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Reading my own fanfiction is basically just a rollercoaster of emotional whiplash.

20% of the time: “Hold on. I wrote this? This is fire. This is emotionally devastating in the best way. This scene is dripping with tension. I’m a literary perfectionist. Someone give me a book deal.”

80% of the time: “Straight to jail. Immediate prison. Why is everyone’s breath hitching?. I used the word ‘gaze’ three times in one paragraph like I was possessed. Did I think 'his eyes darkened' was profound? Why is everyone clenching their jaws? Why is someone whispering 'their name like a prayer' again?? No one talks like this. What is this dialogue. Why are there so many weird metaphors and em-dashes…”

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Why do writers apologize for long fics? why aRE YOU SORRY FOR FEEDING US POOR, SORRY SOULS THE MOST BEAUTIFUL ARTWORK WE COULD EVER DREAM OF READING?? DO MICHELIN STAR CHEFS APOLOGIZE FOR COOKING THE MOST DIVINE FOOD EVER MADE??? DO THEY APOLOGIZE FOR NOURISHING OUR BODY AND SOULS????

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How it feels getting back into fanfiction and all my old interests again after going off them for a few months

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hii could I request “don’t yell at me in a language i don’t understand!” (romanian) and “please don’t cry, i’m sorry” with bucky barnes ?

Hey there 🖤 this was a hard one. My first Bucky request and I turned it into an angst 😭 thank you for the request, tho!

I hope you enjoy it. I promise I tried to avoid a sad ending as much as I could ❤️‍🩹 I'd recommend listening to "Tell me you love me" by Demi Lovato while reading.

WARNINGS/INFO: TW, Angst, slight trauma mention, PTSD, verbal conflict, emotional distress. Gender neutral reader.

Word count: 1.4k. Proofread? Yes in between tears.

The silence in the apartment you shared with Bucky had grown heavy, stretching thin between you and him for days now. It wasn't the cozy quiet you both cherished but the tense, breakable kind that came from unspoken burdens. He'd been quieter than usual, withdrawing behind distant eyes and shortened answers, and you'd tried everything. Gentle questions, silent presence, even just leaving him space. However, the wall he'd built around himself only seemed to grow taller.

Your own frustration, tinged with familiar, unpleasant anxiety, had started to fray your limits. You kept asking yourself if it was something you had done. Still, you and Bucky had established boundaries in your relationship. Your first rule was to always communicate rather than keep things to yourself.

At some point, you knew that the ticking bomb was about to explode. Tonight, it was the dishes that triggered it. A simple, ordinary task after a meal eaten with barely a word exchanged. You reached for a clean plate, placing it carefully in the drying rack. Bucky, next to you, scrubbing a pot, let out a low, almost imperceptible growl of frustration at something unseen. Then, with an uncharacteristic, harsh force, he slammed the pot into the sink, the metal clanging against porcelain with a loud, sudden crash that tore through the quiet.

You flinched violently, a cold fear gripping your chest. Your hand flew up, almost instinctively, shielding your face. The sound echoed, thundering in your bones, pulling you back, back to narrower halls and sharper voices, to the phantom clatter of thrown ceramic against walls. Not again, no. Your breath was shallow and rapid, and your eyes were wide with a terror that felt entirely out of place in your quiet kitchen, fixed on the pot.

Bucky's head snapped up, his own anger flaring at your sudden, extreme reaction. He saw your fear but misinterpreted it as defiance or perhaps just exasperation at his temper. "What?" he barked, his voice rough, eyes narrowing. "Are you just going to stand there and stare, or are you going to help me finish this?" His voice rose, framed with frustration, pushing past your growing panic until the words became mean.

"Nu o să mă lași singur!" he snarled, words you didn't understand tumbling out of his mouth, thick with a rage that shook you to your core. He was speaking Romanian, you knew that. He always compliments you in this native language whenever he feels like there's no appropriate expression for him to do so in English. However, that night, his sentences were far from a good thing. His voice was escalating, each unfamiliar syllable an intense blow, cutting through the thin shell of safety you’d built. You squeezed your eyes shut, closing your hands into fists, trying to block out the intense sounds, the echoes of a past you desperately tried to bury.

Tears, hot and painful, finally broke free, silently tracing paths down your cheeks. The shouting in your ears, a mix of his incomprehensible anger and your own childhood nightmares, became deafening. You opened your eyes, meeting his enraged gaze. Through the blurring fog of tears, you finally screamed, "Don’t yell at me in a language I don’t understand!” 

The scream tore through the kitchen. With all of your trauma coming back, you felt like you were back at your childhood home, where the walls were never too thick in your favor so you could avoid all the screaming and throwing around. Bucky froze. The rage in his eyes broke, replaced by a devastating wave of shock, then horror, as your words finally cut through the haze of his own rage and fear. He saw the tears now, and he saw the way your body was hunched, shielding yourself as if from a physical blow. Almost as if he burst back into reality, you noticed that his defenses were now down.

"No... no, please," he choked out, taking an irregular step towards you, his metal arm hanging limply by his side. The aggressive posture melted away, replaced by a desperate tremor. "Please don’t cry, I’m sorry." He reached for you, his hand trembling. Still, you flinched a little, involuntary recoil that hit him harder than any physical punch.

His hand dropped, leaving a gaping depth of space between you. His eyes, now wide with self-loathing, settled on your trembling form. He saw the way your breathing hitched, the way your shoulders shook, and in that moment, he didn't just see your fear of him; he saw the old, deep-seated panic that he had just woken. His own demons, unchained, had reflected yours. The realization stabbed him deeper than a knife ever could. Bucky knew about your past traumatic experiences just like you knew about his. The two of you never did - at least knowingly - anything to hurt one another based on your past.

You took a shaky breath, letting the remains of the old anxiety calm, then looked at him, looked at the man crumbling before you. He was hurting, yes, but his pain had just unleashed yours, violating the very trust you had built. This wasn't the first rule you'd set for him, for your relationship, but it was the one he had just broken most violently.

"Bucky," you said after a few seconds passed, your voice quiet but stable. You watched his eyes glued to the ground. In between heavy breaths, you gathered your strength, trying not to shake as much from stress. "We agreed. Communicate. Not... this." You gestured between the shattered dishes and his slouched shoulders. "We said we wouldn't hide. We said we would talk. This," you swept your hand towards the aftermath, "this is what happens when you don't."

His head bowed, the fight utterly gone from him. "I know. I'm sorry. I swear, I didn't mean to..." But you did.

“I know you didn't," you cut him off, taking a step towards him, narrowing the space he'd created, even as every fiber of your being screamed to retreat. You placed a firm hand on his sturdy metal arm, feeling the cold, then slid your fingers around to grip his hand, squeezing it gently. "But that doesn't make it okay, Bucky. And it's not okay for me to pretend it is."

He finally lifted his head, his eyes raw with guilt and despair. "I'm broken,” he whispered, the words tearing from him. "I'm a mess. I don't know how to fix it. Everything seems too intense right now.” 

"I'm not asking you to be fixed for me," you said, your voice softening, but your grip on his hand remained firm, a lifeline he needed to hold onto. "I'm asking you to work on it. For you. For us. And you're not doing that when you shut me out. This," you looked from his tormented face to your still-trembling hands, "this is not how we heal. This is not how we build a life. And I can't keep doing this if this is how it's going to be."

His gaze searched yours, desperate, and then hesitantly, he nodded. He knew. He understood. The silence returned, not tense this time, but heavy with the weight of the truth. There was no easy answer, no magic fix. But for the first time in days, the wall between you wasn't rising. It was simply... there, waiting for him to decide if he was finally ready to dismantle it. “I need someone on days like this,” he said. “I know, but I can’t protect my peace, yours, and our relationship if I allow you to do this every time and simply apologize and forget it happened.” He didn’t move a single muscle, processing what you had just said. 

You took a slow breath, the decision firming in your chest even as your heart ached. You gently released his hand. The heat immediately drained from the space between you, and you saw his eyes recognizing the implicit consequence of your touch slipping away. "I need some space tonight, Bucky," you said, your voice determined, the words a difficult boundary you had to draw. "To process this. To believe that this won't happen again, that we won't be here again." You didn't leave the apartment, but you turned and walked towards the bedroom. The distance now stretched between you, an extensive, heavy silence that felt louder than any scream.

He didn't follow. He didn't move. You heard the soft click as the bedroom door closed behind you, leaving him alone in the quiet kitchen. You lay in bed, tears falling again, silent and hot, for the battle you had just fought – and for the real, agonizing work that lay ahead. The fight was over. But the true, messy, and uncertain healing had just begun.

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╭ ⿻ ･ wake up call !!

ଓ.° ・ leon kennedy. resident evil. repost!

so here's the thing : leon s. kennedy is a light sleeper. an incredibly light sleeper, which isn't surprising-- what, given the nature of his career and everything he's ever had to endure.

oh? accidentally drop your phone on your face at an ungodly hour while he's sleeping next to you? he's awake. roll over in bed with utmost caution? he's awake.

breathe? oh, he's definitely awake.

you blindly reach for your phone on the nightstand, sleep very much still heavy on your eyes. you squint when you glance at the time, suddenly very hateful of your phone's auto brightness adjustment as it blinds you. that's certainly one way to wake up, huh?

the time reads 7:09am. you've got to leave for work in about 30 minutes, which is fine. no rush, no problem. except that--

well, except that leon is laying on top of you, head on your chest, lulled to sleep by the sound of your heart. it's become a habit of sorts-- the way he seeks comfort in your existence, the depth of your humanity an anchor & serenity in his life as you weave your fingers through his hair, slowly push him to the edge of slumber in peaceful means. it's reverent-- holy, you think, and had you not been working today, you think you would have been able to stay in bed with him all day.

"leon?" your voice is quiet, soft-- you wish to gently break his slumber, hand gingerly patting his back.

he doesn't wake up. you call his name again, pat him a little bit harder. he still doesn't wake. you're insistent on avoiding rude awakenings, so you try this for a few more minutes, no longer groggy and now filled with a slight determination.

7:16am. you need to get ready.

you lean your head back into the pillow, glare at the ceiling.

here's another thing : leon s. kennedy is also a liar.

heavy sleeper, my ass, you think. he tends to be clingier after returning from missions, which is entirely understandable, and you truly do not mind, but you really, really, don't want to deal with another scolding from your boss. you still entirely, listen to the sound of his breathing.

yeah. he's awake.

"leon s. kennedy. you are awake."

he holds his breath instinctively. you feel it.

"listen, pretty boy. i gotta get ready for work." your fingers run through his messy bed head. "i need you to move."

he doesn't move. doesn't even react. he keeps up the facade.

7:19am. jesus christ, leon.

you pinch the bridge of your nose, let out a sigh. you try-- keyword being try, to sit up, but suddenly he's so much heavier, and you realize that he becomes dead weight just to make this so much harder-- which says a lot, because he's already incredibly muscular, and god, you think you can win against those arms? think again.

"leon, i swear--"

"call in."

when you lie back down, a means of waving the white flag, he finally looks up at you, blue eyes gentle and exhausted. there's something so incredibly tender in the way his gaze meets yours, hand reaching for yours as if it's instinct. you're the one holding your breath now, swallowing hard when he smiles that reserved smile that only you have the pleasure of seeing.

"stay with me, please." he squeezes your hand, once, twice, three times, and somewhere in that means an i love you, and you both know this.

you can't win. you can never win against him.

7:27am. oh, whatever, it doesn't matter anymore, you think, so you set your phone aside, focus on leon instead.

he notices the conflict in your eyes, then a brief contemplation, and the quiet admittance of defeat. he feels your body relax beneath his as you squeeze his hand four times, the kindest of smiles falling on your lips.

"fine, pretty boy. guess i'm sick, huh?"

"got a cold?"

"hm? sure."

he grins-- that shy little grin that you love so much, and you pinch his cheek, the curl of your lips growing ever so slightly.

"what a shame," he murmurs, "guess i should warm you up."

"i lied. suddenly i feel fine. i'm going to work."

"no, wait--"

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Titan Fujin’s World

Checking notes

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I assure you: somebody, somewhere, is on the exact same wavelength as you are.

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where anakin chokes padawan!fem!reader with the force (he calls it flirting) after she teases him in a training session

— 🩰🎀

Hi there again 🩰 How do you even come up with this stuff? JDSAJKJADSKJ I'M DYING OVER HEREEE. I loved it and got wayyyy too carried away writing it. I hope you like it 😋 Keep these requests coming

WARNINGS/INFO: NSFW, +18 MDNI, Fem!Reader, smut, PWP, consensual, consensual kink, D/s & Force Kink.

Word count: 1.6k

The air in the training room crackled with something stronger than lightsaber energy. It was Anakin's steaming frustration. You'd just slipped past his guard, your training saber tapping his side before he could even react. "Still letting your emotions lead the fight, Master Skywalker?" you joked, a smirk playing on your lips. Lately, you have been faster than even Anakin could comprehend. And Anakin loved understanding how your body worked, inside and outside of the training sessions. 

His lightsaber hummed a low warning, almost vibrating in his grip. His jaw tightened, and his eyes, usually playful around you, narrowed just enough that your own smirk faltered. The easy banter suddenly felt very, very thin. 

The air around your throat tightened. Not painfully, but pleasantly weird enough. Your feet lifted an inch off the mat, and your breath hitched. Anakin's eyes held a familiar glint of challenge, and his lips curved into a slow, almost dangerous smile. Anakin was a powerful Jedi and a dangerous lover. When he realized that his force would turn you on whenever he used it slightly, he started doing it more frequently. When he first used it, you didn't move for a hot minute. He became too worried and asked if you were okay. He hesitated and almost promised he would keep things light in the training sessions. "Please don't, Master Skywalker. I enjoy it." And just like that, he understood your consent.

Now, he was doing it again. And this time, the pressure around your throat wasn't just his frustration or anger. It pulsed with dangerous heat, laced with a heavy, insistent craving that threatened to steal your breath for entirely different reasons. You gathered the strength you had left to challenge him with your face. Your whole body now calling for him. Right here, right now.

His steps grew closer, his grip not loosening for a second, and your cunt getting wetter every second. "You think you're smarter than me, faster than me. You couldn't be more wrong." He was inches from your face. Your feet now back to the ground, and you could move your body easily now. 

His gaze, dark and all-consuming, dropped to your mouth, then back to your eyes. You barely managed a shallow breath, your body arching almost imperceptibly towards him, lost in the overwhelming wave of sensation. And then, his mouth devoured yours. Not a gentle kiss but a desperate, consuming plunge that stole the air from your lungs and sent an electric current through every inch of your being. It was raw and demanding.

You met his ferocity with your own, hands twisting in his tunic, pulling him closer. The kiss deepened, pushing you to the very brink of conscious thought. His hands moved, gripping your hips, pulling you against the solid heat of his body. Anakin's hands didn't know where they wanted to go first. They were traveling under your top, his thumb caressing your breasts. Your nipples now visibly erected against your shirt. 

He loved pushing you to your breaking point. When training, he would be harsher on you than with others. Between closed doors, he would pound you so hard and so deep you could barely contain your loud moans. Your cunt was his. You want just the tip? Too bad! He would always be balls deep in you. Creaming you till your legs were sore. The other Jedi always thought you had crazy nightmares. If they only knew.

Anakin's hands were now in your pants. You made a note after one session to always come with pants that are easy to take off. IYKYK. His mouth now on your neck, his hands playing with the fabric of your panties. "Already so wet for me. You just love it when I hold you tight, don't you?" You could only hum at this point. If you tried to mouth any words, they would turn into whining. Making out sessions in your training arena were risky, and this was a delicious thrill for you two.

Anakin pushed your panties to the side and found your clit. His finger was now in circular motion while his other hand rose to your throat, and you felt the force tighten it up again. Your legs now trembling. "Be good, and I will let you cum when you want to so we can finish this lesson, okay?" You nodded, eager to comply. His fingers went from your clit to the lips. He closed his eyes when he felt how your entrance was so creamy. A mischievous smile forming on both of your faces. 

Without any warning, he put his two fingers in. You grabbed the tunic fabric around his neck, and you moaned with tears almost pricking your eyes. His movements were precise. He knew what he was doing and how to be in control. Each stroke of his fingers had you seeing stars.

"More," you cried. "More what?" He asked, the grip around your throat tightening more as things escalated. "Fu- fuck me faster with your fingers, Anakin" he obeyed your request. A request, never an order, because you were never in command. He started to kneel down in front of you. He took his fingers out of your dripping pussy, and you whined in protest. "Always so desperate to be fucked, you never learn."

He pulled your pants and panties down in one move, and his fingers were back inside of you. Now, his tongue was in your clit, sucking it like both of your lives depended on it. "Ohhhhh fuck Anakin, y-yes" You grabbed his hair, almost as if you were guiding his head, but he didn't need it. He knew exactly what to do.

"Ohhh I wanna cum so bad, please make me cum” You cried out loud. "Not yet!" His husky voice echoed from down there. "I'm almost…" and he stopped. You looked at him while he was back, standing up. "You are only," he turned you around, "coming,” he bent you over the edge of a nearby table, "when I let you," and his fingers were back inside of you for the third time.

His tongue playing in between your front and back. Your pussy dripped so much that you were sure someone could slip and fall. Your legs felt weak again, your head so light, as you soared on the edge of exquisite oblivion. "You taste so good. Why the fuck do you taste so good?"

Each stroke of his fingers was a deliberate, burning whisper against your skin, igniting a trail of fire you hadn't known could exist before meeting him. The pressure of his force, a silken cord around your throat, pulsed in time with your own frantic heartbeat, demanding every breath, every ounce of surrender. Your muscles clenched, an involuntary tremor starting deep in your core, threatening to spread through your entire body.

Your head fell back, a soft, helpless moan tearing from your throat – a sound you barely recognized as your own. The air in the room seemed to thicken, heavy with the scent of his skin and the raw power emanating from him. "Anakin, please, I…" "You can hold it for me, baby, just a bit more." You tried to think, to find some anchor, but your mind was dissolving into pure feeling. 

All your senses sharpened then blurred until there was only the overwhelming sensation of his touch, his presence, the relentless pressure that pushed you further and further into a dizzying abyss.

When he curled his fingers inside of you for whatever time it was, your hands gripped the sides of the table he bent you over. "Oh, you're so close." "Anak-Anakin, pl-please" He took his fingers out and put them back in, and the movement repeated for a minute. He felt your legs getting weaker and laughed "Now be good and cum for me," his fingers were now replaced entirely by his tongue. He was eating your pussy as if it was his private banquet.

Your body arched uncontrollably in response to the beautiful ache building inside, screaming for release. You were on the very precipice, legs now trembling so violently they threatened to give out completely, on the verge of snapping into a million pieces of pure sensation. Every sound was a choked cry of desperate pleasure. 

In one last movement, the force became extremely tight around your throat. It was a delicious pain, enough to make you come apart. You screamed, moaning his name without a care in the world, even when you shouldn't even be doing this in the first place. You felt your cunt pulsating, your whole body now practically collapsing on the table. 

The moment your weight settled, the pressure around your throat vanished, and the intense force presence receded, leaving the air lighter yet still buzzing with residual energy. You drooped against the cool surface, every muscle in your body quivering, your lungs desperate for air. Anakin's arms were there instantly, pulling you securely against his chest, holding you upright as your knees genuinely threatened to buckle.

He buried his face in your hair, a low, shaky breath escaping him. His own heart hammered a frantic rhythm against your ear. The silence stretched, filled only by your irregular breathing and the soft, comforting brush of his uniform against your cheek.

Slowly, his grip gentled, his hand coming up to cup your jaw, tilting your face up to meet his gaze. His eye now softened with a deep affection, a vulnerability that stole your breath for an entirely different reason. A faint, knowing smile played on his lips.

"You almost broke me, padawan," he whispered, his voice rough with spent passion and barely leashed hunger. "Almost." But the words were laced with such soft affection, such possessive pride, that you knew he was just as undone as you were.

You leaned into his touch, a contented sigh escaping your lips. The training room, once a place of frustration and challenge, now felt like the most intimate, safest space in the galaxy, wrapped in the comforting warmth of his presence. This was your secret. Your dangerous, beautiful secret.

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I’m never emotionally recovering from this

Cogito, ergo sum

from Latin "I think, therefore I am"

Basim Ibn Ishaq x GN!reader

Prompt: Basim survives the temple

Warnings: Implied NSFW at the end

Word count: around 4k (big boi)

The cliff is his safe space.

It has been ever since he first arrived at Alamut. You remember meeting the young man he used to be, a clumsy thief with a shy stubble that paled in comparison to the beard he’d grown throughout his training. It made him look wiser, you supposed. And wise he was, for he was educated by none other than the silence of the mountains and the sword of Roshan.

He was a smart man, but going into the temple was not a smart choice at all. Roshan had tried to stop him and failed. She walked out of the temple with a limp, holding her shoulder and her side as her head hung low in shame – defeated by her own student, her son, in a way. She couldn’t bear to look you and the other novices in the eye. 

But that was okay, because you couldn’t look at her either. You couldn’t look away from the mountain that stood tall before you all, the grinning cave that held Basim’s life over your heads.

He wasn’t coming back, Roshan said. You didn’t listen. Didn’t move, didn’t acknowledge the novice who tried to pull you away from the cave. You heard your mentor’s footsteps grow distant as the murmurs of the hidden ones mourned a new loss. You’d almost joined in their whispered prayer when you saw it – a wheezing figure stepping out of the cavern, hand pressed against the rock as they kept their gaze low. You rushed to meet them halfway.

It was him. Basim. The matted jet black hair was hard to miss, along with his beige and blue robes. His brown doe eyes flickered and met yours, but before you could reach him, he put his hand up and yelled at you to stay away. His stance had become defensive, a shaky hand resting on the handle of his sword, as his eyes watched you and your friends with wariness.

You frowned; called out his name and watched as the grip on his sword tightened. Those eyes of his didn’t regard you with the same warmth they used to. They were scared, angry, and untrusting. His lips that would smile so often were pulled down into a snarl and his brows were etched into a scowl. His body, once so sure and confident in his walk, trembled under your gaze. 

Before you could say anything, he ran. He climbed up the cliff with the expertise of a man who had endured years of training, or with the velocity of a lizard who feared for his life. The tails of his robes whipped in the wind when he reached the summit and disappeared from your view.

But he hadn’t run away. He lingered in his trusted spot by the cliffside. Rayhan would watch him from his tent and study his behavior. In the mornings, Basim would sit to meditate. It wouldn’t last long before he’d start to pace, hands in his hair before he’d yell up at the sky, fall to his knees, and throw rocks against the floor. After his fit, he’d try to sit still again, fail, and do it all over again.

When night fell, he’d crawl down the cliffside and rummage through the baskets of food you and the other novices had purposely prepared for him. He avoided you like the plague – whatever had happened inside that temple, whatever he’d seen, had shook him to his core. It was enough to haunt his mind even when one of his old friends attempted a conversation with him during one of his nightly visits, and he’d only granted them a glare. You kept your distance, watching from your seat near the fire, when he looked at you, frowned, and left to return to his cliff again.

It broke your heart. He loved that cliff, he’d found peace there during his troubled past, but now it only seemed to isolate him. But that was the point of meditation, wasn’t it? Keeping the world out, silencing your mind? If it worked for him then, why couldn’t it work now?

He needs time, Rayhan told you one day. You both watched from his tent as Basim had finally settled down after pacing for hours – he sat criss-crossed, hands resting on his lap as he breathed out. He lasted 3 hours like that. You found yourself smiling at the sight.

Maybe meditation did work.

Months go by. Winter greets Alamut with a snowstorm that would put the Gods to shame, but the canyon protects your stalls, tents, and beds from the howling wind above. You think the harsh temperatures will lure Basim down from his lair, but you grow concerned when the snow starts to pelt down on you and there is no sign of him anywhere. The spare pelts and blankets in your tent call out to you, and without thinking it much, you strap them to your back and go look for him.

You find him halfway through your climb. He was smart enough to flee from the icy winds in the mountains, and found shelter in a little panhole on the side of the cliff. He’s setting up his own tent when you call out his name. He turns to face you with a bewildered look, like it’s his first time seeing another human in his life, when you give him the folded blankets and pelts.

“You’re going to need these.”

He takes them from you, eyes flickering over your face, and whispers a soft thank you.

You give him a small smile, because those two words are enough to make your heart soar and jump around – but you don’t want to scare him. You’re about to leave when he says your name.

“How are you still here?”

You shrug.

“I never left.”

He frowns at that, although it’s not the same frown he wore when he first came out of the cave. It’s the kind of frown that tells you he’s thinking, mulling over your words, wanting to believe them. You believe them, because you know the Hidden Ones would never leave him behind like that; and without saying much more, you part ways again.

The snow melts and gives way to the blooming flowers. You’re helping Rebekah fix the handle of a sword when someone taps your shoulder – Basim stands behind you, giving you a quick smile that barely peeks out of his blue scarf. It disappears just as quick as it comes, but it leaves you breathless nonetheless.

He asks about Rayhan’s whereabouts, and you can only point him in the right direction as words fail you. It’s the first time you see him talking to others of his own volition; and when he leaves after voicing his gratitude, you turn to look at your blacksmith friend. She’s looking at you slack-jawed.

Basim starts coming down more often since then. Just a month ago, he’d joined you by the campfire while Nur told a story. You’d patted the empty seat next to you, and when his lips stretched into his usual warm smile, your heart squeezed.

You’d missed him.

Speaking of Nur, you saw him talking to Basim on the cliff just this morning. They were rekindling their friendship as Nur showed him the tapestry he’d been working on all winter. If he’d gone up there unannounced, maybe you could try talking to Basim too, right?

That’s exactly what you do. I’m in control of the story.

He’s sitting close to the edge, looking at the setting sun, when you stop behind him. He spares you a glance, as if he’d been expecting you, before patting the empty spot next to him, just like you had done with him. You carefully sit down when he speaks.

“It looks beautiful from here, does it not?”

You hum and nod. “I  can see why you like it so much.”

“It is very freeing to experience life from these heights. Down there, we’re so small.”

Your lips stretch into a smile – he’s starting to sound like himself again, with his wise and philosophical words. It itches at the thorn that’s been stuck in your heart since he grew distant from you all, and you find your words leaving you before you can register them.

“I missed you.”

His expression falters at that, and a saddened tint floods his gaze.

“I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to apologize for.”

“I do. I was not myself when I left that cave.” he whispers, grimacing. “I was never myself, it seems.”

You stretch your legs out, nudging his boot with yours. He smiles wryly at your attempt to comfort him.

“What makes you think that?”

“What was revealed to me at the temple…” he gestures with his hand, but no words come out, and he promptly drops it. “My life was not meant for me to live.”

“I do not understand.”

“You must think me mad. Even now, I do not quite believe it myself.” he scoffs, eyes glazing over. “I was just a vessel, a fool fighting against nature.”

There is not much you can do for him, you think. Not much you can understand, either. Until Basim doesn’t fully capture what troubles his mind, you doubt you’ll be able to get through his defenses. But with him, it’s different. Basim sows and reaps, builds and destroys – the walls he’s built around himself stand tall before you, but they’re no match for him. They’re like overgrown weeds he needs to pull out. In his novice years, he used to speak of the power and danger of one’s own mind; and he seemed to be heeding his advice even after all this time, for he continued to speak despite your silence.

“There was this… machinery inside the temple. Nehal told me to open it, and when I did–” he swallows. “It was pain after pain, memories that threatened to claim me, fears that broke my very soul. And then, when I was begging for it all to end, praying to be let out– Nehal wasn’t there anymore.”

You frown. “Your friend?” he nods in response.

“She was never there.”

“She was gone?”

“She wasn’t real.”

He rakes his hand through his hair as he hisses through his teeth, like the revelation itself burdens his heart soul. You watch in awe at the raw display of emotions as he frowns and his hoarse voice speaks up once more.

“I lived a lie. It was all my fault. I killed the Caliph, I dug my own grave, led myself into the very trap fate had woven for me.” 

A tentative hand rests on his forearm, and you squeeze to break him out of his trance. Basim turns to look at you, bearing the look of a man drowning in despair and needing it all without knowing what he yearns for. 

“And yet, you live.” you whisper.

He sighs in return. “I live.”

“I understand why you were so defensive when you left the cave.”

He shakes his head, looking at the setting sun that paints the sky in a purple hue.

“I thought I was imagining you all. Sometimes, I fear I still do.” he looks at you, frowning. “If I believed Nehal was real my entire life, what was stopping me from believing you were real, too?”

“I don’t recall ever meeting your friend.” you think out loud. “Did she ever interact with anyone other than you?”

“She was a very private person.” he speaks like he misses her. “Nehal didn’t like meeting new people.”

You give him a sad smile. Even in the face of reality, it’s hard letting go of a beautiful lie.

“But you see us talking to other people. I talk to you, but also to Fuladh, or the merchants in Baghdad. They’re real - and I’m real too.”

“For the longest time, I thought maybe I was imagining it all. That you were all a fragment of my imagination.” he shakes his head. “I failed to see the line that separated reality from fiction. When I was in that temple, I thought my entire life was a lie. I was trapped in a void, but then I saw this light - and I ran and ran, thinking I could escape from it all.”

Basim is ranting now as the words come more naturally to him. His gestures become more frantic as he turns to look at you, eyes wide like the day you saw him stumble out of the cave.

“But then I saw you, and I thought I was still trapped. Eventually with time, I came to think you would all disappear.” he stops, and his gaze softens. “And yet, you’re still here.”

You whisper. “I’m here.”

His eyes linger on you for a moment, before he nods and looks at the horizon again. The sky is dark by now, and you smile at the memory of Basim teaching you and your friends about astronomy. He’d learnt it all when he taught himself to read in the House of Wisdom, but unlike the scholars that demanded an audience to witness their greatness, Basim taught for the pleasure of teaching. Whatever he’d read during his time in Baghdad or witnessed in his past lives had definitely made him wiser beyond his years. If there is a God, he’s been generous with Basim – all that knowledge has fallen into the right hands.

But his usual passion for the stars is dormant now. You glance at him, taking note of his silence as he resumes his meditation, and take that as your sign to give him some space again. You’re sitting up when you feel his hand grasping your forearm, but when you look at him again, he doesn’t react. But the hand doesn’t relent either, and so, you decide to settle down again.

It’s quiet between you, and it makes his whispered words so much louder. They’re a promise of a better future.

I missed you, too.

Summer comes and goes, and trees start to shed their yellowed cloaks again when Basim decides to move out of the cliff. It’s a misty morning, courtesy of the rainy weather in autumn, when you see him walking down the slope towards your tent. He’s carrying his rolled-up mattress and tent with him, sparing you a smile when you approach him with a big grin of your own. Perhaps your excitement is a bit too palpable, because his brows raise in amusement when you ask to help him carry his things – but you’re too distracted to notice, ranting about an oh-so convenient spot right next to your tent, and he promptly follows after you.

But the muddy slope demands a sacrifice, and your foot slips in front of you. Years of training abandon you as you reach for the slippery boulder next to you, but you miss once more. A hand holds you by your cloak, but it’s too late, you’re falling forward and hoping the mattress in your arms will break your fall, and then – the mattress grunts?

You look up, feeling the familiar fabric of robes under your cheek. Basim has taken the brunt of the fall, cupping the back of your head with his hand as his other arm wraps around you. It’s almost comical when you both look at each other, slowly sliding down the last inches of the slope as your robes get caked with mud. And then, he laughs.

It’s a low chuckle, but it makes his chest shake nonetheless – you can feel it reverberating beneath you, and you find yourself grinning at the sound. You’re sure it’s the first time you’ve heard it in over a year.

So much for a Hidden One, he says. You huff in response, shifting in his embrace when you feel the hoop of your belt digging into you, but not leaning too far away from him either.

His eyes are lidded now, and his smile has softened. You can’t look away. Basim’s hand reaches up and his thumb brushes the corner of your brow, removing dirt from your face, you assume – but all he manages to do is smear it even more.

You don’t really care about the mud, anyway. Something has changed between you two, and you’re sure he can feel it, too. It’s obvious in the way he refuses to let go of you, the way he looks at you. You tell yourself that the mud is heavy on your back, that it weighs you down and pulls you closer to him – and he doesn’t resist it either, especially not when his lips barely brush against yours. You’re about to press closer when Rebekah’s voice speaks behind you two.

“Is the floor comfortable?”

Winter is relentless once more. You’ve all hitched your tents closer to one another to preserve warmth, even knitted some more scarves to protect yourselves from the chilling bite of the wind. The bonfire is bigger than ever, it could easily give your location away to your enemies, but only fools would venture all the way to Alamut during wintertime and expect to survive – both the weather and a clan of trained assassins. 

You’re more than safe, both from outsiders and the elements. Your hidden blade is always strapped to your forearm, and as for the elements? There 's Basim.

He makes sure to save you a spot by the fire, and has a woolen blanket for those particularly colder nights. Sometimes, when he’s feeling extra nice, he offers you a cup of tea, too.

His tent is right next to yours and you always catch him reading a book late at night or early in the morning, swaddled under the bundle of blankets. He can always tell someone is watching him, and when he makes eye contact with you, he never fails to give you a wink.

It’s an ongoing thing. You really don’t know what’s happening – but you get your answers soon enough.

The fire that keeps Alamut warm needs to be fed, and Rayhan refuses to have people venturing out into the snowstorm alone to collect firewood. Thus, he sends you in pairs, for two people can look out for each other and carry more wood back to the tents. 

You’re used to the ruthless weather in Alamut – sandstorms are no match for you, nor the heaviest of rains. But there is something about snow that weakens and tires your body without even trying. You’re shoving the wood into your robes and arms before the cold catches up to you, but your movements become slower with each second, and Basim notices. He grabs your bicep and raises his voice over the hissing gale, signaling that it’s time to go back.

You don’t remember how much time you’ve spent outside, but when you return to the shelter, your damp robes are weighing down on you. The cold has seeped in, stiffening your limbs, and you promptly drop the wood close to the fire to dry for tomorrow.

The warmth in your tent has never been so inviting. The small torch lit by your mattress is the only source of light, bathing the space in a dim orange hue as you change out of your robes and put on some dry ones. It’s still cold, and the goosebumps on your skin make you hiss when the sensation of a hundred needles pricks your skin.

Someone clears their throat outside your tent before the tent flap is lifted – Basim is standing there, now wearing dry robes too. He smiles at you when you greet him and he nods at your damp clothes.

“I put mine by the fire to dry. Do you want to give me yours?”

You nod and he leaves with your robes in hand, but returns soon after with a bronze cauldron in hand and a towel on his shoulder. You eye him, confused, and it’s only when he sets it down before you that you notice the steam coming from the water inside.

“Nur thought we could use it to get warm.” he explains as he sits down next to you. He grabs the towel and dips it into the cauldron before wringing it out, getting rid of the excess water. 

“That’s nice of him.” you smile.

“It certainly is.”

He holds the damp towel out to you, but you frown.

“What about you?”

“What about me?”

“You don’t have a towel?”

He huffs out a laugh at that, shrugging.

“He only gave me one. You take it.”

“No, no – you take it, Basim.”

“I have not come here to argue with you.” he whispers, and presses the towel closer. “Besides, you need to get warm more than I do. You seemed to be struggling out there.”

He 's right. The needles on your skin dig deeper when the hot steam dances before your eyes, so close yet so far away. You’re about to take the towel from him when you feel a soft warmth blooming on your temple.

Basim gently presses the towel onto your skin, eyeing your locks, now damp from the melted snow. Your body immediately reacts to the touch – the needles ease, your fingertips tingle, and against your better judgment, you lean into his touch. 

The cotton moves down your face, where Basim softly caresses your cold cheeks. Warm droplets roll down, but they soothe and feed the bumps on your skin, like flowers craving water after a dry summer day.

This isn’t something that the other paired novices did for each other when they went out looking for wood. 

But Basim isn't like the others, is he? He stands out from them in the way he thinks, speaks, cares for others, looks at you, touches you. 

The heat from the towel tickles your skin, or perhaps it’s your own cheeks burning at the revelation. He moves down to carefully rub the silky cotton around your neck, easing the cold that has nestled there and weakened your voice. His body leans slightly closer to gain better access, and his other hand rests on your knee for support. Without thinking it twice, you nestle his hand between yours.

It’s cold, much colder than you expected, but you feel it relax in your hold when your fingers intertwine with his. He continues to bathe your skin with the warm towel, eyes following every motion as your gaze is trained in your conjoined hands. It’s been minutes now, and you can’t feel him warming up yet, but your body is burning under his touch and attention. Your mind is foggy, your tongue loose, and your words tumble out before you can stop them.

“You should get warm, too.”

The towel pauses, but then you hear him hum. His eyes are on you now, lidded, you notice – and they slowly trail down the peak of your nose, down the cupid’s bow, all the way to your lips. They remain fixed there, fluttering when he notices you lean closer, and he whispers back.

“Maybe I should.”

Your lips brush against each other, just like that day at the muddy slope. But there is no one around to interrupt the two of you, no storm to keep you apart; and with a shaky exhale, Basim’s lips lock with yours.

He is a patient man by nature, but this kiss – it cries of overdue affection. You’re kissing like this is the only thing that can satiate your hunger, a hunger beyond the carnal dimension. It’s the kind of need that has been boiling up to this point for months, years, even – long before he’d stepped foot in that cave. It was always there, dormant.

The towel drops to the ground with a thump. His hands find your hips and cup your cheek as your breathing quickens, and he only spares you a second to breathe before he starts to pepper kisses along your jaw. Your hands find his scalp and you gently massage it with your nails, making him groan against your skin; and when his hand sneaks under your blouse, you smile at the warmth his touch now radiates.

The next time he kisses you, he tastes like glass. Like there are broken shards that cut his tongue and make his words bleed while he sings you praises. The illusion is broken, the mirror destroyed; for his touch is real, he is real, and so are you, and so are the kisses that you keep stealing from each other.

Your arms wrap together and bring you closer to each other as he pushes you back against your mattress. The cauldron is long forgotten, the warm water no longer needed as you both breathe the same hot air and look at each other like you’re drunk on wine. Soon, your clothes come off, strewn somewhere on the floor. You lose yourself in the embrace of love, lips swollen and unrelenting; and in the privacy of a flimsy tent, you and Basim become whole again.

[t1track]

Omg hi!! So happy to see someone writing for mk. Is it alright to request (gender neutral) reader doing flirty intros with fujin and kung lao? Or maybe noob!

intros with fujin, kung lao & noob saibot - flirty edition!

overview: intros the reader could have with fujin, kung lao & noob saibot - flirty edition!

pairing: fujin, kung lao & noob saibot x gender neutral reader, romantic

genre: fluff, spice, slight angst

a/n: hey anon! of course! i had a blast writing this! thanks for the request. i hope you love it! (someone needs to catch the oppenheimer reference i snuck in here.)

x fujin

(Y/N): How’s the braid?

Fujin: You did a great job on it.

(Y/N): Can I become your braider from now on?

(Y/N): What’s it like being a demigod?

Fujin: Sometimes, I wish I could lead a simple life… with you. 

(Y/N): Your purpose is greater than that, Fujin. 

Fujin: I never thought I’d feel this way for anybody.

(Y/N): It hurts, doesn’t it?

Fujin: Like the wind, I must keep flying away, but I will always pass by you. 

(Y/N): You almost seem like a mortal to me. 

Fujin: How so?

(Y/N): Cause you’re bearable, unlike Raiden. 

Fujin: Your eyes are captivating, Y/N.

(Y/N): Have you seen yours?

Fujin: I guess they are pretty bright, aren’t they?

(Y/N): What’s it like to fly?

Fujin: A breath of fresh air. 

(Y/N): If I win this, you’re taking me flying. 

(Y/N): I can’t imagine the weight of the responsibilities you carry. 

Fujin: I certainly have a lot of people to protect. 

(Y/N): You protect them, and I’ll protect you.

Fujin: You’re strong and capable. 

(Y/N): Much like yourself. 

Fujin: Yet I’m not powerful enough to quit yearning for you. 

(Y/N): Could you blow a gust of wind my way? I’m sweating. 

Fujin: What’s got you so clammy?

(Y/N): Being around you. 

(Y/N): I wanna be as cool as you someday.

Fujin: You have a lot to learn, Y/N.

(Y/N): I bet you could teach me.

Fujin: You mean a lot to me. 

(Y/N): Not enough, by the looks of it. 

Fujin: You could learn something by doing this.

x kung lao

(Y/N): You’ve got an impressive physique. 

Kung Lao: Tell me something I don’t know.

(Y/N): Not even a ‘thank you’?

Kung Lao: Does this count as our first date?

(Y/N): Do you see me kicking your ass as a date?

Kung Lao: Bold of you to think you’re gonna win.

(This is based on an intro in the MK11 game!)

Kung Lao: Double date with Liu Kang and Kitana?

(Y/N): I’d rather just go with you. 

Kung Lao: You know I could never deny you that. 

(Y/N): Don’t get ahead of yourself, Kung Lao.

Kung Lao: I’m beating that prank, just wait!

(Y/N): Just admit that I’m the better prankster. 

(Y/N): C’mon, quit frowning so much!

Kung Lao: You like my smile that much?

(Y/N): And your dimples. 

Kung Lao: You need to know your worth.

(Y/N): That means a lot coming from Mr. Cocky himself. 

Kung Lao: My cockiness is justified. 

(Y/N): Don’t go easy on me!

Kung Lao: I won’t - I see what you’re made of.

(Y/N): So you’re admitting I’m winning?

Kung Lao: C’mon, sweetheart, you know you want me.

(Y/N): This is the fifth time you’ve asked this week. 

Kung Lao: Not one date?

Kung Lao: Well, you look stunning.

(Y/N): You don’t look so bad, yourself. 

Kung Lao: We are one good-looking duo. 

x noob saibot

(Y/N): I don’t think you’re all that evil. 

Noob Saibot: Think again, Y/N.

(Y/N): I see you, Bi-Han. 

Noob Saibot: Join me in the Netherrealm. 

(Y/N): You’re too weak to kill me.

Noob Saibot: You will be beside me eventually.

Noob Saibot: Death has no allies.

(Y/N): You don’t scare me.

Noob Saibot: You know I do, Y/N.

(Y/N): It’s painful to see you like this. 

Noob Saibot: Now that I’m more powerful than ever?

(Y/N): Now that you’re heartless.

(Y/N): You’ve become a vessel of yourself. 

Noob Saibot: I have become death himself. 

(Y/N): Bi-Han isn’t “death himself.”

Noob Saibot: I felt something for you.

(Y/N): Felt?

Noob Saibot: Death doesn’t feel. 

Noob Saibot: Your soul is the one I want the most. 

(Y/N): As long as you’re like this - you’re not getting it.

Noob Saibot: Dare deny your precious Bi-Han?

Noob Saibot: I used to feel.

(Y/N): I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you.

Noob Saibot: You’re the only one I felt something for.

(Y/N): What is it you want, Bi-Han?

Noob Saibot: I want your soul.

(Y/N): Even when you’re dead, you want me.

[t1track]

Hey! Idk if you still take request, but I have one for you. I love your posts sm. Anyway, may I request some headcanons with the Lin kuei trio and Liu kang and how they would react to you kissing them on a mission to not get caught (like that scene in captain America: the winter soldier) while they actually have a crush on them? Thank you!

A/n: Okay, I'm back, and I'd love to! It's nice to do another Lin Kuei bros head canon. I swear to God these men are gonna put me in a mental asylum with how obsessed I am with them.

Tags: Request, Mortal Kombat, Mk1, Lin Kuai bros x readerp, GN reader, fluff

C/w: Allusions to murder, sloppy kissing, tsundere, PDA

Bi-Han

You've never been far from the Grandmaster's thoughts. He has always viewed in a favorable light, though he hardly ever showed it.

As far as you were concerned, you thought he hated you.

So it is a surprise when he chose you to come with him on this mission.

To pursue your target meant you had dawn normal clothes and go undercover.

Which causes you to end up at a mall while following them. It wasn't a problem for you, frankly you were excited at the chance to shop and enjoy the food court.

You follow your target the mall, dipping in and out of clothing departments and hiding in the electronics department.

You had to get them into a private place to get them.

It's tedious and annoying with how long it takes...for Bi-Han. You on the other hand take great joy looking around, admiring how clothes look on mannequins, staring at the endless rows of books, staring in awe of the endless option of the food court.

Much to Bi-Han's annoyance.

Bi-Han takes this mission much more seriously than you do, his stay on the target like a hawk, against your advice not to or else he'd risk looking suspicious.

But finally Bi-Han's constant staring pays off when he notices the target leaving to somewhere more private, a perfect place to get them.

Bi-Han grabs your arm and snatches you away from the food court, pulling you away from an unfinished cinnamon roll and drags to follow the target, on the escaladder.

You are just a few feet away from them, far enough to not look suspicious, but close enough to get a clear view of them.

And they you, something both quickly learn when they begin to turn their head to look back in your direction.

Knowing Bi-Han, you knew your Grandmaster would look the target dead in the eyes, basically telling the target that they were being followed. This would compromise the mission, so you act quickly.

Just as the target turned around and saw you, you turned to Bi-Han, grabbed him, and snatch him forward and kiss him.

Bi-Han doesn't respond at first as your lips crash against each other. But a moment later his arms snake their way around your waist and pulls you closer. He hungrily kissed you, making himself acquainted with your lips as well as your tongue.

Bi-Han's mind went silent as you kissed him and he you. Elder Gods knew he would fantasize about this, not exactly while on a mission, but he would be a fool if he didn't advantage of this.

You are so distracted with each other that you lose sight of your target.

"Keep moving, we can't lose them." He coldly grumbles as he jumps off the escaladder and angrily marches away, but saying another thing to you.

When things were all said and done, when the mission was finished, you felt an uneasy tension between you and the grandmaster.

"Grandmaster, about the...about the thing, I-" but Bi-Han interrupts you, yelling at you to be silent, making you feel even worse.

Later, you are in your room, replaying all the events that passed today. Bi-Han hasn't said a single thing to you since you returned from your, mission.

You felt your face flush as you think of the fact that you keep kissing your Grandmaster, you can't stop thinking about it.

Did he like it? Are you in trouble? Is he going to punish you?

Suddenly, you hear a knock on the door. You hastily open the door and find no one there. But at your feet you find a cinnamon roll just like the one you were eating at the mall, and a beg next to it filled with clothes and books you were looking at in the mall.

Surprised, you stare at it for a few moments before bringing it into your room.

You stare at it in surprise as you drop the things onto your desk.

Perhaps the Grandmaster was much more fond of you than you thought.

Kuai Liang

From the moment he saw you, Kuai Liang knew he was in love with you.

It's subtle, but you can tell with the way he would fall silent when you were in the room, or would

So it was quite the surprise when he insisted that you join him in this mission.

Kuai Liang notices your eyes light up when you say that the mission requires you to go to a mall. He thinks it's so cute, he feels his smile trying to find its way onto his face.

He forces a stern look on his face as he reminds you that you both need to stay focused, that the target was your main concern.

He is similar to Bi-Han in the way he stays in a constant state of vigilance. Following the target around, being sure to always have them in his sight.

But unlike his brother he lets loose a little.

He tries on hats and glasses, admiring himself in the mirror, admiring you as you flip through the clothes on the racks.

He grabs a book from the shelf of the bookstore and curiously flips through it.

He even buys both of you lunch at the food court as you wait for the target to be in a vulnerable position to strike.

While you enjoy your meal, Kuai notices that the target is getting away, down the escaladder.

Of course, the Ninja immediately springs to action, quietly excusing himself with an excuse that he had to use the bathroom. He saw you were having a good time and his didn't want ruin it.

He is light on his feet and as he pursues the target, purposefully waiting for a few more more to get on the escaladder before getting on to avoid suspicion.

The escaladder carries them closer and closer to the lower floor and Kuai's eyes never leave the target for a second.

He doesn't realize just how intense his gaze is, if the target turned around and saw him, it would be.

It's unfortunate then that the target almost immediately turned around. By the time they would turn around they would see Luai looking at them with intensity and they would quickly realize that they were being followed, ruining the mission.

Thankfully, you happened. You immediately knew what Kuai was doing and followed after him. He didn't notice that you were right behind him.

Acting quickly, you shift past Kuai onto the extra step of the escaladder in front of him, and you kiss him.

Kuai took a surprise at first. He froze. Just standing there as you kissed him. He felt your soft lips press up against him and he felt his brain melt.

Body responded for him, pressing himself closer to you as he hands grab you and pull you close.

You quickly get to the end of the escaladder and jump off, Kuai still looks at you in a state of shock.

"Come on, they're getting away!" You say as you quickly pursue the inspecting target.

Kyai Liang touched his lips as he processed what just happened. "I'm right behind you." A smirk spreads onto his face as he races after you.

Afterwards, when the deed is done. You and Kuai Liang have no choice but to go back to the Artika now that your mission is finished.

Your sadness about having to leave isn't lost on Kuai. He himself enjoyed his time with you.

After a brief moment of silence on the way back, you awkwardly apologize for kissing him to abruptly.

Kuai only smiles. "Don't be...ever." he says placing a warm hand on your shoulder.

"We should do it again some time." Your eyes widen at this. "The mall, I mean." It was obvious that Luai didn't mean just the mall.

With an innocent smile on his face, Kuai walks ahead of you. Leaving you behind with a stunned look on your face.

Tomas

Tomas has tried to get your attention for the longest, trying his best to impress you. Unfortunately, everything either came off as him just being nice to you are him.

Other than that though, you two were close.

So it was no surprise that he asked you to come with him.

You thought it was just another mission. A mission where you'd go to the mall your target was located at and 'get 'em'. Meanwhile Tonas saw this as a chance to have a good time with you like this was a date, maybe even confess how he feels.

He was so happy to see how excited you were at going to the mall, he himself was excited. He was as serious about this mission as Kuai, or Bi-Han, or any member of the Lin Kuei would. But even he liked a moment to relax and enjoy an experience.

Tomas especially loved the bookstore. He was practically glued to the comic book and manga sections. You two were so distracted that the target slipped out of your sight once in a while.

But Tomas wasn't worried, he was always good at hunting something or someone down. He found the target again and again, then you'd carry on with your shenanigans.

You were surprised with how lenient Tomas was with you. He let you try on clothes, look at the computer, he even bought things for you. You told him he didn't have to but he insisted.

Things were going quite well for you two. Until I finally felt the courage to express himself to you.

"So, Um, Y/n." You were at the food court, your target sat themselves down here to eat lunch, so you both say a few tables away. His eyes stayed glued to the table, too embarrassed. "There's a reason why I wanted you to come with me." You eagerly leaned in close to hear. He waits a few moments, unsure what to say next.

"Well, you see..." Suddenly, Tomas's eyes widen in horror as he looks at the target. The problem? This isn't your target, you've been following the wrong person. "We need to go. Now!" He races out of the food court. His eyes immediately spotting the target getting on the escaladder.

He races to the escaladder, you not being far behind. You both try to act casual as you step onto the moving stairs, but Tomas's sure you both accidentally got the target attention.

His fear is confirmed when the target turns their head to look behind them.

In seconds they'd see you two behind them and panic.

So you act quickly, grabbing Tomas and kissing him.

Tomas's mind goes numb as fireworks go off in his thoughts. His hands, unsure at first, travel across your body until one finds their way to the small of your back and other cradling the back of your head.

Once again, you both got distracted and the target got away.

You break away from the kiss and jump off the escaladder. "Come on, they're getting away." You say, trying not to scream.

Tomas merely dumbly nodded as he followed after you. "U-um, okay." He hopes there isn't too much blushing on his face.

Eventually, you get back on track and aquire your target and "deal with them".

"Listen, about the kiss...." You awkwardly start to say. You both had completed the mission and were back at the food court, resting before the long journey back to the Artika.

Tomas also avoided eye contact with, rather than paying attention to his tea than you. "Yeah...about that."

You apologize, hoping he wasn't too upset about kissing him without his consent. "No, no, it was fine, I enjoyed it." He quickly blurts out, finally looking at you.

You both now sit in silence afterwards. "W-We should go."

Both of you left the mall in an air of uncomfortable silence.

"I...liked it too." You awkwardly say, shortly interrupting the silence. Tomas gives you a surprised look as you quickly race ahead in embarrassment.

[t1track]

MORTAL KOMBAT 1 BOYS JEALOUSY HCS

WARNINGS: almost every male character on the main mk1 roster is included, a little bit of angst here and there, established relationships, some mentions of harassment and assholes not taking no for an answer, gender neutral reader, lowercase intended, you can clearly tell havik is the author's favorite, reader condones havik's actions in his part but author doesn't it's just for story purposes, characters may be ooc idk, not proofread we die like sindel

A/N: i got this idea while i was in the shower this morning blasting what is love by twice cuz i finally got around to the khaos reigns dlc yesterday and my interest in mk1 has been revived. also this took me 10 hours to write for some odd reason. also i've never written this many characters before in one part... please like and reblog i really am proud of this and hope you guys like it too <3 also you can tell the more i was writing the longer the paragraphs were getting

doesn't get jealous (he trusts you):

LIU KANG has full faith in your loyalty. he doesn't take it personally when someone flirts with you. he'll gladly step in if the person flirting with you isn't taking a hint, but overall, he isn't bothered. in fact, he's more concerned about your well-being than his. he'll comfort you after the encounter and ask if there's anything he can do to put your mind at ease.

KUAI LIANG would silently watch the interaction from a distance, waiting for the person to leave you alone. similar to liu kang, he trusts you and gives you the chance to defend yourself before he does. he's confident that you wouldn't leave him, but he still stays nearby in case you need his help. in the event that you do need his assistance in getting rid of the person, he wouldn't hesitate to teach them a quick lesson then evacuate the scene with you.

GERAS couldn't care less. in fact, he isn't surprised you would be hit on. you're physically and socially attractive, it makes sense that other people would attempt to court you. he trusts that you won't let the interaction go any farther. if the person persists or is disrespectful, he'll walk up to you two and bluntly state that you're taken, then leave immediately. he won't waste his time with assholes and perverts.

RAIDEN would feel a little awkward. he trusts you, so it's not that he's unhappy with you, but he feels uncomfortable for you. he's a very calm and civil man, so he usually tries to avoid confrontation. but when it comes to you? especially when the person is making you uncomfortable? he has no problem politely telling that person off and walking away with you. he'll later reassure you by reminding you that assholes and creeps will always be around, but so will he.

doesn't get jealous (because he gives you scary dog privileges):

KENSHI TAKAHASHI wouldn't feel jealous at all if someone were to hit on you. he knows his partner is wonderful, so of course other people are going to approach you. besides, he knows he looks a bit intimidating with his tattoos, muscles, and confident aura. weirdos that flirt with you will back off when they see kenshi casually put his arm around you as you talk to the person, as if he's daring them to try something. his years involved with the yakuza have made him fearless. he has witnessed the wrath of man many times, so he has no issue teaching another one a lesson if he must.

BARAKA is like a guard dog. with his physique and face? yeah, nobody is messing with you or even approaching you. he usually feels very guilty about this, advising you to leave him due to the embarrassment of being associated with him. but sometimes, his curse can be a blessing to ward off perverts. it fills him with a very rare sense of pride, being able to protect you just by standing by you.

GENERAL SHAO definitely gives you scary dog privileges. he's well-respected in outworld, so everyone usually respects you, his partner, as well. this can be a double-edged sword, however. while outworlders often avoid you out of respect, it is also out of fear of the general's wrath. it's hard for you to walk around anywhere without stares or people trembling in fear, afraid to upset you. not because they're intimidated by you, but because the general has made it very clear that if anyone (especially his soldiers) were to treat you with anything but respect, they'll get an axe to the head.

he's instilled this fear into everyone's head, so you aren't harassed when you are alone. the general is often busy with his own endeavors, so he likely won't be there to defend you instantly. that's why he is very strict with his soldiers when it comes to you. you won't need his immediate protection as long as he makes sure everyone follows his rigid commands.

REIKO, similar to the general, has earned respect among outworlders for his strength and tenacity. while you aren't as feared as you would be with the general, reiko still has his ways of making sure you aren't bothered. because unlike the general, he has slightly more time on his hands to accompany you in your free time. when strolling around outworld, it is not uncommon to get a few stares, but reiko is brave enough to stare back at people with the fury of a true warrior. he has the scars on his back and calluses on his hands to prove his fighting spirit that nobody is reckless enough to challenge.

QUAN CHI is either hated, feared, or respected by everyone. nobody is going to mess with you as long as he is around. with his sorcery, he'll have no problem cleaning up the rodents that attempt to flirt with you. you won't even get the chance to reject anyone, since he's always ready to harm anyone that even dares to look at what is his.

BI-HAN, similar to the general, has already warned everyone in the lin kuei of the consequences that come with disrespecting you. he laid out many rules on how they should interact with you. if anyone among the clan dares to break these terms he drilled into their heads, they will be met with a harsh punishment. he won't tolerate rulebreakers.

and that's what he did on the day someone broke his rules and drunkenly flirted with you. the problem is, he would also be angry at you. bi-han firmly believes that you should be strong enough to protect yourself when he isn't there. if the person that was hitting on you starts to go a bit too far, and you are unable to stop them, bi-han ends up blaming you for their actions. despite having a myriad of punishment methods in his mind, he still wants you to fend for yourself anyway. he is upset for weeks after the incident. it is unclear whether bi-han is angry at himself and taking it out on you, or if he is truly delusional enough to blame you for an incident you never asked for.

gets jealous, but handles it rationally:

JOHNNY CAGE is used to people hitting on him. he's sexy, and an actor, which is a dangerous combo to date. he's made it very clear in private that he would never leave or cheat on you for someone else, and he ignores the numerous amounts of supermodels and fellow actors that attempt to date or sleep with him. you've gotten used to it overtime, as you already discussed your boundaries with him. but you two have never discussed what to do if you are the one being hit on.

if someone were to flirt with you in front of him, he'd butt into the conversation, putting his arm around you and saying: "yeah, my partner's smokin' hot, aren't they?"

he'd start to brag about you and the person would probably get annoyed and walk away. you can't tell if johnny was jealous and purposefully drove them away, or if he just wanted to use the opportunity to talk about you at length. perhaps it was both. you'll never know.

KUNG LAO is infamous for being cocky and prideful. some find his confidence charming, others dislike him and read his personality as arrogant rather than confident. so how could kung lao possibly be jealous? well, the answer is: he isn't. or at least that's how he appears.

he's the type of guy to love showing you off. he's protective, but proud. he'll walk around with his arm wrapped around your waist, with his head held high knowing you only belong to him and nobody else. which is why his ego is so hurt when someone has the audacity to hit on you. did they not clearly see that you're together? kung lao is more personally offended than possessive over you. he won't visibly get angry or anything, just mildly annoyed. he'll become touchier, giving you more kisses and compliments than usual. if you questioned his behavior, he'd respond with a playful: "what? am i not allowed to love my partner?" emphasizing the latter end of the sentence for everyone in the room to hear.

gets jealous, and does not handle it rationally:

SHANG TSUNG, similar to kung lao, is prideful enough to enjoy showing you off. but shang tsung tends to be sassier and hold grudges. while he lets you express yourself and wear/do whatever you want, he didn't expect it to backfire when someone ends up being attracted to you and attempting to court you. but he doesn't do anything about it. he stands from afar and waits for your conversation to be over.

you reject the person and go back to him, but shang tsung would spitefully ignore you. he even started responding to you with sassy quips after you were hit on. you could attempt to make amends with him by trying to initiate a conversation, until this little shit rolls his eyes and says something along the lines of: "why don't you go have fun with your partner?"

you'll never know if he's simply overdramatizing his jealousy to hide it, or if he's just being his usual petty self to get a reaction out of you.

TAKEDA TAKAHASHI is a young man focused on his endeavors. it's not that he doesn't care about you, but he (unfortunately) must keep his distance from you sometimes. your relationship is secret for the sake of your safety. nobody knows that you two are together, so it doesn't surprise him that you are flirted with every now and then. takeda does, in fact, feel jealous. he's not just jealous that they get to openly show their affection towards you, but he's also a bit insecure at times. he knows you won't leave him so easily, but there's still the nasty thought that creeps in the back of his head every now and then, telling him that you deserve better and he can't give you the love you deserve.

TOMAS VRBADA is usually a confident man. he may be kind and generous, but that doesn't make him weak. he's been a hardworking fighter since childhood. he's garnered an impressive amount of experience and intelligence regarding the battlefield over time. but romantically? he doesn't have as much experience. you're probably one of, if not the first relationship he's ever been in.

so, when you're hit on, he isn't quite sure what to do. he understands that the person flirting with you probably just doesn't know you're not single. tomas would speak up and calmly mention that you're already taken. the person that was flirting with you would scoff after seeing tomas, telling you something along the lines of: "him? really? you could do better." instead of causing a scene, tomas ignores the person and leaves with you.

but hours later, it still bothers him, even though he pretends it doesn't. he thinks about your relationship and wonders if you really could do better. he tries his best to be as loving as possible towards you, despite his inexperience in romantic relationships. but with his cluelessness, conflict with the lin kuei, and trying to build up the shirai ryu? he doesn't have a lot of time for you, so he understands if you wanted to leave him. it's a thought that will haunt him for days if you don't notice his behavior and ask him about it.

SYZOTH has always been secretly insecure during your relationship. he fears that you may leave him due to his zaterran blood. plus, after his family was killed by shang tsung, he has been afraid of losing you like he lost them. sometimes he fears he is too clingy, and other times he fears he isn't attentive enough. it makes him feel as if he isn't enough for you. these fears are only enabled by someone flirting with you. his mood would immediately turn sour after witnessing that interaction, until you reject that person and put them in their place. as appreciative as he is for your loyalty, (and flustered to hear how much you care about him) he still can't shake his anxieties away.

you'll likely have to comfort him and reassure him that you will always stay with him, not bothered by his struggles. you must be the one to bring it up though, because syzoth is too afraid to admit that he is jealous. he'll keep it bottled up until you notice his behavior.

ZEFFEERO's pride gets in the way of admitting his true feelings most of the time. you've helped make him more comfortable being vulnerable, but it's only natural that the high mage refuses to admit when he's jealous. it was hard enough to court you; even harder to watch as someone attempts to court you for themselves. it annoys him to watch someone think they can just flirt with you. it enrages him even more when they refuse to take no for an answer and persist in their catcalling. with his blood boiling, he struggles to contain his emotions and stop himself from resorting to violence.

after the incident is over and you dealt with it on your own, he refuses to leave your side in public ever again. whatever gathering or meeting you must attend, he'll be there too. that way, it'll ease his anxieties and make sure you are safe and comfortable. even though you've shown you're capable of taking care of yourself and staying loyal to him, his jealousy drives him to believe that you need him.

a secret fifth worse thing:

HAVIK... yeah you probably guessed he'd have an entire category to himself. it is very difficult to tell how havik feels when someone else flirts with you. is he angry at them for trying to take you? not quite. his beliefs are bent on freedom, so it isn't like you're tied down to him in any way. but at the same time, he can't help but feel a bit hurt, maybe even a bit betrayed at the thought of you leaving him. he doesn't have anyone else. he's been forced to fight for himself after a painful past in seido, then seeking retribution ever since. nobody has condoned his acts since drowning its capital. anyone that isn't on his side is considered his enemy. you're the last person he considers an ally.

you're also the only person that sees his vulnerable, traumatized side that he often disguises with anger. his wrath has tormented him for years, driving him to insanity and believing it is okay to kill anyone that opposes him. it was a miracle that you were able to see through his mask of anger and show love and support towards him, which are two things he isn't used to. that's why he can't help but feel irked by someone attempting to court you. you're the only person that has genuinely loved and cared for him, even after the things he has done. now that he's had a taste of what love and affection is like, he's not going to let you leave him that easily.

he tells himself that he doesn't need an ally, and he can help bless millions with anarchy and chaos by himself, but deep down, he still selfishly wants you for himself. he would feel more comfortable in his rebellion with you staying at his side rather than leaving him for someone else. so yes, he does feel jealousy, (and fear that you'll leave him) but he refuses to admit it and conjures up a lie that you need each other, convincing himself of a false idea rather than facing the truth that his strong desires of "freedom" magically go out the window when it comes to you.

[t1track]

Bi Han x Wife!Reader

Synopsis: {Bi-Han did not have many weaknesses— but you?… you could make him completely fall apart}

For my other works my Masterlist is here <3

!!-18//MDNI-!! Enjoy my lovelies 💕

It was a rare moment to see your husband so at peace, his brows unfurled and his shoulders relaxed, the sight was welcoming— you daren’t even speak not wanting to break the silence that had blanketed itself around the steamy atmosphere.

The hot springs were always a nice way to end a stressful week, the warmth of the water chased away that chill that nipped the air not to mention how good he looked— his hair pulled back into a bun with a few stubborn strands that fell to frame his face, the way the water glistened across his chest and his toned arms that were resting upon the smooth rocks… you were lucky indeed.

Although such silence spoke more to Bi-Han than words did, he could sense your tender gaze upon him and knew exactly what was going through your mind— perhaps that’s why the corners of his lips twitch up into a small smile, he knew you far too well.

“Will you join me anytime soon or will you just keep staring?” He asks, his voice deep and almost commanding beneath the softness that seems to overtake him in your presence. He opens his eyes to look up at you standing there with a silk robe wrapped around your body tightly.

A small scoff falls from your lips as you roll your eyes, averting your gaze in an attempt to be respectful— and to save yourself from further embarrassment.

“I am not staring… just admiring, there’s a difference.” You mutter the response softly, fiddling with your fingers.

“Well your admiring is almost too polite, come here.” His tone carries a certain twinge of playfulness, something you don’t hear a lot from him save for in private— where he can let that mask of his slip and open his heart to you.

With that you let your robe drop, the silk rippling against the curves of your body to pool at your feet leaving you bare for him and he shamelessly drinks in the sight, his gaze dragging along the slope of your shoulders down towards your chest and over your hips and thighs— he was absolutely enraptured by you, every single inch.

Bi-Han’s gaze follows you closely as you step down the stone stairs and into the hot waters, wading closer to him. It was almost a shame to call you mortal because it was clear to him that the gods were your creators, sculpted beneath their fingertips.

Especially right now, with the pale light of the moon kissing your skin and casting an otherworldly glow around your body— you are the girl that all the poets write about.

“You’ve been neglecting me as of late.” You state so matter of factly, sticking your chin out in a playful confidence. The statement breaks him out of the trance you seem to have trapped him in.

At your words he sighs, yes he’d been neglecting you, but it wasn’t on purpose. In fact, he’d gone to bed many nights swamped by guilt for how little time he has had for you recently, but on the other hand, this distance was for you— to build a life where you would be protected.

“I’ve had much to do in preparation, forgive me.” He says, voice gruff yet gentle… always so gentle with you.

You hum in understanding, padding your way closer to him through the steamy water and as soon as you’re close enough his hands immediately find purchase on your bare hips, tugging you near his body, he couldn't help himself, he ought to have more self-control he thinks to himself yet you seem to call to him like a siren does to a sailor.

“Well… am I to remain with this burning between my legs?— or will my husband make up for his negligence?” You respond playfully, brushing your fingers through the water and watching it ripple in small waves, looking up at him through your eyelashes.

The bluntness of your words catches him slightly off guard, making him chuckle through his nose as he drags the roughness of his fingertips along your waist and up your spine then back down again.

“Come here then, I’ll see what I can do about this burning of yours, hmm?” And with that he’s cupping the back of your thigh, pulling you to straddle his lap as the water sloshes up against your bodies and the rocks.

Your hands instinctively reach out to rest against his broad shoulders, stabilising yourself as he cups your chin to tilt your head in his direction— his thumb brushes along your bottom lip with an almost reverent look in his dark eyes.

Being so intimately pressed up against one another sends your mind into a hopeless flurry of emotions and thoughts and Bi-Han reveals in the way squirm against him, the small noises that you make and how your pupils dilate.

“Yes, please—” you breathe almost pleading, meeting him halfway in a slow kiss that borders on desperation. His lips slotting perfectly against your own and he swears you were made for him, every curve and dip of your body.

Your fingers pull on the tie that keeps his hair up, dropping it into the water before running your hands through his dark tresses as he deepens the kiss— his tongue pushing past your parted lips to brush against your own, trying to tug you impossibly closer.

He can’t help but smirk at the feeling of your hips grinding against him in search of that friction you so heedlessly need. “Mm, I’ve got you, my love.” He whispers in between lazy kisses that taper off into small pecks, his lips trailing along your jaw— a hot mixture of teeth and tongue pave the way down your neck and over your collarbones, focusing on the spots that make you whimper and arch into his toned body.

Your whole body flushes with a tingling sensation as he dips his hand between your legs, his fingers dragging along the coarse hairs on your mound before pushing between your slick folds— a sharp gasp escapes your lips and your hand grasps a little tighter in his hair which causes him to groan in return, a sound that makes a familiar heat pool in your abdomen.

It was all so dizzying and the heat from the hot springs certainly didn’t help either, but you couldn’t say you minded not when his calloused fingertips rub slow circles over your clit-- the sudden feeling makes your hips buck against his hand, the warm water lapping up at your back and against the smooth rocks.

“Mhm— more, I need you.” You’re already in a daze of pleasure and lust, it didn’t take that much for him to render you into a blabbering mess and he basked in it every single time.

His hand tightens around your jaw ever so slightly, his thumb pressing into the corner of your mouth and he stares up at you in pure wonderment, enjoying every small little twitch in your face as he continues to circle at your clit.

“Shh my sweet, patience you know I’ll give you everything you want… always,” he seals the promise with a kiss, smiling against your lips as you moan so carelessly into his mouth at the feeling of his middle finger dipping into your wet hole, followed by his ring finger.

The slickness of your walls clenching around his digits only serves to turn him on, his cock hardening in between your thighs as he pumps his fingers in and out of your greedy cunt— curling them deeply in a way that makes you arch and whimper, grinding yourself against the heel of his palm.

His fingers stretch you open slowly, the water splashing up against your body, water droplets trickling down your jaw and rolling along your shoulders.

“I need you… inside me, please.” The words fall from your lips so carelessly, heady in a sense— completely drunk on the pleasure he was giving to you.

He gives in to your wants, as always, he could never find it in himself to make you wait especially when you make such pretty noises— and partly because of how hard he is.

The loss of his thick fingers is soon replaced by his cock, his hands now grasping at the fat on your hips as he slowly guides you down onto him whilst you pant and moan into the crook of his neck— whining about how big he is which only elicits a deep chuckle from him. The sound rumbling through his chest, you could feel it against your own.

“Shh, you can take it… take me so well,” Bi-Han groans, tipping his head backwards slightly as you take all of him deep inside you, practically sucking him in and he breathes some comment about how ‘tight’ you are and how much he 'missed you'.

It’s all such a haze in your mind, your eyes bleary with lust as he helps you move against him— your knees pressing either side of his thighs, your nails biting into his broad shoulders— it drove him insane and he can’t help the way he grunts at the feeling, his hands squeezing at the curve of your ass.

The tip of his cock hits your cervix with every bounce, each one more intense than the other— the drag of his cock along your walls brings you closer and closer to the edge. It was a little embarrassing how quickly your body starts to tremble, the familiar tingle that flickers down your spine leaving a searing heat.

“I can’t— I can’t,” you’re a blabbering mess, letting him take control as he guides your hips up and down along his thick cock— thrusting up into your wet cunt as you practically melt into his strong body.

“You can, my girl… let go.” He whispers through slightly gritted teeth, smirking against the dewy skin of your shoulder as you loop your arms tightly around his neck— “I’m right there with you,” he grunts, turning his head to brush his lips along the curve of your jaw,

Through whiny moans your orgasm washes over you, fingers buried in his hair as your warm heat clamps down around him until he’s spilling deep inside your womb— the pair of you immediately finding each other's lips in a slow and needy kiss, his nose brushing against your own.

“I’ve got you, always,” Bi-Han whispers hoarsely, his arms wrapping around your waist to hold you close to him as your body goes all boneless against him, all you can do is whimper in response. The heat from both your bodies and the water provided a sense of comfort, along with the way his calloused hand rubs your back soothingly… he’d never make you wait so long again.

[t1track]

Assassin's Creed: Mirage

THE ART OF PICKPOCKETING: Basim Ibn Ishaq x fem!reader

Summary: Basim Ibn Ishaq really liked to think of himself as someone, who's impossible to pickpocket -- and she finally found the opportunity to prove him wrong.

Notes: English isn't my first language. I apologize for any mistake I may have made while I wrote this short story.

Warnings: none

•••

Basim Ibn Ishaq really liked to think of himself as someone, who's impossible to pickpocket.

And whenever he said that thought out loud, she wanted nothing more than to prove him wrong.

She sometimes liked to include the children too, who were free to do whatever they wanted after finishing the task Dervis had given them. They liked to be the distraction, while she did her best to sneak up on him and take the little blue charm from his scarf. When she failed Basim chuckled while the children laughed. Nehal just stood not far away, shaking her head as she tried to hide a smile.

All her attempts had failed. None of them worked.

Basim always seemed to expect all her ideas and tries, and he was holding a firm grip on her wrist the moment her fingertips were touching his clothes.

She almost gave up, accepting defeat. Almost.

Because soon the right moment presented itself.

She just came back from an errand Dervis had given her -- an easy task; just a go in - grab the small chest of dirhams - then get out without getting caught. She was on her way to give Dervis the chest when she ran into Basim - or rather: Basim jumped her in a tight alleyway.

She was startled and almost dropped the dirhams, what would've gotten her a long, endless, angry speech from Dervis himself. She playfully hit Basim on the shoulder as he laughed.

"You're such a child sometimes, I swear." she shook her head disapprovingly, hiding a smile.

"Oh, come on! You left me all alone today with nothing to do!"

"Wasn't Nehal around?" she asked with a raised eyebrow as she continued to walk toward Dervis' place.

Basim followed her closely.

"Nehal isn't you." he complained and she felt a blush threatening to appear on her cheeks. "Besides, she never wants to come with me to see what the Hidden Ones are up to!"

"Because you annoy her a bit too much with that." she chuckled as Basim pouted at her teasing tone. "And it's not a bad thing that at least one of us isn't suicidal."

"Do you have any other errands to do after this one?" Basim asked.

"No. Why? Is there something you'd like to do?"

"I was thinking, maybe we could go and practice."

"Practice what?" confusion was the only visible emotion on her face.

"Pickpocketing."

She stopped so suddenly that Basim almost bumped into her. It was Basim's turn to look confused and hers to pout.

She looked at him as if he just hurt her feelings. Her eyebrows were raised as if challenging him to continue. When he didn't, she decided to voice her anger.

"Pickpocketing? You think I need to practice pickpocketing?" her voice was higher than usual and Basim just scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, not really knowing what to say.

"Well, everyone needs to practice..."

"Basim!" she could imagine his heart jumping at her tone. "Do you think I need to practice?"

He crossed his arms in front of his chest and did his very best to look confident, but he couldn't really fool her. She knew him too well. And she knew he wasn't feeling overly confident at all.

"Well, I did follow you and you didn't even notice me until I jumped you. And you still can't pickpocket me."

If looks could kill...

"So you're telling me that no one could possibly surprise you? Not like you suprised me?"

A quiet understanding ran through Basim's eyes, as if he finally realized that he set up a trap for himself. Her eyes were shining with mischief as she was waiting for an answer, and his body became more rigid, feeling a storm coming.

"That's exactly what I'm saying..."

Always acting so confident, always hiding the side of him she loved the most - the side that loved poetry, and softness, and the thought of love itself...

"If that's what you think, Basim..."

She put the chest between her left arm and her side to keep her right hand free. Then, she took a step or two toward Dervis' place to let Basim feel safe and give him the false feeling of relief.

The moment she heard him take the first step, she turned around, grabbed his scarf and pulled him down into a kiss.

She closed her eyes, but she could imagine the surprised look on his face. She could imagine him blushing and she could imagine his eyes being wide open. And those thoughts made her grin.

She made sure to kiss him with passion. To show him the feelings she has been having for him since the beginning of time. She made sure to kiss him roughly, she made sure it made him lose all his senses. She made sure it was a great distraction.

By the time Basim collected himself and found the courage in himself to kiss back, she already let go of his scarf and pulled away.

His flushed face made her smile widely.

"So this wasn't surprising... At all..."

"No, I--"

She grinned.

"It's alright Basim. It happens to the best of us."

She started to walk again and after a few long seconds Basim began to follow her.

Some of the children noticed them and ran toward them to greet them. She just giggled and raised her left hand high, showing them the blue charm what she was holding in a tight grip.

"I finally did it!"

The cheering was almost comical. So was the laughter what came after Basim touched his scarf with a confused expression, not believing that the charm was gone.

"Oh, don't worry Basim, we all need our practice!" she teased and the children laughed harder.

"That's cheating!" Basim argued with a blush. "Give it back!"

"Get it back!" she shouted as she began to run, dropping the chest of dirhams not caring if Dervis gets his money or not; or if he gets angry or not.

Victory just felt too good. So did Basim's lips on hers.

Their game of cat and mouse didn't last long. After a few minutes Basim managed to tackle her on one of the rooftops - and she gladly let him turn her around and kiss her with so much passion, she had to whimper.

Yet the minute Basim's fingertips touched the charm, she grabbed his wrist, pulling him away from her prize.

"Don't you dare." she warned.

Basim grinned. She did too. Then his lips were on hers again as her free hand held onto his shoulder tight.