#I have a bad habit of smiling/laughing and speaking higher pitched when lying so it just wouldn’t work

[whimsyprinx]

your name scared me so bad omg T_T

congrats on u for pulling the best April fools prank!

hehe I’m both glad to have successfully tricked so many people but also do feel bad because most of y’all said it scared y’all which is touching but also :( oh no I’ve upset people

thanks a bunch anon!!! it’s like, the only real thing I had planned for april fools tbh

[rosethesongbird]

The Nurse, the Witch, and the Witchfinder

(Yes, that is a play on “The Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe,” I’m terribly sorry, I couldn’t resist. This fic was rolling around in my head last night, and is really just a very self-indulgent exercise to try and practice writing for different illnesses; it’s also stemming from the fact that I couldn’t find many fics about Newt and Anathema, which makes sense as Azi and Crowley are really much more interesting characters--but why not give the American witch and her Witchfinder some more love? Anathema needs a friend!! Anyways, enjoy it, and enjoy me trying to flesh out my OC. I may try to write another part, if I feel so inclined. -R)

“Good morning, Dawn,”

“Mornin’, Ana.” 

Dawn’s neighbor peeked over the shrub “fence” separating their gardens. 

“Can I ask you a weird question?”

“Sure, long as you don’t mind me answering your weird question while I’m elbow deep in hydrangeas.” It was mid-morning, about ten, and Dawn’s short brown curls were pulled back into a half ponytail, concealed under a wide brimmed straw hat. A perfect day for gardening, it was, and she needed to unwind after five days of hosting two celestial beings at her home followed by a rough work week. 

“Are you working today?” Anathema looked like she had just woken up. Her long hair was piled on top of her head in a haphazard bun. 

“No, I’ve got the day off.” Dawn stopped for a moment, thinking. “That’s not a very weird question.”

“Well, no, that was a… preliminary question. The weird question is, would you mind coming by later today and taking a look at Newt?” 

Dawn’s focus returned to her planter. “Shouldn’t be a problem. Why, what’s wrong with him?” She picked up a small grasshopper, frowning and squishing it between two gloved fingers. 

“Well, all day yesterday he had a migraine, and barely left the bed. Usually he can sleep them off just fine, but he was up all night tossing and turning, and this morning he’s worse,” Anathema yawned. “I just want to make sure it’s not the flu or anything.” 

“Does he have a fever?” 

Anathema shrugged. “He feels pretty warm, but… he broke our thermometer.” Dawn chuckled. “Plus, my hands are always cold anyway.” 

“Hm… alright. Do you think it can wait a couple of hours? Tell you what, I’ll come by around lunchtime, and I’ll bring lunch, if you don’t mind hosting.” she patted her hands together, brushing off the extra soil, and stood up. She stood several inches shorter than Anathema, despite her yard being on the “higher” side of the hill. “Jack’s on travel, so I’m by myself for the next few days. Might as well have lunch with a friend,” she smiled. 

“Sounds good to me! How about I’ll make some tea. Iced, to remind us of home.” 

“Perfect.” Dawn grinned. “It’ll be our little Yankee secret.” 

—

Dawn knocked cautiously on the front door, carrying a lunch bag, her usual handbag looped over her shoulder. The door opened with a squeak after a few seconds, revealing a still tired-looking but washed and dressed Anathema. 

“Hey! Sorry,” her voice was hushed. “Newt’s asleep.”

“Oh, no worries,” said Dawn, voice quieted to match. “Poor guy probably needs the rest, anyway.” She walked in, setting her handbag down, and slipping off her shoes. “I totally came here in my house slippers,” she said, grinning. 

Anathema struggled to suppress a laugh. “Stop, I’m gonna laugh and wake him up!” 

“Oh,” Dawn dug around in her handbag before pulling out a small glass thermometer. “I brought this, too. You can keep it, since your man’s so technologically challenged,” Dawn snickered. 

The two women made their way into the kitchen, sharing a quiet conversation about the domesticity of everyday life in Tadfield. Anathema poured them both a glass of ice cold tea. 

“There isn’t any witchy magic in this tea, is there?” Dawn said, opening the lunch bag. 

“Nope. Just good old fashioned regular tea. Although I can’t say I didn’t try to get Newt to drink a few… remedies." 

Dawn laughed, handing the taller brunette a small sandwich wrapped in paper. 

“Gourmet cookin’,” she said, taking a bite. 

“Mm, just like Mom used to make,” Anathema remarked, smirking. They shared a beat of silence, just “munching,” as Dawn would say. 

“So, how’s Newt? Any better in the past couple of hours?” Dawn said, having already eaten three-quarters of her sandwich. 

“Not really,” said the witch. She finished chewing before speaking again. “He fell asleep while I was out in the garden, and hasn’t really woken up since. He still seems really warm, too.” 

As if on cue, a noise came from the room upstairs, sounding somewhat between a high-pitched whine and a moan. “Anathema,” Newt cried out. 

“Oh, poor thing,” Dawn said sympathetically. 

“Here, come on up,” Anathema set down her sandwich and gestured warmly to the shorter woman. As the two made their way to the stairwell, the man in the bedroom cried out again, with some urgency. “I’m coming, Newt,” Anathema yelled up the stairs. “Dawn’s here, to take a look at you, too.” Anathema looked back at Dawn, brown eyes meeting each other with a knowing glance. They climbed the stairs, Anathema quietly opening the door to the bedroom, entering first. 

“Hey, you OK?” Newt groaned in response. Dawn entered the room in silence, her eyebrows knitting together in concern. She took a moment, transferring her thoughts into “work mode,” taking in the sight of her patient. 

The man was lying on his back in the bed he shared with Anathema, head propped up slightly on a well-loved pillow. He was holding himself stiffly, almost as if he was afraid to move, and his eyes were shut tight, despite the curtains still being shut in the room. His chest was bare but for the hair that grew there, and his skin was pale yet tinged with the telltale flush of fever, shining with a cast of sweat. His hair stuck to his forehead, and his glasses lay on the nightstand, untouched since the night before. 

“Hey, Newt,” Dawn said, softly. “Can I take a look at you?” His eyes, now opened, were glassy; illness shrouding the usual robin’s egg blue.

“Anathema,” he said, slurring. 

“I’m right here, babe,” she said, crouching by his side, face betraying her sudden surge of worry. “How are you feeling?” 

“Mh. Hot,” he breathed. 

“Here,” she picked up a glass of water from the nightstand, supporting him as he struggled to sit up. 

“Hold on,” Dawn interrupted. “Let me take his temp first. It won’t be accurate if he’s had anything to drink.” She sat down next to the man in the bed. 

“But ‘m thirsty,” he whined, leaning back on the pillow. 

“I know, sweetheart. It’ll only take a few minutes, I promise,” Dawn allowed the pet name to slip from her lips. It was a force of habit she retained from work, when dealing with someone so ill. 

Newt relented and allowed her to place the thermometer in his mouth. “There you go. Ana, will you set a timer for three minutes? I know I’m gonna forget that glass ones don’t beep.” 

“Three minutes, got it,” she said, fiddling with her phone before looking back up to her boyfriend, clasping his shaking hand in hers, strong and cool. 

“Can I feel around for your lymph nodes, Newt?” 

He shrugged weakly, giving a small noise of approval. “Alright, look up for me?” Her hands gently began feeling around his neck. His skin was not warm to the touch, but hot; and to be honest, she hardly needed to touch him—his glands were visibly swollen and angry-looking. She pushed lightly up on his chin to be met with a groan of pain—causing her to instantly pull her hands away. 

“Oh, I’m sorry! Is your neck a little sore?” 

“Mhm,” he hummed. “Stiff,” he struggled to form the word around the thermometer. 

Anathema shushed him. “Don’t talk,” she said, comfortingly. 

“Well, I won’t touch those again,” said Dawn. “Let me check somewhere else. Can you raise your arms just a little bit?” The man complied, albeit feebly. She pressed gently under his arms, finding more swelling. 

“Are these tender at all?” He shook his head slowly, shutting his eyes tightly at the motion. 

“Hm. Still have a headache?” he hummed in affirmation. 

“Oh, poor baby,” Anathema gently stroked his hair, pushing it off of his forehead. 

Dawn turned away from him and frowned, thinking. “Have you been up and walking around at all since you started feeling bad?” 

He opened his eyes, looking at Anathema. “Mmh,” he tapped her hand lightly. 

“Oh, he did get up yesterday, but he got dizzy and almost fell over, so I had to help him,” she said, Newt moaning again through closed lips in agreement. Anathema’s phone started chiming, loudly, and he groaned again at the sound, shutting his eyes tightly. 

“Alright, let’s see,” said Dawn, taking the thermometer from the man’s chapped lips. His face paled suddenly as Dawn was distracted, holding the small glass rod up to the small amount of light coming through the curtain. 

“You okay?” Anathema checked in again. 

“Nauseous,” Newt sat forward from the pillows, breathing quickly and heavily. 

“Do you think you’re gonna throw up?” The witch started rubbing his back in small, gentle circles. 

“No,” he said, managing to slur a single syllable word. He immediately retched, a small amount of vomit coming from his mouth and nose. 

“Oh, sweetie,” Anathema cooed. “Hold on for just a second, I’ll be right back with a rag.” 

Dawn took her place rubbing his back as she left the room. She smiled warmly, meeting eyes with the man for a moment, before his eyes slid closed. 

“S’rry,” he coughed, as his stomach contents bubbled up and out of gently parted lips; his body had used all of its energy on the single contraction of his belly, forcing him to swallow the bulk of it again to avoid choking.

“Don’t be,” said Dawn, wiping his lips with a balled-up tissue. “Ana, would you bring some more rags and some cool water?” She yelled down the stairs, trying to be loud enough for the other woman to hear her while not hurting her patient’s sensitive ears. 

“Got it,” the witch’s voice was followed by the sound of tap turning on. 

The nurse turned her attention back to her patient. The rise and fall of his chest was shaky but even, his neck muscles stood out in tension. The witch entered the room, carrying a bowl of water and a stack of washcloths. She wet one of the cloths in the water, wringing it out;  then wiped his chin, neck, and chest clean of any remains of his prior sickness. 

“Will you give me a couple, Ana?” 

“Sure,” she obliged. “What was his temperature?”

“Pretty high,” the nurse frowned. “40.4 C, so… like 104-and-a-half Fahrenheit? Approximately?” 

“Oh, wow,” said Anathema, with concern. “Isn’t that dangerous?” she brushed Newt’s hair off of his face again, allowing her hand to comfortingly linger in the dark brown curls. 

“Well, it can be,” Dawn applied one of her cloths to the base of the man’s neck. “As long as it responds to treatment, it shouldn’t cause any harm, but we’ll keep a close eye on it.” She lifted the man’s arm, rolling up another rag, then wedging it in the pit of his arm, next to the sensitive swollen glands. He didn’t move as she applied the same technique to the opposite arm, both arms falling limp by his side. His body jerked suddenly, a trickle of bile escaping his lips; breath catching, and an involuntary cough, the rest of his body still completely limp. 

“You okay, Newt?” said Dawn, eyebrows furrowed. The man didn’t respond. “Hey, c’mon, wake up,” she gently patted his cheek with an open hand, the skin still pyretic under her palm. His head lolled toward Anathema before his body suddenly stiffened—back arching, hands clenching into fists, a choked cry. His body began to shake violently. 

“Oh, my god!” Anathema cried out, pulling her arms away, second-guessing, then returning her hands to his shaking body. 

“Turn him on his side,” said Dawn, lifting one side of the man’s body and turning him toward the witch. “It shouldn’t last more than a few minutes.” Newt continued to shake, Anathema gently stroking his upper arm, Dawn looking at her watch. After about two minutes (by Dawn’s count,) the tremors ceased, and he once again went limp. 

“Oh, Newt,” said Anathema, softly. 

“We should be safe to put him on his back again. He’ll probably be really disoriented when he wakes up, though,” Dawn made eye contact with her. “Just a fair warning.” 

The two women sat silently there for a moment, a heavy feeling of worry coming over the room, both of them lost in thought. Newt suddenly took a breath, gasping, moaning. His eyes slid halfway open, neck tensing again. 

“Hey, sweetie,” Anathema’s hand moved to his cheek. “You okay?” 

He moaned again, pushing his face into her palm, eyes squeezing shut once again before relaxing. 

Dawn suddenly noticed an odd feeling pooling in her stomach, realizing she was tensing her jaw. Her gift of discernment was sometimes almost like a sixth sense in times like this, her unconscious mind tipping off her thought process that something wasn’t right. 

“Newt, let me see your eyes,” she pulled a pen light out of her pocket. He turned his head toward the sound of her voice, almost as if he was moving in slow motion. His eyelids twitched, too little energy left to even open a fraction, and he let out a small “Mh” sound. 

“Shh, it’s okay,” she said, voice measured and calming. Anathema’s hand moved to rub the back of his head. Dawn reached out to pull up on one eyelid, flashing the small light into the blown-out pupil, which didn’t budge in response. She let out a curse, and moved to the other eye, which reacted in the same way—which is to say, not at all. 

“Shit, Ana, he needs to get to the ER like, now,” Dawn said, sitting back. “No pupillary light reflex. Something’s going on with his brain.” 

Anathema stiffened, eyes darting around Newt’s now unresponsive body in the bed. “How are we going to get him in the car? There’s no way he could get down the stairs.” 

“Call 999, it’s faster,” Dawn pulled the covers off of Newt’s legs. His pajama pants were soaked through with sweat. “Tell them he had a seizure, and had a head ache yesterday, and now he’s not responding,” she said, as the witch pulled out her cell phone. She stood up, beginning to pace around the room, frantically speaking to the emergency services operator. 

Far off, a siren started, ambulance tyres peeling out of a parking lot. The nurse held the hand of the unconscious man, rubbing comfortingly up and down his arm, as the witch collected some of her things in a large tote bag, still holding the cell phone to her ear. 

“Do you want me to come?” Dawn whispered. 

“Yes,” Anathema let out all the breath in her lungs at once, anxious. “Yes, please come along. I wouldn’t know what to do otherwise.” Just then, they heard a knock at the door. “I’ll get it,” Dawn said, jumping up from the bed. “You stay here with him.” 

—

The double doors in A&E burst open with a flurry of activity. A gurney, surrounded by several nurses and a doctor, followed by two women—one tall, tears pricking at her eyes, one short, jaw set, determined, in her element. 

“What have we got?” 

“Temp 40.5 and rising, Doctor,” 

“Let’s get him on ice. Paramedics place that IV?” 

“Yes, sir. They suspect meningitis,”

“Any neuro symptoms?” 

“Patient suffered a seizure at home, and another during the ambulance ride. Pupils are nonreactive.” 

“Alright. Let’s get a cranial CT, start IV antibiotics and corticosteroids, and get a lumbar puncture ordered pending CT results.” 

“Yes, Doctor,” one of the nurses split off of the still-moving mass of people, toward a desk. Another nurse joined up in her place, laying blue gel packs around Newt’s motionless body.

“Oh, Dawn, I thought you were off today,” said the doctor, looking up at the two women closely following the man in the gurney.

“I am. This is a friend,” she said, confidently. “And you forgot to order labs, sir,” 

“Of course,” the doctor gestured to one of the other nurses, who rushed over to join the other woman at the desk.

“Let’s go straight to ICU, no wasting time.” One of the nurses pushed open a door to an empty room, rushing inside. 

“You still with us, Newt?” 

Newt groaned behind his oxygen mask, half-lidded blue eyes glassy and unseeing. One of the nurses pulled away the gel packs with the blanket, opening a paper envelope with a loud crinkling sound and applying leads to his body. 

“We’re gonna transfer you to a bed, mate, so stay still for a minute for us,” a male nurse remarked as they picked Newt up, lying him gently on the bed, pulling a pair of socks onto his feet and half-covering him with a blanket, in one swift and well-practiced motion. Anathema sat down in a seat near the bed, putting her head in her hands. Most of the nurses left the room, the two remaining finished up placing the leads on Newt’s body and beginning their usual checks, the noise in the room mostly quieting except for the beeps of machines being set up and the two pairs of women speaking softly to each other. 

“You okay?” Dawn placed a hand on Anathema’s shoulder. “He’s in good hands, I’m sure he’ll be fine.” 

“I know,” Anathema’s voice cracked with emotion. “I just can’t help but wonder…if I had read what Agnes sent, would I have been able to…” 

“To prevent this?” Ana nodded, wiping her eyes. “Well,” Dawn said with an exhale. “There’s no way of knowing now, and no sense getting wound up over it all. What’s best is for us to be strong. For him,” she said, leaning down to eye level with the seated woman. 

“I guess you’re right,” she said, sniffling. 

“Knowing what you told me, she probably predicted you would burn them.” 

Anathema chuckled. “That may be true.” She sighed. “It’s just that… he trusted me. When I decided to burn them. We’d barely known each other a day, and he trusted my judgment. Now I just feel like maybe he shouldn’t have blindly gone along with the crazy witch lady.” 

“Didn’t the ‘crazy witch lady’ kinda save his life?” Dawn gave her a half smile. “Oh, I don’t know. The crazy witch lady and the nerdy guy sort of helped save the world and all. No big deal.” 

Anathema smiled. 

“Look, I’m just saying. He trusted you then, and now? He trusted your judgment to let me come take a look, and here we are,” Dawn stood to full height, crossing her arms, watching the nurses do their work. “If you hadn’t asked me to come by, I don’t know what would have happened.” Anathema nodded. 

“Thank you, by the way.” 

“Hm?” Dawn turned her head to look at her friend.

“For coming to help, I mean.”

“Oh, no problem. It’s sort of my thing.” 

The two women were silent for a moment, listening to the nurses. 

“What was the temp?” said the nurse at the computer.

“I got 40.8,” said the other woman. “Oh, and put down GCS 9. E3 V2 M4 at 13:52,” 

“Got it.” She leaned over to another machine. “Sats look good,” 

“Yep,” the other nurse fiddled with the IV bag. “Heart rate’s a little high, though, about 103.” 

“Do you ladies need anything? Water, an extra chair?” 

“An extra chair would be great,” Dawn remarked. 

“Not a problem. We’ll be right back with that, and we should be getting our tests set up shortly,” 

“Sounds good.” 

The nurses left, the three neighbors now alone in the hospital room.  

They sat there all through the rest of visiting hours, watching Newt be pricked and poked and carted around to various tests. He had awoken a few times, never lucid, always exhausted. They had at least gotten a confirming diagnosis, bacterial meningitis, and were reassured that the man should recover after a few days in hospital, although the fever had not come close to breaking. The attending physician had also prescribed some preemptive antibiotics for Anathema, who was eventually persuaded by Dawn to take them, alongside some old home remedies, of course. 

Dawn had left at the end of visiting time, going home to prepare for a day of work ahead. “I’ll try to see if I can’t get in here tomorrow,” she said, before leaving. “The attending is a buddy of mine, so I bet I can weasel my way in. And,” she laid her hand on Anathema’s shoulder, “try to get some rest.” 

“I’ll do my best.” The witch smiled. 

“See you tomorrow,” said Dawn, flippantly raising a hand as she walked out the door. 

[boogiewrites]

Choking On Sapphires 42

Title & Song: Dreams

Characters: Alfie Solomons x Genevieve (OFC)

Word Count:  5400+

Summary: Genevieve has another dream and realizes her feelings for Alfie and sees trouble on the horizon. She seeks out advice from the person she trusts the most. She receives bad news, but makes the best of it.

Warnings/Tags: Language. Angst. Fluff. Explicit Sexual Content. 

**Chapter song is Dreams by The Cranberries.**

Positive feedback is MUCH appreciated! Reblogs, likes, asks and comments feed me to write more! Let me know if you’d like tagged in my work.

My Masterlist. (Includes Parts 1-41)

You awake to the warm hands of Alfie on your clammy, sweat covered skin. He'd slept in your bed again after the usual Friday night of habit of sleeping together, which you welcomed now. And after waking up from a dream like the one you just had, you found yourself especially thankful he was there.

"Shhh, luv, it's just a dream innit?" you hear his voice soft and deep as his hand pushes back your hair, an open palm on your stomach, as your chest started to ease in it's heaving. But it wasn't always "just" dreams with you, was it? He forgets it was your dreams like this that are the reason he's still alive. Although this one was far easier to interpret than the previous ones you'd had about him.

You were standing on a beach. It was cold and you could feel the salty sea wind biting at your bare skin, feeling vulnerable and raw. You see your mother, your brothers, and sisters by the water together.  Your heart leaps at the sight, as you hadn't seen them in so long and you start to move forward. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Alfie walking beside you, it was a lovely scene. You were excited to have him meet your family, you felt warmer as soon as you noticed him. But then appeared your father. He was like a great wall, a force that pummeled icy air upon you, separating you from your family. You want to scream and yell and attack, but you can't. He's in your face, teeth gnashing and spit hitting your skin. You feel small, frightened just like you had when you left home and you start to cry. He hits you across your face, followed by shoves and grabbing your hair and shoving you to the ground. Just like he had the night you left home. He shakes you and hits you against the wall he'd created with his appearance, separating you from Alfie. You look to the confused man and try to run towards him, the only thing besides your father with his hand around your throat that you can see, your head being knocked back against a hard surface. You call out for him and reach and fight and grasp at nothing but he's just out of reach. Your father turns, seeing that he's there and starts to pull you away by the waist. You can't get out of his grasp. Your fathers screaming at Alfie, throwing threats and telling him how you aren't worth the trouble, you're just a broken little girl who lives under his rule and he can't be with you. His insults then turn to Alfie himself and you fight back. You fight with all you have, but he keeps pulling you away from him. You think you might have hurt him enough to free yourself, feeling your body falling, and that's when Alfie's presence in real life snaps you out of the dream.

So you're gasping on your back, wide-eyed, face wet with sweat and tears. You hold your hands up to see them, they're shaking and Alfie takes them in his.

"C'mere, sweetheart," he whispers, pulling you into his chest, wrapping his arms around you as you come down from the trembling mess of a girl the dream had turned you into. He shushes you, face buried in your hair at the top of your head. You put your hands on his chest and feel his warmth, his heartbeat and you try not to cry. You're angry at yourself for the dream, for letting your father have this effect on you and your life. "I've got you, Gen, hush now, luv, nothin' gonna get ya while ya, while I'm here, is it?" he says in a warm, smooth voice that washes over you like a heavy blanket. You found yourself believing his comforting words. You move your arms around him, pressing your face against his chest, fingertips gripping into his back as you hold onto him like an anchor to reality. He continues shushing and cooing at you, kissing the top of your head as you settle, and eventually, you do. He asks no questions and demands nothing, just strokes your hair and bare skin lovingly until the both of you fall back asleep. ---------------- Alfie had gone out to the city, only after you gave him the go-ahead to do so after the state you'd woken up in. He said if you were too shaken he'd be happy to stay, it was only a few things that he had to do that'd help the workload of the next week move smoother.

His willingness to stay if you needed him and his reaction to the vulnerability you'd unwillingly shown make your chest ache. But not in the sorrowful way that you were used to. You watch his car leave down the drive, chewing your thumbnail in thought. This had gone beyond your original intention, hadn't it?

"Fuck." you swear out loud to only yourself in your bedroom, shaking your head. "You silly, silly girl. What have you done?"

You sit in the comfiest chair in your room by the fire, the autumn air starting to chill you even in the daytime. You pull your thick dressing gown around you and settle in, placing a phone call. There had only ever been one man previously in your life that you'd always trusted and you knew loved you and would never do you any harm. That was your uncle Altar. And seeing as you've found yourself in dire need of good advice, you call your favorite man in the world, the only man that had ever been a father to you.

"Surely the operator is lying, no way my little Lily is calling me out of nowhere?" you can picture his big grin under his beard, brown eyes so similar to yours shining with amusement as he spoke.

"She was not lying it's me." you say softly.

"Oh my favorite niece, it is a beautiful sound to hear you speak again my dear." he coos.

"And the most comforting to hear yours, uncle." you reply in earnest.

"What do I owe this pleasure my sweet princess?" he asks, getting to the point, just like he always had.

"I hate to admit that what I'm calling for is both, for you, seemingly good and bad news."

"Oh, Genevieve, my darling, what's happened? Are you alright?"

"That's debatable." you say with a bit of humor to your voice and you hear his warm laughter that makes you smile.

"Out with it, c'mon, who knows how long I've got on this earth, tell me before it's too late." he jokes.

"I find myself in need of some advice."

"And you've come to me? Oh, bless you, child, I'll talk the ears off your head, please go on."

"You're not going to believe this...I hardly believe it myself." you sigh.

"When it comes to you absolutely nothing could surprise me." he teases, it makes you smile. You missed him so.

"I've met someone."

"And I stand corrected." his voice goes higher pitched in surprise.

"And it's a man."

"Well fuck me, Lilly you've gone and got me all excited. Who is this demi-God, for he must be to have captured a demon's attention like yourself." his voice holds nothing but affection for you.

"I'm afraid it's more than a bit complicated. I'm not sure how to move forward, or if I even should...with my feelings for him I mean."

"If it's love how can it be that complicated?" he says supportively.

"I am very fond of the man but don't get ahead of yourself." you chuckle.

"No such words have been spoken. We're not even a couple really. I started sleeping with him out of convenience as he was a handsome friend and my idiot self has gone and started to go all doe-eyed and crave him romanticly and not just physically." your voice is grumpy now.

"Better to be friends first anyway. Don't be like me and jump into marriages over a great pair of tits and some tricks in the bedroom." you both laugh.

"I did learn that lesson from you." you chuckle, "Too bad you can't learn it yourself." you joke. "Although his tits and tricks are rather nice." you giggle.

"Oh don't try to change the subject dear, please, tell me who this man is so I may give this advice you seek."

You take a deep breath. "His name is Alfie Solomons. He's the leader of the Jewish Gangs in London." you feel your heart beat in the pause that follows.

"Fuck me girl, that is complicated isn't it?" his voice is still light. "Don't get me wrong, I'm elated at the news myself. You know I have no issue with that."

"I know you don't."

"In fact I prefer it." he chuckles. "A tough man that can provide and protect you." you can practically feel his chest puff up with pride over the phone. "Not that you require that darling."

"I know."

"So you have gone and gotten into the underbelly of London I see." his voice more judgey this time.

"I have." your voice flat.

"You said you weren't."  his voice is still full of tease, he knew you too well.

"I know." you admit sheepishly.

"I knew you would, my child it is in your blood." he says proudly.

"Don't tell mum, please." your voice pleading slightly.

"I wouldn't! Wait, bought the crime or the man?" he laughs.

"Fucking both." he laughs again and you smile with it this time. You let out a heavy sigh into the receiver. He breaks the silence.

"Does your father know?" he asks, voice more serious.

"I've not been contacted but I've heard rumors he has. He wouldn't know of my feelings for the man, just the working together." you softly explain.

"Well that's a bit of good luck." he offers.

"If that's what you want to call it." you roll your eyes.

"Are you worried about him?" his tone more concerned.

"I'm afraid I was conditioned to be." you weakly admit.

"You've gotten rid of a lot of the things you were conditioned to be, dear." he says supportively.

"He's the hardest to shake yet." The dream come back into your mind and you feel the sting of tears. "What if he comes for me? Or what if he comes for Alfie? What if he tries to take away everything?" he can hear the choking in your throat from holding back tears.

"You've not been on his money for years, my sweet." trying to build up your confidence.

"I know but what if he tries. I've worked so hard." you rasp out, hand covering your mouth, eyes shutting as you begin to cry.

"I know that better than most anyone, love." his voice is so sweet and caring, exactly what you'd needed and hoped to hear. "Is this Solomons worth the risk?" his voice prys, and you let it.

You pause, sighing and looking into the fire as you wipe away a stray tear. "I don't know." he hears you sniffle and realizes this is quite serious for you. But otherwise, you wouldn't have called him about it if it hadn't been. "I've just..." you take a shaky inhale. "I've never met a man who would be and here I am...risking punishment from my bastard father over one who could be. Exactly where I said I'd never be. Afraid of my father and afraid of my feelings and-" he can tell you're getting worked up and cuts you off.

"Hiding." he interrupts, his voice sterner, but he knew that's what you needed.

He hears your sob despite how you move your face away from the phone.

"I've always told you, you can do anything, my little Lilly. I have always believed that. As soon as I held you in my arms, I knew you were different. I don't mean to come at you so hard dear, you know I hate to upset you... but don't you see the root of all that trouble?" his voice is more desperate, wishing he could hold his darling niece in his arms and comfort her like he used to.

"Me?" you say weakly, it hurts him deep in his soul that that was the answer you gave.

"No! No, no, absolutely not, cheri. Try again." his voice kind and warm again.

Alfie certainly wasn't the problem, just the side effect. So was it men? Were you truly weak to men? Also no. Then your father. "Father." you whisper out.

"You have always been smart my child. You do not need him to approve of you."

"I know that."

"Do you? Because you're still denying what you are and when you came to me that summer after you left home...."

"I remember."

"You said you'd never let another man tell you what you could or couldn't be. And what does he still do?"

Your anger surpasses your sadness with his words. He was right, but of course, he was.

"He did it to your mother. He's done it to your brothers and sisters. You are not like them. You know where your soul lies. You didn't have it trained out of you, domesticated like some beast. That's not you, is it Lilly?" he asks, voice harsh.

"No." your voice matches his and he is so pleased to hear the fire burning in you again.

"Then what do you have to do?" his tone is slightly condescending but warranted.

"Not hide anymore." the fire in the fireplace reflects in your eyes, burning down into your chest and possibly down into your very soul.

"That's my girl." he cheers. ------- You're in your office, chewing your lip at the ledger for Abeille. You hear a knock on the door.

"Come in." you say passively.

Claire says, holding one single letter in her hands. You can tell by her body language that something's wrong. "This came for you." she say softly, laying the letter in front of you on the desk. You shut the book and move your face to see what she's sat down.

"Fuck." you rasp out, hesitantly picking it up and rising from your chair. "I suppose this was inevitable." you say weakly, a groan to your voice as you move around your desk to the fireplace to get a good look at it. It was from the address of your father's office.

"I've been on edge waiting for it honestly. Or a phone call or God forbid he show up here." she shudders at the thoughts.

"I've been worried as well." you let out a heavy sigh. "Let's see what threats the jellyfish bastard has for me then." you roll your eyes and open the envelope. "From the secretary-" you scoff loudly. "Not even signed from him." you shake your head."Couldn't be arsed to write a letter to his daughter...fucks' sake." you clear your throat. " From the secretary of George Greene III..." you scan over the letter. "Your father has asked me to write to you to express his distaste for the news of you working with the Jewish gangs that he's received from London. He would like to remind you of the family's agreement and orders that you cut off your ties with them. In his mercy, he is willing to forgive this oversight in your judgment. If you do not cease and follow his demands, he will be forced to take further action against you." You swing your head to Claire, a deeply annoyed look on your face.

"Sounds about right." she says with a stiff face and angry eyes.

"I don't know about you Claire...but I'm about fucking tired of his bullshit." you say with vigor.

Claire smirks, happy to see some fire in your eyes. She hated your father almost as much as you did. "You know I prefer to not live in anyone's shadow. Especially those I do not respect." she gives a single controlled head nod.

"I fucking hate him." you say with absolute certainty.  You roll your eyes and let out a heavy sigh, "I spoke with Altar..." you begin.

Claire grins, she loved your Uncle. "This should be good." she smirks.

"Oh it is!" you give her a bright smile. "After giving me a much needed talking to about who I am now, and where I've come from. How I don't live on his money and I rule without hate, unlike him, I believe it might be time to give 'ol daddy the big, fuck you that I've longed to my entire life."

"Oh." her eyes wide, not expecting this."Really? And he supports this?"

"You know he hates him more than anyone." you speak with passion. "Perhaps it's time to expose George for what he really is." your eyes narrow. You give a single strong nod, balling up the letter and throwing it into the fire.

"Never thought I'd see the day but I can't tell you how equally happy and fearful I am." she offers with an unsure smile.

"Me too Claire." you move to her and place your hand on her shoulder.

"But isn't it time we got out of that monsters shadow? He doesn't deserve the sunlight on his skin, we deserve it on ours instead." you speak with certainty, back straight and eyes bright.

"I"m with you no matter what Genevieve." she puts her hand on top of yours.

"And to celebrate a small victory, to indulge in a bit of childish rebellion, I'm going to go and fuck the leader of the Jewish gangs in London." you say with a warm laugh.

"I can't even argue with it at this point." she grins. "The man's growing on me, I'll admit."

"He's growing on me as well." you say with a coy smile, a mischieveous smile on your face as you both look at each other.

"Don't think I haven't noticed." she says with a tilt of her head.

"Can't hide anything from you, can I Claire bear?" you lilt out, looking at her over your shoulder before crossing into the hallway.

"I know you better than you know yourself, Genevieve. Go have your fun." she smiles and waves her hand for you to go on.

She never thought letting Alfie into the house would end well. She never thought that he would bring on what she'd always wanted for you. Peace of mind. She knew that cutting the cord to your father, letting go of that hate for him and the hate he'd put of yourself into you, that even if it all crashed and burned that the weight off yours, hers and Aggie's hearts might just be worth the trouble. ----- "Alfie!" you lilt out, a devilish smile on your lips, and an exaggerated sway to your hips as you enter the study to find him seated on the couch.

"What is it Genny?" his eyes raise from the papers in his hands, head still facing downward.

"You've been working all day and night, darling." you say with a pout that makes his eyes narrow.

"That's because I got a lot to fuckin' do, luv." his faces raises, a small smirk on his face.

You stand over him, one hand in your hair, twisting a curl around your finger, the other reaching out to run through his hair.  "Why don't you take a break, handsome?"

The touch is welcome but he hesitates, he really did have a lot to do. "Eh..." his mouth opens in a gruff stutter, shoulder shrugging slightly. "Didn't want to lose me focus."

You sit next to him, one leg bent up on the seat, torso facing him. "You're stressed, sweetheart."

"Of fuckin' course I am I got all these fuckin' leeches tryin' to bleed me fuckin' dry 'n that's not even the worst of it, I-" he begins, he sees your eyes narrow at him from under your thick lashes and he knows to stop his complaints. "Right." he groans out, eyes narrowing back at you mouth hanging open for a moment. He huffs noisily out of his nostrils and sets the papers down on the table in front of him. "Get that fuckin' look off ya face." he says as if he's angry with you, but you know it to be false. The sly smile you give him makes him more certain of the decision not to run you off. "'Ello luv." he says, resting a hand on your knee. "How are you this evenin'." his lips pout at the delivery of the words, his body and attention now on you.

"Wet, Alfie." your eyes grow dark, your teeth grazing over your plush bottom lip as you say his name.

A low groan comes from his throat, eyes now looking you up and down.

"I wanted to help you clear your mind..." you say sweetly but it's entirely a front as your fingers walk their way up this thigh. "And your balls." your eyes swing up to his, your tongue peaks out your grinning lips at him.

"I wunnit lyin' 'bout bein' busy." he says, almost as a warning, chin pushing into his chest.

"Then I'll just have to be quick about it, won't I?" you whisper against his lips. You ignore his tone and move to push his back against the sofa with your hands on his shoulders. You continue speaking as you lower yourself to your knees in front of him, between his legs. "I find myself craving you very specifically and strongly tonight, Solomons." you say as your fingers work to undo his belt and buttons to get to the twitching length of him. "And I'm not going to take no for an answer when I really....really want something... am I?" you quirk a brow up at him, a wicked smile on your recently licked lips.

"No you are not, pet." he groans out, his hands resting at his sides, just soaking up the attention and the need he saw in your eyes.

You take him out of his pants, not all the way hard yet and you purr at the opportunity. You take him into your mouth with no verbal response back as you hear the hiss escape his lips. You press your nose into his stomach, tongue swirling and lips sucking away at him, feeling him grow hard in your mouth. One of your favorite things, and something you rarely got to indulge in with him. You moan around him, you feel a groan grow as you run one of your hands up under his shirt to drag down his broad chest, the other around his back to firmly grasp at his bum.

Once he's back to his usual diamond level hardness, you slide him out of your mouth, saliva still connecting your lips to his tip as you pull away, wrapping a hand around him to work him as you spoke. "Feeling you get hard in my mouth like that gets me so wet, Fie." your eyes burn into his, tongue out of your mouth and lapping at him in an exaggerated way, cycling from licks to indulgent sucks of his now red tip.

His sexy half smile, a huff of laugh that moves his chest at your words makes you moan around his head again. "You like 'at do ya?" his confident and cocky tone back to where you desired it.

"I love it." you say, your mouth never leaving his cock.

"Fuck Gen." he rasps out as you work him with your hand and your mouth simultaneously. "If it's a ride you're wantin' you better hurry the fuck up before the train leaves the fuckin' station." he laughs, hand moving to hold back your hair.

You give him a  big charming smile as you let him pop out of your mouth. "Wouldn't want to miss that now would I?" you whisper against his lips, leaning over him, quickly removing your silk underwear, hitching up your skirt and straddling his legs.

His hands grab at your thighs, smacking their sides at the sight of your stocking and garters, pinching the soft flesh just so in the most appealing way. HIs nostrils and brow twitch watching you reach down to rub yourself for a few breaths time, his hands now firm on your arse and kneading away. You lean forward to kiss him, a firm slap to your arse in response as your tongues mingle among your crashing lips. You raise up your hips, and being the gentleman he is, he holds himself so you can lower onto him. You rise up away from his face, hand yanking down the neckline of your dress, exposing your breasts and his hands move quickly towards your heaving chest, and just like a baker he gets his strong, ringed hands kneading on you again.

"Oh, fuck Alfie." you whimper as you take him into you completely, now resting hip to hip against him. You waste no time as promised, running your hands up his chest. Your back arched to kiss him as you rest one hand on the back of the couch, gripping the hard wooden trim for support, the other, sliding up his neck, fingers nesting in his beard as you feverishly kiss him.

You move slowly at first, drinking in his moans as a hand moves under your skirt to hold you by the hip, guiding you along. You set a steady pace, the heavy thud against him gives the pressure you crave, feeling the pleasure building now, you break the kiss and rise up, placing your hands on his shoulders, moving up and down at a steadily increasing rate, your breathing matched in passionate panting as you look into each other's eyes. The first moan from you breaks the eye contact, your head falling back as you move to grind back and forth against him.

"Ah, that's it now, luv." he groans out, one hand still on your hip tightly encouraging the movement from you as he knew it'd bring you closer sooner, watching your hips drag and swivel, he licks his lips at the feeling, eyes fluttering shut for a moment. You take his other hand, placing it on your hips as well, drawing his attention back to your undulating body on top of his.

"Hold me tighter," you command with a gentle nod of your chin. He obeys and his white-knuckled fingers squeeze, pushing you down harder onto him as you whimper out with growing need. "That's it, good boy." your eyes shut but the wicked smile remains. "You feel too fucking good I'm getting close." he knows this position can finish you off quickly but your slower paced approach surprises him once again. "Keep hold of me." you whisper, leaning up, hands on the back of the couch as you rise and fall with a pounding force on him, still slow, steady steps to get to your destination together. Your chest now directly in his face, your tits knock about on his cheeks and he snakes his head around to suck one nipple into his mouth, causing your mouth to drop open and your chest to bounce as you let out a small, helpless sound gasp. He moans as the pace grows quicker, both hands still held onto your hips, slamming himself up into you as you crashed down against him, a moan knocked out of you each time with your deep breaths.

His lapping tongue is distracting, panting and roaming against the hard nub, taking it between his teeth and nibbling with taunting pressure the louder your sounds together became. You can feel the throbbing grow more intense, him moving inside you just so with the direction of your swiveling hips, "How do feel so fucking good inside me, Alfie?" you whine, your whole back now twisting as you gave over to the feeling.

"It's these fucking serpentine hips of yours you wicked thing." he huffs out, hand reaching up to pull your lips to his, he needed you. He needed your breath mingling with his as he bites and sucked away at your mouth that cried out for him. His other hand disobeys orders, reach up to grasp your breast tightly, thumb and index fingers pinching and rolling your nipple. He plants his feet firmly on he ground and bucks up into you hard, making you loudly cry out his name. He responds with a growl. "Fuckin'g take it Gen. You know how much I love making you come all over this cock." he huffs out in an intoxicatingly dominate voice.

"Oui." you whine out against his lips, resting your bobbing forehead against his when you had to catch your breath. Your eyes are tightly shut. "Fuck." your chest stutters as you let out the prolonged cry for him. His teeth hold your bottom lip with a pinch. "You're going to make this little cunt come for you, Alfie." moan out helplessly, your body being pumped into fiercely underneath with the full power of hips. You couldn't have stopped yourself if you'd wanted to. Your ears ring and your hands tremble against his shoulders, a high pitched, sharp gasp of breath is the only sound that leaves you as you give him what he asked for with open, trembling lips.

Once the tremors have mostly passed, you can open your eyes, another sharp gasp of breath against him. His teeth now gnashed together, his jaw tight, heavy, masculine grunts and growls fill the space between your bodies as his hands move to your hips to hold you and fuck up into you to finish himself off. You tighten yourself around him, your head swinging to the side, mouth and tongue moving fast against his neck and up to his ears and back again, moaning into his thick beard and pouring dirtyy words into his ear to finish him off. "Come for me, 'Fie. I want you to fill up this little cunny you magnificent beast. I'm absolutely soaked from that thick cock of yours. Make it even wetter for me, would you? Make a fucking mess of me, darling."  you hiss and rasp into his ear, your tongue working its' way into its grooves and panting as you wrap your arms around his neck to hold him close. He lets out a loud and guttural moan, a hand slapping your arse hard. "That's it," you say in a condescending tone, your hips pounding back into his. "This tight little cunt's going to make this cock mine, do you understand?" you growl, hand tugging at the hair at the back of his neck. "You're going to fucking come because it's what I want. And you'll give me anything I want won't you Solomons?" your voice is dark and directly antagonizing and his eyes roll back in his head. Fuck he loved your filthy mouth.

"Fuck!" he growls, eyes meeting yours as your lick the sweat from the side of his face. "Anything." he helplessly moans out into your smirking mouth.

"Then fucking come for me, Alfie." you growl, biting down onto his thick bottom lip. You know the strangled sound that squeaks out of his throat, how his fingers press into you, nails breaking the skin that he's giving you what you want in that moment. Holding himself inside you, before finishing off with a final few hard thrusts to finish the job.

As his soul falls back into his body, his eyes focus, hand moving to the back of your head, pushing you against his mouth, a deep and passionate kiss builds, despite your hips powering down. As you move to a slow and wet pace, lips smacking together, broken with smiles and happy hums between the two of you, you lean to kiss the tip of his nose.

"That's a good boy now, hmm?" your smile isn't condescending like the words would suggest. Your fingers wipe the sweat from his forehead gently, smoothing his hair back and gazing down at him.

The look in your eyes doesn't go missed by him, in combination with the warm smile and the soft tone you praised him with, he basks in the heavenly sight of you looking down on him adoringly. That's what it was, wasn't it? A sparkle that hadn't been there the last time he looked. What had he done to deserve a woman like you looking at him like that? He didn't know, but he didn't want you to look at him any other way again.

Pt 43 Daddy Issues

@fangirlfreakingout @jaegeeeeer @cosettewinchester @lookuptheskyisfalling-blog @brianaisasongbird @cry5t4l-w4rri0r @iliveonchocolateandnetflix @jess2464 @hardygal69 @thegarrisonpublichouse @a-flock-of-angry-pigeons @pootle @negansdirtygirl22 @musingsby-night @wtf-is-wrong-with-this @shine-dont-shadow @inkinterrupted @vale0413 @lafayettes-baguettes-1 @sxlomons @aphnxrising @emerald-bijou 

[scarletraven1001]

Greenish

05 - “Wait a minute. Are you jealous?”

A post-Buu saga Vegebul one-shot for prompt #5 on this post, requested by @heeyyy-macarena and @venitia89. 

I hope you all like it!

Also on Ao3.

All Fics in this Series:  1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8 / 9

8-8-8-8-8

Greenish

8-8-8-8-8

Chichi was surprisingly interesting.

Vegeta supposed, that he could now understand what Kakarot had seen in the very simple and rather excitable female.

He had never really spoken to her before. He never made it a habit to speak to women, never mind women that belonged to his rivals.

However, Gohan, the little smartass, had told him that on Earth, it was customary to be on somewhat friendly terms with their significant other’s friends, and from what he could see, Chichi was Bulma’s most usual companion.

He had been discretely trying to be a more accommodating husband ever since the Buu fiasco, and he supposed that the rather intelligent son of Kakarot may have been on to something.

Thus, when the dark-haired housewife had sat down on a chair near him while they were in Capsule Corp for a backyard picnic, he cleared his throat, and stupidly floundered around for something to say.

To say that Chichi had been shocked, would have been an understatement.

He smelled her surprise that bordered on distress, and he had almost abandoned his attempt to be sociable when she smiled and said something back.

It was not long before he realized that Gohan’s brain may have been passed down from this lady, since it clearly was not from Kakarot.

She had home-schooled her son and somehow turned him into a boy who was at the top of his class. He had to applaud her for that.

She was smart, rather amusing, and had an acceptable knowledge of fighting techniques.

Also, she had once pushed Kakarot off a floating cloud. That was hilarious.

“… and so, I told Goku-sa that unless he cleaned up the whole place, he was not getting any dinner. And I tell ya, I have never seen the house so spotless before!” Chichi laughed.

Vegeta smirked. “Good. Let him earn his keep. I, personally, work for Bulma as a Product Tester, as she calls it.”

Chichi blinked. “Really? I had no idea, Vegeta-san.”

“It is not common knowledge,” he answered. “And it is not a difficult job. All I need to do is try to break things or stay standing after missile blasts. I find it rather enjoyable.”

The dark-haired woman sighed. “I wish I could get Goku-sa to keep a stable job.”

“Perhaps you could find something that is closer to his natural skills,” he said. “Something that is related to fighting.”

“Or eating!”

Vegeta threw his head back, releasing a throaty laugh. Chichi laughed loudly along with him, hand on her chest as her giggles rose up.

As his laughter subsided, Vegeta looked up, and saw, from somewhere off to the side, that his lovely wife was standing still, watching him with her large blue eyes as he spoke to her friend.

He gave her a smirk.

However, he was rather surprised when she didn’t smile back as she usually did, and only turned away, handing Trunks another slab of barbeque.

Odd.

8-8-8-8-8

It was late in the evening, and all of their guests had already gone home.

For the very first time, Vegeta found that he actually had a pleasant time at an Earth gathering, but at the end of the day, all he truly wanted was to have his wife to himself again.

He had showered, and now he sat up in bed, waiting for Bulma to finish washing up so they could go to sleep.

Or… possibly… go to bed and not sleep.  

She emerged from their bathroom, short blue hair still damp, soft cheeks flushed from the hot water of her bath.

He stared up at her as she moved to their cabinets, and she quickly pulled out some comfy underwear and a pair of her thick, white pajama sets, before she walked to the changing screen to dress up.

His brows furrowed.

Something felt… off.

He couldn’t quite put a finger on what it was, but even though her motions appeared normal, Vegeta had a sneaking suspicion that there was something wrong with Bulma.

He kept a neutral front up as she walked out from behind the screen, and watched as she quietly sat on the bed, fluffing up her pillow and pulling her sheets up before she laid down.

Without a word. With her back facing him.

His brows furrowed further, until he was sure that his thick eyebrows had probably merged into one thick black line at the center of his forehead.

Something was up.

He needed to tread lightly.

“Oi. Bulma,” he called.

She just sighed deeply. “Good night, Vegeta.”

What in the universe was wrong with Bulma?

“Are you alright?” he asked, concern mixing in with his confusion.

“Yes. Go to sleep.”

Now he was worried.

“No. Something is wrong. You are usually much chattier than this before we go to sleep,” he said.

He watched as her shoulders turned rigid, one hand curling into the blanket where it lay upon the side of her hip.

“Well why don’t you fly off and ask Chichi to chat with you?” she hissed.

Vegeta was even more confused now.

“Kakarot’s wife? Why would I want her to…”

Vegeta trailed off, eyes wide in stunned disbelief.

Could it possibly be…?

“Wait a minute,” he muttered, astonishment coloring his every syllable. “Bulma… Are you jealous?”

“No.”

Her single-word answer, and the speed with which she replied, told him otherwise.

“You are!” he accused, eyes narrowing as he smirked in delight. “You are jealous! Do not even try to deny it, woman.”

“I am not-”

“Bulma, I have lived with you for a decade,” he said. “We have a son. Do you honestly think that I do not know you well enough to tell when you are lying?”

She harrumphed, before she pointedly shifted so that her back remained facing him, and her face was nearly buried in her pillow.

Vegeta grinned menacingly.

This was going to be fun.

“Oi. Bulmaaa,” he nagged, darkly delighted at this interesting development. “Admit it, you are jealous of Kakarot’s woman.”

She ignored him.

“Why are you jealous? Come now, was it not you who told me,” he paused, before adopting a higher pitched tone, mimicking her as best as he could. “Vegeta, you can’t ignore everyone all the time. We need to talk, Vegeta! Vegeta, you’re so quiet, you’re such a snob! Vege-”

“Alright!” she yelled, finally rolling over, before she sat up to face him head on. “I got jealous. Happy now?”

“Why? She is Kakarot’s wife,” he asked, genuinely confounded.

Bulma’s cheeks turned red as she met his gaze.

“It’s stupid,” she pouted

Vegeta smirked. “If it was so stupid, it would not bother you so much. Come now, woman, tell me,” he said, as his smirk widened into a full-blown evil grin. “Before your hair adopts that permanently greenish tint.”

Bulma twiddled her thumbs together, a gesture that Vegeta found strangely endearing. “You were talking for an hour. An hour, Vegeta. And you were both laughing so much. And I remembered how long it took me to get you to even smile at me, and to see you so relaxed, so quickly...”

He rolled his eyes. “You do realize that the only reason I even spoke to her was for you, do you not?”

It seemed to be Bulma’s turn to be confused. “Huh?”

“I was told that it was preferable here on Earth for spouses to be on pleasant terms with each other’s acquaintances,” he explained. “I saw that Chichi was one of your closest ones, and so I decided to speak to her. Was I… Was I mistaken, then?”

Bulma’s cheeks suddenly lost their angry red hue at his words. “You… you did it… for me?”

“Of course,” he scoffed. “Have you ever known me to actively seek out conversation? I did it because I did not want you to look bad, as you say when I behave inappropriately.”

“You did something you are uncomfortable with… for me?” she whispered, her eyes now wide and slightly watery, making Vegeta panic.

He raised his hands in a placating manner. “Woman, do not even think of shedding tears at this. I have died for you and Trunks… this was truly nothing.”

“I’m sorry, Vegeta,” Bulma sniffled, reaching out to hold him.

He felt her wrap her arms around his neck as she buried her face onto his chest, and he lifted a hand to place it onto her head, gently stroking her hair.

“I feel terrible. You were just trying to do something for me, and I was being stupid about it. I’m sorry.”

“Forgiven. I understand,” he said softly, before a grin snaked onto his lips again. “After all, if I were a woman who had managed to land a man as irresistible as myself, I would be insecure, as well.”

She pulled back at that, lightly slapping his chest in irritation, making him laugh heartily at the annoyed look on her face.

“Vegeta, I’m serious!” she cried. “I’m sorry.”

He smirked. “You truly need not ever be jealous, Bulma. You are my wife, and the only one I would ever think of sharing intimacy with. Besides, believe me, Chichi is the last woman you should ever be jealous of.”

“Why is that?”

“That woman and I are very much alike. We would likely clash in a horrifying way. We are both fighters, both born into royalty and now have no lands or subjects to speak of. She is an ambitious woman who had given up on many of her dreams as she found her place with her family, as I have forsaken thoughts of universal domination in favor of settling down here on Earth with you and Trunks,” he explained. “And above all… she is Kakarot’s wife.”

Bulma winced. “When you put it that way, I feel even worse for being jealous.”

He sighed. “Woman, if you ever think about feeling jealous once again, remember this…”

She stared intently at him as he held her by the arms, making sure that he had her full attention as he spoke.

“Bulma,” he began. “I would fight the gods themselves for you. You are the only woman I would ever choose to be with. I have eyes for no one else. And I shall never seek to be with anyone else.”

Her lips trembled slightly, before she smiled… a beautiful, bright smile that lit up the room with its vibrancy, making Vegeta realize once again that he truly had, somehow, managed to find the one woman who had been made especially for him.

She was perfect. And he would never, ever forget that.

Bulma leaned forward to wrap him into another hug, her grip tight and secure as she breathed onto the skin of his neck.

“I love you,” she murmured.

“Hn,” he replied as he wrapped his arms around her waist.

He felt her leave a soft kiss on his shoulder, and he grinned as he felt another… and another…

“So, Vegeta…” she murmured against his skin, and he felt her touch change from its earlier warm comfort into a sizzling caress.

Her fingers trailed along his shoulders as she leaned up, and he hissed when he felt her teeth nibble along the shell of his ear.

“How about I show you exactly how sorry I am for today?” she whispered seductively.

Vegeta grinned.

Perhaps, he should speak to Bulma’s friends more often.

8-8-8-8-8

End

[fuyuhikoismybabygansta]

Can I request NDRV3 boys and s/o who is deaf. And s/o is now wearing hearing aids and hears the boys voices for the first time?

I can see how this prompt would get emotional... thanks for requesting. I love writing the happy-ish angst stuff.

-Mod Maki

Saihara Shuuichi✎

As a detective, he’s very quick to learn things.

Therefore, sign language was no problem for him.

He got used to your predicament very quickly.

It really was no problem for him.

Physical affection was the core of your relationship.

Well, the verbal romance was a little hard but…

The thought of flirting through sign language was… very cute, according to Saihara.

He loved seeing your reactions when he did so.

It also gives him confidence that he signed properly.

Then… one day, you tell him you want to change.

You don’t want to live in this condition anymore.

You want to hear the noises of the world.

The birds outside, the soft noises of the wind…

The cars passing by when you walk around…

Most importantly, you want to hear his voice.

He suggested hearing aids.

They were the most immediate and… he didn’t like to admit it but the cheapest way.

He loved you very much but he was unable to provide financially for you in that sense.

The day came eventually.

There was silence for a while between you…

You were amazed.

So these were the sounds of the world…

Amazing.

“S-So, did it work?”

You immediately scream and then flinch.

Oh dear lord what was that annoying noise-

Ah, you just screamed, right.

Saihara is scared.

Poor boy.

You burst into tears.

“S-Say that a-again, please!”

“What do I have to say again?”

You cry harder.

You’re so happy.

It’s HIS voice.

The Saihara Shuuichi that you love… the boy detective.

His voice, for your ears to hear.

You can definitely get used to this.

Amami Rantaro❂

He already knew sign language.

Don’t ask him how, he just picked it up somewhere.

He never really found learning other languages THAT difficult.

Including sign.

He loved the way you always just, reacted, before responding.

You never reacted and spoke at the same time.

Like Shuuichi, it gave him confidence that you were understanding him.

He also completely forgot about the existence of hearing aids until one day.

You visit his parents with him and his mother says something that you can’t hear…

Rantarou is like the interpreter for you and his parents.

His mother has suggested hearing aids.

You tell him that you’ve always been sceptical of hearing aids so you’ve never tried them out.

He DEMANDS that you try them.

His father is going deaf and apparently, they’ve worked wonders for him.

His parents even offer to pay the funds.

You start crying because of their generosity.

And before you know it, you’re putting them in.

You wait a few seconds before turning them on.

“I love you~” Rantarou purrs as if to test them.

You stare at him wide-eyed.

“Hm, I assume they’re working?”

Tears are falling down your face.

“Y-Y-You… voice…” You can’t even form a sentence.

He laughs.

You bury your face into his chest and wail.

How come you’ve been missing out on this?!

His laugh, his… his voice!

You’re so overcome with emotion… you can’t possibly calm down.

It takes a few instances for you to stop crying.

For example, the morning after this all happens, he wakes you up by calling you a sleepyhead.

You start crying again and you can’t stop.

It wasn’t all a dream…

You will never be used to this.

Kiibo✪

He does not understand it.

How can a human be lacking in that sense?

Weren’t humans supposed to… function properly…?

You explained it to him, some people were like… the beta versions of a robot.

Functional but not to as much as we’d like.

He gets it a little bit better but not really.

“Your example was lacking in tact. Those days of mine were very sensitive, constantly being brought to life and then disposed of! That was slightly robophobic of you to say, S/O!”

Well, of course, he signs it.

You can’t tell what tone of voice he’s trying to use but…

Anyway!

He tries to research how he can fix you.

Then, it comes to him…

Hearing aids!

Of course!

He tells you and you smile.

Of course, you’ll try it but…

You have your doubts.

Then you’re amazed.

He talks and you’re amazed that he has such a human-sounding voice?

You wouldn’t say that though.

That’s robophobic!

Kaito Momota✯

You never knew how loud he was.

How were you to know anyway?

It all started with you getting particularly emotional one day.

And him comforting you as usual.

“So, hearing’s your enemy, yeah??” He signed.

You don’t know what he means...

Then he signs something about “You’ll have to wait.”

His sign language is sloppy and broken.

But then... he gives you a gift one day.

Hearing aids...

These must have been expensive.

You put them in eagerly and you get a little carried away.

You turn them up to full volume, thinking that wouldn’t be loud enough.

Then Kaito spoke.

God, his voice was loud enough to make you go deaf again.

But you couldn’t help it.

You were crying.

“No no, don’t cry like that! That’s weakness speaking!”

But then he softens up a little.

Imagine not being able to hear anything at all...

He suddenly feels really deeply for you.

He holds you tighter than he ever has before.

“I love you...”

Gonta Gokuhara✿

He doesn’t get it at all.

Gonta can hear so why can’t S/O?

He’s a little upset that you can’t even hear your own voice.

How would your thoughts sound in your head?

If you couldn’t hear then how would ANYTHING work?

How would you know how loud to talk?

What if you were in a dangerous situation where you had to whisper?

Did you even know how to whisper...?

He had so many questions but he’s a gentleman, so he definitely couldn’t ask.

Then, one day you told him you wanted to fix your hearing.

He asked, wasn’t it something you couldn’t fix?

You tell him your parents are going to pay for hearing aids.

You also have to explain what they ARE.

He’s amazed! Something like that really exists?!

When you try it out, he’s just as excited.

Then, he talks.

You expected his voice to be WAY deeper.

You can’t bring yourself to be emotional, you’re just really surprised!

This is such a pleasant change!

You can hear things now...!

Ouma Kokichi♕

He always scares you.

He knows it’s mean because you can’t hear him coming but...

That’s what makes it so good.

It’s funny when you react accordingly but when you cry he kinda feels bad.

He wouldn’t know how to live without hearing.

It’d be so hard yet he continues to pester you.

He hopes you know it’s all a joke.

Then, one day you get a little fed up.

You could LIVE without hearing but being scared so mercilessly...

It was annoying and you didn’t know when to expect it.

Ever.

So you decided to get hearing aids, but you didn’t tell Ouma.

So one day, he’s creeping up behind you and you turn around as fast as ever.

He’s stunned.

How did you-

How-

He thought you were deaf?

What if you were lying the whole time...?

He couldn’t deal with somebody being a better liar than him.

So he pouted.

“No fair...”

Then he looks at your ears.

You start crying.

“Yeah... I heard you.”

He’s crying too but you doubt it’s real.

Then he stiffens up.

He sniffles.

Okay, it was kinda real.

Don’t tell anyone though.

He’s sad that he can’t scare you anymore but he’s also glad that he’s got an excuse to stop his bad habit.

Korekiyo Shinguuji✞

It was extremely easy for him to learn sign language.

H’s an anthropologist, for goodness sakes.

He could learn everything he needed to as fast as ever.

He was used to having to learn things hastily, as he’s been around many people when studying.

Except, being in a relationship with such a person was difficult.

It was hard to be affectionate without saying anything.

Then, you suggested hearing aids.

To his relief, his feelings towards the whole predicament were mutual.

You had both found it awfully hard. 

When you finally hear his voice, you’re shocked.

He sounds so... elegant.

A lot higher pitched than you had expected but...

He sounded perfect.

It was amazing.

He had expected you to be more emotional than this.

He had the nerve to take off his mask and passionately kiss you.

You could hear his breath as you paused for a break.

You could hear EVERYTHING.

You had to stop yourself from crying.

You kind of did want to hear him say “It’s not good to be emotional.” though.

Like, verbally... not signing.

You were so happy.

Hoshi Ryoma☯

He knew you were unhappy.

He’s an unhappy person himself, he can always tell when others share that same emotion.

He tried to console you as much as he possibly could but he still felt powerless.

In the grand scheme of things, he was small...

Even more so than an average male his age.

He would never admit that, however.

Then, he suggested, just out of the blue, some sort of technology to restore your hearing.

That piece of technology is hearing aids.

You agree, excited as all hell.

The day finally comes.

You’re just about to put them in.

Then, Hoshi has thoughts.

What if you hate him for how he sounds?

That was a possibility he didn’t even start to consider.

He hoped for the best but expected the worst.

You grinned.

“I... I hear things.”

He clears his throat and makes a comment about how good that is.

You get a fright and nearly fall backwards.

“W-Where’s my Hoshi and what did you do with him?!”

You were joking of course.

It took him a second to notice that.

Then you laugh and he’s chuckling with you.

It’s nice to hear his laugh...

You’re shocked to no end though.

He really had that type of voice?

You’ll never truly get over his voice to be quite honest.

Whenever he speaks from that day forward, you’re still reminded of the initial shock.