#Sulphur Baths

[mokshabeauty]

Sulphur Soap Bar

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[astrolovecosmos]

The Planets & Random or Obscure Associations

~Sun~

Creativity, vitality, head of state, the father, games, yellow and orange clothing, articles of value, jewelry, gold, brass, power, diamonds, citrine, topaz, jasper, amber, rhodochrosite, mistletoe, almonds, citrus, succulents, sunflowers, fevers, heart, back, spine, grapes, walnuts, rice, chamomile, frankincense, juniper, saffron, marigold, rosemary, rue, palaces, towers, luxury.

~Moon~

Eternal, cycles, silver, aluminum, pearls, moonstone, opal, selenite, chest, glands, lymphatic system, nervous system, emotions, mother, ancestors, nurture, rebirth, tides, baths, ocean, brew, boat, sap, willow trees, succulents, pale color plants, white flowers, cucumber, cabbage, lettuce, melons, shellfish, pumpkins, lakes, fountains, ports, fishponds, pools, springs, sewers, dairies, toys, reflection, blankets, objects of comfort.

~Mercury~

Communication, journal, pen/pencil, any writing tools, wings, phosphorous, mercury, agate, tiger's eye, brain, nervous system, eyes, respiration, thyroid, speech, hearing, intellect, vehicles, money, bills, paper, books, pictures, parties or social gatherings, scientific instruments, butterflies, messages, mail, hazel, mulberry, myrtle, seeds, aniseed, dill, fennel, lavender, liquorice, marjoram, parsley, valerian, hazelnuts, beans, mushrooms, pomegranates, carrots, celery, libraries, schools, markets, fairs, public spaces, tennis or badminton court, studies, banks, bowling greens, offices, blue, white, or light colored flowers.

~Venus~

Love, relating, lust, high-quality fabrics, copper, bronze, sodium, malachite, tourmaline, emerald, rose quartz, kunzite, sapphire, pastels, throat, kidneys, lumber region, art, music, aesthetics, social life, fashion, jewelry, wine, pleasure, alder tree, fruit trees, paint, ash tree, birch, pomegranates, early flowering, daisy, mint, marshmallow, meadowsweet, mugwort, plantain, tansy, roses, thyme, vervain, yarrow, potatoes, strawberries, wheat, sugar, nectarines, ballrooms, bedrooms, dining room, gardens, fountains, wardrobes, theaters, looking and feeling good.

~Mars~

Lust, conquest, desire, flaming sword, red things, fights, iron, brass, bloodstone, carnelian, cinnabar, pyrite, magnetite, ruby, garnet, hematite, muscles, reproductive organs, blood, kidneys, immunity, heat, action, arms, pepper, sharp instruments, cutlery, attacks, scissors, weapons, physical intimacy, bites, stings, scalds, burns, accidents, hawthorn, pine, thorns, cactus, aloes, anemone, arnica, belladonna, garlic, ginger, hops, mustard seed, nettles, wormwood, chives, onions, leeks, radish, rhubarb, tobacco, labs, furnaces, distilleries, bakehouses, ovens, smiths, butchers, fields, anger, passion, self-focus.

~Jupiter~

Expansion, optimism, religion, religious sites, tin, seduction, turquoise, chrysocolla, topaz, citrine, jasper, liver, pancreas, pituitary gland, sciatic nerve, excess, abundance, prophecy, philosophy, knowledge, universities, foreign travel, luggage, honey, oil, silk, fruit, distinct clothing, merchandise, horses, domestic birds, gambling, indulgence, entertainment, oak, dandelion, sage, endive, chervil, asparagus, figs, churches, temples, palaces, altars, courts, mansions, woods, orchards, winery, cornucopia, connecting with the soul.

~Saturn~

Limits, boundaries, father time, lord of death, shadows, lead, iron, steel, calcium, asbestos, sulphur, diamond, onyx, calcite, skeleton, spleen, skin, teeth, nails, joints, structure, crystallization, old age, blockage, anything dark, wool, heavy materials, agriculture, wheelbarrows, spades, farm houses and buildings, cold, laws, aspen, blackthorn, buckthorn, cypress, elm, toxic plants, hemlock, henbane, belladonna, hellebore, barley, beetroot, safflower, parsnips, spinach, deserts, woods, valleys, caves, church yards, ruins, coalpits, sinks, wells, mud, institutions.

~Uranus~

Eccentrics, mavericks, invention, genius, revolution, change, trends, disruptive science or tech, uranium, magnesium, lapis lazuli, sapphire, aquamarine, azurite, chalcedony, electricity, neon lights, plaid, nervous and circulatory system, pineal gland, chaos, violence, upheaval, astrology, steam engines, coal, machinery, coins, baths, fishponds, dangerous places, computers, magnets, quantum physics, research, welfare, humanity, hypnotherapy, railways, banks, gas, psychiatric hospitals, offices, hospitals, dispensaries, fortified places, chemicals, mingled/mingling, spirit and matter.

~Neptune~

Illusions, veils, diffuse, deception, water, oceans, mysticism, enlightenment, artistic pursuit and understanding, zinc, potassium, amethyst, fluorite, jade, sugilite, coral, aquamarine, pineal gland, lymphatic and nervous system, spine, mental processes, addiction, psychoses, disease, photography, music, substances, gas, religion, poetry, mimicry, chameleon, anesthetic, telepathy, empathy, dancing, psychic gifts, places near water, hospitals, places of healing, jeweler, painters, brewers, musicians, visionary.

~Pluto~

Power, influence, darkness, new life, what's hidden underneath, seeds, volcanoes, deep earth or ocean, bury, explosions, eruptions, abduction, plutonium, smoky quartz, obsidian, jet, pearl, deep reds, reproductive organs, the unconscious, nuclear, transformation, death, birth, rebirth, underworld, riches, earthquakes, big business, murder, detection, detective, invisibility, sneak, enforced change, hidden places, underground, drains, sewers, radioactive places, the occult, black magic, sacrifice, renew.

[henk-heijmans]

Sulphur bath, Big Sur, California, ca. 1949 - by Ellen Auerbach (1906 - 2004), German

[pavus]

gortash smells like ambergris and musk, like black cherry and a hint of clove. he daubs perfume at his wrists and behind his ears every morning and after every bath, never wanting to smell of sweat and body odor and shoe leather and sulphur ever again. in vanity, he finds freedom — from memory, from the past, from disappointing parents and patronizing devils, from the boy he used to be, from enver flymm.

[creative-frequency]

What if Raphael teleported himself to Tav and she just so happens to be completely naked? Like they haven't really begun courting yet, and BAM! Now he is in her home and he is seeing the object of his affections interests in all of her glory when he wasn't expecting to.

Bonus points if Tav is super calm about it - minus any initial surprise - and just sighs and casually goes to start covering up, maybe while saying "So what can I do for you, Raphael?" or mumbling something like "And this kind of thing was why I asked Korrilla to tell me when to expect you. So much for 'that would never happen'... "

You can decide what happens from there.

You can decide what happens from here >:D

Raphael x GN!Reader: Put on Some Clothes

Multiple things happen simultaneously and your train of thought speeds through the initial panic to relief and back to mild chagrin. First, you smell the hint of sulphur that permeates your dim bedroom. There is no time to react or put on any clothes as the familiar scent is quickly followed by an almost blinding ring of hellfire right in the middle of the floor.

Grinding your teeth, you hastily pull a tunic over your head. You’re painfully aware that Raphael just had seconds to stare at the full glory of your naked backside. And that you’re wearing nothing underneath. And that the tunic hem now barely covers your bottom. You could swear the bastard timed his arrival on purpose. At least this time he waited until after you were done with the bath.

“So what can I do for you Raphael?” you turn to ask and force your expression neutral.

Raphael surely sees the faint red of embarrassment flushing your skin as he stalks closer with a smug smile. What a bastard.

“Apologies if I arrived at a bad time,” he says and you could swear he knows perfectly well that it was indeed a bad time.

You clear your throat, deciding to suffer bravely as Raphael’s gaze rakes over your bare legs. You refuse to shrink back from the carnal attention that licks your core with hot flames. Raphael’s eyes flash with delight. This is how it always was with him – the play of cat and mouse, temptations and unsaid things. You swallow and hope he doesn’t notice it.

“As per our standing contract, I have a job for you,” Raphael says as if he is discussing the weather. His eyes still brazenly skim over your form, up and down. Each swoop makes your insides clench and you try your hardest not to brush your thighs together.

“Right,” you sigh. “Can it wait until after I’ve put on some clothes? Or are we in a hurry?”

Raphael’s smirk darkens and it shoots a scorching wave through you. You hold his gaze.

“Of course, my dear. Allow me to assist you in picking out the perfect outfit for this job.”

[djmorn]

The Infernal Bathhouse

or: Wing Care Part 3

word count: 4,825

rating: mature

Raphael x Warlock!Reader (GN)

A/N: This chapter is dedicated to my good friend and amazingly talented writer @adevilyoudo. Writing can be a lonesome hobby and it is truly wonderful to have someone along for the ride, talking about the craft, supporting each other, and throwing ideas around, be they serious or humorous. Thanks for all your help and friendship, I hope you enjoy this.

And with that ladies and gentlemen, I present to you: Stink Spirit Raphael.

It was a long run up the staircase which led to the colossal building. Upon ascending the final steps you made a halt – first and foremost to catch your breath then take a moment and marvel at the incredible architectural sight towering before you: Tall pillars of marble fronted the infernal bathhouse, the stone untouched by any mark of the Blood War, and yet it still cast forth an aura of ancient history. You read the inscription above the entrance. The Infernal translated to ‘Ataxia Averna’. High up on top of the building a blood-red banner waved in the wind, proudly displaying the same words in golden lettering. Why would Raphael send you here?

His letter had been even more obscure than the last one. Apparently you were to meet your next contract in this place which you thought an odd location to confront one of his debtors to say the least, and with such little information given to boot. At least Raphael had been gracious enough to mention that the bathhouse’s kindly proprietor would point you in the right direction. So all there was left to do was simply have faith in your patron supplying this stranger with further – hopefully helpful details… Fantastic.

You let out a sigh. Trusting Raphael to not be unnecessarily dramatic and mysterious? This assignment was off to a good start.

Approaching the entrance you noticed it was neither guarded nor protected by some kind of magic keeping any possible unwanted guests at bay. How strange.

With faith in your knowledge of warding spells and perhaps a dangerous dose of curiosity, you stepped inside the infernal establishment and were immediately greeted by an overwhelming assault to the senses: Steam clouded the grand hall making your eyes grow watery, relentlessly the mist rose from pools built in the crimson marble floor. These baths came in every shape and size with an especially enormous one at the center, and each of them occupied by various kinds of fiends. You saw demons and devils, orthons, hags and abishais, all lounging in the waters, seeming oddly at peace with one another. Some of them treated themselves to exotic fruits on plates of gold, carried about the hall by faithful lemures. And all about was that pungent smell of sulphur, perverted by scented oils impossible to make out in detail amidst this madness. But even in your astonishment at this bizarre scene you could not help but wonder at this peculiar display of truce, and in Avernus at that!

Your eyes wandered from the pillars high up to the ceiling. Here the marble lightened, giving room to a gorgeous painting adorning its stone. Yes, gorgeous it was. Gorgeous and gruesome. In the finest detail the artist had depicted a battle scene of the Blood War, still raging everywhere but here apparently. Squinting your eyes you could make out the many intricacies of this mirror to the scene below it, frozen in time and oil: Its protagonists wallowed in pools of blood, some of them screaming, suffering a horrible death, others basked in the glory of their victims’ demise and the carnage. Imps circled the sky like vultures. You raised a brow as you surveyed the scene. You had to admit that the artist had a funny sense of humour, and for a moment you wondered what fate might have befallen them.

To your left someone cleared their throat and drew you out of your musings and your attention towards the sound’s source. Behind a long desk sat a succubus, as beautiful as only sin could be and blessed with that tempting air of authority akin to the most convincing players spawned in the Nine. Above her loomed a comically large window, opened to let the steam escape, granting her lobby at least some kind of clear view. Flanking the desk stood two nupperibos which were armed with fans to help guide the mist away from their mistress, and above three nasty looking imps fluttered about, their cruel glowing eyes seemingly assessing the newcomer. They started pointing and snickering.

As soon as the succubus noticed your eyes on her she shot you a wink, with one clawed forefinger beckoning you to approach. You followed her bid without hesitation.

‘My, my, what do we have here?’ she chirped as you came closer. ‘It’s not everyday we get a visit from a mortal to this humble establishment.’

‘Nothing humble about it,’ you gave back confidently, putting on the charm. ‘It is a shame I am here on business.’

Your eyes went to a sign on the desk. The Infernal spelled out the name ‘Circe’, identifying the she-devil before you. Circe eyed you up and down.

‘You must be his warlock.’

She smiled as you introduced yourself, taking a drag from the long, thin pipe made of gold held in her right hand. The smoke’s smell seemed to pierce the steam-filled air.

‘Then Raphael told you. That’s a relief at least.’

‘Hmm, yes,’ Circe mused. ‘He likes his cryptic little antics, my favourite cambion.’ A chuckle escaped her lips and turned to laughter like embers become flame under a dragon’s maw. The imps above joined in their mistress’s glee, likely unaware of the joke, posturing serving nothing but approval. Circe’s laughter ceased at once and she shot them a stern look.

‘Shut up,’ she barked and the tiny fiends put their hands over their mouths and scattered behind her obediently. Circe directed her attention back to you. ‘Never mind the imps, nor any other fiend in this place for that matter. You are my guest of honour and no harm shall befall Raphael’s darling warlock.’ Another roguish wink.

‘Right,’ you said, not quite sure what to make of the shrewd temptress. ‘Thank you. I was instructed to ask you for further details concerning my target.’

She huffed and puffed more smoke. ‘You warlocks are all the same: All business, no fun. So who of my guests is it then? Which loyal, paying customer am I to loose to that perfumed trickster?’

‘Um…’ You shifted your legs about, suddenly horribly embarrassed about knowing so little of your target, and avoiding eye contact with Circe at all cost your gaze wandered off to the side, locking onto that of the nupperibo. Staring into its beady, empty eyes you wondered if yours currently reflected the same ignorance.

Then Circe’s laughter pulled you out of your dissociation. ‘Oh, come on, I’m only messing with you,’ she said, waving off the smoke directly into an imp’s face. The succubus ignored its coughing. ‘Poor thing, I know your patron’s been vague with you. You will find your target in a private room on the first floor, the one at the very end. Inside is a supreme balcony looking down the great hall which you can survey from an exquisite bath, yours to enjoy once your work’s done. On the house, sweetheart, and don’t you worry…’ She leaned in closer, the flames dancing in her eyes seemingly burning right into your soul. ‘No devil will disturb you up there. Around here we still value the meaning of the word “privacy”.’

And with that Circe directed you towards the staircase.

You took your time to look at the bathhouse’s pools and the hell-folk that were its guests. Some of them were engaged in eager chatter while indulging in the heat of the water, going over deals and contracts made in the mortal realm.

‘Now, that ambitious princess of yours is a fool to have agreed to this,’ you overheard a massive orthon say to a red devil seated next to him.

‘Be that as it may,’ the other gave back. ‘Her soul will make a most delicious meal one way or the other.’

‘Wanna bet a soul coin on it?’

‘Make it three.’

As they laughed your attention drifted to another pair. These two had placed a game of lanceboard on the bank between them, pondering their moves while a party of onlookers drifted around, enjoying this extra bit of entertainment adding to their indulgence. Some of them began to whisper to each other as you walked by. Hells, never in your whole life would you have imagined to one day walk around a steaming bathhouse filled with devils, quietly judging you, but all of them surprisingly peaceful and blissfully naked.

Three hags were taking a break from wallowing in the pools and – towels swung around their dripping bodies – currently enthralled with a peculiar game, its dice a shape which you had never seen before. You halted, taking a closer look.

‘A twenty, ha!’ one of them bellowed while her playmates regarded the boastful winner with grim faces. ‘Suck it, ye cunts.’

‘I vote to never invite you to play with us ever again. Maybe we should start looking for a replacement.’

‘Hey, how about this one?’

You froze up as the hook-nosed hag pointed her finger at you.

‘Yes, they look a righteous little no-cheat, and if they loose we’ll feast on their marrow, ha ha ha. What do you say to that, dearie?’

‘I am flattered,’ you said. ‘Afraid I have no time though. Got an invitation up there,’ and you gestured towards the staircase.

‘Ohoho, proper high and mighty thing, aren’t we, tiny, tasty warlock? Must belong to quite the powerful fiend, hmm?’

‘Yes,’ the twenty-dice hag agreed. ‘Well, petal, tell us: Who is it then?’

‘Raphael the cambion.’

‘Ugh.’ The hook-nosed hag let out a snarky snort, waving her hand dismissively, her interest in your companionship or your marrow gone up in cold smoke. ‘Well, you go on and be a good little fuck then.’

‘Aye, choose a better patron in the next life, sweetie.’

‘Hush now. Can’t let you two ruin my winning streak.’

Without another word you left the group to their game, thinking you quite agreed with twenty-dice hag: What a bunch of horrible, old cunts.

Finally you made your way up the staircase Circe had directed you towards. Its banisters were decorated with ornamental sculptures: Imps leering at you like gargoyles and busts of important looking devils silently making an assessment of you through their blind alabaster eyes. Reaching the first floor you saw just how strong the bathhouse was built. The stone could easily host even more pools up here although they were quite smaller than the ones below, more private, resulting in a less crowded and more tranquil experience.

Not wanting to waste any time here too you approached the room at the end of the hallway, its doors closed shut. This must be the suite! Here you were, quite a way off from any curious onlookers, ideal conditions to not disrupt the peace.

Softly you twisted the knob, peeking inside you saw nobody, and with quiet steps you entered, closing the door behind you. There was that luxurious bath Circe had described all right, and indeed it reached out over the balcony, offering a soothing time within the interior of the private suite as well as a nice view over the crowd below; it could make one feel like royalty. The floor was littered with rose petals.

But by the Nine, where was your target?

A noise came from the wall to your left, there was another door, and its knob was turning. Shit. You reached for your weapon, preparing your mind for a fight and channeling your power for an Eldritch Blast, and from out the room stepped…

‘Raphael?’

Caught totally off-guard you sheathed your weapon back in its place, face scrunched up in confusion, then you noticed the blood, and its smell.

From his horns to the tip of his boots the crimson cambion was covered in even more red. Your bewilderment turned to trouble.

‘Raphael, what happened?’

But the devil’s face showed only mild amusement. ‘Nothing to worry about, little mouse,’ he said, waving off your concerns lazily, the movement of his hand sending sprinkles of blood to the floor. ‘I felt it was about time I took my… sweet revenge on that fiend I had quarreled with earlier. You remember?’

‘The one who damaged your wings?’

Demonstratively Raphael shook said wings, sending more droplets of gore onto the rich marble. ‘The very one,’ he said, a sardonic sneer dancing over his lips.

You found it hard to take your eyes from this unexpected scene. ‘Well, um, that’s good to hear.’ What exactly does one say to that? ‘I’m afraid I just don’t quite understand why we are here now.’

Raphael chuckled. ‘Oh, you have to forgive the misleading letter. It was such short notice and therefore I felt gracious enough to treat you to something nice and perhaps more extravagant this time around.’ He gestured about the room. ‘How do you like the bathhouse? I expect Circe has treated you as a very welcome and special guest like I asked her to?’

‘She did… but the meaning behind all of this still escapes me. What was all of that about my target?’

‘My dear, don’t tell me you really can’t see it. I am your target,’ and Raphael opened his arms wide like a magician revealing his grand trick, flashing a satisfied smirk at you. At your silence and the perplexed look on your face he continued, the seriousness back in his voice and expression. ‘Seeing as my good humour seems utterly wasted on you I shall explain plainly: I am covered in blood and gore right now, as you – with any luck – may have noticed, and am in dire need of a bath. Hence, the locale. And since you have proven yourself o so pleasantly capable of indulging me with your deft little hands, I thought to call upon you. Hence, the letter.’

His words were soft as silk but underneath that honeyed veil you sensed a growing tension rise. Was he self-conscious about asking this of you? So instead of giving out a simple ‘Oh?’ not to mention a possible remark about the way he reeked, you instead chose to free him from the awkwardness all too known to you. After all, Raphael appeared to have indeed thought the bathhouse to be a nice treat for you – in his world, one made up of a… curious way of looking at its inhabitants and his judgement over them, for better or worse. All the more reason to present yourself most grateful. ‘Well, I am flattered, Raphael, really. Of course I will fulfill my duty with the utmost dedication.’ Adding to your previous trail of thought: You found yourself not lying, actually looking forward to once again put your hands on your master, drawing the most delicious sounds from him. And if you had to wash up some blood for that sweet sensation then so be it!

The devil could sense the truth in your words and smiled at you, today’s premiere genuine one. ‘Excellent! I would have expected nothing less from my favourite protégé.’ He clapped his hands together. ‘Never mind the clothes.’

And with a snap of his fingers your patron stood in front of you just as bare as the rest of the bathhouse’s guests.

You could not stop your eyes from widening. Of course you were in a place that rather called for the stripping of one’s attire but no circumstance in the world could have prepared you for Raphael suddenly standing naked before you. He seemed so nonchalant about it too, you could practically feel the room’s aura filling with pride coming from the devil from whom you could not avert your gaze even if decency and respect before your master would demand it. You had not considered the possibility of Raphael being just as susceptible to this place of debauchery as everyone else. But my, what a sight he was!

Back in the boudoir you had already witnessed the man’s broad shoulders, his inviting chest sprouting a fluff of coarse hair, and fine scales covering his cambion form. You had marveled at your master’s beauty before and now – at last – you could see all of him, barely noticing the blood anymore. Those thick thighs on him, not to mention that member, as veiny and ribbed like the rest of him, as wide as your biceps and as long as your forearm, if you had to make a quick assessment that is. And then you could not help but wonder what it would feel like…

Suddenly you became very aware of Raphael’s glowing eyes on you. The smug look on his face brought even more colour to your face and finally you averted your gaze politely.

‘Your appraisal is noted and appreciated,’ he said and turned to approach the bath. Stepping inside he let out a satisfied sigh as he let himself sink deeper into the water, and more steam rose from the pool. You still stood there, frozen in place, not quite knowing how to proceed.

‘Well,’ Raphael continued while taking inventory of the small vials on the bank beside him. ‘What kind of oils do you prefer? To enhance this experience,’ he added, sending you a questioning look and tilting his head.

You really had no idea about the meaning behind these scented oils, nor what each of their effects may be, so you chose to just settle for something that you thought smelt nice: ‘Jasmine, I guess. Do they have that?’

Raphael’s smile turned to a conspiratorial smirk and immediately you felt like you had made a risqué choice, but then again – the devil was obviously in a teasing mood ever since shedding his clothes. Now he rummaged through the vials again until: ‘Ah, here it is – jasmine. Delightful choice, a real classic for two people wanting to spend some quality time with one another.’ With fervour he opened the vial and poured its contents into the water.

Hells, what had you agreed to?

‘Now then, come a little closer. No need to be so shy, we have this whole room to ourselves. I have made arrangements that nobody is to disturb us up here.’

Following his beckoning you noticed the oil’s scent rapidly filling the room and you could not help but deeply inhale the intoxicating aroma. You fidgeted your hands. Oddly enough, finally laying your hands on Raphael could actually help calm yourself down at last. Yes. Touching him. Letting your fingers glide over his strong, strong shoulders… Stop it! No lusting over your master now. You were dead sure the devil could sense your feelings about this whole situation, about him. O, to be blessed with that same kind of magic he seemed to possess.

Dutifully you knelt down on the bank, right behind him, getting ready to spoil him with your massaging once more.

‘What are you doing up there?’ Raphael interrupted you.

‘How do you mean?’ You were genuinely perplexed by his sudden change of mind. Did he not want you to bathe him after all?

The devil explained: ‘I could have any common slave genuflect behind me and do their duty without any trace of satisfaction on their part if I wanted to.’ He waved his hand in invitation. ‘Join me. The water is blissfully warm.’

Was he being serious? You could not possibly strip naked in front of your boss, your master, a devil! – albeit a cambion but an extremely powerful one still – not to mention jump into a steaming pool with him, the smell of jasmine in the air only adding to your already absolutely inappropriate trail of thought. Surely he was just testing your sense of professionalism now, having breached it once before when you practically ogled his toned body and cock.

Raphael took notice of your hesitation, raising an eyebrow. ‘Is there a problem?’

‘Forgive me, Master,’ you said. ‘Are you sure this is not a tad bit inappropriate?’

For a moment Raphael seemed to truly be taken aback by your words, turning sideways to look you directly in the eyes. ‘My dear, I had not meant to impose my company on you like that.’ He put his hand over his heart. ‘Trust me when I say, I only meant to offer you some indulgence in turn, in thanks for your continued services to me. After all, I did promise you to return the favour before, didn’t I?’

You threw up your hands in defense. ‘No, no, that’s not what I meant at all. I’m sorry, Raphael. I was talking about our relationship in general, you know, as business partners.’

‘Oh. So you fear for the professionalism in this matter?’

You nodded.

‘Well then,’ he said, clapping his hands together and letting out a sigh of relief. ‘That’s some weight off my chest.’ You could not believe your eyes and ears: Your words seemed to have really put Raphael back at ease. ‘Don’t you worry, my dear,’ the devil continued, and reached out to you with one clawed finger, gently but all too briefly brushing your chin. ‘This shall have no negative impact on our relationship as business partners. Indeed I believe it should have quite the opposite effect. What better way to bond and build trust in one another than bathing in the blood of a mutual enemy, hmm?’

A nervous chuckle erupted from your throat. ‘All right,’ you said, standing up, hesitantly adding: ‘But no peaking, yes?’

Raphael beamed at you and put his hands over his eyes playfully. ‘On my honour as a devil, I shan’t.’

You took a few steps away from the pool and started removing your shirt, then followed your trousers, and you could not stop thinking about how this scenario would unfold. Why did Raphael do all this? Had he indeed guessed your true feelings for him and wanted to manipulate you to further strengthen your loyalty towards him? But then why had he looked so utterly embarrassed at the thought he was pushing you to do something you might not want to?

Naked at last you turned to face the man who had conjured all this confusion within your mind, and you saw that Raphael was looking directly at you, arm resting on the bank.

‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘I simply could not resist. And besides: We’re about to bathe together, little mouse. We’re bound to see each other – all of one another – at some point.’

Despite your indignation at his mischievousness you could not argue with that logic and approached the pool. Raphael’s eyes did not leave your form as you stepped into the water, and – oh my, was it warm!

‘Too hot for you?,’ asked the hunk of a devil, making room for you.

‘No,’ you said. ‘Just need a moment to adjust.’

‘That’s perfectly normal for a mortal like you.’ You made a mental note to wipe that smirk off his face along with the blood.

You sank into the pool, glad that the water reached up to your neck, covering your body at least somewhat. The depths of the pool offered another bank underwater, and you took seat, the overwhelming feel of the heat slowly wearing off. You could feel yourself relaxing.

‘Better?’

You nodded, feeling your eyelids lowering as the tension left your muscles, then you remembered you still had a devil to wash! Blinking, you quickly went to move behind him, and noticed a sponge lying on the bank, a bottle of soap next to it. You reached for the utilities and started prepping them for your next undertaking, dipping the soap-soaked sponge into the water and squeezing it gently before bringing it up to Raphael’s upper back.

Once you made contact with his skin the devil let out a soft sigh. ‘Oh, how I’ve missed this.’

You could feel yourself blushing once more, his words of appreciation never failing to make your insides flutter with excitement.

‘I’m glad you’re enjoying this already.’ Because you sure as hell did! You did not even care that you could still smell the sweet stench of blood and guts on him. All was well as long as you had Raphael pliant under your touch, purring like a satisfied house-cat. Smiling, you decided to better not let him know you thought of him like that. Better to just have Raphael assume all you wanted from him was a bounce on his cock, rearranging your organs.

Sliding the sponge over his back, drawing affectionate circles around his neck, you moved to his right shoulder where the blood was especially sticky, rubbing a little harder there. That drew the most delicious groan from Raphael.

‘You are so good at this,’ he sighed. ‘Although I do prefer the touch of your skin…’

Without hesitation you removed one hand from the sponge and laid it onto his shoulder, caressing it with your thumb.

‘Such a good little mouse.’

Once more you went to work on Raphael’s back, neck, and wings, putting in just the right amount of cleaning and massaging, thoroughly enjoying the small sounds of pleasure coming from the relaxed devil. Then he made a move, stretching his long limbs and swimming a little further towards the balcony, putting both his arms onto the bank and resting his head on them. Pliantly you followed him, schooling yourself not to look at his ass too much.

Raphael surveyed the scene below, the hell-folk in the main hall totally unaware of the intimate scene currently conspiring on the first floor between a certain half-devil being a little too familiar with his warlock.

‘They all look down on me,’ he mused. ‘Some do it in secret of course, others… are less shy about their disdain.’ If by design or unintentionally his left wing twitched, maybe a reminder of his past fight when you had taken care of him for the first time.

As gently as you could muster you let your fingers graze over the soft membrane and the twitching calmed down. You moved to lean in closer to your master. ‘Well, for now it is you looking down on them, Raphael.’

Even with his face slightly averted you could make out the smile forming on his lips. ‘I got to meet some of them while I was downstairs,’ you continued. ‘Most seem rotten to the core anyway if you ask me. They’re not… They are nothing like you, Raphael.’

At that the cambion slowly turned around, sitting down on the bank below the water, and once more you barely believed your eyes when he spread out his arms invitingly. ‘Come here,’ he said, and you found yourself unable to deny him his command – no, his wish – to have you to hold to support him in his moment of vulnerability. You moved to seat yourself on top of his legs, these thick thighs, and almost shuddered when he put his arms around you with a gentleness you never would have expected from him.

‘O, a bastard fiend like me could not hope for more, having such a loyal warlock by my side. A sweet little thing who adores me.’ He tensed up once more, only slightly but noticeably. The look in his eyes was almost pleading. ‘Right?’

With courage in your heart you tried to ease his mind by bringing your hand up to his face, caressing his cheek. ‘Yes, Master.’

‘Raphael.’

‘Raphael.’

‘In all the Nine no creature could make my name sound as sweet as you, love.’

Love. What an odd thing to call one’s employee. But you had no time to ponder the level of appropriateness of yet another of your master’s quirks as he drew you closer towards him, letting you rest on top of his chest while he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead.

You stayed like that for a while, Raphael drawing circles over your back, tentatively mimicking your own past ministrations, with your nose in his chest hair and your hands peacefully resting in the water, never straying too far from the devil below you. It was an experience of true and utter tranquility, just as the bathhouse had advertised, and you started to regret thinking Raphael might have had some ulterior motive, coaxing you into the pool with him. Your words to him rang truer now that you realised he really wasn’t at all like those other devils and could not be farther from the picture those hags had tried to paint for you, that he was looking to use you for his own pleasure like a common whore. In this moment Raphael showed more of his mortal side to you than ever before: A man with his own set of doubts and insecurities, needing the affection and friendship of a loved one just like everybody else.

You placed a kiss on his chest. ‘Raphael?’

‘Hmm?’

‘You don’t need to write of some made-up target in your letters. I’m happy to do this for you any time you want.’

He said nothing to that, but being so close to him you could have sworn you felt his heart skip a beat.

[sebastianswallows]

The English Client — Four

— PAIRING: Tom Riddle x F!Reader

— SYNOPSIS: The year is 1952. Tom is working for Borgin and Burkes. He is sent to Rome to acquire three ancient books of magic by any means necessary. One in particular proves challenging to reach, and the only path forward is through a pretty, young bookseller. A foreigner like him, she lives alone, obsessed with her work... until Tom comes into her life.

— WARNINGS: none, but almost main character death lol

— WORDCOUNT: 2.5k

I

Tom stayed away for a few days. He stalked around some other rare book stores but found none of what Caractacus Burke was searching for. Still, it gave ample enough time for her to forget about him. He needed to be out of her mind before he carried out his plan.

He sat at a café outside her store one evening, waiting to see her go home again. Not able to stand another cup of coffee, hot and bitter, he decided to try something he’d seen so many other locals eating. It was called ‘gelato’. A frozen treat, it looked like clotted cream and was eaten with a little spoon. Tom regretted ordering it the moment it arrived, but with each bite, he became a little fonder of it. It was cold and vaguely sweet with a drizzling of cherry jam on top. He reached the bottom of the cup before he even realised, and licked the spoon clean afterwards.

She stepped out later this time, at around six o’clock. Tom got up not long after but he didn’t follow her. His gaze trailed after her from behind a pair of aviator shades — her white shirt fluttering with each step, hair soft upon her shoulders — and let himself enjoy the view until she disappeared beyond the curve of a building that bent like a wave. Then he turned the other way, the way she came from.

The lamp lights were just coming on, bathing the marble a sulphuric yellow. He took his sunglasses off and tucked them in his shirt as he slid through the narrow street the shop was on. There was nobody around, but he could hear the echoes of other people through the walls of the nearby buildings. The area was a mix of domestic and commercial, small old flats and little shops which made it quite unpredictable. It was a very intimate setting, and dangerous for that very reason — few escape routes should anyone appear.

He peered through the glass first at the organised chaos inside, the clutter and piles of precious old things that lifetimes would not suffice to explore. Between them, Tom saw his reflection staring back. He aimed his wand at each lock and muttered an Alohomora. The spell let him in like butter.

The shop was just faintly lit from beyond the large display windows, rendering every book and smooth wood surface into a little sunburst. The air was light with dust, and dry, and cold in the way libraries often were. The pillars that held the ceiling high were cinder-black, and carved so finely that the wood seemed lace and pillow soft. A sweet scent lingered in the cavernous construction. It really was a marvellous atmosphere… Tom wouldn’t have minded staying if circumstances were different. His grandfather’s ring trilled around his finger.

Regardless of how old the building was, the interior was certainly built to order. It had a hint of the Victorian with a Renaissance flair. Tom had been in enough rich people’s houses to tell. It amused him how much they were all alike in taste, as if they were part of the same secret breed.

He stepped further in. The floorboards creaked and, looking down, a small amount of dust flew up. Curious. Perhaps it really didn’t get that many customers so often. The other shops he had visited this week all seemed to have at least another two clients while he was there… Strange, as this shop was bursting with books, and in an accessible location too. Tom could only guess that either they were prohibitively selective with their clientele, or the place had a bad reputation.

He found her ledgers tucked underneath the desk. They were split into three themes: Letteratura, Religione, and Esoterismo. He opened the latter.

It was detailed, thick, and finely indexed with the most minuscule writing. Instead of listing their catalogue, it listed all the authors they seemed to have an interest in, whether or not they held any of their books. Prices were next to certain volumes, along with purchasing dates. Others were annotated with the shop or collector that held them. From Agrippa to Cheiro to Crowley, from Novalis to Paracelsus, Roerich, and Sepharial, they had their eye on everyone. He turned toward the end, pale finger brushing through the T’s.

They had nothing by Tamisso, another author on his list, although they did have a copy of The Lost Word by Trevisan — a more recent edition than the 1870 one that Mr. Burke wanted, but still serviceable. But what he was really looking for was Torchia.

And he found him. A whole half-page was dedicated to him, even if the books were few and three-quarters of the space was empty. They must’ve expected to find more of his works in the future.

But as he was reading, the ring started feeling heavier, like its black stone wanted to pull loose. Oftentimes, the splinter of his soul that was trapped inside was a bit of a canary in a coal mine, more sensitive to changes in Tom’s surroundings than he was… He gazed suspiciously toward the ring and put the ledger down.

Tom looked up at the ceiling. It was tall and too dark to see, absorbing the most highly placed volumes like a black hole, like a void. Looking down, between the floorboards, the same infinite darkness. It occurred to him that perhaps the place was cursed. An unlikely idea given that it was a building belonging to muggles, but he’d seen stranger things. And after all, he still didn’t know who the owner was.

He looked at the catalogue again.

Torchia, A.

Key to Captive Thoughts, 1653 — four three copies

A Curious Explanation of Mysteries and Hieroglyphs, 1655 — one copy sold to H. Àristos, 1949

The Three Books of the Art, 1658 — one copy, private ownership → Luce

He scanned further down the line, and there it was: Delomelanicon.

It wasn’t written up like the others. It had no number, no mention of its year of publication, nor even where it was. All it had was a strange symbol next to it, like a plus sign with a downward arrow. Tom couldn’t guess what it meant.

But they had it, they must have. He closed the book with satisfaction and an overflow of greed, and carefully put it back in its place.

II

With the bookshop all to himself, Tom explored at his leisure. He stepped lightly, almost reverently, through its misty dusty rooms veiled by growing darkness. He cast Lumos when entering the second room, which had no windows to the outside world. A thick red carpet muffled his steps.

His first stop was at the section where she had searched for Helena Blavatsky, assuming the shelves followed the logic of the ledgers and were organised thematically as well as alphabetically. He pulled the ladder over and started to climb, holding the wand between the tips of his fingers.

Names spread before him, ancient and powerful. Some of them were only mentioned in the most proscribed of texts, others he hadn’t even heard of. It was one thing to see them listed so economically, and another to see their naked spines, crack them open, part them, and touch their wavy pages.

He had to pause once he came across a 17th-century copy of the Cyranides. How many men died for merely reading this book… What horror, what beauty. He turned to the page on the use of bezoars and smiled. The illustration braided around the page was of a watersnake, unmoving, done with an almost childish hand. It was from a more innocent time when such magical knowledge was a thing of fear and wonder, exclusive and yet renown, whispered about, admired. Not hidden away.

Holding the wand between his teeth, Tom pulled the ladder and himself a bit further to the right. Its wheels were loud enough to make him wince.

He found a wealth of books in this place that made him feel things he had not felt in a while: greed, desire, admiration… He hadn’t seen so many wonderful tomes since Hogwarts. For long moments in large swaths, he forgot his mission. Eagerly, his hands picked up any volumes he could reach without the ladder tipping over, and he sipped in eager drops the ancient wisdom, a few pages at a time, admiring the crude but honest illustrations before, with a heavy heart, putting them back on the shelf.

Finally, he reached Torchia. A few of his works were there, the same ones mentioned in the ledger, but not the Delomelanicon. Tom brushed his finger on the shelf, and it came up with a fluff of dust. Hadn’t been touched for a long time…

It occurred to him as he climbed down the ladder that they could have had hidden compartments, as such bookstores sometimes did. Borgin and Burkes did too, although theirs was hidden by magic. Muggles would have had some contraption hidden behind a painting or shelf. He cast another glance around him before moving forward again, step by heavy step. Between those dormant shelves, he saw another surreptitious doorway toward another room.

III

The place grew labyrinthian. Tom felt as though he was disturbing a tomb, and without even needing to his steps grew gentler. The ring around his finger ached again, but he ignored it.

He was exploring a glass case with a pyramid of skulls in the corner of a room three doorways from the entrance, further in the building and blissfully chill on the exposed skin of his arms and neck, when suddenly he noticed something about the creaking of the floorboards: he couldn’t hear it anymore.

Tom looked down, his shoes soft on the carpet, and shifted his weight. No sound, but there was a bit of a tilt beneath him as the wood moved. He moved to the side and toed the carpet away. At first glance, he noticed nothing strange, but when he cast Revelio, a piece of metal shone and the edges of a trapdoor revealed themselves before him.

“I’ve got you now,” he grinned.

He stepped away, grabbed the edges of the carpet, and folded it further back. It was a trapdoor alright, large enough for two people to fit through. The area was clean, as if it saw regular use. Could it be a secret way into and out of the shop? Well, he’d seen her always use the front door, so it was most likely a storage area.

He dug into his trouser pocket for something, anything that he could use, and found the Swiss army knife he’d gotten from Clement. The thought occurred to him that it was a misuse of a gift to rob a bookshop with it, but that thought died quickly in Tom’s heated mind. He had a job to do.

He slid its blade between the folds of wood and pressed the handle down. Marvolo’s ring squeezed and pulled at his finger, and Tom cursed at it to be quiet. The trapdoor undulated at the strain as he moved the blade around, but the thing was as good as nailed down on all sides.

“Come on, you piece of muggle trash, open,” he hissed between clenched teeth.

He pushed, edging the wood upwards, and the bit of leverage made it flap as far as its hinges would allow. Holding the wand between his teeth for light, he moved it slightly, checking in every direction for a keyhole. The only thing he found was a burn mark that shone in the faint light, small and round and crested. It was probably a hidden button or a kind of keyhole, the kind of which he’d seen before in a couple of places both at Hogwarts and elsewhere. Tom grinned, moved the blade there, and pressed harder right beneath it.

“Aaaah!” he groaned, nearly dropping the wand from his teeth.

The ring was shooting pain all the way up his arm now, and his muscles strained. He clenched his teeth and pressed the blade in further, deeper, but the longer he tried to get it open, the more useless the attempt seemed, and he was overcome with a feeling of wrongness — as if he actually cared that he was trespassing.

He got up, sighed, and wiped the sweat off his brow. The feeling of guilt that had been bubbling in his stomach crested and crawled up his bones until he felt the sickness in his throat. He was overcome with the desire to leave and put this place behind him. A traitorous thought…

No, he wasn’t feeling sick. That nasty little door was enchanted. There was probably a curse on it, not too dissimilar to those placed on Egyptian tombs, meant to ward prospective thieves away. The emotions that swirled in his breast, the guilt, the shame, none of it came from him. It was something he was forced to feel by whatever enchantment guarded the place. What an insidious little spell… He frowned and pointed his wand down at the trapdoor again.

“Finite incantatem.”

Nothing happened.

“Finite incantatem!” he said again, more clearly and imperious.

The trapdoor mocked him with its silence. Tom looked down at his wand as if it were impotent.

“Of all the damned… Revelio,” he cast again, but nothing new appeared. “Alohomora!”

And that was when it struck him.

The spell worked, but just for an instant before it was undone and something fired back at him. A shard of death crawled up his spine and pooled inside his heart, pushing him backwards into the sharp edge of a table. The lamps on it rattled from the impact.

He felt dizzy for a moment, his body numb and cold, then nauseous when his senses came back to him at once. Pain billowed at his lower back so hard it filled his throat with bile. He clung to the edge of the table and kept himself just barely standing, managing the breath to groan.

“By Salazar’s f-fucking… Ow!”

Among all the sudden pain, he noticed that his arm was numb. The ring had stopped hurting him. It got its point across… The door was cursed, and so severely that, if not for his Horcrux, he surely would have died.

Tom clenched his teeth and hissed at the bothersome little entrance, cursing it in parseltongue. He kicked the carpet back over it and rubbed his aching hip where he already felt a bruise forming. There was nothing else he could do there, at least not tonight. He’d have to go back to his hotel, hopefully not limping all the way, and plan his next steps.

“I’ll get you yet,” he muttered with a parting glare. “And whatever mongrel of a mage made you.”

[aiweirdness]

AI-generated donuts

If you're going to open a late-night donut shop, you're going to need a unique set of over-the-top donuts to set the proper festive atmosphere. But how to keep the ideas coming?

I decided to see what donut ideas I could get using OpenAI's GPT-3 text-generating models. I collected seven of the weirdest donuts and descriptions I could find (such as a pizza donut, or a dirt-themed donut), and presented them as a list for the AI to complete. I've drawn a few of the best donuts it added to the list.

[human illustrations of some of the ai-generated donuts below]

When I say I used "GPT-3" for this project it's hard to be exact about it, because OpenAI often updates the models. The newest GPT-3 versions (as of May 2022) actually did the worst at this task - they kept presenting me with real donuts that they'd seen during their online training, and not even particularly weird donuts. They were trying to match what was most common online, not what I was asking for. But the original early-2020 GPT-3 models were more willing to deliver the weirdness. Here are some more of my favorite results from the various models!

The biggest model, DaVinci

Violet Beauregarde - A lemon glazed donut with blue raspberry eyes and a raspberry center The Candleberry Flu - A chocolate doughnut filled inside with ganache plus a dripping candle on top that's dripping liquid sediments Brick of Yum - A glazed doughnut sandwiching American cheese, with red pepper jelly inside The Confusatron - A doughnut sliced into three layers - vanilla, coconut, and chocolate, dipped in chocolate ganache and topped with sugar pearls that look like circuit boards The Purple Stuff - Chocolate, oreo, and purple stuff sprinkled with powdered sugar

Curie, the second-largest model

Heckleberry - A strawberry donut smothered with blueberry syrup and crushed vegan Crunchies Donut of Doom - Rainbow donut filled with Frosted Flakes, black sprinkles, and sour candy The Alligator Rising - A spiral donut, frosted with chocolate and filled with a filling of chocolate hard-boiled egg and green apple slices Hell Raisin - A jelly donut with a filling of peanut butter and hot dogs Dark Crystal - A donut filled with candy corn and white chocolate chips I ♥ My Gay Ex - A rainbow Jell-O donut with white frosting, red sugar sprinkles, and pink glitter Fish N' Chips – Topped with chocolate and tangy tempura-flavoured icing

Babbage, the second-smallest model

Mr Crepe - Topped with tapioca pudding, green sprinkles Little Red Apples - Topped with pumpkin bread crumbs and small red apples Chalkista - Stationary donut with chalk dusting Horns - Cupcake gripped in both of the animal’s horns Julius Rooms - A pair of bottomless donuts Doughnut Forest - A profusion of donuts spread throughout the French Quarter Flintlock fennec - bacon, fried okra, and burnt thermochromic alcohol Baffle - cocoa powder, giraffes, and vanilla wafers

Ada, the smallest and definitely weirdest model

Bath Roll - Three donuts melted hot on one side Friar Flats - Topped with tomatoes, honey, red paint and ceramic chili caps Ponder Owls - magical, yellow-feathered donuts covered in icing with puffiness and shine By Soul - filled with firecrackers, black bean dip, red pepper syrup, and watermelon Coconut Fun - Sulphure hasn’t been wiped off, a demon cake filled with coconut cream and pistachios Blood Donut - Creamy moist donut topped with spoonfuls of delicious blood Goofy Trick - the elephant, is a clown and it's all about tossing treats into his skull Spankin’ - Other-colored donut with a frying pan in the middle

Bonus content: More of Ada's weird donuts (plus some donuts made of antimatter??)

Also you can buy the donuts on a tea towel! Along with pies, cookies, and breakfast cereals.

[thinkingimages]

Mamuka Japharidze. St. Sebastian. Performance, Tbilisi History Museum, Georgia, 1992

In December 1992, 10th Floor and Marjanishvilebi member Mamuka Japharidze (born 1962) performed at the Tbilisi History Museum as St. Sebastian. Covered in white chalk and tied with rope to a pillar, the artist presented himself to the public as a sculpture of the Roman saint. Although St. Sebastian is considered the patron saint of homosexuality, Mamuka used the religious figure to reference the chaos of the Georgian civil war. In religious iconography, St. Sebastian is depicted pierced by the arrows of a Roman legionnaire, rendering the viewer—who is in the position of an archer—the unconscious executioner.6 By inviting the audience to look at both him and each other, Japharidze addressed the interaction between victim and abuser. After a thirty-minute performance in a semi-derelict space on a freezing cold day, the artist walked to the old Roman Sulphur Baths to wash himself clean. With references to the torturous nature of war, he also played with words and their meaning: in Georgian, romelia translates as “who is” and “Roman.”

https://post.moma.org/an-underground-bridge-to-georgian-collectiveness-finding-a-tribe-through-collective-trauma/

[tarithenurse]

The Bathhouse

Fandom: MCU (AU) Pairing/starring: Jotun!Loki x Fem!Jotun!reader Content: Non-gender-segregated bathhouse, a bit of fluff and pining, smut, a smidgen of female heat, loss of virginity, naivety, mostly some sort of smut (though not P-in-V...this time). A/N: So this is actually from something else I’m working on just for myself but it had vibes that I thought I could use for some fun with Loki. Betaed by the lovely TanteFrutsel-CreativeNurse!

The Bathhouse

It has been a long day and you’re tired but even so you sneak past your friends’ doors at the inn and make your way down the stairs where the innkeeper is sitting with his book. A sideways glance reveals that it’s a volume of “Tusk Love” which you’ve never heard of.

Out onto the street and past the darkening homes, you can’t help but clutch at the concealed daggers although you feel surprisingly at home here in Utgarde. It’s just...it’s a new place and recent events have grown deep roots. It doesn’t make it easier that you feel like a stranger in your own body what with the delicate changes of the heat.

Living as long as Jötunn do, nature has decided to play a cruel trick on the females and only allow them to be fertile once every century... the heat, as this period is called, lasts for at least half a year in which they have to deal with several physical changes.

Reaching the bathhouse, the place looks closed and you are dubious when you push on the door but it swings inwards, allowing you entry to the antechamber with the reception where a flustered matron stands, wringing her hands and with curlers in the hair as though she’s been roused from bed and barely had time to dress.

“I’m terribly sorry,” she snips, “but we’re closed.”

“I was told to come.”

Before you can give more of an explanation a voice comes from the beyond the arches where the springs are: “She’s here on my behest.”

You continue into the changing area with the woman trailing behind, complaining quietly.

“Now leave us, please.” Loki sounds bored but authoritative, stirring something in you. It could be his demeanour or his rank, either way the matron leaves, pointing at a stack of towels on her way out.

The changing room has a series of smaller cubicles for private disrobing as well as a low bench snaking through the area. On the one end closest to the bath is a bunch of familiar clothes folded neatly and with a set of daggers lying on top.

Undressing, you discard your own weapons too although a knot forms in the belly at the idea of being unarmed. Then you grab a towel and wrap it around your torso before proceeding past the archway.

There’s a lot more steam than during the daytime when you would normally visit as though the springs run hotter at night. The sulphuric scent mingles with that of sweet incense burning in a pot to the side. That wasn’t there last time. Loki is resting in his true form in the water at the far side of the pool, facing the entry directly, and he lifts a dripping and muscular arm to wave at the newcomer.

“I wasn’t sure you’d come,” he admits.

And I’m not sure I should stay, you think. Still, you step forward, stepping into the bath wearing nothing but a short swath of fabric that you find entirely inadequate in spite of Jötunn traditions but at least it covers the most important bits. Loki isn’t shy to look, his red gaze travelling your form before meeting your own faintly glowing eyes and remaining there until you’re sat down, towel soaking up the water, making it cling to your body.

You sigh. The hot spring really lives up to its name. With eyes closed you dip down below the surface to wet your hair.

Upon resurfacing, you keep your eyes shut as you wipe the water from your face. “Now tell me...what brings me here?” you shrug blindly, unsure of what else to say but it turns out any more sentences probably wouldn’t have made it past your lips as the god cups your face with a hand and kisses your softly.

*SLAP*

It’s a knee-jerk reaction, caused more by bafflement than anger or fear and the moment your palm impacts with his cheek, you regrets it.

“Sorry!” you blurt simultaneously, leaving the other gaping.

You have rarely been the type that dreamed about kissing etc but this development is very far from anything you could have ever imagined. Shifting uncomfortably where you sit, you glance over at your friend and find that he has moved away and turned his back to you completely, fingers gripping the black tresses tightly.

“Please forgive me, I’m so sorry. I’m sorry,” he repeats under his breath.

As he mutters, you get up and slowly moves over, stretching out a hand to settle on his shoulder which makes him freeze under the touch. “No...I shouldn’t have...you just surprised me, is all.”

Turning and grabbing your hand as it falls, there’s a desperation in the god’s eyes that you don’t understand but you find nothing threatening there and so don’t back away when he closes the distance one careful step at a time.

He breathes heavily, hungrily. “I should leave.”

“Oh alright...but why?”

“It’s your...your scent...it changes when you’re in heat,” he grits out but stays put, still clutching your hand.

Holding your breath as if that could help, you consider everything you know about the nature of the heat you’re going through but you cannot recall anyone ever telling you about this effect.

“Does it...hurt you?” you ask naively.

A shiver passes through Loki from the top of his head and down, carrying with it your gaze which lands on something you have never seen before and you instinctively know that this is not meant for you to gaze upon. Snapping your eyes shut, warmth rising to your face, all the awkward lessons at school come rushing into your mind although they are coloured by something new now. Curiosity. Desire. Something within you is calling back, responding to the god’s desperation.

“No,” he chuckles darkly, “you’re are absolutely not hurting me...far from.”

“Then...is there anything I can do?”

“Tell me to leave.”

“And if I don’t?”

Loki closes his eyes for a second and shakes his head so slightly you almost miss it. When he opens them again he looks at you and asks,“Let me kiss you one last time?”

You have barely nodded before his mouth is upon you, stealing a kiss and your breath. Strong hands cup your face, tilting your head gently to allow him better access as his tongue sweeps the seam of your lips which automatically part.

After a second of flailing, you grab hold of him, pulling you closer together in spite of the prodding to your lower abdomen. You need the support or you would lose all sense of balance, of up and down...but soon enough your hands begin to wander, skating over his broad shoulders and down his back, teasing a new ripple to be released and pucker the blue skin under which his muscles bunch taut as if he’s restraining himself physically.

Then, just as sudden as he’d begun, Loki releases you and steps back several paces, leaving you with your arms stretched out before you, trying to reach him.

Something more than blood is coursing through your veins, throbbing at your core. You don’t quite understand it but you know one thing: you want more.

“[Y/N],” he gasps for breath, “this isn’t what I had planned.”

“I believe you.”

You move up to him once more and this time you’re the one to glide a hand around his neck, pulling him down for a new kiss which he gladly gives into for a moment before lifting his head up against your grip with a soft groan.

“Are you sure?”

“Shouldn’t I be the one to ask you that?” you mumble against his lips.

The strong Jotunn guides you to the edge of the pool, carefully removing the towel and lifting you up until you’re seated on the edge. “I could never regret you.” A perfect hand pushes against your sternum, slowly driving you onto your back while he slots his hips between your knees. “I know I cannot...but let me give you this instead...” Before you can ask what he means by that, he shushes you.

His grip is light enough that you could resist it when Loki pushes your legs apart, revealing your most intimates. Watching between the slopes of your breasts, you see him lick his lips before lowering himself to deliver a kitten lick to the sensitive folds.

You’ve never touched yourself there save for the practicality of cleaning. Nothing could have prepared you for the odd, delicate sensation of the increasingly dedicated strokes of the god’s tongue – sometimes broad, caressing all of your core at once, and sometimes pointed and directed to the bundle of nerves at the very front. It catches you off guard when your pelvis begins to rise on its own accord from the floor as an intensity builds within you. Loki grabs your hips, holding them in place and you can feel his smile against the puffy, lower lips.

“Loki, I...” you moan without really knowing what you want to say.

You’re on the verge of something new and you want him to bring you there despite the trepidation for this unknown.

Releasing your pearl with a soft pop, he smiles up at you with a glistening mouth. “It’s alright, I got you,” and with that he returns to the ministrations.

It comes as a rush, crashing through your body in waves until you’re a moaning and writhing mess. Fingers claw for anything to hold on to, finding only his hair as your back arches off the cool stone floor. Again and again you mewl his name.

Slowly, lapping at your core lazily, he helps bring you down from this new high until you can finally breathe evenly again.

“Fucking hell,” you sigh, staring up at the ceiling while still quivering.

A strangled grunt from Loki makes you look for him: his fist is holding onto his shaft, pumping it and drawing your curiosity despite feeling abashed at that and what has just transpired.

“Please...touch your breasts for me,” Loki pleads and you obey without hesitation.

Testing at first, you quickly find that the nipples are overly sensitive, sending goosebumps down your body when you roll them between the fingers. You also cup the breasts fully, squeezing them and for the first time in your life admiring their form.

“Just like that,” he groans, hand moving more furiously.

A curiosity strikes you and you slip a hand between your legs, tracing the wetness there until you hone in on the clit which makes you shudder. Hesitantly at first but then with greater need, you begin to rub small circles onto the sensitive spot, encouraged by the words of praise that Loki showers you with until he suddenly growls your name and stutters, pearly white leaking between his fingers as his head falls back.

In that moment, he’s the most beautiful you’ve ever seen: fragile yet strong and so incredibly sensual with parted lips.

He sinks to his knees and you slip into the water in alarm, catching him in your arms and relishing in the nearness of him. It takes a moment before you realize that he’s talking to you, slurring his words slightly because his lips are pressed to your blue skin.

“...not what I planned. I wanted to court you first. To bring you to my favourite places or learn of yours, wine and dine...treat you like you deserve.”

You’re stunned at the revelation but manage to gather you wits. “There’s still time for that.”

Loki’s hands find your waist, thumbs running circles below the ribs and causing you to shiver especially when he adjusts the grip so he can graze the bottom of your breasts. Slowly but surely his attention is diverted, split between fondling them and your ass.

“For so long,” Loki confesses, “I’ve been admiring you from afar.” His fingers slide along your hipbone, tracing the vee until delving between your still slick folds, making you whimper.

He turns you around, sitting you between his legs so you can feel the half-erect cock against your back as you lean against his chest. Long arms cage you in, holding you securely but gently as he continues the circular movements you yourself had initiated earlier.

“I don’t have words to explain why I love you,” the god whispers hoarsely in your ear, “but please let me try to show you.”

You nod mutely, breath already uneven as heat pools in your core.

It takes little time before he has reignited the burning ecstasy within you and you tumble over this strange precipice once more, calling out his name on ragged puffs of air.

This time, Loki simply holds you as you descend from the high, rocking you gently and whispering sweet nothings to you that make your heart swell with the knowledge that he loves you.

[inq-tav]

Mother Superior’s Final Attempt (One-Shot)

Oneshot Description: Mother Superior is desperate to get “god’s favorite princess” back into Shar’s clutches

authors note: This is my first attempt of a oneshot, please be kind if your going to comment any feedback, I am a human just like you. Im just looking to improve my writing skills and have fun!

-This is a long one, let me know if you want me to keep writing other one shots of my Paladin Artemis and Shadowheart. Here you go @iomlangealai

Shadowheart’s POV

May our mother bathe us in her light. For I am a child of the Moon, ever glistening and ever in awe of her glory. Moonmaiden, I ask that you watch over us all, watch over my lover Artemis and may-

My prayer is interrupted by a cold, insistent nose poking my arm. I look up and I see Scratch holding his ball, hoping that I will play with him. Smiling, I take it from him mouth and I throw it across the camp, happily he goes and retrieves it. On his way back a whistle interrupts the air, it sounds like my love’s whistle. “Scratch, she’s praying, leave the pretty woman be,” Artemis chides gently as she makes her way over to me, she has replaced her usual armour for her camp clothing, she looks positively light and carefree, even if it is only momentary. I smile up at her as I move to stand, she helps me up, ever the gentleman, “Why help lover,” I greet, smiling, I give her a peck. “Hello yourself my darling. I have our bedrolls all ready for bed, the camp chores are done, and the dishes are washed, all that's left is for me to steal you away from this ladykiller.” She says teasingly to Scratch who just gives a gentle bark. I laugh, “Well perhaps you should just whisk me away before someone else does,” I tease and she just gives me a fake gasp of shock, I circle around her and I hug her from behind, resting my face on her warm back. I feel her relax, “C’mon love, lets get some rest, we need all the rest we can get before we infiltrate the Cloister.” I whisper, gently taking her hand and guiding us to out bedrolls. Once we climb inside our shared bed, I wriggle into Artemis’s strong arms, and fall into a quick easy sleep.

————————————-

Loud noises cloud my hearing; it wakes my brain up but my eyelids are as heavy as metal and I smell the uncanny stench of smoke and sulphur. Metal clashing on metal makes my ears ring, I cannot move. I cannot feel the warmth of my lover. Any control if my limbs is out of reach; distant. I feel like a thought, light and afloat; a mere breeze could whisk me away. But there’s nothing light about this, and for this I am sure. An agonized scream of a woman rips through the air as the sound of metal clashes against something; it sounds like Artemis, and panic sets in, but here I am still, trapped in my own dark space of thoughts, without sight and without body. I feel the breeze on my face and the rhythmic feel of a gallop, I must be leaving camp. But these thoughts are almost gone for good, for the sounds around me blur into a flatline of nothing.

—————————————

The jolt of cold water splashing on me is what wakes me up; the dim light of candles invades my pupils as they struggle to adjust, my mind racing as the water sends every nerve to awaken because of its frigidity. I cannot move again, but slowly I realize that I am starfished on a wooden table that’s slanted upwards so I can see the whole room, my arms being held down by leather straps. In a flash I recognize this room, I used to use this very method. A sinking feeling settles in the pit of my stomach, I was taken. I was taken just like when I was a child. The memory of the sounds I heard before.. they invade my memories. Instantly, a face comes into view, a masked face I used to love and look up to, but now I look upon Her with resentment: Mother Superior. “God’s favorite princess awakens,” She says, voice low and scarily calm. “You, you took me!” I say angrily, struggling against my bonds. She makes her way to the table I am strapped to, taking her time as her eyes rake over me. She takes an extra second to look at my white hair. She tsks, “My my child, I must admit I am a little in awe. It is rare to see gods fight over a mere mortal, but here we are. A mortal who Shar and Selûne bicker and play tug of war with, a mortal who betrayed a god just to go to the sister. I wonder what makes you so special.” She says a hint of jealousy in her voice, circling the table like a predator toying with its prey. I writhe against my shackles, to no avail. “I know who you are, Viconia DeVir. You don’t hold any power over me anymore.” I say as I watch her freeze, she takes off her mask and I see her face for the first time in a long time. “You remember, no doubt the Moonmaiden’s daughter told you my true identity.” She says with disgust, I just shake my head, “Noblestalk. And I am starting to piece together my past. The Moonmaiden has helped me, loves me, better than Shar ever did,” I say angrily, “You stole forty years of my life, but no more. I am no longer craving your acceptance, you can keep your Dark Lady, your secrets, but this life is mine!” I continue, watching her look uninterested in my words, it makes me angry, livid even. “They’ll kill you; the entire camp knows you’ve taken me. Artemis especially, she’s killed two of the Chosen of the Dead

Three, she’s killed a devil in his own home. And now you’ve taken me, you must really want to die,” I threaten, narrowing my eyes at her, she just simply smiles, “My child, don’t you know who I am? I can manipulate memories in my own accord; I can make you forget her. Fear her. Hate her.” That makes my face drop and my skin crawl, “With a simple chant of 5 words I can change all of that in an instant, I already did it once with your fear of wolves, I made you fear your own father. What makes you think I won’t do it again here? It’d be most fun watching them struggle to get you, only for you to not know who they are, to hate them, maybe I’ll make you love someone else. Then how would your dear little Artemis feel?” She taunts, the sinking feeling in my stomach rises to my throat, “After all, how do you know if she’s still alive?” She says, getting dangerously close to my face and I think back to that scream I heard in my brain fog, I struggle against my binding again. “What did you do to her!” I scream, enraged as I watch her lean back and laugh.

I am about to speak again, but shouting is heard distantly and the door slams open, one of Viconia’s Lieutenant’s barges in “Mother Superior, pardon the intrusion.. They’re here.” He says before running back out, and instantly I know who he is talking about. A loud sound, similar to thunder crashes down and roars in the main chamber, its a little ways away so I am shocked that it was still so loud even in here. “I told you, I was not bluffing. You are about to feel the wrath of everyone you had attacked in my camp,” I say smugly, watching her face grow red with anger. “You insolent child! I have had enough, you could’ve been perfect. Shar said you were the one to surpass even me! But you have turned your back on us,” She says, slapping me in the face so hard it leaves me dazed, I groan. “You had one job! It was to retrieve the artefact,” Another slap, it makes my eyes water and nose bleed, “And you don’t even have it!” She yells, looming over me with a dagger, “I do have it, I’ve hidden it. I hide it every night, you’ll never find it!” I yell in protest as she drags the knife tauntingly down my arms, lightly piercing the skin, I wince. That’s a lie, I don’t hide it as well as I should, but doesn’t need to know that Scratch sleeps curled around it. “Prepare to get your memories wiped again, and this time, you’re going to forget that annoyance of a woman you seem to love so much, your going to forget everything,” She says, chanting the words and her eyes glow, I writhe against my restraints and as she is about to touch my head to wipe my memories away once again, she’s hit in the back with a glaive I’ve spent the past few months cleaning and polishing; its Artemis. Well, its everyone. Everyone is here to save me. Through the chaos I see my shining paladin of vengeance, smiting Viconia with a fiendish and enraged look in her eyes I’ve never seen before. The others stand guard and watch, some in horror and some enthralled to see Artemis wreak havoc upon Viconia. Scarily, Artemis’ glaive glows with a moonbean and she is seconds away from smiting Viconia one final time, but its Aylin that holds her back from killing Viconia completely, “The Moonmaiden will claim her, and have her to rot for centuries on end. Go to your beloved,” She says in her usual ‘Aylin’ way, tears start to fall, the adrenaline of not knowing if I was going to live or die wearing off, and in an instant I am surrounded by Artemis, she hurriedly unshackles me and pulls me right into her embrace. “Oh my darling, are you alright? Are you hurt? Your lover is here, your safe with me again,” She says, holding me tight and scanning my body for serious injuries. I look at her, look at everyone, their faces scared for me, even Lae’zel. I sniffle, overwhelmed by it all, I cover my face and try to calm down. Artemis just hold me, but one by one my companions.. my family, move to comfort me. “You are safe once more my cub, you will now not be allowed out of my sights for long,” Jaheira says as she passes by, squeezing my shoulder, I look up and smile, “Jaheira is right, Boo and I will continue to grab evil by the buttocks for you!” Minsc says, earning a squeak from Boo, I give a watery laugh and wipe my tears away, “You are my fellow soldier, my friend, I would search Avernus for you,” Karlach adds, earning a hum of approval from Astarion, “These wretches have taken enough from you and I. You helped me kill Cazador, my demons, its about time I help you kill yours.” He smirks, licking his lips from (probably) feasting on their blood. “Astarion is right Shadowheart, you are a formidable ally, we would be foolish to let you get gutted.” Lae’zel speaks, earning a genuine smile from me. She just raises an eyebrow and dismisses me with her hand but I see a hint of a smile. Wyll and Gale nod, both casting healing spells on me, after they say their own words the whole group mentions that they'll meet us at camp.

All who’s left is Artemis and I, she looks at me anxiously, “I thought..” She begins, tears welling up in her eyes, “I thought I lost you, Shadowheart. I woke up to Viconia and her cultists holding a knife to my throat, my arms down and she drugs you with a paralytic poison. I watched her take you from me. And she almost did, permanently.” She says crying, I hold her face and bring her lips to mine, they taste salty from her tears but I dont care, “I thought I lost you, my brave Artemis, I heard your screams.. I, she said she killed you.” I say softly, tears falling down my own face now, she takes her leather gloved hands and wipes them away, “I almost did, it took 4 men to hold me down as she took you away on horseback. Aylin helped me get free. But one guy really got me good, it left a nasty scar on my chest” She says, shuddering at the memory. I just hug her again, pressing my ear to her beating heart, “She almost made me forget you..” I whisper, closing my eyes and relishing in her embrace. She just tightens her grip on me, “The Moonmaiden would restore your memories, I am sure of it. Aylin and I would never allow that to happen. I would go to the Moon herself and beg her for all eternity.” She says with finality, oh my sweet little paladin. For a little we just stay like this, in each others embrace, silently processing and remembering that the other is okay. Artemis is the first to break the silence, “Come, lets go back to our makeshift home, where we belong.” She says softly, smiling, taking my hand. I beam at her and follow, walking hand in hand in the streets of the lower city. I know that these days ahead will be hard for Artemis and I, after all we have endured. But We will be okay, we have each other to rely one. Once we make it back I am joyously greeted by my friends, and for the first time in a long time, I feel like I am home.

[blueiskewl]

2,000-Year-Old Roman Villa Discovered in Naples

A three-year project to build a children’s playground and recreation area south of the Italian city of Naples has unearthed the ruins of a 2,000-year-old clifftop beach house.

Built in the first century, the panoramic mansion — which overlooks the islands of Ischia and Procida — is now partly flooded by the sea. Experts believe it could have once been the opulent residence of Pliny the Elder, the legendary author, naturalist, and commander of the Roman navy fleet stationed there.

The discovery, made last week in the coastal town of Bacoli, unearthed the thick perimeter stone walls of 10 large rooms with floors, tiled walls and a maze of intact panoramic outdoor terraces.

Back in the first century, the mansion would have been located within the Roman port at Misenum, where for four centuries a fleet of 70 ships controlled the Tyrrhenian Sea, the security of which was key to holding the western flank of the Roman empire.

“It is likely that the majestic villa had a 360-degree view of the gulf of Naples for strategic military purposes,” Simona Formola, lead archaeologist at Naples’ art heritage, said in an interview. “We think (the excavation of) deeper layers could reveal more rooms and even frescoes — potentially also precious findings.”

Authorities were surprised by the elaborate style of the walls, which were constructed with diamond-shaped tufa (limestone) blocks placed in a net-like ornamental pattern about 70 centimeters (27.5 inches) below ground.

The villa runs down to a little crumbling stone dock now located about four meters below sea level. That this — and other parts of the unearthed villa — are now underwater is due to the phenomenon of “negative bradyseism,” a term used to describe the gradual descent of the earth’s surface into the sea in areas exposed to frequent volcanic activity. (The area borders a moon-shaped “caldera” or extinct volcanic crater).

Digs will continue in coming months, with authorities hoping to shed further light on not only the form of the beach villa itself, but the broader life and structure of Misenum, one of the most important colonies in the Roman Empire.

“The discovery is even more exceptional given that we know very little (about) the port of Misenum,” said Formola.

As well as acting as a lookout point, Pliny’s beach villa would have also likely been used for leisure. The private dock was where he would greet high-ranking guests arriving by sea for lavish parties. Many Ancient Romans used to flock to Bacoli and the surrounding area, to enjoy their vacation homes and the region’s thermal baths and spa retreats.

Bacoli is located within the so-called “Phlegraean Fields” (or “Fire Plains”), which are dotted with natural geysers and tiny active craters where there are still frequent earthquakes. Due to its blazes and sulphureous vapors, the ancients believed it to be the entrance to the underworld and had dubbed it “the Mouth of Hell.” Indeed it’s possible that Pliny the Elder would have witnessed the eruption of Mount Vesuvius in AD 79 from the villa. It is known he died trying to rescue those fleeing the calamity.

While archaeologists were reportedly surprised by the finding, local lore had long speculated on the existence of an underground treasure in this location. On the beach neighboring the newly-discovered villa walls, a large brick ruin had been dubbed the “talking wall” by local residents as, in their view, it proved the one-time existence of a large residence.

The site will now become an open-air museum, set to open in the coming weeks. “The ruins of the Roman villa will be cleaned and cordoned-off with wooden fences,” said Bacoli’s mayor Josi Gerardo Della Ragione. “They will be the core of this beautiful space which… our citizens and visitors will get to admire.”

By Silvia Marchetti.

[aziraphales-library]

Hi. Someone reccommended I send it to you. Can you help with this? I would be forever thankfull! "I am looking for a fic in which after going out of a big city and cleaning himself in a river, Crowley realizes that the bad smell in his skin is not the city sewages but himself. He then goes and goes about bathing in perfume across the ages, only to run out of each just before a date with Aziraphale. The angel, of course, does not mind and assures hin that the doesn't smell like sulfur and stuff, just like Crowley." I am pretty sure I read it once in Ao3 but what I can remenber os phrases and tags had not been helpful so far...

Hello. I believe you're looking for...

Through the smoke of you by TheGD (G)

In 17th century Versailles, Crowley becomes self-conscious about his own sulphuric smell. He attempts to mask it with perfume, thinking that Aziraphale probably finds him disgusting. A bottle of perfume runs out, a book is lost and found, palms are kissed and romance ensues.

- Mod D

[flyingraijin]

motive (you treat me like gold) | K. Hatake

Summary: Five times you leave Kakashi helplessly flustered and the one time he's able to get back at you for it.

Warnings: 5+1 trope, fluff, humour, awkward sexual situations, dry humping, cunnilingus, vaginal fingering, creampie

Word Count: 18 986

Available on AO3 here

Note: I finally wrote something for Kakashi, yeeeeee!!!

Kakashi can't quite decide whether this is a good idea or a very very bad one. 

He supposes that a case could be made for either side - not the best odds in his personal opinion, but he'll also be the first to admit that he's never been the most fussy about that sort of thing. 

It's supposed to be a relaxing trip, this whole thing. A lot of Shinobi do it - take a short detour on their way back to Konoha after they complete a mission, to visit a tiny little town that's only about half a days walk off course. There are hot springs all over the place but this town has the best of them and Kakashi would have to agree that sinking into scalding water after days or even weeks of living on the road is about as close to heaven as one could get. The mission he'd been on this time, along with Team 7, was grueling to say the least. Hours upon hours of fighting and very little sleep had left all their bones feeling achey and sore. Naruto in particular had ended up with a bruise about the size of a large ramen bowl on his upper back, and he'd complained loudly about it the entire walk back. That was part of the reason why Kakashi had decided to bring them here - the water of the onsen was said to have healing properties and while Kakashi wasn't quite sure he believed that , he could admit that a nice warm bath would make them all feel better. 

He hasn't expected it to be quite so crowded however. 

As it turned out, Team 7 wasn't the only one on a difficult mission. Kakashi's blood had run cold when he'd stepped into the all-male bathing area only to have his ears violently bombarded with a loud yellow of "Kakashi!" in an all too familiar and enthusiastic voice. It was also around that time that Rock Lee - wearing only a very precariously wrapped towel - had tackled Naruto, and Akamaru - why was the dog allowed in the bath? - had started barking. And Kakashi had retreated without even getting into the water because after being with his three little monsters for almost three weeks stright, he had a feeling his brain might melt out of his ears if he was subjected to any more chaos. 

The blessing about this bath house in particular was the fact that it had three different baths. A males only, a females only and a mixed area. Usually Kakashi would avoid the mixed baths if he could, primarily because most of the time they were filled with creeping perverts like Jiraiya, and Kakashi didn't want to be associated with anyone of that calibre, thanks. But right then, as he could hear the yelling and splashing from the all-male onsen even through the dividing wall, he figured he'd take whatever the mixed bath could throw at him over being drowned in sulphur water by Guy.

Mercifully, when Kakashi arrived in the mixed bathing area, it was blessedly empty. And he was able to sink down into the steaming water right up to his eyes and say his thanks to the gods that mixed bathes were invented in the first place. 

That is until he was faced with the possibility that someone might have the same idea as him and come to disturb his peace. Cue the ultimate dilemma. 

It's becauee of this that Kakashi finds himself watching the entrance to the mixed onset like a hawk, his face still half submerged in the water and his body far too tense for someone taking a bath. 

He supposes that if a total stranger walks in, it would be okay. Unfortunately, he also knows that with so many people he knows wandering around, the chances that it will be a complete stranger are slim to none.  

For a long time he just sits, watching the doorway with sharp eyes - or eye , since he keeps his left eyelid tight shut - and keeping his senses alert to the approach of any chakra presences. Ands for a long time he feels and sees nothing. It's around ten minutes later when something happens and it has Kakashi's heart sinking in his chest. 

The doorframe creaks just a little as the door slides open, and Kakashi's pulse leaps into his throat as a pair of legs appear. He knows that chakra signature, just like he knows those calf muscles. And if he's honest, it's probably the very last person in the whole world he'd want to see here. 

You freeze up the moment you notice him, your eyes wide and your fingers tightening around the towel that you - thank the gods for Kakashi's sake - have wrapped around your waist. 

"Oh crap." 

Kakashi blinks, staring blankly for a second. And then, very hastily, he drops his eyes. His cheeks are uncomfortable warm.

What's even worse is the fact that you seem just as flustered. Which upsets Kakashi because you don't usually get flustered about anything. He had basically grown up with you after all, considering your relation to his former sensei, and he'd truly believed you could be confident in the face of anything. You'd even appeared stark naked in front of him a few times for gods know what reason, and even then you'd kept your dignity. 

Now though, Kakashi can watch in real time as your face crumples and your posture turns reserved and self-conscious. You can't really even look at his face as you sink into your towel. 

"I…" you stumble out, "I'm sorry, I didn't know there was someone in here." 

Kakashi gulps, clears his throat. Then he says, "Don't worry about it." 

"I wanted somewhere quiet," you explain to him, shifting your weight from foot to foot. "Anko got kind of drunk and I was worried she was going to smother me in her… yeah. But I can leave if you want to be alone!" 

You're already turning to go and Kakashi feels his stomach do a flip when he catches a glimpse of the contours of your shoulder blades - shoulder blades, really? - but he's quick to call you back anyway, immediately feeling guilty. 

(He also doesn't want to admit but he likes the idea of having you around, even in his embarrassing state of undress) 

"It's alright, you can stay if you want," he tells you earnestly. "I don't mind. And I think… it'd be nice to have someone to talk to anyway."

You give him an almost skeptical look but don't turn away any further. "Well, if you're comfortable…" you say awkwardly after a second. "I'll, uh, keep my towel on though." 

Kakashi turns pink - even pinker than the steaming bathwater had made him - and has to resist the urge to duck his head underwater. "That's fine," he tells you, his voice just a tad weak and squeaky. 

You nod at him and then step forward, and oh gods, Kakashi realises then and there how screwed he is. He doesn't want to look, he shouldn't even feel the desire to look. He reads so much smut on a day-to-day basis that he should be entirely immune to this sort of thing by now. And yet, he can't help but watch, can't help but let his eyes wander as you reach the edge of the pool. His gaze travels up your bare leg as you stretch it out to drop your foot down into the steaming water. Your skin is already dewy with moisture in a way that makes Kakashi's heart beat at least three times as fast as normal. And then it almost stops when, as you go to step your other foot into the bath, your short towel rides up just the tiniest bit and he catches a glimpse of the glowing skin of your upper thigh. 

Kakashi's not a virgin. He's not. Bur he absolutely feels like one as he has to adjust himself and very pointedly stare down at the steaming water to stop his entire body from buffering as you slip down into the bath up until your chest. 

It probably wouldn't be like this if it was any of the other women in his life. Anko, Kurenai, Shizune or even the great Lady Tsunade herself, who is arguably one if the most beautiful women in the whole of Konohagakure. All of them, he'd be just fine with. But, so very unfortunately, it's not them, it's you . And it just so happens that Kakashi has had the biggest crush on you since the pair of you had ended up in ANBU together when you were teenagers. 

Maybe looking at her face will be better, Kakashi thinks to himself as he shifts his legs where he's sitting, trying desperately to dissuade that thing which is growing stiff between his thighs. Yes, that will definitely be better. 

Only it's very much not better. When Kakashi manages to persuade his eyes to lift again and turns his focus to your face, the thing he very suddenly feels is uncomfortably similar to that of being punched right in the solar plexus. 

There's warmth visible in the deep colours of your cheeks and your lips are just a little swollen from the heat. Moisture has dampened the skin of your face, beading along your temple and only visible for the fact that your hair has been pushed up and away from your skin. A few strands hang down at yours ears, and when you turn your head a little, Kakashi can see there's another curl, dark with water, stuck to the back of your neck. 

It's not an erotic sight, not at all. You're just taking a bath. And yet Kakashi's disgusting, perverted mind can't help but skew the image just a little. He gulps and ducks his head once again as burning heat tickles up his neck. 

Ah, fuck me. 

"I didn't know you were here," you tell him once your back is settled against the opposite side of the bath to him. "I saw Sakura in the other bath. Did you just get done with your mission?" 

Kakashi nods, shifting once again as he desperately tries to conceal his growing arousal. Stop it , he tells himself desperately. If she realises, she'll never speak to you again! 

"We were in the Land of Tea," he says aloud, fighting to keep his voice even. "The mission rang longer than expected so I thought coming here would be a nice treat for the kids. Might stop Naruto from complaining about how I never take them anywhere good." He offers you a weak smile. 

Thankfully, you seem to remain oblivious to his predicament and let out a soft giggle. "I can imagine. I'm sure I heard him talking over the wall actually - something about battle scars?" 

"He got nicked by a kunai on his cheek," Kakashi offers. "It's probably that." 

You snort. "Makes sense." 

"Did you just get back a mission too?" Kakashi asks you then. "I remember you left the village before us." 

You nod as you cup your hands and raise them above the surface of the water, watching the small streams that escape between your fingers. "Yeah. I had an ANBU assignment and then I met up with Anko to go to the Land of Rice Lemons." 

"Ah." Kakashi nods. "Everything went well, then?" 

You shrug one shoulder and Kakashi has to look away from the droplet of water that rolls down the exposed line of your neck. Blood pulses between his legs. 

"For the most part. Although I was the only shinobi able to use medical ninjutsu on the team again, so I had to do a lot of healing. As usual." 

Right. Kakashi forgets sometimes, with how good of a fighter you are, that you also have training as a medical-nin. Not as advanced as Tsunade or Shizune, since it's not your primary area of focus. But good enough to act as an emergency medic on a mission. 

"I can see why you want some time off." 

You smile a little, which makes Kakashi's stomach do a couple of forward flips, and shrug one shoulder. "Yeah. I am used to it. Although, I can't say I'm looking forward to getting home. I don't doubt Lady Hokage will send me off on another mission as soon as I've had my mandatory downtime." 

"Maa, it'll be the same for me I'm sure," Kakashi says, his shoulders drooping just a little as he thinks of the thick stack of mission requests Tsunade will inevitably hand him once he gets back to Konohagakure. "I supposes it just the drill now, with how short on jounin we are." 

"Yeah," you say. Then you give him a long look from beneath your eyelashes - a long look which makes Kakashi shiver inside his skin. And it only solidifies the boner he's got. Gods, he hopes you never figure out what's going on. 

"I'd like it if we got assigned on a joined mission," you tell him then, so plainly he almost doesn't register what you'd said. Your voice is soft, innocent, and it only serves to make Kakashi blush even harder. 

And then, when he actually processes what you've told him, he has to dig his own fingers into the skin of his thigh to suppress the shiver that runs up his spine. You, the shinobi most notorious for swearing off team-ups if you could help it, suppressing an interest in joining him on a mission?

Kakashi isn't sure why but he has a very sudden and very bizarre feeling that he might come right there. 

"Y-yeah, that's be… that's be nice," he squeaks out. "I'd like that." 

You blink languidly, and while it's definitely not on purpose, Kakashi has to forcibly drop his eyes once again. Then he hears your soft laugh. 

"Don't act so shy, Kakashi. We've worked together a lot before. I trust you." 

You shouldn't, Kakashi thinks wildly. Oh gods, you shouldn't. I'm a horrible person. 

"Anyway, I'll ask the Hokage about it when I get back. I'm sure she'll be able to-" 

Only yours words die out when there's a very loud, very bellowy yell of your name from over the fence where, presumably, the all ladies onsen is. You visibly wince. 

"Ah, geez, guess Anko has finally figured out I've escaped." 

"Guess so…" Kakashi says, so desperately trying to seem normal. You let out a long sigh. 

"I suppose I should go wrangle her before she tears this place apart looking for me." And then you stand up and fuck, Kakashi would have liked a warning. 

"It was nice seeing you, Kakashi," you tell him sweetly as you climb out of the bath. Kakashi stares hard at the puddle forming around your feet so he doesn't have to look at the water droplets rolling down you legs. 

"You too," he tells you and he thinks you smile back at him. 

"Bye!" 

Kakashi doesn't relax until you've left the bathing area completely and the door has been slid tightly back into place. It's only then that he releases the sigh he didn't know he was holding. Dejectedly, he slides down in the water until it's almost reaching his eyes. 

I'm an awful human being  is what he thinks to himself sadly. Truly heinous. I'm more of a pervert than Jiraiya could ever be. 

He feels guilty. And embarrassed. And he knows he should completely wipe this whole incident from his mind and forget it ever happened in the first place. 

He knows he should. But he also knows, already, as he sits in the steaming water with bright red cheeks and a raging hard on, that he'll be seeing the image of your dripping wet figure, one hand holding up the soaked towel that's plastered to every curve and contour of your body, and that adorable smile on your face, pasted into the backs of his eyelids for at least the next two weeks.  

Very much to Kakashi's surprise, just over a month after what he's come to call the "onsen incident", that team up mission you'd mentioned actually happens. 

Lady Tsunade doesn't usually take suggestions in terms of the missions she assigns. Personal preference for the involved shinobi is quite far down in the list of factors she deems to consider when handing out work, with things like skill level and expertise, payment, and who was available being seen as far higher priority factors. So Kakashi was very surprised when he was called into the Hokage's office and handed an S-rank mission with you standing right at his elbow. 

"This will probably end up being extremely combat oriented," Tsunade had explained as she'd handed out the mission briefs. "Which is why I've sent you two." But Kakashi hadn't missed the look you'd shared with her, or the tiny smile she'd flashed in your direction. 

Not that he'd minded at all - at least at first. You weren't the only one keen on a team up after all. Since the pair of you had trained so closely, and then worked together in ANBU, your coordination on the battlefield was now like a well-oiled machine. Putting the two of you on any one task was almost a guarenteed success. 

It had left Kakashi in a decidedly good mood during the days leading up to his departure with you. And even during the long trek to the Land of Iron, with the weather turning from warm and balmy to absolutely freezing, he'd had a certain spring in his step. 

He'll admit now though, that his mood has been slightly dampened. He supposes that will happen to you when a group of bow-and-arrow-wieding samurai gang up on you ten to one and send you fleeing through terrain covering in at least a metre's worth of snow. 

Tsunade had said the mission would be combat oriented. But the way Kakashi sees it now, what he's doing isn't so much combat as it is desperately trying not to get killed. 

"Kakashi!" He hears your voice, shrill and alert, from just up ahead of him. You're sprinting, just as he is, through the snow - although he thinks you're decidedly more graceful that he must be. He sees you point off to your right. "If we head for the tree line it will give us some cover! And moving through the branches will be quicker than running like this." 

"Right!" Kakashi yells back, and then quickly moves his head just a little to the side to avoid an arrow that comes shooting past with a zing! In sync, the pair of you make a B line towards the dark splodge that is all you can see of the start of the forest through the falling snow. 

Kakashi dodges another arrow and then ups his speed just a little. His feet crunch hard against the fresh snow, sinking into it just a little too far for his long stride to be as effective as usual. 

"Shit!" 

Kakashi looks forward just fast enough to see an arrow fly right past your face. It nicks across your nose and even catches a few strands of your hair on its way past; slicing right through them with how sharp it is. You stumble just a little, thrown off balance with the unsteady footing and your lightening fast reaction. And that's when Kakashi hears it; the telltale zip of another arrow; one that's heading right towards where your neck will be.

He moves before he can think about it - which is probably stupid on his part. Your reflexes are fast enough that you would have been able to dodge it even without his help. But Kakashi's instincts are too strong - he's seen too many people die in front of him, and while his head knows you'll get out alive, his heart isn't so sure. His step is fast enough that he disappears form visibility for a second, only to reappear once more right in the pathway of the arrow. He has just enough time to turn so he doesn't take it right to the chest, and then he hears you let out a squeak of surprise as the razor sharp tip of the arrow bruises itself neatly into the muscle of his shoulder. 

Kakashi lets put a stifled groan because crap, that really stings. But he only lets himself falter for a second before he grabs your elbow and the pair of you are off again, into the treetops and then shooting off as far away from the samurai archers as you possibly can. 

You only slow down once you're both entirely sure there's no one else around anymore. You alight on the thick branch of a snow covered pine tree and Kakashi does the same on a different tree. For a moment the both of you just stare at each other for a second, breathing hard. And then Kakashi winces. 

Right, he remembers as what feels like liquid fire begins to spread across his shoulder blade. I got shot. 

By the look on you face, it seems you've remembered too. 

"We should make camp here," you tell him, crossing your arms over your chest. "I need to look at that." 

Kakashi hides a pained expression behind his mask. "I'm just fine," he tries to tell you. But you just shake your head at him in response. 

"For all we know, that arrow was poisoned. Plus, your chakra is running low. You've used your raikiri how many times today?" 

Kakashi doesn't have an answer for that because he knows that you're right. So he just lets his shoulders slump - and immediately regrets it because it shifts the arrow in his flesh and sends a new burst of fire through his back - and nods a little dejectedly. You give him a nod of your own, far more confident than he is, and then turn. He watches as you begin the familiar process of setting up camp - littering the clearing with your sealed kunai, making up the beginnings of a small fire, and unrolling your bedroll. It's not snowing in this area, with the pair of you having fled the Land of Iron and put some distance between yourself and the border, however, it's still decidedly chilly. Kakashi can feel the cold starting to set in as he leans down to grab his own bedroll, which is not really a nice feeling at all when paired with the burning from the wound. 

You grab it before he can though, and send him a very stern look as you roll it out for him. Then you point at it in a way that tells Kakashi doing as you instruct is by no means a request but rather an order. 

"Sit." 

Kakashi sits. You kneel down behind him. He feels the shift in the arrowhead as you grasp it around the shaft. 

"I'm going to pull it out," you tell him, "and when I do, you'll need to be quick getting the rest of your clothes off. I'm familiar with the posions the Samurai use and a lot of the time they'd designed to be fast sacting from the moment the source object is removed." 

"Got it," Kakashi mumbles, suddenly feeling distinctly useless. "Clothes off a soon as the arrow is out." 

You flick the back of his head and then let out a soft, amused noise. Kakashi kind of hates how, even with how short and insignificant it is, the sound relaxes him almost completely. "Quit stressing, Lightening Boy," you tell him cheekily. "I'm a great medic. You're in good hands." 

Kakashi doesn't even have time to respond before you wrap your fingers more securely around the arrow and then yank it right out of his shoulder. 

It's like molten rock has been poured across his back and Kakashi finds his eyes watering as a silent gasp of pain leaves him. He pushes through it though, focussing on the instruction you'd given him, and as soon as he sees you set the arrow on the ground out of the corner of his eye, he gets to work stripping. First the long wrap he'd been wearing, then his flak jounin vest. The latter falls to the ground with a somewhat heavy thud and you inspect it gingerly as he wrestles with his shirt. 

"You're gonna need to fix this. It's quite an ugly looking hole." 

Kakashi can only grunt as, finally, he gets his shirt off and ends up sitting in just his very thin undershirt which attaches to his mask. Thankfully, the shirt is cropped enough that it exposes the arrow wound without Kakashi having to take it off. 

For a moment, he thinks he's safe. But then, when he feels you fingers dance across the skin of his back and shouder blade for the first time, he starts to realise that it's quite the opposite in fact. 

Oh gods. 

Your finger tips barely brush his skin, your touch as light as the kiss of a butterflies wing, and yet it does things to Kakashi. Things that are not at all appropriate, given the circumstances. 

He coughs and shifts a bit, trying to draw his legs a little closer. 

"You're lucky," you tell him then, pressing your palm flat to his shoulder blade - Kakashi has to utilise every ounce of his self control to prevent himself from gasping; how can your hand even be that soft???? - while the other hand pokes very gently around the wound. "I'm about ninety nine percent sure what poison this is, and I know I have an antidote for it."

"You do?" Kakashi asks, and immediately regrets it because his voice comes our far weaker than it should. Your fingers are still on his skin, rubbing back and forth, and while it brings some slight pain, the fact that all the nerves in that area are going into overdrive only makes things ten times worse. 

No, Kakashi thinks to himself as his eyes flicker down and he sees something stir in the crotch of his trousers. Oh no. Please not now. 

His body has other plans as blood rushes through his veins, right to the area it really should not be. 

"Let me just…" you mumble slowly, still examining him. Then, thank gods, you turn and take both hand off his back, reaching for the arrow you'd discarded. Kakashi twists his head a little to watch as you touch a finger to the arrow head and then raise it to your tongue, tasting. Immediately you spit, and put the arrow down again. 

"Yeah, it is what I thought it is," you say, reaching under your own robe to rifled through your pack. Once you receive a small jar, you turn back to Kakashi. He looks away as fast as possible. 

"It's a localised poison," you tell him as you uncap the jar and then start touching his back again. Kakashi stifles a whimper. "It's comprised of several reagents which prevent the wound from healing and, if left long enough, disrupt the closest tenketsu points. Without the antidote, you might have lost your ability to use ninjutsu and genjutsu. Lucky for you, I'm here." 

"Lucky," Kakashi creaks, although he's starting to think that maybe that would have been better than this. Your hands are back, now rubbing the antidote into the wound and Kakashi is almost glad for the pain it brings. He doesn't have a pain kink, thank fuck, so the burning sensation that comes from you literally sticking your fingers into the slice in his skin does help to dissolve the arousal bioling in his gut, just a little. 

Unfortunately, it doesn't last long. After a few seconds, you're done with the cool paste and, after putting the lid of the tub back on and safely storing it away once again, you get to the medical ninjutsu. And gods, does that make everything so much worse. 

No one really speaks about how much of an intimate process healing actually is. Kakashi has always thought so, extensively, though he doesn't really mind much with other healers. You, however… 

The thing about medical ninjustsu is that it feels almost like a bath in someone else's chakra. As your hands press gently into his skin and that familiar tingly feeling of the jutsu washes over his shoulder, Kakashi actually has to stop himself from moaning. It's so you , as if a piece of your soul and your essence is permeating his entire being, and it's almost suffocating. But… in a good way. 

Crap, Kakashi thinks to himself. Crap crap crap. His pants are far tighter than they should be. 

"Almost done," you say quietly and your voice is so close that Kakashi does actually shiver. He tries to cover it with an awkward cough but he's sure you notice anyway. Hopefully, you just mistake it for a wince of pain. 

"It won't even leave a scar," you mumble out, sounding pleased with yourself. Playfully, you poke at his other shoulder. "No imperfections on your rock hard muscles, Lightening Boy." 

Kakashi gulps. He's really hoping you're not able to see the his other facet which is currently rock hard. 

"At least we got the mission done," you continue on cheerfully. "Hey, maybe we can even stop by the hot springs on our way back. Like a reward. What d'you-?" 

But Kakashi is busy having war flashbacks to the last time he went to the hot springs, and he can only shake his head with a terrified grunt. 

You give him a curious look and finally, finally, take your hands off him. He twists his head to look at you as you sit back on your haunches. 

"What's wrong?" you ask with furrowed eyebrows. 

Kakashi falters. "O-oh, nothing's wrong," he starts, thankfully regaining some of his cognitive ability. "I just… well there's a new Icha Icha book coming out and I was planning to bug Jiraiya about it a little -" 

Not exactly a total lie but the book is only coming out next month and Kakashi wasn't planning to bug anyone about anything. Thankfully, you seem to buy it anyway because you give him a very flat look. 

"I seriously don't understand what you see in those books," you tell him, disappointed. "Jiraiya-sensei has only ever written one quality piece of literature and that was the book my dad named Naruto after. All the other stuff can be put in a bonfire and burned." 

In Kakashi's personal opinion, he's starting to think you're right. The only explanation he can muster up for his sudden, and incredibly embarrassing, reactions to your person is that those books have messed up his libido somehow. 

"Tell you what," he says as he reaches for his shirt, finally able to put it back on and hide his overly sensitive skin from your magic fingers again. "I'll let you burn them all as soon as we get home. And you can make Jiraiya watch." 

The smile you give him is almost enough to get him hard all over again. 

Kakashi doesn't let you burn the books. 

After the long journey back to Konoha, on which he manages to regain his dignity, he come to the realisation that he was probably out of his mind when he told you such a thing. Hormones and whatnot. There's no way the books are having such an effect on him and so there's no way he'll allow you to get rid of them

Especially not so, right when it's time for his tradition of rereading the entire series to prepare for a new release. 

Thankfully, you seem to forget about what he'd told you upon your arrival back to Konohagakure, with your mind already turned to yet another new task that has arisen. One which has Kakashi significantly intrigued as well. 

As it would seem, during his sensei's absence from the village, Naruto had embarked on extra training with Jiraiya. Since the training period for the third stage of the Chunin exams, your little brother and the legendary sannin have become rather close. Which Kakashi was thrilled about because if he was entirely honest, Jiraiya's style of fighting was a far better fit for Naruto than his own. However, as Naruto explained very loudly and whinily once Kakashi and you saw him at Ichiraku's on the night of your return, Jiraiya had left two days previously to go do some more "stupid pervy research", and had cut the young gennin's training short. 

You had always had a soft spot for Naruto, considering he is your brother - although he's not aware of that or his parentage at all - so you jump at the chance when he practically begs for more help training. And because Kakashi is his sensei, he can't say no to the request either. Thankfully, you're more than happy to take the reins on this one, which kets Kakashi off the hook and allows him to find a nice comfortable patch if grass to sprawl across and read his book while you oversee Naruto's workout. 

He's still working on chakra control, Kakashi notes, although it's more advanced than the exercise with the tree that he'd taught to Team 7 some time ago. Using chakra in the base if the feet to walk in the surface if water as jf jt was solid ground - evidently something Naruto had been working on during his month of training with Jiraiya, however, he obviously hasn't mastered it in full just yet. The walking part maybe, but now as the pair of your stand atop the surface of a slow moving stream and prepare to spar each other, Kakashi notices that Naruto is still distinctly wobbly on his feet. 

You stand opposite the little blonde boy, with your hands on your hips and a smirk on your face. Your eyes are bright with excitement, though your gaze remains keen and sharp, and that's all Kakashi can really say because he's trying very very hard to look only at your face and nothing else 

See, the issue is, with the both of you working on, and in Naruto's case in,  the water, you'd had the foresight to suggest training in bathing suits. Which made a lot of sense and was a very smart idea. Only now it means Kakashi is once again subjected to the sight of your almost naked figure, even less covered this time round and demonstrating the full glory of what it means to be a highly skilled jounin. 

You're also dropping wet, something Kakashi has already established to be a weakness of his. 

"Alright, Naruto," you say brightly, pointing a finger at the short boy. "Come at me with everything you've got." 

Naruto wobbles a little bit, and then grins. "Gotcha, scary lady. Here I goooo!" He puts his hands together to make the hand sign for the shadow clone jutsu and promptly falls right through the surface of the water. Your throw you head back and laugh loudly as he splutters. 

Kakashi would laugh too if he wasn't so busy noticing the line of you neck. When he realises what's he's doing, he's almost tempted to hit himself in the face with his Icha Icha novel. 

Stop it, there is a child present! 

"You've gotta stay focused," you say to Naruto once he's clambered back up to stand on top of the river again. 

"But I was focussing!" he complains. You shake your head at him. 

"You've gotta be able to focus on two different chakra controls at once if you want to do any ninjustu while standing in the water. But the shadow clone jutsu is even more difficult because you're splitting your chakra." 

When Naruto looks confused, you sigh. "Here, I'll demonstrate." 

Then you form your own hand sign and immediately, several shadow clones appear on the surface of the water around you, all perfectly balance, all staring at Naruto expectantly. 

And all, to poor Kakashi's unfortunate horror, wearing the same sexy white bikini that you've got on. 

His vision is suddenly overwhelmed with the sight of your dewy, wet skin and damp hair, visible to him now from all angles. Your shadows clones are all perfectly replicas of you, down the the freckles on your skin and Kakashi… oh, Kakashi feels like he's drowning, just a little bit. 

Has her spine always curved like that? he thinks to himself wildly as he watches the line of jt bend as you explain something to Naruto. Another one of your clones flickers hair from her shoulder and he's subject to the way the muscles in your shoulder blade move with your arm. Is her skin always that smooth looking? 

I'd like to touch it.

Kakashi's eyes widen and he does smack himself in the face with his book then. No! He yells at himself. Don't think like that. She's an old friend and she doesn't see you that way, so don't be a creep! 

Still, he can't drag his eyes away as you let your clones dissolve and then start to fight with Naruto head in, no ninjistu this time, just taijutsu. The way your muscles ripple under your skin with each movement, the flow there is to your body, the fluidity that comes with fighting - all things Kakashi had always admired about you but now they're amplified by how little clothing you're wearing. He can see exactly what movements you're making now, can see the power behind each kick or punch with the way your joints flex and your muscles bunch and release. And unfortunately because he's a sick, sick man, Kakashi's mind take those images and applies them to different scenarios. 

How your body would move as you writh under him. How your muscles would tense as he teased you within inches of an orgasm. How you'd throw your head back and he'd get to kiss down the line of your neck as you came. 

I want to die, Kakashi thinks dejectedly to himself as he forces his eyes back to the page of the book in front of him. I deserve to die. 

"Hey, Kakashi-sensei! Watch this!" 

Kakashi can't ignore the joyful yell of his student and he's forced to raise his head once more. "Yes, Naruto?" he asks, forcing his voice to remain flat. Naruto waves wildly at him. 

"Watch me win this fight!" 

Kakashi can't help but glance at you, and he notices the glint in your eye immediately. Naruto might be your little brother, and this training might be about helping him improve, but there's no way you're going easy on him. You're gonna fight him with your full force, and Kakashi can see it written all over your face. And, quite frankly, it turns him on even more. 

Kakashi gulps. 

Naruto attacks first with a yell, almost instinctively making the hindsight for the shadow clone jutsu. He only makes one other clone this time and manages to do it too, which makes Kakashi smile just a bit behind his mask. 

Both Narutos attack you in full force, with the clone remaining at your front, while the real Naruto leaps round to stand at your back. It's a good strategy, Kakashi can admit, however, he sees the flaws in it immediately. 

As do you, it would seem, when you spin and grab the real Naruto as he leaps at you, only to hurls him over your shoulder at the clone. The clone disappears with a pop and Naruto splashes down into the river water. He sinks for a moment before coughing and splashing as he tries to pull himself up.

You stand over him, confident but not smug about your victory, and even now Kakashi can see the pride in your eyes. Just the fact that Naruto had been able to create a shadow clone with enough control so they both remained atop the water was a huge step. Enough, almost, for kakashi to forget the stirring in his crotch. 

However, it would seem that you're determined to make life difficult for him because you turn to look at him them. Not just your head but most of your body as wall. And Kakashi gets a full dose of the way you look right now; dripping hair, sun-warmed skin, the spark in your eye that appears whenever you're fighting, and just the hint of a smile in the curve of your lips. 

Immediately, it all comes rushing back to Kakashi and he's suddenly very very glad for his mask. His face is bright pink. 

"He's doing well, huh?" You say to Kakashi in a voice that's just quiet enough that Naruto, who's still in the river, won't hear over the sound of his own struggling. 

"Oh." Kakashi coughs and makes sure to set his book doen on his lap in a way that will conceal… things. "Yes, well, you're a good teacher, it would seem." 

Your smile widens just a little but you shake your head. "So are you. You taught him chakra control, didn't you?" 

"Maa, it was more like a forced him to learn it," Kakashi admits, tilting his head to the side just a bit. "He did it by himself, mostly." 

That does make you smile and you turn your head to look at Naruto once more. He's managed to climb out the water by now and is crouching on its surface, shaking himself like a dog. 

"He's pretty amazing," you say softly as you watch him, pride and pain in your eyes. "I just wish…" 

Kakashi knows what you're thinking. He wishes the same thing, sometimes multiple times a day. That his sensei could see Naruto now, that Kushjna could see him. 

What he's sure you don't realise is that Kakashi wishes the same with for you too. He looks away from Naruto and back to you, his gaze sliding over you. He can't help but remember the little girl who'd refused to let go of his sleeve in the days following the Nine Tails attack, the way you hadn't been able to even look at Naruto for so long, how you'd worn your ANBU mask everywhere for years just so people would stop looking at you. You've grown up so much since then, since that day you'd seen Naruto sitting alone on his swing and decided to change something. Kakashi is sure Minato-sensei would have been just as proud of you. 

"You're amazing," he can't help but mumble under his breath as he stares at you. "Really amazing. I wish I could say it to you properly." 

Naruto is ready to attack again by this time, and he wastes not even a second before he's leaping back at you. Kakashi catches the giggle of joy you let out as you jump right back into the fight along with the younger boy and it makes him smile. He watches as Naruto tries to kick you and you don't even need to see it to block it, as you aim a small wind-style attack which sends him tumbling back, as he doesn't sink into the water like he usually does and instead kneels atop it, coughing. 

Minato-sensei , Kakashi thinks to himself as he watches the pair of you, just a little wistfully. I wish you were here to see this.

Minato-sensei, I'm so glad you're not here to see this. 

Kakashi… honestly doesn't know how he keeps ending up in these situations. 

He's thought, when the assignment was first given, that there wouldn't be much room for him to mess things up. Technically, as Danzo Shimura had so graciously pointed out as he handed the paperwork over to Kakashi, this task was one for the ANBU. Top secret, stealth oriented, the kind that no one should be able to trace back to Konohagakure. Nothing nefarious of course - Tsunade would rather lay down and die than allow her shinobi to collaborate in any of the borderline heinous things Root got up to. No, it was just an intel gathering assignment, just turned up to a level of difficultly that would have even the most experienced shinobi sweating through their vests. 

It should be ANBU members taking it. But Konoha seems perpetually short-staffed these days and even the ANBU are running low on available shinobi - at least, shinobi of the calibre required to take on a mission. 

You and Kakashi are assigned because you're ex-ANBU. And Tenzo is told to accompany you as well. So you'd all left Konohagakure together, ready to trek out towards some nameless city run by organised crime to snoop around. 

You'd left together. But you're not that way anymore. If Kakashi remembers correctly, the three of you had been separated on the third day after which you'd arrived at the town, and he hasn't seen you or Tenzo since. 

So much for simple, right?

Kakashi doesn't mind working alone. In his personal opinion, that's actually when he does some of his best work. What he does mind is having absolutely no clue where his teammates are, if they're safe or even if they're alive. 

He minds it mostly because he hates the stress. But also because it means he has to sneak around looking for them in places he'd much rather not be. 

Hence… well, this.

Kakashi had slipped his way into one of the houses belonging to the leader of the crime syndicate in search of… something. Anything. Supposedly the house had been quiet, which should have left Kakashi plenty of room to scurry around in there completely undisturbed. 

Only, things never went according to plan, and as it turned out, the house was not quiet. Kakashi had been sneaking down one hallway when he'd heard the loud booming voice of none other than the owner of the house. In panic, he'd slipped into the nearest room - which happened to be a bedroom - and rolled under the large, raised bed in search of cover. 

Only to come face to face with you. Of all the people. 

Once again, Kakashi sends a prayer up to all the gods he can think of, thanking them that his sensei isn't around to witness this. 

He's got you pinned. You, with your back to the wooden floor, your arms pressed to your sides and your eyes wide, him, somehow, above you, balancing on his forearms and knees, keeping his distance as best as he can. 

Which isn't very applaudable, considering how little room there is beneath the bed and the face that his chest, stomach and pelvis are pressed flush against yours. Really, he'd only need to relax the muscles in his neck by a fraction for his head to drop and then he'd be kissing you just like that. 

I'm sorry, Kakashi tries to plead as best he can with the one eye you can see. I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry.  He would sign it but he can't move his arms at all. 

You just blink back, slowly and animatedly, as if you're still trying to process what's going on. Then you shift one shoulder as best you can, in a gesture that Kakashi hopes to mean 'It's okay.' 

It's  not okay. Definitely not. With the both of you only dressed in thin, black, stealth suits, Kakashi can feel just about everything. The entire front of his body is pressed flat against yours and every single nerve is firing faster than he can process. Gods, he can feel your heartbeat. Not to mention the front curves of your hips, the softness of your stomach and your… your… 

Your breasts are squashed right up into his pecs and Kakashi can't breathe. 

He also doesn't have time to focus on the fact that he can't breathe either, because right then the door of the bedroom you're both cowering in is thrown open and heavy footsteps stomp their way in. Kakashi almost wants to squeeze his eyes shut in anticipation. 

There's a thump. The mattress creaks above the both of you. And then there's so much pressure on Kakashi's back that he can't help it - he's forced down further, practically into you, until his head is buried in your shoulder and his pelvis is crushing yours. 

Something twitches in his pants as he feels you move just a little beneath him, your body rubbing against his own.

No! Kakashi thinks desperately, actually squeezing his eyes shut this time. The warmth of your body is so overwhelming it's also making him light headed, but he has the presence of mind to start hating himself all over again. No No No No nononononononoooooooo! Not now! 

Yes now, his cock tells him though because fuck, you feel… 

You're shifting again, obviously trying to get more comfortable, but in doing so, you're unknowingly grinding on Kakashi. And it has him pratically shaking because not only is he hard but now you're touching it. 

Oh gods. 

Kakashi's jaw clenches and he does his best to shift himself away from you. At least, he does the most he possible can without alerting whoever has decided to flop down on the bed above the both of you. Only it does fuck all and he's in just as much of a predicament as before. 

He feels a tight grasp on his sleeve just then, sudden and warning. It makes his pause and he turns his head just a little to try and see your face. Only you're already looking, your head turned just a little. Your eyes are wide, almost threatening and Kakashi understands immediately - stop moving. 

I would, Kakashi thinks desperately. I really would. But if I do, you'll feel it! And then you'll hate me forever! 

He can't exactly tell you these things though, so he has to follow your instruction. And oh crap , is it so much worse. 

His hard on is pressed right up against your thigh. And he knows you feel it because he can feel your leg twitch just slightly when it brushes against the rod in his pants. 

She's gonna hate me she's gonna hate me shesgonnahateme- huh? 

Oh-

You've tilted your hips, just the tiniest bit. It's definitely unintentional but it's enough to grind along Kakashi's erection, just enough. 

Kakashi chokes on the moan that bubbles in his throat and he has to sink his teeth so deep into his bottom lip to muffle it that he's sure blood is drawn. 

Stop! Stop moving stop stop stop stop stop stop stopstopstopstop!!!!! 

There's another creak from above, as the guy occupying the bed shifts again. Thankfully, it makes you freeze up and Kakashi is granted some small reprieve. And then, thank the gods, the man on the bed lets out a low groan and then rolls back onto his feet, climbing off the mattress and lifting his weight up off the both of you once more. 

Kakashi can't help it - he all but jumps away from you as fast as he can possibly move. It's not much but it's just enough that he might be able to pass off the bulge in his pants as a ninja tool - if by some miracle, you haven't noticed already. He almost doesn't care about getting caught anymore. He figures whatever the gang of rogue ninja have in store for him would be far less excruciating than this. Only you grab him once more, by the sleeve, and forcibly hold him still above you until the bastard from the bed has moved out the door. 

Kakashi works up enough courage to look down at you then; just a split second glance to try and gauge your level of disgusting. Only, when he sees your face, he almost freezes up once more. 

That look… it's almost knowing. 

A thought strikes him like lightening then, and even once you determine that it's safe once more and drag both him and yourself out from under the bed, it remains bouncing around his little brain. He can't ignore it, in fact he keeps dwelling on it, until long after you've scrambled back to the rendezvous point and met up with Tenzo once more. It makes him thank back to all the times before now - the onsen, the mission he'd had with you, training with Naruto, all of it - and wonder…

Have you been doing this on purpose? 

You're definitely doing this on purpose. 

Kakashi has been suspicious of you since this morning, when, completely out of the blue, you'd hijacked his solo training by throwing a kunai at his head, and then pestered him so much that he agreed to attend Asuma's birthday party. 

For the record, Kakashi had not been planning to go. He'd been planning to sit alone in his flat and read his books for the evening because he doesn't enjoy parties. 

Maybe he should feel bad since it's the birthday of a friend of his. Technically, Asuma isn't the the one throwing it - that's all thanks to Kurenai - but everyone will be there to celebrate him and his old age. Granted, it's a nice gesture. But Kakashi doesn't enjoy parties. Not in the slightest. 

There's always loud music he doesn't like, busy people he doesn't like, and horrific dancing he doesn't like. Not to mention the sake. Genuinely, he's a little scared about how much might be consumed at an event such as this. 

That was why he'd been planning on dropping a birthday gift off at Asuma's this evening and slipping away all sneaky-like to go read his shameless smut in peace. 

But now you've ruined that. 

I really should learn how to say no, is what Kakashi thinks as he drags his feet down the street in the direction of the izakaya where the party is being held. Especially to her. 

It really js a bit pathetic, how soft he's become. But Kakashi is also starting to suspect that you have at least some idea of what you do to him. Today especially, with the way you're fluttered your eyelashes and blinked at him innocently through your hair as you pleaded with him to attend the party, he couldn't ignore it. You've always been absolutely meticulous about every single thing you do with your body, down to the way your eyes move - it's something that you're forced to learn when you join the ANBU so young. There's no way it wasn't purposeful. 

Quite frankly, Kakashi is a little miffed that you've decided to exploit his uncontrollable attraction to you for your own personal agenda. 

“Ka-kashi! I see you’ve finally made an appearance!’

Kakashi almost jumps at the sound of the booming voice that comes out of nowhere. Then he lets out a heavy sigh and tuns his head to the side to find the source of the yell. 

“What are you doing, Guy?”

Might Guy gives Kakashi a very sad look from where he’s hanging upside down from the branch of a tree that hangs over the street. 

“What else but revelling in the springtime of my youth, of course!” he says enthusiastically. Then he starts doing sits up, using only his core muscles to hoist his upper body up to the tree branch and back again. "I thought I'd get my blood pumping before the joyous celebrations this evening." 

Kakashi blinks slowly. "So, you're going too, huh?" 

Guy smiles brightly. Then he unhooks his leg from the tree and flips to land lightly in the pathway beside Kakashi. "Of course!" He says, throwing a fist in the air. "A whole night for all of us to let loose and experience our youth to the fullest! Who wouldn't enjoy such a thing?" 

Kakashi resists the urge to say 'me' outloud and just buries his hands deeper into his pockets. Then he starts walking again, not bothering to wait for Guy. 

“To be honest,” Guy starts, jogging a few steps to catch up. “I didn’t expect to see you here, dear rival. I was under the impression you don’t enjoy these things.”

Kakashi blows a sigh out of the side of his mouth and rolls one shoulder nonchalantly. “I don’t like them.”

“And yet here you are,” Guy says, grinning at him mischievously. 

Kakashi is quiet for a moment. Then he grumbles out, “I got coerced.” 

“Ho!” Guy looks positively delighted by the news, his smile spreading out even further and his dark eyes sparkling. However, when Kakashi turns his own head just slightly to give his rival a questioning look from behind his bangs, Guy keeps his mouth suspiciously closed. He only winks at Kakashi before skipping on ahead, leaving Kakashi himself to stare after him blankly. 

It feels like I’ve been left out of a joke. 

Unfortunately, there isn’t much time to dwell on the odd behaviour of seemingly all his friends because, upon turning a last corner onto a new, smaller street, Kakashi has reached the small izakaya where the party is being held. He can already hear the loud voices of all his fellow shinobi spilling out on the street, as well as a cacophony of music being played. He only has a moment to steel himself as he watches Guy duck in through the entrance before he has to follow on. And as soon as he steps inside, he immediately regrets every decision he’s made today. 

The thing has only just started and already, it's spun off the wall. From where Kakashi stands just in the doorway, he can see at least three people with bright red, alcohol flushed faces, another four people passed out and one very drunk Iruka standing up on a table top, in the midst of doing a dance move that Kakashi hopes to the gods Iruka will forget once he's sober, for his own personal dignity's sake. 

Shit, Kakashi thinks wildly as he stands frozen in the doorway. Maybe I'll just turn around and leave- 

Only he can't because suddenly he hears a yell of his name. 

A yell of his name in a voice that makes his heart melt. 

You come stumbling over to him, a dish of sake balanced in your fingers and a loose smile already on your face. The way you move is wobbly, far less precise than it might be usually, and with your hair pulled away from your face, he can see the clear look of distortion in your eyes. You’re drunk. 

Not only that but you’re wearing… oh gods. Kakashi’s jaw clenches behind his mask. 

It's not even like the outfit you’ve got on is particularly flashy or revealing. It’s just not your usual flax jounin vest and dark pants. Not even your hitai-ate is in it’s usual spot around your neck. You look so… Kakashi almost wants to say human. Like if he imagines hard enough, you just might not be a shinobi of the Hidden Leaf. No, you might just be a normal girl.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Kakashi wonders what a world where that was true might be like. 

“Ka-kashi!” you say again, your voice wavering just a little with a small hiccup. You take another step in his direction and then trip - how, he really doesn’t know because there's nothing in front of you but air - and he has to duck a little to stabalise you with an arm around your waist. You blink for a second, as if you’re confused about what just happened, and then you turn your face up to look at him. Your smile is breath-taking. 

“Kakashi!”

Kakashi feels his cheeks turn a little pink. You’re so  close and he can smell your shampoo. “Hello,” he says back softly, setting you properly on your feet once more so he can let go of you. 

“You came!’

“I said I would, didn’t I?” Kakashi mumbles quietly. Your smile only grows more beautiful. 

“Still, I thought you’d duck out on me! But you didn’t! Thanks, Kashi.” 

And then you lean up and press your lips to his masked-up cheek. Kakashi’s brain short circuits just a little. 

You haven’t called him ‘Kashi’ in years. Not since before the both of you were in ANBU, and he was still Minato-sensei’s student. Even now, he still remembers how things were back then, when you seemed so much smaller and younger than him, when you’d hide behind a tree and watch him as he trained until he finally gave up pretending not to notice you and called you over. And then he’d help you train, teaching you advanced jutsu despite the fact that you were still only in the Academy. And ever time, like clockwork, once the sun had started to set and the both of you would hear your mother hollering your name, you’d give him a small, shy smile, and kiss his cheek sweetly, and say “Thanks, Kashi,” in the most adorable voice he’d ever heard. 

Kakashi was still a child back then, but he’d had a feeling, even at that young age, that those moments were special. Though he didn’t fully realise it until right now, when you do the exact same thing as an adult and it just about makes his poor little heart explode. 

Thank the gods you don’t seem to notice any of what’s going on in Kakashi’s brain right now, because you just raise the dish of sake you have in your hand up towards him and keep smiling. 

“Drink,” you tell him sweetly. “Let loose.” 

And because Kakashi is an absolutely sucker for your puppy eyes, he does as he’s told. He tips his head forward just a little, maybe to try and hide from anyone but you, and then he hooks a finger in his mask and drags it down. You put the dish to his lips without question, your eyes warm and soft, and feed him the sake with an elegance he’s sure no one else could pull off. Then, once the dish is entirely empty, you let him tug his mask back up over his noise with a satisfied look on your face. 

“You’re gonna have fun tonight,” you tell him, poking his shoulder with your free hand. And Kakashi can’t find a single word to disagree with you - he simply offers you a smile from behind his mask and finally lets his walls crack a little. 

“Okay,” he tells you softly, and lets you take his elbow and guide him further into the party. “Fine.”

The little voice in his head hums. What’s the worst that can happen? 

This is the worst that could ever happen.

Kakashi is honestly starting to think that he’s been cursed. Maybe someone has cast a jutsu on him, dooming him to a lifetime of unwanted boners. Or maybe he’s under a genjutsu, from someone determined to ruin his mental stability and self-confidence. 

Either way, he wants to die just a bit right now. And it’s all your fault. 

It’s been a couple of hours since he arrived and Asuma’s birthday celebrations have become all the more rowdy. It’s not just Iruka dancing on the table top anymore; Guy and Kotatsu have joined him. And despite the fact that Kakashi has consumed far more sake than he should have by now, the situation isn’t getting any less fun. 

You’d disappeared for a while after dragging him into the fray to socialise. He hasn’t minded too much; actually, he was almost glad because it gave him a concrete reason to pull his eyes  away from the bare skin of your neck. And for a short time, he’d just relaxed - as much as he possibly could - and drank sake and chatted with the limited few people he called his friends. 

Only now, you’ve reappeared again. Kakashi can see you as you weave your way through the crowd. You’re still a little wobbly on your feet but there's a look in yours eyes that Kakashi recognises. It’s sharp, intent, backed with purpose and resolve. And Kakashi gets the strangest feeling it’s focussed on him. 

He might cower away if he didn’t know you any better. Might shrink back in fear of those eyes you’ve fixed him with. Maybe that’d actually be the smarter option. But Kakashi’s lifestyle has turned him into somewhat of a sick and twisted person, so when he sees the expression on your face, which he knows means certain doom for him and his fragile masculine ego, he stands his ground. He even looks forward to it, just a little. 

Is he a masochist? Kakashi’s isn’t sure. He is pretty sure that you're a sadist though, at least a little bit.

“Kakashi,” you say once you're a couple of feet away from him and still approaching. He raises one eyebrow at you, not quite able to form any words. For just the briefest moment, your expression flickers, a flash of something like guilt passing through it. “I’m sorry for this.”

Kakashi blinks slowly. “Wha-?” he starts to ask but the question just up and dies before it can reach completion when, very suddenly, you reach for him. Your hands go to his shoulders and then slide up behind his head, until your fingers have curled into his thick hair. And Kakashi can only let out a muffle and surprised yelp before you tug his head down towards you and -

And…

For the first time in his life, Kakashi wishes he wasn’t wearing his mask. Because then he might be able to feel the way your lips are slanting over his just that much more. 

You're kissing him. Totally out of the blue. Why, or really even how, Kakashi doesn’t know. His head is spinning and he can’t quite get his lungs to work properly because you're so close that he can smell your shampoo and your perfume and he can see that way your eyelashes curl against your cheeks as your eyelids flitter and he can feel the pressure of your mouth against the fabric of his mask and you're so warm and softandholyshityou’rekissinghim-?!

And then you're not. You pull away from him just as abruptly as you’d approached, and let your hands slide back to your sides. You turn to look over your shoulder at something behind you but Kakashi can’t even follow your gaze to see what it is. He’s too busy staring at you, at your face, at your cheeks and your lips, which were just on his. Your lips where just on his.  

Well, technically, they were on his mask. But that's the only kind of kiss he’s ever experienced, so he's going to let it slide. 

You keep looking at what ever is behind you for a while before finally, you turn back around to face Kakashi. And then you offer him the most breath-takingly flustered smile he thinks he's ever seen. 

“I’m sorry about that,” you mumble, rubbing at the back of your neck awkwardly. You’re avoiding his gaze, like your embarrassed, but there's still something glinting in your eyes - something Kakashi doesn't quite understand. It makes him shiver in his clothes and need to strategically adjust the way he’s standing. “I… well, there was someone here who was kind of giving me a hard time so I needed to prove a point.” 

Immediately, Kakashi is on alert. “They were giving you a hard time?” he asks and his voice comes out much colder, a ghostly reminder of the killer that will forever remain dormant deep within him. You seem to pick up on it too, because your eyes widen a little and you shake your head quickly. 

“Nothing I couldn’t handle,” you tell him assuredly. “It was just a guy who I kind of had… sort of… a thing with a while back. He wanted me to go home with him and wouldn’t leave me alone until I said I had a boyfriend. And then he didn’t even believe me. So, I… well I roped you into it.” You look at the floor once more. “I’m sorry.” 

Kakashi almost doesn’t hear your apology with how hard his blood is pumping in his ears. Any and all hostility has faded from his system as quickly as it had appeared and now he’s just dumbstruck… and a little touched. He had been the person you’d picked as your pretend boyfriend? Him? Kakashi Hatake? 

“Can’t say I’m not flattered,” he says, almost a little shy. “And don’t worry, if it helped you then it's fine. Is he gone?” 

You look back over your shoulder. Then you shake your head. “He’s still there, hanging around in that corner.” You look back at Kakashi. “But I’m not gonna bother with him anyone. I’d much rather stay here with you.” 

“You would?” Kakashi asks mildly, physically restraining his body from shaking as his mind screams out in tandem with his words; you would???? Me????? 

You give him a happy nod. 

“Uh huh. Always.”

Kakashi thinks he dies a little on the inside. 

“W-well, as long as I’m not too boring for you.” 

“You're not, don’t worry,” you tell him cheerily. Then you send him a wink that almost knocks out his knees completely. “Although, if I have anything more to drink, you might need to walk me home.” 

Kakashi answers without thinking. “I’ll be walking you home anyway.” 

“Wha-?” You blink, surprised, before your mouth curves up into a hopefully smile. “Really? You will?” 

Kakashi shrugs, trying his best to be nonchalant. It’s not like he’s never walked you home before. But he’s never done it with you considerably drunk and him sporting a very difficult-to-ignore hard on. “Of course,” he tells you. “Minato-sensei would have my head if I didn’t and you know it.”

You turn, putting your back to the room but keeping your eyes on him as you lean just a little forward on the bar. Something flashes through your expression and then your smile turns from sweet to downright wily. A shiver runs up Kakashi’s spine once again and he has to cough and adjust his position once more. 

You lean in a little, your eyelids fluttering low. “Yah know, Kashi,” you tell him in a voice he knows only he will ever hear. “I’m pretty sure there's a lot of things my dad would have your head for nowadays."

Then you leans back away from him and turn to look towards the bartender to order another drink, leaving Kakashi to stand and stare mildly into space as his head spins. 

There's only one thought bouncing around his small brain - she knows. 

She knows. She knows she knows she knows she knowsheknowsheknowsheknows-

You know.

You have known for a while actually. 

Kakashi Hatake is a great shinobi. One of the best of his generation, a prodigy right from the moment he even knew what it meant to be a shinobi. The infamous copy ninja of the Leaf, disciple of the Yellow Flash and sensei of the last Uchiha. Master of a thousand jutsu and your friend since childhood. 

He can see so many things with his sharingan. And yet he's so blind when it comes to himself.

Kakashi Hatake is exceedingly obvious. And you've been messing with him for months. 

It started our as an honest mistake. That time when you'd walked into the mixed onsen, your face warm and your heart still racing from the near death experience you'd had between Anko's breasts, the absolute last thing on your mind was toying with your old friend. You truly hadn't realised he was there, not until you'd stepped into the bathing area and spotted him. 

You had wanted to turn around and leave as soon as you realised the bath wasn't empty. But that would have been very rude because, unfortunately for you, Kakashi saw you at the same moment you saw him.

Looking back now, though, you're glad you hadn’t up and left. Because the last few months have been oh so entertaining for you personally. 

Kakashi is down bad. And you know all about it. 

Of course, that's not to say it isn’t mutual. You would never, not ever , dream of acting like this if you didn’t like him back. That’d be cruel and selfish, both of which you can be but none of which you have a capacity for when it comes to Kakashi. What you are is sick and tired of waiting. 

Kakashi is your first and only love. And you are his. You’ve been aware of both of these facts for years at this point, since before your parents were both killed protecting your little brother. It’d actually been on that very night - one of the only nights you and Kakashi had off from ANBU duty in weeks, during which you’d chosen to get ramen together - that you’d realised your true feelings. Unfortunately for both of you, the timing had been absolutely awful. 

It’d taken you years to pull yourself out of the pit you’d fallen into after the night of the Nine Tails attack and the deaths of your parents. And then it had taken you even longer to extract yourself from the webs of darkness which had grown around you during your time as a Root Member. But you’d done it eventually, and found Kakashi waiting for you at the other end, finally able to accept you as a close companion once more. 

So while, yes, Kakashi may get off on the technically of the fact that the both of you were living through a waking hell for a number of years in your recent past, this has still very much been a long time coming. A long, long time. 

You plan hadn’t fully formed until you’d done a joined mission with him to the Land of Iron, a few weeks after the first seed of the idea was planted in your brain. It was on that mission that you’d been able to iron out the finer details in your mind and set up a concrete goal for yourself. 

Kakashi in infamous around the village, and even throughout the shinobi world, for having a resolve as strong as steel. And you were going to see how far that resolve was able to bend until it eventually snapped. 

To Kakashi’s credit, he’s done well. Very well. You’d honestly thought that stunt you pulled during the mission with him and Tenzo would have been enough to break him. But he’d held out and even now, a week after you full on kissed him at Asuma’s surprise parry, he still has yet to burst his way through the front door of your flat and take you against a wall. 

He wants to though. Oh, gods, he wants to. You can see it in his face every time the pair of you make eye contact. 

Your patience is starting to run thin now. It’s been fun but you can only do so much when you admit that, despite how entertaining it is to tease Kakashi over his crush, you’re harbouring the very same feelings towards him. And your limits are being tested . 

One more try, is what you eventually decide one evening, when all your other attempts have failed and you’re left alone to sit on the roof of your apartment and stare dejectedly at the night sky. You’ll give it one more try. 

And then what? A small voice in the back of your head mumbles. You’ll give up?

The thought makes you frown just a bit. 

You suppose you'd like it to go away. But it's difficult to banish anything from your brain right now. Where you are, lying on the roof of your apartment, faced with nothing but the darkness of the night sky and the few stars visible between the clouds that hang low - it doesn't provide an ample number of distractions. You try to find something new to focus on, which may prevent the sudden deep sadness tugging at your gut. But nothing comes. You can only stare up to the stars and think over and over again about how this whole situation may end with you all alone once more. 

Your skin is cold against the night air, so you feel it even more when an uncomfortable flush runs through your cheeks. There's a stinging in your eyes too, though it doesn't take much for you to push the feeling down - years of training, years of detachment, it's all enabled your ability to banish the emotions that well to the surface. 

The thoughts that cause those emotions stay though. Those are a hit more difficult to get rid of.

Frustrated, you close your eyes and attempt to try silence your mind. You let your body go slack and then stretch out your senses one by one; hearing, smell, taste, touch, and finally the sixth sense that every shinobi holds. You're not a sensory type so you can't distinguish specific chakra signatures throughout the village. But like even shinobi village, Konoha holds a constant pool of chakra within its walls, the product of so many living in tandem with one another. It's almost as if the village had its own chakra signature and as you rest against the slates of the rooftop, you allow your body to melt into it, letting the chakra gently encase you like the soothing presence of a blanket. It calms you and reminds you of home; not just your physical home in Konohagakure but the home you'd had years ago, with your two parents and the prospect of a little brother. 

"You should really be asleep, you know." 

You open your eyes at the sound of the new voice and tilt your chin up just slightly to look at the figure that has appeared. Kakashi is standing a little ways up the roof from you, his posture causal but his eyes curious. He tilts his head a little when he sees you looking. 

You almost snort. How is it that this man has an uncanny ability to appear whenever he's being thought of? 

"Probably," you say to him in reply, looking up at the sky again. "But I couldn't." 

"Oh?" 

"Too much on my mind," you say quietly. Kakashi hums in understanding. Then you hear the clicks of his shoes against the slats of the roof - clicks he allows you to hear because you know he can move without a single sound if he wants to. - as he steps closer towards you. 

"Are you thinking about Naruto?" 

You were. That's what had brought you out here in the first place. But since then, your mind has drifted to over things. You only offer Kakashi a hum and a vague shrug in answer. 

"That makes sense," Kakashi continues as he comes to a stop beside you. He remains standing but looks up at the sky too, mimicking you. "He'll be leaving with Jiraiya soon, no doubt." 

"Yeah," you mumble back. You think Kakashi might glance down at you in question.

"Do you not want him to go?" 

The question makes your nose wrinkle. "No… I think training with that sage pervert will do him the world of good. It's more like… well, if feels like I've only really just got him back and now he's leaving…" 

"You're going to miss him," Kakashi concludes simply and you can only sigh. 

"Yeah, I'm gonna miss him," you echo in a soft voice. 

This time you know Kakashi looks down at you because he all but forces your gaze to meet his own when he leans forward, blocking your view of the sky. His dark eye is firm but understanding - the look of a sensei, as you've come to know it. You equal parts appreciate and hate it, since you know he picked it up from his sensei, your father.

"It's okay for you to miss him," he tells you plainly, like it's the most obvious thing in the world. "Even with everything that's happened. It's okay for you to care about him." 

You huff and turn your head away, glaring off to your right instead. "I know that."

"I don't think you do." 

He's smirking at you. Smug bastard. 

⁸Stop acting like you know everything about me." 

"I'm not acting," Kakashi tells you softly as, finally, he drops onto his haunches to kneel next to you. "I do know everything about you. So I can read what you're feeling, unfortunately for you." 

You huff out an annoyed breath and say nothing. You know he'll elaborate without a word from you anyway. 

"You haven't been in Naruto's life for a long time," Kakashi says. "You've had your own reasons for keeping your distance. But that doesn't make him any less of your brother. And he'll be gone for a long time, off to train in places that will probably be dangerous. It makes sense that you'll miss him and be worried for him." 

Something in your chest sinks. He really does know everything about you. 

"I haven't acted like an older sister," you mumble out, noticing the stinging feeling of guilt that bursts in your chest - the same that always comes rushes up whenever you think on this particular topic. "Since he was born, I just ignored him because I was so scared he'd remind me of my parents. I don't… I don't have the right to care about him now." 

"Maa, you're such an over-thinker," Kakashi tells you, almost cheeky. You can sense the kindness in his words though, and the jest, so you can smile weakly as he chuckles slightly. "I can guarantee Naruto doesn't see it that way." 

"He doesn't know the full extent of it though," you point out softly. "He only looks up to me as a jounin and a mentor. He doesn't know I'm his sister." 

"Even if he did, it wouldn't make a difference," Kakashi says firmly. He drops his head and his silver hair catches the faint light of the half-moon that's appeared briefly from behind a cloud. "No matter how long it's taken or how long you've spent away, the fact that you've return to his life at all would mean something to him. So don't worry about it too much." 

You drape an arm over your face, hoping to appeared nonchalant but actually trying to prevent Kakashi from picking up on any of the tells that you're holding back tears. 

"Geez, you're such a teacher," you grumble at him. And he reaches over to poke you in the ribs, definitely grinning behind his mask. 

"Excuse you, I am a teacher." 

You stick your tongue out at him because, despite being inly a few years younger than he is, you're still not as mature. And then you shift, letting your arm flop back to your side so you can stare up at the stars again.

There's a long pause, only silence between the both of you. And suddenly you get the feeling there's something more Kakashi wants to tall you. 

"Why are you here?" you ask him pointedly as you try - and fail - to focus on only his chakra signature emanating from beside you. "You should be sleeping too." 

You hear Kakashi snort softly in reply  "I couldn't sleep either." 

"Were you up reading your dime store smut?" 

You think if his full face was on display, Kakashi would have given you a very very sad look. 

"It's not dime store smut, it's high art. And no, actually, I was making preparations." 

"Preparations?" 

"For a mission," Kakashi tells you. "Lady Fifth assigned me a new mission earlier this afternoon. A rank, singular. I'm to leave tomorrow morning." 

"Tomorrow morning." Something inside you - it feels like a stone- drops very suddenly. "How long will it be?" 

Usually, you wouldn't think too much of it. You're a shinobi as he is and you know the risk of leaving behind the village gates. But you also know Kakashi and his skill. Usually, you don't think there will be an issue. 

But an A rank mission js difficult to accomplish entirely alone, even for the great Copy Ninja of the Leaf. And he's leaving tomorrow. 

Suddenly that question from earlier comes crawling back into your mind.

"At least three weeks," Kakashi tells you then, in answer to your question. "Probably longer. I've gotta travel a long way and then stick around there for a bit." 

You can't help but swallow. Three weeks… 

It's not the longest you've been apart from him. But for some reason, you feel that uncomfortable tug of sadness in your gut once again.

Unexpectedly, you feel a gentle hand come down to pat the top of your head. 

"Aw, are you worried about me now?" 

You bat the hand away, grumbling, and then sit up properly. Kakashi's gaze remains on you as you do. 

"I'm not worried ," you tell him, trying your best to sound annoyed. "You think far too highly of yourself, Lightening Boy." 

Kakashi snorts from behind his mask. He reaches out to poke at your cheek this time, and you whack his hand away, almost blushing now. 

"Are you saying you're gonna miss me, then?" 

"I'm not saying anything." 

"Maa, yous so stubborn sometimes." 

You roll your eyes at him and pull your legs up against your chest. You let your chin rest on your knees as you stare out for a moment, not at the sky but now over the rooftops of Konohagakure. There's a moments pause as something swells within you. 

Then, without turning your head, you say very quietly, "Just… please be careful." 

Kakashi keeps quiet for a moment and you wonder if maybe he's feeling awkward. Neither of you are the type to express open affection for anyone, and that's make even more prominent when it's between the pair of you. Your pasts, so much of both entangled with each other; your time in the ANBU, the period after your parents death, joining Root, and then eventually having to learn how to live again - 

You understand Kakashi and you're sure he understands you too. But there's been a line that neither of you have really crossed, despite all the flirting and teasing and provocation (from your part) on the past few months. 

You turn your head, almost ready to apologise to him. Only to have the wind knocked completely from your lungs when he leans in and - 

He kisses you. 

Finally. 

It's soft, still over his mask and little more than a press of his lips to yours but the meaning behind it, that is what knocks you flat. 

Heh, got him, a little voice in the back of your mind mumbles. But you don't even care. Years, it's been years in the making. And you'd really started to think he'd just leave whatever you had together go unsaid until it was too late. 

You might've teared up if the pure elation sparking through your veins didn't provide an ample distraction. And when Kakashi pulls away, opens his eyes to look at you, you can only arch one eyebrow at him in a teasing response. 

"Oh?" 

The corner of his eyes crinkles and you know he's smiling behind his mask. 

"Don't pretend you haven't been trying to mess with me for months." 

You can only snort. "Trying?" you ask him as your eyebrows go up even further. "From what I remember I was succeeding in messing with you. You're quite obvious, Kakashi." 

He chuckles and reaches for you, shaking his head as he pressies his fingers into that place on either side of your ribcage that he knows makes you squirm. "Um, obvious? From what I recall, you actually threw yourself at me at one point, sweetheart. I'm not sure you can get more obvious that that." 

You're giggling by now, and it only gets worse when he uses his grip on you to tug you closer to him. And then you turn your head and reach for him without a millisecond of hesitation, finally able to cup his cheek with your hand and tug him down to kiss you again. 

It's still over his mask and as you find yourself leaning closer, you realise you want more. 

And when Kakashi pulls away from you, his arm sliding properly around your waist to hold you in a grip firm enough you know he’s not willing to let you go without a fight, you realise he does too.

“Lets go inside,” he breathes as he lets his nose brush up against yours gently. Your hands curl into the front of his black shirt, for once more obstructed by the flax vest he usually wears. 

“Okay,” you mumble. Your free hand forms the seal of confrontation as you let your chakra envelop both you and Kakashi. And then you're both gone. 

When you open your eyes next, you're standing in your dark apartment, Kakashi’s arms still wrapped around your waist as he leans into you. You feel him let out a soft breath before pulling back somewhat so he can look down at you. 

“I don’t think i’ll ever get used to you doing that,” he mumbles softly. And you're almost ready to laugh at him, however, he surges in before you can. His lips finds yours again, and even though it’s still over the mask, you feel it immediately - everything he was holding back before, it’s here now, boiling to the surface. With the walls of your apartment shielding the both of you from the eyes of the village, you're ready to let your guard drop further. And so is he. 

Your hands slide up, along the line of his neck before your fingers tangle in his thick hair, and you let him haul you in, even closer. His hand fingers the hinge of your jaw, caressing the side of your face entirely, and you think he groans into you as one of your hands grips at the muscle of his shoulder, fingers digging into the fabric of his shirt. 

“Kakashi,” you whisper against him. And then you pull away so you can meet his gaze once more. His gaze is dark and serious, but still so kind and full of love that your insides can’t help but do backflips. You try to face him with as much sincerity as you can. 

“I want you,” you tell him simply. “Now. But also… from now on.” 

You think he smiles softly. He leans his head forward and allows the cool edge of his hitai-ate to brush your forehead. 

“I want you,” he echoes your words. “I have for so long.” 

And you can’t help but smile back. 

You've wasted so much time, you think as you stand there, just basking in his presence. So much. But, you also can’t really imagine how it could have happened any earlier. 

His handgrips your waist for a moment. And then it moves, slides up your front. You tilt your chin down a little so you can watch as slowly he reaches for the zip in your flax vest. And then, when you say nothing in objection, he takes it between his fingers and gently tugs it down. 

It slips down smoothly, further and further until there's nothing left and the two halves of your vest fall open. You look up at kakashi again and he looks down at you, and you think you understand what this means. You let the vest fall from your person entirely, and pull the hitai-ate from around your neck too. And then you reach up and look your fingers into the band around Kakashi’s own head. He lets you pull it up, uncovering his sharingan eye, and then off him entirely. And just like that you feel -

You feel like people, you realise slowly. Not shinobi. Just people. And maybe that's all you need to be. 

After that, it’s like everything is a rush. You drag Kakashi into your bedroom with you, stumbling slightly as you kiss him hard enough to make your head spin. You drop your clothes along the way; your scandals, your packs, belt, shirt. Kakashi does the same, his things hitting the floor with soft thuds in his wake. Neither of you care about the mess when you finally reach your bedroom, and then you get to shove Kakashi down onto your bed so he’s looking up at you in awe; one black and and one red blinking through the darkness. 

You watch him watch you as you strip away the rest of what you're wearing. You pull your hair from its tie and let it hang loose around your face, and then you slide your pants down your legs and kick them away. You remain in your underwear as you step forward and reach for Kakashi once more. And he leans up to you, pressing his forehead into yours as your fingers work with the few remaining clothes on his body. His trousers, kicked away somewhere into the darkness. And then his undershirt with his mask attached. 

You’ve seen his face before. There aren’t many people who have and you're lucky enough to have been considered trustworthy enough by Kakashi that he’s let you peek at what's beneath his mask. But it’s only ever been fleeting glimpses, short moments when he tugs it down for whatever reason and then yanks it back up soon after. This, now, as your hands drop and you let him tug his undershirt off, is entirely different. As the shirt comes off, the mask does too - not just tugged away, but off entirely. For the very first time, he’s totally exposed to you. And once he throws the shirt to join the rest of your clothes somewhere on the floor, you realise that there isn’t an option to go back anymore. He can'y just tug the fabric back up over his nose to hide himself when he wants to - you can see him now. 

It makes your heart ache as you get to look down at him, at his whole face with nothing in the way. You get to place your hands on either side of his jaw, get to watch the way his hair falls forward, no longer obstructed by his headband. This is entirely him, nothing left to be uncovered. And when you lean in, let your eyelids slip closed and press your mouth into his without his mask for the first time you get to taste him - finally. 

From the moment your tongue slides against his, you know you're gone.  

Kakashi lets out what almost sounds like a whimper as his hands slide up the skin of your waist, and you think he feels it too. There's a yearning for him tugging so deep in your gut that now, you can honestly not understand why it took you so long to get to this. Why you spent months messing with him, why he spent months resisting you - you don’t know. You all but melt against him, let him drag you down on top of him as he falls back on the bed  until all of his front is pressed to all of yours. One of his hands curls itself into your hair, caressing your head with a finality that you know means neither of you are ever going back from this. And you can only grab at the bedsheets by his shoulder with one hand and hold his face with the other as you desperately wish to just fall into him entirely. 

“Kakashi," you whine into his mouth. And he signs your name in reply, soft and sweet. It makes you squeeze your eyes shut so you don't accidentally cry, makes you moan at the feeling of his tongue lining your lips, make your hips roll so you can grind down onto him totally on instinct. 

You both choke at the feeling - you're only in underwear, you remember now. You and him. And he’s hard against your thigh, and you're dripping against his. A shiver rushes up your spine. 

“You're okay?” Kakashi mumbles to you then, pulling back just a little so he can look up at you with so much love in his eyes your chest feels tight. “You're okay, right?”

You nod, even though your heart is pounding and your breaths are shaky. You are okay. 

“You're okay?” you ask him in response. And he nods too. A smile tugs at the corner of your lips. “Okay.”

Then you lean down to kiss him again, and this time neither of you hold back at all. You let your pelvis roll, press your lower body into his so that you can feel him, hard and hot, between your legs, even through the layers of your underwear and his. And he lets his hips thrust up, pressing closer to you, stimulating you both enough to make you moan headily into his kiss. 

“Kakashi,” you mumble again and again as you feel his hand trace down your back. It tugs at the straps of your bra and you don\t hesitant to drag an arm back so you can snap the clasp open. Kakashi inhales sharply at the feeling and then lets his hand spread out across your whole back, pressing into your warm, and now entirely bare, skin. He whispers your names to you, softly, and then wraps his arms around your waist. And then, without warning, he sits up, pushing you with him. 

You let him maneuver you. Let him pull back to rid you of your bra entirely. Let him bury his nose in your neck as he drags a hand down your front in exploration. You arch your back into him when he palms one of your breasts, his whole hand able to fit around it. You arch your spine and roll your hips more, breath hitching with the way his hard on presses against your clit. And all the while, Kakashi kisses up your neck, mumbling soft words into your skin. 

“Thought about you,” he whispers softly. “F’so long. Wanted you f’so long.” His fingers pinch your nipple and you yip. “You're so distracting, always. Been teasing me f’months and made is so fucking difficult to be around you.”

You smile, your eyes tight shut as you let your head hang back so he has more skin to work with. Your smile only grows when he nips at your pulse point. 

“Wanted you to notice me,” you whisper into the quiet air of the bedroom. “Wanted you to - see me. N-not like a sister.” 

Kakashi chuckles before he runs his tongue up your jugular. It sends a shiver down your spine and you pull him closer. “I haven’t seen you like a sister since I woke up from a wet dream about you when I was thirteen,” he admits and you almost laugh. Almost, if you didn’t understand him completely. 

You tilt your head down again, using the grip you have in his hair to tug him back from your neck. His sharingan gleams when he blinks up at you, memorising everything, and for a brief moment you wish you had a sharingan of your own so you could do the same. So you could burn this image of him into your mind forever. 

“You're mine,” you can only tell him instead as you touch your forehead to his. “Mine.”

“Always,” is what he responds. And so you kiss him before you can get any more emotional. 

The grinding goes further, your hips rocking against his and his against yours as you actively seek pleasure now. He's so hard beneath you that just like this, just dry humping, is probably enough to get you off. There's a pressure on your clit that makes you push into him further. And he can only moan in response as he twitches beneath you, hard and aching enough that you can practically feel it. 

“Please,” he groans to you then, breaking your kiss to hide his face back in your neck. “Sweetheart, I… please .” 

“Kakashi,” you whimper in reply as your nails scratching up his back. He just about growls into your neck in response. 

Your hips turn more frantic, your clit catching on his cock over and over. You can feel him trembling beneath and it makes you moan, aloud and unabashed. You let him put his hands on your hips, gripping them so he can move you as he likes and entirely control the movement of your lower bodies. You let him trail kisses down your neck and shoulder, throw your head back to give him more room even. And then as he drops his head down further to suck one of your nipples between his lips, you can only squeal in delight as sparks shoot up and your spine and your toes curl, and you realise you’re actually about to come. 

“Kakashi,” you moan as your pussy pulses in time with the sucks he gives to your nipple. “Don’t stop - don’t stop! Fuck-!”  

He moans against you, not stopping in the slightest, and you think his thrusting is getting sloppy too. His fingers dig into your hips hard enough to probably leave bruises and you almost scream. You spine arches as your orgasm crashes through you so suddenly it completely knocks the wind from your lungs. 

Kakashi releases your nipple with a pop and then buries his face in your chest. “Shit,” he mumbles, obviously feeling the way you shiver in his arms. “Sweetheart - baby - shit shit shit- ”

You grind down on him, even in your haze and even when it makes your entire body jump with overstimulation. And you feel as Kakashi reaches his climax too, his cock pulsing again and again enough to make you moan even harder. 

You hold him close to you for a long time, refusing to let him go as you gradually drop back down to reality and he follows shortly after. And even then it takes you a while to slow your pounding heart, so you pull away just enough to drop your head and kiss him again. 

He kisses back just as fervently and you know, you know, he’s not done with you. Thank the gods, is all you can think as his fingers wind into your hair. Because I’m not done with him either.  

Kakashi doesn’t separate from you, even as he winds his arms securely around your waist and flips the both you. He doesn’t separate from you even as he presses you down into your own mattress and settles himself between your bent legs. It's only when you start to squirm again, desperate for him to touch you more, that he draws back. And then you see the smile on his lips and the gleam in his eye. 

“Wanna taste you,” he whispers as he kisses down your jaw to the line of your neck. “Please, let me taste you.” You feel his fingers hooking into the band of your panties. You can only lift for hips a little in response and Kakashi all but moans in appreciation when he realises. He tugs your panties down and slides his own body down with them, until his broad shoulders have slipped past your hips and he's in a position where you could crush his head between your thighs if you wanted to. 

You don’t want to. Although, for some reason you get the sense he probably couldn’t be at all opposed even if you did. 

Kakashi presses his cheek up against the soft skin of your inner thigh for a moment as he blinks up at his, his eyes - usually so sad - now full of love. There's a moment of silence as you lift yourself up to balance on your elbows and you just look at each other, realising and appreciating. 

And then Kakashi leans in, sealing his lips to your pussy and it's all you can do to let your had fall back as a sweet whine falls from your lips. You're still so, so sensitive. And Kakashi is ruthless as he licks up the entirety of you before sucking your clit between his teeth with a growl. 

“Fuck,” he mumbles between obscene slurping sounds that’d make you blush like a virgin if you heard them in any other context. “Sweetheart, you're - y’taste so fucking good - baby-” 

“Kashi,” you choke because gods, he’s good. His tongue circles your clit, almost demanding a he draw whines and whimpers from your lips, and you can only card your fingers through his hair hope you don’t just die before you get to come again. 

Kakashi must know what you're thinking because he lets out a soft chuckle and draws back just by a few millimetres. “You're so wet,” he whispers, teasing. “Fucking dripping . This all for me?”

“F’you,” you stumble out, your toes curling when he lick a slow stripe up your cunt. “Only for you- Kakashi!”  

“You're so sweet t’me,” Kakashi mumbles. He removes one hand from where he was holding your thigh and slides two long fingers into you. There's no resistance - you're soaked,  and you can only bite your tongue and try not to scream as he stretches your walls so deliciously you see stars. “So fucking good. So perfect, sweetheart.” he kisses your inner thigh briefly. “Want you to come f’me, okay? Wanna see how beautiful you are when you come.” 

There are actual tears beading in your eyes now, tears of both frustration and pure overstimulation. You're so close all over again but there's something else you need, something more. And Kakashi obviously knows this, with the gleam hidden in his eyes. 

“Please,” you whimper as you force yourself to look down at him again. “Please, please, Kashi, make me - make me come! Want it, please, wanna come f’you.” 

His fingers curl within you, again and again, making your spine arch upwards in ecstasy. He gives you a small smile, one so soft you feel like you melt a bit on the inside. Then he kisses your thigh again. 

“My sweetheart,” he mumbles into your skin, his eyelashes fluttering as he closes his eyes for just a moment. “-ove you.” 

Then he seals his mouth to your cunt once more, slurping at your clit while his fingers continue to thrust up inside you. Everything that's built until now suddenly snaps once more and you collapse backwards onto your bed, your entire body shaking as your orgasm crashes through you. Kakashi moans into your pussy at the feeling, mumbling praise as he uses his fingers to fuck you through it. And it's only once you've stopped clenching around him that he draws away from you. He kisses your thigh one last time before crawling back up you body. And when he raises his hand to you, you take his fingers into your mouth with greed, sucking at them with a fervour that makes him groan. They taste like you, dripping with your slick as they are, and when you eventually let them go and pull Kakashi down to kiss you, the flavour explodes over your tongue even more. It makes you moan with how fucking filthy it is, and even though you’ve already come twice, it makes you wet all over again. 

“Fuck me,” you demand from Kakashi when he breaks away from you, your voice so whiny it almost most doesn’t sound like you. “Please please please, need it - need you in me, Kakashi-!”

He yanks off his own underwear without saying a word, fire sparking in his eyes. Then he leans down to press a quick kiss to your lips once again as he settles his body back over yours. 

“Gorgeous,” he mumbles as you relax back with him above you, basking in the warmth he exudes. “You're so gorgeous.” 

“Please,” you whisper to him. And thank the gods he obliges. 

He’s so warm as he slides into you, and you're so sensitive, that you both end up mewling against each other. His hand finds yours at some point and he presses it back into the bedsheets, twisting his fingers into yours so tightly you're not sure you could let go if you tried. He uses his other arm to hold himself up so he can rest his forehead on your shoulder and watch as his cock sinks into you. And you can only cling to his back with your free hand, digging your fingernails into his skin and whimpering as he penetrates your body. 

He's big enough that you need time to adjust, even after having come twice, and thankfully he gives you that. His hips still once he's bottomed out and he turns his head to press soft kisses into your temple as you whine with how full you feel. There's something more to this than just sex, you think as you scrabble at his shoulders and press the bridge of your nose into his shoulder. There's a deeper connection than just the physical. You can’t quite put it into words though, so you just kiss along his skin, hoping he feels it too. 

When Kakashi eventually starts thrusting - first shallow and light and then getting deeper and harder - you can see stars popping behind your eyelids. He's always been a powerful being, from the moment you'd first met back when you were both just young children, but this is the first time you're getting to see his power outside of shinobi related activities. His muscles are rippling, his chakra energised and buzzing, and you get the feeling that he could destroy you if he wanted to. 

You also get the feeling though, that he doesn’t want to. And that somehow makes your head spin even more. 

You moan his name, over and over again, punctuated by small squeaks when the head of his cock nudges up against the spot inside you that drives you insane. And he replies with murmurs of your own name, mixed with praise and pleas. 

“Feel so good,” he tells you softly as his hips snap into yours. You hooks your legs around his waist to pull him close. “So fucking good, sweetheart. S’warm and wet and tight round my cock, shit -  feel good for me, please, baby, feel so fucking good-” 

You want all of him. After years and years of pain and pining, you want every molecule of his being to saturate your own now. You don't want him to ever leave, you don’t ever want to leave him. And now there are actually tears dropping down your temples and into your hairline as you pull his lips down to yours again and kiss him with everything you have. Kakashi kisses you back, letting your tongue slide over his, tasting you, and you can feel it when he squeezes your hand reassuringly - he understands it all, he knows. His hips speed up in their rhythm as the desperation for each other kicks into both of you, and then you're moaning, you and him, as static seems to rush through your veins. 

“Fuck-” you choke, gripping his hand tight enough that he'll probably have nails indents in the skin below his knuckles. “Gonna - shit - gonna come!”

“Please,” Kakashi whispers. “Please, please, please, sweetheart, come for me. Fucking - s’okay, yeah. Let go f’me.” 

Your entire body seems to spasm, your legs trembling violently and your head tilting back. It rushes up through your gut and for a second you're seeing stars as the hardest orgasm you’ve ever had rips through your body. Your pussy clenches, pulsing hot and wet and you can hear Kakashi moaning through the feeling as his own hips jump. He squeeing your hand once again and then fucks you through the pleasure, his hips pounding into yours again and again and again as he chases his own high and prolongs yours. More tears roll down your face but you don't even care - you can only cling to your lover as finally, he gives one last roll of his hips and then buries himself inside you as he releases, groaning long and low in your ear. 

He raises his head to kiss you after a short moment of silence then, so much softer and more gentle this time. His grip on your hand loosens but remains, and you can feel his thumb stroking along your skin comfortingly. At the same time, you wind your other hand into his hair, not pulling anymore but just stoking at his scalp. He chases your lips when you eventually pull back from him and it makes you giggle just a little. Suddenly, you feel light than air. 

“I love you,” you tell him very softly as he lets his forehead rest against yours. “I love you so much.”

Kakashi blinks. Maybe he’s surprised that you've admitted it so boldly. And then he smiles. 

“I love you too, sweetheart,” he says in a voice that makes sparks dance through your stomach. “I love you.” 

You pull him in for another kiss and have to give yourself very strict instructions not to cry. 

When he pulls away, you nudge your nose against his somewhat playfully. “So, you wanna go shower?”

Kakashi arches a silver eyebrow at you, the glint returning to his eye. “Shower? Why?”

You give him a blank look. “Because we’re both gross and sticky and I refuse to go to sleep like this.”

“Sleep?” Kakashi mumbles, the corner of his lips curling in a soft smirk. “I’m sorry, sweetheart, but no one is going to sleep just yet.” He leans in to nip at your earlobe and you squeak. “You teased me for months , there's no way I’m letting you off the hook just like that. We still have five hours before I need to leave and I intend not to waste a single second.”

A shiver runs up your spine and when you meet his gaze again, you can tell that he's dead serious. Butterflies flood your stomach as the corners of your mouth twitch upwards. “Oh,” is all you can say, it it makes Kakashi chuckle deeply. 

Oh shit.  

Please.

[astarionsilverbough]

dangerous, tainted and flawed (know that it doesn't hurt me)

The first time he wanders into Raphael's realm, it's entirely by accident.

It must have something to do with the tiny, whispering threads that connect their magic - they're thinner than spiderwebs and more delicate than a scorned man's bruised ego, but they are there.

And it's not like Gale was trying to find his way back to the House of Hope - yes, he and the devil might have something of an understanding between them now, hard-won and tumultuous on the best of days - but he isn't entirely sure he wants to make house calls a habit.

(It does occur to him that he could leave at any point. Any time. Whatever force keeping this place so violently oppressed doesn't seem to affect him whatsoever. A favor of Raphael's, perhaps? It seems... unlikely.)

In any case, Gale doesn't leave. No - he couldn't! Not because of any oppressive spell - he's a scholar, for Mystra's sake! Raphael wasn't wrong when he called Gale out for his rampant, often troublesome curiosity. It's a damn good thing he's not a cat. He'd've burnt through his nine lives and then some by the time he was ten.

He isn't sure how long he's wandered the cavernous, seemingly endless corridors of Raphael's labyrinthine manor when he catches the faintest sound of music coming from the east. A piano, to be precise. Someone is playing the piano.

And... singing?

No... It's more of a drone - a monotone drawl that sends gooseflesh down his arms and thighs. Gale chases the sound of the unenthusiastic rendition of an old Cormyr lullaby to a set of open oak doors at the very end of an incredibly impressive vaulted corridor.

It reminds him of the cathedrals back home. The windows lining the hallway are stained glass; dappled light pours a rainbow of color across the marble floor, splashes of reds and yellows and blues and greens, of purples and opals and softest, rosy pink.

The bedchamber he finds himself wandering into is cavernous. Dark. Everything is tones of crimson and gold. There are what look like leather collars hung on the wall beside the bed. Gale's stomach clenches and his ears heat.

But then - something else catches his eye.

There's...

A bloodied riding crop on the floor. His stomach sours in a different way.

The sheets are in disarray. It smells of Sulphur and sex, of booze and blood.

No one sits at the piano. It stands lonely between a pair of massive stained glass balcony doors and plays on its own as Raphael recites the lullaby over and over and over again.

He's nowhere to be seen.

With his stomach in his throat, Gale follows the sound of the Cambion's voice into the bath chamber and finds there a scene that could outdo all the greatest tragedies - and perhaps even turn some fairytales into one.

Because the worst part - the very, very worst part - is that Raphael is almost devastatingly beautiful in his agony.

The Cambion sits slumped against the side of his stone bath, head tipped back to rest on the floor. His wings spill over the stone like pools of velvet, the joints bent in directions Gale knows can't be comfortable. The water is shiny with soap and oil - in excess, Gale would say, as if Raphael had gone through an entire bar or more.

Beside the bath are three bottles of wine. Two are empty. The third is half empty; Raphael’s elegant, clawed fingers tap idly over the green glass and Gale wonders if a bottle is more like a glass for someone like the Devil he knows.

But he doesn’t know him, does he? Not truly. Not the man beneath whatever mask it is Raphael’s forged for himself.

He’s covered in scars, Raphael. Across his upper arms, along the tender undersides of his forearms. The firelight brings it all into sharp relief, gnarled skin gleaming like tines of gold across the landscape of his body. They go all the way up his throat, too - no wonder he wears those high collars.

A broken devil. What kind of beast has the world made him into? Gale has yet to decide.

And then - a tear cuts down Raphael’s temple. The Devil shuts his eyes and his voice fractures in the middle of a verse that Gale’s mind finishes for him.

- comes the claw.

Raphael takes a shuddering breath. Gale’s resolve becomes as unconquerable as the Weave itself. Slowly, as one might approach a wounded animal, Gale sidles to the edge of the bath. He kneels down and reaches out to touch the water.

“It’s cold,” he murmurs.

To his surprise, the Devil doesn’t startle. His chest - too thin and bony, ridged with more scars - rises and falls with slow, shallow breaths. He keeps his eyes shut as he turns his head towards Gale. One of the devil’s hands emerges from the water and when his claws light gently in the middle of Gale’s palm, he stays right where he is.

“You should not be here,” the Devil murmurs.

It’s the softest he’s ever heard Raphael speak.

It’s devastating.

Settling on the floor beside the bath, Gale gently catches Raphael’s thumb between his own and the side of his palm.

“I could hear you,” Gale murmurs. “In my dreams. You sounded…”

Horrible. Terrified.

Pained.

Raphael’s brow creases as his nostrils furl in subtle sneer. When his lips ghost over the back of Gale’s hand, the wizard’s stomach lurches up between his lungs.

He’s drunk, Gale reminds himself, both fascinated and bemused all at once. Remember that he’s drunk, Dekarios.

“My apologies,” the Devil says.

Gale’s eyebrows shoot up. Raphael’s lips twitch.

“I can smell the shock on you, Dekarios. I might be damned, but I pride myself on my decorum.”

“Such as it is,” Gale says. It comes out… fond. Soft.

There’s a beat of silence.

Then;

“Who hurt you tonight, Raphael?”

He can’t not ask it. He can’t leave this alone, can’t just - pretend this creature is deserving of whatever wickedness has been inflicted upon him. Not when Raphael is thumbing idly over his knuckles and gazing at the back of Gale’s hand as if he’s trying to memorize the sinew and bones beneath his golden skin.

“You’ve a good heart, Gale Dekarios,” the Cambion says. “I can feel it - even though your sweet mistress tried so very hard to blanket it in silence. It beats like a silver flute sings.”

“And you’re even more poetic when you’re drunk.”

Raphael hums. “What can I say? Something about you… it inspires me.”

“You’re not escaping the question, Raphael.”

“I think I’m doing a fine job of it.”

“Raphael. Look at me.”

Gale doesn’t know what shocks him more - that Raphael obeys, or that the devil’s gaze is almost… pleading. Leaning closer, Gale catches Raphael’s hand properly in his own.

“Who hurts you and leaves you like this?” he asks quietly.

The Cambion’s lean throat works around a tough swallow. When he speaks, it’s around the gravel he can’t chew through.

“My lord husband, Dekarios,” he says flatly. “And trust me when I tell you there is nothing - nothing - you can do to help me. You should - you need to go. Now. And don’t come back here.”

His hand slips out of Gale’s. Gale feels a bit like he’s been cut loose to float through the astral.

“Raphael,” he starts; “go!” Raphael shouts, body coiling like a serpent’s. “Leave this desolate place, Gale Dekarios - and do not return. If you reduce me to begging -“

“Then what?” Gale challenges. “What then will you do, if I reduce the great demon Raphael to begging? There is nothing you could do to me that has not already been done by another - no exile, no ruin.”

Raphael searches his face. He’s been rendered speechless - Gale cannot claim victory on his own, though. He wagers the wine had something to do with his success.

“You need me,” Gale murmurs. “And I find myself thinking of you more often than I should ever admit to anyone outside this room. Our tale is not yet over, Raphael - and if you insist on saving my life to preserve the sanctity of our story, then you cannot complain when I attempt to do the same.”

A shaky, wet laugh spills from Raphael’s lips. “My,” he manages, “but I wish I hated you more, Gale Dekarios. You would’ve made an incredible thrall.”

Gale smiles. “There’s still time to grow tired of me. Don’t you worry.”

Raphael’s brief smile fades and he reaches up to gently dust his claws over the curve of Gale’s chin.

“Go, Gale Dekarios,” he murmurs, “and know that I will endure as I always have.”

“You needn’t do it alone.”

It’s Raphael’s turn to finally be surprised. The Devil opens his mouth and then shuts it. He drops his gaze to Gale’s hand where it hovers still above the water and after a beat, his clawed one crawls back into it.

Gale doesn’t leave.

Not just yet.

[apollodreams]

Edward Teach is like if there was a man who was also a baby deer and was also one of those soggy kittens that you see people giving sulphur baths to and was also the love of my life