#azure skin clinic

[azurebyanahat]

Azure by Dr Anahat Pirzada Sibia M.B.B.S MD (Dermatology) located in the heart of Chandigarh, Azure Skin Clinic deals with all Dermatology and Cosmetology Services along with providing Skin, Nails and Hair care solutions. Our treatments are carried out using cutting edge clinical techniques and top notch technology.

We take pride in our expertise in dermatology issues of Skin, Hair & Nails along with aesthetic procedures like fillers, threads, chemical peels, laser for hair reduction, microneedling for scar reduction & skin rejuvenation, medi facials, semi permanent makeup like micro-blading as well as body contouring treatments and much more.

[dermatologistanahat]

Anti-Ageing Facials In Chandigarh At Azure Skin Clinic

In the bustling city of Chandigarh, where tradition coexists harmoniously with modernity, Azure Skin Clinic stands as a sanctuary for those seeking to reverse the effects of time on their skin. Under the expert guidance of Dr. Anahat Pirzada Sibia, a distinguished dermatologist, the clinic offers an array of rejuvenating treatments, with Anti-Ageing Facials taking center stage. This comprehensive guide delves into the world of Anti-Ageing Facials In Chandigarh, highlighting their remarkable benefits, Dr. Anahat Pirzada Sibia’s expertise, and why Azure Skin Clinic is the ultimate destination for achieving timeless as well as radiant skin.

Unlock The Secrets of Youthful Skin: Anti-Ageing Facials

Time leaves its mark on our skin, causing fine lines, wrinkles, and a loss of elasticity. Anti-Ageing Facials are designed to combat these signs of aging, helping you regain a youthful as well as radiant complexion. These facials employ advanced techniques and high-quality products to revitalize your skin, boost collagen production, as well as reduce the visible effects of aging.

 

Why Choose Anti-Ageing Facials In Chandigarh?

Chandigarh, a city known for its appreciation of beauty as well as well-being, has witnessed a surge in the demand for advanced skincare treatments. Anti-Ageing Facials In Chandigarh have become increasingly popular due to their ability to address various signs of aging while providing a luxurious and pampering experience. Azure Skin Clinic, under the expert guidance of Dr. Anahat Pirzada Sibia, is dedicated to providing the latest in Anti-Ageing Facials, ensuring that your skin looks and feels its best.

Meet The Expert: Dr. Anahat Pirzada Sibia

Azure Skin Clinic is led by Dr. Anahat Pirzada Sibia, a distinguished dermatologist known for her expertise as well as passion for dermatology. With extensive experience and a commitment to excellence, Dr. Sibia has established herself as a leader in the field. Her dedication to staying updated with the latest advancements in skincare ensures that patients receive cutting-edge treatments delivered with precision as well as care. Dr. Sibia’s expertise in Anti-Ageing Facials makes her a trusted name among those seeking safe, effective, and personalized solutions for their skincare concerns.

[valiantverses]

Tremors

Ghoap X Reader

Summary: A therapist's waiting room wasn't exactly the place to have the most engrossing conversations. People were usually jittery, tense, or straight-up despondent. Somehow, you manage to strike a strange sort of connection with the retired military couple that had the Thursday slot just after you anyway.

Trigger Warning: Angsty. Discussions of Soap's injuries, the reader has mental health struggles and everyone has communication difficulties to some degree.

A/N: Scuttling out of the woodwork after having a pain flare, a breakdown, a career shift and getting some life altering surgery. Here's a new series while I rework all my previous writing!

Comments, questions, requests and constructive criticisms are welcome. Hate is boring and will go unacknowledged.

_

Maybe therapy wasn't for you.

Baring your soul to a total stranger and unearthing your life to be scrutinised by somebody. Then having that somebody turn around and drop you as a client because you were 'beyond their scope' and recommending you to someone else. It left an acrid sort of burn at the back of your throat as you settled into the sofa in the cheery waiting room of your hastily found counsellor.

Tick.

The leather underneath your fingers was squeaky. Static-y. The kind of leather where the grooves of the well-worn parts of the couch were buttery smooth and a slightly darker shade of black until it reached the bits that weren't quite as worn.

Tock.

The sound of papers shuffling and a low voice calling out a name drew your attention. It wasn't yours. Wordlessly, you watched a woman to your left stand up. The rubber of her cane cracked across the linoleum as she she signed her name on to the clip board at the desk, murmured her greetings to the therapist and made her way inside, the door shutting with a soft click.

Tick.

St. Jude-Thaddeus Hospital's Rehabilitation and Pain Management Clinic had the honour of being the only facility of any sort in your area that offered psycotherapy services. Affordable ones, anyway. Something to do with being integrated into the Ministry of Defense Hospital Units for disabled veterans- but you didn't need to know, so you didn't ask.

You'd take what you could get.

Tock.

You glance up at the clock once more, seeing that you were now close to 10 minutes to your first ever appointment with this therapist. A part of you wanted to fast forward the next 40 minutes of your day. Maybe the next few hours. Get to the point where your obligations were done and the first meeting was over and done with.

Tick.

When the door opens next, you don't look up this time. You try to contain the shake of your hands and focus on that squeaky leather underneath you. The thumps of footsteps don't register before the slight sink of the couch does. When you glance up, it is to the bluest eyes you could imagine.

He was handsome, a part of your brain helpfully informed you. Dark eyelashes framing a sort of azure blue, shards of indigo flecked about like sleet in the rain. His tanned skin had that slight leatheriness that could only come from working under the sun, the hand jutted out towards you littered with callouses-

"-hnny MacTavish, haven't seen you round here before."

Your hand moves mechanically to accept his handshake, mouth producing syllables you knew was supposed to be your name.

Realising the beat of conversation had stretched on longer than it should and it was now your turn to fulfill your part of the social contract that the stranger had looped you into, you broke eye contact and glanced back down at the worn linoleum.

"It's my first time."

There was a snort to the other side of you, from a bulky man sat diagonally from the line of chairs you and Johnny were sat in.

You quickly ammend your statement "-with this therapist. Just moved in."

His bulk seemed to carve away the space of the room, hulking shoulders leading to a thickly corded neck, lower face covered in a black face mask and his eyes a thin ring of deep ocean blue. What little skin you could see of his face looked sallow. Drained.

"Ignore tha' git. Insists on tagging along with me like I'm a wee wain and wreaks havoc of all sorts." The voice from your left supplied as you quickly began reassessing the relationship between the two strangers you found yourself in the middle of.

"You two know each other?"

There was a rumble to your left, a deep bass-y sound you realised was laughter. "Could say that, ma'am. "

"My partner," Johnny supplied, eyeroll evident in his voice as you turned to look at him once more. It was a little overwhelming having to keep turning your head to and fro because of the way the chairs were positioned, and your fingers dug into the leather once more.

Slippery, smooth. Pebbled with some long indentations.

"That's Simon. We've been at this shrink for give or take four months now-"

"Fifteen weeks."

"*-would'a noticed a bonnie lass like you on our weekly, enlightening visits." His quip was cheery, but there was an element of sarcasm you couldn't quite place.

This conversation felt like navigating a field full of landmines. Couldn't ask about his condition, why the weekly visits rather than the gold standard (That is, the national healthcare coverage) of every two weeks, why fifteen weeks- so you asked the only thing you felt you could.

"She any good? The counselor, I mean."

Johnny blinked, head tilting and making eye contact with his partner - Simon - there was a flash of something twisting across his face as the wordless conversation happened in a split second.

It was fascinating. The sort of communication that only happened when two people had an intimate well of knowledge of the other person.

Then dawn broke across Johnny's face and he turned back to you with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.

"Aye, lass. Not afraid to crack into your brain and really dig around. Well good laugh too, great to interact with given I've really only spoken to four people or so since I retired an' all."

You tried not to read between the lines. Tried not to stare at the way he leaned back to rub at the jagged line across his scalp, the puckered edges evident under the peach fuzz of dark hair. He was giving you what he could without dragging a stranger into his own vortex of struggles. You could relate.

"Retired? From military service?"

Regret looked different on people's faces. For some, there was a grimace. Maybe a slight widening of the eyes in realisation, or a hitch in their breath. Self-reproach for bringing it up in the first place. For Johnny, it appeared to be a slight furrowing of his brows and a darkening of his sky blue eyes as he edged backwards.

A cough and the scraping of the chair behind you drew your attention, looking to your right to meet the cold stare of the blond. Briefly, you felt like a cornered animal. Your hands grew still. His gaze was assessing, stony face giving nothing away except the overwhelming vibe of back the fuck off. His eyes flicked over your shoulder and then back to yours.

"Sounds like they're finishing up in there. You should sign in."

It appeared you had clambered out of the field of land mines only to immediately fall into a sinkhole.

Stuttering your goodbyes, you make to stand up, making the same trek the young lady had towards the desk. You fought to control the tremors of your hands. One stayed tucked deeply in a pocket as the other wrote your name down through sheer muscle memory. Sure enough, the door opened and the woman walked out with her mobility aid, a cheery voice calling out your name from inside.

As your shaky palm took hold of the doorknob to twist it so you could enter the room, you caught snippets of the conversation happening behind you.

"Bothering you-"

"-Ost, It would have been fine-"

"Your hands were shaking again-"

"Ach- I had it under control!"

"You don't owe strangers anything. Not after everything you've-"

"Please- I just- I need to have a feckin' conversation about it without breaking down-"

The door shut with a click.

As you sat down in front of your new therapist, you resolved to try and move your appointments to a different day.

[jamespotterthefirst]

Return to the Coast

Book: Open Heart, book 2

Pairing: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr. Lilac Allende)

Word count: 950

Rating: E

Prompt: “Why are you covering up? I have already seen everything.”

Warning: Strong Language and NS*FW content. Please use discretion and caution when viewing this work. By viewing of this work, you consent that you are 18+

Summary: They are back in Miami where their first kiss happened. This time, they are free to do what they longed to do that night. Note: Thank you @trappedinfanfiction for sending the prompt!

“Did you hide the Gatsby theme from me because you were hoping to get out of wearing the suspenders?”

Lilac, clad in a lush bathrobe, sits on their hotel bed, the contents of both of their suitcases sprawled all over the expensive sheets. She inspects a beaded number with clinical scrutiny before returning her attention to the ensuite door. The gentle patter of shower water is her only reply. 

“Because you should know by now that I will never pass up an opportunity to stay on theme.”

“I didn’t tell you about the theme because it was so trivial to me that I completely forgot about it.”

“Lucky for you, I'm a big shot doctor and I get the newsletter now.”

“I wouldn't deem that lucky.”

“My new career status or your inevitable Jay Gatsby fate?” 

���Both. You earned your current career through hard work. I wouldn't call that luck.”

His deep, lush voice echoes around the tile. 

“And as for the Gatsby costume, I'm wearing a suit and calling it a day.”

“And the hat. You're wearing the hat.”

“Absolutely not.”

She opens her mouth to reply, intent on kindling what promised to be banter characteristic to them. However, she completely forgets her reply. 

At that moment, Ethan’s glistening frame emerges from the shower and her attention is completely stolen. Through the bathroom mirror, she can see the hard planes and deep valleys that sculpt his body. They are not alien to Lilac— her hands, lips, tongue, eyes were very familiar with each— but he was still a sight to behold. He fastens a towel around his waist and then—

Striking blue eyes meet hers through the glass in a flash.

Despite all the time that has passed, she feels like the same lovestruck intern she used to be all those years ago. Unlike the first time, Ethan holds her gaze and a crooked smirk tugs at his lips ever so slightly. 

“Enjoying the view, Rookie?”

The glint in his eyes is equal parts playful and daring. He no doubt sees the blush burning her skin and enjoys it. If Lilac knows anything about him, it’s the devilish, smug side of him that emerges whenever he has this effect on her. 

“Partly,” she challenges. Very deliberately, her eyes fall from his eyes down to his chest to the hard muscle of his abdomen. They finally rest on the knot securing the towel to his waist. “Why are you covering up? I have already seen everything.”

It’s his turn to blush. It’s a subtle bloom of colors kissing his neck and cheeks but it’s still satisfying. He doesn’t miss a beat, though. Something dark settles in his eyes as he takes the bait.

“I have to keep things challenging for you.”

“You’re going to make me work for it, Ramsey?”

She’s on her feet now, slowly padding toward him. Ethan holds her gaze all the way through, azure eyes darkening more with each of her steps. 

“I’ll be the one working you, Allende.”

“Oh, yeah?”

Their noses are inches apart, which requires Lilac lifting herself on her tiptoes. 

“Yes. I'm going to work you so hard you're going to forget about that theme.”

He kisses her with such intensity that she is almost knocked off her feet. Though the loss of her balance could've been by his words, uttered in that low, baritone voice that makes her core melt. Either way, Ethan's strong arms catch her as he tilts his head, deepening the kiss. 

“We're going to be late,” she whispers in between kisses.

 It's not a protest but a dizzy acknowledgement. 

“I don't give a damn.”

He has her perched on the edge of the counter now, his hands getting lost under her robe. 

“Good,” she replies but the word is a moan as his fingers tug on the lace of her panties. They're on the floor moments later. Her bathrobe, bra, and his towel follow suit shortly after. 

“You're so beautiful,” he mutters, kissing the tops of her breasts. He continues to tease them, the rough scruff of his beard making her shiver. Lilac moans, arching her body into his mouth. His tongue expertly brings her to the brink. 

“Mmm, give it to me, Ethan,” she begs. 

He obliges. 

Eyes holding her gaze, he enters her slowly. They both moan, staying still long enough to relish the feeling of her body accommodating him. Then, he begins to move, making good on his dark promise with every delicious stroke. Their collective moans echo around the marble. It doesn't take long for his powerful body to bring her close. 

“Oh, God!” she cries, nails digging into his back. 

Ethan grunts and she can feel he is close too. A few more rough strokes and they're both crying out, bodies quivering. When the high is over, he meets her eyes and gives her a lazy smile. 

“What?” 

“It's a good feeling.”

Lilac raises her brows. “I really hope so, Ramsey.”

He laughs. “Not just that.”

Before she can reply, he kisses her. 

“I mean being in Miami. It's a good feeling being back with you.”

This time, she matches his smile, feeling the sun itself radiate from her chest. 

“I agree. It's good to be back where it all started. Though things are definitely different now.”

Smile growing more radiant, she raises her right hand to demonstrate. The golden bathroom light makes the engagement ring glitter. Ethan takes her hand and gently presses a kiss to it. 

“Indeed,” he agrees. “And I can finally openly say what I longed to say that night on the balcony.”

Lilac already knows but she asks anyway. 

“And what is that?” 

His soft lips meet hers in a tender kiss. 

“I love you.”

***

Note: Thank you so much for reading! I hope to be back reading and writing in the next few days 🩷

[terragro]

scraping it out

shhk.

slow, and steady. that's how it's done. a firm hand, practiced and moored; inflexible compared to the wickedly curved tool he is using, compared to the once-living-and-now-dead thing nestled within his calloused palm. tendons flex, muscles shifting under taut skin; knuckles strain from a dark tan to a soft pale with his constant, secure hold. that familiar and settling sound: a soft, curling shhk, the scrape a mellufluous song as a blade sharper than glass seduces its way through buttery-smooth, soft wood.

again, and again, and again. shhk, shhk. shhk.

if the material had come from the forest, the tree would have complained. groaning branches bowing with agony, years of growth and reaching heavenward toward the azure sky. kai had told his friend recently: "will you bend in a thousand directions for me, like the sun does?" is that not what a tree does as well? ancient and timeless, larger than joy, bathing in that otherworldly, milky light. only to be broken down in a matter of seconds.

the tree need not fear. the wood in his grasp was fabricated from his own will: such is child's play, for kai, to create something with an origin in nature, a block of wood in which to cut. he grows flowers, he grows trees. he creates diamonds, he exhales rivers to snake their way along the surface of his world. what good would the heart of gaia be if it could not create life? no trees have fallen to his hand, and yet the wood remains cradled by his fingers anyway.

and now, this.

mahogany has always been his favorite material to carve. the richness of the color, the swirling patterns of the grain. a burst of ecru, bronzed chestnut, red and full-bodied and burning scarlet. bright as licking fire, and his favorite shade. he feels it settle within his very blood, molten fibers twisting through vein and tissue, synapse and nerves. mahogany is dense enough to withstand a beating, yet subdued and receptive enough to allow a blade to carve it into something more than it was before.

perhaps it could be allegorical for his life. has kai not tried beyond everything to be strong? to personify the ideals bestowed on a boy of ten, only to find himself endlessly contorting into false shades of himself around other people? a steely spine superheated until it melts under a blow torch. a black carapace to protect what broken thing remains somewhere, drowning underneath his own subconscious. there is a reason, perhaps, why he calls himself mahogany in his own diary. who is the real version of him? kai, or mahogany?

shhk.

kai does not yet know what he will craft this wood into. his gaze studies the mahogany in his palm with a nearly clinical impassiveness, meticulously tracing the path of metal through bark, another smooth motion of the blade shaving off another curling lock of wood to float down toward his feet. dark eyes traces the alluring curve of what could be a throat, elongated and deeply bowed.

a swan, perhaps, some sort of bird. the shape of it oozes of elegance, a depiction of purity, beauty. if he wanted. if he willed it. does he? depictions of beauty are easy to make for artists; beauty is attractive, inspiring, eye-catching, bound to receive regard. swans most of all, with their elegant, flowing grace, downy-soft feathers, symbolic of eternal love and fidelity. it would be easy to make something palatable.

beauty, he thinks, resigned, and bitter. shhk.

conventional, boorish.

how incredibly human it is, to ignore what is considered unsightly while praising what is believed to be docile and pristine.

kai shifts course, of course. the wood within his palm, while easily a swan, is not that sort of bird, it says. treat it with respect, give it power, give it a voice. the blade continues its work: the angle of the knife is adjusted, the once-graceful neck is broadened and tapered low. a body that could so easily be slender, suave and comely is sculpted to be rotund, whittled into a large, imposing silhouette.

where once a swan requested to be free, a different creature lays in his grasp.

broad wings hunched and loose, features glistening in murky cerise, a sharply tapered beak, hooked for rending flesh apart. flashing talons that can crush bone. a nude face, a strong jaw, a stronger skeleton, and fearless daring.

a slow smile curls kai's plush lips as he nicks the blade carefully into the wood piece, prying feathers out of the material, and allowing the beast that demands to be freed to take shape.

the vulture stares up at him with striking, beady eyes. half-finished, its back and chest still locked in square mahogany, the creature boldly meets his gaze: all liquid intelligence, worn smooth as silk.

monogamous fidelity, love, and grace of a different sort, kai thinks. a swan's metaphor is obvious. a vulture's, perhaps even more-so. what stronger love could there be than to rid the land of disease and decay? than to act the role of servant, rather than queen? swan, and vulture. one regarded with awe, the other derision.

"hello, little one," kai murmurs to his creation, his raspy, eternally-rough voice smokier with how quietly he is filling the room. my hard-limbed love, my gentle-lead hunger. "you will find no derision from me."

the condor does not reply, but if it could, kai imagines it would say the same.

[chryzure-archive]

aaaaaand you know I gotta throw in a "Curse/cursed" for the WIP thing 👀

curse/cursed:

Chrysi shook her head slightly, just a single shake. An incredulous smile twisted her lips and it looked miserable. “Okay?” The way she said it stretched out the sound of the O, her brows coming together while her eyes remained wide, glossy in the way eyes became before tears began to well up. “So, I was… What was I to you?”

His tail flicked again, aggravated when the rest of him remained impassive.

“Chryseis,” he began.

She flinched away from him, even though he hadn’t moved once (except for that lashing tail, and Azure cursed his monstrous form for the upteenth time). 

“Because you meant a hell of a lot to me,” Chrysi continued. “I cared about you. But what was I? What were we?” She took a shaking breath and clenched a fist into the folds of her skirt. “What was that night to you?”

It was strange. Her voice simultaneously wobbled with emotion, her barely-tamped down distress threatening to overcome her at any second, and it was a dispassionate, clinical clamp on the emotions attempting to burst from her. The balance came out to the perfect parts of distressed and cold, and it made Azure want to kneel at her feet to beg for her forgiveness.

At his silence, Chrysi carded a shaking hand through her curls. They were disheveled—Jacks must’ve claimed his daily kiss from her already.

He allowed himself only a brief surge of jealousy, before he placed it back in that tiny box in the back of his head, meant for all the things he knew better than to want. 

So when he spoke, he sounded more distant than ever, each word an efficient deterrent: “That was a mistake.”

It was like he’d taken the knife-sharp points of his claws and struck her between the ribs.

Stumbling back, Chrysi didn’t bother to mask the stricken expression blooming on her face.

“Stop it,” she whispered. “You don’t mean that.”

He didn’t. If anything, it was the only thing he’d done that didn’t feel like a mistake. It had been love for the first time—the unafraid look in Chrysi’s eyes as she traced the markings on his skin, the way she placed his clawed hands on her hips, the way she kissed him and didn’t care about the horns and the fangs in his mouth.

But for the breaking of his curse, it was true: Chrysi was a mistake. His father couldn’t let Azure make it anymore. Azure couldn’t let himself make it anymore.

He would doom himself to that feral cat-like monster fate if he allowed himself to linger with Chrysi any longer.

He looked her in the eye. 

“That. Was. A. Mistake.” He repeated it slowly—an undeniable statement. It felt like expelling bile. 

Her face blanched.

And then—

She laughed.

A horrid laugh, cruel and mocking, but Azure couldn’t tell who it was directed to—him, her, the both of them? Not that it mattered.

Chrysi laughed, and it gouged at him.

[hayashidayuki]

Fill La Fill Pt.2: Interrogation Tactics (Pregnancy)

“So… Mankanshoku Back-Alley Clinic.”

Michael glared upwards, holding a wrinkled paper in his hand with a few shaky notes scribbled onto it. Some directions had led him through the cramped corners of the elusive Honno City, through murky alleyways of houses and houses as enclosed and stuck to each other as herrings in a can, a labyrinth of scaffold with no seeming end in sight. His eyes met with a large, garishly colorful neon sign, so bright he had to avert his sight for a second, blinded by the rainbow of lights that so deeply contrasted with the darkened mood of the nighttime city.

For what his more than rusted abilities in the language of samurais told him, the name he was looking for was written on that panel; in big, bold, white hiragana.

Despite his carefully crafted costume consisting of a Hawaiian shirt and comfortable jeans, meant to emulate an overexcited tourist, Dr. Michael Haussman was not there because of tourism, or a morbid interest in counterfeit medicine. Even if he wished for the former, that artificial island baptized as Honno City was not precisely a swell option for spending the Christmas holidays. Tyrannical, nepotist, cruel, and with a hierarchy so crooked it was almost mangled, the city was a cesspit of unfair living conditions, regaled by a monstrous authoritarian government that organized civilians and students between pigs and nobles, granting the latter superhuman abilities harvested with unique sets of clothing grafted from sentient, incredibly mighty fibers. In general, the place was bonkers.

Michael was instead there to investigate a puzzling happening. A daunting mystery, where on the flick of a feather, every single woman of fertile age in the entirety of the polis had woken up heavily pregnant overnight. Even if the streets were quite more silent with the cloak of the shadows atop, he could still see the waddling proof around him.

A brunette girl poked out of her house to grab a can of soda from a machine, holding her bulging stomach with one hand as she guzzled the soft drink on the way back. A student showed her little brother the shifting curve of her belly as the fetus swam inside her, the kid’s excited questions barely overlapping with her tummy’s loud gurgles. A mature woman strolled down the street, struggling to stand upright as her massive gut hung before her, stretching her dress.

It was out of control, and the detective was frothing at the thought of unveiling such an enigma.

His reverie was rudely interrupted as a hand placed itself on his shoulder, causing him to shiver slightly.

“H-Hey!” He turned back, in a startled surprise.

The playful scoff and the recognizable snark in the shade’s voice took no time in revealing her identity. “Heh. Are you always this much of a puss?”

His eyes fold slightly, noticing the frame of the girl. “I’ve been mugged three times on the way here, and one of them was by a dog with a hoodie! Of course I’m a bit jumpy!” The investigator complained, much to the student’s amusement.

By his side stood a young woman, a cocky grin plastered all over her face. Ruffled navy blue head, with a peculiar streak of red hair crossing her forehead; strong and dark eyes with gear-like patterns around the pupils. Plump, plushy lips wrapped around the small opening of a can of soda, taking long sips. Her strange, seemingly customized sailor fuku uniform with dark azure and bright crimson colors and a motif of an eyepatch was struggling to contain her swollen body even as she kept relatively still: massive breasts tightly packed by the fabric slumped on top of a colossal midriff, taut and firm as Michael could have well confirmed the last time they met. From the distance, he could spot the lazy outline of some feet or elbows against the thinly pulled skin of the unblemished sphere, deep gurgles filtering through the walls of her inflated womb.

Her name was Matoi Ryuko; as much an outsider to Honno as Michael was.

“Yeah yeah, yadda yadda yadda.” She shrugged off his claim, shaking her hand slightly with a playfully dismissive tone of voice. “C’mon, it’s not like you can be scared of a pregnant lady, eh?” She held up her stomach with both hands, shaking it around with loud sloshes as she ululated with her mouth, imitating a cartoony ghost in between snickers. “Ooooh, I’m fat and biiiiig, spooooookyyy!”

“No, I mean-” Before continuing, Michael sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. Marking his words with his hands, he added a lightly stern tone to his voice. “Look, Ryuko. I need to get out of this place ASAP, or else I could be in trouble. So, would you maybe mind if we simply went along with it, interviewed your friend, and I leave on this midnight’s ferry?”

“The ferry? What are you talking about?”

“The dude in his underpants riding a wooden raft on the coast.”

“Oh yeah, that guy! Pretty cool dude. Makes a wicked stew too.” Ryuko laughed off the stranger’s tenseness, and patted his back with just a tad more force than intended, the detective flinching minimally again. “Well, if you’re that strapped for time, then let’s enter, yeah? I’m sure Mako will be happy to answer your questions.”

Mako… That name sounded eerily familiar. Had Michael met a person named like that, before? Or were they maybe a character from one of those old Japanese series he used to watch on VHS? He was a bit embarrassed to admit it, but plenty of the names of other countries kind of mixed in his head.

Still, he nodded at the student, earning himself yet another pat on the back before they both entered the Mankanshoku household.

The door creaking open with not much resistance, the two of them made their way into the living room. Somehow, the house was even smaller on the inside than it seemed from the outside. A tiny round table meant to kneel in front of stood in the middle of the room, quite well lit by soft and warm lights; some scattered plates with crumbs of brownish batter laid on top of it, remaining of a family dinner. A few trinkets and baubles were strung across the floor: cardboard boxes, papers, or even a few video game cartridges.

Michael sighed, looking down at the messy ground. He could excuse a relative lack of organization and having a few clanks and clonks about; but electronics should always be taken care of, and even more so something so expensive and valuable like a video game. He crouched down, grabbing it. “This looks like someone got murdered here, are we sure this is the right location?”

“Oh, because I have keys of all sorts of different houses, yeah, just laying around.” Ryuko snarked back at him, snickering as she rubbed her protruding stomach with both hands. “See my belly? I’m carrying the keys here.”

“Okay, okay, just wanted to make sure.” He retorted, rolling his eyes with a chuckle. Reaching down to grab another of the cartridges that was next to the paper door, when…

“HIYAAAAAA!!!”

He was suddenly cut off by an almost violent force of push, ramming him onto the ground with the strength of a thousand warriors. Michael let out a startled yelp as he saw himself tumbling against a cupboard. Placing his hands on the tiles as best as he could, he rolled himself into a more advantageous position, his surprised eyes taking a quick peek at the danger…

Only to see a hand in a karate chop gesture rocketing down to his head, punctuated by another childishly high-pitched screech.

“INTRUDEEEEER!!”

His deft fingers caught the wrist of the attacker as well as he could, grasping into unexpectedly tender flesh. He was being attacked. “Ugh!” He groaned, trying to free himself, before the chuckling voice of a clearly amused Ryuko chimed in, stopping the onslaught.

“Mako, he’s with me.”

“Oh, okay then! Sorry, big scary man!”

It was then when he could take a good look at the bouncer. And his entire body shivered.

A rather small and normally petite girl, with a brunette bowl cut perfectly fitting around her cheeks, and big and attentive eyes and a dumb Golden Retriever smile that gave her a strangely endearing air. She was still attired in her school uniform, the more common white and blue that all the No-Star students at Honno Academy had to be wearing; of course, fit tightly around a swelling body, trying to do its best to not pop open and reveal the entirety of her. The ditz stood before him, one hand on top of her, of course, incredibly protruding and rounded abdomen, and the other holding a frying pan, surely ready to act as a fierce and brutal concussion weapon had Ryuko not butted in.

She was just as big, if not bigger than Ryuko. Her entire body looked far, far more expanded and fattened, her thighs rubbing against each other as she shuffled in place, breasts so massive she could very well be carrying another baby in each. Her stomach poked out of her torso forming a perfect circle, an unblemished sphere of glowing skin crossed through the middle by a lightly pigmented line; but her entire body seemed to have no issue carrying around such outrageous weight, maybe that or her swayings seemed so in character for her that it was easy to picture her without the gut.

Still, a cold sweat ran through Michael’s forehead.

This was the croquette girl. The one who had been trying to stuff him with croquettes a few days ago, back at Honno Academy.

“OOOOH!” She hollered out like a rocket about to take off, her eyes opening wide with an expression as bright as the sun. “You’re the guy who was at school today!! Did you like the croquettes?”

Oh fucking hell.

Michael took another sip of the still piping hot tea, huffing out a bit as he waved at his tongue. Somehow, the tiny table had managed to pull enough room for the three of them to fit, sitting comfortably as he had already taken a few notes about the investigation, in a new notebook he had gotten himself in a nearby store, as he lost the last one. Don’t blame him, he’s had a rough couple of weeks.

“Oh, so you’re having like an inbreastigation?”

“An investigation, Mako.”

“Yeah, that’s what I said.” Mako spoke with a happy tone, somehow downing the entirety of the cup, of literally almost boiling tea, in a single go without making a noise. Michael could instantly hear her abdomen gurgling ever so slightly as the tea went down. “So, big scary man-”

“Michael.”

“Yes, big scary Michael! What did you want to ask?”

The detective sighed, reading through the notes he had already taken. Pulling out his pen, twirling it slightly between his fingers, he began marking down a few points. His eyes peered up above the paper, spotting Mako looking at him with a big goofy smile in her face, and bobbing her head slightly back and forth. Did this girl not run out of energy? If you stapled a couple cables to her you could power an entire city through sheer power of electricity.

Tapping the edge of the paper with his pen, Michael hesitated, taking another, this time more careful sip of the sweet black tea, and nodding to himself. This was going to be a long night, he could tell.

“So… Mankanshoku Mako, was it, yeah?” He inquired, the girl nodding enthusiastically in reply. “Great, let me see… So tell me, what were you doing when this, you know, the whole pregnancy thingy, happened?” He pointed with his pen at her stomach, left bare by the rolled up uniform, where he could notice more than one small and sleepy kick.

“Oh, I was eating!”

“... Is that it? Like, just eating?”

“Yup!”

Michael could hear Ryuko’s entertained giggles ringing in his ears, as much as she was trying to stifle them. “Yeah, Mako’s kinda like that sometimes.”

“Food is very important, you know?” The brunette added, tapping her fingers on her swollen gut, rubbing it up and down like she was trying to polish a fishbowl. Did this girl never stop moving? “I was like, eating and stuff, just some chicken my mum had left; I was really enjoying it, my mum makes a killer dish every time she tries! Oh, although I’ve just realized, now that I’m gonna have babies, my mum is technically a grandma now! Should I call her grandma instead of mum? Although she’s having babies too, and grandmas don’t have babies that I know of, or do they? I mean, I don’t know if they ca-”

Ryuko proceeded to give her a whack on the head with the back of her hand, laughing ostensibly. “O-Oh, okay! Where was I? Oh, yeah, grandma!”

Michael groaned out, rolling his eyes.

“So I was just eating, then my tummy started to feel a bit funky. Like, I feel really really full, although I rarely am!” She kept bobbing her head ever so slightly, drumming on top of her womb with multiple fingers as if it were a percussion instrument in the school band. “Then it starts to bubble and make funny noises, and I notice my boobies have grown!” Her hands clasped the underside of her breasts, her expression becoming quite serious for a moment. “Look at them! They’re huge, and constantly dripping everywhere, it’s a mess!”

The detective closed his eyes slightly, scrunching his factions as he tried not to blush, hiding his bizarre mug with the small surface of the notebook. Ryuko was clearly having the time of her life on the side of the table, taking a sip out of her own teacup.

“Y-Yes…? A-And what else?”

“And then all out of a sudden, BOOM!!” Mako extended her arms outwards, and let herself plop on her own back, her ballooned gut sloshing and churning like the fluid inside was attempting to be freed from its fleshy, warm and snuggly compact cage. “My tummy suddenly bulges out like it was trying to explode! Something starts moving inside of me, like, have you watched one of these movies where there’s like a weird worm that comes out of a guy’s belly? Can worms do that? Or is it because they are weird? I don’t have any worms inside my belly, right? Oh gosh I’m scared now…!!”

She shivered dramatically, pulling the back of her hand to her forehead, and pretending to pass out like a melodramatic Victorian lady, slumping her head over to the ground.

Michael directed a subtle glare towards Ryuko, conveying an almost comedic exhaustion through his eyes within barely five minutes of the interview. The bicolor girl giggled, shaking her head. “Yup. She’s always like this.” She tilt her head, grinning. “Don’t worry, you’ll learn to love her.”

Just as the detective was about to reply, Mako’s voice chimed once again, once again loud as a church bell. “Oh! They’re kicking!” She shot upwards, sitting on her widened derriere, eyes glittering like she was just given an early Christmas present. “Look, look!” She pointed at her gut with both hands, caressing the dome of taut flesh up and down as it visibly began to shift and churn from side to side, deep sloshing noises emerging through the tightly pulled skin as the two babies inside her kicked and punched up a storm. All the while, she was glaring down at her massive gut, eagerly watching the ball turn and move, with a goofy smile on her face.

“Here! Touch!” She proclaimed excitedly, suddenly grabbing Michael’s hand and plastering it on her belly, the entire womb emitting out a profound thud as his palm made rather strong contact with it. The detective flinched, startled by how much strength the girl had managed to use.

“I-It’s okay, don’t worry! I-I’m sure they don’t like that too much!” He muttered, despite feeling already that opposition would be futile.

“Ha, nonsense! Look! They’re so excited to feel you!” She once again pointed at her tummy, the thrashing inside her growing even more feisty the more his fingers made contact with the terse and warm skin of her stomach. The kilograms of fluid inside her belly rippled and murmured, as she happily rub the sides of her gut, tracing the rounded curves with the tips of her fingers, the clearly well fed twins wading around, cramped and tight within the walls of her uterus, fighting their respective sibling for room. Her abdomen was warm, and her skin was silky and smooth, a coat of cushy fabric pulled thinly over a surprisingly firm inside, a planet of flesh and surely food that carried an ocean of liquid and insistent life brewing in it.

Michael couldn’t help smiling softly. The scene was cute, to say the least; and Mako’s astounding enthusiasm for unexpected motherhood stuck to him slightly.

“Y-Yeah, they certainly seem so…” He spoke in a calmer tone, glaring down at the shifting contour of the girl’s massive pregnant gut. Running his hand down the midriff’s flank, despite noticing Ryuko’s ballsy snicker chiming in onto the background, he posed himself to ask another question-

Before being rudely interrupted by the loud, filtered growl of a hungry stomach.

Mako, with a slight hint of blush in her cheeks, giggled, patting her gut. “Ooooh, someone’s hungry!” Without a millisecond of hesitation, the girl suddenly heaved herself up with an unnecessary twirl, almost dropping to the ground in a clumsy trip, her belly and chest bouncing en sonne with the upwards movement. “Gimme a sec! My mum left some croquettes!” She cried, before turning back to the kitchen like the time was going to run out, and rushing as best as her waddling legs allowed her to head towards the other room; all the way cradling her belly and remarking childish claims about how hungry the babies had to be.

“Do you want some of them?!” She yelled from the kitchen, unsure if anyone had even heard her.

Michael sighed, setting himself back and checking his notes. An hour had passed, and he had asked a grand total of one question. This was going to be a very, very, very long night, wasn’t it?

His eyes turned at Ryuko, laughing vicariously.

After stopping herself for a bit, the girl returned his glare, still giggling lightly. “Well, you certainly seemed like you were enjoying yourself, yeah?”

“... I-It was merely professional.”

“Heh. Pervert”

[southfloridafaceandbody]

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Beyond the realm of traditional cosmetic enhancement, South Florida Face and Body recognizes the interconnectedness of inner wellness and outward radiance. Embracing a holistic approach to beauty, the center integrates wellness modalities ranging from acupuncture and massage therapy to nutritional counseling and mindfulness practices. By addressing the root causes of imbalance and stress, clients embark on a transformative journey towards holistic well-being, radiating vitality from within.

Central to the ethos of South Florida Face and Body is a steadfast commitment to safety, efficacy, and ethical practice. With a focus on utilizing the latest advancements in medical technology and adhering to rigorous safety protocols, clients can entrust their aesthetic journey to the skilled hands of board-certified professionals. Moreover, the center's dedication to transparency and integrity ensures that each client is empowered to make informed decisions, fostering a sense of trust and partnership throughout the treatment process.

Beyond its clinical excellence, South Florida Face and Body stands as a beacon of inclusivity and diversity, celebrating the beauty of individuals from all walks of life. Embracing the rich tapestry of cultural heritage that defines South Florida, the center fosters a welcoming environment where every client feels seen, heard, and valued. By honoring the unique beauty inherent in each individual, South Florida Face and Body cultivates a sense of empowerment and self-assurance that transcends societal standards and embraces authenticity.

As the sun sets over the glistening shores of South Florida, a sense of transformation permeates the air, echoing the journey of self-discovery and empowerment that unfolds within the walls of South Florida Face and Body. Here, amidst the palm-fringed streets of Miami, beauty is not merely a reflection in the mirror but a manifestation of one's inner radiance. In embracing the essence of who we are, we unveil the true beauty that lies within – a beauty that is timeless, authentic, and uniquely our own.

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[jaydental]

Laser Hair Removal in Perth: A Modern Solution for Timeless Beauty

In the ever-evolving world of beauty and personal care, laser hair removal has emerged as a revolutionary technique for achieving smooth, hair-free skin. Among the bustling cities embracing this trend, Perth stands out as a hub of innovation and sophistication, particularly in laser hair removal Perth. With its stunning beaches and vibrant lifestyle, Perth offers not only a picturesque backdrop but also state-of-the-art facilities catering to the growing demand for laser hair removal services.

The Rise of Laser Hair Removal

Gone are the days of cumbersome shaving routines, painful waxing sessions, and messy depilatory creams. Laser hair removal has heralded a new era of convenience and efficiency in hair removal methods. By utilizing advanced laser technology, this procedure targets hair follicles with precision, effectively inhibiting their growth over time. What sets laser hair removal apart is its ability to deliver long-lasting results, making it an attractive option for those seeking a more permanent solution to unwanted hair.

Why Perth?

Perth, renowned for its cosmopolitan atmosphere and forward-thinking mindset, has quickly embraced laser hair removal as a mainstream beauty treatment. The city boasts a plethora of reputable clinics and medispas equipped with cutting-edge laser devices and staffed by skilled professionals. Whether you're strolling through the bustling streets of the CBD or lounging in one of Perth's chic coastal suburbs, you're bound to encounter a myriad of options for laser hair removal services.

The Benefits of Laser Hair Removal

One of the primary advantages of laser hair removal is its efficiency. Unlike traditional methods that require frequent upkeep, laser treatments offer a more permanent reduction in hair growth over time. This means fewer trips to the salon and more time to enjoy life's pleasures. Additionally, laser hair removal is virtually painless, with many patients describing the sensation as mild tingling or warmth. With minimal downtime and quick treatment sessions, it's no wonder that laser hair removal has become the preferred choice for busy individuals seeking smooth, silky skin.

Choosing the Right Provider

When considering laser hair removal in Perth, it's essential to select a reputable provider with a track record of excellence. Look for clinics that employ certified technicians and use FDA-approved laser devices to ensure both safety and efficacy. Additionally, don't hesitate to schedule consultations with multiple providers to discuss your goals, expectations, and any concerns you may have. A reputable clinic will prioritize patient satisfaction and provide personalized treatment plans tailored to your unique needs.

Moreover, Azure Medical is committed to sustainability and environmental responsibility, striving to minimize its carbon footprint through eco-friendly practices and product choices. By prioritizing both the well-being of its clients and the planet, Azure Medical sets a new standard for ethical beauty practices in Perth and beyond.

The Future of Beauty

As laser hair removal continues to gain popularity in Perth and beyond, it's clear that this innovative technique is here to stay. With its unparalleled precision and long-lasting results, laser hair removal offers a convenient and effective solution for achieving silky-smooth skin. Whether you're preparing for a day at Cottesloe Beach or a night out in Northbridge, laser hair removal empowers you to look and feel your best with confidence. Say goodbye to razors, wax strips, and tweezers – and hello to a future of effortless beauty.

[azurebyanahat]

Laser Hair Removal in Chandigarh

Looking for a trusted dermatologist for Laser Treatments in Chandigarh? Turn to Dr. Anahat for superior care and results. Achieve your skin goals today.

If you are looking for Laser hair removal in Chandigarh or Mohali, Azure skin clinic provides the best laser hair removal. Dr. Anahat Pirzada Sibia, the skin specialist, provides effective skincare solutions. She has over ten years of experience in practical dermatology. So, all you get is faster skincare results without any side effects.

[dermatologistanahat]

Chandigarh's Best Medical Facials, PRP & Vampire Treatments

Medical Facials In Chandigarh

In the thriving city of Chandigarh, where tradition harmonizes gracefully with modernity, Azure Skin Clinic emerges as a haven for individuals seeking to unveil their true beauty. Under the expert guidance of Dr. Anahat Pirzada Sibia, a renowned dermatologist, the clinic offers a range of transformative treatments, with Medical Facials being a standout service. This comprehensive guide delves into the world of Medical Facials in Chandigarh, shedding light on their benefits, Dr. Anahat Pirzada Sibia’s expertise, and why Azure Skin Clinic is the ultimate destination for achieving radiant, rejuvenated skin.

Discover The Magic of Medical Facials

Medical Facials represent a holistic approach to skincare that combines relaxation as well as rejuvenation with clinical-grade treatments. Unlike traditional facials, Medical Facials are tailored to address specific skin concerns, including acne, pigmentation, fine lines, and overall skin health. These treatments are administered by trained professionals who use advanced techniques as well as medical-grade products to deliver visible results.

Why Choose Medical Facials In Chandigarh?

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[keikakudori]

What's yer Bankai's weakness?

the question would have occurred at some point, sooner or later. but -- gin had been given one secret before now, a shard of something powerful, something that aizen had been sure that he would keep to himself. still, aizen considered the question for a moment before his head turned to leave that pool of rich amber, aged and darkened to the liquid state caught in his iris, focusing upon gin in full measure. the information he held was scanty at best, sketchy details, but aizen knew he could extrapolate and guess rather easily from his own experience and from what had been bequeathed unto him by kyoka suigetsu.

how sharp she was about telling him such things now.

❝ the power inherent in it, ❞ he finally proclaimed quietly. ❝ the demands involved in my Bankai are ... tremendous in regards to what i am capable of doing when i loose it. yet ... you've seen the state which i slip into once i can no longer sustain it. ❞

there was a pause before his eye dipped ever so slightly away from the gaze he knew was ready to meet his own, no matter how gin might smile and squint and hide those depths of limitless blue beneath the sooty darkness of his lashes. no matter how much aizen loved that vivid azure, admitting more felt strangely intimate. it was true that shinigami did not tend to share information of their zanpakutou with others, but aizen had already entrusted gin long ago with a different knowledge. it had been that knowledge which had brought him down.

the person who had truly defeated aizen sousuke on that day had not been kurosaki ichigo or kisuke urahara. they had merely been there to play bit parts to a finale already executed.

❝ ... were i not immortal, it would have destroyed me when i first achieved it. ❞ not just because of the power it wrought. no. not just that. there had been other reasons for that possibility. ❝ the power that is in its demands is -- strong. stronger than i ever thought it would have been. if i had not been ... afflicted in this way -- ❞ afflicted. a clinical term for something he would shed now if he could, the way snakes shed old skin. he would slip from it, emerge from it, leave it behind if he could. ❝ if ... what happened had not happened, i would no longer be here. it would have killed me, using all of my power and my life along with it. ❞

he smiled faintly, tried to, tried to smile a wry smile.

❝ the perks of immortality, i suppose you could say. ❞

[cheesy09]

Dangerous Attraction

I won’t explain myself. Just a shamelessly self-indulgent one-shot. I had an idea and it needed to be written down. This is by far the spiciest thing I’ve ever written, and I’m really proud with how it turned out :> Hope you guys like it too. Takes place in the Eternal Winter World Timeline, after Clinic Date.

Pairing: Kiro/Helios x Reader Warnings: Suggestive Word Count: 2,087 Genres: Steamy Fluff. With a dash of angst (because Helios T^T)

The black SUV was in plain sight.

I held my breath as I scanned the familiar stygian vehicle, it’s shiny dark metal illuminated by the overhead street lights. If this was here, then he must be too, I thought to myself. I didn’t dare hope though. After all, the car could have belonged to someone else. Anyone else, besides him. But something -- that god-forsaken part of me that pined for his existence -- told me that it was his.

That was why, the moment I saw a flash of silver dart into the alley nearby, I didn’t think twice before chasing after it, my heart pounding fiercely within my chest.

See you again someday. That’s what he’d said back then at the Clinic. I didn’t think those words would come true, could come true. But just the idea of those words being genuine made the blood in my veins boil with excitement.  

It had been days since I had last seen him. Days since I’d last heard his voice, or heard from him at all. The wait; the growing anticipation and anxiousness -- the ambiguity of his situation -- was killing me. An irritating gnawing at my heart. 

It drove me crazy.

Once I was a good distance inside, I stopped to look around.

The alley was empty. Cold and mocking. As if I had been chasing after nothing but an illusion. A figment of my imagination. Maybe I was. My desire to see him must have been so overwhelmingly strong, I was starting to hallucinate. After all, what were the odds that I’d run into him again?

One in a hundred? One in a thousand? I didn’t know. 

I tried not to let the disappointment eat me alive.

Just as I was about to turn and walk back the way I came from, a strong hand latched onto my mouth and pulled me into the darkness. 

“Shh. Keep it down.” A familiar voice. Familiar scent. 

Helios.

My heart raced as my back pressed against his firm chest, like two magnets stuck together. Helios’ gloved hand firmly covered my mouth, his slender fingers muffling my voice when I had almost tried to scream. The dark alley was mostly silent, except for the sound of the two of us breathing, harsh and ragged.

Helios pressed his lips against my ear, his disorderly breaths sending shivers down my spine. “What the hell are you doing here this late at night?” His voice was low and raspy, but for some reason wasn’t as cold as it usually was. 

Controlling the irregularity of my heartbeat, I pried his hand away from my mouth. “Oh, I’m sorry. Were you perhaps worried about me?” I asked sarcastically, trying my best to keep the joy I felt from showing up in my voice and failing miserably. I could feel a smile tug at my lips. I turned my head slightly to meet his gaze. Porcelain skin, angular jaw, sharp blue eyes... he was still as gorgeous as the last time I had seen him.

“Hmph. You wish.” He curled his lip, his eyes scanning the area to make sure no one was around, his silver hair shining in the glow of the moonlight. After a few seconds, he released me and I finally turned to come face-to-face with him, already missing the weight of his arms around me. “I don’t have time to waste on you.”

“Why? So you can hang out with your little Black Swan buddies?” I asked, a tiny smirk painting my lips. I knew I was treading on thin ice here. I always was, with Helios. But at this point I couldn’t bring myself to care.

I missed him. So very much.

Helios’ eyes flashed dangerously, as he regarded me with a scowl. He crossed his arms and leaned against the wall behind him. “Watch what you say, missy. You’re playing with fire here.”

“Fire? You mean you?” I asked tentatively, slowly, carefully advancing towards him. Every cell in my body screaming, begging to be close to him, as if even this little distance was tearing me up inside. “If that’s the case, then so be it. You have no idea how much I’ve been wanting to see you again.”

Shock flashed through his gaze, as if he wasn’t expecting me to say that. But it vanished just as quickly as it had appeared, a momentary flash, an instant of emotion. He looked away, but I caught the tinge of red that seemed to form at the tips of his ears. “Fire burns, you know,” he said slowly, guarded, unhurried.

“Then let me burn,” I murmured.

Helios sighed. My heartbeat sped up. 

“Look,” he began, stalking towards me, like a tiger, or an assassin, dangerous enough to make me back up against the wall, and yet captivating enough for me not to want to look away, until he was planting his forearms on either sides of my head. Our chests were brushing, the contact electrifying yet agonizingly sparse. His scorching breath hit my nose, fresh and sweet, and I had to grip the hem of my skirt to control my urge to pull him closer. Wanting his hands on me, his tantalizing lips against my own, my consciousness fighting a battle between patience and desire. “You seem to think that all of this is some sort of joke. It’s like you’re drawn to danger. You can’t just not stay away from it. Just like you can’t stay away from me.”

“If you know that then why do you keep avoiding me?” I asked bitterly. As much as I hated to admit it, it was true. Being with Helios was dangerous. He radiated danger. I had come to terms with that. But at the same time, I couldn’t just leave him. Not now. Not after all this time.

“I have to!” He winced, and made a face like he was pained. As if the conversation itself was physically hurting him in some way. “You have no idea--” he gritted his teeth and stepped a little closer, our foreheads touching, breaths mixing, but not as much as I wanted “--what being close to you does to me.”

I looked up to meet his gaze, the light within those dazzling azure orbs trembling with so many emotions -- persistence, fear, desire -- it made my breath hitch. He’s never been so open. So unguarded. So... vulnerable. It almost made me want to cry. 

Helios leaned down, as if he couldn’t control himself anymore, and brushed our noses together. I stopped breathing, not daring to move, lest I shattered this moment; this precious reality I’d dreamed of for so long. He hovered close, waiting, hesitating. “Please...” he whispered, his nose skimming over my cheek, breath lighting flames over my skin. 

There was a pause. I bit my lip involuntarily, my patience wearing thin. It was taking me everything I had not to lunge at him then and there. 

“Tell me to leave.” His words were measured, restrained, like he was holding something back. 

Probably himself.

Fire spread throughout my chest. The thought of Helios wanting me made the blood pump loud in my ears. My fingers moved, aching with a need to touch, to feel. I traced the skin through the rips in his tank top, circled my arms around his slim waist and dragged his body against mine, unable to bear the separation any longer.

“Never.”

Helios groaned. A sound that did nothing except spur me on even more. Static electricity filled the air and I shuddered when I felt one of his legs slip between my thighs, his chest pressing further against me. He gently nibbled on my earlobe, running his fingers along the side of my face and I all but melted into his touch. 

“You’re so stubborn, you know that?” Helios chuckled darkly into my ear, his tone sounding almost nervous. “I-I... don’t want to hurt you. Not you. I couldn’t live with myself if that happened.”

I looked into those smoky blue eyes, the sheer amount of passion, the almost violent storm of love he was holding back. I knew it, felt it, shared it, a long time ago, when he was mine and mine alone, before the darkness took him away from me.

And now, I finally found him, and I didn’t plan on letting him go again.

“The only thing that can hurt me,” I sighed, my eyes lidding at the way Helios’ tantalizing fingers were lazily rubbing circles onto my waist. “...Is being apart from you. I want you too much to bear that.”

Before I knew it, the words were out of my mouth and Helios’ movements suddenly froze.

All at once, he was in front of me, his face pressing up against mine, our lips only a centimeter apart. “You want me?” He asked, breathless, wanting. His eyes were shimmering with hope and a hint of disbelief.

I nodded uncontrollably. “I do. So much, it hurts.”

Helios closed the gap then, his sweet, soft lips on mine and nothing else mattered. All the surrounding sounds and scenery fell away as my senses zeroed in on his existence. Fireworks exploded in my head and electricity coursed through my blood. All the yearning and regret that had built up over the course of the previous torturous months unleashed a force inside me. I kissed back, almost violently, my teeth grazing his lips, fingernails digging into his back, my body arching into him, desperate for more...

Helios didn’t stop, mouth relentless against my own, hands gently yet firmly gripping my hips. He picked me up and I complied, instinctively wrapping my legs around his torso. He pressed us further into the wall, enclosing us in this tight dark corner, our lips never once parting; much too lost in each other to bother to breathe. I licked the seam of his lips, begging for entrance and Helios moaned into my mouth, his tongue eagerly meeting mine in a heated dance.

How long had I waited for this? This moment where he once again held me like I was the most fragile treasure in the world, and yet kissed me like the world was ending tomorrow. No matter how many different identities he had, his heart -- so beautiful and pure -- was something that would never ever change. And I...

I will never let you go.

...Kiro.

Maybe Helios sensed the thoughts that ran through my heart, and parted from my lips, giving us a few seconds to breathe. But before long, he was back again, pinning my hands against the wall, our fingers strongly entwining together. His mouth was back on mine, slower this time, deeper, more passionate. 

Like he was trying to engrave his existence into me.

My mind flash backed to the past. Feverish nights of being tangled in each other’s limbs, my hands in soft golden locks, dark ocean eyes threatening to swallow me whole as the movement of his digits elicited sweet moans out of me... and suddenly, I couldn’t have enough of him. 

Heat pooled at my core and I moaned, wrapping my legs tighter around him, desperate for some friction. Helios probably realized what I wanted and ripped his mouth away from mine, panting, his gaze stormy and intense... hungry. And I had no doubt that I looked the same.

“Is there... something you want?” His voice was low, dark, guttural, with some unspoken feelings, making my stomach flip. His fingers were teasing, sensual, trailing lightly over the bare skin of my thighs, slipping under the hem of my skirt... I bit my lip again, impatient. 

Why is he always like this?

“Remember what you told me back at the clinic?” I breathed, running my fingers through his silky silver strands. His lips tugged up slightly at the memory. “You said that I could have my way with you. Does that offer still stand?”

“No, it doesn’t,” he declared, mischievously, a playful light dancing in his eyes. Before I could protest, he picked me up again, without breaking our contact, and took me to the parked SUV close by. He opened the back door, tossed me inside and then quickly climbed in after me, locking the door behind him.

The next thing I knew, he was on me again, his gloves discarded, hands impatiently tugging up my shirt, blazing tongue effectively latching onto mine, and he growled.

“Right now, it’s my turn to have my way with you.”

  ───※ ·❆· ※─── ───※ ·❆· ※───

Thank you for reading! If you’re interested in more of my works, you can check them out in my masterlist.

[kataang-dungeon]

Downpour

Aang and Katara get caught in a typhoon on the way to Ba Sing Se.

Rated: M

Word count: 958

Read here on ao3.

ooo

The rain pours down on them like a curtain of beads cascading endlessly from above. Each drop gets thicker and thicker, each strike on his skin sharper with every passing moment. Aang can't see through any of it as he hastily lands Appa on the outskirts of a forest somewhere in the Earth Kingdom. He coughs his way through it, sputtering out water and rubbing it from his eyes. Not even waterbending can do much when a typhoon disrupts nature.

He latches onto Katara's hand as she slips off Appa, damp fur clinging to their clothes. The bison roars his disapproval, but all they can do his hide under the canopy. There is no shelter nearby as far as Aang can see, but Appa tries to find it anyway.

They end up in a copse of trees with thick branches and leaves, just barely enough to keep the three of them moderately dry. Aang supposes it's better than nothing, but he knows that he needs to make an earth tent. He steps on the ground with a huff, and one springs into existence for Appa, and another for he and Katara. They enter it hand-in-hand.

"So much for a quick trip to Ba Sing Se," Katara laughs, wringing out her hair. It is loose across her shoulders in waves. "Sokka is going to be so mad when he realizes we won't be coming until the day after tomorrow. He didn't want to be alone with the Earth King."

Aang nods, agreeing. "Poor Sokka," he says with a sarcastic grin. "He has the entire palace and its buffet to himself. Whatever will he do?"

They chuckle together, moving to the back of the makeshift tent and furthest away from the entrance to keep warm. They both shiver.

Though Aang and Katara try to waterbend as much water from their clothes as possible, they are still soaked to the bone. The harsh rains and the howling wind outside does not do much for them, and Aang finds himself taking off his upper robes. His rubs his arms, trying to flatten the goosebumps that appear there.

Then, he feels lips on his shoulder. He tilts his head downward to find Katara pressing the warmth of herself against him, her eyes closed. The top of her robe has already been undone. He can see her bindings peeking from underneath. He lets his fingers graze the edges of them and her lips move to his neck. He sucks in a breath.

“I just…want to thank you for today,” she whispers against him. “For supporting me when I wanted to help that village.”

He feels the tip of her tongue at the back of his ear and bites his bottom lip. “You saw that they needed a women’s clinic when no one else did,” he remarks. “You always see what other people can’t.”

She presses the palms of her hands to his chest, and he is slowly being brought to the ground. He sees the way her azure eyes look at him, and the sparkle of want. A bright feeling explodes in his chest that settles between his legs and spreads.

“…and you’re wonderful,” Katara says, kissing the corner of his mouth. “You’re kind,” she adds as she lets his hand cup the side of her breast. She leans into it. “You’re selfless,” she says another time as she slides her way down him, rubbing against his growing hardness.

He moans into her jaw, her hair, her skin. She touches his face and caresses it, butterfly kisses littering his body as she moves hers along his.

The fabrics of their clothes cause friction between them, a barrier that somehow is but isn’t. They tell each other of beauty without words, without hesitation.

Katara’s hands are on his chest, his back, wiping the rain from his bare skin. She seeks him, she tastes him.

The first rumble of thunder shudders through them as she pulls down his pants. It’s as if lighting shoots through him when he feels her lips close around his erection. Her free hand moves with her, and he is suddenly so overwhelmed at how good she feels that he does not realize that he is practically shouting it.

When he finishes, he is met with the captivating view of her thumbing what is left of him from her lower lip.

He rises to meet her, grasping to her back and putting his whole self into her. His mouth is on her temple when she lets out a contented sigh.

“You’re all those things you think I am and more,” he murmurs, and she holds onto him, ever closer. Nearer and nearer. Two halves of the same whole.

Seven years together and he is still amazed by her.

“I know you’re all those things,” she quakes. She tugs at the sleeve of her robe until it’s completely off her.

He smirks on her jawline. He pulls as the drawstring that holds her breasts together in their bindings. “We can agree to disagree,” he says reverently. The bindings fall into their laps. “You are so much more.”

He brings her to the ground this time. Her hair pools around her head like a halo and he thinks she is the most beautiful person he has ever seen.

Katara shakes her head, and there is a soft smile on her face as he descends upon her. “You’re my equal,” she responds, panting. She’s shuddering with ecstasy as finally, Aang repays her.

His fingers are inside, and then his tongue and his everything. Aang takes joy in giving the love of his life the happiness he knows she deserves, and even the roaring of the typhoon that churns outside cannot deter him from that.

[hahawhatislife]

Flowers (Mha drabble four)

[Please read all of the post's tags before reading. Thank you.]

A little dark this time. Including my new 'seven hours of mandated clinical death' idea for Moone. (First person pov this time; you read most of the story as Moone!)

I apologize for ooc-ness in advance!

(again, "different language text", please and thank you) :)

---------------------------------

I couldn't see. That was the first thing I noticed. The next thing I noticed was that my hands were tied very uncomfortably behind my back. My ankles weren't tied, thankfully. I tugged at the binds on my hands gently. Oh, that's going to be sore later...

The smell of rot and decay reached me just before my blindfold was taken off. As my eyes focused, I tried to speak, but couldn't. Great, I must have a gag too. At least it only tastes like cloth and not anything else, I thought bitterly.

Finally, my eyesight cleared. Shigaraki was standing right in front of me. Toga was off to the side polishing one of her many knives, and Dabi wasn't in my line of sight. Probably behind me and to my left, if the smell of soot was anything to go by. Lo and behold, he did indeed step into my line of sight from my left, a small azure flame already lit in his hand.

I took as deep a breath as I could, then let it out slowly. This is going to be fun.

Shigaraki laid his hand on my arm, pinkie raised. I tensed and increased my breathing a little, but only to make them believe I was scared. I kept my head down and gaze fixed on Shigaraki's hand, biding myself time to build a terrified light in my eyes. I knew someone would see through it eventually, but I needed all the time I could get.

The 'conversation' between us passed in a blur. They never took my gag off, convinced my voice had something to do with my 'quirk'. They weren't exactly wrong, but they didn't need to know that. Eventually, Shigaraki got frustrated with my sparse, shaky answers.

He set his pinkie down. I screamed bloody murder through my gag, and willed the shadows under my skin to make it look like my arm was necrotizing under his fingers. To my surprise, it worked.

They left me to 'recover', but I knew that there was someone outside the door, waiting for me to try to escape. That won't be happening anytime in the near future. I could feel my need to rest creeping up on me, and fast. I'll go into 'hibernation mode' soon.

A plan started to form in my head. I didn't like it, but it would have to work. This'll be painful, I thought.

Hanahaki it is. Colored flowers would take too much time, so black flowers will have to do. I willed my shadows, my 'quirk', to manifest on my skin and in my hair. Black Fritillaria on my hands and arms, and a bit on my shoulders and the edges of my face. Some dotting my legs, just to be thorough. I grew a cluster of them to line the falsely necrotized skin on my arm. The little bells brushed at my clothing and skin, painful silk things that sprouted from my body.

Now to the bigger ones. Black Dahlia in my hair and covering the fake wound on my arm, completing the flowery patchwork. Clusters of them bloomed on my eyelids, cheeks, and throat. I knew they wrapped around my face like a blindfold, because all I could see were their dark crimson petals. More of them sprouted on my shoulders, wrists, chest, back, and legs, one right above my heart like a macabre boutonnière.

I stopped my fabrication of flowers, panting lightly. It hurt and felt like thousands of tiny needles all across my body.

I coughed. Once, then twice, then more as I fabricated petals of both flowers in my throat and mouth for me to cough out. I bit my tongue so the flowers would be coated in blood. Shadows slowly materialized in my chest, creating a wheezing sound whenever I managed to gasp in a breath.

I was hacking now. It sounded like I was coughing my lungs out. I kept fabricating flower petals in my throat. I'm going to have a sore throat after this. It'll be a miracle if I don't lose my voice for a few days.

The door to my room opened. Finally! Took you long enough to get concerned. The smell of smoke hovered over me. Dabi must be the one frantically untying my gag.

The smell of decay and old blood entered the room. Toga and Shigaraki must be here. I was still hacking, but now my back was being braced by Dabi. Who knew you had a soft side, eh buddy?

I couldn't hear them very well. My vision was going dark. They sounded panicked. Dabi gripped me a little tighter. He must be saying something like 'you better not die'. How sweet. I curled up and spat out more flower petals and blood.

I gave a few last coughs. I fell into my hibernation, and felt my heart stop.

----------

Dabi kneeled over their hostage, who was frantically choking out flower petals and blood. Her face was turning blue. She hasn't gotten a proper breath in the last fifteen minutes.

Shigaraki and Toga stood in shock in the doorway. "Are you gonna get Compress and Kurogiri or what?" he yelled. Toga nodded nervously and ran out. Shigaraki was asking questions, almost seeming nervous.

The girl in his arms started wheezing more. She was still coughing. Crimson dripped down her chin and pooled on the floor in front of her, dark purple and red flower petals matching the ones on her body coming our of her mouth in waves.

"C'mon kid, breathe." She wheezed and coughed weakly. She started going limp. She was still coughing.

Dabi felt panic root in his heart. "No! Kid, you better not die on us!" She curled up and spat out more flowers. She was still coughing.

Compress burst through the door. "What wrong with the girl?!"

Dabi braced her back more, hoping to help her.

She was still coughing.

Just as Compress started to push his hands away, she coughed. Blood and flowers flew out of her mouth. She fell still.

Her shallow, wheezing breaths quieted under Dabi's fingers. Pressing his ear to her back where her heart would be revealed no pulse. Her neck didn't give him a pulse either. Her wrist gave him the same results.

Dabi shooed Compress' hands away. He laid her down on the floor gently, making sure not to get her dirty with her own blood. He was numb.

Dabi looked up, looked at Shigaraki and said, "She's dead."

--------------

They decided to give her back to the heroes. She deserved a proper burial, at least. Dabi carried the girl to the arranged meeting place.

He looked up at the old warehouse, then at the sea to his right. He breathed in the salty air, then carefully opened the warehouse's door.

Eraserhead and his intern stood inside. He stepped in, feeling his quirk get erased. The purple-haired kid was surprisingly composed, seeing as Dabi held his dead classmate. The kid asked him a question. Reluctantly, he answered, feeling himself fall under the kid's Quirk. It was one of the terms agreed upon, after all. He was asked a few questions.

"Do you have a weapon?"

"No."

"Is there anyone waiting to ambush us?"

"No."

"Has Moone's body been tampered with since her death?"

"No."

"Give her body to Eraserhead, then exit the warehouse."

Dabi walked over to Eraserhead and gently gave the girl to him. He then turned and padded out of the warehouse. Once outside, the kid's Quirk lifted from his mind. Dabi shook his head and scowled.

He looked at the warehouse. He walked off, back to the base.

Dabi stopped by a flower shop on his way back. He bought three flowers; a gardenia, a hydrangea, and a lily.

Once in the base, he returned to the room they had held her in. The one she had died in, his mind supplied.

He placed the flowers, tied up neatly in a white and yellow ribbon, on the chair she sat in. Dabi stared at them, arms crossed.

He left the room, door closing with a soft 'click!'.

Elsewhere, Toga hummed an American song she heard on the radio. "Somewhere over the rainbow..."

Bonus:

Heart. Slowly beating, but getting faster every second.

"Sensei! She's waking up!"

Lungs. Gently testing the confines of my chest, relearning how to work.

"Good. She has a lot of explaining to do."

Brain. Waking up, neurons firing like a gunshot salute.

My eyes fluttered open. I took my first wheezing breath in seven hours, clearing the shadows from my performance out of my chest. My fingers twitched, itching to pick the black ruby petals off my eyes. They were too weak to do anything right now.

Someone, likely Aizawa based on the smell of coffee and polyester, lifted my shoulders up and pressed a warm cup to my mouth. "Drink, problem child. The sooner you can speak, the better."

I drank the warm honey water he gave me. Ah, perfect thing to soothe my throat.

I batted his hand away after a few minutes of on and off drinking, taking the mug from him and settling it on my chest. The warmth of it seeped into my body, waking me up even faster.

My fingers felt like they were awake now. I started picking flowers from my face and skin, handing them to Shinsou once I couldn't hold any more. I continued picking flowers from my hair once I was done with my face.

Aizawa cleared his throat. "Is there something you want to explain, problem child?"

"I was gonna go into 'hibernation mode' anyway, why not fake my death in front of them and have them drop my body somewhere? I didn't expect them to return me to you, though." I rasped.

I smiled weakly. Aizawa just pinched the bridge of his nose.

I continued picking flowers off my skin. The one above my heart, the ones on my neck, what I could reach of my shoulders and back, my arms, everything I could get my hands on.

Shinsou piped up. "How... How did you get these flowers to grow on you?"

I smirked. I'm about to give this boy a headache, and I don't feel that bad about it. "Oh, it was my 'quirk'," I said casually.

". . . Wait, your what-"

I snorted.

"Damn problem children..." sighed Aizawa.

Shinsou stuttered, "I thought you only had one quirk?!"

"I do!"

"Then how did this- what-"

"Hahaha!!"

[yespolkadotkitty]

Evidence

A Magnus Martinsson one shot, written for @just-the-hiddles writing challenge, with the prompt “a locked room.”

“It’s just like Kurt to lump us with this joke of an assignment,” Magnus grumbled as he led you down a few flight of stairs to the Ystad Police HQ’s evidence room.

“It’s not so bad,” you shrugged, following him to the big oak door separating you both from ten years or more of evidence, all separated into cupboards, boxes and cages, dependent on the category.

Kurt had caught a case that seemed tenuously connected to a cold case from five years ago, involving some stolen books. Magnus had been sent down to find the correct evidence box, and as a recent recruit, you’d offered to help. You wanted to find your way around the evidence room, and besides. Why pass up a chance to sneak some extra looks at Magnus’ wild golden curls and bottomless, seaglass blue eyes?

It didn’t hurt that he cut a fine figure in jeans and his habitual button-down shirt, sleeves rolled up to show pleasantly tanned forearms.

You sometimes wondered how those arms would feel around you. But Magnus had been the consummate gentleman, never giving you any reason to think that he regarded you as attractive.

Shame.

Magnus turned the key - still so behind on the times down here in the Evidence Dungeon, as the team lovingly called it - and the oak door opened under his hand.

The automatic strip lighting flicked on as you both entered the room. Magnus lifted a box down from a nearby shelf and used it has a doorstop to let the air in from the corridor while you worked.

You followed the tall detective as he examined row after row of boxes, his long fingers dancing over labels as he muttered to himself in that voice - pure James Bond layered with just enough sin to make you fantasise about it.

You’d spent a few evenings lately fantasising about your name in his voice, his body over yours. But the climax by your own hand was unsatisfying.

You needed to make a move, or forever hold your peace.

“Maybe here?” You took the opposite aisle. “This place is unreal.”

“Yeah. We really need to take a proper inventory and clear it out.”

You chuckled. “Watch it. If you suggest it, guess whose desk it will fall on.”

Magnus rolled his eyes as he glanced at you. “Kurt would love that. The bastard.”

Frowning, you thought of Kurt’s sad eyes lately, the age on his face every time he found another dead body. “He’s not so bad.”

Scowling, Magnus opened another box and closed it again on a huff. “I know. But he treats me like a rookie. Like I can’t handle my job.”

You crossed the aisle to him. “He’s frustrated by your….”

Magnus turned to face you. “My what?” His eyebrow was raised, the hint of a smile tugging at his poet’s mouth. His lips always looked kissable. It was very distracting when you were sat facing his desk, trying to do paperwork.

He spoke on the phone a lot and that voice, like sin and sex and red wine and velvet, did not help you focus on dry regulation reports.

“Your sort of… lack of a filter,” you finished.

His brows rose to his hairline. “I beg your pardon.”

The comical expression on his face made you laugh. “You know. Sometimes you just say things without thinking. Start doing things in his space. Go off on a tangent. You’re brilliant, Magnus. He knows that. He just wants to rein you in a bit.”

Magnus searched your gaze for a moment. “And do you agree?”

Trapped in his azure gaze, there was suddenly very little air in the coldly clinical space. You became very aware of his scent, mint and coffee and a hint of clean sweat. Your hormones sat up and started to beg.

The door slammed and you whipped around.

“Doorstop failed,” Magnus noted. “I’ve got the key, don’t worry.” He cupped your shoulder. “You were about to say….?”

You met his gaze again, trying not to look at his mouth; trying not to think about how much you wanted to taste him. 

“I’d like to rein you in,” you whispered. “But not quite in the same way as Kurt.”

He dipped his head. “Do tell, darling.”

The endearment in his voice did you in. He was so tall and handsome as all hell, all legs for days and angelic curls topping a striking face with old-soul eyes, and you wanted him more than you wanted your next breath.

You fisted your hands in his white linen shirt and yanked him close, sealing your mouth over his.

Magnus let out a surprised gasp, but he recovered quickly, his arms banding around you, pulling you against his leanly muscled body.

You whispered his name and then his tongue licked into your mouth, stoking the fire that, in some ways, had been burning ever since the day you’d met. He tasted faintly of coffee with the sweet edge of mint, and it was addictive.

Impatient now, you tugged his shirt out of his jeans and slid your hands up his torso. His skin was warm and smooth and you thrilled at the play of muscle under your greedy palms.

“Fuck,” Magnus bit off, and jerkily pulled your sweater over your head, breaking the kiss for a few moments. You wore only a bra underneath and his gaze dropped to your chest for a hot second.

You reached behind you and undid the clasp, letting the bra fall the way of your sweater. You took his hands and put them where you wanted them.

His expression one of reverence, Magnus played with your breasts, thumbing the nipples as pleasure zinged through you.

You sucked in a breath as he shoved boxes aside and gave you a boost up to sit on one of the wide metal shelves in the silent room. He moved between your legs and bent his head to gently lave and then suck at one nipple and then the other. You arched your back, encouraging him, tangling your fingers in that gorgeous  tumble of blond curls.

“Magnus….”

You needed to touch him. Now. With some difficultly, you unbuttoned his shirt and slipped it off him. His lean frame was magnificent in the light, all planes and angles, and you stroked his greedily.

He lifted his head from your breast, his expression a hangdog one. “I don’t have anything on me. But I can still make it good for you.”

Your heart bumped. “If you’re sure.”

With a wicked grin that made your pulse race, he unbuttoned your smart work trousers . You braced your hands on his shoulders and he slid the trousers and your plain grey lace knickers to your ankles.

He pressed a kiss to your thigh and then knelt between your legs. His breath whispered over your most private place as he gazed at you, stroking a finger through your folds. 

“Goodness me,” he observed. “Is this for me?”

You choked out his name as he replaced his finger with his tongue. Your head fell back as he started to do fuck knew what down there. The pleasure spiralled up through your belly and radiated out in waves.

At some point you became aware of Magnus’ shallow pants, and looked down to see him stroking himself. The sight overloaded you and you grabbed him under the arms, pulling him up to face you.

He claimed your mouth in a fierce kiss and you tasted yourself. Impatient, you wrapped both hands around his erection and stroked, finding the pace he liked, as he finished you with his talented fingers. You arched desperately into his touch as he stroked you in circles. Your body bowed as the pleasure peaked, and you were dimly aware of his hoarse groan as he spilled into your hand, his cock jerking in your fist.

You came back to reality together, your breathing calming as Magnus stroked your back, his palm warm between your shoulders.

“Successfully reined me in?” Magnus murmured.

You laughed. “Let you loose, more like.” You glanced at the door. “We should get back to work. And then back upstairs.”

“Course.” He looked disappointed, then pressed a quick kiss to your lips. “If you’ve got no plans tonight, then…”

“Sure.” You smiled, suddenly shy even though you’d just ridden his face.

“I-” Magnus tucked himself back in and then patted his pockets, his smile dropping abruptly. “Oh, shit. The key.”

You fumbled back into your own clothes. “You mean the key?”

“To the door, yes. It must have fallen out around here somewhere…”

A chuckle bubbled up in your throat. Magnus aimed a glare at you, but then he smiled, and then it turned into a laugh. “Well, there’s no mobile signal down here.” He trailed a finger down your neck, his expression turning mischievous. “Why don’t we make the most of being locked in..?”

You didn’t find the evidence Kurt had asked for until much later.

***

regular taglist @myoxisbroken @hopelessromanticspoonie

And I think @villainousshakespeare might like this too :)