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ushidoux · 3 years

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Be My Last - Iwaizumi x Reader (Pt. 5)

Summary: You have trouble getting over a past relationship and it’s preventing you from moving forward. (~1.6 words)

Warnings: angst, mention of kid and implied marriage.

A/N: We’re at the end here! I hope you’re okay with the way this ended, and if not... *shrug* LOLLLL, we can talk about it. Thanks for reading up to now!! <333 See you in my next fic!!

Part 1|| Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4 || Part 5

Iwaizumi returned late that evening to realize that you were nowhere to be found.

It shouldn’t have been this alarming for him to not see you hanging upside down off the edge of the couch watching tv, futzing around in the kitchen, maybe staring out off the small balcony or snuggled up under the covers.

But you were absent, and on top of everything, the sight of a dark home proved to be too much for him to handle. Moreover, the home hadn’t always really been his, had it? It was yours and Ushijima’s far before he’d even come into the picture.

He had just been filling a space, just as he’d promised you.

He checked his phone only to be further defeated by the lack of a text message to let him know you were going out. You always let him know.

Iwaizumi turned on his heels and went back to his car. The roads were clearer now and he needed to drive. He needed to go, somewhere. It didn’t matter where to.

Years pass.

“Hot cocoa, please!”

Your daughter collapsed in your arms as she made this request, having run in your direction from the opposite side of the sitting room. She grinned widely, her brownish-green eyes seeming to sparkle despite the low light of the room. She is truly the happiest child, you thought for a moment, smiling as you mussed her hair affectionately.

“Okay, baby, we can get some,” you agreed, pulling her close for a kiss on the forehead, because how could you say no to that pure joy on her face?

“Did you have fun with your new friends?” You asked, rising.

You’d been watching her for a while now, seated in an overstuffed armchair by a roaring fire, thankful to be insulated from the frigid winter weather (turned out the cold of Eastern Europe was an entirely different type of cold than you were used to). It was a pleasure to see her discharge energy, bouncing around the other little kids at the ski lodge resort you’d been residing at since this past weekend.

She nodded. “That’s why I’m gonna drink it really fast so we can play some more!”

You chuckled, and held her little hand tightly. At least someone was having fun.

You on the other hand had decided you hated skiing with a passion six hours into the vacation after spilling spectacularly more than enough times on one of the beginner slopes. Not wanting to ruin your husband’s fun, you’d convinced him to let you stay behind with your four-year-old so that she could socialize, you could have a break, and he could try one of the more exciting slopes.

Everyone won.

Well, sorta. He’d pouted as he set out on his own, and now you felt a little bad. Maybe you’d try again the next morning for him after you left your little one at a kids’ event.

“Is Daddy coming back soon?”

Your little princess’ legs swung excitedly as she sipped her hot cocoa with far too many marshmallows, just after you’d blown at it a little to make sure she didn’t burn herself.

“Daddy will join us soon,” you assured her, your own hands warm with a cup of tea.

---

“I’m sorry.”

Before you is a glass of water with too much lemon. You’re seated at a diner, the very diner where you’d first confessed your feelings for him, and he’s speaking to you but you barely hear him - all you hear is the rushing of blood in your temples.

Why now? What do you do with sorry after all this time?

Wakatoshi sees your expression and cracks a weary smile.

“I shouldn’t say that, should I? It’s too little, too late.”

He’s right but you don’t answer.

It’s weird to see him after all these years, seated just across from you as though you were on a date as usual. You can imagine a heaping stack of pancakes between you, covered in too much fruit and too much syrup and him chastising you before you force a berry into his mouth. You can imagine laughter. You can imagine gentle touches, kisses, hugs. You can imagine the words ‘I love you.’

Is that what he’s sorry for?

“To-... Wakatoshi, why did you message me?” You don’t mean to sound curt, but if you speak longer you feel as though your voice will give out.

He winces almost imperceptibly at the use of his full name. But he’s always been steadier than you, emotion-wise. At least you think so.

“I wish it had been different.”

“So do I,” you say, quickly before thinking. But you don’t really, do you?

There’s a man who loves you, possibly more than he loves himself, than he loves anything in the world. And if it weren’t for this, for Ushijima ‘releasing’ you, no matter how harshly, you wouldn’t have had the experience to be loved by him.

“I was wrong.”

He was. He was absolutely wrong. But what’s wrong and what’s right no longer matters. What matters is what is.

He pauses and sighs. You can see his hands now grip the end of the table as though to keep steady.

“Thank you for coming.”

There is another pause, one that is suddenly too great for you to handle, where you want to sigh but instead you draw in a double breath.

You’re embarrassed because you do not intend to cry. Not after all this. Not in front of him.

“You didn’t love me enough to compromise,” you end up sputtering out.

Your tears aren’t falling yet but your eyes swim and you blink them back furiously. “Why all this? Why now?”

He blinks once and you can see his fingers tighten around the edge of the booth, knuckles white.

“I was stupid then. I’m different now.”

The fact that his eyes are so sincere makes your heart wrench. You know that he doesn’t lie, he’s never felt a need to.

It’s a response that infuriates you but your anger is cool rather than hot and it’s diffuse, deafening and directionless. There’s no one to be mad at except the very fabric of time.

What do I do with this? What can I do?

Your heart settles, and you measure your next words carefully.

---

“Daddy!”

Your daughter’s eyes widened immediately as she saw him approach behind you, and in mere seconds, she jumped out of her chair to embrace her father, nearly knocking over her hot cocoa in the process. You managed to salvage it to your credit, and you turned in your chair to flash a teasing grin.

“How were the slopes?”

---

“There was once a time where I would have followed you anywhere if you asked me to. Maybe it was unhealthy, maybe it was naïve, but I truly loved you to that extent. I would have left everything behind if you asked.”

The solemn look he sports on his face, so stoic as a defense mechanism that it seems almost caricature-like, only confirms that he knew. He knew that every word you said was true, and yet...

“I thought it was the best decision at the time. I didn’t want to hurt you anymore.”

Maybe he was right. That sort of reckless love, especially when not reciprocated in earnest could only result in pain.

His intentions were good. They were good. That’s what matters.

He had a reason.

----

Hajime frowned at you, which in turn made his little princess, now perched on his hip frown as well.

“Your mother’s not being very nice, now is she?” He murmured, as he approached, now settling her back in the chair across from you. “She didn’t even want to ski with me!”

His arms crossed over his chest as he stood beside you now, a pretend-grumpy look on his face.

Your four year-old gasped. “What?! Mommy’s mean? Are you a bully?”

“Hey!” You nudged Iwa in the ribs. “Don’t make me out to be the bad guy! I’m coming with you tomorrow!”

To this, your husband’s eyes lit up, and he wrapped his arms around your shoulders, resting his chin on your head.

“You’d do that for me, my clumsy little penguin?” He whispered, just low enough that your little girl, who had now contented herself back to drinking her hot cocoa couldn’t hear.

Your eyebrows furrowed.

“If you keep making fun of me, you’ll be on your own again, and possibly so for the rest of this vacation,” you grumbled back, but he laughed in earnest to your threat, pressing a quick kiss on your cheek before dragging the nearest chair towards your table to complete your circle.

“So what do my favorite girls want for dinner?”

---

When Ushijima’s hands finally relax, and he places them clasped together on the table, you find yourself reaching for them. It’s no longer a natural, intrinsic movement of the arm and hand, the way it was years ago when you always yearned for physical contact. It’s now measured and intentional.

You squeeze his hands and they feel different. They’re larger, colder, rougher than Iwa’s are. It’s not a bad thing; just not the same. You can imagine that intertwining your fingers with his would feel imperfect, maybe even wrong.

You’ve changed. And he’s changed.

“Wakatoshi…”

You pause, and your hands linger.

It’s hard to look in his eyes when you say this, but you do anyway. Their eyes are almost the same color, but Iwa’s are greener. An old idiom comes to mind and you banish it from your mind.

“You will always be my first love, but Hajime will be my last one.”

#iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi hajime x reader #iwa x reader #ushijima x reader #ushijima wakatoshi x reader #tw angst #tw breakup #series: be my last #mae.writing

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sneezefiction · 4 years

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embrace

Tsukishima x Reader - Scenario

@belli-jelly’s event request: “#7 with Tsukki ❤️ thank youu!”

a/n: “embrace” with Tsukishima is such a soft idea. he just needs a hug and to feel loved n supported n stuff, ya know? i hope u enjoy!! <333

warnings: slight language, angst (but barely?)

wc: 1990

---

Tsukishima makes his ways through the apartment door, kicking off his shoes a little more forcefully than usual. The thunk of the soles on the tile embodies whatever vexation he’d been simmering in for the duration of the day. A weak, frustration-fueled sigh exits his body.

From the kitchen, you can already tell that something is off. He hasn’t called out to you with his usual, “Hey stupid, I’m home.” You hadn’t even received his typical text telling you he was leaving the gym. The tense silence seeps into the airspace as he makes his way toward you, Tsukki’s feet dragging with every step.

As he turns corner, you’re greeted by features taut with fatigue. It’s as though he’d been running on empty all day, barely making it home with only fumes of energy leftover.

Tsukki’s eyes were undoubtedly strained. The white, intense light of the gym combined with deep concentration kept him on high-alert with eyes wide open at all times.

His shoulders maintained a somewhat slumped position, losing an inch or two of height in the process. The mental weight of handling everything on his own had finally reached him physically.

This hadn’t been a good day, per se.

And if Tsukki had the energy to speak, he would probably tell you how much he would rather be in a month-long coma than experience that level of misery again.

But the hushed air remains and a bizarre staring contest takes place between you two instead of passing words. It’s hard to speak when you know that, deep down, words could never do his terrible days any justice. That even a thoughtful sentence or a well-intended comment would simply drown under Tsukki’s sea of thought, never resurfacing or coming up for air to be heard or understood.

He’s too exhausted to process even the shortest of loving dialogues. And you can tell.

So you sift through other possibilities.

Ways to calm him. To remind him that you care and want to look after him.

Should you make him dinner? He’s probably already eaten. Watch a movie together? No, the light would bother his tired eyes even more. Just go to bed? He would only continue to stir through his disappointments and be kept up by the throbbing of soreness in his legs.

As your eyes trickle down the length of his body, which is now leaning on the countertop as he takes a long sip out of his water bottle, you come to one final alternative…

But it’s always a bit of a gamble. A slight risk.

To touch or not to touch.

Would he lean into it like a self-satisfied, curious cat, tilting his lean body into your affectionate antics? Or would his brittle, biting character and miserable mood cause himself to crumble and fall away from the warmth and comfort of your smaller arms?

On one hand, you might experience your beloved Tsukishima’s gentler side. The one that held you as though he were a mama bird wrapping her wide-spanned wings around your precious form. Instinctively protective. A second-natured response to the way you circled your arms around his torso, tugging him into your field, requesting closeness and vulnerability. It could potentially get his mind off of the day and focus him on the here and now.

But on the other hand, Tsukki had a track record of off days. Jumping away from the soft glide of the pads of your fingertips. On those days, your embrace seemed to resemble that of a thorny, roseless bush to the wavy-haired blonde. The chance of him tugging away, leaving you drained and drooping, was higher than you had ever wanted to bet on. The possibility of him ending up at the opposite side of the bed seemed to increase after experiences like these.

And to be honest, you could never be sure if the touch-deterring wall he built up was to protect himself or you. Yet you always try to find ways to chip away at his salty, skeptical barrier without overstepping any fragile, unspoken boundaries.

It’s a simple concept. However, avoiding his sensitivities is an endless dance and is much harder than it may look. Especially at the end of a long day of pro-league practice, where sweat, sulking, and inferiority complexes don’t usually mix well.

But this was the only viable option left, so you get over your own worries and approach Tsukishima’s weary form. You stop just a few inches before him, his eyes dropping to meet yours. He was even more beaten down up close. The defeated expression he carried in tandem with his worn-out demeanor made you physically ache for him.

“Tsukki… you’re not lookin’ too hot right now.” You let out a breathy laugh, slowly lifting yourself onto your tiptoes to brush a hand through his messy hair, testing the waters.

He doesn’t flinch away from your movements, so you sink back down onto the soles of your feet, letting your hand run down the side of his face.

“No shit, Sherlock. I don’t exactly feel great either.” He shoots back, but there’s a somber, troubled tinge.

Tsukki inches toward you, looking away as he tilts the side of his head into the palm of your hand. Your fingers cup his cheek.

Everyone knew how Tsukki acted when he was annoyed or angry. Snappy, sarcastic comments would be strewn in an almost poetic manner, kindly crushing those under his scrutiny. Many had seen Tsukishima after a merciless game, beaten and worn out. He would still have a muted fire behind his efforts and would carry himself with dignity, even if he didn’t feel confidence rise inside of him.

But gloominess? It doesn’t suit him. Not now, not ever.

And currently, he’s emanating a dreary, depressing sadness, like being caught in a rainstorm without an umbrella to shield you. It’s helpless and uncontrollable. Utterly humiliating.

You can practically feel the strain of the day radiating off of him. Tsukki had a tendency to wither slowly and cautiously. Not allowing anyone to watch as his snarky comments fizzled out and his sharp gaze gradually dull. By the look in his golden eyes, it was obvious that something in him had already snapped like an old tree branch. Battered and bruised by storm after brutal summer storm, finally shattering under the repetitive pressures of failure and imposter syndrome.

In the past, he had let apathy take over in order to not burden you. Withholding affection, thinking it would keep you safe from his sinking atmosphere when in reality he wished to drink in your tenderness. To fall under your grasp, sinking his head under your chin and lay across your chest.

But maybe it was all too much.

Too much to hold in. To carry alone.

“Kei…” At the use of his first name, he physically softens. Drawing his arms around your middle and clasping his hands behind your back, he gently rests his chin on your head.

“You can always lean on me.” You whisper into the fabric of his shirt.

Your words carry a deeper semblance. That you really are here for him. Physically, mentally, and emotionally ready to lift him up.

You picked a good time for physical touch because he only pulls you in tighter.

He’s pretty warm and smells like sweat mixed with deodorant and his cedar-scented shampoo. You grasp the cloth and squeeze him into you, making sure to keep him steady and balanced. His breathing falls into a gentle rhythm, almost as though he were falling asleep standing up.

“If you weren’t so lanky I would pick you up, but you’re a damn tree.” You sigh, poking fun at him.

The touches were cathartic. Healing. Authentic. Your lighthearted comments kept things comfortable, hindering him from drawing away due to feelings of unworthiness or self-consciousness.

“Wow, okay, bold words for someone who can hardly seem to pick up a bag of flour. You couldn’t hold me even if you were my height.” He snickers, tension releasing and adrenaline wearing off from the high-energy day.

You shift to look up at Tsukki, your chin gently pressing into his chest. He’s already staring down at you. You can’t help that a blush works its way up your neck and onto your cheeks, the warmth from his unusual touch sending you unwarranted fuzzy feelings. As much as you wished this embrace could be all for Tsukki, you’d wanted to hug him with all your might for a while now.

“Y/n… Honest question, so don’t laugh at me. Why are you doing this?” Tsukishima breaks eye contact, arms shifting to lean your chest more on top of his as he sinks a little deeper onto the counter, his back supported by the ledge.

“What do you mean by ‘this’?” You inquire, eyes still fixed on him, searching his expression.

“I mean... You know when things are going to shit. You know when I need something. A back massage, a slap to the face, hell, even a coffee sometimes.” He snorts, trying not to take his own question too seriously.

You’re the one to sigh now. Doesn’t he know how these things work by now? That being in a relationship with him meant more than insulting the daylights out of each other and going out to dinner? Apparently even Tsukishima lacks a lot perspective when it comes to loving another human being.

“You’re stubborn as hell.” You state plainly, your face going blank.

“What?”

“You refuse to see that you need help too sometimes, babe. Hate to break it to ya, but I actually like listening to and hugging you.” You break into a small smile.

“What does that have to do with anything?” He rolls his eyes at your confusing sentence.

“Are you that dense?” You express with mock disdain at his response.

“Tsukki, I’m saying that you don’t burden me! That I want to be there for you even after shitty days like these! You’re an absolute dumbass!” You snicker and your smile reaches your eyes, crinkling and squinting as his meet yours.

Instead of saying anything, Tsukishima rests in place, dumbfounded.

It’s true, you always were there for him.

Cheering at every game. Cooking dinner for him when you knew he would get home way too late and practically starving. Letting him rant relentlessly about losses and seemingly endless practices.

So why was it that only after breaking down in every way possible, he would finally let you see his most vulnerable thoughts and fears. That he would allow you to witness his exhaustion only once it had reached its peak. That it took Tsukki completely collapsing to let you wrap you arms around him.

And you both guess that it’s because old habits die hard.

Tsukki would always be Tsukki. A little too cold and relentlessly set on drenching others in his never-ending supply of sarcasm. Reluctant to accept help until it was already showing through the bleeding cracks of his figure and laced within his pained speech.

Because for someone so good at putting up and breaking through blocks, Tsukishima needed help with the walls that he had built up under his skin over the years. He needed to see that he couldn’t always protect you from his fears, but that you would be there to help him fight them. Or at least hug them away when it all got too much.

And as he presses a gentle kiss onto your forehead, you know it will be okay. Because embraces like these are what chip away at walls of fear. It’s the first step and you can already feel the tension crumble away, allowing warmth to surround the two of you.

So you begin to remind him more and more that you like hugs. And he lets you hold him far more often, slowly but surely letting you deeper into his mind and into his arms. A much needed and highly welcomed addition to your everyday life.

---

tags: @cherryonigiri, @yams046, @miss-rin, @shou-kunn, @senkuwu-chan, @super-noya, @stcrryskies, @holaaaf, @sugacookiies

(comment or send an ask to be added to my general tag list)

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mwolf0epsilon · 3 years

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Aite, here’s the Joey Drew Studios and Co. from least to most cuddliest.

Bertrum Piedmont - Back off heathen. Physical affection is not his thing whatsoever. He’s more of a pep-talker. Might offer you comfort food as well as a sign of appreciation and affection. Hugs are reserved to people he trusts specifically.

Emma Lamont - Do you know who she is? She’s Emma Lamont, she doesn’t DO hugs. She doesn’t do little touches either. Her body, her wonderful and disciplined livelihood, is off limits. She’s had enough creeps trying to cop a feel in her youth, she’s not allowing anyone to get handsy with her ever again.

Lacie Benton - Honey, you want a hug, go hire a therapist or something. The best she’ll give you is a slap on the back and some words of encouragement. She doesn’t do soft mushy stuffs like cuddling or whatever. She’s a lady of iron will and steel bones. Not the most huggable of gals.

Doc Hackenbush - Cuddles are reserved for his daughter only. He’s a bit closed up to physical affection otherwise due to...Having had a pretty complicated relationship that left him emotionally drained. Physical touches are work-related only. He’s pretty gentle tho, so usually a checkup doesn’t feel overly cold or clinical. It’s obvious he’s a gentle sort.

Abby Lambert - If she trusts you enough, she’ll offer a hug. Trust is a pretty important thing for her in general when initiating affectionate moments. She will get upset if someone else initiates the contact without her express permission however.

Thomas Connor - His parents, Allison and his dog are the only ones he’s remotely comfortable being hugged or touched by. He’s not exactly the cuddliest of men and he’s pretty awkward with affection in general. Allison was helping him explore the more physical side of their relationship.

Grant Cohen - While he’s not completely opposed to being touched, he’s uncomfortable if the contact is prolonged. He can also get overwhelmed if he experiences too much contact in one day. It’s a bit like sensory overload for him, since he’s used to being left on his lonesome for extended periods of time. Will absolutely melt if held by someone he’s very close to.

Shawn Flynn - Physical affection is both rough and soft on his part. He’ll shove people out of the way, hold their hand through certain situations, push or pull them to move faster if they’re being too slow, and correct whatever mistakes they’re doing by either removing them from the situation, or taking control himself. He’s not being hostile when he does these things, he’s just a little impatient at times. Cuddling is a different story, it’s the only time he ever has any patience for the passage of time at a slow crawl.

Joey Drew - Touch starved but very picky with who gives him any sort of physical affection. Will act like a lost puppy if he’s around someone he absolutely trusts. Will become incredibly cold and hostile towards those he perceives as having betrayed his trust. Doesn’t speak to them and refuses their touch. You feel sort of...Cold around him.

Allison Pendle - After establishing boundaries, Allison will go from being a reserved lady to being the most physical lady you’ve ever met. Consent is a big deal for her, so this sort of affection is reserved for those she knows have earned it. She’s eager to help get others more comfortable with the more physical side of either a platonic relationship or a romantic relationship. She strives to make everyone she holds dear to her, feeling happy and secure in her presence.

Dot - She’s ok with dispensing hugs with most people if it means they might feel better. Hand-holding on the other hand is sacred for her. It’s only ever done with people she feels safe around.

Buddy Lewek - He’s a little on the shy side so he doesn’t initiate contact very often. He seems more like the one needing the physical reassurances than anything else.

Susie Campbell - She’ll hug and even jump on people she’s absolutely comfortable around of. Otherwise she keeps her hands to herself and keeps a close eye on people in case they’re about to initiate any form of unsolicited physical affection. She’s not an easy gal after all!

Sammy Lawrence - The odds are 90% to 10%. He’ll either deck you if you touch him, or he’ll allow it to happen. Has a very finite list of people allowed in his personal bubble, and will either rip you a new one with words alone, or knock your teeth out if you’re nowhere near qualified to touch him. The only people that know he’s a bit of a secret cuddle bug are Jack, Susie, Norman, and his sister. Everyone else assumes he has a heart of stone.

Wally Franks - To a degree, his physical affections is a little more aggressive at first glance. He’ll either eagerly hug you or suplex you. Will wrestle with people on a whim if he’s feeling rowdy. Has a tendency to slap people on the back as a sign of friendship, but he’s got a bit of a heavy hand. He’s basically an overeager puppy with way too much energy and a lack of understanding that he might be a bit too much for other people to handle at times.

Linda Stein - She is the sort to pick people up to get them out of certain situations, or to offer comfort if they’re upset. This is usually reserved to family and friends however.

Jack Fain - He’s the type of guy who will initiate contact as both a sign of friendship and affection. He’ll bump shoulders, give you back pats, shove you playfully if you tell a bad joke, etc. Great hugger too!

Norman Polk - Absolute cuddlebug. He’s got the physical build for great hugs too! You wouldn’t know this of course because usually Norman is very reserved.

Henry Stein - He’s a very physically affectionate person. The sort to hug or hold people to comfort them. The embodiment of great dad hugs and gentle pats.

#Bendy and the Ink Machine #BATIM #Headcanons

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curious-menace · 3 years

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Arkham Scarecrow SFW Alphabet

im really enjoying writing arkham scarecrow. maybe ill do something similar to my random riddler headcanons posts with some scarecrows

long post under the cut

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Uhhh, the short answer is no. Jonathan is almost wholly incapable of what most people would term “affection”. His idea of loving is not using you for his experiments, only giving you small doses to build up your immunity( not that that will stop him from enjoying watching you panic). Jonathan leans heavily on gifts and words of affirmation as his language of love ( assuming he can even feel that emotion). He calls you “my dear” and “my darling” or once “my pumpkin” if he had too much to drink.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

Jonathan would make a good friend if he could ever be wrangled into admitting it. He’s a complete bastard, but he's a loyal bastard. He always goes above and beyond for his friends but it's always in a “aw shit. My favorite idiot needs help AGAIN?!” begrudging , kind of way. You probably met in university/college and if you've stuck with him this long he’d be hard to get rid of.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

He never asks for cuddles and is pretty touch adversed as a rule. Sometimes though, He simply plonks himself in your space and expects you to know what he wants. Usually it's gentle backrubs/strokes like you would with a child. Sometimes he just wants your warmth to sooth his aching body. He’s heavier than he was in Arkham asylum but still very underweight so you shouldn't have too much trouble moving him into a comfortable position.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

Absolutely not. I'm not convinced this man owns more than his books and the burlap sack on his back ,never mind a home. He has plans to take the cloudburst on tour, to go cross country and then across the world spreading fear. That would be a little difficult if he had gotham mortgage sending him nasty emails every other day about missed payments. While he can cook and clean, I doubt you'd want to eat anything he made. Ignoring his filthy hands, he's probably laced it with fear toxin or a lethal amount of hot sauce.

His homemade cleaning chemicals are pretty stellar mind you. They can get blood, piss or tears out of anything.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

Scarecrow really is a ride or die kinda guy. If you've wormed your way into his life then he’s going to do literally everything and anything to keep you in it. He’s not above making you dependent on him for safety just to keep you around longer. He’s not a total monster to the people he cares about mind you. If you really didn't want to be with him, he’d let you go….eventually.

I'm not sure he fully understands the concept of a “breakup”on his end. He gets that you don't see eachother anymore but I don't think he quite grasps that it's not because one party is dead. There's a 99% chance he’ll use you for his fear toxin experiments as a way of kicking you to the kerb. If you wake up in a ditch with a text that says “we’re through” you should consider yourself lucky.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

I canon arkham scarecrow as having been engaged at one point in his life, possibly around the time of origins. I can imagine his partner gave him a “me or the fear toxin” ultimatum which has led to the man you know now. Despite how he looks, how he speaks and acts, he’s still open to the idea of a partner. He’s a loyal man who can't stand backstabbers, he’d appreciate someone like a spouse/husband/wife to have his back. If he decided he wanted to get married he’d propose almost immediately. It might be more of a business or thesis type proposal with lots of talking rather than flowers and wine and you're likely to be married as soon as you said yes.

He has a tiny pumpkin ring saved for the occasion. Something like this (image credit https://www.banggood.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

He’s gentle, in a creepy way unsurprisingly. He was a little stronger than the average man before the incident with croc, all that cardio and fighting with batman made him a skinny legend amongst the rogues for how well he could fight. Now? He couldn't fight his way out of a paper bag. Mostly he's calm and soft, especially when you wouldn't expect him to be. He can still be an emotionally manipulative person but chances are good you're smart enough to see right through him. Calling him on his bs is actually a good way to endear yourself to him. He likes a challenge and he loves it when people think they can outsmart him.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

Hmm. yes and no. Scarecrow is severely touch adversed, but...It's not like with Riddler; Edward is on the autism spectrum and genuinely gets overstimulated by a lot of physical contact, he doesn't usually enjoy it unless under specific circumstances. Scarecrow WANTS to be hugged and held on occasion, but the mere thought of someone in his personal bubble sends his hackles up.

When he first woke up after the asylum, he clung to you like a lampent. Scarecrow gives and recieves hugs like someone who needs them to breath.Your warmth soothes the aching pain when even drugs couldn't . By the time of Arkham Knight he’s grown cold and distant. His hugs are few and far between and unusually half hearted even when he initiates them. Maybe he’s just preoccupied with batman.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

I doubt he’d ever say the words ``i love you” but he’s absolutely going to quote love poetry at you, recite lines from his favorite literature “shall i compare you to a summer's day” and all that. That’s far better than a simple “i love you” right?

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Jonathan is sort of one note when it comes to expressing frustration. Coffee machine not working? Melt it down into fear toxin vials. Line at the grocery store? Gas everyone out of his way. He doesnt get mad, he gets even. He’s not a super jealous person, he’s probably the most secure in himself out of all the rogues in Gotham bar Selina and ivy. But when something does hit his jealousy bone just right? LORD HE IS TERRIBLE.

Unless you were the instigator, you are 100% safe but the poor soul who made the mistake of flirting with you will never see the light of day again.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

He can't really kiss to be honest. He lacks a lot of lip tissue and tongue dexterity for deep smooching. He’s quite happy to give you little pecks on the cheek but anywhere else will get sloppy and he's not a fan of that. Jonathan has actually started to bump you with his head like a cat in lieu of kisses. Rare as it is, when he wants kisses he has a tendency to nuzzle into the crook of your neck or rest his head on your shoulder. He likes to be kissed on the cheek , forehead and top of his head. Most other places are covered in scars and lack the sensitivity to enjoy it.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

He likes to scare kids. It's not as malicious as it is with adults, he just likes to yell boo at them, smiling as they scream and giggle and run away. It's probably the most innocent he’ll act around other people. He still doesnt like them per say but he’ll tolerate them in small doses.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Scarecrow , like most rogues, is not a morning person. He doesn't sleep well and he is hella grumpy when he first wakes up. Expect to watch him shuffle around his hideout like a zombie, still wearing a quilt and his dressing gown as he complains about everything from the weather to the loud creaking of the floorboards. You should present him with food and coffee and then retreat to a safe distance until he’s fully awake, otherwise he’s liable to turn on his grumpy old man routine on you. If he's feeling particularly sore or needy, he’ll ask you to help change his bandages and dressings .

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

It really depends on what he feels like in the moment. Sometimes he’ll leave you at home while he goes out to cause general mischief, sometimes he’ll bring you along as a look out. Sometimes it's a low-key night at the hideout reading and sometimes it's a caffeine fueled frenzie of experimentation and lab work with you as his trusty lab assistant. He doesn't sleep well at night, the aches keep him up. If he were ever to actually go to bed he might find that you make a great pillow.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

As much as he resents people having the upperhand with information, it's hard not for people to see his past. His scars are so easily visible, inside and out. He doesn't talk about his past unless prompted. But if you do he’ll quite happily answer all your questions; he’s not afraid of discussing it.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

Jonathan is a very patient man, not just when it comes to revenge.It takes quite a lot to make him fly off the handle and he cools off again quickly. That's not to say he doesn't hold a grudge like he’s being paid for it, only that it's more of a simmering anger rather than a boiling one.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

He remembers most things about you, he has an excellent memory. But that being said he never lets on that he knows these things. He likes to hear you talk about the things that interest you, even if you've told him about it before. Watching you wax lyrical about your chosen subject makes him feel close to you.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

I don't know if it's a favorite or even a positive memory but when he first woke up from surgery after croc you were lying beside him. He was understandably confused, maybe even afraid, but seeing you there brought him great comfort. He didn't know what was happening because of all the meds, but as long as you were with him he was confident things would work out for him.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

He means well, you should always keep that in mind before you snap at him. He brought you to the arkham knights HQ to protect you from his plans, he’s given you micro doses of fear toxin to build your resistance and by the time of arkham knight you can hardly move for the amount of guards he has following you around. He’s overbearing bordering on controlling but I think it's because he simply can't admit the thought of losing you scares him, even just a little. You aren't a rogue, you don't know Batman like they do. He just needs to keep you safe from batman, from the police and from the ugly world outside.

Given how weak he’s been viewed practically all his life, I believe he’d resent the accusation he needed protecting. deep in his mind he knows no one man is an island. He appreciates little helps even if he won't say it. He doesn't need protection per say but If nothing else, after being injected with his new toxin, he's going to need someone who’s corpus mentis in his corner for court and medical proceedings.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

His idea of a perfect date is you two working on your respective projects in comfortable silence, maybe a trip to the museum if he feels like the exercise. Obviously that suits some people down to the ground, myself included, but he gets that it's not for everyone. He’s probably ok with you planning the activities provided you warn him beforehand.

Given everything he’s been planning for batman, things like important dates and even everyday tasks have a tendency to get lost in the fray. He's not doing it on purpose, He’s glad to celebrate these things with you if you remind him, He's just got his priorities in a funny order.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

He shuffles his feet when he walks and is one of those people who always has conversations in doorways. You can never be sure he isn't aware of these habits and is doing them on purpose. He also used to smoke quite heavily but has since given it up due to his throat and lung issues.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

It's sort of a mixed bag with him. On the one hand he knows he’s ugly, that's the point. You're MEANT to be scared looking at him, he’s leaning into it. But on the other hand his “look” is a carefully maintained visage; if it slips it might lose the intended effect. He might not be as scary to look at or worse, people might look at him in pity. It's not ordinary vanity or narcissism but yes, he is concerned with maintaining the way he looks

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

The concept of feeling whole is somewhat lost on him; He’s clearly missing a few screws even in his most lucid moments. That said even in the depths of madness brought on by his toxin, he still notices your absence. Still incredibly distressed In his cell in blackgate, he can often be heard crying out to you for comfort but is lacking the wherewithal to understand why you're not there.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

Given that he has pretty extensive facial injuries, eating is pretty difficult for him. He used to really enjoy bagels and cubanos from gothams many deli’s. His favorite was a kosher deli in The Cauldron, before Joker ruined it. They’ve since rebuilt and while he can't eat many solids anymore , he still enjoys their matzo soup and smoothies.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

Like most of the rogues, he absolutely can't stand bullies.He also can't stand physically aggressive people; if you're going to even TRY and intimidate him maybe you could use your words like someone with more than 2 brain cells to rub together, rare as that is in gotham. Back when he was a psychiatrist he hated people who were chronically late. Not his patients, most of the time it wasn't their fault due to executive dysfunction or traffic, but people who kept HIM back and made HIM late were the bane of his existence.

Z = Zzz (What are their sleep habits?)

Crane is a back sleeper who snores because of his damaged septum.He knows he makes a noise akin to a flip flop in a lawn mower but there is literally nothing he can do about it besides sleep on his stomach. He squirms around a lot in his sleep so even if he starts on his stomach, he’ll be on his back snoring like a dead horse in no time. The only thing that could keep him frontwise is if he were to sleep on you and have you hold him in place.

#Sfw alphabet #scarecrow #jonathan crane #headcanons #scarecrow headcanons #my headcanons #my stuff

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sheepishpink · 4 years

Text

Like A Pie In The Sky (1/2)

Surely you meant more to him, but the month of sudden radio silence from him and his brothers planted a seed of doubt within you. Just why had the boisterous amount of text and calls come to a sudden halt?

Miscommunication and naive decisions caused everyone unnecessary grief. Though it is basically Lucifer's fault and he definitely wants to make amends because he doesn't want his newly found pride and joy to be lost.

Pairing: Lucifer x M/C (GN!/You)

A habitual overcast in the city made its presence known similar to a poorly tuned violin. The droplets pelting the stationary window of the cafe where the loud rhythmic tune of the rain softens; drowned out by the romantic strums of an acoustic guitar on the radio. The song ironically pulling at your heartstrings as your gifted phone sits bitterly still.

It has been a little over a month since you have spoken to Lucifer and his siblings.

The long calls and frequent text dwindling into nothing. This gave you the impression the hype of having a human exchange student has lost its sparkle. Devildom's enlightening experience of your presence faded along with the supposed unbreakable bond you have created with them. The evidence of said 'bond' existing in inky possession under your clothes, the vibrations of longing no longer burning from each brand.

Sitting in the cafe with the bitter aftertaste of your coffee on your tongue, you reminisced about the time spent in the strange underworld. Your mind particularly circling around Lucifer like vultures around a decaying carcass.

This is not what you wanted; a mind preoccupied by a demon. That alluring horned jerk was the reason you ventured out of your home. You wanted to enjoy an earthly leisure, the companionship of humans in attempts to bury the stirring emotions towards the demon. The thirst for some sort of response from Lucifer after month’s left on read seemed to heighten in the emptiness of your own home.

You believed being among others would rid yourself of this edging feeling, but you were wrong. It made you feel just as isolated as when you sat in your home. A lonely feeling prods at you brain as you watched people thoroughly enjoyed each other’s company.

What a mistake.

Here you sat. Still hoping for a reply that was less than likely to happen.

You missed the chaotic time in Devildom. And most of all Lucifer.

Perishing the thought you finished your cold coffee, picking up your phone and glanced at the time. The unbalanced liquid slides down your throat and leaves a milky ring in the dark mug.

A generous tip and a wipe of the lips you are out into the pouring rain. Quickly pulling your hood up, waving kindly at the barista wishing you a good rest of the morning.

With your keys jingling in your hand you lightly jogged to your car, fumbling with your car remote in the heavy rain. Your thumb quickly pressing the button as the distance between you and your car door shortened, the car still refusing to respond to your desperate clicks despite you now standing right next to it.

You should really get the batteries replaced.

Swearing under your breath you wipe the dribble of water from the tip of your nose and resorted to violently shoving your key into the car and twisting the lock until you hear the comforting click.

You smiled gratefully until the muted sky had suddenly gotten darker. A tall inky shadow in the reflection of your car window, accompanied by a chilling aura caused you to clumsily turn around in horror—limbs knocking against the cars metallic frame earning some looks from bystanders.

"What the fuck-!?" Your fingers curled into a fist with the keys defensively slotted between them. "Lucifer…?" Your protective stance began to drop along with your keys which clacked against the parking lot pavement.

You foolishly blinked. Mouth pathetically agape, unsure what to make of his sudden appearance—watching as he handsomely combs his fingers through his wet locks drip as he held an umbrella over you.

Lucifer snorts at your reaction and bends down to pick up your keys. He straightens himself, still holding the umbrella up to shield you from the rain while he continued to take a majority of the heavy rain. An amused smile present on his lips as he held your dingy keys out to you in his gloved hand.

"Good morning, beloved."

Your anger and confusion washed away at his endearing pet name. Your arms desperately squeezing his midsection as you unabashedly rubbed your face against his chest, knocking into him excitedly. Your keys clattering onto the ground once again.

The wet buttons on Lucifer’s uniform dug into your skin as you hugged him harder. His chest rumbling with melodic laughter at your strongly affectionate greeting.

Adjusting the umbrella in one hand and returning your hug with the other he speaks.

“I’ve missed your touch since our last meeting.” Your clothes feel sticky under the wet weather as his hand rubbed your back affectionately, making your skin prickle at his gentle attention.

Pressing your chin against his chest as you looked up at him. Cheeks warming and ears ringing at the sight of him—causing you to momentarily think about his previously stripped title, Morning Star. You could not help but puff your cheeks childishly as your anger trickled back in, admittedly, not as strong as it was before.

"Why have you and your brother's been so distant lately? I thought you were done with me..." Your voice was softer than you anticipated. You pressed your face onto Lucifer’s chest, an ear comfortably listening to his quickening heartbeat.

"Done with you...?" he was clearly perturbed by your choice of words, responding earnestly to your concerns.

"I have no true excuse.” He started slowly. “When you mentioned your busy schedule, I thought it would be best for my siblings and I to let you focus on your responsibilities."

His umbrella rested on his head as he utilized his arms fully to give you a comforting hug.

"I was clearly wrong in my decision based off of your expression—I did not mean to make you feel unwanted."

You felt his cheek press against the top of your head as his umbrella slid off of him, his wet hair tickling the side of your face. Taking advantage of his closeness once again, you gave him an urgent squeeze, delightfully basking in his presence.

Lucifer suddenly pulled back causing you to look up at him once again. Standing in the heavy rain in silence, the sound of pedestrian and moving vehicle pulls you awkwardly back into reality. Your eyes darting between your surroundings and Lucifer, the start of this cliché cinematic scene unfolding between the both of you made you flush.

Clumsily wiping the rain off your face with the back of your hand, you began to pull away. Although, Lucifer had other ideas. Taking your chin between his fingers he begins to close the gap between you. His clear intent to kiss you and his half-lidded stare caused your heart to quicken. The anticipation to have his supple lips touch yours and the current display of PDA caused your eyes to dart anywhere but his face. With a click of his tongue he beckons you to look at him.

“Oi, you know how much a hate being ignored.” He directs your face to point towards him. His voice held no malice but mild amusement and need. This ultimately gave you no choice but to look at him. Your eyes looking between his strawberry lips bow and sultry eyes. “That’s better.”

Lucifer captures your lips which ignites a flame under the surface of your skin. His lips like two soft petals of the rose he gave for you for Christmas—a simple gesture, but profoundly beautiful. He languidly pulls away after swiping his tongue gently across your lip, a smile etched into is usually strict features.

Your brow creases in desperation and embarrassment from the exchange. A smug look slowly arising on his lips due to your lack of words causing your fingers to dig into his uniform—he was clearly pleased by your coy response.

“I missed you.” His smile growing wider and your cheeks blossomed in hot colors. You were so warm you swear if he kissed just a bit longer your clothes would have dried.

Enraptured by the way his dark lashes feathering around his crimson iris as the rain glistened against his skin. He was truly the most beautiful creature you have caught the gaze of.

An eruption of emotion bubbling in your chest as you professed how you felt.

“I missed you too.”

Rushed heavy footsteps against the soaked pavement followed by the sound of pedestrians laughing among themselves caused your sudden wistful realm to fade and you were slapped back into reality.

You pull away from him and you gauchely grabbed the fallen umbrella to shield you both from the gaze of others and the fierce rain. You peer up at him under your lashes, both hands tightening around the umbrellas handle.

Lucifer chuckles at your behavior. The delicate fabric of his gloved fingers slides warmly under your cold chin, allowing you to fully lift your gaze directly at him once again. He leans in as he thumbs your chin gently, your knuckles start to whiten as you hold the umbrella in anticipation of his next move.

His nose touching your as his breath tickles your lips and places an impishly quick lips on your nose.

“Let us get out of the rain. Shall we?”

To be continued...

#lucifer x mc #obey me lucifer #lucifer obey me #fanfiction #lucifer x reader #text #OBEY ME #swd obey me #obey me shall we date #shall we date #re-posted because tumblr not letting me post akjskndkjandna

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the-awkward-outlaw · 4 years

Text

A New Adventure - Pt. 7

A Slow Burn

I think the title speaks for itself... We’ll see how long I can manage it! (I predict not very long at all)

Masterlist

Read on AO3

It’s been a week since the big earthquake. You read that there’s been over 200 documented aftershocks. Most have been under the 2.5 range, meaning they’re barely noticeable without equipment. However, there were some above 4.1, meaning they were enough to frighten you and Arthur.

As you predicted after spending the first night with him, nothing between you and him has been the same. In a good way though.

Arthur was an ideal gentleman that night. Of course, you expected nothing less from him. He was the last man you needed to worry about.

The morning after the quake, you woke up to an empty bed. He walked in about five minutes later with a cup of coffee for you to drink in bed.

There was a tense, awkward silence. You weren’t quite sure what to say to him. “That was great, I hope we do that again”? No. “Thanks for letting me sleep all packed against you”? Worse.

He broke the silence by explaining there’d only been a few small aftershocks.

“Guess… guess we need to talk. About last night,” he’d said.

“Guess we do. I… I understand if you prefer to sleep in the other bed.”

He smiled and looked away. “Well, I was thinkin’... it was nice… to uh, not be alone for once. I didn’t expect to sleep last night with all the rumblin’, but… I slept surprisingly well.”

You couldn’t but smile back at him. “Me too. Thank you, Arthur. I don’t think I would’ve coped if you weren’t here.”

He surprised you yet again by gently grabbing your hand and squeezing it.

Since then, the two of you have been more touchy with one another. Not in any sexual or romantic ways of course, but just the small bump here and there, and the occasional hand holding. He’s also taken to sitting on the same couch as you, as though he likes the physical closeness.

You’ve always had a suspicion, even when you only knew him from the gang, that Arthur was secretly touch starved. His behavior now only solidifies that.

You aren’t overly touchy, but you find yourself making an exception for Arthur.

More and more, you want to ask him to be your boyfriend. You can’t tell if he likes you in that way though. However, it’s not just the complexity of his situation that prevents you from asking him. It’s only a matter of time before he figures out you’re not worth his energy.

The thought breaks your heart, but you decide to enjoy his company while you still have it.

Lately you’ve been testing how he reacts to you, to see if maybe there is something between the two of you.

One night, you’d walked up behind him while he was sat on the couch and brushes the back of his shoulder, claiming his shirt was laying in an odd position. This was a downright lie of course, but you noticed the back of his neck burned red after your touch.

Ever since that night after the earthquake too, he’s been more flustered around you. Not that you’ve been any different. It’s almost impossible to look him in the face without blushing.

There’s still lots of aftershocks from the quake.

After the first night, you thought Arthur would spend the nights with you in your bed. However, he chose to sleep in his own bed but said you were welcome to bother him should anything happen.

This bummed you out. Perhaps he didn’t like you in that way. Maybe he blushed whenever anybody touched him. It’s not like he was used to it, afterall.

Your feelings towards him have become confused and indecipherable even at times. You still love him as the sarcastic, tough, secretly sensitive outlaw protagonist from the video game you love, and you still have a raging crush on him as a person. However, why waste your time and energy on loving him that way if the feelings aren’t returned?

You’re rather draggy today, a combination of poor sleep and the fact that you cried yourself to sleep. It wasn’t just the constant stress of the aftershocks. Your depression and doubt had gotten the better of you last night.

All you could think of was how no one seemed to want to stick around you, that you were just a giant waste of everyone’s time. That Arthur would be far better off if he’d been discovered by someone else.

You didn’t even consider the fact that without you, Arthur would probably be in a horrible place. Either back in the game and dying/dead or in a mental hospital being treated for an illness he didn’t have.

The only thing your brain could focus on was that, just like everyone else in your life, Arthur would leave too. After all, your dad’s dead, taken from you by force. Your mother is too occupied on herself to give you the time of day. Your only sister, whom you’ve never been close with, lives in a different state. You don’t have any friends. You’re just one of those people that exists to take up space. It was not a good place to be.

Arthur knew from early in the day that you aren’t yourself, that you’re far more quiet than usual. You lack your usual excitement towards Sage as you prepare to feed her is gone.

“You okay?” Arthur says, sipping his coffee.

“What?” you say, completely lost in your head.

“I said ‘you okay?’”

“O-oh. Yeah, I’m fine.”

You decided this morning that you need to shelve your attractions to Arthur. He doesn’t like you in that way, in fact he’d be a fool to. But for your own mental health, you need to take a step back.

Part of you wishes you’d never asked him to spend that night in your bed. It’s made things so much more complicated. If only you’d been strong enough to handle the night alone.

“You don’t seem fine,” Arthur says, pulling you back out of your head. Damn it doesn’t help he’s wearing nothing but his union suit and his jeans, so you can see the definition of his body fairly well. “Ya seem… I don’t know, sad for some reason. Just kinda down.”

Tears begin to well at the bottom of your eyes. Of course. You’ve been trying so hard to keep yourself together, but the moment someone asks if you’re fine, you have to break down. You turn away and wipe your eyes so Arthur won’t see.

“I’m fine, Arthur. Like I said. Do yourself a favor and… don’t worry about me.”

You turn back to Sage’s food. Poor dog, she’s been patiently waiting for a while now.

Suddenly there’s a hand on your shoulder.

“But I do worry about ya, Y/N. Y’know, you done so much for me. I know I been a… a burden.”

“You ain’t been-” you start.

“No, I have been. Please, let me… let me finish. I know you’ve had a lot of stress. From what I can gather about your time is that it’s hard. In different ways then my time was hard. This world moves so fast, I can hardly keep up with it and I barely have a part in it. I know it ain’t easy on anyone, even you. Then I come along, make things harder. Know my meds have been expensive. Then these earthquakes. Please, let me help you for once.”

“You’ve helped me, Arthur,” you say, feeling incredibly embarrassed. “I mean, you got all that money for me when this COVID crap hit.”

“Sure, but… Please, Y/N. Lemme help ya.”

That’s all it takes and you’re breaking down in front of him. God, he must find you pathetic. It’s no secret he’s got a short fuse and doesn’t often have the patience to deal with emotional people. With his background, he has to be tough and it must be easy for him to find you weak.

“Please, Arthur,” you beg. “Please don’t worry about me. It’s fine, I can deal with this on my own. Besides, you have your own stuff to worry about.” You wipe your tears, unable to muster the courage to look at him.

A finger goes under your chin and lifts your head up gently so you have to look at him. Instead of the anger or annoyance you expected, you see pity and worry.

“Ain’t got a whole lot other than you to worry about, sweetheart. I just wanna help ya.”

“I… I can’t,” you whisper. How can you tell this man that you’re growing to love him more than any other person. He can’t know, and you wouldn’t even know how to begin to tell him.

“Why not?” he asks.

You swallow and look away. “Because you wouldn’t understand, Arthur. You and I… we’re nothing alike. We’re cut from different molds. I wouldn’t begin to wrap my head around the burdens on your shoulders, so I don’t expect you to understand mine.”

“Try me,” he says with a small smile.

He leads you over to the couch and sits you down on it. His eyes are soft and gentle, but he doesn’t press you to talk immediately. After he hands you a tissue, you decide it’s safe to at least tell him some of the things you’re feeling.

“Arthur I… I know you know how it feels to just not live anymore. What it’s like to long for death. Well, I… I guess I been feeling that a lot lately. I just… I don’t matter to anyone.”

You sniff and wipe your eyes again. He opens his mouth to speak but you cut him off. “And please don’t give me that trope of ‘there’s people who care, blah blah blah’ because I don’t see them.”

You tell him about your past experiences with people and why you prefer being alone and how you expect you’ll die alone.

“People just don’t like me, Arthur. Everyone figures it out in the end that I’m just not worth being around. There’s not a single person in this world whose life I’ve affected.”

“Then I guess it don’t matter that I owe you my life.”

You look up at him, your eyes wide. He scoots a little closer.

“Y/N, who cares if ya don’t make a difference in this world? Most people don’t. Most people are barely remembered five minutes after their deaths except for those they were close to. Trust me, you’ve no idea the effect your death would have and there’s no way for you to know, just like the rest of us. And please don’t say you don’t matter to no one, because… you matter to me.”

He takes your hand and squeezes it softly. Instead of feeling the affectionate flutter of your heart you expected to feel, you feel a soft tenderness and surge of friendship towards Arthur. It’s this moment you realize that he’s the one person you can trust to tell anything to. Already you feel better.

“Thank you, Arthur,” you say, squeezing his hand back. “You’re a good man.”

“Nah, I ain't. You don’t know the things I done.”

“I know some of them. Bu you’re a good man to me.”

#arthur morgan #arthur morgan x female reader #red dead fanfic #a new adventure #i'm awkward

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boogiewrites · 5 years

Text

Choking On Sapphires 80

Characters: Alfie Solomons x Genevieve (OFC)

Title & Song: 505

Summary: Genevieve comes home from the hospital. The journey to her recovery begins, but there are so many more things besides bruises and broken bones to worry about healing. Alfie tries to push back his own trauma from the event he's in denial over, and the whole house has to watch as things get worse before they get better. Song is 505 by The Arctic Monkeys.

Warnings/Tags: Language. Canon typical violence. References to assault and violence. Near death experiences. PTSD. Suffering/Physical Pain. Fluff.

Click on my icon then go to my Mobile Masterlist in my bio for my other works and chapters. (Had to do this since Tumblr killed links, sorry.) Please like, comment and reblog if you enjoyed it! It helps out us writers A LOT!

Alfie had kept his word so far. Every time Genevieve would open her eyes to escape the mixture of horror and fantasy that kept circling in her subconscious in her sleep he would be there.

When the memories of what had happened would become less fuzzy, would creep into her dreams, he’d be there holding her hands as she fought out of the drug-induced slumber she felt held prisoner in to keep her from hurting herself. She’d make unsettling noises during her fits. Feet kicking and arms twitching and flailing as her face pained and winced, eyes rolling under their purple lids in the misshaped sockets for the violence she was reliving.

Sometimes the dreams would be pleasant though. An escape to another timeline where none of this had happened. She’d make hums of approval in her sleep, nuzzling into her pillow and it would make Alfie sigh with relief. She deserved some respite from this reality he thought, and he was happy she could find it. If she stirred his hand would always find hers. Even on the rare occasion, he’d be able to fall asleep, back aching and twisted in the chair by her bed he’d keep hold of her as if someone could steal her away without him knowing again. When she would wake from her pleasant dreams he’d be there with his ruffled hair and haggard face, a soft glance she’d meet as he’d stroke her swollen hands. She liked to touch his face in these tender moments they shared. The back of her hand, the knuckle of a finger lightly against his scaled features and wiry beard. She’d give him an affectionate smile, one he’d seen in the mornings before her eyes would close again, him placing her hand back onto the bed as it started to slowly lower when she fell back into her peaceful distraction.

Within a few days with no seizures or signs of internal bleeding, she’s given the go-ahead to be released. Instructions for her care are given to each Alfie, Claire, and Aggie as they were life-threateningly important. She was out of immediate harm from some things, but plenty could still go wrong. Alfie schedules home visits with the doctor ahead of time and even has Ollie hear the orders for her medicine. He was taking no chances at anyone that would be near her not knowing what the fuck they were doing.

With the state of her still being so very fragile, still multicolored from injuries and barely breathing without pain, although the morphine did help that part, she couldn’t exactly walk out on crutches for her twisted ankle. Alfie commandingly insists on being the one to handle her. She did admittedly respond best to him. He has her taken out of the hospital by a back entrance via wheelchair. He wanted all the details of her situation to remain a secret for now. No one that didn’t already know, needed to know how bad it was. He didn’t want word getting out to the community they were a part of, her students, here children at the home. He wanted to keep that ideal version of her alive and well, as he still had faith she would return to it one day.

Despite the fog she found herself in, she tried to keep her head up as they drove out of town. There was a distinct smell to the air and as they were on their way out of the city, the swirls of smoke could be seen in the rear view mirror.

He sees her focusing, her nose twitching like a rabbit. She raises her hand, a single finger pointed behind them with a subtle tilt of her head in question as she could still not speak.

“The smoke?” He asks.

She moves the pointed finger up and down as an indicator for her answer of yes so she didn’t have to nod.

“That was me, love.” He says with a noisy exhale, turning her head from it gently. “I had everything he owned burnt down and everyone in it killed.” He has no remorse and a fling of hunger for the day left in his eyes. “Seems me 'n Tommy’s men burnt down near half of fuckin London. For you, love. No one is gonna mess wif a Solomons. ‘Bout time us Jews started remindin’ these goyim what we’re capable of. Didn’t survive this fuckin long through slavery and oppression to lay down on the cusp of birth of fuckin' Nazi’s.” He shakes his head, brow low and lips tight as his mind only thinks of more things to worry about. He closes his eyes before turning back to her and kisses her forehead. “I’d set the whole fuckin' world ablaze for ya love. If I had to have ya live on a fuckin' island somewhere to escape the flames yeah? Nuffin else but you and ours matters now, eh? Now you lay your head down darlin' and have ya little lie down and I’ll keep ya steady 'til we get ya home, yeah?” He offers, having her place her head on his shoulder, his large hand cradling it and her hip like a baby in his arms. He rests his cheek against her hair and breaths her in, keeping his lips to her when he’d inevitably get emotional with her in his arms all small and helpless now. With the lack of sleep and the strain of the events of the past few days, he’d been a mess. He’d been moody, even more so than usual. He'd neglected himself entirely. Not eating or sleeping of his own doing, always thinking, always worrying. It was starting to take more of a toll on him than he would admit to himself. But he was blinded by his compulsion to protect his love. Following the advice to be delicate with her the best he could.

Her home wasn’t exactly wheelchair friendly, but Alfie certainly didn’t mind carrying her back into the house, the chair brought in behind them as he keeps his eyes on her in his arms, anyone else not existing as far as he was concerned when she was within his eyesight. He has pillows brought and piled high on the bed for her, a little bell for her convince on her nightstand. He leaves his cane by the bed to aid her when she would inevitably need to use the loo.

The time spent with her unconscious he’d spent wisely with Ollie. Preparations of his own taken for the business to keep moving along without him. Despite the always nervous young man’s suggestion to keep his affairs as usual to keep up appearances, he was met only with a smack to the face as he was reminded he needed to understand that Alfie's word was rule and the rules would be changing now. It wasn’t that he didn’t care about his business, the tracks, the money, he still very much did. But for now, there would be a noticeable lack of Solomons around. He’d had his close call and it wasn’t going to take another one to make him see where he was needed. Ollie was a big boy and had been his second for years now. Ollie could handle it. At least until the threat against Gen’s well being was passed. But as the doctor had said, it was one day at a time.

The first step was to get her comfortable again. The bath proves difficult for both of them. He wanted her to feel clean, to smell like she had before the hospital, flowers instead of sterile. Neither of them spoke, Genevieve still having much difficulty doing so, and Alfie not wanting to say the wrong thing. His usual approach with humor to serious situations with her wouldn’t work his time and he didn't want to confuse the poor dear. As it turned out it was very easy to do in her currently still unstable state. She only makes sounds of pain when he touched her and his hurt shows on his face. She doesn’t meet his expression as she feels varied, swinging emotions as she’s faced with her naked body for the first time since being rescued. The bath water helps distort it, but she can tell even with her blurry eyes that there was plenty of distortion without the filter of waves from the water. Her swollen joints and skin that held reminders of the events that were still hazy to her, they were both left with undeniable proof that even if they didn’t know exactly what happened, that it had clearly been worse than either knew. For the first time in their relationship, they sat alone together in a heavy, uncomfortable silence. The things unsaid about the events that had unfolded sat like an invisible barrier between them, neither wanting to share how it truly made them feel. For the first time there was a disconnect between them, even Gen in her hazy mindset knew he looked at her differently, just as she was looking at herself. With a confusing mixture of pity and guilt.

Alfie does his best as the gentle touch she needs doesn’t come first nature to him. He brings her one of her favorite gowns, all silk and lace and slight enough to be able to keep watch on her injuries. But she makes a small sad noise and pushes it away when he brings it to her. She would’ve said she didn’t want something so lovely on this body, that it would only remind her of how she was before, but she couldn’t, and Alfie's expression remained puzzled. She didn’t need to try to be who she was before just yet. That version of herself was so far away, possibly even unobtainable now she felt. She wanted simple, to keep her mind calm. She needed comfort to offset the pain. She tugs on his shirt, damp from carrying her to bed. His intuition has never been such a highly valued skill to him as he retrieves one of his shirts from a chest of drawers and puts it on her gingerly, limb by limb. It smelled like him, it felt like him rubbing against her skin and let her chest bindings breathe. This is what she needed, not her silk and frills. Alfie sees a calmness take over her face as she strokes the fabric over her thighs. His darling needed him, needed comfort now. He had to attempt to let go of trying to do things his way. But that was never his strong suit.

After getting her set up in bed, she falls asleep quickly from the full day she’d already had in comparison to barely moving in the hospital. She sleeps soundly, seemingly heavy as she lies in a nest of pillows like a little bird.

He’s called from the bed, a phone call from Ollie already. He’s hesitant to leave her, but he didn’t have much of a choice in the matter. He’d had the phone removed from her room to make sure her rest wasn’t interrupted by it. He wanted her in quiet and calm with nothing that could disrupt or startle her. So he agrees to leave for only a moment.

When he returns, trying to shed his annoyance for Ollie’s tendency to panic and over question his own decisions he finds the bed empty and panics. Flashes of the night she disappeared come to him, his heart in his throat as all the hairs stand up on his skin, an anxiety attack on the verge of blooming like a boy after the war. He had his own issues from the abduction to deal with it seemed.

He hears a pained sound, something like a hurt animal, and as he approaches swiftly he finds just that. His little kitten on the floor and struggling to breathe, the cane by her side. Her arms shook and failed time and time again to hold herself up as she cried with croaked grunts from her bruised neck.

He calls her name over and over, she keeps her eyes screwed shut, teeth clenched in pain as her hands cling desperately to his forearms. “Gen you stubborn thing.” he sighs. He shushes and coos, pulling her up against his chest and setting her back on the bed. His big warm hands on her face and hair, wiping away tears and he instructs her to slow her breathing. “That’s it love breathe slow. It’s only pain. Don’t let it make you afraid.” He says in a kind tone, a hand to her wrist to feel her pulse.

At last she opens her eyes, her breathing wheezy and her posture slumped from the pain in her ribs. She opens her mouth and tries to speak and he shakes his head, putting his thumbs over the rough, broken skin.

“Don’t try to talk.” He instructs sternly. “Catch your breath and I’ll fetch the paper after. No rush now is there?”

She gulps and continues moaning with every exhale, feeling overwhelmed. Her hand reaches out and points to the bathroom as her head spins.

“You were trying to get in there, eh?” He asks, brushing her hair out of her face and she wiggles her finger to indicate he was correct. “I had a call and left for just a moment, thought you were deep asleep. You know better than to try to walk yourself in your condition.” He voice grows weaker with his pushing back of his frustrations, feeling another wave of guilt wash over him. “You wait for me to help you, yeah? Don’t go tryin’ so hard alone. We’re not there yet.” He plants a kiss to her forehead, lingering there as her hands move to his forearms. He feels her breathing steady, her hands stop trembling and her rest her weight against him. “That’s a good girl, yeah?” He says with an affectionate and very light stroke to her back. “Ya needed to take a wee love?” He says with a more playful tone, holding her chin up as she answers with her eyes looking to the bathroom doorway. “Well, we can manage that now can’t we? Right. Let’s get ya up. Ya ready for your Alfie to carry you?”

She mouths yes and raises her arms slowly to around his neck. The soft nuzzle into him as he grunts and lifts her, babying her the entire way makes her feel better in the moment. He was there. He was staying through every ugly bit of it and she didn’t need to worry about him right now, only herself. Whoever that was presently. She felt like a different person or no one at all at times. The mix of head injury and medicine leaving her confused, disoriented, bewildered and to say the least, spacey most of the time.

After settling her back into bed, he can tell she’s hurting badly, little whines with every exhale as he settles in next to her. He gives her another small dose of medicine to take the edge off. He couldn’t stand seeing her in pain and knew inside her was nothing but. It was only the first day of her being home, of the official start to the road of recovery and he knew it was going to be harder than he had initially imagined. But what he hadn’t expected was for it to be far worse before it got better.

Sleeps takes her quickly. She’s sucked into a dark undertow and deep into a very vivid dream. She comes to with a blink, as if she had been plunked into this new place. The first thing she notices is that there is no pain. A warm sun hits her skin which after inspection looked to be blemish free, her hands only wearing a wedding band and diamond ring and no bandages.

“Papa!” She hears, her head quickly turning towards the sound and having no dizziness from it. She’s surrounded by large green hedges that are dotted with flowers. They rise too tall for her to see over, but she can clearly hear the laughter of children beyond them. With fingertips dragging on the surface of the thick bushes as she walks, she follows the path before her and hears the laughter, sprinkled with the sound of birds throughout it. “Mama!” She hears called out, and she somehow knows the happy sound is for her. Her bare feet move quickly over the well-kept paths, a sense of happiness, of joy as she moves to a jog, her dress soft against her legs as she moves.

She emerges from the maze to a wide open garden of grass, trees and ivy wrapped lattice, bird baths and statues along the space that was nestled in the valley of a yellow-green rolling hillside the tall grass swaying in the distance. A young child runs in front of her, catching her attention.

She quickly hitched up her dress and chases after, running through the garden. One child disappears behind a corner, to reveal two as she rounds it as well.

“Mum!” She hears an older girl laugh, her long dark hair swishing and a crown of flowers atop of her head as she moves with the small child. Another corner, another child, all seeming to be different. All in their own little clothes, varying heights, hair colors, and styles. She chases around the hedge maze until there are five of them, then they move as a small herd, the older ones helping the younger as they fall and squeal.

She calls out for them in her pursuit. But their faces stay hidden from her. Even she stumbles, the soft, dark auburn hair of a little boy in shorts moving just out of reach. She comes back into the clearing, a white house now at the other end of the stretch of grass and an easily recognizable man standing with his little glasses on his nose, cane in hand, and a lovely booming voice calling out for her.

———

“Genevieve!” Alfie shouts as Aggie rushes out of the room and to the phone. “Wake up love, come now, stay with me.” His voice breaks as he holds her in his arms, his panic pulsing through his exhausted body.

He’d noticed her fall so still, not resting himself as her little tumble earlier had shaken him up. As the night went on she grew far too still for his liking, he could no longer see her chest moving up and down and that had sent the shouting and panic throughout the house that they sat in now. Her pulse was there but weak, his eyes wild and voice so angry as Aggie told him the doctor was on his way.

————

“Chanah!” Alfie's warm voice calls out to her. A sense of rightness, of contentment, follow as the small herd of children also hear him and let out their various sounds of approval as they head towards him ahead of her.

“Ari!” She calls out with a beaming smile.

“Papa!” One of the boys responds as he stumbles on his still young legs towards the inviting outstretched embrace of Alfie.

————-

“Ari.” Genevieve’s voice is a whisper, if he hadn’t been holding her head to his he would’ve missed it. He chokes back tears as he kisses her face and holds her hand, once again not thinking about having to let her go once the doctor arrived.

———-

The five children like broken stair steps range from an older girl, probably a teenager to a young boy and girl who looked to be barely even 6. The girls had bows and flowers in their hair and the boys had grass stains on their pants and messy hair. They looked a portrait of perfect to her. They kept moving just out of reach of Genevieve’s hands, the dreamscape making the run to meet Alfie go on for so long, and her frustration grew. She began feeling desperate to touch them, to feel them and know they were real, to see their faces and tell them sweet, loving things. But they kept out of her reach and she kept stumbling towards them with now filthy feet from the ground.

With the edge of the back porch of the house reached by the kids, Alfie ruffles their hair and looks a picture of a proud father. A little girl in his strong arms, her face buried in his neck as he laughs at another small boy wrapping his little arms around his leg. For a moment the thought crosses Genevieve’s mind that this might be heaven.

With the thought the oldest turns, her face coming into view now. She was strikingly beautiful. With dark hair dotted with flowers, the same Genevieve had been chasing earlier, and similarly, as the girl just a touch shorter than her who stood next to her, face still toward her father.

“Mum.” The girl says with a sweet voice that came from lips that looked like Alfies, Gen’s large eyes looked back in their mirrored image over the same rounded nose with Alfie's stormy blue pupils looking back at her.

“Yes, cheri?” Genevieve responds with a fluttering of her heart in her chest as the girl steps closer.

“I’m sorry.” She says with a kind smile.

Genevieve is confused, their hands reaching out, just a hair's width from touching.

“Chanah!” She hears Alfie shout, her head whipping fast to him as he motions her to come towards him, children still swarming him.

She gives a nod and a smile and moves to turn back to the girl but as fast as she’d turned her head, she was gone. She could almost feel the heat from her hand when it had almost slid into her own. She looks around, startled and upset, wondering where the lovely girl had gone.

“She’ll be alright, love.” Alfie says, motioning her towards him, he's missing his usual assortment of jewelry. Only a gold wedding band on his aged hand with it's faded crown tattoos. The little girl in his arms puts her own around his neck and squeezes. “Not time to meet her yet.” He says with an almost cheerful disposition. “You’ve still got to meet the others.” He says, turning and bouncing the girl, the boy now sitting on Alfie's foot as he walks with a waddle. The older girl that was left now walks with the older boy under her arm, rubbing his back affectionately as they move toward the house. Gen turns to look around the garden, still worried about the girl who disappeared. “Chanah!” Alfie calls out and she ignores it, feeling her heart race and her breath shorten. “Chanah love, come back to me!” His voice sounds different now. More demanding. “Chanah!” He shouts again with anger and she turns to look his way, a sharp dizziness taking her over as it feels like an omniscient hand yanks her from where she stands.

Her eyes open back into the reality Alfie had been dealing with while she was having her most curious experience.

“Chanah! Fuckin ‘ell girl ya gonna kill me wif 'is.” He says bending over her body on the bed.

She tries to say his name and only gets out “Ah-“ as is standard.

“Shhhh catch your breathing up love. Ya medicine put ya a bit too far under. Had to pull ya out of it dinnit I?” He holds her like a child as her eyes with their mixed pupil sizes loll around in her head.

“W-wuh-“ She grunts out.

“Hand us the paper there Agatha.” Alfie instructs, holding the ice water they’d been applying to her skin for past few minutes. “Ya need somethin'?” He asks, putting the pen gently into her hand.

“Ch-chi-“ She stutters and rasps, writing ‘children?’ On the pad.

“What are you on about love? There’s no children.” He doesn’t hide the confusion on his face as he turns to the doctor for answers.

“She’s most likely having trouble distinguishing real life with dreams as she comes out of it. Fairly common occurrence.” He says with a flat delivery.

“There’s no children, love.” Alfie whispers softly.

She whimpers, writing ‘where are the children?’ again as Aggie starts to cry at the state her lovely Genevieve was in. She thought of her as her own and seeing her suffer in any way, especially in a way she could not help hurt her deep down into her soul.

“There’s no children, love.” Alfie says with a more stern delivery, as she sweats and groans in his arms, wanting to struggle to get back to that lovely place but she’s so weak. Each toss of her head sends nausea flooding over her, her eyes showing white as the room spins. Nausea gives over to actual vomiting as Alfie leans her over the side of the bed where a bucket sat just for such an occasion. He shoots another questioning glance to the doctor.

“Also very common.” He nods. “Could be her stomach rejecting the excess medication, could be from the head injuries. Severe dizziness is common in cases such as these. It will pass.” His bedside manner wasn’t the best, but his reputation was and Alfie could easily forgo a sugar-coated delivery for fast facts.

“Let it out, love.” He says softly, rubbing her back and keeping her hair out of her face. This was worse than any other time he’d seen her sick whether from drink or violence. The sounds that escaped her were gruesome and churned his stomach just as much as hers was.

But the sounds faded, she passes out again, limp in his arms like a classical painting of tragic lovers. He holds her close, keeping her warm as she chills, speaking to her as she groans and shifts in her unrest. All this was reminding him of the war. The constant feeling the other shoe was going to drop at any moment, the tension and paranoia. He couldn’t sleep, he could barely allow himself to blink, lest she take a turn for the worst. Deep sleep and shallow breathing were part of the new medication she was on. He could’ve been told that one hundred more times but it didn’t make the terror that shot through his core when he thought her dead any easier to handle. Or the frustration he felt at the strong rise and fall of his own emotions he was not accustomed to.

She sleeps, but it is not peaceful. Her mind trying to rewire and heal, skipping and making missed connections, leaving her in a disturbing mix of memory and dream inside her own head. He stays up, swearing to himself she would not fail because of him. He kept watch like an ancient guardian relic over her. A slumped and bent, red-eyed and scaled skin gargoyle over her in the dark of the room, the fire casting them in uncanny low light. The sight of them was frightening, and only Agatha and Claire dare enter the room.

The two women, shunned by Alfie in his slow descent into madness it seemed watched on helplessly. Claire was by far the most optimistic of them all. She recalled Gen’s brother after the war and knew things like this happened. Setbacks were all part of the road to progress.

“Although you might think it insensitive of me to say so, I can’t help but look upon this scene as she would if she were us right now.”

“What do you mean dear?” Aggie says with a wrinkled nose.

“The lighting, the love, the tragedy. She’d be a big enthusiast of this would she not? The drama and aesthetic. I only wish I could capture it for her.”

“Why on earth would you want to recall this hellish night?” Aggie’s confusion clear in her voice.

“Because I know she’d think it would make a lovely painting,” Claire replies with a sigh, an almost happy look on her face as she watched on from the darkened hallway. “Gen would find the beauty in this madness. Since she can’t...we must.” She says confidently with a nod.

“That’s a beautiful point dear. We would all be best to keep it in mind the coming days. I fear this is not the end of the ugliness of recovery.”

“It is not. And we will. We will tell her of this when she’s better. And she will be. But healing from this will be unpleasant. She’s strong but not inhuman. We know what those men did to her, and when she remembers I don’t know how she’ll respond. We could be looking at another wave of rebellion again like last time.” Claire’s lips pursed.

Agatha sighs and slumps. “I hope for everyone’s sake you’re wrong.”

“Oui. So do I.”

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yourdanganronpaneedshere · 5 years

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How about Rantaro, Shuichi, And Kaito having a love suite dream with their s/o talking about their relationship for the past few years and asking if they want to go further into their relationship?

This anon is tryin to make me loose my innocence… How dare they, if this ask didn’t make my heart feel the way it does I’d be annoyed. This is a bit late because I had a bit of trouble but I tried very hard for this one!

~Mod Himiko

Under the cut for Suggestive Themes and Length!

Shuichi Saihara

The relationship you shared with Saihara was perfectly comfortable as it was, but you couldn’t help and notice that your own lingering stares towards the quiet detective aren’t completely innocent anymore and that satiating yourself with delicate kisses only caused you a craving need

Unfortunately, the situation you couple found yourself trapped in was a less than preferable scene. Shuichi is, however, significantly more at ease with you at his side. That isn’t to say he’d rather you here with him than safe somewhere else because he’d gladly suffer through this quirky game for you, but he can’t help but have soft feelings whenever you were with him

Luckily the robotic bear didn’t seem to inflict any harm and although his constant lingering and shrill voice got bothersome fast, Monokuma never seemed to single the participants off.

One exception of this was when Shuichi practically summoned the sadistic thing the following night after attaining an odd item called the ”Love Key”. Before he knew it, Saihara was pushing open an over-the-top red and pink door to an equally over-the-top heart themed bedroom. After he got over the searing velvet and rose shades in his eyes, he noticed the room was occupied by a seated you on the edge of the centered bed

You’re not even into your proposal, heck, you haven’t even spoken yet your boyfriends face heats up at the sight of you. And even Shuichi seems a bit put off by his own fluster, but he’s still attentive to your every movement and nervous shifting of your eyes. Never a wrong time to do what he’s good at and observe apparently

Saihara decides to give you a soft greeting before joining you on the bed, beckoned by the hand patting the fabric near you

“Sorry for calling you in here so suddenly… but I have something important to talk about…” you start, “It’s about our relationship.”

For a moment his heart leaps in his chest but then he takes a moment to realize that you ideal scenario probably wouldn’t be breaking up with him. Although he may doubt himself, Shuichi is capable enough to realize that you love him just as much as he loves you. Even so, he can’t figure out exactly what it is you’re leading to and doesn’t want to get ahead of himself so he instead gently encourages you to continue

Sahara’s chest does all sorts of flips as he watches you expression turn oh so loving when you describe how well the past few years with him have been. He genuinely smiles at how comforting it feels to be around you but the grin drops slowly when you take on a more serious look and take a deep breath

“ And well…” you gently grasp his hands and gather your bearings. “I was wondering if we could take our relationship to the next level?” You finish by locking your eyes with his, which hardly settles his now pounding heart. Shuichi’s eyebrows shoot up and his wide eyes seemingly beg you to elaborate further, which you do

When you turn over onto him, straddling Saihara (maybe more bold than you usually are but this dream has endless possibilities he guesses), his mind practically blanks yet he still manages to almost immediately draw his hands to your thighs. Even through surprise, Shuichi can’t seem to tear his gaze from yours. A mumble of your names on his lips as you start to lean forward, closing the short space between you

“Can we go all the way together?” you ask, pressed against Shuichi enough that he can hear your soft question reverberate through him. His chin lifts just a little, eye-lashes meeting for a quick moment as a shudder thrums through him

If this is what he’s experiencing because of your want, then this must be what you’ve been thinking of recently, right? Why he’d notice your eyes raking over him more often or why the already affectionate kisses you shared were always filled with more passion…

Shuichi barely holds back a second shiver, now very aware of your warm body against him, every heated breathe you take… He soundlessly wraps his arms around your waist and with a certain spark, finds your eyes one last time.

It’s when he moves in close enough that you foreheads are touching that Shuichi allows himself to answer your question. You find that hitches in his breathing becoming more noticeable when he’s nearly melting against you, pale lips delicately meeting your own

Kaito Momota

The boisterous (but not quite yet an) astronaut takes any chance he can to show his overwhelming love for you! He’s especially fond of wrapping and arm around your shoulders while you lean against him, which gave you many open opportunities to discuss your relationship with him, but you always chickened out at the last moment or just happened to get interrupted by his own confident coos

Such affection didn’t tone down even though you two found yourselves trapped in an odd school with other Ultimate students. Charming nights often were taken up by the two of you in one or the others room, holding each other with dorky smiles on your face, talking about everything and anything to take your minds off the negativity, basking in the company of a loved one

Now, Kaito is a bit thick when it comes to hints, but he had at least had the same kind of thoughts cross his mind a few times, even if he never voiced them

On one night, one where he had one of his less innocent fantasies of you fill his mind, Momota was soon to begin living it out with you

Honestly, he was hesitant to use the Love Key he somehow received. The stars he wishes to float amongst one day must have been perfectly aligned for him to have actually won anything that required any gambling skills

But it’s not like he’d be complaining later

He doesn’t think of turning back when he’s met with the intimidatingly loving door, but he does have some concerns. Of course, they all melt away when he opens it and sees you

“Hey, (S/O)!” He calls, already happy to see you. Almost ready to engulf you in a comfy and familiar hug. Kaito forgot for a moment the rules that came with this dream but after quickly remembering them and his grin became a softer smile and he instead patted your shoulder and took a seat on the bed near as you followed suit. He wasn’t sure how your fantasy was going to play out but he was sure he could handle it, it’s you after all!

Kaito savoured the way your expression brightened up from your previous, more on-edge one. You greeted him too, albeit, softer than the way he had. Momota calls you out on your insecure demeanor, telling you that whatever is on your mind shouldn’t bother you now that he’s here and rubs soothing circles into your back, focused on lifting up your mood

After a bit of you relishing in the gentle attention, Kaito listened to you open up about your few-year relationship, slowing down his movements until he settled for simply leaning closer to you

Sometimes he’ll give nods of acknowledgement or short but spunky agreements at any mentions of the nicer moments you mention. He’s content to listen to you speak your mind and doesn’t worry a bit as to why you’re going over the topic of you both together. That being said, he still isn’t worried when you tell him how you want to experience more with him. Kaito is, however, somewhat taken aback. For a moment, he glances away from your eyes with furrowed brows while he scratches the back of his head.

“Oh, uh… you don’t mean?…” He finally says, bringing his arm back down and questioning you for clarification. Momota wants to know if he’s actually on the right track and not making any hasty assumptions. He doesn’t mean for his response to come out as if he hoping he’s wrong, he really does want the explanation first.

This deters your dream-self though, and he snaps to the reality once more that he’s supposed to be going along with everything you want. In realizing this again, his toothy grin returns much larger than before, optimism really shining through over how your desires in this love-hotel are transferred from your actual desires. He’s really glad that he listened to Monokuma for once

“I mean yeah! If you’re ready, I am too! (S/O) I’m glad that you told me all this because I really am excited, you know?” He’s hardly embarrassed, but the red on his ears presents his readiness to experience it all with you

Just as extra oomph, to show you that he’s telling the truth and nothing but the truth, he leans in close placing his hands on your waist and pulls you in for a passionate kiss where you can feel his every emotion just burning against you

He can’t wait to meet you again in the morning

Rantaro Amami

Rantaro has always been an affectionate lover, never one to shy away from cuddles and kisses as well as always seeming to move at a comfortable pace. Although he made the first-moves in the relationship, it just hadn’t felt like he caught on to your hints about going up another step in your romance

You still found yourself being pressed against his body more often that not in cuddles, his almost teasing eyes smiling at you mysteriously before chasing your lips with his own; much more intimate than your earlier snuggles with Amami, but there was just something even more intimate on your mind.

Unfortunately, with him making the all the moves before you, it was a difficult subject to bring up. Fortunately though, your slumber was apparently a perfect palace of wish fulfillment, despite your lack of knowing so

Rantaro found himself fiddling with the oddly shaped key in his hand, running his fingers over the metal with calloused fingers after the surprise visit from Monokuma, not doubting his curiosity, but instead his motivation. It couldn’t hurt to go, he supposes after moments of quiet contemplation. Idly making his way to the hotel with a cleared and calm mind, his sense of adventure tingling just a bit

He almost sighs at the sight of the door, amused at its complexity and bubbling colours, had one of his younger sisters designed it? It looked like a child’s art project for their puppy crush on Valentine’s Day. But perhaps he’s thinking too hard over a door. Or maybe, in spite of it all, Amami was at least a little bit on edge. Unconsciously refusing to letting that show when he unlocked the door and stepped inside

He immediately smiles at you, kind enough to make your curiously warm face even pinker. Rantaro notices your hands are rubbing together and remembers he’s meant to play a certain role, specific to your supposed ideal situation. And so he breaks the ice with a question

“Hey (S/O), how’re you?” simple enough that it should eventually lead to something about what you want. He’s confident he can conform to your desires with a few hints, you shouldn’t be too different from your conscious self so Rantaro decides that he knows you well enough to understand what’s behind any twitch in your finger or shaky smile

Your answer is simple, “Good,” and he makes his way to your side before you continue, both of you finding yourselves on the bed. “I just wanted to talk if you’re wondering why I asked you to come in here…” you explain.

“Oh? What about? I’m all ears.” He encourages you with another smile, happy that he didn’t have to pry far and risk things getting out of hand or too awkward.

Rantaro doesn’t fake his nods and affirmation when you start conversing with him about your relationship. He intently listens to what you have to say, picking out that this scenario was indeed, referencing the real relationship you shared

By the way you glance at him every so often, obviously nervous and the flushed expression on your face, Amami isn’t worried about where you’re going. If you have an oddball fantasy, he’s okay with that. You don’t seem to be the type for any deal-breakers and he’s naturally relaxed enough that your babbling is just another cute feat to witness to him

Rantaro can tell this is leading to something and his heart is teetering over beating just a little harder than usual, especially when your voice drops to a lower sound and just more than a hush, ah, he truly is enamored with you

“So because we’ve been together for so long… I-I was wondering if…”

When you pause, there’s a short time of quiet and from the corner of your eye, you can see him looking at you with relaxed eyes. He’s unable to help but lean in and cradle you. Wrapping one arm snug around your lower back, and the other cupping your cheek. You feel the warmth of his hand so clearly there, and the scarlet hue dusted on his cheeks confirms his own spark of embarrassment, although Amami has a smoother way of handling it

“If I want to take a sensual step in our relationship?” He finishes for you, words hot against your neck before pecking it, softly brushing his lips against the sensitive skin. Rantaro finds himself adoring your next breath is a shaky one and that you’re prone to curling your hands into the fabric of his shirt. His familiar teasing smile is back on his face, more loving than you’re use to“

I’d love to, of course.” And he’s means it. If this is what you’ve been having in mind, then he’s elated you’re comfortable with him and that this is your ideal situation. Amami thought about it himself but never jumped at the chance to show it. He wanted you to tell him whenever you felt ready, but this was a too perfect way of finding out and he had to take the chance

When you wake up in the morning, he wants you to remember this night, even if it’s only a dream, Rantaro wants you to know that this is something he wants too. As he presses you gently against the bed, there’s no possibility that you couldn’t feel his burning desire for you as well

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mestizo-efp · 7 years

Text

Ten Minutes, Omegaverse

The third chapter! Here it is! Sorry for the delay, I remember that when I wrote this chapter it was the most difficult, it's a little different from the others, what do you think? As alway thank you so much! Love you all

19 Days, Omegaverse AU

Chapter 3

He Tian x Mo GuanShan

In Between

The world is not just white or black, and as far as this concept for someone is pretty obvious, it is one of those things that He Tian had to learn on his own. Contrary to what many may think, it was a very difficult thing to understand, considering that in his family he was raised with relatively simple concepts: if you’re not strong than you’re weak, if you’re not rich you’re poor, you are someone or you are a nobody... you're an Alpha, or you are not.

"But it’s really that simple?"

Asked himself He Tian, as a kid, "It’s possible that everything is simply the opposite of the other? Isn't there a means? A nuance between white and black? "

“What's wrong with that?” answered his brother, the only one who most vaguely approaches the idea of “family”.

"I don't know" said He Tian, looking out of the window with his legs crossed, a serious look on his face, lifeless. "It's just that it sounds so... boring".

He Tian couldn't endure having to live all his adolescence like that and at fourteen years he "run away" from home (he knew they could find him at any time), taking refuge at a relative's home whom work abroad. He had enrolled in the nearest public school, no matter what it was, but the fact that he had chosen it made it a bit more special; He Tian wanted to look at the world with his own eyes. At first things went quite well: his uncle's apartment was located in a good neighborhood, being able to handle his life independently pleased him. He liked walking around the street and seeing people of all kinds, talking to the old lady who worked at the 7 Eleven's, always telling him the story of that grandson who was so good and so committed to Hong Kong University. In the classroom he met a lot of guys like him, noting that after all they weren't so different. The girls loved him and he liked spending time with them, discovering having a natural talent in dealing with gentle sex, probably a feature of being an Alpha. They were always kind, always available and he liked being affectionate, accepting the attentions, never unbalancing too much. In exchange, they greeted him every morning with a smile and dreamy eyes.

Often the idea of taking on of them at home had caressed He Tian's mind. To savor they're soft bodies, sweet lips with the flavor of their lipstick, which sometimes annoyed him because it was too forced, too artificial.

Nevertheless, he never realized the desire: too risky. To show such a luxurious apartment, amongst the tallest skyscrapers in the city, it would have created too much gossip and, by experience, he knew how quickly gossip spreads. He also knew that he would not even have to strive to ask: a look or a caress would suffice, and the girl placid would have follow him; The lack of challenge helped him to give up. He met Jian Yi during the second year; A funny boy always clinging to his best friend, who called the number one, who, when playing together at the basketball court, looked more like a comic duo than anything else, involved in all sort of absurd and embarrassing situations. He liked him, playing with the carefree that any guy or kid in the world can characterize, concealing a slight envy,in the naturalness of their friendship, or anything else that binds them. He didn't know what it was but he could perceived it and in his mind he crave for it, unconsciously. Almost as an introduction to what he really was looking for.

The spell, in fact, didn't last long: it happened one morning, after He Tian had switched off the cellphone alarm. He had risen from the bed and noticed for the first time that despite having lived in that house for almost a year and a half, there were few changes that had taken place since moving. He had never emptied all the boxes with inside his clothes, had not bought furniture, no photos, no books ... even the scent was sterile and tasteless. But it was not an exclusively material situation: nothing ever happened in that place, not even the most banal things like a glass that accidentally fell, breaking into a thousand pieces. Nobody had ever cooked anything, filling the room with the scent of food, no one ever laughed, never quarreled... never cried.

What was that house if not just four walls surrounding him? He Tian soon began to feel like a ghost in a haunted house, empty and forgotten. Where the only thing that accumulated was dust and not memories, as he would have liked. He sometimes smoked just to give it a smell, an identity. School lessons became mute, sincere smiles became circumstantial or "manual" as they defined them in his home and the appearances around him began to blend into one another as blurred photos of indefinite subjects. With horror He Tian realized that slowly and inexorably, all the nuances that he had so sought and craved, were gradually falling apart, to confuse each other by incorporating, creating a sterile and banal world, identical to how he had lived before moving out.

"Maybe" he began to think "I'm the one who's broken"

Until one morning Jian Yi did accidentally collided with a red-haired troublemaker and with a grim look. A lot of things had happened since that day, and He Tian began to see more colors than he had ever seen. GuanShan interested him, reminding him of a crackling fuse ready to fire and explode. Antagonism became curiosity and curiosity became interest, of a kind He Tian didn't know. Messing with him was fun and testing the limits even more,somehow how his hands never stopped moving when he was near. Like an annoying itch that he could not cure if he didn't touch him in some way, that it was his shoulder, hair, or neck. With him he pushed across all the limits he had imposed on the others: he had brought him to his house, had shown his hidden sides: a bit sadistic, a bit violent. Involuntarily showed him a glimpse of his past, getting caught together with his brother.

Interest became attraction. Regardless of his control He Tian couldn't stop thinking about him, he didn't care how, any reason would be good if he could use it to keep him closer.

God only knew how many times he had dreamed of him, in the blankets of his bed, whispering in a low voice, hiding his face between the creases of the pillow. As he was obstinate to suffocate his moans of pleasure. To find out, on that fateful night, that GuanShan was an Omega, it had nothing to do with his feelings, rather it had strengthened them, confirming that he had seen something unique in that boy, different from all the others. If he could, he would have gone to GuanShan's house right now, to bite him strongly on his neck creating a Bond, but it was not a decision that only came to him, he would have come in due time. The only concern was that, overnight, the chances of finding "rivals" were exponentially increased. The Omegas were, as it were, "a delicious commodity", and there were all kinds of crazy around. He knew that being an Omega by GuanShan was an irrelevant fact in itself. That rebellious, stubborn boy had always interested him from the beginning, knowing him to this point had only added nuances to a picture it was slowly taking shape and that he was looking forward to admiring in all his unpredictable beauty.

That morning the apartment smelled of fried vegetables, there were some dirty dishes inside the washbasin and He Tian smiled as he slowly wore the uniform. For three days he hadn't heard a word from GuanShan and he imagined that the boy had locked himself in the house waiting for the heat to pass. He couldn't wait to meet him to enjoy his reaction as a result of what had happened a few nights before. He would have caught him by surprise, perhaps by coming behind him and would have enjoyed his face blushing until it almost burn. He would have invented some excuses and would have forced him to follow him at his home after the lessons; GuanShan's presence was pleasantly cumbersome, which was just perfect.

Then... well what would happen after he didn't know yet, but he couldn't wait to find out. He walked shipped, making the longest lap, the same as GuanShan. In the street, he met some girls in his school, who, with a smile, greeted him in a low voice, shaking her hands frantically. He Tian greeted back, distractedly, looking through the crowd: no trace of GuanShan. Frowning he continued to look around till the gates of entry, where he waited a few minutes before resigning and entering his classroom. At lunch time, He Tian headed for GuanShan's class, walked over to the door, watching inside the classroom, but he didn't find the boy there. He tilted his head, making sure he didn't went to the wrong class.

"Class 3 (7)" he read "It's the right one... where did he go?"

The doubt that GuanShan was avoiding him instantly insinuated into his mind, and the thing annoyed him a lot. Didn't he clarify the question of trust? Somebody whispered and, turning around, He Tian noticed a group of girls gathered on a bench, trying to glanced at him, holding sighs and whisperings. He Tian, smiling, approached them and the girls, like rabbits, squinted at each other.

"Excuse me," he began to speak, with a melodious voice, almost malleable "The class representative would be around here?" "Ah!" exclaimed one of them, standing up and placing her thick glasses "That would be me" He Tian smiled at her, "Aren't I lucky? Can I ask you something?" The girl trembled, suddenly blushing, unable to speak, she just nodded vigorously. "I would need the address of a person in this class." "Y-yes certainly!" she exclaimed "The register is in the teacher's room! I-I can bring it here and-" "Let's go together, to save time, mn?"

As far as possible, the girl blushed even more, twisting an answer He Tian could not interpret. They walked through the corridors, next to each other. The girl, visibly enthusiastic, spun happiness from all over and stared at He Tian with the corner of her eye. The boy was used to those reactions and, slightly bored, looked out of the window - it was a beautiful sunny day. The boys in the basketball court made a lot of noise, and some couples were eating on the benches, exchanging effusions.

"Here we are" He Tian woke up, shifting his attention to the girl, who slowly entered the teacher's room, asking for the student register. She took it to He Tian, flipping the pages beside him. "Who do you need?" He Tian smiled at her, pulled the register out of her hands with delicacy. "It's a secret." He lowered to her level, winking at her. The girl almost fell to the ground. He Tian looked in the student register and nearly laughed at it when he finally saw GuanShan's card: in the picture, the boy had the same old frowned expression, if not more than usual. He read the address by storing it, giving himself a few seconds to look at his picture.

"Ah" suddenly sighed the girl, who, without He Tian noticing it, had gone behind him, peeking at the picture, "Mo GuanShan, such a looser. No one likes him in our class. Did he do something to you? I'm not surprised, he's a good for nothing" He Tian bellowed, closing the register with more force than he wished to use. He stretched it over to the girl, really struggling to smile. "Thank you, class rep" "Y-you're welcome"

That said, he moved away, sinking his hands into his pockets. He didn't care what people thought, he would never care. The gossips and the prejudices did not bother him, they can remain in their dull ignorance; The fact that they didn't know how GuanShan really were was, in fact, a good thing for him. The idea of having the exclusive on some aspects of the boy made him feel part of a special thing that belonged to him alone. A bit like the relationship between Jian Yi and Zheng Xi. But seeing that kind of people made him so angry; it reminded him of his past and painful times that he didn't want to relive. People that allow themself the luxury to divide people into categories, selling humans like slaughter meat. No one has the right, no one. At school there was nothing that could be of interest to him so, before he heard the bell again, he picked up his things and left, making sure nobody noticed. Before reaching GuanShan, he wanted to make sure he was in his house, so he took the phone and sent him a message. No response arrived, he waitied until he was right in front of the apartment's door, but still nothing. He crossed his arms and tilted his head, wondering if it was a good idea to go inside using a window.

"Let's make sure that he is at home" Letting go of the messages, He Tian called GuanShan, listening to the ringing. After a few seconds the answering machine was answering. He Tian smiled, shaking his head "That idiot". He called again one, two, three times and the fourth, finally, GuanShan decided to answer. "STOP CALLING ME!" shouted GuanShan, through the phone "Yoo hoo~ Where are you?" There was a moment of silence, where He Time seemed to hear a deep sighs "It's none of your business." "Are you at home? Can I come to see you? Where do you live?" Once again, GuanShan took a few seconds to answer, he seemed tired "Don't even think about it" He Tian smiled, kicking a pebble and closing his eyes "Mmm... so you're at home" "Son of a..." He Tian could imagine him gritting his teeth as he realized that he had been tricked "If you really think I'll tell you where..."

At that moment an ambulance went through the street, which with the sound of its sirens crossed the road at sustained speed. In his ear, He Tian listened to the echo created because of the siren heard also by GuanShan, of course. There was a moment of silence. "Y-you!" said GuanShan stunned, who at this point seemed to have run a marathon "You are in front of my house, aren't you?" "Umm, who knows?” "FUCK YOU! Go away, now! Who gave you my address? NO! I don't want to know! Get lost!" "Don't be so cold"

Right after that He Tian heard a strange noise from the other side of the phone: a series of thuds and something falling to the ground. "Hey?" called He Tian, but all he heard was GuanShan's breath in the distance, as if the phone was set a few steps further " What's going on?"

GuanShan began to cough, struggling to breathe between a cough and the other "G-go away" managed to grumble the boy before starting to breathing hard. Without closing the call, He Tian lowered the door's handle, obviously locked.

"Mo GuanShan!" called He Tian, shouting "What's happening?!" but the call was interrupted. Going into panic and without thinking twice, He Tian broke through the door using his shoulder, finding himself in a small apartment. The lights were off and the curtains pulled. A smell, unmistakable, struck him immediately to his nose, making him almost lose his head: GuanShan's smell. It was intense, penetrating, enveloping him like a soft blanket. He shook his head, trying to keep control. Pulling his shirt's collar, he covered his nose and mouth trying to breathe as little as possible. It wasn't possible that GuanShan's heat lasted for so many days, and he wouldn't have to release such intense pheromones.

He didn't know the house, but following the trail he immediately realized what GuanShan's room was supposed to be; running he crossed the threshold entering the first door to the left. Sitting on the floor, he found GuanShan, crouched with his legs close to his chest. He was wrapped in a blanket and wore nothing but his boxers. His breath was accelerated and he was sweating. He Tian came closer to him, kneeling in front of him.

"He's alive" he thought, pulling a huge sigh of relief; He Tian had NEVER, throughout his life, felt this scared. His hands had frozen and he felt as if he was holding his breath. He shook his head, bringing his attention back to the boy. He gently touched his shoulder and almost scared to fell him burning like fire. Grasping GuanShan's chin, he raised his face, placing the index and the middle finger close to his Adam's apple. The heartbeats were accelerated to the limits, GuanShan's face was a scarlet red, his lips cut and cracked.

He Tian gave him light slaps, to try to get him back. "Hey hey " he said, lowering his face to the height of his eyes and putting the weight on his fingertips, slanting " What's the matter with you this time? What did you do?" Slowly and with great effort, GuanShan opened his eyes, raising them to He Tian's: they were flush, slightly damp and with dilated pupils. He Tian felt the desire to jump on him, and he would do it if he didn't bite his tongue. He shook his head, holding his hands over his shoulders.

"What's happening to you? The fever? Did you eat something strange?" GuanShan shook his head, snorting and resting his forehead on his kneels. He seemed completely lost in the heat and clearly struggled to understand what was happening around him. He put his hands in his hair, touching his neck. "I'm...my head hurts" he muttered, between one breath and the other.

"He's not being himself" thought He Tian looking around, looking for any sign that could explain the situation; he saw something on the desk: an orange box of some kind of medicine. Doubtful, he looked at GuanShan before getting up and grabbing the pack. "Heat Increaser" he whispered by reading the big red font in relief. But... it made no sense. That medicine had the function of increasing pheromone levels to ensure a longer lasting and intense heat. He Tian widened his eyes, turning to GuanShan

"Hey! How is your English? You didn't thought this would make it go away faster, didn't you?"

GuanShan, now completely lost in his world, answered with incomprehensible laments, shaking his knees and slamming them against each other. He Tian shook his head, approaching the boy again. "Hey," he whispered, pocking GuanShan's forehead with the index "Look at me" Grunting, GuanShan glanced up at the orange box that He Tian was pointing at. "Have you take this? Did you eat it?"

Lowering his eyes, GuanShan nodded, taking a somewhat embarrassed expression. He was getting worse more and more each passing minute. Opening the package it revealed that it lacked three pills and considering that they were very powerful medicines, it was not surprising if he was reduced worse than a drunk in the middle of a hangover.

He Tian chuckled, lowering his head and passing his hand over his neck. With his left hand he clutched GuanShan's cheeks, tasting their softness and making him grimace. He smiled at that funny expression.

"Sometimes I don't understand if you're stupid or just very unlucky. Never try to worry me again"

GuanShan looked into his eyes with a strange, almost dreamy look. There was a strange silence, and He Tian had the impression that time slowed down, he looked at GuanShan's lips, so close and at his complete disposition. He approached slowly, when suddenly GuanShan coughed, complaining. He Tian looked away, letting go of his face.

"It's not worth to tease him when he is like this" he thought, desperately trying to convince himself.

“C’mon, get up and go to bed” GuanShan shook his head, pouting "Too hot" "Always better than the floor" lowering himself, He Tian pulled him up, placing his arms under GuanShan's armpits "Get up!".

He Tian tried to put him on the mattress, GuanShan surrounded his neck with his arms, holding his lips on his neck’s hollow and touching his skin with the tip of his nose. "You have a nice smell" whispered GuanShan, on his shoulder. He Tian sweats cold, giggling nervously "Yeah... everyone tells me, but let me go now"

Silently, GuanShan obeyed, dropping on the soft pillow. He Tian sat next to him, wiping sweat from GuanShan's chin with the back of his hand. He quickly read the medicine leaflet, noticing that there was not much he could do other than waiting for the medicine ro run out its effects, which would take a few hours at least. Even after checking on the internet, the most common tips were just to rest... or just have frequent rapports to relieve stress and tension. He didn't know how much painful or annoying could be for an Omega to withstand the effects and excitement for such an intense heat, but even if he wanted to help him he couldn't relieve him of pain without taking advantage of the situation. Suddenly something struck him to the side, with the corner of his eye he saw GuanShan's knee, gently resting on his back. He Tian glanced up at GuanShan. He turned sideways and exposed the skin of his neck, wet with sweat; GuanShan watched He Tian as a thirsty can look at a spring of water in the middle of a desert. He Tian watched him swallowing and staring at him with ever-more languid and hungry eyes. Quickly, the young man put his hand on his eyes, grinning.

“Don’t look at me like that”

GuanShan seemed surprised and, slowly, shifted his face by placing his cheek on He Tian's palm, mumbling pleasantly. "Cold" he whispered, closing his eyes and bending his face until he placed his lips between the little finger and the ring finger. He Tian bited his lips, leaning forward and kissing GuanShan's temple.

“You’re dangerous, redhead” It was almost funny to watch GuanShan shivering and the goose skin that stretched from his neck to his back.

“Mng” sighed GuanShan, exposing his neck even more, narrowing his eyes and breathing heavily.

He Tian, with the tip of his fingers, caressed his nape, shifting his hair that, wet with sweat, had stuck to the base of his neck. He noticed, distinctly, a swelling right at that point, like a walnut under the soft skin. It ought to be the exact point where, by biting it, the Bond would have been created. Medicines and heat should have stimulated it a lot to make it so swollen. He Tian swallowed and, before he could notice, his tongue was already tasting its shape and taste. He kissed it slowly before licking it again and again, breathing heavily with his nose and pushing himself on him.

Ahhh, if only he could have bited him, just a little bit... GuanShan would become forever his. He could have enjoyed his warmt and the softness at that moment, on that bed, possessing him with a grin, making him cry out to tears. Spreading his legs he would slip inside him... taking his body in every inch, scratching his skin and masturnating him at the same time, and then…

He Tian opened his eyes, jerking and moving away from GuanShan. That was close. The red, with his mind still dim, complained of the sudden separation, stretching his hands in search of the heat that had been torn away. He Tian rubbed his hand over his eyes, swallowing. Somehow the room felt warmer.

“Stay here” said He Tian, getting up “You need to drink something”

In closing room's door He Tian heard GuanShan complaining, but couldn't risk to look at him in the eyes. He rested his head on the door, clenching his teeth. It was difficult, too difficult to control himself in that kind of situation. He glanced at the front door, and the idea of leaving seemed to be the most logical solution, but the thought of leaving GuanShan alone in those conditions made him think twice, that idiot would be able to leave home even reduced to that state ... no, he couldn't leave. He had never taken care of anyone until then, and he wasn't sure how to behave... but in the end GuanShan was not exactly "sick".

"Yeah" he thought "It's just something a lot worse!" It would have been better if he had a fever or... anything else. At that moment, where only watching him made him crazy of desire, there wasn't much he could do. He snapped, scratching his neck.

"One thing at a time" he said, going to what looked like the kitchen. He loved that apartment: intimate, full of things, with so many smell and objects that he was not used to seeing. On the fridge there were attached some post it, with ingredients to buy or appointments, some written by GuanShan and others by someone who he assumed to be the mother. He smiled at each of them, wondering how they would look like his fridge.

How would it be to live in a real home, noisy with people who love you and that they welcome you with a smile no matter what. Where you fight together, eat together, laughs together... live together. When he came home a few days ago and saw GuanShan sleeping on the floor, it seemed like a dream, he wanted to keep him there forever. The house suddenly seemed smaller and incredibly crowded; He had looked at him sleeping for a long time, imagining how it would be to wake up every morning with that grumpy face beside him, on the bed. His eyebrows frowned, his hair messed up, his fists closed, and his thin lips half open. Every day there would always be something new, unpredictable and fun.

He smiled, opening the fridge and finding a fresh water bottle. He pulled it up and took a sip. Living with GuanShan had to be the most amazing thing in the world besides the fact that he could, of course, have him on his bed at any hour.

"And with GuanShan as an Omega, who knows one day ... you could see other redheads hanging around the house."

He spit all the water like a fountain at that thought, coughing and risking choking. GuanShan's smell was really giving him some problem in his head.

"I'm such an idiot" he though taking the bottle behind with him to give it to GuanShan. He took a long breath before lowering the handle.

GuanShan, was laying flat on bed with his arms wide open, looking like a starfish on a rock. As far as possible he was even more red and the redness was not just on the face, but stretched on the shoulders and neck. He was breathing havy, it looked like ge was suffering a lot. He as helding his left hand on his forehead, clasping and pulling his hair. His eyes were closed, his eyebrows frowned, and his smell was slightly different, sweet and pungent at the same time. He Tian had to work out the scene for a few seconds before realizing that it was not the beginning of one of his many dreams.

GuanShan opened his eyes and, with a lament, turned to one side, his movements were slow and seemed to give him fatigue and pain. He Tian approached him, sitting at his side and holding his hand over his face, wiping sweaty drops from his forehead and temples. He was trembling, but not with cold, it was as if he had been on edge. He passed his thumb over his lower lip, crawled with so many small cuts, from which tiny drops of scarlet blood flowed slowly. He Tian tugged the bottle on his shoulder to catch his attention. GuanShan jumped, slowly opening his eyes and looking at him from the below.

"Drink" said He Tian, leaning the bottle one inch from GuanShan’s nose.

GuanShan coughed, rolling over and leanign on his forearms to try to get up.

"Ugh" he complained as he slowly leaned his back to the wall, slamming his head.

He Tian had the impression that GuanShan had recovered slightly, so he hand him the bottle. GuanShan watched it for a long, silent minute before grasping it with a trembling hand. He tried to unplug it, but his fingers slipped without being able to catch the cap, GuanShan squeezed his eyes, staring at the bottle as if it were a complex puzzle. He Tian almost seemed to see the question marks floating around his head, just like the comics. "Pff" grinned He Tian, holding a laugh and resting his face on his right hand. As absurd as that, he found that he didn't want to be anywhere else except there, with GuanShan, who was reduced to a sort of drunken monkey, who was now trying to unscrew a bottle of water with his teeth. He stretched out his hand, grabbing him by his neck and approaching him, kissing him slowly on his lips. GuanShan didn't react, no hysterical cry, no word, no fist struck in the wind. Just a puff, before bringing his attention back on the bottle. He Tian closed his eyes, slamming his forehead over the redhead's forehead.

"That hurt, fuck" he whined, dropping the bottle. "Hey!" shouted He Tian, looking at him straight in the eyes "Get well soon, you hear me? I don't like this new way of doing it at all, pull yourself together, stupid!"

GuanShan clench his lips, wrinking his nose and frowning. He Tian smiled, nodding satisfied.

“That’s better”

He picked up the bottle and took a big sip, grabbing GuanShan by his chin and kissing him again, more forcefully. He Tian's cool tongue and GuanShan's boiling tongue created a pleasant contrast, blending them together as one. GuanShan clung to him, finding relief in that contact that contrasted with his high temperature. He slid forward, placing his hands on He Tian's knees, closing his eyes and grumbling. GuanShan teased He Tian's lips, inviting him to open them more, so that he could get lost in their freshness as the best of the medicines. He Tian stiffened as he sensed a new change in the smell of GuanShan, who had soared even more, burning his throat like sugar syrup.

Even after the cool feeling had disappeared from He Tian's mouth, GuanShan didn't stop to kiss him, hungry he lost himself completely, taking his hair and tightening them tightly. He Tian thanked and cursed God, at the same time, for the resistance and self-control he was able to demonstrate when, with a slight push, moved GuanShan away.

The redhead protested, leaning forward to reach He Tian's lips again, but He Tian, patting him on his waist, began to tickle him, throwing him on the bed and hitting his head with a pillow.

“Why?” asked GuanShan, his head under the pillow. He Tian closed his eyes, resting his forehead on the pillow, gently pressing GuanShan's face against the mattress.

“Because…”

Because that guy who was in front of him wasn't the usual GuanShan; who screamed at him, blushing as he stretched out his hands touching him, who mumbled when he received spontaneous help, spitting poison on his gentleness, and soon after he looked down, unable to say thanks. Because at that moment that guy was somewhere else, where He Tian couldn't reach him, and all those moments and sensations, he wanted to share them with that GuanShan. Because he knew that once the effects of pills had ended, of that day nothing would remain in GuanShan's memory and He Tian couldn't afford to waste too many precious moments.

To find out the other thousand expressions that could trigger him, day after day, one step at a time, to reset that centimeter in the middle, in between them.

Because between white and black ... there are a multitude of incredible possibilities.

“... it's too boring”.

He Tian had to wait two hours before GuanShan decided to go to sleep and another four before his smell flushed to an acceptable level. He covered him with a sheet, threw the drugs into the rubbish and went back home, giving him a slight kiss on his naked back. The next morning, He Tian's apartment smelled of sugar syrup, there were a couple of posts it attached to the fridge, and instead of the alarm clock, there was a message ringing his cellphone: "WHAT DID YOU DO TO MY DOOR?!" He Tian smiled, pleased, before closing the door behind him.

read it on AO3

#19 days #he tian #mo guanshan #mo guan shan #tianshan #he tian x mo guan shan #old xian #fanfiction #fanfic #omegaverse #chapter 3 #done #sorry for the wait #text

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