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[helpyourselfwithcherrywine]

Love That Bites Pt. 11

Hi! Here's part 11 to my Dracula x Reader series! I apologize for the huge delay, I've had a lot going on IRL, so I haven't has as much time/energy to write as I would have liked. Still, I hope you enjoy! I hope to have more happen in the next chapter as well, hopefully some action! Summary: Dracula finally manages to get things running somewhat smoothly, only to run into a snag when it comes to the potions he's had made for you. Thankfully, it isn't as big of a setback as it could be, so long as he can see you beginning to heal. During all of it, he begins to recognize some old feelings...

CW: Injury mention, death mention, brief description of injury, thoughts of murder,

Word Count: 6244 Words!

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Tag List: @pumpkinvampie, @bethleeham, @mshope16, @sixsixtwenty, @haleypearce, @rvautomatic, @tinystarfishgalaxy, @marshmelloe, @maorizon, @ursamajor17, @sapphicsfordracula, @dame-sunflowers, @sleepyendymion, @starrlo0ver, @onewiththebeanbag First: Here! Last: Here! Next: ? - - -

Dracula was beginning to wonder just how you had managed to survive so long on your own.

He wasn’t doubting your skills. In fact, Dracula could tell from a glance you were a powerful fighter, much like your ancestors had been. He wouldn’t be surprised if you were one of the strongest Belmonts yet.

No, he was concerned over how you seemed lacking when it came to taking care of yourself.

Sure, you had bandaged yourself on the way to his castle, and he was thankful you seemed to have some sort of survival instinct.

But he noticed you didn’t put in too much effort though in your own health overall.

It wasn’t just from how you came to his castle recently, but something he had noticed long before he had been freed.

After the first few times he saw you, it was clear to him. You would briefly mention your headaches, and your homelife, how you just ‘dealt’ with it.

You had mentioned to him in a joke how even though you had been sick at one point, you just pushed through it while sleeping in your car for a week.

He couldn’t ask you at the time why you did such things, being trapped in stone. Now, he felt it would be counterproductive to ask you. Not until you were comfortable around him.

But it was a horrifying thing you mentioned offhandedly while eating a sandwich, and you refused to elaborate. Why would you put yourself through that?

Add that to his mental list of reasons why he had to investigate your home life. If anything, that was blatantly unhealthy. How the hell was your immune system putting up such a fight on its own if that was how you handled being sick at your home?

How did you handle most injuries before you met him? A part of him really did not wish to find out, but he couldn’t help but feel the desire to know.

Dracula was at least thankful you mentioned a small cabin once. After you had mentioned it while he was stone, you realized what you had said, and were quick to try and change the subject. You had not meant to tell him about it, it seemed.

But he was thankful at least that you had a small place nearby to rest.

At one point throughout the day as he checked in on you, he briefly considered going to see this cabin, or sending a scout to see where it was. However, he dismissed this idea almost as soon as he had thought it.

You’d no doubt be upset if you found out he had done so, and he would be willing to bet you had traps all over the land leading up to your small sanctuary away from your home.

It was only logical to assume so. You had found his castle nearby your own property.

Something he didn’t fail to see irony in. Of course his castle would choose a place nearby a Belmont’s property.

Still, if it had been him in your situation, he would have placed traps on top of traps once finding out such a thing. Sending an underling was just asking for it to either be captured, destroyed, or injured. Or for such information to spread to less enthusiastic minions who were disgruntled about your stay here.

No doubt when you inevitably left, you would check the traps, or at least notice one out of place, if not finding a dead monster's remains on your land. Dracula couldn’t afford to have you lose trust in him just because he was curious.

Yes… Dracula would wait, and put his patience to the test. He’d try to get you to open up to him, and show him yourself.

You already were showing you didn’t detest him, something that was bringing an old warmth to his cold heart.

He’d even wager you opened up to him just a little earlier, when you had mentioned your injuries had been from something personal.

Sure, it wasn’t a large amount of information, but it was progress.

Now, he just had to keep this progress going forward, something Dracula knew was not going to be smooth sailing as he had hoped. There was already unrest in the castle, he could just feel it.

No one had said anything to him, but Dracula was more in tune with his castle and its magic than people gave him credit for. Every being here had energy that was woven with the castle’s in some way shape or form.

And people were anxious.

Some were restless, some were afraid. Many were irritated.

A Belmont being treated as a guest? He knew it would only be a matter of time before someone or something acted out.

Dracula just hoped it wouldn’t be at your expense. He could clean any other mess as need be, but he wouldn’t stand you being injured further.

Alas, he couldn’t act unless someone else acted out first, or he could see they were planning something that involved you. Dracula, loathe as he may to admit it, would only cause more unrest by acting too hastily.

That was fine though, he could bide his time.

The only thing that had him on edge was your current injuries. Or rather, he didn’t want you fighting with your injuries and making them worse, especially after your healing has been progressing nicely.

Speaking of which, You were healing incredibly quickly. If it wasn’t for your lineage, he would have guessed you had some sort of distant supernatural blood in your veins, such as vampirism.

Still, even though you were healing at an impressive rate, it still wasn’t enough. Your injuries by all means could have killed you, and they were still deep and fresh.

His fingers tapped on the wood of his desk in his study, concern no doubt etched clear on his features.

Those potions should be finished today, or at least the first batch of them. The stronger type usually required a longer amount of time to simmer for better healing effects. Time though, was not something he could afford, so a batch of the regular sort would have to do.

Of course, he’d have to thoroughly check them himself after his alchemists were finished. He had not explained who the potions were for when he had ordered it to be done, but now, there was no doubt in his mind the ones creating the potions knew it was for a hunter.

Unfortunately, he couldn’t even trust most of his underlings with this. Even his more trusted ones, he was going to be forced to keep an eye on.

The chances of his alchemists messing with your potions were low, but not impossible. Thankfully, he knew potions very well after studying them centuries ago. Dracula was confident he could catch any ‘unneeded’ ingredients that might slip in the finished batch.

However, he hated that he would have to check.

“How bothersome…” he mumbled as he pressed his face into the palm of one of his hands.

Looking for poison itself wasn’t the issue, it’s something he’ll gladly do. It was the fact this would mean it would take longer to get the potions to you that irritated him.

If the potions were tampered with, like he worried they might be, he’d probably have to make them himself. Something he would also do without pause, but again, he didn’t wish for you to stay injured any longer than necessary.

Dracula rubbed his eyes for a moment, wondering how he had grown so protective of you like a mother hen.

The last time he could remember fretting over someone, was whenever his late wife had gotten sick, or when his son fell ill once or twice.

Back before everything fell apart.

He sighed, feeling another migraine coming on. It wouldn’t do well to think of that now. The less distractions, the better.

At least one good thing came from this. You were receptive to him checking in on you. Dracula doubted you would trust any of his underlings to do it, or at least any of them bringing you meals.

Not without him there to supervise, it seemed.

It was small, but that amount of trust you had in him was a lot for the circumstances.

Dracula felt another sigh escape his lips, and he ignored the temptation to lay his head on his desk like a daydreaming school boy.

What were you doing to him? Had the Great Dracula really fallen for a Belmont?

His eyes widened slightly at his own thoughts.

Fallen? No. Though he detested the idea of admitting he had a schoolboy crush.

He could at least admit he felt fonder for you than some human teenager just figuring themselves out, thank you very much.

Deep down however, thinking about this unsettled him.

Dracula cared for you. He could admit that in his head whole heartedly. Somehow, the Little Belmont had wormed their way into his cold, dead heart without even trying.

But he feared to think about what that meant for him. His life. His future. Your future.

The trust between you two was rocky, but it was there. Could he really push to have you trust him more? Was that really a future he could hope for? Try for? To even care about?

Was it even worth it?

Dracula ran a hand through his hair, and debated summoning another glass of blood to sooth the migraine he could already feel forming in his temples.

Himself and your family had been doomed to fight for centuries. Would even trying to open up the possibilities of at least a friendship be very wise?

Looking from the outside, it seemed like something doomed to fail.

So why did he want to try?

His fingers began to thrum idly on the desk again.

The answer was still the same as before. It was you.

You were different. Different from most Belmonts.

Was wanting to bet on that difference really worth the possible pain? Heartbreak? Potential agony?

Vlad’s eyes drifted over to a portrait that hung in his private study. One depicting his precious Lisa.

Lisa had been worth it, even if his time with her had been so cruelly cut short. He knew her time with her would have been limited, as she had wanted to stay human. It was one of the things that had made her so precious.

One of the few things he regretted was not being there for her when she needed him most. Probably one of his biggest regrets, alongside not being next to Elisabetha when she passed back when he had been human.

So perhaps… This too, would be worth it.

He could not deny that this was a golden opportunity. If, by small chance, he could change fate…

Perhaps he would not have to suffer being killed once more, and this damned cycle between him and your family could finally break.

Dracula was no fool. He was sure this cycle affected your family just as much as it did him. Ever since Leon, almost every Belmont has had to learn to fight creatures of the night. Either to be a hunter, or to avoid simply being the prey.

No doubt not every Belmont liked this, and judging from the small glimpses of your home life he has seen, the Belmont clan seems to have fallen into disrepair.

There was a darkness in your eyes when you spoke about your home, one that had him worrying all over again.

That was something else he was going to have to focus on. Your life at home.

Given that your clan was full of vampire hunters, even if he did by chance get your home’s location, he doubted himself or any of his underlings would be able to get too close. Surveillance wouldn’t be an easy option, or most likely would not be an option at all.

Unless, of course, your family’s home and protections have also deteriorated. Perhaps getting close to the home wouldn’t be as big of an issue.

But alas, he wouldn’t risk most of his underlings finding your home like that. He has a few he trusts, sure, but he couldn’t in good faith let most of them know where you lived.

All it would take is one slip up, and your home would no doubt be swarmed. Even if it wasn’t monsters from his circles, it wouldn’t take much from other groups to learn and decide to exterminate you en masse.

Even if no one could penetrate your home’s defenses, it wouldn’t be hard to stage an ambush to have you assassinated the moment you left your property. Or anyone else that lived with you.

Dracula’s eyes narrowed at that thought. Oh, how that was tempting, just to see those who may have hurt you torn to shreds.

But he had to wait. He’d have vengeance for you one way or another.

Before he could contemplate who he had to murder, he heard a brisk knock at his door. Crimson eyes narrowed, and with his mask slipping back into place, he sat back in his chair.

“Enter.”

Large doors to his study creaked open, and one of the alchemists he had working on your potions stepped into the room. A young man who had answered the Castle’s magical call for power and safety.

The young man before him tried not to tremble under his gaze, barely making eye contact before looking at a different part of the room. Dracula had to hold back an annoyed sigh.

A shame those who could create potions were few and far between, leaving him with such a sniveling fool. At least he could get the job done, along with the few others he had working under him.

“Is the task I set for you and the others finished?” he asked, thrumming his fingers against the desk once again, a bored look on his face.

Swallowing nervously, the alchemist nodded, before remembering he needed to speak.

“Y-Yes, milord. The first batch of potions has finished, but…”

Dracula raised an eyebrow. He was already nearing the end of his patience.

“But?”

The young man flinched, and the vampire tried not to roll his eyes.

“I’m afraid, ah… this batch won’t be that potent, due t-to us having to rush…”

As if Dracula didn’t already anticipate that.

No matter though. What was important was getting you something to fend back the majority of your injuries. Even if it is just enough to help you fight infection and mend a few patches of skin, it was better than nothing.

“I’m aware of the effect of making potions on such short notice. Is that everything?”

For a split second, the alchemist’s heartbeat spiked, and he avoided looking at the Vampire Lord. Dracula forced his face to remain neutral.

How curious.

“That’s everything, sir.”

Almost immediately, the shadows in the room crawled forward, and the temperature dropped a noticeable amount.

Dracula stood up from his chair to his full height, and leaned over his desk. His claws dug into the wood, and his eyes grew black and red.

“Tell me, Alchemist, why are you lying to me?”

A squeak left the young man’s lips, and he physically shrunk in on himself. No one wanted to be on Dracula’s bad side.

“I don’t tolerate liars in my court.”

The Alchemist fell backwards onto the floor in a scramble, and shuffled backwards a few feet. The door magically shut behind him, and he looked as if he were to faint.

Dracula felt the air grow heavy around him, and the pathetic man in front of him began to pant and shake.

“Now, what is it you are hiding from me?”

The threat was clear as day. Should the young man in front of him lie, or do something foolish, he would not live to see tomorrow.

Swallowing thickly, the Alchemist shakily stood to his feet.

“I… As I was finishing up my batch of potions, I overheard a few of the witches talking.”

Dracula had the tension in the air lesson to a degree. The boy in front of him was willing to speak, so he may as well not make it too difficult, lest the coward faint.

Though he made sure his displeasure was apparent.

“Go on.” Eyes darted between him and other parts of the room, the Alchemist shrunk in on himself further before speaking.

“I… I overheard them talking about how they think the hunter has bewitched you. That the hunter is going to kill you, and everyone involved.”

Dracula wanted to scoff. Just mild gossip. He wasn’t surprised it was already making the rounds, though he’d have to keep an eye on it lest it fester into something unmanageable without conflict.

Rumors and resentment building would only cause unrest, and the less he had to deal with, the better.

“And just who were the witches who were discussing this?” The man swallowed. “I don’t know.” “So you didn’t think to get a look on who it might be?” He shook his head, fingers twitching idly.

“No sir. But…”

Dracula could feel the throbbing in his temples. Perhaps he should summon some wine…

“...The witches talked about wanting to do something before it was too late.”

Now that caught Dracula’s attention.

“They what?!”

The Alchemist winced, though straightened up a little now that Dracula’s ire wasn’t entirely directed at him.

“I-I have no evidence, nor was I able to follow them, but- I think some of them might be planning something, sir.”

The room’s temperature dropped further, and at the moment, the Alchemist felt like his soul left his body.

Dracula was well known for his fury.

How his anger was icy, yet his fury ran hot.

“Planning something?”

His voice was low, in a way that was like a growl. Like a predator readying to bite down on the neck of its prey. It was inviting, yet it had the survival instincts of anything around him screaming to run.

The wind picked up around the castle, and lightning began to strike across the clouded sky. The flashes of light only seemed to emphasize the anger on his face.

Briefly, The King of the Night hoped you weren’t bothered by the pick up of the storm. Surely you’d notice the change in atmosphere…

But that was something he could check in with you later.

“And do you happen to know just what they might be planning? Or which ones it even was?”

Dracula’s mind was beginning to work overtime. Which witches lingered near the Alchemy lab? He's going to have to do a sweep it seemed, and soon. At least Castlevania would give him some insight should he ask for it.

If some of his underlings were already conspiring against him…

The boy in front of him was eerily silent, and Dracula held back from snapping. Killing the fool wouldn’t solve any of his issues, especially as he needed him for now.

Then, a thought suddenly hit Dracula, and he sat back into his seat, his claws growing sharper.

“Boy, where is the finished batch of potions?”

The Alchemist froze for a moment, taken aback by the sudden question.

“Um… In the labs?”

Dracula’s eyes sharpened, almost glowing red.

“And is there anyone or anything protecting the finished batch of potions in the labs?”

“Ah…”

Running a hand across his face, Dracula fought the urge to kill something.

He was going to need that drink before visiting you.

—

Much to Dracula’s disappointment (and hidden fury), it was just as he had expected.

He had decided to check on the batch of the potion himself after that conversation, just to be sure it hadn’t been tampered with.

It was something he was already going to do, but now it was incredibly important to do so after hearing what the Alchemist had to say.

Just as he had feared, the main batch that had been left out had indeed been soiled.

The potion itself was a darker blue than it should have been, a first tell that something wasn’t quite right. Then there was the smell.

Potions already smelled a bit bland, with a hint of bitterness to them. However, he was able to catch the scent of something almost sour.

The texture itself was also a bit… thick. Closer to a cream rather than the liquid form it was supposed to have.

Dracula felt his brow twitch with thinly veiled disdain.

With a sigh, and barely hidden rage, he ended up banishing the whole batch. No point in taste testing when he could already smell the signs of tampering. The only thing he would be able to get out of a test would be what ingredients specifically had been added, but there was no point. Not when he already knew the results.

It seems he would have to keep a closer eye on things than he thought.

Even if the alchemists and potioneers he had working on this were as trustworthy as they could get, it seemed that there was only so much he could do before the rats began to poke their noses where they didn't belong.

As much as he hated to section off parts of the lab, it seems he would have to until you were healed, or he found all the idiots involved who dared try and pull a fast one on him.

Thankfully however, not everything was lost.

Dracula was thankful that moment for employing several alchemists to the lab for different batches of potions. He could just take from those, since they would have a similar effect.

The other alchemists were to keep working on different batches of potions, so he could have stronger ones brewing while the first batch was finished. This meant there would be less powerful ones, sure, but he would simply have more made.

What mattered was getting this first batch to you.

You may be healing relatively quickly and well, but he was quickly growing to dislike seeing you injured.

The shadows under your eyes, and how sunken in your face looked, added to your winces of pain… He hoped that he could help with that by taking care of your wounds.

It would be a long journey, he was sure. No doubt it would take more than just healing your injuries to actually have you looked… alive.

That was what had his cold, undead heart beating worriedly in his chest.

You didn’t look like you were living.

Sure, your blood pumped, your heart still beats, but you didn’t have a happy light in your eyes. Dracula could mistake you for one of his minions with how those eyes alone looked.

He was thankful though, seeing a spark in them. It was subtle, and only showed up on occasion.

However, he found himself yearning to protect it.

Ha. Him. Lord of the Night. King of all Vampires, wanting to protect his own supposed enemy. Even more so, with such… feelings developing.

Dracula still wasn’t sure whether to find it amusing, or pitiful.

The beast in his mind that he had embraced so long ago surprisingly didn’t fight him on it. At first, it had called him pathetic the first time he found himself wanting to help you.

But that same beast had quickly done a 180, quickly growing to respect you much like his logical side had.

And oh, how it had quickly grown protective.

Dracula felt his lips almost twitch upward at the thought, feeling the very same protectiveness stir in his soul as he approached your door.

He gave a brisk knock at the door, casting a brief glance to the living armors he had stationed near your room. Stone still as always.

After a brief moment, he heard your voice, telling him to come in.

Carefully he opened the door, and it was as if a weight was lifted off his chest just seeing you. The way you subtly perked up when seeing him, sitting up in your bed…

He tried not to let his pride get to him, how it was him that you were sitting up for.

‘One step at a time, Vlad.’

The scent of your blood though soon quickly caught his nose, and he felt himself stand straighter as he walked quickly to your side.

“Your injuries… did one re-open?” He was quick to ask, internally scolding himself when he felt the urge to have a taste.

For a Belmont, your blood was still such an intoxicating scent…

Sheepishly, you looked away from him after he arrived at your side.

“Ah… I fell on the way to the restroom. I accidentally pulled some stitches open, but I got the wound under control.”

If he had been a human, he would have sworn you were trying to give him a heart attack at this rate. How was it you were such a trouble magnet?

Gently, he leaned over you, his hands hovering over where your shirt was. Underneath, he could already smell the irritated wound and fresh blood.

His eyes met your own.

“May I?” He asked, desiring to see how bad it had gotten. His voice was soft and tender, not wishing to push you or make you uncomfortable.

You froze for a moment, and a glimmer of emotion passed in your eyes. However, it left as quick as it came, and you carefully pulled your arms up to give him access.

Even now, Dracula was still incredibly impressed with the trust you were giving him. If this had been any of your ancestors, or any hunter, really, he would no doubt be in a fight.

Gently, his cool hands brushed against your warm skin as he lifted your shirt upwards to see the bandaged wound. He pointedly ignored the shiver you have, no doubt his cold hands most likely the cause.

At least, that’s what he told himself, also ignoring how you tensed slightly. Or how he heard your pulse pick up as he got closer.

It was not the time to let his mind wander and theorize.

Dracula would give you credit, though. Your pain tolerance wasn’t anything to scoff at, and you were taking everything in stride, even now.

He removed the bandages with a gentle ease, and immediately internally stomped down the sudden hunger he felt.

The fresh scent of your blood still somehow managed to drive him crazy, even when he wasn’t starving.

To think he’d find a Belmont’s blood so appealing?

It took a bit of his will power to calm himself, before continuing to look at the wound. Pursing his lips, he let out a hum.

His hands held your midsection still as he observed the new damage, ignoring your sharp intake of air.

“Apologies…” He mumbled, knowing full and well his hands were most likely even colder the closer they were to your feverish flesh.

“No worries…” You breathed, your voice small. His eyes flickered up to your face, and your own were wide as you watched him. Still vigilant, even now. Cute.

Eyes back on your wound, he felt a bit of relief. Thankfully you hadn’t torn open as many stitches as he had feared, and you had cleaned the wound up well.

It seems getting rest and meals was helping you both physically, and mentally. You weren’t hanging on a thread, wrapping wounds with little regard to your life now.

Really, he shouldn’t be surprised. Even if he was worried about how you thought of yourself and your health in general, you of all people would know how to properly wrap a wound when in good conditions to do so.

After a moment, he pressed the bandages back onto your injury, and stepped back.

“Despite several stitches being pulled, it could have been worse.”

You pull your shirt down, and smile sheepishly.

“That’s good. It didn’t look too bad, but I’m glad you agree.” You spoke, rubbing the back of your neck a bit nervously.

It seemed you were still on edge, though he didn’t mind too much.

He looked you over for a moment as you fixed your shirt. You really were looking better than when you first arrived. Even from when he saw you this morning, you seemed to be improving.

At least, he was definitely thankful you no longer looked like you were dead on your feet.

Clearing his throat for a moment, he nearly smirked at how you almost jumped. Most would have missed how your muscles tensed, though he decided to count the fact he wasn’t outright scaring you a plus.

“I have something for you.”

Immediately your interest was piqued.

How you subtly leaned towards him and tilted your head, you were curious.

“You do?”

He stepped back for a moment, before holding out his hand. In a flash of smoke and light, a bottle appeared in his hand.

As he held it out to you, your eyes widened as you gently took it from his grip.

“A potion? You really made some?”

Dracula crossed his arms a bit in pride as you looked over the bottle.

“Of course. You’ll find I am not fond of breaking promises, or going back on my word.”

You took a moment to look over the bottle you now held in your hands, almost disbelieving. Dracula felt a pang of something in his heart. Pity? Worry? He wasn’t sure, but he didn’t like how astounded you looked over the fact he would get you some basic potions.

“I do apologize in advance. Due to the fact your injuries were severe, I had this made as fast as possible. It won’t heal you completely, but it should heal the worst of your wounds.”

For a moment, you were silent, clearly thinking.

“If you are worried about it being poisoned-” he began, but you raised a hand to cut him off.

“No! No, it’s fine. Sorry. I trust it isn’t poisoned.” You spoke. After another moment, you pulled the cork off the bottle, and debated if you should take a sip.

“However, I do wish to warn you about something.” Dracula said, speaking before you could drink it. He may as well tell you now, before you take a drink. No doubt you’d be upset if he told you after.

You froze, looking at him expectantly.

“Yes…?”

Dracula let out a frustrated sigh, a hand coming up to his forehead just thinking about it.

“Someone has tried to tamper with one of the batches of potions I have commissioned to be made.”

Your eyes widened, flickering to the potion, but he held up a hand to try and calm you before you could panic.

“I tossed that batch out after testing it myself. I can assure you the potion you hold in your hand has been deemed clean by myself personally. That one you hold in your hand was not supposed to go to you today. It was a batch that was supposed to simmer for a few more days.”

“To become a stronger batch…” You murmured, and Dracula felt a small twinge of pride. He supposes it shouldn’t be a surprise you would know such things, given how often you probably used potions in general.

“So… Someone wanted me dead…?” You asked, still eyeing the bottle critically. Dracula’s face turned a bit more sour.

“Unfortunately so. I will not lie to you, having you as my guest has… ruffled some feathers. I’m currently investigating those I believe tried to lace the potion with poison.”

Bright eyes flickered to him, and he caught that look, one of near disbelief.

“Why? I don’t particularly blame them, I’m a hunter, after all…” You murmured once again, eyes glancing back to the bottle.

“Because you are my guest. I will not tolerate those who wish to go against my orders, and attempt to kill the company I deemed worthy to keep.”

Dracula wondered if you weren’t used to such thoughts, with the way he saw emotions flicker across your face, gone as quick as they came.

Summoning a chair from the side of the room, he sat down, placing his elbows on his knees as he rested his chin over his clasped hands.

“If you don’t wish to drink that potion, I will not force you. It will just take a longer period for you to fully recover. I will not blame you for doing so.”

After all, he just admitted someone tried to use a different batch to kill you. He wouldn’t blame you for being careful.

You seemed to think for a moment, and Dracula decided to keep speaking as you thought about it.

“I also wish to officially inform you that unrest is beginning to stir in the castle. However,” Dracula began, taking in your expression of slight alarm, “I once again wish to reiterate something. You are allowed to protect yourself. I will not vilify you if you defend yourself from an attack.”

It was the truth. He had means to see if it was self defense, or a planned attack. He doubted you would attack unprompted.

You look at him a bit confused.

“But… How would you know it was self defense? The monsters who want me dead could just lie as a group, right?”

Dracula felt the corners of his lips twitch upwards. You had clearly been thinking about this, though he could tell it was something that must have weighed on your mind.

Not so much you thinking you could get away with attacking his subordinate, rather, you were worried about being attacked and thinking ahead.

He felt his lips curl into a small, amused smirk.

“I have my ways of figuring out what happens throughout my castle without being present.”

It was through his close connection with Castlevania, really.

Thanks to his connection, he was able to loosely figure out just who had tampered with your potions. Needless to say, it wasn’t hard to get the two witches to admit it, with how weak willed they were.

His castle was now a few witches less. Not that it mattered.

It wasn’t all of them, he was sure. Dracula still had a bit of investigating to do. The two he disposed of were just the ones who admitted to it, and Dracula could tell more were involved. No doubt he would be busy later looking further into the matter.

Some certainly weren’t happy with him, but alas, that was what happened when you attempted to hurt those he was protecting.

You seemed a bit skeptical, or perhaps curious?

“Um… Is it through the power of Chaos you can?”

As soon as you asked it, a worried look appeared on your face.

“Uh, if that isn’t too personal of a question, I mean…?”

He almost wanted to laugh. You were trying to be respectful, unsure if that was too much information to ask for.

“Trying to figure out a way to one up your enemy, hm?” He asked, though his lips ticked upwards in a full grin, clearly teasing you. Dracula could tell that wasn’t what you meant.

“No! That’s not what I-! I didn’t- fuck, I mean-”

It was adorable how you sputtered, and tried to catch your words to apologize.

“Relax, I’m only teasing you. Yes, it’s partially through the power of Chaos. Though Castlevania itself is bound to my very soul. Not much gets past me, should the castle alert me about it.”

You instantly relaxed at his words, and seemed to perk up in interest.

Once again, your eyes flickered to the bottle in your hand.

“Is that how you found out the last potion was poisoned?”

Dracula hummed, leaning back in the chair.

“No. One of my Alchemists alerted me to the fact several witches were discussing how they were… unhappy about your presence. I decided to check on the potion early, even if it was finished. I simply had my castle assist me in finding out who had done it.”

Silence filled the room once more. It seemed you were unsure what you wanted to say next.

After a beat passed, you looked back at him.

“Thank you, then. For checking. And for giving this to me.”

Your voice was soft, as was your smile.

If Dracula still breathed, he just knows his breath would have caught in his throat.

That was a smile that was worth protecting.

After you thanked him, you brought the bottle to your lips, and began to drink down the potion.

The effect was almost immediate. Even if he couldn’t see most of your wounds, he could see how you changed.

You no longer favored one side, leaning oddly to the left. Nor did you hold your arm as close as before. In fact, your body seemed to relax even further, now that the worst of the injuries were finally repairing from the magic treatment.

When you finished the drink, you pulled the bottle away from your lips, a disgusted look on your face presumably due to the taste. You coughed for a moment, and shook your head a bit.

After gathering your bearings, you then looked back up to Dracula, and truly smiled.

For once, you looked happy. You looked alive.

Yes, Dracula thought. Pursuing a future where you two don’t have to fight, would be one worth aiming for, just to see you smile once more.

[helpyourselfwithcherrywine]

Masterlist of Yakuza (RGG) Tattoos and Symbolism

Sawamura  —  Queen of the Night

Masato Aizawa  —  Black Carp

Daisaku Minami  —  Panther, Peonies, Snake, Woman and Skull

Akira Nishikiyama  —  Red Carp

Hiroki Awano  —  Momotaro

Shigeru Nakahara  —  Shisa and Hibiscus

Kazuma Kiryu  —  Oryu “Responsive Dragon”

Jo Sawashiro  —  Ryugyo - “Dragonfish”

Rikiya Shimabukuro  —  Habu Viper and Windmill Palm Leaves

Yoshitaka Mine  —  Kirin (Qilin)

Goro Majima  —  Hannya, Snakes and Cherry Blossoms

Yosuke Tendo  —  Rising Dragon

Tetsu Tachibana & Jun Oda  —  Bat

Tsuyoshi Kanda  —  Okame and Tennyo

Taiga Saejima  —  Tiger

Naoki Katsuya  —  Crane

Daisaku Kuze  —  Great King Enma (Yama), Ox-head and Horse-face

Daigo Dojima  —  Fudo Myo-o

Futoshi Shimano  —  Tiger

Keiji Shibusawa  —  Seiryu - “Azure/Blue/Green Dragon”

Masaru Watase  —  Asura King

Ryuji Goda  —  Yellow Dragon

Tsuneo Iwami  —  Hakutaku (Bai Ze)

Wen Hai Lee  —  Guan Yu and Dragons

Ichiban Kasuga  —  Ryugyo - “Dragonfish”

[helpyourselfwithcherrywine]

We are running right in schedule

we're running out of time to fuck it we ball....

[helpyourselfwithcherrywine]

Toji Fushiguro Falls In Love With You

Toji x Gn! Reader

MDNI

W: NSFW, Unrequited Love, One-Sided, Mild OOC Toji, Unhealthy, Mean/Cruel Reader, Cheating, Married Toji, Mercenary Reader, Sorcerer Reader, Friends With Benefits (kinda)

Commissions: Open! (You can commission me on Ko-fi!)

He knew what this new ache in his chest was. It was something that he typically felt, exclusively, for his wife. It was something that he felt when he found out she was expecting, something that only came when he knew he had gotten what he wanted and more.

Everyone else he had been with, all the women and the money that would come his way meant nothing to him at some point because he had his wife but then you came along. You were beautiful, fiery. You were violence and war all in one and it attracted him. He had a wife at home taking care of their newborn son and yet he was out here watching you slaughter curses, his cock hard and his mind wondering just how he'd convinced you to sleep with him.

He followed you around just to see what you would do. He learned your routine, committed it to memory, and followed you whenever he could. His wife suspected something was going on but she never confronted him about it. He wanted to feel bad for deceiving her but he couldn't. He wanted to feel you around him, your body enveloping him in your warmth as he filled you. He wanted you and nothing changed that.

So he convinced you to join him for a nightcap. You were both mercenaries, it was just to take off the edge of work. He didn't care where or what, as long as you let him have you he was content. And you let him. You're mouth was warm and your tongue lapped at his tip as he pressed you further down his length. The gargling, the gagging, the spit that drooled out of your mouth as you tried to take all of him made his heart race. You looked divine like this. On your knees and pleasuring him.

This repeated and became a monthly ordeal for the two of you. He would meet up with you once you finished your contract and he'd make sure to fuck you into the mattress of whatever dingy motel he could find for the night. He stopped being brutish with you too. He hated seeing the bruises on your skin from where he grabbed onto you, it made him feel disgusting. His precious gift. His lover. His everything.

You didn't reciprocate the affection though. To you, this was a stress reliever. Toji was just someone to fuck and forget. After all, he was bound to get a contract for you one day. God knew how long it would be until he was hunting you down. So you enjoyed it. You enjoy his body, rippled with muscles that he took full advantage of. You tamed him, made him docile and malleable. He was your toy to use and discard whenever you got tired of it. So when you found out he was married only after his wife died, you didn't know what to feel. There was a sense of disgust, this man had been tricking his spouse and he had been using you. He didn't even come completely clean about his wife until he explained that he had a son and that he would be too busy to see you.

You laughed at him. Was he stupid? Did he think you were going to play happy family with him after what he just confessed to you? you couldn't hold back the cackle that left you. You told him to get lost and never speak to you again.

His face fell. He thought you felt the same. That you'd want him. That you needed him the same way he needed you. Did you? You had to have felt something every time he left his mark on you. Every time he told you that he wanted you. That he loved you.

You stayed true to your word. You never spoke to him again. Not when he called you and you listened to him moan about how his new wife was nothing like you. How he wanted to be with you instead of the woman who gave him a second child. All of this pathetic bitching was over the phone and you listened to your amusement. You didn’t bother going to his funeral, didn’t see a point in mourning a man who wasn’t worth your time. You did wonder what became of his son

[helpyourselfwithcherrywine]

#MAYBE IN ANOTHER LIFE? [Gojo Satoru] part III

SUMMARY: Your boyfriend, who you loved more than anything, who was your will to live, broke up with you.

— C.W: ex-boyfriend! Gojo satoru x depressed! female reader , geto suguru x reader , dark themes , suggestive , hurt no comfort.

— WORD COUNT: 4.2k+

— A/N: I wonder what happens next..😋

PREV | NEXT | SERIES MASTERLIST

Moved on? No..that can’t be true.

The sight before him felt like a nightmare, a cruel twist of fate that tore at his heart. His ocean blue eyes stared deep into his best friend's darker eyes, searching for any sign that this was all a terrible mistake. But his best friend only glanced back at him, devoid of any emotion, as if their actions held no consequence.

This was a betrayal of the highest order in Gojo's eyes. His best friend, the person he had trusted and confided in, had slept with his ex-girlfriend, the same ex-girlfriend who gojo had left for someone better. The pain was like a knife twisting in his chest, leaving him breathless and shattered.

Gojo wiped away the tears that streamed down his face, his mind swirling with a mixture of anger, sadness, and disbelief. He turned away, unable to bear the sight any longer, feeling a deep sense of loss and abandonment. It was as if his entire world had crumbled before his eyes.

As he walked away, his mind wandered back to the past, to the moments when he and you were still together. He remembered the warmth of your presence, the way you fit perfectly in his arms as you lay in bed together. Your bodies intertwined, your chest rising and falling with every breath, and the gentle rhythm of your heartbeat. It was a moment of pure bliss, a moment he had taken for granted.

His eyes were wide open, gazing at your peaceful face. Your eyes closed, your mouth slightly open, and a small droplet of drool escaping from the corner of your lips. Without hesitation, Gojo gently wiped it away, his touch filled with tenderness and love. He pressed you closer to his chest, wanting to protect you from the world, to shield you from any pain.

But now, those memories only served to intensify the agony he felt. He had promised you the world, vowed to be the person you needed and deserved. Yet, he had failed you, repeatedly breaking your heart with his thoughtless actions. He had kissed other women in front of you, disregarding your feelings and causing you immeasurable pain. And yet, you forgave him every time, always giving him another chance, always saying, "It's okay. I forgive you."

You were an incredible person, too good for him. Most women would have walked away, refusing to tolerate such mistreatment. But you saw the good in him, the potential for growth and change. You believed in him, even when he didn't believe in himself. Your kindness and forgiveness were boundless, and he took advantage of that.

And now, he had left you for someone he deemed "better." He claimed that this new person had a stronger mind, a better physical appearance. But those reasons seemed shallow and insignificant compared to the love and devotion you had given him. He had discarded your heart, your everything, for someone who later betrayed him.

The pain of it all was overwhelming. The tears continued to flow down Gojo's face, his heart heavy with regret and self-loathing.

The weight of his actions bore down on Gojo’s shoulders, a heavy burden that threatened to crush him. The pain he felt now mirrored the pain he had inflicted upon you with his thoughtless words. As he walked out of the room, his steps heavy and slow, he couldn’t help but feel a deep sense of remorse and regret.

The hallway stretched before him, a long and seemingly endless corridor that mirrored the vast expanse of his guilt. Each step he took felt like a painful reminder of the hurt he had caused, the trust he had shattered. As he reached the front door, he paused, his hand trembling as he grasped the doorknob. It was as if he was standing at the precipice of a deep abyss, unsure of what lay beyond.

With one last glance back at the room, his eyes filled with a mixture of longing and sorrow, Gojo closed the door behind him. The sound of it resonated in his ears, a finality that echoed through his soul. The outside world greeted him with a torrential downpour, raindrops falling heavily from the sky, as if the heavens themselves were mourning the loss of something precious.

The rain soaked through his snow-white hair, clinging to his face, mingling with the tears that streamed down his cheeks. The droplets cascaded down his body, drenching his white dress shirt, the fabric becoming slightly translucent under the weight of the water. But Gojo paid no attention to his appearance, his focus consumed by the turmoil within his heart.

As he walked through the streets, the rain continued to pour, washing away the remnants of his pride and arrogance. Each step he took felt like a penance, a physical manifestation of his remorse. He stopped and turned around, his eyes fixated on the apartment where you and his best friend now resided. The desire to apologize, to make amends, burned within him like a flickering flame.

The pain of being left for someone else, the feeling of abandonment, was a sensation he couldn’t bear to imagine you experiencing. He longed for the chance to rebuild a connection, to salvage what was left of the bond he had foolishly shattered. The thought of being friends, of starting anew, provided a glimmer of hope amidst the darkness that engulfed his soul.

Yet, doubts lingered in his mind, fueled by the harsh words his best friend had spoken. Could it be true that you had moved on, that you had forgotten about him? The possibility seemed unfathomable, but he couldn’t deny the consequences of his actions. The pain he had inflicted upon you was immeasurable, and he questioned whether forgiveness was even possible.

The realization of his own wrongdoing hit him with a force he had never experienced before. The magnitude of his actions, the way he had left you for someone else without a second thought, haunted him. He knew that he wouldn’t be able to forgive someone who had treated him in such a callous manner. The guilt gnawed at his conscience, a reminder of the monster he had become.

But despite the darkness that consumed him, Gojo couldn’t bear the thought of losing you completely. He yearned for your presence, your love, even though he knew he didn’t deserve it. The fear of being alone, of facing the consequences of his actions without you by his side, gripped his heart with an iron vice. He was not ready to let you go, to accept that he had destroyed something beautiful.

In his heart, he knew he had been a horrible person, a monster who had taken away everything he had once given you. The stability, the security, the love that he had provided when your life was falling apart had been ripped away, leaving you vulnerable and alone. The realization of his own cruelty left a bitter taste in his mouth, a bitter taste he was determined to change.

But even in the depths of his remorse, Gojo held onto a sliver of hope. He wanted you to stay, to give him a chance to make things right, even though he knew he didn’t deserve it. He was willing to fight for your forgiveness, to prove that he could change, that he could be the person you deserved.

As Gojo continued his solitary walk in the pouring rain, his mind raced with thoughts of the past and the future. The weight of his mistakes pressed heavily upon him, but he couldn’t help but cling to the hope that he could somehow make amends.

The memories of your first meeting flooded his mind, a stark contrast to the present. He had offered you a lifeline when your world was crumbling, providing you with a roof over your head, nourishing meals, and a sense of security. But then, in a moment of weakness, he had torn it all away, leaving you with nothing.

The guilt gnawed at his conscience, reminding him of the pain he had caused. How could he have been so thoughtless, so selfish? The realization of his own actions being mirrored back at him was a harsh reality he couldn’t escape. He knew that he had been a horrible person, capable of inflicting unimaginable pain.

But the desire to do things right burned within him, a flicker of hope that refused to be extinguished. He couldn’t bear the thought of you moving on, forgetting about him, as his best friend had claimed. The doubts lingered, but he clung to the possibility that maybe, just maybe, there was a chance for redemption.

The rain continued to fall relentlessly, the droplets merging with his tears as he walked through the deserted streets. Each step brought him closer to a decision, a determination to rectify his mistakes. He knew it wouldn’t be easy, that rebuilding trust would take time and effort, but he was willing to do whatever it took.

He vowed to find a way to help you regain your independence, to provide you with the means to support yourself once again. It was the least he could do, a small step towards making up for the pain he had caused.

As he walked through the rain-soaked streets, his thoughts consumed by the desire to make amends, Gojo couldn’t help but feel a glimmer of hope. Maybe, just maybe, there was a chance for forgiveness, for a new beginning. He knew he didn’t deserve it, but he was determined to earn it.

Back in the apartment where you and Geto had spent the night together, the scene was serene and peaceful. As you lay there, still deep in slumber, your body nestled against his chest, a sense of tranquility filled the room. Your thumb found its way into your mouth, a comforting habit that you had carried into adulthood, and your eyes remained gently closed.

Geto, unable to resist the urge to admire your serene face, gazed at you with a mixture of tenderness and longing. He delicately brushed away a few strands of hair that had fallen across your face, his touch gentle and affectionate. As he did so, his arm instinctively tightened around you, as if to protect you from any harm that might come your way.

His gaze shifted from your face to your neck, and he couldn’t help but lean in closer, his face nuzzling into the crook of your neck. It was a gesture of intimacy, a way for him to feel even closer to you in that moment. As he did, your hands found their way into his hair, fingers tangling in the dark strands, cradling them with a tenderness that only deepened his affection for you. Your fingers gently massaged his scalp, creating a soothing sensation that brought a slight smile to his lips.

But that smile quickly faded when he heard you utter a name in your sleep.

„S’toru..“

It was his best friend's name, a name that held a power over your heart that he could never compete with.

The weight of that realization crashed down upon him like a tidal wave, drowning him in a sea of self-doubt and heartache. How could he have been so naive to think that he could ever replace the one who had captured your soul?

A bitter taste filled his mouth as his grip on you tightening. The pain of knowing that your heart would forever belong to another pierced his soul, leaving a deep, irreparable wound. He couldn't help but question his own worth, wondering if he would ever be enough for you.

The thought of you, still yearning for his best friend, tore at his heartstrings, leaving him feeling hollow and broken.

In that tender moment, as Geto’s ears caught the gentle melody of your soft breaths and he felt the comforting weight of your slumbering body nestled against his chest, a wave of bittersweet emotions washed over him. It was in this very moment that he couldn’t help but question whether he would ever summon the courage to release his grip on you, to let you soar freely into the vast expanse of the world. For he understood that true love meant granting you the freedom to pursue your own dreams, even if it meant relinquishing his own happiness in the process.

A deep sigh escaped his lips, as if carrying the weight of his internal struggle, and he slowly closed his eyes, savoring the precious connection between your beings. In this fleeting moment, he knew that he had to cherish every second, for it might be the last time he would experience such profound intimacy.

-

As you slowly opened your eyes, the sight of an empty bedspread greeted you. Gradually propping yourself up on your elbows, you pushed yourself up from the bed, feeling a sense of disorientation. You looked around, attempting to restore clarity to your vision by rubbing your eyes gently.

After finishing the brief moment of eye-rubbing, you opened your eyes again and surveyed the room. It was devoid of any presence, with the curtains drawn wide, allowing the warm sunlight to filter in. Your gaze shifted to the end of the bed, where a small pile of clothes caught your attention. Carefully removing the blanket, you prepared to rise to your feet, only to find your legs betraying you. The lower half of your body ached from the events of the previous night.

Wincing at the pain, you instinctively held onto your stomach, where the most intense discomfort resided. Determined to ignore the discomfort, you summoned the strength to stand up, taking hold of the pile of clothes and proceeding to get dressed.

The aroma of freshly cooked pancakes filled the air, instantly making your mouth water. The tantalizing scent seemed to beckon you towards the kitchen, where you found Geto standing by the stove, his skilled hands expertly flipping golden brown pancakes.

As he heard your footsteps, Geto turned around, a warm smile spreading across his face. He greeted you with a soft “Good morning,”

You returned his greeting, taking a seat at the kitchen island. The smooth surface felt cool against your fingertips as you watched Geto meticulously arrange the pancakes on a plate. The sight of the fluffy stacks, topped with a generous drizzle of maple syrup, was enough to make your stomach growl in anticipation.

As Geto carefully placed the plate of pancakes in front of you, you couldn’t help but admire his attention to detail. Each pancake was perfectly cooked, with a delicate golden crust and a fluffy interior. The aroma of the warm maple syrup mingled with the buttery scent of the pancakes, creating a symphony of flavors that danced in the air.

You picked up your fork and knife, ready to dive into the delectable feast before you. The anticipation grew with each bite, as the soft texture of the pancakes melted in your mouth, leaving behind a sweet and satisfying taste.

You glanced up from your plate, catching Geto’s gaze fixed upon you. His expression was vacant, devoid of any emotion. It was as if a wall had been erected between you, separating the intimacy you had shared just hours ago.

„How are your legs?“ he asked, while you flushed red as you remembered last night‘s events.

Placing your fork down on the plate, you shifted uncomfortably in your seat, avoiding Geto’s penetrating stare. The soreness in your legs served as a physical reminder of the intensity of your encounter. “I- uhm… They’re sore,” you muttered, your voice barely audible.

Geto’s face contorted with guilt, his voice barely a whisper as he apologized. “Sorry,” he uttered, his voice filled with regret.

You tried to reassure him, your voice tinged with a mix of understanding and self-blame. “Ah- It’s okay, don’t worry. It was also kinda my fault,” you replied, the words escaping your lips almost involuntarily.

You reached for another pancake, attempting to distract yourself from the discomfort of the conversation, stuffing it into your mouth to fill the awkward silence.

But Geto’s next words pierced through the air, shattering the fragile peace that had momentarily settled between you. “Listen… I don’t want to make things awkward between us, but I think it’s best if we just forget about what happened last night,” he spoke, his gaze averted, avoiding the intensity of your gaze.

Your eyes widened at his words, a mixture of shock and hurt flooding your being. It felt as if the ground beneath you had shifted, leaving you unsteady and uncertain. The vulnerability and connection you had shared now seemed to be discarded, deemed insignificant and disposable. Your lips trembled slightly as you struggled to process his request.

Closing your eyes, you took a deep breath, attempting to steady yourself amidst the storm of emotions raging within you. The word “okay” slipped from your lips, barely audible.

But as you uttered that single word, a whirlwind of thoughts and questions consumed your mind. Did you do something wrong? Was your presence a burden to him? Did he regret sleeping with you?

Your gaze shifted towards Geto, who still avoided your eyes, his own turmoil evident in his body language. The pain of his words reverberated within you, leaving you feeling exposed and vulnerable. In that moment, you couldn’t help but wonder if you were nothing more than a temporary distraction, a regrettable mistake in his eyes.

—

Days had passed since that fateful night when you and Geto had shared a passionate encounter. In the aftermath, you found yourself retreating to the confines of your room, seeking solace in the familiar walls that surrounded you. Occasionally, you ventured out to the grocery store, trying to distract yourself from the whirlwind of emotions that consumed your thoughts.

But amidst the mundane routine of your days, you began to notice small gifts appearing by your door. They were simple tokens, accompanied by a note that simply read, “I’m sorry.” The identity of the sender remained a mystery, leaving you perplexed and intrigued. You couldn’t help but wonder who was behind these gestures of remorse and what they were apologizing for.

Curiosity got the better of you, and you decided to confront Geto about the mysterious gifts. His reaction was puzzling, as he glanced at the note with furrowed eyebrows before simply stating, “I don’t know.”

As the days turned into weeks, you couldn’t help but notice a shift in your relationship with Geto. The once easy camaraderie and shared activities seemed to fade away. Eating meals together, watching TV, playing board games - all those moments of connection became a distant memory. Every time you suggested doing something together, Geto would find an excuse to avoid spending time with you. The distance between you grew, leaving you feeling isolated and confused.

You had convinced yourself that sleeping with Geto would help you move on from your lingering feelings for Gojo. You had hoped that by giving yourself to Geto, you could erase the memories and emotions that tied you to Gojo. But it didn't work. The feelings remained, stubbornly clinging to your heart, making you question the choices you had made.

Guilt washed over you, a heavy weight that settled deep within your being. You realized that you had used Geto as a means to an end, using him to distract yourself from someone else. The realization left you feeling remorseful and remorseful. Why hadn’t Geto spoken up before? Why hadn’t he expressed his reluctance to engage in such intimacy?

As you stepped out of your room and made your way towards the kitchen, the anticipation of cooking a delicious meal filled your thoughts. However, as you entered the kitchen, you were met with a surprising sight. A woman, unknown to you, stood by the stove, engrossed in her cooking. Her back was turned towards you, hiding her face from view. Yet, even from this angle, you couldn’t help but notice her captivating presence. Her long brown hair swayed with each movement, accentuating her graceful hips as she hummed a melodic tune. It was clear that she possessed a beauty that was hard to ignore.

Summoning your courage, you approached the woman and stood behind her. Your shyness threatened to overwhelm you, but you managed to find your voice. “Uhm, excuse me… but who are you?” you asked, nervously twisting your hands in front of you, attempting to conceal your timidity.

Upon hearing your question, the woman turned around, her gaze meeting yours. In that instant, your confidence evaporated, replaced by a mix of awe and unease. Her eyes, a mesmerizing shade of light blue that bordered on gray, locked onto your own. Her flawless skin and overall radiance only added to her undeniable beauty.

A warm smile spread across her face as she responded, “You must be Suguru’s roommate, if I’m right?” Setting down the spatula she had been using, she extended her hand towards you. “Nice to meet you! I’m his girlfriend, Hime!”

Your eyes widened, and your mouth fell slightly agape. It felt as if the world around you had come crashing down. The once inviting warmth of the kitchen seemed to dissipate, leaving you in a cold and desolate space. Hime’s revelation echoed in your mind, and a sinking feeling settled in your chest. You managed to muster a strained smile and a barely audible acknowledgment, but inside, a tempest of emotions raged.

The reality of Suguru having a girlfriend hit you like a cruel blow, shattering the hopeful anticipation that had filled your heart. Deep down, you knew that you still harbored feelings for your ex, Gojo. Yet, despite this knowledge, an overwhelming sense of jealousy consumed you. You couldn’t help but envy the happiness that radiated from Hime.

Why couldn’t you be happy? Why did Gojo have to find someone else and seemingly snatch away all the joy that was once yours? The pain in your heart was unbearable, throbbing with an intensity that seemed to overshadow everything else.

A torrent of thoughts and doubts flooded your mind. Perhaps you weren’t deserving of happiness, destined to be denied the same contentment that others seemed to effortlessly possess. You fought to conceal the sadness brewing within you, nodding politely as Hime continued to speak. However, each word she uttered carved deeper into your conflicted feelings. The once cozy kitchen, a space that had been filled with shared moments, now felt like a lonely battlefield where emotions clashed and waged war.

“Oh, there you are… it seems like you already met her,” a voice from behind you chimed in, interrupting your thoughts. Startled, you turned around, locking eyes with Geto, his darker gaze meeting your own. A wave of conflicting emotions washed over you as you processed his presence.

The realization dawned on you that perhaps Geto had asked you to forget about that fateful night because he already had a girlfriend. Maybe he regretted what had happened, considering it a mistake. Your eyes dropped slightly, a pang of hurt piercing your heart at the sight of him with someone else. Part of you wished you could be Hime, but another part resented the idea. It was a tumultuous mix of emotions that left you feeling lost and uncertain.

However, you knew deep down that you had no right to be jealous. Geto was an amazing and caring man who deserved all the happiness in the world. You should be happy for him, even if you couldn’t help but feel a tinge of sadness. You mustered a smile, determined not to let your true feelings show. After all, you had no right to claim any ownership over his heart.

Looking down, you muttered a small, “Yeah…” in response to Geto’s comment. Hime rushed over to him, jumping into his arms as he caught her. They shared affectionate kisses. It was a sight that stabbed at your heart, a reminder of the happiness you longed for but seemed forever out of reach.

Why couldn’t you experience that kind of happiness? It wasn’t as if your ex, Gojo, hadn’t showered you with attention. The problem was that you weren’t the only one receiving that kind of affection from him. He had cheated on you multiple times, and yet, you forgave him time and time again, despite the pain it caused you.

But you couldn’t let him go because your love for him was so strong, so all-consuming. You held onto the belief that he would eventually change, that he would realize the error of his ways. But that moment never came. Instead, he left you before any change could occur, leaving you broken and questioning your worth.

“I’m going out…” you spoke.Turning around, you made your way towards the door that led to the outside world, craving the solace of fresh air.

Geto turned to look after you, his eyes filled with concern and confusion. “But it’s already late. You shouldn’t go out now,” he spoke, releasing Hime from his embrace and following your retreating figure.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be fine. I just need some fresh air,” you replied, slipping on your shoes and jacket, preparing to face the world outside.

“But… fine. Just be careful, and call if something’s the matter,” Geto said, his hand nervously resting behind his neck as he watched you intently.

“Okay,”

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TAGLIST [full]

@3zae-zae3 @sexeyess @silkija @dancinhhillary @musicarose @vanevafu @labelt-san @cl16void @feellaaya @animechick555 @nanmiik @ichikanu @cupidszvlvr @pinksaiyans @phoenix666stuff @coffeeluvr96 @alpha-mommy69 @isaacdaholi @xx-rfg-xx @3sodoney @ambalikadubeyy-blog @certainduckanchor @r0ckst4rjk @xxemmarldxx @starrylibras @lady-cryptstone @sparklydhokla @hoeforchoso @sweetlilhoshi @getou0309 @n8mareee @integers @colouringfrogssittinginleaves @skittleabyss @softnorth @maliakealoha @avalordream @dazaisfavgf @thebacksack @darkphoenix3432 @mwtsxri @nothisispatrick300 @andioopsworld @sup-hoes-its-me @yihona-san06 @s3r-en-d1p-ity @mandysfanfics @adanfore @rainydayssmokescreens @luvvmae @aquamarine001 @chilichopsticks @tinyjeo @adoretaylor @girlsvvish @misfits1a

A/N: I guess nothing bad happened yet😋

[helpyourselfwithcherrywine]

(SAKURAI) ROCKIN ON JAPAN January 1993 Vol.68

[helpyourselfwithcherrywine]

@especiallyhaytham I'd have to agree, I've been seeing stuff like this in a lot of fandoms. It's really getting on my nerves.

I think.

That I am quite literally torturing myself at this point, in trying to play through Assassin's Creed 3

It is, objectively, a dreadfully boring story, with an absolutely ABYSMAL set of controls. Nothing about this game is making it up to me, and I'm sick of replaying missions or area's because the terrible and outdated ui is causing me to die so frequently it's no longer fun

I thought I could stick it out, and got at least 50% through the story because I'm interested in the larger AC world and wanted to learn more about the early games, but legitimately I'm just torturing myself and edging my fucking anger issues every time I pick up the game

DNFing this one. Sorry, Connor ✌️

[helpyourselfwithcherrywine]

Modern au of the great templar master Haytham~

[helpyourselfwithcherrywine]

If any of y'all are interested I just posted a new playlist.

My mixtape on my YouTube channel

Listen to my other playlist. I have two Bucky Barnes playlist and a bunch of others as well.

[helpyourselfwithcherrywine]

If you guys can help think of songs or maybe a song I forget about. It's about the early 2000s. I need to put a new playlist, but I'm going for that early 2000s r&b. Songs that hit the itch are.

Love Scene - Klaus Badelt

Insane - Summer Walker

Vixen - Miguel

Please if you know any, put them in the comments.

[helpyourselfwithcherrywine]

♡'―MAYBE IN ANOTHER LIFE? [GOJO S.]

—SUMMARY: Your boyfriend, who you loved more than anything, who was your will to live, broke up with you.

♡´—C.W: ex-boyfriend! Gojo satoru x depressed! female reader , dark themes , slightly geto suguru x female reader.

—WORD COUNT: 5.3k+

„I think we should break up.“

Gojo’s words hung in the air, as he looked into your eyes.

Your heart skipped a beat, and you fought to keep the tears at bay. You desperately tried to maintain your composure, not wanting to show Gojo just how deeply his words had wounded you.

“Why? What happened?“ You managed to ask, your voice trembling.

Gojo’s gaze softened, but his eyes held a distant look, as if his mind was already elsewhere. “I’ve found someone else,” he admitted, his words like a dagger to your fragile heart.

A whirlwind of emotions engulfed your thoughts. Insecurity, confusion, and a deep sense of betrayal washed over you. You had always known Gojo was popular, surrounded by women who seemed to possess an otherworldly beauty that you could only dream of. But you had hoped that your connection would be strong enough to withstand any external temptations.

As tears welled up in your eyes, you couldn’t help but question your own worth. Gojo had been your beacon of light, the one who had brought joy and stability into your chaotic world. You had believed that your love was strong enough to overcome any obstacles.

But now, faced with the harsh reality of Gojo’s confession, your insecurities resurfaced with a vengeance.

How could Gojo have led you on, making you believe that your love was real, only to discard you so easily for someone else?

But despite the storm of emotions raging within you, you knew that you had to find the strength to let Gojo go. You couldn’t force someone to love you, no matter how much you wanted to.

And so, with a heavy heart and tears streaming down your face, you whispered, “If that’s what you truly want, then I won’t stand in your way.”

You wiped away your tears and caught Gojo’s gaze. His eyes were filled with regret and sadness, and you could see the pain he felt in his expression. It was as if he realized the gravity of his decision and the hurt he had caused you.

“I’m so sorry,” Gojo whispered, his voice filled with genuine remorse. “I never wanted to hurt you. It’s not about your worth or how you compare to anyone else. It’s about me and my own shortcomings.”

You looked at him, surprised by his words.

“I understand,” you replied softly, your voice filled with a mix of sadness and acceptance. “I know I can’t change your feelings or make you stay. I’ll start packing my things so you can have your apartment back.”

As you rose from the plush couch, your footsteps echoed through the spacious apartment, the sound muffled by the thick carpet beneath your feet. With a heavy heart, you made your way to the bedroom you had once shared with Gojo. The room seemed to hold its breath, as if aware of the impending change that would soon occur.

You opened the grand closet, its ornate doors revealing a collection of clothes and personal belongings. The air was filled with a bittersweet nostalgia as you carefully selected each item, their presence a testament to the love and happiness you had once shared. The room seemed to whisper your name, its walls bearing witness to the countless moments of joy and intimacy that had unfolded within its confines.

As you held each cherished possession in your hands, memories flooded your mind like a river. The soft touch of Gojo's hand, the warmth of his embrace, and the laughter that had once filled the room. Each item carried a weight of emotions, a reminder of the love you had believed to be unbreakable.

Gojo, sitting on the edge of the bed, watched you with a pained expression. The reality of the situation seemed to settle in, and he realized the depth of the connection he was severing. The room felt colder, emotions hanging thick in the air.

As you folded your clothes and placed them in a suitcase, Gojo finally spoke again, his voice carrying a tinge of regret. "I never wanted it to come to this, Y/n. You deserve happiness, and I hope you find it even if it's without me."

His words lingered, a bittersweet acknowledgment of the end. The room, once filled with shared laughter and intimate moments, now felt like a haunting memory. The pain was palpable, and you couldn't help but wonder if it would ever subside.

As you zipped up your suitcase, Gojo approached, his hand hesitating in the air as if unsure whether to touch you.

He gently brushed away a tear that rolled down your cheek.

"I'm truly sorry," he murmured,

With your suitcase in hand, you stood near the doorway, taking one last look at the place that had been your shared sanctuary. It was a goodbye to not only Gojo but also to the dreams you had woven together.

As you walked out, Gojo remained in the room, the emptiness echoing the void left by the shattered relationship. The door closed behind you, sealing the end of a chapter that had once promised forever.

-

In the days that followed, the task of finding a new place to call home became increasingly overwhelming. The once vibrant city, which had once been a source of shared dreams and promises, now seemed indifferent to your struggles. Each apartment viewing brought with it a fresh wave of emotions, serving as a painful reminder of the life you had envisioned with Gojo.

In the midst of this turmoil, old habits resurfaced. You found yourself reaching for cigarettes and turning to alcohol as a means of coping.

It was disheartening, as you had believed that these vices were behind you after Gojo entered your life and seemingly fixed all your problems. But now, they have reappeared, threatening to consume you once again.

What made matters worse was the lack of support you had. There were no parents to lean on, no friends to turn to for help. You were left to navigate this challenging situation all on your own, starting from scratch.

Before meeting Gojo, you had worked countless jobs to pay your bills and support your studies, scraping by with whatever little money you had.

The weight of it all was taking its toll on you. You felt yourself falling apart, the stress and uncertainty chipping away at your resolve.

But then, Gojo appeared, and your life took an unexpected turn. It was as if the universe had conspired to bring the two of you together. The first time you laid eyes on him was when you were working as a waitress at a cozy bakery. As he walked in, time seemed to stand still. Your heart skipped a beat as you took in his striking features.

His vibrant blue eyes, reminiscent of a clear summer sky, held a depth that drew you in. His snow-white hair and lashes added an ethereal touch to his already captivating appearance. And when he smiled, it was as if the whole room lit up with warmth and charm. You were instantly captivated by his presence, unable to tear your gaze away.

To your surprise, Gojo noticed your lingering glances and, with a confident stride, approached the counter where you were working. He invited you to join him, and you couldn’t resist the opportunity to spend more time with this enigmatic man. As you sat together, indulging in delectable desserts, the hours seemed to melt away in a blur of laughter and shared stories.

Days turned into weeks, and Gojo became a regular at the bakery, always seeking your company. The two of you would engage in deep conversations that spanned a wide range of topics, from the trivial to the profound. Each interaction only deepened your connection, and before you knew it, you found yourself falling for him.

However, amidst the blossoming romance, a nagging doubt lingered in the back of your mind. You couldn’t help but notice the parade of women that seemed to surround Gojo. He would visit the bakery at least twice a week, each time accompanied by a different woman. They would engage in affectionate displays, acting as if they were a couple.

As you observed these interactions, a wave of insecurity washed over you. Comparisons became inevitable, and you couldn’t help but feel inadequate in comparison to these stunning women. Their flawless skin, plump breasts, and alluring curves seemed to highlight your own perceived shortcomings. Their beauty was undeniable, and you couldn’t help but wonder if you would ever measure up.

But despite these doubts, Gojo continued to seek your company, showing genuine interest in your thoughts, dreams, and aspirations. His actions spoke louder than words, and you began to question your own self-doubt. Perhaps there was more to this connection than meets the eye.

Maybe, just maybe, Gojo saw something in you that went beyond physical appearances.

Motivated by this newfound hope, you made a conscious effort to break free from your bad habits. Weeks turned into months, and Gojo continued to visit the bakery every day just to see you.

However, one day, something special happened. Gojo waited patiently for you to finish your shift and then walked you back to the motel where you were staying. It was during this walk that he truly realized how difficult your life actually was.

Seeing you work tirelessly, with dark circles under your eyes and wearing the same clothes day after day, Gojo couldn’t bear to see you living in such difficult conditions. He noticed the presence of alcohol and cigarettes in your room and insisted that you stay with him instead. He wanted to provide you with a better life, free from the struggles you had been facing.

And so, you took up Gojo’s offer and moved in with him.

And that's when you became a couple.

But after two years of being in a relationship with Gojo, he found someone else. The person who used to hold you in his arms, whisper sweet words of love, and make you feel like the most important person in his life was now directing those affectionate gestures towards someone else.

You didn’t want to let him go. The thought of losing him was devastating. However, you also understood that you couldn’t force him to stay with you if his heart was no longer fully committed. Questions swirled in your mind. Did you do something wrong? Were you not exciting enough for him anymore? Was there something else that led him to find someone new?

Despite the heartache, one thing remained certain- your love for Gojo would never fade. The pain of knowing that he loved someone else, someone who wasn’t you, was excruciating. No one could ever replace the way Gojo had changed you, the way he had touched your heart and made you feel alive.

You sat alone in the dimly lit motel room, a bottle of liquor in hand, you sought solace in the numbing effects of alcohol. The pain in your heart seemed unbearable, and you hoped that drowning your sorrows would provide temporary relief.

The room felt suffocating. Each sip of the bitter liquid seemed to momentarily wash away the ache, but deep down, you knew it was only a temporary escape. The truth remained that Gojo had moved on, and you were left grappling with the shattered pieces of your heart.

With a heavy sigh, you placed the half-empty bottle on the grimy nightstand and slowly rose from the disheveled bed. Your footsteps carried you towards the suitcase, which stood dutifully beside a small table, as you rummaged through its contents in search of something comfortable to wear for the night. The weight of your emotions bore down on you, causing you to push up your hoodie, removing it with a forceful toss onto the nearby chair, as you attempted to regain control over your tears.

The question echoed in your mind once again, piercing through the haze of confusion and hurt. How could he do this to you? The betrayal felt like a knife twisting in your heart, leaving you gasping for air amidst the waves of anguish.

You made your way towards the mirror. Your reflection stared back at you, a vulnerable and exposed version of yourself. The longer you gazed upon your topless form, the deeper the sadness seeped into your being. Your hand instinctively reached out, fingers grazing the surface of your bare stomach, as if trying to grasp the weight.

Could it be that your weight gain was the reason behind his abandonment? Did he no longer desire to be with you because of the changes in your body? The thought gnawed at your self-esteem, fueling the belief that the girl he now chose to be with possessed a flat stomach, a flawless figure, and enviable curves. Qualities that you, in your own eyes, did not possess.

Feeling the ache in your stomach intensify, you released your grip and turned your attention back to the task at hand. Pulling out a set of comfortable pajamas from your suitcase, you quickly changed into them, hoping that the soft fabric would provide some comfort amidst the chaos of your emotions.

As you lay down on the bed, the worn-out mattress offering little respite, your mind raced with thoughts of the uncertain future that lay before you. The realization hit hard – you would have to find a job, and fast. The fear of being kicked out of the motel, with nowhere else to go, loomed over you like a dark cloud.

You lay there, staring at the ceiling, your mind began to form a plan. You closed your eyes, the weight of exhaustion finally settling upon you.

-

Days turned into nights, and nights into days as you tirelessly searched for a job. The motel room became a temporary refuge, a place where you could rest your weary body and gather your thoughts before facing the world again. And then, finally, your efforts paid off.

You received a call from the bakery where you had once worked, offering you a position. Excitement and relief flooded through you as you accepted the job. It was a familiar place,

The first day back at the bakery was filled with a mix of nervousness and anticipation. As you stepped through the familiar doors, the scent of freshly baked bread enveloped you. The warm smiles and greetings from your former colleagues made you feel instantly welcome, as if you had never left.

You returned to your old position as a waitress and memories of Gojo lingered in the back of your mind. It had been a while since you had seen him, and you had made peace with the fact that he no longer wanted anything to do with you.

You let out a sigh as you walked over to the table where some guests were seated. Taking their orders, you jotted them down on a small notepad and headed towards the counter to place it.

As you turned around, the door opened, and there stood Gojo Satoru, looking as charming as ever. His eyes scanned the room until they landed on you, and a smile instantly spread across his face. He waved at you, and for a moment, your heart skipped a beat.

Beside Gojo stood a breathtakingly beautiful woman, exuding confidence and radiating charm. It was clear why Gojo was drawn to her, and you couldn’t help but feel a pang of jealousy.

With a polite smile, you excused yourself and walked away, seeking solace in the different side of the bakery. Your heart raced as you tried to process the unexpected encounter. The memories of your past relationship flooded back, bringing with them a whirlwind of emotions.

In the safety of the different side, away from prying eyes, you took a deep breath, trying to calm your racing heart.

As you continued your work, serving customers and attending to their needs, you found solace in the routine. The hustle and bustle of the bakery provided a distraction, allowing you to momentarily forget the turmoil that Gojo’s presence had stirred within you.

But deep down, you knew that healing would take time. The wounds were still fresh, and seeing Gojo with someone new had reopened them. Yet, you refused to let it define you.

As you stood behind the counter, your eyes scanned the room, searching for any customer in need of your assistance. However, it seemed that everyone was content, engrossed in their conversations and meals. Your gaze involuntarily shifted towards the table where Gojo sat with his new girlfriend.

You couldn’t help but observe the way Gojo’s eyes sparkled with adoration as he looked at her. The way his face lit up with a blush whenever she smiled at him was a sight you had never witnessed before. It was as if he saw her as a goddess, someone worthy of his utmost devotion and affection.

A pang of jealousy washed over you as you compared Gojo’s current demeanor with how he had looked at you in the past. His eyes had never held that same lovesick gaze when he was with you. It was a bitter realization that he had never regarded you in the same way he now regarded this new woman.

You couldn’t help but wonder what it was about her that captivated Gojo so completely. Was it her radiant smile, her confident aura, or perhaps something deeper that you couldn’t comprehend? Whatever it was, it was clear that Gojo had found someone who made his heart race and his eyes shine with love.

As you continued to observe them from a distance, a mix of emotions swirled within you. Part of you longed for Gojo to look at you with the same intensity, to make you feel like the center of his universe. But another part of you knew that it was time to let go, to accept that Gojo had moved on and found happiness elsewhere.

With a heavy sigh, you turned your attention back to your duties, reminding yourself that your worth was not defined by Gojo’s affections.

You carefully balanced the two deserts and the cup of hot chocolate on your tray, making sure everything was secure. Lost in your thoughts, you absentmindedly glanced at the table number where this order was meant to be served. Without looking up, you started walking towards the designated table, unaware of the impending collision.

Just as you were about to lift your gaze, your body collided with someone, causing your grip on the tray to loosen. The board slipped from your hands, and the cup of hot chocolate tumbled through the air, its contents splattering onto the person you had unintentionally crashed into.

Your eyes widened in shock, and panic surged through your veins as you realized the gravity of the situation. You quickly raised your gaze, meeting the eyes of the person you had accidentally drenched with hot chocolate. And in that moment, your whole world seemed to crumble around you.

It was her. The woman for whom Gojo had left you. The same woman who had stolen his heart and shattered yours in the process. The sight of her standing before you, her face contorted in pain as tears streamed down her cheeks, was like a knife to your heart.

She hissed in pain as the scalding hot chocolate made contact with her skin, desperately trying to wipe away the sticky liquid that clung to her. Your hands trembled as you reached for tissues from a nearby table, desperately attempting to alleviate the discomfort you had caused.

But just as you were about to wipe away the hot chocolate, a forceful hand slapped yours away, taking over the task of cleaning the girl's skin. Startled, you looked up and saw Gojo, his face contorted with fury. His eyebrows knitted together as he witnessed the tears streaming down the girl's face, his protective instincts kicking in.

You stood there, next to Gojo, your voice barely audible as you muttered apologies, trying to explain that it was an accident. But Gojo's anger seemed to drown out your words. He finished wiping away the hot chocolate from the girl's skin and pulled her into his arms, shielding her from any further harm. His gaze shifted towards you, his eyes filled with a mix of disappointment and rage.

"Why would you do that?!" he shouted, his voice echoing through the air. His words pierced through your heart, intensifying the guilt that already weighed heavily upon you. You could see the hurt in his eyes, the pain of betrayal mingling with the anger. But you couldn't find the words to defend yourself, knowing deep down that there was no justification for your actions.

„It was an accident-“

He took a deep breath,"Save it, I know why you did it.“

„Just because I found someone else and that I’m happy with them doesn’t mean that you’ll get to hurt them out of jealousy!“ he spoke

„I thought you were better than that," he said. The girl, still in his arms, chimed in, her voice filled with anger. "Call your manager, you need to be fired!"

Gojo's gaze shifted back to you, his eyes searching for an explanation. The weight of his disappointment and the girl's demand for your termination bore down on you. Panic set in as you realized the implications of losing your job. You couldn't afford to be fired; you needed the money to support yourself.

Desperation filled your voice as you pleaded with Gojo, "Please, don't ask for my manager. It was just an accident. I need this job, I can't afford to lose it." Tears welled up in your eyes as you tried to convey the sincerity of your plea. You knew you had made a mistake, but it was one born out of carelessness, not malice.

You instinctively grabbed Gojos' hand,“Please-!“ you begged, but your hand only got slapped away by the woman in his arms.

„And now you go touching someone’s boyfriend? What‘s wrong with you!“ the girl shouted as she slapped you.

Your head turned to the side from the force of the slap, a surge of pain radiated through your cheek. The impact left your skin hot and flushed, a visible mark of the humiliation you felt. You fought back tears, determined not to let them see your vulnerability.

With trembling hands, you gently placed your palm against your reddened cheek, trying to soothe the pain. Your eyes flickered towards the girl, searching for any sign of remorse or understanding, but all you saw was a cold, dismissive gaze. Her arms crossed defiantly, she demanded that you call for the manager, her voice dripping with disdain.

„Call the manager.“

Desperation welled up within you, and you mustered the courage to speak, your voice quivering with a mix of fear and desperation. "Wait, please! I... I really need this job," you pleaded, hoping that she would see reason, that she would understand the dire circumstances that led you to this moment.

She cut you off, her words sharp and dismissive. "I don't care, call for your manager," she interrupted, her tone leaving no room for negotiation or empathy.

Your gaze shifted towards Gojo, silently pleading for his intervention, for him to vouch for you or at least offer some support. But as you looked into his eyes, you saw a furrowed brow and a hint of disappointment. His voice, barely above a whisper, carried a weight of disbelief and disapproval. "Can't believe you would pull something like that," he murmured, his words landing like a heavy blow to your already wounded heart.

Your hand, still trembling, fell from your cheek as you straighten your posture. With a deep breath, you mustered the strength to bow,

"I'll get t-the manager right away," you said,

With a heavy heart, you turned away from Gojo and the girl, making your way towards the counter to call for the manager.

Your hands trembled slightly as you picked up the phone, dialing the number with shaky fingers. Each ring felt like an eternity, amplifying the anxiety that coursed through your veins. Finally, a voice answered on the other end, and you took a deep breath, trying to steady your voice.

"Hello- this is Y/n L/n from [Bakery]. I... I need to speak with the manager, please," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. The person on the other end assured you that they would connect you, and you waited anxiously, your heart pounding in your chest.

As you waited, your mind raced with thoughts of the consequences that awaited you. Losing this job would mean losing your only source of income, and the financial strain it would bring was overwhelming. You couldn't bear the thought of disappointing your loved ones or struggling to make ends meet.

Finally, the manager's voice came through the line, and you mustered up the courage to explain the situation. You recounted the accident, your sincere apologies, and the girl's demand for your termination. The manager listened attentively, their voice calm and composed as they absorbed the details.

After a brief pause, the manager spoke, their tone firm yet compassionate. "I will come over to assess the situation and speak with all parties involved. Please remain calm and await my arrival."

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves as you hung up the phone.

As you turned around, you noticed Gojo and the girl engaged in a hushed conversation. Their expressions were still filled with anger and disappointment, but there was also a hint of uncertainty. You approached them cautiously, your eyes downcast.

"I've c-called the manager," you said softly,"They will be here soon to address the situation. I... I'm truly sorry for what happened. It was never my intention to cause any harm or distress."

„Sure“ the girl replied.

-

Months had passed since that fateful encounter at the café. You had lost your job, the incident with Gojo and the girl tarnishing your reputation and leading to your dismissal. Now, you found yourself standing by the reception desk of another run-down motel, desperately seeking a place to stay for the night because you got kicked out of the last one.

As you approached the receptionist, a tired-looking man with a permanent scowl on his face, you couldn’t help but feel a pang of anxiety.

“Excuse me,” you began, your voice wavering slightly. “I was wondering if you have any available rooms for tonight?”

The receptionist glanced up from his paperwork, his eyes narrowing as he took in your disheveled appearance. His tone was curt as he replied, “We do have a few rooms left, but I’ll need payment upfront.”

Your heart sank. You had been scraping by, barely making ends meet, and the little money you had left was barely enough to cover your basic necessities.

“I… I’m sorry,” you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t have enough money to pay for a room.”

The receptionist’s scowl deepened, his impatience evident. “Look, we can’t just give away rooms for free. If you can’t pay, then I suggest you find somewhere else to go.”

Tears welled up in your eyes as you realized the gravity of the situation. You were alone, with nowhere to turn and no one to rely on. The weight of your mistakes and the consequences they had brought upon you felt suffocating.

With a heavy heart, you turned away from the reception desk, feeling the eyes of the other guests in the lobby on you, judging and pitying your predicament. As you walked towards the exit, a mix of shame and desperation washed over you, threatening to consume your spirit.

Outside, the cold night air greeted you, a stark reminder of your current reality. You stood on the sidewalk, feeling lost and defeated. The world seemed to blur around you as you pondered your next move, wondering how you had ended up in this dire situation.

Suddenly, a voice chimed in from behind, jolting you out of your thoughts. Startled, you turned around to find yourself face to face with Geto, your ex's best friend. His black eyes bore into yours, his raised eyebrows conveying curiosity and surprise. His gaze drifted to the suitcase clutched tightly in your hand, a silent question hanging in the air.

"Geto?" you questioned, your voice tinged with confusion.

A puff of smoke escaped his lips as he exhaled the cigarette between his fingers,"How many times do I have to tell you, you can call me Suguru," he replied,

“Why are you here?” he asked, standing before you and peering into your eyes. But before you could answer, another question slipped from his lips, catching you off guard. “Where is Satoru?”

The realization hit you like a punch to the gut. He didn’t know. How could he not know? Wasn’t he Satoru’s best friend? Shouldn’t he have been informed about the breakup that had occurred just last month? Did Gojo, your ex, not bother to share the news with him?

“Didn’t Satoru tell you?” you asked, breaking eye contact with him, unable to bear his gaze any longer.

“Tell me what?” he questioned. He removed the cigarette from his lips and threw it to the ground, crushing it under his shoe.

“That we broke up,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. As you watched his reaction, you noticed a flicker of surprise in his eyes before he regained his composure.

“You two broke up..?” he questioned,“Since when did you-”

“Last month we broke up,” you interrupted,

“Is there any reason why you two broke up? Everything was good, wasn’t it?” As he placed a comforting hand on your shoulder.

“He…” you hesitated, your gaze shifting to the side. “He found someone else,” you admitted, your lips trembling slightly.

“Oh,” he responded, his hand retracting from your shoulder as he crossed his arms over his chest. His eyes turned towards the night sky, lost in his own thoughts, before refocusing on you. “And why are you here in the middle of the night?” he asked, his gaze scanning you from head to toe, taking in your worn-out clothes. His eyes returned to your face.

“I got kicked out of the motel because I couldn’t pay for it anymore,” you replied,

His brows furrowed,"I'm so sorry to hear that," he said softly,"You shouldn't have to go through this alone."

Without hesitation, he reached out and gently placed a hand on your shoulder. "Listen, I have an idea," he said,"Why don't you come stay with me until you find a job and get back on your feet?"

Surprised by his offer, you looked at him,"I- I can‘t do that-!" you spoke.

A warm smile spread across his face. "Of course you can," he replied. "I have a spare room and it would be my pleasure to help you out. Sometimes, all we need is a little support to get back on track."

„But-!“

„No buts.“

"Thank you," you whispered, "I don't know what to say..."

He smiled warmly, his eyes sparkling,"No need to thank me," he insisted. "We all go through tough times, and sometimes we just need a helping hand. If there's anything else I can do, please don't hesitate to ask."

He took the suitcase from your hand and turned around, walking towards his house. "Let's go," he said, looking back at you.

You nodded and followed after him.

part II - currently writing

[helpyourselfwithcherrywine]

Blocking the one character from the one show that the fandom wouldn't shut up about was truly a magical decision. 10/10, would recommend.

[helpyourselfwithcherrywine]

YakuzaCanons Masterlist

Below are the links to all my headcanons for each of the Yakuza characters. Currently covers Yakuza 0, Yakuza Kiwami, Yakuza Kiwami 2, Yakuza 3, Yakuza 4, Yakuza 5, and Yakuza Ishin. Categories are separated by each individual character. If multiple characters are in one post, then it will be filed under miscellaneous.

Kazuma Kiryu

Dating Headcanons (SFW+NSFW)

Dating A Popular Male Host

Majima Goro

Dating Headcanons (SFW+NSFW)

Age Gap Dating Headcanon

Makoto Jealousy Headcanon

Majima Getting Doted On By His S/O

Having A Crush On Someone Similar To Makoto

Being Friends With A Younger Person

Having A Crush On Someone From Another Culture

Akiyama Shun

At Karaoke With A Shy S/O

Blorbo Bingo

Tanimura Masayoshi

Dating Headcanons (SFW+NSFW)

Dating A Southeast Asian S/O

Ryuji Goda

Dating Headcanons (SFW+NSFW)

S/O Helps Him Bleach His Hair

Growing Up And Crushing On His Childhood Friend

Blorbo Bingo

Nishikiyama Akira

Dating Headcanons (SFW+NSFW)

His S/O Calming Him Down

Blorbo Bingo

Daigo Dojima

Dating Headcanons (SFW+NSFW)

Office Sex Before An Important Meeting (NSFW)

Mine Yoshitaka

Dating Headcanons (SFW+NSFW)

Play Wrestling With His S/O

Blorbo Bingo

Mirei Park

Blorbo Bingo

Nishida

Blorbo Bingo

Ishin Miscellaneous

General Dating Headcanons

Falling For The Person They Are In An Arranged Marriage With

Ishin Is Actually DND And Majima Is the DM

General Miscellaneous

Yakuza 4: Random Food Headcanons

Yakuza 1-4: Karaoke and Music Headcanons

How Yakuza Characters Would Celebrate Your Birthday

Yakuza 0-4: How To Tell If They Have A Crush On You

Yakuza 0-4: How They Would Confess To You

Yakuza Drink Headcanons

Yakuza 4: How They Would Text You

How They Would Text You Part 2

Yakuza 4: How They Sleep/Cuddle

How They Sleep/Cuddle Part 2

How They React To A Birthday Gift

Minecraft Headcanons

Roblox Headcanons

VR Headcanons

Sims 4 Headcanons

Just Dance Wii Headcanons

Hostess Dating Headcanons

Period Comfort Headcanons

Comforting Their S/O

Shy S/O Headcanons

Soulmate AU Headcanons

S/O With Dog Trauma

Dealing With A Kid Going Through A Rebellious Phase

Reactions To Getting Cheated On

Reactions To Their S/O Getting Badly Injured

Dealing With An S/O With A Blood Phobia

How They Show Affection

Dating A Mute S/O

Proposal Headcanons

Reactions To A Really Flirtatious Person

Jealousy Headcanons

Dating An Idol

NSFW Miscellaneous

Kissing Headcanons (Mild NSFW)

Kink Headcanons

[helpyourselfwithcherrywine]

Two bikes (1)

Summary: You’re back in your hometown and meet two men from your past.

Pairing: former Jax Teller x fem!Reader (pre-story), Biker!Bucky Barnes x fem!reader

Warnings: angst, language, kinda cheating, implied/mentions of past cheating

Trope: Angst

A/N: I wanted Jax and Biker!Bucky in one fic. So suffer with me...

Kinktober vs Flufftober 2023

Back in town. Back to square one. Restart. Doing it all over.

You huff when you get out of your car. It doesn’t fit right in, just like you. It’s too expensive and conspicuous, for a small town like Charming. And you’re not the girl leaving this town with only a few bucks in your pocket but so many dreams.

It can’t be helped. You decided to come back here to find the inspiration for your next book. Change is what you want.

New place. New book. New you.

“Y/N?”

Crap. You didn’t think anyone would recognize you so soon. But here you are, finding yourself in the embrace of the man you ran away from so many years ago. “Hi, Jax.”

Fuck, he smells the same, and it still feels good being in his arms.

“I can’t believe it’s really you. I heard rumors about a VIP coming to our town.” He releases you and takes a step back to drink you in. “Look at you. All fancy and grown. You look…” Jax can’t find the words. “It’s good to see you, sweetheart.”

“I didn’t expect a reception committee,” you chuckle. Jax smiles as you take your time to drink him in. He wears torn jeans, a white tee, and a leather jacket. You can see that he’s second-in-command now, and sigh. When you left town, you had hoped Jax would turn his back on the club and do something more…legal. “I see you’re still with them.”

“It’s my family,” he hastily replies, but his tone lacks enthusiasm. “We are having a get-together tonight. A barbecue with family and friends. Why don’t you come too?”

“Jax,” you exhale sharply. “I haven’t seen most of them in years. I don’t think they want the girl they met once or twice years ago at their party.”

“Sweetheart, you’re still part of the family,” he shrugs. “Come on. Gemma will freak out seeing you all grown and Opi will love seeing you.”

“That big dummy is still around? I thought he’d leave you,” you snicker. “You were glued together at your hips if I recall right.”

“Well, he’s my best friend,” Jax grabs your hand. “Please come and have a little fun. For the old times.”

“I-“ you lick your lips. You knew that you’d eventually run into Jax and the others. If you want to start anew – why not see your old friends and Jax again? “Okay.”

“You can come around at any time, Y/N,” he grins. “If you want to, I’ll pick you up.”

“Nah,” you shake your head. This will go too far. You’re not ready to be back on a bike with Jax. “I’ll drive. I don’t trust you with speed and such.”

The reunion went surprisingly smoothly. Gemma hugged you, and wouldn’t stop asking questions. Opi offered a beer and a bear hug and the others greeted you like an old friend.

It almost felt like you never left. Almost.

You’re watching the others talk and having fun while Jax tries to talk you into going for a ride in the morning.

He has you caged against the wall, one hand next to your head, and his lips dangerously close to yours. Jax whispers your name and says all the right things.

Damn him. He easily had you wrapped around his finger in no time. Forgotten are the heartbreak and all the tears you shed for him.

“Y/N, tell you feel the same. Say that you feel there’s still this spark between us,” he leans impossibly closer to brush his lips over yours. “Sweetheart.”

“Jax.” You breathe out. “I-“ You open your mouth when he claims your lips. And you wrap your arms around him to hold him close.

“I knew it,” he nips at your lips, eagerly tasting you. “The moment I saw you standing next to your car, looking a little lost, I knew you’d come back to me.”

“Jax, it’s not that easy,” you grip his jacket tightly, not wanting him to pull away. “Maybe we can…”

“Jax, have a look at this. We need your help,” Tig ruins the intimate moment. He drags Jax away, unaware that you are about to do something stupid.

“Later,” you mouth as Jax glances at you. He nods, giving you a cracked smile before following Tig.

You’re pacing back and forth. Jax went to his room some time ago and you try to decide if you want to let your heart win tonight.

"Maybe this is the chance you've been waiting."

You take a deep breath and decide to go to his room and take the chance on him. Maybe this time, it won’t end in heartbreak.

You want to knock and feel like a fool. This used to be so easy when you were just horny and silly teens. Now you are a woman, and he’s a man. The man you still desire.

Without thinking twice, you open the door, pushing it open. You smile and want to tell Jax that you are ready to go on a ride with him tomorrow.

“What the fuck!” Your heart drops, and you feel like someone sent you back in time only for you to walk in on Jax and some other girl.

“Sweetheart…Y/N…” Jax gasps as you catch him red-handed with one of the girls from the strip club Tig wouldn’t stop talking about.

“Sorry, I didn’t want to stop you from ruining whatever that was not ten minutes ago,” you laugh at your stupidness.

You turn to leave and slam the door shut behind you. It’s not the first time in your life that someone made a fool out of you. But tonight, you did this to yourself.

“Babe, please wait,” Jax stumbles out of the room. He’s only in his boxers and tries to explain why he went from kissing you to fucking that girl. “I can explain…”

“You want to explain this?” you angrily point at the door. “Save it, Jax. You didn’t change one bit. One moment you sweet-talk to me and kiss me and the next you fuck her." You choke on your tears. “You made me feel like we got a second chance.”

Shaking your head, you try to hold back more tears. “It’s my fault. It was foolish of me to believe that for once I wasn't second best to you. How could I? If I’m so unimportant to you that you fuck her minutes after you kissed me.”

“Babe, we aren’t together, and,” he runs his fingers through his messed-up hair, “you got me so hard. I didn’t want to fuck things up and pounce on you. I just needed to release steam.”

“See, that’s the problem, Jackson Teller,” you silently sniffle. “You don’t even feel guilty for hurting me all over again. Ten minutes, Jax. You had to wait for ten minutes to get your dick wet. I’m glad it took me those ten minutes because you’ll never be faithful.”

“Please, let’s talk. We can go inside and…” He can only watch you step away from him. “Sweetheart.”

“I don’t need this and,” you push against his chest to slam him into the door, “I don’t have to listen to your lies. You’re right. We’re not together. We are nothing to each other. Only a faded memory. Let’s keep it that way.”

“Wait…I…”

“You better go back inside and finish what you started with her. At least give the poor girl an orgasm after all the trouble…”

You storm off, and shoulder past bikers. Gemma wants to stop you, but you’re too angry and hurt to even listen to her. Instead, you run toward your car and speed off.

“You’ve got to be shitting me,” you slam your hands on the steering wheel. It feels like the world decided to fuck you over once again. “No. You can’t just die out here in the middle of nowhere.”

It’s all too much. Being back in your hometown. Meeting your high school sweetheart only for him to break your heart again.

You sit in silence for a moment and think about all the decisions leading you back to him. Bad choices, you guess.

You hide your face in the palm of your hands. How could your fresh start end like this?

You jump when someone knocks at your window. Great. Now you drew attention toward you and your car.

“Hey, why are you lurking around in front of our club?” The man asks. “Are you with the cops? We do nothing illegal here.”

Your heart races when the man knocks at your window again. If fate wants to fuck you over some more, so be it. You roll down the window to look at the man.

“Sorry. Uh-my car just…” you sniffle. “The engine died, and I can’t get it back to life. I wasn’t lurking, just thinking about what to do now.”

He looks inside your car, but his features soften when he looks at your teary eyes.

“Hi. I didn’t want to scare you, doll. Do you want me to have a look at the engine? I know a thing or two about cars.”

“James? James Barnes,” You blink a few times to check if you saw right. “Is that you?”

“You know me?” He asks, looking a little confused.

“It’s me, Y/N Y/L/N. We went to the same high school. You probably don’t remember me. I was a little shy, and you were two years ahead of me at school.”

“Wait…” He wrinkles his forehead. “You were the cute girl Jax Teller was dating. I always wondered how he got so lucky.”

You clear your throat, not wanting to talk about Jax, and what he did to you. Back then and today. “He didn’t feel lucky, I guess.”

“What did he do, doll?”

“I don’t feel like talking tonight. Let’s say he liked to stray. Back then, and recently,” you give him a cracked smile. “He’s the reason I drove out of town only to end up here.”

“A shame. He should’ve valued you more, doll,” he flashes you a stunning smile. “If you open the hood for me, I’ll have a look at the engine.”

“That’s very kind of you, James.”

“Call me Bucky doll,” he grins when you open the hood. “A pretty lady like you can always call me Bucky…”

Tags in reblog.

[helpyourselfwithcherrywine]

This.

[helpyourselfwithcherrywine]

Love That Bites Pt. 8

AAAA ITS FINALLY DONE

Hello!! Welcome to part 8 of my Dracula x Belmont reader fic! Sorry it took so long to come out, but I hope you all enjoy it regardless! 🥰

Summary: What should have been the worst day of your life, quickly becomes the most confusing one when your family’s sworn enemy helps patch you up, and refers to you as his guest.

CW: Description of injury, blood, blood loss, minor anxiety and confusion, blood drinking (from a wine glass)

Word Count: 3765 Words!

Like my work? Come follow and support me here: Link

Reblogs and comments appreciated!

Tag list: @Onewiththebeanbag @starrlo0ver @sleepyendymion @dame-sunflowers

First: Here

Last: Here

Next: Here

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All within the span of a few hours, you couldn’t help but wonder if you had lost your mind.

Or maybe you had died, or were still at home, and hallucinating from trauma and blood loss?

Either way, as it were, you still couldn’t wrap your head around the fact that Dracula was currently carrying you in one of his arms.

That, and you weren’t fighting or struggling to leave his gentle grip, either.

Perhaps you really did hit your head too hard when ‘sparring’ your family, and this was some sort of… weird, desperate hallucination your brain had cooked up?

Though as much as you wanted to deny it, you knew deep down this was real.

Sure, your brain was definitely a bit hazy, but you knew this was no hallucination.

And that only confused you further.

‘What has my life come to…?’ You couldn’t help but wonder to yourself.

Even if your brain was in a bit of a fog, you still remembered what happened clearly.

You had accidentally released Dracula from his stony prison. You weren’t quite sure how, but if you had to wager a guess, you’d assume it was most likely your blood.

It was the only explanation you had.

Before today, you had touched the statue before, so it wasn’t just touch activated.

The only other conclusion you had was from how your hands had been covered in blood when you had tripped and fallen, landing on the statue to balance yourself.

Your brain was still reeling from it.

Dracula was back. He was alive.

What was more confusing though, was how he was acting towards you.

You had been so certain you were going to die. The injuries you had more or less ensured it.

There would have been no way you would be able to defeat Dracula with the injuries you had.

Yet…

He never attacked you.

Instead of mocking you and ending your life, he showed concern.

Your mind was still trying to process it all, his first words on repeat inside your mind.

“Who did this to you?”

Just thinking about it, and how fiery his crimson eyes had been as he asked that question, and how his cold hand had gently cradled your face…

You could feel your face heating up just thinking about it.

His hand had been so cool against your skin, such a calming feeling despite the overwhelming panic that threatened to choke you.

Ruby eyes had scanned over your body for injuries, clearly not liking what he was seeing. That was something else you were still struggling to wrap your head around.

Dracula had seemingly cared about you. He hadn’t even spoken more than five words to you, and he was enraged on your behalf, that much was clear.

“May I pick you up?” He had eventually asked. You had been too stunned to answer his first question, but this seemingly brought you out of your stupor for a brief moment.

Dumbly, you nodded, unable to really think to say or do anything else.

In all honesty, you were still processing everything then, just like you were now.

Slowly, Dracula made a point to show you both his hands, which were empty.

“I’m picking you up now, alright?”

He moved slowly to avoid startling you, though you still jumped when he slipped an arm under your legs and behind your back, and lifted you with ease.

As he stood to his feet, it was as if you weighed nothing more than a feather to him.

It took everything in you not to panic as he held you, your mind swimming as he held you close to his chest.

Holy hell he was tall…

And his scent… you found it odd how you found it almost comforting.

The vampire then turned towards the doors of the throne room, and you had made a small noise.

Pausing, he looked down at you.

You tried not to stumble over your words, shakily pointing to your bag on the floor.

“M-My…” you tried to speak, the words choking up in your throat. Thankfully, Dracula seemed to catch on to what you wanted.

“Of course.” He spoke, his voice so loud, yet so… calm? Gentle?

His voice resonated deep in you, striking you to your very core. It was strange, quiet, yet demanding of respect. Just like his entire presence.

He walked over to where your bag laid on the ground, each step proving just how tall he was. In what would have been quite a lot steps for you, were just a few mere steps for him.

When he approached your bag on the floor, he simply opened his free hand, and your bag flew into it.

You tried not to let your jaw drop, or jump at the easy display of power.

Making sure everything was in order, he began walking through the throne room, passing the massive doors at the entrance.

When he passed through the doors, your eyes widened when you noticed the castle.

It had changed.

The general shape had changed, there were new towers, and it seemed wider than before. Even the courtyard below the stairs leading up to his main tower seemed to look different, with what must have been monsters running around below.

The clouds surrounding the castle were darker, blocking out what little bit left of the day was here. Must be for himself and the other vampires to walk around during the day…

So it was true. Castlevania really did take different forms each time Dracula was revived.

Dracula continued through into the castle at a brisk pace, his stride long and fast. As he walked through the castle, you couldn’t help but flinch back when monsters began passing through.

Some would stop and bow, others would offer Dracula a brief greeting as he passed. You were gobsmacked.

You got plenty of odd looks, but Dracula seemed unfazed and uncaring about any of them. His pace never halted.

Briefly, you wondered where he was taking you. Maybe you shouldn’t have let your family’s arch nemesis pick you up and carry you around without explanation…

He walked through what felt like endless halls, taking many twists and turns, before ending up in a posh hall with several different doors.

The vampire stopped in front of one near the middle, and adjusted your bag before grabbing the handle.

When he pushed it open, you were surprised to see a well kept, beautiful guest room.

Words wanted to leave your mouth about it, but you found they were unable to escape your throat.

You were still just so… stunned. It was incredibly difficult to process everything happening.

That… and you were starting to grow tired.

How long have you been pushing yourself? Add the trauma, the injuries, and the fact you still pushed yourself to hike to Dracula’s castle on top of it…

Then the fall after an adrenaline rush, and the blood loss…

The wounds on your body were still only badly treated at best. In fact, in that moment, a wave of panic flew through you when you realized the wound on your side was still open.

It wasn’t pouring blood like when you had received it, but it was still very much raw.

How long since Dracula had eaten? Was the fresh scent of your blood not enticing to him? Were you being placed in here to be his next meal?

You doubted you’d be a tasty one. Or a filling one, with how low on blood you were. It would be a miracle if you ever recovered from this unscathed at this point.

Internally, you debated on trying to tell him you probably wouldn’t be that delicious, but you held your tongue.

It’s not like you could really trust yourself to speak properly anyway.

Plus… you were just… exhausted. Accepting your possible fate at this point.

You have no idea why Dracula would treat you this gently in the first place if he intended to feed on you, but hey, you could at least hope it wouldn’t hurt.

If anything, it would probably hurt less than the shit you have been through today, let alone the past few years.

Dracula stepping into the room, and shutting the door behind him brought you out of your inner musings.

He was quick, and across the room in an instant.

When he reached the bed, he surprised you again by gently setting you down on top of it.

He was fast, grabbing a box off the dresser on the bedside table you had missed.

After staring for a moment, your brain finally processed it as a first aid kit of some kind.

…First aid?

The Dracula was going to treat your wounds?

You were in such a fog, it took you a moment to realize he was talking to you.

Scrunching your face up, you finally managed to speak.

“…Sorry?” You asked, your throat so dry your word almost came out as a croak.

“I need to move your shirt to treat the wound.” He told you again.

Oh.

His eyes weren’t nearly as scathing, but still seemed very hot with anger. With closure inspection though, you were able to make out the concern on his face.

Blinking for a moment, you simply nodded your head, and sluggishly lifted your shirt for him.

That was nice of him to ask, you figure.

Dracula didn’t hesitate, pressing a rag to your wound to clean it, with some sort of ointment on it. You winced and hissed at the pain, but didn’t move.

“Yes, good, you’re doing excellent…” he mumbled, a look of concentration now on his face as he proceeded to clean the injury.

Heat rushed to your cheeks as you tried to process his words.

Was he praising you? For not flinching away?

…Why did you like it?

You decided to try and lock those thoughts away at the moment and let future you worry about them instead.

It was hard to pay attention to what he was doing, let alone stay awake. You were really only recognizing pain at this point.

It wasn’t until he was wrapping the injury that you notice him finishing up, and moving to your head.

“Hold still.” He spoke, and summoned a small orb of light. This time, you flinched, though a hand on the back of your head kept you from moving far.

“What-“

Gently, he shushed you, holding the orb a distance from your eyes, looking at your face closely.

Swallowing thickly, you were going to ask what he was doing, before the orb disappeared in a fit of smoke.

“Concussion. Just how long have you been walking around with these injuries?” He asked, his face scrunching up in concern as he looked at the bruising on your head, gently beginning to tend to it.

“Uh… since… this morning?” You rasped, wincing at your own voice.

“This morning!?” He suddenly halted, looking increasingly upset.

Coughing, you tried to avoid looking at his eyes.

“Live… far away. Had to get away.” You whispered, absently rubbing your throat, trying to ignore your heart trying to panic in your chest.

You briefly noticed his muscles tense, before he took a deep breath, and exhaled.

“I see.”

Your heart hammered in your chest, but it lessened a bit. Dracula at least didn’t seem mad at you. You may as well take that as a blessing.

Though it made you feel a bit odd, how angry your enemy was on your behalf.

…Was he even your enemy at this point? You weren’t entirely sure, not with how he finished tending to your head, and moved to the wound on your arm.

What enemies tended to the other, so gentle and careful?

Dracula didn’t even have to be gentle with you to take care of your wounds. He could have just done it without a care for your pain.

Yet, he was so careful, using precise movements with each injury to clean and bandage it with as little pain as possible.

Faintly, you remembered reading somewhere he had an interest in medicine. You imagine having eternal life certainly gave you the opportunity to learn and study any subject that came to mind.

A stinging pain brought you out of your clouded thoughts. Dracula had moved to your leg, carefully cleaning the wound there now for stitching.

You couldn’t help but stare.

Not only did he treat your wounds with precision, he looked beautiful doing so.

His hair beautifully cupped his face, while his hands worked expertly to stitch the injury.

It wasn’t a surprise, per se. Vampires had always been hauntingly beautiful. Part of the charm and the allure for prey.

But seeing Dracula alive in front of you, his hair cupping his face as it laid in waves on his shoulders…

Oh yeah. You had definitely lost a lot of blood if this is what you were thinking about.

A few moments of silence passed as you watched him.

What now? What will you do after he’s done?

Your blood felt cold at that thought.

You licked your lips.

“…”

Dracula’s eyes flickered up to you when you made a small noise.

“Am…” you spoke out, swallowing thickly in an attempt to wet your throat and swallow your nerves.

“Am I… a prisoner?” You asked, heart beginning to pound. However, you didn’t move, or even tense up.

It's not like you could do anything if you were, anyway. Not with these injuries and how exhausted you were. You were rescind to your fate.

Though you at least hoped he would be honest if he intended to keep you as a blood bag or something.

Dracula’s eyes bore into yours.

“No. You are my guest.” He spoke, his voice low and quiet.

Your eyes widened slightly.

A guest? You, a Belmont, as Dracula’s guest?

“Guest?” You repeated, almost unbelievingly.

He let out a noise of acknowledgement.

“You may leave at any point. Everyone is under orders not to attack you, unless you strike them first.”

His words, despite being so quiet, rang loudly in your ears.

You could leave at any time.

For some reason, just hearing those words relaxed you. Your body seemingly slumped in response, loads of tension leaving your body.

Dracula let out a pleased noise from his throat, at least, you think it was a pleased noise.

You just hoped he was being true to his word.

Did Dracula have any reason to lie? If he wanted you dead, he would have killed you the moment he was freed.

If he wanted you as a blood bank, you imagine he would have told you. He seemed like the type to mock you about it if that was his true intention.

You were so lost in thought, you almost didn’t hear knocking on the door.

A moment later, a maid walked in, carrying what looked like clothes.

“Here you are, my lord.” She spoke, and you eyed her warily.

You had heard about Dracula having servants. It was weird to see one now though after seeing an empty castle for so long.

She was short, with short black hair, but you knew she wasn’t human. Her purple eyes that glanced over at you were a dead give away.

It wasn’t clear what she was, but it didn’t matter in the end. She placed the clothes nearby on the bed, and gave Dracula a bow before leaving.

You eyed the clothes, before nearly jumping when Dracula spoke again.

“They are for you. I imagine you wouldn’t wish to sit in bloodied cloth.”

Blinking, you looked down, and winced.

He wasn’t wrong. Your clothes were trashed.

Parts of your outfit were shredded and cut, and the rest was soaked and crusty with blood.

Gross.

Though it made you wonder just how much willpower Dracula had for your blood soaked clothes not to be a bother.

Still… you were kind of touched he had requested clothes for you. You had no idea when or how he had done so, but given he didn’t have to do that, it was very considerate on his behalf.

It seems he must be serious about you being a guest, including taking care of you.

A weird thought to think about.

Though you were having many of those at the moment.

He was finishing up your stitches, when you decided to try and speak.

“U-Um…” you began, and quickly turned away to cough, cursing how sore and tired you were.

You turned back, and his eyes were on you again.

“Thank you.” You managed to say, trying desperately to come off as sincere despite the situation. You really did mean it, but the circumstances were definitely odd.

Dracula’s eyes seemed to flicker with an unknown emotion for a moment, before he turned back to your leg.

“Of course.”

It seemed like he wished to say more, but held back from doing so. Dracula was the one patching you up though, so you didn’t exactly wish to push him.

Not a moment later, he finished wrapping up your leg, and gathered the supplies and began to put them away.

When he stood up, you found yourself craning your neck to see him again, his eyes piercing into your own. This time though, they didn’t have as intense of a hellfire look as before.

You still felt incredibly small compared to him. It was hard to register just how massive and powerful this guy was, just from standing up straight.

“Dinner will be brought to you shortly. I highly recommend you rest before and after eating, if you can stomach it.”

He then gestured to a door in the room.

“You are welcome to use the room’s facilities as need be to clean yourself. If you require anything, tell the guards outside, and they shall let me know.”

Why did his voice have to sound like that? You found yourself growing so sleepy just from listening to it, from how deep and calming it was.

You really needed to rest if you were growing attached to this man’s voice.

Still, you gave him a nod, putting your hands in your lap.

“Thank you. I…”

You cleared your throat with a wince.

“I appreciate it.”

He nodded to you once, before turning and walking towards the door.

“I will return later to check on you after I have my affairs in order. Though if you do wish to leave, you may do so.” He spoke right before opening the door, reminding you once more you were not trapped.

You were still free to leave at any point.

After that, he left, the door closing on its own by some unseen force behind him.

You blinked, then blinked again.

“I… am so tired.” You whispered, your thoughts feeling like mush at the overwhelming day you have had. At this point, it was as if you were going numb, unable to properly react.

It was almost worrying how calm you felt.

But you were still so tired.

You glanced over to the pile of clothes, and looked them over. They seemed normal enough, a white button up and some loose pants.

With a yawn, you grabbed the clothes, and headed to the bathroom to clean up and change, barely registering how the clothes seemed to be the perfect size.

You didn’t hear the thump from outside the room.

Outside your room, Dracula had collapsed against the wall of the hallway.

Pressing his back against the wall, he clutched one of the bloodied bandages in his hands, shaking.

He lifted the bandage to his face, and held the cloth close, inhaling the sweet scent of your blood.

His Little Belmont’s blood.

It was both calming, and addictive. It took all his will power not to have a taste, lest he barge into your room for more.

He was hungry. Too hungry.

But your health came first. You looked to be on Death’s doorstep when you had walked into his throne room earlier, and he couldn’t sit by and do nothing.

Not now that he was free.

Taking another deep breath, he clenched the bloodied bandage in his hand, before putting it away in one of his pockets.

He needed to feast, and soon.

Sparing one more glance at the door, he sighed.

This isn’t how he had imagined gaining his freedom once more, but he was thankful it didn’t include your death.

For now though, he had plans to make. You obviously weren’t injured from a hunt, the look in your eyes said as much. No doubt you could have easily mentioned what beast it would have been that had attacked you if it were that simple.

No, someone had hurt you. Presumably someone you knew.

His eyes narrowed before he took to the shadows, ordering one of his servants for a drink as he reappeared and sat on his newly remade throne.

Someone hurt his Little Belmont.

As much as he would hate to admit it, he had grown attached to you.

Attached, and dare he say, protective.

He had always been protective of his things that were precious to him.

As of now, you were no different.

You had somehow wormed your way into his undead heart, simply from being yourself.

A servant stopped by, and handed him a filled wine glass, before bowing and leaving.

Taking a sip, Dracula enjoyed the burn of blood down his throat, before leisurely swirling the glass as he mused about this situation.

Yes, you were too much like Leon for your own good. He would keep you to your word, and talk with you later.

After you had healed, of course.

Your health was his main priority. Dracula wouldn’t put that pressure on you when it was clear you were barely hanging on by a thread.

Dracula would have some potions made for you as soon as possible. Unfortunately, it was a lengthy, and delicate process with alchemy. It would take take time, even for him.

But you needed it, badly.

It was obvious you were overwhelmed. No doubt from whatever happened, accidentally reviving him, and him trying to take care of you.

Putting more pressure on you at the moment would lead to possible rash decisions. He wanted you to be able to think clearly when having an in depth discussion, after all.

Taking another sip of his drink, he licked his lips.

Dracula had a feeling things were going to be interesting.

He just hoped it was for the better, rather than for the worst.

[helpyourselfwithcherrywine]