#i brought them into my room that ive spent weeks trying to clean and they immediately started insulting it
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dragons-and-yellow-roses · 1 year ago
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Just heard The Moon Will Sing by The Crane Wives and I'm UNWELL
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janiceloreen · 2 years ago
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(Warning: medically explicit, and to serve a reminder to men that this post is no laughing matter, and the issue cannot be ignored, so please take very good care of yourself in good health!)
I said I was going to write more posts,……..but it was two months ago. Greeting 2023 was not all I expected and it came down to simply a medical halt in my family. Two days after Christmas, my husband started to not feel well, and complained of a dull soreness “down there” (groin/penis area). I took a look at his area and knew this wasn’t good. The area was red and swelling. Husband went to see the doctor the same day in the afternoon. The doctor was a lady, and without checking his area and ordering bloodwork, she jumped to conclusion that he has STDS and told him to “stop sleeping around”. He looked at her in disbelief, as he saw she gave him a bad judgmental, rude manner attitude. So, she did not do much for him but to send him home and get better. By New Year’s Eve, it got worse that he got admitted overnight at the local small town hospital for IV antibiotics and monitoring. By morning, on New Year’s day, i had to drive my husband to the city hospital 2 hours from home (don’t worry, my boys are old enough to care for the house, and my neighbours checked on them like as if there are no parties being held) to be seen by a urologist. I stayed by his side.
Within 4 hours in ER, with ultrasound and CT scan completed, the urologist/surgeon came to see my husband and told him he needs an emergency surgery that night as the scan showed the unexplained injury to his penis and scrotum and the swelling from UTI that needed to be brought down to normal. My husband’s cousin texted me to come to her house in the city for supper while he underwent surgery. She and her family had the guest room ready for me to stay overnight. The surgery lasted three hours to repair the damage as well to drain the infection. So his cousin and I went back to the hospital that night to see my husband as he was out of recovery from surgery and wheeled to his own room. It seemed that while he was happy to see his cousin and talked a lot with nurses, he didn’t seem to remember I was here. I try not to let it bother me, so I had to prepare myself to be a caregiver to him.
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That night, I didn’t sleep well at all. It wasn’t the guest bed that was not comfy. It was dreams of changes in routines that I have to put way more effort to helping my husband recover. By morning, my husband’s cousin put together cranberry juice and snacks to keep my husband happy and occupied in the hospital for a few days. Husband wanted me to go home and care for our boys while he was in good hands of nurses who changed his dressings twice a day every single day. He spent a good six days in hospital until discharge day as I drove back to the city to take him home. The local pharmacist prepared the prescriptions for him upon getting home. Everyday, he has to have his dressings changed to keep his incisions clean and infection free. In week mornings, he has to go to the homecare office to get his dressings changed. Weeknights and weekends, he has to go to the local hospital for the nurses to change his dressings. I had to drive him twice a day, which threw me off on the routines. He was the breadwinner of the household, and because he cannot work until further notice, I had no choice but to go back to the workforce on a part time position, cleaning rooms at a luxury chain hotel. Would you believe I lost 60 pounds in a month, cleaning up to 15 rooms within 8 hours per day? Not sustainable on my weight loss, but at least I’m not a heavy woman now.
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I’ll continue my story as bed is calling me.
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jackrrabbit · 4 years ago
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Adversary /// Overhaul x f!Reader (18+)
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Summary: You make a deal with the devil to save your life, but it turns out Overhaul’s not interested in your soul.
A/N: Remember when I said I was going to do a fantasy collab and then dipped for like 9 months? Hahaha…anyway…
@pleasantanathema @ present-mel @shadowworks—if it’s not too late, here’s my part for the Pleasant & Strider Fantasy AU Writing Collab from a million years ago. Go check out the masterlist and gorge yourself on these amazing pieces!!
Tags/Warnings: dubcon, demon fuckery & occult things, big heresy/sacrilege/perversion of religion, sex in a church ft. Catholic sex guilt, other than that it’s not that bad lol, inexperienced reader, mild degradation, shameless camp and demon-fucking clichés, Overhaul calls you “little girl” 👉👈
He doesn’t look like a demon.
Not that you really know what demons are supposed to look like. But…red skin, right? Fangs and claws and swirling masses of bad energy. Maybe cloven hooves for feet. Yes, that’s the Disney version—but even if you didn’t expect a cartoon personification of evil, you didn’t expect this.
He looks like a doctor, you think. Lab coat hanging open, surgery mask pushed down under his jaw, stethoscope draped over his shoulders. No, he’s a little young to really look like a doctor…an intern, you amend, shifting back in your hospital bed. He looks like he fits right in here, not a hair out of place. Except for, you know, the polished black horns curling out of the sides of his skull.
Overhaul. It was written in the book. That’s the only thing you have to call him in your head.
He’s standing in the center of the sigil you drew at the foot of your bed before midnight, surveying the room critically without meeting your gaze. He looks annoyed—that’s not a good sign, is it?—but then again, of course he’s annoyed. You’d be annoyed too if you got summoned out of your cozy hell dimension in the middle of the night. According to the book, you’re lucky he even showed up…although ‘lucky’ isn’t really how you’d describe yourself most days.
“So,” Overhaul says after a long moment of silence in which you question every choice you’ve made in your relatively short life. “You’re dying.”
You nod.
“And you don’t want to be.”
You nod again, wondering if you’re supposed to be contributing more to this conversation. It’s a bit difficult when your mouth is so dry it feels like you’ve been eating dirt, but you suppose being in the presence of an unholy servant of Satan will do that to a person.
“Fine.” He sighs, frowns, and then finally lowers his gaze onto yours—and you shiver.
Those eyes. No human has eyes like that.
“Make me an offer,” Overhaul tells you, and through his open mouth you catch a flash of sharp white teeth.
Okay. Okay. The chirping of the heart monitor speeds up (as if it weren’t obvious enough that you’re terrified) and you fold your knees up to your chest and fidget with your ring and think. He’s giving you a chance to establish parameters. You’re supposed to start with his end of the deal, the thing you want from him. That’s what it said to do in the grimoire, aka the 19th century demonology volume your creepy cousin brought back from her pagan anthropology research trip in rural France. The one you keep hidden under your bed because your mother would burn it if she knew you were reading about summoning demons.
Offer nothing to a hell creature without first telling him your price. You know the words by heart, both the winding calligraphy of the original French from the grimoire and the rushed scrawl of the English translation your cousin left for you in sheets of lined paper layered between the pages of the book for you to read. Really, this is her fault. She was the one who slipped you the book, who told you that it worked, who snuck you the ingredients for the summoning. She was the one who left a bookmark at the chapter on this particular demon, one that specializes in ‘Contrat pour Remédier au Déséquilibre des Quatre Humeurs’, which she said meant a contract to cure any illness. Even his ‘name’ is translated in her hand, practically an afterthought in the margins of the page.
‘Le Malin qui Ravage et Rebâtit’— Overhaul?
You looked up the literal meaning of this phrase on your own. It did not reassure you.
“Girl.” His voice is cold, irate. Your eyes snap back up to his and it feels like that burning gaze is laser-beaming into your skull. “Do not test me. My time is limited…as is yours.”
You swallow. “How long do I have left?”
“Less than a single human year,” he tells you without a trace of sympathy. “Seven months, twelve days, three hours. Or so. You’ll be too exhausted to leave this bed in four months, and the pain will become intolerable in six… By the end, you’ll wish—“
“Stop,” you breathe out. The heart monitor is beeping wildly and you squeeze your knees into your chest, trying to calm down your breathing. “Stop, I—I want to live.”
“Of course you do.” Overhaul’s lip curls. “How very predictable.”
Be specific, you remind yourself, doing your best to ignore the stifling disapproval from the man—the demon—in front of you. Something about him (maybe how clean-cut he looks, maybe the indisputable authority in his demeanor) makes you want to impress him. But you didn’t turn your back on your religion—you didn’t draw pagan symbols on the floor in chalk, fill silver cups with various questionable substances (including your own virgin blood), and turn the crucifix your mother hung over your bed upside-down so you could let a demon make you feel guilty for wanting to survive. “I want to be cured. I’m okay with whatever natural death I have instead when I’m older, I just don’t want to die of this illness. I want you to make me healthy.”
“Simple enough. What else?”
‘Simple’? Your heart surges with something you’ve felt very little of since your initial diagnosis—hope. “T-That’s it. Just the cure.”
Overhaul glares at you. “Humans… Every vice in the world available to you, and you limit yourselves to the basest priority of survival.”
“But you can do it? You can cure me?” you persist.
Overhaul steps forward (quiet, so quiet you wonder if he really moved) and holds a hand out to you past the foot of your bed—you hesitate, and a second later you can see the muscles in his hand flex, stretching the latex of his plastic gloves tight over his knuckles.
Just do it. You give him your hand. Carefully. Like you’re scared the contact will burn you. It doesn’t (although his skin feels warmer than yours), but after a moment his grip tightens, sliding down past your hand to circle the fragile bones of your wrist and squeeze.
“Ow?” You wince.
The demon’s eyes flicker closed for a second, lips moving silently like he’s talking to himself—and then he drops your hand unceremoniously back onto your lap. “You could be cured before the sun rises this morning. I doubt your stay in the hospital will extend past the end of the week.”
He sounds bored, voice as flat and passionless as it was earlier, but your heart is soaring. Cured. You’ve lived with this illness for so many years, you can’t remember the last time someone told you you could be cured. And getting out of the hospital that soon? You can just imagine taking down all the decorations from the walls of your room here and setting them up in your old bedroom at home. You could see friends on the weekend and not take an oxygen bag, you could get a job or—or apply to college, you could have a life—
“That is…assuming you have something to offer me in exchange for the cure.”
Your stomach drops. You’d almost forgotten about the other half of the deal.
“Don’t tell me I came all this way for nothing.” Overhaul steps back, and the orange light of the candles you set sends strange shadows over his arrogant face. The fires look brighter now, and you find yourself tracing the lines of those shining black horns. In an odd way, they look natural—so organically framing his temples that you can’t imagine him without them.
“N-No, of course not. I have some money—I mean, my mom has some, and I can get it for you…” Which is half the truth. If you know anything, it’s that your mother’s spent most of her savings on your treatment and care. You probably have more debt than you have money in the bank right now—you’d try to get rid of that, too, if you hadn’t read in the book how important it is to keep your request as simple and straightforward as possible.
…Although it’s apparently not enough. Overhaul’s eyes narrow, molten gold irises carved into slits. “Even if I had a use for human money, do you really believe your life is worth so little?”
“No—no,” you say quickly. “I just thought—in case you were interested—”
The air crackles with energy, the candle flames spark bright blood-red, and the hair on your arms stands straight up. “I am not.”
“Okay! I get it.” You wave your hands back and forth, pulling your IV line from side to side with the motion. The book was very clear about staying calm and rational while you work out the terms of the deal, but that’s easier said than done when you have a real live (live?) hell creature in front of you. You always knew this was going to be the hard part—all the stories say there’s only one thing that a demon would be interested in, and no matter how inviting the prospect of living past this illness is, you know you’d rather die than sell your immortal soul to the devil. “I’ll give you anything except my soul! And—and don’t hurt anyone I care about, or— just don’t hurt anyone, okay? Other than that, if there’s anything I can give you, I will.”
Overhaul’s lip curls, baring a thin strip of those unnaturally sharp canines. “And is your soul really so valuable?”
This throws you for a loop. Isn’t that the standard deal? A soul for a wish? That’s how it’s supposed to work—at least in this twisted version of reality where you can summon a demon to perform unholy miracles for you. But if you think about it, it doesn’t really make sense, does it? Why would your soul be valuable to him? You can’t form an argument, especially since you’re not willing to barter it away in the first place.
Your mouth is pursed open as you search for a response, but Overhaul doesn’t seem willing to wait. A gloved hand wraps its way around the railing at the side of your bed, and he leans in closer. “Little girl…what makes you think you possess anything I desire?”
Little girl. You’re not a little girl, you’re a grown woman—and yet there’s no untruth in the statement. In front of him you feel insignificant, immature, weak. You have nothing real to offer, and something tells you that you’re not going to get rid of the demon you summoned without a sacrifice you’re not willing to make.
You twist your ring around your finger—the nervous habit you haven’t bothered to break because you’ve always had more important things to worry about—and the glint of silver in the candlelight must catch Overhaul’s eye because before you even notice him moving, your delicate hand is trapped in his larger one to give him a better view of the tiny piece of jewelry. “What is this?”
“It’s—um, a ring. A purity ring.” Has he never seen one before? Well…actually, that makes sense.
Overhaul turns your hand over in his without touching the band of silver. He’s looking at it closely, inspecting the lovingly engraved cross in the design and the inscription on the other side. “Matthew 5:8,” he reads out.
“…Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God,” you recite cautiously. It feels wrong to speak the words in front of him, but somehow you can’t help yourself.
Overhaul’s hand doesn’t leave yours. “This ring is important to you.”
“It’s a symbol of a—a promise I made to God. To save myself for my future husband.”
“To ‘save yourself’? To save what?”
You can’t believe you’re explaining this to a literal demon. You close your eyes and inhale slowly and taste smoke. “My…virginity. It’s a promise that I won’t have sex until I enter into a biblical marriage.”
At this, Overhaul is quiet. You give him a moment to answer, half expecting him to question why you think God cares about your sexual status (honestly, you’d be lying if you said you haven’t wondered this yourself), but he stays quiet until you peek up at him to try and gauge the look on his coldly handsome face.
He’s still staring at the ring. He hasn’t touched it—maybe he can’t, because of the cross?—and through the latex, his skin feels hotter than a human’s is supposed to be.
“Is there…” you start, but you trail off when you realize you have nothing to ask. You give a little tug to try and take your hand away and you’re surprised when your wrist actually slides out of his grip to fall back on the nest of sheets in your lap. You didn’t think he’d let you go so easily.
Overhaul turns his head to the side, eyes drilling into you so you feel like you should lower your gaze. The candlelight flickers in strange shadows over his horns. “This will do,” he says quietly.
“What?”
“In exchange for your cure.” The demon taps his own left ring finger, the place where the purity ring sits on your hand, and your heart soars. He actually wants that? It’s just a simple silver band, not worth much, but you’re not going to look a gift horse in the mouth. Maybe it has some special significance because of the religious connotation. Your mother will be angry you’ve lost it, but you’re happy to cope with that if it means living to actually get married!
“Yes!” you blurt out before he has a chance to rethink his offer. Sure, you’ll miss the purity ring—you’ve had it since you were a kid, after all—but there’s no question you’re getting the better end of this deal. At least in your opinion.
Something flashes through his yellow eyes, something you don’t even want to try and identify. “The contract, then.”
You barely have time to notice that his voice has gentled, that it’s practically silken in comparison to before, when the candlelight flickers again and suddenly the contract is everywhere. Everywhere. Writing appears on every surface in the room, covering the walls, stretching over the ceiling, coiling around the sides of the hospital equipment and decorating your bedsheets until you and Overhaul are the only untouched surfaces in sight. The characters are inscribed in red, dark red like—don’t think about that, you tell yourself squeamishly. You can make out some of the letters, even a word here or there—French, you recognize, mixed with what looks like Latin and interspersed with what you can only guess are runes.
“I can’t read this,” you tell him, fidgeting with your ring for what you now realize will be the last time.
“I only need your name,” he purrs, and then you feel a fragile weight in your hand: a feather, pearl-black and glossy and too large to belong to any bird you can think of, its angled tip glistening with wet ink. There’s an empty space in the writing before you, and Overhaul’s gloved hand comes to yours again to guide you into place.
This feels wrong…then again, of course it does. Even if you’re getting off relatively easy and just losing your ring rather than your soul, you’re still making a deal with a demon. You sign your name, forcing yourself to think about the future you have ahead of you rather than a disapproving white-bearded caricature of The Man Upstairs wagging his finger at you for haggling with a literal servant of Satan. People have done worse things to survive, haven’t they? It’s just a ring.
You set the feather down and Overhaul sighs, thick black eyelashes obscuring his intense gaze for a moment—and then the contract is gone, leaving your hospital room as blank and sterile as it’s supposed to be (well, aside from the candles and all the other ritual stuff you threw together to summon a demon in the first place).
“Are you going to cure—heal me now?” you ask.
“…Patience, little girl.” He’s pulling his glove off, peeling it down his fingers to bare the pale skin of his hand. You catch your breath and wonder what this is going to feel like, and then the tips of his fingers meet your cheek and—
you stop breathing.
It doesn’t hurt.
Or if it does, you don’t remember the pain a second later when breath floods back into your lungs. What you do feel is energy. Strength in your muscles, blood pumping through your veins, every inhale and exhale as light as a bird and freer. You feel healthy. You’re surprised you even remember what health feels like but you do: it’s like you’ve only been half alive, and now life is surging into you and through you and around you, bubbling up in your core like a spring overflowing. You blink rapidly, thinking you might cry from the sheer pleasure of it, but when you open your mouth it’s laughter that comes out. You’re healthy. You’re alive. You barely notice the IV line literally falling off of your skin because the hole where it entered your vein is sealed shut and healed perfectly.
No more needles. No more hospitals. Even without all the monitors beeping out your heart rate and measuring your vitals, there’s not a shred of doubt in your mind that you’re cured.
“Thank you!” you laugh, looking up at Overhaul and for the first time, not caring that he’s evil incarnate. “I feel—I’m okay! It worked!”
“Of course it did.” His expression is inscrutable, but he lets you have a few moments to enjoy your newfound health.
You roll your shoulders back, flex each muscle you can isolate one by one to test, make fists with your fingers and then run them over your hair, which is already thicker and shinier than it was a moment ago. Your body thrums with energy—you want to run, to feel the ground against your bare feet and the cold night air on your face, and you think you could do it! Your legs are already swinging over the side of your cot, ready to run barefoot out of the hospital if that’s what it takes, but before you can stand up Overhaul’s pushing you back down onto the bed.
“Have you forgotten your end of the bargain already?”
Honestly you did forget, but only for a second, only because you were so excited to just be outside again. “Oh, yeah. Of course.” Your hand goes to your left ring finger, ready to slip the ring off and hand it over, but Overhaul shakes his head.
“Not here.”
“What—?”
You’re falling. Your hospital room is disappearing, the image of your walls and your window and your bed disintegrating into yawning black, and you’re falling through it into nothing, into emptiness, and Overhaul’s still-bare hand in yours is the only anchor you have so you clutch onto it and squeeze your eyes shut. You want to scream—that’s the sane thing to do when you’re falling through miles and miles of empty space, right?—but when you open your throat the sound is swallowed up just like the light was…
Overhaul’s hand burns into yours, an improbable lifeline that you pull closer more out of terror than conscious thought. The slick, empty air rushes around you and you think I am going to die like this and then, incredibly, as soon as you’ve accepted your imminent demise, you feel your back mold onto a chilled, flat surface, vertebra by vertebra up to the back of your head, as if you’ve been lain down onto it.
Your heart thuds in your ears and you brace for an impact because your body hasn’t quite accepted yet that it’s not falling anymore—but at the same time, you know you’re lying down on something. You pry your fingers away from their vice-grip on Overhaul’s arm and feel around blindly for what’s underneath you, and when it seems reasonably tangible you let yourself open your eyes.
Way above, vaulted dozens of feet over your head, is a ceiling studded with gilt-edged frescoes and stained glass. It’s raining (even though it wasn’t in the hospital, you think) but through the massive panes of colored glass there’s enough oily blue light to make out that you’re in a church.
You’re in a church, with a demon. Isn’t that against the rules?
You sit up stiffly and look over at Overhaul, who’s standing at your side and looking down at you…which is how you realize the soft, cold surface you’ve been deposited onto is the blanket on top of the altar in the sanctuary. “Where...did you take me?”
“You should know this place.”
And you do, when you look around. It’s empty now and you’ve never been here at night, but this is a church your mother would bring you to when you were little, back before the disease got so bad you couldn’t risk traveling to it anymore. This is where you took your purity vow…the ring feels heavy on your hand. “Why—why—“
“I can’t stand human hospitals. Filthy places… How that reek of illness and death doesn’t bother your kind, I��ll never understand.” Overhaul pulls his latex glove back on. He’s dressed differently now, no longer impersonating a doctor—black shirt, black pants, and a…bird mask in red leather and gold. So are you, as a matter of fact. Instead of your hospital gown, you’re in a gauzy white dress that’s already been pushed up to pool around the tops of your thighs.
The slip is too thin for the cold, and you can feel your nipples standing up under the cloth so you fold your arms over your chest and hug yourself. “Why did you take me here?” The sound of your voice echoes off the walls eerily and you wish you hadn’t spoken so loudly. The reflection of your words sounds girlish, nervous.
“I told you. Your side of our contract.” Even in this dark, the angular features of his face are clearly concentrating—on you. “Are you already having second thoughts? Such a fickle little thing…”
“You mean the ring?” You reach for it again, ready to tear it off and throw it at him if that’s what it takes to see your deal through, but Overhaul snatches your hand away, pinning it above you.
“Not the ring,” he says. “The promise.”
The…promise?
A chill makes its way down your spine despite the heat radiating off the demon’s body and onto yours. “I don’t understand.”
“The promise,” Overhaul repeats—and you hear a sound almost like wings flapping and then he’s on the altar with you, knees straddling your hips as a single hand holds both your wrists above your head. “To remain a virgin until marriage. Your promise to God.”
A streak of lightning cracks down on the other side of the stained glass window behind the altar, illuminating the room briefly in spectacular pits of red and orange and yellow…and then it’s dark again, and the only color you can make out is the gold in Overhaul’s eyes.
“I’m going to break it,” he murmurs, lowering his head toward your ear right as the answering thunder rolls through the sanctuary, up through the altar, up into you.
///
Méfiez-vous de son piège, the grimoire said. Beware of the catch.
Of course it wasn’t just a ring.
Overhaul’s fingers are in—inside you, his middle and ring finger pumping through the length of your cunt like they belong there, like you were made to be touched this way. A mixture of your juices and your own spit cling to the latex because he made you suck his fingers before he put them in you and he hasn’t bothered to take his gloves off—not that you asked. You’ve been too busy biting your lip to try and muffle the moans that he keeps forcing out of you. He’s bracing himself on top of you with one hand and fingering you with the other, so your own hands are free to push into your eyes and hide your face…until he yanks your arm back and stops.
“Look at me.”
Your eyes are screwed shut and you shake your head back and forth, the movement shuddering your whole body right down to your pussy wrapped around Overhaul’s fingers. He slows the movement and kneels back, pushing one of your thighs up into your chest as he does it.
“Look at me.”
And you’re not sure whether it’s some unearthly power he has over you or the plain old deterioration of your willpower, but you can’t refuse him. You crack your eyes open and he’s glaring down at you, skin pale as ice in the blue light. Once he’s satisfied that you’re watching, the demon leans back in to fuck your cunt with his fingers, slowly at first and then quicker when he hits something inside of you—a spot, a place on the inner wall of your pussy that makes you feel like you’ve been shocked— heat blooms through you like blood in water and you gasp and he curls his fingers up to pet over that spot again.
“Wait—wait, that’s—it feels—weird!” You’ve never felt like this before. You’re not supposed to feel like this, it’s wrong.
“I understand you’ve never touched yourself, but don’t pretend you don’t like it.” Overhaul says, voice as indifferent and calm as ever even though your cunt is dripping clear sticky liquid over the plastic of his glove.
He pushes back in and grinds his palm over the little button on the top of your pussy—your clit?—and you want to scream. “No, I—I don’t—nnhh...”
Do you like it? The demon’s body is so hot next to yours, like he’s running a fever except you’re the one going out of your mind… You’ve heard metaphors for sexual pleasure before (that it’s like having something to drink when you’re dying of thirst; or that it’s the ultimate act of intimacy, love in physical form) but all of that’s a fucking lie. There’s nothing to compare it to, no reference that makes sense, because it doesn’t make sense—you don’t even want him to keep going, do you? You’re only doing this because you signed your name on a devil’s contract, because you don’t want to die and there’s no alternative…but that doesn’t explain why you feel so warm from the inside out, why you’re squirming and your hips are rocking involuntarily no matter how much you try to keep still. This isn’t right. You feel like you’ve been lied to.
A good girl wouldn’t like this.
Overhaul isn’t going to let you close your eyes, so you don’t—but the sounds coming out of your mouth are so…indecent (and how can you think these things about yourself? the word feels like someone else is saying it when you hear it in your head) that your hand is drifting up to your mouth before you can stop yourself, trying to stifle all of it…
“Let your voice out. I want you to hear yourself moan.”
Long fingers slide their way out of your pussy and then move up to rub quick little circles around your clit and you moan, like a whore, like a girl getting her cunt rubbed by a demon— “Oh, uhhhn—something, it’s—coming—“ There’s something building up in your core—a peak, a climax, something that makes you fist your hands in the nightgown he put you in (so tight you’re surprised the thin fabric hasn’t torn) and tilt your hips up into him, begging without words because you don’t have any to express what your body is asking for…
But he doesn’t give it to you. Overhaul takes his hand away from your pussy and the shock of the cool air after his too-hot touch is almost enough to send you over that edge—almost. Not quite. And without it, you’re left shivering and quaking, thighs twitching as your baser instincts beg you to just put your hand between your legs for once and hump your fingers to completion if the demon won’t do it.
You’re not going to risk that, though. Not when Overhaul’s dragging your body closer, bunching up the blanket on the altar under your spine, so your pelvis is angled to his… He’s already shirtless and you hear him unzipping his pants but you can’t bring yourself to actually look at him, even when you feel something hard and hot nudging up against your inner thigh and then aligning to your sticky wet slit.
“This will hurt a bit, but I want you to look,” he says, and you don’t even understand at first until you make yourself feel it—his cock, pushing up against your tight cunt to finish this, this perversion of what your first time was supposed to be…
And what was it supposed to be? Roses and candles and soft kisses? A nameless, faceless husband unzipping your wedding dress and making love to you with the lights off? The way the demon touches you should be cruel in comparison but it isn’t, it’s lighting fires under your skin and turning your brains to mush, so how is your body supposed to tell the difference?
It’ll hurt, you know that, you’ve heard enough about sex to know that it always hurts the first time for girls…women. It was already a stretch to fit his fingers in your virgin pussy, so of course his cock is going to hurt. You turn your head toward the window at your side and try on look out at the rain drawing rivulets like veins over the glass, something to focus on instead of him.
“I said look,” the demon hisses, and his hips push forward a bit and you bite off a whimper of pain. “Watch me take your virginity…look at your tight little cunt swallowing me up just like it was made to.”
“N-No—“ you whine, even though it’s not like you can ignore it. “Don’t make me, don’t make me look, I can’t—“
“Then look at me.”
It’s what he wants, some kind of wicked satisfaction he gets off on, but you’re lucky enough to even get an option so you choose that one, shifting your gaze up into his face instead of the place where his cock is pressing deeper and deeper inside you. Overhaul’s eyes are half-lidded and it’s hard to tell from behind the mask but the look on his face is…pleasure? No, that would be too human. Restraint, at least. He could just thrust up into your body in one stroke, but he wants you to feel it for some reason.
Maybe because it’s a worse betrayal of your chastity if you want to get fucked.
Lucky for you, though, you can barely feel anything aside from the pain. The heat you felt building earlier is draining out of you even as Overhaul tilts deeper, layering his chest over yours. You’re almost grateful for the modest barrier the dress provides between your torso and the solid muscle of his abdomen. His cock in your pussy feels like it’s too big too deep too much and it’s the first time you’ve felt like your body wasn’t created specifically for this purpose so you hold it tight.
“Does it hurt?”
A second of clarity makes you want to snarl (of course it fucking hurts, I’m losing my virginity to a demon I summoned from hell) and you dig your fingernails into your palms to stop yourself from saying it out loud. Overhaul pulls out a fraction of an inch and then pushes back in and you feel like the breath’s being pushed out of your lungs. “Yes! Yes, it—it hurts—“
“I can make you enjoy it…for a price,” he sighs, settling into a slow rocking motion of his hips pushing into yours.
And you want to, every sore muscle in your cunt is telling you to give in and give up, give him what he wants so you can enjoy it like he says—but you’d rather hate every second of this than make another deal. You shake your head quickly and because you’re still too afraid to look away from him, you don’t miss the look of surprise that flits across his face before he tamps it down. “I don’t—I don’t want to—like it,” you gasp out between thrusts. “It’s better if—if it h-hurts…”
This time it’s obvious—his eyes really do widen, and you feel some petty triumph at having caught him off guard like this. Who’s predictable now? you think—and then he’s lifting one hand off the altar at the side of your head and tugging his glove off with his teeth, and you don’t even have time to be afraid of what he’s going to do to you because it’s too late, his bare fingers are already stroking over your mound and onto your core, massaging into the flesh of your stomach so he can feel his own cock sliding in and out of you—
and it doesn’t hurt anymore?
You only have a second to try and understand—he cured you, he healed the pain from your first time just like he healed your illness?—before he hooks his grip under your thigh and folds your legs into your chest so he can fuck into you harder than before. His cock slaps into your pussy and you can hear it, hear how wet your filthy little cunt is, smeared through with your juices. It’s sick—the sound of skin against skin, and the moaning you can’t hold back, you sound like a woman in a porno and you wish the pain would come back just so you could keep hating what he’s doing to you. “What—what did you do—“
The demon ignores you. “It feels good, doesn’t it.”
“Nn—“ It’s deeper like this…deeper and rougher and you can feel it. Now that the pain’s been reduced to the dull ache of a stretched muscle, you can feel everything—his cock sliding against that same spot in your cunt that makes you want to squeal, the friction of his body moving against your clit, all of it, everything you wanted to block out— he pumps into you and you hear your breath sobbing out a moan a second out of rhythm, the sounds of you bouncing on demon cock echoing over the walls. “Please—ah, ahhh…”
“‘Please?’ Are you begging—me, little girl?” Overhaul pushes your thigh up and drags his cock through you, excruciatingly slow, forcing you to feel the thick head slide over every gummy wall in your slick pussy.
You shake your head, mewl, try to force your hips to stop rocking back into his and grinding your clit against him. But you can’t. You’re a—you were a virgin, for fuck’s sake! Overhaul’s immortal. Probably thousands of years of experience on how to make you feel like you want this, like you’re only alive in the places he touches you… You’re at his mercy, if he has any. You never stood a chance.
“Then are you begging your god?” His body lowers directly onto yours and like you’re being controlled by puppet strings your arms fold around him and rake your fingernails uselessly into the smooth skin of his back. You can feel the vibration of his mirthless laughter through his chest. “It must hurt terribly…to know he isn’t listening.”
“Don’t—stop, please,” you sob. “Don’t say—don’t stop—please!”
“Listen to yourself, girl—“ Overhaul’s breath is faster now, but you don’t have time to question it because you feel your peak coming again, the tension rising up through your cunt and your abdomen, harsher and crueler than when his fingers were in you but you want it just as much. More. “Has he ever answered your prayers? Has he...ahh, fuck—who’s the one giving you what you need?”
“No— please, please just let me let me, please—“ You’re talking nonsense now, begging for the release—at least then it’ll be over, and you need it, you need it so badly you feel your muscles locking up, cramping, your ankles crossing each other behind Overhaul’s back.
“Good girl,” the demon breathes, and then he lifts off you so he’s kneeling upright with the two of you still connected, his thick, heavy cock still speared in your pussy, and his fingers come down again to rub at your clit. Everything’s so wet you can hear the motion of his fingers slicking themselves through your juices, sliding up and down the little button over and over and it feels so good that a tiny part of you almost wants to drag it out, to savor it, but the rest of your body is going to die, is going to go crazy if the demon doesn’t let you cum right now, right now, right now!
And he does. Praise the Lord. The pads of Overhaul’s fingers pass over your clit one last time and your head rolls back, your throat moves but you can’t even make a sound, your legs shake and you cum.
You didn’t know it was like this.
Your cunt squeezes down on his cock, throbbing and pulsing and your toes literally curl (you didn’t think that was a real thing!) and your vision goes black for a moment and—oh fuck oh fuck i want this i want more how is it possible that i’ve never felt like this—you understand, more intimately than ever, why sex is wrong:
because nothing that makes you feel this good could possibly come without a cost, could it?
///
It must take longer than you thought for you to come back to your senses, because when you regain awareness of your body you’re in your hospital bed. You’re clean, too, and you wonder for a second if Overhaul bothered to clean you up? Or no…he probably just snapped his fingers and transported you back to your room. You’re not really sure how it works.
What you are sure of, however, is that you just got fucked by a demon. You’re sore in places that you didn’t know it was possible to be sore, and there are already bruises forming on the flesh of your thighs from how tight he was holding you. You don’t really have time to inspect these, though, because apparently your…ordeal (if you can call it that) isn’t over.
Overhaul’s still here.
He’s facing the hints of sunrise through the east window, dressed again in the immaculate lab coat and surgeon’s mask. “You’re awake,” he says without looking at you.
You nod hesitantly. You’re not really sure what the protocol is in this situation, but at least you’ve finally held up your side of the contract, right? And so has he. Despite having been up all night doing sinful things, you’re still itching to get out of this bed and test the limits of your healthy body. “You’re…going to leave, right?”
“Yes—”
At that, you sigh in relief and settle back into your starched bedsheets.
“But there’s one more thing you owe me.”
“Goddamnit,” you swear for the very first time in your life. After what you just did, taking the Lord’s name in vain seems like a relatively minor sin.
Overhaul’s mildly irritated expression doesn’t change, but he holds his hand out to you, palm up, the way you imagine someone would if they were helping you out of a car or requesting a dance at an old-fashioned ball. And really, you want all of this to be over—you want to get out of this hospital, you want to taste what the air outside is like, you want to distract yourself from what you just gave up in exchange for a future. At this point you’re just going to have to hope God isn’t as picky about the whole premarital sex thing as you grew up believing.
So you put your hand in Overhaul’s.
Slowly, carefully, like he’s afraid it’ll burn him, he slides your purity ring down your finger and balances it in the palm of his bare hand. It sizzles when he touches it, glowing orange until it eventually burns down into a ash-black circle in the center of his palm. Once he’s satisfied that your pretty little ring has been reduced to nothing more than a scorch mark, he closes his hand around yours and you feel something sharp, painfully hot, etching onto your finger.
It’s over in a second, but you still yelp and yank your hand away from him as soon as he lets you. “Ah—ow, what was that?”
He burned you, he literally burned you! He’s already healed it, but there’s still a thin, pale scar, an intentional one left wrapping around the skin at the base of your left ring finger. Like a wedding ring.
When you look close, you can make out a symbol on the back of your finger where the cross used to sit—and even though your conscious mind doesn’t recognize it, the sight of it rings out something inside your ribcage, deeper and truer than flesh and blood. It’s the devil’s mark, you think. It’s his.
“…A promise,” Overhaul says softly, and even though it’s a chilly morning, you can feel the heat of his hands on yours a long time after he vanishes back into the dark.
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mayah-bay-bee · 4 years ago
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Hello! This is my first time making a request like this so I am pretty shy about it and I apologize if anything sounds weird... >///<
May I please request some soft dom Tamaki smut, with a timid female reader who feels insecure about her body (and herself in general)? Perhaps with some reassurance and comforting words from Tamaki as he makes love to the reader, if that is okay?
Of course, you do not have to if you do not want to/do not have time/are not comfortable/any other reason, I perfectly understand. Thank you very much, have a lovely day. <3
𝚈𝙾𝚄 𝙼𝙰𝙺𝙴 𝙼𝙴 𝙵𝙴𝙴𝙻 𝚂𝙿𝙴𝙲𝙸𝙰𝙻..
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Tamaki x Fem!Reader
A/N- Sooooo i decided, to make Y/N a virgin- Okay before you get on my case, I had valid reasoning. Lovely person requested a timid, shy, insecure Y/N so the only valid thing to do was make her virgin I’m sorry! i really liked this prompt because Tamaki is already a shy baby :) nEways ⚠️REQUESTS ARE OPEN⚠️
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TW: This Fic contains themes such as virginity losing, sex (duh)the reader has a vagina/breasts and just plain lovey-dovey shit <3 if any one these themes bother you please do not proceed. Minors DNI thank you.
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You and Tamaki were having one of those cuddle make out sessions that you always had. By always I mean like once in a million years because you and Tamaki were the shyest, most sweetest babies.
Tamaki didn’t always have time off, but since you were feeling extra insecure lately, Tamaki took his time off and spent it with you. Now, you would never tell Tamaki if you were feeling insecure—he would just figure out by himself.
The way you would avoid him, asking him if he thought you looked nice, never saying no even though he knew you didn’t wanna do something. The man knows everything.
“Is everything okay Y/N?” Tamaki asked in a concerned tone.
How would you put this? I wanna try having sex? no, too forward for you.. “I-Ive been thinking lately..about um us..” You mumbled.
Tamaki shook his head and cupped your cheeks in his hands. “What about us?”
You cleared your throat and glanced into nothingness as you spoke. “I wanna...I wanna try having sex with you!” Your hand was brought up to your mouth as you tried to hush yourself.
Tamaki’s eyes grew wide once he heard the word sex. Did you really want to have sex, let alone lose your virginity to Tamaki of all people? Now tamaki was having those sad thoughts.
“A-Are you sure bunny? W-We don’t have to do that..” You cut his words off with your own, “I want to,”
Tamaki, the shy baby he was, started to rub your hips hesitantly. He wanted to make you feel good, as it was your first time and he wasn’t all that experienced. His hands slowly trailed up your torso and you stopped him.
Your eyes were teary and you shook your head. “Tama I- I don’t know if I want you to see me like that yet...” You trailed off as Tamaki cupped your cheeks again.
“Hey, it’s- it’s okay. I bet you’re really beautiful anyways,” He kissed down your neck and pulled your bottoms down, as well as your undergarments. “Um.. I’ve never really...” You hushed him and reassured him.
Your fingers tangled in his hair. “Just... we could go slow today alright?”
He immediately rushed at your reassuring words and pulled his sweatpants down. “Oh- Oh,” He yelped a bit and frantically got a condom he prepared for this moment from his nightstand and slipped it on. “I wanna make you feel really good bunny.” He hummed.
You didn’t know whether or not to submit yourself but you did anyways, spreading your legs happily for him. “Tama..” You whined. “What if I feel bad?”
Tamaki covered your mouth. “Shhh, it’s okay, i bet you feel heavenly.” He slipped his finger into your dripping pussy and got you adjusted to the stretch bettors thrusting them slowly.
The feeling was too much, your face was red and hot and you were begging for more friction in between your legs. Tamaki seemed to notice this and thrust his fingers faster.
“You like that? Bunny, don’t you love what i’m doing to you?” He mumbled to you while hovering over your warm body.
All you could do was whine and nod, spreading your legs as far as they could go. “You want me inside already? You didn’t even let me stretch you out.” He cooed and pulled his fingers out with a erotic popping sound.
You couldn’t even form a thought before he thrust into you, making sure to be as soft as possible for you.
He waited until you were fully adjusted to the stretch and started to thrust. “God- you like that?” He grunted. The sound of your little mewls and skin slapping filled Tamaki’s room. “So...tight, If i relax i could just cum—“
You nodded to his words, your voice getting a little louder as you told him you was gonna cum soon. Tamaki shook his head at this and grabbed your wrists with one hand, circling your clit with his thumb on the other hand. “You can’t cum, not until I say at least!” He thrusted more, trying to make this experience the best for you, he pulled all the way out and rammed his hips into you. “Look at you, doing so well on Tama’s cock.” He cooed.
You couldn’t help but clench around his dick, reaching your orgasm before him. He didn’t care, he only cared about your pleasure but dirty thoughts filled his mind as he bucked his hips and reached his orgasm soon after you.
The tightening was too much and he called your name repeatedly as he hunched over you. Tamaki pulled out and sighed, looking down at you. “Are you okay? Was it too much?” He rubbed your hips and whispered.
You just nodded and yawned, pulling your boyfriend down into a hug. “Yeah..Yeah im okay, I love you.” You smiled tiredly.
Tamaki let out a sigh of relief as he disposed of the condom and cuddled you. He could clean up in the morning.
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A/N- OK SOOOOO I TOTALLY FORGOT I HAD THIS- I quickly finished it on mother’s day and I wrote it in mobile so if it has any mistakes please lmk. I’ve had a stressful week and I just love this prompt and i feel like i could’ve done better- ANYWAYS IM GONNA SLEEP NOW ILY GUYS-
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kimnjss · 5 years ago
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desperate housewife | jjk
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⇢ pairing: jungkook x reader (ft. taehyung) ⇢ genre: smut. ⇢ word count: 5.5K ⇢ theme: husband!jungkook, housewife au, established relationship ⇢ rating: explicit. ⇢ warnings: soft angry guk, car sex, nipple play, unprotected sex (stay safe loves!)… this was lowkey kind softcore, ngl.  ⇢ summary: bored with your husband gone all the time, you decide to take up a new hobby... jungkook can only seem to focus on one thing when it comes to your new pastime. ⇢ A/N: this was heavily influenced by desperate housewives, okay. ive been binging it during quarantine nd kind of spit this out lmao. also!! want to apologize if this feels all over the place, kept on stopping nd starting again... so yeah!
The day your husband proposed, he gave you his word that you'd never have to lift a finger once you were married to him. His faith in his career and talents fueling his proclamation. You would've said yes even without it, but it was nice how badly he wanted to treat you like a princess.
You and Jungkook had been together for two years before he decided to get down on one knee. He made it known that he thought you were the one from the beginning and you had always thought, it was soon to tell- but he was right.
Your agreement was no short of immediate, wedding date set for an exact year after that day and you couldn't wait. Jungkook was oddly helpful with the planning and organization, way more than you'd expect a husband to be, but he was genuinely interested.
With his help, you two pulled off a gorgeous ceremony. His family and yours filling the place, watching as you agreed to become one with this man. It was all you wanted. Becoming Mrs. Jeon Jungkook was the best day of your life. Three days after your honeymoon in Malta, Jungkook was urging you to quit your job.
You did.
Jungkook was serious about keeping his word, didn't plan for you to lift a finger at all. A maid was hired to do the cleaning, chef to do the cooking, a yard boy to tend to your pool and pretty garden. You even had a personal driver to drive the car he had purchased for you.
Not once did you think of complaining. It was nice. Not having to worry about this or that or the other thing. Having everything done for you really freed up time for you to do the things that you really liked to do. The only problem was, you've been busy working your whole life you never really had the chance to figure out exactly what that was.
And it wasn't like you could hang out with the husband you loved so much, he hardly had time to cut his hair, let alone hang out with you. So you spent your days at home, chatting with the members of your staff and counting down to the days that Jungkook was able to come home.
It wasn't until you caught yourself in a heated argument with the yard boy about the exact inch length of your front lawn did the realization hit you. You needed a hobby. Shopping, getting your hair and nails done, that wasn't going to cut it. You needed something that was just for you.
You just needed to figure out what that was.
Sat on the couch with your feet propped on an ottoman, you flipped through your catalog. Sulin, the maid, stood across from you, wiping the windows down with glass cleaner. The sound of a car door slam had your fingers stilling, your body perking as your attention was brought to the large window in your living room.
“Mr. Jeon is home,” Sulin informed you, but you were already standing; all but running out the front door. Jungkook was waving goodbye to the man who had dropped him off, hands clutching his way too large suitcase. “Baby!” You squealed, not being able to contain yourself as you leaped for him.
Your husband and his ever so impressive reflexes were catching you easily, allowing your legs to wrap around his waist as he leaned up for a starved kiss. His hands were properly placed on your sculpted bottom, slowly inching up to grip the flesh. A squeal flew from your lips as you pulled back, playfully swatting at his shoulder.
“Do you really think the Jefferson's want an eye full of you groping your wife on the front lawn?” You questioned with a raised brow. Jungkook shrugged his strong shoulders, tilting his head up to reach for your lips again.
“The Jefferson's have been married 30 years, have six kids, I think they know a thing or two about groping.” You pushed the thought of your ancient neighbors going at it, instead deciding to concentrate on the cute dimples indenting your husband's cheeks as he flashed a boyish grin. Not only was this man blessed with deadly good looks, but he also had the heart and spirit of a young child. Things never got boring with him around.
Your hands cradled his face, leaning down the rest of the way to press your lips to his again. “I've missed you so much.” Your words are barely comprehensible, considering your mouth is smushed against his. Somehow, he understands you totally, sharing your sentiment with a wide grin.
His hands finding your ass again, Jungkook holds you to him as he begins taking long steps toward your house. You could feel his length against your thigh with each step he took and you knew exactly what you were in for once you reached the bedroom. Or maybe the kitchen. Hell, he might even give up on the front porch and do it there.
Yeah, things never got boring with Jungkook around.
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An entire week had passed since Jungkook came back home. A whole week filled with laughter, games, impromptu trips, spontaneous dates. A full week of fun with the man of your dreams. Every waking moment was spent together, genuinely enjoying each other that you forgot he would be leaving come Sunday.
This is why you wore a permanent scowl on your face as you neatly folded his clothes, taking on the task to pack his suitcase. Sulin had been doing it when you entered the bedroom, but for some odd reason, you felt like you wanted to. She was more than happy to pass the task on to you, moving to get dinner started.
Since it was Jungkook's last day in the house, Sulin had suggested she made all of his favorite foods for dinner tonight. No protests on your husband's side, of course, and you figured your waistline could suffer if it meant witnessing that huge bunny smile that took over his features.
Warm arms wrapped around your waist, chiseled chin nuzzling into the crook of your neck. Jungkook pulled you into his embrace, taking in the sweet smell of the perfume you prayed whenever you got out the shower. “How's my princess doing?” His tone was soft and caring.
Jungkook knew that you were upset that he was leaving. But he also knew that you weren't upset with him. Couldn't be upset with him because you knew what you were in for from the beginning. It just annoyed you that his job always cut into the time that the two of you got to spend together. He was hardly ever home, never really unpacked when he was home because it was just a matter of time until he was leaving again.
It was like your house was just a rest stop and that annoyed you, passionately. You didn't want to make him feel bad, though. You knew he was trying his best; could tell with how he fought sleep when he was back just so he could spend time with you. It was hard on him too, so there was no reason to make a stink out of it.
You pulled his suitcase closed, zipping it before turning in his arms. Your scowl had morphed into a pout, arms wrapping around his neck. Lifting up on your tiptoes, you pressed a sweet kiss to his lips. “I'm okay. What time is your flight?” You wanted to know just how much time you had left with him.
“Javier will pick me up right after dinner.” Guess you only had a few more hours left with him then. A sigh slipped from his lips, his hands cupping your face and thumb brushing over your cheek. “I won't be gone long this time. Just a week or two and then I have a month off,” He offered up with a grin and you matched it, nodding your head.
“Can we visit that resort when you get back, then?” You looked up at him hopeful, his head was nodding not even giving a moment to think of the request. “Whatever you want. Just put it on the schedule. A whole month, I'm all yours.”
It was like time was on a treadmill whenever you were with him. Before you knew it, dinner was being served and the two of you sat across each other at your way too big dining table. “You know,” He was speaking after some time had passed without either of you saying a word.
You were playing with your food, eating in slow motion as if that would keep time from moving so he wouldn't have to leave just yet. Head lifting at the sound of his words, you tilted your head to the side. “Sammie Fields and a couple of her girlfriends all take dance lessons at the gym across town.”
Face contorted, you tried to figure out why he was offering up this information all of a sudden. “Alright, you got me. Why are you telling me this?” You pushed out a laugh, hoping not to sound too harsh. You just wanted to enjoy your silent dinner before he was being whisked away.
“Maybe you should join them sometime?”
“Is this your way of telling me that I need to start working out? Believe it or not, Jeon Jungkook I'm in-” He was quick to cut you off, quick denying shakes of his hands as he leaned toward you. “No! No, it's nothing like that. I just... you said that you were bored,” Your cheeks darkened, had forgotten that you had shared that with him while catching him up on everything that had been happening while he was gone.
“Oh, yeah. Right. Sorry.” You smiled sheepishly and he shook his head. “I don't really get along with Sammie and her friends. Don't think they'd really care for me tagging along.” It was no secret that the girls on the block weren't all too fond of you. You weren't sure why, but they didn't really seem interested in being your friend – had their little clique made before you even moved in.
And they weren't taking any newbies anytime soon.
“Ugh, I wish you could just come with me. I hate that you're stuck in the house bored all the time.” It had been suggested and shut down when you two first got married. Jungkook didn't really want to travel without you with your marriage so new, so he came up with the idea that you just came along with him.
His manager was quick to veto his proposal, deeming you an unnecessary distraction – the asshole. “I'll be fine, don't worry about me.” You pushed a smile onto your face, but he didn't look convinced; cut into his pork with a quizzical look on his face. His teeth worried his lower lip and you could almost literally see the wheels turning in his head.
“Or! You know what, I could take up tennis?” You suggested, with a grin. “Tennis? Since when were you into tennis?” A shrug of your shoulder was sent in his direction as you reached forward to grasp your wine glass, bringing it to your lips. “It's never too late to learn,” He nodded.
“Are you sure you're going to like it? I mean... not to discourage you, but baby, I've not even seen you pick up a ball. Well, besides...” From the smirk on his face, you knew exactly what he was alluding to. You rolled your eyes, trying to hide the smile that tried to peek through.
“It could be fun,”
You could tell that he was happier now, at ease knowing that you weren't just going to sit around watching grass grow as you waited for him to come back. “Alright, then! I'll get you the best trainer there is. Let me just...” His hand reached for his phone on the table, your hand quick to stop him.
“You don't have to do that, baby. I'm sure there are plenty of good enough trainers at the gym. Cheaper too.” Although you loved being pampered and spoiled by him, you didn't marry him because he was stinking rich.
You married him because you were madly, deeply, truly in love with him- so there was no need for him to hire 'the best' anything for your new hobby.
“I guess if you're sure.”
“I'm sure. I'll head to the gym tomorrow and meet someone,” He nodded, attention being drawn back to the meal in front of him. Finally being able to enjoy his favorite food without worry creasing his brows.
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Two days after Jungkook had left, you were dragging yourself out of bed and heading straight to the gym. You were excited, always had liked tennis and the whole idea of it; you figured it would be fun to actually play it.
Finding a trainer was a lot easier than you had thought it would be. After a brief conversation with the lady at the front desk, she was leading you down a long corridor into a sectioned off area of the gym. More elaborate work out machines were back here, a large TV and a sauna.
“Mr. Kim.” She called to the man running on the treadmill. A fitting long-sleeved top hugged his muscles, loose shorts bouncing with each movement of his strong legs. The woman called out to him once more before he was pulling the headphone from his ear, pressing a few buttons on the machine to slow his steps into a walk.
“What's up?” He replied, a bit out of breath.
“This is Mrs. Jeon,” She introduced you formerly, despite how you insisted she uses your first name. The man cocked a brow, sparing a sideways glance in your direction. Undeniably handsome, a face appears to be carefully structured by the gods. A strong jaw, pink full lips, cheekbones, nose a little large but fitting for his handsome face, dark intense eyes guarded by long eyelashes. Even his eyebrows were pretty, what the fuck?
The man pushed a long finger against the machine in front of him, stopping it completely. “She's in looking for a tennis trainer. I figured you would be fit for it.” He was hopping off of the machine, turning to face the two of you fully.
“Have you ever played before?” His words were directed to you, but you were distracted by the deepness of his voice. Did he really sound like that... all the time? How intimidating. His head tilted, awaiting your answer.
You could feel the heat rushing to your cheeks, desperately trying to rake your brain from what he had just said. “Oh!” You spoke a little too loudly. “Not really, no. I've just always wanted to...” The intense way he was staring at you had your sentence trailing off.
He didn't speak, eyes scanning over you carefully; making you feel small. Even the girl that brought you here sensed the odd tension, shifting uncomfortably on the balls of her feet. His tongue pushed out to lick his dry lips, a smirk taking over his features as he dragged his gaze back up to your eyes. What you would give to know what was going through his mind just then.
“It'd be my pleasure,” His voice velvety sweet with some promised laced in his words. You grinned, taking hold of the hand that he had extended out to you. “I'm Taehyung.” He introduced himself with a small smile.
Taehyung nodded at the sound of your name, going to release your hand from his grasp just as the piece of jewelry wrapped around your fourth finger caught his attention. Mindlessly, his fingers brushed it, his eyes finding yours once again.
There was something going on in his mind, you knew it. Could tell by the furrow of his brow and the smirk on his face. You just couldn't decipher what it was. His hand was dropping yours, slipping into the pocket of his pants.
“Lynn will set you up with my schedule. See you soon, Yn.” Taehyung flashed that teasing smile before tucking his earphone back in and climbing back onto the machine. Lynn led you out the same way you first came, stopping at the front desk to schedule you.
No matter how hard you tried to concentrate on the words coming out of her mouth, you couldn't shake the thought of Taehyung from your mind. It was weird. Sure, you've been swooned by attractive guys before, you were married; not blind. But this was different, he was different.
You didn't know what it was and you were scared to find out. There was no point in either way. These were just tennis lessons. Nothing more, nothing less. You were married so that was it. Halfway home, you wondered if you should turn around and demand a different trainer. Decided against it, surely nothing will happen..., right?
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Two weeks had passed since Taehyung had become your personal trainer. It was fun, learning the sport and getting to know the mysterious man that paid so much attention to your skills. He had this set narrative of what you were capable of and never accepted less, always pushing you and oddly you liked it.
Your game was getting better as the days rolled by. Time no longer standing still with this new hobby of yours. You two met every day at 3 o'clock, most lessons lasting for an hour... maybe two if he wasn't busy, three if he got hungry in the middle. It was fun and you were quickly feeling as though you could think of the man as a friend.
The tension that surrounded you two when the first meeting had died down. You weren't interested, no matter how many smirks he threw in your direction. Jungkook was the love of your life and messing that up was at the bottom of your list. It wasn't even on your list. Taehyung got the hint without you having to spell it out for him. You appreciated that.
A gentle hand on the small of your back stilled your movements, your head turning to face the handsome man standing behind you. “You need to straighten your back,” His deep voice instructed and you nodded your head, following his orders.
He smiled, hand leaving your back to grasp your elbow- the other hand reaching for your wrist. “Tuck your core in when you swing, gives you more power.” The hand on his elbow dropped, splayed fingers landing over your belly button. You brought your arms back, tucking your core in and going for the swing.
You could feel the difference. “Oh! I didn't think it would-”
“What the fuck do you think you're doing?” Your sentence was being interrupted by the booming voice of your husband. His face twisted with anger as he approached the two of you. “Get your hands off my wife!” He shouted, the words making Taehyung release you, jumping back a few steps.
“Jungkook? You're back early.” It was the only thing you could muster in your shock. Never had you seen him this angry before. His hand wrapped around your wrist, tugging you behind him as he stood square in front of Taehyung.
He sized him up, jaw clenched and fists balled. “Who do you think you are? Touching her like that?” Despite having the big muscle pig that was your husband in his face, Taehyung didn't seem the least bit intimidated. Arms crossed over his chest as he stared up at Jungkook, bored.
Sensing this could take a turn for the worse, you decided to step in. “Jungkook, baby. Relax. He's my trainer!” Jungkook only half-listened to your words, squaring his chest as he stepped closer to Taehyung.
“Does your trainer know that you're happily married?” His words were delivered through clenched teeth to the man standing in front of him. Taehyung was rolling his eyes, hands patting at your husband's shoulders.
“I suggest you calm down there, buddy. I can have you kicked out and your wife banned with a snap of my fingers.” He wouldn't do that right? Ban you? You two were friends, he was just saying that?
You didn't want to be the one to call his bluff. Hands finding Jungkook's elbow, you tugged him toward you. “Let's just go, baby.” He scoffed, tugging his hand from your grasp before turning and passing you, stomping up the hill.
You quickly followed behind him, legs moving quickly in fear he might leave without you. He had stopped in front of his car, hands in his pocket. You landed a soothing hand to his back. “Baby, I promise you. Nothing like that was happening. He was just helping me with my form!”
His hand pulled out from his pocket, your big, expensive wedding ring between his fingers. “Why aren't you wearing your ring?”
“Oh.” You could feel your cheeks darkening, embarrassed as if you had been caught. But you hadn't! You just knew what he was thinking and how all of this looked. You reached your hand forward, taking the jewelry from his hand. “I only take it off for training, I didn't want it to fly off.” You tell him, and it's the truth.
He doesn't believe you, rolling his eyes right in your face. “Yeah, fucking right and you just so happened to get paired with the young attractive trainer, rather than someone who is actually qualified.”
“It's not like that! Don't you trust me?” Wedding ring secured back on your fingers, you reached up to cup his face in your hands. You offered a soft smile up at him, thumbs stroking his clenched jaw. “I would never do something like that, baby.”
Scowl not falling, but an arm wrapping around your waist; you could tell he was softening. “It's not you, I don't trust.” He grumbled and you nodded in understanding, standing up on your tiptoes to press a kiss to his lips.
“I know, baby. You'd be the first to know if he tried anything,” Your words are murmured against his lips. The grasp he holds on your waist tightening as he pulls your body tighter against his. You feel his grasp dropping from your hips to your thighs until he's lifting your body off of the ground; easily wrapping your legs around his waist.
Your back is being pushed against the cool exterior of his car, his body pressed tight against yours as his kiss gains intensity. His mouth desperately searching yours as if trying to imprint himself on you. His hand slid underneath the bottom of your tank top, smirking at the realization of your lack of bra.
Jungkook was breaking the kiss, leaving your lips yearning for more of him. Dark eyes stared into yours, heavy breaths leaving his lips as his thumb caresses your hardening nipple. “I can't fucking believe you.” He snarled, fingers pinching at your nipple; making you yelp.
He didn't even allow you a moment to reply, lips crashing against yours with much greed, hunger as his hips pushed up into yours. You could feel how hard he was even through the fabric of his jeans and you wondered if he'd fuck you right here... against his car where anyone could walk by and see you.
The thought had a rush of arousal pooling between your legs. You leaned into his kiss, returning everything that he was giving you. Jungkook's kisses were everything he was; sweet, passionate, determined, horny. His hands dropped from your body, grasping the behind you as his tongue pushed further into your mouth.
With unbelievable swiftness, Jungkook was pulling the car door open, lifting your body off of the car and laying you across the back seat. Reluctantly, he broke the kiss to climb onto you, trapping your body between his strong thighs.
You slid your hands up the front of his shirt, the rapid beating of his heart surprising you. He still wore that scowl on his face and you frowned. “I love you, Kookie. You know that, right?” You offered a sweet smile up at him, which he only nodded to. His hands hastily pulled your shirt up and over your head.
His face was buried in your neck, attacking your slightly sweaty skin with his lips and teeth. Big hands grasped your breasts, teasing them. Hearing the whimpers, the moans that his touches caused did wonders for Jungkook's ego. He loved knowing that he was the only one that could get you like this, see you like this. Fuck that Taehyung guy, you were his and he was more than willing to prove it to you.
He couldn't help the primal instinct to cover your body in his marking to make it completely and utterly clear that you belonged to him. Quickly, his hands were dropping and rounding your body to grasp your ass; using his grip to pull your body against his. At that exact moment, he was sinking his teeth into the skin just above your collarbone, sucking harshly on the spot right after.
“Fuck, Jungkook!” He loved the sound of your sweet moans. Loved it even more that it was his name falling from those pretty lips. Jungkook rolled his hips forward, grinding his hard and growing erection against your scarcely covered pussy. Such a tiny useless skirt, did you really think he'd have nothing to say about you prancing around in this?
Your shaky hands found the dark curls of his hair, tugging at the roots as his lips dragged their way down your chest. You were already so needy for him, back arching in an attempt to push your breasts closer to his lips, hoping he'd take the hint. He did. A breath of relief fell from your lips as his mouth finally wrapped around one of your hardened buds, wet tongue drawing circles around it, pulling desperate moans from your lips.
He was pulling back with a hiss, teeth sinking into the flesh of your tit, making you yelp. His gentle tongue soothed the skin, dark eyes peaking up to admire your lust-filled, half-lidded eyes. A gentle kiss pressed against the marked skin, “You're so pretty like this.” He grinned.
Jungkook reached his hand down to still the grind of your hips that had started without your knowledge, he pinned you against the leather seats and you whimpered. “What is it that you want, baby?” Fuck, his voice. It wasn't often that Jungkook took on a dominant role, sort of liked to go with the flow. But right now, the way he was looking at you, handling you, hand an unfamiliar twist building in your stomach.
There was no way you'd be able to keep your composure if he kept on like this. “I need you, Kookie. I need to feel you.” Never did you think he'd be down for car sex, but you weren't opposed to the idea; not one bit. With that, though, you knew that you had to be quick; there was no telling who could come rushing down the hill. Which meant foreplay wasn't really in the cards for you two right now.
Jungkook was quick with leaning back on his knees, tugging at the buckle of his belt until it came undone. He only pushed his jeans down enough to pull his cock out. No matter how many times you saw it, you always seemed to find yourself mesmerized by Jungkook's cock.
It was no surprise that it'd be long, Jungkook was a big guy and it was only fitting that he'd have a big dick. Rested nicely just inches below his belly button. It was thick too, pretty veins wrapping around the length and a pink tip that had your mouth watering and pussy clenching.
Jungkook watched you expectantly, a subtle smirk on his lips. He had definitely caught you ogling. It took you a moment to figure out why he was looking at you, but you were quick to catch on, lifting your hips to wiggle out of your tiny skirt. “Fuck, baby.” He breathed, eyes fixed on the way your panties clung to your damp lips. You felt your cheeks darkening.
He never had to do much to get you like this. A giggle left your lips, “You're the only one that makes me like this.” You reminded, hands reaching up to reach for his shoulders as you pulled his body down onto yours. The smile that took over his features didn't go unnoticed. His hand was fitting itself between your legs, long fingers rubbing at your folds gently.
Freehand lining the thickness of his head up with your center, and sliding all the way in with one powerful thrust. You let out a loud cry, caught off guard although you expected the intrusion. Gentle lips pressed wet kisses against your skin, allowing you the time you needed to adjust to his large size.
It didn't take long for you to get used to him being this deep inside you. Yeah, he's been gone for weeks, but your body had grown accustomed to him, always recognizing his return. Just a single roll of your hips was enough to get him to fuck forward, the breath he had been holding being let out.
He was quickly losing himself in you, forgetting if he had ever been mad in the first place. It was like he wanted to make sure you felt every last inch of him. Gradually, he was speeding up the movements of his hips, tickling the sweet spots buried deep inside of you before full-blown pounding against them.
Each thrust hit right where you needed him to, high, needy moans fell from your lips. Calls of his name as your nails dug into his back. You could feel yourself climbing higher and higher toward your release. Jungkook's hand grasped tightly on your thigh, lifting your leg to reach deeper inside of you. He was panting, sending you praise, reminding you that you were his.
Nothing else seemed to matter at this moment. Not the fact that you could be caught at any moment, the uncomfortable bend laying in the back seat of his car caused, Taehyung; it was just you two. “Kookie, I'm gonna...” You tried to tell him, the pleasure making its way into your veins and spiking through your body; cutting your sentence short.
He understood you completely, though. “Shh, I got you, baby.” He rasped, eyes finding yours in the cloudy haze of pleasure the two of you had created. He loved to see you like this, fucked out and desperate for him. His hand was sliding between your legs to find your sensitive clit, using his fingers to push you over the edge.
Nails dragged down his strong back, as you clenched down around him. With one final call of his name, you were falling apart, hips bucking and head falling back. The sight of you unraveling, was enough to push Jungkook over the edge. His head ducked into the crook of your neck, teeth, and tongue finding your salty skin. He pounded his hips powerfully into you until his body was stilling.
A drawn-out moan left your lips at the feeling of his thick release coating your pulsing walls. Warmth spread throughout your body as you began to relax under him, breath heaving as your body laid limp against Italian leather.
“Fuck,” Jungkook breathed out a laugh, eyes dropping to watch his dick slip from inside of you. The mixture of your release dripped out of you and he watched, amazed. “You're my perfect girl.” He complimented with a wide smile, droopy eyes lifting to find your smiling face. “I can't believe we just-”
His words were being cut off by a sharp knock against the window just above your head. Your body sprung up, arms wrapping around your body to cover your bare chest. Wide eyes landing on an annoyed-looking Taehyung.
“You can't do that here!” He called through the glass. Jungkook was smirking, reaching for the door to roll down the window. You stopped him, only being able to imagine what type of snarky remark he was about to spew.
“We're leaving!” You called back, officially kissing your weekly tennis lessons goodbye when you saw the scowl on the older male's face. He turned with a roll of his eyes, stalking his way back up the hill. “He's an asshole,” Jungkook noted and you laughed, leaning up to press a soft kiss to his lips.
“Just take me home, want you to fuck me properly.” He perked up at the sound of that, hands quick to adjust his jeans before he was climbing into the front seat. “You lay comfy, I'll have you home in no time.” He grinned, quick with turning the keys in the ignition.
God, you loved this man. With every fiber of your being, you loved him. He was perfect for you and you could never imagine yourself with anyone else. You were sure he felt the same, making sure that you knew it every single day. The time apart only made your heart grow fonder, made every day with him that much more special.
You wouldn't change a thing.
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dilly-oh · 4 years ago
Text
Trashy Romance Novel
    “Naruto, you frigging idiot,” Iruka began hotly, barging into the hospital room, “of all the stupid, brainless things you could have done, this is by far the-”
    He stopped. 
    The person lying in the small bed was definitely not Naruto. It was a grown-ass man with messy gray hair and a faded scar over one eye, the sterile white sheets pulled up over his nose, apparently sound asleep. Iruka stared at him for a long moment, dumbfounded, before it clicked. 
    Oh shit, he thought. This is the wrong room. I'm in the wrong room. I need to hurry up and leave before- 
    The stranger's eyes cracked open and he squinted up at Iruka in confusion.
    “...Who're you?” he croaked out. Iruka managed a rather articulate gurgle of dismay, frozen in sheer mortification. He considered the distance between him and the IV drip, wondering if he could dose the man back to unconsciousness before he could scream or buzz for a nurse. “Are those for me?” the man asked, sitting up in bed to regard the bouquet of flowers in Iruka's arms. He opened his mouth to disagree, but then the sheet slipped off the man's face, and Iruka suddenly thought giving him the flowers might not be such a bad idea. He definitely deserved a thank you after gifting him with...that. He didn't even protest as the alarmingly handsome stranger reached out and took the bundle of flowers, opening the card on top. 
    “You're a dumbass. Love, Iruka.” he read aloud, then looked up at Iruka, batting his eyes. “Aww, babe, you shouldn't have.”
    “Whoa whoa WHOA!” Iruka finally blurted out, his face burning half from embarrassment at the situation, half from the thinly-veiled flirting. “I'm sorry, sir, there's been a mistake. I'm in the wrong room and-”
    “You mean you aren't my doting husband I tragically forgot about due to amnesia and now you have to win back my love by passionately recreating the story of our romantic union?”
    “Excuse me, WHAT-”
    “Sorry, I've been reading trashy romance novels. They're the only books this hospital has. Can't blame me for trying.” The man shrugged, then reluctantly handed back the bouquet. “Who's the lucky person they're actually for? Must be someone real special if you're calling them a dumbass to their face.”
    “My kid brother,” Iruka explained with a sigh. “He's here with a head injury.”
    “Ouch.” The man winced in sympathy. “Poor kid.”
    “Not really. He head-butted a brick wall.” 
    “...May I ask why?”
    “Because his stupid boyfriend walked into it and he had to, and I quote, 'defend his honor'.” Iruka paused, looking the man up and down. Despite being a bit on the pale side, he looked perfectly fine, pun very much intended. It was almost unfair how well he pulled off the hospital gown (although Iruka would much rather be the one pulling it off, wink wink, nudge nudge). “So...what're you in for?” His voice dropped to a whisper. “Was...was it the crappy romance novels? Did they rot your brain?”
    “I have an extremely rare, aggressive form of cancer with only two weeks left to live and the only cure is a kiss from my one true love...” The man swooned back onto the pillow and looked expectantly up at Iruka, who rolled his eyes. 
    “Yeah they definitely did-”
    “Alright you got me. Broke my leg.” He pulled the sheet off his lower half, revealing his legs, one of which was wrapped in a cast, propped up on some pillows. Several encouraging words from friends were scrawled on the white surface in marker, one of them a jarring green highlighter. It almost hurt Iruka's eyes to look at it. 
    “...How did you break it?” he asked, unable to contain his curiosity. 
    “I heroically threw myself in front of a speeding car in order to save the life of my beloved-” 
    “Okay how did you really break it?”
    “Tripped chasing after my pug at the park,” the man admitted with a weary sigh, his shoulders slumping in defeat. 
    “...Is the dog okay?” Iruka asked after a long pause.
    The stranger burst out laughing. It was a nice laugh, warm and contagious enough to elicit a chuckle out of Iruka, who was growing more and more intrigued. He couldn't deny the spark of attraction he felt for the other man, spontaneous as it was, and it seemed to be reciprocated. He didn't even know his name, but something about the man made Iruka want to know more about him. Maybe this was like some trashy romance novel, where the two would-be lovers met under unusual circumstances and fell instantly in-
    “Hey, Kakashi,” a man with short brown hair said, suddenly walking into the room, “I brought the next three volumes of your shitty porn series from the hospital library and a couple pairs of clean underwear, so you can stop fucking texting me the specific style and brand you want from home, you're so damn picky-” He stopped dead as he caught sight of Iruka, pausing for a beat, then glanced at the man in the bed, his eyes darting nervously between the two. “Umm...am I...interrupting something?”
    A cold pit of ice yawned open in Iruka's stomach. 
    Oh my GOD. Here he was, borderline flirting with some stranger in a random hospital room, when obviously the man already had a boyfriend and Iruka was just making a complete ass of himself. The flirting had probably been misinterpretation on his part anyway, and if not, the guy was a total dick. Either way, enough was enough. His face aflame with rage and shame, Iruka spun towards the door. 
    “I need to go.”
    “Hey, wait!” Kakashi or whatever his name was called after him. 
    Iruka was already out the door, ignoring the man's cries. Screw him, and screw Naruto, too. He was the cause of this whole mess. Iruka would just text him later. He was probably making out with Sasuke anyway and wouldn't even notice his brother hadn't popped in to visit. Iruka needed out of this hospital NOW. He turned towards the stairs, immediately got lost, and spent the next five minutes growing increasingly flustered as he stormed through the winding hallways, desperately searching for the exit. Why the fuck was the hospital so damn BIG-
    “Hey! Iruka! Hold up!”
    Iruka spun around to see Kakashi speeding towards him in a wheelchair, his boyfriend dutifully pushing him down the hallway at a dead run, IV dangling after him on its cord like a faithful dog. The wheelchair stopped with an audible squeal in front of him.
    “What- where did- did you steal that?!” Iruka hissed in outrage. 
    “Of course not, don't be silly,” Kakashi protested, sounding offended. “The guy it belongs to was asleep in his bed. I'm just borrowing it. I'll return it later. Anyway, Iruka-”
    “Were you flirting with me in there?” Iruka demanded, cutting him off. “Be honest.”
    “Abso-fucking-lutely,” Kakashi said without an ounce of remorse. “So can I have your number or what?” Iruka bristled. 
    “You're a piece of shit! I can't believe you, hitting on me like this right in front of your boyfriend! You have some nerve-”
    “Wait...boyfriend?” Kakashi cocked his head in confusion. “You mean Yams?”
    “The fuck do YAMS have to do with anything-”
    “Hi, that's me,” the short-haired man said, raising a hand. “Yamato, actually. 'Yams' to my friends. Which is what we are. Just...friends.” Iruka scowled at him suspiciously. 
    “Friends? Don't fuck with me. You brought him underwear-”
    “Really close friends,” Yamato reiterated. “Also, roommates. It's awful. I can't get away from him.” Iruka studied him for a moment, but couldn't spot any hint of deception. The man's almond-shaped eyes were surprisingly honest.
    “So you two...aren't dating?” he asked hesitantly. Yamato gave him a horrified look.
    “Dear God, NO. Kakashi is the WORST. He's lazy as hell, procrastinates til the last minute, is perpetually late to everything-”
    “You are a shit wingman-” Kakashi began. 
    “He needs to know what he's getting into,” Yamato snapped at him, then turned back to Iruka. “Seriously, though. You should run while you still can. There's hope for you.”
    “Don't listen to him,” Kakashi cut in. “I'm a fucking catch. Which is exactly why you should let your flaxen hair down, rip your shirt open to reveal your heaving bosom, and throw yourself into my arms-”
    “Will you cut that out?!” Iruka burst out impatiently. “Life is not a trashy romance novel.”
    “You sure about that?” Kakashi said, quirking an eyebrow. “Because I met you in a hospital through total coincidence. After really hitting it off, we had a misunderstanding brought on by miscommunication. Then I chased after you in a fucking wheelchair to declare my undying attraction to you. If that isn't a plot to a trashy romance novel, I don't know what the fuck is. At least it's not raining right now.”
    “I dunno, it might be drizzling,” Yamato said, glancing at a window.
    Iruka paused, considering.
    “I guess it...would make a pretty good book,” he admitted quietly. “The only thing is...I'm not sure what happens next.”
    “That part's for us to write,” Kakashi said, his tone eager. “Only we can complete the story.”
    “Aaaaand I'm going to puke,” Yamato stated. 
    “Sorry, we crossed the line from 'trashy' into 'sappy'.” Kakashi shook his head. “Anyway. Iruka. Please, I'm begging you. Let me sweep you off your feet. Just...give me a chance.”
    “I'll do you one better,” Iruka said after a pause. “I'll give you my number.” Stealing a marker from the nearby nurse's station, he bent and wrote his cell number on Kakashi's cast, then straightened and held out the bouquet. “Here, you can have these. The message works for you too, I guess.”
    Kakashi accepted the flowers with a laugh, taking an appreciative sniff. 
    “And now, I shall ride dramatically off into the sunset,” he said with complete seriousness. “Come, my valiant steed. Awaaaay!”
    “I will push you down the stairs,” Yamato grumbled as he spun the wheelchair around and started back down the hallway. Iruka watched them go with a fond smile on his face, giddy with anticipation. 
    He was eager to read the next few chapters in his life.
    Including the steamy bits. 
(Written for @kakairu-fest KakaIru Month 2021, Day Twelve Prompt: Hospitals)
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nevertheless-moving · 4 years ago
Text
Suicidal Misunderstanding IX
Star Wars Time Travel AU #27
Part I - - - - - Part II - - - - - Part III - - - - - Part IV  - - - Part V - - - - - Part VI - - - - - Part VII - - - - - Part VIII
Content Warning: This chapter contains potentially triggering material, particularly aftermath of attempted suicide as well as discussions of bodily injury.
Cody woke up the morning after the...drunken keldabe still feeling uneasy. He spent half an hour attempting to read over reports in preparation for the Umbaran campaign before giving it up as a lost cause. He distracted himself for a little while by pouring over last night’s cantina surveillance, before giving up on that as well and sending a message to General Skywalker.
‘Any updates on General Kenobi’s status?’
He watched the comms as communications from everyone besides the General trickled in. He answered a few requests for requisitions, forwarded some medical reports, and ignored an irritating handful of overly-personal questions. 
Agonizing over it the whole time, he opened a comm-text link to Obi-Wan. It took nearly an hour, but he managed to send two sentences. ‘Hope you’re recovering well. Look forward to upcoming mission discussion.’
He immediately wanted to retroactively delete the message, mortified by every word and deeply concerned at every second that passed without a reply.
He spent the next 30 minutes hunched over, quickly closing every incoming CT and CC communication, justifying the time to himself as ‘technically on leave.’
He lurched forward when he finally received a General’s comm code, but slumped in disappointment when it was Skywalker, not Kenobi.
‘Not as drunk but still seems a little high. He says he wasn’t drugged. He’s taking the rest of the day off. I’m monitoring.’
Taking the rest of the day off. Did that mean he wasn’t carrying around his comm? Kriff. Should he more or less concerned that the general was actually taking a day off?
He decided to be more concerned.
‘Thank you for the update. Respectfully request information on any changes.’
Hopefully that would encourage Skywalker to keep him informed even if he stopped freaking out over his vod’s behavior.
Stowing the remote comm, he stood up and exited the temporary planet-side office, throwing himself into cleaning up the mess that was nearly 20,000 clone troopers simultaneously attempting to get the most out of a very brief R&R. 
Shortly before mid-day, he received another update from Skywalker.
‘Just managed to get him to medical. Healer cleared him of drug interactions but Obi-Wan’s still acting strange (not crying, but a lot of hugging).’
Cody stared at that for a long while.
‘Any other verbal indications of upcoming danger?’ he finally asked. Skywalker didn’t reply. 
Shortly after nightfall, his incident reports were interrupted by a call from an unknown temple number. He quickly opened it, and a holo of an unfamiliar Mon Calamari female healer appeared in miniature on the desk.
“Commander Cody. Thank you for answering so quickly. Are you somewhere private?” she asked, voice deliberately neutral.
The Commander tensed up. “Yes, sir. I’m in CC office space, alone. The room and the channel are both secure. Is this regarding General Kenobi?”
“Yes.” She replied. “My name is Master Bant Eerin; I’m a temple healer as well as a personal friend of Obi-Wan’s. He’s...he’s in the healing halls right now. We’re still trying to understand exactly what happened- I’ll tell you what I can but first we need to rule out any possible drugs he may have contact with. I need you to describe in detail anything he may have been exposed to that could have possibly had mind-altering effects.”
The Commander was a professional. He swallowed back his fear, his questions, and his demands to know what was going on.
“Of course. Everything on the Negotiator was GAR Standard, and I was with him when we left the ship. We went directly to the lower levels. The first time he was exposed to anyone outside the 212th was when we left our transport on level 3915. I...actually have footage of him the whole time night after that point. I’m sending it over right now, sir.”
“That would be extremely helpful, thank you.” He watched as she pulled it up on a second comm, sound barely audible. 
He continued with his report: “One of the boys took it without permission. He didn’t mean anything by it, he’s just an idiot; I’ve already issued a severe reprimand. In any case, he brought it to me after I issued surveillance on the cantina, it tracks everything the General did- as far as I can tell, he had a glass of house grub wine, two shots of rancor blood, and an unnamed mixed cocktail ‘on the house.’ You can see everything the bartender added- as far as I can tell nothing was slipped in. He just... blacked out suddenly after the fourth drink, and quickly startled awake, confused by his surroundings.”
“I see.” Her tone was still carefully neutral and Cody didn’t know how to read her expression. He waited, wishing he was wearing his bucket so he didn’t have to keep schooling his face into professional patience.
“You brought him back to the temple...correct?” 
“Yes, sir.”
She let out a deep breath, gills fluttering slightly. “We’ll probably have more questions later, but please understand our inquires are entirely based around determining how we can best help Obi-Wan. This call and any future ones are not intended, and should absolutely not be interpreted, as indications of blame. He’s actually spoken to me about you before, I know he has the deepest respect for you, personally and professionally. Someone will likely be assigned to talk to everyone whose spent time with him recently, including myself.”
The sick feeling in his gut from last night returned full force. “I...believe I understand sir. His condition is serious, then?”
Her gills fluttered again.
“Even now, I think we can safely anticipate a full physical recovery. He...there’s no easy way to say this...it appears he attempted to end his own life. Knight Skywalker got to him just in time, and he received bacta within minutes of the initial burn. I...like I said...we’ll began work to figure out why-”
Her voice broke and she stared up, large tears pooling in the corners of her eyes. She hastily wiped them away.
“Rest assured commander, he’s getting the best treatment possible. Thank you for your assistance. I’ll do my best to answer any questions you might have right now. This is my personal comm link- please feel free to reach out to me at any point for updates.”
“I-” Cody cleared his throat. “Can I come to the temple? To...” he trailed off, not sure how to finish.
“Not tonight, I’m sorry. The healers need to focus; he’s not allowed any visitors until he’s out of Bacta, I’m afraid.”
“Skywalker must be throwing a fit at that” Cody remarked numbly.
The healer winced. “Knight Skywalker is currently sedated. He was...injured in the struggle to keep Obi-Wan from further harm. Master Windu witnessed part of it, but we’ll have to wait until its safe to wake him to get the full story. I’ll be notifying Captain Rex of the situation after we finish speaking.”
“I’ll do it.” Cody offered immediately. “Tell me what happened.”
Eerin hesitated. 
“Please, Sir. It will be better coming from me and...if he’s the only other trooper who’s being informed at the moment...”
“Of course,” she said quietly. “We don’t know the full circumstances, but at some point in performing emergency care for Master Kenobi, Knight Skywalker was stabbed in the lower abdomen with a vibroblade. It pierced his large intestine. The blade was pulled out shortly before healers arrived, causing some further damage and blood loss. He’s already finished surgery, and should only need a few hours of Bacta at most. Considering his extraordinary past recovery rates, he’ll likely be out of bed tomorrow and fully healed by the end of the week.”
“General Kenobi wouldn’t...” Cody trailed off again. He was having a hard time putting coherent sentences together.
Bant looked at the ceiling for a moment, seeming to collect her thoughts.
“Psychosis can have many manifestations. Even with- with conventional injuries, people can mistake help for harm. There’s just too much we don’t understand, and only so much we can learn before they wake up. Are you certain you wish to be the one to inform Captain Rex?”
“Yes.” That was about the only thing the Commander was certain of right now. “Is there anyone else in the GAR I should inform of...anything?”
“The military aspect of this isn’t my area of expertise. If there’s someone you trust who can be a support for you, I don’t see why you shouldn’t be able to tell them in confidence. Some form of what happened is going to get out eventually.” she replied. “Please use your discretion, I suppose. It’s...not really my speciality but I imagine you’ll receive further orders on how much to release to the GAR once Obi-Wan’s stable.”
Right. Discretion. Because Obi-Wan wasn’t just Obi-Wan- he was a high general in charge of nearly 1/3 of the republic’s forces. If word of this got out to the wrong ears it would cause mass panic, maybe even an emboldened separatist advance. It was an insane amount of responsibility for one person, no wonder - he deliberately didn’t finish the thought.
“I’ll comm the Captain immediately. Thank you for the information, General.” he said out loud.
“Feel free to contact me for further updates, and tell Captain Rex he’s welcome to do the same. I’ll message you when its clear to visit the halls.”
“Yes, Sir.” Cody responded, saluting automatically. 
“Take care of yourself, Commander Cody”
The hologram blinked out. Cody sat motionless for several long moment before sweeping his desk off, sending the assorted flimsies and redundant comm-units of various designations to the ground.
He stared at the empty desk, then tapped a button on his wrist comm, opening a private audio channel. “CT-7567, please come in” he said calmly.
“Cody?” came the alarmed reply. “I’m here, what’s going on?” Why did he sound so panicked? He had deliberately used his calmest voice. Oh well.
“Please report immediately to CC Office 12 in Guard Headquarters”
“I’ll be there in 10″
Cody hung up. He stared at the blank wall. He knew something was wrong with how the General said goodbye.
He opened the single desk drawer and dumped the odd wires and coins inside to the floor. Eerin had said burn. That could mean a lot of things, but lightsaber was the most likely. 
Cody puked profusely into the empty drawer. He stared at the vomit for a moment before carefully closing the drawer. He still felt a little sick. He hadn’t even said anything back to the General, he just stood there, frozen. 
He stared vaguely at the wall across, wondering if he was going to puke again.
Rex burst into the room. “Cody! What’s going on?! You- kark, what is that smell?”
“I puked in the desk drawer” Cody explained.
Rex shut the door behind him and slowly walked over. He knelt down next to the desk, gently taking Cody’s hands in this own. “Cody. Vod. Talk to to me.” 
“Obi-Wan tried to kill himself.”
Rex’s hands tightened over Cody’s compulsively and Cody squeezed back harder. He closed his eyes so he wouldn’t have to look at Rex’s expression.
“Some of ghost company went out for drinks last night. Obi-Wan started acted oddly. We flew towards the temple. He started crying. We got to the temple. He Keldabe kissed me. He told me goodbye. I didn’t say anything back.”
“Oh, vod” Rex whispered. He gently pulled the slack Cody off the chair and onto his lap on the floor. Cody continued mechanically. “I did reports today. Skywalker said he was with him. I left Obi-Wan a message. I don’t think he saw it. He tried to kill himself. Skywalker must have left him alone. He saved him. Obi-Wan stabbed Skywalker.”
Rex froze, still holding on to Cody. 
“The healer called. Asked about drugs. They don’t think its drugs but they had to ask. She said they’re both going to heal completely fine. I have a link if you want to call the healer directly. That’s...it. I have reports to do now.”
Rex held Cody tighter. “Not right now”
“It’s war. People get hurt. People die. I have work to do”
“Not right now,” Rex repeated. “You have the right to be upset. You have the right to grieve. You’re a person, of course you have feelings.”
“Obi-Wan said that.” Cody whispered. Then he started crying. He continued to quietly sob for some time, hurt and bewildered and scared. They sat on the floor together; Rex barely moved, simply held on to his older brother as he fell apart.
Inevitably, Cody’s tears dried up and he pulled away. 
“I don’t know how to clean this,” he said gesturing at that closed drawer. 
“I’ll take care of it. Let’s just get you to bed. There’s CC bunks here, right? 
“Yes but...”
Cody didn’t really like sleeping so isolated, but he also couldn’t imagine facing the 212th right now. 
“I’ll stay here with you. We’ll go to the temple together in the morning.”
Rex shepherded Cody to the fresher. He stared at the mirror with a vague sense of recognition before automatically moving through a standard sanitation routine. By the time he finished, Rex had joined him in his room.
“What did you do with the vomit?” Cody asked, suddenly exhausted. They slipped into bed together.
“Swapped the whole desk with Pond’s. That bastard knows what he did.”
Cody let out a snort. Then, much to his surprise, he sank heavily into a deep, dreamless sleep.
Part X
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tomtenadia · 3 years ago
Text
Remember Us - 7
I know we are in full Rowaelin month but I thought to give you part 7 as a present...
There is a small library scene in perfect theme with Day 4. (This is not part of Rowaelin month. Just a coincidence)
The chapters are getting less angsty. As I mentioned in a post a few days ago... i Finished the story and it has 10 parts. That was the original plan and I promise a HEA
-------
Rowan had spent the entire day going through all of their albums. Evalin had offered to look after Freyja, but instead he had kept the girl in his arms while sitting on the carpet and and album in front of him.
He had just finished the one about Thomas and now opened the one dedicated to his daughter. They were both still a working in progress as it looked like Aelin would just record the stages in their lives.
“Look, who is this one?” The little girl pointed at the picture and babbled something.
“This is you.” He told her in a loving tone “the most precious thing in our lives with your brother.”
“You did it, Fireheart.” Rowan kissed the head of an exhausted Aelin, while the doctors were busy cleaning and checking on their daughter.
The nurse walked to them with a bundle in her arms and gave it to Aelin “I think your daughter is ready to meet you.” And placed the baby on Aelin’s chest.
Rowan sat at her side, his arms around her shoulder as he drew closer his two women.
“She is like you, Ro.”
He kissed her forehead “I love you both. Madly.”
In another photo he saw Thomas in the hospital bed near her mother, kissing his sister head and the caption read Thomas is officially a big brother and he finally gets to meet his sister. 
“ ‘Mas” babbled Freyja, pointing at the photo.
“Yes, that is your brother.”
Page by page he followed his daughter life and as it happened for Thomas, some moments became familiar all of a sudden.
Looking at photos had been a great idea but with Aelin’s captions had been even better as it was as if someone was actually telling him the story.
He looked at a couple of more albums but then he felt an headache coming and his vision was getting tired as well, so he grabbed Freyja and went to lie down on the sofa, making sure that she was tucked in safely between him and the back of the sofa. Evalin was busy doing chores around the house. He pulled the little girl to his chest and he started humming a tune while his hand caressed her head.
Not long after they were both asleep.
Evalin appeared back in the living room not long after and when she saw the scene in front of her she almost cried. Then she took her phone and snapped a picture and sent it to Aelin Your husband and your daughter are having some quality time together.
*
“How’s the study session going?” A younger Rowan paused beside a table in a university library.
The blonde woman in front of him groaned in exasperation “med school. Of all the degrees I choose from, I went for the worst one.” Her head collapsed heavily on the books in front of her “I want to be a neurosurgeon, I don’t care about the kidneys. Why am I studying this crap?”
Rowan smiled and placed a cup of coffee on the table “you need caffeine.”
Aelin lifted her head “yes, in IV.” She extended her arm and Rowan chuckled “you are the doctor, you will have to perform that on yourself.” He laughed and patted her head “I can tell you the legal repercussions of me performing such a procedure without a licence.”
Aelin grabbed her coffee and drank avidly “smartass.”
“A smartass you love?”
“Keep dreaming, Whitethorn.”
When he woke up again he was not ready for the splitting headache. He tried to sit up but dizziness hit him hard and then a wave of nausea. He jumped off the sofa but crashed on the carpet. Rowan fought to stand up but his body refused to obey “Evalin,” he croaked, grabbing his head in his hands.
A moment later Evalin was at his side “Rowan, are you okay?”
He crashed back down on the carpet and groaned. Evalin slowly helped him to sit back up and she felt panic rise “I should call Aelin.”
“No,” said Rowan in a whisper as he stood shakily and sat at the opposite side of the sofa away from his sleeping daughter. He should not be around the kids. No one should be around him while he was in that state.
And in that instant nausea hit again and he grabbed his stick and slowly dragged himself to the bathroom, collapsed on the floor and emptied the content of his stomach in the toilet.
***
Aelin had just finished surgery when she noticed the worried text from her mother. Rowan was not well.
She changed from the scrubs, paged her second, told him she had a family emergency and that she had to go back home. They all knew her situation and he was understanding. She had finished her surgeries for the day so finishing early was not much of an issue.
She drove home with her heart racing with panic. She knew the complications after a brain injury and she was worried. Her mother had not specified what happened but her tone seemed frantic.
Once in front of the house she parked quickly and once in the house she found it quiet. Her mother was sitting on the sofa reading to Freyja and Thomas was on the carpet playing with his toy cars.
“Where is he?”
Evalin looked up at her “in bed. He was sick, complaining of strong headaches and he said he was tired.”
Aelin dropped her backpack and ran for the bedroom and found him asleep.
She walked to him and sat at his side at the edge on the bed and slowly caressed his head. Her strong, amazing husband looked fragile, tucked in bed and sleeping on his side. The time in the hospital had left his mark and his frame was now thinner. Her hand ran through his hair once again and then deposited a gentle kiss and in that instant his eyes popped open as she chastised herself for it.
“Hi you,”
“Hi,” his voice gruff “you are home.”
“Mum texted me that you were not well.”
He tried to sit up but Aelin kept him down “you need to rest. What are your symptoms?”
Rowan’s head collapsed back on the pillow “headache, dizziness and nausea.”
Aelin’s hand was in his hair again “it’s normal. From one to ten, how bad is the headache?”
“Seven.”
She stood and came back a moment later with a glass of water and a tablet “Just a light dose to help you a bit.”
Rowan took the water and the medicine and once he was done Aelin lay down at his side, snuggling  close to him, her hand on his chest. Rowan’s arms as if on instinct went around her frame but did not hug her tight. He had no energy.
“I dreamt…” he closed his eyes for a second “I dreamt of us in the library. You were complaining about your degree and kidneys,” he told her softly “I brought you coffee.”
Aelin chuckled against his chest. She did remember exactly the day “that was when I started to fall for you.”
“Tell me,” he said, his lips brushing her hair.
“Somehow you had memorised my schedule,” she began her tale “so you would pop up in the library and keep me company studying. You with your laws and me with my crazy med stuff.” She looked up at him and found her husband staring at her “during my anatomy exam you offered to be my skeleton and I revised on you.” She flicked his nose and the gentle flinch of his nose reminded her so much of him, his usual reaction “At the end of a crazy exam you brought me cake and once my session of exams was over you asked me out.”
Rowan gave her a weak smile and she could see the tiredness in his face “you asked me to move in with you on my birthday and my present were the keys to your flat. I moved out of mine the next day and Aedion moved in with Lysandra and took my place.”
“Are we good friends with them?” He asked with interest. So far they had never discussed their friends and he thought it was time to try.
Aelin nodded “Aedion is my cousin. Lys and I were flatmates and she is my best friend.” Her hand brushed his hair once again, the gesture was relaxing and Rowan seemed to enjoy it too, his features much more relaxed “then we have Lorcan and Elide and the six of us kinda form a nice tight group.”
“Do they know about my condition?”
Aelin nodded “I explained to them and the only reason they haven’t visited is because I knew it was going to be too much so I told them to wait.”
“Thank you,” he said softly while his hand brushed her back “I can’t just yet.”
Aelin nodded again and his expression morphed as if he wanted to ask her something but hesitate. His hand moved “can I?” And Aelin knew what he meant. She took his hand and pushed it under her t-shirt and on her tiny baby bump “I don’t know yet if it’s a girl or a boy. I have a check up in two weeks and will see if we can find out the sex.”
His thumb moved gently as if to greet their child with his free hand he pinched the bridge of his nose.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” he said a bit too quietly.
“I should let you rest,” Aelin tried to move but his hand grabbed her writs and pulled her back down against him. He had been enjoying that moment they had shared. His arms went around her frame and pulled her to him. 
“You love to cuddle.”
“Do I?” He told her rising an eyebrow.
“Sometimes when mum takes the kids we do enjoy a lot of naked, adult cuddling.”
Rowan’s heart raced in terror “I am not…” he stopped “I can’t yet.”
“Shh…” said Aelin, placing a gentle finger on his lips “We are not doing anything you do not want to do.” She told him with love.
He pulled her even closer and tucked her head under his chin, and the position felt familiar all of a sudden, her scent enveloping his nostrils. Everything about her felt familiar, the shape of her body against his, her scent, they way she fit perfectly in his arms.
They were in silence for a moment until two small cyclones joined them.
“Dad.” Shouted Thomas quite loudly and Rowan groaned, his head not appreciating the decibels coming from his son.
“Quiet, Tom, dad is not well.”
The little boy zipped his lips and climbed in bed. Freyja padded to her father’s side and extended her arms in a gesture to be picked up. Rowan turned and lifted his daughter in his arms and pushed her under the blankets with Thomas and Aelin joined them a moment later.
“We are keeping company to dad but we need to be quiet. Can we do that?”
Thomas nodded eagerly and Freyja kept sucking on her pacifier. The little girl climbed on her father chest and Rowan rolled on his back to help her curl up properly. Thomas was tucked in at his side and Aelin’s arm reached over and enveloped them.
“Sorry, they really missed you.”
Rowan shook his head “this feels really nice and normal.”
Aelin smiled and brushed Thomas’ hair “believe me on a weekend it is, and if I am not working the four of us love a long morning in bed together.”
He chuckled and loved the image “What about the names?”
Aelin grabbed Freyja’s hand in her and kissed it “Thomas was a character in a sci-fi series that we both love. He is an Admiral and quite amazing. He is actually my fictional husband. Freyja, we took it from a mythology book.”
Rowan laughed “so I have competition.”
“Can you be an admiral?”
“I order you to kiss me, soldier.” Rowan felt a smile tug at his lips and Aelin stared at him with fondness. Then leaned forward and pressed a kiss on his lips.
“Bleah,” said Thomas in protest. Aelin stamped a big kiss on his cheek “feeling better now?” And the boy grinned and climbed down from the bed “lego.” And he ran away.
Aelin sighed “he has a lot of energy.” And now that her son space had been vacated she scooted closer to Rowan and her hand was on the girl’s back on top of Rowan’s.
“I love the kids. It’s been only a few days but I love them madly already.” He whispered looking down at his sleeping daughter. Then back at Aelin and for a brief moment he saw sadness in her eyes. Loving the kids had been easy. His feelings for her were far more complicated. He felt something but could not put a name on it yet.
“With you is…” he paused, searching for the right words. He had caused enough pain already “complicated. There is something, I can feel it, but I don’t know if it’s just the memories or my actual feelings.” His hand ran through his hair “I don’t know how to explain it clearly.”
Aelin kissed his forehead tenderly. For as much as she wanted her husband back, she was not going to rush him. He would need time and she was willing to wait. She had waited at his bedside for so long to have him awake again that she was happy to take even the small acts of affection he was willing to give her.
“I want you to have your husband back, and I am trying…”
“Shhh…” she said to him, a gentle kiss on his lips “I have him back, and I can see more of him coming back everyday. You don’t realise it but he is there.” She patted his chest “My husband is right here in my arms.”
Rowan’s hand grabbed the back of her head and pulled her to him for a fierce kiss. Aelin melted at the contact. The kiss felt like coming home and for a moment it swept away all her fears.
“Does your husband kiss you like that?” The smirk on his face and his playful tone was him and she pulled back, coming up for air. 
“Seems like you remember this part very well.”
“It does help that my wife is stunning.”
Aelin smiled. He had called her his wife. Had he accepted his life? Had he accepted them?
She looked at him in his pine green eyes looking for an answer.
“Yes.”
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tree0frog · 3 years ago
Text
food
masterlist
TW!! eating disorder talking about body weight  and sick
[please note that not all eating disorders are the same and are different for everyone I'm here if anyone need to talk or just to rant so I'm going off of some of my own accord but I'm better now stay safe]
you were the oldest of five kids being the only world Airbender family was a big thing you had gotten your tattoos at the age of 12 you were now 15.you had been feeling self concise and had stopped eating Ikki know about this but wasn't sure on what to do about it you had begged her to keep quiet.
your family were sat eating dinner "you're not eating are you ok "your mum asked"hmm oh ya I just fell ill excuse me "y/n stood up waling to their room  Ikki shifted in her seat going back to her food. "y/n "Tenzin had come by your room with a bowl of food only to find you sleeping 'they look pale thought to himself putting to blow down on your bedside table and attempting to wake you up "y/n you need to wake up now I brought you some food eat "Tenzin sighed as he watches you slowly sit up "thanks"y/n muttered before slowly eating to the food they were given, "do you need something dad" oh no just making sure you are eating "he told them 'shit does he knows 'they thought as they finished their food hanging the bowl back tot Tenzin falling back asleep.
y/n had woken up around midnight making their way to the bathroom make sure the door was locked, as they put they began to, bring up what they had eaten hoping they went being too loud cleaning up themself as well as the bathroom masking the small with some perfume quietly making there way back to their room.
once again y/n was eating dinner with their family when a wave of nausea hit they ruing out of the room and heading for the bathroom "i-"iv got it "Ikki ran after y/n making sure they were ok oping the door y/n's back pressed against the wall "I'm sorry "for what"for bring you into my mess of life"come on let's go back "the two made there way back to the dining room were lin was now talking to Tenzin as well as kaya and Bumi"ok you ok "y/n nodded going back to eating ignoring the worried looks on everyone faces.
y/n had skipped breakfasts and lunch the next day as they were trying to get a new move down "dad can you help me with this I cant seem to get it"Tenzin walked over "show me what you're doing "they nodded before starting to bend 'they look pale still and thinner 'Tenzin thought "soo" well I know what you are doing "y/n and Tenzin had spent the next hour drilling the new move onto your head, "let's go in for food now y/n? y/n are you" y/ns hearing when fuzzy.
you pov
I looked at my dad who was he talking to I count hear him my vision going bank before into nothing.
on one pov
Tenzin ran over to catch y/n as they started to sway before collapsing he started screening for help as Ikki jinora Melo Pamela lin kaya  Bumi and the crew ran out to see y/n in Tenzin's arms fittingly still" what happened why-"y/n had been staring them selfs them making the self sick"Ikki shouted out and kaya began to bend water around they kid "for how long "I'm not sure iv only know about it for a week they seemed to be getting better but I don't know how long this had been going on I I'm sorry "Ikki broke down into tears.
they had moved y/n to their room as they started taking "what happened how did I not notice"tears were rolling down Tenzin's face it shocked everyone it was rare to see him cry. hours passed and you still weren't awake yet everyone had left except for Tenzin who was still sitting on the end of y/n bed he was about to leave when he heard the bed creek "w what happened "oh heavens your wake"Tenzin turned to embrace y/n them into a hug.
"Why did you not tell us "dad what are you talking about "I know you were not eating right"y/n froze Tenzin expand what had happened "please promise me to eat even if its a little ok "they nodded good now' I'll go get you some food I know it's hard now but ill do everything thing to make sure your bake and healthy again no matter how long that takes I love you "
"I love you too dad"
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darkisrising · 4 years ago
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Five Times, by DarkIsRising,pt5
Previous parts here on ao3
Five Times Din and Luke Met (and one time they never parted)
5.
Somehow it’s Boba Fett of all beings that gets Luke in touch with Grogu’s dad again.
Fett doesn’t want to help him, of course. Not after all the bad blood that’s been spilled between them, especially with the sarlacc pit thing from a few years back, and there’s a lot of the holocomm where the blue flicker of Fett’s image is silent with his arms crossed while Luke has to practically crawl on his belly to get him to take the call, let alone listen to Luke, let alone relent enough to give Luke a name.
Just a name.
“Come on, Fett, that’s all I’m asking for.”
“Wow, Skywalker. You really fucked up this time, didn’t you?”
And Luke has to agree that yes, he did indeed fuck up though in his defense he was riding high on the Force at the time, but that’s not something that’s likely to sway Fett one way of the other so he goes the meek route, saying quietly: “I really did. Will you help me?”
Fett’s helmet tilts to the side, like maybe he’s finally considering it, and Luke is a deft enough swordsman these days to press an advantage when he sees one.
“Not even for my sake. For his son’s.”
Fett’s sigh is loud enough to be picked up on his voice modulator on Tatooine, travel through the shared holocomm connection—in one end of the outer rim and out the other—to finally make itself heard in the communications room on Yavin IV’s moon.
“Din Djarin,” comes the terse reply before the connection is abruptly cut off from Fett’s end.
Which isn’t much to go on, considering all he knows is his name and that he’s a Mandalorian, but it is a start.
As it turns out, it’s more than enough because not only is Din Djarin a Mandalorian, he’s the Mandalorian.
“I didn’t realize you came from royalty,” Luke says to Grogu not a little bit stunned as they wait for someone to find the Mand'alor and patch their comm through.
After that it’s a lot of back and forth to strategize a time when he’s able to fly over between all the things he’s gotta do as a king trying to reunify his home sector.
The ship that finally settles down in front of the temple is more of a junker than Luke would expect from a king. The paint is peeling, some of the stabilizer flaps are slow to retract, and there’s a groan when the ramp extends that makes the spacerhead in Luke itch to grab some oil and go to town on those hinges.
Instead Luke stays where he is and when he spots the shine of pure, silver beskar coming down the ramp he falls into a bow which he’s only mastered thanks to extensive holocomming with Leia as she berated him over his pisspoor form while he yelled back that he grew up a farmer for druk’s sake when was he supposed to learn this sithspit king-greeting nonsense?
“You don’t have to do that,” comes a soft voice and Luke looks up in time to see that Grogu has raced ahead with his arms raised to be picked up. In a clean motion that speaks of a body honed for movement he sweeps down and takes Grogu in his arms. “Hey, kid. You have no idea how much I’ve missed you.”
Luke intends to make himself scarce for this reunion which has been a long time coming, but is stopped when the Mand’alor starts asking Luke questions about Grogu’s training, about how he spends his days, what he’s been eating, how he’s been sleeping, if he’s been behaving…
“He’s been a joy to have here, Lord Djarin,” Luke says and it earns him a long, silent look.
“I think you can call me Din, all things considered,” he says before setting Grogu down so that he can dig into his belt’s pouch. “Anyway, I brought presents.”
Grogu’s face turns incandescent when he sees the silver ball that Din plucks from his hip. The sound he makes is nothing short of pure elation and Luke has to laugh alongside the gentle chuckle that comes through Din’s helmet.
“Ah, yes. The famous silver ball,” Luke grins. “I hear Grogu thinking about it all the time, I’m happy he’s finally reunited with it.”
Grogu insists on dragging Din around to show his father his favorite places around the Temple’s grounds, and his enthusiasm is catching. Luke trails along, offering commentary that this is the boulder Grogu had managed to lift through the Force two weeks ago, there was the meadow where he’d been able to deflect his first training droid bolt with Luke’s lightsaber, here is the lake where they’ve been watching the tadpoles gradually grow legs. Settling on a log to watch as Grogu chases a pair frogs along the lake’s muddy shoreline, Luke can feel the weight of Din’s thoughts even if he can’t see their exact shape.
“And you don’t worry about that?” Din asks, voice so withdrawn it could almost be mistaken for shy. “All these attachments he’s got going on? The ball and, well, me? You don’t think it’ll get in the way of his training?”
Luke can only shrug.
“I guess it could, but seeing as I talk to my sister and my brother-in-law nearly every other day it would be awfully hypocritical of me to stop Grogu from forming attachments, himself.”
Din is silent at that, considering, as Luke continues on: “I’ve read some of what the Jedi used to believe, and honestly I have no idea if they had the right idea or not. Their way led to the fall of one of their own who in turn brought down the entire Order. Would things have been different if he’d been allowed to love more freely?” He breaks off to watch Grogu, now bored with the frogs, float the silver ball through the air in a lazy curling pattern.
The last afternoon sun catches at the smooth surface and turns the ball gold along the edges.
“I’d like to think it would. So I’m not planning on holding myself away from that sort of love on the off chance that it might actually be the thing that maintains balance in the Force, and I could hardly hold my student to a different standard. That wouldn’t be fair.”
“I see,” Din says and the simple words lay between them in a complicated tangle. “Well, if that's the way of it, then, here: I brought you something, too,” he says at last and reaches back to his belt.
Years of politeness pressed into him by Aunt Beru at the moisture farm have Luke saying “You didn't have to do that” before Din has so much as taken his hand out of his belt’s pouch, which is just as well since the moment he gets a look at what’s in Din’s hand his heart stutters to a halt in his chest so that it can jump into his throat.
“No,” Luke says, eyes wide, while a cold, dawning understanding creeps across his skin and he can only stare at the bounty puck that glints silver in Din’s gloved palm.
“Oh, no,” Luke whispers sickly “What—”
No, no, no. Oh, sweet Force no.
His voice, Luke realizes. He should have known him from his voice. Even if the beskar is different, his voice is still very much the same.
“I can bring you in warm...” Din is saying and Luke can’t hear the rest because he’s blushing so hard now that the blood is landing in his ears, making a high-pitched, tinny whine that drowns out the words he knows by heart because he’s spent the better part of the last few years thinking about them with his hand on his cock.
“You really didn't recognize me?” Din asks when Luke’s hands come up to cover his face, for all the good it does to hide him from the Mandalorian.
The Mandalorian.
Mando.
Din.
Luke laughs helplessly. Horrified. “I wasn't myself on the cruiser,” he whispers at last.
“Yeah no kidding. I didn't realize who you were until you'd left.” Din has clearly had longer to sit with this revelation because he sounds amused, fond even, while Luke is still reeling. “I don’t think I've ever seen you that serious, not even when you were in carbonite.”
“I wasn’t myself,” is all Luke can say again. Din takes pity on him and lets Luke breathe through the worst of it without saying a word, his helmet turned toward Grogu while Luke sorts through the shattered mess this has broken him into.
“You've changed,” Luke says when he starts to feel whole enough to think in such things as words and sentences.
“I’m still tired,” Din says with a huffing laugh.
“Maybe.” Luke feels braver now. He raises his face to look at Din and in the beskar reflection of Din’s helmet Luke can see his cheeks are now only slightly pink. “But not nearly so lonely.”
“Ah. Yeah.” Din concedes with a nod. “I was different, back then. Grogu changed me, I think”
“Yeah,” Luke nods along with him. “Yeah, I think he did.”
Sensing that they are watching him, Grogu toddles back to Din and lifts his arms to be picked up. This time when he gets close enough, Grogu’s hands come to the sides of Din’s helmet. It isn’t a demand, more of a wide-eyed question, and Din doesn’t need the Force to sense what is being asked of him.
Luke hadn’t known, before, that Grogu had never seen Din’s face until that moment on Gideon’s cruiser. He hadn’t known how much that act of quite literally laying himself bare for Grogu had cost Din. Luke knows it now, from all the times he’s seen the flashes of Din go by in Grogu’s memories and he realizes it now, with a rekindling of his blush, from the memory that Din hadn’t removed his helmet in that hour they two had spent in a water-stained room on Tatooine.
“Let me leave the two of you alone,” Luke offers, clambering to his feet, gaze averted.
“It’s okay,” Din says. “You've seen it already.”
“Oh. I mean,” he stammers, staring at the green foliage, the insects that are curling through the dappled oranges of sunset, the ripples of water that skim the surface of the lake... really at anything but Din. “Yeah, I have, but--”
“Unless you'd rather I keep it on.” Din’s voice is different now. Softer, for having taken his helmet off, and the sound of it does something to Luke. It makes him shiver, this transformation from hard-shelled warrior to someone far more human. “Some people have a thing for it and I know how much you liked it on before.”
His eyes are nearly black in the fading day’s light when Luke snaps his face around to meet them. They harbor a glint that Luke stares at suspiciously. “You're teasing me aren't you?”
Somewhere among the rugged stubble on his cheeks and the dark lines of his mustache a smile quirks at the corner of Din’s mouth. “Yeah. I am.”
Luke’s heart beats triple time as he stares at Din’s mouth before letting his gaze skim along the vulnerable curves of Din’s face. Luke’s fingers yearn to stretch the space between them until he can trace the kindness of Din’s expression. He wants so badly to run his fingertips through the fall of Din’s hair where it sticks to the sweaty skin of his forehead.
“Because if you would want to do—you know—that again.” Luke is very aware that there is a child present that is taking in what they are saying with big, green ears and huge, shining eyes. “With or without the helmet. If you’d like to do that again. I would be...you know, I'd like that.”
“Yeah,” Din smiles, and this time it is a true smile, one that stretches across his face, casting a glow that Luke can’t help but reflect back with a hopeful, happy, probably somewhat idiotic grin of his own. “I'd like that too.”
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sad-baddie001 · 4 years ago
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Allmight: Symbol of peace
Yn POV
^quirk: Agility, Super human agility and senses.
   *beep* beep* beep*
   I rolled out of bed and stood up stretching as much as possible before dropping to the floor in a sitting position. I spent  a while meditating before I got up to make my coffee. I turned the radio and coffee maker on as I began to go about getting ready for my day.
   I teach pre-K students and they are the little joys of my life. My entire life revolves around teaching them, they mean everything to me. I've been teaching pre-K for almost 6 years now and it's truly what makes me happy. I packed up everything I needed for class today and scanned myself over. I wore my black leggings with my knitted brown sweater and low tops. I grabbed my bags and headed toward the door. I locked up and made my way to work.
   The crisp fall air hit my face as I opened the door to leave out. "Woah—nope." I closed the door and ran back inside to grab my coat. I put it on along with my scarf before actually starting my journey. I began my walk as I listed to the crunchy fall leaves as I stepped on them. The Autumn season always made me happy even as a child. There has always been something about she cool crisp atmosphere that caught my interest.
   As I reached the school I walked into class and began to set up for my class. I cleaned the desk and plugged in my water heater. The classroom was already toasty as I began to place the kids mugs on their desk. I took out my laptop and began to play music at a low volume. I checked my watch as I began to make my specialty hot chocolate for my class. I finished just in time as my children began to filter into the classroom.
   "Good morning Ms. YN!" I turned my head to the door to see the smiling beautiful faces of my class begin to rush in. A huge smile spread across my face as they lined up one by one in front of me. "Good morning my lovely students!" I hugged the man each one by one before they headed to assigned seats. They sat smiling wide, staring at their cups. We made them as an arts and crafts project and they absolutely love them.
   With my entire class in attendance the morning bell rang. I took another sip of my hot chocolate before standing up and addressing my class. "Okay kids, today we are going to have a very special visitor." They began to whisper among themselves. "Okay, okay, quiet down. Would anyone like to take a gue—." I knock on the door cut me short. All headed turned to the closed door as the children were literally sitting on the edge of their seat. I couldn't make them wait any longer, they would just be cruel. "Come in." I said as I eyeballed the expressions on the kids faces. The door creaked opened slowly as a tall figures ducked into the door way.
   Almight pov
  "Come in." I heard a delicate voice through the door. I slowly pushed the door open and crouched down through the door way stepping into the classroom.  Immediately I saw the entire class full of children jump from their seats as little feet scurried toward me. I closed my eyes and braced for impact. When I noticed I wasn't covered in pre schoolers I opened my eyes to see the students all back in their seats perfectly and the teacher now in the back of the classroom. "Now class, how do we greet our guest?" Her soft voice rang through the classroom before the students responded.
"Good morning Almight! Welcome to our classroom!" Their small voice spoke in unison as they were barely able to stay in their seats. I was at a loss for words. I have never seen children so young and so well behaved. "Good morning children! And good morning to you Ms...?" I trailed off as I looked over to the teacher awaiting her name. "Ms. Yn" A smile played upon her lips as she responded. Her smile was bright and welcoming. "Good morning Ms.Yn." I said completing my sentence.
   "It smells amazing in here, may I ask what you all are drinking?"
"Ooh! Ooh!" A student raised his hand drawing my attention toward him. "Yes young man?" I asked as I called on him.
  "Well Ms. makes us specialty hot chocolate sometimes to keep us nice and toasty."
   "It smells delicious."
   " Actually Almight ive made you some as well. No one in the class is left out ever. Here you go." She said as she handed me a hand painted mug with my head on it as a cartoon drawing. I felt my face flush pink as I thanked her. I took the tiny mug from her hands as we made brief eye contact. "How about we all take our first morning sip together?" She asked.
"That sounds like a great idea." I held the cup to my lips as the class did the same. I took a sip and felt a sense of comfort. This was the best hot chocolate I've ever had. It was sweet and the perfect temperature but there was something about this hot chocolate that didn't taste like normal hot chocolate. Some more. It taste amazing. My eyes dropped down into the mug trying to figure out what was giving off this amazing flavor.
"T-this hot chocolate...... IS PLUS ULTRA!"
Yn POV
   I felt my face heat up as I took another sip of my hot chocolate. I love when people enjoy my
hot chocolate. The class giggled as did I seeing the hot coco mustache on Almight's face. "Almight, you've got a hot coco mustache." He let out a loud hearty laugh before speaking. "Well it just shows how delicious your hot chocolate is." I sat my mug down and handed the symbol of peace a napkin. He wiped his face as I leaned against my desk, addressing my class.
   "Today the symbol of peace will be helping us our with class so let's be on our best behavior. Who knows, maybe if we behave he'll come back another time." The class went crazy with excitement at the thought of almight being in their class not once but twice.
We started the day out with some songs and and math before moving into reading. Next it was time for gym. Without me having to ask Almight got the students to line up single file and follow him to the gym. He strutted down the hall heroically as the class copied his walk. It was amazing I just had to take a picture. When we got to the gym the kids did their warm up stretches before they had free play. Almight played with the kids as I planned out the lesson plan for the rest of the week. The children stacked were in a cheerleading pyramid as Almight pretended to be their coach. Something felt off as I looked up over toward the children. I jumped up as I saw all the children about to topple over. I quickly dashed over to the children and began to catch them placing them down one by one in a safe spot. I wiped the sweat off my my forehead as I was now back in my original spot. I looked up to see Almight looking over at my with his mouth slightly gaped open. I gave him a soft smile as I went back to lesson planning.
After gym it was time for lunch. I took the children to the cafeteria and returned back to the classroom to see Almight sitting at my desk with two wrapped boxes. He placed his phone down before speaking.
"Ms. Yn, have lunch with me? It's the least I can do since you made me some of your delicious hot chocolate this morning." I tried to dial back my smile as I blushed. "I'd love to but I'm not sure that's such a good idea." I looked away for a moment trying to avoid his gaze.
   "Oh?" He asked as his tone dropped slightly."Well how about you tell me about it. It'll just be two people having a conversation." I hesitated before nodding my head in agreement and walking over. He stood and pulled out my desk chair. "No it's fine, I'll sit here." I sat atop my desk with my legs crossed. Almight began to unwrap one of the boxes as he spoke.
   "I'm listening."
   "Well what would the kids think? Ya know? I usually get my lunch and go eat with them."
  "I'm sure they wouldn't mind you having lunch without them today." He said as he unwrapped the box completely as opened it up. Amazing smells radiated from the bento box as I saw the marvelous food.
"So I saw in the gym earlier. Can you tell me a bit about your quirk?" He asked as he leaned on the desk slightly, giving me his full attention.
"Sure, so my quirks name is agility. I'm basically very agile with increased senses. So what you saw earlier in the gym was just me doing normal people things at an accelerated speed. But it wasn't an easy quirk to improve upon. It took countless hours of gymnastics and speed training and LOTS of combat training—." I felt something press against my leg slightly. As I looked down I saw Almight pushing the unwrapped box off food toward me. He flashed his heroic smile at me.
"You're not going to give up, are you?" He didn't respond, he only continued to smile at me. I hopped up from the desk and walked behind it. I went into my bag that was next to Almight and pulled out the bento box I had packed for the day. I held in front of me before speaking. "I'll eat, but only if you eat what I brought. But this is NOT lunch, this is just two people talking and eating."
"Okay, let's trade." I handed him the bento box in my hands and sat back down. I watched as he opened the bento box and immediately took a bite. The atmosphere around seemed to have shifted as he placed his hand over his heart.
"This is......the best cooking I've ever had." My entire face turned a bright red as I immediately looked everywhere else in the room.
"Please, you're too kind. It's just something I threw together."
"Oh please Ms.Yn, you're being too modest. How do you do it? Family recipes?"
My face went flush even more as I looked down at the floor. "Actually I just put a little love into everything I make."
"Well it's absolutely amazing." I looked back up at him and he was blushing just as hard as I was with the same cheesy smile. We continued to talk as we enjoyed each others food. His food tasted just as amazing as it smelled. I felt like I was in heaven. Before long it was time to start class again and the students began to return.
Almight POV
My phone began to ring as the students filed into the the classroom.
"One moment, I have to take this." I stepped out of the classroom and answered the call, it was Nezu calling.
"Hello?"
"Ah! Almight! So nice to hear from you. Midnight has gathered all the faculty in my office and she told us that there has been someone to peak your interest. You must come back and tell us all about it over tea."
"Well actually sir I—."
"See you soon." I let out a deep sight as he hung up the phone before I had time to respond. Note to self: don't call Midnight—even when no one else answers the phone.
I walked back into the classroom and walked over to Ms.Yn. She looked up at me and I almost wasn't able to tell her soft beautiful face.
"Duty calls." She nodded as she understood what I meant.
"Well can I get a picture of you with my class?"
"Of course."
"Duty calls young heros! How about we all get a photo before I leave."
The class all ran over to the back of the classroom as Ms.Yn pulled out her phone. The children crowded around me as she raised the phone.
   "Now what kind of picture would this be if you're not in it?" I placed my arm around her torso and pulled her into my side.
   "Okay let me set up the camera." She said as she bolted to her desk and propped up her phone. She put the timer on and ran back over. I pulled her back into my side as I balanced children on my shoulders and one atop my head.
   "Everyone say PLUS ULTRA!" She wrapped her hands around me the best she could, I looked down to her blushing and smiling face as she posed for the picture. I couldn't help but think to my self how beautiful this woman is.
"PLUS ULTRA!!!"
*click*
   She jumped over the children and over to her desk. I grabbed the bento box she had given me and walked over to her. I looked down at the picture she was smiling so widely at and noticed the pink shade that dusted me face. Hopefully no one else will notice.
   "Here you are Ms. Yn" she turned on the heels of her feet to face me. "Keep it, you can return it to me when we have lunch again."
   My face was now beet red as I tried to contain my excitement. "I-I'll uhh, I'll come see you after school. Does tomorrow work?"
   "Works for me. Now go be a hero."
   "Don't worry about a thing, I'll take care of everything. Farewell class!" I said as I began my way out of the classroom.
   "GOODBYE ALMIGHT!!"
*BUMP*
I turned my attention back to where I was walking noticing I hit my head on the low door frame. Giggles came from behind me as I nervously chuckled and crouched out of the door. I was so excited I could barely contain myself. I dashed out of the school building and leaped through the air.
"PLUS ULTRA!"
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fragmentedink-archived · 4 years ago
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Hell to Pay: Part Fifty-Four
I, II, III, IV, V, VI, VII, VIII, IX, X, XI, XII, XIII, XIV, XV, XVI, IX, IX, XX, XXI, XXII, XXIII, XIV, XV, XVI, XVII, XVIII, XVIIII, XXX, XXXI, XXXII, XXXIII, XXXIV, XXXV, XXXVI, XXXVII, XXXVIII, XXXIX, XL, XLI, XLII, XLIII, XLIV, XLV, XLVI, XLVII, XLVIII, XLIX, XLX, LI, LII, LIII
cowritten by @lux-scriptum
The body of the demon Cameron dumped on Cyrus’ floor made a solid thunk. Cyrus winced, but leaned forward out of instinct. Only one of the demon’s eyes was able to open, but the glittering purple was enough to reassure Cyrus that he was indeed still alive. Cyrus chose to look up at Cameron instead, mouth thinning despite his best efforts.
“Is this the sacrifice?” Cyrus asked, despite knowing the answer.
“Do I need to be the one to kill him for this to work?”
Stifling a sigh, Cyrus shook his head. “No,” he promised, reaching for the candles strategically set out. They sprang to life, but even that didn’t ease the amount of magic he had roiling under his skin. He’d been hoarding it for weeks, and supplementing with what he could only really equate to magic energy drinks. It felt like he was seconds away from splitting at the seams and deflating without the magic to hold him up. “But I think I need some of your blood. Just to tie it to him and make sure the spell takes hold in him, not you.”
Cameron took a thin switchblade from his pocket and sliced precisely across his palm. Black blood welled instantly, suggesting he cut deep. “Figured as much. Take what you need.”
“Do you have the ashes?” Cyrus asked, knowing and not caring there was an edge to his voice as he snatched up a cup to catch the blood. It took only a little magic to close the cut on Cameron’s hand with a golden flash. “I think after that we’re ready as we’ll ever be.”
While Cameron left to retrieve the urn, Cyrus went to work, muttering the spells he needed. Where the blood was smeared on the demon, it soaked in and disappeared. As Cameron returned, Cyrus could see the brown hair of the prone figure before him slowly start to morph closer to white.
“With your blood, I was able to shift him into... you,” Cyrus explained as he took the ashes. Cameron hadn’t looked perturbed, but Cyrus felt the need to explain anyway. “Even though... I’m sorry, what is his name?”
“That’s not important.”
Cyrus waitied, folding his hands over the urn patiently. “I want his name.”
“For...?”
“Consider it payment for casting the spell. I never specified my price, but I want to know the name of the demon I’m killing for you. I have to live with his death, whatever he has done.”
Cameron raised a brow, staring him down. Eventually he said, “Sage.”
Cyrus nodded. By this point the demon had fully morphed into an exact likeness of Cameron. Albeit, a very battered looking Cameron. “Even though Sage will be dying in your place, it’s still a body that is... you. It’s cheating in spirit, but Asmi has promised to fill in the gaps to make sure the spell succeeds.”
Cameron gave a thin smile. “I’m sure they’ll be glad to fill the gaps. Angels always are happy to do so.”
“They’re a god, not an angel,” Cyrus muttered, before calling out for Darius, giving a tug with his magic to let the ghost know they were ready.
Darius materialized not a moment later, looking unruffled and determined. “Hello, Cyrus.”
“Are you ready?” Cyrus asked. “We are if this is still what you want to do.”
“It is,” Darius said. He was quiet for a heartbeat. “Will it hurt?”
“It didn’t hurt Levant,” Cyrus said. “This should be the same.” He offered a smile. “Just try not to linger on the other side for three days, and you should be just fine.”
“I will do my best,” Darius said, offering his own smile. He looked at the urn in Cyrus’ hands. “It’s been a long time since I’ve felt pain. Or much of anything else.” He looked back up to Cyrus’ eyes. “Thank you, Cyrus.”
Cyrus only smiled a little, and went to work. It was still a complex spell, and he wove his magic into each word, until his voice was hoarse and his hands shook. Sage’s body slowly disintegrated before them. Without a physical magic to help even out his, the sparks of raw magic fell from his fingertips visibly. Bit by bit, they replaced where Sage had been until a very real Darius lay on the floor instead.
Darius’ golden eyes flickering open was the last thing Cyrus saw before his own rolled back and he toppled to the side.
---
Cameron watched from his spot as Cyrus crumpled into the floor. He was well aware the witch’s heart was still beating, even if his nose was bleeding steadily. He stepped over Cyrus’ body and knelt next to Darius.
Even if Darius’ brown skin was currently leeched of its warmth, he was still him, still physical and now breathing. And now staring up at him unblinkingly. Even though Cameron was pulling his suit jacket off to cover Darius’ naked frame. “I have clothes for you in the car,” he said. “I didn’t have anything from before, so I had some made.”
Darius opened his mouth to speak, and then closed it, frowning. Instead he took Cameron’s hand into his icy ones. Cameron’s entire body flinched when Darius kissed the top of his hand, almost in a thank you.
“Well,” Cameron said, tersely. “It was the least I could do. I’ll get the witch’s mate.” He slipped his hand from Darius’ and pulled out his phone to send a text, telling the demon to come collect Cyrus and put him to bed. He looked down at Darius, despite the blood pounding in his head. “I’ll be right back. Don’t move.”
Not that he could.
And it certainly seemed like an amusing thing for Cameron to say by the look on Darius’ face.
He ignored it and disappeared back to his car for the clothes he promised. By the time he got himself back inside, Darius had moved himself into a sitting position, or was trying. “I thought I told you to not move,” Cameron said, flatly, already moving to help sit him up.
Darius patted Cameron’s arm, as if he were trying to humor Cameron. Cameron ignored the suggestion that this was humorous in any way and carefully moved in front of Darius to begin putting clothes on him. “Are you cold?
When Darius shrugged, Cameron sighed irritably. “I see five hundred years in limbo hasn’t taught you how to give yes or no answers.”
Cameron moved to pick Darius up and set him on the couch. He grabbed the few throw blankets available and wrapped Darius up tight, remembering how Lev complained about being cold.
Sorin eventually popped into the house, looking flustered and anxious. Cameron and Darius both watched mildly as he fussed over Cyrus’ limp body.
It was that inopportune time that his phone decided to start buzzing. He had let it go to voicemail twice before answering Ash the third time.
“What the fuck did you do?” Ash said, sounding like he was in tremendous pain.
“I’m not sure I know what you mean,” Cameron said, indifferently, watching Darius.
Darius frowned, but Cameron just looked away as Ash laid into him, giving a few rather choice words about whatever it is Ash ranted and raved about. “I can’t see and I can’t access any of my magic, Cameron. So I ask, what the fuck did you do?”
He wasn’t sure that he had been expecting exactly that, but considering Asmi, and how they are the god to the angels, this was something on brand for the angels. “I gave Lev what he wanted.”
“You gave Lev-” the phone thudded and Cameron could hear Ash yelling at Lev from wherever he was.
Cameron waited a few moments to see if the idiot would pick his phone back up but when he didn’t he decidedly hung up and turned his focus back to the scene in front of him.
Sorin had Cyrus’ head in his lap and was trying to clean the blood. “Cyrus wasn’t sure if you were staying or not,” he said, distractedly. “So he had the guest room set up.”
Cameron looked to Darius, who was already staring at him expectantly. He frowned. “I should… probably let you stay here for a day or two. I need to talk to Nik.”
Darius nodded.
Cameron had completely spaced it off. He’d kick himself later for it, but he had to get Nik’s overreaction out of the way before he brought back someone who was just dead for five hundred years. Last thing he needed was Darius to get sick or for Nik to burst a blood vessel yelling at him because he brought someone home he didn’t expect.
Cameron got up from the couch and swatted Sorin’s hands away before hauling Cyrus over his shoulder and began carrying him back towards their bedroom. “And they called you a soldier.”
Sorin rightfully didn’t say anything and went back to Cyrus’ side when Cameron carefully placed him on the bed. He propped pillows to help with blood flow and left Sorin there to fuss while he tended to Darius.
---
Nik and Lev had spent the last hour or so putting the gifts from the babyshower away.. There were so many and if it hadn’t been for his belly, it was the gifts and the nursery itself that made it feel real. That he was in fact having a baby.
That was if the kid managed to survive whatever hell Amara and the witch had unleashed on the demonic lands.
He held onto a soft blue and white baby blanket Nate had brought for the baby. “I’m not really doing the right thing, am I?”
“It doesn’t take a genius, Nik,” Ash said, from the doorway. “But I already told you I’d do my best to help keep the baby healthy.”
Nik side glanced Lev, who looked a little saddened. “It might be best for the baby,” Lev said, quietly. “I don’t want to lose either of you.”
Nik looked back down at the blanket, and ran his fingers across one of the thick blue stripes. “I don't want to leave you and Cameron. I also don’t want to deal with Papi. Last thing I need is him breathing down my neck.”
“Could Bay and Nate keep him away from you?” Lev asked. “Or Ash? I don’t want him anywhere near you. You’re ours.”
“I’m sure both Bay and Nate would be more than glad to keep Az’ril away from Nik so he can incubate in peace,” Ash said.
Nik rolled his eyes. “You exhaust me.”
“Yeah, well, next time I tell you to do something, maybe you should do it,” Ash replied, unfazed.
Lev touched Nik’s shoulder. “It wouldn’t be forever.”
Nik sighed. “I’ll… think about it.”
Lev opened his mouth as if to say something, but instead choked on nothing at all and doubled over.
“Lev?” Nik said, putting a hand on Lev’s shoulder. “What’s wrong?” At nearly the same time, Ash crumpled to the ground, pain twisting his face. “Ash- whats going on?”
His voice was rising as Lev heaved, puking black nothing onto the floor, where it slowly faded away. “Will someone fucking answer me?”
Ash’s breath was shallow, and he wheezed in pain, but not before Celeste appeared in the doorway with Dakota in her arms. “Nik, take him,” she ordered, moving to check on Lev.
Dakota was luckily sleeping in Nik’s arms, but he still watched in horror as Lev seemed to be dispelling his own magic.
“Nik,” Ash rasped, “Grab my phone. Right now.”
Nik hurried to grab the phone from Ash’s room, finding it on a desk, and returned as quickly as he could while not waking the baby. “Here.”
The bright green in Ash’s eyes was fading in and out, and Nik could see bruises peeking out from under his shirt. Nik knew enough that it meant that Ash had used far too much magic and it was now burning him nearly from the inside out.
He swiped it from Nik’s hand. It was nearly half a minute before Ash managed to get someone on the other line. ““What the fuck did you do?” Ash snarled.
Rage whitened Ash’s face. “I can’t see and I can’t access any of my magic, Cameron. So I ask, what the fuck did you do?”
Ash froze, head snapping up. “You gave Lev-”
He dropped his phone and tried getting up to his feet, even when in searing blinding pain. “What was that fucking bargain you made with Asmi?” Ash yelled. “And why the fuck did you rope me into it?”
“Ash-”
Ash’s mouth snapped shut when Celeste whipped her head in his direction. “You shut your mouth right now, Ashwyn. You are not helping.”
“I don’t know,” Lev croaked. “I said I’d help take the punishment if necromancy was practiced again, but I was supposed to be the only one anyway.”
“Well someone clearly didn’t get the memo,” Ash bit out. “And now I can’t access any of my magic, including the magic that I was using to keep Nik’s baby healthy.”
Nik’s head went very quiet and he went to pick the phone up. But unsurprisingly Cameron had ended the call.
He pulled out his own phone.
Nik: where are you
It was a moment before Cameron finally deigned to answer.
Cameron: I’m at the witch’s house. I was going to call you in a minute.
Nik: sure you were. Why the hell are you performing necromancy???
Cameron: It was something that needed done. And Lev had asked for Darius, so that’s what I’m doing.
Anger sizzled through Nik’s blood and he threw his phone across the room. “Great.”
“I’ll talk to Asmi,” Ash said, using the crib to hold himself up. “I have an inkling they're behind this."
---
It was only after Cameron got Darius settled in the guest room did Darius ask him for something to write with; Merely a scribble on his hand.
Cameron nodded slowly and went towards the witch's bedroom and leveled a single knock before opening the door. "Where are your writing utensils?"
Sorin was in his demonic form, watching Cyrus for a moment before climbing down from the bed and leading him back towards the office.
There was a sense of a chaotic, but methodical organization that Cameron could make out. Clearly the witch wasn't able to keep his work space clean. Either that or he didn't consider it important enough.
Sorin jumped on the desk, a few papers falling to the floor, as he picked his way across it. He poked around for several moments before sitting on the edge on the left side, draping his tail over the edge until he could grab it with his fluffy orange-striped tail and pull that open. Inside was a supply of pens and sticky notes of varying sizes.
Without prompting, Cameron reached for a pen and one of the larger pads of sticky notes and headed back to the bedroom. Darius was exactly where Cameron had left him, and was watching him very closely. He put the pen and notes in Darius’ extended hand. “Can you still write?”
Darius rose a brow, but looked down at the pad of paper for a few moments before very carefully writing: You should call home and talk to Nik.
“Why don’t you go ahead and tell me that and I will.”
Darius’ brows furrowed, and he looked down once more only to write: :/
Cameron sighed internally. “Alright,” he said, fishing out his phone once more, even if he detested phones. “Have your way.” He rolled his eyes at the smile he got in return for his troubles and decided to FaceTime Nik and get this over with.
It took nearly five minutes of continuous calling before Nik answered. He looked every bit annoyed and angry as Cameron expected. “Oh well, thank you for gracing me with your presence, Cameron.”
“You’re welcome,” Cameron replied, mildly.
“So were you going to just bring home your dead ex-boyfriend and expect us to welcome him in with open arms, or...?”
“He was never my boyfriend,” Cameron said. “That implies I ever agreed to date him.”
“Oh right,” Nik snapped, “just like you’re not my boyfriend, right?”
Cameron ignored that. “It was not my intention to not tell you,” he said. “It just never crossed my mind.”
“It didn’t cross your mind while you went behind my back?”
“I haven’t thought about Darius in over five hundred years,” Cameron said, “and you have also been rather busy being pregnant and miserable, so no, it never really crossed my mind to tell you upsetting news.”
Nik’s eyes narrowed. “Whatever. So is he just going to be living with us, or are you just gonna pick right back off where you left off? Do I need to, you know, pack my bags and go back home now that you have your original model back?”
“I have no intention of making you go anywhere you do not wish to go. If you choose to go back to Liwen, that is solely your choice and yours alone. Everything will remain the same unless you make it so.”
“Yeah right.”
“He will remain with us until he is able to live and move on his own without any assistance. After that, he is free to move about and out just as you are. Nothing changes, Nik. I am mated to you and you alone.”
Nik’s lips thinned. “Fine. When are you going to be home, because I’m hungry. Or are you giving me permission to cook?”
Cameron’s nostrils flared. He did not want Nik cooking in his kitchen. The absolute mess Nik makes no matter how much he tries to not make a mess makes Cameron’s skin crawl. “We will not be back until tomorrow morning,” he said after a moment of internal debate. “So yes, you may cook. Make Lev clean up after you, if you must.”
That at least got a smile from him- though it was sharp and pointed enough Cameron knew well enough that Nik was going to make a mess of his kitchen on purpose.
tagging:  @incandescent-creativity @solangelo3088 @lil-miss-red @halstudies @littleyellowdinosaur @caelisis @idreamonpaper
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camiddletonxox · 3 years ago
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Post Snooze Shivers
Authors Note - Hey, I am bloody exhausted, Ive had a rough week. How are you all? I needed some justin fluff too, so here it is. :) x
Taglist - @drakewalkerfantasy @ao719 @princess-geek @polishchoicesfan @binny1985 @desireepow @adriansbiss @sophxwithers @hatescapsicum @thequeenofcronuts @gardeningourmet @heauxplesslydevouted @whimsicallywayward15 @ilikemenbutonlyethanramsey @waitingforalana @regencylady1810 @dailydoseofchoices @lovealexhunt @maurine07 @queencarb @alexabeta @schnitzelbutterfingers @alookseeblog @arnikki-2406 @shanzay44 @ophrookie @adiehardfan @choicesficwriterscreations PLEASE SEND ME A MESSAGE OR COMMENT IF YOU WISH TO BE ADDED TO TAGLIST
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Pairing - Justin Mercado x OC/Charity Middleton
Rating - Teen and fluffy, because I love a bit of fluff
Summary - After a nap, Charity has the shivers
Word Count - 900
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There was a endless list of things that she loved about Justin, like how he was the sweetest lover a girl could wish for. How he was sexy and made her weak at the knees when they were in the bedroom. But there was one thing that beat all of those things and made him just perfect. It was how he just did the little things for her, because after a long shift, she wouldn’t want to clean the house or cook the dinner, she would just want to nap.
An example of this was after she had been working to keep an eye on a full ward, even if she had patients and surgical cases on another. She had only meant to do a eight hour shift, but ended up doing at least a 12 hour shift that started at 4am in the morning. Once she had gotten home, she had thrown herself in the shower, and brushed her hair and fell asleep, and she had been asleep for an hour.
Justin had come home at 5:30, he had walked into the house as he usually did, and he found his fiancee laying on the bed, and she was peacefully asleep, she looked beautiful when she slept, there was just something about her when she was sleeping. He placed a soft kiss on her forehead, and he went to grab a shower himself, after all he had spent most of his days in stuff meeting rooms, and he was feeling sweaty. Once he had been showered, he went to check on her, she was still asleep, she was still peaceful so he had no intention of bothering her.
“I love you” he whispered to his sleeping fiancee, as he placed a gentle kiss on her head
He went downstairs and he decided to go through what they had in the freezer, because he could not be bothered to cook, and he was 100% certain that Charity would be feeling the same, if her shift had only gotten worse (even if it stayed the same) as she was saying at lunchtime. After a small time digging through the freezer, he found a chicken bbq pizza, and some mozzarella sticks and potato wedges, and he decided to wait to put them on.
Meanwhile, upstairs Charity had started to wake up, she yawned and closed her eyes for a small moment, she was bloody exhausted, it had been a shift. She rolled onto her back and all a sudden felt the cold, she groaned quietly in frustration as another yawn escaped her lips. She sat up and she went downstairs, to find a blanket, since she was sure a blanket would warm her up.
“You alright?” Justin’s voice startled her, since she didn’t know he was home, but she smiled. She continued to shiver slightly.
“ I am” she smiled, as she looked for a warm enough looking blanket because right now that’s all she could think about.
“Are you cold?” He chuckled slightly, she truly was the cutest thing, she got cold randomly and when she shivered, she just looked adorable.
Charity pouted and she nodded. “Post snooze shivers, I am self diagnosing” she replied and he couldn't help but laugh.
“I didn’t think you believed in self diagnosis” he mused and Charity just stared at him with a death stare.
“I just need a blanket” she groaned and he chuckled, and he went to go and find her what she was after, a nice warm blanket. He grabbed a fluffy white one from the spare room they had that they used for storage and he brought it to her, but once again found himself having a little chuckle as she was sat on the bed, her arms around herself, surely trying to warm herself up. He sat down next to her, and wrapped her in the blanket, to which she smiled, still shivering but gradually she was starting to feel better.
“Are you feeling better, my love?” He asks softly, his warm hand caressed her cheek for a moment, and she smiled gratefully, for he was the best fiance a girl could wish for.
“I am” she smiled and the two of them shared a gentle yet sweet kiss, it was only a gentle one but it was definitely a kiss that was needed on both parts
“I am glad, I will pop our dinner on, you just relax” he uttered, as he went in to kiss her again, because she was just so irresistible.
“Are you sure you don’t require any help?” She asks as she starts standing up but he playfully tackled her to the bed, laying on top of her, and he kissed her gently, and kissed that sweet spot on the side of her neck, that no matter what always seemed to melt her into a million little pieces.
“I will be fine, I found some pizza, mozzarella sticks and potato wedges” he said and Charity smiled, and she snuggled into the blanket some more.
“I am sorry I haven’t cooked anything, I just haven’t felt like cooking” she explains but Justin pops a finger on her lips to quieten her down.
“It is fine, I love you” he whispers, pressing another kiss to her lips that made her hum in absolute delight,
She gazed up to him for a moment, “I love you too, Justin”
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cafedanslanuit · 4 years ago
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summary: be it by want or instinct, people will always end up hurting you. and the only thing you can do is not give them the chance to do so.
pairing: nishinoya x reader
warnings: mentions of depression
words: 1.2k
notes: i really loved writing this one c: thank you @tmkki​ for reading this and giving your opinion <333
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i.
Sometimes I close my eyes and I see her. My mom sitting on the floor, sobbing uncontrollably as she rips apart photographs where my dad appears. Loud music is playing and now I think maybe that’s why I don’t like harsh noise. I approach her and she yells at me to leave her alone. She tells me I look like him and I wonder if I still do. It’s been twelve years since then, but every time I look at the mirror I wonder if I have the face of the first man that hurt me.
“Don’t trust men,” she cries, as I bring her a painkiller and a glass of water. “They will rip your heart apart.”
“I won’t,” I promise, and I spent the next years doing just that. Whenever someone would smile at me, I always closed my eyes and went back to that moment. The nauseating ring on my ears from the loud music, the ripped photographs scattered on the floor and the image of my mother crawling into bed every day with a bottle of wine and a lost look in her eyes.
Be it by want or instinct, people will always end up hurting you. And the only thing you can do is not give them the chance to do so.
ii.
His existence was like the sun. 
Every morning he entered the classroom, he shared his warmth and brought light from within his eyes. It was almost terrifying how much he shone, to the point that I thought he could burn me if I dared to touch him with my cold hands. Nishinoya always laughed with his mouth wide open and his eyes closed, never caring if anyone was watching, just basking in his own happiness and glee. I believed he truly never questioned himself, always talking as if he wasn’t afraid of saying something wrong, as if he was so sure of himself no one could bring him down.
Just like the sun, I settled with watching him from afar, hoping his warmth would reach me. I searched for his light on my dark days, chuckling as I saw him prank his friends and listening intently when he spoke passionately about volleyball.
I had always thought he was good on the eyes but never expected him to look as beautiful as he did the first time I contemplated him talking about serving. The way his cheeks were flushed and his words tumbled with each other, I could have stared for hours. His grin became wider, his brown eyes became golden and for those few moments, I forgot about the dark clouds hanging over my head.
I wondered what loving as intensely as he did felt.
iii.
Nishinoya barged in front of my desk on a Tuesday morning of our first high school year, trying to catch his breath as he explained he was about to be banned from the volleyball team if he didn’t ace the exam we had on Friday. He claimed his friend had told him I was smart, and a vague memory of me handing out my notes to said friend came to my mind.
He continued rambling for several more minutes, stressing the importance of the match was and how he didn’t know what else to do. It took him to stare at me arching his right eyebrow for me to register I had been quiet the whole time. I nodded and tried to smile, hating how unfamiliar it felt on my face. Thankfully, Nishinoya’s smile outshone mine and before I knew it, he was making arrangements for us to meet after his volleyball practice.
And for a moment, I forgot. I forgot about the eviction notices, I forgot about the sleepless nights and the constant headaches. As I swam into his chocolate eyes, my mind was only filled with the sound of an unknown tune that filled my heart with peace. He thanked me once again for agreeing to help him with the exam, as if I ever had the chance to deny his warmth.
He left with a smile and I felt hungry for the first time in the week. 
iv.
If he ever saw the empty wine bottles near the trash bin, he never commented on it. He also made his case to never question why my room always looked like I had just cleaned it, a sharp contrast with the dull mess of the rest of the house. Not once did he ask about the bags under my eyes or the days I missed school. When getting out of bed was more than I could handle, getting notified with a text message from him wishing me to get better soon always brought a smile to my face.
All I knew was that every time I leaned on the opened gym’s door frame during one of his practice matches, he always kept his unspoken promise of walking me home after he was done. I can still remember his stories, one after the other without a pause, never failing in making me look at him in awe. He would always make convincing arguments to take detours to get some food, my mood improving after having my first meal of the day. No matter what we did during those walks, the one thing that never wavered was the huge smile on his face as he said goodbye.
I always asked myself if he somehow knew. If, by any chance, he could tell it was raining on me on those days. He must have known he couldn’t stop it, but always did his best to make sure I danced a little in the rain, even if it was just for the short while it took us to get to my house.
v.
The night came and the sun had to set.
It had been three years since we had met, but time always feels so short when someone has to say goodbye. Nishinoya had mentioned his desire to discover the world and experience everything life had to offer, so it was natural for him to set on a long trip just after graduation. He was so enthusiastic about it I couldn’t help but find solace in my own turmoil of emotions. For a usually impulsive person, he had his bag packed for a week before he actually had to leave. I still remember how he bounced up and down as he told me about it the last afternoon we spent together, and I wished he would keep his smile forever.
Was it selfish of me to not want the sun to be taken away? Was it delusional to even call him that? I touched my arms seeking the warmth he left after his last hug but it was long gone. He had promised to send a postcard, and even if I knew I would treasure it, I also understood I shouldn’t cling to it. My heart knew that was the last time I would ever see him. And it was okay. Some people aren’t meant to stay.
Be it by want or instinct, people will always end up hurting you. But, if you got to be truly happy by their side, you will always be thankful you gave them the chance to do so.
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bitoffairydust · 3 years ago
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Yesterday we came home from the hospital as a family of three.
Things haven’t been super smooth sailing, nor did I expect them to be, but our little one is doing well and I’m healing fine so that’s really all we could ask for.
Wednesday was a bit of a whirlwind. I was scheduled to go into the hospital for my induction at 5, so we spent the morning doing a bit of last minute clean up around the place. Then around 12, someone from L&D called and said if we were available to come in earlier, we could just show up whenever. We still had a few things to finish up so we had lunch, I took a shower while my wife did the dishes, then she took a shower and got the cats set up for a few days home alone before we called an Uber to head to the hospital.
We got there around 3:30-4 so not super early but they got us into the delivery rooms right away and someone came over to go over a few questions (medical stuff and what I was hoping for with the birth). I got hooked up to the contraction and fetal heartbeat monitors, they got my IV line in, and then we went over the induction options for me. Based on my last check up, I was about 1.5 cm dilated, so before anything else they had to get me to about 3 cm, which they offered to do with either the foley balloon or misoprostol. Then the plan was to start me on oxytocin to get contractions going. I requested the miso, cause I figured there would be enough things going in and out of my vagina for the evening without an additional thing thrown in there 😅
It actually took a little while for the induction to start because as it turns out, three people (myself included) showed up for their induction within 5 minutes of each other and I was the last so it was closer to 7 before the resident came to examine me. In doing so they found I had actually progressed to 3 cm on my own since my last appointment so they were able to just get me started up on oxytocin.
Contractions started up pretty much instantly but they were very manageable. I’d say just from the oxy progression, the worst contraction I got was maybe a 5 on the scale from 1 to 10. Then they ran through the dosage and did another exam to see where I was at. They didn’t give an exact number then but I think it was somewhere between 4 and 5 cm. Before starting me up on another dosage of oxytocin, they went ahead and tried to break my water as it hadn’t yet. They didn’t actually manage to fully get it, and honestly, at that point, them trying to get it to break was actually more painful than the contractions I’d experienced that far.
That changed pretty fast once they established they’d gotten enough of the membranes for the time being. I’m fuzzy on the timeline but I think it must have been close to 10 at that point, and the pain level climbed very quickly along with contraction intensity and frequency. I tried to bounce on a ball for a bit and the nurse showed my wife some pressure points to try and help with the pain but it did nothing. Around 10:30 I requested the epidural, which was unfortunate timing on my part as the anesthesiologist had just gone in to assist with a c-section. By the time she was out and got to my room it was about 11:30 and pain was an easy 10 on the scale with contractions maybe a minute and a half apart.
The epidural itself went in pretty smoothly but at first there wasn’t much to be said for relief. Since they mentioned it could take 15 minutes to really be felt I didn’t think much of it, and I did feel like things were getting a bit better as minutes passed. The last contraction I was asked about felt more back down to a 5 on the pain scale so the anesthesiologist left. Unfortunately, that 5 turned out to be a fluke because pain shot back up pretty quickly and I was soon at a 10 again, no matter the dosage boosts.
That part was quite honestly the worst of it all, having expected some sort of relief and finding it to be just as worse as before. To make it worse, baby was not handling those contractions well. His heart beat would drop with the start of each contraction, though it picked up before the end of them so though they wanted to keep an eye on it it wasn’t cause for intervention yet. The nurse monitored his heart rate with me laying flat on my back, on my right side, on my left side and then sitting straight up. The latter was the slightly better option for him, but definitely did nothing to help my pain management. She did get me back on my back to try and relieve me a bit since the difference to the effect on baby wasn’t huge but at that point contractions were relentless. I was dealing with back labor contractions, which were maybe a minute apart, and because they suspected the placenta had detached a bit when they tried to break my water, when a contraction would subside, the pain in my abdomen would become more prominent and almost to the same level. It made it feel like I was contracting non stop with no break for catching my breath or trying to recuperate.
Around 2 in the morning there were a few people in the room examining me and trying to figure out the best course of action. A C-section being needed started being mentioned if things didn’t improve, but I was at a little more than 9 cm by then. The OB and the anesthesiologist had a talk outside the room and decided to re-do my epidural as it had clearly failed (they did an ice test and it was clear I wasn’t frozen anywhere at all), and if I were to end up needing a c-section, I’d have to have it redone anyway.
She took two tries to get everything situated in my back. That second try did the trick. I don’t think I can even describe the amount of relief when my foot started feeling warm and then going numb, and within maybe 5 minutes it was amazingly painless. They did another ice test and this time I felt no cold at all anywhere, and when the nurse pointed out I’d just had a contraction it cemented it because I’d not felt it at all. The only thing I could feel at that point was a bit of abdominal pressure every now and then. And I will say, I did have a great team with me. Everyone was very empathetic and trying their best to get me to feel some form of relief before the second epidural. And they seemed almost as relieved as me when that last one finally worked - especially because after that baby’s heart stabilized.
By the time the epidural was done, even though they figured I had likely progressed to 10 cm, they elected to let me rest for a bit, and give baby a chance to keep making his way down, so I got to catch a breather until about 4 am. Then they told me it was time to try and start pushing, with the nurse guiding me since I still couldn’t feel any sort of contraction. I pushed through maybe four or five contractions without huge progress, and the OB came in to assess and established baby needed a bit of help coming out. They set up the forceps and had me push through another couple of contractions, but they were pretty week and hard to catch even for the nurse by then, and baby’s heart rate was starting to struggle again. So they got on the phone to get a room prepped for c-section, and the doctor told me I would get to push through one last contraction, but if nothing happened we’d have to go into surgery.
The nurse tried to wait for a good one (she had already reupped the oxytocin drip at that point) and by some miracle, the next push for his head half out and with the second one it was completely out. The rest of his body followed quickly and before I had even caught up with it all, I had his tiny little body on me.
Even though they’d brought someone in from the NICU just to be safe, he ended up being perfectly okay. I needed a bit more attention because I had more bleeding than normal, and I had to have 4 stitches and another IV line put in to help with the blood loss. Then we stayed in the delivery room until about 6 at which point we were brought over to our postpartum room.
Since then nursing has undoubtedly been the biggest challenge. He did have a tongue tie, but he struggled from the get go. He would latch well but lose it and then get frustrated and cry. He also is a very lazy eater - I’d spend easily 30-45 minutes per side trying to get him to stay aware long enough to take in maybe 15 minutes of proper feeding, but he’d start smacking his lips practically the moment he was done, and he’d wake up hungry again within the hour.
Unfortunately there was no lactation consultant on staff as she was on vacation this week. People commented time and time again about how I had no supply issue, and his latch (when he was latched) was good, but it didn’t seem to help. I also felt I kept getting conflicting information as one moment he’d have crystals in his urine to indicate potential dehydration, and the next they’d be telling me he had barely loss any of his birth weight and was perfectly on target for that.
We did decide to get his tongue tie cut as it seemed to really be frustrating him at feeds and make it harder for my breast to properly fit into his mouth. The feed that followed the cut was easily the best we’ve had to date, but unfortunately it went downhill from there. After we got home and I tried to feed him last night, he did fine on the right side but then only lasted 10 minutes on the left and then lost it, started to scream and wouldn’t latch again. I haven’t been able to make him latch on the left side since, and I only managed to get him latched to the right a couple more times before we ran in the same problem, so we had to go ahead and start giving him bottles. I’ll be trying to work through it with a lactation consultant as soon as possible, and I’ve now started pumping, but in the meantime, him being properly fed was the biggest thing.
He does also have a small fracture on his right clavicle, likely from the forceps, but the pediatrician said that will resolve on its own within the week. In the meantime we just have to be very cautious how we move his right arm, and she prescribed him Tylenol if need be.
In the meantime we’re just trying to settle down to our new sleep deprived routine. But then looking into all the sweet, funny faces he makes both when asleep and awake makes it feel pretty worth it.
- Marie
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darthspideys · 4 years ago
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antithesis // six
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din djarin x jedi! reader
summary: You expected to find another of yoda’s species, much less under the protection of a particularly stubborn mandalorian. Little do you know its that discovery that will change life as you know it, and put all three of you in danger you never saw coming.
words: ~2k
a/n: No thoughts... only that next weeks episode is called “The Jedi” and we’re finally gonna get to see ahoska tano in live action.... 
disclaimer: I h8 baby yoda and it shows
It’s nighttime when you get to Yavin IV. Somehow you’d convinced him that if he wants to know where the child comes from, the three of you need to go there first. It’s comfortably silent, and stagnant, not even a breeze blows through the trees.  You touch down as quietly as you can, and you breathe a sigh of relief as soon as you get your feet in the grass. You take off your shoes, which surprises Din. “I told you, I grew up on a farm,” You tell him. 
“Does not explain not wanting to wear shoes.” 
“I haven’t felt grass in forever,” You reply. 
“You miss home,” He observes.
“Come on,” You say, as the child squirms in his arms, “We’re almost there.” 
The door opens to the house and Kes Dameron steps out onto the porch, blaster drawn. Din reaches for his own blaster but you grab his hand to stop him, and signal him to stand back as you walk forward. You walk towards the house slowly, ready to dodge if he shoots which you don’t think he will. 
“Hey,” You say, arms raised. “It’s me.” 
He looks at you in shock and lowers the weapon. You see a figure crouched behind his legs, but as soon as you step into the light of the porch a little boy runs out into your arms. You smile as soon as you see him, and you scoop him up into your arms. Poe Dameron squeals your name, and you squeeze him tight. “Hi kid, I missed you.” 
“You did?” His eyes are just like his mothers and they look at you with wonder. 
“Of course I did,” You say, trying to hide the tiredness in your voice. 
 Kes finally leaves the porch and comes out to meet you, you can tell even more so now that he’s surprised to see you. To be fair, you're surprised that you came back as much as he is but desperate times. “Hi,” He says never taking his eyes off you. 
“Hi.” You say back, allowing yourself to have a moment. 
“What are you doing here?” He asks, finally.
“I’m in trouble, just a little bit.” 
“Oooh,” Poe coos from your arms, “Are you going to get a timeout?” 
“I don’t know,” You tickle him a little and he giggles, “Maybe.” 
“What kind of trouble?” Kes asks you. 
“The Jedi kind,” You sigh, “You’re not in danger but I need a place to lie low for a couple of cycles, and I need to use the tree.” 
“Of course,” He says, “I still don’t know how you use that thing but it’s all yours.” 
“I’ve explained it to you, multiple times,” You narrow your eyes at him. “You don’t listen,” You break with a smile. 
“Probably because it makes no sense.” 
The trees rustle and you turn your attention back to the tree line. You forgot that Din was there, oops. “Also I brought a-friend with me.” As if on cue, Din steps out of the tree line and Kes is surprised again. 
He looks at you with wide eyes, “Did you go home?” 
That’s a loaded question and he knows it. He should also know that you wouldn’t find him at home, though most people have a different definition of home than you do. “I didn’t, I just happened upon him.” 
“That’s very coincidental considering the fact that you-“ 
You cut him off, by punching him in the arm when Din gets close enough to hear you. “Just a coincidence,” You say with a smile, signaling to him that the conversation about that is over. “Anyways I appreciate you doing me this favor and-“ You turn to Poe, who’s beginning to fall asleep in your arms, “shouldn’t you be in bed?” 
He’s asleep now and you smile, walking into the house with Din at your heels. The two men stand in the kitchen as you put the young boy to bed in his room, you tuck him in softly and close the door quietly. 
You see the way that Kes is looking at you from the kitchen counter, and you sigh. You turn to Din, “You should probably go check on the ship.” He looks at you confused at first, but eventually he nods and walks out of the front door. You turn to Kes, bracing yourself for the conversation you’ve been avoiding for the past year. “So.. long time no see.” 
“That’s a nice way of putting it.” 
A long drawn out pause ensues, “I’m going to be perfectly honest with you, like I always have been. I don’t know what to say here.” You keep your distance, “I’m not going to say I’m sorry because I know it will just make it worse.” 
“But you are sorry?” 
“Of course I am.” 
“You told me you were done with Mandalorians years ago.” 
You knew he was going to bring it up, you cross your arms over your chest and lean back in your chair, “I am.” He’s going to push it, and he’s going to push your buttons because he knows what they are. He’s angry with you, it doesn’t take a genius to know that, and on some level he has every right to be. 
He crosses his arms in an attempt to mimic you and gives it right back to you, “It doesn’t look like it.” 
“It’s a long story,” You start, knowing that he’ll tell you that he has time so you continue on with the story. “That child he has is force sensitive and I need it before it causes too much trouble. I didn’t think a Mandalorian was protecting it. You saw Mandalore, I didn’t think any of them were left.” 
He looks at you in a way that you used to beg him to. He looks like he wants to reach across the table and grab your hand, “I know but-” 
“What?” You ask, though you already know what he’s going to say. You know exactly what this whole conversation has been about, the issue that he’s been trying to unearth. It’s not about Din, it never was, it always was about you and where you’ve been. 
“It’s been a long time, and you just show up out of nowhere. You didn’t even want to come, you just needed something from me.” 
“I wanted to come,” You say, with emotion tickling at the back of your throat. You really don’t want to talk about it, but you figure that you're going to have to face it now or later. “It’s hard for me too, to be here, to see the two of you-”
“Hard for you? It’s harder for me and my son-”
“I can’t do anything about that!” You raise your voice louder than you mean to. “She was my best friend, Kes, and I miss her but I cannot be here,” You pause trying to hold back the emotion in your voice that threatens to overtake your entire argument. “You don’t want me here,” You say quieter than the rest of it, “Neither of you want me here. I am not his mother, I cannot be his mother, and you-” That’s a whole other thing altogether. “You don’t want me here.” 
His voice is softer this time, “I want you here.” 
You know what he means, you know what all of this means, and you’re mad at yourself for even coming here knowing what you know and knowing the history. He thinks he wants you here, but he doesn’t. What he wants is  his wife back and he’s trying to hold onto you like you're some piece of her that’ll fit into a puzzle he’s trying to solve. Maybe you are, maybe you hold some piece of her with you, but you still don’t fit. 
“I told you I couldn’t be here, I told you that this isn’t my life and that I couldn’t do all of this. There will always be people looking for me, always someone who wants to kill me and everyone that I love, I won’t put you in harm's way.” 
“And suddenly I’m getting a sense of deja vu.” 
“You ask me everytime to stay and I tell you that I can’t. It’s the same story, so what makes you keep asking?” 
“Because every time I don’t want you to leave.” 
“Well maybe if you didn’t want me to leave you could stop being so mad when I show up.” 
He’s smiling, “Can’t help it.”
“I know, being a jerk comes so naturally to you,” You laugh a little. “I will stop avoiding you from now on. I will come back here to your stupidly beautiful farm and stay for a couple of days at least.” 
“I’d ask you to promise-”
“-but you know I don’t do that.” 
“Speaking of things that you don’t do, I think that you should reveal something personal about yourself.” 
“To you?” 
“To him.” 
You roll your eyes, “And what do you suggest I tell him? That I don’t make promises, that I spent six months on a swamp planet with a tiny green thing, that I crashed two x wings in the course of two weeks and or something else that shatters the image I’ve built up of myself.” 
“You always want people to be afraid of you.”
“I don’t want people to challenge me, very different.” 
“I don’t think it's going to make him want to challenge you.” 
You sigh, “I know, but it feels like I’ve lied about it this entire time.” 
“Well the best remedy for that is to just come clean.” 
You get up from the table and walk out into the yard. The tree glows blue in the harsh moonlight, you're drawn to it like you always are, like you're sure Luke was the moment he first laid eyes on the sapling. The way the force flows through it is familiar, you don’t know if it has the answers you're looking for but what scares you more is not finding them. 
You reach out to the tree, putting your hand against its body. The energy is even more powerful when you can touch it yourself, like how the force is clearer when Jedi meditate together. It’s about the physicality of touch, the bringing together of hands, the closeness that comes from being able to hold onto someone or something and not want to let go. 
You know Din is behind you before he even says anything, you've become more sensitive to the way he moves, the tiny telltale signs that he's close.
“I was looking for Mandalorians before I found you. I went to Mandalore after the empire-” You don’t even say it, “I stood in the ashes of the capitol and wondered where it all went wrong, and then I wondered if there were more. Which is more than just curiosity.” 
“I figured it was more than that,” He says. 
“So you know what it is then?” 
You realize as you close your eyes and feel in tune with the tree that you should just come out with it. You’ve been with him for three days now, and if he wasn’t already suspicious then he should be. You turn around and his helmet is in his hands. 
“I’m Mandalorian.”
“You’re Mandalorian.”
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