#And it makes me more sick than my fucking stomach disease does

[overenthusiasticcartoonlover]

So fucking, let me get this correct, useless excuse for a healthcare system USA. I have to pay a fee to a center to get a fucking egd done, that the center won’t take my fucking insurance for, and then I have to pay forty percent of the cost of the egd to my surgeon, because my insurance isn’t required to cover any more than that, if I haven’t reached some magical goddamn deductible. 

Then I also have to pay all of what the anesthesiologist charged! Because insurance wants to fucking whine and scream and throw a fit about the person I didn’t fucking hire and was supplied by said center not being in their special group of people they made a deal with, and that’s completely legal? And there’s no fucking way around this? 

Like, at this point it feels like the people in charge actively want us to fucking suffer, and I wish they could fucking suffer at the hands of the system they created and keep sustaining, but that won’t happen, because they fancy themselves gods and get put above it all, because they get to make the fucking rules.

#I hate the fucking us #I hate us healthcare #I hate us officials #I hate congress the senate all of that fucking bullshit #You fucking allow rich corporate assholes to torture poor people for their amusement #And it makes me more sick than my fucking stomach disease does #Personal Over Rant #I'm so fucking angry about it #This system is full bullshit #US healthcare feels like a fucking scam

[ashes-writing]

burnin for you pt two | stranger things ; g.emerson

A/N ; So uh... I swear, this is not the chapter I intended to write when I sat down earlier but... I really wanted to give Gareth a moment or two to shine. And I personally feel like he definitely gets mean/mouthy and has anger issues, hates to see people being picked on. So... I guess this chapter stemmed from that. So if you wanna see a grumpy drummer get protective over a 'princess' type.. That is this.

ALSO OMG Y'ALL HAVE ME CRYING RN HAPPY TEARS BC LIKE... i did not think anybody would even look at this when I posted it. The fact that people did and they actually seemed to want to see more, like.. fuck, I'm blown away. emotions, man. Thank you thank you thank you so much you don't know how much it means to me. The feedback and stuff really does help and you don't know how much it inspires me.

Pairing ; Gareth Emerson x Sweet!girly!rich reader.

Timeline / Other Stuff to Note ; 

pt one - two - three - four found by clicking since tumblr can't be trusted to show my shit in the tags and it's hit or miss..

set in season four but none of the unholy terrors of the upside down will be happening here. eddie will not be dying. huuuuge note here. Gareth's actions within stem from my own personal headcanons about him having anger issues. And being v.v protective -especially when he's close to someone. Reader, i'll remind you is sweet!girly!rich fem reader. With soooo much insecurity, i s2g. There are reasons for this that are hinted at -will be hinted at. This is gonna be a bit of a slow burn with heaps of sexual tension starting from the next chapter, most likely. Not an intense slow burn but it's not racing towards the finish line either. A jog. that's what this is.

Tag List ; @musichealsscars @aries-arcade @allelitesmut @hcloangcls @krys-orion @rampagewriting --absolutely ignore if you prefer bb and @scoobiessnacks are the only ones I have to tag bc they're on my taglist. if you'd like to be added to my taglists for anything including Stranger things, please let me know or add yourself -> here.

Warnings ; the jocks. they are the warning. there is a confrontation. There is a fight. There is the teeniest mention of blood/injury. There is a v.v. insecure reader. more internal pining on both sides but no real... romantic type stuff... yet.

Other Stuff ; tag list doc || my rules - fandoms and some characters I write for || requests are open (pls.. pls... send me things) but they're limited to headcanon asks + filth/fluff alphabet letters -> send me things.

I do not consent to my work being reposted elsewhere or copied/reworked/rewritten and reposted here or elsewhere. You don't own this, I do. So like... don't steal my shit.

“You.” your nose wrinkles with disgust as you tilt your head slightly and shield your eyes from harsh sunshine above. Mason Allen is standing there, but he’s not alone. No, he’s got two of his idiot friends with him because apparently, stupidity and being an actual creep are  spreading diseases. You swallow hard as the three of them step closer. Surrounding you.

“Relax.” Mason’s voice is quiet. His eyes drag over you longer than necessary. Long enough that you pass over from discomfort to real fear. He steps closer to you. Gently guides your chin up to make you look at him and he’s giving you that plastic fake grin when he does it and you just feel so sick… You shove his hand away with disgust and this only makes him step even closer. There’s an angry gleam in his eyes. It’s scary as hell.

“I’ll scream…” you trail off, eyes darting around yet again and finding no one, “ I bite.” you mumble quietly.

And you will. You do. But you’re hoping to fuck that whatever this is, it doesn’t come to that.

Your stomach does a lazy flip.

“You’ve been hanging all over that fuckin little freak like a bitch in heat since you got here. It’s disgusting. I just wanna know what he has that I don’t, sweetheart.”

You rub the bridge of your nose. Now there’s annoyance mixing in with your fear and neither of those are emotions you handle well at all. They both tend to make you mouthy as all hell. And this is not a good time for that to crop up.

This could go very,very badly if you get mouthy.

Before you even have a second to stop and think about it, your eyes are scanning the parking lot a third time, searching for anybody who looks even a little familiar, a little safe.

You’re mainly hoping to find Gareth but you’re pretty sure he was gone the second the bell rang. He doesn’t usually hang around after school for no reason. Except on Hellfire night and that wasn’t tonight. And given that you don’t know for sure what he drives just yet, you can’t tell if you’re right or not.

“C’mon, doll. Answer the guy. We’re just curious. Y’know Carver beat his ass once, right? Last year, actually.” Mason rubs his chin thoughtfully, gazing at you. That stupid fucking pervy gleam in his eyes the entire time. “You really want a pussy like that, doll?”

Carver. That prick. The one who gave you an entire ten minute lecture on those ‘satanists and their fucking cult’. The one who seems to be something of a wannabe cult leader himself. He pretends to be one of those white knight types but there’s something about him that just makes you a little afraid of the guy. The only jock that you’ve met lately that you’re not afraid of at all is the kid Lucas, you babysit for his mother regularly.

But then you stop and think about it, you’re afraid of a lot of things. Insecure as hell. 

“Why would you want that when you can have this, hm?” Mason gestures to yourself. And you’re trying so,so hard to bite your tongue, to keep the sarcasm in check so this doesn’t go off the rails somehow.

“ He’s not an asshole who likes to gang up on somebody and scare the living shit out of them, for starters?” you list it off. But you’re in full blown panic mode, so naturally, you don’t stop there. Between the anger and the fear, your mouth is about to land you in serious shit.

Or so you think.

“You’ve been with him almost two weeks. You gotta be gettin tired of the freaks by now. How do you know you don’t like me, hm?  You never really gave yourself a chance. You were under him from the word go.”

“Better him than you.” you mumble.

“What the fuck did you just say?” he asks, clenching his fist.

“You’re ugly,deaf and stupid? Damn. Somebody really pissed in your gene pool, didn’t they?” you retort and somehow, while you’re feeling feisty enough to do it, you shove him out of your way and you’re running.

Your only goal is to put as much distance as you can between you and Mason Allen. In the process of running away, you collide with Gareth, who was coming around the side of the building from the shop class on the back side. 

“You know I’m right, buddy. You know it, Gare.” Jeff insists. He catches sight of you in a full on blind run and he’s about to nudge Gareth. “Case in point… Do you really think she’d keep seeking you out if she didn’t like you at least a little?”

“We both know what’s going to happen.” Gareth insists, still totally unaware of you, approaching at break-neck speed. He’s looking down at writing covered sneakers. “Just leave it alone, damn it.” he snaps calmly.

“Yeah, I know what’s gonna happen. You’re gonna keep being weird around her til she just leaves you alone. Look, she’s not exactly the most confident… Kinda like somebody else I know.”

And then, it happens.

Gareth glances up to look around, see if he can spot you in the parking lot anywhere and he sees you alright, you’re running straight for him, full-throttle like you’ve got the hounds of hell right behind you.

You collide with him and before he can brace himself and keep you upright, you’re on top of him and his back is against the ground. And he bites back a groan because this is… Not going to help him and the situation he’s in with his little dumb crush on you and he knows it. The way you fell straddling his hips is going to haunt his memory for a long time. Even after you’ve come to your senses and abandoned him and the guys for a chance to be popular.

“C’mon. Run, now.” you’re stumbling over your words as you scramble to pull yourself off of him and trying to pull him off the ground too. Gareth is looking at you with a brow raised, taking in the way you were just running like your life depended on it, the widened panic deer-in-the headlights look on your face, all of it. And he just knows.

Somewhere at the bottom of it all, Mason Allen is involved. The guy’s been sniffing around since your first day. Popping up. Watching you. It’s creepy as hell, it never fails to piss Gareth off and his rants and tangents since this all began and Mason developed his odd fixation on you are nothing short of legendary. It’s just a matter of time until no amount of telling himself this is not his business won’t be enough anymore.

Gareth has been diligently  telling himself that this is not his problem and sooner or later, you will wind up among the popular kids and hell, you might even date Mason at some point, pretty girls always go for his type, don’t they?

But seeing you so freaked out. The shake he felt as it raced through your body when you ran into him, nearly knocked him down just now, it starts to sink in.

You’re actually terrified of the guy. Of a lot of people in general, come to think of it. You disguise it with disdain, disgust and sarcasm but the fact remains. 

And the anger he’s been telling himself he  doesn’t have a right to feel because you’re not his girl, that all comes rushing to the surface real quick.

When this happens, he pretty much decides to hell with running. If the guy scares you this fucking bad, maybe it’s time to put a stop to the him.

Drumsticks and Gareth’s notebooks are shoved at Jeff in haste. “Keep her over here, alright?”

“Gare, wait. There’s fucking three of them, idiot.” Jeff tries to reason but Gareth isn’t listening. He’s probably hit that black out level, the one where he’s not thinking, he’s just angry.

“Keep her over here.” his voice is deathly calm when he turns around to look back at Jeff. 

It hasn’t been this calm since way back in sixth grade, right before he completely messed Jason Carver’s face up. What’s surprising is that everyone seems to have forgotten just how scary an angry Gareth Emerson can actually be since then. He’s calmed down a lot since. He tries so hard to avoid fights. Even to a point where he just let Jason beat him up last year.

Jeff sees you about to make a run for it and go after Gareth but he swings his arm out in front of you. “Oh hell no. You’re not going back over there, alright?”

His tone is firm. You swallow hard and nod.

Eddie makes his way out of the back of the school and as soon as he sees what’s about to go down, he rubs his hand over his face. When he spots Dustin, he whistles to signal him over.

“There’s three of ‘em. Me and Jeff need to go help Gare, alright? Gare told Jeff to keep her,” he glances at you, “over here. You’re gonna do that, alright, Henderson?”

“O-okay.” Dustin nods, a little worried because he doesn’t know what the hell is going on. His gaze settles on you and you’re biting the edge of your thumb, you look freaked out. “What happened?”

“Stupid fuckin Mason. Again. I… I collided into Gareth and tried to get him to run but he stormed over there.”

Dustin grins to himself. 

The way Gareth protests to anyone who will listen in Hellfire about the two of you not being a thing, this is only proving everyone else right.

“I need to go over there. This is my fault. And like.. He’s the only friend I..” you’re upset, you’re scared and you’re disgusted with yourself because this is completely your fault. There is no mistake. You’re about to lose the only friend you really have, all because you were too pathetic to stand up for yourself.

,, This is precisely why no one ever stick around.” the thought comes and it doesn’t help. Not a bit.

“It’s not your fault. I mean if you were egging it on, I’d say I agree but you’re not. Also, he’s not your only friend, okay? I’m your friend too.” Dustin answers quietly.

“It is my fault. If I would have just been brave enough to deck the guy in the first place..” you glance over just in time to see Gareth put his entire body into Mason’s which sends him sprawling back and doesn’t stop Gareth. Not even a little.

Gareth is straddling him now, he’s got him pinned. “You’re gonna leave her alone… Right, Mason?” he asks, snarling the words as he holds onto the front of the other guy’s shirt. Mason is about to flip him but Gareth uses the fact that he’s actually got muscular legs and more strength in them than anyone really seems to realize to his advantage and he grips Mason’s sides, keeping him from flipping them. “You’re always talkin about us… You guys are the creeps. Not us.” he spits when he says it. “Pickin on somebody who can’t do anything because that’s so manly, right?” he lets go of Mason’s shirt and lets him hit the dirt of the schoolyard.

Jeff and Eddie went over to help out, but so far, Gareth has kept the upper hand. Ducking punches thrown, coming up with his own harder ones, a stray punch or two landing with him but he doesn’t seem to notice. 

They’re shocked because the last time Gareth got this angry was all the way back in middle school and it took years for any of the jocks to even consider pissing him off again. Some of them who haven’t forgotten the whole thing still keep a pretty wide berth when it comes to Gareth.

Two of Mason’s buddies act as if they’re going to go help and triple team Gareth but Jeff and Eddie grab hold of them and hold them off with a smirk. “What the hell do you think you’re doing, hm?” Jeff asks, smirking at the one he’s got hold of. Eddie chuckles. “No, no no.. Three on one, that’s not fair, right? You’re gonna stay right here, buddy.” he tells the one he’s grabbed and holding back. “This is gonna happen, bud. Just accept it.”

Gareth happens to look up just as you come running over to try and stop it from getting out of hand and this is what kind of calms him down a little and brings him back to reality. The angry haze begins to clear out and he pulls himself up off of Mason, wiping the back of his hand across his bloodied mouth. “Don’t even look her way again.” is the last thing he tells Mason Allen and Mason waves his hands defensively when he doesn’t answer quick enough and Gareth looks like he’s going to punch him one more time because of it. “Okay, alright. Fuck. I won’t even look at her.” he insists, but at this point it’s as if he’s pleading more than anything, there’s a slight shake to the jock’s voice that has Eddie snickering and Jeff chuckling quietly with amusement.

With the potential that the fight was seen, the jocks scatter away, retreating to the gym. Gareth’s taking deep breaths to calm down. “Dude, you want your emergency inhaler?” Jeff asks when he sees Gareth trying to catch his breath. “Just to be safe, man. I’ll go get it.”

“Yeah.” Gareth answers, panting, digging down into his jeans. He tosses the keys in Jeff’s general direction and Jeff bends down to scoop them up then he takes off towards the truck Gareth drives. You make your way over, wincing and grimacing as you catch sight of the busted lip and the bruise on his cheek.

And you’re conflicted because seeing him get that angry was scary, but on the other hand, if you’d been braver, if you’d stood up for yourself to begin with back around the third day when Mason made this a pattern, it wouldn’t have happened.

You’re worried about him. He could have gotten seriously injured if things had gone just a little differently.

“You didn’t have to do that.” you mumble softly. “I should’ve.. I should’ve done something.”

Gareth shrugs. He really doesn’t say anything. Neither do you.

But you have to do something. You untie the pink silk scarf tied into your ponytail and you step up to him cautiously, holding it out. You wince and you gingerly press the fabric against his mouth. It’s not ice, but it’ll get some of the blood off. 

“Dustin?” you motion the younger boy over.

“Yeah?”

You nod to your own bag discarded on the lawn because it was too heavy and you needed to run fast and get the hell out of dodge minutes ago. “There’s a dollar in the pocket. Go get me something cold out of the vending machine, please?”

“On it.” Dustin makes his way over to the dropped bag and picks it up, finding the money. Then he takes off for the gym.

Gareth’s breathing is back to normal and he’s calming down, but he’s kind of thrown for a loop because you didn’t see everything you just saw and run like hell. Or decide that maybe giving in and just hanging out with them was the better idea.

As it sinks in for him, he’s staring up at you. 

“I can go if you want.” you mumble quietly, your stomach twisting as you say it.

This has to be too much for him. It has to be.

“No. It’s fine.” he mutters quietly.

You nod. Dustin comes running back over with a cold drink and you hold it against Gareth’s lip. “You shouldn’t have done that. I..I should have done something about it myself.”

“Do what, exactly? He would’ve had his friends waiting. That’s how those assholes operate.” Gareth answers quietly. Hissing at the cold against the heat in his busted lip. Trying to cringe away a little because of it, only to have you step a little closer, just enough that he’s slightly towered over you and your body’s just barely grazing his. The cotton candy scent of your perfume gives him something to focus on and he breathes in and out slowly.

“I know, just..” you take a deep breath. “It’s my fault.”

“But it’s not. You didn’t ask the guy to be a fucking creep.” Gareth states quietly.

You shrug. But you don’t say anything because you don’t know what to say. You only know what you feel and  you feel like this is all your fault somehow.

“He didn’t… do anything, right?” Gareth asks, tensing up.

“No, no. No. I ran.” you reassure him. You back the cold drink away from his mouth and grimace, shaking your head.

“Good.” he takes a deep breath or two, relieved. Wincing because his lip is throbbing and he feels like shit after the adrenaline has started to wear down. He’s eyeing the aluminum can in your hand and you pop the tab, holding it out to him. “H-here.”

When he takes it, his fingers brush your hand and for the millionth time, it feels like someone’s just dragged a live wire over him. He takes a sip of the drink and holds it out to you.

You don’t realize how big this is yet. Gareth’s not the one who shares everything easily. The fact that he’s sharing a Dr. Pepper with you right now is definitely a bigger deal than he makes it seem or that you even realize it is just yet.

“Did you drive here?” he asks quietly. You shake your head. “Uh uh. Walked.”

“Do you uh… Do you want a ride home?” he asks quietly.

You nod. If he takes you home, you can at least get him cleaned up a little better.

“Yeah. Only if you don’t mind and it’s no trouble, though.” you stumble over your words. You’re relieved because you know at least two of the jocks happen to live out near the same area as you and you always see them driving past when you’re walking.

Gareth steps closer because something else is starting to sink in. You’re never outright asking for anything nor will you say yes to anything without tacking on “Only if I’m not bothering you” or some variation of it at the end. And he’s starting to realize that really, really bothers him too. Makes him want to find anybody who ever made you feel like you have to make yourself small or whatever it is you’re trying to do and show them how it feels.

And he realizes finally that he can’t just continue on keeping you at an arms length. And he really doesn’t want to, either. Even if all he ever gets is friendship, it’s better than nothing, right?

He decides then and there that yes… yes, it is.

“Hey, Emerson.. We’re going ahead to Grants. Just come by when you get her home.” Jeff calls out and as says it, he nudges Eddie. “Doesn’t have a crush on her my ass, right?”

Eddie laughs, nodding. “Cmon. I gotta stop by Reefer’s on the way.”

– ( an hour later )

“You’re sure this is okay… Right?” you ask him for the third time and Gareth chuckles quietly as he nods. He brings the truck to a stop behind Eddie’s van at the curb of Grant’s house. You’d cleaned out his lip and fussed over the bruise. More than once during the amount of time he was in the house you live in, he got the feeling that you were alone there a lot.

When he asked you about it, you told him your parents were always away with your dad’s work. You acted like it wasn’t a big deal at all but he could tell it bothered you. So, he’d asked again if you wanted to come with him and watch the band practice in Grant’s basement. He’d had to really convince you that it would be fine, that he wasn’t angry about everything that happened in the schoolyard, that no one was, but he managed to and you’d agreed to come back with him. 

After changing of course. And if he thought the little soft sundresses in their varying pastel hues were something of a distraction, he had not prepared himself at all for the sight of you in a pair of shorts and a soft pink sweater that hung off of one shoulder with the sleeves hanging over your hands slightly.

Because he’d damn near forgotten to breathe when he saw you.

Your hair was out of it’s usual ponytail and bow and it was loose, a little wild.

He was still trying to decide which way he liked you better.

Distracted as hell and nearly turned down the wrong damn street when he got to the part of town Grant lived in just because you were sitting in his passenger seat. 

“I’m telling you, it’s fine. C’mon.” he chuckles quietly and you nod. He gets out and makes his way around to help you out of the truck. The two of you make your way into Grant’s basement via the door on the side of the house and Grant’s immediate response is to grin and high five him and say that he wished he hadn’t missed the whole fight.

Gareth shrugs it off.

Eddie smirks and nods to you. “Decided to come with you finally?”

“Yeah.” he answered, glancing back at you where you’re sitting on an old sofa in the corner. He drags his hand through soft,curly hair and shuffles his feet. “Don’t start shit.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, Gare.” Eddie laughs, giving the shorter boy a friendly shove. “C’mon. Let’s play.” he tells the others as he picks up his guitar. You watch as Gareth takes a seat on his stool behind his old drum kit. Scooting forward on the sofa a little more as they cue up a song you haven’t ever heard before, but it’s a little catchy. 

You’re bouncing your foot with the music and smiling.

You feel a little more relaxed for once. Hopeful.

Maybe if nothing else, you can finally make friends again…

But there’s that nagging doubt in your mind too… What if you push him away too somehow? What if he’s not what you’ve got yourself thinking he is and the same shit that happened to you before, in your old school, happens again?

All you can do is see where everything goes. Carefully.

#gareth emerson #gareth the great #gareth emerson imagine #gareth emerson fanfiction #gareth emerson fanfic #gareth emerson x reader #gareth emerson x fem!reader #gareth emerson x fem!reader imagine #gareth emerson x fem!reader fanfiction #// all i can say is.. i uh.. have no clue where this came from + say that this is my own personal interpretation of the character so... yep #// fight #// jocks being jerks #// jocks being creeps #// protective!gareth #// goddamn it my boy deserved his moment to shine so here we are.

[um-prompts]

62 writing prompts based on my songfic playlist!

enjoy!

Featured: kill the lights set it off • choke i don't know how but they found me • cannibal tally hall • feel better penelope scott • ramblings of a lunatic bears in trees • idk if i'm a boy blue foster • asthma attack noahfinnce

"I'm afraid the spotlight dried you up."

"You make me sick with all the lies that you spill."

"Not even death could stand in the way."

"You never even tried in the first place."

"kill the lights, kill the actor, kill the actress."

"I'll break your pretty face."

"Oh, you clever little things."

"What a precious basket case."

"If I could burn this town, I wouldn't hesitate."

"Bite your tongue and choke yourself to sleep."

"You get everything you want."

"Money always talks to the idiot savants."

"I am the willing victim of a cannibal."

"She rips out my bones just like I'm an animal."

"When I'm feeling like my blood is drained, she calls it a game."

"The wound she leaves is unmistakable."

"I'm not the only one she has come to see."

"They could be the ones to make her believe."

"She's a phantom."

"Please, won't you tear me open wide?"

"I don't wanna feel better."

"No one's ever gonna love me like that again."

"I don't wanna get over you."

"I'd give anything to miss you again."

"I know I'll never know just what to say."

"I'm a sad girl in a dorm room."

"Someone loved me, someone fucking loved me."

"I'd give my life to have a room that feels that small."

"I had a right to die, a right to live, a right to choose, too."

"Can you fucking imagine?"

"I wanna rip the stars to shreds."

"I'm a healthy baby girl who traded sunshine for disease."

"I loved someone I barely knew."

"Lost my sense of home from the words that I've said."

"Maybe I'll just descend to dirt."

"Would anyone listen to this, the ramblings of a lunatic?"

"My mind does play an awful trick."

"I'm running from my emptiness."

"My brain is tired, my stomach's sick."

"Why has constructing sentences become like pulling teeth?"

"Is this carcass even me?"

"Is this catharsis, therapeutic plunge to darkness or elaborating upon my mediocrity?"

"Maybe this is a result of me finally accepting that I'll be alone forever."

"I've never felt more comfortable in the concept of things ending."

"Maybe this writer's block that I've been perceiving is to stop me diving deeply into my internal being."

"All my friends are dying, some faster than the others."

"I'm trying to distract myself from the fears that I've discovered."

"I don't know if I'm a boy."

"I know I wanna be called pretty."

"I am something in the middle."

"I don't know if I'm a reject."

"I know that I've been breathing different when I'm wearing makeup."

"Those stupid words served to protect me."

"I cannot figure out these stupid words."

"Now I know that I'm a reject, my own special kind of loser."

"I am the physical embodiment of everything I never wanted to be."

"I am the prime example of indecision."

"What am I supposed to do when I'm so see-through?"

"I had never thought that life would be like this."

"If living was the equivalent of breathing then maybe I should prepare myself for another asthma attack."

"You think I know myself, well you'd be mostly wrong."

"If lying was a crime then I'd be doing time."

#prompt list #but it's prompts i'd actually use #writing prompts #writing prompt #dialogue prompts #angst prompts #dialogue prompt #fluff prompts #prompts #story prompt #angst #fluff #hurt/comfort #sentence starters #sentence starter #music #music prompts #maybe more to come? #my playlist is longer than this so #writeblr #writers on tumblr #list #[ 📝 mine.txt ]

[ireallydontunderstandpeopleatall]

this past monday I took smores to the vet to check his condition of chewing on his back legs and on his butt/ back area.

the vet gave him and allergy shot which fixed him and mentioned for long term care to have moisturizing wash baths and benadryls

vet also took his blood to test his liver values, bc in may 2023 when he went to a diff vet for stomach issues and they tested his blood and saw his liver values were off and they gave him liver vitamins to help support his liver which he has not been taking bc theyre chewables but he has not been taking them bc he does not like them

on wednesday his blood work came back and his liver values are still bad and also his kidneys are showing b.u.n? which i need to give the vet a pee sample

so now vet said to do an ultrasound for smores which will cover his liver and kidneys and if necessary will do a biospy after.

and I'm in disbelief because my baby dog is now sick and idk what is going to happen and not sure how much longer he will be with me

this mid week i was so depressed and stressed out bc of costs

the ultrasound i called about to 2 vet specialists our vet recommended and they have both quoted about $745-$920. which means to get an xray alone is already 1,000 dollars.

I can pay 1 ,000 dollars but what is next? how much will treatment be? i googled liver disease in dogs and one person said they paid 14,000$ just to get a diagnosis. I don't have 14,000 now, nor will I ever have it all at once.

I feel so helpless that I can not do more for my baby, and i dont know what to do, am I just suppose to not get him medical care??

I read posts from the rainbow bridge and people who say things like they wish they could have done more for him/her. i now know what that really means.

I thought about how I only have 4,000 and i just let my mom borrow it because shes fucking irresponsible and needs to pay back her debt. and she wont be paying me back for a while but I didnt think i would need that money rn and how wrong i was.

then my fucking big credit card is maxed out due to my mom's usage also. it would have 5,000 which i could have really used for the ultrasound.

and so i was sitting there flipping through my accounts and looking at my balances like a few thousand dollars was going to magically pop up in them and save me and my dog

i looked at my digit savings and even if i cash over absolutely everything I will have CLOSE to 4,000. not even 4,000 :(

then my paypal credit which i asked for a credit line increase and they gave me 2,000 but it said i do not get an actual card for it and its mainly for online purchases so that doesnt help me at all.

so finally i applied for care credit and luckily was approved for 5,000.

also to note i just bought my tesla and the payments are so high and insurance is through the roof and i will turn over this car if i need to to free up money to set aside for smores treatment so we'll see if it comes down to that. it's my dream car but i can always buy another one later and my baby dog needs me right now

so hopefully care credit is enough for everything and i really hope a biopsy will not be 14,000. if things can stay below 8,000 for everything than that is something that i can reach but if they start quoting me 20k or so I'm afraid i will have to make some tough decisions and start considering end of life services for smores.

I have been thinking about it and if it comes down to me absolutely not being able to afford paying for smores services then i will have to start having a conversation with his vet on what i can do to make sure he is comfortable for the rest of his time :(

this week has been me taking so many pics, spending so much time, making sure he feels loved and looking at him like i will never see him again. i keep thinking of how i dont want to think of what it will be like without him, im not sure i will be able to breathe. he is my soul dog and i love him with all of my heart

I called around to see if i could find a better deal on an ultrasound but it looks like i can't. i also have an option of 2 places and right now I have booked with the "better place " but its 3 weeks out and being that long out also stresses me out and idk

I been putting his liver supplements in his water so he can actually take some of it. I really wish I had been addressing this sooner.

with the death of my aunt who i love so much, stephen who was such a good friend and poor daniel. I just want to try to stay positive bc i jsut dont know what to do or think anymore.

the sudden deaths of my loved ones in such a little time has been so hard on me, I remember after finding out about each one my mind goes to a dark place and my body kind of falls apart for a time and it just feels like it gets weaker with each one. I have questioned my own health and then i get scared of what if

anyways so thats whats going on w smores so far

[vf-thompson]

Book Review: Content Warning: Everything Will Fuck You Up and It Will be Your Fault

It seems odd that i'm sitting down to write a perfect review of a book that has, as far as a book can screw up a life, sent my own careening wildly off track.

My introduction to Emezi was the diabolical little YA spec fic Pet, which was assigned reading in my Transgender Literature class i took a few semesters ago. i was struggling with my academic workload, and admittedly only read pieces of that book, enough know what was going in class discussions, but shelved it to finish later. i did not realize at the time that i had one of the writer's other books in my possession already, a threatening little collection of poems that my best friend had gotten me for my birthday right before beginning the semester.

It sat on my shelf patiently, biding its time, dreaming its sick little dreams, until i needed it.

i can't tell you how the explosion happened, only that it did. Call it a gas leak, maybe. Entropy did as entropy does. i was separated, overnight, from everything smelling and tasting of home, born on Christian hands and pagan winds into the wild to be taught the true ways of the world. Apotheosis knocked for the third time in my heathen life, and this time i let the sonuvab!tch inside at last to make herself at home.

i found myself in a hotel room, on the other side of a bombing, stranded. This book was in my hands, had made it instinctively into my bag as i escaped the slithering fire that consumed my house and my life. i read the title, read the author's name, realized i had heard the name before. i ached for familiarity, and opened the book.

Everything was inside waiting for me inside, as Emezi warned. i blundered into the bloody-berry red thickets of their serpentine prose, joining them in their dirty, dismal trek up the Holy Mountain. i found, immediately, in her words, a kindred spirit, crimson as my own sin-stained soul. i can only be frankly honest: the poems in this collection seemed to resonate with my own life and its events to a degree that is uncanny, almost abject. The second poem, "christening", tore me open, and i understood, feverishly, wrongly: i too could speak the truth.

i took to my notebook, trying to put my frayed and desperate grief into words, grief at my sudden exile from Eden, using Emezi's words as model. i crafted my own imitative poems in the key of confession and launched them into the sky like a rocket, hoping to explain away the pain with meter and meaning. But like our viperous little narrator, the ouroboros sharing their tale with us, i swallowed myself with my own words, burned up in my own stomach acid, vomited myself out somewhere worse than before. My confessions did not cleanse me; they branded me Barabbas. My attempt to reach for the sky left me falling back towards earth, landing in a black muddy river, washing up somewhere by Bethlehem with venom in my eyes. As the book warns at the top, the urge to explain can often only make things worse when you see the world wrong.

It has since taken me five months to finish a book that is 45 pages long. i can't blame the book. It told me its mission on the front cover, warned me as well as a book can. It told me what was waiting inside: Everything, undiluted, unadulterated. This book blew my mind in the worst kind of way, which is of course the best way, which is of course the only way. Books are here to challenge us, to change the way we see. There is nothing comforting or safe about the work here, blowing past trigger warnings in a way that no edged-out Netflix comedian could hope to touch.

If you can handle it, allow Emezi to take a scalpel to your life, as they did mine. Inside you will find ruminations and meditations on what is means to be a pagan, to be spirit, to be of any faith or no faith, to be less than a man and more than a god and to do-se-do around the black heart of a dying, diseased brain. Big thanks to the bitch who bought it for my birthday, who read it and decided i should too. She's never let me down with a recommendation, and i'm happy to say this book continues that trend. It has been a campfire to sit beside in one of the darkest periods of my life, throwing shadows of hope against the wall even as the cave threatens to collapse down on top of us all.

#poetry #book review #poetry review #akwaeke emezi #religion #writing #bookblr #content warning: everything #queer poetry

[aboutagirl4031]

1.I guess I need to revisit this, there’s so much too it and now it doesn’t really matter and for the longest time I had blocked out my memories of everything that happened, but I remembered what happened at the hospital and I was like ?? Why is this all coming up now?

As sick as this makes me and as much as it makes me spiral I think I need to write it out. June, that event occurred. It was pain, it was sorrow, it’s was a kind of empty feeling, I lost myself, I didn’t like myself, I blamed myself, I had no dignity and I felt so lost. Why was my life now? … PTSD, the nightmares still happen but not as frequent, certain cologne still triggers me and I still and always will have a deep distrust with men. I haven’t talked about it really with anyone, nobody knows this side of the white cloth and what happened in the aftermath. The details. The stuff that makes me throw up when I think about it, makes my chest ache and my stomach burn. What happened was real and I know that now.

At first I was ashamed and didn’t tell anyone and well I convinced myself it wasn’t that bad, I blamed myself…when I finally told my parent I was met with her anger and silence..it wasn’t the reaction and support I was looking for. I know she was justifiably angry but what I needed was love, support and reassurance. I felt even worse and it was so awkward because she didn’t even know what to say, I watched her cry harder than I did. That’s when I felt her pull away from me more and to this day I don’t know why she pushed me away further after She knew what had happened. It took me nearly two week to tell her and this is what I was faced with.. well since I was a minor she had to call and schedule me an appointment and come with me to consent to medical treatment, I could tell it traumatized her and well fuck how did she think I fucking felt, it was like an inconvenience for her to haft to go up there and be a fucking parent to me, she made it about herself. Not once did she ever ask me how I felt. I got the appointment, June 19. That afternoon, I don’t really remember when I woke up or when I got ready or when we drove there I just remembered when I had to take off my pants and underwear for my exam at the hospital, since it was 10 days she still did a kit. I remember the cold of the room and the numb feeling I had in my body, I felt humiliated all over again and I had never had a vaginal exam before so this was my first “scoot your self to the edge while the tissue cloth draped across my legs and try to relax for when the doctor inserts the speculum moment.” My vagina was still so inflamed and swollen. She couldn’t even put the speculum in, she had it at the entrance and when she slowly started it was like there was no way it could be inserted because my vagina was that bad. I think I immediately cried but at this point I was regressing back into myself and disassociating, she didn’t even haft to ask me if it hurt or if she should stop, she automatically put it away and held my hand. I fucking hated that moment, because I wanted my moms comfort and the only person who gave me love was the lady doctor doing my rape kit. She took what she got from that and proceeded to make her notes and start a treatment plan, they drew my blood for tests and collected my urine for more tests. I think I got a full panel and a pregnancy test. I don’t remember much of the conversation I had with her but she was already briefed and educated on what I needed as I accepted what I haft to do to protect myself and my heath for the rest of my life. Since it was unprotected and he also forced himself into my rectum she ordered those 8 big pills of antibiotics and I had to take them that day incase of HIV or any other Venereal disease, this was my first time hearing about any of this, the STDs, the medicine, what it does and how it works..it was so much to take in.. but I had to take it all there that day so if I had anything it would prevent it from going any further and get rid of any std I could have possibly contracted. So she got me a cup of water and I sat there for almost 20 minutes taking each pill and drinking water. I feel my bitterness and resentment growing in that moment. See the thing was, I was a virgin and that was also the first time I had “penetrative sex” …my “first” was rape. It was disgusting the amount of pain I had emotionally and physically, I remember I couldn’t even sit down fully. My mom even felt bad because she hit a bump on our way back home. But my numbness quickly turned into more anger as she had to ask me all the questions to properly treat me that day…see I don’t know if he came in me or not but I remember that my underwear were full of a substance that had dried and stuck to my pubes… but i wasn’t showing any signs but obviously it would have been way too early so we tracked my period and she made the decision to give me those other pills anyway, a morning after pill. She said I know it’s a lot of pills but just in case…she knew I wasn’t gonna have a conversation about me accepting the fact that I could have.

[wetookeachothershand]

Flower Petals

Pairing: Haitani Ran x GN!Reader

Genre: Angst

Warnings: Alcohol, ambiguous ending, character death, swearing, throwing up

W/C: 1k+

Summary: Both you and Ran have unrequited feelings for the people you love, and those feelings soon manifest into the Hanahaki Disease.

Additional: My very first Ran piece and it's angst. I'm sorry Ran fans for making the first thing of your precious boy on my account be sad. Also I wrote this in about 20 minutes, so I can't guarantee it'll be a great work of mine.

Ultimate Masterlist | Ran Masterlist

~Your P.O.V.~

"Hey, random question,",Ran said as he sat next to me on his couch as we watched a movie he's been wanting to watch.

"What is it?",I asked, not taking my eyes off the screen.

"You ever been in love with someone who's in love with someone else?"

My brows furrowed as I looked over at Ran. I thought I would see a playful look on his face, like he was about to say "forget what I said" but instead he had a serious expression on. "I have. Why do you ask?"

"It hurts, doesn't it?"

"Are you going through a heartbreak or something?"

He let out a laugh. "Me? The great Haitani Ran? Never. I'm the one breaking hearts, not getting my heartbroken."

I smiled, feeling a cough trying to come out. "Yeah, I guess that's true,",I said and turned away from him to cough into my hand. I looked at my hand and saw multiple flower petals with blood spots on them. 'Fuck.'

~a few weeks later~

"They're together! It fucking hurts!",Ran said as he downed another shot.

"What the hell are you talking about?",I asked as I sat next to him in a bar he owned.

"My brother and the person I love. They're together, and it feels like I'm dying."

My eyes softened. "I could imagine. Drink to your heart's content, heartbreaks suck,",I said and downed a shot.

"What, you like my brother too? Like the person he's with does? Is that why you know heartbreaks suck?",he asked.

"No, not him,",I said softly. "Never him."

~♡~

"I drank way too much,",Ran said as he threw up into the toilet.

I held his hair back, rubbing his back.

"'Blame you. Told me to drink to my heart's content. What garbage advice,",he said before continuing to empty his stomach.

"Sorry,",I said with a light laugh.

"What the fuck?",I heard Ran say.

I looked and saw that he threw up some flower petals. "Ran..."

"Don't say anything to anyone. This stays between us,",he said before flushing the toilet.

I nodded. "Okay."

~some time later~

I tried calling Ran to see how he was doing after the announcement that his brother and his lover were engaged. Unfortunately, Ran didn't reply to any of my calls or texts.

I decided to call Rindou to see if he'd know where his brother was. After a few rings Rindou picked up the phone.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Rindou. Have you talked to Ran recently?"

"No, I haven't, why?"

"He's not responding to any of my messages or calls."

"You worried about the person you love?",he teased.

"Of course I am."

"Maybe you both could get together and get engaged next,",Rindou continued to tease me.

"I regret telling you I have a crush on your brother."

"I'm joking. He's most likely at home, he's been looking kinda sick lately at the meetings."

"I'll go check up on him. Thanks for telling me, Rindou. Oh and congrats again on your and your lover's engagement. I wish you both the best."

"Thanks, (Y/n). I'll talk to you later."

I smiled bitterly as I thought of all the flower petals I coughed up. "Yeah, talk to you later."

~♡~

"Please, Ran. Please be ok,",I said to myself as I got out of my car. I went into Ran's house and saw him lying on the ground. He stared up at the ceiling, a dazed look to his eyes. "Look at you, "the great Haitani Ran" has grown so weak. All because the person he likes won't return his feelings,",I said as I stood over him.

"Do you think that maybe they're just messing with me, and they really do like me?",he asked with a desperate smile.

"If you think that, you're more naive than me,",I said as I knelt down, bringing his head onto my lap.

"It hurts. I hate to admit it, but it hurts,",Ran said before coughing out more flower petals.

I moved all the flowers onto the ground, wiping his mouth. "It does. Coughing out flower petals hurts a lot,",I said as I looked down at him sadly. I coughed into my hand when Ran spoke up.

"How would you know?",he asked curiously.

I moved my hand, letting all the flower petals I coughed out fall onto him.

"Who...?",he asked, confused as to how I have the same horrible disease as him.

I leaned down, bringing his face closer to me by holding the back of his neck. I kissed him softly, before pulling away. "Who do you think, Ran?",I asked him as I opened my eyes again to look into his.

He softly smiled. "Why did I have to fall for my own brother's lover when I could've fallen for you instead?"

"I ask myself that everyday,",I said as tears started brimming my eyes.

"Hey, can you tell Rindou something for me?",he asked as he tilted his head back to look at something. I looked at what he was looking at and saw a photo of him and Rindou when they were younger. They had the most precious smile on their faces, kids who hadn't been tainted by the cruel world yet.

"What is it?",I asked as I looked back at him.

"Tell Rindou that he no longer has to be in my shadow anymore, and that I'll always be his older brother."

"Anything else?"

"That-That I-I,",for the first time I heard Haitani Ran stutter. "I love him, and that I'm sorry for leaving so soon."

My tears now flowed endlessly. "Yeah, yeah I'll tell him."

"Thanks. Don't cry over me, I always hated seeing you cry."

"It's your fault I'm crying,",I said as I shook my head.

"I'm glad to be leaving in your arms, (Y/n)."

I opened my eyes to look down at Ran and saw he had a glazed over look in his eyes. "Ran. This isn't funny. Ran. Ran!",I yelled his name as I shook his body. "Ran,",I cried onto his chest. My whole body was shaking as the tears never stopped. "Ran please wake up. Rindou needs you. I need you. Ran, please. I'm begging you. Don't leave us. You can't."

He remained unmoving, not a single breath coming out of him.

"Goodnight, Ran,",I said as I closed his eyes. I felt my own eyes growing heavy. "I'm sorry, but I don't think I'll be able to tell Rindou what you wanted me to tell him." I could've sworn I heard Ran's front door open and a voice yell mine and Ran's name, but I let out my last breath before being able to see who it was.

Tag List

All rights are reserved to wetookeachothershand. Do not plagiarize, repost, translate, or claim my work~ ♡

#ran haitani #ran haitani x reader #ran haitani angst #ran x reader #ran x reader angst #tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers angst #wetookeachothershand

[stardustedknuckles]

kisses on head, Molly to Beau?

I have been waiting all day to finish work so I could write this lil snippet. I'm writing it from my ask box so I don't get carried away...

...and it's been 75 minutes so god knows what happened. 500 words at a guess, weird itch to continue, mention of stomach troubles but nothing explicit. Also you get bonus b/y head kiss because it was there and I could. ^__^

AU where Molly did come back, post-canon.

Beau barely protests when Molly tucks the blanket around her like she's three, and that's how he knows it's serious. He steps back to frown at her clammy, pale skin and eyebags he doesn't need dark vision to see from across the darkened room. "You're really down for the count, huh?"

Cross-legged in the middle of the pile of furs she shares with Yasha, Beau glares at him halfheartedly. "I'm only putting up with you because it makes Yasha feel better, you know."

Oh. It's not a halfhearted glare he's seeing. She's just that sick. "Same goes for me dear," he says breezily. "Aren't you supposed to be godly amounts of healthy all the time or something? I didn't get the sense Yasha was exaggerating that. Jester definitely was, though."

"This isn't poison or disease, dipshit." Her wet sniff undercuts a little of her words - not that he needs it. "S'just a stomach bug. Nobody's immune."

"Mmm." Molly's ears perk as the steam from the kettle in the next room begins to change pitch. He can get to it before it starts to whistle, but whether he will or not...eh, fine. Just for today. "Keep telling yourself that," he says, and flicks her ear with his tail as he exits. Beau barely flinches, just shakes her head like he's a fly and blinks hard at the sudden movement.

Okay, he gets why Yasha called him in for babysitting. He's allowed to be annoyed - encouraged, even, when it's Beau - but maybe it's nice now and then to have his patience tested. It's not a concept he's wholly familiar with just yet. Patience is for people who know they have time, and whatever makes Molly Molly historically has been made of time borrowed and never assumed. But something's changed - the time ticking in him is his now, properly. If the Nein have their way, he'll be godsdamned immortal.

Molly traces a finger down the long-healed scar bisecting his torso under his open shirt and watches the tea pour into the cup. They have a habit, he thinks, of getting their way.

"Lemongrass," he declares at the doorway. "Delivery to one Beauregard Lionett, Den of Sickness, Rexxentrum. I added ginger. Settles stomachs. I think. I hope."

Beau sips, and the face she makes is a heartbeat too late to be convincing. "Nobody fucking asked for ginger."

"Yes, well." Molly leans down to kiss the top of her head and grins when that does get him a proper glare. "When you're the one cleaning the bucket, you can have what you want."

"Tyrant."

It's only a low blow if it applies to him, and he appreciates the emphasis they all have on the distinction between him and Lucien more than he cares to admit - especially to her. "I think you'll find that's dictator, actually, emphasis on dick."

Beau looks for a tenth of a second like her old self, and then whatever she'd planned to say cuts off in a heave and Molly just sighs as he plucks the cup from Beau's hand and out of harm's way. "Not that much emphasis." He ducks at the flick of her wrist, but not quickly enough. "Ow," he protests, rubbing the base of his horn. "Where were you even keeping a ball bearing?"

Beau flips him off, breathing heavily over the bucket, but she doesn't lean away when he reaches to push her sweaty hair back behind her ear. "Scoot up a little when you can for me, hmm? We are just playing with fire here and I've been meaning to see if I remember how to braid anyway."

Beau just nods, and after another ten seconds of tense silence pulls herself forward enough to where Molly can perch behind her and get to work. Her neck is scorching, the noise she makes when he presses his palm over that green eye vaguely obscene in its relief. "Hair can wait," she croaks. "Please gods don't move."

Molly says nothing, just keeps his hand in place and carefully reaches around to offer the tea again with the other.

"Thanks." It's quiet after that, windows dimmed by furs that stir now and then with the cool spring air coming from outside and brightening and dimming by degrees. "I'm glad you're not dead," says Beau, long after the cup has been drained and the blanket discarded.

"Oh, hush."

"I'm serious."

"I know. You also provide the invaluable service of making me regularly question the merits of being alive and stuck with you people. The perspective's nice. Don't go changing it up on me now."

Beau huffs. "Whatever."

"That's more like it, thank you."

She doesn't reply, and when he leans over to catch a glimpse of her face it's to find her eyes closed and her chin starting to droop towards her chest. Bout time. She'd been up most of the night, Yasha had said, and they're well into the afternoon. Molly sighs and pulls her gently towards him with his other arm until her head rests against his shoulder. "She'll kill me if she comes home to so much as a crick in your neck," he says when Beau opens one skeptical eye. "Go to sleep."

And that's how Yasha finds them an hour later, Molly asleep with his back against the wall and Beau sacked out against him. Neither of them stir as she takes a moment just to bask all over again in the warmth of them, the spaces they occupy in her heart individually and together. She leans down to kiss the both on the crowns of their heads and smiles when Beau's eyes flutter open to squint up at her.

"Go back to sleep," Yasha whispers. "I'll be here when you wake up."

Beau makes a noise that's probably a full word in her head and slips gratefully back into sleep, and Yasha spends one more long second drinking them in before she stands and slips quietly out of the room, smiling softly.

#flash fic #ask game #mollymauk tealeaf #beauregard lionett #beauyasha #yasha #She's pissy at him for reasons that would take a full fic to get into #Prompt fill

[samstree]

Hug a Witcher Day (3/4)

In which Jaskier goes missing in the spring. Can Geralt finally realize his feelings for the bard in the middle of a crisis?

(hurt/comfort, soft geraskier, 3k, rated T, cw: mentions of a canon-era plague, sick children, and a citywide lockdown.)

part 1, part 2, read on AO3

The third year since Jaskier invented Hug a Witcher Day, Geralt all but forgets about it completely.

He steps into the Two Weatherfish, where they agreed to meet, and realizes that the bard isn’t here. Or in the entire city of Ard Carraigh. No one has seen any trace of the famous bard who won’t quit singing praises for witchers.

Geralt pushes down the slight panic in his chest as he steps out of the last tavern in the city, and decides to just head for Oxenfurt.

It’s not like Jaskier has been the most reliable companion in the past, often distracted by dalliances or even anything shiny and new. One time he wandered off to watch a local celebration and Geralt found him hours later next to a lake, with thousands of lanterns floating above the water, illuminating the night sky like burning stars peppered on a dark canvas.

The soft, orange light spilled over Jaskier’s features, his eyes gleaming like the stars too.

Geralt snorts despite himself. There’s no doubt the bard is just delayed by someone who caught his eye and decided that a promise to a witcher isn’t all that important—the same witcher who he keeps claiming to be his best friend.

Geralt isn’t sure how to feel about that, or how to react when he finally sees Jaskier. Perhaps he will cease to talk about hunts for a while, leave the bard hanging, just so he can get a taste of the same frustration.

The pettiness remains in Geralt’s mind up until he steps into the academy and rampant fear licks up his chest.

Essi is the one who meets him at the gates, worry deep between her brows and rambling about how Jaskier never made it to the yule ball like he should. In her hands are two letters, clearly Jaskier’s handiwork judging from the neat curves and flourish, talking about his excitement to see his ‘Little Eye’ perform again, and how unfortunately his travel would be delayed due to an unexpected ailment.

Don’t you fret, poppet, for I am sure to beat this sickness within days. The promise of listening to your new ballad is already doing wonders for my health! It is a shame that my stay in Vizima is soured thus. The city, so beautifully rich in culture…

“Vizima,” Essi says frantically. “A plague broke out in the city last winter. Smallpox.”

A buzz begins to ring by Geralt’s ear, muffling out Essi’s voice and leaving only the thundering of his own heartbeat.

“They told me King Foltest sealed the gate to stop the spread, and…and no one has heard from anyone inside since then. Geralt, please, you are a witcher. Aren’t you immune to human sickness? That’s what Jaskier told me, isn’t that right?”

“I…yes.” The lump in Geralt’s throat stops any other words from getting out. His blood runs cold in the warm breeze of Oxenfurt’s spring.

“Please, Geralt, you must find him. I need to know. The university won’t allow me to go, but I…I must know. No matter what happened to him.”

The implication hangs in the air.

Tears well up in blues eyes too similar to Jaskier’s. Essi would be my sister in another life, Jaskier once commented adoringly and it’s only standing right here that Geralt can truly see the identical fierceness in her eyes.

As if Geralt needs her to ask. As if he isn’t willing to charge into the land of the dead if it means Jaskier gets out of it unscathed.

“Of course, Essi,” he promises solemnly. Her clutch on his forearm is so tight that any other man would be bruised by the force. “I promise.”

“Keep him safe, if it’s not too late.”

In his near-century long life, Geralt has rarely felt cold, unrelenting fear as he does when Essi breaks into sobs.

 *

The sickness in Vizima casts a gloomy cloud over the sky, choking Geralt’s breaths. The streets are eerily empty. Only a few people will pass through in a frenzy every now and then.

Geralt’s legs take him right through the main streets, to the far corner of the city, where countless makeshift tents are set up and stretching towards the edge of the woods. If anyone has indeed fallen to the disease, that’s the most likely place they will be sent to. If anyone passes, that’s also where they keep the records so friends and families can look for their names.

Bile rises in his throat at the idea of looking through stacks of books for Jaskier’s name.

Geralt walks between hundreds of beds of one tent after another. Some healers throw him an odd look but carry on with their work, the flash of their white scrubs weaving through the busy establishment.

Against all odds, a pang of relief hits Geralt when he notices how the patients are well-treated by healers who seem to know what they are doing. The fever is brought down with a soaked cloth and a minty salve is applied for the irritation on the skin.

He searches and searches, until the sun is almost down, when—

A soft tune is carried over by the gentle breeze of spring.

And there Jaskier is, kneeling next to a little boy on a bed and humming a lullaby that Geralt only remembers vaguely. The bard is wearing the same white scrub like every carer at this camp, his brown hair slightly ruffled, and dark circles are hanging under his eyes. Geralt can see how tired he is by the hunch of his shoulders and the barely-there quiver in his singing, by his unkept stubble and the smile that’s dangerously close to falling.

And yet, he makes the most beautiful sight in the world.

Geralt stands there, drinking in the presence of his bard. The languid heartbeat of a witcher picks up, fluttering and almost bursting out of his chest.

Jaskier runs his fingers through the boy’s hair when the lullaby comes to an end. He tucks in the blanket and slowly pulls himself up, his knees creaking from the strain.

Blue eyes meet Geralt and Jaskier’s shock morphs into unbridled, blazing joy. Within the blink of an eye, the bard is standing right in front of Geralt.

“Geralt,” Jaskier breathes oh so carefully like he’s scared of waking from a dream. “What are you doing here? Wait, you don’t have any protec—oh right! Witcher biology. Can’t catch anything from us.” The bard lets out a sigh and his shoulders drop in relief. “How did you get through the gate? Punched another guard, didn’t—”

“You are okay,” Geralt says, dumbly.

“I am. Why wouldn’t I be?” Jaskier frowns. “Geralt, why did you come to Vizima in the middle of a plague? Not that I’m complaining about seeing you, but how exactly did you find me?”

Geralt doesn’t want to look away from Jaskier’s face—ideally for a long time to come, but he needs to rummage through his pack for the crumpled letters.

“You sent these to Essi last winter.”

Jaskier takes the letters, flattens the frayed edges before reading his own words.

“Yes, I did tell her…” Cold horror takes Jaskier aback. “Shit. She must think—Oh, Geralt, that wasn’t it! I only caught a stomach bug. It was never the pox! But then…they locked the city gate so fast and everything was in chaos for weeks. I couldn’t get more letters out. Oh, I wish I could take it back! I didn’t think—”

“You damn well didn’t.”

The words come out a lot harsher than Geralt intended, and Jaskier flinches back. Geralt pinches at the bridge of his nose, feeling contrite at his untimely outburst.

“No, Jask—I’m not…” he heaves out a sigh. “She didn’t even know if you were alive for months.”

Neither did I.

“I’m so sorry.” Jaskier is close to tears. “She must be worried sick.”

“She is.”

I was.

“And you too, Geralt. Please forgive me.” Jaskier’s chin wobbles, his arms hovering between the two of them as if he wants to put them around Geralt. “I want to ask you not to be cross with me again, but that seems to be all I do.”

“Jaskier…”

Geralt calls out when he finds not even an ounce of anger in his heart, not when he just spent weeks fearing the worst, not when Jaskier is standing right in front of him, safe and hale, his eyes flowing with guilt.

Jaskier might just be the death of him.

“Fuck. Just don’t pull this again.” Geralt softens his tone, knowing how unfair the request is when such things are out of Jaskier’s control, but the bard replies in earnest.

“I won’t. I swear.”

Exhaustion washes over the bard once again, making him look a lot older than he is. From the looks of it, Jaskier has been working in these camps for months and the last thing he needs is an unsupportive friend.

And Geralt doesn’t intend to become one.

“And you are dressed like this because?” Geralt nudges Jaskier in the shoulder to ease the apprehension on his face.

“Funny you should ask.” The bard presses his lips into a thin line before continuing. “I may have lied—nay, implied—that the seven degrees I acquired at Oxenfurt included…medicine. Hold on! Before you judge, I do know how to care for pox patients. I caught it as a child too and that’s why I’ve been fine this whole time.”

“Hmm. But you don’t have the—”

“The scars. No thanks to my grandmother’s secret healing salve that she insisted on keeping secret. It worked like a charm back then, almost like magic. We’ve been trying to replicate from whatever I remember. The mint is helping a little but something is still missing. Oh, well.” The bard rubs his fingers at the hem of his scrub. “Perhaps that explains all these crazy rumors about her heritage, with all her herbs and teas that always miraculously cured everybody. Honestly, I don’t even blame them.”

Geralt muses the possibility of Jaskier’s grandmother not being completely human and makes a silent decision to unpack it later.

“Then I guess your personal experience should come in handy if we are going to stay here for a while.”

“We? You are staying?”

“The exits are still closed.” Geralt tilts his head in nonchalance. “Might as well lend them a hand.”

And never take his eyes off of Jaskier again.

“That’s…wonderful, in a terrible, terrible way. Being trapped in the same place during a plague. Gods, that sounds like something out of the cheesiest romance novel.” Jaskier gasps as soon as the words are out. The smile on his face blossoms into a heated blush.

“Just promise me one thing, Jask.”

“What?” The cornflower blue eyes uncharacteristically avoid Geralt in a vain attempt to hide how flustered he is.

Don’t scare me like this again.

Don’t get taken from me.

Don’t leave me.

“Read less romance novels. Once this blows over,” Geralt answers, finally.

The fluttering in his chest returns, although this time for a completely different reason. The reason not being how adorable Jaskier looks embarrassed and rosy-cheeked.

No. Definitely not.

 *

“Little Simon asleep?”

Geralt asks as he stokes the fire, watching Jaskier struggle out of the sweat-soaked scrub and throw it into the laundry pile. The bard sits down next to him on the log with a groan and leans into his arm.

“As flattered as I am that he can’t fall asleep without my songs, it does get a bit taxing to sing every night while kneeling on the floor.”

“The kid is sick. Can’t blame him for having bad taste in music.”

The jab would have landed better if he isn’t wrapping his arm around Jaskier so that he can rest his head on Geralt’s shoulder. The days are too long even with most of the patients released home, and it’s been taking a toll on Jaskier.

“Cruel to me when I’m down, huh?”

Under Geralt’s palm, it’s unmistakable that Jaskier’s arm isn’t as thick as it once was, and he really doesn’t want to think about how the sharp of Jaskier’s jaw is becoming more prominent by the day.

Geralt rubs gently up and down Jaskier’s bicep to draw a contented purr out of him.

“Hmm. Now you’re forgiven.” Jaskier nuzzles into the crook of Geralt’s neck so his muscles loosen under the ministration. “It’s so unfair that a shift never wears you out like the rest of us, my dear. So unfair that you don’t need as much food too. I’d kill for some witcher superpowers these days.”

“Trust me, you won’t like what they cost.”

The late summer heat, mixed with the smell of sweat in Jaskier’s hair, should make it extremely uncomfortable to be sitting so close, but Geralt only finds it calming to have Jaskier sagging against him.

Jaskier’s thinning shoulder is too worrisome. Geralt will have to leave him most of the dinner rations again. Excuses are so easy to find, once Geralt realized that Jaskier never questions what he’s told about witcher biology, trusting every word from Geralt’s mouth. It’s just a little lie, a little exaggeration.

The bard is rubbing off on him.

“Simon is among the last ones here,” Jaskier says tiredly into Geralt’s neck. “It will soon be over. They are saying everyone can go in a month or so.”

“We can go even now.”

The prospect of traveling again stirs up something hopeful under Geralt’s skin, prickling with excitement, but he knows more patience is required for now.

“Nah, I should at least see little Simon home. You were right that the boy has suffered enough. The fever is terrible. Even I still have nightmares about it after so many years. It’s excruciating, almost like death is trying to mock you. One moment a fire burns through your whole body, the next it swallows you whole into this…nothingness, cold and alone.”

Geralt tightens his hold and breathes in the melancholic scent emanating from Jaskier’s skin.

“It was my grandmother, again. She sang the same lullaby to me every night, kept me sane. It’s helping little Simon too.”

“It’s in elvish,” Geralt murmurs absently when Jaskier is close to drifting off. The bard’s leveled breathing fans over the collar of Geralt’s neck.

“…hmm?”

“Nothing. Maybe for later.”

Geralt’s fingers reach the side of Jaskier’s head and thread between the soft brown locks, keeping his drooping head in place for the nap. When he looks down to where Jaskier casually drapes over half of his body, the two of them almost melding into one, Geralt is suddenly hit with how much their relationship has changed over the past few years, and at the same time, how it feels completely natural like puzzles fitting into place.

This newfound intimacy should scare Geralt, but strangely, it doesn’t. Maybe it’s because the witcher has learned long ago to treasure his bard as a companion and friend, to protect him and care for him, even without ever admitting it out loud.

Maybe he should.

And what would he even say? Geralt is equally elated and stumped at the thought of the two of them growing into something more. If the fluttering in his chest is a result of loving Jaskier, the bard deserves to know, and he deserves the best words.

Geralt scoffs softly when he realizes that he’d kill for something completely opposite. Not the strength of a witcher, but the silver tongue of a bard, the ability to weave the most beautiful prose to describe what Jaskier means to him.

The summer cicadas are singing with renewed vigor, the sizzling sound disrupting his train of thought. For now, Geralt will need to content himself in simply being with Jaskier.

And, perhaps, in pressing a tiny kiss into his soft brown hair as well. Under the night sky, only the stars will know.

--

I didn't know plague doctor Jaskier could be a thing until I started writing this chapter, and the ending just had to make way for it. Sorry that the chapter count has gone up. I promise hugs are cuddles are on the way!  <3

Tagging: @wanderlust-t @rockysstupidity @flowercrown-bard @alllthequeenshorses @mothmanismyuncle @percy-jackson-is-sexy- @constantlytiredpigeon @behonesthowsmysinging @birdsflyhome @dapandapod @artisanbaguette

Please feel free to tell me if you want to be removed or added to the list <3

#geraskier #geraskier fic #geralt x jaskier #soft geralt #hug a witcher day #soft jaskier #cw: plague #guess this should be a warning #protective geralt #essi daven #jaskier sings to children

[its-kall-the-clown]

14 Fluff for Red Son realizing he's nursing a crush on MK

As some context this is post redemption for the demon bull family. So Mei, MK, and Red hang out a lot together now. Red Son is also an idiot. XD

Also this isn’t my most polished work so sorry if it feels rushed.

prompt list

Stop that!! (Don't stop)

Rating: PG-13 for implied sexual interactions

"I think I'm sick"

Red Son admits to the ceiling of Mei's room. They were hanging out like they normally did on days MK was training with monkey king. She was playing some sort of retro video game and he was watching till he got bored and lay on her bed thinking.

"You got a tummy ache?" Mei teased, pausing her game and he huffs rolling his eyes, and sits up.

"Don't be ridiculous" he huffs out and crosses his arms over his chest.

"Okayyyy so what're the symptoms." Mei crawls from her spot on the floor and joins him in bed, sitting crisscrossed with her hand in her lap, and leaning forward eagerly.

"It's hard to explain… sometimes when MK is gone my chest hurts " he places a hand over his heart that was beating normally at the moment.

"And sometimes, when he's around, my hands get sweaty and it feels like I'm gonna throw up and…." He watches a wide unlearning Cheshire grin grow across his friend's face. He continues on, albeit, a bit more hesitantly.

"And….sometimes I can't talk right, and sometimes when he IS around my chest hurts also?" Mei was grinning so wide she was more teeth than she was girl.

"Why are you smiling…."

"OMFG!!?? You have a crush on Mk?!!!" She squeaks excitedly and rolls around in her back as she descends into what Red can only describe as absolute madness.

"What are you talking about??!" He sputters, Mei giggles a bit longer before finally pulling together and greeting him with a wide grin.

"Dude. Your like SO gay for him. 'My HeARt hUrTs WhEn hE’s not arOuNdddd~ " she mocks him in a fake tone and he growls hitting her with a pillow..

"Stop that!" He growls.

"SToP ThAt~" she mocks back and they devolve into a pillow fight on her bed. He girns when he hits her smug face squarely with a dragon stuffie.

Soon they lay panting on her bed and the dragon girl rolls onto her stomach poking him in the face.

"So. Crushing in MK huh?"

He grows beat red again and pulls a pillow into his face and groans.

"You should tell him."

Red son sits up with a smile.

"I should!"

"Yes!!"

"So I can tell him to stop making me sick!"

"Say what now?"

He turns to Mei with a feral smile. This 'crush' or whatever she called it could be fixed. If MK was the one giving it to him. He just needed MK to stop doing...whatever he was doing to make him feel like this.

"Hold on I think you are conf-"

"Thanks Mei!" He gets up and is off to confront the noodle boy as he hears Mei shout at him from her room.

"You're a fucking idiot!!!"

-----------

He storms forward like a typhoon. Red son is a force of nature that can not be stopped, nothing could yield him in his goal or hinder him in his path. Wild horses pulling chariots could not stop him, celestials in heaven would not dare stand in his way, and even his parents (by far the scariest force of all) could not persuade him to rethink what he was doing.

He pushes past the doors to Pigsy's noodles, shoves past patrons and ignores the warning shouts from the pigman.

he had one goal on mind

"Nyyyooodle boy!!!!!!" He bellows grabbing the attention to his problem. Those perfect expression color eyes meet him and the disease in his chest grows. He's in his training clothes, clearly on his way up to his apartment over the shop so he can shower.

Why did the idea of MK showering make his heartbeat erratically? Soft shoulders and cascading water off them…

She shakes his head back and forth now back on track.

"Stop. That." He growls out grinding his teeth together as steam leaves his ears. MK tilts his head slightly. The disease grows more in his chest and he hates it.

"Stop that!!!!" He points directly at MK feeling his hair sputter and spark as his temperature rises. He thinks his face is growing red.

"I'm….not doing anything?" MK gives him a sheepish smile, the kind that quirks up on one side and absolutely obliterates Red Son on the spot.

Like a crunchy fall leaf under the heel of a boot he's crushed.

Whatever motivation he had before it evaporates quicker than a drop of water in the Sahara desert.

"Y-your haven't heard the last of me!!" He makes a quick retreat, stumbling over his own feet and taking out one of Pigsy's tables in the process.

He exits the shop faster than he entered. He needed to regroup and strategize.

-----------

"SoooOOOOOo How'd it go?" Mei asked her eyes not leaving the screen, she's playing a different video game now, and she didn't even spare him a glance when he came back as if she predicted he would fail.

"Horrible!!! All it did was make this sickness worse." He throws his arms up and paces back and forth biting his lip. Mei doesn't pause her game this time, only continuing to mash buttons as he grumbles under his breath.

She lets out A long-suffering sigh and finally pauses her game.

"Dude. I know you're behind on the lingo and stuff but a 'crush' isn't a sickness. It means you like MK. As in you want to kiss him and stuff." she explains with a shrug unpausing her game and the sound of power-ups and pixelated men punching each other continues.

Red Son halts in his tracks

He pictures kissing MK. pressing his lips to the boy's soft adorable lips. He can practically feel the warmth it would produce. He pictures MK smiling into the kiss as they awkwardly bump noses. He pictures holding MK’s hand, squeezing it gently as they walk hand and hand. He imagines the feeling of MK’s hair between his fingers as he runs his hands through it.

He sucks in a gasp, his heart beating out of time.

Of fuck.

“I’m so screwed…..”

He feels Mei patting his shoulder, she paused her game again when he was fantasizing

“Yeah, you are. But at least now you can DO something about it.” she nudges his side and he blushes a bright red and he can hear her chuckling at him

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

“Can we talk?”

MK blinks back at him looking back and forth for a moment as if he was confused by his precence. Which to be fair he DID just enter through MK’s window while he was showering and was now waiting for him on his bed.

“Uhhhhh sure?” they rub the last remaining moisture from his hair with a towel before tossing it to the floor to be added to piles of laundry they had yet to do. Red Son didn't even curl his lip up at the slob-like behavior because HOLY SHIT MK IS SHIRTLESS!!!

Of course, MK didn't even seem to care that he was only wearing grey sweatpants in his presence. Red Son guilty looked MK’s chest up and down while they searched for a sleep shirt. Working out with Monkey King has been paying off because MK was sporting some muscle. He also had a few scars from battles that only added to how attractive he was, and of course, there were the two faint top surgery scars under his pecks.

“Is this about your weird episode in the shop today?” they asked pulling him from his guilt ogling and MK pulled a shirt over his body. Damn what a shame.

“Mei says I have something called a ‘crush’ and I should ‘tell them how I feel’ in order to make the pain in my chest go away,” he explained using quotation marks with his fingers to punctuate himself. MK’s eyes widen slightly and then it's schooled quickly. They join Red Son on the bed.

“O-oh? Have you told them?” MK squirms in place and keeps his gaze cast down. He looks uncomfortable, no. he looks upset? Why would MK be upset? Was it because he broke into his room again without permission?

No not that. Although he will have to apologize later

“I’m working on that part,” he explains scooting closer to MK and he grabs one of their hands gently. This felt stupid, and he thinks his sickness will kill him with how quickly his heart is beating. He was terrified and all his symptoms were amplified by ten.

He looks into MK’s espresso-colored eyes looking for something. He loved those eyes. They showed so much in them and he SWORE they could change the whole lighting of a room.

He opens and closes his mouth like a fish out of water with his false starts. Eventually, he clears his throat and releases his confession.

“Umm well...MK. I h-have a crush on you.”

he shuts his eyes and waits for the rejection, waits to hear MK laugh with their head back and shove him away.

None of that comes.

He peaks an eye open to find MK’s face a bright scarlet red. Was that a good sign? Or was MK so angry at him that he was just building up anger inside of him like a volcano ready to blow.

“ I w-will leave now.” he pulls away ready to retreat with at least his dignity still in tack. He's pulled back violently and soft lips are smashed to his. He lets out a surprised whimper and absolutely melts into the feeling. His brain is electrified and static all at once.

He kisses back hungrily grabbing MK by the waist and pulls him closer. When they are running out of air only does MK pull away with a little breathless gasp.

“Stay the night?” They requested, placing a soft kiss to the juncture of his neck and he can’t find a single cell in his body that would possibly say no. He nods numbly and MK kisses him again a smile on his lips that he could taste.

----------

“MK GET UP! YOU ARE LATE AGAIN!!”

Pigsy burst down the door jolting the demon awake from his peaceful slumber, his arms that were previously wrapped around MK pull away quickly in the process. He thinks he could stick to the ceiling with his claws like a cat in a cartoon if he jolted just a little higher.

The covers are yanked off them both before Red Son even has time to protest. Thank gods they both put underwear back on when they finished satisfying each other. Red Son is completely and thoroughly exposed to MK’s boss, bitemarks, and hickes across his chest snitching on him.

Red Son and Pigsy meet eyes and he feels a sweat break out across his neck. Pigsy sighs and pinches his snout. He sucks in a deep breath and lets it out through his nose.

“I don't know what happened here... And I don't WANT to know. Tell MK he’s got ten minutes to get downstairs.” Pigsy turns on his heel and leaves slamming the door behind him. Red Son looks over to his now-boyfriend who’s mouth hangs open with drool dripping down his face.

MK slept through all of it.

He can’t help but chuckle and kiss their forehead gently.

#lego monkie kid #monkie kid #MK #Red Son #spicynoodleshipping #Red Son may not be the sharpest cookie in the box #thats it. thats the sentance #wrtting prompts #prompt ask

[tojakku]

✶ - sugarplums and stardust 

pairing: fpopstar! reader x arc trooper fives                                            summary: you, sugarplum, galaxy-wide adored popstar. fives, galaxy-wide renowned idiot.                                                                                  warnings: rated m for mature! this chapter includes: smut (18+), oral (female receiving), dirty talk, implied rough sex, pee pee in v, the beauty of checking up on your partner, mature language... a hot clone trooper, flirtation... alcohol... etc... fives being a little slut 

THE BARRACKS ARE ALMOST ENTIRELY QUIET. Almost. The centre of Coruscant never quite escaped from the thrum of late-night traffic, or the sing of the planet throbbing right below their feet, through canals and chambers and pipes of sewers crawling with scrap rats. 

Sometimes too much silence wasn’t good for Fives’ brothers. Sometimes it made them more restless, tossing and turning before eventually leaving to the gym, to push weights and punch bags until their tiredness had them collapsing on the mats. It was an uneasy and unpredictable world in the barracks- right where it should be predictable and easy.

The 501st are on shore leave along with a good handful of other battalions, a couple from the Inner Rim, the 13th Battalion from Sullust, even Wolffe and Cody were sticking around somewhere. Fives, although he was meant to be raving and silly and wild, was feeling a little… well, he hadn’t eaten much at dinner.

Something about the last campaign on Bothawui, a second, months after the first, and being soaked through with blood and gunfire, had just dulled him a little. Maybe he just needed sharpening.

He muscles his helmet in his hands, trudging down the main corridor through the barracks. There were separate rooms inside now, the one he shared with the rest of Rex’s squadron far at the end. The lights, although top of the range, working perfectly, were too bright, flickering off the durasteel of the walls, the floors, the ceilings. Fives wrinkles his nose. Too bright.

There’s the slightest shimmer of music, though, and for a brief fleeting moment, Fives is convinced it’s coming from outside, from Coruscant, but when he pushes through into his part of the barracks, his stomping ground, he stops still.

Now, the 501st have always been fans of partying, music, drinks, cantinas, women, but Maker, Fives was not expecting four full-grown men huddled around a datapad, nodding their heads to a silvery voice accompanied by a thrumming beat. He didn’t expect, either, the harsh shushing he receives from an irritated Kix.

The medic holds up a hand and starts rabbiting on to Jesse, perched on his left on the bunk, leaning his hand on his brother’s shoulder. Damn batchmates. 

“See? She’s amazing,” Kix mutters, gesturing at the datapad. “She was on the radio the other day, little Tano said something about her and I looked into it.” Fives tosses his helmet on the opposite bunk and takes a peek at what exactly they’re watching.

Oh.

A popstar. Shimmying. Rather precariously. 

She’s all clad up in pale, pastel lavender, her cheeks dusted in a thin film of shimmering pink, her mouth painted a matching shade. She’s even got this wild, bright yellow hair. Kix takes a wary glance at Fives before angling the screen a little more.

“Sugarplum.” 

“She’s some babe from the Core Worlds, a superstar,” Hardcase supplies, chewing on a bar of some unidentifiable substance with a grin. “Hot,” he comments, when she turns to wink at the camera.

“What is this?” Fives asks, leaning heavily on the bunk. Her shimmering, glittery skin seems to just seep through the datapad with every shift, shimmy and spin. 

“She’s doing concerts all over Coruscant in the next few days. Then Corellia, then the other ecumenopoli.” Echo speaks as if it’s common knowledge. Fives scowls at his twin, shoving his shoulder with a hand. 

Kix swipes left on the datapad and suddenly a rather risque picture flashes up, Sugarplum’s tongue out, her eyes rolled back. A ripple of chaos from the boys as they try to cover the datapad, and a roar of laughter from Hardcase when the pad goes flying over their heads.

“What the fuck?”

“That is not my datapad, I swear-”

“Yeah, it’s Tup’s!” 

“No, no, it’s definitely ‘Case’s.”

Fives snorts, throwing himself onto his bunk, listening, happily, to his brothers bicker.

“Want to bet she wants a piece of clone ass?” A murmur of dissent and discern when Jesse speaks follows- Fives struggles not to burst into a laugh. The cog-faced trooper looks down in embarrassment when he’s knuckled into a headlock. “Come on!”

“Yeah, maybe she does, but we weren’t going to say that!” A pause. “It’s practically gospel truth all of the beautiful ladies want a piece of us.”

The door busts open again, on four troopers in a pile, and Fives, beaming happily away on his bunk. It’s Rex, ole’ Captain, and he looks once at the pile, once at Fives, before moving into the barracks, silent as night- not on Coruscant, silent somewhere else.

Fives wriggles under his Captain’s gaze, uneasy. Sometimes he made him uneasy when he didn’t talk, didn’t even greet them. Sometimes it meant the end of shore leave. Fives swallows, stuffing the panic hard down in his stomach to edge himself along the bunk with a little more formality. Rex catches his gaze.

“You lot looking at Sugarplum again?” There’s an uproar of disagreements, denials and something else, just Jesse relenting with a sigh. Fives stuffs a fist against his mouth, trying to contain his laughter at the four troopers fumbling over each other, even as Rex stares, unimpressed. 

“Yeah,” Fives mutters. “They were, but we saw some of Hardcase’s secret bank and they threw the-” A pillow hits him square in the face. “Hey!” 

“You guys are bad as cadets,” Rex huffs, laughing softly, bringing his datapad up. He looks more tired than usual, rings under his eyes.

“You tired, Rex?” Kix asks, suddenly fluttering into medic-mode. He touches Rex’s forehead with the back of three fingers and draws an amused sigh from the Captain. Fives watches over the edge of his fist. If something’s wrong with Rex, that means no drinking themselves into inhibition later that night. 

“Better not be! We’re out tonight,” Jesse knocks his hand on Rex’s shoulder as he throws himself up from the bunk. “And I’m dreaming of beating Commander Wolffe in a drink-down this time. This time.”

“Don’t you say that every time, vod?” Hardcase levels a gaze back at the now-scowling Jesse. 

“What clubs do you think Sugarplum goes to?”

“Those glitzy ones on the upper levels, probably, the ones suspended in the air,” Rex joins in then, making weird shapes with his hands. “You’ve seen.” A moment of silence. “Okay, well, the General told me they sell sunfruit liquors there for five credits a shot.”

“Is it supposed to be better than the shit they sell us at 79’s?”

“Who fucking knows.”

“The General, apparently-”

“Kenobi was the one who told him.” 

Another round of laughs. Fives sighs, smiling, before wrestling Echo into a headlock.

“Ready to get out-drunk tonight, brother?” A shove, a scoff, then a grin. “You better be. You owe me three drink runs.”

“Three?” 

“Three, vod, three. For the last time I saved you.” Echo shakes his head, pushing a hand through his dark hair- same as them all, deep down. “Three.”

“Two.”

Fives laughs, bumping forearms with his brother. Echo knocks his temple against Fives’ and a moment of softness breaks the twins’ bickering.

“Fine, two.” 

Fives never could refuse his batchmate. 

-

You weren’t, and never will be, completely keen on Coruscant. Too much… difference. No, it’s not that, it’s just the deep tunnels into the ground and the rumours you hear sometimes, through your girls, through… well, anywhere.

‘Disease grows twofold as the lower levels of Coruscant are ignored for a Senate sickness’, or ‘The lower levels of Coruscant- most dangerous place in the galaxy?’. No, of course not. There’s police, you stupid news writer.

You pick idly at your nails, smoothing your thumbs over each metallic-blue painted tip to soothe your nerves. 

Eva and Lirisa had planned for a club outing tonight. The concert earlier had gone perfectly fine, just amazing, really. Everything was on point, the dancing, the singing, the backup vocals, the crowd… it still tingles on your skin like a second skin. The thrill would never hit any different.

You’re hidden away in your dressing room back in your apartment, slumped over a chair like a swooning lady. Lirisa is fixing her hair around her three little head horns, a bright, vivid purple like her skin, frowning in the mirror over your shoulder. She catches your gaze after a moment, face folding into concern.

You stretch out in the plum velvet chair, legs in fluffy slippers spreading when she gets that look. That look meant questions.

“Why are you so down?” You frown, shaking your head, returning your gaze to the datapad in your hands. A news article about you paints the screen. Lirisa looks down, once, twice, realises, and snatches your chin away from it. “Stop reading it if it’s bad.”

“It’s not bad. It’s good.” She pouts, letting you go with a soft pat to the shoulder. You shuffle uncomfortably in your feather-trimmed robe, the sheer material not offering much of a comfort in the face of a wide-open balcony window a few paces away.

Eva appears seconds later, looking plump and perfect in her eye-snatching candyfloss pink minidress, feet hidden in peculiar fur-cuffed ankle boots. She shifts, eyes ducking against the ground, her tattoos across her nose, little black diamonds against pale green skin, vivid and stark. 

“Oh, wow!” You exclaim, turning the spinning chair with a free hand. Lirisa squeals, rushing forward to tug at the hem of the dress, pulling the daring v-neck even lower. Eva hisses, batting away her friend’s hands.

“Don’t pull it down that far!” 

“I wasn’t!” 

A giggle and a sigh, then attention flickers back towards you. Your gut drops when they rush forwards, springing upon your wardrobe like it was their job- well, it was, but that doesn’t matter. There’s two options for dresses and you’ve already made your decision. A deep blue second skin, a dress that shimmered like a starlit night under the right light. The front was a simple scooped neck, low enough that your cleavage could make a gasp for breath, but not low enough you’d be recognised for a sleaze. The back is a square of sheer material until your hips, a little more than daring, a little less than risque, perfect for a night of dancing and drinking. 

There were even little silver stilettos in the corner. 

“No one will recognise me in blue, so stop trying to find other dresses,” you chide. “I’ve already made my decision.” A pout from Lirisa doesn’t move your hard-as-steel expression. Sometimes the Theelin girl had the ability to actually change your mind, but now, you sit there, waiting patiently for her to stop sulking. “Are we still going to that… um, that bar?”

“‘That bar’,” Eva mocks, turning you sharply to the mirror to start fiddling with your hair. It rests, untouched, until she starts pulling it up. “The clone bar.”

“Are we even going to be allowed in?” Eva nods, twisting a coil of hair around her finger. It’s not the same electric yellow it was on stage- the wig was long gone. “Who have you bribed this time?” You grin, glancing at her in the mirror. She shakes her head, disgusted at the pure suggestion of bribery. 

(Wouldn’t be the first time she had… well, Eva had once tried to bribe a club bouncer with a tray of meiloorun fruit.)

“I heard from a reliable source in the GAR offices that a whole bunch of sexy, all-too-willing clones are on shore leave.” You sigh, tugging on a forlorn strand of hair. Eva grabs your shoulder, firmly. “Don’t pull, your hair is almost done.”

“Shouldn’t I get my dress on first?”

“You’ll only spill blumfruit juice on it.” You scowl. “And we’re leaving in twenty minutes, standard. I already called a speeder for us.” 

“No paps?”

“No paps.” A pat on your shoulder and you relax. “Anyway, we’re going to have fun tonight!” Lirisa moves around in the background, now clad head to toe in what looks like skin-tight purple leather. She smiles, fondly, smoothing down a crease at her hip. The neckline plunges low below her sternum, but she acts as if she’s wearing Jedi robes with a swish and a sashay. You redirect your eyes when you get a rather tasteful flash of sideboob. “Looking good, Liri.”

“Thank you!”

“Is it a new suit?” A pause, a shrug. “Is it from my wardrobe?” You ask, eyebrow cocked in question. She nods, coyly smiling. “Fair enough.”

“Huh! If I took that you’d scream at me.”

“No, because I’d never confidently display so much sideboob at a club, Eva,” you mutter. Eva ponders it for a moment, but agrees, nodding. “Exactly.”

“Well, let’s just get to the club first, then we’ll decide how much ‘sideboob’ you’ll display after a few drinks.”

-

If there was one thing Eva was right about, it was the abundancy of rather good-looking men in the same place. Getting in had been easy- just flutter your lashes at the Coruscant guard on the door, he’d step aside and let you straight in with promises of a kiss later. 

Inside was beautiful, purple and blue lights swinging low from a long-greyed ceiling, huge yellow holograms with all manner of languages on them- news, nunaball, flashes of the GAR-droids, the ones that present it. Then, even a flicker of your own face. A familiar beat begins thrumming ten steps into the bar.

Eva barks a laugh, hooking her pale green arm through yours, tugging you closer towards the bartender. She starts ordering shots in a rapid call, smiling politely at the droid behind it. You lean an elbow on the bright, turquoise counter, relishing in the sultry high notes of one of your latest tunes. Lirisa throws her arms around your waist, humming softly.

“Three.” Eva holds up her fingers. “Thank you.”

You flex your hands under the glow of a green-yellow menu. It’s fascinating, being suspended in a place like this and being able to take your eyes off the crowd for just a moment without being scared of being hustled. Eva touches your shoulder momentarily, her usual gesture of reassurance.

Your gaze slips from the bar- it’s fascinating, yes, but more fascinating are the similar faces flashing around you. Each one the same, but slightly different. Silver hair, shaved head, tattooed, long hair, dark hair, pale hair, wider smile, careful gaze. You wet your lips and catch the gaze of a trooper a few seats down.

He’s broad, like the rest of his brothers, but something else settles about him like a halo. Dominance, confidence. He’s got one cybernetic eye, too, but the gruffness of his expression as he moves from his seat has your eyes fixated.

Suddenly, you catch another gaze of another set of troopers some ways away.

Huddled in a booth, an entire squad is staring right at you. With a startled huff, you cross your legs, tugging gently on Lirisa’s leather sleeve.

“I think I’ve been made.”

“Where?” She looks over your shoulder, brown eyes searching against the near-darkness of the club. She raises an eyebrow, slowly. “Oh. Just troopers, it’s okay. They won’t bother you.” You frown, interlocking your fingers and moving, slowly, to lean awkwardly against the counter. Their gazes reside on your back, sticky like syrup, until someone speaks roughly at your side.

“You’re not a clone.” 

You turn, matching the gaze of the gruff man from before. A glance over his armour tells you nothing- great. He’s patched in a pale, unforgiving black, and he moves, tilting his body to rest on the countertop. 

“No,” you murmur. “I suppose I’m not.” Your fingers go immediately to your necklace, a thin chain of silver studded with transparent stones, to tug. It’s a habit. The trooper looks at you for a long moment, dark eye and silver eye roving until he smiles, a little. Something tells you smiling isn’t normally what he’s used to. “Is that a good thing?” A look through your lashes and a splutter of drink from Eva over your shoulder has you struggling to hold in a laugh. 

The man’s eyes flit to the screens, then back to you.

“Is that you?” You purse your lips, glancing at the hologram. “Nice.” Nothing else is added before he prepositions: “Want to dance?”

It’s only a moment after he offers his name, ‘Wolffe’, that you agree, letting him lead you to a writhing pack of men, clones and civvies, a few girls of all species. Your fingers thread through his and with a giggle, you sit your drink- a sunfruit cocktail- now finished, on an empty table. A rivulet of excitement ripples through your stomach when he tugs you firmly to his chest, roving a strong-fingered hand over the small of your back.

He asks a soft ‘this okay?’, but you’re too far flushed with music and finally, relaxation. You throw your arms around his neck and sway to the upbeat bass. A few more moments and your head drops back with a soft sigh, Wolffe’s fingers catching against the thin seam where the sheer material turns back into oil-slick silken fabric. Your breath hitches.

“Never did get your name,” he huffs, nose brushing yours. You sigh, smiling politely.

“They call me Sugarplum,” you murmur, letting his hands on your hips move you a little more vigorously to the disco-beat. Wolffe grins, wolfish, before flipping you around, a hand flattening against your stomach. 

The music continues, and you continue to let Wolffe roam his hands along your midriff until he’s heaving heavy breaths in your ear and becoming slowly less dancer-like. You had to admit, the clones seemed like they were lithe bands of silk ready to snap, but you were dying for a drink.

When the song starts to pulse out in favour of a quicker, sharper tone, you slide your hands against his and softly remove them.

“I need a drink,” you shout over the music. He swipes a hand over his sweat-stricken hair and nods, dropping himself into a booth. “Thanks for the dance.” You brush your lips against his cheek and dart through the crowd, desperately searching for a flicker of pink, or purple. Luckily, Lirisa’s still at the bar, pressed against it by someone in red armour, perhaps, but there nevertheless, and smiling, sober. “Liri and… friend.”

“This is Thire,” she calls, patting his hand. “Coruscant Guard.”

“Fancy.” You stare at him for a moment, trying to decide on his intentions when he gives the brightest, sweetest smile you’ve ever seen. You feel your cheeks rush with heat. “Nice to meet you.”

“Plum,” Lirisa mutters. “How was your dance?”

“Oh, fine… you know me…”

“What, a prude?”

“No!” You bat her arm with a hiss. “Picky.” You flag down for another drink, dumping a pile of credits on the counter. Thire’s brows skyrocket, his face a portrait of shock when the droid picks through and takes only what’s needed. “Oh, I don’t know the prices…”

“That’s a lotta’ credits.”

Lirisa tilts his chin with one long, lavender finger and captures his mouth, eyes settling on you with a meaningful look. You swipe the credits up, dumping them back in the little silver shoulder bag she’s got on the counter. Oops.

You hear yourself in the speakers again.

“Huh. Whoever’s DJ-ing has nice taste.” Lirisa pulls away from Thire after a long moment, her lipstick a little smudged, but with a warm smile, Thire swipes it back into place. “Thank you, baby doll.” Thire darkens. “I’ve always liked ‘Popgloss’.” 

“It’s not my best,” you murmur, eyes fluttering with shyness. 

“This is you?” Thire asks, gesturing at the screen. You look at yourself, bearing a bright, fluorescent blue wig and matching lipstick. “That’s you?” He huffs a laugh of surprise. “Nice lipstick.”

“Thank her,” you reply, jabbing a thumb in the Theelin’s direction.

The droid slides a new drink over. You frown, staring at it. The glass is literally glowing, a white-ish liquid simmering inside. 

“Courtesy of the 501st, ma’am.” The droid trundles away and you stare at the bright blue liquid with a smile. 

“Boys in blue, huh?” Thire looks at the drink, then back at Liri with hooded eyes. “That looks like a mist-cocktail.” He turns, glancing over his shoulder towards where you’d seen the table staring at you. You follow his gaze, but only a few troopers remain. One of them raises a hand in a two-fingered salute, though. You smile coyly, waving in return. 

With a careful touch, you raise the glass to your mouth and take a sip. It’s warm, warm down to your toes, and tastes amazing.

“Tastes great,” you say, a little surprised. “I should go thank them.”

“No, you should leave them waiting, maybe they’ll come up to you!” You scowl, shaking your head. Another sip of your drink and you turn, walking swiftly towards the table where only three troopers remain out of what was a lot more. One with long hair, another with lines tattooed down his face, grinning roguishly, and the last with a buzzed, blonde cut. 

“Um, I just wanted to say thank you for the drink.” You fiddle with the draw, lashes fluttering of their own command. All three troopers are staring, two at your face, and the other quite firmly at your legs. “And, well… thank you for fighting. Your service,” you murmur, suddenly taken aback with shyness. Come on, superstar personality! Make your appearance.

The blonde grins.

“You’re welcome. On both counts.” His demeanour is remarkably similar to that of the Wolffe from earlier. Perhaps a Commander. “We’re quite enjoying your music tonight.” You chew idly on a thumb, smiling bashfully. “And we enjoyed Wolffe’s poor attempt at dancing.”

“Oh!” You snort. “He wasn’t that bad!” Eyes follow your hips as they turn, swaying back and forth as you try to plant yourself firmly and more confidently at one side of the round table. “Um, well, thank you anyway.”

“Thank you, Sugarplum.”

You make a wild getaway before you can embarrass yourself further or faint in the lap of the blonde, who was staring a little too sharply for your taste. The music seems to pulse louder with every step you get back to Lirisa, who is now firmly shoved against the counter and smothered by Thire’s mouth. Eva is nowhere to be seen.

“Where’s Eva?”

“She ran off with a Twi’lek lady.” 

You smile, huffing a chuckle of disbelief, leaning forwards to finish your drink in two more sips, when slowly, you notice a presence approaching you from the side.

Hands, well-defined, lined with veins and a few here-and-there scars, draw your attention like an industrial magnet. His skin is bronze, a dark, deep gold, like his brothers, but he plants his weight on the bar and clears his throat softly before speaking.

“Hey,” he says, voice low, dark. You swallow, hard, turning your head. He’s quite a face. He’s got quite a face- sorry, he’s… got quite a face. Right below his hairline, there’s a little ‘5’ tattoo, nestled there, inked in night-black. You take another sip of your drink for courage.

Alone, it’s easier.

“Hello.” Your voice is a little uneasy, but the trooper smiles, his eyes shining with politeness. Your eyes flutter shut when another one of your songs bursts through the speakers, but the trooper’s grin only grows.

“I’m not boring you, am I?” 

“No! No, sorry, I’m just… I don’t know.” His smile softens at the corners, less devilish, and he shifts his weight, spine arching with the movement. You let your gaze flicker along his lithe body, contained in blue-stained armour. ‘Boys in blue’, Thire had said. “Oh! You sent me the drink… it’s delicious.”

“Yeah? One of my favourites.” He moves a hand back through his dark hair, eyes ducking for a brief second, before meeting yours once more. You feel your chest swoop and you smile, wide, wider than usual. “Fives.” He offers a hand, a handshake, and you accept it, only for him to flip your wrist. His lips ghost your knuckles. “Pleasure to meet you.”

“You can call me Plums,” you supply. “That’s what all my friends call me.”

“Friends?” A coy, cocked brow. Your chest flutters and you nod, drawing your bottom lip between your teeth. You’ve probably got dark lipstick all over your teeth by this point, but the way Fives poses the question has you suddenly not-so-bothered. Lirisa’s knuckles jabs your spine twice, a signal. You’re pretty much alone now. She’d bring Thire back to her apartment, two floors under yours, and Eva was wherever that Twi’lek took her. “We like your music in the barracks.”

“Oh? Thank you,” you murmur, gazing into the bottom of your glass. “I wish you could all come to one of my concerts, that’s the only place I sound good sometimes. My studio stuff is a little-” 

He suddenly tilts your chin with the knuckle of his finger, still grinning brightly.

“Don’t want to lose my beautiful view.” You chew helplessly on your lip, chest releasing a sort-of sigh, more like a swooning hum. “And I like both. All of it. The boys were playing a couple clips of your concert today.”

“Really?” You fiddle with the stem of your glass, not letting your eyes drop from his face, chiselled and kind, warm. 

“Yeah. I like the pink, but if I’m honest, I like this blue on you even better.” He taps your lower arm, where the sleeve ends at your wrist. “We’re matching, see?” He gestures at his blue-painted armour. You suddenly smile, nerves dissipating. 

“Seems like we are.” A smile shared, and Fives shifts forwards. His fingers skim your waist as he signals the droid for another drink. “You want me drunk or something?”

“How many have you had?”

“I can handle another. For you.” He raises a brow, eyes suddenly narrowing with a wild grin. “I suppose.” You rest a hand against his chestplate and he huffs a noise of near-surprise, before taking your fingers in his. He brushes his mouth against them and thanks the droid when he appears with another mist-cocktail, no, two. “What are these even made from?”

“Good question,” he murmurs, taking a long sip of his. You stare at him, unabashedly, for a moment, watching the light flicker through his long lashes, then the twitch of his mouth when he realises you’re staring. “Something you like?”

“You have the most beautiful profile I’ve ever seen,” you gush, turning his head with the tips of your fingers, smiling. His breath comes out in a slow whirl when you slide a fingertip down the bridge of his nose. “Like a statue. One of those ones on Naboo in the big fancy halls.”

“You callin’ me handsome?”

“I’m calling you more than that.” 

He takes another long drink of his cocktail and you follow, letting it warm your stomach. You glance at his blue armour, touching the lines of his arm.

“Boys in blue?”

“501st Legion.” He bows his head. “At your service, I’m certain. In fact, half the GAR will probably fall at your feet, princess.” You smile, sheepish. “Don’t be so unsure of yourself,” he murmurs, touching a curl of fallen hair at your temple.

“Who said I was unsure? Maybe I’m just faltering in the sheer radiance of your beauty.” Fives laughs, a low rumble in his chest, finishing his drink in one swallow. “501st… are you a Commander?”

He shakes his head with a smile.

“ARC-trooper. Advanced Recon Commando.”

“Oh? So… elite of the elite?” Fives’ eyes flutter, sliding over your features in one long, languid sweep. “Am I stroking your ego?”

“I’d much rather you stroke something else.”

You hum, head turning. You want to pretend the crude line has made you suddenly disgusted, but when he fastens a hand around your waist, you’d rather fall into him, onto him, onto him. He radiates energy. 

“Can you kiss me now?”

His eyes widen, at least a little, and he smiles, eyes lidded, gaze smokier than a Sullust sunrise.

“Can I kiss you? That can be arranged.”

Fives leans, capturing your lips in a soft, chaste kiss. He tastes of cocktails and fruit and something else sharper, darker, but you don’t care. It’s suddenly rather hard to care as he brushes a thumb along your ribs and leans you back further. Your chest hisses a content sigh when he tilts your chin, pulls back, then takes your mouth a little harder. 

He’s soft as silk for a soldier with calloused hands, his touch careful, hesitant until you moan quietly into his mouth and he touches his tongue against the seam of your lips. You let your jaw open, and he slides his tongue along your teeth, grins, then groans when your hips cant into his. 

“Fives, do you want… do you want to come to my apartment?” He huffs, almost as if he can’t believe his luck, mouth shining with moisture. His head dips, claiming your lips once more like he’s got unfinished business there. 

His thumbs ripple over the creases in the dress at your hips, his index, middle, ring finger pressing into your ass, pulling you closer. He knows how to work himself, that’s for sure. You shudder, one hand threading into his hair, the other fastening firmly around his bicep like a vice. He slides his tongue into your mouth and sucks at your bottom lip with a chuckle. You muffle a choked whine, desire suddenly starting to yap at the gates like a feral beast. 

“Yeah…” he replies, finally, eyes fluttering to kiss you again, twice, three times.

There’s gazes on you from the boys in the booth, you know, you feel them, but you don’t take a chance at them until you can lean back for a cool breath of fresh air. They all sit there, slack-jawed, wide eyed.

“Your friends are looking at us,” you murmur, fingers digging into his upper arm.

“Let them look. They’re not the ones getting an eyeful of this masterpiece up close,” he hums, nosing along your jaw. “You should be painted.”

“Is that what you say to all the girls?”

“What do you want to hear?”

“The truth.”

“You’re the first one it’s true for.” You feel your heart thrum a little quicker, his fingers pressing hard into your ass, then relaxing. “You wanna call a cab?”

“Yeah. Yeah, come on,” you murmur. You’re more out of breath than you’d like to admit- than your ego would like to admit. Fives steals another cool kiss in the entrance to the club, greeting a few of his brothers in a language you don’t understand, before ushering you in his warm, huge hands, to the cab drop-off.  His arms suddenly hook around your waist and you sigh, softly, contently. 

After dialling in the address to your apartment, the cab takes only another long two minutes to show up, of which consists mainly of Fives drawing his tongue in teasing circles on your neck, and hot, heavy touches along your ribcage.

You step into the cab first, smiling politely to the driver, only to be pinned to the seat by a suddenly ravenous Fives. He pulls you up, over, onto his lap and keeps you there with a hand on your thigh.

“What do you want from me?” He asks, voice low, rough. “I want to be sure you want this.” A finger gestured between your chests and you laugh, threading your fingers through his hair. “What’re you laughin’ at?”

“How could it be possible anyone wouldn’t want you, Fives?” You tug gently at his roots, smoothing kisses on both of his cheeks with a coy smile.

“You haven’t met my brothers,” he whispers, lips brushing your ear. “They don’t want even to bet on me when we spar.” You sigh, stretching. “Do you normally do this?”

“Do what?” You ask, certain your eyes are probably blared with lust and something more primal, more dangerous. Fives smothers his face in your throat, nipping gently at your pulse, breath more of a growl now. “Invite handsome men back to my apartment? You should ask my friends.”

“The Theelin and the Mirialan?” You nod. 

“They think I’m quite picky, so nine out of ten nights end with me alone, eating ice cream and watching limmie.” Fives laughs, stroking a thumb over the crease of your knee. “So, you’re lucky.”

“Oh, yeah,” he growls, thumbing at your bottom lip with a grin. You take the digit into your mouth with a hum. “I’ve hit the jackpot.”

The cab stutters up to the dock at the very bottom of the apartment block, and it takes Fives a moment to stare up at the towering building before you can pay the driver and usher him into the doors. Islair, the Nikto receptionist, raises his hand in a polite wave, before doing a double take at the trooper on your arm. He still smiles, though, when you step into the lift.

“You aren’t afraid of heights?” You ask, when Fives leans against the metal bar on the opposite side of the half-glass lift. It slides smoothly through the building, leaving Coruscant more and more distant with every floor climbed.

“No.”

“Good. We’re going to the fiftieth floor.” You smile, fluttering your lashes, crooking your finger towards him. He crosses the lift, boots thudding against red carpet beneath your heeled feet, before shoving you roughly against the wall. His lips break your resolve as soon as he presses them against yours, tongue sliding through into your mouth with a hard groan. He shifts his hips against yours and hooks your wrists beside your head.

“You… we have to make sure there are boundaries.”

“You’d be surprised how much I can take, Fives.” He huffs, a low, gasp of a breath, fingers running up, below your dress. “How much can you give?” 

“You’re really riling me up, princess,” he whispers, voice sharp. “How long till your floor?” You glance at the numbers, ticking up through thirty.

“Not long, handsome,” you murmur, sliding the tips of your fingers down his stomach, along his codpiece, until he groans, planting two hands hard on either side of you He could almost bend the metal. “Relax.”

“Tell me to relax while you’re doing that?” He grumbles, smothering you in another rushed kiss when the lift pings, and the doors open. In one graceful swoop, he hauls you into his arms and waits for you to flick out your apartment key. You rustle through the black, studded purse in your hands and quickly draw it out, a shimmery, pearlescent card. 

“Apartment Three,” you whisper. Fives hurries along the carpeted hall, lowering you to your feet in front of a rather decadent black door, watching as you flick your card over the scanner. A soft, delirious scent of vanilla hits him right in the face when it opens, and he lets you tug him inside.

There’s a moment of silence.

“So, this is my apartment,” you mumble, feeling his presence creeping behind you. His hands snake around your middle, to the hem of your dress and up once more. He takes his time, like he’s standing in front of a painting at a gallery, pushing himself along your spine. You arch your back, sighing softly when he cups your breasts in his hands and kisses your throat, once, twice. “You don’t care…”

“Nice place.” Is all he manages, rubbing his thumbs over your nipples, hardened against the silk of your underwear, underneath your dress, but he knows- he grins, smoothing his hands down your sides. “Do you want me?”

“Yes.” You turn, fiddling with the latches of his armour pieces, kneeling on the cool wood of the ground. His throats jumps, but you ignore it, finely, too, as you release the rest of his white and blue protection onto the floor. “There. All done.”

“Uh, uh,” he calls, wrapping a hand around your wrist when you try to escape. Your breath hitches. Your back hits against his chest. “Your turn, princess.” His fingers play with the hem of your dress, spreading out along the warmth of your thighs. 

“Zip.” He leans back, moving a hand to slowly drag the zip along your spine. 

“You’re beautiful,” he whispers, kissing your shoulder, your throat. “Beautiful girl.” You exhale, sharply, shifting the dress from your arms with a wriggle. “Fuckin’ Maker,” he huffs, reaching forrwards to skim his thumbs over your bare skin. You’re suddenly quite happy you wore the black, slightly sexy underwear rather than the black, completely mismatched pair you were rushing for a few hours earlier. 

“You like it?”

“Who were you planning to snag at the club? Wolffe wouldn’t have lasted five minutes with you. He’s hard on the outside, soft on the inside.” Fives smooths the pads of his thumbs across your breasts, nipples hardened in the cups of your bra, before lowering his mouth to the crevice between them. He runs his tongue, slowly, carefully, along the cool silk of your skin. “Fox, maybe. No… no, he’d finish and kick you out. Rex? My Captain? My brother?” You gasp, cupping his face between your hands. “No. Too soft. Too slow.” 

“What are you trying to say, Fives?”

“That I’m the brother for you.” You giggle, throwing your arms around his neck. “I promise, I promise from the bottom of my heart… I am the clone for you.” He offers a goofy smile.

“I trust you, Fives,” you whisper, brushing his nose with yours. “Do you still want to try it, though?” You stroke a finger down the nape of his neck. “Figure out whether I’m the woman for you?” He tucks an arm below your hips and hauls you up, up into the air. 

“I already know.”

“You don’t even know my favourite colour… my favourite flavour of ice cream, my favourite meal!”

“All in good time. For now,” he busts open a door at random. “Good choice.” It’s the bedroom. A wide bed, perfect for ignoring alarms, and what seems to be, to Fives, a good throwing range. He tosses you onto the mattress, and you bounce, just a little, watching him from the head of the bed. “Comfortable, too.”

“Come here,” you call, springing onto your knees. Fives reaches over his head and tugs in one mighty pull, his shirt off. You swallow, dry-mouthed, when he displays deep bronze skin, six lines of ridged muscle, broad arms, broader shoulders. His grin grows. 

“You like what you-”

“Yes.” You hook an arm around his neck and pull him back onto the bed, hauling him below you. Bare skin against bare skin, you tremble with every hot, silky-smooth touch he ghosts up your legs, over your knees, along the curve of your spine. You shift your hips against him, pressing purposely along the velvet length hidden in his blacks. Your fingers splay against his chest, sliding along his stomach, into the waistband of his trousers.

A husky gasp and a growl when your fingertips fuss through the downy triangle of hair at the very centre of those defined lines of muscle, a perfect V. He thrusts his hips up, planting himself at an angle on his elbows. You grin, wrapping a hand around his cock.

It’s broad, long, big enough to make you wince, and hot to the touch. You sweep a thumb over the tip, wetness pooling there somewhere, a drop, more than that, a rivulet running along the underside of the head. 

“Fuckin’ hell.” You smile, capturing Fives in a hard, rough kiss. His teeth clack against yours, but he doesn’t care, all he seems to care about is keeping that pressure on his dick and keeping you right there, beside him. “Oh, Maker.” 

“That feel good, soldier?”

“Pull rank on me and I’ll cum in your hand right now.” He grins. You sigh, tapping your chin with your free hand. 

“What comes next, I wonder?” Fives growls, tossing you on your back in one hard motion. He kicks off his pants, exposing bulking, heavy thighs corded with muscle and a long, thick cock. You grin, going to crawl forwards, but Fives presses you to the bed with a hand. 

“No, no. Just stay there.” His fingers hook in the waistband of your panties. They’re lace and silk, elegant, and he tugs them down, slowly. “You’re beautiful.” You feel your body flush, Fives’ breath quickening against your stomach, your knees, the apex of your thighs, before he presses his mouth into your heat. 

“Oh, Gods, give a little warning next time-” He squeezes the skin of your right thigh with a sigh, running his tongue up the liquid warmth between your legs, between your folds, along the petal-pink flesh, wet with desire. “Fives.”

“You’re sweeter than sugar, princess. Sweeter than anything.” He taps your hips and pins them into the bed, nose brushing your clit with dangerous precision. “So pretty, soft.” His tongue thrusts into you, gathering your slickness in one long motion. He moves his fingers slowly, carefully, along your skin, rubbing one against your entrance in a wolfish, evil way. 

“You’re an asshole.”

“Hm?” Fives croons, biting softly at the skin of your thigh. “You say something?” He hums, licking his lips before shoving his face back between your legs. With the quick shift of his head, his finger eases into you, slowly, carefully. You groan, pushing your hand through his hair. His tongue is teasing at your clit, his finger shifting delicately inside you, slower than anything, but electrifyingly so. 

“Fives, you tease,” you groan, eyes screwed shut. “Stop playing around.”

“You’re asking me to stop playing around?” He adds a second finger, stretching you to the knuckle. You hiss, a hand latching around his upper bicep like a vice. Fives grins. He pecks you twice on the hipbone, then returns his attention to between your legs. “I’m quite enjoying playing around.”

“You’re being a tease. I’d much rather give you attention- ah, fuck, fuck- too. Please,” you hiss, eyes shuddering back as he coaxes the oncomings of an orgasm out of you. A grin against your skin- you feel it. His teeth graze your skin, then his mouth latches onto you once more. Liquid heat burns through your gut, coiling you tight. “I’m going to…”

“Yes, pretty girl, give it to me.” He flicks his tongue over your clit. “Give it to me, Sugarplum. You got it, baby.” 

You choke on a moan as your orgasm snatches you away. It’s a thrumming feeling, a wheeze that escapes through your lungs and burns you hot inside out. A grin spreads onto your face, your skin is vibrating, shivering under the still-relentless touch of Fives between your legs. He eases up onto the bed, then, smoothing your breasts into his hands.

“Perfect tits,” he whispers.

“How do you want me?” You ask, breathless, eyes still spotty-white from the blinding climax rushing between your legs, rendering you twitching, shaking. 

“Get on your back for me?” He asks, pinching a nipple between two deft fingers. You keen, shuffling beneath him. Your hand snakes between his leg and slowly strokes his cock, carefully, quietly. Fives groans, capturing your mouth with his. A moan is lost into his tongue, wetting your lips then moving against them once more. He’s a battering ram- no mercy, a perfect soldier. 

“Fucking hell, Fives,” you whisper, raking nails over his scalp. He moans. You feel your stomach drop to your feet. “You like that?” He nods, parting your legs with two rough, callused hands. Your fingers pull hard at his hair and he whines, slipping his tongue back into your mouth, sliding his hand between your legs once more. He plays with your clit, your hand around his cock. 

“I’m gonna fuck you now,” he rasps, nipping at your bottom lip. You let go of him, reaching up to slide your arms along the hot, hard planes of his back. Fives stares at you, just for a moment, eyes dark like smoke, before he grips himself and pushes against you. “Slow?”

“Whatever you want,” you whisper, mouth cracking open when he impales you carefully in one liquid thrust. “Oh, shit. Now is probably a good time to tell you I’m on suppressors.” Fives tries to speak, but his words are lost in a broken groan into the hot crook of your neck. Your nails push crescent moons into his shoulders, letting him stretch you carefully along his generous length. “Are you all your brothers… this big?”

Fives huffs a laugh, nose brushing your pulse.

“Weird question.”

“Yeah,” you gasp, fanning your face with a hand. “Yeah, you’re right.” You stifle a moan between your fingers, eyes ducking back into your head. “Fuck, fuck, Fives, just a little quicker.”

“Quicker?” His hips snap against yours with a sharpness you haven’t felt before. Your chest drops out, but he continues, thumbs digging into your hips when he tilts you upwards, finding the best angle. His fingers slide beneath the small of your back to suspend you there, perfect for his ruin, when he brushes his mouth over your nipple and ruts firmly into you. “That, ah- that better?”

“Hm, yeah, yes.” You slide a hand into the hair at the back of his head, eyes fluttering shut, mouth slipping open with every thrust of his hips, every shift of his cock inside you. “Yeah, baby, that’s better.” You scratch gentle nails over his back, admiring his warmth, before tugging carefully at his hair. He groans, pinning you into the bed.

Your eyes slide shut. Stars begin to speck behind them and you think he knows by the breathless laugh against your throat, then the broken moan into your jaw, your mouth. He tongues your mouth gently, bruising your lips swollen with the fervent touches. 

“Fives-”

“Ah, yeah?”

“Touch me, just a little more,” you plead, nose brushes his as he pecks you once more, thumbing your right nipple, then finding your clit beneath a rough finger. “Yeah, yeah.”

“You like that, pretty girl?” He huffs, dragging his tongue along your throat. “Yeah?”

“Yes! Gods, yes, please!” You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him flush against your chest. Fives’ eyes disappear beneath his eyelids, his chest rumbling with soft, persistent groans every other thrust. You whine, pulling at his hair, scratching at his back. 

“You’re a little… fuckin’... ah, keep pullin’.” You giggle, threading your fingers through his hair, kissing him twice on the mouth, once on the jaw, angling his head as you see fit. “Yeah, baby, that’s right. Tight little pussy.”

He squeezes your waist with one hand, still flicking at your clit with the other hand, desperate to chase your orgasm out of you, and it works, he gives you one in moments. You stiffen, back arching, fisting a hand in the sheets, the other smoothing over his neck. Your moan echoes in your bedroom, and Fives eggs you on with gentle praise.

“Good girl, yeah, keep… fuck,” he wheezes, hiding his face in your shoulder. His arms are so tight. “Can I move you?”

“Uh-huh, yeah,” you whisper, letting him shift you into a lower position, where he impales you so suddenly your breath hitches and you shriek, turning into a whimpering mess. “Oh, that’s so good!”

“That’s good?” He breaths, pupils almost completely lost in black-brown irises.

“Yes, Fives, it’s good,” you whisper, smothering your mouth against his with a giggle, a grin, slipping your tongue into his mouth. He grunts, releasing your clit to roll a nipple between finger and thumb. You hiss sharply against him, forcing your heels into his back to push him deeper, harder. “Harder, baby, please.”

He quickens his pace, the bed shaking a little under his force.

“You’re so fuckin’ beautiful,” he murmurs against your lips. “Sweet angel,” he reaffirms. “Heaven sent.” His fingers wrap around your free wrist, pinning it against the silken sheets below your head. Your back arches with the pressure, a grin spreading along your face. “Fuckin’ hell, I’m gonna cum.” 

You hiss when he touches your clit, so eager, so painlessly prepared to give you what you want- another orgasm, more pleasure, anything. He coaxes it out of you, another climax, relishing in your writhing against him, your low whine in his ear, the shiver that follows, the sweat that slicks him head to toe. 

“Fuck!” You cry, shuddering back into the sheets.

Fives’ hips falter, his eyes scrunching shut, his groans lower, deeper, until you wind a hand into his hair and kiss him once more, and his thrusts pause.

“Inside?”

“Yeah.”

He finishes, coating you with one hard grunt, a sharp sigh, his eyes finally opening to find yours, a grin eventually appearing on his tired features. You let him fill you, for a moment more, before he pulls away a little.

“Sorry,” he whispers, pulling out. You huff at the cool touch of air against the wetness sinking deep into your skin, and watch him do a quick double-take around the room for the bathroom. With a snort, you point at the door on the left. He punches the release and wanders in, clattering around.

“Under the sink, baby.”

“Yeah! I got it,” he calls, reappearing after the tap runs for a moment. He kneels between your legs and gently, softly, wipes the warm cloth over you until he’s satisfied you’re cleaned up well enough. “There, princess.”

“Thanks.” 

He disappears back into the bathroom, and a wet slap suggests he’s just tossed the rag into the bath tub. An muffled ‘oops’ and there’s another sound of running water. 

You stifle a giggle behind your hand, darting from the bed to snatch up his long-sleeve top. It had the Republic branded right in the middle, grey against the black, and you snuggle into it, sliding your arms into too-big sleeves. Fives reappears after a moment and grins, crooking a finger towards your shrouded form.

“Do you want me to go?” He asks, quietly, sincerely. “I’m assuming ‘no’ since you’ve stolen my shirt,” he hums.

“No, stay, please.” You usher him towards the bed, hands on his ass. You squeeze once with a snort and toss his trousers at him. He eases himself into them and pulls you into his chest. 

“Are you okay?”

“Better than okay.” Fives grins, craning his neck to kiss you softly on the mouth, the nose, the forehead. You stare helplessly at him, your heart suddenly quite warm, and collapse onto the bed. “Come sleep.” You pat the space beside you and watch as he slides himself in. “Never had a double?” His look of confusion is an easy tell.

“Nope.”

“Comfy?”

He turns, half buried in thick duvet and silk sheets. You can barely make out his nod but slide down beside him, tucking your head into the crook of his neck. He’s like a furnace- probably going to irritate you later in the night- but you relax against his chest.

“‘Night.”

“G’night, pretty baby.”

*

for the bbs always: @thegoodbatch @djangofetts​ @jangohshit​ @queenofheavenandhell​ 

#fives x reader #fives #arc trooper fives #arc trooper fives x reader #fives imagine #arc trooper fives imagine #fives smut #arc trooper fives smut #star wars #the clone wars #star wars smut #purely self satisfying

[sleepysnk]

Um🥺👉👈😳 can you do a Porco’s s/o gets pregnant (wrap it before you tap it buddy) scenario, college au please🥺 or Yelena relationship headcanons modern au. Whatever floats your boat🥰.

i decided to go with the Porco scenario! i honestly love writing about pregnancy, it's so cute 😔. i hope you enjoy! <3

Porco x Fem!Reader Modern AU: Accidents Happen

Warnings: Mentions of NSFW

"Porco!" (Y/N) cried out in pleasure.

He continued to thrust into her at a quick pace. "You like that (Y/N)? Tell me how good it feels.." he whispered at nipped at her ear.

The two had finally got the time to get intimate, after weeks of exams, and stress. The couple finally got to let off steam, and it was much needed right now. Porco had been so stressed, he just wanted to feel his girlfriend around his cock.

"It feels so good baby!" she yelled out as she gripped at the sheets.

Porco laughed and continued to thrust into her. "I'm getting close.." he said and looked into her eyes.

(Y/N) was beginning to feel that knot forming in her stomach. "Me too.." she replied and bucked her hips as he continued fucking her.

His thrusts started to get sloppy, and he was starting to twitch. He felt (Y/N) clench around him, she had her orgasm. He noticed how shaky her legs were, and the sight alone sent him over the edge.

(Y/N) put her arms around his neck. "Cum come on baby" she said and smirked.

Porco pulled out as he came. His white sticky cum laying on her belly, he groaned as he stroked and watched it come out of his cock. (Y/N) took one of her fingers and licked it off her stomach.

"That was much needed" he said and wiped the sweat from his brow.

(Y/N) sat up and looked at him. "Yes it was" she replied and went to the bathroom.

"I love you, you know" he said from behind the door.

She couldn't help but giggle. "I love you too Porco" she replied and finished her business.

It was late. The two decided to finally head to bed, (Y/N)'s roommate was away for the weekend with family, so the two got to do whatever they wanted.

A few weeks had gone by, and (Y/N) was starting to feel weird. She was more moody than usual, and she felt more fatigued than ever. She blamed it on stress from her classes, but it was happening too much. Porco was a bit concerned, but he didn't think too much of it.

He was currently with her at his house. The two had been kind of busy, and today he invited her to his apartment.

"How have you been?" Porco asked and pulled her hips closer to him.

She sighed. "I've been okay, just more tired than usual" she replied and looked down at him.

He nodded. "You're gonna be fine babe, trust me" he said and held her hand.

(Y/N) smiled and then felt her stomach begin to turn. "Um-" she said and covered her mouth.

She ran to the toilet. "(Y/N)!" Porco yelled as he followed her to the bathroom.

He saw her vomiting in the toilet. The sight made him very worried, what the hell was going on?

"Shit! Are you okay?" he asked and rushed over giving her a towel to wipe her face.

She coughed into the toilet. "It's been going on for a bit, maybe I have food poisoning" she replied and wiped her mouth.

Porco rubbed her back. "I think you should go to the doctor. I don't like this, it's making me worried" he said.

She sat up and flushed the toilet. "I'm fine Porco... believe me" she said and gave a reassuring smile.

He didn't necessarily believe her, he didn't like how weird she was acting. What if she was sick? He wanted to make sure she was alright, but he didn't know why she was avoiding the doctor. (Y/N) hated doctors, but whenever she was sick, Porco always took her.

"Just take some medicine okay? I'll make you something to eat" Porco said and exited the bathroom.

What the hell was going on with her?

Unfortunately, as days went on, (Y/N) didn't get any better. She was still not feeling good, sometimes she would miss her morning classes, and her friends were starting to get worried. Porco didn't know what to do. He didn't want to force her to go, she might get pissed off at him.

"You look like you've seen better days" Ymir said and sat down next to (Y/N).

Ymir was her roommate, the two had a friendship, but they weren't the closest either.

"I've just been tired and sick" she replied and looked at the cup in front of her.

Ymir raised a brow. "You've been sick for days (Y/N)... I think it's time for you to go to the doctor" she said and crossed her arms.

She chuckled. "You sound like Porco.. but I think you're right Ymir. I hate feeling this way" she replied and rubbed her eyes.

Ymir stood up. "We have a free period, let's go right now. It shouldn't take very long" she said and grabbed her car keys.

(Y/N) decided to just go. She wanted to figure out what was wrong with her, so she didn't have much of a choice. She followed Ymir out of their dorm, and went to her car.

The car ride was kind of quiet, Ymir was becoming concerned after she walking in on her roommate vomiting lunch. She wanted to be a caring friend.

"Here we are" Ymir said and parked looking at the hospital.

(Y/N) sighed. "Let's do this" she said and got out of the car.

The two entered the hospital's immediate care. Many people sat in the waiting room, (Y/N) looked around the room.

"Can I help you?" the nurse behind the corner asked with a smile on her face.

(Y/N) walked up with Ymir. "Um yes... I haven't been feeling very well lately, and I wanted to see a doctor if it's possible" she said and looked at the nurse.

She nodded. "Alright! Fill this out for me sweetie, and bring it back once your done" she replied and handed (Y/N) a clipboard.

She sat down with Ymir and began to fill out the usual stuff, which was just her personal info. It wasn't too hard, but her nerves were high. She wasn't sure what the doctor was going to tell her.

She handed the clipboard back to the nurse, and sat waiting with Ymir. "I bet you got sexy disease or something" she said and laughed a bit.

(Y/N) couldn't help but laugh. "Hell no, when I look like this?" she said and pointed at her face.

After a few people went in, she saw a nurse come out. "(Y/N)?" she called.

She stood up and followed the nurse into the back, Ymir watched as she went with her. They did the usual height, weight, blood pressure, etc.

"So what brings you in today?" the nurse asked and nodded.

(Y/N) sighed. "I haven't been feeling well, I've been sick for a few weeks" she replied.

She nodded. "Okay, what have you been experiencing? I am a bit concerned with your sudden weight loss, so have you started any new diets?" she asked.

She leaned back. "No I haven't but I've been throwing up a lot, I'm more tired, and I sleep in a lot" she replied.

The nurse looked around her body. "Alright, um I'm going to bring a doctor in, so you sit tight for me dear" she said and smiled.

(Y/N) sat there for a few moments waiting for the doctor. What was he gonna tell her?

"Hello (Y/N). My name is Doctor Smith" he said and shut the door.

She smiled. "Hello" she replied and looked at him.

Dr.Smith sat down and began to look at his laptop. "Alright, so you told the nurse that you haven't been feeling well, and you've had a sudden weight loss" he said and looked at her. "This is concerning, since you are very young" he added.

She looked around the room. "So what does it mean?" she asked.

He sighed and put on gloves. "Well... I'm going to examine your stomach, and ask a few questions. Could you lift your shirt for me and lie down?" he asked.

She nodded and lifted her shirt, which revealed her belly. The doctor began to press onto her stomach, he seemed a bit concerned.

"Are you sexually active?" he asked.

She looked at him. "Yes..." she replied.

He nodded. "Do you use protection and have you gotten your period?" he asked.

(Y/N) thought for a moment, her period was kind of late the past few days. "No and no my period hasn't come" she replied.

He removed his gloves and looked towards her. "I'm going to ask you to take a pregnancy test for me (Y/N). Your stomach muscles have softened, and your symptoms, along with your period being late could be a sign of pregnancy" he explained.

Her heart practically stopped when those words came out of his mouth. "Um.. okay" she said and looked down.

Dr.Smith took out a pregnancy test from the drawer. "Head to the bathroom, and pee onto it. Bring it back and we'll find out then" he said and handed it to her.

She hopped off the bed, and went towards the bathroom. (Y/N) was shaky as she took out the test, what was going to happen if she was pregnant? How the hell would Porco react? Would he hate her?

She peed onto the test and came back into the exam room. Those 5 minutes felt like hours, she felt her heart beating at a quick pace.

"Alright! Times up, let's see" Dr.Smith said and walked over to read the test.

He smiled. "Congratulations! You're expecting" he said and looked at her.

(Y/N) took the test and stared at the two lines that formed on the test. Her heart was racing, and she felt so scared.

What happens now?

A day had gone by, and she still hadn't told Porco. Ymir found out and told her to tell him immediately, but (Y/N) wasn't sure how to tell him. She had ignored his messages and his calls, she just didn't want to talk right now.

Porco on the other hand, was so worried. She hadn't come to class, and she was ignoring him. Was she going to break up with him? He sure hoped not.

He decided to come by her dorm. That was the only other place she could be. Porco had a key, so he just walked right in.

"(Y/N)?" he called and shut the door.

She sat on her bed staring at the ceiling, hearing Porco's voice startled her a bit. She didn't know what to do, should she tell him?

"Porco?" she said and exited her room.

He rushed to her when he saw her. "(Y/N)! Oh my gosh princess, are you okay? What's wrong?" he asked and cupped her cheek.

She felt tears beginning to welt in her eyes. "I-I.." she said and began to sob.

Porco rubbed the back of her head as he hugged her tightly. "Sh... it's okay" he said and kissed the top of her head.

"Porco... I'm sorry for ignoring you" she said in between sobs.

He looked down at her. "It's okay... what's wrong beautiful? Tell me" he asked and wiped her tears.

(Y/N) took out the pregnancy test from her pocket. "Um.. I-I'm pregnant.." she replied and held the test out to him.

Porco looked down and grabbed it. The test showed two lines, he looked at his girlfriend who was still teary eyed. She was waiting for him to get upset.

"(Y/N)... that's amazing! We're going to be parents?! Holy shit!" he yelled as he smiled at her.

She looked up a bit surprised at his reaction. "Wait you're not mad?" she asked.

He nodded. "No, not at all. (Y/N) this is exciting! I wouldn't ever be pissed. I love you" he replied and hugged her tightly.

She felt a smile grow. "I love you too Porco" she said and lied her head on his chest.

He crouched down to her belly. "I can't wait to meet you" he said and lied his head onto her belly.

She smiled at the sight. "I can't wait.." she said and rubbed his head.

#anime #attack on titan #aot x reader #aot x y/n #snk x y/n #snk x reader #aot imagines #aot fanfiction #snk imagines #snk fanfiction #shingeki no kyojin #shingeki no kyoujin fanfiction #porco galliard #anime fanfic #attack on titan fanfiction

[the-hopeless-haze]

A Dwindling, Mercurial High

Pairing: Elliot Stabler/reader

A/N: Okay so I had a dream about Stabler the other night and he’s my original SVU crush (sorry Barba) and I had “Illicit Affairs” stuck in my head the whole day after so I had to write this. Thank you to @caked-crusader​ and @detective-giggles​ for encouraging my insanity lol!

Content Warning: NSFW due to sex. Brief mentions of cases that Elliot is working on. Infidelity.

The first time you met Elliot, it was because Dickie had a bad asthma attack and had to be hospitalized overnight. You were fresh out of nursing school, more anxious than confident, and it was a night from hell in that pediatric ward, maybe the worst you’d seen in the couple months since you’d started working. The charge nurse could only start one thing before she was asked to help with something else, two nurses called out and only one could cover, and everyone had at least a three-patient assignment. Suffice it to say tensions were high on that floor, and because Dickie wasn’t the sickest of your patients, you didn’t get to see him as often as you should have. Doing your best felt akin to doing nothing, and every time you came in the room, you apologized you hadn’t been able to come in fifteen minutes ago.

Elliot and Kathy told you it was okay and that they’d been through this before and knew what to expect. But it wasn’t really okay, you knew that. No one wanted to think that their nurse was too busy taking care of other sick children to pay attention to theirs.

Needless to say, you were far too busy that night to pay much attention to Elliot that night, but it wouldn’t be the last time you saw him, so maybe it didn’t matter. Still, sometimes you want to remember that glance that started everything because you have so little to hold onto.

You nearly have a heart attack the next week when your nurse manager says an NYPD detective needs to speak with you, and you nearly have another when you see Elliot’s face. You’ll remember the glance vividly this time; you look down at the linoleum hospital floor before finally sweeping your eyes across his face. He’s not mad; you can tell he’s the kind of man who’d let you know if he was angry, so you try to still your shaking hands.

“I just wanted to let you know Dickie’s doing a lot better,” he says, the hint of a smile on his lips. “Thank you.”

“Um, you’re welcome. I’m sorry I couldn’t have been more help—"

“Don’t beat yourself up, kid. It was a madhouse in here that night. Besides, I know it was you who got the doctor to switch his meds. They’re working a lot better now. He can actually sleep through the night.”

“Well, that’s great!” you say brightly, genuinely feeling a lot better about that night now. “Did you really come out all this way just to tell me?”

He chuckles, shakes his head. “No. I’m working. Victim’s getting a rape kit done here, so I thought I’d see if I could find you while I wait.”

“Oh,” you say, your eyes widening. “What unit do you work on?”

“Special Victims. I’d say I hope I see you around, but I really don’t want my work to bring me to this floor.”

“Me neither. I sincerely hope I never see you again,” you say, smiling, and he smiles back, claps you on the shoulder and thanks you again before leaving.

“He was hot,” Tammy, your best friend on the ward, says as she comes over. “And he came back to see you. Maybe you should ask him out?”

“Well, he’s married,” you laugh. “All the DILFs are. Wives don’t wanna let that go.”

And you really thought that was that. You did have your fair share of DILFs come through that floor, and on slower shifts you’d fantasize about what it would be like to be the other woman, especially when couples would argue to the point of tears. Sure, tensions were always high when children were ill, but those screaming matches were always the result of a more systemic issue within their relationship. Some marriages were destined to fall apart, and sometimes it was exhilarating to dream about being the catalyst, even if you’d never actually act on it. No harm done in imagining yourself with a man you’d only see once in your life.

But you’d see Elliot again in a few months when his job did in fact bring him to your floor. He’s accompanied by a brunette woman, who you later learn is his partner, Olivia. You have no idea how they do their jobs. Sick kids you could handle, but children that had been abused, that were put into that hospital bed, not by the hands of a virus or disease process but by the hands of an adult... it was enough to turn your stomach. But now, at least, you had a direct line to call whenever you thought something iffy was going on between a family, as Elliot gave you his card. He said he trusts your judgment. You tried to suppress your heart fluttering. You’re too young to be having palpitations, but you can’t help staring at him longingly the whole time he’s there talking to the doctor, and you hope neither he nor Olivia notices. He just cared so much, and there’s nothing that gets the ovaries into action like seeing a man that protective over children.

You have to realize, though, that he was just being nice, and he just wanted another set of eyes out there to make sure no one got away with hurting children. You were all too happy to fill that role, anyway. It was a noble one. It had nothing to do with you specifically, and you had to be okay with that.

But fate is a funny thing, because even though you dated around throughout the next couple years, even though you had plenty of other things to occupy your time... Elliot always came back into your life somehow. Just when you thought you forgot about him, it seemed like he was waltzing onto your floor, or, god forbid, there was a child’s family you wanted him to speak to and make sure was alright.

Most times he came empty-handed and almost every time he came with Olivia, but on occasion, he’d show up by himself and with two coffees. And you grew up a little in those couple of years, even if you never grew past harboring your little crush on Elliot. You lost your anxiety that came with being a fledgling nurse and enrolled in a nurse practitioner program. You had your heart broken a few times and you broke a few hearts of your own. You moved out of your parent’s apartment and got your own place.

As for Elliot? Those years didn’t treat him as kindly. He wasn’t growing up as much as he was going down. Kathy wanted to leave him, he felt like he was losing touch with his kids, and his career path only fueled the anger that gnawed at him day after day and night after night. How the hell did his life get this fucked?

Of course, you weren’t privy to this information until he punched a hospital wall. It was a long night, and one of the children he rode on the ambulance with didn’t make it. You were upset, too, of course, even though he wasn’t your patient, and you couldn’t wait to get out of here and cry over a bottle of wine. But when Elliot’s fist connected with the wall, you knew your night was going to end much differently.

“(Y/n)! Are you busy? I need you to take your cop friend out of here. We don’t want the parents seeing that. Go! Clean up his hand and make sure he’s billed for that wall,” the doctor barks at you. “You gonna move?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m on it, Doc,” you murmur, but you’re frozen in place at the nurse’s station. You can’t help staring at Elliot as he steps out of the room, with his chest heaving, his hand bloodied, his blue eyes ablaze. Eventually, your legs cooperate with you again, and you nod at him, motioning for him to follow you down the hallway. You grab some gauze and alcohol from the supply closet on the way and lead him into an empty room, taking his hand in yours. “Can you make a fist for me? I need to see if it’s broken.”

Elliot doesn’t say anything; he barely even looks at you, but he does as you ask.

“Okay. Good. You're just gonna be a little sore. You can relax it now. The alcohol is going to sting—“

“I know,” he says hollowly.

“I’m sorry. You’re the oldest patient I’ve had since I was in school,” you say, feeling your face flush as you grab the alcohol and wipe his knuckles. "This isn't the first time you've attacked a wall, then, hm?"

Elliot shoots you a withering look and you swallow thickly. Was he going to yell at you now? Thankfully, he sighs and the anger in his eyes fades. "Listen. I'm sorry you had to be here for that.”

"It's alright. I've seen worse. And I know it's tough, Elliot," you say. "Everyone handles grief differently."

"It ever get any easier for you?"

"No," you whisper, letting your hair fall in front of your eyes so he can't see them well up with tears as you lean over to bandage his hand. "Guess it never does. I don't get angry; I just get depressed. You don't want to get desensitized to it, though. I'd rather see people punch walls than not care."

Your breath catches in your throat as he pushes your hair back with his good hand, and he keeps it there on the side of your cheek. All this time, in the four years of knowing this man, and he'd never touched you like this. Come to think of it, you never exactly stood this close to him, either. Your relationship was always professional, despite all the times you wished it wasn't. Wasn't there a reason you two kept ending up in the same rooms? Wasn't there a reason you ended up in this one, alone? And you could get drunk off his scent, couldn’t you? The slight musk of sweat from his earlier exertion, the woodsy headiness of his cologne, the hint of spearmint on his breath from his mouthwash... it was all too much, and it’s all you have in you to not lean into his touch, to not lean over and press your mouth to his...

“Elliot—“

"Don't talk," he murmurs. "Unless you want to stop me. Do you?”

You wouldn’t dare.

When your lips finally do connect, it's electric, even though the only thing running through the back of your mind is how you'd probably be fired if anyone stepped into the room at this moment. You can't very well deny yourself what you've been wanting on and off for years, though, even if it’s wrong. His hands grab your waist and yours find purchase on his shoulders, feeling the muscles flex underneath you as he moves you to straddle his thigh. You have to try very hard not to search for that friction your whole body aches for, not yet, not when you don’t know how far he wants to take this and when you’re still on the clock.

“When do you get off?” he asks, and you both chuckle at the unintended double-entendre.

“At eleven.”

“Come have a drink with me.”

“I don’t want a drink. I want to continue this,” you purr, getting off his lap to fix the bandage and tape it down.

“You sure?”

“Elliot, I thought you’d never ask me. I would’ve been sure four years ago,” you say, feeling slightly guilty at that, but it was true. The more you saw of him without his wife and children the easier it was to forget that they were the reason you met him in the first place. And if at any time he kissed you like that? You know you’d be putty in his hands just like you were now. “You don’t need to go back to the precinct?” You don’t dare ask about home. Selfishly, you don’t want that to cross his mind.

“I’ll be back here by eleven.”

It’s another breathless kiss before you’re out the door, heading back to finish your shift.

“The hell are you all red for, (y/n)?” Tammy asks as you round the corner.

“Nothing,” you say. “Just ran up here. You need anything?”

“Ran up here? Weren’t you taking care of... oh. You’re playing with fire, girl,” she says, smirking.

“Shut up,” you say, but you can’t force your cheeks to cool down. “Nothing happened.”

“Mm. Be careful. He’s still married, isn’t he?”

You wouldn’t listen. You were only after chasing that high, even if it was only born to die in front of your eyes. —- You’re straining against your handcuffs, and you can’t see Elliot at all through the blindfold, but you can feel his hands and his mouth, hot and heavy, touching you everywhere. You have no clue where to focus, and you still can’t quite believe he’s here in your apartment. Part of you expected him to stand you up and realize that he should be going home instead of taking you to bed. But he either didn’t have that epiphany or he didn’t care - and you were desperate enough for him that you’d take either - and so began your first illicit meeting.

“I told you to stop pulling at those, baby,” Elliot says, his tone stern. “You’re going to make yourself bleed.”

“Maybe if you gave me what I wanted, I wouldn’t have to—“

He cuts you off with a firm kiss, and you can feel his cock hard against your thigh, and not being able to see only heightens the sensation. “You gonna give me attitude, baby? I don’t think so. Why don’t you relax? I’m gonna take care of you. Gonna take my time though. Been four years of seeing your ass in those tight scrubs and not being able to do fucking anything about it.”

“You noticed me…. Like that?”

“You think I’d be here if I didn’t? Don’t act innocent now. You know what you do to me.”

Of course, you had noticed him looking at you sometimes, but you never let yourself read into it, but now, everything was coming back to you and… oh, fuck, finally he slips two fingers into your entrance and you’re drawn out of your thoughts, arching your back as he drags his fingers across your walls, painstakingly slow.

“You’re fucking soaking, baby girl,” he grunts. “You think you can take three? Mm. Gonna stretch you out a little.”

His bandaged hand comes to still your hips and you can’t believe he’s fucking you this good with his non-dominant hand, his thumb flicking against your clit every so often, those little shocks of pleasure bringing you closer to the million little deaths you deserved. Sometimes you’d feel his mouth where you’d least expect it, too, his tongue licking a trail up your stomach to take your nipple in his mouth or his teeth and tongue working on leaving a mark on your collarbone.

“Please. So close, El,” you pant, rolling your hips in vain.

“That’s it, that’s it, that’s it, come on, let go, baby,” Elliot growls in your ear. “Just let go.”

And you do, falling apart with his name on your lips before he kisses you again, swallowing down all your moans and whimpers, his hands leaving your lower body to find purchase in your hair.

“You good?” he asks, barely pulling away from your mouth.

“So good,” you gasp, straining upward to press your lips to his again.

“Gonna fuck you now, baby, that okay?”

“More than okay.”

You’re so wet he doesn’t meet much resistance, but you’re still sensitive from your orgasm so soon before, and combined with the fact that you can’t see or touch him - it was almost too much at once.

“Oh fucking hell,” Elliot grunts. “You good?”

“Yes. Please start fucking moving,” you whine. “Fuck me hard.”

You can tell he needs that; he needs to let go of all his pent-up anger and frustration, and you didn’t really care if at the expense of that you couldn’t walk tomorrow. You’d do anything, anything for just the chance to occupy a sliver of his life.

And God, once given permission, he doesn’t hold back at all. He sets a brutal pace, the bed shaking and moving in tandem with the force of his thrusts. You can’t see him, obviously, but you can feel the weight on the bed shift and his angle change as he grips the headboard, driving into you so roughly you think you might black out. He starts grunting softly with every thrust, and then, oh - you feel him move back down, his lips catching yours and his hands cupping your breasts and it’s all you can do to fight with your body not to come yet; you want to come with him, experience this high together.

“Fuck, (y/n), so good,” he groans, his tongue running over the bruise he’d sucked onto your skin earlier, and you whimper in response. “So fucking good for me, taking my cock so good. Knew you’d be fucking amazing.”

If his dirty talk wasn’t enough to send you over the edge, well, he adjusts his angle with a particularly strong thrust of his hips and you’re pulling on the handcuffs again, the sting as they slice into your wrists a sharp contrast to the impending pleasure - if you could just hold on - and thankfully, Elliot’s panting brusquely in your ear that he’s close, that you should let go again. Coming together is a beautiful euphoria - one that was desperately needed after the night you had, after the four years of longing stares that neither of you, apparently, knew was reciprocated until now. But like the end of all highs, you have to come down at some point. Elliot lifts the blindfold and looking into his eyes for the first time since he stripped you naked, you can’t help but feel like a fucking mess. But you know you’d do it again, and again, and again...

“I told you not to pull at those,” he tsks, leaning over to unlock the handcuffs and free your wrists. “You’re bleeding, (y/n).”

And, like some bad deja vu, Elliot’s cleaning your wounds with alcohol like you did for him only hours prior.

And after, he stays and talks with you a little, mentions vaguely his marriage is going downhill, which you could have easily figured out yourself, and when you wake up in the morning, he’s gone without a trace. You had to expect that he couldn’t stay, and you wonder what lie he fed his wife. You wonder if she believed it. Was this just a one time thing? Maybe you just both needed to get this out of your system, as almost half a decade of sexual tension needed to be dealt with somehow.

But no. Like always, you see him again, and on most occasions, now, he ends up tangled in your bedsheets. It feels like you’re always competing with other women for Elliot’s attention, whether it be Kathy or Olivia. But you take solace in the fact that you’re the only one he’s going to fuck like this. Olivia’s his partner, and that relationship is already too close for comfort to bring sex into. And if he came home with handcuffs and a blindfold to his wife, she’d drag his ass to therapy. You’re the only woman in his life that he can use for this, and that thought alone could get you high, could get you off. And sometimes, that feels like all he’s using you for, a sense of release for the moments when he doesn’t want to be at home and he can’t be at work. But other times - he lets you in, tells you jokes, tells you stories - and in some ways you’ve never felt this close to another person. He played such a different role in all the other areas of his life - but with you - he didn't have to play one, and sometimes you caught a glimpse of the man he was before all his burdens were placed onto his shoulders. You know you’ll never have a relationship like this with anyone else.

And for that reason, you’ll always answer the phone when he calls, even if you ruin yourself every time. You would for him. You always would for him.

#elliot stabler x reader #elliot stabler #svu fanfiction #law and order svu #law and order special victims unit #law and order: special victims unit #law & order svu #idk man don't ask me #the cogs just started turning and idk #i don't think he'd ever cheat on kathy lol but fuck it

[sashi-ya]

{+18} - Law x Fem Best Friend ♥ CH.2

♥ Daily living with the Heart pirates crew AU  ♥ Spoilers after Dressrosa Arc. Law´s backstory.  ♥ Female reader. Little physical description. Everybody is 18+, canon ages.  ♥ TW: Nightmares related to PTSD. Little NSFW. no further warnings. If you think I should include some feel free to tell me ♥Thank you for the likes and follows, I appreciate it them so so much! If you wanna know when I’ll be updating the next chapters, you can follow me on Twitter @LawIsMyWaifu, come interact I love to have mutuals that love Law and One Piece as much as I do ♥

Word count: 4.1K

» List of parts: {CH1}  {CH2}  {CH3}  {CH4} {CH5} «

Chapter 2.

The sound of his low, raspy voice resonated all over my head, making my body react instantly. I gasped as I felt a strike of pleasure travelling down my stomach to in between my legs. Closing my eyes, unable to move, I didn’t want to move, I wanted him to keep whispering, to kiss my neck… “Hahahaha, I’m sorry, I’m just fooling around, your face, you look astonished Y/N-ya”, he said while laying back on the bed, laughing. I chuckled as I stood up brushing my clothes as if I was trying to fix them. “Stop it, I’m not into that you ass. Goodnight”, I said trying to dissimulate how agitated and embarrassed I was.

Almost running, I left the room, directly to mine, holding on my hand my underwear. I jumped to my bed resting violently on my back. “WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?” ... a little time passed until I passed out.

Hard knocks on my door woke me up. “Vice-Captain!! wake up! breakfast is ready!!!” Clione shouted from the corridor. “God damn how many times I have to tell this whole crew I fucking hate being awakened with shouting?” I mumbled annoyed, covering my face with the sheets.

I was brushing my hair when I remembered my “memory box” for some reason. Opened my drawer and found the little velvet red box that holds my “treasures”. Inside, there is a photo of my parents with me when I was 7, happy, eating some ice cream with them. It was taken during one of “the white parades”, on Flevance, before everything turned into hell. A little blue bow that my little sister used to wear, some photos of Law, Bepo, Shachi, Penguin and me when we were the only members of our crew. And, a necklace Law made with some seashells as a gift for my 15th birthday, were also inside.

I got watery eyes while looking at it, “I must be getting old”, I thought, “I got emotional over the memories” ... laughed and put everything back to its place.

“Morning..” I said, greeting the whole crew that was already devouring their breakfast. I noticed Law wasn’t there, so I had to ask. Uni told me he was in the control room preparing for the arrival at the next island. I took a few pancakes and some tea and headed to the control room to ask my captain if he needed help.

“Good morning, doc”, I saluted him. Law that was seated facing the controls, turned the chair to look at me nodding. He has more dark circles as always, so I asked him, “Oi, did you sleep last night? are you feeling sick again?”. “I’m ok, I didn’t get much sleep last night. I got caught up with the book I was reading”, he answered with his usual unfriendly tone. “Yeah, right” I answered back, rolling my eyes, and proceeded “Let me know if you need something before we get to the island”.  Left the control room and went back to my room.

I knew him well to know he hadn't slept because something was worrying him, and not because he was reading the old comic book of “Sora, the warrior of the sea against the evil Germa 66”. But hey, Law never shows any emotion besides annoyance if he is not sick.

A few hours later, the submarine got to the shore of some winter island, and we all got ready to accomplish our assigned tasks.  “Ok everyone, we will meet here at 7 pm, is that clear?” told my crew members, everybody agreed and headed to the island.

The temperature was pretty low, and it was snowing. Law was wearing the long black coat with yellow dots and our Jolly Roger that he used to wear at Punk Hazard, his hat and of course the Kikoku over his shoulder. I love when he wears warm clothing, he looks so cozy, hiding his mouth behind the collar. (He does it so his lips don’t get chapped with the cold breeze, haha).  I don't like to wear the boiler-suit when we get to explore islands, so I decided to wear a long yellow coat with a hood, also with our crew's Jolly Roger emblazoned on the left side of the chest.

We asked a few civilians where to find a pharmacy and headed to the destination following their instructions. Law didn’t say much during the walking, as he normally does.

The island seemed a little bit deserted, yet it had picturesque streets, full of colour that stand out from the snow.  It has cobbled lanes, some canals of crystallized water, there were wooden houses and shops with little lights that garnished their architecture giving the place a romantic aura. The scenery behind the city center included big snowed mountains and a big castle over one of the highest peaks.

I saw a boutique with some cute sweaters on display that caught my eyes and I wanted to try them on. “Law, would you mind if I enter here? I want to buy a new sweater.”, I said. Law looked at me and made a gesture with his hand as he was saying to go ahead.

While searching for the sweater I like on one of the clothing racks I saw through the shop window that a few kids approached the captain. The seller asked me if I needed some help, so I stopped looking at him and l directed my gaze to the girl in the shop. So, I forget about him.

After buying two cute pullovers, we continued walking through the picturesque streets.

When we finally arrived at the pharmacy shop, it seemed like it was closed, but the door was open, so we entered. I rang the bell over the counter and waited for someone to show up. Law walked in front of me and had his hand over his sword. I knew he was alert and trying to protect me even if he didn’t say a word. I didn’t think we could be in danger, yet he never fully relaxes when we are outside. After all, he is one of the most wanted pirates of our generation, so it's understandable he trusts no stranger.

After a minute or so, an old lady approached the counter from the inside of the store. She seemed a little weak and perhaps a little sick. She coughed, covering her mouth with a handkerchief, and then greeted us. “Good afternoon, how can I help you?”, she asked. Law handed her a list of supplies we needed, and we waited. “Oi, don’t you think she looks bad? I mean, she is probably sick, should I ask if she is ok?”, I told Law who gave me a disapproving sight. I rolled my eyes, and said, “Fiiiine…”, “You know that I hate you rolling your eyes at me, you did it yesterday and now too. Stop it.” I looked at him with an “excuse me?” face and while I was about to spit an insult to him the granny appeared. “I’m sorry, I put on the bag some of the supplies, but I don’t have everything you need. We are short on medicines'', she informed us and started coughing harder. “Excuse me, Mrs. Are you alright? are you sick?”, I asked as she seemed to lose composure from all the nagging coughing. Law, that hated when I don’t give a fuck about what he had just said, gave me the look of death. “Oh young lady, we are pretty much sick, a strange illness is hitting the island. Even the only doctor in town fell ill. The orphanage, though, is getting the worst part. All of the kids are bedridden”, as she said, the memories of Flevance and the amber lead disease hit me.

Law's expression changed to a more compassionate one and asked about the symptoms they were experiencing. He might be serious, he might not want to get involved in a lot of things, but he is a true doctor. And he can't let people die if he can help.

We decided to visit the orphanage in hopes of helping the sick people, so we asked the old lady to give us directions to it. She said it was pretty far from the city center and told us her husband would take us there with his cart.

"Thank you so much for offering your help, young doctors", said the old lady's husband that later told us his name was Gerald. The cart was pulled by two brown percheron horses that opened their way through the white landscape.

We had a small talk during the journey, until Gerald asked, "how long have you been together? Are you already married?". Despite the freezing cold weather, my cheeks turned to fire, and I could sense Law hiding his head even more into his coat and hat. Almost as if clarifying that we were no couple was a life or death situation I said, "WE ARE JUST BEST FRIENDS!". I realized I almost shouted and felt mortified. Gerald looked at us with a little smirk and kind eyes, excusing himself for the mistake.

A few minutes after we arrived at the orphanage. It took us almost 30 minutes to get there and the sun was starting to set on the horizon.

When we entered the place, the situation was worse than we thought. There were kids and adults lying on the ground, some of them shivering, others coughing while others were straight unconscious. A few nurses were working in order to maintain them, but the situation had clearly surpassed them.

Immediately Law and I started working. While I helped the nurses, Law used his ope ope no mi power to scan the bodies of the sick people.

We got to the conclusion that what they were suffering was a type of bacteria that caused the respiratory symptoms and the fever.

During our duty, there were times when our eyes interlocked, and we smiled at each other. I wouldn't say we like people suffering, but, we certainly enjoyed working to save lives together.

A few hours passed since we arrived there, the sun was already set, and outside it seemed as if a snowstorm was beginning. I've lost track of time until my portable Den Den Mushi started to ring. "Oi, y/n, where are you? Is Law with you? Are you alright? We've been waiting for you on the shore! It's 9 pm already and we were supposed to meet at 7!", shouted Shachi from the other side of the line. "Oh my God I'm sorry I forgot to tell you!... you see …" I explained to them what we've been doing and that we were probably not going to return to the submarine in a few more hours.

The kids and the other people began to get better and those who were helping there offered us some food that we accepted happily.

While we were having dinner, Gerald got back from outside, who's been in the forest collecting some firewood. He informed us that the weather was getting really bad so coming back to town would be pretty dangerous.

Law and I agreed that staying there for the night was the safer choice.

One of the nurses, Sister Alley, told us we could spend the night in the cabin next to the orphanage. "I'm really sorry guys, I wished we had a better place for you, we owe you so much. The cabin has a fireplace, Gerald would start a fire to keep you warm”, she said. We both smiled at her and thanked for it.

We walked some meters through the forest until we started to catch sight of a wooden cabin. Despite being a strong pirate, I’m the queen of the clumsy people, so I slipped off with what I assume was an ice patch on the already snowy ground. I was about to hit the ground when Law grabbed me by the waist and saved me from a few bruises. His face in front of mine, the feeling of being safe on his arms, I wished it has been eternal. But the romantic moment was destroyed by Law mocking me. “It must be the devil fruit; how come you are so clumsy? Be careful”, he said, and I told him to shut up, this time I wasn’t embarrassed, but I was almost angry at him.

“Here we are, let me help you with the fire”, Gerald said, opening the wood door that creaked as it moved. The inside felt cozy, there were a few cushions and pillows on the ground next to the fireplace. There were no separate rooms, so in the middle of the lounge there was some kind of mattress with a few blankets over it. Our “host” asked for forgiveness about the lack of separate beds, but Law intercepted him and said, “It’s ok sir, we are grateful to have a warm place to stay until tomorrow. If you need help with any patient during the night, just please tell us”. It might be ok for you, damn Law. Was I supposed to sleep with him? - I mean, I wanted to, but, he was still my best friend, and those thoughts should have been erased.

Gerald wished us a good night and returned to the main building.

I hung my coat and as I love to explore, I started to do so around the little wooden house. The kitchen seemed really equipped, so I grabbed a kettle and some cups. Gerald was kind enough to give us some tea bags, so I thought making some tea was a great idea.

Law was next to the fireplace, wearing only a sweater and his jeans. Apparently he has already hung up his coat and his white spotted hat. I saw him once more with a lost sight that seemed to contemplate the firewood.

Looking at him with my face resting on my arm that was over the breakfast nook, I got lost worshiping his profile. I’ve always adored his upturned nose, his spiky black hair, his facial hair, the contrast between his grey eyes and the tanned skin. How come he has always been so handsome, but I’ve never seemed to fully realize?.

The whistle of the kettle intensified as the water started boiling, but I was so into admiring my best friend's beauty that I didn’t notice. Law turned to me and woke me up from my reverie shouting “Oi, Y/N, the kettle!”. My stupid smile quickly erased from my face, and my whole skin turned red. “Sorry”, I said straight away and turned off the burner.

I served two cups, noticing that the tea has an amazing scent. I believe it was hibiscus mixed with some other spices, perhaps some cardamom and maybe a little hint of clover. The smell of the tea mixed with the slightly one from the logs burning, was wonderful.

I walked to where my captain was, “Here, I think you may like it”, I said and handed him a cup. Our fingers brushed softly when grabbed the tea, he looked at me and said “Thanks”. I sat not so near him over one of the cushions and sipped a little bit of my tea. Law looked at me and stood up from his place. I could sense how awkward he felt when he made a little pause, and then walked away.

Why is he leaving? Did I make him feel uncomfortable?, I asked myself trying to hide little stings of pain on my chest that traveled to my throat. Somehow I felt like crying, and when my eyes started to get slightly watery, Law approached me placing his hand over my right shoulder.

I turned my face to him, looking up with a slightly pouty face. I was about to cry, and I didn’t even know why when I noticed a blue little box on his hand.

He sat next to me and said, "Do you remember when we were 15?, that day when I gave you that necklace I made myself for your birthday? I looked at him confused but I answered, "yes, of course, I got it on my memory box, I'm afraid to wear it outside the polar cause it might get lost and I wouldn't forgive myself if I lose it". He was now looking at the little box moving it around nervously and finally said "I got you a better one". He handed me the little box still not looking at me.

"A present?? OMG Law, thank you very much!" When did you buy it??" I almost shouted in excitement while opening the box. Inside there was a fine rose gold necklace that has a little anatomical heart figure as a pendant. I grabbed it and admired the beauty of the jewelry I had in my hands. The heart had a little red stone crimped on it, that shined with every movement.

"Law, this is too much! It must have cost you a lot of Berries, I don't deserve such a fine jewel!, thank you so much", I expressed with a big smile on my face.

"You do deserve more than this, you know. I'm glad you like it", he said, a little embarrassed. “When you were buying the sweaters, I asked some children there if they knew a jewelry store, turned out it was just around the corner”, he confessed.

“Thank you so much, it is just perfect! You know how I adore hearts; they remind me of you.. “Doctor Heart Stealer”” I almost shouted, realizing I have said too much…

I tried to put it on my neck, but I couldn’t clip it right, so I asked him for help. He stood up, kneel at my back and passed from behind the necklace around my neck.

Some branches hit the window violently as they were suffering the merciless wind of the snowstorm outside.

He struggled a little and finally fastened the collar and when he did, the electric power went off. The fireplace was the only source of light, the dance of the fire created figures with shadows and highlights all around the walls of the cabin. We remained silent, maybe a little scared or even surprised, but enjoying the sound of the weather and the creak of the fire.

He was still behind me, and after a few seconds he placed a soft kiss on my back that sent a shiver through my spine. Once again I was unable to speak, did he… did he just kiss my back?.. Before I could say or do something Law stood up and headed to one of the windows. “The storm seems to be even worse than earlier; don’t you think?”, he said, trying to device something through the window.

I couldn’t focus on anything else than the kiss he softly planted on my nape, minutes ago.  He suddenly yawned and walked to the mattress that was in the center of the room, on the floor. He then took his jeans off and hopped inside the bed, naturally. I remained on my spot, contemplating his actions. “How could he be acting so normal?, I’m right here. He just gave me a necklace, kissed my skin and now he just goes to sleep?” I said to myself, still with a confused expression on my face.

“Oi, aren’t you coming to bed?”, he asked me, freely. “Yes… give me a second”, I said, and ran to the bathroom. The toilet was pretty tiny and basic, but enough for me to hide for a few minutes. “Come on, Y/N you slept with him two nights ago, it’s ok, he is like your brother, it’s ok…” I thought, trying to calm myself down.

I finally left my hiding place and headed to the mattress. Law was lying there, he took off his sweater, probably while I was in the bathroom, so he was only using a white tight undershirt, that molded his torso anatomy. Some blankets were covering the under part of his body from his hips. He had his forearm over his eyes, covering them with his neck stretched back.

I bite my lip, as a reaction for such a tempting scene. I was enjoying it, watching him breathe peacefully. I started feeling hot, so I took off the sweater but not my jeans and approached the “bed”.

I thought Law was already asleep, so I got in bed trying not to wake him up. I muffled myself up with the sheets. I remained still, hearing the snowstorm, fixing my eyes on the wooden ceiling, as the memories of my childhood flooded my mind. It must be the snowstorm, the wind, the cold that triggered these memories. eventually I fell asleep.

“No, stop it, my family, leave us alone!!!!”, I screamed. “Y/n-ya! Y/n-ya!, wake up!” said Law, pulling me out from the terrific oneiric world I was submerged in. I got lost into his eyes, and remained there with tears streaming from my eyes, rolling into my cheeks. Law was holding me close to his body around his arms. “Are you having those nightmares, again? why didn’t you tell me?”, he asked, worried. “This is the first time in ages, I think it must be the storm, perhaps the orphanage, the children…”, I expressed amid tears. My best friend brushed his tattooed fingers through my hair, moving it out of my face, and then wiped the tears from my cheeks.

“Oi, do you remember what happened when I gave you the first necklace?” he asked, trying to distract me. A feeling of warmth invaded my insides, suddenly I felt happy. “I do...” I said, laughing timidly, and continued, “It was my first kiss”. He smiled back at me, and said, “Mine too”.

For a second we both closed our eyes. I was grabbing the pendant with my left hand cherishing it and the memories of our younger days when we kissed for the first time. We haven't had much time to think about love while striving to survive so we forgot about it, letting the days, months and years pass, leaving the experience as a mere child’s play.

Suddenly we started laughing, Law didn't let go of me, and our faces were pretty close. “Everything's better when you laugh, I hate it when you cry, it makes me so sad…” he said, rubbing his thumb over my right cheek. I stopped laughing, as he got even closer. Almost as if the point of our noses were about to touch. I could feel the warmth of his breath over my lips, and he did too. My heart started racing, and the only thing I could hear was the blood pumping on my ears. I wasn’t moving, I wanted him to kiss me, I wanted to kiss him… I just didn’t care that he was my best friend, I just needed him to kiss me.  What is taking him so long? Why am I not moving if I wanted this more than anything?. After a good minute, that felt eternal, he exclaimed “Fuck it”, and plant the sweetest kiss over my lips. A feeling of happiness filled my insides, I’ve never been so joyful in ages, it felt the same way as the first time. I was like a teenage girl experimenting love for the first time. Both smiled still with our lips pressed. I doubted for a second if succumbing to my deepest desires was the right thing to do until he decided to turn the cute kiss into a more passionate one. From then on, the desire I’d been accumulating inside of me took control of my body…

We kept on kissing; Law slid a hand under my shirt timidly caressing the skin of my tummy. The kisses migrated from my mouth to my neck, mixed with little bites that surely would turn into hickies tomorrow.

“Law…” I gasped when his hands reached my breasts. “What?” he replied, whispering next to my ear and pinching one of my nipples in between two fingers…

Chapter 3

Ch1: Link

#Trafalgardwaterlaw #one piece law #law x reader #trafalgar d law x reader #Trafalgar law x reader #one piece x reader

[poptod]

Congrats for finishing ur exams! Hope u have time for relaxing in summer :) if u take ficreqs & this is topic ur comfortable writing for I'll have an ask: Kenny having/going thru some body image issues (it came to my mind when in season 2 he was going out w/Dylan he was fussing w/his shirt & being like is it too tight etc.)

Notes: thank u!! honestly its kinda nice to b able to project my own eating disorders on a fictional character lmao. thats twisted as fuck of me. warnings: eating disorders, homophobia, the whole rundown lmao. the reader in this is kind of dumb as fuck but well-informed so do with that what you will WC: 1.4k

+

It happened over the summer.

No one else noticed, but you did. He stopped wearing his big shirts, and the smaller ones now hung over his frame in wrinkles too big for his body. His jaw strengthened, his eyes steely, and his words remained sweet, if not awkward, as ever.

You've talked to him a couple times, but never for long, and his interactions with teenagers as popular as you are are limited and uncomfortable. On his part, he doesn't really know you personally––only as a sort of monarch to a high school. This image of you leaves him stuttering as you trap him against the lockers, surrounded by the silence of a vacant school.

"Wh - what are you –"

"Quiet," you say, glancing up to meet his frantic gaze.

The heat of his stomach moving with rough breaths warms your hands, sliding up his shirt to pull away the fabric and reveal the bare skin. His ribs are showing. From experience you know they didn't use to, but you can't deny the excitement that rushes through you at the sight of his thin waist unobstructed by clothing.

"How'd you lose weight?" You ask, withdrawing your hands from his midsection while keeping him stuck between lockers and you. You had never claimed to be anything but straightforward, almost violently so.

He shifts his weight on his feet, shoulders tensing till they reach his ears.

"Why do you care? You don't even know me," he says with a glare focused on the floor beside you.

"Your name is Khaleel but everyone calls you Kenny because people are dickbags, and you're always hanging out with that Larry kid. And I know for a fact you weren't this skinny," you say, tugging the belt of his loose pants to peer down.

"Don't," he grits out, and he writhes in your grasp, attempting to escape.

Seeing his discomfort, you withdraw your hand once more, and look him in the eye.

"I've seen things like this before," you say, boring into the soul behind his own eyes. "I've been this thing before. Tell me how you did it."

"I..." he pauses, searching your expression for any give in your request, before he gives up with a sigh. "I stopped eating meals for a week."

"Why?" You ask in a much softer tone than your previous, your fingers brushing over his unsteady hands.

"I hate how I look," he admits in a broken voice, eyes tinted red as tears form on the edges. "I'm sick of being unattractive and unwanted. I just wanted to be appealing to someone, for once."

"You're wanted," you say, beginning with a much-needed assurance. "High school is absolute ass and everything that happens in it has nearly no affect on your life. You're going to grow up, and you're going to find cities full of people who want to kiss you. The effects of purposeful starvation on your body and mind are not worth this temporary conformity to the American beauty standard."

Now he just looks confused. You sigh, exasperated by kids who don't seem to get your line of thinking pertaining to society and its expectations of adults and teenagers.

"This is such a small part of your life that can be so deeply enjoyed if you do it right. Don't ruin it with this," you say, and your own voice cracks, strained by the tension stuck in your throat. "You're never going to be skinny enough for this disease. Not even if you're ten pounds."

These words––they're all birthed by what you wish someone had told you. What would've stopped you from doing this to yourself.

The tears long building round his eyes fall at last, creating streams down his cheeks that he covers up by hiding his face in his hands. He falls into you, leaning his weight on your body, and hiding his face (which is still hidden in his hands) in the crook of your neck. Knuckles of his fingers dig into the sensitive skin there, but it is no hard task to ignore it.

You wrap your arms around the boy, holding him tight to you and running your fingers through his hair. Chest to chest, hips to hips, legs nearly stepping over one another. Muffled sobs wrack his weakened shoulders.

"I know," you whisper. It's all the sound you can manage. "It's alright. I know."

"I just wanna be wanted," he chokes out, shifting to hide himself deeper in your touch.

"You already are," you say in a hum, turning to kiss his temple.

"No," he says, shaking his head. "No, no, my parents don't even want me. No one does."

"What do you mean your parents don't want you?" You ask as a deep concern settles itself within you.

He won't pull away, and as much as you want to see his expressions, you know he needs your touch more than anything in this moment.

"I haven't seen them in weeks, they won't let me back into the house. I don't know what I did wrong. I don't..." he trails off as a new burst of tears shivers throughout his body, weakening his already frail limbs.

"They kicked you out?" You ask.

"... yeah," he says, sniffing.

His hands finally leave his tear-covered face, and he wraps them around you as tight and close as he can, shifting his head to the side to truly lie on your shoulder, with his nose nudging your neck. His hands cling to the back of your shirt, nails almost digging into your back as his tears soak your shoulder.

"Adults aren't infallible," you say, your own words now muffled as your chin rests on the crest of his head. "One day they'll realize their mistake, and they'll want you more than anything."

He goes quiet for a while, still sniffling, before he says in a trembling voice, "but I want to be desired now. I don't understand why no one wants me."

"I actually know for a fact that someone in the school very much wants you," you say without hesitation. You can't be the only one who sees how sweet this guy is.

"Really?" He sniffs and pulls away, but his hands linger on your waist. "Who?"

Your mind pulls a blank before it hits you like a trainwreck––it's you. You're the one that wants him. Maybe you are the only one to see him at all, and that realization leaves you stumped. Could you so plainly tell him? Would that be taking advantage of him in his state?

Whatever, you think, still staring blankly ahead as Kenny awaits your answer. This guy needs a pick-me-up.

"It's... me," you say in your most awkward voice since middle school. You cringe inwardly. It's like you're giving him bad news.

His mouth falls open, and he stares at you like you're the only thing to look at in the whole world.

"With..." he jabs himself in the chest with his own finger as he points to himself, ".. me?"

"That is what I just said, yes," you say, nodding.

He tries to stutter out a sentence, something along the lines of why, and you hardly want to hear what he has to say. None of it is going to be true. It's all muck about him not being worth it, and as he grows more frantic, you know you have to calm him down yourself.

Your eyes shut and you lean in blindly, having memorized his face from lunches spent staring at him from a table across the room. Lips mould to his and the words fizzle out, devolving into soft whines as the tail end of his sobbing dies out, suffocated by his first kiss.

He leans into you once more, resting his unsure hands gingerly upon your shoulders. You take his wrists, never parting from his lips as you pull him nearer, till his elbows rest on your shoulders and he holds you closer than before. When his hands tangle into your hair unprompted, you hum, fall, and pin him back against the lockers.

"Hey!"

Someone is shouting at you from down the hallway. You sigh and part from him, turning with a blasé look to meet one of the teachers.

"No making out in the hallway," she scolds but says nothing more, continuing to walk into the next room.

You turn back to Kenny and he's bright red, looking horrified with himself.

"Oh my God," he whispers out as his hands shake ever so slightly.

"It's alright," you murmur, too close to him to stand anything else. You kiss his forehead before you continue, "it's not a big deal. It's alright."

You pull away, looking him in the eye as you say, "come to my house?"

He hesitates.

"I'll make you something to eat. You don't have to eat a lot," you offer.

"... yeah," he says, and nods, looking up to meet your eye. "Yeah, that sounds nice."

#kenny al bahir x reader #kenny al bahir #rami malek #rami malek character #the war at home

[tobi-momo]

hanahaki

Pairing: Kirishima x GN!Reader

Warnings: Hanahaki disease, blood, throwing up, choking, gagging, the whole jist.

a/n: this was super fun to make! requests are open! you can also just talk to me uwu

Myth. It's a myth. It isn't real. The petals and flowers falling from your mouth aren't real. The thorns scratching your throat and the blood spilling from your lips aren't real. It's all a myth. Then why does it feel like your heart gets ripped out of your chest each time? It was so hard not being able to tell him, not being able to seek out the comfort you needed. You just wanted him to be happy. But it hurt so badly that you couldn't be the one he was happy with. You couldn't help but feel that pain every time you crouched over the toilet, clutching the seat as if your life depended on it while you cough and gag, emptying your agony. You had come to terms that you were never going to be with him. He was your best friend, and he had someone who could make him happy. Someone that wasn't you. But as the petals make their way up your throat, choking you, making you claw at your neck as if it was an itch, you couldn't help but feel...misery. It had become a normal thing for you to ditch him to take your trip to the restroom, as you would never admit to him that you were feeling like this.  Interactions between you two would be short; you would always find an excuse to leave before you completely embarrassed yourself in front of him. He was spending more time with his girlfriend, Sayaka. They had met a couple months ago at a class trip 1-A was taking as a short and sweet vacation to relieve stress. And it did, for the most part. You and Kirishima were stuck at the hip, having sleepovers and little parties together even without the rest of your friends with you two. That was, until he met Sayaka at the mall you and the rest of the class went to for the process of blowing off steam. Ever since then he'd stopped doing everything with you, and started doing everything with her. She was your replacement. No, she was better than your replacement. He finally found someone he could be happy with, and here you are, throwing your guts up and more because you were stupid and fell in love. Even when your stomach, lungs and throat were drained, when you had nothing left to give, you tended to gag a couple extra times after; the bits of flower, irritating the back of your mouth. How the fuck did you end up here? ._._._._._._._._._._._._._._. The next day you were just as exhausted and dead inside as you were yesterday. Everyday passed with you thinking about your lost love with Kirishima. You were drained. You were weary, empty. Your skin had lost a lot of color these past few weeks, and you started to slump over when walking. Everyone around you could tell something was wrong, but no one seemed to press when you said you were fine. Even Kirishima had noticed. He was worried, to say the least, and he needed to know what was going on before you had killed yourself. He approached you as class ended with his hand scratching the back of his neck, nervous. For a short second your eyes had sparkled; you loved it when he was nervous, he always looked so cute- but you knew what he was going to ask, and you couldn't handle it. Emotionally and physically. "Hey, y/n," he chuckled dryly, obviously trying to cover up the awkwardness, "can we talk?" "Oh, uh, sure," you answer; throat dry and scratchy. You both head out of the classroom together while you mostly hope to whatever god is out there that they won't let you break in front of him. "What was it you wanted to talk about?" "Oh, just that you seem a little down lately. I wanted to know what's wrong, since you're one of my best friends, ya' know?" One of my best friends. "Oh, I'm fine, Eijirou. No need to worry." His eyes changed at your statement. He had a feeling you were lying to him, and he hated that. He couldn't help that he couldn't be with you as much anymore, he had someone else. But he also couldn't help that his closeness to you was a lot different than his closeness to others. He didn't have the same connection with Sayaka or Bakugou or Kaminari like he did with you. But you didn't know that. You thought he was forgetting about you, leaving you behind. It was like you were reaching out to him, but then he faded away at your touch. "Are you sure? I mean, I know I haven't been hanging out with you a lot recently because of my relationship with Sayaka, but I want you to know that I still care for you just as much as I did before. Nothing has changed." You knew he was being sincere with his words, but you couldn't help but doubt him while the stabbing pain in your chest was forming. Shit. You needed to get out of there soon or else- you didn't want to think about what might happen. You gently push Kirishima out of the way before you realize you are already past the bathrooms. Would you even have time to lock your door before your body betrays you and destroys itself? You didn't know, but at this point, you didn't care as you rush to your room, trying your best to lock the door, only half-succeeding, and pulling out the bucket you kept by your bed. The bucket was small, but big enough for you to stuff your head in while you coughed up your tragic love story. You had got it a couple weeks after this whole...thing...started. So having it there when you're in a hurry was really convenient. You had almost collapsed down from crouching so fast and the bucket barely tipped over from your aggression. You were a mess, for Christ's sake. How could you let it get this far? Trying to pull your hair out of the way, you could feel the thorns coming up through your throat, abrading your esophagus and climbing through the back of you mouth and leaving for the bottom of the bucket. Flower petals and leaves falling out of your mouth; you gagging and attempting to catch your breath and not choke on your blood. You didn't even hear Kirishima pounding on the door, yelling your name before he yanks the door open with a panic-y yelp as he saw you hunched over, throwing your brains up. His eyes widened at your figure. Were you sick? You would've told him, right? He rushes to your side, careful not to scare or worry you. So this is why you've been so fatigued all the time? You've just been sick? You could've told him, he would've helped you go through it. Hell, you wouldn't be sick anymore if you were getting help from him. So now he just had to be here for you, while you literally spill your guts out. He gathers your hair from around the bucket with his hands, rubbing your back and tugging your hair up to the back of your head. Wait- was that blood? His face of worry immediately changes to panic; he doesn't know what to do as he sees blood spill from your lips. What the hell was going on? As soon as that question pops up in his head, a petal fell from the brim of your mouth. Holy shit. No way. No fucking way. "Y/n? Y/n! Are you okay? What's going on? Is this what I think it is?" You couldn't tell him, could you? Could you tell him that you were hopelessly in love with a man already in a relationship with another woman? Could you tell him that you had been in love with him for a long, long time? You couldn't do that to him. You couldn't do that to your relationship. No. You just couldn't. You grab your throat in effort to stop the thorns from objecting your airway. You cough it up, watching the long stem of a flower that was long gone slide out of your mouth, and into the bucket that had saved you cleaning hours. Kirishima watched as tears streamed down your face unwillingly; he was absolutely distraught. How could he be this fucking clueless? How could he not see it sooner that you were hurting. Hurting more than he thought you were. "Y/n, it's going to be okay! I'll help you! Whoever it is!" He practically shouts at you when one of your hands come up from your neck to his chest, grasping his shirt. Fuck it, you couldn't keep it in anymore. You needed him to know. You needed him to realize that you loved him more than anything ever in this world, and you weren't going to stop. And apparently, he knew what you mean. Hearing your choked sobs as soon as the last little bits of flower left your lips you kept looking down, embarrassed and ashamed as all hell. "I," you cough, throat dry and raspy, "I'm so-sorry." "Sshh, it's okay, don't talk," he says, his smooth voice making you feel much more at ease. You look up at him slowly, being conscious of your current state and well, to put lightly, you look like a total mess. He smiles at you. His magnificent, beautiful, amazing smile, just for you, automatically makes you want to smile back. But you can't. You physically can't. Your jaw and throat are so tired, you're surprised you haven't passed out yet. You thought too soon. You went out like a light. But thankfully, you woke up in Recovery Girl's office, the bright lights blinding you and the heart monitor's beeping making your head hammer. You take a long look around the room, taking in your surroundings. The first thing you notice is the bright red, spiky hair that is obviously Kirishima's. You scan his features, taking in his beautiful, beautiful face and body. He was the most amazing person you had met. You were so thankful to be in his life, and thankful he was in yours. And even more thankful he was in Recovery Girl's office with you. You felt...better. You didn't know what it was, but you felt good. Refreshed. "I love you," you sputter. Your voice, still gross, scratchy as all hell, but you needed to say it. Even if he didn't feel the same way. He smiled, and then chuckled. It was a happy chuckle. Like, a chuckle of relieve, you figure. "I love you too." What? Your eyes grow wide in pure shock. You hadn't expected this- you hadn't expected this at all. You were freaking out. "I- you what? But you have a girlfriend, I- I mean,  there is no way you like me more than her, or even *love* me," you ramble. All Kirishima could do was stare. Stare at your beauty. "I'm n-nothing compared to her, she's perfect," you couldn't help but let out a little cry at this, admitting the fact that she was better than you. You were about to continue when you felt a hand on yours. "I don't love Sayaka. I never did. I love you. I always loved you. And I am so, so, so, so sorry that I let it get this far, this wasn't supposed to happen. But I want to make it better. Will you let me make it better?" He still smiles, but his eyebrows are furrowed, worried about your answer. You sit up, grabbing his hand tighter while reaching over to catch him in an embrace. "Yes. Yes. Yes, yes, yes," your voice turns into a whisper, "I love you so much, Eijirou. So much," you barely get out. His grip on you gets tighter, his arms around your back with one hand snaking through your hair. He sniffled, and by then you could tell he was crying too. "God, I was so worried about you. Don't you dare scare me like that again, okay, Pebble?" Pebble. You liked that nickname. It fit. "I won't, I promise. I won't, I won't, I won't." And from that moment on, the pain in your chest was gone.

#bnha #mha #kirishima #kirishima eijirou #kirishima x reader #kirishima scenarios #kirishima headcanons #yaomomo's gf