Tumgik
#and if i get told by one more medical professional that i should stretch and workout more i think im not legally liable for ripping
whydidoth · 2 years
Text
.
#super cool for my legs to just stop working so i get to be in a ton of pain and nauseous and can also barely even move#and i missed class yesterday because i could literally barely move my legs without crippling pain#but i was at least functional enough today to go even though whats normally a fifteen minute walk across campus became a forty minute walk#and also probably undid whatever healing my rest day did so now im stuck in bed again#and i got to find out that the building my class is in is wildly inaccessible#the only elevator is literally in a different building and there's a slope that is definitely too steep to be ada compliant#and also the elevator is behind a door in a dinky corridor and the door its behind doesnt have a fucking button for it to open itself#and all this time im just thinking about how ive been told i shouldnt use a mobility aid because itll lead to my muscles degrading#like idk man!!#but i think maybe being able to use my legs at all even if theyre.#a bit weaker is probably preferable to not being able to move at all!!!#and i cant even get into see a doctor about any of this until october despite scheduling the appointment way back in fucking APRIL#because we live in an absolute nightmare of a healthcare system#and if i get told by one more medical professional that i should stretch and workout more i think im not legally liable for ripping#their fucking heads off#newsflash!!! i do already workout on the days i can move my legs!!!!!#and shockingly#it isnt a common symptom of not working out to get crippling leg pain or else wed probably have a lot more people needing wheelchairs#or getting told to eat healthier#i do eat healthily bit fuck you if i have to put up with chronic pain i should at least be entitled to eating food i like#oh maybe if you only eat uncooked broccoli and work out twenty three hours a day you might have the privelege of maybe improving your legs#obviously since i didnt have the good sense to be born able bodied
2 notes · View notes
turtletaubwrites · 2 months
Text
Bend Until You Break ~ Part 1
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Thank you for this request from the lovely @anemptypuddingcup for a Yandere!Law that the Reader goes to for help with a serious health condition, only for Law to take a liking to her... I swear I will write sweet Law one of these days, but for now please enjoy Yandere!Law. This contains !!DARK CONTENT!! so please check the warnings, and skip this one if it may be triggering or uncomfortable for you. This one's for us hypermobile baddies out there. 🥄
Pairings: YANDERE!Trafalgar Law x Fem!Reader
Bend Until You Break ~ Masterlist
Word Count: 2679
Ao3 Link
Summary: You have struggled with mystery pains and injuries for most of your life, and had resigned yourself to suffer after every doctor told you there was nothing wrong. But when a world renowned doctor/pirate comes to town to offer aid in exchange for supplies, you decide to give hope one more chance. Maybe you'll finally find a doctor you can trust.
Rating/Warnings: Explicit Sexual Content, 18+ ONLY, MDNI, AFAB!Reader, She/Her Pronouns for Reader, Reader-Insert, DARK CONTENT, DUBCON, Dubious Consent, Swearing, Eventual Smut, Yandere, Manipulation, Power Imbalance, Hypermobility, Medical Examination, Medical Trauma, Medical Conditions, Chronic Pain, Injury, Physical Disability, Physical Therapy, Doctor/Patient, Abuse of Authority, Kidnapping, Possessive Behavior, Other Additional Tags to be Added, (Reader is described as having hair "above her shoulders" that she can brush)
A/N: This chapter is SFW, but I'm adding in many tags to start out with since this mini series will contain heavy/dark content. PLEASE heed the tags, and do not read this fic if you aren't comfortable with these topics. Some of these medical issues may or may not have come from personal experience 🙃
Extra A/N: I am not a doctor, and this is not meant to be educational, or to contain any health advice. Please seek a health professional. Hopefully you'll have better luck than Reader 🙄
| masterlist | about me | rules | ao3 |
Tumblr media
I should just leave. He’ll just tell me the same things. It’s a waste of time. 
You were close to convincing yourself to walk away, especially as the discomfort and pain of standing in one place for so long started radiating up your body. 
The line got shorter, and you stretched and bounced, trying to hang onto a sliver of hope.
“Hello, how’s your day going?”
A talking polar bear in an orange jumpsuit waved at you from behind a small table, handing you a clipboard. 
“I-I’m well thanks. How…”
“Good! It’s always nice when the captain can help people. He’s the best! Just fill that out, and he’ll be with you soon.”
Looking at the form brought you out of the shock of speaking to a bear. Instead, it filled you with intense frustration, until you were practically boiling in your skin.
‘Rate your pain from 1-10.’
How the fuck am I supposed to rate all the different types of pain I’m in on any given day?
‘Circle the parts of the body where you are experiencing pain.’
I could put circles over so many things. Might as well circle the whole fucking chart, and have them call me a liar.
‘List your diagnoses, and family medical history.’
I don’t have one, doctors never find anything. Mom has some similar symptoms, but they're so mild that she's never tried to get a diagnosis. You’re the one who’s supposed to figure this out!
You resisted the urge to vent your anger onto the page, bullshitting your way through instead. You tried to write in the most convincing way to get this new doctor to take you seriously. 
This new doctor. “The Surgeon of Death.” A fucking pirate. 
But he was supposed to be the best, and he was here on your shitty little island for a couple of weeks, trading medical treatment for the town's supplies. You had already heard reports of “miracles,” that he could perform surgeries in an instant, that he could fix anyone. 
Please fix me.
This was it. You couldn’t take anymore trying after this. Just trying to get a doctor to listen to or believe you was almost worse than the daily pain. Almost.
“Miss Y/N? The captain is ready for you now. My name is Bepo, by the way,” the bear grinned as he took the clipboard from your clammy hands. At least you hoped it was a grin.
He handed the form back to you as he led you through the dimly lit hallways of this strange submarine. It felt like you’d entered some other realm, an underworld, on your way to strike a deal with a demon. 
As long as he can fix me…
“Here you are,” Bepo motioned as he opened a large metal door. “You’re in great hands.”
Hands. 
Hands were the first things you noticed as you entered the examination room. 
Those hands were tensed over the back of a rolling chair, gripping the thin padding as if waiting for you so he could sit down. 
Long fingers mesmerized you, tattoos etched along the back of each hand. And as you stepped into the well lit room, you saw the word “death,” spelled out across both sets of those fingers. 
The sound of his throat clearing snapped your eyes to his, your skin flushing as you realized he’d been speaking to you. 
As you realized how fucking gorgeous he was. His black hair looked a bit mussed, but it only added to the effect, along with his goatee, and his dark, pretty eyes.
Already more useful than my other doctors. Easy on the eyes. 
“May I look at your form, miss?”
‘Oh, of course,'' you stuttered, thrusting the paper toward him. “I’m Y/N.”
“Dr. Trafalgar. You can take a seat.”
Well, his bedside manner seems pretty standard, you thought with a small sigh, sitting down on the familiar crinkly paper covering the exam table. 
He circled behind you to close the door, and what sounded like a lock clicking into place had your heart rate spiking. 
“Stand up, please,” he said firmly, your form still unseen in his hand. 
“Oh, sorry. I thought you said–”
“Walk to the corner, and sit back down, please.”
His voice was unreal. You would have jumped through hoops for him anyway, praying that any doctor would listen. 
But his command seemed to curl into your brain, and you followed it immediately. 
“Why are you favoring that hip?”
“Oh, it…” 
Here’s where your credibility would fall apart. Your nails dug into your palms as you willed him to believe you.
“Sometimes if I stand too quickly, it feels loose. Sometimes it pops, and is so painful that I can’t put any weight on it.”
He stared at you for a moment, and you fought not to recite a list of excuses, to try to explain why it hurts when you’d never been injured before. 
“And your right knee?”
“Oh, it’s not bad right now. It used to swell sometimes, and was really painful. But it’s not as bad as it used to be.”
“Did you sustain any injuries?”
“N-No. None that I can recall.”
His lips quirked a bit before he reviewed your chart.
Believe me. Believe me. Believe me.
“You’ve reported your shoulders as being your most pressing concern. Why is that?”
His eyes were almost painfully sharp as he scanned you, focusing on your face as you answered him. He’d sat backwards on the rolling chair, his arms folded across the back with his legs spread wide to either side.
“They’ve been acting up recently. They often feel… loose. That’s how it feels to me. Sometimes if I move a certain way it almost feels like they pop out of place. But I can still move them after, it’s just incredibly painful. And then it’s weak, and I can barely hold anything.”
“What are some of the activities that have caused this to happen?”
He was impossible to read. But you couldn’t lie. He wouldn’t be able to help you if you lied.
“Um, brushing my hair. Taking off a jacket. P-Putting a sports bra on.”
“Did you used to have longer hair?”
“What?”
“Do you keep your hair above your shoulders to prevent shoulder pain? Or does brushing it still cause issues at this length?”
“Oh. Yes, actually. I used to have much longer hair.”
“I imagine you’ve adjusted many aspects of your life to cope with this pain.” 
Warmth flowed into that deep voice, and you shivered as you watched him steeple his fingers against his lips for a moment. 
“If you are comfortable, I would like to run through a few simple movements to check your flexibility. Many of which you can do on your own, but I will check in again if you are comfortable with me touching you for the others. You can always let me know if you would like to stop.”
“Okay.”
The doctor dug through a drawer to pull out a clear measuring device, almost like two rulers connected at one end. He adjusted it, creating an angle before setting it aside. 
He never picked up the device again, and you fought not to shake. He looked at your elbows, your knees, your thumbs, your pinkies, frowning slightly as you followed his instructions.
“Now, please bend over, and try to touch your toes. Just go as far as you– hm.”
Your palms were flat on the ground, just as they’d always been able to go. You could even put the back of your hands down, and stretch them along the ground behind you if you wanted to. 
“Doctor?”
“You can take a seat.”
Wincing as you sat, you shook out your legs, feeling his eyes as he watched your every movement. 
He stood, towering over you as he came close.
“For this next part of the examination, I will be touching you with my hands, and in some cases leaning or holding parts of your body against mine so that I can check the range of motion in your joints. I may also massage certain tight muscles to help you relax as we move through the problem areas. You have quite the list for us to get through, but if at any time you wish for us to stop, just let me know. Do you understand?”
“I do,” you breathed, your face angled up to meet his.
“Do you consent to me touching you?”
His voice came out softer once again, and you couldn’t hold in a shiver as you consented.
Those fingers…
His long fingers were so gentle as they crept across your body, testing, pushing, pulling. You fought to listen to his commands, pushing against or holding your body how he told you. 
“I imagine that seeking treatment has been challenging for you,” he rasped as he leaned over your face, his fingers gently massaging your shoulders. 
The pain and pleasure of his hands testing you had brought up a strangely emotional pressure, almost like tears in your throat.
“It has.”
“I’m sorry, Y/N. It must be incredibly difficult to suffer so much pain, and not be believed.”
You started to nod to keep your voice from cracking, but he pressed his fingers into your skin just a bit.
“Can you keep still for me,” he whispered, and it sounded so close that you opened your eyes.
“Just relax,” the doctor soothed as he stepped away, pulling a few tissues out to press against your cheeks and temples, catching the tears that had spilled when you’d opened your burning eyes.
“I’m sorry, doc–”
“No need to be sorry, Y/N. You have been suffering, been living with pain for years. It’s all those doctors that left you like this that should feel ashamed.”
His fingers had returned to your body, still relaxing, and testing.
“Thank you, doctor.”
“Please, call me Law.”
He was pressing gently along your collarbones as his name rolled over you, a small sound escaping your throat as you melted beneath him. 
“Do you have a good support system? People in your life that can help you with this?”
“I mean, my mom and my boyfriend help me. They’re supportive.”
He took those fingers away, and you mourned them, wishing you could feel that soothing touch forever.
“I’m going to test your hips now, Y/N. Please tell me if you experience any pain.”
“Okay,” you agreed, feeling self conscious of your breathy voice. His words just kept pouring over you, his voice so relaxing, so good. 
“How does that feel, Y/N?”
“Fine.”
He had your leg stretched along his torso, your foot dangling over his shoulder. You clamped your eyes shut. The sight of him between your spread legs, pushing your leg toward you, had you biting your lip, trying not to make any more embarrassing noises. 
“How’s this?”
“Fine.”
He hadn’t gotten close to your limit, but he went agonizingly slow. You could feel his firm abs warming your thigh through your clothes, his thin shirt not doing much to keep the press of him at bay. 
“You said that your mom and your boyfriend support you. How do they do that?”
“Oh, uh,” you shook your head, trying to focus on the question, and not the gentle rocking motion he’d started as he pushed you even further.
“They help me when… They help me when I’m having bad days. They listen. They both do little different things when things are bad.”
“How’s this?”
“Still fine.”
“You can go further?”
“Yeah, I can–,” you had reached for your thigh, planning to pull it toward your chest to show him, but his eyes above you stopped you before his voice did. 
“I’ll get you there, Y/N. You can hurt yourself if you rush. Can you take it slow for me?”
“Perfect,” he praised when you nodded, still gently rocking your body forward and back as he pushed, finally reaching the limit. 
“That is quite the range of motion,” he noted, carefully laying that leg down to move to the other side. “May I?”
He set himself up again, moving slow as he used his body to stretch you.
“You said that they help you on bad days, is that right?”
Meeting his sharp eyes, you took a minute to understand.
“Yes, they do.”
His face tilted a bit as he pressed closer. He started that gentle rocking motion, almost thrusting against you to help your body relax. 
“But Y/N, from what I’ve seen today, it seems like all of your days are bad. Aren’t they?”
“I…”
“All these years with no one to believe you. It must be hard to believe yourself sometimes. Do you think they really believe you, Y/N? Do they believe how much pain you’re in as you struggle through each day? As you stand up too fast, or brush your hair? Do you think they understand?”
He’d pushed closer, looming over you as he held your thigh against him. 
“Why are you–”
“I need to make sure that my patients have the support systems they need.”
His voice had smoothed back now, from almost heated to cool and detached.
He’s the only person that’s ever seemed like they understand. He must believe me. Of course he would be passionate about it, he’s a doctor. A doctor that believes me.
Closer and closer, his eyes watching yours.
“Do they believe you?”
“I think,” you started, eyes wide as you fought more tears, “I think they try to believe me. They just… They don’t know what it’s like. They don’t understand.”
“How’s this?”
“It’s fine.”
“Alright, last push.”
Your thigh was pressed between your bodies, and he stayed there.
“Does this hurt, Y/N,” he rasped, his breath warming your face. 
“No.”
He helped you stretch your leg out on the table, sitting backwards in the rolling chair before he told you to sit up.
“I believe I understand the cause of your pain, and why you’ve had a difficult time obtaining a diagnosis.”
“Can you fix it?”
Your thrill of excitement got caught in your throat at the look in his eyes, his palm up to halt your questions. 
“I believe it may be a connective tissue disorder, which would explain your hypermobility, as well as the complications you’ve had with many parts of your body. You've already met the criteria for one type based on our examination today. I would like you to come back tomorrow so that we can review more of your symptoms to be sure, and to discuss treatments.”
“You can do surgery, right? Can you fix it?”
You had gestured to him, your body panicking with failing hope. A gasp left your throat as those tattooed fingers caught your hand, his thumb rubbing over your skin as his voice went low.
“I’m sorry, Y/N. This is not a condition that can be cured,” he confessed, squeezing your hand as your body slumped. “Connective tissues run throughout our entire body, and if I am correct, yours may be weaker than most. 'Loose,' as you said. Unfortunately, there is no known way to repair or replace those tissues.”
A weight fell over you, and you found yourself not quite in your body. Your body that you’d fought so hard to fix.
That can never be fixed.
The doctor pressed your hand between his, smoothing over and warming your fingers until you were present enough to meet his eyes.
“It may not be curable, Y/N, but it can be managed. You don’t need to suffer alone in such pain like you have been. I’ll do everything I can to ensure that things are better for you. Do you trust me?”
There was something so intense about his face. The way he looked at you felt heavy, like he really did see the weight you’d carried all these years. You sank into those gray eyes, and realized you did.
“I trust you, Doctor.”
“Please. Y/N,” he hummed, releasing your hand, “call me, Law.”
Tumblr media
Likes and reblogs bring me much ✨dopamine✨ thank you so much!
a/n: Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed it! Welcome to my frustration with the health care system 😅
Tag List: @shewrites02 | @jadeddangel
Part 2
Tumblr media
| masterlist | about me | rules | ao3 |
322 notes · View notes
sashi-ya · 11 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
𝐒𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐁𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 [+18] 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐠𝐚𝐫 𝐥𝐚𝐰 𝐱 𝐟! 𝐩𝐫𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐬𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐞𝐫! 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 [chapter three]
ʚ masterlist: part 1; part 2; part 4 ; part 5; final ʚ tw: MDNI. mentions of SEXUAL ABUSE INTENT (she is fine and safe). mentions of usage of drugs. medical terminology and treatment. slow burn romance.
Tumblr media
𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟑: 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐊𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬.
“If it’s not much of a trouble, then, I’d like to stay with you ~”
Law nods, calmly. However, his calm doesn’t last much longer. When he finally understands what you have just told him, he widens his eyes.
“You- you wanna come home, (Name)-ya?” he asks, almost stuttering. It’s pretty cute to see a man that looks so tough blushing.
“Heh… yes. I trust you, Law. If it’s an inconvenience though, I can go back to my hotel…” you murmur, you don’t really want to keep abusing of his help.
Law stands up, brushing his white coat with his hands and denies with his head.
“No. You can come with me. It’s better if someone keeps you company tonight”
You bite the inner side of your mouth. And perhaps you feel a little guilty… why are you so happy to hear he is going to take you home? You should be scared; still trembling for what happened before. But you simply can’t; Law’s aura transmits you a peace, you never knew you could feel.
Twenty minutes after, and a lot of awkward silences in between the doctor and you, a nurse called Vivi announces a police officer has come to talk to you.
You swallow. You are absolutely scared. Why is he here?
“Excuse me, I’m officer Roronoa Zoro. I’m here to make you a few questions about the incident, miss. If you don’t feel like answering tonight I can come back tom-“ a green haired officer, tall and with a wide chest, says. He has one eye closed, and a sharp mandible.
You don’t mind answering questions. However, you are not sure if you remember much about the incident.
“Of course, I can answer. Please go ahead” you nod, smiling shily. The officer could look intimidating, but you are right next to Law. You feel safe.
Law stands up and stretches his hand to the policeman. “I’m Dr. Trafalgar Law; I was there during the incident. I was the one who stopped that criminal from landing a hand on her. Is he already in jail, officer Roronoa?” he asks, with a much more stronger tone. Law is pissed about the situation still. The less he wanna listen now is how that bastard has been freed from jail.
Officer Roronoa nods with his eyes closed; “So you are Dr. Trafalgar. Nice to meet you. He is in jail. He wanted to press charges against you for the punch and the camera, but I suggested him not to do it…” he murmurs, giving you the impression, he condones a 100% Law’s actions.
You take your hand to your mouth. Law could get into a legal problem because of you?
“No, in any case tell him to press charges against me! I don’t mind I-“ you chime, desperately trying to avoid any inconvenience to your hero. But Law puts his tattooed hand over your shoulder.
“(Name)-ya, don’t worry. He won’t even have time to press any charge. Officer, I have a lab report with the confirmation he drugged her. Here” Law manages the situation like a professional but also like someone who deeply cares for you.
Soon, the proves are given and with not many more questions, Officer Roronoa leaves assuring you that nothing like that would ever happen to you again.
You trust in him. Not everybody is bad. Zoro, Law, Bepo, his friends, Dr. Robin, Nurse Vivi. All of them have been good to you. All of them have helped you out.
A few hours pass, and with them the night become almost dawn. The weekend is just starting, but outside the streets seem a little empty. You watch Law call someone, but you can’t hear him as you are waiting inside, behind the doors of the hospital.
Is cold. You can see steam coming from Law’s lips, and the glass windows of the main hall getting a little fogged. He is wearing a long black coat, and you, still your princess cosplay.
“(Name)-ya, wait here I will bring the car” he says, peeping through the sliding doors. You nod, hugging yourself with your arms.
Soon, Law’s SUV appears right by the entrance, and you begin to walk towards the exit waving at the staff with love. You make a mental note to come back tomorrow with something to eat for them, you need to thank them.
As you walk without looking in front of you, you bump into someone. His arms, his scent… “L-Law… sorry. I- I thought you were waiting on the car” you mumble, still with your nose almost buried into his chest.
“I- (Name)-ya… I-. It’s cold outside, please use this” he says, taking off his coat and placing it on your shoulders in the most caring way possible. He touches you as if you were made of crystal.
You take a moment to look into his icy eyes. The bustle of the reception suddenly disappears and most of the people there enjoy the romantic moment you two are the protagonists of.
Law also gets momentarily lost into your eyes, his lips slightly separate and his pupils dilate notoriously. He squeezes your shoulders, ever so lightly, and barely manages to murmur a “let’s go”.
You slowly nod and your bodies separate. You hold to dear life to the sides of the coat he just gave you; it’s warm like his embrace. And it smells just like him; manly, musky and sweet.
He runs to the side of the car, just to open the door for you. And you giggle. He is such a gentleman. “Thank you…”
Law immediately looks at his feet. He is probably not good at taking compliments. Soon, he gets inside the van and checks if you have the seatbelt on.
You do. Is a matter of security. Even if you are right now going home with someone you really don’t know.
As he drives in total silence, and the radio plays a soft song you can’t recognize, you can see the sun rising through the rear-view mirror. It’s still too weak to be considered morning, but a new day is definitely starting…
Maybe, perhaps, like Law’s infatuation for you.
The soft lulling motions of Law’s driving, the scent of his coat, and the exhaustion finally hit your body. The cold surface of the window next to you welcomes your temple as you fell asleep.
Law checks up on you, almost constantly. He needs to know you are ok, even if the main reason for his eyes scanning you is how beautiful you look while sleeping in his car.
A red gleam coming from the traffic light bathes his and your profile. He sighs, squeezing the steering wheel. It’s been a long time since he took a girl home, but honestly this doesn’t feel right… or at least not for the right reasons. It shouldn’t be this way…
However, right before the red turn to green, he felt the need inside his heart, to protect you no matter what. Now, and since you allow him to do so. 
Law, who for some moments got lost on your peaceful cycle of breathing, forgets about driving. He simply stopped paying attention at the traffic lights. And with it, the honking of some cars behind you, woke you up.
You open your eyes, scared. Yet, the first thing you noticed was that kind façade looking at you, mesmerized.
The doctor immediately shakes his head and focus back on driving. His cheeks become as red as tomatoes; his hands have a slight tremble, too.  
“I- I’m sorry I fell asleep. Did you say something, Law?” you ask, shyly and sitting properly on the cars seat.
“N-No. We- we are about to arrive home” he says, avoiding at all costs any type of visual contact with you. And you can only giggle internally; then again, a guy that looks so tough, shows you to be the softest of all.
A few minutes later, he grabs a little controller from the glove box in front of your knees. He grazes your leg, and you notice the way his breathing seems to stop for some seconds. But he needs to focus, he needs to get home.
In front of you, a huge modern building of who knows how many floors. The door of the parking entrance opens in a very elegant way, and inside Law drives.
You take a look at the pretty expensive place in awe. Of course, Law is young, but he is probably an amazing surgeon. “How pretty” you whisper, squeezing your bag against your belly. “I have never been in this part of the city…”
Law looks at you, briefly. He gives you a soft smile and parks in the #715 spot. “I can show you the neighbourhood later” he murmurs, while taking the keys off the ignition. “We could go have lunch at one of my… friend’s restaurant” he says, pronouncing the word “friend” with difficulty.
You are pleased and excited to meet his friend’s diner, so you show it to him with a rather cute and childish nodding of your head. It causes in Law, as almost everything you do, a revolution. His cheeks become a little flushed again, but he tries his best to act normal.
Soon, he gets off the car and helps you stand up. “Here, let me help you. You might feel a little dizzy still. Is better if you take it easy” he says, pulling softly from your hand and grabbing your bag.  You feel fine, maybe a little blunt, but you can definitely walk on your own.
But even though Law can tell you can walk properly, he never lets go of your hand as you head down the elevators of the building. When the doors open, and the lights of an expensive looking lift hit your eyes, you indeed feel lightheaded and lose a little bit of balance.
But there he is, again, to support you. “Come here” he says, lifting you up from your legs in arms. You gasp; you can’t process how you are now not standing but resting on his arms once again.
“L-Law… i- it’s ok!” you jolt, grabbing to his shoulders. Your hero is pretty tall, so you are a few centimetres more off the ground than you would actually imagined.
“You could fall. The elevator is not safe” he says, taking some steps to get inside the lift.
You laugh, taking a look at how the mirrors around reflect some kind of a fairytale scenery. The princess being rescued by the tough knight. “You would look so good cosplaying Sora, the Warrior of the Sea” you chime, completely ignorant of how much that means to Law.
He presses the 7th floor button, and a smile invades his façade. Even if, in less than a few seconds, such beautiful smirk disappears.
“You like Sora, Law?” you ask, insisting on something you believe you two have in common. “I do. But… I don’t do cosplay. I’m too old for it” he spits, rather venomously and sounding a lot cocky.
You tilt your head to the side. You are sure both of you are around the same age. “Old? For cosplaying? Are you kidding me? When I was a teenager I couldn’t buy the materials to create good cosplays… it is now when you should do it! But… is your loss, I was gonna cosplay Sora’s wife…”
Law’s eyes shine bright. His ultimate fictional crush, was indeed Sora’s wife. And now he understands the similarities in between her and you. “You- I…” he stutters.
“Yes, you can come with me. Extra points if you cosplay Sora” you chime, happily.
The doors of the elevator open, showing an equally luxurious and sophisticated hall full of doors. Law has just been “saved by the bell”. And you, still on his arms, allow your heart to wonder to the meadows of fairy tales fantasies. Your knight, saving you from the evil dragon, taking you back to his palace.
“I can walk by myself, Law…” you giggle, seeing him struggle to open the door with you in arms and your bag hanging on the side.
“Do-Don’t worry” he says, finally unlocking the door and getting inside his apartment. As he walks in, you take a swift look at the place. Everything seems perfectly arranged, as if someone knew a girl was coming in.
Through the little hall that takes you to the living room, you notice a few photographs hanging on the wall. One with some children, another one with a couple of doctors and a girl and the other one a very young Law in the arms of a guy dressed as a clown.
Law finally deposits you in a black couch. “There, take your time before standing up. You want some tea?” he offers you, hanging your bag next to the door and heading to the kitchenette next to the living room.
“That would be great, yes!” you accept, taking a look at the balcony that shows the views of the city through a big glass door. “Law, your apartment is beautiful”
The doctor nods and proceeds to heat some water. He prepares the tea in silence, yet, quickly enough so that he doesn’t keep you waiting.
The warm beverage feels like heaven when you take a sip of it. Honestly, you needed it. However, you still feel uncomfortable as the cosplay begins to itch against your skin. But you don’t say anything; you have already taken a lot from Law.
But, Law, knows best… “(Name)-ya I don’t have any women’s clothing in here. But I can give you mine if you want. You can take a shower. I will show you the bathroom”
“Oh~. Yes, thank you” you bow, closing your eyes. You are, at this point, absolutely ashamed of how much he has helped you already.
Law’s lip curl a bit; his smirks aren’t big, and you can tell he isn’t used to smile.  “Wait a second, I will get everything ready” he says, walking towards a hall with only two doors. You can tell one is for his room, and the other for the bathroom.
You take that time alone to scan the place better. Your eyes land on the little bookshelf next to the door. In there, all the volumes of “Sora, The Warrior of the Sea” are perfectly arranged. Those and every possible character book. There also other manga and books. But what catches your attention the most, is a precious resin figure of Sora fighting against the Germa 66 soldiers.
“WOW” you exclaim, giving a simple fuck about that “take it easy” advice Law has given you, and running to the bookshelf. You inspect every detail of it, amazed and probably also thinking how much such work of art must have costed.
Of course, you forget about Law for quite some seconds, so, the moment he speaks it makes you jolt.
“(Name)-ya… I have clot-“
“AH JESUS CHRIST!” you jump scared, turning around with cheeks already on fire. “I’m sorry I was just taking a look at… this” you point to the figure, flashing a sweet smile towards him. For some reason you feel guilty for existing right now.
Law walks towards you with clothes and a fresh towel in his hands. His long legs only need a few steps to get closer to you, and you feel -or at least fantasize- as if he was coming to kiss you. Dreaming that way should be illegal…
“It’s ok. You can look at it then. Please, follow me” he says, almost whispering, and looking straight into your eyes. It almost sounded like an order… Why… so… sexy?!
You receive the clothes, and nod with a simple “ngh”. Following him, his tattooed hands open the door of his perfectly clean and arranged bathroom. Of course, he must be a freak of cleaning.
“Here, if you need anything you can ask me. Be careful with hot water, it could make your blood pressure go down suddenly, and you are unstable right now. Also, there is liquid soap there, and if you wanna take a long bath just use this.” he says, pointing at the buttons on his bathtub…
“A jacuzzi? Wow, fancy doctor” you chime, little by little your real self comes back as the drug effects finally seem to fade completely.
Law scoffs almost inaudibly. He probably likes you calling him doctor... “Heh, well… I will let you have some privacy. If you need something or feel dizzy, please call me. I’ll be on the kitchen” he says, walking away without looking at you directly, but doing so by the reflection of the mirror as he closes the door.
You sigh the moment he leaves. Every time his silver eyes fix on you, you feel like all the oxygen around is gone…
Taking a look in such mirror, you let your -ruined- cosplay fall to the ground. You notice the little bruises on your arms. Ones from the hands of that bastard, the others from the blood tests and iv access. A thing you had forgotten for some time while being next to Law, suddenly comes back like a painful memory of some hours ago. However, it feels so far in time. Law has made such experience better.
You open the tab, and in an instant sweet lukewarm water creates steam all around. It feels relaxing, and you even think of indulging on the jacuzzi function. But, it wouldn’t be fair. Law hasn’t slept yet; you couldn’t make him wait so much for you.
You suddenly remember you need to pick up your stuff from the hotel, as if, you were going to stay longer in Law’s house. You giggle, as the extremely hot water kisses your neck – something you shouldn’t do, and something you have absolutely ignored from Law-. “What am I thinking of? I should take an uber back to my hotel… I need to go back home by the end of the weekend…”
It certainly pains you. You don’t want to be away from these new people you just met. It’s true you don’t live pretty far away, but it is at least a three-hour long drive from Law’s home.
“I will… I will… mi… miss….” You stutter, feeling as if everything around begins to spin and your limbs become week.
A loud thump… and his voice, and the warm embrace now holding your wet and naked skin
ㅤㅤ ㅤ “(Name)-ya!”
[continues in ➡ chapter 4 ]
124 notes · View notes
ozwuv · 3 months
Note
If I have hand pains (as artists get) what’s should I do? Do you recommend any exercises?
hmmm so i don't get hand pains necessarily, but i did damage my ulnar nerve pretty badly end of 2019-2020 from the oz fanbook grind lol. this led to a constant, dull pain in my dominant arm and persistent numbness in my hand. for a long time, i couldn't hold a pencil at all and to this day my grip is pretty weak. i remember when acnh came out in march 2020, i cried out of frustration constantly bc my grip was so lax i couldn't play.
that said, i'm speaking from experience when i say that taking advice on stretching techniques i found online made things way, way worse for me because it exacerbated the nerve damage i didn't know i had until i saw a doctor. the wrong kind of stretches can be more damaging than helpful if you're not doing them correctly, and especially if you have some kind of underlying issue that would be counterproductive for. the same thing goes for wrist braces and such -- a lot of people recommend them, but the wrong kind of brace can damage you further, and you should not be constantly wearing a brace unless a medical professional has told you to; constant usage of braces weakens your muscles over time because the brace prevents you from actually using them. if you have the means for it, i would really recommend consulting a physical therapist for preventative care.
but i didn't have access to medical care for a long time, so i get that's not feasible for everyone. if that's you, basic harm reduction guidelines are good to keep in mind. these are going to be things you've undoubtedly heard before, but they're drilled into your head for good reason:
take breaks. set a timer for every ~30-60 min and every time it goes off, get up, walk around, flex your hands and wrists, etc. ideally at least 10 minutes.
keep plenty of water within arm's reach at all times. hydration manages/prevents pain more than you might think. as soon as my grip gets too slack, i know that i need to stop drawing and drink a ton of water, but you should be drinking fluids at a semi-constant rate so you don't get to that point.
if you're in pain, stop drawing. no "i'll just wrap up the lines and then stop" -- listen to your body. if you're hurting, you've already pushed it too far and anything more is just going to make it worse.
posture posture posture -- any kind of posture advice for office workers generally applies to drawing.
^if you use a screen tablet (like cintiq or ipad) it's going to be virtually impossible to maintain good posture without buying a tablet arm or something. in cases like that, you should place even more of an emphasis on harm reduction or maybe even consider switching to an analog tablet so your monitor is at eye level. personally i'm in it for the longhaul with my ipad though lol
unfortunately advice like this kinda sucks for ppl with ADHD (meee) because pausing in the middle of something can cause you to become distracted or lose motivation. i don't really have a solution for that, but ultimately i got to the point where the nerve damage was so bad that i solidified these habits to prevent making it worse. i do get distracted and lose motivation a lot, but i did that to myself by not treating my body with the care it deserved.
if you take one thing from this response, let it be this: if you don't already experience chronic pain and/or nerve damage while drawing constantly without taking necessary precautions, it's not a matter of "if" you develop these issues, but "when". if you don't already have chronic pain from drawing, your goal right now should not be to preemptively look into things to remedy it, it should be seeking to prevent these issues altogether. work in some good habits, even if it's just taking breaks every now and then. even just one break per drawing is better than no breaks at all. i thought i was immune to these issues for over a decade & then i developed arthritis in my upper vertebrae at 20 years old lol nobody is immune i prommy<3
13 notes · View notes
kores-pomegranate · 1 year
Text
I’ve been thinking for a while that I’d like to write down what it feels like when I’m at my worst. I think the human brain, for all of its wonder, does a shit job of hanging onto things, especially things that are painful. I’ve found that I can never quite recall what my body feels like or what thoughts race through my head when I feel very low.
I’m not at my lowest at the moment, but it was recent enough that I can remember pretty well. Last week, my doctor and I came to the agreement that I probably have cyclothymia. Even as a mental health professional, I didn’t know much about it outside of people calling it “Bipolar Lite ™️.” My doctor asked me if I’d ever had consistent relief from my anxiety. The answer to that is “fuck no.” If I feel consistently neutral, that’s about as good as it gets. I never feel consistently *good.* There are moments, here and there. Flashes, sometimes even a week or two at a time where I feel pretty good.
I don’t know if you’ve ever had COVID or chronic bronchitis, but if you have you probably know what it feels like not to be able to take a truly deep breath without sputtering or getting light-headed. That’s how those “pretty good” stretches feel for me. I can’t breathe all the way, I can’t settle. Always, always, a l w a y s there is background static flavored with fear. Justified fear, even. A body tensed waiting for the gun to go off to begin the sprint; all potential energy waiting for my next meltdown or crisis. And the fear is justified because one of the only certainties I can rely on when it comes to my brain is that it will freak the fuck out at some point. It doesn’t matter if everything is fine, it doesn’t matter if I’ve been doing well or taking my medications and going to therapy. I can always count on a meltdown that burns through that potential energy so fast that it brings my functioning to a screeching halt.
Anyway, back to my doctor. I told him, with less flowery language, that I’ve felt that way my whole life with little relief. To my surprise, he looked…relieved? Excited? He told me that he’d been wondering about cyclothymia for me ever since I told him I wasn't sure if one (of my four) anxiety meds was working.
Because, the thing is, it should have been working.
If what I have been experiencing was traditional anxiety, the cocktail of medications I was on should have knocked it out. And I definitely should not have had breakthrough panic attacks, self harm relapses, or roller coasters of SI.
My doc took my pulse which was sitting at around 150. He looked alarmed and took it three more times. He confirmed that I'd taken all of my meds. And then, he looked determined. He told me he thought I'd benefit from a mood stabilizer that was specifically developed for cyclothymia, to help treat hypomania.
Oh, hypomania. The "less severe" form of manic episodes. It's true, in some regards, I suppose. I don't experience week-long hells where I feel euphoric and invincible and out of control. I don't spend thousands of dollars I don't have on things I don't need. I don't make reckless or dangerous decisions with sex or drugs or food and I don't get psychosis. I'm thankful I don't have to endure those things.
But I don't get the supposed "good stuff" that is supposed to accompany hypomania. I don't get a sudden burst of energy and productivity that compels me to delightedly clean my house or do meal prep. I don't have days where I wake up in a sudden and miraculous good mood that lasts for a few days.
No, I don't get any of that. I get days and moments where my body feels like it is ripped from my control with absolutely no warning. I get, in a matter of seconds, a heart rate that jumps from 65 to 180. A rush of adrenaline that makes my body shake. The sudden and crushing belief that *nothing is okay and I will never be okay." The near incontrollable urge to just r u n a w a y. The urge to self harm. Sometimes actual self harm because feeling anything else would be better than this. Sometimes the urge to just…be gone. Because if this is my life I don't want it anymore.
That is what hypomania is like for me. Feeling as though someone broke into my car and is driving it wherever they want, even though I'm in the backseat losing my shit and fighting to regain control. It's not a fight I ever win. Instead, it's as though the thief gets bored and ditches me and my car in whatever state they put us in.
"See you soon," it always says.
Fear has been the soundtrack of my life for as long as I can remember. Today marks one week of taking mood stabilizers and 0 days since my last hypomanic episode.
I'm happy to still be here. It's nice to feel hopeful, even if I'm really fucking suspicious about it.
And to that car thief I say, "fuck you."
23 notes · View notes
yourfellowhuman07 · 9 months
Text
Medical Practices
A She-Ra: Princess of Power 2018 fanfiction
Hordak have never been to a doctor in his life, nor did he want to; however, after some convincing, he agreed. They know nothing about his illness nor how to treat it, so they need the advice of a professional. Now he and Entrapta are traveling to a doctor's office on a nearby planet, all the while King Micah is reluctantly chaperoning.
*Part Two to Where Do We Go Know?*
_______________
I'm back from the dead.
Sorry, I've been gone for so long. After my vacation, it's been hard to spew out the words on my laptop. Sorry, this chapter is small. Thanks for reading!
_______________
Chapter 1: An Inconvenient Arrangement
Entrapta rubbed her eyes as she sat up on her large bed. She could only see the lavender sheets stretched across her large, circular bed surrounded by thick, maroon curtains. She heard the door to her bedroom swish open, unaware of who was entering. She listened to the sound of leather-soled shoes rustling against the carpet. Her curtains slowly opened, revealing a tall figure with glowing, crimson eyes carrying a tray.
“Good morning, Princess.” Hordak mused in a low, yet inviting, voice.
“Good morning, Lab Partner.” Entrapta yawned, still groggy from waking up.
Hordak took off his boots and sat next to Entrapta. He placed a tray filled with miniature pancakes on her lap and turned on the lights.
“Have you already eaten?” Entrapta asked, starting on the mini pancakes on the tray.
“No, but it would only be in vain. I doubt I would be able to keep anything down due to the schedule for the day.” Hordaks ears drooped.
“Hordak, you’ll be fine. I’ve got you one of the best doctors in the Eternian star system. I promise they will take good care of you.” Entrapta wrapped her fingers around his hand, giving him a reassuring squeeze.
“Thank you, Princess.” The couple laced their fingers together, a difficult task given their size difference.
“Did you sleep well last night?” She asked between mouthfuls.
“I always sleep well when lying next to you, Starlight. The Alliance is still letting us borrow Darla, correct?”
“Yeah, but there is one drawback. The Alliance won’t let us go without an escort.”
“Who have they chosen?” He asked, disdain coating his words.
“King Micah, Glimmer’s dad.”
Hordak’s ears pinned against his head as all the blood fell from his face. Micah hated Hordak, evident from the dirty looks he gave Hordak, and how he avoided Hordak like the plague. Hordak didn’t blame him. He would hate himself too, if one of his inventions trapped his beloved in between dimensions. Hordak was also aware of his banishment to Beast Island. During a battle, after Hordak started to focus more on his portal, King Micah was captured, but before anyone told him, Shadow Weaver sent him to Beast Island. Hordak knew of the witch’s past with the monarch but never thought she would send him to that accursed island. He conveniently found out after the war when Shadow Weaver was dead and gone. He really should have fired her ages ago. He shouldn’t have employed her in the first place.
Nevertheless, Micah was furious with him, and Hordak couldn’t blame him.
“What’s wrong? Micah’s not going to try and fight you. Just don’t go anywhere with him alone.”
“It is not that I am worried he will fight me. I just do not want him to be there, especially today.”
“Come on, Micah is nice. He was always respectful to me, and I was a part of the Horde.”
Hordak gave her a small smile. While her sins could never match his, he appreciated the sentiment.
——————————————
Micah sat in the cockpit of the ship as it flew to Dryl. He didn’t want to be doing this. He wished he was in Brightmoon sleeping in and being with his friends and family, but no. He had to chaperone two adults across the galaxy. One of them being Hordak of all people. He hated that man. If it wasn’t for his war he could have raised his family in peace. If it wasn’t for his portal he could still have his wife with him. Don’t get him wrong, he sympathizes with Hordak’s relationship with his parents, but it doesn’t excuse any of his actions.
He wished someone else had this task, but he was the only one available. Adora and Bow were off helping the villages in the whispering woods, General Juliet had her duties, and the rest were taking care of their kingdoms. He was the only one available.
Nevertheless, he will have to deal with him for the day. Then he can go back home and be with his family.
“*You have arrived at your destination.*” Micah’s looked up.
“Thank you… Darla.”
He walked out of the ship to greet the couple. Entrapta was clad in her usual top and overalls. Hordak’s eyes, framed in black eyeliner, had returned to his piercing crimson. He wore a crisp, white button-up tucked in black dress pants. His hair is in a long braid. Micah still couldn’t get used to this new look.
“Hordak.”
“Micah.” The two men locked eyes, seeing who will look away first. Entrapta stood in the middle. Her gaze bounced between the two.
“Thank you for accompanying us, Micah.” Hordak delivered curtly.
“Not a problem,” Micah answered his tone as plastic as his smile.
“Ready to go?” Entrapta asked, aware of the awkward tension.
“Yes.” The two men exclaimed. This is going to be a long trip, the three of them thought.
6 notes · View notes
r1999-transcript · 4 months
Text
Worn Teeth And Old Marks 03 - Rearview Mirror
John: Mom!
John’s Mother: John! Why did you … Are you …?
Tooth Fairy: Nice to meet you, ma’am. You may call me Tooth Fairy.
The new car was still marvellous … How could a child who looked and really was malnourished ever damage it? From the motel to Mare Town, it took only three minutes driving, and it didn’t even need to be at full power. Despite the name, it’s a stretch to call this place a town.
John's Mother: Hiss … *cough* … John, help me up …
Tooth Fairy: No, don’t bother … just lie down, ma’am.
A few families scattered in the wilderness. The cracks in the wooden doors were once filled with layers of sand and gravel, and turned into a board of pinkish yellow. On the way here, John told me about how the family was stricken with poverty. Indeed, it’s not difficult to tell from his figure.
John: Mom! Look, my tooth fell out!
But the reality was still much worse than I thought.
John: You sit here, next to Mom!
The house was not bigger than the stables I had seen. Lights were the only electrical equipment. Time seemed to cease here. John’s mother was lying on the only furniture in the room, like a solitary raisin on a plate.
John’s Mother: If John did anything wrong, I am very sorry …
Tooth Fairy: No, ma’am. I should be the one to apologise …
John: Ms. Tooth Fairy is a doctor. She’s also an arcanist, just like Grandma Susie! There’re a lot of flying grannies in her jar …
John’s Mother: John.
John: Okay, Mom … I’ll go get some water!
Tooth Fairy: If you don’t mind, please allow me to do a few simple checks for you. Please don’t worry … I am an arcanist, and also a medical student.
John’s Mother: You … *cough* … Okay. *cough* … Good, good …
Tooth Fairy: If you feel painful, please do not hold back.
John’s Mother: …
Disease is cruel. It takes the unfortunate by the throat without distinction of any kind, and gradually squeezes the necks of the weak.
John’s Mother: Uh … ah ah … it hurts … ah ah …
Then the pain was there to deprive them of the dignity … making their decrease more naked than their birth.
Tooth Fairy: Ma’am, please close your eyes, and open your mouth.
No need for more professional instruments. The shape of death is clearly palpable in the horrible surroundings and through her descriptions. For the incurable diseases, death is never the most frightening part.
Tooth Fairy: John … Come here. Hold your mother.
The boy was swift and experienced. His behaviour revealed a sense of indifference that he himself barely knew. … Children were not supposed to be more of an expert of these than toffee. During the whole day there, almost all the tooth fairies I brought were consumed.
Tooth Fairy: Your mother is sleeping for now.
John: Well … It’s not just today … She suffers like this every day. In the evening, especially late at night.
Tooth Fairy: … I’m sorry.
John: Is there nothing you can do either?
Tooth Fairy: John, doctors aren’t omnipotent. … Nor are those little things with wings. No delay, adequate dosage, and no complications … All three are equally important. I think your mother probably knows about her illness better than me … and she knows you better. That’s why she allowed me to do the checks for her.
John: …
The sunset glow tinted the sky with a pinkish hue that matched the colour of the rock. The temperature varied greatly in Texas and was often difficult to adapt to. The heat of the day had long faded. The breeze with silver sand even felt a little chilly.
John: Can you wait for me here?
Tooth Fairy: No problem. I will sit here until the sun goes down.
The boy returned much faster than I thought.
John: This is for you.
Tooth Fairy: This is …?
John: I traded two packs of Toto’s hair for it from Grandma Susie. She said it was the tooth of a rare beast. And she also said … if you prayed to it devoutly, all requests would be granted. I prayed to it every night for my Mom to get better … But it must be because I caught the beetles twice and didn’t pray … so it didn’t work.
Tooth Fairy: Well … This is a Ropen’s tooth.
John: A Ropen’s tooth …?
Tooth Fairy: It’s indeed very rare. Ropen is a type of pterodactyl that inhabits the rocks of Umboi Island, with a long beak and sharp claws.
John: Whoa …
Tooth Fairy: They also have huge wings, and will glow like phosphorescence at night …
The Ropen’s tooth that the boy held possessed a rough enamel and an abnormal size. Apparently it’s an artificial toy. However, even if this is real, it’s impossible that all requests would be granted. It’s probably just a psychological comfort to a child given by a kind senior.
John: Have a safe trip, Ms. Tooth Fairy!
I saw the boy’s figure in the rearview mirror getting smaller and smaller, and finally disappeared into the exhaust. That fake Ropen’s tooth is still a treasure among my collections. Even for a while after that, it was worth more than anything else.
2 notes · View notes
Text
trigger warning: medical procedure, gynecology
been thinking about the insertion of my IUD a lot recently. my doctor assured me the procedure lasted no longer than five minutes, but that stretched into nearly 20.
my gynecologist kept telling me that the reason it’s taking such a long time and the reason it’s so painful is that my cervix wasn’t “opening like it’s supposed to”. this Trained Medical Professional and her assistants were all women, and they all started scolding me to open my cervix. idk how to open my cervix. and they offered no help. they were condescending and unsympathetic.
“just open your cervix, ok, honey? then we can place the IUD in your uterus.” “you gotta open up that cervix for us, sweetie! work with us here!”
it was humiliating and painful. at one point, i said “maybe we should just stop” but they told me that they were so, so close (they weren’t) and i agreed to keep going. my mom had to hold me down. and i wasn’t allowed to take any pain medication or stress relievers before the procedure.
these were my doctors. i trusted these women with my body. what was supposed to be quicker than a pap smear turned into a freaking nightmare, in which sharp metal objects were being shoved inside me. they made me bleed and told me it was because i “moved around so much”. they laughed when they were done and made me feel weak for being in pain. i was crying and sweating, and when we got home i passed out for several hours.
EDIT: i reblogged this with my second IUD insertion awhile back. but not everyone sees it. it went much more smoothly because i had pain meds, and a more respectful doctor. it lasted two minutes and i barely felt anything. i just wanted to add this, in case someone was considering an IUD. just make sure they give you some pain meds and you’ll be fine!! i’m getting IUDs until menopause now lol
15 notes · View notes
notabled-noodle · 2 years
Note
I am the person from a few days ago who was struggling to differentiate between allistic and autistic versions of autistic traits. The problem for me with the autism criteria in trying to figure out between allistic and autistic is that while I meet the criteria for part B and relationships in part A, I feel my differences in social-emotional reciprocity and nonverbal skills are more a lack of interest. This is multiple long paragraphs, so feel free to skip to the Too long; did not read at the end or to just ignore this ask. It has always been my belief that expectations of a service should be proportional to cost, and as you are free you have no obligation to reply. Also, I know other diagnoses are a possibility, and I am officially diagnosed with ADHD, but it does not seem to fit well and based on the complete lack of effect from medication I doubt it is the cause of my issues.
I cannot tell what my listener is feeling. But I think it is not because I cannot identify emotions, but more because I do not care. I do not think I had to spend too long to figure out emotions but I do not care what people are feeling, and I have always thought it was better to listen to people’s words anyway because that is the real, chosen communication. I do find small talk boring and pointless, but I bet many people do, they only go along with it because it is expected of them, like thanking people for bad gifts, and funerals and dress codes. Who cares if someone wears stretch pants and a t-shirt and is also a lawyer. It does not indicate one's skill to wear a suit. It actually just indicates how wealthy one is. Plus it seems wrong to talk about how important women, trans people, and poor people are before talking about how dress codes are professional when they seem to be used against women, trans people, and poor people. Plus I believe things like the argument of professionalism are used against people of colour, like encouraging Black people to alter their natural hair and while I admit I have not researched this, would restrictions on hair length not impact Sikhs, who I believe are not permitted to cut their hair. Plus differing standards of hair based on gender reinforce gender binaries and can harm trans people. And haircuts are expensive, and even more expensive for women, I believe. Plus the focus on women covering their bodies is sexist and part of victim blaming, and also seems hypocritical when people try to ban Islamic women's body coverings like burkinis and hijabs, or force women's teams to wear more revealing uniforms. There is nothing sexist about a woman choosing to wear revealing clothing or a hijab. It is only sexist when people try and take women's choice away and so in restricting choice, the dress code is clearly sexist. And even if exceptions are made, there is a wrongness in that. Because not everyone can prove they are what they say they are. It can put pressure on trans people to need to be sure about gender instead of being free to explore, and maybe someone needs dress code exceptions due to disability, but not everyone has the means to prove disability, and really why are such arbitrary rules like dress code used when clothing says nothing about actual capability. I also focus more on correct use of words in conversation, but that is actually very important. When things are ill-defined how can we have a reasonable argument. I have also been told I go a bit far in making arguments in debate, and some people have found it rude when I attempted to get them to define something more accurately. But they should have told me if it was too much. How am I supposed to know they want me to stop if they do not tell me? I do struggle to initiate conversations, but I think it might be due to a sense of discomfort around strangers. I can initiate conversation more easily with people I know. I think it helps that small talk can be skipped over and we can head straight to the ethics questions or monologues about what I learned. But again, I think it might be a mix of social discomfort and getting bored with people, not that I cannot do it, but I do not want to.
I can make eye contact. I dislike it with strangers, but it is harmless with people I am more familiar with but I still only make it on occasion. Not because it is difficult, but I really do not see the point in looking at who you are talking too. This might also be why I do not feel what they feel during conversations, because I guess I make no effort to look. It just seems like a weird thing to enforce, but I can do it. I can do facial expressions. I have actively sought to add new ones to my repertoire by observing television. There is an occasional mismatch between tone and facial expression with me, but I can do correct tone with little effort. I find mostly that my face is neutral, and my tone is flat, but if I am interested in the topic I can sound excited and I think my face may be more expressive. I am also good at using a sarcastic tone, though I have found that by saying odd statements in my neutral voice they can be occasionally mistaken for sarcastic jokes even though I meant them seriously. But I again think that my nonverbal differences are more due to lack of interest than an actual inability. I think my nonverbal communication used to be worse, but when I decided to improve it in my late teens, I did not find it difficult to incorporate new body language, so it really does seem to come from a lack of interest instead of an incapability like in autism.
I never really fit in with other people, but it also never troubled me. Many people are very illogical, and overly attached to traditions and ideas they refuse to question. Sometimes it feels like I am better than them, and that if they could be like me they would be happier. And they do things wrong. I have watched so many times as people choose inefficient methods to perform tasks, and they never let me be in charge even though I am better. I found it extremely frustrating in high school and when I worked to be in groups with others because they would not do things my way, and I have the superior methods. If I could be left alone and completely in control I would be at my best. But also, when they give me a task they are too open-ended I struggle. They never clearly explain what they want, and they say stuff like "Go above and beyond," but if they want something specific done they should say so. If I asked for something to be done and someone added on to it without first discussing it with me I would be angry. And it is mentally exhausting to have to listen to people’s complaints about no one liking them, or weddings being expensive even though they chose to make it important and expensive, and how they are sad they have acne (I understand for the more painful kind, but I still have acne as an adult and it only adds extra details to the face to better distinguish me from the masses). And they never like talking about interesting things like death or ethics or questioning how our morality is developed and what the nature of good is. People deeply annoy me for this reason because they are so different in such a wrong way and they are not like me but they keep treating me like one of them. They called me callous, but I think I have more sympathy than them. I actively think about morality and apply logic to it and think about things all the time and actually make an effort to learn. And it seems to be more painful to me to do so, because I liked the more rigid way I used to see the world and I want to treat people like me instead of the way they seem to actually want to be treated. They taught me that you cannot assume what people want or how they feel based on what you as an individual want and feel because I was different, but because they have always been the majority they never even stop to think that I might be different and not want the pathetic things they want.
I hoped autism would be an explanation I could use. I do actually struggle. I work so hard to be less rigid and to be more sympathetic even though my way is better, but I get nothing for it and it is so easy to fall back into the way I used to be an I have to relearn and get used to caring and being flexible again and all the while people keep adding on to that and being wrong and it is so frustrating to always have to change for other people, especially when my way is better and their way is wrong and illogical. I hate being around people and I need time alone. I feel uncomfortable around those I am not familiar with and it is exhausting to have to put up with them at work or school. And I do have issues with sound and taste, and I would like those properly acknowledged. I have to be careful to get enough nutrients through supplements because I tend to eat restricted selection of good texture and taste foods and it is easy to fall into the trap of safer foods being too much effort to make so I skip meals, and then I am even more tired and making food is too much effort again. And people make so much noise and it is unpleasant and distracting and while I do use subtle earplugs they do not shut everything out completely and people feel I am being disrespectful even when I can hear conversation perfectly fine with my earplugs in. And they do not like it when I tell them to talk more quietly, even though they think it is perfectly acceptable to tell me to talk louder. Having to be around people and dealing with the sensory stuff is very draining. I start to feel unmotivated and disconnected after long periods of being around them. I felt miserable in high school, and when the pandemic came we were more isolated I was happier, but when they had us come back to university campus everything got bad again. People try to tell me I am depressed, but my low moods are very tied to what is going on around me. If people left me alone and if I could get accommodations, I might do better.
Too long; did not read: I do struggle with social stuff and have always felt very different, and it is hard for me to be around people and very exhausting, but I feel I do not truly meet the autism criteria, because my emotional and nonverbal skills are more absent due to lack of interest and understanding of purpose instead of true inability. I do feel I would benefit from some formal acknowledgement of difference and my traits are difficult for me, but they also do not seem to be autism enough and I am uncertain of what to do. I do feel an official diagnosis I can use of anything would help, because no one will listen to me without proof. Thank you for your time. Your efforts are appreciated, and I understand if you have nothing to contribute and would rather ignore this ask.
mate… this is pretty much textbook autism. lack of interest in other people and desire to do things in a strictly logical fashion are also traits associated with a couple personality disorders, so if you’re looking for something else to check as an alternative diagnosis, try:
obsessive compulsive personality disorder
schizotypal personality disorder
narcissistic personality disorder
that being said, nothing you’ve said would exclude you from an autism diagnosis. there is no reason that everything you describe could be solely due to autism. I’ll include some quotes from the DSM that might help you!
first — “deficits in developing, maintaining, and understanding relationships, including… lack of interest in peers”
many autistic people are completely uninterested in other people. many autistic people hate most people. many autistic people are completely unbothered about the idea of friendships and other relationships. personally, I love my friends… but I’ve never gone out of my way to form a friendship. this is not uncommon.
it’s also quite common for autistic people to take communication “at face value”. that is — listening to the words people are saying as is. this can mean not reading tones or emotions when communicating to others. in turn, we often expect that others will take us at face value, and can get frustrated when people try to read too deeply into statements we make.
second — “difficulties adjusting behaviour to suit various social contexts”
to a non-autistic person, it may seem as though we’re being rude or disrespectful on purpose, but this is often due to misreading social rules and social hierarchies.
autistic people often struggle to learn and process social rules, so many of them just seem nonsensical. you’re right… why should certain clothes be associated with a different status? why should we treat some people with more respect than others?
these social and cultural rules are naturally brought into question when you have to learn almost every social rule by rote. this means we often end up picking and choosing which rules to follow based on which ones actually make sense to us… hence being treated as though we’re being disrespectful for not following a rule that makes zero sense.
third — this is not in the DSM, but you must remember that many autistic people are able to mask
autistic people tend to be good at finding and copying patterns. for some autistic people, this extends to human behaviour.
as a child, I talked like someone from a Victorian novel, so I learnt how to talk more casually by watching TV. I learnt slang terms and body language from Dawson’s Creek and Saved By The Bell. unfortunately, I solely watched 90s and early 2000s shows, so my masking wasn’t super effective.
learning social skills in such a deliberate and practiced fashion is not regular allistic behaviour. most non-autistic people are able to learn these skills as children, simply by watching and copying those around them. it comes a lot more naturally to them, so they rarely have to go out of their way to deliberately learn these skills.
other autistic traits you seem to have are:
strict moral code
happier when isolated
hating group work
getting exhausted from socialising
needing clear instructions
TLDR; nothing you’ve said would be any reason to bring an autism diagnosis to doubt. many autistic people lack interest in social things, and many autistic people get confused about why others get offended by their more logical approach. I think you should investigate the possibility of an autism diagnosis
34 notes · View notes
oncetherenowhere · 14 days
Text
Feeling this stressed out and bad all the time can't be good for me.
I don't know how to relax. When I have free time, I do absolutely nothing, but I feel like I'm in a tense, frozen space. Meditating and stretching helps, but it feels like a band-aid. When even relaxing becomes something active that you need to do with purpose to build the habits, it just...I don't know, it feels like I can't get a break. I'm so sad that my chest physically hurts. I get so anxious that it makes my stomach hurt, or makes me nauseated. There's always something aching. Nobody seems to care or understand. Even medical professionals seem to shrug.
I feel like there's no place for me in this world. There's no right way for me to exist. I've been trying to come to terms with my autism...I've spent my entire life fighting it and trying to be neurotypical, but I can't physically do it anymore. It's just hard when nobody understands. I'm either tense, but somewhat socially accepted, or I'm Myself, but treated with cruelty, and therefore I'm tense again. Everyone is quick to point out my flaws, my behaviors, the things I should fix, why I'm wrong, wrong, wrong...but if I do something like tell someone they hurt my feelings, they hurt me back even worse.
I don't feel human. I've talked about it a lot on this blog, but it just doesn't stop. I don't feel like a human being. When someone is respectful to me, I think about it for weeks afterwards. My one coworker is very kind to me, and it genuinely makes me cry when I'm alone because it's so lovely. Even then, I'm scared of hitting the limit, and getting to a point where she realizes I'm not worth the effort.
I'm always scared that H will hit his limit, too. I think his family is exasperated by me. I'm certainly not the partner they wanted their loved one to marry. I have so little to offer. I'm awkward, and not personable, and don't get social cues. They get frustrated with me. I've tried to explain myself, but they forget. I told his mother that I have a stutter and a hard time talking, and she still pokes fun at it whenever it happens, despite me trying to tell her it hurts...when I tell her it hurts, she feels bad and apologizes, but then she forgets and does it again, and then gets frustrated with me for being sensitive. I told her that I'd love to see her more often, but that I need plans to be made in advance, and she'll still surprise us with day-of offers and nothing else. She talks about how much accommodations have helped her in her workplace, since she has ADHD, so I thought she'd understand that I'm in a similar situation, but it feels like I'm not worth accommodations. It feels like I'm not worth anything. I'm not even worth getting my feelings hurt, because then that makes everyone else feel bad.
I feel like everyone would be happier if I was a statue, or a robot. The horrible thing is? I wish I was. If I had the choice to take away the pain and effort, I would one hundred percent live fully for everyone else, and ignore my own needs and desires. It feels more comfortable, even when it hurts me.
I can't even answer basic questions about myself without feeling nervous. "What do you do for fun?" I don't. I can't say the wrong thing. I'm nothing. I'm a nothing person. I'll be whatever you want.
I know this just come across as bitter and angry, but I'm really just depressed and tired. I'm more angry at myself than anything else. I'm feeling bad to the point of it physically aching me. I feel alone.
0 notes
jarofstyles · 3 years
Note
hey besties, pls do a football player Harry (soccer in case ur american lol) and physical therapist y/n !!
I know absolute shit all about football (soccer bc we are American) but we can give it a go!!! Plz don’t be mad I don’t know anything about it cause it’s ✨make believe ✨
If you like this, check out our Patreon!
—-
He was a little shit.
A beautiful, charming, irritating, little shit.
When Y/N has signed on for this team, being the medic was something she had been passionate about for years. Having her own accident and making it so she couldn’t properly play anymore, it was her mission to still be involved in the game so how. Y/N’s own injury and healing process had her become more and more interested in the profession, and here she was.
It wasn’t everything she had dreamed of, as nothing ever was, but it was good. She got to sit field-side every game, close to the action. And every injury she got first look at. She helped the guys with their stretches, their previous injuries and keeping them from Re-injuring themselves, taking care of them and making sure their physical shape was the best it could be.
In general? She was happy. But there was one man who was a thorn in her side and a pain in her crotch.
Harry Styles.
The man who decided it was his personal mission to follow her around like a puppy dog. Popping up in her singular moments of peace during game day. Texting her and asking about very, very small twists of ankles and giving her the ‘🥺 maybe you should come and look at it…’ whenever he did so.
Not to mention his complete and utter want to get into her pants.
Now it wasn’t as if she couldn’t handle a few sexual jokes. Y/N was a big girl and knew 99% of the time, the guys on the team knew their limit. And Harry? Harry, in reality, was a gentleman. Never touched her inappropriately, ever. But the problem was… she kind of wanted him to.
There was no actual clause against staff members and players being together or hooking up. Nope, just frowned upon. Maybe a slap on the wrist. However Y/N knew, she knew that the moment anyone caught wind of her potential affections for any team member or acting on it? It would end with everyone thinking she slept with them to get the job.
Y/N worked long and hard. Tireless hours for make sure these men were healthy, fit, and at their best. She wouldn’t sleep with anyone for any job, and she was actually respected by this team which was something a lot of women weren’t in this field. She could not and would not throw it away for a good dicking.
Fuck, did she want to sometimes.
—-
Harry had these hands. The perfect hands, in her opinion. Big, strong with thinner fingers. Long fingers. A good sized palm, not overly veiny, just perfection in male hand scales. Luckily (or unluckily, whatever way you’d put it) she got to handle them often.
“S’sore today, doc.” He winced, sitting on the table in front of her. Harry’s wrist throbbed. It was rainy, and it was usually a wreck when it was the perfect condition. The ache was annoying, and he knew she had a solution.
Her lips pouted softly as she gently took the hand in place, thumbing over the part of the wrist where rhe injury had occurred. She had learned a while ago where to press, how to rub and get it to lessen before she wrapped it up. “Yeah… old injuries tend to never let you forget.” She sighed, pushing her glasses up into her hair.
Harry never could get over how fucking gorgeous Y/N was. From her nose to her lips, the pretty sparkle in her eye, the curve of her hip… he was obsessed. Not to mention the fact that she was so gentle with him. So kind and sweet, though he knew he got on her nerves with his teasing sometime. She could handle it and he always tried to watch to make sure he wasn’t going too far, but he couldn’t help it.
He was a silly boy with a bit fat crush.
Y/N didn’t bite for any of them. Everyone had attempted when she first came on, testing the waters. Her pretty face was welcome to all the blokes in the team, and there was something incredibly attractive about a woman who could heal. Nonetheless, she never gave in to anything.
In Harry’s case, he knew it was different. He could see her smile at some jokes, see her get the bumps on her skin when he brushed her a certain way. But she avoided the eye contact. Avoided the touches. And it drove him mad.
Of course she wouldn’t know he had actual feelings for him because he was a giant coward most of the time. He hid his affection in the dirty jokes and the teasing squeezes of her waist and teasing. He was a thick skinned man but a full rejection form her would hurt.
Her soft fingers gently massaged over the wrist, making him groan. His head tilted back and he let it out, hissing slightly when she pressed too hard. “Oooh, don’t worry sweetheart. Y’know I like it to hurt a little.” His wide smirk made her roll her eyes huffing under her breath.
Y/N was not having a great day. She had been harassed by an Ex all fucking night over her new job. Making all the damn assumptions that she was getting ‘trained by the team’ in a much more vulgar way, and she had cried half the night. To say she wasn’t in the mood was an understatement, but she was trying.
Harry was not what she needed today, because it made her feel worse. Her blatant attraction to him made her feel guilty. She should be professional and leave it with. The way she had squeeze her legs tighter while he groaned didn’t help her case. The ugly words of how they’ only kept her around for a potential fuck’ was ringing in her head.
Harry though, he was a little oblivious. Her hands were so talented, and he didn’t watch her face for once as she hit a good spot again and he let out another remark.
“Jesus, that’s good. Do those magic hands work everywhere?”
That was the straw that broke her. It wasn’t his fault necessarily, he was just playing. But her eyes watered, hand yanking away as she turned from him, walking over to the bench. Trying to compose herself was hard as the tears burned so hard in her eyes, hands shaking slightly.
Harry startled, not used to that. She never flinched away like that, never ignored his remark and walked away. Usually told him to fuck off, rolled her eyes, something. But the energy in the room immediately shifted and he was uncomfortable. What had happened?
Cautiously, he cleared his throat and stood up from the bench, licking over his dry lips as he spoke again. “Uh… Y/N?”
“S’all I’m good for, right?” She muttered under her breath. Frantically wiping under her eyes she tried to focus on the paper in front of her but she could feel Harry approaching.
He furrowed his brow, not sure if he heard correctly. “Wha-“
Y/N whipped around fast, eyes teary and wet. “I said, that’s all I’m good for right? Only good for my hands and sex and all that pleasure you can get from me?” She hissed. “Only good for a romp in the sheets and a pretty face to heal your wounds and put on band aids. Only good to make you get off and feel good and then what? I’m left here with nothing.”
The tears left her, her hands shaking as she grabbed her bag. Harry felt his stomach drop. Never, ever had he wanted to make her feel like that. Her crying? That wasn’t something he ever wanted to see again. He felt like he had taken a ball to the gut, hard. Those eyes he adored being full of pain, full of tears was his own personal hell.
“Y/N… wait, I’m so sorry, I didn’t-“ he tried to follow her to the door, stopping abruptly when she lifted a hand up to him. Her stomping had made him nervous. Now she was leaving without talking to him and he felt like a complete dick. It was their normal teasing, but he had crossed a line.
“Don’t. Just…. Just leave me alone. I’m going home.”
—-
As much as Harry had wanted to chase after her, he had already made her cry once. He wasn’t risking it again.
The icky, gross feeling in his stomach followed him all day. He was gutted. Not only has he apparently crossed a line with someone he respected, he had a fucking crush on her. The man was convinced no other feeling was worse than a crush being angry at him. Even if it sounded juvenile to place it like that.
Harry liked Y/N. He never ever wanted to make her upset in any capacity, let alone feeling like a sex object or violated. He prided himself on respecting women. And he had fucking failed. He needed to make it right, and fast.
-
He had found her address. In her employee file, and he knew that was bad but he needed to check on her. Regardless of what happened beforehand, she was upset by him enough to leave and go home and he wanted to make sure she was genuinely okay.
It was an overstep and Harry knew it. He had to try, though.
He arrived at her door step with a box of cupcakes and some flowers. Gently kicking the floor, he heard the door open and his heart broke a little more.
Y/N standing in front of him with swollen eyes. She had been crying, seemingly a lot. And she looked upset still. Though he expected her to close the door in his face and tell him to fuck off. But she didn’t.
Instead, she broke into tears again, throwing herself into his chest. Her arms wrapping around his waist, he nearly tumbled over but righted himself as he startled. Quickly he found himself recovering, wrapping his free arm around her and holding her. He was able to maneuver slightly and drop the cupcakes on her entry table, flowers as well before having his arms free.
“Hey…. Sweetheart, what’s the matter?” He whispered softly, gently placing a hand on her back. Rubbing it up and down, letting her cry into his tee shirt. It was worrying. Whatever happened was beyond him, but he wasn’t going to let that take away from the fact he had added and made it worse.
“I’m sorry.” Her muffled response was sobbed into his shirt. “I’m sorry for yelling… and saying you thought those things, you were playing and I…” she pulled back worth tear streaked cheeks and Harry’s look of pure concern making her lip wobble. “You didn’t do it. It was… he kept sayin’ that all the team wants is in my pants, and you make me feel guilty because you’re so…. Beautiful, and I never slept with anyone to get this job! Never. And then he wouldn’t leave me alone-“ she hiccuped, looking up at Harry as he caressed the back of her head.
“Who, lovely? Who wouldn’t leave you alone?” He asked with a calm tone. Of course he wasn’t. Someone was harassing her. And Harry would fucking take care of it. It boiled his blood to think of someone making her feel less than.
“My ex.” She sniffled again, slowly calming. Harry had that quality, she thinks. “He-He broke up with me for taking the job. Said… said that I was going to be a personal whore for all of you. And not do my job.” She took a shuddery breath. It was embarrassing admitting this to him, but he had been on the receiving end for a meltdown that wasn’t his to fix.
“Well, can I tell you something?” He brought his thumb up to wipe away some of the sticky tears from her cheeks. “You arent. You’re no one’s whore. You’re a respected, talented and intelligent member of our staff. You so happen to be incredibly beautiful, which obviously makes people find you more bewitching… but I know that we all look at you as a professional talent. They may have tried their luck at the beginning but you laid down the law quickly and they all understood.” He whispered.
“Me? I was trying my luck, because you’re incredible. And I think you’re lovely. But that isn’t a conversation for now. Let’s make some tea, hm? Relax. I brought you some cupcakes. I need to properly apologize for being inappropriate to you. Regardless if it was a joke…”
He sat next to her on her couch. The poor girl was better now, washing her face and a mug of tea in hand while Harry had helped himself to a vase and put the flowers inside. Carnations. He thought they were pretty, didn’t know the name until Y/N had fawned over them.
“I’m sorry for freaking out on you.” She said softly, her big sweatshirt swallowing her up. Before Harry could interrupt, she put a finger up. “I know that you were just playing, Harry. I let you flirt with me like that. And I enjoy it.” She could feel herself get warm in the face. “If you’ve noticed, I let you get away with it. I enjoy it. And you didn’t do anything out of line. I was sensitive… I was still raw and I hadn’t had much sleep because he had blown up my phone and regardless he was telling me things he said in person over and over again. So…” Y/N shifted in her seat and used her sweater paws to bring the drink to her lips. “When you came in… I felt guilty for finding you attractive. For liking what you said to me.”
Harry sat for a moment, quiet. So she had liked it…. And felt guilty. Now knowing the context? It made sense. For the life of him he was trying not to hold in to the fact that she enjoyed it, but he couldn’t. It made him excited.
“Okay. That makes sense. Usually.. I do a better job at reading your physical cues. Sometimes I can see something isn’t the right thing to say because you’re tense already. But I was in my own world cause you were making the pain go away and I felt good. It isn’t an excuse, though.” He gently grabbed her hand once she set down her warm tee, thumbing over the knuckles.
“I felt like such a dick. I still do. You know that? And it isn’t because I’m attracted to you. But it’s because I didn’t think about the position I’m putting you in by flirting.” He moved a little closer. “I would never try and jeopardize your job. I’ve been blinded by my own feelings for a while and I was trying to feel it out but I didn’t think to think it was because someone else or a group of people would look down at you for it.” He frowned.
It was so unfair. They wouldn’t care if he slept with her. But they’d ridicule her for sleeping with him.
“I just want to let you know now as well… I wasn’t trying to come on to you to have a hookup.” He hummed. “The feelings I’ve got are genuine. Alright? They aren’t just too get into your pants. And I never want you to feel as though that’s your only purpose. Ever. You have so much worth, and while I’m positive you don’t need me to tell you that, I want tok anyways.”
He was unreal. She really thinks so. How did a man just… be like him. He was a fan favorite and had charm but behind the scenes he was even better than anything they said.
“Yeah. I think I was afraid. Because… I’m the same, you know?” She shyly admitted. “You’re charming and I didn’t want to admit I let your charm get to me, but it has. It has very much. And I like you. I don’t know what to do about it, but I think it’s only fair I admit it myself as well when you’ve put yourself out on the line.”
Harry’s grin grew, dimples pocketing in his cheeks. She liked him back. His heart was ringing in his ears, the shy little look into her eyes making him want to explode. Fucking adorable girl making him feel such intense emotions…. It was incredible.
Thank god. He thought he was going insane.
“We don’t have to do anything in the sense of our job right now. But since we both know… would you want to explore it? I would say privately. Just get to know each other better. Talk. Hang out. Cook food together… maybe kiss.” He smirked slightly at the end, making her let out a laugh. Her laugh soothed his Damn soul.
“I think I’d like that.”
——
Part II maybe? Who knows
719 notes · View notes
mishkakagehishka · 2 years
Text
Horrortober Day 4: Needle
Repost from my old blog
I’m so sorry, Jakurai would literally never… but I saw the prompt and immediately thought of those doctors that just go “it’s okay, you can squeeze my hand/knee if it hurts!” if they notice you’re afraid of needles and. That, he would. Prompts here.
Fandom: Hypnosis Mic -Division Rap Battle- Pairing: Jakurai Jinguuji / GN reader Word count: 1314 Quote given: “It’s just a tiny sting. You won’t notice it at all.” Summary: Dr Jinguuji had always had a fascination with people he found interesting. He was simply drawn to intriguing and unique folks. This time, however, the person he was drawn to was less fascinating on their own, and more fascinating because of his own feelings towards them. He’s still abiding by “do no harm” if the harm is done for a good reason, right? Warnings: drugging, medical malpractice, doctors abusing the trustworthiness of their position, written more from Jakurai’s POV so a lot of “excusing” his actions
Disclaimer: this goes without saying, but I feel like I should say it all the same - yandere is just a synonym for toxic, unhealthy and abusive. I do not condone any such behaviour, I simply find it an interesting horror trope, and I try to portray it as something scary and scarring, not romantic or as something to aspire towards.
Work at the hospital was hectic today, as well. With a sigh, Jakurai stretched, his spine popping from not moving, still sat in that uncomfortable chair at his small desk. He knew the peaceful times when he could breathe freely never lasted long, so he opted to take full advantage of this one, having already sent the nurse on an early break. He tapped his knee, glancing at the clock. There was not much time left until his shift was over, but he was still on edge. He was wondering if they were going to come around again.
It started happening six or seven months ago, actually. He started getting something the other doctors, jokingly, called a reoccurring patient. “If you can’t find anything wrong with them,” one of his colleagues said, “you should just refer them to a psychologist. It could be health anxiety.” He heard that advice well enough, but… it was hard to explain even to himself. They were simply so intriguing, he felt the need to see them as often as possible, so, even when the initial reason for their coming was solved, Jakurai told them to still come in regularly for check-ups.
“Just to make sure everything is healing up well,” he said at that time. And the first few times they came around, he did feel bad about it, just slightly. But he couldn’t deny how drawn to them he was. He felt as if he just had to see them, time and time again. And so, somehow, Jakurai managed to get them to always return. With every visit, he could sense them becoming more comfortable with him, opening up bit by bit. Chatting came naturally, though he’d always remind them to come again in a few days, just to keep everything in check. To be honest, he was wondering how it is that they still trusted him, especially as they must have realised they felt perfectly fine.
He hummed to himself, turning around on the swivel chair and sliding over to the other side of the desk, his thoughts still full of his reoccurring patient. Of course, he wasn’t a fool nor a teenager anymore, he knew well enough what had happened at one point. The initial fascination with them, the need to see them again and again, it had all quickly grown into a more overwhelming feeling. He wanted to call it love, but he couldn’t deny the oddity of “love” encompassing such a strong need to have them in his sight at all times, to have them belong only to him, to the point where he’d even abuse his trustworthiness as a medical professional, just to see them. It was more like an obsession, even he was aware of it, but… that obsession must have been born out of love. In any case, he knew that, love or not, his thoughts had crossed many lines by now, and it’s not that he didn’t care. He just felt as if being with them was more important than any moral grievances he’d have with himself. After all, if the goal is noble, the means don’t matter. That’s what Jakurai told himself as he tapped the vial of a sedative he had prepared in advance. He had a sort of plan, a way to truly be able to keep them for himself, to be able to study their fascinating being all he wanted.
As if on cue, a knock on the door signalled the arrival of the next patient. Jakurai perked up, his mood, and the fatigue, instantly lifting when he saw the familiar face entering his office. “Hello,” they greeted politely, quietly. “Good afternoon. Here, take a seat while I get your results from last time.” As the patient sat on the exam table, really, the only other seat in his office, he made the stride over to the cabinets. Again, they chatted about random things. They were just telling him about an incident at their own workplace, something to do with a co-worker getting in trouble with the boss. It wasn’t as interesting as the parts of their life that had directly to do with them, but Jakurai liked hearing them speak all the same.
“Here we go,” he said soon enough. “We took a blood sample, didn’t we?” He went on to explain the ‘diagnosis’ using a bunch of medical terms he knew the patient wasn’t familiar with anyway. They just nodded along, pretending to understand what it all meant. Despite their convincing act, Jakurai had to hide his need to laugh, his amusement only growing. “Really, the results are the same as what was already told to you over the phone, right?” “Yeah, um, I was also told… I’d be getting some injection? Is that still supposed to happen?” the patient started fidgeting, just a little, and Jakurai couldn’t keep down the small laughter this time. It was nothing mocking, however, just pure intrigue and amusement. “I did not want to say anything, but I noticed it last time; you are scared of needles, aren’t you?” “Well, I wouldn’t say that,” they trailed off. “It is nothing to be embarrassed of. You are neither the first nor will you be the last adult who came to me with that fear.” He went back to the desk, putting on a new pair of gloves before uncapping the vial he prepared in advance. He filled the syringe in silence, tapping it once, twice, to get rid of the air bubbles before glancing back at the patient. Truth be told, he decided specifically on this idea because he thought the way they squinted and winced while having their blood drawn was incredibly interesting. Jakurai wondered just what other sorts of reactions he could pull out of them.
For a moment, he hesitated. Was this really right? There was nothing wrong with them, he had already been lying to them for so long, even doing various examinations for no reason. And now, what was he about to do? Inject them with a sedative, after misleading them into thinking it’s medicine. The sedative itself being a means to the goal of keeping them for himself, caging them by his side. Jakurai’s plan was well thought-out, but he couldn’t help but wonder. He kept telling himself he was in love, so even if his means were a little out there, wasn’t it alright if he was doing it for love? Besides, now he could finally use those abhorrent skills he had developed way back then, the wretched skills of deception, the knowledge of sedatives and the acts, charades, that came naturally to him, that would make sure nobody doubted him when he escorted the passed-out patient to their home under the pretence of worrying for them, he could use them for something good. He already considered it a sort of redemption to use those hands that once killed to heal, but what of those skills? He was only able to hide them, no way to make them seem peaceful, healing. No way to atone for even having them in his repertoire. Until now, that is. He could use them for love. It was the perfect conclusion, the perfect epilogue of that violent part of his life. He can start over, with his love forever by his side. And that thought process was all the push he needed.
“Roll up your sleeve, this should go directly into your vein.” There was no turning back now. He brought his chair over to the exam table, carefully watching the patient do as he instructed. So obedient. “It’s okay.” He smiled, offering comfort. “It’s just a tiny sting. You won’t notice it at all. And if you do,” he softly took hold of their hand, placing it on his own shoulder, “just squeeze.”
His smile was so kind, his eyes so full of ‘love’.
59 notes · View notes
Text
A Good Guy - A Solangelo One-Shot
Summary: Will might be a lot of things. And among those things, Will would dare to say that he’s a good guy. But when it came to Nico di Angelo, would he ever be good enough, though?
Word count: 3900 words || Rating: Teenage and Up Audiences || Read on AO3
Notes:
1. Based on the song "good guys" by LANY 2. My contribution for @after-everything-pjo-zine project. Check out other fics (each fic is accompanied by great fanart so you just HAVE to check it out) in the zine here.
***
Will might be a lot of things. And among those things, Will would dare to say that he’s a good guy. And he would proudly say that it’s because his family raised him to be one. His Mama made sure that he never forgot to say please, sorry and thank you, and his grandma taught him to respect people. Even though Apollo wasn’t around to be an ideal father as Will was growing up in Tennessee, his grandpa showed him how to be a Southern gentleman.
So yeah, he might come across as a young man who with a sassy attitude. But heck, Will knew that he was a good guy. And he’s proud of that.
But here’s the thing. Here’s a thing about being a good guy. Being a good guy might sound like it’s a good thing to do. But being a good guy also sometimes meant that you’re almost as invisible as a wallflower. Because even though you’re good, there were always be better guys. And one thing that Will learned about being a good guy? Good guys never win.
***
“It’s been almost two weeks, you know,” Will said as he kept his eyes at the monthly medical report that he (pretended) to be reading.
“Two weeks since what?” Kayla asked, but didn't bother to pretend that she's actually interested.
“Since Nico went for that quest, remember? Something about Persephone’s parrot or something?” Will said, still trying to keep his eyes at the notes. Because he knew that Kayla might still see the worry in Will’s eyes. (Sometimes it’s almost scary, how his siblings knew him too well).
“Oh? Really? Has it been two weeks yet?”
“Almost,” Will said, decided to leave the detail that it’s actually has been 11 days and since Nico had left the camp early in the morning and now it was almost dinner, it’s been almost twelve freaking days since Nico left the camp for that stupid quest.
“I mean, of course, it might be nothing but well, I thought it was supposed to be a short, simple quest?” Will continued. “Usually if it’s just this small quest, it never took him this long before. Usually it would just be like, three days, five, at the most, and like, a week if he took a detour to impulsively do something unnecessary, but never this long.”
Will lifted his head and turned to look at Kayla, who didn’t seem to share the same worry as Will. Her eyes were still fixed on the glossy pictures of the magazine that she was looking at. A non-committal hum coming from her was the only sign that she was (kind of) listening.
Will tried to focus on the lines of writing in front of him, but the letters were all jumbled and he couldn’t make himself try to read anything. His mind was too busy thinking about different reasons and scenarios of why Nico wasn’t back yet from the quest.
“Do you think I should ask Chiron about it? Probably he’s heard from Nico, y’know. Like, maybe something came up and I don’t know, maybe Chiron knew or maybe even Rachel got a vision or something, or-“
“Or you could have just contacted me, Solace. Pretty sure that it doesn't hurt to try IM me”
Will stood up and spun to face the direction where the voice was coming from. He did it so fast, he got dizzy because of it. It took him two seconds before his eyes could fully focus on Nico di Angelo, who was staring at him. His face looked nonchalant, but his eyes glinted with amusement.
“Uh, hey,” Will greeted, gripping the desk as he suddenly needed to get a hold of himself. “You’re back.”
Nico gave him a single nod, brushing away some strands of hair from covering his eyes. “Yep. I just got back.” He shrugged his shoulders before continuing. “Thought I’d drop by here before I report to Chiron.”
Will tightened his grip on the desk, trying his best to hold himself from closing the distance between him and Nico just to pull Nico into his arms.
“And uh… What brings you here?”
The emotional part of him wished that he was the reason why Nico came straight to the infirmary after the quest. But the rational part of him shushed him. That damned rational part of him told him that hey, it was him who wanted to see Nico, not the other way around.
Nico kept his eyes at Will and there was something in those dark eyes that Will couldn’t really put his fingers on.
“I thought you wanted me to have a check-up every time I got back from a quest?”
Of course.
Will tried to ease the dull pain in his heart by giving Nico a small smile. “Yeah. Of course. Need to make sure that you won’t fade into the shadows again, huh?” Will let out a nervous chuckle. “I mean, I am your doctor, and a doctor only wants the best for his patients.”
This time Nico stayed silent as he nodded. Will gestured to a nearby cot with his chin.
“Now, if you could just sit down over there, please?”
Still saying nothing, Nico strode to the cot and quickly sat there. Will took a deep breath, mentally telling himself to be professional, and let it out in a long exhale. He made his way to where Nico was waiting for him.
The check-up was a regular one. And there was nothing new about how touching Nico made stupid butterflies do some stupid dancing in his stomach. He ached to ask Nico questions about what happened in the quest and why it took so long. He wanted to know whether Nico ever thought of him while he was on the quest the way Will kept on thinking about him while he was away. He wanted to listen to Nico talk to him, with that slight accent that made his voice so melodious, almost like he was singing.
But it would only scare Nico away.
So he kept his eyes at the board where he jotted down the notes about Nico’s vitals.
“So, uhm… This quest was a bit longer than usual, huh?” Will asked, almost proud of himself that his voice sounded normal.
Nico hummed as he put his jacket back on. “Yeah, we had an unexpected encounter with some empousai. Luckily, David is unexpectedly good at fighting.”
At the mention of the name, Will lifted his head up. “David? You mean the new camper? That Athena kid?”
Nico nodded. “Yeah. For someone who never held a sword before, I have to say that I’m impressed.”
A strange, nauseating heat flared inside Will’s stomach. “Really?”
“Yup. In fact, I promised to give him an extra lesson in sword-fighting tomorrow.”
That strange heat swirled even more inside Will. He stretched his lips into a lame attempt to smile at Nico.
“Oh,” Will said. “Nice.”
“In one way, he strangely reminded me of Percy, you know? The way he held his sword.” And Nico continued talking for a while about that stupid new guy. Will listened, humming every now and then just to show Nico that he’s listening.
Half of his mind wished that the harpies would find that David kid to be a nice target for their dinner. The other half of his mind scowled at him for having that kind of evil wish.
“Okay. Everything looks good. Just make sure that you drink enough water,” Will said as he wrote the date and signed his name on the bottom part of the report.
“So I can go now?”
Will nodded. “Yeah, you’re free to go now,” he answered as he walked back to his desk to put the record in the folder.
“And you’re not even offering to walk me back to my Cabin like a good Southern gentleman?”
Will spun on his heel quickly. He stared at Nico with wide eyes, thinking that he might have been hallucinating.
“What?”
Nico snorted and slid down from the cot. “Never mind. I need to report to Chiron first anyway.”
Will blinked, and it took him a full two seconds before he had his voice again.
“Nico-“
But Nico was already one step away from the door. He stopped and looked at Will over his shoulder. The left tip of his lips curled up, just slightly, forming a ghost of a smile. He gave a two-finger salute to Will.
“I’ll see you around, Solace.”
Not waiting for Will to answer him, Nico stepped away. And just like that, he’s out of sight.
Will stared at the open door. There is this hollowness inside his heart that he couldn't explain. Like he just missed a chance.
He always thought that he’s a good guy. Or at least, he’s trying to.
But would he ever be good enough, though?
***
“What are you doing here?”
Lou Ellen’s voice startled Will.
“Me? Uh…” Will scrambled to pick up the book that he just dropped and showed it to Lou, like he was trying to prove something. “I was reading!”
Lou Ellen stared at him with a glint of amusement in her eyes as she gave Will the Look. The ‘don’t-give-me-bullshit’ Look.
“What, am I not allowed to read in peace?” Will said, a bit defensively.
“Hey, it’s cool dude,” Lou said. “In fact, it was nice to see you somewhere else aside from the infirmary,” she added.
Will relaxed a bit, going back to lean his back on the tree.
“I can see why you choose this spot. It’s much quieter than the infirmary on your busy days,” Lou said.
Will hummed.  His eyes flickered to the far left, to the clearing a few yards away, just for a split second before he opened his book.
“And the view from here is also… decent.”
Lou Ellen’s tone made Will quickly look up again at the daughter of Hecate. She’s now grinning at him, like she just figured something out.
“How long have you been spying on those two?” Lou asked, gesturing with her chin to two demigods in the clearing who seemed to just finished sparring.
Will gaped at her. He blinked and quickly shook his head. “What? No! I’ve told you, I was reading here!”
But Lou Ellen didn’t seem to care about Will’s reaction as she waved at the demigods in the clearing.
“Hey, Nico! David!”
Will’s eyes widened in horror this time as he turned his head around, only to see that Nico and the new Athena kid walked towards them.
“Lou!” he hissed in annoyance.
Lou Ellen just gave him a teasing smirk. “What?”
Will groaned and quickly stood up, his book abandoned on the grass as he unconsciously ran a hand over his wild locks.
“Hey,” Nico greeted. “What’s up?”
Nothing’s up aside from his heartbeat, Will would like to answer. But of course, he kept it to himself as he tried his best to school his face into a relaxed, nonchalant, I’m-just-chilling-here expression.
“Nothing much,” Lou Ellen shrugged her shoulders. “You two are sparring together here? Why? Is the arena too mainstream for you?”
The new Athena kid gave a half-smile as he brushed off some hair from covering his eyes. “It was my request, actually,” he said. “I just want to have a...” he waved his right in a vague circular motion, like trying to find the exact word to say. “A more… realistic view when fighting a monster?”
That didn’t really make sense to Will. But it seemed to be an acceptable reason for Lou Ellen as she nodded at him.
“And has Nico been a good teacher for you?” Lou Ellen asked.
Will didn’t miss the way Lou gave him a quick glance.
David’s half-smile turned into a full one. “He is!” He turned his head to Nico and smiled at him, like he was pleased at Nico. “Thanks for teaching me, Nico. You are very good at sword-fighting.”
Nico returned David’s smile with one of his small smiles. A smile that could have filled Will’s chest with warm air. But since he’s not at the receiving end of that smile, it turned Will’s chest into lead instead.
“Anytime. It was a pleasure.”
“You will teach me more, yes? And ah… We also need to talk more. About football.”
This was the first time for Will to really listen to David talking, and he couldn’t help but notice how David’s voice had quite an accent. Especially when he pronounced football, the way he stretched some syllables.
Nico’s face lit up. “Yeah! We should! I know that Cecil played football! Right?” His eyes darted from Will to Lou Ellen, like asking for confirmation.
“Cecil? He does. I can take you to talk to him. Come on,” Lou Ellen quickly pulled the sleeve of David’s shirt and led him away from the other two demigods.
Will watched the backs of Lou Ellen and David who were walking away from them. He could feel nervousness starting to creep in on him as their voices slowly faded away, as he realized that he’s now alone with Nico.
Not that he hated to be with Nico. It’s just… this wasn’t his plan. He wasn’t prepared. And Will hated it when things didn’t go as he planned. He hated it when he was unprepared.
“David played football,” Nico said just when David and Lou Ellen disappeared from their sight.
Will angled his neck to look at Nico. “And when you said football, did you mean soccer?”
“I mean football,” Nico answered, turning on his heels a little so now he was facing Will. “The real football.”
Will snorted and slid down to sit on the grass. “They’re the same,” he said, leaning his back on the tree.
Nico followed Will, sitting on the grass. “It will always be football for me,” he said. There was a melancholic tone lacing his voice. And it made Will wonder, maybe it’s something that Nico used to play. In the streets in Venice, when he was just a kid who had no idea that Greek gods and goddesses were real.
“We, David and I, we were talking about playing here. I mean, it would be great, you know? David said he played midfield. I’m usually,” Nico paused, but quickly continued. “I mean, I used to play as a striker. If we can connect well, that would be really cool.”
Will closed his eyes while his stomach churned with a strange, unpleasant feeling. So, not only was this David kid good in sword-fighting, he’s good in soccer too?
“Do you play too? I mean, you can be the goal keeper. I guess you would be great. I mean, you’re tall and it would be a great asset for a goalkeeper.”
Will huffed. Stuck between the goalposts while watching Nico and David scoring goals? Yeah. No, thank you.
“We’ll see about that,” Will said, still with his eyes closed.
For a while, none of them said anything. Will opened his eyes when he heard Nico sighed. He turned his head, watching Nico stand up. Nico brushed his pants, and gave Will a small smile.
“I’ll see you around, Solace.”
Will wondered why that smile looked a bit strained, but returned it anyway. “Yeah. I’ll see you around.”
He watched as Nico walked away.
Someone would be a good guy for Nico, he thought. And even though Will was a good guy, maybe he just wasn’t good enough. So of course, someone would be a good guy for Nico. Someone else. Not Will.
***
Will didn’t even know why he was here, standing awkwardly near the table where the food and drinks were.
Oh, yes. Because Cecil and Lou Ellen practically dragged him here, to this stupid Halloween party organized by the Aphrodite Cabin.
It’s not that Will disliked Halloween. And it wasn’t like he hated Halloween parties either. What he didn’t like, was seeing Nico talking with David at the other corner of the room. Just looking at the sight made a strange, nauseating fire flame inside of him.
“Pining over di Angelo again?” Lou Ellen nudged him on his shoulder.
“Yeah. How long are you going to act like this Will? Playing it cool while we all know how you wish you’re the one talking to di Angelo instead of David?” Cecil joined Lou Ellen in interrogating Will.
Will only rolled his eyes. “I don’t know what you guys are talking about,” he mumbled, and took another sip of Coke from his cup. He tried to watch the campers who were dancing in the middle of the floor. Some kids from the Hermes cabin somehow got a hold of speakers. And of course, with a little help from the Hephaestus kids, the party had a cool sound system that was now playing pop music.
Lou Ellen sighed. Will stole another glance at where Nico was standing. David was leaning a little to whisper something at Nico. The proximity between those two made it a little bit harder for Will to breathe. He wondered what it was that David was telling Nico. But then Nico turned his head to Will. And no matter how cliché it might sound, Will’s heart skipped a beat when their eyes met. Will quickly looked down to the floor.
Next to him, Lou Ellen clicked her tongue.
“You know what? I can’t take this anymore. It’s been MONTHS. This has got to end tonight,” she said. Ignoring Will’s protest, she grabbed Will’s wrist and pulled him along with her, walking towards Nico and David.
A few seconds later, Will was standing with a flustered face in front of Nico and David.
“Hey, Nico, David! You guys enjoying the party?”
David gave that half-smile again. “Ah, yes. The party is nice.” He angled his neck just a bit so now he was looking right at Will. The half-smile subtly transformed into a knowing smirk. “And you? You… You are the healer, yes? Will?”
Will forced himself to smile politely at David. “Yeah. That’s me.”
David gave a single nod. “Nico talked a lot about you. A lot of good things.”
Will blinked. His eyes darted to Nico, but the raven-haired boy looked away from him. Still, his cheeks were a dark shade of red.
“Is that Cecil over there? I think I want to talk to him,” David suddenly said as he pointed at Cecil with his chin. “Lou Ellen? Come with me?”
Lou Ellen grinned as she nodded and made a 90-degree turn on her heels. “Yeah, come on, David. Let's leave these two idiots.”
And just like that, they left Will again, standing awkwardly less than two feet away from Nico.
“Uh… I didn’t expect to see you here,” Will said.
Nico turned his head at Will, an eyebrow slightly raised up. “Oh? I thought you were the one saying that I need to work on my social skill.”
Will gave Nico a small smile. “Yeah. So. Good to see you here, then. I mean, for your social skills and all.”
Nico stared at Will. And there was just something behind those dark eyes. Something that Will couldn’t put into words. Something that made him unable to look away.
“Aren’t you going to ask me to dance, Solace?”
The question got Will off-guard. Of all the questions in the world, it’s probably the most unexpected one.
“Huh?”
Nico held his eyes at Will’s for another second, but then he looked away. “Never mind,” he said, half-mumbling. His cheeks blushed again into dark cherry color.
“But… do you want to, though?”
Nico’s head turned back to Will. “Want to do what?”
“Dance? Do you…want to?”
Nico bit his lower lip and he looked down for a second. When he looked up back at Will, his charcoal eyes were soft.
“Depends.”
“On what?”
“On who’s asking me to.”
Will’s heart started to jump around in his chest.
“What if it’s me asking you?”
The eyes that were staring back at him were now smiling.
“Then I guess, it depends on the song, then.”
Will’s heart was probably doing some crazy somersaults right now, but his lips curled up without him even thinking about it.
“Well, it’s my favorite song that they’re playing right now. I hope it suits you?” he asked, carefully offering his hand.
Nico’s smile was as soft as the look in his eyes. And the moment their fingertips touched, Will’s heart soared high and suddenly his chest was filled with warm, light air.
As Will led Nico to the floor, he thought about how long he has been wanting to do this, to hold Nico’s hand in his.
They swayed along with the music. Nico’s left hand felt perfect in his right hand. Will’s left hand rested on Nico’s hip and Will couldn’t care less about the other people dancing around them.
“Your dancing is better than your singing,” Nico said, a playful smile on his lips.
Will chuckled. “My grandma said a real Southern gentleman must know how to dance. And I remember my Mama dancing with me when I was a kid.”
“Your Mam raised you well, I have to say.”
Will hummed. “I’m a good mama’s boy, I can promise you that.”
“I can see that, Will. Everyone can see that.”
“See what?”
“That you’re a good guy.”
This time Will held his eyes at Nico. “I try to be,” he said. “But… Would I ever be good enough for you?”
Nico huffed. “And you said I was the dense one.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean…” Nico stopped, but his feet kept on moving. He sighed. “Gods, do I really have to spell it out to you?” He asked, sounding exasperated as he looked away from Will.
Hope bloomed inside of Will and he grinned and oh, how he wanted to shout and laugh. He took his hand off Nico’s hip so he could gently cup Nico’s cheek, guiding him to face him back.
“Do you mean you like me?” Will asked.
“Well, do you like me?”
Will chuckled and he could feel a stupid smile creeping in. “Why do you even have to ask?”
Nico shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know. Because you’re nice to me but you’re also nice to everyone? Because you don’t seem to care even if I talk about someone else? Because you…” Nico stopped again and shook his head. “I don’t know. Maybe because I just…don’t know?”
Will squeezed Nico’s hand just a bit tighter. “I was just… I was just afraid that I’m not good enough for you.”
Nico rolled his eyes. But his lips twitched, like he tried to hold back a smile.
“You’re a good guy, Will. You’re a good guy to everyone. But sometimes I hope that you can be my good guy.”
It’s like a thousand birds were singing inside of Will now as he felt like he was floating in this bubble of happiness.
“Then I’ll be yours, Death Boy.”
Will wrapped his arms around Nico, and pulled him into his embrace.
“I’ll be your good guy, then. I’ll be your everything.”
Nico pulled himself a little away from Will. He looked up at Will and the light in his eyes was like the most beautiful star in a dark night.
“Everything?”
“Everything. Anything you need.”
***
Additional Author's Notes: Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed it :). Reblogs, replies or any other feedbacks are much appreciated. Also please don't forget to check out the zine!!!
128 notes · View notes
burnedbyshoto · 3 years
Text
a nurses job
Tumblr media
— Bakugou breaks his arms and as a nurse, you have the responsibility to make sure that he is comfortable, even when he needs to use the bathroom.
⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆
pairing: pro hero!bakugou katsuki x nurse fem!reader
warnings: smut, 18+, prohero!bakugou, golden showers/water sports/piss kink, degradation (giving), dirty talk, lusting/pining, handjobs
word count: 5,050
a/n: so, I was going to make this a piss in ur mouth and pussy type of fic, but I kept seeing all those beautiful bakugou piss arts where he’s with a nurse.... so this is inspired and brought upon by all the water sports bakugou x nurse art ive seen for three months.
kinktober day 21 main kink: piss | kinktober masterlist
⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆
You’re not quite sure what persuaded you into wanting to become a nurse as a child.
Maybe it was because your quirk (when you hum at an A flat, everyone within 5 meters experiences accelerated healing properties) was useless for Pro Hero work, so you realized early on that being a Pro Hero was a distant dream. Maybe it was because medical staff were still hailed as everyday heroes despite being in a world with people who could perform extraordinary achievements. It started as a small obsession to prove to the soon to be jobless, dream broken, and graduated failures of the hero course high schools that you had done more than them. That you, unlike them, were recognized as a hero. 
You were decent with math and science, so you strove for medical school. But with the horrendous costs of schooling, your then living situation, and your dislike of unneeded and unwanted competitive stress, you deterred toward the nursing pathway. It was a pathway where you really found yourself, or at least, you thought so.
Empathy, emotion, and the need to see people come out of a hospital better than when they entered was something that grew on you quickly and obviously. Your earliest clinical rounds often left you with swollen, tired feet from walking around for restless hours, but with a smile on your face that was irreplicable. With every semester in school, you got better, connected better with your patients. Your feet still ache after long shifts, and sometimes your smile is hollow and broken, and if you look closely, you could see dried tears and puffy eyelids, but you wouldn’t ever regret this decision to become a nurse.
At twenty-five, newly graduated from nursing school, already working full time at the best hospital in Japan, while studying for your degree to eventually become a nurse practitioner. You loved your job quite a lot. They had placed you immediately within their Post-OP, ICU, and recovery wings, and even though you were somewhat new, you were celebrating a year of working in a few weeks, you already had some… more than familiar faces.
“Well, Ground Zero-san, I guess you owe me a drink because unless my eyes are deceiving me, it looks like both your arms are broken, no?” you hum, your grin bright and wide, not even attempting to hide it’s glee as your high profile patient sat seething on the hospital bed. “It’s been, what? Two weeks since you last showed up here? You getting old?”
“Oh, would you shut the fuck up, you shitty ass nurse?!” Bakugou snarled, his arms obviously trying to tense and move against the large casts that envelope him. “The fuck would you expect to happen when facing off with a quirk that’s specifically meant to break people’s arms?!”
“Deku didn’t break any arms,” you point out with a soft laugh, eyes still scanning and reading through his charts to check his medical needs and medicine prescribed by the attending and when he should be taking them. “A bit weird that only half of the Wonder Duo was indescribably injured, no?”
A loud snarl ripped from Bakugou’s throat, and you stifled your own laughter as you raised your eyesight to look him straight in his raging eyes.
“I took that damn nerds hits because he’s broken his arms so many fucking times he’ll be forced to amputate them if he breaks them again!” Bakugou’s eyes were near white in his anger, but the intensity of his emotions was heavily diminished by the fact that his arms were strapped to his chest in thick, round bandages.
“You can admit you care for him,” you chide, ignoring his ‘like hell I do!’ Placing the chart down and walking to his IV drip, you checked to see if anything he was hooked to required any changes or whatnot. “Besides, this is not the first time I’ve seen you in here! It was quite surprising to see Ground Zero on bedrest on my first ever shift here.”
That much was true.
You had been working at Tokyo Hospital for nearly nine months now. Within the nine months, you saw a lot of heroes; that much was true. Your quirk was versatile as a nurse, and you were bright, young, very good at your job, and definitely a beautiful individual. So, when you were assigned to be working most of your days healing heroes because they were the backbone of the country, it didn’t quite catch you by surprise. It was a common assignment you had as a nursing student too.
You just didn’t expect the head nurse of the floor to assign one of your five rooms to be holding none other than Ground Zero, a.k.a Bakugou Katsuki.
Of course, you weren’t an idiot. You had known about the explosion hero since high school! You had sat in front of your TV in high school, attempting to do your homework while watching the rather intensive first-year battles. He had done well in every stage, placing within the top three each time and even winning the game! You had cringed at the awards ceremony but had been horrified at the news of his kidnapping. 
But after that, with the rising tensions of the villain world upon the dying world left behind by All Might, you had forgotten him for a moment. As time went on, and finally, a new support system was brought forth, Ground Zero, much like his quirk entailed, exploded onto the scene alongside Deku and a few other young heroes.
So, sure, you expected to maybe one day run into the ash-blond hero, but you didn’t expect it to happen on day one.
All things considered, the two of you got along rather well.
His... strong personality did make you wary of him at first, taking his near verbal barrage until you, very flusteredly he will argue, told him to ‘shut up, you butthole!’
You were horrified at your lack of professionalism, and Bakugou had gone silent as he stared at you in silence.
“Did you just call me a butthole?” he echoed, his face full of emotions you could not read. You felt on the verge of panicking, unsure if he was going to potentially tell on you! The sounds of a barking laughter rang in your ear, and you looked up to see his grinning, much more relaxed form. “Are you some shitty preschooler?!”
Thus began a working relationship of sorts between you and Bakugou.
He was an asshole, and you tried your best to not let him talk you off a cliff. It didn’t take very long for you to find out what made him tick surprisingly enough, and you used that to your advantage. The best way to tease him right now was by reminding him that he had been hospitalized more times than Deku, who apparently had held the record for the number of hospitalizations between him and his friends.
“Are you going to mention that shit first meeting every time we talk?!” Bakugou barked, his eyes narrowed as he turned his head away from you.
“After you admit you care deeply for all your friends!” you chirp back, stepping away from his IV drip, satisfied by what you saw. “Well, you look good for now. I’ll be checking up on you every ten to fifteen minutes since you can’t press the button until we can get those casts off! Did ya need anything before I go check on my other patients?”
“Open the damn window; it’s stuffy in here,” Bakugou grumbled, his face finally facing you again. 
“Of course,” you smile cheekily, your eyes squinting with your broad grin. “It’s a nurse's job to make their patients comfortable and happy!”
Standing at the side of the bed, you stretched over Bakugou to grab the edge of the window and slide it open. Through your stance, you were entirely aware of how this looked, how this felt. Your breasts centimeters from Bakugou’s face, your eyes never once breaking from the window to feign your innocence as you finally pull away. Even with scrubs on, you could feel his hot, sharp breathes expelling through your clothes, his ears tinging just the smallest bit red as you smile.
“Anything else?” you asked sweetly, failing to hide your impish grin.
“Put the water cup close by,” he grunted, eyes staring at the liter of water at his side table. Well, he wouldn’t be able to use his arms until just before he was set to be discharged, so moving the water closer was a good idea.
Nodding, you grabbed a nearby cup, filling it three-quarters of a way full before placing it onto the feeding table and dragging it near his mouth, a bendy straw already secured into the cup. You watched as he shot forward, putting the plastic straw into his mouth and beginning to drink the cold water. His eyes were back on yours, deceivingly cold had you already not been an expert on his personality.
With one final soft chuckle, you waved at Bakugou as you headed out, a cheerful smile on your face as he continued to drink his water.
“See ya in a few!”
Well, you guess there was one more important detail about your relationship with Bakugou Katsuki. For the past five months, you have been doing everything in your power to seduce him — to get him to admit that he wanted you too.
You knew the ethics and the morals behind falling for a patient of yours, much less a high profile patient at that. You knew that if your little crush was ever found out, you would most definitely be moved from his room. You were also damningly aware that you should have brought up your initial feelings for the explosion hero to your admin the moment it arose. But the thought and the way you were always so happy to be around him eventually overruled your logic. Five months ago, you had stayed at the hospital until nearly three am, talking with a severely concussed Bakugou. You were stationed for an overnight round with the task of making sure that he didn’t fall asleep. And for the first time in your time knowing Bakugou, the two of you somehow clicked into place, and when he was discharged the next morning — the nurse who had a quirk to rid of concussions finally arriving — he had thanked you.
It was so benign, so incredibly simple, yet the way the golden sunshine illuminated his blond hair and made his red eyes shine like a ruby, you found your own tired body feeling heated and warm. He wasn’t such a lousy conversationalist, and you had already enjoyed all your interactions together, yet it still caught you off guard to feel your heart pounding in your throat as he pulled on his jacket and left.
So after coming to terms with your sudden infatuation for the stubborn hero, you began to express your desires and feelings for him without having to say it. For all that he was worth and all that he expressed himself to be extremely observant, Bakugou Katsuki still had no idea that you liked him.
Unfortunately, your scrub nurse uniform wasn’t precisely seductive. The light blue of the breathable, sterile uniform was about as unsexy as uniforms got. But that never stopped you from leaning in too close when doing what Bakugou demanded of you. It didn’t prevent you from accidentally dropping papers in front of him and bending over to show off the curves of your ass.
There had never been a time such as this one where you hated that the old, ‘sexy’ nurse outfits were no longer up to standard and banned from use. How you would have loved to be wearing gartered held stockings just to accidentally flash to Bakugou. But, you suppose that it’s alright. Even though your feelings and ambitions to get the Pro Hero to like you as much as you did him, you never tried to push it.
For now, you were just an asshole tease.
You carried out the rest of your rounds in peace, your pager sitting comfortably in your pocket, unused, unneeded for now. The rest of your four patients were doing well for now.
One was asleep, most likely due to the medicine coursing through his veins, but his vitals remained unchanged.
Another was in the process of getting ready to be discharged, her family there to help her in leaving.
The third was eating his dinner, eyes concentrated on a poker game on the TV as he asked you to help fluff his pillow.
The last was busy with a physical therapist, her forehead slick with sweat as she attempted to sit up from her chair.
All in all, they were all doing fine, and you were back to the beginning, back to Bakugou’s room.
You entered his closed room door to be greeted by an empty bed. Your eyes widened immediately, the initial wave of pure horror flashing through you that by some freak accident, some murderous villain had kidnapped the injured hero straight from the hospital bed. 
“Ground Zero-san?!” you called out, a pitched voice of concern frilling your voice as you stumbled through the room. Your eyes were frantically searching the room, fingers feeling the lingering warmth of his body on the bed and your eyes noticing the empty water cup on his table still. The sheets of his bed haphazardly thrown off as if in a struggle.
Your fingers wound around the panic button, your ears straining to hear any sort of sign of Bakugou still being here.
A gritted teeth snarl was muffled from the attached bathroom, and you froze, unable to move as you felt the untouched button in your hands turn as light as a feather. You approached the bathroom door with soft footsteps, the smile on your face, unable to be stopped as you pulled the door open.
The sight you happened upon was something that made your lips curl into a wider smirk as the hospital clothed-clad hero absolutely struggled with his lack of functioning hands and arms to pull down his pants. Something he couldn’t do himself because the socks and slippers on his feet kept him from even attempting to tug his pants off with his toes.
In his struggle, undoubtedly miserable attempt to get his pants and underwear off his waist, Bakugou seemed ignorant to your arrival. His back still towards you, his head tilted down in his struggle as he twisted and pulled at practically nothing.
And as you watched him struggle, you couldn’t help but let your eyes drink in his form that stood tall before you. Most occurrences where you found yourself face to face with Bakugou, he was always tucked in a bed (except that time you realized your feeling for him), whether it was because he needed to be or because he was forced to be. So seeing him in his full height, seeing how despite your size, you were still only at his shoulder, made your eyelashes flutter.
He was tall, so deliciously tall, you wanted to climb onto a chair to see if he would be taller even with that added height. And oh how the flimsy material of his hospital outfit was stretched then against the taut muscles of his back. They flexed and shifted with his aggravation, and the only thought on your mind was to rake your fingers against the tempting muscle and skin.
“Shitty. fucking. villain!” he hissed angrily, sweat trickling down the back of his neck as he still struggled to do what nature called him for. 
But you couldn’t help it; the flexing muscles of his back, the lower tenor of his voice, and the way he seemed ridiculously larger than life at the moment tipped your restraint over. Your ability to hold back crashing through you like a tsunami wave, drowning you until you found your hand tethered to the tight spot at the center of his spine, your hushed words drifting to his ear like sweet, warm honey.
“You need any help here, Ground Zero-san?” you asked, your voice just loud enough to have your hot breath fanning against his sweaty exposed neck. You could feel him twitch in your hold, his body stiffening as he whipped his head around to look at you, red eyes wild, wide, and dark.
“Don’t ya know how to fucking knock?!” he snapped, his body flushed at being caught in the bathroom, unable to shed his clothes. He doesn’t move from your touch, and that small detail makes you warm, knowing that he wasn’t entirely repulsed by your touch. 
“You were missing from your bed, and I called your name,” you smile despite his angry glare. “I know you are susceptible to hear loss, but I thought you were still in the clear.”
“I ain’t fucking deaf,” Bakugou growled, his face twisted with a frown. “And that still doesn’t explain why the hell you’re here!”
“Oh, were you not just completely struggling earlier?” you feign shock, the grin on your face unstoppable at the embarrassed scowl that sets on his face. You step even closer to him so that your torso is perpendicular to his side. Your hand still gently touching his muscled back, and your free hand gently pressing to his own abdomen, the feeling of his flexed muscles, making you dizzy as you peer down at the white toilet. “Is there a villain in the toilet? I didn’t think that was possible!”
“Of fucking course not, there’s not a shitty villain in the toilet.” Bakugou flushed, his body entirely trapped by you, but he made no play to escape.
“Oh, so did you need help?”
Bakugou stares at you, his mind whirling a kilometer a second as he contemplates his next course of action. The both of you know he needs help, and still, the both of you are aware that his ability to ask of that from you is slim to none given he couldn’t even wait for you to return to his room.
“Tch,” he clicks his tongue angrily, annoyed, completely fed up. His eyes rolling to the ceiling, refusing to acknowledge you as his head nods once. “Help me, shitass nurse.”
“Of course!” you chirp, your eyes finding his hooded ones.
You give him one last warm, sweet smile before the hand on his torso lightly drags down his stomach, soft in its unashamed way of feeling him up. Your head tilted as your fingers hooked into the tight waistband of his pants and pulled it down, the heat of your palm accidentally dragging itself over the imprint of his cock behind his boxers.
The slight, flustered choking noise at the back of his throat didn’t go ignored by you, but rather but aside for later. Your eyes flashing up to see his red eyes wide, his cheeks so lightly dusted with pink as you managed to pull down his boxers too. 
“There!” you exclaim, your eyes closing in your grin before you turn your attention back down to his exposed dick. 
Immediately, you had to hold back a noise of pure want and lust at the sight of him. He was long, undoubtedly eight inches, definitely more. Although you couldn’t tell how thick, you knew his dick would fill your palm without a struggle. The trimmed, dark blond pubes and the protruding veins are what did it for you, your tongue poking out for a millisecond to wet your lips as you stared at his dark pink head.
“Stop staring at it!” Bakugou hissed, clearly embarrassed if the slight voice crack said anything about it. 
You looked back up at him, fake confusion swimming in your eyes as you tilted your head. “It’s only a penis. I see millions of these all the time.”
“Yeah, but it’s fucking weird!”
A soft laugh escaped your lips, your eyes rolling softly as you sighed in retreat, “Fine, fine, let's pee big boy and get you in bed.”
With your dominant hand, you grabbed his dick with a soft grip, pleasure simmering through you at the confirmation of the thick dick in your palm. But it seemed you weren’t the only one who thought that for the moment you tried to steer his dick toward the toilet to assist in aim, Bakugou hissed loudly. His flesh twitching to life in your warm, soft hand as it began to grow upward.
You didn’t say anything; your jaw remained as tight and closed as your vocal box despite the egging need to tease him and celebrate his apparent approval of your touch. So, eventually, in a voice that defied the nervous energy coursing through your veins, you asked: “Didn’t you need to pee?”
Bakugou let out a throaty, guttural groan, his anger hissing between his teeth as his dick twitched again in your hold, growing longer and harder still.
“I can’t take a damn piss with a hard-on, you idiot!” he roared despite the strawberry red blush on his cheeks. You admired the way he was still fighting for control of an upper hand here despite — clearly — not having any.
“Oh, haha! Silly me!” you laugh, your hand shifting against his length, your warm palm getting closer to the base of his cock.
“W-What are you doing?!” Bakugou spluttered, your soft butterfly touches sending him through a loop he clearly wasn’t expecting. “You could just wait for it to die!” 
“It’s a nurse's job to make their patients comfortable and happy,” you repeat your words, your hold on his dick growing firmer and harder just as his cock continued to do. “You clearly need to pee, and there’s no telling when your cock will go down.”
“I’LL MAKE IT GO DOWN!” Bakugou yells, but the usual sharpness to his tone has deflated, diminished to nothing but whining embarrassed yell. You look up at his clenched jaw and how a pretty pink glows on his cheeks, and you’re mesmerized.
Looking back down at his growing cock that warms your hand immensely, you hum, slightly twisting your hand around his length. Bakugou shudders, a whine hidden in his throat as you open your own mouth.
“Do you want me to stop?” you question, your eyes fluttering up to look at his clouded red ones. “Do you not need or want me?”
That was a double-headed question if Bakugou ever heard one. He looked at your glossy lips, the way they were pouted, so ready to be kissed, to be claimed, and that delirious look of want and need in your eyes. And he knows better; he knows that this is not the place, not the time to act on emotions like this. The need to pee sits heavily on his lower belly, just like the need to cum makes him twitch and pace uncomfortably. God fucking damn his broken to smithereens arms.
But you already know this, of course, you do. But you also know how stubborn he can be, how anal he can be about the littlest thing. So with no answer, you weaken your grip, making him think that you’re ready to leave, and he falls right into the trap.
“Make it fucking q-quick,” his voice cracks, the embarrassment nearly tangible as you nod your head firmly, your fist tightening around his cock.
Your warm fingers pressed onto his length, beginning at a slow leisurely pace, your eyes glued onto his face, detailing how he reacts to every small flick of your wrist, every little difference of grip in his hands. Your strokes began to grow larger, your fingertips tracing the bulging veins on his cock, your eyes hypnotized by the way his face pinches in his pleasure, the blush on his cheeks, the way the hot pants expelling from his mouth curl warmly in your lower belly.
“Y-You do this with all your shitty patients?” Bakugou growls, but it sounds weak, too blurred and slurred with his increasing pleasure.
Your fingernails drag against the underneath of his cock, tracing the incredibly sensitive skin until he’s slowly thrusting his hips into your fist. “Only the hot ones,” you tease, your thumb pressing against the tip of his beading tip, the warm pre-cum slick and spreading quickly against his flushed tip.
“You’re fucking disgusting,” Bakugou continues, his head tipping backward, exposing the slenderness of his neck that begs for your teeth to sink into. “Just needed to take a fucking piss.”
“Nervous, you’ll pee all over me, and I won’t want to suck your dick?” you ask, your fingers brushing near his scrotum, eyes blazing dangerously at the sight of his gasping, jaw-dropping face. His hips rut forward, leaking cock dripping with his pre-cum, and you giggle softly, fisting him faster, spreading the pre-cum against his heated sex.
Your fingers run against his throbbing length, your palm tight and hot against his cock, the veins you drag across searing against your flesh, ingraining itself onto your skin and memory forever. Despite it all, the obvious near tangible horror Bakugou has on the thought of pissing on you, he continues to fuck into your fist. 
“Damn bitch like you would probably l-like it if I pissed on you,” Bakugou pants, his casted arms twitching at his chest. His head tilted away from you, but his eyes burning into you, the red eyes hot as fire against your skin. “You want me to piss on you? Make you my bitch.”
The words burn against your skin, your teeth biting onto your lower lip as you meet his gaze. You’ve never considered it before, never thought you’d be into it. As a nurse, you’ve been around piss, shit, and vomit, and while you had grown unfazed by it, you never considered the prospect of a man pissing on you. But you thought of it, of Bakugou standing above you, free from his casts, hands on his cock as he smirks down at you with golden liquid spraying from his cock, soaking you where you lay. 
You shudder, pleasant chills running down your spine as you stare into his eyes yet again. 
“And if I do?” you ask, fingers rolling the head of his cock between your forefinger and thumb, relishing in the way that he snarls low in his throat. “What’re you gonna do about that, Ground Zero-san? You gonna piss all over your bitch after you get out of here.”
“You want me to piss on you here?” he asks, his voice snappish, strained, his hips drilling harder into your hand that was quickly speeding up. A battle of power and speed between the both of you as he looms over you, face flushed, pink, and lips demanding to be kissed. “Wouldn’t be surprised if you do.”
“Why’s that?” you breathe, his lips tantalizingly close to yours, a breath away as your hand grips and tightens even more around the base of his cock, causing a pained-pleasured hiss to rip from behind his teeth as he looks at you.
“Don’t act like your shitty ass hasn’t been trying to seduce me every time I show up,” Bakugou gruffs, his hips continuing a drilling rhythm into your fist, his body no longer shy or embarrassed.
“So you noticed but never said anything?” you counter, your fingers shifting over to his swollen, hot balls. You fondle them, tugging at their weight gently, taking in the way his eyes roll to the back of his head and the way his teeth tear into his lip. “Coward.”
“Hah?! Who the fuck—”
You can’t help yourself anymore, your mouth coming to slam against his in a piercing, searing kiss. He moans into the kiss, and you gasp back, tongues clashing together, teeth knocking into each other as awkward, nearing uncomfortable kisses are exchanged. His sweet scent of caramel wafts into your nose, and his grunts and groans are addicting, entirely enthusiastic noises that send your own thighs clenching shut to quiet the heated need in between your thighs.
Your hand increases in its speed, his whines and groans so pretty and piercing into you. 
“How fucking gross,” you laugh into his mouth, the slicked heat of his precum lathering your palm until soft noises of your fisting hand begin to fill the sterile bathroom. “You’re a child, wanting to piss on things that you shouldn’t. You came to the bathroom and got a hard-on instead of pissing, Bakugou, aren’t you embarrassed.”
“Y-Y/l/n,” he hissed, his jaw falling slack against your mouth. His hips are drilling into you faster and faster, the throbbing of his cock, the growing, thick scent of his caramel sweat filling the room and your senses. “F-Fuck!”
“Such a dirty, childish pro hero,” you smile your tongue curling into his mouth and dragging against the roof of his mouth as he shudders helplessly against you. “Cum already, Bakugou, cum and piss over yourself like some small brat.”
He shudders, and you find your mouth leaving his own as you stare down, spurting white ropes of cum pour from his tip, completely covering the toilet seat with his sticky white cum. And you watch as soon as his body collapses onto you, entirely spent from the orgasm, yellow piss streaming from his tip.
The toilet fills with his cum and piss, and you grin once his balls and bladder are completely drained. His cock limp and weak in your hand as you hum, your quirk activating and causing the exhausted Pro Hero to recompose himself so that he wasn’t entirely weak against you. 
“Such a good patient,” you coo, pulling up Bakugou’s boxers and hospital pants without a second's thought. Patting his butt gently, you watched as his still exhausted red eyes stared at you. You walked over to the sink, washing your hands so that you could continue to finish the rest of your shift.
“Don’t think this is over, shitty nurse.”
You look at him over your shoulder, your fingers curling under the warm water as you grin.
“I expect to be fucked and pissed on next time,” you counter, your smirk devastating and sending a fire right back to Bakugou’s groin. “No freebies anymore.”
2K notes · View notes
levi-my-beloved · 3 years
Text
Birds of a Feather
Chapter 5
Pairings: Canon!Levi x F!Reader
Content Warnings: Violence, open wound (minor), smut, oral (m and f receiving), thigh riding, fingering, unprotected sex, masturbation (m), virgin!Levi, virgin!reader, mutual virginity loss, tooth rotting fluff, gets a little angtsy towards the end.
Word Count: 13.2K
Summary: You were the most notorious criminal in The Underground City. With your organisation of highly skilled professionals, only one man could take you down. He also happened to be Humanity’s Strongest... and your ex.
Previous Chapter
First Chapter
Series Masterlist
A/N: oh my god picking out those words and selecting them individually to bolden them cuz tumblr doesn’t know how to copy and paste correctly was TEDIOUS. it gives the effect i wanted but jfc tumblr learn how to copy and paste bold and italics jeez. this was definitely the most fun chapter, as you shall see. this was supposed to contain more than just smut but i got super carried away and it would have been like, 22K if i paired it with the next one, so the next chapter will take a little longer, but i’ll make a post about that separately after this one. hope you all enjoy!
18+ MINORS DNI
𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔
“Levi?! You fucking idiot, you could have died!” it was the last thing you’d expected to come back to after a few days away. After spending some time with the strange man who took you in three years ago, Viper, he called himself, you were excited to come back to the small house you had with your best, and possibly only, friend outside The Nest.
What you weren’t expecting was to find him, propped up against the small wooden table in the centre of the room, shirtless, slowly bleeding out through his shoulder. You didn’t know where the other two were, and in fact, that was your first question.
“Where the hell are Isobel and Farlan, and why the fuck haven’t they sorted you out?” you stormed across the room, setting your bag down on one of the kitchen chairs before assessing his injury.
“First of all… I didn’t die. Second of all… shit… they’re out buying ODM parts after Isa’s shitty landing the other day, and th-fuck-thirdly, this only happened today. They’d just left when I got back,” Levi grit his teeth as you gently prodded the wound. Shit this fucking hurt. It was a stab wound from a shitty bartender in a shitty part of town who decided he didn’t like Levi’s shitty attitude. Honestly, looking back…
He couldn’t blame him.
You sighed, running a hand through your hair.
“You’re a fucking idiot,”
“You’ve said that already,”
“This isn’t funny, Levi,” you huffed, turning to rifle through the bag you’d haphazardly dumped on the chair. You’d never been so thankful for Viper’s weird yet wonderful survival lessons. Over the last three days, he’d taught you basic medical training. You had no idea how the fuck he knew how to apply a tourniquet or sew wounds, but you never questioned the man. He reminded you of your father in some ways.
Just a little more violent.
“Stay still, it needs to be cleaned,” you brought out a small bottle of whiskey, a gift from one of Viper’s associates. His “Shadows”, or something.
Levi narrowed his eyes as you began taking out various pieces of equipment, and couldn’t help but raise his eyebrows at the expensive looking bottle.
“Where the fuck did you get these things, (Y/N)?” he breathed, glancing between the medical supplies and your face. Levi hated how he didn’t know what you did. He didn’t know where you went for days, and it worried him when you didn’t return when you said you would. He was always worried about you. Instantly missing the warmth of your smile as soon as you left.
“That’s not important right now. I need you to hold still, this is going to hurt,” his face heated slightly as you searched him, that apologetic guilt in your expression made him want to hold you and tell you everything was okay.
But he wouldn’t.
Because you two were friends.
And had been for years.
Despite his budding feelings, he would never cross that line with you.
Unless you wanted to, of course…
“It’s fine. Do what you gotta do,” he responded flatly, choosing instead to find the wooden skirting board incredibly interesting to look at. Much more interesting than your face.
He couldn’t stop the pained hiss that escaped his mouth as the piercing sting of alcohol in a fresh wound clouded his mind for a moment, fist clenching as his eyes screwed shut.
“I’msorryI’msorryI’msorry,” you muttered under your breath, hating every second of pain you were putting him through. But you had to clean the wound, and you had nothing else to use. You silently thanked the man called Wolf for the burning liquor, not expecting to use it in quite a way. Screwing the lid back on the amber bottle, you set it to one side, gently dabbing the torn flesh with a cotton bud.
“Levi, this is going to need stitches. Shit, what were you stabbed with, a fucking sword?” This was one of the things he loved most about you. No matter how dire or stressful the situation, you could always crack a joke, even whilst keeping a straight face.
“Kitchen knife. Pretty standard for the tavern–”
“THAT MOTHERFUCKER AGAIN?” yeah, this wasn’t the first time Levi had been met with problems from that place.
“Yeah, him. Got me good this time,” Levi almost laughed at your look of subdued rage. He knew how much you hated that owner. But that amusement was quelled when your rage was replaced with something he couldn’t quite decipher.
He let the silence drag on as you retrieved a small needle and thread, not even questioning where you learnt how to do this.
“Sorry, this will hurt again, but not as much,” you warned him, your tone having dropped several notches to something almost melancholic. Angling the needle next to the tender flesh, you waited for his nod until you continued, trying to concentrate throughout the whirling guilt.
He’d gotten himself hurt. Again.
And you weren’t there for him.
Again.
“I’m sorry, Levi,” you whispered, pulling the thread through the wound, slowly closing the gaping tear.
“‘S’fine, I didn’t even feel it,”
“N-no, not that. I’m sorry I wasn’t here. Again,” this was the thing he hated most about you. You had a habit of blaming yourself for things you couldn’t control. You always felt like you had to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders, and you always felt like you had to do it alone. It always took Levi some time and a long, long conversation to convince you that you weren’t alone.
“(Y/N), stop,” you immediately pulled back, scared you may have hurt him.
“Sorry! I didn’t realise it was hurting, i’ll try–”
“No. Stop,” he took both your hands in his own, making you raise your eyes to him. “You know thinking like that is pointless because I always manage to get it through your thick skull that I am in fact, not your responsibility, okay? It’s my job to get stabbed, to get shot and have random glass bottles thrown at me. It’s what happens when you steal a bunch of shit and sell it on. So quit thinking like you have to look after me. It should be the other way around,”
“Why? Because you’re a man?” your small, mischievous grin told him he managed to get his message across.
“No, brat. Not because I’m a man,” he stopped that sentence there, for he feared if he’d continued, he wouldn’t have been able to stop himself from confessing how hard he’d fallen for you over the last eight years.
You took his continued silence as a sign that the conversation was over. He had slightly lessened the guilt constricting your heart as you returned to stitching up the gash. It would definitely leave a scar, since you weren’t exactly adept at using a needle and thread yet, but at least he wouldn't bleed out now.
Finishing the final stitch, you cut the thread with a small pocket knife, tossing the blade on the table whilst you reached for the small roll of bandages. You think Viper would be proud of your work.
“This is about as sterile as we’ll find down here,” you comment absentmindedly, stretching out the bandage and applying it over his shoulder and across chest to secure it. You tried to ignore the subtle blush dusting your cheeks as his hard muscle flexed beneath your touch. You tried to ignore the almost mouth watering sight of his shirtless body when you first entered the room. Fuck, you’d tried to ignore the butterflies in your stomach when he took your hands. Tried to ignore how honest he looked.
You tried to ignore how much you’d fallen in love with him.
But Levi was nothing if not observant. He saw the gentle rose petals blooming across your face, smirking slightly to himself at your reaction. Maybe…
Just maybe…
You two could cross that line.
He found himself missing your presence so close to him when you pulled back to admire your work.
“There. All done. Don’t move it too much because if you pull those stitches, I will hold a knife to your throat and you will apologise,” Levi rolled his eyes at your empty threats, internally chuckling at how over dramatic you could be sometimes. “Oh, and rub this salve into it if it starts to hurt. It’s a herbal recipe, supposed to help numb pain,” you left the small tin tub on the table whilst you continued to repack your bag of the supplies Viper had gifted you.
Levi’s eyes followed your movements as you effortlessly reached for the second roll of untouched bandages on the table. It was such a simple movement, but the way your loose shirt untucked from your leather pants, showing just a teasing amount of skin, had him readjusting how he was sitting. Shit you were beautiful. Since you’d both been managing to gain somewhat of an income, you’d been able to afford more food. He marvelled in the way you’d filled out a bit, your own lithe frame rippling with muscle. Granted, you were still dangerously skinny, but that was to be expected down here.
Packing away the final set of stitches, you collapsed onto a chair, once again running a hand through your hair before cringing at the repeated action. You really needed to stop doing that, or your hair would go greasy.
Looking at the small fireplace kettle, you returned your gaze to Levi, who you noticed was still shirtless, and didn’t seem to have any interest in covering up anytime soon. You felt your face heat up for a second, before distracting yourself with something else.
“Tea? I feel like you could do with one,” you grinned playfully, already knowing he would say yes and rising from your seat.
Until you were forcefully shoved back down.
“I’ll get it. You’ve done more than enough,” Levi felt bad expecting you to make him tea as well, but you just didn’t know when to quit. Removing his hand from your shoulder, you stood up, now close enough to either kill him;
Or kiss him.
“Not happening. You almost bled out a few moments ago. I’m not letting you do anything, shortstuff,” you raised an eyebrow, as if daring him to challenge you. Which of course, he did. But not without smirking at the ironic nickname.
“I damaged my shoulder, brat. I’m not crippled. I can make tea for fuck sakes,” there was never really any malice when the two of you argued like this. It was a more playful back and forth.
It was only when the breath of your laugh reached his face did he realise how close you were and the two of you fell into a strangely comfortable silence, subconsciously admiring one another. Only, his view of your face was slightly obstructed.
Levi hesitantly brushed a strand of hair back behind your ear, his hand hovering by the side of your neck. You could see nothing but admiration in his steely, maelstrom hues. Admiration, and something else you were sure you were reciprocating in your own gaze.
It was only then it occured to you.
And you didn’t know how’d you’d been so stupid to miss it.
Levi loved you.
Just as much as you loved him.
“I was worried about you today,” Levi murmured, prying apart the silence as his hand now rested comfortably on the side of your neck. He hadn’t missed what he’d seen in your eyes. A glassy reflection of his own feelings.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to come back late. I just got caught up in some things,” your whisper carried so much tension he was tempted to grab the knife from the table and attempt to slice the air.
But he didn’t.
Instead, he opted to rest his other hand on your waist, gently pulling you closer to his body.
“Will you ever tell me where you disappear off to?” The question held no weight. He knew that if you wanted to tell him, you would. He also knew that you needed your privacy sometimes, and this was just one of those things you didn’t talk about. He just hated how his mind would race when you didn’t come back.
Your heart was almost beating out of your chest, pulse quickening to something you didn’t think possible as the hand on your waist caused goosebumps to prickle your skin. You learnt into his touch as his palm came up to cup your face, thumb tracing the apple of your cheek.
“One day, maybe,” you replied, your hand mimicking his own as you reached up slightly to smooth over his eyebrow, he in return mirrored your response, leaning into your touch. You stayed like this for what felt like years, until he spoke up again with a question that let loose all the caged butterflies in your stomach.
“(Y/N)... can I kiss you?”
Your lips parted as you let out a breath, unable to contain your smile of pure adoration as you nodded a little shyly.
“Yes,” Levi wasted no time. As soon as you managed to form a response, his lips were on yours. You gasped slightly against his mouth, arms moving on their own to wrap around the back of his neck and hold him close.
The hand on your waist extended to embrace your lower back as your lips moulded against one another.
Fuck, he’d dreamt of this moment for so long. And it was so much better than he ever imagined. Levi elicited a breathy moan as you ran your tongue along his bottom lip, silently asking for permission to explore his mouth. Something he was all too eager to accept, eyes rolling as he felt your slick muscle brush against his.
Your hands travelled to thread through his hair as you subtly pushed him back to the chair he’d stood from. He seemed to get the hint, bringing you down with him as he sat, pulling you to straddle his lap.
You drew circles with your nails in his undercut, once again drawing another delightful, gravelly groan from his throat, lips still hungrily devouring his.
It was only until you felt his hardening manhood grind against your slickening folds did a thought occur to you, and you had no choice but to pull back.
“Shit, what about Isobel and Farlan?” it wasn’t a question he put much thought into answering, especially when you were scratching his undercut like that.
“Won’t be back for a few hours,” he mumbled, before reclaiming your mouth in an ever deepening kiss. You whimpered softly as he began to roam your body with his hands, grasping at your waist as you started to rock gently against his tented crotch, relishing the noises he made.
“Ah– (Y/N), sh-shit,” you peppered featherlight kisses along his jawline, stopping briefly to suck his earlobe into your mouth, his soft gasp only fueling your arousal.
His pants grew to whines as you moved down his neck, suckling and biting where you saw fit, leaving purple blemishes across his soft skin. His lengthy moan set your skin ablaze when you found his pulse point, licking a stripe up his neck before sucking on the sensitive spot.
By now, Levi was painfully hard. Wanting nothing more than to free his aching cock from it’s cloth prison. But you were the one in charge here, and he was more than happy to continue at your pace.
As long as you didn’t take too long.
He started thumbing the buttons on your shirt free, dragging it off your shoulders as you continued to leave marks along his collarbones. The clothing was quickly discarded, along with the bralet one of Viper’s escorts gifted you. Levi didn’t have time to admire your breasts within the delicate lace before it was thrown to the floor along with your shirt.
Pride swelled in Levi’s chest as you mewled against his skin, his hands gently kneading your now exposed mounds. He loved how your nipples instantly pebbled beneath his touch, rolling the sensitive nub between his thumb and forefinger, smirking at your hisses.
“Fuck, Levi– shit that feels good,” your praise only made him harder as you sat up, wanting to feel his mouth against yours again. But Levi had other plans.
As soon as you raised your head from the crook of his neck, Levi ducked down and sucked one of your nipples into his mouth. You cried out, back arching into his touch, hips bucking involuntarily. Levi groaned against your breast, the vibrations only adding to the sensation.
Your hands once again found his hair, gently encouraging him to keep going, his own hand rolling your other bud.
Levi switched sides, showing your neglected mound the same kind of treatment, and you couldn’t stop the stream of breathy gasps and desperate whimpers as he showered your breasts in physical praise, making a mental note of every reaction you made to his touch.
Finally you grew impatient, wanting to show him as much love as he was showing you. Your hands withdrew from his hair and you almost laughed at his disappointed huff around your pebbled nipple.
“Don’t worry, I think you’ll like this more,” your voice wasn’t one you recognised. It was lower, breathier. You’d never heard yourself sound like this before.
But what almost broke your resolve was the sound of his voice, showing you just how much your actions had affected him.
“Oh? But I was rather enjoying myself. I think i’ll just continue doing– oh fuck,” Levi threw his head back, eyes screwed shut in pleasure as you palmed his length through his pants. Shit, your mouth watered at the feel of him. Harder than steel and girthy. You briefly wondered how he tasted, that particular spark fueling your next movements.
Slowly sliding from his lap, you left a wet trail of kisses down his chest, careful to avoid the wound in his shoulder. Your lips nipped at each of his abs individually before continuing down to the prominent V in his naval, tongue caressing the small dips directing you down to your goal, Levi encouraging you every step of the way with his sharp breaths and small groans.
Pushing apart his knees, you settled in between his thighs, grinning slyly as he looked down at you, wide eyed. His expression settled for a moment, hand coming to rest against the side of your face.
“(Y/N), you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. I’m more than happy with how far we’ve gone today. I don’t want to force you into doing anything with me if you’re not ready,” your heart almost fell to pieces at the sound of his concerned, yet still gravelly voice. Your coy smile softened to something so genuine and loving, Levi thought he had died.
“Trust me, I want to do this. I’ve wanted to do this for so long, Levi,” you gently caressed his thighs, reassuring him that what you were doing, and what you were about to do, was something you’d longed for.
Levi’s smile was nothing short of angelic. He gently stroked your hair, and despite the heat of the moment, he still managed to make you feel so loved.
“Alright, but if you want to stop at any point, please tell me. I don’t want to make you feel obligated to carry on just because of me, okay?” you nodded happily at his words, giving his leg a small squeeze.
“I promise. Now shut up and let me suck your dick,” Levi laughed breathlessly, tilting up your chin as he leant down to capture your lips in a swift, affectionate kiss.
“You’re filthy,”
“Your fault,” you grinned, subtly fiddling with his belt.
“How is any of this my-ah fuck,” Levi cut himself off as he felt your hand gently grind on his length over his pants, the friction causing him to elicit the most gorgeous whimpers. You could definitely get addicted to the sounds he made.
“Nngh– shit, shitshitshit (Y/N) I– a-ah,” Levi stopped trying to form words as you slowly pulled down the offending clothing, leaving him in just his shorts, cock tenting painfully. You helped him kick his pants from his legs, joining the pile of clothes you’d made as you kept palming his dick. Neither of you had done anything like this before, both being too busy to engage in any sexual activity, but you felt like you already knew what to do. Acting off instinct, you adored his little shiver as you finally freed his length, your own folds slickening at the sight of his leaking manhood.
“Shit Levi, you’re gorgeous,” the compliment slipped out before you could rein it in, Levi’s cheeks heating slightly as your words reached his ears.
“Th-thank you,”
Your eyes took immediate interest in a rather prominent vein pulsing along the underside of his cock, and once again you couldn’t help but wonder how he tasted.
Levi couldn’t think straight. He’d touched himself before, jerking himself off when his hormones deemed it necessary, but he’d never felt anything like this. And when you took a hold of his length, he felt as if every nerve in his body had set alight. His eyes screwed shut instinctively, unable to suppress the breathy moan of ecstasy.
You started to slowly stroke up and down tentatively, watching the different expressions he made. You never thought he could look so needy, and yet here he was, mouth hanging open, brows knitted, eyes closed, a gentle flush dusting his cheeks. You smiled slightly at his breathless pants, taking note of how his breath hitched when you circled his leaking tip with your thumb, smearing his precum across his over his pulsing cock.
His hips bucked unapologetically, back arching into your touch as you squeezed him experimentally.
“Fuck…! Fucking— HAH, a-aah, oh my god… (Y/N), what’re you— FUCK… fuck, ‘feels so— nngh, feelssogood,” Levi’s words slurred as his head lolled back, sweat starting to bead on his brow. He didn’t know what to do with his hands, switching between gripping the table next to him and hovering around your head.
You hadn’t even taken him in your mouth yet, and he was already reacting so well to your touch. You watched him physically relax as you let him go, giving him some time to recover before you’d take it further.
“'M’gonna take you in my mouth, okay? Tell me if it’s too much or if you want me to slow down,” you rested your head against his inner thigh, admiring his fucked out expression as he nodded, his bangs sticking to the slick of his forehead. You could stare at him like this for hours, committing every part of his face to memory. But the temptation to show him how good you could make him feel was far too great.
Leaning forward, you gripped around the length of his cock, delivering a few kitten licks to the tip, relishing in the responsive jolt of his sensitive body. Shit you were wet, it was taking all of your willpower not to reach down and pleasure yourself. You knew your matching underwear was likely ruined, quickly lamenting the loss of such an expensive gift, but that thought was quickly extinguished as you ran your tongue along that delicious looking vein you’d clocked earlier.
“SHIT, oh fuck, ohfuckohfuckohfuck, (Y/N)... shit, (Y/NNNNN),” just as you thought your own arousal couldn’t grow any further, he whined your name and you almost came there and then. Smirking against his dick, you leant forward just a little more, and engulfed his tip in your mouth, slowly taking more of him.
Levi’s hips bucked into your warmth, unable to stop himself as his brain was completely consumed by the sheer, mind-shattering pleasure. He’d decided this was nothing like getting himself off. This was something completely different. This was on a whole other level.
When you had taken as much as you could of his length in your mouth, you started to bob up and down, hollowing your cheeks as you pulled back to suck on his tip, before engulfing him again.
You could have sworn he almost screamed.
“Aaa-ah, you’re… you’re so– nngh, so good at this, HAH-aah, w-wait, fuck, s-slow down. ‘M gonna’– AH, ‘m gonna’ cum,” you did as he asked, taking your mouth of his raging length, gently caressing the base with your thumb as you waited for his laboured breaths to calm.
“Take your time, baby. Let me know when you’re ready,” even in his foggy, aroused state, he was still able to squint down at you with a brow raised at the new pet name. He couldn’t say he didn’t like it though, looking at your swollen, shining lips slick with your saliva and his pearly essence.
“Fuck (Y/N), you’re fucking stunning, look at you,” Levi tenderly held the side of your face, thumb smoothing over your eyebrow as he regarded you with such fondness. He hissed as you jerked his length in retaliation.
“Don’t be so cute, it’s not allowed whilst I’m sucking you off,”
“Technically you weren’t, you were waiting for me,”
“Oh is that how you want to do this?” you eyed him mischievously, and before Levi could even respond, you took his entire, swollen length down your throat, gagging a little at the intrusion before slowly getting used to him.
Whatever Levi was about to say died on his tongue as the tip of his cock brushed the back of your throat. He had no choice but to surrender to the pleasure threatening to shatter his mind, his mouth falling open as you swallowed around his sensitive tip.
“Shit…! Oh fuck, oh fuck, (Y/N)– nngh, haaah, ah, fuck, don’t stop. Don’t… don’t stop,” Levi panted, only just able to form cohesive words as you continue to take him down your tight, warm throat. He sandwiched his bottom lip between his teeth, biting almost hard enough to draw blood.
Tears started to line your lashes as you suppress your gag reflex, swirling your tongue along the underside of his length. Your eyes rolled back as his hands found your hair, not to push you onto him, but just so he didn’t completely lose himself in the pleasure.
The vibrations in the back of your throat as you moaned only heightened the sensation, and Levi wasn’t able to take much more.
“Hhhh, (Y-Y/N), m-move away, i’m -shit- i’m gonna cum, i’m gonna fucking cum!” but you didn’t move, instead opting to moan more wantanly, lapping at his cock and swallowing him down your throat, your hands coming up to rub and cup his rapidly tightening balls. His thighs began to shake as he came undone, back arching completely off the chair. His head was thrown back as you watched his Adam's apple bob through wet lashes.
“Ah, hnng– a-AH, FUCK (Y/NNN)!!” Levi came with a broken, desperate cry of your name on his lips, his salty seed shooting down your throat. His hands tightened in your hair, clinging on for dear life as you milked him through his orgasm, sucking him dry.
It wasn’t until he’d completely emptied himself into your mouth did he collapse back on the chair, breathing as if he’d just run a marathon.
You released him from your mouth with a pop, tenderly kissing his tip clean before rising to check the state of your partner.
“Levi?” you giggled, moving to carefully straddle his lap so you could take his face in your hands. He looked completely spent, head heavy as he lazily grasped your waist. “You alright?” you thought your question fell on deaf ears, until he cracked an eye open.
“Honestly? I don’t know. I think you broke me,” you laughed at his tired, satisfied smile, brushing his sweat slickened locks from his forehead to lean against him.
“Was that okay?” you asked, searching his face for an answer. The grin he gave sent butterflies to your stomach and heat to your already throbbing core.
“Are you serious? Yes, that was okay. That was more than okay. It was incredible,” he gently wiped away any salty tears from below your lash line. “You’re incredible,” Levi leant up to capture your lips in a tender, loving kiss. It didn’t quite have the same heat as earlier, it felt more fueled with adoring gratitude. You pulled back a fraction.
“Who knew you could be so vocal?” you teased with a lopsided smirk, earning yourself a small, playful nip on your lower lip followed by a low, breathy laugh rumbling from his chest.
“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up brat. Not like I won’t get you back,” you hadn’t noticed his hand had trailed down to the crease in your thighs until a bolt of pleasure shocked your system as he slowly pressed his thumb to your swollen clit. “Speaking of which…” –he whispered, dark eyes searching your own– “Would you mind if I repay the favour?” Levi didn’t give you time to respond before his head ducked down below your chin, licking a long, deliberate stripe up the column of your throat. He smiled against your skin as you began to rock your hips against his hand, moaning and gasping with each movement.
“Mmn, Levi,” you breathed his name like a secret, shivering as he decorated your neck and collarbones with red and purple blossoms, leaving his mark on you.
“I liked the sounds you made when I did this,” Levi’s hand left a trail of goosebumps as he travelled from your waist, up you naval to your breasts, the pads of his fingers rolling the pebbled buds. Your needy cry caused his fingers to grind harder on your clothed clit, increasing the speed as you threw your head back, the pleasure consuming you.
“Fuck…! Levi… ‘need more… ple-HAAH, please,” you whined, lamenting the loss of friction as he guided you to stand. Your confusion was short lived when he pulled you back down to straddle one of his thighs, hands gripping your waist and encouraging you to drag your hips against him in a steady rhythm. Levi snickered against your neck as you gripped his shoulders, grinding wantanly against his muscular leg.
“Feel good?” he asked, brushing your hair back behind your ears as you nodded eagerly, too busy whimpering to form words. He could feel your slick soak through the leather of your pants before making the executive decision that you were wearing far too many clothes for his liking.
Levi deftly unclasped the front of your belt, chuckling as you refused to stop chasing your high long enough for him to pull them down.
“(Y/N), you’re gonna need to move,” his husky voice sent shivers down your spine, heightening the blissful sensation of your knot rubbing against his thigh.
“Nngh– can’t… a-aah! Feels… feels too g-good,” you were so close. That coil in your lower stomach tightening and you knew any moment, with just the right movement, it would snap and you would release all over his thigh.
Or at least, it would have done, had his strong hands not stilled your hips.
“L-Levi?! What the fuck? I was right there,” you pouted as he gently lifted you from his lap, tugging down your pants.
You felt a flair of pride as his jaw dropped at your choice of underwear, the deep red, intricately laced material covering only the bare minimum, accentuating the curve of your hips and the lean muscle of your legs.
If only you’d kept the bralet on. You’d give anything to see his expression when you rocked the set together.
“Fuck…” he breathed, standing from the chair and reaching for you as you kicked the pants from your legs. You smirked, seeing his length hardening once again.
“Hmm, like what you see?” you stepped back like a sly vixen, motioning him to come closer with a provocative finger. You saw his dick twitch in response.
“I’m going to fucking devour you,” your breath hitched in your throat as he caged you against the wall with his arms, his mouth hovering by your ear, soft whisper tickling your neck before it was replaced with his tongue sucking against your pulse point. You arched into his touch, smiling as he tried unsuccessfully to repress the small groan when your hips ground against his cock, your own clothed sex throbbing at the touch.
You’d completely forgotten about his hands until they travelled round to cup your ass, squeezing and moulding the cheeks in his palms. Your gasp spurred him on, lifting you so you could wrap your legs around his waist, both moaning as you came ever closer to each other.
Levi held you against the wall, still nipping and biting at the flesh on your neck, sucking sweet bruises into the skin. Hoisting you up with one forearm, he let the other skirt between you, the pads of his fingers finding a home against your damp folds.
“Shit you’re soaked. You’ve completely ruined these, (Y/N),” he teased, gently rubbing your clit not nearly enough for you to find your high, but enough to coerce the most delicious moans from your throat.
“Mmn, worth it,” you grinned, head tilted upwards as he attacked the hollow of your throat with his mouth. His laugh fluttered against your neck, your hands finding purchase in his inky locks.
“C’mere you,” Levi’s playful tone went straight to your heart as he held you against him, carrying you from the wall. His arms braced under your ass as you leaned down to capture his mouth, lips moving in sync against each other.
You hadn’t noticed he’d carried you into his room until you both fell amongst the bed covers, his body covering yours.
You lay there, panting, looking up into those eyes you’d come to adore. The smile so rare you sometimes didn’t think he even could. You certainly didn’t think it would be so beautiful. Your hand came up to cup his face, chest warming as he nuzzled into the touch.
“Hey,” he breathed, kissing the heel of your palm.
“Hey,” you replied with a soft laugh.
“Bye,” you looked at him, your expression puzzled at the response.
“Wha– FUCK!” your hips arched as his fingers once again dipped between your thighs, sandwiching and rubbing your clit between his thumb and forefinger, his head trailing kisses down your front, pausing briefly to pay attention to your breasts before continuing south.
His fingers hooked over your waistband and Levi looked up at you for permission as he settled between your thighs. You smiled at his continued show of chivalry, nodded in confirmation before the cool air caressed your swollen pussy.
Levi must have forgotten how to breathe. That must be why he felt so lightheaded. Why his heart was beating so hard. Why his mind was reeling.
“God, look at you (Y/N), you’re perfect,” if you weren’t so goddamn aroused, you might have shed a tear at the compliment. You’d never had anyone say anything like that to you before. You’d never had anyone call you stunning, or pretty, or perfect. He made you feel so special.
And so fucking good.
Smirking slightly to himself, Levi turned to your inner thigh, biting gently at the supple, soft muscle and relishing how you squirmed eagerly beneath his touch. He was teasing you, and you were growing rather impatient.
But he couldn’t help it. He’d dreamt of this for so long he wanted to savour the moment. Wanted to remind himself that this wasn't a dream. He’d loved you for so long, and he couldn’t even fathom the elation now he knows that you love him back. The sweet scent of your dripping folds pulled him back to reality, like a siren beckoning him to a watery death, he let your essence pull him in, before the tip of his nose rested on the pearl of your clit.
His hands dragged up your thighs, gently kneading the sensitive flesh. He stayed like that for what felt like far too long, until everything happened at once. Throwing your legs over his shoulder, Levi’s tongue lapped a strong, solid line through your centre, sending your mind reeling.
“Aaaah…! Yes, Levi, Levi…!” Levi’s mind could have been a crime investigation blackboard. Making a mental note of every single reaction you were making. The buck of your hips when he kisses your folds. The arch of your back when he suckles on your clit. The hitch in your breath as his fingers came up to slowly tease your soaking entrance. Levi pulled back slightly, peering up at you and honestly, you almost lost control at the sight of him.
His mouth and chin dripping with your juices, pupils blown with pure, hungry desire. You parted your lips to comment on the delightful sight, but were cut off by the rogue moan he dragged from your throat, his fingers gently rubbing your clit, slowly travelling further south until you felt them circling your aching hole. Nerves gently bubbled through your stomach. You’d heard what the prostitutes and escorts said about a woman’s first time. You knew it was going to hurt, if the two of you went that far tonight. You knew it wasn’t going to be amazing the first time.
Levi also seemed to know.
“Hey, I’m not expecting anything after this, okay? I just want to pay you back for earlier, and make you feel… well, good. We can stop if you want,” you whined slightly at the loss of friction against your sensitive bud, but you couldn’t deny the reassurance calming your suddenly beating heart.
“Stop now and I’ll never give you head again,” you grinned, but he could see the sincerity and gratitude behind your mischievous eyes. You wanted this, and he was more than happy to provide.
“Order received,” he chuckled, before returning his mouth to your waiting pussy.
“Fuck, yes…! Yesyesyesyes HAA-AH, L-Levi…! Right there, fuck, fuck! Yes, right there,” Levi smirked as you whined his name, realising he’d never heard a sweeter sound.
Maybe the bubble of your laughter at a close second.
That same scandalous finger still rubbing patterns into your now throbbing clit, bringing you closer to your high. His other hand once again returning to your wanton hole, gently massaging your folds as his tongue darted into your entrance, dragging a long needy moan from your mouth.
Levi gently eased his finger into your waiting heat, his eyes rolling at how tight you were. He loosened a groan as he ground his now seeping length into the sheets below, the vibrations from his mouth almost enough to send you over the edge if you weren’t clenching at the strange intrusion.
As if sensing your slight discomfort, Levi latched onto the hood of your clit and sucked, relishing in the desperate cry of his name as the pad of his fingertip started rubbing against your walls.
The clench of discomfort soon turned to a flutter of pleasure as you adapted to having someone touch you so intimately. You started to understand why some women enjoy this, and more so when Levi twisted his wrist, hooking his fingers up and brushing against that spongy spot hidden deep within your folds almost by accident. He was worried he’d hurt you, your reaction was so sudden, but your loose string of breathless moans put him at ease.
“SHIT, there, stay… Nngh, AAH, stay there… that feels, yes…! That feels so good Levi,” you threw your head back against the pillow in utter ecstasy as he continued to massage that spot, easing anothing finger in to add to the now heightened pleasure. Whilst you felt both fingers inside of you, there was no discomfort as his tongue continued to swirl around your pearl.
This was his favourite part. Whilst having you kneeling between his thighs and shattering his control was indescribable, nothing could compare to the pleasure he felt whilst eating you out like a starved man. Fuck it felt good to make you feel good. Levi couldn’t stop his constant stream of whispered groans as his cock contiued to weep precum at the mere realisation he was wedged between your legs, feasting on your sex. He continued to grind against the mattress, feeling his own release start to tighten.
Quickening the pace of his working fingers, you couldn’t decipher the pattern Levi was lapping with his tongue, moving in what you thought was random zig-zags against your almost overstimulated clit.
You felt your thighs start to shake, moans escalating into high pitched, breathy pants as the coil in your stomach tightened to the point of snapping, quivering with tension.
“I’m gonna– fuuuuck…! Levi, Lev-Levi, I'm gonna cum… Yes, oh fuck yes, YES FUCK oh– LEVIIII!” with the continued ‘come here’ motion and mind numbing pace of his fingers against your g-spot and a final, long suck of your clit, you completely came undone with a desperate, lengthy scream of his name. Knuckles draining white with your iron grip on the sheets, your thighs locked around his head as your back arched completely off the bed.
It was all Levi needed to find his own release, hearing you chant his name like a prayer and feeling you convulse around his fingers and gush around his face was enough for him to spill all over the bedsheets, a small needy whine fluttering from his muffled mouth, devoured by your leaking cunt.
You two stayed like that for a moment as you both came down, Levi allowing you to catch your breath before being forced to tap on your thighs to release him, the clamp around his head easing.
“As happy as I would be suffocated between your legs, I don’t think I want to die quite yet,” Levi’s gravelly, gently teasing voice brought your back down from whatever elysium your mind had wandered off to, feeling his breath against your face. Your eyes peeled open, too fucked out to widen completely at the state of his face. Pearly white translucent essence lathered his lips and chin, bathing him in a glossy coat until he wiped it away with his other hand.
“What the fuck was that pattern? The one with your tongue?”
“Something I thought of on the spur of the moment. L-E-V-I, A-C-K-E-R–” your giddy giggle cut him off, hand pushing his face to the side playfully.
“Okay okay I get it, you’re utterly filthy and possessive.”
“Well, I had to leave my mark on you somehow.”
“As if the marks on my neck don’t exist.”
“Oh, they do. I’ll be spelling my name like that next time,” you gaped at his cocky smirk, unable to believe this was the same man you’d spent years living with.
As if inspecting your release on the tips of his fingers, he went to suck them clean in his mouth, but you were suddenly much faster. Grabbing his wrist, you brought his hand to your face, engulfing his fingers and swirling your tongue around the soft pads.
Levi’s eyes widened, a brow raised in incredulous disbelief.
“You brat, that was mine,” he huffed against your neck, looking at his hand with a pout as you took his fingers out your mouth with a small suck.
“Hmm, I don’t taste too bad,” you mused with a smirk, hoping to get some sort of rise out of him.
What you weren’t expecting was for him to roll to the side, pulling you into his chest so you had to angle your head up to peer into his now soft, grey eyes.
“You taste divine, firefly,” your heart skipped a beat at the nickname he’d only called you twice before.
“Why do you call me that? Don’t get me wrong, I love it but– why?” you murmured, snuggling into his warmth as much as you could whilst still being able to look into his loving gaze.
Levi stayed quiet for a moment, almost as if he were contemplating something, before gently tucking a strand of loose hair behind your ear.
“Because you’re a light, (Y/N). I was in a shit place, and you were a light. From the day I met your scrawny ass. You shone like some weird, feisty little beacon. You’re my firefly in the dark,” Levi was never good with words. Shit, he didn’t know how many times he’d rehearsed that little explanation, ready for the day when you would inevitably ask, and even then he still got it wrong. There was so much more he wanted to say. How you guided him forward. How you bathed him in your glow. You were so much more than his beacon.
You were his whole heart and soul.
You had been for a while.
Tears lined your eyes. You certainly weren’t expecting that. You weren’t expecting something so tender, even after your lovemaking. You weren’t expecting to see the raw, unwavering devotion in his eyes as he spoke such soft, soulmending words. His arms tightened around your waist as you nestled into the crook of his neck, breathing in his fresh, sweat musked scent.
You were both tired, content from you finding your highs in each other. Administrating pleasure for one another.
You were both happy with how far things had gone.
Then why were you both still awake?
Levi felt you lashes flutter intermittently against his collarbones, his only indication that you joined him in consciousness.
Neither of you said anything. You didn’t have to. Raising your head from his neck, the unspoken want reflected in his own eyes. Your lips joined his, gently moulding against one another in a gentle, passionate kiss. Wordlessly, he rolled on top of you, caging you against the bed with his arms either side of your head as his mouth moved against yours.
“Do you want this?” Levi pulled back just far enough to murmur, his lips still ghosting your own. Your hands found his hair, gently massaging his scalp as you nodded, looking deeply into those stormy eyes, blue and silver swirling seamlessly within his irises.
“I want you, Levi. Always you,” you responded, leaning back up to close the miniscule gap between you. One of your hands travelled down his back, skirting round his hips to his half hard length. You giggled cheekily at his muffled groan when you took him in your hand again, slowly pumping as he continued to harden. You wanted this. More than anything, you wanted him to claim you, and you wanted to claim him. You belonged to each other.
Levi lined himself up with your folds, shivering as his tip grazed your wetness.
“Last chance to say no before I take your virginity,” there was nothing but sweet sincerity in his hushed voice, his thumb caressing your cheekbone.
You masked your nervousness by raising a cocky brow, a lopsided smirk pulling at your lips.
“Right back at you, handsome,” you replied, but Levi could see right through you. Though your tone put him at ease slightly, he could still tell you were anticipating what was to come.
“I’ll be gentle, I promise. I’d never deliberately hurt you, (Y/N),” Levi lowered himself to recapture your lips, hoping to take some of your mind off the pain as he began to ease himself into your slick folds. You were thankful he’d stretched you somewhat with his fingers, but it wasn’t quite enough to quell the pained hiss you elicited as he slowly filled you. He would pause his movements at every sharp inhale, patiently waiting for you to accommodate his girth. It actually helped him as well, the overwhelming pleasure of your walls tightening around his cock almost enough to send him over the edge for the third time. He felt guilty for enjoying it, knowing you were in a lot of discomfort.
“I’ve got you firefly. I’ve got you. You’re doing so well, we’re almost there, I promise, take as long as you need, I’ve got you,” he cooed reassuring encouragement in your ear, letting you know there was no pressure on you. You relaxed a little, feeling the pain ease a tad as you did.
Levi felt your muscles loosen a fraction, and relief washed over him at the mere thought of you feeling a little more comfortable. Still, he refused to move until he’d heard you give him the go-ahead. You were dictating this, and he was once again more than happy to go at your own pace.
“Okay… okay. You okay?” you opened an eye to look up at his strained expression, slightly concerned he wasn’t enjoying it. You knew it would get better for you, but there was no point in continuing if he wasn’t feeling good either. But that thought was quickly extinguished when he nodded slightly erratically.
“Yeah, more than okay. I should be asking you that,” your small, huffed amusement was music to his ears.
“Go on then,” you smiled mischievously, almost forgetting about the tearing pain between your thighs. Your calmed, comfortable demeanor soothed his guilt ridden heart as he smiled fondly.
“You okay?” he gave you an eskimo kiss, gently nuzzling his nose against yours.
“More than okay,” you replied, copying his own response with an earnest grin. “You can keep going, by the way. Sorry, I should have said that sooner,” you smiled, looking away a little sheepishly. He hated how you thought that way. Hated how, even now, you weren’t thinking about yourself. He swept away your expression with a quick peck to your lips.
“No, you shouldn’t have. I want to move with you. This is all about you, don’t worry about me,” you could have cried at his words, feeling his lips against your neck. “You feel amazing,” he whispered, grasping the sheets as he continued to fill you to the hilt. You hissed again, but the pain was lessening to a dull throb now, his entire length sitting snug within your walls.
You both paused again, allowing you to get used to the sensation of being so full.
“Everything alright?” you could have chuckled at the obvious restraint in his voice, heart warming knowing he was doing everything he could to make you feel as comfortable as possible. You loved how he continued to need reassurance.
“Yeah, all good. You can move now baby,” Levi looked back at you, wide eyed and stunned.
“Are you sure? You don’t need more time? I can wait, I don’t want you to think–” he couldn’t finish his sentence before your lips crashed against his, your hips bucking as you feasted on his mouth. His eyes rolled at the friction and you swallowed the groan escaping his lips as he began to pull out, only to slowly thrust back in, his eyes fluttering shut at the sensation of your gummy walls gripping and massaging his length.
“Fuck… god you feel so good,” he moaned, having to remove his mouth from yours in favour of breathing. You gasped quietly, raising your legs to wrap around his waist, encouraging his hips to roll deeper. The pain had been completely replaced by a unique pleasure you’d never felt before.
“Yes… Levi, shit, yes…!” Your breathy moans fueled his gentle thrusts, keeping the pace steady and rhythmic. It worked perfectly for both of you, especially when the tip of his cock grazed the same spot you were sure his fingers were grinding against earlier.
“There! L-Levi, right there, yes oh fuck!” you whined, rolling your hips to meet his. Levi stilled, allowing you to grind yourself on his length, your mouth falling open as he continued to rub against your g-spot, the spongy texture enveloping his leaking tip.
“(Y/N), a-aah,” Levi gave up on forming words for the second time that night, loosening a lengthy, gravelly groan into your ear. You whimpered as he started to thrust again, picking up the tempo as the two of you lost yourselves in the pleasure of each other’s bodies.
He kept the angle the same, heatedly relishing in the high pitched moans with each well placed thrust.
“M-more, Le-vi, Levi, ‘need more,” your heels dug into the small of his back as if he would pull away. Snaking his hand between you, your hips bucked wildly as he started to circle your clit with his first two fingers.
“Yes, yes, FUCK, yes, shit (Y/N),” he couldn’t stop the stream of breathy grunts as your walls contracted around him, sucking him deeper than he ever imagined. “Does it– nngh– does it feel g-good?” he asked, as if you could find a voice with which to reply. Miraculously, you managed to nod frantically, uttering a guttural “yes” as his thrusts swiftened to something a little rougher, encouraged by your continued string of curses, his hips now pounding into you. The room was filled with the sound of skin slapping against skin, the continued squelching of his cock entering you repeatedly only heightened the sensation as you walls began to clench, you high fast approaching with the repeated rubbing of your clit and g-spot. Your nails began to claw against his back, scratching lines of fire against his skin.
“Levi... LEVI! Fuck… fuck... I’m gon-na cum. D-don’t stop, feelssogood…!”  
“Yeah? C-cum then. Cu– fuck, cum for me,”
“A-ah, Levi, yes… YES…! LEVIIII…!” Levi’s breath hitched as you held him in a vice grip, his eyes rolling back in sheer ecstasy as you came around his dick, back bowed in an arch, eyes closed as your orgasm washed over you in waves Your thighs shuddered and tightened around his hips as he fucked you through you high, fingers still blurring against your pearled bud until overstimulation shattered through your nerves, muscles twitching and clamping as he continued to find his own high.
“Shit…! Shit, oh fuck… Fuck, i’m so close, (Y/N) I’m s-so– so close, ha-ah…! Nngh, i’m gonna– oh fuck, yes… yes fuck…! Imgonnacum, (Y/N)... aa-aah, fuck (Y/N)!” Levi only just managed to pull out before he came across your abs, groaning desperately as his hips bucked into your lower stomach. You reached down through your own fucked out haze to grasp his cock, milking him through his orgasm much like you did early on in the night. Thumb grazing circles across his overly sensitive tip.
“Fuck, (Y/N) stop, ‘s too much… p-please,” you grinned against his neck as he collapsed on top of you, his face turning to the side as he fell between your shoulder and the pillow, panting against your skin.
You both refused to move, limbs too heavy to even think about cleaning up right now.
“Fuck… that was good,” you breathed, arms coming to drape across his marked back. It was only then you realised how painful it looked. “Levi! Oh my god I’m so sorry! Are you okay?” you asked, gently caressing the now raised lines across the muscles on his shoulders and back, hoping to soothe what you had done. He huffed a chuckle at the concern in your tone. If only you knew how much he’d loved feeling you draw white hot lines into his skin.
“Don’t be. I’m fine, I kinda liked it,” he confessed, tilting his head up to look into your shimmering, concerned eyes. (E/C) irises that quickly swirled with cheeky intent. You poked his forehead fondly, raising a brow.
“You little masochist,” your teasing tone made him lift his heavy body off yours, holding his weight a little shakily on his elbows as he leaned down to kiss you gently, his tongue brushing effortlessly against yours.
“Mmm, it was rather good wasn’t it?” he smirked against your lips as you scoffed.
“Rather? Says the man who the neighbours will be complaining about for the next god-knows-how-long. I think even those shit eating nobles above ground heard you,” you teased, smoothing over his eyebrow, his eyes rolling dramatically as he bunched up the sheet to gently wipe his seed from your abdomen.
“Okay fine, it was really good. But you know, you weren’t exactly silent yourself, right?” you’d never get bored of this banter between you. Never get tired of the amused spark in his dark irises, the slight quirked pull of his lips.
“Shut up,” you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him against your neck when you couldn’t keep up the feigned annoyance on your face. He chuckled into the dip between your neck and shoulder before the two of you fell silent, content to bask in each other’s comforting warmth.
“You need to go pee,” and maybe it was his flat delivery breaking the serene silence, but that one sentence broke you. You exploded into fits of laughter, head thrown back in hilarity. Levi looked up in bewilderment, puzzled by your sudden reaction. But you had a certain contagious spark to your laughter, and he found himself joining you in your amusement. You couldn’t tell whether it was the release of all the sexual tension between you, or whether it was the elating realisation that you belonged to each other. Whether it was the relief of finally physically admitting your mutual attraction, or something completely different, but you found yourself unable to stop the bubbles of happiness from escaping your chest, even when you’d calmed down a little.
Levi too managed to control his hiccups of mirth, at least enough to ask you a one word question.
“What?”
You adored the way he looked at you and you were sure only one other person had ever seen him look like that before.
“Nothing, you’ve always got my wellbeing at the front of that beautiful mind of yours, haven’t you?” your hands carded through his hair as he rolled his eyes again. You could tell he was trying to school his smile back to neutral, but found himself unable when faced with your grinning visage.
“Shut up and go pee brat, I’ll clean up here,” Levi reluctantly rolled off you, pulling you up with him because he knew you wouldn’t have moved otherwise. You were shaky on your legs and he held your arms until you’d regained your strength before sending you off with a quick peck on your lips, something you tried to deepen but he caught on to your antics disappointingly quickly. “Go, you insatiable minx,” you laughed again as he gently pushed you, not before glancing at your gorgeous physique.
“Oi, stop checking me out,” you grinned over your shoulder as you left the room to do as he said.
It didn’t take him very long to strip the bed and change the sheets, finding some spare cloth and cases to drape over the bare mattress and pillows, bundling up the dirty bed clothes and dumping them in a small basket to be washed All before you wandered back in. Levi could see how tired you looked as you made a beeline for him, not quite with the same savvy confidence as you had five minutes ago, the night’s activities finally catching up with you. He couldn’t say he felt any different.
“C’mere beautiful,” he sighed as you collapsed into his chest. Levi tightened his arms around your body, pulling you to the bed with him.
Lying down on the fresh sheets, he tucked you closer into his chest, a smile pulling at his lips as you wrapped your tired arms around him.
As if he would ever leave you.
Tilting his head down, he pressed a delicate kiss to your hair, smiling against the faint scent of his soap you usually used.
“I love you, Levi,” Levi’s breath hitched at the three words he’d longed to hear you say. Never in his entire Underground existence did he think he could ever be this happy. The thought provoked a rogue tear to slide down his cheek.
When he’d regained some of his composure, realising he hadn’t moved or even breathed for a little too long,  his legs shifted to tangle with yours, simply wanting to feel you against him.
“I love you too, firefly,” he felt your soft, relieved smile against his neck as you both settled into each other, drifting off into one of the longest sleep either of you had managed in a very, very long time. At some point he’d rolled the two of you over, facing his back to the door, caging you in and instinctively protecting you against the horrors that lay outside those four walls.
Neither of you woke when Isobel and Farlan returned to the house in complete disarray.
Isobel immediately suspected what had happened judging by the plethora of discarded clothing and bundled white sheets in the wash basket.
“Oh my god, Farlan look! Is bro okay? Wait, are they both okay?! Look at (Y/N)’s neck!” Isobel gawked in slightly scared awe at her brother and his childhood friend. Well, lover now, they supposed, if the scratches on his back and the hickeys on your neck were anything to go by.
“How long do you think they’ve been knocked out like this?” the taller, sandy haired man asked, raising a brow to the girl as they leant on the doorframe, both looking at your sleeping, barely covered forms.
“Honestly? Beats me. Took them long enough though. If they didn’t fuck soon I would have thrown myself out the window. You could smell the sexual tension between those two,”
“That’s gross, Issy,” Isobel giggled at Farlan’s disapproving look, the dirty blonde clipping the back of her head as he leaned forward to shut the door, giving the two of you privacy.
Levi had been semi-coherent. Too tired and comfortable to throw either of them one of his glares, the sleeping bundle in his arms had softened him to the point of gooeyness. He smiled contently against your head.
Honestly, he couldn’t blame Isobel.
If you two hadn’t done something soon…
He would have thrown himself out the window alongside her.
꧁ꨄ꧂
“So, you did know her?” Levi tried to trace the steps he took that led up to this exact situation. He was always about no regrets, but shit, if he wasn’t starting to have a few. Sitting opposite his Commander, an ankle crossed over his knee, arms folded defensively, occasionally leaning forwards to take sips from his small cup of tea he’d managed to bring with him before being almost dragged into the blonde’s office.
He rolled his eyes, setting down his teacup once again, his arms returning to their positions against his chest.
“No. I already told you,” he’d insisted on keeping up this charade of ignorance, not knowing what it would do to either of you if anyone found out. Although he knew it was useless lying to him, Erwin would inevitably find out sooner or later.
The man across his face rubbed his palm against the side of his face in slight frustration, eyes closing as he took a calming breath. Levi almost felt sorry for him. He knew Erwin was under a lot of constant stress, and he knew he was contributing to that stress right now. If it was about anyone else, he would have caved in sooner. But this was you, and he would go to the ends of the earth to protect you.
“Levi… this is serious. If you know her, I need to know. It could help us protect her–”
“Protect her? Against what? I thought the MPs were done with her now,” Levi’s façade slipped slightly as worry invaded his normally rational mind. Erwin raised a thick eyebrow, clearly noting Levi’s change of tone.
“Just because they’re done with her doesn’t mean they won’t fight to get their way. She killed a lot of their soldiers, Levi. It’s only natural they would want to harm her, and we can only offer so much protection to the criminals we seem to be accumulating,” Erwin explained cautiously, as if realising Levi was a ticking time bomb, and any wrong move could set him off. But the shorter man decided against exploding at that comment, too fixated on the idea you could be harmed further.
“But you struck a deal with Niles, right? Aren’t you commanders supposed to honour deals like that?” the ravenette asked with no small degree of irritation in his tone. Erwin seemed to be slowly understanding what was going on. It was becoming more obvious that Humanity’s Strongest Soldier was perhaps more than familiar with The Raven.
“Levi, please. Who was she to you? An associate? Business partner? A friend? A lover?” Levi’s jaw flickered at the last suggestion, telling the Commander all he needed to know. “Really?” there was no judgement in his voice, only genuine, surprised curiosity. He didn’t think Levi even had it in him to love another, especially since he’s lost so many.
“Tch, so what?” might as well admit to it now he’d already guessed. Levi’s heart clenched with guilt, already trying to formulate some sort of plan. He didn’t know why there would be any repercussions to the two of you having a relationship years ago, but he didn’t doubt there would be. There always seemed to be.
“No, nothing, I’m just… surprised if I’m honest. You’ve never mentioned her before,” Erwin seemed genuinely, innocently interested, rather than that usual tone he took when he was fishing for information. Levi relaxed a tad, reaching for his teacup and taking a good, long sip, providing himself time to think.
“It was a very long time ago now… We haven’t seen each other in a decade or so,” he admitted quietly over the rim of his teacup, attempting to hide his face behind his hand.
“Do you still love her?” Levi almost choked on his tea at the sudden, incredibly personal question. The obvious answer was yes. Yes, he still loved you. He never stopped loving you. He only realised how much he really did still love you when he saw you again.
“No,” his response wasn’t as strong as he wanted it to be, and true to his perceptive nature, Erwin noted his hesitancy.
“I think we’re well past lying now, don’t you think?” Erwin smiled gently, now knowing why this was always such a sensitive subject for Levi. Why he stormed into his office the other day demanding to talk to him. Why he was so beside himself about your treatment.
That was his past lover.
Levi sighed, placing the teacup back on the desk before running a frustrated hand through his hair.
“It’s more complicated than that,”
“It’s a yes or no question Levi,”
“What’s it to you, Eyebrows? Pretty sure my answer doesn’t dictate whether she’s safe or not just because The Raven is an ex to one of your captains,” the venom in his voice was tamed by his obvious fatigue. Erwin could only imagine how much of a toll this had taken on the ravenette.
“No. It doesn’t. But I don’t want you to think you can’t come to your friends about something like this, Levi. She’s–” Erwin cut himself off, internally debating the best way to go about this. “She’s somebody important to you. Incredibly important, if your little display the other demonstrated anything,” Levi rolled his eyes, clicking his tongue at the remark.
“I just don’t want her to get hurt. More than she already has,” it was strange seeing Levi, a man Erwin had known to be incredibly stoic and in control seem so vulnerable. It was strange to think Levi had any weaknesses. But the blonde supposed every man had a weakness. Even him.
However if Levi didn’t want her to get hurt, then he should have spoken up before Erwin struck a deal with the MPs to let her join the Scouts.
“Levi… She's a Scout now. It’s highly likely she’s going to get hurt on expeditions,”
“I KNOW THAT,” Erwin raised his brows at the sudden, raised tone, not expecting something quite that desperate to come from Levi, the smaller man now refusing to make eye-contact. “I know that,” he repeated quietly. It was obvious he was in a difficult situation.
“Then I'll ask you again. Do you still love her?” Erwin’s tone was ever patient, something Levi appreciated as he sat in silence before answering, once again unable to meet Erwin’s piercing gaze.
“Yes. Yes I do. I didn’t stop. I never stopped loving her,” Erwin’s expression softened at Levi’s words, leaning his chin against his intertwined fingers, his elbows resting on the desk.
“Does she know that?”
“Fuck sakes Erwin, are you seriously giving me dating advice?” Levi raised what could have been an amused brow, if only the seriousness of the conversation didn’t convert it into something of irritation. He couldn’t deny this conversation had gone better than he could have expected. He didn’t expect his Commander to be so supportive of a relationship between his Strongest Soldier and The Raven. But, he supposed, as much as he hated to admit it, Erwin was one of his closest friends. And his hearty chuckle only exaggerated that fact.
Annoyingly.
“No. No I’m not. I’m not one to give such advice,” another silence settled between the two men, before Erwin spoke up again. “What would you like to do about this?” he asked, willing to let Levi have some say in how his ex lover was treated within the Scouts.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, how would you like to oversee her training? From what I’ve seen, she doesn’t respond well to… authority,” god, talking about this it was akin walking on a sleeping titan, not knowing what would suddenly jolt it awake enough to lunge and bite. This was more Hange’s field than anything, knowing Levi had a strange soft spot for the scientist. Not that he would ever admit it.
“No. I don’t think that’s a good idea. She’s… well… Yes, she’s difficult. And yes, she doesn’t like authority. And yes, she’s perfectly capable of kicking the shit out of any of us whilst eating a salad as she did it but she’s not impossible. You just have to know how to… work her,”
“Sounds like you do,”
“Watch it.”
“Apologies. That was inappropriate,” Levi could tell there was nothing apologetic about Erwin’s tone. And he couldn’t deny that it was rather funny, conveying his thoughts with a less spiteful eye roll.
Eyebrows’ eyebrows furrowed in thought, wondering who should survey your training, and who’s squad you should join after.
“I can have Miche take her through ODM maintenance, he should–”
“No point. She knows how those things work better than you or I. She was the one who sold to us,”
“Without your knowledge?” Levi stayed awkwardly quiet for a moment.
“She was wearing a mask…”
“Seriously?”
“It’s dark down there, okay? We couldn’t fucking see her face,” Levi spat, only adding to Erwin’s humerous disbelief. “Anyway, she doesn’t need to be taught that shit. She already knows it. She just needs to be taught how to use it. But she’s a fast learner. If she doesn’t surpass Miche’s kill count in her first two weeks I'll be extremely surprised,” Erwin smiled subtly as Levi kept singing your praises, seemingly unable to stop himself from aggressively gushing about how fantastic you were.
“You seem confident,”
“I am.”
“Why?” The question caught him off guard. Why? Because it was you. He was always confident when it came to you. He could always trust you with anything because he knew you.
Or… at least…
He did.
“Look, I know you’re usually the one asking me to trust you, but just this once, trust me,” Erwin had already made the decision to trust Levi on this one. He seemed to know you better than anyone, even if he had just avoided the question.
“I was going to anyway, but alright. Miche for ODM, Hange for titan theory–”
“Terrible idea, but continue,”
“And she can join the rest of the soldiers for hand to hand. Does that suit you?” Levi couldn’t quite understand why Erwin was being so lenient with this.
“I don’t give you orders. If that’s how it is, that’s how it’ll be,” the raven haired man folded his arms once again, leaning back in his chair.
“Levi, I’m trying to be accommodating about this,” Erwin huffed, growing ever more tired with the Captain’s attitude.
“Why? Just treat her like any other cadet,”
“Honestly? Because I don’t want you to be in a constant foul mood if something goes wrong with her training,” Levi scoffed, averting his eyes from Erwin.
“Fine. Yes, that suits me. Whether it’ll suit her or not… that’s a different question altogether,” Levi’s subtle, fond smile didn’t escape Erwin’s ever-searching gaze, the man picking up on all of Levi’s tells.
“Very well. She can join Captain Francis’ squad as a temporary fix until we see where she would fit in–”
“That man’s a waste of air and you know it,” Levi really was behaving like a petulant child, huffing and folding his arms with every idea he disagreed with.
“Whilst yes, I agree with you, he’s also another Captain. You should probably treat him like one,”
“I don’t see him here with us, do you?”
“Levi…” Erwin warned lowly. Though he did sometimes enjoy the smaller man’s sarcastic quips, now wasn’t the time for such things. Before Levi could respond to the warning however, Erwin continued swiftly. “So, you’ll oversee her training?”
“Didn’t I just say that was a bad idea?”
“I find myself disagreeing with you.”
“Tch, fine. ``We done here?” he asked, tapping his foot impatiently as if he’d been waiting to ask that question throughout their entire meeting. Erwin sighed, trying so hard not to roll his own eyes before nodding and waving a hand. But before Levi could even open the door, he was stopped.
“Levi… What's her name?” Erwin asked, peering at him as if he could see right through him. Levi’s expression softened, thinking back to when she asked him to refer to her with her name rather than her alias.
“(Y/N),” he spoke your name as if saying it any louder would shatter it, the delicacy in his tone so unlike the Levi Erwin had come to know. “But call her Raven until she tells you. Hate to say it, but you wouldn’t stand a chance if she decides you have a target on your back,” that alien fondness returned to Levi’s expression, as if he wasn’t talking about his ex lover possibly murdering his commander.
“I’ll take your word for it. Thank you Levi, for being honest with me. I know there’s more to say, but I'm sure you’d rather rest than talk to me about it,” the offer was there, Levi knew it was. He knew Erwin was offering to help sort through his thoughts with him, but he needed time to…
Adjust to this new normal.
So instead he hummed non-comitally and bid the Commander goodnight.
“Night Erwin, don’t strain yourself too hard thinking about this,” it was his way of saying he was grateful for Erwin’s support. Levi always had his own special way of saying things like this.
Erwin couldn’t respond before Levi was already closing the door behind him.
꧁ꨄ꧂
Warm shower. No, hot shower. Fuck it, scalding shower. Levi kept turning up the temperature, the showerhead gurgling with each twist. He usually found, when nothing else could calm his nerves or soothe his head, a scalding shower and a hot tea worked the trick. But every part of him was alight tonight. His body, his mind.
His heart and soul.
His entire being crackled with some sort of energy he hadn’t felt in a while. He recognised it. Of course he did. It was the same energy he’d feel whenever you’d return home from your strange trips away, which he now knew was Viper teaching you how to survive. Was that how you knew how to stitch his wound that night? Was that how you knew how to effectively apply a bandage, how to suture and sew? That night when he’d stumbled through the door to find the house empty. When he’d sat at the table, silently begging you to come back just so he could see you again. Just so he would stop worrying.
That night when he’d first kissed you.
There were a lot of firsts that night, he remembered fondly. The first kiss, the first touch. The first time he’d heard you moan his name. The first time he moaned yours.
The first time he’d felt such utter pleasure, when your tongue swirled around his tip and your lips lapped at his vein. When your throat massaged his length and he spilled into your mouth.
The first time he’d tasted you, delicately kissing your swollen folds and listening to you unravel above him. Your breathy whines playing on repeat in his head.
The first time you two were joined, closer than you’d ever been before.
Gradually, the shower became far, far too hot. Looking down, Levi could both see and feel the result of his little nostalgia trip. The small whimper of his name in the cell had unlocked a torrent of repressed urges that now sprang to light.
In more ways than one.
It was wrong. It was so, so wrong. You were a mere husk of who you were. You were damaged, fractured. Spiderwebbed cracks lined your mind, threatening to shatter and yet, no matter how far down he turned the shower temperature, no matter how much cold water splashed against his toned back, images of your ecstasy creased face still flashed in his mind, his length only hardening further the longer he left it.
“Damnit…” he muttered with a heavy sigh, before wrapping his hand around his cock and slowly fucking into his fist. His hips bucked involuntarily, having not done this in quite a while now. Levi ran his thumb over that prominent vein, remembering how your hot mouth would suckle kisses along the underside. A low moan escaped his throat, lost down the drain along with the filthy cold water.
He lathered his precum over his sensitive tip, hissing at the friction as he began to pump faster, boney knuckles gripping tighter as he neared his high. His hand didn’t feel like his own. There were no rough callouses on his palms, but rather they were softer. Daintier. Smaller. He couldn’t stop his imagination running wild as he thought of you jerking him off, that playful, fox-like smile pulling at your lips whenever his back arched or his hips bucked.
“Fuck…” he groaned, fucking into his fist with renewed vigor, his balls tightening as he felt his release wash through his body, mouth falling open. Throwing his head back, Levi thrusted his hips into his grip as ropes of white seed spilled from his tip, seeping through his fingers.
He braced his arm against the white tiled wall, watching the water wash away his ivory sins as his cock softened in his hand. Guilt punctured his afterglow, self hatred a constant accomplice as he turned the temperature back up to boiling, hissing as the lava scalded his back, staining his skin an angry red. He wouldn’t have tea after this. He wouldn’t carefully dry himself off, or sit at his desk and stave away sleep.
He would collapse amongst the unused duvet and pillows of his bed, and hope his nightmares carry him to retribution.
139 notes · View notes
cloudy-minded-idiot · 3 years
Text
closing time
pairing: Natasha Romanoff x female reader (kinda?)
warning: mentions of blood, a probably very inaccurate description of a wound being treated (lemme know if I should add anything else)
word count: around 3,000
a/n: wrote this before bed last night and edited it this morning. feedback would be appreciated, just pls don’t be too hard on me, since it’s the first fic i’m posting on here. i have a vague idea for a second part if anyone’s interested.
summary: a wounded stranger stumbles into your life one night, and you find yourself helping her out despite your better instincts.
next part
Tumblr media
It was a slow night for a change. The last customer had left half an hour ago. An elderly man who had only bought two packs of cigarettes and some strawberry mint gum to go along with it. He was a regular, came in at least once a week, always bought the same thing. The kind of customer you enjoyed after a long day: quiet and quick to leave.  
You were all set to lock up for the day. All you could do now was wait for your shift to actually be over. A difficult thing for someone who was inherently impatient and had nothing to distract herself with. Your phone had died halfway through the day, and you had finished your book sometime around lunch. Any other night, you would at least have your co-worker or your boss to chat with, but Mr. Douglas had left early today. Something about his in-laws coming to visit. You hadn't question it.
A glance at the clock. Ten more minutes. With a sigh, you closed your eyes, just listening to the ticking sound. For a while, you counted along. It was calming. Almost enough to lull you to sleep. Not that that took a lot, you were pretty tired after all. You had long lost track of the seconds gone by when, in between the rhythmical tik-tok, a  shrill bell chimed. The one above the entrance you knew all too well.  
You had to suppress an annoyed sigh. Last-minute customers.
Whatever complaint you had on your mind was quickly replaced by utter shock when you opened your eyes. In, through the drugstore-door, staggered a woman with fiery red hair, covered head to toe in dirt. Bruises lined her face, and she kept one hand pressed to her abdomen in a futile attempt to stop blood from seeping out of a wound. Little droplets fell to the floor despite her efforts, marking her path to the counter.  
"Holy shit!" you breathed out, eyes probably wide as saucers. You continued dumbly, "I think you need to see a doctor."
An understatement, to be sure. If her sickly pale complexion was anything to go by, she was sure to keel over sooner rather than later.
The redhead shook her head determinedly, a pain-stricken look on her face.  
"No doctor. No hospital. Just need some medical supplies," her remark was accompanied by her slamming crumpled dollar bills on the counter.
"O-kay," you said slowly, leaving the counter and taking her by the elbow, "I'll get you your supplies, but you seriously need to sit down."  
You opened the door to the break room, guiding her to a chair that she more or less collapsed onto. She winced in pain, and you stayed a moment to make sure she was all set before hurrying back out. In a frenzy, you jogged along the shelves, mentally trying to create a list of supplies she could need. Rubbing alcohol, a first aid kit, scissors, tweezers. You also grabbed some painkillers and a bottle of water on your way back.  
Dumping all the supplies on the round wooden lunch table, you watched her nervously as she started to cut off parts of her shirt to get better access to the wound. Almost instinctively, you grabbed the trash can holding it out for her to dump the blood-soaked fabric into.  
"Water," she croaked out in between painful gasps, "Need to…rinse the wound." 
Mutely, you nodded. Rummaging through the cabinet of the small old-fashioned kitchen counter until you found a big bowl and filled it up. Dipping a towel into the lukewarm water, you knelt in front of the woman.  
"Let me do it. You need to save your strength."
She looked like she wanted to object, but, in the end, she gave you a curt nod. There was a lot of blood. You did your best not to irritate the wound too much. By the time you were finished, the water itself was a deep crimson. She had closed her eyes, sweat covering her brow. She grabbed you by the sleeve of your shirt when you tried to stand up, holding you in place.  
"Now with alcohol," she told you. Your eyes flickered to the bottle on the table.
You hesitate. Swallowing the lump in your throat.
"Are you sure?"
"Do it," the redhead commanded, eyes still closed. She let go of your arm then, returning hers to the armrest of the chair. Her fingers left behind bloody prints.  
You obeyed her order, wincing along with her in sympathy as you pressed the alcohol-drenched cloth to her wound. You could only imagine how much it must sting. Her grip on the armrests tightened until her knuckles turned white. When you were done, she inspected the wound, eyes narrowed to see in the dim light of the fluorescent lamps. A long silence stretched between you two. She looked up, meeting your gaze for the first time. Her eyes were a mix of greens with little specks of grey thrown in. Under different circumstances, you might have admired them a little longer. They were quite beautiful.
"Can you sew?"  
You nod slowly, sensing where she was going with this and not liking it one bit.  
It took a while to find sewing supplies. Taking deep breaths, you willed your hands to stop shaking and followed her murmured instructions. Put on latex gloves, sterilize the needle and thread. She sounded very calm as she explained how to make the first stitch, didn't even flinch when the needle pricked her skin. It helped calm you down a little.  
By the time you cut off the excess thread, you found yourself unable to recall doing any of the other stitches. The rush of the moment made the procedure seem to pass faster than it probably did in reality. She eyed your handiwork for a moment before giving a small nod of approval, a faint, exhausted smile tugging at her lips.  
“Not bad for a rookie.”  
“Thanks,” you breathed out, already preoccupied with sifting through the first aid kit.
Wrapping the wound was much more your forte. The redhead leaned back in the chair once you finished, washing some painkillers down with a big gulp from the water bottle. With the adrenaline wearing down, you felt as exhausted as she looked. Leaning back against the table leg, you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, your body relaxing as your apprehension lessened little by little.
You took a couple of moments to mentally catch up to what just happened, processing the sheer craziness of it all. Your brain was brimming with questions. Who was she?  Who hurt her? Why didn’t she get professional help? They were on the tip of your tongue. But the woman passed out before you had the chance to ask her anything.  
With tremulous hands, you cleaned the store for the second time that evening, wiping up blood from the floor, the chair, and the table. You discarded the rags with the rest of the used supplies. All the while, you checked on her multiple times, unable to shake the fear she might die right then and there. She looked unnaturally pale, but her pulse continued to drum rhythmically, her chest kept rising and falling with every breath she took.  
What now? Should you call the cops? The hospital? She seemed pretty set on not getting any authorities involved. Perhaps with good reason?  
You resolved to find out tomorrow, hoping you would not grow to regret it. Slinging one of her arms over your shoulder, you lifted her up and carried her bridal style, mindful of her injury. She wasn't too heavy, but you still were glad you had had the foresight to park your car nearby. After making sure she was safely strapped into the passenger seat, you went back and finally closed up the shop.
________________________________________________________________
The next morning, you were woken up by some clattering sounds coming from your living room. With a groan, you forced yourself out of your bed and stumbled through the door into the next room. The redhead was walking around in the dim light, rummaging through your drawers and dropping things left and right. You watched, for a moment, too perplexed to say anything as you rubbed your eyes tiredly.
“Shouldn’t you be resting or something?” you ask, voice rough from sleep. It was still way too early to be awake. You had thought the pain killers would help her sleep for a couple of hours more. Looks like you were wrong.
“Later,” she muttered just loud enough for you to hear. Crouching down, she opened the bottom drawer of the tv cabinet and pulled out some DVDs you had stored there, only pausing to look at the title of one of them with a smirk.
“Is this not a kids' movie?”
You had no idea what she was looking at, but you crossed your arms, feeling a bit offended anyway. Blame your lack of sleep for making you a little sensitive.
“Do you make it a habit to judge the movie taste of people who were gracious enough to let you stay in their home overnight?”
The woman didn’t answer verbally, just put the movie back and closed the drawer again. She turned to face you, her expression turning serious all of a sudden as if only now remembering where she was and how she got here in the first place. She looked apprehensive, taking a couple of steps in your direction.
“Does anyone else know I’m here?” her voice conveyed a sense of urgency, eyes staring into yours imploringly. Confused, you just shook your head. 
Her shoulders relaxed a little.
“Good,” she nodded, her attention already returning to her little scavenger hunt.
The redhead walked across the room, sifting through your kitchen cabinet next.
You sighed, picking up a couple of things she had knocked over in the living room and putting them back in their proper place. Every few seconds, you would glance at her from afar. She was still wearing the outfit she had on when she came into the drugstore. With her unconscious, you hadn’t seen any way of getting her into some new clothes, at least not without possibly irritating her wound or waking her up. She could surely use something clean to wear. Her current attire was dirtied and bloody, not to mention that her shirt now looked like a makeshift crop top since she had cut off parts of it last night.
“You know, if you just told me what you’re looking for you wouldn’t have to make such a mess of my apartment,” you winced as one of your spice shakers fell out of the cupboard and landed on the stove just as you finished speaking. Luckily, nothing broke.
The woman paused mid-motion, still on her tiptoes, body halfway turned towards you.  
“A radio. An old one preferably.”
Frowning, you picked up and folded the blanket she had discarded on the floor in front of your couch.  
“What for?”
The redhead eyed you for a moment, hesitant and unsure whether you could be trusted. In the end, she kept quiet, ruling against explaining herself. You reluctantly accepted her decision, tossing the folded blanket back on the couch cushion in resignation.
“I should have an old radio alarm clock somewhere in my wardrobe. Will that do?”  
It took you a couple of minutes to find the old thing, hidden away in the very back of your closet, underneath some clothes you hadn’t worn in forever. When you returned to the living room, your visitor was leaning against the kitchen isle, nibbling on one of your pop tarts which she abandoned as soon as she saw you. Eagerly she took the alarm clock off your hands, acknowledging you with a grateful nod. The redhead sat down on the couch, plugging the device into the closest outlet. 
You more or less kept an eye on her while you made yourself some coffee, but you had no idea what she was doing. To you, it looked like she was just fiddling with the controls, only static and a couple of high-pitched sounds filling the living room. It was grating on your nerves, but you made no comment. By the time she finished and turned the radio off again, you were already on your second cup.  
“Are you expecting any visitors in the next couple of days?” she asked casually, sidling up next to you in the kitchen.
 You raised an eyebrow, placing your empty cup in the sink.
“No. Why?”
“I need a place to lay low until Tuesday.”  
“Lay low?” you parroted, “What for? Who are you hiding from?”
Subconsciously, she glanced down at her bandaged wound, and you followed her gaze, slow realization coming over you.  
“Did they do that to you? Did they hurt you?” you asked more softly. She only shook her head in confirmation, “Then why not just go to the police? I’m sure they can help you better than I c-"  
“No,” she cut you off immediately, gripping your wrists tightly in both her hands as if to physically keep you from taking your phone and calling the cops. This only made you grow more concerned.
“No. We can’t go to the police. It’s not safe,” she loosened her grip on you a little.
 Your eyebrows were drawn together as you thought about what she said.
“Why would it not be safe? Unless...,” you swallowed as a possibility crossed your mind, “Are you in trouble? Did you do something illegal?”  
When she didn’t immediatley deny your statement, you started to jump to conclusions, your voice rising with panic.
“Oh, shit! You did. What was it? Were you in a fight? Did you kill someone? Holy shi- Does helping you make me an accomplice? Am I harboring a criminal in my ho-”
She cut off your rant by slapping a hand over your mouth, thus muffling your words.
“Be quiet, your neighbors might hear,” she hissed, gaze darting to the door, almost like she expected someone to burst through it. 
Your eyes were wide in fear, but you listened to her, your heart racing. She slowly removed her hand, giving you a warning look as though she feared you would start talking again. You didn’t.
“I’m not a criminal,” she told you earnestly, “I am, however, on the run, so I would appreciate your discretion.”
“On the run from whom?”
The question was no more than a whisper, too scared to raise the volume of your voice. She held your gaze for a moment before shaking her head.
“I’m afraid that’s classified.”
“Classified,” you repeated, incredulous, “So let me get this straight. You show up at my job, bleeding all over the place and telling me not to call the authorities. I help you out, let you crash at my place and you, in return, wake me up at an ungodly hour, make a big mess of my living room, imply that you might have done something illegal, and expect me to let you stay here until Tuesday without getting any information whatsoever?”  
“I know this isn’t fair...,” she admitted, and you laugh humorlessly.
“Not fair? I would be crazy to agree without at least having an idea what I’m getting myself into.”
The redhead nodded in agreement, looking away guiltily, teeth biting down on her lips. She seemed genuinely beat down, something even you, as a stranger, could tell was foreign to her. Oddly enough, you felt bad, although you knew, realistically, that you had done nothing wrong.
You let out a weary sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. Curse your empathetic heart.
“Three conditions,” you conceded, making her look at you in surprise. Holding up a finger, you started your list.  
“One. No more throwing my stuff around. If you need something, ask. I don’t want to have to clean up after you.”  
She nods, having the decency to actually look sorry this time. You put up a second finger.
“Two. You tell me your name. Doesn’t have to be your full name or even your real name if that’s a secret or whatever," you added with an indifferent shrug, "I just want something other to call you than ‘hey you’.”
“What’s the third condition?” she prompted, not commenting on the second one.
“You promise me that you’re not the bad guy in this situation and that helping you won’t land me in trouble somehow.”  
The redhead cocked her head to the side, an almost fascinated expression on her face.
“How would you know I’m telling the truth?”
“I don’t,” you countered without hesitation, “I’m just gonna have to trust your word here. Just as you will have to trust mine that I’ll keep your presence here a secret.”  
For a moment, she regarded you with some indescribable emotion on her face before nodding in concession. Letting go of the one wrist she was still holding, she took a step back. Caught up in the moment, you hadn’t even realized how close you were standing. Thinking about it now made your face heat up for some reason. The redhead raised one hand as though she was about to take an official oath. She held your gaze unwaveringly as she spoke.
“I promise you, that I will not make a mess in your home anymore. And I solemnly swear that you won’t get in trouble for helping me in any way whatsoever.”
Something about her demeanor told you she wasn’t lying. You shake your head satisfied, a small but relieved smile taking over, some of the tension and apprehension leaving your body. She smiled tentatively in return, extending her hand to you in greeting.
“The name’s Natasha.”
Glancing at her proffered hand, you took it and gave it a small shake.
“Nice to officially meet you, Natasha.”
456 notes · View notes