#the way he didn’t touch anything in their room. didn’t move foolish’s message (because foolish also didn’t make it). how he went yeah they

[zeb-z]

roier put up that photo because he doesn’t believe cellbit is gone. a bit of his own amusement, but also entirely for cellbit’s, because as much as he got a little giggle out of it, that’ll be something that will make his husband full stop even out of his angst mode and he’ll have to try not to laugh. because roier knows his husband, and that’s his castle too, and why not make a small silly change? easier to pretend like it’s a joke, and he isn’t missing his husband. because surely he survived. and he’ll see that stupid dog photo after having survived against all odds, and laugh with roier as if he hadn’t been gone in the first place.

[vizthedatum]

Say how I abused you. I dare you.

Tell your mom. Tell your therapist if you’re seeing one. Tell the cops even tho we both hate them. Tell everyone. Tell someone.

Did I abuse you when my schedule and disabilities didn’t align with your timetable?

Did I abuse you when I couldn’t do household chores but went out anyway?

Did I abuse you when I came to get my stuff out of our shared home, the lease of which was under my name?

Did I abuse you the day I filed for divorce and wanted to explain how the paperwork was going to go and you videotaped me without my consent?

Did I abuse you when I kept saying no to you wanting to touch or come near me?

Did I abuse you when you told me I wasn’t allowed to have boundaries?

Did I abuse you when I organized your books without asking only because we fucking lived together and I wanted to help with organizing and moving because you’re incredibly hard to organize anything with?

Did I abuse you when I kept telling you we needed more help (like exterminators) for our mouse problem?

Did I abuse you when I couldn’t respond to you yelling at me to be kind when I was doing everything in my power to show you kindness?

Did I abuse you when I tried to not invalidate your feelings that you were being harmed when you were actively emotionally and ultimately physically abusing me?

Write about it.

Write about how I abused you while I wasn’t allowed to touch you most of the time because you said I was going to crush your bones.

Write about how I delete my messages when I’m ashamed of them because my emotions are too intense for you.

Tell people how you weren’t in therapy for years and how you said you’d walk out of couples counseling if you were disagreed with.

Tell people how inappropriately you acted when one of my best friends in this world visited us while being extra covid-cautious (BECAUSE OF YOU) and you couldn’t even be ok with him watching tv with me in the living room. Tell people how I had to manage your emotions while you disappeared. Tell people how my best friend thought he had broken us up, and I had to persuade him that everything was fine and it was your trauma that was causing you to act this way. Tell people it was incredibly hot outside and all we wanted to do was bake, play games, watch tv, and talk to each other - but we walked around outside and crashed in his hotel room instead. Because you couldn’t handle someone else in our space. My best friend. Who loves me. Who by extension, respected the fuck out of you. Who you’ve met several times before. Who has stayed with us before. Who you know means SO FUCKING MUCH TO ME.

Tell people how when I initially sent an email to our landlord about seeing mice, you and your friend LAUGHED behind my back about my email about a MORE LEGITIMATE PROBLEM THAN US GETTING COVID.

Tell people how bad I flared all the time. Tell people how I was such a chore. Tell people I couldn’t be a team player with chores and stuff. Tell people that I hid from you because while I desperately craved connection, you just infodumped at me about things I didn’t know. Tell people that you overloaded me so much that I couldn’t think. Tell people you preferred me stoned rather than sober. Tell people that you only really wanted to fuck me and keep me as yours - and that you thought I was as foolish as all the TV shows I watch. Tell people how you pretended to love me just to fill a void from your childhood. Tell people how I have had a harder life than you - that’s right. I’m comparing. I have categorically had a harder life than you, my other ex-partner, and all my other exes. Fuck you. Is it ableist to say that? Is it? Is it ableist to say that while I’m here with severely fucked up memories and unsupported autism and severe pain THAT I HAVE HAD IT WORSE THAN ALL OF YOU COMBINED and yet you get to selfishly impose whatever the fuck you want on me and I just lie down and take it?

[invisibleanonymousmonsters]

Seized

An addition to Approval. Do not read this until reading that first. 

Character: Bruce Wayne x Fem!Reader // Damian Wayne x Batmom

Summary: What happens when Talia Al Ghul learns that someone has stolen the affections of her past lover and her son?

Word Count: 3,000 [One Shot]

“Delinquents have been detained. I can hear the sirens,” Damian stated calmly in his comms.

“Good work, Robin. You know where to meet me. You have a minute,” Bruce responded as he whipped the bat mobile through Crime Alley to grab his son.

Just as Damian opened the door and hopped in, an alarm went off within the vehicle.

“The Manor,” Damian thought aloud as he read the screens with his father.

Bruce ignored his comment and was calling Alfred immediately.

“Master Wayne,” the butler instantly picked up. “I followed protocol, but they were already gone when I arrived.”

“Y/N…” Bruce immediately asked.

“They took her,” Alfred told him, distress clear in his tone.

Damian’s head whipped to his father to watch his reaction.

But Bruce’s jaw only tightened and he sped the batmobile even faster.

Returning faster to Wayne Manor than ever before, Bruce jumped out of the batmobile and up the secret entrance to get to the main house.

Damian was hot on his heels. He’d already sent an encrypted message to his brothers, informing them of the situation. It was only a matter of time before they were at the manor as well. Though Damian suspected Jason would not come, instead already starting to scour the streets of Gotham for Y/N and her captors.

Alfred was already waiting for them. “Master Wayne, I am so sorry.”

Bruce ignored him and walked to the master bedroom. Y/N would’ve been sleeping when the attack occurred. It wouldn’t have mattered if she had been awake, she had no training in self defense. She was merely an innocent civilian.

“Father,” Damian muttered quietly.

Bruce turned around to find his son ripping a shuriken out of the door frame.

They shared a look, both recognizing the particular shape and color.

“The League…” Damian muttered quietly, saying what they both were thinking.

——————

Y/N was barely awake.

They clearly had drugged her with something to make her more compliant. Everything was foggy and muffled.

Yet they still tied her hands and ankles together, as if her brain could even manage to get her body to move.

But Y/N could feel the effects of the drugs losing their strength, yet keeping their hold on her.

She squinted as she looked around. The air felt different. It was colder and dryer, making Y/N believe that she was no longer in Gotham. Little did she know, she wasn’t even in the country any longer.

“I do not know what he sees in you,” a woman hummed from somewhere in the room.

Y/N blinked as he listened, but her eyes could not adjust to the low lighting and she didn’t even have the strength to turn her head.

“You are weak. Ripped from your own bed without so much as a fight.”

Then she heard the grunts and clashing of metal.

The woman smiled. “Right as expected, my son.”

Y/N’s brow furrowed at ‘my son.’ Then she finally lifted her head and took in her surroundings. There were swords and other weapons stored everywhere, and there was armor hung from the walls.

“Talia?” She whispered.

The woman chuckled. “Weak, but not utterly foolish.”

Then the door of the room was thrown open.

Y/N looked to see Damian in his Robin uniform.

“My son, finally returned," Talia greeted with a smirk.

“Mother.” Then his gaze flickered to Y/N. Very subtly, he was scanning her body to access any possible injuries.

His gaze turned back to his mother. “What is the meaning of this?”

“You have forgotten where you come from, Damian. You are not just the heir to the Wayne family. Before anything else, you are my son and the heir to Ra's al Ghul’s throne.”

“She has nothing to do with this,” Damian said with a gesture to Y/N.

“She has everything to do with this,” Talia snapped. “She has made you weak.”

Damian said nothing.

“She has taken you both from me,” Talia growled.

“Father does not love you,” he growled.

“A small lapse in judgment on his part, but not something that cannot be remedied. Our love gave us you, and I fully believe he will return to me.”

“His heart belongs to someone else. The sooner you realize that, the sooner you can give up your fantasy.” Then he hesitated to say the next part. “I never plan on returning to The League of Shadows. I wish to stay with father.”

Talia’s amusement vanished at her sons words.

The next second, she unsheathed her sword. “Perhaps I should just kill her and remind you of your place, my son.”

With that, Damian rushed forward and intercepted Talia’s attack with his own sword.

“Do not touch her,” Damian growled.

Their swords continued to clash as the mother and son fought each other. The fight raged on for what felt like forever. Too evenly matched, but also both too terrible at hiding that neither actually wanted to kill the other.

In the distance, Y/N could hear even more fighting. She could only assume it was Bruce fighting his way to her and his son.

Talia and Damian’s swords locked again, both of their stances shaking from the hold.

“Do you really think you and your father stand a chance against the entire League? Why do you think we lured you all the way here? You are outnumbered.” Talia hissed.

“You think us foolish enough to come alone?” Damian smirked right before there was a boom that shook the entire compound.

Talia’s focus slipped half a second, allowing Damian a window to go on the offense.

He flipped his mother’s sword out of her grip and held his own to her throat.

“Yield,” he growled down to her.

“You truly choose her over your own mother?” The hurt in her eyes was clear.

“You abandoned me, used me as a tool to disrupt father’s life. She taught me that there is more to life than killing and destroying. She loves me and care for me, even when I gave her no reason to do so.”

“And it will be the death of you,” Talia warned.

He glared at her. “Yield!”

But he knew she would never. So he whipped out a dart and blew it to her neck – a sedative.  It knocked her out within seconds.

Waiting until he was sure it had worked, Damian sheathed his sword once again and ran to Y/N’s side.

With a knife, he cut the ropes around her wrists and ankles.

“D-Damian,” her voice was still slurred from the drugs and she was weak. How long had she been here without food or water? “I don’t think I can walk."

Damian helped her to her feet. “Y/N, please try,” he begged as he wrapped her around around his shoulders. He was still just a boy, one that was shorter than her. But he wouldn’t give up that easily.

There was another explosion.

“What’s-What’s happening?” Y/N asked as she dragged her feet and held on tightly.

“That would be Todd, most likely taking his job of distracting to an unnecessary level.”

“You all came?” She asked in shock.

“Of course,” Damian scoffed.

Suddenly an object came flying at them and Y/N cried out in pain.

“No!” Damian bellowed as he looked up to see that another League member was attempting to stop their escape. And with it, they had thrown a shuriken that had landed in Y/N’s side.

She dropped to the ground.

Damian screamed as he unsheathed his sword once again and charged the assassin. It wouldn’t take him long. He knew that every minute spent fighting was a minute Y/N was bleeding out and edging closer to death.

He didn’t hold back like he had with his mother and quickly disarmed the enemy. Then thrusting his sword into a nonfatal area of his body, enough to neutralize him. 

Damian rushed back to Y/N’s side, where a pool of blood was forming from her wound.

He knew it was useless, but he still tried to lift Y/N into his arms to carry her. He cried out in both panic and frustration.

The building had now caught aflame due to Jason’s explosions. Damian would need to call for backup, hoping one of his older brothers could help.

Then a shadow was cast over him.

Damian tensed, believing it to be another attack.

But he looked up to find his father standing before them.

However, Bruce’s gaze was on his unconscious girlfriend.

With the arrival of his father, Damian’s cold and calculating disposition melted.

“She’s hurt,” his voice trembled and tears formed in his eyes. “Help her.”

Damian rarely cried. He cried less than grown men. He was raised that way. It didn’t help that his father was not a great example of healthy emotional expression.

But Bruce knew what his sons tears were for: Damian was frustrated, he felt weak, and he thought he had failed his mission. But most of all, Bruce knew his son was crying for fear of Y/N’s death. Because the boy had grown to love her.

As if there were a world when Bruce wouldn’t give his own life to save Y/N.

Bruce bent down and carefully brought Y/N into his arms.

Damian heard her mutter his father’s name, though still delirious from both the drugs he’s sure his mother pumped into her and the blood loss.

“Red Robin, get the jet to my coordinates immediately,” Bruce instructed through his comms.

Damian wondered how his father could be so calm when the woman he loved was bleeding out in his arms. This wasn’t bat business, this was personal. But Bruce spoke like it was just another night of patrol.

A few minuets later, Damian and Bruce had fought their way through the flames and burning compound.

Tim lowered the platform of the jet.

Damian made sure his father and Y/N got on before he followed. He turned and gave one last look at the burning compound that would no longer exist come morning. He did not fear for his mother’s life. He knew someone from the League would come for her – if she didn’t save herself first.

When he boarded the jet, his father already had Y/N on the surgical table that elevated from the jet floor.

Bruce had taken off his cowl, allowing Damian and his brothers to study his expressions.

Damian had been wrong about his father handling the situation like any other mission. For now he could see the terror and worry in his father’s eyes, despite him trying to control his emotions.

Damian looked to Jason, who still had his Red Hood helmet on.

“My grandfather?” He asked his brother.

“Escaped,” Jason muttered.  

Damian stepped forward to help Bruce with Y/N’s injuries.

“She’ll be OK,” he muttered to his father.

All of them had high-level medical training to know.

Thankfully the assassin’s aim was not great and didn’t land in lethal place on Y/N’s body. But she still lost a lot of blood and would need many stitches.

All the brother’s shared a look when Bruce ignored the statement. 

———

Y/N woke up to someone gripping her hand. She recognized from the smell and the feel of the bedding that she was in Bruce’s bed at the manor.

She winced as she opened her eyes to find Bruce was the one holding her hand as he sat in a chair only inches away from the side of the bed.

“Hi,” she whispered to him with a sad smile.

“Hi,” he said back with a smirk.

“How long have I been asleep?”

“Two days.”

Then Y/N looked past Bruce to realize there was someone else in the room.

Damian passed out on the velvet chaise that was pushed against the windows.

“He hasn’t left your side,” Bruce told her. “Dick had to convince him just to take a shower for 5 minutes when we first got back.”

Y/N’s heart melted at the revelation.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t here.”

The sound of Bruce’s voice as he said it made Y/N’s gaze snap back to him. Had it shook? Or was she imagining it?

Y/N squeezed his hand that was still wrapped around hers. 

“I know,” she told him with a sympathetic look.

He hid it well, but Y/N knew Bruce. And she knew that her being kidnapped from his own home probably drove him mad with guilt. She wouldn’t be surprised if he’d already designed an entirely new security system to prevent something like that ever happening again.

Bruce took in a shaky breath and opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out.

He wanted to say that he always feared her being with him would put her in danger like this. 

He wanted to say that maybe she should stay away from him. 

He wanted to say that him and the kids didn’t deserve her. 

He wanted to say that the only reason this happened is because Talia hated that she loved her son better than she ever did.

But Bruce had never been good at saying how he actually felt – or even acknowledging he had any feelings at all.

So Y/N brought his hand to her lips and kissed his knuckles. “Bruce, I know,” she said once again.

“I won’t let it happen again. I promise you,” he told her evenly.

“Bruce, I knew what I signed up for when you told me you were Batman. If I wasn’t willing to face the reality of it, I wouldn’t have stayed.”

“No one would’ve blamed you if you hadn’t.”

There was a knock at the door and then it opened a second later.

Damian jumped awake at the sound. But then he quickly brought his attention to Y/N. “You’re awake.”

But everyone’s attention was on Dick, who was standing at the open doorway.

“Hey,” he greeted Y/N, surprised to see that she was awake. “How are you feeling?”

“Sore. Tired. But I’ll be alright.”

He seemed to relax from her answer.

Then he winced when he looked at Bruce. “They put the signal up.”

Bruce’s jaw tightened.

He was about to open his mouth to ask them to handle it, not wanting to leave Y/N alone now that she had woken up.

“Go, Bruce. I’ll be OK.” Y/N told him, reading his mind.

“I think it’s the Joker,” Dick added with a serious frown.

“Bruce, go.” Y/N repeated.

And he saw the sincerity in her eyes. He leaned forward and kissed her gently, deciding he didn’t care if his two sons were witnesses to the intimacy.

Then Bruce kissed her forward. “I’ll be back as soon as I can. Alfred will be here if you need anything. Do not hesitate to call.”

Y/N nodded.

Bruce stood up and acknowledged Damian and Dick. “Let’s go.”

Once they were ways down the hall, Bruce heard Damian stop.

“Father?”

Bruce and Dick both turned to face Damian.

“I wish to stay with Y/N.”

Bruce and Dick shared a look, and then Dick decided to give the two a moment alone and muttered something about waiting in the cave.

Bruce walked back to his youngest son.

Damian’s gaze was glued on the floor. “Mother truly would’ve killed her?”

Bruce sighed. “Most likely, yes.” He saw no point in lying to his son.

“Because she knows that you and I love her?”

“Yes.”

Damian was quiet for a moment. But Bruce knew he had more to say.

“I used to think I had to earn it.”

Bruce frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Mother’s love. I had to earn it. Win in combat. Successfully execute a target. Outsmart a puzzle or challenge.” Damian looked up at his father with a broken expression. “Her love always came with a price.”

Bruce kneeled down to his son.

The boy shook his head. “But Y/N made me realize that I don’t have to earn anyone’s love. I don’t have to prove that I’m worthy of it.” He bit his lip. “She’s not my father or my brother. She didn’t have to love me. But she does…even when I did nothing to earn it.”

“Everyone is deserving of love, Damian.” Bruce gripped his son’s shoulder. “I’m sorry for not teaching you that myself.”

Damian nodded. “So, may I please stay with her tonight? I don’t want her to be alone.” But then he quickly corrected himself. “Unless of course, you require my assistance, father.”

Bruce smirked at him. “I think we will manage, Damian.” Then he squeezed his shoulder. “Look after her for me, alright?”

Damian relaxed and quickly nodded his head. “Of course, father.”

When Bruce returned hours later, Damian was cuddled next to Y/N in the bed. But clearly laying in a position to be mindful of her injuries. Both were fast asleep. The bright television was the only thing lighting the room, as it played a Pixar movie.

Bruce couldn’t help but grin at the sight.

“I got him,” Dick whispered to him before stepping into the room and carefully lifting the boy in his arms, clearing the space in the bed for Bruce to join Y/N.

Bruce moved about the room as he changed into cotton shorts and went without a shirt.

Y/N woke slightly as he joined her in bed.

“Everything OK?” She whispered sleepily.

“Everything’s fine. Did Damian keep you company?”

Y/N smiled and shifted her body so she was cuddle into him. “Yes…my little protector.”

Bruce smiled at that. “Don’t let him hear the ‘little’ part…”

She chuckled. “Good call.” 

And then she was fast asleep once again.

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

Please, please, please let me know what you think! 

[may-fanfic]

Wanda teaching reader how to cook?

Chef’s Kiss

summary: after a failed attempt at making dinner for the team, wanda steps up and helps you out a bit. 

warning: mentions of being an orphan, teasing, 

word count: 1,266

a/n: hope you enjoy 💕

masterlist  

((feel free to send in any request you may have))

----------

cooking was always one of wanda's favorite things to do. when she was young she remembered hovering over of mother, watching everything she did in awe. she felt like food brought a family together and when her parents died, she took on her mother's legacy. she knew she would never be as good as her mom but that didn't stop her from trying and she knew Pietro enjoyed tasting the family recipes, it made them feel like their parents had still been there.

when wanda met you, she swore you had been the most beautiful,  gentlest person she’s  ever met and it was apparent to everyone that the witch had a thing for you. she was always so protecting and careful with you, if anyone dares speak ill of you, they'd have to deal with wanda and that was a line no one was ever willing to cross.

everyone except for Tony, it was always innocent teasing and you'd never seem to be bothered by his humor until one day, you decided to prepare a home-cooked meal for the team. the only problem was, you didn't have any family or any passed-on recipes like wanda. you grew up in a foster home so the meals that were prepared there seemed like jail food, eating was never anything other an essential to you.

of course, your attempt at cooking was a huge fail and when tony began to tease you about how terrible the food tasted, wanda noticed the difference in your mood. the excitement and cheerfulness seemed to flush away and you crumbled into yourself with embarrassment. wanda could feel the anger bubbling inside of her stomach, gripping hard at her fork. "I think it's good, y/n," Natasha spoke up, smiling kindly at you from across the table.

"good?" tony laughed out, hardly noticing the redness in your cheeks and the pout that began to form on your lips as you stared down at the plated food. wanda didn't let the man continue as she flicked her fingers in the direction of him, making him wear the remainder of his food. "shut up." wanda spoke through gritted teeth as the billionaire groaned in disbelief. he thought it was innocent until you shot up from your seat and left the dining room in a hurry.

the whole team stared at the man, shaking their heads. he could feel the heaviness in the room, and by the way, wanda was looking at him, he knew that he messed up. "not cool, man." peter shook his head and he finished the last few bites on his plate, it wasn't good but you were his best friend and he'd be damned if he made the same foolish mistake as his mentor beside it wasn't worse than aunt may's cooking. "clean the mess up." wanda suddenly spoke and tony was confused for a moment before wanda sent the rest of the food flying.

wanda didn't play about you, that much was clear, and at least now Tony knew better than to overstep his boundaries.

a soft knock sounded at your door moments later and you let out a sigh. "go away, peter!" you figured it was him because you knew he had a good heart and always came running to your aid when needed. a soft chuckle sounded before her sweet voice spoke up. "it's me." she whispered out in a hushed tone, it was soothing, the heaviness of her accent always made butterflies erupt from your stomach. "can I come in?" you uttered out a soft 'yeah'.

wanda hated seeing you upset, it physically pained her that you were sad. she'd do anything to make you smile again. "don't worry about tony. I thought it was good." she shrugged, taking a seat beside you on your bed. you let out a gentle breath, letting your head fall against Wanda's shoulder and she swooned at the contact. "I suck," you exclaimed, frowning when she wrapped an arm around you. "no you don't," she whispered, placing a gentle kiss on your hairline. "I'm never cooking again," you promised, causing a sad smile to grow on her lips as she held onto you tighter.  

"how about this?" wanda paused for a moment when you adjusted your head to gaze up at her. "let me teach you."

you agreed, enjoying any kind of time you could spend with wanda. you had still been pouting like a child the next day when wanda dragged you into the kitchen. "you should just give up on me while you still can." you frowned, wrapping your arms around yourself as wanda moved around the kitchen for the things she needed.

"don't be so dramatic." she laughed, her heart warmed when a smile tugged at the corner of your lips, letting your arms drop down to your sides. "oh, I'm dramatic now?" you teased, tugging away some seasonings that wanda held. she smiled at you, giving you all her attention. "you're acting like you blew up the kitchen." she gazed at you for a moment, feeling her heart pound against her chest.

"I could've." she rolled her eyes, her hand found its place on your lower back, tugging you closer to her so that you were placed in front of her. "I'll make sure you don't," she whispered into your ear, her hands moving to tug your hair back before making sure that it was all secured into a ponytail. . 

a chill run down your spine, you were sure that wanda was just teasing you at this point, with the subtle touches that she left all over you. you wished wanda was bold enough to make a move but that didn't seem like the case.

you were following each instruction the girl gave you, her hands placed on either side of your waist as she hovered over your shoulder to make sure you were doing everything right, for the most part, you were. "look at you." she hummed out, feeling proud of the little things that you were accomplishing. you beamed with excitement as she praised you, tilting your head back enough to look up at the woman. her gaze was soft as she gazed down at you, a smile tugging over her lips.

wanda couldn't stop herself from leaning down and pressed a chaste kiss to your lips, it was quick but when she retracted from you, a groan left your lips and she quickly got the message, leaning back down to connect your lips once again. her smile had been apparent as she kissed you, one of her hands tightened on your hip while the other came over to hold your throat gently. as much as you wanted to turn around and completely melt into the kiss, your hands were dirty and you knew that wanda wouldn't be too happy about getting uncooked food on her favorite sweatshirt.

"y/n, listen, I heard you were cooking so I just wanted to-" tony quickly cut himself off and the sound of his voice seemed to bring the both of you back to reality. wanda stepped away from you, a blush creeping up on her cheeks as she stared tony down until he left.

once the dinner had been done and served, you sat quickly, worry coursing through your body as you awaited everyone's review on your dish. wanda had been leaned against you, her arm wrapped around your shoulders.

"This is..." tony stared down at his plate for a moment before snapping his gaze back at you, mouth full. "fantastic." Wanda smiled down at you, it was clear that she was proud of you but other than anything she was happy that she could make you happy.

[trashyswitch]

Logan's Invention Trouble

Logan had created a new machine that could grip and tickle you if you step up to it. But, faulty wiring leads to Logan getting stuck in his own invention! And due to an unlucky break, Logan has to rely on some not-so-reliable people to save him from his own foolishness.

This fanfic was suggested by @gamequeenanya. I hope you enjoy, Violet!

His new invention had been a wonderful success. He had tested it on a dummy, and had tested it on the air to see the controls without a person in the machine. To Logan’s happiness, it worked like a gem. Logan had originally set it up to be button activated. However, that was only for the testing. So, Logan decided to make it motion controlled instead, to guarantee a surprise for everyone that walked into it.

After finishing up the motion sensor, Logan threw the dummy down in front of the machine. Quickly, many pairs of hands gathered the dummy’s hands and feet, and started doing its expected thing. Logan smiled at his own success and clicked the button to shut it down. Slowly, the hands slowed down to a stop and let the dummy go.

He planned to gather the dummy. But before he got even remotely close, Logan had switched the motion sensor off so that he didn’t end up caught in the machine.

However…

Logan didn’t really know this, but the wiring had been done incorrectly, making the button completely useless. The button didn’t shut off the motion sensor. If anything, it alerted the sensor that something was gonna be coming to it very soon.

Confident that the button had turned it off however, Logan walked up to the machine to retrieve the dummy.

Suddenly, the machine grabbed Logan’s hands! Logan yelped the moment his hand was grabbed, and immediately made the realization that the button was faulty! It was way too late for that though, and Logan’s bodily functions took over as about 15 hands tickled his armpits, sides, ribs, belly, feet, back of the knees, and the shoulderblades.

OH NO!

“GAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! OHOHOHOHO GEHEHEHEHEEEZ! WHAHAHAT HAHAHAHAPPEHEHEHENED?!” Logan asked.

Logan realized something even worse than the tickles:

Logan hadn’t added a proper timer to the machine yet! He had planned to add the timer after he had gathered the dummy!

That means that the machine was gonna tickle tickle tickle him forever! Or, until someone clicks the button that he had foolishly dropped during the attack! And the other unfortunate part, was that the remote was JUST out of reach of his foot! But the hand that had grabbed his foot, would automatically lift his foot back into position if he even tried to reach out to click it!

The only way he’d ever get out, will involve getting one of the sides to help him out!

This was a nightmare come true! Or...Well, Logan would say a mixed emotion-kinda dream. It was a nightmare in how he was gonna get out, but it was a dream that Logan could experience the machine first hand.

“AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! BAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! HEHEHEHEHELP! SOHOHOMEOHOHONE!” Logan called.

This was gonna be so embarrassing to explain...But dammit all, Logan needed out!

Logan looked around and tried to get out himself. But each time he would pull on the restraints, the hands nearby would tickle harder for a few seconds each, to further weaken him! Logan knew this was a thing that came with installing the motion sensor...He knew that he added this due to his intense ler mood...But this just gave fuel to the fire!

Logan growled as he felt powerless against his own machine. What a joke...Of course the inventor will get stuck in his own invention! It’s bound to happen! But this is just too much!

Finally, after what felt like hours, someone followed his laughter to the laboratory.

“Logan? Are you...laughing?!” Someone asked.

“HEHEHEHELP MEEEEHEHEHEHE!” Logan begged.

The person peeked his head in and widened his eyes. “Holy Zeus...What is thihihis?!” The person asked.

As you could tell by the reaction, this intruder was Roman.

“HEHEHEHELP! IHIHIHI’M STUHUHUHUHUCK!” Logan shouted to him.

“Ihihi can tehehell!” Roman reacted, giggling. “What in the name of Peter Pan did you get yourself stuck in?!” Roman asked.

“IHIHIT’S AHAHA MAHAHACHIHIHINE! PLEHEHEHEASE HEHEHELP!” Logan begged.

“Well...How do I turn it off?” Roman asked.

“BUHUHUTTON! BEHEHELOHOHOW MYHYHY FEHEHEHEET!” Logan replied, pointing to the remote that laid on the floor.

Roman looked up and immediately noticed the cameras. “Uh oh...It’s motion censored?!” Roman reacted. “Now why would you make a tickling machine motion sensored?” Roman asked.

“SHUHUHUT UHUHUP AHAHAND GEHEHET MEHEHE OHOHOUT!” Logan begged.

Roman gasped and grabbed the remote. But he didn’t press the button...not yet.

“Now you listen here, you son of a sword! You, as the damsel in distress, are relying on me, the hero, to save you from the eeeevil tickle machine of your own invention!” Roman explained. “Perhaps you should treat the hero with a little more respect?” Roman asked.

“JUHUHUST PREHEHESS IHIHIHIT!” Logan begged.

“No way! Not yet. I wanna hear more of your cute little laughter.” Roman told him.

Out of all the people to call his hero…

Logan tried to get out himself, but winded up causing the hands at his feet to tickle more. “eeEEEEEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHE! NAHAHAHAT THEHEHE TOHOHOHOES!” ogan begged helplessly. “PLEHEHEHEASE! IHIHIHIHI’M SAHAHAHARRYHYHYHY!” Logan told him.

He was gonna need some wine after he’s done this…

Roman smiled at the apology and clicked the button. Slowly, the hands started to slow down and stopped tickling the man.

Logan let out a long breath of relief and gasped for air while the hands lowered him down and let go. “Th...Thank you.” Logan told him.

Roman nodded in response and immediately noticed a button that was labelled on the remote:

[CAPTURE]

Roman smiled and clicked the button.

Quickly, the hands grabbed Logan’s hands, feet and torso, and held him up again. “eeEEK! Um...What are you doing?” Logan asked.

“Tell me: Why did you create an invention for tickling people?” Roman asked.

Logan face blushed almost immediately after hearing that word. “Uuuuuuh...Well…” Logan mumbled.

“Welll???” Roman teased. “A little reminder that I have the remote~” Roman added.

Logan growled and pulled on his hands. “Just let me out, you mischievous beast!” Logan shot back.

“Ooooh! Refusing to reply to my message? And calling me names?!” Roman reacted.

Roman clicked a couple buttons on the remote. “You just earned yourself some more feet tickles, sir.” Roman decided.

Logan squealed as the hands touched his feet and started tickling. But not just any hands...Roman’s hands! Roman had knelt down and started tickling Logan’s sensitive feet! Logan giggled at the tickles and laughed as the inner arch, the balls of his foot and the heels were tickled bit by bit.

“Rohohohoho cohohome ohohohon! Whyhyhyhy?” Logan asked.

Roman smiled. “Why did you make the tickle machine?” Roman asked. “I know you’re hiding something.”

Logan refused to answer. “Ihihihi’m nahahahat tehehellihihing yohohohou!” Logan shot back.

“Oh? And why is that?” Roman asked.

“Nohohone ohohof yohohohour beeeheheheezwahahahax!” Logan replied confidently.

“Oooooh! Looks like I’m gonna keep on tickle tickle tickling you then!” Roman decided.

Roman had moved up to Logan’s kneecaps, when someone else walked in.

“Oh? What’s this?” someone asked.

Roman turned around and brightened up. “Hello little stormcloud! You just caught me in the middle of a ticklish interrogation! Logan got himself stuck in this machine he made, and I’m trying to find out why he made it.” Roman explained to the man.

As you could tell by the nickname, the third person who walked into the room was Virgil.

“Oh? Huh...What have you found out so far?” Virgil asked, growing curious.

“None of your beeswax, was Logan’s sacred answer. So, I guess I have to keep going till he answers me.” Roman replied.

Virgil chuckled. “Mind if I have that remote?” Virgil asked.

Roman nodded. “Sure! Thankfully, all the remote buttons are labeled, so it’s fairly easy to figure out how they work.” Roman explained.

“Looks like it. I see I can choose the amount of hands I want to tickle Logan.” Virgil explained. “How about...2 to start? And...On the hips.” Virgil decided.

Virgil clicked the buttons [2] and [HIPS], and watched as the fingers squeezed and tweaked Logan’s hips.

Logan’s laughter grew a little louder as he laughed, and grew higher in octave as well. “VEEEEHEHEHEHEHEHE! MEHEHERCYYYHYHYHYHY!” Logan pleaded.

“Are you gonna tell us? Tell us the reason behind such a funny invention?” Virgil asked.

“NOHOHO! IHIHIT’S EHEHEMBARASSIHIHIHING!” Logan told them.

“We don’t care. We’re not gonna tell.” Virgil told him. “The only person we might tell is Patton. But that’s only because he’d love to hear it.” Virgil added.

Logan mentally sighed. He really had to tell them, or else he wouldn’t be freed. Logan finally gave in.

“OHOHOKAHAHAY FIHIHIHINE! IHIHI’LL TEHEHEHELL YOHOHOU!” Logan told them.

“Promise?” Roman asked.

“YEHEHEHES! IHIHI PROHOHOMISE!” Logan replied desperately.

Roman smiled confidently and stopped tickling. Virgil also smiled and clicked the [STOP] button to stop the machine.

The machine took a moment or two to slow itself down, before letting the Logical side go. Logan sighed and breathed somewhat heavily to recuperate his lungs. Logan found his lungs to be heavy after being tickled so much.

Logan soon looked at Virgil and Roman. Roman was holding a bottle of water for him, while Virgil was holding a wet cold wash cloth for him. Logan smiled and happily took both items. Logan took a drink of water to help his throat, and dabbed off his face with the washcloth to help cool down. “Thank you, you two. I appreciate the care.” Logan told them.

“No problem.” Virgil replied.

“You gonna tell us now?” Roman asked.

Logan almost choked on his water. Damn...He forgot he had to tell the boys about why he made the invention.

Logan cleared his throat and put the lid onto his water bottle. “Well…” Logan took a moment. “I find that I have been growing more and more touch starved. Basically, I miss being touched, loved, and...tickled. So...I thought I could create a device that gives me what I desire for 5-10 minutes if I need it.” Logan told them.

Roman was about to cry. “Awwww, you poor being! I had no idea you felt that way!” Roman walked up and gave him a hug. “Sacred Wilbur, I would be dying if I were in your shoes.” Roman admitted.

Logan took the hug rather awkwardly, and looked to Virgil.

“I understand where you’re coming from. But, I didn’t expect...this to be a solution you would go for.” Virgil admitted. “You must’ve been desperate.”

Roman giggled. “I see you made a dummy of Thomas’s little Orange side.” Roman teased, showing him the somewhat decently made dummy.

Logan chuckled. “I think he deserves some love.” Logan admitted.

“Agreed.” Roman replied.

Virgil walked himself closer to the machine.

“VIRGIL WAIT-”

Virgil stopped, and yelped as the machine gathered Virgil’s arms and legs into the hands’ grip, and started tickling the key spots that Logan recommended it go for.

Logan bit his lip. “I...Forgot to mention that the machine is now motion sensored…” Logan admitted as he picked up the remote.

“WHOHOHOHOHOAHAHAHAHAHA! IHIHIHIT’S SOHOHOHO EHEHEHEFFEHEHECTIVE!” Virgil reacted.

“Yeah, sorry about that.” Logan told him as he clicked the [STOP] button. “I need to program a timer into the machine to let people got after 10 minutes or so...And I need to fix the [MC OFF] button.” Logan admitted.

Virgil was a giggly mess as he was let go. Noticing Virgil enjoyed it too, Logan clicked a couple buttons on the remote. The hands moved up to Virgil’s sides, and started to tickle and skitter.

Virgil squeaked and giggled helplessly, wiggling around and liking some of the tickles it offered.

“Thihihihis ihihis fuhuhuhun!” Virgil admitted.

“Oh oh oh! I wanna try!” Roman admitted, running to the camera. The sensor sensed Roman immediately, and eagerly watched as the machine gathered Roman into a little grip and started attacking his armpits, feet, and belly.

Logan widened his eyes. He did not know that the machine could tickle two people at once! Roman was lucky he didn’t get caught in the machine earlier…

And so...Virgil, Roman and Logan all enjoyed the machine...And before Logan could get the timer installed, they always made sure that someone had the remote.

Otherwise they would be stuck in the tickle machine forever…

[hes-writer]

Birthday

Summary: harry forgets y/n's birthday

Warnings: angst and fluff if you squint

Word Count: 2871 words

A/N: I’m tired. My head hurts (sucky ending ahead)

___

How silly was it to stare at a phone in anticipation for hours, waiting for it to buzz and light up with a simple banner stating ‘happy birthday!’ from your closest friends? It was a sad reality for Y/N. She was never very outspoken, often opting to keep to herself and speak only when she was comfortable. Friends were a touchy topic because she had lost so many in the past that she didn’t bother making new ones for the sake of not going through another fallen friendship.

What was the point of going through the cycle over and over again if Y/N knew the dreaded ending? She was better off saving herself from heartbreak and stick with the true friends she had.

For the past years, Y/N’s closest friends brought her joy and animated presents to celebrate her birthday. She appreciated them very much, declaring that they only had to give her greetings and she would be happy. They cared so much until they didn’t. Was it because of quarantine that they failed to realize what day it was? Were they busy with work? Were they finishing up a university project worth half of their marks? Did they forget? Y/N wondered what changed.

Having stability within herself was something that she always struggled with. As much as she tried to convince herself that she is important and that she’s worth it—Y/N knew that it was only a matter of time before all those reassurances blew up in her face.

Sometimes she feels as though she cared too much, expected too much and got nothing in return. It wasn’t a competition; really, it wasn’t. Y/N didn’t want to sound entitled but the fact that she remembered the important days and the special occasions, bringing gifts and cheery greetings only to have nothing but empty silence when the day was about her hurt more than a metal scooter to her ankle bone. 

And for the sake of it, Y/N forced herself to understand that her friends didn’t remember. They were still her friends even if she hasn't spoken to them in a while. Their life didn’t revolve around her even if it felt like she dedicated too much of hers caring for them and making sure that they felt good about themselves. Y/N hated to see them sad, doubting themselves to the point where she had to step in—too irritated to bite her tongue because they didn’t deserve to be put down that way whether it was by their own thoughts or somebody else’s.

It was a completely different story with Harry. She and Harry have been together for three years and counting, sharing memories between the two; affection, intimacy and caressing touches imprinted on one another’s skin. He was the most amazing person Y/N had ever met; always pleasing others but knowing when to draw the line. He was both logical and affectionate, never letting his heart rule too heavy on his decisions but always using his head to think it through.

Recently, Y/N felt as if their relationship was taking a low. She wasn’t too concerned because it had happened before and a simple, meaningful talk was often what she and Harry needed to get back on the right track for a long-lasting relationship. The days were passing by continuously, sometimes even confusing her until she found something to look forward to. Her birthday.

—-

The rays battled through the blinds, blinding her with faint yellow sunshine yet Y/N could see the clouds covering the sky, indicating that it was cloudy and frankly, a little bit cold today.

She yawned, pressing her fists against her eye to knuckle on them, rubbing the sleep out before stretching them outwards. She expected to hit a body laying beside her, Harry, but she was met with open-air and a sudden chill enveloping her body despite the thick comforter laying on top of her.

Y/N pressed her palms on the mattress. The creases imprinting indents on her skin as she pushed herself up slightly in alarm. Sure enough, Harry’s side of the bed was empty, wrinkled with his movements from sleep but he was nowhere to be found. His usual humming habits didn’t echo from the bathroom, nor did his constant yelps of clothes falling off the rack reverberate from the walk-in closet. She concluded that maybe he was in the kitchen preparing a special breakfast in bed—waffles and freshly cut fruit were always her favourites.

Y/N smiled at the thought, swinging her legs over the edge of the bed, slipping her feet in her fuzzy slippers before dragging her legs to the bathroom to get ready for the day. Aside from a few work emails needing to be responded to, her day was essentially empty, hoping that her time would soon be filled with long-lasting memories.

Ten minutes later and a questionable frown on her face, Y/N entered the kitchen with a beating heart. The smell of breakfast food didn’t linger in the air as she had expected. In fact, there was nobody there. No one in the living room, nowhere. There was no note taped to the fridge, no gifts sitting on the counter, no cake cooling on the stove rack.

Y/N felt the corner of her mouth dip in disappointment, returning to the bedroom to switch her phone on.

A hole in her chest formed at the sight of an empty lock screen—no messages or calls needing to be tended to because no one had remembered her birthday. She tried not to think too much about it, maybe they were busy or forced by Harry to stay quiet because he had planned a surprise party later in the evening. Y/N sighed, tapping her thumbs to text him ‘where are you 🥺’.

The damage ripped her further apart at a notification showing pictures of ‘Today, 1 Year ago’. She contemplated whether to view them or not, aware that she was torturing herself for not getting the same amount of sentiment as the previous years.

‘meeting. I’ll call you x’ - Harry

Y/N swiped the message up, opting not to reply and wallowing in self-pity as she tried not to let her thoughts get the better of her. Today was supposed to be a happy day so why was she feeling so sad?

Wandering around Harry’s large house, Y/N couldn’t help but feel a cold blanket of loneliness draping over her shoulder. She wished that Harry was here to ease the ache quelling in her heart. All she wanted was to share sweet kisses with his soft lips, to feel his strong arms wrapped around her waist. Hearing his voice whispering dirty thoughts and compliments in her ear while she buried her face on the nape of his neck where his scent was the strongest. Maybe they would bake a cake in the kitchen. Flour dusting the air as Harry let his fingers wiggle to get it off of him. The finished product didn’t always look good but it tended to taste delicious. At least it was edible.

The daydreams in her head moved with the branches swaying outside the window, the fluffy white clouds moving westward as Y/N reeled in memories of her past birthday like a camera roll, creaking with each spin. The flickering blinking with forgotten remnants of happy flashbacks.

It was nearing four in the afternoon when Y/N decided to stop antsily waiting for the device to buzz in hopes of a message from Harry or anybody, really. The slight grief she felt washed over her mind, echoing that she wasn’t important enough to be remembered.

She didn’t want to feel like that anymore.

Y/N didn’t know what bothered her the most. Is it fair for her to expect Harry to remember her birthday? Was it a given? If he came home right now with a present on his left hand, balloons and flowers on his right with a sheepish smile inching up the lower half of his face—would Y/N still feel angry? Sad? Disappointed? All she wanted was him to remember on his own. Maybe then she’ll feel as though she was worth his time. It wasn’t even about the gifts or a celebration—just a simple acknowledgment that meant he cared for her.

She kept asking herself if she should feel sad. If she had the right to feel disappointed. It wasn’t like they made any plans. It wasn’t like he promised to do anything special with her. It felt more and more like a normal day instead of her birthday and Y/N’s heart twinged with realization.

If Harry ‘made it up to her’, was it overpowering guilt that would make him do it? Or because he genuinely forgot? Maybe both? Nonetheless, the hours passed by with barely anything productive being accomplished, having taken the day off for nothing. The device beside her vibrated once, a message from her aunt saying ‘happy birthday’ left a smile on her face. It wasn’t every day that Y/N received a text from her extended family-- she concluded that it was because her birthday was on the same day as her grandfather’s.

____

The sun sunk down beyond the horizon, darkness littering the streets that the light disappeared due to nighttime slowly cycling through the rest of the day. Y/N spent her time as she would any other day, except this time she baked a cake. A pity cake for her gloomy day. She was like a burnt cigarette crumpled on the ashtray, the last traces of orange hue fire spotting into black traces.

Y/N felt foolish wearing a party hat with a string that was way too short stretched around her head. The tightness tramping her that would probably cause slight indentations on her skin. It was nearing midnight when she decided to sing herself a happy birthday and made a wish.

The door unlocked, followed by keys rattling on a hardwood. The flame on her wax candle dancing with the gasp she released as Harry rounded the corner to the kitchen.

“Y/N, you in here?” He froze in place as his eyes caught up with the rest of his body. Harry’s fingers tightened around his phone before slipping it in his back pocket. His mouth parted open, throat closing up as he tried to swallow the lump that formed. The party hat sitting on her head almost took away from the severity of the situation.

He messed up. Really bad.

“Hey, Har,” Y/N greeted, crimping her lips to bare a small ghast to the candle. The flame disappeared in the blink of an eye. Harry’s heart hammered harder in his sternum, Y/N’s plunged to her churning stomach. “Where have you been?”

The tone of her voice was mundane. Harry was trying his best to decipher how she was feeling so that he can act accordingly and that was exactly why Y/N purposefully voided it of any susceptible sentiment.

“Y/N, I-I’m sorry,” He padded his feet closer to her, the kitchen island putting distance between them. She sat on the barstool, removing the hat from her head. She fixed her hair as Harry spoke. “I’m really sorry,”

Green eyes bore through her with a sincere expression, shooting daggers in her heart for staying quiet while Harry apologized profusely. The chocolate frosted cake drooped on the edges--she had a habit of smothering the layers with frosting before it fully cooled down-- just like the corners of her mouth.

“What are you sorry for?”

Harry blinked at her, resting his hands on the edge of the counter. “I forgot your birthday,”

Y/N nodded, “Yeah, you did.”

“Happy birthday, baby” His voice was tender, like a bowl of sweet, milk chocolate. Decadent and rich as it released the words she had been waiting to hear all day long. And frankly, it would’ve been enough to put a smile to her face, but the lack of content for the day embedded her in a mindset that not even Harry’s simple words could dig her out of. The amount of self-reflection she did today was a topic that she had tried to avoid for so long because it was too destructive--she never handled these thoughts well.

Y/N peered at the digital clock on the stove just as it switched to ‘00:01’. Harry followed her gaze, hitching a breath in his throat. She stared at him deeply, "Where were you?”

“Studio. I had a flow, couldn’t stop and I--,” He rambled on, nervously scratching the nape of his neck, fingers playing with the tiny curls. A part of Y/N couldn’t help but feel selfish for making this all about her (even if it was about her). Harry had other commitments besides her. He had a music career that depended on him writing songs. She knew how much it meant to him when a flow was just too good--lyrics spewing out of his mouth, melodies humming from the base of his throat. Harry wrote some of his best work in the middle of the night after dreaming about something that absolutely puzzled her to no end. Remorse spotted in her chest.

“It’s okay,” Y/N said slowly. “You were working hard. I get it,” Her hands reached out for his waist, his Gucci hoodie soft to the touch.

Harry hesitated, opening and closing his mouth, wondering if he should uncover the whole truth. His arms wrapped around her shoulders, his chin jutting on the crown of her head. A sudden breeze slipped up his back when she slid her warm palms under the fabric. “No, I wasn’t,”

“Hmm?”

He cleared his throat, leaning back far enough that he could maintain eye contact with her, “I wasn’t working hard. I was sleeping. I did write some tunes bu’ then I got knocked out for hours and didn’t wake up until eleven,”

“Oh,” Y/N let her hands dangle beside her, a rush of disappointment flooding her every being. She carefully sewed up her next response, “S’okay, you were tired,” And she was too. All she wanted was to cuddle up in their bed and he can make it up to her another day.

“It’s not okay!” Harry retorted. “I forgot about your birthday, left you all alone. I didn’t even text you,” He pounded his fist on the counter, way too close to the chocolate cake that had Y/N sneakily pulling the tray away from him but he caught her, “Didn’t get you a cake. Didn’t buy ya’ a present,”

“Harr--,” She tried to intervene in his monologue. Disappointment still weighed heavily in her chest. However, the sight of Harry fuming at his ability to remember reminded her that she didn’t enjoy seeing him blaming himself. As much as she wished to have this day play out differently, everything was already said and done.

“Stop that, Y/N! I was sleeping while you were blowing a candle out on your own. I was s’pposed to be there with you,”

Salty tears flooded her waterline, overwhelming emotions swamping her and saturating her mind, “No, no, no. Please don’t cry,” He rushed out, willing his legs to stand between hers from the distance he created. His thumb stuck out to pad a tear to her temple, “I’ll make it up to you. I swear it,”

Earlier, she contemplated if he would be acting out of guilt. Seeing the sincerity in his eyes and hearing the intensity of his voice asserting that he had messed up so badly that he reprimanded himself; there was no doubt in Y/N’s mind that Harry would do everything he can to make her feel better.

“Do you care about me?”

“‘Course, I do,” He cringed internally at his words, visibly shuddering as his actions surely emphasized the opposite. “Dunno how I forgot. It must’ve slipped my mind,” The groove in between his brows thickened, his cheek absentmindedly leaning towards her palm cupping his cheek. “I care about you a lot, Y/N.” He breathed through his nose, letting the scent of her fill his lungs.

“Do you love me?’

His lids snapped open, jaw tensing against her skin, “Loads. I love you so much,” He turned his head to kiss her palm, holding her wrist to press kisses on her fingers, her wrist, her forearm.

“I’m really sorry,” He rested his forehead against hers. Y/N tangled their fingers together as she held him close.

“You’re sorry?” She asked, the crest of her lips brushing over his plump ones. Harry nodded, keeping his eyes on hers.

“Very,”

Y/N let her eyes fall shut, peering closer to his cloudy lips and attaching his mouth to his. Her hands travelled to his broad shoulders, straightening her back to reach his height. Harry bent down in retaliation.  They pulled away with a smacking sound, lips glistening from their intense kiss. “S’that mean I’m forgiven?” He mumbled, pressing a kiss on her head.

She scoffed, turning her attention on the cake, “Have you made it up to me yet?”

___

sucky ending, i know.

___

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Birthday Taglist: @millie-753 @tomhiddleston-is-mischief @liaabsurd

[hoodoo12]

The Ties That Bind (And How to Follow Them) 4/?

@bunnys-beetlejuice-blog @werwulfy @turtlepated @strange-n-unbluusual @mel-time @fireflower1015 @go-whovian-universe @sweetcat-666 @genderless-cryptid @monsterlovinghours @heresathreebee @rainingpaint @infptarius

Pate was at a loss. She’d never seen Beetlejuice like this. His hair, already lightened to a pale green shot through with red and yellow and purple in his distress, blanched even further when she mentioned going to Lillian. That alone was enough to convince her that her mentor had somehow trapped him in this mirror-verse where he could see and hear but not be heard.

His increasing upset hurt her deeply, and when he suddenly disappeared from view her heart plummeted and she pressed herself to the glass, hoping to see what he was doing but without him in front of her her own reflection blocked her view. She wished she could reach him, hold him, soothe him, hating her own helplessness.

At length he came back, his pale face even more pale than normal, his ash colored hair still streaked to show his frustration and fear. He looked close to tears, and Pate wasn’t even sure he was capable of tears. His lips moved softly and though she couldn’t hear him the message was clear.

Pate offered him a thin smile and shook her head, pressing her palm to the glass again.

“I’m not going anywhere,” she assured him. “Just give me one second to get my phone and I’m gonna call Lillian. She has to fix this. We’ll make her fix this.”

Keeping her eyes locked on his until the doorway and bedroom wall came between them, Pate dashed to the living room to retrieve her phone, hurrying back to the bathroom where Beetlejuice looked visibly relieved to see her return.

She thumbed through her contacts and smashed Lillian’s name, raising the phone to her ear. It was late, but Pate didn’t care if she woke Lillian up. The phone rang several times before it picked up.

“Hello? Pate? What are you doing calling this time of night?” Lillian asked.

“What did you do to him?” Pate demanded without preamble.

Lillian didn’t answer at first, and Pate heard what sounded like bedclothes being swept aside and a lamp being flicked on.

“I take it you mean the creature that invaded my kitchen,” Lillian finally drawled distastefully. “I did what you should have done, I sent him where he can’t harm anybody.”

“Beetlejuice wouldn’t hurt anybody anyway!” Pate insisted hotly. “He’s my . . . ” she trailed off, glancing at him in the mirror, knowing he could hear what she said. “He’s special. He’s important to me and I care about him,” she said. “You have to let him out. Or at least tell me how to and I’ll do it myself.”

Lillian sighed tiredly, as if she were dealing with a particularly exhausting situation. “Pate, whatever you think he means to you, the bottom line is he’s not human. He’s a demon, a wraith, a trickster. You’re better off without him.”

“I don’t care, tell me what to do to let him out.”

“No.”

The blunt refusal startled her. “You have to! You can’t leave him like this, stuck in my bathroom mirror!”

Speaking mostly to herself, Lillian said, “I should’ve figured he’d worm his way out. Should’ve sealed the mirror, too. Pate, nothing good can come of you having a live-in demon, I don’t care what feelings you might have about it. I’m going back to bed and that entity is staying right where he is. Good night.”

The line went dead. Angry, frustrated and panicked Pate immediately dialed again but it went straight to voicemail. Lillian had turned off her phone.

With a huff she slung her phone onto the counter, fixing Beetlejuice with a desperate expression.

“We’re gonna figure this out,” she said. “We’re gonna go over there and make her let you out.”

An idea struck her, and Pate crossed the room to the cabinets set into the wall, rifling through for what she was looking for. She turned back to Beetlejuice with a hand mirror.

“Do you think you can crawl into this mirror?” she asked. “Then I can take you with me.”

⁂

Out of all the crazy things they'd done together, crawling into a mirror that his lover held was barely a blip on the radar, even if she held it out in front of her or to her side as she walked. He wasn't incredibly excited about being shoved in a purse--or to see Ms. Lillian Borden again, truthfully--but he had no idea what else to do.

Beej heard the one-sided conversation Pate had had, had seen the quick look she’d sent his way before saying he was "special", and could only imagine what her mentor's response to that had been. He doubted anything Pate was going to tell her would make a difference. Still, it would be worth a shot to try and talk reason to the woman. He lifted his shoulder in a shrug as Pate displayed the mirror. He had no clue if her suggestion would work but was willing to try. Motioning her closer, she read what he meant and brought the mirror in her hand up to press against the glass of the bathroom counterpart. For a moment, all he could see was his own reflection. With deeper shadows under his eyes than normal and hair that was washed out more than colored, he looked worse than he thought.

Raising a hand as if to touch the mirror image, the interior surface of the mirror was tacky instead of smooth. It took a bit of effort to actually pull his hand back, and threads of what looked like spun glass, growing thinner the further away he pulled his hand, trailed from his fingertips. It seemed reluctant to let him go. If he was ruining Pate’s bathroom mirror, well, she mentioned in passing updating it anyway. Beej heard her asking what he was doing, if it was working, and decided it was better to just go for it and deal with consequences as they fell. With that determined spirit, he shoved his hand back through the glass. It felt as though he was pushing into molten, but cold, lava, all thick and clinging. Good thing he didn’t need to breathe, because it was going to take a moment to get through it and then get clean of it. Tentacles had to assist carrying him through the two layers of glass. Beetlejuice could only imagine what Lillian would think of those, chuckling to himself, then liquidish glass got in his mouth. There was nothing to do about it at the moment; trying to wipe it away would result in an arm moving backwards and that was not what he wanted right now! Finally, after more effort than he put into a lot of things, he managed to push himself into another endless white space. It didn’t look any smaller than the previous ones, and now he wondered how many compacts or other small mirrors he’d crawled through. The second his feet hit the ground and were free of the glass he found it was gone. There was no residue of any sort. Were all mirrors magic and just needed the right person to activate them? A question for Lillian, if she was willing to take questions from a pupil she seemed to like and a ghost she most definitely did not. Beetlejuice went to pound on the glass to alert Pate he’d moved, but the thought of getting snared by the inside of the new mirror gave him pause. He had to wait until she grew impatient and looked for herself.

⁂

Pate couldn’t help feeling a little foolish, standing with the small, round makeup mirror pressed against her medicine cabinet. Whatever Beetlejuice was doing, his reflection disappeared from the cabinet mirror to be replaced with her own.

Turning the smaller mirror around to face her, Pate beamed to see that the idea had worked, Beetlejuice looked out at her from the handheld mirror.

Wasting no more time she went back through into the bedroom, grabbed her wallet with her license inside from her purse, as well as her car keys.

“Let’s go see Ms. I-Know-What’s-Best-For-You Borden and get you back in the flesh,” she said, addressing Beetlejuice in the mirror as she locked her apartment door behind her.

What would it look like, she wondered, if someone saw her talking to the mirror?

Simple, she told herself. They’ll think you’re crazy. And maybe you are.

This time of night traffic was minimal and it didn’t take long to drive straight to Lillian’s downtown shop/apartment. Pate parked in a spot on the street, closing her door with perhaps a little more force than necessary, locking the car and cradling Beetlejuice’s mirror in her other hand.

There were internal steps up to Lillian’s apartment, but the shop was locked up at this hour. Pate rounded the building, heading for the fire escape. She had to set Beetlejuice down and climb up on a dumpster to reach the ladder, but after a few failed attempts she managed to pull it down with an earsplitting creak of protesting metal.

Retrieving the mirror that held her demon lover, Pate raced up the rickety steel steps as quickly as she dared, finding herself at Lillian’s sitting room window. She tried to open the window, finding it thankfully unlocked. She wouldn’t put it past Lillian to have some otherworldly impediments in place, designed to keep out apparitions but not people. Sliding the window open, Pate swung herself in one leg at a time.

“Lillian?” she called into the apartment, making no pretense at stealth. “Lillian, come out here and undo this.”

Pate didn’t hear that?! Maybe it was just spectral, maybe it was just something only people snared in tiny mirrors could hear, but the cries from inside the antique store from the various beings on the first floor were unnerving. Even the shriek of rusty metal joints on the fire escape moving after years of neglect was melodious compared to them. Something had happened. He didn’t know what, but Beej didn’t like it one tiny bit. He yelled at Pate to stop. Even at the top of his lungs she couldn’t hear him. Dredging up the deepest, most demonic voice he could had no effect. He was mute and helpless.

The television was on, I Love Lucy reruns flickering black and white with the volume low. Pate could see the top of Lillian’s head over the back of her recliner, facing away towards the TV. Angered by being ignored, Pate strode across the room, repeating her demand.

“Lillian, you tell me how to fix this. I don’t want Beetlejuice locked away, he’s -”

Pate cut off abruptly as she rounded the chair and saw the figure seated there.

Lillian Borden’s face was almost blue in the light from her TV, her eyes opened but staring unseeing at the ceiling, hands resting peacefully on the arms of her chair.

She was dead.

⁂ The scene inside the old woman’s apartment was nothing short of a horror movie set up. The lights were off, the room lit only by flickering from the television. Pate was demanding an answer and then a response. She stepped around the chair, and her hand dropped to her side as she choked her own sentence off, and her hand mirror slipped from her fingers, giving Beej a roller coaster ride as it fell, then a great view of the ceiling of the room when it hit the floor. If it was good or bad the glass didn’t break he’d never know, because Pate scooped him up almost as quickly as he’d fallen. Her apology he waved away as no worries, and she turned him towards her mentor in the chair. “Oh,” Beej said quietly at the sight of the dead woman. Now that posed something interesting. Never mind there was no way for her to undo the spell that trapped him in his current state, he didn’t sense her spirit or any evidence she drew a door and left the earthly plane. Of course, his view was limited to wherever Pate pointed his mirror. Or he’d been restricted by Lillian’s hasty capture of him somehow. Whatever it was, it warranted looking into once he was free again.

That was low on the priority list, however. He still needed out, and the woman who’d put him here was well past helping.

tbc . . .

[cant-think-of-anything]

Flower Crowns

This is very self-indulgent. 

Character Pairings: Lucelia/ Carstairs Siblings 

Cordelia dropped her pen and groaned in frustration. She aimed a pointed glare at her brother when he laughed, crumbling up her paper and tossing it at him.

From where he was laying on the couch, head on the armrest and legs slung over Thomas, he caught it nimbly and threw it into the dustbin. 

“Honestly Layla, it shouldn’t be this difficult. Just do something meaningful.”

Cordelia privately agreed. She’d known Lucie for years, known of her feelings about her for months. Perhaps that was why it was such a strenuous task. She wanted to confess but she truly had no idea how to. 

Turning, she addressed Thomas. “How did you reveal your feelings then?” 

He flushed a bit, “Properly reveal them? I gave him a poetry book I wrote in. Everything I made note of was something that reminded me of him.”

“That…” Cordelia trailed off before conceding. “Fine. That is meaningful. But Lucie despises poetry!”

Alastair sighed, pulling himself upright. “Well what does she like then?”

“She likes writing. She likes bread and butter pudding. She likes making flower crowns with me. She likes many things that do not ease my confusion whatsoever.” 

“It seems you aren’t well with romantic gestures. Invite her here for tea and just tell her.”

“I can’t do that! Alone? Absolutely not!”

Cordelia was well aware how panicked she sounded. She was far too afraid that Lucie didn’t reciprocate what she felt. When she voiced this, Alastair rolled his eyes and Thomas laughed with disbelief. 

“Well,” Thomas interjected now, “We could stay here. I doubt it would do much for romance but we can make ourselves scarce.”

Cordelia nodded readily, feeling relief wash over her. She knew she was being ridiculous but she couldn’t help the uncomfortable flutter and the horror of losing Lucie because of her foolish feelings. She pulled a fire message out, something Christopher asked them to test. She warily held it a little ways away from her hair before sending it off. She received a response a few minutes later, her eyes scanning quickly over Lucie’s agreement to meet. 

She took a deep breath, not noticing she was crushing the light green details of her dress until she felt Alastair’s fingers gently pry them off.

“You’ll be fine Cordelia.” He was kneeling on the chair next to her, traces of humor gone from his face. “I know you can’t see it, but we can all tell how strongly you feel for each other.”

She nodded slowly, before offering him a smile. “Should we bake something then?”

~~~

Cordelia balanced the bowl on her lap as a knock sounded from the front door. Thomas went to receive it, as Cordelia tried to brush off some of the flour from her face. It was a hopeless attempt really but it provided as a distraction as anticipation built up inside of her. 

“Cordelia!” Lucie squealed when she made her way into the kitchen. 

She didn’t seem to mind the flour at all, wrapping her arms around Cordelia, lingering long enough for Cordelia’s face to flood with heat. Lucie pulled away, looking a bit breathless as she surveyed the mess on the counter.

“Are we baking?” She said, starting to twist her hair back.

“We aren’t supposed to be,” Alastair interjected from where he and Thomas were cutting thin slices of fruit. “Cordelia’s just a dreadful baker and sets back our progress.”

“That’s perfectly okay. Eugenia and Christopher almost burned Aunt Cecily and Uncle Gabriel’s house down when they made a cake.”

Lucie leaned over to grab a stirrer, the tops of her hair brushing Cordelia’s neck. Oh dear, Cordelia thought wanly to herself.

“Eugenia and Christopher tend to do that wherever they go,” Alastair responded, giving Cordelia a pointed look when Lucie’s head was turned.

Cordelia vigorously shook her head no, she was absolutely not in a state to confess anything. She turned her attention back to the bowl, pretending she couldn’t hear her brother’s long suffering sigh. They were making some sort of cake with fruit but truthfully Cordelia couldn’t be bothered trying to perfect the recipe. 

Pouring the batter into the pan she attempted to focus on what Lucie, Thomas and Alastair were discussing. She felt a tug on her dress, and Lucie moved closer, carefully placing the fruit onto the batter. 

“Well!” Alastair said, gesturing meaningfully with his hands. “We will leave you to clean up. We have to go upstairs.”

“To look at his daggers!” Thomas added when Lucie furrowed her eyebrows.

“Why are they acting strange?” She questioned when they exited. 

Cordelia sighed and took one of Lucie’s hands, the only thing urging her to talk was the way Lucie’s pulse sped up under her touch. Lucie ceased talking, her bright blue eyes blown wide, the pupil expanding quickly. Cordelia was quite a bit taller, causing her to crane her neck back so they could… well stare at each other. Moving hesitantly, Cordelia moved to brush a curl from Lucie’s face. 

“I need to tell you something,” she started uncertainly, her voice hushed and unsteady.

Lucie’s lips pulled up into a small smile but she didn’t speak.

“You know already don’t you?”

“I do now,” she breathed, looping her arms around Cordelia’s neck and pulling her down so their foreheads could press together.

Cordelia laced her fingers through hers when Lucie pulled back, a grin spreading across her face. “I suppose Thomas and Alastair were right.”

“That’s why they’ve been so awkward? I was afraid something had happened.” 

Lucie reached into the basket she’d brought with her as she talked, pulling out a  woven crown of daisies. Cordelia raised her eyebrows, sitting back on the kitchen stool as Lucie drew closer again. She placed the flower crown on top of Cordelia’s head, adjusting her hair around the dainty buds.

“Daisy,” She said happily, drawing back to look at her. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten.”

Cordelia laughed, flushing a bit and motioning for her brother and his partner, who both had shown up in the kitchen archway to come back into the room. Alastair gave her an unimpressed look and picked up the pan.

“Next time,” he said, sliding the uncooked cake into the oven. “Try to put that in before your excruciatingly awkward confession, yes?” 

Cordelia blew some of the flour on the counter onto his hair causing him to flick the remaining batter onto her dress. The room filled with laughter and warmth, lingering in the air long after a disapproving maid wiped the last bits of flour from the floors.

Tag List: @adoravel-fenomeno @barbra-lightwood @foxglove-airmid @alastair-esfandiyar-carstairs1 @eugeniaslongsword

[penguintransporter]

Daisies (a short “anyone you want it to be with” story) Part II

part I | masterlist

__

According to one of the many dictionaries around the world wide web, the word regret can be described as ‘a feeling of sadness about something sad or wrong, or about a mistake that one has made, and a wish that it could have been different and better’.

No human being is spared of the particular feeling of regret at some point in life, and as such, it exists to teach us new views and ways of doing things differently. After all, we, people are born to make mistakes, to repent and to carry the consequences of things we did or things we do, and in the end, we are made to learn from our experiences. 

Still, humans wouldn’t be humans if there weren’t exceptions, and he knows he is one of them.

As he sits up and reaches out for his watch that had been resting on the bedside table, he adds another thing to, what it felt like, a never-ending list of the things he is going to regret sooner or later. Like hypnotized, he finds himself staring at time as it slowly ticks away – each second feeling heavier than the one before, and it takes him a good, full minute before he blinks and looks down at her.

She has a questioning look on her face, but she doesn’t say anything as she pulls the cream-coloured sheet over her chest, which in return, exposes her smooth leg that he eagerly touched, just a handful minutes ago, but now, it makes him sick just to think about his own behaviour. He feels like an awful person for using her as a distraction; for giving in into yet another act of intimacy that meant very little once the moment of bliss and satisfaction left his body.

But, fight fire with fire, they say.

He gives her a small smile – just a lift of one of the corners of his mouth before he looks away and smoothly gets up to put his clothes back. 

Both his heart and his head were a mess. 

The mess he created with his own behaviour and poorly made decisions.

What are you doing?

He wasn’t supposed to be there, in this minimally furnished bedroom, sitting half-naked at the edge of this enormous bed.

He was supposed to be on the other side of the city, at the airport, just like everyone else who cared about her, and as he slips his t-shirt on, he cannot help but wonder if she even had the tiniest clue about why he couldn’t bring himself to be there? If she expected his absence?

A coward at his finest.

Truth to be told, and he can only be honest with himself when he thinks, he wanted to be there.

He wanted to be there to give her a hug, to wrap his arms around her and breathe in the faint traces of her perfume that seemed to be stuck in every item of clothing she owned – daisies-patterned or not. He wanted to be there for her, like he should, to whisper in her ear to take care of herself and to call him often; to visit whenever.

More than anything, he wanted to admit to her how much he cares, and even if his own idiocy caused her pain in the past, he wanted to be a selfish bastard one last time and ask for another chance for a future together. 

He wanted to tell her how much he wants her, every bit of her; how much he needs her.

How much he regrets that he let her slip away.

If only he had the guts to be there and to be honest with her for once. Maybe she would have changed her mind and stayed? Maybe she would have, just like in the movies, turned around just before boarding her flight? Maybe she would have ran into his arms and he was sure that he would have held her, never letting go.

If only.

He knows that he is being foolish.

To think that some empty words would change her mind and make her stay was the most ridiculous thing to do, because, how can he even begin to ponder that he deserves another chance? That he has any right to be selfish? 

Deep down he knows that he doesn’t, because, when she held her heart on her sleeve for him to take it, he ignored it, pushing it aside; toppling it over with force and shattering it.

Because all the others were more interesting, more exciting, more everything.

He trampled over the field of daisies, leaving a trail of broken stems behind.

How can he even think that some words would make them heal; make them flower again.

“You can stay, you know,” she speaks as she props herself on her elbow.

He shrugs a little, getting up. “I have some plans for later.”

No, he doesn’t.

She doesn’t say anything, but he knows that she’s watching him because he feels her eyes following his every move, but he finds it difficult to look back. Ashamed, disgusted and annoyed with himself – that’s how he feels because he knows how wrong it is to keep this farce of a relationship going; to keep hurting her, to use her as a distraction. Many men and women would have been more than happy to have someone as stunning as she is as their partner, and at one point in his life, he was one of them, but now, nothing about the relationship felt right.

Empty, shallow conversation that didn’t matter, curt answers, with silence filled moments, and occasional sex was all that was left out of them ever since he realised he was in love with someone else. Ever since he began to imagine some other lips kissing him, some other body in his arms, some other fingers crawling at his back; some other breaths and moans against his cheek – his relationship with the girl who watches him curiously as he dresses himself in a dimly lit room he once was familiar with, deteriorated.

Daisies.

When he finally leaves her apartment, clutching his phone in his hand, he isn’t surprised to see several missed calls and few unread text messages – all of which came from the same person – his teammate, and one of the people who tried to take off the blindfold he carried over his eyes.

As his eyes scan over the screen, each line of the text slaps him harder than the previous one.

You should have been here.

You owe her that much.

Are you really not going to show up?

And then, the last slap that knocks him out – figuratively – is the photograph.

Five people that he cared about so dearly, all huddled together as they grinned at the camera, but his eyes stay locked at one face in particular, and that’s when the regret for not being there overwhelms him even more than before.

Is this how it will end? 

Will their story end before it had the chance to begin?

Seeing their faces in that single picture; seeing her bright smile, and those eyes shadowed with sadness – he wishes that he was there as well, next to her, having his arms around his friends, pulling a face or telling a bad pun that would make them laugh before the flash goes off.

The watch on his hand ticks away slowly as he sits in his car, slamming the doors harder than he wanted to. Even if he starts to drive now, breaking every speed limit and ignoring every red light on his way, he wouldn’t be able to get there on time. 

He wouldn’t be able to get there on time to hug her, to say every word that was on his mind; to make her stay.

Like writing a poetry book, he adds another verse of regret, lined up perfectly – one after another as he backs his car onto the road, taking the opposite direction to the one that would take him to the airport.

He was late.

🌼

part III

Hope you liked the second part, there will be third part as well, if not tonight then mid-week. I had a really rough and busy patch at work last week so I wasn’t able to update. Make sure to check out my masterlist (pinned post), and to tell me what you think about this one. As before, I kinda want to tag people here because I think they are all amazing writers and mutuals.

@rosie7703, @emwritesfootball, @avenirdelight, @alexajanecollins, @afootballimagines, @footballerimaginess, @footballxwrites, @just-imagines, @donkeykai​

If I forgot someone, please message me and I will add you :)

[nicka-nell]

Hiii love🖤 sorry for being so late in the game but I am ✨excited✨ for this. Thank you so much for holding this mini event;) I got Hirugami + fluff + jealousy + friends with benefit to lovers, with 2 & 13 aaand Sakusa + angst to fluff + enemies to lovers + kidnapped, with 43 & 7. If I misread the rules/anything please let my tired brain know ok;) lots of love bb!

Friends with benefits (Hirugami x reader)

Enemies to lovers (Sakusa x reader)

Hi Xave, I’m so so sorry it took me so long to answer this! It’s a bit short... but I hope you still like it.

I hope you are fine, safe and healthy! And thank you for sending in a request. ♥♥♥

Valentine’s Day - Prompt Event | Masterlist (coming soon)

Pairing: Hirugami x  reader (friends with benefits)

Warning: jealousy, friends with benefits to lovers, fluff

Prompts:

2. Kiss me again, like you mean it. 

13. You can’t say you haven’t thought about it? I have.

Hirugami is your best friend. Back then, you were always close. You had the perfect friendship. The balance between the interactions was just right. You didn’t see each other too often that you got on your nerves, but you weren’t separated too long to miss the other one.

But a few months ago, everything got weird. To fall off balance. Because after graduating from high school, he invited you to a house party at a friend’s house. There you were supposed to celebrate your graduation when you two drank too much.

Somehow you ended up on your way home with Hirugami, in his bed, together with him without clothes, without distance. Only your warm bodies lay on each other while you whispered indecent things. You have slept together, crossed the line of friendship and made a step that only couples actually make. But you were just friends.

After this incident, both of you try to behave as always, but without success. It feels weird, kind of bizarre…

Two weeks go by, and again you move silently next to each other while you walk a big round with his dog. As always, he takes him off the leash when you arrive at the dog park and sit on the bench, watching him play with other dogs. Just you don’t talk like you always do. You only sit next to each other in silence, looking forward as you cling your fingers to the fabric of your clothes. 

“Listen Y/n… I think we should talk about the incident a few weeks ago. Don’t you think?” With Hirugami’s words, your heart beats faster. It would be a lie to say that you didn’t like the night with him. Never would you have thought that Hirugami can be so passionate and loving, but also wild at the same time. You’d have expected him to be stiff because of his habit of making everything perfect. 

“Yes? What do you want to talk about?” You ask hesitantly, while you still dare not look him in the eye. 

“Okay, now that sounds weird, but… What happened after the party… that we… that we slept together… I know it’s wrong, but it felt great Y/n. I have caught myself in the two weeks now more often with the thought, how it would probably be if we would repeat this… So just as friends… without feelings.” 

His words are very calm, hesitant as they come out of him, almost as if he wants to find the right words for such a wrong topic. And for the first time after these two weeks, you’re really looking him in the eye. You scan his embarrassed expression as he plays with the leash in his hand.

You notice how his cheeks are becoming more and more colored every second you stay silent. But his gaze remains serious. “I mean… You can’t say you haven’t thought about it? I have. I really have… a lot…” His eyes stay on yours all the time, never looking away.

Your heart is racing inside you, and you’re sure he can hear it now. But even though you’ve often thought about it, your head tells you it’s not right. Yet your words deceive you. “Sounds good. Just sex… no feelings.” 

If you’d known how much you’d fall in love with him every time you slept together, every time you kissed, all those wonderful words he’d whispered to you with passion, you’d have said no to him loudly. Then the whole friends with benefits thing was one of your biggest mistakes. 

The addiction to Hirugami, his touch, his bare skin, and his irresistible look made you fall in love with him every time he told you how beautiful you are. To fall in love with your best friend. 

You quickly realized that you had to do something about it, distract yourself, and forget your love for him. Good, that at this time, an old school friend was single again and you two somehow ended up with a date. He would be perfect to distract your mind. At least that’s what you thought.

Because even though he’s really an incredibly nice man, and is handsome, all you have to think about is Hirugami. On his soft brown hair, these warm and beautiful eyes in the same color. Why do you have to think of him now, when you’re spending the evening with another person?

“Hey you know… I’m not feeling well today… can we postpone the evening to another time?” You’re lying because you know for a fact that you will not date him again. 

Your old school friend looks at you a little worried, but then just nods and insists on at least bringing you home.

Hirugami knows he should only use the key for your apartment in emergencies. But that was one, wasn’t it? Because all evening you don’t answer your phone, don’t answer his messages or calls. He just wants to see if you’re okay and then leave.

But your apartment is empty. “Y/n? Are you at home?” he calls into your empty living room, but no one answers him.

Quietly he walks towards your bedroom, opens the door carefully to prevent you from waking up, if you were lying in bed. Yet your room is empty, just a few clothes scattered on your blankets. Are you just getting ready and are in the bathroom?

Through the living room, past the kitchen, he goes into the hallway to the bathroom, knocks a few times, and asks if you’re in there. Again there is no answer, the room is as cold as the rest of your apartment.

Sighing, his body moves him to your living room window, to the windowsill with the picture of the three of you. He, you and his dog. All three of you have fallen into the mud, and while you and his dog happily look into the camera, he desperately looks down on his clothes.

He doesn’t notice how the corners of his mouth pull upwards as he holds the image in his hands. The day was really nice, and when he thinks about it, every day was nice as long as he had spent it with you.

He still smiles as he puts the photo back on the windowsill, but his smile fades as he looks out the window and sees you there.

You’re not alone, a man is in your company, has his arm a little too affectionate to your waist while you both look at each other laughing. Hirugami’s chest contracts as this man gives you a kiss on the cheek and watches you with a wide smile as you walk to the front door. One last time you wave to each other before he turns around and goes in another direction. 

Hirugami’s feelings play wild, he is angry and sad at the same time. His heart hurts and his thoughts are not clear. He knows why it bothers him so much. But he thought it wouldn’t annoy him that much if he saw you with someone else. 

He thought he could hide his feelings. But it was foolish of him to think that the sight of you with another man would leave him cold when he loves you. And he was so sure that you also see more than a friendship in you.

Hirugami can hear the key in your door as you enter with a sigh. His gaze wanders from the picture to you, realizing your surprised expression. 

“Sachirou, what are you doing here?” You ask confused before you close the door and approach him. “Why don’t you answer your phone? I’ve been trying to reach you the entire time.” He says with a somewhat too instructive voice.

“Why are you being so snappy? I was out wi-”

“Yeah, I saw it… With that guy down there. He’s not suitable for you, Y/n…” He interrupts you with a harsh tone, looking deep into your eyes as he reduces the distance between you. You stand one step away from each other, feel each other’s warmth.

“And you want to know... what or who’s best for me?” You laugh with a bittersweet undertone. After all, you know what your heart wants, which person would be best for you.

“I am.” His serious voice suddenly echoes in your ears, even though it is quiet, you hear his voice loud and clear. Only this two words make your pulse rise, your body tingle and your cheeks become warmer.

Unbelievably, you look at him, don’t dare ask him what he means when he keeps talking.

“I know we’re both more than friends. This friend with benefits thing wasn’t right. Either we’re friends or lovers. But if we keep this up, we’re both gonna get hurt. And I can see it in your eyes. I can see it in your eyes every time we kiss, every time we sleep together… You can’t tell me I’m the only one who has more than friendly feelings.” 

It surprises you how his words can remain as calm as he says all this to you, while everything rages inside you. You’re about to ask him so many questions. Tell him so much, but instead only a quiet and brief tone comes out between your lips. “Then… kiss me…” 

You see Hirugami’s eyes grow bigger; he gets nervous and all the calm leaves his body. How rooted he stands there, looking at you wordlessly as he brings all his courage together and bends forward, giving you an insecure, fleeting and incredibly short kiss.

Even though he kissed you a lot, this kiss feels different. He wants to do everything right, instead does everything wrong. Confused, your eyes met his. Have to avoid a small laugh at the clumsy sight that forms in front of you.

“Kiss me again. Kiss me like you mean it,” you whisper to him, take the last step towards him and never interrupt your eye contact. Your sentence suddenly gives Hirugami so much self-confidence, so much security, that you almost can’t finish it when his lips hit yours again. This time longer. Full with love and passion.

As if he were holding a treasure in his hands, he embraces your cheeks with his hands, buries his fingers in your hair, as his tongue strokes your lips to ask for permission. 

Your kiss is getting more and more intimate, more fiery. None of you want to let go. But your red puffed-up lips separate when Hirugami suddenly releases from your kiss.

“I love you Y/n. Let me show you this,” and even before you know it, you are in his muscular arms, your feet no longer touch the ground as he lets you down on the couch and shows you his love openly.

Pairing: Sakusa x  reader (enemies to lovers)

Warning: angst to fluff, enemies to lovers, kidnapping

Prompts:

7. I never thought I’d see you again. 

43. How mad would you be if I kissed you?

It’s not always easy to work as a spy when your brother is the boss of the whole mob force. All they tell you is that you’re the little sister and you do not know what you’re actually doing. You’d only be there because Ushijima was worried about you.

Even more annoying that you are in the trunk of some people, gagged and tied up and don’t know where you are being taken. The confirmation for these idiots that you’re really not strong enough alone. Slowly the lid of the trunk opens, two men with guns standing in front of you. Dressed dark with disgusting faces. “Come on…” The blond-haired one hisses as he pulls you out of the car by your cuffed wrists.

You try to make a painful sound, but the tape that ties your mouth prevents it. With a jerk, the blonde man lifts you up, casually throws you over his shoulder as he walks along a bald gray hallway with his comrade. 

They bring you into a damp, cold room made only of musty concrete and a flickering lamp. Roughly the blonde man takes you off, brings the steel chains to you to tie you with it, and removes the sloppy and much too firmly attached rope on legs and arms.

With a grin, he looks at your face, checks your body before he lets his hands off you and puts them against his hip. “As long as the boss isn’t here, we can do other things with her. Don’t you think, Bokuto?” The blonde man laughs mockingly while licking his lip.

But the gray-haired only stare at him awkwardly. Scratches his head and looks back and forth between you and him. “Atsumu… I don’t think Sakusa would be so thrilled if we did anything to her without his permission.”

Sakusa… You’ve heard that name before. Now it comes back to you. A few years ago, your brother wanted to make an alliance with him. For your two groups have long been enemies. Only the alliance never came. Because on the day of the meeting point, where you agreed to make an arms deal, the police came. Your people have died, so have Sakusa’s men. Both troops accused the other squad, no one wanted to admit that he had betrayed the others. To this day, you don’t know if it was one of your own men or one of Sakusa’s men. And even though you’ve heard so much about him, you’ve never met him personally. To be honest, you’d wish it had stayed that way.

Just as Atsumu wants to say something, the door opens and a tall, dark-haired man with raven-black eyes enters the room. He is pretty, almost like a model who would be booked for a canvas painting in the museum. But when Bokuto speaks to the man by his name, your blood freezes to ice.

“Sakusa, we prepared everything. No one saw us. So… what are we gonna do with her?” He asks, clearly intimidated by his boss, move one step backwards to observe what the dark-haired one is doing.

An arrogant look adorns his skin, while he touches your face with his latex-covered fingers, turns it a few times before he lets go and examines you again. “Well done, that should be Ushijima’s sister.” He says, still looking at you and continuing with his next sentence.

“You have the choice, princess. Either you talk, and tell me which one of you was that sneaky rat who snitched on us, or you don’t talk, we’ll torture you until you sing and then kill you. Ushijima won’t be pleased if your body comes back home piece by piece, right?” He hisses and looks at you expectantly, as if he wanted to hear a direct answer from you right now.

But you laugh bitterly. “One of ours? We didn’t betray you. We wanted to work together with you. Wakato… Ushijima really thought a lot of you Sakusa.” 

To his astonishment, your voice is soft. You have no fear, despite all his words. Either you’re a really talented actress or you don’t care about your life. “Looks like you don’t want to talk. Fine…” 

His gaze sweeps over to Bokuto and Atsumu. Nodding at the men, he turns away from you completely. “You know what to do.” With these words, he leaves the room, closes the door that might have helped you to freedom, and leaves you alone with the two men who will ruin your life.

But no matter what the men threaten you, no matter what they do, you don’t talk. You would never betray your brother, your own flesh and blood. 

Sakusa never thought you were so stubborn. He is sure that after these two weeks, even the two men would have betrayed him to protect their life. For a few days he thinks about what he can do instead. What he can do to make you talk, because for some inexplicable reason, he can’t kill you.

In the end, it is Atsumu who gives him an idea he would not have thought of. He suggests that Sakusa pretend to love you. To have an eye on you. First Sakusa considers the idea itself absurd, but then thinks it is worth at least a try.

So he’s trying everything to make you love him and talk to him. He’s pretending to interrupt Atsumu when he’s trying to hurt you. Tell him he didn’t send him, just to free you from your shackles and bring you into the room next to his own. A huge room, beautifully decorated with a large and comfortable bed.

He gives you fresh towels, shows you the bathtub and shower so you can freshen up. Sakusa lovingly treats all your wounds. He always cooks you fresh food, makes sure that you regularly get enough to drink and enough vitamins.

Sakusa constantly brings you the biggest and most beautiful rose bouquets. Gorgeous dresses are more and more common in the room and fill your wardrobe. More often he stays with you for a while, telling you some stories from his past.

Shockingly, you also begin to like the closeness to Sakusa more and more. How you enjoy the conversations and ask him one or the other question. Often you catch yourself telling Sakusa about you, your childhood and the things you love.

You also tell him that you don’t really like all the roses he always gives you, because you prefer the little colorful field flowers, since they are available in all colors and shapes. They grow in all areas and no matter where they are, they just look beautiful.

He carefully notes your comment, promising that he will eventually take you behind the wood to the mountains, where there is a large meadow with wildflowers.

Too late you realize that you have fallen in love with him, that you also tell him about Ushijima, about his strengths and his fears. But you can’t undo your words.

You feel stupid when you stand next to the door, comb your hair and look in the mirror, and hear a conversation between Atsumu and Bokuto. “She’s so stupid, really thinks our boss loves her. Give her a few more days and she’ll chirp like a bird. She’ll tell Sakusa everything she knows.” Atsumu’s voice is like a knife in your heart.

The stabbing pain just doesn’t go away, gets even worse when the door to your bedroom opens and Sakusa steps in. Directly your eyes become glassy, and you want to hit him with your fists and throw nasty words against his head, but instead you just stand still, letting your tears touch the soft carpet on your feet.

He doesn’t need words to see what you want to say to him. He doesn’t need movements, because your tears are moving enough. Your lips only form a mute “why?” when Sakusa swallows the big lump in his throat and wants to reach for your wrists. But you’re just pulling away.

“Y/n...I really love you…” You hear the voice of the black-haired one, which only makes you look bitter. “Sure…” You answer crying and hate yourself for being so naïve. “I’m serious. It’s true, I wanted to play all this for you, but I really fell in love with you. In the person you are… Tell me how to prove it to you, and I’ll do it! I’ll do anything you want.”

“Then let me go home!” You interrupt him loudly and watch his face as his words fall silent and he stares at you with an empty expression. If he lets you go now, he’ll never see you again. If he lets you go now, Ushijima and his squad will find him and march in. More people will spill their blood. But if he lets you go now… Does he tell you in his own way that he loves you? Does he tell you in his own way that he’s serious and he’s sorry?

Then even Sakusa, too late, realized that he hadn’t come to you for a long time to get information from you, that he just wanted to come to you to spend time with you. “All right. Go.” He whispers quietly, his eyes on yours all the time as he steps away from the door and signals you that you can move.

“Down the stairs, first door on the right…There’s no one there, you’re free.” Are his last words before he sees your body running away from him and you are no longer with him. The space filled with so much life, so much love is now empty, just like his inner.

Time passes, nothing has happened. You are back with Ushijima, who in the meantime had turned a lot upside down to find you. You tell him everything you know and everything that happened. Yet you’re not attacked by Sakusa and his men.

On the contrary, Ushijima’s business is more peaceful than ever. No incidents, no attacks. Nothing. 

You should be happy because you are back home, safe, but no matter what you do, his face doesn’t go out of your head and your heart hurts every time.

You don’t realize how one day your body drives you into the deep woods, behind these, to many gigantic mountains and a huge pasture with field flowers. It is beautiful there. The flowers grow like wild on the meadow, in blue, yellow, red, pink and many other colors.

They are big and small, dancing in the light wind, which puts a smile on your face. In love with this beautiful view, you sit on the soft lawn. Brush the grass with your fingers and breathe in the beautiful flower air.

“I never thought I’d see you again.” A familiar but painful voice makes your shoulders twitch. With big eyes, you turn around, looking at the handsome dark-haired man, who approaches you with an anxious smile and a large bouquet of field flowers.

You would like to throw so many things at his head, say unfriendly things, but other words leave your mouth. “How did you know I’d be here today?” 

You see him thinking about whether he’s really telling you the truth or lying to you. He still stands several steps away from you, almost as if he didn’t dare to come near you. “You know, I was here every day with a bouquet of flowers… Hoping you’d be here, too.”

His words surprise you. After all, over two months have passed. Two months where he was here every day? Getting his hands dirty every day picking flowers, even though he’s so pure?

“I don’t know what to say, Sakusa…” Is the only thing you can say, because he overwhelms you with the whole situation. You find it incredibly romantic that he was here every day. You see in his gaze that he is really serious.

“You don’t have to say anything, just… Can you forgive me? I did nothing to harm you or Ushijima.” A small smile forms on your face as you knock on the grass next to you and signal that he should come to you. 

First he hesitates, but then goes towards you and hands you the bouquet before he takes his jacket, puts it on the ground and sits on it. Full of joy, you smell the beautiful flowers, inhale the soft scent, before you look at Sakusa, who watches you with a warm expression.

“I forgive you if you eat an earthworm.” You say laughing and wait for Sakusa’s reaction. You know he would never do such a thing. 

“Gross…” He just hisses, but you see him struggling with it, looking at the ground, yet always shove his gaze in your direction, hoping you tell him it was just a joke. Laughing, you put the flowers away, wipe your tears from your face as you put your hand on his back.

“Oh god Sakusa, that was just fun! Please don’t eat earthworms!” You see relief throughout his body as he puts his hand on his chest, where his heart is. “Oh god Y/n… I really thought I had to eat an earthworm. I almost had a heart attack.” He whines, listens to your laughing voice and the little “sorry” that comes out of your mouth and kisses his ears.

He is silent for a long time, just looks at you until you have calmed down and now look at him questioning. “What’s wrong?” You ask with a smile, but he just laughs back softly, takes off his glove, and covers your cheek with his naked skin. His warm look becomes serious, yet remains loving.

“How mad would you be if I kissed you?” His words jump on your lip, make your cheeks glow, but your gaze is teasingly. “I don’t know. Find out.” You whisper, as Sakusa’s voice quickly interrupts you.

“Oh, be sure, I will. And another thing… Call me Kiyoomi, pretty girl.” He breathes throaty as his lips meet yours. This time with proper feelings, real love.

[chocoluckchipz]

A Soulmate for Christmas - 1

No one but you see your soulmate mark. Not unless your soulmate touches it, and even then, it only glows for a moment. Most consider that a blessing, but Marinette would say it’s a blessed curse. Because how was she supposed to find the boy who left a black cat mark on her hand fifteen years ago in the city that wasn't even located in France? So when she finds a model flaunting the mark she put on him all those years back in a magazine, she has hope for a moment. That is until she notices the article discuss his imminent engagement to someone else.

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

"So, what’s the emergency?"

Marinette’s hand emerged from under the covers, pointing in the direction of her desk. "The new Paris Fashion. Page thirty."

Alya whistled upon reaching the said page. "Looking good, M Agreste. Good enough to turn my best friend into a hot mess with a single picture."

"This isn’t funny, Al. Look at his chest!"

"Pure lean muscle. Perfectly toned. He's growing up nicely. Though, I fail to see why this is a big enough emergency for you to make me bail on lunch with Nino."

"Look. At. His. Chest." Marinette crawled out from under the comforter and stomped toward Alya, pointing at the particular spot on the picture. "This. Look at this."

"A ladybug tattoo? So—Wait!" Alya looked up at Marinette, her finger pointing to the ladybug mark painted on his chest. "Are you telling me that’s his—" 

"Right where I put it!" Marinette cried, ducking back under her covers. "See? He exists! I told you. I can’t believe you were doubting me all this time!"

"Well, excuse me, but you were five, and he sounded too good to be true. Little boys don’t usually go out of their way to help crying girls they don’t know find their flirting grandmas at a fashion show in Milan. Little boys don’t kiss said little girl’s hand as a farewell while they are at it. And they certainly don’t ask for the girl to kiss their soulmate mark into existence as close to their heart as she possibly could. ‘So, they won’t forget her,’ right?"

"So, he could always keep me close to his heart," Marinette corrected. "But that doesn’t matter now. You were right. That boy doesn’t exist anymore, and this one isn’t as good as I thought he was, so whatever. I’ll get over him and move on. There are plenty of guys out there. One of them is bound to like me more than money, fame, and prestige."

"What do you mean? Shouldn’t you be happy your crush is your soulmate?"

With a pitiful groan slipping her lips, Marinette buried her face into her pillow. "Ugh! I can’t believe I ever felt guilty for crushing on him. I thought I was a horrible person betraying my soulmate for some handsome, sexy supermodel. Foolish me. He doesn’t deserve any of my attention."

"Marinette, seriously. What do you mean?"

"Read the article."

Alya fell silent as soon as she noticed the title. "‘Paris’ most eligible bachelor reveals… a long-time secret relationship with his childhood friend Kagami Tsurugi. Doesn’t deny Christmas Eve engagement rumour.’ Oh."

"And you know what the worst part is?"

"What can be worse than discovering that your long-time crush is your long-lost soulmate and then finding out he’s been not only dating someone else but very likely will propose… tonight?"

"How about being at the same party at the same time. As a waitress."

Alya swore under her breath and put the magazine down. "Mayor Bourgeois’ Christmas Gala?"

Marinette nodded. "The article said they both confirmed they will be attending. I'll get a front-row seat to my soulmate's proposal to someone else. Lucky me."

"Then don’t go," she said, sitting down beside Marinette. "I’ll go in your place."

Marinette couldn’t let her do that. Nino was going to propose tonight, so Alya couldn’t be anywhere but with him. "You’re spending your first Christmas with Nino’s family. I’m not standing in the way of that."

"I can spend New Year Day with them."

"You’re going to the French Alps with your family that weekend. Don’t try to weasel out of it. Your mom has been planning that trip for months. Nora’s flying in specifically for it."

"I’m not trying to weasel out. I’m trying to help you, M."

"And I appreciate it, but I’m not making you go instead of me."

"What about your father?"

"The doctor said he shouldn’t be getting up for at least another week or his leg might not heal properly and he’ll end up with a prospect of a surgery which we’re trying to avoid."

"Then, I’m sure Rose or Juleka wouldn’t mind stepping in."

"No." Marinette sat up on her bed. "They have plans, and I’m not going to ruin them. I’ll just have to grow a pair and face him like the strong, independent woman I am. Or rather go help Maman and avoid him at all cost. He’s not even going to recognize me anyway. I didn’t. Not until I saw that photo."

"That’s true. I doubt he remembers much about you. You were babies when you met, so just stay away from him and keep your hands covered. That way even if you accidentally touch he won’t see it. A pair of gloves perhaps?"

"Mayor has uniforms for all the servers, even those coming in with the caterers, so no gloves for me. But as long as I do my job and pretend like I’m not in the same room with my soulmate who clearly didn't think me worthy enough to search for and instead decided to date this very famous, very influential, extremely rich girl from his own circle, I should be fine."

"I’m so sorry, M." Alya wrapped her arms around Marinette, bringing her into her chest for a cuddle. "Men are stupid. Some more than the others. Especially the rich and spoiled ones."

Marinette scoffed bitterly. "Don’t I know it. I got plenty of examples from being in the same class as Chloe Bourgeois for years." 

"Isn’t Adrien Chloe’s friend?"

"I think so. I was hoping Adrien wasn't like her. Clearly, that isn't the case."

"You'll get over him soon, and we'll find you a nice, handsome, smart man who will cherish and love you for who you are."

"Soulmates are so last century anyway, right?" Marinette swallowed back the knot in her throat. No matter how much she tried to convince herself, this hurt. "I’m sure he doesn’t even remember meeting me. We were five. Who would be holding on to a memory of a random girl in Milan? And even if he did remember me, he probably thinks I live there. I thought my soulmate lived in Milan until he decided to show off his stupid soulmate mark to the whole world. Who does that, anyway? Those are supposed to be one of the most intimate of details of one’s life. You don’t just show it to everyone, and certainly not to the whole world while announcing your engagement to someone else." 

Her eyes fell to her hand where, invisible to everyone but her, an image of a black cat lay, a mark Adrien Agreste left there more than a decade ago with his first kiss to her skin. Just like a mark of a ladybug appeared on his chest when her lips touched it upon his request. He said he wanted to keep her close to his heart, so it would be easier for him to find her.

What a load of BS.

"Have you ever thought that, perhaps, that could’ve been a message to you?" Alya asked. "He went through the trouble of painting over his soulmate mark for the photoshoot so others could see it. It has to mean something. No one is dumb enough to think that if Adrien Agreste releases topless photos while announcing something as big as a possible engagement, there would be at least one person in France, or even Europe for that matter, who wouldn't see it. He knew his soulmate would see it."

Marinette laughed. Bitterly. "Yeah, a great message. ‘Here is my soulmate mark, my dear soulmate. In all the years I knew you existed, I didn’t bother to find you. But I did make sure that this picture, in which I showcase to the whole world the mark you left me, came along with an article where I discuss how much I love my girlfriend you'll never compare to in status, money or looks. Not that I even care about your feelings, announcing that an engagement is in the near future for me and my darling childhood friend.’ Yeah. This is definitely a message, Alya. He says ‘Screw you, Marinette. I’m better off with Kagami Tsurugi, and I thought you should know that.’"

Alya wrapped her arms around her tighter. "First of all, only brainless idiots would take status and money over love. Second, you’re the prettiest, smartest, and the most successful woman I've ever known, and third, you're an amazing and wonderful person who's on her way to becoming one of the best designers in Paris, so don’t you bring yourself down because of a stupid man who doesn't realize what he lost."

"It's my fault anyway. That's what I get for letting that stupid, cute boy kiss my stupid hand at a stupid fashion show in stupid Milan."

"You were five, M. And he was a dashing gentleman, helping you find your grandmother in a strange city you got lost in. You couldn't have known he's your soulmate. No one could have."

"Right. And he won’t recognize me, so I’ll be fine. He won’t even look a waitress’ way. Nothing to worry about. I’m very much certain the only person he’ll be looking at will be his future bride-to-be, so I have absolutely nothing to be scared of. Not that I’m scared, because I’m not. I just don’t want to be humiliated. Not that I’m already humiliated, but at least no one knows about it. That'll be awful if anyone else finds out—"

Alya grabbed her face and turned to look at her. "Marinette, breathe. Calm down."

She took a few deep breaths and tried to relax. Alya was right. This was fine. She’d be fine. Everything would be just peachy.

"As long as he doesn’t touch your right hand, no one will know. I still insist I go instead of you. Nino will understand—" 

"No. I’ll go. I can do it."

"Yes, you can, and you’ll be fine, but if anything happens, you have my number. I’ll be there in five minutes. You got me?"

Marinette nodded, pulling Alya into a hug. She was an amazing friend, and Nino and she were going to be insanely happy together. One day perhaps, Marinette would meet someone too. Someone who, just like her, was betrayed by their soulmate. Or someone who had lost theirs. Someone who would be kind and gentle and, like her, would just want to be happy. 

Someone who was not Adrien Agreste. 

Next >

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[theheraldsrest]

“Inquisitor’s romanced companion (Cullen, Blackwall, or Iron Bull) finally seeing the Inquisitor come back from a long journey.” Well, someone likes big guys. Let’s give this a try. -Cabot

Blackwall

He had been carving the same spot on his piece for some time, but it didn’t seem to register. Once in a while, he glanced at the entrance of the stables, thinking he saw something but it was always just someone walking or birds flying. Each time, he’d shake his head, tell himself to calm down, and try to focus on what his hands were doing. It had been a week and a half since the Inquisitor left, accompanied by Varric, Bull, and Sera. Not the most reliable bunch but he knew they would never let the Inquisitor be harmed. He couldn’t help it. She had said they would be back soon, yet she wasn’t and had all together stopped sending messages to him. The last one he had received had contained only a few words: Thom, miss you dearly. Stormcoast is, as ever, cold and wet. On the plus side, plenty of spindleweed. As if we don’t have enough of it already. I love you. He couldn’t stop himself from re-reading this same letter, each time his focus catching on to her elegant writing over her words of endearment and his name. He was staring at it again, causing him to miss the wood he was working on had become weak, suddenly snapping. As he cursed himself, a chuckle reached his ears. “You know, if I hadn’t seen you carve the griffon saddle, I would’ve thought this was your first time working with carpentry tools.” His heart lifted as he turned to see that familiar smile and those shining eyes that he adored looking at him. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you didn’t know what soon meant.” She stepped closer to him, humming. “Two words. ‘Island’ and ‘dragon.’ I can’t control the bloody things appearing out of nowhere. Can you blame me?” It was his turn to chuckle as he pulled her into his arms. “No, I suppose not. Glad to have you back, love.” She pulled him into a kiss, Blackwall melting to her touch. The wait was definitely worth it.

Cullen

“Sir?” The commander snapped out of his thoughts, looking up from his desk to a scout standing by the door. “Yes, soldier?” He flinched at how dry his voice sounded and cleared it before saying “What is it?” “The latest reports from the spymaster, sir.” He stepped up and placed several papers onto Cullen’s desk. He picked each up, scanning them, looking for her name or even her title but nothing was found. He gave a frustrated sigh and looked them over to see if he missed something before noticing the scout was still there. “I don’t have anything new to report to her. You’re dismissed.” The scout gave a quick bow before going through the doors, leaving Cullen. Tenting his fingers together, he let his eyes unfocus as he thought. It had now been a couple of weeks since the Inquisitor left and not a single word had been sent back, not even from Leliana’s scouts. He knew he shouldn’t worry about her. She was strong, reliable, but he couldn’t help thinking the worst. Shaking his head so as to stop the idea of them being attacked by a dragon from creeping into his head, he stood up and left the room to walk along the ramparts. He stopped himself short before reaching the spot they usually spend time at and turned, instead, to look down on the grounds. He could see the troops training new recruits, the mages and healers working to restore those who were injured, something happened at the tavern as Sera jumped from the roof and ran, her cackling floating up to where he stood. Why the Inquisitor kept her around, he didn’t know. He couldn’t help his eyes falling to where he had usually spotted her when he walked about: under the trees where Cassandra sat, the spot next to the stairs where they had had there awkward chat, up to where he could see Vivienne leaning over the banister and back to the ground at the gates, where the horses were gathered, flicking their heads as their riders-wait what? He turned his gaze quickly back to the horses at the gate, their rider’s voices caring up to him. One of the riders jumped from their horse and was quickly moving to the stairs when she suddenly looked over. Even from this distance he could see that bright smile growing on her face as she waved and began making her way up the stairs. He made his way over as she finally turned on the final landing and spotted him, breaking into a run and throwing herself into his waiting arms, clinging tightly to him. He held her, the missing piece to his as he heard her muffled voice say “I missed you.” “And I, you.” 

Iron Bull

The sword he wielded clang against Krem’s as he threw him off. They had been at it for a while and Bull could see the sweat dripping down the younger man’s face but Krem focused, fixed his stance and charged again. In a few moments, Bull squatted next to Krem on the ground, panting and unwilling to move. “I think that has to be the most pitiful swing I’ve ever seen from you, Kremiscius.” Krem only smiled and shot back “Yeah, well, it’s going to be pitiful against a pitiful opponent.” He opened his eyes to look up at his chief’s frozen face. Bull could only grumble but held a hand out to pull Krem up. Once back on his feet, the smaller of the men looked up at him, a calculating look on his face. Bull turned away from him and waved over his shoulder. “That’s enough for today, Krem.” “Is this about the Inquisitor, chief?” Bull froze once more and turned to look at Krem, his brow creased in concern. To Krem’s relief, Bull smiled and said “Nah, the boss can handle themselves. It be foolish to worry about them. Besides, I’m giving you the chance to take a break. Better take it before I decide we need to go over your shield bashing again.” Krem quickly left, but the smile fell from his face as soon as Krem was out of sight. Krem knew him way too well. He rubbed the back of his neck, thinking. Sure, Frostback Basin was a good two week journey, and they had only been gone for seven weeks now, but it still made him worry. There hadn’t been any word back from them, all except their last letter, stating for Bull to be jealous because they went through a tournament-like trial. But that letter came around the time he assumed they reached the Basin. No other words or notes, not even a hint to what they were doing or what happened. Bull was trying to think of every scenario, knowing that kadan would be able to find a way out of each. Still, this wasn’t something he was used to, worrying about a lover. It was different now, he was committed to them, dedicated even. It hurt to wait, wait for any sign. He could see the same thing on other’s faces as they, too, waited. He decided to take out his frustration on the dummies nearby. It wasn’t until Bull had taken a few throws at the tied-up straw did he feel eyes watching him. He turned and felt all of his worries fall away. There, walking towards him, was his inquisitor, his kadan, with a smirk on their face. Bull turned fully towards them, crossing his arms across his chest and giving a dead serious look that made them pause. After a moment, they mimicked him and gave him a serious face as well. They stood in silence for a bit before Bull said “So.” His kadan raised their eyebrows in surprise. “So? That’s it? See me come back and say ‘so?’ “ “Yeah, pretty much.” Bull turned away, continuing his fighting with the dummy, fighting back the smile growing on his face as he listened. Nothing and then careful footsteps over and then a hand on his arm. “Did I miss something? Or did I do something before leaving that I’ve forgotten about?” Bull shrugged and continued. His kadan was quiet for a few moments before saying “Are you just screwing with me?” Again, he shrugged, refusing to look at them. He didn’t expect them to slip under his arm and get in front of the dummy. Now he could see the scratches and marks of battle on their face along with a worried expression. “Bull, what’s-” They jumped as he let out a surprised laugh, picking them up. They thumped his chest, yelling “Bull, you complete arse! I thought I did something wrong!” He pulled them closer, chuckling. “You did do something wrong. One being you didn’t make sure people knew you were alive and second being you didn’t bring me along to make sure you were alive. It was funny watching you squirm.” The inquisitor thumped his chest again, but they were smiling. “Next time I go to some Maker forsaken jungle with low hanging branches and trees, I’ll bring you along with me to fight the giant spiders and darkspawn. Sound like a plan?” Bull laughed, “No.”

There, enjoy. Have some burly men loving you. -Cabot

[sweetestlamb]

Still, I Rise

Summary: Damn teenagers and their angst. 

Author's Note: Back with another chapter, if you didn’t already know it I will be revealing our mystery character from the last chapter LOL please put down the bats and weapons (jk take them out it’s hilarious!) With this chapter we are getting closer to the “climax” and I am so excited to write the fun chapters I have planned ahead, one scene that I am really looking forward to writing is the camping trip, I had so much plans and events that I wanted to see that didn’t because TVN woke up and chose basic, we hate to see it. I can’t wait to rewrite history honestly also can’t wait to just move to onto regular schmegular teen problems, I swearrrrrrr. 

"Don't you dare embarrass me this time. You aren't ugly why can't you get these damn little rich brats to like you? Are you truly this useless? Don't come home if you can't make this one fall for you!"

Those had been his father's final words right before his hand split his lower lip open with a razor sharp blow that made his head whip in recoil. His father's footsteps faded as he walked away leaving him crumpled on the ground, anger and embarrassment raging in his blood. He hadn't chosen this life at all, never wanted to be a bargaining chip for that despicable man. First with Eun Dan Oh and now this new girl, Kang Sujin.

She'd initially stood him up and he had felt foolish sitting in the lavish restaurant by himself, checking his phone but no calls or messages arrived.

His father had been livid that night, more vicious than usual his stepmother's weak screams served as the soundtrack for his brutal beating. Why couldn’t she just be quiet? Did it make her feel better when she acted as if she actually gave a shit about him? His brother coming into his room after with those pathetic weeping eyes and a bandage had only made him angrier, he shoved him away slamming the door in his face, refusing his help. He didn't need anyone, nobody could save him from his horrible fate. 

It hadn't taken much research to find out her school and on impulse he'd gone there without her knowledge, watching from afar at first. A tiny girl with short hair framing her face had ran giggling into a taller girl with long dark hair and a classically beautiful face, they walked side by side smiling and laughing and that's when he'd heard her call out , "Sujin we should get something to eat!"

It wasn't love at first sight or anything ridiculous and disgustingly romantic like that, but he felt a connection to the girl for some inconceivable reason as if they were kindred spirits or something, maybe it was the remnant of a bruise he saw on her wrist hidden beneath her sweater. 

It seemed they had more in common then he had initially believed, it was a grim similarity. 

He'd gone home feeling less burdened than before, and his father's smile had been terrifying when he'd told him that he would work hard to win the girl over, only because he knew how quickly that smile could evaporate and his father could become the monster he was accustomed to. He tried not to flinch as the older man clapped him on the shoulder, his body already in fight or flight mode.

His father had merely smirked at his apparent fear.

Bastard.

So he'd taken to following the other girl around, she was going to be his fiancé anyway so he saw nothing wrong with it. And that was how he learned about the other boy, a tall slender boy who looked like someone that would grace an idol magazine cover. They were together more often than he liked, and it seemed more than platonic if the glances and subtle touches were a sign.

He wasn't jealous per se, but this would be a roadblock in his plan that he couldn't afford. He was getting used to not being beaten. 

The day he'd followed them to the hospital presented another challenge for him, he hated hospitals and what they represented with every fiber of his being. He'd spent too much time in them growing up and then again for a girl who couldn't care less about him, she was another reminder that he wasn't worthy of love. He had thought he loved her but still hurt her whenever she disobeyed him, he knew he was no better than his father.

Unexpectedly Sujin had burst through the hospital doors, surprising him and forcing him to hide lest she spot him, peeking out from his hiding place behind a tree he saw her distraught and near tears running the opposite direction. He stood in shock merely watching and waiting to see if the unknown boy would follow her, but thankfully he never came.

Pushing down his own wariness and discomfort he walked into the hospital immediately feeling a cold chill on his skin, he refused to call it trauma that made it sound like something was wrong with him. He was fine and he could do this.

Thankfully the nurses were too busy and nobody noticed him walking by and he froze when he spotted another man who was capable of making him flinch. Doctor Kang, he looked anything but approachable in his gleaming white lab coat and he remembered watching the man laugh with his father as they both sold their children without remorse. Instinctively he hid watching the man glare into a hospital room, he almost feared for whomever was the recipient of the ice cold gaze.

Minutes melted by before the doctor finally walked away, his steps clipped and echoing on the linoleum floors and he finally let out a sigh of relief when the other man disappeared around the corner.

Stealthily he rounded the corner and took the doctor's abandoned spot, peeking into the room through the small window in the door. It was that boy again, the idol wannabe but this time he wasn't alone there was a young girl with a bouquet in her arms and a older woman lovingly patting him on his cheeks.

His mother.

A loving one, at that. 

His blood seared watching the domestic scene, jealousy ripping through him like a tornado. There was no way he was letting this asshole have Sujin too, he already had too much. More than he, Baekyung would ever have.

                                                                The motorcycle roars under her thighs as they whip down the road. It only serves to remind her of the first time she was on a bike with another boy, his cologne and the scent of leather infiltrating her senses and making her heart jump through hoops. This time she feels nothing but annoyance and extreme frustration, barely holding onto the stranger in front of her as she leans forward to yell above the engine, "Pullover!"

She knows he heard her based on the immediate tension in his body but he continues to ride ignoring her request demand. With a grunt she grabs onto his waist only to bodily drag them to the side not caring if they both crash at this point she cannot stand another second on this bike with him, instantly he straightens them before skidding to the side and finally pulling the brakes bringing the motorcycle to a halt, the moment the bike stops she hops off in a frenzy.

Thrusting the bottom piece of his helmet up he screams at her, "Are you insane? You could have hurt us!"

She bares her teeth at him, ready to unleash her full anger on him now without an audience. 

"Who the fuck are you? And why did you come to my school?" She bellows glaring poisonously at the strange idiot who had single handedly upended her day.

Moving calmer than she's feeling, he dismounts finally pulling his helmet off and then squeezing it under his arm looking down at her. 

With a condescending look he stares at her, "You know exactly who I am, don't play dumb it's beneath you."

He's right. She does know who he is although she had never seen him or known his name, she had truly thought she could ignore him and he would disappear. Just like with her father that was proving to be an erroneous dream that would never come true. 

"But I'll formally introduce myself since we are going to be engaged soon after all, Baekyung. You can call me oppa though."

Engaged soon.

Her head spins from his words, she feels terror shift over her like a thick suffocating blanket.

"You don't even know me. Why would you even agree to this?" She stares at him in disbelief, at a loss to his acquiesce to their tragic fate.

The look in his eyes haunt her, it's like staring in a mirror and gazing back at the person she was months ago. Somehow without her knowledge or consent she'd changed, grown even and therefore started believing that her life was just that, hers.

"You act like we have a choice. Don't be stupid, we have to just do as we're told. It's easier this way for everyone." He repeats those words that she herself had uttered to Seojun not so long ago, a sense of deja vu washes over her. 

"How is letting ourselves be used easier? Don't you have your own dreams or aspirations? Isn't there someone you actually like?" She knows the error of her argument immediately as she says it, his eyes narrow into thin enraged slits and she can practically feel the anger vibrating off him.

"Don't pretend to care about me. This is about you and your little boyfriend," he spits the word like acid and immediately she remembers those chilling words he had whispered in her eyes earlier, "Do you think he'll be safe?" That was all it had taken for her to go with him, he couldn't get hurt she wouldn't allow that to happen ever. She had no idea what those ominous words meant and how this boy could pose a threat to Seojun but she knew she had to hear him out and protect Seojun anyway she possibly could. 

"He's not the only one you should be worried about." The smug bastard continues with a humorless grin on his face and suddenly the dots connect, her father outside of Ms. Han's hospital room and that calculating look on his face. Her stomach drops.

"Leave them out of it!" She screams embarrassed at the urgent plea in her voice but she can't help it, she's so scared more than she's ever been for herself.

"Well that all depends on you doesn't it? Your dear father will have no reason to do anything to them if you listen like a good daughter and date me as expected."

She stands frozen once again feeling helpless, it kills her inside all her growth slipping down the drain in a matter of seconds.

"Why are you doing this?"

He stills at her question, his cold mask dropping and leaving something numb and unreadable in its place. It feels familiar to her, she awaits his answer with bated breath.

"I want to live, even if I have no control over it. I'd rather be alive."

Thunder clashes above them, the previously sunny day shifting into a gray dark distortion, heavy storm clouds ominously loom above them and the first raindrops land perfectly on her cheeks, crying the tears that she refuses to let fall. She has no more left to cry.

Confusion is an understatement to express Su-ah's true feelings following the mysterious boy on the motorcycle, when she finally gets Sujin on the phone the other girl is quiet and mumbling, evading all her questions and as soon as she mentions Seojun, Sujin shuts down hastily ending their conversation with some nonsensical excuse. 

That was not going to be the end, Sujin might want to play dumb about the true nature of their relationship but she wasn't part of the circus. She was no clown, she had eyes and it was clear that they liked each other and it was only growing the more time they spent together. She wouldn't let her best friend sabotage something that could be great for her, she deserved happiness and Seojun made her happy. So it was truly that simple. 

Stomping up the slight incline to school, she huffs and puffs determined. She was going to talk some sense into the other girl.

Those thoughts come crashing all around her when she sees Sujin coming out of a car, a car that she has never seen before and her questions are answered when the boy from yesterday steps out after her. Every eye in a ten mile radius is watching them, captivated by this new school scandal. Girls already squealing and giggling, envious of Sujin and doing very little to hide their true feelings. 

“Why is he with her? She isn’t even that pretty. He should be with me.” 

The lies people told themselves to sleep at nights, sad. 

Accidentally knocking the gossiping girl to the side with a rough shoulder check, ignoring her dramatic cry she sprints the rest of the way, once again pushing through the crowd to get to Sujin.

Immediately their eyes lock and she begs Sujin for a answers, What happened? Why are you doing this? What’s going?,  she flinches at the cold emotionless stare she gets in response. She watches in dismay as the tall boy bends down as if to hug Sujin and that's when a loud grumble fills the air, she turns around to the all too familiar sight of Seojun on his motorcycle. He revs the handle bar causing the crowd to part like the Red Sea, then he rides slowly until he's right next to Sujin bike inches away from touching her.

With a practiced motion he tugs off his helmet, those sloping feline eyes already on Sujin in a hard stare.

The tension is insurmountable and cloying and Su-ah watches transfixed before Sujin breaks the impasse, tugging her bookbag over her shoulder she stomps into the school without a word to either boys. But then the interloping boy calls out, “Have a good day. Princess,” and Sujin stops immediately at the word, turning around with a ferocious look in her eyes, “Don’t call me that. My name is Kang Sujin to you. That’s all.” Su-ah sees the way that Sujin’s eyes almost subconsciously seek out a certain cat eyed boy and feels like she misses an entire conversation between the two before Sujin finally walks away. 

The mysterious boy glares at her retreating back before shooting a cold glare at Seojun and then promptly hopping back into his car, the backseat as he's chauffeured away.

"Oh my god! That was so hot! Princess?” 

"Who is that? Does Kang Sujin have a boyfriend? Wow, she’s mean to her boyfriend too. What a bitch.” 

Why do you think Seojun looked so angry?"

"Maybe he's worried about losing his bad boy title!"

The crowd erupts around them in loud voices, all curious about what they've witnessed and already creating rumors to appease their curiosity. Suddenly a loud motorcycle screech causes them all to jump silence falling over the crowd before Seojun rides away, the tight clench in his jaw visible even from her distance.

Lunch is a step above awkward, bordering into painful. The easy conversation that used to be a staple of the table is all but decimated, instead everyone eats quietly chilled by the cold air permeating from both Seojun and Sujin. They only speak when spoken to and avoid all eye contact, especially each others. It's painful to be a witness to and she notes regretfully that neither are eating home made lunch today, opting for the school lunch instead.

Sujin had never officially told her but she knew that they were making food for each other, their smiles watching the other eat made it too obvious.

This was serious. Looking at them now they looked like complete strangers, everyone was too nervous to question the elephant in the room. Everyone except poor Chorong.

"Why is everyone was so awkward today? What did you two fight or something? Why do we all have to suffer because of your lover's quarrel? Just kiss and make up already."

The table all looked on with opened mouths except Suho and herself who both looked worried instead.

And people thought she was slow, how had they all not realized what was happening? It was clear as day.

She flinches at his well-meaning words that are evidently not well received by either teen, watching them both glare at the table unmoving and the silence drags out painfully before Seojun breaks the stalemate. Standing without preamble he glares at Chorong before placing the stare on Sujin, it does nothing to change her unaffected stare. With a loud sigh he stomps away, despite his friends dismayed shouts of his name.

She continues to eat her lunch, watching Sujin in her peripheral.

She looks like she has the weight of the world on her shoulder and Su-ah for the first time in their friendship has no idea what to do.

But when they all start to funnel out of the cafeteria she follows the other girl anyway, tugging her into an enclave where they are hidden from the rest of their classmates Sujin cries out at the sudden jerk but loses her defensive stance when she realizes it’s just her. 

“What?”

“What’s going on? Why are you letting that punk bring you to school and why are you and Han Seojun acting like you broke up before you even started officially dating? Sujin-ah, please tell me what’s going on.” She pleads latching onto the other girl’s arm peering up at her with puppy dog eyes, they have never failed her before. 

“I can’t tell you yet, I’m sorry.”

There’s a first time for everything and she frowns at Sujin feeling like there is a mountain between them. She can’t help the hurt that she feels knowing the other girl doesn’t trust her enough to tell her what’s going on. She thought they had moved past all the secrets and hiding but obviously she was wrong. 

“I really am sorry. But I will tell you everything soon enough.”

She releases Sujin’s arm, ready to walk away. She hates being in the dark. But before she can walk away, she feels Sujin hand on the bottom of her sweater tugging her backwards, she looks back with a perplexed glare. 

“Do you trust me?” 

She stares at Sujin and the soft tilt of her head as she asks the question, and her answer is easy, although she has no idea what’s going on and none of this makes any sense to her she doesn’t have to think about that answer. 

"You shouldn't do this to him. It's too cruel." Suho expects a biting retort or even a call for him to mind this damn business, so he's shocked breathless when instead the other girl smiles at him, a tiny almost indecipherable thing that makes her lips thinner. 

"You two have come a long way." Sujin responds unexpectedly shaking her head and walking over to the couch, before beckoning him over too.

He stares feeling suspicious but ultimately he follows, curiosity winning.

"I think I'm ready." Sujin expels a deep breath, twisting her hands nervously in her lap. Before he can ask her what exactly she's ready for she continues, "I want to tell your father what happened if you really think he'll help me."

He's too late to swallow the strangled gasp that escapes from his lungs and he leans back in surprise. He wants to continue his conversation about Seojun but he’s scared to do anything to make the other girl retreat or change her mind now. That conversation will have to wait for another day.  

Sorry Seojun. 

"Are you sure? You're really ready to do this?"

There's a long pause and he watches a myriad of emotions run across Sujin's usually expressionless face until something that looks suspiciously like hope blossoms making her glow brighter than the sun.

"Yes. I want to try living just for me."

Blinking away the moisture in his eyes, he pulls out his cellphone sending his father a message.

Please come over.

It only takes seconds but it feels like an eternity before his father replies, he smiles at the message.

On my way.

He stands up to put the kettle on the fire, he knows that tonight will be a long night and he needs something to keep his hands occupied.

When his doorbell rings he's shocked when Sujin stands up looking at him with a serene gaze, "I'll get it." He only nods at her in reply, watching as she greets his father and man recovers quickly at the unexpected visitor, smiling warmly at Sujin before pulling her into a warm embrace.

Even more surprisingly Sujin doesn't flinch, allowing herself to be wrapped up.

His father embraces him as well, patting him on the back and again on the head when they break apart. He can feel Sujin's eyes on them and he moves away guiltily. Now isn’t the time to rub his burgeoning relationship with his father in her face. 

"Have a seat Dad, thank you for coming so quickly."

His father lifts an eyebrow at the sudden serious tone of his voice but he follows his directions nonetheless folding his hands on his lap and looking inquisitively between the two teenagers.

"Is there something you both want to tell me? Perhaps you two are....." His father motions vaguely between them and he stares back not comprehending until his father smiles slyly and Sujin beats him to it, protesting ardently.

"No! No, it's nothing like that. There's someone else...I mean no. That's what what we wanted to talk about."

He raises an eyebrow at Sujin's slip and his father chuckles at her stuttering and the red blaze across her cheeks.

His father waves his arms in appeal, apologetic grin on his face. "Sorry I didn't mean to embarrass you both. I just always hoped you two might one day. A father can dream."

He scoffs at his father, "Give up on that dream she's like family to me. We would never see each other that day."

Sujin nods passionately in agreement and his father shrugs easily, now looking even more curious than before.

"So what did you want to talk about?"

Sujin stills on her spot on the couch, the determination in her bones seeming to melt away with every passing minute. He fears this won't go as planned and he has no idea how to motivate her.

Then a loud vibration rumbles from the couch and it takes Sujin a moment to realize it's her phone, he watches curiously as she looks at the message and then a single tear runs down her round cheek. The determination curls back around her like armor, he watches in amazement as she sits taller turning to look at his father with newfound courage or maybe it wasn’t newfound but suddenly uncovered by whatever she had seen on her phone. 

“Suho asked you for help for me. I’m really the one who needs your help.” He can hear the slight quiver and hitches in her words but she gets them all out and instantly she has his father’s undivided attention, he even turns his body to fully face the girl. Pride swells in his chest at the sight, he was worried his father would only be adamant about helping him directly as a way to get closer to him but now he can see that he was wrong about the other man. Genuine concern fills every line and wrinkle of time on his face. 

“What is wrong? What do you need help with and why can’t you tell your parents?” It’s a innocent question, and logical too but he fears Sujin’s reaction, when she feels like she is backed into a corner in the past that has led to her lashing out with dagger sharp remarks, he watches with his heart lodged in his throat.

“Because they are the ones hurting me.” 

His lungs deflate releasing all the air that was trapped in the sacs, she said the truth without hesitation and he turns to glance at his father watching him process the bomb that she has just dropped on him. His father opens and closes his mouth several times, before finding his voice it is but a whisper when he responds to Sujin. 

“That time you needed a doctor.” The statement is directed to Suho and with a sober nod he confirms what his father already knows, with a loud sigh his father sinks into the couch quiet rage on his face. “I should have known, you always seemed so scared of him but I thought it was just his parenting style I never thought...never expected that he would....I should have done something!” 

Sujin laughs, it is pained and small but he hears it and immediately turns to look at her, “He sounds just like you like father like son I guess,” Sujin directs that at him and he blushes in memory, he can’t deny the claims. Then she turns back to his father with surprisingly soft eyes, “Don’t blame yourself, just help me now if you can.” 

“I will use all of my resources to make sure he spends his life in jail.” 

Suho jumps in his seat looking over at Sujin, that is way more than they had ever discussed that was what he truly wanted for the monstrous man but it always seemed like too much to ask for but here was his father saying it as if it was completely plausible. 

“Jail? Do you really think he can go to jail? It would be his word against mine, I never took any pictures. I was stupid.” Sujin berates herself, and before he can dismiss the self inflicted insult his father is already moving closer and putting a large hand on her trembling shoulder, only then does he realize how the girl is shaking like a new leaf. 

“No, it will be my word against his. I will also get that report from Doctor Kim, that could be used as evidence. You’re just a kid and a victim, I’ll handle this you don’t need to do anything else. You’ve handled enough on your own, we got you now.” His father looks over at him as if waiting for his approval and he moves onto the couch with them both, after a moment’s pause putting his hand on Sujin’s other shoulder. 

“We got you.” 

Jukyeong glances over nervously at Seojun the aroma of coffee thick in the air as she sweeps up the beans she had clumsily spilled on the ground, she waited for Seojun to playfully scold her as he often did when she messed up at work but the reprimand never came and when she glanced over at him he had been staring longing at his cellphone. 

Su-ah had been the first to notice how weird him and Sujin acted around each other and despite not having a lot of experience with relationships, especially those of the romantic kind she could see that they didn’t hate each other as much as Sujin tried to drive the deceptive point home. They were always teasing each other and Seojun found any excuse to be near Sujin and soon he wasn’t the only one, they just seemed to naturally gravitate to each other at times bickering so much it was like they were the only two people in the room. 

But all that had come to an abrupt end with the sudden appearance of the boy on the motorcycle, the entire school was in a uproar over him, Baek Kyung, she had heard the other girls whispering his name. On paper he seemed very similar to Han Seojun, same bad boy persona and affinity for motorcycles and glares. But the biggest difference she noticed was Sujin's reaction to them both, she had heard from some gossiping girls how vehemently Sujin had declared that Baek Kyung not call her “princess”, a moniker she had commonly heard Seojun use to refer to the girl.  Sujin never stopped him these days, instead rolling her eyes and speeding up to escape from him, he would chase after all calling her the sweet nickname all the way. 

When Seojun would use it to refer to her in passing such as, “Are you gonna eat that princess?” Those were times that Sujin didn’t react at all, simply handing him whatever food in her container had caught his eye that she had ignored. 

They were casually domestic in a way that they never seemed to realize and she couldn’t help but categorize. Seojun liked Sujin that was becoming clearer and it seemed like the feeling was mutual, even if the girl wasn’t yet ready to admit it. 

Which was why this new development came as a complete shock to her, why was Sujin suddenly giving her attention to someone else? 

“Did you guys have a fight? Just tell her you’re sorry.” She offers out of the blue, and Seojun turns to her with a puzzled look drying a mug with a cloth, “What are you talking about now clumsy?” 

Thankfully the shop is empty, she quirks at eyebrow at him folding her arm when he continues to play dumb. 

“Sujin. You guys clearly had a fight, you’re both so hot tempered. Her temper is probably worst than yours though so just apologize okay? It’s better than fighting.” 

He stares at her with a blank face before turning away, rubbing firmer at the mug in his hands and she worries for its safety. 

“Why should I apologize when she’s the one who’s with another guy? Don’t worry about me, I will be fine. Clearly this was one-sided. She doesn’t like me.” 

She openly laughs at him now, looking at him like he has two heads. “What are you talking about? If she didn’t like you then why did she follow you to your mom’s hospital? She tried to be all sneaky but Chorong told us everything. Plus she always gets jealous when other girls give you food at school and don’t think we don’t all know that you guys make food for each other!” 

He whips around looking at her with huge eyes, “Wait you all knew? So when I said that someone special made it for me? You knew?” 

She smiles brightly, “Yep. It wasn’t subtle at all.” 

He sighs in annoyance, turning away to hide the pink on his face. 

“I’m not apologizing. I didn’t do anything wrong.” 

She sighs at the boy’s words, knowing that this fight might go on longer than it needs to and she wishes she could just shake some sense into both of them, why were they choosing to suffer like this? 

Damn teenagers and their angst. 

Grumbling she goes to take a customer’s order, glancing over at Seojun with a final sad smile. 

Hopefully they can figure this out without falling apart. 

Time seems to move slower than usual today and he almost pumps a fist in  triumph when he sees that it’s finally eight and they are free to leave. 

“Do you want to me to walk you to the bus stop?” He offers Jukyeong out of politeness but she shakes her head no, telling him that she is going to meet with her older sister for dinner running out before him and hailing a cab, he smiles at the sight that’s one girl who loves to eat. 

Turning off the lights in the shop, he turns over the “open” sign and locks the door behind him. The cool spring night air brushes against his cheeks and he makes his way to his motorcycle, mounting in one motion and sighing as it purrs to life before he speeds off his destination already in mind. He bobs and weaves through traffic, smirking at idiot drivers who blare their horns at him when he inches too close to their precious car but even they are not enough to rain on his parade. 

When he finally arrives, he bounces off the bike throwing the helmet onto the handlebar carelessly before bounding over to the figure he sees waiting. 

He can’t help the smile that tugs against his lips, ultimately setting it free as the figure turns around at the sound of his boot stomping on the ground. 

“Did you wait long?” He asks moving closer until he can feel the heat wafting off the body in front of him. 

“No, I only just got here too. Why are you smiling like that? You look deranged.” 

He smiles wider, feeling mischievous after what a certain klutz had revealed to him with a smirk he leans closer to her, grinning harder when she leans back looking at him with a confused glare. 

“I heard from a certain birdie that you followed me to the hospital and that you get jealous when other girls give me food. Is that true princess?” 

Sujin growls at him, shoving his shoulder hard before stomping away to the park bench. He eagerly follows after her, throwing his arm over her shoulder smiling at her wearing yet another one of his sweaters, this time a black one that reaches the bottom of her knees and completely hides whatever she is wearing underneath. She looks equally sexy as adorable and it makes his blood boil in a way he has been trying harder and harder to suppress around her. 

“I knew you would try to milk the situation. This isn’t why I told you everything.” 

He smiles recalling what Sujin is referring to. 

Just a day go.....

He stares angrily at his phone in utter disbelief that she would have the gall to call him after what had just happened. She had left on another boy’s motorcycle even though he had asked her not to, he didn’t know what was going on but seeing her leave like that, he wished he knew how to turn off all his feelings for her. No other human should have this kind of power or control over him but here he was ready to burst because she had picked someone else over him. 

“What do you want?” He barks out answering the call with a hard press of his finger and immediately he starts to lose some of his fire when he hears her soft staggered breaths on the other line. 

“Seojun, can you meet me somewhere?” 

He wants to say no, to bitterly hang up on her and tell her that he has someone new too but that would be a lie and he desperately wants to see her and hold her and find out why she decided to rip his heart out and stomp on it.  

Feeling pathethic he answers her with a sigh, “Where are you?”  

Songnisan park. It’s not too far from their school and he hangs up without answering hopping on his bike and riding to her. Maybe it’s stupid but he can’t turn his back on her just yet, he still wants to hear her out even if she’s going to break his heart. 

By the time he reaches the park it’s raining, pouring down in sheets despite the warm weather and he immediately sees Sujin sitting under the downpour while other park goers are running and using picnic blankets as makeshift umbrellas. 

The scenes feels all too familiar and he wonders if this will be their end? Would life be that poetic to have them end the same way they became? 

Sighing he tugs his sweater off, walking quickly to close the gap between them before sitting beside her and thrusting his sweater above both their heads, protecting them from the rain. 

She turns to him with a gasp and he realizes how closely they are sitting beside each other, he can feel her breath when she exhales and it washes over in an intoxicating breeze. He has to forcibly put some distance between them before he does something that he knows he shouldn’t, especially not now. 

“My father knows about us. He saw me at the hospital and I’m scared he saw your mother and sister too. I don’t think I should visit anymore.” 

He pauses to process her words and he feels his chest tighten with anger at the mention of that sub-human, if he ever tried to harm a hair on his family’s head that would be the last thing he ever did. But once the rage passes by he thinks of the rest of Sujin’s sentence, my father knows about us. 

They were an us. 

There was an us for people to know about? 

“Us?” He replies stupidly, unable to stop his heart from fluttering. 

With a sound of exasperation she looks over at him, “How is that the most important thing that I said?” The pretty blush on her face does not go unnoticed but he responds to her statement staying focused, “My mom was discharged today. They said it was just a scare and nothing serious. He can’t do anything to us, if he tries I’ll kill him.” 

He means it, every single word falling from his lips. 

He’s not prepared for Sujin to sob and drop her head onto his shoulder, he drops their sweater umbrella at the sudden pleasant weight feeling the rain drench his hair and shirt instantly. 

“I’m so happy to hear that. I was so worried about all of you.” 

A bubble of happiness explodes in his chest and he’s so close to just letting go of all his anger and holding her, seeing her so worried about his family is almost enough to undo him. 

But, he can’t forget the image of her riding off with someone else. His heart will never forget that ache, that indescribable pain.

“So you care about me now? Is that why you left me like that today? Because you care so much?”

He is being petty, he knows that but he can’t stop the jealousy that is fueling him right now. His green eyed monster is raring its ugly head. 

“That’s the guy you told me to stand up, remember? That’s the guy my father is trying to sell me to. He’s been following us and he knew about you, he threatened you. I did what I had to, I have to do this until I speak to Suho’s father. I think.....No. I’m ready now. I’m going to tell him everything and ask for his help.” 

His heart is pounding erratically in his chest, he can barely hear the rain over the loud thumping of the organ and he can’t believe he ever doubted her, feels guilt twist around him but he pushes that aside to take in everything she has confessed to him, without saying the words she has all but confirmed everything Jukyeong carelessly exposed to him in the coffee shop, she cares about him too enough to want to protect him at any cost. But most importantly she was starting to care about herself, she no longer saw her life as expendable and was willing to ask for help even at the expense of revealing her darkest secret and getting her hopes up. 

Fuck she was the bravest person he knew. 

Without thinking he tugs her into his arms, wrapping her in a tight hug before he realizes what he’s doing but by the time he starts to move back she’s already hugging him back, her arms tight around his shoulder and her head in the dip of his neck and it’s too perfect to stop now. Absently he strokes her wet silky smooth hair and when they finally draw apart, the barest amount of space between them he takes another risk, glancing at her eyes pleading and then smiling when she nods, giving him permission even without knowing what he plans to do, simply trusting him, he leans forward and plants a soft butterfly kiss on her forehead, she hisses in response but instead of moving away she latches on to him tighter. 

“I’m so proud of you baby.” He kisses her again, firmer this time putting all the love and pride he feels for her in that gentle kiss to her brow. 

He expects a lot of things in response to his bold move and the new nickname, a punch, a kick, her loud denial and rejection, he is emotionally prepared for any and all of those reactions, but instead she steals his breath away when she smiles up at him, looking into his eyes and he realizes that she’s looking for permission too and he nods, nervous and anxious to see what she will do. 

With a moment’s hesitation she tugs him down and he goes easily, his heart in his chest and he closes his eyes as her face draws closer to him, his heart is pattering now a crazy thundering mess filled to the brim with anticipation. 

He feels her plush lips against his cheek, the rain making the skin slick and he hums in encouragement as the kiss lingers before he opens his eyes and immediately they are lost in each other’s eyes and he can feel their faces moving closer as if opposite ends of a magnet and he waits for her to stop them, to push him away and run off but she is just as lost as him, moving closer too and when only centimeters separate their lips, a loud crash of thunder booms high above their heads making them jump apart, both flying to opposite ends of the bench. 

“We should...um get out of this rain before we catch a cold.” 

The ride home is awkward and he can barely breathe with how tightly she’s holding his waist but he smiles through the rain, taking care to move carefully on the wet streets not wanting to hurt Sujin and then they are in front of Suho’s apartment, much too fast to his disappointment. 

They both sit unmoving for a few seconds before Sujin releases his waist from her death grip and gets off the bike. 

“Let’s talk over there for a minute.” He states dismounting too and walking over to the scaffold so they can escape the torrential rain for a moment at least. 

They stand awkwardly shivering from the cold in their wet clothes, it’s obvious that Sujin is embarrassed about what happened- their kisses-but he can barely contain his joy, if he were alone right now he would be doing backflips. 

This day as made a complete 180 turn for the better. 

“I have to pretend to date him. We already agreed to come to school tomorrow. He agreed to stop following me if I let him take me to school and go on dates. He has to put on a show for his father too.” She says talking so fast that the words slur together and he wonders absently if she’s nervous? And if so, why? Was she nervous about his reaction? 

He nods in understanding, “Okay. I forgot to say it earlier, but thank you for telling me and not leaving me in the dark. I appreciate it.” 

That’s the logical part of his response, he knows what it took for Sujin to involve him in her plan and how huge it is that she hadn’t wanted him to misunderstand her feelings and motives. But she’s still the girl that he likes and he can’t help the illogical things that flood his mind too. 

“Not on his motorcycle though.”

She looks at him with a deep searching stare and he simply stares back, nonplussed. He knows what he sounds like, a bargaining jealous boyfriend. That’s exactly what he wants to be so he sees no reason to attempt to explain himself, whatever she’s thinking is true and he isn’t the least bit ashamed to admit it. At his unabashed stare she crumples looking away with a barely hidden smile, “Okay. Not on his bike. Even though I never told you that you were allowed to have conditions, this isn’t a negotiation.” She complains but the sting is gone because she has already agreed to his request, he flashes a smile at her. 

“Okay, I’ll see you tomorrow. I will have to act jealous, that shouldn’t be too hard.” He winks at her and this time she does try to punch him, he barely dodges her fist. 

Such a violent little thing. 

“I never said you had to do anything.”

He shrugs, “It makes sense. I like you so it would only make sense that I would be jealous if I thought you were dating someone else, plus he will probably want to see that too.” 

She’s as red as a strawberry as she sprints away from him without another word, waving at him over her shoulder. 

He smiles all the way home, before falling into bed after a much needed warm shower, his toes and fingers were like ice chips when he finally got home. 

Remembering one more thing, he grabs his phone shooting a quick text message. 

Don’t let him call you nicknames. Only Sujin. 

Reading it back he determines that the message is a bit too...commanding and if he wants to keep a certain boot out of his ass he better fix it so he swiftly adds:

Please. 

Present time....

“I didn't do anything. She just suddenly started telling me how much you adore me and how you can’t live without me and that I should just forgive you and take you back.” He sniffles dramatically watching amused as Sujin rolls her eyes, before angrily pulling out her phone, he laughs suddenly worried for Jukyeong so he snatches the object from her hands, much to her chagrin. 

“I might have exaggerated about what she said, a teeny tiny bit.” He demonstrates the small amount with his fingers and she glares at him biting out, “Liar,” before snatching back her phone and stuffing it in her pockets with a grumble. 

Getting serious he turns to look at her with anticipation, “How did it go? Were you able to tell him everything?” She is staring out at the horizon, despite him boring a hole in the side of her head begging for eye contact. 

“I hesitated. I lost my confidence.”

He can hear the defeat in her voice and without a pause he opens his mouth to comfort her and tell her how strong she is and explain why this is just a minor setback but next time they can go together and if she needs him to he will hold her hand the entire time and give her every last drop of his support and--

“But then I got a message and it gave me courage. So I told him everything and he agreed to help me. He wants to send my dad to jail, not just emancipate me.” 

She did it. 

She really did it. 

He smiles at her wider than the ocean. 

“You did it, Sujin.”

She stares at him in palpable shock, he immediately knows why it’s not often he uses her name and he expects her to be happy that he isn’t calling her the nickname she is always dismissing, she’s always so adamant that she is not a princess much less his princess.  

“Don’t call me that.” She says finally turning to meet his eyes and he stares back confused because he had only said her name, why was that a problem? Wasn’t that what she had been trying to get him to call her since the first time he dubbed her princess? 

“What do you want me to call you then?” 

He is truly asking but the look she gives him makes him feel like the dunce in the corner of the room and realization unfurls in his body like a slow moving tsunami and he smiles unbridled at the epiphany. 

He hasn’t wanted to get his hopes up by making assumptions about what this is but maybe it’s time that he have some confidence now, he was someone important to her. She had already proved that in so many ways these past days. 

Taking her hand in his, he smiles brightly at her. 

It’s the first time that he has held her hand, and he can feel the damaged skin in his own smoother hand. His heart aches for only a moment, her hands are just like her they might look bruised and pitiful at first glance but beneath the broken surface lurked unimaginable strength and power and just like the rest of her, they were imperfectly perfect. He never wanted to hold another hand, this was the only one he needed. 

“Good job, you did it Princess.” 

She smiles up at him, looking gorgeous-heart stoppingly so-and he can’t help the way his chest constricts as if he didn’t know it already he knows it now unequivocally . 

He, Han Seojun belongs to Kang Sujin. 

[kar-krashew]

you that i lie with [AO3]

Magnus is a private investigator, and Alec is a master thief. Obviously, they fall in love.

Rated T

Shoutout to @peachygos, @rainyhuman, and @arsenic-creator <3

Magnus sighs as he flicks through the file in his hand for what’s possibly the tenth time today, skimming over each page once again in a desperate attempt to find new information, new leads, new anything— as long as it’s something that will help the case. If Ragnor was here, he’d probably say something about the definition of insanity and doing the same thing over and over again yet expecting different results, and then Magnus would say something about shutting up, Ragnor, and the other would then laugh and hand the file over to him anyway. Besides, Magnus didn’t become a private investigator just to ignore his gut feeling, and he definitely didn’t become one to listen to other people. So he’s here now, hunched over his desk, sorting through pages that he can practically recite by heart.

By the eleventh pass, he’s starting to think Ragnor would’ve been right. Dammit, Magnus is never going to hear the end of this.

“Goddamned Morgensterns,” he swears under his breath. If only he’d turned Jocelyn down all those years ago, when she’d shown up at his doorstep with her little girl and begged for help. If only he’d told her no, then he wouldn’t be caught up between their murderous family feud, watching as the people around him die because he wasn’t able to connect the dots or find a clue fast enough.

God, who is he kidding? He never would’ve said no.

Magnus Bane saves people; it’s one of the worst things about him.

Fuck, he thinks, fuck. Curse his fucking hero complex, curse his fucking job, curse the day he tried helping Clarissa Fairchild. He’s always known it would come back to bite him in the ass.

Magnus exhales, and closes his eyes. Just one more time; he’s sure he’ll find something. He’ll look through the file one more time, and then call it a day. Whatever he finds, he’ll roll with it. Just one more time, he repeats to himself, which is exactly when his fingers stumble upon a slip of paper stuck in between the creases of an old newspaper clipping.

Hotel Dumont, the note reads, L.

“Oh,” Magnus says. His heart flutters as his eyes pass over the three words, once, twice, thrice, committing the messy scrawl to memory until it’s been imprinted behind his eyelids.

Hotel Dumont.

L.

He knew there was something of use in that file. He’s never going to let Ragnor hear the end of this.

--

The newspaper clipping that Magnus had found the note in was one detailing the illustrious career of Alexander Gideon Lightwood: former heir to the Lightwood fortune, now known amongst the upper class as the city’s most notorious thief. While there are quite a few fantastical urban legends about him, the most popular is that most of his “earnings” go to those in need, while another common one claims that he’s got a particular soft spot for detectives in gold eyeliner. Whatever you believe, it’s obvious he’s a terrible choice for a friend, partner, or anything really; he’s dangerous, reckless, untrustworthy, and Magnus is pretty sure he’s halfway in love with the guy.

“The man is a criminal, Magnus,” Raphael says at the front desk, frowning even as he hands over a room key. He leans over the desk and grabs Magnus’s hand. “Look, just don’t do anything stupid.”

Magnus accepts the key with a flourish and flashes a smile. “When have I ever, darling?” he winks, then abruptly turns around and walks down the line of doors before Raphael can respond.

They both know the answer to that question; especially when it comes to Alec.

He takes a deep breath as he approaches the room. It’s fine. He’ll be fine. He just has to hear out whatever Alexander has to say, speak his own piece, and then they’ll split ways, never to cross paths again. It’s a simple plan, and all he has to do to get it over with is open the door.

All he has to do is open—

“Planning to just stare at that key all day, Detective Bane, or are you going to come in anytime soon?” a voice says, and Magnus jolts backwards in surprise before looking up, because he’d know that voice anywhere, and oh, it’s Alexander, standing in front of him with his pale skin and warm eyes and smiling, and Magnus missed him so much, he wants to kiss his face senseless, he’s gorgeous and he’s lovely and he’s—

He’s—

Alec is. . . well, he’s, uh—

“Are you naked?”

Alexander rolls his eyes and opens the door to reveal that he isn’t, in fact, naked; but that isn’t to say that he’s not very close to it, with nothing covering his body other than a towel draped loosely around his hips, riding far too low for it to be doing anything in terms of modesty. In fact, it’s doing the opposite, really, and Magnus is finding it increasingly difficult to look at something that isn’t Alec’s chest.

Oh, god.

“Ah,” Magnus says after a long moment. Alec smiles knowingly and leans against the doorframe, which is not helping, Jesus Christ. “Well! You seem otherwise preoccupied. I’ll just, ahem, I can always come back at a more opportune time.”

He’s just about to pivot on his heel and vow to never return here again when a hand shoots out and grabs his arm, pulling him closer to the man in front of him. This close, he can see the small scar on Alec’s chin, the flecks of green in his eyes, the stray hairs sticking out behind his ear, and his breath hitches as Alexander brings his mouth even closer.

“Don’t worry about it, I was expecting you,” Alec murmurs, voice low and honey-sweet. “You just caught me right after a shower. Come in, I’ll get dressed.” He smiles when Magnus nods dumbly, then turns to head back in the room, treating the other to a full view of his bare shoulders as he moves.

Magnus swallows. He has a horrible feeling that he’s not going to survive this.

“So, Mr. Bane,” Alec starts once they’re inside. He hands Magnus a bottle of wine with a grin, and gestures to two glasses set up on a side table before he turns away. “What brings you here?” He fiddles with the hem of his towel teasingly as he walks towards a dressing screen set up in the corner of the room, and Magnus’s mouth goes dry with the implication of the movement.

No. He’s not thinking about it. He is not thinking about it. He is not thinking about it—

—and Alexander drops his towel to the floor before stepping behind the screen. Oh my god, Magnus is way too fucking sober for this. He’s going to die here, and it’s going to be Alec’s and Alec’s ass’s fault.

Fuck. He’s getting sidetracked.

“I got your message,” Magnus finally replies, coughing awkwardly and shifting his attention to the bottle in his hand. He pops open the cork as Alec hums from behind the partition.

“I didn’t think you’d come, even if you did find the note,” he calls across the room. “I don’t suppose you’re here to tell me you’ve solved the case I gave you earlier.”

Oh, right: Hodge Starkweather, missing persons case. Magnus had received a mysteriously blank envelope in the mail just a few days prior, containing nothing but a picture of the man, the name “Starkweather,” and an “L.” scrawled across the back; Ragnor had found the message pretty much immediately, and made Magnus swear he wouldn’t take the case.

Not that it helped.

“I did find your man, actually,” Magnus says, taking a deep breath. “He’s dead.” The shuffling from behind him stops abruptly.

“Oh.” Another moment passes. Magnus quietly pours wine into the glasses in front of him until he hears Alec clear his throat. “Alright, well, if this isn’t a business visit, what is it?”

“It’s an Alexander-please-leave-this-city-before-I-find-you-dead-in-a-ditch-somewhere visit,” Magnus replies, which makes Alec laugh as he steps out from behind the partition in tight black pants and a button-down shirt.

(Most assume he’d have more lavish tastes with the amount of money he’s acquired, but Magnus has always liked this toned-down version of him. Alec looks young like this, unaffected by the troubles that have touched him, like there’s a bit of foolishness and hope in him that the horrible world outside can never take away.)

“Well, that makes this a social visit, then,” he grins lopsidedly, in that way that makes Magnus want to reach out and touch his mouth with his fingertips, holding out a glass of wine in offering. “Do you really think I can’t take care of myself? This is hardly the first death threat I’ve faced, you know that.”

God, he’s so unbothered and careless about this— doesn’t he fucking get it? “This is different,” Magnus insists. “Please, Alexander, listen to me. Leave. Leave before they can find you,” he begs, but Alec stays unbothered.

“Magnus, it’s fine. Calm down, I’ll be okay.” He rolls his eyes when Magnus frowns, and holds his hand out further. “Have a drink, you’ll feel better,” he says, in a move that’s meant to be reassuring and Magnus just— he snaps.

“Fuck your drink!” he shouts, shoving Alec’s hand to the side. Liquid sloshes over the rim of the glass, staining the carpet, and Raphael’s going to throw a tantrum over it tomorrow and glare at him the whole time, but Magnus doesn’t care, he can’t care, not with so many more important things at stake right now, things that Alexander doesn’t seem to care about at all. “Your life is on the line! Your Robin Hood routine has worked great these past few years, but it won’t mean anything if you’re dead tomorrow, Alexander! I know you’re not afraid, but what if I am? I can’t—” He cuts off with a strangled sound and looks away.

“I can’t— I won’t be able to handle finding you like the others,” he murmurs.

Shit.

Shit, shit, shit, he wasn’t supposed to say that, it’s too honest, it’s too vulnerable, too open, and now Alec is staring at him, probably getting ready to laugh at him or tell him he cares too much or that he’s insane, and God, that’s always it, isn’t it? He’s always cared too much, and now he’s going to lose the one person who didn’t know that yet, who he hadn’t scared off with all of his stupid fucking baggage, because he messed it up, like he always does with everyone.

“Magnus,” Alec says.

Magnus’s mouth tightens as he continues to avoid eye contact. “Magnus, hey, look at me.” Gentle fingers cradle his chin, tilting his face upwards until his gaze meets Alec’s. There’s a warmth there that Magnus hadn’t expected to see, and it’s startling in how tender it is. Magnus has half a mind to look away again.

“You’ve always saved people,” Alec says softly, still holding Magnus’s jaw. “I’ve always loved that about you. But who saves you?”

Magnus blinks. “What?” he says, but Alexander shakes his head before he’s leaning in slowly, shifting his hand to cup Magnus’s cheek, and oh.

Something dislodges in Magnus’s stomach as he takes it all in: the softness of Alexander’s lips, the emotion he pours into each breath, the gentle exhale he lets out before pressing his mouth against Magnus’s again. It all feels like coming home, like his world’s been tilted on an axis his whole life and it’s finally clicked back into place with the gentle press of Alec’s lips on his.

“Alexander,” Magnus whispers. They’re still close enough that he can feel Alec’s errant little smile against the bridge of his upper lip, both of them unwilling to part further than necessary to breathe, and he reaches out to clutch at his shoulders when the other man leans in for a another small kiss, this one indulgent and sweet.

“If I leave,” Alec says, brushing his nose against Magnus’s, “I can’t save you.” He brings his other hand up to trace Magnus’s lower lip with his thumb. “You need someone to save you, Magnus. The same way you do with others.”

Magnus inhales shakily. “I’m sure I’ll be fine if I know you’re somewhere safe,” he replies, but Alexander shakes his head again.

“You won’t. And I can’t leave you here,” he murmurs. He presses their foreheads together and runs his hand against Magnus’s cheek. “Let me help you, for once.”

Magnus sighs. He thinks about the people he’s lost in these few weeks, the guilt that’s been eating him alive from the inside-out everytime he thinks about them, but he knows Alec won’t leave, the same way Magnus wouldn’t have left if the roles were reversed. They’ve always been like that: looking out for each other. Saving each other. Magnus was foolish to think Alexander would leave now.

“Okay,” he says, and Alec’s face lights up. “Okay.”

“Good.”

He intertwines their fingers, and they stand there for a moment, breathing each other in, until Alec’s smile turns playful. “Now, I had this super sexy plan that involved a lot more of that towel to seduce you into that bed there, just because it seemed like the sort of thing to do,” he says, “but what do you say we just take a nap?”

Magnus laughs. They both don’t have time for things like naps, they both have things to do, entire worlds to attend to, but then he looks back up at Alec and thinks: their worlds can wait for one day. They can have this.

“Yes,” he replies, “That sounds lovely.” He takes Alec’s hand, letting him lead him to the bed, and settles into the sheets, curling his body towards the other as he does so.

“This was a horrible idea. I don’t know if I’ll be able to sleep when I know you’re here,” Alec whispers after a moment. “I never want to look away.” Magnus smiles, trying to keep the mood light despite the way his breath catches.

“You’re a sap.” He leans in to steal another kiss, and grins. “Also, for the record, I wouldn’t be opposed to the seduction plan later,” he adds, which prompts Alexander to snort loudly even as his eyes crinkle at the corners in amusement.

“Good to know,” he says. “Good to know.”

They’ll probably discuss that more thoroughly tomorrow. For now, they sleep.

[laketaj24]

The Rules IV: Triggered

Author’s Note: Thank you all soo much for your input!!! It helped me out more than you know! This was fun as hell to write and I hope you’re down for a ride! It’s about to go down. There are two songs that really hit the nail on the head for this part, they are linked below! Happy Reading my people!

Pairing: CEO!Henry Cavill X Reader

Warning: Angst. SMUT. DRAMA.

Want to catch up! Click HERE

Song Inspirations: Jhene Aiko: Triggered (First Part) Jhene Aiko: P*SSY Fairy

If your heart slowed anymore, you’d collapse. But it wasn’t just the lethargic beat of your heart that slowed down. The kiss. The fucking kiss was being replayed in your head over and over, the way she cupped him, the way his lips touched hers and he deepened it. You feel the bile rise at the helm of your throat and you step back.

“Excuse me.” You whispered to a bewildered Alex, “I need to leave.”

He noticed. You could tell by the way he looked back to Henry and then you. His tall frame went from relaxed to apathetic. “Is it him?” He gave a wave in Henry’s direction and then stepped closer to you. “Y/N?”

“I can’t talk about this right now.” You attempted to push your way through the crowd and caught an opening into the gala hall. Alex was on your feet, his long strides made it easy for him to catch you. “Hey, I can’t talk about it right now.”

Your mind raced, he took a month away from you, was it because the entire time he had her? Were you some fucking mistress, side-chick, side bitch… Homewrecker? Inwardly you taunted yourself with the unceasing line of insults to yourself. Fuck! Fuck.

“Look.” Alex cleared his throat and stepped closer to you. His presence kept you from bolting into the nearest room and destroying everything in it. You were grateful for that, maybe. “He is not worth you not enjoying this night. Do you know how beautiful you are right now? Every eye in the building was with you when we arrived. Make him mad, but don’t let him win. He did nothing to deserve a win apparently.”

The pep talk worked and more and more you were starting to understand why Alex was a friend you didn't want to lose regardless of what happened. The first dance is casual, you fight tears watching the woman touch his hand, laid her hand on his chest and laugh like he was a comedian. He wasn't that damn funny. You stay for an hour, it was required to stay an hour, you have done only what was expected of you and nothing more. Alex took you home, the car ride is silent besides the occasional murmur of a curse word under your breath.

Home is what you craved more than anything, once the door was closed and Alex's driver left you released a scream that scared you, followed by a sob as you felt your heart literally break. What a fucking feeling? Grief for someone who didn't deserve it. You didn't drink to solve your problems, so alcohol was a no. Sleep was the obvious answer.  The dress felt like it burned your skin, you were certain it didn't, but the fact that it came from him made it poison. He was poison, that you willingly chugged down like a vintage wine and now the repercussions had finally made their grand entrance. And fuck them.

Why were you looking them up, they were a known couple, known to everyone but you? You typed in his name and nothing but her appeared Billionaire Henry Cavill and Olivia Tate grace the Emmy's with their presence. Will this playboy finally settle down? Olivia Tate has HC's heart around her finger. You were sick again. You throw the phone on the couch and screenshot the picture of him kissing her. Is this the future Mrs. Cavill?

You changed clothes, slipping the crop top and leggings on. You knew it wasn't the end of the night. And you were right, sleep does not come. He sends you seven messages, each of which you stared at trying to formulate a response, but they didn't merit one, until the last one.

Henry: I've been looking for you for an hour. Where are you?

Henry: You left without a word? Are you mad or something?

Henry: A response would be nice.

Henry: Y/N

Henry: Y/N. I'll find you later.

Henry: Be there in ten.

Y/N: Drive safe. Are you bringing the wife with you?

You hit send of the picture you'd saved.

Henry: Wow.

The wait for him to arrive only infuriates you more, your mother had always said your temper was like a wildfire, once it sparked it would consume everything to the ground. You knew she was right; Henry even knew your temper needed to be managed, but no one fucking managed you. This included Henry. He didn't knock. He never did really, he entered with his perfectly tailored suit and an eye roll. And the lamp crashed behind him. He ducks, but his face is shocked.

"What the fuck was that?" he hissed.

"My fucking two-hundred-dollar lamp." You picked up the shoes and hurled them across the room next and he ducked as if he knew they were coming and charged towards you. You moved from his grasp. "You have been with her for a year!" It roared out of you and then the tears followed. "Why did you even come over here? Did you think I would be okay with it? Do you think I want to be your whore? Come when you say, fuck when you say and then you go home to her. Don't touch me!!"

"You're not going to let me explain, are you?"

"Oh, for fuck's sake! Explain Henry, tell me what lie did you conjure up, while headed here. She's just a friend. I wasn't with her." you shake your head and Henry folds his arms across his chest. "Is she the reason you wouldn't let me kiss you?"

"Are you finishing acting like-."

"Say it!" You cut him off and step closer to him. You wanted to hit something, but his face was too pretty for that shit, and despite your anger, your mother raised you better than that, "Like what Henry? Get out."

"Y/N."

"I said get the fuck out!"

His jaw clenched and he pushed his hands through his thick mane of brown curls, ending the polished look he had earlier. "I'll call you later."

"Oh, no the fuck you won't." You opened the door to Alex standing there with his eyes on Henry. Why was he back? "He was just leaving." You explained to Alex. "Bye."

Alex stepped aside and held up the brown bag, you could smell the Chinese and noticed the wine bottle. "We didn't get to eat." He explained. The smug grin on his face sealed the night, he was a good guy.

You smiled and watched Henry stare at him before looking back at you. He shook his head, "Goodnight."

"Fuck you." You whispered.

In the past hearing, people say they were numb sounded foolish, of course, they felt. A human cannot simply shut it all off, but you were wrong. So wrong, it was easier to go numb than to feel. It started with work, your time invested in the company allotted you vacation three fucking weeks, paid and free.

The first week you spent with Alex, not fucking his brains out like a part of you wanted to but being a friend. He allowed you to talk, you told him everything and he listened with no judgment and that made it easier. Tia was around too, she spent the night with you when she could, in between hair appointments and makeup slots. Her career was changing fast, you were happy for her even if you barely showed it at times.

The second week you shut them both out. You told them you were out of town, but you were in your apartment with food and tear-soaked pillows. His phone calls had stopped, but you feared it was only because you changed the number. Work could contact you via email if they needed to, but no one even called you during the first two weeks. The marketing strategy you left would do well, you knew it. And besides your certainty in your program, you didn’t care what Cavill Industries did at the moment.

The third week, everything went numb, there were no more tears to cry. Every inkling of him that existed was gone, including the $6000 dollar dress. You burned it and at that final act, the night was gone from your mind. He’d broken the rules. You’d both set them and when he kissed her, he disqualified himself.

The first day back to work your anxiety had you in its grip. Every phone call and opening of your door you dreaded. But he didn’t come. He wasn’t even in the building, according to your boss and that eased everything. You could work with him not being anywhere near you, and that made you apply to the other firms that had once been interested in you. You got two calls immediately. Matheus Corporate wanted to hire you without an interview and after the offer they sent, you were taking it. You typed out your resignation letter and turned it into HR. It was the right choice.

It was a month before you saw him again, and the Cavill you saw briefly in the lobby looked nothing like the one you had grown accustomed to. His hair was wild, and he had a beard, an actual beard. His slate-blue eyes were tired as were his movements. Just seeing him triggered you, the horrid memories of that night flooded your head and the pain resurfaced. Being numb would not be possible around him. You knew it. You hid in the stairwell like an idiot and avoided him. Nine more days of work here and you would be clear.

“Look, the way I see it, we are friends now.” Alex kicked his feet up on your desk and looked to you for affirmation.

You gave it to him nodding your head and chugging down your third bottle of water. “Yes, we’re friends. So, when I call you up at midnight and you’re with your little girlfriend cuddling and things you still have to make an appearance.”

“Girlfriend?” He scoffed.

“You heard me.” You pointed at him.

“I’m hoping one day the little girlfriend, I am cuddling will be you.” He smiled. “There is no rush and no expectation for it. But I didn’t want you to leave this place, oblivious to the fact that I really like you.”

Your heart warmed and you smiled. “Nine days to go and your boldness is out the bag.”

He shrugged. “Did I get brownie points?”

“A whole cake.” You said. You were back to work an hour later, singing under your breath when the door opened.

“I told him to wait outside.” Your assistant said, trying to beat Henry in the office. She turned to you. “Ms. YLN, Mr. Cavill is here to see you.” But he was already in front of your desk.

“Get out.” He said to her.

“Whatever you have to say to me, she can hear.” For some reason, you knew if the door closed you would succumb to him, “Speak.”

“You are not leaving.” His voice was not composed, just wavering and near weak. “Y/N.”

“Gianna, you can go.” You exhaled. What the hell had happened to him? She left the room and the space that once seemed huge started to shrink. Henry walked towards you and you held your hand up when he reached your desk. “What?”

“You changed your number.”

“What did you expect?”

“For you to give me a chance to explain,” His eyes plead with yours for the opportunity. “Can I have that please?”

“You don’t owe me an explanation, I was never yours, right?”

“You’re still mine.” The slight possessiveness came back to his voice.  

It made you weak for a moment, your hitched breath took over the silence. “Hurry up, Henry.”

“She is my girlfriend.” He said.

The words punch at a wound you were certain was nearly healed. You hoped he was going to say that he left her, the pathetically infatuated part of you wanted him to say, she dumped him. But he just reaffirmed what you already knew. Olivia Tate was the official girlfriend of Henry Cavill. “Thanks?” You swallowed. “Why are you here?”

“I don’t want her to be, I want you.”

“You are making no sense and I don’t want to hear it. I don’t want to throw things at you here. I just wanted to leave all this in the past. Go be with her.”

“Y/N.” He said your name as if he was fighting for breath. “There are some things you do not understand about me. Things I would rather not talk about, but I don’t want her.”

“Then leave her! Damn it.” You bit out. “You are a grown man. You can make decisions on your own. If you didn’t want her then end it. End it now.”

“I can’t talk here.”

“Where else are you gonna talk?” You laughed. “My place? Hell no.”

“Mine.” He shook his head. “I’ll send a car for you after work. Don’t make them work Y/N. Just come.” He looked at you. “Please.”

“Fine.”

 You didn’t fight his orders on meeting him, curiosity reared its ugly head and you were gone. His home was at the edge of town, the driveway curved up a hill and lead to the glass estate. It was incredible. Had you been here on better circumstances, you would have enjoyed the view. You stepped out and the door opened. Henry had shed the suit for a black shirt and black sweats that hung at his waist somehow accenting his frame. Fuck. Were you even going to be strong enough to say no to this god? One last fuck? Just to say goodbye fuck, it wouldn’t be frowned upon.

You argued with yourself and walked into the home, the décor was much like his office dark brown woods with a modern sense. You stood in the foyer and looked at him. The closer to the door you were, the more likely you were to say no to him without hesitation.

“I can’t shut you out of my mind.” He confessed. He had shaved, but his hair was still tucked behind his ears, longer than normal.

“Just tell me.”

“I met Olivia in college.” He sighed. “We used to date off and on, but it was never more than sex. Never.”

“That’s all it is with us.” You interrupted. “Hence the reason I don’t need this talk.”

“Then why’d you come?” Henry stared. “I have been infatuated with you for months and when I finally got the opportunity to be with you, I jumped at it.”

“Don’t feed me bullshit.” You held your hand up.

“Who do you think hired you?”

“Why can’t you just leave her?” You asked.

“She knows things about me that can ruin me.” he stopped talking. “Liv is talented at getting the things she wants. If I leave her, she’ll spill it.”

“Oh, get the fuck out of here!” You laugh. “You expect me to believe this Lifetime movie shit? You got a girlfriend and you want me too. Admit it.”

“I don’t want her.” He shook his head. “I want you.”

“You can say it until you’re blue in the face. If you don’t show me, how in the fuck am I supposed to believe that this… isn’t just a way for you to get what you want.”

Henry sunk to his knees. “I’ll beg you.”

“Dogs beg.” You spat.

“Anything.” He rasped.

“Do you know how bad I hurt? I didn’t work for weeks. I didn’t care for weeks. We’ve been together a month. Do you think my behavior was normal? Do you think yours is normal? No. We are bad for one another and I just…”

How did he get up so fast? You moved back and he was on you, his steps heavy and determined. He caged you against the wall and then you realized, his face was wet with tears.

“You have to believe me.” He whispered and the fear clawed through him. “Please.”

There was an urge pushing you to leave this place, nothing good can come from him. But his face was pained, you’d never seen this part of him. You cupped his face affectionately and your lips graze his cheek. It feels as if he shutters and then you just do it. You hesitantly kiss him. Your lips touch his and the energy that passes through you ignites a groan.

“Please.” The plea is accompanied by him responding to the kiss, tenderly. He leaned into you, his body blanketing to you and taking whatever breath you thought you had left. But you were sure that he took your breath away without a kiss. His brow furrowed as he deepened it pushing your head against the door. He wrapped his arms around you, swaddling you in his muscles while somehow it wasn’t the muscles that you felt. For the first time, he was being himself with you. He allowed you to feel what you didn’t even know was there.

He pulled back from you and he moved as if he was dizzy. The breath he had stolen from you had made it's way back to you and you inhaled. There was more than a desire that flickered between the two of you.

“I’ve wanted to do that for so long.”

His eyes flashed with a little hope. “Same.” Henry didn’t wait for permission he just scooped you up from the floor and kissed you again, this time it hurt. The hurt is so fucking good.

“I want,” the words were caught in your throat. Was this right or were you spiraling? “I want you, here. Right here.” He lowered you both down on the steps so that you were straddling him, you didn’t care for his comfort. You wanted him to feel you. “You remember the rules?” You whispered. Your tongue licks his lips and then dives in and he’s taken back, gripping your ass that is winding on his dick. You can feel him through the sweats. “Hmm…”

“I could never forget.”

“Don’t cum unless I say.” You smiled before kissing him again. You bucked your hips on and his eyes widened the lust pushing through. “You hear me, sir?” Your voice was low and filled with lust. “I want to fuck you right here.” He grew harder, flinching against you. “I want you to moan my name when you cum…”

Henry’s hands were in your hair, pulling you back so he could see your eyes. “I’ll do whatever the fuck you want me to, just fuck me.” He begged.

“Did you miss me?”

“Always.” He groaned lowering his head to your breast. He sprung the from the blouse and ripped it in two. “Always.”

You wanted to believe him, but the lingering hurt from the past month. “If you lie to me again,” You unsheathed him from his sweats and stroked your hand down the length of his cock. You swiped the precum that oozed from the tip down and pumped again. “Missing me is all you’ll know how to do, sir.”

“Fuck,” He jumped in your hand and sucked air in through his teeth.

“Understand?”

“I-,” He moaned when you increased your speed. “Oh fuck.”

“Yeah,” You were so turned on by the way you were making him feel. You now understood why he wanted to be in control of everything in the bed. It was sexy as fuck to watch what you could do to someone. You could watch them unravel, put them back together and do it again.

Henry pushed the pen skirt up and easily ripped the panties. He tossed them behind you and his fingers were in you. Prodding and working, you fucking missed him, even though you shouldn’t have. “Y/N.” He moaned. “I’m almost there.” He panted.

You stopped stroking him and began to ride his fingers, lifting yourself from them and then back on until the next time Henry pushed his cock in. He was fighting every urge he had to allow you some control in this thing. He threw his head back when he was fully inside of you and stilled.

But you wanted to fuck him. You wanted to ride him slow and draw out every fucking moment you could with him. So, if you regretted being here in the morning, the walk of shame wouldn’t have too much shame. Your walls sealed around him and he gripped your hips trying to stop you from fucking him, but you continued. Your rhythm was wild, you used his shoulders like an anchor and smiled down at him. His face was red and misted with sweat. His curls were soaked, and he was mesmerized. Your tits bounced in front of him and your eyes were rolling. “Y/N.” He warned and you felt his cock grow harder and then he growled, shuddering in your breast as if he had waited forever to cum inside of you.

“Seems you broke a rule.” You laughed and continued to fuck him. He made sounds that only made you wetter for him and the man was part machine. He had to be as his cock grew back rigid and he was still shuttering from coming the time before.

Henry licked his fingers and slapped them onto your clit before he pulled you towards him. His fingers knew how to work your pussy. Moving in circles and then another slap before he started back again, and you were about to cum. You didn’t want to. You shook your head and Henry looked up at you, “I won’t last another time. I ca-,” Your pussy shook around his and your thighs locked down as the pleasure surged through your body. “Shit!” He yelled before slamming into you and spilling his cum again. “Y/N.” He rasped.

The floor wasn’t a bad place to lay for the time being. Henry was wrapped around your naked body and there was no need for cover. He kept you warm enough.

“Was she the reason you didn’t kiss me?”

He exhaled. “She,” he paused. “I never know when she will decide to come back into my life.” He admits. “And up until you, it was easier not kissing, that way when it ended… there were no emotions in it. It was just fucking. I can’t do that with you, okay? A single glance from you could make my heart stop, a kiss would have shattered me.” Henry admitted.

It was quiet for a while. Just deep breaths and kisses all down your body. “Let’s go to bed.” You said finally. “My boss would be mad as hell if I missed tomorrow.”

“I’m throwing you resignation away, and if you’re having problems out of Mike… I’ll fire his ass.” He stood up and reached his hand out to you. “Come on, the bed is the proper place to make sure you’re so tired work isn’t an option.”

  His bed was comfortable, the sheets were so soft you were tempted to ask where he got them. You slept peacefully entangled in the muscled mass that is Henry. But it was not a complaint to make, being without him for so long made you grateful you could listen to him breathe and feel his heart against your back.

“Thank God.” The unfamiliar voice came from the bottom of the bed.

Your eyes narrowed as the bright sun made its way through the windows. The blonde hair was the first take away, it was Olivia. You scrambled from under Henry’s body. “Henry!” If she wanted a fight, you were ready to fight her, you’d just prefer to not be naked while doing it.

Henry groaned and once he caught sight of her he jolted up from the bed. “Olivia. You’re not supposed to be here.”

“Don’t be rude. I was just saying thank God.” Olivia leaned over his legs and looked at you. “I hated watching him mope around here. He looked like a puppy, sad because his bitch went away.”

“Bitch? I beg your pardon, Henry if you don’t get this woman.” Henry gave an admonished look to Olivia and gripped your hand. It didn’t comfort you. It just pissed you off. You snatched your hand away from him. “Who the fuck do you think you are?” One more foul word from her and you’d fight naked.

“Excuse my manners, darling. I’m Olivia and I am so glad you are here. It seems we have some rules to introduce.” She pushed up from the bed and left the room. “Chop, chop Henry, dear. Bring your bitch, I have a plane to catch.”

[unholyobsessions]

Those who get sick together, stay together

Pairing: Julie x Luke

Description: Luke and Julie are best friends and it takes a delirious love confession for them to finally get together

Requested: Yes

A/N: It may seem kind of rushed? not my best work but at the same time i really like it

Warnings: Sickness, throwing up

Word Count: 2.5k

Masterlist

Here’s the thing, when you’ve known someone all your life you get used to doing everything together. Whether it be going to the arcade, the movies, shopping sprees, or vacations, where one goes, the other follows. That is the case with Julie Molina and Luke Patterson.

Growing up as neighbors in a suburban neighborhood of mostly retired couples made them the only kids within a five mile radius (and the winners of every chocolate selling competition the school hosted.) It was impossible to see the two of them apart and they liked it that way. They took the same classes and same extracurriculars, going as far as getting in trouble on purpose if the other had already gotten detention (when they were given a different schedule their freshmen year of high school, they gave a powerpoint presentation to the principle on the reasons they needed to be together… it worked.)

Considering the fact that they were never apart, it really came as no surprise when they both came down with the stomach flu the same weekend. Whenever they’re sick, they normally FaceTime the entire time, neither strong enough to visit and staying away if the other had miraculously not caught the sickness. This time however, Luke’s parents have to go on a business trip that has been scheduled for over a month that they really could not afford to cancel. Rose, ever the angel, immediately offered to have Luke stay over, saying that she is already going to take care of Julie, might as well nurse Luke back to health as well.

So that is why they both find themselves tucked into Julie’s bed with wet rags on their foreheads and grimaces on their faces. They each have their respective trash cans next to them in case they don’t have the time to run to the bathroom before throwing up.

Rose walks into the room with a bowl of ice in her hand but instead of going straight to the bed, she goes to Julie’s windows and pulls open the the purple blinds with butterfly stickers stuck to them. As a result, Luke and Julie let out loud groans and pull the covers over their heads. Rose rolls her eyes and walks over.

“The two of you are so dramatic I swear.” She pulls down the cover and takes both the rags to put them in the bowl.

“Mom,” they say, dragging out the word. A smile pulls at Rose’s lips, as it always does whenever Luke calls her mom. It’s been happening for years really, just as he calls Ray, Dad and Julie calls Mr. and Mrs. Patterson Ma and Pops respectively.

“Don’t mom me. You should be thankful I’m even here taking care of you.” They all know she’s lying. She would move a mountain for them, for anyone really, that’s just how Rose is.

She grabs the packet of pills from her pocket and gets two giving one to each of them. “Put these under your tongue and let them dissolve.” They both obediently do it but shoot up from the bed a few seconds later. Julie makes a run for the bathroom and Luke opts for the trashcan. Rose rushes after Julie, holding her hair back as she retches into the toilet. She faintly hears the sounds of Luke gagging and she lets out a sigh. So much for the pills.

Julie brushes her teeth and goes back to the bed, Luke getting up to rinse his mouth as well. Rose turn on the TV, hoping a couple of Friends reruns will brighten up their mood, and is about to walk out of the room when she hears a crash from the bathroom. She runs in to see Luke standing over a broken glass. He looks up with tears in his eyes.

“I-it fell. I didn’t mean too. I’m sorry.” Rose has to resist the urge to laugh as she grabs his hand and leads him back to the bed. She gets the now cold rags and places them over their foreheads again before turning off the light and going back to the bathroom to clean the mess.

Julie scoots closer to Luke and lays her head on his shoulder. Luke has the urge to push her away because the room feels much too hot for cuddling but when he opens his mouth to tell her to move she looks up at him with the biggest puppy dog eyes he has ever seen. He sighs and ignores the sweat forming under his clothes, pulling Julie closer against him, both drifting off to sleep after a few episodes.

. . .

The next morning they’re no longer running a fever but they do find out the hard way that they still cannot keep any food down. When Rose tries to give them some plain toast, hoping that they will at least get some food in them, they both got up from the bed, this time Luke going to the bathroom and Julie using the trashcan.

With a heavy sigh, Rose phones the doctor, questioning him on what is the best option for two picky teenagers.

He suggests using syrup medicine instead of pills and tells her a pharmacy where she could pick it up in a couple of minutes. She thanks him profusely before hanging up. When she goes back upstairs she sees Julie and Luke both making their way back to the bed after brushing their teeth.

“Hey guys I’m going to pick up some medicine, I’ll be about forty-five minutes. You going to be okay by yourselves?” She calls from the doorway. Julie groans and tucks herself further into the bed. Luke laughs and looks up at Rose.

“We’ll be okay mom. I’m pretty sure Julie is going back to sleep,” he answers with a smile. He still felt terrible but he wasn’t nauseous anymore and he called that a win. She smiled and said goodbye before leaving.

. . .

A few hours later, Rose goes into the room with the medicine in hand. She hadn’t given it to them when she first arrived because they had both fallen asleep. They had been awake for a few hours but the medicine is supposed to make them drowsy so she preferred to give it to them at night.

Julie’s sitting on the bed, brushing through her wet hair and Luke is changing in the bathroom. Rose sits behind Julie and gently takes the hairbrush from her. She finishes untangling her hair and gives it a final dry through with a towel. Luke comes out of the bathroom and smiles sheepishly.

“I threw up again.”

Rose simply holds out her hand and Luke speed walks to the bed. He lays down and cuddles at her side, with Julie leaning back against her chest. She places kisses on both their heads before telling them to sit up so they can take the medicine.

They each take a tablespoon and take a sip of water. Rose tucks them into bed and turns off the lights, wishing them a goodnight and waiting a beat for them to say it back.

A few minutes later, they’re laying side by side, the darkness of the room providing a sense of comfort. The medicine hits Luke harder than it should, and Julie teases him about being a lightweight as he says nothing but nonsense.

“Jules?” Luke’s voice is groggy, as if it’s fading away.

“Yeah Luke?” Julie however is fully awake, the medicine not hitting her yet.

“I love you.”

She blushes, a foolish smile pulling at her lips. “I love you too.”

“No but like, love you love you.” He’s not quite sure what he’s saying. He feels sort of like that time he got his wisdom teeth out.

Her breath hitches. “You’re delirious,” she whispers, wishing for him to take the words back before she can read too much into them.

“Maybe. But that doesn’t mean it’s not true. I’m in love with you Jules, have been for a while.” He says it as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world, but his eyes are drooping and she’s sure he won’t remember this tomorrow.

“Go to sleep Lu.” her heart clenches and she blinks the tears away, blaming the pain in her stomach and not her feelings.

“Okay. Goodnight.” And just like that he’s out like a light. A few tears slip down her cheeks and after a while, the medicine hits her and her eyes flutter shut.

The next morning she waits for him to say something, anything, and when he doesn’t she decides she won’t either. She pretends it never happened and tries her best to act normal but Luke’s not an idiot. He notices quickly that something’s wrong. She stays as far away from him in the bed as possible, flinching if even his arm brushed against hers which is a large contrast to her cuddly behavior the days prior. She would jump whenever he said her name, more specifically when he said, “Jules.”

When Rose greets them, Julie is thankful for the distraction. She keeps looking at her mom, avoiding turning her head when she gives them another dose of medicine. They’re both feeling much better and are able to hold down the toast. Rose thinks they’ll feel good as new by the next day and personally, Julie doesn’t think it can come quick enough. She stays quiet most of the day, only giving Luke short replies and nods of her head whenever he tries to start conversation. Eventually he gives up, not knowing what he did wrong but deciding to give her some time, hoping that she will approach him when she’s ready.

The next day, Luke’s parents arrive to pick him up. Julie hears them speaking to her parents; they ask for her and how she’s doing but Julie pretends to be asleep in order to avoid any conversation. She hears Luke shuffling around the room as he gets his stuff together. She pretends she doesn’t feel Luke’s lingering touch on her shoulder when he says goodbye and she ignores the tears that fall down her face when she hears the door close downstairs.

. . .

Julie and Luke did not fight. They argued but they made up within the span of a few hours, so to say Luke is worried when Julie does not reply to his texts is an understatement. It has been about two hours since he had gone home and he has sent Julie a text every ten minutes.

Julie knows Luke is not stupid and that her not answering him is suspicious but she can’t help it. She ignores every single message and turns off her phone. She keeps it off the rest of the day and tries to not think about him, because even a single thought of him breaks her heart.

The next day she leaves her phone in her room all day and stays in the living room watching Netflix with her mom. She resists the urge to go upstairs to at least read his texts because that would just make the situation worst. Late in the evening when Rose goes to make dinner Julie makes her way to the studio, itching to play the piano after four days of not doing so. She isn’t expecting to see Luke sitting on the couch with his guitar resting on his leg.

He stands up quickly once he hears her come in. They stare at each other for a couple of seconds.

“What are you doing here?” Julie asks.

“I knew it would only be a matter of time before you came in here. Julie we need to talk.” He puts his guitar down and Julie shakes her head.

“We don’t need to talk? Why would we? I’m okay. We’re okay.” Julie averts her gaze, the words falling out of her lips in rapid succession.

“We’re not okay Julie. What did I do?” He asks desperately.

“Nothing. We’re fine,” Julie assures, trying her best to sound convincing.

“Jules,” Julie flinches and Luke’s face falls. “Why haven’t you been answering my texts?”

“My phone’s been off,” she states in a matter of fact but Luke shakes his head. He’s growing frustrated and her lack of explanation is pissing him off.

“Why are you ignoring me?” His voice is loud and hurt causing Julie to break.

“Because you told me you loved me!” The silence that comes after is deafening.

“What- Jules of course I love you. I’ve said it hundreds of times.” He really hopes his nerves aren’t as evident as he thinks they are.

“Yeah, but you said you were in love with me,” Julie whispers. She looks everywhere but at him and continues to speak. “And I know you didn’t mean it and it hurts so much because I do mean it. I’m in love with you Luke. And hearing you say it while you were barely conscious broke me.”

Luke stares at her, mouth hanging open as he struggles to find the right words to say. He walks closer to her, stopping when the tips of his shoes brushed against hers. “Jules look at me please.” She begrudgingly lifts her gaze to him and his heart clenches at the sight of tears forming in her eyes. He reaches a hand up to cup her cheek, gently wiping away the first stray tear with his thumb. “I am so incredibly in love with you.”

“What?” He wishes she didn’t sound as surprised as she does.

“I’m in love with you Julie Molina. I love every single thing about you. The gap between your teeth when you smile. The way your hair never stays the way you want it to but it still looks beautiful. I love your voice, and hearing you play piano. I love how you draw on the edge of your shoes and will stop whatever you are doing to write down a melody, even if we’re in the middle of a test. I love your little jokes and how you laugh so unapologetically loud no matter where you are. I love you so much and god do I hate myself for telling you while I was high off of flu medicine.” Julie was full on crying now and Luke’s own eyes were starting to fill with tears.

Going off instinct, Julie goes up on her tiptoes and presses her lips against Luke’s, cupping the back of his neck to pull him closer. Luke is taken by surprise at first but once his brain starts working again, he reciprocates the kiss. When they pull away they both have similar grins plastered on their faces.

“Are we good?” Luke asks.

Julie nods her head. “More than good.”

Rose smiles when they both come back into the house at dinner time and exchanges a look with her husband when they make their way up the stairs with Luke placing a hand on Julie’s lower back.

. . .

No one is surprised when they walk into school at the end of summer break holding hands, and if they spot a few teacher exchanging twenty dollar bills, they don’t mention it.