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creatur3creati0ns · 1 year ago

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The Past 20 Years

I thought this would be the best way to start this blog. I think that’s still what this is called. Clearly I have no idea what I’m doing.

I’ve told my life story before to a lot of people, yet every time I try to sit down to write some of it out, I just don’t know where to start.

Trigger warning for mentions of religious trauma, childhood trauma and abuse, mental illness struggles, mention of self harm and suicidal ideation, alcoholism, eating disorders, fatphobia, homophobia and transphobia.

I was born in Michigan, and when I was around five my parents moved me and my twin (fraternal) sister to Arizona. Around then, my grandfather passed away from lung cancer. Sometime before that, I think, my parents got divorced. I have a very bad memory, a lot of that is attributed to childhood trauma and abuse and lifelong dissociation. I really only remember what my mother has told other people while I’m in the same room.

My father always lived nearby, and eventually he moved back into the house. Separate room than my mother, but because she would leave town for work often, it was easier for him to care for us while she was gone. My dad is retired from General Motors and is an Army veteran. My mother was a commercial bus driver. My sister and I got to go on trips a lot because of it. Everyone from out of the country loved the two twins who were dressed up as cowgirls.

Sometime in third grade, my parents moved us to a rural part of Arizona. Very small and conservative town. We lived on about four acres of land, with neighbors pretty far away. We were about 15 mins from town, from civilization. The church me and my sister were dragged to every Sunday was about forty-five minutes away. It was then that my mother went back to college. After a few years, with homeschooling thrown in there, my sister and I got moved to a bigger town about two hours away.

This is probably when I start remembering my life the most. Now is a good time to mention my stomach problems, because it’s a huge part of my life and after reading this whole thing a few times, I have nowhere else to stick this paragraph in. My mother says I was practically born with these stomach issues, I don’t remember them as a young kid, only when I hit maybe 11 or 12. Without getting into too much detail, something is wrong with my stomach. I would love to be more descriptive, but after literal years of allergy tests and diets and even an endoscopy, no one has any idea what is wrong with it. Every food and drink (even water) upsets it and I have stomach pain nearly constantly. It’s gotten better in the past two years, mainly due to not being in school or around my family, but it’s still pretty awful. On average I spend at least two hours in the bathroom each day because of this, and I have to be careful with consuming anything in public if I don’t have a bathroom near me. Okay, that’s personal enough. It’s a big problem. I’ve had chronic health problems all my life, so just keep that in mind as you read later about the other crazy shit that my body pulls.

A few months into fifth grade we went back to public school, and my mother finished her college degree for social work about a year or two later. We were living in our van for a while, then an RV, then an apartment, and then finally the house where I would spend the rest of my childhood. My dad lived in his own room across the hall.

My dad is diagnosed with bipolar disorder, and has been on medication for it most of my life. He’s also an alcoholic. Three beers before noon, more throughout the day. He never was really drunk unless my mother had friends over. I didn’t like when he was drunk. He got louder. My father had anger issues my whole life. He yelled over anything someone did that upset him, except if it was my mother who did it. She was always the one in charge. Even though they were divorced he was deeply in love with her. He acted more like an adult older brother who still lived at home. He never acted like a father. I have a lot of trauma from his yelling. Dropping a glass or a drink or running into something. Folding a towel the wrong day, not cooking the way he liked. Any time I was in the kitchen he would come in and stand behind me, watching and not saying anything. I’m still working through all that. But I used to watch westerns with him on the couch, his arm around me. We would watch baseball and football, but baseball was my favorite. Or at least, it was his favorite. I got a lot of my music taste from him. Rock and roll on the radio whenever he was driving us somewhere. We bonded over that as I got older. I dyed my hair orange when I turned 18, and he loved it. Orange is his favorite color. When I started getting piercings he loved those too. Asked when I was going to get a tattoo. He had a few old ones from when he was younger, and he loved talking about them almost as much as I loved asking about them. As an outsider, my dad was a pretty cool guy. But he was an awful father.

I was always closer with my mother. I’m having a hard time right now thinking about what to write about her. She has some good qualities, but I’m not at the point in my life where I could name them sincerely. She is suspected to have borderline personality disorder that is untreated and ignored. She had horrific childhood trauma that she would casually talk about over Christmas dinner. It was her dad that passed from lung cancer. She tried her best, that’s what she always told me. But I honestly don’t care. She was a horrible mother, a horrible person.

At thirteen, I was in a car accident. Rear-ended at a stoplight while my dad was driving. My sister and I were in the back seat, and the car was totaled. The guy hit us at about 30 miles per hour. Hit the gas instead of the brake. We went home to eat dinner, and then my dad took us to the ER. Mild whiplash, no scans, no nothing. Told to go home. The next day I had my first ever panic attack.

About a year of panic attacks, self harm, grades dropping, and suicidal ideation, I finally told my mother about it. Primary care physician appointments nearly every week led to a Phoenix Children’s Hospital referral. Psychology, neurology, anyone who might help. After about another year I left with a diagnosis of a traumatic brain injury, social anxiety, and major depressive disorder. I was put onto medication. I switched medications about eight more times. Eventually my mother didn’t let me try anymore. Soon after I started getting chronic migraines and nausea. The nausea went away sometimes, but for over a year I had a migraine constantly. At its lowest it was a 5 on the pain scale. It never went away. When I woke up and when I went to bed it was always there. Even a shot of Toradol in my ass didn’t make a dent.

This is where I’ll talk more about my mother. Most of the issues started after the car accident. Along with my struggles came her ignorance. I would break down in front of her over school, she would stare at me coldly, saying that grades and graduating is important and that she’s trying everything that she can. I would say I was suicidal and self harming, she would cry and say she was an awful mother. I would leave the conversation with me having consoled her, telling her she’s great and I’m going to be okay. Of course, her doing everything in her power consisted of taking me to church programs that were meant to heal me, asking her prayer group to pray for me, telling me to pray and meditate when my chronic migraines were getting so bad I could barely stand, and threatening to take me to the hospital if I kept saying I was suicidal. The one time she took me to the ER, she wouldn’t let them put me into an inpatient program. She took me home to be on suicide watch. She said if I hurt myself during it that she would be arrested. She took me off my antidepressants and told me not to tell my doctors, to lie and say I was still on them. She did everything she could think of, but apparently she never thought of actually listening to what I was asking for.

I had started therapy maybe a month before my car accident, because I had come to accept that I was bisexual and I knew that, according to my mother and my father and my grandmother and my church and the Bible, it was a sin. That therapist stopped answering our calls after my mother told him that a few sessions in.

My mother continued switching me from therapist to therapist, most of them Christian, none of them I had a say in. When I finally found one that I connected with and who was helping me make progress, my mother stopped making me see her. I was realizing that my mother was abusing me, and I was trying to help myself and set boundaries, and according to her, ��I’m your mother, you can’t have any boundaries with me.” So that therapist was out. With all the therapists I had seen, one of the worst was my second one, who was the step-daughter of the first therapist who ghosted me. She liked to quote scripture at me, and say that she wished God would let her love gay people, but unfortunately he didn’t.

The worst therapist I had ever seen, by far, was a woman who specialized in equine therapy. I was never into horses. My mother, though, loved horses dearly, which was of course the only thing that mattered. When talking to her, it was fine. I don’t remember it much. The way she practiced therapy, though, was, in my opinion, unacceptable. Because she recognized that I struggled with placing boundaries (because I was told by my mother that I couldn’t), she decided to try to help me by placing me across the room and speed walking toward me, not stopping until I place my hand out in front of me and say “stop” loud and clear. As you can imagine, this caused issues, because this was her very first solution to this problem, rather than actually talking about it. And refusing to stop until I say “stop” in a way that she likes seems pretty messed up. Each time she did it I was forced closer and closer to a panic attack. She told me her eventual plan was to have herself replaced by a horse, who was walking (maybe even trotting) towards me. This probably would have killed me, because I was honestly afraid of horses at the time. Yes, my mother knew this, no, it did not matter. Any time we interacted with the horses, I was filled with anxiety and fear and every week I dreaded the appointment, and left with more trauma than I came in with. I asked to stop the appointments quickly, but my mother made me go for at least a month. After I left, I was done with therapists for a while.

I struggled through school since the car accident. My sister and I changed schools after starting 9th grade. I almost dropped out a few times, and I don’t think anyone actually expected me to graduate. I sure didn’t. I had to get a 504, which was basically a set of rules my teachers had to legally follow because of my disabilities. My brain injury, and at the time, chronic migraines and nausea. This meant extra time on assignments, no presenting in front of the class, no being called on in class, and being able to leave class at any moment to go to the office if I started having a panic attack. I had to do this often. Some weeks it was every day, and I would be there for hours, missing classes. This caused me to fall behind more. I was admitted to a psychiatric hospital twice during high school, once in December of 2019, and again in April of 2021. I graduated in May of 2021, and walked across the stage high out of my mind on the half pill of gabapentin my mother gave me before the ceremony.

The last therapist I saw as a minor was through my high school. I was very close with the principal and guidance counselor due to my issues. We had to interact daily due to my 504 and me being constantly in the office. The last semester of senior year I took every class via Microsoft Teams while working in the guidance counselor’s office. My anxiety and depression had reached a point where I could not be in a classroom setting and around other people. She mentioned starting a group therapy for students, and when the therapist came to the school I was the only one who had signed up. I saw my chance, and I told him everything. The car accident, the panic attacks, the abuse, the self harm, the suicidal ideation, the fact that I was so sure I wasn’t going to graduate high school but my whole life depended on it and it was all my mother cared about. I had less than an hour and I talked the whole time because I knew this was my only chance. I hadn’t seen a therapist in a while and I was self harming daily, and was very close to a very real suicide attempt. And so he went out to the parking lot where my mother was (that’s a whole other crazy story. For a short time she was parked in front of the office all day to “make sure” I was doing my work and to “be there” if I ended up having a panic attack. My principal was not pleased.) and tried to talk her into letting me become his client. She told him that I had an eating disorder, which at the time, I had no idea she knew about because she never asked or did anything about it. There’s another point off for the Mother of the Decade award there. Long story short, she signed the forms, and he came to the school every week to see me. I joined the group therapy anyway, but the students just ended up unintentionally triggering me and the worksheets given out weren’t helpful if you had been in therapy for around four years already. He helped me get through the last few months of my high school career. He helped me go back to inpatient psychiatric care when things just got worse. When I turned 18 he still kept me as his client, despite being a therapist for adolescents. I stopped seeing him about a month after I moved out, because the company he worked for realized they weren’t getting paid by insurance so we had to end sessions immediately. He wasn’t the best therapist I’ve ever had (my current ones are a lot to live up to), but he quite literally saved my life and got me through the last few months as a minor, and for that I owe him. He was a sick dude and I hope he’s still good.

I turned eighteen five days before I graduated, and the first thing I did as a legal adult was go to the DMV and get my ID. My partner and I had been planning for a few months to move to Phoenix. Them for college, me to get the hell away from my family. I needed an ID for that, along with getting piercings and tattoos, which I knew I wanted to do immediately. My mother hated tattoos, piercings, and dyed hair but always told me that once I turned 18, I could do what I wanted with my appearance, even if I was still living with her. This proved to be a lie, because when I dyed my hair at 18 she got mad I didn’t ask her, and when my sister and I wanted piercings, we had to let her know in advance and promise it wasn’t a septum piercing because we were “still under her roof”. Don’t worry, after I moved I continued to mess up my appearance without letting her know and gave her multiple mini heart attacks over it. And I of course got a septum piercing. It felt good.

August of 2021, the lawsuit against the driver who hit me in 2016 finally came to an end, and I was awarded, quite frankly, a fuck-ton of money. I was eighteen. Safe to say the money lasted a little over a year. Between crazy medical bills and the fact that I was a teenager who just got out of an abusive household and started living with my partner, the money went by quickly. Especially when I wasn’t earning any money. For a year I stayed inside our apartment, had therapy appointments every week, doctor appointments almost every week, many tests and procedures and hospital trips. I started to have chronic hives a month into moving into my apartment, with no apparent cause. Every allergy test came back negative, and no one had any idea what was going on, but I was still spending a lot of money trying to figure it out. It landed me in Urgent Care about three times, due to my face blowing up about three times normal size. I left with a Prednisone prescription and an epipen. After 3 months of hives that never went away and would get worse randomly, my therapist suggested my body was trying to tell me that now was the time to start medically transitioning after waiting for five-ish years. Weirder things have happened, and there was a lot of evidence as to why this might be the case. This is probably something I want to talk about at some point, my relationship to my body and how it communicates with me. And it was communicating pretty clearly. “Testosterone now or I’m going to kill you” was heard loud and clear. I was in a safe place, physically, and, at the time, had money. So one gender therapist appointment and a single phone call later, I started testosterone February 17, 2022. I haven’t had hives since.

I developed an eating disorder in middle school, not long after my car accident. I don’t think those are related, but my mother was plus size all my life and there was not a day that went by that she didn’t speak badly of herself, and that definitely is related. Same for my grandmother. They were on diets constantly. I was put on diets due to my stomach issues, but never for my weight. I was average weight as a kid, and at around 14 I started gaining weight. It wasn’t much, but it was enough for my mother to comment on it. Into the “thinspo” and “ana” pipeline we go. I remained thin for years, and when I moved out I was probably at my lowest weight. Then my hives started. I was put on steroids for months straight. A side effect of that is weight gain. I don’t know how much I weigh, because I chose not to weigh myself, but I think saying I gained 70/80 pounds wouldn’t be too far off. It was a big change, something I could not control. All I could do was watch. It was a lot to get used to so suddenly, especially when dealing with so many other things in my life. My body was changing even before I started testosterone. As most people with an eating disorder know, gaining weight is your greatest fear. Pretty quickly my eating disorder got worse, and an old eating disorder I hadn’t had in years got kicked into high gear. I am fat now, and I am more than okay with that. It took around two years to come to terms with that, and it’s only been the last few months where I finally felt comfortable calling myself fat. My body will never be the way it was before. There’s stretch marks and fat where there wasn’t before. I’m no longer the thin 18 year old. But that’s what life is. I’m 20, and I’m on testosterone, and I have tattoos and piercings and stretched ears and dyed hair. I’m never going to look like I did before and that’s okay. I like that. I’m a lot happier with my body now. Unlearning internalized fatphobia was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. But I’ve made a lot of progress and I’m really proud of it. It’s still something I struggle with, but now I can say I’m “recovering” from my eating disorders, and that itself gives me hope.

I realized I was transgender when I was 14. There were signs before then, but as I said at the beginning of this, my memory is pretty bad. Since my mother didn’t know about this, I can only guess the timeline based off of my Snapchat memories and pictures I took at the time. I don’t remember exactly what was the final nudge, but one thing that sticks out is when my mother told me to be careful with how I styled my short hair, because I could “look like a boy”. I admitted to myself that that’s what I wanted. I did want to look like a boy. There were a lot of other complicated feelings that I honestly don’t remember. I told my best friend at the time, and she was accepting. I told my sister a few days later, and as always, she loved me and accepted me. I first identified as genderfluid, but that lasted maybe a day. I realized nonbinary fit better. I wasn’t a girl, I was neutral. I wanted to look androgynous and slightly masculine. I used they/them pronouns with close friends for a few years, and I went by Noah. At 17, not long before I turned 18, I told my best friend I am trans guy and my pronouns are he/they. I had known I wanted top surgery and hormone replacement therapy for years, and I knew I could still do that using they/them pronouns and being nonbinary, but one day I just looked in the mirror and it all clicked together. I’m a trans guy. I still don’t connect with “trans man”, and if we were to get into it fully, I am still nonbinary. But “trans guy” is the best descriptor for me right now. In late August of 2021 I told my best friend that I really liked the name Ezra, and had been thinking about it for months. I finally told my partner (over text, because I was terrified), and then came out to everyone on my Instagram and Snapchat, which had my friends and old classmates, as Ezra and using he/they pronouns. I try not to focus on the fact that I can’t completely remember how I learned I was transgender, and choose to focus on the fact that transitioning brings me a lot of euphoria and has turned my life upside down in the best way possible. I am so much more comfortable in my body, my life, my appearance, my relationships, and just how I move throughout the world. I am, for the first time, happy and content in myself. Still need top surgery, but you know, money.

I came out to my mother via text in late February of 2022. My grandmother said it was the same as if my mother texted me telling me that she has cancer. So you can imagine this was well received. I endured a week of phone calls and texts where my mother was crying, saying she wanted to kill herself. She told me she called a suicide hotline the night I came out to her. She was texting my sister constantly asking where she went wrong. She told me several times she “knew in her heart” that I wasn’t trans, that this was just the current trend. She was angry that I had never told her this before. There was a Zoom call with her and my sister where she spent most of the time crying and denying the homophobia and transphobia I was brought up on. My partner was out of frame holding my hand. The call ended with me breaking down in tears, telling her that I’m fighting to be heard here and that I’m sure about this and have been dealing with it for years and this is something that I never brought up because I knew this is how she would react. Eventually the call ended, and the next morning I had a therapy appointment. We talked about everything, and I decided I needed space from my mother. I told her that, and I have not talked to her since in 551 days. There has been one message from her since then, where she did not apologize, and said she loved me amongst a bunch of religious bullshit. My grandmother berated me over text and when I told her I was not going to have a conversation about it, she berated me more. I haven’t talked to her since then too, despite her texting me twice since then saying where Thanksgiving and Christmas dinner would be held if I was “still interested in family” and asking if I had “divorced myself completely from my family” which is truly a hilarious sentence. I, of course, never answered. My dad shared his opinion, which was based on misleading comments my mother told him. When I told him the truth, he never responded. Haven’t talked to him since, either. I am still very close with my sister, but it makes things hard when family gets brought up. I do my best with placing boundaries and being honest, and she is endlessly supportive and loving, just like she has been all my life. I’m doing a lot better. Going no contact was the best thing I could have done. In the week after I came out, both my mother and grandmother said horrible things about me to my sister and to her roommate. Things I don’t want to repeat here. Things like how I’m not her child anymore. I never got an apology from anyone. I think they expect me to come back and pretend everything is normal. I have a lot of family nightmares, and I’m working through all of this extensively in therapy. I’ll probably talk about all this more another time. But it’s still hard to think about. I was 18 when I stopped talking to most of my family.

Not long after my hives disappeared in 2022, and pretty soon after cutting contact with my parents and grandmother, I got kidney stones. That was a bad night. My partner had to drive me to the ER at 2am. I don’t have my license, mainly due to the issues I was facing in high school. All my energy went to staying in school and staying alive. Plus a car accident that gives you a traumatic brain injury and an insane amount of mental health problems is pretty traumatizing and doesn't really make you want to jump behind the wheel. By the time I realized my stomach pain was not my normal stomach pain, was consistently getting worse through the hours, and was in fact an emergency, the kidney stones were almost done passing. Still had to endure medical care professionals who had apparently never met a trans person before and a fun little CT scan. So I lived through that, without support from my parents, and that was tough but it showed me that I was able to live without them. I was 19 at the time.

The therapist I’m seeing now is, funnily enough, the same therapist my mother stopped me from seeing when I realized I was in an abusive household. After moving I found her on LinkedIn and contacted her. I’ve been seeing her for almost two years. She’s a great therapist and the progress we have made is immeasurable.

Another health issue that came up, around seven or eight months ago at this point, was photophobia. Photophobia is a sensitivity to light. It’s a symptom of a bigger condition. You guessed it, I have no idea what the condition is. This isn’t really the fault of doctors, though, my primary care physician said there was nothing physically wrong with my eyes and referred me to an opthamologist, but that’s about when the money ran out so I still haven’t been able to figure it out. All I know is that it is very painful. My left eye is worse than the right for some reason. Photophobia burns, it feels like someone squirt hand sanitizer in my eyes. My eyes get red and watery, tears start flowing and I physically can’t open my eyes without immense pain. The only way I have been able to help it is to turn off all the lights and close the blinds, lay down for a bit with my eyes closed, after maybe 30 minutes open them, and then slowly introduce lights back into the room. It’s a whole ordeal.

I think those are all of my health conditions, and they are very hard to deal with. This in addition to my mental health conditions make living very difficult, let alone living well. I don’t leave the house much, mainly due to my anxiety and my eyes. I’ve had the same friends since high school and I love them dearly but I’ve really only made one in my adult life, and I’m 20 now. Because I can’t drive I rely on others to get me where I need to go, unless there’s an easy bus route. I wasn’t able to take the bus for the first year and a half when I moved out due to my anxiety. Even the thought of it sent me into panic attacks. I can’t be out in the heat for too long, which sucks because I live in the Phoenix, Arizona area. I have bad heat intolerance, so bad that any time I leave the house I have to bring an ice pack. I used to not be able to walk long distances for a while without insane leg cramps (something that testosterone effects, apparently) but thankfully that’s gone away. I’m very much not physically or mentally healthy, despite how often I try to treat these issues.

I did have a job, though. Only the one, after the money ran out. March 11, 2023 to May 11, 2023. Doing exactly two months was an accident. I worked as a retail recovery associate for J.C. Penney. It was hell. I was having panic attacks almost daily, dissociating during the whole shift. My stomach issues were a hundred times worse, and the photophobia was acting up daily. I had to leave work because of it twice. I couldn’t see and it looked like I was sobbing while hanging up clothes. I liked the job, the work, some of my coworkers, and the customers. Repetitive and easy. I liked talking to new people daily. Misgendering was a huge problem, despite me wearing a pronoun pin. It doesn’t help that I was placed in the women’s clothing section because that’s where I was needed. Coworkers would misgender me constantly, one even found out my deadname somehow and wrote it down on a paper we were using for the dressing rooms. The main issues were with the managers. Every time I tried to call out because of my medical issues or just straight up fear and anxiety, no one would answer the phone, no matter how many times I called. I would leave a message on the manager’s phone, because that’s all I could do. Apparently they weren’t getting these messages, and thought I was always a no call no show. They didn’t tell me this until the day before I quit. They were deducting points from me without my knowledge and I reached a point where so many points were taken that I would be fired. I had to leave that day because of my eyes, but the second I left the store I had a panic attack. I called and quit the next day. No one answered the phone, so I had to leave a message. I still don’t know if they actually got that message.

Since then I’ve been unemployed. I’ve been to a lot of interviews, but no luck. My partner of almost three years has been completely financially supporting me. Thankfully my insurance covers my psychotherapy and EMDR appointments I have weekly, but my partner pays for my testosterone (about $50 a month) and my prescription medications (about $20 a month). They pay all of our rent and have been for months. They pay for our food and for the food for our pet bunny, Bunjamin Buttons. As you can imagine, that causes a lot of pressure on them and some issues for us. We’re working through it a lot right now, but that’s a story for another time.

I think you’re pretty much caught up! This is the first time I’ve ever written (most) everything down, and clearly it’s not in chronological order. Hopefully it was understandable. But that’s what I’m working with! At 20 years old I’ve lived the life of 10 men, it feels like. And I have the brain injury, OCD, PTSD, major depressive disorder, social anxiety, eating disorders, and depersonalization/derealization diagnoses to show for it. Fuck.

#life story #queer #transgender #trans guy #personal writing #writing #nonfiction writing #nonfiction #personal essay

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voidaus · 4 years ago

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'Always Forever'

Summary: you and Corpse are dating and you two have been living together for a while now. You've been really stressed out because of work and he tries to cheer you up a bit being the adorable dork that he is.

Genre: fluff?

Warnings: swearing

Requested? No

Word count: 1051

Lately, you've been very stressed out and your boyfriend has definitely noticed it. Your publisher requires a lot more work of you than normal, which is almost impossible considering how hard you work already. Late evenings have become early mornings a while ago. You'd normally finish writing around 9. Then it became 11, then 12, and now it's often 3 AM when you're finally satisfied with your work. No, when Mark, that work-crazy publisher of yours is satisfied.

Corpse being Corpse, has been even more caring (if that's even possible) and with that, he's also getting more stressed himself. With all of his responsibilities of streaming, filming, and editing for his Youtube, you don't want him to worry about you. You know that it's going to be too much very soon, and he'll break down. Every time Corpse breaks down, your heart does too. It's so painful watching him hurt like that, and every time you wish you could just take all the pain away and protect him forever in your own little bubble.

Because you keep working till 3, every time he finishes working in his own room after 12 AM he'll try to get you to bed but end up defeated every time. That's when he comes to bring you tea, some snacks, and if your lucky a shoulder massage. You're so grateful of him and show it by showering him with cuddles and kisses after you finish all of your work up.

Right now it's 10 and you've been working non-stop since noon. The dinner Corpse brought you at 7 has cooled down entirely and is just sitting on the corner of your messy desk. There are papers everywhere and you're just as much of a mess as your desk. Mark had given you the assignment of 4 chapters turned in by midnight at 11 this morning. That gave you 13 hours to finish 4 chapters. 4 fucking chapters! One chapter is like, 20 pages long! And then the editing of the grammar and correct phrases... That's not humanly possible. You only took 2 bathroom brakes today and now here you are. In your studio, at 10 PM with not even 4 chapters done. You walk into you and Corpse's shared bedroom, grab a pillow, and you just scream as loud as you can. That relieved quite some tension.

Quickly getting back to your studio, you almost bump into the door of your bedroom. "fucking hell!" you scowl as you stumble back a bit. The house is quiet again quickly after you recover from almost falling. Corpses studio is isolated and so is yours, so whenever you come home, it's deadly quiet most of the time.

It's now a little past 12 and you tried to turn your assignment in as soon as possible, being 10 minutes late though. That little mistake cost you a 20-minute lecture over the phone from the angry publisher. You give a deep sigh as you slide down further in your chair putting your face in your hands. A knock on the door shakes you out of your thoughts. The door opened slowly letting the light of the hallway and a black mop of curls inside. "hey baby" Corpse says in a soft but raspy voice. "you okay?' You pout at him as your response. He opens his arms letting you walk into his chest. He puts his hands behind your knees, signaling for you to jump as you do so. "let's get you to bed hmm." you give a small nod and give his neck a soft kiss.

Corpse just laid you under the soft duvet and kissed your forehead before walking off. You laid there, almost falling asleep but not yet without his presence. He comes back a few minutes later, carrying some tea, chocolate, and a hot water bottle. "You know I'm on my period?" You ask, adoration in your voice. The warmth of your boyfriend spreads under the duvet as he joins you and pecks your nose, "Of course baby. We've been dating for almost a year now. I know everything about you." He says dragging out the first e.

Tomorrow is Saturday, so you know this is going to be the most sleep you've had in a while. "Whatcha thinking about?" Your boyfriend asks with his head nuzzled in your neck, making him barely audible. "nothing much. Just how much I love you." okay, okay, your reply was cheeky, but c'mon! You love the bean. "Always and forever?". "Yes Corpse. Just you and me, Always Forever." He pushes his head even further in the crook of your neck tickling you with his hair. You let out a giggle and push your shoulder up a bit. "Okay, Corpse, can you even breathe in there?!" A muffled "nope" comes out. You giggle again and attempt to push him away to which he dramatically fake cries, "nooooooo!!" "Corpsie, sorry love, but your lungs kinda need oxygen!" He would rather choke than stop cuddling you, no doubt in that. "Alright Corpsie, I have a present if you look up." You smirk to yourself knowing how much he loves presents. The mop of curls quickly sprung away from your neck, and he looked at you with those irresistibly big puppy eyes. "A present?" Man's 23 and he manages to speak with the biggest UwU voice ever to be heard. "here you go you big teddy bear". You start giving him small kisses all over his face and in no time his face is as red as can be. Ending the surprise attack, you give him a soft but passionate kiss on his lips. Corpse tasted chocolate, which isn't surprising considering you both just ate some. you pull away and laugh at his flushed face. A small push being sent your way. "shut up!"

Both of you lay cuddled up against each other for a while. You fall asleep soon after the little smooch session, whereas Corpse lays awake a little longer. Of course, he hates his sleep disorders, but at this moment he's glad that he's still awake, 'cause he gets to admire your beauty while you're peacefully lying in his arms. Not long after, Corpse himself falls asleep too, not quite aware that he'd wake up the next morning with 7 hours of sleep in his system.

Hey guys, This is my first fic! if you have any comments or help, please leave them, I'd love to get feedback! Also, The title is supposed to be in cursive, but Tumblr on my phone is being weird so I uploaded it like this on PC.

If you liked this, my taglist is open! so are my requests :)

#corpse husband #corpse x reader #corpse x y/n #corpse fic #x reader #imagine #corpse imagines #corpse husband imagine #fluff #corpse fluff #softboiicorpse

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lexacoolfox · 3 years ago

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Can i request nagito X fem!reader, she is mafia but really kind and sweet!! I really love to read the reader are stress and she really like to try smoke for the first time..but nagito defend her from doing that♡♡...i hope you like this^~^

Nagito x fem!reader who tries to smoke for the first time!

You and Nagito have been together for a while. He knew you were apart the mafia and he understood how stressful it could get.

Now you have a older brother who is over 20 and you more often then not. Sneak into his room to sometimes ‘borrow’ something from him.

✨one particular week was extra stressful. You didn’t want to bother your boyfriend with you problems.

✨what’s actually quite funny outside of your mafia business, you were actually sweet and caring. Which Nagito loved, but it also slightly confused him.

✨he often stares off into to space and thinks “how is S/O apart of the mafia? She way to nice to be a gangster.”

You have obviously have heard how smoking is bad for your lungs and how it will effect your life in the future. But you thought ‘trying once never hurt anybody. Right?’ I mean your brother does it why not you. So as mentioned before you snuck into your brother room and took a extra pack of cigarettes he had.

(Author note: I do not condone smoking. Also please don’t do it. It’s not healthy and it will take a toll on your life as well as cause medical problems. It could also possibly kill you. Don’t ever try it or if you already doing it please stop. Stay safe and healthy readers! Ok back to the story!)

What you didn’t expect was your boyfriend to walk in on you trying to light a cigarette!

You quickly hid it behind your back even though he already saw it.

“Nagito darling! I wasn’t expecting you for another hour! You should’ve texted me you came early.”

“I wanted to surprise you. But I can see I was the one surprised.”

He had a sad look on his face. It pained your heart but you still tried to play stupid.

“I don’t know what you could ever mean by that. How about you go wait on the couch, and I’ll be down in a few minutes.”

“My hope…let’s not beat around the bush with this. Why are you trying that?”

“Trying what? Sweetheart.”

He pulled the box of cigarettes out of your pocket. You were caught there was no getting out of it.

“Alright fine. You caught me. I just wanted to try it out. This week mafia business has been particularly tough. So I thought I would give smoking a shot. I was just going to try it once.”

“My hope! That’s how addictions start! You say you’ll try it once but then you want to do it more and more. You realize that this is seriously dire to your health don’t you. This can actually kill you!”

He takes the one out your hand and throws both the box, the single one in the trash can. Your brother is not going to be happy with that.

He then walks over to you and hugs you. You can hear him quietly sobbing.

“Wow Nagito! I’m sorry ok! I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry!!”

“Please don’t ever try this again. I can’t image a world without my hope! Next time just come to me, I know I’m human trash but I might be able to help in some way.”

“Ok ok. I’m sorry love! I just didn’t want to waste your time with my mafia business, also stop that with the human trash stuff.”

“You won’t be wasting my time. I’m surprised you waste time on unworthy scum like me.”

“Stop it with the trash talk! Or im going to use my secret weapon!”

“Using something so important on trash human like me, what an honor.”

“That’s it!”

You throw him on your bed and start tickling him while kissing his face.

“Hahahaha- stop- I can’t- haha- breath- hahahahaha”

“Say your not human trash and I’ll *kisses* stop kissing and tickling you.”

You continued, he snapped when he you started sucking on his neck.

“Ah!~ ok! ok! you win! I’m not human trash!”

You got off of him with you giggling and him still laughing.

“You wanna go down stairs and watch a movie love?”

“Yeah that’s sound good to me.”

“Then we could cuddle for a little bit.”

“Whatever you wanna do my hope!”

“I love you!”

“I love you more my hope.”

#anime #danganronpa x y/n #s/o x danganronpa characters #drv2 #danganronpa goodbye despair #danganronpa 2 #nagito komeada x reader #nagito komeada #nagito x reader #Nagito komeada x s/o

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crazy4myself · 5 years ago

Text

No Harm List Pt. 1

Word Count: 6K

Warnings: Violence, explicit language, I’m sure this will get worse as we go

Summary: You live in a city where crime runs rampant. One day, you save a young boy’s life, not knowing that he is the most powerful crime lord's heir. And you have just been put on the no harm list.

a/n: this is my first fic and it's taken me near a year to get the balls to write and post it. I would like to make this a series or drabble series if people seem interested in reading more. Please let me know if you like it :)

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Let’s start from the beginning. Which was the night you saved the maknae’s life.

You were leaving your late-night shift at 929, the convenience store you worked at. The job, like the rest of your college experience, wasn’t in any way glamourous. But the owners were nice, and since it was a 24-hour store, it was easy to get hours despite your demanding college schedule; if you were willing to sacrifice sleep. It was a heavy stock day, so you were getting out later than planned, but you lived less than a mile from your apartment, so you didn’t mind the walk back.

Something was comforting about walking the 7th ward at 3 a.m. when the streets are the quietest. The late-night crowd from the gambling halls and bars always seem to turn in around 2, and the more motivated hustlers tend to wake up at 4 to get a head start on their day. The hour of 3 a.m. was a 60 minute breath of fresh air where few people roamed the streets. A common hour where criminals and businessmen alike hugged their pillows.

A chill lingered in the air the way it always does after a big rainstorm, causing goosebumps to rise on your arms. By the look of the sidewalks, you were going to get your socks wet on the walk home, thanks to the weakening seems on your only pair of boots.

You kept your pepper spray in one hand and your phone in your pocket as you made your way down the street. Just because 3 a.m. was a quieter hour did not mean it was safe, especially in the 7th ward. Staying aware of your surroundings gave people less of a chance to sneak up on you, so you didn’t check your phone or listen to music. You made yourself stare strait ahead and walk confidently. Seeming like more trouble than you or your wallet is worth, is one of your primary forms of self-defense on nights like these.

When you moved out of the university dorms after your freshman year, you told your family of your plans to share a house with a few friendly classmates in the quiet suburbs outside the city where it was safer, and that seemed to quell their worries. And as long as they weren’t worried about you, you were okay with lying to them.

Because you didn’t live in the suburbs with friendly classmates, you very much lived alone in a shitty apartment where you were fairly certain all your neighbors were drug dealers. But your landlord Mrs.Rita doesn’t seem to mind at all. To your knowledge, the location was in a gang neutral territory, so you didn’t need to worry about any raids or shootings that you hear talk of so often on the bus or at work.

You have lived in the 7th ward for the better part of three years. It was one of the dirtiest and most dangerous parts of the city capital, a place where gangs, drugs, violence, ruled the streets.

It was also the cheapest place to live and only a 20-minute commute from your university by public transport.

When you first got accepted into university, your parents were as happy for you as they were worried. The university had one of the top medical programs in the world, and to be accepted on scholarship was an honor even they couldn't overlook, but living across the ocean in a different country meant they lived with no peace of mind.

So you always kept your letters and phone calls short and pleasant. You never complained or let them know of any struggles you were having because the moment they got word of your hardships, they would latch onto that and convince you to come home.

You hadn’t made it eight blocks from the store when you heard someone cry out. It was a strangled sound that made you freeze in your tracks before it was quickly cut short.

The silence was accompanied by a low thud that made your stomach drop. Your heart pounded in your ears as possibilities raced through your mind. It could be some restless teens goofing off late at night, it could be something you can just stroll pass without a problem, but it was equally likely that it wasn’t. And you didn’t know what to do about that risk.

You debated turning around and going back to the store and hiding out for an hour or two until whatever happened settled down.

It was the sound of another cry out that broke you from the worrying debate as your instincts sent you flying in the direction of the sound. Because apparently, your instincts aren’t here to keep you alive.

You turned the corner and peered down the alley where the commotion was coming from to be met by a set of thugs corning a young boy. The thugs turned at the sound of your shoes scraping against the asphalt and sneered at you.

“What do you think you’re doing?” You demanded as you took in the scene of two men and met eyes with the young boy with wide doe eyes who was pinned to the wall by the largest man in the group.

The boy had what looked to be the start of a black eye and a small trickle of blood running from his split lip. He looked a few years younger than you, and by the looks of the brand name on the sleeve of his shirt, he had no reason to be in this part of town.

“Keep walking, sweetheart before you see something you don’t want to,” one of the men, who was covered in tattoos, growled.

You felt your legs tremble as part of you wished to listen to him.

“Leave him alone,” you pushed in a voice that was much weaker than you intended.

What were you doing? Did you have a deathwish?

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” the tattoos questioned voicing your own thoughts as his scrawny partner pushed off the wall stalked towards you.

“Do you think this going to go well for you?” Scrawny taunted as he closed the distance. You stepped back, making sure to keep your back to the mouth of the alleyway to avoid getting cornered to the wall.

“Get out of here,” the boy warned, you spared him a look to see Tattoos kneed him in the gut.

The boy's face twisting in pain served distraction enough for Scrawny to charge toward you and shove you toward the wall before you could react.

“I thought we told you to scram '' he sneered in an oily voice. One of his hands that was backing your figure against the wall reaching up to tug at a strand of your hair, “Or does a tiny thing like you want to play the hero?” you felt his hot breath on your face as he crowded you.

An involuntary squeak slipped from your lips, and your heart pounded as your mind begged you to do something quickly. You gripped the pepper spray tighter in your grip forcing yourself to react.

Before Scrawny could make another move, you held your breath and squeezed your eyes shut, wedging your arm between the two of you and pulling the trigger on your pepper spray while simultaneously bringing your knee up between his legs.

You yelped in pain as Scrawny pushed away from you, taking a lock of your hair with him, but forced your mouth to stay shut as he and howled in pain. A string of coughs and curses mixing in as he inhaled the pepper spray.

Opening your eyes to water in the residue of the mace in the air, you realized you must have hit your target because the man was no longer on his feet and slowly curling into a ball on the ground still hacking out a lung.

Tattoo’s cursed under his breath and pulled the boy off the wall by his shirt and slammed his body into the brick twice in frustration.

“I have to do everything around here!” He rorared. The sound of the boys body impacting aginst the wall echoed in the alley with Tatto’s scream.

Tatto’s reached in his back pocked and with a flick of the wrist displayed a wicked blade as the boy blinked up at him dazed.

You screamed out in horror. Desperate to get the man away from the boy, you pulled your shoe off your foot and lobbed it at the back of Tatto’s head.

With a growl, he released the boy who crumpled to the ground before turning his attention to you.

He looked down at the ground making a point to slowly toe your limp boot out of his path with a low chuckle before prowling forward a preditor cornering his prey.

You found his intimidation tactic to be very effective, you body telling him as much as you raised your pepper spray between you, hand trembling.

The man barked a laugh. “Go ahead, sweetheart, I put that stuff on my eggs for breakfast,” he taunted.

Under normal circumstances, you would call bullshit, but right now as he stalked towards you, you were willing to believe such an unorthodox diet.

Please be a thug and not a rapist, you found yourself begging in the back of your mind as he slapped the can out of your hand before you could even press down on the trigger.

“Now, I don’t like cutting up pretty girls, but you’re leaving me no choice sweetheart.” he warned as he crowded your space.

With a seemingly effortless flick of his wrist, he backhanded you across the cheek, the momentum sending you flying towards the ground. The smack of skin still rang in your ears as you landed hard on the asphalt palms stinging.

Tears welled in your eyes as Tattoo’s grabbed your hair by the roots and leaned to whisper in your ear. You felt the cool metal of the flat of the blade cress down your arm.

But no threats came.

Instead, you were tugged harshly to the side nearly faceplanting to the ground, and a scream ripped from your throat in the confusion as the knife clattered away.

You opened your eyes to see Tattoos on the ground next to you eyes rolling into his skull, and the boy you were ‘saving’ leaning over you.

“C’mon get up!” he grabbed your hand, pulling you onto your feet.

You winced as your hair untangled from Tattoo’s now limp grip, and you looked over to see the man had fallen on the ground with you blinking dazed as blood trickled from his temple.

“Run!” the boy ordered, keeping hold of your hand and dragging you out the alley and back up the street.

You trailed behind him clumsily at first, thrown off balance by your missing shoe. But it wasn’t long before you heard footsteps tromping behind you, and you magically regained your coordination with the new burst of adrenaline and fear.

“Don’t look back,” the boy huffed before you could spare a glance over your shoulder.

You ran a few more blocks before you saw the famier sight of your work.

“C’mon this way,” You pant taking the lead and pulling him into the alley by 929.

“We can’t-” you hushed him as he started to argue, pulling him behind one of the dumpsters as you heard the thugs run past you and turn the corner onto the next street.

The two of you sat in silence for an eternity of a minute, holding your breath as you made sure they didn’t come back. At that time, you realized you grossly underestimated the boy’s age. He didn’t look like a high schooler at all. Once you got past his wide round eyes you could see he was clearly your age.

He was handsome, and although his shirt near swallowed him, you could see the fabric stick to his defined biceps and what looked to be a solid stomach.

“I think we’re good,” he whispered, breaking you from a trance. He smiled at your startled expression.

“I’m Jungkook, by the way,” he said with a grin as he offered his hand. Grasping his hand, you responded with your own name as he helped you up from your crouch.

“I wouldn’t doubt it if they turn back around though, I wouldn’t doubt if there’s more than two of them. We need to get off the street,” he breathed, turning to you.

“I have a place” you offered, wondering why you were about to risk your employment for this stranger as you walked deeper in the alley to where the back entrance of 929 was.

“Please don’t touch anything,” you requested sheepishly as you unlocked the door. He cracked a small smile, which in turn cracked his lip as it started to well red with blood. You need to get the first aid kit- you thought to yourself.

You entered the store and immediately locked eyes with your shift cover, Skip -the owner’s nephew. He was a lanky fellow about 1 year past due for a haircut, but he never gave you any trouble.

“What are you doing back here?” he questioned, eyeing you and Jungkook’s disheveled state.

“What are you doing back here? Why aren’t you on the floor?” you shot back, trying to appear calm. He scowled at you before returning to the register upfront.

You led Jungkook through the backroom to the small corner that was the ‘employees lounge’, a folding chair and cardtable that was half-covered in inventory documents and leaned a little too far to the left.

“Best stay in the backroom since the front of the store is made up of windows,” you said lightly before reaching for the first aid kit on a nearby shelf.

He watched you curiously as you shuffled through the dusty medical supplies. This can't be sanitary, you thought to yourself as you read through the expired labels with slight difficulty as your hands shook. You were just coming down from an adrenaline high, you told yourself stubbornly.

You settled on the hydrogen peroxide which didn’t look out of date just yet and poured some on the cleanest rag you could find. Willing your hand to hold steady before prodding it gently at the scratches on his face.

Jungkook tried to keep his expressions neutral, tried to keep his eyes staring past you and to the doorway to avoid studying every detail of your face. But he found himself failing as he watched you fall into the comfort of tending to his wounds.

He noticed the distraction was grounding you more than putting you on edge. And he wondered if you were experienced in this somehow as you reached for his hands to pick out the rubble and wrap his split knuckles.

When you started work on his hands he realized that he was shaking, and he flushed with embarrassment. You didn’t seem to notice or judge him at least. You inspected his hand with a trained eye overlooking the tremor and instead focusing on the swelling on his wrist.

Fractured, you wondered, watching his face cautiously as you gave an experimental turn. He flinched, confirming your suspicion, and you winced thinking about how you grabbed his arm to pull him into the alley.

“Thank you for helping me,” he said, finally breaking the silence, “and for this.” He ended awkwardly, pulling his hand from your grasp and gesturing to the rag in your hand and the first aid kit.

“Oh,” you let out not knowing how to respond to such a situation, “umm you’re welcome I mean anyone would-”

“They wouldn’t,” he cut you off with another cheeky grin, “but I’m glad you did. Although I’m sorry, you had to.” you nodded in response all words lost as you flushed unsure of what to do with yourself you shuffled through the first aid kit.

“Wait, wait, we didn’t get you,” he murmured, taking your hand and gently turning it palm up to reveal the scattered scratches.

He stood from the chair maneuvering you so you could be seated instead, before helping himself to the first aid kid. He picked out a few bits of gravel before carefully dabbing the scrapes to clean them, and reaching for the thin white strips of gauze. Wrapping your hands in a way, he saw you wrap his own.

You smiled amused, while it was a little unnecessary to wrap your hands, the cuts on his were much deeper than your own. You appreciated the gesture. You couldn’t remember the last time someone tended to your wounds.

“Now Cinderella, let’s take a look at that foot,” he said with a teasing smile as he crouched down, reaching for your ankle.

Panic flew through you as you pulled your foot away with an embarrassing squeal. “No need, it’s fine. I swear,” you flushed.

He looked at you, amused, “Everyone has feet, it’s fine,” he taunted, reaching for your soggy sock.

“I know, I know, but please,” you gasped. “I’m ticklish, and I will squirm,” you warned.

“I think I can handle it.”

“No, you can’t. I don't want to hurt you. I think your wrist is broken,” you accused in your desperation to deflect.

Jungkook looked up at you with a faltering smile argument dying on his lips. And you tried to amend yourself as your rambled, “Or fractured at least, the swelling indicates that-”

“You’re a doctor?” he questioned, looking pleasantly surprised.

“No, not yet, at least. I’m in school, but not far enough to help you. We should really get you to the hospital to get it taken care of, and who knows what state your ribs are in.” you said, looking down as he still kneeled on the ground. You wondered how he wasn’t showing any sign of discomfort, even with adrenaline in his system he should be in some pain.

“Oh no, no hospital” he argued quickly, and you raised an eyebrow at him suspiciously “If you let it heal wrong it’ll-”

“I’ll have a friend take me, I don’t want you to go through that trouble” you looked at him unimpressed but didn’t push you knew when a fight was a lost cause.

“Well, are you going to call a friend or a cab to pick you up, I’m not letting you just walk out there to die after risking my life for you.” you teased. He rolled his eyes at the statement but agreed he should call someone.

You wandered a little closer to the front of the store to give him a sense of privacy as he made his call. You felt a twinge of pain in your ankle as you got up and reached down to tug your sock off. You wondered if you rolled it in your heroic flee earlier.

You frowned down at your wet sock. You can’t belive you just threw you boot like that. They weren’t in the best condition, but they were the best pair your had. The closest thing to water resistant. The last bits of Spring were going to suck without them.

Then you shamelessly wondered if you could go back to the alley to grab it, once you and Jungkook parted ways.

As you assess yourself for an injury and mourned your lost boot, you couldn’t help but overhear Jungkook’s conversation. It seems he called a friend instead of a cab. What stood out to you was his tone of voice when he spoke.

You know there is no easy way to tell a friend you got mugged, some dumb girl interfered, and now you were hiding out in the back of a convenience store, but he had a tone of... professionalism? As if he were calling his boss and informing him of a missed deadline. He spoke efficiently and made odd references as if he were speaking in a code of some kind.

It never occurred to you at any point this evening that Jungkook could be dangerous. Sitting alone with him in the back of the shop, he gave off such a warm and inviting presence that you never questioned what he was capable of. You just assumed he was the victim of a mugging.

But now, taking in his clothing, how he spoke to his ‘friend’ on the phone, and the way he refused to go to the hospital, you start to wonder just who you let in the store.

“Did you need to call someone?” you jumped as his voice broke your trail of thought, and he looked at you apologetically.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to sneak up on you. I just thought you may wanna call a cab yourself” he offered

You worried your lip as you looked at the idle screen of your own phone, and your mind drew a blank at who you could call.

You had friends, just no one you could call at 4:30 a.m. on a school night and ask for a ride to your apartment that was less than two miles away. You really didn’t want to pay for a cab either. The thought of sitting in a vehicle with a stranger sounds less than ideal, not to mention the cab fare in the area was ridiculous and you might have a new pair of boots to save up for.

Finally, sighing, you looked up at him with a teasing smile, “I was just going to head home once I know you're safe,” you said, trying your best to make your voice seem light.

Jungkook smiled but not out of humor.

“You’re joking, right? Look, I’m not trying to sound disrespectful, but you really shouldn’t be out there like that this late.”

You scrunch your nose in displeasure, and before you could kindly remind him, it was nearly 5 o’clock in the morning, and was you who saved his ass just over an hour ago he pushed forward.

“Those guys saw your face just as much as mine. It’s not safe to be out tonight; you have no clue if they're lurking.”

You felt a small chill of fear go through you, and you couldn’t help yourself from asking, “Did you know them? What did they want from you?”

He looked uneasy at your question, and you wondered if saving him might have unexpected consequences. “No, no, I didn’t know them, or why they mugged me; they probably wanted my wallet or something,” he finally said with a shrug, but it didn’t feel like the truth.

“Jungkook do-”

“Hey, let me give you a ride home.”

You were caught off guard by his offer, but as he continued to plead with you and reminded you of all the dangers of walking home, you took him up on his request. And half hoping maybe in your time together you could get the truth out of him.

You tried to act normal while you waited with him for his friend to come to pick the two of you up.

You considered thinking of an excuse to get out of the ride home, but he never did anything to you to prove he wasn’t trustworthy. You told yourself you were just paranoid after such a jarring experience. Jungkook was probably as worked up as you were after all.

Then the car pulled up. It was sleek black and with a soft purring engine that looked out of place on the west side of the city. You looked between the car and Jungkook trying to determine if he was rich or a criminal as the passenger side window rolled down revealing the most stunning man you’ve ever seen, that looked at you in a way that had you pulling at the edge of your work polo to smooth out the wrinkles.

“Get in loosers we’re going shopping,” he said in fake enthusiasm.

You didn’t know how to react to the outdated Mean Girl’s reference, and he laughed at your dumbfounded expression before deadpanning, “I’m kidding, but seriously Kook please get your friend in the car before we get shot. The area isn’t secure,” his flat tone contrasting with the carefree rectangular smile he punctuated his sentence with.

Jungkook cursed under his breath before putting his good hand against your lower back to urge you into the backseat of the car before sliding in behind you.

As you made your way into the fine vehicle, you were very aware of your missing shoe and haggard appearance. You worried you may soil the interior permanently.

The car took off as soon as Jungkook slid in the back behind you. And Jungkook pulled the door shut with a curse as the car started rolling.

You looked up to see the driver was an equally beautiful man.

You weren’t one to compare humans to higher beings. However, you were very aware that you were sitting in the car with a Greek god and his angel best friend. Saints were you in some kind of beautiful men only AU? You needed to find a way out before your heart exploded.

You curse yourself for thinking so shallowly when you may not even be in the clear of a life-threatening situation just yet.

But you noticed you were sitting behind the angel in the driver’s seat, and as far as you were concerned, that was a pretty good position to be in, in the case of a kidnapping. They would have a hard time holding you hostage if you had your hands around their driver’s throat.

“These are my friends Jimin and Taehyung,” Jungkook introduced as you both buckled. “Guys, this is... Cinderella,” Jungkook says, stretching out his words as he thought. You looked at him with a raised eyebrow as the angel Jimin let out a laugh, the sound as pure as bells.

Taehyung turned around with a challenging glint in his eye, and your stomach dropped as you recognized his face. “Is that what you go by, princess?” He taunted, and you squirmed under his gaze.

“Do you two know each other?” Jungkook asked, brows furrowed.

“We go wayyy back,” Taehyung, who up until now you knew as V, teased. Jungkook looked at you expectingly.

“He’s uh- he’s my dealer,” you said quietly as you stared at your lap, “nothing heavy just some Adderall during finals season,” you amended flushing.

It was true, although your interactions were brief until tonight, you didn’t even know his real name. You just knew him as the guy in the hoodie that hung out behind the Mexican restaurant, not too far off-campus, that went by V. He wore a mask any time you met probably to hide such a distinct smile, but the moment you heard his voice, you recognized him.

“And mid-term season, and test week, and group projects, and -”

“We get it, Tae,” Jimin said with a warning to his tone cutting the dealer off in his listing.

The car fell into a tense silence before your body was once again lurched into the car door from Jimin taking another tight turn, and the motion helped you gather your wits.

“Are we going to the hospital?’ you asked, confused about how confidently Jimin was driving despite not knowing your address.

“No, we’re taking a few laps around town before we drop you off just in case we have anyone following you guys, you don’t want your friends from earlier to know where you live” Jimin offered. The confidence in his voice suddenly made you uncomfortable as you realized they may be experienced in this situation.

“Why would we go to the hospital; are you injured?” he followed concern bleeding into his voice. Taehyung turned around in his seat to asses you for himself, lips quirking at the sight of your missing shoe.

“No, Jungkook is his wrist-”

“Is fine, I'll have someone look at it when we get to the house” Jungkook cut you off with a warning look.

Teahyung laughed “You’re getting an earful tonight brother.” he teased as Jimin took a sharp turn lurching your body into the door.

“I- umm I would like to go home as soon as possible, please,” you asked weakly as you saw the first rays of the sun were starting to paint the buildings.

Jimin’s eyes flashed towards you in the rearview mirror, concerned, “I really do promise to get you home safely, princess, but to do that, please let me do my job first and then this night will be over.” he assured his voice warm and confident. And while part of you believed he truly did plan to get you home safe tonight the rest of your mind was immediately set on high alert by his kind words

Forty-odd minutes later, you found yourself deep in the upper east side of the city where all the houses had tall iron fences, and the yards were decorated with fountains. By the time you gave Jimin the address of your apartment, the streets were beginning to come to life with the weekday morning traffic.

“How long have you been staying there Ella?” Tae asked, recognizing Mrs.Rita's establishment.

“I’ve actually been living there for about 3 years now. It’s a dump, but I’m broke, so what can you do.” you offered tiredly as you leaned against the window unphased by your new nickname.

Throughout the car ride, Taehyung’s names for you went from Cinderella to Ella, to El. Jimin stuck with calling you Princess, however, it didn’t feel like an insult coming from his lips.

Throughout the ride, Jungkook and Tae had done an excellent job of calming your nerves and keeping you distracted. Tae had been going on and on about which coffee shop was the best one, and you were pleased when he agreed that your favorite shop served the best dirty chi in town.

‘Tae has a talent for finding everything dirty in this town’ Jimin had teased before receiving a smack on the shoulder from the younger.

You think you might have heard Tae ask a follow-up question, or perhaps he was talking to Jungkook as you listened to the rumble of his response. But all you could focus on were the manicured lawns of the east side and fighting the heavyweight of your eyelids against the morning sun.

“Ella,” Jungkook sang lightly, giving your shoulder a small shake.

You blinked blearily at him as your surroundings slowly came to focus, and you remembered where you were. You sat up with a gasp, immediately cursing yourself for falling asleep in a car full of strange men.

“Your castle awaits Princess,” Jimin offered as they rolled up to the complex, and you realized Tae was no longer in the front seat next to him. He must have gotten dropped off on your way to the Westside.

You looked around in shock. They really didn’t kidnap you.

Jimin let out a startled laugh and you realized you accedntly voiced your surprise. You flushed and thanked him for the ride while Jungkook slid out the car rushing around the back and opening the door to help you out, ever the gentleman.

“I wanted to thank you… again” Jungkook said shyly as he walked you to your door, you hand on his arm as if he truly were escorting a lady.

“I- its no problem.” You said, unsure of how to go on with the attention.

“Why didn’t you tell them my real name?” you asked as you ascended the stairs.

“I didn’t want to violate your privacy like that, you were in a car full of strange men. That’s stressful enough” Your heart warmed at his kindness.

“But you walking me to my door and knowing where I live should put me at ease?” you challenge as you came to a stop in front of your apartment. Jungkook flushed as he looked around, noticing just how exposed the complex is. He didn't like that the area wasn’t gated, and the entrances were outside like a cheap motel.

“I suppose I didn’t think that through” he shrugged.

“Just remember I have pepper spray, and I’m not afraid to use it.”

He chuckled before you both fell into an awkward silence, not knowing how to say goodbye, and for a brief moment, you realized neither of you wanted to.

“Well, I better-”

“Yeah yeah definitely,” he agreed, scratching the back of his neck.

“You have a good night or morning,” he offered with a smile as you unlocked your door and parted ways.

-----------

You don’t remember falling asleep, but you remember when your alarm went off at 10 a.m. and deciding you were going to skip your classes and sleep in.

You were in need of a ‘mental health’ day more than ever after the night-morning, you had. It was near 2 p.m. when you finally cracked your eyes open. Hunger and the need to relieve yourself finally dragging you from your sleep. You stumbled aimlessly as you took care of your body’s needs and even entertained a shower.

But after the shower, you were at a loss. You didn’t know what to do of yourself. At one point you checked your temperature to try to determine if it was all a fever dream, but the gauze on your hands and the bruise on your cheek confirmed you did, in fact, whip a thugs ass last night and got your own ass handed to you as a result.

After further investigation, you found that your left boot was still missing and wondered if you could find it if you searched for it on your way to work in the evening.

After an hour of contemplation, you decided you had to move on with life. One night of adventure wasn’t going to change your reality.

You were still a student in the throes of pre-med school, you still have responsibilities and assignments. And while last night’s adventure will be a great tale to share with some friends over drinks at the pub on Friday night, it was Wednesday afternoon, and you still had assignments to do.

You set up you work space telling yourself you wouldn’t put more than three things on your to-do list this afternoon. Before you decided you much rather water your plants and clean your apartment then attempt to study. It was a mental health day after all.

You indulged in putting on the old jazz record you dad mailed you for Christmas your freshman year. At the time, you didn’t have the heart to tell him you didn’t even have a record player, so you put away a little money for every paycheck until you could find a cheap used one at a rummage store.

You're sure the quality isn’t the best. Still, you’re also sure you have never heard a more beautiful sound than the day you finally dropped the needle on the disk and listened to the familiar tune.

And while you have since gotten other records, this one remains your favorite, because it always reminded you of home. You were singing along in a terrible impression of the musician, for your own entertainment as you made your bed and finally put away the pile of clean laundry you had been cuddling on your bed for the pst two weeks. When you heard a rapid knock at your door.

You called out as you made your way to your door, surprised by the unexpected guest.

Perhaps your music was too loud. Perhaps your singing was too loud and your neighbors wanted to complain. You were mortified by the thought.

You opened the door apology on your lips when you saw nothing but the covered the breezway. Perhaps it was some brat pranking you, you thought to yourself bitterly. But as you went to close your door, you saw a small parcel sitting on the ground outside. Picking up the box there was a small note attached that merely said:

For Cinderella: Thanks :)

Taking it inside, you opened the box carefully to find a shiny new pair of black boots. Much finer than the ones you owned before. The leather was soft and polished, and the laces were crips. And dare you say, they were much more fashionable than your old pair. Curiously you tried them on to find that they were your exact size.

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

The Bangtan family believed in life debts, it was one of the few traditions that they valued enough to maintain and honor. If someone were to save a member's life, that person no matter their class, status, or gang affiliation, was added to the ‘No Harm List.’ A very short but sacred list of individuals the Bangtan family went out of their way to protect and ensure the safety of from their gang as well as any others in the area.

The life debt was not paid by just the member who was saved, but the entire family. And while no life-debt could be valued more than another, the entire Bangtan family was quickly made aware of the new princess of the lower west side. Rumor spread of Cinderella and how you saved the maknae, heir to the family dynasty’s life.

“I don’t think this counts as paying your life debt,” Suga sighed as he put the car in park in front of your apartment complex.

“I’m not trying to pay it off! You can't do that. This is to thank her, now please go set it by her door. She can’t know it was from me!,” Jungkook pleaded to his elder.

“Who else would buy her shoes?” the elder challenged with a raised eyebrow.

Jungkook didn’t reply but merely stared at him pleadingly, his doe eyes reflecting the cosmos.

Suga sighed as he unbuckled his seat belt thinking of 100 more important things he should be doing right now before making his way up the concrete stairs to your apartment. He heard soft jazz music seeping through the door, accompanied by a terrible impression of Louis Armstrong. Which made him huff with laughter as he set the package down and knocked on your door, pulling his cap down as he strolled back to his vehicle.

-> Pt. 2

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whumpingcrow · 3 years ago

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Ink Poisoning - Chapter 10

"Garbage Person"

CW: bbu and everything in relation to that, drugs/alcohol (explicit), injury description, blood, sick whumpee, anxiety attack, amputation mention (vague), noncon mention, conditioned whumpee, food mention (let me know if I missed anything!)

Nicko had been working on a tattoo when Ben called him. The skin underneath him belonged to a slightly older woman, a blonde with pink lipstick on her teeth that he could see every time she smiled at him. She was annoying, and she was flirting with him, which made her even more annoying. The first time his phone rang, he ignored it completely, too consumed in his work to even look up. Secretly, he was wishing that he was tattooing Gio instead. It had been a little over a week since Nicko made him sick by icing him out, and Nicko hadn't allowed himself to bring him back to the shop. Instead, it became his mission to make him better. He made him soup, he let him sleep in his bed, he even helped him take a bath the first day he was sick.

That had been difficult. Nicko had never been "nice", he knew that about himself. He was notoriously an asshole, famously short tempered and foul mouthed. He knew what empathy was, he could feel it, but it was just...rare. The knowledge that others had emotions and feelings didn't matter to him, most of the time. But when he gave Gio a bath, he'd never felt worse for someone in his entire life. Gio could hardly keep himself upright, couldn't even keep his eyes open, when Nicko undressed him and helped him into the water. Nicko hadn't washed the blood off of his face the night before, hadn't wanted to move him around and hurt him more than he was, so when he wet a rag and tried to gently wipe the dried blood off, he wanted to cry right along with Gio. He held his head still with one hand on his jaw as he ran the towel over the bridge of his nose, over his cheekbones, very carefully under his eyes, wiping away some of his tears along with the blood. Nicko couldn't believe he'd hurt him so badly. He felt even worse when Gio's face was clean and he could see the bruises he'd left there. Then Nicko washed his hair, there was blood there, too, somehow, and then he just sat outside of the bathtub and let Gio warm up in the water for a few more minutes. He couldn't stop crying.

"I'm sorry, sir," he whimpered out, using his wrists to push away the tears, directing his huge, teary eyes at Nicko. He looked hopeless, his chocolate brown eyes dulled down with fear and sadness. Nicko reached out and traced his thumb down Gio's face tenderly. He looked so young, with his hair slicked back out of his face and his huge eyes and his cheeks and nose flushed red from crying and his fever. His file didn't include an age when Nicko got him, but he couldn't have been more than 20.

"You shouldn't be sorry, Gio. Really, I'm the one who messed up. I'm..." He paused, frowning to himself. The words didn't sound right in his head, he hadn't used them earnestly enough all that often, so it was sort of alien to him. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you."

Gio looked positively perplexed, like he was just as much as used to hearing apologies as Nicko was at giving them. "S...Sir?" He squeaked.

"When I came back out and saw you outside like that, all bloody and fucking tied up...God, Gio, I was just disgusted." He could see Gio's face fall even more, and his heart sank. "No! No, not of you! I was disgusted in myself. I was disgusted that I did something so awful to you. And I'm sorry."

After that, Nicko made him rest, and he nursed him back to health. It was the least he could do, after putting him in that condition in the first place. That morning, he was up with Nicko, asking if he could go with him to work, if he would finish his tattoo. Nicko thought it was adorable, but he still had bruises and still seemed a little out of it, so Nicko made him stay home. He was regretting it now, as the blonde bimbo told him "Don't be afraid to hurt me, I don't mind a little pain" with a wink.

The second time his phone rang, he told the blonde to give him a moment, pulling off his gloves as he stood up and walked into the next room to answer the phone.

"What Ben? I'm working."

"Hey, uh...you didn't take Gio with you to work, did you?" Ben's voice was a little nervous, and Nicko was instantly worried.

"No, I left him there. Is he not there?"

"Um..."

"Ben is he there or not?!"

"I thought I saw him earlier, but I can't find him now. I think he jumped ship, dude."

Nicko had never had an anxiety attack before. Nervous, sure. Fits of rage, all the time. But he'd never felt the tight rubber bands around his lungs feeling that took his breath away when Ben said that. So he hung up the phone and left through the back, all but sprinting to his car. It was a miracle he got home in one piece, with how fast he was driving and how badly his hands were shaking. Gio jumped ship. Gio hates you because of how badly you hurt him. You scared him so bad he ran away. You awful person. You horrible, garbage person. The anxiety only worsened when he got home and Gio really was gone, he wasn't just hiding out somewhere like he sometimes did. Nicko pictured him, his huge, horrified eyes, how small he was, how he was probably out there scared and alone and someone might hurt him and Nicko wasn't there to protect him. You should have just taken him to work with you. This wouldn't have happened if he came with you. This is all your fault. Garbage person.

It wasn't until after he had calmed down and hours after Salem was home that Nicko even realized any of his things were missing. He was exhausted, the second he explained to Salem what had happened there was a fight, with rightfully placed blame on Nicko that he was wrongfully defensive about, as always. With his nerves shot and beyond tired from his incessant anger, he got drunk. It was a bad habit, his drinking in an attempt to mute his anger. But it was better than picking another fight with Salem to blow of some steam, and it felt better than the newfound anxiety every time he thought about Gio.

It was when he was drunk that he decided to paint, to make a mess with some red without actually hurting anyone again, and he noticed a few of his paintbrushes were gone. No one ever touched his art supplies (especially not Gio, and especially not after Nicko once made a joke about cutting off his fingers if he decided to be a thief and take his things), and he was very particular about how it was all organized. So when he realized they weren't where he'd left them, even in his drunken stupor, he could tell that something was wrong. So he looked around more, and he was missing more than just his brushes. His room had basically been ransacked, and he didn't know how he hadn't noticed before just then. So he rushed back out to the kitchen, where Ben and Salem were both standing around talking.

When he opened the liquor cabinet (for the second time in the last hour, and he wondered again how he had failed to notice something so important) he was missing a bottle of vodka and the jar of cash he and Rory secretly added to for party funds was empty. There was only one other person who knew about it, and then it clicked.

"Nicko," Ben started in careful disdain, "shouldn't we be doing something besides...you know...drinking?"

"Gio didn't run away."

Salem scoffed at him. "Right. Why would he want to run away from you?"

Nicko shook his head, trying to rub some of the stress out of his face. "No, you idiot. Rory was here. She took my stuff. She took my art shit, she took my cash, she took Gio."

Ben was instantly pale, and Salem stood from his chair and began pacing. It was unspoken, but they were all thinking the same thing, more or less. Rory had a problem, she had ever since they all met sophomore year at a party, and she had never downplayed it or try to make it less obvious. Sober Rory was a rare occasion, despite at some point everyone telling her she should at least talk to someone, go to a meeting, go to rehab. So at some point, their persistence fizzled out and they stopped trying so hard, and she was happier that way, anyway. Nicko had tried a few times to give her somewhat of an intervention, but in the end he decided the only thing he had the power to do was be there with her, whatever she decided to do. Yeah, because you could be all the help she needed? You, the garbage person? Right.

Nicko spent the rest of that night, all the way through morning, driving to places she might be. Her friends hadn't heard from her in days, they'd said, and the dealer that they had been going to together said she'd stopped by the night Nicko kicked her out and bought some weed. After that, he drove up and down neighborhoods all over the city looking for her car. But he had no luck, and he returned home the next morning without Gio or any idea where he was.

Over the course of the next two weeks, Nicko starting failing his classes. He couldn't bring himself to care much about his assignments when Gio was still missing, somewhere with Rory, probably being pumped with whatever she was using. Don't forget that it's your fault. He's gone because of you're shitty decisions.

He also got fired from his apprentice at the tattoo shop, the blonde he was working on didn't particularly like him running out on her and not finishing her piece, and his boss didn't like it either. He couldn't really bring himself to care that much about it. His job, his school, none of that was important to him anymore. Not as important as Giovanni, who was his responsibility and was probably miserable and scared because of him.

So he mostly stayed hidden in his room, starting paintings but never finishing them, tattooing senseless things on himself out of boredom, laying in bed doing nothing. He drove around a lot, too, looking for anything that would tell him where Rory was. He got pulled over three times, he spent a ridiculous amount of money on gas, and he never found Gio.

The guilt was suffocating. Every morning when he woke up alone in his bed he was reminded that Gio was missing, and then again when he got up and saw his empty beanbag, and knowing that he wasn't there because Nicko hadn't kept a good enough eye on him was crushing.

At some point, even Salem noticed how much Gio being gone was eating Nicko up, because he grudgingly came into his room one night, hovering in the doorway, asking Nicko if he was ok. Nicko was sitting on his bed, eyes droopy from however much booze he'd had that day, and for the first time since Salem had known him, he looked painfully human.

"I was responsible for him," Nicko admitted, "if Rory hurts him...if something bad happens to him..." He didn't finish his thought, but Salem had an idea of what he was going to say: that it would be his fault.

"Nicko, whatever Rory does is not up to you. You've done everything you can to find him, that's all that you can do." It was strange for him to be comforting Nicko, of all people, especially after he had found out that he'd assaulted Gio and left him outside in the cold until he got sick. After that, whatever little respect Salem had for Nicko was gone, and now it was being replaced by pity.

But Nicko didn't want his pity, he didn't want to be comforted by anyone. He didn't deserve that. So he told Salem to get out, to just leave him alone. Only Salem, stupid, relentlessly nice Salem refused to leave, and instead he crossed the room and sat down next to him on his bed.

"He likes you a lot, Nicko. Did you know that?"

Nicko did know, unfortunately. He vividly remembered one of the nights when Gio was sick, when he turned over in bed and pressed himself close to Nicko and told him he was his favorite, that it hurt him when he couldn't be around him all the time. And now he was gone. And it was Nicko's fault. "Yeah, I know. He's sort of dumb in that way, isn't he?"

Salem laughed at him, mostly because he didn't know when Nicko became so self aware. "No, I don't think so. I think he's just miraculously good at seeing the best parts of people. He likes Rory, too. Even after...you know, even though she got him high all the time." Nicko let out a long, heavy sigh, and Salem followed suit. "I'm telling you that because he knows that none of this is your fault. I mean, to him, you fucking walk on water. You couldn't ever do anything wrong. So, wherever he is, he isn't blaming you. No one here is blaming you either."

Nicko didn't believe him, but he didn't have the energy to argue against him. So instead, he just said "ok", and then Salem left. Nicko spent the next twenty or so minutes drinking and sketching lazily, dragging pencils across a paper only as a means to distract himself. Everything he drew was ugly, every drink tasted awful, life was miserable. He thought back to what Salem had said, that Gio liked him a lot, and then he thought again of Gio whispering in the dark, "you're my favorite person, Nicko," and his heart broke all over again. He trusted you and you put him in danger. He liked you and you didn't even fucking care, you god awful garbage person.

He was pulled out of his spiraling, self hating thoughts by a knock at the front door. He almost wanted to ignore it, didn't want to ever see or speak to anyone ever again, knowing he would probably end up hurting whoever it was in the end anyway, like he did to everyone he'd ever been around. But then he decided against it, and he stumbled down the hallway with his beer still in hand.

Giovanni sank to his knees in the same instant that Nicko opened the door, so fast that Nicko didn't even realize it was him at first. Only when Gio looked up at him from his place on the snowy porch and started to choke out a familiar sounding apology did it click that it was him. He looked awful, his pale skin peppered with small scrapes and his neck littered with what looked like hickeys, the usual bags under his eyes were an even darker shade of purple, his lips were cracked and bloody, and his face had hollowed out dramatically.

"I'm so s-s-sorry that I left, Nicko," he was rushing out, tears threatening to fall from his frightened round eyes, "ple...please forgive me, sir, please take m-me back-"

Then, Nicko was on his knees too, reaching out to take Gio's face in his hands, frowning at him when he flinched away just a little. Once Nicko's hands were on him, he really couldn't hold back the tears anymore, staring at Nicko as they slipped down his face and onto Nicko's hands. He was afraid at Nicko's silence, he would prefer for him to just start yelling already so that they could get the punishment over with and Gio could maybe be allowed to sleep after. He was exhausted. But Nicko only kept staring at him, almost in disbelief.

Then, as if he remembered that Gio was still outside, kneeling in a pile of snow, he stood up and pulled Gio carefully to his feet, helping him across the threshold so he could shut the door and keep the cold out. Once he was inside, and upright, Nicko got a better look at him, and he was physically upset at how rough he looked. Then he noticed how badly Gio was shaking, and how he was fidgeting with the hem of his shirt nervously as he stared at Nicko. He realized then that he hadn't said anything, and Gio had apologized because he thought he was in trouble, so Nicko being completely silent was probably freaking him out. Gio let out a soft whine when Nicko stepped closer and pulled him against his chest.

"I was so worried about you, Gio," he whispered, swaying side to side, "I looked all over...I'm so sorry I let her get you. I'm so sorry."

Before Gio could even begin to protest the apology, Salem came down the hallway and gasped when he saw Gio all wrapped up in Nicko's arms. "You came back?" He breathed. Gio nodded as much as he could in Nicko's snug embrace. Nicko pulled away then, brushing Gio's hair out of his face and looking at him with a frown.

"Come on, let's get you some food. Anything you want." He pulled Gio behind him into the kitchen, forcing him to sit in a chair. Gio was confused, wasn't sure why he wasn't being berated with pain and cruel words for running off and being gone for so long. He watched as Nicko looked through the fridge, then jumped when the chair next to him screeched against the hardwood floor as Salem sat down.

"Are you ok?" He asked Gio softly, a concerned frown on his face. Gio was happy to see his kind face, but the question made his heart lurch uncomfortably in his chest. He wasn't ok, his body ached all over, everything felt uncomfortably fuzzy and far away from the drugs that hadn't worn off yet, his fatigue was so bad he felt like sobbing every time he had to move his tired muscles. More than anything he was confused, like always, and it was much too difficult to try and figure out why Nicko was being nice to him and trying to give him food like a reward when he had run away and been gone for so long.

"You want pizza, Gio?" Nicko called from the freezer, already pulling out a frozen pizza and setting it on the counter. Gio didn't answer either of their questions, it felt like his any words that he wanted to say were shards of broken glass on his tongue, and it would only hurt him and everyone around him if he started to talk. It was mostly because his mind was a mess of racing thoughts about Rory and Oscar and all the awful things they did to him and how badly it hurt and how scared he was and how horrible he felt for worrying Nicko.

His silence made them both uneasy, and Nicko set the pizza box down with a thud on the table in front of Gio, then he crouched down next to him, placing his hand on his thigh. Giovanni squeezed his eyes shut in response, Nicko noticed his shoulders began to rise and fall quicker in his uneven breathing.

"What's wrong, darling?" Nicko tried, keeping his voice soft and level. Gio cringed, turning his face away from him. "Talk to me, Gio. Please."

Giovanni let out a tiny whimper, shaking his head. Salem and Nicko shared a nervous glance. Salem shrugged his shoulders hopelessly, not sure how to comfort Gio or make him talk anymore than Nicko did.

So, without any other idea of what to do, Nicko reached up and tilted Gio's face towards him, even though he didn't open his eyes. "Gio, I can't help you feel better if you don't tell me what's wrong. I want to help you but you have to tell me how."

Now, Gio opened his eyes, his frown deepening when he looked at Nicko. Within half a second his eyes were overflowing with tears and his shaking went from a tiny shiver to violent tremors up and down his body. "I...I don't know what's wrong." He admitted. His voice was a hoarse whisper, and Nicko pulled his hand away from his face after he spoke. Gio burst into tears just then, tilting his head down as he sobbed out weakly. "I'm s-sorry, I'm so so stupid I'm so f-fucking stupid I'm-"

Nicko shut him up by standing up and wrapping his arms around him again, pulling his head against his stomach and petting through his hair softly. Salem watched them with his hand over his mouth, obviously troubled at Gio's hysteria. "It's ok, Gio," Nicko soothed him, "you're not stupid. I'm not upset with you. I just want to help."

Gio wasn't really listening, couldn't hear anything over his ragged breathing and his sobs that were muffled by Nicko's clothes. When Nicko realized he wasn't going to calm down like that, he pulled off of him, looking down at his tears stained face. It's all your fault he's crying right now. Look at how broken he is because of you.

"You're not stupid, Giovanni. You hear me?"

The sternness to Nicko's voice snapped Gio out of it a little, he forced his mouth closed and nodded up at him reflexively. Then, Nicko sighed softly and turned away from him altogether. He grabbed the pizza, busying himself with that instead of having to look at how ruined he made Gio. He was only turned away for a minute or two before Salem cleared his throat.

"Um, Nicko?" He said. "I don't think he's really hungry."

When Nicko turned to see what Salem was talking about, and Gio had his head rested against the table, passed out cold. Nicko hadn't thought that he might be tired, and he felt like an asshole for not even checking with him. With a huff, he turned off the oven and threw the pizza carelessly back into the freezer. When Nicko picked Gio up he didn't even stir, completely limp when Nicko scooped him out of the chair and pulled him against his chest.

Seeing Gio back in his bed was more relieving than Nicko had anticipated, and once he was curled up under the covers all Nicko could do was stare at him. He was broken and banged up and looked seconds away from death in a lot of ways, but Nicko felt like he'd never seen anything as beautiful as Gio passed out under his covers. Suddenly, the art block he'd had since Gio had been gone dissipated, and Nicko was as quiet as he could be as he got out a canvas and what little art supplies Rory left him with.

Hours later, Gio woke up to find Nicko asleep next to him, covered in splotches of paint on his face and hands and all over his clothes. He sat up just a little, and then noticed the huge painting across the room. Through the dark he couldn't tell what it was, but it made him smile nonetheless. With a yawn, he layed back down, a little closer to Nicko than he was when he woke up. When Nicko reached out and grabbed onto his hand, Gio tensed up just a little, only until he laced his fingers in between Gio's and held onto his hand gently. Gio looked up at him only to see him still peacefully sleeping, and he realized he probably thought he was someone else, maybe Rory. Still, Gio happily pushed himself closer, resting his head against Nicko's shoulder and keeping his grip on his hand tight.

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pearl-blue-musings · 4 years ago

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Perchance to Meet pt. 3

whoops is it time for a little bit of angst??? i think it’s time for a little bit of angst.

warnings: cussing, suggestive language, attempted assault, sexual assault, stalking, unwanted advantages,smut, angst, another smut warning cause i haven’t written smut in a HOT minute, please 18+ cannot stress that enough

masterlist for my writing

Part 4

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

One date had turned into three which sprouted into many many more. Despite having challenging schedules, the two new found lovers made time for each other. Aizawa didn’t really think he’d get a chance like this but here he is, standing outside the bookstore he frequents as often as he can with a tiny goofy grin on his face.

“Sorry, I hope I didn’t keep you waiting too long.”

He stutters out a response upon seeing the outfit his girlfriend decided to wear. It wasn’t an easy thing to squeeze out of the man, but after the fifth date and the first time she spent the night at his place the couple made it official. Even his co-workers couldn’t believe the sleepy man had a girlfriend on top of everything he already does… But here she is, wearing one of his favorite outfits of hers as they meet up for a brief date.

“I was about to drop dead if I had to wait any longer,” he whispers as he leans in to give her a chaste kiss on the lips. “I love the way you look tonight.”

(Y/n) looks away embarrassed. Even though they had been dating for over three months now, she still couldn’t get used to Shouta’s flirting and downright cuteness. “T-thank you, Sho. I’m glad you get a few hours before your patrol shift starts.” She looks to him with bright and eager eyes that he could get lost in forever. “So, where are we going?”

It takes a little willpower in Aizawa to hold back a smirk as he enjoys the view of her impatience adorn her features. He’s not sure who will be more excited for the date, him or her.

“You’ll see,” he snickers. Her eyes roll as they stroll along the street. The setting sun ahead of them litters the sky with beautiful purples and oranges; a few clouds line the skies giving the world around them an ethereal feel.

They continue to walk for about ten more minutes, having mindless conversation about anything and everything, from how he’s going to be a homeroom teacher for the next year, how she wants to add a café portion to her bookstore to draw in more people and have more income, it flows seamlessly.

Soon they stop at a store front that is unfamiliar to the woman. Once she sees that her lover has stopped, she looks to the sign and suddenly her face lights up.

“Shouta, shut up are you serious?”

He leans down to her ear, “we’ve walked by this before and I’ve always noticed how your eyes linger here. So I got us reservations.”

The sparkle in her eye is unfazed as the grin on her face only gets wider.

“A cat café!? Shouta, I can’t- I mean you took me? Here? God, you’re amazing! I just-“ she ends her sentence by pulling him by his jacket collar and kissing him lovingly. After his initial shock, he cups her face with his warm hands and deepens the kiss. The feel of his lips on hers is a sense she never wants to tire of; she’s practically addicted to it already.

Aizawa hesitantly pulls away, “as much as I’d like to continue that, we don’t wanna miss our reservation, Kitten.” He kisses her on the cheek and pulls her inside the establishment. Once inside, the couple gets swept up in the ambiance of the place. (Y/n) had an inkling that this date wasn’t just to make you happy, but to make a certain cat lover of a man next her happy too. She had picked up on his love of cats and strays on their other dates and she may or may not attempt to adopt one of the cats as a surprise.

Two hours went by too quickly in the couples opinion, but they had to sadly leave. Their stomachs and hearts full, the two begin their walk back to the bookstore. A deep voice breaks the content silent. “I really don’t want to go on patrol tonight.” (Y/n)’s eyebrows furrow at his statement and silently urges Aizawa to continue. “I want to keep looking at you like this. So happy and content… I wish our schedules weren’t so crazy.”

“I do too,” she breathes, “but that’s how it is and I get it. I mean, we both know each other at this point and know that we’re busy. It’s life, we do what we love and hopefully someone will be there with us you know…”

The momentum of the conversation slows as they reach the bookstore. The words she wishes to say fill up her lungs begging to burst from her lips as she stares at the pre hero before. She gulps whatever anxiety she has and blurts out the words she’s wanted to say all night.

“I love you.”

Black eyes widen at the proclamation and then soften once he sees the shyness and slight fear (Y/n) poses in front of him. He steps up to her, staring at her lips then back to the eyes he can get lost in forever and whispers, “I know, I love you too Kitten,” and softly kisses her lips.

***************************************

“Hey, it’s (Y/n), I mean, yeah it’s me… But where are you? I’ve been waiting outside the club for about 10 minutes now. I know your patrol ended half an hour ago. Just call me back okay?”

(Y/n) grouchily hangs up the phone and pouts. She knew he was out late which is why she wanted him to pick her up from work so she could spend the weekend at his apartment. Aizawa had just finished the first week of school as the new 1-A homeroom teacher and his girlfriend knew he would need sometime to relax. Begrudgingly, of course.

She looks to her phone again and sees that it’s approaching 2:30 in the morning. Normally she doesn’t take closing shifts because of the bookstore, but wanted to align her schedule with Aizawa’s for some time together. After almost a year don’t you think he would have been a little more considerate of this fact? This wasn’t easy for her with the new café being added to her store and having to hire new employees; she needed this one little thing.

“Fuck it, I’m walking by myself.”

Clearly a bad idea. Blissfully unaware, she sullenly walked away from her second job and toward Aizawa’s apartment. The city at night wasn’t always the safest and she knew that, but she had been waiting for more than 20 minutes for Aizawa to show and he hadn’t so she took matters into her own hand. She kept her bag close to her body as she sped walk, attempting to keep her roaring thoughts at bay.

Her phone buzzes which halts her mind, and herself, and she stops in her path. She reaches in a sees a text from him saying “omw”. That’s it? And just now? Barely being on her way, she decides to turn around and go back to their original meeting place.

Bad idea number two. Roughly, she bumps into a stiff being and trips back a few steps. In front of her is a man in a long coat and hat, covering most of his identity. “Excuse me,” she mutters past him, but is abruptly stopped when his hand grips her forearm.

“You don’t remember me.”

“Sir, let go of me.”

“Why don’t you remember me?!”

Panic rising in her, (Y/n) begins to struggle against her assailant. “Sir I have no idea what you want from me! Please let me go.”

The man, clearly hysterical, pulls her into a nearby alley and slams her against the brick wall. The woman winces in pain and tries her best to not cry in front of this stranger. “Please, just take my bag… Don’t hurt me!”

“…Why don’t you remember me? You served me for months at the club. Months! You always made my favorite drink, always made me feel better. I love you (Y/F/n)! I always gave you extra tips when I came in and now I find that you’re thinking of quitting?! Is there someone else? I left my wife like you said I should because I wasn’t happy!”

The more the man rambles, the more she starts to remember. He went by the name Shuichi Oda and from what she gathered had a rough night. Obviously a drunk, it seems like things haven’t been going well for him. She remembers having some brief conversations with him to make her patron feel better but… Damn it! She knew that this was the downside of her quirk, some people took it too personally.

“Look, Shuichi-“

“You do remember me!” He exclaims and pulls her into an unneeded hug and starts to pet her hair. “I’ve been waiting for you to be alone for quite some time. Your quirk made me feel better. You, made me feel better.”

“You don’t know what you’re saying,” she shakily tries to reason, “I’m just a bartender. It’s my job to make people feel better.”

The man hits his head with his fist, frightening the woman. “No! With you, it’s different, see?” After he says he leans in to sloppily kiss her, holding her still against the wall behind her. His hands begin to roam in places they shouldn’t which make tears start to form in her eyes. “Please don’t cry,” he wipes a tear from her face but she moves out of his reach. “Don’t be scared, I love you. And you’re gonna come with me and be with me forever okay?”

“Please,” she screams, “let me go! I have- mmph!”

“Sh sh sh sh, we can’t have you screaming! Others could hear and try to take you away from me!” The hand he placed over her mouth is now covered in tears from her eyes. She bites at him, but his maniacal smile only gets bigger. “I don’t feel physical pain darling, just emotional.” As soon as he says that, his wandering other hand goes toward her breast and he sighs in contentment. “Oh how I’ve longed for this-“

“That’s enough!”

Soon Shuichi is being thrust into the air. He’s wrapped up in bindings and hanging from a nearby streetlamp. Eyes glowing red stare at the apprehended man and pull the wraps tighter, causing him to cough in pain. Aizawa tugs on the wraps to make the man hit his head on the light and pass out. Luckily some sirens are heard closely as someone walking by heard her scream and called for the police. Aizawa was on his way and followed the direction of the police cars hoping it didn’t involve his lover.

An hour later finds the couple walking into the pro hero’s apartment. A strong silver blanket is still wrapped around (Y/n)’s body as they make their way in. They both take off their shoes and settle in silence as the events of the last hour replay through their minds. They don’t even bother to eat anything and start to get ready for bed. Her pajamas are partially on when he sits down on the bed and mumbles, “why didn’t you wait for me?”

“Hm? What was that?”

Sighing louder, her turns to face her. “I said, why didn’t you wait for me like you were supposed to?”

(Y/n) scoffs as she pulls his shirt down her body. “Are you kidding me? Why didn’t I wait? Why were you late?” Her question came out more forceful than she intended but it had been a very long day. “I rearranged my schedule so then we could get off work around the same time for once. Where the hell were you?”

“Don’t give me that,” he states getting louder, “school went late so I began my patrol late.”

“Would it have killed you to tell me that instead of keeping me waiting?”

“Would it have killed you to wait where I wanted you to? Then maybe tonight wouldn’t have happened.”

Her mouth flew open at his assumption. “Are you saying me getting attacked was my fault?!”

Aizawa rolls his eyes as his frustration grows. “If you had just stayed there and waited I was going to get there.”

“Yeah sure! But did you forget the part where that nutjob has been following me for months? He would’ve gotten to me regardless.”

“That’s because you’re too kind. Letting people think that all their problems and issues will go away with just the right fix!”

“You’re ridiculous!” You yell, “Is that really what you think of me and my quirk? Is that what you think I did to you?” (Y/n) moves around the bed to get face to face with him to prove more of her point.

He stands up off the bed to look down at her. “It could be like that for him or any other guy you’re kind to or use your quirk on. All you had to do was wait!”

“And we’re back to where we fucking started. You were late! What was I supposed to do? Wait for the next guy to come along and fuck me over in the middle of the night?”

“(Y/n) that’s not what I meant and you know it.”

“Oh is it? Then why do you keep putting the blame on whether or not I waited?”

“Look,” he recedes slightly, “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about me being late, but you can’t just walk around by yourself like that!”

“Fuck off, yes I can! I’ve done it before why does it suddenly have to change now?”

“Because I fucking love you, idiot!”

Throats hoarse after the shouting match, black eyes shut as he sinks into the bed. (Y/n)’s conviction begins to falter as she follows him onto the mattress. “Shouta?”

He takes a deep breath in attempt to control himself, “I know I should have told you I was late, I’m sorry. But, I’ve never felt this way about anyone. When you weren’t there, I panicked.” He leans onto her shoulder while she rubs his back soothingly. “I was so scared for you. When I saw him touching you, I saw red.”

(Y/n) breathes deeply taking in his words, “Sho…”

“I don’t want to lose you, or have you be hurt because of me. I’m a pro-hero and a teacher at a prominent school, I’m bound to have some enemies.” He sits up to meet her gaze, holding her face in his hands. “That guy hurt you because of you and I wasn’t there.”

“Sho, it’s not your fault.”

Silence falls over them, letting the weight of their words settle into their beings. He brings her forehead toward his as fresh tears fall from her face wetting his skin.

“Kitty cat, I’m sorry for yelling.”

She kisses him lightly, “Me too.”

He kisses her again, and again, and again, Until the light, chaste kisses become deep and full of lust. Her hands find solace in his hair as her lips grant his tongue entrance. He pulls her closer to him, hoping that she can feel his erection through his pants. The feeling of him grinding against her sleep shorts elicits a moan from her mouth that makes him harder. They break for air, a line of saliva connecting them as their pupils dilate.

“Fuck I wanna keep going but you’ve had a long day.” He tries to pull away from her only to be brought in for another breathless kiss. His hands automatically went to her hips. “Kitten,” he moans into her lips.

“We have the whole weekend for me to treat you right. The whole weekend for you to be screaming my name, calling me daddy,” he smacks her ass at that comment earning a hiss from (Y/n) which ended up making her even more wet. “But we need to sleep.”

“Fuck you Shouta,” she whines. “I wanna fuck you now. I’m already so fucking wet for you and I know your dick is itching to be in my mouth or better yet in me.”

Aizawa grunts at the implications but stays strong. “No, sweetie. As much as I really want to, we gotta sleep.”

“Please I want to forget he touched me so please do something or else-“

At that she’s quickly pinned to the bed with the strong man above her. “Don’t forget,” he whispers, “you asked for this.” He slowly drags her bottoms down her legs, exposing her dripping sex to him. It took everything in him to not move too fast. Once her pj bottoms were thrown across the room, he situates himself between her legs, rubbing his hands up her calf, to her thighs enticingly slow. A pressure is felt on her hips as she’s being held in place by her lovers grip.

On instinct her hips buck slightly, eagerly awaiting what’s to come. The feel of his breath on her inner thigh sends her thoughts into a frenzy, only for him to place his lips around the sensitive skin. His kisses are feather light that they almost don’t feel like they’re there, but she’s reminded as soon as his teeth make contact with her skin. A whine escapes her lips at the action, making Aizawa growl.

“Fuck, kitten, you’re so wet for me.”

“Mhm, ah, only for you Daddy- ah fuck!”

All his restraint came undone at the pet name as he wrapped his lips around her folds, sucking and tonguing her with earnest. The way his tongue would flit in and out of her wet hole drove him crazy; it was like she was made for him and only him. He continues to lap at her folds, already starting to feel the pressure build up within her.

“Don’t tell me you’re gonna cum for Daddy this early, eh? All I’ve done with eat you out and I’m not full. Plus,” he sneaks a finger into making her hiss and cuss, “I don’t think you’ve had your fill yet Kitty cat.”

Her moans and whines are music to his ears as he doesn’t let up his ministrations. Now two fingers deep into her, he begins to scissor her open while sucking on her abused and pronounced clit.

“Ah, fuck Sho. I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum,” (Y/n) is breathless as her back arches off the mattress for the umpteenth time. She can feel him smile against her as he lifts up to face her. “Then cum Kitten, cum for Daddy.” His motions speed up and upon hearing her scream out his name mixed with curses, he lets up. God, she looks beautiful like this. Her body is covered in a glimmering layer of sweat, her stomach moving in time with her rampant breathing as she comes down from her high. No one else will get to see her like this, no one. Aizawa wipes away sweat from her brow and leans in to let her taste herself on his tongue. The action alone is enough to make him want to burst, which he is tempted to do.

“Damn, you’re still so wet and slick for me,” he notes swiping a finger against her to reaffirm.

“Babe, rollover. I wanna ride you.”

The lovely man above her lifts an eyebrow at her request, “as you wish, princess.” He is then forcibly pinned, almost like what happened to her not too long ago. “Fuck, you look so hot from down here babe.” He knows that she needs this, to feel to be in charge and take the lead. So he doesn’t help her line up the tip of his hard cock to her entrance, and he doesn’t push himself up into her like he wants.

A wanton moan escapes his lovers lips as she finally settles herself on his cock. She feels the grumble and twitching from her his dick inside her and the feeling is euphoric. The pro-hero’s breath gets shallower as he waits for her to move on him, again holding himself back from taking charge. Once she starts bouncing on his cock, all he can do is whisper and moan out praises and curses. “Fuck, Kitten. That feels so fucking good.”

“Yeah babe? You like the way I’m riding your cock?”

He hisses, “fuck yeah. Please do it more- unf.”

Suddenly he feels a new and ecstatic feeling as she gyrates her hips in ways that have him seeing stars. He’s trying to figure out if there’s some kind of pattern. And then it hits him.

“You spelling your name on my cock, yeah?”

A gasp for air is heard from both of them before she responds, “I’m just, ah, letting you know who this belongs to baby.”

“Ah fuck, Kitten, I’m gonna cum soon. But first,” his voice lowers as he grabs her breast in his hand. His thumb flicks over her nipple, earning another moan before he wraps his lips around it. His tongue continues to work the hardening bud as his hand kneads her mound. His free hand works its way to her clit and begins to rub it fiercely.

“Fuck Shouta, if you keep doing that…”

A slick pop is heard as black eyes bore into lust filled ones. “I know Kitten, we’re so close. Come on, let Daddy cum. Let me cum inside baby.” “Yes, yes ah fuck- FUCK!”

The melodious sound of moans and whimpers fill the once noiseless bedroom as the couple comes down from their highs. They fall onto each other, sweat covered and full of love for each other. Their breathing starts to slow the more they wait out, still being connected by their sexes. (Y/n) is the first to move as she slowly removes herself from her boyfriends embrace, whining at the loss of contact. Aizawa leans up slightly to take in her form and beauty.

“I’ll go grab a towel and some water.”

He pecks her cheek and leaves the room. Once he returns, he sees (Y/n) and fondly smiles. She had finally fallen asleep after everything was said and done. He rolls his eyes but continues to clean up their little mess. He leaves her water glass on her nightstand while he had finished his.

Aizawa pulls the covers over the two of them as he cuddles into his girlfriend, watching her sleep soundly. She looks ethereal right now, no problems or stress on her features.

“I swear I will protect you. Whatever it takes.”

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

ha ha hahahahaha it’s so long whoops but yee if the option is there the taglist is open! @kiribaku-queen @shinsouskitten @therealwalmartjesus @prk-pyo @cupcake-rogue

#i did the thing #my writing #perchance #aizawa x y/n #shouta aizawa #aizawa x reader #bnha x reader #bnha reader insert #bnha aizawa #bnha x y/n #aizawa shouta

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kayparker20 · 4 years ago

Text

Let Me Love You

Alright so this is what I’ve been working on for the past week! I hope you enjoy

Summary: Shikamaru never planned to fall for Ino’s best friend, and he definitely never planned to do about it. When he insisted on training with her, he just wanted to make her happy, how does he end up asking to kiss her? He’s surprised to find her heart might have room for him afterall. Lemon.

FFN | AO3

Shikamaru laid on his back on the grass, finally enjoying a bit of relaxation after training with Asuma. He sat back and watched the clouds. Something that always brought him comfort, he always grasped what shred of laziness he could spare these days. Oftentimes now, he took this time to think, instead of blankly staring at the clouds. He reminisced about some of the past times in his life, and how he never got to do this much anymore. Sometimes he thought back on training sessions, and what his squad needed to work on, or tried to think of new formations they could make with their jutsu. Really, at least this time, he was thinking about a certain girl, once again. She was slowly invading his thoughts the last couple weeks, despite how troublesome he found most women.

He thought about all the things that have happened to his team, the Rookie 9, and to her. The Third Hokage was assassinated by his own student. Sasuke took off after the chunin exams to pursue Orochimaru. He even left her unconscious on a bench. Naruto was off training with Jiraiya, with the promise to bring back the person she loved. Kakashi had continually taken long term missions, and seemingly abandoned her to deal with the pain alone. She seemed almost in a limbo, even while she was under the instruction of the Godaime.

He thought more and more about the way things have turned out for his classmates. He could never imagine trying to kill Asuma. Or to leave Ino crying for him, let alone on a bench in the middle of the night. Even if he was well aware the bothersome blonde had no romantic feelings for him, he still couldn’t picture breaking someone like Sasuke had done to Sakura Haruno. How he created so much self-doubt in Naruto. He felt bitter towards the ninja who didn’t even witness the pain he inflicted upon people that Shikamaru was now close to. He could never understand how Sasuke thought power and revenge was more important than his own team.

More important than Sakura. When he had left, there was something in her that broke. He knew it had been her heart, you could see it in the way her smiles hardly reached her eyes anymore. In the way she carried herself now, she seemed to try and keep her emotions more hidden, except for when she was angry or truly hurt. He never realized how much he loved her smile, until she stopped smiling.

Somewhere along the way, Ino had managed to get them to hang out one time. She made an off hand comment about Sakura needing to spend more time with smart people, and joked that he should teach her how to play shogi. When Sakura smiled even as she chastised her friend for getting in her business, he couldn’t resist the idea. Besides, it wouldn’t hurt to have another person to play shogi with, being as his Dad was ever busy, and Asuma couldn’t play as often now. Jounin ninja ever since the attack almost always had a directive from the Fifth if they weren’t training an up-coming squad of ninja.

He sighed softly before resting his eyes and clearing his head. He could never quite truly clear it of the colours of rosy pink hair and teal coloured eyes. How it felt the past few weeks to just be in her presence. How smart she was, as he soon found out when they played a game of shoji. He knew she had been top of her class, but there’s a difference in memorizing information, and being able to think out the moves to make in any situation. They had fallen into a routine of playing a game or two weekly, and it seemed he only fell even further for her as he spent more time with her.

Memories of her flitted through his mind, like the way she chewed her bottom lip when she thought about her next move. Or how she felt in his arms when she would tackle him after he let her win, complaining that it wasn’t a real win if he allowed it. How the smell of her jasmine perfume invaded his senses when she had been so close to him. The musical sound of her laughter. The small smiles that had formed on her face, genuine even if they didn’t reach her eyes.

He sighed and shook his head once again. What a drag, he was supposed to be relaxing and yet he couldn’t relax when he thought about her.

Of course, leave it to him to end up in the troublesome situation of falling for the girl who already had her sights set on someone else. He wouldn’t be so arrogant to think he could sway her feelings, it seemed childish almost to try and change it. No matter how much he knew Sasuke didn’t deserve even an ounce of the friendship or love that Naruto and Sakura held for him so strongly.

He stood up from his spot and sighed before he heard shuffling. He turned his head towards the noise before finding the very being of his thoughts, standing there with her leather gloves on, clearly coming to train. She had this look of determination on her face, but there was a twinge of disappointment in her eyes.

“Oh, hey Shikamaru!” She smiled softly. “It’s okay, I’ll find another training ground! I wouldn’t want to intrude on your cloud watching.” She turned to leave.

She had only just got here, he didn’t want her to leave yet.

He inwardly scrambled for something to say to stop her too-soon departure.“Sakura, do you have a training partner?” He jogged towards her. “You usually have Tsunade with you don’t you?” He inquired.

He realized how lame that might have sounded, or maybe even rubbing salt into the wound of her disappointment since Tsunade was clearly absent today.

Was there even a way to have a strategy for love, and trying to gain it?

Sakura laughed nervously. “She’s got a lot of hokage business today. And, you know Naruto is gone and Kakashi-sensei is on yet another mission…” There was a tinge of sadness in her voice as she explained herself even further.

He knew no ninja cared for pity, and he didn’t want to come off that way. But he also knows training by yourself only gets you so far. And that she hated to be alone. He tried for a casual smile towards her before shrugging his shoulders. He really did try to be there for his friends, and the sadness in her voice made it clear she wasn’t thrilled about the situation. “Well, I’ll train with you today. I’m not busy or anything.”

Sakura's eyes widened. “Oh, no you don’t have to, Shikamaru!” She looked off to the side a bit. “I know you were cloud watching, really, I don’t want to interrupt.”

“Nah, I was just finished. Come on, you only gain so much from training alone. What were you going to work on today?”

Sakura couldn’t help the shy smile that graced her lips then. She looked up at Shikamaru, meeting his chocolate eyes this time. “I was going to work on taijutsu. Tsunade is teaching me how to channel chakra into my attacks to make them stronger. I also need to learn to dodge better…”

Ino had gone to Sakura’s after training to find she was gone. She imagined she may have been training with Tsunade, so she picked up some food and headed back to the training grounds. She was surprised to find Sakura alone, without Tsunade approaching the training ground she had left only 20 minutes ago. And then she smiled as she realized Shikamaru was still there, and was probably cloud watching.

Shika hadn’t said anything but she had noticed how he seemed to glance at Sakura just a little longer these days whenever they ran into her friend as a team. Or how sometimes he seemed concerned about her being left behind by her team, asking why nothing was done about it. Asuma gave a knowing smile when he mentioned it, and told him that he could do something about it if he felt so concerned about it.

This really turned into Ino doing something about it because Shikamaru just huffed at his response, and only Ino noticed the slightest tinge of pink in his face he had that day. Ino started inviting Sakura to train with them occasionally then, before one day insisting they start to hang out. Really, she just wanted to see both of them happy.

She got a little closer so she could hear when they spoke. When Shikamaru suggested he train with her, Ino beamed. There’s no one else she would ever trust to be so kind to Sakura, it was why she had set them up a few weeks back. She was surprised he went out of his way to do it, considering he wasn’t usually one to volunteer himself. All the more proof showing he had some sort of affection for her. She ran off to tell Choji, giggling with delight all the while to find him.

Sakura and Shikamaru had been sparring for about half an hour at this point, just exchanging blows. It wasn’t without the occasional snide comments to each other, as Sakura loved to chat.

Sakura smirked softly before landing a kick to his side. “You know, it’s not really training when you go easy on me, Shikamaru.”

He raised an eyebrow at her before shaking his head. “You’re just as troublesome as Ino. Why do you think I’m going easy on you?” But he smiled even just slightly as he said it. “I’m not, but I’m not trying to actually hurt you either, woman.”

He grabbed hold of her leg when she went to kick him again and pushed it to the side in an attempt to make her lose balance.

“I’m not fragile. Tsunade hits me with chakra punches, I think I can handle your normal ones.” She chided as she caught herself from falling. She lunged at him, going for his side when he grabbed her wrist and twisted, bringing her arm behind her.

She felt how firm his chest was against her arm and back but tried to shake away those invasive little thoughts that crossed her mind.

“Taijutsu isn’t my strong suit, I’m more of a ranged shinobi, as I’m sure you should know already.”

She tensed slightly as she felt his breath brush across her neck as he spoke. She nodded. “Ah, yes that’s right.” She smirked and hooked her foot behind his ankle and pulled, sending him to the ground as she turned and crossed her arms. “Perhaps this is good training for both of us then.”

He landed flat on his back, surprised by her move. He looked up at her and was caught for a moment at the sight of her. She stood, staring down at him with a happy glint in her turquoise eyes he hadn’t seen for at least two years. Her hair reached a little past her shoulders now as it blew around in the slight breeze. Her hips were cocked to one side as she gazed at him with amusement even though her arms were crossed. She had a thin sheen of sweat that glistened across her skin, and it did nothing but add to his attraction. It had caught him off guard, but she looked beautiful in that moment, especially with the clouds behind her as a backdrop.

She watched as Shikamaru seemed to gaze at her for a little bit longer before she felt heat rushing to her face. “H-Hey, what are you looking at?” She snapped.

“You have a pretty smile…” He said without really thinking.

Oh man, this is about to be a drag.

He quickly stood up as his own face became dusted with a light shade of pink. He rubbed the back of his head. “I mean…” He trailed off, not quite sure how to dig himself out of this one.

Sakura only became more flustered. “I...oh?” She bit the inside of her cheek nervously, not sure what to say. “Thank you…” She gave a shy smile.

He returned with his own sheepish smile. “I… uh. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I know that you…” He didn’t know if bringing up Sasuke was a good idea he realized as he trailed off.

Sakura took a step closer and set a reassuring hand on his chest. “You didn’t make me uncomfortable at all, Shika. Thank you…” She looked up at him and she was smiling so brightly, it reached her eyes which were so warm now. “It means a lot to me, actually.”

He watched her for a moment, before wishing he knew how to handle this situation a little better. Really, everyone knew her heart was out to Sasuke, so was there really a point in trying? But her hand was on his chest and she was smiling at him so tenderly, so what did that mean for him?

Since when did he feel strongly enough to want to try?

It had to be her smile, and how he had been the one to make her that happy. He brought a hand up to cup one side of her face as he made eye contact with her. “Sakura, you do know you look beautiful, right?” He said softly.

Her lack of confidence in herself made no sense to him, but he had to try. She was a stunning kunoichi all around in his eyes.

She blushed even deeper now before staring into his dark brown eyes. She wasn’t used to someone being so close. And it was a bit of a shock coming from Shikamaru.

But now some of Ino’s odd behaviour started making sense, like how every time she went out with Team 10, she somehow ended up sitting next to Shikamaru instead of Ino, and the couple times she trained with them, she ended up paired with him. Or when she tried to ask her about dating that one time.

She gazed into his eyes, seeing how warm and inviting they were as he looked at her so tenderly. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she compared it to the coldness that she always found in Sasuke’s gaze, but it seemed so distant now. It made her nervous all the same.

“I...uh.” she stuttered nervously.

She would have been lying if she tried to act like Shikamaru wasn’t attractive. She was flustered at the sudden attention he seemed to be paying attention to her, or was it so sudden? Had he looked at her like that before and she just didn’t notice? It made her feel giddy and nervous to be the object of his piercing gaze. It felt like he could see right through her. She could never tell what he was thinking, but he was clear enough in voicing he liked what he saw. She chewed on the inside of her cheek, not sure what to say, thinking his hands felt nice even if they were a little calloused.

She began thinking of how he has always made her feel like she mattered the last few weeks, how this lazy genius she calls her friend always made time for her. How gentle he seemed to be holding her at this exact moment, and the awe in his gaze when he was on the ground moments ago when he looked up at her.

She gently gripped his shirt with the hand that still rested on his chest as she felt him lean closer, anticipating what she thought, and ever dared hope what was coming next.

He took a step closer and leaned in towards her slightly. “Can I kiss you?” He spoke the question so softly as he slowly moved his hand to thread into her hair. He didn’t want to make her feel pressured. “You don’t have to say ye-”

And he felt soft lips just barely brush his own. His eyes slid closed as he brought his other hand to her hip, and deepened the kiss just a bit. Her hands moved to wrap around his neck. It was timid and shy, clearly the first for her(not to his surprise), but it was so sweet and gentle.

His face felt like it was on fire as he pulled back a bit. He gazed at her, surprise clear in his chocolate shaded eyes, but also something akin to delight.

She stared back up at Shikamaru, her lips still just barely parted. She could feel his chest against her own, how surprisingly toned he was compared to how lithe he looked. She could smell the layer of sweat that shined off his skin in the sun from their sparring moments ago. She took comfort in how firm yet gentle his grip on her was. It felt nice to be close to someone, she thought to herself, as she smiled up at him.

“Sakura… ” He pulled his hand back from her pink tresses to rest on her cheek. “I don’t mean to be a drag, but I… ” He stumbled for words, how do you even begin this conversation? Is the kiss enough, does he have to voice it?

“I liked it…” She spoke softly, before looking over him once more. “How...long?” Her eyes were full of curiosity, and happiness.

“Awhile…” He sighed. “I’ve always been concerned about you since everything happened, and especially since Naruto left. You were always…” He didn’t know what to say. He didn’t want to insult her, especially because he was well aware she had a killer punch once she was angry. “Alone.”

“I always found myself wanting to comfort you, to be there for you.” He laughed nervously. “Emotions are such a drag, you know? I don’t know how to explain them very well…”

She bit her lip softly. “Shika…” She placed both her hands against the sides of his face.

“And I mean, who am I compared to Sasuke?” He gave a half smile as he stroked her cheekbone with his thumb. “Competitions are immature, especially ones you know you can’t win…”

A flash of guilt went through her aquamarine hues and she looked away.

She knew not everyone cared as deeply for Sasuke as her and Naruto, that most people saw him as a traitor now. Most people didn’t understand. But Shikamaru always understood, even if he didn’t agree with it.

It wasn’t a secret to her and Naruto. She knew that even though the rest of the Rookie 9 respected them enough to keep their opinions to themselves, and even help try to bring him back, that most of them were bitter towards the Uchiha. Who could blame them, when they were the ones that had to witness the pain her and Naruto felt all the time. No one could like someone who hurt people they cared about.

Shikamaru frowned, instantly regretting his words. He gently turned her face back towards him. “Sakura, that’s not how I meant that…” He sighed even deeper. “I just… I know you love him, so why would I tell you how I feel, it wouldn’t change that, and it wouldn’t change us, now would it?”

She stared at Shikamaru in wonder. He was so full understanding, not a hint of the judgement she was used to when in regards to Sasuke. He always was, but at this moment, she had begun fearing he would get angry and turn away. He hadn’t, he had only held on more, giving her more honesty and it made her heart swell more with the little bit of feelings she had started developing for him recently.

Shikamaru was here, and Sasuke wasn’t. He made her feel wanted, and the time she had spent with him lately were becoming some of the happier moments she had now. She wondered that as time went, if she would ever even pine for the vengeful raven anymore, as she slowly fell for the genius.

Shikamaru was looking at her so tenderly, but there was a hint of sadness in those eyes that suddenly reminded her of coffee in the late mornings they shared a couple of times over games of shoji.

“What if I said it could…?” She whispered to more herself than him. But he was a shinobi just like she was, and he had definitely heard it.

“Sakura..?”

“You…” She struggled to find words that didn’t sound awkward or cheesy. “I… don’t feel so alone when I’m with you. I feel happy.”

Shikamaru stared at her for another moment before kissing her again.

Sakura gasped softly into the kiss before returning it eagerly. She rested her hands on the sides of his neck as various things fled through her little pink head. They were fast and fleeting but somehow still focused as she moved her mouth against his, not exactly smoothly as it was now her only second kiss.

Shikamaru, the one who said women are such a drag, was kissing her. He had done everything but outright confess to her.

She felt her heart beating out of her chest as butterflies seemed to fill her stomach.

His body felt hard against hers, or maybe he was just tense.

She wanted this, wanted him.

She liked the way he embraced her, tight enough to express he didn’t want her to go, but gentle enough that she could have pulled away if she had wanted to.

Shikamaru was here and cared about her and her day and her feelings and even her damn training.

Her face burned with a hot blush.

And the most apparent thought, she liked every bit of it.

She hummed as Shikamaru seemed to grow a little more confident as he swiped his tongue along her bottom lip. She timidly parted her lips for him, moving one of her hands to his hair, almost daring to tug the strands out of its hold, curious about what it looked like when it was down. He pulled her closer, her body pressed right up against his, as he swirled his tongue around her own. His grip on her hips tightened before he raised one hand to gently tilt her head and thread his fingers into her hair, giving him better access.

She pulled away with a soft gasp, needing air to breathe from. “Shika…” She panted softly before looking up at him. She caught his eyes and was surprised by the intensity that she found in them. She bit her lip nervously as she tried to maintain his gaze.

She wondered what was going through his head that moment. He was never one she could read well. She was pretty sure that was why he always beat her in shoji, when he wasn’t letting her win. Or maybe it was because she would be trying to focus on not watching the way his eyes scanned the board. Sometimes her mind wandered even further, wondering what his hands felt like when she watched him move pieces.

She could confirm now that they had a firm grip, and were a little calloused and felt rough against the smooth skin of her neck or her cheek. It was a near perfect contrast, even though she knew her hands were just as callous as his from leading the life of a ninja.

“Do...you want to come to my place?” She asked him softly.

His eyes widened a bit at the request.

He wanted to, but he was feeling a need he couldn’t dare expect her to satiate. He didn’t think that a kiss would draw him so far into his own desires. He just wanted to show her he cared, to express something he couldn’t quite get out in words. Just one kiss sparked his need within to be with her that went farther than just her company or his want to comfort her.

“Sakura, I…” He felt his face flush again. “I don’t know if that's the best idea…” He disentangled himself from her slowly and took a step back. “I think I need to go uhm… Cool off.” He rubbed the back of his back, feeling rather embarrassed.

“Oh, uh…” She wasn’t stupid, she was more than well aware what he meant. She felt hot all over from that second kiss even as tender as it still was. She nodded slightly in understanding. “If you change your mind…” She couldn’t help the tinge of hope that laced her voice.

He looked at her a moment before leaning back down and placing a kiss over her forehead. “I’ll see you, Sakura…” He really wasn’t sure what else he could possibly say to her that wasn’t awkward or weird.

He backed off almost reluctantly, wishing he could accept her offer to come to her home. He turned and walked away, but not before giving her a sheepish grin. He started walking towards home, even though he really wanted to turn around and go home with her.

But he feared she was just caught in the moment, and he didn’t want her to regret something, or for it to ruin their friendship. All these contradicting thoughts he had were troublesome and he was beginning to wonder how he let himself fall for her in the first place.

Then he remembered all the things she said, and how happy she had looked as she gazed up at him. That she had liked when he kissed her. Or how she didn’t feel so alone when she was with him.

He took a deep breath as he turned to look behind him even as he swore at himself that it was going to be the mistake that did him in. As his gaze fell back on her form, she had walked the opposite direction towards her apartment. He could see the slight slump in her shoulders, the disappointment in being turned down, even after he made the first move. Her head hung low and it caused a stabbing pain to throb in his chest.

He stopped as the realization dawned on him that he had just hurt her. He had hurt her, right after she had just told him that he made her feel happy. He didn’t want to be the reason she was hurting, he wanted to be the person that made her smile, just as brightly as she was just moments before he stepped away from her.

It couldn’t be the right thing to do if it made her look so upset. He couldn’t bear to be the one causing her to doubt herself, to feel like she did something wrong, or like she wasn’t enough. He couldn’t let her believe she was anything less than wonderful. The ink-haired man sighed as he took the next turn swiftly, heading towards her place. He picked up his pace, easily maneuvering around anyone else on the same path.

He got there first. It didn’t surprise him considering the brisk pace he had developed and the slow one she had had. He waited silently on her porch, leaning against the door frame, watching in the direction he knew she would come from.

He had been so focused on watching for Sakura that he was startled at the sound of Ino's higher pitched tone.

“So just what exactly are you doing here, hm?” She teased.

He huffed at her. “I… kissed Sakura.”

Ino blue orbs widened in surprise before she started fretting over him. “Shika, you did what!” She exclaimed excitedly.

“Don’t get so loud!” He hissed before his shoulders slumped. “Besides, I already fucked it up…” He sighed.

“Clearly you didn’t do something too terrible if you’re sitting on her doorstep.” She raised an eyebrow and clicked her tongue.

“I kissed her, and then she asked me to come over, and I just…” His cheeks tinted red again, before he glanced to see if he could see her down the road yet. “I didn’t want her to regret it…”

Ino’s gaze softened towards. “You mean, you didn’t want her to regret you.” She stepped right in front of Shikamaru, demanding his eye contact. “Look at me, she wouldn’t invite you over unless she had already decided it was what she wanted.” She set her hands on her hips. “And now you’ve probably gone and made her think she missed something or misread the situation.”

“But she didn’t! I just…” He sighed, frustrated with how he didn’t know how to say what he felt. “I didn’t want to hurt her, or hell I didn’t want to be hurt either.”

Ino rolled her eyes but kept her tone light. “So, then why are you here?”

Why did this friend of his always have to have her nose in other people’s business? He huffed, before reminding himself that if she hadn’t been in Sakura’s business he might have never got to spend so much time with her in the first place.

“I looked back after walking away and she just looked…” He felt so ashamed to have hurt her, even when his intentions had been the opposite. “She looked so hurt, and she had been smiling moments before I ruined it. And I can’t bear to be the reason she feels so sad, and I’d be lying if I sat here and tried to act like I didn’t want to come, I just tried to do the right thing…”

Ino caught sight of pink down the road out of the corner of her eye. She smiled. “As long as you’re doing what makes her happy, you’re doing the right thing, Shikamaru…” She gave him a pat on the shoulder before making the hand signs to a transportation jutsu and disappearing.

Ino words lingered in the air for a moment as he thought about them, about how he had just had a similar thought.

He glanced back towards the street and saw her coming. He stood back away from the door frame and watched as she seemed to dread coming home, coming back to being alone. Another pain stabbed in his chest as he saw the actual expression on her face. He had started to come down the steps right as she looked up and saw him on her doorstep. He shot a smile in her direction as she picked up the pace, her own face lighting back up.

She had run straight into his arms, right into his embrace on her steps.

“Shika-” She was cut off as he melded his lips to hers again and she closed her eyes, melting into the kiss just before he pulled away too soon.

“I’m sorry…” He said softly. “I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings…” He cups her face in his hands. “I only said no because I don’t want you to make a mistake and regret… This.”

She stared at him before turning to unlock her door and step inside, and jerked him into her house with one arm. She slammed the door before shoving him against it. “You let me decide whether or not I want something…” She huffed out in slight annoyance. “And damnit, I’ve been wanting you…”

He gasped at her sudden ambition but smirked a bit before hooking his palms on the back of her thighs and hoisting her effortlessly from the ground and holding her against him. He hummed appreciatively as she instantly wrapped her legs around his waist. “Then you have me.”

One of her hands went for the band that held his hair up and slowly pulled it from his locks, tossing it aside. It fell just barely to his shoulders in layers, framing his face. It had only made him look even more handsome, and sexy as that smirk still played across his lips.

She ran her fingers through his hair, loving how thick and soft it felt as the strands slid through her fingers. She looked into his eyes, which always reminded her of something deep and dark, whether it was chocolate or coffee, or at the moment it was the tall woods of their home, safe and secure. There was emotion there that she couldn’t place there. She bit her lip in anticipation. There was some warmth developing in her chest as she looked at him and it only encouraged the nerves firing all over her skin.

He tilted his back into her touch, his breath hitching as her fingers threaded through his hair. He’d never let a girl take his hair down, not even when he was heavily drunk. It felt soothing to feel her fingers against his scalp as she incessantly stroked his hair.

“You have no idea how badly I’ve wanted to do that…” She breathed out as she finally stopped and let her arms rest and loosely wrap around his shoulders.

He licked his lips before moving to kiss her neck softly. “I think your eagerness gave that part away, Sakura…” He mumbled against her neck as he lavished her soft skin with kisses. He heard her breath catch in her throat.

“Shika…” Her legs tightened around his hips as she breathed out another sigh. “You’re going to be…”

“I know…” He whispered before moving back up her neck to peck at her jawline and catch her lips with his once more. He tried to pour every bit of affection he had for her into that kiss as he started walking towards where he knew her bedroom was.

She let out a needy whimper as his lips met hers again and she slanted hers against them. She needed something more, she wanted to feel his hands on her. She wanted to feel needed by him, like she felt the need for him. It almost felt wrong, feeling this lust for the first time.

She gasped when she felt her back fall onto the bed, with him hovering over her from the edge of the mattress, easily settling between her thighs. He looked down at her before he placed a hand over her the side of her face, his thumb stroking her cheekbone. He stared at her lovingly and it was then she suddenly felt the guilt build up in her chest.

She knew she felt something for him, and that it was more than this lust, but she couldn’t call it love. As he stared at her with such a heartfelt expression her heart squeezed and it all felt wrong now. She couldn’t bear the thought of hurting him.

“W-Wait..” She stammered, her words catching in her throat.

He hummed in response before leaning down and placing a kiss on her cheek, trailing down her jawline and nipping lightly at her smooth skin. “You can talk while I kiss you…” He mumbled between kisses, his breath flowing over her skin and making her shiver.

Her back arched and she shut her eyes tight. “I-I can’t do this, not…” She moaned out softly as he bit down on the junction of her neck and shoulder and began to suck softly on her skin there.

“N-Not after you looked at me like that.” She breathed.

“I-It’s wrong…” She whimpered as he pressed her more firmly onto her bed.

“I-I don’t feel the same… Not as…” She gasped as she slowly pulled away from her neck and licked the slight red mark he left. “Not as intensely…”

Shikamaru sat back up, resting his weight on his forearms on either side of her head. He knew that already. But he could see in her eyes as she looked at him, past the guilt, that she did care about him. And if there were any feelings in her heart for him, he wasn’t letting her go now. He never intended to let her go ever, just loving her silently for his life.

“Sakura, I never expected you to feel as strongly as I do now.” He smiled down at her. “Not yet…” He caressed her cheek.

Her heart squeezed once again at his compassion towards. “But this isn’t fair to you…” She started to drag herself away from his body, trying to slip through the gap left by his arms. “I don’t want to hurt you…”

He caught on and quickly pinned his hips against hers before entangling his hand in her hair and kissing her with everything he had. He knew she didn’t want to pull away, that she was just trying to spare his heart, but he needed her to see that he understood, that he accepted it. He was patient, and he would take whatever she would give him. He brought his other hand to grip her hip gently.

She gasped into the kiss before kissing him back, struggling to fight her desire as her morals battled it in her head. She wanted nothing but to be enveloped in his warmth and his touch and his mouth, wherever he decided to wonder with it.

He pulled back and locked his coffee coloured eyes with her aqua ones. “Sakura, please, just let me love you.” He pleaded. “I know you want this too, even if you don’t feel it as deep as I do…”

She swallowed before cupping his face in her hands, tears pricking the corners of her eyes. “You don’t deserve this, Shika…” She stared into his eyes, enthralled by all the love and affection and care and compassion found in them as his eyes pierced through her again. “You deserve someone that would be devoted to you…entirely.” She smiled softly as the tears slipped down her cheeks.

He quickly wiped her eyes before kissing both her cheeks. “Sakura, if Sasuke walked back through the village gates, right now, where would you be after you found out?”

Her eyes widened at his question. He always caught her off guard with his bluntness he had for most topics. She looked at him, asking herself that question over and over again.

All she could think about was how she was right where she wanted to be. She was in the arms of someone who made her feel important, like she mattered. She stared at Shikamaru, his hair flowing down to his shoulders, slightly wavy from being held up all the time. She bit her lip, as she thought about the way his kiss made her heart leap in her chest, how the way he held her made her feel so safe.

She thought about how everything about Sasuke was apathetic and uninviting. How he thought she was annoying, treated her like she was less than him. She thought about how distant he always was, and how he put power and revenge over everything else, even when their team had started to become like family.

She thought about how warm Shikamaru was, and how he always welcomed her in his presence, how right now he was pleading to be at her side, in her bed. How he trained with her as an equal, even when he pulled his punches in fear of hurting her. How he had always been there, and how he accepted her as she was.

She stroked her thumbs across his cheeks as she beamed a smile before leaning up and kissing him, and slowly winding her fingers into his hair again, and blushed as he groaned at her touch. She pulled away before looking into eyes, warm and inviting as always, but nervous too.

“I’d be right here. I’d be with you. Naruto could come bursting through that door right now telling me Sasuke was back, and it would still hurt, but I would stay right here, in your arms.”

His eyes widened, not expecting her to say she would choose him, knowing he had risked his heart being broken, thinking he had been stupid to ask such a question when he was trying to convince her to not push him away.

He couldn’t take it anymore as his smile stretched across his face. “Then that’s more than enough for me.” His voice was heavy with the emotions he felt constricting his heart.

She would choose him.

He crashed his lips down on hers, passion flaming fiercely as he slid his hand back into her hair, and the one gripping her hip slid under her to press their bodies close together. He felt her hands slip under his shoulders and press into his back. He nipped her bottom lip and when she gasped with a moan, he slid his tongue into her mouth and tangled it with hers. She whined with need into his demanding kiss, and he felt the surge of pleasure go straight to his center as he felt his groin tighten.

“Shikamaru, please…” She moaned into the kiss.

She shook his head as he dragged his mouth away from the kiss just to pepper more along her jawline and down her neck. “I will not rush this for you, I’m going to do this right.”

Her eyes gleamed with curiosity and she arched her back into his touch. “Right…?”

The genius hummed against her skin softly before chuckling. “You are not, nor will you ever be just a quick fuck, Sakura.” His voice sounded deep and husky now, filled with need and it ignited her arousal as a deep blush flushed her skin and down her neck.

He inched his fingertips under the red fabric of her shirt, silently making the request to run his hands across her body. She nodded and pushed herself into his touch. He bit his lip and gripped the fabric and pulled it gently over her body, leaning down to kiss the skin of her abdomen as more and more was exposed.. Her breath hitched once more and she instinctively rolled her hips against his, grinding against his own arousal. She let out a loud moan and bit her lip.

“S-Shit, I’m so-”

As soon as her shirt was on the floor his hands landed on her hips and pinned them in place to the bed. His eyes were glazed over and dark as he bit his lip before he moved his hips against hers, rubbing their clothes sexes against each other deliberately. He groaned as her back arched and she moaned his name softly.

He slid his hands up her sides, hooking his fingers on her chest binds, looking for the piece that was tucked. Finding it quickly, he unwrapped them, still grinding his hips into hers as he unravelled the binds until she was exposed, her full breasts heaving with her heavy breathing. He cupped each mound in his hands and squeezed them softly, hardening even more at the moans that fell from her lips as she arched into his touch.

“Sh-Shika… Oh god.” She moaned out needily as her nipples quickly hardened at the attention she received.

“Sakura…” He breathed before leaning down and expertly circling the tip of his tongue around a hardened nipple while he still continued his touches on her other breast.

Her moans were like music to his ears. He knew she was a virgin but he didn’t expect his touch to have this much of an effect on her. He didn’t expect her to be so open to him. She blushed and whimpered and moaned but not once did she try to hide herself from him. The amount of trust she had in him made his heart swell. She looked so beautiful as she panted from his touches.

“You’re beautiful…” He whispered against her skin.

She looked up at him before she slid her hands under his flak jacket, her fingertips gliding across his mesh top, reveling in how toned his body felt, but wanting to feel his bare skin against her own.

She huffed. “This needs to come off…” She sat up quickly, did away with the green vest they all owned, and pulled at the fabric, dragging it up his torso until it went over his head.

He gazed at her as she eased the mesh material off his body. He loved the way she seemed captivated in this moment, so focused on him. Her hands pressed firm across his skin and she slid them down to his hips before she hooked her fingers on the waistband there.

He brought a hand up to her cheek once again, kissing her soft and slow, pushing her more fully onto the bed when she had finished unbuttoning his pants, he kicked them. She shed her skirt and her shorts. She could feel how wet she was everytime she moved her legs and she whined with need.

As he climbed onto the bed, still keeping settled between her legs, his knees sunk into the mattress. He sat up and just roved over her curves, her body nearly fully exposed besides the simple but sexy red panties she wore. He noticed the wet spot near her core and he smirked, stroking his hand up and down her thigh teasingly. He placed his thumb directly over her clothed clit and began rubbing slow and deliberate circles. He used his free hand to pin her hips to the bed, putting some of his weight onto her as she writhed beneath his touch.

“Shikamaru…” She drawled out in a low, heated voice. Her back arched up off the bed once more as her mouth hung open, breathy moans falling from her soft lips every time he rolled his thumb over her clit.

He licked his lips at the sight of seeing her so aroused. “You’re so wet and worked up and I’ve barely touched you…” He mumbled, his voice still deep and husky.

He began rubbing her faster, adding a little more pressure. He watched as her body began growing tense and smirked as her legs trembled around his hips. “Sakura, you look so sexy right now, baby…”

She bit her lip and a blush stained her cheeks once more as she couldn’t help but to buck her hips against his hand. She never even thought something could feel so pleasurable. She couldn’t imagine doing this with anyone else. She could feel that her panties were thoroughly soaked with her own juices and it was slightly embarrassing. Did he think she was easy, or was he just that good with his mouth and his hands? She whimpered when she felt his hand stop completely and just press firmly against her sensitive areas, and she couldn’t help but to grind herself into the palm of his hand, looking for any sort of friction.

He hooked the waistband of those pecky little panties before twirling them around his finger. He’d decided he could buy her new ones if him ripping them off pissed her off enough. With one swift pull, the fabric easily ripped. He tossed the scraps of her last bit of clothing off to the side as she gasped, but her eyes watched him intently, scaling down his body. They left a blazing heat building behind her touch. He watched her, as she hooked her slender fingers around his boxers and tugged them down his thighs to fall to his knees. He quickly kicked them off.

And then he sunk down onto the mattress, into her embrace and warmth. Her whole body was hot to the touch, feeling their bare skin against each other. He breathed a long sigh before catching her lips in another heated kiss, pouring his love into her. Her hands went into his hair and she tugged at the long strands, keeping them out of his face.

He slowly slid his length along her entrance and against her clit, and she shook with the pleasure as she rocked her hips into his.

“Oh, Shika…” She called out between kisses. “That’s so…” He nipped her bottom lip before sucking on it and slowly grinding his hips against hers, slicking himself with her arousal.

“Fuck, you’re dripping…” He groaned before he trailed wet kisses down her neck.

“Shikamaru, please. This teasing is too much…” She whined.

He hummed in agreement before sliding his hands up her arms, pinning them to the bed, intertwining their fingers together. “If you need me to stop at any time…”

She nodded, squeezing his hands. “I know…”

He aligned himself with her entrance, pressing the tip of his length into her slightly before kissing her again, delving his tongue between her lips and swirling around her own. He loved how she moaned at everything he did, how her body pressed up into his, no matter what he did. He began sucking on her tongue and she writhed between him and her sheets, messing them up even worse. Just as her moans began to become high pitched, knowing she’d want the worse done and over with, he pushed into her in one long and quick thrust, sheathing himself to the hilt.

He let out a strangled groan at how tight she was, how much she gripped him as he sank into her heat. “Sakura, fucking hell…” He growled against her lips as his body went taut with tension. He kept still, feeling her pussy pulsating around his length. She had whimpered at first and cried out in surprise but he didn’t see any signs of pain, which was a good sign but left him confused.

She moved her hips up into his and let out a broken moan, which he thought sounded a lot like ‘Shika’. “Hymens break often when you’re physically active,” She said, an annoyed and impatient tone falling from her lips. “Nothing hurts, so don’t you dare hold back.” She snapped as she writhed once more and cried out in pleasure, dissolving whatever demanding aura she tried to have.

He smirked. “My apologies.” And then he rolled over onto his back, pulling her on top of him. He held her hips tight, and lifted her up as he pulled out until just the very tip of his erection was left inside her, before thrusting upwards as he pulled her back down on him.

He threw his head back against her pillows, his raven layers sprawling across the cushions, the smells of her arousal and just her surrounding him as he pressed into her heat, overwhelmed in the sensations. He felt her hands settle firmly on his chest as she moaned out his name.

He gazed up at her, finding the way her hair hung around her face, and stuck to her neck with sweat, absolutely stunning. He watched as her breasts bounced with every movement, licking his lips as he watched them, watched her as she didn’t hold back any of the passion he gave her. He slid his hands up her sides before cupping the mounds once again, tweaking her nipples in sync with each undulation of their hips.

“Ride me, Sakura…” He growled out.

She panted as he felt her distribute more of her weight into her arms, using his chest to support herself before she experimentally rocked her hips back and forth. The friction made him sigh, the pleasure of her taking control running through his body like an electric current. He jerked his hips up into her, moaning out her name low and heated.

She felt herself slicken even more against his member as her name slipped so freely from his lips, sounding so pleasured. She bit her lip before raising her hips and then pressing back down. She gasped as searing hot pleasure raced through her veins, and repeated the motion. She did it again and again, the urgency in her movements building as she started to get closer to the sweet bliss she knew was her first orgasm given to her by someone else. She chased it, bouncing in his lap desperately.

“Fuck, Sakura. You’re going to be the death of me…” He groaned and gripped her hips hard and guided her down onto him roughly. He felt her nails digging into his skin, her death gripping his shoulders. Moan after moan fell from her mouth, whimpers of his name filling the air, urging him on.

He rolled her over onto her back, kissing her hard and needy. Her hands pressed flat against his back, before her fingers curled and he felt her fingers digging into the skin of his shoulder blades. She pressed her body into him, her back arching as she cried out into his mouth, her legs shaking around his hips and her body shuddering. He felt her tighten around his throbbing cock as she lost herself in bliss. He kissed her neck and whispered against her skin.

“You’re so gorgeous, Sakura…” He breathed against her ear as he kept pounding into her through her first orgasm he’d given her.

He felt his back muscles tighten and he sunk deep into her warmth, nearing his own bliss. He peppered kisses across whatever skin he could reach, hugging her close and tight to his chest. He grabbed the back of her knee and raised her leg, finding a better angle.

“Sakura, I love you so much, fuck…” He moaned as he finally found his own release. He pumped into her slow and hard as he came, his seed coming out in multiple spurts as he shuddered.

He collapsed on top of her body, both of them gasping for breath. He felt her gaze on him, but he couldn’t find the energy to turn his head. He gripped her hands tighter as he buried his face into her neck, breathing in her jasmine perfume.

“That was…” She panted as a smile spread across her lips. “Incredible…”

He beamed before rolling himself off of her with effort. “You were amazing…” He sighed contentedly before pulling her into his arms. His eyes felt heavy as she cuddled up to his side, pulling up the blankets to cover them. She kissed his shoulder before sighing blissfully.

He looked down at her before kissing her forehead and gently sitting up. “I should probably go…” He didn’t expect to start instantly acting like a couple, staying in her bed. “I don’t want to-”

She shoved him back down on the bed, restoring his shoulder as her pillow. “I want you to stay…” She snipped at him.

He stared down at her, before a small smile graced his lips. “Okay, Sakura…” He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and held her tight to him.

She looked up at him and pecked his lips. “Thank you, Shikamaru…”

He nodded, kissing her forehead. “I’ll always be here for you, however you need me, Sakura…”

They fell asleep, tangled in each other’s arms.

A couple hours later, Ino came to check on Sakura. She knew her teammate struggled with his emotions, and that Sakura’s temper was hardly patient. She invited herself in, not noticing anything out of the ordinary.

“It’s awful quiet…” She narrowed her eyes, knowing the last time she came here, knowing she was home and it was this quiet, she had been in her room, asleep with her eyes tear-stained.

She sauntered up to her room, worry filling her mind. She pushed the door open, expecting to forcefully drag her friend out of bed. Ready to take her straight to Shikamaru and fix her friends up herself if she had to.

But what she found made her heart swell with love and joy for a couple of the most important people in her life. Shikamaru was lying on his back with his hair down, framing his face, and thoroughly tangled. Sakura was nestled against his side using his chest as her pillow, her pink tresses splayed across his shoulder behind her, his arm wrapped tightly around her. Their clothes were scattered about the floor around the bed. The nosy blonde smirked, as she noted scratch marks on his chest, and lovebites along her neck and shoulders, and how Sakura lips swollen with kisses. They looked so happy and she couldn’t help but smile at the sight of them. She knew they would kill her for it later, but she took a quick picture on her phone, and sent it to Sakura.

It’s about damn time Shikamaru fessed up. Happy for you, Forehead.

#naruto fanfiction #naruto #shikasaku #kayparkerwrites #shikamaru x sakura #sakura x shikamaru #shikamaru nara #sakura haruno #romance #fanfiction #ino yamanaka #friendship

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themrsdeanwinchester · 4 years ago

Text

Choices

Author’s note: Hello! This is my entry for @deanwanddamons’ 1st Blogiversary & 2K Follower Celebration! The quote I chose to use is bolded within my entry. I have to say, I found this challenging. I’ve just been struggling to write lately and I hope you enjoy this. I did love writing this though because I loved the quote/prompt so much. I went back and forth on *semi spoiler* a happy or sad ending, so I wrote two. This one has the happy ending put there is a link at the bottom to take you to the sad, alternate ending. I hope you enjoy and feedback is welcome! Happy reading!

Warnings: spoiler-is for season 15, violence, hurt, demon, major character death, language

Pairing: Dean x reader (Sam is platonically in this as well)

Word count: 2,290

Six months ago, Dean Winchester had come through your line at the Gilbert’s Grocery in Lawrence, Kansas. You’d been crushing on him for much longer than that though; it had really been ever since he and his brother had shown up in town. Or, back to town you figured, since Dean had told you they were both born and raised here but had been away for work. It did seem odd to you, a little part of your brain screamed “red flag” at his explanation. He had simply stated it was a family business and that he and his brother had inherited a home here so they had decided to come back. The fact you’d go weeks without seeing him was explained away by Dean as again, work related. You ignored every sensation that your body gave you that said none of what he said lined up or made sense. But he was so handsome, and nice. His smile sparkled and his green eyes hypnotized you.

“Hey, Y/N.” Dean set his groceries on the conveyer belt. “How’s it going?”

“Hi, Dean,” you breathed. You knew there were hearts in your eyes, you just couldn’t help it. “It’s going good. Almost done for the day so that makes it even better. You?”

“Good, good. Did you say you were almost off?” Dean questioned.

“Yup.” You scanned his last item, beer. “$65.10 today.”

He handed you cash, as always, and said, “I’d love to take you out to dinner tonight. If you’re available?”

Your hand was still midair, clutching the money you’d just taken from him. Had you heard him correctly? Did he just ask you out to dinner? “I’m - I’m available,” you stuttered.

“Fantastic. What’s your number? I’ll text you and then you can send me your address.”

You gave Dean you number and felt your phone buzz in your back pocket. You pulled it out to see Dean’s text. “Got it.” You flashed your phone at him and smiled.

“Pick you up at 7?” Dean asked, grabbing his bag.

“Sounds good.”

“See you then, sweetheart.” Dean started to walk away but spun back around, “oh, keep the change.” He winked and walked out the door.

It was only then you realized your hand was still holding the cash he’d given you for his groceries.

Six months, you were living in the bunker with Sam and Dean, helping with research and a “rookie hunter” as Dean had dubbed you.

“You ready?” Dean asked, popping his head into your shared bedroom.

You zipped up your duffle. “Yup! Let’s go.”

You slowly opened your eyes. Your eyelids were heavy, so heavy they felt cemented shut. You closed then again and squeezed them, trying to shake off the sensation. You opened them again, blinking hard a few times as your eyes adjusted. You were lying flat on your back, your left arm up over your head and your right in excruciating pain. You tried to sit up and yelped in pain. Your entire body hurt. You slowly shifted your head, trying to look around. Your eyes landed on the door of the room. It was wide open. Where were Sam and Dean?

Footsteps behind you made your ears perked up. The footsteps quickened and Dean was kneeling beside you.

“Y/N!” He hissed.

“Yes, don’t yell. I can hear you,” you mumbled. Your mouth felt thick; you needed water. “What happened?”

“Christo,” Dean spat. Then he dumped holy water on your forehead. When you didn’t react he sighed, letting his head fall, his chin resting against his chest. “A demon possessed you. We’ve been looking for you for hours. I thought we’d lost you for good.” He looked up as Sam came into the room.

“Oh, good,” Sam said, breathless from running. “Let’s get out of here. Y/N, can you walk?”

“My whole fucking body hurts. I can’t even sit up,” you whined. Your eyes welled with tears as you attempted to sit up again.

Sam came along the other side of you and pushed his hand under your right shoulder to try and help you up. You screamed in pain.

“I think her shoulder is dislocated,” Sam said to Dean.

“We have to get you up, sweetheart. It’s going to hurt but we have to get you out of here.”

You nodded, swallowing hard, knowing you were in for a rough ride in the Impala.

Back at the Bunker, Dean gave you whiskey, a lot of whiskey, so Sam could put your shoulder back into place.

“I think,” you slurred, “I’m ready.” You set your empty glass in the table. “Hold my hand.” You stretched your left hand out to Dean and he took it, giving you a little squeeze.

“Take a deep breath,” Sam said. He placed a palm between your shoulder blades and the other on the front of your right shoulder. “Let it out.”

As you let out air in your lungs, Sam quickly shoved your shoulder into place. You squeezed Dean’s hand as you screamed, pain searing throughout your body.

“All done!” Sam said, taking a step back, arms raised. “I’m done! You’re good!” He was trying to reassure you but fuck, that hurt.

Later that night, as you lay propped up in bed, Dean shuffled into the room, his hair spiky and wet from his shower. You watched as he pulled clean pajamas from the dresser.

“If I had any dollars, I’d throw them at you,” you said. You were still a little drunk from the whiskey earlier.

Dean chuckled and shook his head. “Easy tiger. You maybe be feeling pretty good right now but if you get too frisky with me tonight, you will regret it in the morning.” Dean pulled back the covers and nestled into the bed next to you.

“Wanna bet?” You teased, your voice low as you started to move closer to Dean.

“Hey, I’m serious, Y/N.” Dean’s tone changed. “We’re not doing... that tonight.” He sighed and ran his hand through his wet hair. He looked over and saw the look on your face, a mix of hurt and anger. “I’m sorry.”

Part of you knew you didn’t need to feel hurt or mad. Dean was right, your body was still hurting badly. “No, it’s okay. You’re totally right. Think we can at least cuddle?”

“Of course, sweetheart.” Dean raised his arm, your cue to settle your head on his chest, his arm coming down around you once you did.

“Goodnight. I love you, Dean,” you said quietly, sleep already overcoming you.

“Love you, too, sweetheart.”

The next morning you woke up in the same spot; Dean’s arm around you and your head on his chest. You shifted slightly and were immediately met with searing pain throughout your body. Your movement and hissing of pain woke Dean up. After you assuring him multiple times you were fine, he got up to get the two of you coffee and some breakfast.

He reappeared 20 minutes later with a tray of coffee, eggs, toast, and bacon. He watched you struggle to eat with your left hand, laughing with you because you’d dropped eggs down your shirt and were trying to fish them out from between your cleavage.

Again his tone changed, his face became somber. “Y/N, we need to talk about something.”

His words made you freeze and you just nodded your head.

“Yesterday really scared me. I … we, thought you were gone. Thought we’d lost you.” Dean took in a shaky breath. “This life is not meant for everyone. And most of us were born into it. But you,” he looked up at you, his green eyes glistening with tears. “I’m going to give you the choice I never had.”

“What... what do you mean ‘give me a choice?’” You asked.

“I mean you have a choice here. To stay or go. You still have a shot at a normal life. You can go back, find a guy with a real job, and have a family, Y/N. And I want that for you. I want you to be happy. I would prefer it be with me but I can’t give you what you deserve. And I won’t let you put yourself in danger.” Tears were now sliding down Dean’s cheeks and you watched them, watched them slide down the curve of his jaw onto his neck.

“Are you...” your mouth was so dry. “Are you breaking up with me?”

“I’m telling you to break up with me,” Dean choked.

“That doesn’t even make sense.”

“It doesn’t have to. I just need you to be safe. Goddamit, Y/N.” Dean put his head in his hands.

“What did I do?” You asked, defensive now.

“Nothing. I didn’t mean anything by that,” Dean mumbled into his hands.

The two of you sat in silence. You knew Dean was right. This job, this life, it was hard. Really fucking hard. And dangerous. You loved Dean and you had to admit that it was hard to be in this life with him. Day in and day out, wondering what was going to happen to him, or you, or Sam.

And so, Dean helped you packed your things. Slowly, stopping every so often to exchange a glance and exchange assurances that this was what was best for the both of you.

You hugged Sam with tears in your eyes. “I can still help with research from my house,” you whispered to him.

Sam smiled, pulled away from you and shook his head. “Dean doesn’t want you involved at all. It’s for your safety.”

“I knew that was a long shot,” you shrugged, a small laugh escaping your lips. “I’ll miss you, Sam.”

“I’ll miss you, too, Y/N.” He leaned down and kissed the top of your head.

Dean appeared in the doorway. “Ready?”

“As I’ll ever be,” you said through a sigh.

The ride to your house was silent other than the purr of the Impala. You glanced at Dean, his green eyes in the road, left hand griping the wheel and his right holding your hand, fingers laced together. He was holding it firmer than he ever had, all because he worried it’d be the last time. You understood, you really did. You tossed it all up to right person, wrong time. In another world without monsters, demons, angels, and Chuck, maybe you and Dean could be together. But this was Chuck’s world and you were being written out.

On the porch of your house, you caught Dean staring at you, concern in his eyes.

“What?” You asked.

“You’ll call me if you need anything, right?” His eyes searched yours.

“Yes. And you me?”

“Of course, sweetheart.” But Dean knew he wouldn’t. He wasn’t going to contact you while still living the hunter life style. He wouldn’t risk it. He pulled you into a kiss. His body tense as he held back the urge to fling the door open and carry you straight to the bedroom, the one he grew accustomed to over the last six months when you two wanted to get away.

“I’ll wait for you, Dean,” you whispered against his lips.

“If you don’t that’s okay,” he mumbled, his forehead pressed against yours, eyes closed.

4 Years Later

You pulled into your drive way around 6 as the sun was just starting to set. You had been able to get your job back at the grocery store and move up to manager. You had hoped and prayed you’d seen Sam and Dean but you never did. You started wondering if they’d moved away, to another place, and your heart ached at the thought. But it also didn’t surprise you.

You trudged up your steps, balancing a pizza on one hand and a 6 pack of beer in the other. After a shower, you settled into the couch in your pajamas and one of Dean’s flannel shirts you’d “accidentally” packed when you moved out.

Just as you went to take your first bite, there was a knock at your door. You heaved a sigh as you threw the pizza back into the box.

You opened the door and Dean was standing there. Your Dean. You stared at him, shocked. It couldn’t be real.

“Hey, sweetheart.” He smiled, his eyes crinkling a little more than they used to, laugh lines more prominent.

“Christo,” you stuttered, the first thing to come to your mind, and Dean laughed.

“It’s me.”

You threw yourself at him then, tears streaming down your face. “Dean!” You cried into his shoulder.

Dean lifted you up, feet off the ground, and walked you both inside, closing the door with his foot. He set you down as he looked you over. “I wondered what happened to this shirt,” he chuckled, his hands stopping at the buttons on your chest. He popped one open, smirking at you.

“Wait,” you pushed his hands away. “What are you doing here?”

“We’re finished. Me and Sam. We rendered Chuck human and... we’re free.” Dean’s voice caught in his throat, the last two words coming out as a whisper of relief.

You grabbed Dean, hands in whether side of his face and pulled him into a kiss. His arms wrapped around your waist and you both relaxed into each other. You could feel how much lighter he felt, the weight of literally the entire world was now off his shoulders and he could just be himself. He could work on Baby, have movie marathons whenever he wanted, work a real job, and love. He could have his apple pie life and he wanted it with you.

Dean broke the kiss, eyes locked with yours. “I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you, too.”

Ready the sad, alternate ending here.

Masterlist

Feedback is amazing :)

Taglist: @akshi8278, @notan-applepielife, @mynightmaresstuff, @vicmc624, @smokeychu, @supernatural-bellawinchester

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mandelene · 4 years ago

Note

For the drabble prompts, what about single father Francis taking Matthew and/or Alfred to the doctor’s, where he meets Dr Kirkland for the first time? Bonus if the twins try to set them up, but don’t worry if you think it’ll be too long for a drabble. 💕

I did make it way too long, but once I got into it, I couldn’t stop myself. 😅💖 Sorry in advance. I hope you enjoy it! Also, I want to make a disclaimer that I do not think parents shouldn become infatuated with their kid’s doctor irl, nor should said doctor react the way Arthur reacts in this story because it’s unprofessional. 🤣 It’s just a story!

Extreme Hopscotch and a Hot Date

Word Count: 2060

“Alfred, please, don’t make a scene!”

“No! You can’t make meeeeee!”

Francis did not think he’d be frantically rushing a bleeding Alfred to the nearest urgent care clinic at seven o’clock in the evening because someone thought it would be a good idea to create a game of “extreme hopscotch” in sidewalk chalk right in front of the house. Long story short, after a miscalculated cartwheel, Alfred managed to fall on his arm and land in gravel, resulting in a three-inch laceration leading all the way from his wrist and stopping midway down his forearm.

Alfred is a menace when it comes to receiving any sort of medical attention, and Francis has tried everything to get him to be more cooperative—bribing him, whispering sweet nothings, soothing him, lecturing him, scolding him—nothing works.

Thankfully, he has a secret weapon…

“It won’t be so bad, Al,” Matthew tries to convince his brother. “I’ll hold your hand, okay?”

Alfred swipes at his red puffy eyes with the sleeve of his sweatshirt and sniffles wetly. “I don’t want it to hurt.”

“The doctor will make it better,” Matthew promises, squeezing Alfred’s shoulder. “And maybe you’ll get a lollipop at the end!”

Francis doesn’t know how Matthew has become better at getting through to Alfred than him, but he’s grateful for it.

The idea of receiving a lollipop seems enticing enough because Alfred sullenly walks his way over to the pleasant medical assistant who has been patiently waiting for him to follow her down the hall.

“You can come right in here, boys,” she says, holding the door open to an exam room.

Francis picks Alfred up and sits him on the exam table so that he doesn’t have to struggle to climb up. He places a warm, reassuring kiss on his forehead, and then, he and Matthew sit in a pair of chairs opposite Alfred.

“So, what brings you guys in today?”

“Alfred fell on gravel while playing on the sidewalk and has a gash on his forearm. I’ve tried my best to keep it bandaged, but the bleeding hasn’t stopped,” Francis explains, pressing his palms against his knees. He has a fair bit of white coat syndrome himself, so being calm for the boys in these types of situations often proves to be difficult.

The medical assistant notices Alfred’s rolled-up right sleeve and the gauze around his arm. “Ouch, that’s not good…All right, honey, I’m just going to take your vitals.”

She takes Alfred’s temperature with an ear thermometer. When it registers as normal, she checks his blood pressure—also normal.

“Does he have any medical conditions?”

“No.”

“Allergies?”

“Not that I know of.”

“And how old is Alfred again?”

“Seven.”

The medical assistant busily types away at the computer for a moment, clicks some boxes, and then says, “Okay, one of our doctors should be in shortly. Feel better soon, sweetie!”

Francis thanks her as she leaves and shoots Alfred another encouraging smile. “It’s going to be okay, mon chou.

Five minutes of tense silence go by, aside from Alfred occasionally asking, “Is it going to hurt? Am I going to get a shot? Are they going to cut my arm off?” while Francis tells him to relax and take a deep breath.

There’s a knock on the door. A doctor of average height with emerald green eyes, tousled blond hair, and a white coat comes in. He shakes Francis’s hand and greets him by saying, “Good evening, I’m Dr. Arthur Kirkland.”

“Francis,” Francis replies, mouth suddenly dry.

The doctor turns to the exam table to shake the hand of Alfred’s uninjured arm, and Francis can see that Alfred is impressed that he’s being treated like a grown-up. “You must be Alfred, and I’m assuming that that’s your brother sitting over there.”

“Yeah, that’s Matthew,” Alfred supplies with another wet sniffle. “He’s my twin, but I’m older than him by like ten minutes.”

“I see,” Dr. Kirkland says before shaking Matthew’s hand as well for good measure. “It’s a pleasure to meet you all.”

He pauses to look down at Alfred’s injured arm and gently lifts it up. “Can you tell me what happened here, Alfred?”

“Ummm…Uhhh…I sorta was playing extreme hopscotch with Mattie and got to the part where you’re supposed to do a cartwheel, but I fell over and hit my arm and cut it.”

“Extreme hopscotch?” Dr. Kirkland asks, raising a brow before carefully undoing Francis’s makeshift bandaging.

“…Yeah, it was an idea Mattie and I came up with…”

“I told you it was a bad idea,” Matthew mumbles from the sidelines.

Dr. Kirkland smiles, clearly amused by the story. He sets Alfred’s arm down for a moment to put on some gloves and frowns when he gets a good look at the ugly gash, which is still bleeding even two hours after the incident. “Has this been cleaned out?”

“I tried,” Francis says, holding a hand against his temple. “I wanted to rinse it under the sink, but Alfred threw a fit, and I don’t think I got very far.”

“Hmm...” He turns Alfred’s arm back and forth several times and feels along his wrist and the surrounding bones. “Does it hurt when I press around here?”

Alfred whimpers and says, “Yeah, when you pressed up there.”

“Up here?” Dr. Kirkland asks, prodding around Alfred’s wrist again.

“Oww!” he exclaims, and a few tears roll down his cheeks. “It hurts.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make it worse…I need to check something, all right? And it may hurt for just a moment, but you seem like a courageous boy, and I think you can handle it. Okay?”

“…Okay.”

Francis smiles again and gives Alfred a little thumbs-up. Given how he normally acts at the doctor’s—he’s doing phenomenally.

Dr. Kirkland slowly rotates Alfred’s wrist and tries to hyper-extend it forward, but Alfred lets out a sharp shout, so he stops. “All right, all done…We’ll have to make sure you didn’t break any bones in your wrist or arm when you fell, Alfred, since you’re having some pain and swelling. So, I think it’d be wise to get an x-ray. We can do that here and know within a few minutes. We’ll also have to clean that wound and give you a few stitches.”

“I-Is it going to hurt?” Alfred asks in the most pitiful tone Francis has ever heard him use.

“Maybe a little, but then it’ll feel much better later.”

Alfred swallows hard and mumbles, “Okay.”

After a nod of confirmation and understanding from Francis, Dr. Kirkland says, “We’ll take him for the x-ray first. The medical assistant will come and get him. I’ll return once we have the images.”

Francis nods his head again “Okay, thank you!”

“Not a problem.”

Dr. Kirkland steps out for the time being, so Francis gets up to give Alfred another comforting kiss on the head and wipes his tears with some tissues.

“See? That wasn’t so bad, right?” Francis murmurs, running a hand through his hair. “The doctor seems very nice.”

“You should go on a date with him,” Alfred abruptly says, and Francis feels his heart skip a beat.

“What in the world—?”

“You said he’s nice.”

Matthew then jumps into the conversation and adds, “You were looking at him all funny, Papa.”

“I was not!”

“You so were,” Alfred agrees with a giggle in between his pained sobs.

Before Francis can analyze the social cues he must have obviously given for the boys to be suggesting such a thing, a new medical assistant arrives to take Alfred to go and have his x-ray taken. Francis offers to walk him there, but Alfred insists that he’s a “big kid” and can go by himself.

“You haven’t been on a date in a long time, Papa,” Matthew whispers.

“I’m not going to have a fling with Alfred’s doctor, Mathieu!,” Francis whispers back.

Alfred is brought back to them about ten minutes later, and the doctor arrives fifteen minutes after him with some medical supplies.

“The good news is Alfred doesn’t have any fractures. It looks like a bad sprain. I’ll give him a brace to wear on his wrist for the next two weeks until it stops being sore and tender,” Dr. Kirkland tells Francis before looking down at Alfred. “Let’s get that wound sorted and you can be on your way. No more extreme hopscotch though, all right?”

“All right,” Alfred reluctantly agrees, hunching his shoulders.

“I’m going to give you some medicine to numb the cut so that it won’t hurt when I put the stitches in.”

But when Alfred spots the syringe and needle, he screeches at the top of his lungs, and Francis does his best to calm him down.

“Alfred, Alfred! What happened to being a courageous boy?” Dr. Kirkland asks. “It’s just a little needle.”

“No shots!”

“Alfred, please,” Francis begs. He was doing so well!

Once again, Matthew comes to the rescue by taking Alfred’s healthy hand in his own. “It’s okay, remember?”

Alfred squeezes Matthew’s hand and buries his face into his Papa’s chest to weep some more.

Dr. Kirkland, meanwhile, coaxes Alfred to extend his arm and place it flat on the exam table. “It’ll be quick, Alfred. I promise.”

“I take back what I said, Papa. You can’t date him! He’s a meanie!”

At that, Francis turns beet red and really wishes he could disappear. Maybe the poor doctor didn’t hear that. “I’m so sorry. I have no idea what he’s talking ab—”

“A date?” Dr. Kirkland inquires, and Francis isn’t sure if he’s continuing the topic of discussion because he’s genuinely curious or because he wants to distract Alfred from the needle that’s now approaching his flesh.

“Papa is single and hasn’t been on a date in forever,” Alfred explains, head still pressed into Francis’s shirt. When the needle finally pierces his skin, he yelps, but Matthew squeezes his hand and Francis rubs the back of his head even though he is mortified.

“I see…The worst part is done with, Alfred. You shouldn’t feel any more pain, but your arm may feel tingly and strange as it becomes numb. I’m going to rinse this out with some sterile saline…”

Francis doesn’t dare to look, afraid he’ll accidentally meet the doctor’s gaze and make things a million times more awkward. Alfred eventually loosens his grip on him and Matthew, curious to see what’s being done to him.

“There we are. Much better,” Dr. Kirkland says before he readies the sutures. “This shouldn’t hurt, so tell me if it does…”

“How many stitches?” Alfred asks, less hysterical and distraught now.

“As many as it takes to close the wound. Probably around fifteen.”

“Gross…But that’s also kinda cool.”

Dr. Kirkland smiles again—he has such a lovely smile, Francis thinks.

Alfred’s eyes widen as he watches the doctor work. “You do it so fast!”

“You’re not the first person I’ve stitched up…It’s very important that you don’t touch your stitches or rip them, or else the wound won’t heal. You can come back to have them taken out in ten days.”

Once that’s done, Dr. Kirkland wraps Alfred’s arm in some gauze to discourage him from picking at the sutures and puts his wrist in a small brace. “How does that feel?” he asks.

“It doesn’t hurt as much.”

“That’s the answer I was looking for,” Dr. Kirkland says before typing some notes into the computer and scribbling something on a piece of paper. Then, he hands Alfred a lollipop and a sticker that he fishes out of a drawer and turns to Francis to inform him, “You can give him some ibuprofen tonight before he goes to bed to bring some of the swelling and pain down. Ice and elevation will also help. You can get his detailed discharge forms from the front desk. Do you have any questions?”

“No, that’s all. Thank you very much.”

Dr. Kirkland nods and hands Francis the piece of paper he was writing on, except it’s now folded in half. Then, the doctor helps Alfred down from the exam table, pats his head, and says goodbye. “Stay out of trouble and feel better soon!”

Francis assumes the paper contains some instructions regarding Alfred’s care. But when he unfolds it and realizes what it is, his hands tremble.

It’s a cellphone number...

#hetalia #aph france #aph america #aph canada #aph england #drabbles #aph fruk #this isn't a drabble -- it's a one shot lmaooo whoops

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my-fanfic-library · 5 years ago

Text

Something Different {BBC Dracula x Reader} [13]

Masterlist

~^*^~

Your eyes fluttered open. The amber sun beat down on your face through the cracks in the curtains. Your phone buzzed excitedly on your bedside table. With a groan, you reached out, missing once but grasping it firmly the second time. Eyes a little blurred, you answered.

“Hullo?” You asked groggily.

“Good morning, Princess, did you sleep well?” Dracula’s voice rang through.

“Very.” You hummed.

“Good... I’ll be back in a couple of days. Behave yourself and I might just be tempted to show you a little gratitude for it...”

“I have no idea what that means but you have fully intrigued me.”

“Ahh, now you have just a fraction of an idea on how I feel about you.” A smile broke out onto your face at his words.

“The most romantic thing anyone has every said to me and it’s from a vampire.” You playfully mused, rolling your eyes.

“So that is where we are,” he pondered, “a budding romance?”

“Ah, well, no, I didn’t mean it like that-“

“I think I like that very much.”

Your smile softened. And then your phone began to vibrate once more. Zoe was trying to call you. Your heart faltered. You hadn’t heard from her in so long. Worry had begun to settle in your gut, but here she was calling you.

“Drac, I’ll have to call you back.” He tried to protest, however you cut him off and answered Zoe, “Zoe? Is everything alright?”

“[First].” She spoke slowly, voice weak and having lost its character.

“Zoe...?”

“You need to come to London...”

“What’s going on? Why? Why do I need to come to London?”

“I’m in the hospital...” she told you slowly. She kept gasping quietly for breath, “my health... deteriorated... I was moved to Westmoreland Street hospital... the oncology ward... bring all your files and come...”

“What about Jack...?”

“He arrived yesterday... his friend, Lucy... is about to die...”

Your heart swelled with guilt. You had caused that.

But could you go back to London? Could you return to the place that you had once fled? Where every street had its memory - most more than painful - and every place that you had ever been there tainted with heartache. Zoe had beckoned you to join her in what you suspected were her final days but you didn’t know if you could. Over the last two years, she had become a stand-in mother figure while you were so far away from your own. She was your mentor, and your inspiration. How could you go and watch her die? How could you go and relive all that heartbreak only to create more?

~^*^~

You closed your eyes, not wanting to see the city rise up from the horizon. Already, you missed Whitby. You missed the screech of the seagulls, the constant whisper of the waves, the groan of the boats coming up and down the harbour.

A good 20 minutes later and you were hauling yourself and your bags off of the coach, wishing that you weren’t here. The familiar and unforgettable scent of London filled your lungs and you almost burst into tears right there. But you didn’t. You simply pulled up the handle on your suitcase, held your canvas bag tightly and began to walk. The coach had stopped opposite Regents Park station, and you knew it wasn’t too much of a walk to the hospital. It was a short journey. Soon you were navigating through the winding halls, trying to decipher where on Earth the oncology ward was. After asking several nurses, you found yourself outside of her door.

‘072 A

Zoe Van Helsing’

You wanted to cry for her. Your fist rapped on the door and you entered. She was lying back, head elevated slightly with cushions. Her once glowing skin was pale and opaque, matted with deep bags under the eyes. Her lips had pastelled and cracked up. She didn’t look great.

“Hi, Zoe.” You greeted softly.

“[First], you came.” She didn’t push back the tired smile, but her voice gave away her exhaustion.

“Of course I did.” You set the bags down, walking towards her side. Closer up, she looked even worse.

“Jack... asked about you...” she told you, “his friend... Dracula has been drinking her,” she stopped, just for a moment to weakly cough, “blood.”

“I...”

“She was an old friend of yours... wasn’t she...? You must be upset.”

“...not really... our friendship ended on bad terms.”

“I...” her eyes looked past you, as if she was looking at another person. You turned your head, seeing no one, “see...”

“What? What is it?” You asked her softly.

It was probably the high dosages of medicine making her hallucinate. It was the only explanation. You sighed.

Her eyes fluttered a few times before slowly closing. She was clearly exhausted. Whispering your goodbyes, you left the room and plucked up your bags. Just as you were turning to leave, very familiar male.

“Hey!” You called. He turned to look at you and then began to walk a little faster, “stop!” You called. Reluctantly, he turned and gave you a nervous smile, “Renfield, right?”

“Sorry, Miss [Last], I didn’t realise it was you.”

Yes you did, you slimeball you thought

“That’s okay!” You smiled sweetly, “can you do me a huge favour?”

~^*^~

Renfield shuffled a little away from you as you turned your head up to smile at him. It was obviously fake and very much forced. He gulped. You wanted to laugh. You had seriously unnerved him but you didn’t care.

He began to panic in his own head beside you. The lift pulled you up to the penthouse suite. Dracula had given stern orders that no one was to visit, except for... well, she wasn’t an issue anymore, she was dying. But Dracula had only mentioned this sweet [First] [Last] as his “lady in the North”. He often neglected Renfield’s plans to visit you for a few days. However, the lawyer couldn’t see what he saw in you. He rubbed at the scar on his neck.

When the doors opened, he stepped out and you happily trailed behind him. His shoes clicked on the floor until he came to the wooden door.

“Stay here for a moment.” He commanded, voice growing with nerves.

He carefully opened the door so that you wouldn’t be able to see inside and slipped away. Dracula sat at the head of the table, reading on his kindle. He had grown very close with it, having realised just how many books the tiny slab of plastic contained.

“Count Dracula...” Renfield began.

“Why do you sound so guilty, Renfield?” Dracula apple, not looking up from the page he was reading. He was playing with his fingers with his free hand.

“There is a lady here to see you...”

“Ah,” Dracula looked up, “so soon? I knew she was a lively one... though I did expect her to be trapped in her physical body... perhaps she was much stronger than I anticipated.”

“N-no, Count Dracula-“

“Enough. You can go and sort your work out. I’ll entertain our guest.”

Renfield retreated immediately. He knew Dracula had grown fond of you but he didn’t know if he would be angry that you had found him where he occasionally had the other lady around for... activities.

Dracula’s pace was slow. He knew that on the other side of the door, he was heard. He was prowling, testing the impatience of the person waiting for him. He was teasing.

His fingers reached out. He grasped the handle. He pulled.

“Just the very person I was expecting, much sooner than I expected thou-...” his voice cut and trailed off. His eyes locked with yours. He was genuinely shocked to see you standing before him, smiling. You let a small giggle pass your lips and had he had a beating heart, he knew it would have skipped a beat at the sound, “[First]?” He managed to ask through his question.

“Who else were you expecting?”

You already knew the answer, and the pain in knowing that she was openly welcome to this place radiated through your chest. But the reminder that she was dying due to becoming acquainted with him, whilst you still bloomed with life gave you some peace on the matter.

“My goodness this is a shock.” He breathed.

“Not to quote a close undead acquaintance of mine, but will you invite me in?”

He breathed a laugh. He could sense that you were angry at him, but you still joked around with him. You were smiling through the pain. Goodness, how he admired that on you.

“No.” He deadpanned, “I’m demanding your entry.” The wicked smile appeared on his face and you pushed back a laugh.

You made your way in, admiring the darkness of the room. A long table ran the length of the room and a tall, slender window was covered to conceal the sunlight. There were purple and cyan lights and it was very pretty.

You wondered where Renfield had disappeared to. There were a few doors and you wondered where they lead.

Dracula’s hands slipped over your own for a moment and the contact sent a pleasant shiver down your spine. He lifted the suitcase and the bag from your grip and moved them, setting them down by the door. You watched him move around. He seemed very much at home here, but after two months, you supposed he would in a place he could fully call his own. He fit in very nicely in the sophistication of it all.

“When did you get here?” He inquired.

“A few hours ago. I took a coach.”

“You took a coach? That must’ve taken so long.”

“Six hours. And then I went to visit somebody...” you didn’t want to say who.

You knew that over the time Dracula had been coming back to visit you, he had also been having secret meetings with Zoe. She had never told you this. You had found out yourself during your absence when Jack directed you to her office to find some paperwork he needed. You had found the diary entries, dates and all, documenting her meetings with him. He had been the one to diagnose her cancer (her blood had been poison to him - which both horrified and intrigued you), she had drunk the rest of the sample of his blood that she didn’t send off for testing, and they had been meeting secretly for months.

Count Dracula had proved himself to be somewhat of a playboy, managing three maidens all at once.

You scoffed.

“What?” Dracula, who had sunken down into the chair nearest to you, looked up at you.

“Nothing.” You shook your head.

“You must be tired, I suppose. Do you want to lie down for a while?”

You simply hummed and nodded. He stood once more, gently taking your hand and leading you towards one of the doors. He paused.

“Renfield!” He bellowed, “fetch some food for our guest! And make it nice!”

You stifled another laugh as he pushed open the door and pulled you through. The next room was similarly as dark and featured a beautiful black four poster bed, with black satin canopies. The bedding was silk, and glistened. Pushed against the wall you had just entered through, to the left was a matching black wardrobe and on the opposite side of the room beside the window was a matching tall chest of drawers.

You audibly gasped at the sight. Dracula smirked at your reaction. But then the memories of what had happened here filled his head.

Did he feel guilty...?

“Impressed?”

“Very much, Christian Gray.” You joked.

“[First],” he warned lowly, turning to face you, “never ever quote that book again.” He turned away from you, “at least I know what BDSM is now.”

“You actually read Fifty Shades...”

Oh, how badly you wanted to laugh at the thought of a well-mannered and charming gentleman reading such a book.

“It was recommended to me.” He stated plainly.

“Believe me, Drac, that book doesn’t even scratch the surface of BDSM.”

You pulled your hand out of his and he turned his head so quickly you would be surprised if he didn’t end up with whiplash. He eyed you. You bit your lip in order to prevent the laughs. And then he did the most unexpected thing. He trapped you in his arms, bringing you close as they slithered around your waist. You were pulled into him, the mere feeling of him holding you knocking the breath from your lungs. He lowered his head, connecting his forehead with yours.

“I suggest you stop right there, darling.” He whispered.

“I’m tempted to carry on now.” Your eyes sparkled with mischief.

“Yes, carry on, see where it lands you.”

Your eyes flickered to the bed and back to him. Both of you seemed to have the same thought and you began to laugh. Hard. The ridiculousness of it. Part of you was tempted to bring up a certain movie scene where a mating between a vampire and a human lead to an utterly destroyed bedroom, but you opted against it.

You planted your forehead on his chest as you laughed into him. The sweet sounds that came from you vibrated through him and he found himself holding onto you just a little tighter. He threw his head back, inhaling deeply. Slowly but surely, the room was being taken hostage by your scent.

When your laughter had died down a little, Dracula released you and you stepped back to look at him. Your eyes truly did sparkle in every light, didn’t they? Was it simply the life flowing through your veins? Or were you truly just that special?

He announced to you that he’d leave you alone to rest and your eyes lingered on the door after he gently shut it. Sighing, you turned and decided to have a little root around the room. You began at the wardrobe, opening the doors to reveal many freshly ironed suits, crisp shirts, some sweats and other items of clothing hung up neatly and colour-coded. You scoffed. Trust Dracula to have a colour-coded wardrobe. Then again, being awake 24/7 must end up proving to be extremely boring.

The next place you looked was in the chest of drawers. Everything was seemingly normal, until you found yourself opening the bottom drawer.

Women’s clothes?

You tugged a t-shirt out you gasped at the shirt beneath it. It was so recognisable. The eyeliner stain was still there.

~^*^~

You laughed as Lucy began to swipe eyeshadow all the way out towards your temple. Clearly she had gotten bored with doing a nice job with your makeup and wanted to start clowning around a little. She swapped out the eyeshadow after a moment with her brightest liquid lip and began to paint it on your cheeks, and your laughing caused her to lose the grip.

The applicator fell, not without leaving a vibrant mark on your white pyjamas.

“Lucy!” You whined.

She was too busy laughing at your despair to help. So, you did the only thing a teenage girl could think of doing. You grasped her liquid eyeliner, ripping open the lid and began to draw lines up and down her arms.

She began to laugh harder with the sensation and then, you began to swirl a dark mark into her pyjamas. She only laughed, and you couldn’t help but join her once more.

~^*^~

You dropped the t-shirt immediately and pushed yourself back. Due to the fact that you were crouching, you toppled backwards and landed on your backside. You drew in a breath and waited for Dracula to come in and find you snooping. He’d make a stupid remark at you being so nosy and would most likely forget about it sooner or later. But he never came. Instead, there was silence.

Not wanting to look inside of the drawer anymore, you kicked it shut and flopped onto your back.

So she had been here? She had been in his bedroom? She had been so often that she needed to leave clothes? So she had been staying the night... how many nights? You couldn’t help but think about what they did during that time.

Dread filled you as you pondered on it longer and longer.

Why hadn’t Dracula ever invited you down to London if he had such a beautiful home here? Did he wish to conceal his close relations with Lucy so badly from you? It must’ve been her he was expecting. You wondered how disappointed he must’ve been when he opened the door and realised that it was you and not her.

You couldn’t stay here. You had been awake since 5am, and had been on a coach since 6am. You needed your sleep. It was only 2pm. A few hours wouldn’t hurt, as long as you left before the sun went down. If you planned it correctly, you could even get the same coach back to Whitby.

Pulling yourself up, you made yourself to the bed. When you sunk down, you were surprised to find that the mattress was memory foam. The sheets were slippery beneath you. You didn’t like them much, if truth be told. Maybe Lucy had picked them out...

Instead of thinking about it anymore, you shut your eyes and regulated your breathing. There was no point on dwelling on it. She was as good as dead.

When your eyes fluttered open, the room was pitch black. From outside of the room, you could hear the soft hum of music. What time was it? You pulled yourself up and your legs were wobbly with having just woken up. You pushed past it and made your way out of the room. A soft light hit you and at the sound of the door opening, Dracula turned to look at you.

He had a glass before him, it was half full. He ignored it, however and strolled towards you.

“Did you sleep well, darling?”

“Is that what you asked her every time she stayed over?”

You were too tired to process your slightly bitchy attitude. He cocked an eyebrow. Then he sighed.

“She didn’t stay as often as you are imagining.”

“But she’s stayed more than I have.”

“Trust me, I’ve spent more time with you.”

“Did you sleep with her?” You asked sharply.

“Would you prefer my honesty or will you flee in anger again?” He was treating you like a ticking time bomb. Good.

“Just tell me. I need to know.”

You did. You needed to know how she had won him over. How she had won another person against you. Whatever she did, she was too good at it. If this tiny piece of closure would help you heal, then god damn it, you needed it.

“Fine...” he took a step towards you warily, “only... when I drank her blood... and only here. Every other time I drank her, we were in less intimate places...”

“How many times...?” You could barely speak louder than a whisper. Your heart was pounding with what you could only describe as jealousy. But why on Earth were you jealous?

“Three times.”

Your bottom lip trembled.

Why did you decide it was a good idea to inquire about such things? Why did it hurt so much? When had you grown so attached to him?

“... why not me...?”

“Why not you?” He repeated, “darling, because I have more respect for you than that. And should our blossoming romance progress, I’d rather not drink your blood. Not again. It is much too valuable.”

You turned away from him. If he saw the tears in your eyes, he’d pin you as weak. You weren’t weak. You were devastated that Lucy had wormed her way in between you and another person. Maybe you shouldn’t have come here.

“I’m gonna go, Drac.” You whispered.

“You’re leaving so soon?”

“Yes, I haven’t been to see my parents and-“ you lied, voice shaking, “I should go and see them.”

“At three in the morning?”

It was 3am?

“...yes...?” You lied once more but you sounded more unsure of yourself than ever.

“I suppose I cannot convince you otherwise. However, I am indebted to you. May you allow me to pay you back?”

“You aren’t in debt to me-“

“That’s where you are wrong. Indeed I am. I left a very beautiful lady alone at a ball after only one dance. Will you indulge me in just one more?”

He extended his arm to you and you looked at him in disbelief. Did he have to do this now? You didn’t want to think of the consequences if you didn’t; besides, you couldn’t leave now that it was dark, he’d follow you.

“Only one.”

“Thank you. Sincerely, thank you.” He smiled softly at you, “and instead of waltzing you around, we shall dance a little closer to how your generation does it.”

What?

“Hold up, if you think for one second I’m gonna grind up on you, you are wrong-“

“I’m not going to ask how you came to that conclusion. Now take my hand, darling.”

He truly was mesmerising when he wanted to be. You were a moth and he was the burning light. He drew you in even if you knew he was dangerous. Even if he would kill you, something inside of you screamed to get closer and closer evermore to him. You took a few steps forwards and took his hand.

Gently, he pulled you into him and wrapped his free arm around your waist. Your other arm came to rest on his shoulder and he pulled you just a little closer.

‘My lover’s got humour, she’s the giggle at a funeral, knows everybody’s disproval, I should’ve worshipped her sooner’

You scoffed quietly at the song choice. Slowly, he swayed your bodies, relishing in the feeling of you. Again, he could hear your pulse. Dear lord, he was begging whatever force there was to keep you this close. He had never in his 500 years imagined to meet somebody like you.

He could stay like this with you forever and he would be content. Absolutely, utterly content.

“Take Me to Church?” You whispered questioningly, “I thought you shunned anything holy.”

He chuckled.

‘The only heaven I’ll be sent to, is when I’m alone with you, I was born sick but I love it’

“I suppose this is an expection.” He whispered back.

He slightly tightened his grip, wishing to feel the beat of your heart against his chest. You sighed a little at the closeness. You shut your eyes and disconnected your hand from his, and instead wrapped it around his neck. His now free arm worked it’s way around your waist.

“Why?”

‘I’ll tell you my sins and you can sharpen your knife, offer me that deathless death, good god let me give you my life’

He pulled you ever tighter, inhaling your scent. You buried your face into the crook of his neck. Here, his aftershave was strongest. You liked the smell of it. The feeling of your youth, of your life made Dracula feel more alive than he ever could devouring other humans. The rush of adrenaline he got with that was nothing to the way he felt holding you like this.

God, what was happening to him?

“Because it reminds me of you.” He whispered into your ear, pressing a tender kiss to your head.

~^taglist^~

@vampiregirl1797 @avalanet @bunnyreese12 @nerdonpluto @teamceleries @grifffins @hitbythunder @winterseoul @mymagicsuitcase @angeli-fucking-cat @benedictethegoddess @bloodhon3yx @nifflersravenclaw @writteninthestars288 @labelladrama @frankcastlesgrunts @angelicdestieldemon @quakerlasss @aliisa-jones @wolverinexmenn @clairedragonessbaker @cryiner @mitsukatsu @piratewhore @your-pixels-are-showing @tardisnesss @ladydovahkiin180 @catwomom @god-of-dramatic-death-scenes @th3rah @viper-queen @mephdcosplay @greghouse7 @faeprinces @kokoro-no-yami @trishaferdream @therealmoni @crazytxgradstudent @sansthelonelypunster @crowley-needs-a-hug @girlonfireice @wasntpriscilla @ivanna6026 @greeniemoon @blueinkblot @tefymorgan @misfitgirlwrites @lokiphan @newheart97 @middlespellman @bratty-sweetheart @dipsylou @lilmou5ie @the-fangirl-life10 @enchantersnight @imthedoctorlove @haleyea @hoefordarkness

#whoooooo boy #that took way too long #hope you guys enjoy #something different #dracula #bbc dracula #netflix dracula #dracula x reader #bbc dracula x reader #netflix dracula x reader #claes bang #dolly wells

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anotheronechicagobog · 4 years ago

Text

Star Trek Kelly Severide x reader

written by @anotheronechicagobog

Requested by @raveenasblog

Warnings: swearing, mature themes, mature language, reader is sister of Sheldon Jin from S1 of CPD, Star Trek references (another series I unfortunately don’t own)

A/N: Sorry that this took me so long, I hope you like it!

You worked at Chicago Central University as a biomedical engineering researcher. It was a hard job with long hours but you loved it, you couldn’t picture yourself doing something else. You were working on artificial organs, eyes specifically. After ten straight hours of work, you headed down to the microbiology department to get your friend and roommate Veronica (who said she’d come in later when you left at your usual 3:30 am because she wasn’t feeling well), drag her away from her desk, and go get lunch. You arrived on the floor, using your high clearance ID badge to enter the hallway. Everything looked normal, all except for Dr. Seldon. He looked even more jumpy and paranoid than usual. “Dr. Seldon?” He almost gave himself whiplash with how fast he turned around. “Y/N- Dr. Jin- Hi, uh, what are you doing here?”

“I’m... Looking for Veronica Song... Are you alright?”

“Uh, yes, yes, I’m fine. Veronica’s not here today, and- I just think that you should get back to your own floor.” He was jittery, eyes jumping from place to place, unable to remain still, looking at his watch every few seconds. “I have to go.” And before you could get another word out, he was gone. You nodded to yourself, shrugging off his behaviour, having heard stories about how paranoid the man could be. You were making your way back to the elevator, finding it odd that Seldon had left using the stairs considering everyone knew that the stairs from the basement labs to the first floor were an architectural nightmare. Again, you shrugged it off, he was probably abiding by some new internet conspiracy theory. The elevator was almost to the eighth floor when there was a loud, suction like pop. The elevator abruptly stopped, causing you to crash on the floor, the red emergency lights turned on. Getting onto your sore knees and wiping the blood from the side of your head, you dazily wobbled over to the emergency call button. “911, what is your emergency?”

“I’m at CCU in the biology building, stuck in an elevator, in between the basement labs and first floor... I hit my head... An- and it’s getting really hot in here. I- I can hear crackling, I think- fire? I think there’s a fire-”

“Yes, it’s just been reported by multiple people that there is a fire in the Zurich building on the CCU campus, hazmat situation. Just remain calm- Ms...?”

“Dr. Y/N Jin.”

“Alright just hold tight and stay on the line, every firefighter company within a 20-kilometre radius has been sent to this call.”

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

You felt like you were in an oven. Your lab coat and sweater had been shed, one dumped on the floor, the other used to stop the bleeding on your throbbing head. You had left yourself in only your lanyard, a thin flowery skirt, and a tank top that were both soaking up your sweat, but the elevator was getting so hot and so constricted that you were considering just shedding everything in an effort to cool down, if just for a moment. It was getting so difficult to breathe, smoke had taken up residence in the top of the elevator, and your dry throat was making it immensely more painful when you coughed, which was frequent.

“Fire department! You okay in there?”

You couldn’t speak, you were too tired, too weak to do so. So you mustered up enough energy to bang on the door. Only once, though, because the metal had heated up the metal door and burned your hand. There was the scraping of tools against the doors before a creaking sound took their place. Then as the gap went from nonexistent to halfway open you were met with the forms of two firefighters, faces and bodies obstructed by their equipment. You didn’t have to speak, before you could blink you had been pulled out of the elevator and into a firefighter’s arms... And a hallway filled with green fire. “Hi.”

“Try not to talk, okay?”

“Capp, have you found a way to break the glass to the lab?”

“No lieutenant! The glass is too thick!”

“The gas canisters,” you pointed to the massive metal cylinders that were stored across from the centrifuge lab, or glass lab as your heroes kept referring to it as, “coul- *cough* use as a batter- *cough cough cough* battering ram-” You were cut off by your own lungs and an incredibly painful coughing spree. “That could work. Hey, stand over here, Cruz, Capp, help me grab one of these.”

“You got it Severide!” The other two firefighters set down their tools and helped their lieutenant hold a gas canister horizontally before swinging in back and forward again, into the glass. It took what felt like too long for the glass to crack, and longer for it to shatter, providing an exit for your trapped colleagues. The ceiling above the firefighter who’d held you was guiding the trapped victims out of the room when you noticed that the ceiling above him was doing two things ceilings weren’t supposed to do; making unpleasant noises, and moving. You didn’t think, just acted. You moved away from the wall that lieutenant Severide had directed you to stand by and shoved him and the last victim out of the way. The burning chunk came down just behind you and singed your hair and the back of your skirt. Severide jumped into action, using a chemical fire extinguisher to put the fire out. “Okay; everyone out now.” Severide picked up your exhausted form and hauled ass out of the building with everyone else following his lead.

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

You couldn’t really remember much after being sprayed with a fire extinguisher, there were groggy flashes of being dragged through the decontamination tent by paramedics and people in blue suits, the ambulance ride with what you were 90% sure was an actual angel treating you, and doctors in PPE fluttering around you, poking and prodding and scanning you.

You came to in a hospital room that reeked of sanitization products, it seared your nostrils and quickly you felt another coughing fit coming on. There was a plastic lining around your mouth and nose, it was annoying, you tried to remove it but you couldn’t even lift your arm. “Hey, hey, hey, don’t move, okay? You’re at the hospital and you’re not stable, you need to remain calm and still”

‘Not stable’? C’mon, lady, give me some details, please!

“You were in a building with a chemical fire, and your roommate was just connected to multiple cases of necrotizing fasciitis, we’re testing your cultures now, but we won’t know for a while, okay? A doctor will be here to talk to you in a minute, okay?”

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

You’d been in the hospital for two weeks and were currently arguing with your insurance company, who were trying to get out of paying your hospital bill. You hung up, frustrated.

“Hey, is this a good time?”

“As long as you brought food.”

“Ha, always. You okay?”

“Yeah, my insurance company are just being- ughhhhh.”

“Ah, got it.” Kelly set out the food on the table tray in front of you, smirking at your excitement of non-hospital food. “You know, you don’t have to keep coming to see me.”

“Maybe I don’t have to, but I want to.”

“But I haven’t exactly been entertaining, this is the first time I’ve had enough energy to sit up. Remember? April had to spoon-feed me the food you brought me. I’ve been sleeping constantly and have literally fallen asleep while talking to you before. I’ve been awake for two hours and it is the longest I have been awake since the fire.”

“Hey, it’s not every day I get saved by a civilian, what can I say? You’ve piqued my interest.”

“Alright, well, if you’re gonna stay, you’re watching Star Trek with me.”

“Ugh, well when you put it that way-”

“Hey! Sit back down, I thought that I’d ‘piqued your interest’.”

“Yeah, but not enough to watch Star Trek. That’s a bit... Nerdy for me.”

“Oh come on! Pass me my laptop and sit down, we are going to watch Star Trek starting with The Original Series.”

“... How many Star Treks are there?”

“Not enough.”

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You were finishing up the first season with Kelly lying beside you in the hospital bed completely enthralled in the show when Doris walked in. “A sergeant Hank Voight is here to see you Y/N, I just figured I’d give you guys a heads up.” You nodded and closed your laptop, but Kelly didn’t have time to put his shoes back on or get out of your bed before Hank entered the room. He raised his eyebrow and stared down Kelly who, for his part, didn’t react like most did. He sat up at a normal speed and gave the older man a nod. “Hank, it’s good to see you.”

“You too, kid. How’re you holding up?”

“Good, good, especially with Kelly bringing me milkshakes.”

“Huh. Have the docs cleared you for all that junk?”

“Yes.” Kelly snorted at your response and rolled his eyes. “Just barely. And I think half the reason they approved it was cause you were a total pain in the ass about the glorious wonder that is hospital food. Uh, how do you and Voight know each other?”

“Oh, my older brother Sheldon used to work with him, I told you about him”

“Right, right, crazy smart, computer cop, and too loyal to your dad.”

“Yeah. After Sheldon died, Hank came to me and my mom, gave us cash to pay off my dad’s debts, told him to either be grateful and cut the crap or fucking run, and he checks up on me every so often. Like, uh, when I turned eighteen I applied to the academy and not only did Hank find out, but he came to my apartment and practically begged me not to go.”

“Hold up, I’m sorry, Sargent Hank ‘I can kill you thirteen different ways with a pencil eraser’ Voight begged?”

“As close to begging as I’ll ever get. Now, how do you two know each other?”

“He got me out of the elevator in the lab fire, then I saved his life a few minutes later.”

“Ha, sounds about right.”

“Hey!”

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

Matt Casey knocked on the door of the squad lieutenant, suspicious when his best friend jumped out of his skin, ripped his earbuds out of his ears, slammed his laptop shut, tossed it far away from him on the bed, and tried (while failing spectacularly) to look calm. “What’s up Casey?”

“... What the fuck was that?” Casey was laughing, excited that Severide was finally embarrassed about something. He jumped on the bed between Kelly and his laptop. “What are you embarrassed about?” Severide jumped into action, trying to maneuver around Casey to grab his laptop but it was too late. “Let me see! Let me see! Let me- OH MY GOD!” Casey had opened up the laptop before he could be stopped and he found a Next Generation episode halfway finished! “You’re watching Star Trek?! Oh my god Sylvie get-”

Kelly slammed the device shut again and covered Matt’s mouth with his hand. “Seriously man, shut up.” Severide got up and closed his door and lowered all the blinds. He turned to face his friend slowly and sighed. “Remember that girl from the BRT fire?”

“The one who saved you? Yeah, I remember her. I take it from your tone that you’ve been keeping up with her.”

“Yeah, I have. I’d been going to visit her every chance I got, and she was asleep most of the time I was there, cause you know, lung damage from the chemical fire, damage from the infection, had to have major surgery while her body was going through immense physical trauma, but when she was awake for longer than twenty minutes she’d insist on watching Star Trek, there’s multiple shows and movies, she loves them all, and she kind of got me hooked.”

“You are whipped. I am actually appreciating and savouring this moment so much right now.”

“Matt.”

“Okay, okay. Can I at least tell Sylvie?”

“No, you cannot tell your crush about this.”

“Hey! She’s- I do- Shut up, Kelly.”

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

While Matt did keep Kelly’s secret, you didn’t. You showed up in your favourite Voyager t-shirt from Etsy with a homemade chocolate cake in your hands. “Excuse me, I’m looking for Kelly Severide?”

“Sure, and you are?”

“Dr. Y/N Jin, I pushed him-”

“Out of the way at the lab fire, yeah I remember you. I’m Joe Cruz, I was there too, though you probably didn’t notice with him carrying you around.”

“Actually with all the gear you guys had on, I wouldn’t have been able to pick you out of a line-up. He just came to visit me a lot when I was in the hospital.”

“Oh, he did? Is that what the cakes for? A thank you?”

“No, it’s his birthday today, and because he’s on shift I didn’t know if he’d get a cake or anything. So I made his favourite and ordered a bunch of pizzas to be delivered here.”

“... You know his favourite cake flavour?”

“Yeah, it came up last week when we were watching this episode of Star Trek The Next Generation where this character keeps having-”

“Hold up, Lieutenant Kelly Severide watched Star Trek willingly?”

“Well, he didn’t at first, but now I think he’s a bigger fan than me... What?”

“Oh mi dulce Dios this is the best day of my LIFE! The common room is this way, follow meeeee!”

“... Why do I feel like I said something I wasn’t supposed to?”

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

“Attention firehouse 51; I have just been informed by a reliable source that our very own squad lieutenant Kelly Severide is a trekkie! And for those of you who don’t know what that means, KELLY SEVERIDE LIKES STAR TREK!” Suddenly the common room erupted, everyone laughing and howling, except for you, Kelly, and Matt. You’d spent much of your life having your interests mocked, all for various reasons. Too girly, too boyish, too nerdy, and you were having none of it. It took you ages to feel confident about your interests, so you knew exactly how devastated and embarrassed he felt. His neck and face were turning pink, he was lowering his head, his eyes were closed forcefully, and you could see him try to steady his breath. “Shut up.” The laughter lessened a bit and some people turned to you in confusion. “Are you guys deaf? I said shut up!” The room suddenly turned silent and cold, the members of 51 you hadn’t met yet looking at you in alarm. “Do you have any idea how rude and disrespectful all of you are being right now? You don’t get made fun of for obsessing over sports, why act this why for people who like sci-fi stuff? Kelly’s told me that you guys rib each other but this is a bit much. Did any of you stop to think that maybe you shouldn’t be behaving like elementary school bullies on his birthday?” At their awkward silence you scoffed. “You know what? I put effort into today, I made a cake from scratch, I ordered a ton of pizzas that I made sure had all of your favourite toppings because I know how close you are to him and I wanted all of you to like me. But you know what? Screw all of you. None of you get a single piece of cake or pizza unless you individually apologize to Kelly.” You huffed angrily, stomped over to the small circular table he was sitting at with a smirking Casey. “Happy birthday, Kelly... Sorry I made a scene.”

“Thanks, Y/N. This is turning out to be a great, dare I say badass birthday.” Your smile imitated his, large and beaming. “So,” Matt Casey drawled with an amused but impressed look on his face, “I get to have cake right?”

“Of course, how could I deny chocolatey goodness to my favourite firefighter?”

“Hey! I thought I was your favourite firefighter!” Kelly mockingly pouted, enticing laughter out of you. Your phone pinged and you smiled wider. “Pizza’s here.” You point at Matt and speak to Kelly, “watch him.”

“Of course, I’d never let anyone else get the first slice of my cake.”

“... Matt watch Kelly.” You turned on your heel and left to get the pizzas, brushing passed moping firefighters, ignoring the offended noises Kelly was spewing out.

You came back with six extra large pizzas to a line of bashful looking firefighters apologizing to Kelly. “You guys really will do anything for food, huh?”

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You’d only managed to get one slice of pizza and a tiny piece of cake once the ravenous wolves had apologized. You and Kelly had laughed it off though, finding their overexaggerated moans and gestures of how good the food was amusing. “Alright, one last thing.”

“What? No, come on Y/N you already made me a cake and got pizza for the house, you’ve done more than enough.”

“So you don’t want the envelope?”

“Well, if it’s just an envelope, that means it’s just a card, so sure.” You handed him the envelope you’d covered in ridiculous doodles of ladybugs, proud of your work, and knowing that Kelly was getting an awesome birthday. He opened the card after shaking is head at the ladybugs on the envelope and his mouth dropped when he saw the two tickets fall out. “Y/N! I told you, you didn’t have to get me anything!”

“How much money did you spend on food for me when you were visiting me in the hospital?”

“Okay, fair enough, but you really didn’t have to do all this.”

“Kelly, it really wasn’t that much. A cake, pizza, and baseball tickets that Matt pitched in for, really isn’t something to freak out over, okay?”

“Alright, well, thank you, Y/N. I appreciate everything that you’ve done so much and I’m grateful that I have you in my life.” Your heart fluttered and warmed, cherishing the moment you were sharing with the man who was quickly becoming irreplaceable to you. “Hello? I helped too!” Sylvie elbowed him in the ribs, “you ruined the moment, Matt.” She turned to you, still holding hands with Kelly on top of the table. “We’ll leave you two be, have fun.” She gave an uncharacteristic wink and started shooing people away. “Normally I’d be embarrassed, but this means that I do get more time with my favourite person AKA you, and since it’s my birthday, I would like to watch some Star Trek. C’mon, my quarters are this way.”

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Hours later, after shift was over and all normal people were asleep Kelly Severide finally arrived home... To what looked like the entire twenty-first police district along with the intelligence unit and Sergeant Trudy ‘I’m an army all on my own’ Platt crammed in his living room under dim, ominous lighting. “So, I take it you’re all here to threaten me because I’m dating Y/N? Yep, alright, let’s do this then.”

#One Chicago #Chicago Fire #Chicago PD #kelly severide x reader #Kelly Severide #matt casey #sylvie brett #hank voight #sheldon jin #joe cruz

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missingartist · 4 years ago

Text

The Witcher’s Mate Chapter 13

‘Fuck’ Geralt growled fiercely as he lunged at the tree, the poor tree had little defence again the Witcher’s blade, the wood splintered and groaned as the raging white-haired man thrust a heavy blow. At the young age of 158, the thick tree toppled in half with a dull thud, gashes and gouges oozed sap. Geralt kick the offensive tree in anguish, usually training against a tree was something that Geralt would leave to playing children. Still, for the lack of a better opponent, the tree was the unwilling sacrifice.

A vicious snarled vibrated across his chest; sweat dripping from his body since sunup causing his to cast off the shirt as he had been thrashing out his fury and urges on several helpless trees in the yard. For the past fortnight, he had spent every night chasing his release; eyes screwed shut as he pumped his cock relentlessly, pursuing the craving that could not be satisfied in an attempt to escape the fever that gripped her for a few hours sleep. As soon he had fisted himself to one orgasm, the desire for another seized upon him. The Witcher had not felt like this since he had the first transition from human to mutant, every sensation intense and overwhelming, for the first year, he walked around with a constant hard-on, hornier than a cat in heat. This felt worse; it was like his insides burning out. The smell of her permeated every surface and seeped into every fabric, which was smothering, but he could not manage without it.

Panting hard, he tossed his sword on the floor as chest rumbled as he roared, punching a sturdy leather bag that creaked in protest. The other side of the mages garden Adva was duelling against Triss. For an inexperience spell caster, she was holding her own, with difficulty but still nevertheless it impressive. A surge of pride filled his chest as Adva caught Triss off guard with a water shot, it shocked her challenger, and lightning bolt crashed down onto the puddle of water created that sent Triss into convulsions. A simple spell but clever strategy, his little mate, was cunning, it made him feel the warmth of delight, of course, he could still protect her but knowing she could have his back gave him pleasure. Triss countered with a violent force push that sent Adva hurtling backwards against a tree, the blouse she wore gapped open at the mid-drift, and the brown trouser ripped at the seam revealing a fleshy section of the thigh. A water swirl twisted round her while the winded women got back to her feet; this did not deter Triss. Wave after wave of assault battered down against the curly brunette, unbalancing her stance, Adva blocked a fair few blows, but the attack was relentless. Adva’s feet began to stumble and struggle to grip the earth beneath her, her arms flayed franticly to conjuring the spell, blood laced the air, and hard pants escaped her body.

‘Guard up, Adva.’

In a moment, the onslaught stops, Triss’s body froze, tense and twisted in place by some unseen force, her brown eyes swam with terror unable to move. Adva’s eyes narrowed in concentration; finger flexed tightly as the whole of Triss’s body went into a paralysis, arms tightly pressed into her body. A strained scream pushed itself through clenched teeth, Geralt’s eyes glided from one woman to the other, Adva stance immediately relaxed as she sent a panicked look over at the Witcher. The Mage fell with a thud. With a gurgled cough and a splutter. Adva knelt beside her teacher, eyes brimming with concerns.

‘Oh gods, Triss are you okay? Can you stand it? I am so sorry …I’ the young women half sobbed as she helped her mentor to her feet.

‘I am fine…I think…I think that is enough for today. I must be cramping up. I have some research I need to finish, Avda take the rest of the day off’ Triss shot a look over Adva’s shoulder before limping inside.

Geralt looked on pensively, hanging back as he observed the couple, his eyes followed Triss’s figure as she retreated into the house. It was certain that in the last couple of weeks, Adva had grown stronger and much more confident in her ability, but the book was still undeciphered, Triss had spent much time struggle across the passages. With every growing day, the concern increased to discover who or what she Adva was, as with every day the need Geralt felt increased, Triss’s potions only did so much to mellow the effect of their bond. Adva shifted nervously from foot to foot, her fingers twisting and winding in her hands. In their short time together, her hair had grown to swish around her shoulders, which she had pulled into a high pin undo affair, revealing her tendered neck, which meant her scent was even more pungent in the air. The sweat that collects was even more raw and fresh; his cock once again began to harden. To see his mate need comforting pulled out all the primal instincts to comfort, if he put his hands on her there was no telling what he would do and he couldn’t.

‘Will she be okay?’ Adva sniffed.

‘She will be fine’ Geralt grunted out before turning to stride back to his training.

Adva glanced between the house and the withdrawing Witcher, her eyes a swirl of apprehension before chasing after Geralt

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Wood exploded off the poor tree as Geralt thrashed and jabbed his hands into the wood. Surrounding her was a graveyard of trees, fragmented and ripped apart, the Witcher’s sword had broke 20 minutes ago, but this did not deter him. Instead, he now pummelled the battered wood with his bare fists as animalistic noise erupted from his chest. The man in front of her was totally wreaked, pure sin, bare-chested, and ever movement showed of his flexing chest, his hair a mess of silver strand, giving him a wild a dangerous look. Adva bites her lips as she gazed at him; the familiar ache between her thighs was back. In the dead, on the night, the throbbing would keep awake till the agony was too much. Her inexperienced hand clumsily made her down to her wet core, trying to bring herself to the edge; she would teeter for what felt like hours before sobbing in defeat and exhaustion into her pillow unsatisfied.

The longer she stood watching, the more aggressive he became. Despite the power of his thrusts, he seemed tired, the dark circle underneath his eyes were almost violet in colour against his golden skin. It did not escape her notice that he was breathing through his mouth rather than his nose as he moved which for a prised fighter seemed strange, but over the last week, a lot of things he did were strange. The aggressive whispered conversation between Triss and himself, the way he seemed to stalk everyone. He had become more aloof and moody, he would escort her to the town every morning, but often he would remain stony and unmoving if she dared bring up the unnecessary need for a chaperon he would all but bite her head off.

‘Geralt maybe you should stop… you don’t look well. Maybe you should try and get some sleep.’ Adva pleaded as she reached a hand out to grip his forearm.

‘Don’t you think I have fucking tried’ Geralt snarled recoiling back, with a pained scowl distorting his features as he marched deep into the ornament garden.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Geralt growled as he shifts from side to side. He tried adding and taking away pillows, arranging blankets then kicking them off. Flopping on his back Geralt huffed a piece of hair out of his eyes. His skin was covered in a thin layer of sweat from the almost permanent fever that had gripped him for days. The potion on his nightstand remained unopen and undrunk; they had a little effect on halting the effect of their bond. In honesty, he was sure Triss had not up the dosages as he demanded to drive the pair together. Groaning the heat spiked again as he smelt the intoxicating scent of apples and the ocean but there was something more, a musky, earthy scent. Geralt has smelt her desire, and in his weaker moments though of nothing more than throwing her down in the long grass and doing things that would make a harlot blush. The Witcher’s fingers dug into the bedding; he knew that smell, the one that would bombard the house at night. In the dead of night, he could smell her touching herself, a desperate and frantic smell that took all his self-control not to march into her room rip her nightclothes off and ravage her untouched body.

A soft knocked tapped pieced the deadly quiet of the room ‘Geralt can I come in?’ the tender voice of his mate called from behind the door.

‘Fuck off’ roared Geralt and threw a pitcher of water against the door.

Adva waited a moment, taking several deep breaths before she swung the door open. A soft gasp escaped her lips as her eyes drank in the scene in front of her. Geralt was sprawled across the bed, a white bed sheet the only thing cover his lower half and chest still bare and shinning in the flickering candlelight.

‘I said fuck off’ the white-haired man raged with glowing amber eyes.

Adva sidestepped the shattered vase on the floor, keeping her eye on the floor to stop herself ogle the man in front of her.

‘Geralt…please let me help. Jaskier told me you have trouble sleeping. I have balm.’ Adva held out a bowl of ingredient, looking through a forest of hair hopefully at the man.

Geralt eyes soften as he settled down in the middle of the bed and tapped the empty at his side before folding them behind his head, looking at her out of the corner of his eye. ‘What is it?’

‘4 sprigs of Lavender, two blobs of Flobberworm Mucus, Valerian Sprigs, Sunflower oil and beeswax and my secret ingredient.’ Adva listed off as she added a splash of alcohol to the wax-like substance and turned it into a fragrance balm, Geralt could help but smile as she placed the bowl between them and began to mix the whip the mixture into a pale purple paste.

When she was creating some potion, she looked at her happiest, content and smiling. Geralt notice that about her first then how she refuse to follow ingredient and instruction much to Triss’s frustration instead measuring things out by hand and substituting ingredient she thought would be a better fit. His little mate was a maverick.

‘How did you come across this concoction?’ Geralt sniffed as the air filled with lavender and valerian.

‘Being a maid in a brothel comes with learning a few things, the sorts of melodies I would make salves and balm for would make even you fearless Witcher’s flinch.’ Adva smiled as she continued to mix, occasionally stopping to add a few drops of alcohol to the solution.

Geralt wrinkled his nose at the thought ‘I can imagine.’

‘Here. Rub it into your chest before you sleep in will help ease you in a dreamless slumber. The more you put on, the deeper your sleep.’ Adva smiled tenderly at the tired Witcher. In the soft light of escaping through the curtain make Geralt almost look sweet, unguarded and vulnerable.

‘I can’t’ Geralt fake coughed ‘I am too ill.’ Another cough.

‘Fake coughing isn’t going to work. I have seen all the tricks’ Adva smiled at his feeble attempt.

‘You’re too caring to leave me here just in case I am telling you the truth. I am too weak’ Geralt raised his eyes brow at her as he gestured to his eyes to his chest.

‘Geralt I have just seen you destroy all the trees in the garden, I very much doubt your too weak to rub a little balm onto your chest.’ Adva countered, pushing the balm towards him.

‘That why I am too weak’ Geralt opposed, pushing the bowl back, letting his large digits brush against hers, enjoying the delicate blush that had started to form.

Half-heartedly huffing, Adva scoped up the soft paste in her fingers and warmed it between her palms. She slowly began to massage the purple paste into his chest, earning a deep moan from him. Beneath her finger, she could feel his coarse chest hair, it rubbed enticingly against her skin, another scope of balm was added, and she smoothly rubbed large soft circles in his chest. Avda worked at relaxing the tense muscles in his chest; it took considerable effort by Geralt didn’t protest. Instead, he lay contented under her hands, purring gently as she worked in the paste. Glancing up a coy smile tugged on the corners of her mouth; the golden orbs held hers for a few moments before the heavy lids different shut. Slowly, her hands slackened as the Witcher’s begin to drift.

‘Stay with me’ he whispered, grabbing her hands and holding them to her chest as he succumbed to exhaustion.

‘Good night Geralt’ Adva whispered, pressing her lip lightly to his forehead as she caressed his cheek as she lazed next to him.

I couldn't stop my self from posting. Some very exciting chapters coming up.

If you would like to be tagged please message me.

@broco8 @introvertedmouse @threepupsinapuddle @shesthelastjedi @luxyash @celestial-vomit

#geralt imagine #geralt x reader #witcher geralt #geralt smut #Geralt #geralt of rivia #geralt x oc #geralt reader #witcher 3 #witcher netflix #the witcher

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enigmatic-elegance · 5 years ago

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RP Tips! (From a medic)

Hello friends! So in my time RPing, I sometimes come across small instances of inaccuracy when it comes to certain injury related things. Of course, we write in a fantasy world here. A world where you can be actually dead and walking around, or have a magic glow protect you from harm, or alchemy to completely block pain, or any other number of fanciful things!

This is not a dig at -anyone’s- RP, I promise! You should write in whatever way is most fun for you. I’m making this more for the one or two people who aim for total accuracy but might miss a few things at times. Let’s get into it!

Punched/Hit on the Nose

Misconception: You have a warrior, seen a lot of battle, done their time. Someone winds up and decks them across the nose bridge. They are wobbled back a bit but rise up, blood dripping from their nose, and they smirk.

Reality: Being hit on the nose sucks. A lot. If you want some of the experience without the danger, lay one finger right across the tip and tap it with your other hand’s fingers over and over. You might not feel agony, but your eyes will likely water and you might feel itching into your cheeks and lips. This is because the nerves of the face are all -very- interconnected. Being whacked across the nose is not only going to hurt a ton, but it’s going to blind you and disorient you no matter how tough you are.

Bonus Fact: A punch to the jaw does not knock you out by stopping nervous signals to the brain. It hyper-stimulates it. As the brain rattles inside the fluid-filled skull it is bombarded by signals firing off all at once. This sends the brain into overload followed by a temporary paralysis as it attempts to ‘reboot’. This is why you go unconscious.

Neck Breaking

Misconception: It’s the dead of night. A soldier stands guard by the main gate, eyes scanning the night with a bored expression. He does not hear the footsteps until it’s far too late. A pair of hands grip his cheeks, and with a swift twist his lifeless body hits the dirt.

Reality: Breaking a neck is actually surprisingly difficult to do in hand to hand, even if you are trained. It’s not enough to twist the neck, or to tilt the head, you need to do both. Moreso, you are fighting against all the musculature in the neck, and depending on how built your foe is that can be a lot. Breaking the neck would take a lot of leverage, you can’t just use your hands. You’d need to use your whole arm, torso, and abdomen to gain enough leverage while also keeping their body still at the same time. It can be done, of course. Just not as easy as the films like you to think.

Bonus Fact: Did you know you can’t break your own neck with your hands? Set aside the fact that we are built with inhibitors that prevent self damage of that magnitude, we actually can not generate the leverage needed without rotating our shoulders and thus offloading the pressure on the spine.

Choked Out

Misconception: The struggle spilled from the chair onto the floor. The thief had their arms wrapped firm around the throat of the book keeper, and though he squirmed the color built up in his face. Eventually, the fight ceased. His body fell limp as he blacked out. The thief slides the body to a nearby dresser to stash where none would find him. The thief had bought themselves some time.

Reality: The thief has bought themselves next to nothing. Choke holds don’t typically put someone out by cutting off their air supply. You in fact put pressure on the vessels and arteries that keep the brain supplied with blood. Without it, a person blacks out. However once the hold is released, blood supply is restored and a person wakes up almost immediately. They might be very dazed for a minute as they try and remember where they are and what happened, but they won’t be out for hours as is often assumed.

Bonus Fact: Want to kill someone by cutting off air supply? You’d better clear your schedule. It can take upwards of 3-5 minutes. The lungs hold a lot of air that never partakes in oxygen exchange, called ‘dead space’. Even if you cut off air supply, the lungs can continue to harvest that dead space even into unconsciousness. Unless the space is replaced with something like water (e.g. Drowning) you are going to need to wait a few minutes for death to come.

Getting Shot

Misconception: Another bullet impacted the warrior’s chest, but he would not fall. He gripped his blades tighter as another bullet ripped into his abdomen, and another to his shoulder. He would not stop, fury in his eyes as he charged.

Reality: He’d stop. Being shot is a nightmare. The human body can take a lot of punishment, and I’ve seen people with 20+ stab wounds walk to my ambulance. However, most modern rounds are dispensed at high velocity which tear the flesh on impact and the rounds themselves are designed to tumble, ricochet, or fragment within a body for maximum internal damage. The body can only take so much before it shuts down, no matter how angry or determined a person is. Usually one or two well placed rounds to the body will drop you.

Bonus Fact: Using older weapons? Might even be worse. Those rounds were solid round balls. They’d take a person off their feet at center of mass and rip chunks out of limbs as they zipped by like mini cannon balls.

- - - - -

I have more but this is already long enough. Remember, this is not me saying you -have- to RP this way. It’s way more dramatic and cool to have the person who is superhuman because that’s what makes fantasy fantasy. Take what you want from this if you take anything at all, and I hope you enjoyed! Thanks for reading!

#ooc #RP guide

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horansqueen · 4 years ago

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You & Me : chapter 31

A Niall Horan fanfiction ; rated MA

Sequel to AM CONVERSATIONS

CHAPTER 1 || CHAPTER 2 || CHAPTER 3 || CHAPTER 4 || CHAPTER 5 || CHAPTER 6 || CHAPTER 7 || CHAPTER 8 || CHAPTER 9 || CHAPTER 10 || CHAPTER 11 || CHAPTER 12 || CHAPTER 13 || CHAPTER 14 || CHAPTER 15 || CHAPTER 16 || CHAPTER 17 || CHAPTER 18 || CHAPTER 19 || CHAPTER 20 || CHAPTER 21 || CHAPTER 22 || CHAPTER 23 || CHAPTER 24 || CHAPTER 25 || CHAPTER 26 || CHAPTER 27 || CHAPTER 28 || CHAPTER 29 || CHAPTER 30

NOTES:

-one chapter is her pov, the next is his. -4.3k -im sorry, i never proofread, i hate it. -there WILL be smut. but not only smut. -this is a romance, comedy, smut story. -for the summary, check my MASTERLIST.

- notes: not many ppl give me feedbacks these days so idk if ppl are losing interest or just busy but yea, i miss it. also, i know i normally update every other day but most likely, my next chapter will be up sunday and not saturday because i have plans! thanks!

if you want to be on the list of blogs i notify when this is updated, just message me :)

requests! : i changed them a bit to fit the story but i hope you like it!

Chapter 31 : His chapter

NIALL

I had everything packed for days but I had hidden all my stuff in a wardrobe, in my room. Still, my eyes always moved there by themselves as if i was dreading all of this. It was like that specific wardrobe was on fire and I had simply closed the door and ignored it. I didn't want to think about being away from her.

I had spent all my time with Olivia when I was not at rehearsal but I already missed her. I had no idea how tough it would be to be away from her for weeks but I knew it was going to be bad. We often ended up at my place just to cuddle and watch tv simply because it was easier and we didn't have to always check if we were papped or recognized. We also didn't have to stop ourselves from showing each other affection which was a good thing because I knew we'd have to restrain our impulses when she'd join me on tour.

I felt her foot run up my leg under the table and put my gaze back on her, making her smile as she held her glass of wine up.

"You're not listening to me, are you?"

My lips parted and she chuckled, taking a sip of her glass. It was her third one and I grabbed my own, tilting it a bit to make the dark liquid move as I looked at it.

"I'm sorry, pet, what were you saying?" I asked, looking up in her eyes as she sent me a sad smile.

"Just that I'm jealous you're going to Ireland." she pointed out. "And without me, too."

My heart ached at the thought and I moved closed on the table, leaning my elbows on it.

"Come with me. I want to start this tour with you."

Her eyes went soft and she tilted her head on the side, glancing down at her hand before looking up at me and I just knew she was going to refuse. I could also read in her eyes that she wanted to come, and that the answer she had to give me really hurt her.

"I can't. We start filming in 2 days. I have a scenes and I have to check the text and everything." she explained before sighing. "I wish I could come, though, I miss it."

I felt something twist in my heart but I was not sure if it was because she couldn't come with me or because she was about to spend time with her ex fiance. Perhaps it was a bit of both, and when I felt her foot move up my leg under the table again, I held my breath.

"So I hate to ask but, how do you feel about playing the girlfriend of the man you were supposed to marry?" I wondered, putting my glass back on the table and leaning against my chair.

Her eyes dropped to her plate and her foot moved away from my leg. The atmosphere felt heavy suddenly and I had the feeling that she didn't expect me to ask this question. It was our last dinner together and I had made sure I cooked something she loved, turn down the lights with the dimmer, bought her fave wine and put music in the background. But I was ruining it at the moment and it bothered me.

"I didn't know when I should tell you I just..." she sighed and looked up in my eyes, tilting her head. "I texted Dylan and I'm supposed to go for dinner with him tomorrow night, after you leave."

I put my fork back in my plate and frowned, pressing my lips together. "Should I worry?"

"No. But it's important that we have a good connection.. or at least that we don't hate each other." she explained with a shrug. "I want to know how he feels, and what he wants. I mean, I'm new to this business, but I want to make things right."

I reached for her hand and she looked up. I sent her a small smile and nodded. "Hey, I get it."

She licked her lips and squeezed my fingers, holding my hand and grabbing her glass with her other one. She took a sip and finally let go of my hand. It only took a minute until I felt her foot on my leg again and this time, the left corner of my lips moved up.

"You can't help it, can you?" I joked with a chuckle.

"Nop!" she replied with a smile. "I have to always touch you."

"What are you gonna do when I'll be away mm?"

This was meant as a joke but her smile fell and she shrugged. It suddenly made me think of all the nights I'd fall asleep without her, all the morning I wouldn't wake up holding her, all the meals I'd eat without her. I grimaced and shook my head.

"I keep ruining this evening over and over, don't I?"

"No, all your questions are legit." she just said in a soft tone, tilting her head on the side. "I don't know what I'll do when we'll be away. Hold my pillow against me and pretend it's you, perhaps."

"And when you're horny?" I asked with a smirk.

"Hump my pillow and pretend it's you." she replied quickly, making me laugh.

"I don't want to go." I let out in a whisper, making her raise her eyebrows. "I mean yea, I want to go out there and do music but, I can't stand to be away from you."

She stared at me with soft eyes and let out a chuckle but there was no amusement in her tone. It sounded more like sadness, or something that came close to nostalgia.

"It's true." I added, making her shake her head.

"No I know, I was just thinking... if you had never broken up with me, I would probably had followed you, you know? So we would be together. But at the same time, I'd still be that fragile, insecure person that depends on you and, I don't want that." she admitted with a small shrug. "I like who I've become, and I love my job. I don't want to be the kind of girlfriend who follows her boyfriend everywhere without having her own projects, her own life."

I held my breath and licked my lips. I knew what she meant, and I totally understood, but I didn't feel like I ever saw her as this dependent and fragile girl she was talking about. Was I just blind to it?

"I think you don't need someone who'll just follow you around. The times you were the most attracted to me were the times I didn't need you, the times I knew what I wanted, who I was and what I deserved. I mean, I know you love me because of who I am, but you were drawn to me more when I wasn't all over you."

No matter how hard I thought, I couldn't decide if she was right or wrong but if she was right, I really never did that on purpose, and I never even realized it.

"One time, when we were apart, I missed you so much and I couldn't handle it anymore. You had moved here, and I read on your web site that it was the premiere of your tv show." I admitted, shaking my head and looking down at my glass before quickly taking the last sip. "So I put clothes on, grabbed a cap, and went to the premiere."

I looked up only to see her frowning with her lips parted. I had all her attention and it made something stir in my stomach.

"I waited a few hours just to see you, and when I did, I just watched you pause for the cameras, flashes everywhere, and all that shit. You were with Dylan but I barely noticed him because you were literally glowing. I was seeing you happy. Very very happy. I remember trying to find a time where you were this happy with me. And I realized that you didn't need me anymore." I waited until she looked up in my eyes again to keep talking. "You've always been a strong and smart woman, but at that very specific moment, I knew I was not important anymore. You didn't need me, you didn't long for me anymore, and even if I tried to convince myself that you would always love me somehow, it was fucking tough."

There was a moment of a silence and she just pushed the air out of her lungs as a small smile appeared on her lips.

"That day I could swear I saw you, and... I thought I was hallucinating you. Black cap, white Nike shirt... I came to the conclusion that my mind was just playing tricks on me. I knew I was not over you but I was trying to move on and when I lost you in the crowd I decided you weren't really there." she chuckled again but her lips curled too. "It was really you."

"Yep, was me, i'm sorry."

She stared at me some more and slowly, her head tilted on the left and her lips curled more.

"You really never stopped loving me." she pointed out in a murmur, as if she was now realizing it, or believing it.

"Not a second, Olivia."

She teared up suddenly and I felt my heart break. I reached for her hands as she let tears fall down her cheeks. I didn't want this, I didn't want to make her cry, or hurt her, and here I was, doing exactly that. Again.

"I'm so sorry, Liv, please, I'm sorry." I repeated, my face twisting with pain. "Please, come here."

I pulled on her hands and she breathed in, getting up as I spread my legs to give her space. I felt the need to get her closer, to feel her body against mine and I just tapped my thigh, making her chuckle through her tears and shake her head.

"Sit down." I whispered, sending her a sad smile.

"No," she sniffed. "I'll crush you."

"Sit the fuck down."

She raised her eyebrows but her smile was still intact and she moved away to let me press my thighs together before sitting on me. One of her arms wrapped around my neck and she moved dangerously close, making my lips curl more. I could see every trait of her face, from the gold around her pupils to the little scar near her mouth from when we were kids and she fell off the stairs. She smelled amazing, the same mix of honey and vanilla I was used to, and I wrapped both my arms around her waist.

"Not too heavy?" she wondered, raising her eyebrows again and making me frown.

"Stop saying stupid things, will you?" I let out. "I know you gained weight, I know you hate it, and you need to know two things. First of, I love it. And second of, I'm a tank baby, you've never met a strong man like me."

This time, she started laughing, letting her head fall back as a long laughter boomed out of her open lips. Just watching her laugh made me happy and I let out a chuckle as I watched her. I pulled her closer and one of my hands ended on her thigh, making her look back at me.

"Be honest. Did you stop loving me, at some point?"

Her eyes roamed on my face and she moved closer again, kissing my upper lip very slowly. She was so soft and gentle all the time and I missed that in my life. I missed her touch and how tender and loving she was, especially with me. When she was not in my life anymore, all I could think about was that I missed her, but I also missed everything she did, everything she said, everything she was. It's the little things I missed the most and those things, she was giving them back to me. Slowly, and by little waves, but I was still getting samples from time to time. I was greedy, though, I wanted all of them, and right now, but I would wait for her. A lifetime or two, no doubt. Maybe even three.

"I hated you." she admitted in a murmur, her lips brushing against mine. I felt my heart shatter and swallowed a lump in my throat. "I hated you, I cursed you, I wished you wrong. I complained about you, I bitched about you, I cried and yelled about you."

I blinked a few times, trying to keep my emotions in. Even if I couldn't blame her, it felt like someone had stuck a knife in my stomach and was twisting it with each of her words. I kept quiet. I couldn't talk anyway, and she kept going.

"But not one second, I stopped loving you." she whispered, bringing her hand to my cheek and running her fingertips on my stubble before slipping them in my hair. "I've been in love with you for 20 years, Niall. I think after all this time, falling out of love is impossible. There's a point you reach that you just know, deep inside, that the love you feel is there to stay. I've reached that point. A long time ago."

"But you hated me." I argued in a breath before she sighed.

"Trust me, it's possible to hate and love someone at the same time. I hated you because I loved you so much."

I didn't even know if it made sense but I just nodded.

"I don't hate you now, Niall. I feel many many things for you but nothing negative, I promise."

She kissed my lips again and tugged at my hair very gently as her mouth traveled on my lips and jaw. I remained motionless, my hand burning on her thigh while she showed me affection, and with the way her hands and lips moved on me, I knew she was not lying. There was something special and unique in the softness of her touch that talked louder than a voice could, that explained better than words would.

It took me a few minutes to react but a bit roughly, I brought my hands to cup her face and kissed her harder. Her lips parted more to deepen the kiss and I moved closer to her, my hands now running on her back and her arms before I let one of my hands slip under her shirt. I wanted her so bad and it was so sudden that I could feel my whole body throb.

"I'm gonna miss you so fucking much, petal." I admitted low, allowing my lips to leave her briefly before crushing my mouth on hers again. "Let me make love to you, yea?"

I got up, making her do the same, and grabbed her waist, turning her around and pressing her against the windows behind her. I let my mouth move avidly to her neck as I started breathing harder. She took her shirt off and I did the same with mine, throwing it away before pressing my body against hers. One of her hands reached for my cock and she grabbed it over my pants as my lips moved to her breasts. I moved her straps down and pulled on her bra to expose her nipples and my lips wrapped around one immediately. I sucked on it, making her whimper low and finally let my mouth brush down to her stomach until I reached her pants, unzipping them quickly and helping her take them off. She stood there, only in her underwear, and I pulled the side of her panties away to press my lips against her pussy.

"Oh my god."

I grabbed one of her legs and moved it up, putting it on my back to hold it, and spread her lips more before slipping my tongue down on her slit until it was inside her and bringing it back up to her clit. I sucked on it for a while and felt her fingers pull on my hair. I got the hint and moved back up, unzipping my pants too and getting undressed as she stared at me, lips parted. I moved closer to her, feeling my dick rub on her thighs and she moved her leg around me again. I ground my hips against her a few times and when I felt my tip slip inside her, I let out a short groan.

"I want to make love to you, not fuck you for 5 stupid minutes and cum."

She laughed and smiled as I looked at her. She tilted her chin up to look in my eyes better and I searched for her hands, grabbing them and bringing them on the walls, on each sides of her head. She held them there and I slid my fingertips on the inside of her arms before reaching her palms and intertwining out fingers together. I pushed myself a bit deeper inside of her and she let out a low whimper, her eyes never leaving mine.

"I love you so much." I whispered. "I promise you'll never have to hate me. Ever again."

She nodded quickly and bit her bottom lip. "Okay."

I pushed myself completely inside her and felt my eyes flutter at the feeling.

"You feel incredible."

I brought my face closer and started thrusting in and out of her slowly but at a regular pace. My lips brushed against hers with every jerk and I didn't let go of her fingers. I felt her squeeze my hands harder and from time to time, she'd kiss my lips as I moved, or would let out a low moan.

"I love you. I love you, Olivia."

Her face twisted and I could swear she was about to cry. I pushed my body against hers more and kissed her lips a few times before kissing her deeper but still very slow. I didn't want her to cry, I wanted her to cum.

"N-Niall." she breathed out before I pulled away slightly and saw her shut her eyes tight. "Oh my god, I'm cum-"

She couldn't finish her sentence and started shaking between me and the window. I kept moving in and out of her but watching her get an orgasm made me reach mine and I leaned my forehead against hers as I came inside her, squeezing her hands maybe a bit too tight.

We were both a panting mess when we were done but we still remained motionless, our bodies pressed together, my forehead leaning against hers and our fingers intertwined on each side of her head.

"I love you too, Niall."

I smiled at her words and finally moved away and told her I'd be right back. When I got out of the bathroom, I had put sweatpants on and she was now wearing my shirt along with her panties, which I believed was her best outfit. The music was still playing in the living room and I extended my hand to her and raised my eyebrows.

"You wanna dance?"

"Here?" she smiled. "In your living room?"

I didn't answer but she just licked her lips and put her hand in mine. I made her twirl around and she giggled before I pulled her closer the same way I had at the wedding but for some obvious reason, it felt way more intimate. She leaned her head on my shoulder and it made me suddenly very happy.

I had found a radio station that only played music from the 90's and I knew it would make her happy. A slow song started and she chuckled as I pulled her closer.

"I love that song."

It took me a few seconds to remember that it was a Savage Garden song and when the lyrics said 'I love you more with every breath' I felt her lips on my neck, brushing up to my ear.

"I love you, Niall." she repeated. "I wish you wouldn't have to leave."

"Me too, petal, me too."

---

The next day, we were both numb and sad and we did everything mechanically, stealing a few kisses from time to time as we walked by each other while getting prepared. I wanted her to come with me to the airport but I knew she wouldn't and I didn't insist. My bags were out of the wardrobe and were now waiting for me near the door, taunting me and making my heart break every single time I saw them.

"Okay, you got your passport?" she asked, standing in front of me.

I nodded and she did the same.

"Phone? Both of them?"

"Yea, I do."

She stared at me with teary eyes but still managed to send me a smile. I breathed in and out loudly and was about to pull her close in a hug when she reached for her ear, making me frown. She took one of her earrings off and handed it to me, her head tilting on the right. I remained motionless and she raised her eyebrows, moving her hand a bit closer to me.

"You still got your ear pierced, right?"

"It's your grandma's, I can't accept it I mean, what If I lose it?"

"Then don't lose it." she just argued, taking a step closer to me before putting it in my ear and locking it.

I closed my eyes and breathed her perfume in. When she was done, I wrapped my arm around her waist and kept her close to me.

"Thank you." I whispered, burring my face in her neck.

"Every time you see it, you promise you'll think about me?" she asked, gripping the front of my shirt in her fist.

"I promise. But I'll already be thinking about you." I pointed out, making her chuckle low.

She pulled away after a while and her smile grew when she saw it on my ear. "Now we match!" she giggled this time, making me laugh a bit and shake my head.

"You’re ridiculously perfect." I pointed out, pulling her closer again and wrapping my arms around her neck this time. Her arms slithered around my waist and I kissed her head, squeezing her tight against me.

"Oh! I have something else for you!"

She got out of my embrace and rushed to the room as I shook my head. It was totally her kind to forget about something she wanted to give me until last minute and it was almost a miracle that she didn't completely forget about it. She came back, jogging to me, and handed me a box. I frowned and looked up at her only to see her biting her bottom lip, eyebrows raised.

"What it is?"

"Short letters." she explained, licking her lips nervously. "I wrote one for every show you have. The name of the place and the date is written on each envelop. You can not open them before. You have to open each envelop right before you go on stage for every show. Not 30 minutes before, not in-between two songs or later when you're at your hotel. You get your guitar, open the letter, read it, and then immediately go on stage. You think you can do that?"

I pushed the air out of my lungs as my lips curled but remained parted. I opened the box only to see a bunch of envelops of different colors waiting for me inside and when I looked up, she was smiling wide, probably because of my reaction.

"That's... fuck, Liv." I let out, impressed. "That's a great idea and you know what? I'm gonna film myself opening every single one of them so you know I did it right before going on stage. I'll answer your messages in videos and send them to you."

Her face illuminated and she jumped slightly, making me laugh.

"How about we make a private instagram? We can both add things there? Share a password? And make it private, of course."

I made her an amused face and laughed. "Oh, look who loves social medias all of a sudden!"

She shrugged and I could swear her cheeks turned a soft shade of pink. "It's just for you and me, no one else. I mean, think of all the things we can post."

"Pretty sure nudity is not tolerated." I joked, making her raise her nose up in a cute grimace.

"Don't worry, I'll send you nudes directly in your text messages."

I moved my eyebrows and smirked, bringing my mouth on hers. "Mm, I really hope so."

We kissed gently and slowly for a while, as if it could push back my departure, and when we stopped, she kept her lips against mine and sighed.

"I'm in love with you, Niall. I'll miss you."

"I'm in love with you too, petal. I'll miss you more."

We sighed and I held her hand as we pulled away and took a step back until I was almost out of reach. She moved her upper body forward to keep holding my hand but when her fingers slipped out of mine, I saw her tear up and sniff. It was so hard to see that I just grabbed my stuff and turned around, walking out until I heard her voice again.

"Niall! Wait!"

I turned to look at her and she was crying. It broke my heart and I swallowed hard.

"Say it again. Please say it one last time before you leave."

I felt my heart break in my chest and dropped all the bags, rushing back to her and cupping her face to kiss her hard and intensely. She answered the kiss and moaned in my mouth.

"I'm in love with you." I whispered. "I'm so fucking in love with you."

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