#but i hate how a simple fever + head cold throws me off completely for double the amount of time it would most other ppl

[segretecose]

.

#literally hate it. i mean no one likes being sick jdksjhshs #but i hate how a simple fever + head cold throws me off completely for double the amount of time it would most other ppl #and i hate that it’s 100% bc of the food #like i could’ve told you on saturday late afternoon/evening that something was wrong #just by the way my body was starting to refuse food #like who would’ve thought! that if you take nutrients away your body struggles even more to recover… #but it’s a lost battle it just is and it triggers other things in my brain #so physical recovery takes longer and mental recovery takes double that #well anyway!

[blueberrypossum]

A Date Down Under (GN Reader x Leo)

OH MY GOSH IT’S BEEN FOREVER SINCE I’VE POSTED!!

If you guys are wondering where I’ve been I write more on A03 with two original fanfics in the making! But, my tumblr account deserves some love too! This fanfic has been siting in my file for a long while and I originally wanted to post it when I was deep in the ROTTMNT fandom (still love it and miss it man). So, I decided to take out my oc in it and make it a reader fanfic so everyone can enjoy!  @bootyyy-shaker9000 ​ I know how much you love Leo so have some of the wonderful boy in blue!!

When Leo asked you if you wanted to celebrate your Friend Anniversary in the Lost City, you couldn’t refuse. 

 The feelings for the turtle though were getting tougher and tougher to maintain. Leo was always the flirt, and you tried to not let him play with your heartstrings, but now a blush would creep around your face whenever he would fire a one-liner or when he would push the physical contact to the extreme. 

You weren't used to so much affection, nor letting the addiction of being touched take over you like a drug. 

But you have seen the way Leo fake flirts with others, and just believed that he was just doing the same thing to you, because you were just friends, right? 

You were brushing your comb through your hair when your phone started to vibrate on your desk. You brought it up to your ear as you got comfortable in your seat.

“Hello?”

“Knock knock.”

“Who’s there?”

There were a few knocks on your bedroom window.

“Me.”

You giggled and walked over to the window and pulled back the blinds to see the one and only Leonardo Hamato, a sly grin on his face as he hung up on the phone. You placed your phone into your pocket and unlocked the window to reveal yourself to him. 

The blue bandana turtle looked a little taken aback as he took in the sight of his best friend. With the season turning colder, you wore something that suited the chilly wind yet sunny season, the cloth clinging to you gently. What caught him off guard the most was the dazzling smile you presented to him, the pure excitement of seeing him causing his bandana to feel tight around his head. 

Leo almost lost his balance as he hopped into your room, sweat growing on him as he tried to find anything else to look at other than you.

“Hey, how's your fever?” He asked, his voice drowned with no confidence, his heart still pounding as he finally glanced over. 

You were picking up your bag and you frowned at the question.

“Hum? What fever?” 

“Oh, yeah, you just look hot to me,” he replied, pressing a confident smile on his lips as he hoped that you didn’t catch him almost slipping up. 

Your cheeks went pink and you playfully slapped his arm.

“Oh hush up and let’s go, we’re burning daylight.”

“That’s not the only thing that’s burning.”

“Oh my gosh, get going, Red Kamon.”

The tall turtle chuckled and pulled out his sword, swiping it around the room until a portal was created. Leo moved to the side and bowed his head towards you. 

“After you,” he purred and you rolled your eyes at him and took a step into the portal and was led right at the center of the Hidden City. The colorful and mysterious city was weird to say the least, nothing but weird creations and magic lingered in the air as yokai walked past you. Leo stepped through the portal and was at your side as you both walked over to the city map. 

Leo used your shoulder as a rest while you gazed over at the map.

“Where do you want to go, shorty?” He asked as your eyes scanned the different areas and pointed towards the Witch Town.

Your mind seemed clouded from the close contact and you pointed to the spa.

“What about here? Sounds interesting.”

“Can’t do. My idiot and less attractive twin got us turtles banned there,” Leo commented and soon his arm snaked around your neck and was completely over your shoulders, bringing you close enough that you could feel his breath over your cheek. 

“What about here?”

“Nope. They banned me there.”

“How did you get banned from a spa?”

“My dashing good looks were just too much for them.”

You let out a gust of air and knew the real reason, Donnie told you the whole funny scenario of Leo needing hair to get into the spa, totally backfired and threw him in jail. 

“What places are you not banned from, blue?” You asked, turning over to him with your arms crossed. 

He gave you his signature smile and leaned down till you were face to face, his beak just a few inches from your nose. 

“Here, just those two places. Your heart? Never.”

“Then what about the Pirate Bazaar?” You mumbled, your heart almost leaping out of your chest as Leo’s eyes widened with excitement.

“Ohhh, I’ve been there! But only for a little bit, let’s go!” He squealed and took your hand and led you through the crowd of animals and other subjects of yokai. His three-fingered hand was cold against your warm one, and you knew Leo and his brothers like closeness to you and April since you were the only warm-blooded creatures; Splinter was too but hugs were hard to get from him. Still, the hand holding made others look over and gush at you two, as if you were a couple. 

If only.

He didn’t let go as he took you into lesser crowds, bringing you closer till your arms were touching. You then realized he wasn’t wearing an outfit, but then remembered most of the yokai’s were clothesless as well. His muscles bounced as he walked and you had to do everything to not wrap your fingers around the growing muscle. 

STOP STOP STOP THINKING LIKE THIS! HE DOESN’T LIKE YOU LIKE THAT!

His thumb started to brush against yours as he turned to you and you swore you saw a red dash against his cheeks, and it wasn’t his stripes.

“You’ve been friends with me for a whole year! Please, do tell how great it must’ve been to be called my best friend,” he said slyly, wiggling his non-existent eyebrows, causing you to laugh. The joyous melody made Leo weak in the knees.

“You mean, me always having to save your shell from dangerous bad guys, having to endure all your jokes, and then the constant-CONSTANT- marathons of Jipiter Jim and Lou Jitsu to the point all I could do was speak quotes from the movies.”

“Oh yeah, may I remind you that you would text me excited about every movie date? Didn’t someone make their signature hot chocolate just for me when I showed this specific someone their now favorite movie? Ring any bells?” He replied back.

“Pffts, you know what? Your one-liners stink.”

The sword yielding turtle let out a gasp and grasped where his heart would be over his plaston as if he had been shot as he looked down at you. 

“My one-liners stink like Raph’s victory stink!”

You laughed and took back his hand and Leo felt his heart flew as your warm hand was gripping onto his cold one. You took the lead and finally made it to the entrance of the pirate grounds. There were booths of stuff that were related to the pirate theme of the area and some were just random selections of things to sell. The smell of seafood and other fried foods drifted into your nose and you led Leo to the entrance. 

After getting Lost City Cash at a money machine, you both took a selfie at the front entrance, Leo bringing you close and him having to lean down due to your height.  

There was a goblin looking woman in the booth at the entrance and the woman took your money and gave each of you a bracelet to get on rides and such. 

“For an extra 20 dollars, you can have a custom pirate outfit that you can switch on and off with ease,” she explained and you and Leo shared the same look, giving the worker a simple nod. She pointed to where single bathrooms were after she got the money.

“Last one there is a rotten turtle egg!”You challenged out as you raced over to the bathroom stalls, the mutant turtle schoffing and charging after you.

With a little bit of magic, you were able to think up your very own pirate outfit with a second band around your wrist so that you could switch it off and on with ease. Leo picked the same outfit he had when he first came to the pirate utopia with Hueso, but didn’t pick an eyepatch this time since he didn’t want to trip in front of you. 

You quickly raced out of the changing room after saying thank you to the worker who helped you and looked around, your eyes trying to find the mutant turtle in the crowd. You spotted the long strands of his bandana and felt yourself shudder at how good he looked in a pirate outfit, how the white shirt clung to him and how he had his sword hung against his side instead of over his back. You swallowed the saliva that was swimming in your mouth and quickly dashed over to him, clearing your throat before you spoke in the worst pirate accent. 

“My, my, isn’t ye the best booty I’ve ever seen in these vast oceans!”

The red slider turtle quickly turned around but you moved out in front of him.

“Aye, wanna shiver me timbers?” You laughed, throwing another one-liner at him and he turned, his eyes going wide as he almost told you that if you were a pirate, you would be the most beautiful treasure that no man or woman could handle or capture. If you were a pirate he could definitely walk the plank. 

“Those jokes are so lame, that they need a peg leg,” he replied, almost hating himself fully for using one of Huesos jokes instead of his own. But you flashed him a smile anyway and motioned him to follow as you made your way through the crowd. 

The teenage turtle felt his heart leap after you and gave chase as you made it to the center of the pirate theme park. 

Once in the middle, you pulled out the map the woman at the booth gave you and started to read over the activities that you could do. 

Leo leaned down close, still a little out of breath, but his confidence had awoken him as he said: “Ya certainly put a shiver in my timber!” he said in a deep pirate accent. You booped his beak away from your face and he blew a raspberry on the index finger.

“So, there is a treasure adventure we can go on, a booth section of stuff to buy, a pirate show of a reenactment of pirate history-Oh! They have timed dances throughout the area! And you can join in!” 

“Are you going to join in?”

“Maybe. I could finally dance with someone who doesn’t only do fortnite dances and dabs.”

“Hey, my moves are almost like a work of a pirate ship.”

“Old and needs remodeling?”

“What?! No! Unique and cool.”

You rolled your eyes and wrapped your arm around Leo’s and led him to the show since it was the closest. 

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

You stood on the pier as ships and flying creatures dashed by, the glowing lights of the underworld turning into a creamy orange to signify that the day was coming to an end. You leaned your arms over the railing as you scrolled through the photos that had been taken throughout the day. You couldn’t help but smile at seeing your goofy pictures and would scroll past the ones you took specifically of Leo without him knowing. 

Speaking of the turtle, he leaned in close to your shoulder as he noticed that your attention was not on him.

“Whatcha lookin at?” He asked, his head slowly getting closer. You felt your body grow warm and quickly turned your phone. 

“Bruh,” you giggled and he gave a quiet chuckle and tried to snatch the phone. 

“If you’re looking at something, then as your best friend I have a right to see.”

“Fine, hang on.”

You quickly saved the single photos of him into a secret file and moved the phone between them, his head still on your shoulder as he scrolled through the photos, both of you laughing at the one where you fought the pirates and failed. 

“What about you? I know you took photos of today for your social,” you commented as you placed your phone into your bag. 

Leo took out his phone and hid it out of sight since his home screen was a picture of them together at an abandoned skatepark and he had you in a piggyback ride and he just had to capture the moment. He handed his phone without thinking and started to go through your bag due to boredom.

You scrolled through the photos until you stopped at a specific one. You didn’t remember him telling you to pose for this photo; it was when you had stopped to eat dinner and you happened to watch one of the kids getting a fake pirate hook from a vendor. Your head was supported by your hand as a breeze caused your hair to ripple around your face in an alluring photo. A blush rushes to your face as if you had been hit and soon you started to scroll faster and found more photos of just you; of you waiting in line, in your pirate outfit, several were taken of you during the pirate treasure hunting, when you grabbed a candle from one of the booths in excitement, he even got a cliche photo of you holding his hand while you led him through the crowd. 

You felt your heart stop in your ribcage and looked over at the ninja turtle, who was still looking through your bag as if he was hunting for treasure. You didn’t want to snoop, but you couldn’t help but exit out of his camera roll and looked through his folders on the right side; there was a folder for comic books, shopping, epic moments, even a puns list, then found it at the bottom. It was labeled with a first letter of your name and a heart, and with twitching fingers, you opened it. It wasn’t many photos but enough to where you almost dropped his phone into the water below. There were pictures of you whenever you both hung out, and some he probably got from your social. 

Holy Hot Soup, he liked you.  

“Okay, now you really look like you have a fever,” Leo commented as he reached for his phone, causing you to swallow and quickly turned off the device and handed it back to him.

“But don’t worry, Doctor Neon Leon will help you get all better,” he said in a baby voice and wrapped his arm around you and brought you close. 

“Maybe you need some Vitamin ME,” he whispered and you laughed at yet another ridiculous one-liner made by him. He grinned at the sight of you laughing and rested himself against your side, taking in your scent and warmth. 

“Maybe I do, where do I get my prescription Aka Kamon?” You asked slyly, a shit eating grin on your face as Leo blushed. Whenever you could, you would fire back a one-liner and was overjoyed to see him be the one to get flustered and a stuttering mess. 

“ Oh, um, well,” he stuttered and mentally kicked himself as he couldn’t think of something to say back and then a question he always wanted an answer to.

“Are you ever going to tell me what those words mean?” He asked. 

“Are you ever going to open a book and find out for yourself.”

“Ha! Jokes on you, I don’t know how to read. And also, there are phones now, boomers.”

“Then look it up.”

“JuSt GiVe Me A hInT.”

You released a sigh and gave him a look while he returned to you his huge puppy dog eyes look and placed his hands together as his bottom lip wobbled as if he was trying to get out of trouble. 

“Finnnne, but only because it’s our best friend’s day.”

You poked the red stripe against his face and then pointed upward, a smirk growing on your face as he gave a confused one.

“WHAT KIND OF HINT IS THAT??”

“A pretty good one in my opinion.”

The red slider turtle let out a large groan as he crossed his arms, his face growing tight as he tried to think of what the hint meant. 

“Are you just calling me stripes but in Japanese?” He said with a groan. 

“Leo you insult me, it would be kind of stupid to call you stripes in both English and Japanese.”

He mimicked your talking right as you finished and he received an eye roll as he continued on thinking.

 So, it wasn’t the stripes, maybe the color? Or the shape?

“Man, this is hurting my brain, this best friend day sucks.” He said as he stuck his tongue out at you.

“Okay, okay. The two words are a color and a shape. Is that better?”

“Yes. Yes it is.”

You continued to watch as Leo tried to put the pieces together and you wished you could get this on video, but it would be too obvious, so instead you painted it into your mind. 

“So, the color is totally red, but the shape I’m lost at. Why did you point at the sky? Is that a clue? Why did you make this so difficult?”

“Because I’m a difficult person.”

“I do like a challenge.”

“One more hint, it’s the shape of something in the sky.”

Leo looked up at the fake Lost City sky and squinted as the fake sun started to set and the moon would start to rise. 

“Red Moon?”

“Close. It’s Red Crest.”

The blue bandana turtle searched the horizon for an answer for why you called him that as you looked away due to embarrassment. 

“Why?” He simply asked as he looked over; he could always tell when you were nervous, your eyes would always dart around and your left foot would start to shake. You rose to a tallen stance though and looked over at his hands.

“I just find your marks...alluring. In Japanese culture, the red moon is respected due to its power. I just thought you deserved to have a nickname that represented you.”

Leo felt his face go completely red that it could put Raph’s mask to so much shame that it would go bland. All this time he thought you were just calling him something insulting in Japanese, but it was a nickname that you made up for him. Not like Raph’s, Donnie’s, Mikey’s or April’s, it was one you made up for him and only him. 

“Stop looking at me before I throw you off this dock so I can live the rest of my life without this embarrassment,” you laughed nervously as your fingers combed through your hair and let out a shaky breath. 

Leo started to get his little shakes as he let out a confused laugh. 

“All this time I thought you were calling me a stupid turtle or somethin in Japanese, whoa oh boy was I wrong.”

You both looked away from each other and the atmosphere became heavy. 

Maybe I shouldn’t have said that, I still don’t know, you thought, but then you felt his finger poke your elbow and looked over at him, and the soft expression on his face almost made you melt.

“But how can I stop looking at you?”

Your breathing immediately hitched.

“Are you blushing? It’s a good feeling to know that I do it.”

You could only cover your face as you leaned against the railing on your elbows and looked between your fingers at him. You hated being so flustered up, but with Leo dripping with confidence, it made you want to curl into a muttering mess. 

Leo watched you with amusement and went to touch you, but then fell back. He remembered how he started the physical touch between you two, holding your hand, always leaning on you, every movie night you would be his cushion. But you two couldn’t kiss, couldn’t cudde too close, he couldn’t tell you he loved you more than just a best friend.  

 He hated how the day went by so fast and now he wanted to do what he has wanted to do for months. But he couldn’t work up the courage, he had a ton of one-liners to ask you out, to ask if you returned the feelings, even though he was mutant turtle that lived in the sewer and fought enemies that could destroy the whole world and wholly Ōdachi he can’t ask you to be a part of that life. 

But, the way you would smile at him and how you always gave him credit for the growth into someone you wanted to be. How you saw something in him that he didn’t even see, and he wanted to keep being whatever you saw. 

He just wanted you.

So, he worked up the courage, tried to make the sweat stop rolling down his body, and looked at person he had fallen for

“Y/N.” 

You tensed up, you had never heard Leo sound so serious in his life. 

“Yeah?” 

“With this being.....I mean if I’m wrong. Would you consider this a date-date?” He spilled out, and he wanted to climb into his shell like Mikey and never come out. He let out a gust of air and didn’t look over at you, his fingers messing within each other. It was silent between you, the city life buzzing around them as yokai’s came and went. You wanted to scream out in joy and say yes a hundred times, but you also had to be careful, along with if Leo was being a bubbly mess, you wanted to take advantage of it as long as you could. 

Spotting a red and blue flower with a bright yellow center growing on the side of the deck, you wrapped your fingers around it and pulled it from its roots. To Leo’s surprise, you pushed your way under his arm until it was back over your shoulders. The blush on his face was noticeable and with being against his chest you noticed his uneven breaths. 

“I do. And I would like more of them, if you want to.” You answered and handed him the flower. He shakenly took the flower in his hand and his confidence came crashing back to him, knowing that the feeling was mutual. As quickly as you gave him the flower he leaned over and placed the flower over your ear. Your eyes widened with surprise and quickly averted them away, a nervous but sweet chuckle escaping your lips. But the Red-eared slider never averted his gaze away from you. 

“I would like that too,” he answered back. 

You both stood there for a while, your head curled into Leo’s chest as his own head rested on yours. You were used to being close, but this was different, this filled you up with knowing and it made the physical connection much more warmer and scarier. Little lights started to flicker around as the city started to get dark, even with no sun or moon. Leo brought you closer and buried his face into your hair, a long sigh escaping his lips in content, his mind slowing down for once and just taking in this moment.

 But the moment went quicker than expected as a low yawn escaped your mouth and the red slider turtle remembered that it was getting late. 

“Alright, sleepy head, I think it’s time to raise anchor and set sail for home,” he joked as he lifted himself off of you and then held out his hand. With a roll of your eyes, you gladly took it and let him lead you back to the entrance of the Pirate Bazaar. He could just use his sword, but he wanted to juice out every moment with you.

The hand hold was different in some way, you gripped his hand tighter and when he came to a stop you would use your other hand to lightly touch his biccup before continuing on. 

You gave the booth teller their costume bracelets back and walked a few feet ahead before Leo pulled out his sword and created a portal. 

He once again bowed his head as he moved to the side. 

“After you.”

Through tired eyes she gave him a smirk as she was halfway through the portal. 

“Thank you.” 

He followed you through the portal and took the step onto your apartment’s fire escape, the flashing lights of New York City spilling over your side as you opened your bedroom window;  throwing your bag inside before turning to Leo. You both turned to each other and then quickly averted eye-contact with each other. 

“I had a lot of fun today, Leo. Thanks for being a good fri-” you stopped yourself since you didn’t know if you two were still just friends, or more.

He let out a laugh and rubbed the back of his neck. 

“Yeah, chief, it was,” Leo said  and then let out a groan at the terrible execution.

 You knew that you had to make the first move now or else you both would accidentally place yourselves into the “friend zone”.

 “Leo, can you bend down a little bit?”

“Why? Tired of being the only short one?”

“You can say that.”

He bent down till he was on your level, a smug smile on his lips. You let out your form of a chuckle as you curved your fingers under his chin. The teenage turtle instantly felt weak in the knees and thought that his legs would give out from under him and became a stuttering mess as you both made eye-contact. 

“Um, haha, is it hot or did you know that, uhh,” he mumbled as you tilted his head to the side and placed a small kiss against his red stripe, instantly making his whole body, for once in his life, burning. 

Your lips were soft against his skin and he stood there as you leaned away and climbed back into your room. 

“Goodnight, Leo,”you mumbled, your hands shaking against the window. 

“N-night.”

You closed the window and walked away while Leo stood there, his mind racing a hundred miles an hour. He got a kiss from you, from you. He never felt so much adrenaline rush through his body and all he wanted to do was go back in time so he could’ve moved his lips over. 

He took a step towards the window and then took that step back. What should he do? What could he do? Were you both dating now? Or were you two at the very edge of the line of a relationship?

He wanted to call his brothers or April for advice, especially since she would slap some sense into him. His shakes were coming back.

He let out a grunt and rubbed his eyes as he tried to decide what to do. He looked back at the window and saw that you had turned on your lights. He walked up to the window and knocked.

You had just gotten out of the bathroom when you heard the light tap against your window and your heart started to race faster than it already was. You were already shaken up by having enough courage to kiss him but if that was him then what if he didn’t want the kiss?

The knock came again and you took a few deep breaths before you moved the curtain aside and there he was, his face all flustered up as he gave a small wave as she opened the window. 

“Yes?” You questioned as you leaned your hands over the window seal. You hoped that the silky night of the sky hid your flustered face.

“I honestly didn’t think this far ahead,” he spilled out as he let out a nervous laugh as he leaned against the window. 

You looked up at him and Leo blinked several times in wonderment at the startled expression that crossed your face. Leo took a deep breath and gave you his signature shit-eating grin.

“Knock knock.”

“Wow, you’re doing jokes in the same place now are ya?”

“Just do the joke.”

You giggled and fluttered your eyes mockingly at him.

“Can I who?”

“Who’s there?

“Can I?”

“Can I...Can I kiss you?”

Even though it was a terrible joke, you felt like you could throw up all of your guts for how fast your heart rate was. Kissing him on the cheek was a challenge but at least you didn’t have to worry about his lips against yours. Do turtles have lips? Or beaks?

The word yes slipped out before you had a second thought. 

Before you knew it, Leo’s hands were slipping into your own, the tip of your fingers shaking but Leo reinsured you with a stroke of his thumb  You looked up at him and was taken aback at how handsome he was, how his stripes glowed in the moonlight and his blue bandana flew behind him as he leaned down. 

Oh you were glad he didn’t have his lips puckered or drool hanging out of his mouth like in the cartoons. 

Swallowing any other signs of panic that were trying to build in your body as you leaned in. 

The city of New York continued on around you both as the kiss ended; it was soft and sweet, not a full one, but it left both of you speechless. You felt as if your stomach was falling apart and Leo thought he could slip off the stairway. He was still holding your hands before you both departed, but with your free hands, you grabbed his face and brought him in once again. The red slider turtle’s eyes went wide as moons as this kiss much more, more than he could ever dream of. 

He wrapped his arms around your waist and slightly lifted you up, burying his face into yours under the moonlight. He tangled himself around you as your hands wrapped around his neck and Leo felt his stomach flip at the actions. Your shirt was warm against his chest and he tried to focus in on that instead of the worry of messing this up. He leaned more down as his hand slipped into the back of your neck. Due to the lack of experience, the kiss was sloppy and messy and anxiety swam between the connection between the two of you. 

But it was a tender memory of a kiss between the two of you, to remember as your first. 

You both finally separated, your chest heaving as you tried to get your feelings under control. His arms were still wrapped around you and your hands had slipped down onto his plaston, the hard material rising and falling under your fingers. Leo felt himself lean back, the shock setting in that he just had his first kiss and it was that deep and romantic and that….

The teen turtle felt his shell bump against the railing and you quickly latched onto him to stop him from falling, a horse laugh coming out of your mouth. 

“Guess you can say that you’re falling for me?” You asked, Leo knew now that he had to have a fever for how hot his face felt. He let out a few breathless laughs as he tried to calm himself down, longing and fear still lingering in his heart. 

All he could do was pull you into a hug and whisper out, “I just want to stay here and kiss and hold you and Y/N I can't feel my heart.”

He buried himself into your neck as he once again slightly picked you up, hoping that your warm body would calm him down, but the organ in his chest raced on as you hugged him back, your arms barely going around his shell. 

“Leo, will you be my boyfriend?”

My boyfriend. My boyfriend. My boyfriend. My boyfriend.

The words rang in his head like chimes as he slightly pulled away to look at her, the harsh blush on her face giving him an ego boost as he grinned at her. 

“Being called a boyfriend, eh? Neon Leon already has so many cool names, but boyfriend is probably the best name to be called, especially if it’s only you saying it.”

“Probably? I guess I should just give the boyfriend title to someone else, then.”

“What?! No, no, no. I already called it, I’m your boyfriend capiche? Now come here.” He pulled you into a tight hug and gave you a little spin, a laugh escaping your throat as you held on.

“Leo! We can fall, and my back cannot handle cement like yours!” 

#ROTTMNT #rottmnt x reader #rottmnt x leo #rottmnt leo #ROTTMNTXREADER #rottmntleo #rottmnt reader x leo #rottmnt leo x reader #tmnt #rise of the tmnt #Rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles

[whumpmatsus]

nightwatch. [ Iromatsu ]

In which Karamatsu finds Ichimatsu sick on the bathroom floor and is prepared to spend the whole night there taking care of him.

When Karamatsu wakes to the absence of Ichimatsu’s scary energy next to him, it’s more unsettling than if the energy had been there.

Maybe that’s what woke him up in the first place? The mere non-presence of one of his brothers who’s usually right there? It feels to his mind as if he could sense something, someone, missing from him. Like he and his siblings are incomplete without that dark aura.

Well. Surely no one will miss him while he investigates this.

After all, usually when Ichimatsu is asleep for the night, he’s out until morning. Something could actually be wrong. And if none of the others have woken up to solve it, then it’s up to Karamatsu. The second eldest must take care of his younger brothers!

Quietly he gets out of the futon, making sure to avoid waking any of the others. Even when he heads into the hallway, he doesn’t close the door all the way in case the noise might disturb them.

It’s just as dark in the hall as it is in their bedroom, but… a light further down catches his attention. The door is half-shut, allowing the light to filter out a bit. He supposes it’s possible Ichimatsu just had to pee, though the closer he gets, the less confident he is in that simple theory.

He can hear small groans and sighs. Not the kind someone gives when they’re taking a shit, no, no; the kind someone gives when they’re feeling like shit. Predictably, the voice is definitely Ichimatsu’s.

Privacy be damned, Karamatsu pushes the door open as soon as he’s close enough, and the scene he finds makes his eyes go wide. “Brother!”

The fourth eldest is curled up on the floor, practically hugging the toilet, looking like absolute hell. His hair is messier than usual, there’s a not insignificant patch of still-damp vomit on his pajama shirt, and… quite honestly, he looks just a moment away from hurling. Again, since he’s evidently already done it once.

He somehow finds the piss and vinegar in himself to glare at his older brother. “G-go away, Shittymatsu…! I can’t…” A gag, though not a particularly productive one, interrupts him. Once it passes, he swallows perhaps more harshly than necessary. “I can’t deal with you… right now…”

“… Well… you need to deal with someone! As I’m the only one available, dear brother, it will have to be me.” Karamatsu kneels down to sit on the floor next to Ichimatsu. The fact that his hand isn’t slapped away when he reaches to brush Ichimatsu’s bangs back is an almost worrying sign. He frowns when the other man’s forehead is distinctly warm to the touch.

Something that sounds like a borderline whimper slips from between Ichimatsu’s lips. “Your shitty hand is freezing.”

Karamatsu shakes his head. “No… my hand is normal temperature. I think you’re actually running a fever.”

He shifts his hand down, gently pressing the back of it against his brother’s cheek, then the other cheek, then his neck. “You are definitely hot.”

Ichimatsu scoffs. “If I’m that hot, I can do better than you, so I don’t need the compliment.”

“Che.” He grabs a washcloth from the nearby cabinet, briefly rises to wet it in the sink, and then plops himself back down. Once there, he leans over and begins an attempt to clean the vomit off Ichimatsu’s shirt. “You don’t feel well, do you?”

There’s a moment of hesitation, then Ichimatsu slowly shakes his head. “I feel like crap. I woke up and my stomach was…” He pauses to press a fist to his mouth, his brows twitching in a clear effort not to throw up. It’s accompanied by a sick-sounding gulp that makes Karamatsu wince in sympathy. “… Doing flips… don’t know how I got… got out without waking anyone up…”

The second eldest clicks his tongue, and tosses the now-soiled cloth over the side of the sink. “You should have woken me up, Ichimatsu! What else am I for, but to take care of my dearest younger brothers?”

Ichimatsu scowls, though it’s clear his desire for comfort is starting to win out over his distaste for Karamatsu. “Didn’t want to be taken care of.” A volley of coughs rips itself from his body, muffled into his sleeve. When they subside, it becomes obvious to Karamatsu, sitting this close, that the white of Ichimatsu’s left eye is awfully red.

“Ichimacchan…” he murmurs, scooting forward to pull his little brother into an embrace. It isn’t fought, and in fact Ichimatsu actually presses into the contact like he wants more. “Your eye is bleeding? Should… should I get Mommy or Daddy so they can drive you to the hospital??”

Ichimatsu shakes his head. “No… it’s not serious. It was kind of violent when I first threw up,” he explains. His eyes drift closed, too drained for the effort needed to keep them open. “Burst a blood vessel in my eye from the strain. It’ll go away in a few days.”

“But… doesn’t it hurt?”

“A little.” He curls in on himself, one arm suddenly clenching up against his middle. “Stomach hurts worse. I think I’m…”

In a frenzied panic, he scrambles away from his older brother in favor of the toilet. What comes first is a desperate gag, followed by an undeniably painful belch, and finally a combination of the day’s meals, or what’s left of them, comes back for a second encore.

Karamatsu cringes at the noise, but only because he knows his younger brother is in a massive amount of discomfort right now. He can’t remember the last time he saw Ichimatsu so sick that he was prepared to spend at least part of the night on the bathroom floor. Not to mention, he’s pretty sure Ichimatsu hasn’t been so willing to accept close contact from Karamatsu… since they were kids, probably.

Most of the time, he tries to pretend that Ichimatsu’s disdain toward him doesn’t bother him at all. Sometimes he can even pretend to completely ignore it.

But it does hurt. As dysfunctional as their relationships with each other all are, he always thought that they all still shared the same love they had as children. That Ichimatsu has become so cold toward him is painful; for all his ‘coolness’ and dramatics, he thinks all he really wants is for his brothers, the people he loves more than anything or anyone in the world, to love him back.

It’s perhaps a little sad that the only time Ichimatsu wants that closeness with Karamatsu is when he’s puking his guts out. At the same time, however, that he’s willing to let Karamatsu this close at all is… a good sign.

Maybe it means Ichimatsu doesn’t actually hate him. Or not as much as he wants everyone to think.

He sets a careful hand on his younger brother’s back, rubbing up and down as a reminder that he’s still here. He knows Totty likes to have his back rubbed when he’s throwing up, so maybe it will be a comfort to Ichimatsu too. “There, there, brother.”

It’s probably kind of a useless thing to say, isn’t it? Unfortunately, it’s the only thing Karamatsu can really think to say at the moment.

At last, Ichimatsu’s stomach seems done with torturing him. The retches give way to dry heaves, which fade into coughs, which then taper off into gasps. By the time he pushes himself away from the bowl, still trembling, Karamatsu has a cloth ready to scrub his mouth clean.

“Feel better?” he hums as he pulls Ichimatsu into his lap. The leftover traces of vomit are made short work of, wiped away as if they never even existed.

Surprisingly, Ichimatsu all but collapses in his older brother’s arms. He looks miserable and sleepy, and gives Karamatsu the most irritatedly deadpan expression he’s ever seen. “… Some came out my nose.”

Karamatsu chuckles and tears off another few squares of toilet paper, then clamps them down on Ichimatsu’s nose. “Okay, so blow.”

Likely too tired to argue, Ichimatsu does as he’s told. It’s a weak effort, and there are some more coughs on the tail end of the blow. When he’s done, though, he ends up looking slightly calmer. “Fucking nasty,” he mumbles.

“Hmm, yes, well… not even I could make this look cool were it me in your position, so that’s no shock.” He wraps Ichimatsu in a hug, being cautious as he begins to rub his brother’s stomach.

Things are quiet for a moment before he rests his cheek on top of Ichimatsu’s head. “… I would trade places with you in a heartbeat, however. To suffer so you wouldn’t have to.”

Ichimatsu huffs… then relaxes against Karamatsu’s chest. “I deserve to suffer.”

Whatever response he was hoping for ― silence, or for his brother to say “You sure do” or to be asked why he thought that ― he doesn’t get it. Instead, Karamatsu’s embrace tightens. Like he thinks he can keep Ichimatsu safe from himself. “No. You don’t.”

The world falls still again, with the exception of Karamatsu brushing delicate fingers down his little brother’s hair. Ichimatsu’s labored breathing echoes in the tiny bathroom for a few minutes before he says anything. “Karamatsu-nii-san, I’m tired.”

“Try to sleep, then.” His voice is softer than usual, its typical theatrical notes absent. His face is pressed to the top of Ichimatsu’s head, arms coiled protectively around his younger brother. “I’m here with you.”

Ichimatsu closes his eyes, and when Karamatsu glances down, he’s giving a smirk that almost makes things seem normal.

“You always are. Whether I want you to be or not.” He pauses, and adds at a lower volume, “… Thanks for that.”

#Osomatsu san #Iromatsu #Ichimatsu #Karamatsu #whump #illness #vomiting #fever #platonic #aaaaa I love Iromatsu a lot ok #boys you DO love each other!! #Ichimacchan really does love his big brother he just has a hard time expressing it ;-; #and Karamatsu would literally die for any one of his brothers Ichimatsu included ;w;

[thefanficmonster]

Hey Vy! 📚🌻 Here!

How is your week going? My roller skates just got here and I'm so happy omg! My protective gear haven't got here yet so I'm trying not to fall but a almost hit my face so many times- i have to stop for some time now because I need to clean my room :_: but here's your three words of this week: Paradise, curly, radio

A lot a lot looot of loveee,

📚🌻.

Hi darling 📚🌻 !

Please be extra careful until your protective gear arrives, I'd hate to hear you've injured yourself 🥺 Anyways, hope you have fun with your roller skates (always stay safe though)! 🥰

Here comes a short drabble with your three words! This one’s gonna be a little different though - no OCs and not for the Resident Evil fandom, but rather the How To Get Away With Murder fandom, more specifically - for my favorite relatioship/characters on the show! Hope you enjoy!

All my love, Vy 💌

Better

Laurel Castillo x Frank Delfino (How To Get Away With Murder - AU: Canon Divergence; AU where the characters tolerate each other XD)

Warnings: Slight spoilers (Nothing too major though), Swearing

Laurel runs a hand through Chris’ curly hair, admiring how peaceful he looks now that he’s finally asleep. He’s got a fever that’s been giving him crying fits for two days now. Having to deal with a sick two-year-old while simultaneously trying to keep up with work and her final studies has been exhausting to no end. She’s been receiving some help from Michaela who seems utterly desperate to keep herself busy at all times, even when she’s supposed to be relaxing just so her mind doesn’t spiral into the void of loneliness she’s fallen victim to as of recent. Connor and Ollie have babysat for her a few times as well, another gesture she’s incredibly grateful for. Asher has offered to look after the toddler too on numerous occasions but that’s one offer Laurel’s never taken up. She appreciates him offering her his help, but everyone would justify this action of hers considering how reckless Asher can be at times - aka 90% of the time.

The Keating 5 has come through for her when it comes to both looking after Chris and keeping up with her studies, proving their friendship to be  one of those rare ones. However, Keating 5 aside, she’s received the most amount of help from one particular person. Someone who’s prepared to turn up at her doorstep at three in the morning if she needs him.

Frank Delfino

The two had a rocky start, to say the least. Their on-again-off-again relationship as colleagues with benefits. Their constant back and fourth. Then came Frank’s disappearance and Laurel’s involvement with Wes, all occurrences blowing huge holes not only in their romantic relationship but also their friendship which has always been a second away from ceasing to exist, all things considered. Friendship is hard to maintain with such a strong, hypnotic and magnetic romantic connection. Some people just weren’t meant to be friends, ever. Frank and Laurel are among them.

Speaking of Frank, the man’s been rather concerned lately, the lack of calls and messages from Laurel worrying him more with each passing day. He overheard Michaela mention Chris’ fever in passing conversation with Asher when she was bailing on a date with the excuse of helping Laurel look after the sick toddler. He’d been surprised to hear that, initially thinking it was a cheap excuse of Michaela’s to avoid spending time with Asher considering things between them have grown sort of complicated. But when Connor confirmed this claim of hers, Frank couldn’t help but grow very concerned. He’s grown used to knowing what’s going on with Chris and Laurel before everyone else so having someone else be in the know while he was kept in the dark made him feel oddly jealous and hurt.

And he could only hold his worries and assumptions at bay so long...

Responding to the knock at the door, knowing who it probably is at this hour, Laurel contemplates whether opening the door would be the right thing to do. She’s double-checked that it is indeed him, that bringing her more uncertainty than comfort, oddly enough. She’s been doing her best to distance herself from him and his life for quite a while now. She’s been meaning to give him an opportunity at a normal life, away from her mess and chaos. She’s been wanting to give him an escape from the fiasco she always finds herself dragging him into.

But he still comes back to her, by his own choice.

“Laurel, it’s me.“ His coarse voice reaches her from the other side of the door.

“Yeah...“ She trails off, forcing her hand up to turn the lock, “...I know.“

Opening the door reveals the concern on his face a lot better than she saw through the peephole. It makes her heart swell up and all she wants to do is throw her arms around him in a tight embrace. But she can’t do that, she won’t. She’s not willing to give him any reason to hold onto her whatsoever. In her eyes, he deserves a lot better. And maybe he does, but he doesn’t want anything or anyone better.

“Hey...“ he mutters, unsure of how to start of the interaction. Things have never been easy between them and, looking back, it seems like they’ve only gotten harder. Somehow, their connection has only grown stronger though. A connection he wants to uphold and a connection she wants to sever.

“Hey...What are you doing here so late?“ Ok, that’s a sustainable question considering it’s 10PM, but then again he’s come to her apartment at odder hours. Only difference is, those other times, she called him over.

“Though I’d check on you. You’ve been rather dead with calls and texts recently. Also missed Chris, heard he had a fever so I got worried.“ She hears the undertone of accusation in his voice loud and clear. It makes her bite her lip with guilt she wishes she wasn’t feeling, especially when she’s supposed to be doing the right thing.

You can’t decide for him. If he wants to keep coming back, that’s on him.

That thought hasn’t crossed her mind yet. It almost feels like she’s letting herself off the hook, feeding into the temptation to embrace what her and Frank have.

“You hungry?“ Now that is a bit more out-of-place question, but it’s accompanied by her taking a step back to allow him inside, “I ordered Thai food I never got to finish.“

He follows the signal, growing a bit more hopeful now that she’s let him in the apartment, thinking maybe she isn’t avoiding him after all. “Loss of appetite?”

“Partly.“ She replies, hearing the click of Frank locking the front door before following her in the kitchen where the hanging lights are dimmed. “Chris was throwing a fuss all day, I couldn’t really do much but focus on him.“ She motions to the living room where the coffee table is littered with sheets of paper and highlighters, some of which have found a spot on the floor as well. “Not to mention the ton of crap I need to do for school and work.“

“Would’ve been a lot easier on you had you called me, you know?“ He comments, walking over to the fridge, taking out the two packs of Thai takeout, suggesting she had been expecting him. She wasn’t really, she was just quietly hoping he’d show up at her doorstep.

“Didn’t wanna bother you. It’s nothing serious, a simple cold, I can handle it.“ She replies, approaching the small vintage radio in the corner of the kitchen counter, turning it on to a quiet volume so some tunes could fill the silences that are bound to occur frequently with the amount of tension between them.

“You could never bother me, Laurel. I’ve told you countless times before...“ putting the food he’s now moved onto a large plate into the microwave and turning the machine on, he turns to look at her, “I love Chris like he’s my son. In my eyes, he is my son and I love him with all my heart. Just like I love you.“

Instead of allowing the deafening quiet to take over them again - the soft music from the radio aside - Laurel lets the loudness of her mind surface. She lets it seep through the barriers she built in order to protect herself and protect everyone around her from herself: “Do you never stop to think you deserve better, Frank? Better than some grown-ass woman with her life in shambles and a kid whose father’s dead. Do you not think you deserve someone who knows what they want and where they’re headed with their life? Someone who...” her confidence is slowly leaving her to fend for herself and so she does, the best she can. “Someone who can cook and do their projects and work and take care of her son simultaneously. Someone better, Frank! Do you never want someone better?”

She hadn’t realized her eyes had been darting all over the place, looking everywhere but at him. How that her gaze has once again landed on his face, she feels her stomach turn at what she sees. That concerned, hurt and disappointed frown only further fuels her guilt, making her wish she’d never opened the door in the first place.

“Laurel, where’s this all coming from? Did Bonnie say something to you cause if she did...“ she cuts him off.

“No, she didn’t. I’ve been thinking about it for a while now actually. All I am to you is trouble and a burden and...“ he gets back at her, cutting her off himself.

“And you’re none of those things, Laurel. Your view of yourself is interfering with your perception of this, of us, of what we have. You and Chris are my family. The family I choose. It’s not about deserve or idealism - it’s about what brings you joy and makes you feel complete. What and who makes you feel at home. Who is your home.“ Always cautious of her personal space, Frank takes a hesitant step towards her and another when she doesn’t back away. “Lord knows it’s no paradise, but what we have is special, Laurel, and I wouldn’t trade it for anything in this world.“

Against her best attempts at keeping her emotions at bay, Laurel feels her eyes brimming with tears as she gazes up at the man she’s never been in the clear with. She never realizes what he means to her until it’s too late. She only realized she loved him when he disappeared. She only realized he meant the world to her when he had already slipped from her grip. And she refuses to continue that pattern.

Instead, she’ll work on finding out what they are exactly and even if she doesn’t reach that epiphany, she’ll still embrace it, no matter the oddity and unfamiliarity of it all.

“Thank you.“ she manages to whisper past the knot in her throat.

“Don’t thank me, you should never thank me for the things I do for you or Chris. I choose to do them. I choose to be here. I choose you because I want you. You and no one else, Laurel.“

Just then, the microwave beeps, alerting the two that their close-to-midnight meal is warmed up. Taking the plate out and placing it on the counter to cool down a little, he turns to her with a small smile on his face, “Let’s see what’s so troubling about that project of yours, shall we?”

And just like that, the tension has lifted, allowing for a smile to appear on her face as well. That ease of the mind is not something she’s been very used to throughout her life, constantly having shit to worry about and people to deal with. That’s why she’s never wanted to be a burden on someone’s back. She’s never wanted to be a major part in someone’s life, at least not until she gets her shit together.

And although she might never get her shit together, she’s got someone she loves and someone who loves her by her side. Lord knows he hasn’t been on top of his own shit either. At least they’ll be figuring it all out together.

#how to get away with murder #htgawm #htgawm season 1 #htgawam #htgawm season1 #htgawm season 2 #htgawm season 3 #frank x laurel #laurel castillo #flaurel #frank delfino #michaela pratt #connor walsh #wes gibbins #bonnie winterbottom #annalise keating #asher millstone #sam keating #rebecca sutter #eve rothlo #fic #fanfic #fanfiction #au #fix it au #fix-it #request #requests open #3 word challenge #laurel x frank

[serendipityunho]

always yours (pg) — jung wooyoung

The bickering, the arguing. There was only so much you could handle before you lost your mind.

You were sick of the aggravated voices booming through the house, it gave you headaches to the point of crying. You hated it. The feeling of weakness flowing through your body and the feeling of uselessness as you weren’t able to do anything about it.

It only stopped for a little bit. You had to cherish those few seconds of silence before the pounding headaches hit you like a brick once again. You knew that if you tried to scream, nothing would come out no matter how hard you try, not even a whimper. 

Never have you had the thought of running away cross your mind but tonight might be the first. Nothing was stopping you. Your parents probably wouldn’t even notice, too busy throwing curses and yells into each other’s faces. 

It was better out than trapped inside this box of hell. But where was there to go? Anywhere but here.

You did it.

Contemplating every decision you were about to make with each step down the stairs to the front door. And you were right, they didn’t notice. You could even hear their tiresome voices from outside.

That’s when you ran, you ran like you never wanted to go back. Never looking back, afraid of the possibility of a sudden change in mind. 

The streets were the embodiment of how you were feeling. Empty, dark, cold, only a little bit of light left. 

You didn’t even realise you were panting like crazy until your legs had slowed down after growing tired of the sprint you had just done. The headache seemed to have been consumed with spins now, just great. It felt like it was about to explode any second now with the cold air sinking in every pore of your body.

Slight relief flushed over you as your eyes land on the flickering neon lights of a convenience store situated in the corner of the street. It drew you in like a moth as your legs start moving again. 

A slight buzz filled your ear as you approached, eyes aching slightly at the sign. It was empty, of course it was, it was a dead street.

A foot into the store and you felt calmer than ever, the quiet atmosphere was more than enough to have you breathing normally again. The cashier looked as if they were seconds away from falling asleep, it was a twenty-four-hour store after all. 

There was a little seating area further inside the store in front of the ceiling-high window, a man occupied the spot towards the end of the table with nothing but a cup of some sort of steaming hot beverage in his hands. If only you took the time to snatch some change off of your table, you wouldn’t be licking your lips for something warm to fill your cold body. 

As you grew closer to the line of seats, the face of whom sitting alone grew recognisable. It wasn’t just a random stranger chilling in a convenience store in the middle of the night. It was, in fact, someone you had once known very well.

You wouldn’t be able to mistake that jawline for anyone else other than Jung Wooyoung. Your heart clenched at the sight of him finally in front of you. 

People say losing friendships with someone you were once close to was worse than heartbreak, you finally understood that after conflicting discourses between the two of you that lead to him parting his way and you parting the other. Not a day goes by without you wishing things could back to the way it was, the way it could be. 

It would be cliche to say Wooyoung was your everything, but he was. He was the only one that understood, the one that could. 

The chair pulled out with ease as you take a seat on it, you didn’t bother taking another glance at Wooyoung, you couldn’t despite how badly you just wanted to mutter a greeting to him. Nothing was the same after your partings, no regular hallway scares, no contagious laughter, no nothing. You missed it dearly.

What were you supposed to do sitting here? That was the real question. Stay until the sun comes up? Wait until your parents go berserk and search for you? Let’s just see where the night takes you. 

It was a silence you’ve been dreading for so long. Free and away from the chaos at home. Back when you and Wooyoung were attached to the hip, he was your place of sanctuary, always buying rice cakes for the two of you to snack on and hopefully take your mind off things. But now it seems like he was the only one on your mind considering he was literally sitting three seats away from you.

“You still wear that ring to sleep?” You jumped at the sudden voice, eyes widening as you stop fiddling with your fingers.

“You know I don’t take it off” It took some courage to raise your head, facing the voice beside you.

It was almost like you were in a fever dream just seeing Wooyoung’s eyes again, his face, him. You didn’t realise how much it hurt to be away from him for so long until now when a stinging feeling erupts in the pit of your stomach.

The ring on your index finger was a simple silver band, given to you by Wooyoung when he had experienced his first heartbreak and you were there to console him. A little ‘thank you’ since he had been too embarrassed to say it out loud to your face. 

“Finally did it huh? Ran away from your parents?” It was Wooyoung who had given you the idea of running away even though you never thought you’d consider it. You wouldn’t say his situation was the same but he always managed to find a way to escape it.

His irrational decisions always taught you lessons, to never do what he did. But look where you are now.

“Is it that obvious?” You chuckled, shifting uncomfortably in your seat.

“Why else would you be sitting here at three in the morning?” Wooyoung’s face remained blank, a tint of concern pooling in his eyes as he pivoted his body to face you.

“Speaking of which, why are you?” 

“Same thing”

“Oh,” Do you comfort him? Leave him alone? He probably spoke up for a reason, didn’t he? “, what happened this time?- I mean, you don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to-”.

“- Actually, they kicked me out”

“O-Oh, I’m sorry” You weren’t surprised at all to be honest. You saw this coming, just never expected it to be now. Wooyoung never really did have a good bond with his parents, it was fragmented to the point where you could never remend it. 

“It’s fine, better now than never. I can’t stand it there anymore” You could almost feel his pain through his words. It pained you to know Wooyoung was thinking so lowly, yearning for escape from his own parents.

“Where are you going to go?” 

“I don’t know, my friend Jongho got himself a place. I might crash there for a while” It was only the two of you back then, seems like he’s moved on pretty quickly after that too. But you? It was progress.

“Good luck”

“Where are you going to go? Are you just staying here for the rest of the night?” Wooyoung furrowed his brows, resting his chin on the palm of his hand as the two of you spoke more words than you could’ve possibly expected.

“If I have to, yes” 

“Good luck to you too then”

“Thanks”

Silence once again. The shot of serotonin from just talking to Wooyoung was the only thing keeping you awake, keeping your mind busy and away from home. You wanted to thank him, thank him for talking to you even though it was barely anything, you were happy to hear his voice. Probably one last time.

You trace the silver ring with your finger, facing back to the window as you sit in silence. You could feel Wooyoung’s gaze still on you from the side of your head, a part of you wanted to face back to him and talk, the other just wants to be left alone in complete silence hoping for the night to pass quicker.

“I’ll be back” Your head snapped up to Wooyoung pushing himself off his seat and disappearing into the aisles of goods. 

You could see Wooyoung eyeing some food near the cold area from the circled mirror in the corner of the store. He had grabbed a few things before approaching the cashier, muttering a faint ‘thank you’ before moving back to the other side of the store.

What was this boy doing? 

It was the echo of beeps that had sprung your interest now. Wooyoung was standing in front of the microwave, tapping his foot as he looked around. His eyes met yours in the mirror, throwing you a small smile before looking back at his little project.

The whirring sound of the microwave halted as Wooyoung pulled out whatever was inside, holding it but its edges and speedwalking back to your little seating area. This time, sitting next to you.

“I bought us rice cakes” You didn’t know what to say, just staring at Wooyoung with awe as he shot a meaningful smile, handing over a second fork to you.

“Wha-”

“I know you don’t eat when shit like that happens so you must be hungry as fuck right now, just eat with me. Please?” 

Your heart softened at his words, lips twitching into a small smile as you accept the fork he held out. Your life turned to darkness after Wooyoung had parted from you, but now, it was like you had found light again.

“Thank you, Wooyoung” 

He chuckled, stabbing a rice cake with his fork before raising it up to your mouth with his hand under to catch any fallout. This wasn’t the first time you’ve seen this trick. Your mouth opens with an ‘ah’ as Wooyoung chuckles softly while feeding you.

“I missed you, I missed you so much” He says softly.

“Don’t leave me ever again, please” You choked, the stinging feeling had come back as you feel tears lining your vision. From those three platonic words, it was enough to open a door full of closeted emotions.

“I won’t ever think about it” Wooyoung instantly embraced you in a hug, rubbing your back with his hand as you let a tear fall. 

“Promise?”

“I promise”

#ateez fluff #ateez angst #kpop fluff #kpop angst #wooyoung fluff #ateez #ateez imagines #kpop #kpop imagines #jung wooyoung #fluff:wooyoung #ateez wooyoung #wooyoung imagines

[ameliashepherdwannabe]

@omeliaendgame

Sorry this took me so long! I hope you like it. Also sorry if I get any medical things wrong. Mostly hurt/comfort. Owelia sickfic. (Amelia sick) btw sorry if i have any grammer or spelling mistakes i finished this up at around 1 am and didn’t proof read.

Drift (takes place in s13)

3rd Person

Amelia was sound asleep in an on-call room after a 18 hour shift, waiting for Owen to finish up. Normally a shift that long wouldn’t drain her as much but she had a huge headache and a strong urge to stick her hand down in her throat and just scratch it.

“Amelia,” Owen came in and roused Amelia awake, she lightly stirred and turned away from him. He laughed at that and kissed her forehead, which he thought was a bit warm, but thought nothing of it. Amelia opened her bright blue eyes and looked up at Owen and smiled.

“Hey,” she said groggily,

“You ready to go home?” Owen pulled her up, no matter how much it killed Amelia. She’s not one to admit she feels off.

“Mmm-hmm,” she clears her throat, they walk out of the on-call room and out of the hospital. It was drizzling.

“Rainy,” Amelia said hoarsely,

“You sound terrible,” Owen said,

“Nah, I just lost my voice yelling at those interns,” Owen put his arm around her, noticing how warm her neck was. This worried him, so he put his hand up to Amelia’s forehead but she swerved out of the way.

“Owen,” she whispers, not purposely, “I’m fine,”

“Amelia you’re warm,”

“I was inside all day, it’s fall, the heaters were on,”

“Amelia I was just concerned,” Amelia scoffed and put jumped into the car. She cleared her throat,

“Let’s go okay,”

“Fine,” Owen said, her recent outburst just made him more worried.

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

It was around 2am when a strike of lightning jolted Owen awake. He realized he was freezing, a window open and the sheets missing. He got up and pulled the sheets off ground and retucked a shivering amelia back under the sheets. He closed his eyes and felt the presence of it disappear again. Amelia had shifted positions and he put his hand on her back to wake her up. Owen immediately noticed how hot and sweaty she was.

“Amelia,” she didn’t respond, “Amelia!” he said louder. She moaned. Amelia was definitely sick. Owen went around to the other side of the bed to see her face. It was pale and sweaty. He felt her forehead and the back of her neck, she had a high fever. Owen sighed, he got up and went to the bathroom to get a thermometer. Amelia opened her eyes and saw the bathroom light on, she swallowed. It hurt her throat. And her head was pounding. Owen came back and told her what he was going to do. She didn’t refuse anything, she felt too terrible. Owen started to worry, she never admitted she was wrong in any way. He stuck the thermometer in her mouth. Amelia whimpered.

“Amelia, what hurts? Is it your throat?” Owen asked, now really concerned. She nodded. He sighed. The thermometer beeped.

104. Shit.

“104.2,” Amelia sighed, “I’ll get you some water and a wet towel okay?” He pushed away some wet hair and felt her burning face. She buried herself under their blanket and drifted off to sleep. When Owen came back he put the cold, wet towel on Amelia’s forehead and it startled her awake.

“Owwww,” Amelia complained and put her hand to her head,

“How bad is your headache, from 1-10?” Owen pressed down on the towel,

“8,” she whispered back. Owen got up and opened the windows all the way.

“Nooo, Owen its cold,” Amelia voiced very hoarsely,

“We need to bring down your fever, it’s way too high,”

“Won’t help if I die of hypothermia,” Amelia was shaking, that’s how cold she felt. Owen sighed and refelt the back of her neck. Really, really warm. He took the towel off her forehead, it went from what was once freezing cold was now soothingly hot. Owen got a new wash cloth and ran it under the cold tap. He came back and Amelia was asleep once again. Once he placed the cool compress she jolted awake again.

“My stomach hurts,” she hugged herself around her belly,

“You have a stomach ache?” Owen asked sympathetically,

“Yeah and it just hurts,”

“Are you nauseous at all?” Amelia nodded in response to his question, “From 1-10, how nauseous are you?”

She held up 7 clammy fingers. Owen brought over a small trash can, just in case. Amelia put her hands up to her neck and swallowed some spit. She winced at this simple motion. Owen got an idea, he went to the kitchen and poured a small glass of apple cider vinegar, remembering it could soothe a sore throat. He got some tylenol and advil. Then he poured more than the recommended serving of children’s motrin, grape, which Amelia said she liked better, into a little cup. Owen thought she was crazy for saying that, still did.

Owen brought the stuff into the room and set it down on the bedside table. Owen sat down on the bed and shook Amelia awake. It hurt her head,

“Ow,” she complained.

“Amelia, I need to give you some medicine,” she didn’t respond to this, her head hurt, her stomach hurt, her throat hurt. She hurt. Owen pulled her up to a sitting position, Amelia moaned in pain. He brought the vinegar to her lips and she gagged.

“This’ll soothe your throat okay?” she drank it and gagged again. Owen got the two small pills and held the glass of water. Amelia put them in her mouth and sipped the water, swallowing the pills. She was about to lie down when Owen pulled her back up. Her head flopped back and he pushed her head on his shoulder.

“Just drink this,” he handed her the purple syrup, and she pushed it away, Owen gave up and just shoved it into her mouth, she drank it forcefully.

“Ow,” Owen handed her the water and she drank it. When she swallowed she winced. He slowly lowered and tucked Amelia back in and she curled up into a ball. She knew she wasn’t getting any sleep that night.

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After around 20 minutes in a feverish daze, the world came into focus by an even larger sense of nausea. Amelia groaned and it woke Owen up. She put her face over the side of the bed and over the bin he had placed. Owen immediately knew

what was happening and sat up to rub her back.

Amelia took off the wash cloth on her forehead as it was making her more nauseous. The second it hit the floor she threw up. Owen rubbed her back but it just made her want to throw up more, so she pushed it away. But this didn’t help her intentions and she threw up again. Owen sighed and kept rubbing her back while she emptied her guts. When she was done she shakily pushed herself up and took a sip of water then went back to sleep without a word. She felt like absolute shit. She was completely fine this morning. Owen went over her symptoms, knowing he should’ve done this earlier. High fever, nausea, vomiting, headache, abdominal pain, sore throat, chills.. his mind wandered off.

“Amelia, I need you to sit up a bit,” he helped her sit straight and adjusted the pillows. Owen put his hands on her neck and felt for her lymph nodes. They were swollen, how could he not have noticed this. Dammit. He got his phone and turned the flash light on.

“Amelia can you open your mouth?” she dropped it open. He looked up in the back of her mouth and saw swollen tonsils with a white pattern on them. Shit. Amelia had strep throat, it made a lot of sense from her symptoms. Owen texted Meredith telling her he’s going to bring Amelia in tomorrow. He texts that she’s been feeling sick and that he thinks she has strep. Since it was around 3 am she probably wouldn’t respond.

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

“Owen,” Amelia whispered, he had his arms wrapped around her over-heated, sweat-dripping, aching body. “Owen!” she shook his arms lightly and he woke up.

“What-what do you need? Do you feel alright?” he asked her,

“I think I need to throw up…” her body convulsed as she vomited over the side of the bed into the bin on the floor. Before Owen could attempt to make her comfortable, she took her shirt off which left a skin tight tank top. She’s hot, even when she’s sick, Owen thinks.

Amelia threw up again and Owen rubbed her back, feeling her burning skin. He forced her some water and let her go back to sleep.

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“Amelia, if you don’t get out of bed I’m gonna have to carry you to the hospital,” Owen yelled softly,

“Nooo, all our friends are there,” Amelia whined,

“I’ll sneak you in and Meredith’s just going to do a rapid strep test and order you antibiotics. You’ll feel so much better,”

“No,”

“Amelia,”

“No,”

“Yes,”

“No,”

“Yes,”

“No-”

“Okay Amelia that’s it, I can’t watch you suffer anymore,” Owen bent down and scooped Amelia up in his arms, with her groaning the entire time,

“Stop Owen it hurts,” her face was molded into a wince,

“I know you’ll feel better soon,” he hated seeing her in pain so he kissed the top of her head. Owen was really worried with how warm she was.

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

Amelia was fast asleep when they got to the exam room Mer promised they’d meet them in.

“Owen?” Meredith opened the door and came in,

“Amelia?” Owen shook her awake, “Meredith’s here,” Amelia just opened her eyes and closed them,

“Amelia, I need you to sit up for me okay? I’m going to take your temperature first alright?”

Amelia slowly sat up and leaned against Owen, keeping her eyes closed. Meredith put the thermometer under her tongue and waited for it to beep. 104.5.

“104.5, really high. I’m going to start checking for strep okay Amelia?” She nodded and Meredith preceded. She felt he neck and looked for enlarge lymph nodes. When she put her fingers on her neck Amelia winced.

“What other symptoms has she had?”

“Sore throat, chills, nausea, vomiting, headache, tender lymph nodes,” Owen answered, rubbing amelia’s back. Mer noticed Amelia hugging her torso. Meredith put a wooden tongue depressor to hold her mouth open and got her penlight and looked in the back of her throat, seeing very swollen tonsils with white stripes on them.

“Amelia, I’m going to do two rapid strep tests, to make sure okay? And we’ll get you set up on antibiotics and you should feel better soon,” Meredith got the cotton swab ready. She put it to the back of Amelia’s throat which made her squirm so Owen held her back. Mer brushed it around for a second and put it in a bag to be sent to a lab.

Amelia gagged, coughed, and rubbed her throat, clearly the test caused her discomfort. Meredith stroked her head feeling the warmth and the sweat of her head.

“Only one more time alright?” Amelia nodded and tilted her head back. Mer used one hand to hold a tongue depressor on her tongue and quickly did the test with the other. Amelia gagged again but this time she looked much more sicker.

Meredith grabbed a basin and Amelia threw up into it. Owen held her hair back while Mer rubbed her back. That’s gotta be the last of it. Amelia thought. Now Amelia just dry heaved, there was nothing left in her.

“I got this, run the tests,” Owen said, Amelia took the basin and continued to heave. Meredith ran down to the lab and told them to rush it. Owen rubbed Amelia’s back,

“I think i’m-,” she started saying but she couldn’t finish and vomited again. Then she dry heaved for a few minutes and fell asleep in Owen’s lap, him still rubbing her back.

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Amelia had tested positive for strep and Mer had ordered her a weeks worth of penicillin. Within the first three days Amelia had stopped feeling so nauseous and her headache had grown much smaller, and all that was lingering was a sore throat and a fever. But this wasn’t how Amelia though things out.

“Amelia, what are you doing?” Owen asked her,

“Getting ready for work,” she responded, It was six am,

“No you’re not,” he got out of bed, “You’re still sick,”

“No I’m not,” she started changing into real clothes,

“It’s been three days since you were started on penicillin, you have to be on it at least five, to make sure the infections all gone,”

“It is,” she put on a shirt, Owen got up and put his hands on her still over warm shoulders,

“How about this, if you have no fever then i’ll let you go back to work,” she agreed with this and sat down on the bed patiently. Amelia rubbed the sharp pain that shot through her temples and Owen pretended not to notice. He got the thermometer and placed it in her mouth. Amelia watched as the temperature went up, rising well past 97 degrees. 102.3.

Amelia sighed and laid back down on the bed and continued to eat the cereal from the box she had been for the last day. Owen kissed the top of her head and left for work.

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When Owen came back the house was a mess. Bags of chips, boxes of cereal and ginger ale cans made their kitchen counter home. He made their way to the bedroom and didn’t see Amelia in bed.

“Amelia?” Owen found her sitting next to the toilet in the bathroom.

“I thought I was better so I-,” she gulped, “ate everything,” she leaned over the toilet and gripped the side with her arm then threw up,

“How many times have you thrown up?” Owen asked, rubbing her back gently as she spewed her stomach contents into the toilet.

“Um, a few times this morning, after you left, but the nausea was worse on an empty stomach, it felt better to puke, ya know, things,” she rested her head on her arm, “but then I felt nauseous again and it didn’t get any better so here we are,”

“I’ll get you some ginger ale,” he hurried into the kitchen and came back as quickly as he could. But before he was back, she felt vomit rise in the back

of her throat and she let her body take control, coughing as it left her mouth. Owen heard her start retching so he ran to the bathroom and rubbed her back.

“Just relax, you’re going to be fine,” he cooed as she heaved, when she was finished she flushed the toilet and kept her head sturdy at her arm.

“Drink this,” Owen put the straw into Amelia’s mouth and she slowly sipped the ginger ale. She winced as the bubbles made their way down her throat. He hugged her torso and let her lean on his chest.

“Owen-“ she shot forward again and coughed as the bile made its way out of her stomach and into the toilet, trying to catch her breath as her bouts of vomiting caused her body to convulse violently. She groaned knowing this was just the beginning.

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

It had been an hour, between Amelia throwing up and Owen forcing medicine, saltines, and ginger ale down her throat, even though it didn’t stay down too long. She had her arms wrapped around her stomach, trying to ignore the immense pain she felt there.

“How much does your stomach hurt?” Owen moved his hands to her stomach and started massaging it.

“You don’t need to do that,” she said softly, the energy drained from her once feisty voice.

“You’re my wife, of course I do. Do you think your done?”

“Yeah,” she said and sat up, but whimpered when another wave of nausea tore at her stomach and she had to throw up again. It hurt so much each time she convulsed and was forced to give up all the food in her body.

“Breathe in slowly Amelia, and out. Keep doing this and you’ll feel better,” she did and her vomiting lessened until their was no more.

“Okay no i’m done,” Owen picked up her small sweaty body and snuggled up to her watching as she took the penicillin and advil.

“Go to sleep Mills,” she closed her eyes and let him rub her stomach.

“I love you Owen Hunt,” she whispered,

“I love you too, Amelia Shepherd.”

They hugged each other while she drifted off into a feverish sleep.

Fin.

#amelia shepherd #owen hunt #sickfic #greys anatomy #hurt #comfort character #meredith grey

[sunshine--temptress]

Love your writing! Not sure if you take requests, but any chance you would do a smut one shot with frat cocky Niall? He's a known player, while y/n is a good student and she hates him. He's always trying to charm her, but she always denies him. But then she goes to a pool party, and he is there in his swim trunks, and he's all tan and his muscles are glistening. He works his charm on her, and then he makes her suck him off. She's gagging on him and he's dirty talking and boasting non-stop.

FINALLY! It's ready! Sorry it took so long, I admit I had a major writer's block in the middle of writing it and also work was (is) completely crazy at the moment. I hope you will enjoy it and that I did justice to your prompt. 

°•°•°•°

Once again Niall walked into the lecture hall late, a love bite high on his neck that he hadn't even tried to hide and a girl on his arm. Love bite you were pretty sure had not even been given to Niall by the girl he was with right now. Niall leaned in and pressed a kiss to the girl's cheek and whispered something in her ear that made her blush bright red. She giggled loudly and you rolled your eyes. 

"Mr. Horan, could you please stop disrupting my lecture and take a seat. I'm sure this lovely lady also had class to attend since she is not one of my students."

A few laughs erupted around you and Niall joined in. The girl left the room, her cheeks still red but probably from the embarrassment of being called out in front of so many people. Niall climbed the stairs two by two and sat right next to you. You sighed. You loved to sit in the back completely because it was usually more quiet and easier for you to concentrate.

"Hey babe, got a spare pen for me?" Niall whispered once the professor started talking again. 

"Don't babe me Horan," you replied without even looking at Niall. You hated him and the kind of person who thought they could charm everyone in doing what they wanted. 

"Darling? Pet? Petal? Which one should I use then?"

"You could start by using my actual name," you said before throwing a pen on the desk in front of Niall.

"Thank you, Y/N." 

The way he said your name so softly made your heart skip a beat and your cheeks felt hot. You hoped Niall was not looking in your direction anymore because the last thing you wanted was for him to notice the effect such simple words had had on you. You knew exactly who Niall was and what his reputation was. He was always parading around Uni with different women on his arm, you rarely saw him with the same one two times so even if Niall was gorgeous and very tempting you absolutely hated him and would not entertain the fantasy of being with him. This is what it was, a fantasy that maybe you indulged in when it was late at night and you were alone in your dorm room but no one needed to know that, especially not Niall. There was no way you would become just another number in his phone and someone he wouldn't talk to ever again. You were also hating yourself for the way you were feeling about him. It was all very confusing. 

Niall put his shoulder bag on the desk and he took his laptop out and a bunch of pens fell out of his bag. 

Niall saw you looking at the pen and winked at you. You groaned and tried to concentrate on the lecture.

*

"Darling," Niall shouted behind you in the empty hallway leading to your dorm. You kept walking, ignoring him and hoping he would leave you alone or maybe he was talking to someone else you had not noticed. 

"Please don't ignore me, it's breaking my heart." You rolled your eyes, he was definitely speaking to you then. Niall walked past you and stopped dead in his tracks in front of you.

"What do you want?" You asked curtly because you really had no time to spare today and especially not for someone like Niall.

"Come to a party with me?"

A party, Niall was insane and this was another reason why you hated him so much. You had to work your arse off and study for hours and hours to have a good grade. You had absolutely no time to party in the middle of the week or even on the weekend. Sometimes you would go out for dinner with your friends but needed to be back by 9 so you could study for a few hours before bed. Niall could show up hungover, on two hours or less of sleep and ace the exam. This was unfair.

"A party? Niall it's Wednesday night and we have an exam tomorrow morning at 8. All I'm gonna do tonight is study and take a shower."

Niall laughed.

"Breaking my heart again but maybe one day you will say yes. Well I hope you have fun studying and think of me when you take that shower," he replied with a wink before leaving you alone in the empty hallway. You looked around yourself in confusion after Niall disappeared, wondering if what happened had just been a fever dream. You touched your forehead but your temperature seemed normal. You resumed your walk to your dorm room hoping no one else would bother you. 

*

"It's been going on for weeks now," you said to your friend on the phone. You were on your way to the grocery store to buy a bottle of wine and your favourite Ben and Jerry's ice cream. The semester was finally over and you finally had time to relax. No exam to stress over, nothing. Now it was the time for ice cream, wine and catching up with your favourite Netflix show. 

"And you always say no?" replied your friend, "I don't know if I am proud of you for being able to resist him or if I want to smack you on the head for resisting him. He's hot and obviously into you."

"He's not. Or well he is but until I stop resisting his charm and then what? I sleep with him and he never gives me the time of the day ever again?"

"I thought that's what you wanted anyway? You always say how annoying he is and how much you hate him. Hate sex is hot and passionate and it's a win-win situation. You get a good shag and Niall stops bothering you. Unless that's not what you want. You actually love the attention he's giving you don't you?"

"Sorry my phone is dying, I will call you back later."

You hung up and dropped your phone at the bottom of your purse. Immediately it started ringing again. You ignored it and walked into the grocery store walking directly to the freezer to stock up on ice cream. You hated the way your best friend was able to read right through you. So what if you liked the attention Niall was giving you? 

"Are you following me?" A voice said behind you. You turned around and really? Why did you have to see Niall everywhere you went? This week only you had ran into him at the library, the coffee shop, the pharmacy and now the grocery store.

"I could ask you the same thing," you replied and Niall laughed as if you just said the funniest thing. 

"Maybe I am, you'll never know."

"If you're trying to charm your way into my pants you can stop now it's never gonna work."

Niall took a step closer, you were toes to toes and you could feel the warmth his body was radiating. He licked his lips slowly and your eyes involuntarily followed the movement. Niall smirked and you knew you had been caught.

"Are you sure about that?" Niall asked, his breath hitting your face and it took you all your willpower to not kiss him. "Seems like you want me as much as I want you but if you really want me to stop, if it's really what you want then I will. Have a good day Y/N, I'll see you around, maybe" said Niall before turning away and leaving the store.

*

Days went by and it's like Niall had disappeared. Sometimes you would walk past the park and see his friends playing footie and you would catch yourself stopping to see if Niall was there but he never was. You had no idea where he was but it's not like you were going to ask his friends. You hated him, you reminded yourself before walking away. You knew you should have been happy, that's exactly what you wanted. 

Your phone dinged bringing you back to earth. You reached for your phone and saw it was your friend Sam who has texted you.

"Get your bikini ready, pool party at Gavin's I'm coming to get you."

You sent a reply back saying you'd be ready and got out of bed. You did not really feel like partying and wish you would have said no but Gavin was one of Niall's good friends and a part of you was hoping to see him. What was wrong with you? You hated him, you had always hated Niall, yet here you were getting ready anyway. 

You put on your favourite yellow bikini and slipped on a black dress. You grabbed your purse on the hook behind your door and went outside to wait for your friend.

*

As soon as you walked in Gavin's backyard you knew Niall was there. There was a circle of girls around him laughing at whatever he was saying and you felt something bubble in your stomach. Jealousy supplied your brain and you needed a drink because you were not jealous of these girls. You were not, you hated that guy you reminded yourself. You walked inside and got a beer from the kitchen, some friends you hadn't seen in a long time were there and you chatted with them for a while. You were sitting on the kitchen counter, nursing your beer for over an hour when Sam walked in and replaced it with a fresh cold beer.

"You should go talk to him instead of glaring from afar."

"I'm not!"

"Believe me you are," replied Sam, laughing.

You jumped down the counter, ignoring Sam shouting your name, to go outside to enjoy the sun. It was a beautiful day and you were at a pool party, you were not going to sit inside and hide just because Niall was there. You put down your beer on a table nearby and removed your dress before folding it nicely and putting it next to your beer. You jumped into the pool, letting the water cool you down. You swam around for a while until you found a pool noodle and you let yourself float, enjoying the warm sun on your body. Your eyes were closed so you didn't notice Niall running toward the pool and jumping right beside you. You startled when water hit you in the face and you opened your eyes to glare at whoever had done this.

Niall. Of course it was him. 

"Y/N, long time no see!"

"It's been eight days Horan."

"Been counting them I see," Niall laughed, his eyes crinkling because of the sun, and you regretted the words that lefted your mouth immediately. 

Niall swam closer to you and leaned against the side of your noodle making you lose your balance and go underwater. Niall splashed you and you dunked him under the water. He came out laughing and started swimming on the other side of the pool.

"Catch me if you can," he shouted over his shoulder as he pushed himself up with his forearms to get out of the pool. His biceps were bulging and water droplets were running down his body. He looked delicious and you wanted to chase the water with your tongue, his tan skin glistening under the sun. You swam to the pool ladder and started running after him. You had no idea why you were chasing him, you knew this was exactly what he wanted. Niall disappeared through the backyard door and you followed the wet traces his feet lefted on the floor through the house. 

A door closed on your left, you turned the handle and pushed the door open only to be met with a screaming girl you didn't know. Oops. 

"Sorry," you muttered and closed the door. Niall laughed and your turned around to see him take the direction of the bedrooms. This was a bad idea, you knew if you followed him there you might not resist him any longer.

"Searching for me?" Niall asked, a cocky smirk playing on his lips.

"Yes," you replied as you walked closer to him and pushed him in the bedroom and closed the door behind you, "I've had enough of your little games," you said pretending you still had an ounce of power and control over the situation when you and Niall knew he had won. 

Niall chuckled and pushed your back against the closed door, his arms on each side of your head.

"Oh really? Could have sworn you were the one chasing me," he said his lips mere millimeters away from yours, his hot breath was hitting your face. His eyes searched for yours and you nodded slightly.

Niall closed the gap between your mouths and you kissed him back immediately. Consequences be damned you wanted him and you were tired of denying it. His tongue was warm against yours and you moaned low in your throat. Your body arched against his and you hooked up your leg on his hip, trying to get some friction against your core. Niall moved his hands from the wall, putting one on your hip and the other under your thighs, holding it in place as he rut against you. He groaned and you had never heard anything hotter than that. Your head fell back against the wall in a loud thud, leaving your throat exposed. Niall kissed his way down your neck, sucking on the skin under your ear.  

His hand moved from your hip to your side, sending shivers all over your body. When he reached your breasts Niall pushed away the fabric of your bikini top exposing your breasts to the cold air in the room. You shivered and Niall palmed your left breast gently before leaning in to take your nipple between his lips, making you whimper low in your throat. Your pussy throbbed between your legs, it had been too long since someone had touched you like that. 

"Fuck babe, I knew you'd look gorgeous like that," whispered Niall as he moved his hand down your side, his fingers slowly trailing on your skin, making you shiver again. His fingers were calloused and felt amazing.  

"Wanna know how you'd look even more gorgeous?" Niall asked, his mouth moving on your neck.

"H-how?" You stuttered. 

"On your knees with your lips wrapped ar-"

You didn't even let Niall finish his sentence before you dropped onto your knees, tugging on his swimming short hastily. His cock sprang free, hard and red. Precum was already leaking at the tip and your mouth watered. You flicked your tongue at it to taste him and closed your eyes. 

"Fuck! Someone's eager," laughed Niall and you glared at him from under your eyelashes. 

"Shut up," you said before taking Niall's length into your hand and pumping it a few times and spreading the precum with your thumb around the tip. You licked at the tip again before closing your lips around it. You bobbed your head up and down a few times to get used to the girth. Niall was bigger than anyone you ever been with and the stretch of your jaw felt so good. You pulled away and swirled  your tongue around messily. Niall slid one of his hands in your hair and grabbed a handful, not pulling yet but enough to make you feel a sting on your scalp. 

"Look at you, I didn't even have time to finish asking and you were on your knees for me," said Niall and you took him back into your mouth. Your head was bobbing up and down rapidly and you had spit dripping on your chin from the corner of your mouth.

"Think you can take me deeper, love?" Niall asked as he pushed his cock further down your throat, making you gag but you kept sucking. 

"Fuck! Look at you gagging on my cock. It's like you were made for this babe. Made for my cock, taking me so well," Niall praised. Usually Niall's words would have offended you but right now all you wanted was for him to come down your throat. His words were only making you suck harder. You didn't care, you kept gagging and Niall seemed to like the sound because everytime you gagged he groaned.

Niall tugged on your hair, pulling you away from his cock and took your chin between his fingers, he swiped your bottom lip with his thumb. 

"I knew you'd be a little freak in bed, good girls are all the same," Niall laughed. 

He took his dick in his hand, rubbing the head against your shiny lips. You opened your mouth licked at the slit, gathering precum on your tongue, waiting for him to push it in again.

"Can I fuck your mouth?" Niall asked, "Please? I really want to fuck your pretty mouth."

You nodded enthusiastically and Niall guided his cock slowly in your mouth. Your throat contracted around the head and Niall growled.

He started to fuck your mouth rapidly, talking non-stop.

"I bet you touched yourself thinking about this. How many times did you push your hands down your knickers thinking about me? Late at night, your cheeks red and panting. Maybe you used a toy, imagining it was my cock fucking you good."

You moaned around Niall's cock his words going straight to your pussy. It was aching with want. You fisted your hands on your thighs trying to wait as long as you could before touching yourself.

"I want to come all over your pretty face and tits, I'm sure you would like that. Everybody will know what we did when we go back downstairs. Your lips are so red and puffy, your hair a mess. I always knew you'd be gorgeous like that."

"Your lips feel so good babe, I'm gonna come soon," Niall said as he slowed his thrusts. You pulled away to take a deep breath and Niall chuckled. He caressed your cheek with his hand and smiled softly, too soft for the situation. 

"I can't wait to fuck you properly, in my bed. You'd look beautiful tied to my bed, letting me do whatever I want . Could spend hours teasing you until you beg me to fuck you. Would you like that?"

"Yes," you replied, your voice hoarse, not sounding like you at all, surprising yourself before taking Niall back in your mouth, using one of your hands to stroke what wasn't in your mouth. You hollow your cheeks and sucked harder.

"Touch yourself for me pet, c'mon I know you want to. I want to see you touch yourself."

Sliding your hand between your legs you lightly touched yourself over your swimsuit before pushing it to the side and pushing two fingers between your wet folds. You were so wet you could feel yourself drip on your fingers. You moaned loudly when you brushed the tip of your fingers against your aching clit. It was throbbing and you knew you would not last long. You moved your fingers lower, pushing them inside of you easily. 

"Fuck babe, you look so hot like that. I'm gonna come," warned Niall before he spilled down your throat. You kept sucking lightly until he stopped coming and started to soften in your mouth. You swallowed all you could but when you pulled away some of Niall's come driped down your chin. You let yourself fall back against the door and pushed your legs open giving you more room and started pumping your fingers hard and fast. Your head was thrown back against the door and you were moaning steadily. 

Niall let himself fall on the floor next to you and opened his legs wide, "C'mere babe," he said, helping you to move between his legs. Your back pressed against his chest. One of his hands moved to your exposed breast, palming it gently, rolling you nipples between his fingers. Your head fell on his shoulder, exposing your neck. Immediately Niall started to kiss it while his other hand was sliding down your body until it reached your pussy.  His fingers grazed over your clit making your whole body convulse. Niall chuckled in your ear and pushed two fingers inside of you, your walls clenched around his fingers when Niall started moving them in and out in a slow and torturing pace. 

"Niall, Niall fuck, please fuck."

"What is it babe, what do you need?"

"I need to come," you moaned and Niall pressed the pad of his thumb against your clit. 

A long cry escaped your throat, "fu-uuck!"

Niall sped up the pace of his fingers, hitting your g-spot every time.

"C'mon babe, come on my fingers."

A familiar warmth spread in your stomach, your breath was ragged and you would not last long. Niall pressed hard on your clit again and you clenched on his fingers again your orgasm hitting you full force, your legs thrashing and hips bucking uncontrollably. Niall kept his fingers moving until you pushed his hand away. He laughed and you watched him wipe them on his swimming shorts. 

You stayed between Niall's legs for a moment, trying to catch your breath, your head on his shoulder, your nose pressed to the side of his neck. You just had sex with Niall Horan, the only thing you always said you would never let happen. You needed to leave. You tried to get up on your feet but Niall tightened his arms around your waist, keeping you between his legs. Niall was drawing circles on your stomach and you shivered. 

"M'tired," he mumbled.

"We need to go back to the party, our friend will search for us."

"Don't care."

Niall moved first, awkwardly sliding his leg behind your back to get in his feet. He put his swimming shorts back on and extended his arm to help you up. You tucked your boobs into your bikin top, suddenly feeling weird being half naked in front of him. 

You turned to open the door but Niall stopped you, boxing you against the door like he had done earlier. 

"How about we do that again sometimes?" Niall said, taking a step closer, your bodies millimeters away, "Next time I want you to come on my dick," he pressed a kiss on your neck, "or maybe on my face," he added, his lips moving against the shell of your ear. You bit your lips and nodded. 

It was a bad idea, the worst idea you could ever agree to and you knew it. Maybe you would regret it but right now you didn't care.

#Niall Horan #Niall Horan fic #Niall Horan fanfiction #Niall Horan x You #Niall Horan x reader #Niall Horan fluff #Niall Horan smut #Niall fic #Niall fanfiction #Niall x You #Niall x Reader #Niall fluff #Niall smut #my writing

[whumpsideblog]

Part One//Part Two//Part Three//Part Four//Part five

Wow! I haven’t written shit for these princes in a loooong time now. I’m hoping this is good but I’m not used to writing sickfics and honestly I might stay away from it in the future haha. Thank you so much for all the messages I’ve gotten between the last part and this one, and I’m really sorry it’s taken so long!

***

As a child, Alessander got sick often. There wasn’t much of a reason for it, it just happened, and he remembered a lot of days spent in bed, being waited on for everything he could possibly need until he was better.  It had been a long time since he’d last caught a cold and unfortunately, this one hit him hard.

He felt exhausted the whole day, he felt heavy and found that moving was a strain on his whole body. His vision was constantly fading in and out, and sometimes the room around him seemed to warp and twist, disorienting him greatly. He was sick to his stomach, he felt suffocatingly hot yet he was shivering, and he wanted nothing more than to lay down.

He tried to push through it at first. He sat quietly at his prince’s feet and he did his best not to cause trouble. It was around noon when he finally voiced his discomfort, hesitantly reaching up and grasping Devlyn’s hand weakly.

 “Prince Devlyn…?” He murmured.

 “What is it, less?” The prince asked, looking down to him.

 “I… I don’t feel well… do you think I can go rest…?” He asked tiredly.

 “You don’t feel well?” The prince frowned. “You will be fine, I don’t wish to hear your complaints.” He told him, brushing him off completely.

 “But… please, I-“

 “I said you’re fine.” He said sternly. “You don’t want me to force you outside again, do you?” He asked, and Alessander quickly shook his head.

 “N-no… I’m sorry, my prince…” he said softly, looking to the floor. He’d just have to push through the rest of the day, surely he could do that much.

***

 At this point it seemed like the prince was punishing him just for complaining. Typically, he kept Alessander at his side, he didn’t ask him for much, just sit quiet and still. After his complaints though he seemed to want to try something different.

 First he was sent to retrieve something from the prince’s room. A simple enough task but even after all this time his ankles were still healing, every step hurt and that was on top of how nauseous he already felt. He returned with the item and before he could even think of sitting the prince told him to fetch a book from the library. He kept this up for some time, the library, back to the bedroom, out to the courtyard, back upstairs. His feet and legs hurt, he never walked this much in a day, much less while feeling feverish and disoriented.

 He had dropped to his knees, praying this would be the end of it, but the prince wasn’t done.

 “Oh, Less could you fetch me a drink love?” He asked absentmindedly, though he seemed to smile when Alessander’s face fell, he looked ready to cry as he slowly got back to his feet. He felt weak as he made his way to the kitchens, he poured the prince a drink with shaking hands and tried to make his way back. He’d barely made it back down the hall though, the hallway was warping, twisting in front of him, and before he knew it his legs gave out.

 The glass shattered as he dropped it, and though collapsing was painful as his head hit the hard floor, he barely even noticed. In fact, it felt more like relief than anything, his face pressed against the cool floor. He found his eyelids heavy, he was so very tired. He’d rest, just for a few moments, he told himself...

***

 A servant found him sometime later, and the prince was quickly alerted. Alessander was taken up to the prince’s room and laid in bed, left to suffer alone and out of the prince’s way. He woke up hours later, hot and feverish as he quickly kicked the blankets away from him. He felt gross in general, his throat was beginning to hurt and he was covered in sweat, his clothes and hair sticking to him uncomfortably.

 When the bedroom door opened he hardly reacted, Something was placed on the bedside table and then there was a weight pressing down next to him. He wearily opened his eyes, looking to the man next to him. His eyes widened at what he saw, at seeing his closest friend next to him once again.

 “How do you feel?” Taryn asked, gently placing a hand against his forehead. Alessander started to answer, but instead hastily sat up, throwing his arms around him.

 “Oh god…” he murmured, pressing his face into his chest. It was comforting, the first true comfort he’d had in some time. “I’ve missed you… I thought you were dead…” his voice was hoarse as he spoke, he didn’t care though, he just wanted to speak to Taryn, it’s all he’d been dreaming about. “Don’t scare me like that again… please…” he hated how his voice cracked and he had to blink away tears, but he knew Taryn wouldn’t mind.

 “What are you rambling about, Less?” The coldness of his tone made him let go, pulling back to look up at him. As his vision cleared he realized it had been nothing more than a feverish hallucination. The prince was staring back at him, quite clearly irritated.

 “I… I’m sorry my prince… I just… I thought you were…”

 “You mistook me for that dog of yours, hm? I’m almost insulted.” The prince sighed, grabbing Alessander’s shoulders and forcibly laying him back against the many propped up pillows. “Your fever is much too high if you’re having such wild visions. I didn’t think you were so fragile a simple fever would put you down like this. You’re very troublesome sometimes.”

 “I’m sorry… I’m… happy to see you, Prince Devlyn…” he smiled weakly at him, despite the tears he was blinking away, reaching for his hand, only for the prince to bat it away.

 “You’re a bad liar, love. I’ll allow it to slide this time though, you are sick after all.” He leaned forward to brush his hair off his face, before reaching for the bedside table where he’d left a glass of water. Even though Alessander could’ve held it on his own the prince held it to his lips for him, he was even careful enough to be sure that he didn’t choke. Alessander gratefully downed the whole glass, thanking the prince once he was done.

 “I’m sorry for collapsing like I did… I’m sorry I’m trouble…” he sighed as the prince brought the blankets up around him.

 “We can tend to that later, for now you should just rest.” The prince stood up, telling him he’d return shortly before leaving the room. The prince was being kind, merciful even, and while Alessander was deeply grateful he knew there would be a price to pay later. For now though, he would enjoy any comfort offered to him.

***

 He’d stayed in bed the rest of the day, and as usual he went to bed when the prince did. Despite the blankets over them Alessander found it hard to sleep, occasionally drifting off only to wake up freezing, so cold it almost hurt. He tried hugging himself and curling up to keep warm but eventually he gave up, moving closer to the sleeping prince in hopes he’d spare some of his body heat.

 He was still shaking and shivering and much to his dismay, his attempt to lay so close to him woke Devlyn up, he couldn’t handle the prince’s anger right now, he couldn’t handle a punishment or scolding. He just wanted to go back to sleep.

 “What are you doing, Less…?” The prince asked tiredly, sitting up to look down at him.

 “ ‘m fine… just cold…” he murmured, hugging himself and avoiding the prince’s gaze. Devlyn reaches down, gently placing his hand on Alessander’s cheek, and he couldn’t help but lean into his warm touch, thankful for any relief.

 “You’re burning up still…” he frowned. He laid back down and pulled the blankets over them, before pulling Alessander into his arms, his back pressed against his chest. Alessander was tense at first, he wasn’t used to sleeping like this, much less with the prince holding him this way. After some time though, he did start to relax, and this position was rather warm. He quickly found himself relaxing, even falling asleep.

 Despite this though, he desperately wished it was Taryn holding him instead.

#whump #my writing #my oc's #Alessander #Devlyn #Taryn is mentioned #royalty whump #sick whump #or #I tried to write a sickfic #fever whump #collapsing #reluctant caretaker #fever hallucinations #please show up in the tag #i feel like this isn't as good as it should be #given how long it took

[annachronistic]

Smoke Stalked

 29 May, 1832

It was around 7 o'clock in the morning when the residents of 187 Rue de Normandy noticed that something was off.  At this time of day, one would typically hear birds tweeting and fluttering in the trees.   But in this case Bossuet, Joly, and Musichetta were hearing faint noises that may or may not have been words.  They could not discern from where they were originated.

"I think our house is haunted," Bossuet said, followed again by the strange unintelligible sound.  "Why must you ghosts have to be early risers?"

"Perhaps it is just a cat outside?" Joly said.

"Or a cat's ghost?" Musichetta said, her voice hoarse, for she had contracted a cold recently.  She was a very easygoing woman though, not one to complain of illnesses.

"Then I guess it would be a purr-tergeist," Bossuet joked.

"Our neighbor's house has been abandoned for years.  I might go over there to see how many cats have inhabited that place and are holding séances," Musichetta said and then sneezed.

"Are you sure you want to go outside this early?  I'm afraid you've caught a cold," said Joly.

"I'm fine," Musichetta said.  "I was probably going to get up soon anyway."

"Alright, then.  I'll light a fire and make some tea," Joly said.

Joly went into the living room where the fireplace was.  Upon getting closer, the faint cries became more discernible: a frightened tenor voice saying "Help!  Help!".  Joly exchanged confused glances with Musichetta, confirming that she had indeed heard what he had just heard.

"Did someone say something?" Joly asked, making sure he was not going crazy.

"Yes," the voice replied.

"I don't see you.  Where are you?"

"In the chimney," said the voice.

At the word "chimney", Bossuet just held his face in his palm and shook his head in a way a parent might do to a stupid teenager.  Joly, more concerned, rushed towards the chimney.  It was fortunate that Joly did not actually light a fire in the fireplace.  How someone would wind up in a chimney was beyond him, but Joly did not have the time nor think it was appropriate to ask how this person got there.

"How long have you been there?" Joly asked what he thought was a more relevant question.  Nevertheless, this person managed to divulge his entire backstory.

"I have been here since after midnight.  I came for my future wife Cosette.  However, her father is quite wary of me and doesn't want her seeing me, so I decided to enter the house in a more discreet manner.  This is the address that a girl told me where she lived.  Thank God someone is actually in this house; I've been waiting for hours.  You must be the servant," the voice said, muffled from the wall of bricks.

"I am no servant," replied Joly, recognizing him as someone who apparently wanted a mistress really badly.

"Whoever you may be, please do not tell Cosette's father that I am in here."

"I do not even know who Cosette is, so I assure you that will not happen. Whoever you are, we will get you out as soon as possible, rest assured.  Inhaling that much chimney soot cannot be good for the lungs. You sound vaguely familiar though.  Would you mind identifying yourself?"

"That is of no importance now," the voice replied curtly.

Joly and Musichetta were rightfully confused while Bossuet was failing to keep a straight face, for he knew with certainty to whom the voice belonged.

"I believe you have the wrong address, Marius!" Bossuet said loudly, positively identifying the mysterious voice from the chimney.

"Oh shit!  Is that you, Lesgles?" the man confirmed to be Marius said.  "Please, Bossuet, do not tell anyone about this."

"I live here with two other people, so they already know now," Bossuet said.

"I'm Musichetta," Bossuet's and Joly's mistress introduced herself.

"And I'm Joly.  We've met before a few times."

"Oh, Joly.  Now I remember you," Marius recalled.  "You're the short one with the horrid laugh."

"I can't believe that's the thing that people remember about me," Joly smiled.

"Yes, that is one of the more distinctive things about you, Jolllly," Musichetta said and kissed him.

"Well I guess the three of us can pull you out.  Then you'll be kissing this Cosette in no time," Bossuet said.

"Are you sure you can?  I am stuck in the flue," Marius said.

"Oh no, he has the flu!" Joly said, concerned, possibly mishearing what Marius had said.

"I mean flue as in the flue of a chimney, not flu as in influenza," Marius corrected.

"You should seek medical treatment as soon as you get out of here, as influenza combined with smoke inhalation could turn into pneumonia," Joly said, completely ignoring the homophone that Marius had pointed out.

"He's just worried about illnesses as of late because I've caught a little cold," Musichetta explained.  Musichetta crawled into the fireplace and spied a foot just below the smoke shelf of the chimney.  She examined the width of the distance between the smoke shelf and the lower part of the chimney.

"I could pull your ankle down, but that would make you even more stuck, as the throat of the chimney is far too narrow for you to fit through.  You're so close, yet so far," she said.

"I must say, the chimney looked rather large from the outside, yet I am completely stuck now.  I guess this means I'm fat," Marius complained.

"You're not fat," Bossuet assured him.  "Only small children can fit through chimneys."

"If that is true, then I could have gotten a chimney sweeper boy to enter Cosette's house via the chimney and then unlock the door for me."

The trio outside the chimney cringed at Marius' alternative 'plan'.

"Then you would get caught and the servant would be blamed for letting strangers break in and get fired after the fact," Musichetta added.

"Shit, I don't want that to happen," said Marius.  "By the way, I am sorry for mistaking you for a servant, Joly."

"That is okay, Marius.  I initially mistook your voice for a cat."

"Really?  I hate cats.  They don't love you, and they knock things off of counters for no good reason.  Such spiteful creatures."

"You're kicked out of les amis de l'abaisse," Joly said.

"But I am not even in that group," Marius pointed out.

"Well congratulations, monsieur Pontmercy.  You have now officially been inducted into les amis de l'abaisse," Joly declared.

"Thanks, Joly?" the Bonapartist was unsure of how to take up that offer.

"Now you're kicked out," said Joly.

"Drat," said Marius.

"That was the most genius yet petty maneuvers ever," Musichetta said to Joly, impressed, before she blew her nose into a handkerchief.

"It was related to a discussion about cats, so I guess it was pet-ty."  Joly and Musichetta laughed and shared another kiss.  "But as minute as our differences are, he cannot remain in that chimney much longer!"

"I have an idea!" Bossuet declared.

"Do you know the book Rapunzel, where the titular character lets down her hair so that the prince can climb up the castle?  Well just like Rapunzel, we can get on the roof and throw something down the chimney and pull you up.  But instead of using hair, we'll use a long rope that we have for drawing water out of the well."

"Splendid idea," said Joly.  "It will be as if we're fishing and our goal is to catch a Marius fish."

Bossuet, Joly, and Musichetta climbed up the tree adjacent to their house in order to access the rooftop.  Bossuet cast the rope down the chimney whose length was more than long enough to reach the bottom.  As Joly and Musichetta peered down the chimney to see if they could spot Marius (they couldn't; it was too dark), Joly noticed that Musichetta was barefoot.

"Why are you not wearing any shoes?  It is still early in the morning and rather cold," Joly said.

"Pinet heels are uncomfortable and difficult to climb a tree with, so I took off my shoes," Musichetta explained.

"I do not want your cold to get worse.  Here, you can take mine," Joly offered.

"Why thank you, ma chéri," Musichetta said and kissed Joly.

"The rope is down there now, Marius.  Did you find it yet?" Bossuet asked, practically having to yell down the chimney to communicate with Marius, as he was quite a distance away.

"I cannot see anything at all!" Marius replied.

"Then feel around for it," Joly advised.  The rope that Bossuet was holding onto stirred a bit.

"I got it!" said Marius.  Musichetta and Joly got behind Bossuet and joined him in pulling the rope.  They walked backwards, rope in their hands, and came to a dead stop.  The three of them pulled in sync to maximize their effort in dislodging Marius from the flue.  The rope stretched slightly, but alas, they were getting nowhere.  They were at it for fifteen minutes, and all efforts they made in pulling him up were futile.  The only displacements in the rope came from Marius losing his grip.

"Ugh, my hands hurt and I am really hot," Marius complained.

"Can you tie the rope around your arm instead?" Bossuet asked.

"Do you have a fever?" Joly asked.

"No and no," Marius responded.

"This isn't working," said Musichetta.  "We might need to contact the police to rescue him."

"Please, no!" Marius begged.  "I do not want to get the police involved because what I did was technically illegal.  Police and prosecutors will look for any reason to press charges on a citizen.  I know this because I am studying to be a defense attorney.  In addition, if I go to jail then I cannot see Cosette.  She could forget about me or think that I'm a con and not like me anymore."

"Okay, we'll find someone else who can help who is not a police officer," Musichetta assured him.

"Grantaire is the nearest person we know of.  He is rather creative and might have a chance at solving this," said Joly.

"Let's pray that he is not drunk and in a coma right now," said Bossuet.

"Oh I'm sure he'll be happy to see you," Joly laughed.

"Why do I have to get him?" Bossuet asked.

"Because you are much faster than Musichetta or myself," Joly said.

"But I am exceptionally bad at navigation.  The place could be right around the corner and I'll be 45 minutes late."

"The directions to his house from here are so simple that no one could falter them.  It is ten minutes away at most.  You'll head west on—"

"You cannot just give me compass directions like I am Lewis and Clark, Jolllly," Bossuet laughed.  "I've no idea where the hell west is."

"West is that way," Joly said, pointing west.

"You always know where the compass directions are because because of your interest in the Earth's magnetic field," Bossuet remarked.

"Go west, turn left at the end of the block, then turn right at the end of the following block.  Grantaire's house will be the third one on the right"

"Go west, turn left, turn right" Bossuet repeated to himself.  "I'll hurry and be back soon."  Bossuet then proceeded to jump directly from the roof to the pavement and head west at a jog's pace.

"That hurt my knees just watching you do that," Joly cringed.  "We'll see you and Grantaire in twenty minutes!"

After Bossuet had disappeared, Joly got off the roof by climbing back down the tree, while Musichetta took Bossuet's expedited method of jumping off the roof that Joly was not really a fan of.  The two then tasked themselves with keeping Marius company in the meantime.

"So who is this Cosette you were planning to meet?" Musichetta asked Marius out of curiosity.

"A stunningly beautiful bourgeoise girl who I hope to be my wife someday. She's slender and pale with curly brown hair and vivid blue eyes.  I have spoken to her only a few times, but it feels as if I've known her for years.  I am awestruck by how intelligent and kind-hearted she is.   She is also a fun girl: interested in fashion wants to be a musician.   Did I mention she's gorgeous?"

"Well you won't look so gorgeous unless you change out those ashy chimney clothes of yours," Joly joked.

"Ugh, this is all Éponine's fault," Marius spat.  "That dumb gamine wrote down the wrong address."

"But even if you went to the right address, you would still get stuck in the chimney," Joly pointed out.

"Fair enough," Marius said.

"Perhaps she gave you the wrong address on purpose?" Musichetta suggested.

"I think not," said Marius.  "Éponine is dim and illiterate; it is probably just pure incompetence on her part.  I do not know why I trusted her with favors like this.  She looks like someone who would murder you in your sleep."

"Grantaire looks like someone who would murder you in broad daylight, yet he is one of the most insightful people I know," Joly pointed out.

"You ought not to make assumptions about a woman based on what she looks like," Musichetta said before sneezing into her handkerchief.  "If she were actually illiterate, she wouldn't be able to just make up the word 'Normandy'."

"Shit, you're right.  She can read.  That is even worse!  That bitch intentionally mislead me, and for what damned reason?!" Marius was growing angry.

"I'm guessing she is being passive-aggressive," said Musichetta.  "Perhaps she wants you to be a man and talk to Cosette's father yourself.  Or just to be patient and wait until she moves out of her father's house."

"It'll be okay, Marius," Joly tried to de-escalate the situation.  "Chetta has been out of her parents' house since she was twenty.  Now she is planning to be married this August.  I am very sure that things will go well for you in the future."

"That is all fine, but you must note that she is of a very wealthy family, possibly a millionaire, which means that she probably will not leave her parents' house until she is married.  Now that I think about it, I should have known that this place was not her house," said Marius.

"Are you calling us impecunious, consul Gaius Marius?" Joly said dramatically, trying to be funny.

"That is not what I meant to convey!" Marius said, and if his face wasn't already red from the heat of the chimney, he would have blushed.

"Once you see Cosette, will you ever tell her the story about this...incident?" Musichetta asked.

"Absolutely not," said Marius.

"On your tenth wedding anniversary?

"There is no way."

"On your twentieth anniversary?

"Never."

"Your 500th anniversary?"

"Perhaps.  Hopefully I'll be dead by then."

"Shit, it'll probably be your 500th anniversary before Bossuet and Grantaire get here.  What is taking them so long?" Joly wondered.

"I don't know," said Musichetta.  "Hopefully they'll be here soon."

__________________________________________________________________

  one hour and forty-five minutes later

While Rue de Normandy had been quite an uneventful location for the past few hours, that was going to change soon.  Approaching in the distance were two tall men, each carrying one axe in each hand.  Joly and Musichetta greeted them with much anticipation.

"Where on Earth have you been?" Musichetta asked.

"I got lost," Bossuet sighed.

"And it took a while for me to find these axes," Grantaire said.

"Axes, you say?  I believe I already know where this is going," Joly smirked as Grantaire handed him an axe.

"Yes indeed.  The outside of your house will soon become a demolition site. The landlord is going to hate you, but this is the only way to free Marius from that blasted chimney."

The four of them approached the chimney, axes in hand.  It looked old but well-built, like it might take a few hours to destroy.

"All the houses in this neighborhood are rather subpar," said Grantaire.   "This shit was probably built in the 1600s.  The mortar between the bricks is made of lime so it is quite flimsy.  Come on and give it a try."

Musichetta took a swing of the axe and aimed for the mortar.  It crumbled a bit, leaving a space from where the bricks were wedged together.  Bossuet and Joly went at it as well, warning Marius when the axes were being swung so as not to frighten him.  Grantaire was to join in on the demolition, but not before he annihilated Marius first, for Bossuet had told Grantaire all about Marius breaking into the wrong house via chimney in a failed scheme to meet his lover.

"I really thought you were smart, Marius," Grantaire chuckled.  "You know all these languages, yet you are stupid enough to climb through a chimney as a grown adult and possibly get lit on fire for a girl you have only met a few times."

"I am not stupid, I am crazy," Marius stated plainly.

"Where did you get this idea from?  Saint Nicholas?"

"Yes," Marius whined.  "Ah!"

Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!  The blows from the axes felt like they were getting closer to Marius. After a while, Bossuet was able to damage the mortar enough to remove a few bricks from the chimney.  Now part of Marius' back was visible.   Joly swung his axe below the damaged bricks repeatedly.

"Damn, this thing is well-built!" he said.

"But contrary to saint Nicholas, your scheme is very illegal and very unsettling," Grantaire continued his conversation with Marius.  "But you're handsome, so you get away with it.  If someone ugly like me tried to contact Cosette like you did, she would call the police, no question!" Grantaire swung the axe a bit harder than he had previously.

"I suppose that is a double standard," Marius admitted.  "I can see how unsettling I might look to others.  It would be a lot easier, however, if I could understand women.  Then I might know Éponine's reason for giving me the wrong address."

"You mead something like bind reading?" Musichetta asked.  "That would be a useful power in many scenarios."

"Oh please," said Grantaire.  "If it were possible to read minds, Joly would be in a mental hospital, I would be in prison, and Marius would be in a mental hospital and prison."

"That is fairly ironic coming from someone who has four axes just laying about in their apartment," Marius countered.

"You got me there, Marius," Grantaire laughed.

~~

The demolition of the chimney took all of two hours to complete.   Grantaire, Joly, Bossuet, and Musichetta were rightfully tired after the fact (initially, Joly thought that he hadn't the endurance to even complete this task).  Marius emerged sweating, covered in ash and coughing, his voice shot from inhaling chimney soot and yelling to communicate through the brick walls.  Joly promptly offered him some water.

"My spying-on-Cosette outfit is ruined!" Marius whined.  "I look like a miner."

"If this outfit is for spying, then she isn't supposed to see you, so it wouldn't matter what the outfit looked like," Musichetta pointed out.

"You should be a lawyer," Marius said.

"Yes, and testify against our landlord," Bossuet added.  "He is probably going to kill us if he finds out what we did."

"We'll worry about fixing the chimney later," said Joly.  "The good thing is that we are all safe.  Granted, we all looked like idiots, but we are okay nonetheless."

"And how," said Marius.  "You had to destroy the chimney to get me out.  I hate this.  It makes me seem fat."

"No, you're not even close to being fat.  I actually am fat," said Grantaire.

"Plus, if you use English pounds to measure your weight, then everyone seems fat!" Joly said.  "A pound is a little less than half of a kilogram, so using English units makes it look like you weigh about twice as much.   I'm 102 by the way."

"Damn, king Henry VIII!" Grantaire quipped.

"So the English have a complicated language and a strange measurement system," Marius rolled his eyes.

"Now that you're out, how many women do we have to free who are chained up in your basement?" Grantaire joked.

"None.  I don't have a basement."

"That was the wrong answer," Grantaire laughed.

"I must say, this is not one of my proudest moments," said Marius.  "This is even worse than the handkerchief incident."

"Wait, when was that?" Bossuet prompted.

"I've said too much!" Marius panicked, embarrassed.

"Oh no.  It looks like Pontmercy has another story that is in dire need of context," Joly said in a singsong voice and laughed his strange-sounding laugh.

"Honestly, I am done," Marius said, his face held in his palm.  "I swear, I will walk into those woods and I will never come out."

#les miserables #fanfiction #fanfic #marius #joly #bossuet #musichetta #bini #comedy #also on ao3

[thatoneloser-kid]

I have an idea about Joel comforting Ellie after she reveals she's struggling with addiction to pills, she took them as pain relief whilst Joel was ill in winter then she wanted more over time and gave into it. After the whole David thing when Joel is better she decided to stay away from them but she ends up giving in one night. She breaks down and Joel helps her overcome it. Maybe based before the end or shortly after the end of the first game?

This was a good prompts, thank you! I hope it’s okay, I had to do some research, I’ve never gone through drug withdrawal, nor have I been around anyone who has.

Ellie first took the painkillers after the big fight in the mall.

She was sitting beside Joel, needle in hand, her entire body aching, and she just couldn’t stop herself from shaking.

Then she remembered back at the fire-flies, when Marlene was about to fix Josh up, she took a few painkillers, so she popped a few of them and fixed Joel up.

There was something in the way the painkillers just rushed through Ellie’s blood, seemingly eliminating any and all pain in her muscles and bones.

She said it would be a one time thing, then she started to ache again, and she tried not to take any more, but she figured that taking them until she stopped hurting would be okay.

Then she went through the whole thing with David, and that didn’t just hurt her physically but fucked her up mentally.

So she took the pills, for the for the pain of David, she told herself.

But the pain faded, Joel got better, and winter bled into spring, but Ellie just couldn’t stop.

She knew there was something up, the way she felt like she had to hide any pills she found, that told her there was something wrong with what was happening.

Ellie spent her days high on whatever pills she could find and she knew Joel could see the difference in her, but he put it down to the trauma of David, of killer that amount of men, of going through everything she had been through.

Ellie was thankful for that.

They got to The Dam in late spring, and Ellie had a stash of pills that would last her a few weeks but she didn’t know what she would do after that.

She made her way through the pills, panic rising in her when she took the final two she had, but she figured it would be fine, she wasn’t addicted or anything, she could stop if she wanted.

She realised pretty quickly that that was not the case.

Come day twelve hours without the pills Ellie couldn’t stop herself from shaking, all she could think about was the pills, she was having cold flushed, her head was aching. She needed those pills.

On the second day she decided to use her friendship with Dina, the youngest worker in the clinic, to get pills.

She didn’t ask, there was no way Dina would have just given her some, so she visited Dina with lunch.

Dina looked confused, which was fair, Ellie had been nothing but closed off with her, not really accepting the friendship the girl was offering, but she smiled after a few seconds.

That was the first time of many that Ellie felt like scum.

Dina ushered her into the clinic, allowing her to sit down beside her as she organised the pills into groups of fifty before recording it in a book.

“You okay?” She asked after a little while, glancing down at Ellie’s hands as she pressed her thumb into her sweaty palm.

“Hm? Yes, yeah, I’m good. Totally fine.”

“If you say so,” Dina laughed, and Ellie just stared at the pills on the table, feeling like there was something crawling under her skin, making her scratch the back of her neck.

Dina got distracted about ten minutes into Ellie being there, going to show one of the older residents how to administer their insulin.

Ellie would have been impressed that the fourteen year old knew so much about medicine if she hadn’t been entirely focused on swiping a handful of around fifteen pills off the table.

“I’m telling you, I’ve told that man how to-“ Dina trailed off when she noticed Ellie get up. “You’re leaving?”

“Yes, yeah. Sorry, Joel didn’t want me away long.”

“Oh, okay,” Dina looked disappointed. “I’ll see you later?”

“Sure. Sure, yeah.”

That became a pretty constant thing, going to visit Dina and stealing from the one person in this complex bar Tommy that had given her a chance and was actually trying with her.

The stealing went on for six months, and Ellie knew she had a problem but she was willing to ignore it, she wasn’t really hurting anyone.

She couldn’t ignore it when she was so high that she almost got Dina and Joel killed.

They were on a patrol, it was simple, there shouldn’t have been any issues. Ellie should have noticed the men coming up on them, she was on watch after all, but she was so spaced that she didn’t see them until she took the butt of a gun to the cheek.

Thankfully, Joel and Dina could handle it, and managed to carry her back to the compound with minimal injury.

Ellie knew then that she had a problem, one she had to address.

It was two days after the attack, two days she had spent still taking pills, still hugely ashamed, that she went to Joel.

Joel looked like he had been expecting her to come and talk to him about something big, patting the sofa beside him.

“I- uh-“ Ellie was shaking, her thumb pressing into her palm.

“Babygirl,” Joel covered her small hands with his large, callused ones. “Whatever it is, it’s okay. We’ll work through it.”

“I- I’ve done some horrible things, Joel.” Ellie avoided Joel’s eyes. “I’ve- I stole from the clinic.”

Joel obviously wasn’t expecting that, a little frown appearing on his brow. “Stealing, why?”

Ellie didn’t answered, she just dug into her pocket and pulled out a handful of pills.

“Why-“ Joel trailed off, and Ellie could see the cogs turning in his head. “No,” he breathed. “You- you’re addicted.”

It wasn’t a question, but Ellie nodded shamefully, a lump forming in her throat. “I didn’t think I was, I thought I could stop, Joel. I thought I could but it just took hold, I- I couldn’t stop, Joel.”

Ellie was crying now, and she honestly expected Joel to get up, to distance himself from her, but instead he wrapped her up in his arms, allowing her to cry against his chest.

“I got you, babygirl. I’ve got you.”

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” Ellie cried, and Joel simple rubbed her back, allowing her to get it out.

After ten minutes Ellie’s cries reduced to sniffs and hiccups.

“First you need to take the pills back to the clinic, babygirl. Give them to Dina.”

“I-I can’t.” Ellie sniffed, pulling back a little. “She will hate me.”

“She won’t,” Joel assured. “You have to do that, you have to go cold turkey on this.”

Ellie swallowed and nodded.

Dina smiled that same, big smile she always did, which made Ellie’s stomach churn in disgust.

Dina wasn’t mad, she wasn’t pissed, she didn’t even seem disappointed. She simply took the pills from Ellie, and pulling her in for a hug.

“I’m sorry I didn’t notice,” she whispered and Ellie felt like she could just break down completely at that.

The first night without the pills was fine, she sat downstairs with Joel, both reading in silence.

At the beginning of the second day she was getting restless, her muscles were aching and her head was beginning to hurt.

Dina stop by at dinner time with homemade soup, and Ellie pulled on her best smile even if she was sweating and the base of her skull was aching.

She didn’t sleep the second night, and Joel didn’t either, he held her while she shook, sweating out the drugs.

She didn’t even remember Dina coming by the second time, and she certainly  wasn’t nice to Dina the third time she came by, telling her she didn’t need her food, she needed the pills. Telling her to piss off and to stop pushing a friendship that wasn’t working.

She was convinced she was going to die at about the sixty hour mark.

She was throwing up, her stomach cramping and her body was wracked by cold shivers and hot sweats.

She hit at Joel’s chest, she cried, telling him she needed her pills back, she didn’t want to stop, not if she was going to die.

But Joel took it on the chin (one time literally) holding Ellie tight.

When Dina came by on the seventy sixth hour, the worst of it was over.

She was still craving, but the shivering had stopped, she wasn’t nauseous or throwing up, and her fever was gone.

Her head still ached, she still couldn’t sleep or sit still for long, but she was on the good side of the peak.

“Hey,” Dina held up the cake she had in her hand. “It’s blueberry.”

Ellie smiled, she loved blueberries.

“You look better,” Dina commented, taking a seat on the sofa beside Ellie.

“I feel better,” Ellie admitted, rubbing her hands together. “I’m still craving, but it isn’t as bad as yesterday.”

“Have you eaten?”

Ellie ignored the question. “I’m sorry, Dina.”

“Don’t be, what you were going through was though.”

“I was horrible to you, I broke your trust.”

“You were sick, El,” Dina placed a hand on Ellie’s leg. “I’m not going to tell you it’s okay, because it isn’t, but I forgive you.”

Ellie nodded, pressing her thumb against her palm. “Thank you, for sticking with me.”

“Us girls gotta stick together, right?” Dina nudged Ellie’s shoulder playfully.

They hung out for the rest of the night, which was nice, having a break from Joel who had refused to leave her alone.

The cravings didn’t dissipate for another day, but she finally managed to fall asleep and when she woke up her headache was gone.

She still felt exhausted, her body was aching from the constant shaking, but she felt clear headed for the first time in god knows how long.

“How you feelin’, kiddo?” Joel asked when she padded downstairs, finishing up the food he was making.

“So much better,” Ellie sat down at the table. “Dina forgave me.”

“I know,” Joel hummed, pouring Ellie some coffee. “She stopped by while you were asleep last night, we talked for a bit. She’s a good girl, that one, don’t fuck up that friendship.”

Ellie laughed softly, staring down at her mug. “Thank you, Joel.”

“We look out for each other, kiddo. I’m just sorry I didn’t notice, I just thought you were workin’ through everythin’ that happened.” Joel said, and before Ellie could speak he spoke up again. “You tell me next time somethin’ like this happens.”

“It won’t happen again,” Ellie swore. “I’m sorry that I caused you to get hurt before.”

“You did good gettin’ through this, kid, don’t beat yourself up too much.” Joel set Ellie’s good down on the table and gave her shoulder a little squeeze before kissing her head. “I have to go to work, Dina will be by at lunch.”

#ellie x dina #dina x ellie #the last of us #the last of us 2 #tlou #tlou 2

[dazaaaai]

(person from ur tumblr): CAN I JUST SAY THIS BLOG IS AWESOME :D I cant believe I found another person who likes bsd! btw Im Kunikida's wife, nice to meet you. Tell ur hus that Kunikida wants an explanation regarding the sudden disappearance of his nb XDD Aaanyways, to get to the point, I was hoping maaaybe for a prompt like: Kunikida sick w/ cold and a sweet Dazai takes care of him...?

HI THERE!! Sorry this is so late omg it’s been almost half a year but BLESS!!! It’s always good to have more people who like the Bungalow Wild Pups :D hello Mrs. Kunikida it’s a pleasure to meet you as well, I’ll be sure to tell Dazai to attend to the case of Kunikida’s missing notebook XD And yes !! You may of course, have your request! I think it’s not as fluffy and one-on-one as you wanted, but I had a lot of fun writing, so thank you for requesting and I do hope you enjoy it as much as I did typing it up!!

This Can’t End Well

⋆pairing: none that are mentioned!⋆ characters: Doppo Kunikida, Osamu Dazai, Akiko Yosano (main); Atsushi Nakajima, Junichirou Tanizaki, Kenji Miyazawa, Edogawa Ranpo, OC (secondary); Fukuzawa Yukichi, Kirako Haruno and the clerks (mentioned)⋆genre: mostly comedy, fluff near the end⋆ rating: K+⋆warnings: mentions of vomiting and other sickness symptoms⋆words: 2051→  summary: Kunikida’s definitely sick, and neither the Agency nor he himself are entirely certain what to do. Dazai, however, has a plan…

   This couldn’t end well.

    He didn’t want to admit it. It was shameful, and he had work to do! He couldn’t just slack off, couldn’t just stay at home… He had a schedule to keep to, an ideal — there was no way he could allow himself to be lazy, no way he could allow himself to act like…

    Dazai pinches his cheek, “Kunikida-kuuuun. You look awfully red.”

    Kunikida growls, “Well. Maybe if someone weren’t standing here trying to annoy me to death, my complexion would be a lot paler.”

    “I don’t think it’s just that,” Dazai hums, moving his hand from his cheek to his forehead, Kunikida doing everything in his power to keep typing and not snap Dazai’s wrist. “Kunikida-kun, I think you have a fever!”

    “Absolutely not,” Kunikida quickly swats his hand away before returning to his ever-important document. Click-clack, click-clack…

    “I think maybe Yosano-sensei should take a look at you.”

    “Absolutely not.”

   And then, to Kunikida’s horror, his body completely betrays him. His nose seizes, his lip quivers, his face scrunches up…

   He does an awful, awful thing.

   He sneezes.

   “Bless you, Kunikida-san!” Comes Atsushi’s voice from across the desk, from where the tiger boy is sitting, on the other chair.

   Kunikida swiftly wipes his nose with a hanky, returning to his typing.

   “You know,” Dazai says, leaning against his chair. “Our little photographer says that where she’s from, a single sneeze means bad luck, or very simply, ‘be patient.’ Maybe your work can wait?”

   “Nonsense! I do not procrastinate,” But his voice sounds stuffy — stuffier than usual, Kunikida’s sure Dazai would remark — and his eyes feel weary. His throat is scratchy, too…

   “Uh-oh,” Dazai coos. “I think somebody’s definitely sick.”

   “No.”

   “You really don’t look so well, Kunikida-kun.”

   “I’m fine, Dazai!”

   “You’re sick,” Dazai’s teasingly insistent, turning to his subordinate, “Atsushi-kun! Doesn’t Kunikida-kun seem sick to you?”

   Atsushi glances nervously between his two superiors — one wears an easy-going smile and the other’s glaring daggers at Atsushi, as if daring him to speak up.

   “W-well,” he begins. “Kunikida-san’s a logical man… Why would he come to work if he wasn’t feeling well?”

   “I don’t know,” Dazai hums. “Why don’t you ask him?”

   Atsushi takes one look at Kunikida, yelps, and buries his face back in his paperwork.

   “I am not sick, Dazai,” Kunikida says, with a sense of finality — he refuses to accept any prolonging of this discussion. He has work to do.

   But then…

   Coughs.

   It’s a small, tickle of sorts, within the back of his throat, at first. Then the tickle turns into scraping in his lungs, and soon enough Kunikida’s hacking up spit and bile into the palm of his hand, desperately trying to keep the contents of his stomach inside his body where they belong.

   “Kunikida-san?” It’s Junichirou this time, he’s walking by with a stack of folders and binders. The boy’s bright red eyes gaze at Kunikida with concern, “Are you alright? You don’t look too good.”

   “Tanizaki-san, I assure you, I’m in perfect health—” Kunikida says, but ends up being unable to continue as another coughing fit wracks his chest.

   Junichirou frowns, “You should go lie down in Yosano-sensei’s infirmary, if only for a bit. It’d help a lot — I can take over what you need to do for today from here, if you need me to.”

   Kunikida dismisses him with a wave of his shaky hand, “No, I insist. I have it under control.”

   He returns to his typing, only to realize upon hitting a certain point in his document, that he needs to refer and source something from a case they’d solved last year — the files to do with that are not on the hard drive belonging to the computer he’s currently working with. In fact, they haven’t been digitized yet, so they’re on a shelf against the walls of the office, a little ways away from where Kunikida’s working.

   All he has to do is get up and get the binder. Simple, right?

   Not right. He gets up and is immediately hit by a wave of dizziness so intense that both Atsushi and Junichirou shout at once, “Kunikida-san!”

   They rush to his side just as his head’s about to hit the ground and catch him, the two younger, weaker boys barely holding the man upwards, dragging him back to his seat, which he collapses in gratefully, and while breathing heavily.

   “You definitely need a break,” Junichirou puts a hand to Kunikida’s forehead, tutting when he feels the high temperature of his skin.

   “No no,” Kunikida insists, but when he sits up he again finds himself dizzy, collapsing back once more in his seat.

   “Everybody needs to rest sometime,” Atsushi says, voice soft.

   “I can rest at night, when I’m asleep…”

   “Kunikida-san,” Junichirou continues. “We’re going to take you to Yosano-sensei and see what she thinks, okay?”

   Kunikida’s face manages to pale, at least, in comparison to how red it is from his fever. “Oh no.”

   Dazai cackles maniacally, “How exciting! Gotta get treated by the scary scary doctor when you have the suds, Kunikida-kuuun…!”

   “Is he alright?” Kenji asks, poking his head out from behind Atsushi and Junichirou, who’ve been waiting outside of Yosano’s office for about half an hour.

   He was asking this question to Yosano, of course, who’d finally unlocked the door and stepped outside, seeming bemused in expression but smiling gently at Kenji, then laughing.

   “Oh he’s fine,” she replies at last. “He’s just sick.”

   “I knew it!” Dazai yells cheerily from across the floor.

   “So he really is sick?” Junichirou bites his lip, “Can you heal him?”

   Yosano shakes her head, “No. My ability only works on injuries, and is mostly intended for the life-threatening kind… It can do nothing for psychological damage, medical problems you were born with, nor, in this particular case… The common cold.”

   “He caught a cold?” Atsushi’s almost in awe. “That seems so strange. He’s always seemed so healthy and hard-working.”

   “Finally took its toll,” Yosano sighs. “It’s a sign that he needs to rest.”

   She then narrows her eyes, looking all around at the Agency members.

   “Whatever you do,” she begins, tone deadly serious and commanding. “Do not let that man leave his bed. I don’t care if he begs or pleads or cries, he will not work today.”

   “B-but,” Atsushi tries to argue. “Yosano-sensei! You know Kunikida-san is so very, u-um—!”

   “Doctor’s orders,” is Yosano’s firm reply, as she exits the Agency with her heels pattering against the marble. “Now, I’m off to get cough syrup for the patient. Do what you will to make him feel comfortable, if you feel like it — though I’m sure he’d rather you all be working in his absence.”

   The door shuts, and a silence falls upon the members of the Agency.

   “What…” Atsushi trails off. “Now?”

   “Isn’t it obvious, Atsushi-kun?” Dazai laughs, coming to put a hand on the boy’s shoulder, “We take care of Kunikida-kun until Yosano-sensei returns from the pharmacy.”

   “How do we take care of him though?” Junichirou looks at Dazai, curious. “We’re not doctors.”

   “Oh, pish-tosh! It’s just a cold, right? Everybody has home remedies for a cold! Why not throw some suggestions my way, and I’ll see what I can do for my beloved coworker!”

   “Dazai-san,” Atsushi’s surprised. “I didn’t know you cared about Kunikida-san so much.”

   Dazai puts a hand to his chest, as if he’s completely and totally offended. “Why! Atsushi-kun. I’m struck at the very idea that you thought I don’t care about him. Nothing could be further from the truth! He takes such good care of the Agency, why don’t we return the favor for a change?”

   There are slow, then enthusiastic nods amongst the younger Agency members, but Ranpo simply cackles from where he sits, sucking on a lollipop.

   “Oh yeah,” he shakes his head, eyes ever closed in amusement. “This can’t end well.”

   “Now now,” Dazai claps his hands together. “Ranpo-san, don’t be so pessimistic! So, which of you lovelies has an idea for what we could do?”

   “Well,” Kenji taps his chin. “Honey will do the trick, if he has a sore throat.”

   The brown-eyed girl sitting next to Kenji sticks out her tongue, “Honey. Yucky! I hate that stuff. I have a better idea,” she gets up off her seat, and skips off to the front door, “I’m going to go down to the café, ask Lucy if she has any maple syrup. Same effect, tastes much better!”

   Before anyone can stop her, the door is opened and shut once more.

   “Maybe something hot and warm to eat,” Atsushi turns around. “Like soup.”

   “Atsushi-kun, can you cook?”

   “M-more or less, but—”

   “Wonderful! Accompany the little princess down to the cafe and ask if you can use their kitchen and ingredients — be sure to tell them to put charges on your tab, alright?”

   “B-but!”

   “You’re the one who suggested it, not me. Now go, go go go!”

   Atsushi sighs, getting up and doing so.

   “What should we do?” Junichirou and Kenji ask in unison.

   “Hmmm,” Dazai tips his head, thinking. “You two should take care of Kunikida’s work while he’s away from his keyboard. I’m sure he’d appreciate that tons!”

   Junichirou furrows his eyebrows, “His work is really complicated, at least to me. I’m just an errand boy, Dazai-san…”

   Kenji nods in nervous agreement, “Yeah. And I still don’t know what a computer is, let alone how to use one!”

   Dazai laughs, like it’s not a problem at all. “You’re two capable boys! I’m sure you can figure out.”

   They exchange glances, then get up, bowing lightly, saying, “We’ll do our best!”

   Dazai waves them off happily, then turns to the infirmary’s door with what can only be described as a grin akin to that of the Cheshire Cat.

   So begins his fun…

   “Y-Yosano-sensei!” Kunikida splutters as the woman enters her office once more, having returned with the cough medicine she’d promised.

   “Hmm?” Yosano raises a perfectly-shaped eyebrow in confusion. “Kunikida-kun, you’re acting so scared as if I might treat you with my ability.”

   “This is worse,” he whispers. “So much worse.”

   “What happened?” Yosano rolls down one of her gloves to check her watch, “I couldn’t have been gone more than forty minutes.”

   “Dazai happened.”

   And Kunikida, with a dying voice, though Yosano insists for him to rest his throat, regales her on all the awful things that have occurred in those devastating forty minutes that Yosano was absent.

   First, Atsushi and his little friend come back up into the Agency, one with a pot of hot soup, and the other with a big urn (that’s the only word that comes to Kunikida’s mind, as it was just so large) of maple syrup, both insisting that he eat it all.

   He, er, had expelled most of it, to his utter humiliation and to Yosano’s complete unsurprise.

   And then, it got worse… Dazai came in and tried to cheer him up, as it were, by driving him “COMPLETELY UP THE WALL” and constantly poking and prodding him, pretending to give him a soothing massage when really he was nearly breaking Kunikida’s foot to go along with his disease.

   Then, to top it all off, Junichirou comes in, maybe five or ten minutes before Yosano’s return, only to tell him that he finished all of Kunikida’s work… When Kunikida asked Junichirou to show him, Kenji waddled in with the laptop, and after seeing the state it was in, Kunikida could do nothing but scream.

   Kunikida’s end up sent home for the week — and the detectives are given a thorough scolding from the President. Ranpo laughs about it nonstop, every day up until Kunikida returns…

   And once he does, nobody goes near him, not even Dazai.

   They know if they do…

   It won’t end well.

   But, when Kunikida arrives, all better now though even angrier than usual, to sit at his desk…

   He finds a little card perched on his laptop.

   He takes the small, thick paper, and unfolds it to reveal the words, surely in one of the members’ neat calligraphy…

We’re sorry!! Get well soon, Kunikida-san!

   And it’s signed by every one of the detectives and clerks, even Dazai and Ranpo.

   So maybe it did end well, after all.

#bungou stray dogs #kunikida doppo #doppo kunikida #dazai osamu #osamu dazai #yosano akiko #akiko yosano #armed detective agency #bsd #bungo stray dogs #fanfic #anonymous #ask

[killmongerdreams]

dissonance [9]

summary: Progress is made. || mythology au || hades!bucky x persephone!reader 

warnings: smut is in the second half of this so tread lightly if you aren’t into that 

notes: Lumina cracks me up. Just saying. Two updates in just a few days. I’m on a roll. 

“I’m going to have to go topside soon.” Y/N notes at breakfast the next day. James looks up at her in confusion, hand paused halfway to his mouth. She gives him an encouraging smile in an attempt to quell his fears. “It’s okay, James. I just get...antsy when I’m away for too long. It can make me ill, sometimes.”

“Ill?” James parrots. Dread creeps up his spine. Being in his realm is hurting her? The notion made him a little sick himself. “Ill how, little one?”

“I get headaches. Chills. Fevers, sometimes.” Y/N explains. How she sounds so nonchalant about it is beyond him. “It’s why I’ve never strayed far from home too much.”

James nods, understanding. “Are you feeling ill now?”

“Minor headache, nothing too bad.” Y/N reveals. “It’ll get worse if I don’t go home soon, though. Which, I have to talk to you about.”

James motions for her to continue, undivided attention trained upon her. She looks nervous to broach whatever she wanted to discuss, and he can’t help but smile a little. Even after her weekend of power, she still has that timid air about her that James loves. 

“I want you to come home with me.” Y/N says. “I spent a few days here in your realm, it’s only fair that you spend a few in mine.”

He considers it for a moment, chewing on his bottom lip in thought. She was right, and if they were to be married, the two of them would have to learn how to coexist in each other’s domain. 

“May I have the day to prepare?” he asks eventually. “We can leave tonight.”

“Of course, my love.”

The smile she rewards him with makes his heart soar. He’d do anything to keep that smile on her face, even if it meant living among the mortals every once in a while. 

“What kind of wardrobe constitutes staying on Earth?” 

James looks to Lumina, finding her lying inside his suitcase, thoroughly amused by her companion’s attempt to dress like a normal human. Y/N had this part down pat, knowing how to blend and disguise, but James hadn’t truly integrated within the mortal population in so long that he forgot what it feels like to act the role. 

“Is this appropriate?” James holds out a suit, simple compared to his usual regal attire but still highly overstated for a stint on Earth. Lumina takes one look at it and starts to mewl with laughter, rolling over on her back in amusement. It makes the god scowl.

“I hate you. You know that, right?” James tells her. She waves a paw at him, uncaring, still laughing.

“You don’t hate her, love.” James looks over his shoulder to find Y/N leaning against the doorway, already back in her normal dress, already out of the glamour the underworld provided. It makes James the slightest bit sad. “You’d go crazy if you didn’t have her.”

Lumina makes an eager sound of agreement.

“She is the reason I'm crazy.” James mutters. He sits down on his bed, suit in hand, sighing in frustration. Y/N stands between his legs, running a hand through his long, styled locks. “I’m not even on Earth yet, and I’m already floundering at blending in.”

“I’ll be there to help you, James.” Y/N reassures. 

Lumina meows a sentence before she starts squeaking out laughter again, and Y/N watches James throw the suit to the floor like a child, huffing in annoyance. “I loathe that fucking animal. I swear I do.”

Y/N’s home is exactly what James imagined it to be. It’s small but not suffocating, quaint yet completely embodying the young goddess’ blooming personality at the same time. Floor to ceiling windows line the back wall of her tiny cottage, letting the moonlight infiltrate the living room and illuminate the cold concrete underneath their feet. 

“A lovely home you have here, little one.” James murmurs, wrapping her arms around her waist. She smiles, but James can sense her nerves. Her heartbeat flutters as fast as a hummingbird’s wings, a short, rapid staccato beating in her chest. “What’s wrong? I thought you wanted me here?”

“I do.” Y/N whispers. “But...there’s something else I wanted.”

“What is it?” 

Y/N seems to steel herself for a moment, taking a deep breath before turning in her soon-to-be husband’s arms. Determination blazes in her eyes, and James watches, entranced, as she runs her hands over the front of his shirt, sliding low until she reaches the hem.

“I want you, my king.” she tells him. Her voice tremors slightly. “If we are to be married, I want to learn beforehand.”

“Learn?” his eyebrows drag together in confusion. 

“I want to learn -” she hesitates, voice trailing off shyly. She swallows the lump in her throat, trying again. “I want to learn how to be intimate with you. How to  please you.”

A sudden burst of heat courses through James’ body at her words. He ignores it, taking a step back, giving them both the room to think clearly. What she’s wanting is monumental, a leaping step that James isn’t entirely sure she’s ready for. Aside from a few passionate moments where James has forgotten himself, they’ve never attempted to push the boundaries, to push for a greater physicality within their dynamic. 

“Are you truly wanting this or do you feel obligated?” James asks, raising an eyebrow. “I don’t want something you don’t want as well.”

Y/N seems offended at the notion of obligation. His question gets a raised eyebrow in return, her arms crossed over her chest. “I thought it was made apparent that I don’t do anything I don’t want to.”

“Believe me.” James can’t help but laugh a little. “I’m well aware of that.”

“Then it’s settled.”

With a smirk he steps around her, settling down on the tiny, plush couch. He pats his thigh in invitation. “C’mere, little one.”

Y/N situates herself in his lap, biting her lip shyly. What little bravado she momentarily possessed is now gone. She’s putting herself in his hands, trusting him to guide her. James was in no way going to fail her. He would make sure of that.

“Intimacy is not only about me receiving pleasure.” James tells her. She tilts her head, confused. “It’s also about you, little one. If you are not satisfied, then I am not satisfied, either.”

“But a wife’s duty...” Y/N trails off when James shakes his head, eliminating that thought before it could fully manifest.

“You will not cater to me and expect to get nothing in return.” James holds her jaw with a gentle hand, makes sure she’s staring straight into his eyes as he explains. “You will never leave a situation with me feeling unfulfilled. Do you understand?”

“Yes, my king.” Y/N whispers. 

“Good girl.” the praise draws a soft whimper out of her, leaving her more flustered than before. James doesn’t call her out on it, storing the information for later use.

“We will not have sex tonight.” James continues, ignoring her indignant sputtering. “I feel as if that would be too much for you to experience at once. I don’t want to scare you.”

“But what else is there to experience?” Y/N asks. James thinks she may be pouting a little, innocence so apparent that it nearly hurts. He smiles, amused.

“There is a fair amount for you to experience, little one.” Y/N watches his eyes flicker, crimson fighting to overtake the blue. His gaze drops to her mouth, wanting.

“Like what?” 

His hand caresses her thigh at the question, head nuzzling into the crook of her neck. Soft lips pepper chaste barely there kisses up the column of her throat. Y/N practically melts in his embrace, head lolling to the side as she sighs.  

He kisses the corner of her mouth, drawing back slightly. “May I touch you, Y/N?”

The goddess nods eagerly, but he makes no move to do so. “Use your words, little one. I have to hear you voice your permission.”

“Yes, James.” she breathes. “You can touch me.”

And with that, he pulls her into a scorching kiss, hands gripping below her rib cage as she squirms in his lap. Her constant movement ignites a flame within James, fueling his desire to make her fall apart at the seams in pleasure. 

His tongue drags across her bottom lip, one hand dipping underneath the hem of her dress, fingertips grazing the front of her underwear. The sensation makes her gasp, body tensing at the feeling.

James pulls away immediately, breathing heavy. “Relax for me, baby. I’m not going to hurt you.”

“I’m sorry.” Heat tinges her cheeks, and she looks away, ashamed at her trepidation.

“Don’t apologize.” James orders. “Do you want me to stop?”

She shakes her head, and James sighs. “Words, Y/N.”

“I don’t want you to stop.” 

James keeps his eyes on her as he replaces his hand, gently rubbing two fingers over the damp cotton between her legs. She whimpers, seizing her bottom lip between her teeth. 

James thinks she looks like an angel - a wanton, seductive angel. And he’s the devil destined to corrupt Heaven’s greatest creation. 

“Feel good?” James checks in. 

The quiet moan from her is answer enough. 

He uses his free hand to hook her underwear to the side, thumb sliding over her slit, gathering the slickness pooling at her hole. He presses in ever so slightly, reveling in the hitch of her breath.

“So responsive, little one.” James purrs. His voice has dropped an octave, deepened with his arousal. “So wet for me.”

The sound of James’ voice makes her tremble, dragging her further under the waves of lust crashing over her. His thumb slips upward, dragging over a spot that makes her cry out, hips rolling of their own accord. James circles it ruthlessly in hard, slow circles. 

“J-James.” his name on her tongue is a pleading moan, her head dropping to his shoulder. He kisses her temple, smiling at how quickly he’s managed to dismantle her composure. She’s lost all inhibitions.

Heat rises in her stomach at an alarming rate, threatening to consume her as Y/N gives way to the feeling of James’ hand on her. The closer she gets, the louder she gets, and James has the thrilling feeling that his love is going to be a screamer when she comes. 

His suspicions are confirmed a moment later when she screams his name, eyes squeezed closed in bliss as she shakes in his embrace.

What he isn’t prepared for, though, is the burst of magic that she lets loose. 

It blindsides him, clouding his mind with a haze of pleasure. James gasps, hips bucking, stomach clenching as he comes, too. His head tips backwards as he fights to catch his breath, mind reeling. 

“Little one.” Y/N hums sleepily in reply. “Did you - did you do that on purpose?”

“Do what?” she questions.

“Hm. Nevermind.” 

He’ll broach the topic later, once he’s able to make sense of it himself. 

There is a nuisance interfering with his sleep, and it isn’t Lumina for once. James groans in protest as Y/N tries to shake him awake.

“Get up!” she orders. “We have things to do today!”

James pops open one blue eye, peering out the window to see that the sun’s barely risen over the horizon. “No.”

“Yes!” Y/N cries. She whacks him with a pillow, giggling.

“The sun’s not even awake yet.” James complains. Nonetheless, he sits up, blinking blearily at his fiancee. She’s smiling at him, already dressed for whatever she has planned for them today. “I didn’t sign up for this.”

“Too bad so sad, mister. C’mon, get dressed. There’ll be breakfast waiting for you when you’re done.”

tags: 

@retroasgardian @imsecretlyromanburki @debbielovesbucky @ughjoekeery@mercedesbarnes @chaoswandas @doublestufthoreo @manonblxckbexk@grande-and-thediamonds

@feelmyroarrrr @givemethatgold @justasunflower @simplyme8308 @persephone-is-here-omg @papi-chulo-bucky @addictionmarvel @bucky-heaven-james @plumfondler @minervaem  @kindnesswins @waywardimpalawriter @duskshadowz @sexylibrarian1@angryschnauzer @lucetheding  @bootypoppinbarnes@just-call-me-your-darling@asifblackmagic @magellan-88

@pineapplebooboo @supernaturaldean67 @4theluvofall @hollycornish @thinkwritexpress-official @nativesebby @lilasiannerd @cassandra-munn @sebastian-stans-thighs@apollogirl13 @sebashtiansatan

@valkyeries @jobean12-blog @captainpoopweinersoldier @hvitty @zombiewerewolfqueen@beebossinner @learisa @papermoon2719 @softwhispers @lizency@memory-of-a-goldfish@mamapeterson @its-daydreamer23 @beautiful-aravis@nataliarxmanxva @lovelynemesis@kudosia @edward-lover18 @buckyappreciationsociety@mangowoods @siren-kitten-his@soldierplum @spinsterlocity

@green-eyeddragonfanfiction @smokeandmirrorscloakanddagger @moonbeambucky@tiyetiye

#mythology au #bucky barnes mythology au #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x reader smut #bucky barnes x reader fluff #bucky barnes x reader imagine #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fluff #hades!bucky #hades!bucky barnes #hades!bucky barnes x persephone!reader

[xerxia31]

Blanket Fort

The ever delightful #smutketeer extraordinaire @burkygirl sent me this link and a request, and how could I resist? 

I give you E-rated Everlark blanket fort. Sorry it took so long, my friend.

Between the craziness of the holidays, the back-to-back snowstorms that rendered the roads treacherous for days on end, and the extreme cold that made it impossible to send the kids outdoors to play for more than a few minutes, Katniss was certain she was losing her mind. And it certainly didn’t help that half of Peeta’s staff had the flu. He’d been stuck late at the bakery every night since Christmas, leaving Katniss to deal with her cabin-fevered brood alone.

So when her friend Madge called and offered to take the kids for the night, Katniss did what any sane person would do - she gathered up pyjamas and toothbrushes for Willow and the twins and packed them all in the back of her Subaru.

Driving back down her long country driveway forty-five minutes later, Katniss began to relax, for the first time in weeks. An evening alone. She could have a long, hot bath, drink a glass of wine, and check Tumblr while awake enough to actually read it. Oh, maybe that incredible mermaid story would have an update? The possibilities were endless…

Shucking her boots and coat, she walked into the living room smiling to herself, only to stop dead in her tracks. The room was in complete disarray, blankets and pillows were everywhere, draped and piled over the furniture. Damn, she thought she’d cleaned up all of that crap earlier. Archer must have pulled it all out again while she was wrestling Rye into his snowsuit. As much as she adored her four-year-old sons, they were definitely going to be the death of her.

Her sigh looking at the mess was long and loud. So much for a relaxing evening; it was going to take the last of her energy just to refold all of the blankets and schlep them back to the linen closet. But then a mop of golden curls popped out of the chaos, and she jumped. “Peeta?”

With his pale curls and mischievous grin, Peeta Mellark was almost the spitting image of his sons, albeit bigger and older. But the glint in his crystalline blue eyes was all his own.

Katniss knew that expression. She loved that expression. Warmth spread throughout her, pooling in her core, dashing her annoyance at the mess and the interruption of her solitary plans. “You're home,” she murmured as he held open the flap of what she was beginning to see was a blanket fort and beckoned her inside with a wiggle of his brows. She rolled her eyes, but dropped to her knees to crawl in after him.

The fort was far more elaborate than she’d first thought, and while not huge inside, it was perfect for two. Peeta had strung up white twinkle lights and low music hummed from his docking station. And on what she thought was normally their ottoman (though it was hard to tell, all swathed as it was in sheets), sat a bottle of wine and a white bakery box that she hoped was full of Mellark’s famous cheese buns.

(She knew it would be.)

Once she’d clambered over the piles of throw cushions to sit beside Peeta, he pulled her into his arms. She was enveloped in warmth, wrapped in the scents of cinnamon and dill that clung to him a like a lover’s caress. Katniss sighed, curling into her husband as he kissed her hair, luxuriating in the comfort and quiet of their cozy little nest. “Gale texted me, let me know he and Madge have the rugrats,” he said. “I called in some favours so I could get home to you early for a change.” He buried his nose in her hair, inhaling deeply.

“Favours?” She sighed as his lips slid lower, his breath hot against her ear.

“Mmmm,” he agreed. “I might be making the cake for Thresh’s daughter’s sweet sixteen.”

Katniss laughed. “You were already going to make Rue’s birthday cake.” Peeta chuckled too, but the mirth cut off as she dragged her fingers under the hem of his shirt, palming the abdominal muscles that were still firm and flat even after ten years of marriage. Forget the wine and cheese buns, all she really wanted was Peeta.

He growled as her fingers slipped into his waistband. “I’m trying to seduce you here, with wine and treats,” he mumbled. “You’re spoiling my plans.” But the erection he thrust against her hip told her he wasn’t upset in the least.

Peeta slipped the buttons of her flannel shirt open, one by one, dipping his head to kiss each exposed inch of collarbone. Her fingers abandoned their wandering, sliding up to instead tangle in his curls, overlong, just the way she loved them.

She lost herself in sensation as Peeta explored maddeningly slowly, his stubble rasping across her skin. He kissed the soft swells above her simple cotton bra, groaning his appreciation into her flesh. “So sexy,” he whispered.

It hadn't been that long since the last time they'd made love, not really. But the stress and solitude of the past couple of weeks made it feel like forever. She was aching for him, body and soul. “I've missed you so much,” she breathed, then cringed at the vulnerability in her voice. She knew Peeta didn't want to be away so much, knew he hated missing out on their home life.

Peeta lifted his head. “I'm sorry I haven't been here,” he whispered, but she silenced him with a kiss.

“We’re here now,” she said against his lips.

“We’re here now,” he agreed. “And I just want to spend every possible minute with you.”

“I'll allow it,” Katniss smiled, tugging him to lie on top of her, revelling in the feeling of his solid weight pressing her down. Safe and cherished.

Peeta continued with his controlled exploration, as if he knew intuitively that what she needed at that moment was to be loved slowly, fully, with no distractions. Gentle hands caressed, peeled away each layer reverently, lips and tongue and teeth following, building in intensity until Katniss was nothing but a panting, squirming ball of need. “Please,” she begged. “Please, Peeta.”

“Tell me what you want,” he growled, gravel-voiced. Though she was in nothing but panties he was still fully clothed somehow, the seam of his trousers rubbing her just right as he rocked above her. Katniss arched against him, trying to tug off his shirt.

“You,” she gasped.

“I’m yours,” he said simply.

“Take off your clothes,” she whispered. He knelt between her splayed thighs, head brushing the roof of their blanket fort, static and twinkle-lights haloing him. Katniss licked her lips as he pulled off his tee, baring pale, toned skin kissed by burnished golden hair. He was impossibly hot, even hotter than he had been when they first started dating, way back in high school. She reached for him, stubby fingernails tracing his outer obliques, the oh-so-sexy vee that pointed downwards, beckoning her eyes to follow.

She couldn't resist cupping him over his khakis, and he twitched in her hand, his head falling forward, breath escaping in a shuddering moan. “Can you feel the effect you always have on me?” he murmured, thrusting shallowly against her hand. Katniss squeezed her affirmation, earning another guttural groan.

Together, they stripped away the last few garments between them.

“You're so wet,” Peeta panted appreciatively as his fingers found her core, circling with a confidence born of years together.

“I want you,” she gasped, knowing what that word would do to her husband. Though he was a strong, confident man, the shy teenager who took years to shore up enough courage just to speak to her still lurked in his psyche. Any reminder that she chose him, above everyone else, drove him wild.

Peeta kissed her, hard, a kiss flavoured with lust and love and gratitude. Then his huge hands were caressing her thighs, spreading her wide for him. His head dipped, teasing her aching flesh, driving her higher but not letting her get too close to the edge, tormenting even as he worshipped her body until she was begging. She tugged his golden curls, and he acquiesced, sliding back up her body, practically chuckling at her impatience. But when she took him in hand his humour changed into something more carnal.

She guided him home, sighing as he filled her, revelling in the stretch, the burn of his possession. She loved the way Peeta always had to pause when he first entered her, as if the feeling of her body gripping his was so overwhelming it momentarily paralyzed him.

Then he was moving, deep, controlled thrusts. Even with the thousands of times they’d done this, Katniss swore it only got better and better. Peeta’s pace never faltered as he kissed and licked and nipped her body, leisurely building her pleasure.

She moaned softly against Peeta’s throat, but he lifted his head, locking his lust-hazed gaze with her own. “Let me hear you, Kitten,” he growled. “I want to hear you.” She knew what he meant. Far too often their lovemaking had to be nearly silent, lest they wake the kids. But they were alone, they could be free with their passion.

“Peeta,” she gasped, and his smile turned cocky.

“Louder, Kitten,” he said, gripping her thighs to tilt her pelvis, increasing the force of his thrusts and she complied, howling her pleasure to the fabric sky. Peeta cursed, sliding a hand between them, stroking her deftly as she watched him struggle to stay in control.

“I’m so close,” she all but wailed and his thumb pressed just a little harder against her pearl, sending her skyrocketing. He followed, his shout of release loud and joyous. Then he collapsed beside Katniss, gathering her into his arms, gasping words of praise.

They laid together in perfect post-coital contentment until Katniss’s stomach protested. Peeta laughed, and pulling himself upright, kissed her stomach - softer now, after three children. Then he reached for the bakery box while Katniss watched him, silver eyes glowing with affection.

He fed her sips of wine and bites of golden pastry, kissing away the crumbs, the adoring smile never leaving his handsome face. And Katniss felt relaxed and refreshed, for the first time in weeks.

“So why the blanket fort?” Katniss asked as she nibbled a second cheese bun. Peeta laughed.

“There was a trail of blankets all down the hall when I got home,” he said, and Katniss groaned. She should have known Archer had been behind this after all. “I was going to put them away, but then I figured why not have fun with them instead?” Peeta pulled her closer, dislodging one of the quilts to wrap around her naked body. She hummed her approval.

“I like it,” she admitted. “Our own little cozy cave. Like a refuge from reality.” Peeta’s eyes were alight with pleasure. Marriage and parenthood and adult responsibilities did little to dampen his boyish enthusiasm for life, his lightness, his goodness, and Katniss couldn't help loving him for it. He always brought whimsy and play into their lives, even when the day to day drudgery was almost overwhelming. Especially then, really.

“We could stay here all night,” he teased, but Katniss shook her head.

“Cozy, yes, but far less comfortable than our bed,” she laughed. “And I think I’m lying on crumbs.” She sat up reluctantly.

Peeta sighed with mock annoyance, but his eyes twinkled. “Oh all right.” He handed Katniss the wine bottle and half-empty bakery box. “You go on ahead, I’ll put away the pillows and blankets.”

“Leave them, at least until the kids get home tomorrow.” Katniss glanced around at the twinkle lights, the impressive way the roof was suspended using one of Willow’s skipping ropes. All three kids would be enamoured with Peeta’s creation, and it would doubtless buy her a solid forty minutes of peace.

She might get to read Tumblr yet...

#everlark #xerxia writes #burkygirl

[professortennant]

I’d love to see a story where Jean wakes up mid-sex dream and spends the rest of the day super frustrated and Lucien takes a while to figure out why

sorry for the wait; hope i delivered! 1700 words.

She arched up off the bed, gasping and reaching for him. His mouth and fingers were working in tandem to bring her to the height of pleasure. Lucien growled against her and she shivered as his teeth grazed the slick, sensitive flesh of her sex. 

“All mine,” he whispered, nuzzling at her damp curls, crooking his finger just so inside of her. Jean twitched and writhed beneath his touch. She was done being his plaything, done being teased. She wanted him inside her now.

Desperately, she tugged on his hair and shoulders, urging him up. She needed his mouth on hers. But Lucien teased her more, grinning, puling his fingers away from her. “Is there something you want, love?”

She twisted amongst the sheets, nodding. The words were stuck in her throat. Lucien crawled over her body, trailing his fingers up her sides and across her breasts, resting lightly on her throat. He leaned close, lips brushing hers ever so slightly. Jean could feel his erection pressing against her, just a twist of her hips away from being inside her. 

She cried out for him, a plea and a prayer. “Please.”

But he simply settled against her more firmly, like a lazy sun-warmed cat, content to stay here all day. “Tell me exactly what you want me to do to you, Jeannie.”

She found the words, then, desperation and pleasure pushing her to unstick her tongue. “I want--”

Jean’s eyes sprung open and she found herself disoriented for a moment. Her heart was beating fast, the sheets were damp with sweat, and one of her hands had found its way beneath her nightgown and underwear. She was shocked to find how wet she was just from a simple dream. 

The memory of the dream was starting to fade, but she remembered the way Lucien’s dream-self had made love to her with his mouth and fingers, teased her to near-completion. The thought made her cheeks flush and she caught herself absentmindedly stroking herself once more. 

Removing her hand from her underwear, she flung a hand over her eyes, willing herself to wake up and shake off the last of the dream. It wouldn’t do to dwell on such fantasies. Lucien’s divorce still wasn’t finalized and who knew when the wedding and wedding night would take place.

Until then, it would be best to keep a lid on these feelings. Otherwise she may just drive herself mad with unresolved desire. 

With a resolve to put these thoughts far from her mind, she slipped out of bed and into the shower, hoping the scalding hot water would wake her up and start her day afresh. Unfortunately, the spray of hot water pulsed against her already sensitive skin and she found herself wishing Lucien was beside her. She imagined the way the water rivulets would roll down his body, over his chest and abdomen and down....

Groaning, she braced herself and flipped the shower faucet to cold. The shockingly cold water did the trick, cooling her over-heated skin and chasing out all thoughts of a naked Lucien in the shower.

The shower, however, was just the start of her frustrations. Everything today seemed to remind her of her frustrations and how unsatisfied, how unfulfilled, she was. 

Lucien’s brief, chaste kiss in morning greeting nearly caused her to drop the tea kettle. She wanted to instead wrap her arms around him, dragging him down to the cool kitchen tiles, and straddle him, finally taking exactly what she needed.

Lucien stared at her strangely when she froze beneath his kiss and very gingerly placed the kettle back on the stove. “Jean, love, you alright? You seem tense?”

But she shot him a strained smile, hoping he would simply let it go. “Fine, fine. Just didn’t get enough sleep.” A lie shrouded in truth. 

But Lucien, her brilliant Lucien, didn’t let it go. He laid his palm across her forehead, checking for a fever. Jean simply thought of the size of his hands, how big and warm they were, how the calluses on his palms and fingers would feel dragging down over-heated and sensitive skin, how they would feel curling inside of her...

She batted his hand away, turning back to the stove, breathing harshly and giving herself a little shake. “I said I’m fine, Lucien,” she snapped. Her heart was beating fast and she felt control slipping from her. 

This was so unlike her: always the picture of propriety and control. But Lucien was finally her fiancée, destined to be her husband, and she had long-since admired the curve of his backside and the strength of his arms and she was finding it more and more difficult to not simply throw caution to the wind and let him have her. 

Lucien pulled his hand back and stared at her, hurt. “Right,” he said, slowly. “I’ll just leave you to it, then.” He dropped his gaze and began a slouch out of the kitchen, not unlike a lovable puppy who had been kicked.

Jean sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Wait, Lucien. I-I’m sorry.” She licked her lips. “I had a dream last night that’s got me rather shaken up is all.”

Lucien was at her side in an instant, taking her hand in his, concerned. “A nightmare?”

She blushed. “No, not a nightmare. Y-you were there.” Jean hated the stammer in her voice, but no matter how much she loved and desired Lucien, speaking of her desires to frankly still made her feel like a blushing schoolgirl. 

She remembered her dream, remembered the way her dream-self had wanted to utter out every fantasy, remembered the way Lucien had all but demanded that she tell him every sordid act she wanted him to do to her.

Maybe Lucien needed to hear it as much as she wanted to say it.

Risking a glance up at him, she carried on. “I think it may have been our wedding night. You were touching me. Kissing me. You asked me to tell you what I wanted.”

She watched as Lucien’s eyes widened in surprise before rapidly darkening with intrigue and desire. “And what did you say?”

Lucien’s grip on her hands tightened and she could feel the danger of the game they were playing. She pulled her hand away from his a little so she could trace random patterns into the palm of his hand, her nail scraping along his skin, teasing. 

“I couldn’t quite get the words out. You had me quite tongue-tied.”

“Oh?” His voice was low and husky. Jean grinned, pleased to see his as affected as she was. 

“Tell me, Lucien. W-what would you say if I asked you? What would you want?”

Lucien groaned, eyes closing. “Jean, love, I don’t know if we should--”

She covered his lips with her finger, stopping his protests. “Please, Lucien. I want to know.” Her heart was pounding beneath her chest and she felt her pulse pick up, the blood rushing to her cheeks. 

The thrill and frustration of her dream this morning was returning, only this was real. 

Lucien kissed the tip of her finger before nipping at it, teasing. "I want you in every way imaginable, Jean. I want you in my bed--our bed. I want you beneath me. On top of me. I want your kisses and your touch. I want to simply touch you for hours, love. Would you do that?” His eyes were desperate and wild with desire, the images being conjured by his imagination overwhelming him. “Would you let me just touch you all night? I want to make you so happy. I could do it, if you’d let me.”

Jean shivered at the tone of his voice, imagined that heady, focused desperation directed at her and her pleasure alone. She nodded, surging forward and slanting her lips over his, needing some sort of outlet for these building emotions. 

He groaned at the first sweep of her tongue over his lips, clutching her to him. Unlike the night of their kitchen kiss, Jean was in control, wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing herself fully against him. 

He tasted of tea and honey and Jean chased the flavor into his mouth. Lucien groaned when her teeth grazed his lips and curiously, she nipped at the full flesh of his bottom lip. Lucien bucked against her, groaning out her name. 

The heat of the stove behind her and the heat of his body in front of her was fanning the flames of desire within her and she wanted to shed the apron she was wearing and drag him back to her bedroom. 

After all, they were going to be husband and wife. Why did they have to wait when there was this passion between them? Why could Rose and Charlie prance about the house, fulfilling their desires when they had to wait? She wanted Lucien. She wanted him now.

But Lucien was easing away from her, panting heavily, pressing a series of kisses to her lips and cheek and jaw and nose. “Jean, love. We need to stop before we won’t be able to. And you and I both know we’d regret it if we didn’t wait.” 

Jean sighed, knowing he was right. It was important to her that they be married before falling into bed. Even the strength of her desire for Lucien wasn’t enough to topple those beliefs. 

She fell against his chest, letting out a huff of frustration. Lucien laughed lightly, wrapping his arms around her and simply holding her. She heard the steady, racing thump of his heart beneath her ear and she was pleased to note he was not unaffected by their kisses. 

Lucien pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “I’ll be here waiting for you, Jean, whenever you’re ready. Until then, keep dreaming of me. As I do you.”

She snuggled further into his arms, content to simply be held by him. He was, after all, the man of her dreams.

#tdbm #tdbm fic #jean x lucien #lucien x jean #weeeeeee #spacecowboybriony

[dfroza]

Today’s reading in the ancient book of Psalms and Proverbs

for february 7 of 2020 with Psalm 7 and Proverbs 7, accompanied by Psalm 49 for the 49th day of Winter, and Psalm 38 for day 38 of the year

[Psalm 7]

A David Psalm

God! God! I am running to you for dear life;

the chase is wild.

If they catch me, I’m finished:

ripped to shreds by foes fierce as lions,

dragged into the forest and left

unlooked for, unremembered.

God, if I’ve done what they say—

betrayed my friends,

ripped off my enemies—

If my hands are really that dirty,

let them get me, walk all over me,

leave me flat on my face in the dirt.

Stand up, God; pit your holy fury

against my furious enemies.

Wake up, God. My accusers have packed

the courtroom; it’s judgment time.

Take your place on the bench, reach for your gavel,

throw out the false charges against me.

I’m ready, confident in your verdict:

“Innocent.”

Close the book on Evil, God,

but publish your mandate for us.

You get us ready for life:

you probe for our soft spots,

you knock off our rough edges.

And I’m feeling so fit, so safe:

made right, kept right.

God in solemn honor does things right,

but his nerves are sandpapered raw.

Nobody gets by with anything.

God is already in action—

Sword honed on his whetstone,

bow strung, arrow on the string,

Lethal weapons in hand,

each arrow a flaming missile.

Look at that guy!

He had sex with sin,

he’s pregnant with evil.

Oh, look! He’s having

the baby—a Lie-Baby!

See that man shoveling day after day,

digging, then concealing, his man-trap

down that lonely stretch of road?

Go back and look again—you’ll see him in it headfirst,

legs waving in the breeze.

That’s what happens:

mischief backfires;

violence boomerangs.

I’m thanking God, who makes things right.

I’m singing the fame of heaven-high God.

The Book of Psalms, Poem 7 (The Message)

and importance of having understanding, of knowing the eternal truth in Love and the significance of grace, whether rich or poor, is seen in the lines of Psalm 49:

For the worship leader. A song of the sons of Korah.

Listen up, everyone!

All you who reside in this world, give an ear!

Everyone—rich and poor,

young and old, wise and foolish, humble and mighty—

My mouth will overflow with wisdom;

the reflections of my heart will guide you to understand the nature of life.

I will tune my ear to the words of a proverb;

to the sounds of a harp, I will reveal my riddle.

Why should I be afraid when dark evils swirl about me,

when I am walking among the sin of evildoers—

Those who depend on their own fortunes,

who boast about their earthly riches?

One person can’t grant salvation to another

or make a payment to the True God for another.

Redeeming a life is costly;

no premium is enough, ever enough,

That one’s body might live on forever

and never fear the grave’s decay.

Everyone knows that even the wisest ones die,

perishing together with the foolish and the stupid.

For all die—beggars and kings, fools and wise men.

Their wealth remains behind for others.

Although they wish to dwell in fine houses forever,

their graves are their real resting places.

Their homes are for all future generations,

yet for a while they have named lands after themselves.

[No one, regardless of how rich or important, can live forever;

he is] just like the animals that perish and decay.

This is the destiny of those foolish souls who have faith only in themselves;

this will be the end of those happy to follow in their ways.

[pause]

The fate of fools is the grave, and just like sheep,

death will feast on them.

The righteous will rule over them at dawn,

their bodies, their outward forms, rotting in the grave

far away from their great mansions.

But God will reach into the grave and save my life from its power.

He will fetch me and take me into His eternal house.

[pause]

Do not be afraid of the rich and powerful

as their prestige and honor grow,

For they cannot take anything with them when they die.

Their fame and glory will not follow them into the grave.

During their lives, they seek every blessing and advantage

because others praise you when you’ve done well.

But they will soon join their ancestors, for all of time,

among the tombs of the faithless—a place of no light.

Anyone who is rich or important without understanding

is just like the animals that perish and decay.

The Book of Psalms, Poem 49 (The Voice)

the closing verse of the same in The Passion Translation:

So this is the way of mortal man—

honored for a moment, yet without eternal insight,

like a beast that will one day perish.

[Psalm 38]

A Groan before the Throne

A poetic lament to remember, by King David

O Lord, don’t punish me angrily for what I’ve done.

Don’t let my sin inflame your wrath against me.

For the arrows of your conviction have pierced me deeply.

Your blows have struck my soul and crushed me.

Now my body is sick.

My health is totally broken because of your anger,

and it’s all due to my sins!

I’m overwhelmed, swamped, and submerged

beneath the heavy burden of my guilt.

It clings to me and won’t let me go.

My rotting wounds are a witness against me.

They are severe and getting worse,

reminding me of my failure and folly.

I am completely broken because of what I’ve done.

Gloom is all around me.

My sins have bent me over to the ground.

My inner being is shriveled up;

my self-confidence crushed.

Sick with fever, I’m left exhausted.

Now I’m cold as a corpse and nothing is left inside me

but great groaning filled with anguish.

Lord, you know all my desires and deepest longings.

My tears are liquid words and you can read them all.

My heart beats wildly, my strength is sapped,

and the light of my eyes is going out.

My friends stay far away from me, avoiding me like the plague.

Even my family wants nothing to do with me.

Meanwhile my enemies are out to kill me,

plotting my ruin, speaking of my doom

as they spend every waking moment

planning how to finish me off.

I’m like a deaf man who no longer hears.

I can’t even speak up, and words fail me;

I have no argument to counter their threats.

Lord, the only thing I can do is wait and put my hope in you.

I wait for your help, my God.

So hear my cry and put an end to their strutting in pride,

who gloat when I stumble in pain.

I’m slipping away and on the verge of a breakdown,

with nothing but sorrow and sighing.

I confess all my sin to you; I can’t hold it in any longer.

My agonizing thoughts punish me for my wrongdoing;

I feel condemned as I consider all I’ve done.

My enemies are many.

They hate me and persecute me,

though I’ve done nothing against them to deserve it.

I show goodness to them and get repaid evil in return.

And they hate me even more when I stand for what is right.

So don’t forsake me now, Lord!

Don’t leave me in this condition.

God, hurry to help me, run to my rescue!

For you’re my Savior and my only hope!

The Book of Psalms, Poem 38 (The Passion Translation)

[Proverbs 7]

Stick close to my instruction, my son,

and follow all my advice.

If you do what I say you will live well.

Guard your life with my revelation-truth,

for my teaching is as precious as your eyesight.

Treasure my instructions, and cherish them within your heart.

Say to wisdom, “I love you,”

and to understanding, “You’re my sweetheart.”

“May the two of you protect me, and may we never be apart!”

For they will keep you from the adulteress,

with her smooth words meant to seduce your heart.

Looking out the window of my house one day

I noticed among the mindless crowd

a simple, naïve young man who was about to go astray.

There he was, walking down the street.

Then he turned the corner,

going on his way as he hurried on to the house of the harlot—

the woman he had planned to meet.

There he was in the twilight as darkness fell,

convinced no one was watching

as he entered the black shadows of hell.

That’s when their rendezvous began.

A woman of the night appeared,

dressed to kill the strength of any man.

She was decked out as a harlot, pursuing her amorous plan.

Her voice was seductive, rebellious, and boisterous

as she wandered far from what’s right.

Her type can be found soliciting on street corners

on just about any night.

She wrapped her arms around the senseless young man

and held him tight—

she enticed him with kisses that seemed so right.

Then, with insolence, she whispered in his ear,

“Come with me. It’ll be all right.

I’ve got everything we need for a feast.

I’ll cook you a wonderful dinner.

So here I am—I’m all yours!

You’re the very one I’ve looked for,

the one I knew I wanted from the moment I saw you.

That’s why I’ve come out here tonight,

so I could meet a man just like you.

I’ve spread my canopy bed with coverings,

lovely multicolored Egyptian linens spread

and ready for you to lie down on.

I’ve sprinkled the sheets with intoxicating perfume

made from myrrh, aloes, and sweet cinnamon.

Come, let’s get comfortable and take pleasure in each other

and make love all night!

There’s no one home, for my husband’s away on business.

He left home loaded with money to spend,

so don’t worry.

He won’t be back until another month ends.”

He was swayed by her sophistication,

enticed by her longing embrace.

She led him down the wayward path right into sin and disgrace.

Quickly he went astray, with no clue

where he was truly headed,

taken like a dumb ox alongside of the butcher.

She was like a venomous snake coiled to strike,

so she set her fangs into him!

He’s like a man about to be executed with an arrow

right through his heart—

like a bird that flies into the net,

unaware of what’s about to happen.

So listen to me, you young men.

You’d better take my words seriously!

Control your sexual urges and guard your hearts from lust.

Don’t let your passions get out of hand

and don’t lock your eyes onto a beautiful woman.

Why would you want to even get close

to temptation and seduction,

to have an affair with her?

She has pierced the souls of multitudes of men—

many mighty ones have fallen

and have been brought down by her.

If you’re looking for the road to hell,

just go looking for her house!

The Book of Proverbs, Chapter 7 (The Passion Translation)

[ichigolden]

[Klance] Speed Limits

Since @lumorie has infected me with this ship and motivated me to write this one.... There you go.

It's been a hell of a week for Lance. It was only the first week of the new semester, but he already felt like shit. University had backhanded him more than one time too often. Sometimes he struggled to even show up to his classes. Sure, some weren't obligatory, but he wouldn't study the material anyways, so he tried to attend every lecture - even if he slept through it. But attendance is attendance, right? After all that suffering he definitely deserved to stroll through town. He met up with Shiro, his former tutor. Shiro was a tall man, with curiously dyed white and black hair, and a huge scar across his face. Still, he couldn't save his ass from all the women. He was a real girl magnet. Not that it fazed Lance. No way, he swung into the opposite direction. Sadly, he swung alone, as he had discovered. He didn't really want to take a look at any gay clubs. Lance was just annoyed that when he talked to a man on the street, they had a very friendly talk and then went their own ways. Sometimes he felt like he was the only gay man around.

"Okay, man. I really wanna check out that new store downtown. Maybe I can even find something to bring to the party tonight" Shiro said with a wide smile. "Dude, you don't have to do any catering. You're not throwing that party. We're just there to- I don't know, why are we?" Lance answered, getting confused the more he talked. Shiro sighed. "You know, it's our faculty. So let's not talk about that again. Also, more than just our faculty is gonna be there. We could get to know some people who could further our career!" Shiro said excitedly. "Woohoo. Career." Lately, Lance wasn't as euphoric about education as Shiro. It had been rough. "And all because of the term paper you flunked?" "I didn't flunk it or anything. That jerk just didn't like me." "Whatever." Shiro strode proudly and Lance slumped by his side. The street didn't want to end. They just had to walk half a mile to reach the new store, but somehow it felt way longer. Lance hated these long straight roads. They were so unlike him. Also, the streets were plastered with street lamps and other obstacles everywhere. The town was almost completely under construction, so if you didn't walk against a bus stop sign, you'd definitely fall into one of the open sewers. Lance didn't like any of this. At all. Nothing ever happened in this town, anyways. The roaring traffic annoyed him as well. It was all awful to him. Awfully hopeless. A car drove by way too fast, startling Shiro and Lance. "We're going fifty in this town!" Shiro yelled after the reckless driver. He growled and crossed his arms in front of his chest. "Why can't nobody read? Did no one go to school?" Another loud vehicle came from behind, going faster than Shiro allowed. "What the fuck?" Shiro yelled and stomped around. Lance only shrugged his shoulders. Well, he didn't really care. A motorcyclist sped by. His machine was black and reflected the sun into Lance's eyes. His suit was made out of black leather and his helmet was  even blacker. "Slow down you jerk!" Shiro yelled after him. Lance's eyes followed the motorcyclist's attractive form. He loved that black leather on the motorcyclist's broad shoulders, and was delighted by the way the leather rippled under his movements. He couldn't help but follow his every move - and walk right into a street lamp. Groaning he fell back onto his butt. "Lance!" Shiro yelled and knelt down next to him. Lance cursed and rubbed his head. This would totally be a super nice blue bruise. Suddenly, they heard the motorcyclist laugh. He had stopped at a traffic light and glanced over his shoulder at the two friends. He almost doubled over his handlebar and rested his arms on it. Lance could only gawk at his smooth silhouette and the bending leather. Even his laugh was perfect. "You... you scoundrel!" Shiro yelled and was back on his feet, shaking his fists at him. The motorcyclist only continued to laugh, waved at the duo and sped off at green light. "Lance, are you okay?" Shiro asked, turning back at poor Lance on the ground. His face was dusted with a deep pink blush. "I think I'm in love" he stuttered. Shiro only sighed. "Can't you pick someone who respects speed limits?"

That evening, Shiro and Lance met at the latter's dorm room. Shiro was all dressed up, in a nice dress shirt and black pants. Lance wore the pants he had worn that day and the last two weeks before, and a simple blue hoodie, that complimented the bluish bruise that was beginning to form on his forehead. Shiro eyed him suspiciously. "Well, at least the bruise fits your sweater" he said flatly. Lance only shrugged. "Let's get this over with. I can't wait to get back, put my pjs on and just watch some series until I pass out at 5 am." Shiro furrowed his brows, but let it pass. Poor Lance might have hurt his head a little more than Shiro had initially thought. After he had declared his love for that rowdy, Shiro had just shrugged it off as Lance's body releasing chemicals to lessen the pain. Now, he kind of doubted it. Still, he and Lance made their way to the party. It wasn't a long walk, but the october air had gotten cold quickly. Lance enjoyed blowing out his breath to see little foggy clouds all around him. His eyes sparkled at the silhouettes he saw in them. "Look! I'm making clouds!" "Oh my god" Shiro facepalmed. When he dared to look up, he saw the building they were headed for. "Well, we're here. Please don't embarrass anyone. Especially not you or me." They walked through the parking lot, dodging cars and some kissing couples. "Ain't it too cold for action outside?" Lance asked, eying the couples. Shiro shook his head. Why go for action if you could go for education? Suddenly, Lance came to a halt next to Shiro, who kept walking until he noticed his missing companion. "Lance? What's wrong, buddy?" He turned around and looked at dumbstruck Lance, looking at some car. "Dude" "Yes?" "Dude" "Lance, what?" "Dude. It's him." Lance pointed at a motorcycle, hidden between two cars. The black machine was almost invisible in the meager light coming from the building. Shiro looked at Lance, baffled. "What? Are you sure? You only saw him for- what? Three minutes?" "Yes, but - " Lance blushed. "Doesn't matter. Gotta find him. His laugh was too adorable." Shiro felt the need to facepalm again. "This is excruciating." Lance suddenly got some life in him again. "Let's go! Maybe he's gay too!" "How will you recognize him, anyways?" Shiro was just always on point. Lance, who had broken into a sprint, now slowed down so that Shiro could catch up to him. "Um... I only know his laugh... So I'll just have to tell lots of jokes tonight, I guess."

As soon as they entered the building, the smell of alcohol greeted them. "I sure hope your motorcyclist won't drive home today" Shiro wrinkled his nose. Lance rolled his eyes. Why did Shiro have to be so upright? "Let's just go" "At least take him home, so there won't be any drunk driving" Now it was Lance's turn to facepalm. He sighed. If he found him. And if he did, who knows if he even swung Lance's way? After all, he was just some hot motorcyclist he didn't know. Still, he couldn't help but feel a surge of hope in his heart, as he looked through the people. There were many people, but at least he knew more than a half of them. Surely, someone must know the mysterious hottie. But he didn't want to ask. Not everyone knew about his sexuality and he was sure, not everyone would be supporting. He bumped his elbow into Shiro's side and they started walking.

It had been over an hour of searching now. Lance hadn't found a trace of the motorcyclist and was beginning to lose hope. He had ended up with some of his friends on a sofa, with an unusual high alcohol percentage in his blood. If he found him, he needed some courage, right? With him, there were some others. Some mildy intoxicated, some heavily. A girl sat next to him. She had bushy brown hair, wore a green shirt and jeans. She could have totally been his type, if he wasn't gay. Instead, Pidge - her real name was Katie but they found her talking to pidgeons once - was his best friend. She and Hunk, sitting next to her. They went through all of their classes together. "And you are sure that this mysterious hottie is here?" Pidge asked, correcting her glasses. She was the only really smart one around.  Lance nodded feverously. "Damn right I am!" "And you can only recognize him by his laugh?" "Yep" "Man, that's weak. How the hell are you going to find him?" "I told Shiro already. I'm gonna tell a whole lotta jokes tonight" "You've been telling literally none all night" "Well, I am sure none of you was that hot dude - no offense, Hunk" "None taken" replied Hunk. "And that bruise is your proof you didn't just dream all of it up" "And Shiro" Lance nodded. Pidge rolled her eyes. "As if that would make it any better. We all know that Shiro loves his stories" Hunk nodded and crossed his arms in front of his chest. "Well, it's already kinda late. You should probably get to it" Hunk said. Lance only sighed and slumped. He leaned his forearms onto his legs. "You can talk as much as you want, but doing it is always harder" he sighed wistfully. Pidge massaged her temples. She wasn't suited for this drama. "Okay. I've got a plan" She stood up and smashed a bottle on the floor as hard as she could. Everyone quieted down for a moment and stared at her. "Does anyone drive a black motorcycle and witnessed this dude here walk into a street lamp?" she yelled loudly and pointed at Lance. There was no answer, but very loud and obnoxious laughing from the back of the room. Before the others continued their conversations, Lance recognized that very special laugh. He bolted to his feet and hugged Pidge, whose glasses almost fell from her face. "Thanks!" Lance cheered and set her back on the ground. Pidge could only look at him dash off. In the same moment, Shiro rushed in from the opposite direction. "I told him not to embarrass anyone!" But Pidge only sat down and downed her drink. She'd need a lot more of it if she hoped to survive university with these people.

Lance stumbled through the dancing masses, his eyes darting from face to face. Now that the laughing had stopped, he had next to no chance of finding him again. He began feeling hopeless, there were just too many faces he didn't know. What would he do if he found him, anyways? Say something super embarrassing? Be really awkward? What if he wasn't what Lance hoped him to be? Standing in the middle of the dance floor, he contemplated his life. Man, he had fucked up, hadn't he? As he looked at the ground he didn't notice the nearing steps between all the dancing couples. A pair of feet came to a halt in front of him. "Ah, sorry" he said absentmindedly and stepped aside, but the feet didn't move. "Hey, um, I kind of witnessed you running into that lantern" a melodic voice said. Lance curiously looked up and was greeted by the smooth and pale face of a young and handsome man with pitch black hair and dark eyes. "Really? Aw man, that was so embarrassing!" Lance laughed awkwardly and scratched the back of his head. This would probably haunt him until the day after graduation day. "In fact, I drive a motorcycle. Wanna see it?" the stranger prompted. Lance looked him over. Well, he wasn't one to be fooled, but considering that this was only a dude who wanted to show off... "Sure!" Both danced inbetween the countless dancers out through the door. As soon as they exited the building, Lance breathed in deeply. The stranger looked at him. "Sure was hot in there, huh?" "Yeah man, this air is just heavenly" Lance said with a bright smile. "C'mon, she's this way" The stranger led him back exactly the same way he had come with Shiro. Not that Lance would have noticed. "Is every motorcycle a she?" Lance asked instead. The stranger looked at him, dumbfounded. "Aw shit, I don't know. I just assumed, ya know?" He scratched his head. They stopped in front of a small parking lot between two big cars. "There she is" The stranger said, stretching his arms and pointing at his machine. "Yeah, I don't see a thing" Lance squinted. The stranger fumbled in his pockets and pulled out a phone. He turned on the display and pointed it at the motorcycle. Now, in very bad lighting, Lance recognized the machine. He looked at the stranger with huge eyes, but he was staring lovingly at the motorcycle. "Ain't she pretty?" "Are you sure that this is yours?" Lance asked with the same blank face. "Sure am. The name's Keith, by the way" he said charmingly and laughed at Lance's face. "You were that hot motorcyclist with the cute laugh?!" Lance exclaimed loudly and pointed at Keith, who was only smirking. "I'm surprised it took you so long. When your friend made that scene I recognized you because of that bruise" Keith said, gesturing at Lance's forehead. "Aw man" Lance said, face palmed, and winced. Keith laughed and turned his phone off. "So embarrassing" Lance whined and hid his face in his hands. He knew it. He'd fucked up. Keith probably thought he was insane. Even though he found Keith even more sexy now, he couldn't muster up the strength to say something charming. Keith cleared his throat. "Would you be up for coffee sometime?" he asked, scratching his head awkwardly and looking at anything but Lance, who stared at him, dumbfounded. When he didn't answer Keith seemed to start panicking. "Um, if you don't want to, I get that! I just thought that you're kinda cute and you called me hot so I figured-" "Yes!" Lance shouted suddenly. "I'm sorry, I think my brain just checked out for a second" he added, "Um, also, my name is Lance" He laughed nervously and blushed a deep red. Lance was suddenly very thankful that it was night time. Or at least still before twilight. "So... um, it's a date, then?" Keith asked hopefully. Lance could only marvel at his beautiful dark eyes. He was so damn lucky. "Yes! Yes, yes, yes. Sure. A date. Yes" Lance rambled, nodding. Keith laughed at that. "Alright!" he cheered, "Well, um, would you like to go back inside? It's getting chilly out here." Lance nodded. "Sure!" Together, laughing and joking, they entered the building again and sat down to have a drink. Lance noticed the knowing looks from Pidge and Hunk, who were winking and making kissy faces at him. Still, he enjoyed Keith's company. Both ordered some fancy drinks they actually didn't know but ended up trading them, because they liked the other's better. Lance and Keith were talking intently, so they didn't notice the nearing looming figure. "Well, well. If that isn't Mr. ' I'm too cool to conform to rules'." Shiro stood next to their table and crossed his arms in front of his chest. Lance shrieked. "Shiro! What about that 'don't embarrass anyone'?" Shiro eyed Keith suspiciously. "It's fine, Lance" Keith smiled at him, and added "Well, it's true, I was speeding a little. So?" He smirked at Shiro, who started to squint. Then he turned to Lance. "I don't like him. He speeds and doesn't feel guilty." Shiro said, but Lance only hid his face in his hands. "I talk to a hot guy once and you come and embarrass me" he whined melodramatically. "It's alright!" Keith said quickly and waved with his hands. "Not really" Shiro huffed. Another figure suddenly appeared between them and jumped onto Shiro. "Stop it!" Pidge yelled and pulled at his collar. "Stop! Ruining! This! Don't make my stupid show from earlier go to waste!" she yelled at him. Shiro stared at her wide eyed and tried holding her so that she wouldn't fall. Simultaneously, he tried not to stumble himself. "Pidge!" Lance shrieked, "You guys are making this so hard! I just want to get to know him, okay?" He was still hiding his face in his hands and started rocking back and forth. Pidge was still yelling profanities at Shiro, while now even Hunk had come over to try and help Shiro to get her off of him. But Keith started laughing. He started to laugh that cute laugh that Lance liked so much. Tears were forming in the corners of his eyes. "You guys are pure gold" he laughed. The others stopped their fighting and just stared at Keith, who was shaking and laughing. "What the fuck" Pidge said and let herself be taken away from Shiro. Hunk gently put her on the ground. Shiro fumbled with his destroyed collar, but never took his eyes off  of Keith. Lance stared at him again, dumbfounded, wide eyed and confused. "Man, you guys" he laughed again. "What the fuck. Aren't you... confused? Don't you... wanna flee?" Lance asked. "And miss this? No way! I think I found some awesome new friends" he announced. "Friends?!" Shiro exclaimed. Pidge quickly jumped onto his back again. "Yeeees! Friends!" she said menacingly to him, and he nodded quickly. Hunk waved at Keith, who waved back and grinned. "You guys are alright" he said and wiped at his eyes. Lance suddenly downed his drink. "I think I'll need more than this to handle this"

Three days later, Lance was on his way to his date with Keith and walked down the same road on which they first met. They had exchanged phone numbers and were talking constantly. He was crushing so hard on Keith, it was almost unbearable. His friends were pestering him all the time about it, even though he prefered to keep it to himself. After the party, it was all in vain, of course. He still couldn't believe that Keith actually asked him out. That super hot motorcyclist Keith asked him, Lance, the super lame student, on a date. It was like paradise. As he walked, he listened to his favourite music to fight the growing anxiety. He closed his eyes occasionally and the picture of him and Keith kissing in front of a setting sun crept into his mind. He shook his head viciously and, keeping his eyes closed, walked face first into a street lamp. "Ouch!" He fell back on his butt and rubbed his forehead. Now, it was a bruise on a bruise. Slowly he opened his eyes and saw a shaking shadow looming above him. He took one of his earbuds out and instantly heard his beloved laughing. Next to him, with one foot on the kerbstone, stood Keith on his motorcycle, dressed in his leather suit and with his helmet on.  Lance blushed a deep red. This can't be, he thought, facepalmed, and winced, which made Keith laugh even more. "Are you okay?" he asked inbetween the laughing, and held his hand out for Lance to take. With a red face, he gently took it and let Keith lift him to his feet. Keith then took off his helmet and smiled at him. With a gloved hand, he wiped at his eyes. "Who did you look at this time?" He asked, grinning. Lance blushed again. He couldn't really tell him about his super lame sunset daydream, could he? He only shook his head. "I was... just daydreaming and my music was really loud so I didn't hear you either" he rambled, waving his hands frantically. "Yeah, sure" Keith said smiling, and added "This time, I was looking at you." He scratched his head sheepishly. Lance fell in love all over again. Keith cleared his voice. "Um, would you like to... go for a ride? After all, we're on a date, aren't we?" he said. "Uh...Yeah, sure! I always wanted to sit on a motorcycle!" Lance beamed and his eyes sparkled. Keith, with his now molten heart, opened the storage room of his seat and offered Lance a blue helmet. "I actually packed this one just for you, hoping I'd get you to ride with me" Keith said and smiled, blushing a little. "Oh my god" Lance whispered and took the helmet, staring at Keith, who was startled. "What?" he asked, scared. "You are way too cute" Keith blushed and his face turned dark red. He turned away. "Well, uh, get on, then!" Lance put on his helmet and clumsily climbed on the motorcycle behind Keith. "All set?" Keith asked and gunned the engine. Smiling, he added "You can put you arms around me, so you don't fall off" Lance loved to comply. He hugged Keith around his waist and snuggled into his back. Keith put on his helmet, let down his pitch black visor, and they took off.

Lance couldn't believe how short he drive to the café had been. He would have loved to sit behind Keith for all of eternity. The ride had been way too enjoyable for him. Sitting on the same motorcycle as his crush, in his super hot black suit. He silently added the suit to his list of turn-ons. They parked the motorcycle in the parking lot behind the café. Lance struggled to get off the vehicle and almost fell down again, while Keith gracefully swung his leg across it to get off. He took off his helmet and shook his head to fluff his hair that had been pressed into the famous helmet style. Lance was frozen and stared at him, but was pulled back to reality when Keith pointed at his helmet. Sheepishly, Lance took off his helmet and handed it Keith, who put it back into the storage room. "Thanks" Lance stuttered. Keith smiled. "No problem. If you want, I could take you home later" Then he froze, because Lance's face was all dark red again. Keith started to gesticulate wildly. "No, no, I didn't mean - well, maybe" he shook his head and face palmed. "I wanted to say that I could drive you home later" he said, out of breath, with a desperate look on his face. Lance started laughing. At last, the tables have turned, he thought. Keith's face started to twitch and he started to laugh a little too. Suddenly, Lance stopped. "What do you mean, 'maybe'?" Keith flinched. "Nothing!" he said, startled, and with a red face. With his face in his hands, he went to the entrance of the café,  a grinning Lance trailing right behind him. Their date went smoothly - a little too smoothly for Lance's usual dates, if he had any at all. To his surprise, Keith ordered a coffee, all black. Lance ordered what he always ordered. A hot cocoa. He felt a little childish, but the again, he didn't care. They also ordered cake. Lance tried to give Keith a bite of his cake on his fork, which, to his surprise, worked, and Keith returned the favour. After three hours of cake and hot drinks, they decided to wrap it up. Lance sat behind Keith again on the motorcycle and held onto him for what his life was worth. Shiro was right - Keith was speeding. But little did he know that Keith only liked the feeling of Lance hugging him as strongly as he did when Keith accelerated. After a short drive, they ended up in front of Lance's apartment complex. He got off and handed Keith the helmet again. "Thanks" he said and smiled. Should he ask whether Keith wanted a coffee? They just had coffee. Would that be too obvious? He really didn't want to say goodbye yet. Lance loved talking to Keith, and something told him that Keith liked it, too. "No problem" Keith answered, shaking his helmet hair again. Lance was too smitten with Keith. "Would you" he blurted, then stopped, his face a mixture of the most unhealthy white and the hottest red. "Would I?" Keith laughed a little, noticing Lance's inner turmoil. "Would you... would you..." Lance looked around the street. Aw man, he thought. This was it. Over. Gone. Before it had even started. "Would I?" Keith repeated again, grinning. He knew what Lance wanted to ask, but he enjoyed this way too much. "Like to... come in?" Lance finally asked, his voice only a silent whisper. Lovingly, Keith smiled at his shyness. "If you'll have me?" he said and got off of his motorcycle. "Yes!" Lance yelled, and added "We could order pizza. My treat. I mean, you took me home, remember?" He smiled and Keith returned it, grinning a sheepish smile. They left the motorcycle in the parking lot.

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