#but i need to go to sleep before the painkillers stop working | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sanguineterrain · 8 months ago

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Sanne can we get a part 2 for reporter!reader?? Picking up where it first left off their first night in the same home - and there's only 1 bed! - and reader shares the bed with him with the promise of not looking at his unmasked face in the middle of the night? And like them realizing over the next few days that they have very similar habits like tendencies to work throughout the night once they've got a lead and not having a set sleep schedule/unconventional sleeping hours.

OKAY HERE WE GO! be fed my lovelies <3 didn't exactly do one bed but hopefully you like it anyway ;) pt 2 of this

jason todd x gn!reporter!reader. nightmares, hurt/comfort, jason sexy mf todd being a domestic dreamboat. 2.4k. pls enjoy

****

The Red Hood's apartment is... not at all what you expected.

It looks lived in. It, as awful a thought as it is, looks like an actual person lives here.

And it's not that you didn't know that Hood has a life outside of shooting and scaring, but the giant ficus and the overstuffed bookshelf seem paradoxical to everything you know about Hood.

You're realizing that you don't know him at all.

"So, uh." Hood awkwardly gestures to the apartment. "This is it. Welcome."

"It's nice," you say, stepping over the threshold. "Really nice. I'm a little jealous, Red."

"What can I say? Being public enemy number one is surprisingly lucrative."

You wander to the kitchen. There's a picture of him and a red-headed masked man who looks vaguely familiar. The man is smiling, his arm around Hood. There's a city skyline behind them you don't recognize.

"Where's that?" you ask. You don't expect him to answer.

"Morocco."

"I didn't know you had friends," you say, studying the Welcome to Vegas! magnet that's holding up the picture.

"Ouch."

"No, I—" You turn, shaking your head. "Sorry, no. I meant, like, people you do fun things with."

"Mm, yeah, I know what a friend is."

"Red, you know what I mean. I didn't know you took selfies and kept plants and read."

"Thought I was friendless and illiterate, huh?" He leans against the kitchen table, fist tucked under his helmet. "Y'wouldn't be the first."

"Hood—"

He snorts, shoulders shaking. You stop.

"That's not funny," you say, rolling your eyes. "Jerk."

"It's a little funny. You're always so sharp with your words, smartypants. No, while I'm very literate, friends are admittedly far and few. Arsenal's my closest friend."

"Is he also a crime lord?"

"Nah. Way better guy than me."

You look back at the picture and wonder how often Hood gets to experience joy. And when was the last time he had a vacation?

You feel a gentle tug at the back of your jacket.

"C'mon. You can snoop more later, promise. Lemme show you your room."

Hood takes your suitcase before you can protest. You follow him down the hall. There's one door to the bathroom—the other is to a single bedroom.

The bedroom is nice, bigger than yours at home. It's sort of what you expected (i.e., the mounted katanas on the wall) but also not (a giant framed poster of the 2005 Pride and Prejudice film).

Holy hell. You're in the Red Hood's bedroom.

"Hood, I can't sleep here," you say, watching as he puts your suitcase in the corner.

The bed has been made, sheets tucked in without a single wrinkle. They're in various shades of red. You're sure Hood thinks he's hilarious.

"Why? If the swords are putting you off, I can move 'em."

"No, it's—I can't take your room, Hood. There's no way I'm doing that."

He shakes his head. "No, trust me, it's for the best. That couch is only comfortable to sleep on after a dose of painkillers."

"Dude, I am not making you sleep on the couch in your own house."

"Well, dude, I'm the host, and I'm the big and scary Red Hood, so what I say goes."

"Like either one of us actually believes that," you say, brushing past him to grab your suitcase. "I'm not kicking you out of your bed. It's–it's very sweet of you to offer. But you physically exert yourself every day. You need a comfortable bed more than I do. Besides, it's not like I'll be here for long."

Hood steps in front of you, casually blocking your exit.

"Well, try this on for size: my room is more secure than my living room," he says. "If someone were to break in, they'd have to get through me out there first."

That... is, unfortunately, a good point. You're still extremely paranoid after the assassination attempt two nights ago.

"You're so manipulative, y'know that?" you grumble, leaving your suitcase where it is.

"I know. I come from a real fucked up family." He doesn't sound too put out by it.

"But if you get injured on patrol, I'm sleeping on the couch."

He pats your shoulder. "'S cute you think you can bargain in my house, smarty."

****

Dinner goes well. Hood makes beef bolognese and it's delicious. You take an extra long time in the bathroom before bed so Hood has enough time to eat, considering his refusal to remove his helmet. You'd offered to blindfold yourself—he'd just laughed.

"Sure you don't want your room? It is, after all, yours," you say when you come out, fresh from your shower.

Hood glances at you briefly from where he's washing dishes. He's out of his jacket and suit, now only in jeans and a white t-shirt. Your face feels hot for some reason.

"I'm sure. Cute robe."

"Oh." You look down at the Wonder Woman robe your friend gave you. "Thanks. Got it for my birthday."

"I'll have to get myself one too," Hood says, drying a glass with a polka dot tea towel. "Big Wonder Woman fan."

"Yeah? We solve this case, and I'll get you all the robes you want, Red."

"Tempting."

You chew your lip as you watch him clean up. "Want any help?"

"Go to sleep, star reporter." He sounds amused.

"You try to be a polite guest only to get shot down..." you mumble.

On your way to Hood's room, you get distracted by a pile of documents on the coffee table. You stop, picking up the corner to read one. They're about the case, about all the labs that might be involved in the experiments.

Well... you can read just one. It seems like Hood's compiled a lot of information on his own.

You stand for a bit until your legs grow tired. Then you sit on the couch, making notes of what you do and don't know on a nearby writing pad.

"Did you get lost?"

Hood's watching you, leaning against the wall. It's weird to see his bare arms. His very sculpted, muscled arms. You think you peek a tattoo on his bicep.

"My attention was caught," you say, unrepentant. "Anyway, there's a lot of stuff I haven't seen. You've been holding out on me, Red."

"'S just theories, mostly. Didn't feel it was relevant to mention without hard proof."

"Ever hear of a work-life balance?" you ask.

Hood walks over and joins you on the couch, making the cushion dip. You bump shoulders briefly, before you move.

"Look who's talking, Pulitzer prize," he says.

"That's a very reasonable goal, and I'm not obsessed with it. You're just a workaholic. I have activities outside of wo—oh my God, work!"

You shoot up from the couch, panicked. "Fuck. Fuck! I haven't shown up in two days! I'm—"

"Hey, easy," Hood says, propping his socked feet up on the coffee table. "I called you out. Said you had the flu. No biggie."

"How did you call me out?"

He shrugs. "Pretended to be your boyfriend. Girl on the line was kinda rude about it. Didn't believe me at first."

"Red, I believe we've talked about these invasions of privacy."

"I'm just fulfilling my host duties. Is it true you haven't taken a day off in two years?"

You sigh. "Yes, okay? Fine. I'm a workaholic, too. That's why Jane, the secretary you spoke to, was so sassy about my having a boyfriend. It's pretty unbelievable."

"That's ridiculous. You could totally get a boyfriend. Some guys don't mind that."

"Like you?"

Hood tilts his head in acknowledgment. "Sure. Like me."

"Yeah, well, you're not exactly most men."

"And thank God for that."

You look at each other for another moment. Hood's tattoo is in clear view now: it's a bird surrounded by flowers. You can't tell the species of either one.

"Cool tattoo," you say, your tongue feeling too big for your mouth.

Hood turns his arm so the ink is hidden. "Thanks."

"Right." You start to walk backwards. "I think... I'm gonna go to bed."

"Sure," he says. "If y'need anything, holler."

"'Kay. Thank you for dinner. You're a great cook."

"You flatterer."

You smile. "Gotta stay in the Red Hood's good graces."

You start to walk away.

"Do you—waffles?"

You stop and turn. "Sorry?"

"I, uh... do you like waffles? For breakfast," he says. He rubs his thumb and forefinger together. Nervous habit.

"I love waffles for breakfast."

Hood nods. "Great. Good. Then I'll... we'll have those."

"Please don't wake up early just to make breakfast, Red."

"You're my guest. I'll do whatever I want."

You don't recall the prospect of waffles ever making your heart hammer in your chest. Weird.

"Right. Well, goodnight," you say.

"G'night, smarty."

****

You turn the case details in your mind over and over. It's better than thinking about beef bolognese and peeks of skin you shouldn't see and how Hood's sheets smell like lavender.

But you fall asleep thinking about robins. You don't know why. You can't recall ever seeing a robin in Gotham.

You're on a rooftop. It's the roof you met Hood on, all those months ago. There's a robin nesting with its babies on the crumbling bricks.

The sky is a sick shade of green. You see horrible faces in the shadows on the roof.

That face from the night of the attack returns. He's hideous. You remember the stench of his breath, the way his eyes bulged. He grins at you across the roof.

"He should've killed me when he had the chance," he says, voice distorted.

You look around. The robin is gone. Blood drips from your stomach.

You turn and your attacker is there, inches away. He plunges the knife into you again and again. You can't move. This is it. You will die.

You wake up to wet cheeks. You're hot, and you're screaming. You've died.

A cool, rough hand grabs your arm and you fight because you can't die, you won't die. Not today.

"Hey. Hey, hey! It's me, 's J—Hood. It's Hood."

The room is almost entirely dark, save for a sliver of light from the cracked curtains. You can't make out his face. His voice is different. Clearer. He's without his helmet.

You reach out and feel soft hair. The curve of a neck. A bicep. A warm, bare chest.

"Sure, honey. Cop a feel if that makes you feel better," he murmurs.

Your face screws up and you start to cry.

"Shit," Hood whispers. "Shit, shit. Can't get the comforting thing right, can I?"

The bed dips with his weight. Arms wrap around you. You launch yourself into those arms, that solid chest.

"He g-got me in the dream," you choke out. "He killed us, Red. I'm so scared."

"Nobody's getting me or you. I promise."

Hood's jaw is smooth. His hands are big on your back, rubbing circles. His bare knee bumps yours.

You clutch him tighter. He hums.

"'S okay," he says. "It's alright. I got ya. He can't hurt you. I'd tear apart anyone who tries."

He lets you cry for several minutes, petting you all the while. Hood's body is warm, almost unnaturally so, but his hands are cool. He engulfs you completely.

You wonder what color his hair is. His eyes. What shape his nose is. His... lips.

"God, I'm a terrible guest," you mumble after you've caught your breath. "Fuck. I'm so sorry to wake you."

He hums, the sound going through your chest. "Don't worry. I don't sleep much. And you're not the worst guest I've had. My brother stayed with me for a few days last month. That was hell."

"You have a brother?"

"Four, actually. And a sister."

"Wow. Do they know you're...?"

"Yeah. It was a whole thing. They're over it now."

"Cool family."

Hood grunts. "They're... something."

You smile and close your eyes. "You're not who I thought you were, Red."

"Yes, I know. Friendless and illiterate."

You pinch his side. He clucks his tongue in response.

"Cheeky," he says, the gravel in his voice shooting down your spine like lightning.

You pull back, suddenly aware of how long you've been touching him. Hood lets you have your space, scooting to the edge of the bed.

"You know what I mean," you say, glad it's dark and Hood can't see your wide eyes. "Not like that."

"I know. You thought I was a monster, ugly and alone, sleeping in a cave."

Blindly, you reach for his face, feel the shape of his jaw, his chin.

"Doesn't feel like an ugly face to me," you say quietly.

He exhales like you punched the air out of him.

"Trust me," he says. "The dark hides a lot."

You frown and pull away. "I didn't think any of those things, Red. I thought... I thought you were one-track minded. Now I realize that you're probably better adjusted than I am."

"Oh no, I got issues. Believe me. Definitely more than you. Not that it's a competition. 'Cept if it was, I'd win."

You smile. "Title is all yours, big guy. Gotta be a little crazy to do what we do."

"Sure. But you're the bravest soul I know. 'Cause you weren't forced into this. You hunted down the story yourself."

"Brave or stupid?" you ask.

"Brave. But it's a fine line."

Nope. It's definitely more stupid than not, clinging to the Red Hood in his own bed in the name of a case.

What are you doing?

"Ah, anyway." The bed shifts as Hood stands. You can just barely make out the shape of him. "You probably won't be going back to sleep any time soon, huh?"

You sigh. "No, probably not. Please feel free to take back your bed."

"Nice try. You, uh... like hot chocolate?"

"Oh. Yes, I do. But you don't have to do that."

"I've been awake," he says. "No trouble. C'mon."

Hood walks to the door and opens it. Light spills out and for a moment, you have a clear view of his back.

His hair is dark and wavy. His back is covered in silver scars and fresh bruises, broad and muscled. You can see the tendons shift as he walks out.

The Red Hood is a man. Made of flesh and blood. Carved, more like.

Your belly flutters. Fuck.

This is no longer just you working a case. And you're about as far from an informant as anyone can be.

#Jason todd x reader #Jason todd x you #Red Hood x reader #Red Hood fanfiction #red Hood x you #Jason todd fanfiction #Jason todd imagine #red Hood imagine #batman fanfiction #batman imagine #jason todd x yn #red Hood x yn #gender neutral reader #inbox #blurb

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withleeknow · 8 months ago

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how he would take care of you during shark week. ⤷ chan / minho / changbin / hyunjin / jisung / felix / seungmin / jeongin

pairing: seungmin x f!reader genre/warnings: established relationship, fluff; menstruation pain, he's a softie !!! (@seungminiuniverse kindly perish <3)

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

main masterlist / blurb masterlist / ko-fi

seungmin, who instantly regrets his teasing jab ten seconds after it leaves his mouth. "tired already?" he pretends to scoff when you tug on his sleeve and stop in your tracks just fifteen minutes into your mini hike, "you're such a princess."

he expects a witty comeback from you in return, but when nothing comes, he turns around, and the playful smile on his face drops instantly at the sight of your face, your jaw clenched tightly and about a dozen shades paler than you were mere minutes ago.

"hey, hey, what's wrong?" he's crowding you in a blink of an eye, one hand tilting your head up to look at him while the other settles on your waist. "you okay?"

"i..." the pain shoots through your stomach again, cementing a furrow between your brows and a frown on your lips. "can we sit down for a few minutes?"

on a nearby bench, your hand grips his tightly like a lifeline as your head rests upon his shoulder. it's a hot day outside, with the sun glaring down at you like a punishment, but for some reason you welcome the added warmth of his body next to yours, despite the thin layer of sweat that you can feel beading on your forehead and along the side of your neck.

you'd opted not to take your painkillers earlier, thinking they wouldn't be necessary since you didn't experience any discomfort. now here you are, looking absolutely miserable on a wooden bench under very limited shade, next to your boyfriend who glares at any passerby who looks at you weirdly.

seungmin, who starts carrying around things you may need ever since that little mishap. painkillers and extra pads are with him everywhere he goes, even though he doesn't tell you that. he just keeps them with him in case you need them.

seungmin, who eases up on the playful banter because he knows you don't have as much energy to deal with his obnoxious ass.

seungmin, who is never vocal about his fondness for you; words of affirmation isn't his love language after all. but every month without fail, he shows you his love through the little things he does. quietly sliding your favorite chocolate bar and a steaming mug of tea next to your laptop while you work. ordering your comfort food even though you said he didn't have to, that it's his turn to get whatever he wants to eat, but he just insists that he's got a sudden craving. gently rubbing your stomach even after you've dozed off so you could sleep better. in the morning, when he has to leave before you wake up, he puts a heating pad by your belly to replace his warmth.

seungmin, who's got his eyes on you at all times, on high alert for any sign of discomfort on your face, but still diverts his gaze just as quickly if you happen to catch him looking.

seungmin, who isn't overly physically affectionate either, but for some reason, during that one week every month, he amps it up for you. a brush of his hand on your back when he passes by your desk. a peck to your forehead or your hair when you're preparing to go to work or when you're getting ready for bed. squeezing his arms around you just a few degrees tighter when you give him a kiss in greeting after a tiresome day. it's subtle; he's still giving you space to go through your own motions, but he's letting you know that he's there if you need him.

#stray kids fic #stray kids imagines #stray kids x reader #skz fic #skz imagines #skz x reader #skz x you #seungmin fluff #seungmin scenarios #seungmin x reader #seungmin imagines #seungmin x you #stray kids #kim seungmin #seungmin #blurbs

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woso-dreamzzz · 9 months ago

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Proud IV

Hardersson x Teen!Reader

Summary: The night after the derby

The light from the tv was still on when you crept down the stairs.

You woke to the pain in your ankle and rolled around your bed in agony. You briefly considered just laying there, sucking it up and trying to go back to sleep but in the end, the pain was just too intense and you surrendered to getting painkillers.

As you hobbled down the stairs, you inwardly cursed yourself for not grabbing any before going to bed. Your Momma had insisted on you putting some on your bedside table but you had been adamant that you would be okay.

As usual, you wished you had listened to her as you hopped down the stairs as quietly as you could.

You ducked into the kitchen, immediately rummaging through the medicine cabinet for some painkillers. You grabbed them but squinted trying to look at the dosage.

You didn't want to turn on the light.

Momma was a light sleeper. Even light coming up the stairs from the kitchen could wake her and you knew if she woke up then she would fuss over you and you didn't want that.

You could see a sliver of light from the living room though and you suddenly remembered that Morsa had been exiled there for the night because of your injury.

You assumed she was still awake and wouldn't mind company so you hobbled towards her.

She was still awake, like you predicted, lying on her side on the sofa.

The light you had seen earlier was the light from her phone, pressed up close to her face as she browsed social media.

She looked up though when you came hobbling in. She sat up.

"Hey," Magda said," Are you okay? Is something wrong?"

You lifted the pack of painkillers up. "Needed to check the right dosage." You threw them at her.

"Two," She replied, catching it easily and checking the packaging," And then no more for four hours."

"How long until they kick in?" You dry swallowed them.

"Half an hour or so. Are you staying here until they work?"

You nodded, falling easily back onto the sofa next to her.

Magda adjusted, throwing the blanket she was using over you as well and forcing you to prop your foot up on the table with her pillow.

"Comfortable?" You asked wryly and she rolled her eyes.

"I think Pernille made us buy this sofa just so I don't get a goodnight sleep when she's annoyed at me."

You grinned, slowly forgetting about the pain in your foot. "Why tell you how pissed she is when she can just show you?"

"I hope you don't get her vindictive streak," Magda joked," Sometimes she's just plain mean."

"And yet you're still with her."

Magda shrugged. "Maybe I like her like that."

Your nose wrinkled up in disgust. "That's disgusting."

She winked at you. "You'll understand one day."

A pit formed in your stomach and words spilled from your mouth before you could stop yourself. "I don't think I actually will."

"What does that mean?"

Magda shrieked at Pernille's voice, nearly falling off the sofa as her head whipped around to see Pernille leaning against the doorframe. Thankfully though, Pernille didn't lay into her for keeping you up (though Magda knew that lecture was coming soon) because she was focussed on you, brows furrowed in confusion.

You shrugged as Pernille moved to sit opposite you in the armchair.

"I just...I don't really think I'll ever get it. Sex isn't..." You made a vague gesture with your hands that only served to confuse your mothers further.

Magda cleared her throat. "So," She said," Sex is when-"

"I know what sex is!" You cut her off quickly," I just...I don't like it."

"It's okay," Pernille said," You're still young. You don't need to rush into anything and-"

"No!" You felt the urge to tear your hair out. "You're not getting it. I..." You took a moment to collect your thoughts. "I don't want to have sex. Ever. It's not a thing for me."

There was silent for a moment before Magda spoke.

"Well," She said," At least we won't have to worry about you getting pregnant."

"Magda!"

Pernille looked scandalised at her words but a bubble of laughter erupted from your throat and you decided to get everything off your chest.

"And I'm not into dating either. I don't get romantic feelings for people." To soften the blow, you added. "Oh, and I'm planning on moving to Greece, changing my name and becoming a shepherd."

Silence again.

"Will you name a sheep after me?"

"Magda!" Pernille snapped again," No, you will not be getting a sheep named after you!"

You continued to laugh, feeling something settle in your chest at the way Morsa began to list all the benefits of having sheep-Magda in the house with her.

"I'm going to bed," You said.

You left without much fanfare after that, knowing that when you came down in the morning that your mums will be curled up on that sofa together, still fast asleep.

#woso x reader #hardersson x reader #pernille harder x reader #pernille harder #magdalena eriksson x reader #magdalena eriksson #woso community #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso

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leighsartworks216 · 2 months ago

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Oh, Hold Me Now

Zayne x AFAB!Reader

Guess whose period just started haha The things I would do to be in Zayne's arms rn istg

Title from "Hold Me Now" by the Thompson Twins

Warnings: menstruation, period fic, lots of domestic fluff, reader has a uterus but no other gender-defining things

Word Count: 1,726

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Love and Deepspace Masterlist

AO3

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With a whimper, you curl in on yourself. The pain in your abdomen rapidly ramps up. You clutch at your belly, willing it to stop, please god stop. It doesn’t listen until tears prick at the corner of your eyes. Then it slowly ebbs away, letting you breathe again.

You reach behind you, but all you find is a cold bed. You whine, annoyed with your emotions and just how upset you are that Zayne isn’t there. Even on his day off, he doesn’t sleep in.

You slowly slide out of bed. Your feet touch your warm slippers, a gift from your husband when you were dating and had just moved in together. They hug your feet in a familiar embrace, cushioning your weight as you force yourself to stand. You shuffle off to the bathroom.

It’s miserable and uncomfortable and you’re cursing your existence by the time you finish on the toilet. On top of that, you’re almost out of product, and what you have definitely isn’t going to last the day. You groan to yourself thinking about Zayne, on his nice day off, having to take care of you. He wouldn’t complain, but it gives you half a mind to change into real pants and go to the store yourself, just so he doesn’t have to deal with this. The other half is just oh so comfortable in your pajamas. You have enough stuff to last a couple hours, you’ll just go then.

After you scrub your hands within an inch of their life, you open the medicine cabinet and pull out some good ol’ painkillers. As desperate as you are to get rid of this pain, you’re not desperate enough to wash the pills down with water from the tap. Not yet, anyway.

Wanting nothing more than to be at the peak of coziness right now while your insides tear themselves apart, you throw on one of Zayne’s sweaters and leave the bedroom to face the cruel day ahead.

You see Zayne’s head peeking out over the top of the couch as he reads a medical book, as big as his head and as thick as your arm. You would chastise him for working, but he’d say he’s reading for his leisure. The threat of an oncoming cramp forces you to ignore him and turn to the kitchen.

“I already got you a glass of water,” he calls. He turns to look at you over the couch, expression softening with sympathy as you double over, hugging yourself as though you could compress all the pain into a tiny little ball. It grows in intensity for a moment, forcing a whimper from your throat, before finally receding. You take a deep breath and stand back up, continuing to hug yourself. “Come sit down, my love. I’ll make you some tea.”

How could you refuse? You shuffle over and settle down into the plush cushions. You almost whine when he gets up, but you bite it back. You do pout, though, which makes him smile despite your pain.

He rounds the couch and plants a kiss to the top of your head. “I’ll only be a minute. Take your medicine.”

The water is still nice and cold when you take a sip from it. So cold you can feel it running down your throat. The pills go down smoothly, and you’re more than grateful not to be choking on pain meds today of all days.

You close your eyes and lean back into the couch, abandoning your slippers on the floor in favor of tucking your feet underneath you. You can hear the kettle starting to bubble as he opens and closes cabinets, gathering what he needs to make you the perfect cup of liquid gold to ease your suffering. The thought brings a mix of guilt and affection; both upset that he is taking care of you on his day off, and glee that he’s, well, taking care of you on his day off. If this was the weekend, maybe you wouldn’t feel as guilty. As it is, he has work again tomorrow, and he had work yesterday, so it’s not so much a day off as it is taking a house call.

He returns with a matching pair of mugs, steam rising from the tops and the warm smell of tea and bitter coffee filling the air. He sets his drink of choice down on the coffee table, but you greedily cradle yours to your chest, letting the heat warm your face and the scent relax your body. He sits back down beside you, drawing you closer to him while being extra careful not to spill your tea. He doesn’t say anything about you wearing his sweater, but he does playfully tug on the hem, signaling that he’s noticed.

You smile for the first time today and tilt your head up to kiss him good morning. “Thank you,” you hum, kissing him again for good measure, before adding, “and I’m sorry.”

He shoots you a disapproving look, softened from his lack of glasses and the morning light coming in from the windows. “Don’t apologize. It’s completely out of your control.” He slips his hand under the sweater to massage gently right where you need it. You relax into it immediately, practically melting against him as he takes care of you. His massages are always the best, and they drastically lessen the cramps that torment you this morning. “Do you need anything else, my love?”

You make a disgruntled noise at the reminder. “I need more product.” You quickly cover his hand with one of yours, heated from holding your mug, to make sure he doesn’t pull away. “It can wait a bit longer, though.”

He chuckles softly, but he makes no attempts to move. His fingers press gently into you, seeking out where you need it the most. You hiss as another cramp assaults you. You instinctively draw your knees up, leaning more of your weight into him as you curl up. He slips beneath the final layers of clothes to lay his warm palm fully over your lower abdomen. The heat sinks in slowly, but it does help.

“Can we watch a movie?” you ask as the pain comes back down, voice slightly rough. “Unless you wanna keep working.”

“Reading a book isn’t working,” he retorts, fully catching onto your jab. You point it out nearly every time you go to the library and he checks out something from the medical section.

“It is when it’s almost a thousand pages of nothing but medications and surgical procedures.”

He leans forward to reach the remote and passes it on to you. While you turn the TV on, he also grabs his mug, before relaxing back into the couch. “What do you want to watch?” he asks instead of continuing to pointlessly defend himself.

You hum noncommittally as you scroll through the library of films and shows, ready to watch at the press of a button. There were a few medical dramas you liked watching with Zayne, if only to listen to him correct the show or insult how unprofessional the main cast is, but they don’t really strike your fancy right now. Something funny would be nice. Or something comforting.

It’s only a matter of time before you put on a familiar movie you’ve seen about a thousand times. Zayne makes no comment on this. Instead, he blows gently on the surface of his coffee and takes a tentative sip. His coffee contains enough sugar to mostly negate the bitter flavor of the drink, but it’s just perfect for him. You drop the remote to the side and take a sip of your drink as well, humming at the perfect flavors that ease down your throat. The morning sun warms you both.

“Get up for a moment.”

You hum sleepily, looking at him with tired confusion. “The movie isn’t over,” you mumble.

He gives you a reassuring smile as he rubs your back. “I know, my love. I’m not leaving yet.”

With a gentle nudge, you pull your feet from under you and stand on wobbly legs. You watch as he lays out along the couch, legs parted, and gestures for you to lay back down. He can almost see the spark of excitement in your eye as you situate yourself on top of him, your legs between his and your head tucked safely under his chin. He pulls the blanket from the back of the couch overtop of you, before wrapping you in his arms. One hand massages the tension from your lower back while the other pets your hair. It’s heaven, being in his arms like this. You melt fully into him, forgetting the movie in favor of hiding from the sun outside, burying your face in his chest and shoulder, and breathing him in deep. He smells warm and sweet, with the shock of his aftershave. He smells like home.

You scoot upward to hide your face in his neck. He welcomes you readily, pressing a kiss to your temple. “I’m sorry I’m ruining your day off,” you mumble.

He tilts his head toward yours slightly, hiding you further from the sun. “How did you ruin it?” he asks softly. “I get to watch one of your favorite movies with you while we cuddle. How is that ruining my day?”

“Cuz you have to take care of me…”

“I always take care of you.”

You huff. “You know that’s not what I mean.”

“I don’t think I do.” He rests his cheek against you. His lips brush your forehead as he speaks, like little kisses with each word. “Why do you think taking care of you would detract from my enjoyment of being around you?”

You remain quiet. The only reason he knows you haven’t fallen asleep yet is because of the hand you have on his chest that traces shapes over his shirt. He stops massaging your back to catch it, holding it firmer to himself.

“I can’t think of a better way to spend my day off.”

Your sigh fans across his skin, making the hairs on his arms raise. “I love you…”

He smiles. You feel it against your forehead as he kisses you again. “Get some rest. When you wake up, I’ll run to the store.”

---

Tag List:

@the-golden-jhope @deepzombieyouth @huen1ngk41 @armycaratlover @cheesemachine44 @nyx2021 @angel-jupiter

#fanfic #fanfiction #zayne #zayne x reader #love and deepspace zayne #lads zayne #lnds zayne #love and deepspace #love and deepspace x reader #lads #lads x reader #lnds #lnds x reader #afab reader #x afab reader #period fic

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magics-neptunes-things · 10 months ago

Text

Ready, Aim, Shoot (2)

Hi guys !

I hope you are fine. I’m still struggling with writer’s block but I tried some things to get over it, so here is my new creation.

It’s a mix from a request I had here, and for asks from the prompt that you can find here and here.

It’s the second part of Ready, Aim, Shoot but I tried to make it understandable even if you didn’t have read the first part.

So please enjoy ♥

TW : Mention of accident, coma, injuries, blood. But it will get better.

Prompt : 22 (I won't anyone lay an hand on you) & 28 (Why are you bleeding?)

PART 1 | PART 3

____________________________________________________________

You never felt as weird as Alexia takes you home from the airport. Barcelona doesn’t have change in any way, it’s still the same streets, the same traffic jam, the same scents, the same laughs and happiness of people. But you, you have changed. What you have to get through make you change. You’ve learned the death of three of your colleagues. They are dead and you are not. Some of them had kids, lovers and they are dead. Why you, aren’t you dead? Why did you survive the bomb, your injuries when others didn’t?

Alexia puts her hand delicately on your knee and you jump, returning to reality. She looks at you with concern and you try to give her a smile, but you fail.

“It’s going to be alright, mi Amor. You are not alone. I’m here so is your parents, your siblings and your friends.”

“I know” you confirm quietly. “I’m sorry”

“You don’t have to be for anything mi Amor.”

You put your hand on Alexia’s, stroking her fingers with your thumb while looking outside. The sun is shining and you’re pretty sure that all the beaches are crowded with people. You always loved going there but with Alexia’s popularity you have to find more quiet beaches. Which you don’t mind. As long as you’re with her, it’s all that it matters.

At home, you are greeted by your cat who comes to rub himself against your legs while meowing, until you lower yourself to carry him. The movement makes you wince in pain, which Alexia doesn’t miss. But you assure her it’s okay, squeezing Diabolo against you. He let you do it for some minutes, before leaving your arms to go back to sleep.

“Glad to see that some things will never change” you roll your eyes.

Alexia laughs slightly, coming back from the bathroom where she putted your suitcase that she didn’t let you carry. She takes your hand in hers, taking you gently against her.

“If you hug me, you’ll see that I will never let you go”

“Take that Diabolo.”

You smile, getting as close as your injuries let you do it. The painkiller seems to start to stop working and you surely have to take one soon. But first you need to take a good shower, you’re not allowed to take a bath because of your scars.

“I’m going to take a shower” you inform your girlfriend.

She nods, kisses your cheek and follows you to the bathroom. You started to get off of your clothes, before stopping. You usually don’t mind Alexia’s presence in the bathroom when you take your shower, it’s a moment where you talk a lot about things. Sometimes she showers with you, other times she does different facial or hair treatments or she just sit on the toilet lid.

But today, you have way more scares than before and you’re not sure that you want Alexia to see it. The blonde sees you looking at her through the mirror and bites her lip. She immediately understands your torment.

“I’ll leave if you want. But I want you to know that it won’t change the way I look at you or the way I love you. No matter how your body is, you’re still you. And I will always love you.”

You nod, but you’re still nervous. Like if she doesn’t want to scare you, Alexia come to you slowly, surrounding you with her arms.

“Let me help you?”

She’s looking at your eyes in the mirror and you nod one more time. You let her take off your shirt and pants. She had done that a thousand times, but always with teasing hands or eagerly. Today, however, her hands are sweet and caring, as if she wanted to heal you with them. She also removes the protection on your knee and shoulder, with a thousand precautions.

She frowns when she sees your injuries. Your nose doesn’t look broken anymore, but you still have bruises and cuts. You swallow but then you see that she’s looking at one of your scare on your stomach.

“Why are you bleeding?”

You follow her eyes and shrug lightly.

“This one seems to have difficulty to heal” you mumble.

“I’ll take you to the Barca’s medic tomorrow. But now, you have to take your shower and get some rest.”

********

Alexia takes you to her favorite medical team and they work their magic. You still have pain sometimes, especially on your shoulder, but you are getting better. You filed your resignation some days after your arrival at Barcelona and it’s not a surprise for anyone. Some media tried to talk to you about what happened, but you shut them down every time. It’s too soon.

You’re pretty great during the day, you keep yourself busy with things. Alexia is almost always there with you and when she isn’t, you have friends or family visiting. Alexia takes you to walk in early morning for Nala’s stroking, every day. She’s an angel of patience, always kind, caring and loving. You cook for her every night, following her diet with attention. This allows you to occupy your mind and hands.

Your girlfriend and family insist that you go to see a specialist, to talk about what you’ve been through. You hate this. It’s always hard for you to talk about all this. You beg almost every time Alexia to not make you go, but she’s determined, confident that it will help you get better quickly. The worst thing is that she’s right.

At nights, however, it’s more difficult. You have trouble to fall asleep even if you avoid naps during the day to help you falling asleep. But it doesn’t work well. You stay still in your bed for hours; you don’t want to wake Alexia up. She takes so good care of you, she deserves her beauty sleep.

And when you fall asleep, you have a lot of nightmares. It’s normal and a process to get better if you listen to your psychoanalyst. But it’s still terrifying. For you and your girlfriend.

Once again tonight, Alexia is awakened by your scream of terrors. You’re still asleep in your nightmare when she sits on the bed. You’re turning around, the sheet wrapped around you, fighting against your nightmare. It’s always difficult for her to wake you up, she scared that you hurt yourself when you’re jiggling like that, but she’s scared too that she might hurt you.

So, she takes your face between her hands, calling you several times before you finally open your eyes.

“Alexia” you call her, terrified.

“I’m here mi Amor. It’s ok. You’re ok.”

You sit down too, looking around you. You become aware of the bedroom you share with Alexia and her presence at your side. She’s stroking your arm lightly, looking at you patiently.

“Ale” you mumble this time.

“I’m here. You’re safe. I won't anyone lay a hand on you.”

She takes you on her arms, making you sit on her lap. Letting yourself go against her. She strokes your back this time, rocking you softly. You let your breath slow down, very aware of your quick heartbeat.

“I’m sorry”

Alexia takes the time to kiss your jaw, your cheek several times and your forehead before answering.

“You don’t have to be.”

“Yes, I do, Ale. I’m a mess. I can’t sleep and I can’t do a lot of things alone because of my injuries. I keep waking you up almost every night because I can’t get better. I should have listened to you and stay at Barcelona. I’m so so…”

But Alexia doesn’t let you finish, putting a finger on your lips to stop your rambling. Tears are in your eyes again but for now you managed to keep them inside your eyes.

“You’re getting better, Y/N. You don’t zone out like you did when you came back. You smile more, your injuries are getting better, and I see you smile way more than before. No one expects to you to heal in two days, especially not me. You took so good care of me when I was injured, now it’s my turn.”

She puts a hand on your cheek, making you look at her. Her hazel eyes are looking at you with so much care and love that it took your breath away.

“What if the nightmares never end Ale?”

“We will find a way to heal you, mi Amor. I swear.”

You believe her. She seems so sure of herself that you believe her. She kisses your cheek again and when you turn your face, she kisses the corner of your mouth first and then your lips. One time, two time and the third you press your lips a little longer against her.

********

Alexia was right. You get better, even if it takes time. You still have nightmare sometimes, but you manage to not wake Alexia up every time. She’s not happy when you don’t though, wanting to be there for you as much as she can.

When your shoulder is better, she lets you come back to look at her games, as long as you are with her sister or her mother. She’s way too scared that someone push you and hurt you again to let you go there by yourself. You feel bad for Alba or Eli, given the imperious tone with which Alexia orders them to watch over you. But the two women don’t seem to mind, looking at you like you are the most precious thing in the world. When you joke about it with Eli one time, she answers you that you are the most precious thing in Alexia’s word. You didn’t know what answer to that.

Alexia always takes a thousand precautions with you, whether you are at home or outside. She doesn’t hesitate to scold someone who approaches you too much or to carry you from one room to another to avoid working your knee after your physiotherapy sessions. Which she wants to take you every time, by the way.

And the best thing about all of this, she does all of this without being intrusive. On the contrary. Her presence reassures you and is a strength for you. Your recovery without her would have been very much longer.

Tonight, she’s not taking you at home immediately after the game like she did the other times. Instead, she takes you with her in the lobby where the families are going after the games. There you met her friends, that you also appreciate very much too.

“Take it easy, Lucy, you’re going to hurt her.”

Alexia practically teleported to your side when she saw Lucy take you in her arms to greet you.

“I’m careful Capi, don’t worry.”

You smile at Lucy after she told you she was happy to see you again. You’re seeing many of Alexia’s teammates you haven’t seen since you returned to Barcelona. But your girlfriend never walks away from you, except to get you something to drink. And when you start to get tired, she sees it immediately.

“Do you want to go home?” she whispers in your ear.

You smile softly, letting yourself go against her. She passes delicately her arms around your waist and put her chin on your shoulder.

“You’re having fun, we can stay a little bit longer if you want.”

“How is your knee?”

“I’m fine, Cariño.”

She hums and keep you against her for a few more moments, kissing softly your cheek.

“Five more minutes and we go.”

“Alright Capitana” you smirk.

She snorts, pinching your rib lightly, surely not to hurt you. You can’t wait for your bruises to completely disappear, so that Alexia can start touching you again like she used to. Her love language being touching, you sometimes feel like she has to restrained herself.

That’s what you’re thinking about in her car when she takes you home. You’re thinking about it when you prepare yourself to go to bed too and when you’re in her arms in your bed you start to overthink it maybe a little too much. What if she never touches you like before, because all she’s going to see from you is this wounded woman? What if she finds someone else wit who she wants to share this kind of moment with? Alexia saw that you were a little lost in your thoughts when you came home, but she didn’t push you to talk about it.

You just have to look up to know what she’s peacefully asleep. Her face is completely relaxed, and her chest rises peacefully to the rhythm of her breathing. Yours is quite complicated, so you choose to escape her arms to take refuge in your balcony, hopping the fresh air will help you.

Sitting in a chair, you put your head in your hands, trying to collect your thoughts. Alexia promised to never let you down, but how can she be certain that her feelings will never change?

You don’t know how many times you are staying here, but Alexia’s voice almost makes you fall from your seat. You’re so surprised that you don’t understand what she says to you. You just blink at her as she’s looking at you with a worried look.

“You will freeze to death, come inside please.”

You take the hand she hands you to help you get up. And she wraps you in her arms in a protective way as soon as she closes the door. The warm of her skin makes you realize that you are, in fact, very cold.

“Were you trying to get pneumonia or something?” she asks, frowning.

“I couldn’t sleep” you mumble.

She sighs and she doesn’t have to say what she’s thinking. You already know that she’s not happy that you didn’t wake her. She doesn’t bother to tell it to you anyway.

“Do you need a hot shower, or can we go to bed?”

“We can go to bed” you sigh.

She seems upset and you hesitate to lye against her, but she takes you back in her arms.

“Did you have a nightmare?” she asks, some minutes after.

“No” you simply answer.

“Why couldn't you sleep so?”

“I don’t know.”

Alexia knows that you’re lying, and she hates it. But she doesn’t say anything, knowing that you will talk about it when you are ready. Some minutes passes before you talk again.

“I’m just scared” you whisper in the darkness of your room.

“About what?”

Her voice learns you that she’s not sleepy at all. Maybe she decided to stay awake as long as you’re not sleeping. She raises herself a little bit, to have a better look at you.

“Losing you”

Your voice is a whisper, but Alexia reacts like if you were screaming, almost jumping from her place in the bed.

“Why would you lose me?”

You shrug, but Alexia doesn’t have it. She looks at you, waiting for you to give her a proper answer. You take your time to choose your words, scared of starting a fight. You try to escape the real discussion once again.

“I don’t know, it’s just my insecurities I guess.”

“Talk to me, mi Amor. Please”

You look at her and sit down, feeling like you have to look properly at her for this kind of things. Alexia sits too, her beautiful eyes looking deeply at you.

“I’m scared to never be enough for you again. I’m not saying that I was at one time, but right now… What if you never se me again like someone… I don’t know how to say it without being cringe.”

You roll your eyes, tired of yourself. Alexia shows you once again how much she can be patient though, taking your hand in hers to interlink your fingers together.

“I don’t want to be your poor injured girlfriend for the end of our life. I want you to see me as someone who can take one of our long walk again, someone who you can do everything you want with. Someone you can touch the way you like without being scared of hurting.”

Alexia is looking at you closely, listening every one of you word with deep care.

“When I hurt my knee, were you seeing me like someone reduced?”

“Of course not” you frown.

“Well it’s just the same thing for me. I don’t see you as my injured girlfriend, I see you as the love of my life that I almost lost some weeks before.”

“But my body isn’t the same anymore, Ale”

“Your scars will only remind me everyday how lucky I am to have you and how much I love you. And I will kiss them everyday to remind me of that.”

Raising slowly her hand on your cheek, she starts to stroke it softly, but her eyes are full of love when she looks at you. Deep, sincere love. Then she kisses you before taking you slowly in her arms again, making you lye on her.

“You can sleep tight mi Amor. I’ll always be here.”

#woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso x reader #alexia putellas #alexia putellas imagine #alexia putellas x reader

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an-ambivalent · 2 years ago

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Yandere! Miguel x Fem! Reader

Warnings: As this is yandere fiction, this deals with behaviours that can be uncomfortable to read. Read at your own risk. This work is purely fictional, I do not condone this behaviour irl. THIS WORK HAS SPECIFIC WARNINGS OF: noncon and menstruation oral sex. IF AFTER READING THIS DISCLAIMER, YOU CHOOSE TO CLICK the ‘read more/keep reading’ you are consenting to read this at your discretion.

I hate myself for writing this so whatever.

Yandere! Miguel, who's spider instincts activate when you're menstruating and he loves to eat you out.

He starts of so gentle - he tenderly massages your thighs, and puts them over his shoulder. Then, he leaves a trial of soft kisses, and gentle nips on your inner thighs before inevitably, he's right in front of your heat. It feels vile because your aversed by the smell yourself, and just want to rest. Its painful, and you're cramping. The painkillers are making your head fuzzy and you're drowsy - you just want to sleep. But Miguel won't let you. Not when its his time to feast.

Sure, there is a smell, but his spider finds it delightful. You might be against it, but his spider loves it. Yearns for it every month, and needs his share of it.

He licks the single trail of blood dripping down your thigh, before following it to your outter lips. There's no time to focus on how only his warm breath is enough to cause goosebumps to arise at the back of your neck because the sensory receptors being kissed on your outter lips shoots chills through your nerves, and up to your spine.

Your back arches, and a loud moan leaves your lips as Miguel swipes his tongue at that perfect spot just beneath the skin of your inner lips. The pain from cramps feels worse, but there's also a start of pleasure. Your breath hitches, and one of your hands combs through his hairlocks, before clutching them tightly, and the other clutching the sheets beneath you.

"M-Miguel, plea, please s-stop. Its going to be too, ah, too p-painful." You beg. Miguel simply ignores you and continues his passionate makeout session with your lower region. His licks go deeper, more frantic, more depraved. Like he was a starved beast who was finally given a meal. Then, as the pleasure pressure built up, it collapsed. You exhale a drowsy sigh in bliss, actually feeling better temporarily. But that bliss subsides into anxiety, because you know from precious experiences that this isn't where it ends. It always ends in pain.

Miguel shamelessly laps at your mixed release of cum and blood. Now that you had released once, and were more relaxed physically, it was easier to go deeper.

With as much strength as you could muster in your weak and exhausted state, you pulled on his hair with all of your strength and shook your head.

"Miguel, please. Please, I'm begging you, let's stop here. I feel better now, anything more will hurt. Please, let's stop here for today, you know my first days are the worst. We'll do whatever you want tomorrow, I promise. I can take it better tomorrow. Please, just ignore your spider today and think about me for once-"

"Mi amor I always think about you. But you know, this is the only thing I ask for. I know it hurts for you, but now is the best time for me. You can take it, you're a strong chica, I know you can. I promise I'll try to be as gentle as possible," He whispered softly, and kissed your right inner thigh reassuringly. Then, he nipped one of your outter lips playfully with his sharp teeth, you yelped at the sensation. You tried to pull away, but were unable to, because Miguel gripped your thighs firmly.

"Now, try not to move too much, and just relax. It'll be fun for both of us, I promise."

#yandere x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #yandere smut #spiderman x reader #yandere spiderman #miguel x reader #yandere miguel o'hara #ambivalent writes

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xxblairexxss · 1 year ago

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Revenge

Pairing : Charles Leclerc x reader

Theme : Angst

I needed something that would break my heart and shred it to pieces so I came up with this.

“Charles?”

“Yes, chérie.” He had fallen asleep face down on the couch as soon as he came home. The meeting with the team was supposed to take 2-3 hours but it ended up taking half a day so he had to rush home because he had another interview next morning. You felt so bad waking him up but your period had came early and you ran out of heating pad and tampons.

“Can you head to the store—“

“Can’t it wait?” You could clearly see he was annoyed and your words became a murmur. “I just came back not even for 30 minutes.”

“I know, but…”

“I’ll get whatever you need tomorrow, chérie. Let me sleep. Please.”

So you let him be.

﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎

You couldn’t sleep that night. Your period cramp was getting worse and you desperately needed a heating pad, a painkiller, and anything that would help to soothe the pain. Your head was throbbing, you felt nauseous, laying down felt wrong, standing up made it worse. You tried to wake up your boyfriend but again, before you could say anything, he had left the room and locked himself in the guest room so you won’t be able to disturb his sleep. And you decided to take matters into your own hands.

You changed into an oversized sweatshirts and short yoga pants then walked out of the apartment. You couldn’t drive and it was better to have to walk for 25 minutes than to crash into someone else’s car.

You had always loved an evening stroll around the city but you would always feel anxious if your boyfriend wasn’t with you. Which was why you couldn’t go by yourself in the first place.

The walk was a pleasant one. Much to your surprise. You saw a group of people who had just finished their night shifts, a number of tourists taking pictures, and just full of humans being humans. You had reached the store in no time and got yourself some pain-relievers and a new heating pad.

“Thank you! You are Charles Leclerc’s girlfriend, aren’t you?” The old man asked as he put the items into a plastic bag.

“Ah, yes.” You were surprised as you didn’t really get this kind of question a lot.

“I knew it. I have seen you guys together a few times. Such a beautiful couple.” He handed you the plastic bag.

“Ah, thank you. I’ll get going first. Have a pleasant night, sir.” You took the items from his hand and started making your way back, trailing the steps you took all the way home.

﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎

“Move away!”

Things would have ended in a perfect way if it wasn’t for a random man who came from the upper side of the road. He didn’t get to hit on the break before crashing on you. You saw him coming your way but before you could moved away, he and his bike had already fallen on top of you. The pedal from the bicycle was still gliding as it crashed on you, causing the sharp bit to cut the skin on your knee. The hit sent you to fall on your back and you were trying to stop the fall but the crash was too hard that you could feel a huge pressure on your wrist as it landed on the pavement. The bicycle handle then hit on your forehead as it fell so now you had a bruise on your forehead and a cut on the side of your lips from the sudden punch from the man as he tried to stop himself from falling on his face.

“I’m so so sorry. I’m really sorry, miss.” The guy started scrambling to stand up and offered a hand to pull you up to a stance.

“Ow..” You immediately retracted your right hand when you felt the jolt of pain as he pulled on it.

“Oh, no I think you might have sprained your wrist. Give me your other hand. I’m so sorry my brake wasn’t working I really thought I could turn away before crashing on you.” He pulled you on your left hand which made you stand on both of your feet now. “You are bleeding. There’s a clinic nearby, I’ll take you there.”

﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎

Charles were woken up when his throat was dry and he was parched. It was when he turned his body to the side was when he recalled that he had left you because you woke him up a while ago. Guilt started to fill up his heart as he stood up and left the guest room. He was expecting to see you on the bed but he was greeted with an empty one.

“Shit…” He whispered and ran to get his phone to call you. Much to his dismay, the call went straight to your voicemail. “Fuck! Where are you, Y/N.”

﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎

“Oh, my. What happened to you, pretty girl.” The old man from the store earlier was surprised when you walked back into the store now looking like you were beaten up for the past 20 minutes.

“I’m so sorry for bugging you, sir. Can I borrow your phone? I need to call my boyfriend.” You had walked back into the store with the man who crashed into you, Lucas was the name as he went to buy a drinking water for you and waited outside as you made your call.

“Hello?” You heard your boyfriend’s voice through the phone. It was a relief he would picked up a call from a random number.

“Charles..” You tried to speak without crying but failed as your eyes started tearing up even before you could explain to him.

“Y/N? Where are you?” You could hear him getting restless.

“I am at the store down the street. Can you come and get me?”

“Stay. I’ll be there in 5.”

﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎

Charles was staggered when he saw you full of cuts and bruises. Your sweatshirts had some bloodstain on it and you were still sobbing.

When he took you home, he didn’t say anything but you knew he was mad because he kept on biting the inside of his cheeks and he only did that when he was furious.

“What was that for, Y/N?” He slammed the door as you walked in.

“I was just trying to…” You sniffed softly and wiped your wet cheeks with your sleeves, unable to look at him in the eyes.

“You were trying to what? Playing games with me? Or is this some kind of revenge because I didn’t want to go to the store to get your what? Chocolate? You couldn’t even fucking wait until tomorrow?” You took a step back when he kept on raising his voice, your hand that was holding the plastic bag was shaking within every sob.

“I’m sorry…” You sniffled again, eyes still looking on the floor.

“Or was it your plan though? To embarrass me like that in front of everyone? To show everyone how bad of a boyfriend I am?” He stepped closer and for the first time, you were scared of him.

“What happened to your phone?”

“It ran out of battery..” You mumbled.

“Great. Now you are telling me it was a coincidence? That you just fucking left the house with a dead phone? It wasn’t because you tried to make it harder for me to find you? He threw his car key away to which you flinched.

“I can’t believe you would go that far just because you couldn’t get what you want. You are fucking spoil.” Charles was dazed by his own words. He didn’t know what had gotten into him but he was so tired and he expected you to understand him instead of pulling a show at 3AM. But he didn’t thought he would blow up to this extend. He regretted saying every words he had thrown to you but when he thought back about those looks he got from the strangers when he went to pick you up, he was demented with anger again thinking that you were secretly smiling at how successful your plan were to get back at him.

You looked up to him in shock at his words, your tears are now flowing non stop you didn’t even bother to wipe them off. “I…” Charles cut you off before you could say anything.

“Just go and change your clothes, Y/N. We are done here. Go!” He yelled out and you scurried to the bathroom to wash your face, leaving the plastic bag on the dining table.

When you stepped out of the bathroom, you saw Charles on the bed. He had his arm covering his eyes. He wasn’t asleep yet because you could still see how tense he was so you tried to take your change of clothes in silent before quickly head out of the room.

Charles thought you would have climbed on the side of the bed to sleep. But he didn’t think you would leave the room. First thing that came to his mind was the guest room. He thought you were so upset with him that you chose to sleep in the guest room. He couldn‘t understand why you were upset now. Obviously he was the one who should be mad. He wasn’t the one who went to that extend to play revenge. You started it first.

But he didn’t hear the door close. You could never sleep with the door open. Charles only heard the soft sound of a coffee mug hitting the other glasses. It was so soft and slow, as if you were trying to hide the sound from him.

﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎

It was hard to do things with one hand. The doctor had to wrap your wrist with a bandage because the sprain was really bad. You couldn’t even use your right hand. Even taking yourself a glass of water was a difficult task but you needed to take the pain-reliever pill or you won’t be able to sleep. Your head was still hurting. Every part of your body was in pain but it wasn‘t as much as the pain of your heart. You were still crying, sobbing, but you tried to hide every sniffle in case Charles would yell at you again.

﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎

Charles saw the way you were struggling to take out the pill, some sort of medicine with one hand and he could feel his heart clenching in pain. Why would you go this far just because he couldn’t go to the store. Why would you even hurt yourself just to make him feel bad. He was upset that you could do this to yourself just to wreak vengeance on him. He watched you struggled to drink from the mug and still chose to wash it off as you cleaned the table and even put his car key away, the key that he thrown away in anger earlier. He saw you struggled to walk, trying not to put much weight on the leg with the cut and hurried back to the room before you could see him.

﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎

Charles walked back out when he heard you finally closed the door to the guest room and went back to the kitchen to check on the medicine that he saw you took earlier. Soon as he saw what was inside the plastic bag, he felt like there was a tons of rock being thrown on him at one time. It was a pain-reliever for a period cramp and an opened box of a heating pad. You didn’t go to the store just to play revenge on him, it wasn’t for a game. You went to get these things. He knew you always had a bad cramp and a migraine on your period but it wasn’t supposed to come until another 2 weeks. He had it saved in his calendar every month. You had asked him to go to the store earlier to get you these things because you couldn’t sleep, and it wasn’t for chocolate. He couldn’t believe what just happened. He had just yelled at his girlfriend who was in pain. He didn’t give you any space to explain anything. Now he knew why you weren’t saying anything else and just accepted everything that he said. You just wanted him to stop yelling so you could sleep the pain away. He would prefer you to shout at him back, curse at him, hit him, punch him, whatever it was. Perhaps that way it wouldn’t hurt him this much when he knew the truth.

He was a fucking asshole.

He had messed things up very bad and there was no way he could fix this up but he needed to. He couldn’t lose you.

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #f1 imagines #charles leclerc #charles leclerc imagines #f1 imagine

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poppadom0912 · 7 months ago

Text

Is it too late?

Warnings: Mentions of periods, hospitals, surgery, pain and illness

Summary: When your older brother is a fancy surgeon, being sick is the last thing you want.

Requested by @1chicago5021

A/N: I'm still alive people. I had a sudden burst of inspiration and thought I'd finally get all these requests done before the next round of exams. I am in a lesson right now so I can’t do the usual aesthetic collage I always do. This was sent quite a while ago but I actually had so much fun writing this so thank you! I hope this lives up to your standards <3

*****

Two weeks ago now, your body randomly started not working the way you wanted it to, but you put all the blame on your period whose cramps hadn't been very forthcoming.

The painkillers were a coming in at a constant stream, hot water bottles never having the chance to go room temperature.

Your never-ending migraines and 24/7 cramps were a constant, so you expected to feel relief once you were back to normal. But that never came because this week started and somehow, you felt even worse.

When you woke up this morning to your throat feeling weird, you knew something was wrong when you drank water and the feeling didn’t go away.

Despite that, you went to school anyways, bidding your brother goodbye when he dropped you off, completely unaware of your wellbeing. But you couldn’t blame the guy, he was stressed enough over work as it is, you didn’t need to add to his already overflowing workload.

You only felt worse as the day progressed. It was only spring, nearing summer, but your body temperature wouldn’t stop fluctuating. One minute you were shivering and asking to borrow your friend's hoodie but the next you were sweating like you had just finished a marathon and was trying to get rid of as many layers as possible.

The cramps were immense. The worst you ever had and to consider you just got off your period, you weren’t a stranger to post period cramps, but this was on another level. You hadn’t been in this much pain ever even while on your reds. None of the pain killers your friends kindly provided for you alleviated the pain. Death would feel ever so sweet right about now.

You knew you were seriously sick when you were on the verge of collapsing at lunch. Your friends all shouted in alarm when you faltered on your feet in the cafeteria. You ignored their efforts and attempts to get you to the nurse's office. There wasn’t long left of the school day, there wasn’t any point in leaving with barely two hours left.

As soon as you got home, you fell face first into bed. As soon as your head hit the pillow and you pulled the covers over your body with however much strength remained in your arms that got heavier as the day went on.

You were in a deep sleep, so deep in fact that your dreams were non-existent. You weren’t too sure what time it was, but you felt someone shaking you, going from gentle to a hand tightly holding your shoulder, a muffled voice inaudible as you came in and out of your slumber.

Their gestures were painful, but you didn’t have it in you to tell the intruder as you struggled to even muster a groan. Your eyes fluttered, face digging even deeper into the pillow as if to suffocate yourself. That was all the indication the person needed to shake you harder, adamant to wake you up.

With a blocked nose, breathing out through your mouth proved itself to be a much more difficult task than it should’ve been. And stuffing your face into your pillow might not have been the best idea taking that into consideration.

Their voice sounded way too far away, as though they weren’t in the room with you. One second they were roughly holding you, the next, all pressure ceased but the pain didn’t.

Before you could even register what they were doing now, your eyes heavy with sleep dropped once more as you were enveloped into darkness again.

*****

Over the past two weeks, Connor had noticed your depleting energy but when the mood swings came along with your hot water bottles, he didn’t think any much more of the matter.

But then you showed no signs of improvements and at first, he could hardly notice. You hid it quite well at first but as the week progressed, it was apparent to him you were getting sick, and you were too stubborn to admit that to your surgeon brother.

Nonetheless, things didn’t look too bad that staying home was necessary. You were managing quite well, going to school the entire week without complaints, so he found no reason to intervene into something he knew would end up in an argument that would result in you holding a grudge and not talking to him for a few days.

He dropped you off and drove to work expecting nothing. You smiled at him when you left the car, and nothing seemed physically wrong when you picked up the pace to meet your friends.

His twelve-hour shift seemed to never end. When he had a moment to himself, he messaged you as he waited for his coffee, staring at his message that sat alone with no replies for hours. School has finished, you were sure to be home now, so why weren’t you answering?

He didn’t think much of it till he was meant to go home at twelve. He was all ready standing at his locker but then Maggie called his name and he saw several ambulances piling up outside.

As amazing as he was, his attention couldn’t be in two places at once and unfortunately for you, car crashes had more significance in this situation. But as soon as this was all over, you’d be his number one priority once more.

It was all over six hours later when he came out of the second surgery he had to take lead in.

Stepping out of the surgery theatre, he thanked all his co-workers and was dashing away to collect his things, not wanting to be here any longer. Having time to finally check his phone again, his concern skyrocketed when you still hadn’t replied to his messages.

Waving off the few staff remaining in the emergency department, Connor wasted no time in driving off. His adrenaline had yet to die down from the rush of a packed-out emergency room and doing several successful surgeries. Adding to this was his building concern for you. Maybe you were just sleeping, and your phone was on charge. Maybe it was on silent, and you didn’t hear anything. Maybe it was stolen, and you couldn’t contact him-

Connor sighed as he parked the car. Wasting no time, his body still thrumming from the surgery high, he walked into the building and took the stairs instead, taking large strides as he skipped every two.

The house was drop dead silent when he opened the door which you hadn’t locked from the inside like you usually would. That and the completely pitch-black apartment was the first things that put him on edge.

He locked the door behind him, walking in further and inspecting the living room and kitchen that didn’t look lived in. Everything was in its same place as he left it in this morning. Closing the blinds in the living room, he walked towards your bedroom, your door slightly ajar which had never been the case since you started living with him. You always shouted at him whenever he left the door even a slither open, you always needed complete darkness to sleep. The tiniest bit of light always hindering your sleeping ability.

Pushing the door open, Connor poked his head inside first to survey the room. He finally let himself relax at the sight of you lying in bed, your figure completely drowning in your duvet. The weird lump in your sheets being the only reason he could identify you.

He felt himself relax, his body physically deflating now that he had eyes on you, knowing for sure that nothing was wrong.

For some reason, your curtains were still open which they never were since you were young, always complaining, once again, that you needed complete darkness to be able to sleep. Closing your curtains, he found your phone on your bedside desk, and it was littered with notifications from not only him but all of your friends too. All of them were asking in variations if you were okay, if you felt better, did you get home safe and how you were feeling.

They were all sent at three in the afternoon. It was now two in the morning.

Concerned at the topic of the messages, Connor came over to the side of the bed you were laying on and placed his hand on your forehead, his eyes widening immediately. He felt himself warming up just from how hot you were.

Sitting down on the space by your knees, Connor shook you gently, trying to rouse you from your apparent very deep sleep but the only movement you made was from what he was doing.

“Y/N? Hey, wake up. Can you get up for me really quick?”

The adrenaline that was just dying down was picking up again along with his heart rate, why weren’t you waking up?

He shook you once again but this time, he was more rough, his worry meaning he gripped your shoulder tightly and shook you with a force that he’d never use on you before as his baby sister.

This time he tried calling you name while he tried getting you up. Lifting the duvet off your body, not only were you shivering but you were sweating a very unusual amount.

Swallowing harshly, Connor tried one more time, calling your name and roughly shaking you. “Come one, I need to you wake up Y/N.”

“Y/N. Y/N get up.”

But you just wouldn’t budge.

Deciding that enough was enough, he scooped you into his arms and it must’ve been the sudden movement that caused you to let out a small whimper in what was clearly pain. It was small but it was the most he’d gotten from you since he got home and that was better than nothing.

Foregoing his jacket, Connor made sure to slip your cardigan over your torso, so you weren’t going to die from the cold outside. He quickly slipped into his own shoes and left the building not a moment later.

*****

No one had been expecting Connor to be back at work so soon, not even him. It was a few minutes to three and the ED was relatively calm taking into account the big accident not too long ago, but Connor was grateful.

Getting out the car, Connor looked into the ED and called for the first person he saw.

“April! Get me a gurney!”

Said nurse was caught completely off guard, jumping from where she stood at the nurse's desk with Will not too standing behind her. He too clearly was confused but Connor had no time to dwell on them.

Not checking if she was listening, Connor rounded the car and picked you back into his arms, your head resting on his bicep and your legs on the inside of his elbow. Slamming the door shut, Connor strode into the emergency department and luckily for him, April and Will were more than ready to help.

“All the gurneys are used up from before, but we’ve got a free bed.” April said, leading the surgeon into an empty treatment room where Will was lowering the bedside rails.

“Talk to me Connor.” Will said, understanding there was no time for formalities when he saw it was you Connor was carrying.

“No clue what happened but she’s as hot as anything, she’s shivering and sweating at the same time and will not wake up for anything.” Connor started, gently laying you down and standing back to let Will and April do their jobs. He was itching to help but physically had to move further away from you so that he wouldn’t do anything stupid.

“Pretty sure she’s been sick and in pain for a while now, but she never said anything.” He continued, looking at all the numbers on the machines that were popping up as they were connected to your body. “When I asked last week, she just kept saying it was her period cramps.”

As April hooked you up onto an IV drip, Will started palpating your body in search for any particular place of pain. And when he came to a particular area in your lower abdomen and you cried out, the three of them looked at each other knowingly.

“Kieran should still be on shift.” Connor said, remembering the surgeon he left behind that was in charge and available.

Will nodded in confirmation, “Let’s move.”

*****

Waking up felt different to all the times before. Your levels of disorientation and haziness and confusion were on another level.

As soon as you opened your eyes, the first thing you noticed was the lack of pain. You couldn’t feel not even a pinch in your stomach, maybe it was weird to say but it felt liberating to not be in debilitating pain.

“Oh, thank goodness your awake.” Connor looked dead on his feet in the doorway of the room but the immense relief painting his face was like no other.

You made him feel and look like that- Shit, what happened, what did you do?

Before you could say anything, Connor beat you to it. “How are you feeling? In any pain?”

As he questioned you, a poured you a cup of water, holding it so all you had to do was drink and not need to exert energy that he knew from experience, you didn’t have.

Once again, before you could ask, he answered for you. “It was appendicitis. Your period cramps were in fact your appendix and last night it burst.”

“But it’s all good. We got you into surgery and your appendix is gone as should your pain.”

“Wow.” You said shakily, your voice so quiet from the lack of use.

“Please don’t do that next time.” Connor said, sitting on the empty seat by the bed, taking your hand into his. “Please tell me when you're in pain and when you feel sick. You matter to me; all your small or big problems are mine too. I don’t care how trivial they are.”

Silence followed as he set the glass aside. “You scared the shit out of me kiddo.”

And to say you felt guilty was an understatement.

“Claire’s pissed.” You both winced at the thought of your sister finding out. “She’s going to visit when she’s finished with work. I told her your healthy and out of surgery but she’s still pissed.”

“M’Sorry.” You apologised, voice hoarse and lips chapped. “I didn’t want-“

“Y/N.” Connors face made it look like he was in pain from your admission he cut off. “You’re never a bother to me okay? Me being a doctor is a good thing, use it to your advantage.”

You nodded, confirming to change next time if there was another time. Fingers crossed there isn’t.

“How hard was it to not do the surgery?” You smiled, squeezing his hand and poking his bicep. He was still in his scrubs from his shift last night.

Connor rolled his eyes and groaned. Such a sight made you laugh.

#one chicago x reader #one chicago imagine #one chicago fic #onechicago #chicago med #one chicago fanfiction #chicago med x reader #connor rhodes #connor rhodes oneshot #connor rhodes x reader #connor rhodes imagine #connor rhodes x sibling #sister reader

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blackbat05 · 2 years ago

Text

After Missions

Miguel O’Hara x Reader

Plot: Miguel rarely let’s anyone in after missions. But he does make exceptions.

Genre: PG-13

A/N: Movie was amazing! I would say more but I’ll stop myself. I see a lot of fics for Miguel but there’s few SFW ones, that needs to changed. Reblogs and comments are appreciated!

“You sure you don’t need to get yourself checked out?”

“I’m fine.”

“I can literally see a gash on your side, Miguel.” Jess deadpans.

“I’m fine.”

“Is that all you know how to say?”

“No-yes-argh! Just leave me alone please.” Miguel widens his stride, entering his private space. Well, almost private space.

“I can call her.” Lyla and her uncanny ability to pop up despite not being called for.

“You will do no such thing.” Miguel winces as he takes a seat. Peeling off his suit, he groans as the gash looks at him with a nasty red smile. This was going to take a while.

Lyla shrugs, “Suit yourself boss.” Her hologram switches off quicker than usual and Miguel knows that she’s up to something. Not that he had the energy to care.

Using his left leg, Miguel pulls out the first aid kit with difficulty. The gash was just all in a day’s work, but that didn’t mean he looked forward to stitching it up after every mission. You always did it much better.

“So, are you even going to sleep tonight?”

Miguel sees you standing at the entrance and curses internally.

“One of these days, I’m going to shut Lyla down.” He mutters, loud enough for you to hear.

“It was Peter actually. Thank god because he knew you would be to stubborn to call for help.” Despite your jab at Miguel, you didn’t seem to bothered at how grumpy he was.

Sitting across him, you take the needle from Miguel’s hands. “You didn’t think of taking some painkillers before I don’t know- you try and sow yourself up?”

“I don’t need it.” Miguel grunts as you prepare to clean the wound. He hisses loudly as the cotton touches the raw skin.

“Sure tough guy, keep telling yourself that.” You chuckle. “Here, take these.” You pass him a couple of painkillers before getting to work.

Silence takes over as you steadily work on his wounds. Pursing your lips in concentration, you finish the last bit, cutting off the excess string.

“Done!” You stand up slowly to stretch your body. You stand beside Miguel who is still sitting down, tossing on a grey sweater. You run your fingers through his curly hair, giving Miguel a head pat.

“What are you doing?” Miguel doesn’t seem annoyed. In fact, he seemed more confused at your actions.

“A head pat. I thought that would be obvious. For a job well done. Usually the people that I stitch up are way more fidgety.” You mused. “Besides, isn’t it nice?”

Miguel’s about to tell you that he isn’t a domesticated animal but your fingers somehow work magic on his scalp. He finds himself automatically leaning into your touch, letting out a soft purr.

“Not a word to anyone about this.”

“As long as you come straight to me after missions.”

“Deal.”

***

Afterword

“Did you guys see that! Miguel just smiled! Oh the world’s going to end soon.” Peter gasps dramatically as he paces up and down the room with a babbling Mayday.

“I knew our boss had some color to him! He’s not just multiverse business and all.” Pavitr grins. “Hobie come on, gimme my 10 bucks.”

“Damn it, I knew I shouldn’t have agreed to this. How was I supposed to know O’Hara had a soft side to him?” Hobie passes him a couple of bills.

“Alright guys, let’s get outta here before Miguel finds out.” Gwen ushers the group towards the exit before all four come to halt to see an unamused Miguel glaring at them.

“Oh shit.”

***

Feel free to explore my other Miguel works here!

#miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara x reader #spiderman: across the spiderverse #spiderman 2099

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suguwife · 5 months ago

Text

𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐈𝐧 𝐘𝐨𝐮. (twelve)

tags: Gojo Satoru x f!reader, kpop idol x influencer, fake dating, 18+ mdni, desperate gojo, addiction, overdose, mentions of past abusive/toxic relationship, some fluff, angst, teasing, profanity, arguing, written chapter, smau series

- 10.8k wc

𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 - Gojo Satoru, a top idol, finds himself at the centre of a public scandal after being photographed in a club appearing intoxicated. Rumors of substance abuse quickly circulate, causing fans and the public to question his reliability and professionalism. Due to severe backlash, his PR team proposes a fake relationship with Y/N, a social media influencer renowned for her healthy lifestyle, to salvage his tarnished image, reduce suspicions and trick the public. However, trouble intensifies when he’s unable to let go of his addiction. - 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍

(previous)

“Shall I come over?” Satoru's voice over the phone is casual, as if suggesting the most ordinary thing.

“And do what?”

“I don’t know. Anything. Maybe... give you a massage? It might help.”

He can’t possibly be serious, “Satoru, I was just joking before-”

“I’m not.” His tone is firm, leaving no room for doubt.

“But it’s so late?”

He huffs in frustration at your reluctance. “I don't care. I wasn't planning to sleep anyway. You're in pain. I can hear it. I'm coming over.”

“You don’t even know where I live.” You chuckle, rolling your eyes as you stretch your aching legs once more.

“Tell me.”

“You don’t need to-“

“Fine, I'll ask your manager.” He hangs up abruptly, leaving you staring at your phone in disbelief with furrowing brows. Does he really think he can just waltz up in here like it's no big deal?

But you'd be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t want a massage. His hands are huge, it would surely feel like heaven.

And you can’t lie to yourself and say that you don’t miss him. Because you kind of do.

But you know him, he’s always flirting. What if you really do end up falling for him from his stupid flirtiness?

You lay in bed, staring at the ceiling in exhaustion as you try to massage your own sore muscles. But it’s futile and useless, your hands are too small, too tired, and too weak to press down hard enough.

Maybe you wouldn't mind if he massaged you. A free massage from the famous Gojo Satoru? Yes, please.

After around 7 minutes you hear a ring on your door, he's so fast.

You trudge over to your apartment door, rubbing your eyes as you do so. Once you open the door you see the tall man before you, looking down at you sympathetically.

He has a small bag in his hand with the medical plus sign designed onto it, “I told you, you didn’t have to..”

He sighs before he speaks "Yeah, I know. But you're in pain, I'm not just gonna ignore that, am I?” He holds up the bag in his hand, “Plus I bought some extra painkillers. The pharmacist said it's a stronger one to help with bone pain so... worth trying."

God, how cute can he get?

He didn’t need to do that, you already have medication for your disease at home, you’ve taken everything and nothing's worked. “Which ones?”

He pulls out the package, checking the name of the medication "Uh... This one- Naproxen sodium. Have you tried this one before?"

“Uhm.. I don’t think I can use that..”

“Why not?”

“I don’t usually take it.. I'm allergic to the stuff inside it.”

“Okay, I'll be right back.”

“Wait no it’s fine-“ but he’s already left, his long strides quickly placing him into the elevator as soon as you step out to stop him, and the doors have shut.

What is wrong with this man? You run your hand over your face, leaving the door open for him. Then you make your way to your couch, staring at the door as you wait, cracking your toes to relieve the pain.

He really did just drive all the way here past midnight to give medication, just to leave again and get another one.

Thoughtful.

He comes back, panting a little for breath, his hair slightly dishevelled as if he ran up a thousand stairs, “Okay, I’m back..” he says as he takes off his shoes then walks inside, closing the door behind him, the lock automatically keeping you both together, inside.

He crouches down next to you so his face is in your view whilst you stay sat on your couch. He’s so damn beautiful it's hypnotising.

There's a soft, tired smile on your face now as you look at him whilst he speaks, “I got you tylenol, they said it’s safe and can ease muscle pain. Is that okay?”

You chuckle looking down at him, “Yes, that’s fine. But I told you, you didn’t have to. Seriously.”

He huffs slightly, getting frustrated again, “For the 100th time, I know that I didn't need to come here. But I wanted to. Why can't you just accept that I want to help?”

“You don't accept mine.”

He sighs as he goes silent, instead placing the bag on the coffee table and walking towards your open plan kitchen, filling up a glass of water for you. “I'm sorry, okay? I know I'm stubborn about accepting help. But why can't you accept it from me just once?”

Because you don’t need it. You can do everything on your own, you always have.

There’s a difference between you and Satoru.

You don’t need help and do most things independently, because there’s no health risks and you know how to deal with yourself.

Satoru doesn’t accept help at all because he’s scared of showing his weakness, and he’s unable to manage his health risks, unable to deal with his issues in a healthy manner.

“Just let me play the caregiver or something? You're always trying to take care of me, so let me try taking care of you for once.”

“I could literally just go to sleep, it's not that serious.” Because it’s not, your muscles don’t hurt that much. Just a little, enough pain that you can cope with because you have been for years.

“It is serious,” He says, walking back towards you with the glass of water, crouching in front of you again. “Just... just take the pills. Here.”

He hands you two pills and the glass of water, watching you carefully as you swallow them down.

Is he doing this out of guilt?

He takes the glass from you, placing it on the table for you, then helps you to stand up, his large single hand on the small of your back guiding you back to your bedroom in silence.

You can’t say you want him to stop and leave you alone, even if it’s out of guilt. It feels nice, being cared for by another man after so long.

Did Naoya ever care for you like this? You can’t even remember. All you remember is how he sounded when he yelled, and how it felt to have his rough hands knock against your fragile skin.

Gently, he sits you on the bed, his hand still on your back as he looks at you, but you don’t meet his gaze and look down instead, a little shyness growing within you at his stare.

“The pharmacist said the effects of the pills should kick in after a while. Do you still want that massage?”

Oh my god he’s serious. You were just joking… or were you? A massage doesn't sound too bad, especially when it’d be from him.

You can’t even make your own decisions when it comes to him, he's got that effect on you. This isn’t normal for you. You’re always able to decide on things, but when it comes to him.. fuck he’s messing your mind up!

“Uh.. well.”

“Is that a yes?” He says, his face leaning closer to the side of your cheek. His warmth brushing onto your skin and you shiver ever so slightly, hoping he didn’t notice.

“I don’t know.”

“Come on, I'm not just gonna sit here and watch you be uncomfortable. The pills may work or they may not, you'll be uncomfortable until then either way, so let me try something to maybe make that discomfort a bit less intense.”

Oh, so now he’s somehow educated on health?? But not with himself?

“Go on, lie on your back and I'll massage you.”

Okay.. you will.

You lay on your back, looking at him tiredly as he looks at you with nothing but a tender care in his eyes.

“Where does it hurt the most?”

“Down here..” you point at your legs and then your ankles. Your eyes notice his Adam's apple bob up and down, swallowing. You have to hold back your laugh because this whole situation is just so unrealistic, but he’s the one that suggested a massage. It's not your fault if he feels nervous.

He lifts your silk nightdress up slightly so it reveals your knees, fingers brushing over your skin like a feather making you tense up just, but not enough for him to notice.

“Right, so I'll start here then, yeah?” His hands are gently placed and wrapped around your left calf, “I'll be gentle.”

“I’ll be so gentle..” Get that reminder out of your head. You’re not in the car, he’s not hovering over you, you’re not going to fuck again.

You feel him knead into the tense muscles of your legs and you face slightly and exhaling heavily at the pain as he carefully continues working.

“Bear with the pain for a little more, ‘Kay?”His voice is so soft right now, so soothing and calm.. you want him to talk more, you want his breath against your skin as he speaks, want his hands to never leave your skin.

Oh god, stop it.

You don’t want that. Or do you? No idea. You’re still too scared to get into another real relationship after Naoya. You’re still scared of the issues behind Satoru’s addiction.

Not scared as in you’ll hate him and run away from fear, scared out of worry, scared that he’d slip away from this earth because of his addiction.

It just seems to be increasing the pain in your muscles.

Gojo Satoru POV

My eyes glance over to her toes curling up, cracking the pain away. They’re so beautiful. She’s so beautiful. Every inch of her.

I should write a song about her, one day. I will. I’ll do just that.

I keep up the massage, applying a gentle but firm pressure to work the sore muscles, moving down her legs to her ankles. Her damn skin.. it’s so.. so smooth. Oh and that dress. That simple silk nightdress she’s wearing is so damn beautiful on her. She’s going to drive me mad.

She already has, she’s driven me mad already and has no idea.

My eyes then glance over to her bare face, relaxing.. breathing heavily with slightly furrowed brows, her breath letting out small sighs of relief, hoping this is a good sign that I’m actually doing something positive. “Helping?” And she nods at me, relief washing over my body almost immediately.

“Let me try the other one now, alright?” I move my hands over to her right leg now, working from the ankle to the knee, “Tell me if it hurts too much though.”

“No.. feels good.” She says, eyes shut in bliss.

“Shall I do your thighs as well?” She nods again, eyes still shut.

I swallow down painfully, my mind momentarily distracted again. I have to silently curse myself because I can’t seem to stop my mind from being distracted by her, which I know is stupid when she’s in pain and I’m supposed to be here to help.

But it’s a little hard to focus when it comes to her.

Gently, I lift her nightdress more up, I don’t know why my breath hitches. We’ve had sex before, but the car was pretty dark, I couldn’t see her skin this clearly.

After my palms begin to massage into the flesh of her thighs, she begins to stretch out and groan, and fuck, my thoughts just become even more distracted. My body wants to do things it shouldn’t be doing when she’s in pain. I try to keep my focus and speak through clenched teeth, “Does it hurt when you stretch out?”

“Just hurts.. I don’t know.”

“Just lie still and let me try easing the pain out..”

I carefully start to massage her inner thigh, kneading the muscles to try and ease the pain, my fingers gliding over the smoothness of her skin, fighting the urge to let my thoughts drift off to something sinful, but they already are.

Stupid.

But she just looks so damn enticing like this, she feels so amazing under my skin.

I want to feel her like this forever.

As she continues to let out sighs, I move my hands towards her hips, using both hands to knead the muscles, trying my hardest to keep focus.

Honestly, I’m so stupid for suggesting this, I’m already sweating just a little from looking at her like this. All laid on the bed for me to touch her skin.

I just want to kiss every inch of her delicate skin, from her head to her toes. And I want to kiss her slowly, sensually, to savour the moment, to show my love.

My mind grows hazy as I massage the top of her hip and the sound of her breaths growing heavier, my mind becomes lost in the feeling of her skin under my fingers, the sight of her figure and my urges only grow stronger.

God she’s so perfect, is it insane for me to see a future with her already?

“Does it hurt everywhere?” I ask, and she nods again.

“Everywhere? Your whole body?” And she nods again as I continue to push and knead the bottom of my palm against her tense muscles.

I know I should be doing this to help ease her pain, but my mind can’t help but admire her like this. When I push down hard enough to make her legs twitch.

I can’t help my feelings. Can’t help this magnetic attraction towards her.

It’s cute how she scrunches her facial expressions and furrows her brows, but I hate that she’s in pain right in front of me yet these are the sinful thoughts my mind wants to run to.

I just want to touch her more, to massage her with my lips and kisses instead, to tell her how beautiful she is, to tell her how I feel every time I’m near her. To tell her how I feel when she’s not near me.

But I have to hold back these urges, knowing she’ll just shut me down because of that damn contract.

How is this all fake to her? How is this all normal? Is this even a fake relationship between us both?

How?

The way she groans out ever so slightly as my hands knead firmly down on her hip bone makes it harder for me to keep myself in check.

What are you doing to me sweetheart…?

My body wrestles with itself, her body twitching a little under my hands and the faint sounds of her pleasure as I knead against the tension in her bones are too distracting to focus on the real task at hand.

Sighing, I desperately grit my teeth for something to hold on to whilst my hands continue their ministrations.

“Fuck.. fuck it’s killing me.. I’m sorry, the massage isn’t helping anything..” She groans out, eyes squeezing shut and back open again as she sits up.

“It’s okay.. I’m just sorry that I haven’t been able to actually ease your pain. Does this usually happen?”

“Thanks it’s okay, and yeah it does.”

My poor, sweet girl. I’d do anything to take it away, anything she’d ask me to do. I’d do it.

Apart from fully getting off drugs, I’m not so sure about that.

“How does it feel?”

“Feels like.. like a big boulder being pushed down onto me.”

I watch as she cracks her toes, wrists and fingers again, noticing how she flexes and curls them in pain.

My eyes analyse every small, faint wrinkle in her knuckles, the gloss of her baby pink nail polish, the way her nails are curved rather than sharp or squared or broken. I stare in admiration for how well kept her hands are.

Beautiful.

Every inch of her.

Nothing could ever make me change my mind on that.

That day I had seen her at the celebration party for reaching 100 million views, she had already caught my eye.

The way her hair hung from her shoulders, the way her posture was always so upright and perfect, the way I could see her eyes glistening from a distance, the way the corner of her lips were always upturned, always smiling at anyone who’d talk to her.

I could see the shine of her skin back then from a distance, and I can still see it now, even when she’s in pain and not doing so well.

She always manages to keep herself looking her best, always so elegant in everything she does.

When we talked to each other whilst she congratulated us for our success, her voice was so smooth and soft, so sweet and gentle.

I just wanted to pull her into a private area and make love to her.

But I didn’t.

I should’ve made a move on her back then.

She didn’t come to our other celebration when we hit 1 billion views, I still don’t know why. Did they even invite her? Did she decline? Did she purposely not come?

But it’s okay, fate seemed to have brought us back together over my scandal and although we barely know each other it feels as though I’ve known her since I was a child.

It feels like I’ve always known her.

This magnetic pull towards her is too strong, too strong for only a week of being in this “fake” relationship.

“Does anything help with the pain?”

“.. I usually hug my teddy. It sounds childish, I know, but I threw it away so.”

Oh you sweet girl, it doesn’t sound childish at all to me, it’s cute. Just another thing to add to my list on why I like her.

“Why'd you throw it away?”

“My ex gave it to me.”

A hint of jealousy slithers into my mind almost immediately at another man, but he’s your ex, so it’s fine, right? I end up clenching my jaw anyway, “Well, you don’t want anything that reminds you of him.”

“Nope.” She says casually, popping the ‘P’ and I don’t miss the way she avoids eye contact with me at the mention.

She lays back down and I place the bottom of my palm on her lower abdomen this time, the only thing separating my hand from her skin being the thin material of her clothes. “Why’d you break up?” I question as I begin to knead into the area, causing a gasp to escape her pretty lips.

Oh. A sensitive area.

Oh fuck.

I continue to push down and knead into the area casually, repeating the question like normal but with a little bit of jealousy and curiosity, “Why’d you break up?”

She’s panting now, eyelids fluttering as she scrunches her face, “That.. that area’s sensitive.” She gasps out, squirming and twitching her legs.

“Sensitive?” Oh, I know that, but I can’t seem to stop, I just continue, pushing harder and eliciting a groan to come out those plush, tainted lips again.

Those lips I want to taste with a lick when she has a sweet drink. Those lips I so badly just want to bite, kiss and make sore. Those lips I want to feel nibble every freckle and line on my skin. Those lips I so badly want to wake up to every damn morning.

She moans.

She moans out a whine, squirming more as I push down even further beneath her stomach.

It felt like something had snapped inside me as I heard her, the sight of her body moving and twisting under my hands, the sound of her small moans and whimpers, all working together to drive me absolutely crazy.

Crazy.

Her moans are like music to my ears, almost intoxicating. Almost like a drug that I need for myself at all times.

I can’t help myself. Can't control myself.

What’s happened to me?

Now I place both hands on her beneath her stomach, moving the bottom of palms up and down into her tight muscles, too focused on enjoying seeing her body jump and twitch under my touch, the sound of her whimpers and whines getting more and more intense, almost forgetting that this massage was to ease her pain.

I lean my head down as I continue, my face inching closer to her ear, “Sensitive, u said?” I whisper, a subtle smirk playing on my lips.

I can’t hold back anymore, she makes it too damn hard for me to do so.

How could anyone possibly hold back from her beauty? From her sweet and kind heart?

“Satoru, you idiot!” She yells through a whine, face scrunched in pleasure and annoyance and it only fuels me further.

Oh, kind.

I know I’m acting stupid right now, but I’m enjoying myself way too much sweetheart.

I admire the way her body jumps and the muscles twitch as I push into her lower abdomen.

Shit.

I continue pushing and kneading my fingers down below her belly button, my other palm flat on the mattress beside her arm as I looms over, feeling a sense of satisfaction as she whines and squirm, “Like this?”

“You still didn’t tell me why you broke up with him.”

Oh, she doesn’t even respond to me! Too filled with the sensations I’m giving that she whines to, small whimpers escaping too.

I love the sounds she makes, “Answer me,” I say firmly, “You still haven’t told me why.”

I circle and press down the pads of my fingers in a quick pace on her lower abdomen, her moans getting louder and louder. “Tell me.”

“Y-you don’t need to know.” She finally speaks through a gasp but it only makes me clench my jaw, jealousy hissing through my veins. Is that love? It has to be.

It is. I know it.

I am in love with her.

I’ve never felt like this about anyone, it has to be love.

“I do. I want to know.”

Her hips and legs jerk, and I smirk.

I’m so lost sweetheart, my mind and body are at complete loss at this point, my thoughts going crazy each time her body arches and twists slightly under my touch, everytime she gasps or whimpers when I push my fingers down onto the area.

She’s so high off my massage that she can’t even get up.

God.. she always seems to tense up or shiver when I touch her. What does that mean?

What am I doing?

“Satoru- S-stop massaging that area you dick!” She moans out through a whine, panting heavily.

But I can’t help myself, I press my fingers down, knead and release again, continuing as I knead down and she’s still gasping and panting, “Does it not feel good?”

A thrill runs into me as she moans louder and I press harder against the sensitive spot, “You love it, don’t you?”

“That’s enough..”

“Really?” But I press down again, and she’s moaning again.

She lifts herself up on her elbows, panting breath, parted lips half lidded eyelids, furrowed brows.

Beautiful.

“Look, you're getting all worked up over a simple massage y/n.”

I knead deeper into her abdomen again, watching as her body lifts up slightly, the small groan escaping her lips.

“What if we had sex again?”

“What the hell!”

“I’m just kidding..” Too far?

“Are you still high on that.. that fucking heroin?”

“I did take a lot sweetheart, but I’m not high.” I don’t stop my massage, even if she’s lifted herself up.

“Fuck- stop it.”

“But I think I’m getting addicted to how you sound.” I say as she lays back down again, her body obviously too weak to hold itself up whilst I continue kneading deep into her sensitive area.

“I’m not.. a fucking drug.” She says through gasps. Oh but she is.

I chuckle as she speaks, all flushed from just my hands, “You sure about that? ‘Cause I’m feeling pretty goddamn high right now. You're acting and sounding like a drug right now.”

“What the fuck does that even mean?” She says, staring at me with confusion and annoyance across her face.

Oh god, I know I’m not making sense but I simply can’t get myself to care anymore, I’m too lost.

I smirk as I speak, staring into those beautiful eyes of hers, “It means that you’re just as mind-numbing and addictive as a drug.”

“You're speaking through lust ‘cause.. you’re high.”

I chuckle, shaking my head slightly, my heartbeat knocking against my chest. “Its not lust.. You probably don’t realise but you really do drive me insane and numb me at the same time. It’s weird isn’t it? Having known each other for only a week yet I feel so much towards you y/n.”

I don’t care anymore, I’m saying what’s on my mind. I don’t care.

I have to, I can’t hold it in anymore.

I love her, I know I do.

“Shut up.. you don’t mean any of that.”

How can she say that? Such a clueless woman lost in denial.

“Oh but I do sweetheart. I mean every word.”

She lifts herself up on her elbows again, is she going to kiss me?

Oh.

I jerk slightly once her palm reaches my cheek harshly, it was the last thing I expected, really.

A slap from the woman I love, why did I love it? Why do I want to feel it again?

Why did she even slap me? Did I go too far?

“You can do that again if you like” I say, half amused.

But her gaze on me is sharp, “Stop it, Satoru. I’m being serious.”

The sound of my name leaving her lips only makes me smirk more, it just sounds so perfect. Like my name was made for her to say, and only her

“Okay, okay. I’ll stop.” I chuckle slightly as I move my hands away from her skin, “But why do you have to act so goody two shoes about this whole thing? It's not like anyone would know. I mean nothing happened after we had sex in my-“

“Because!” She cuts me off, sitting properly now.

My eyes narrow as I stare at her being unable to give a proper explanation, “Well? Because what?”

“We don’t know each other.”

“But we do know each other.” I can’t help but feel ticked off, we do know each other. We do. I know her, I’m sure of it.

“You're moving way too fast..” She sighs out, palm on her forehead.

“I don’t really care if I’m moving too fast. So what? I like you, do you like me?” It just slipped out, is that how I’m going to confess? It sounded shitty.

I need to do better.

“You’re so unserious. This whole relationship is to fix your image because you..” and you nudge your finger into my chest, “.. got caught doing drugs.”

Fine, I’ll be serious, sweetheart.

Just like you want.

My jaw grits at her words, frustrated. Mainly because she sounds so serious and uptight about this whole thing, and I can’t tell whether she dislikes me or is genuinely concerned because she cares.

“Yeah, I was caught doing drugs, so what? That’s my own goddamn life y/n. What right do you have to tell me what to do?”

She sighs, moving to lean against her headboards. “You just took everything I said the completely wrong way. I’m saying, you’re moving too fast. This relationship is to fix your image and for me to help you. That's all. Not for sex.”

Did I make it seem like I only want her for sex?

I look at her, she’s only here to fix my image. That's all.

“So you don’t care about me do you? You’re only here for me because of some stupid contract?”

“What? That’s not what I said.”

I scoff, trying to maintain my composure, “Then what are you saying? You’re only here to fix my image is that all? So you don’t actually care about me?” Here, I thought she would’ve liked me back.

Maybe I am thinking too far ahead of myself.

God, you’re so stupid, Satoru.

“I am here to fix your damn image, and because I do care, I wouldn’t have tried to save your fucking life a couple hours ago if I didn’t care.”

I look at her for a moment, my eyes scanning and studying her face to look for any signs of lies, any sign that she’s not telling the truth, but I can’t find one.

“You’re only here because you care.. because you care about me.” I say to myself slowly, my anger slowly disappearing as realisation finally sinks in.

“Not for sex.” She says.

I scoff jokingly, a small smile on my lips. Oh sweetheart, I know that. I’d never see her for just sex, is that what she thinks? Is that what I sound like? A sex freak?

“Yeah, yeah I know not for sex.” My tone switches from being light-hearted to serious, my eyes staring into yours, my words soft but firm, “And you care. About me.”

She stares back at me with confusion, and I just stare back with admiration behind my straight face. “You care. About me.”

“Why do you keep saying that? Of course I care about you I’ve been trying to help since the start.”

My lip curl up into a smile, a strange warmth going through my body, “Yeah you have, but I wasn’t sure if you cared about me because I was addicted or if you cared about me as a person.”

“What does that even mean?”

“Well I wasn’t sure if you were trying to help me solely because I’m an addict or whether you have feelings for me.”

“I don’t have feelings for you, Satoru.”

Her face is emotionless, my lips falling back into a straight line.

Don’t lie to me sweetheart.

“Right.. you don’t.. right..”

She sighs again, “Didn’t we both agree that hookup was meaningless?”

I looks into her eyes again, my mind completely scrambled as I looks for the right words to say. I don’t want to admit that I’ve been feeling something since the beginning if she’ll just shut me down like this. But it’s getting so hard to deny.

Why should I deny it anyway? I know how I feel.

“Well.. no, no it wasn’t meaningless to me.”

“Well it was Satoru. I’m sorry.”

I can’t help the gritting of my jaw at her words. My heart is starting to hurt now. What is she doing to me.

“Fine, it was meaningless. But tell me, how do you feel about me?”

“I see you as a friend, that I need to help, and that I worry about.”

She keeps denying.

Keeps. Denying.

“Just a friend? Nothing more?”

She nods, looking away.

She’s looking away, she’s looking away from me. She doesn’t want to face me.

She doesn’t want to admit it.

I know her. I’m sure of it.

But fine, keep denying it.

“Right.. just a friend. Got it.”

She continues to refuse to meet my eyes again, the both of us sitting in silence for a moment.

But it hurts, to have her deny like this. It feels like my heart is being stabbed a thousand times at her denial, it’s overwhelming.

The room feels as if it’s closing around me and all of a sudden I need to leave. “I'll go home, it's late. The tylenol should have hit and eased your muscles by now.”

I stand up from the bed and begin walking out the bedroom, wanting to get the hell out. It’s so suffocating.

“..I’m sorry.” She says quietly from the bed as I reach her door frame.

My feet stop in their tracks. I don’t say anything straight away, keeping my back to her, clenching my jaw and gripping my hand into a tight fist, trying to contain myself.

“Don’t apologise, you didn’t do anything wrong.”

Why does she always apologise?

My feet continue walking, heading towards the entrance of her apartment.

But my hand stops on the door handle and I pause. I stand there silently for a moment trying to understand what I’m feeling. A wave of mixed emotion overcome me.

I’ve never felt so many powerful and confusing emotions all at once, and it isn’t till now till I fully realise that all I want right now is to turn around and grab her and pull her back down onto the bed in my arms and to kiss her senseless.

The drugs.. they’re still in my system, it’s messing my mind and I need to be near her to calm me down.

But I can’t. I can’t calm down.

I love her, I can’t bear to let her go like this. I need her to give me a chance.

I need her to realise she likes me too, even if it’s not love.

Because I know she feels something towards me too, I just know it.

I need to do something.

I stand there for a moment longer, wrestling with the thoughts inside my mind, but eventually decide to throw all my restraint out the window. I can’t take it anymore sweetheart. I just can’t.

You’ve driven me crazy, and I need you to know what you’ve done to me.

I quickly turn around walking back towards her bedroom, she’s stood there, head down and about to shut the door before I stop her.

I need to confess to her properly, maybe then she’ll truly understand

My fingers quickly take hold of her wrist, tugging her towards me causing her to stumble against my chest, a desperate look in my eyes as I stare into hers full of confusion.

Oh god, she's just so.. so beautiful. So precious. So perfect. I can’t let her go like this. I can’t just be “friends” by contract.

“What the- Aren’t you leaving?” She says, staring up at me wide eyed with furrowed brows.

But she’s not pushing me away, she’s not writhing her arms telling me to let go of her.

Just as I expected.

I know she feels for me too.

My body towers over her as I look into her eyes with desperation, “I can’t.”

“What? Satoru get out.” She says, calmly. She’s so precious.

Ignoring her command, my hands take hold of both her wrists, pulling her closer, her body pressed against mine.

“Please y/n.. Please...” I say quietly as my breath brushes against her skin. I can feel her heartbeat, it’s so rapid, just like mine.

I hold her wrists tighter, needing her closer to me, needing to feel her body against mine, the pain in my heart is becoming too unbearable.

I bury my face into her neck as I wrap my arms around her waist, inhaling her heavenly body scent and relishing in the feeling of her body against mine. I allow myself to feel as much as possible, the pain in my heart slowly disappearing as I realise how addicting it is to feel her in my arms, how she smells, how she is.

The feeling of her warmth calms me, almost like a sedative.

She doesn’t move, doesn’t push me off her, doesn’t tense up, but I feel her shiver, I feel the flutter of her skin and I hear the hitch of her breath as I nuzzle into her neck further.

My grip around her waist tightens. It feels like I’ll never get the chance to hold her again like this. My mind is numb, only filled with nothing but her smell, the feeling of her body, the sound of her breathing.

I can’t let her go, I will never let her go.

“Please.. Can’t I be selfish just this once? Just this once.. please.” I just want to hold her, to feel her. That’s all. Just to hold her and for her to hold me back.

“You already are selfish.”

I pull my head away from her neck and stare into her eyes again. I’m silent for a moment, but eventually speak again in a soft, pleading tone, “What? ‘Cause I take drugs?” And she doesn’t respond, she doesn’t look at me. Averting her gaze elsewhere.

“What does that have anything to do with this? How does that have anything to do with me wanting to be greedy with you right now?”

“You're acting on being high you’re not sober right now-“

I scoff in slight disbelief at her words. My heart clenches.

She’s telling me that I’m only holding her like this because I have drugs in my system, that I wouldn't be doing this if I were sober.

That's not true, I know that I’m sober enough, enough to know my own feelings at least.

I love her. I do. This has to be love I’m feeling because I’ve never felt such intensity towards anyone else. I’ve never acted intensely when it’s come to anyone else.

“You don't know if that's why I'm doing this.”

“You literally overdosed earlier, they’re in you, you’re high.”

“Yeah.. Okay? And? That doesn't mean I can’t think clearly right now. I’m sober. I know what I’m doing.” Oh, if only she knew the reason why I overdosed.

God she drives me mad.

“No you don’t Satoru. Go home already.”

I scoff again, my arms instinctively tightening around her further, my body refusing to release her from my hold. The feeling of her body against mine is so damn addictive and I can't get enough of it.

“I'm not going. I'm too selfish, remember?”

The feeling of her body against mine is driving me crazy but numb at the same time, my mind consumed with nothing but the need to have her closer and closer, the more I can feel, the more I can breathe her in, the better. I just want to melt into her.

I bury my face back into her neck, nuzzling into her skin, inhaling her scent and the moment I do, it’s as if I just snorted something so mind numbing it’s made me go haywire.

I can't help it, I can't hold back anymore. God, I need her so bad. I need her to understand how I feel, how mad she drives me.

I need her to understand.

I push her against the wall of her bedroom, trapping her between the wall and my body, my hands grip her hips now, my face so incredibly close to the warmth of hers.

Our hearts beat and knock against each other, our heavy breaths colliding.

“Satoru I’m being serious we can’t.. the contract..”

I’m getting tired of hearing her mention that damn contract or the fact that this is a fake relationship, the more times she says it, the more my heart feels like it's being stabbed over and over again. I just want to just hold her and never let go.

I stare into her eyes with sadness and desperation as I speak quietly, “But I'm being serious too. why can't I just have you..?”

“I don’t feel anything for you so stop it now!” She yells into my face.

I freeze, my eyes full of desperation but still unwilling to give up on her because I know she feels for me. I just know it.

Gut feeling.

Reader POV

“I’m being serious..” You say, a slight hesitation in your voice.

What does he even want?

He keeps staring into your eyes with that sad, desperate look. “It’s been a week, Satoru. A week. You need to calm down. Go home please” You say, concern etched into your face as you speak.

“Calm down? How can I calm down when the feeling of you in my arms is driving me insane. You want me to calm down, but I can't. Tell me, are you sure you don't feel anything, really? Is this really all just fake to you?”

“I don’t.” Maybe you do feel something for him, but how can you be so sure? It's just mere attraction, but who wouldn’t be attracted to him?

He lets out a strangled scoff at your words, “Bullshit. I don't believe you. You don't have the slightest feeling towards me? Not one drop of care or affection you feel towards me?"

What is he even talking about?

“I’ve told you this, Satoru. Of course I care about you, as a friend. Why are you moving so fast? You’re taking everything out of proportion as if we’ve known each other for months.” You need to shut him down before he escalates any further, need to make him understand.

“I’m not moving too fast. You don’t get it, you don’t understand how I feel.”

What is he actually even talking about right now?

“I think I love you.”

You freeze, he doesn’t mean that. He does not mean that.

How can he just say those three words with such ease?

“What?”

“God.. you don’t understand how I feel at all.” He’s inching his face closer to you now.

Love? Is he serious right now? It’s been a little over a week.

“Yeah, I don’t. Who falls in love with someone after a week of knowing them?” Because what? He's being illogical.

His grip on your hips tighten, a shiver running through your skin forming goosebumps on your arms, "I do, okay? I feel like my heart is being crushed when you say you don't feel the same way because I know you do, you just want to deny it. I'm desperate for you, l'm so unbelievably desperate for you, you just don't understand.”

What?

Is he going insane? What is he talking about? You can’t even seem to think.

“I'm so desperate for you my heart hurts, I can't handle it if you only view me as a friend, I need you to feel for me more than that...l need you to feel more for me…”

What the hell is he saying?

You stand there, shocked, confused, muddled as he pulls you closer against him.

Suddenly everything feels hot, his breath against your face, his hands on your body, why does your body feel so limp under his touch?

He buries his head back into the crook of your neck, nuzzling his face into your skin and you can feel his heart pounding against yours.

"You don't get it.” He mumbles into your neck, tone filled with need and a slight tremble in his voice, “You don't understand the things you're making me feel. My mind can't function right when I'm near you. I can't think of anything else other than you when im near you. I can't sleep at night without you in my mind... I can't focus on anything other than how you make me feel everytime I’m around you and I need more... I need more of you-"

“You’re just high, Satoru.” He can’t possibly mean any of that, it makes no sense to you.

How can anyone be so desperate for someone.. in such a short amount of time? How can he be so desperate for you out of all people?

Abruptly, he pushes you against the wall again making your breath hitch, his body pressing hard against yours, pinning you between him and the wall.

“No, l'm not listening to this anymore. Stop telling me I'm high or whatever. I'm telling you I'm not. I'm thinking completely clearly right now, I need you to understand, I don't care if it's been a week. I'm feeling these feelings for you and they're eating me up.”

“Why? Why do you even feel that?” Why is this escalating so far.

He looks at you as you look back at him, his eyes piercing into yours as he looks into your face, his arms wrapped around you, holding you against the wall, "Why? Why do you think!? Because I don't control the way I feel towards you. You're like a drug, you've got me addicted to you. Look what you’re fucking doing to me.”

Who is this man? This isn’t Satoru..

“I’m not a fucking drug. Don’t you dare say that.”

“You are to me. You've got me addicted alright. I physically cannot control myself around you anymore. The moment I'm in your presence it's like every thought disappears from my mind except you...your body, your scent, you, I'm addicted to it, I'm addicted to you.”

He can’t.. be serious. You don’t even know how to respond. Your mind is just full of questions, why is he confessing his love?

Why does he love you? You’ve barely done anything to make him feel that way. This man is insane.

He buries his face into your neck again and you can’t help but relish in the feeling of his warmth melting into you, his hands roaming all over your body, his fingers gripping your hips, your waist, your arms, anything.

But a drug? Addictive? How can he say those words and link them to love? Has he grown that attached to them?

“No.. no, Satoru. Don’t you dare refer to me as something that’s killing you.” You say, your eyes glancing down at him with furrowed brows as nuzzles into your neck, but he chuckles. The vibration of it going right to your core.

What is happening right now. What is happening.

“My sweet girl.. you are killing me.” He mumbles against your skin, “You’re killing me as we speak, destroying me when you keep denying your feelings for me that I can so obviously see, you keep denying yourself.”

“.. What?”

“You heard me. You're driving me crazy, making me feel insane, desperate...addicted, don't you get it? You're consuming my mind. You’re making me go fucking insane, got me acing like a desperate pathetic fool.”

You stare at him, confusion and shock running through your blood and displayed on your face. You can’t seem to understand anything right now, can’t even process his words properly.

“I don’t understand you-“

His hold on your hip tightens, your bodies flushed against each other as he lifts his head to meet your eyes again, “You honestly don't understand? you don't get it? You're killing me, you're driving me insane, making me want to lose my damn mind...you're doing things to me that nobody's ever done before, you're making me feel things that I never knew existed.”

“Satoru stop, just get out.” You don’t want a love confession, you won’t even be able to handle it or respond.

He needs to leave.

“Don’t tell me to get out.” He says, his teeth gritting as he speaks.

“Satoru I don’t have feelings for you and the contract-“

“To hell with the damn contract! Stop mentioning that thing.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“I don’t care about the contract y/n. I don’t.”

“Well I care.”

“Well I'm tired of listening to you going on about that contract all the time. I've said I don't care about it, why can't you just listen to me? The more you mention it, the more irritated I get, I don't want to hear it, I don't want anymore talk about the contract when all I want is you.” He says, his eyes turning from frustrated to pained.

“How is all this just.. just so casual to you? Everything we do, how is it all fake to you?”

“Satoru-“

“Y/n you’re driving me insane. You’re killing me.”

“Don’t say that, you don’t mean that, you’re too drugged to think straight-“

“You're turning me into a desperate, pathetic fool.”

You don’t respond, staring at him in confusion and irritation, his face so close to yours it’s almost making it difficult to breathe.

"Do you want to know why I overdosed? The real reason?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Guess why I overdosed, really.”

“What? Why do I need to guess that?”

“Because you’ve made me fucking desperate, so guess why I overdosed.”

You stare at him, lips parted, brows furrowed and widened eyes filled with concern as you breathe heavily at his tightened grip and close proximity. “Stop it.”

“No...no I won't stop. I want you to hear this, and I want you to realise how much of a grip you have on me, how much you're affecting me. So tell me, guess why I overdosed earlier. Go on.”

Is he trying to torture you?

You don’t want to guess, don’t want to think anymore.

His words linking to his overdose. He can’t be serious.

How much you affect him? You’re driving him insane? You’re killing him? A week within knowing each other?

Is he crazy?!

You exhale as you look down, not wanting to answer his question. Because of you?

How does that make sense? Your chest tightens and clenches at the thought. He can not be serious. None of this makes sense.

“Stop it, Satoru. You’re not making any sense..”

He tilts his head, his eyes locked onto you and you can feel his gaze just burning and lasering into you, his body still pinning you against the wall.

“No I won't stop, I can't stop. I'm done holding back, I want you to see… I want you to know how crazy I am for you. So tell me, tell me why I overdosed.”

You can feel your eyes brim with tears at his words, your brows stuck in their knit of irritation and concern. Your heart feels so.. so tight, like as if the bones in your body are wrapping around the organ.

No..

You can’t possibly have this effect on him. It doesn’t make sense. It’s too much.

Too much for just a week.

He grabs your chin tightly, making you look up and forcing you to meet his gaze again, “Don't look away from me, look me in the eye when you answer me.”

This is Satoru?

Slowly, his head leans closer, the skin of his forehead pressing against yours with gentle ease, his eyes piercing down into yours and your breath quickens.

“Say it...say it out loud why I overdosed.” He says quietly, clear for you to hear but almost a desperate whisper, “Say that I overdosed because of you...say it.”

Oh my god.

Your breath hitches as he answers it clearly for you. The bottom of your lip and hands trembling in complete terror.

“No.. no you didn’t.” And before you even know it, your eyes are burning and tear filled with a combination of confusion, horror and sadness as you turn your head away from him, staring at your bedroom door instead of him. Too afraid to meet those blue eyes of his.

How could he do such a thing over you? This man is insane.

Why would he even tell you that? To prove his damn insanity of love to you??

“Don't look away from me.. don’t you dare look away from me.” His hand is gentle as he places it onto the skin of your cheek, forcing you with ease to turn and look back at his face as you tremble, yet his voice is firm, his words are terrifying. "Look me in the eye and tell me why I overdosed. Now. I want to hear it from your lips, want you to know how mad you have me for you that you just can’t seem to grasp. The things you do to me y/n.. it’s all so new to me.”

“Satoru.. What..? Why would you even..?” You can’t even form a proper sentence, your entire body trembling at the thought of it as your tears remain stuck in your eyelids and scorch against the edge.

Why would he do such a thing over you?

Does that mean you could’ve been the reason for his death?

What is wrong with him?

This isn’t the same Satoru you knew a few days ago, in fact, this isn’t even the same Satoru you knew a day ago.

“Please.. say it. Tell me why I overdosed, just say it.” He whispers, his fingers gently caressing your cheek causing the goosebumps on your arms to expand, your body feeling limp under his touch, yet his revelation is anything but gentle. “I feel like I’ve gone completely insane because of you.”

You don’t understand anything, your mind is a mess around him.

Why does he want you to say it so badly?

You shake your head in disbelief, quiet choked cries escaping your lips as he leans closer, his nose brushing against the side of yours, stopping you from looking away from him.

“Say the words..say the reason why I overdosed. Come on sweetheart, tell me.”

You slap him without thinking, again as you choke out with widened, horror filled eyes, “Why the fuck would you do something like that because of me?!”

He looks back at you with his own widened eyes the moment you slap him across the face and just stands there for a moment.

What does he expect to get out of this??

“You seem to really like slapping me, huh?” He says as his hand reaches up to his now faintly red cheek, his eyes still fixated on yours.

“You really don't get it? You really don't realise why I ended up doing that?” He shakes his head as if he can't believe you, as if you’d be happy about this.

“I was so fucking angry at myself for arguing with you. So... so angry. You just wanted to help my damn issue and I was pushing you away because I was scared of hurting you. I felt so pathetic. I thought you'd hate me, and that thought made me go insane y/n. Youre making me go insane and I can't control these fucking feelings. I don’t want to hold them back or ignore them anymore.”

It's as if your thought process just freezes, you can’t process anything.

“It's been.. a week.. Satoru. A week of us knowing each other..” You exhale quietly, completely in disbelief.

“I know it's been a week! I know that, you don't think I've been telling myself that?” His fingers tangle with your hair at the back of your scalp, caressing you with such gentleness it’s almost terrifying, yet it makes you shiver, it makes your body feel even more limp, it leaves you wanting more, more of his touch.

What is happening.

“I've been reminding myself that you're right, that it's been a week, that I can't possibly have these feelings for someone I just met...but then I remember it's you...and I can't help but lose my mind. I'm going insane right now.”

He tightens his grip on your hair, pulling you so close to his face you can almost memorise the pattern of his breaths. His other hand on your hip pulls you flush against his body and it’s like your hearts are knocking on each other's doors.

“I know it's not normal to feel like this about someone I just met, but I do. I don't care if it's been a week, my heart aches for you, my mind is filled with nothing other than thoughts of you. It drives me mad y/n.”

“You’re so intense.. Oh my god, you’re insane Satoru.” You know, it sounds awful to say, to call someone insane when they’re confessing their feelings to you.

But it’s been a week.

Maybe you’d understand if a month passed by, but a week?

You can feel your breaths growing heavier with each passing second. The air grows thicker, each inhale and exhale becoming more pronounced. Your chest rises and falls noticeably and you can’t seem to regulate it again to go back to normal.

His blue eyes remain locked onto yours, unwavering, and the proximity only makes your heart race faster. You try to steady yourself but the intensity of the moment leaves you breathless, your breathing betraying your composure.

He lets out a strangled scoff at your words, “I know that! I fucking know that! Why else do u think I got so mad at you for trying to help? or how I'd get so defensive around you when you'd bring up my addiction? I'm a fucking addict y/n.”

“That’s not what I meant, not at all. I didn't mean you’re insane because you’re an addict.” Your voice is cracking now, you tighten your lips, inhale heavily and speak through a broken tone, “Oh god.. Satoru.. How could you overdose over an argument we had?” Your arms wrap around his neck, holding him close by the head against your neck as you tremble.

He’s the one who started the damn argument so why would he even..? And you weren’t even mad at him?

“Oh sweetheart, what don’t you understand?” He breathes into your neck, “I think of you constantly, all the time. You're the reason I'm losing my mind. After the small argument we had, it was all I could think about during practice and I was so damn angry at myself for talking to you like that.”

You feel him nuzzle into you, you hear him inhale your scent, you feel him relax into your touch, you have to hold yourself back from caressing and massaging his scalp.

He wraps his arms tightly around your waist, pulling you closer to him, as if his body needs to feel every part of you, “And not just today, since the day I found out I’d be in this “relationship” with you, Always. And I didn’t know why, because it felt stupid when I didn’t even know you, but I’m so fucking attracted to you. I was attracted to you when I saw you at that celebration party we held too, always. You’ve always been on my mind.”

The celebration party? That was so many months ago.

But you still can’t get the idea of him overdosing because of an argument with you out of your mind.

Why the hell would he tell you that?

Why does it make you so angry? So pained at the thought?

“God, you’re so insane.. Why the hell would you..”

He lifts his head from your neck, his eyes filled with a mixture of anger and deep pain, “Yes! Yes I am insane! I'm obsessed with you, I'm a pathetic mess because of you. But I don't care. I don't care that I'm insane, and I'm going to keep being insane because of you. You're so deep inside me and I can't control it.”

“You’ve only known me for a damn week, Satoru! You’re moving so fast you need to relax-“

But he cuts you off, frustration and desperation clear in his gaze and evident in his voice, “I already told you I know it's only been a week! I don't care about how much time has passed. I don't care that it's only been a week. Don't you get it? The speed at which I've fallen for you doesn't matter. I'm not going to control how I feel. I'm not going to slow down the way I'm feeling just because it's only been a week. I’m not going to hold myself back anymore.”

His long fingers caress the edge of your jawline with so much tender care it only sends more shivers through your veins. Your tremble is constant, each breath coming out heavier and more laboured than the last, the air catching in your throat.

His gaze is desperate, pleading for understanding but your mind is too much in a haze, unable to process anything from the intensity of the moment.

It’s all so overwhelming.

His eyes bore into yours with an urgency that makes your heart race even faster. You’re left speechless, unable to even speak full sentences, your senses overloaded by the closeness of his touch and the desperate emotion in those eyes of his.

“I can't control my feelings when it comes to you, I don't care that it's only been a week. I know I need to slow down, I know it's insane that I feel the way I do after such little time, but I can't control it. I'm already obsessed with you, I'm pathetic. l'm a hopeless mess and that isn't going to change.”

“Well it needs to change, Satoru. We can’t do this-“

“Why can’t we do this? Why can’t I feel this way about you? And I swear to God y/n, don’t you dare bring up that damn contract as an excuse-“

“Yes because of the contract and because it’s been a damn week and a few days of us knowing each other. What's wrong with you!”

“I don't care. I can't control the way I feel about you. My feelings aren't going to change just because we've only known each other for a short time. The moment I met you, it felt like something in me just clicked, and I can't ignore it, I can't stop thinking about you. So why shouldn't I act on it?”

“What clicked? What the hell is making you feel this way towards me?” Because you don’t believe him, really. You can’t seem to believe that he could love you.

He looks down at you, his fingers tracing feather-light patterns on the skin of your neck, causing your thighs to tighten against each other making your breath hitch. And the corner of his lips twitch upwards at the sight.

You had hoped he wouldn’t notice.

He has that effect on you, that effect that makes you crave more.

But you refuse to admit it.

You don’t want to. You don’t want another relationship. You’re fine with just this fake relationship, you’re fine with just friends.

“My sweet girl, I don't know exactly what it was.” He says as he smiles down at you, just slightly, “It was just something about you that I couldn’t ignore. It's something about the way you speak, the way you move, the way you look at me, the way you touch me. Everything about you just draws me in because you’re so damn soothing and mind numbing. It's like something inside me just lit up the moment I met you, and I've been burning for you since that moment. Every time I think about you, your skin, your scent, my heart starts beating so hard, I can't control it. God I'm so addicted to you. So damn addicted. That has to be love.”

Holy fucking shit.

How do you even respond to that? Nobody has ever spoken to you with such intense words ever. It’s too new to you.

Your lips part as you look up at him with wide eyes, your trembling slowly halting, “Youre so.. so intense..”

You feel awful, not being able to respond back the same. Because you don’t love him, you don’t even know your own heart right now.

You don’t know if you love him, but you do crave him. But that’s not love, you’re simply touch deprived.

You don’t think he truly loves you either, your skin? Your scent? So basically your body? Is it because you fucked?

But his words.. they’re so intense and romantic. But then again, he has drugs in his system, you know he does. What if he’s just acting out because of that?

You just don’t know.

Your mind gets so messy when it comes to him.

“Satoru.. I don’t get it. I’m sorry I really don’t. All I can think of is because I had sex with you one time and now you’re just lust filled. What you’re feeling isn’t love, it's just lust.”

He scoffs, “Do you honestly think I only like you because of that? I like you because of you, it's not just because we had sex once. I'm obsessed with you for so many reasons, it's more than just being attracted to your body.”

He pushes you harder against the wall, his body flush against yours, his hands still gripping onto your body, “It's more than just how you look, or how badly I want your body, it's more than that okay? I like you for you, not just because we had sex once, I am obsessed with you for so many reasons. Why can’t you see that?”

“So tell me.. please, tell me.”

Because what do you do when you simply don’t know how to respond to the man standing before you as he looks into your eyes with so much desperate intensity it shocks and confuses you?

What do you do when you feel and believe as if you’re incapable of such love that you simply deny it when you’re receiving it at this moment through a confession by a man you know you’re attracted to, but not in love with?

What do you do when you don’t even know what love truly is because you’ve never really experienced it?

What do you do?

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obsessedwithmiguel · 6 months ago

Text

Dealing with period cramps

Author's note: Good evening, I am on my period so I just had to. Also, I headcanon that he has warm hands, and since his hands are or almost the size of a paper, why not?

Summary: You're on your second day of your period and the cramps aren't letting you sleep. You took painkillers but the it's taking so long to take effect. Luckily, Miguel arrived just in time to save you.

Warnings: Descriptive text, fluff, femreader, Miguel being a pookie bear (I cringed while writing this nickname).

It was twelve at night, and you still couldn't fall asleep. Your body curled into a fetal position while keeping your left hand on your lower abdomen. The cramps were driving you crazy, you couldn't wait for the medicine to take effect. Neither position was comfortable for you, since you not only had pain in your lower abdomen, but also in your lower back. Turning from side to side on the bed, you even went to lie face down with your knees on the bed and your body curled like that of a frog. For a moment you felt relief, but you felt uncomfortable in the lower andomen as it were. And the fact that you were bleeding a lot didn't help.

You were tired of getting up, going to the bathroom and cleaning yourself and the blood not stopping. You even felt a twinge down there from time to time. You were also tired of having to change your pads every time you go to the bathroom because they are full of blood. The trash can is almost full to the brim with toilet paper and your pads wrapped in them. You missed him a lot. Your partner, Miguel. The man you've been married to for almost two years. The man who stole your heart, the man who cast a spell on you with that look that pierces your soul. With those ordinary brown eyes that for you were like seeing galaxies or different worlds in them. Those eyes that make you nervous but fill you with a lot of love and tenderness. Casting a spell on you as if he were Medusa and you were his victim who didn't complain at all.

Those full lips but at the same time a little dry when you kiss them. Those lips that you would bite as if it were a candy. As if they were cherries or strawberries. Those lips that only you were the owner of. That hair so silky and soft. Oh, how he loved it when you ran your fingers through his chocolate milk curls; massaging his scalp as he soaked in your warmth and touch. You missed his soft, warm skin, his touch. Despite the calluses on his hands, which wasn't many, you liked it when he caressed you with love and respect. You loved and missed those intimate moments when you were both in bed, snuggled up to each other silently as you showered each other with affection.

Today, Miguel told you that he would be late. That he was sorry that he couldn't come early to have dinner with you. One of the things he appreciated and loved was how much you understood his job and responsibility. How important that job was to him. Although, there were times when you would talk seriously with him about the time he spent with you; conversations which you had already had with him before you got married. You told him that now he had someone who was waiting for him at home, someone who cared about his well-being and that he was no longer alone. But he simply told you that he had a lot of work on him and that he couldn't leave it until last or it would pile up more and more. He promised you that he would make it up to you in any way possible: be it with dates at home, cuddles, etc.

You missed his voice, since it was a low and tired voice it relaxed you in a certain way. A peace of mind that you didn't even know he would give you. You missed his compliments and the way he told you that he loved you even if it was short and brief. You missed him, you needed him by your side. But his responsibility always came before you.

While you continued writhing in bed, a multicolored portal, mainly orange, opened in the hallway of your home. Heavy footsteps could be heard as a tall, broad silhouette peeked through the door. There he was. Miguel. Red eyes from staring at his office screens for so long. Dark circles under his eyes that revealed how tired and exhausted he was. Half-disheveled hair that he didn't bother to fix. Heavy eyelids that threatened to lower and cover his vision so he could rest. Miguel directs his gaze towards your bed, his gaze changes to one of concern when he notices your state. He approaches while shuffling his feet a little. He still had his holographic suit on.

"¿Estás bien?" He asked with clear concern. His voice slightly hoarse from fatigue.

(Are you okay?)

You just let out a whimper when you turned to look at him. His imposing figure in front of you before taking a seat on the edge of the bed. The smell of your menstruation reaches Miguel's nostrils, making him realize. Miguel's expression softens as he runs his hand over your forehead.

"Did you take the painkillers?"

You nod. "They did nothing." You complained. Your tears at the edge of your eyes. Your voice reflected the pain and desperation of some relief.

"Let me take a shower first and-"

"You can shower later." You interrupted him. "Stay for a bit before you go."

"Are you sure?" Miguel asked since he felt a little sticky and was reluctant to go to bed knowing that his skin felt like that.

"Yeah..."

Miguel sighs defeated and walks to the other side of the bed, laying down next to you. You moved closer to him and gave him a kiss on the lips before turning around and pressing your back against his torso. Miguel brings his face closer to your neck, inhaling the soft and subtle smell of your soap. The hologram that covered Miguel's left hand disappears, leaving the skin there exposed. Miguel runs his hand over your lower abdomen, caressing his hands against yours. You remove your hand and he takes the opportunity to replace it with his. His hand big enough to cover the swollen and sore area. His warm hand passing under your clothes so that the heat is direct. His hand gently caresses the area in a circular motion. The calluses of his hand rubbing against your skin. The warmth of his torso was beginning to ease the pain in your lower back. Miguel plants a kiss on the back of your neck as he closes his eyes. Clearly loving and enjoying the closeness.

"¿Mejor?" He muttered close to your ear. His breath tickling the sensitive skin of your neck.

(Better?)

You nod as you sigh contently. "Thank you. Maybe you should be my heating pad from now on."

"Am I not yet?"

You huffed a laugh before drowning into his loving touch and warmth.

"Love you."

"Tambien te amo, bobita."

(Love you too, silly)

#miguel o'hara #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o’hara headcanon #miguel o’hara x reader #spiderman #miguel o'hara x you #atsv headcanons #across the spiderverse #atsv miguel #miguel atsv #spiderman 2099 #spiderman 2099 x reader #fluff

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suddencolds · 2 months ago

Text

of painkillers and lenience

...hello! 😭 I wrote this way back in April; it's been sitting in my drafts ever since. Chronologically, it takes place shortly following Atypical Occurrence.

I wasn't sure if I was ever going to post this. I suppose it's more a character study than a proper romantic installment :') but it's an exchange I'd been wanting to write for a long time.

you can find everything I've written in this universe here!

—

Summary: Yves comes down with something. His best friend wonders where Vincent is, in all of this.

—

Perhaps it’s merciful that it’s on a Sunday that Yves wakes up with the slightest tickle in his throat.

Yves has an idea what it means. He’s had the flu enough times in his life to know that it comes on quickly. Maybe if he attempts to sleep it off, he’ll have a better time over the next few days.

Or maybe not. He cancels his Sunday plans, goes through his itinerary. There’s a slew of emails he’ll have to send off, a handful of meetings he’ll probably have to reschedule for this coming work week. He’ll need groceries, too, to last him the week—ideally something that won’t take too much effort to make. Resting now seems like it’d be a waste of time. Best to get everything over with before the illness has a chance to properly settle, he thinks.

He really does mean to stop by the grocery store. It’s perhaps just the timing that doesn’t work out as planned. Between figuring out how to reschedule everything that’s coming up with work—figuring out who he can ask if he needs to reallocate any of his assignments to anyone else, rearranging things for clients, and getting all the paperwork in order—all of it takes him nearly two hours. He wanders into the kitchen to make himself a cup of tea, finds himself having to turn aside to cough, notes the unpleasant sting in his throat when he turns back around.

It’s not terrible yet, but he feels distinctly off. His head feels a little heavy, and everything he does feels strangely—sluggish, maybe. Like he can’t quite manage to be as efficient as usual. Judging by past experience, he’s probably going to crash in a few hours.

He can already feel a headache brewing. Staring at his computer screen probably hasn’t helped with that. If he takes something for it, it’ll probably be at least tolerable when it gets worse.

He opens the medicine cabinet, rifles through the couple bottles and the first aid kit he has stashed in there.

Right. He’s out of Advil.

It’s no matter. Just a quick grocery trip, then—he can grab the rest of his groceries while he’s at it. Yves shuts the bathroom cabinet, grabs his wallet and keys, and makes it all the way to the doorstep outside when the wave of dizziness hits him.

All of a sudden, he feels a little lightheaded. Heat crawls up under his skin, prickling and unpleasant, as if something in him has cranked up the heat generation to the max—but that can’t be right, because he’s shivering inexplicably in the wake of it. He leans his weight back against the wall, squeezes his eyes shut.

Fuck. He probably should have gotten groceries first, before sorting out everything for work. Perhaps going out on his own now would not be the wisest.

He heads back in, locks the door, and—after some thought—calls Mikhail.

Mikhail picks up on the second ring. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Are you busy?” Yves starts, but the words catch on his throat, and he has to stop immediately to muffle a cough into his elbow.

There’s a moment of silence on the other end. “It depends what you’re about to ask me for,” Mikhail says.

Yves swallows. Shuts his eyes. He doesn’t like asking for help, but he doesn’t think he’ll be in any state to be doing this on his own over the next few days. “It’s not that urgent. Just if you have time,” he says.

He can almost feel Mikhail rolling his eyes on the other end. “You’d say that even if you were bleeding out.”

Yves laughs, startled. “I promise I’m not bleeding out. Just—do you think you could run to the store and get me some Advil?”

There’s another, longer pause on the other end. “Any time is fine,” Yves says. A part of him already regrets this. “If you’re busy right now—”

“I’ll be over in a few,” Mikhail says. Then the line goes dead.

—

He doesn’t remember drifting off, but when he wakes, it’s to a knock on the front door.

The knock is just for courtesy, of course. Mikhail is one of a few people whom he’s permitted the privilege—or the burden, perhaps—of having a spare copy of his apartment key.

Yves opens the door anyways.

There, in the windy April weather, Mikhail shuts an umbrella and leaves it dripping at his feet. “You look even worse than you sounded over call,” is the first thing he says.

Yves blinks at him, surprised. “Did I really sound that bad?”

In lieu of answering, Mikhail just looks at him, scrutinizing, the corner of his lip ticking downward. “What is it? An injury? A migraine?” When Yves shakes his head, Mikhail presses forward to pick a stray lint ball off of Yves’s shirt. His hand makes contact with Yves’s shoulder, and he frowns.

Before Yves has a chance to explain, he feels a tickle—not the first, today, and certainly not the last—surface. It’s irritatingly difficult to ignore, more irritating still when he finds himself forced to turn away, to duck into one arm—

“hHehh-!’ hEHh’yyiISCHh-HHEEW!”

The sneeze is rough enough to scrape against his throat. He coughs tightly into his raised arm.

“A cold,” Mikhail says, with a frown. “But usually you don’t take Advil for colds. Wait—don’t tell me this is something worse?”

Yves winces. What is he supposed to say to that? “The Advil was all I needed,” he says. “Thanks for making the trip. I owe you one.”

“No, I’m sure of it now,” Mikhail says. “If it were only a cold, you would’ve driven out to get this yourself.”

“It probably isn’t,” Yves says, neglecting to mention that he knows exactly where he caught this. “Thanks for bringing these. I’ll take the next couple days off. I—”

The next sneeze sneaks up on him. He ducks into his sleeve again, taking another step back.

“hHhEH’iiDzzsCHH-yYew!” The sneeze sends a burst of pain through his temples, and for a moment, he’s glad his face is too deeply buried into his sleeve for Mikhail to see.

“Does Vincent know?” Mikhail asks.

The question catches him off guard. “What?”

“That you’re apparently unwell enough to ask me to pick up Advil for you.”

Yves doesn’t like where this conversation is going. “I told you not to come if you were busy.”

“It’s not a problem,” Mikhail says. “But if you’re sick, shouldn’t he be over here, taking care of you?”

“He’s had a really busy few weeks,” Yves says, which is true, but simultaneously might be true at any point during the year. He clears his throat. “I - coughcough - wouldn’t want him to catch this.”

“So he doesn’t even know,” Mikhail says.

…Perhaps Yves should’ve thought of a more convincing excuse. Mikhail isn’t the type of person to drop an issue after he’s raised it, and Yves had, perhaps, neglected to think about how—for all Mikhail does to appear casually disaffected—he’s one of the most perceptive people Yves has ever met. “He doesn’t have to know.”

“What are you talking about? He’s your partner. I’ll text him,” Mikhail says. It’s then when Yves recalls that Mikhail probably does have Vincent’s contact—exchanged before their trip to France, so that he could text them all to coordinate the rides to and from the airport.

“Wait,” Yves says, unable to keep the panic out of his voice. “Don’t. If you text him, he’ll - snf-! - feel obligated to come.”

Mikhail doesn’t lower his phone. “I’ll just ask him to drop by,” he says. “You can talk to him about it when he gets there.”

But that won’t happen—can’t happen—because Yves knows that if Vincent were to see him like this…

I’d feel terrible if you caught this, he’d said. He’d sounded so upset over it. How can Yves, after all his reassurances last week, admit to him now that he’s faring badly enough to need someone to look after him?

Besides, Vincent probably has enough on his plate already. Yves knows enough to know that in their line of work, taking time off almost always means being swamped with assignments upon return.

“Please don’t ask him anything,” Yves says.

Mikhail looks long and hard at him. He looks as though he’s trying to puzzle something out. “Did you guys get into a fight, or something?”

“No,” Yves says. “It’s nothing like that.”

“Then, if you’re on good terms, why are you so resistant to the idea of him coming over?”

Yves squeezes his eyes shut, and then opens them. He can think of a dozen more excuses to field away the questions—that isn’t the hard part. Mikhail has always been good at seeing through his bullshit, but if Yves has to steer this conversation to a close through sheer willpower, he thinks he can do it. But then again—

Maybe it’s fine, he thinks, if Mikhail knows. For better or for worse, Mikhail is his best friend. Yves knows that if he asks him to keep his mouth shut about this, he will.

“Vincent is my coworker,” he says, slowly.

Mikhail’s eyebrows creep up. “Yes, I’m aware.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Yves says, with a cough. “He is just my coworker. Nothing else.”

The alarm that flashes across Mikhail’s face is unmissable. “You two broke up?”

And there it is—another crossroads, where Yves thinks the easiest course of action would be to reshape the current lie into a simpler one, to keep the trappings of their fake relationship intact. With anyone else, it would be easier, that is.

Yves says, honestly, “We were never together in the first place.”

“But you went with him to France,” Mikhail says, confused. “Not to mention, to Margot’s new year party, and then to Joel and Cherie’s housewarming. Are you telling me—”

“That was all an act,” Yves tells him, and waits for this information to register. “There is nothing between us that’s real. That’s the reason I haven’t called him.”

The recognition settles on Mikhail’s face. Then he laughs, a little disbelieving. “You’re really not dating him? Why would you lie about that?”

“Do you remember Margot’s party?” Yves asks. It seems like the right place to start, after everything. “Erika was there with Brendon. And I was bitter, and—to be honest, jealous—and I wanted to show her I was fine. So I asked Vincent to go with me.”

“That was months ago,” Mikhail says.

“It was easier to just keep up the act, after that.” Yves says. “Easier to have him accompany me once a month than it would have been to stage a proper breakup. But obviously, this is all temporary. I just haven’t figured out when it’s going to end.”

Mikhail is quiet for a moment. Yves looks past him, at the staircase that leads down to the first floor.

“You’ll be fine, then,” he asks. “If you two break it off.”

“Of course,” Yves says. “I know it’s going to happen someday.”

“You won’t be upset at all?”

“What is there to be upset over?”

“From the way you spoke to him, I really thought there was something there,” Mikhail says.

“He is a good liar,” Yves says.

“Maybe so,” Mikhail agrees. “But you are not.”

He says it so calmly, it barely registers as an accusation. But Yves hears it, loud and clear.

“Vincent is attractive,” Yves says. “Anyone with eyes can see that. That’s all there is to it.” it feels wrong, even as he says it. Yves has always known Vincent to be attractive—that much hasn’t changed. But he knows that the feeling in his chest when he sees him at work, in the break room, or at lunch—the unusual ache—is a little more than that.

“Margot’s party was at the end of December,” Mikhail says. “It’s April, now. Margot wouldn’t tell you this, but since I don’t like withholding my feelings from you, I will.”

Yves waits—waits for Mikhail to tell him how all of this has been unduly dishonest, how Mikhail doesn’t appreciate having been lied to.

But Mikhail doesn’t say any of that. Instead, he says: “If you’re still intent on keeping this fake relationship up…” Here, he meets Yves’s eyes, a little sternly. “You should think about who you’re really doing it for.”

It’s only for convenience, Yves wants to say. Now that we’ve set things up already, it’s merely the path of least resistance. But that isn’t quite right, is it?

“Don’t worry about me,” Yves says, trying a smile. “Vincent and I have talked this through already. Whatever happens with our arrangement, I’ll be fine.”

“Okay,” Mikhail says. He pockets his phone, and then hands Yves the bottle of Advil. “Sorry for the interrogation, then. If you believe it to be fine, I trust you.” Perhaps that’s the worst part of it. Mikhail has never been the type of person to stay quiet about any foreseeable problems, but Yves knows that his agreement now is not a tactical retreat, nor is it an acknowledgment that it’s not worth arguing over something they won’t agree on. Mikhail is dropping the subject because he really trusts him.

Yves just doesn’t know if that trust is justified.

Mikhail turns on his heels, steps delicately past the hinge at the bottom of the doorframe.

Yves clears his throat. “Thanks for stopping by.”

Mikhail nods. “Feel better soon. If you need anything other than Advil, just give me a call.”

Then he’s gone. Yves shuts the front door behind him and wonders just what exactly he’s gotten himself into.

#sneeze fic #snz fic #sneeze kink #snz kink #snzfic #i wrote the majority of this on 4.21.2024 😭 initially with the intention of writing much more #(atypical occurrence part... 3?)#but i think it feels most fitting to just end it here :') that is what i have the stamina for in any case #i feel the need to apologize for how short this is + for the fact that vincent is entirely absent #you can maybe see why i hesitated for almost 7 months before posting it #a couple notes:#mikhail (yves's former college roommate and current best friend) is mentioned in the first installment i ever posted #but he shows up most substantially in foreign home #i am fond of their friendship dynamic... is it obvious? 😭#yvverse #my fic

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going-to-ikea-for-the-fries · 10 months ago

Note

I'm really sick and Satan's sacrificial waterfall is here AT THE SAME TIME!

I don't know if you do blurbs or headcannons, but if so, would you be willing to write for the boys (either taskforce 141, or singular characters,) taking care of an afab reader who has never had anyone wanting to take care of them?

If not, sorry to bother!

I don't typically take requests but... since I'm in the same boat (sacrificial waterfall is probably going to come over the weekend for me), I'll 100% do it.

A while back I also posted this: "You're feeling ill" and it's also along the same vein, if you'd like an extra little pick me up.

Period woes.

Rating: G Words: 1K~ tags: afab!reader but you/your pronouns, SFW!, fluff, comfort, periods and associated symptoms.

A person’s period might be the most hypocritical moment of their routine. They’re expected to continue moving, working and living their live as normal, all with a smile on their face, while their uterus actively attempts to cut off its own circulation… as if for any other injury or sickness you wouldn’t be expected to lay down and STOP for a moment and allow yourself to heal up, or at least improve enough to not be miserable.

But no. You’re expected to deal with it alone, to not show a reaction, to not be irritable, or groaning and writhing in pain. Take a shower, stock up on painkillers and slap a smile on your face, you’ve gotta go out in the world and act as if you’re not actively dreading every waking moment you spend on your feet.

That’s why you’ve learned to hide it when you’re going through your monthly. Your family, partners… not even your girlfriends know when you’re having it. Ever since you were a young teen, just starting out, it was very much a conceal, don’t feel, don’t let them know, sort of moment.

But it’s miserable. You’re always miserable. Everything hurts, the cramps, the headaches, the back pain, hip pain, your sore chest… Plus the blood, the lack of appetite (or increase in appetite), the nausea, the fact you want to cry one moment, or break dishes and scream the next, the way your colleagues annoy you beyond compare, how certain sounds grit your nerves just. enough. to make you feel like you’re losing it… And then you can’t sleep.

And of course… he notices it. How could he not?

Ghost is discreet about it. He doesn’t mention it, doesn’t make a big deal about it… But he’s VERY good at taking care of you without you noticing he’s doing it. His love language is acts of service… So he simply goes around giving you a hand on whatever you might need. Food? Made. Dishes? Done. Laundry? Washed, Dried, Folded and Put Away. He finds you trying to do something? No. Give it here, he’ll do it.

The inevitable day that a leak happens and you find yourself angry at yourself as you strip the bedsheets off the bed, trying to be discreet about it so he doesn’t see it, he silently grabs the sheets off your hands and murmurs a “Go take a shower and change. I’ve got this.” before turning to put the sheets in the washer, clean the mattress and remake the bed so you can lay down again by the time your shower is over. It makes you emotional, sometimes, that such a stoic man will gladly take on every other responsibility to allow you to heal.

Gaz, blessed be him, is an absolute sweetheart… But he’s also a silly boy. He notices and although he’s not going to make a big deal about it, he’s still very… Boyish about it. Uses all the silly names for your period (“The Communists are coming”, “Shark week”, “Satan’s waterfall”, “Carrie”) and affectionately calls you “My little ketchup packet”.

He’s all for ordering takeout and getting you whatever you want when and how you want it. He’ll rub your back and be very careful about where and how he touches you. He’s ginger with touches around your waist and lower stomach, looks at you with those big brown eyes of his, as if checking that he’s not hurting you or crossing a boundary. You find yourself getting emotional when he whispers about how strong you are to deal with this every month… Keeps asking gently if you need anything… It makes you feel so safe.

Price’s older. He’s been in many relationships before. He notices your period is coming before it even does… Notices how you’re acting. Jumpier, grumpier, sadder… Notices how you toss and turn the couple of nights leading up to it. And he’s silently prepared. He’s made a supply run to the grocery store to get what brand of period products you use and some painkillers and puts them where you can see them in the bathroom.

Fills you up with warm herbal tea and food that he knows are easy to digest and help with your state. No fucking chocolate and sugar or potato chips, you’re being pumped full of soups and stews and veggies and cut up fruit. He’ll sit by your side with a paring knife and an apple and slowly peel, core and cut it, before slowly feeding you (and himself) the slices. When you try to resist it, at first, too used to doing things alone, he’ll grab your face with both hands, look into your eyes and tell you. “And why exactly would I let you do that, when you’ve got me here to help you? How does that make sense?”

Soap’s… Well… Soap’s got a bunch of sisters… Each of them dealing with their periods in wildly different ways... So one thing he knows for sure: He’s not about to assume anything. You do what you’ve got to, he’ll adjust to you. He needs to go to the bathroom but you’re in there? Copy that, he’ll go piss in the yard. You’re having a cry in the kitchen because nothing looks good but you’re hungry? Talk it out with him, what do you want to eat? Let’s figure it out together, bonnie. You need to lie down in a dark room because of a migraine or headache or just to catch on sleep you’ve missed? Johnny’s blacked out every window, gathered every stray pillow and blanket in the house and will make you a nest if he’s got to.

And when you wake up in the middle of the night with a whine and a stretch because your back hurts and you’ve got cramps and cannot for the life of you get comfortable, Johnny’s hands are rubbing over you, pressing kisses to your temple and murmuring little “I ken, love… It’ll be over soon… I’m sorry you’re going through this…”

#ikea writes 💚#cod fanfic #cod headcanons #reqs #simon ghost riley #captain john price #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #feeling sick #sickness #menstruation

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flowerandblood · 11 months ago

Text

The Doubt & The Delight

[ modern Frollo • Aemond x Esmeralda • female ]

[ warnings: sex content, oral sex, smut, angst, description of physical and mental disabilities, remorse, depression, hysteria attacks, swearing, trauma, suicidal thoughts, suicide attempt ]

[ description: After a car accident, his brother has to deal with the consequences of what happened, and he, as his protector, does not know how to help him. His sister comes up with the idea of hiring someone as his carer who will be able to cheer him up and occupy his mind. It turns out, however, that the girl he hired charmed not only his younger brother. Obsession, self-destructive behavior, verbal and physical aggression, sexual tension, dark, malicious Aemond. ]

Author's note: This story is a request, but I decided to freely use what I liked in the book and Disney film to create a new, disturbing story taking place in modern times. It is intended to be uncomfortable and will contain scenes that are at least morally questionable, in my version "Esmeralda" is not Romanian. This story will also include motifs from Jane Eyre, which was a separate request. My story will also touch on the problems of people with disabilities, so if these are sensitive topics for you, I advise against reading further. You have been warned.

Part 1 − The Knight & The Judge Part 2 − The Sin & The Penance Epilogue

Main Characters Moodboard Aemond NSFW Alphabet

This is the last part of this story. Thank you all for such a nice reception of this entire mini-series, it was supposed to be a oneshot, but as usual it turned out to be something more! This is probably one of my favorite works here and I can't wait to hear your opinions.

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Previous chapters: Masterlist

_____

That night, after what had happened between them, he sobbed silently for the first time since the day of the accident in which his parents died. He didn't know what else he could do − he felt helpless and couldn't sleep, despair completely possessing his heart and mind.

Don't ever touch me again.

We are even.

He clenched his eyelids, letting the tears run down the sides of his face onto the pillow lying under his head.

Some part of him wanted to go to her door, to fall to his knees and beg her to open it for him, to let him hold her close, to fall asleep in her embrace.

He needed her so much, but he knew he had no right to demand anything from her.

She was doing more than she had to anyway.

He shuddered as he heard the sound of the door opening; stupefied by the sedatives and painkillers for a moment he had no idea where he was or who he was − he raised himself up on his elbow and hissed, feeling his head ache incredibly.

He opened his eyelids and immediately closed them, blinded by the light from the windows − he gave up with a sigh laying back on the couch, trying to calm himself down.

"Daeron?" He called out loudly, trying to remember what had happened, whether he had drunk too much alcohol the evening before or overdosed on sleeping pills.

He heard someone's footsteps and froze when he saw her frightened face; she came towards him with her eyes wide open as if looking at a ghost, stopping at a safe distance.

"− I'm just helping him change, we'll come soon − God, how pale you are, should I call the doctor again? −" She muttered clearly genuinely horrified by his condition, but he shook his head quickly.

"− did you call the police yesterday? −" He asked lowly, thinking with horror that no one at the prosecutor's office could find out that he was still struggling with his trauma and had almost caused a car crash.

She shook her head quickly, playing with the fingers of her hand in a nervous gesture.

"− n-no − the man we almost collided with wanted to do it at first, but when we got out of the car and said you'd fainted he called an ambulance and let it go − he apparently decided you'd just had some sort of attack and didn't want to add to our problems −" She replied once looking him in the eye, once looking away − he could see that she clearly wasn't coping with the situation or what had happened between them.

He sighed in relief, running his hand over his face, thinking about the fact that securing Daeron's fate was now his priority and he needed to pull himself together.

"− I'm going to go help Daeron and we'll make something for breakfast soon −" She said quickly and turned away, moving down the corridor towards his little brother's room, disappearing behind the door.

The two of them had tried not to look at each other all morning, heartbroken and horrified by what had happened between them − they both felt that their lives had slipped out of their control and he resented himself for dragging her into it all.

The doctors advised him to stay at home for a few days and rest, so he called Alys to ask her to bring him his documentation.

"− sick leave? − something happened? −" She asked concerned, and he sighed heavily, tightening his fingers on the base of his nose, not having the strength for this discussion.

"− I've been overworking lately, I need to slow down − can I count on you? −" He asked matter-of-factly, hearing her snort of amusement on the other side.

"− sure − I'll be there in half an hour −" She replied calmly and hung up; he sighed heavily, running his hand over his face and put the phone down on the table top.

He glanced over his shoulder, hearing the sizzle of the pan and shuddered meeting her gaze − she lowered her eyes immediately as if caught in the act, concentrating on not burning the pancakes, Daeron wheeled around her in his wheelchair placing clean plates and cutlery beside her.

They ate breakfast together, both of them really only talking to Daeron, passing cups and juice to each other out of politeness only. He felt a pleasant shudder when his fingers touched hers, looking her straight in the eyes − her lower lip twitched a little, only a quiet, sad thank you came out of her mouth.

As they ate Daeron said he would do his own homework and then change her to look after him, as if he was now the one to take on the role of his caretaker.

As he left his Esmeralda stood up, picking up the dirty dishes from the countertop − he took his plate from her hand, swallowing hard.

"− no need, I'll do it − I'm better now, I don't want to force you to stay here any longer than necessary − thank you very much −" He said in a low voice, getting up from his seat and stepping around her, opening the dishwasher with a light movement, tossing in the cutlery and other dirty dishes she'd held earlier.

He felt her looking at him, his heart pounding like crazy, for some reason he wanted to cry again.

"− I'm sorry − for what happened yesterday −" She muttered in a whisper and he raised his shocked gaze to her, frozen still.

She stood in front of him covering her mouth with her hand, trying to silence the loud, ragged breath that shook her body along with the sob that wanted to break from her throat, tears began to fall from the corners of her eyes one after another.

God, she was remorseful.

"− no − no, stop − you didn't do anything wrong, I wanted it −" He said quickly, but she shook her head.

"− I couldn't sleep − I felt awful −" She uttered with difficulty, choking on her own tears, and despite her telling him never to touch her again he put his arm around her waist and pulled her to him in one sure movement − her body did not put up any resistance to him, her fingers tightened on his sweatshirt in a helpless gesture.

"− I-I'm sorry − I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you −" She mumbled out and burst into quiet sobs.

He thought with despair that he had broken this poor girl, brought her to a state where she felt like an abuser.

He embraced her tightly, snuggling his face into the hollow of her neck, stroking her back reassuringly − her wonderful scent and the warmth of her body had a soothing effect on him, he thought he wanted to remember this moment for a lifetime.

"− I'm the one who hurt you − I took something away from you and you tried to get it back − you asked me if I wanted it and I made it clear that I did − easy − breathe deeply − it's all right −" He whispered in a trembling voice, running his large hand through her back and hair. She snuggled into him so tightly that he felt tears under his eyelids himself − he pressed his lips together not wanting to let them flow out but it was no use.

"− thank you for everything − I'm feeling better now, I'll be fine by the time Helaena arrives − go home and get some rest − I'll think of something and explain to Daeron why you can't work for us anymore − I'll send you your pay by transfer so you never have to see me again − hm? −" He asked softly and she only nodded, her whole chest trembling in convulsion as she drew in a deep breath, trying to calm herself.

He wanted to tell her that he loved her.

He wanted to tell her that she was the most wonderful person he had ever met.

He wanted to tell her that if she ever needed help, she could always count on him.

He wanted to do that, but he only flinched when he heard the doorbell ring, reminding himself of Alys − they moved away looking at each other in pain, the sight of her wiping her cheeks red from tears broke his heart.

He realised that he was a monster.

As soon as he opened the gate for her, Alys walked into his house with thick folders of documents in her hands, looking elegant as usual in her jacket, long trousers and high heels. She smiled at the sight of his Esmeralda, and she pressed her lips together realising with horror that she stood dressed only in his hoodie.

"Good morning. We don't know each other yet." Alys said to her and held out her hand to her − she, not knowing what to do, herself embarrassed by the situation and how it looked shook her hand, squeezing it firmly.

"Good morning." She muttered and just threw to him that she was going to go see how Daeron was doing with his homework − Alys led her away with her eyes looking at her with a calm, curious expression on her face.

"Who is this beautiful little flower? In addition wearing your hoodie I think." She asked amused, a note of mock accusation in her voice, as if she had solved the equation. "Is it because of her that you can't concentrate lately?"

He threw her one warning, sharp look, which did not deter her, however − he sighed heavily and shook his head.

"She's Daeron's caretaker and she had to stay here to help me take care of him after I fainted yesterday. They were at a carnival ball together and she had nothing to change into." He replied coolly, wanting to end the subject quickly, frustrated.

"Is that why you both cried?" She asked lowly raising an eyebrow, the piercing look in her bright green eyes told him clearly that she felt the tension that hung in the air between them. He swallowed loudly, looking away, not wanting to look at her smile full of satisfaction.

"Thank you for bothering to come all the way out here. I'll be gone for a week, we're in touch." He replied dryly − she threw over his shoulder that if he needed her for anything he could count on her and smiled at his Esmeralda heading for the exit, saying it was a pleasure to meet her.

As the door closed behind her there was an awkward silence between them. He saw that she was wearing his hoodie and shorts that were too loose on his brother but on her they fit perfectly despite the manly cut, in her hand she held the bag with her costume.

She was leaving.

He will never see her again.

"Are you sure you can manage?" She asked uncertainly, not looking at him. She seemed pale to him, he thought that for some reason Alys' visit had saddened her, but he didn't even dare assume it might have had anything to do with him.

At most, she might have thought he was a bigger bastard and pervert than she suspected.

"Yes, we'll be fine. Thanks again." He muttered, trying not to look at her, but to poor effect, thinking only of how wonderful it was to hold her in his arms, how tightly she snuggled into him seeking refuge and comfort.

He realised that he craved such closeness from her as much as the touch of her naked body.

He wasn't just about sex.

She, however, merely nodded, raising her sad, tired, embittered gaze at him once more, and after a moment she turned and disappeared behind the door.

The hours leading up to Helaena's arrival he spent with Daeron, playing together FIFA'23 and other games that his brother thought would distract him from all the unpleasant events of the past weeks.

"Don't worry, everything will be fine. You just need to rest. It's good that you and Esmeralda have reconciled." He said clicking beside him on his pad, trying to win a race against him on the big space track. He swallowed hard, thinking with pain and shame that they hadn't reconciled at all, that they weren't even.

What she did was a desperate attempt by her to regain what he had taken from her, the feeling that she had power over her own body.

It didn't bring her any relief though − it seemed to him that it made her feel even worse.

She wasn't like him − she'd probably never behaved like this before, and she was horrified to find that she didn't recognise herself.

He had destroyed her, taken away her innocence, devoured her.

He pressed his lips together, trying to stop the burning tears that forced their way under his eyelids from flowing and grunted loudly, trying to focus on the game.

As he prepared the room where his sister was to sleep, and where his Esmeralda had previously spent the night, he noticed a purple cloth lying on the floor. He reached out and picked it up, realising after a moment that it was a scarf she had worn on her head in the form of a headband.

He pressed it to his face and closed his eyes, with a squeeze in his throat thinking that the material was permeated with her scent.

He kept it.

Helaena had arrived straight from the airport in a taxi for which she had paid crores − as soon as she stepped inside she dropped her suitcase, ran up to him and threw herself into his arms. He burst out sobbing, feeling her familiar, tender closeness.

He wasn't sure when was the last time someone had hugged him, stroked him, told him everything was going to be alright, that now he was the one being taken care of.

Taking the opportunity that Daeron was playing in his room on his laptop, they sat side by side on the living room couch to discuss what had happened.

"I think I've stopped coping. I'm slowly losing my self-control." He muttered, burying his face in his hands, feeling that he needed to at least partially throw off what was going on inside his head − he felt his sister stroking his back comfortingly.

"Me and Aegon left you alone with all of this, sinking into our own grief. We all focused on Daeron because we decided you were older and better able to handle it all." She said with pain and some kind of regret, as if she only now realised that he wasn't a fully formed adult then either.

He let the air out of his lungs, feeling like a small, clumsy child again, embarrassed that he wasn't coping, that he had chaos in his head, that he was stuck and unable to get out of the mess he had sunk all the way into.

"I thought it would be good for you to have a change. For you and Daeron to fly with me for a few weeks, get some rest, during which time we can work together to find you some sort of therapist, someone to help you get over all this." She said warmly, and he shook his head quickly, terrified of her suggestion, of having to reinvent himself somewhere, of not being in his home, of not having his things and activities.

"No, I can't do that. I need a rest, but here, at home. I do think, however, that it will do Daeron good to spend time with you, to get away from it all. Maybe when I have a bit of time to myself I can somehow…sort it all out." He muttered, feeling her worried gaze on him.

"You shouldn't be left alone."

"I haven't been alone with my thoughts for five years. I need this." He said regretfully, realising that he had devoted all his strength to his younger brother, leaving himself with nothing.

He felt empty.

"And he needs a change of environment. He sees me gloomy and tired every day. You will help me the most if you take care of him for a week or two so that I can get myself in order."

"You have to promise me that you will go to therapy. You're taking on too much on your shoulders." She said cautiously, and he nodded to her, wanting everyone to finally give him a break.

Daeron was at the same time happy about the sudden unplanned holiday, but on the other hand very worried that he was going to be left alone at home.

"But who will take care of you? Esmeralda?" He asked hesitantly, and he replied that he would manage on his own, that they would talk on the phone every day, that he just needed a bit of rest to think things over.

As they packed to leave he was with them in body, but not in thoughts which drifted far away to her, to what had happened between them.

Despite the fact that they had sex with each other twice, it was the memory of that morning in his kitchen when he held her in his embrace that he remembered most, the innocence and tenderness of that gesture, the warmth of her body, the smell of her hair, the fact that for a moment she had allowed him to get close to her.

He knew he would never see her again.

Waving them off, already seated in the taxi, watching them drive away he wondered what the point of living such a terrible person like him was.

He cleaned the whole house, sorted the papers in his office, put up the laundry and emptied the dishwasher, doing everything unhurriedly with complete silence all around him, only the sound of the wind outside the windows and the quiet pounding of raindrops against the windowsills.

He finally sat down on the sofa, staring dully ahead, before lowering his gaze to the small container of sleeping pills he'd been taking for days to get at least a few hours of sleep.

He wondered how many he'd have to swallow to not wake up.

He didn't know why his hand reached for his phone − his fingers tapped out a question on Google and, to his surprise, many different topics on forums about how to commit suicide painlessly popped up.

He read statements from some young, desperate, frightened people who couldn't cope with life and responses from others, some encouraging them to commit the act and explaining how to do it, others asking them not to do it, that they would be happy to talk to them, to support them through this difficult time.

He thought of Daeron, of how if he had done it, his little brother would have completely broken down, that it would only add to the pain of his whole family, and that Helaena would never forgive herself for leaving him alone.

That it would have been selfish of him.

On the other hand, his mind reminded him of his aggressive, merciless interrogations, the way he approached witnesses, the way he approached Alys, what he did to his Esmeralda when she recognised at once his malicious, dark nature.

How was someone like him supposed to continue to take care of Daeron? How was he supposed to pretend that he was a good man who could advise him on anything, be his authority?

He thought that his little brother should have stayed with Helaena − she was the calmest of them all, surely she would have handled his parenting much better, given him what he needed.

He reached for a small container of pills and stared at it, turning it between his fingers with a loud rattle, wondering dispassionately what he should do with himself.

He hummed as if he remembered something and slipped his hand into the pocket of his trousers, pulling out a thin, purple folded cloth − he looked at it, feeling the need to call her.

He didn't know why he would do that when he was sure she didn't want to see him and couldn't even look at Daeron, to whom he would have to explain why she would no longer be taking care of him upon his return.

He guessed that she would only pick up out of politeness, and he would again flood her with his problems, his suicidal thoughts, forcing her to worry about him, to feel sorry for him even though he didn't deserve her sympathy.

He didn't even know when he unscrewed the container, when he tilted his head and poured its entire contents into his mouth, taking a deep sip of water after this, letting his judgment of himself run deep into his stomach.

He seemed to regain his sanity only after a moment, staring at the empty vessel wondering what he had actually done.

Oh fuck.

God, what had he done?

No, no, no, no.

He went into a complete panic, his heart started pounding like crazy − he didn't know how much time he had before he lost consciousness, so in a gesture of helplessness he dialled her number quickly, wondering if she would answer from him this time.

He thought he was pathetic, but he was scared, there was no one else to turn to − his body was shaking all over from stress and terror, his breathing quick and raspy, tears of fear in his eyes.

Biip.

"− hello? −"

He heard her uncertain voice on the other side and drew in the air loudly, shocked, swallowing hard, taking a deep breath, running his hand over his face.

"− fuck − I − I − I did something very, very stupid − I took a whole packet of sleeping pills − I don't know what came over me − oh fuck, what have I done −" He muttered in a squeaky, high-pitched voice, like a helpless child who had broken a vase and realised what his parent would do to him when they found out.

"− what? − oh God − are you home? − I'm calling the ambulance −"

"− n-no − no, fuck, they'll kick me out of the national prosecutor's office − please −"

"− go quickly to the bathroom and try to induce vomiting − give me the code to your gate, I'll be right there −"

He seemed to act in an amok, as he rose from the couch everything around him swirled − she told him to take his phone to the restroom, so he did.

He fell to his knees in front of the toilet, shoving two fingers down his throat − after several attempts he finally threw up, whooping with his tears, coughing loudly, his whole body shaking in convulsions, his heart pounding like mad in his chest.

How could he do this, how could he be so selfish?

"− I'm sorry −" He mumbled, sliding slowly to the ground, feeling his mind begin to envelope in a blissful peace and quiet, her voice coming from the speaker of his phone seemed to him only a distant whisper.

He thought he would take a nap for a while, rest and when he woke up everything would be fine.

It seemed to him that minutes, hours or years might have passed when he felt someone move his body − he shuddered as someone's fingers forced their way between his lips, his numb body powerless to resist.

"− come on, please − get it out of you − God, what have you done − please, please, come on −" He heard her crying beside him, the tips of her fingers pressing against the back of his tongue, until finally his stomach convulsed with a powerful spasm, and his body threw it all out with his throaty cough of exertion.

He heard her sobs, smelled her scent, her closeness, how her hands washed his face with water, how she stroked his head as she hugged him to her breasts, mumbling in despair that he was a fool, something warm and soft enveloped them.

He fell asleep, recognising that this was what heaven must have been like.

When he woke up he felt everything around him spinning − he muttered in displeasure, another cramp squeezing his stomach.

He pulled himself up, in the dark looking for the toilet, at the last moment leaning over it and vomited again, panting loudly, everything around him blurred, it seemed to him that it was morning.

He heard movement beside him − someone's hand touched his back and stroked him with a gentle, affectionate gesture as convulsion again shook his body, which was trying with all its might to rid itself of what he had swallowed the day before.

Nothing more than a mumble left his mouth, his head drooped involuntarily − he felt someone pull him back to keep him from sliding down onto the tiles. He lay down, something soft enveloped him again.

"− it's okay − sleep −" He heard her whisper and thought that the pills he had taken were causing him to hallucinate, that he was probably dreaming it all, and since he was and she wasn't really there he could embrace her, his arm grabbed her waist, his face snuggled between her breasts again with his loud purr of contentment and exhaustion.

He felt her hands embrace him, stroking his head and back − he thought, feeling the hard floor beneath him, that they were lying in the bathroom and she must have brought the duvet and pillows from his bedroom, sleeping in that room with him.

He fell asleep and woke up hearing someone walking around his house, once in a while someone touched his head − he heard her voice asking him some questions that he was unable to focus on − she was only answered by his frustrated sounds indicating that he just wanted to sleep on.

Finally when he opened his eyes he managed to see anything − the bathroom door was open, the light in the room was off. He had a perfect view of the corridor and part of the living room lit up in the sun − he heard someone's footsteps, his heart jumped into his throat when he saw her silhouette in the doorway.

"− hey − hey, how are you feeling? −" She muttered walking up to him and kneeling beside him, her loose hair in a slight disarray, she was wearing shorts and a plain white Tshirt. He looked away from her breasts when he noticed she wasn't wearing a bra, swallowing hard.

He didn't reply, feeling an overwhelming sense of shame, remembering what he had done, how disgusting and selfish he had acted, that he had forced her to help him again despite having caused her such harm.

"− I − I would like to talk to some therapist −" He choked out with tears in his eyes, not looking at her but somewhere in front of him, his breathing shallow and uneven − it seemed to him as if his lungs had completely clenched.

"− alright − alright, I'll look for someone nearby − okay? −" She asked tentatively and he just nodded, unable to look her in the eye. He heard her get up quickly, and a moment later she was back, sitting down next to him with her phone in her hand, typing something quickly on her screen, apparently scrolling through the accounts of doctors who had offices in the same town.

"− there's a Dr Smith, he's got a free appointment in two days at one o'clock in the afternoon, or a Dr Morgan, but he… −"

"− anyone − as soon as possible −" He said dispassionately, looking blankly ahead, heard her swallow hard and click something quickly, heard his phone vibrate beside him on the floor.

"− I've booked you an appointment and sent you details via message −" She mumbled, and he nodded.

"− thank you − you can −"

"− I spoke to your sister on the phone while you were asleep and told her everything − we agreed that Daeron will stay with her and I'll watch over you until your first appointment −" She said coldly with some kind of regret from which he felt a squeeze in his throat. He pressed his lips together, feeling his body tremble and closed his eyes, wanting to just disappear.

He shuddered, looking at her in disbelief as she slipped her purple scarf out of the pocket of her tracksuit shorts, the same one he'd found on the floor and kept. She tied her hair with it, combing it into a ponytail, staring straight into his eyes.

"I found this on your couch. Did you think of me before you did it?" She asked, with soft, sure flicks of her fingers arranging her curls as she saw fit. He swallowed hard at her question, feeling a burning sense of embarrassment.

"− yes −" He sighed. She let out a quiet breath at his words, placing her hands on her thighs.

"− are you able to get up? −"

With her help he managed to rise with difficulty − he brushed his teeth feeling the still disgusting taste of vomit and acid on his tongue and then lay down on the sofa, grabbing his head. He watched her silhouetted in the kitchen as she opened the cupboards one by one until she found his first aid kit.

He saw her throw away all the packets of sleeping pills he had.

"− hey −" He threw to her wrinkling his eyebrows, knowing he wouldn't be able to sleep a wink without them.

"− you'd better not speak −" She said warningly, without giving him a single glance, so he gave in, sighing heavily and closing his eyes, figuring there was no point in arguing.

To his surprise she moved around the rooms as if this was her home, sat down next to him at the other end of the sofa with an apple in her hand and turned on the TV as if nothing had happened. He looked at her, wondering if she was really going to sit here for days, but then decided it didn't matter.

When he finally got the phone call from Helaena he listened to almost half an hour of a litany from her about how irresponsible and selfish he was, only to hear a moment later that she loved him very much and that he needed to start taking care of himself − he assured her several times that he already had an appointment with a therapist, and Esmeralda wouldn't leave his side.

"− is that what you call me? −" She asked quietly after he had hung up, looking at the TV screen on which the news had just been airing. He looked at her surprised, realising that it wasn't actually her real name after all.

"− yes −" He replied lowly, playing with his phone between his fingers.

They didn't talk much to each other apart from the usual basic politeness. After a couple of hours he felt well enough to get up − he was still dizzy and still had no appetite, but he drank plenty of water and thought with relief that the danger had passed.

Evening finally fell and, tired after all that had happened, he simply headed upstairs to his bedroom, wanting to give her some solitude and privacy.

Changing into his pyjamas, which consisted of a simple t-shirt and black tracksuit bottoms, he shuddered and looked in disbelief at the door to his room when it opened, her figure stepping inside as if nothing had happened, climbing on his bed, lying under his duvet, turning her back to him.

What?

He pressed his lips together, wondering if he should say something or not, but in the end he couldn't resist.

"What are you doing?"

"I want to sleep. I'm tired. Could you turn out the light?" She asked quietly.

He grunted and, as she requested, walked over to the switch, flicking it, complete darkness fell all around them.

The thought that she was going to sleep in the same bed with him, even if only to keep an eye on him, made him instantly hard.

He lay down at a safer distance behind her, looking at her back and neck, knowing that she could feel his breath, but not daring to touch her.

He wondered if she was punishing him this way, showing him that she was at his fingertips, but after what he had done there was nothing else he could do but watch.

It would have been enough for him if he could have just jerked off looking at her, concentrating on her scent and the fact that she was next to him, but he felt he had no right to bring himself relief after all of this.

He didn't deserve it.

That's why he was just dying in agony, writhing − without his pills despite his fatigue he could not fall asleep, on top of that he was too aroused, her closeness was driving him crazy.

"− will you stop squirming? − I can't sleep −" She muttered at last, raising herself up on her elbow, looking at him with furrowed brows.

He felt his lips part involuntarily in desire at the sight of her face, at the thought that she didn't have a bra under her shirt, that there were her lovely breasts under that material that he could caress all night.

"− sorry −" He just choked out, trying to calm his breathing, his cock pulsed painfully swollen under the material of his sweatpants.

He made big eyes and flinched, embarrassed as she pushed back the duvet that covered them both, her gaze going to his trousers and what was going on inside them.

A tense silence fell between them − he could feel his whole body quivering with desire, grief and shame.

He wondered if she would mock his state and his desperation.

"− we can do it if you want − like civilised people − I'd like to experience some sleep tonight −" She said softly and he looked at her in disbelief, the bulge in his sweatpants twitched hard at her words.

"− are you sure? − I wouldn't −"

"− make me feel good −" She said quietly.

He drew in the air loudly as she said this, grabbing the material of her t-shirt and lifting it, pulling it over her head, revealing her lovely breasts to him.

She sighed loudly when his face immediately pressed against her nipple, alternately sucking and licking it with the tip of his tongue, his fingers digging into the soft skin of her back. She moaned quietly, surprised when he pulled her to him, her palms sliding into his hair, holding him close.

They lay on their sides, embracing each other in a tight grasp. He wriggled in disbelief and delight, willing and eager to show her how much he regretted it, how much he desired her, how much he loved her − his hand grasped tentatively her other breast, kneading it with his fingers.

"− so soft −" He gasped, listening to her quiet sighs of pleasure. He felt her throw her leg against his waist, which he grasped confidently, clenching his fingers on her thigh and pulled her closer, letting her feel how much he wanted her, his manhood throbbed impatiently beneath his trousers, hitting her stomach.

"− how −" He asked between flicks of his tongue licking and sucking her hard, puffy nipple like a little child, stroking the soft skin of her hips. He slipped his hand under the material of her shorts, tracing his fingertips over her plump buttocks, wanting to be sure that this time he would do everything the way she needed it, give her pleasure and reassurance, at the pace and the way she wanted it.

She stroked his hair at his question and placed a short, warm kiss on his forehead − he murmured lowly as he felt her begin to rub against him, encouraging him to do the same, his lips letting go of her nipple with a loud plop to look at her.

"− you on top − but touch me down there first −" She whispered embarrassedly, turning onto her back, pulling his arm behind her, looking at him with a gaze hot with desire and affection.

He leaned in, letting his swollen lips brush hers, which responded immediately to his caress, her fingers cupping his neck, deepening the kiss.

"− mmm −" She hummed, squirming beneath him. He ran his hand down her body, in a tentative, unhurried motion slipping his hand under the material of her shorts, wanting to give her time to react, but she sensing this spread her thighs wider, easing his access, his fingers finally running over her swollen, hot, wet womanhood.

"− God, little one − I want to use my mouth here −" He gasped appreciatively, thinking only of the fact that he had been dreaming of this for weeks. He smiled involuntarily when he saw her nod quickly, her sweet, full lips parted in an accelerated breath.

"− okay −" She whispered quietly, letting him slide the material of her shorts and underwear off her − he marvelled at the sight of her naked body, thinking with some kind of emotion that he felt like crying.

"− so beautiful −" He whispered, placing a gentle kiss on her stomach, on her womb, on her hip, on her thigh, knee and calf. He looked at her and noticed that she was watching him intently, her breasts rising and falling in uneven breaths, her hands on either side of her head.

"− come here −" He murmured softly, in a gentle motion pushing her hips closer to him, spreading them in front of him − he heard her gasp loudly as he leaned over her bared flesh. He let his hot breath envelop her skin before his nose ran over her hot, soft womanhood, his lips lazily clinging to her folds, placing a lingering, sticky kiss on them.

He tightened his hands on her thighs when he felt her throw her head back with a sweet, surprised moan, her fingers traveling to his short hair, stroking it in impatient motion, pressing his face close to her body.

"− please −" She mumbled, and he huffed with amusement, trailing his lips up to her puffy clit, sliding then down to her leaking, swollen slit, teasing her barely, not giving her what she needed.

"− no − we're going to do this very, very slowly − with due respect to you −" He hummed contentedly, feeling some kind of pride that he could do it this way, could give it to her and be what she needed.

She whimpered softly, writhing before him, her breathing quickened and shuddered, her body trembling in his hands, thirsting for fulfilment.

"− don't be cruel −" She mumbled resentfully, as if she thought he was teasing and taunting her. He sighed quietly, placing a warm, hot kiss on her sticky skin − a surprised, loud moan escaped her lips as the tip of his tongue suddenly forced its way inside her, deeper and deeper with each stroke, imposing an intense, fast pace on her.

"− o-oh fuck, yes, lick me −" She mewled, clenching her fingers in his hair, bucking her hips against his face, trying to find a more intense source of rubbing. He smirked under his breath as he discovered after a moment between her fleshy muscles the spot he was looking for, her whines increasingly pathetic and helpless, her walls beginning to throb around his tongue.

He heard her whimper his name, her whole body tensed as if she was trying to break away from him, but he didn't stop, letting her come on his face.

He purred contentedly as he felt how much of her moisture flowed out of her tight entrance, determined to make sure he licked every drop and not let anything go to waste despite her cries.

He surprised her when he didn't pull away, but repeated all the steps from the beginning, slowing his pace again, merely teasing her with his lips, her body twitching at his every move, overstimulated and delicate.

"− n-no more − I want you inside me −" She mumbled softly, and he looked up at her, licking his lips with his tongue, feeling her words in his trousers.

Even though he planned to spend the whole night between her thighs, he couldn't refuse such a request.

"− it's okay − there you go −" He hummed, rising to his knees, slipping his sweatpants down just enough to release his swollen, hard erection leaking from his precum. He placed one hand next to her head, the other guiding the fat, pink head of his cock between her widely spread thighs.

"− such a good girl − hm? − my sweet little baby, am I right? −" He cooed and she nodded quickly, looking at him with big eyes hazed with desire − it seemed to him that she didn't recognise him, that she didn't believe he was the same man she had met then.

He didn't believe it himself, but it felt wonderful.

They both sighed loudly when, with one slow thrust, he opened her wide on his swollen length, leaning over her, pressing his forehead to hers, her trembling hand rising to stroke his cheek, her lips pressed to his in a warm, innocent kiss.

He murmured contentedly, forcing her to fit all of him inside her with an impatient thrust of his hips − he heard her quiet cry of discomfort and surprise and swallowed loudly feeling his manhood pulsing intensely inside her, so hungry for her closeness.

She closed his waist between her legs, crossing them over his back, and he lay on top of her, pulling his t-shirt off quickly, resting his weight on his elbows to keep from crushing her, feeling her little, puffy nipples on his naked chest.

She sighed sweetly, looking up at him dreamily, trailing her fingers down his face and neck as he slipped out of her only to sink into her again a moment later with a loud click of her moisture − she was all wet and warm inside after her intense orgasm, her muscles squeezing him wonderfully from all sides.

"− that's it − just like that - it's okay −" He whispered tenderly, letting himself sink into the taste of her sticky, plump lips again, her hands trailing down his sweaty, muscled back as he involuntarily sped up his pace, pressing his nose to her cheek, slamming into her with more and more sure, brutal thrusts of his hips, groaning low along with her.

"− oh, fuck, baby −" He gasped, listening to her moans of pleasure, her insides wonderfully warm and tight, quivering all over in sensation, soaking him wet. He began to root aggressively into her weeping cunt panting hard, all around them only the loud sound of their moist, naked bodies slapping quickly against each other.

"− please − please − please −" She mumbled out looking up at him with her mouth wide open, digging her fingers into the hot skin of his back − he could feel her walls clench around him tighter, sucking him inside. He shuddered hard at her words, focusing now only on rooting again and again into her warm, fleshy interior.

"− I don't know if I'm going to let you sleep tonight − I think I'd rather do this with you instead −" He breathed out into her mouth, pushing his tongue deep into her throat − he felt her body shake as she convulsed, her hands clenched painfully hard on his body as she came a second time with sweet mewl of effort, panting loudly as if she couldn't catch her breath, her muscles began to throb greedily around his cock, sucking him inside.

He tilted his head back and sighed in relief, a few sloppy, rough thrusts prolonging the inevitable − his warm cum spilled deep inside her, a hot wave of pleasure surging through his lungs.

He crushed her with his body, feeling their bodies quivering and twitching all over, both of them panting hard as if they had run a marathon, their hands running blindly over each other's naked skin as if they wanted to calm and soothe each other.

"− I love you −" He muttered, lying with his eyes closed, his nose snuggled into her hot, soft cheek. "− you know that, don't you? −"

"− yes −" She answered him quietly, and he sighed heavily, snuggling into her like a small child.

That much was enough for him.

He didn't expect anything from her.

He just wanted her to know it.

He spent that night as if in a frenzy, holding her close, embracing her from behind tightly with his arms, their legs entwined together in disarray. He fell asleep with his face pressed against her hair, completely overwhelmed by her wonderful scent, the warmth of her naked body, one of her hands placed on his making sure he didn't let go of her soft breasts.

They hadn't said much to each other after they awoke − when he turned her face towards him and he just sank into her swollen lips in a sticky, hot kiss. She purred sleepily at this caress, her fingertips running over his jaw.

She let him take her a second time then, from behind this time − she was so wet from their shared moisture that he slid into her without much difficulty, stretching her wonderfully tight walls with a sigh of delight.

He rooted into her with lazy, slow thrusts of his hips, making sure that each time the fat head of his cock rubbed her sweet spot, one of his hands playing with her puffy, little nipple, the other sunk deep between her thighs, teasing her swollen clit.

"− do you want me to stop? −" He whispered in her ear, and she shook her head, digging her fingers into his arm with which he embraced her at the waist.

"− n-no − it feels good −" She muttered in embarrassment − he kissed her hot cheek with a sticky click of his saliva seeing her lips parted in accelerated breath, her dreamy, warm gaze.

"− so I'm afraid I'm going to fill you a second time, sweet girl −" He hummed, running the tip of his nose over her pretty face. She moaned quietly at his words, feeling him suddenly speed up, slamming into her with more confident, brutal pushes − she tilted her head back, his lips immediately pressed against her neck.

"− d-don't − don't leave marks −" She mumbled out, quickly clenching her hand in his hair − she whimpered softly as she felt his fingertips dig harder into her fleshy folds.

"− I won't, baby − shhh −" He hushed her, running his lust-swollen lips over her soft skin, feeling her weeping walls squeeze him greedily at his words, forcing him to thrust into her more aggressively, his fingers sinking into her plushy thigh, holding her in place, panting along with her.

"− ah, G-God − She babbled, responding helplessly to his movements with rocking, both of them groaning in pleasure and relief as her muscles began to clench against him in a sudden orgasm, his thighs all sticky with her wetness.

"− yes, that's it − oh baby −" He muttered, letting go, with the last of his strength thrusting into her for a moment more before his seed filled her to the brim.

He hid the tip of his nose in her hair with his eyes closed, panting loudly with pleasure, holding firmly her body trembling in fulfilment in the tight embrace of his arms.

"− can I stay inside you? −" He whispered into her ear and she only nodded, falling into slumber again a moment later.

For the first time in many years he didn't have to get up at dawn, he didn't have to focus on work, on Daeron, on anyone or anything more than himself and her.

He couldn't believe it was really happening.

He lay thinking only of the fact that he was deep inside her, that he could feel her and smell her − he placed one of his hands over her heart wanting to feel how it beat, how her chest rose and fell in calm breaths.

The days before his appointment with the psychiatrist he had spent between her thighs.

She walked around his house wearing nothing but his T-shirt and it was enough for him standing behind her to lift its fabric a little to see her lovely, plump buttocks.

"− stop − we need to eat something −" She muttered as he knelt on the kitchen tiles while she was trying to prepare dinner for them, so that he could kiss her hot, soft skin with a murmur of satisfaction. His hand slipped lower, between her thighs, his fingertips collecting her moisture mingled with his semen, a reminder of what he had been doing to her all day.

"− I adore you −" He gasped, sliding his lips lower, placing warm, sticky kisses on her thighs and calves, he heard her quiet sigh.

"− does your friend know that you have a second lover? −" She asked quietly, and he froze, quickly lifting his gaze to her, understanding immediately that she was talking about Alys.

He didn't want to make a mistake and lie, but he also didn't know how to present it so she would know that it was a done deal for him.

"− I stopped seeing her after what happened between us −" He said softly getting up from his knees, looking down at her, putting an unruly lock of her dark hair behind her ear. "− I didn't see the point in it, because all I was thinking about was you −"

He confessed with a kind of pain and weariness, and she lifted her gaze to him, her bright eyes looked at him piercingly, warm and gentle. He leaned in placing a long, drawn-out kiss on her forehead.

She snuggled into his chest as if seeking refuge, and he embraced her kissing the top of her head devotedly, running his large hands down her back in a reassuring, tender gesture.

"− I can't promise you anything −" She said at last, and he swallowed hard, knowing what she meant.

"− I know − I don't expect it −" He whispered, cuddling his face into her fragrant hair, closing his eyes, her closeness and her scent calming him in some strange, incomprehensible way.

"− I will always wait for you −"

_____

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