#I accidentally took a whole muscle relaxer and i was only supposed to have half but i didnt remember that until after

[beneathashadytree]

ALWAYS WANTING - SHINGEN TAKEDA X READER

Warnings : implications of sex, semi-nudity, this is not proofread, reader is gender-neutral!

Genre : spicy (just tension, no NSFW!)

Word count : 1.1K words

Additional notes : Got writer’s block in the middle of me aching for this man. And yes, I do have a thing for competent, flirty older men, sue me.

Tip jar if you’d like to buy me a Ko-Fi!

Masterlist

An odd, persistent scraping sound, followed by some hacking and clinking, then repeated all over again was what woke them up from a pleasant and deep sleep. Though their limbs still felt like water, and they still basked in the gentle sort of soreness of a night of boundless pleasure only their husband could give them, their curiosity made them blink past the haze of slumber.

With a push, they dragged themself out of the futon, haphazardly reaching up to try and pat their hair down to look half-decent (though they supposed that the various blatantly obvious marks that they suspected littered their neck and chest were anything but inconspicuous). Lazily trudging out of their room, they walked into the gardens, where all the noise seemed to be coming from.

Within seconds, the sight in front of them had their breath hitching in their throat, and completely robbed them of their ability to speak. After all, it wasn’t every day that they woke up to the sight of Shingen’s back muscles flexing with every movement of his, droplets of sweat trickling down the sturdy planes of his back.

A quick glance downwards told them that he was busy sawing at a half-sanded piece of wood, amidst a whole lot of other odd bits and pieces that they couldn’t make sense of even if they tried. His woodmaking tools were neatly spread out around him, clearly organized in a manner familiar to him.

Though it was spring, the sun was quite hot out in the gardens, and so it made perfect sense for him to have slipped his muscular arms out of his sleeves, his obi a lot looser on his waist like that—perfect sense, though it left them with a dry throat, burning cheeks, and unabashedly wandering eyes. With ever movement he made to chip away at an edge or saw a piece in half, they remained fixated on the way every muscle rippled and relaxed almost artfully.

Truly, Shingen was a sight to behold at all times, but when his cinnamon hair was half-slicked against his damp forehead, and half mussed in a devastatingly-charming way, and his every movement spelled out the hard-earned strength of decades, and his large calloused hands handled his carpentry so deftly it made them envy it, he was far too dangerous a threat to their heart and sanity.

They feared that maybe their pounding heartbeat had grown too loud, because they’d barely moved another inch from where they’d been standing before he took notice of their presence and turned his head to face them. And then there was that smile that promised frenzied trysts and passionate nights, while pouring all of both his spoken and wordless adoration into them, and they could no longer think straight at all.

Shingen’s eyes, a soft ash of defiant rebirth and always of sensuality, visibly lit up at the sight of them standing behind him. “There you are, my love. Here I was, wondering if the Gods had blessed me with exceptionally good luck with this, when it simply was your presence.” Even though they rolled their eyes at his saccharine words, they couldn’t help the upwards quirk of their lips. “Come, sit beside me for a while.”

There was no need for him to say more, for they found their legs moving of their own accord and crossing their legs underneath them, watching him up close as he huffed and puffed while sanding the surface of the wooden slab he was currently working on to perfection.

They made sure not to touch anything or knock over any resting pieces surrounding him, so as not to accidentally mess up his preferred order of things, but still, they worried. “Am I not being a distraction?”

Pausing his ministrations, Shingen glanced back up at them, an unreadable look flitting through his eyes for a second as he seemed to instantaneously scan their entire being. They had no idea as to what he’d found, but there must’ve been something betraying their innermost, most carnal desires, because he made sure to give them his most winning smirk.

“While your presence certainly robs me of all rationality more often than not, I do believe I’m not the one currently distracted.” A flex of his abdominals as he leaned back to rest on his arms, and their teeth chewed at their bottom lip, their body reacting to the man that knew them, inside-out and all over every curve and crevice.

And when Shingen chuckled at the way their face spelled all their barely-contained yearning, it only resounded in their chest, where he’d long nestled deep inside their heart. Damn him, and damn his unbearably sensual gaze, and damn the way he’d now languidly lied back, like a tiger waiting for the signal to pounce on his prey and devour them whole.

For a few beats, they only breathed in the tension, thick and syrupy with all the emotions and words they both held back. But they’d never been one to sit still and wait, really.

“Well, I can see you’re quite immersed in this, but what would you say to an invitation back inside? And… as quickly as possible?”

“You present a tempting offer, and I find it hard to refuse one from a generous deity.” Voice smooth as silk and rich as gold, now lowered to a delicious purr that sent warmth pooling deep into their belly. “Especially when looked at with such a passionate gaze. It makes a man feel like the heavens have blessed him all over again.”

Before they’d even processed it, Shingen had leaned in dangerously close enough for his scent to be all over them—musk, sandalwood, earth, and just as tempting as every inch of him was. Their heart stuttered and their breath held, they could only give into his arm curling around their waist, as his teeth teasingly tugged at their ear.

Everything burned all at once; every place he touched ached for more of him—and more he seemed all too eager to offer, if the blazing heat in his eyes was anything to go by.

“Then take me,” they somehow managed to breath out, “Take me and show me how you’d worship me.”

And perhaps it was the way he’d scooped them into his arms like they’d weighed absolutely nothing to him, but as he began to carry them inside, they couldn’t help the gasp that escaped them, to which he chuckled in that alluring way of his, sending sparks of pleasure tingling down their very spine.

“I’d gladly do as my beloved desires.”

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[the-insomniac-emporium]

Serenade (Daniela Dimitrescu/Reader) Pt. 1

Fandom: Resident Evil: Village Pairing: Daniela Dimitrescu/Reader Rating: T for teen for mild language. Later entries in the series will be more mature though, just a heads up Warnings: None this chapter. There will probably be canon typical violence/blood mentioned or referenced in future chapters though, cuz, ya know, vampire ladies? Notes: No beta reader, we die like Ethan Winters’ hands (repeatedly, and with odd frequency)

Chapter 1: Nocturne

     Of all the tasks assigned to you, none were as bittersweet as that of dusting Lady Dimitrescu’s piano. Years ago, before you had been shuffled off to a remote European village, before you had been roughly snatched from your home, before… this, you had been taught to play music. From a young age it brought you comfort, entertained you on quiet days, and even made you your fair share of friends. Though you had experimented with a handful of instruments, none felt more natural than piano. Leaving your family’s heirloom piano behind was one of the hardest things you had ever had to do. 

     Until you arrived at Castle Dimitrescu, at least. Sweat often dropped off your brow as you spent endless hours scrubbing floors, carrying baskets of clothes or mysterious parcels of meat up and down flights of stairs, rushing to and fro rooms across the estate. Physical labor was no stranger to you, but no employer had ever been as demanding as those you now served. Hence part of why you always breathed a sigh of relief when you were chosen to dust the piano. It was hardly a demanding task, even when you had to take care not to accidentally let the keys make any noise. No one was allowed to play it without permission (and that was never given).

     Which brought you an aching sensation at the core of your chest, balled up alongside past regrets, a hundred million thoughts of alternative realities where you didn’t hurt so much. There was no point in imagining what choices might have saved you from your fate… and yet you did so anyway. Sometimes you thought about barricading yourself in the room, just so you could play a couple songs, even if it would guarantee you a painful death. But you could never bring yourself to willingly disobey Lady Dimitrescu; not when you had heard the wails and screams of Maidens a few floors below.

     Yes, you would never willingly, knowingly do such. That wasn’t to say you were incapable of mistakes. No, you weren’t that fortunate. It was such a simple error, really, just a misjudgment of the cloth held between your fingers. Your hand slipped. That was all. But that slip led to an accidental press of a key- f#, if you heard right- that sounded throughout the room with damning clarity. Just like that, you felt the pitiful thing you called life shatter to pieces on the floor. Inside your chest your heart started to pound, a metronome speeding this performance along to its end.

     Had you not been paralyzed with dread, you might have accepted your fate with enough grace to sit down, play those last few tunes like you had daydreamed about so many times. But you didn’t, couldn’t. All you felt you could do was strain your ears and listen for the impending sounds of angry footsteps.

     Instead your concentration was interrupted by a door flying open, hitting the wall with a slam you knew would leave a dent, as a swarm of insects burst in. Nearly jumping out of your skin you put a hand to your chest, half expecting not to feel a heartbeat anymore. The rhythm was off, for sure, and it skipped a beat when the swarm surged together to form a somewhat familiar figure: Daniela Dimitrescu. Leaning against the piano, one hand bracing against it, the woman pretended to examine her sickle, idly twisting it back and forth in her hand. When she spoke, she didn’t even bother to glance in your direction.

     “I never understood why mother dedicated a whole room to this,” she muses, casually inclining her head towards the piano. “It’s not like any of our instructors lasted very long. Why not let this gather dust with the rest of the useless junk somewhere upstairs?” There’s a pause, and for a moment you mentally debate whether or not you’re supposed to respond. Apparently not, as Daniela soon turns to you and speaks more directly, which is grand, really, as your tongue felt as if it was glued to the roof of your mouth. “Maybe she knew someday someone would come along to serenade us. And you clearly know how to play, otherwise you wouldn’t have dared to make a sound.”

     Stepping forward, she extends a gloved hand, cupping your chin so gently that you almost couldn’t feel her touch. Her gaze, however, was dangerously intense, unblinking, and filled with far less joy than her grin would suggest. The touch lasts only a few seconds. Just long enough to leave you shaking with anticipation. Daniela’s toothy smile only widens as she backs up, keeping her eyes on you even as she reclines into a chair in the corner of the room. You almost wished she would just get it over with and kill you. Whatever she had in mind would be worse in the end, yes? 

     “Well? Aren’t you going to play for me? Show me how much you love me? I don’t have all night,” Daniela says expectantly. She’s relaxed fully, sitting with one leg crossed over the other, spine pressed up against the back of the chair, but she hasn’t set her sickle down. There’s a clear threat in the way she holds it, grip tight enough to let you know that she’s still ready (and itching) to use it.

     You couldn’t help but wonder if she’d be acting differently if she knew that you did, in fact, know how to play. Was this just a teasing start to your punishment? Or was there a part of her genuinely interested in hearing music? Obviously you hoped for the latter. Hell, you practically prayed for it as you slowly pulled out the piano bench, awkwardly sat down, and urged your body to remember a song. What genre would a vampire from the 1950’s even enjoy? All you knew were bits and pieces of a few classics, a couple chord progressions from early 2000’s hits, and a handful of songs you had written yourself.

     There wasn’t much time to ponder, not with Daniela’s gaze burning a whole in the side of your head. So you simply pressed your fingers to the keys, took a deep breath, and let muscle memory take over. Your eyes became half lidded as you started to play, hardly paying attention to what you were doing. It felt like a single glance at your captor would result in the worst case of stage fright known to mankind. Instead you focused on the piano’s wooden frame, and the many grain marks twisting within.

     All the while your fingers glided over the keys, delicately pressing here and there, starting with something simple. Little more than a chord on your left hand, followed with a few short notes on your right, repeating in different places up and down the scale. It was almost a test, a gentle showing to see what Daniela would do. You still refused to look at her, even when you heard what sounded like a bored sigh. A knot tied itself in your stomach, and you gulped, before you shifted mental gears. Evidently “soft and simple” wasn’t going to cut it. Hopefully you could please one Lady without earning the ire of any of the others.

     So you paused, letting the notes suspend in the air for a moment, and came back swinging. The kiddy gloves were off, abandoned on the floor with your sense of caution. Grander things came back to mind as your fingers danced atop the keys, stretching chords and melodies alongside each other, the best of what you recalled pouring out of you without a sign of stopping. Out of the corner of your eyes you saw Daniela sit up, paying more attention then she had at the start. Confidence found itself growing at the center of your chest, and it managed to turn your lips up into a smile. How long had it been since you had been able to perform like this? Years? A decade, even? You didn’t know. It didn’t matter.

     Minutes passed by like this, with your hands moving constantly, even as your gaze never shifted. It was heaven channeled on Earth. Whatever was to come after, death or dismemberment, you couldn’t care less. Let them take your blood, your life. They could never take this music from your mind, from your memories, or the joy it inspired in you. If you were to die soon, at least you had been given one last soliloquy.

     Eventually the song had to end. It was a bitter moment, one you dreaded for its followup, but otherwise would have found pride in. After all, you were evidently the first maiden to give a performance (at least of this variety) to one of the Dimitrescu sisters! Certainly that was an accomplishment? Maybe your brain would let you celebrate later… assuming you survived. Daniela had stayed quiet since her earlier sigh, letting you play on without interruption thus far. Now that the song was over you didn’t know what to expect. Knowing Daniela, or at least knowing the rumors surrounding you, it was hard to imagine that anything you could expect would be accurate.

     “How long have you been hiding this little talent of yours?” She coos, clapping her hands together with a short giggle. So far so good, you thought, clinging desperately to hope. Once more she rose to her feet, moving so smoothly she might as well have been gliding, and ended up by your side. This time her hand rested on your shoulder, putting enough pressure to keep you from moving. “Don’t tell me you’re shy, that would simply be too… precious.” With that said her hand trails along your shoulder, across your collarbone, up your neck, then rests for a moment on your cheek. The touch sends a shiver down your spine, which only encourages Daniela, and she tucks a strand of your hair behind her ear.

     Before she can say more, or you could even attempt to form words, there’s the faint sound of someone yelling in the distance. A name, you think, although it’s not loud enough for you to make out who’s being called. The answer becomes evident soon enough, however, as Daniela pulls back from you suddenly, smile trading out for a scowl. Some part of you instantly misses her touch, leaving the rest of you confused more than anything.

     “Get back to your work, then,” Daniela says, roughly, the playfulness in her voice now entirely absent. It was such a sudden change in demeanor that you didn’t know how to react. Thankfully her eyes were no longer on you, and she was already moving towards the door. Had you really managed to play your way out of a punishment? You knew for a fact that at least one other maiden had lost her life for making the same mistake you did, yet now Daniela looks ready to leave without so much as a slap on the wrist. But she does pause in the doorway, as if reading your thoughts, and throws you a look over her shoulder. Her eyes narrow for a split second before she gives you one last wicked grin. “Don’t worry, sweet thing, I won’t forget you anytime soon.”

     Just like that she was gone, into a cloud of insects, out the door and into the corridor beyond. The tension in the room had left, you could finally breathe easy… and yet still your mind was racing. Those words she had left you with- were they a threat? Or a promise of something softer? Only time would tell.

[helloalycia]

girl next door [one] // wanda maximoff

summary: somebody new moves into the flat next to yours and you feel the need to introduce yourself, only to learn she's not very talkative

warning/s: none i don’t think??

author’s note: first part to a three-parter i’ve been working on, hope you like it! (also the masterlist needs to be updated so soz about that)

part two | part three | part four | part five |masterlist | wattpad

Shopping bags in hand, I returned from the supermarket to my flat when I saw the usually-vacant flat next door to me in use. The front door was slightly ajar, with several moving boxes in front and the sound of someone moving about inside. Huh, so someone moved in. It had been vacant for half a year now – it was nice to finally have a neighbour!

I headed to my own flat, my nosey self taking a peek through the door to see if I could have an idea of who was moving in, but I couldn't see anyone, so I continued to go into my own place and unpack my groceries. After doing so, I decided to head next door and introduce myself, excited to meet someone new in the building.

The boxes from earlier were gone now, probably all inside, and the door was shut like I usually saw it. I sucked up a breath before knocking on, a friendly smile reserved on my lips for whoever would open.

It took a moment, but the door finally opened and revealed a brunette with bright hazel eyes and a mildly confused expression on her face. She seemed strangely familiar, but I couldn't quite pinpoint it.

"Hey! I just wanted to come 'round and introduce myself. I'm your new neighbour." I pointed to my door next to hers and added, "I saw you moving in earlier. I'm Y/N."

She pursed her lips, eyes glancing around subtly before looking me up and down. "Er, hi... I'm Wanda."

I detected a slight accent in her voice with the few words she spoke and became immediately intrigued since everyone in this building was usually the same old American. I didn't ask about it though, as I didn't want to make her feel uncomfortable at our first meeting.

"Nice to meet you, Wanda," I returned with a smile. "I've been living here for a year now, so if you need a hand with anything or need pointers for where to get the best Chinese, I'm your girl." I paused, expecting some sort of reaction, but she didn't move a muscle. Swallowing awkwardly, I added, "Of course, if you just need a hand with unpacking or anything, I'm also happy to help."

She still didn't reply, and in fact, she looked a bit peeved with my presence which made me realise that maybe she just wasn't a talkative person.

I cleared my throat nervously before finishing with, "I'll, er, I'll leave you to it. Sorry to disturb you..."

I chewed on my lower lip as I avoided her piercing gaze and went back to my own place. Not everybody was interested in befriending their neighbours, I got that, so I respected her decision and decided not to bother her in the future. It didn't make me feel any less embarrassed at my intrusiveness though.

I didn't think much of it until the following morning when I was watering my plants out on the fire escape. My fire escape was joined with the neighbour's – the neighbour that usually didn't exist but was now Wanda. The brunette was stood there, drinking some coffee and staring out into the distance. I debated wishing her a good morning, but decided against it as I recalled her being quite introverted. Instead, I awkwardly watered the several plant pots I had, opting to stay quiet so I could be in and out without bugging her once more.

To my surprise, she spoke up and it took me a second to realise she was talking to me.

I held my watering jug upright as I glanced in her direction. She was already staring at me, deep set eyes darkened over the rim of her coffee cup.

"What's that?" I asked, not sure what she’d said.

She cleared her throat, eyes flickering to the plants to distract from her discomfort. "I'm sorry. For being strange yesterday. You were being warm and welcoming and I just..." She paused, releasing a shaky breath. "I've had a bad past few weeks. I didn't mean to take it out on you."

I definitely wasn't expecting that, then realised how many bad days I'd had and taken out on random strangers. I didn't blame her and instead felt bad for her – moving into a new place was supposed to be exciting, so I couldn't imagine what had ruined her past few weeks.

"Well, apology accepted," I said with a small smile. "And I hope things begin to look up for you soon, Wanda."

Her lips twitched into the tiniest of smiles and I noticed how different she looked when she wasn't down in the dumps – she was quite beautiful.

I finished watering my plants before giving her a final smile. I was about to head back inside, but I hung back curiously.

"Er, Wanda, if you don't mind me saying," I started randomly, "you seem familiar. We haven't met before, have we?"

She raised her eyebrows with surprise. "Oh, really? You don't kn–?" She tilted her head to the side, as if expecting me to understand, but I wasn't sure what she wanted. "I... I guess I just have one of those faces."

I studied her curiously, trying to figure it out. But nothing was coming to mind, so I hummed in agreement. "Yeah, I guess so... anyway, enjoy the rest of your day."

She nodded. "You, too."

–

The next time I saw Wanda was probably a week later, just after I collected my mail from the mailroom. I'd received one of those random free trial boxes for a subscription I must have accidentally signed up for – a box of different flavoured trail mixes – and felt bad throwing it out since it was still food at the end of the day. There were nuts in the mixes, which I was allergic to, so I decided to knock on Wanda's door and see if she wanted them.

I hadn't spoken to her since she moved in, except for the occasional good morning on the fire escape if we saw one another, so I hoped she was a little happier compared to when we last spoke properly. Maybe whatever had bothered her was resolved now.

When she opened the door, she seemed surprised that it was me, probably not expecting me to stop by again after last time.

I offered her a smile. "Hey, Wanda. I, er, hope this isn't a bad time."

She shook her head after recovering from her surprise. "No, no, it's not. Is everything okay?" She paused, glancing around, unprepared. "Do you want to come in or...?"

"It's okay, I'm good here," I said when I saw how uncomfortable she seemed. I wasn't just about to invite myself into her flat because she felt she needed to ask. "I just stopped by because, well, do you want this?" I handed her the box, adding, "I got a free sample in the post. Didn't wanna throw it out because it's food, y'know? And I'm allergic to nuts, so my throat will probably puff up and stop me from breathing which isn't good."

I laughed awkwardly, internally cringing at how I spoke utter nonsense because of her lack of her words and my stupid need to fill the silence.

"Unless you're allergic to nuts too," I added as an afterthought, when she glanced at the packaging with no readable expression. "In which case I should probably throw them right away and this whole thing is stupid."

After what felt like an eternity of me not shutting up, she lifted her gaze, eyes softening with a hint of amusement.

"I'm not allergic to nuts," she assured me, before nodding. "Thank you, Y/N."

I relaxed, not even realising how tense my shoulders were. "That's– that's good... so, how are you settling into your new place? All good, I hope?"

Subconsciously, I chewed on the inside of my mouth, wondering why I was so eager to speak to somebody who clearly didn't want to speak to me. She was so quiet, not a woman of many words, yet I couldn't help but feel responsible for welcoming her.

"It's nice," she said, glancing around thoughtfully. "It's quiet. Private."

I nodded in agreement, eyes falling to her doorframe as I said, "Yeah, that's true. Nothing eventful ever happens here."

She hummed, acknowledging my words. I figured the conversation had ran dry and I'd stayed a little too long, so I tried to think of a way to end it without her feeling forced to. Instead, she spoke up next.

"I like your garden."

I furrowed my brows, wondering what she was talking about.

"The flowers on our fire escape," she clarified, small smile tugging at her lips. "They're beautiful."

I stifled a laugh. "I mean, thanks, but it's barely a garden. I've always wanted a proper space to grow stuff, but obviously I can't have that here."

"Well, you've done a great job with what you have," she complimented, and I was sure it was the most she'd spoken to me since moving in. I suddenly didn't feel like she disliked my presence as much as I once thought.

"Thank you," I said gratefully. "Maybe you can start your own alongside mine some day."

"Maybe," she shrugged, "but probably not. Everything I touch–" She paused, life leaving her eyes momentarily, and head looking down to her shoes. "Everything I touch dies."

I pressed my lips together, not expecting the awkward silence to follow. Wanda seemed stuck in thought and I wasn't sure how I'd managed to bring the conversation down so suddenly, especially with the talk of flowers.

"The lovely thing about flowers," I began, earning her attention and hoping to brighten the mood, "is that they only require a little love, some sunlight and some water to keep going. They tend to take care of themselves. Perfect for even the blackest of thumbs."

She let out a breath through her nose, a half chuckle and half acknowledgment of my comment. It was the closest I'd get to a response, so I ran a hand through my hair and took a step back.

"Anyway, I'm glad you're settling in okay," I concluded with a kind smile. "Again, if you need anything, I'm just next door."

"Thank you," she said, returning the smile, and her eyes sparkled as she did. "Have a good afternoon, Y/N."

"You, too, Wanda."

–

The apartment complex I lived in rarely had people entering that I didn't recognise – I'd lived here long enough to know who was who, even the postwoman and maintenance guy. So, when I was leaving for the supermarket and saw a suspicious-looking man walking down the hall, eyes checking every door, I grew curious.

"You okay there, sir?" I called out to him after locking my front door.

He looked my way, readjusting his cap lower on his head, casting a shadow over his face. "Er, yeah..." He hesitated, glancing at his phone before looking to me again. "Actually, maybe you can help me. I'm looking for Wanda Maximoff's apartment. Do you know which one that is?"

I narrowed my eyes at the tall stranger. "I'm sure you can understand my concern when I ask who's asking."

"Oh, no, I completely understand," he said with a nod, and I could swear I had seen him before. "I'm an old friend of hers."

I quirked a brow. Strange man who claimed to a woman-who-lived-alone's friend? That had trouble written all over it. And from one woman to another, I was concerned, even if I didn’t know her very well.

"That's not saying much, sir," I said, biting back the annoyance. "I think that maybe you should–"

I stopped speaking when Wanda's door opened and she popped her head out. She looked to me before spotting the tall stranger, shoulders relaxing.

"I thought I heard you out here," she mumbled to the stranger, before stepping out fully and giving me a reassuring look. "It's okay, Y/N. I know him."

I nodded, glancing at the man, before meeting Wanda's eyes knowingly. "If you're sure..."

She seemed comfortable as she crossed her arms, hugging herself. Smiling reassuringly, she nodded. I relaxed when I saw she knew the suspicious stranger.

"In that case, sorry 'bout the interrogation," I apologised to her friend. "But, you gotta understand with the whole getup you have..."

Her friend chuckled deeply, looking to his shoes with amusement. "Yeah, sorry about that, ma'am. Didn't mean to worry you. It's nice to know Wanda here has thoughtful neighbours though."

"I'm twenty-two, not a ma'am," I said with amusement, before shaking my head. "Anyway, I should get going. Sorry again."

Wanda and her friend nodded as I left them; I was just glad it wasn't some creepy perv stalking our building – that had happened once.

I headed to the supermarket to do some shopping when I saw Wanda again, this time in the milk aisle. Well, she actually saw me, her trolley stopping before mine as she got my attention.

"Oh, Wanda, hey," I greeted her with a smile. "Fancy seeing you here."

She cracked a smile. "Yeah, well, I needed to pick up a few things. Milk, actually," she grabbed some from the fridge to prove her point, "when I saw you."

I nodded, before remembering earlier and feeling a little embarrassed. "Hey, er, sorry about before with your friend. I hope I didn't offend them or anything."

"No need to apologise," she said with a shake of her head. "It's actually very nice of you to have my back like that. I mean, we don't even know each other that well, but you watched out for me. I appreciate it."

"It's the bare minimum of a neighbour," I joked, before settling into genuine smile. "Besides, I'd like to think you'd do the same."

"Of course," she agreed, nodding slightly, before her eyes drifted to the fridge.

I noticed that every conversation we shared felt unfinished, like there was more to be said but neither of us had the guts to say it. Like now, for example, I wanted to check in and see if she was okay, but I felt like I was overstepping since, as she'd put it, we didn’t know each other very well. So, I changed the subject instead.

"So, just milk then?" I asked, nodding to her trolley which had a few bits and bobs in.

She was confused for a moment, zoning back into reality, before it registered in her mind and she answered, "Along with a few other things. And you?"

"Pretty much same," I said with a shrug.

Her eyes lingered in my trolley as she stifled a smile. "That looks like a lot more than a few things, Y/N." 

I almost laughed. "Technically, yeah, I guess..." I met her curious gaze, explaining, "I'm having a meal with my sister, her boyfriend and my boyfriend at my place tonight. Cooking a lamb roast." She raised her eyebrows with mild surprise, making me shrug dismissively. "It's not that big of a deal, but there's a lot to prepare and I like things to be perfect, so yeah."

She licked her lips and nodded. "It sounds great. Good luck, I guess. I'm sure it'll turn out wonderful."

"Fingers crossed."

She chuckled, glancing at her shoes, making her dark hair fall in front of her like a curtain. When she looked back up, I couldn't help but smile at how cute she looked.

"I'll leave you to it then," she said, before redirecting her trolley around me. "See you whenever."

"See you." I nodded as she walked past me, shoulder brushing mine and leaving me startled at the weird effect she had on me whenever we spoke.

It didn't last for long though, so I brushed it off and continued to do my shop. The evening couldn't come soon enough, and I soon found myself entertaining my boyfriend, my sister and her boyfriend at my dinner table.

"So I was cooking us a nice meal, as we planned, and she ended up having a go at me because of the mess I made afterwards," my boyfriend, Teddy, was explaining to my sister and her boyfriend, Caleb. "That's why I don't try to be romantic anymore."

I paused from sipping my water, looking over at Teddy with an are you serious? look on my face. Y/S/N and Caleb laughed at Teddy's story, but I wasn't as amused as they were.

"Aw, c'mon, babe, don't be pissed off again," Teddy pleaded teasingly from beside me. "It's a joke. I'm joking."

"But that's not how it happened," I corrected him, before looking to the couple before me. "What Teddy means to say is that I had just cleaned the kitchen and told him that when he cooks, he should try to clean as he goes along so it's easier, but of course, he drops cream everywhere and I had to clean it out of the crevices of the counter. All over again."

Y/S/N and Caleb laughed at my retelling of the story, and Teddy frowned playfully as he looked my way.

"And that's definitely not the reason you're not romantic," I said to him promisingly. "When was the last time you even got me flowers?"

He tried to take lead of the conversation again, straightening up and asking, "When was the last time you got me flowers? Feminism, Y/N. It goes both ways."

He was never usually this obnoxious and it was irking me. Y/S/N and Caleb assumed it was all a joke, so were laughing it off, but I was starting to get frustrated. How could he try and make me look terrible in front of my own family?

"I bought you flowers two weeks ago when you got your promotion, remember?" I answered him with a raised brow.

"Damn, she got you there, Ted," Caleb said like it was a burn.

I subtly clenched my jaw and distracted myself with sipping water. Teddy sighed and tried to wrap an arm around me, but I pulled away slightly.

"Oh, come on, you're not mad, are you? This is all in good faith, babe," he said lightly.

I downed my water and looked between them all. "I think I'm gonna get some air. You guys enjoy your drinks."

They all chorused their disagreements, but I couldn't be bothered dealing with them when they were tipsy and annoying, so I ignored them and headed to the fire escape for a breather.

When I reached the railing, I sighed immediately, feeling like a weight had been lifted from my shoulders. Until I heard a creaking noise and jumped with surprise before seeing Wanda sitting on her side of the fire escape, drink in hand.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you," she said apologetically.

I breathed out, turning around and leaning my back against the railing so I could see her better. "It's okay, it's not you. I just– I forgot you could be there. Used to living without a neighbour. It's taking some getting used to."

I forced a small smile to reassure her, before looking down and taking small breaths of fresh air. Teddy could get under my skin at times, tonight being one of those times, and it was happening more and more lately. Why couldn't he just be less... annoying?

"Is everything okay?" Wanda asked, and I looked up fo see her green-gold eyes glowing in the dark under the moon light.

"Yeah," I said with a nod. I glanced inside, seeing my three guests laughing it up like I was still there. I collapsed on my chair and stared into the bustling city ahead. "Why wouldn't it be?"

Wanda hesitated. "Didn't you have that dinner tonight?"

I leaned in the palm of my hand, mumbling, "Yeah. It's still going on. I just needed some air."

Wanda must have sensed there was more to my words – it didn't take a genius to see that – but to my relief, she didn't push on. All she said was, "Oh, okay," and stayed quiet.

The two of us sat there, in a comfortable silence, staring into the city and revelling in the moon's presence. It was beautiful out, though not a single star could be seen because of the city's pollution. Instead, the moon hung high above our heads and conflicted with the many street and building lights of New York City, thriving even past dusk.

I probably could have stayed there all night, preferring Wanda's silent yet comfortable presence to whatever was waiting for me back inside. But to my dismay, I was called back in and sighed quietly to myself. 

"I should head back in," I excused myself, standing up to leave. But I lingered by the door, asking Wanda, "Have you eaten dinner yet?" She seemed puzzled with my question, and I continued speaking anyway. "I made a lot of food and have loads of leftovers I can't finish myself."

She seemed to understand what I was implying and shook her head. "That's okay, Y/N, thank you."

"Wanda, I insist," I said with a small smile. "It'll just go in the bin otherwise."

She was still reluctant. "Honestly, it's fine."

i wasn't taking no for an answer though. "I'll stop by in a bit to drop it off."

"Y/N, I–"

"See you then!" I exclaimed before heading back inside and leaving her no choice to deny it.

"There she is," Y/S/N called out to me when I returned. "You feel better?"

"Perfect," I said sarcastically.

She laughed. "C'mon, we're all sorry. Besides, Caleb and I have to go now, so we want to end on a good note."

Was I being too butt hurt? Probably.

"Right, sorry," I said, looking to them all, before saying, "Do you guys want any food to bring back with you?"

"You guys enjoy it," Caleb said with a dismissive wave of his hand. "It was delicious though, Y/N. Thanks for the lovely evening."

"Anytime," I said with a tired smile, before leading them to the door and looking to my sister. "Let me know when you're home, yeah?"

She hummed in agreement, before pulling me into a tight hug. "Love you, Y/N."

"Love you, too," I returned with a playful eye roll.

After bidding them a goodbye, I was left alone with Teddy, who was surprisingly washing the dishes.

"This your way of apologising?" I joked, stopping by the sink.

He glanced at me with apologetic eyes. "Depends. Is it working?"

As I met his brown eyes, I thought back to how frustrating he was acting earlier. He must have been acting out in front of guests for some reason, but he wasn't always like that. Maybe I was overreacting. 

"I'll let you know when you're done," I retorted, making him smile with amusement.

As he did that, I worked on filling some containers with leftover dinner for Wanda, being sure to include a generous amount of everything.

"Who's that for?" Teddy asked, noticing what I was doing.

"Wanda, my new neighbour."

"Never heard of her."

I gave him a knowing look. "Hence the word 'new'."'

He returned the stare. "What I mean is, I've never seen her around."

I shrugged, finishing packing the containers and stacking them to carry. "She prefers to keep to herself."

"What, like a weirdo?"

I rolled my eyes. "No, Teddy. She's just private. Introverted, if you will."

"Sounds like a weirdo to me..."

I chose to ignore him as I left the flat and headed to Wanda's. She opened up quicker than usual, probably since she was expecting me this time.

"Bon appétit," I joked, before holding out the takeaway containers. "It's lamb roast with veg, potatoes, some gravy and bread."

"You really didn't have to," she said, though accepted the food. When she glanced down at it, she added, "This is a lot for one person."

I couldn't help the smile on my face. "Enough for second's. You'll have to let me know if you like it. It's my best recipe."

She snickered, eyes meeting mine. "I'm sure it's delicious... do you want to come in?"

Stepping to the side, she looked to me with what I think was a hopeful expression. I felt bad when I smiled sadly, shaking my head.

"I'd love to, Wanda, but I've actually still got my boyfriend over and I can't really, y'know..."

"No worries," she was quick to reassure. "It's– no, it's okay, honestly. I just thought I'd ask."

It was the first time she'd ever asked and meant it, which meant she was finally getting comfortable with me. I would have preferred to go in, but I couldn't just leave Teddy, nor kick him out.

"Maybe we can hang out tomorrow?" I asked hopefully. "If you want, that is. Because I want to. But I don't want to just invite myself over."

She seemed amused as she nodded. "Tomorrow sounds great. Maybe I can make you dinner, as a thank you for this food."

I grew a little excited at spending a bit more time with the quiet, reserved brunette. "I'd like that."

She nodded, lips pursed into a suppressed smile, and glanced at the food in her hand. "Great. Well... have a good evening, Y/N. And thank you again for the food."

"Good evening," I returned, subconsciously memorising the rare smile she gave me, before leaving her to it.

When I returned to my flat, all I could think about was the next night and getting to know Wanda.

[lokis-little-kitten]

Teaching Assistant 3

Title: Teaching Assistant Writer: Lokis-Little-Kitten Pairing: LokixReader Rating: Mid Warning: spankings, mentioning of masturbation, ED, college, teacherxstudent Summary: You get a job as a teaching assistant for you professor Loki Laufeyson. Quickly the relationship takes a turn when Loki offers to teach you the robes of BDSM.

Good girl. 

Those two simple words make your core fire up with need. Never was anyone able to do that with just two little words. 

Loki his hand creeps up until it's in your hair. He pulls making your head fly back so you can look at him. ‘’Rule number two, always say please and thank you.’’ ‘’Yes master,’’ you whisper again. 

‘’Three, always obey master.’’ ‘’I understand.’’ He lets go of you and takes a step back. ‘’Well then, kneel before me.’’ Slowly you get up from your chair not completely sure of what to do. You walk towards him and lower to your knees. 

Loki lowers himself to your level and looks at your attempt. Knees close together and your palms on them. Not bad, but not good either. 

‘’This is what I mean, little one. Part your knees and lay the back of your hands on your knees.’’ You do as he says while staring at the ground. Hopefully, you did well this time. ‘’Better,’’ he mumbles while straightening up. 

Loki walks towards his computer and looks some things up until you suddenly hear the printer again. ‘’You have clearly never heard of a contract in this industry so I guess I will have to teach you that as well.’’ He takes it from the white machine and walks towards a chair. He sits down and asks you to come to him. 

He hands you the few papers. You take a quick look but Loki already takes up the attention. ‘’Sit down and read through it carefully. Everything you don’t accept, cross it out. This will make sure you are safe, understood?’’ ‘’Yes… master.’’ ‘’Good. Go then.’’ 

Quickly you rush to the chair you just sat in and start reading. Most things sound fine- thrilling even- to you but there were one or two things that went too far for your liking so you took a Sharpie and crossed it out as Loki said. When you are done you return it to Loki. 

‘’Good,’’ he mumbles as he looks at what you got rid off. He walks to his desk again and commands you to sit down again. The whole time you just stare at him with large eyes. Loki also crosses some things out and then goes to the final page. He writes his own full name and then yours. A signature is required afterwards. He puts down his and then gives you the pen. 

You put down the simple signature before returning the professor his pen. ‘’Thank you,’’ he sighs putting it away. ‘’This will be binding then. You are my submissive and will do as I say. Understand that if you leak any of this I will go to the dean and make sure you are ruined, understood?’’ ‘’Yes of course,’’ you quickly reply bowing your head. 

‘’Good girl. You can go to your class now. I do expect you after class,’’ he groans putting away the contract in a safe space. ‘’Yes, I will.’’ Loki gives you an expecting look. ‘’Yes who?’’ 

‘’Yes master,’’ you quickly adjust your answer, ‘’I will.’’ ‘’Within these walls I am your master unless I tell you otherwise. Now go!’’ You nod again and rush out of the room. 

Well, that was an experience! 

You rush to your class where you find Dimitri waiting with your coffee. ‘’Oh my God, where have you been,’’ he whispers since the class has already started. ‘’Professor Laufeyson needed me.’’ Dimitri frowns deeply at your answer. 

‘’Why?’’ You bite your lip and look at your desk. ‘’I forgot to disconnect my laptop from his printer so I accidentally printed out a shit load of papers…’’ He chuckles a bit and gives you the latté that must be almost cold now. ‘’Of course, that happens to you. I assume he wasn’t happy about it?’’ You let out a fake laugh. ‘’Not really…’’

The day goes slow and fast at the same time. The classes seem to pass you in a haze but you can’t wait for this day to be over. Second seem like hours at a time but eventually, there it is… The end of the day. 

 You knock on the hard wooden door that leads to Professor Laufeysons office. ‘’Come in,’’ you hear him call. You clutch the papers you started grading for him to your chest as you open the door. You walk in and close the door behind you. 

‘’Lock it, pet,’’ Loki speaks without looking up. You do as he asks and walk to his desk. ‘’I got these for you…’’ You lay the papers down for him and then take a step back for me. ‘’I don’t react without proper adressmend,’’ he mumbles while reading a letter.

You take a deep breath before speaking again. ‘’Master, I have the papers you asked for.’’ You bite your lip while waiting for his answer. ‘’Good girl,’’ he speaks putting away his things. ‘’Come here.’’ He holds out his hand for you with an intense stare. 

With shaking knees you walk around the desk towards him. Gently you lay your hand into his. Loki is swift to pull you closer to in between his knees. ‘’Kneel, little one.’’ Quickly you obey and drop to your knees not taking your eyes off of him. 

‘’I need you to relax around me,’’ he gently speaks while laying his fingers around your chin, ‘’do you trust me?’’ ‘’Yes, master.’’ ‘’Well then, I’ve noticed that you are nervous around me. Why is that, my pet?’’ You take a deep breath before answering. 

‘’I’m scared to do something wrong, master.’’ He runs his other hand through your hair and pulls up his brows. ‘’No need for that. If you do something wrong I’ll let you know and give you time to redo it or adjust. It is, however, a good thing that you want to please me, isn’t it.’’ ‘’Yes master.’’ 

He smiles. 

The first time you ever saw him smile! You give him one in return while staring up at him. He keeps petting your head to relax you and soon it starts to work. ‘’We need to make sure you feel comfortable around me, pet,’’ he mumbles and gets up. 

He walks towards his fireplace and takes the spirit that is placed on top of it. The professor takes a quick sip without offering you. ‘’Come here,’’ he commands again. You bey him once more being quiet. 

Loki closes in on you and lays his hands on your hips. Your breath stops for just a second. He never touched you there before… His hands travel to the seem of your shirt and start to pull it off. ‘’Arms up.’’ When you do he completely pulls the shirt off of you leaving you in your bra. 

His arm snakes around your waist to unclasp your bra. He slowly lets it slide down your arms and your breast. The clothing article is dropped to the floor as well. Loki his hand grazes your collarbone while studying your half-naked body. 

Loki then lowers himself to one knee and starts to open your trousers. You swallow thickly feeling nervous. You only had one or two relationships before of which one included nudity- usually in the dark. 

He pulls the fabric down your legs. Your muscles tense up at the contact as you try to hide yourself a little with your arms. Loki his right-hand slithers around your ankle and lifts your foot. He pulls the last bit of fabric from your legs and straightens up again. You are only wearing pants now and slightly hope to keep those. 

‘’There.’’ He takes your wrist and pulls your hands your body. ‘’Don’t hide, little one, not for master.’’ A wave of excitement goes down your body straight to your core. ‘’Yes, master.’’ He smirks a bit at you and lays his hand on your cheek. ‘’Good girl.’’ He kisses your forehead and then leads you towards the fireplace. ‘’We don’t want you to get cold now, do we.’’ He lets you sit on the warm carpet and even gives you a book to read. 

No blanket or clothes to cover up, however. 

You honestly try to concentrate on reading the book but Loki is just too big a distraction. Add the nervous and excitement of the whole situation and it results in you being a wreck. You put the book away biting your lip unsure of what to do. Should you just ask for something to do?

You suppose so? 

‘’Master,’’ you breathe out. ‘’Yes, pet.’’ ‘’I can’t concentrate…’’ He looks up at you and grins a bit. ‘’What do you suppose I do about that?’’ Tickly you swallow and shrug. ‘’I don’t know… I’m sorry.’’ He stands up and rushes towards you. 

‘’Don’t be. How are you feeling? Comfortable?’’ Shorty you nod. After being naked in front of him for such a long time your barely notice it any more ‘’Yes.’’ ‘’Good girl.’’ He takes your hand and has you stand up. 

He takes his coat and wraps it around your shoulders. ‘’Back to your duties then.’’ He then just has you grade papers and other things. Eventually makes you get dressed again and leave. 

When you get home you sit down on your bed. What just happened? He barely touched you but you feel like you’re on fire. You pull your knees up and then simply lay down… thinking. 

All kinds of things fly your head until your phone buzzes. You take a look and see that it’s a text from professor Laufeyson. Quickly you open it to find a simple question. 

Professor Laufeyson. Have you eaten dinner yet? 

You. No, I haven’t

Professor Laufeyson. No, master. Make sure you do before eight!

You look at the clock. Seven thirty already! You have been home for an hour? You hadn’t even noticed. The professor had occupied your mind so much the time had slipped from you. 

You.

I try my best, master.’’ 

Professor Laufeyson. Don’t try. Do it. I expect a photo before eight.

You jump up and run to your kitchen. When your right in the middle of getting pots and pans your phone buzzes once again. You grab your phone and look. 

Professor Laufeuson. It better be healthy, little one! 

Your eyes widen at his demand. Is he really asking a broke college student to make a healthy meal within half an hour? Is he joking? What is he going to do if you don’t? You scoff and put all of your stuff away again. 

You eat breakfast, you promise yourself and then go to watch a movie again. It is too late in the evening to still cook or eat! At precisely eight your damned mobile phone buzzes again.

Professor Laufeyson. Times up. What are you eating?

You don’t react. You’ll just say your phone died or something. He can’t force you to eat! 

Professor Laufeyson Pet?

Answer me!

You’ll pay for it if you don’t obey!

That’s it, chances are up.

The messages flood in every few minutes until you turn your phone off. Geez, this guy is intense… Something about it gives a pleasant tingle deep in your chest but your head tells you to ignore it. So you do. 

The next day you turn your phone back on and see that Loki send you some more angry messages. You ignore it again but start to feel a little nervous about seeing him this afternoon. 

You go to your classes and slightly hind behind your large best friend when walking in. He frowns deeply when he notices. ‘’You okay,’’ Dimitri asks heaving his bag a little more onto his shoulder. ‘’Yeah, fine.’’ 

‘’Is the professor getting too much for you already,’’ he chuckles after passing the stern man. You did notice his angry glare at you but then again, his face is always angry… ‘’I might have pissed him off a little. I didn’t finish some work even though I had the whole weekend.’’ He laughs loudly at you. ‘’I’m sorry, babe,’’ he screeches when he arrives at your seats in the back. 

‘’It isn’t funny! He’s going to kill me after class.’’ You lean against his arm and bury your face in his sleeve. ‘’What are you doing this afternoon,’’ you ask, ‘’wanna meet up?’’ ‘’Oh no,’’ he calls out with a smirk, ‘’you are not using me to escape his wrath! Even if I wanted to do that, I have football practice.’’ You groan and cuddle up close with him. He wraps his arm around you and gives you a smile. 

You love Dimitri. He is your best friend of four years now and if anyone saw you that didn't know you they would swear you’re a couple. You’re not, however, just very close and touchy. Probably because the both of you have been touch starved all your life and now try to make up for that. 

‘’Just remember that he isn’t allowed to touch you, okay?’’ ‘’Yeah.’’ Yeah… No. 

‘’Miss Y/L/N,’’ Professor Laufeyson then suddenly calls out. ‘’Would you like to join me on the first row, please? Maybe you can pay attention to me then instead of your boyfriend.’’ Your eyes widen when he asks that. Oh no…

You sit up and look at the front row that is- as usual- empty. You grab your bag onto your shoulder and walk up to the front row at- of course- the middle seat. You quickly obey before you get into even more trouble. ‘’He’s not my boyfriend,’’ you mumble while sitting down. ‘’I certainly don’t hope so,’’ Loki whispers back and then finally starts his class. 

At some point, you manage to get your phone out and in front of your book so you hope Loki won’t see it.

You. Help me! He stares at me the whole time!

Dimitri. You really pissed him off, didn’t you? Sorry that I can’t help you. Maybe he’ll go easy on you from now on?

The moment you want to start typing again a large hand grabs your phone. ‘’Miss Y/L/N, can I conduct from this that my classes are so boring your last option is a mobile phone? No note making or reading can keep you suited?’’ You bite your lip again and quickly apologize. ‘’You get this one back when you go home.’’ He puts it in his back pocket and then continues his lesson. 

You’re so screwed… 

[nomunamuinmybrain]

Work you out (M)

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Rating: M

Genre: Smut

Word Count: 2.4K

In collaboration with the lovely @alwaysdarkestbeforethedawn94

Disclaimer: if you are under the age of 18 please know that this contains heavy sexual themes and mature language.

Summary: Working for Hybe has been an experience. Being Jungkook’s manager is another story. His sharp eyes, firm jawline and snarky attitude was a deadly combination to begin with. The guy easily found his way to your heart and you simply couldn't take it anymore.

Thinking back to how I managed to land such an unimaginable employment opportunity must have been a miracle. Unquestionably, working for HYBE had so many benefits; I swore to never leave this place. Sure, I was a simple manager's assistant, but I was by the side of one of the managers that handled the most important talent in the stretch of South Korea, the entire globe to be honest, BTS. I was assigned the position of assistant to the manager of one of the guys, none other than Jeon Jungkook. I really couldn’t believe my luck. Not only was I a part of one of the most skyrocketing influential enterprises in the country, but I also had the chance to meet some of the most inspiring people in the whole world! Who would have thought?!

Did I have a crush on the guy by the end of my first month working here? Yes, but who wouldn't? He is the sweetest, always polite and courteous. I've met my share of self-boasting asshats; this industry is flooded with such. This guy is worth billions and he has remained ridiculously humble. Word got around about him being a wonderful young man and I could positively say he is so much more up close. Jungkook is ridiculously handsome that’s a given already, but his personality was the real deal-maker. He reminds me of a dark stormy thundery night where I cover myself with my favourite warm fluffy blanket starring out of the window a rich flavored hot chocolate in hand.

In general, I quite enjoy working at the company’s principled environment. Don’t get me wrong, nothing in this world is rainbows and butterflies, but overall, I can confidently say that it’s been a mainly positive experience. Thankfully, the department I am in is assembled by kind, funny people who like to get things done. There hasn’t been a day were I regretted coming here. As for my daily duties as an assistant, working for Jungkook meant keeping up with his appointments, helping him with anything at anytime, managing his schedule, making sure it matches with the other guys' and so much more. I was required to work around the clock and as a single independent woman in her late twenties who was trying to figure out the world around her that didn’t sound like such a bad idea, though I digress. Essentially, I was one of the employees responsible for pretty much anything and everything he needed. Our department was at his disposal 24/7 running around, living that busy life.

That's until the pandemic struck. That was the first time I thought to myself that this might be nature’s valiant plan to get back what man so forcefully took from her. Suddenly, everything was canceled; life got put on a hold. My dearest supervisor, Jungkook's manager, had to stay at home because he had kids. In fact, a lot of people had to stay at home. Abruptly, days became weeks and weeks became months. The desperation and frustration we were feeling was like nothing else ever experienced. Truthfully, it felt like something had been stolen from us and we could never get it back. In this manner, when the gears finally started grinding again I was assigned to be the on-site manager for Jungkook. That meant being in direct contact with him more so than before and of course, being responsible for a ton of other obligations.  

Not going to lie, the first months were slightly awkward for both of us and understandably so. We both were used to very different working arrangements. I might have been working behind the scenes before, but now I had to step into the spotlight becoming his own personal shadow, and I am sure he wasn’t really comfortable with that. Taken into account the current situation everyone looked like a volcano ready to erupt.  

Once, I happened to accidentally step in a not so common incident; maybe it was a circumstance I wasn’t supposed to witness. He was on the phone at the time, when I saw him. That’s why I decided it was best if I stayed behind the half closed door of the studio. I couldn’t hear what he was saying and it was none of my business after all, but I could tell by the minute I laid my eyes on him that something was wrong. Something had been bothering him; irritation written all over his face. He was pacing back and forth, phone still on his ear. He was clenching his fist so hard I wondered if his nails cut into his skin. He was breathing heavily, almost as if he would burst and his muscles grew tense.  

Then, in an instant, it seemed that the call ended and as he was putting the phone in his pocket he slammed his fists down onto the table a loud bang echoing in the room. After some consideration, I knocked on the door to make my presence known and he sharply looked at me. Without having the chance to say anything to him he let out a loud growl and left the room leaving me dumbfounded and unaware by the door. Soon after that, he apologized for the way he acted confessing that he had an unfortunate falling out with one of his closest friends and at the time he couldn’t process what was happening. I would never forget that day. It was the day I came across a not so familiar side to him.

From that day forward, things miraculously became easier and Jungkook was way more relaxed around my presence, we joked around often and he even texted me to ask about a variety of things outside of regular working hours. We managed to develop a teasing relationship full of endless borderline flirtatious banter. He had this other side to him that only a selected few got the chance to know. Jeon Jungkook was indeed a comforting raging night, but he was also an infuriating playful mischievous brat when he wanted to be. This in all honesty, made him a hundred times more irresistible in my eyes.

Life was going on smoothly until Jungkook decided that taking after midnight trips to the gym was perfectly acceptable, insisting that I escort him instead of his bodyguard. I cursed every single time but I went anyway. Forty-five minutes after midnight he was lifting weights, unbothered. Taking secret short glances towards him I contemplated what I had done in my previous life to deserve this torment. Don’t get me wrong, I couldn’t care less about the late hour, but to have this view in front of my eyes was causing me both mental and physical pain. The guy was clearly sculpted by the gods. With his broad chest, muscular arms and thick thighs he could have anyone he ever wanted. He even sported an hourglass figure; He is insanely unreal. That’s the main reason why I decided to sit there preoccupied with a silly game on my phone to kill time until the suffering ended. I was barely hanging from a string at the verge of blowing off the barrier between my personal and professional life.

Out of the blue, with a loud grunt, he dropped the weights, drawing me out of my contemplation. He looked annoyed for whatever reason. He tried his best to seem nonchalant but it was obvious, in his beautiful stern eyes. Could he be craving for an audience? Abandoning every rational thought I had, I put my phone away, looked in his direction as I got up to get water. I smirked at his clear annoyance. Surely, we weren't supposed to interact with the artists this way but I am cranky and sleepy, and for the first time ever, he was being kind of an ass to me. Was I perhaps the reason behind his sudden personality change? The thought kept floating at the back of my mind.  

This kept going on for about three weeks or so and I gave him nothing. His annoyance prominent in his expression, more and more as the weeks went by. He was hot but I am sure all he had been seeking was an audience given that he missed it, or so I thought. Thursday evening rolls around and I was particularly iffy tonight ‘because I was extremely frustrated, sexually. This one was making my situation worse, sporting a tight black tank top and skinny grey sweatpants which made him look like a treat. He could easily pass for a bodyguard with those broad well-built shoulders. As my eyes scanned his body I realized this was the first time his tatted sleeve was on display. I couldn’t help but let my eyes wander. By the time I was done his eyes were already fixed on mine and I turned away immediately, embarrassment written all over my face.  

Seeking solace in the women’s bathroom I tried to extinguish this ravenous yearning. The feeling of cold water did nothing to help the burning desire that was building inside me. Without warning, a knock at the door was heard, his sweet angelic voice following "Are you okay?" he asked, the remnants of a smirk could be heard still. "Jungkook you cannot be here, I am okay. I'll be out in a minute." I exclaimed, as calm as I could. "It's been ten minutes. I can't continue unless you're there." He insisted, I heard him chuckle after that.

With that, it was now or never, I pushed the door’s handle and made my way outside rolling my eyes in the process and he caught that, quickly moving closer, clearly annoyed, jaw clenched, eyes taking in my features, making him look not quite intimidating but definitely interesting. No, it was my mistake. Not just interesting, he looked ravishing. "As I said, I'll be out in a minute. Then you can finish up" I argued. But he didn't budge, moving even closer, if that was even possible, he was almost a breath away. "I don't feel like working out anymore" he declared like a child whose toy was taken away from him. As if I chose to play heads or tails with my career, I poked the beast further, "What is it that you want to do then?" I asked making sure he heard the annoyance in my tone. Coming even closer, to the point where he was completely pressed up against me, "You" he uttered calmly yet authoritatively. Before I could process what he had just said his soft lips crushed mine with a vengeance, thirsty. Pulling my lip with his teeth, he kept planting kisses from my lips to my jaw trailing down to my neck and décolletage; a surprised panting left my lips.  

It felt as if I had involuntarily awakened this beastly hunger within him. His kisses insatiable and his touch was possessive, "I've been thinking about this for so long" he confessed as he took my hoodie off. "Sitting there, not giving a word let alone a glimpse. If you think this is off-limits you're wrong" he growled pointing at himself. "I can guarantee that once we're done here you definitely won't be able to look at me, ever." As he said all that, he managed to get me in a compromising position against the sink, his slim waist in between my legs. He kept my gaze as he lowered his head between my thighs. Little shit kept giving me hickeys on the soft flesh of my inner thighs, so close to my now dripping core. He enjoyed tormenting me and it showed. I was helpless but oh, God was all of this hot. He licked a stripe over my soaked panties, "Oh baby, you smell delicious" and with one hand he took off my underwear completely.

He sank in my folds, letting a guttural moan that I felt vibrating through my core. Not being able to think about what was happening I let myself indulge in my carnal desire my hands tangled in between his luscious hair.  

He loved food and I've watched him eat before, but this must be one of his favorites ‘cause he was doing his best not to let a drop go to waste; he acted like a man starved. His hands held me in place, thankfully, ‘cause everything was too much; nothing could stop me from shaking, feeling everything deep in my core, he was too much. He just had to be good at everything. He kept a torturous tempo, from sucking my clit to his sinful tongue penetrating me, and as tears gathered around my eyes he decided to add his slender fingers in bringing me closer to heaven than I've ever been. "That's it baby, let go. Let go for me" he exhaled and just like that I had the most intense climax. My limbs felt numb, my whole body felt like rubber.  

Before I could register what was happening he was back at it, sucking my over stimulated clit, my thighs unconsciously closing around his head as oversensitivity hit. "One more, please, come on baby, you can do it" he begged. He kept pumping his fingers while sucking my clit, as if it was his only goal in life. My screams muffled through my own hand clamped on my mouth as I reached my high for a second time that night. I felt it take over me with such intensity I didn't register what had happened. He emerged from between my thighs, soaked from me squirting and with a proud look on his face he declared "Now I look like I had the workout of a lifetime".  

He helped me get dressed and pulled me close for a soft peck. He must have noticed my concerned look because he wrapped his arms around me in a warm hug and said "Don't be scared about this, we can work it out. I really like you and I'd like you to stick around". Starring into his eyes, I nodded and he pulled me close for the sweetest kiss, trying to tame my bewildered hair. He helped me get dressed and got out the door first to make sure that no one was around. I waited for a moment and then I got a text.  

[nasty-b]

Drunken Filth

A Wire x Reader x Heat Smut Fanfic. Nsfw of course. 

This is somewhat soft. Aside from the obvious fucking going on. 

When you took his offer there had been loads of alcohol in your system. Saying yes to the huge man telling you he’d rock your world had been one of the more poor decisions in your life, for sure. Yet, here you were. Currently sitting on one of two beds that was situated in the inn he was staying at with one of his pals, who seemed to be currently out. Watching him remove weapons from his body he had somehow hidden underneath his huge cloak that came from his head.

Alcohol was a friend that made some things seem like a good idea but right now not even your trusty friend of liquor could convince you that this was gonna go fine. It’s not that you thought he needed weapons to accidentally hurt you regardless. The man was built like a half god.

Broad, muscled shoulders that connected arms stringy with muscle and strength, his hands huge and probably able to wrap easily around your throat just using one hand. His torso sculpted with abs, complemented by the weird net contraption that he was currently stripping off his upper body.

Your eyes continue to roam against your better judgement to his legs that were barely covered by the net stockings he was wearing. How someone with such an odd sense of fashion managed to get into your pants in the first place was beyond you. Aside from that, you realized dimly that you bit off far more than you could chew just looking at his crotch where he seemed to already be semi hard.

He noticed your stare and gave you a sheepish but unapologetic smirk. “..Sorry about that, it has been quite a while since we hit port.” He hummed and dropped his trident on the floor, yet still close enough that he’d be able to reach it from the bed. You swallow thickly. “Huh.” You didn’t even know his fucking name- Oh god.

Before you knew it he was leaning over you, easily looming over you and pressing his face into the crook between your head and your shoulder, right next to your neck and putting both his hands on your hip. “Getting cold feet?” He sounded husky, his voice having dropped an entire octave as he shifted a little, one of his legs settling between yours, way too close to an unfamiliar heat pooling there.

Did you have cold feet? Obviously yes but somehow with him just handling you the way he did right now.. you didn’t feel like running away and for the hills. “Ah, No- I’m good.” You breathed out softly, only for your inhale to hitch when he grabbed your top and pulled it off your upper body with ease, as if he had been waiting for the reply like a permission. There goes a layer of protection!

With a shaky gasp you resist the urge to cover up as the man looming over you re-positioned himself so he could stare with a hungry gaze down at your chest, grinning like he was about to commit some serious atrocities. Technically, you suppose he was going to commit some sort of sin any second now.

You’re basically blanketed in this beefcake of a man. You’re pretty sure he has more muscles in one leg than you have in your entire body. Though you were surprised he was being so gentle.. still. You would have thought a guy of his kind would just.. y’know, let use already. Carefully you put your hands against his chest. “Do you treat all women like a gentleman in the sheets?”

It was supposed to be a joke question but he just pressed into your touch before working on pulling your pants off, you had already lost your shoes and socks coming in here. “You’re not a prostitute and I’m not paying you for a service. Obviously I’m not just gonna lose it like a savage.” His tone twindled a little as he finally got your pants off, staring at your legs and grinning again.

You’re nervous. Had you ever masturbated, sure, of course. Sex with a stranger? Not so much. But he didn’t seem all too worried as he moved his body back a bit, grabbing you by your hip and lifting you like this until your shoulders and arms were with your head the only point of contact with the mattress. Oh wow.

With a weak pant you stretch your legs a little until they rest on his shoulders, averting your eyes and making him snort a little. “You’re awfully bashful who almost went full commando in front of the entire bar.” He murmured. You could feel his hot breath against your skin, only your panties right now separating him from your spot.

“You talk too much for a guy about to eat me out.” You narrow your eyes at the wall, your words coming out a bit more forceful than you wanted to but your whole body jerked as suddenly, as if in reply, he pressed his nose into your crotch, rubbing his face a little against the fabric. “Fair.”

His teeth chomp down on your underwear and you blink at the feeling as he suddenly pulled back- “Hey- Don’t you fucking-“ Rrriiiiiip- There goes that piece of clothes and you looked in dismay at the torn pieces dropping onto the mattress, where the dude just fucking left them. “Are you serious? I’m not swimming in-“

Again, you’re interrupted. This time by the feeling of a mouth directly on your lower lips. With a surprised whimper your legs tense and you throw your head back in surprise. Now that he had started it seemed like the patience from earlier was gone to the wind. At least that’s what one could assume, seeing how he was already licking fat stripes up your sex.

This was hotter than it should be and it only ended with him raising the temperature as he gave a somewhat sloppy kiss to your, now slowly waking up, genitals. You could feel heat begin to pool, a familiar sense of wetness joining his tongue as he just pressed his tongue between your lips and seemed set on trying to fuck you with that muscle.

It was good, maybe because it had been a while you actively did something down there, maybe because the alcohol helped or maybe because you were just horny from the get go but it feel pleasant, waking your inner urged up with a gentle tingle that spread throughout your entire body and made your body shake with heady gasps.

And yet it was awfully not enough to really get you into the zone. Were you aroused? Most definitely. Were you capable of cumming from this? You don’t wanna try and imagine the timespan that would have to be invested for that. The tongue was good. But it was not enough, didn’t stretch you all that much if at all and barely reached deep enough to scratch the itch that had formed deep within you.

And then he bites you right on the inside of your tigh and you jerk upwards with a shocked noise that was torn between arousal and pain. “Fucking-“ He bites you again, closer to your female sex and you gasp, clenching your eyes shut. His gentle pace went sideways real fast as he began to almost violently dig his teeth into your skin right where you were the most sensitive.

Tugging on it, only to lick over the bruises and cuts afterwards and groaning lowly every time he did so. You yourself were left yelping and panting like a rabid dog, trying to keep your composure high and your volume to a minimum. “Nhhfg. God it’s been long. Spread your legs more.” But instead of waiting for you to do so he grabbed your thighs and just forced them apart to press another heated kiss onto your sex, licking over your clit with firm, long swipes of his tongue.

You’re going to space because all you’re seeing was stars. So much for not being able to come from oral but it felt like you were climbing this hill faster than anticipated. Close, very close- he dropped your body back down and wiped his mouth with his arm, breathing heavily as you made a confused noise. “I’m putting it in.”

At first you’re put off but it doesn’t last long as he just tugged his shorts down, revealing an aching, much bigger than anticipated, cock. His tip was already red with frustration- He must have been keeping it in for quite a while. It just made you a bit nervous seeing how ready to go he seemed.

Is there a way to fit that after months of going dry? He seemed to think so because he had already grabbed your thighs again to situate you two, the tip of his cock gently nudging your entrance. Oh god- You feel your body tense against your will. “First time?” Your gaze snapped to the man looming over you, a lazy smile tugging the corners of his mouth upwards. “Don’t worry.. we can take it slow.”

He muttered, right before beginning to press his hips forward and that at a steady pace. Your breath stops completely as you threw your head back and whined, needy and out of breath. That felt so much better than the impromptu toys you’ve been using or made yourself. For a moment neither of you moved, you just breathing and him rolling his hips every now and then, sending shivers up your spine as the need to get him to move grew.

And then the door opens and you tense completely, clenching up so badly that your partner cursed under his breath and slammed both his hands next to your head. You try to shrink and hide from whoever just entered the room and the huge man towering over you seemed ready to go full on primal on whoever was unlucky enough to cross his sight.

“What the fucking hell?! Never heard of kn- Nh?” He shifted, his cock pressing into a spot that made you bite the bottom of your lip as he looked over his shoulder. “Heat. I thought you were out for the night.” He grunted and his grip on your thighs relaxed, probably leaving bruises.

What the fuck was going on? Your arousal was stumped by the second stranger who was currently closing the door and walking in here. At first out of your view but then he did step into your line of gaze and god, what the hell. He looked like a zombie on steroids. He was as lean as Wire, a whole head shorter but his blue dreadlocks that ran along his back made him look oddly beautiful.

“The fuck? Send him out this instant or I’m leaving.” You snap at the man who was still buried deep inside you but he just gave you a somewhat pained and sheepish grin. “Just gimme a second-“ Hello? Are you having a fever dream? He’s literally balls deep inside you and about to start a chat with his buddy? “I was going to go to the bar but heard you through the door when I passed by.”

‘Heat’s voice was somewhat gravelly but much smoother than expected, semi deep but nothing too extreme. His eyes were resting on you as if you were some expensive alcohol he wanted to try out. It made you anxious.  “Can you stop staring?! Fuck! What’s with this-“ There’s a big hand on your face.

Asshole! “Getting bothered?” The dude balls deep in you jested but his buddy, instead of denying it, rolled his shoulders. “Depends..” His face was flushed and he looked definitely bothered. Flustered even. His gaze settled on you again. “I guess it’s been a while..”

You shove the other’s hand off your face finally, making him snort a little as he looked down. “Thought I’d need to invest in a whore but she’s awfully better. Tight and all shy like.” Heat scoffed from where he stood, walking over, slightly more leering now. “You’re making it sound good, Wire.”

Well, now you knew both their names. You just groan loudly and throw your head back. “I’m losing my mood!” You shriek agitated, only for Wire to pull out a little and thrust back into you. Right in front of his friend. It was horrible and oddly making you feel hotter- You’re not into exposing yourself or humiliation though so you wrap your legs around his hip to keep him still.

Wire made a noise like he was a dying animal and shivered above you as his cock was stuck seated deep inside of you, pretty sure he could break out of that hold but he never did. He just grunted and began to hump against you. Heat murred softly, lowering his head to get a good look at you. You cover yourself as much as you can, ready for him to say some douchebaggy thing.

“..Can I join..?”

Leave it to life to prove you wrong. His hand had come up to cover his mouth a little, a faint blush gracing his features as he gave you a steaming look and just waited on you. Embarrassingly you don’t say no right away. You actually consider it. Wire groaned above you, trying to thrust into you still but not freeing himself. “Whatever- Can we just get to it?!” He complained even though he’s the one who started chatting to his pal in the first place.

What the fuck is wrong with you. You must be drunker than you assumed you had been- “Fine. No kissing on the mouth.” You grit out between clenched teeth, Wire above you giving a happy snicker at Heat perking up and averting his gaze. This was straight out of a bad porn clip.

Any moment now there’d be a pimp at the door waving cash at you three- Oh wow. Heat moved smoothly, easily enough slipping right behind you, forcing you to sit up until your upper body rested against him, his hands reaching around your middle to press a little onto your stomach, right under your bladder. Wire grunted. “You tryin’ to feel me?”

The man behind you just hummed. “As if I’d be able to feel that small-“ Wire snarled, his hips pulling back and then slamming right into you. “Ughnf-“ You bite your teeth together and your whole body was shoved into the burly man behind you. Oh fuck- You grab Heat by his forearms and cling to him for dear life.

The previous somewhat gentleness was gone as Wire pounded into you as if it was going out of style. Heat? The man had asked to join but he was seemingly content with slowly pushing your bra off, cupping your chest and pressing his thumbs over your nipples while panting into your neck. There was an obvious erection pressing into your back.

Especially everytime Wire slammed into you with the force of a speeding bullet train. Pleasure was building rapidly now, so rapidly you did not notice the man behind you take off his corset, carelessly throwing it on the ground with one arm before clinging to you again. The tall man between your legs gave a grim glare to Heat but it turned to a self satisfied smirk.

“Hold on..” He panted out, suddenly pulling out of you. Right before you managed to cum as well. God had to be shitting you. “Nhff- Fuck you!” Wire blocked a kick from your left leg. “Hold on- Fuck- This is gonna be good.” Right before he flipped you. Like a naked piece of meat, right onto your stomach with your face slamming right onto the zombie’s hard cock that was hidden behind his pants.

Said zombie made a low, surprised and startled moaning noise as his whole body trembled aggressively. He wasn’t even naked yet and you could feel his cock twitch against your cheek as he grabbed the back of your head with one hand, shaking and twitching as if resisting the urge to just press you right in there.

Wire helps. He reached over to put his hand over his partners and press you right into the others crotch. “W-Wire! For fucks s-sake-“ Heat panted, by now completely flushed and flustered. If not for Wire shoving his cock back into you, you’d probably find it cute. But Wire, as said, shoved his dick bad in so deep that you were sure he could poke you right in the womb if he stabbed you any harder down there.

Somehow you still found it cute. Heat was holding onto you, grinding his hips as if he was nothing but a dog that was about to piss on the carpet, knowing it’s not allowed but gonna do it anyway. “Heat- Heat, pull down your pants.” Wire panted from behind you, his breathing short and choppy, everytime you clenched he groaned. Heat didn’t seem to be paying much attention, too busy palming at your back, reaching over to grope your ass and knead the flesh as if you were some sort of stress ball. Oddly, this seemed to get him going just as hard.

His cock was practically dancing in there, right against your face. The attention of two men on you gave you a confidence boost you didn’t know was possible, reaching over to grab the band of his pants and yank it down. The man in front of you had a hitch in breath, arching his back a little. “Nhff.. Hff..”

It put you a bit off, seeing how he gave you this steamy look but not saying anything. Wire to your aid. “He’s into it. Just-“ His voice cuts off as Heat scooted a bit back, shaking his head with a breathy whimper. “I’m pent up- G-Gimme a second.” The man supported his weight backwards with his hands, having let go of you.

It made for a nice presentation. Your gaze fixated on the hard cock in front of you, twitching and.. very inviting. Even though he scooted back a bit you could see just how hard he was. If you thought Wire’s equipment seemed stressed earlier? Heat looked like a volcano about to explode.

And then there were the piercings.. A Jacobs Ladder staring right at you, five rows of silver gleaming in the light, a bit of precum having reached the first row. Wire behind you made a soft noise. “Let’s team up..” He panted. You’re confused about that but when he slammed into you the next time he reached over to grab his friends ankles and drag him close, right into your zone.

You shouldn’t. The blue haired man gave a keening noise as his bare cock ended up rubbing right against your skin, trying to jerk his legs back but Wire had them in a steel vice. The noises he made got only worse when you reached out and took his hard organ into your hands. “Oh! Oh fuck- Hff- I’m gonna-“

You were gonna too. Wire’s thrusts had slowed down a little, losing intensity but they were driving you up the wall fast enough. What’s the most logical thing to do? Tag team. You press his cock a bit closer to your face and lick a fat stripe up the other’s skin. Heat yelled out, throwing his head back but you didn’t leave him the chance, propping yourself up a little so you could take his head into your mouth.

Never in your life did you think that you’d be giving some stranger a blowjob but sucking on the other’s hard on while getting plowed from behind put you into a new world, full with new possibilities. Heat’s hands had clamped onto your shoulders, massaging the skin while Wire’s hands were clinging to your hips, bruising them.

“Ouh- Oh fuck- Fuck!” The blue haired man curled a little, his eyes screwing shut with bliss as you worked over his cock. Your hands massaging his shaft, your mouth on his tip and all this while Wire was still thrusting into you. You’re gonna- You do.

Your body cramped up when you came, clenching down on both men front and back. Wire cursed loudly, his pace stuttering and his grip getting even more brutal before with another slam of his hips he suddenly dragged out of you. At first you were confused but then the hot spurt of cum on your ass reminded you that the man hadn’t been wearing a condom.

Bless him.

Heat was, surprisingly, the one who lasted the longest but not much longer than Wire, just as you were popping your mouth off his cock, your hands squeezing it, did he cum. Your first blowjob you were not gonna guzzle some stranger’s fluids. Who knew if he had something.

Bit too late to think about it now but it’s not like you were living on the edge- You slump forward against the man in front of you, sprawling, exhausted. All of you were panting. Oh.. fuck.. This had been.. so much better than any sex you ever had in your life. Which wasn’t exactly much but-..

“Yeah..” Heat’s hand was on your hand, you don’t lift your gaze, closing your eyes to try and rest a little. “We..” Wire groaned a little, settling down next to you and putting his head onto Heat’s right leg. The man himself leaning against the wall. Suddenly Wire wrapped his arm around you to pull you close, Heat still having his hand on your head. “We are fucking keeping you..”

[concussed-to-pieces]

Stay Safe Part Ten: Shereshoy

Fandom: The Mandalorian [Star Wars]

Pairing: The Mandalorian [Din Djarin]/Reader

Rating: Holy shit M.

AN: Welcome, welcome! Rejoice my step-children, for today is prime indulgence hours. You've waited long enough. Enjoy!

Tag List: @wrestlingfae @huliabitch @toxiicpop @renegademustelid @helplessly-nonstop @culturalrebel @sinnamon-bunn @literal-fand0m-trash @hoodedbirdie @fioccodineveautunnale @thyestean-feast @kateb013 @hxldmxdxwn @lizajane3 @thewaythisis @nellyneko @oh-no-who-am-i @crownofmanga @talesfromtheguild @robbinholland @kylolover96 @lukesrighthand @lackofhonor @lightan117 @misssilencewritewell @theorderoffallenstars @iwantsethrollinstohitmeintheface @fan-g0rl

Part One: Should Have Known Better

Part Two: Tranquil Turmoil

Part Three: Vibroblade Mettle

Part Four: Reaching Out

Part Five: Dark Past

Part Six: Go Alone

Part Seven: Like A Ghost

Part Eight: Savior At High Noon

Part Nine: Swan Song

Interlude: How He Sees The World

Shereshoy [pronounced sheh-REYSH-oy]:

"Lust for life and much more." "Hanging onto life and relishing it." A uniquely Mandalorian word meaning the whole-hearted enjoyment of each day and the determination to seek and grab every possible experience, as well as living to see the next day. Unrestrained, unrestricted, wild and eager.

...x...

Waking up with the clammy chill of bacta all over your body was not an experience that bore repeating. Somewhat like being Shanghaied. You weren't sure how you could feel both sticky and slimy, but the sensation was managed with flying colors. 

You had only been in the Nevarro med-center once before, when you had accidentally degloved your fingertip in a rivet hole. As you were an independent contractor (who normally prioritized trades of goods or food over credits in exchange for your labor) the best you could get at the time with your limited funding was a bacta patch. Your left index finger still bore a faded ring of scar tissue around the first knuckle.

So when the droid nurse in the medbay informed you of the fact that you had been healing in an actual bacta tank for a little over half a cycle, the blood loss and internal damage having nearly done you in, you were thrown for a loop. 

"You organic lifeforms are so foolhardy, always pushing your bodies too far." It scolded after removing the basin of lukewarm water that you had scrubbed your face and hands with. The artificially warm tone of its vocoder took some of the bite out of its words. "You have been cleared for removal from the tank, but I would advise against strenuous activities for several days."

You nodded from the cot, still staring down at your legs. You were a bit dazed, a bit fuzzy on the details of how you had gotten here in the first place. Your last intact memory was of tilting your head back to watch Moff Gideon's ship soar through the sky with the Mandalorian attached. After that, there was nothing but vague flashes, more sensation than visual. "How...how much is this going to cost me?" You asked, trying to remember the conversion rates for liquids and solids and whether bacta counted as a liquid or a solid. Was it sold by the pound or by the liter? Maker, this would be a hell of a debt to work off.

The droid tittered strangely, patting your arm. "Oh, I suppose you would not recall being delivered to us. The man who brought you in paid the deposit for the tank, and then returned three days later with the rest of the credits. You are very fortunate to have such a good friend!"

The man who brought you in. "Was...w-were they a Mandalorian?" You knew you sounded a little too desperate, but you couldn't bring yourself to care at the moment. 

"You do remember! Yes, that is correct." The droid affirmed cheerily.

"Do you have any way to get in touch with a man named Greef Karga?" You rushed to inquire as the bot turned to roll back out the door. You had been about to ask for Cara, but decided against it at the last second. You were uncertain if she was still...at odds with the law.

"The leader of the Nevarro Bounty Hunters Guild? Of course, everyone knows how to contact him! But you rest, rest rest. If I can get ahold of him and if he's not busy, I'm sure he'll be along shortly." The droid assured you.

You flexed your hands with a soft yawn after it left, and then you settled back against the pillow. Every muscle in your body felt a bit stiff, likely from lack of use. Half a cycle. Two weeks. Maker, you had nearly died. What a horrible scenario. 

He had nearly died. Your throat ached with an unnameable emotion, you hand sliding down to graze over the new scar on your side. It was larger than you expected, and you flinched when you actually looked at it. Better scarred than dead, you thought pragmatically, even while tears welled up in your eyes. You blinked them away, biting your lip.

You only meant to close your eyes for a moment, but when you opened them again, it appeared to be much later in the day. Afternoon sunlight was pouring in via the small window over your bed, the tiny fan doing little to combat the heat seeping through the sheet that covered you.

You heard someone clearing their throat beside you and you turned your head, eyes landing upon the visage of one Greef Karga. Posted up beside him was Cara, her arms crossed over her chest. "Oh! Sorry, I didn't mean to doze off." You apologized, floundering to sit up.

Greef waved off your words. "Relax, we've only been here for a few minutes. You looked so peaceful, we didn't want to interrupt." The older man jibed. 

"You gave us a hell of a scare, rookie." Dune scolded, sharply contrasting with Karga's lackadaisical opening statement.

"How did...what happened?" You asked nervously.

"Well, it was all very dramatic. Mando blew Gideon's ship clean out of the sky with one of those fancy gadgets he's got, then he gave you a quick burner patch on the spot." Karga mused, "Your Mandalorian caused quite the stir when he came back here with you. Damn near kicked the doors down."

"Not mine." You corrected him automatically. 

Cara scoffed and Karga raised an eyebrow. "Are you entirely certain about that, my wayward little friend?" You gave him a confused look and he shrugged, adjusting his body in the obviously-uncomfortable folding chair beside your cot. "Well, I suppose it doesn't matter. Really, I ought to thank you. If you hadn't dragged that metal-plated moron off the battlefield, I'm certain we would still be under ex-Imperial control. I got my best hunter back, and a new enforcer to boot." Greef said with a smirk, gesturing up and down at the sturdy dropship trooper alongside him.

"Glad to be of assistance." You informed him dryly.

Karga chuckled at your wry tone, and then folded his hands in his lap. "All joking aside though, it's good to see you out of that tank. I think...I think it'll do him some good as well." The older man sighed, "For lack of a better word, he's been inconsolable since the big brouhaha. Gonna' run the Guild out of bounties if he keeps it up."

You cocked your head, asking, "What do you mean?"

"I mean, Mando has an interesting way of coping with his emotions." He elaborated dryly. "I get the feeling he's one of those people that, if he wasn't a Mandalorian, he'd probably resort to panic baking."

The idea of the armored man in a bakery somewhere (probably using his flamethrower to carmelize the top of a crème brûlée or to dispense justice to unruly customers) sprang into your mind unbidden and you burst out laughing. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I just--that's such an image, I-" you wheezed helplessly.

Greef chuckled again, taking your hand. "Do me a favor, alright? I promise it won't be difficult."

"Absolutely." You agreed quickly. After all, Greef was probably the one responsible for feeding the Mandalorian the bounties that had funded your healing time. Stars, the debt you owed the armored man seemed to be climbing higher by the second!

"He's due back in two...maybe three days, if his hunting track record is anything to go by." Karga squeezed your hand gently. "Go to see him." The serious tone of his voice caught you a little off-guard and you shook your head at him after a moment of silence. 

"I doubt he'll want to see me." You mumbled. "I mean, I left the ship because he told me he didn't want me involved. He said...he said it was Guild business. Then, I ended up getting involved anyway and...well, almost killed in the bargain. I guess he was right to try and keep me out of it." You rubbed at the scar on your side nervously. It sat just above where you had landed on Calican's buckle, puckering the skin slightly where it had once been smooth. You weren't certain you would get used to the odd sensation.

"That's why you left?" Cara sputtered. "He said he hurt you. I gave him an earful and everything!" She grimaced. "Now I feel like an asshole."

"He...what?"

"Yeah, he said that he 'lost control' and hurt you, and that it was better that you stay as far away from him as possible. He sounded all kinds of fucked-up over it." Dune pursed her lips, eyes narrowing. "If he didn't believe that he deserved it, I doubt he would have just sat there and taken the tirade I unleashed. I uh...I lit him up pretty good." She finished with a wince.

You stared up at her, somewhat dumbfounded. "O…Oh." You replied weakly.

"I think...well, it's not my place to say, but I think he'll be happy to see you. As happy as a Mando can be, anyway." Karga said quietly.

You thought back on every instance you had heard the smile in his voice, the precious times that you had made him laugh--

And you nodded firmly. "You'd have to knock me out with beskar to keep me away."

Cara grinned and thumped her forehead against yours. "That's the spirit!"

Greef's laughter was raucous (and a little sheepish) and you couldn't help joining in. 

...

Getting back into the Crest was the easy part. The worst issue you encountered was that it was raining softly, making a humid haze rise from every surface and ensuring that you would leave footprints. 

After two members of the Guild offloaded the carbonite plaques and trotted away with their hoverskiffs, you slunk out from behind the crates and bolted forward.

It only took one try to get the combination this time. He hadn't changed it. He usually changed it once every three days, so that was strange.

You entered the cool, dark hold with a small amount of trepidation, tiptoeing towards the ladder as the hatch slid shut behind you. Soft sniffling from behind the bunk shutter met your ears faintly and your heart broke. Almost before you could think about it, you hammered your fist down on the controls to raise the barrier. 

The kid was sitting in the bunk, little hands pressed to their eyes while they snuffled and whimpered. They looked up at you in panic and it was so strange to see the second that they recognized you. They stumbled forward into your arms, those tiny claws scrabbling at your damp tunic as they sobbed. 

"Oh sweetheart, sweetheart…" you whispered, cradling them close to your chest. "I'm right here with you, it's alright now. Everything will be fine." You stroked the back of their head, blinking away your own tears. 

They started hiccupping, their little body jolting with the force of it, and you toted them into the refresher. With a bit of cajoling, you got them to hold still while you swabbed over their face with a warm cloth, cleaning off the grime of the day and those tear tracks. 

They were still sniffling slightly when you pressed a cup of water into their little hands. "You're probably thirsty after all that hard work, huh?" You asked softly, sitting down cross-legged on the floor in front of the bunk. "I wonder how long he's been gone for." You continued, thinking aloud. The child hurriedly gulped down the water, holding the empty cup back out with a little whine. "Ha! Of course, as soon as I sit down." You teased, hauling yourself back up to refill the paper cup. "Alright, slower this time. Don't want you getting a tummy ache." You instructed, holding the cup for them so you could moderate their sips.

You watched as their huge ears began to perk back up. They looked for all the world like a freshly-watered plant, and the mental comparison made you snicker. 

"My favorite little mudjumper." You sighed, straightening out their teeny robes. At least they were clean and dry, not that you had anticipated the Mandalorian letting the kid's health or hygiene fall by the wayside. Knowing him, he was probably more likely to forget to wear his helmet than cause the kid to suffer.

You sat there peacefully for a while as the sky outside darkened, just listening to the rain beating on the hull and stroking your fingers over the kid's head. The child sprawled out on your chest, their eyes slowly sliding shut as you continued to console them.

You were eventually roused from your staring contest with the floor by the sound of the ramp extending and then heavy footsteps. The cargo bay was almost pitch-black now, the only light coming in from the now-closing boarding ramp. The rain was still beating down, though. It had picked up while you sat, drumming a tattoo on the roof high overhead.

There was a faint click and machinery hummed to life, the hold becoming softly illuminated by the orange running lights beneath the floor grates. Your heart lurched in your chest when you spotted the Mandalorian fiddling with his gauntlet by the loading ramp, obviously focused on it. Your heart now felt like it was about to beat out of your chest. It was a miracle you didn't wake the child with the frantic motion alone!

You couldn't move. You could barely breathe, your nerves threatening to strangle you. All you could manage to do was sit there in silence and just...wait. 

How would he react? Would he be angry that you were here? He had paid for the bacta tank, would he require you to pay him back? The thoughts bounced around in your head frantically, making your stomach drop out with apprehension.

He grunted something, sounding upset as he dragged a hand down over the front of his helmet and sagged against the wall. Maybe you shouldn't have done this, maybe...maybe you should have waited to see whether he sought you out first.

Your brow furrowed. No. You had done enough of that. It was your turn now.

You heard his breath hitch and you realized belatedly that you had stopped paying attention to what he was doing. Clearly he had noticed you, if the tilt of his head was any indication. His hands fell slack at his sides, like he had forgotten about his gauntlet entirely.

"Didn't mean to startle you." You said quietly, not wanting to rouse the child that was still slumped over on your chest. 

He didn't move. Didn't respond. Hell, you weren't even certain if he was breathing anymore. He just stood there, his cape dripping a small puddle onto the grating beneath his feet. 

The kid yawned, smacking their lips and snuggling back down against your collarbone. 

"Put the...put the kid in his crib. Please." The Mandalorian requested. His tone was even, giving you absolutely nothing to go on as far as gauging his thoughts. 

Stars, you had missed the sound of his voice. You almost didn't want to admit it, but it was the truth. 

You carefully got to your feet and turned, laying the child down in their bassinet. Your hand hovered over the controls to close the protective shielding, silently waiting for confirmation.

"Yeah. I...yeah. Please." He muttered. 

Once you had done so, you shifted back to face him. You kept your eyes on your boots though, unable to look at him just yet. Anxious nerves wrung the life right out of your voice, making it crack when you finally began to speak. "I-I'm sorry. I know you didn't...I know that I went against what you told me to do, b-but--" You heard him swear and then a sharp clatter met your ears. He must have lunged across the hold because abruptly, a set of gloved hands were cupping your face and dragging it upwards. 

You had shut your eyes and tensed up on instinct when you saw the hands coming, so the mouth that pressed to your own was a bit of a shock. You froze, then sighed with relief and leaned hard into the kiss. Your hands rested on his chest, greedily pawing the familiar beskar (and the not-as-familiar way that it pitched under your touch). He groaned against your lips and pressed your back to the wall, his own hands grasping for purchase on your shoulders.

He had missed you. Or at least, it certainly seemed that way! Any other thoughts you had at the moment fled under the assault of his desperate mouth.

He exhaled raggedly and then buried his face in the junction of your neck and shoulder. He didn't say anything for the longest time, one hand falling to clutch at the fabric of your tunic over your side. His shoulders heaved and you realized he was crying, breath wheezing through his teeth from where he had bitten down on his glove to stifle the sound.

You kept your eyes closed and cautiously, carefully, you slid your hand up into the hair at the nape of his neck. "I'm here." You whispered. You felt his knees buckle and he swayed, forcing you to grab a handful of his soaked flight suit to steady him.

"M' sorry, I-" he rasped. "I'm getting you all wet. The rain, I..." 

"Yeah...I don't know what they call it on Mandalore, but here, we call it crying." You teased him softly.

He actually laughed at that, pulling back a little. "Guess now I know why Karga and Dune told me to take the day off. I went to the medbay and you weren't there, I-I figured you'd left Nevarro for good. Why…" he swallowed hard, then continued, "why are your eyes shut?"

"I uh, it was mostly a reflex." You admitted. "Should I…" Your throat had gone bone dry. "Sh-Should I open them?" 

"I…" He hesitated. "You already know my name."

Din Djarin, the words tripping over one another as he struggled to get them out through a mouth that barely worked--

"Well yeah, but that doesn't give me viewing privileges." You retorted. "Hell, that doesn't even give me permission to use your name. Knowing it is only a part of the equation."

"Do you...want to use my name?" He sounded breathless.

"I mean, I wouldn't--I wouldn't mind it." You admitted weakly after a few seconds of hemming and hawing. "Only if you're okay with it though!" You rushed to add, feeling as if you needed to make sure he knew he could retract the offer. "I know that it's got a lot of weight to it." He wasn't angry at you. He wanted you to say his name and see his face.

"I'm terrified." He replied bluntly. "I haven't shown anyone...well, ever. You're the only one that's--I-I mean, you're the...you're it." How could someone make you weak in the knees while also simultaneously being absolutely, entirely, outrageously awkward? 

"I can start with your name, and if you still want to...I mean, you make that choice, okay?"

"I want you to see. I just don't know if I…I mean, the idea of you...I thought you were going to die, all because I screwed up, pushed you away. I want--I need to make sure you don't...that you don't…" He struggled with his words, gloved hands wrinkling your tunic beyond hope when he tightened his grip. "I can't, not again. I'm so sorry." He finally muttered. His mouth pressed to your neck, kisses trailing wet and hungry over your skin. "Please, please say my name."

"Din." You whispered, again struck with the sensation that you were breaking a multitude of rules as you felt him shudder bodily. "Din...Djarin."

"Shit." He groaned, tilting his head back. "That's...that's nice." He sounded a bit faint.

"Please don't pass out." You murmured. "All the beskar would absolutely crush me and I don't think you want to try and scrape me up out of the floor grates."

He choked out another laugh, wet gloves smoothing over your hair. "Sorry. M' just tired. This feels like a dream." He sighed heavily. "I have to wash up. Get out of this suit so it'll dry."

"I'm all for getting you out of the suit."

He smiled against your neck, "yeah?" 

"Mmhm." You nodded, blindly reaching for the clasps on his gription harness. 

Between your sightless fumbling and his hungry kisses, it took much longer than normal for him to get out of his armor. He couldn't seem to stop kissing you, seeking your mouth again and again.

"Making up for lost time." Din grunted, finally managing to divest himself of his flight suit altogether and then jerking the liner shirt off over his head. He pressed his body to your own and you flushed wildly. Last time he hadn't even fully removed his flight suit, and he had kept the liner shirt on. It was surreal to be able to touch him like this.

He seemed to agree, if the helpless noises in his throat were any indicator. You trailed your fingers along his chest, sliding boldly down to stroke through the thick curls that started right above the waist of his compression leggings. "Pare, wait, I need…t-to shower." He pleaded, his hands fumbling on your shoulders. "H-Have to do this right." His forehead bumped against yours. "Have to do this right." He repeated, now grinding himself down into your palm instinctively. You easily found the thick arch of his cock through the leggings and you couldn't resist giving him a gentle caress before you pulled away.

His breathing sounded distinctly shaky. "Okay. Go ahead." You urged him, making a shooing gesture in what you hoped was the direction of the refresher. 

"Hang on," he protested. "Wait, ch-changed my mind, come here."

"Mm, nope! Go shower." You cupped his jaw, feeling him swallow hard. "Get cleaned up. I'll be here when you get out."

"Stay...stay at the sink?" He bargained. You could hear him fumbling with something, probably his leggings. 

"Absolutely." You kissed his nose. "Now go shower, you smell like wet Wookie." 

He embraced you without warning, wrapping his arms around you tightly and pressing his cock against your stomach. "Wait for me." He requested, the kiss that followed absolutely voracious. You clung to his shoulders, rendered helpless under the attack of his mouth. 

"Y-Yeah, 'course." You stammered when you could think again.

He took your wrist and led you forward until you could touch the sink, and then he got into the shower. "When did you wake up?" He asked after he had keyed the shutter closed. 

You opened your eyes and leaned back on the sink, tapping your chin. "It's been about...three days?"

He swore under his breath and you heard a metallic rattle. "Shit, c'mon, stupid-" The water abruptly burst on and he yelped. You couldn't stifle your laughter, though you did try. "So glad my pain amuses you." He groused through the divider. "Here I was, coming back to my ship all torn up, thinking that you were gone forever and that I'd never see you again."

His words were annoyed but you could hear the soft sadness in his tone. "I think I've made it abundantly clear that I don't know how to leave you behind." You replied gently. "Plus, bacta tank time isn't exactly cheap."

He scoffed, "Yeah, we need to talk about that. Later. Once we're in a proper headspace for it." He was silent for several minutes, the only noise the running water of the shower and the thunder of the rain overhead. "I don't...look, the bacta doesn't fucking matter. I'm just...I'm glad you came back," he muttered finally. "Glad I didn't ruin everything like I thought I did."

"You've got an uphill battle ahead of you, Din." You luxuriated in saying his name, though your words were ultimately serious. "Why didn't you tell Cara the truth? She said she yelled at you pretty bad."

"I did tell her the truth." Din sighed. "Look, I hurt you. You can't say that I didn't. Physically, emotionally...wounding happened. You didn't feel welcome to stay anymore and I sure as hell didn't give you a reason to." There was a quiet thud. "I knew she would rip me apart and honestly, I think I needed that to parse everything. But stars, that woman took the paint off."

You grimaced. You could only imagine the awful things she had (probably) shouted at him. You heard the shower turn off and you shut your eyes again, tilting your head at the sound of the shutter sliding.

"Mm, I could get used to this." He murmured. All you got for a warning was the rustle of a towel and then, he was on you. His mouth claimed your own and he chuckled when your hands immediately found his damp hair. "You really like that, huh?" He commented, sounding amused.

"Listen, I've been through enough. Let me have this." You complained, yanking playfully at his shaggy locks and laughing when he grunted. 

"You keep it up and I'll let you have a lot more than just that." He threatened, peppering your cheeks with kisses. He then grabbed the hem of your tunic, stripping it up off your body to leave you there in your breast wrap. The breathy noise he made was enough to have you flushing hot; you could almost feel him looking at you. "Maker, I don't deserve this." He whispered as he pressed his palm to the faint scar on your side. "Any of this. Over this...half a fucking cycle, I kept thinking that I must have made you up. That there's no way someone like you could even be real."

He sounded reverent again and it made your head spin, it had you gripping his shoulders while he slid down your body to peel your pants off. The mental image of him naked on his knees in front of you--

Stars, you wished you were brave enough to open your eyes.

One large hand slipped between your thighs, urging you open with the gentle press of his other hand hooked right above your knee. "Let me see you, let me see." He breathed, his fingers groping forward until they encountered your slick. You squirmed a little, hoping that he wasn't put off by how wet you already were. You couldn't really help it, of course. "Oh, fuck, you're s-so--you're dripping for me, fuck." 

"D-Din…" Your fingers were in his curls again, and you gave a gentle tug. 

His tongue-

You felt the inquisitive, flat press of it against your cunt and you gasped out, quickly tilting your face up so that you wouldn't see him if you accidentally opened your eyes. Wait, if he's not supposed to take off his helmet--

Your thoughts ground to a halt when he moaned from between your thighs, wedging his shoulder in to keep your legs apart. "Taste--t-taste so-" he mumbled, laving sloppily over your clit. "Good, fuck. Good." His fingers spread you wide, allowing him unrestricted access to your most intimate parts. You knew you ought to be embarrassed about being splayed open like this, but you couldn't seem to muster up the feeling over the sensations you were being gifted.

Din was clearly spurred on by your enthusiasm if his sounds were any indication, his already limited words dissolving into soft growls and rumbles as he ate you out. 

That wasn't exactly the correct term for what he was doing, really. He was devouring you, his nose clumsily bumping into your clit with every other motion, his hands trembling as he tried to keep you still under his ministrations. You thought it couldn't get any better, but then his tongue licked inside of you and you couldn't help the way your voice broke when you cried his name, one hand flying up to cover your mouth. Having your eyes closed did nothing but intensify the feeling of surrender, you were his prey and he was hungry.

The snarl that he let out in reply had you quivering, his tongue fucking your cunt almost lazily. He was teasing now, drawing it out. "Beg me." He slurred, smiling against you. "Beg."

"Please--oh f-fuck, please, please-" you whimpered, almost in tears when he backed away.

"Please…?" He trailed off and you abruptly understood what he was waiting for.

"Please, Din, p-please make me come." You begged pitifully, your hips twitching as they sought out his mouth. 

"One more time?" He implored, groaning after you fisted your hands in his shaggy curls again.

"Please, Din, please let me come, p-please, please--" Your voice cracked when he hitched your leg up over his shoulder and buried his face in your cunt. He locked his hot, wet mouth around your clit, rubbing his tongue down on it in a focused attack that had your knees buckling, chest heaving, nails digging into his scalp and-

Your Mandalorian, Din Djarin, was not a man who did anything by halves.

You fell apart, soaking his tongue with your orgasm as you sobbed out his name again and again. He moaned hungrily, the noise sending vibrations through your sensitive sex and making you shudder while he continued to move his mouth, continued to gently lick at your cunt and lap up your come. 

"Are you alright?" He asked cautiously once he finally took pity on you and let you catch your breath. 

"'Am I alright', like you didn't just take my soul out of my body with your tongue." You panted.

"Yeah?" There was a smile in his voice. "Alright." With a quiet grunt, he got to his feet. "Wasn't sure if I'd be any good at it, but-" You cupped his jaw, delving your tongue into his mouth to catch a taste of yourself. He choked a little, obviously startled when you bit down on his lower lip and tugged it gently. "You...more?" He queried, sounding hopeful. 

"Yes, absolutely yes." You answered breathlessly. He hesitated for a second, his arm brushing your shoulder on its way by. 

"There. Turn around and open your eyes."

You did so, stumbling a little on your still-unsteady legs. When you blinked your eyes open you realized that he had opened the tiny mirrored cabinet over the sink, effectively rendering the reflective surface harmless. You wanted to feel disappointed, but you knew that he would do it in his own time, on his own terms.

His hands roamed up your body, unraveling the binding that you had to support your breasts. They fell into his palms and he exhaled harshly in your ear, the heated air making you shiver all over as he pressed himself to your back. He toyed with your breasts inquisitively, squeezing them and teasing your nipples with his calloused fingers until you were writhing back against him, wordless pleas making their way out of your throat. "What? I didn't catch that." He murmured in your ear, roughly sinking his teeth into the shell of it and making you keen loudly. "Something you want?" 

"Din-" you protested, leaning a little further forward in obvious invitation. He fell silent and the head of his cock rubbed against your pussy, coating the shaft with your slick. Agonizingly slow, he pressed in until his tip was inside you.

"Hah, f-uck, you're…" His forehead hit the space between your shoulder blades and stayed there as you squirmed, trying to push back onto him. "Mmfuck, I have t-to be...y' tight, cyar'ika, breathe-" 

"Sorry--" you whimpered, startled when he nipped at your shoulder.

"Don't f-fucking apologize, don't y' dare--" Din stammered indignantly, "gripping me like a f-f-ucking vice, don't want to hurt you." His hands smoothed down over your hips and he clumsily repositioned you, arching your back a bit more to open you up. 

You exhaled and you heard him grunt in what sounded like relief. He then penetrated you fully in one long, smooth thrust, the mass of him punching the rest of the breath out of your lungs and leaving you grasping blindly at the sink for something to anchor yourself. His cock was so thick, you felt like it was searing your insides and branding you as his forever. 

Your Mandalorian.

You shakily pushed yourself up and wrapped your arm around his neck to support your body as he began to stroke into you against the sink, your eyes sliding closed before you could glimpse him in your periphery. 

His lips pressed to your cheek and one hand groped over your stomach until his palm ground down on your pubic mound, sending stars across your vision and making you whine out his name. You tilted your head back down to stare dazedly at his arms around you, watching the way his musculature coiled and bunched with every thrust. Maker, he was strong. 

Din kept your back pinned tightly to his chest, giving you his cock without mercy as he rambled disjointedly in your ear about how much he had missed you, about how much he craved you, how much he needed you-

"I-I love--" His voice faltered, then he gritted his teeth. "I l-love you, y--you know that, r-right?" Din blurted out desperately. 

"I--" the breath caught in your throat, due in no small part to the man currently fucking you into sweet oblivion. "-love you." You managed to say, closing your eyes and knocking the side of your head into his. 

He made a pained noise, one hand reaching forward. "Open--open your eyes. P-Please, please open 'em." He begged. 

"Are you-"

"Fuck, fuck fuc-k-k I need it pl-ease," Din cried, his voice rasping and then cracking. "Need you to see, need you to see, need it need it need it--"

The sound of his breathless, sobbing entreaty was more than enough to convince you to oblige him, and so (eventually) your eyes fluttered open.

It took a minute, but you managed to focus on the now-closed cabinet in front of you. The mirrored surface revealed the man that you had saved, the man who had, in turn, saved you. 

He had his eyes downcast, no doubt transfixed by the sight of his cock splitting you open again and again. His hair was shaggy; brown, a few grays peppered in here and there. Heavy, furrowed brow, square jawline, full lips currently pressed together in a concentrated grimace. Several fresh-looking scrapes and bruises littered his face. His nose was a little crooked, like it had been broken several times, but that wasn't surprising. Mandalorian helmets, for all their protection, did sport incredibly flat fronts.

Your Mandalorian, Din Djarin, was devastatingly attractive even beneath the armor.

"Hey," You breathed and he jerked his head up, dark, dark brown eyes meeting your own for the first time. You were abruptly breathless, and not simply because his cock felt like it was making itself at home in your chest cavity. You curled your fingers weakly on the nape of his neck, the motion almost a wave. "You could have w-warned me that the helmet was for my protection, not yours."

He tilted his head to the side, illustrating his confusion even without the helmet to mask his expression. His hips pressed to your rear almost idly, rutting his cock as deeply in you as it could possibly reach.

"Didn't expect you to be so h-andsome." You gasped, a guttural cry leaving your lips when he shifted his weight to drag his cock back out of you.

His smile was incredibly shy, an awkward little tilt of his lips before he buried his face against your shoulder blade again. Maker, was he...was he blushing? 

You had made a Mandalorian blush. While he was pounding you into the next cycle, no less. You could feel the temperature difference of his face and you giggled, your breath hitching.

"Don't--don't laugh at m-me, dammit." He grunted. "Not while...I'm f-fucking you like this--"

"Not--at you," you panted. "I j-just love you, that's all."

He choked on his next breath and his tempo stuttered, that thick cock throbbing inside you. "Who do y-you love?" He whispered, his hands fondling your breasts.

"Din Djarin." You replied quickly, arching your back a little more.

"Ah--a-and I love--I love you." He groaned. "So...so much." He slid his hand down again, spreading your cunt open so he could play with your clit. You could hear how wet you were, and it filled you with a delight that was borderline shameful. "Come on me. Want you t-to...f-ucking soak me, soak my cock, c'mon." He demanded hotly in your ear, making brief eye contact with you in the mirror. His look was smoldering, burying itself in the hungry tension that teemed in your groin. "I can feel you, fucking squeezing me every t-time I talk, so come, come on me--"

Your clit was unbearably sensitive from your earlier orgasm, every motion of his body sending shockwaves through you. You squirmed and writhed but he had you trapped, safe and secure and begging you to submit to the pleasure he wanted to give you. It was almost too much to bear; you felt tears pricking the corners of your eyes when you finally succumbed with a primal growl.

Din didn't stop, though. He fucked you through your orgasm, fucked you into the blinding delight of overstimulation and pressed the heel of his palm down onto your pubic mound once more. You could feel his cock twitching, could feel how tense his thighs had gotten, Maker you could feel everything and it was a blissful torture. Thoroughly strung out, all senses ablaze, you begged him to come.

"I want to, I want to, gedet'ye I w-want to so fucking badly, I want--" Din chanted. Without any ceremony, he thrust his fingers into your mouth and pressed down on your tongue, urging you to extend it and lick his fingers. You obliged almost automatically and he dragged his now wet fingertips down your chest to roll and tweak your nipples hard.

You clenched down on him without conscious input, your pussy in spasm around his cock as the cool air combined with his rough little tugs to rouse and torment your breasts. You sobbed out his name again and again, pleading for relief and praying it never came all at once.

He met your eyes in the mirror, pupils blown wide and his mouth just barely open, and-- "Oh, fuck." He choked. "I love you." And then he came, wrapping an arm around your midsection to keep you firmly planted in the shuddering cradle of his thighs. He bucked into you over and over and you knew you were dead weight but you couldn't bring yourself to move, moaning helplessly in his trembling grip. "Ner, mine." He grunted. 

"Mmhm." You breathed, too beyond words to function at this point in time. 

He let out a breathless chuckle, threading his fingers through your hair. "You're mesh'la, beautiful. My beautiful little mudhorn." He sighed.

"Again...with that name." You replied haltingly, the air slowly returning to your lungs. He slung both of his arms around your waist, holding you tight to his chest once more. You were bewildered by your body's reaction, aftershocks hitting hard enough to make your legs shake. "Couple of things that come to mind when I think of a mudhorn." You continued after a few deep, deep breaths. "Beautiful and little are definitely not among them. I tend to think big, and dangerous. So you know. You."

"I remember the first time I thought of you like that." He murmured in your ear. "You had just killed seven raiders. I came into the hut and you were ready to kill me too."

"Oh...oh." You trailed off, flushing slightly. "I-I wouldn't have, you know I wouldn't."

"Mm, I'm not so sure." He exhaled into your ear, making you squeak. "It was intense. I...I'm pretty sure that was it for me. Fought for so long, y'know, but it was useless. You took my heart with that look, cyar'ika."

"You really...I mean, you thought about me like that?" You asked shyly. And it was an insane thing to be shy about, considering the fact that his cock was still inside you. "You mentioned some things the last time we...uh, got involved, but I assumed you were just saying stuff to get me excited."

"I don't know how to talk like that." He answered you bluntly.

"That's a lie." You retorted. "You told me you fucked your hand thinking about me!"

"Mmmultiple times." He drawled the 'm' out in a self-satisfied manner, kissing down the side of your neck.

"That's not you just trying to say something...y'know, to get me worked up?" 

"I said it because it's true." He muttered, "should I...should I not say things like that?"

"No, no, you definitely should!" You backtracked quickly. "It's just...it's nice to know that you were thinking about me even before I was...well, masturbation material. It's nice that you saw me, I guess I should say."

"I always saw you." He breathed, his fingers sliding up the side of your neck to tilt your head so he could kiss your cheek. "Saw you play with the younglings. Saw how you took care of the kid. Saw how you protected him. Saw how you took care of me."

Your flush was a raging inferno at this point.

"I don't remember a lot about the...whole situation with Ran's group. Xi'an's poison threw me off my track pretty good. But I remember…" Those brown eyes half-lidded as he collected his thoughts. "Remember you singing to me."

"You asked me to." You whispered. 

"I don't mind that memory. Out of all the ones that I have, it's one of the few that isn't shit." Din mused, adding, "today's nice too, don't get me wrong. No deadly neuro-toxins to take the edge off either." He wrapped his arms around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder and swaying you gently back and forth as you watched him in the mirror. Stars, you were still a little tongue-tied at how handsome he was. "I need you to promise me something, stowaway." 

"What is it?"

"Don't you e-ever try to fucking die on me again." His voice cracked, "okay?" He dropped his forehead against your shoulder. "Please."

"Din…" You said softly, stroking your fingers through his hair.

"Just...just promise me that." He choked out. "If you get hurt, fucking tell me. If something happens, if…shit, if something goes wrong, please--please, don't hide from me. I'm sorry f-for...I'm sorry that I...I fucked everything up. I'm so sorry. All I've been able to think about is how much you m-must hate me. You were almost killed because you were pulling my stupid, stupid ass out of the fire."

"Hey, hey. You literally told me to stay out of Guild business. You can't blame yourself for my inability to follow your instructions." You protested, nudging your head against his. "I'm an adult and I take full responsibility for my own stupidity when it comes to you, okay?"

One large hand trailed down to skim the scar from the blaster wound and he huffed, sniffling quietly. He pulled your hips back more firmly into the seat of his pelvis, shifting his weight a little. "All heart and no fucking armor to defend it." He managed to say.

"You've got more than enough for the both of us." You replied gently. Then, you whimpered as he palmed over your breasts again, his fingers tugging your nipples mercilessly. "How are you still-"

"Missed you." He rasped, his words husky with longing and unshed tears. "You're so warm. Sensitive. I love...I love you. Don't want to stop touching you."

"Din--" Your voice broke as he rolled his hips, his cock hilted in you deliciously.

"Mm, one more? Maybe?" He begged.

"I don't know if my legs are going to last that long." You confessed. "Or the rest of me, to be honest."

"If it's too much for you, I'll stop." He breathed in your ear. "Can tell me to stop and I'll stop."

"I don't want you to stop, but I'm just-"

"'But' means you need me to stop." Din interjected softly. "I'll stop." 

"Wait, wait, it's just that--I'm-!" Your orgasm struck without warning as he attempted to withdraw, the drag of his cock over your spot making your vision briefly white out from the overload. You shuddered and writhed, the pleasure nearly to the point of pain as your inner walls clutched at his cock. You couldn't help the way your nails raked into his arm, clawing for purchase.

You vaguely heard him moan, "oh, f-fuck--" the words nothing but a gravelly rumble. He struggled to keep pulling out, rambling about how tight you were like he couldn't even help it. "Easy, easy cyar'ika--relax, relax relax. You grip me so--f-ucking-"

"Sorry, sorry-" you sobbed, your words catching in your throat as you felt the head of his cock finally leave your cunt with a lewd, wet sound. It was like a breath of relief and anguish all at once; you were too sensitive to handle more but you had missed him so much-

He tipped your chin back with one hand, kissing your forehead clumsily as he dragged his other hand over the inside of your thighs. "Mm, shh, no apologies. Gonna' come." He slurred through gritted teeth. "Right here, just l-like this, using your come to fuck my hand. You ready? Ready for my come?" 

Your words failed you at his declaration and all you could do was nod, drowsily meeting his gaze in the mirror. His breath hitched again, like he was startled. It was wildly endearing to know you had that sort of effect on him. "Love you." You whispered, propping yourself up with your elbows on the sink to enjoy the show.

"Hnn, f-fuck, fuck-" he panted, "that's not fair. With the eyes too? N-Not--not fair, you can't do that."

You just smiled sweetly, arched your back and he lost it. His release hit the small of your back and you listened to him gasp and grunt his way through his orgasm with an exhausted tremor of delight. He came for what seemed like an eternity to you (and him as well, if his voice dissolving into a broken, raspy growl had anything to say about it). 

"You make the nicest sounds." You complimented him once he seemed to be able to breathe again. 

"Wh...What?" Din croaked after clearing his throat several times. 

"Your voice. It's nice. I like it."

"Um…huh." His fingers absently smeared the come on the small of your back. He appeared to be at a loss for words. "I should...uh. Get a...something. Gotta' clean. Don't move. I...yeah, don't move." He said finally, awkwardly clearing his throat again and avoiding your eyes in the mirror.

"Helmet back on?" You suggested. He froze, looking a little guilty. "Hey, no. It's part of your life. It's who you are. Don't ever worry about putting it back on, okay?"

"I'm sorry." He mumbled. 

You swatted his leg. "What did I just say? Listen to me when I talk!" You chided. 

"I know, I just-"

"Nope! Nope. You're more comfortable with it on, right? You're used to it. That's how your world is and that's fine." You assured him. "I'm a new addition. That's only if you want to keep me around, of course."

"Don't you dare say something like that." He grumbled, obviously bashful. "'Course I want you around. I'm not letting you out of my fucking sight for at least a week."

"Is that...possessiveness I detect in your tone, Djarin?" You asked in mock surprise. "I didn't think you had it in you!"

He scoffed, shaking his head and then walking through the bay to pick his helmet up from its forlorn place next to the loading ramp. "More like soul-crushing anxiety over your wellbeing, but that too I guess." He grunted after donning his familiar headgear. He padded back over to the fresher, reaching into the shower and scooping up a washcloth.

The water was cold and you yelped, making him flinch. "Fuck, what, a-are you alright?" Din stammered, palms cupping your hips gingerly.

"Could have used warm water." You squeaked, wriggling a little in an effort to shake off the chill. 

He breathed a sigh. "Maker, don't...don't fucking scare me like that." He muttered, obligingly running the cloth under the hot water tap. "I thought I hurt you."

"No no, it was just cold. Sorry." You apologized, feeling a little sheepish. The cloth was barely lukewarm when he laid it back on your skin, but it was absolutely better than it had been the first time. 

His motions were clumsily tender, like he wasn't used to being careful. When he moved lower to run the cloth over the inside of your thighs, he slowed to rub circles on your still-trembling muscles. "Maker, I...you're shaking." 

"Yeah, you kind of gave me a workout." You teased, turning your head to smile at him over your shoulder. "Also, I think I'm still supposed to be taking it easy. According to that nurse, anyway."

"You're what." 

"Supposed to...uh, you know what? Never mind." You tried to brush it off, but he rose to his full height and wrapped his arms back around you.

"If you're supposed to be taking it easy," he growled in your ear, modulated voice sending that familiar tremor through your body, "I shouldn't have just railed you against the fucking sink."

"Hey, I needed that. You did too. Don't act like you didn't, Djarin." You stuck out your tongue, blowing a raspberry at him. 

Din shook his head, tapping the helmet against your temple. "I wouldn't have made you stand. Would have...would have laid you down or something." He eased your full weight against his chest. "Are you sore?"

"Not really. A little achy and stiff, but that's okay." He hummed disapprovingly in his throat, tugging you back a step from the sink. You flung your arm around his neck, clinging to him as your legs tried to dump you on the ground. "Not hurt!" You insisted when you heard his breath hitch. "I promise. Just well-fucked."

"Still. You can barely stand. We need to lay you down." He murmured, smoothing his palm over the top of your head. "You want the bunk?"

"No, we can't both fit in there." You tightened your hold on him without meaning to. Don't go. 

"I don't want you to be on the floor if you're hurt." He protested.

"I don't want to be alone." You hated how your voice cracked. "Please, Din. Not right now."

"Oh. Oh. Alright, I...alright. I didn't mean...I just didn't want you to--the floor isn't comfortable." Din fumbled to say, his thumb rubbing over your knuckles. 

"I lived with it before, I can definitely manage it now." 

The jaw contour of his helmet gently pressed to your cheek like a kiss. "Okay. Give me...I'll get some more blankets together or something. You stay still." He ordered sternly, patting your hip. "Stay."

Your laugh was a little shaky. "I'm not the kid, y'know." 

Din grumbled something under his breath, sounding exasperated.

…

You had no idea that he even possessed this many blankets. You blinked down at the pile, certain you recognized a few blue ones from your stay on Sorgan. 

"Something most people don't know about Mandalorians is that we build nests." Din informed you, his voice utterly deadpan.

"You are...a liar." You sputtered, giggling when he nuzzled his helmet into the crook of your neck. You had taken a quick shower while he was distracted by his nest building, so your skin was still warm and a little damp. His beskar squeaked slightly at the moisture.

"I could be lying, yes. But I might also be telling the truth." He reasoned, tugging you down to settle on the floor. 

"This is the Way, right?" You teased, cupping the sides of his helmet. He stilled and your smile slipped a notch as you remembered the way you had thrown the phrase in his face, how heartbroken he had sounded when he begged you to wait. 

Hesitantly, his hands raised to cover your own. "This is the Way." He intoned quietly, pressing his forehead against yours before continuing, "With you. I'm never leaving you behind. Ever again." 

"My Mandalorian." You whispered, relief making your eyes slide closed. "Thank you, Din."

He breathed, "Thank you for loving me," his tone unbearably soft even through the modulator. "Thank...thank you for saving me, my little mudhorn."

Your chuckle was a bit more watery than you would have liked. "That pet name is going to take some getting used to." You stroked the sides of his helmet. "Luckily, I'll have plenty of time to do so." You proceeded to press your thumb to his sternum, drawing it downwards. He did the same to you and you could feel the affection he had for you radiating through the delicacy of his touch when he softly tapped his fingers to your lips. "I promise." You whispered, your own fingers making a dull ringing sound on his beskar helmet. 

He just...stared down at you for several long moments. Long enough for you to half-lid your eyes again, lashes sweeping down as you focused your gaze self-consciously on his knees.

Slowly, slowly, his hand extended, and you could see it shaking ever so slightly in your peripheral for a second. "I share my name with you." Din slid his index finger down your jaw. "I share my face with you." He trailed his hand across your visage from temple to chin, his fingertips barely grazing your skin. "I share my body with you." He cupped his palm tenderly over the top of your left breast (no doubt feeling the way that your chest heaved excitedly under his touch). "I share...I share my heart with you." He murmured, threading his fingers through your own and raising them to his chin. "This is a riduurok bond. An oath that I swear to you. It's...it's very important." His sentence dissolved into a bit of a mumble, but you still heard him when he stammered, "s'a marital...l-love bond."

"Oh." You replied dumbly, before erupting with, "oh! Oh, you're--oh wow, stars, okay. What...uh, what do I have to say in return? To say yes?!" You rushed to ask, certain your eyes had gone glassy with tears.

"If...um, if you accept, y-you just...repeat what I said, and the gestures." Din seemed flustered by your enthusiastic reply, his hand trembling in your grip. "You...you really-?"

You tapped your index finger to the apex of his jaw contour and he fell silent. There was no possible way he could feel your touch through the armor, and yet you were still incredibly careful. "I share my name with you, Din." You breathed, your finger gliding over the beskar without so much as a sound. You then gently, so gently, rested your palm on the flat front of his visor. "I share my face with you, Din." 

"Maker, yes." He sighed, knocking his forehead roughly into your palm before you swept it down over his face like he had done for you. 

Your fingers splayed above his left pectoral, digging in a bit more than you needed to. "I share my body with you, Din." He shifted restlessly under your touch and you could feel your cheeks ache with how hard you were smiling as you took his hand in your own. Turning it over, you scrutinized his bruised knuckles with a soft noise of distress. Then, you raised his fingers to your lips and kissed every bruise, every battered knuckle, every scar that crisscrossed his olive skin.

"Please," Din begged brokenly, his voice nothing but a breathy groan. "P-Please."

You obliged him without hesitation, tapping your joined fingers against your chin with an air of solemn finality as you stated, "I share my heart with you, Din."

From his spot on his knees facing you, Din all but fell forward, cradling the back of your head with one hand as he pressed you down into the soft cocoon of blankets with his weight. "You precious...mesh'la...stars, you mean so fucking much to me." He gritted out, his voice almost pained while he framed your hips with his thighs. "So much, so much I don't know enough Basic for it. You are fucking healing, mirjahaal, you are rain, pitat, you are soft, pel, you are fucking stunning, kandosii'la, you a-are--you are dral, ner cabur, ner haal, you are...haar'chak, osi'kyr, I always lose my words." He growled in frustration, resting his forehead against your own. "My mouth can't even try to whisper what my heart screams. M'not used to talking so much." He admitted, sounding defeated.

"I hear you anyway." You assured him softly. Din raised his head, leveling that visor with your eyes. 

"How?" He asked desperately.

"I hear you when you speak with your hands. I hear you when you speak with your concern. I hear you...I h-hear you when you speak with your body." Your breath hitched and your eyes closed as he rolled that body against your own in one long, sensual grind. "I don't need you to talk if you can't. I hear you just fine, I promise." You managed to finish, even with his deliciously-distracting form stretched languidly over you.

"Then," Din hesitated. His hand sought out the scar on your side yet again, fingers caressing the marked skin. "I…I love you." He mumbled.

"I know, Din." You smiled warmly up at him. "I love you too." He ducked his head against your shoulder, like he was trying to hide his face despite already wearing a helmet. "Don't be shy!"

"I'm not shy, I-I'm…" 

"You're not used to this. It's new. That's okay." You cupped the back of his helmet. "I'll be here to help you figure it out. The kid and I." 

"You are my aliit, my clan. I'll...I'll keep you two safe, I promise. K'oyacyi." He choked out, his hand trembling when he drew the circle on your chest and rubbed his knuckles gently in the center. "My armor for you and the kid. My whole body. Anything you need." 

You slipped your legs out from beneath his thighs and opened them a little wider, letting him relax down into the sheltered harbor of your embrace. "Shh," you soothed, running your palms up and down his tense back. "Everything is fine. All we need is you. We're safe. You're safe with me. You can rest, sweetheart."

Din sighed, digging his hands into the blankets beneath your back. "Safe." He slurred. "Can't lay on y' though. Too heavy...lemme'..." He clumsily grappled with your body, somehow managing to roll the two of you over without accidentally braining you with his helmet. "Better." He grunted, threading his fingers through your hair and resting your head on his chest. "Should...put my suit back on."

"Five minutes." You bargained, stroking down the line of his visor. "Would you like me to sing for you?"

"...mmhm." He agreed through a yawn, his head drooping when he nodded. "Five...f-ive…"

You smiled as you listened to him struggle against sleep to try and talk to you, his breathing finally evening out after a few more minutes of incoherent mumbling. You pressed a careful kiss to his forehead and then snuggled down against his chest. "Stars fading, but I linger on dear...still craving your kiss. I'm longing to linger 'til dawn dear, just saying this…" You half-whispered, your words petering out as you too succumbed to the allure of slumber.

The future was uncertain but, if only for this brief moment in time, the two of you found solace in the other's presence.

Stay safe, sweetheart. K'oyacyi, cyar'ika.

[haikyuu-sickfics]

I accidentally deleted all the original asks but I got them copied

Also; going on hiatus

-

hello, may i request a sick kita and the whole team goes to take care of him because no one's home with him? can i request a sick kita fic and the whole team visites him? Hi, can I request a sick Kita fix and the team goes to visit him at his house?

Shinsuke's absence wasn't immediately noticed during morning practice.  Though, what was noticed, was the slight off-ness of the teams dynamic. No one could properly place their finger on the odd change in atmosphere, how everyone was just ever-so-slightly more restrained than usual.  No one felt the usual omnipresent pressure urging them to do play to their limit, nor did they even notice that they weren't playing their usual. Aran puzzled over this mysterious feeling for well over half of practice, flubbing easy recieves and stumbling on flat ground as his mind struggled to apply an explanation to the ball in his chest. He took one more count of the team, thinking of their number and looking for their face. 2... 3... 4... 5... Wait. "Are we missing someone?" Aran wondered outloud, already knowing the answer. "Kita-kun is out today, he sent a text saying he's come down with something," one of the coaches confirmed, not looking up from his notepad. Once the absence was announced, everyone felt it's full force.  Various members of the team began to slack off, distracted by concern for their captain.  The coaches, who noticed the sudden drop in performance, decided it best to call practice off a bit early. Most of the team walked off to change into their school clothes, however a small handful remained to discuss the elephant in the room- or rather, the elephant missing from the room. "It feels weird without Kita-san here," Osamu commented, his thought drifting off into the dense atmosphere. "D'ya think he's alright?" Aran added, eyebrows furrowed with concern. "I dunno... isn't Ba-chan gone this week?  Who's there with him?"  Michinari deduced out loud, nibbling on his inner cheek. "Shouldn't we get him something?  Like a get-well-soon card at the very least?  Remember when Atsumu got sick and he gave him that bag," Rintarou brought up, shoulders raised to warm his neck. "Yea!  We should make him a basket!  We can put like food and drinks and toys and then all deliver it in person!" Atsumu chimed, enthusiasm pouring out of him. "Wouldn't that put us in danger of contagion?" Ren- the only one not completely blinded by Shinsuke's aura- countered. Michinari shrugged his shoulders before countering, "we can wear masks.  Plus I'm sure he's more concerned of contagion than we are- he'll have something figured out." "So we'll meet up at the usual place after the bell?" Rintarou asked. Various guestures of approval responded to him before the group dispersed. -- It had been 5 minutes since Ren had walked up to their meeting place, greeting Aran, Rintarou and the Miya's with a small wave.  Michinari had yet to show up, leaving the small gathering with arms crossed to ward off the cold. "Can't we just go without him?" Atsumu whined, impatience tearing at his every muscle. "If you want to be on his bad side, be my guest," Aran countered, arms raised in surrender, "but don't come crawling to me when yer ankles get bit." Atsumu scowled- though much exageration was put into his words, Aran did have a small point.  No one in their right mind sought to be on Michinari's bad side.  They wouldn't get physically hurt, but the cold shoulder from someone as cheerful as the libero was enough to debilitate anyone. "I'm here!  I went to the konbini to get stuff!" Aforementioned libero shouted, jogging up to the group with plastic bags hanging off his left arm while his right was raised with greeting. "S'bout time, c'mon let's go," Ren responded, leading the group towards the Kita household. -- "Knock knock, open up!" Michinari shouted through the door, "we brought soup and stuff!" "It's unlocked," A voice, certainly not Shinsuke's, croaked from inside. "Who's with him?" Rintarou wondered outloud, voicing the thoughts of everyone in the group. "Let's find out," Michinari pushed open the door. "Kita-san!  We're here!" Atsumu shouted, his hands cupped around his mouth. "Shhh!  He prob'ly has a headache," Osamu reprimanded, chopping his brother lightly on the shoulder. "He's over here, guys," Aran observed, calling

the rest of the team over. Curled up on the couch in a cacoon of blankets sat none other than their captain.  A cold compress sat on the floor, long since abandoned.  Ghastly pallor accentuated the black and red rimmed eyes resting above flushed cheeks.  Dried tears and sweat decorated his discontent face. Michinari was the only one who had the courage to approach the blanket blob, wrapping his arms around the lump before sitting next to it. "Yew're so hot!  How can you be comfortable with all these blankets on?" "Everythings cold and I don't know why." Removing his left arm from the hug, Michinari brought his hand up to check for fever.  Brushing aside the damp fringe, the skin on Shinsuke's forehead was radiating heat.  Frowning, Michinari checked his cheeks, brushing away the tear tracks gently with his thumbs. "We need to take some of these blankets off, you have a really bad fever," Michinari asserted, his voice shockingly serious. "But... what if I become cold again?" Shinsuke pouted. Standing in the corner, the group was aghast by how out of character the third years were acting.  No one had expected Shinsuke to be so... well, sick.  Their captains state was discouraging, the sight left their hearts aching with the want to help. "Kita-san," Rintarou began, taking a tentative step forward, "we'll be here to make sure you don't get cold.  You'll feel better sooner if you take off some of the blankets." Unease swirled in his stomach.  His tongue felt heavy, almost as though it was choking him.  It did not feel right for Rintarou to be talking to his composed captain in such a way.  Shinsuke was supposed to be the one with a clear mind and unclouded judgement, he should know the logistics of fevers. Instead he just frowned, not moving as Michinari peeled the blankets away. "It's cold again," he practically cried as fresh air came into contact with his skin. "Is this better?" asked Michinari as he pulled Shinsuke into his chest.  The two were roughly the same size, but the latter's huddled figure allowed the two to fit together like a puzzle piece. "Are they... y'know?" Rintarou flopped his wrist. "Nope, Akagi's like this with everyone," Aran responded, picking up the discared konbini bag, "I'll heat up the soup in the kitchen, you guys find something to do." Mumbling something about rice, Osamu followed Aran out the door.  Ren walked over to the couch and scooped the wet cold compress off the floor, setting it on the table before addressing his underclassmen. "Can one of ya's replace this?" Rintarou jumped onto the oppurtunity to be of use, picking up the dripping material between his thumb and forefinger.  A momentary grimace flashed on his face as the unpleastant texture shocked him, but he was able to quickly steel himself and take the object away.  While he was occupied, Ren busied himself with folding up the blankets, placing them neatly in a stack on the floor adjacent to the couch. At this time, Rintarou returned with a freshly dampened rag, carefully folding before gingerly swiping back Shinsuke's hair and lining the fabric up where scalp met forehead.  Initially, the ill captain winced from the cool touch before relaxing into it as Rintarou continued smoothing his hair back.  The repeated motion coupled with the middle blockers careful application of pressure provided for an incredibly soothing feeling. It wasn't until he caught a glimpse of Michinari's smirk did he revoke his hand, a light flush spreading across his features. "Oh c'mon, why'd you stop?" Michinari whisper-spoke upon seeing Shinsuke's face fall. "You, he.  The, and, cold warm hand," Rintarou responded. "Yea okay, well, if ye're just gonna stand there like Hachishaku-sama why don't you have a seat behind me and fill the gap between me n' the armrest," Michinari smiled at his own light hearted taunt while Atsumu cackled - the latter earning a cocked eyebrow for his hypocrasy, "'M backs killin' me and I'd love something to lean against right about now." "Oh, sure yea.  Yea okay," Rintarou sat on the couch normally, his

right shoulder towards his upperclassmen. "Yea, this isn't gonna work, I'll just slide back," Michinari nudged Rintarou away before repositioning himself. At this moment Aran and Osamu reappeared with soup and rice cupped respectively in their dominant hands.  Michinari looked down onto Shinsuke to prepare him for food only to discover the captain had already fallen asleep. "We'll just set these here until he wakes up.  They needed to cool down anyway," Aran informed, gently grabbing the bowl from Osamu and placing it next the the soup on the coffee table. "What now?" Atsumu wondered. "Well we got a couch, blankets, T.V and a remote.  All in favor of a movie- say 'I'" Michinari suggested, raising his left hand up. "I" everyone responded in near unison.

[angelanimedesaray]

A Soothing Touch

AN:  Wanted to get this out on valentine’s day, ended up not starting it till Saturday and finished it...technically about five minutes into Tuesday.  Oh well, I still wrote it.  And yes, this is pure fluff.  Not smut, fluff, even though I KNOW IT REALLY, REALLY LOOKS LIKE IT’S GOING TO BE SMUT, BUT IT IS NOT!!! I promise.  This is Reader Takes Care of Levi Fluff.  I am attempting established relationship Levi fluff, we’ll see how this goes...

Characters:  Levi, Reader

Pairing:  Levi x Reader

Warnings:  I think there’s one or two bad words, and I suppose a few suggestive comments *Gasp* How Scandalous!

Word Count:  1452

You could hear Levi’s long, drawn out sigh all the way from the bedroom when he finally came home late at night.  He’d been gone on another expedition--a rough one from the sounds of it--and was four whole days past the Scout’s original estimated return date.  You’d started to fear the worst, but the sound of the front door opening was enough to make all of those fears scatter in the wind.

Coming out to the front to finally set eyes on him again, you saw him leaning back against the door, face tilted up towards the ceiling with the back of his head resting against the door, eyes closed, and the air around him thick with weariness.

Levi’s eyes opened when he heard you crossing the room to approach him, eyes brightening as he took you in, pushing away from the door to stand up straight on his own.

“You didn’t trash the place while I was gone, did you?” he asked, gaze flickering briefly around the room to check its current cleanliness.

Instead of answering as you reached him, your hands caressed his jawline before you came in for a kiss, gently pulling him towards you.  For the first few seconds, Levi’s return kiss was reactionary, a reflexive response to your surprise advance.  After the initial surprise passed, however, Levi returned the kiss with /far/ more vigor, deep and intense as he pulled you into him, hands on your hips and in your hair.  Breaking away only long enough for air, his breath shuddered against your lips, a slight weave in his stance before he came in with burning fervor for yet another kiss.

Yes...it had definitely been a hard expedition.

When the two of you finally pulled apart, you kept your hands cupping his face, foreheads resting together.

“I missed you,” you murmured, earning another, much gentler kiss from Levi in response.  This time you pulled away, reaching to twine your fingers in his as you gently urged him to follow you.  “C’mon--you look like shit.”

You heard a quiet, brief laugh behind you, squeezing Levi’s hand as you pulled him along to the bedroom.  “You’re one to talk.”

“I simply look like I’ve been at home all day, which I have.  You looked like you were about to topple over once you shut that door,” you countered, plopping yourself down onto the bed and scooted over so Levi could join you.

Levi shrugged off his jacket and sat down on the very edge of the bed with a sigh, turning to look at you as he folded the jacket up but halted by the feel of your hand on his shoulder, messing with the straps of his harness.

“Y’know, I get it, I understand why they’re like this, but at times like these...this is ridiculous,” you muttered as your fingers slipped for the third time on one of the buckles, tongue starting to poke out as you turned all your frustrated focus on getting the damn things off him.

“You’re too eager to get me undressed.  Haste doesn’t steady your fingers,” Levi said, a slight smirk dancing across his lips as he reached around with one hand to cover yours and carefully undo the strap with a perfectly steady hand.  As he moved onto the next few straps, easily getting through the entirety of the upper half of his harness, you huffed, a light flush burning in your cheeks.

“That’s not actually what I was going for right now,” you muttered.  He was quieter than he normally was when it was just the two of you, which gave you the suspicion he was even more worn out than he was letting on, or the expedition had involved something nasty you didn’t want to spend too much time trying to figure out...or both.  And if he was as worn out as he seemed, then the more intimate welcome home could come after some well-deserved rest.

Instead, as Levi pulled off his boots and got started on the lower half of the harness, your hand gently wound its way into his hair, fingers slowly starting to massage his scalp.  He paused, head bowing slightly as your fingers rubbed small, relaxing circles along his scalp, before he finished taking off the last boot and undoing the last of his harness straps at a slower pace.  He hung the harness on the nearest surface and let his other hand undo the buttons on his shirt before he leaned back into your touch, which now included both hands that were slowly making their way lower, thumbs working at the knots you were beginning to feel along the back of his neck.

“Could you lie down for me?” you murmured into his ear, giving the smooth skin right below it a brief kiss.  A soft sigh escaped him at the feel of your lips on his neck, his shirt slipping off his shoulders before he started shifting to do as you’d requested.  Your eyes were on the bruises you could see discoloring his skin here and there--marks from a fight during the expedition, you assumed.  At least now you knew they were there, and you could make sure you avoided them so you didn’t accidentally hurt him.

Once Levi was lying down on the bed, head turned to the side and resting on the pillow with eyes barely open to gaze up at you, you let your hands move onto his shoulders.  Your fingers dug in here where there were no bruises and the tension made the muscles feel stiff below your fingers, thumbs rolling over some nastily large knots you were going to have to spend some time working on to work out.  Slowly, you felt his muscles relaxing under your fingers, watching as Levi’s eyes slowly closed, lips parting slightly as you felt his chest rumble with a moan he managed to just barely keep from passing his lips once your fingers started on a rather nasty knot a little lower down his back.

So the ritual continued, all down Levi’s back--where most of his tension was, especially those shoulders--and even along his legs and arms, hands and feet, just to be sure.  Several times you were sure he’d fallen asleep under the soothing touches working his tired, sore muscles to untangle the tension and bring him a relaxed warmth all through his body.  However, that notion would be chased away with a soft sigh or a barely heard moan from Levi when you worked a particularly rough spot, or when you caught him gazing at you with warmth in his eyes (Particularly when you’d massaged his hands, thumbs running gentle circles along his palms, his fingers clinging to yours in a brief squeeze before you moved on).

Once you’d finished, your fingers unable to find any more prominent knots and Levi looking on the brink of sleep for once, you gently brushed your hands along his shoulder blades, kissing the nape of his neck before starting to pull back.  You hadn’t even pulled all the way back from the bed when his hand reached out and caught your forearm, pulling you down onto the bed before you could react.  The sound of the sheets rustling filled your ears as suddenly Levi’s chest filled your vision, an arm wrapping around your waist and the other tucking your head into his chest, his face suddenly burrowing into the crook of your neck and breathing in the scent of your hair with one long breath.  He’d practically wrapped himself around you, holding you securely against him as you wiggled at least one arm free to drape around his back, hand lazily finding its way up to the back of his head to start playing idly with his hair and even continue to massage little circles along his scalp here and there.

“Thank you,” he whispered in your ear before kissing you in the same place you had earlier, letting a few more relaxed, gentle kisses trail along whatever skin he could reach with relative ease.

You smiled softly, closing your eyes as you simply breathed him in, able to hear the beat of his heart near your ear if you let the silence linger and listened for it.

“I love you...and I missed you,” you answered him quietly, nuzzling his chest affectionately.  He hummed in response, moving his head so that his chin rested atop your head.

“I love you, too.  It’s good to be home,” he said softly, the hand of the arm your head was pillowed on gently running through your hair, both of you slowly being lulled to sleep wrapped up in the comfort of one another.

[kaplanwrites]

02.6 Michael

Part5.Kon’s POV.

So maybe I put a little bit from Kon’s POV

maybe ‘Michael’ should be Kon’s POV actually

and post this whole part with Meyers’ Together, because let’s face it, Kon would be kinda sad during this one, maybe a little bit angry

maybe a lot

and yeah Mauling’s Terror tots would be his pov

Or probably I should make this theme song as Cleopatrick's depths? Instead of Tim's

***

Kon watched Tim, trying to figure out what changed, squinting his eyes and tilting head as if it would make the picture clearer. It wasn’t that Tim was more nervous about his work or more unforgiving in his _real_ work, he wasn’t impatient with EJ (more impatient than usual, at least) - if anything, he seemed kinda relaxed these last couple of months.

That was good, wasn’t it?

Except - at it was bugging him - he couldn’t understand what made Tim relaxed, there were no changes: they hadn’t begun to hang out, Tim still expertly managed to  turn off kid’s attempts to do something together, all three of them, still tried to balance between work at Wayne tech, favors for bats, oh so important PTA meetings, and to insert in this cocktail as much bonding with kid as possible.

Kon gets it, really, he himself had Titans and that huge-ass canvas that needed to be grounded, and a portrait order that hangs for at least two weeks now and going to deadline any minute now, and he had to get kid to park because little devil will never sleep if he won’t burn down at least tiny part of energy from him. And really, he never could comprehend Tim’s astonishing ability to bring the Kryptonian kid in two hours flat to the state in which he refused to move a muscle.

So he diverted his attention from the obvious to details, and yep, here it was, subtle stuff bats were so fond of: Tim returned cleanly shaved from work, or disappeared from office for hours (that he discovered kinda accidentally, when panicking assistant called Kon in search for Mr. Wayne who supposed to hold presentation in 40 minutes, but still didn't came back from lunch), or popped up at night only in time to patrol, smelling funny under the armor, like it was different person with different shampoo and different cologne under the very same-smelling cape.

And then, one day, about a half a year later, he left EJ with Dick, who was visiting for some huge exhibition to represent WE at it and went for patrol earlier than usually. A couple of circles around the city and one reluctant scolding of a group of street artists, he decided that day probably would be slow here and almost turned his metaphorical steps to ‘Slum, when he spotted a very familiar car, turning out from underground WayneTech parking. Figuring, that Tim probably would be home first, he dialed his number and waited. When the call was redirected to voicemail, he scanned the office underneath him for phone, wondering if Tim has forgotten it there. Redialing again, he averted eyes to Tim’s car in time to see how the phone was set on mute and dropped to back seat, and wow, that was. New? What if it wasn’t?

Peaked curiosity mixed with a bit of anxiety - was it some kind of undercover mission? - he followed the car until it disappeared in different parking - now Hotel’s.

Kon’s eyes followed Tim as he made his climb in elevator cabin to one of the upper floors, then to further end of the hall to knock on the door, which was promptly opened by a young dark-haired man. Kon took in this new guy’s look - wide shoulders, really tall, a would-be jock, if not for heavy-rimmed glasses - contemplating if he could be one of Met criminals, while Tim promptly went inside the room - fancy and modern-looking; king-sized bed, little guest area with sofa and a couple of chairs, desk in corner. Tim made his way to the desk chair and began to undress, jacket first, then tie, when he began undoing the cufflinks, the guy edging towards him with a positively sinister grin, brought hands to Tim’s throat. Kon’s TTK thrummed anticipating a fight, ready to interfere if needed, but the thing that happened next turned him flabbergasted: Tim leaned into un-jock’s arms, relaxed against his chest. Offending hands slid down Tim’s front and started to undo his slacks, while Tim worked on the button-down.

Kon watched, knocked on the head by the simple fact, that those very slacks he picked up on Friday from dry cleaning. The goddamn slacks that were abandoned for three weeks there along with Kon’s only good costume because neither of them managed to find enough time to finally pick ‘em… And now some random dude was groping his kid’s dad through those very slacks.

Is that how wronged wives feel? Kon barked a laugh, not noticing that his superhearing zeroed on the two men’s voices until Tim’s long guttural moan kicked him from stupor to discover sharp burning behind his eyes. He shut his eyes, feeling betrayed, and so angry, and started upwards, but even almost instant boom of the sound barrier around him didn’t vanish Tim’s voice from his ears.

***

...and then Kon loses it and is fucking molesting Tim, like ‘you like them dark tall and beefy, why the fuck would you look for it away from home’, and actually forcing himself to stop, but it turns out that Tim doesn’t mind really  (after discovered super boner) so if Kon’s going to deliver, he won’t stray

because they’re functional adults like that

***

And after that Kon rationalizes his anger with “you having side-dude would be bad for the kid”, and Tim laughs at his face and also at his hypocrisy.

And then they angry-fucks some more.

***

[theskyexists]

that knits up the raveled sleave of care Fandom: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power Oneshot Rating: T Characters: Catra, Adora, Melog Relationship: Adora/Catra

Tags: Roughhousing, accidental she-ra transformations, just a BIT of angst - oh shit that was the whole bottle, but even more fluff, melog is there and projects catra’s feelings, and the feelings are ‘i love adora’, lots of banter, a little bit of kissing

Preview:

Her pulse wouldn't stop racing, and she couldn't quite catch her breath. She'd never felt like this when they'd played as kids - not quite. It made her think of late nights, whispering after lights out, shadows finally banished by the dark.

She smelled really good.

"Are you sniffing me?" Adora teased. The impulse to deny it came screaming from the depths of her brain. Then she grinned.

She lifted herself up to look into Adora's eyes.

"So?" she purred, their noses inches apart.

_____________________________________________________________

Adora had stamina - even as a kid, she could run any of the assigned drills three times over if she wanted to. She could chase Catra for longer. And that's why Catra was fast, and agile, and smart (Adora called it cheating). It was why she was always cataloguing weaknesses, or opportunities for a trap - every potential opening to go for the jugular. Incapacitate before she could be overtaken. They were taught to think like that, to constantly evaluate their chances - it was beaten into them.

(Adora took corporal punishment like it really was a way to cleanse her of her failures. Catra scratched her disciplinarians' eyes out. That is, until it got Shadow Weaver's attention.)

Adora knew to assess and plan for a fight - but she didn't have to - not like Catra.

Catra knew that a single strike could count for everything, so all she focused on was how to do the most damage.

And how to hide.

Her attempts had been juvenile at first, hiding behind supply crates and under blankets. Even Adora had managed to find her. Though Catra supposed that, back then, she had wanted to be found. She quickly learned that few could see as well in the dark as she could - or lodge their nails into sheer steel. Dark hallways were safe, and by the time she was 14 she had memorised every bot patrol in the Fright Zone. Better yet, she could scramble up walls to nooks and crannies that no one even knew existed. Being high up gave her a good advantage - neither bots nor people were programmed to look up.

Now.

The world was no longer made of steel - it was made mostly of green, billions of plants having sprung explosively from suddenly ripe earth - hundreds of years overdue. Magic tingled on her tongue every time she took a breath. It filled her with energy, made her muscles work better, made her leap farther, surer. As she ran and jumped, the woods whispered faster, faster, as if in pure joy at Catra's presence. Fireflies lit her way, and it was easy to find purchase in the trees, to hide between the leaves.

Not that she needed to, wrapped up in Melog.

It hadn't questioned her when she left Bright Moon, had simply felt her desire for secrecy and enveloped her in its magic.

It was soothing, and familiar, like a second layer of fur. She'd never thought that magic could feel like that.

The sky had brightened in the east when Catra reached the top of the overhang, climbing up from the outside along new growth and old handholds. Thousands of stars paled just slightly against the growing light. Newly awoken magical bird creatures had started to sing.

The Fright Zone had changed. As the sun crept over the once-desert, still-jagged mountains, the place became a riot of brightest colour. The reds and oranges and pinks of the sky reflected off whatever steel surfaces still poked from between leaves and flowers. Scorpia had decided to give most of the buildings up to the embrace of time and the inexorable crush of plant roots, but others she had refurbished, with help from Perfuma's insanely powerful magic - to house ex-Horde soldiers of both clone and Etherian variety. The living floral arrangements that marked these towers made them look like crystallised rainbow puke, in Catra's opinion. But she guessed it was Scorpia's kingdom now to do with what she wanted. The fire of industry burned softly in only a few places, less like factories pumping out an endless supply of war machines and more like hearths nestled in the depths of a forest. Entrapta must have started on the last parts for Carla - Darla's new 'sister'.

Melog lay down beside a shrub, letting out a soft mraow. Let's nap, it said.

Catra sat back against its side, one hand on its head for scritching. She breathed, as Perfuma had taught her to, trying to let thoughts and memories pass her by like clouds. It was stupid, but it also worked, sometimes.

Catra had only just joined Melog in that state between waking and dreaming, her fur warmed by the sunlight, her eyes half closed, when a grappling hook finally clanged over the balustrade.

It was like a second, glorious sunrise, Adora climbing up and over the railing. The sight of her against the riotous sky made her breath stall for just a second. She allowed herself the feeling - the skipped heartbeat, the pleasant burn in her chest that followed.

Worry sat in the depths of Adora's pale-blue eyes and Catra felt a stab of guilt. It messed up the delivery of her line.

"Hey, Catra," Adora said quietly into the silence, shifting with uncertainty and withheld emotion.

"Finally!" Catra managed at last, "I bet a snail could have got here faster!"

Adora bristled, affronted, and Catra felt relief.

"It's not like you made it easy! I had no idea what happened to you - and you didn't even leave a note!"

Catra blinked slowly at her, smirk on her face.

"Oh poor Adora," she singsonged, "can't follow a simple trail. How does it feel to have the worst nose in the world?"

Adora let out a sound of annoyance and rolled her eyes, but the corners of her mouth had quirked up.

"I got here, didn't I?"

She stepped closer, stopping right in front of Catra - still sprawled against Melog's side.

Catra tilted her head.

"Wasn't that hard, was it?" she said, a small waver slipping into her voice. A lick of anger flared at the blatant sign of weakness - but she let it die down. She was safe.

Adora crouched in front of her. Her face melted into that stupid expression that made Catra feel fluttery and agitated and good. Her tail lashed.

"No," Adora agreed.

(She had always known to find Catra here.)

Suddenly Catra wanted. And it was allowed. She was allowed. She grabbed Adora by the lapel of her jacket and pulled.

"Wah-" Adora fell forward onto Catra, catching herself against Melog, who gave a sleepy little mraow-grumble.

Catra's stomach flipped when she put her lips on Adora's. Adora's.

Sometimes it felt like this was the answer to everything, everything that had happened, every feeling she had ever felt for her. Adora. Strong and soft and awful and amazing and ridiculous and wonderful and smug and noble and dumb and annoying and kinda...really hot.

Her stomach flipped again when Adora carefully put a hand to the back of her head and firmly moved her lips against hers.

And Adora wanted her.

Just when Adora relaxed, let her warm weight settle, Melog stuck its nose in and started licking her face.

"UGHH Melog!" Catra complained as she tried to push it and its slimy blue tongue away.

"Awww," Adora laughed, petting its head. Annoyance flashed through Catra and she shoved so hard that Adora lost her balance the other way, landing on her back with a muffled 'oomph'. She jumped her, pinning her shoulders.

Pay attention to me, idiot.

She'd miscalculated. The moment she perched on her hips, Adora flashed a smirk and put an elbow into her face, grabbed her arm and used her freakishly brute strength to flip them into a roll. Catra let out an outraged squeak when Adora pinned her. She giggled, but Catra wasn't going to let her win just because she was cute - or because having her on top of her felt kinda nice. She lifted her hips to loosen Adora's stupidly firm grip on her wrists, then slipped from between her thighs, tipping them over again. She realised she was laughing herself - high and excited. Like they were having fun, like they were just playing.

And they were.

Catra couldn't really tell what the feeling was that burst in her chest - kind of painful, kind of not.

After a lot of growling, straining, hands in faces, trying not to fall off the platform, and reversing positions - they came to a stop, Catra on top, panting into each other's necks.

Catra subtly rubbed her cheek into Adora's shoulder, though Adora's soft snort suggested that maybe it wasn't so subtle. Whatever.

Her pulse wouldn't stop racing, and she couldn't quite catch her breath. She'd never felt like this when they'd played as kids - not quite. It made her think of late nights, whispering after lights out, shadows finally banished by the dark.

She smelled really good.

"Are you sniffing me?" Adora teased. The impulse to deny it came screaming from the depths of her brain. Then she grinned.

She lifted herself up to look into Adora's eyes.

"So?" she purred, their noses inches apart.

Something went slack in Adora's face, while the muscles in her abdomen tensed almost imperceptibly. Heh.

Adora slipped an arm past her shoulder to thread her fingers through Catra's scruff, palm warm against her scalp, the simple weight of her hand inviting her down. Catra closed her eyes and let their lips meet. Soft. So recently, that would have infuriated her, it would have made her spit with disdain, with pain, the overwhelming desire to hurt.

Now, she languished in the feeling of Adora underneath her, lean and solid - squishy and perfectly knead-able in all the right places. Healthy - alive. Catra shifted, and Adora's hips bucked.

Then Adora slipped her tongue into her mouth and she couldn't muffle a groan. She realised that she was purring - had been purring for a while. She couldn't help it.

A warmth started from all the places where they touched, pleasantly suffusing her muscles and bones, tingling up her spine - and a blaze of magic painted her eyelids golden white.

Pulling back, she was greeted with a flustered She-Ra. Oh - this was too good.

"Did you just -?" Catra sniggered.

"Shut up!" Adora said, blushing. It suited the electric blue of her eyes perfectly. Catra gently flicked her claws out into her giant super-powered biceps. They were both still bleeding kaleidoscopic light into the steel floor - making grass grow where it shouldn't be able to. Leftover magic returning to Etheria, like She-Ra was a magic sponge that hadn't been fully wrung dry yet.

"I just felt..." Adora mumbled, not looking at her, but incapable of keeping from smiling, "really happy..."

Something squeezed deep inside Catra's chest and she swallowed. She carefully grabbed the gold wing-mask-thing and tossed it to the side, bracketing Adora's face with her own hands, fingers buried in her magically shiny hair. She pressed quick, hard kisses to Adora's cheekbone, her temple, her forehead, her cheeks, her jaw, her throat - feeling kinda achy. Adora made a choked little noise. Hmm. She nibbled a little.

"I really don't mind it," she breathed into her ear, putting as much suggestion into her voice as she could.

Adora went red. Catra grinned. She would never get tired of that - being the cause of that - it felt like winning, but good.

She meant it too. She'd hated She-Ra once. Not anymore. Even Catra could admit that she was beautiful. She was a part of Adora.

The new form helped. She looked like Adora, like a massive, fantastically powerful version of her. Not the ridiculous golden hero princess who'd stolen her away.

Adora's arms came up to loop loosely around her, powerful hands tracing feather light patterns on her exposed shoulder blades. She couldn't help the shiver that worked its way down her spine - couldn't help melting into She-Ra's warm body and nuzzling her face in under her chin as Adora moved her fingers up to the base of her ears. Her arms were a comforting weight on her. Weird, to feel so safe in a grip that could crush her, that once might have done just that, a grip she had countless times clawed herself out of before it could.

It made her feel small, but....not bad.

She purred, suddenly sleepy.

"When did you get here? Did you sleep at all?" Adora murmured.

Catra stiffened, and Adora stopped moving. Catra felt  the apology humming on Adora's lips - and she exhaled slowly. For asking a simple question. She tried to make herself relax.

"I couldn't," she said, a hand travelling halfway up to the back of her neck before she could stop it. "I couldn't breathe," she said quietly.

The arms around her tightened just a bit.

The feeling of drowning - it just - wasn't a feeling that was easy to forget. When trying to sleep - with her defences lowered - the worst things managed to creep in like shadows and strike, again and again and again. Adora could only do so much, could only soothingly murmur into her ear for so long, could only stroke her back for so long, could only stay awake for so long. Sometimes she was sick of trying, sick of the bombardment - all the ways she'd been hurt and all the ways she had hurt others. Sometimes, if Adora was sleeping peacefully, she gave up and left the bed to roam the halls, map out the best places to hide, try to climb the spires without wrecking the stonework, memorise the night guards' patrols, count the unnecessary waterfalls, check again where the food was stored, guess at what absurd princess functions different rooms served.

This night, she had wandered into the council room.

Well, that's what it was called now that the war was over. She'd played with the map projection on the table a bit in the dim. Horde and Rebellion positions had been wiped - all that was left were trade routes and markers for rebuilding efforts. Then she'd messed something up and the room lit up. Hissing under her breath she'd ducked under the table - and spotted the wall, aglow. Then she'd stood there for what felt like hours.

"The mural," Catra spat out.

She instantly regretted it.

Adora hummed, waiting for her to go on. Catra gritted her teeth. Was she stupid? She knew what was on that stupid wall.

"The Queen - Glimmer's mom," she ground out - throat tight.

Adora inhaled sharply.

Spite lanced her heart. You asked for it!

Adora kept silent and perfectly still.

The familiar flames of fury rose and seared her, protective - destructive. They burned and burned and then burned out.

Adora did not speak or move.

Unbearable doubt and self-loathing rose up in place of her anger  - she had to - she had to get away  -

Adora grabbed her tightly as she tried, as she struggled in acute panic.

"Stay," Adora said, pressing their cheeks together. Catra whined in pain, quietly.

But she stayed.

Focusing on her breathing, on Adora's breathing, on the fact that they were alive.

"Sometimes I wake up and everything is so perfect," Adora said slowly. Catra blinked at the non sequitor, chin lodged in the hollow of Adora's shoulder.

"I - I mean! I mean that, the war is over, and you're right there, in bed, next to me. And...and we're not trying to - we're not fighting anymore. We're all friends. I - " Adora's voice cracked a little, "for the longest time, I wouldn't even let myself hope for a future like that."

Catra hadn't ever let herself consider it - decimating any thought that strayed close. Not until she'd already found herself in that future. Until it had saved her. Until it had saved Adora.

"And so...sometimes I think..." Adora stopped.

Catra waited, her claws burying into the steel beneath them, grass soft against her palms.

"What if it's not real?" Adora whispered, like it was a confession.

Catra frowned in surprise.

"What if everything starts slipping, disappearing - collapsing...?"

Understanding spread in her veins like poison. She wanted nothing more than to rip herself free now - but her muscles wouldn't listen, her limbs lead. She was a pathetic, paralysed sack of shame and guilt in Adora's arms. Adora's grip only tightened further. Her voice trembled.

"What if everybody disappears, one by one, and nobody even remembers them but me? Glimmer, and Bow, and...and you. And I can't fix it. I can't fix any of it even though I should have, it was my job, and - "

Catra was crying. She was sobbing, actually. Adora jostled them sitting up.

"Catra, Catra, Catra, I'm sorry," she said, which was the stupidest thing she'd ever said.

Catra tried to tell her that but she couldn't, all the air she managed to gulp into her spasming lungs came instantly rushing out in pathetic, ragged yowls. She hadn't cried like this since she was a kid, a baby, before she'd learned that blatant, loud weakness yielded punishment. It was absurd, it was humiliating. She couldn't stop.

Adora was trying to peel her face out of her shoulder but she wouldn't let her. There was just - no way -

So instead Adora crushed them closer together, a hand on the back of her head, a litany of sorry's landing in her hair - a clear note of panic in her voice and Catra wanted her to stop - stop saying that. It was like there was a giant ball of pain in her chest that just wouldn't quit throbbing.

It kept her crying for ages. Crying until she was simply too exhausted to, weak hiccups stuttering in her chest - until her throat was raw and snot and tears had soiled near half of Adora's jacket. She hadn't even noticed the de-transformation, hadn't  noticed how they'd crumpled back to the floor. She realised with a shock that Adora was crying too, more calmly, deep trembling sobs, petering off into frayed breaths. That almost started her up again, but she was too tired.

They simply lay together for a while, a long while, breathing growing more and more in sync.

"What the fuck was that?" she croaked, eventually.

Adora's chest jolted with a single soundless laugh.

The corners of Catra's mouth quirked up in automatic response.

She switched to Adora's dry shoulder, burying her disgusting face into the last patch of clean jacket. Another inadvertent purr started and stopped and started in her chest. The ball of pain had become a deeply rooted ache.

Adora sighed very very deeply.

"But it's real," she whispered. Then she hugged Catra really tightly.

"Duh," Catra mumbled, "dummy."

She was falling asleep. She wiggled until Adora let go and rolled off and onto her side, pulling at Adora until she rolled with her, turning her back into her chest and grabbing her arm, wrapping it around herself and clutching it tight. The grass made the steel feel about as comfortable as a Horde bunk. Melog appeared and circled them, shrinking and lying down so Adora could use it as a pillow. Adora moved around a bit before satisfied with how they slotted together. She pressed a long kiss above Catra's ear. It was Catra's turn to sigh very very deeply.

"I love you," Adora said.

That never ever failed to summon a sense of wonder - a thrill of near-disbelief and obvious incontestability that filled Catra up to the brim with a warmth that burned.

"I love you too," she said.

She closed her eyes.

And fell instantly into a deep sleep.

[abysmalll]

Hi. I know it’s been a while. I try to stay active on here when I can, and I reblog photos I like or poetry that resonates with me, anything really, every now and then. I can’t believe I’ve had this blog since I was 14 years old. I’m turning 25 next month. It feels like I’ve lived an entire lifetime on the internet.

I’m writing this because I need to write about it. I need to accept this experience that I am having for what it is and putting words to it helps me. It helps me cope. And I don’t care if anybody reads it. Tumblr is a dead art anyway. This is me writing to the abyss of the internet, a love letter if you will, to myself, about a traumatic experience.

It has been a week since I accidentally drugged myself with 500 mg of delta 8 cannabinoid (in the form of a gummy). I bought this “sampler pack” of what I thought to be CBD gummies a couple of weekends ago while a friend was visiting from Florida. The shop did not seem sketchy, it was a legitimate dispensary, and the men behind the counter were wearing lab coats and seemed pretty knowledgeable about THC and CBD products. Originally, I bought the sampler pack thinking it was CBD isolate only. I didn’t even think the dosage was that high, maybe 25 mg tops. You know, CBD. The thing you can buy in lotions and bath bombs at those kiosks in the mall. The safe weed alternative: suitable for relaxing muscles, calming mind and body, and relieving anxiety. The sampler pack that I bought did not have many descriptions on it: just the brand and that it was a CBD + delta 8 gummy. I did not realize that delta 8 was another form of THC. I did not know that it was a synthetically / lab altered version of a part of the weed plant or anything that would cause me to get extremely high. When I saw the packaging, I just thought, cool CBD gummies. This will help me have a relaxing night, maybe a good night’s sleep. I never bought them with the intention to get fucked up. I never would have bought them if I knew what delta 8 actually was. To be fair, it was completely misrepresented to me by the men at the store I bought them from. I was under the full impression that this was a relaxing CBD gummy sampler. I did not know that, in reality, what myself and a friend were about to consume was 1000 mg of straight cannabis product (500 mg CBD + 500 mg delta 8). From all of the research I’ve done on delta 8 (now having experienced what I experienced), in reddit forums and the like, experienced users of the weed alternative say that they stay away from anything stronger than 100 mg. 100 mg is enough to fuck you up pretty heavily. To clarify, I took 1000 mg (half CBD / half delta 8). I basically had 25x the “strong” amount for experienced users. Now some people have a hard time getting high, their tolerance is pretty up there, and they need up to 400 mg to really feel it and feel it hard. To clarify again, I still had much more than 400 mg. Now to the experience:

My friend and I had just gotten back to my place after spending the day at a town festival (nothing big due to COVID, just a couple of booths set up of people selling their handmade products, animal shelters and sanctuaries giving out informational pamphlets and volunteer lists, etc.) We got lunch with a third friend after that. I was feeling totally normal. I had a beer at lunch, but pretty sober to say the least. We parted ways with our third friend and headed back to my house. I had originally given the gummies to my friend to hold on to (we would’ve taken them a few weeks prior when I originally bought them but we ended up not that specific night) and she brought them back to me so we could try together. I hesitated at first. I held the gelatinous square in my hand, thumbed it around a bit, a little anxious at the thought of “well I hope this isn’t TOO strong” and thought “what the hell”. And I ate it. She ate the other one. Little did I know how strong it would actually turn out to be. (For context: I am a very light smoker. I have a CBD pen that is 1:1 THC but is very mellow, and I smoke J’s every now and then because I don’t like the feeling of getting too high from bongs or other methods. My friend who ate the other gummy is a daily user. She smokes CBD joints and regular weed daily, eats edibles frequently, and is working on getting her medical card for anxiety).

I felt a slight giggly out-of-it-ness after 30 minutes - right away I was feeling it, feeling something. This was what I was expecting. A very mild happy vibe. This felt okay. This felt normal for what I thought I ate. This was what I had signed up for. I still felt pretty normal besides the slight buzz. Perfect. Just something to help me relax a little bit. Something to take the edge off. Akin to drinking a beer after a long day at work. I spoke in the parking lot with my friend for 45 minutes after ingestion and we both felt and seemed pretty normal. Keep in mind, edibles take time to fully kick in. In my head I completely forgot that I ate that gummy. I thought its full purpose had been fulfilled. I thought I was at the level I was supposed to be at all along. I felt fine. My friend drove home. Thank GOD she got home before it really kicked in. I would’ve felt terrible with that on my conscience if it hit her while driving.

And then I came back inside after she left. I noticed that I felt slightly more out of it, a little bit at a Dutch angle if you will. Nothing to worry about though. Just thought to myself; oh, I’m high. This was more than I was expected. But that’s okay. I told my boyfriend (with my tail between my legs: he’s not a huge fan of weed-anything but he doesn’t care that I imbibe every now and then). I told him “babe, I just thought you should know… That I ate a gummy with ___ and I’m actually feeling high right now”. And that was that. He smirked and said “okay pothead”. Went about our usual business. I smelled myself after standing outside in the heat for 45 minutes in that parking lot and thought, ugh I stink.

And then I took a shower.

I felt okay in the shower. Just normal. The hot water rolling down my body. I wasn’t having a break from reality. Not yet anyway.

And then I got out of the shower.

I wrapped my hair in a towel. I threw on an oversized t-shirt, something comfortable. The cool air after being in a hot shower wrapped around me in a ghostly hug. At this point in time, I don’t know if the drastic change in temperature triggered it. I don’t know. All I know is it had been an hour and a half since ingestion at this point and this act of getting out of the shower was the precipice for what I was about to experience. What I was about to fall into. I FaceTimed my friend to see how she was feeling. It hadn’t hit her at all yet. Okay, slight anxiety. Was I the only one feeling this? Was I feeling something I shouldn’t be? My boyfriend and I had given her a spare TV recently and I wanted to see if she was having any troubleshooting issues with it (she was hooking it up, seeing if the google chromecast still worked, etc). We spoke on FaceTime. I anxiously asked her if she was sure she wasn’t feeling anything.. I didn’t like the prospect of me being the only one feeling out of sorts. She insisted that she was feeling fine.

And then she couldn’t speak in full sentences. I thought it was me. I thought I wasn’t hearing her correctly, or processing her words in the way I should be. Anxiety. And then she said: OH. I feel it. I am high. This is not just CBD.

And then I fell.

Not physically. I didn’t physically fall down. I sat there on FaceTime with her, and I felt myself getting higher and higher, and I already had anxiety from what I thought would be a simple CBD sleepy gummy turning out to be a full on edible experience. I felt myself (my consciousness, whatever part of my personality that makes me - me) fall out of my body. I felt myself and my body disconnect. The only way I can explain it is that feeling you get when you’re falling asleep, and your mind isn’t fully asleep yet but your body is. Where you become aware of the fact that you’re falling asleep and you panic and your consciousness snaps back into your body and you jolt out of bed, alert. That feeling. That is the closest thing to what I was experiencing. Except I wasn’t sleeping. I was fully awake. I was tripping. And not only was I tripping, I was tripping BALLS.

I felt my heart lurch out of my chest. In a shaky voice I said “I have to go” and hung up. I jumped out of bed (I was FaceTiming her while laying in bed). I went to tell my boyfriend what was going on. I told him, “Hey- I’m not feeling normal. This isn’t supposed to be happening. I’m not supposed to be feeling this way right now”. I was going from anxiety mode to panic mode. I felt it happening. Except the whole time, I was high out of my mind. Completely, unexpectedly so. In complete and full honesty, I wasn’t associating this right away to the gummy. Because in my mind, I didn’t buy an edible. I bought what I thought was something else. I thought it was just a simple CBD gummy. Something to help me sleep. This couldn’t be causing me to feel this way, right? No. I have to be having a heart attack or something. Something’s wrong with my body. Something’s wrong with my brain. The two are not connecting. I’m phasing in and out. I feel my heart rate begin to rise along with my panic. I have an Apple Watch, and in a moment of clarity (and stupidity) I thought it best to put it on. I needed to check my heart rate. I fully thought I was having a heart attack and this mental detachment I was experiencing was the result of a serious bodily issue rather than the gummy I ingested two hours prior. I put the watch on. Heart rate is at 135. Okay, not terrible but not great. That’s the heart rate of a person who is jogging. That’s the heart rate of a person who is doing an exercise. I’m laying in bed. Why is my heart rate that high? Oh god. I’m feeling terrible. I’m feeling out of my body. My vision is getting darker and I feel like I’m inside my head watching everything happen on the giant movie screen that is my eyes, but I’m not outside of the screen. I’m experiencing this panic, but not in my body. I wish I could explain it better than this. I wish I could have it make sense to the average person. But the reality of it was that I was not experiencing something that you would normally experience unless you were blackout drunk, tripping balls, having a psychotic break, or drugged. Heart rate is creeping up higher and higher. I’m googling what a normal healthy heart rate is for a person of my size and weight (female, 5’2”, 110 lbs, 24 y/o). I read a sentence that says “if your blood pressure exceeds 180 or higher seek immediate medical attention”. I confused heart rate and blood pressure in the whirl of cortisol and adrenaline and fear. I check my watch again. 184 BPM.

Total. Fucking. Panic.

I felt my heart beating OUT of my chest. It felt like what I imagine holding a hummingbird feels like. It wasn’t beating, buzzing. My heart was buzzing. I thought, is this what it feels like to die? Am I going to die, right here, right now, in my bed? 24 years old? I just graduated college. I haven’t even started my first salaried job yet. I haven’t been married. I haven’t had kids. I haven’t bought my first house. I haven’t experienced so many things and I am about to die, right here, right now. My entire body was numb. Pins and needles. I thought: “I am having a heart attack. 184 BPM. My vision is going dark. I am fully going to pass out”. I yelled out for my boyfriend, at this point in the other room. He rushes in. I tell him what’s happening. He begins to panic. Not knowing how to calm me down. He tries to get me to do breathing techniques with him. It’s past the point for that. I told him, I need to go to the hospital. I need to be near a defibrillator in case that’s really what this is, a heart attack. Because I have a better chance of survival if I’m near a machine. If my heart gives out. I’m trying to communicate this as best I can, while being sky high. I can barely speak. He says, “okay we’re gonna go see ___ (our roommate, and a good friend of mine).” And he guides me downstairs. I stand up on my feet. I feel like I’m a thousand feet in the air and yet so incredibly small. We make our way downstairs to our roommates’ room. He knocks, she lets us in. I stumble in like a drowned rat, hair still wet from the shower. I must’ve looked fucking insane. She takes one look at me but I don’t see her face. I don’t process a face on her head. I just see a blur. I’m still panicking. Heart still beating like a hummingbird. I hear them talking in rushed tones but I don’t hear words. It sounds like the Peanut Gallery parents, if you’ve ever watched Charlie Brown movies. Womp womp womp womp womp.

Next thing I know, she hops out of bed and is wrapping me up in a blanket. She runs to her bathroom and grabs a pot of what smells like, lavender lotion? She’s rubbing it on my cheeks and face. I’m sobbing and all I smell is salt from my tears and lavender. She’s talking to me, but I don’t fully hear her. Like when you watch those movies of a person coming-to in the hospital and the faces of the people surrounding them in their hospital bed blur in and out, the voices fade in and out. I hear her ask me what’s going on. I tell her basically everything I wrote here, just now, but I don’t hear myself say it. The synapses in my brain aren’t firing properly. I know I’m doing things, speaking, but I can’t hear what I’m saying. I know I’m sitting here, wrapped in this blanket, but I don’t know where my body ends and the furniture begins. Cause for more anxiety. It feels like a never ending loop of fear and panic and sensory deprivation, or at least sensory overload? Who knows. My sensory experience is not of this Earth. Sitting in this space, in this room, hearing her talk to me, not really knowing what she is saying but knowing there is care behind it, gives me one small pin point of reality to hold onto. One tiny thing to save me from this seemingly endless nightmare. She takes the watch off of me. I hear her tell me I don’t need to be looking at that right now. No wonder my heart rate is through the roof. I’m giving myself a panic attack.

A panic attack. Is that what this is? Am I not having a heart attack? It sure feels like one. I guess they’re pretty similar. I was convinced, CONVINCED, I was dying. But here I was, some while later, wrapped in this burrito blanket in this room, and I was still experiencing things. Even if the experiences were warped and horrifying. It wasn’t death. But what was it then?

And then I remembered that I ate a gummy two hours earlier. I was having a drug induced panic attack. I was never expecting this. I was NEVER expecting this… What the fuck WAS this? It wasn’t normal. It was exactly what I discovered it to be later on, after researching the label of that sampler pack. It was 1000 mg of CBD and delta 8, a FDA-loophole for weed. And I was buckled in for the full fucking ride.

If you’re wondering what was going on with my friend, she was still high. She was experiencing a strong high from that gummy, but we had nowhere near similar experiences. I was on Mars. She, I think, fell asleep a little later on and woke up the next day ready to smoke again. I am amazed at how vastly different our experiences were. I would give anything to have had that kind of experience. I would’ve loved to wake up the next day, head slightly fuzzy, but feeling normal all the same, and been able to conceive of smoking weed. And if we’re being completely honest, I’m so incredibly grateful that she didn’t experience this. I would not wish this on ANY person. It was my fault that I ate that gummy, and I gave her one too. We could’ve both been fucked. At least it’s only me. My burden to carry.

But being alone in it is scary. And guess what. I woke up the next day, not feeling like myself. Not feeling normal. Not feeling present.

And I’ve woken up every day since in a completely altered state of being. I’m obviously here, I’m breathing, I’m trying to do regular tasks that I do every day. But everything feels so much harder. Everything feels fuzzy. My body feels numb. Some days are worse than others, but for the most part, nothing ever feels normal. I’m realizing that what I’m experiencing is DPDR from a drug induced panic attack. And I’ve cried every single day since that fucking day. It’s been a full week and I’m still having a break from reality. I still feel fuzzy, and like my head and my body aren’t connected, and I’m feeling depressed. I have racing thoughts. I can’t think myself out of this. I know it might seem like I’m fully lucid if I’m able to write all of this, but I’m writing this from a dreamlike state of semi-reality. I still don’t feel real, and people and places don’t feel real. Temperature changes send me into a panic. I zone out and realize that I’m not in my head and even when I “come to” I’m still not FULLY zoned in. My ears and head feel clogged, or like they’re full of cotton balls. I want so badly to escape this feeling but no matter what I do, everything feels surreal. I have no sense of time. I cannot process words. Even writing this, I guarantee you that I forgot 80% of it already. I have to reread things several times to make sure they make sense. If I’m watching a television show, I feel like I’m seeing characters talking to each other but not absorbing anything being said. How am I supposed to live like this? I’m so fucking scared. I can’t eat without feeling weird. I can’t sleep without feeling weird. I can’t do anything. I’m supposed to start my new job on Monday, and I have to be fully aware to do my training, and I’m so afraid of failing because I can barely do the bare minimum right now. I’ve considered going to the hospital but what good would that do? They would think I’m having a psychotic break and admit me to a mental hospital, where I’d be surrounded by unfamiliar people and settings, and be unable to leave. And I’d ruin my life. I’d ruin my job opportunity that I spent 6 months post-grad trying to get hired for, and I finally did. I’d ruin my ability to make an income. I’m terrified of ruining my relationships with people right now because I need so much more support from everybody than I ever do. I am so fucking terrified of my life right now because I do not feel real. I convinced myself the other night that I actually died on Saturday and I am not really experiencing any of this. I have anxiety attacks every day now. Little things set me off. I had an anxiety attack at my mom’s today and she is worried about me. Everyone is worried and nobody knows what to do, including me. I cannot live like this. It’s affecting my day to day life in such a strong sense that I can’t do minimal things. Everything frightens me. I just want to feel normal again. So badly. I would do ANYTHING to feel okay again. I just want to be me. Not this shell of a person. I feel like I fucked up my brain.

This isn’t a cry for help. I know realistically there’s nothing that anyone can do. That helplessness has set in. This is just me yelling at the void and hoping it helps me feel something better than this. I want to be real again.

[rekutopia]

In which Shirayuki came home to a surprise (part 2)

A part of the Flatmate AU (one, two, three, four, five, in accidental order)

“So tell me, girl, what happened?”

Yuzuri gazed closely at her friend. Shirayuki still appeared rather distressed but at least she seemed warm sitting on her bed of thousand pillows while tucked comfortably under her fluffy blanket. She had on Yuzuri’s pink pyjamas and woollen socks in rainbow colours. In her hand, she was holding a steaming mug of hot chocolate. She had also taken a hot shower and Yuzuri had fed her with sweet pumpkin soup – from the can, but hey, she showed up at very short notice.

Her friend lifted her chin slightly up and looked her in the eyes. Yuzuri could almost see the gears turning inside her head, weighing whether and how to explain whatever it was that turned her from a very happy muffin to a sad, miserable one in a course of only a couple of hours. She inhaled deeply and opened her mouth.

“Obi was having sex with Aki when I got home so I panicked and decided I couldn’t stay and went to your place instead,” she said in one long breath.

Yuzuri blinked. “Um. Okay.”

Shirayuki sighed and placed the mug on the bedside table. Then she shifted and hugged both her knees, resting her head on them. “It’s fine, Yuzu, you can say it.”

“Say what?”

“‘I told you so’”.

There might have been a small pool of tears slowly forming on her friend’s lower lashes. Before Yuzuri could get a better look Shirayuki nuzzled her face on her own knees, wiping them away. “I’m so stupid, Yuzu. I know I can’t fall for him. And look at me now.”

Yuzuri scooted closer and pulled Shirayuki carefully into a tight hug. “Oh honey, you’re not stupid. No one can forbid you to fall in love with Obi, not even yourself.” She tried to free her friend’s wet face from a couple of loose red strands. “Besides, Obi’s such a lovely person, and you’ve been living together with him since what, 3 years? It’s no wonder you fell for him.”

“Only a stupid girl fell in love with her gay best friend,” snorted Shirayuki into Yuzuri’s shoulder.

“Well, yea, that is, like, one of the saddest things that could happen to a girl,” Yuzuri said and earned a pinch on her thigh.

“Thank you very much.” Shirayuki half glared at her and half wiping her tears.

“But girl, when we talked about this before I thought you said you were, what was it? Toughing up yourself and building a mental barrier against his charm? Whatever happened to that?”

Shirayuki looked at her friend sheepishly. “Mmh, it...didn’t really work, I suppose. The charm is too strong...”

Yuzuri raised an eyebrow and gave the other girl a suspicious look. “Yea, we both know how strong his charm is. Especially with all the special treatments you’ve been getting lately, what with the case and all.”

Though Yuzuri was slightly amused from how her senior pharmacist reacted, she couldn’t help but feel a little sorry for her. It's not like you can stop yourself from falling in love. And it’s hard enough when the other person didn’t reciprocate your feelings, let alone when it was impossible from the beginning – unless they could somehow stay in platonic love. But knowing Shirayuki, she has already passed the platonic stage from the first year.

Yuzuri kissed the top of Shirayuki’s head fondly. “I’m so sorry, Yuki. I wish there’s anything I could say or do to make you feel better.”

Shirayuki shook her head. “I’m already feeling better, thank you, Yuzu. I’ll be alright soon.”

“Shall we go to sleep? You’ll feel much better in the morning.”

Shirayuki nodded and buried herself deeper between the pillows, curling into a ball. Beside her, Yuzuri crawled inside the blanket and turned off the light while wishing her good night.

----

The clock on the dresser showed its glowing cypher. It was already 02:11 but it didn't seem like sleep was coming to visit her anytime soon. Except for the clock the room was pitched black. Shirayuki was not used to sleep in a room without any lights at all. Despite her drawn curtains lights from outside her window could still seep in. Yuzuri’s flat has light-blocking blinds and she always let them fall completely.

The darkness was not the only thing that kept her awake. Her mind was playing the scenes that happened since she entered her flat over and over again.

The happiness when she smelled Obi’s cooking. The arousal when she heard Obi’s erotic moans. The dismay when she heard Aki’s voice. The way everything was like a blur before she arrived at Yuzuri’s place.

It was only after she took a shower and had dinner that she recovered from her daze. She could even pull herself together and texted Obi to let him know she was not coming home tonight. His answer was sweet, unmeddling but not without worry, as usual.

If it weren’t for Yuzuri lying beside her, Shirayuki would have groaned and smacked herself.

Stop thinking about Obi!

But she couldn’t. And if she could be truly honest with herself, she didn’t want to. In her mind, an invisible hand kept opening drawers after drawers of memories of him, from the ones still freshly filled to the ones she tried to lock up and forget.

It started by presenting her all the things they did together – all the things he did for her – from the moment he came into her life. It was all Yuzuri’s fault, now that she thought of it. If it wasn’t for her, she’d never met him. She would probably be living alone in a tiny apartment somewhere outside of Munich and she would have to commute to work but she would be happy instead of broken-hearted–

Shirayuki stopped her thought at that point. Considering her disastrous history with men, there was no guarantee that some other guy wouldn't break her heart then, if not worse. Besides, she was happy. Living with Obi was the best thing that could ever happen to her. He brought her out of her shell. He showed her things and took her to places she didn’t even realise existed – like that one LGBT bar in their neighbourhood. Yes, a very sexy girl with very little on had almost kissed her and she was trying not to freak out the whole time but they had a good laugh after that and it was another exciting experience Shirayuki could file in her book. A book she would probably not even possess if not for Obi.

She sighed inwardly. Some mental barrier I’ve been building. Might as well crumble it down.

And so Shirayuki gave up trying not to think about her flatmate. She allowed herself to feel the tightness on her chest with every bit of memory she pulled out of her mental drawers. She surrender herself willingly in the warmth and pain that came with them.

The way his smirk turned into a kind smile when he noticed her embarrassment after his teasing, and how he always stopped before they turn into something mean.

The way his tired eyes lighted up whenever he came home from a late shift and found she was still reading in the living room.

The way their legs were tangled together whenever they watched a movie on the couch, a popcorn bowl between their thighs.

The way his front touched her back lightly each time he reached for the cupboard above her while cooking, enveloping her with his scent even for just a few seconds.

The way he placed his chin on her shoulder when he demanded her to shift her attention from the screen to him–

–All those sweet little things did not belong to her. Not anymore. Maybe they had never been. 

And that was when Shirayuki forced herself to break her line of thought before her mind could show her even more of things that made her long for her best friend. Stupid, mundane things, such as the way drops of water fell from the tips of his dark hair to his tanned bare shoulders after a shower.

Shirayuki did not wish for Obi to be her boyfriend. She knew it was useless to wish for something impossible. But during the time they lived together, Obi had never been in any romantic relationships – at least none she was aware of. It gave her the illusion that he would never be in one. That he would always be her Obi, whatever that even meant.

She bit her lip and choked back the tears that were threatening to fall again. She should not make Yuzuri more worried. It’s not like there’s anything she could do about this. She just had to face the fact – she was in love with Obi. And Obi was with Aki. Hers was a love that was destined to wither before it had even the chance to bloom. She knew it from the start so there was no point in crying now.

Tonight. Only tonight she would allow herself to wallow in sorrow. Tomorrow she would lock her feelings away in the deepest corner of her heart. She would do her best to forget about her love for her flatmate. That Zen Wisteria had invited her for dinner to celebrate GG Pharmacy’s victory. Might as well be their first date. She couldn’t deny she was also curious about the guy and it would be a perfect reason to keep her mind off Obi.

Tomorrow. Tomorrow would be a new day.

*****

Aki wiped the small towel carefully over Obi’s back, taking extra care where beads of sweat had slightly pooled between his shoulder blades and on his venus dimples. The leaner guy was lying face down on the futon, spent. Though his breath was no longer laboured, he was still inhaling and exhaling deeply, trying to relax his muscles. 

“Feel better?”

Obi shifted gradually to a sitting position, moving his shoulders back and forth in circular motions, then twisting his upper body left and right to check his lower back. “Yea, the pain’s all gone.” He took a last deep breath, cracked his neck once, twice, and grinned at his friend. “You’re the best, Aki-chan, thanks.”

“No, thank you,” Aki grinned back mischievously, slapping the towel on Obi’s hip. “At least now I have an idea of how you’d sound in bed since you never gave me the opportunity to find out.”

Obi snorted and threw a cocky smirk at the other man. “I’ll let you know I’d sound much better then.”

“I’ll believe it when I hear it, love.”

Obi’s smirk dropped to a frown. “You should really stop calling me that.”

Aki sighed and held both hands up. “My bad. Hard habit to break,” he scratches the back of his head sheepishly. “It’s just so easy to call you that, but I get it. Friends don’t call each other ‘love’,” he said in a mocking voice, making air quotes. Then he reached out to Obi and pinched the other man’s chin yearningly. “It was still the best two months of my life, though sex would’ve made it even more unforgettable.”

Obi huffed and yanked his head free. He was used to Aki’s teasing. He’s had a fair share of his own. When Obi met him at the beginning of the year he thought the guy could be someone compatible for him and admittedly, the time when they were together was fun, albeit short.

“Have you at least made a progress with the little redhead?” Aki’s voice startled him from his musings.

“What?” he squawked, not expecting the turn in the conversation. While Obi had taken his time to think about whether his relationship with Aki didn't fail because of his, apparently, inextinguishable pining for his flatmate, it had absolutely nothing to do with Shirayuki’s own feelings towards him. Which, in a romantic way, was simply non-existing.

“I told you she doesn’t like me that way,” Obi said, pulling his black, long-sleeved shirt back on while deliberately avoiding Aki’s gaze. “I’m just fulfilling my role as a supportive friend. She’s been having a hard time at work.” Then he looked up as he heard the other man’s scoff.

“Oh come on, have you never noticed the way she looks at you?” Aki groaned and his eyes rolled to the sky when he saw Obi’s blank expression. “And here I was hoping that my sacrifice would bring you golden-eyed, red-haired babies soon,” he mumbled disbelievingly.

Obi gave his friend a crooked smile. “Well, I’m sorry to disappoint you.” But my feelings are my own responsibility. He opted to change the subject instead. “Could I offer you dinner, as a thank-you for your service?”

Aki curled up his lips in anticipation. “Depends on the menu.”

“Obi’s special black pepper tofu”.

“...Tofu?” Aki wrinkled his nose. Then he grinned and leaned closer to the other man. “I’d rather have you instead.”

Obi yelped and jerked away as Aki went for his ear with his teeth.

----

Only after Aki had left did Obi concern himself with the fact that Shirayuki was not yet home. This was highly unusual. Did she have an emergency order? Did she say she would come home late and he just forgot? Obi checked his phone but only saw his mother’s orange tabby glaring back at him from the lock-screen. Nope, no new messages.

When his shift changed unexpectedly today, Obi decided to use his free time to surprise Shirayuki. The general temperature had dropped today and he thought Shirayuki might like to come home to a hot meal. He chose the only spicy dish in his repertoire that her tongue could take and even substituted the beef with tofu, for obvious reasons.

Making a mental note to call his flatmate, Obi went to the kitchen and started heating up his dinner. It was already past eight and his stomach was growling. He was about to dish the plate when his phone buzzed.

[Little Miss, 20:16] Hi Obi, I'm sorry I didn't text you sooner. Something came up at work. It’s going to take a while until we’re finished, so I’m gonna stay at Yuzuri’s place tonight. See you tomorrow.

Obi frowned. It must have something to do with that case again. And there he thought the matter was slowly coming to an end and that the pharmacy ladies could finally take a breather. Oh, well. He eyed the food in the wok ruefully.

[Me, 20:17] it’s ok sweetie *smile emoji*

[Me, 20:17] say hi to yuzuri *wave emoji*

[Me, 20:17] tell her to make you dinner *pasta emoji*

[Me, 20:17] too bad you miss my black pepp–

Obi paused for a moment, then hit the backspace and deleted the last one. No need to make the little miss feel guilty about his surprise.

[Me, 20:17] take care

[Me, 20:18] don’t work too hard *winking kiss emoji*

[mayquita]

The Art of (Fake)Dating - (2/5)

@shardminds​ , as promised, here’s the second part of your gift. Thank you all for your comments, notes, likes, kudos and reviews. Also, as usual in me, what at first was going to be a short scene has become a section of over a thousand words, so I had to add one more part. Since my inspiration continues, I plan to post the third part in a couple of days :)

Apologies in advance because there will probably be around a million mistakes. I hope you like it despite that :)

Thanks to @cssecretsanta2k19​ for organizing the event and making sure everything worked correctly.

Summary: When Emma agrees to be Killian’s fake girlfriend she expects it to be a one-time thing. However, and despite getting an enemy in the form of an overprotective brother, she ends up becoming an expert in the art of fake dating even though she can’t stand her fake boyfriend, at least at the beginning.

Ao3 / FFNet / Part 1

//

The Art of (Fake) Dating - Part 2

To Emma's surprise, dinner wasn't a total disaster. She was received quite warmly by the whole family and everyone behaved in a civilized manner. Killian had been right, Elsa, his sister-in-law, seemed like a kind person, and his four-year-old twin nephews were indeed adorable.

Before entering the house and being introduced, Emma had already put on her imaginary protective shell, and felt ready to face any sharp comment or lecture that Killian's brother might have prepared for her. She had dealt with worse, no doubt. However, as the evening progressed Emma was able to relax a little, due in part to the fact that all the family members were making great efforts to have lively conversations. Anna, Elsa's sister, seemed a natural in that regard, as she barely kept her mouth shut except to chew her food. The kids were also a constant source of distractions and entertainment.

The tension in the atmosphere was so thick that you could cut it with a knife, though. Even so, Emma was immediately attracted to the strange dynamics of Killian's family so she couldn't help but carefully observe everyone's behavior around the table.

She watched as any attempt by Elsa to approach Killian was met with a guarded attitude from her fake boyfriend, which surprised Emma since Elsa seemed to try hard to engage him in all kinds of conversations and seemed especially interested in knowing everything about their life back in Storybrooke.

Killian kept that kind of reserved stance almost continuously, with his shoulders tensed up, a fake half-smile adorning his lips and his eyebrows slightly furrowed. It was as if he also wore a protective shield, as if he were reluctant to reveal anything about him or his lifestyle. 

Killian's features only softened with his nephews or when he addressed Emma, which happened quite often, as part of his role as a fake boyfriend, she supposed. 

As for their performance, they seemed quite convincing. Emma was good at studying people through their body language, due to her former profession as a bail bond person and, luckily for her, this family was quite easy to read. No one showed signs of suspecting anything about their farce. Even so, they did carry out some timid public displays of affection that basically consisted of Killian placing his arm around her shoulders in a protective attitude, although she wasn't sure about who he intended to protect, her from any possible attack by his brother or himself.

In fact, Emma noticed how his displays of affection increased each time Killian interacted with his brother. He might have done it unconsciously, but it was on these occasions when he placed his arm on the back of her seat, casually brushing her hair or giving a slight squeeze to her shoulder while his fake smile transformed into a thin line.

Liam also wore a grim expression most of the time. Unlike his wife, he made no effort to get close to Killian and even less to address Emma. He just threw a handful of scathing comments here and there and he occasionally gave her sidelong glances charged with disapproval.

At the moment when Killian offered to prepare coffees after dinner, Emma saw her opportunity to inquire a little more about this strange family dynamic, so she also volunteered to help him. Emma wasn't sure how he would take her offer when it seemed clear that he had used the coffee excuse to escape for a while from the tension around him. Luckily, the smile of gratitude he offered her dispelled all her doubts.

Emma still wasn't sure if she liked this new, more vulnerable version of Killian. In a way, that made him more human, and, although it might seem contradictory, more accessible, so she felt confident enough to approach the subject at the time they found themselves in the kitchen shelter.

"Whoa! So much tension over there." She mumbled, earning a quiet chuckle from him, his features relaxing immediately.

"I already warned you, Swan, didn't I?" The way he raised an eyebrow suggestively did things to her but she opted to ignore it. It was as if there had been a kind of magical effect, since, by the time they had disappeared from the living room, Killian had transformed into the cocky guy she knew, leaving behind the stormy expression he had worn throughout the entire evening.

"So, you were right about Elsa and the kids. But I don't get it, you seem quite tense when you talk to her."

Killian did not answer immediately, merely carrying out his coffee-making task. Nor did the tension seem to have completely abandoned him, a twitching muscle in his jaw betrayed him. Still, when he looked back at her, the ghost of a smile appeared on his face.

"It's just that my beloved sister-in-law continues to insist on knowing all the details about my life back in Storybrooke, information that could be used against me for the asshole I have for a brother."

"But she seems genuinely interested." Emma insisted, not understanding the logic of his statement.

"I know love, but I'd rather not take a chance."

They continued to work in silence, although Emma seemed unable to take her eyes off him for more than two seconds. He was especially hot today, that kind of sulky expression suiting him quite well. Besides, he was too close, causing her to feel not only the warmth emanating from him, but the hint of his scent. The moment he placed his hand in the small of her back to reach something in the upper compartment of the cupboard she felt a kind of electric shock running through her body. Get a grip, Emma!

"By the way, you did so well, Swan. I knew it was a good idea to bring you here since at least Liam has had the decency to behave correctly most of the time."

Great, now he was complimenting her and offering her one of his trademark disarming smiles. And he was too close. And had his eyes always been so blue?

This new direction in their relationship was causing a spiral of emotions swirling inside her, to the point that she wasn't sure how to act, so she decided to let her instinct take control. She flirted back.

"Uhm, we'll see. The night is not over yet and I've already caught some glances of disapproval from your brother towards me. But don't worry, I can handle it." She lowered her voice and winked at him before grabbing one of the trays and heading back towards the living room.

While walking, she couldn't prevent a smile of self-confidence from appearing on her face, while a sense of pride settled in her stomach.

Her progress was short, though. She hadn't even reached the door when she noticed Killian's presence right behind her, causing her to slow down when she felt his warm breath caressing her ear while whispering, "I didn't doubt for a moment that you could handle it, love. I chose you for a reason, after all."

This time it was Killian who winked at her before walking past her. The last thing Emma saw before he disappeared through the door was a smirk she wanted to erase with her own lips. 

Dammit!

//

They were going to share a bedroom, of course. Emma looked closely at the assigned accommodation, taking advantage that Killian was busy with his baggage. At least the bed was a considerable size, so the chances of accidental touches under the sheets were limited. She was no longer sure that was a positive aspect, though.

After letting out a quiet sigh, she grabbed her bag of toiletries and pajamas and headed for the bathroom, located outside the room, next door. She needed a moment of privacy to try to pull herself together, reminding herself as she watched her reflection in the mirror that she really couldn't stand Killian, that she had her reasons for her dislike towards him and that it wasn't a big deal to literally sleep with him. Still, if she took more time than necessary in her beauty routines before going to sleep, only she would know.

When Emma returned to the bedroom, she found that Killian had already chosen his side of the bed. He had settled on the left side with his back against the headboard and seemed focused on the screen of his phone, so much that he acknowledged her arrival with barely a brief glance at her. He was wearing flannel pajama pants and a tank top that exposed the toned muscles of his arms. No big deal at all.

Emma also realized that he had removed his prosthesis. It wasn't the first time she had seen him without it, although on those previous occasions he was in a much more vulnerable position. Still, she took it as a good sign. At least he was comfortable enough around her not to feel the need to use it, right?

Emma's gaze shifted for a moment to the armchair located in a corner. The mere sight of that piece of furniture caused a wave of annoyance to wash over her. Killian had directly assumed that they would share a bed, he hadn't even bothered to show certain chivalry by offering to sleep somewhere else. Even worse, he might have assumed that she would be the one to sleep in the armchair.

What's wrong with me? Emma walked across the bedroom to her travel bag to put her clothes inside while she mentally recriminated herself for the mixed feelings dancing inside her. A few minutes before the two of them were flirting openly not only in front of his family but also privately and now she felt that her negative thoughts were emerging taking control. 

Deep down, Emma was aware that she was actually afraid of rejection. She couldn't deny that she wanted him, badly. But it seemed that the feeling wasn't reciprocal. Killian had barely noticed her when she had entered the room, for God's sake! She had no choice but to resign herself and continue playing along with the farce.

Her escalation of thoughts was interrupted with a sound coming from the bed. When she turned her head she found that Killian had walked to the foot of the bed and was pushing it so that the headboard hit the wall.

"What the hell..."

Her words were cut off by Kilian who looked at her as he put his index finger on his lips. "Shush! We don't want to spoil the performance, do we?" His words came in a whisper as he continued his task.

"What the hell are you doing?" She whispered back as she approached him, watching his movements through her narrowed eyes.

"Isn't it obvious, Swan?" He muttered as he waved his eyebrows at her in a somewhat lascivious way. As if to prove his point he vigorously pushed the bed again, hitting the wall.

Something was definitely not working well in her brain, because she needed several seconds to process what was really happening. When she finally realized it, her eyes widened with surprise and then she pursed her lips before addressed him again.

"The bedroom on the other side is your brother's, isn't it?" He didn't even bother to answer, he simply pushed the bed against the wall one more time. "What are you, seven?"

"I'm simply giving him an actual reason to make him pissed off."

She couldn't believe what was happening, so she just stood there observing in disbelief with her arms crossed over her chest, unable to decide if his act was a brilliant plan or the most ridiculous idea. One thing was clear, he didn't even seem to have contemplated the possibility of not faking the act or even asking her to contribute by adding some other (human) sounds to make the performance more credible. Somehow the idea that he hadn't counted on her bothered her more than it should.

After one last push, he seemed satisfied, a smile of triumph appeared on his face as he returned to the bed. Only then did he seem to notice her presence, as he patted the empty side of the bed while gesturing with his head inviting her to accompany him. "Come on, love. We've got tired enough, it's time to rest."

Emma rolled her eyes before showing her middle finger up in a childish gesture, but after all, she just witnessed the performance of a naughty boy instead of the one of a grown-ass man, so she was just getting at his level.

The laugh that he released managed to annoy her even more, so, continuing with her childish pattern, she threw a cushion to his face, which he caught before reaching its target, while his laugh became even louder.

"You're an idiot, you know it, don't you?" She mumbled before getting into bed and lying on one side, turning her back on him. Two seconds later she rolled again, facing him. "Just for your interest, in case Liam makes any reference to our performance," she placed air quotes around the last two words and paused deliberately before continuing, "I intend to tell him that it was really you who felt the need to take manual care of your own businesses. Good night."

The last thing she saw before rolling back to her previous position and switching off the light on her bedside table was how his grin disappeared from his face.

"It's not funny, Swan." He grumbled, but she didn't even bother to reply. Luckily, he couldn't see her face, because otherwise, he would have met a huge smirk and an expression of triumph. 

Silence finally fell into the bedroom and that's when Emma allowed herself to relax a little. That sensation barely lasted, though, since she was immediately hyperaware of Killian's presence beside her, even though he had made sure to maintain a considerable space between them. 

A soft tingling spread across her skin at the possibility of any accidental touch, but she remained still, noting how he kept moving on the other side of the bed, as if he didn't find a comfortable position.

Her heart began beating frantically in her chest as her stomach fluttered in anticipation. Finally, after what seemed like hours, Killian seemed to settle under the covers, ceasing any movement. Just when a feeling of disappointment gripped her, she heard his voice coming in a barely audible whisper and causing a chill to run down her spine. "Thank you for helping me, Swan. Sleep well."

All her previous anger vanished after hearing his words, being replaced by a deeper and also more dangerous feeling. In an attempt to keep her emotions at bay, she closed her eyes stubbornly, praying that the sleep would come soon, because otherwise, she didn't know if she would be able to control her desire to turn around and search for his lips.

It wasn't going to be so easy to fall asleep, Emma was aware of that, but she tried to leave her mind blank as she wrapped herself up to her ears and squeezed her eyes shut. It was then that she realized something, causing her eyes to widen again. She had completely forgotten to take off her contacts, and even worse, she had left both the glasses and the cleansing solution in the damn bathroom.

Letting out a huff of annoyance, she removed the sheets and sat up while muttering, "I need to use the bathroom."

"Again?"

"Yes, Jones, again. Don't bother waiting for me awake, I guess you're exhausted after your previous performance." She snapped at him before leaving the room without looking back.

Once again, Emma took advantage of the privacy of the bathroom to calm her inner turmoil. She didn't even know why she had been so upset with Killian after his smart childishness. In other circumstances, she would have even offered to cooperate, especially if that meant bothering Liam. She might not know the guy enough but she had already decided that she hated him even more than she hated Killian even though she barely had any detail about their common backstory.

Emma took her time to take off her contacts and then brushed her hair again and made sure there were no traces of makeup left on her face. After taking a deep breath and let it out slowly, she finally felt determined enough to return to their bedroom.

Luck wasn't on her side tonight, though. As soon as she opened the bathroom door she came face to face with Liam, who looked like he had been waiting for her. Her surprise was such that she let out a little yelp as she put her hand to her chest in an attempt to calm her agitated heart.

"My apologies, lass." Both his tone and his expression indicated that he didn't feel sorry at all. "I couldn't sleep due to an inexplicable noise in my bedroom, so I decided to go down to the kitchen and prepare something to drink. Then I saw the light coming from the bathroom and... here we are." 

Fuck! Emma hoped the gloom in the hallway was enough to hide the blush that had surely appeared on her cheeks. "I... I forgot to take off my contacts." She replied while pointing at her glasses. Luckily, she managed to maintain a neutral enough tone. "But it's late, so it will be better if I..."

"In fact, I thought that since you and I have barely had the opportunity to talk before, now that we're alone it would be a good time to have a little conversation. Would you like some tea?"

No.

Go back to the bedroom.

"I prefer hot chocolate." The words came out of her mouth without her having a chance to stop them. Seriously, what was wrong with her today?

"Hot chocolate will be." Emma didn't like at all the grin that appeared on Liam's face, to the point that she was tempted to change her mind and run away to hide behind the door of her bedroom. She was an adult woman, though, so it was better for her to behave in a mature way so that at least she wouldn't contribute to making Liam's impression of her even worse. For that reason, when he stepped aside reaching up his arm to point the way, she had no choice but to accept. "After you, lass."

So she was going to receive a lecture. As Emma walked down the stairs to the kitchen she felt like the girl that had been sent to the principal's office after committing mischief. Her stomach tightened into knots but she felt a renewed energy spreading through her body. She might be about to get a scolding, but she wasn't going to make it easy for him. Like Killian, if she had to resort to somewhat extreme measures to annoy Liam, she wasn't going to hesitate to use them. They were a team for a reason, right? A Fake one, but a team after all.

 //

Thanks for reading :)

Happy New Year!!

[makeroomforthejolyghost]

ok well i originally drafted this while thinking about this post, but it’s relevant to what i wanted to say about (my tags on) this one too so i’ll just post it now, how ‘bout that.

i mean, Getting Used to It (and thus expanding your definition of “i’m fine”) isn’t always as dramatic as your brain completely turning off its pain response to an event, so that you don’t realize you’ve injured yourself until some other clue tips you off. that’s certainly happened to me? (and w/ smaller injuries it happens to healthy people too, as when you cut yourself on paper without noticing, and it doesn’t start to hurt until you see it bleed.) but the more everyday/pedestrian forms of this phenomenon are, like. that the level of pain i rated as an 8 in 2016 now reads to me as, like, 5. and that when you’re depressed (or at least when i am), pain goes up but interest in that pain goes down, because of depression’s tendency to normalize negative stimuli.

i think these are two manifestations of the same thing: your brain removes fear from the equation, and since fear makes pain more intense, most pain experienced in fear’s absence seems like no big deal. and that goes double for painful stimuli you once associated with fear but no longer do? in a sorta feedback-loopy way. or at least it does for me. less fear-->less pain-->even less fear the next time something similar happens.

if i sit in nearly any given position too long, one or more of the joints in my legs will sometimes... well, i think subluxate is technically the right word?* but it’s not like a sudden pop: it’s like, as the muscles around them relax my joints slowly slide out of place. as you can imagine (given the low bar required to achieve it), this happens A Lot; i don’t keep track, but probably once a day on average? i know it’s not every day, but also that some days it happens many times, and that both these latter and the days when it doesn’t happen at all often strike me as a change from the norm. so, yeah, probably a mean of once per day. but until sometime in 2019, it used to freak me out—a lot—every time.

it’s often one of those above-mentioned doesn’t hurt until you notice for other reasons scenarios, too, like the paper cut. so i’d be like innocently sitting there, then look down or attempt to adjust position and suddenly OH GOD MY LEG(S). and every time it happened i’d think, “oh god, is this the time i really and truly get stuck and have to be scooped out of this position on a stretcher. fuck, please, no, that would be so humiliating, there’s no way the paramedics would believe me, strangers must not see me like this,” &c., and the more determined i got to prove to myself that i could move, that i wasn’t stuck, that i could get myself out of this, the more horrifically painful these attempts became—partly because fear of pain leads to greater pain, and partly because when you’re panicky you don’t tend to move with much patience or care.

but, of course, every time i would eventually get out of it. it’s hard to say how long it took, because, again, i never timed it, and also because time does weird shit when you’re freaking out. (plus i have adhd, so my estimates of how long things take aren’t the greatest to begin with.) i want to say though that the longest i ever took unpretzeling myself in this way was an hour and a half—and i usually took way less time than that. (it’s hard also to estimate because these days exceeding ten minutes marks an especially long battle of this kind.) iirc, the ~90-minute incident was like, my right hip already felt not quite right, and someone on the internet recommended W-sitting as a way to reduce a subluxed hip, and i tried it because i either didn’t know at that time or had forgotten that when i W-sit for more than a few seconds i often misplace several toes, up to two joints per knee, maybe an ankle, and/or at least one hip. some of these will reduce themselves automatically as soon as i move; others i can only move passively until after i’ve reduced them. so like, that endeavor was a fucking jigsaw puzzle, and good luck figuring those out when a. every wrong move doubles the pain and panic you’re in, but b. leaving the puzzle unfinished is also agonizing. most of the time it was not that bad.

…what was my point? oh yeah: this sat-wrong-now-my-leg’s-stuck business still happens a lot, and it’s n o t like sitting on a pen, where your brain eventually gives up on signaling your discomfort.** nor like when you’re running on adrenaline and your brain doesn’t bother to tell you you’re hungry. nor like what tumblr user bibliosphere described, where her brain evidently just… prioritized other tasks over the “hey please fix this leg” alarm that pain would have signified. but incidents like this do, literally, hurt less the tenth time they happen than they do the first time, and it’s not because your body Toughens Up or whatever either (that only works w/ exercise-related muscle pain); it’s because your brain learns that this event does not pose imminent danger. a subluxation you know how to reduce will hurt less than one you don’t.

that’s what the “i’m always subluxing” version of the hulk meme means. most chronically ill people describe this whole phenomenon as more like the argument from “shot in the knee theory.” as like, you stop screaming because you learn screaming doesn’t help. and i mean… yeah? but ime it’s more that you stop screaming*** when you learn what does help. the OP in that post asks rhetorically,

Are you going to scream and cry the entire time, or are you going to come to grips with reality and accept the fact that freaking out isn’t going to make the ambulance come any faster?

and jesus christ, OP, are you kidding? in real life? definitely the first one! if you literally got shot in the knee, you wouldn’t just scream because it hurt—you would scream also because holy shit, am i gonna die of blood loss? why did they shoot me? are they going to shoot me again??? and pain you’ve had for years, or an injury you’ve sustained many times before, is nothing like that. if it scares you at all, the content of your fear is more like, oh, crap. what’s this gonna feel like tomorrow. will i have to cancel my plans again?

*n.b. i’ve never had this confirmed by a doctor. i just assume that’s what’s happening because 1. the sensations’ non-pain components are very similar to what the subluxations i have had confirmed feel like; 2. if it’s a joint i can see from my position (e.g., the ankle pressed against the floor when criss-cross-applesauced), it usually looks a little fucked up; and 3. it behaves quite differently from regular stiffness, joints in this scenario feeling not so much too tight to move properly as like i keep aiming for and missing the lever that moves them. (and each failed attempt HURTS like my soft tissues are pumpkin guts and my bones are knives trying to scoop them out.)

**i’ve never actually tried this experiment, though, and i’ve heard it doesn’t work on some autistic people. hopefully this goes without saying lmao but my sensory perceptions are Weird in General, so, any hypotheses i build upon them should be salted liberally

***well, whimpering, anyway. for me at least, if i literally scream at an injury it’s not from the pain, it’s from the surprise. i’m more likely to scream when i stub my toe than when i try to bite and my jaw crunches sideways, because the latter is a possibility i sign up for every time i put food in my mouth, whereas like. ob…viously you wouldn’t have stubbed your toe if you’d already known the object you accidentally kicked was there. (except i guess in movies when people kick objects to express rage, forgetting that this will hurt them. in that case i suppose they scream partly from surprise and partly because negative stimuli encountered in “fight” mode reinforce preexisting anger. wow i digress lmao sorry.) but reactions like whimpering, clenching your teeth, &c. only partly come from surprise; they’re also stims, i think, tho clearly not ones unique to ND people. the woman who pierced my ears when i was a kid told me to focus on tapping first one foot and then the other, so i wouldn’t shrink away. i think it’s kinda like that: it releases nervous energy, gives you a competing stimulus to focus on.

[rabidbehemoth]

Unpublished KakaSaku scene

In response to the ask about a scene from a not-yet-published story, I give you an UST-laden part of chapter 6 of my KakaSaku BDSM fic. (It’s all way more chaste than you’d expect, I swear!) Enjoy!

Just as Sakura was contemplating bringing up the dreaded question, so now what?, they were interrupted by the slamming of a door. It took both of them the same space of one second to realize the sound was Takeda’s door echoing through their receiver, and their target was leaving his room for the day.

“Shit,” Kakashi griped, grabbing his coat. Sakura dropped her waffle, pulled her boots on, henged her hair and followed.

They kept pace a good distance behind them, not speaking, pretending to enjoy a mid-morning stroll as both groups exited the front lobby and trekked across the grounds. They passed the branching path that would lead to the onsen, then the one leading to the ski lift. Just as Sakura was beginning to wonder whether Takeda was leading his men deep into the woods to do something nefarious, the party turned sharply left at a weathered sign onto a side path they hadn’t yet explored.

It led to a clearing surrounding a fully frozen pond. People were scattered about, most wearing ice skates rented from the little stall across the pond. A handful of benches surrounded the area for spectators to rest on, and a vendor was selling hot beverages and snacks nearby from a cart.   

Sakura’s stomach filled with dread art the sight of the daimyo marching around the pond toward the ice skate stall. Difficult as it was to imagine the ungainly man on ice skates, she could imagine herself, a Fire Country nin to her core, on them even less.

“Ever gone ice skating before?” she muttered to Kakashi, pretending to look around to decide what to do first.

“Not in my life.” He made a gesture and she shook her head for show.

“Maybe we could just sit?”

“Too weird to have walked all this way to not even skate a little. Besides, how hard could it be?” he asked, leading the way to the rental stall.

After wasting several minutes figuring out how to put them on and tighten then sufficiently, they just barely managed to waddle awkwardly to the edge of the pond in the heavy skates. Kakashi set one foot tentatively onto the slick surface of the ice, only for his foot to immediately slide out from under him. Suppressing a giggle at his expense, Sakura caught and steadied him, doing her best to appear innocent under his glare. She got a taste of humiliation herself, however, when the exact same thing happened to her.

They clung to each other, struggling to stay upright and unable to move anywhere for the first few minutes. Sakura had to ignore the way Kakashi’s scent overpowered even the smell of snow and hot chocolate in the air. She clenched her leg muscles in a weird way and slowly released his arm. She almost took a spill when he let go of her shoulder too quickly and shifted her balance.

“Shit!” she said, pinwheeling her arms frantically, but scared to move her legs. Kakashi’s throaty laughter almost made her lose focus, but she stood upright in the end. She took a breath. This was way harder than learning to walk on water, and the water was solid!

“How the hell are you supposed to move?” Kakashi asked, leaning forward and shuffling his skates, arms outstretched like an oversized bird. Or an idiot.

They glanced around at a rink full of fast-moving people, probably all from Lightning Country, who obviously had plenty of skating experience. They were politely avoiding Sakura and Kakashi’s little corner, curving the main stream of traffic around them. But the Konoha-nin were well aware they stuck out like sore thumbs--not the best position to be in during an incognito mission.

Feeling pressured, Sakura squinted at the skaters’ feet. “They’re like...angling their toes outward and just pushing? Like—”

Before she spoke further, Kakashi tried it himself. He managed one push before his foot flew out from under him, and he landed hard on his back with a yelp.

The daimyo and his group happened to glide past just then as though they were born on skates, smirking at their ineptitude and not-so-accidentally splattering them with ice in their wake. Suddenly Sakura understood why someone like him wanted to go skating after all. Braggart.

“Seriously, fuck that guy,” she muttered darkly, bending to grab Kakashi’s elbow to help him up.

Alas, her own feet slipped under the extra weight, she overcorrected hard and crash landed on top of him instead.

“Sorry!” she squeaked. Her arms felt hot where he was gripping her, her chest was dangerously close to his face. They struggled for a moment, trying to determine which limbs were entangled. His body was hard and warm beneath her, making her uncomfortably aware of a size difference she’d stopped noticing years ago. When he moved his leg his thigh bumped into someplace it had no business being and she let out a little sound, tried to focus—

She shifted to roll off of him, trying to swing her heavy skate around, and he gasped--a confused sound that made her unsure if she’d kneed him somewhere bad or good, oh gods, please not anywhere good--but he hadn’t released his grip on her arms so she couldn’t get off—

No, not the time to be thinking about getting off, and why wasn’t he moving--?

“Kakashi,” she said, voice low and urgent, turning to meet his eyes. People. There were people here.

He was staring unblinkingly at her, henge-darkened hair pillowed out on the ice to frame his still-unfamiliar face. His expression was far away, lips parted, and for a moment she was transfixed.     

Then he blinked rapidly. “Fuck.”

She nodded at the word without meaning to.

“No, fuck, we’re attracting attention, just—”

“Eeep!” she squeaked, yanking her arms from the grip he still had forgotten to release, and pushing herself up and onto the weight of her own hands.

Breaking the full-body contact helped tremendously, and Sakura carefully swung her skate higher this time, up and over his knee, and sat up. He did the same, and they ignored the quick glances and scattered giggles about ‘those foreigners’ from passersby. With considerable effort, they half-crouched, half-slid toward the snow at the edge of the pond before fully climbing to their feet.

They returned the rental skates in silence, never more grateful to pull their boots back on atop solid ground, and made their way to the nearest bench.

They collapsed onto it as far away from each other as possible but it didn’t help at all. There was a kind of pulsing energy flowing between them that went right through their clothes, through the cold and distance, and Sakura feared her heart was pounding so hard the whole resort could hear it. They took a long moment to catch their breaths before she dared risk a glance at his face.

He wore the look of a man enduring a thousand years of suffering. Normally she would have made fun of him for being dramatic, but she was certain her own was twisted into something equally grotesque. 

“Gonna grab drinks,” she choked out, making her way on wobbling legs over to the vendor. 

The elderly man cracked a smile at her as he poured two cups of cocoa. “Honeymoon?”

She stared at him in abject horror.

“Oh, don’t be embarrassed, it’s hard to keep it subtle when you’re young. We traveled quite a ways away for our own honeymoon too, the wife and I. You from the south?”

She nodded mutely, digging in her pocket for change. 

“No charge, just enjoy your time together. And better luck with the skating next time...though it might be more fun to keep falling, if you’re gonna do it like that.” He laughed at his own innuendo.

She mumbled her thanks and made her way back to the bench with cups in hand.

“What happened?” Kakashi asked upon seeing her red face. He seemed to have regained a considerable amount of composure in her absence.

“I got teased by an old man who thinks we’re horndogs,” she grumbled, sitting.

He accepted his cup and raised his brows in a look that might have asked, aren’t we?, but knew better than to answer aloud. They watched Takeda glide like a swan around the pond for a few minutes with mutual distaste. Sakura was pleased to note that whatever weird energy had been going on between them had at least taken a temporary hiatus.

Then Kakashi looked at her in a particular way, and she had to amend the thought: mostly gone.

“What?” she asked, scooting sideways a little.

“Nothing,” he replied, eyes forward again.

She had almost relaxed when his dark eyes flashed sideways at her once again.

“Oh, come on,” she said, recognizing the mischief in the atmosphere. “What now?”

He was fighting not to let his lips curl into a smile. Sakura watched the muscles of his mouth battle with a little too much interest before tearing her eyes away.

“I didn’t say anything.” 

Maybe not, but his not-quite-smirk spoke volumes. She waited for the bait.

“Wanna play a game?”

It was not what she’d expected at all. She turned to look at him fully, but his eyes were straight ahead once more, presumably watching their target. 

“No,” she answered immediately, which for some reason only made his smile widen. She tapped her foot and released a sigh of frustration, but he said nothing further.

It took another five minutes of staring at Takeda doing elaborate figure-eights to make her crack. “What kind of game?”

“I’ll do something to you, and you can't move, or make noises, or visibly react.”

She stiffened so abruptly she almost spilled her drink. Eyes narrowed, she turned creakily to hiss at him. “Are you kidding? You want to do a--a scene thing in public? In front of the target?” But the words ‘do something to you’ thumped around in her head like shoes in the washing machine, and she felt hot all over again. She told herself it was just the warm drink.

He chuckled like someone pleased with the exact response he’d expected. “It’s not a scene, just a little game. Totally optional.”

“So scenes aren’t games? I thought you said it was all play.”

He raised his eyebrows at her, still smiling to himself. “They are. But this would be a kind of...practice.”

She swallowed. He knew she was the type to study like crazy before any test or performance, game or not.

She frowned, but couldn’t help her next words: “What are the stakes?”

His smile morphed into a grin. 

“Stop looking at me like that--I haven’t agreed to anything!” she protested.

He put his hands up in supplication. “I know, we’ll never do anything you don’t agree to, and if you ever feel pressured you should end our agreement. I’m trusting you to do that.” 

She nodded, mollified, waiting for him to continue.

“Stakes are simple: if you can stay still for five minutes, you'll get a reward later. If you can't, you'll be punished.”

“What are you gonna do during the five minutes?”

“Nothing that will hurt, as agreed. It won’t be pleasant, but it is a form of sensation play. If you really want to know, I'll tell you. But the surprise would be half the fun.”

She scoffed at the way he conflated something obviously unpleasant with ‘fun’. Fun for whom was the question. 

“What’s the punishment?”

“Nothing too tough to start with. No hot water for your next shower.”

She considered that. He was right, that wouldn’t be too tough at all. Was he making it easy to throw her off, or was she overthinking it?

He seemed to overhear her thought, which was highly disconcerting. “One of your stipulations was that I ease you into it, so that’s what I’m doing. There’s no trick.”

She nodded again, a bit sorry to have doubted him. “And the reward?”

“That I won’t spoil even if you ask. But I think you’ll like it.”

Her thoughts immediately jumped to soft sheets, dim lighting, and the friction of skin against skin. She had to physically shake her head to clear the images. What was wrong with her? They had a very clear agreement, and sex was definitely not on the menu. 

So...what in the world could he possibly use as a reward without touching her? More sushi?

She tapped her foot, thinking, sneaking glances at him. “No consequences for refusal?”

He shrugged. “Other than missing out on the reward? No.”

“Just five minutes?”

“Feel free to time it yourself to make sure it’s fair.”

She tried to think of anything he might do publicly to make her squirm, but didn’t have any ideas. He had no special tools on him, they were in the middle of a public skating pond, and frankly, she was at a loss. 

“You’re sure asking for a lot of blind trust,” she grumbled, feeling herself cave.

“That would be part of the reason for this exercise.”

“Fine,” she bit out.

He merely shook his head, taking a sip of his cocoa. “Forget it. Deal’s off.”

“What?” she all but screeched, unable to believe that he might deny her after that kind of build up. “Why!?”

“Enthusiastic consent, remember? I’m happy to explain terms, but I don’t talk anyone into anything, sexual or otherwise.”

She made a little gesture of frustration. “You didn’t—” Well, but he kind of did. She paused. Having the promise of the reward withdrawn genuinely made her want it more. And she wanted to see what he had up his sleeve. She took a breath. “Look, even if this conversation started off as persuasion, I do want to play. I'm a skeptical and careful person, but just because I need to warm up to certain new ideas or situations doesn't mean I'm not genuinely interested. How am I supposed to communicate that so that you believe me?”

He turned fully to look at her, raking his eyes up from her ankles to her eyebrows as though she were sitting beside him completely nude instead of stuffed into multiple layers. His gaze was languid, heavy with expectation. 

“Convince me.”