren’t an artist after all and you had thought that you did such a good job last night.

Keigo takes your starry night painting and brings it over to the sink, banging the edge of it gently a few times to shake off any glitter that didn’t dry on the paint before handing it back to you. “See, now it looks a little less like glitter puke and I have to tell you this dove, but you painted those clouds yourself.”

Huffing at him, you set down the starry night painting and look down at your sunset painting. “Keigo, I know I was on last night but you for sure helped me paint the clouds. I remember that part pretty clearly, don’t try to treat me like I’m a kid and say some bullshit to make me feel better.”

“I helped you get started but I saw that you picked it up on your own and you painted the rest of it yourself, I swear.”

“Keigo-”

He stops you with a soft call of your name and even though the two of you are tired as hell and feel disassociated from your own bodies and personalities, something tugs in your heart that way he says your name. “I’m serious, I helped you start making the clouds but you actually got the hang of it and watched you do it yourself. I told you the trip would tell you what to paint and you did it!”

You still look disbelieving at him, swearing that you thought you felt his hand help you paint last night. But then again, you also thought you saw one of his paintings of a balloon flying away too so maybe he might be telling the truth. It’s a little hard to discern what were your actions that actually happened versus what was in your mind. Much like the wings you thought he sprouted when the two of you had sex.

“Can you just show me yours? I fell asleep before I could see what you made.” He hands you his own canvas and you stare hard at it, looking back and forth between him and the painting in your hands. “Did you make another one last night?”

“Nope, I used that one canvas the entire night.”

“Didn’t you start off painting it with yellow and red? How did you end up with,” you turn the painting around to show him, “painting this?”

Delicate pinks and purples dotted just right to look like wisteria flowers and a big tree trunk in the very center of it. It just wasn’t fair that he was so good at conceptualizing these kinds of things. You have to wonder if he just had a natural talent for it or if it was something he honed over time. Either way, you know he didn’t get that art degree for nothing.

Keigo chuckles and sets aside his painting. “I looked at your sweater last night and thought I saw wisteria flowers sprouting out, I got my inspiration from you. Also you seemed really into the color purple last night so that helped too. Although you did also give me an idea last night too.” he takes your hand in his, pulling you close to him and reaches one hand underneath your shirt, his palm resting on the small of your back. “That whole ‘paint me thing’ you said yesterday... I was wondering if one day you’d let me paint on you?”

You tilt your head to the side, “What do you mean?”

“Like... just let me paint on your body one day. I can get those body friendly paints and just make a picture on you.” Keigo explains with a sheepish smile coming onto his face despite how tired he looks. “It kinda turned on me on last night when you said you wanted me to paint you inside and I just thought ‘well what if I actually did?’ But not with my cum I mean, though I wouldn’t mind that either.“

The thought of laying down for Keigo while he does such a thing, it sounds quite intimate. You look into his eyes, his pupils still a little wide but it’s only a few more hours for the acid to exit your bodies. It was intense last night but you were glad to have done it with Keigo and even though you think the art you did last night is sort of crap now, you can’t deny that it was sort of fun to do it still.

Your paintings lay to the side, his own stupidly good wisteria painting sitting alongside your glittered starry night and sunset painting. Strange how your eyes perceived everything last night from elongated lengths, the dynamically changing colors you saw when you shut your eyes, you felt everything alive around rather than thinking of the furniture as mere static objects, the red wings and feather you swore you felt against your skin when Keigo fucked his cock into you, everything was beautiful and you couldn’t have asked for a better first time.

You’d like to do it again.

“Can I dove? Can I paint on you one day?”

“... Yeah, I’d like that.”

#takami keigo x reader #takami x reader #hawks x reader #bnha x reader #hawks smut #tw drugs

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werenotadulting · 3 years ago

Text

Routine Procedure - Finale

Author's note - Hope you enjoyed!

Part 7 - Kate

If you'd asked her, Kate wouldn't have been able to tell what exactly had gotten her interested in it.

Maybe it was the idea of the power dynamic. She had always been one of those girls labeled as 'bossy' growing up, which was a misogynistic way of saying that she wasn't afraid to speak up and speak her mind.

Or maybe it was the subversion of expectations of a traditional relationship that did it for her. The idea that she was the one in control, the one making all the decisions.

Maybe it was the fact that it was so taboo and kinky that appealed to her. It didnt really matter, whatever the reason.

Kate was into being a Mommy Domme, and Kate found nothing hotter than having a diapered little bitch boy to call her own.

The ultimate fantasy was teaching the boy to love and trust his diapers. Make him associate orgasming with wet diapers and diaper changes. Create a leaking "accident" in public so he learns that while thicker diapers might increase the risk of being noticed, they save you from the embarrassment of wet pants.

Of course, she had considered bringing up her desires to Mike, but based off of past experiences, she didn't want to chance it. Mike was just too perfect of a guy to risk blowing it like that.

She had always been the dominant one in bed, with Mike eagerly submitting to her every whim, so she knew they were sexually compatible. It had never gone past light bondage though, and Kate was starting to get an itch that handcuffs and blindfolds just wouldn't scratch.

────────

It had come up entirely by chance, one day while she was scrolling through an obscure ABDL forum.

The post read: "Biomedical engineer here, and I think I've figured out a way to induce instant, semi-permanent incontinence."

The post was over 3 days old, and only had two comments on it. The first was from a mod, basically saying to take everyone's posts with a grain of salt. The second was from the OP, about 24 hours after the original post.

"I know it sounds like a fantasy, but I'm pretty confident it will work. I've had a career in medical devices for the last 8 years, specializing in the urology space. I don't want to get too deep into the details on here, so just PM me of you're interested."

Kate rolled her eyes.

Everyone in this community is so hooked on the 'I want to be instantly incontinent' thing, and all it ever ends up being is some silly fap content, she thought to herself.

"You know what, let's feed the troll and see what bites," she muttered.

Liv2DomU: ok spill, what's your magical method?

PrinceOfPadding: this for you, or someone else?

Liv: hypothetically, let's say it's for a boyfriend

Prince: Ahh okay. Very interesting. Well, like I said, I've worked in med device for awhile, and I've recently started my own company. I primarily work in the urology space, catheters, scopes, that kind of stuff.

Liv: hmm hate to break it to u bud, but catheters kinda already exist

Prince: oh sure, catheters exist, but my idea is to bridge the catheter world with the stent world

Liv: sounds idk...sketchy? illegal?

As she read more, Kate was beginning to think that this guy might not be as full of crap as she had initially thought. He had his own start-up, which had already launched a Foley catheter to the market. It was all above-board and legit.

Prince: so, for the aspiring incontinent-person-to-be, the ring is positioned with a catheter, and stays in place once the Foley is removed. Then overtime, probably a month at minimum, depending on the chemical makeup and customer desire, the ring breaks down and is naturally absorbed into the body. And they all sign a consent form saying they accept the risks of such a procedure.

Liv: so then once it's dissolved they are back to being being able to control their bladder?

Prince: that's the theory, yes

Liv: theory?

Prince: well, dissolvable stent technology present state takes like 18 months to break down, and the manufacturing of it is patented and kept under lock and key

Liv: so basically all you have to offer is a catheter lol

Prince: well no. I've got some good leads on dissolvable compounds, but I've got to do trials of the rings first to see if it would even work. I've promised free diapers for the first few months if people sign up, but it's been hard to get subjects

Liv: so these trial rings wouldn't dissolve?

Prince: nope

Liv: meaning my hypothetical boyfriend would be....?

Prince: permanently diaper dependent, yeah

────────

In the end Kate was curious enough that she was willing to hear the guy out.

He'd asked for a mailing address and her phone number. The first was to send proof that his company was real, and the second was just to keep in contact should she decide to proceed.

It all made sense, at least in theory. Foley catheters were safe, provided they were inserted by a trained healthcare professional. A normal person would get a normal catheter just like everyone else. But an ABDL would be signing up for what was essentially an intentionally faulty catheter.

Assuming they knew they were willingly signing up for it.

When asked about 'accidental' ring implants, Prince had basically said, hey, people really need to learn to read the fine print.

────────

I walked out to the mailbox. I've been expecting test results back from the scan I'd had a few weeks back. Opening up the box, I noticed a large envelope with my hospital's address on the front.

About time, I thought, grabbing the envelope and the rest of the mail.

I walked back into the house, where Kate was making herself a cup of tea.

"Anything good in the mail?" she asked, taking a sip from her mug.

I listed them aloud as I started to flip though the mail, "Looks like some junk mail, an internet bill, a brochure for some UroVention medical thing, and last but not least, my test results."

I dropped the rest of the mail on the counter and started to open up my scan results. As I was reading, Kate walked over and began sorting through the other mail.

"Oh good, they said it's benign, but they're still worried about the location. They're recommending removal, just to be on the safe side."

"Removal for something benign? That sounds odd, but whatever," Kate said, tucking something into her back pocket.

"I'm not too worried. It sounds like it should be a pretty routine procedure."

────────

Part 8 - Mike

I sat down on the couch, my diaper squishing underneath me. Kate had taken to putting two stuffers in my diaper, even though these Tykables could already hold a lot. The warm, comforting feeling of my wet diaper started to turn me on, just like it did every time I realized how wet I was or if I was about to get a change. Not that I could do anything about it, though.

I flipped open the laptop and signed in. It would probably be a good hour before Kate got back from the store. Apparently I was being downgraded from sippy cups to bottles.

Once logged in, I noticed that the screen was still up to the site where Kate had last been. It was another diaper order, this time a case of Megamaxes. I felt my cheeks start to heat up, seeing that Kate had chosen the pink color for the whole case.

I opened up a private window, and navigated to KinkLink. My profile on here was pretty bare. It always had been, just containing my age, gender, and some basic interests. I hadn't even bothered to post a picture when I set it up. I preferred to look at other people's profiles rather than post things of my own.

I was always intrigued by people's locations and how close they were to where I lived. One such person who I came back to check the posts of daily was a mommy domme, who it happened lived in my town. Her first posts, from nearly three years ago, were what had first caught my attention.

'Every night I dream about finding my perfect diaper slut. He will wake up to me rubbing his thick, soggy padding, the little bedwetter that I turned him into.'

'Picture this: You, in a wet diaper and nothing else. Me, in my black lingerie with a strap on. Do I have any volunteers?'

'Have no doubt, if you date me, it's diapers forever. There's no "only at home" or "but my parents are coming over". Maybe I'll just find a way to make you incontinent. Then you won't have an excuse.'

And then there were the pictures. She never would show her face, but she didn't need to.. She wasn't lying about the black lingerie. It left very little to the imagination. Then the next picture, where the bra came off, and she was just in her lacy panties, her pierced nipples and tattoos on display. Maybe it was the octopus tattoo on her arm, my favorite animal, that made her stick out to me.

But there was one post that I always came back to and was entranced by. It was a picture of her holding an ABU Kiddo, right below her breasts. She wasn't wearing any clothing.

'Aww baby, did you wet the bed? I think we should probably put you in some protection.'

────────

I stood in line at the coffee shop. It wasn't too busy for a Tuesday at 9 a.m., only two people were ahead of me. As the first person in line got her coffee and the second lady stepped up to place her order, I checked my phone. Still a half hour before I needed to be at work, I had some time to sit and enjoy my drink. I got my usual and went off to a booth in the corner.

"Excuse me, but do you happen to know what the Wi-Fi password is here?"

I looked up to see the woman who had been in front of me in line.

"Oh um, yeah it's....oh I think they just changed it. Try 'PINTO'. They always pick some sort of bean, I think they find it amusing, but it's never a coffee bean..." I trailed off.

She smiled, "Oh thank you so much, yeah I'll try that."

My mouth fell open is shock.

"I uhhh...I like your tattoo," I said. "They're my, um, favorite animal."

"Oh mine too! Isn't the octopus, like, the coolest animal?"

"D-definitely. Hey, would you like to sit with me? I'm just hanging out while I wait for work. My name is Mike by the way."

"That sounds really nice. Thank you, Mike. I'm Kate."

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gubler-me-up · 4 years ago

Text

Missing in Action

Request: Can you write a fanfic where Hotch's daughter gets kidnapped and Hotch and his team have to find her?

A/N: Thanks for the request, anon! This is my first Hotch request and I usually don’t write for Hotch but everyone needs a lil challenge here and there right? I’ve decided to make this a two parter because I love suspense and since they asked for a fanfiction imma give them a fanfiction. Hey, it might even be three parts who knows? Hopefully y’all enjoy it, I’ve watched a lot of The FBI Files lately so I’m adding a ~sprinkle~ of that in here as well. I was very nervous while writing this but hopefully it’s decent 😬 p.s. I put y/n still so you can insert yourself as Hotch’s daughter if you’d like or create a name whatever floats your boat

Category: Angst

Content warning: Kidnapping, mention of violence, crime scene, blood

Word count: 2.5k

————-

Hotch packed up his briefcase for the day. He had promised his daughter he would pick her up from soccer practice. He had also promised her and Jack they would go out for dinner since they hadn’t done so in months. He had instructed Jack to meet his older sister at the soccer field after his school book club meeting was over.

He looked at the time on his watch and saw it was quarter to six. The two of them were probably already ridiculing him because of his tardiness. He checked his phone to see if she had texted him complaining yet. There was no notification which caused him to raise an eyebrow. Y/N was usually very vocal about her dad being late when he was the one always telling them about being punctual.

To his surprise his phone started to ring. For an instant, he thought it could have been Y/N calling him but the caller ID said Unknown Caller. He hesitantly answered it, anxious to know who would be on the other line. Before he could even greet the other person on the line, he heard Jack’s voice yelling in a panic.

“Jack, buddy, slow down. What do you mean your sister was taken?” Hotch asked.

The next few words Jack told him sounded unreal to him. His mind couldn’t process even the slightest possibility of Jack’s story to be true. Jack had seen a black car pull up at the corner of the sidewalk where his sister was standing waiting for him. He was just a block away when he saw a man jump out of the backseat and grab Y/N. He shoved her in the back and then the driver sped off.

“Jack, where are you right now? You’re at school? Okay, stay there for now. The police are at the scene right now? Okay, okay, I’ll be there soon. Bye.”

He hung up the phone and for once didn’t know where to begin. His mind was racing in overtime trying to think of who it possibly could be, if Y/N was okay and how long he had to find her. He ran out of his office to go towards the bullpen. He watched as everyone stared at him in confusion as he tried to form the right words to tell them.

Everyone had already packed up for the day and were almost on their way out by the time Hotch came to them. The look on his face was one they hadn’t seen since Haley’s death. They anticipated the worst to words to leave Hotch’s mouth.

“Y/N was kidnapped. We have to act now.”

Every single team member’s face filled with dread as they realized how little time they had to find Y/N safe. With no other words exchanged between anyone they made their way to the briefing room. Hotch let everyone walk in front of him as he still tried his best to comprehend the whole situation.

He felt someone gently touch his shoulder. He turned around to see Rossi looking at him with his famous look of determination. It was visible to him Hotch was in a place of discouragement that he had to break out of if he wanted to get his daughter.

“We’ll find her, Aaron,” Rossi said.

“We realistically only have two and a half hours before the possibility of finding her alive becomes slim. We have to make a move on these sons of bitches now,” Hotch said.

Rossi nodded. “Let’s do it.”

They made their way into the briefing room as soon as Garcia pulled up phone records from Y/N phone. Hotch sat down as he analyzed the screen in silence, checking every phone number to see if there was one out of place. His eyebrow raised as he saw a number he didn’t recognize and it only showed up once in her call log. She had ignored the call and according to the time the call was made she was taken about five minutes after.

“Garcia, can you check if the last number on her call log is anywhere else in her call or text history?” Hotch asked.

“Of course, sir,” she said before searching for the number.

She pulled up a text message sent to Y/N. It was an attachment. It was sent recently which confused everyone considering they already had her in their grips. Garcia went ahead and opened the attachment to reveal the picture. It was a letter addressed to Hotch.

Aaron Hotchner,

Expect a call from us around 7 p.m. You have my word your daughter will be safe until then. It’s up to you to agree or disagree with our demands which will ultimately determine her fate.

“Garcia, can you trace the number?” Hotch asked.

“It’s a burner number from an app. It’s out of service now, but I will trace Y/N’s location on her phone,” she said.

“We have about half an hour to go over possible suspects who could be responsible for this,” Morgan said.

“It seems personal, so it’s more than likely that Hotch and the perpetrator have come into contact. It seems especially personal since they want to call Hotch to tell him what they want from him instead of detailing it in the ransom letter,” Reid said.

“It seems whoever wrote the letter is the leader since he says ‘we’ and ‘our’ but only says ‘my’ when referring to keeping his word of keeping Y/N safe,” JJ said.

“Jack said there were two men who had abducted her but it’s less than likely the leader of the group would be one of the two doing the kidnapping. For now, we know there are three suspects but there could be more. Morgan, Prentiss and Reid will go to the kidnapping scene while the rest of us wait here for the call to come. Please bring Jack here when you’re done at the scene. He’s at school waiting to be picked up,” Hotch ordered.

Morgan, Reid and Prentiss nodded as they got up from their seats. They left the room in urgency as the time was slowly ticking away on Y/N. Hotch didn’t take his eyes off the screen as Garcia did her best to search for the phone. JJ and Rossi looked at him as they tried to remain calm for him. They knew as soon as Hotch found out he had his daughter it would send him over the edge. They wanted to avoid a possible repeat of the Foyet situation.

A map popped up on the screen with a red dot pinging on the location of Y/N’s phone. It was pinging in a lake not too far from the area Y/N. was last seen. Garcia touched her throat as she felt it run dry as she thought of the worst. She looked over to Hotch who was already looking in her direction. He looked calm and collected enough for the whole room.

“Don’t worry, Garcia. She’s still alive, they just dumped her phone, so we can’t trace them. Don’t give in to their fear tactics,” Hotch said.

Garcia took a jagged breath. “Of course, sir.”

“JJ, call Prentiss to inform them to go by the lake just off highway 66. Let’s pull up the street footage to see if the camera’s caught the getaway car.”

————

“Agents.”

Morgan, Reid and Prentiss looked over at where the voice had come from. They saw detective Broderick of the Arlington police department walking towards them. Morgan and Prentiss held their hands out to greet him with a handshake while Reid waved. He walked them over to the area where Y/N was taken from.

The area was riddled with pylons to identify every piece of evidence. They saw there was a trail of shattered glass on the road. Morgan went over to look at the pieces. He took out a pair of latex gloves from his pocket to put on. He picked up a shard to examine it.

“We sent samples of the glass to the FBI forensics lab in D.C., so hopefully we can determine the make of the car that way,” detective Broderick said.

“Our tech analyst is looking through street camera footage to see if the car was caught driving through this area. Y/N must have kicked out the backseat window, so someone could see her. Dangerous move, but helpful,” Morgan said.

“We should also get some of your officers down to the lake off highway 66. Y/N’s phone’s there but there could be other evidence there as well,” Prentiss instructed.

“You got it. You think they’re going towards the D.C. area? Should I send units out that way?” He asked.

“Not exactly. They could have just dumped her phone there and other items to throw us off. They’re most likely still in state because they still have to call Hotch. Whatever exchange that needs to take place has to take place nearby,” Reid said.

“Makes sense. I’ll send some cops down to that area for you.”

As detective Broderick radioed in for police officers to the location of where Y/N’s phone was, Reid noticed something on a piece of glass. He took out his latex gloves to put on before crouching next to the shard. He picked it up and saw what appeared to be blood. Then he noticed another shard with more of the red substance on it.

He called over an officer to give him an evidence collection bag. The officer handed over a bag to him. Spencer put both shards into the bag. As he tried to look for any more shards on the ground that could potentially be evidence, he saw Prentiss walk into his sight. She crouched down close to him but she looked at a completely different area of glass shards.

“I think that might be a partial print,” she said.

“Where?” Reid asked.

She pointed at a shard in front of her. She carefully picked it up to show Reid in the reflection of the dim sunlight a possible partial print. Reid nodded his head in agreement to the fact that it could be a partial print.

“Let’s get this to the lab along with the other shards in this specific area. Maybe we can find another shard with the rest of the fingerprint or even a palm print somewhere.”

———

Hotch, JJ, Rossi and Garcia waited around the round table for the call to come through. They were informed of the evidence being processed at the FBI forensics lab in D.C. for clear identification. They had also been informed that the area where Y/N’s phone was found also had her soccer bag tossed into the river as well. They were still actively combing the area for any further evidence.

Garcia managed to identify the car as a black 2002 Mercedes Benz C Class sedan. The license plates weren’t visible on camera due to the angles they were taken. She didn’t have any success finding that type of car registered to anyone in the Arlington area who had been near the abduction site.

All the information Hotch was receiving was sticking in his mind and he continuously thought of who could be behind his daughter’s kidnapping. He would have honestly rather they have shot him and spare her of any trauma. He swore he would never let anyone harm his family again and it seemed as if no matter what he did nothing protected his family from the demons of his job.

The clock struck 7 p.m. and his eyes darted to his phone on the table. Everyone else’s eyes also followed his gaze. They were anxiously waiting for the call too. They wanted to find Y/N in one piece just as much Hotch did but they couldn’t even fathom the agony he was in being helpless in this situation. His daughter’s fate laid in one phone call.

JJ jerked in her seat as she felt her phone vibrate. Her anxiety towards the situation was heavy for her that it almost felt as if she was in his seat. Her heart still pounded as she looked at her phone even though she knew it was probably only a text from Prentiss updating her about the situation. Which she was correct about but her heart still pounded and her hands still shook from the sudden vibration of her phone.

“They found a tire track, so they’re going to run that by the lab as well,” she said.

Hotch’s phone rang. The sound of everybody in the room taking a deep breath was the only sound next to Garcia typing away as she got ready to track the call. Hotch calmly picked up the phone even as the burning rage inside of him tried its best to come out. He had to resist any hostility during the call at all cost.

“Hotchner,” Hotch said.

“Aaron Hotchner. Glad you picked up,” the distorted voice said.

“What do you want for the safe return of my daughter?” He asked.

“Is this the same guy who doesn’t make deal with people like me? Isn’t that what you said when George Foyet wanted to cut a deal with you? Why the sudden change in song?” The voice asked.

“And look how that turned out,” he said.

“I wouldn’t harm your daughter but if you try to find me as I know your team already is I’ll have no choice to.”

“Tell me what you want and we’ll stop hunting you.”

“Do you promise?”

“Yes.”

“I need $500,000 dropped off at 3600 17th street north by 9 p.m. and your daughter will be returned safely to you. She will be in the forest nearby waiting for you. If you deviate from this plan I will not hesitate to inform my partner to shoot her. Are we clear, Aaron?”

“Yes.”

“Do you not want to hear your daughter? It’s chilling knowing you don’t want to know for sure if she’s alive or not.”

“I know she’s alive. You can’t fool me with your fake confidence. You and I know you’re going to keep me playing this count and mouse game until 9 p.m. when you realize you messed with the wrong person.”

“Charming, Aaron. We’ll chat later.”

They hung up without another word exchanged. Hotch looked over at Garcia but she slowly shook her head in defeat with tears gradually forming in her eyes. She wasn’t able to ping a signal to the call.

“I think they’re blocking the signal because I can’t find a tower they’re boun-”

“That’s okay. I have a feeling I know who it is,” Hotch said.

Everyone raised a curious eyebrow to what Hotch had revealed. Though the conversation was short and mainly to the point, Hotch had listened out for a few key aspects. The most telling aspect he noticed made him confident in knowing who it was.

“You know them?” JJ asked.

“Yes. I know from the way they said, “charming, Aaron,” Hotch explained.

“Okay, so who’s the guy?” Rossi asked.

“It’s not a guy. It’s a woman.”

—–

MASTERLIST

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mymelodyheart · 4 years ago

Text

Miles Between Us Chapter 11 ~Suspicious Minds~

Picture Edit by melodyheart

Previously in The Art of Non-Communication ...

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

The brothers looked at each other and shrugged.

When Ian stalled, Willie blew out an impatient breath.

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

Ian grinned. "Yer pal Christie."

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

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

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

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

If you wish to read this on AO3, here is the link.

If you wish to read this from the beginning:

AO3 link

Tumblr link

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

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

"Hey."

Claire snapped out of her reverie. "Huh?"

"I asked if ye're hungry."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Boyfriend problem?" he asked slowly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Just like that?"

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

"Of course."

"So it's settled."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Claire, are you still there?"

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

"Well?"

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

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

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

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

"Problems?"

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

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

"Tom, you don't have to."

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

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

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

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

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

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

...........

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I said, turn the bloody volume up!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What?" Jamie wheezed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Ye're going back to London?"

"No!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Jamie, kiss me, goodbye?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

They shared a wicked glance and then laughed out loud.

Dear Readers,

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

78 notes · View notes

izumi-fanclub · 3 years ago

Text

A3! Translation: Tsuzuru SSR Card “Everyone From the Minagi Family” [ Midnight cramming ]

Real wholesome brotherly love from all sides.

Izumi

Umm, tomorrow’s schedule...

…... Hm? Did something fall?

(Is this... a family photo of the Minagis? Tsuzuru must’ve lost it here)

(Tszuru-kun, let’s see if you’re in your room right now...... huh?)

Tsuzuru

…....

Izumi

(Looks like he’s working on something. He’s really concentrated... I wonder if it’s okay to call out to him right now.)

(But then again, I’m just gonna give him his photo back.)

Tsuzuru-kun.

Tsuzuru

Director, is something up?

Izumi

Sorry for the interruption.

But Tsuzuru-kun, this photo is yours, isn’t it?

Tsuzuru

Hm? …...Ah, it is!

Izumi

It fell back over there.

Tsuzuru

Ugh, I’m sorry. I had no idea when I dropped it.

Thank you so much.

Izumi

It’s a nice photo.

Tsuzuru

Kaoru came to my part-time job today. That’s when he handed it over to me.

He also wanted me to tell you he said hello.

Izumi

I’m glad that Kaoru-kun seems to be doing well.

Come to think of it, how are Tadoru-san and Meguru-san?

Tsuzuru

My brother’s coming back from overseas at the end of this month, and I’m planing to stop by my parents’ house by then.

Well, I’m really not sure if I’ll be able to go, though......

Izumi

Why not?

Tsuzuru

Actually...

*flashback*

Tsuzuru

Thanks, Kaoru.

Kaoru

Yeah, sorry for dropping by out of the blue.

Tsuzuru

Well, I didn’t expect you to go all the way to my part-time job, Kaoru.

Kaoru

I just happened to pass by and I wanted to see my big brother working.

Tell your director I said hi.

Tsuzuru

Sure thing.

Kaoru

Oh yeah that’s right, I was gonna give you this.

Tsuzuru

Part 2

Kaoru

It’s the picture I took of you back at our parents’ house, I went ahead and printed it out.

Tsuzuru

Heh... these days I just take pics with my phone and leave them as it is, but it’s nice to have printed pictures like this.

Kaoru

Right?

I think the next time big brother’s coming back home is by the end of this month.

Tsuzuru

Aah... I was just about to ask about that.

Kaoru

Big bro said he’s coming to visit our parents’ home by then.

Tsuzuru

The end of this month... the deadlines of my university assignments and part-time job overlap......

Kaoru

Sounds rough.

Don’t push yourself if you’re that busy.

Tsuzuru

Yeah. But I’ll try to go home as soon as I can. I wanna see you guys too.

Kaoru

The last photo didn’t have Tadoru-niichan and Meguru-niichan in it, so I hope we can all take a pic together.

Tsuzuru

I know that’s right.

*end of flashback*

Tsuzuru

…... So that’s why,

I don’t think I might be able to go head to my parents’ house......

But I still want to show up as soon as I can, so I’m working on this as early as now.

Izumi

I see.

[ Option 1: Don’t push yourself too hard or you’ll collapse ]

Izumi

Don’t force yourself to the point of collapsing like you do with the scripts.

Tuzuru-kun when you concentrate, you get so absorbed in your work that you forget to eat or sleep.

Tsuzuru

… I’ll be fine.

Nothing to worry about if I do collapse.

Besides, reports aside, writing is something I like to do.

[ Option 2: Tsuzuru-kun sure is a family man ]

Izumi

Tsuzuru-kun you’re quite the family man.

Tsuzuru

Sometimes when I’m at home, there were times when I had thoughts of wanting to be alone......

Living apart from them like this, it gets you missing their faces.

Izumi

Tsuzuru-kun's home sounds like it’s very lively.

Tsuzuru

Well, MANKAI dorms isn’t too different. Both are very important places for me.

Tsuzuru

I want to continue writing more good stories as the playwright for MANKAI Company.

Izumi

Fufuu, I’m looking forward to it.

Izumi

It’s Massaman curry for tonight!

Chikage

I’m liking the scent of cardamom and coriander.

Izumi

I had good spices on hand, so I made it.

Citron

I can smell the oriental scent in the air~. It stimulates my appetite!

Masumi

The curry you make is the best in the world...

Sakuya

What kind of curry is Massaman curry?

Izumi

It’s curry made with chicken, potatoes, onions, peanuts, and other ingredients simmered in coconut milk with spices.

Sakuya

It’s so unique to have peanuts in it! I can’t wait to see what it tastes like.

Izumi

There’s a lot of it, so have another one!

Masumi

I’ll eat the whole pot......

Izumi

Don’t eat the pot, it’s okay.

Chikage

There’s a lot of spices that work well together, and the ingredients are simmered tenderly.

Itaru

Senpai, you’re like a nagging food critic.

Chikage

The “nagging” part was unnecessary.

Sakuya

Director, it’s really delicious!

Citron

I feel like I have travelled to another country~!

Izumi

Fufuu, I’m glad you’re happy.

Tsuzuru

Yawn.......

Citron

It is the great yawn~!

Izumi

Tsuzuru-kun, are you sleep-deprived?

Itaru

Maybe Tsuzuru’s pulling all-nighter event rounds?

Tsuzuru

Itaru-san please don’t go lumping me in with you.

I’m working on the report I told you about.

Chikage

University assignments?

Tsuzuru Yeah. I have a lot of research to do and it’s not looking good for me right now......

Masumi

You stayed up late yesterday.

Izumi

Really?

Sakuya

Tsuzuru-kun, are you okay?

Tsuzuru

Hmm, I have a lot of part-time jobs to do, so my progress isn’t that good......

It looks like I’m gonna have to concentrate on finishing this soon, or I won’t be able to go to my parents’ house...... I’ll do the best I can somehow.

Thanks for the meal.

I’ll be heading to my room, then.

Izumi

Tsuzuru-kun, I hope he doesn’t overexert himself......

Sakuya

He had such a tired look on his face.

Chikage

He’s the type of guy who’ll soldier on through his fatigue.

Citron

If he collapses, he will be given kancho! *

Izumi

Given care.

Itaru

If you did that to Tsuzuru your HP would be KO’d straight to 0 on the spot.

Sakuya

I hope his assignments go well.

Izumi

Same here...

Masumi

…...

Part 3

Masumi

Zzz, zzz.......

Tsuzuru

Yawn......

…... It’s not done yet.

(My shoulders feel stiff and my eyes hurt...)

I’m tired...

I-it's already this late?

Yawn......

(…... I should nap for a bit.)

….......... *snore*.

Masumi

…...

Tsuzuru

Hnn...

(Oh man, I think I overslept...)

Hm? A blanket?

(And even jelly drinks......)

(I knew it, someone wouldn’t come into my room at this time of the night.)

(So that leaves......)

Masumi

Zzz, zzz......

Tsuzuru

…... Thanks, Masumi.

‘kay, I’ll do my best in the spur of the moment then.

Izumi

Oh, morning Tsuzuru-kun.

Tsuzuru

Good morning.

Izumi

Do you think you can handle your assignments?

Tsuzuru

I think I can make it.

Izumi

I see. I guess you can go back to your parents’ house then.

Tsuzuru

I’m glad that I can just adjust my part-time job shifts.

Other than, there’s also this...... I got support from Masumi.

Izumi

Jelly drinks...? A gift from Masumi-kun?

Tsuzuru

I guess so.

It was on my desk while I was taking a nap.

Izumi

It’s so like Masumi-kun to not hand it face to face.

Tsuzuru

Right?

And to think that the same Masumi who went through all that when he first came to the troupe would show his support like this.

Izumi

…... That’s right.

I think you two get a long really well.

Tsuzuru

Well, he’s like a cute little brother now, just like Sakuya.

Masumi

…... Tsuzuru, you’re too close to director.

Tsuzuru

Ah, Masumi.

Izumi

Masumi-kun, morning.

Masumi

Morning. Director, you look really cute this morning.

Izumi

Hahaha... Masumi-kun you look good too.

Tsuzuru

Oh right, Masumi.

Masumi

…... What.

Tsuzuru

You left this there for me, didn’t you?

Thanks to you, I’ll be able to finish my assignment.

Masumi

…... Director was worried.

Tsuzuru

Thanks.

Masumi

…... Annoying. If I’m gonna have someone stroke my head, I’d rather it be director.

Tsuzuru

Yeah, yeah.

Masumi

…... I already told you to stop. I’m not some dog.

Tsuzuru

It’s fine.

Masumi

It’s not.

Izumi

(Those two really smile like two brothers.)

Story Clear!

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

Kancho in Japan is basically where you form a handgun with your two hands and stick your fingers up someone’s ass to shock them as a prank

#tsuzuru so relatable #this was so cute #a3 translation #a3 card translation #a3! translation #A3! Card translation #tsuzuru minagi #minagi tsuzuru #sakuya sakuma #sakuma sakuya #masumi usui #usui masumi #itaru chigasaki #chigasaki itaru #citron #chikage utsuki #utsuki chikage

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royallyprincesslilly · 4 years ago

Text

Title: Hibiscus Kisses {1}

Chris Evans x OFC Ajali Rambaue AU {Ah-Jah-Lee, Ram-Bow}

Warning: Plot Heavy, Cursing,

Words: 6.1k

Summary: Ajali decides on a rash decision to go on a Disney cruise, not for her love of Disney, but because she needs time to figure things out after things get even more complicated in her complicated life. She only expected peace, quiet, tropical drinks, and an overabundance of Disney songs. What she got was more than she bargained for when the cruise of a lifetime on the brand new ship Enchantment turned into a nightmare. The only saving grace is that she’s not the only one living through the nightmare. Can Ajali survive the test of a lifetime and the dangers ahead of her, and better yet, will she finally be able to live a little?

Note: Hey, hey, hey, guys! So here we are trying something different/new. I hope you enjoy this. 🤞🏽 Please feel free to tell me what you think. I’m super excited to explore this one with you all. 🤗 Also, what do you guys think of the title? What does it make you think of?

As always, thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed this, please LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG! ❤️❤️

I appreciate each and every one of your guys’ support and love!

***Loosely Edited/Proofread***

**Very Interactive**

***French Language Incorporated w/translations according to Google***

“Yes, mom, I packed my charger and my vitamins. Oh my god, of course, I have my scarf. Mom!”

Your mother continued to press you about things any woman would never forget packing. This was how she was normally. Almost morning, she would make her routine calls. First to your sister Atali, then to you. When she made it to you, she’d ask if you ate, and of course, by the time she called you, you were usually at work or on your way to it, and you wouldn’t have eaten. Then she’d ask you why you hadn’t eaten, to which she’d go back and forth with you about the importance of eating a well-balanced meal. Somehow that would lead to her asking how you expected to find the one when you didn’t eat enough. It was a never-ending thing with her. She was obsessed with you and your sister finding the one.

You understood. Your parents had been married for well over two decades, and they were still disgustingly in love. There was also no one like your dad, so you understood. They both saw what a catch they both were. After she told you the story of how she finessed your dad and got married in record time, it always turned into focus on you finding someone to marry. No matter how many times you told her that even though marriage was great and all, you weren’t in any hurry, it never registered.

“Mom, I have everything I need. It is just supposed to be a two-week cruise.”

“You’d be surprised the things you realize you left once you’re at sea. Then it will be too late,” Cynthia, your mother warned.

“Then I’ll just buy it. Mom, I’m not going to the middle of nowhere. I am going on a huge ship from one of the world’s most reputable companies. I am positive they have every possible thing I could want to buy onboard. Plus, when we dock at ports, I’ll be able to buy much more.”

“You’re always buying. Gah, I blame your father. He spoiled you and your sister rotten.”

“I am not spoiled. It’s not like I haven’t worked for my money. Yes, daddy helped me set up my company, but I got where I am today because of me,” you professed.

“I know, sweetheart, you don’t have to preach to the choir. All I’m saying is your daddy’s wealth only helped spoil you and Lali more. I saw it in you at the playground the most. You always wanted what the other kids were playing with. If it was a ball, you tried to take it. If it were the swings, you’d overtake it, toys in the sandbox my goodness those kids would end up with sand in their eyes and you alone with the toys.”

“Some would call that persistence, hardworking, and assertive.”

Your mother laughed then tsked.

“I’m surprised that when you were in high school, I never got a call about you getting into a fight because you stole some girl’s boyfriend.”

You pursed your lips, but as you were going to open your mouth to respond, your phone vibrated, signaling a notification.

“Hang on, mom.”

You thanked the Lyft driver for helping with your bags then checked your phone.

MSG Javii: I’ve been calling you all night. Come on, Chaton (kitten). You have to talk to me at some point. Tu me manques (I miss you).

You sighed and rolled your eyes. He had some nerve, you thought.

“Ajali, hello!”

“Yes, mom, I’m here. Sorry. I was getting my bags together.”

“So, you’re really doing this?”

“Yes, mom. Why wouldn’t I?”

“Who goes on a cruise alone? What about the man I heard in the background of our call a few weeks ago? Why not go with him?”

You rolled your eyes again, thinking about that man in the background a few weeks ago who was on your shit list.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. It was the tv,” you lied.

“Ajali--,” your mother began before you cut her off.

“—Plus, mom, it’s a Disney cruise,” you stressed.

“Exactly. The people who go on Disney cruises are families, wives, husbands, kids. You are neither of them and have nether of them.”

You balanced your phone on your shoulder and rolled your luggage toward the designated pier.

“I just need some time to myself to clear my head and destress. Two weeks.”

“Ignore your mother, my petal. You take the time you need. I’ve told you, and your sister working is important, but living is just as important. You don’t live to work; you work to live,” your father said.

“Thank you, daddy.”

“Plus, maybe you will find a worthy man on this cruise while you’re living,” your father slid in.

“Oh god, not you too, daddy.”

“We are unified in this, Lulu. He may wear the pants, but I control the buttons and the zipper if you know what I mean.”

You tasted vomit in your mouth.

“Eck! That is disgusting, mother. On that note, I gotta go.”

“Wait, wait, enjoy yourself, my petal. We love you.”

“Love you too, daddy, love you, mom.”

With that, you ended the call and continued to walk toward Pier eighty-one. You passed families with rowdy children who looked like they couldn’t wait to get ice cream wasted, couples who looked as if they couldn’t wait to get to their suites and even elderly couples who were dressed to the nines for vacation, including already applied sunscreen and sunhats. Despite what your mother thought, Disney cruises were for everyone.

You’d purposely chosen Disney because you didn’t want to be around other couples who were loved up and nauseatingly adorable, spewing love in the air. You wanted to be as far from that as possible. Love was the last thing on your mind. You were going on this cruise to get away from it. Your phone vibrated and went off twice.

MSG Atali: Have you made your getaway yet?

You stopped rolling and went to reply.

MSG: Almost. I’m walking to the boarding line now.

MSG Atali: I think you’re doing the right thing. Space and time. In two weeks you’ll know what you want to do. I hope it’s what we talked about.

MSG: I know, Lali, I know.

MSG Atali: Have some fun too. It’s Disney.

You could picture her face as you read it. She was probably cheesing at this very minute.

MSG: Thank you for looking after the company while I’m gone.

MSG Atali: Boo, you know it’s my company too, right. Don’t worry; our clients will be taken care of. I’ve got it covered.

You knew she did. Atali was the older one and had always acted like it, even though she was only nine months older. You knew she could take care of things on her own while you were away.

MSG: I know, still. Thank you.

MSG Atali: You’re welcome, Lulu. Call me later. Margaret Bailey’s appointment is next. Apparently, she’s throwing some party, and she wants to be the envy of everyone.

MSG: Eck, you have your work cut out for you. Bye.

As you were putting your phone away, another message came in.

MSG Javii: Chaton (kitten), call me, please. Don’t you think you’re dragging this out a little?

You almost said, “are you stupid” out loud. The man had some nerve. Dragging it out? You rolled your eyes as another message came in.

MSG Javii: Je t’aime (I love you).

Just like that, you melted. He was playing on the fact that your father was French, and the language itself was a favorite of yours. He was not a stupid man; he was a smart businessman.

MSG Javii: I’m sorry. I know we’ve talked about it, but you have to give me more time. Please.

Unbelievable, you thought as you exited your messages and stuck your phone into your back pocket. You turned and ran smack dab into someone’s hard body.

“Shit. I’m so sorry,” you rushed out even as you were falling back.

A pair of strong arms grabbed you and firmly held you, preventing your fall.

“It’s okay, you’re lucky I don’t mind beautiful women bumping into me,” a deep masculine voice said. You knew it was a man, but you couldn’t see his face even though he looked to be well over six feet. His head was dipped low, and the hat he wore over hair that fell to his neck was so low you couldn’t see anything but the full beard that showed off a chiseled jawline.

He set you right side up and slowly brought his hands from your arms back to his side. “Stay safe out there,” he said before he walked off.

You stood there for a few moments, then looked back to where he’d walked and watched him saunter away. He had a slight dip to the way he walked that could either be seen as a happy go lucky type of thing or something that said he had some sort of swagger. Before you stared any longer, you sprang into motion with wheeling your luggage to the growing line to board the ship. Thankfully the line went quickly thanks to the ten different lanes that had ship staffers ready and eager to help guests.

When it was your turn, a friendly-looking woman with a trendy bob cut explained what to do. While she talked, her smile never fell, but you didn’t really pay attention because her uniform was so distracting. She had on a purple and green hat that had mermaid scales and Ariel printed all over it. This hat matched the shirt and skirt combo she wore. Her shirt was two-toned, on one side was Ariel’s face, and on the other was mermaid scales while her skirt was plain white. It looked like The Little Mermaid threw up all over her. You didn’t expect anything else; it was a Disney cruise after all.

After doing all the check-in steps, such as handing off your rolling luggage to the ship porters and taking a photo for your provided identification wrist band that the crew will use to identify you and your indicated needs, you boarded the ship. All the friendly faces you passed all looked happy to welcome you to Disney Cruises and to direct you to where you wanted to go. The noise inside was much louder inside than it was out. The kids that looked excited outside looked downright jubilant inside as they posed for pictures with life-sized Disney characters and got welcome ice cream treats.

You were even tempted to take a picture or two, but you decided against it. What you did not decide against was ice cream. You took an offered vanilla cone and kept on your way, looking around the ship as the other guests did. From your research, this was the best-rated cruise this year. It was a newer Disney ship and one that cost over ten million dollars to design and build. Everyone said it was the Rolls Royce of Disney cruises.

From what you saw with the décor looked to have cost a fortune. There was glass, fancy lights, and marble everywhere. It was clear they didn’t skimp on funding and clear that they had the comfort and luxury in mind. There were plants around the central atrium that gave off that tropical vacation vibe and even paintings and pictures hanging on the walls that further pushed the agenda that this was supposed to be a fun time for all.

The more you walked around looking at different areas, the more you were impressed. If the gathering areas looked this upscale, you were even more excited to see your suite.

“Can I help you with anything, ma’am?”

You shook your head and smiled at the man wearing Hans all over him. “I’m all right, thank you.”

The next thirty minutes or so were spent walking around while following the map in your hand. You found and noted where the spa, library, on-ship garden, movie theater, bowling alley, tropical setting wave pool, and best restaurants and bars were. You had every intention of soaking up all the luxury that you’d paid top dollar for. When you saw a few amenities that you hadn’t expected, your jaw dropped. You had no idea why there was an ice skating rink or an indoor sky flying dome that had the tallest clear tube you’d ever seen. You didn’t know who’d designed this cruise, but you knew it must have cost millions. You were sure you wouldn’t be getting in that sky flying dome.

When you finally got the alert that your suite was ready, it was well after one in the afternoon. The walk among the crowds was noisy. Everyone was either talking about what they wanted to do first, how enormous and beautiful the ship was, or making a plan for the cruise duration. In between all the chatter, there of course, were the screams and cries of babies and toddlers who were already losing their shit.

This is what you’d expected when you decided on this Disney cruise over another like Carnival or Norwegian. You knew that the other passengers would be of a specific age range leaning on the younger and family-oriented side, which meant you wouldn’t have to fight off unwanted suitors who tried to shoot their shot. It also meant that you wouldn’t have to deal with any sort of drama that usually happened on a cruise with young adults all looking to hook up. That was not what you needed right now. You wanted to stay as far away from hooking up or eligible men that had blue eyes or a perfect head of hair, or abs that were chiseled by Michelangelo himself, or an ass that would make a mannequin jealous.

On the elevator ride to your floor, you caught the eye of an adorable little boy with a complete head of luscious dark locks and doe eyes with an unmeasurable depth. His smile was innocent. Every time your eyes met his, he hid behind his mother. When you looked away, he looked back at you. After two or three playful back and forth glances, which had him becoming more adorable, you surprised him by not looking away. When he realized it, his squeal was so childlike and filled with so much glee that everyone on the elevator had to giggle. Over the next several minutes, the passengers on the elevator got off group by group until it was just a few people remaining.

“Sixth floor,” the elevator attendant announced.

You made your way through the door but gave the adorable boy a look. “Have a fun cruise, cutie,” you said with a wink before the doors closed with the sound of his giggles. You looked at your phone to remind yourself which room was yours, then glanced at the numbers on the wall that directed you where to go. The dinging sound of an elevator brought your attention down the hall to your right to see one man walk off. His hat was dipped down low, but you noticed his face was buried in his phone before he turned and walked in the opposite direction of you.

Focusing on the signs on the door, you walked down the left side of the aisle. It didn’t take you long to realize your room was at the end of the hall. Once you reached it, you glanced back to see the same man with his tipped low hat. It looked like the same man from before outside the ship. It couldn’t be, you thought. The odds were not that small. As you opened your door, you saw him disappear into the room at the opposite end of the hall.

Once you walked inside, you immediately thought that this was what you got when you had Atali handle the arrangements. The theme of the room was clearly sky blue. The couch in the living area was a satin, silky sky blue that looked as if it was plush and comfortable. It matched the blue and grain colored carpet before it perfectly, and the abstract blown glass art on the wall. The colors all worked together to give you a sense of peace. It wouldn't have been something you’d chosen because, unlike Atali, you liked to keep things as low maintenance as possible. Just because your family had money doesn’t mean you had to look or behave as if you did.

When you walked into the bedroom portion of the stateroom, you saw your suitcases waiting for you in the far left corner of the room. The sunlight pouring in from the screened balcony bathed the room in a beautiful, cheerful yellow that was so inviting that once you kicked off your shoes, you had to step out into it. The temperature was not blazing hot because it was just the middle of April in New York, and that meant a mix of chilly and warm days with the occasional possible snow shower. The salty air of the sea was one of your favorite smells. You remembered when your father took your family to France on your yearly family vacation. As a child, you loved the beach and the salt of the sea. When you became an adult, nothing had changed.

Not realizing how long you remained on the balcony, an intercom announcement came on.

“Attention passengers, this is Lucas Albright, one of your captains. It is with great pleasure that I welcome you aboard this Disney Enchantment Cruise.”

He paused, and you could hear the uproar of cheers and claps from over the intercom as well as in the halls and neighboring staterooms.

“We are all excited to host you on this two and a half week christening journey from New York. I say christening because you lot are the first to travel on this brand new ship. This is her maiden voyage.”

More cheers and applause came for what felt like forever.

“We will be on this beautiful vessel for two days, at which time we dock in Punta Cana, Dominican Republic at approximately eleven o’clock in the morning, where you can enjoy plenty of the excursions and activities for the day.”

Again applause followed. Everyone was undoubtedly excited about this cruise. You tried to get out of your funk and onboard the excitement train.

“We will then set sail again, leaving port at ten o’clock that evening and moving on to two days at sea until we reach our second destination of Port of Grand Turk in beautiful Turks & Caicos. At that time, we dock at eleven 0’clock and lift anchors at ten o’clock. From the beautiful Turks & Caicos, we will be at sea for two days until we reach the tropical breezes of the British Virgin Islands!”

You were already making some mental plans for everything you wanted to do at each port.

“After spending out eleven o’clock to ten o’clock time there. We set sail to the glorious white sandy beaches of—Arrrruuuba!”

At that time, the classic Beach Boys song Kokomo came on at the Aruba part. It was so corny, but everyone seemed to love it. You shook your head as the short clip of the song played loudly until it was lowered to play in the background.

“Again, we’re docking at eleven o’clock to set sail again at ten o’clock. We are then at sea for three more days until we get to Ocho Rios, Jamaaaaica!”

As he spoke, you went around the room, placing things you’d need and freshening yourself up. When he finally finished giving the itinerary, you were situated and checking the schedule of events for the day. All in all, it was set to be an action packed seventeen days at sea. Atali must have chosen this length because she knew seven or ten days would not be enough time.

“All right, ladies, gentlemen, kids, and big kids, I hope to see you all at the welcome mingle we’ve scheduled to begin within the next twenty minutes or so, at which time we will lift anchors and say sayonara to New York and aloha to the seven seas.”

He had a voice for radio or a game show. It was velvety deep, just what many women seemed to like these days. You grabbed your phone and crossbody bag and walked out of your room. You had a mission before you lifted anchor. Everyone was still abuzz with talk of the itinerary as more of the beach boys played over the ship speaker system. Vacation vibes were in full effect. Once you got to the media area, you promptly purchased your airtime so your cell would be able to work while at sea. You knew your mother would have a heart attack if you went two days without checking in with her. You didn’t think it was because she was that attached to her children though, you knew it was her motherly duty to remain up in the tea, so she felt continuously connected. As she got older and older, you realized it more and more.

As soon as that mission was completed, you made your way to the top deck where the mingle was being held. As you stepped out into the sun, you marveled at just how extravagant Disney had chosen to go with this ship. Several feet before you stretching obscenely high into the air, you saw something that looked like a rollercoaster. There were plenty of other passengers pointing to it and excitedly chattering about it. You made a mental note to stay as far away from it as possible. Who would think to ride an insanely high rollercoaster on a cruise ship in the middle of the ocean?

Slowly you walked around the deck, cordially smiling at those you passed. You passed a bar area and took one of the prepared cocktails, and proceeded to find a good spot at the side of the ship to watch them lift anchor. After several minutes of searching and bumping into all the excited kids and passengers who were posing for pictures with friends, family, and Disney staff, you found an excellent spot to press your back against.

Across the way, a familiar hat caught your eye. It was him, you thought. He always kept his head low and tried to steer away from big crowds. It was strange to you considering he’d chosen to get on a cruise ship filled with hundreds of people. He wouldn’t be able to escape the crowds. Your eyes followed him as he walked to another bar to grab one of the drinks there. As he did, he joked with the bartender, and it was then you saw a flash of his pearly smile. You couldn’t tell if he was attractive or not, mostly since all you’d gotten were glimpses of pieces of his face. Part of you wanted him to take off the stupid hat so you could be sure, but the other part—the sensible part that remembered why you’d chosen a Disney cruise slapped your ass back into focus.

“Welcome, Disney guests!”

In response, everyone around you screamed, clapped, cheered, and stomped so loudly the sound could have rivaled that of a rave.

“We are pleased to welcome you once again!”

As one of the staff members continued to speak about the ship procedures, expectations, highlights, amenities, and more, you continued to look around the deck, taking in all the grandeur before you. It didn’t take long to get lost in the directory you held. Again you took note of where everything was that you wanted to experience and even went as far as to make a plan of what you wanted to eat each night. Between you and Atali, you were the planner. You liked things to make sense and liked them to be stable and constantly reliable. You hated the erraticness of people and impulsivity. You always tried to steer as far from it as possible.

By the time the speeches were finished, you’d had three drinks and were working on your fourth. The vibration of your phone brought your attention to it.

MSG Javii: Chaton?

You rolled your eyes and sighed out a little louder than you intended. What attracted you to him in the first place was what was annoying you right now. His persistence. You sat in a nearby seat and stared at the text exchange and thought of what you wanted to reply. Five minutes passed with you not typing one word. The truth was you didn’t know what to say. You were that jumbled up. The stress of it all was making your head hurt. You rubbed your brow and began your message.

MSG: I need some time away.

Instantly a message came back.

MSG Javii: From me?

Bobbing your head from side to side, you tried to make a quick decision.

MSG: From this—us.

MSG Javii: Chaton, say what you mean. You know I prefer directness. Do you mean from me?

MSG: Yes.

A few minutes passed before he sent another message. You wondered if you’d hurt him. Part of you didn’t want to hurt him, but the other part wanted him to suffer and see what it was like to be without you. Maybe then he’d start appreciating what he had.

MSG: I just need to figure some things out.

MSG Javii: Are you breaking up with me, Chaton?

The name was killing you, and you were sure he knew it. Every time he called you “chaton,” it made your belly flutter.

MSG: I just need time and space, Javii.

MSG Javii: I love you. You know that, right? I love you more than anything.

MSG: If that were true, I’d be there right now instead of where I am. I have to go.

You closed your messages and sighed out again.

“Mm, I can easily read that expression, and if any man causes brow or forehead wrinkles, he isn’t the one.”

Your head snapped to your right to see an older woman sitting there. She wore a straw hat atop her long red hair that looked close to that of Lucille Ball’s. The hue of her hair complimented her bronze and gold complexion. Her makeup was expertly done, as was her purple painted nails that pinched the straw that was at the corner of her mouth, a mouth that was painted perfectly accentuating her cupid’s bow lips. She was gorgeous.

“Uh--,” you began as she continued.

“The only one who is worth it is the one who gives you cheek wrinkles and smile creases.”

You grinned to yourself and took a sip from your glass that was resting on the table between you.

“Trust me. I’ve dated plenty of men, ones who cause both, ones who cause one more than the other and ones who only cause one—the bad ones.” She motioned to the space between her eyebrows, symbolizing stress wrinkles from furrowing your brows.

“I have yet to meet one who only causes smile creases,” she finished.

You shrugged and looked glanced back to your phone before you put it on the table face down.

“Maybe that one doesn’t exist on this Earth,” you countered.

“A skeptic, I see. You’re one of those women who don’t believe in the one, right?”

After scoffing, you looked at her. “I don’t know what I believe. Once upon a time, I did then---things got complicated.”

The woman placed her drink down and nudged her fist underneath her chin, giving you her complete attention.

“Oh, complications are the joys of life, darling. Nothing is ever cut and dry or so simple and steady. I say go for the ride but make sure you hand on for the bumps.”

You contemplated her words. There was some logic there, but once she said nothing was simple or steady, you had to admit your heart skipped a beat. You hated when things weren’t simple. You took your glass again and finished its contents. At the same time, your eye found the man who’d caught you maybe an hour ago. You watched as he walked closer to where you were seated and caught another glimpse of his face before he passed you.

From beside you, you heard the woman whistle.

“I wouldn’t mind going for a ride with that one.”

Your laugh was loud and couldn’t be stopped. You shook your head at her, but she didn’t look one bit embarrassed or remorseful.

“It’s a cruse darling, a vacation. Now’s the time to live a little—or a lot,” she said, finishing with an exaggerated wink.

This woman was inadvertently suggesting you let your hoe flag fly for the duration of the cruise. She reminded you of your aunt Josephine from your father’s side. As a French woman, she definitely embodied the French lifestyle of only living once and to live life right the first time. You’d spent countless hours with her listening to her stories of her travels, boyfriends, escapades. You and Atali always loved to live vicariously through her. That was until Atali came of age and decided to live just like her.

You sat with this woman who introduced herself as Genevieve and listened to her stories of life and love. Usually, you hated speaking to strangers, but she didn’t feel like one. She felt like a kindred spirit, a much more carefree spirit but still kindred the same. You didn’t realize that two hours had almost passed with the two of you sipping cocktails and giggling. When you said your goodbyes, you wandered around the ship, taking in all it had to offer. You peeked in on activities that were already underway and scoped out other places you could disappear in.

You made it back to your room in time to shower, change, and put on a lite layer of makeup before you made it to dinner at one of the forty restaurants. Once you walked into the restaurant, the atmosphere screamed luxury though it was not opulently done. It still looked family-friendly, but it was done in a way that let you know that you were meant to feel important by the décor alone.

At the bottom of the long stairs, you quickly looked around, trying to find an empty table. When you’d zeroed in on one, you saw a hand waving you down—the hand of the same woman from before, Genevieve. Why not, you thought to yourself before you began to cross the dining area toward her. Within a few steps, you ran right into a body that felt like a brick wall. You could feel your body falling backward, but in the nick of time, a pair of strong, muscular arms wrapped around your back, holding you in place.

If his face had been eluding you all day, it was not anymore. The eyes you stared into were blue enough that the sea you sailed would be envious. His lips were so red that an apple would want a rematch for bragging rights and his face so symmetrical that even the perfect line of symmetry didn’t seem perfect enough when next to him. The man was gorgeous. You watched his eyes roam your face as if he was in no rush, wanting to take in every detail. What felt like minutes was probably only seconds before he set you upright. As you were prepared to speak, he smiled, and the action had you feeling like you’d been hit in the head at the same time as your gut.

“Twice in one day. What’re the odds? Are you okay?”

Rather than speaking, you nodded.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, thank you. I’m—I’m sorry,” you stuttered.

“Nah, forget about it. No harm, no foul.”

From behind him, you could see Genevie giving you a look that said she wanted to know what was being said and who he was.

“I uh—I was going that way,” you said, nodding your head to behind him.

“And me that way.” He nodded behind you. “Stay safe out there,” he uttered before he walked off in the direction you’d just come from, giving you the opportunity to walk to Genevieve.

The look on her face needed no words to along with it, but she still spoke.

“Is that the same snack from before?”

You nodded and nearly snorted out, hearing her use the word.

“What’s his name?”

“No idea, but I feel like I’ve seen him somewhere before. I just—can’t place it.”

“I don’t know how. I’d never forget a face like that.”

She had a point; he had an unforgettable face, one that stayed with you and possibly could haunt your nights. You bet he got whatever he wanted and whoever he wanted. As dinner progressed, you had your choice of different appetizers, entrees, drinks, and desserts. If one wanted Scandinavian food, they could get it, or southern food it was within reach. As you ate, you listened to more of Genevieve’s stories. She told you about the men she’d dated, the things she’d seen in her years, and lessons she’d learned from those men. The moral you learned from her stories was love often, love hard, and love entirely because while you’d remember the pain, you’d remember the love more.

As you ate and listened to her, you couldn’t help but think of the reason you were on this cruise in the first place. You were not running to love but from it. If you were to listen to Genevieve, you should have stayed your ass in New York and gone to Javii. If you listened to her, you’d probably spend another year living in sin. By the end of dinner, you’d met three other women all within the same age range as you, but they all were in different times of their lives. One was newlywed, and on her honeymoon, the second married a year and expecting her first child and the third long married with three children.

It was an interesting look at alternate timelines for you. Any of them could have ended up being you if you’d only made different choices. Part of you wondered which one you wanted to be more, your natural self, or one of the three possibilities.

After dinner, you made your way to one of the theaters to watch the planned show for the night. It was a re-enactment of The Little Mermaid, and the audience was filled with little ones who clapped and cheered throughout. You were surprised at how well the staff performed. They could have easily been true broadway stars. A little more than halfway through the show, you found the stranger with the deep eyes across the room. He was sitting alone, just watching the show with a relaxed look on his face. He looked as if he were genuinely enjoying it. Your curiosity was piqued as to why he was sitting alone watching The Little Mermaid on a ship full of people and why he didn’t seem to be bothered to make acquaintances. Who came on a cruise alone? Once you thought it, you wanted to laugh at yourself. You were the one to come on a cruise alone.

As you were about to look away, his eyes found yours. At first, they looked empty as if he were looking right through you. Then after a few moments, there was a spark in them. You watched him raise his glass to you with a soft smile teasing his lips. Realizing you’d been caught looking, you curtly nodded back then looked to the stage to focus on the show.

Two in the morning. That was the time when you finally made it back to your room. Festivities were going on all around the ship. No one seemed as if they wanted to go back to their rooms. There was something for everyone. The little ones had endless activities, including a sleepover with their favorite Disney characters, where they were set to have plenty of fun for the night. There was a mixer set up like a rave on the opposite side of the ship for the adults. From the things you saw when you scoped it out, you were sure a few siblings were going to be conceived tonight.

As you scanned your bracelet and opened your door, you looked back to see the stranger again. He was looking directly down at you. You gave him a head salute and disappeared inside your room. After a quick shower, you found your way to your balcony to watch the waves roll by with a glass of wine. It was the perfect end to the night.

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

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#hibiscus kisses fic #Chris Evans #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans x reader #chris evans x you #chris evans x black reader #black fanfiction #chris evans x ofc #slow burn fanfic #angst fanfic

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moonyandsaturn · 3 years ago

Text

this love

What if Sirius escaped from Azkaban sooner... you can also read this oneshot here

Remus could remember it clearly. It wasn’t all that long ago. A year or 2, maybe? It’s hard to keep track.

James and Lily died and Sirius went to Azkaban. Peter was dead too, but he could care less.

It had been darkening skies for what seemed like eternity. Not just for himself, Remus was sure of it, everyone could feel it. The war was just simmering down, but could that really be the end of it? Trust was a fickle thing. You can’t bet your life on it, or anyone else's. Truth was in the same boat. Lies were a swirl of black and white with no signals to guide you.

But the truth, the truest of truths, was that the feeling never dimmed. And it was as heartbreaking as it was fulfilling. Did he believe that Sirius killed them? No, but everyone else did. And Remus would be just as doomed to express that.

“Moony, look,” Sirius had nudged him slightly. The two were splayed on the grass, under the shade of a kindred oak tree. The Summer holidays were coming up and Spring was livid.

“Hm?” He bent his next up sleepily to see what it was. A little butterfly was perched upon Sirius’ knee where he sat. Remus smiled. “I think it likes you.”

It was his turn to smile now. Sirius hummed in agreement. “Did you know,” he started and Remus sat up next to him. “That butterflies represent hope?”

“No, where’d you get that?” He aimlessly picked at the grass in front of him as Sirius continued.

“A book?”

“Yes, I’m sure you know what that is, Moony.” He smirked.

“Ha, Ha,” he deadpanned. “What a load of useless knowledge you are.” Remus leaned to the side so that he was leaning on Sirius’ side with his shoulder to rest his own head on.

“Useless! I’ll have you know this might come in handy!”

“And when could that be?” He laughed.

“I don't know,” Sirius admitted. “Sometime.”

“Sometime?”

“Yeah.”

“You aren’t very convincing.” Remus teased.

“Sirius grinned. “You still love me though.”

He pressed a kiss on his cheek. “Yeah, but that didn’t take any convincing.”

“No hope either?”

He laughed. “Unless you’re talking about my mum then no, I don't think so, love.”

“Maybe some other time then.” Sirius leaned his head on top of his.

“If you say so,” Remus smiled. He looked back ahead and the butterfly was gone.

Remus tried to convince Dumbledore into letting him take care of Harry. It didn’t work, obviously. His condition wasn’t suitable for raising a child. He couldn’t disagree. But, Harry was now stuck with some of Lily’s muggle relatives. The Dursleys if he remembered right. Not that Remus had anything against muggles. His mum was one so how could he? But for Harry to grow up without knowing anything about James and Lily? Well, that was the problem. Dumbledore seemed not to care. Perhaps he had other things to do rather than taking care of the next generation of wizards.

He visited them once, the Dursleys. Petunia was a thin little woman with pouty lips. There weren’t many similarities to Lily in her, but Remus could recognize one: her eyes. They were the very same as Lilys, and the very same as Harry’s. She wouldn’t let him in to see Harry. He didn’t even see a peek into the house to look at any other people living there. Petunia claimed to know him from “The Pictures”.

It was well known that Lily loved to take photos. She had an old polaroid camera, the muggle kind. It would print out photos right as you’re taking them. James, Peter and Sirius were obviously very fascinated. She took it everywhere. It hung from a strap around her neck. Remus could recall a few of the photos she took.

There was one of all of them sleeping on the Common Room couch after falling asleep while trying to study. Another Lily charmed to move like the painting they had in the castle. It was one of James and Lily dancing. James had just proposed as Lily, of course, said yes. Remus, Sirius, and Peter were hidden by a nearby tree to watch the outcome. Lily loved dancing. It was quite honestly, the perfect moment. Remus never figured out where that photograph went.

He had the teary-eyed job of cleaning their home after the Potter’s death. But he could never figure out where the specific photo disappeared to.

“Wait, wait hold on!” Remus could see Lily grinning as she released herself from James’ embrace. They didn’t know him, Peter, and Sirius were standing behind three separate trees watching them. James finally got the courage to ask Lily to marry him. He bought the ring 3 months prior but was much too nervous. In these times, he wanted to make sure to keep time precious. Who knew how long they had left? So, he decided he wanted to spend however long they had left with Lily. And they were destined to be together anyway, it didn’t even feel rushed.

“What are you doing?” James let go and watched her. Lily took her camera from the strap around her neck and placed it on top of the dull brick wall to their right. It was this small alcove area near Hogwarts. James thought it to be sentimental to propose where they met so many years ago. Remus thought it was sweet.

She scrambled to get her wand out of her back pocket and casted a quick charm on the top of the camera. They couldn't hear the murmur that escaped her lips as she did it. She walked back toward James with a smile on her face.

“So, what was that?” He placed a quick kiss on her cheek.

“When I press the button to snap a photo on that,” she pointed to the camera. “It should come out like one of those live photos they have in Hogwarts. Even though it’s muggle made.”

James laughed. Like, really laughed.

“What?” She hit him lightly with her wand.

“I just proposed to you but It looks like I’m marrying you and you’re captured memories.” He smiled softly down at her.

Lily reached up and adjusted his glasses to sit right on his nose. “You certainly are.”

They started swinging in tune to an imaginary song together and the wind hummed the melody. James spun her around, under his arm before continuing the dance. Lily quickly reached her hand out to press record.

The two danced and held each other softly.

Remus turned his head when he heard a sigh. He looked to his right to see Sirius looking at him.

“I forgot the cloak, how do we get out of her without them seeing?” He whispered.

Remus shrugged. “Run for it?” He moved his head back to see Peter two trees away and he nodded in agreement.

Sirius made a look that said ‘if you say so’ and motioned for Remus to come over quickly.

“What if we just waited for them to leave? James is gonna freak when he sees us here after telling us not to follow him.” Peter said, closer to the two of them now.

“Um, I don't think waiting here with them slobbering over each other is going to be very fun for us.”

All three of them looked over at the couple. Who was now simply talking to each other.

“Ew, heteros,” Sirius grimaced. Remus laughed quietly.

“Okay,”Peter started. “Count of three we go east, toward the lake, and then, hope James doesn't catch us.”

Sounded like a good plan.

“Right then, One, two, and three!”

Sirius, being as forgetful as he is, might have mixed up easts and wests. Luckily there were more trees scattered to hide where he was. Unfortunately, there was not enough sound to cover Peter’s yells.

“YOUR OTHER EAST, PADS!” He yelled at him, hands cupping his lips.

“Peter, shut up! They’re gonna hear us.” Remus scolded.

“We already did!” Lily replied coolly and out of vision. Peter and himself poked their head out from behind the tree.

“OH FUCK, YOU SAID EAST NOT WEST DIDN’T YOU?” Another yell came from a few yards away.

Remus held in a muffled laugh but relaxed when he heard James and Lily.

They walked over.

“You know I literally saw you all follow me, right?” James said, leaning against the wall.

“Obviously not,” Remus replied.

“Oooo, group picture!” Lily grinned and turned around to prop up that stupid camera once again.

The last thing Remus could remember laughing at was when Sirius came running back saing, “GET MY GOOD SIDE!”

Remus got in bed late into the night. He stumbled around the nearly pitch-black room and crawled into the warmth of countless quilts and pillows. The dreams he silently screamed in the night were the most comforting that he’s felt in a while. It was still hard to sleep alone. Or with anyone else for that matter, but that didn’t happen often.

He once dreamt that these past few years had just been a sinking ship. Some people caught in a rainstorm. A curse planted by thieves. He woke up thinking that it had all been imaginary. That it was in his head. Remus could basically hear Sirius' voice in his ear. “Don't worry, Moony. It’ll turn out alright. We’ve swam together and we’ll sink together, right?” What a surprise it was when he was wrong.

Most people would be wishing for it to all be a joke. For everything to go back to normal. Remus was much too realistic to think that way. He had to keep in mind his condition. Maybe it was for the best. He knew he’d be the first to die if it were by natural causes. The moons weaken his body month by month. It’s a wonder he hadn’t passed already. And for someone to be bitten at such a young age? Unthinkable that they’d live past 30. He was to be 24 in March, time drew faster than he could keep up with.

He’s been able to stay in his and Sirius’ old muggle flat. Sirius paid it off before going to Azkaban and it was similar to staying there. Not that he wanted to. Every corner had some sort of sentiment tied to it. Yet Remus could never bear to take anything down. For the past 2 years the same photos have been getting dusty, the magnets on the fridge have been losing grip, the couch had some new found stains, and the coffee table had prints of mugs scattered like freckles.

It was the ground floor which was unfortunate. The upstairs neighbor didn’t enjoy being quiet. Plus, it felt more invading. All the people on the street could simply just look through the window or put their ear against the wall and hear whatever was going on. Not much, usually. Remus didn’t have a lot of people over. Just himself. He didn’t want to go back to any wizarding towns. No, that was too disgraceful.

There were always two responses when people saw him. It’s one or the other, neither being very pleasant to hear. The first was sympathy: “Oh, you were the one whose friends died. I’m so sorry, dear. Oh and one was sent to Azkaban for the murder of them! My, how horrible. I’m very sorry for your loss.” The second was worse: “So where were you when the Potter’s died? Did you not try to protect them? What about that other one, who gave up his inheritance for a sinful life? Oh, he’s gone to Azkaban. Hmm, I’m glad you were the one who got away…Somehow… ”

And so he gave up going out to places with people he knew. Loneliness was better than being ridiculed.

Sleep was a tedious project that crept up when unwanted and hid itself when needed. Remus pulled the covers tighter and over his ears.

A warm light flickered outside. A fire?

Muggles normally didn’t use candles or anything while walking down a street. That's what the sidewalk lamps were for.

The light burned and flickered.

He saw someone walking on the sidewalk. Young, he thought, maybe in use of a good washing, though.

Remus thought nothing of it.

When morning came a note could be found on his doorstep, not even in his mailbox. Which was weird because there was a code to get into the apartment building.

Harry’s alright, I hope you are too.

At the bottom of the torn letter was a familiar paw print of a love he once knew.

#marauders era #marauders #remus lupin #sirius black #remus x sirius #wolfstar #harry potter #ao3 #james potter #lily evans #jily #peter pettigrew

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disastermages · 3 years ago

Text

[read it on ao3]

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8

Wen Qing isn’t in the kitchen by the time Meng Yao walks back in, though her voice does call out to him when he passes by a door that’s always been previously closed. He doesn’t expect her white coat, nor does he expect the way it makes him feel smaller than her, though she sits in a chair, one leg crossed over the other. Her jeans and boots ruin the picture of her as a doctor, but she’s pulled her hair back, making her look professional from the knee up.

“Can I help you, Miss Wen?” Meng Yao won’t let the confusion sound in his voice, though he still holds onto the doorway. Wen Qing looks meaningfully at the chair across from her, but Meng Yao won’t take the bait until she asks him to. For a long few seconds, Wen Qing seems content to wait him out too, studying her short, unpainted nails and writing things down on the clipboard she balances on her knees.

“Mrs. Yu asks that every member of the household undergo a monthly check up. I’m not doing this for fun.” Wen Qing says finally, clicking her pen once, twice, three times while she frowns up at Meng Yao, “Please have a seat so we can get the questionnaire done.” Meng Yao sits down across from her without further fight, but he doesn’t stop himself from looking around.

“Why have I never seen this room before?”

“Because you aren’t Wei Wuxian and you don’t insist on climbing every tree you can find.” Wen Qing answers, but doesn’t look up from where she’s printing his name onto the form, her hand heavy and sure as it carves out the letters. “You have your office upstairs, and I have mine down here.”

At second glance, Meng Yao sees the piles of books laying just behind a cluster of mugs and glasses, though no plates lay in the office. There’s no examination table to be found, and Meng Yao is grateful for it. “Your birth date and year, please.”

“February 20th, 1964.” Meng Yao answers easily, his hands sit carefully on his own knees, but his fingers still want to tighten and pull at his pants. His chair was already uncomfortable.

“Can you tell me what today’s date is and where you are?”

“The date is May 16th, 1988, and I am at Jiang Manor.” The questions were simple ones, Wen Qing even nods approvingly to herself, but Meng Yao can guess what’s coming. Doctors always asked for complete patient histories, though nothing Meng Yao told her would leave the office, he’d shut the door behind him after he’d finally come in. She would ask eventually, and Meng Yao would have to answer her. He couldn’t lie completely, just in case she already had his records, but he could tell the same lies that were already in those records.

Still, she asks all the questions she should, moving down a list as if he were sitting down inside of an actual doctor’s office. No, he does not smoke, nor does he drink more than the occasional glass of wine. No, to his knowledge, heart disease does not run in his family.Yes, he is sexually active. Yes, he is using protection.

Meng Yao hadn’t missed the flicker of amusement in Wen Qing’s eye when she’d asked the last two questions, but she’s still playing at being professional, so Meng Yao will play along. “Why does Mrs. Yu ask that we do this?”

“Hypochondria by proxy.” Wen Qing says it with a snort, but then her eyes widen and snap up to Meng Yao’s face, her mouth growing hard for a moment before she sighs and sets the clipboard aside. “Don’t repeat what I said, it’s not even an official diagnosis.” Wen Qing pinches the bridge of her nose between two fingers and when she takes her hand away, the spot between her eyes is pink and irritated. “Yanli’s illness is autoimmune, but that doesn’t stop Mrs. Yu from worrying that we’re all going to bring in something that’s going to kill her. She’s getting better.”

Meng Yao isn’t sure who Wen Qing means. The whole house had been treating Jiang Yanli delicately since her fainting spell, but that doesn’t mean she isn’t feeling better. If Yu Ziyuan were getting better, why would she still mandate his check up? He doesn’t ask, he’d have to wait and see.

They go back to playing professionals after that, with Wen Qing shining a flashlight in his eyes and knocking a plastic hammer against his knee caps. She doesn’t ask him to test his grip strength on her fingers.

“You have a broken wrist and three broken ribs on your file, following a fall down a flight of stairs, could I see the flexibility in that wrist? I’ll want to take a look at your ribs, too.” His wrist only ached when it was cold, Meng Yao tells her as he bends it back and forth and rolls it easily. There’s still a clicking sound, but the pain of it has long since faded.

“I’ll be quick about this.” Wen Qing promises as Meng Yao removes his button down and then his undershirt, pressing her cold fingers into his ribs harder than Meng Yao deems necessary. “How did you fall?” The question is neutral, and Wen Qing’s voice is calm, but the voice of the triage nurse had also been calm while she took down his information. He hadn’t been able to write it down himself, he’d driven himself to the emergency room one handed.

“I was at my father’s house, I tripped.” Meng Yao chooses the words carefully, just like he had the night it happened. The doctors and nurses at the hospital had been willing to take his word for it then, but when he glances down at Wen Qing, he sees something hard and cold in her eyes. It doesn’t fade as she sits back into her chair, giving him room to dress again.

“You’ve healed well.” Wen Qing offers it up without roughness or warmth, as if she already knew the truth and she could accept his lie as some sort of gift. It was a gift Meng Yao is willing to take, though, better the gift of acceptance than the charity of pity.

Her examination is complete, but Wen Qing still doesn’t set Meng Yao free, her small, pale hands coming to rest in her own lap as she sets the clipboard aside for good. “You have to understand, Meng Yao, that Yanli has grown very attached to you, very quickly. She’s friendly with everyone, but even with me, she didn’t share everything right away.” Wen Qing does not touch him, but she looks as though she’s thinking about it, her eyes going dark and still, “She considers you a friend, please don’t make her regret that choice.”

There were a dozen things Meng Yao could say to defend himself, but when he opens his mouth and Wen Qing looks up at him again. He realizes then that she’s asking him for a favor, and he nods along with it, swallowing thickly.

“Something else before I let you go, Meng Yao,” Wen Qing nods and looks away from him, pulling herself back together while she wrestles an envelope from the stack of papers on her desk, “my uncle has found out that you’re here, he’s asked me to pass along his letter of recommendation to you, should you ever need it.” For a long moment, the letter hangs between them, and Meng Yao’s mouth hangs open like a fish.

Wen Ruohan and both of his sons were supposed to be in three separate maximum security prisons, Meng Yao had only worked for them for a year when the offices and three of the houses had been raided. Meng Yao had been spared implication by eight months. Misfortune had reached for him and grabbed Wen Ruohan and his sons by the collars instead.

“I thought…”

“He’s still allowed to write to family, Meng Yao, but I wouldn’t doubt they check his letters.”

No matter how badly he wants to, Meng Yao won’t tear the letter open in front of Wen Qing, instead, he nods his head once more and turns to leave, listening to the scratching of Wen Qing’s pen as the door nearly shuts behind him.

“You’ll find a shoe box full of condoms in the third drawer of my filing cabinet, should you need them. Mrs. Yu makes me keep those, too.”

Wen Qing tosses it over her shoulder as if it means nothing, but Meng Yao feels his cheeks color as he hurries away from her office as quickly as he can without running. He’s grateful that she doesn’t like him enough to ask him for details. Jiang Wanyin and Wei Wuxian either didn’t know, or didn’t care, and Jiang Yanli was too kind to ask, she only hinted and grinned when Meng Yao’s cheeks colored, when she wasn’t passing along gifts from Wen Qing’s hands.

Still, part of him wants to tell someone, so it’s more real than the small, cold square of his bedroom or stolen kisses in the woods while Jiang Wanyin and Wei Wuxian ran ahead of them to push each other into the river. Part of him wants to know if Lan Xichen would mind such a thing, or if he intended on keeping what lay between him and Meng Yao more of a secret than it already was.

Bile and worry rise up in his throat, but Meng Yao chokes them down. He wouldn’t go there. Lan Xichen hadn’t given him any kind of indication that he wanted to keep what’s between them the kind of secret one keeps locked in the basement or in a closet with skeletons, he’d only told Meng Yao to be careful of Yu Ziyuan, that she wouldn’t fire either of them, that she would just plant herself between them if she saw them getting too close. Lan Xichen didn’t strike him as cruel, so he couldn’t be. He’d always been kind, even when he stole into Meng Yao’s room, even when he was forced to wrangle Wei Wuxian or Jiang Wanyin.

Lan Xichen is kind. Meng Yao would allow him to be.

The taste of something bitter and cruel is just leaving Meng Yao’s mouth when he sees him, the same boy from the woods, wearing the same clothes and lingering at the edge of the Jiang’s property line, one hand resting on a tree, while the other holds a knife, an amused smile on his face, even as Meng Yao turns and hurries back to the kitchen, uncaring if anyone hears him run now.

Jiang Yanli whirls around with a knife still held in her hands when Meng Yao scrambles into the kitchen, an apron protects the gray-white of her dress from whatever it is she’s cooking. “Do you see him?” Meng Yao asks, turning the lock on the back door and latching it.

For a moment, Jiang Yanli only looks at Meng Yao, before she turns to look out the window, and then she pales further. “Xue Yang.” Her voice doesn’t climb above a whisper as she backs away from the window, the knife still held in one hand while the other grabs onto Meng Yao’s elbow, holding him tight as they both back out into the dining room. “You have to go get A-Xian and A-Cheng.” Jiang Yanli’s voice is tight as she gives her orders, her grip tightening still, “He’s tried to hurt A-Xian before, but A-Cheng’s temper… I don’t want either of them going out there. Where is Wen Qing?” It doesn’t feel as though Jiang Yanli is going to let him go long enough for Meng Yao to collect her brothers, but he still backs her further away, until he’s sure she’s out of sight from any of the kitchen windows.

They both back into the same chair, but Jiang Yanli is the one who threatens it with her knife, her shoulders high and tight.

It takes Meng Yao nearly five minutes to guide Jiang Yanli back to Wen Qing’s office, but the door is locked when they get there. Meng Yao doesn’t stop himself from pounding on it with the flat of his hand. He doesn’t see the boy, Xue Yang when he dares to glance at the window, but that meant nothing at all, not when Wen Qing still hadn’t answered them.

Meng Yao’s hand almost meets her nose when she finally opens the door with a jerk, a question already halfway out of her mouth when she sees the knife in Jiang Yanli’s hand, for the first time, Meng Yao sees that there’s still broccoli stuck to the blade. Wen Qing insists on calling the police after she’s gotten Jiang Yanli to sit down in the same chair that Meng Yao had occupied earlier, but the knife lays on the desk, just within her reach as Meng Yao turns to try and call Wei Wuxian and Jiang Wanyin down, but he gets no response.

Licking his lips, Meng Yao glances back once, his eyes meeting Wen Qing’s while she stays on the line, one of her hands has already found its way onto Jiang Yanli’s cheek, one show of affection already bigger than what Meng Yao had already seen. Without a word, she frowns and nods, wedging the phone between her shoulder and ear to wave him out of the room.

He didn’t have to ask her to lock the door, and she didn’t have to tell him she was going to. Jiang Yanli would be safe with Wen Qing, at least until he could find her younger brothers and herd them into Wen Qing’s office too.

Meng Yao keeps clear of the windows, calling them again, even as he starts down his short flight of stairs. Wei Wuxian’s workshop was mostly soundproofed, they might not have heard him call because they were in there with the door closed, but when Meng Yao opens the door without knocking, everything is still and dark. It makes Meng Yao’s skin prickle, Wei Wuxian’s workshop wasn’t meant to be still, Meng Yao knows that much.

“Jiang Wanyin! Wei Wuxian!” Meng Yao doesn’t shout for them, but he lets his voice become sharp as he climbs the stairs two at a time. He should have grabbed something. There were knives to spare in the kitchen, but Jiang Yanli wouldn’t forgive him if he lost one or damaged it, it was better to leave them where they lay in their drawers. “Your sister and Miss Wen want the both of you downstairs.”

Meng Yao isn’t foolish enough to pretend he has any authority over them, if Lan Xichen had been present, Meng Yao might have invoked his name too, but Lan Xichen would be home with his family by now. What would they do with them when they did get them downstairs and herded into Wen Qing’s office? They couldn’t stay there all day and night, there’d hardly been enough room for Meng Yao, Jiang Yanli, and Wen Qing in the office. Five people would be unforgivably tight and nervous while they were stalked by Xue Yang in the yard.

Meng Yao should have grabbed something, even if it were just the fire poker, like Yu Ziyuan had done. It would have been a constant in his hands. It might have done something.

He opens the doors without care now, stopping for only a handful of seconds to look before he moves on again, anxiety climbing up his throat and bringing that bitter-sick taste back into his mouth.

Calling again, Meng Yao rounds the corner that leads to the west wing of the house without realizing it until the chill surrounds him. He doesn’t stop himself from wrapping his arms around himself, he won’t acknowledge that he can see his own breath, not now, not until he finds Jiang Wanyin and Wei Wuxian.

“I won’t ask again, come out and come downstairs with me!” Finally, Meng Yao allows his voice to become stern, though who knows if they’d think anything of it, if they did hear him. He’s just about to turn around and start searching downstairs when the creaking of a door makes Meng Yao walk too quickly towards it, his hand catching the knob and pushing inside before he can think better of it.

“Your sister wants you downstairs, the police are on their way, please come down with me now, before she starts to worry.” Frustration had kept him blind for a moment, but when Meng Yao looks, the room is empty and colder than the hallway had been. His breath is clinging to his lips in steady, white clouds now, and his hand leaves the doorknob.

The door wastes no time in slamming shut the second his back is turned, the knob refusing to turn no matter how many times Meng Yao rattles it or tries with all his strength. “Let me out.” Meng Yao tries to gather what’s left of the sternness before, but his throat is starting to feel thick. “Jiang Wanyin, Wei Wuxian, now isn’t the time for pranks, let me out and I won’t tell Miss Jiang what you’ve done.” He’s not pleading, Meng Yao tells himself, he’s bargaining. If he bargains, they might let him out with the cruel laughter only teenage boys are capable of.

Meng Yao pounds one fist against the door now, the other still rattling the doorknob, as if someone might hear him and let him out from the outside, shivering all the while. He doesn’t dare glance behind himself, even as he hears another door in the room swing open. He tries to tell himself that he’s imagining the fingers curling around his neck, his voice raising as he finally lets himself plead to be let out, but no answer ever comes. No cruel laughter ever echoes through the halls and no footfalls of Jiang Wanyin and Wei Wuxian ever sound as Meng Yao squeezes his eyes shut.

A voice Meng Yao has never heard before calls out to him, and air, still colder than before, nags at his ear and at his upper arms while the voice pleads for him to turn around, to turn around and look. He won’t pretend he can’t hear the grin in that voice, it makes him too sick to ignore. Laughter rings out around him, changing the voice from high pitched and grating to something lower and closer, but madder all the same, the hands at his throat squeezing tight once more before they’re gone and the door swings open, dropping him onto the hallway floor while Meng Yao coughs and sputters.

His vision is still blurry when two shapes come running to him, both of them dropping down to their knees and calling out to a third, smaller shape behind them. He has to blink and cough a while longer before his eyes focus on the faces of Jiang Wanyin and Wei Wuxian, even as Jiang Yanli comes to kneel between the two of them, her face wild and afraid.

“Where were they?” Meng Yao asks Jiang Yanli instead of either of her brothers, his throat still feeling rough, but he doesn’t dare reach for it, Jiang Yanli’s hands are already on his shoulders, stopping Meng Yao from trying to stand up on his own.

“A-Xian and A-Cheng were in the downstairs west wing,” Jiang Yanli says calmly, trying hard to control her face, even as both of her brothers sit back and look away, or at each other, “they said they heard a door slam and someone start screaming right above their heads.” Meng Yao wouldn’t call what he’d done screaming, but he still swallows and nods, though his throat aches. “What happened?”

Jiang Yanli’s voice isn’t accusatory, but she does look over Meng Yao’s head and into the room, a frown on her face and her hands holding Meng Yao tighter. “The door was open, I thought your brothers might be in there, but when I went in to look, the door slammed shut and wouldn’t open again.” Meng Yao doesn’t tell her about the hands, or the laughter, not yet, not in front of the other two.

“It gets drafty up here.” Jiang Wanyin supplies weakly, and Jiang Yanli shakes her head.

“You know that’s not what it was, A-Cheng.” One hand leaves Meng Yao’s shoulder and presses against Jiang Wanyin’s cheek, tilting his head up from where he’d lowered it. Jiang Yanli does not smile, but she nods her head and strokes her thumb underneath her brother’s eye. “A-Yao, the police are searching the woods right now, and Wen Qing is waiting on the porch for them, I’d like to get you downstairs where we can look at your neck.”

Meng Yao knows the tone that Jiang Yanli is using now, he’d heard her use it dozens of times with both of her brothers, and even more rarely, with her mother or Wen Qing. She’s plying him with a sweet tone of voice, and Meng Yao lets her, though he insists on getting up on his own.

All three Jiang Siblings clump around him on the stairs, keeping him safe in the middle, with Jiang Yanli leading and Jiang Wanyin and Wei Wuxian bringing up the rear.

Meng Yao lets it be.

For now.

#the untamed #mdzs #mdzs fic #xiyao #untamed fic #jin guangyao #wen qing #jiang yanli #jgy #jyl #wq #this chapter is dedicated to my cats who waited until i was working on the spooky parts to start knocking stuff over in the next room

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yamithediaperdork · 4 years ago

Text

Let’s Make A Star! (MHA)

Let's make a star!

To the surprise of no one, Mineta was spending his Friday night doing what he did well, just about every night in his room: Looking at porn online. the shameless pervert was proud of his status though even if he was finding increasingly weird porn to look at, and tonight he'd decided to look into a fetish to spice things up. 'Man does not exist on tentacle porn alone' He thought with a little giggle, going to his favorite my porn site. Hmm'ing and ha'ing for a second, he decided what the hell and typed in adult diaper and soon was browsing the kinky world of grown women and men acting like babies and crapping themselves, though it wasn't quite getting him the thrill he was looking for. Not ready to give up the fight yet (he prided himself on being able to get off to almost anything after all) he went into a chat room for the ABDL's and asked if anyone had any good video's or pictures to recommend, saying he was looking for a super red faced or embarrassed diaper boy or girl. the response's lit up and he was showered with links, though most of them he had seen already to his disappointment. the last link however was one he'd have to pay to unlock, but since it was only 5 bucks and the title of it was 'super embarrassing diaper mess while cleaning the potty' Mineta figured it would be worth it. As the video started and he saw who the star was the pervert grinned ear to ear, this was WELL worth the five bucks!

Katsuki was in a bad mood Saturday morning. Not only had he had to go to class despite it being the weekend to do a stupid make up test for one he'd flunked, He'd been getting non stop text messages from grape head about wanting to meet up. 'Because THAT'S what I wanna do, hang out with a pervert.' Katsuki thought, just ignoring the texts, and having to turn his phone off while taking the test anyways. After handing the test in Katsuki was free to go and found the fucking perv waiting for him outside of the classroom. "You know, Ignoring people is rude." The little shit said, wagging a figure at Katsuki. "all the fucks I give about what you think are in my hand.. Oh look! there's nothing there!" Katsuki said and kept walking. Mineta apparently wasn't to be ignored, and dashed to catch up to him. "You know, you should be nicer to someone who could get you expelled." He huffed. THAT caught Katsuki's attention, and with it being just the two of them in the hell he turned around and looked at the pervert. "Really? and how are you going to get me expelled? By pissing me off so much I blow you up? I'd likely get a god damn medal." Katsuki pointed out with a smirk. "well as i understand it, Hero's aren't suppose to have pay to see porn out there, though yours is more interesting then most." Mineta said, a evil smile on his face. The smirk instantly dropped from Katsuki's face and his jaw dropped. "I-I don't know what your talking about." he stammered. "Really, so your NOT 'stinky little diaper boy for pay'?" Mineta asked, a mock look of surprise on his face. "That's odd, you must have a twin out there then, but hey, maybe I'm wrong, let's bring up a video an-" And the little shit was bringing up his phone and indeed was going to his saved video's folder. "W-wait!" Katsuki whimpered, his cheeks bright red. "Ok ok it's me, what the fuck do you want?" "Well what I want is a few things, but I think we should go back to your room and talk in semi private don't you?" Mineta asked, a smug look on his face. "..Yeah ok." Katsuki huffed, and lead the way.

Coming into Katsuki's dorm room Mineta was shocked at how pleasant it smelled in there when about 70 percent of the blond's video's had him taking a dump in his huggies. 'then again he would of been busted long ago if he hadn't of learned how to take care of it.' The pervert thought. Strolling over and taking a seat on Katsuki's bed, Mineta pointed at the floor for Katsuki to take a seat, and chuckled as he meekly did so. "So I think it's clear by now that I could destroy you with little to no effort on my part. the higher ups don't want anther pervert hero out there making the hero community look bad." Mineta started, enjoying the look of worry on Katsuki's face. "But before I make my list of demands, I'd like to know what exactly prompted you to start crapping yourself in huggies for pay." "I uh..I.." Katsuki was turning SUCH a cute shade of red and Mineta found himself loving his power over the much bigger and deadlier boy. "yes? Go on.." Mineta chuckled. "I needed to make some money fast for a bike I wanted, and my mom was refusing to help. then some pervert old guy said he'd buy the bike for me if I crawled around in a diaper and sucked on a pacifier for 2 hours. I figured I could always blow him up if he tried to cheat me or do anything weird but the deal went off. After I realized they had to be A LOT of people like him, and it was easy money..S-So Next time I got some money from mom I got a pack of diapers and well.. You know.." Katsuki trailed off. "Set up a pay to view porn channel where you crap your diapers and do walks of shame. And your saying nothing you do is really YOUR fetish, just doing it for the money?" Mineta asked. "Well um..I.." Katsuki whined big time and was poking two fingers together. it was so unlike him that Mineta was having to bite his tongue to keep from laughing. "I Might of semi kinda come to MAYBE like it a little...but it's mostly for the money. A lot of what I do is actually fan submitted requests and I only do the ones that come with a tribute attached to them." He finished up. "well I think if your gonna keep charging as much as you do, you're gonna need to step up your game and your camera work. I know it's tough for you to film yourself so I'll be helping you with that from now on." Mineta said, and seeing a argument starting to form on Katsuki's lips he stopped it in it's tracks."That's part of my demands to keep quiet so don't even think of fighting unless you wanna be famous around school. Second item on my list is that half of what you make though being a diaper filling perv goes right into my greedy little hand. I'm not helping you and keeping my mouth shut for free after all." Katsuki glared but then huffed and pouted, crossing his arms and glaring at the floor. "Third part of my list of demands is that you wear a diaper to class at least twice a week, we'll get you some thinner ones and you won't have to use it but I think it'll keep you from getting any big ideas. That's all, for now." Mineta finished up and gave Katsuki a look that dared the diapered for pay boy to just try and argue. "Your a fucking bastard you know that?" Katsuki growled. "Just for that, whenever we're in private from now on you'll call me daddy. go ahead little boy, keep mouthing off." Mineta said. "..Fine you win.." Katsuki huffed and slumped, knowing he was beaten. "I'm sorry, 'you win' what?" Mineta asked and leaned down and cupped Katsuki's chin, making the blond look him in the eyes. "..You win..Daddy." Katsuki whimpered. "Good boy! Now let's go and get you all padded for a new video." Mineta laughed and gave Katsuki a condescending head pat.

Katsuki was thankfully allowed to pick his own outfit and diaper himself as Mineta was busy going though the fan requests that Katsuki had been giving, using Katsuki's laptop and also copying his login information. "If I go to log in later and you've changed the password.." The purple haired bastard had said, trailing off but his threat clear. "I won't daddy." Katsuki promised. Katsuki went with one of his teddy bear print diapers, with a blue back round and then picked out a tank top that was slightly too short and showed a little bit of belly so the diaper wasn't covered at all, Blue back round and a big teddy bear on the front. 'I might as well look stylish if I'm gonna be blackmailed.' Katsuki reason, and then opened up a locked drawer in his desk. inside was a selection of 5 different pacifiers and of course each one went with a outfit/ and or diaper print he had. So naturally he had a blue paci that had a teddy on the mouth guard and had a string of darker blue cord so he could wear it around his neck. (he'd tried using paci clip's with ribbon but had almost gotten busted when he'd caught his nipple with one and shrieked out in pain.) Finishing up the outfit was to no ones shock a pair of blue socks with a smiling bear on the ankles. "heh, adorable. So how much have you actually sunk into this? because getting a outfit that cute couldn't of been cheap if you had to get it mailed in." Mineta asked. "The uh.. first half dozen or so shows were all about shocking up supplies." Katsuki admitted then added. "There was one outfit a fan sent me along with 300 bucks to do a private video but I got nervous and trashed it." "Tsk, naughty naughty! what was it?" Mineta asked. "...A fairy costume, with winks and everything and a really short tutu. I just.. I wore it to do the video and then got rid of it, lying and said my mess had leaked on it while changing. the customer got mad and hasn't talked to me since and actually blocked me." Katsuki said, wishing he had kept his mouth shut. Actually he was wishing a lot of things at the moment to be fair. "I See, well thats a shame they blocked you. we'll have to get you a replica at some point so you can do a free video to make it up to them. I assume it's too late to go and get it out of the trash." Mineta said with a disappointed look on his face. "Y-yeah, that was 2 month's ago." Katsuki squeaked. "Hmm, do you have the video saved somewhere? I'd like to see it." "N-No..I just sent the clip to him and then..like i said, got paranoid and deleted it from my computer. I doubt he even kept it." Katsuki whimpered. "heh, actually I bet he just went and uploaded it onto a free porn site to show everyone the naughty sissy baby..But I'll look for it later." "I-I don't think he'd of done that! It would be breaking a rule an-" Katsuki started, he'd never thought of that possibly before and now was going semi pale. "If it's on the net, I'll find it. but as I said that's a matter for latter. for now I've picked out one of the fan requests that's been sent four times already but you've turned it down each time." Mineta said with a evil grin. Katsuki's gut dropped and he whimpered, already knowing what request it would be. the fan in question was offering a tribute of a extra 200 bucks if the clip got made, but what they wanted was one of Katsuki's limits. A stroll in the halls in one of his baby outfits during the day. "W-We can't you have t-" Katsuki started to whimper but Mineta just gave him a evil smile. "Relax, if we're nice and fast about it, there's no way anyone will catch us..they're all out having fun, visiting their folks or studying in their dorms. Trust me, I don't want you busted and outed, then i lose my hold over you and end up a scorch mark on a wall." Mineta said. Katsuki huffed but had to admit Mineta had a point and they started to plan out how they were gonna do it.

25 minutes and one diaper change later (Katsuki's nerves had gotten to him) and the pervert was out in the halls, his camera phone set and gave a gentle cry of all clear to the door, then started to record. Katsuki poked his head out of his room, and looked around, then slowly walked out holding a series of smallish pieces of white cardboard and waddled down the hall closer to the camera and with his paci in his mouth, held them up to the camera. 'Hi! I'm a big silly stinky diaper boy, and right now I'm at school.' Katsuki counted down from 20 in his head then switched to the next card. 'I've been getting requests to show off my diaper butt in the halls during the day. it's Saturday so almost no one is here but still..' And he grimaced and suckled loudly looking around as he counted down then swapped card. 'I REALLY hope no one see's me in the halls like this! I'm kind of a bully and this would RUIN me!' ruin had 3 underlies under it and Katsuki scrunched up his face and squirms, and when it was time... 'But I feel so excited and naughty out in the halls like this! Thanks Meaniesitter_345 for the request!' putting the cards under one arm, Katsuki used the other hand to rub the front of his diapers and then walked away from the camera, going down to almost the end of the hall and coming back. He was gonna go and do the same for the other side of the hallway when some loud voices were heard. "Mannn i can't believe you got us kicked out of the arcade Hanta!" grumbled the voice of Mezou. "hey, that little bugger was hogging the machines, Somebody had to do something!" came Hanta's reply. Katsuki's eyes went wide in fright and he shot a look at Mineta who nodded and pointed for Katsuki's door, both of them rushing and barley getting in and slamming the door before the other other boys could round the corner and see them. laying against the door in case they tried it and both the baby and the perv panting, they could hear the boys keep arguing, only pausing to ask if the other smelled baby powder. "nah, we have to be imaging it. I mean, who wears baby powder around here?" "I dunno, Izuku cries a lot soo.." Both boys laughed and kept going.

'Almost busted in the halls' was uploaded a hour later after some minor editing and with in the first 15 minutes it had been viewed 70 times. with the clip only being a dollar and shot much better then his others it was going like hot cakes and the comments were pouring in, Katsuki was more popular then ever. 'LOL bet baby crapped himself when he was almost caught!' 'Boooo! you should of stayed in the hallway and let them see you!' 'Was anyone else hoping his door was gonna be locked? LOL' 'OMG your so cute!' 'Hey, how do I request a clip? do I just PM or what?' It was that last one that Mineta answered first, telling people to send all and all requests to the inbox, Blondie baby had a new manager who would make sure as many of them could filled as possible, though tributes would help push certain ideas over others. Katsuki for his part sat on the floor, hugging his stuffie and rocking back and forth a bit, hoping that Mineta wouldn't notice the slight smell coming from that wasn't going away. when he'd almost been caught he'd started to mess himself but had clamped his bowels down, and had been told to wait till 'daddy' was finished with the big boy computer stuff before asking permission to use the potty. His tummy was gurgling and it was getting harder and harder to hold his back door bomb in and he whined and whimpered around his paci as he suckled it, then waved one arm trying to get Mineta's attention from where the perv sat up on the bed, using Katsuki's laptop. "-Sigh- what is it Baby butt?" Mineta asked, a slight tone of annoyance in his voice though mentally he was delighted. It was pretty clear that the blond diaper bitch had at least started to fudge his huggies, even if Katsuki shook his head no every time he was asked if he had. 'just like the fucking big baby your dressed up as.' Mineta mused. "I-I gotta go poo poo!" Katsuki whined, having taken his paci out and whimpered. "it's gonna be a BIG one! Please let me use the potty!" Dropping his teddy bear, Katsuki knelled forward, both hands pressed together. "..Allllright..but only because I don't wanna change a shitty diaper. off you go." He said, smirking and jerking a thumb to the bathroom. Katsuki nodded and smiled and relaxed a bit, and moved to crawl into the bathroom.Sadly as it would turn out, relaxing was the last thing he should of done. He barley moved when a loud gurgle from his tummy was heard and Katsuki gasped and whimpered. "N-Nooo!" he whined and grabbed at his tummy while going face down and ass up in front of the bathroom door, about to load his diapers. Never one to pass up a opening like this, Mineta grabbed the phone and started to record as Katsuki loaded the seat of his diapers, blorting out the back of the teddy bear diaper and making them vanish. 'heh, This is gonna be SUCH easy money." Mineta thought, then the smell hit him and he wrinkled his nose. 'Maybe not as easy as I thought...'

the end for now.

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fantasticfangirl21 · 4 years ago

Text

How Much He Means to Me

Word count: 7150

Ships: Moxiety (Patton x Virgil) Side Logince and Karrot Kings

Trigger warnings: Sick characters, coughing, self doubt, anxiety, language

Characters: Patton Virgil Roman Logan Remus Janus Thomas Nico Joan

How much he means to me

Pattons fingers tap restlessly against his back pack straps while walking through the hall to his last class of the day. His friends Logan and Roman flank his sides, left and right respectively. They are talking about something for their English class, Romeo and Juliet possibly, Patton remembers they are reading act three in class today. He zones out again thinking about a certain missing person. It's not like he's friends with the kid or anything… well not really, but Patton has been watching him from a distance for quite some time now. Not because he's cute or anything… pfft... he just seems anxious sometimes during class and such and Patton was always a bit worried about the dark strange teen in the back of class. He always had his headphones over his ears, blocking out anything and everything in class, yet still managing to turn in all work on time or ahead of it, and keep all As and Bs. Something Patton couldn't do without his friend Logan's constant assistance. Patton often found himself distracted in class.

“-tton? Patton…?” Patton blinked from his thoughts finding both Roman and Logan looking at him curiously, they were near the classroom door now.

“Huh? Oh sorry! What was that?” Patton asks, refocusing as they enter the classroom.

“I asked if you were okay?” Roman says, his tone pitching up at the end somehow making it sound like a question rather than a statement.

“Your expression was rather distracted.” Logan adds.

“Oh, yes I'm okay!”

“Is it about Virgil being absent?” Logan asks inquisitively as they take their seats in class as Zr. S (Joan) sets up the room for today's English lesson. Patton's face coloured at that and he looked at Logan surprised.

“What?!”

“Pat it's pretty obvious you've been crushing on a Jack Smellington for a while now.”

“Yes, your eyes dilate each time he so much as walks into the room. Speaking of which, he's not in the room, so am I right to assume you're worried about him?” Logan asks, his grey eyes sparkling intelligently under his glasses. Patton's face shifts from soft pink to burning red and he adjusts his circular glasses frames nervously.

“Lighten up, teach he's going to pass out from all that blushing.” Roman says with a knowing smirk sliding up to sit on Logan's desk. The two have been a known couple for quite some time, Logan used to get aggravated about such actions from Roman. Though now he barely glances at Roman on his desk anymore.

“I- What no I- I just, Um- I mean…” Patton is quiet for a moment, his blush only worsening by Romans attentiveness.

“Ahhh young love~” Roman swoons dramatically off the desk and into Logan, who catches him, having expected the overdramatic boy to do so. Logan, now with Roman seated on his lap smiles slightly before addressing Patton.

“You could bring him the work he misses today after school, I'm sure he would be most appreciative and you would be able to check on him without arousing suspicion.” Logan offers. Roman throws an arm around Logan and lays his head on his shoulder.

“It would be really cute if you gave him his stuff and brought him cookies, you made cookies today in baking class earlier right?”

“Well yeah but we've never really talked before… wouldn't it be weird If I just showed up at his house with English work and cookies???”

“Not if you say you made too many-” Roman starts, only to be cut off by Logan who just got an idea.

“You can say that Zr. S asked you to bring him the work from today.” Logan interrupts, Roman pouts at being interrupted and Logan moves a hand through Romans hair to compensate. Roman smiles again, leaning into the touch for a moment before speaking.

“Besides I'm sure Mr. Sanders will tell us where he lives if we say that we want to check on Virgil, he was probably going to check on him himself knowing how worried he gets about his students.”

“Oh yeah, I'm sure he has homework in science too… You should gather work from all of his teachers actually, we could go with you.”

Zr. S clears their throat as the bell rings, glancing at Roman and Logan, thankfully not only are they a lax teacher but they also couldn't care less about their students being openly gay. They begin the introduction to Act 3 and pass out the guided notes before calling a few students to the front to read for today's characters in scenes one and two.

“Janus is Petruccio, Remus is Tybalt, Patton is Benvolio, Virgil is Mercutio and Roman you can be Romeo again, Logan I need you to be Juliet later in the second scene if you don't mind.” Roman gets up quickly, taking the plastic sword and facing it at his brother, Remus, who has his sword already as well, Logan stays seated smirking and Patton raises his hand tentatively as he stands. “Yes Patton?”

“Um, Zr. S Virgil isn't here today.” He says, glancing at Virgil's seat while making his way to the front. Joan follows Patton's gaze to find their perfect attendance student in fact missing, they frown slightly.

“That's odd…” They say, “He's never been absent before… hmm.” They think for a moment, “Val you can be Mercutio then, I will print out filled in notes for Virgil and hold it for when he returns.”

“I can take it!” Patton says quickly, Zr. S turns to him, eyebrow raised and Patton pinkens slightly.

Joan smiles, they would have been blind not to notice the looks Patton constantly sneaks at Virgil during class. Though this sudden confidence was a bit unexpected, Zr. S gathers the papers from the printer and hands them to Patton. “Perfect, would you like me to inform the other teachers that you will be bringing his assignments to him?”

“Yes! I can pick them up after class and take them over to his house if that's okay with you.”

“Certainly, I'll let you leave early with Roman and Logan to do so.” They say as Patton smiles before moving back to his seat to place the papers in his bag. “We need a Benvolio still so come back up here Patton.”

Patton does as he's asked and returns to the front, taking a sword and a Romeo and Juliet book to use for the reading. The rest of class runs rather quickly, Roman being over dramatic, Val gets killed by Remus, flanked by Janus, after which Roman avenges by “killing” him. Roman gets banished and Logan runs through his elegant soliloquy, the way he reads it almost causing Roman, in his seat, to actually swoon. Though Logan is a bit stiff at times he is quite a nerd for Shakespeare, and would rather read the part with emotion like it was intended, than without. Nearing the end of class Zr. S calls Patton, Roman and Logan to the front and sends them off with a hall pass as they said they would. They stop by all of Virgil’s classes, Logan for some reason knowing his schedule though they only share English and Science with him.

They end up at Science last, walking into Mr. Sanders classroom, mostly empty seeing that the bell had rung a few minutes ago. Patton knocks on the doorframe since it's already open and they walk in to find Mr. Flores (Nico), the Music teacher, chatting with Mr. Sanders, and sitting on his desk in the same fashion Roman was to Logan’s desk earlier. Mr. Flores smiles at the kids and kicks Thomas’ knee lightly to get him to look up from the song the two had been working on.

“Hey boys! What brings you here this morning?” Thomas asks, looking at the boys entering the room.

“Afternoon.” Mr. Flores and Logan correct in unison.

“Ah- my bad, time is hard to keep track of. What brings you here this afternoon.” He says with a chuckle. Roman nudges Patton with his elbow and Patton steps forward slightly with a shy smile.

“I came to pick up Virgil's work for today-”

“Oh right! Joan emailed me about that a bit ago.” Thomas gets up and moves to the printer, gathering the papers he had printed for them. He turns back around and hands them to Patton. “There ya go Pat, I also included directions to his house that I was going to use to check on him later. I wasn't sure if you knew how to get there or not.” Logan gives Patton a raised eyebrow look that says ‘Told you’ and Patton shoots back a smile before turning it on Mr. Sanders.

“Thanks Mr. Sanders! I wasn't expecting the directions but they will help… I've never been to his house before.” Patton responds with a shy smile. Logan and Roman exchange a look over Pattons head, both smiling.

Thomas nods with a bright expression, “Anything to help out my students, just make sure he's doing okay and text me after you check in on him alright Pat? You still have my number from the bake sale earlier this year right?” Patton nods quickly, remembering how Mr. Sanders was one of the main teachers in charge of the event along with Patton's baking teacher Mr. Williams (Terrence). Pattons gaze rises to the wall clock over Mr. Flores’ head, seeing it's been around twenty minutes since school let out he glances at the door in silent question. Thomas smiles at him with a laugh. “You don't need my permission to leave the room afterschool like you do during the day Patton, you three can go. I only have that rule so that Remus doesn't sneak out before the end of class like he loves to do.” The trio laugh and Thomas, along with Nico, chuckle. Both have Remus in their classes this year.

It's not long before the three boys are back in the halls and Nico is back chatting alone with Thomas about their days. Roman and Logan walk side by side on the right side of Patton, this time roman gushing about how cute Mr. Sanders and Mr. Flores are as a couple. They have been married for around three years now, having gotten married in the boys first year in high school. Even now, in their Senior year, Roman couldn't get over the pictures that he had begged for, of their wedding. Logan just listened to his boyfriends gush per usual, Roman often just liked someone to listen to him, Logan enjoyed being the one to do so, even if sometimes he pretended he didn't. The nerd and prince headed for Logan's car and said quick goodbyes to Patton, who was eager to check on Virgil.

Within a few moments Patton has discarded his backpack along with Virgil's assignments in the passenger seat and is already on the road, directions in hand. He follows them perfectly and drives a little too fast to Virgil's house. Once he pulls his baby blue Kia Rio into the driveway behind a purple jeep, he begins to get a bit nervous, but pushes past it. He's just going to give him the homework and the cookies and ask why he wasn't at school because Mr. Sanders was worried. Yeah… that's reasonable right? Not weird or creepy or anything. Patton tries to convince himself of this as he walks to the door, Virgil's work on top of the tupperware he grabbed from his backpack.

Working up the courage to knock he taps on the door da da duh-duh da da, his typical musical knock from Frozen. He hums ‘Do You Want to Build a Snowman’ for a moment but after a bit he tries again. He doesn't hum this time and instead shifts on his feet worriedly. He stares at the doorknob for a moment before testing it tentatively. It turns easily and the door gives, opening into an entryway. Patton pales slightly at the unlocked door. Due to Virgil's high anxiety that Logan had assumed he had there's no way having this door unlocked would be a normal occurrence. Patton moves forward a bit, not yet in the house and looks around.

“Virgil?” He calls waiting a moment for a panicked response or maybe a startled one. Only silence is reflected back at him. He takes a step inside, his worry overcoming his anxiousness. “Virgil…?” He calls again, closing the door behind him and walking carefully down the hall. There were no cars in the driveway save for Virgil's purple Jeep, and there for some reason is no garage. Then again the driveway is a bit longer than standard, Patton realizes Virgil must be home alone today. “Virgil? It's Patton, I came to drop off the schoolwork that you missed-”

A door opens to Patton's left on the hallway and he jumps, startled by the sudden sound. He swivels to face it and immediately chokes on whatever he was about to say. Standing in the doorway, leaning heavily on it, was Virgil. His eyes were unfocused and tired, staring through Patton rather than at him. He was covered in a sheen of sweat, and Patton quickly noticed he had no shirt on and lowered his eyes blushing fiercely.

“Oh great,” Virgil rasps “Another Patton hallucination,” He twirls a finger in the air “Not doing to confuse me this time dumbass brain, I'm going to get water and go back to sleep-” Virgil cut off, coughing roughly into his elbow, his entire body racking with the coughs. Once finished he inhales painfully and winces before moving from the doorway and stumbling to the kitchen using the wall for support, leaving a flustered Patton in his wake.

Patton, now leaning against the wall, watches Virgil leave and has half a mind to help him, but the other half has malfunctioned. Pattons head catches up with him slowly and his blush subsides, Virgil now in the kitchen down the hall where Patton can't see him. Pattons breathing slows as well as he carefully works through what just happened. Sick Virgil is home alone and thinks Patton is a hallucination. Again. Again? He said another Patton hallucination right…? That means he's… had one before- Focus. Virgil's sick. I can help.

Without another thought Patton refocuses on helping Virgil, he walks into the kitchen and finds the teen leaning dizzily on the counter with a glass of water in hand. Patton sets down the cookies and papers on the counter beside him and moves over to Virgil. Ignoring the fact that he still doesn't have a shirt on. Ignoring the way his lean muscles are visible and highlighted by the shimmer of sweat from his sickened state. Ignoring the way his chocolate eyes dully gleam with the sunlight shining through the window- IGNORING.

Patton places a hand on Virgil's head and retracts it quickly. “Virgil you're burning up!” He exclaims, “Finish drinking that water I'll be right back.” Patton hurries off, Virgil does as the hallucination told him, downing the water and waiting patiently for it to come back. Another coughing fit seizes him and when Patton does return Virgil is on the ground leaned against the cabinets. Patton comes rushing back in with a wet washcloth, having found a dry one under the sink in the downstairs bathroom. He finds Virgil on the floor swaying unsteadily and moves over to him quickly putting an arm under his shoulders and helping him up. “Virgil I'm going to help you back to your room okay just walk with me okay?” Patton moves forward and an unsteady Virgil follows, using Patton for support, still caught in a sick haze.

It's not long before they are back in the bedroom, Patton gets Virgil onto the bed and tucked into a thin sheet so that way he's not too hot. Virgil smiles softly at Patton the whole time, still thinking the encounter is a nice dream. Patton finishes fussing around Virgil's room and getting the water on his bedside table refilled and situated. Patton sits on the edge of the bed and runs a hand through Virgil's slick purple bangs, stuck to his face, moving them out of the way of his eyes gently. Virgil's lopsided smile continues and Patton chuckles at the puppylike look that he's never seen on Virgil before.

“What's that look for?” he asks, stifling a giggle.

“I just wish you would notice me like this in real life too…” He says softly, a smile still present as he looks up at Patton. Patton blinks surprised and blush rises to his face at the comment. He looks away nervously. His mind races for something to respond with, but before he can he hears soft slow breathing from the bed and turns to find Virgil fast asleep. Patton exhales and smiles slightly sadly at the asleep teen. He runs a hand through Virgil's hair again with a sigh.

“I should have approached you sooner… and said something other than just saying hi to you in the mornings…” Patton murmured to Virgil's sleeping form. Patton gets up off the bed and heads back to the kitchen, gathering all the materials to make soup for when Virgil wakes back up again. Patton works quietly in the kitchen, not wanting to wake Virgil up, he knows that it's not likely Virgil ate lunch in that state, let alone breakfast. He didn't seem to be the type to eat breakfast.

Patton finishes the soup and leaves it to cool, going back to check on Virgil and finding him upside down about to fall off the bed, snoring softly. Patton giggles and moves him back onto the bed, a hand takes Patton's wrist as he's about to get up and next thing he knows he's in the bed beside Virgil's sleeping form. Virgil has both arms wrapped around Patton's abdomen, Pattons back against Virgil's bare chest. Patton's face flushes and he stifles a squeak. He's tense and blushing deeply for a moment but after a bit he leans into Virgil's warm embrace, sighing softly his eyes flutter for a moment as he tries to stay awake. The long day of worrying at school plus the calming breathing from Virgil with him so close nearly pulled him under. That is until his phone dings from his back pocket. Pattons eyes open again and he realizes it's going to be a bit difficult to get to his phone. Patton carefully maneuvers his hand behind him, under Virgil's arm and to his back pocket, carefully pulling it out so that it doesn't wake virgil. His arm brushes against Virgil's six pack and he blushes scarlet, grabbing his phone and holding it to his chest, waiting a moment to see if he woke Virgil. The steady breathing continues and after a moment he risks a glance at his phone. 7:36. It's been nearly two hours since he got here. His gaze trails down and finds the reason for the dinging, another sound rings from his phone and he stifles it with his hand before turning it on silent. After doing so he opens the group chat message.

Logan: Hey Pat haven't heard from you in a bit, you doing okay?

Roman: Hes fine Lo, I'm sure he's just making out with the emo, give them some space

Patton manages to blush deeper as he reads the messages.

Patton: no, we're doing no such thing! but um, i need some help…

Logan: What's wrong?

Roman: Did he hurt you??????

Logan: Were on our way.

Patton: no! no i'm fine it's okay! i um, don't come here, it's just…

Roman: Just…???

Patton: um… so… how do you get out of the arms of someone who's asleep without waking them…?

Roman: WHATTTTTTTTT!?!?!? Patton, skipped a couple steps there dontcha think? [wink wink]

Patton: NO THAT'S NOT WHAT I MEAN!!

Roman: Dang Padre you work fast~

Patton: roman that's not what i mean quit!

Logan: Am I right to assume that he's sick and you accidentally got mistaken for a hallucination?

Roman: What's with that off the wall guess babe??

Logan: I had assumed he was sick earlier today and given Patton's predicament it would make sense.

Patton: um actually logan that's exactly what happened

Roman: Wow, I stand corrected

Logan: Wouldn't be the first time

Patton: right so how do i get out?

Logan: If he's asleep and sick you theoretically should be able to move without waking him. What are his symptoms if you don't mind me asking?

Patton: um, fever, dizziness i think, cough- like a really bad cough, and he's tired… oh and hallucinating i think, or at least maybe he was earlier, i'm not sure. He said something about “another patton hallucination”

Roman: Sounds like he dreams of you often~

Logan: It sounds like a bad cold, check the house for ibuprofen, it should help with the fever, the dizziness and hallucinations may be side effects of the fever and the cough is the cold. A cold wash cloth also could be beneficial. Have you removed yourself from his bed yet?

Patton shifts slightly, no he hasn't moved from Virgil's arms... He doesn't particularly want to though he probably should. Virgil needs to eat something and the soup is definitely cold by now. It should still taste fine heated up, with a quiet sigh Patton moves to slip out of his arms, Virgil shifts and his arms clutch the pillow in Patton's absence. Virgil frowns softly in his sleep and Patton pouts slightly knowing he caused that. Patton places a cool hand on Virgil's head, his head isn't warm like it was earlier, his fever must have broken. With that new information Patton smiles and turns and heads back into the kitchen.

Patton: yeppers, i got a washcloth earlier, i checked just now and i think his temperature broke, i'm going to reheat the soup i made now and see if i can get him to eat something, i doubt he's eaten anything all day seeing as he's home alone…

Roman: A tragic sick prince trapped alone in his tower! In dire need of true loves kiss from Prince Patton to wake him from his sleep~

Logan: Ignore Roman, that's good, since it broke make sure he drinks lots of water, he's going to need the fluids in his system after being sick like that. Also his parents are on a business trip so your assumption about his eating habits are most likely accurate.

Roman: How do you know his parents are on a trip???

Logan: It's all over their facebook page, apparently they leave on trips often and are rarely home

Patton: that's kindve sad… i'm bringing him soup i'll be back later

Patton takes the soup and places it back on the stove to heat back up. Finding some bowls after some searching through the cabinets he takes them and pours the soup into two of them before bringing the bowls back to Virgil's room. He finds Virgil awake in the bed looking actually awake now that his fever has broken, some of his color has returned to his skin and he's stopped sweating. He's sitting up in the bed, eyes on his phone when Patton walks in.

“Oh you're awake!” Patton exclaims with a smile.

“Patton!?!” Virgil nearly jumps out of his skin before dissolving into a rather violent coughing fit at the sudden usage of his voice.

Patton quickly sets the soups down on the nightstand and hands Virgil the water along with some cough medication he found and placed on the nightstand a while ago. “Sorry! I didn't mean to startle you…” He says as Virgil eyes him with confusion and a bit of anxiety, downing the water quickly along with some of the cough medicine. After a moment he tests his voice tentatively again.

“What are you doing here in my house- how did you- why-?” Virgil's breathing quickens and he starts coughing again, this time blushing furiously as well. Patton moves closer sitting on the bed like he was earlier, Virgil stops coughing and watches Patton anxiously.

“Zr. S and Mr. Sanders were worried about you, well mostly Mr. Sanders… he was actually planning on coming to check you out himself and stuff um but I offered to bring you your work and so, well I did and yeah so I knocked but you didn't answer or anything so well your door was unlocked and I- I wanted to make sure you were okay...” Patton rambles blushing as well. “I um- well I can leave if you are feeling better now, s-sorry kiddo!” Patton gets up quickly from the bed and turns to leave, a hand wraps quickly around Patton's wrist and he stops, turning slowly.

Virgil's hand encircles Patton's wrist carefully, as if scared if he squeezed too tight Patton would run. Virgil's eyes were trained on his hand around Pattons, a faint blush coating his features that Patton couldn’t tell if it was him being sick or him blushing because of Patton. Both were quiet for a moment. Virgil lets go of Patton's hand suddenly and speaks.

“I um- well you don’t have to leave, you just startled me…” he says quietly and leans against the back of the bed again. “Sorry.” Virgil says, glancing up to Pattons eyes for a moment before quickly falling to his phone again. The screen is black Patton notices.

“Oh.” Is all Patton can say, stepping to the side and taking the soup off the nightstand after a second. “I made soup for you.” Patton chitters excitedly handing the bowl to Virgil. Virgil's lips quirk slightly up into a small smile taking the bowl from Patton's hands.

“Thanks…” he says quietly, taking the spoon as well. Patton takes the other bowl and sits on the edge of the bed beside Virgil. Virgil dips the spoon into the soup and eats a scoop of it, mostly to please Patton who was watching him.

“Mmmm~” Virgil hums involuntarily, he snaps a hand over his mouth and blushes embarrassed. There is silence for a second before Patton giggles quietly, it quickly turns to a happy laugh and Virgil, even though embarrassed, catches the contagious laugh. Both can’t stop for a bit of time but once Virgil's laughs dissolve into coughs Patton stops and helps by getting water and giving it to him. Virgil drinks the water thankfully and Patton sits on the edge of the bed watching him to make sure he’s okay. Virgil places the water cup on the nightstand and looks up, locking eyes with Patton once more finding his eyes soft and concerned… caring. Virgil chokes on the water he was swallowing and ends up coughing again, unused to the sincerity in Patton's eyes. Or in anyone’s eyes directed at him. “S-sorry” he says coming out of the second coughing fit.

“It's okay, don't apologize for being sick! I just wish you would have told me- er someone sooner…” Patton leans down and pushes Virgil's bangs out of his eyes that had fallen back after the coughing fit. His fingers delicately brush the bangs back, his caring careful touch causing Virgil to shiver, the gentleness a forgiven feeling to him. His parents are typically gone and no students have made any effort to get to know him other than Janus and Remus, they don’t exactly do gentle things. The closest thing Virgil has gotten from them is a punch in the shoulder from Remus or a pat on the head from Janus when they're feeling generous.

Virgil leans into the touch, eyes fluttering closed for a second before he quickly snaps his head away from Patton's hand and turns his head back to the soup. Patton watches him carefully with a slight frown drawing back to where he was sitting before, taking his bowl quietly back in his lap. They eat quietly now, with each second of silence unsaid emotions continue to brew between the two. The silence presses on Virgil uncomfortably making him feel more socially anxious than usual.

“So, uh, random question, how did you get to my house?” Virgil askes tentatively, spooning soup into his mouth after asking the question. Patton perks up and looks at Virgil with a shy smile.

“Mr. Sanders printed me directions… I hope that's not weird or anything.” He says slowly, finishing his soup and fiddling with the spoon idly. Virgil just smirks slightly at his nervous behaviour.

“Nah, not weird for a teacher to print directions to a students house so that a student can come to check on another when they've missed school for a single day.” Virgil teases, patton blushers slightly.

“Yeah sorry, though it's a bit weird for you though, you have never missed a single day this year, I haven't even seen you enter class late or anything once.” Pat remarks, thinking back on past experiences through the year. Virgil raises one eyebrow and his lips quirk into a smirk.

“Have you been spying on me or something Patton?” he questions playfully, spooning the last bits of soup into his mouth. Patton stands and takes his bowl.

“Course not, Mr. Sanders said that's why he was so concerned.” He covers quickly, turning with the bowls to hide the blush he got from the question. He scampers quicker than needed into the kitchen and cleans it, all of his soup materials and the bowls clearing his head with it.

Meanwhile Virgil is left to his thoughts, tucked delicately into the sheets Patton had prepared for him before. All Virgil can think of are those eyes. The soft bright blue eyes, gazing at him with care and concern that he didn't deserve. Or at least no one seemed to think he did. No one but Patton. The cute kid in his english class. The peppy boy who constantly made Virgil smile, even on the worst of days, his cheery disposition lighting up any room he entered. That smile that couldn't be dulled by the darkest sunglasses. The freckles that seemed to light up like stars dusted across his cheeks when he was excited or happy about something. The way he loved to gush over animals, cats and dogs mostly. How he loved to talk about and share his baking with others constantly. The contagious laugh that spreads like wildfire across the room when he's content. The boy who is now in his house. In his kitchen. Oh fu<k hes in the house.

A bit of anxiety begins to creep into Virgil at the realization that his practically lifelong crush was in his house. While he was sick- he probably looked horrible! Virgil gets up from the bed quickly, his balance slightly unsteady as he moves to the bedpost, grabbing his patched purple and black hoodie off of it. He pulls it on before heading to the bathroom and applying his usual black makeup he uses to cover the constant dark spots under his eyes from his insomnia and late nighters for school.

After fixing himself and making sure his sweat pants were also presentable he makes his way into the kitchen. Patton is at the sink with his back turned to Virgil. A scenario runs through Virgil's head, in it he walks quietly to Patton and hugs Patton from behind while he washes dishes. Patton turns and with a gentle smile brings a hand to Virgil's face before kissing his cheek- Virgil snaps from his thoughts, blushing dark now, Patton seems to sense his presence and turns his head to look at him. Those sky blue eyes pierce Virgil and his heart skips a beat, Pattons gaze turns concerned, given how red Virgil is he assumes something is wrong. Before Patton can do or say anything though Virgil breaks eye contact and pivots on his heel to head for the living room, breaking off into a fit of coughs. Patton finishes and dries his hands, bringing water to Virgil for what must have been the hundredth time, though Patton didn't mind. In fact he rather liked helping Virgil- er people, not just Virgil, people in general. Patton hands the water to Virgil who drinks it quickly, mumbles a thank you and proceeds to scroll through Disney Plus. After some indecisive scrolling he settles on The Nightmare Before Christmas, it takes a moment for him to realize Patton is still standing beside the couch, his eyes on the tv in a curious way.

“I was just going to um watch a movie, it's getting a bit late Pat… you can like head home, I don't want to make you stay here or anything… Not that I am- well maybe I mean I guess I haven't said anything about you leaving yet, sorry am I making you feel trapped here… um and your parents I-”

“No.”

“...No what…?”

“You're not making me stay or feel trapped or uncomfortable, and both my parents work shifts at the hospital at this time, they won't be home till early morning...” Patton slides onto the couch beside Virgil, leaving a comfortable but close amount of space between them. Virgils quiet, unsure what to say so Patton speaks again, “I've never seen this movie you know.”

“What?? Really? It's my favorite, I had figured Prince Disney would have forced you and the nerd to watch all the movies by now.” Virgil remarks, ignoring how close together they are on the couch and staring straight through the screen, rather than at it.

“Prince Disney… oh are you talking about Roman?” Pattons airy laugh fills the room and Virgil feels heat rise to his neck just hearing it. “Well he does like to watch disney movies but I haven't gotten around to every movie he's wanted me to watch yet.” Patton chuckles and Virgil starts to hum to ‘This Is Halloween’ absentmindedly thinking.

“So you're usually busy then?” Virgil inquires hesitantly after a moment. Patton sinks into the seat some at the question.

“Uhh yeah… usually I'm doing work for classes or baking… It typically takes me a while to do homework, I don't focus very well and it's difficult to understand some topics. Logan helps me sometimes, but a lot of times I don't want to bother him… he's usually with Roman or doing his own work...” Patton replies slowly, a bit embarrassed from admitting that fact.

“I could help.” Virgil says before his mind catches up with his words, Patton turns his eyes from the screen and looks at Virgil with a hopeful expression, his eyes shining.

“Really??” He asks in response, Virgil breaks eye contact with Patton fiddling with one of the rings on his fingers.

“I mean- well yeah… I don't really have plans,” Ever, he considers adding but decides against it, “I'm usually just... here, doing school work and watching movies and stuff… my parents aren't exactly home often so…” I'm lonely, once again he decides not to add what his mind ads for him. Pattons hopeful expression kicks up excitement, his blue eyes twinkling with it.

“Thank you!!! I mean you don't have to or anything I- I understand If you don't want to help me or something or if you don't really mean it-” Patton rambles quickly, Virgil cuts him off.

“No- Pat it's fine, I want to help.” he says, a shy yet sure smile crossing his lips. Pattons eyes shine with happy unshed tears, before Virgil can blink Patton quickly throws his arms around him with a happy squeal. The unexpected hug sends Virgil falling against the couch, Patton not even noticing as he hugs Virgil tightly. Virgil lands against the couch with an oof and blushes fiercely a reaction to the gesture.

Patton detaches himself from Virgil once realizing what happened and finds himself positioned directly above those coco brown eyes and flushed pale face, Pattons hands at either side of his head. Virgil stares up at Patton unmoving, and Patton stares back, just as still. Patton has the urge to apologize again but the words die in his throat as Virgil's eyes flash with something Patton doesn't recognize seeing in those brown eyes before. Courage.

Driven by a sudden impulse, Virgil leans up from the couch and joins Patton's lips with his, Pattons eyes flutter shut after a split second of surprise, leaning into the kiss he's been imagining ever since he first saw the dark mysterious teen at school. Virgil's hands find their way to Pattons waist and linger there at his sides, Pattons moving to Virgil's hair as they sink back against the couch together. After a moment their lips part and they look at each other. Neither say a word, staring into eachothers eyes, infatuated by the lingering taste of the kiss on each of their lips.

Virgil is the first to respond, his mind catches up with him and his fight or flight response kicks in. His eyes go wide in realization of what he just did and he blushes, fiery red climbing from his neck to his face at an impossible rate. Panic floods his system as he decides flight.

“S-Sorry! Oh god- fu<k- I didn't- sorry you probably didn't want to- I- Patton I'm sorry- I didn't mean to- Patton you um- fu<k you should go- I made you uncomfortable- I don't know what got into me- now you could be sick- sh!t-” He sputters covering his face with his hands and wishing he could sink into the couch and just disappear. He feels Patton's warmth move from his chest, a spike of sadness quickly drives itself into his heart at its absence. He bites his lip and chews on it, his hands still covering his face as he chokes back the lump starting to form in his throat.

D@mn!t he fu<ked up- why does he even try- why did he ruin everything, he could have at least been friends with patton… he was excited to get school help- I was excited to help him! And here I go- everything I touch gets fu<ked up- it's better if he leaves anyways… Everyone always leaves, it's nothing new...

Virgil's thoughts spiral quickly in his head, chastising him and making him feel increasingly worse about the situation while Patton sits on the couch. Pattons eyes have shifted from awestruck to empathetic, Virgil lies there shaking, his hands covering his face as he spews apologies and stammers incoherent sentences. Patton reaches over and carefully takes Virgil's hands from his face, holding them in his. Virgil quiets and so does his head, watching Patton, still shaking. Patton squeezes Virgil's hands with a soft comforting smile, the smile shifts to nervous and Patton looks down at their hands.

“You didn't make me uncomfortable… and um… actually I did want to…” Patton looks back up and meets Virgil's eyes. “I liked it.” He says quietly. Virgil blinks, once… twice, his expression unreadable. Virgil's hands move in Patton's, shifting until their palms are together and their fingers are intertwined, eyes still locked. A gentle fondness finds its way into Virgil's gaze, his panic subsiding. Virgil hears the song that has taken the movie in the background and smiles softly at Patton, his voice syncing with Sallys as he sits up carefully to face Patton properly.

“And does he notice…”

Virgil's right hand separates from Pattons and makes its way to Pattons cheek, caressing it gently, his thumb sweeps back and forth as the uncertainty he was feeling earlier fades, only to be replaced by a confidence he rarely ever feels.

“My feelings for him?”

Pattons free hand slides against Virgil's hand against his cheek as Patton gazes into his fond chocolate eyes. A look Patton has been craving to see from him for a while now.

“And will he see”

Virgil moves closer on the couch, their knees now touching, the space between the two becoming increasingly smaller until the two are right in front of each other. Breathing the same air, noses brushing delicately against each other.

“How much he means to me?”

Patton closes the distance this time, meeting in the center as Virgil's voice fades on the last word of that line. The two kiss again. This time different, less surprised, more intentional. Their lips meeting more than once, continuously coming together and breaking apart, longer kisses savored and shorter ones filled with longing. Patton moves his hand from virgils and shifts closer, Virgil taking Patton carefully into his lap and holding him close as they continue to kiss. Virgil's arms around Patton making him feel secure and wanted. Safe. Patton in Virgil's arms making him feel needed, valued and worth something.

The two part again, both breathless and dazed, foreheads resting on each other, eyes closed. After a moment Virgil bites his lip, speaking hesitantly.

“Are you sure-” Patton silences him with another kiss.

“Yes.” He says, soft yet still certain.

“Okay…” Virgil whispers breathlessly. Without another word Patton lays his head on Virgil's shoulder and the two finish the movie together. Virgil holds Patton close, one hand trailing gently over his back while the other lies intertwined with one of Pattons.

Once it ends, neither bother to mess with Disney Plus as it switches to Tangled, one of Patton's favorites, Virgil soon learns by Pattons knowledge of every word. Patton also expresses this by Singing all the words happily and expressing ecstatic excitement over dashing dark rouge that's Flynn Rider. Virgil mimics the smoulder to Pattons sheer delight, his laughter fills Virgil's heart and they end up kissing again, the night passing quickly as they watch Tangled. They duet ‘Now I see the Light’ together, and as it ends dissolve into yet another kiss shared between the two. Patton gets Virgil more water and the cookies he had made earlier that day, Virgil eating one before devouring a few others after realizing one wasn't enough. What? Patton's baking was goooooood. Plus Virgil has quite the sweet tooth for someone so dark and gloomy. Patton giggles at how quickly he eats them, having a cookie himself before they disappear. Virgil's eyes start to droop as fatigue weighs on him, Patton too stifles a yawn and curls up with Virgil once more, this time laying on the couch with him, his glasses on the coffee table. Virgil's head propped on the armrest with a pillow, Patton tucked against his chest, his back against the couch they watch as Aladdin plays next. Virgil is asleep before Arabian night ends, his chest rising and falling slowly against Patton's back as he watches the movie unfold, it's not long before he's asleep as well, falling victim to Virgil's warm embrace and the sweet symphony of ‘A Whole New World.’

@crazydemigod666 @hamatobrothers @leinahtan @peanut-butter-and-theatre @analogical-spacegays @squippydraws @thefanficbooktuber

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puppywritings · 4 years ago

Text

set up

pairing: qian kun x male reader

word count: 1,576

decription: your boss had been pestering you about meeting her gay son for a while. little did she know, the two of you knew each other all too well.

a/n: no outright smut but definitely some 18+ themes!!

masterlist

You couldn’t really complain about your workplace. There was a window by your desk, which gave you a decent view of the city; there was an esteemed bakery right next door; your boss and coworkers were all respectable and kind enough. If you had to pinpoint one thing that irked you, however, it was your boss’ frequent inclinations to set you up with her son. She was a friendly and polite person, and it would be amiss to say that you disliked her - she was nice to chat with, and she reminded you of your mother, in a way. There was just something about it that vexed you when she brought up her son in that way. Primarily, it bothered you that she likely only thought to set the two of you up because you were both gay. But, additionally, meeting a partner through their mother seemed to you like a somewhat awkward way for a relationship to begin.

“Hi, Y/N,” she stopped by your desk to speak to you on her way out of the office, just as you were packing your things to leave for the day. “You will be at the party tonight, right?” The annual Christmas party that your office held.

“Of course,” you confirmed with a nod. “Wouldn’t miss it.”

She beamed in response. “That’s great. Because I’m bringing my son along, and I’ve been dying for the two of you to meet.”

You suppressed the urge to groan, or sigh, or even sob. “Oh, really, there’s no need-”

She cut you off, “You don’t need to worry, Y/N, I know the two of you are going to hit it off. And, by the way, he’s heard all about you, too.”

“Alright,” you mumbled in resignation, finding it rather difficult to remain polite as you forced a smile. “I’ll see you tonight.”

You waited until she had left before you threw your head into your hands. There was nothing at all that could prepare you for the awkward encounter that was to come.

***

As you sipped your drink, you eyed the room. Thus far, you had miraculously managed to avoid crossing paths with your boss, and in conjunction, her son. When you made accidental and unwanted eye contact with her across the room, though, you supposed you would be unable to maintain this avoidance much longer. With a wave in your direction, she began to navigate the crowd of your coworkers and their friends, making her way towards you.

You brushed your clothes with a sniff - why were you so anxious? You had opted for a dark paisley-print shirt with a pair of black skinny trousers; not too casual, nor excessively formal. Looking at your outfit now, however, you were doused with uncertainties, and you were wondering if perhaps you should have ironed your shirt more thoroughly. Undesired as this introduction was, you were being set up with someone, technically. Maybe you should’ve taken this more seriously.

“Y/N,” your boss greeted you with a wide smile that told you how much she’d already had to drink that night. “Good to see you.”

“You too,” you reciprocated, fabricating a smile that you hoped would mask your mostly unnecessary nerves.

“Sweetie!” She beckoned to somebody behind you. “Come meet Y/N.”

You turned to see a figure approaching you and your boss. It just so happened that he had taken a sip of his drink as you turned to look at him, and when his eyes met yours, he promptly began to choke on the swig he had taken. You felt your cheeks flush scarlet, and you desperately hoped that your boss was tipsy enough to miss the recognition that passed between the two of you.

You knew your boss’ son all too well.

***

You didn’t go out to bars all that often, and definitely not alone. When you did fancy a drink - particularly a solo drink - you much preferred to drink in the comfort of your own home. There was something about that night, though, that the thought of being completely alone made you feel a little uneasy. Although it hadn't worked out too well; sitting at the bar knocking back your drink, surrounded by strangers all engrossed in their own conversations, you felt as alone as ever.

“Mind if I sit?”

You glanced up, surprised, to verify that the question had in fact been directed to you. A handsome boy with full lips and thick eyebrows was looking down at you with a questioning gaze.

“Go ahead,” you confirmed, somewhat taken aback. “What are you drinking?”

“Uh, rum and coke?”

You nodded, before hailing the bartender and requesting two rum and cokes. You smiled wryly as the man took his first sip and winced - it was an endearing mannerism. Perhaps it was due to your newfound company, or perhaps it was just the alcohol in your system taking effect, but you felt your mood lift, ever so slightly.

“My name’s Y/N,” you introduced yourself, extending your hand towards him. When he shook it, you noticed how unexpectedly soft his hands were.

“Kun,” he returned.

“Nice to meet you, Kun,” you spoke, trying out his name in your mouth. It felt nice.

“The pleasure is all mine,” he flirted, a genuine smile decorating his face. “So, what’s a nice boy like you doing all alone in a place like this?”

“It’s just been one of those days,” you explained vaguely.

Kun nodded, not wanting to pry. “Allow me to take your mind off it,” he offered with a small smile.

Why not? You shrugged. “You can try.”

He raised his glass, and you clinked your own against it gently, before taking a healthy sip. The night was young, you decided. You would give him a chance to lift the dark fog that shrouded you.

***

Several drinks later - maybe four, maybe five, possibly even more, but you had lost count - you found yourself in fits of laughter with this stranger, who didn’t really feel like a stranger any more.

“Y/N, hey,” Kun spoke, his laughter dying. He reached out his hand, placing it gently on top of your own. “Do you want to come back to my place?”

You hesitated for a moment. “I don’t usually do this.” It was true; you weren’t experienced in the art of casual sex. Regardless of this, you didn’t want to say no this time.

His eyes were focused on your lips as he spoke. “Neither do I. But this is different. I feel so drawn to you.”

You had to agree. Maybe it was just the rum, but somehow you doubted it. Something inside him called to something inside you.

“Let’s go,” you agreed with a smile. He slammed back what was left of his drink then stood, taking your hand and leading you out into the cool night air.

***

In the months following that initial meeting, the two of you had stayed in touch. You had met up from time to time, although these encounters were primarily for sexual purposes. You two were compatible; you got along well, there were no complications and your relationship was free of drama. It just never crossed into romantic territory. He was always a call (or a sext) away when you had urges, but there was nothing soft or fluffy going on. You were friends with benefits, and nothing more.

And that brought you back to the office party. You, your boss, and Kun - who was apparently your boss’ son, and who was currently choking on his drink, which you thought was rather appropriate, given the situation.

“Are you okay?” your boss asked her son, concern knitting her eyebrows together.

“Yeah, Mom. I’m fine,” Kun coughed, giving her a rather convincing smile. You already knew how charming he was, and you weren’t surprised to find that his charismatic tricks worked on his own mother.

“I’ll let you boys get to know each other,” she beamed at you, before leaving.

You used every ounce of your restraint to hold back your laughter until she was out of earshot.

“Oh my god,” Kun gasped between laughs.

“Oh my god, that was so awkward,” you agreed, wiping a stray tear from your eye.

“That was the most awkward situation I’ve ever been in!” Kun admitted. “I can’t believe this.”

Neither of you could get over the novelty of the situation. “For months my boss has been telling me I’d be great for her son. And this whole time I’ve been jacking off to pictures of his dick.”

“This is insane,” Kun remarked with a shake of his head. Your laughter broke off, leaving a calm lull in the conversation as you both smiled. “It’s good to see you, though,” Kun spoke genuinely.

“Yeah,” you agreed. “You too.”

Kun cleared his throat before speaking. “Maybe... maybe we should let her set us up, go on a few dates. Just to keep her happy.”

You nodded with a smirk. “Right, just to keep her happy. Not because you have a crush on me or anything.”

Kun smiled bashfully. “Well, you are pretty hot.”

“Well, unfortunately for you I am not that easy. You’ll have to take me out for dinner first.”

Kun laughed, and his cheeks began to glow lightly. “Dinner sounds good.”

You stepped forwards, pressing a chaste kiss to his cheek.

“By the way,” Kun suggested, “Let’s not tell my mom we already knew each other.”

"Wouldn’t dream of it.”

#qian kun #kun #nct #wayv #kpop #kpop imagines #kpop x male reader #male reader #kpop scenarios #kpop lgbt #kpop mlm #wayv imagines #kun x male reader #nct x male reader #nct x reader

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birdsandspades · 4 years ago

Text

I Get A Kick Out Of You (A Bakugou Oneshot)

-Pro hero Bakugou and you are on a mission to the past. How will they navigate a day in 1959, will they even find the guy they are after. Maybe a movie, milkshake, and some dancing will help them get to the bottom of it.

Word Count - 6,069

-As you can imagine I Get A Kick Out Of You by Frank Sinatra inspired this, and also the need to go dancing with Bakugou. I had a lot of fun writing this, I hope you like it!

—-

“Alright, so you two know who you’re looking for?” The chief of police handed you a manila folder, looking between you and your partner as you stepped onto the platform.

You nodded, “I’m sure someone like Cryptid will stick out in a crowd.” You looped your arm through the one next to you, pulling them closer. Your other hand pulling down your visor on your helmet.

“Let’s just get this shit over, I fucking hate traveling…” Bakugou groaned, trying to pull away from your hold as he clipped the latch closed on his own.

The chief took a step back, giving you a brief nod. “I expect you back here tomorrow, don’t be messing around. We don’t want anyone noticing you two are from the future.”

“Don’t worry, i’ll keep Bakugou in check!” You tugged him back, gloved fingers digging into his jumpsuit.

“You’ll do what?” He was jolted forward, space and time quite literally bending around him as he clung onto your arm for dear life. Everything around him moved at a dizzying pace. Life itself rewinding as he stood in the middle of it all. Buildings deconstructing, days winding back, people retracing their own steps as they moved back to their very beginnings.

All at once it stopped. Bakugou clutching your arm, fistfuls of your suit in his hands as he tried to steady the shaking in his knees. It all rushed up, breakfast. He pushed you away, throwing off his helmet as he keeled over. This always happened.

You soothed your hand over his back, cooing as you shifted the backpack off your shoulder. “Bakugou you ok?”

“No, I’m not ok. Your quirk fucking sucks!” He stood up, wiping his mouth.

You offered him a water bottle, his feverish hands snatching it before you could even utter a word.

“Well, looks like we made it ok..ish. I think we can change out of our travel suits back here before heading to the street.” You pulled out a shirt from your bag, looking around the alleyway. You were behind some kind of group of restaurant, the street just ahead. People rushed past as they went about the day. You had arrived, 1959 Boston, Massachusetts.

Bakugou had collected himself enough, leaning back against a parked pontiac. “So where is this asshole?”

“The file says somewhere in this suburban area.” You turned back to him, handing him the file. “They marked some places on the map, we spotted him in a few newspaper clippings all dated for today. So we just need to hit up every location until we see him.”

He nodded along, flipping through the pages. “So what are we staging as this time?”

Everytime you went to a new time you always had an act set up. Something to help you blend in as you went about the mission. Sometimes it was siblings, sometimes total strangers. It all depended on the mission.

“A teenage couple out on the town!” You beamed, pulling out Bakugou’s disguise.

“What the fuck is this shit!” He took the bright striped button up, nose wrinkling in disgust. “And the pants, what asshole would wear these?” He ripped the bright blue pleated slacks from your other hand.

“You will.” You layed out your own outfit on the back of the Bonneville, a knee length full cherry red skirt, and a white cotton button up. The typical fashion of a 50’s teen, you had done your research.

“This is the last time I let you pick out this shit. I should have told you to fuck off after those bellbottom pants last time!.” He complained, unlacing his boots.

“Hey! Those were amazing pants you asshole!.” You kicked off your own shoes, pulling off your socks.

“They were fucking pink y/n, baby fucking pink.” He unzipped his suit, letting it slide down his back.

“You just have no taste in fashion Bakugou.” You unzipped your own, shimmying it down your shoulders.

“Hey!” He turned around, face red as he caught sight of your exposed back.

“Turn around!” You screamed, covering yourself.

He did as asked, chuckling. “I have plenty of fashion taste.” He stepped out of the suit pants, throwing it towards the open bag.

“Yeah, whatever you say fanny pack.” You were tucking in your shirt into your skirt, feet slipping into your white kitten heels.

“Why do you always bring up that fucking fanny pack, it was one time!” He buttoned the last button on his shirt, tugging at the crotch of his pants. They were too high, sitting just under his belly button. The shirt was comfortable enough, way too bright for what he usually wore. The red, yellow, white and blue stripes ran vertically along the short sleeve, all fighting for space on the small print. “Why are these pants so fucking high up?” He pulled at the material again, turning around to complain to you. He stopped, eyes wandering over you as you smoothed over your hair. A smile tried it’s best to pull at his permanent frown, and it almost won. But you just had to talk.

“What?” You glared, brushing off your skirt.

“You look stupid.” He spat, walking over to shove his helmet into the backpack.

“Asshole, I’m putting in for a new partner when we get back.” You grabbed the bag from him, zipping it closed. You threw it in a box by a dumpster, safe until you returned.

“Yeah you always say that. But guess who’s still here.” He ruffled your hair, pushing your head away as he walked ahead of you.

You ran to catch up, eyes going wide as you stepped onto the open street. You had been almost everywhere at this point, seen almost everything. But this, this was something else. You looked down the street, cars parked along the buildings in every pastel color you could think off. Teens walked past, laughing as they enjoyed their Saturday out of school. You could hear the newest Ray Charles record playing from the store across the street, What’d I Say, an absolute classic. A group of boys ran out of the front door with penny candy in hand, pushing through a group of women waiting outside a newspaper stand next door. It was simple, quirkless.

“Hey idiot, where are we going?” Bakugou nudged you, giving you a judgement look.

“Oh, um. The first place marked is called Pam’s. It says it’s a restaurant. He was photographed outside in a picture submitted for a photo contest in the newspaper…” You turned the map over in your hand, trying to make out the lines from the line? This was all starting to look the same.

Bakugou pulled the map from your hands, folding it as he pointed down the road. “That fucking Pam’s?” He gave you an angry smile, shoving the map into his back pocket.

You returned the look, grabbing his arm. “Well let’s go smartass.” You walked together down the road towards the dinner, couples passing by. They held hands, leaning against one another as they talked. Smiles bright, love in their eyes.

You looked between Bakugou’s clenched fist and your own empty hand before scowling.

“What is that ugly face for?” He looked ahead, not sparing you a glance.

“Were supposed to be a couple, hold my hand like that.” You pointed to the couple exiting the dinner doors.

“No, we’re already here. Now fuck off.” He held the door open for you, watching as you walked under his arm.

“Two?” The lady smiled from over the counter, wiping her hands on her apron.

“Yeah please.” You nodded.

“Follow me hun.” She lifted up the flip top, walking you both down the rows of red and white booths. She stopped at one by the back of the diner setting down two menus. “I’ll be back in a jiffy.”

You slid into the plush seat, Bakugou sitting across you. He took a menu, pushing the other to you as he looked over the burgers.

“What are you getting?” He looked over the top of the laminated sheet, already decided.

“I think just a shake, and maybe some of your fries…?” You set down your own, smiling innocently.

“Get your own fucking…” He was cut short, your server walking back up to the table.

“Decided yet?” She pulled out a pen and pad, looking between the two of you.

“I’ll have a cheeseburger and fries.” Bakugou handed her the menu, eyes squinting as he looked over at you.

He was daring you to say it.

“And i’ll have a strawberry shake.” You smiled at the women, handing her your own menu.

“No food?” She clicked the pen, folding the menus under her arm.

Bakugou glared your way, shaking his head.

He just wanted you to say it.

“No thank you.” You turned to face him, smirking. “I’ll just share with him.”

He sank in his seat as the waitress walked away. “You always do this shit. You’re going to eat all my fries again.”

He was right, you probably were.

You leaned over the table, rolling your eyes at the temper tantrum about to ensure. “Stop crying, we aren’t here to eat. We have to find Cryptid, so keep an eye out.

“What did he even steal again, some stupid blueprints?” Bakugou turned his head, looking over the occupied tables.

“Yeah if by some stupid blueprints you mean the one for the bomb they were planning on sticking under UA.” You greeted the couple passing by before turning back to your partner.

“That quirk eradicating thing?” He sat back in his seat, folding his arms over his chest.

“Yeah, the one Chisaki was making. Something like that would deviate the school.” You sat up, the waitress approaching with your order.

“Here you go honey, one cheeseburger. And a strawberry shake, two straws.” She winked your way before leaving to attend to another table.

“Two fucking straws, why would you need two straws?” Bakugou frowned at the shake, picking up his burger.

You looked behind him, cheeks heating up. The couple leaned over the table, forehead pressed together as they sipped from their shake. The same shake, two straws. You cleared your throat, pulling the glass closer. “I don’t know…”

Bakugou gave you a weird look, turning around in the booth. “That, that’s what’s got you so worked up?” He pointed a thumb towards the booth, chuckling as you sipped your shake.

“No, it’s not like we have to share the fucking thing. Eat your food and shut up…” You tried to hide the flush creeping up your skin.

“What if I want some?” He smirked, you didn’t hide it well enough.

“Then you can drink it without me attached to it…”

“Hey baby, your date here giving you trouble?” A tall man pressed his hands on the table top, eyes glued on you. His friends leaned against the bar top a few tables behind snickering.

“Oh no thank yo…” You looked across the table, Bakugou’s fingers digging into the wooden sides.

“Because if he is, I wouldn’t mind sitting with you.” He leaned down, blocking your view of Bakugou’s contorting face.

“I’m fine, no thank yo…” You could see small glimpses of Bakugou’s face over the man’s shoulder darting back and forth as he tried to see around him.

“It’s a shame, I would sit with you. Maybe share that…”

Bakugou stood up, pushing past the man as he shoved himself into you. He slid the both of you further into the booth, grabbing the shake from your hands. “Fuck off, it’s my straw.” He took a drink from your shake, glaring as the man walked off.

“Hey! Don’t drink all of it!” You ripped the shake from his hands, setting it down on the far side of the table.

“I don’t see the guy, let’s just go to the next location before some other fuckwad comes over.” He frowned, throwing some money on the table.

“I want to finish this.” You frowned, picking up the shake to take a drink.

Bakugou watched you taking small sips from the straw, groaning loudly. “Jesus let me help you with that grandma.” He took the other straw, lips connecting with the plastic as his forehead brushed yours.

You could have sworn you saw a hint of pink brush his cheeks, but all thoughts of that were erased when his crimson eyes met yours.

“Stop looking at me with that ugly face…” Bakugou pulled away, rubbing the back of his neck. “Can we just get going already?” He grabbed your hand, tugging you out of the booth.

You watched as he pulled you along, staring at his hand tightly wrapped around yours. Bakugou had never been one to get jealous easily. But maybe he was just playing the part well today.

“Where are we going next?”

“The next picture is of the movie theater. It’s opening night for The Mummy, they got him in the shot of the crowd lined up.” You rushed behind him, feet dragging behind you as he pulled you out of the restaurant.

“Well let’s go, I want to get this over with. These pants are riding up in places pants shouldn’t be.”

You groaned loudly, you didn’t need to know that.

You walked behind Bakugou to the theater, his hand still wrapped around your own. His pace had slowed down once you left the diner, but the tension in his shoulder reamined, tightly wound as he stomped his way across the street.

Passerbys watched in horror as he trudged up to the ticket booth. Were you in need of help, who was this gorilla of a man dragging you behind him. You apologized as he pushed through the line, angry looks following you as he aggressively shoved a bill into the ticket slot.

“Two tickets for that.” He pointed to the poster, glaring at the teller.

The man pushed the change and the tickets through the slot without another word, relaxing once Bakugou mumbled and groaned his way into the building.

“Hey hot head, you’re drawing too much attention. If you’re not careful you may set off your quirk.” You harshly whispered into his ear as he walked up to the concession stand, his hand dampening in your own.

You knew him well enough to know that the angry he got, the more prone he was to slip ups.

You pushed past him to the front of the counter. “What do you want hangry? I’ll buy it.”

Bakugou huffed, pointing to the bag of atomic fireballs.

“Can I get a bag of those, a popcorn, and a coke please.” You hand the lady at the register a few dollars as another worker prepared your snacks. “Thank you.” You took the popcorn from the counter and the soda, leaving the candy for Bakugou to grab as you walked down the hallway to the theater.

“You shouldn’t be so nice when people are bothering you F/N.” Bakugou mumbled behind you, more aggravated than mad now.

“We have a mission, I can’t just tell people to fuck off Katsuki. Trust me I would have loved to…” You added, pushing open the door.

He stared at you, shaking his head. A small smile tugging at his lips as he walked down the aisle behind you. You were something else.

You sat down a few rows back, Bakugou sitting beside you as he took the popcorn from your lap. “So we just hang out here and wait for him to show up?”

“Yeah, he came to this show. He should be here somewhere.” You took a sip of your soda, watching as the seats filled up around you.

“I don’t see him F/N.” Bakugou leaned in to whisper in your ear, the lights turning off as the movie started.

“He’s here. Just give it some time.” You leaned up against his shoulder, settling against him as you watched the movie.

Bakugou wanted to protest, you were on a mission. But letting you lay against him like this wouldn’t hurt, just for a little bit.

Soon a good portion of the movie had gone by, your popcorn bucket empty as you reached your hand inside.

“Katsuki, i’m going to get more.” You shook the empty popcorn bucket, standing up.

He nodded, eyes glued on the screen. He was enthralled.

You slid past him into the aisle way, making your way out into the theater hallways. You walked back up to the concession stand, waiting your turn as the line moved forward.

You looked over the room, doing a double take at the front door. The man turned around, the same familiar weasley features you had been looking at all day.

He made eye contact with you, eyes going wide as you stepped out of the line. He looked around before booking it out of the theater, pushing over a few men as he ran out onto the street.

You chased after him out the door, watching him run down the street towards the roller rink. “Shit.” You cursed, walking back into the theater. You rushed down the hallways, pushing the theater door open as you walked over to Bakugou.

“Katsuki, I saw Cryptid. We have to go.” You leaned over his shoulder, turning his attention away from the screen.

“You saw him?” He stood up, people yelling from behind him to sit down. He put two hands over your ears, glaring at the people behind him.

You watched him shout, unable to hear a thing through his hands. People threw popcorn, angrily yelling back from the looks on their faces. Bakugou pulled you out of the theater, people booing him as he pushed you out of the doors.

“What did you say?” You looked at him, eyes going wide. You had heard him say some vulgar things, but never anything that had warranted that kind of reaction.

“I ruined the ending.” He looked around the theater, eyes landing on you again. “Where did he go?”

“Oh! The roller rink, I chased him out of the theater and he ran down the road.” It was now your turn to pull him behind you, tugging the blonde along as you ran out of the theater and towards the roller rink.

“You chased after him. F/N you should have just come and got me.” Bakugou contested, his fingers slipping from your grip. He always had a problem with getting sweaty when he got worked up, and the thought of you running off alone after a villain was making his heart race. He laced his fingers with your, a better alternative that would keep him attached to you.

“I did come get you, but he saw me and took off. I didn’t want to lose him…” You slowed to a stop outside the roller rink doors. It was already getting dark outside, the sun starting to set behind the skyline. You would have to catch him here, if you took any longer you were going to run out of options.

You walked up to the shoe counter at the front of the building, stepping up on the platform as you waited for someone to come out.

“Hey folks, welcome in! No rollerskates tonight, we close down for dancing on Saturdays, but you’re welcome to head on in!” A younger gentleman popped his head out of the office door, pointing towards the roller floor.

“Let’s just take a look around, he may be hiding in the group.” You thanked the man, walking behind Bakugou to the crowd of teenagers below.

“I am not dancing.” He turned to you, shaking his head slowly. It was his one rule on missions, no dancing. He hated it, hated the attention. It was a useless skill and he didn’t want to waste time doing it, especially on a mission.

“Katsuki I know you hate it, but we are going to stick out just standing here. Let’s just do one song, work our way through the crowd. If we don’t see him we can leave.” You pleaded with him. The mass of people was thick, too thick to see everyone inside it. You would have to sift through them to even get to the other side of the building.

“No, i’m not saying it again. You can go find someone else to dance with you in that shit.” He folded his hands over his chest. He didn’t mean that, he would probably knock anyone who touched you’s teeth out, let alone let them hold onto you for a whole three minutes.

“Katsuki, if we don’t catch this guy we will fail this mission. Do you want to fail the mission?”

He groaned, throwing his hands up. He hated dancing, he hated seeing people touch you, he hated that look you were giving him. But he absolutely despised failing a mission, the paperwork was atrocious.

He took your hand, practically throwing you onto the dance floor as he trudged behind you. Can it just be a slow dance, something simple and easy.

The music changed, the beginning notes of In the Mood started. The mass of people opened, each couple their own space as everyone settled into the beat of the trumpets. It was swing, a form of dance he sadly knew well.

Bakugou had been cursed at birth with parents who loved more refined things in life. He from a young age was introduced to piano, male fashion, and dancing. Stupid fucking dancing. His parents made him take classes until he started at UA, they said it would help him in becoming a great hero one day. He had taken a liking to swing early on, it was something he could see himself using in his training one day.

He did in fact see a difference in his hand to hand combat skills after he got the technique down, but fuck him. He was actually going to have to use it for its original purpose.

“Do you even know how to swing?” He groaned, taking your hand.

“A little, we practiced it for fun during ballet.” You leaned in, placing a hand on his shoulder.

He had forgotten about your musical upbring, you had suffered through almost as much as he did.

“Just don’t fall on your ass…” Bakugou started to move his feet, he would take it easy for your sake.

You mirrored him, holding onto his hand tight as he swung you around.

He rolled his eyes, shaking his head. You couldn’t help but giggle, beaming as you danced around the hall.

He wanted to complain, but you looked so happy. It was rubbing off on him, that bubbly feeling of just being in the moment with you.

“Want to try something?” He yelled over the music, lifting his arm to twirl you.

“Yes!” You shouted, smiling as you came around.

He let go of one hand, swinging you out. He reeled you back in, his free hand coming under you back as he swung you to one side, then the other as you did a full roll over his shoulder. Your feet touched back down on the ground as he spun you out again.

You laughed, absolutely shocked. “The girls in my class were never strong enough to do that.” You took his other hand again as he chuckled.

“You’re a lot easier to dance with compared to the old hag that taught me.”

You very seldom saw this side of Bakugou, the soft side of him. The happy side. He had been assigned to you as a partner years ago because of a broadcasting incident. The poor man was always so wound up, a ball of nerves. It was only a matter of time before he punched a cameraman for getting in his face. You were a low contact hero, someone who worked behind the scenes. Hell you honestly never got recognized for what you even did. It seemed like a match made in heaven, a quiet hero looking for a partner, and a hotheaded pro looking to get out of the spotlight.

It started as a punishment, something to cool his head for a month or two. He went on a few missions with you, nothing too far back. But the anger and tension practically melted off the guy every time you went out. He liked it, the lack of pressure. No one knew who he was, no one expected anything of him. He could just be a hero, just save the day. No reports, no news casts, no civilians screaming at him.

You were his only concern, to keep you safe. You never expected him to do anything more. Before long he had asked to be assigned to you. It was a demotion honestly, he was one of the top 10 heroes after all. But most day’s it felt like he was everyone’s favorite punching bag. Not even a hero in society’s eyes, just the person they loved to hate. But you, you never did that. Sure you would argue with him, and he had to admit it was fun to have someone who was just as snappy as he was around. But you never blamed him, never accused him, never labeled him.

He was just Katsuki Bakugou to you, and maybe Ground Zero when he was being an asshole.

The song ended, everyone easing to a stop around the dance floor. A good section of the group made their way off the dance floor, breaking for water.

Bakugou looked around the room as he took a deep breath. “Now’s the best chance to find the guy.”

You nodded, the next song starting. You turned to walk off the dance floor, a warm hand wrapping around your wrist.

“Hey, where are you going? You won’t be able to see him from up there.” He pulled you back, resting a hand on your hip.

“I thought we agreed on one song?” You tilted your hand, letting your hand fall on his shoulder.

“You said it yourself, we’re going to have to work our way through the crowd.” He took a step back, swaying with the music.

You opened your mouth to protest, just smiling instead. You laid your head on his shoulder, scanning the crowd behind him. Why not kill two birds with one stone.

Bakugou did the same, leaning his head against your own. He looked for the uncommon top of silver white hair. Cryptid blended in with the people back home, but here his look was uncommon. He had gotten his name from how easily he disappeared into a crowd, almost as if he had never been there at all. But he had made the mistake of traveling too far back in time. The gene pools were smaller, more predictable. No one had bright hair, unnatural eyes, quirks.

“Hey man, what do you think you’re doing!”

You lifted your head up, turning towards the sound of commotion coming from the front shoe desk.

A man was chasing someone out the front doors, “That guy stole my wallet!”

You looked at Bakugou before running off the dance floor and out the roll rink doors. Cryptid stood across the street, his eyes locked onto yours as he took off down the alley behind him.

You tried to run after him, Bakugou grabbing your arm as a car passed by. “Do you want to get hit?” He yelled, tugging you back.

You watched the villain disappear between the rushing cars. You sighed in defeat, this guy was pretty good at this vanishing stuff.

“We can just catch him at the next location.” Bakugou frowned.

“Yeah…” You reached for his back pocket, patting only fabric. You turned him around, patting at his ass.

“Fuck F/N, stop touching my ass!” He slapped your hand away, his face growing hot.

“Katsuki, where is the map? You had it last.” You looked at him, panic growing. Without that map you had no way of knowing where he would be next in this massive city.

“I put it in my back pocket…” He patted the space, eyes widening. “When did I lose it?”

“You took it from me before me went to Pam’s…it could be anywhere…” You sat down on the side of the road, pedestrians staring as they walked past.

“Do you remember where he went next?” Bakugou sat down next to you, rubbing his temples.

“No, because someone took the map from me when I was looking at it.” You glared over at him, mood souring.

“Well fuck F/N, do you remeber anything we can use?” He complained, scowling at the empty alleyway.

“Maybe…I remember seeing something about a stolen car found on the top of the hill. It was supposed to be an extra tip just in case.”

“It’s worth a try, get up.” He offered you a hand, pulling you to your feet.

“What are you doing? We won’t be able to walk all the way there.” You followed him across the street, walking back into the alley you came from.

“We aren’t walking. Grab the bag.” Bakugou walked up to the parked pontiac, jiggling the handle.

You pulled the backpack out of the empty box you had left it in, walking over to the car.

Bakugou gave it a few more tugs, ripping the handle off of the car door. He pulled the door open, leaning under the steering wheel.

“Katsuki we can’t steal a car!” You harshly whispered, looking around for watchers.

“Why not, they are going to find one up there already, why not just leave this one too.” He connected the wires unearth, the car stuttering a few times before it started. He stood up, turning to you. “Or do you have a better idea?”

“…I guess not.” You threw your hands up, walking over to the passenger side.

Bakugou got inside the car, leaning over to unlock your own door. He pushed it open, sitting back in the driver’s seat.

You sat down, throwing the backpack in the back seat. “Do you even know how to drive one of these?”

“It’s a manual, not a spaceship.” He pressed down on the clutch and shifted to first gear, his other tapping the accelerator as the car moved forward.

This man never ceased to amaze you.

Bakugou pulled out of the alleyway and onto the street. “Where are we going?”

“Up there.” You pointed down the road, your fingers landing on the distant hill on the horizon. “It’s called a look out point I think.”

“Gross.” Bakugou’s face soured. Intimacy, disgusting.

You chuckled, leaning forward to turn on the radio. You clicked through the stations stopping a few in. “Hey, I know this song.” You looked over at the irritated blonde, rolling his eyes. It was Frank Sinatra I Get A Kick Out Of You, something you had heard in a taxi a long time ago.

Bakugou tapped his finger along on the steering wheel as he rounded the road up to the top of the mountain. It was catchy. He glanced over at you, face pressed against the window as you looked down at the city skyline. It was close to dark now, the tips of the sun barely brushing the tops of the lowest buildings. The street lights were kicking on all around the city as he drove up the dark dirt road, the soft light of parked cars peaking over the top.

He pulled into the lot at the top, parking a few open spaces down from the full rows of cars. He turned off the engine and shut off the lights, the night stars popping out one by one as your eyes adjusted to the night sky.

“Hey what does this button do?” You pressed the button on the roof back, the top clicking off as it moved back into the trunk space.

“Hey, don’t be fucking with things!” Bakugou groaned, trying to stop the top from tucking away. He looked at you, hand lowering.

The sky had opened up now, the shine of every star filled the empty space in your eyes as you stared at awe. You filled his as he sank into his seat, watching you gush over the sea of lights above the both of you.

“I’ve never seen this many. We usually never stay this late…” You laid back in your seat, counting every twinkle in the sky.

There were perks of living in such an advanced society, but there were also drawbacks. One major one being the light pollution. You had never really seen the stars, not like this. The city was too bright to see anything but the north star and the moon. But this was everything in between, the last dying breaths of the constellations above.

You reached a hand over, brushing your fingers over Bakugou’s. “Katsuki I think that one is Mars.” You pointed up, looking over at him.

“What one?” He leaned over trying to line up his site with your extended finger.

“That one.” You pointed again.

“I don’t see it.” He leaned over a bit more, shoulder brushing yours.

“That red one!” You grumbled as he leaned over you.

Bakugou rested his hand on the side of your head, leaning down to brush his lips over your own. He pressed in you, kissing you sweetly.

You tangled you fingers with his shirt as he pulled back, a smirk adorning his face.

“Hey, we’re working!” You blushed, covering your face with your hands.

“We are working.” He laughed, sitting back in his seat. He looked out the window, no sign of new cars.

“Do you think he will show up?” You sat up, looking at the row of cars.

“Maybe, we just have to wait and see.” Bakugou squinted at the movement coming from the car a few spots down before turning away.

“What’s wrong, did you see him?” You leaned over, trying to get a better look.

Bakugou threw his hand over your eyes, pushing you back into your seat.“ You don’t want to see.”

Your cheeks heated up, he was probably right.

You heard a scream come from the direction, both of your heads whipping around as you pulled his hand down.

“Hey get your hands off my girlfriend!”

You saw a man get out of the car, pulling someone else out behind him. He was in his underwear, hair messy as he threw the man on the ground.

“That’s Cryptid!” You shouted, pointing to the man trying to stand up.

The other man swung his arm, knocking the villain out in one punch. He crumpled to the ground, limp in the dirt. The other man got back into his car, starting the engine as he drove off.

Bakugou unlocked the car door getting out, you scrambled behind him as you crawled over the seat. You both walked over to the unconscious man, turning him over to see his face.

“Yeah, he’s out cold…” You touched the man’s chest, making sure he was still breathing.

“He must have seen us and tried to hide in that car.” Bakugou picked up the man by the back of his shirt, holding him like a wet cat.

“Well…that was convenient.” You walked back to the car, pulling the bag out of the back seat. “We should get him back before the chief throws a fit. It’s getting pretty late.”

You pulled out your jumpsuits, slipping it on over your clothes. You handed Bakugou his, trading him from the collar of the villain as he got dressed to leave.

“Let’s just say we did it, don’t need the chief knowing we let some highschool football player catch this idiot.” Bakugou reached out a hand, pulling you into his side.

“Looks like the mission is done.” You wrapped an arm around him, holding him close.

“Yeah.” He took the man from you, shaking his head. “Can we go home so I can stop pretending to be your teenage boyfriend, I like being your adult fiance more.” He flashed you a small smile before pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“Yeah, we still need to talk about wedding cakes tonight.” You smirked, handing him his helmet. You clicked down your visor, as he slid his on.

Bakugou groaned, “We can’t just do it in the morning?” He was jolted forward, the both of you vanishing from the hilltop parking lot.

95 notes · View notes

loudsuitlover · 5 years ago

Text

Doctor Harry

A/N: I feel like I forgot how to write but I guess the best way to overcome that is trying to write again. I’m still trying to write Lawyer Harry and Ohana but I’m struggling I don’t know why. Also this on first person POV. Thought I’d try something different too. Anyway, sorry for this annoying intro I don’t even know who I’m writing this for haha if after all this ranting you still decided to read, thank you and happy reading! xxx

INDIE’S POV

This skirt fitted me better last spring. I look at my profile on the mirror and focus on my belly and my lips frown at the muffin top I got during the winter. I really need to get back with the abs routine Sergio had made for me. I guess it would help if I didn’t hate abs with a passion. I’d be so fit if I didn’t hate abs and then it would be over for all of them skinny bitches.

“Indie?” Jason barely whispers my name outside the door.

“Coming.”

I open the door fast as soon as I get my white coat on, getting my braid out of it as I walk with Jason towards the doctors’ offices. I have yet to meet my mentor, doctor Hill, since yesterday he didn’t work. That’s something I’ll never understand. If he’s not working then how can he have a medical student assigned for hospital practice? That’s beyond me. Thank God for young doctors who still remember what it was like to be an ignored Med student and help you out and take care of you. God bless them.

“You look cute today.” Jason points out but I know he means it more like a suspicion than a compliment so I just roll my eyes and check I have my notepad on the pocket of my coat. “Hoping to see Mario again, are we?”

I chuckle.

“You know some of us don’t want to jump the bones of every nice guy we meet.” I tease him.

“You’re telling me. You haven’t been with anyone in fourteen months.”

“You’re counting?” I can feel my face contorting in desbelief. “That’s sick.”

“I mean I don’t know if it’s been fourteen or fifteen or what but more than a year.”

I look into his brown eyes and hold his stare for long enough so that he undertands I do not necessarily want to discuss this here and now where any professor could walk past us any minute and he rolls his eyes so I know he’ll drop it.

“Anyway, our paths part here.” He announces right before he knocks on an office’s door and moves his mouth so that it looks like the voice of his mentor is his own.

I chuckle again as I make my way to office 32, where I read doctor Hill should be today in the doctor’s planning. A patient stops me on the way there and asks me where the digestive doctors hall is and I give him the directions with the smile that comes naturally to my face. I’ve been told that a lot, that I’m always smiling, even my grandad used to call me toothy when I was little for how much he would see my teeth when I smiled.

I’ve been studying medicine for four years and I’ve been dressing up as a doctor for hospital practice for two but it’s still exciting when some patient actually mistakes me with a real doctor because well, it’s so clear to me that I’m not, but it’s encouraging to see that people think I could be.

The office door is opened and I hear two male voices casually chatting on the inside. I don’t want to eavesdrop, especially because the probability of getting caught is rather high so I knock on the opened door and wait for them to give me permission to enter. They just stop talking so I take another step and stand on their sight. Mario, the nice young doctor that helped me yesterday, is looking at me with raised eyebrows. It’s almost hard to recognize him without the surgery gown so I reckon it might be the same for him but then he smiles and I give him a smile back.

“Hi, Mario.”

“Hi. Looking for doctor Hill?”

I nod at his question and he nods back as if telling me I’m on the right place but before he can speak the other doctor interrupts him.

“Here it is, Mario. D’you want me to print it fo you?”

Mario moves to the side so I can see the man who owns that voice and I know I must look stunned because I am. Doctors don’t usually look like that and I have never been this lucky. Usually our mentors are doctors over 50 and when they’re male they’re usually fat or bald, sometimes both, but he looks like a movie star or like a singer or someone from Olympus and I try to save the way he looks on my mind as if I already know no one is ever going to look like him ever.

I don’t know how long I’ve been standing here for or if any of them has said anything to me but by the way his green eyes stare into mine, amused, I feel like it’s been too long. How did he even manage to be a mentor? I don’t think he’s even a full doctor yet, he looks to young for that.

“You’re so unlucky, Harry. You got the most annoying student, always asking questions...” Mario jokes.

I chuckle, finding it funny that he would remember how I apologized the day before for making so many questions. He was really nice yesterday and he’s being very nice now saving me from my embarrassingly staring at Harry. He then stands up from his chair on the other side of the desk.

“Hi, I’m Harry. Nice to meet you.”

And much to my surprise, not that I’m complaining though, he approaches me and places one hand on my elbow, leaning in and pressing his cheek against mine in the way I would greet a friend. But he’s not a friend. No doctor has ever greeted me like that. And he just introduced himself as Harry, didn’t he? Does that mean he wants me to call him Harry? No doctor Hill anymore?

“I’m Indigo.” I tell him.

“Indigo.” He smiles and I think I’ve forgotten how to speak. “That’s such a beautiful name.”

“Thank you.” I look at my feet because I’m gonna fangirl if he keeps smiling at me. “My mum’s a painter and a hippy.”

He laughs and I feel my breath getting caught on my throat. I think I’m having a tachicardia. I feel stupid. It’s not like I’ve never seen a handsome man before. But I’ve certainly never been this close to one and I’ve never had his attention.

“Well, I’m on my way to the operating room.” Mario announces. “See you, mate.”

He gives Harry a warning look before he goes but Harry chuckles and shakes his head, dismissing his friend’s look and my nerves only grow stronger on my belly.

“Well, Indigo, sit here next to me.” He grabs the chair next to his and brings it closer to his until they’re touching and then he looks at me so I take a seat. “We usually check the list of the patients who are coming and read their clinical record before the visits begin, to be a little ahead, you know.” He smiles again.

If he keeps smiling at me like that I might faint at some point today. He then turns towards the laptop and starts telling me about the patients, even though sometimes it feels like he’s more thinking out loud than talking to me. I should really listen, especially in case he feels like asking me questions during the day because I really do not want to look like an idiot but I could stare at him all I want now and he wouldn’t notice and I can’t let this chance go so if I have to look like an idiot I will.

I let my eyes travel freely across his features. His hair is brown and is a little too long for a male who normally works on a surgery room. It’s not like it’s inappropriate or anything and it looks incredible on him and something tells me he knows that but it’s not usual that someone from his status wears their hair that long and that tousled. He asks something out loud but I know he’s not waiting for an answer because as soon as he asks it he searchs on the browser- and it’s not like I could have answered anyway. My mind is busy and the moment my eyes drop to his arm, flexed, elbow resting on the table, I could gulp just imagining those arms holding me against this very same desk and- what the fuck am I doing?

I know he can’t hear what I think but I still have to remind myself that and I pray to God he does not turn around because I’m pretty sure I’m blushing. He’s wearing the hospital uniform, with the baby blue button up and the baby blue pants, but I entertain my mind trying to picture his naked torso. This is so wrong for the love of God, he’s my professor. I really need to chill. I feel like a dog in season. But this is just extraordinary, I am not usually around men this hot, and what’s the harm in daydreaming anyway?

The moment my eyes move back up they stare into his amused ones and I feel my cheeks heating up so I get afraid I’m blushing.

“You were awfully quiet.” He states, a somewhat smug grin on his face but I am not judging, I made it pretty easy for him to make fun of me. “Did you understand?”

“Mostly.”

“Mostly, huh?” He smirks. “If there’s something I say that you don’t understand you just stop me, alright? Now, can you read an electrocardiogram?”

“I should be able to.”

He chuckles and places it one in front of me. I am getting embarrassingly exciting that he finds me funny but I have to bite back a smile of my own at his friendly attitude.

“Go on then.”

“Okay, first thing we need to look for P on II and V1.” I speak very slow so that I have time to think while I do so and judging by the way he’s smirking, he’s noticing. “And we see that we have indeed P waves, which is good, no auricular fibrilation then. And then we look for QRS and we check the frequency by counting and multiplying” I do the calculations on my mind “and it’s 75 hearbeats per minute, a little high but nothing to worry about, people tend to get nervous when we do electrocardiograms on them. And we check the dimensions of the waves, the height, the width... And I don’t know this looks pretty normal to me.”

I dare to look at him and he’s smirking but it doesn’t look cocky to me, it’s more like a proud smile so I smile back, happy with myself.

“Very good.” He smiles. “Just a little, tiny detail but you obviously don’t need to know that so don’t worry.” He stands up from his chair and stands right behind me and places his left hand on the desk in front of me so I can his chest hovering over me. His finger points a random P wave. “If you look closely at the P wave, does it look normal to you?”

I swallow, quite frankly I don’t know if the P wave looks normal or not. I guess it doesn’t because otherwise he wouldn’t be asking that but why does he smell so good? And why is his arm hovering over my chest? This could be the moment I faint.

“I know it’s not because that’s why you’re asking but I don’t see it.”

He laughs again and even though it’s silly, I can’t help but wonder if he laughs this much with everyone.

“It’s a little higher than normal, but it’s very subtle, it’s okay if you don’t see it yet and anyway it’s not that important.” He laughs again. “But it might indicate a right atrium hypertrophy. That’s for an A+ in cardiology.” He smiles before taking his seat back and opening a new record.

“What year are you in?” He’s not looking at me while he asks that.

“Fourth.”

He nods his head but keeps quiet after that and I’m not sure why he even asked that but for some reason- it might be because his scent still lingers on my nostrils or because he just hovered over me or because he indirectly asked my age- I feel a strange tension over my shoulders so I ask him something I genuinely don’t know anyway about the patient’s record and he even grabs a paper to draw some shit and for some reason that’s turning me on. The way he speaks, so slow but without hesitation, he’s got a very calming voice, and how many things he knows and how smart he seems to be... I’ve always had a thing for intelligent guys and the fact that he’s also so close and smells so good is only adding to that.

“Hi there.”

A very tall man with a white hospital uniform walks in and gives us both a look before he takes a seat on the counter next to the stretcher. He must be the nurse.

“So” He says, giving us his back as he types something on his laptop “who are you?” He turns to look at me.

I find it a little rude, but I don’t know this man at all. He might just be one of those people who come out strong so I give him a smile.

“I’m a fourth year med student. I have practice here today.” I explain.

“I know that, I’m your mentor, doctor Hill, but what’s your name?”

“Oh, sorry.” My tongue melts. “I mean Indigo, not sorry. My name’s not sorry.”

I hear Harry laughing out loud behind me and doctor Hill smiles as well. I totally looked like an idiot but at least they seemed to have found it endearing.

“Well, my name’s not sorry either.” Doctor Hill said. “You can call me Peter, Indigo.”

“Okay, Peter.”

“I see you’ve already met my resident doctor, doctor Styles.”

I nod my head.

“Cool, so now that we all know each other... Harry, who’s the first one?”

Like that we start visiting the patients and for the first time since I started my hospital practice, I actually have fun during one of them. Both Peter and Harry are quite funny, even though they do tease me a lot, but they also allow me to do a lot of things like weighting the patients, checking their blood pleasures and Harry even lets me do a clinical interview, under his watch obviously, but it was still exciting. The lady I did the interview to was so nice and I could feel Harry’s attentive stare with a proud, amused smile the entire time, even the lady smiled every time she looked at him.

After about three hours of visits, Peter stands up from his chair next to mine and stretches his back.

“So Harry, I think I’m gonna go to the surgery rooms to give a hand.” He states and my heart drops to my belly at the anticipation that he’s gonna make me go with him and my day with Harry is over. “What do you want to do, Indigo?” I hold my breath at the surprise. “Do you wanna come with me or stay here with Harry? Well, that’s if Harry doesn’t mind but I think he doesn’t.” He smirks.

“No, of course not. It’s actually nice to have a nurse around.” He smiles.

“I think I’m gonna stay then if that’s okay.”

Peter nods and smiles.

“Do you prefer visits over surgery room or you just prefer doctor Styles over me?”

I see Harry shaking his head from the corner of my eye and look down at my hands.

HARRY’S POV

“Sorry” I call Indigo with the nickname she gave herself and she raises her eyebrows “would you please call the next patient? Mrs Hope.”

“Good name.”

I cannot not smile. She stands up from her chair and I entertain my eyes with the laptop screen just to pretend I’m not watching her all the time. I think I’ve managed to rebuild my reputation from how much of a fool of myself I made when I introduced myself to her but it just took me off guard. I wasn’t expecing to have a student around at all, much less that the student was going to look like her.

I’m also done with feeling guilty for thinking about her that way, even though now I’m starting to feel guilty for not feeling guilty, but I can’t control my mind and I don’t think anyone who’s seen her could judge me. Plus, she can’t know what I’m thinking. Even Mario flirted with her this morning...

But no, I don’t want to make her feel uncomfortable or to take advantage of my position at all. She came here to learn and I really need to stop looking at her thighs. She closes the door after Mr Copper and I feel the hair at the back of my neck bristle when I see the way he looks at her.

“Good morning, doctor.” He greets me. “You’re very lucky you have such a beautiful assistant.”

Sorry smiles but her shoulders have tensed and even though I’ve only known her for a few hours, I can tell when someone’s uncomfortable and I know she is. I don’t blame her either. I reckon I’d be uncomfortable too.

“She’s also very smart too. That’s why she’s here actually.”

I don’t want to be rude with my patient but for some reason I felt like I had to protect her. I catch her trying not to smile looking at her thighs and I try not to smile too. We do Mr Copper’s visit and she starts scribbling on her notepad and I have to help myself from peeking at the questions she’s going to make. I wonder if what she’s written down if that she has noticed Mr Copper jugular.

When Mr Copper walks out, I turn to look at her and smile. Again.

“Thank you.” She says.

“What for?” I frown.

“You know, for what you said.” Her eyes stare into mine and I try to figure out what is it about this girl that’s making me nervous. “Most guys don’t even understand why some compliments make us feel uncomfortable.”

I smile at her. I hope she knows she really is beautiful and I mean I can understand Mr Copper and had he said that any other way or had he not looked at her like he did right before, I wouldn’t have said anything and I’m sure she wouldn’t have felt uncomfortable but it was just inappropriate.

“It’s true though.”

I’m already a sucker for her smile. Thank God I am not going to see her again.

“Do you have any questions for me?”

“Mmm...” She bites her bottom lip.

I’ve noticed she does that when she’s not sure of something. I like it. She has very beautiful lips too, so full and pink and moisturized. Look back into her eyes, Harry.

“I’ve seen you scribbling like crazy.” I encourage her.

I want her to ask me whatever it is that’s going through her mind.

“No, well, I was describing his jugular.”

I feel my dick as soon as she said that. So she noticed. She’s fucking smart and that’s a turn on.

“So that I would remember what I saw, you know?”

I nod.

“Do I have to give you a mark or just sign your assistance?”

“Just sign.” She shakes her head.

“Shit. Well, you got an A anyway.”

She grins excitedly and I want to ask her how old she is again but I turn around and open the next record. This is the last one left and it’s the first time since I started working I don’t want to finish visiting, but when we are done she’ll go and I’ll never see her again.

I swear I’m trying not to feel attracted to her. I know it’s wrong but if I’m not going to see her again, I mean if she’s just going to leave now and I’ll never have to supervise her practice again, I could ask for her phone number, right? I mean I’m not a professor like Danny. It’s not technically prohibited. But she would feel pressured. I can’t do that.

“Actually, Harry” her voice cracks a little and I want to look at her but I know she’s nervous so I don’t “I do have a question. Can I ask you something?”

“Anything, Sorry.”

“It... It has nothing to do with the practice, though.”

“It doesn’t?” Now this is interesting.

I finally turn my body towards her so that I’m facing her and encourage her to ask me. If she asks for my number I’ll give it to her, but I don’t think she will.

“Mmm... Can I ask how old are you?”

I don’t want to tell her and that’s when I notice all my attempts at trying not to be attracted to her have failed. Her skin is so soft and she smells so good, like sweet vanilla, I bet she tastes sweet too. Fuck, I’m doing it again and I’m looking at her breasts. Fuck me.

“I’m 27.”

She smiles and I don’t know what that means. I want to ask her but we need to call the last patient.

“Miss Asvenson.” I smile.

She nods and stands up from her chair but before she opens the door I ask her.

“And you?”

We look into each other’s eyes and I think we both know why we’re asking. She smiles.

“21.”

I nod. She’s legal everywhere in the world.

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