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Sleek and Modern: Designing a Contemporary Kitchen Renovation

The clean lines and neutral color schemes that characterize contemporary kitchen design provide the perfect backdrop for experimenting with accent colors and unique or unexpected details. For example, this kitchen in Melbourne features warm yellow-green cabinets that contrast beautifully with the wood countertops and island.

Open shelves are a great place to store cookbooks, dishes, and mugs. You can even display your heirloom ceramic collection for a stylish touch.

Enhance the Overall Aesthetic

Modern kitchen designs feature flat-front cabinetry, sleek fixtures, sophisticated color schemes, and elegant features. They offer a distinct look that will remain stylish over time.

Contemporary design often incorporates natural materials, simple color schemes, and monochromatic tones to create an elegant appearance. This style is the perfect option for homeowners who want to add a sophisticated and refined feel to their home.

Slab doors, a quartz waterfall countertop and backsplash, and a stainless-steel range hood all help this bright cooking space by Idea Space feel completely contemporary. Neutral colors and a white backdrop help the eye focus on the stunning accents and details throughout the room.

Decorative accents like this black sculpture and table lamp are what make this open-concept kitchen by Ban Architecture so memorable. The contrast with the light kitchen and dining spaces is striking and creates a truly elegant impression. Adding a beverage/wet bar nook also helps the kitchen become part of a functional and cohesive living area.

Create a Stylish Ambiance

Contemporary kitchens feature sleek, modern elements that create a stylish look that is timeless. While this design style has specific characteristics that distinguish it from other designs, you still have a lot of options to personalize your kitchen renovation and make it uniquely yours.

Slab-style cabinet doors are a staple of contemporary kitchens because they provide a smooth, uniform appearance. This design element makes it easy for other elements to stand out, like metal hardware or a patterned backsplash.

Beautiful wood materials often combine with slab-style cabinets to add a natural feel to the kitchen. You’ll also find a lot of geometric patterns in this style, which helps keep the kitchen fresh and trendy. You can also introduce texture by mixing in natural or manufactured materials, such as glass, concrete, slate, marble and stainless steel, with your custom cabinetry. These contrasting accents bring out the best in your kitchen’s contemporary aesthetic. They’re a great way to show off your personality without overshadowing the rest of the room.

Reflect Your Modern Lifestyle

In modern life, few rooms are as multifunctional as the kitchen. A contemporary design can help you juggle work and home life by providing a stylish and convenient place to prepare meals and entertain guests.

Like other modern styles, contemporary designs can incorporate natural and manufactured materials. Slab-style cabinet doors, for example, contribute to a clean appearance and allow other details—such as metallic hardware or a patterned backsplash—to shine. Open shelving can also offer a similar look and add visual interest to the room.

In this contemporary cooking space by Idea Space, a stainless steel range hood and open shelves deliver sleek appeal, while soapstone countertops and warm wood tones create a family-friendly vibe. The homeowners removed an awkward peninsula and reoriented the layout to better accommodate appliances, improve flow and deliver a more spacious working area. This remodel helped turn this once cramped kitchen into a multifunctional gathering spot for family and friends. The homeowners also used a dark gray paint to accentuate the ceiling, which helps brighten the entire room.

Create a Functional Space

Modern design is characterized by sleek, minimalistic features. It emphasizes man-made materials and lacks decorative elements like molding and trim. Instead, natural materials like stone, wood, and glass are often used to complement contemporary kitchen makeovers.

Flat-front cabinetry, sleek fixtures, and stone or wood accents all characterize this kitchen style. Engineered quartz, a popular countertop material that can mimic the appearance of various types of natural stones, is also a contemporary choice.

The modern concept of work zones — placing items used together in close proximity to one another for ease of access — is also an effective way to create a functional kitchen layout. Ensure your new kitchen is optimized for your lifestyle and family’s needs by carefully planning its layout. A professional designer can help you make the most of your kitchen’s dimensions and space.

Metro Vancouver’s Premier Kitchen and Bath Renovation Company

The kitchen is often the heart of the home, so it makes sense that it would play such an integral role in your house’s overall look and feel. It’s also a space that people spend a significant amount of time in, so it must look its absolute best. That’s why Vancouver Kitchen Renovation is proud to offer Kitchen Design and Renovations in Vancouver, BC. We believe that a well-designed kitchen can transform the way you live, and we’re committed to helping you create the perfect space for yourself and your family. Whether you’re interested in updating your existing kitchen or building a brand new one, we can help you achieve your dream kitchen. We’ll listen carefully to your ideas and preferences, and together we’ll figure out which options will work best for you. Once we’ve determined what you’d like to see in your new kitchen, we’ll put together a detailed proposal outlining everything we propose, including a breakdown of the estimated budget and timeline. If you decide to move forward with our proposal, we’ll begin working immediately to bring your vision to life.

We understand that to be successful is to stay ahead of the curve. That means staying current with the latest technology and design trends. We always want to improve our products or services without breaking the bank. That’s why we stay connected to the latest technologies of NKBA, National Kitchen and Bath Association. In addition, at Vancouver Kitchen renovation, our primary focus is providing sustainable kitchen design and renovation packages, and we believe in sustainable living. Sustainable living is a way of life in harmony with nature. It is a lifestyle which focuses on the preservation of our environment. Sustainable living is a philosophy emphasizing respect for the environment and concern for its well-being. This means we should take care of the planet and treat it as if it were our home. We should try to preserve what we have and protect it from destruction. If we do this, we will enjoy the benefits of the earth’s resources for many generations. Whether you’re planning a major remodel or adding finishing touches to your current kitchen, we’d love to discuss your project. Book your showroom consultation online.

Main Areas of Service in British Columbia:

Vancouver

North Vancouver

West Vancouver

Burnaby

Coquitlam

Squamish

Whistler

Frequently Asked Questions

What are some of the cons of an open concept kitchen?

Privacy is the greatest concern. You can’t hide your mess from guests when you have an open-concept cooking area. Also, if you love to cook, the smells might bother people in other Often, there isn’t enough counter space or storage space to accommodate everything. An open kitchen is difficult to keep clean, especially if you don’t have an area for cooking and eating. Lastly, an open-concept kitchen may not be your best option if you don’t have much square footage.

What is the costliest part of a Kitchen Remodel?

Since the price of a kitchen will vary depending on the project, there’s no one right answer. Experts estimate that a high-end kitchen remodel will cost anywhere from $40,000 to $100,000. If you’re looking to remodel your kitchen, expect to pay a high price. If you don’t make any structural changes, often custom cabinetry will be the most expensive component of your kitchen remodeling project.

Your custom cabinets compromise 25-35% of the total cost. Flooring, countertops, and appliances are all high-ticket items. You might need to prioritize which parts of your kitchen you would like to replace if you have a limited budget. But, with careful planning, it is possible to get a luxurious kitchen without breaking the bank.

There are still ways to save money. It is possible to make cosmetic changes, rather than structural ones. One example is to refinish cabinets, or install new countertops, instead of replacing the entire kitchen. To save on labour costs, consider doing some of the work yourself if your project is larger.

No matter your budget, there are ways to make your kitchen remodel more affordable. By being strategic in your choices and planning, you can have the kitchen of your dreams while still saving money.

Are open-concept kitchens going out of style?

Because they are modern and easy to use, open-concept kitchens remain popular. For many reasons, homeowners are returning to traditional kitchen designs.

One reason is that an open-concept kitchen can be pretty noisy. Open-concept kitchens can be difficult to clean due to all the cooking fumes and dust that circulate throughout the house.

Families who like to cook together love open-plan kitchens. But they can also be a nightmare if you have kids that like to play in the kitchen and don’t always listen to their parents! Before you make a decision about an open-concept kitchen design, weigh all the pros and cons.

Do you place flooring under your kitchen appliances?

Flooring should be placed under all kitchen appliances. You can ensure that your countertop is at the correct height.

What’s the best way to renovate a kitchen?

The plumbing and electrical rough ins

Drywalling

Painting

Kitchen cabinet installation

Flooring installation

Countertop installation

Backsplash installation

Appliances

Are white kitchens out of style?

White kitchens are already popular among homeowners who want to create a modern look for their homes. Since 1980s designers started using white appliances and kitchen cabinets. Today, white kitchens are still one of the hottest trends in interior design.

Experts think the all-white kitchen trend may be over, and homeowners are looking for something more. Although white kitchens remain popular, more people are interested in brighter kitchens.

It’s not likely that a white kitchen will go out of fashion anytime soon if you’re thinking about installing it in your home. You should remember that trends can change, so you might consider a more timeless design for those who plan to stay in their home for many years.

What makes a kitchen backsplash timeless?

A subway tile backsplash is timeless. A full-height backsplash is recommended for kitchens. That would mean running the countertop as your backsplash up to the bottom of your upper cabinets. This creates the illusion of a larger kitchen.

Statistics

In the Pacific region (Alaska, California, Washington, and Oregon), according to Remodeling Magazine, that same midrange central kitchen remodel jumps to $72,513, and a major upscale kitchen remodels jumps up $11,823 from the national average to $143,333. (hgtv.com)

Your most significant cost investment for a kitchen remodel will usually be cabinets, typically comprising 25 percent of your budget. (hgtv.com)

Followed by cabinet cost, labour, and appliance costs consume 20 percent each of your budget. (hgtv.com)

In large firms, the commission charged by the GC ranges from 15 to 25 percent of the total job cost. (thespruce.com)

“We decided to strip and refinish our kitchen cabinets during a heat wave with 90-plus-degree temperatures and 90 percent humidity in a house with no air conditioning. (familyhandyman.com)

External Links

thespruce.com

Open Floor Plan History, Pros, and Cons

Find Professionals to Estimate Kitchen Remodeling Prices

hgtv.com

Choosing Kitchen Appliances | HGTV

HGTV

homeguide.com

2022 Kitchen Remodel Cost Estimator

2022 Home Addition Costs

forbes.com

Amazing Kitchen Remodel Ideas that Will Refresh Your House

How To

These are the 8 Essential Steps for Kitchen Remodeling Beginners:

A DFY project for Beginners should start with these steps:

Remodeling your kitchen is as easy as three steps. The first step is to decide if you want to completely renovate your kitchen or replace existing fixtures and appliances. Second, choose the type of kitchen that best suits you and your lifestyle. Third, you can decide whether to hire professionals for the job or DIY it.

Next, decide what type of kitchen you want. Do you want a traditional, open-plan kitchen with cabinets countertops and appliances or a modern one? You might prefer modern designs with minimal storage and clean lines. Are you interested in installing a large island or adding a breakfast bar? You will also need to hire an experienced contractor to assist you with the installation after you have selected a layout, finish and material.

The heart of any home is the kitchen, but homeowners often feel overwhelmed by how many decisions they need to make before beginning a project. There are many easy ways to start.

Decide if You Want to Renovate or Replace – The first step is to determine whether you want to complete a kitchen renovation or replace some of the appliances and fixtures. You’ll need to calculate the cost of demolition and new cabinets, countertops and flooring if you intend to renovate the space.

You Need to Calculate Your Budget. This includes everything including labor costs, supplies, and the budget.

Choose your Layout – Once you’ve decided how much you can afford, the next step will be to choose where you want to install your new kitchen. There are many layout options, including open-concept, peninsula, galley and corner. Each layout has its own pros and cons so it is important to choose the one that suits your needs.

Select your Materials – After you have chosen the layout for your kitchen, it is time to pick materials. This includes everything, including countertops and cabinets as well as flooring and lighting. There are many options so it is crucial to research and find the material that suits your needs.

Hire professionals – Once your materials have been selected, you will want to hire a professional who is experienced in kitchen construction. A professional contractor will ensure that everything goes smoothly from design through to installation. You won’t have to worry about any issues during the project.

Enjoy! You’ve reached the final phase of the kitchen remodel. Enjoy! You won’t mind spending hours in your new kitchen cooking delicious meals if you love it. If you are still not sure, take the time to test out your new kitchen. This will help you decide if the remodel was worthwhile.

Helpful Resources:

35 Best Outdoor Kitchen Ideas | Kitchen Design 2023 | Kitchen Cabinet Design | Kitchen Design Ideas

Outdoor kitchen design ideas 2023. #kitchendesign2023 #kitchendesignideas #kitchendesign #kitchendesign #kitchenideas

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eyesofophelia · 4 years ago

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surrender || aizawa x reader || sloth

➼ chapter six of fern’s dante’s inferno collab: sloth ➼ masterlist for collab! ➼ banner credit: @sightoru ➼ word count: 5.3k even ➼ warnings: dark content, noncon, self doubt, death, guilt.

‘thou seest how sloth wastes the sluggish body, as water is corrupted unless it moves.’

struggling gears groaned against their rusted neighbors and rattled through the elevator shaft. you had thought that you would have been immune to the sound by now, but each screeching grind of metal pierced through your eardrums and sent shudders down the length of your spine. not only did you wrap your arms around yourself to quell your fearful tremors but to find some sort of warmth. the farther down you went, the colder and colder it became. the creaking elevator was beginning to seem more and more like your designated spot in the mortuary cabinet rather than your transport. at least you were not alone, although, you may as well be.

your companion was not ideal.

you couldn’t tell whether or not sir nighteye was a comforting presence or a chilling one. his tepid demeanor unsettled you while still bringing you some sense of relief.

so lost between the flashing images of your previous encounters and the fear of those that have yet to come, you hadn’t noticed the slowing of the elevator until it came to that familiar albeit jolting stop. it bounced for a moment, each vibration sent through you acting as an ominous countdown. dread bubbled deep within your core, threatening to release the bile just waiting to come up. what were you to expect? you were triumphant in the prior circles, but your ‘victories’ thus far felt hollow at best. while physically you had escaped each circle, you couldn’t help but feel that bits and pieces of your soul had been left behind along the way.

finally, the elevator’s motion slowed to a stop. you swallowed hard, balling your fingers into fists against your sweating palms. trying to center yourself, you forced your focus onto sir nighteye’s voice as he began to speak. “this,” a long, skinny finger gestured to the glowing red six above the elevator door, “is sloth. you must remain vigilant here. whatever you do, you must not give in.”

his words were almost as chilling as the shrill screech of the elevator doors parting ways.

“oh, and,” that ominous glower appeared in his eyes once more, “good luck.”

you turned over your shoulder some, feeling the resolve you had tried so desperately to build crumbling away now that the doors were open. with a deep breath in, you willed yourself to move forward into the darkness.

remain vigilant.

you scoffed internally at his words. easier said than done. the least he could do was give you some sort of help. he was the one that had gotten you into this mess in the first place, right? he should have just left you in those woods, you could have figured out--

you stopped dead in your tracks as you started to take notice of your surroundings. fluorescent lights hung from the ceiling, some of which were shattered while the rest flickered and buzzed. a wall of broken windows laid to your right with only a vast darkness behind them. it was abysmal. in the reflection of the shattered panes, you saw the image of yourself scattered within jagged pieces. for a moment, you could have sworn you saw someone standing behind you but found no one when you turned.

looking around once more, you continued on down the hallway, keeping an eye on the doors to see if there was anyone around. each door was marked with letters and numbers. you couldn’t help but be reminded of a school with each room that you passed. the further down the hall you went, the heavier the air felt. goosebumps infected your body and made every hair stand up on end. even your legs were beginning to feel weighted, as if they were starting to sink down into the floor with every step.

you must not give in. sir nighteye’s words pushed you to persevere against the gut instinct telling you to turn back. you had already come this far, you couldn’t stop now. to stop now would mean that every trial and tribulation you had faced already would be all for naught. you had to get to your mom. if she was somewhere in this place, past all these damned circles, you would find her and take her home.

your thoughts were halted by the sound of footsteps behind you. whipping around, your eyes searched frantically through the flickering lights to find whoever may have been following.

it was empty, save for the shattered glass and crumpled papers littering the floor. the pounding of your heart within your chest was deafening, but you tried to swallow it down with the lump in your throat. you just couldn’t shake the feeling that someone or something was watching you. a malevolent, foreboding presence. having to resist the instinct to call out for whoever--or whatever--was shadowing you, you started to turn before you heard more footsteps coming towards you down the hall. they sounded close, too close to not be able to see the source, but the hall still remained empty. panic gripped your core and forced you into flight. your eyes just barely caught the chipped, red markings on the wooden door as you pushed your way into the classroom closest to you.

1-A.

muttered curses spat past your lips as you practically flung yourself over a desk after barreling into the room. it slid across the linoleum with a jarring screech, causing you to wince both in pain and with fear that you had definitely given away your location. your body lay frozen, heaped over the desk in tense anticipation for the sound of the door opening. frantically your gaze tried to adjust to the dark, only having the light coming through the window in the door to illuminate the room.

it was definitely a classroom. desks were scattered all around in some sort of disarray. some of them were broken and laying in pieces while others were still assembled and in their rightful places. you slowly pushed yourself up from the almost toppled desk, subconsciously brushing the dust and dirt from your front. for now, you felt as though the danger had passed. no longer did you hear the phantom footsteps, only the familiar buzzing of the lights outside of the classroom. with a sigh, you turned to leave.

as you turned to step towards the door, you froze in place. a strange ruffling sound started from the corner of the room. cold sweat formed on your back as the sound just seemed to get louder. as you got the courage to turn around, your knees started to buckle. a tall, looming figure was slowly emerging from a yellow cocoon. a mass of inky dark hair shrouded his face from you. you squinted in the dark to make out whatever details you could, but jolted back when his gaze suddenly pierced through your own. it was glowering and red, baring down at you like the famished glare of a wolf. the thick locks of hair started to stand on end, giving him a much more malevolent appearance as he remained half hunched in the corner. a straight row of glimmering teeth were bared to you in a menacing smile, causing you to gasp and turn to make your way to the door. again, sir nighteye’s message rang through your mind:

remain vigilant.

a material that was both metallic and malleable shot forth from the darkness behind you, wrapping around your ankle and dragging you back. you cried out as you fell hard into one of the desk chairs, struggling to see what had pulled you down through the darkness. your eye finally caught something, trailing it back to the figure encroaching on you as he stepped fully from the yellow sack.

eyes like embers pierced through you, anchoring you to the spot. you hadn’t noticed it in the corner before, but you cursed yourself for not looking more carefully. as he stepped forward, you felt your breath hitch within your throat, fingernails biting down into the wooden desk surface. your mind screamed for your muscles to move. internally, it begged for you to run or hide away, but the closer he came, the more you sunk down into the chair.

you must not give in.

“so, you’re the one he sent.”

deep, gruff voice filled your ears and sent a shiver down your spine. it was flat and lifeless, but still holding the same baleful aura that radiated from him. it felt as though there was no effort behind his words, no emotion. just a cold, detached voice that glued you to the seat beneath you. as he stepped forward, you noticed his hands in his pockets. he was wearing some sort of dark jumpsuit that hung loosely around his form with a long, coiled material around his neck. it was stretched out on one end, leading down to your ankle.

he pulled me down with that? you thought, blinking up at him with parted lips. though you wished to speak, your throat was closed up in fear. he seemed familiar somehow, as if you had seen him before, but you were unable to place it. all you could do was stare at him, which only seemed to displease him further. the grip around your ankle tightened enough to make you wince, watching as he moved to stand just in front of you.

“why are you here?”

subtle disgust laced his tone, watching a very slight sneer form over his face. suddenly, the room came to life. a low buzzing hum started from above you both before the fluorescent lights flickered on. you squinted through it, blinking to try and adjust your vision to the sudden change. a hand raised instinctively to block your eyes, peering through the slits in your fingers to the man that had appeared from the once shadowy corner. now, you could make out the golden sleeping bag slumped against the walls, laying unzipped and deflated.

your attention was snapped back to him as he stepped directly into your line of vision. you could get a good look at him now, noting the way his long dark hair fell back down around his scruffy face. there was a scar beneath his eye, both of which were now just as dark as the vacant space outside of the windows in the hall. like a blackhole, you felt yourself getting sucked into the intensity of his stare. somehow, you finally managed to break away from his magnetism and force the words from your lips.

“i need...to find my mom.”

he noted your hesitation, something resembling disappointment reflecting in his eyes. for what felt like an eternity, he stared down at you, as if daring you to try and move. even if you wanted to, you weren’t sure that you could. the longer you held his gaze, the weaker your muscles felt. even willing a finger to move seemed to take more energy than you could expend. still, you tried to cling to what little strength sir nighteye’s words had given you before. you got through the other circles, you could get through this one…

....right?

“it’s too late for that.”

finally, his response came, and you couldn’t help the twinge of pain from within your heart. the devoid tone he held threatened to suck away the small sliver of resolve you had just made for yourself. you watched as he stepped around to one of the desks beside you, leaning back against the top much too nonchalantly. his movements were sluggish and tired, he too seemed bogged down by the energy of this place. it was a crushing weight that only seemed to grow more and more intense the longer you spent here.

and it didn’t look like you would be leaving anytime soon.

“your mother is in the ninth circle. you won’t make it past here.”

the matter of fact manner in which he spoke sparked annoyance within you. with furrowed brows, you spoke determinedly against the crushing weight. your eyes narrowed at him, forcing yourself to meet his bloodshot stare with this newfound façade of bravery.

“i’ve made it so far. who are you to say i won’t make it out of here?”

you couldn’t tell whether your words displeased him or surprised him, for his features remained flat and lifeless the entire time you spoke. it was only the slight twitch of his brows that gave you the sense that his own annoyance was brewing.

“you lack the conviction.”

his words took you back for a moment, lips parted and jaw slacked in the shock of his declaration. the...conviction…? did he think that you didn’t truly want to save your mom? your eyes remained narrowed slits as they stared at him, finding the strength to speak to him again.

“you don’t know me.”

“i know all who enter here. this is my domain.”

anxiety pooled in your stomach as he revealed himself. so, he was the one in charge of sloth? you had not expected to find him so quickly, but you also hadn’t expected someone quite so...gruff? was he supposed to be a teacher here? he looked...homeless. shaking the thought from your mind, you tried to focus on him again. for now, he was answering your questions, right? you might as well take advantage of that.

“your domain? so, you’re the one in charge here?”

instead of answering, he just stared at you with that empty gaze. he seemed tired and lethargic, but, every so often, you saw a glimmer of something within him. something chilling. you knew you should have been trying to make a break for it and run, or trying to figure out a way out of here, but you still couldn’t get yourself to move. all you could do was force yourself to speak and try and find some answers. figuring he wouldn’t answer that question, you spoke up again.

“what do you mean i lack the conviction?”

it seemed that was the right question to ask, as he kicked up from the desk and stepped forward until he was finally looming over you once more. again, your breath hitched in your throat, raising your chin so that your eyes could follow his own. despite his shaggy appearance, he was handsome. even more so than before, he seemed familiar to you, but you could not place him. all you could do was stare.

“you couldn’t do anything to save her before. what makes you think you can now?” his words took you aback, feeling the threat of tears building in your eyes. the omniscient way he spoke down to you was tearing away at your determination to make it through. how could he know anything about your mother? how could he even begin to understand what it was like to watch your rock in life waste away and having there be nothing you could do to help her? for your entire life, your mother was there for you. every hardship you came across, she was there to offer kindness, love, and worldly wisdom. if only she was here now…

“she was sick...there wasn’t anything i could do.”

your voice was barely a whimper, struggling to push past the emotion that had risen up your throat. countless times you had wondered whether or not there was something that you could have done differently. that somehow, some way, you could have managed some miracle to help her get better. realistically, you knew there was nothing you personally could have done, but the way he spoke down to you only rehashed those feelings of guilt and denial that you thought had long since been buried. “not anything?” his head fell to the side, tilting towards his shoulder and shifting long hair with it. “i've heard every excuse there is. regardless of your reasoning, you will end up here. they all do.”

at that, your head shot towards the door as you heard a wailing cry in the distance. more and more started to come forth, echoing down the long, vacant halls. they were just beyond the door, crying for someone to help them. for a moment, you thought you heard yourself among the cries.

your attention only snapped back when another end of the scarf he wore wrapped around your neck and forced you to look back to him. fire burned behind his gaze as he stared down at you, pulling at his scarf to yank you to your feet. instinctively, your hands gripped the cloth around your throat, struggling to pull it away enough to breathe. he wrapped it around his fist and pulled you even closer, almost gagging you with the scent of brimstone that seemed to radiate from him. you shuddered at his closeness, feeling your stomach twist into knots, but you couldn’t look away. again, the magnetic pull of his gaze forced you to look at him.

“do you hear them?”

meekly, you nodded, almost unable to hear him over the crescendo of wails coming from down the hall. you struggled to try and keep your head, desperate cries of agony drowning out logic and reason and replacing it with guilt.

you lacked the conviction.

“they’re just like you. try as they may, they will never succeed to free themselves. what good is a hero without the strength to do what must be done?”

a...hero?

realization hit you like a brick as you suddenly recognized the man before you. he was a teacher at ua high school. you had seen him on the news quite a few times trying to clear up the distrust for heroes that was growing in society. it always seemed that he was trying, so how did he end up here? the thought plagued your heart with dread.

if even a pro-hero could end up here, what would that mean for you? it was almost as if he could sense the dejection creeping in, the corner of his lips starting to twitch up into the ghost of a smirk. slowly, he started to circle around you, the part of his capture device around your ankle starting to coil itself up your leg as he did. your throat suddenly felt dry and hoarse, unable to even force yourself to speak. weakly, you tried to pull at the tightening cloth around your neck to no avail. was this how it would end? stuck in the sixth circle? you had barely been here for ten minutes, but it already felt as if you had been trying to escape for years.

“i was met with a choice once. i had a chance to help, but i didn’t have the confidence to do it, yet i still had the nerve to become a hero. i was a mockery, as they all are. as you are. your cowardice will bring your failure. there is nothing you can do to change it,” he stepped up behind you now, his voice low and sultry against your ear. it was the first time it had changed from its dull monotone, “so why even try?”

why try? you had to...it was the only way that you could get your mom back. it was the only way that you could survive everything that you had already been through. you had to try, but you couldn’t find the strength. your body felt heavy, like a sinking weight drifting into the depths of dark waters. sullenness was creeping in, nurturing the seeds of guilt he had sown within your mind and heart.

was there a point to fighting on? even if you could reach your mom, would you be able to bring her back? would bringing her back even be worth the struggle? he was right. you weren’t strong enough to do it before, what made you think you could do it now when the odds were stacked even higher against you? again, you cursed sir nighteye for dragging you into this mess.

your hands which still struggled to pull at the bind around your throat were starting to weaken in their fight against him. he pressed himself against your back, using the scarf to pull you flush to his torso. you could feel his hand at your hip, anchoring your backside upon his pelvis. a gasp betrayed you, your head falling back onto his shoulder.

“stay here. where else is there for you to go?”

the hand at your hip was shifting forward, slipping towards the hem of your skirt. you could feel the rough pads of his fingers just brushing the top of your thigh. the same goosebumps you got before infected your body like a plague once more, travelling down your spine with a little shiver. again, you found yourself at the mercy of inferno, becoming nothing more than a doll in the hands of a sinner. through the fog settling in your mind, you managed to pray for help. for someone to help release you.

“surrender to me.”

you were unable to fight against the pull of your leg by his scarf, parting your thighs for his hand that roamed you freely. it slipped between your legs, gripping the tender meat of your loin with the same hunger that had reflected within his eyes earlier. like a spider, he had laid his trap with ease and caught you swiftly in his tangled web. you struggled to move away from him, but your motions were half hearted and tainted with defeat.

what was the point?

you could feel his hand slipping up to your panties, pressing against the sensitive bundle of nerves between your legs. you wanted to cry out for help, but all you could manage was a meek moan, once again betraying yourself. no, no, no, you thought, eyes desperately searching the room for some way out, this can’t happen. i need to get out of here.

i need to find my mom.

“w-what are you doing?” you just barely choked out, peering at him from the corner of your eye.

“for satan finds some mischief still for idle hands to do.” again, his words took on that headiness he had lacked before, running his tongue up the expanse of your neck and to your ear. it disrupted your thoughts, bringing out a soft groan from you.

each time your mind found some sort of clarity, he dragged you away from it with more devilish touches. his fingers started to circle you, sending another chill down your spine and tremor through your legs. whenever he spoke, his lips brushed against the shell of your ear. his breath was warm on your skin, almost seeming comforting against the cool air. for a moment, you wondered how bad it would really be to just let it all go…

you must not give in.

again, those words plagued your mind and tried to force you away from the growing heat between your legs. he had warned you this time, tried to prepare you in some way for what was to come from this circle, but all you had done was complain. you cursed him for bringing you into this mess when you were the one who agreed to follow in the first place. again, you felt guilt twinging your heart. you were too much of a coward to do anything for your mom. you were a fool to believe you could have moved past this.

“surrender.” his voice in your ear was reeling you in like a siren’s song, dragging you further and further down into the depths. his touches made you feel like you were sinking almost into sleep. your legs gave out, the full weight of your body being supported by him. his attention turned to the silent tears that streamed down your cheeks as you stared absently up at the ceiling. you could barely register the feeling of his tongue sliding up your face to collect the salty trail that rolled down. with every touch, you felt more and more of your energy being siphoned from you. between this place and him, you were being drained of everything you had left.

i’m sorry, mom. i just couldn’t do it.

finally, your eyes closed. you couldn’t help but wonder how sir nighteye would feel about your failure. would he be disappointed? or would he remain indifferent?

what would happen to your mom if you stopped here?

it was that question that brought your eyes to open again. you tried to ignore the starved bites to your neck and the hands that continued to touch you. to find your focus through the fog in your mind was a struggle, but you somehow managed as you continued to think of your mom. memories of her came flooding in, a lot of which you had buried deep since her passing. they hurt too much to remember before, leaving you too afraid to relive them for fear of ripping open the wounds again. now, you didn’t care. you forced them to come to the surface. with every thought of her, you felt your strength starting to return. you know he could feel it too, as his opposite arm started to circle around your waist and keep you pressed against him. as if trying to erase the strength you were building, his hips moved along your own, rubbing his arousal against your backside.

the temptation to fall back again was great, but you forced yourself to break past it. with a shove, you pushed yourself away from him. you hit the cold linoleum with a hard smack, feeling blood starting to drip from where your forehead had smashed into the floor. the fabric of his capture device had pulled you down, but it was loosened now. bleary eyed as you tried to catch your breath from the impact, you looked over your shoulder to see where he was. his vacant stare was alight with burning embers once more, smoldering down at you with such great intensity. again, his hair rose around himself.

“you think you can run?”

you didn’t have time to answer before he was on top of you, trying to pin your arms down by your head. you screamed and twisted your body beneath him, crying out as he shoved his knee into your hip to pin you down. despite his strength, you still struggled and fought as much as you could. no matter how he touched you, or what words he said into your ear, you would not give up here.

“you think you can escape me?”

his lips collided within your own, violently claiming yours and invading your mouth with his tongue. the heat that had radiated from him before was nothing like it was now. it threatened to burn you as he forced himself upon you, a bruising grip on your wrists as he tried to keep you down.

you understood now that the bondage of guilt was self imposed, but you knew he was going to do anything to keep you beneath him. to keep you here in this place, stuck with all of the others who fell into laziness and apathy. those who lost their care to do what was right because they could not find the strength to surpass what they found to be too difficult.

again, you heard the wailing cries of the students outside of the classroom, begging for someone to release them, but that was just it. no one was going to come to release them.

they had to find the strength to release themselves.

with all of your might, you shifted on the ground and pushed up with your leg. your voice was found again, yelling out as you propelled yourself up and threw him off of you and into the podium at the front of the room. his head smacked against the metal, grunting in response. in that moment, you felt the cloth around your leg and neck fully release itself, and you scrambled up from the ground while pulling away the ties. without hesitation, you ran for the door and pushed yourself out into the hall.

the halls were no longer empty, but lined with students. they were battered and bruised, their training uniforms practically ripped to shreds. you gasped as you stepped out from the classroom and felt your foot starting to sink into the ground. looking down, you saw that the floor was no longer the solid linoleum it was before but had become mud. the students struggled against it, weakly lifting their legs to no avail and crying out as they couldn’t release themselves. they reached for you, gripping your shoulders and begging for you to save them.

panic was settling in your heart, fearing that it would beat out of your chest from how fast it was pumping. you turned over your shoulder to see the man in the classroom starting to stand up, the red in his gaze seeming even more intense than it had been as it found you in the doorway.

it was now or never.

you forced yourself again to use all of the strength that you could muster to push past the suffering students and move down the hall. your muscles were aching against the pull of the mud trying to keep you back, but you pushed yourself to keep going. you couldn’t stay here. not with them. not with him.

you couldn’t give up.

you knew he was behind you, moving through the thick mud with much more ease than you had, but you couldn’t turn back to face him. you kept your eyes ahead, shoving past those who were in your way. the hallway was starting to fade into darkness, the fluorescent lights going out one by one as you made your way beneath them. at the very end sat the elevator, illuminated only by the numbers that were counting up to six. sir nighteye was returning for you.

“you won’t be able to save her. you might as well stop here.”

the man’s voice called after you, trying to lure you back to him. the temptation was great, especially as you felt your body start to slow, struggling to fight the exhaustion that was settling into your bones. you were panting; your chest heaving as you tried to force air into your burning lungs. fire was ripping through your body, threatening to seize your muscles, but you still kept on. you kept playing those memories of your mom over and over in your mind to help push you farther and farther away from the man. you could hear him behind you starting to speed up, angrily yelling for you to just give in. it almost seemed as if he was desperate for you to stay.

the elevator doors started to open as you got closer, the familiar face of sir nighteye looking at you from the inside. in some ways, it almost looked as if he was pleasantly surprised. with a final bound, you lept inside of the elevator shaft, just barely missing the end of the man’s capture scarf as the door started to close behind you.

with your chest heaving, you pressed yourself against the wall and watched as the doors closed just before his reaching hands made it to them. relief flooded you as the elevator began to descend, never thinking that you would be so thankful to hear the chilling grind of its gears once more.

“i didn’t think you would make it.” you scoffed at the words from the man beside you, shooting him a glare as you tried to readjust your clothes.

“gee, thanks.”

your gaze turned up towards the numbers before turning to him again.

“what’s next?”

#aizawa x reader #aizawa x y/n #aizawa x you #shouta aizawa x you #shouta aizawa x reader #shouta aizawa x y/n #bnha aizawa #aizawa smut #mentioned #dante's inferno collab #dante's inferno #mha #bnha #collab #tw noncon

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babylooneytoonz · 4 years ago

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protector

Geralt of Rivia x fem!reader

Summary: Set in episode three of the Witcher where Geralt goes to Temeria to take down the striga, and reader is his companion, and his friend, although Geralt never admits it. Requested by @dashingcavill [ hope you like it, my love.🤍]

When Geralt and the reader are each other's silent protectors, what else do they need? Although they don't admit having each other is the best thing that has happened to them.

warnings: Geralt is a soft, big bear with a heart that is full of love, only he doesn't like admitting it. **I tried to add fluff, I really did. • [My Masterlist]

*Please reblog if you like it, do not repost, copy or claim my work as yours.

"No."

"No? You do realize I'm still going to follow you, right?" You blinked, running a hand through your messy hair, only to let your fingers get entangled into them, making you groan silently. As if the broody Witcher wasn't enough for you to be able to handle, add the rustling winds into the picture and your hair were already resembling a hen's nest.

"I can handle it," Geralt grumbled under his breath, his baritone deep and low.

You shook your head, more at the obvious stubbornness of the white haired man next to you, making you pause for a moment. It was only when you looked up, you realized that Geralt had kept walking, and was now, almost ten steps ahead of you. You muttered a resolute curse under your breath, as you picked up pace and darted after your companion of fifty two days, to be exact.

"You're thankless, Witcher. I saved your ass a dozen times too," you huffed, finally catching up to him, as you grabbed the edge of his armour to try and slow him down but he didn't, "What makes you think you can take that thing down alone?"

Geralt craned his neck slightly to give you a look but he did not utter a word. Instead, you were greeted by his monotonous grunt and you gave him a coy smile,"I know what you're thinking, Witcher. Can I say it?"

He raised an eyebrow, almost and regarded you for a second through his golden orbs before he turned his face back towards the direction he was walking towards, muttering under his breath, "Will you not say it if I say no?"

You shook your head, almost like a twelve year old trapped in a body of a twenty five year old, "Not really. Now can I say it?"

Geralt groaned in fake annoyance, kicking a pebble that he spotted on the ground, a hint of a smirk breaking out against his lips, that he knew you couldn't see as you weren't really paying attention.

"Well you must be thinking," you suddenly changed your voice into a lower note, almost making yourself a fake Geralt baritone, "I should have let her be eaten by the wyvern. Why the hell did I save her life? Now she is stuck to me like gum."

Geralt's lips twitched, and he couldn't help but look down and shake his head, "Hm."

"You weren't."

"Do you ever stop talking?"

You did that thing with your lips, pushing your upper lip upwards in retaliation to his words, and Geralt just took a deep breath and he turned away from you, a faint smile still draped over his lips, the smile only dropping when the castle was finally in sight.

"Stay out here."

"But I told you—"

Geralt raised his palm in the air, in front of you before you could fight him on this. He had already made up his mind, he wasn't going to put you at risk. He knew you were skilled, and he knew your father had always wanted a son, a son who could fight a battle, yield a sword, and spill blood. But he had instead gotten you. He taught you all those things though, skilling you in his to hold a sword, and just how to use a sword to silence the enemy, and you were pretty good at it.

However whatever it was, lurking inside the castle was something Geralt never wanted you to face. Maybe it was fear, a fear of losing you to whatever the hell it was, and an ounce of doubt on himself, the what ifs, what if he couldn't keep you from harm's way and what if something happened to you.

"I'm coming with you," you announced, only to receive an animalistic growl from the Witcher. "It's daylight, and that thing doesn't usually attack during the day. I should be safe. Besides, you need my help, because although you do excel in bodily strength, you're in an obvious lack of brains."

"I should have left you with that wyvern," Geralt spat, a hint of an amusement calling out of his tone as he began walking into the castle and you followed.

The structure was exactly like you had expected it to be, dirty and dinghy, cobwebs dangling everywhere, and it was difficult to breath, but you didn't complain as you followed the Witcher around, from one room to another, investigating. The hallways were dark, dinghy and you could smell the death, even without the Witcher's sense of hearing, making you wonder for a split second, what Geralt was actually feeling. He was walking next to you, his eyes fixed on the surroundings while you were looking at the dried blood trails that decorated the floor of the hallway. In one corner, you spotted a decaying head of a human being, and something churned inside your gut, forcing you to look away.

"You can still leave," his loud voice ensnared towards you, and you involuntarily grabbed the fabric of your sleeves, curling them into your fingers, shaking your head.

"This really doesn't scare me, Wolf. It will take a lot more than that to actually scare me," you lied through your lips. Who were you kidding, he could feel the racing of your heart, and the signs that you were actually afraid, of the unknown, unlike him but he also knew that you were the most stubborn woman he had come across, and although he never admitted; this was one of the things he had grown to like about you, that, and the fact that your mouth was the exact opposite of his, something that never stopped moving. Your talkativeness was refreshing to him, and he could keep listening to your useless banter for hours and not get bored with it. Not that he would ever openly admit that to you.

You looked at the massive portrait that hung from the wall, of Adda and Foltest, when they were children and you couldn't help but let thousands of thoughts fly through your mind. A lot didn't make sense at the back of your mind, but everything to you pointed towards Foltest being the father of the striga, a concern that you had already vouched to Geralt, and he did seem to agree.

The sound of Geralt kicking open a door pulled you out of your trance and you quickly entered Adda's bedroom after him, eyeing the state of unrest the room was in. The chandelier lay fallen on the floor, shards of glass broken and decorating the floor. The bed was unkempt, the sheets slept in, and musty.

You noticed Geralt stiffen when he saw the bed. You bit your lip, moving to the cabinet, running your hand along the dust coated surface of it when Geralt took a deep breath, and you understood what he was doing. You immediately turned, taking long steps towards him and you grabbed the leather of his sleeve, pulling him to turn towards you, your eyes searching for answers in his face, "You found out. You smelled it. What did you find?"

Geralt pursed his lips together, as he looked down at you, "Ostrit. I smell him in the sheets." You were startled by the revelation, your eyes almost popping out as you looked at the bed and blinked, the bits and pieces coming together in your mind. Of course.

You turned towards Geralt, your lips tugging upwards, "Not a pretty picture in your mind I suppose?"

"I never thought I'd ever have to picture his ass in the back of my mind," he looked at you, his voice gravelly, his baritone thick but you could sense the jest in his voice.

Anxiety was not a pretty picture, especially not when you couldn't keep your mind off Geralt. He had forcibly left you at the tavern, and although you had a massive pitcher of ale to drown in, you couldn't stop worrying about the big man, your palm laying flat against the table, your fingers tapping against the wood in nervousness and anxiousness.

Geralt's warning words still rang through your mind when he had asked you to stay here, and not step out of the tavern until he came back. In fact, what had made you angry at him as he left, you fuming from the inside that he had actually had the audacity to slip in some coins to the owner of the tavern, just to have eyes on you, so you didn't sneak out.

What you hadn't told the Witcher and neither did you plan on telling him was the fact that you had watched him die in your nightmare, just a few night back, and it was still haunting you, deep inside, no matter how hard you tried to shove the thoughts away from your brain, drowning yourself in ale. A lingering question was eating you up, what if your nightmare was actually a premonition? What if this was destiny's way of telling you something? What if something was going to happen to the White Wolf tonight? The striga, after all, did kill the other Witcher. How were you so sure she wouldn't overpower Geralt?

That's it, you slammed your palm against the table, almost knocking off the half empty pitcher. You grabbed it, and brought it up to your lips, chugging the contents of it all, like a man, until you slammed it back against the table. You stood up, pinching your nose as you confidently walked up to the owner of the tavern.

"How much coin did the Witcher pay you for keeping me trapped in here? What if I pay you double?"

The bald headed man looked at you, his gaze flicking to the pouch of your coins as you tossed it up and down in the air, the rattle of the coins echoing through his ears, making him lick his lips.

"Give me a ten, and run out of the back, not the front," he hissed, in a low voice.

"Good man," you smiled, as you loosened the noose of the pouch, pulling out a fistful of coins, that were in fact, more than ten, but you still laid them down on the counter, and the man hungrily placed both his hands on it, dragging them away from you. You winked at him, running a hand through your hair, as you turned around and started running towards the back, thinking how jealousy could be your downfall. A fist on the jaw from the Witcher, and all that coin would be used for fixing up his damn face.

A trail of blood leaked down his temple, the back of his head lay against the flooring as the striga climbed on top of him, her hollow, toothy mouth flared open as bits of drool fell on his face. The cursed being let out a shrill screech, her clawed hands grabbing the Witcher's armour as she lifted him up and slammed him hard against the floor again, and Geralt's sword fell from his hand, sliding inches away.

"I swear if you die on me, Witcher, I will never forgive you," you cursed under your breath, your sleeved palm wiping the base of your neck as sweat dripped down your chin, drop by drop. You were panting, gasping from air, your legs almost beginning to give away but you dared not stop, until you finally reached the castle. You began running up the front, when a loud, eerie screech resonated from somewhere inside and you were forced to draw out your sword.

"I swear I will never get bored of saving your ass, Geralt of Rivia," you spat as you ran inside, jumping over a half eaten arm of an unlucky man right at the entrance.

Geralt's eyes locked on yours, and he gave you a look that warned you of anything but happiness. He pursed his lips, his fists clenching as he began taking a step towards you. That's when you saw the thing, it was dangling from the wall, just above him.

"Geralt, look behind you!" You screamed loudly, throwing out your pointy finger towards the air but before he could, the striga pounced on him, making him land on the floor, on top of you, his face pressed between the valley of your breasts. If you weren't going to get killed, any time sooner, Geralt would have appreciated the dark humour that escaped your lips, the striga looking right into your eyes.

"What better way to die than a man's face pressed to my breasts— Aaaahhhh fuck.."

The striga's knee pressed down hard against your shoulder and you swore you felt a crack of a bone or two as her monstrous hands came to rest on your throat. Her fingers slowly began squeezing the life out of you, your eyeballs almost bobbing out as you coughed, trying to gasp for air. Geralt tries to push himself as much as he could, his arm outstretched so he could grab your sword. "G-Geralt.. Ger.." Your vision was turning black, your mind already swimming in pain and confusion, owing to the pain in your shoulder, and the cut off of oxygen supply from your body.

His fingers finally reached the hilt of your sword, clasping against it. Fixing himself up on one of his elbows, as much as the creature on top of him allowed him to move, he struck the side of the striga's face with the hilt, the force being enough to knock her off for a bit disorienting her.

Geralt jumped up to his feet as he bent and slid his arms underneath your thigh, lifting you up into his arms as he charged towards the stone coffin like structure that lay in the center of the hall. Upon reaching it, he threw you inside like a sack of grain, without showing a tiny ounce of compassion or gentleness. You couldn't blame him though as the Striga was already charging in your direction now having recovered from Geralt's blow.

Geralt jumped into the structure just after you, and before the striga could get to the two of you, Geralt had managed to successfully move the slab over the top, covering the two of you up. He also secured it using a sign he made, an added protection so the Striga couldn't try and open it, even though she wanted to do it.

A breath escaped your lips. You could hear the cursed being screeching outside, as she tried to claw through the stone slab, trying to get it to open, but it didn't work. The pain in your shoulder was unbearable and the inside of the structure was cramped, and with the Witcher's heavy, bulky frame on top of you, it was hard to breathe. Yet, you were content.

Geralt didn't say anything for a few seconds, but his forehead rested against your other shoulder. You could feel the rise and the fall of his chest, and you could sense that his elbow was resting next to your head, as he struggled to keep the weight of his body as light as though afraid to crush you. You noted this soft gesture and you wanted to smile, but you couldn't, not when the throbbing of your shoulder was making tears prick into your eyes.

A few seconds turned to minutes, and Geralt's frown widened as he noticed how silent you were. You silence now being deafening to him as the screech now died down, making him assume that the Striga had given up on trying to pry open the structure and was now waiting for them to open up. Finally, the adrenaline turned into anger and Geralt's nostrils flared. He slammed his fisted palm into the stone next to your head but you didn't even wince,"Now you decide to stay quiet. I told you not to come."

You let out a warm gush of air from your lips, hitting Geralt right against his neck. He sighed, fluttering his lashes a little. He knew there was no point in arguing with you for you were a stubborn one.

"Funny, I lost the coin," he added, in a dry tone, trying his level best to lighten up. If the two of you were to stay stuck inside for a few more hours now then why not make a use of it? Although Geralt had never thought he would see a day when he would be the one trying to coax words out of your lips.

His frown widened and he sniffed lightly, and the more he concentrated, it didn't take him long to realize the metallic copper smell, that was almost too strong for his liking— the smell of blood. He tried to move adjust himself better so he could look down at you, and as he inclined himself, more towards your left shoulder, the smell worsened.

"Fuck, [Y/N]?" His otherwise low pitched, serious voice suddenly clouded with a sliver of worry, his hand came to rest against your forehead as two fingers swiped over your sweat drenched face. His fingers slid down to the side of your neck, and he felt your pulse and a sudden alarm fled him up. You had a pulse, but he could barely feel it, and the sound of your heartbeat was much lower than usual."Fuck, fuck, fucking — where did she get you?"

"I'm... Fine .." You tried, but the sound of your teeth now chattering was an enough signal for him to know you were blatantly lying to him. Gently, he placed his palm over your injured shoulder only to jerk his hand back as you let out a scream of agony. Now he could smell and feel the wetness on his hand where he had touched you. That's when he realized that the impact of the striga's knee had dislodged your bone, that had pierced through your skin as was now protruding, and you seemed to have soaked through your leather shirt.

He growled, and placed his hands on the slab above you, and slowly began moving it. You reached out, placing your hand on his wrist.

"D-don't, Geralt, w-what are you doing?" You whispered.

"Killing that thing and getting you out of here."

"No, close that damn," you coughed, "slab, Geralt. All these efforts.. to.. to lift that fucking curse.. and you're.. you're going to kill her .. for what?"

Although he pulled it shut again, his frown was deep and lasting.

"I'm not going to let you die, even though you are stupid enough to walk yourself into a death trap."

You laughed, coughing and wincing at the same time as the movement caused the pain to flare again, making you still once more, "You're daft for a Witcher. I'm not.. dying. I'm conserving my energy.. a broken shoulder doesn't kill people."

His eyebrows almost flew upwards. You amazed him at times. Out of all the times you had been sassy with him, this was probably going to be the most memorable one for him.

When he didn't reply, you slowly let your uninjured hand travel through the cramped space up to his face, and you placed your fingers lightly against his jaw, tracing the outline of it. He blinking, glancing down at your fingers for a bit before looking back at you. His own fingers slowly, reluctantly traveled to the side of your face, as he began cupping your jaw, "Geralt, I'm not dying so soon. You think.. you're gonna get rid of me.. you're wrong."

He released a sound straight from his lungs; something between a growl and a snort, perhaps a mix of both as he let his head rest against you. The two of you stayed like that for a few seconds, and you were about to flutter your heavy eyelids shut when you heard his low voice, "Don't you fucking die on me."

"I'm cold, Geralt.." you whispered suddenly, and he propped himself up again on his elbow, "but you.. you're so warm. Like the sun."

He smiled, sadly, his thumb toying with the side of your cheek.

Geralt knew it wouldn't be long now before the rooster crowed three times and the sun would rise up, and the curse would be broken. He only begged, to anything or anyone that was listening to him, to give you the strength to hold on for a little longer. It was then he realized that you had dozed off.

You woke up with a shudder, and your body still hurt, even with every breath you took. The sun was now shining over your face and you realized that the slab above you was open, and Geralt wasn't anywhere beside you.

Slowly, you wiggled yourself slightly, but the pain in your shoulder made you bite down on your lip. You shook your head, and looked around, and your eyes fell on the bloody shirt fabric that was hanging loosely from your shoulder where your bone had ripped you. You pried the fabric off and fisted it into a ball stuffing it into your mouth so you didn't scream. You sat up, tears streaming down your eyes as you screamed into the cloth.

Geralt heard your screaming. He was kneeling down by the girl, now the curse having been lifted as he studied her face but at the sound of your scream, he jumped up to his legs and ran towards the structure, finding you seated, your shoulder red like cherry and a bone visibly popped out.

"Come on," he commanded, but he didn't let you stand up. Instead, he dived his beefy arm underneath your thigh and lifted you up effortlessly as he carried you out of the castle.

"What about her, Geralt?" You whispered.

"She is fine, someone will come for her."

You woke up in a castle, but this one was much different from the other one. Your eyes fell on your shoulder, and you realized that your shoulder had been dressed, the bone probably pushed back into its original place. Slowly, you craned your neck to see an older woman, definitely a healer for you could see all sorts of herbs stacked on the walls in jars.

When you asked her about what had happened, she told you how Geralt of Rivia had brought you to her. She told you how you had been in and out of a drugged sleep for almost four days now.

When you asked him where he was, she informed you that he was at the tavern, and you were free to leave although she did recommend you taking it easy and not embarking on tiresome journeys as your wound was still raw, and healing.

Pulling a shawl made of raw wool tighter around your shoulder, to keep it and yourself warm, you reached the tavern, immediately spotting the tall man from the back of his long white hair. He had his palm drawn towards the tavern owner who was trembling and placing coins one by one back into his palm.

"What's going on here?"

You gave him a lopsided grin, as he turned at the sound of your voice, and his lips twitched slightly. He eyed you carefully, his eyes lingering on your wounded shoulder for longer before he turned away his attention back on the owner, "Just getting what is mine."

"Can we leave this wretched place? We have had too much of a drama, and I really need to forget. Besides, the healer gave me a clear pass to travel, before you ask."

He smiled, bringing the pitcher of ale that he was drinking, up to his lips, and you saw his Adams apple move as he swallowed a mouthful. You groaned, grabbing the pitcher from his hand, and prying it away, throwing it up to your lips and chugging it all down, not leaving a single drop of ale for him.

"You witch, I should have never taken your cursed coin." The owner suddenly began, his beefy finger pointing to you.

You were met with a cracking noise and you couldn't help but give a smile of content when you saw Geralt's fist collide with the owner's jaw, making him topple backwards. "Want your coin?" Geralt asked you, his eyebrow raised in amusement and you smirked, shaking your head, "Nah, let it be. He will need all the coin to get that jaw treated. Though, I expected a better punch from you."

Though Geralt's lips were pressed in a firm line, the edges of it were drawn upwards as the two of you stepped out of the tavern. His heart sighed with relief and it was refreshing fir him to hear your voice again. He didn't want you to stop speaking, although he didn't say it out loud.

After a few minutes of a slow walk, you reached the stables and Geralt brought Roach out.

"Geralt? Will you let me ride her?"

He always said no. If there was anything Geralt didn't let you do, it was riding Roach. And so far, you were okay with it.

"Come here." He suddenly said, tapping on the mare's side, and your jaw dropped.

"what?"

"Come before I change my mind."

If you could have run towards him, you would have. If he could have lifted you up in his arms, he would have. All these would haves, but those really didn't really happen. What actually happened when you reached Roach's side, ready to lift yourself up on her, Geralt suddenly turned you towards him, and pressed you against the mare's side, his lips pressed to yours.

The kiss lasted only ten seconds, but you found yourself licking your lips when he broke it, tasting Geralt on you. He was smirking as he didn't say a word.

"What was that for?" You asked, licking your lips.

"For trying to get killed," he grumbled under his breath.

"You could have said, for trying to save my life. You're welcome, Witcher."

He only gave you an amused smirk, helping you get on the mare and took its reins as he started walking with it. You looked down at him, and blinked, giving him a smile and he raised his brow, his own lips turned upwards, "What?"

"Will you let me sleep in your tent now?" You bit your lip.

"Hm, only if you promise not to snore."

Henry Cavill All Characters Taglist:

@bitchynicole @libbymouse @petitefirecracker10 @naughty-koala07 @maan24 @pterodactylterrace

Want to be added to my Henry Cavill All Characters Masterlist? Please let me know via my ask box, DM or a comment. ✨

#geralt of rivia x y/n #geralt of rivia works #geralt of rivia x you #geralt of rivia x reader #geralt of rivia #the witcher x you #the witcher x y/n #the witcher x reader #the witcher #witcher geralt #henry cavill

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ibelongtowrath · 4 years ago

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Merry Christmas @marianaredwixi!!!

I may be a writer, but there aren’t enough words in any language that could accurately convey just how grateful I am for you.

You are a beautiful soul, inside and out, and your light shines so brightly. From our chats, to ranting, to our fun RPs, and everything in between, you make me smile every single day.

Your Christmas gift might be stuck in the mail, but I wanted to give you another gift that will hopefully make you smile as much as you make me do. I love you dearly, and I wish I could give you the world because you deserve it, but sadly I cannot. What I can provide, though, are lovely Lucifer stories for you to enjoy ;)

Dedicated to you, my amazing friend! I hope you love it.

You Are My Light - Lucifer x Reader

Everything is ready, Lucifer thinks to himself, making his way quietly back into the bedroom. That is, everything but the most important part.

He had risen before dawn that morning, Christmas morning, in preparation. It was a day he had never really enjoyed celebrating that much - nor did he really care for the symbolism behind it, but he knew it was important to you, his love, and he wanted to pull out all the stops.

Lucifer turns the knob on the door, stepping in to close it softly behind him. It clicks, and he winces, turning towards your sleeping form sprawled out on his massive bed - you remain visibly undisturbed, cradling your head against the soft down pillows, snoring softly. He relaxes, letting out a deep exhale. Good, I didn’t disturb her.

Stepping out of his shoes to pad quietly over to the bed, he perches himself on the edge. His face softens as he studies yours - blissful, deep in the sweet embrace of slumber. He can feel his heart swelling in his chest, leaning over to stroke your hair with the lightest of touches, ghosting his finger over a cheek. It never got old, waking up to you like this. So beautifully sweet, relaxed in his arms, safe, home. Lucifer looks up to the ceiling and chuckles softly, shaking his head. Father, he thinks, you have done so much that I despise you for - but I cannot hate you for giving her to me. For creating her soul to fit so perfectly with mine. No, I think that, on this day, I should be thankful. So... I will say it. Thank you, Father.

Closing his eyes to reflect a few moments longer on his gratitude, Lucifer shakes his head; a deep sigh escapes him - not one of sorrow or annoyance, but in contentment. He turns back to you, still at rest, and he smiles. Gently, so to not shift the mattress, he leans over your still-sleeping form to press a kiss to your forehead, letting his lips linger against your warm skin before he pulls back, tracing a thumb over your bottom lip.

Reaching into his pocket, he places a small note on the nightstand next to your charging D.D.D. as he rises to standing, letting himself take one last longing glance at you as he turns back to step into his shoes, leaving the room as quietly as he had entered.

I await you, my love.

--------

“Mmmm...”

With a large yawn, your arms stretch above your head as you turn to the side to greet your demon lover.

“Hey, Lu-”

You pause, noticing the empty space in the bed next to you. Hm, maybe he texted me? He probably had to go somewhere, you think to yourself with another yawn, turning your body over to grab your D.D.D. A small, folded-up note rest atop the phone, your name written in carefully-etched black ink, perfect strokes that belong to only one demon - yours. Your curious fingers reach for the paper, sitting up in the bed as you swing your legs to the side.

Merry Christmas, my love. Follow the path of the ribbon, and I shall await you at the end with many a merry surprise. I love you, my light.

- Lucifer

“Ribbon? Wha-”

Confused, you stand from the bed and slip on a pair of comfortable slippers in front of the nightstand. Your gaze falls upon a crimson silk ribbon laid out on the floor, soft and shiny despite the dim candlelit room, leading to the door of Lucifer’s bedroom. A grin stretches across your face, broad and genuine, and you excitedly skip to the doorway, pausing briefly to smooth down your hair, still simultaneously wild on one side and flat on the other from where your head was pressed into the pillow.

Stepping out into the hallway, you raise an eyebrow at the seemingly endless ribbon, the likes of which even makes a turn at the end of the corridor. The door clicks shut behind you as you begin to make your way, following the path of the silk, the same color as Lucifer’s crimson gaze. Curiosity only deepens as you realize the ribbon is leading you to the library, confusion passing over your features when you see it pass under the large wooden doors before the realization dawns on you. With another grin, you push through the doors and saunter up to the special bookshelf situated in the back of the grand room.

As though sensing your presence, the shelf yields, opening to reveal the path into Lucifer’s sequestered study room. The silken path ends there, and you slowly begin to make your way in, gasping in surprise as your hand claps over your mouth. Suddenly overwhelmed, your eyes well up with grateful tears.

The room is swathed in warmth that comes not only from the roaring fireplace, but with the joy, and pride, that fills the room. Christmas music, a joyful and upbeat tune, plays from the old-fashioned record player situated on the desk, coupled with the gentle crackling of fire licking at wood. A large pine tree, adorned with the same silk ribbon that led you here and soft, twinkling lights sits in the middle of the room. Red ornaments hang from the branches, the dancing fire reflected in the shiny orbs that glitter in the light add to the magical atmosphere. Endless abundances of gift boxes surround the bottom of the tree, overflowing to rest against cabinets with their shelves filled with bottles and bottles of Lucifer’s alcohol of choice.

“Merry Christmas, darling.”

A sexy, low voice calls out to you amongst your grateful delight, drawing your attention to the fireplace. The sight before you causes your hand to drop from your mouth and down to your side, lips parting in both awe and desire, stunting your ability to speak.

Lucifer stands, completely bare, save for a deep red collar emblazoned with a black buckle wrapped snugly around his throat, and a smug grin upon his handsome face. Letting his demon form emerge, raven-black wings flare out to full wingspan. He raises an arm, turning a hand over to curl a finger, beckoning you over to him. In his other hand rests a swath of that gorgeous silken ribbon. Slowly, you begin to step towards him - your eyes never leave his, intense vermilion pools that shine beautifully, daring you to become lost in that jewel-toned gaze.

Wrapping you tightly in his embrace as you reach him, his lips find yours - kissing softly at first, letting himself feel you; until he cups your cheek with a hand, thumb caressing your skin as he presses his lips harder to yours. Your eyelids flutter, his wings doing the same - overwhelmed with love, and the tiny embers of lust that begin flaring to life as Lucifer breaks the kiss to slip your shirt over your head, and you shiver, though not from cold.

“I love you, my darling,” Lucifer whispers into your skin, pressing soft kisses into the curve of your neck.

“I love you too, Lucifer,” you breathe in response, closing your eyes and letting your hands roam the broad, muscled expanse of his smooth back, fingers resting just above where his wings meet the skin.

“When I gaze upon your face, all the unrest in this realm, and the others, falls away. Your eyes reflect my soul, and yours, the other half of mine. It shines so brightly, like the light of a thousand suns, despite the eternal darkness. You chase out the wickedness I hold within, the sorrow that becomes my very being, and replace it with a light that can never be snuffed out so long as I hold you in my arms. That is exactly what you are - my light in the dark, my home, my everything.”

Lucifer crashes his lips against yours once more, cradling you tightly in his arms, pouring every ounce of his devotion into the kiss. Your mouth opens, ever so slightly, inviting his to as well; a series of open-mouthed kisses, drawing out small breathy moans that escape into him. A few moments later, he pulls away, pressing the diamond in his forehead to yours, gently.

“Before you open all your presents, love, there’s one I’d like to give you first,” Lucifer purrs.

The demon steps back before sinking to his knees slowly before you, pressing wet kisses that trail along your torso, stopping just before he reaches your hips. He hooks his fingers beneath the waistband of your sleep shorts, tugging at it a few times to tease, delighting in the goosebumps that prick across your skin as you shiver in anticipation before pulling them off your body, placing more kisses between your hips - moving his lips to find purchase on the soft flesh of your inner thighs, nibbling gently at the sensitive skin.

Low moans escape from your parted lips, squeezing your thighs together, the warmth from the fire behind you rivaling the temperature of your now-feverish skin. Lucifer rises to stand before you with a smirk, his own desire flaring to life within as he licks his lips.

“Turn around, sweet pet,” he instructs, humming as you comply. “Good girl.”

Lucifer lets the silken ribbon in his hand unfurl, using his free hand to bring your wrists together behind your back. Wrapping them in the ribbon, your arms bound together, he steps back to admire his work, growing hard between his legs as the wetness begins to drip down between yours.

“Beautiful,” Lucifer breathes, sweeping his gaze over your nude form, slightly shadowed by the firelight. “Oh, darling, perhaps this is just as much a present to you as it is to me... but I don’t think I can wait any longer to open my pretty gift.”

Pulling you in for a searing kiss, he gently lowers both your bodies to the soft plush carpeted floor, laying you down gently on your back. He places his hands on your knees, spreading your legs apart, his now-hard length twitching at the sight of your wet heat shining in the light of the fire.

“So perfect, so wet and ready for me,” he breathes.

Sliding into you, his head tips back as he lets out a groan, reveling in the sensation. He rolls his hips, softly yet firmly, leaning forward to graze his lips against yours - eliciting small, gasping and breathy moans as you writhe beneath him in pleasure. Lifting your legs to allow him to get deeper, he rests them on his shoulders as he continues to make love to you, your bodies warm, bare chest flush to bare chest against the warm flames.

“I love you, my light. Merry Christmas.”

#obey me #obey me lucifer #obey me lucifer x reader #i hope you like it!

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cockasinthebird · 4 years ago

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Dear anon,

Here’s the Second Part to the request you made about Billy watching Steve masturbate! I would link the first part but then this post wont show up in the tag because that’s how it works, apparently

I think this might be one of my favourite things I’ve written, and yes I know I say that quite often, but there’s nothing wrong in enjoying your own stuff!!!

And I hope that you all enjoy it just the same~

The second time, he sits in a very expensive chair, specifically the one Mr Harrington occupies whenever he’s actually home and dealing with work from his office, the room covered in mahogany furniture and shiny leather seats.

He spins around a few times, taking in the grand paintings on the walls, none of them of the family whose house this is, the glamorous curtains, the small and tasteful plants, and the head of a stag hanging in all its grandiose above the fireplace. Expensive, fancy, ostentatious. A showroom of importance and wealth.

Any one piece of furniture in this room costs more than Billy’s own house, and there is nothing Billy loathes more than rich assholes that think they can buy the world. Which just makes him defiling the heir to this fortune all the more fun for him.

The leather creaks underneath him as he stops spinning. From atop the desk he brings a glass of scotch to his lips, and gives it none of the respect Mr Harrington would believe it to be deserving of; simply bottoms out like it’s a shot of vodka. He licks his lips clean and swallows a few extra times to really enjoy his stealing of the oldest bottle in the liquor cabinet.

Then finally he stands up, slams the glass down with almost too much force on the dark wood, and walks around the desk to sit down in another leather chair, this one facing a couch on where Steve lies naked.

“Enjoying yourself, daddy?” he asks with a smile that runs from one ear to the other, on the verge of cracking his sexy facade.

And Billy laughs heartily at it, throws his head back a bit. “Oh don’t start on that, pretty boy! I am not ready to explore either of our daddy issues just yet.”

Steve can’t help the chuckle that escapes him, then settles it into something more smooth and delicate, teasingly so, as he runs a hand down his side, from chest to hip where it rests. He’s lying on his side, propped up on one elbow, his front turned fully toward where Billy admires the view - still dressed from head to toe - Steve’s cock hard from attention alone, the flushed head resting against the leather. And he waits patiently for whatever Billy has in mind.

When Steve had come home today, Billy had done the whole Marco-Polo charade till Steve found him pouring a drink from the glass bar behind the large desk. He hadn’t bothered complaining or asking any questions about why Billy is in his father’s office, simply sat down when commanded, and stripped without any hesitation when told.

Now they’re looking at one another in silence. Billy spreads his legs as wide as the armrests will allow, and runs his hand rough up and down his girthy cock trapped inside denim still, and Steve’s dark and lustful gaze follows the movement attentively.

“You look amazing like this, Stevie,” Billy mutters, voice thick and salacious as he touches himself through too many layers. “I wanna watch you.”

Steve hums pleasantly and slowly starts slipping the hand on his hip down toward his full erection.

“You said last time you love watching me…” Fingertips graze against his cock, teasing and gentle and slight. “You ever watch me jerk off in private?”

Billy swallows hard, contemplating whether he should tell the truth or if that would be too intrusive to admit. But Steve has yet to get upset at Billy for any of his deviant behaviour. “Yeah, a few times.”

And for the truth he’s rewarded with Steve wrapping his fingers around himself, slowly moving up and down, squeezing around the head that leaks into his hand.

“Ah-h, good,” Steve’s voice starting to waver as he strokes his dick; wetting it with his own pre. “I think about you a lot when I masturbate, fuck, thinking about you at all gets me hard.”

Billy blinks slowly, wanting to meet Steve’s gaze but finds it impossible to look away from how Steve’s hand moves a bit faster. He removes his own hand from the bulge in his jeans and grips the armrests of the chair.

“Do you ever finger yourself when you think of me?”

Steve licks his lips at that, and smiles with certain intent, although Billy doesn’t notice as he’s mesmerised as always by the way Steve touches his own throbbing prick.

“Not always, but whenever I do finger myself, I only think of you.”

“Show me,” Billy demands without hesitation - softly, but with no hint of ‘if you want to.’

But Steve wants to. His breath hitches at the stern tone to Billy’s words, the restraint in his movement clear as he slows down and eases his grip.

“You want me to finger myself in front of you, here, in my father’s office, on his expensive couch?” Steve asks, incredulously, feigning reluctance, yet doesn’t stop the now lazy caress of his lengthy cock, keeps smiling, stays posing on his side.

Billy sits silent, doesn’t respond right away, instead he pulls up a small, inconspicuous, clear plastic bottle from the pocket of his shirt, and tosses it onto the couch.

“Yes.”

Steve looks at it; there’s no labels or text or anything, really the most boring and ordinary little container, but there is no doubt in his mind what it is.

“How do you want me?” he asks and finally meets with Billy’s eyes, a fire there burning hotter than the sun could ever dream of.

“However you do it when you’re alone - when I’m not here to fuck you into your mattress. Show me just how badly you want my thick cock.”

And as is often done in situations where words aren’t needed anymore, Steve simply bites his lip, keeps the bottle firm in his grasp, and gets up on his knees. He turns around on the couch, angling his perfect ass towards where Billy sits patiently like a statue, then bends forward; arching his back and spreading himself before his audience to grant a good look of everything. His leaking prick hanging between his legs, hole exposed fully.

“Fuck, Steve…” Billy nearly gasps at the view - didn’t expect to be this affected by it as he shuffles around in his seat, almost overwhelmed by the urge to just shove his tongue through Steve’s rim and eat him out till he’s cumming and crying. Billy adjusts the taut fabric of his jeans before settling in his place.

The cap of the bottle pops off loudly, lube drips onto Steve’s fingers, and with a careful motion, as to not waste a single drop, he brings his hand behind himself. He runs three digits flat and slick over his entrance, getting himself proper wet, staring straight at how attentively Billy watches, the self control damn impressive as those bluest of eyes twitch at the sight of Steve slipping in his middle finger.

Steve coos and keens, perhaps a bit excessive, perhaps egged on by the way Billy’s knuckles turn white as he strangles the leather armrests. He holds one hand on the back of the couch to keep himself steady as he quickly finds an all too pleasant rhythm that leaves him craving more.

Billy hasn’t been this turned on, this painfully erect, since the first time he saw someone play with themselves, back when he was 13 and stole a porn tape from a thrift store in Cali. He still has it hidden away, mostly for sentimental reasons now, because nothing can compare to watching Steve finger himself open, moaning and dripping worse when he adds a second finger.

“Ah-h, mmh- Billy,” Steve teases with his name on that lascivious tongue.

And every sound that escapes makes Billy’s lust boil hotter, bubbling under his skin, the urge to touch like a strong current pulling him under. Touch himself, touch Steve.

It takes all of his strength not to stand up, close the short distance between them and drive in two fingers past that gorgeous clenching ring of muscle, opening up Steve faster so that Billy can fuck him hard into the leather of daddy’s dear couch, press his face against the cushions and have him cumming in less than a minute.

Steve pushes in a third finger, thighs trembling as he moans out, “Shit, oh-” with an overt shudder running through him as he hits just the right spot.

“Feel good, baby?” Billy asks softly, voice husky and smooth, as he unbuttons his shirt slowly.

“S-so good, ah-” Steve’s prick leaks onto the seat, between his knees, fingers pumping fervently in and out leaves him writhing as he abandons any sense of rhythm, and Billy recognizes the way he’s calling out, cursing, close to mumbling his words.

Knows that it won’t be too long now.

“Fuck, Billy! Billy- Billy-”

“Yeah?” Billy groans out, pleased with how erotic his name can sound when it comes from such a pretty mouth.

“I’m- I’m close.” Fingers go as deep as they can, as quick as they can, it’s almost kinda impressive how rapidly he moves those digits, and it all goes to show that this might be something he does more frequently than originally suggested.

Billy unbuckles his belt, flicks free the button of his jeans, and lets the zipper run loose, immediately bringing some sense of relief to his own pent-up, aching cock. He then removes his hands again, one elbow on the armrest, chin in hand as he continues to simply leer at how Steve fingers himself, how his brows are pulled high and tight, how his eyes can barely stay open as they fight the urge to roll back.

“Think you can cum untouched like this?” he asks, impatience apparent in his rumbling tone.

“N-no, fuck, ah-h-” Steve cries and bucks his hips onto his fingers.

“Hmm…” Billy hums like he’s dissatisfied with that response. “I’ve seen you do it before.”

“Mmhn, ahh, yes, yes- in your ha-ands, not- not on my own,” Steve whines and meets Billy’s gaze with all too sincere eyes.

And fuck if that doesn’t make Billy’s full erection kick and leak in its entrapment - to know that he can make King Steve cum on his fingers or dick alone is empowering, strokes his ego just right.

“Fuck, Stevie, baby,” Billy growls with exposed teeth all predatory and lecherous. "Touch yourself. Cum for me, all over daddy's expensive leather couch."

Steve doesn't waste time before he brings his other hand to his weeping prick, and as he wraps his fingers around it to eagerly jerk himself, Billy grunts lightly as his own cock twitches with overwhelming jealousy.

It really doesn't take more than a few strokes till Steve buries his face against the backrest, crying out loud as he moves his fingers hard and precise, back arching in the most beautiful curve, spilling all over the dark seat as he pumps himself dry of every drop, thighs visibly tensing and quivering.

“Gorgeous,” Billy breathes out, convinced that his grip on the armrests will soon tear the leather apart, his underwear completely soaked with pre.

Steve’s arms fall till his palms rest against the leather seat, his entire being pulsating and shivering with every heavy breath, sounding like he just ran a marathon. But as he moves to change his position, perhaps get more comfortable, Billy intervenes-

“Didn’t say you could move,” there’s barely a hint of play to his tone, “Stay just like that for me.”

So Steve does just that - shuffles around a bit on his knees to kneel better, swallows thickly, and hangs his head low to look at Billy from between his legs.

Billy in turn finally pulls his pained cock free with a loud and telling grunt of relief, the air almost sharp in its coldness, but it’s soothed by his firm hand running up and down his slick erection. Already he knows that this won’t last nearly as long as he wants it to; feels it in the way the coil twists pliantly, thighs and abs flexing at his every move.

“Mmh- shit, arrh, baby I- I want you to show me- fuck- spread your ass out for me.”

And Steve obeys all too readily, moving his hands back to grab a full cheek in both to spread them as far apart as he can, exposing his fluttering hole, puffy and well loved.

The sight of it makes Billy’s hips buck off of his seat, an interrupting moan punches the air out of his lungs, his cock spurting pre something horribly, the sounds of his jerking motion obscene and loud and overwhelming as he grips himself harder- tight like how Steve’s ass would feel right now, wrapped around him, sucking him in, milking him dry, right here in his father’s office, soiling the leather, defiling the high and mighty importance with moans of the heir’s hole getting ravished-

Just the mere thought of what Billy might get to do with Steve in every single room of this house, all goddamn 12 of them, has him cumming in near record time - a loud and unexpected orgasm that crashes through him as he lifts up and into his hand, cursing loudly towards the ceiling, cum shooting all the way up his chest to clash with the sweaty tan skin, painting him in white, pumping till he’s sore and lets his cock go with a hiss.

Suddenly so exhausted he could probably fall asleep right here, eyes closed and struggling to catch his breath as he slumps in the chair. That is until hands land on both his knees, squeezing gently and caressing him, and when he opens his eyes to look down there’s Steve, kneeling between Billy’s legs, a slight smile and the most adoring gaze, a glorious vision that shoots straight through Billy’s heart and overstimulated cock simultaneously.

Before Billy gets to make the next move, Steve crawls closer, brings out his tongue to run it hot and flat over Billy’s flaccid dick, pulling forth a pained, “shit, ah-h!” then continues with soft kisses up his stomach, across his abs, till he reaches where cum has been splashed across Billy’s pecks. And under the watchful stare of blue skies, Steve lets out his tongue once more, licks a stripe through the white pool and swallows with an almost delighted little hum.

A whole show that Billy will play over and over in his head those few nights Steve isn’t around.

And Steve finishes his climb straddling Billy’s thighs, kissing him deeply and passionately, as if he’s not satiated quiet yet, mixing the taste of them with dancing tongues, sweet and salty and strong still with an aftertaste of scotch.

#Harringrove #My Writing #lemon #part 2 of that one request I responded to a few days ago #2.4k words #I should start tagging how many words #so that people know how long it is before clicking #Read more

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liam-cadmus · 4 years ago

Text

Sasuke thumps his head on the table, annoyed at the cooing he can hear from upstairs. He straightens up before letting the wet rag fall on the counter, moving to the sink to wash his hands, wincing at Ino’s very loud squeal. He grumbles, before walking around the island, walking to the bottom of the stairs. “Ino, shut the fuck up!” he says calmly in a loud voice, listening to Ino closing the door upstairs and appearing on the top of the stairs with a journal? book? on her arms, with some pictures haphazardly balanced on top.

She walks— sprints down the stairs, sidestepping him and dumping the pile on a table, her nails digging to his arm. “Sasuke, you didn’t tell me you were childhood sweethearts with Hinata!” she exclaims, making him splutter in disbelief, cheeks coloring in bemusement. “What do you mean? I never—” he caught sight of the pictures, before groaning, hiding his face in his palms. He doesn’t remember, and he didn’t expect that Ino will see this. He thought Ino was the better choice to help him with organizing his house, rather than Naruto and Sakura.

“We were not sweethearts. We were just friends,” he enunciates, tone slightly defensive, “and besides, it broke off when the massacre happened.” he added glumly. Ino sighs out in exasperation, with pity? amusement? exhaustion? before flicking him on the forehead, spreading the pictures in a line. His brows raise when he caught some glimpses of Shikamaru’s hair, looking at Ino expectantly. “My mom was genin teammates with their dads. Playdates.”

She huffs forlornly, “You three are hopeless.” He just gives her a shrug, watching over her shoulder as she looks at the pictures one by one. The pile doesn’t have that much pictures, mostly drawings with crayons with scribbled names or half-assed drawings, some with neat lines and proper colors and some mostly empty and scarce. She giggles at one, seeing a wobbly stroke of brown crayon, and small writing in the corner saying : Shika fell asleep again. - Hinata and Sasuke.

He rolls his eyes, failing to hide the smile slipping on his lips as Ino plucks a picture of Mikoto, Hiashi and Shikaku with their three kids in front, ranging around 2-3 years old, wobbly standing and holding unto each other with tight grips. “You were adorable,” she teases, hand hovering over his chubby cheeks and doe onyx eyes, making him scowl, “I was not.”

“You were.” she laughs, “although you look like an cat hissing a fit whenever you’re scowling.” It was a running joke with Team 7, who at this point are used to his glares and scowls, his intimidation tactic failing, instead looking like one of the cats in the Uchiha compound. He nudges her shoulder instead, Ino taking another picture , moving platinum blonde hair away from her face, blue eyes lighting up in mischief. A shy Hinata peeks from behind him, with a dozing Shikamaru sitting on the ground on his other side, leaning on him. He has a wide smile, hand resting on the tiny brown ponytail.

Ino snickers, as he takes another one, seeing the three of them wearing kimonos walking hand-by-hand on the streets, the orange tint of the lanterns reflecting off of their dark hair. There’s another one, with the camera close to their faces, a lavender eye and upturned pink lips on the left corner, with Shikamaru’s hair popping up from the bottom, Sasuke’s eye appearing on the right. “You were such cute kids.” she comments, Sasuke finding it hard to refuse the compliment. Maybe, he isn’t, but Hinata and Shikamaru definitely were— are. He flushes at the realization, averting his eyes and stacking the papers instead.

He tugs on Ino’s shirt, making the woman stand, before relenting to his request, going up the stairs. “Fine, fine, I’ll get going with organizing it.” He smirks, “I’ll let you shift through them later, just finish them first.” She perks up, before darting up, the enthusiastic “Yes!” echoing. He doesn’t get why Ino is excited about it, after all, she was also Shikamaru and Hinata’s bestfriend, she should’ve seen their childhood photos. “I never saw yours, or ones with the three of you. They didn’t even tell me you were childhood sweethearts!” she answers his spoken out loud thought, he glowers grumpily at the sweethearts mentioned, before pocketing his hands.

He wanders back to the kitchen, taking the discarded rag and wiping the marble counter, moving down to the bottom cabinets. He lets himself hum and get lost in his thoughts, efficiently barreling through his old essentials, throwing away the long used cleaning supplies. He dusts his pants off, swiping at the dust and cobwebs clinging on his arms, before washing his hands carefully. He runs a wet hand through his hair, the black strands staying out of his face as he dries his hands off.

The rest of the house is already clean and organized, including the Itachi’s old bedroom which was surprisingly in good condition, the awards and clothes well kept and free of dust. His old bedroom was easy to discard of the old stuff toys and smaller clothing, changing the muted blue bedding for dark grey, softer ones, and refilling his closet with clothes that do fit him, with his now better color scheme. He absently places the new tea cups on the counter before placing the kettle over open flame, taking the bags of groceries to the fridge while waiting.

He places the tin of cookies beside the cups, as he fills the fridge with fresh cartons of milk, alongside the newly bought perishable goods. He washes the vegetables, plucking a cherry tomato and eating it while placing the fruits in the basket. He pours hot water as the tea bag bobs on the surface, opening the cookie tin to get a shortbread, nibbling on it as he listens to the fumbling from upstairs, heard from the kitchen. He stays quiet as Ino budges the door open loudly, stomping down the stairs, the wood creaking loud as she appears in the doorway, papers flying in her wake.

She looks at him with a determinedly grim expression, offering a smile— that looks more like a grimace, before waving two scrolls in her hand. His mismatched eyes narrow in instinct, the gold sheen on the white paper and the chakra presence of his parents intact on the delicate sheet. “What is that supposed to be—?” he asks hesitantly, not liking the information about to be told. “I don’t know, you tell me. I just found them in a box named Sasuke, with a seal on it.”

A box with my name on it? he thinks incredulously, mouth opening to ask before he shuts it closed, taking the offered scrolls instead. His brows knitted together in concentration as Ino takes the full cup of tea, taking a chocolate cookie daintily. He channels his chakra through the frisky seal, before it opens, his parent’s chakra hitting him full-force. He unfurls the top with bated breath, meticulously written words with precise and sure strokes of ink in beautiful handwriting— his mother’s appear on the sheer reflective white paper. It’s a marriage contract, he realizes, as his eyes follow the words written, the stark black ink blurring against the blinding white.

Marriage contract. With the Hyuugas. Ensuring the bond, and making peace. No more fights. His Sharingan whirl in horror, even if he is inwardly pleased, a pink blush appearing on his cheeks. He blinks, each time dragging on longer, before he reads the last part, seeing the Hyuuga Hinata written in Hiashi Hyuuga’s writing, blocky straight letters against Fugaku’s neatly scribbled one. The date is stamped with the Hyuuga and Uchiha stamp, as he releases a tense breath, shaking fingers following the chakra infused signature of his father.

He stays there staring at his mother’s writing, the cursive handwriting and the loops making him reminiscent of his own, ‘pretty’ handwriting. He exhales through clenched teeth, before pushing it aside, Ino taking it from his hands. He focuses on the other one, blowing the hair out of his face while his chakra unlocks the seal. Ino lets out a surprised ‘ah’ of understanding, munching quietly while she mouths some words, her chakra simmering under her skin. “So it is a marriage contract,” she murmurs wistfully, rolling it to a scroll, “I had my suspicions.”

“I assume you already seen one of these?” he asks, while his eyes start to skim through a different handwriting, tilting his head on the swiftly written words, the ends of some letters dragging lazily. He inhales deeply in realization, Ino letting out some sort of squeak, her eyes widening. “That’s Yoshino Nara’s writing.” He winces, before pulling the curled bottom of the scroll, patting it flat on the counter as he catches on his name on the bottom. Again. With Shikamaru’s name on the side.

Ino whistles in a low voice, amusedly looking at the scrolls side-by-side. “You have a lot on your plate, Uchiha.” He groans, pinching his nose in annoyance before whining pitifully, “Why me.” Ino smirks. “Stop being dramatic, I’m sure your parents wouldn’t contract Itachi with a kid your age. And it seemed like you were being prepared as a heir for emergency situations.” He levels her with a flat stare, “Well, it worked out, because I somehow became the clan head.” he answers with his dry humor.

“Stop with your deprecating shit Uchiha, and find out a way with these.” she points to the scrolls, while he leans on the counter, resting his head on his palms. His elbow digs on the hard surface, but he pays it no mind, biting his lip. “Are these still true? I mean, isn’t Hinata and Shikamaru engaged right now?” he hisses, remembering the two lovebirds recently declaring it. He turns a hopeless glance at Ino, “Can I turn this down? Since my parents aren’t technically here to make it true?”

“Sasuke, you could ask Shikaku-san and Hiashi-san about it.” Ino admits, “Although I’m not sure how this will work considering it’s a chakra-focused marriage contract.” He blows a shaky breath out, before dropping his head on his arms. He mumbles, the sound muffled on his arms, while Ino leans closer to hear the muted, quiet voice. “I don’t want to ruin their marriage.”

“You aren’t ruining it, Sasuke, you didn’t even know,” she insists, frowning at the tiredly spoken admission. “Maybe they can consider you?” she tries to lighten it, only receiving hunched shoulders and Sasuke burying his face further in his folded arms. The state of the Uchiha is depressing, the male still deep in his after-war depression, even if others are already moving on. Not that Ino can blame him, the people around him constantly crushing him down with whispers and insults behind his back, some of them failing to hide their disdain.

She sighs, rubbing at her childhood friend’s arm, listening to Sasuke calming down his breathing, his chakra tense and tight like a string. She became Sasuke’s confidant, after his time in the cells, trusting her enough to let her look through his memories. She soothes him, until his chakra coils uncurls into light flickering. Sasuke rubs at his eyes in exhaustion, temples pounding and his eyes aching. She doesn’t open her mouth, instead helping Sasuke clean up the used cups and tin, wiping off the crumbs and droplets of tea on the counter, before taking the scrolls and placing it on the table.

She arranges the pictures and drawings, placing the scrolls on the side, making sure to not let it roll off. “You know, you’re allowed to be loved, Sasuke.” she smiles, as Sasuke’s eyes dart to her in a glance, “You’re not unlovable, you just grew up unloved.” Dark mismatched eyes cloud over as she pats his shoulder, “I’m here, your team’s always here. You’re not alone. Not anymore.” she presses her cheek on his, “You’re like my little brother now.”

Sasuke huffs a amused breath, “I don’t fit in the little, in your description.” he says, but hugs her nonetheless, letting himself be vulnerable for once. “You’re always gonna be like a little brother, you don’t have the bones to be an older one.” Sasuke turned misty eyes to her, “I guess not.”

“You’ve always have been. Now, I’m gonna go and let you settle in. Just send me a hawk, Chiya if possible, when you want or need help, okay?” she says, while she tightens the laces on her shoes, the door ajar. He nods, “I’ll think about it. Thank you, Ino.” She flashes him a smirk, making him grunt in amusement, as she flips her hair over her shoulder. “Ta-ta.”

The door slams shut, as the tea cups dry off on the rack, while he returns them in their proper places, eye trailing over to the scroll on his way to the stairs. He stops by the table, thumb grazing the seals while he sits down, letting his cheek sit atop his hand. His eyes reads the words again, repeating it over and over his head, dazed. He takes two empty sheets of paper, taking a brush and an ink pot before settling down on the chair.

He writes with clear lines, signing the letter with a flourish. He seals the scrolls with his chakra, stamping an Uchiha crest on the outside before summoning two hawks, tying it securely in their claws. Ishi and Aya stays on his shoulders, rubbing their wings on his duck butt of a hair affectionately before flying out the opened window, flapping of wings disappearing into the night. Hopefully, they receive his invitation, and talk about the contract.

No, Shikaku did not die. And yes, Sasuke does have two intact arms. Bless me, I wrote this at 10 pm, and finished in 2 hours. I need sleep. I think I forgot to emphasize that Sasuke has a Rinnegan-

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jtrbluv · 5 years ago

Text

die for you | jjk

pairing: jungkook x reader

genre: angst, songfic

word count: 3.4k

rating: PG-13

warnings: intoxication, harassment, fighting

you're scared to be lonely 'specially in the night i'm scared that i'll miss you happens every time

song: die for you-the weeknd

exes!au

A/N: hi! this is a revamp of the very first fic i’ve ever written on this blog. i decided to do this because i am revamping and scrapping my original idea of a songfic overall! if you’ve been on my blog before or if you haven’t, i originally wrote songfics so that the storyline would flow along with the lyrics of the song which i realized soon thereafter that it was impossible because we all read at different speeds and it greatly hindered the creative process in general. now i decided to just solely come up with stories out of inspiration of songs. i highly recommend listening to the song while reading!

The pungent yet all too familiar liquid burns against the back of your throat as you feel it gushing deeper into your system. Absentmindedly, you slam the shotglass back onto the wooden counter, earning a disconcerted look from the bartender that had been serving you for the past hour and a half. You lick the remaining alcohol off of your lips, relishing in the way the fluid tasted against your tongue.

The alcohol buzzed in your system, leaving you in a piddling daze as you rest your cheek in the palm of your left hand. Your remaining hand fiddled with the shot glass, face contorting into a deep glower at the empty contents, hoping that the alcohol would replenish itself without you having to empty your wallet. You avert your eyes to behind the counter, eyeing the different taps they had in store along with the selection behind the glass cabinet. The bartender that had been supplying you all night came back into your periphery, noticing the familiar thick streaks of velvety red that resided beside his natural onyx locks. He was scrubbing the counter a few feet away from you, the sleeves of his white button-up rolled up to his forearms. What was his name again? Sam? John?

You obnoxiously clear your throat causing him to look up from what he was doing, “Can I get another shot?”

“I know I might be a bartender and all, but don’t you think you should slow down a bit?” he asks, brows furrowed in both bewilderment and concern. His nametag read San.

You toss your eyes back in irritation at his words, “I’ve done this before, I think I know my limits.”

He presses his lips into a thin line before sighing out in defeat, grabbing the near-empty bottle behind him as he fills up your glass back up to your satisfaction.

“See that wasn’t so hard, was it?” you indecently spit back just as he tips off the glass. He scoffs at your remark, setting the bottle back on the counter behind as he goes back to his task.

You down the glass in one swig, nose scrunching at the bitter taste on your tongue and the stinging sensation that accompanied it as it traveled down your throat once more. You return once again to your state of solitude and melancholy. This time you twist around in your seat, eyes trailing to the whatever was beyond the door of the bar. The building itself was located in a generally busy area of the city, made obvious by the frequent passerbys and occasional onlookers that would peek in through the window.

The soft glow of the lights that were emitting from neighboring buildings magnified the growing buzz of alcohol in your system as they began to appear hazy. It had an endearing and seemingly familiar twinkle them which made you visualize the irises of a boy who once had your heart. Oh, how you wished to be able to see him smile again—the way his eyes would morph into two crescent moons accentuated by the whisker-like wrinkles that would etch themselves onto his temples. His mouth would stretch into a wide D-shaped curve, his slightly larger front teeth coming into view the more you made him laugh. The warmth that would encompass your whole body when he would wrap his muscular arms around your much smaller frame—he made you feel protected, at ease, at home. The feeling of the soft, pillowy flesh of his lips against your own—pigmented by the strawberry chapstick he loved so goddamn much because he said it tasted like candy. The vision is short-lived when the deep timbre of someone’s voice pulls you out of your daze.

“You seem to be having a lot of fun by yourself,” he whispers into your ear, his breath fanning over your cheek as he stands a little, actually a lot closer than you’d like.

Disgusted at his mere presence you send a scowl his way while moving to another seat to create more distance. Not deterred in the slightest, he slides into the seat next to you—using his foot to turn your chair so you’d be facing him.

You’d be lying if you said he wasn’t attractive. A coy smirk adorned his well-made features as he intently stared back at you, wanting more after you had made obvious that you didn’t. The honey-like hue of his irises juxtaposed the darkness of the glare he was giving you. He wore a form-fitting black button-up—the first few buttons unhinged at the top on purpose to show off the silver chain that adorned his collarbones. The leather jacket he wore over it accentuating the curves of his muscles. You tear your focus away from him, turning back to the original position of your chair so you’d be facing behind the counter.

“Playing hard to get I see, well I’m always in for a good game,” he pretentiously states, the smirk widening onto his features as he inches closer to you.

“Really, you couldn’t think of anything better than that,” you say as a giggle involuntarily erupts from your throat. His smirk morphs into a grimace of disdain at your reaction. The grin on your lips slowly dissipates when you take a glance at his overcast features.

“Sorry, I’m not in the mood for company,” you deadpan, taking the shotglass in your hand as you scanned behind the counter to look for the bartender, hoping to exchange your tiny glass for a much bigger one.

His hand come in contact with your own, fingers wrapping around the glass and pulling it out of your reach, “I didn’t ask for your permission.”

Your breath hitches as you gasp in shock at his sudden action, taken aback by his intrusiveness. You slide out of the chair you were sitting in—the buzz of the alcohol abruptly fleeting your body out of pure abhorrence of the sleazy man standing in front of you.

“I refuse to deal with this type of bullshit right now and people like you.”

You hastily grab your wallet out of your purse, digging to find a reasonable tip to give the bartender who undeservingly had the displeasure of serving you for the past two hours now. Setting the money down on the counter next to San, you give him an apologetic smile to hopefully make up for the migraine-inducing irritation you’ve most likely given him. He nods in return with a small grin, taking the money and slipping it into the back pocket of his jeans while leaving the counter to start bussing empty tables.

Turning on your heel, your senses set straight on leaving the bar and going back to the comforts of your bed. As you begin to make your way out the door, a hand snakes around your wrist, yanking you back and causing you to stumble over your own feet—eliciting a string of curses to spew from your lips. Your head rams into their rather toned chest, and as you detach yourself from their body you notice the thick fabric of their leather jacket and the glint of light coming from the silver chain resting on their exposed collarbones. You quickly put the pieces together, craning your neck upward to take a glimpse at the man’s face and recognizing that it was the imbecile who was still refusing to leave you alone. Out of instinct, you bring your hands up to where your head had just made contact with his chest and pushed him with as much force as you could muster. Alarmed, he staggers backwards, nearly tripping over the barstool that he was leaning against until he slams his hand on the counter to steady himself. You unknowingly take a few steps towards the door of the bar, keeping your eyes glued to the man in front of you. An inaudible noise leaves his lips as his focus shifts back towards you. Eyes narrowing as he recalibrates his focus, the knit in his brows as prominent as ever as his irises started to morph into a darker shade of ebony. The corner of his lip slowly starts to curl upward—your hand reaching out to grasp the wood of the doorframe on its own accord.

He swiftly pushes himself from the barstool, readjusting his clothes as he momentarily tears his focus away from you. Taking advantage of the few seconds, you whip your head around and take a quick glance outside and instinctively, you book it.

The wind howls and nips at your cheeks as you bolt down the street. The fabric of your jacket ripping against the currents of the wind as you weave in and out of city folk—most of their expressions painted with shock as they halt in their tracks and scurry aside as they start to notice you sprint full force down their direction.

A loud, discernable and gravelly “HEY!” erupts from what you would was the aforesaid man of the night. The echo of his footsteps and their increasing pace could be heard in rhythm with your own.You dismiss it almost immediately, continuing to shoulder others without apology and turning corners in hopes of losing him.

The longer you run—the more the adrenaline begins to seep out of your body—being replaced by fatigue along with the reality that your body was starting to cave. Your lungs start to burn and your throat becomes painfully dry, forcing you to have to take deep gulps before you flat out couldn’t breathe at all. The muscles in your calves and shins on fire and tensing underneath you reminding you that the last experience you ever had of running had come from high school P.E. class.

You whip your head around to survey the area behind you before darting around yet another corner and continuing your pursuit.

As you adjust your focus back to the streets in front of you, you collide into the chest of yet another man. You substantially knock him over, causing him to almost fall back but he picks up his feet from under him, regaining his stance while holding onto your forearms and you, unconsciously holding onto his for dear life as well.

While muttering inaudible apologies to the man, you begin dusting off your pants before reaching up to dust the fabric of his black hoodie. His hand wraps around your wrist as you start to do so. You freeze in your tracks. The action this time around is much more gentle, almost gingerly in a way. Your eyes trail to the slender fingers that wrapped around your wrist before moving to his face before finally settling into his eyes. The hazy, twinkling specks of light all the more visible in his orbs.

“Y/N?-“

The sound of heavy, quickened footsteps pull you out of your trance. Before the man could finish his words, you yank him aside to the coincidentally located brick-walled alleyway. You couldn’t even consider it an alleyway—being just the perfect width to fit both of your bodies and deep enough to keep you both hidden from sight. On a whim, you motion him to stand in front of you so his body would encompass the opening. He had an all black hoodie and sweatpant ensemble going on, and you hoped that with the poor lighting you two would remain unnoticed.

You both remain there, silent and still. Your back pressed up against the brick wall, hands clutching onto the fabric of his hoodie while nestling your head into his chest. He simply stood there in bewilderment at the chain of events that had just occurred. He would have never imagined that your first encounter since your breakup would be like this.

He decides to break the silence first, “Y/N, is everything okay?”

“Um, well” you whisper back in response, finally detaching yourself from him, “it’s kind of a long story. I was at a bar and there was this creepy guy who just wouldn’t leave me alone,” you explain while peering over his shoulder.

“I’m sorry, but can you please stay with me,” you quietly murmur while looking up at him, “for the time being, I mean. I think he’s still looking for me.”

He gets a small whiff of your alcohol-scented breath, but your expression and tone made it clear that you were sober for the most part. “Of course, I mean, did you really think I was just gonna leave you here?” he asks you while chuckling under his breath, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

Before you could react to both his question and his actions, you detect the same gravelly voice that had caused you to land in this mess in the first place. Your eyes widen in fear— trailing to the aforementioned man standing in front of you. Jungkook notices your sudden change in expression and his eyes tread the same path—staring daggers into the man without delay as rage began to pulse through his veins.

He takes a step forward, one of his hands coming in contact with your body as he promptly motions you to move behind him.

“I’ll say this once, and I’ll say this nicely,” Jungkook begins, voice low—like subdued thunder, a tone you had never once heard come from his lips, “if you lay another hand on her, you are going to regret it. And I’ll make sure of it.” You could feel him quivering with anger beneath your fingertips and you could swear you could hear your own heart hammer against the walls of your chest.

The man smirks, not affected in the slightest at Jungkook’s words as he steps towards him. His arm writhes out of your grip as he slams his fist square into the nose of the man’s face. He stumbles back, wiping off the crimson red blood that began to trickle out of his nostrils. The smirk is quickly replaced with a smolder of rage and resentment—cocking his head to the side as he spits out more blood, still reeling from the previous hit before he lunges towards Jungkook, anger visibly spiking within him. You quickly sidestep as Jungkook’s back comes in contact with the brick wall, the wind visibly knocked out of him.

Overcome with both distress and rage, you run to the man’s back bringing your hand up to his face and clawing him in the eyes, disarming him. With your other free hand, you grab the flesh of his swollen nose, curling your fingers as much as you could—digging your fingernails and twisting the tendon. A guttural groan escapes his throat as he spirals towards you, pushing you into the pavement and kicking you in the ribs. The shrill scream you emit causes a wave of fury to stream through Jungkook’s bones—he surges towards the man, vigorously slamming into his body with full force right into the hood of a car. You hear the man’s head come in contact with the metal with a loud thump as his body crumbles to the ground. Jungkook’s body towered over his as the man desperately swung, arms flailing as the two wrestled on the cement.

Running on pure, unfiltered anger, Jungkook smashes his fist into the man’s jaw—the bone-shattering noise making you wince. The man ceases action as he lies there unconscious. Jungkook removes himself from the man, groaning in pain as he attempts to stand up. He sees you standing in front of him, streams of tears running down your cheeks—clutching the spot where the man had kicked you. Your eyes retract to his form, scurrying over to him as you carefully help him stand up. Wrapping his arm over your shoulder, you guide him as he limps towards the brick wall and leans against it. You cautiously slide out of his hold, kneeling down to the unconscious man and pressing two fingers to the crook of his neck—the detectable beats alerting you that his pulse was still intact. The sound of police sirens and red and blue flashing lights come into view as one officer gets down from his car. You briefly describe the situation starting from the altercation at the bar to the current disposition of it all—an ambulance taking him to the nearest hospital where he would later get arrested. You and Jungkook both reject their offer of taking you two to the hospital despite your pleas for Jungkook to go, considering the cuts and bruises that were littered across his face and neck. He assured them they were minor so they let you two go without further dispute.

“I’m driving you home. I don’t care what you say,” you huff out, one of his arms draped over your shoulder as you guided him into the passenger seat of his car. To your surprise, he relents and gives you a small smile while digging through his pocket for his keys.

The drive back to his apartment is fairly silent, yet comfortable nonetheless. You guide him the whole way to his apartment despite his own efforts to prove that he was okay before groaning involuntarily in pain. You finally reach his apartment, fishing for the keys in your pocket as you unlock the door, setting him on his couch. Recalling the layout of his apartment, you find a first aid kit in one of his cabinets and return to his side. You begin to lay out the contents of the kit out onto his coffee table, ripping open the package of antiseptic wipes before cleaning the cuts on his face. He grimaces, flinching at the sudden stinging sensation.

“Oh my god,” you flinch in sync with him, “sorry, I should’ve given you a warning,” you mutter apologetically.

“No, it’s okay,” he responds, giving you a reassuring smile. You bite your lip before continuing, more gently this time.

Your hands meekly drop to your sides as you let out a deep sigh, “Jungkook, I don’t even know what to say,” you murmur softly, tears brimming at the corners of your eyes, “I’m so sorry.”

He gingerly wipes a tear away with his thumb, “Don’t be. I would never let anyone hurt you Y/N, regardless of how you feel about me.”

“For a split second, I thought you killed the guy,” you say jokingly, causing a chuckle to leave both of your lips.

“I’d gladly both kill and die for you Y/N,” he states matter-of-factly, a small grin lacing his features.

You take a moment to process his words, thinking of what to reply with.

“Thinking back, it’s kinda ironic. How this all turned out,” you admit, thinking out loud.

“What do you mean?”

“Before he approached me in the bar, I actually happened to be thinking about you,” you confess, looking up at him to see his reaction.

“About me?”

“Yeah,” you huff out, diverting your gaze away from him, taking a brief moment to process the words you were about to say, “I miss you. I miss you a lot. And I miss what we had.”

Time and awareness had stopped in a collision of senses when his lips met yours. The coppery taste of his blood mixed with his strawberry chapstick is what you notice first—the taste lingering on your mouth. A wave of warmth spread throughout your body at the sudden contact—tingles running down your spine as you relished in the pure feeling of his lips being on yours again. It’s as if he leaves imprints every time his fingers come in contact with your skin, trailing your jaw before settling on your neck—fingers entangled slightly into your hair. Both of your lips moved together in accord—the all consuming, crashing tides of familiarity, longing and unspoken words that didn’t need to be voiced out loud to be known. It was all there. Mapped out. Clear as day. Vulnerable as ever.

Your lips detach, foreheads still in contact as he graces your vision with the sight of two crescent moons lacing his features. And in that moment you knew—the hazy, twinkling specks that consumed his eyes. They were undying. As undying as the stars that provided light for the dark abyss of the night sky. And as undying as the feelings you two had for one another.

MASTERLIST

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love-and-monsters · 5 years ago

Text

Norek the Naga

Male naga X gender neutral reader, 3,322 words.

You have just gotten a new job at a bakery and become rather smitten with the naga who works the register.

You took a deep breath, stepped into the sweet-scented bakery, and were immediately greeted by the sight of the largest naga you had ever seen.

His human half was roughly normal sized, but you could see his massive mottled lower half curled behind the glass display counters. Part of him was even draped over a display case, coiling slightly over the top of it. You couldn’t even see where his tail-tip was, he was so massive and coiled in on himself.

“Hey there,” he said in a drawling southern accent. His hair was dark and looked like he’d gone long enough without a haircut that it was starting to get out of hand. There was a lazy, but pleasant expression on his face. “What can I do you for?”

“Um.” You looked down at the email on your phone. “I’m looking for, uh, Marz- Um, Marziana?”

His eyebrows lifted and he leaned away from the wooden counter. “Hey!” He called into the back of the bakery. “Your interview’s here!”

There was an indistinct yell from the back and he nodded before slumping back over the counter. “She’ll be up in a minute.” He looked you up and down. “Are you new ‘round here?”

“No,” you said. He titled his head at you, interest sparking in his yellow eyes.

“Then how come I’ve never seen you around?” he asked.

“Usually if I want something baked, I do it myself,” you said. “I don’t stop be bakeries all that often.”

There was a clicking noise and a woman stepped out from the back. She was dark-skinned and middle aged, hair tied up into a tight bun. From the waist down, she was a scorpion.

“You must be my ten o’clock,” she said. “Sit anywhere you like, and we can chat.”

You picked one of the little cozy tables toward the wall and sat with her. She flipped open a file and read through it. “Says here you’ve got a pretty good degree, but not a lot of experience.”

“No, I graduated recently. I mean, I have no official experience, but I’ve been baking for a while.” She nodded, expression inscrutable. You glanced around a little nervously. The naga was leaning over the counter, eyes on you. When you caught his gaze, he gave you a thumbs-up.

After going through a few more questions, mostly about what you enjoyed baking and what you struggled with, she flipped the file closed. “An interview is good and all, but not as useful in a practical job.” She stood and gestured for you to follow her into the back. When you passed the counter, you had to be careful not to step on the naga’s coils.

There were only a few other people working in the back, and she led you over to a clear space. She slid a recipe in front of you and gestured to a cabinet of ingredients. “Make this.”

You looked at the recipe. It was for scorpion tails, the bakery’s specialty. Essentially, they were cream puffs piped into scorpion-like shapes. You rolled your sleeves up and started to bake.

The scorpion tails you produced weren’t as good as the ones the bakery usually made. They weren’t piped properly and the flavor wasn’t quite what it should have been. Marziana tried one, expression completely unreadable.

“I have another interview tomorrow,” she said. “I’ll call you if you got the job.”

It wasn’t quite what you hoped for, but it was better than what you had feared. You stepped out of the back of the bakery and almost ran into the naga.

“Here.” He pressed a white bag into your hands. You glanced inside. It was filled with an assortment of cookies.

“This isn’t some kind of consolation prize, is it?” you asked. ,

He laughed. “No. Just a gift.”

“You’re not giving away food again, are you, Norek?” Marziana asked, emerging from the kitchen.

“Take it out of my paycheck,” he said. He winked at you, a pleasant smile on his face.

You left the bakery with one final glance over your shoulder. The cookies were very good, as it turned out. Even if you didn’t get the job, you could see yourself returning to the bakery.

Two days later, you received a phone call from Marziana. “Are you still open to the job?” she asked.

“Yes!” you said eagerly.

“Good. You’ll work from three in the morning to eleven from Wednesday to Sunday. You’ll have most holidays off, but you’ll be expected to work overtime leading up to holidays, as those are our busiest times. Is that acceptable?”

“Yes. Yes!” you said. “When do you want me to come in?”

“Come in tomorrow. I’ll email you some paperwork to sort out and we can finish it up on your first day.”

“Great. I’ll see you then.” The line clicked off and you grinned across your apartment, giddy with joy and relief.

As much as you needed your sleep, you only got into bed a few hours before you needed to rise again. You scrambled out of bed at two and hurriedly pulled yourself together before heading to work.

Marziana was already there, as were a couple other people, one a burly woman you figured was some kind of shapeshifter and a guy you were pretty sure was a vampire. You were introduced and, after filling out some paperwork, got put to work under the watchful eye of Marziana.

“You’ll be on probation for the first two months while you learn. You’ll have to run your creations by other people before they go out in the shop and I may test you on occasion. If you fail, I reserve the right to fire you,” Marziana said. “Does that seem fair?” You nodded. “Good.”

Marziana kept you busy, working flat out until six, when the shop opened. The other bakers stayed in the back while you moved products out to the front. Norek, who had arrived to help open the store, smiled at you as you stacked cupcakes on a display.

“Glad you’re the one who got the job,” he said. “I liked you best out of all the interviews.”

You blinked at him, a little flustered. He offered you a charming smile. “You okay, darlin’?”

“Yep! Great!” You scrambled back into the kitchen and tried to pretend that your cheeks weren’t burning.

That set the tone for most of your interactions in the days that followed. Norek would speak to you, often saying something charming, and you would get flustered and scramble back into the kitchen. You were pretty sure he was doing it to tease you, and you couldn’t say it was a routine you minded.

“That looks good.” You jumped a little as Norek leaned over your shoulder. You were setting a few cinnamon buns that had been carefully shaped into hearts out on the main display. “You make these?”

“I helped,” you said.

“Don’t sell yourself short, sugar. You’ve been doin’ really well.” He grinned at you. “I tried those cinnamon apple cookies you made the other day. They were amazing.”

“Thanks,” you said. “They’re an old family recipe. Well, not that old. My grandma’s. But I’m glad I got to put something of my own out in the store.”

“Mm hm,” he hummed. “Say. I was wonderin’. There’s this real nice restaurant near here that opened a few months back and I’ve been lookin’ for an excuse to go. Would you be interested in coming with me?”

You stared at him like a deer in the headlights. “As… as a date?”

“Sure, sugar. If you’re all right with it.” He flashed you an utterly charming smile and your heart thundered against your ribs.

“I- um.” You took a reflexive step backwards and tripped over the coil of his tail that was on the ground behind you. You slammed against the wood floor hard, momentarily knocking the air out of you.

“Sugar!” Norek leaned over you, concern flashing over his face. “I’m sorry. Are y’ all right?” He stretched his hands out. You clasped them and he tugged you to your feet. He coiled in around himself, ducking his head. “Sorry, darlin’. Sometimes it feels like there’s a little too much of me to fit back here.”

“I should have watched where I was going,” you said hurriedly. “It was my fault. I didn’t hurt you, right?”

“Naw, I’m fine. Takes more’n a little thing like you to hurt me,” he drawled. “Though maybe my pride is a little damaged. Sorry for makin’ you uncomfortable. I know I probably shouldn’t have asked you at work, but we don’t see each other much elsewhere. Forget I asked.”

“You didn’t make me uncomfortable,” you said. “I was just surprised. I didn’t expect to be asked on a date today. But it’s not a no.”

He tilted his head a little, hands folded. “Is it a yes?”

You teetered on the edge of uncertainty, then took a step. “Yes. It’s a yes.”

His smile was so wide it looked like it was straining his cheeks. “Wonderful! I’ll-”

“You’ll plan dates on your own time,” Marziana snapped from the kitchen. You froze, embarrassment flooding you, but Norek seemed unconcerned.

“Here’s my number,” he said, pressing a piece of receipt paper into your hand. “Text me later tonight, all right?” He winked and turned back to work.

It was hard to focus for the rest of the work day, but you managed to please Marziana with your work before leaving for the day. Norek waved at you as you left.

A few hours later, you texted Norek. He responded almost immediately.

Hiya, sugar. You could almost hear his soft voice dripping its gentle, syrupy accent over text. Feeling up for a date on Tuesday?

That works for me, you replied. You texted back quicker than I expected. Aren’t you at work?

Just got off, actually. And would it be embarrassing to tell you I’ve been waiting for your text since you got off?

No. It’s sweet. A warm, fluttering feeling ran from your head to your toes. Does Marziana let you have your phone on you at work?

What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her. I’ll pick you up at six, if that works?

Sure. You smiled down at your phone.

Tuesday couldn’t come soon enough. When the time finally arrived, you couldn’t stop pacing in front of your front door. It was an upscale restaurant, so you were wearing some of your nicer clothes. When you heard a knocking on your door, you were wound taut enough to snap.

You opened the door. Norek was coiled there, a small bundle of roses held in his hand. “Evening, sugar,” he said, extending the bundle toward you. “I figured most people like roses, so…”

“Thank you,” you said, taking the bundle. “I should probably put them in water before we go. You can come in.”

Norek slithered in as you stepped back from the door. He was wearing a simple button-down with a black jacket over it. Despite its simplicity, it hugged his form in a way that seemed designed to draw your eye to his chest. His hair had been somewhat tamed, though there was still a tousled quality to it.

“I have something for you too,” you said, picking up a box from the counter. “It’s not quite roses, but I hope you like it.”

Norek removed the lid from the box to reveal several truffles nestled in white tissue paper. “Did you make these?” he asked. The note of awe in his voice was gratifying.

“Yeah. I like baking, but I’ve been practicing chocolate making too, recently.” Norek picked one up and took a bite out of it. A soft moan slipped from his mouth and he closed his eyes, swaying slightly.

“Sugar,” he said, accent thickening a little. He opened his eyes, only enough so you could see his irises under the long shadows of his eyelashes. “These are wonderful.”

You grinned and laughed. “Thank you.”

He popped the rest of the truffle into his mouth with another over-exaggerated groan of delight. “Oh, sugar, you’re going to spoil my dinner.”

“Why don’t we leave these here, then,” you said, placing the box back on the counter, “and you can grab them when we get back.”

Norek waggled his eyebrows at you. “Inviting me into your home already? You must be confident this date’s going to go well.”

“W-well,” you stammered slightly, trying to think of something playfully flirtatious to say next. Your brain seemed to screech to a halt.

Norek nudged you gently. “Don’t be nervous. It’s only me.” He shifted his tail and grinned. “I only bite if asked.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you said. You grabbed your jacket and headed out of your home, Norek right behind you.

“The restaurtant’s only a few blocks that way,” he said, pointing. “And it’s such a nice night out. Do you want to just head there on tail?” He glanced at your legs. “Or, I suppose, on foot?”

“Sure.” There was a little bit of a chill, but that gave you an excuse to huddle close to Norek as you headed toward the restaurant. Your shoulders rubbed against each other.

The restaurant was beautiful. It was right at the edge of what was generally referred to as the ‘forest’ district, a section of the city typically for those who dwelled in the treetops. The outside was made of unfinished wood and it was surrounded by plants illuminated in fairy lights. It gave the whole place a nearly ethereal aura.

A harpy hostess greeted you and guided you toward a table on one of the upper levels. Norek was surprisingly skilled at getting from one level to another. There were tree-like protrusions on the walls that Norek wound himself around to climb from one level to the next.

You were seated at the table and the harpy left, promising that your server would be back in a few moments. A quick glance over the menu showed that it was split into several sections, each one with specials for a different sort of creature. The human section was limited, but you could see a couple of dishes you were interested in.

“I hope this place works for you,” Norek said. “They don’t cater to humans specifically, but it can be hard to find restaurants that are nice and work for multiple species, so…” He trailed off and you sensed some almost-frantic nervousness from him.

“No, no,” you reassured, “I like it here.” You glanced around. As far as you could see, there were no other humans, but there were several other species. The nagas you could see looked similar to Norek. “Do you live around here?” you asked.

“Oh,” he said with a slight chuckle. “No, this is a specialized district. I don’t make enough money at the bakery to live here. But it’s a goal. It’s just such a nice place to live.”

“It is really pretty,” you said. Norek nodded. “Did you live in an area like this with your parents?”

He shook his head. “No. My dad was a human.”

Your eyebrows shot up involuntarily. “Really?”

He chuckled. “Everyone’s surprised by that. They assume I must be a full naga. Probably because I’m so big.” He shifted his tail. It coiled beneath him and under the table, right next to your feet. “But I’m only half-naga. Just got good genes, I suppose.”

A waiter popped by and took your drink orders before fluttering off. Norek folded his hands under his chin. “What about you?”

“Pure human,” you said. “Pretty far back, too. I lived in a pretty human-dense area for a while, but I moved here recently.”

The waiter returned with your glasses of wine and Norek sipped from his. “That must have been quite a change,” he said. “I’ve never lived in an area without a variety.”

“I definitely looked like a tourist when I first came here. I think I made some people uncomfortable with how much I stared. But I don’t regret it. It’s a lot more interesting here than I was where I came from.”

“Your parents don’t have a problem with interspecies dating, do they,” Norek asked.

“I don’t think so. I mean, I think they’d prefer it if their grandchildren were human, but they’re not against me dating outside my species. I mean, they knew it was possibility when I moved here.”

Norek nodded, taking another draw of his wine. “I think you can guess that my parents aren’t concerned with it,” he said. “Although it’s a mite early to start talking about meeting the parents.”

“A bit,” you agreed. The waiter returned and you put in your orders. Norek leaned closer to you. His tail brushed against your leg. It was surprisingly cool and smooth.

“How’re ya liking the job so far?”” he asked.

“It’s better than I expected. Marziana is a good boss and the work’s challenging, but pretty fun.” Norek nodded.

“She’s great. Doesn’t need to pay me as much as she does, but she gives me enough to live on and then some, so I’m grateful.” He grinned. “She’s a bit of a slave driver around the holidays, though. I remember one year-”

He launched into a story that continued even after your food arrived. You were dimly aware that time was passing, but you weren’t really aware of just how long you’d been sitting there until you realized that the candles had burned down almost to nubs.

“Shit,” Norek said. “We really shouldn’t have stayed for so long. You have work tomorrow.” He waved down your waiter, coils shifting anxiously under the table. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

You felt your face burn as you tried to think of a classy way to say “You look good when you get into talking and I didn’t want to stop looking at you”. You didn’t manage to get there before Norek grabbed the check. Luckily, you’d agreed on split the bill ahead of time, so there was no squabbling over who was going to pay.

You left the restaurant together, Norek careful not to let the door catch his tail on the way out. He looked around for a moment, hissing quietly. “Which direction is your home in again?”

“This way,” you said, leading him in the right direction.

“Sorry we couldn’t get dessert,” he said. “I didn’t realize how late it was getting.” He grinned at you. “It was a good night, though.”

You nodded. The tip of Norek’s tail twitched in a way you were starting to recognize, which meant he was excited or enjoying himself.

“I wouldn’t be opposed to doing it again,” he said cautiously, bright yellow eyes searching your face.

You grinned. “Are you asking me on a second date?”

By this point, you were already at the front door to your home. Norek smiled, tail twitching. “Maybe,” he said. “Are you going to say yes?”

You considered him for a moment, planning your approach. He was tall enough that you had to get up on your tiptoes to kiss him. His reaction was immediate. His hands came up, securing your head against his, and he groaned against your mouth. As the kiss deepened, his tail tangled around your legs, pinning your in place.

It was a few minutes before you broke away. Norek looked a little dazed, long lashes fluttering over his eyes. “Wow,” he murmured. “You’re… you’re going to kill me.”

“In a good way, I hope,” you said. Norek grinned.

“I’m not complaining,” he said. He hesitated, then sighed. “I really have to go.” You gestured that you wanted to kiss him again and he shook his head. “I’ll never leave,” he said. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” He darted in and gave you a quick kiss on the cheek before slithering off into the night.

#naga #exophilia #naga boyfriend #monster boyfriend #monster romance #monster lover

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vancouverkitchenrenovation · 2 years ago

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Coastal Bathroom Design Ideas

Coastal bathroom design ideas are one of the most popular bathroom trends these days, thanks to its clean, coastal look and appeal. You’ll find that a coastal bathroom is a great way to incorporate a relaxed feel into your home, while still remaining stylish.

Modern

Whether you are looking for a bathroom renovation or just want to freshen up your current space, coastal design is a great way to add a touch of seaside ambiance to your home. Using natural elements like driftwood and pebbled floors, you can create a relaxed space that is reminiscent of a vacation.

To add coastal color to your bathroom, use light and airy shades of blue and white. To make a statement, add an accent wall in the shower. You can also choose bold prints for the backsplash tile.

A modern coastal bathroom can be completed with white vanity cabinets, a glass sink, and flat-front cabinets. Whitewashed tongue-and-groove ceilings and marble counters complete the coastal look. You can also add a mosaic back splash to your vanity.

Retro

Coastal bathrooms are a popular theme for vacation homes. They reflect the laid back atmosphere of island living. Incorporating the nautical theme is simple. Coastal bathroom decor can be as elaborate or as minimal as you’d like.

The most basic coastal bathroom design will incorporate neutrals in warm sand tones. These colors will never go out of style. Bright accent colors such as aqua-like shades will add zing to the room.

A nautically themed tub will complement the nautical theme. A custom designed sink will match the nautical wall covering. The Cheviot Products soaking tub is a sleek minimalist silhouette.

Embroidered shells on white towels will lend a nautical touch. For a beach themed bathroom, the best way to display these nautical tchotchkes is on a narrow ledge.

Glam

Whether you live in a beachside enclave or a suburb, a well designed bathroom can enhance the ambiance of your home. Using the appropriate color scheme, and the proper tiling technique will ensure your bathroom will withstand the rigors of day to day usage. While the average bathroom gets a little old over time, you can easily revive it with the help of some colorful tiles, paint, and a little elbow grease.

Using a quality glass tile can help ensure the longevity of your bathroom. The best type to use is glass or ceramic tiles that look like marble. This is especially true if you are installing a marble top vanity or bathroom sink. Adding a framed piece of artwork can really jazz up a space, as long as it fits the theme.

Scandinavian

Using Scandinavian bathroom design ideas, you can achieve a beautiful, relaxing space. This style of bathroom emphasizes simplicity, light, and natural materials. While some people think that Scandinavian style bathrooms are all about white, you can achieve a different look with different colors.

Scandinavian bathrooms often have neutral colors, like white, gray, and beige. While you may think that dark colors aren’t suitable, they can actually add a lot of contrast to a monochrome bathroom.

You can achieve this look by using a light color base, such as white, and then choosing accent colors that complement the base color. For example, a white bathroom can be complemented by a grey herringbone tile accent wall. The accent colors should be consistent with the base color to create a balanced look.

Black

Adding a few nautical touches to your bathroom is a great way to bring your home’s coastal design to life. Whether it’s a nautical themed bathroom or a nautical themed bedroom, the nautical theme is a great way to incorporate elements of the sea into your home. This is especially true if you live near the water.

A nautical theme also requires the right materials to achieve the desired effect. Materials like weathered wood and textural linen window fabrics are ideal for linking your bathroom to a rugged coastal setting. Also, opt for a light or dark toned wood for added warmth.

A nautical themed bathroom can be fun and whimsical without going overboard. It’s also a great place to showcase your personality. You can find a wide selection of unique and quirky furnishings. Using vintage light fixtures is a great way to add a touch of chic to your bathroom.

Whether planning a bathroom renovation or simply updating your existing space, Vancouver Kitchen Renovation can help you create a bathroom that fits your style and budget. With years of experience working with homeowners across Vancouver, BC, we know how to transform bathrooms into spaces that fit your lifestyle. Whether you’re looking for a modern look or something more traditional, we can help you achieve the look you want. As a locally owned and operated company, we pride ourselves on providing quality products and exceptional customer service. When you choose VK Renovation, you can rest assured knowing that you’re choosing a company that cares about your satisfaction.

We understand that to be successful is to stay ahead of the curve. That means staying current with the latest technology and design trends. We always want to improve our products or services without breaking the bank. That’s why we stay connected to the latest technologies of NKBA, National Kitchen and Bath Association. In addition, at Vancouver Kitchen renovation, our primary focus is providing sustainable bathroom design and renovation packages, and we believe in sustainable living. Sustainable living is a way of life in harmony with nature. It is a lifestyle which focuses on the preservation of our environment. Sustainable living is a philosophy emphasizing respect for the environment and concern for its well-being. This means we should take care of the planet and treat it as if it were our home. We should try to preserve what we have and protect it from destruction. If we do this, we will enjoy the benefits of the earth’s resources for many generations. Whether you’re planning a major remodel or adding finishing touches to your current bathroom, we’d love to discuss your project. Book your showroom consultation online.

Main Areas of Service in British Columbia:

Vancouver

North Vancouver

West Vancouver

Burnaby

Coquitlam

Squamish

Whistler

Frequently Asked Questions

What is a complete bathroom remodel package?

Depending on the needs of the customer, a complete bathroom remodel package may include multiple services. Some services you might consider include are:

Bathroom design consultation

3D rendering of bathroom design

Schluter offers waterproofing services

Services in the setting of tiles

Supply and delivery of tiles

Supply and Installation of in-floor heating system

All plumbing and lighting fixtures can be delivered and supplied.

All plumbing, electrical, and other work by our licensed electricians.

Delivery and installation of the vanity

Supply, fabrication and installation of the countertop

Glass for shower and tub installation.

Demolition and removal all existing fixtures and material

Wallpaper and painting services

How can you make a bathroom look new?

Bathroom renovations are usually simple. Sometimes, though, these updates don’t suffice.

A bathroom remodel may be a good investment. This is particularly true for homes built before 1980, where old plumbing systems often lead to leaks and water damage.

Although a total overhaul may seem daunting, it is not impossible. You can easily transform your space with some planning and preparation. Here are some tips to help you tackle this project.

Make a plan. Whether you hire professionals or handle the entire job yourself, having a clear vision of your goals is essential.

Also, you need to think about whether you would rather renovate or build a new layout. You will likely have to take down walls if you choose the latter to ensure drainage.

Once you have determined which direction you want, make rough floor plans. Measure each room carefully.

Next, choose a colour scheme. While neutral tones such as white, gray, brown, and black are popular choices, they won’t necessarily suit your home’s decor. You should instead choose colours that will complement your existing decor. If your house is made of wood, warm colours like orange, yellow, or gold could be used.

It can be hard to choose a palette, but it is possible. Take plenty of time to shop furniture, appliances, accessories.

Finally, check out local building codes. There may be requirements to obtain permits depending on where you live. You may be required to obtain a permit from the city hall in some cases. If you are unsure of the code applicable to your area, please contact your local Building Inspection Division or call the Building Inspection Division in British Columbia. They can assist you with your particular project.

You can get help from a reputable bathroom contractor to determine the best path of action. They can provide guidance and advice on how to proceed. Don’t forget about tax deductions. A tax credit may be available for those who invest in significant renovations, particularly if they are energy-efficient.

What is the most expensive component of a bathroom remodel project?

The most expensive part of bathroom renovations is labour. Professional labour will cost you anywhere from $10,000 to $15,000, depending on how large and complex your project is. This doesn’t include the cost of materials, which can vary widely depending on the type of fixtures and finishes you choose.

Statistics

2023 bathroom design trends: Bathroom faucet designs reflected wellness concerns, with 61% choosing accessible lever handles, 48% choosing motion and 36% going for the touch or tap options. (https://nkba.org)

According to a 2019 remodelling report from the National Association of Realtors, 70 percent of consumers “have a greater desire to be home” after a bathroom renovation, so read on and soak up the secrets. (housebeautiful.com)

If possible, allow a 15 to 20% contingency fund so you’re prepared for the unexpected. (loveproperty.com)

Outdoor showers can dramatically increase the value of your home—according to a 2018 report from Realtor.com, homes with outdoor showers tend to list for nearly double the asking price of other homes! (housebeautiful.com)

Glass tile is one of the greenest bathroom flooring options because it can be 100% recycled. (caddetailsblog.com)

2023 bathroom design trends: 82% of those surveyed revealed bathrooms are now designed for two-person use. (https://nkba.org)

2023 bathroom design trends: Digital showering allows users to program their preferred flow rate, and the temperature was a 23% preference. 44% wanted the ability to start their showers with their phones. (https://nkba.org)

2023 bathroom design trends: Large format tiles were favoured by 59% of those surveyed.mSlab surfaces were favoured by 40% of those surveyed. (https://nkba.org)

NKBA estimates that broken down, most of this cost comes from fixtures and plumbing (about 29 percent), followed by counters and surfaces (21 percent), labour (20 percent), and cabinetry and hardware (16 percent). (remodelista.com)

I can’t tell you the number of times I’ve had someone call and say they have an existing old tub (which, 99% of the time, is 60” wide once they’re pulled out) and want to convert the bathtub to a shower. (blog.innovatebuildingsolutions.com)

WaterSense-labeled bathroom sink faucets use a maximum of 1.5 gallons per minute, reducing water use by 30 percent or more from the standard flow of 2.2 gallons per minute – without sacrificing performance. (elemental.green)

2023 bathroom design trends: Heated floors were favoured by a substantial 75% of those who responded to the survey.(https://nkba.org)

External Links

nkba.org

Home – NKBA

Real-World Budgeting for Bathroom Remodeling

houzz.com

2020 U.S. Houzz Bathroom Trends Study

Houzz

How To

How to design a master bathroom

Here are some things you need to keep in mind when designing a master bedroom. First, think about the size of the space and what type of fixtures you want. You should also choose a style and color that you enjoy, as well as one that complements the overall design of your home. Third, select materials that will stand up to moisture and wear. Finally, don’t forget to add some personal touches to make the space your own.

It is possible to make your master bathtub feel like a spa. Add a steam shower, heated towel racks, and candle-scented candles. These small details create a relaxing atmosphere for bathing.

Lighting is an important aspect of a master bath. You should ensure that you have enough lighting to read and work while you are bathing. A skylight should not be a distraction from the beauty in the bathroom.

There is no need to decorate your master bath extravagantly. Keep it simple and clean. It is best to stick to neutral tones and to avoid using bright colours. Your home will look great once your bathrooms are complete.

You must not forget storage! Every room needs storage, but a master bathroom is particularly important. Make sure everything has its place by investing in quality cabinetry. It’ll surprise you how much easier it will be to tidy up the bathroom when everything has its home.

These are just a few ideas to help you design your perfect master bathroom. Don’t forget that this is your space. Make it yours. Take your time and enjoy the process!

Did you miss our previous article… https://vancouverkitchenrenovation.com/bathrooms/five-companies-that-remodel-bathrooms/

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helloadmn101 · 2 years ago

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Custom Kitchen Cabinets in Maryland

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lady-divine-writes · 5 years ago

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Trading Favors

Summary: It starts with a chocolate eclair and ends with angel and demon trading favors back and forth while Crowley tries to figure out what he could offer that would be worth his angel making love to him. (2110 words)

Notes: Written to include @drawlight's '31 Days of Ineffables' prompt 'caroling', along with a few others. No sexual content - just a lot of warm fuzzies and some dancing at the end :)

Read on AO3.

“Goodness gracious I would give my left arm for a chocolate éclair!” Aziraphale sighs, his cheek meeting his palm when he props his elbow on his desk, the rest of his body sinking so completely into the gesture he looks nearly boneless.

“Isn’t that vivid? You could always miracle yourself one,” Crowley suggests, less than helpfully since he knows how Aziraphale feels about miracled food.

“Yes, but it’s never quite the same.”

“So you keep saying,” Crowley mutters into his partially drunk glass of merlot. He’s only had the one, poured more out of lack of anything better to do than actual want for inebriation.

Crowley’s in a bit of a pickle.

He wants to hang out with Aziraphale. More than anything. That’s why he came over. Doing nothing here in Aziraphale’s bookshop is preferable to doing nothing alone in his dark, empty flat.

But he’s bored.

So bored that the thought of getting up off the sofa he’s planted on and getting his angel an éclair sounds close to a grand adventure. But he can’t make it seem like Aziraphale is the one doing him a favor. He wants something out of it for himself, and an éclair doesn’t appeal to him right now.

Decisions, decisions, decisions …

He takes a sip to deliberate over - a kiss of alcohol against his lips to warm his mouth. It doesn’t quite do the trick since it’s barely a mouthful and he swallows too quickly. He licks his lips at the same time Aziraphale licks his, and smiles when he thinks of something that could warm him better.

“If I went down to the bakery and got one for you, can I have kiss?”

Aziraphale perks up, turning towards his husband and raising intrigued eyebrows. “What kind of kiss?”

Crowley shrugs – a jumble of uncoordinated joints moving independently of their owner. “Just a kiss.”

“Where?”

“Oh … well … I was thinking … on the lips?”

Aziraphale chews on Crowley’s offer while he nibbles his lower lip. He’s not about to say no, of course. A chocolate éclair for the price of a kiss? That’s two treats in one! Only an idiot would turn that down!

But he can’t let it seem like Crowley is doing him that big a favor.

He fakes a yawn while he pretends to think, bouncing his eyebrows nonchalantly.

“All right,” he says. “If it’s not too much trouble, that is.”

“No, no. No trouble at all.”

“Then it’s a deal.”

***

“You know what I could go for right now?”

“Mmm,” Aziraphale hums around a generous bite of light pastry and thick cream, but with the smooth finish of merlot-flavored kisses clinging to his tongue, “what?”

“A glass of Midwinter Nights Dram.”

“Oh my!” Aziraphale chuckles after a swallow. “I haven’t had a glass of that in ages!”

“Yeah. Warmed up on many a cold night with that stuff …” Crowley gazes dreamily up at the vaulted ceilings of the bookshop as though his last memories of throwing back a bottle of Christmas whiskey is floating there amongst the beams. If he had a bottle, he could more than likely persuade Aziraphale to share it with him. Then maybe, just maybe, he could beg another kiss off his husband.

Alcohol on his husband’s breath, he has happily discovered, tastes much better than from the mouth of a bottle.

Aziraphale chews the end of his éclair, thoughtfully watching his husband go silent, eyelids closed, a peculiar smile bunching his cheeks. “If I happen to have a bottle,” Aziraphale says, “could I bother you to help me with a chore?”

One of Crowley’s eyelids pops open, fast enough to compete with the speed of light. “What chore?”

“Move a few things upstairs?”

Crowley looks disappointed, but not enough to turn Aziraphale down. “How many things?”

“A dozen. Maybe less. But they can’t be miracled upstairs. They’re magic sensitive. They have to be carried.”

Crowley wonders if one of those items could include his angel but decides not to ask. “Sure, all right. If you have it.”

Aziraphale reaches underneath his desk. His hand goes straight for a cabinet by his knee, opens it, and pulls out the exact bottle Crowley was thinking of. Without even shifting his gaze to check, Aziraphale holds the bottle up for Crowley to see, and gives it a teasing shake. “Is this what you were hoping for?”

Crowley grins. He had no doubt Aziraphale had it. If he didn’t, Aziraphale would have miracled it up.

Which puts Crowley in line for another kiss, one that tastes of plum pudding, mulling spices, dried fruit, and vanilla.

But also Principality.

Crowley rises eagerly from the sofa, reaching for the bottle, but Aziraphale pulls it out of reach.

“Work first,” he says, setting the bottle back in its cabinet, impish grin twisting the corner of his mouth. “Drink afterward.”

Crowley, left reaching, his hand still hovering in the air, saunters sideways, eyeballing his flirt of a husband. He flexes his fingers and smacks his lips - his mouth dry, craving a hundred Christmas-flavored kisses. And they wouldn’t need to be on his angel’s lips. Midwinter Nights Dram would go great anywhere – Aziraphale’s shoulders, his spine, the bend of his elbow, the soft skin behind his knee … “I’d better get started.”

***

“Oh blast!” Aziraphale erupts, snapping Crowley out of his mellow dwam supplied by his second glass of whiskey.

“Wot?”

“I was supposed to have this book wrapped up and ready to ship before two!” Aziraphale says, glaring at a leather-bound book resting beneath his right hand as if it’s a rodent he’d killed days before that has somehow returned from the grave.

“And …?”

“It’s 3:15! How in the Hell did I miss the post man?” Aziraphale twists in his chair, looking out the window in search of him, to check if, by any luck, he might still be around. “I’m going to have to run it down to the post office myself!”

“Whatever for?”

“I really need it to go out today!”

Crowley is going to take it for him. He knows he will. It’s the husbandly thing to do.

Still …

He looks at his glass of whiskey and frowns.

He’d gotten the drink he wanted but he’s yet to get another kiss. He thought he might be on the road to getting one. Aziraphale had asked for a glass of whiskey. Things were looking bright.

There it is, on his desk, untouched.

Crowley assumes he’d been reaching for it, which is how he stumbled across the book.

It’s sitting directly in the path his hand was traveling to reach his glass.

Damn!

Crowley doesn’t want to outright ask for another kiss, especially not now. He might end up with a peck on the cheek and no more talk about it. He wants to work up to it, tempt it out of his husband … and possibly a little more.

“If I take care of it, can I get a shoulder rub?” Crowley asks, rolling his right shoulder. “Humpin’ all that stuff upstairs (nngh!) really put a strain on the old muscles.”

Aziraphale rolls his eyes but agrees, “Absolutely.”

“A shirtless shoulder rub?”

Aziraphale manages to look unamused and amused at the same time. “You shirtless? Or me shirtless?”

“I’d prefer both of us shirtless, but just me is fine.”

And despite being in front of the eight ball, Aziraphale’s eyes sparkle at the thought. “Then I’d say, in this case, we both get a reward. Chip-chop! Hurry up!”

***

God rest ye merry, gentlemen Let nothing you dismay Remember, Christ, our Saviour Was born on Christmas day To save us all from Satan's power When we were gone astray

“Ugh!” Aziraphale’s head drops to his desk, his forehead making a soft thump when it connects with the wood.

“What?” Crowley asks, lounging on Aziraphale’s sofa with his feet up and his head lolling off the cushions, his manhandled muscles melting into the sumptuous, velvety fabric. His shirt made it back on but barely, the buttons undone down the front, his skin tingling in the winter chill.

“We have carolers!”

“I know!” Crowley groans sympathetically. “And they’re singing the worst Christmas song ever! I wouldn’t say Christ saved the humans from Satan. It was more of a draw.”

“I am not in the mood right now!” Aziraphale snaps into his paperwork.

“Oh. Sorry.”

“Not you. Them!”

“Oh.” Immediately seeing an opportunity, Crowley shimmies up on the sofa. “What will you give me if I take care of them for you?”

“What do you want?” Aziraphale moans pathetically.

Crowley leans forward, relaying his request in a husky tone he prays might put him back on track towards seducing his husband. “Dance with me, angel?”

“Yes, all right,” Aziraphale agrees without a single thought, no objection whatsoever, aided by an offensively sour soprano note that might have come about with a hint of demonic assistance. “Just … get rid of them!”

“Will do!” Crowley launches out of his seat and hurries towards the door, but halfway there, he stops. “Promise not to question my methods?”

“Yes, of course. Just … please …”

“On it.”

Aziraphale sighs with relief, lifting his head and straightening the papers on his desk. That’s when he realizes – he sent a demon to get rid of Christmas carolers … and he gave him carte blanche on how to do it! “Wait a minute!” He pushes away from his desk and hops to his feet, following Crowley to the front door. “Hold up! Crowley? What do you intend to …?”

But the familiar growl and shrill screams coming from outside his shop tell him he asked a second too late.

***

At last My love has come along My lonely days are over And life is like a song …

The vintage vinyl spins smoothly under the needle of Aziraphale’s gramophone as he sways slowly with his husband, in the circle of his arms. He inhales deep, his demon smelling bitter and sweet: of cloves and spice, whiskey and wine, cranberry and chestnut, of crisp winter air and the new falling snow from when he stepped out the door and, for a split second, transformed into a monstrous, fire-breathing serpent to clear away the carolers.

Aziraphale didn’t entirely approve of this technique, but he can’t help himself giggling at how a dozen men, women, and children dressed in matching red tartan shirts and wearing wool pompom hats leapt five feet and scattered like mice in a dark room with the lights flicked on. But Aziraphale made sure to bless them as they ran, made certain that little Ryan Weathers would find that bike he wants under his tree, that Molly Stevens would get the game system she asked for (seeing as she was nearly trampled by, of all people, her mum), that Pastor Dorney (the leader of the gang) would find an uptick in attendance at his small church on Christmas morning, along with donations, and on and on. Maybe Aziraphale wasn’t in the mood for carolers at the time, but he can’t blame them for their service. They were only trying to spread Christmas cheer, after all.

Considering the cynical times they live in, it’s truly a noble cause.

Aziraphale hugs his husband tight and Crowley reciprocates. But they’ve been dancing for half an hour and Crowley hasn’t said a word. Aziraphale doesn’t think he feels guilty about what he’s done, but he is curious.

“You sure have gone quiet,” Aziraphale points out, peeking up at his husband, a hair’s breath from his lips. “Still mulling over the frightened faces of those poor carolers you scared down the street?”

“No,” Crowley replies, but a tiny smile slips onto his face. “Well, yes, but … I guess I’m just wondering …”

“Hmm? What?”

“What I have to do to get you to make love to me.”

Aziraphale smiles. “My dear boy. You don’t need to do anything. Just ask.”

“Really?”

“Really. Making love isn’t something you need to trade favors for. It’s something I enjoy. I hope you know that.”

“I do.”

“Good.”

Aziraphale presses a kiss to Crowley’s cheek and rests his head on his husband’s shoulder. They continue to sway, caught in the spell of Etta James’s rich contralto voice, till it hits Crowley that he may not need to do anything, but there still may be something he can do for his enamored angel.

Because he loves him.

“And another éclair?” he asks.

Aziraphale rolls adoring eyes up at his demon. “One for after would be lovely.”

Crowley kisses Aziraphale on the forehead. “I’ve got you covered.”

#good omens #ineffable husbands #31 days of ineffables #crowley x aziraphale #aziraphale x crowley #Frankie writes

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geekygoddesss · 6 years ago

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B.F.F

Summary: Journey through the life of a girl whose heart belongs to her best friend, but he doesn’t feel the same way.

Words: 7.2k

She knew something was up the second that familiar ring made her ears vibrate in the middle of her sleep. There was always something up when that alarming sound went off at this time and she wasn’t sure if she even wanted to know if something was happening or not.

It was not often when she got the chance to have a good night sleep, and whenever she had the chance, she would take whatever timing she had and make the best out of it. Between work, homework, and babysitting, things got exhausting, so having these weird moments of complete calm meant the world to her.

On the best case scenario, she would sleep for the full eight hours without a single interruption; On the worst case scenario, this would happen and she would have to give up a couple of minutes of her resting to face the real world or something like that.

For a couple seconds she really debated if it was worth it to even make the effort to know what was happening out there, she wanted to know but at the same time, she was sleeping and she just wanted to keep going, so she came to the conclusion she would just act dumb and pretend the ring never happened, but after the second ring and then third, it was evidence enough she would have to do something about it, weather she wanted it or not.

She didn’t even bother on opening her eyes, she didn’t want to. She just lifted her arm long enough and blindly looked for that familiar shape implanted on the flat wall, it was always on the same spot, but in moments like this, it was almost as if it danced everywhere around the room because she could never find it at first, it was always after another ring went off when she was able to grab on the phone and pull it to her ear.

She could already feel the anger building inside of her as the cold plastic of the phone touched her ear and made her body shiver, this was not the time for this shit. She didn’t want to talk to anyone, she just wanted to go back to her nonsense dreaming. Apparently, that was too much to ask for.

“You better be dying right now” she said, in a long, dry and sleepy voice. It was very unlike her, but again, this was not the time.

At the other side of the phone, a happy chuckle contrasted her own unsympathetic tone. The little screen beside the phone was glowing and brightening the room, making the situation even more annoying, she knew who it was just by hearing the smallest bit of his voice, she didn’t need to ask once, only he could show up at this place in the middle of the fucking night.

“Open the door please” he said kindly, but there was something in his voice, it was different and… weird. She didn’t even know if that meant good or bad.

“Are you kidding me?” She whined “do you know what time it is?”

Hopefully, this conversation would end there, but she knew who she was treating with and there was no way she was getting rid of him so easily.

“I said please” he said innocently, clearly leaning over the speaker and whining “pleaseee”

“What are you doing here?” She asked with a dry voice, making her very best to sit up on her own bed and take a look at the screen.

It was just impossible, it was too bright and her eyes were not adjusting, but she didn’t need to look at the image to check if it was his face, she knows it better than anyone, it had to be Luke.

“I have nowhere else to go” he said, again, in an innocent voice make totally on purpose to make her feel bad.

She made her very best to think about it with clarity, even though this situation wasn’t anything new. She looked at her left, glanced at her clock and came to a momentary conclusion.

“How about your house? Luke, it’s 3 in the morning” she said, rubbing her eyes with the back of her hand and hoping maybe it will make her more awake.

There was silence outside and it seemed almost as if he wanted to process his words carefully even when it was just a couple of simple sentences, there was nothing to process about that, his brain was just running slow at this time.

“I feel lonely in there” he confessed, making his voice quiet and personal “please?” He said, almost begging.

She wished she was capable of being colder and just tell him to go eat shit, because one of the things she hated most in life was being woken up and he was doing that job to perfection, earning all of the points for her to kick him out for a good day or maybe two. But she could never do that, not to him.

Luke Hemmings was just something else…

After a couple of seconds of just processing correctly whatever the heck was happening and taking a good glance at Luke’s figure through the security camera, leaning his forehead over the monitor and waiting for her response, she just gave up. She held her finger over the button and pressed down.

“Fine” she sighed, after hearing that familiar vibration coming from outside “It’s open” she announced, finally pleasing his only request.

He said nothing, he just glanced up and winked at her through the camera, letting himself inside, making himself at home. He knew she was going to let him in, what a loser.

After the light of the screen went off and the room was back again in that characteristic darkness from the past three and a half hours, she debated on if it was even worth it to go back to sleep or not, because even when there was a new guest in her home at this time, she didn’t have to go and open the door to him, he knew where the key was and she certainly didn’t have to engage a conversation, she was too exhausted to even hold a proper one. However, she had no other option than to try to stay awake, because there was no way he was coming here without talking to her for at least a minute, that’s just how he works and she wasn’t going to interfere in that.

She just opted for sitting on her bed and waiting for him, it always took at least five minutes, she lived on the second floor after all.

It was incredible how much power he had over her, ever since the first day she met him he had been so influential over her that it kept surprising her every time, but she still managed to not mind about it at all, in fact, she enjoyed it, at the end of everything he’s never done anything to her and she wouldn’t do anything to him, they kept things peaceful and that’s all that mattered, that’s why their friendship was so strong. He is her best friend, she trusted him with her life and she would do everything for him no matter what as long as he was always by her side. That’s how much he mattered.

She leaned over the head of the bed, resting her weight on it and expecting the cold feeling of the wood to trigger the sensations over her body and wake her up for long enough, at least to hold a small conversation with this guy. It worked wonders though, because after five minutes of slowly fighting the feeling of her heavy eyelids closing up, the sound of the front door made her jump in surprise, not because it was loud though, but more because it was just too early to expect any of this sounds to be around, they always took her off guard.

She stayed where she was and kept her eyes close, taking in all of the sounds inside of her apartment and trying to be fully aware of his movements inside of it. She heard steps coming from the living room, but they didn’t stop there and got any closer, they went somewhere else, probably the kitchen, where she heard cabinets being pulled open and a couple of things falling to the floor, hopefully nothing fragile, she really didn’t want to clean anything in the morning.

It almost seemed like it took forever for him to finally make his mind up on what to do downstairs and once he was done, she could finally hear the sound of his boots going upstairs and straight to her bedroom. She opened her eyes, she wanted to see how bad it was. Still, it was hard to tell at first sight. The first thing she could catch was a clear glimpse of was his long body, making a clear silhouette in between the frame of the door, showing off his long legs and tall body that sometimes came to surprise her for some reason, even though she’s seen it thousands of times before. He took off his boots as he made his way inside, letting her see his figure even more as he stepped closer, he was clearly shining tonight, his cheeks glow and the couple Rhinestones in random spots of his shirt showed that tonight he was up for something and he never really warned her beforehand, this was not something casual, it’s a special occasion, let’s see if he has somewhat of a good story.

He was smiling though, very wide, it was the kind of smile that sometimes became a bit intimidating but still, she loved it, seeing Luke smiling was a gift; however, right now was no time to be allowing every single thing, it was still the middle of the night and she had to know what the heck he was up to.

So when he sat on the opposite side of the bed and let his body fall on it freely, she couldn’t help but frown a bit, not because she minded at all, but more because ever since he got here he has not said one word to her in person and still he was coming to dig on her kitchen and lay on her bed. That bastard.

“You woke me up” she warned trying to sound a bit more serious but ending up just sounding too sleepy to even speak.

He hissed, looked up at her, clearly already expecting this kind of an attitude before saying “Sorry” he let out in a long and very dragged word “I'm drunk” he chuckled, rubbing his face with the back of his hand and drowning down his chuckles as much as he could.

Yes, he was definitely drunk. He didn’t need to mention it, she already knew, that’s how well she knows him.

”You don’t say“ she chuckled back, stretching her leg and giving his body a hard nudge “Please tell me you threw up already, I don’t feel like cleaning everyone’s barf” she said, turning her body on his direction to look at him directly.

He whined at her kicking, even though it was never a hard move, just an encouraging one for him to snap out of his drunkenness, so she did it again. This time, she really did get a full reaction to it, the moment he caught on her foot before it got away and kept it captive in his arm. She was too tired to fight that at the moment, so she let it be.

“That’s classified information ma’am” he said in a deep tone, chuckling at his own bad joke. Pulling on her leg, he somehow got her to be closer to his side and more on his level, shamelessly, he pulled her in a hug, a lung breaking one as if he hadn’t seen her for years. “Hello” he just said, pressing her against his body and just hugging the heck out of her. She didn’t know if she liked it or not, she was just… her feelings were all over the place right now.

“ew, you smell like whiskey” she chuckled, putting her hand in his chest and attempting to pull him away.

“Excuse you, it was rum” he argued, acting completely offended as he looked down at her and leaned in closer “know your liquors”

This kind of closeness was so unnatural and intimating, but she let that happen, she didn’t mind it but at the same time she did. It was that kind of moves from his part that made her feel so weird inside but she always had to shut up about it, this was not supposed to be a big deal.

She seemed obligated to move her face away from his breath because it just stinks, although, he was really being the funny kind tonight, she had to laugh “Sorry for my lack of expertise” she said, rolling her eyes “Where were you?”

He looked down at her as a smile started to spread on his lips “The Bad guy” he mumbled sarcastically, breaking in a fit of giggles at his own joke.

That was their brilliant inner joke that was never really funny, but it was a thing. There was not such a place with that name, it was just a nickname they would usually call to the Nice guy, probably one of the best clubs out there, so she understood it all in matter or seconds.

“Ashton had this pre birthday party thing, we went for sushi and straight to the club, it was so fun” he said, closing his eyes, almost as if he was attempting to recall the moment as he reveled what his plans were about all of this time.

It was interesting.

However, that sounded a bit odd. It was still the month of June and even when Luke Hemmings had a lot of friends, she didn’t know who could they possibly be organizing a birthday party at this time, because she certainly couldn’t recall anyone’s birthday around these days.

“Pre-birthday party” she said, repeating those words as she thought about it “for whom?”

Luke rolled his eyes “Both of us” he said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, but truth be told, it kind of wasn’t, he was just in that sassy mood tonight.

He looks like he’s about to say something else, he gets comfortable on the bed, moves to look at her more clearly but right after he really took a look at her, He sighed deeply, almost in apologize “sorry I didn’t tell you” he let out with sincerity “you know-“

“It’s alright” she said, deciding to interrupt him right away “I know Ashton doesn’t like me, I’ve learned to live with that” she chuckled quietly, it was true, Ashton and her had never gotten along and she was still happily breathing, so she didn’t care at all, at least not now.

He hissed and pressed her even more against his chest as a way of apology “Sorry” he said in a long dragged word. She couldn’t help but chuckle, it was really not a big deal. “if it helps with anything, I don’t know what I would you without you” he keeps going as his hug goes harder by the second “you are my lord and-”

“you’re sweet” she interrupted, not being able to take it even more and doing her very best to push him away at least a little to breathe. He really looked and smelled like a party night. “what's with this anyways? Your birthday is still three weeks away” she said, looking at his face, as she started to slowly move away from him.

His lips were pressed together in a thin line at her question, he thought about it, even though she doubted his dumb drunk brain could even process that, and apparently, it didn’t, he just shrugged, not really caring about it and letting her move away from him.

“Take it as a excuse to go drink” said Luke with a smirk on his face as he raised both hands dramatically in the air and said “Succeed!” he yelled, being way too loud and annoying, she had to quickly move and cover his mouth before he did that again, she didn’t even want to think of dealing with her neighbors now.

Luke usually did this kind of things when he was drunk. Apart from being too touchy and making no sense most of the time, he would also be incredibly loud whenever he could, this was just part of his drunk journey and she didn’t think she could get him out of that. However, this is something that would usually happen at his house, where his neighbors were far away and no one cared, in her place was the opposite, walls were thin and he couldn’t be making those kinds of things, at least not at this time during the night.

He shifted in place, putting his tongue out and licking the palm of her hand, causing her to squeal and move away in disgust, she hated when he did that. He moved away from her just enough so she didn’t do that again and took a sit on the place next to her, right where he could lay on the bed comfortably and in a normal position.

“Move” he said, almost as an order, made her lay on the bed with him and got the two of them comfortable enough to have a standard conversation. It was nice. He laid an arm around her and let her lay on him and he relaxed his whole body in one nice cuddle. They loved it. “that’s better” he sighed, once he was comfortable and laid down all the way.

Just like this, for the first time in the whole night, they were finally in peace and now there was nothing but complete silence in the room, just what she wanted and needed. It was hard to put down in just words, but she was so tired that the fact that there were no sounds inside of the room were working wonders on her, Luke’s soft shoulder under her cheek and the way he held her made her relax more than he realized, the feeling of his touch made her wish for far more but as in right now, it was enough to work better than a lullaby, to the point that her eyelids started to close and her mind started shutting down just about two minutes after their silence sank in the room, as she concentrated on the way his finger played with the end of her hair and his breathing going up and down. However, moments like this couldn’t last forever, not with drunk Luke, he wasn’t the easiest drunk to babysit.

“I almost sleep with a girl tonight” he spoke, taking her out of her sleep and snapping her back into reality.

She almost wished she could tell him to shut up about it, but in the imperfect world they live in, she has to suck it up and pretend she doesn’t mind hearing about it, but in reality, she does. These conversations were usually pure torture on its entirety.

“Interesting” she mumbled, rubbing her eyes with the back of her hand. He nodded, looking back at her and expecting to say something else, so she did. “Who was that?”

“I have no idea” he answered way too quickly, in a soft deep voice “I know she’s Ashton’s friend but if I’m honest I don’t remember her name really well, some really weird combination of a Spanish name…. Tatiana, something? Maybe?” he tries to remember but whatever was going on inside of his head would not make any sort of sense at the moment.

She tried not to look affected or anything, because this was one of the conversations she always tried to evict, just because of the fact of how much she hated he would sleep with a girl almost every week and how angry it actually made her feel. But she masked it, tried to put the softest smile on her face and shrugged.

“That’s not a mixed name” she let him know “I know a couple but I don’t think your drunk brain could process them” she scoffed, letting her finger go up and poke playfully the side of his cheek in one playful move.

“That’s Fine” he said chuckling as he shook his head “She has a nice voice and she talks a lot, like, a lot” he said as a small highlight of his new date “Her ass is spectacular, though”

That is when she frowned, this is the kind of boy talks he sometimes doesn’t know how to hold and she never knows how to stop, especially now, it was one of those times when he felt so comfortable words would leave his mouth with total freedom without a filter, it could easily become pretty uncomfortable for everyone, but he didn’t care, by this point he always felt unfiltered when being in the same room as his best friend.

“Hey, What have we said about those comments here?” she warned her with a serious voice, she needed to do it, but at the same time, she didn’t want to get in any discussions.

he sighed, hawked a couple times and cleared his voice “uh, Sorry, She has nice eyes” he said, almost wiping away his past sentences.

“That’s better” She smiled, nodding her head and going back to their previous conversation “why aren’t you with her right now?” she asked.

He closed his eyes tight, sighing deeply and laying his head on top on hers. Probably there was a whole and kind of dramatic story behind all of this, by the look on his face, he was giving her all of the signs that indicated her he did not have a good experience with whoever this girl was, it kind of worried her that it would be too bad than just regular mad.

“She grabbed my ass on the way to my car” he confessed, shaking his head at the same time and frowning a little. “what a turn off”

Of course, there was a story, in moments like this there is always one, and truth be told, for some reason, this one she was loving. She cracked.

“Oh my gosh” she said, just when the laughs started coming out of her lips to the point she had to keep some composure and he blushed. She rolled on her stomach, just to look at his face, he looked somehow embarrassed by all this. “tell me it was just quick grab, or maybe an innocent pat on the buttock” she wondered, already demanding details.

“Nope, straight on grab and squeeze” he said, as his lips pressed together in pure disappointment and once again making her completely crack at the hilarious story.

Who would have thought Luke Hemmings didn’t like being touched in the butt by his girl-friends?

His face was a pure poem, that serious expression after failing at getting laid for the night and the ‘tragic’ experience he got from it were just enough to keep her having one good laugh, it was just so hilarious she had to laugh a little.

“Oh no, Tatiana, I am so disappointed” she said, still trying to control her laughing and keep up with him “So you just left her?” she asked as a way to not only control herself but also let him finish the story.

He nodded “I said my brother was calling for me like crazy and drove out” he narrated shrugging at the end of her story.

She had to admit it was kind of disappointing that this story didn’t have a more dramatic outcome, but it was whatever, he was a Pacific guy, it’s not like he would argue out of that, a little white lie did the trick really well.

“Liar” she said, shaking her head “So you drove out…”

“And now I’m here” he finished for her, grabbing her a bit more tightly and squeezing her in a hug “Just making sure I don’t die on my home”

It was nice to know he trusted on making sure he didn’t die, but that doesn’t mean she didn’t notice certain things...

“You were drunk driving” she said in a now more serious tone, looking up at him. He was drunk, it was obvious already, but there was something in his eyes and his voice, it sounded unnatural, she didn’t notice at first, but looking at him up close gave it all away. “and you’re high too, holy shit” she almost exclaim shaking her head.

“I’m so irresponsible, I know” he said, whining and throwing his head back.

“Tomorrow you’re on for a lecture, sir” she warned, poking on his chest.

“I don’t need it” he whined one more time, taking her accusing hand off his chest and shaking his head.

“I think you do and I will tell you when you’re sober” she said before he could even try to get away from this conversation “First of all, drunk driving it’s dangerous and you could have gotten yourself or someone else killed, second of all, Getting high kills your neurons and you’re going to need them in the future, believe it or not” she said, not even handling herself for a speech, it was too early in the morning, this kind of peep talks were heavy.

“Nope” he shook his head, probably not even hearing anything that she said and squeezing her shoulder a couple of times “How was your date?” he asked out of curiosity and changing the topic and avoiding any of the peep talk she could have “It was today, right?” he asked, she nodded.

Out of all things there were to talk about, she was really hoping he wouldn’t bring this up, because her dating life was something she really didn't like to talk about. Out of her twenty-one years of life, men have just been a difficult thing for her to manage and as in right now, given her current situation, she just didn’t like to touch on the topic even on the slightest bit, Especially with him. There was that one thing going through her mind all of the time and in five years she has not been able to take that away, it was annoying and it was affecting heavily on her love life. She just didn’t like to talk about it.

But sometimes shit happens and this is one of those times, because a couple of days when her friend at school asked her out, she said yes out of pure kindness to then find out on the last minute that the guy was throwing them out a full on date on that specific night, she broke the news to Luke twice and the second time, once he knew this was not just going to be an innocent hangout he not only was preparing a couple of questions, he was going to make all of the questions, demanding details, and she was definitely not looking forward to any of them.

He got excited when she affirmed that she, in fact, went on a date that night and before she could even say a word, he was already looking for a comfortable position on the bed and shaking her body for her to wake up a bit more. He just wanted to know it all.

“Oh man, yes! It was! I’m the worst friend ever, tell me, girl, how was it? Did you get some?” he asked in a cheering tone as he raised his voice to more than just a lazy mumble. It was so annoying.

“Hey! That’s personal” she chuckled, at his last question. This was definitely one of the questions she wanted to avoid.

He just rolled his eyes at her and said in a sassy tone “Like I don’t tell you whenever I get some”

Exactly, he did, every single time and by this point, she could not hate her more, because every time he went in detail something inside of her boiled in pure anger, this was not something she felt particularly comfortable hearing about.

“And it’s always TMI, Luke, always” she groaned, rolling her eyes back at him and sighing “Oh lord” she said, trying to gather herself up and bringing up all of the memories from a couple hours ago, just enough to tell him the full story in detail. It was not that exciting anyways, so she shrugged, looked up at him and mumbled. “It was alright”

His eyebrows raised in surprised, clearly underwhelmed. “Just alright?” he asks with clear disbelief “Was he nice? Was he cute? Did he kiss you? How was it?” Luke starts, dropping a bunch of questions at once.

It was weird and it made her feel a bit nervous.

“There was no kiss, I’ll tell you that” she said nervously, shyly smiling up at him “I don’t know, it was fine” she kept going with the story, hoping it would go somewhere “we were at this Italian and had dinner, then we took a walk around and had a beer, he’s nice and all that, handsome, his taste in restaurants are good” she said, in a poor attempt to give him an image of this guy, she just hoped it worked.

“That’s easy brownie points there” he pointed out after hearing her last sentenced to then wave at her “carry on”

She legitimately did not have one single clue of what to say after that, because her life and dating life were just not interesting at all, she didn’t need to give any details because there were no details, that was all.

“I don’t know if I like him” she confessed, shrugging a little and letting him know her true feelings.

With this it was just to be expected that he would have a reaction, because he always had some sort of comment about these things, but she never expected him to sit up so fast, than he nearly threw her off the bed and looked down at her with one psychotic face, his forehead scrunched in a frown and his head shaking in disbelief.

“Nooo, you can’t be serious” he said in an argument, she just shrugged “really?” he asked once again “You talked about him like he was the one”

If that wasn’t exaggerating...

“No I didn’t” she negated immediately.

“Yes you did” he argued back.

Right now it was hard to explain why her feelings were like this, because she felt like however she wanted or choose to explain why, he wouldn’t understand, he is drunk and he this is hard to get. She didn’t want him to think she was just this uninterested on every guy she met, because that wasn’t the case, this was just something that wasn’t for her and she would like to make it clear before he decides to put out any kind of conclusion.

“I just think he’s a bit…ugh” she groaned as she tried and failed to get the words out before whispering a quiet “boring”

It was the truth and nothing but the truth and it was only on him to decide if he wanted to understand it or not, she was just too tired, all she wanted is to end the conversation and go to sleep.

“Is he? Really?” he asked, again, a bit concerned.

She nodded, shrugged and made her best to explain without sounding like an asshole. “He never brings up a conversation, it’s always me” she started as best as she could “he is funny sometimes and at times, he has things to say, sure but, he doesn’t make me… you know” she made motions with her hands, trying to explain herself “there’s no spark” she stated “not mention there were a lot of uncomfortable silences, he doesn’t like eye contact at all and I paid for my own food”

Now that was the real bomb drop that he was somehow expecting, because Luke gasped, deeply and frowned even more at that last statement. He considered himself at times as the master of dates, giving the title to himself, of course, so this was something that for him was incredibly unacceptable.

“What a bitch” he said, shaking his head, opting for not making further comments “failed try then?” he asked.

“Very” she nodded “it’s okay, I don’t mind” she said.

It was the truth, (Y/n) did not mind at all; she had other things in mind and none of them included getting a guy like him in her life.

He pouted, looking like he truly feels for her and put one hand on her shoulder in one comforting move that she definitely didn’t need, she felt fine, but was letting him have his moment of supporting best friend because she loved him so much, she didn’t want to steal his storm.

“Come here then” he mumbled, unexpectedly pulling her in one big hug and pressing her against his chest hard.

For the tenth (maybe twentieth) time of the night, he has hugged her more than he ever has before and she didn’t know if she likes that or not. She followed his lead as best as she could and wrapped her arms around him as he did the same for her.

“I guess we didn’t get lucky tonight, huh?” He mumbled in her ear, nuzzling his nose against her hair and rocking then slightly.

“I guess” she said, chuckling and rubbing his back in a comforting move. It was really not a big deal.

By the second his hug was getting tighter and the air was slowly becoming just a bit more difficult to get to her lungs, but he was going in and he didn’t care at all of how hard he was going in. She said nothing. She just let him do whatever he wanted until she felt the minutes passing and it started to feel like this was being taken a bit dramatically for what it really was. She couldn’t say much though, he wasn’t completely in his five senses, he would usually take things out of context in this kind of situations.

“(Y/n)” he said in an oddly soft voice as he looked down at her and she seemed obligated to do the same, doing some intense eye contact. “It’s okay if your date didn’t work” he lets her know “You deserve someone who makes you laugh, talks to you for hours and pays for your food on the first date” he said with a small smile as she felt his hand rubbing on her back softly.

He was incredibly sweet. Even when this was not necessary at all, the fact that he felt the need to comfort her in a moment like this meant a lot and also said a lot about him, he was just one of the sweetest human beings alive.

“Thanks, Luke” she said, smiling and watching him show her a full smile back. She loved it, way too much, he was handsome and watching like this made her want to admire him even more. But there was something…It has been bugging her for a while and even though it was a shame to break the moment, she didn’t think she would last one more minute like this, it was becoming a lot. “Oh, crap, I can’t, uh” she said, closing her eyes shut and putting a hand on his chest to push him apart “you smell like bar” she let him know, before taking a step back.

The fact that Luke smelled like beer, whiskey and marijuana was killing her from the inside out, some smells she didn’t mind but others were just unstandable in her book, and this was his best friend pressing her into that musk just because, she could take it for a minute, but its been a while now, she couldn’t take it anymore.

“The moment, remember? Live the moment” he said in a bit of a tired moment, trying to get his arms around her one more time and bring her in another hug.

“I’m trying but you stink” she laughed a little, pushing him back once again. He whined. “Be real, did you just come here because I make you shower after you get wasted?” she mocks, pushing him away even more and laying down on the bed herself.

“No” he shook his head and moved to sit on the bed “Because you’re my best friend and I love you so much” he said in a playful voice reaching out for her soft spot on her hips and squeezing, making her squirm at the touch “and can we talk how much I love your hungover day pancakes? They’re the best” he compliments, doing that one more time before she moves away and captures his hand, just like he did to hers before.

“Oh I see” she laughs, keeping both hands down and not letting him go from her hold “you’re using me for pancakes, okay, I see how this goes” she shook her head, removed her hold and went back to look for some comfort, making sure to bury herself on her own covers real good. “Well, tomorrow we’re having oatmeal for breakfast if you don’t shut up”

He gasped with one very dramatic expression, and climbed over to her side, shaking his head along the way and making sure he was being more than annoying, extra annoying, but still somehow adorable.

“I’m sorryyy” he whined in one drunken voice, getting a little too close to her and whining for a second time “I-am-sorryyy”

“You keep saying that” she said, moving her blanket to cover her mouth and nose to evict the smell “move, please, I want to breathe pure clean air” she asked nicely, bathing her eyes playfully at his pouty face.

Surprisingly, he was apparently tired enough to not argue anymore and he took a step back without an argument for once in his life. He just gathered himself, moved to the edge of the bed and opted for unbuttoning his shirt, making himself comfortable and at home.

“Can I sleep here?” he asks after he gave up on being one annoying drunk and decided to rest his mind a little bit.

She sighed, pressed her lips together and sighed “I don’t know about that” she shrugged, shaking her head “Will you shower?” she asked in one serious tone.

“Ugh, yes” He said, rolling his eyes at her before looking back at her direction “With soap and everything”

She couldn’t help it, she had to laugh. “Will you go and look for your own blankets?” she asked, with quiet chuckles coming out of her lips.

Now he really did pout, it was no secret that he liked stealing covers and with his large body, she was always the one that ended up losing the case and had to fight her way into having those covers back.

“But yours are so soft” he said, whining before insisting a bit more “please, just say yes, please, pleasee” he kept whining, going back to his annoying self before she had enough.

“Okay Fine! Sleep here” she said, raising her voice just enough to make him stop “but please put on some clean clothes and shower, I’m begging you” she said in a beggy voice “you stink” she pointed out, rolling on her side of the bed.

“I smell great, thank you very much” he said, in a small argument, before getting up, taking the first pair of shorts that he could find in his assigned drawer of her closer and walked straight to the bathroom “I’ll be back” he announced, peeking through the door and winking at her “You’re the best” he mentioned, disappearing inside of the room.

“I know” she bragged, looking at him through her shoulder and she rolled in a more comfortable position and let him go finish his business.

She didn’t even need to mention to him to leave the door open just in case, he already knew, the rules were clear under her roof and she didn't need to repeat herself twice, they have been here a thousand times before, this was not something weird for any of them.

Now she was able to relax and sink in her own mind, that after this last conversation was just everywhere and nowhere at the same time. She just didn’t know what to think. She felt like he had a little too much hope on her, that maybe one of these days she would find her one, and she had too little hope and thought that it was highly possible that she would end up alone for the rest of her life and maybe with one or two puppies. It was just as simple as that. She was not for everyone and she was having a bit of a hard time getting her way in the dating life.

There were reasons for that and she knew them very well, but she didn’t know what exactly was the way for her to fight through her own mind and become another version of herself, a better one that people liked a bit more.

That’s why she felt so conflicted about such a dumb thing.

Maybe it was wrong for her to think that way and maybe it was wrong that she blamed Luke for being one of those reasons, because ever since she met him he has done such a big impact in her life that by this point she could really not imagine a moment in her future life without him being there; and at the same time, it also pained her to think that even when neither of them would ever push each other out of their lives, he would never be for her in the way she wished for, because what she wanted was just a dumb fantasy and a crush, what she needed was too grow up and look for something else, because whatever she had was not made for him and he was way out of her league, she would have to get used to the fact that it was never going to happen.

...and that was exactly what killed her from the inside out, she just couldn’t seem to accept it.

She loved this guy with her whole heart, she got him and he got her in ways she couldn’t describe, and the fact that their friendship seemed like a restriction just made her wish for more; she just couldn’t help but think, she wished she had the guts to step up for herself, while he stepped up to other people and left her aside for other kinds of love. It was just so hard to understand...

It was not her place, that’s what hurt the most.

This were the kinds of moments that reminded her each time, he counted on her through the good ones and the bad ones, but even when he was desperate for love and a bit more, and she was too, she was never going to be that option, because her title didn’t let her take the place she wanted the most.

She loved him to death, but he loves her in a different way…

… and as poisonous as that was, she loved it anyway.

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