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yesimwriting · 3 years

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The Needs of Pain (part 2)

A/n since y’all liked part one!!

... i think i could make a part 3?? we’ll see lol

This is the LONGEST thing i’ve written on here wow,, and the smuttiest

Warnings: teasing, oral, unprotected sex (pls this is my first time writing full smut be gentle lol)

Exhaustion is an odd result of pain. I didn’t think I was that tired after the burn. I certainly didn’t feel sleepy while Kirigan cleaned my shoulder and brushed his soft lips and sharp teeth along my neck to distract me from the pain. Why am I even thinking of that? Of the way his breath felt against my skin, the way his tongue soothed any bites he left against my skin. I breathe out flatly.

Stop thinking of him. Stop thinking of him in that context--that’s why he did it. He enjoys getting under people’s skin, that’s why he’s always insulting the way I see the world. My hand reaches to my neck, touching my skin where I can still feel his lips on my skin, tracing the faint marks I had seen in the bathroom mirror.

I should have asked the healer to get rid of them before they fully formed, but the thought of showing them to anyone was too embarrassing to bear. I force my hand away, dropping it onto my pillow.

He had acted so strange today, he had been so blunt. It was a tactic. He wants to be in my head and I’m giving him what he wants. I sigh, rolling over and pulling my duvet further up my body. It’s too hot for this. Ugh. I kick the duvet off of my legs, letting my nightgown wrinkle up my body. Strong hands could pull the fabric up in a similar, yet much more euphoric way.

No. Who’s thoughts are these? The fact that I picture the same hands that dabbed at my burn earlier today has me questioning my sanity. I can’t sleep like this. Kirigan wanted to be in my head and now he is. Damn him. I can’t stand him which means I can never have him.

Desire has nothing to do with tolerance. The thought leaves my face warm and stomach twisted.

I sit up sharply, sliding out of bed tiredly. I’ll get some air and everything will be fine. The moon will clear my mind.

The Little Palace is strangely twisting at night, all long shadows and yellow lantern light. I slip out of my room quickly, but my thoughts are not immediately banished with the change of scenery. I must be ill. Infection must have set in regardless of my efforts and the healer sealed it beneath my skin and now it’s impacting me. Fever. I’m delusional with fever.

“I didn’t take you the kind for a late night trist.”

His voice leaves the hairs on the back of my neck standing like soldiers at attention. I manifested him the same way people manifest the devil. “Air.” My defense is childish. “I couldn’t sleep, so I thought I’d get some air.”

The sound of even footsteps leaves me frozen in place. “What keeps someone like you awake?” It’s like he can read through me. “Thoughts of me?”

He can never know. “Obviously.”

My sarcasm doesn’t go unnoticed, he lets out an almost humored breath. “Or perhaps it’s pain.”

The comment is so confusing I almost don’t realize he’s bringing up my shoulder injury. How had I let him see me so vulnerable? Why did he seem somewhat concerned in his own way?

“My shoulder’s perfectly fine.” Good. A normal direction for this conversation to head. “It took the Healer all of two minutes.”

The touch on my shoulder is so sudden I almost jump. Kirigan doesn’t shy away at that, fingers firmly brushing down the skin. “It feels the same.”

I could scream. His strange observation means nothing to me, but the implication is enough to drive me mad. The implication that he knows my skin well enough to be able to judge whether the healed skin feels different is sickening. I’m tired of this.

I turn on my heels, all of my tiredness and irritation twisting in me. “Even if it didn’t, it’s none of your concern.”

“I didn’t realize you were extra irritable when you’re tired.”

Every conversation with him leaves me feeling petulant. “I’m not tired.” I cross my arms, keep my expression set. “I just--I wanted to get some air.”

“Hm.” He takes a step forward, preparing to close the small distance I’d managed to create between us. “And why is that?”

The question leaves me irritated in an odd way. A flat way. There’s a narcissistic entitlement in that question. An entitlement to my thoughts. I shrug. “I hoped it’d make me tired.”

Kirigan draws his eyebrows together, curiosity and something resembling amusement playing at his expression. “If you’d like to be tired, I think I know a few ways to be of assistance.”

A faint, aggravating warmth comes to my face. Not only did my lie earn me a ridiculous innuendo, it’s also trapped me in a corner I cannot escape. Healing from the burn had left me pathetically drowsy. There’s no way he can’t see through me, a tired haze has to be visible on my face. My eyelids feel weighted and I’m too distracted by my deep longing for sleep to hold onto irritation.

“I’m sure I’ll manage on my own.” The words are not meant to be a challenge, just a way to dismiss him. I don’t think he takes them that way.

He draws his eyebrows together, eyes threatening to lose that curious quality. Kirigan steps forward, I step back blankly, desperate to keep enough distance to keep what’s left of my wits about me. He ignores my reaction, taking another step forward. I take another step back. My back touches the wall. I am a mouse and he’s an excited cat.

“You don’t have to,” his voice is too low, too intimate, “I’m not sure that’s something you want to understand.”

My chin raises just slightly, a silent protest. “Dependency is a fatal flaw.”

“So is desire,” his reply is much too quick. “Desire is worse, because one can resist dependency based on pride...but desire, that is something that one sacrifices for.”

Maybe if I was less tired I’d bother to interpret his words a little more. But all I can focus on is his tone--the quality of it. “You sound heavy.” My voice is as light as the night breeze I was craving moments ago. “But you always sound heavy.” It’s the wistful observation of someone slowly disappearing. “At least you’re pretty,” I muse, falling more and more distant by the second.

Something soft breaks across his features, his lips quirking. “Pretty?”

I rest my back against the wall comfortably, eyes shutting without permission. “I’m sure I’ll regret that comment in a moment.”

He stays silent, but his presence does not disappear. I can’t tell if I’m glad for it. The warm touch on my shoulder startles me out of my drowsy trance. Panic has me ready to jump off the wall, but Kirigan brushes his thumb up and down my shoulder. His touch sets any skin that comes in contact with him aflame. I shouldn’t find the gesture so comforting. My eyes flutter shut again, my body relaxing against the wall. When my protest dies out before it begins, Kirigan shifts closer. I’m confused, but too at peace to answer. Something velvety and warm brushes against my collar. Soft and warm and electric. He’s kissing my skin again.

My lips part in hopes of arguing, but when his teeth graze the skin he already marked earlier I’m gone. My eyes shut again, but this time it’s different. Pleasure and drowsiness clear me of all inhibitions as his touch becomes more and more assured. I let him test me, his mouth moving against any and all exposed skin. I don’t even stop him when I feel his hands graze the hem of my nightgown, wrinkling it the way I imagined earlier.

“Kirigan.” I need to find my strength, but what’s the point of strength when his touch leaves me so warm? The only acknowledgement of my protest he offers me is the lingering squeeze of my thigh before his long fingers begin to graze towards the inside of my thighs. I have no choice but to let his lips brush up my neck, his teeth grazing my skin the way they did earlier today. “Kirigan.” I try to sound firmer, but he destroys the rest of my sentence before I have the chance to get it out. His teeth nip the base of my neck, ruining my protest for a second time.

Maybe if I was less tired I’d be able to fight him off a little better, but I’m so drowsy I had trouble thinking before he started touching me. My eyes shut in both bliss and exhaustion. His thumb presses into my hip. Something in me stalls as his fingers brush the hem of my underwear--testing me, challenging me. I open my eyes on instinct, but he remains unbothered, slipping his thumb beneath the only fabric that divides us in order to better grip my hip.

I stiffen because of how badly I want to melt. This is bad. This is insane. We’re in a hallway in the middle of the night and he’s General Kirigan. Whatever attraction I feel is another tactic to manipulate me.

“We need to stop.” The command is weak, my voice as dry as my resolve.

He angles his head in order to regard me a little better. His expression is one of mock confusion as he smirks. Actually smirks. “Stop what?” False innocence drips from his voice as he leans towards me, expression amused as his lips near my own. “I haven’t even started yet.” My eyes widen, something that amuses him. “Y/n?”

I’m left on edge. I’m left wanting. My lips part flatly, but words feel so distant. “Yes?”

“What happened earlier?” His voice is the kind of sinful that’s meant to coax. Kirigan brushes his thumb across my shoulder, eyes watching mine cautiously. “How did you get burned?”

I push against the sultry quality of his voice. “I told you--an accident.”

“Hm.” His eyebrows draw together in a surprisingly soft way. I stare at him freely, but he ignores my gaze, eyes locked on my newly healed skin. Is he truly that concerned? “Whose accident?”

I swallow once. “My own.” He still isn’t looking at me. “I’m not exactly the most coordinated person, you’ve witnessed my clumsiness yourself.”

Kirigan is not convinced. Perhaps he will never fully buy my partial lie. His grip on me hardens. Restraint. I may not be able to win against his paranoia, but I might be able to distract him. Cautiously, I move one hand forward, touching the hand that’s on my shoulder. I hesitate. Touching him without prompting almost feels too intimate. I’m being ridiculous. I brush my fingers against the back of his palm, letting my touch trail up his forearm.

“Y/n.” My name borders on a warning.

I suppress a smile, playing into my sleepiness as I tilt my head to the side. “Yes?”

He doesn’t reply, expression tightening as my hand snares around his wrist, pulling it off my shoulder with more care than I thought myself capable of. The intensity of his gaze is enough to burn me. I turn my full attention to his hand. I’d never admit this out loud, but this isn’t the first time I’ve thought about how objectively attractive his hands are. I kiss each of his knuckles slowly, brushing my lips against his skin tentatively.

To my surprise, he allows my indulgence. I glance at him through my lashes. Kirigan’s eyes are shut, expression bordering on pained. “Kirigan?”

He opens his eyes but his expression does not ease. His other hand leaves my thigh, grabbing the low collar of my nightgown with such a fierce speed it takes me a second to realize what’s happening. He pulls me away from the wall in a way that borders on violent.

“I don’t know who you’re protecting, but I guarantee you they’re not worth it.” The words are acidic. He’s seething. “I grow tired of your resistance.”

If he hadn’t transformed into something so untamed, I might have had enough gall to tell him I grow tired of being toyed with. I say nothing, instead I take in the abrasiveness of his anger, the tension of his grip on the thin fabric that clothes me. I am unflinching in my assessment in the most tired way possible, eyes struggling not to shut and body desperate to rest, but even more desperate for him. His eyes stare into mine, searching for something I am too far gone to offer. He must realize my sleepiness is genuine because he soon drops his gaze, taking his time in analyzing the even rise and fall of my chest as well as the hint of cleavage his grip on my nightgown is exposing. Pure heat finds itself in my face, chest, and worst of all---core. His staring lacks any shame.

Kirigan parts his lips as if to speak but then instead takes a moment to lick them. The thought of his tongue in relation to lips only makes the burning in me worse. It’s practically an ache. A needy one.

“I grow weary of your lack of understanding.”

Understanding? “What is there to understand?”

His head angles itself to one side but he doesn’t meet my gaze. The hold he has on me loosens just enough so that his hold on me is no longer taut. That should not disappoint me the way it does. I wait patiently, ignoring the bundle of unexplained nerves in my stomach as best as I can. Something strange colors his features when he finally looks at me again, something almost vulnerable.

“I brought you here.” He sounds farther from me than ever. “I…” His exhale is gentle, but his expression is quick to harden. “Who are you so willing to protect?”

I must be really tired because his voice sounds like it borders on heart ache. If I didn’t fear Arthur’s safety I’d tell Kirigan everything if it meant his pain would dissipate. I never thought Kirigan’s potential pain would bother me, but now that I’ve seen him look stricken by something so weighted--now that I’ve seen the way he wears pain--I don’t want to be the one to give him that. I want to be the one to give him some kind of sanctuary. The thought leaves me with a desire to flea.

“Will you just believe me when I say it’s no one?” In a way that’s the truth. Arthur is not particularly significant unless you’re a young Grisha female with a desire for heart ache. “No one worth mentioning at least.”

He’s quick to retighten his hold on my nightgown, leaving the fabric taut and more of me exposed. “You being desperate to protect them makes them worth interest.” A different response than I expected.

My lips thin. “Only because it was a small accident. They don’t deserve to be punished over the briefest loss of focus.”

I take his silence as an indicator that he is considering my words. His free hand finds my shoulder as he pulls me even closer to him by the fabric he’s gripping. “And if I were to revoke the threat of punishment?” His voice is the definition of temptation, low and promising and coddling me with its sinfulness. I still as Kirigan leans forward so that his lips are practically on my ear. “Then would you tell me? If I released you from the binds of your nobility?” My lips part but I have no words prepared. Before I can think of what to say, his lips graze the side of my jaw before his teeth nip at the end of my ear. “Tell me just to humor me.”

The command doesn’t make sense to me, but from his lips it feels important. “You won’t hurt them for what happened?”

His voice seems rougher than before, “Would that make a difference?”

“It would make all the difference.” I don’t like the honesty of my words.

Kirigan allows one hand to trail down my waist--a gesture I consider obscenely intimate when paired with the soft brush of his lips on my collar. “I already know who.” His voice is a dark hum. “I was always going to know one way or another--but it’s good to know you would have told me.”

My stomach lurches, dread pouring into me like tar. Before fear can force me to take action, Kirigan begins to leave open mouth kisses from the top of my jaw to the bottom of my neck, taking his time to assault any spot of skin with his tongue that he wants. This reminds me too much of earlier--touches meant to distract from pain with the use of pleasure.

“Are you--” His mouth is now on my collar, threatening to destroy my question. “Are you going to hurt him?”

At that Kirigan straightens. The sudden lack of contact leaves me cold. I shouldn't be thinking of him. Of his touch. “I’m curious,” he draws out each syllable, delighting in my nerves, “Would you bear his punishment?”

I’m not sure. I hate that. I haven’t known Arthur for that long, and while he’s kind, he also seems to see all women as replaceable. That isn’t reason for him to endure Kirigan’s punishment but I don’t know him well enough to just blindly agree to that. I loathe myself for not being noble enough to take Arthur’s punishment instantly.

“What kind of punishment?”

Kirigan’s expression twists into a greedy smile. He pushes me back easily, pressing me into the wall with more confidence than ever. I’m silent in my confusion until he presses himself against me and I feel something hard and bulging press into where I’m neediest. I stifle a gasp of surprise and something similar to pleasure. “I’m sure I could think of something for you.” I’d care more about my confusion if hot need wasn’t flooding my thoughts and my body with undeniable desperation. “I haven’t even spoken to him.” I exhale, untrusting relief desperate to escape me. Kirigan is quick to lean forward, lips brushing my ear as he prepares to whisper. “I’m more likely to harm him because he has your favor than anything else.”

Warmth burns my face. “He doesn’t--he’s not exactly the one that holds my favor.”

The heat of his breath adds to my burning as he presses his bulge into my core again. “And who does?”

I’m not sure what he considers favor, but if it has anything to do with wanting he wins. But he can never know that. “There are some contenders, but no one yet.”

His hand moves off my hip and nears my throat. “Would it be too bold to assume I’m on the short list?”

He’s two steps away from taking me in an open hallway, I doubt he finds much bold. “Do you want to be?”

Kirigan’s hand tightens on my throat. “I’ve made it clear from the beginning what I want.” His words are lethal and each syllable has him restricting my airflow a little more. Something in me must be broken because my neediness only worsens. “I brought you here because I see all that you could be. Forget being a Saint, we could be gods.” The sentiment is so raw it’s almost harder to bear than his tight grip on my neck. He leans close again, his scent only adding to my budding lightheadedness. “Say the word, and I could have you praising me like I’m already a god.” My stomach knots in both nerves and insatiable hunger. “Though I’m the one that would be doing the worshipping.”

My resolve is shattered, leaving me broken and twisting. He releases his hold on my neck in order to move his hand beneath my chin. There is nothing gentle about the way he jerks my head forward, forcing me to look into his eyes. Something about the look he gives me has me melting. His eyes are searching for something in me.

He must find whatever he’s looking for because I feel his touch against my heat, fingers pressing against fabric. I bite my lip on instinct, suppressing the sound of my undoing. Kirigan’s eyes never leave mine as the hand on my chin moves to brush against my bottom lip.

“I can only give you what you want if you tell me what that is.”

He exhales slowly, pressing his thumb against my lip downwards. My mouth parts on instinct, something that he takes well. His thumb enters my mouth slowly, taking in my reaction as I taste his skin on my tongue. Kirigan pulls his thumb away from my tongue slowly, a thin string of saliva connecting him to my mouth. With one swift tug, his free hand pulls the only fabric separating him from where I want him most down my thighs. His expression reveals nothing as his thumb, still wet with my saliva, is pressed against my core. His touch teases my clit, just barely brushing where I need him most. The whine that escapes me is so desperate I’m ashamed I can’t help it.

“So wet already,” his appraisal is gentle, the praise whispered against my throat as his lips brush against my neck. “So wet, so needy that you’d let me take you in this hallway and I’ve hardly touched you.” His finger presses further into me. I let out another pathetic breath. “A pity, someone like you--so painfully under cared for.” I’m reduced to nothing by his words and touch. “What I’d give to undue you here, against the wall--I’d have you crying so loudly everyone would know that I’ve claimed you, that I’ve made you mine.” Before I can reflect on his words, he steps back, pulling my underwear back up as quickly as he yanked it down.

I let out an instinctual whine. My hand moves to his arm, grabbing him like he’s the only thing keeping me tethered to the earth. “What--”

Kirigan squeezes my hand, a predator’s smile on his lips. “I want to feel all of you,” his hand squeezes my hip, “I can’t exactly do that against a wall, dove of mine,” he leans forward, lips brushing against my jaw in a way that leaves me chilled and melting at the same time, “At least not the first time.”

His whisper forces my breathing to hitch, a fact that he notices with an amused look as his thumb brushes against my collar. Kirigan pulls me away from the wall easily. Even the causal touch feels electric against my skin.

The walk towards my room is tense, his hands never leaving me as if he’s aware of how necessary it is to keep me distracted to ward off my better sense. When we reach my door, Kirigan opens it like it’s his. Entitled. Typical.

I step into the room, his touch lingering on my arm. A brief shyness pushes itself into my chest. I had let Kirigan touch me in a public space and lead me back to my room. The door closes. I don’t turn.

Kirigan’s hand squeezes my shoulder. “Shy, now?” His question is teasing, rekindling the fire beneath my skin as he places an open mouth kiss on my neck. He plays with the thin strap of my nightgown, pushing it off my shoulder. He kisses down my neck, collarbone, and shoulder. My inhibitions are melted away again. “When your breathing stalls like that,” his whisper is enough to elicit a desperate shudder, “I am left desperate.”

He leans forward, mouth trailing down my chest, coming dangerously close to my breasts. The electric current of his touch is all consuming and addicting. I press my back into his chest. His hands are the opposite of shy, touching me everywhere except where I’m most desperate. Kirigan’s hand places itself between my thighs, using his thumb to tease my entrance. I let out a needy sound. And then he retracts his hand, grabbing my shoulders and turning me in one swift motion.

“Kirigan.”

His eyes are dark, clouded by something I don’t understand but am too aware that I reciprocate. “Tell me that I have your favor.” His words are taut, bordering on snapping. Kirigan’s grip on me tightens hard enough to bruise, an assertive need taking over him. “That you want me.”

Desire, pride, and rationality twist in my stomach, leaving me too distracted to form words. My gaze drops to the ground on instinct, something Kirigan clearly finds unacceptable because he’s quick to grab my chin and force my eyes to meet his.

I swallow once, courage withering beneath the look in his eyes. It’s as twisted as a spindling shadow, but the look is fierce admirational, appreciation so deep I could drown in it. It scares and consols me all at once. “I want you.” There’s something pained about such powerful emotion. I loathe and am empowered by it all at once. “I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anything.” The words leave my throat scorching with their sincerity.

As soon as the words leave me, he’s closing the distance between us, the slightest exhale of tension leaving his lips before they meet mine, prepared to devour me. I reciprocate his actions on instinct alone. There is no hesitation, no space, and yet it is not enough. Not enough and yet I don’t know how to be closer. But Kirigan does. One of his hands cup my cheek, coaxing me towards him as if I could possibly have the will to leave him. He steps forward, guiding me to step back. I obey fluidly until I feel something hit the back of my legs. It’d startle me if I wasn’t so consumed by his touch.

His mouth begins to move away from my skin. I chase after him, desperate to keep him touching me. He stops me by placing a hand on my shoulder, a warning about my neediness. I pout, but as he studies me I pant. Maybe the excuse for air was a good idea. I don’t fight the uneasiness of my breathing as I hold Kirigan’s gaze. He regards me with a patience I consider unbearable, taking in the determined look in his eyes, my swollen lips, disheveled hair, and the top of my night gown that’s half falling off.

It’s in this moment I realize how much more vulnerable than him I am.

If Kirigan notices any shift in me, he doesn’t mention it. Instead, he adjusts his hand on my cheek, his thumb brushing the hot skin gently. “You are everything.” His voice is cracking glass. “Everything that’s good, at least.”

Maybe he did notice my initial reaction because I am no longer certain that I am the one that’s most vulnerable. “You’re better than you think.” I only say this because it would only weigh on me more to stay silent. “I see it and you don’t want me to.”

His hand continues to stroke my cheek. “I want you to see all of me.” The heavy beating of my heart seems to stall in my chest. Kirigan drops his hand before grasping the hem of my nightgown. He pulls the fabric upwards easily, bundling the fabric above my hip. “I want you to…” He exhales flatly, pulling the fabric upwards even more. Nerves flood my stomach as he leans towards me, kissing down my jaw. “To know me,” he whispers against my throat.

I am nothing but uneven breaths as he mouth moves down my chest, stalling only once he’s reached my breasts. He pushes me forward easily, guiding me so that I’m laying on my bed. He’s quick to move over me, kissing up my neck as he adjusts so that I’m against the headboard.

When he pulls away again, I’m left pouting. He grins, fueled by my disappointment. “Don’t worry,” he breathes, fingers hooking around the waistband of my underwear before tugging it down my legs easily, “I’m nowhere near done with you yet.”

Being so exposed has my doubts flooding back, but Kirigan is quick to fight against my instincts in a way only he seems capable of. He squeezes the inside of my upper thigh before leaning down, pressing his mouth onto the skin his fingers just touched. His kisses here are meant to leave me even more desperate, each nip and fleeting pass of his tongue is lazy yet intentional. I am incapable of doing else besides letting out pathetic whines.

He ignores where I need him most, kissing up my thigh, across my lower stomach, and then down my other thigh. Kirigan continues the pattern across my skin, ignoring any pleas I swallow my pride to give. He is not rushed by my words or cries or the occasional desperate adjustment of my hips.

Kirigan lifts his head slightly, releasing my inner thigh with an obscene ‘pop’. “Patience.” His fingers trail up my thigh and over my core, teasing my entrance with his lithe fingers. “Unless you’re ready to beg?”

It’s a challenge, like everything else. The urge to give him my pride to satisfy the electric desire I’m not sure I’m capable of bearing. But then I note his tense hold on my thigh. A sign of restraint, of want.

“And if I want you to beg for me?” I don’t know where the words come from, but they charge the room with potential.

Something strange crosses his fingers before his lips tilt upwards in a dark way. “Would you like the strength of that? To have someone like me powerless before you?” My face warms. Kirigan leaves a lingering kiss on my thigh before he moves off the bed. I sigh at the loss of contact, but my tired neediness stalls at the sound of his belt coming undone. “I want to see you on your knees.” I sit up carelessly, desperate to obey him. I’m kneeling in front of him in an instant, taking in his length. The size of it has me gaping. “Open your mouth.”

I take the order more eagerly than I should, but I make no move to take him. This is just another challenge. I keep my eyes on his as I stick my tongue out before licking the bottom of his member all the way up to his tip. The sound he lets out is pure sin. I lick his tip slowly, each motion of my tongue is strategic as I finally place him in my mouth. I hollow my cheeks, moving up and down slowly.

The pace is not enough for him, he grips my hair from my scalp as he thrusts into my mouth. The motion is more powerful than I expected and I am left unable to breathe. My slight gag does the opposite of discourage him, he repeats the motion again and again, pushing himself into me until I can feel him in my throat.

The sounds he lets out are a chorus to me, but it’s not enough. I need more control, I need a way to make him beg. I raise a hand, wrapping it around the base that I cannot fit into my mouth. I stroke him once slowly, making a point as I try to push myself back in order to make him want me more.

He groans again. I make a point of pushing myself off of him. Precum protrudes his tip. I lick it off of him slowly. I lick up and down his member in the smallest way possible.

“Y/n,” the restraint in his voice fuels my teasing, “Tease me and you’ll still be overwhelmed by want when the sun rises.”

A pout tugs at my lips before I open my mouth again, taking Kirigan to my limit. He lets me set the pace of my bobs at first, but then he becomes desperate, holding me in place by the roots of my hair as he moans and thrusts into me without restraint. He ignores my choking as he continues until he throws his head back, letting out a quick praise of my name.

He finishes in my mouth and I swallow all he offers me greedly. I back off my knees slowly, throat burning as his member leaves my mouth. “On the bed.” He’s turned into something insatiable. “Now.”

I move back to my bed, laying in the same position as before. He takes his time approaching me. When he finally gets to me, he kisses my thighs easily. I let out a small breath before something that’s pure pleasure meets my core. His tongue laps upwards lazily, grazing my clit but not quite touching it. My hips thrust towards his face, but with hand he holds me down. A coil in my stomach continues to build as he angles himself more purposefully, tongue finally taking care of my clit. My gasps become less and less reasonable as he continues to lap at all that my body has to offer. The coil tightens, I see stars--and then, like cruelty personified, he pulls away. His absence leaves me ready to cry out.

My desperation only fuels Kirigan as he lines himself with my entrance. Concern twists my stomach as I consider how full my mouth felt when he was in me. I expect some level of warning, but he thrusts into me with no warning. I let out a pathetic cry, but that means nothing to him as he pulls out just to thrust into me with full force again.

“Only I can hurt you,” he demands, thrusting into me as I call out his name. My eyes water at the sensation of such fullness, pleasure and pain combining themselves in a way that leaves me incapable of thought. “Your tears,” he muses, one hand moving to wipe at a tear rolling down my cheek, “Are mine.”

His thrusts become more and more brutal, less and less even. Each movement of his body in mine leaves me begging for more and less at the same time. He continues until the coil in my stomach tenses to the point of breaking.

“Kirigan,” I manage, voice far away, “I’m going t--”

“I know,” he offers, “finish with me, dove.” His hand finds my throat, adding the slightest bit of restrained pressure. “And do not hold in your cries.”

Two more sharp thrusts have us both finishing, calling out for each other as we try to draw out the high of our orgasms together.

We stay intertwined like that for longer than we should, but then Kirigan stands. I envy his ability to do so. I don’t call for him even though I still don’t want to be alone here. A moment later, I hear him approach. I’m too drowsy to ask what he’s doing as a damp towel is wiped against my forehead and inner thighs.

When he’s finished cleaning me, some raw emotion settles in my chest. “Are you leaving?”

Kirigan hesitates. “Not if you don’t want me to.”

I roll over, the motion leaves my body aching. Kirigan accepts my invitation, crawling beneath my sheets and adjusting our bodies so that he can rest his hand on my back.

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@ive-died-everday-waiting-for-you @xxaerynxx @ralesera @tea-effect

@tranquillitymoon

#shadow and bone #shadow and bone x reader #shadow and bone show #shadow and bone imagine #general kirigan #general kirigan x reader #general kirigan imagine #general kirigan x you #general kirigan x reader smut #grishaverse #grisha #grishaverse x reader #grishaverse imagine #grishaverse x you #the darkling #the darkling x reader #the darkling smut #the darkling x you #the darkling imagine

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saiki-k-innie · 3 years

Note

MAEMAE!

An AU where Todoroki gets hit with a quirk which divides him into two people. The red hair Shoto is the flirty sassy half and the white one is the cold (ukwim) Todoroki (see what I did there? 'Shoto' and 'Todoroki',,,,,,,sorry). You don't know how it happened; you were literally besides him when it happened but ???

So now you gotta deal with it and watch out for the Todoroki's so Endeavor doesn't notice and skins everyone alive.

Ruth ur gonna kill me- IN A GOOD WAY i've just never written Todoroki before and this is going to be a challenge. I'm eager to do it though, I have seen so much fanart where Todoroki has been split into two people--- [also yes i see what you did there-- very clever ;) ] anyway, lets see how this goes!

I’m going to do a full on fic without headcanons because that feels more natural for this request.

Part of a Whole

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Anime: My Hero Academia Character(s): Shoto Todoroki, Eijiro Kirishima, and Katsuki Bakugou Legend (y/n = your name): gender neutral reader, quirk not mentioned, Pro Hero AU Word Count: 1.4k Warnings: none, slight cursing, flirty Todoroki Notes: OUT OF CHARACTER TODOROKI!!! Yeah i’ve never written him before and now writing him split in half? DAMN ITS HARD! I’m wracking my brain trying to remember his mannerisms and behavior, then polarize it.

I will also maybe redo Todoroki’s banner because OH MY GOD i hate it so much and its off center im going to cry but i don’t have time to fix it rn

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆

Endeavor is going to kill me.

You stand speechless. The battle was continuing around you, but it fell on deaf ears. Mouth hanging slightly open, you look at Todoroki. Well, Todorokis now. You blink. Nope, still two of them.

Fuck.

Todoroki had split in two. One sported a full head of fiery red hair and looked like he was ready to take on the world. The other had beautiful white locks hiding downcast eyes. Your gaze lingered on the second Todoroki. He slowly raised his snowy head and his soft grey eyes pierced your skull. The amount of hatred that came from his eyes- you knew it wasn’t because of you, but it was enough to snap you out of your daze.

You whip your head around and check the surroundings. Nobody had noticed, but you couldn’t spot what had caused the split. Your partners look like they have the situation handled relatively well. They rounded up the villains, but of the ones that were caught, you didn’t think any of them did it.

"OI, RED RIOT” you call out to your former classmate, now pro hero. When you have his attention, you continue; “SHOTO AND I NEED TO GO, LIKE RIGHT NOW. I WILL EXPLAIN LATER, CAN YOU HANDLE THIS?”

He smiles and hits his fists together, “Of course, y/n!!!! You did great, go do what you need to do!”

“Don’t think that you will get out of paperwork you extra!!!!!” you hear Dynamight yell over to you.

Shoving the ‘rokis out of sight, you laugh and assure Bakugou that you will be doing your fair share. You take off the top layer of your costume and use it to cover the firey Todoroki’s hair and shoulders.

“We need to get out of here,” you tell the twins quickly, but they were still getting a grip on their new forms.

“Oh, y/n~~ so eager to leave the fight? That’s not very heroic... </3″ the redhead teases while you fix the cloak around his head. He leans closer to you, just centimeters away from your face. “So desperate to be alone with me... I guess I can make an exception...”

You do a double-take. What. The. Hell. Was Todoroki... flirting with you??? You give the garment a rough tug to make sure it was secure and push him away. “We don’t have time for this. Let’s go.” You look past the now-pouting Todoroki over to the silver one. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

Brushing off his coldness, you start walking into a nearby alleyway. They both follow you, but the ice king keeps his distance. The other, you couldn’t shake if you tried. Lucky you.

“Y/n~~” the redhead savored your name like honey right off the comb. “You have such a beautiful name, I could get used to saying it more often ;)”

You hear a scoff from behind you. Biting back laughter, you navigate the alleyways and side streets, heading for your nearby apartment. As you walk, you adjust your hero costume and tend to your wounds. The twins were miraculously unscathed.

You feel a pair of silver eyes on you as you struggle to dress your injuries. Without a word, you feel his cold hands on you and you stop in your tracks. He doesn’t look at you once while he’s helping you with the medical supplies he carries in his hero costume. As soon as he’s finished, he started walking away. It reminded you of how he was when you first met him. Smiling, you continued on.

What could have caused this? you think to yourself. You retrace the events of the battle in your head. There were five villains, all very powerful. Kirishima and you were dealing with two of them, but trying to keep the civilians safe at the same time. Todoroki and Bakugou had taken three of them head-on. It was so hectic, that you just had to trust your teammates that they would be okay, you had so much to do. It was when Todoroki had been split from the group that it happened.

“It was a mistake to try to take down the top heroes,” you chided the villain you had subdued. “What a shame, what a shame...” When you had finished tying the villain up, you signaled Red Riot that you had finished up. You were running to help the others since you had taken your opponent down relatively easily when a flash of light caught your eye. You switched directions, remembering that Todoroki was fighting in that area last you checked.

Avoiding the debris that was falling around you thanks to Dynamight, you quickly found the source of the light. There, behind an overturned bus shelter, were the Todorokis. They both looked dazed but were slowly regaining consciousness. You were so taken by the situation that you forgot that you were fighting villains. Your objective immediately turned to helping them instead of the fight around you. All you could think about is what will happen to you if Endeavor finds out.

Looking back, you should have assessed the situation quicker and identified the quirk user before tending to the twins. Todoroki is tough. It will take more than a strange quirk to really hurt him, but you had always been protective of him. Something in the way his eyes gleamed when he used his fire and the tone he would talk in when he was serious. Well, more serious than he was normally. He had always been there for you and you were there for him, whether he wanted you or not.

You deduced that this was the effect of a quirk, and it should wear off soon. You estimated that the longest it could stay like this was a week. It would probably wear off in his sleep, but you were curious to see what it looked like wearing off.

Looking back at the twins, who were now chatting with each other. Well, it was more like the redhead was doing all the talking. He had draped himself over the silver-eyed boy and was talking about a new topic every sentence. The icy boy felt your gaze on him and looked up at you. His expression may have seemed indifferent to anyone looking, but you could read his body language like a book. He was practically screaming at you to get the other off of him. You smile and laugh at the situation. He rolls his eyes and slides his foot forward and sends ice in your direction. You jump out of the way and stick out your tongue playfully. If it wasn’t for your training with him, you would have gotten hit. It was just like old times. That sure was Todoroki, albeit a lot more guarded. and, well, cold.

The other noticed your interaction and perked up. “Hey, y/n, me and myself were talking” he nudges the other, hoping he would recognize his joke, but the pale boy just kept walking. Rolling his teal eyes, he continued, “You can call me Shoto like you usually do when we are alone, but call him Todoroki so you can address us specifically!!!” He runs up to you and gets uncomfortably close and whispers “~~ I’ve always liked how my name sounds coming out of your pretty little mouth.”

You swing your fist at him but he catches your wrist and uses your momentum to pull you closer into a hug. He lifts your chin up and says in a sultry voice, “we can’t have that, can we darling?” he tuts and was about to say something else when Todoroki separated you two and flipped his other self onto the concrete. Shoto surprisingly didn’t fight back but just hopped up onto his feet and continued talking to his twin like nothing happened.

Eventually, you find the back entrance to your apartment building. You remove the firey boy from your arm, blocking out all of his advances as you get closer to the door. He huffs as you punch in the passcode to the door. Todoroki had been over to your apartment a million times, you paired up pretty frequently, not to mention you two were really close. You had been since high school.

You hold the door open for the silvery twin, and as he walks past you could feel the temperature go down, but not from his quirk. This was going to be fun.

And by fun, you meant torturous.

#mha #my hero academia #bnha #boku no hero academia #boku no hero imagines #bnha fanfic #bnha fic #mha fanfic #mha fanfiction #mha x reader #todoroki #todoroki shoto #shoto todoroki #todoroki x y/n #todoroki x reader #mha todoroki

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shycoconutt · 3 years

Text

I Found My Light: Chapter 3 (Kakashi x Reader)

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

A/n: Sorry for the delay! Wasn't sure where I wanted to go with this but it came to me in the shower (as all good ideas do). Hope you enjoy it! This story is far from over.

Summary: You attend the group training session where, to your dismay, Kakashi is in attendance.

Word Count: 1800

Warnings: fem!reader, SFW (but won't be in future chapters), violence, angst

Fanart!: Please check out this fanart inspired by this fic by the talented @szamasza <3

If this training session goes like any other typical training session, you are in for a long one. Training usually begins around mid-day and lasts several hours until everyone feels like they’re on the brink of death. Then, when face down in the dirt, Asuma tries to convince everyone to head to the bar on the main street that gives discounts to shinobi. After a few minutes of resounding I’m-too-tireds and maybe-next-times, everyone gives in and spends the remainder of the night into the next morning crammed in a booth getting absolutely sloshed.

This night was like any other night, except not because your anxiety was at an all-time high.

Kakashi showed up about an hour into training, aloof as ever. You were deep in your spar with Genma when you saw him out of the corner of your eye. Genma must have noticed your distraction, as he didn’t hesitate to spit his senbon at you with full force. Luckily you were refocused in less than a second and caught it between your fingers.

“Nice try, buddy,” you teased him, “It’s going to take more than that to throw me off.”

Genma raised his eyebrow at you. “I don’t know, (y/n), you seemed a little distracted,” he teased.

And just like that, you were back at each other’s throats.

Kakashi ended up finding a spot sparing Gai. Typical of him, as usually Gai is the only one who can keep up ability-wise. Although, Kakashi hasn’t seen how much you’ve grown and a part of you is hoping you’ll get a chance at him. You still have yet to use your chakra sword-whip, your most brutal weapon, in front of your fellow shinobi. It’s remained in its sheath strapped across your back, waiting to be used against the most brutal opponent.

“Alright, alright,” Genma pants, curled up on the ground holding his left side where you just landed a forceful kick, “Please show me some mercy, (y/n).”

“Only if you admit that I’m a better shinobi than you in every way,” you say smugly, crossing your arms across your chest.

“Yes, you are a better shinobi than me in every way. You're stealthy, quick, strong, intelligent, adaptable, beautiful, and, most of all, kind. Which is why you’ll give me my senbon back.” He pleas, still laying on the ground with his hand out to you.

“Mmm, fine,” you tease, pulling the senbon from your hair where you used it to hold it in a bun. “It does make a great hair accessory though. I think I might have to get one for myself.” You help Gemma back up to his feet and stick the metal needle back into his mouth.

He gives you a smirk, still grasping onto your hand. “You should see my collection. I have at least two hundred of these,” he boasts, taking the senbon out of his mouth to twirl it in his fingers. “I‘ll make sure to pick one out for you.”

“I would be honored.” You smile warmly, squeezing his hand.

At this moment you could sense a set of eyes staring at you from the other side of the training field. Well, one eye, you should say, as Kakashi is staring directly at you while he holds Gai in a headlock. His expression is unreadable as his eyes flicker from you to Genma and then back to you. You could swear that you saw his shoulders drop a bit before he brought his attention back to Gai who is currently struggling to breathe in his grasp.

“Ka-ka-shi-ple-ase-le-t-me-go-” Gai gasps, holding onto Kakashi’s arms currently wrapped around his neck. Kakashi’s eyes widen when his attention is brought back to his opponent and he immediately releases Gai from his grasp. With a thud, Gai drops to the floor and sucks in one big breath.

“Are you trying to kill him?!” Kurenai yells as she runs to tend to Gai who is sitting on the ground rubbing his neck. Everyone else on the field stops what they’re doing when they notice the commotion and circle around Gai wondering what happened.

“I’m sorry-” Kakashi starts, hands back in his pockets still staring at Gai wide-eyed.

“Apologies are unnecessary my rival!” Gai cuts in, still gasping for air. “Flashes of my youth came to me as I was falling out of consciousness. It reminded me how much there is to live for. I thank you for the near-death experience, Kakashi!” Gai quickly recovers and stands up, dusting the dirt from his green jumpsuit. “You win this round, but I wouldn’t get used to it!” Gai challenges, holding out a hand for Kakashi to shake.

“Yeah, sure Gai.” Kakashi agrees sheepishly, accepting Gai’s hand.

“Damn, Kakashi.” Genma starts, a smug smile pulling at his mouth. “The Anbu made you a pretty ruthless fighter, huh? I didn’t realize friend-killer Kakashi applied to us too.”

You could hear everyone in the circle try to hold in their gasps after registering Genma’s statement. Kakashi’s whole body stiffened and you could see the appearance of a grimace form under his mask. He is visibly uncomfortable. Yet, instead of looking at Genma who just addressed him, he is looking at you.

You suck in a breath, feeling terrible for Kakashi. Rumors spread, nicknames are formed, it’s all a part of being a shinobi. But “friend-killer Kakashi” is on a whole other level of petty.

That jerk.

“Are you fucking kidding me, Genma?” You turn to him and yell. “What makes you think you can say shit like that?”

“Oh c’mon!” Genma retorts. “We were all thinking it! This is the first time he’s been back training with us since the Anbu. You’ve heard what people have said about him. I’m surprised one of us isn’t already dead!”

This time no one was able to hold in their reactions as gasps escaped everyone in the circle.

You are fuming.

“Actually, Genma, the only one you should be worried about killing you is me because I am a second away from shoving that stupid senbon down your throat.” You take a step forward, challenging him.

“Hey, hey,” Genma retreats, taking a step back with his hands up in defense. “I was just trying to look out for us, for you especially. I mean out of all of us, you should be the most concerned. You know, with the whole situation that happened with Ri-”

You close the gap between you and Genma in seconds, grabbing the collar of his vest, you yank the senbon from his mouth and hold it against his throat.

“If you finish that sentence it will be the last words you ever speak.” You threaten. “You have no idea what you’re talking about. You have no idea the details of what Kakashi has been through. What Rin went through. What I went through. It isn’t your place to speak about a situation you know nothing of. So do us all a favor and shut up.” You let go of his vest and shove him back a couple steps.

“Wow, damn, okay, sorry.” Genma apologizes, a hint of annoyance in his voice. “I was just joking around. There’s no need to be so serious about it, (y/n).”

“My hand went through Rin’s heart,” Kakashi speaks up from his silence. “There’s nothing to joke about.”

Hearing Kakashi speak this hard truth sends a sharp pain through your heart, and you instinctively grasp onto the part of your shirt lying over your chest.

You turn and look back at Kakashi, who meets your eyes.

Pain.

So much pain.

You turn to step towards him, but he’s already retreating from the circle.

“I think that’s it for me today guys. I’ll catch you around another time.” Kakashi says as he turns away from the group giving you one last glance. Heading towards the forest, he reaches around to his pouch and pulls out his Icha Icha novel, bringing it in front of him to pick up where he left off.

After a few silent beats, Asuma claps his hands together to bring attention to him.

“So,” he starts, “drinks anyone?”

Everyone immediately becomes more relaxed now that the focus has shifted. You, on the other hand, are feeling so tense that you start to hear ringing in your ears. You get that Asuma is just trying to relieve the tension in the group, but you can’t help but be annoyed that he’s trying to move on from what just happened so quickly.

Kurenai meets your gaze and can read your annoyance. She gives you a pleading look that says drop it for now, (y/n).

Everyone in the circle, including Genma, give a resounding “yes” and head in the opposite direction of Kakashi back towards the village. You're left alone standing in the middle of the grounds as they make their way out.

“(Y/n), are you coming?” Kurenai calls out to you.

You contemplate for a second and begin to wave her off.

“I think I’m going to stay here for a minute. You guys go on ahead, I’ll meet up with you later,” you reply. Honestly, you have no intention of getting back together with them, as any place where Genma is hanging out is the last place you want to be.

“Okay,” Asuma shouts back at you, “we will be at that one bar on main.”

“As always.” you joke back, trying to sound light-hearted.

Once they are out of sight you turn to look back at the trees that Kakashi exited through. You have absolutely no idea where he could be headed to or how fast he could be traveling through the trees. It might be a waste of time to head out after him. After all, if Kakashi doesn’t want to be found, you have no chance of finding him.

Feeling slightly defeated, you plop down to the ground and sit criss-cross in the dirt. You sit up straight and put both of your hands palm-up on each knee. Taking a deep breath in, you feel the breeze rustle through your hair. Taking a deep breath out, you hear the sound of the trees flowing in the wind.

If he wants to talk, he will come to me. In the meantime, I will meditate.

The next time you open your eyes, it’s dark out.

Damn, how many hours have passed?

You close your eyes.

More time passes.

The next time you open your eyes, Kakashi is sitting a few feet across from you mirroring your position.

His eyes are open.

As if your thoughts are mirroring each other as well, you both speak in unison.

“I’m sorry.”

#kakashi #kakashi hatake #kakashi fanfic #kakashi fanfiction #kakashi x reader #hatake kakashi #kakashi fluff #kakashi imagine #naruto fanfiction #kakashi x you #kakashi x y/n #kakashi one shot #kakashi x yn #kakashi sensei #i found my light

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t-lostinworlds · 3 years

Note

can you do tom and reader who’s most likely too couple edition 🥺

TH’s YouTube Extras: Most Likely To

a/n: i’m sorry this took long, love. this is short and sweet, kinda a different format but i hope you still like it! Oh and Harry is in italics ahaha.

☰ youtube channel | recent video

-:-:-:-:-

You were sat crossed legged on the couch, closely beside Tom who was all sprawled out. His legs were open wide as he leaned back on the cushion with one arm on the back of the sofa, right behind you. There was a camera on a tripod right in front of you both that was already recording.

"Hello guys! Welcome to our...second channel, should I call it?" Tom turned to you with a chuckle. You gave him a nod and a sweet smile. "This is basically where we post the shorter and more unplanned videos," he elaborated, glancing back at the camera with a soft chuckle.

"Today we're going to be doing a quick Who Is Most Likely To," you explained. "We've got our ping-pong paddles right here with each our name on opposite sides," you added, showing the camera the paddles with Tom doing the same.

"And Harry is right behind the camera to ask the questions," Tom finished, pointing towards Harry to get this game going.

Who's most likely to date a celebrity?

"That's such a bad first question," you scoffed with a shake of your head, lifting up the paddle with your name.

"I mean, she's dating one now," Tom laughed, doing the exact same and showed your name as he wriggled his brows at the camera.

Who's most likely to be dramatic?

Both of you raised the paddle with Tom's name on it, the lad beside you chuckling with a nod.

"Yeah, I don't think we need to explain this one," he said.

"He's just over dramatic with everything," you pointed out with a playful roll of your eyes.

"No, I'm not!" Tom protested with a loud gasp, the hand that held the paddle landing on his chest as he gawked at you.

"You were saying?" You raised your brow, Tom pouting in response but didn't bother to say another word. You giggled at that, leaning towards him to place a sweet kiss on his cheek that was quick to replace his pout with a bright grin.

Who's most likely to die due to something stupid?

Tom showed your name with a soft chuckle, you nodding in agreement as you lifted the paddle up with your name too.

"I'm just so clumsy," you laughed. "I'd probably slip and break my neck in the process so yeah, me."

"You see now why I'm overprotective over your clumsy but pretty ass?" Tom pointed out, narrowing his eyes at you. "I need to wrap you in those human-size bubbles to keep you from harm I swear."

"See what I mean about overdramatic?" you challenged, turning to the camera with a deadpan expression.

"It's just 'cause I love you too much, darling," he crooned, leaning closer to place a tender kiss on your temple. You leaned into his warmth with a soft hum and a love-struck smile on your lips, a sight that only made Tom's heart melt.

Mostly like to go to prison for something stupid?

"Probably me," Tom chuckled, paddle up to show his name.

You did just the same. "I mean you've already admitted to wanting to rob a bank," you giggled.

"If I have superpowers," he countered.

"But that's still a very stupid thing to admit in public, is it not?" you giggled, Tom sighing softly as he nodded in agreement.

Who's most likely to cry during a sad movie?

Both of you lifted your paddles up at the same time, your name written on each of it.

"I mean I'm a big crier too but it would take a very emotional scene. But the minute she sees someone else cry, she's gone," Tom explained, turning you with a soft chuckle.

"I don't know why but yeah, every time I see someone else cry, I start crying too," you admitted with a timid laugh.

Tom's arm fell from the couch and landed on your shoulder, giving your arm a loving squeeze as he pulled you closer to his side, keeping it touch there for the rest of the video. "It just means you've got a big heart," he gushed, flashing you one of his many charming grins. You beamed at him lovingly in response, giving him a light pat on the chest as a silent 'thank you'.

Who's most likely to cry during sex?

"What kind of cry?" Tom asked, turning towards his brother.

...just generally speaking.

"Well, I haven't so—" Tom shrugged as he lifted his paddle up with your name on it.

"I have," you muttered softly, lifting the paddle of your name up, covering your face with it to hide your slight embarrassment.

"When it just feels too go—" Tom stopped himself when you shot him a death glare. He turned back to the camera and laughed, "I'm not going to finish that sentence or I'll die."

Who's most likely to go a week without a shower?

You showed Tom's name swiftly with a laugh, him doing just the same with a shaking his head in slight shame.

"It's because I'm too busy sometimes," Tom reasoned, turning to look at you with a pout, finger running up and down your arm softly.

"I don't let that happen by the way," you said as you turned to the camera. "If I need to drag him to the shower then I will."

"Among other things she does to get me in the shower," Tom muttered, mischief glimmering in his orbs as he wriggled his brows at you suggestively.

You could only roll your eyes at him.

Most likely to be a romantic?

The two of you looked at each other, paddles remaining down, smiles on your lips because you both know it was a tie.

"We're both equally romantics," Tom chuckled, giving your arm a squeeze before turning to the camera as he added, "She occasionally gives me flowers out of the blue and it honestly makes my heart soar every damn time."

You laughed with a shrug. "Yeah, because flowers don't have genders you know. A lady can get her man flowers too," you hummed, beaming widely at Tom.

"Damn right." He shot the camera firm look before turning to meet your gaze again. "I love getting flowers from you," he gushed, hand running up and down your arm fondly.

"And I love getting flowers from you too." You tilted your head at him with a bright, loving smile. "And sweets," you giggled.

Who is most likely to initiate sex?

"We both do," Tom chuckled, turning to you, his brows furrowing when you had your paddle up with his name on it.

"More Tom than me but not by much," you explained to the camera with a shrug, the lad chuckling without any protest because it was in fact, true.

Who's most likely to use the other person's toothbrush?

You quickly raised Tom's name with a shake of your head. "Mainly because I would never," you said, glancing over to your boyfriend who had his own name up. You stared at him curiously. "Wait a sec, have you?"

Tom flashed you a guilty smile. "It was an accident," he started. "I thought I grabbed my toothbrush but as soon as I placed it in my mouth I made eye-contact with my actual toothbrush and yeah."

"Tom!" you gasped, smacking his shoulder lightly.

"It's not like my tongue hasn't been in your mouth before!" he defended with a laugh.

"That's different you muppet! You're not shoving your tongue in my mouth to clean it now aren't you?"

"Shoving is a bit harsh," he muttered which only earned a glare from you. "Okay, okay! I'm sorry! But it was an accident I swear," he chuckled, wrapping both his arms around you for a quick hug, a soft kiss landing on top of your head soon after.

All you could do was sigh, Tom letting you go with a chuckle as he sat straighter. "Right, last one," he said.

Who is most likely to give a lap dance?

Tom showed your name with a smirk, glancing at your answer which only made him furrow his brows. "What'd you mean me?" Tom chuckled as he gestured towards your paddle with his name on it.

"Uh, have you seen your umbrella performance?" you said as a matter of fact, turning towards the camera with a grin.

The lad beside you groaned in dismay as he hung his head, earning a laugh from you. Lifting his head back up with a grin, he turned to you with a brow raised in challenge. "But who has actually given one?" Tom countered.

You felt your cheeks heat up at that.

"Yeah, that's right turn that paddle around," he teased, you showing your name with a sigh as you hid your face behind the paddle once again. "I'm a very very lucky guy," he hummed towards the camera, earning an eye-roll from you.

"So, that's it for today! I hope you enjoyed this short-styled video. And we'll see you again next time!"

Once he was sure that the camera was off, Tom was quick to wrap his arms around your torso, snuggling into you with a glimmer in his brown orbs.

"Babe, I don't feel like showering today," Tom whined, pout in full play as he looked at you expectantly.

"What, you want an incentive?" You raised a brow at your man, your fingers combing through his hair adoringly.

"Please?" he cooed, hiding face on the crook of your neck, a hot kiss landing on your skin soon after. "Save some water?"

You can't help but giggle at that, knowing that it wasn't a good point since you mostly spend longer in the shower when you're with him. But either way, his offer does sound very alluring.

"Fine, shower in five minutes."

-:-:-:-:-

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nanasparadise · 3 years

Note

Can you do (aged up of course), Yandere Narancia x reader. [p.s can it include any of these prompts? “ Stop denying our love! Stop denying our future together!! ”, “ Please don’t cry. Show me the smile I love so much! ”, “ You can’t escape my love.”,” You will grow to love me back, I just know it!“] Thx so much <3

“You can’t escape my love”

“You will grow back to love me, I just know it.”

Hiya anon! I hope you enjoy it! <3

Summary: Your boyfriend doesn’t understand the concept of boundaries and keeps harassing you, until he stands in front of your apartment’s door...

TW: cyber harassment, implied stalking, gaslighting, mentions of a panic attack, toxic relationship, noncon touching, curse words, MATURE AUDIENCE ONLY/MINORS DNI

I do not condone any yandere behaviour in real life.

Narancia has been aged up, no minor content on my blog!

Word count: 2155

“No escape” Yan! Narancia x gender-neutral reader

Bling. Another one of… how many messages again? You have stopped counting a while ago. An exasperated sigh escapes your lips, wondering why you haven’t turned off the volume yet. Why is he so unrelenting? Annoyed, you take your phone in your hand, staring at the twenty-five texts Narancia has left for you. At first, they have started off innocently, asking you about your well-being and your day. But as time has passed, the messages have begun becoming more invasive and have ended up being straight-up creepy.

“Why aren’t you answering me, did I do something wrong?”

“Stop being so stubborn, I know you want to be with me, too!”

“I’m always near you, you’re aware of that, right? You can’t escape my love.”

An icy shudder travels down your spine while reading the last two sentences. Fear clenches around your heart, making your chest feel heavy, your breaths short and laboured.

“’’Try out this dating app!’ they said, ‘It will be fun!’ I see where this fun has lead me to”, you think gloomily. Why on earth did you ever sign up to that damned app and had to match with Narancia? You curse yourself, curse your naivety for having expected to encounter there a nice and healthy relationship.

The only thing that has waited for you is an obsessive stalker you can’t get rid of. Of course you didn’t realise Narancia’s disturbing nature at the beginning. No, you thought of him as sweet and energetic, although a bit tiring. Your first dates were pleasant: you went to a fair, sharing candyfloss and laughter between you, to a restaurant, where the Italian nearly choked on his pasta out of excitement, to a spring picnic at the local park, bathing in the gentle sunlight. It all seemed so beautiful to you back then, so innocent. But quickly, things have changed.

Narancia has become increasingly clingy to you until it started feeling as if he was glued onto your hip. Oh, you want to go grocery shopping? He’ll come with you and help you carry your bags! You’re planning on visiting your family on the weekend? He’ll join you, he has been dying to meet them anyway!

Setting boundaries with him was extremely challenging. Every time you hinted that you’d rather like to spend some time alone, he nearly threw a fit, taking your words out of context and twisting them around.

“So you want to toss me away? You don’t think I’m important to you?”, he shouted at you, tears of anger forming in his eyes. Back then, you didn’t notice his gaslighting methods, felt guilty for prioritising yourself. But now, you don’t want to hold yourself back anymore. There isn’t any reason for you to justify yourself, especially not to someone who clearly has no right to intervene in your life like this. Your gaze travels back to your phone. All these messages, these implications, are proof enough of his unhealthy attachment to you. Hell, he even admitted following you! No matter how much you enjoyed your time together, you can’t let Narancia continue with his creepy behaviour.

Quickly, you type a text, telling the Italian that if he goes on invading your privacy, you’ll block him. For a few minutes, sweet silence dominates your living room.

“Maybe he finally got it”, you muse hopefully.

Bling. There goes your hope.

“Are you messing with me? Why would you write that?! Please, stop with these jokes, we can talk about this!” Another sigh comes out of your mouth.

“No Narancia, we actually can’t. That’s exactly what I’ve been trying to tell the whole time, but it seems you don’t understand. I’m sorry, but I’m gonna block you for now, otherwise I’ll go insane.”

With these final words, you block his number. Relief washes over you as you realise that the Italian can’t harass you anymore.

“It‘s kind of sad how things have turned out”, you mumble to yourself. Though you do feel some regret – after all, the two of you had shared many beautiful moments together – you abruptly stop your pondering. “No use to cry over spoiled milk, Y/N. If he keeps treating you like this, it’s best to get away from him.”

Little did you know that Narancia isn’t letting you go that easily. The following days, he kept reaching out to you towards multiple phone numbers. Every time you blocked it, a new one popped up. At this point, you’ve simply stopped using your phone altogether, only relying on the device if it’s inevitable. In those cases, you’re helplessly exposed to the unnerving messages of the young man. The latest one keeps haunting your mind, initiating your anxiety.

“I’ve been really patient with you, Y/N, but this little game is making me lose my temper. I’ll be seeing you tonight and then we settle things straight. You will grow back to love me, we’ll make up again, I just know it.”

Nervously, you eye the nearest clock in your flat. 8 p.m. What does Narancia consider ‘tonight’? Will he even come? Are you able to face him right now?

“Oh god, I need to go”, you whisper desperately, nausea manifesting itself in your stomach. You could crash at your friend’s place, you’re sure they’d understand your situation. Quickly, you gather all your important belongings, ready to flee, as a loud knocking on your front door followed by an all too familiar voice interrupts your escape.

“Hey Y/N, could you open the door for me, please?”

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. You mutter an incoherent string of curses. Petrified, you just keep staring at the door, not daring move a single muscle in your body.

“If you don’t open the door yourself, I’ll just break it in, you know?”, Narancia shouts on the other side. The casualness of his tone scares you even more.

“How can he just be so blasé by his behaviour? Doesn’t he notice how wrong his actions are?” Actually fearing the Italian might damage your property, you accept your defeat and slowly walk up to the front door. Hesitantly, with shaking hands, you unlock it and pull the handle down. Nervousness creeps up on you, making your palms grow sweaty and your heart palpitating erratically. Soon – too soon for your liking – you meet a pair of familiar purple eyes. To your surprise, Narancia smiles upon seeing your face.

“Hi babe,” he greets you, carefree, “I’m so glad you opened the door for me! You have no clue how much I’ve missed you!” Without even waiting for you to invite him in – which you definitely wouldn’t have done – the young man marches into your flat, invading your privacy even further. Suddenly, two arms wrap around your middle and pull you close to the young man’s chest. Your breathing falters at the abrupt touch. “It’s alright, it’s only me, Y/N”, Narancia tries to comfort you. If only he knew that his presence currently gives you anything but comfort…

A few moments later, you find yourself sitting on your couch next to him. Narancia flashes you a seemingly reassuring grin all while you keep fiddling with the sleeves your shirt. You blankly stare at the floor in front of you. Even though Narancia’s behaviour is conveying sympathy, you couldn’t get rid of the intuitive feeling that this is all but a façade to lull you into a false sense of security. Who knows what he could do to you? Despite his overall sweet and fun nature, the young man doesn’t shy away from using violence if you test his – admittedly little – patience. His numerous messages flash up in your mind again. You’re painfully aware now how he made it clear that you’ve clearly missed your opportunities of being in his good graces. This realisation pushes you nearly over the edge, being on the brink of a panic attack. Would Narancia really hurt you?

“Look Y/N,” the sound of his voice interrupts your train of thought. A little startled, you immediately straighten your back and glance at his form next to you. The young man’s hand finds its way to yours, stopping your fumbling by securely grasping it. “I didn’t mean to frighten you, but what’s wrong? Why did you just ignore me like that?”, Narancia asks you. You don’t miss the hint of annoyance in his voice, indicating his true feelings. Though anxiety still has a hold on you, you try your best to fight against it and tell him the truth. After all, it’s not like you could escape this situation anyway. So you take a deep breath in and out again, before you spill your following words.

“Well, I know you’re more of a clingy person Narancia, but what you’re doing is unhealthy. You can’t expect me to give you my full attention all the time. And you definitely can’t follow me around! It’s just creepy and wrong. You know that’s considered stalking, right?”

The Italian stares back at you incredulously. You wonder what’s going on in his head right now.

“You gave me no other choice, Y/N! How am I supposed to see if you’re doing alright if you deny me like this? You really think me worrying about you makes me some deranged criminal?”, Narancia barks angrily back at you. The grip on your hand tightens. Listening to your previous gut feeling, you immediately retrieve your hand from his all while scooting away from him to gain more space between you. The dark-haired man’s jaw visibly clenches at your action, disapproval glistening in his eyes. Of course he would use his gaslighting tactics on you, he always does when things don’t go his way. Cautiously, you think for a while of what to say, not wanting to trigger Narancia’s wrath any further.

“It’s not the fact you worry about me, it’s the way you choose to show your concern. Narancia, it’s not okay what you’re doing, you’re actually making me feel very uncomfortable, even right now. Plus, you’re blaming me for your behaviour, which is, again, not acceptable”, You carefully reply, hoping to talk some sense into him.

He makes you uncomfortable? Narancia can’t comprehend your words at all. He’d been worrying himself sick the last few days, trying to reach out to you as best as possible while you cruelly kept on ignoring his countless messages. But he is supposed to be the bad guy now? The Italian scoffs intensely at that thought. He can feel the anger gnawing at his guts, ready to be released.

“You’re being ridiculous, Y/N,” Narancia reprimands you, “can’t I show you anymore that I care? That I love you? Even after you’ve blocked and ignored me? What do you expect me to do now, to just let you go?”

“Actually, I do,” you peep quietly, “I can’t continue with this madness. If you don’t want to understand and listen to me, then it’s best for you to go. Now.” Your voice grows stronger with every word you utter, finally regaining your confidence. Meanwhile, Narancia’s heart sinks to his stomach at your statement. Do you really want to leave him?

“No, no no no Y/N, you don’t mean this, right? You wanna stay with me, don’t you?”

“No, I really don’t think I do, not after you’ve shown me your true colours.”

With a force you don’t expect, Narancia pulls you suddenly against his chest again. His arms cage you in, leaving no room for you to move at all.

“This is just a misunderstanding,” the young man keeps repeating like a mantra while tightening his grasp as if you could dissipate into thin air if he didn’t cling onto you, “It’s normal for couples to fight from time to time, it’s fine. We’re fine, right? You wouldn’t abandon me for real, would you?”

“Narancia, I –“ you try to intervene, but your attempts remain futile as he cuts you off quickly.

“No, you’re not going to leave me! I’m not letting you. Look, this is but a silly fight, you’re not going to toss away our relationship for that, are you? Just remember all the beautiful moments we shared together, how happy I can make you, if you just let me!” Narancia nuzzles his head into the crook of your neck. “I love you, Y/N.” He eagerly plants kisses onto your skin, making you shudder and whimper helplessly. Your eyes grow bigger, your breath quickens as you desperately look for a way to escape this situation, to escape him.

“I love you more than anything in this world. I’d gladly give up everything if it meant to spend every second with you by my side. No one can love you like this but me. Remember that next time you’re thinking I’m going to let you off the hook”, Narancia whispers in your ear, the underlying threat being crystal clear to you. No, you aren’t going to escape from him any time soon…

#JJBA #JoJo's Bizarre Adventure #yandere jjba #yandere jojo #yandere narancia x reader #yandere narancia #yandere x reader #jojo golden wind #minors dni #tw: aged up character #tw: yandere #tw: noncon touching #tw: toxic relationship #tw: gaslighting #tw: cyber harassment

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jadelynlace · 3 years

Text

ink drinker / Modern Vikings AU, Ivar x F!Reader, Chapter 3

catch up here!

synopsis: Ivar was only meant to be a friend with benefits, but he caught feelings for his older brother’s best friend, and co-worker: you.

pairing: Ivar x F!Reader

author’s note & content warning: mentions of depression, self harm and suicidal thoughts; all pertaining to Ivar, not reader. mentions of therapy, medication and past history of self inflicted & blooming trauma. please read at your own risk. my messages are always, always open for anyone who may ever need a listener. anything in italics indicates a flash back. there are so many fucking feelings in this chapter that I just, am apologizing now. but there’s smut!

✎

It was gloomy the morning you remembered finally catching a glimpse of Ivar’s scars. Adorned and nearly smothered by him in his bed, the small snores from him somewhere draped across your skin, traveling over the plains in warm boulders. You were always drawn to the artwork on his limbs, there was always a smaller detail you missed and found within your next search but through the endless gazes you finally caught sight of the jagged white flesh. The since healed lacerations and your medical knowledge took full force of your mind. They were scars, they were healed scars, but they were scars from the straight edge of a razor blade. With such precision and such aftermath you knew they were the scars with one intent within their making. And they were there to tell you the secret horrors Ivar had not yet spoken—that there was a point where he felt his heart should no longer beat, and his lungs should no longer fill and that his life was meaningless. And that he should end it.

“Can I ask you something?” You finally find yourself mumbling; words floating through the cabin of the parked ambulance on stand by. Hvitserk’s coffee halfway through to his stomach when you peep in such a meek voice he almost coughs the molten liquid back out.

“Yeah, of course, Y/N,”

“How bad is Ivar’s depression?” And you simply ask. No foreword to the speech, no coating of sugar or dusting of fake joy. As blunt as you had been trained to voice the death of a loved one to their family. “I saw the medication in his cabinet, and I saw the scars on his wrists. I know it’s none of my business because he’s your brother, but…” and you can’t find a lie to justify it. Not ready to spill to your partner about the times Ivar had spilled into the condoms with you.

“Bad,” Hvitserk says, and just as bluntly. “He…he tried to kill himself in college. I don’t know if you’ve noticed how he’s never available Saturdays from eleven to noon, but that’s when he has therapy. I had been trying to convince him since high school to see someone, and Floki finally got through to him not too long ago,” He adds. “When I got that phone call from mom that he was in the hospital—I felt like such a failure, Y/N, because I knew it was coming and I did nothing to stop it,” Your hand goes to his wrist for a second, a quick squeeze of added support as you listen.

“Sometimes people refuse what’s good for them, Hvitty,” You start. “You should know that—how many times have we explained to someone why they should go to the hospital with us, but they still refuse?” He finally cracks a smile at that. “Do you think he’s in a better place now, mentally?”

“Either that, or he’s just stable. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but Ivar doesn’t like to talk about his feelings…”

“Wow Hvitserk, I had no idea,” You tease, nudging him with both your elbow and sarcastic tone as the voice on the radio fills into the cabin. Your stand by is over and the conversation is dropped as you leave the scene.

There had been instances where you think he might be ready; he might understand that the new gifting of your relationship status might help him to realize you aren’t joking when you offer to listen. You’d listen to Ivar talk until he ran out of things to say if it came to that. More times now the words perched themselves on his lips, ready to spring forwards but he keeps pulling them back. He keeps swallowing them because they’re mixed like bile and stew and far too gross, far too un-human for him to even want to try to speak them to you. And then Ivar kicks himself for drowning these demons who have started to learn to swim and he sees you in your uniform and remembers that nothing phases you. You watch open heart surgery on the television while you eat his mother’s lasagna without a care in the world or a realization that what you were doing is unusual.

“Can I talk to you?” Ivar says bluntly, sitting like a cowered dog in the living room and you’re hardly through his front door when he asks. You can feel how your head rises slowly, a quick snarky word to come back but you bite down on your tongue so roughly you can taste blood as you just look at him. You have never seen a man of his stature try to look so small, try to be so invisible. Worry comes to your face just as quickly as the next breath passes through your diaphragm and you’re on the couch before you even take your shoes off. “It’s messy,” He finally admits. Shallow and dead and you can see the broken boy that has tried to hide himself through the bulked muscles and the tattoos; the glare through his blue eyes and the curved lip.

“Most of what involves the human body is messy, Ivar,” You find yourself saying back, and it sounds pathetic to your ears. It sounds like you’re trying to tell the parent of a dead child that you know how they feel but you don’t. And you never will. But Ivar shedding this skin for you feels like you’re walking through the motions on a call, eyes from crowds of people crawling over and stuck on your every move. And every move that comes next like they’re watching a soap opera with their dinner and they’ve disconnect that what is happening is real, it’s someones life. Just like how you have to disconnect. But in this moment it’s Ivar, and you’re present.

“Like paint,” Ivar mumbles next.

“Yeah, like paint,” You repeat and there’s a smile on your lips for a second. “Ivar? You don’t do that anymore, do you?” You finally find the courage to ask.

“No,” Ivar says as he glances down at his right hand’s wrist, shoving the skin next to the sweatshirt he’s wearing as if rubbing it on the gray cotton will make those scars dissipate. “I get tattoos instead,” That causes a sick button to click in your consciousness as to why Ivar is so heavily covered from his shoulders to his ankles in artwork. How the sting of the needle dawning the creations reminded him of the blade he tried to use to make the mess of thoughts fly away. To make the demons come free through his skin and leave him with peace, if only a moment.

“What helps? What helps you stay present?” You ask. Ivar blinks far too many times, sorting through his brain for the answers as if it’s a container of memorabilia that’s so unorganized even his mother can’t stand the sight of it.

“My brothers help, sometimes,” He says. “I think about how devastated my mom would be. I think about Floki. I think about all of the people in my life who say they want me here even when my mind is trying to tell me I don’t deserve to be.”

“I want you here, Ivar.” You say back and catch how he looks at you when you admit such.

“Why? Have you seen yourself, Y/N? You could have anyone you want and you choose me…” The sentence breaks your heart but you now know the darkness the climbs between his ears. The seed planted so long ago in the depths of brown ground somewhere and you want to pull it from the mental garden. You want to rip the roots right from the soil and burn them so they never have a chance to infest any farther.

“No one makes me feel the way you do, Ivar,” Are the first words from your mouth. “You make me smile, you make me feel important—you remind me how to escape. Even on the worst possible days I can have, you bring me back to reality.” You want to tell him how he’s addicting, how there’s a quality to him you can’t articulate but always keeps you coming back. How you want to keep coming back because both your mind, and your body know it’s safe. How he was someone so mysterious from the outside but past every highly built wall is a man who is just so simply himself. “Because you’re you, Ivar. With the bachelor’s degree in calculus, and the copious amounts of tattoos, and a heart of gold that…you forget that you have,” You finally add. “You’re someone different to the rest of the world, but you’re the real Ivar around me,” You worry that the silence that over takes him is a sign of something else. A sign that you spoke too much, again, and scarred him for more than he could withstand. And then he smiles.

But you can’t understand why—why he smiles for someone like you. The one who let him design your first ever tattoo to his heart’s content. The one who has the same twisted sense of humor. The one who will bicker back and challenge him. The one who gets to see him fall apart between your legs. The one who makes him hard, and has him make those noises. The moans, the heavy panting and rasped groans as he bottoms out and moves through you. The one who gets to watch how his eyes snap shut, and his mouth drops open when you clench around him; how his entire back tenses when he’s close. How he holds you as he fills the rubber with everything he has. The man who loves your nails trailing on his skin. The man who smothers you every night that he spends with you, and every morning when you wake and he’s still there. Making you coffee and cooking you breakfast. How he knows your takeout order from your favorite places, and your work schedule. What food to have at his own apartment, and what movies he should have on demand. The spare clothes he keeps there for when you come over after work, ready to take the ambulance grime from your skin. The pads that are in his bathroom closet, the painkillers. The bottle of “girly white wine” that he won’t admit to drinking too, because it is damn good wine. The man who knows to check in with you during the day, and again to make sure you really are alright. The same man who knows if you don’t text him back, you and Hvitserk have gone knee deep into either a bullshit call, or a tragic one. As shocked as you were that he was listening to what you were saying—and taking it to heart—you were stunned that you hadn’t caught on to how obvious it was that Ivar was in love with you. Even with all of the time you spend crammed between your own thoughts.

“There’s a lot to sort through,” Ivar says again.

“That’s okay, Ivar,” You remind him, your head resting on his shoulder and you feel him shift, move his arm to encompass you as you curl against his side.

“You smell like bleach,” He softly laughs, his nose deep against your hair and you snort, reminded of the decontamination duties you were gifted from the calls today.

“Better than Hvitserk, who got puked on,” You reply. “Shower?” And you can feel Ivar nod against you.

His hands don’t move rapidly to shed your clothing, or to shed his own. There’s a certain calmness through his motions as he waits for the water to warm, slipping your polo from your shoulders, and planting his lips in its wake. Against the base of your neck, your spine, hugging your body flush against his in front of the mirror. Your eyes catch sight of his hands coming back around you, squeezing your breasts and you can’t stop the moan that crawls from your mouth. The traces of artwork on his fingers as his lips move from your neck, to the shell of your ear and graze your pulse point. There’s a push from your backside against his groin, and Ivar growls in response, humming not far after as you feel how his cock hardens the farther his hands roam.

Down your sides, your abdomen, swirling through your folds and dipping between them to catch your juices. Circling against the bundle of nerves he knows so precisely and you moan twice as loudly, and he does too as you moisten to his fingers. Your hands move to grab at him, anywhere they can and you find one hand holding his neck and the other wrapping around his length. Your nails crawl to his hair, pulling the locks down as his fingers take to moving quickly, spreading your womanhood and arousal and you suddenly can’t wait much longer to have him. And he can tell by how you whimper, whisper to him about how you want to feel him inside of you and there’s no fight anywhere on his body to try to deny the tone of your begging. Ivar’s eyes catch yours in the mirror as he finally pushes into you, the cold porcelain sink calming the heat of your skin as he bottoms out and rests his body against yours. There’s a sinful moan that comes through his lips as his eyes bore into yours, with the squeeze from your walls and warmth you spread through him and at first he can’t move, he only wants to savor it. His eyes finally close as he slips away from you, pushing in once more as your body rocks to the sink, singing back to him as the steam from the forgotten shower starts to fog against the mirror. Your name is through his lips as he moves, tattooed hands coming to find yours as he moves your body with each thrust, each timed sensation and you feel your own orgasm approaching. His mouth open on your ear, eyes screwed shut between love and ecstasy as his breath tickles down your face and you’re close now, far closer and far faster than you’ve ever been

“Ivar—” comes your voice and there’s only a hum in response, wordlessly pleading for you to let go because he’s got you, and you know that. Your knuckles white washed against his as you finish, shaking against the sink and you miss how Ivar’s eyes watch you unfold. Studying the pleasure laced in your features.

“Where, baby?” He says quickly, and you shudder as you remember he’s bare now, condom long since forgotten but there are still the small pills you swallow. Still working somewhere you know of, but the accuracy decreases when you take them irregularly—and there’s a big part of your life that calls for that to happen. The alarming lights and loud tones. But you know that you’re safe. With Ivar you’re always safe.

“Inside,” You finally say, his hips stopping to starve off the inevitable as he waits for you to be sure, as he waits to see the seriousness on your face so he knows you aren’t lying in the heat of the moment. And you have to say it again for him to start up again, remind him that you have a safety net. The sensitivity in your cunt melts as he keeps moving and you can tell another orgasm is starting to build. Ivar reaches from your hand quickly and starts his fingers against your clit, quick circles as you hear him get louder, feel his other arm move to crush you and you catch his face as he finishes. The sight searing in your vision and colliding with how he moves with you and your second release rolls through you. His seed spilling and you both moan, his lips still plastered against your ear and you can feel the shake through his whole body as he floats back down. The tense in his thighs pushing you against the counter. There’s a whimper next from him, as he stills, wrapping tightly to hold you there, like it was all a dream he doesn’t want to wake up from.

“I love you,” You hear him say against your skin and you’re right there to repeat it back to him. “You don’t have to mean it,” He then tries and you already know what he’s doing.

“I do, Ivar,” You say back, trying to make him look at you through the mirror but his eyes are still closed. He slowly slips from you, his release sticking between your thighs as he slides away and you’re only then able to turn in his arms. Reaching forwards to pull his mouth against his. “I love you. You and me Ivar, against the world,” You say and he hums at that, a small snicker not far after.

“I like how that sounds, baby,” His smile comes next, dopey and boyish as he finally looks into your eyes and understands that you don’t doubt any part of him. You love it all—the good and the bad and the evil things he may think about himself. You love them all because you know he feels the same way when it comes to you. “The hot water’s going to run out soon,” He mumbles as he holds you. And standing in the shower is not much more different, still wrapped up safely in his arms as you both feel the troubles melt down the drain.

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blossom-hwa · 3 years

Text

You Look So Lovely, Darling (I’ll Love You for Lifetimes) - |BaL|

Kinda feels weird to be writing the proposal scene so early, but like? This drabble series is all out of order so whatever lmao :) enjoy some sweet nervous channie who just wants his proposal to be perfect <3

(and again, thanks to @deathbykpopboys for helping me work out this scene!! I LITERALLY owe you the world if you ever have ANY requests I'll be willing to write them :D)

Pairing: Chan x fem!reader

Genre: fluff, slice of life, single parent!au

Triggers: cursing

Word Count: 2.9k

Chan just wants to give you a picture perfect proposal - why is that so hard?

SKZ Masterlist | Breathe, and Live | Touching Stars (TBZ teacher!au)

Proposing, Chan comes to learn, is no easy task.

It looks so simple in movies. One of the couple pulls a ring out of their pocket, kneels down in front of their significant other, and pops the question. There might be tears, but it always ends in pure joy.

Movies make it seem like a formula, a simple algorithm that Chan just has to follow in order to get this proposal right. In real life, though, Chan thinks he’s about to lose his mind.

Because movies don’t demonstrate how to act in front of an older brother very protective of his sister. They don’t show him how to talk to his children or hers, how best to ask them if they’re all right with gaining new siblings and a new parent. They don’t give him insight on how to pick the perfect god damn ring, something maybe reminiscent of the promise rings you both wear on chains around your necks, but also not too similar because what if you think he isn’t being creative?

And the worst thing is, they don’t tell him how to pick the perfect moment. They don’t tell him where to go, what ambience is right, whether or not little kids in the room will ruin the timing.

At this point, just thinking about proposing turns Chan into a stammering mess. Even though you’ve discussed marriage before, you haven’t made any large moves beyond that. Jisung and Felix have been calling you Mama for a bit, but Hyunjin has only just started calling him Papa, and mostly on accident (though each time he does, Chan’s heart fills with this overwhelming happiness that brings tears to his eyes). What if you decide now isn’t the right time? What if you decide you want to wait a little longer?

What if you decide Chan isn’t the right person for you?

That’s a question that plagues Chan every time his mind even brushes on the topic of marriage.

He loves you, though, he loves you so much. And he knows you’re the right partner for him, even if in the end you might decide he isn’t the right partner for you.

Patience, he tells himself, taking a deep breath. He really should be working on this new track, but instead, he’s staring into his hands, trying to map out the perfect proposal. Not too fast, Chan. Take it in steps.

The only problem is, step one scares him out of his wits.

. . . . .

Chan is a full year older than Minho, and then some. By all rights, he’s the elder, and he shouldn’t be as terrified of the younger man as he is.

Minho’s a scary person, though. He’s driven, concentrated, focused – it’s how he’s gotten so far as both a dancer and a father. Chan knows he’s hardworking, but Minho is just as much, if not more, than he is.

And he’s very protective of you.

(When Minho found out you two were dating, he told Chan, verbatim, “I won’t hesitate to take you to international waters, chop up your body, and toss the parts overboard if you hurt my sister.” Just thinking about the blank expression Minho had on when he spoke those words is almost enough to make Chan lose his nerve.)

But here he is, standing just outside of Minho’s studio, ready to knock. He’s sweating, not because it’s hot or anything (it’s actually pretty cold because Minho is weird like that), but just out of sheer nervousness. His heart feels like it’s pounding a mile a minute.

Oh, God. Chan raises his hand again to rap on the door. Stop thinking. Just do it.

He knocks.

A few seconds later, the dancer opens the door in all his sweaty glory. “Chan?”

“Yeah.” Chan tries to smile, but he’s pretty sure it just looks like a grimace. “Can I ask you something?”

A glint comes into Minho’s eyes. “Of course, come on in.” He opens the door widely, smiling in a distinctly cat-like fashion that is literally scrambling Chan’s brain.

Why does he look like he knows what Chan’s about to ask?

The door swings shut with a soft but audible click, and with the noise goes Chan’s last chance to run away.

“So?” Minho looks over once Chan’s inside the room. He’s enjoying this way too much.

There’s no way he doesn’t know what I want to ask.

“I… um, so I’ve been dating your sister for a few years,” Chan starts.

Minho actually snorts. “Yes, I’m aware.”

Chan can feel the tips of his ears turning bright red. “Right. Um, I just wanted your approval for – I’m planning to – well, with your permission, of course –”

The smirk on Minho’s face only grows with each stuttering word that comes out of Chan’s mouth. And in all honesty, he actually has no idea what he’s saying. All of the sentences he rehearsed in his head before coming here seem to have completely flown out of his brain, and from Minho’s expression, he just sounds like an idiot.

He keeps going anyway, because nervous Chan doesn’t always make the best decisions to make himself look good.

“Well – um, look, I just really love her a lot.” Chan looks down with the admission, knowing he’s definitely rambled too much already, but he needs to get on with it and ask the stupid question. “I… wantedtoaskifyouwouldbeokaywithmeaskingtomarryher.”

Minho leans forward, eyes innocently wide. “Sorry, I didn’t get that, can you repeat what you said again?”

Lee Minho, you are a grade-A asshole.

Face burning, Chan clears his throat. “I wanted to ask if you would be okay with me asking to marry her. Your sister, I mean.”

Silence. Minho leaves him in silence for five whole seconds which feel more like five millennia. Chan thinks he’s going to crumble into dust on the floor out of terror and embarrassment.

“Do you have a ring?” Minho finally asks.

Chan’s cheeks burn redder. “Not… not yet.”

“So you’ll need help picking one, then?” The dancer raises one perfect eyebrow.

“… Yes?”

“Beautiful. I’ll be there whenever you need me.” Minho smiles. “Anything else you wanted to ask?”

Chan just stands there, dumbfounded. “So… is your answer yes?”

The smile immediately drops off of Minho’s face, replaced by an eye roll and a sigh. “Yes, Bang Chan, you idiot.” He punches Chan’s shoulder. “No one’s ever going to fully deserve Y/N, but you’re the closest I think anyone’s going to get. You really thought I’d say no?”

Rubbing his arm, Chan smiles sheepishly. “You can’t blame me for being nervous.”

“What? Nervous, around me?” Minho laughs, sharp and loud. Even though Chan knows he’s teasing, it’s still a bit frightening. “Never would’ve thought that.”

“You’re just proving my point,” Chan says.

“No, I’m not.” Minho smiles, close-lipped and slit-eyed. It’s terrifying. “Now, off you go. And don’t come back unless you need help picking a ring!”

It takes Chan five minutes of sitting in the hallway, garnering strange looks from several people passing by, before his legs are stable enough to take him back to his own studio. Heart still pounding, he mentally crosses a line through step one.

Next comes step two. Chan purses his lips. Step two is a bit less scary than step one (mostly because it involves children and not Lee Minho), but no less challenging.

Well, he got through Minho. Chan sighs. He just has to hope that the kids will be as receptive to the idea of a new parent as Minho was to a brother-in-law.

. . . . .

The kids know that you and Chan are at least, in some shape or form, together. They might not understand the nuances, like how you’re technically dating but don’t always refer to yourselves as boyfriend and girlfriend (because it just feels so much deeper than that, somehow), but they understand that you two “like” each other (Jisung pretends to vomit every time he hears the word “love,” so Chan just uses the word “like” to avoid that) and thus live together.

They love it, most of the time. Hyunjin was a little put out when he found out he would have to share a room with two other boys, but after Minho moved out and Hyunjin realized he would get his uncle’s old (and slightly bigger) room, he happily accepted the new plan. Jisung and Felix were mostly just happy to live with their best friend.

(Children, Chan just thinks. They’re so easy and so hard to please.)

Of course, there are difficulties. Jisung’s sensitive and has more than once broken down when he thinks Chan isn’t giving him enough attention with a new boy in the household. Felix’s tantrums are rarer, but they exist, and Hyunjin is still getting used to sharing his mom with someone else.

They’re a family, though, a messy, mostly happy family that can pull together at the end of the day and whisper “I love yous” to each other before bedtime. And that’s something Chan values more than anything in the world.

Which is why obtaining his kids’ approval for officially tying the knot is something so important to him.

He gathers them together one day in the apartment with the promise of watching a cartoon show after he asks them something. Three pairs of big eyes stare up at him from the couch, and Chan feels his heart melting with love and racing with anxiety.

Chan takes a breath. “Do you know what marriage is?”

“Yeah!” Jisung pipes up. “It’s when a girl and a boy get together and kiss!”

The laughter spills out of Chan’s mouth before he can even think. “Well, not quite, Jisung,” he chokes out, trying to stifle his remaining giggles. “It’s when two people who love each other very much get together officially. Marriage can be between a woman and a man, a man and a man, or a woman and a woman. Any two people can get married.”

Three small heads bob their heads in understanding.

“I wanted to ask you three if you would be okay with me marrying Y/N.” Chan looks each of the boys in the eye. “Is it?”

Felix nods quickly. “Yes!”

Jisung furrows his eyebrows. “Are we still going to live together?”

Chan smiles. “Yes, Sungie.”

The other twin nods. “Okay!”

Hyunjin’s mouth pouts slightly. “Will I have to call you Papa?”

A little piece of Chan’s heart breaks, but he tries not to show it. “No, of course not, Hyunjin.” He smiles as brightly as he can. “You can keep calling me Channie or Uncle Channie or whatever you want. You don’t have to call me Papa if you don’t want to.”

Hyunjin’s round, dark eyes gaze into his with a solemnity Chan honestly didn’t know toddlers could have. “Do you want me to call you Papa?”

Oh, fuck.

What the hell does Chan say to that?

With a sigh, he decides to be honest. “I would love it if you did, Hyunjin, but like I said, you don’t have to. I’ll never force you to do something you really don’t want to.”

There are a few seconds of silence, then Hyunjin nods. “Okay. You can marry my Mama.”

A weight lifts itself off of Chan’s chest and he smiles, freer this time. “Thank you, kids. One more thing – don’t tell Y/N about this!” He looks into each of their eyes, trying to convey how serious he is but in a fun way. “It’s a secret, okay?”

“Like a spy mission?” Jisung bounces in excitement.

The smile on his face widens. “Yes, Sungie. Like a spy mission.” He looks at the other two boys. “Do you promise? Pinky promise?” He holds out his pinkie.

The three resulting shouts of “YES!” make Chan hope their neighbors won’t come knocking. But even if they did, Chan thinks, he wouldn’t care.

He’d go to the ends of the earth to defend these three kids, after all.

. . . . .

Step three goes by in a flash. Out of sheer anxiety, Chan actually takes a full day off from work and calls Minho for help in finding the perfect ring.

Miraculously, he finds something within his budget range – a silver band with a small diamond set in the center. It’s simple but elegant, and the diamond glints beautifully in the sunlight. Really, the ring matches the way Chan often finds himself summing up your existence.

So only the last step remains: the actual proposal.

Looking back, Chan has no idea why he thought each of the other steps was so stressful. This is pure stress, he thinks, waiting for the perfect time to pop the question. Should he plan something extravagant? Or should he just go with the flow? When is the perfect time, anyway? What constitutes “perfect” in your mind? In his?

Minho just tells him to wait for the moment he thinks is “right.” But what the hell does “right” even mean?

“You’ll figure it out.” The dancer gives Chan a bright grin, patting his shoulder. “And if you don’t, I’ll tear you limb from limb.”

Chan just puts his face in his hands and screams.

. . . . .

When Chan proposes, the sky is dark. The kids are already tucked in bed, and you’re sitting on the couch, leaning into his shoulder as you mindlessly scroll through your phone.

Absently strumming his guitar, Chan smiles down at your face, illuminated by your phone’s glow. As if sensing him staring, you look up as well. “Sing me something?” you murmur.

“Of course, love.” He leans down to kiss the top of your head. “What song?”

“Anything you choose,” you reply. “Anything.”

Chan thinks for a moment, then starts strumming the instrument.

Softly, with mood, tightly hug her

Use it once a day, every day…

When your eyes meet hers, smile.

The characteristic chords of one of your favorite songs make you relax even further into Chan’s body, a smile blooming across your face. He badly wants to stop playing and just kiss you good and full, but he keeps his fingers strumming the guitar.

Let her breathe under a different sky, a different wind,

Sometimes, kiss her without a plan…

Chan almost stops playing.

Without a plan.

He doesn’t have a plan. He doesn’t have any proper plan on how he’s going to pull the little box out of his pocket and ask the question. But now…

Maybe he’s got an idea.

The final chords die away, and Chan finally gets his long-awaited kiss when you sit up lethargically, pressing your lips to his softly. “Are you awake enough for one more?” he whispers when you pull away.

“Mm, one more.” You nod happily, snuggling back into his side. “Then sleep.”

Chan takes a breath. One chance, Chan. This is your chance.

His fingers start strumming a song very familiar by now to him and the boys. From the way your eyes light up, you recognize it too.

It doesn’t have words. It’s just a collection of guitar chords, hastily arranged in a sweet, rough melody. In the track version, it would have piano, but because Chan only has two hands, he has to make do with just the strings of the guitar.

It’s the first song he ever wrote for his twins, the song he created that day so many years ago when they weren’t even born, when they were still kicking in their mother’s stomach. They think of it as their family song, the song he plays when the twins are sad, when they can’t get to sleep, or when they just want to hear something nice.

The last strains of the song fade away and Chan looks at you to see a tear glittering on your cheek. “You play that when the boys are sad,” is all you say. “It’s your family song.”

Chan smiles softly. “But you’re part of the family too.”

When he pulls out the box, your eyes widen. “Chan –”

“Shh.” He presses a finger gently to your lips. “Y/N, the past few years you’ve been with me have been some of the best of my life, and I can’t ever thank you enough for staying with me all this time.” There’s a tear welling up in Chan’s eye, but he blinks it away. “I would love to spend the rest of my life with you, if you would marry me.”

There’s a moment of silence that nearly gives Chan a heart attack. What if you say no?

“You – you stupid romantic sap.” The tears are really sliding down your cheeks now, but your mouth is smiling wide. “Yes, of course I’ll marry you, Chan. I’ll marry you.”

Chan can’t speak as he slides the ring onto your finger with trembling hands. Throat choked, he can only pull you close, burying his face in your shoulder as your tears soak his shirt. “I love you so much,” you whisper.

He pulls back just enough for to see your eyes sparkling with love, so much love. Your touch intoxicates him, with your fingers pressing gently against his skin as you press your lips to his in a sweet, sweet kiss.

Yes, he thinks. You’re the right partner for him.

The perfect partner for him.

Teary-eyed, he smiles. “I love you too.”

If you enjoyed, please don’t forget to reblog and leave a comment to tell me what you thought! Thank you for reading and have a lovely day <3

(1 reblog = 1 congratulations for the newly engaged couple!!!)

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creativefiend19 · 3 years

Text

A Raven Cycle kinky fic list

I made this for a Tumblr Anon. I’ve limited this to mostly one-shots to keep the focus on the kinky stuff.

There’s various kinks and pairings (and not just pairings sometimes) so please check the tags, warnings and relationships for each before you read.

Continued under the cut, in no particular order. Enjoy!

be lying if i said you ain't the one by @brophigenia - The week that Ronan and Blue take up macrame is the week that Adam realizes he may have a Thing for rope. And Ronan. Ronan with rope.

hold your breath and fall by @anirondack - First time Adansey sex feat. Gansey's sex fantasies and ridiculously sensitive neck (which Adam doesn't know about).

Red Thread by @seekthemist - (Multiple relationships and warnings) A/N: Collection of short, unapologetically dirty fics that I wrote as prompt fills from Tumblr asks. Every chapter will have an associated prompt sentence and a given (variable) couple.

those long hot summer nights by imalwaysstraight - Entropy had stuck with Ronan (...) and looking—yes, looking with his own damn eyes—at a nude photo of Adam Parrish on his own damn phone. Holy mother of God. Oh fuck.

My Wild Lover, My Wicked Beast by @linndechir - Ronan doesn't want to go home yet after Kavinsky's substance party. And this is not the kind of night when Gansey wants to hold him back.

So Good For Me by @beautifulmagick - Ronan wakes up from a sexy dream only to find Adam just as turned on as he is. Then, of course, the baby wakes up.

work a little harder, work another way by @toast-the-unknowing - Ronan has an unexpected kink, and Adam is totally fine with that. Why wouldn't he be? He can handle this. It's not a problem.

Take Me Home by @henriettahoney - Ronan didn’t get it. Not yet. He was still mentally rifling through possibilities. Maybe Adam was already considering the end of the summer too heavily (...) Maybe he truly was just tired. Ronan rested a hand on his thigh beneath the table, because, shut up, he could be a comforting boyfriend, and felt approximately ninety percent of his blood stop circulating.

backseat driving by @the-real-izzygone - (Rovinsky) Sex in the Camaro, post-crash.

when i take it out, you start cryin' by @brophigenia - “Weren’t you in Mad Max: Fury Road?” A skinny-looking kid in a pair of very short denim shorts slurred, pressing all along Ronan’s front and gazing up at him like he was a beautiful mirage. (...) Ronan and Adam have sex in a gay club bathroom. That's it. That's the fic.

verb in perfect view by jordanhennessy - 'You know,' said Adam, 'that I think you’re beautiful, right?' Ronan’s back went taut under his fingertips.

Mouth Open (1-2-3) by @flightspath - Adam takes it in, looks at Ronan’s open face again. There’s a flush of sweat beading at his hairline, and Ronan’s brow is smooth and unfurrowed. He looks peaceful. He looks filthy. He’s holding his mouth open, soft and wanting.

Your heart is heavy and red by @ninswhimsy - This is for everyone who knows implicitly that Declan Lynch needs to be completely wrecked until he cries and Jordan is just the woman to do it. Filthy, with feelings.

nothing else but the feeling by asael - No one would be able to tell that Adam is turning this into a careful, quiet seduction. That he’s teasing Ronan.

once is happenstance by @the-real-izzygone - In which Gansey has a lot of needs, and Declan provides for basically all of them.

iunctaque semper erunt nomina nostra tuis by sleeptodream - “It looks like nothing Adam’s ever experienced before, like a home.” (An unexpected encounter in the lead up to Christmas has Adam reflecting on what home means to him. Smut and feelings ensue.)

Patience Is A Virtue by @toast-the-unknowing - Adam is totally fine with waiting, until Ronan finds out that's what he's doing.

The Sword and the Shield by darkrosaleen - (Ronsey) A king is only as good as the sword in his knight's hand. A knight's sword is only as good as the devotion in his heart.

we are fixed right where we stand by @toast-the-unknowing - Ronan comes home from DC with a surprise for Adam, because just saying "I missed you" is boring.

As certain dark things are loved by @linndechir - "You keep talking about leashing me, Gansey, but you never do." Ronan licked his lips, a dirty challenge in his eyes that made Gansey take the leash from his hand despite his initial hesitation.

Territorial by @ohwhoopsok - The tattoo isn’t an offence. It’s a part of Ronan and while he finds some parts more tedious than others, Adam loves all of Ronan’s parts. But in this moment, it doesn’t seem quite fair that Ronan is bearing only the mark of a stranger on his back, beautiful though it is. (Adam Parrish is not used to having things and Ronan Lynch fancies decoration.)

Here Lost Amongst Our Winnings by @thetiredandthedreamers - Ronan doesn't remember saying yes but he's pretty sure that he didn't say no, either; somehow, Kavinsky knows exactly what he needs. (Warning: this fic has no tags at all on AO3. So this is me telling you that it’s unnegotiated dom/sub, with drugs, degradation, bondage and discipline. And Kavinksy ofc is his own blah blah).

the one with the kinkshaming by @arielmagicesi - A/N: “this is the worst thing I've ever done in my life. also the most sexual thing I've ever written considering it's basically a crack fic (mercilessly mocking Ronan and Adam for their weird kinks)”

everything we think we need by archer_of_fate - Gansey is home, Gansey is everything he wants but knows he can never have in the way Ronan needs him.

Send Nudes by @henriettahoney - It’s not like they’ve never explored this territory before. Not Adam and Gansey, but Adam and Gansey and Ronan. It’s been a long time. Since late high school, at least, and Adam’s twenty-two now—in his last year of undergrad. But he remembers everything about it. Remembers what Gansey sounds like when he’s verging on desperate. Spoiler alert: it’s just like this.

chased our shadows on the ground by @toast-the-unknowing - Adam had been afraid when he moved out of state that it was going to be hard to get Ronan to call him. It turns out that it's harder to get Ronan off of the phone.

Safe With Me by @babzgordon - Ronan requests a unique birthday present. Adam delivers. They can't be sexy without being losers about it.

As always, feel free to add to this list, if you have any recs.

#TRC #the raven cycle #Pynch #Adansey #Ronsey #Rodansey #Rovinsky #Adam Parrish #Richard Campbell Gansey III #Joseph Kavinsky #fic recs #mine #anonymous #asks #Q #TRC stuff

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hoe4almondmilk · 3 years

Text

Safety Net: Chapter 3

Present! Carol Denning/Reader

Trigger Warning: There is mentions of Attempted sexual assault, nothing in detail though.

“Oh, don’t be like that! Just give me a piece and I won’t make an arrest for reckless driving and possession.” The cop chuckled as he attempted to grab your shoulder.

“I said get the fuck away from me!” you yelled. You could smell the alcohol on his breath as his face approached yours.

He grabbed you by the shoulders, everything was happening so fast and yet it felt like it was all in slow motion. That's when you grabbed his gun from his waist and shot him.

You gasped, sitting up quickly. Your heart was pounding and your skin was slick with sweat from the nightmare. It took a few moments to finally catch your breath.

“Oh my god.” You groaned quietly, as you rubbed your eyes from exhaustion.

This was your first nightmare in a very long time. The last time you had a nightmare was back when you first arrived at camp but that was years ago and you were on antidepressants. You had almost forgotten how real they felt. How they brought you back to that horrific moment. The moment your life was turned upside down and changed for the worst.

“The fuck is wrong with you?” Carol groaned in a grumpy tone from underneath her bunk in a groggy voice interrupting your thoughts.

“Nothing. Just a nightmare.” You replied blankly as you laid back down.

After a few minutes of silence you heard Carol ask “You okay, kid?” Maybe you were delusional from being tired but you could’ve sworn you heard the slightest bit of concern in Carol’s voice.

“Not even a little bit.” You whispered as you attempted to hold back the tears.

It felt almost like hours before you could fall back asleep, scared your nightmare would continue if you closed your eyes.

“Wake the fuck up, Inmate.” C.O. Hellman yelled as he smacked the door of your cell, making a large clap noise that made you jump up from your sleep.

“Okay, I’m awake.” You groaned, as you rubbed your eyes and slid down from your bunk. You must’ve slept in pretty late, considering Carol was absent from her bunk.

After getting changed into your navy scrubs and brushing your teeth, you made your way out of your cell into the common area.

You scanned the room to see Carol at her usual spot playing bridge with the other women.

You and Carol were on good terms now after your agreement the other night. An hour before lights out she’d even spend some time with you, giving you a bridge lesson. Still you still really weren’t sure if you were on that level of familiarity with her yet to just go sit at her table. You looked over to see your two favorite people Piper and Alex and made your way towards them.

“Well, someone slept in pretty late.” Alex said as she looked up from her book.

“Yeah, I had some trouble sleeping last night and I guess my body made up for it.” You groaned and you got comfortable in your seat.

“(L/N), what happened to you the other night? I can still see the bruises on your neck.” Piper inquired.

“Oh, shit.” Alex hissed as she leaned in to take a closer look at the now yellow bruising on your neck.

“I’d rather not talk about it.” Your hand rubbed your neck as a pathetic attempt to shield the bruises.

“Was it Badison?” Piper’s eyes widened. “You see Alex, I told you Badison is fucking crazy.”

“Chapman, shush!” You hushed Piper. “Seriously, watch what you say around here.”

“So it was Badison?” Piper whispered.

“Jesus, yes, Chapman. Listen, I have it taken care of, okay?.” You groaned, you did not want what happened to you the other night in the showers happening to her.

“If you say so.” Piper sighed as she looked over to Alex in hopes for a response. Alex just shrugged her shoulders.

“Well, speak of the devil.” Alex warned as Badison made her way over to your table.”

“Hey lezzies, sorry to interrupt but Carol wants to see Mouse.” Badison chuckled. “Now.” She demanded.

“Well, off I go.” You sighed as you got up from your spot following the rambunctious blonde.

It’s safe to say you probably should’ve sat with Carol when you entered the common room. Hopefully, she’s not too upset. How could you have known? You gulped out of nervousness. What if you did piss her off? If Badison could get two girls to jump you in the shower imagine the damage Carol could do if she really wanted to.

You quickly snapped out of your thoughts when you made it over to Carol’s table. Akers, Creech, Teng, Brock, Chambal and of course Carol were all sitting at the table. Badison sat down in front of Carol. You could feel not only her eyes on you but the eyes of the other women who sat around Carol.

“Brock, move.” Carol said not looking up from her cards.

Brock rolled her eyes as she got up and away from her spot next Carol.

Carol looked up from her the cards in her hands and met your eyes with hers. “Sit.”

You nodded and sat next to her, filling in Brock’s spot.

“It’s your turn to switch in.” Carol slid the deck of cards to you.

“What is she doing here?” Teng grunted obviously annoyed by your presence at the table.

You couldn’t really blame her, Badison did order her to go jump you and made you out to be an enemy, yet here you were sitting next to Carol playing bridge.

Carol looked up from her cards and glared at Teng. “She works with us now.”

“So, Mouse. What the fuck are you in here for?” Badison smirked. You could feel the eyes of everyone at the table on you, except Carol who was too focused on the cards in her hands.

“I’d really rather not talk about it.” You replied as you drew a couple of cards trying to focus on the game.

You actually hadn’t told really anyone about why you were in prison in the first place but camp was small so word got around and so did rumors about what you had done, most of which weren’t true. You didn’t care, let them think what they want. You wanted to do your time and leave this place behind. But of course, your luck, the riot happened as you only had three years left of your seven year sentence.

You were at maximum now, things were different here. You were surrounded by some of the most violent types of offenders. Maybe you should’ve been here in the first place. No, you shouldn’t. You did what you had to do.

“Probably something petty, you did come here from minimum.” She chuckled. “Ain’t nothin tough about you.” It took everything in you not to roll your eyes at her.

“Madison.” Carol cautioned with a glare. After a few moments of silence, Carol asked “Are you gonna tell us?”, as she glanced over at you waiting for an answer.

Should you lie? No, no definitely not. Carol was the boss, she could probably have a CO find out for her if she really wanted to and she'd have your head if she found out you lied to her.

“I shot a cop.” You muttered as you pulled another card from the deck. You looked up when you noticed the wave of silence that washed over the entire table. Everyone was shocked to say the least. Even Carol whose face normally wore a blank expression looked slightly surprised with one of her eyebrows raised.

“Damn, Mouse is a cop killer!” Creech laughed.

“Yo, that’s badass!” Akers joined in with Creech. Both women were laughing in unison.

“Bullshit.” Badison laughed. “You just want to look tough.”

“It’s true.” You replied, as you sank further into your seat. Just wanting the attention to shift away from you.

And unfortunately you were telling the truth but you couldn’t blame her for not believing you or anyone for that matter. You hated people finding out what you did. You didn’t necessarily regret what happened but you hated the way people saw you after you told them. Especially in prison, it gave a false image of you. You weren’t a violent person nor did you ever try to appear as one.

“Then why were you in minimum “cop killer”?'' Badison leaned forward, asking almost as if she was challenging you. Everything was a competition to her.

You slammed the cards down on the table. “Not that it’s any of your business, Badison, but I didn’t kill him and it was self defense.”

“I’m not buying it.” Badison continued.

“I don’t have to prove anything to you, Badison.” You scoffed, as you once again tried to center your focus back to the game.

“Well that’s a shame cause you really sho-“

“Madison.” Carol interrupted her mid sentence “Stop.” Her eyes burning onto the loud blonde, obviously having enough of Badison starting petty pointless fights.

You tried your best to stop the corners of your mouth from curving into a small smile. It was nice knowing Carol was keeping her end of the deal.

Badison gulped and did as Carol said.

“You know what,” Carol put her deck of cards down. “Madison, Scat.”

“What?” Badison asked almost dumbfounded.

“Unless you can play bridge well, all of a sudden, go. You’re annoying me.” Carol continued her glare at Badison.

“Fine.” Badison stood up from her spot and slowly trudged off, anger obvious in every step.

Normally you would’ve been scared but you weren’t. Badison knew she was already crossing the line with Carol’s patience. She knew not to fuck with you like she did last time.

“Let’s start over.” Carol sighed as she began to reshuffle the thick deck of playing cards.

After an hour of non stop rounds of bridge, Carol decided to take a break. She needed to talk to Badison about their new haul of pills. You weren’t complaining, your ass was starting to hurt from sitting on the hard plastic seat for so long. You headed up the stairs to your cell to lay down for a bit. You let out a quiet groan, as you rubbed your lower back. Your lower back definitely needed a break too.

“Psst.” You heard a voice whisper to you right before you walked into your cell, stopping you in your tracks. God it better not be fuckin Badison. You looked over and almost screamed. It was Nicky.

“Long time no see, Doll.” Nicky chuckled as she leaned against the custodial cart.

“Nicky,” It took everything in you not to run into her arms and hug the absolute shit out of her. “I- How-... What are you doing here?”

You couldn’t believe your eyes, you hadn’t seen Nicky since you guys were in Ad Seg but you two couldn’t really even have a real conversation because of the asshole guards.

Nicky was one of the few real friends you had at camp. You remember the day she first arrived to camp. You two had been inseparable since and not that you would ever admit it but at one point you had a slight crush on her. You never mentioned it nor would you ever mention it to her because you value your friendship with Nicky more.

“What, not happy to see me?” She chuckled as she faked a pout.

You looked around to make sure no one was looking, seriously not needing another jumping. You smiled looking back at her, “I’m so happy, if I could hug you and not get jumped I would.”

Nicky’s smile quickly faded when her eyes landed on your neck, “A second time? What the fuck happened?”

You groaned, damn how long were these bruises gonna stay. “I don’t want to talk about it, it won’t happen again.”

Nicky rolled her eyes and she gripped the mop in her hands tighter, her anger was obvious.“Who did that to you? I swear I’ll-“

“You’ll what? You’ll get jumped too, Nicky. It’s not like camp. Red can’t protect us here. Where is she anyway? Is she in D-Block with you?” The last time you saw Red was in Ad Seg.

“No, She must still be in Ad Seg.” Nicky looked hurt answering that. You wanted to hug her. It was painful knowing you couldn’t.

“How are you, Nicky? Seriously, I fuckin miss you.” You could feel your eyes watering up.

Nicky sniffled, “I miss you too,” She wiped her eyes, “You know, I’ve been better, Lorna and her bunkie adopted a pack of rats so I’ve had to hear about that for the past four days.” Nicky chuckled.

“Ew, that’s gross.” You chuckled softly.

“Nichols!” CO Blake yelled. “There’s a spill down here!”

“Heigh-ho, off to work I go.” Nicky groaned, as she started to wheel her cart away, She turned around to say “I miss you, kid.” sadly.

“I miss you too, Nicky. More than you could know.” You replied, you slowly turned around trying to soak up as much of her image as you could before you made your way back into your cell.

You quickly wiped the tears from your eyes before anyone saw. You hated it here. None of you deserved to be in here. You wanted your prison family back even if it was a dysfunctional mess.

You crawled up your bunk and into your bed, plopping face down into your very thin pillow. Praying that you’d just wake up from all of this and be back home with your family before all of this mess happened. Prison was a tortuous hell.

Snapping you out of the hypnotizing darkness that was your pillow, you heard, “It’s barely noon and you’re asleep again?”

You lifted your head up to see Carol leaning against the entrance of the cell.

You let out a groan as you flipped onto your back, as you faced the ceiling. “I wasn’t sleeping.”

“That’s surprising.” Carol chuckled as she strolled into the cell and sat herself down on her bed. “You’re so young, what do you have to be tired about?”

You rolled your eyes, you absolutely hated it when people told you that, it was so annoying. “You know, that’s really invalidating.” You sat up on your bed, leaning your body towards the edge of the bed so you could look at her.

Carol was hardly listening, too focused on her magazine and lollipop. “Invalidating, how so?” She gave you a glance, taking a minuscule break from her scantily clad men.

“You’re just assuming, I have nothing to worry about solely because of the fact that I'm young. I don’t even feel young because of the place. Prison has robbed me of my youth. I should be in college.” You looked up at the ceiling and sighed. “I should be anywhere but here.”

Carol was silent for a moment, looking at you. “How long have you been in here?”

“I was eighteen, when it happened. I just graduated high school.”

“Eighteen.” Carol repeated, She chuckled. “You were about my age when I first got here.”

“You’ve been in here since you were eighteen?” You asked, you were shocked. Carol’s spent her whole life in this place and by the looks of how she runs things here, she wouldn’t be getting out anytime soon.

“Crazy, isn’t it? It’s gone by so excruciatingly slow yet time flew by so fast.” She sighed as she removed her glasses from her face to rub her eyes. There was a hint of sadness and yet some passive aggressiveness in her voice. “It was originally just twenty-five years but I was betrayed by someone I cared about and so I got an extra thirty stacked on top.” She leaned her head against the wall of her bunk.

An “I’m sorry, Carol.” was all you could say, was there anything else you could say? This woman has spent her whole life in this place and was most likely going to die here, yet for some reason you thought you had the right to complain about a measly seven years.

“It doesn’t matter. I’m different now. I’ve learned not to trust anyone here so easily.” She put her glasses back on her face. There was a moment of silence. “So, exactly why did you shoot that cop, tough girl?”

“It’s hard to talk about.” You muttered. “I have so many mixed feelings about what happened.”

“Sit down here with me.” Carol invited, scooting over to where her pillow laid.

You nodded as you climbed down from your bed to hers, not wasting this act of kindness from Carol. You knew she was cold blooded and was rarely kind to anyone. So far though, she made an exception for you. You just took it as her being nice because you were new and could offer something for her business.

You sat down on her bed, pulling your knees to your chest. “I didn’t intend to shoot him. That was the last thing I wanted to do but I didn’t have any other choice.” Your voice became hoarse as you tried to hold back the tears.

Carol watched and listened to you in silence.

“I had to, I wasn’t going to let him rape me. That’s what he wanted. I saw how he looked at me and how he grabbed me. I can still feel his grasp on my arms.” Tears fell from your eyes. Three years later and it was still so hard to talk about. You should be getting proper counseling, not the bullshit you were getting from Healy back at camp.

“Is that why you woke up last night?” Carol asked. You looked over at her and her expression was soft. Before it was a word that couldn’t be put with Carol. She was hard, tough and cold. Yet somehow she was showing you sympathy.

You nodded. “This was my first nightmare in years. My last one was when I first arrived at camp.” You wiped your tears away and chuckled. “What’s so fucked up is I’m the victim and yet I'm the one in prison. They decided his gunshot wound was his punishment.”

You flinched when you felt Carol’s hand touch your back. Your muscles slowly relaxed when she began to rub your back. She didn’t say anything for a moment there. She didn’t need to. Her hand on your back was all she needed to say. This was the first time in a while you had felt someone show you slightest bit of affection. It was nice. You were touch starved.

“Thank you.” You gave Carol a small smile.

And she smiled back at you.

#carol denning #carol denning x reader #carol denning/reader #oitnb #oitnb fanfic

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smilesthroughfandoms · 3 years

Text

Every single episode of Ducktales (2017) Summarized in Roughly in One Sentence or Less!

Thank you Frank and team so much for introducing this family to a new generation of kids while remaining faithful to your source material. I hope you all enjoy my attempts at humor!

Woo-oo!: We don’t really know what’s going on yet but let’s do this!

Escape To/From Atlantis!: “Well I’m wearing a kilt McDuck! A kiiiilt!”

Daytrip of Doom!: They’re all siblings now and I love them all.

The Great Dime Chase!: “Shut up, everyone! I’ve done something brilliant!” (Also: Guess’s who my favorite character is?)

The Beagle Birthday Breakout!: Lena and Webby are best girls, fight me on this

Terror of the Terra-firmians!: This is the Spoopiest episode and also the most heartwarming.

The House of the Lucky Gander!: He’s an asshole but I love him.

The Infernal Internship of Mark Beaks!: He’s an even bigger asshole but I love him.

The Living Mummies of Toth-Ra!: I too would do anything for a good burrito.

The Impossible Summit of Mt. Neverrest!: “If I had a nickel for every person who cursed me with their dying breath, I’d be twice as rich as I already am.”

The Spear of Selene!: Of course Scrooge showed up freaking Zeus.

Beware the B.U.D.D.Y System!: The fusion of Iron Man and Sailor Moon I never knew I always wanted.

The Missing Links of Moorshire!: I always knew My Little Pony had a deadly fandom but this is ridiculous…

Mystery at McDuck Manor!: Took you long enough, Duckworth, welcome back.

Jaw$!: In this house, we love and respect Tiffany. (Also: Whoever came up with this episode title is the coolest person ever)

The Golden Lagoon of White Agony Plains!: Scrooge and Glomgold are in love with Allison Janney, and honestly, same.

Day of the Only Child!: Doofus is even creepier than Lil’ Gideon, and that is saying something.

From the Confidential Casefiles of Agent 22!: *hums James Bond theme intensely to myself*

Who is Gizmoduck?!: He’s not throwing away his shot! (I’m sorry, I had to)

The Other Bin of Scrooge McDuck!: I love Louie in this episode, he’s such a mood.

Sky Pirates… in the Sky!: The Pirates of the Caribbean meets High School Music crossover starring evil Panchito I never knew I needed.

The Secret(s) of Castle McDuck!: We’re all Webby in this episode.

The Last Crash of the Sunchaser!: *ugly sobbing*

The Shadow War, Part 1: Night of De Spell!: Donald finally gets the love he deserves.

The Shadow War Part 2: Day of the Ducks!: *spoiler warning* How is she still alive?!?!?!

The Most Dangerous Game… Night!: David screaming “GAME NIGHT!” is the best damn thing I’ve ever seen.

The Depths of Cousin Fethry!: I love Cousin Spongebob!

The Ballad of Duke Baloney!: Dammit, Frank.

The Town Where Everyone Was Nice!: They’re boyfriends mates, sorry I don’t make the rules.

Storkules in Duckburg!: Storkules is the ultimate Donald Duck fan, we cannot comepete.

Last Christmas!: Somehow the Ghost of Christmas McBrayer is the least surprising thing I’ve ever seen in this show.

Whatever Happened to Della Duck?!: Oh, so that’s how she survived.

Treasure of the Found Lamp!: Dijin is the best character.

The Outlaw Scrooge McDuck!: Yee–and I cannot stress this enough–haw.

The 87 Cent Solution!: *wheezing* Dammit, Frank…

The Golden Spear!: Oh my god, they were roommates!

Nothing Can Stop Della Duck!: Dammit, Frank!

Raiders of the Doomsday Vault!: “So stand out, above the crowd! Even if I gotta shout it out loud!”

Friendship Hates Magic!: Webby gets two friends for the price of one seance!

The Dangerous Chemistry of Gandra Dee!: BEAKS SMASH… THAT LIKE BUTTON! (I’m so sorry)

The Duck Knight Returns!: *spoilers* The single best superhero, origin story-based episode ever!

Whatever Happened To Donald Duck?!: *sobbing* He’s a good dad!

Happy Birthday, Doofus Drake!: This entire episode is creepier than most indie horror games.

A Nightmare on Killmotor Hill!: All the kids’ dreams are moods… except Huey’s, his dream can go jump off a microwave.

The Golden Army of Cornelius Coot!: Della is just pulling a Donald and adopting any and all kids within arms reach at this point.

Timephoon!: “I’m on it!” *gets struck by lightning* “I’ve immediately failed you!”

Glomtales!: I don’t know what’s more surprising, the fact that Louie won the bet or that they used Glomgold’s theme song takeover as the intro.

The Richest Duck in the World!: Drag them, Owlson. Drag them all…

Moonvasion! Part 1: *deep inhale* D A M M I T F R A N K!

Moonvasion! Part 2: Glomgold is my new favorite villain character.

Challenge of the Senior Junior Woodchuck!: Huey and Violet fight for the right to be crowned the squarest of squares.

Quack Pack!: Radical dude! *insert cheesy 90s riff here*

Double-O Duck in You Only Crash Twice!: We were all simping SO HARD this episode don’t think I forgot!!!

The Lost Harp of Mervana!: Scrooge fails a vibe check.

Louie’s Eleven!: Is it really a heist movie if something doesn’t go completely wrong?

Astro B.O.Y.D.!: So much ANIME!!!!!!

The Rumble for Ragnarok!: Eh, the MCU did it better

The Phantom and the Sorceress!: Seeing Gladstone suffer brings me an odd amount of joy

They Put a Moonlander on Earth!: They’re lesbians, Harold!

The Trickening!: Did… did no one really tell Launchpad how Halloween works?

The Forbidden Fountain of the Foreverglades!: If I had a nickel for every time a cartoon version of Ponce de Leon died a gruesome death on screen, I’d have two nickels, which isn’t a lot but it’s weird that it happened twice, right?

Let’s Get Dangerous!: *spoilers* THEY ARE A SUPERHERO FAMILY!!!!

Escape from the ImpossiBin!: Scrooge and Beakley are a little too excited to traumatize their family because of their trauma.

The Split Sword of Swanstantine!: Dewey and Webby literally walk in blind, Violet spices things up, and Huey unleashes the Rage™

New Gods on the Block!: The most accurate representation of Zeus ever.

The First Adventure!: Young Donald is one heck of a mood.

The Fight for Castle McDuck!: The sibling culture episode.

How Santa Stole Christmas!: Charles Dickens would approve, probably.

Beaks in the Shell!: Huey ships Fendra and Gyro needs to stop hiding in the closet.

The Lost Cargo of Kit Cloudkicker!: The Battle of Theatre Kids... in the Sky!

The Life and Crimes of Scrooge McDuck!: All the emotional weight was nearly overshadowed by One (1) attractive goth twink.

The Last Adventure Part 1; A Tale of Three Webbys!: They’re so cute! I love them!

The Last Adventure Part 2; The Lost Library of Isabella Finch!: Letting the kids on the plane is the single smartest decision Scrooge has ever made in his life.

The Last Adventure Part 3; Tale’s End!: *ugly, happy, heartbreaking sobbing* Woo-oo!

#ducktales 2017 #ducktales season 1 #ducktales season 2 #ducktales season 3 #dt 17 #ducktales spoilers #dt 17 spoilers #frank angones #don't repost #smilesthroughfandoms

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saksukei · 3 years

Text

jeon wonwoo college au

other college aus; jun minghao mingyu

wonwoo was a math major, who had physics as a minor,, and he was also the captain of the basketball team,, he was one of the most popular boys in uni,, like there were literal fanclubs form wonwoo that went to every game of his!!

you were also a math major and yes wonu was most definitely in your class,, but you had never talked to him and you were pretty sure he didn't even know you existed

“GUYS” the class monitor, seungcheol exclaimed. “the dance majors have challenged us to a basketball match,, the losing team will treat the others for meat!”

“we are obviously going to win,, we have wonwoo in our class,” someone said.

“actually, the dance majors are taking help from the sports majors,,” seungcheol replied. “but they agreed that at least three girls needed to be on the team and only the points the girls score will be counted.”

“we are going to lose so bad,, none of us are athletic,,,” another one of your classmates replied.

“me, wonwoo and mingyu can train the players but we need some girls to volunteer.”

before seungcheol could call out your name, you hid behind your book so that he could temporarily forget your existence,,, he had already picked two other girls

“alright we have two players and now we just need one more–” seungcheol announced

And you were praying to God it wouldn't be you

BUT life truly is a pain in the ass

“y/n seems like she'd be good at basketball–” someone suggested.

You lifted your head up from your book to find the source of the voice and

JEON WONWOO???

JEON WONWOO SUGGESTED THAT YOU SHOULD PLAY?

you were like (●__●)

“alright, y/n it is!” seungcheol announced

you sighed, as you grabbed your books and shoved them in your bag and headed out of class

“wait,,” you heard someone behind you

and it was wonwoo

“uh hey what's up?” you asked

“sorry I suggested your name– you have a good height and you seemed like you'd be good at basketball,” he answered.

“that's okay,” you gave a weak smile. “i'll figure it out.”

“i'll train you,” he informed you. “seungcheol said there's almost two weeks before the match– so there's nothing to worry about.”

“except the fact that I could embarrass myself infront of maybe fifty people?” you joked.

and he smiled???

AND HOLY SHIT THE HYPE ABOUT HIS LOOKS IS REAL HES SO DAMN FINE AND YOURE JUST NOTICING

“i promise I won't let that happen,” he reassured. “and if it does happen, I'll embarrass myself too.”

“please,, you're so good looking that–” you stopped mid sentence as you realized what you had said.

“i'm so good looking that?” wonwoo teased.

“see this is what I mean when I said I'd embarrass myself,,” you hid your face between your hands, causing him to chuckle.

“its alright” he smiled. “i have another class, so I'll be seeing you at the basketball practice, right?”

“no promises!” you say,, as you bid him a goodbye,,

oKAY SO NOW YOU UNDERSTAND WHY PEOPLE SIMP FOR WONU HES SO SWEET NSHDNWHS YOURE cOMBUSTING

the next two weeks you ended up practicing with him and he's very patient while teaching you

and you start to notice him things about him,, like the way his hair falls on his face when he’s playing, his toned arms and that lil side smile he gave every now and then made your heart flutter

and like,,

now you've developed this fat crush on him bec he's just w O W Z A

on the day of the basketball match, everyone has these matching jerseys that mingyu ordered b u t instead of ordering one for you he ordered two for wonwoo

“what do we do now?” mingyu asked you.

“i don't know” you reply, confused.

“you can just wear the same one. I'm fine with it,” wonwoo told you.

“alright then.”

mingyu was sHOCKED BEC JEON WONWOO BARELY ACKNOWLEDGED OTHER HUMAN BEINGS BUT HE ALLOWED YOU TO WEAR THE JERSEY WITH HIS NAME??

so there you were wearing wonwoo's jersey that was a bit too big on you,,, the name on the back being ‘JEON’,,, you were pretty sure you were marked for death by his fanclub,,

And yOUR HEART WAS GOING BADUMP!

n e ways

YOUR CLASS WON!!!

THANKS TO WONWOOS TRAINING YOU HAD SCORED SO MANY 3 POINTERS AND EVERY TIME YOU LOCKED EYES WITH HIM

HE SMILED AND GAVE YOU A THUMBS UP!!

after the match, the art majors + sport majors + math majors headed off towards the restaurant for the treat

you changed and you found wonwoo waiting outside

“hey um,,, I thought you left for the restaurant already?” you asked him.

“no actually I was waiting for you,” he answered. “everyone already went.”

You nodded, as you two walked towards the restaurant.

“by the way you did a great job with playing today,,, the team only won because of you,” he complimented

“well– it was because I had an amazing teacher,,” you replied. “that also stopped me from embarrassing myself.”

“well what'd I tell ya”

“you were right,” you smiled. “and I'll also give you back your jersey and the shorts, once I get them washed.”

“no, you can keep them,” he replied. “besides my jerseys suit you better than they suit me,,, after all, you're so good looking,” he teased.

“oh come on, you need to stop teasing me!” you hit his shoulder lightly,

but he instinctively caught your wrist and pulled you closer to him, you could feel his breath tickling your ear

your heart was racing

“then maybe we should go out and be the basketball playing couple, after all, my name really does look good on you.”

#seventeen #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #seventeen headcanons #seventeen x you #seventeen x reader #seventeen x y/n #jeon wonu #jeon wonwoo #wonwoo imagines #wonwoo #seventeen wonu #seventeen wonwoo #jeon wonwoo imagines #wonwoo seventeen

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allthingskakashi · 4 years

Text

• Birthday Boy •

[ Kakashi x Reader ] | 3 Chapters // 17. 2k words |

This is hella long so if you’d rather read on Ao3, here’s my Ao3 link

A/n : slight shift from canon cause Gai is still capable of walking even after the war

CHAPTER - 1 (2 days to go!)

You let out a sigh, your eyes glancing over to the small desk calendar sitting in front of you.

September 13th.

A photograph of bright pink cherry blossom trees stands out on the glossy white page.

Just one more day. Just one more day and you still have absolutely no idea.

Your teeth grit unconsciously on the plastic cap of your pen as you look at the papers laid out on the table. You still have so much paperwork to get through. How, when or what you’ll plan for Kakashi’s birthday is beyond you.

You let out another loud sigh, the air making the papers in front of you shuffle just a little.

“Three.”

“Huh?” the voice brings you out of your stupor, and you look up at the purple haired woman sitting across from you, immersed in her own work.

“That was your third sigh.” Anko states, looking up at you with her eyebrows furrowed. “What’s going on with you?”

You lay your pen down on the desk, resting your forehead against your hands to massage your throbbing temples.

“Nothing, I’m just so overloaded with work, I barely have time to breathe.” You reply, dark bags under your eyes serving as witnesses. “And on top of that…Kakashi’s birthday is coming up and I really want to plan something special for him. But with all this work, I don’t know when I’ll get the time. And even more importantly, I haven’t the slightest idea what to do.” You say, leaning back against your chair to look up at the ceiling.

Anko stares back at you, her otherwise impassive face broken only by the slightest hint of sympathy behind her eyes.

“Really? Well, you better ask that old miser to pay up and throw us a party. He’s Hokage and what not now.”

Her words elicit an immediate eye roll from you. Protectiveness towards your boyfriend aside, that’s a completely ridiculous statement.

“Shouldn’t I be the one to throw HIM a party?” you retort as you slouch forward resting your elbows on the table, staring at your smirking friend in despair.

“What am I going to do, Anko? He’s been so busy since he became Hokage, I really want to make this one day special for him.”

The look on your face is so miserable, it makes even Anko soften up just a little.

“I don’t know Y/n.” she shrugs, “I don’t usually stick around long enough to have to think of this kind of crap. Just hand him two beers I guess, put on a nice push-up bra and you’re golden.”

You narrow your eyes, shaking your head at her. “I have to give him a present too”

“Wear a bra with a bow on it.”

If you didn’t know Anko better, you’d have thought she was joking.

You sigh again. This is a lost cause, talking to Anko about this.

“UGHHHHH!! You’re completely useless!!” you cry out, bending forward and making a show of banging your head against the wooden table as she laughs, watching you with a pitiful look.

“Hell-o Anko! Y/n! Correct me if I am wrong but I think I just overheard my dear rival’s name!”

A familiar voice fills the room and you stop to turn your head at the sudden intrusion.

It’s none other than Maito Gai, and the air surrounding you almost immediately livens up at his presence.

“I hear you are confused about what to do for Kakashi’s birthday! Fear not Y/n! I am here and I will help you make sure that my dear rival has the best birthday he has ever had in his entire life!”

You perk up at his words, looking at the man standing by your side.

Now that’s the spirit you’re looking for.

“Thank you so much Gai! You came in at the right time! What do you have in mind?”

Gai hurries to take a seat beside you as you turn around to face him, your eager eyes widened with interest.

“Hmmm, let me think…” he puts a finger on his chin before clicking his fingers. “A nice intimate evening with good food and tasteful music and lots of activities to celebrate the Power of Youth!!!” he says, before standing up again with his fist in the air.

You let out a wide grin at his words, that sounds absolutely perfect.

A nice intimate evening, just you and Kakashi. You could maybe cook up something, he’s taught you quite a lot of recipes lately. And music, yes. He has never been one to listen to much music but it’ll set the mood.

And activities to celebrate the power of youth… yeah, you can surely think of quite a few of those. A red tinge creeps onto your cheeks at the thought.

How you would manage the time is still a question but now that you at least have a fair idea, you can probably work something out.

“Thank you so much Gai!” you say, clasping the man’s large hands with your smaller ones. “I don’t know what I’d do without you. That sounds absolutely perfect!”

His eyes light up at your words. “You are very welcome Y/n! It is only my duty as Kakashi’s rival!”

You can hear him say something else in the background but your mind is already wandering, flooding your brain with all sorts of visuals. Expensive wine, the very best…a candlelight dinner…Kakashi looking so intensely into your eyes as you brush your foot up his leg under the table…bed laden with red rose petals…a night of passion…the spark in Kakashi’s eyes as he sees everything you’ve arranged so lovingly for him… a sensual melody playing in the background as he strips you of your clothes, one by one….

You shake your head. Now is not the time to be getting carried away.

You return your attention to Gai, whose last few sentences you missed as your mind became preoccupied with thoughts of everything that you’d like the Hokage to do to you.

“—And leave it all to me!”

“Sorry, what was that, Gai?” you ask as you watch Anko out of the corner of your eye, looking as if she’s choking on air for some reason.

“You heard me, y/n! I will set everything up, you don’t have to worry about a thing!” he sings, clasping your shoulders with his hands.

“Well thank you for the offer Gai but actually—”

“No! I won’t listen to a single word!” he shakes his finger at you, “you can leave it all to me! You go get on with your work! I will get the BEST caterer-

Caterer? What do we need a caterer fo-

“and hire the best singers in the village-

Wait what is he talking about, am I missing something-

And set up some great challenges for people to enjoy! I’m thinking 6000 push ups, a cake eating competition and of course the lucky winner gets a chance to compete with my one and only rival—

Hold up-

“And I will send out invitations to all his friends! All you have to do Y/n is bring him and yourself at my house on the evening of his birthday!”

WAIT JUST A DAMN MINUTE-

“Wait, GAI, I think there’s been a—"

“Please do not thank me, y/n! As Kakashi’s eternal rival, it is only my duty to make sure he has the best time of his life! I would be very happy to set everything up!”

“Um, no actually I—" you start, but you’re cut off quickly by the zealous man.

“Don’t worry! You can still take care of his birthday cake, I will leave that to your impeccable taste!”

“Right, sure but—"

“Well, off I go then! I have a party to plan!”

“Gai—” you make one last weak attempt but you’re so baffled by the pace of events that your feet stand glued. You stare dumfounded after Gai, watching him walk out of the room, skipping with every stride.

Beside you, Anko’s cheeks glisten with tears as she clutches her stomach with both hands, chortling in such a fit that almost makes her slip off her chair.

A sudden dizziness threatens to take over your senses. You stand frozen with your arms hanging limp by your sides, resisting the urge to fling yourself face first into a wall.

You throw another menacing glare at your friend, your gaze shifting between her and the door that Gai walked out of few seconds ago, before you plop down on the floor with a thud, sitting down with your legs crossed, gaping blankly at the tiled ground with your head between your hands.

What the hell just happened.

CHAPTER - 2 (1 day to go!)

You force your eyes open at the sound of your alarm. Your skin feels damp against the heavy quilted blanket, the light from the windows is too bright and a headache clasps a tight grip on your forehead.

You shake your legs to get the duvet down your body and turn on your stomach to turn that horrible beeping off. Your hand flounders around your nightstand, knocking a few things down before you find the damn clock and pound it against the wall a few times until it shuts up.

Turning on your back again, you rub your eyes and sweep away the several strands of hair sticking to your face.

14th September, reads the calendar hung on the opposite wall.

Great. Another Monday. And a day closer to Kakashi’s birthday.

You feel an instant panic rising to your throat at the thought. Kakashi’s Birthday. Goddamn.

Gai has gone into complete party planner mode, you saw him rushing manically through the village over twenty-five times since yesterday, trying his hardest to be subtle; so you suppose you’re having a party after all.

You let out a sigh, massaging your temples. God this headache is turning out to be a real bitch.

The thoughts start swirling in your head again.

Kakashi’s not really the party kinda guy, and definitely not the kind Gai’s planning. This is so not what you had in mind, but…Gai looked so eager and excited, talking about the party with such a shine in his eyes, you just couldn’t strip him off of that. Moreover, ever since his injury in the war, Gai has been prohibited from missions outside the village. To a man of his vigour, it’s as good as being put into coma. This is the one thing that seemed to make him truly happy in ages, so to take that away from him… no, you cannot do that.

But at the same time, you really want the day to be special for Kakashi. You want to make it memorable for him and show him how much you love him.

Ugh.

Your stomach grumbles as you hang your legs down your bedside, preparing to get out of bed. You were so immersed in work last night that you forgot to eat dinner. You’d fallen asleep at the desk itself but you woke up in the morning to find yourself tucked in your bed.

You shuffle your feet around, trying to find to your slippers but they’re nowhere to be found.

“Kakashi!” you yell out, your voice still groggy from sleep. “Are you wearing my fucking slippers again?”

There’s some distant noise of things clattering in the kitchen before Kakashi’s figure comes into view at the doorway, wearing nothing but a pair of joggers, holding a mug of coffee in each hand. He stands leaning on the doorframe as he takes a sip from his mug and the sight of him is one for sore eyes, enough to crumple that temper of yours into a puddle of lovestruck mush.

“Good morning to you too” he smirks as he comes near you, placing the other cup of coffee on the nightstand and planting a kiss on your head before bending down to pick up the things that had dropped on the ground earlier.

He reaches under the bed and pulls a pair of slippers out, placing them near your feet before keeping the other things back in their place on the stand. Your lip balm, hairclips, a few pens, his book and some loose sheets.

You slide your feet into the slippers, your face contorting into an apologetic look as you watch him.

“I’m sorry” you say in a whisper, admiring the way the muscles on his arms flex as he picks the things up. “I’ve been a little stressed lately.”

“I know” he says, his tone concerned as he comes up and sits beside you on the bed. “Why don’t you take a day off?”

“Oh no, I can’t, there’s so much to do, I have so much paperwork and I need to go through these files to check for—”

“Y/n.” Kakashi cuts you off, taking your hand in his. “It’s okay. Take a day off. Call in sick. You’re putting too much pressure on yourself. Take the day off and stay in bed, I’ll have someone pick up something for you from that restaurant down the street for lunch.” He says, stroking the back of your hand with his thumb.

“But Kakashi—”

“Nope. The Hokage orders it.” he says as you lean forward and sigh into his chest.

“I wish I could Kakashi….”

He wraps his arms around you, rubbing your back. “I knew I couldn’t convince you but it was worth a try” he says into your hair as you close your eyes, snuggling closer to him. The feel of his strong arms around you almost lulls you to sleep, enveloping you with such warmth and comfort that makes you wish you could stay this way forever.

You feel yourself almost dozing off against his chest so you pull away, planting a quick peck on his bare skin before relieving yourself of his grip. “Alright Lord Sixth, time to go to work” you say, patting him on the thigh.

He chuckles, nodding and taking the last sip of his coffee before getting up from the bed. “I left some toasts for you, eat before you go”

He turns around to walk away but you’re quick to catch his wrist before he leaves. “Hey.” You say softly as he stops, turning around to smile at you with a twinkle in his eyes.

“I love you” you say, pulling him down to you with a tug and placing a kiss on his lips.

He reciprocates, before pulling back to look into your eyes. You feel yourself melting under his gaze as you can’t help but smile like a twelve- year old girl.

“I love you too but your breath stinks worse than a dead rat” he says flatly without taking his eyes off you.

You fling his wrist out of your grip immediately, pushing him aside to get up from the bed. “Kakashi, you fucking asshole!” you scream, throwing a few punches at his arm as he chuckles and blocks them.

“I was trying to have a moment, you jerk!” you say, throwing a last jab at his stomach, before walking away past him, towards the direction of the bathroom, his laughter still ringing behind you.

Stupid asshole, you smile to yourself, shaking your head as you lock the bathroom door and turn the shower on.

…………………………………………

You watch white cotton clouds sailing across the sky overhead as you make your way down your usual work route. You might have appreciated the view a little more if your mind wasn’t entirely jammed and you weren’t surviving of off only 3 hours of sleep, walking around like you just rose back from the dead.

You already know you’re going to be late to work today, but that simply cannot he helped. You have to make this detour. You have to at least give this a shot.

You turn a street corner, a one storeyed white building with a fenced gate slowly coming into view as you walk ahead. Standing outside the gate, you open the latch, walking along the pavement which leads to the main door of the house.

You knock softly on the door, waiting for a response from the other side. There’s some shuffling behind and then the door opens, revealing Gai in a robe with the belts hanging loose. You notice him wearing a bright coloured boxer with banana prints on it, and his hair looks dishevelled, like he just woke up.

“Good morning, Gai! Um… I’m sorry to drop by so early, but there’s something I need to discuss with you.”

“Y/n! Come on in! It’s no problem, my morning is only made better by your radiating face!” he pipes, stepping aside to usher you in.

Only this man can sound so chirpy even with someone barging into their house during the early hours of the day.

“I apologise for my state, I was…. Finishing some business.” he says, taking the belts of his robe and tightening it around his waist.

You stand awkwardly as he closes the door, wondering how on earth you’ll bring this up with him. You shift on your feet, waiting for him to return his attention to you.

“Would you like something? Perhaps some coffee or tea or juice?” he asks, leading you into his living room.

“Um, no thanks Gai.” You look down to the floor, trying to form the sentences in your mind before you speak. You decide blunt and honest is the way to go.

He stands waiting patiently, looking at you with concerned eyes.

God I’m just the worst person in the world.

“Listen Gai, you start, “… Uhm… about Kakashi’s birthday—”

“Don’t you worry about that Y/n! The plans are full and well in motion! I’m sorry I could not get the singers, it seems that they are all booked for the day but everything else is right on track!” he flashes a toothy grin at you, holding his hand out in a thumbs up.

“That’s great, Gai… But um… Well, the thing is…” you try your hardest to come up with words that’ll soften the blow the most “I kind of wanted to do something special for Kakashi… by myself but now with your party, which is a great idea by the way, it’s just… I’m not sure, uh… I just want to do something for him too.” You fumble, looking up at him from under your lashes to register his reaction.

He stays quiet for a while, looking like he’s deep in thought before looking at you. “I completely understand Y/n.”

“You do!?” you ask, stepping forward towards him. “Oh, thank you so much—”

“It seems to me that you and I both want just the best for my dear rival! And you want to make sure he has the best birthday, just like I do! Which of course means that we should—”

Oh wait no. Oh no no no

“—Have a challenge!"

Just. What. I. Feared…

“Gai…” you begin, sighing. Your voice sounds so weak and tired, as if any moment now you’ll lose your ability to speak.

You take a few deep breaths, steadying yourself.

Okay. If this is how it’s gonna be, so be it.

It doesn’t matter what you have to do. You WILL make sure Kakashi has the best birthday and no-one can take that away from you.

If this was another time, you would have gotten Gai to somehow cancel the party. But under present circumstances, you just cannot do that. That would be selfish and horrible. So right now, you simply have to play along and do your best to make the day special for Kakashi, even amidst all of this.

But you sure heck will make sure that YOU’RE the one that makes him happiest.

“Fine.” You say, meeting Gai’s gaze, your voice masking the absolute mayhem in your mind. “Challenge accepted. We’ll both try our hardest to make this the best birthday for Kakashi, and see who succeeds.”

Gai flashes a blinding grin at your words. “Grrr-reat!” he exclaims. “I would expect no less from my rival’s lover!” he says, holding another ‘thumbs-up’ out as you smile weakly, raising your hand up to do the same.

………………………………………………..

You take a large bite of your sandwich, looking out at the vast green training grounds from the window beside your desk.

A sandwich is the only moderately nutritious but not disgusting in taste food that you can manage to eat in your 20-minute lunch break, so that’s what you usually stick to. Thankfully for you, you were able to be done with most of your work in the morning, giving you some time to think clearly right now.

You already know you’re not going to get Kakashi alone at night because of the party, which leaves… the morning. But of course, you both have to go to work in the morning which means the only time you’ll see each other is directly before the party since you’re the one supposed to be bringing him. And since he is the Hokage and doesn’t get back from his office until 9 pm, the party is set to start late. By the time you get home it’ll probably be 1 and sure, you can probably have some time with him then but…you will both be exhausted and more importantly, it won’t be his birthday anymore.

“UGHHHHH” you scream to yourself, tearing off a big chunk of your sandwich with your teeth and proceeding to chew noisily, putting all your frustration into the food churning in your mouth.

“Uhm… is this a good time?” you turn your head at the sudden voice, looking around to see Kurenai.

You hasten immediately to wipe the crumbs off your face as you gesture at her to sit and stuff the rest of the sandwich in your mouth, chugging it down quickly with some water.

“Yes, absolutely oh my god. It’s been a while since I saw you! How are you, how’s Mirai?” you ask, dabbing your mouth with your handkerchief.

“Ah you know, I mostly work from home these days. I was in the area today so I thought I’d drop by and pay everyone a visit”, the brown-haired woman replies, smiling.

“Good thinking” you say, returning her smile. “I’m glad you did, we have so much to catch up on.”

“God yes we do. Oh, and Mirai is great! They grow up so fast.” She says, her eyes filling with the kind of love you can only see reflected in a mother’s eyes. “But enough about me” she says, waving her hand. “I didn’t come down her to bore you with stories about diapers and potty training. Tell me what’s going on with you” she says, leaning forward on the table and resting her chin on her hand.

You let out a sigh, shaking your head before looking out of the window into the distance. “Ugh Kurenai, I don’t even know what to tell you.”

“I got the invite by the way! For Kakashi’s party. I was kind of surprised, didn’t take him for a party guy.” Kurenai says, her brows furrowing.

You look back at her with hollow eyes. “He isn’t. It’s a long story.”, you reply, your tone sounding just as miserable as you feel.

“Well, talk to me Y/n. Is something wrong? You look a little…bummed.”

You let out a chuckle. “Yeah, bummed is right.”

But it feels really good to talk to someone, someone sensible and actually capable of giving advice so you decide to tell her everything, narrating everything from how you’ve been up to your nose with work to how you got roped into having a challenge with Gai, to your dilemma about what to do for Kakashi. Kurenai stays quiet the entire time, listening attentively to every word, nodding and giving empathetic glances from time to time.

“So yeah…. That’s pretty much it.” you finish, sighing again.

Kurenai flashes you a kind smile before she speaks.

“Okay, so… if you aren’t getting any time with him throughout the whole day, how about you meet him for lunch during your break?” she suggests.

Lunch… yeah you hadn’t considered that. Sure, it was only around 20 minutes, but still better than nothing right?

You look at your friend, your eyes perking up as a smile spreads through your face. “Yeah, you know what…that’s a good idea!”

Kurenai returns a happy grin, glad to have been of use. “I know exactly what you should do. Pack a nice picnic basket, take a mat with you, find a good shady tree in the grounds and have a little picnic down by the lake. It’s sweet, romantic and perfect! There’s no way he wouldn’t love it. It beats a party and the weather is absolutely perfect too!”

Your eyes widen at her words. Of course! Why didn’t I think of that?

You almost jump across the table, pulling your friend into a bone crunching hug. “Oh my god Kurenai, thank you! You’re a real life saver! That sounds absolutely perfect!” you exclaim, before letting go of her.

She laughs a hearty laugh, before skidding her chair across the floor and proceeding to get up. “I’m glad to be of help Y/n, but I should get going now. Your break is almost over and I have some errands to run. It was great catching up though, I missed being around you” she says, smiling as she turns to make her way towards the door.

“Drop by more often!” you holler at her, before turning your head to look out the window at the beautiful clear sky outside.

A picnic, yep. That’s perfect. Everything is working out.

…………………………………………………

You open the drawer under your desk, shoving some loose sheets and files into it before jamming it close.

The clock reads 6 p.m. and you’re finally, finally done for the day. You worked an extra hour to make sure you have less pressure tomorrow and now with your load a little light and a tiny ray of hope about how you can make Kakashi’s birthday a good one shining through, you’re starting to feel slightly better.

Of course, there’s still loads to do. You still have to order the birthday cake, buy some things for the picnic, and pick up his gift which you’d pre ordered a month ago.

You ferret around on your desk to find the notepad you carry with you at all times. That’s where you make all your to-do lists, so that you never miss anything out.

You open the little notebook, flipping through the pages to locate the one where you’d started making a list of things to do for Kakashi’s birthday about a week ago.

You’re flipping when suddenly your eyes fall upon a different entry on the notebook, written in a handwriting that’s not yours.

You bring the notebook closer to get a better look and identify Kakashi’s handwriting at once. Written in black ink on the top of a page is

To do:

1)Kakashi

You let out a loud chuckle, your laughter ringing all the way out into the hallway.

This guy, you laugh to yourself, shaking your head. When did he even write that?

Turning a few more pages, you finally find the one you’re looking for. You glance at the sentence written in your messy handwriting.

Read Icha Icha Paradise, Page 162, para 5.

Ah yes, you’d almost forgotten about this. You’d written this down when the idea had occurred to you of re-enacting his favourite passage from that book to surprise him, one that he’d insinuated at, not so subtly, several times. You wanted to do it for a special occasion, and of course this would be just the perfect time. You make a mental note to give that paragraph a read once you return home.

So, re-enacting Icha Icha, a picnic, and his gift. That’s all you’ve got so far. Not bad but still not quite satisfactorily top notch yet. Still nothing that beats all of Gai’s efforts with a 100% guarantee. Something is still missing…

You stare out of the window, racking your brain for something, anything.

Outside, the Sun drapes the sky in its own colours. It looks so beautiful, you can barely take your eyes off for a while.

You watch the sky in awe, lost deep in thought when suddenly it occurs to you— Yes!

Yes, absolutely!

You. Are. Going. To. Write. Him. A. Poem!

What says you love him with all your heart better than a sweet, heartfelt poem written with your own very hands? It’s sweet and personal and just the kind of touch necessary to make you win. There’s no way anything can top that.

The sudden strike of inspiration sends you into a frenzy as you quickly pull a pen out from your pen stand, opening your notebook to a random page before starting to write.

Only… You have never written a poem before, don’t know how to, never tried one.

You uncap your pen, tapping on the page with the nip of your pen as you think hard, leaving blue dots all over the white sheet.

Ugh.

Kakashi your eyes, you jot down carefully, taking a minute to look out of the window before turning to your notebook again.

They’re as beautiful as the skies.

You lean back to admire the sentence you just wrote, a grin spreading across your lips. Great start.

You hunch over the notebook eagerly, scribbling the next few sentences in a haste.

Kakashi your face, it makes my heart race

Kakashi your hair, it’s so smooth it’s unfair

The grin on your face grows wider. God are you totally killing this or what? This is great, but still needs just a few more sentences.

You close your eyes, tapping the pen against your chin as you try to recall everything you love about him. The grin on your face turns to a curled smirk as you scribble the next sentences.

Kakashi your dick, it’s so big it’s sick.

Kakashi your lips, I love it when they touch my nips.

You feel a warm rush through your veins as you look at the words on the page.

Alright, now for the conclusion…

They call you copy ninja, you make my mind unhinged-ah

Baby you can bet, you make me so wet

You are my king, you make my heart sing

You lay your pen down, holding the sheet up to your eyes to read your final work.

And suddenly, the grin leaves your face. What the hell were you thinking? This is terrible.

You’re no poet, why did you ever think you could pull this off?

You tear the page off, shredding it into even smaller pieces before crumpling them together and shoving them into your pocket.

So much for poetry.

You check the time on the clock, it’s almost 7 p.m. and you have to be at the bakery by 8.

You clear your desk, moving some stuff around and throwing the rest of the junk into the trash can before gathering your things and setting off to leave. You pass by the Hokage Office on your way out and find the door closed, with two of Kakashi’s Anbu standing guard outside. They bow at you as you pass by and you understand that he must be in a meeting.

The cool evening air outside hits you like rain following a drought. After being shackled to your desk the entire day, the wind on your skin feels tranquilizing.

You walk along the street, snippets of people’s conversations flowing into your ears as you walk on, your mind boiling over with thoughts of its own.

You begin to realise how completely exhausted you are and that you can’t wait to simply go to bed. All your attempts so far have been completely useless and you most probably will be able to do nothing to make your boyfriend happy. The thought threatens to send you panicking, so you try your best to shove it away for now.

You take your last few strides towards the Bakery, which is decorated with twinkling lights on the outside. You pull on the glass door, stepping into the small store with cakes of all flavours and shapes displayed on the glass counter.

Your eyes dance across the displayed items as you reach into your pocket. You had already decided what you want and had written it down on a paper earlier today.

You scout around in your pocket, before pulling a piece of paper out and holding it out the young girl on the other side of the counter.

“Hi! I’d like to place an order for a birthday cake for tomorrow. The details are written on the paper.” You smile as she takes the paper from you.

She writes something down on a register and looks around to check both her sides before leaning closer to you, almost speaking in a whisper. “Thank you for your order ma’am, you can pick this up by 4 p.m. tomorrow. We have 3 sizes available for the cake, which one will it be?”

“The very biggest one, of course!” you sing. “The cake reflects the man, so it’s only fitting to have the largest one you have!”

She scribbles some more into the diary before looking up again. “And would you like me to add some special details?”, she asks.

“Yeah, why not? Make it your best!” you say as the girl scribbles on the notebook for a last time before handing you a receipt. You make the payment, shoving the receipt into your pocket before heading off for your next and last stop for the day, the market.

………………………………………

The Konoha Market sells everything from spices to shurikens. You stroll along the cobbled path lined with numerous small shops, each adorned with twinkling lights and a colourful assortment of all sorts of items. Your surroundings buzz with the vibrancy of people scuffling around, chattering and laughing.

You always found something so charming about the village market at night. Something about the way the little shops almost sparkle against the dark sky, or the way it always hums with such an energy, makes your heart feel happy for some reason. You take a deep breath in, various fragrances from nearby shops wafting into your nose at the same time.

You’re on your way towards one of the fruit stalls when suddenly your eye falls upon the unmistakable green figure in the distance. Gai.

He appears to be speaking very animatedly to the shop owner about something and you watch from a distance in amusement, before the man suddenly turns his head in your direction, catching sight of you.

He waves at you as you make your way towards him. You give him a nod instead of waving back, keeping up with your newly established rivalry.

Upon reaching nearer, you find yourself face to face with a variety of fluffy boa scarves of all colours, ranging from blue to red to yellow to green.

You look in confusion at Gai, who seems to have a dark green one draped around his neck.

“Um… will this have something to do with Kakashi’s birthday tomorrow…?” you ask, your glance shifting between him and the scarves, not knowing if you really want to know the answer.

“It sure does!” he replies, before turning to the shopkeeper. “I’ll take them all!” he says, as the old man proceeds to pack about 20 boa scarves into a bag.

A thousand different questions run through your mind, but if you were to put any more burden on your brain, it would iron out so you decide to simply pretend like you never saw any of this.

“Hope things are well at your end too, y/n!” he says, “I’d hate for you to lose to me, my rival’s lover!”

You take a gulp, avoiding looking at his eyes. Your head feels like it’s being crushed under a thousand heavy rocks as you feel the headache making its way back. You realise your arms can barely hold the weight of the bags you’re carrying, each filled with items necessary for tomorrow.

You look up at him, even the slightest movement of your neck suddenly so troublesome.

He looks back at you expectantly, the twinkling smile still adamant on his face. His teeth shine so bright, you can almost see your reflection in them.

You take a deep breath.

“Of course. Things are perfect, Gai.” you say, flashing him the very biggest and brightest smile that the twenty muscles in your face can possibly manage.

CHAPTER - 3 ( The Big Day)

The feel of two strong arms, one hooking under your legs and the other around your back, lifting you off the chair you’d fallen asleep on rouses you from your doze.

That must have been the fifth day that week that you fell asleep on your desk. You had been reading the para from Icha Icha which you want to re-enact for Kakashi’s birthday, and then all of a sudden you found yourself immersed in the book, devouring every single line, eager to know more about the story and what happens to the characters. So, you’d kept going but before you realised, you’d fallen asleep with your head over the book on the desk itself, with a string of white drool trickling down the corner of your mouth.

You blink in the dark as the arms carry you, melting into their familiar touch, your eyelids so heavy with sleep that you barely manage to keep them open enough to see what’s going on. The arms lay you down on the bed gently, pulling a cover over your body as you shift around in slumber, making yourself comfortable.

You watch a figure go round to the other side of the bed, before slipping in next to you slowly, careful not to wake you up by making too much noise or movement.

“Kakashi…” you whisper, your voice hoarse and barely audible. “Happy Birthday…sorry I couldn’t…stay aw…” you trail off, falling into a deep drowse before you can finish your sentence.

Kakashi smiles to himself in the dark, his heart filling with such an ache at the sight of your sleepy, drooling face. He drapes an arm over your waist, pulling you close to his chest, his hand stroking your hair at the back of your head as he places a soft kiss on your forehead.

This, this feeling… this is all he would ever want. Just you safe against his chest, the two of you falling asleep together in each other’s arms every night.

“Thank you”, he whispers against your hair, the familiar smell of your shampoo so welcoming to him, soothing his soul after a long day, washing over his mind and carrying his worries away, even if it’s only for the night.

You snuggle closer to him in your sleep as he tightens his arms around you, the feel of your body next to his filling every cell in his body with such warmth, that he gives himself in to the pure bliss of the moment, his eyes closing as he dozes off as well.

Yes, it is indeed a ‘Happy’ Birthday.

………………………………………

You jerk open every single cabinet in your kitchen with maniacal speed, looking for the damn frying pan.

Where the fuckity fuck did this guy keep the pan?

Between the two of you, Kakashi is the one who mostly uses the kitchen so he’s the one who has everything arranged according to his convenience.

You’re running on borrowed time, Kakashi should be up any minute now and you have to finish making breakfast before he does so you can surprise him with a nice breakfast tray in bed. You don’t usually wake up before him, he’s the early riser in your relationship but you figured you could reverse the roles for one day and kick start his day with a delicious meal, which would probably give you some winning points. And, of course… something else too. Something that will DEFINITELY give you some winning points.

You find the pan lying right in front of your eyes on one of the shelves and you turn the stove on, placing the pan over it before cracking open two eggs and sprinkling some cheese on them, berating yourself the entire time for being so blind.

On another burner of the stove, four perfect pancakes sit glistening, glazed with some maple syrup you picked up from the market yesterday. You reach for two cups on the counter and fill them with freshly brewed coffee as you hunt for a tray next.

You take a small glass vase and put two red roses in it, which you also bought yesterday, before placing it on a corner of the tray. Finding a notebook lying around, you rip a page off and scribble a note on it, a stupid grin spreading across your face as you write.

Happy Birthday, Kashi. You’ll always be the Hokage of my heart.

Icha Icha Tactics Pg 150, line 2. <3

Icha Icha Paradise, Page 162, line 4. ; )

By the time you’re done, so are the eggs and you gather all the things on the tray, setting the note right beside the vase. You smile to yourself, looking at your creation. Not bad.

Take that, Gai.

You peek through the door of your bedroom to see Kakashi beginning to stir, and make a quick dash towards the bathroom.

You stand in front of the mirror, checking yourself out in the blue satin two-piece you changed into in the morning, just so you can wake him up with a real jolt.

You pull on the hem of your spaghetti top, revealing more of your cleavage and pull up the waist of your shorts, before turning around to admire the way it accentuates your curves. You fluff your hair up with your hands and take your favourite lipstick from the shelf, before puckering your lips up and dabbing a bit of it on.

You step back, admiring yourself in the mirror.

Forget a snack, I look like a full meal, baby. Take THIS too, Gai.

Hearing some sounds come from the direction of the bedroom, you rush back to the kitchen. You light a candle and place it on the tray before picking it up and making your way to the bedroom.

“Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthdayyy- ayyyyy Kakashi-ii, Happy Birthday to you!” you sing, swaying your hips to the tune and doing a little dance as you enter through the doorway. You find him sitting upright on the bed, still under covers, his sleepy eyes widening in surprise as he catches sight of you.

He looks you up and down, taking your view in in thunderous astonishment as you place the tray on the bed and step forward to pull his face into a hug against your chest. “Happy Birthdayyyyyy baby” you mumble, smooching him all over and leaving red lipstick prints all over his face.

His hair looks dishevelled and his eyes are still sleep laden as you pull back and watch him look at the tray and then at you, and then back at the tray again.

“This… this is for me?” he asks shakily, looking up at you as you stand beside him.

“Well, duh! Who else would it be for?” you reply in a cheery tone.

He picks up the note from the tray and chuckles as he reads, his shoulders heaving with every snort of laughter.

“Y/n, I…” he fumbles, “This is… I’m…you didn’t have to...” he trails off, looking up at you with eyes that send a pang to your heart.

“Of course I did. You deserve it.” you say, smiling as you sit on the other side of the bed, facing him.

A wide grin spreads through his face, lighting the entire room up and instantly aging him down by about eight years, not that he looks a day beyond 30 right now.

“And…“, he says with a twinkle in his eyes as he gestures towards your outfit, “Is that for me too?”

“For you to rip off, yes” you say in a husky voice, smouldering at him before breaking into a giggle immediately. “Well okay now, dig in, come on! I woke up at 4 am for this!” you say, pushing the tray towards him.

He straightens up, the grin sparkling in his face as he looks at the food in front of him. “Y/n, this looks amazing!” he says, picking up a fork and a spoon before taking a bite of the pancake.

You watch in anticipation as he chews the food and lets out a “Mmmmm. This is really good!”, before digging in for more.

You watch him happily, forgetting everything about the challenge for a while and just admiring how happy Kakashi looks, your heart filling up with such joy and gratefulness to have him, and to be able to share such moments with him.

“Where’s your food?” he asks, looking up at you between bites.

“Ah I’ll eat in a while. This is for you” you say, flashing him a smile.

He stops, holding the cutlery in his hands before fixing you with a deadpanned stare. “Absolutely not. I know what that means. Come here, have a bite, there’s enough for the both of us” he says, holding out a spoonful of cheese scrambled eggs at you.

You roll your eyes at him, but comply, leaning closer and letting him feed you.

The eggs melt in your mouth, the cheese tickling your taste buds. You allow yourself a moment to feel happy with yourself.

You did a great job, no doubt.

The two of you eat in bed, laughing and talking until all the plates are scraped clean.

“That was the best meal I’ve ever had” Kakashi states, shaking his head as he takes his last bite, before putting the tray away to the side.

“Really?” you ask, smiling as you sit up your knees on the bed, watching him wipe his hands, before crumpling the tissue and throwing it into the bin.

You smirk as you crawl closer to him, slowly quenching the distance between you. He returns the smirk, a playful look dancing across his eyes as you put your legs astride his thighs, placing yourself on his lap.

You fix him with a stare, your eyes boring into his as you lean in closer, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“Well…you haven’t had your dessert yet” you whisper, your lips grazing his ear before you give it a light lick, one hand holding the back of his neck as the other trails slowly down his chest, drawing a straight line along his stomach till you reach the waistband of his pants and give it a small tug.

You hear a light ‘clap!’ as the elastic hits his skin and his breath hitches.

You slide down slightly on his leg, making sure to rub yourself against him as you do and pull on the waistband of his pants again, before reaching inside and stroking over his length with nimble fingers. Your mouth trails along his chest in red sloppy kisses… moving down his body…almost about to make contact with what you can feel growing harder and harder in your hand with every touch, when a sudden loud banging noise makes you and Kakashi both jerk up.

Not the kind of jerking you’d hoped to be doing.

The banging grows louder as you look at each other in confusion for a few seconds, before you get off Kakashi’s lap and he pulls his trousers back up, hurrying out of bed and rushing to the main door to see who’s banging so loudly this early in the morning.

You sit on the bed, pulling the fallen straps of your top up and wiping the smeared lipstick off the sides of your mouth as a feeling of dejection starts to grow heavy in your stomach.

The main door can be seen from where you’re sitting and you watch as Kakashi opens the door, a booming voice echoing through the house even before the door is fully ajar.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY MY DEAR RIVAL!”, Gai’s unmistakable voice hits your ears as you watch Kakashi being pulled into a hug before he even has time to react.

Gai shoves Kakashi away just as quickly as he had pulled him in, before thrusting a huge bouquet of flowers, ornated with daffodils, lilies, orchids and flowers of all sorts of other exotic kinds into his hand, making Kakashi stumble with the force.

Even from the distance you can make out the look of pure confusion and surprise in Kakashi’s face as he says “Gai...?”

You can hear both men’s voice as they exchange more words in your living room, but the voices start to fade and the words become incoherent to you as you feel your mind spiralling into a horrible, sinking feeling.

You look away from the door and plop onto the mattress on your back, starting up at the ceiling as you feel the load of your heart weighing you down.

A beeping sound goes off, and you turn your head to the side, catching sight of the alarm clock which indicates that it’s time to get ready for work.

You’d set it last night so that you and Kakashi didn’t get carried away while you made him feel like the happiest man alive.

Well… so much for that.

Beside the clock, the two red roses you got Kakashi sit still in the glass vase, their wilting bodies watching you, as if in mockery. After all, what’s two measly roses in front of a massive bouquet of exotic flowers?

………………………………………………………..

You look out of the window, up at the sky for the third time since morning.

The skies are still clear, thank goodness. The weather truly is absolutely perfect for a picnic.

You take the fully packed picnic basket out of the cupboard in your office, checking the items once again. Some sandwiches, fresh fruits, yogurt, a bottle of wine, two glasses and a mat.

The morning did not go exactly as you had hoped it would, true, but that’s okay. You still have the picnic and nothing will get in the way of that. You’re still hopeful and you refuse to give up. No, you absolutely will not give up. You had resolved to try your best to make this the best birthday for Kakashi, and you will do everything in your power to make that happen.

Sure, things haven’t entirely been going your way. But that’s fine, you still have the picnic.

You tell yourself this over and over again as you make your way towards the Hokage’s Office, this little internal monologue of yours standing as the only thing that keeps you from crumpling down completely.

The door to the office stands ajar and you notice Kakashi hunched over his desk, putting stamps on a bunch of papers as you enter.

He looks up at the sound of your footsteps, immediate surprising flashing across his features. “Y/n! I didn’t know you were coming” he says, his face lighting up at the sight of you. “What’s that?” he asks, glancing at the basket in your hand.

You smile and make your way towards him, sensing a warm rush flow to your cheeks.

Despite the years that you’ve been together for now, your heart still melts at the sight of him every single time. And there’s something about seeing him in the Hokage’s chair, looking so powerful and authoritative that really gets something going in you.

“What’s your schedule like right now?” you ask once you reach his table, even though you had already asked his Anbu guards to make sure he was clear during lunch time.

He looks at the papers on his desk before glancing up at you. “Pretty free, I’d say.”

“Great”, you grin, holding a hand out at him. “Come with me.”

“Come with you where?” he asks, looking cluelessly at you as he arranges some of the papers into an organised pile.

“Stop asking so many questions, Lord Sixth” you laugh, tugging his hand and pulling him up from the chair.

Outside the Hokage Tower, you link your arm with Kakashi’s as the two of you walk along the path leading to the river. The village looks idyllic, people going about their own business, friendly chatter and chirping of birds ringing in the background. A pleasant breeze hits you and you close your eyes, inhaling the sweet fragrance of flowers it brings along with it. Kakashi smiles down at you and despite the fatigue in his eyes that’s always been a constant ever since he took up the position of Hokage, you see that he looks quite content.

You choose the biggest tree near the river, the one with lots of branches, casting a comfortable shade over the soft green grass. The shadows of the leaves dance across on the ground, swaying and flickering.

You open the lid of the basket, taking the small rolled mat out and proceeding to unroll it.

Kakashi stands in the distance, gazing at the flowing river. This always was his favourite place to come to whenever he needed a break.

He turns towards you, smiling, before crouching down and helping you lay the mat. “You know you really didn’t have to go into all this trouble for me” he says, his eyes filling up with the same familiar look that he always gives you, every time you do something for him. There’s always a sadness in it that breaks your heart.

“Would you shut up already?” you say, unpacking the rest of the contents in the basket.

He laughs, raising his hands up in defence. “You’re spoiling me rotten. When did you buy all of this anyway?” he asks, watching as you take each item out and place it on the mat.

You shrug in reply, before handing him a sandwich which he takes eagerly, biting in immediately.

“Good?” you ask, “I got it from that shop you really like” you say, biting into one yourself.

“Really good”, he replies, finishing up the entire sandwich in about two bites and reaching for another. “I didn’t realise how hungry I was.”

You get the wine bottle next, taking two glasses out and pouring some into them. The liquid catches the sunlight, shimmering like jewel inside the crystal glass.

Beyond you, the river cascades gracefully down its winding path as you watch in awe, a peaceful silence enclosing its wings around you.

Kakashi smiles at you as you hand him a glass, clinking his glass against yours as his eyes linger on you and you feel your cheeks burning under his gaze.

Even after all this while, he has that effect on you. “What?” you mutter, gazing at him over the rim of your glass as you take a sip.

He shrugs, not taking his eyes off you. “Thank you” he smiles, and you know it’s not just for the wine. Or even the picnic.

You return his smile, leaning in for a kiss when suddenly a voice interrupts you.

“Kakashi Sensei!” you turn your heads around to watch two figures coming down towards you, one with bright blonde hair and the other with bubblegum pink.

The figures get closer and you wave at Naruto and Sakura, the latter holding a small bouquet in her hands.

“Happy Birthday, Kakashi sensei! I guess you really are an old man now, huh? Good thing your hair was white to begin with!” Naruto rambles with his hands behind his head as the young kunoichi glares at him.

“It’s rude to remind a man of his age on his birthday, Naruto”, she rebukes, turning to her sensei to hand him the flowers. “Here, Happy Birthday Kakashi sensei!” she smiles, her eyes crinkling as she does.

Kakashi looks as taken aback as ever. “Thank you, Naruto, and Sakura! This is a pleasant surprise! It’s been a while since I saw you two” he says, placing the bouquet carefully beside him.

“Don’t be standing there you two, come join us!” you say, waving them over and gesturing at them to sit.

“Oh no, we don’t want to interrupt” Sakura says as Naruto crouches down with a “speak for yourself” directed at her, before reaching into the basket for a sandwich and letting out a contented moan with his eyes closed at the very first bite.

You laugh, handing him another of the two remaining sandwiches which he takes happily, putting it in his pocket. “Thank you, y/n sensei, you’re the best!”

You are about to offer Sakura the last one, when suddenly a loud, screeching noise infiltrates the grounds.

Kakashi stands up immediately, walking a few steps over to see what is causing the noise as you dust the crumbs of your dress and stand up, following after him.

You watch his eyes turn the size of saucers as you step in closer, turning your head at the direction of his gaze when you see it.

WHAT. THE. HELL.

Right there on the middle of main street stands Gai, holding a huge megaphone in his hand. Behind him stands a quartet, each holding an instrument of their own.

“Is that Gai sensei?” Naruto chimes, coming in and standing behind you with the second sandwich stuffed in his mouth.

“What…what is he doing?” Sakura says, going ahead to get a closer look.

All four of you stare frozen as another screeching noise fills the area, making you block your ears with your hands.

“HELLO, MIC CHECK— GOOD MORNING ALL MY DEAR FELLOW FRIENDS!”, you hear Gai screaming into the megaphone, the sound resonating across the next few miles.

“I AM FILLED WITH JOY TO TELL YOU ALL THAT IT IS OUR BELOVED LORD SIXTH’S BIRTHDAY TODAY AND IT IS ONLY OUR DUTY AS HIS COMRADES IN ARMS TO MAKE THIS THE ABSOLUTE BEST BIRTHDAY HE HAS EVER HAD!” He takes a few strides towards your direction, the quartet of musicians following after him.

You watch as several people in the vicinity stop to stare at this sudden spectacle.

You look at Kakashi out of the corner of your eyes, standing with his body paralyzed as he gapes at the scene unfolding in front of him.

“GENTLEMEN, IF YOU WILL PLEASE”, Gai yells, turning around at the group of men behind him and giving them a nod.

They get their instruments in position and soon a tune breaks out so loud that it almost makes the ground vibrate.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU, HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU, HAPPY BIRTHDAY MY DEAR RIVAL, HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU” Gai begins singing off key as several people, shinobi and civilians alike join him. People poke their heads out of their windows in the distance, some coming down, all eager to wish the leader of their village on this auspicious day.

“Gai, what the hell are you—” Kakashi begins, but his voice fades beneath the roaring noise.

Soon a crowd begins to gather, as Gai keeps singing in tune to the quartet, nearing closer and closer to where you’re standing, the rapidly growing crowd following after him.

“This is so cool!” Naruto says, going forward to mix in with the crowd as Sakura follows behind with a “Naruto, wait—“, leaving you to stand alone.

The ground begins to echo with cheers and claps and wishes as everyone comes around Kakashi, surrounding him and you feel yourself being shoved and pushed as group of men gather in front of you, chanting “Lord Sixth!” and singing other praises in his name.

Kakashi stands in the middle of it all, his face reddened in embarrassment as he manages his very best to maintain composure, thanking everyone again and again with the occasional protests which are quickly cut off by the overzealous crowd.

You stand in the distance, watching the crowd devour his figure as you slowly lose sight of him completely.

You take a few steps backwards to get away from the stomping, screaming and shoving and come near to where you were sitting peacefully, just a few minutes ago.

You look down at the ground, Kakashi’s untouched glass of wine and the unopened boxes of yogurt lying near your feet, a few inches away.

You look up at the crowd in the distance again, their deafening bellows hurting you ears as you plop down on the ground in defeat, unable to keep holding any longer.

You reach for your glass, chugging the entirety of its contents down in one swig before grabbing the stem of Kakashi’s glass and doing the same.

Leaving the empty glasses lying on the grass, you reach for the bottle, opening the cap and tossing it somewhere into the distance. You feel your eyes well up, in spite of your every effort to hold the surge of waterworks back. Fat, hot tears start rolling down your cheeks as you chug the liquid down straight from its container, trickles glistening down the corners of your mouth, your throat beginning to burn with every swift successive gulp.

………………………………………

The Konoha bookstore lies in a quieter part of the village, away from the usual chitter chatter. It was made so with the idea that a bookstore should be situated in a place where there’s peace and quiet, a sanctuary for people to seek refuge in when they need to get away from all the commotion.

Unlike most of the newer and fancier shops in the village, the quaint little bookstore carries an old school charm, with its wooden floors, low ceilings and cosy reading lights. The latest spruce to the store, however was the addition of a DVD collection, making it a book and DVD store at present.

Throughout the years, this little bookstore has seen many unions between you and Kakashi, from romantic dates to squabbles over novels and authors. It has also always been very close to your heart, your safe place, the place that provides you comfort even on incurably bad days.

And right now, you’re on your way over to this very bookstore, walking as fast as your legs would carry you. Kakashi’s gift, which you’d pre ordered about a month ago should be here by now. Had you not gotten entangled in a million other things, you would have picked it up earlier.

You can read the little sign, written on a wooden board in the distance as you inch nearer, almost tripping on a rock as you push your poor legs to their very limit. Your body feels made up of nuts and screws more than flesh and blood by this point, ignoring every signal from your brain to work on its own.

Images of the afternoon threaten to break into your mind as you shut them away with all your might, not wanting to recall that horrible meltdown smack in the middle of the grounds.

Thankfully the crowds were too busy with Kakashi in the middle and Gai right by his side, leading the entire village into singing like they were all in some sort of a choir, to notice the Hokage’s girlfriend having the silliest meltdown of her life in the corner.

Moreover, you had made sure to slip away before the mob had thinned out, your last recollection being the tiniest glimpse you caught of Kakashi as you went by, looking as if he wanted the Earth to swallow him whole, as Gai beamed by his side with an arm around his shoulder.

You shake your head, trying to rid your mind of these flashes. You can’t break down again, no. You’re too far into this to give up now. No matter what happens, you have to stick to your resolve. Your hope may be dwindling, but it’s still not out yet.

You reach for the little glass door of the bookstore, pushing as you enter. The musty familiar smell of old books hits you immediately, almost making you feel as if everything is going to be okay.

You glance at the numerous books stacked in wooden shelves, categorised by genre. Some look new, and some display the ravages of time on them.

The shop owner, Mrs. Kimura catches sight of you, beaming as you draw nearer.

Because of how frequently you visit this store, you and old Mrs. Kimura have developed quite a bond. She also happens to be a war veteran, and you’ve spent many evenings listening to tales of her time from back in the days, tales that never fail to astonish you.

“Y/n! Hello! It’s been a while since I saw you!” she greets as you smile at her, even the smallest act of smiling so exhausting to you.

“Hello, Mrs. Kimura. Forgive me for not dropping by more often, I have been a bit busy lately” you say, flashing her an apologetic look.

“Ah, that’s okay dear. Well, what are you here for today?” she asks, the wrinkles by her eyes crinkling further as she smiles.

You fish around for a receipt in your pocket and take it out, handing it to her. “I had pre-ordered a special edition book containing unreleased manuscripts of the Icha Icha series about a month ago?” you say as she brings the paper closer to her eyes to get a better look. “It must be here by now, I’m here to collect it.” you say, unconsciously bouncing your legs as you wait.

She keeps the paper away, before looking up at you with a sympathetic look in her eyes, her face looking as if she’s about to break the news of someone’s death to you.

No. Please No.

She notices the immediate flash of horror across your eyes, reaching out her wrinkled hand to touch yours over the counter before speaking softly, as if speaking to a child. “I’m so sorry dear… I know you must have wanted it for Kakashi…Unfortunately, we had some trouble with shipping and it’s still not here yet.”

Your heart pounds in your chest as you hear her words.

No.

Is this for real?

Your hands start shaking beneath hers as you look at her, the tear ducts behind your eyes threatening you once again.

God is this really happening?

You pull your hand away, turning around to face away from her and taking deep breaths to try and calm yourself down.

This is a disaster. This is a total disaster.

This was your very last hope and now that’s gone too. If you were anywhere other than here right now, you’re sure you would’ve smashed something.

You put your face in your hands, not wanting Mrs. Kimura to see you in this state.

The old lady steps out from behind the counter, coming around to stand by your side and rubbing your back in consolation. “I’ll tell you what dear, let me give you a little something to make up for this mishap.” She says, her voice soothing.

But nothing can make this better. You had managed to maintain your cool every other time because you knew that if nothing else worked out, you at least had this. It was the one thing that kept you from crumbling and now…

You feel a horrible feeling growing into a lump in your belly as you straighten up, fighting back the dam behind your eyes with every cell in your body. You take three deep breaths, before turning to face the old lady.

“It’s fine, Mrs. Kimura. I have somewhere else to be.” you say, trying your hardest to form your face into a smile as she watches you, her white brows furrowing.

You hear her mumble something behind you but you’re already out of the door, onto the street again.

Once outside, you stand out in the lonely lane for a minute, letting out a deep sigh and looking up at the sky, the bright blue suddenly looking so grave.

You walk in the other direction from the one you’re supposed to be going in next, down the lane into an alleyway, rounding into a secluded corner where one of the village junkyards is situated.

A rotten smell of trash fills your nostrils as you see multiple trash cans littered around the area in the dingy dark corner.

You walk in amidst it all, the scattered trash resonating perfectly with how you feel inside. You let your back rest against the mouldy wall, closing your eyes to let the anger wash over you.

You feel it come surging through your veins like a charging bull as you feel your hands forming into fists and your body working against your instincts to raise your foot and hurl a kick towards one of the huge trash cans with a loud, ringing thud.

You’re taken aback by your own outburst as you watch the big metal can wobble on impact and before you realise, you find yourself coming forward, throwing kicks left and right on the can, on the walls, sometimes missing your aim but pressing on again and again and again, persevering through the shooting pain in your toes.

You are right in the middle of your maniacal fit, possibly your ninth kick, when you suddenly feel your balance stumbling, having stepped on something gross and slippery. You tumble as you feel yourself falling backwards, before crashing straight into all kinds of sticky, smelly debris and landing flat on your behind with a ‘thump!’.

You sit heaving in the middle of it all, several used wrappers of heaven knows what things sticking to you as you lift your hand off what looks like… a used condom. In addition to your toes, there’s also an ache creeping its way onto your back.

Great. Just great.

But you’re hardly surprised by this point. You almost break into a cackle at the thought of your own pathetic, pitiful state before getting back up, doing the best you can to brush your clothes off all the junk sticking to you.

Out of all the things that went wrong in the recent days, falling into a dumpster certainly hits a new low.

You dust your hands as you make your way out of the dark alleyway, a slight limp in your strides as you step into the light again.

Things are so far beyond worse by now, you feel as if nothing can possibly go downhill any further from here. You’ve hit the lowest of the low. Moreover, you are all out of ideas anyway and there’s nothing left that could go wrong.

The thought is almost strangely comforting. Because if you’ve hit rock bottom, the only way from here is up, right?

Checking the time on your watch, you make your way towards the main streets. It’s fifteen minutes to four and you have to pick up Kakashi’s cake.

……………………………………………………………

The Konoha Bakery looks emptier than it usually does, from what you can see through the glass doors as you enter.

That’s good because you’re running slightly late, thanks to your second meltdown of the day, and you have a lot of cleaning up to do before the party. With every other option out of the window, you suppose the only thing left for you to do now is just simply look stunning for your man and have him feeling lucky to have you.

Anko’s suggestion doesn’t seem so bad anymore, she was probably right the entire time. Perhaps you really will just put on a bra with a bow after all.

The young girl from before is the one at the counter again, and she greets you as you walk in, while the other few customers scrunch up their noses at your entrance. You must be stinking really bad. You flash an awkward smile at them as you wait for the girl to assist you, feeling very self-conscious all of a sudden.

She disappears into the storage room at the back of the shop without a word and you feel panic rising within you as you half expect to be served another piece of bad news, instead of the cake you had ordered.

Thankfully for your nerves, and for you since the stink eyes from the customers were getting a little too uncomfortable to bear, she comes back soon enough, holding a huge white box with a big red bow on top in her hands.

“Here’s your order ma’am! Just the way you wanted!” she says with a grin, placing the box on the counter.

Without wasting further time, you flash her a quick smile and hold the box with both hands, lifting it off the counter.

It’s heavier than you’d expected and you almost stumble, catching your balance at just the last moment.

There’s no way, no way you’re letting anything go wrong with this, hell no.

You tuck your purse under your arm as you try to hold the box, making sure to balance it in your hands. The box is so big, it almost obstructs your view and you struggle to see as you proceed to walk out of the store.

You push the door open with your foot and step outside, barely managing to see anything in front of you as you peek through one side of the huge box to see where you’re going.

Out on the street, you keep struggling your way ahead, relying majorly on your other senses to walk, tripping and stumbling a few times.

No matter what though, you are not about to let this box fall from your hands.

You’re almost near your home when suddenly a very familiar voice stops you, one that you’ve unfortunately had to hear more times than you’d have liked to in the past few days.

You peek across the stooping box to look at Gai, standing in front of you with his eyes bright as ever and the evergreen toothy grin pasted across his face.

He also seems to be carrying some bags in his hands, but you don’t bother asking what they are.

Unicorn feathers for his dear rival perhaps. Or berries of immortality handpicked by tiny fairies from the forbidden forests of the Land of Rainbows. Whatever.

“What is it, Gai?” you ask, “I am not exactly in the best state to stand and chat right now” you say, making no efforts to mask your annoyance while struggling to hold the box up as the purse almost slips from your tuck.

“I am so very sorry, Y/n! Please allow me to carry this for you—” he begins, stepping forward as you take a step back, cutting him off.

“That won’t be necessary, Gai.”

You watch a look of confusion flash across his face and then he says, “Well then, I’ll see you at my party, Y/n! Everything is almost—”

“Yes, I am sure that everything is just wonderful.”, you can’t help but snap. You know that he is only trying to make his best friend happy but with each failure, you can’t help feeling more and more bitter towards the man in front of you.

You feel your patience running out as he says “Well, the cake looks wonderful too, Y/n! I can’t wait to—”

“Yeah, yeah” you snap again, cutting him off, not able to bear it any longer. “I have to go, see you later.” You say, sidestepping past him and walking ahead, trying your best to look dignified and not trip on the way.

You hear him call after you “Y/n, Wait! You have something stuck to your—”

But you pick up your pace, ignoring his calls and walking on with your eyes ahead, hearing his voice get fainter and fainter.

Once out of his view, you stop, looking behind to check the back of your dress and sure enough, find your old friend, the used condom sticking to the thin material of your dress.

You hang your head forward, and exhale heavily into the air.

So much for dignified.

Once at home, you place the cake on top of your kitchen counter and run immediately to the bathroom, stripping as you go. The stench emitting from you is truly unbearable and the thought of having a myriad of disgusting, unknown things sticking to your body almost makes you gag.

You turn the tap on and wait for the bathtub to fill up as you take a quick glance into the mirror. You look absolutely terrible. You have dark bags under your eyes from several sleepless nights, your hair is all out of order and you just look completely exhausted. Which, well, you are. But that’ll have to change before the party.

You get your favourite, most expensive body wash down from the shelves, the one that you only use on special occasions or when you need to take a nice long bath to unwind. You uncap the bottle and breathe into its mystic fragrance, smiling to yourself.

Perfect. Kakashi loves this smell.

Next you splash some water on your face, dabbing it dry with a towel before putting on a homemade face mask that always softens your skin and leaves a nice glow.

With the face mask on, you step into the bath, leaning your head back against the edge of the tub with your eyes closed. The warm water engulfs your body, washing away the horrible day, and the stench.

You take a deep breath, inhaling in the fragrance of one of the aromatic candles you lit, and let yourself get into the moment. This is the first time in a week that you have felt truly relaxed and you take time enjoying it. You really, really needed this.

There’s still a few hours to go before the party and you take your sweet time in the shower, washing and scrubbing every part of your body.

You wash your hair, file your nails, put on some nail polish, and lather your entire body with sweet smelling moisturiser.

By the time you get out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel, however, you realise that you’re running thirty minutes behind. You got so into the moment that you completely lost track of time.

The clock reads 8:45 and the party is set to start at around 9:15.

You dash to the bedroom, going straight for your wardrobe and racking through all the hangers to find the dress you had in mind for tonight. Sure enough, you cannot find it, so you start yanking each hanger out, throwing them onto the bed one after another. After about seven minutes you find the one you’re looking for, hidden behind clumps of a few other clothes.

You really need to organise your wardrobe, but that’s a thought for later.

You pull out a set of lacy black lingerie from another shelf, a pair that you haven’t worn yet since you were saving it for a special occasion.

You untuck your towel, letting it fall to the ground before slipping into the pair of black underwear. Next you wiggle into your dress, before walking to your dresser to catch a glimpse of yourself.

You smile, looking at your reflection. You have on a red, halter neck floor length dress with a thigh high slit on one leg. It was an impulse buy that you had made on one of your vacations and you recall having worn it only once your twice before.

You turn around in front of the mirror, checking yourself from all angles.

Definitely not bad.

With the clock ticking, you don’t spend further time on admiring yourself and move on to doing your hair and make-up. You brush your hair into a loose low bun, with loose locks of hair hanging by two sides of your face.

You aren’t one for much make-up, so you go for your usual minimal look, with a bit of eyeshadow, some mascara and lip gloss. To add one last touch of dazzle, you put on a pair of silver dangling earrings and then step back, looking at the final result on the mirror.

Your reflection is better than satisfactory, and a grin breaks out on your face.

Kakashi certainly is going to need a moment to catch his breath when he sees this.

Now that you’re ready, you make your way towards the main door, making a mental list of all the things you need to check for before leaving the house.

Keys, wallet, watch, cake.

You repeat the order in your head as you go around the house, locking every cupboard that contains anything valuable and turning the lights of each room off.

You take the keys off the keyholder from the wall before going up to the kitchen counter where the cake is. How you’ll carry this cake and walk wearing a floor length dress and heels is a good question, but you suppose after all that you’ve been through today, this will quite literally be cakewalk.

The smell of the rich chocolate flavour permeating through the box is overwhelming and you resist the urge to sneak a peek.

There’s no harm in sneaking a little peek. Or maybe even in getting a little taste of the icing?

You giggle to yourself like a child as you tug the bow off and keep it carefully to the side before peeling off the single piece of cello tape that’s closing the box shut.

You slowly begin lifting the cardboard lid up, juvenile anticipation rising in your chest as you grow eager to catch a glimpse of the magnificent cake, until the lid is all the way up and—

Sitting there, in front of your eyes, is a humongous, chocolate covered penis cake, complete with a pair of balls and several veins and even tiny hairs drawn delicately with icing. On top of the cake written in cursive, also with icing is “Kakashi your dick”.

You stare at the sight in front of you for a few seconds, having lost the ability to function.

You keep staring, as an inaudible scream leaves your mouth and you feel your legs wobble, your head suddenly spinning as they give way and you feel yourself losing balance, unable to keep yourself standing. Your foot catches the hem of your dress and you hear a clear ‘screeeesh’ as the flimsy material comes ripping on impact, before you fall on the ground.

You sit staring blankly at the ground in shock, your head suddenly completely empty of thoughts, before you find yourself letting out a loud, long coming, screeching scream that almost tears your vocal cords, into the empty house.

Your voice echoes through the walls as you find yourself unable to keep holding the tears back anymore, letting them come as you feel them roll down your cheeks in streams of water, completely messing up your freshly put on make-up.

You sit with your back resting against the kitchen counter, slowly slipping onto the floor before you’re fully horizontal on the cold tiled ground, crumpled up in a screaming, sobbing ball.

You make no efforts to hold back any longer as you catch hold of the ripped part at the hem of your dress and tear it off with a hard yank, using it to wipe the watery snot running down your nose.

Your shoulders heave as you stay on the floor sobbing, a whimper escaping your trembling mouth from time to time.

You lie on the floor crying for you don’t know how long, the clock ticking by behind you as you make no attempts to move.

I give up.

Gai wins.

You tried, you’d gone out of your way, you’d bent over backwards to do everything you could to make Kakashi happy. But despite your best efforts, you couldn’t. You failed. You failed at making him happy. You are a horrible girlfriend and a horrible person. You snapped at Gai and were rude to Mrs. Kimura, who had been trying to help you.

The sobs come harder and you give yourself in to them, your face looking like a wet mess with make-up smeared all over. And your dress… your beautiful red dress…

But that’s not the most important thing on your mind right now.

You recall every single moment from the past two days, letting all the feelings you had pushed to the back of your mind, every single instance where you tried to be strong when you really wanted to scream, flow over and consume you.

Your mind wanders to when you’d placed the order for the cake and you realise… you have no one but yourself to blame for this particular mishap. When you’d shoved the ripped pieces of the poem into your pocket, it must have mixed up with the scrape of paper that had the details of the cake written on it. And like an utter moron, you had handed the paper to the girl without even looking at it. No wonder she had looked at you funny.

And God, Kakashi’s name was on it. He’s the Hokage for God’s sake.

In addition to self-pity and dejection, you feel embarrassment creep in as you recall the conversation you had had with the girl.

The cake reflects the man so the largest one you have of course.

Not only did you embarrass yourself, you also, without even trying, managed to drag Kakashi’s dignity into the grounds by involuntarily disclosing details about his measurements down there to the girl in the bakery.

God what did she even think!?

Another surge of tears overwhelm you as you hide your face into your hands, realising just what you have done.

The veins, I suppose that’s what she meant by “special details”

You bury your face in the cold ground, hoping never to get up again. There’s no way you can ever show your face at the Bakery ever again. Which really sucks because they have the best blueberry muffins in all of the Land of Fire.

You remain lying on the ground for what feels like a lifetime and the tears eventually stop but you feel like trash and your muscles feel weak from all these days of running around and biting off more than you can chew, so you remain on the floor, crumpled into a ball like a snail.

It must be somewhere around 10:30 p.m. when you feel the main door clicking, but you remain in your position, too exhausted to care about anything anymore.

“Y/n!” Kakashi’s voice rings as he enters, almost screaming. “What happened, are you okay?” you hear him as he comes running across the room as soon as he’s inside, crouching by your side to take your face in his hands.

In all the years that you’ve known him, you can count the number of times he’s sounded this alarmed on your fingers.

You study his panicked eyes as you look into them, a sloppy smile spreading through your face. “Kakashi… what’s up, man?”

His brows knit deeper as he takes your state in, your tear streaked, make-up smeared face and your ripped dress. He leans down further and sniffs. “Are you drunk?”

“No, but I should be” you reply, still in the same position as he watches you in utter confusion.

“Y/n, what’s wrong?” he asks, his tone worrisome. You realise he’s breathing fast, like he ran on his way here.

You lift your head off the ground, sitting up and facing him. “The question is, what isn’t wrong?” you say, putting a hand on his shoulder. “And the answer is, nothing. Because everything is completely and utterly wrong.”, you smile again.

You watch his eyes grazing across your face, reading you but saying nothing. He remains quiet, only looking at you, waiting for you to regain sanity.

A few minutes of silence pass before you speak. You let out a sigh before forming the words.

“I’m sorry” you say, taking your face into your hands. “It’s just… I really wanted to make you happy on your birthday, and I failed. Miserably…”

“What are you talking about?” he asks, moving your hands away your face, shock evident in his voice.

You avoid looking at him, shaking your head. “Nothing. I’m just stupid.”

He comes closer, pulling you into his arms as you rest your head on his chest, matching your breaths to the beat of his heart.

Being in his arms feels like being blanketed in a cocoon and you feel a strange feeling of comfort flood over you. You stay that way in silence for a while before you conjure the ability to talk again.

“So…Did you um… go to the party?” you ask against his chest, still in his hold.

“Yes, but you weren’t there, so I came to look for you.” He replies, his chin resting on the top of your head as he speaks.

You feel a strange guilt forming as you wonder how thrown off Gai must have been when you hadn’t shown up.

“And were you surprised?” you ask, making a mental note of apologising to Gai. Temporary rivalry aside, he’s a good friend.

“Well, I knew about this” he says matter-of-factly and you pull back, looking at him. “But there definitely were surprises.”

“You knew about the party?” you ask, your brows furrowing.

“Well, yeah. Gai tried to hire singers and any gathering of such magnitude requires the Hokage’s sanction and I didn’t want him to go through so much trouble so I denied permission and asked the singers to tell him they were booked, but… he found some way around it, I really don’t know how.”

You can’t help letting out a chuckle at this. “Sounds like Gai. He really went all out, huh?”

You watch Kakashi almost shudder. “You should’ve seen what did for the party” he says, shaking his head.

“Were there boa scarves involved….?”

“You don’t want to know.” He says chuckling, and you smile, taking his hand in yours, glad to have him alone at last, even under these circumstances.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there. I was the one who was supposed to go get you and I got ready” you gesture at your face and your dress,” But then this happened” you say, reaching for the open box lying on the counter with your hand. “Are you ready?”

He looks at you in confusion as you get a hold of the box, carefully bringing it over and placing it in the space between you.

You watch his eyes widen at the sight before he starts laughing and you join in, staring at the humongous edible rendition of a penis in front of you.

“Well, that is one well-endowed cake” he says, tilting his head to get a better look at it.

You sigh. “Ugh. This whole thing turned out to be such a disaster. This is not how it was supposed to be…” you say, looking down at the ground, your face forming into a frown again. ”I just wanted this day to be special and to make you happy”.

His eyes soften as he looks at you. “I AM happy”.

Inside your chest, your heart starts doing somersaults.

“You bring me a lot of hap-penis, Y/n.” he says, looking right into your eyes with a straight face.

“Kakashi, did you just—"you scoff, “This is not funny! Do you know the amount of craziness I’ve had to—” but you trail off, breaking into a fit of laughter yourself. “You’re such an idiot” you say and he smiles, coming closer to you and pulling you into a hug again.

You close your eyes as he whispers into your hair, “You smell nice”.

“Can’t say the same about you,” you reply without missing a beat but do nothing to let go of him.

He laughs into your hair and you feel the muscles of his chest move as he does. “Yeah, I should go take a shower. I ran on the way here.”

“Shouldn’t you get back to the party?” you ask.

“I’m not going back there.”

“But it is your party. As much as I’d like you to stay, you should go, Kakashi.” You say, pulling back from the hug to look at him.

“I did go.” He protests. “Believe me, they won’t miss me if I don’t go back. Gai is 3 sakes down, he can barely tell his right arm from his left, it’s havoc out there.”

You widen your eyes at his words. “3 sakes down? That’s not going to be good” you say, shuddering as you recall this particular memory from a few years ago where you had had the misfortune of witnessing Gai drunk in a bar. The place had taken 2 months to renovate and your entire group was banned from ever setting foot there again.

Kakashi laughs, recalling the same memory. “So, don’t worry. I am going to go take a quick shower and then I’m all yours for the night.” He says, with a twinkle in his eyes.

You smile at him and for the first time this evening, it doesn’t feel like a chore.

“Wait, let’s cut the cake before you go, it’s been sitting out for too long” you say, getting up with the box in your hands as Kakashi follows.

You come around to the counter, placing the box on top and looking for a knife as he comes behind you, standing with an arm around your waist as he laughs at the sight of the cake again.

“Well thanks to this, everyone in the village is probably going to know now that their Hokage is packing” you say, before proceeding to take the cake out of the box and placing it on a tray.

“Yeah, I had been thinking of ways to get out of this Hokage job for a long time and I think you gave me the perfect reason to resign.” He says as you hand him the knife, chortling.

He remains standing beside you with an arm on your back as he makes the first cut on the cake, and you watch thick white molten cream come spilling out onto the tray.

“Oh my god” you exclaim, laughing in fits as he cuts a slice and holds it out near your mouth.

You open your mouth and let him feed you and cut one of the 'balls' of the cake before holding it out to him. “Open wide” you say, before feeding him the slice as both of you try not choking on your laughter.

He looks at you with those eyes again, before dipping his index finger in a bit of the cream and smearing it on both your cheeks and your nose, before leaning forward and kissing the areas, licking them away.

“Thank you, Y/n” he says and you see the same look from earlier reflected in his eyes.

You lean forward and place a kiss on his mouth, the one you couldn’t earlier.

“Alright, I’ll go take a shower.” He says, kissing your cheek again before turning around to head towards the bathroom. Halfway through, he turns around to call out. “Oh and I found a package addressed to you at the doorstep? I kept it by the couch” he says, before turning back and disappearing down the hallway.

A package? What could that be?

Confusion looms over you as you walk up by the couch, inspecting the package in your hand. It looks big and heavy.

You crouch down, unpacking it slowly and find a note attached. You keep the note aside and open the package first and inside, you find a projector, complete with a roll up screen and a manual guide, and a DVD copy of Icha Icha Paradise.

You pick up the note, holding it in front of you.

Dear Y/N,

Please accept this small gift for me, as a token of apology and gratitude for all that you’ve done for me over the years.

But remember that the best gift a man can have is the company of the woman he loves.

My best wishes to Kakashi and my love to both you.

Akari Kimura

You hold the little note close against your chest and feel your eyes welling up, but not out of frustration or sadness this time. You smile to yourself and make a mental note to personally deliver a bouquet of flowers to Mrs. Kimura tomorrow.

But right now, something else plays in your head as you suddenly recall a line from that paragraph of Icha Icha Paradise.

His engorged fleshy sword slipped into her moist tenderness, thrumming deep and hard into her honeypot as the petals of her flower bloomed to welcome him into the humble abode between her legs. Their dewy bodies heaved, as if dancing to a melody written only for them and they became one, in a sacred union of love and lust, as they made love under the sparkling stars of the beautiful night sky.

Sparkling stars of the beautiful night sky.

Your face breaks into a massive grin and you stand swiftly up on your feet and dash towards the bedroom.

You pull out some sheets, a pair of comforters from the storage cupboard and run to your backyard, piling them all on the grass before making a quick dash back into the bedroom and coming back with some pillows and cushions.

You lay the sheets and the comforter carefully on the grass, before throwing the pillows on top.

You hurry back to the living room next, carrying the box containing all the things out into the backyard and set up everything one by one, with the help of the manual. You connect the projector to the DVD player you had in your house already and set up the screen on the two metal stands in front of the makeshift bed on the grass.

You make another quick dash inside your house, making sure Kakashi is still in the shower. You hear some movement behind the door and you yell “Don’t come out now!” before getting some twinkling string lights you have from the store room.

“What do you mean don’t come out? I’m done, I need to get dressed” you hear him yell back from the other side, followed by the sound of the bathroom lock clicking as you run to the door just in time, the string lights still in your hand, and lock the door from outside. “Don’t come out until I say so!”

You hear him utter a confused “What?” but you’re already off, out in the backyard again. You wrap the string lights around, in bushes and trees and clothing wires, before turning them on.

A dim yellow light fills your backyard, flooding the entire place with a warm cosy aura.

You look around to your creation, satisfied with the results and let out a big grin, thanking Mrs. Kimura in your heart.

She’s right. The best thing you can do for Kakashi is to simply be there for him, and spend time with him. You got so wrapped up in thinking about doing things to make him happy, that you forgot that it doesn’t matter what you do, as long as the two of you are together.

Kakashi loves you and you know you make him happy, regardless of whether or not you make any grand gesture on his birthday.

But that being said, it certainly doesn't hurt to do a little something for him, as long as you don't get too carried away with it to the point that it almost kills you.

The realisation soothes you and you feel a long-standing burden slowly crumble in your heart as you start to feel lighter, your spirits lifting up.

You hum to yourself as you make your last trip into the house, gathering some of the food you had picked out at the market that day but didn’t fit into the picnic basket. You pull out an old bottle of wine from the refrigerator, filling up two glasses and carrying it outside to the backyard.

Laying it all beside the sheets, you make your way back towards the bathroom and stand outside, facing the door.

“Kakashi?” you call in a soft voice.

“Yeah? Can I come out now? What are you even doing?” he calls back as you smile to yourself at the sound of his voice.

“How well do you know Icha Icha Paradise?”

“All the lines by heart, can we have this conversation when I’m not standing near a commode?” he calls out impatiently as you laugh again.

You reach behind and pull on the strings of your halter-neck tied at the back of your neck, feeling the top of the dress fall to your hips in one swift motion. You slide the rest down your hips, letting it pool near your feet as you step out of it, standing in front of the door in your lacy black lingerie.

“All the lines?” you ask again, your voice teasing.

“Yes”, he replies and you hear him about to start another sentence as you unlock the door, pushing it open. “We’ll test that.” You say, looking into his eyes as you watch him look at you like he just got an electric shock through his veins.

You gaze at him, standing there in a white towel with his hair wet, droplets of water still trickling down his torso as you feel something stir inside you and you smile, not taking your eyes off him.

He still stands there looking frozen as you step forward, and take his hand in yours, even the touch of his fingers against yours suddenly sending a shiver through you.

“I, uh… You look… I’m—” you hear him fumble nervously, visibly shocked as you cut him off.

“Just like the main heroine of Icha Icha, yes” You say in your calmest voice, tugging at his hand, a mischievous smile playing on your lips as he steps out of the bathroom, still looking at you as if he’s not sure you’re real. You pull him by his hand, slowly leading him down the hallway, all the way out into the backyard, knowing that nothing is going to come in your way this time.

You catch a glimpse of the clock as you lead him outside, and see that it’s almost midnight and soon it’s not going to be his birthday anymore but right now, you don’t care.

You don’t care if it’s not his birthday anymore, or if you don’t have rose petals, expensive champagne or a delicious meal cooked.

You don’t care that you couldn’t give him the perfect birthday gift, or that he’s already watched this movie multiple times before.

You don’t even care that all your previous attempts had failed, that even after breaking your back trying to do things for Kakashi, you couldn’t pull a single thing off.

All that you care about, is the fact that he’s here with you.

In the end, it all worked out just fine, better than you could have ever dreamt of.

But what matters most is the fact that you’re together, and you make each other happy, and nothing else in the world could ever be more special, or a greater gift than that.

Just her and him in their own little world, entangled in each other’s arms, laughing the night away and making sweet love under the stars. (Last Line, Icha Icha Paradise)

Notes:-

I tried my best to proof read but since it's really long, I may have missed some things. So if you find any spelling mistakes or any words missing or anything that seems out of place, please do not hesitate to let me know!

Also, I’m gonna reply to the comments about the earlier chaps on here lmfao

@ibukiirisha - You’re so cute what the hell, it was MY honor to tag YOU omg, I honestly was so fkn delighted when you’d even asked to be tagged in my fics,I was just ahdfdhkefhj 😩 Thank you so much ❤️

@ren-hatake - AHHHH i cant even tell you how happy you make me with all the love and support i mean 😩😩 it really fills my heart, you and your comments make My day 6000000x better and thank you so much for everything bb, I’m so glad you liked the earlier chaps thank you so so much ily ❤️

@issamomma - OH GOD THANK YOU SO SO MUCH FOR EVERYTHING YOU SAID, honestly. I can’t verbalise how happy it made me 😩 Your comments always make my day, thank you so much taking the time to write them, I appreciate it a hell lot. You’re so precious, thank you, ily ❤️

@psychofishie - shdhdk i don’t even know what to say, you’re literally encouraging me and supporting me all the damn time and thank you so so much, it really does keep me going. Your comments mean a hell lot to me, thank you SO MUCH for all the support, i completely adore you and i really hope you like the story ahhhhh ❤️

@ sushi-comet - I agree lmfao Gai is pure af and i love him but yeah he sure does go over the top sometimes lmfao. Thank you so much for reading!! 😩

#kakashi #kakashi hatake #hatake kakashi #kakashi fanfiction #kakashi x reader #Naruto #naruto fanfiction #naruto fanfic #kakashi fanfic #kakashi x y/n #kakashi x you #hokage kakashi #rokudaime #kakashi headcanons #naruto headcanons #kakashi scenario #naruto scenario #kakashi imagines #kakashi's Birthday

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royallyprincesslilly · 3 years

Text

Title: Kismet {9}

Henry Cavill x Famous OFC Aliya Taylor

Warning: Slow Burn, Mild Cursing, Dialogue Heavy, POV Changes

Words: 3.5k

Summary: Aliya is a singer turned model turned actress. Since she was fifteen, she’s been creating her empire in the entertainment world. As the daughter of a famous fashion model/designer and Hollywood director, you’d think life is easy for her, but her past has been anything but easy. Due to past trauma, she’s forever changed and no longer trusts any man that is not in her family and a select few in her team. She’s sworn off love and serious relationships and has planned never to fall again, but love isn’t something that can be planned. It just happens when it’s meant to. Can Aliya outrun a love that seems hellbent on holding tight to her, a love that is Kismet?

If you enjoyed this please LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG!! 😘

As always, thank you so much for reading. ❤️❤️

***Loosely Edited/Proofread***

***Interactive***

Previous Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 |

The change within you was instantaneous, and your body fought it like a foreign virus. You’d barely slept a wink the night before. You tossed. You rolled. You took up your phone and hovered over Henry’s contact only to put it back down and toss and turn some more. Half of you wanted to talk to him so badly, but the other half wanted you to practice some restraint. There was no happy middle ground, and because there wasn’t, you struggled to find any peace in your mind. By the time you managed to fall asleep, it was one hour before you had to get up to prep for your day. When you opened your eyes, the first thing you saw was a message from the culprit to your sleeplessness himself.

MSG Henry: Good morning, beautiful. I didn’t sleep a wink. I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I must have picked up my phone ten times to text or call you. It’s torture not being able to hear the one voice you want to hear more than anything.

As soon as you read the words, your heart literally melted, and butterflies filled your belly.

“Christ almighty,” you whispered as your fingers itched to rapid-fire. Before you could catch yourself, you’d already typed out a reply and sent it.

MSG: Good Morning to you too, handsome. I know what you mean. I didn’t sleep either. I almost called you so many times. I think you’re addicting.

You reread the message then groaned at the last sentence.

“Really, Aliya, addicting?” You rolled your eyes hard and pushed to get yourself ready for the day.

By the time you’d left the hotel, he still hadn’t replied, and you regretted responding altogether. So, here you were sitting in one of your four meetings for the day trying to keep your head in the game and your mind off of Henry’s lips, or his eyes, or the feel of his muscular arms around you. It was proving more complicated than it sounded. When you weren’t thinking of his lips, or his eyes, or his arms and kisses, you were overthinking your message and his lack of response.

A little more than halfway in your first meeting, your phone went off, and you had to make yourself slow down and not leap for it. Nonchalantly, you glanced at the screen and saw Henry’s name.

MSG Henry: Addicting, huh? I like that, but you should not be talking. I have been addicted to you since the day you bumped into me.

Any worries you’d had the last few hours melted away, and a smile spread across your face.

MSG: Do tell me more, Mr. Cavill.

Barely a minute passed before another message came in.

MSG Henry: I would rather tell you while looking in your eyes so you can see the depth of which I mean them in my eyes.

You bit your bottom lip and closed your eyes. He was different alright, you thought.

MSG Henry: I’m sorry it took me this long to reply. I’m trying to finish up all business between today and tomorrow. I had to hide my phone from myself, or else I would have been messaging you this entire time.

You couldn’t lie. That felt good to know that he was having as much of a struggle going about his typical day to day tasks as you were. The knowledge of that comforted you, but it also worried you. This thing was still so new. For the duration of your meeting, you texted on and off. It continued as you moved to your second and third meetings, and by then, your focus was shot. The only thing you cared about was what he was saying.

You loved how open he was. He always found a way to describe to you just what he was thinking or feeling while still remaining mysterious enough to have you wondering what he felt and thought. It was interesting. You’d always been able to predict every man that tried to enter your life. You could predict their motives, what tactics they’d use to try to weasel themselves in, and you often could predict how things would end. With Henry, you’d been having a difficult time with those predictions. It bothered you.

By the time you got back to your hotel room, it was nearing seven o’clock. You wasted no time putting your phone on silent to concentrate on a little self-care beginning with a soak in the jetted tub. You did your best to keep your mind open to allow the meditation track you played to really work at loosening the knots in your shoulders and tension in your neck. The stress of your life, mainly from work, was really beginning to show. It had always shown, you just never listened to your body whenever it told you to slow down or take it easy.

Many of your friends and family teased you that you lived to work instead of working to live. There were times you were inclined to agree with them because you didn’t need to work so much to maintain the lifestyle you were accustomed to. You had more money than you knew what to do with. You could afford to take time off to recharge but, you’d lived with the belief that the less time you had to be idle, the better it was for your mental and emotional health. Idle hands, after all, were the devil’s playground. You’d grown so accustomed to working nonstop that you didn’t know how to just do nothing.

After almost two hours in the bath, as you walked into the bedroom, you saw your phone light up. It was an incoming call from Henry. Sighing, you plopped onto the bed, trying to fight back the smile that wanted freedom. The smile won the battle.

“Hello?”

“Did I wake you? I called earlier but--.”

“No, I’m awake. I put my phone on silent and took a long bath,” you clarified.

“Ah, that sounds relaxing. Maybe I should try that. I’m feeling this burnout more and more.”

“Those who are serious about their craft work too much.”

Henry sighed softly, and you wondered if there was a hint of mint and Guinness on his lips.

“I don’t want to work tonight,” Henry declared. “Tonight, I want to be with you.”

You dropped back onto the bed and stared at the ceiling. “Oh, do you now?”

“Yes,” Henry confirmed, his voice dropping in baritone. Your belly fluttered, making you press your palm against it.

“Have you eaten?”

“I haven’t,” you breathlessly replied.

“Good. I’ll be around for you in forty-five minutes.”

You sprang upward. “That’s not enough time.”

“Oh no? High maintenance are you?”

You snorted and shook your head, hearing the tease and challenge in his voice.

“Forty-five minutes then, just don’t get mad when I don’t look like pictures in magazines,” you quipped.

“Come as you are.”

Your reflection caught your eye. Because you’d gotten your hair slightly wet in the tub, it was now in a half natural half blown out state, making you look crazy. You doubted forty-five would be enough to tame it.

“See you soon,” you said before hanging up to focus on getting yourself together.

Forty-nine minutes later, you were dressed and on your way down in the elevator. As it made its way down, you assessed your appearance, thankful you were able to straighten your hair again to add a few loose curls. Part of you hadn’t wanted to bother, but you knew the dress you were going to wear would be better complemented with a sleek look. Your eyes skimmed the half sheer and half bodycon black dress you wore, loving that it was the right mix between sexy and classic. You added another layer of your mauve tinted lip gloss and just in time for the doors to open.

It didn’t take long for you to spot him sitting in the lobby where one of the big-screen TVs were placed. He was watching a rugby match. You crossed the black and white designed tiled floors and approached behind him. When you dipped to his ear, his scent almost had a moan escaping you—almost.

“Either, no matter where you are, you gravitate to rugby, or I took too long,” you whispered.

Henry turned, and the moment his eyes landed on you, a dumbfounded look washed across his face. You tried not to bashfully look away as you watched his jaw drop when his eyes took in the full view.

“Wow.”

A giggle that would have been nauseating from someone else slipped from you, making you press your fingertips to your lips.

“You’re breathtaking.”

You smiled, then gently tapped his chest.

“Stop.”

“I’m being completely truthful.”

Those damn butterflies made their presence known once again.

“Thank you,” you whispered.

Henry held out a single peony to you. “For you.”

As you took it, your smile widened. “Wow, one of my favorite flowers.”

“Is that so?”

You nodded.

“Hmm, happy coincidence,” Henry replied as he stood and buttoned his suit jacket. Once done, he held out his arm for you. “Shall we?”

You nodded and looped yours with his, ready for whatever the night brought on.

-Henry-

As you sat across from him under the hanging flowers and dim lighting of the restaurant perusing the menu, he couldn’t keep his eyes off of you. It could have been the way the golden light bathed your skin, giving it an almost glowing aura. Or it could have been the soft smile pasted to your subtle painted lips. It could have even been the spell of the restaurant, the classical music playing, and the sweet scent of flowers that surrounded the two of you. Whatever it was, he itched to touch you, itched to get closer, and itched to do nothing but find a way to keep a smile on your face.

“What?”

Realizing you were now looking at him, he smiled back at you.

“Nothing.”

“No, no. That’s a something look,” you said, still not able to not smile.

“It’s nothing,” he repeated.

“Henry, seriously. What is it?”

You reached out and gently slapped his hand, then rested it on top of the table.

“Nothing, really. It’s just—I can’t seem to keep my eyes off of you,” he admitted.

Your smile slipped, revealing a serious expression for a few seconds before you smiled again and dipped your head in a bashful way. Unable to keep his hands to himself any longer, he closed the gap between your hands and took yours.

“Your parents must be proud to have raised such a charming son.”

He smiled, then shrugged. “She has five of them.”

“Bless her heart,” you added, making him chuckle.

A comfortable silence drifted between you as he enjoyed the softness of your hand in his and the way your warmth mingled with his. He could get used to this, he thought to himself. When the waiter returned to the table to pour the chosen wine into your glasses, you pulled your hand away, but he didn’t take offense.

“So, by this time next week, I will be off the grid,” he said after the waiter walked off again.

A quizzical look swept across your face.

“Off the grid? Are you a spy?”

He smiled. “I promise I’m not.”

Another waiter approached the table, this time carrying your selected third and final courses. He thanked the waiter as he laid the plates before you before he retreated.

“You were saying,” you prompted, lifting your dinner fork from the selection of three different ones to your right.

“I’ve earned some much needed R&R.”

With your fork paused at your lips, you smiled. “Oh, that’s great. Congratulations. When was the last time you took a holiday?”

He watched you chew and quickly got lost watching your mouth. It took him several seconds to regain his train of thought.

“Eh-em, uh—perhaps a year and a half, if we are talking about a true holiday.”

“Wow, that’s a long time.”

“What about you?”

You smirked, then scoffed. “Define holiday.”

He returned your smirk then rested his knife and fork atop the braised beef on his plate before he replied. “Time off, no work, nothing that you have to worry about that can cause stress, anxiety, or tension. Oh, and of course, sleeping late, drinking until three or four in the morning, fun every day, and feeling refreshed upon return.”

You smiled as you finished chewing. He watched you take another sip from your glass and knew the wine was only making your lips even sweeter than they already were.

“Ha! Jeez, when you define it like that, it’s been years upon years,” you replied.

“Not good at all.”

You nodded. “Tell me about it.” A soft smile was still on your lips as you placed another forkful of the pan-seared sea bass you were eating.

With those words, a thought formulated in his mind, and it was a thought he wondered if he put words to would you be receptive. The remainder of dinner passed comfortably. Another reason why he couldn’t stop thinking about you and enjoyed being around you was because your conversation was always excellent. There was never any form of discomfort or awkwardness between you. You easily talked about so many things, and the things you said were always thought-provoking and intelligent. While everyone thought you were just a pretty face, you’d repeatedly allowed him to see that the world knew nothing.

His hand was rarely without yours in it, and when he held your hand, you softly raked your fingernails against the palm and fingers. Every time you did it, the goosebumps that raced across his skin sparked a reaction that was visible much, much lower than his hand. Everyone else in the restaurant could have disappeared for all he knew because you’d captivated him and every single one of his senses.

By the time you left the restaurant, it was close to midnight, but you didn’t seem to care what time it was. You held onto his hand as you walked along The River Thames. He often did this late at night when he couldn’t sleep. It was really the only time he could come and not be bothered or recognized because he was more than likely the only one there. Tonight your laughter danced through the air, and the gentle ebb and flow of the water only helped the glistening light from the bridge and neighboring buildings shimmer that much more. It was quite romantic.

You stopped and pressed your back to the iron gating that kept pedestrians out of the river. You stretched your arms out, leaning back as if to really enjoy the gentle breeze.

“It’s a beautiful night,” you sighed out.

Just like that, he drifted closer to you until there were only a few inches between your bodies. When you came upright again, your smile was still bright, even realizing he was so close.

“Are you trying to push me in?”

He smiled and shook his head. “Never.”

“Oh no?”

“No,” he repeated, taking another step to you.

You bit your bottom lip then sucked it into your mouth, and he became even more painfully aware that he hadn’t sampled them since the night before.

“Unacceptable,” he whispered.

“What?”

Reaching out, he cupped your jaw and slid his thumb across your cheekbone while he slowly traced every inch of your face to his memory. When his eyes met yours, he fell another foot or two deep into the quicksand-like pit of his growing feelings for you. He was so close to going under it was alarming.

“It’s unacceptable that I haven’t tasted your lips in over twelve hours.”

He heard a soft gasp escape your lips, and it was the only sound you made before his lips pressed to yours. The only move you made was to entangle your fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck. The feel of your fingers against his skin brought those familiar goosebumps. He moaned, then pulled you flush against him. The feel of your body against his made his heart thump rapidly, and when you moaned against his lips, the need to consume you took precedence.

When he delved his tongue into your mouth, he was shocked when you swirled yours around his, and the sensual move had him pressing you firmly against the iron behind you. It was out of character for him to do this so wide in the open, but he felt himself doing things that no one would ever guess he would do when he was with you. Your soft nibbled on his bottom lip brought his mind back to the rising dilemma, rising being the operative word.

Pulling his lips from yours, he rested his forehead to yours. Both of you didn’t speak; instead, you were both lost in trying to catch your breath. Long moments passed, and in those moments, he fought to regain his composure. He’d never reacted to anyone the way he reacted to you.

“Come with me,” he whispered, his voice shakier than he’d expected.

Your eyes fluttered open, and he didn’t know if it was wishful thinking, but he swore he saw actual stars in them that put the night sky to shame.

“Where?”

“Away on holiday.”

You pulled back a few centimeters and gazed into his eyes more intently. He watched them dart from his left eye, then to the right and back again. Slowly the stars vanished, and humor replaced them.

“Good one,” you said before you laughed out loud, pulling your body from his.

“Oh my god, you really had me going for a second,” you said through laughter.

You took two steps as if to continue walking, but he laced his fingers with yours and pulled you back before him. You gasped, and the sound of it made him close the space between you again, pressing you onto the iron bars. With his body pressed to yours leaving no evidence of there being two bodies, you moaned, and the sound almost had him capturing your lips again. If he did though, he didn’t know if his hands would remain respectful.

“I wasn’t kidding.”

Your eyes were on his lips, and the desire for you to take control, almost overrode his desire to be in control—almost.

“What?”

“Come on holiday with me, just the two of us, a beach wine somewhere—anywhere.”

He saw the moment you realized he was as serious as a heart attack.

“You’re serious,” you reiterated.

“More serious than I’ve been about anything.”

You didn’t speak for the next minute, but you also didn’t move away. He decided he’d give you the time to consider it.

You scoffed before you spoke. “What? Henry—we can’t.”

“Why?”

You gaped at him as if he were insane.

“Why?” That was when you pulled away from him and took a few steps sideways while still leaning against the gate. “We—we don’t--.”

You looked as if you were wracking your brain for a response, but you also looked like you were trying to catch your breath.

“We don’t know anything about each other.”

He took a step to you. You didn’t move.

“Which is why a private holiday would aid in us getting to know each other—uninterrupted without the pretexts,” he replied.

Your eyes widened before you shook your head then turned to face the water. You peered out silently, baffled. “Henry—we can’t.”

He approached you, and as he leaned against the gate, you looked at him. “Tell me why,” he requested.

“Why—because—I—I don’t do—that,” you stuttered.

“What holidays?”

He saw the exasperation wash across your face before it went blank. You stepped away again, then cleared your throat.

“I have an early flight out tomorrow.”

It was hard not to feel the rejection, but he hid it the best he could. Nodding, he held out his arm for you to take.

“Then let’s get you back to your hotel.”

The entire ten-minute walk, his mind went from one thing to the next. He worried he’d come on too strong, or that he’d said the wrong thing, or somehow offended you. Then he went back and forth with his decision to even ask you. Part of him felt like maybe he was jumping a little too far ahead, but the other part of him felt there was nothing wrong with inviting you especially based on how things had gone the entire night and the vibes he picked up. That made him wonder if he’d read the evening entirely wrong.

When he stopped with you in your hotel's lobby, he was in no hurry to ask you again. He’d begun to feel quite stupid. His hurt feelings needed the night to recover. He took your arm from the crook of his elbow and held your hand. Again, you didn’t pull away. Deciding he couldn't afford to give you the time to, he lowered your hand and stepped away from you.

“Thank you for dinner.”

“T—thank you,” you said barely above a whisper.

He nodded and debated his next move. He took a timid step forward and kissed your cheek.

“Have a safe flight.”

“Thank you.”

This one was a whisper.

“Good night, Aliya,” he breathed out before he quickly kissed your forehead then walked away out the door and down the street without looking back.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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