#my back hurts my arms.... and i got my cartilage pierced and it hurts so bad i didnt think it would :( and my head hurts and i woke up at 9

[swordsandholly]

Cherry Bomb - tattoo parlor au anthology

MDNI | poly 141 x fem fat reader | masterlist

Part 2: Piercings and Puns

“Pleeaaasse?” Johnny whines, pressing his hands together and giving you the biggest, sparkliest puppy dog look you could imagine.

You roll your eyes. “No.”

“Please! My two o’clock cancelled an’ I’m so bored!” He flops over the counter, arms dangling right above the appointment books. You pointedly ignore the size of his biceps.

“I’m not letting you pierce me just because you’re bored.” You scoff. “Now shoo, Simon’s got an appointment coming in soon.”

“But ye barely have any!” He argues. “All I’m askin’ fer is a wee ear. No’ even a nipple!”

A shocked amalgamation of a bark, laugh, and scoff forces it’s way out of you at that. “It’s still a no!”

Johnny groans, but at least moves away from the counter. Unfortunately, he takes the opportunity to circle around behind you, pinching the cartilage of your ear. “C’mon, ol’ righty’s beggin’ fer a conch.”

The intercom buzzes before you can respond. You swat Johnny away with one hand while pressing the speaker button with the other. “Hello?”

“I’ve go’ an appointment with Ghost.” A man’s voice drifts through. You blink dumbly for half a moment. You still haven’t gotten used to Simon’s social media and booking moniker - he doesn’t like giving his real name out much, apparently.

You buzz him in. Johnny is still hanging around the desk even when you leave to get Simon - making your way down the shirt hall to his studio. The large man stands in front of his stencil maker, back turned to you.

You knock on his door frame quietly. “Your guy’s here.”

“Be out in a moment.” He mumbles, focused on whatever he’s doing. You don’t really know the steps by heart, but you do know that there’s something so special about watching artists perform this repetitive song and dance. This rhythm they know by heart. Skilled hands enacting each step with careful precision.

He’s so hard to read. Big and bulky but calm as the night sea. You want him to like you, but you know badgering him certainly won’t get you there. So, you turn on your heal and head back out. When you return to the front, Johnny’s disappeared back into his room.

You suck your teeth and lean back in the desk chair, rolling your earlobe between your thumb and index finger. It’s not a bad offer, really. You only have two earlobe piercings on each side. Wouldn’t hurt to add a helix… you’ve also wanted to get your thirds done for a while. Work your way up. You glance at the clock. Simon won’t be done with his client for at least an hour or so, and you’ve balanced the registers for the moment. Both Kyle and John are out today, so they won’t need anything.

It wouldn’t hurt… well, not metaphorically.

With a sigh you stand, wandering your way to Johnny’s space. The door’s wide open, and his head snaps up the moment you step close like a sixth sense. “Takin’ me up on my offer, bonnie?”

You roll your eyes. “Guess I am.”

“Whit d’ye want?” Johnny practically skips around his station, pulling out wrapped, sanitized tools and placing them on a rolling tray. He pats the center of the padded table in the middle of the room.

“Uh, been wanting to do my thirds for a while.” You shrug. “If you have time for two.”

“Och, I’ve got all the time in the world fer ye, hen.” Johnny grins, pulling up in front of you and grabbing a marker.

He’s so close as he places the marks on your ears, warm fingers feeling for the best spots. A thumb traces the back of your left ear down just to the beginning of your jaw briefly. Fuck, he smells good. Warm musk with hints of citrus around the edges. The way he tucks your hair back, hands framing your face as he lines up the dots, is so oddly intimate compared to the other times you’ve gotten pierced. He chews at his lip in concentration, pulling at the scar on his chin while turning your head back forth a couple times.

“Think I’ve got it.” He grins and steps back. “Have a look.”

You take the mirror, casually checking but not paying too much attention. You trust him to do right by you. “Looks good.”

“A’right. Now the fun part.” He grins, tearing open the pack of tools and a two new needles.

“Is this fun?” You frown, squirming a little at the size of the needle.

“It’s always fun t’poke a pretty girl.”

You roll your eyes, a growing theme between you two it seems. “Oh, you thought that was real clever, didn’t you? Had that in your pocket a while?”

“Why donnae ye reach in an‘ check?” He murmurs, leaning close to clamp your left ear. You’re half tempted to tell him it’s mean to tease a fat girl like this - but you don’t think he means anything like that by it. He’s just a flirt by nature.

Before you can answer, he shoves the needle through your ear. You stiffen, a strained noise bubbling up out of your throat.

Johnny coos as he slips the earring into your ear. “One doon.”

“Uh-huh.” You sniffle. Not that it hurts badly, just a basic physical reaction. Johnny still gives you an empathetic smile.

The second goes quicker, Johnny locked in on his work. It’s interesting, seeing how intense they get. You Is it odd to wish someone would look at you like that? With that much focus and passion?

“There ye go…good girl.” He murmurs in that deep rumble that would have you squirming if you didn’t still have a needle through your ear. “Doin’ so good f’me...”

“You’re a devil, MacTavish.”

Johnny just chuckles, knowing full well exactly what he’s doing. He steps back to look at the final result after slipping the second stud into your ear. They feel hot - like two small ovens on either side of your head.

“If it weren’t for the piercings I’d think ye were blushing, hen.”

“You’re gonna get yourself slapped one of these days.” You scoff, sliding off the table.

“Wouldnnae be the first time.”

You find yourself rolling your eyes for the millionth time.

You grunt, squatting low in an attempt to pick the last of the parlor trash. It’s not that you mind, trash was part of your duties from the start, but holy shit do these boys put bricks in their bins? You’d think tattoos would make light trash. Especially after the sharps are disposed of separately.

“Solid?” Simon appears in the hall, eyes flicking over you. You still can’t tell how he feels about you. Neutral, you suppose. At least that’s all you can glean from behind his seemingly permanent black surgical mask.

“Ya.” You sigh, letting the bag drop and leaning back to stretch. “Just heavy. Swear y’all aren’t throwing rocks in these just to fuck with me?”

You give him a grin. Simon just cocks an eyebrow - exaggerated by the small piercing lining it. You think, maybe the slight shaking of his shoulder is a laugh. In combination won’t he crinkles in the corners of his eyes. Maybe not.

“‘ere.” Simon grunts, closing the short distance between you quickly before snatching up the bag like it weighs almost nothing.

You stutter, following after him toward the back exit. “You don’t have to-“

“Not a problem.” He grunts, tossing the thing over the side of the bin. He quietly leads you back inside, locking the door behind you “Johnny go’ you already?”

When you frown in confusion he points to his ears.

“Oh! Yeah.” You shrug, leading the way back to front desk to finish up your closing duties. “He’s insistent. I’d wanted them for a while anyway so I figured there’s no harm.”

“Give ‘im an inch...” He sighs, pointing to the black bar bridge piercing at the apex of his nose. “Somehow talked me into this shite.”

You tilt your head. “Yeah? I think it suits you.”

It really does. You can’t see most of his nose form under the mask but the arc of it leading up to bridge is strong, the piercing settling into the space nicely.

Simon breaks the silence. “You about done?”

“Almost. Just gotta check the ATM against the book real quick.” You nod.

He stares down at you for a moment, glancing out the semi-opaque window, now black with the night sky. There aren’t many street lamps on this side of town. You can only see a very faint glow from the one down by the car park.

“I’ll wait.” Simon settles his wide frame into Kyle’s usual chair.

“Oh! No you don’t have to! I’m sure you’re tired-“

“Wouldn’t feel right leavin’ you alone in the dark.” He cuts you off.

“It’s not a far walk-“

He scoffs. “Definitely not leaving you to walk alone.”

You sink your teeth into your lip, debating briefly on arguing. Based on his comfortable lean and crossed arms, it’s probably best to just let him walk you home. He looks so wide like that, veins prominent across his forearms. Fuck, you gotta find a boyfriend or booty call or something in this city. Anything to stop the temptation to stare at your hot coworkers.

It doesn’t take long to finish up your final chores. You turn all but one light off, wiring down from the bright overheads glaring at you all day. You glance over at Simon a few times while locking up the ATM, his covered face lit up by the light of his phone.

He leads you out of the shop once you’re finished, locking the door behind you and trying it a couple times to be sure. “Which way?”

“Uh, down here. It’s only twenty minutes.” You murmur, feeling guilty that you’ve kept him out extra late. You shove your hands in your hoodie pockets as you walk, the only sound on the street made up of your footsteps and some distant cars.

“What falls but never gets hurt?” Simon asks suddenly.

You frown. “Huh?”

“What falls but never gets hurt?”

You squint at him, trying to decipher anything from his face in the low light. You get nothing but a calm, warm gaze resting on you.

His eyes crinkle in the corners again. “Rain.”

“Pffft-“ You choke, caught off guard. “That’s such a lame pun.”

“Oh? I’ve got a better one.” Simon says, a smirk in his tone. “Why’d the mother clam scold her children?”

You chew your lip. God, you’re too literal to be clever enough for stupid puns and riddles. It doesn’t help that your head is spinning from this brick shithouse, incredibly attractive and intimidating man spitting popsicle puns at you.

“They were being shellfish.”

“Oh fuck off!” You shove at his arm playfully without thinking. He gives, let’s you push him slightly before you stiffen. “S-sorry! I don’t-“

“Nothin’ to apologize for.” The corners of his eyes crinkle deeper. Yeah, definitely a smile. You answer it with one of your own.

[thefandomthings]

Piercings

Paring: Bakugo x f!reader, Kirishima x f!reader

Warnings: Blood, slightly suggestive (Bakugo), cussing

Notes: Y'all, I got my nose and upper ear pierced recently so why not write a fic about it? I apologize if its rushed and if the boys are Ooc and for any typos

Bakugo:

"Do you think Bakugo will like it?" You ask Mina, walking into the dorms. Mina gives you a reassuring smile.

"Of course he will, he's your boyfriend after all!" You nod feeling anxious to show him. "But my Ex-boyfriend hated my ear piercing, what if Bakugo doesn't like this one?" You grasp her arm in attempt to calm yourself down.

Your last relationship was your first, and it was great till you got piercings. He didn't like the idea of them or tattoos, preferring you kept your face/body clean. But you refused to take them out and he broke up with you a few weeks before coming to UA.

"Stop worrying babes, I know he'll love it!" She pats your arm, her frizzly pink hair bouncing as she walks beside you. You nod, your lip raw from you chewing on it anxiously.

"Hey guys!" Mina waves to Denki and Kirishima. "Guess what we did while we were at the mall!" She squeals. You face felt hot as your classmates turned their attention to you and Mina.

"Wow Y/n, did you get your nose pierced?" Kirishima looks at your nose with fascination, Denki doing the same.

"Yes I did!" You smile and turn to face them, the orange stud sitting perfectly in your nose.

"That's awesome! Did it hurt?" Denki went to touch it but you stopped him. "Just a little, and you can't touch it otherwise it'll get infected." You give him a small smile.

"Did you get it in orange for Bakubro?" Kirishima smirks at you, your face flushes with embarrassment.

"Maybe..."

"Get me for what?!?" Bakugo pushes past your classmates and stands next to Kirishima. "What are you dumb extras goin' on about?"

"Look for yourself Bro." Kirishima grins and points to you and your new piercing. Bakugo rolls his eyes with a tsk and walks closer to you.

He approached you, you could feel his breath on your face, as his calloused hand grabbing your chin gently while he inspects the small piece of jewelry. You could feel your heart in your throat, your face buzzing with a rose tink. You've never gotten used to this feeling, the feeling of him being so close to you, the feeling of excitement when he hugs you or brings you closer to him; its unreal to you.

Bakugo looks up from the piercing and into your big eyes. You hold his eyes for as long as you can before it's too much for you, your eyes averting to his facial features instead.

He lets out a grunt while grabbing your hand and practically dragging you towards his room. You stomach was in knots as you followed.

Did you not like it?

Was he gonna break up with you?

You gasp, your back pressed against the door of his room, he plants his right hand next to your head, and the left holds your face. You look up at him, his eyes are are slanted as he looks down at you a lazy grins across his face.

"Why didn't ya say anythin' princess?" He hums moving your hair out of your face.

"I wanted to surprise you" You smile shyly. "And it seems you were surprised".

He stares at you a little longer, watching the way you subconsciously move closer to him. Your pretty doe eyes look up at him with such Innocences, it makes his heart leap.

But he can't ignore the feelings of hunger creeping up on him, wanting to touch you all over, to mark you as his. But he doesn't have to worry so much anymore, the bright orange stud is enough for everyone to know you are his and only his.

He pulls you close by the waist, his hand firmly gripping your hip as his other hand opens his door.

He surely did like it and he made sure to show you how much he did.

Kirishima:

"1!"

"2!"

"3!"

Your nose stung and burned as she pushes the needle through the cartilage of your nose. You gripped the chair in pain, your eyes squeezed closed. Small tears pooled in the corner of your eyes before falling down your cheeks.

"Y/n? Are you alright?" Kirishima asked nervously watching the blood pool out of your nose. You gave a nod and a thumbs up.

"Are you sure babe?" He asked once again, your face twisting in pain while she wiggled the piercing into the small hole, pushing against your nose hard.

"Y-Yep! I'm good!" You reassure him once the piercing is in. The piecer dabs a tissue on your cheek once you open your eyes, allowing the remaining tears fall.

"Sorry Hun, the jewelry wouldn't go in, but you're all good now." She smiled and cleaned up the needle and bloody tissues.

"Okeydokey, no worries" You thanked her, paid and left hand-in-hand with Kirishima out of the tattoo parlor.

You could feel Kirishimas eyes on you the whole time you walked to the food court in the mall, his eyes sparkling with curiosity. You smiled up at him, your nostrils flaring making a stinging pain shoot through your nose.

"Ouch..." You wrinkled your nose and gently touched the jewelry. Kirishima look at you concerned.

"Are you doing ok? Do you need anything?" Kirishima led you over to a table and bent down next to you and examined your nose.

Your eyes scanned over his face, drinking in every little detail. You watched his small, dark eyebrows furrow in focus. His eyes are slightly slanted, a small scar above his right eye and his lips are slightly dry and cracked but pink and plump. His face is almost round, not very many sharp details except for his jawline and his pointed chin. And his eyes are as red as ruby's, sparkling in the dull light of the mall.

You and gently caresses his face, he looks like a puppy melting into your touch. Kirishima snuggles into you hand. He grabs your wrist and kisses the inside of it, his eyes never leaving yours.

"You know, that piercing really fits you baby" He says quietly while bringing your face close to his. Your face tingles with a blush, you eyes dilating as he comes closer to your lips.

His lips brush against yours in a teasing way, the way he holds your head doesn't allow you to lean forward. A sly smile crosses his face, his eyes scrunching in a smile.

"Eiji, I want to kiss you.' Kirishima laughs and presses a long kiss to your lips.

When he pulls away his eyes avert to you nose again, his thumbs rubbing back and forth across your cheeks. You lean forward and brush your nose against his.

"I love you...s'fuckin much."

[storm-angel989]

how would vox and the other vees react to his teenage daughter getting piercing and tattoos without them knowing?

Hi friend,

I like to think that Vox has better control of his emotions than Val- take a peek at what I came up with!

<3 Mandy

Vox could think of at least sixteen ways to handle the situation with an instantaneous result. Killing the person who dared to put a needle to the skin of his underaged daughter for one. An all girls boarding school, set in the furthest ring of hell. At minimum, screaming and yelling with he promise of infinite grounding would at least get his anger and disappointment out in the open.

When Velette called him down to her studio, he expected to be handed a file or six. Or more likely, be bitched at for some reason beyond his control. But when Velvette greeted him with little more than a command to follow her, and led him towards her office, he knew it was something much more pressing. Outside the door, Velvette paused.

“You can’t get mad, Vox,” she told him quietly. “You can’t. We need to handle it so she comes to us again. Got it? Promise me.”

“Uh, alright. I promise?” Vox replied. 

“Good. Now take a breath and keep that promise,” Velvette said as she pushed the door open. 

Inside, his daughter sat on top of Velvette’s desk. Wrapped loosely in a cotton robe and surrounded by tissues, Vox felt his heart drop. 

“Baby? Baby, what’s wrong?” He asked as he rushed towards her. He cupped her chin and tilted her head up to face him. “Talk to Daddy.” 

To his surprise, she shook her head vehemently. 

“You need to show your Dad, so we can get you to a doctor,” Velvette said gently. “Come on, he won’t be mad. Promise.”

She looked to him and to his surprise, his usually feisty teenage daughter had an expression that begged for confirmation of her words. In the back of his mind, worry began to form. A heartbeat of silence. A sharp elbow from Velvette and he winced. 

“That’s right, Reader,” he said finally. “I promise I won’t be mad.” 

With hesitation, Vox watched as Reader slowly turned away from him as she lowered her robe. Vox bit back as gasp at the sight of red inflamed skin sprawled across her lower back. Black lines rose to form an incoherent pattern and here and there he could barely make out parts of a word. Several words, perhaps. The broken up image of a butterfly. 

He felt his temper flare and Velvette’s hand tight against his shoulder. He took a deep breath and tried his best to keep his voice steady.

“What happened?” 

“I, my friends and I were at the mall and we decided to get matching tattoos,” she mumbled in response. 

“Where? How? You’re not old enough to get a tattoo, or a piercing without parental consent,” Vox said as he carefully examined her back. 

“Some guy in the back of the mall. He did my cartilage too,” Reader muttered as she lifted up her hair to reveal swollen, black and blue skin. “It’s all…it hurts, I’m sorry Daddy.” 

Vox couldn’t believe his daughter had done something so egregiously stupid. Gingerly, she pulled the robe over her back and turned to face him. 

“Daddy? I…”

“First things first. Let’s get you down to Val’s studio and have the doctor on staff take a look. You’re probably going to need a round or two of IV antibiotics and then we can go from there.” Vox said as calmly as he could. “We can talk about the rest later. For now, let's get you taken care of.”

Vox watched as his daughter broke down into tears. Instinctually, he reached out and wrapped her in his arms. 

“I know it hurts, baby, but we’ll get you some antibiotics. And probably a pain killer and you’ll feel much better,” he said as he held her. “Shush, sweetheart. Daddy will take care of you.” 

“She’s not just crying from pain, Vox,” Velvette said softly. “She’s afraid. Of disappointing you.”

Vox swallowed and carefully kissed the top of her head. “Honey, you know I love you. That won’t ever change, I promise.” He paused, “I know you’re too old to be carried, but if it hurts too much to walk.” 

To his surprise, his teenager leaned into him. As carefully as he could, he lifted her up into his arms.

“Don’t worry baby,” he said softly. “Daddy will always love you.”

[winking]

i’m exhausted

[ellitx]

Beguilement | Albedo x Reader

Klee asks for Albedo’s help to make bombs with her.

word count: 2.9k

           “What are you doing?”

            Albedo peered at you from the corner of his eyes, raising an eyebrow why you were holding his cheek. His work ceased when he felt your warm hand touched his face, bringing down the papers on the desk.

            “What am I doing?” You echoed with a slight tilt of your head. “I’m checking if you’re okay. You’re overworking yourself again.” You sighed, placing your hands on your hips. 

            “I’m not.”

           He latched his gloved hand on yours and bring it down back to your side. “Hm…” Your [eye color] eyes had a tint of a doubtful frown as you pout. Seeing the Chief Alchemist stuck in his research lab worried you. It’s been a while since you’ve last seen him and that’s why you’re here today.

            He didn’t mind when you waltzed in suddenly while he was mixing different kinds of herbs. He knew you wouldn’t cause a ruckus inside considering how dangerous his and Sucrose’s works are.

            “Klee really wanted to play with you, you know.” You started and took a sit on a nearby chair in his workshop. 

            “And so are you.” He placed back the various types of equipment to their rightful place and chuckled when he noticed your cheeks reddened. 

            “I—!”

            “Albedo!!” The door slammed open surprising the two teens. The said male felt someone glomped onto his leg. He looked down and saw the Spark Knight wrapped her little arms on his leg so tightly, her ruby eyes scintillating so brightly that was donned with a big grin.

            “I saw the sign wasn’t in your door anymore!! Does that mean you’ll play with Klee?!”

            Albedo rested his hand on the top of her head but threw a confused glimpse at her. He’s a hundred percent sure last time he checked, the “Experiment in Progress” sign was still hanging to let everyone know he’s busy.

            His aquamarine eyes landed on you who was innocently reading his notes, awing at his written discoveries and sketches of a place you've never seen before. His fingers pinched the bridge of his nose, heaving a sigh. The Kreideprinz knelt down before Klee and ruffled her big red hat whose eyes were bright as the sun and smile so innocent.

            “Yes. My research is almost done so might as well take a break.”

            Your ears perked up at his words and lifted your head away from the notebook. “If that’s so, then I wanna make more bombs with you!!” The child tugged his lab coat and pulled him to the table, laying her hefty backpack on the chair. 

            She let out her collection of bombs to the Chief Alchemist and stretched her arms to showcase her invention. “Ta-da!! I tried to make a different Jumpty Dumpty!” Albedo placed his fingers on his chin as he inspected the object.

            You peered over his shoulder and eyes glimmered admiring the cute little red bunny device. “Woah!! This one seems different from your usual Jumpty Dumpty, Klee!” You leaned against him to get a closer look. 

            The blonde child giggled but let out a yelp when she felt that her feet weren’t touching the ground. Her small hands were now laying on your shoulder as you carry her small stature in your arms.

            The Alchemist’s focus was now on the timer hidden behind Jumpty Dumpty, surprising him. “It’s dangerous if we keep the bombs here. How about we go to Stormterror’s Lair to test it out?” His suggestion made the two girls looked at him with sparkling eyes and nodded eagerly.

            You put down Klee and helped her pack her stuff back inside her backpack. Both of you were chanting happily making the corner of his lips tugged upwards at the adorable scene. 

            “Well then,” He said, taking their attention. “Let’s get going.”

            Before Master Jean scolds us. He said to himself, sweat dropping.

            Both of you threw your arms in the air to cheer. Before you head off, you hung the strap of Klee’s bag on your shoulder and patiently waited for her to come to your side. She clutched your hand a bit tightly but one that won’t hurt you.

            Albedo took his own satchel and kept his notebook and some other materials needed in their experiment. He left a little note for Sucrose, letting her know he’ll be away for a while in case she goes looking for him. 

            Once he was ready, the two girls were already outside the room sticking around until he appears. Klee beamed in delight and grabbed his hand tugging both of you together. She was in the middle while you and Albedo were by her side.

            She started humming joyfully and marched towards the exit. 

            “Klee, Albedo, [Name], and Dodoco are off to Stormterror’s Lair!!” You chuckled at her cute declaration whilst she swung both of yours and Albedo’s arms, sauntering to the old ruins to do the experiments.

  —

             “We can try using flaming flower stamen.”

            “Oh, you mean those burning flowers?”

            Albedo nodded as he tinkered with the Jumpty Dumpties, and letting out the contents carefully on the cloth. 

            “There are few scattered around here, so it’ll be no problem for us to find one.” He lifted up his goggles, placing them atop of his head. 

            “Oh! Klee knows all the locations!!” The said girl jumped from her sitting position, raising her hand like how a student wants to be called by their teacher. “There are few around the lair and some almost at the end!”

            “Waaah!! That’s Klee for you!!” You praised her as you pat her head fondly. She giggled hearing your flattery and clasped your hand with hers. “I’ll go look with big sis [Name]!”

            “Ah, wait—!” But before the Chalk Prince can stop them, both of you were already running carelessly in search of the flaming flowers. He sighed in defeat and continued tinkering with the gadgets.

            Not even a minute later, he heard a loud KABOOM and the cries of the hilichurls in the distance. Several monsters flew in the air and slowly dropped onto the ground while some slimes were running for their lives.

            Thank goodness your vision wasn’t Electro or else the elemental reactions between yours and Klee’s attacks will cause massive damage to the ancient city.

            Sighing for the umpteenth time, his focus went back on dabbling with the bomb, pretending he wasn’t involved with their mischievousness.

  —

             “Oh! We should bring some bone samples for Sucrose for her research!” You exclaimed, watching the hilichurls’ bodies disintegrate in the thin air. You picked up the arrowheads and some horns from the ground left by the monsters.

            “Klee will gladly help big sis!” Your shoulders shake with laughter and ruffled her hair. “And I’ll happily accept your offer~”

            “I think she’ll accept anything as long as their bones, right? I did see some of her collections…” You muttered to yourself as you looked around the area to find anything interesting. 

            “Does fish blasting work as well to find bones?” Klee questioned innocently whilst holding her Jumpty Dumpties in her hands ready to throw them away. “No, Klee. Fish blasting is not good. If Master Jean caught us, you’ll be confined again!”

            “B-but… I’m sorry… Please don’t get mad at Klee.” She clamped her hands behind her back, eyes cast downwards turning glossy. Your heartstrings tugged and felt like an arrow pierce right through you, immediately feeling guilty at your words. 

            “Ah… Klee, I’m not mad! I was… I was worried about you, that’s all.” You raised her and carried the little girl between your arms and nuzzled your noses together. Her ruby eyes brightened up and giggled, slithering her arms around your neck to hug closer.

            “I can’t bring myself to get angry at you and Dodoco! I cherish both of you!” 

                      “Is big sis [Name] saying she loves me and Dodoco?” 

            “Absolutely!” You puffed your chest like a proud mom and rested one hand on your hips.

            “Klee and Dodoco love you too!!” 

            The two of you shared a few laughter and wholesome moment. From the corner of your eyes, a camp of hilichurls spotted you both, ready to attack. You shared a glance with the Spark Knight then smiled, sharing the same ideas. 

            “Hilichurl bones would be a good sample for Sucrose’s research!”

  —

             The Chief Alchemist was busy gathering glands from the frogs, carefully extracting the mucous from them. Others would be grossed out seeing this, but for him— it’s almost like an everyday habit for him to perform this.

            He became inquisitive and wondered where you and Klee are. You were just going to gather a few flaming flower stamens, why are you taking so long? 

            Too distracted from his concern for your state as well as Klee’s, he didn’t notice a figure creeping behind him. Albedo’s perception then blackened and a shiver ran down his spine when he felt something blew on his ears and whispered. 

            “Guess who’s back?”

            His fingers wrapped around your wrist and gently pulled down your hand back to your side. His eyes were met with your own [eye color] gems as you smiled down at him. 

            “You’re finally back.”

            “Bzz! Wrong!” Your arms formed an X, indicating his incorrect answer. The Chief Alchemist snorted at your childish antics, failing to see the Pyro-vision user jumped on him.

            “Albedo, Albedo!! We brought the flaming flowers! Oh, and we also got these!!” The child poured out all the contents inside her bag and showed them to him like she won the biggest prize. Various materials were scattered all over the ground; masks, horns, arrowheads, scrolls, and a bone…?

            “So that’s why both of you haven’t come back for a while.” He observed the items gathered together and nodded to himself. He didn’t dare questioned them what and why were there cartilages included. 

            His eyes caught onto the flaming flower stamen. The cores were still emitting heat even though it was already extinguished. This can be a good time to create a flaming essential oil. The needed ingredients were already here, all he needed to do was to create it using alchemy.

            Good thing they don’t need to come back to Mondstadt just to make a simple potion, as long as the Chief Alchemist is with you, he can create anything. He put out a portable alchemic table— one of his inventions— and commenced to perform his alchemy.

            You and Klee watched him crushed the stamen until it turned to small particles. He then poured the extracted frog’s gland and mixed it together. The scent was odd and strong making you almost puke. How in the world can this man handle the smell?!

            Klee almost looked like she was about to faint as she held on to your coat to maintain balance. Albedo apologized and told you you can take the mint grass inside his satchel to get rid of the smell. 

            Wow, he’s already prepared…

            It brought a smile to your face at the thought of it. You rummaged inside his bag and saw the mints were kept inside the ziplock pouch. You motioned for the little girl to come with you, straying away from the Kreideprinz’s works as to not ruin it, and opened the pouch letting the cool smell waft around you.

            You both breathed a sigh at the refreshing air, forgetting the awful smell that lingered inside you minutes ago. Albedo was already done making the essential oil and attentively spewed the liquid in one of Klee’s bombs.

            A small smoke emitted from it and he cautiously set the cover back to its place. 

            “Is it done?” You asked. The male shook his head and threw the device at an empty area to see the result. He told you to stay back as he used his geo skill to cast a shield to all of you. A sound of a clock ticking can be heard from it and the three of you patiently waited for the outcome yet nothing happened.

            “Did it fail…?” Your question was answered when you sensed the ground shook and a massive outburst greeted your view. Your mouth gaped open in shock and awe, watching many sparks flew in the air almost resembling fireworks during Ludi Harpastum Festival.

            Klee was the one who’s more amazed than you, her eyes wide open and crimson orbs sparkling in admiration at the tremendous explosion. 

            “Waah!! Klee has never created a big kaboom like this in her entire life!!” She faced Albedo and tugged his coat repeatedly. “Can you please teach Klee how to make that? Please please please pleeease with a cherry on top?”

            The male furrowed his brows, slightly troubled whether he should accept it or not. He was quiet for a while, still contemplating his decision. His eyes darted to where you were standing to ask for help but when he turned around, you were gone. 

            In his rear vision, he noticed you used your elemental skill to stamped out the burning grass. His face paled and heart raced when you knelt down and slowly approached the small remains from the bomb to touch it.

            Albedo immediately dashed towards you and extended his arm to reach for you. He screamed your name so loudly surprising you. You felt your hand heating up and your instincts kicked in telling you to run away, but even if you do so, a bright light has already blinded your eyes and ears ringing from the loudness of the bomb’s blast.

  —

             “What are you doing?”

            You peered at the male from the corner of your eyes, raising an eyebrow why he was holding your cheek. Your hands stopped midway from the plate when you felt his warm hand touched your face, bringing down the spoon on the table.

            “What am I doing?” He echoed with a slight tilt of his head. “I’m checking if you’re okay. Your face is red again.” He sighed and took out a thermometer to check the reading. 

            “I’m not!” 

            You latched your hand on his and bring it down back to his side. “Hm…” His turquoise eyes had a tint of a doubtful frown as he sighed. For some reason, this brought a sense of deja vu to him.

            Your behavior was odd after the explosion incident. You’ve been so cold towards him, making him slightly worried. He knows it was his fault that caused you like this, but he didn’t expect you’ve been so hostile to him these past few days.

            It’s like a sudden switch of personality.

            Every time he checks up on you, you just puffed your cheeks and turn your head. He asked the other Knights of Favonius about your condition and all they said was you were perfectly fine.

            How is this perfectly fine?!

            “[Name]!!” The door slammed open surprising the two teens. The said female felt someone jumped onto her bed, making her stomach hurt at the sudden weight. “Klee is so worried about big sis! When I heard you were sick, Dodoco and I were going to give you gifts! Klee thought you were fine yesterday. Diona even said she saw you going to the plaza—“

            “A-Ah— you and Dodoco brought me gifts? That’s so sweet of you! Ahaha..” Your nervous chuckle made the Chief Alchemist raised his brow at you in suspicion. You were fidgeting underneath the bedsheets and avoiding not looking at him in the eye.

            “Klee, what did Diona said about [Name]?” The girl’s attention went to him before she could rummage inside her bag. “She said that she saw big sis walking around the plaza!”

            “K-Klee!!” Your face flushed even more than before. You were stammering so much and you felt like the world was spinning around. 

            Albedo wanted to confirm his suspicions, and so he kept on pushing questions at the little girl, ignoring your attempts to shush him.

            “What kind of gifts are you going to give to her?”

            His question quickly made you sat up and threw your pillow to his face. “Th-that’s none of your concern!! It’s something private okay?!”

            “[Name] told me if I can give her the bombs you made to me. I tried to copy what you did and she seems satisfied with it!”

            Your hands were flailing in the air, not knowing whether you should continue pressing the pillow on Albedo’s face or to cover your face in embarrassment. You didn’t want to clasp your hands on Klee’s mouth to silence her, she might get hurt from your sudden actions!

            Bombs? What is she going to do with those?

            He snapped out from his train of thoughts then eyed you conscientiously. His brain connected the pieces of information together. The heat from your body, the smell of the mint grasses, and a faint of ash from it made sense. Especially how your body temperature dropped all of a sudden.

            He grabbed your wrist and intertwined your fingers together as he pressed his forehead with yours. The close proximity between you two made your head go blank and your attention was solely on his eyes, mesmerized by their colors.

            Klee naively looked at you two with a curious gaze.

            Your body heat skyrocketed and your lips quavered after his words reached your ears.

            “You know, you could’ve just told me you wanted me to take care of you instead of putting an effort to do this.”

            Your shoulders shook in aggravation and embarrassment, smothering him with the pillows to shut him up.

            “I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you!!!”

            Albedo just let your antics be, not bothered by the fact you’re slapping the pillow on him each word escaped from your lips. 

         His lips tugged upwards thinking he caught your trickeries once again.

 reader was pretending she's sick just so he can take care of her lol           

[h2bakugou]

hitoshi x reader where denki and reader have been friends their whole lives, and after introducing the two, both hitoshi and y/n start going to denki about their feelings for each other and how much they struggle

denki eventually gets sick of it and starts finding different ways to get them together (eventually ending with them being like "oh i didn't think you liked me" and finally dating

maybe a bonus scene of denki's reaction to seeing them together and being like "hecking finally"

- 🪶

a/n: hii love!! this is a really cute idea omg i love this sm <3 i hope you enjoy it!!

summary: denki's been your childhood friend since, well childhood. when he introduces you to a certain lavendar-haired boy, you find yourself opening up to denki about your crush, and so does someone else.

key: (y/n) - your name / (f/n) - first name / (l/n) - last name / (e/c) - eye color / (h/c) - hair color / (y/q) - your quirk

warnings: swearing, fluff

word count: 2.1k

;cut for length;

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»»————-　★　————-««

The electric blonde has been your childhood friend for years. You grew up together, you told each other pretty much everything. There was the occasional talk about crushes, boys, girls, and whatever else you could talk about while growing up.

You'd always been there for each other, and now you were both attending U.A., and being in the same class had been proven to be a bit of a task for Mr. Aizawa.

The day had pretty much just started, and Denki had asked you to come with him on your first break. You were almost always hanging out with him anyway, so you were a bit confused as to why he'd wanted you to come with him.

"Hitoshi!" Denki called out, alerting both you and the lavender-haired boy of your presence.

"Oh, hi Kami-" Hitoshi falls silent as he stares at the person beside Denki. You.

Shinso feels the world stop for a few seconds as he stares at you. He's honestly speechless.

Much like you are. You'd heard about this boy now that you've heard his name, and staring at him, you can feel your heart swell in your chest. He's so handsome.

"I thought I would introduce you two! Maybe we could all go hang out together this weekend since we won't have classes." Denki's sudden plans that would include this cute boy makes your face heat up. You begin to feel self-conscious, flattening your uniform, or tucking a strand of hair behind your ear as you glance at Denki.

"We're off for once?" You question.

"Yeah! We could go do laser tag, or watch a movie in my dorm?" Denki offers, grinning. His intentions had been pure, just wanting to introduce two friends.

"Oh, I totally forgot! Hitoshi, this is (Y/n), (Y/n) this is-"

"Hitoshi, Shinso." Hitoshi speaks up, and your heart throbs in your chest at the sound of his voice. It's oddly charming. And so is the soft scent of sage and teakwood that surrounds him. It had to be his cologne, whatever it was though, you enjoyed it.

"It's nice to meet you." You speak up, extending a hand to shake. Shinso glanced own before placing his palm in yours, giving you a gentle handshake. His touch is electrifying and sends sparks coursing through your veins as you pull away.

"Yeah." Shinso looks back at Kaminari, who's beaming at him, a shit-eating grin on his lips. Kaminari was reading Shinso like a book.

"Well, we've got to get back to classes! We'll talk our plans over later!"

And with that, Kaminari is yanking you back down the hall, running to make it back to class on time.

During lunch, your phone pings, signaling you've been added to a group chat. You immediately recognize Kaminari's number, his contact labeled 'kami :D' popping up followed an unknown number.

who's that?

The number asks. You see Kaminari typing a response.

It's (y/n) dummy, add them into your contacts🙄🙄

You realize this number must be Shinso, so you decide to type a reply.

it's shinso right? i'll add u too ^^

You quickly add Shinso's contact into your phone and put a purple heart beside his name. Kaminari glances over at your phone and giggles.

"A heart already? You just met!" Kaminari teases and you're plastering your hand over his mouth to keep him from speaking too loud.

"Shut up! I just think he's sweet! Besides do we need to talk about your contact info for-"

"Okay! Okay!" Kaminari quickly shushes you, not wanting his current crush to find out about whatever their contact info is.

A few days go by, and after your hangout session with Kaminari and Shinso, you find yourself falling for him more and more.

But Shinso is the one that drops the first hint to Kaminari.

"So is (Y/n) seeing anyone?" Shinso asks, helping Kaminari clean his cartilage piercing.

"What like romantically?" Kaminari asks, sitting up with his ear turned to face Shinso while his cold fingers brushed against his ear.

"Yes, you idiot. Do they have like a boyfriend or girlfriend?" Shinso asks. He's nervous.

"Nope! (Y/n) hasn't talked to me about a crush or anything. They're always showing me these fictional people though. Why? You know someone that likes them~" Kaminari wiggles his brows at the purple-haired boy.

"Shut up. 'm just askin'." Shinso is finally done with the cotton swab and tosses it before letting Kaminari go, his fresh piercing all clean.

Suddenly a knock on the door pulls them away from the conversation and Kaminari is on his toes opening it to reveal you in some goofy pajamas.

"I'm ready for pizza and mario-" Your face contorts in horror as you stare at Shinso on his bed, out of uniform in something dark and mysterious, a loose dark plaid button-up and dark jeans.

"Nevermind! Sorry for bugging you!" You yell and run back to your dorm, hiding your face in embarrassment.

"Wait! I wanted pizza!" Kaminari calls out to you in the hallway but you don't turn around.

Shinso's face is red when Kaminari turns back to look at him.

You looked so cute, and so effortlessly- You weren't trying to impress anyone, yet you looked stunning. In nothing but some silly matching pajamas that Denki most likely had a pair to match, you looked so cute.

"You didn't tell me you ate pizza and played Mario Kart..." Shinso says, faking hurt in his sentence.

"Oh shut up! Go to their dorm and see if they wanna come back up, I'll get it set up." Denki sighs.

Shinso's on the move, making his way to your dorm thanks to Kaminari's excellent directions. Knocking on your door, he feels nervous, anxious even. His heart's pounding in his chest and then cool air washes over him as you open your door.

"Kami I'm sorry I-" You freeze as you stared at the boy in front of you.

"Ohmygod." You say quietly, quickly hiding yourself behind your door.

"Hi!!" You speak up, glancing at him from behind your door.

"Why are you hiding behind your door?" Shinso asks, a small smile on his lips.

"Your pj's are cute."

It echoes in your head, over. and over. and over again.

Your pj's are cute.

You slowly reveal yourself and look away.

"So, did Kami send you down here?" You ask quietly.

"He did, he wants you to come back up, and if it's alright with you, I'd like to hang out too, though I don't have any cool pj's to wear."

Shinso's voice calms you down, though your heart still seems to beat faster and faster.

"I actually, um, hang on. You can come in!" You allow him into your dorm, and he doesn't decline.

He glances around, admiring the pictures of you and Kami. He giggles about how silly young Denki looks with his hair all crazy and spiked up.

"You guys have been friends for a while it looks."

"Since kindergarten! He shocked me on accident, and when he apologized, we just sorta clicked. Been besties ever since." You search through your drawers and eventually find a kitty onesie that was a bit too big for you.

"I think this should fit you."

"It's kitty onesie, though you don't have to wear it!"

"Did you say kitty?" Shinso's ears perk up and you nod. He graciously takes it and the two of you leave to return to Denki. Shinso changes in his bathroom.

It smells like you, and Shinso has to stop himself from smelling the hood every five seconds as he leaves. You just smell so sweet, it's kind of alarming how soothing it is.

You all play and it's a great night, until Denki decides to play a scary movie after. You're sandwiched between the boys but begin to doze off about halfway through the movie.

Your head leans on Shinso's shoulder while you doze off, and he notices right away. He glances at Kaminari who only gives him a reassuring wink.

"You're stupid." Shinso whispers.

"They like to cuddle~" Kaminari suggests.

Shinso graciously lays an arm over you, hugging you to his chest as you readjust in your sleep. You're so warm, and Shinso begins to doze off too.

When you wake up in the morning, you've been covered up by a fuzzy blanket, but the warmth radiating under you is the most alarming.

Your sleepy eyes open to see the purple-haired boy you have a crush on, under you. Your eyes widen but you don't move away. Instead, you lay back down, not wanting to wake him.

His arm rests around you, and his breathing is so calming. It lulls you back to sleep.

You don't talk about that night much afterward, until you're knocking on Kami's door at one in the morning after a bad dream.

"Is Shinso single?" You ask quietly.

"Yeah, why ya askin' me though?" Kaminari hugs you, your head resting on his shoulder.

"I'm too nervous to ask him." You giggle.

"So you like him?"

"Yeah. He's really sweet, and super cute too." You admit, pulling away to stare at your best friend.

"I'm totally not his type though."

"I'm going to beat you up." Kaminari jokes. You shake your head and laugh.

"He's gotta be into like super hardcore goth punk rock-"

"You're so oblivious." Kaminari interrupts you. You roll your eyes and get comfortable on the edge of his bed, snuggling with one of his plushies.

"Just go to sleep, you idiot." You throw another plushy at him.

"You're in my dorm! I can and will kick you out." Denki huffs.

"As if. You need my snoring as your white noise." You tease him.

"You're so mean to me." Denki pouts.

By the same time next week, Denki's heard Shinso's confession about his crush on you, and every little detail about what both of you had to say about the other.

And Denki was honestly tired of it, endearingly of course. So he was setting you two up.

"I need you to meet me here at two. Wear something cute." Is what the text had said. You repeated it as you put together a cute outfit.

Shinso had received the same text and was just wearing something casual like he usually did.

However, when you both spotted each other and not Denki, you began to realize what was happening.

"He's not coming, is he?" You spoke softly, staring at the attractive boy in front of you.

"I guess not." Shinso looks over at the cafe you're standing outside. It's a cat cafe.

"Well, if you're not busy, wanna grab a bite to eat?" Shinso offers, nodding toward the cafe.

"I'd really like that, actually. Thank you." You smile. He offers his hand and you take it gracefully, smiling at how warm it is.

Shinso's phone pings halfway through your piece of cake with a message from Kaminari.

nows ur chance dude, ask them out

Shinso swallows his fear and looks up at you. You're so beautiful, even all dressed up, you look adorable.

You're petting an all-white kitty that's laying in your lap.

"Hey, (Y/n)?" Shinso gets your attention.

"Mhm?" You hum, smiling at him.

"Do you wanna, maybe do this again sometime?" He asks, a blush on his cheeks.

"Like, as a date?" You ask, your own face heating up.

"Yeah. As a date, and as a couple." He glances over at a pretty black cat that begins to nudge your arm for a few pets as well.

"I'd like that." You smile, your heart swelling.

"Then it's settled."

Afterward, neither of you can contain your excitement. Walking back to the dorm with your hand in his, Kaminari is elated.

"Finally." He sighs.

"Finally?!" You both say in unison.

"You should've confessed the day you met. I had to listen to you two being sappy about one another for two weeks straight."

Both you and Shinso feel flustered at Kaminari's comment.

"But it's okay. I love you two so I'll tolerate it. But you two better get along or no more pizza and Mario Kart. You'll have to deal with Bakugou, and I don't think you'll enjoy buying a new controller every time you want to play."

Kaminari was genuinely happy to see you both together, and both be happy.

"Thanks, for you know." You nudge him while sitting on his bed, Shinso was gone, using the bathroom.

"What are you talking about. I didn't help. You two just finally confessed. You did that on your own."

"Yeah but, you made me feel confident about it." You smile.

"That's what I'm here for!" Kaminari smiles.

You couldn't ask for a better friend, or a better boyfriend.

»»————-　★　————-««

masterlist

[atlafan]

Lake House Tattoo - One Shot

a/n: so my birthday is in a couple of days, and I think a lot of you know I write about piercings a lot, but don’t have any major ones of my own...or at least I didn’t UNTIL TODAY! Finally got my belly button pierced yall! I wanted my nose done, but it’s not safe to do so yet, so I got the next best thing. Anyways...the guy that took care of me was really nice, and made me want to write a little piercer!Harry fic. Hope you enjoy! 

Warnings: FLUFF!

Words: 2.3K

Y/N was a simple woman. She worked a 9-5, regular old office job, and she liked it enough. She had a great group of friends, and a relatively normal family. There wasn’t too much to complain about. She was well past her wild college days, but as her twenty-fifth birthday was approaching, she wanted to do something that she felt was a little out there for herself.

A lot of her friends had different types of piercings. She only had her ears pierced. She had two sets in her lobes, and a simple stud in her cartilage. But her friends has some of the cooler ones, some had their noses pierced, and others had their belly buttons done. Bingo. A belly button piercing would be perfect. It was the little bit of defiance she was looking for, but it was also discrete. Maybe for any other person it wouldn’t be such a big deal, but it was something her mother was adamant about not allowing her to have as she was growing up, which was annoying because it seemed like everyone had it.

“Will you please come with me? I’ll need someone to hold my hand…” She asked her best friend, Maggie.

“Of course! But I promise, it won’t hurt that much. Where are you getting it done?”

“Lake House Tattoo, the piercer came really recommended from some friends at work. I wish I could have my nose pierced, but it’s frowned upon.” She sighs. “And another ear piercing isn’t outrageous enough.”

“Plus it’s discrete like you wanted. Are you going to tell your mom?” She giggles.

“Maybe some night if I get drunk enough and work up the courage. I’m about to be twenty-five, I’m an adult, I don’t live at home, she can’t say anything.”

//

A couple of days before her birthday, Y/N and Maggie drive out to the tattoo shop. It was on the top of a hill on the coast. The piercer, Harry Styles, came recommended by just about everyone she spoke to, so it was worth the almost hour long drive. Plus, it was a beautiful day out so the girls didn’t mind.

They both walk in, and step up to the counter. There were a couple of people sitting behind the desk. One of them had sleeves on both of his arms and those really large gages. His hair was buzzed short and bleached blond. The other man behind the counter had brown hair with soft curls. It was pulled back by a red bandana and a small clip. His left arm had a ton of tattoos, and his right only had a few. He had a small hoop in his left nostril, and that was all Y/N could see for piercings.

“Hello, I have an appointment at two…I’m Y/N.”

“Ah, the belly button, right?” The man with the bandana says. “I’m Harry, you’ll be with me.” He smiles and then squints at Maggie. “Are you getting anything done?”

“Um…no.” She says.

“Alright, you’ll have to out here, I don’t allow more than one person in the room.”

“But she-“

“Sorry, thems the rules.” He says as he stands up to place some papers on the counter. “Need your license and for you to sign some things.”

Y/N swallows and hands him her license and then signs the forms. She slides the papers over to him and he puts them in a folder. He hands her back her license and comes around from the counter.

“I’ll be right out here when you get back.” Maggie gives her a reassuring smile.

“Ready?” Harry asks.

“Yeah.” Y/N says nervously. She knew it wasn’t going to be that bad, but she didn’t do well with needles, and she knew she was going to be a little bit exposed to a stranger so her nerves were shot.

She follows him down the hall to a staircase, and up they go.

“So, a little birthday present to yourself, huh?”

“Mhm.”

“That’s nice, hope I can add the special experience.” He smiles and gestures for her to head into the private room. It was small so she understood now why Maggie couldn’t join.

“Alright, sweetheart.” He says to her softly. He must be able to tell she was nervous. “I’m gonna take really good care of you, okay? I like my customers to be happy.” He goes into a closet and pulls out a container of different piercings. “Pick your favorite.” He pulls on some gloves. “Just make sure to look, not touch.”

Y/N nods and peers into the container.

“I like this one, the darker clear jewel.” She points to it.

“Ah, so the electric pink isn’t your thing?” He jokes and grabs the piercings she wants. She laughs nervously as he sterilizes it. “So…” He looks her up and down. “You’re not going to want to wear anything high waisted for a while, and you can’t go swimming either.”

“Okay.” She looks down at herself, now feeling stupid for wearing a tucked in short sleeve shirt with high waisted shorts. “I’ll be able to wear these low, it’s no problem.”

“It’s a popular trend right now.”

“They’re just flattering.” She laughs nervously again and he smiles. She watches as he puts something on a q-tip and he looks at her.

“Are you wearing a bra with that?”

“Um…yes?” She had to be blushing by now.

“Could you just tuck your shirt up in it?”

“Oh! Sure.”

She pulls her shirt up and does what he says, and then she lowers her shorts a little. He moves to stand in front of her and then he dips down to his knees, swabbing whatever is on the q-tip in and around her belly button. Y/N was sweating. She knew he must do this a million times a day, but it certainly wasn’t every day Y/N had a cute guy get on his knees in front of her.

“Just cleaning you up, sweetheart.” He must have notice her flinch when the q-tip hit her. “There we go.” He smiles up at her and stands to her feet again.

He sets the bed down so it doesn’t look like a chair anymore for her to lay on.

“Okay, hop on up and lay down for me.”

She nods and does as he says.

“How are you feeling?”

“I’m excited, but I’m really nervous.”

“Nothing to be nervous about, sweetheart. Like I said, I’m gonna take really good care of you.”

Y/N was screaming internally. She wanted to tell him to keep calling her pet names. For whatever reason it was relaxing her. His was voice was also deep and he had a nice British accent, so it was all just very soothing.

“I’m just going to squeeze here for a second to get the area ready.” He pinches down right at the top her belly button.

She flinches involuntarily when he first touches her. Y/N’s stomach was sensitive, it always had been. She takes a deep breath once he’s done. She looks away when she sees him grab the needle.

“Alright, now you’re going to feel the needle.” He says as he presses it through her.

She gasps, biting her bottom lip and pinching her eyes closed. It was over before she knew it, but shit she hated needles.

“Dis great sweetheart, all done. Just need to crew the top of the jewel on and clean it up.” He smiles at her.

“Thanks.” She lets out a breath.

She flinched every time he touched her stomach. He gets the top of the jewel on and cleans the area up. He explains how long it’ll take to heal, and since it was summer it was fine to go in the water, and he touches her lower stomach at about where she could go up to.

“Just don’t be in there along, especially if it’s a lake.”

“Yeah, stagnant water is pretty gross.” She giggles.

“Exactly! No baths either, just as gross. If you’re in the shower it’s okay to get it wet, just don’t let it get beat under the water, yeah?”

“Okay.” She smiles up at him.

“I’m just going to put my hand on your shoulder so I can lift this back up, and I just want you to sit a moment.”

She nods and her eyes flutter closed a moment as his hand reaches her shoulder, and she slowly sits up. She feels the pinch of the jewel as she does so and winces. She can see it in the mirror before her and she smiles.

“Like it so far? You’ll be able to see it closer in a moment.”

“Yeah! Thank you so much.”

“Oh, my pleasure.” He grabs his card and hands it to her. “Okay, now for the aftercare, this is really important.” He goes into the closet and grabs a can of saltwater spray. “You’ll want to get some little paper cups and q-tips, first thing in the morning and before you go to bed you’ll clean it out. Then a few times a day just spritz it with the spray. The less you touch it the better. These heal from the outside in, so it actually takes six months to a year for it to heal altogether, and then you can change the jewel all you want. You’ve got my card, so please, call me anytime if you have questions. The only stupid question you could have is the one you don’t ask.” She giggles at that and he smiles. “Take my hand, I’ll help you hop down.”

She does so and slowly gets off the chair. She blinks a few times, but she’s alright.

“Lightheaded at all? That can happen afterwards.” He gives her hand a squeeze.

“I think I’m okay.”

He nods and lets go of her hand. She steps closer to the mirror so she can inspect her new piercing, and she beams at herself.

“It looks so good, thank you so much. I’m so happy with it. I’ve wanted this for a long time, and it feels great to have it done.”

“I’m so glad you like it. I like when my customers are happy. Come back and see me anytime.”

“I will.”

He leads her back down the stairs with her to ring her up.

“Do you live around here?” He asks as he gets the order together on the computer.

“About an hour away, why?”

“Well, that’s the only aftercare spray I trust and they sell it locally here.” He gets up and grabs a couple of more cans for her. “Take these on the house.” He winks at her. “But promise to come back for more when you run out.”

“I promise.” She smiles and puts them in her bag with the other can. “Thank you.”

“That’s be sixty altogether.” He slides her the receipt. “Gotta fill that out before I run your card, sweetheart.”

She leaves him a twenty dollar tip and gives him his card. He smiles big when he sees the tip and runs the card. She takes it back and puts it in her wallet.

“All set, Y/N?” Maggie asks, coming up to her. “I was just looking around at the shop.” She points towards the room where people could buy piercings and studs.

“Yeah, take a look.” She lifts her shirt slightly so her friend could see.

“It’s so cute! Love the jewel you chose.”

“Thanks.” Y/N looks at Harry. “Well, if I ever need anything else pierced, I’ll certainly be back. This was a great experience.”

“I’m glad to hear it. I also do tattoos if you feel like being especially brave.” He smirks.

“Definitely won’t be coming in for that, but another piercing for sure.”

“Fair enough. Remember, if you have questions, my number’s on the card.”

“Thanks, I’ll definitely reach out if I need to.”

He nods and watches her leave. She hands Maggie her keys, not feeling up to driving.

“Oh god.” She says as she sits down. “Definitely going to take some getting used to.”

“It’s an adjustment for sure. So, was he as short with you upstairs as he was when we first walked in?”

“Not at all! He was super nice, he kept calling me sweetheart. Oh my god, Maggie…”

“What?” She chuckles.

“I got so nervous, before we got started he, like, knelt in front of me to clean me up…”

“Oh, that’s hot.”

“I wasn’t expecting it at all. I know it’s just part of the job so it’s no big deal on his end, but-“

“How often does a guy get on his knees?”

“Exactly! It was…intimate. He made me feel really comfortable. I nearly lost it when he started talking about aftercare.”

“You’ve read one too many erotic novels, Y/N.” She laughs. “He seemed pretty adamant about you calling him, maybe you should find an excuse.”

“He did ask if I lived around here…but that was just to make sure I had plenty of the cleaning spray. He gave me two extra cans for free.”

“You should ask him if you’re cleaning it right, like, explain to him what you’re doing, and then just see where the conversation goes.”

“It’s probably just the shop number…” She looks down at the card and her eyes grow wide. “Oh my god…he wrote in pen and put his cell number on it!” Her and Maggie squeal. “Okay…maybe I’ll call him. He’s really cute.”

“Plus…it’s kind of hot that he works at a tattoo place.”

“Super hot, I don’t know what it is about it. I wouldn’t mind hearing him call me sweetheart again. I wonder how often he does that.”

“Guess you won’t know until you call him.”

“I guess so.” She smiles and bites her bottom lip as she looks out the window. Best start to a birthday ever.

[hisunshiine]

—𝘪𝘯𝘬𝘦𝘥  |pjm|

⟢ pairing: Tattoo Artist!Jimin x First Time Tatoo!reader

⟢ genre: strangers2lovers | smut, fluff | oneshot | tattoo shop au

⟢ rating: 18+, nsfw

⟢ summary: You decided to get a tattoo when the $13 dollar deal is happening and find out it’s because your tattoo artist is celebrating his birthday, which falls on the 13th. His needle penetrates you, then he penetrates you. Happy Birthday indeed. 

⟢ warnings: minimal blood and pain (she’s getting a tattoo)

⟢ kinks: pain kink (from the tattoo) teasing, semi-public sex, thigh kissing, oral f.receiving, fingering, cum eating, unprotected sex, breast play, is there a term for fucking the cum into someone?

⟢ word count: 2.2k

⟢ author’s note: the way they looked at the MOTS ON:E concert really fucked me. Happy Birthday to our cutie sexy lovely Jimin.

“I’m excited and scared at the same time.” You said, bouncing nervously on your toes. Your best friend eyed the display in front of her.

“I think this one is really pretty… Maybe I should get a piercing. I really like this one, YN.” She points out a shiny gemstone embedded in surgical grade silver, and you nod.

“I am so torn. I want to get a tattoo really badly, and today is the 13th, so they’re doing 13 dollar tattoos. But I also want to pierce my cartilage.”

“You ladies need some help?” 

You looked up at the figure that had approached you from the other side of the counter. His smirk as he eyed you up and down left you feeling warm.

“Yes, ” your best friend began without looking up, “she’s looking to get a 13 dollar tattoo, and I’m debating on this piercing.”

Once she finally was done ogling the jewelry, she made eye contact with the man and almost gasped. He was taller than the both of you, roughly 5 foot 8, and lean. His grey/platinum blond hair was loose around his face, showcasing the cut of his jaw and the intensity of his gaze. Dressed in black and silver, you couldn’t deny how hot he was. He quirked an eyebrow up, turning back to you.

“Do you know what tattoo you want?”

“I do,” you answered shyly. “I want a simple one, just the outline of a heart, but, um.. Do you have any… female tattoo artists?”

He smirked again, and you felt embarrassed for asking.

“Bangtan Tattoo Shop doesn’t have any female artists or piercers currently… but I promise, I’ll be gentle.”

Your best friend inhaled again watching the exchange between you and the worker, nearly choking on the sexual aura he was exuding.

“Oh, are you the tattoo artist?”

“The one and only Park Jimin, at your service. We have a couple artists, but they’re all already working on someone and I just finished, so once you fill out the online consents, I’ll take you back.” He passes you a tablet that’s open to a consent form.

“Um, what about piercings?” Your best friend had finally found her voice again.

“I’ll send Hobi over, he’s the best we’ve got.” 

Jimin hands another tablet to your best friends and disappears behind the curtain behind him.

“Please tell me that you saw what I saw.”

“That fine ass man? I definitely did.”

“I can’t believe you’re gonna let him touch you there...” Your best friend hit submit on her tablet and set it back down on the glass display case. 

“It’s not like it’s that risque… it’s small anyways so it’ll be done in no time.”

The sound of the curtain opening ends your conversation.

“Ready, little lady?”

You nod and he motions you around the counter and through the black curtain. As you walk past him, you see a man with several piercings and multiple tattoos on his arms walking towards you.

“She’s right out there, boss. Had her fill out the waiver and everything.”

“Thanks Chim. Happy Birthday again!”

The man, despite all of his jewelry and tattoos, had a cheerful disposition, and radiated a fun energy. He looked tough and menacing, but when he smiled, all of that melted away. You felt confident he would do a good job on your friend.

“Andddd.. Right through here.” Jimin pointed you towards a doorway and you headed inside, eyeing the bed and tattoo equipment laid out. As he followed you inside and shut the door, you turned to ask him where you should sit.

“Alright, before I have you climb up on the table, where do you want this small tattoo?”

“I want it right here.” You pointed at a spot below your hip, right at the apex of where your bikini line meets your leg. You thought it was the perfect place for a dainty tattoo that would only be seen by the men who would be lucky enough to get your panties off of you.

“Ah, I see why you asked for a female artist.. Well, I will have you know that I have tattooed many a half naked woman. No worries. I’ll treat you right.” He winked, and it went straight to your core.

“Let me see the design you want, so I can get that drafted up and ready to draw onto you.”

You showed him a beautiful image of detailed line work that created a flower. 

“This will look so good on you, send this to the email posted above the door.” Jimin pointed at a plaque on the wall above the closed door that listed the wifi information and an email to the shop.

“I’m just gonna have you strip from the waist down, and wrap this towel around you as best as you can to cover all the bits you're worried about, just make sure to leave the area you want done exposed. I’ll print out the design and I’m gonna grab the correct size gloves, they put the wrong ones in here again.”

Jimin left the room with a box of gloves in hand, and you quickly stripped down, winding the towel around your waist and climbing onto the table. Laying back, you tug at the towel, creating enough slack to cover your mound while still keeping the right side exposed for the tattoo. Getting comfortable, you logged into the wifi network and sent the image to the email address as requested. Waiting for Jimin to return felt like it took forever, but you knew that it was just your nerves talking. This would be your first tattoo.

“Ready, baby girl?” Jimin popped back into the room and you jumped, nerves getting the best of you. He adjusted the table so that you were slightly leaned back and your legs dangled at the knee.

“Let me wash my hands and glove up, then we can get started.”

You took the opportunity to eye Jimin as his back was turned to you. The way the black leather pants hugged his ass, showcasing his lean legs that were toned. 

“It’s, uh, it’s your birthday today?” You asked, voice cracking just slightly.

“Yup! The big 2-5. That’s actually why we do the 13 dollar tattoos in October. I offer this rate to celebrate so I can spend the day doing something that I love.”

“Wow, that’s amazing. Happy Birthday!”

“Thank you. Alright, if you’re ready, I’m gonna use this wipe to remove any hair and then place this and you let me know if it’s where you want it or we can adjust.”

You could feel his gentle touch as he wiped the hair removal cloth along your skin before placing the trace of the flower there. Handing you a mirror, you eyeball the location and nod, letting him know that you approve of it.

You take deep breaths as you wait for him to start, trying to ease your nerves. Once the gun makes contact with your skin, you let out an indecent moan. You were expecting it to hurt, and while there definitely is some pain, there is also no mistaking the arousal that leaks from your core. The buzz of the gun is loud, but you’re sure that Jimin noticed the way you formed your mouth into an ‘O’ and closed your eyes. If you hadn’t been instructed to stay still, you might have arched into it, enjoying the way his other hand was braced along your hip, gripping you as he leaned over your lower half to follow the outline. 

Sitting on a rolling chair and positioned between your knees, Jimin was very aware of the way you were reacting to the tattoo. It excited him, finding someone who looked as good as you did who reacted the same way to being tattooed as he had his first time. He tried to ignore the slight hard-on he got from hearing you moan from him decorating your virgin skin.

About 15 minutes later, Jimin had finished the delicate lines of the flower, and wiped away the residual ink. You sat back with your eyes closed, breathing heavily as you calmed down from the rush of endorphins. Jimin looked up at you, admiring the way your lashes highlight your cheekbones.

“Well done, baby girl.”

His breath tickles your inner thigh as he inspects his work, and you look down at him, perfectly positioned to fulfill your wildest dreams.

“It actually didn’t hurt like I thought it would.”

“Seemed like you enjoyed yourself through it.”

“Oh, you noticed that did you?” you ask sheepishly, failing to close your thighs to soothe the ache forming. 

“I noticed quite a bit… This tattoo is gorgeous here by the way. The perfect surprise.” Jimin looks up at you, eye fucking you slowly. “I can see it now, the lucky bastard running his hands like this along your thighs,” Jimin had removed his gloves and placed his soft palms against your thighs. He slides them up, eyes daring you to stop him. You don’t.

“I can see him spreading your thighs apart, kissing up your leg...” He dips his head down and you shiver as his pouty lips make contact with your thigh, soft wet kisses dragging themselves higher and higher.

“Him removing all the clothing blocking you from sight...” Jimin grips the towel and you watch as it glides off of you, revealing your wet folds to him. “Baby girl, I’d really like something sweet for my birthday...”

You nod consenting to his statement, knowing he’s asking to taste you. He wastes no time, tongue tracing your folds as he sucks and licks you, tongue dancing across your clit as your hands bury themselves into his hair. His hands grip your hips, careful not to touch your tattoo. You can’t help the sounds you make, moans rolling from your lips as he pushes your legs farther open before guiding his fingers inside of you. His lips latch onto your clit, paying it special attention as he finger fucks you, but it’s not enough.

“Please, Jimin...”

He pulls away from you, chin glossy with your arousal, but continues to pump his fingers in you slowly.

“I want to feel you, all of you.”

You buck your hips suggestively, and he grins.

“Fuck, baby girl, I’d love to feel you grip me the way you’re gripping my fingers.”

With a lewd, slick sound, he pulls his fingers free, enjoying the way your wetness coats them. He spreads the two fingers that were inside of you and you can see the way the juices cling together, sticky between his digits. He brings them to his mouth, sucking them clean.

The sight along caused you to clench, a small mewl from your throat catching his attention.

“Such a dirty girl… That turned you on?”

Eyes hooded, you nod, biting your lip.

“Fuck, you’re so hot.”

His lips meet yours, and they’re as soft as they looked. You can taste yourself in his mouth, and you tense when you feel the flared tip of his cock sliding against your leaking cunt. He teases your opening before he pushes past, stretching your walls to fit his girth. The angle of the chair allows you to feel him well, the tip of his cock teasing at your g-spot. 

His hands travel up your torso, pushing up your shirt until his hands are cupping your breasts, thumbs teasing your sensitive nipples through the lace bra you wore. He eases his face down until his tongue is lined up with your breast, the wet muscle laving the peak through the material. His hips move steadily, plunging him deeper and deeper with each thrust, and you can feel yourself building closer to climax. 

“Shit, Jimin, you feel so good...”

He giggles, and it’s a beautiful sound, melodic and soothing, and you feel him speed up. A free hand rubs at your swollen nub, infinity symbols drawn against your pink clit. His teeth graze your neck and when you feel him bite you, you let go.

Legs trembling, it’s earth shattering the way Jimin takes you through the crests. He can feel each wave of the multiple orgasms he produced, and he takes advantage of the pulsing walls to join you in this euphoric state. 

He wasn’t planning to fill you, so he pulled out and allowed his cum to pool on your mound. Due to the angle, it began to leak down across your clit and towards your opening, which he watched with desire. He really wasn’t planning to fill you, but he couldn’t resist fucking his seed back into you, allowing your satin core to milk the rest of him into you.

You had fully intended to only get ink on your skin today. Expected a little pain with every puncture. The pleasure of your tattoo artist's cock penetrating your pussy walls was just an added bonus, one you’re pretty sure the birthday boy enjoyed as well.

-

ℍ𝕒𝕡𝕡𝕪 𝔹𝕚𝕣𝕥𝕙𝕕𝕒𝕪 𝕁𝕚𝕞𝕚𝕟, 𝕔𝕦𝕥𝕚𝕖, 𝕤𝕖𝕩𝕪, 𝕝𝕠𝕧𝕖𝕝𝕪

[stubbychaos]

Rose Golden

Part 1 Part 2

Pairing: Paz Vizla x Nurse!Reader

Summary: Your newest companion takes you somewhere safe and special after a long week of work so he can give you a thoughtful present. In the process, you learn that you’re not the biggest fan of heights.

Rated: T because Paz drops an F-bomb and there are suggestive themes regarding abuse and injuries.

Word count: 7,500 (I sincerely did not mean for this chapter to be so long and then I got carried away in editing--oops)

Warnings: There’s really none in this chapter, except for a brief mention of reader’s abusive father and a clumsy moment that leaves the reader with a bruise. This is honestly mostly playful bantering and adorable flirting between Paz and his nurse.

Author’s note will be at the end of the chapter! :)

You don’t expect to see the blue Mandalorian only eight days after he carries you home, but you can’t stop the large smile that spreads across your now healed lips upon finding him leaning against the exterior of the shoddy infirmary right after the sun has gone down. A few crimson rays of sunlight still linger and bathe the Mandalorian in a lovely glow, contrasting drastically with his dull blue armor and making it look as though he polished and shined it just recently.

He stands far taller compared to a few late night stragglers and you immediately frown when a passing Twi'lek hisses at him in a feral manner, though the Mandalorian simply ignores the rude gesture, deeming the offended creature as unworthy of his effort or time. It’s almost like watching a baby porg attempt to square up with a Wampa and you’re certain that the blue warrior is amused by the poor attempt at intimidation. 

You’re a little surprised that someone would willingly try to get underneath the massive warrior’s skin and you’re even more surprised when the Twi’lek sends a disgusting yellow-tinted wad of spit in the direction of your Mandalorian’s big boots in a disrespectful manner.

His blue helm slowly tips downwards and to the side to finally regard the much smaller Twi’lek and while he dons his sacred helmet, you find it amusing how he’s still able to convey an irritated glare through the guise of the thick metal. Without even saying a word or moving to stand taller in front of the Twi’lek, your Mandalorian somehow threatens him with a simple cock of his helmet and a massive hand moving to the handle of his smaller blaster. It’s something you find impressive and you suddenly grow jealous that he can exude such terrifying energy so easily.

As you watch the magenta-tinged creature give the Mandalorian one last sneer before stalking past him, you wonder why anyone in their right mind would find it a good idea to mess with someone with such a terrifying aura. Upon meeting him for the first time, you had been too afraid to even talk to him or even look into his shiny visor, let alone scoff at him or even think about spitting on his boots. You wonder if this is a typical reaction he gets everywhere he goes and you think it must get exhausting after having to deal with it for so long.

Does it bother him? Or has he simply resigned to a life of judgment and persecution?

You can’t even imagine displaying so much disrespect and resentment towards someone who had inflicted absolutely no harm or offense on you, though you think that the Twi’lek, nor many others in the village, are aware of the concept of manners.

His visor is dutifully scanning the streets and you beam the second it lands on you as you make your way over to him with a little skip in your step; you notice the small canvas bag he holds tightly in one hand and the way the fingers of his free hand loosely curl against his thigh. His shoulders, still tense from the silent encounter with the Twi’lek, deflate as he drops his helmet to regard you properly and you smile at the way he seems to relax at the sight of you, as if it’s something he’s been thinking about all day.

Perhaps he has, just as you have thought of him nearly every moment of every day since your last meeting with him.

No, you're definitely not infatuated with the massive warrior and everything about him.

Even though you’re obviously no threat to him, the way he greets you with a kind nod and a gentle rasp of your name has you feeling a severe depth of respect for the warrior. Selfishly, you ponder if you’re the only one outside of his tribe that he seems to tolerate, understanding that you don’t have any ulterior motives when it comes to his Creed or what he hides under that scuffed up bucket.

“I’m surprised to see you so soon, Mandalorian,” You greet him with a tilt of your own head, mimicking his own actions, “I thought it would be at least another month before I saw you again.”

His helmet cocks further to the side and you think he must be amused by your soft sentiment as his fingers flex against his big, padded thighs, “Did I not warn you that you would see me sooner than you would wish for?”

Your brows rise high on your forehead and you shake your head a little at the stubborn warrior’s smug inquiry, “And what if I wished for you sooner than the week’s end?”

"Then I would think you missed me or something."

The way he speaks is so gruff and nonchalant that you think he must be covering up something softer in his modulated voice and you can’t help but to smile at his unwillingness to show you any kind of intense emotion. His helmet lowers even more until his visor is eye level with you and you’re sure that he’s judging you through the guise of that irritating blue armor, though you simply ignore it and continue to peer up at the warrior with unrelenting sass.

Something that he seems to thoroughly revel in.

“You miss me, saviin’ika? Is that why you were dying to see me?”

“Perhaps I just missed having someone to walk me home to scare off all the bad guys,” You cross your arms over your chest as a knowing smile spreads across your lips and you shift your weight to one leg, “Don’t flatter yourself, Mandalorian. Cockiness doesn’t suit you.”

He makes a funny noise that seems to catch in his throat and you grin at him when you realize he’s trying not to laugh at your words.

“If I remember correctly--” He sounds utterly amused as he idly rolls his helmet around and you nearly cringe when you hear joints cracking in his stiff neck, “I didn’t walk you home last time--I carried you. ‘Was even nice enough to even take off your shoes and take out your braids, or were you too sleepy to remember?”

“I remember all too well.”

Your cheeks burn furiously as you’re suddenly aware of the thick braids currently tugging at your scalp and you remember how gentle and graceful his fingers had felt as he deftly loosened your plaits while you struggled to not fall asleep. Your tongue is suddenly heavy and fuzzy in your mouth when you think of how you’ve fallen asleep every night since your last encounter, longing and yearning for the pleasant, soothing touch of his rough fingertips massaging the soreness from your scalp. You try to remember the last time anyone has ever touched you without any ill intentions and you think of your mother, with such soft and tender hands that would gracefully part thick strands of hair before skillfully plaiting them.

The thought of a huge Mandalorian attempting to braid your hair nearly makes you giggle out loud, though you think he wouldn’t be too terrible at it since his fingers hadn’t struggled in the slightest against your intricate plaits.

Even though the memories of your mother combing and braiding your long locks is all but a faded memory, you’re certain that the blue Mandalorian’s touch had somehow been gentler than hers--caressing your cheeks and lips as though you were a jagged shard of glass that would somehow pierce his thick armor. Was he afraid of accidentally hurting you despite knowing you can take a hard hit to the face and bounce back like it didn’t even affect you? You knew you were quite small, especially compared to him, but he had reassured you during your last meeting that he did not believe you to be weak.

You suddenly wonder if the warrior fears you more than you had once feared him, though you can’t think of a rational reason at to why someone bred and born to not feel fear would feel it towards someone like you?

He’s still observing you intensely when you finally muster up the strength to speak softly, “I never thanked you for that--taking my braids out. My hair would have been a tangled mess in the morning if it weren’t for you.”

“You didn’t have to thank me,” His baritone drops the slightest and you find your cheeks growing even hotter at the gruffness of his modulated voice; you’re skin feels like burning coals as he continues to talk, keeping his shiny visor trained intensely on your face, “Your eyes are very expressive, saviin’ika.”

You lower your head a little, hoping that he doesn’t see how flushed your face must be as you speak softly and shakily, “Is that a compliment, Mandalorian?”

“Do you want it to be one?”

Pushing himself off the wall, he lazily closes the short distance between the two of you, stoic and calm as ever. You briefly wonder if he ever gets worried or stressed, but something about the way he carries himself so gracefully and confidently makes you think it’s not often others attempt to challenge him.

You give up on your prayers to the Maker for your blue Mandalorian to not notice the intense blush in your cheeks, realizing that he must have some sort of advanced technology in the damn helmet to detect the heat rising to the surface of your skin. 

He lowers his helmet until his metal chin is nearly poking your nose before he slightly tilts it to the side; you’re not sure how such an action could be simultaneously soft and intense, yet he somehow manages it and you suppress a shaky exhale when he reaches forward to skim the tips of his leather-clad fingers along the outer shell of your ear. The violet tucked there must be close to falling, because he plucks it away from your cartilage and deftly situates it somewhere in the thick braid that’s wrapped around the crown of your head.

Your own voice drops to a low murmur as he fixes another flower that you tucked in your braid earlier; you find it endearing that he seems so hellbent on making sure none of your vibrant flowers fall from your unusually tamed mane.

“What would you think of me if I wanted it to be a compliment?”

A noise that’s reminiscent of a grunt getting caught in his modulator has you smiling a little wider as he shakes his helmet at your harmless question, though it seems to have him utterly flustered as he speaks in a more rushed tone, “I wouldn’t think of you any differently, but if it is rare for you to be complimented, I wouldn’t mind doing it more. You… I think... fuck...”

He seems to grow slightly shy and you smile demurely at how captivating someone so large and intimidating can be so nervous with something as simple as giving a compliment; you think him to be an enigma, in more ways than one. 

“You think me to be what, Mandalorian?”

He shakes his helmet again and promptly changes the subject; you wonder if he’ll ever admit to you what he truly wanted to say--what he thought about you.

“I think you look well rested,” He observes out loud and you ponder if he’s smiling underneath that blue helmet as he swiftly deflects your gentle question, “Your injuries look a lot better as well. The bruising is no longer there and there’s barely a mark on your lip."

You grin up at him, eyes sparkling as you admire the way the moonlight reflects off of his blue armor, “Thanks to you, Mandalorian. I really did not wish for you to use that salve on me; I’ve had worse than a bruised cheek or a split lip.”

Immediately, you realize you should not have said that as his fingers curl into loose fists at his sides and you let out a tired sigh.

Why do you always manage to stick your foot in your mouth?

“How much worse?”

“I shouldn’t have said that,” You murmur, avoiding the intense gaze of his shiny visor to stare at the geometric shape embedded into his cuirass instead, “It is nothing I am incapable of handling myself.”

“Do you not get tired of taking care of everyone and never having someone to take care of you?”

The tone of his voice is tender and something about the genuine curiosity of his question leaves you without any breath in your lungs, as if he’s some sort of thief. Nobody has ever asked you something of that nature and you’re certain it’s because nobody has ever cared like he seems to; you don’t find it fair for someone to feel such concern for you.

You suddenly feel undeserving of all the sentiments he’s showered you with, but you will accept them for as long as he chooses to tolerate your presence.

“I take care of myself, Mandalorian,” You inform him with a sad smile, shaking your head a little when his shoulders tense, “Always have and always will.”

“You need someone, saviin’ika,” He insists, gently grabbing your chin and urging you to look up at his visor, “Everybody needs someone.”

You swallow the lump in your throat as you spot all of the scuffed up marks and divots in his deep blue helmet, “What about you?”

“What about me?”

You feel flustered and timid suddenly, realizing you’re just like him in the sense that you’re not used to expressing your own emotions and you feel impossibly small and vulnerable when he lightly squeezes your chin.

“Are you not my friend?”

A leather index finger grazing your jawline has you nearly coming undone as he speaks with that deep baritone, “I can be whatever you want me to be, saviin’ika.”

“What if I’m not sure what I want you to be?”

His leather digits lazily and dutifully skim the little valley between your chin and bottom lip, “I think you already know.”

His fingers move upwards to where your cheek had once been nearly the same shade of his dull armor, though it’s now healed into a light, barely-there yellow tint and you’re reminded of how he had taken care of you just a week ago. When you had first woke up after a few peaceful hours of sleep, you had initially thought you dreamt the previous night--him carrying you home and tending to your minor wounds with the bacta salve you had given him. Upon looking in the mirror when you first arrived at your office, you had been pleasantly surprised to find that the black and blue bruise had turned into a healthier shade of yellow and the tiny gash on your bottom lip was barely a scar. If you tried to imagine it hard enough, you swore you could still feel his index finger trailing up the apple of your cheek and to the tip of your ear; you swore you could still feel his rough, skilled fingers rubbing comfort into your sore scalp.

You had longed to feel his rough fingers on your face again and as a leather digit currently strokes the tail of your brow, you wonder if it would be hard to convince him to remove his glove again.

With an intense blush turning your cheeks a vibrant shade of pink, you ponder what else he can do with those fingers--those graceful hands.

When he doesn’t say anything else, you gesture to the canvas bag that he’s still tightly gripping in a large hand and clear your throat a little, though your voice sounds slightly coarse and wavering, “What’cha got there? Do some shopping in the marketplace?”

“Not quite,” He hesitates as he slowly lowers his helmet, his visor shifting between you and whatever is in the bag, “I want to take you somewhere, if that is alright with you. It's a safe place that nobody knows about."

You perk up, not wanting to go home and having to deal with your father’s anger yet, so you nod enthusiastically and immediately wrap your fingers into the crook of his padded elbow, as if it’s pure instinct at this point and you suppose it is. Though you’ve only ran into him three times, you think that after the night when he had carried you home and tended to your wounds, you would trust the Mandalorian to guide you anywhere on Nevarro, as long as he was there with you. Everyone always avoids the big warrior and you’re sure that if anyone attempted to cross him, he would deal with the situation swiftly and efficiently.

The Mandalorian is ever dutiful and diligent as he leads you in a different direction from your home and you can’t help but to scan your surroundings wildly as you two wander through the marketplace that's still bustling, even after the sun disappears and gives way to brilliant moonlight. 

Though most of the food vendors are selling some sort of questionable cooked meat, your eyes widen when you pass a stand that is offering all sorts of vibrant fruits and vegetables. Much to your dismay and embarrassment, your stomach growls and you can’t stop your head from turning to stare at the fresh food as the two of you continue past the vendor. It’s far more expensive than you’ve ever been able to afford, but nonetheless, you find yourself always checking the prices whenever you wander through the marketplace.

You don’t notice the blue Mandalorian observing the wistful expression painted along your features with a slight tilt of his helmet.

“About five miles west of the village, there is a small cave located at the base of the cliffs,” His deep baritone pulls you from your thoughts of fresh fruit and crisp vegetables and you curiously blink up at him, “Inside the cave, there are several hot springs that stay warm from the lava underground and flowers that light up the entire place. I want to take you there.”

“That sounds lovely and all, but five miles?” You feel bad that he’s going out of his way to do something nice for you and all you can think of is how sore your feet are from a long shift and your worn boots rubbing painfully against already formed blisters and bruises, “I couldn’t even do the half mile to my house last week.”

“Do you not see the jetpack on my back, saviin’ika? I wouldn't make you walk that distance after you've been on your feet all day; I am not that cruel.”

You immediately stop walking, your face growing pale at the mere thought of him bringing you high up off the ground and he must sense your intense fear and hesitation, because he immediately cocks his helmet to the side and promptly speaks up when your hand slips away from his elbow.

“What? You scared of flying or something?”

It sounds like he’s teasing you, a twinge of condescension apparent in his modulated voice, and it immediately makes you scowl at him because you have every right to be afraid when you’ve never had the option to travel off of Nevarro, let alone the galaxy, like he’s clearly had in the past. You forcefully remind yourself that most of the people in your little village are bounty hunters and criminals that get to travel for a living and that the feeling of being in the sky or in space was something he’d gotten acquainted with long ago.

“I’ve spent my entire life with my feet on the ground, Mandalorian,” You remind him with a harmless glare, craning your neck so you can properly look at his shiny visor underneath the pretty moonlight, “Of course I’m afraid.”

“You do not strike me as the type of woman to fear such things, not after everything you have already endured.”

You let out a petulant sigh, your cheeks puffing out in embarrassment as you narrow your eyes at the huge warrior and stubbornly cross your arms over your chest. You gaze at the silver tips of the jetpack that barely peek over the top of his broad shoulders and you can’t help but to wonder if there’s a possibility of the heavy piece of equipment malfunctioning mid-flight. Even though the rest of his armor is quite dinged up and a little rough around the edges, you think that his weapons and the jetpack look brand new, as though they’ve never been used before. His weapons and other pieces of equipment must be dear to him, you realize, just as your plants and flowers and the cuffs you wear in your braids are precious to you and you think he must take great care of them to keep them in good shape.

You’ve trusted the blue Mandalorian so far, so why do you fear the thought of him dropping you or his jetpack malfunctioning?

“Y-You’re sure it’s safe?”

“I would not let anything or anyone harm you while you’re with me, saviin’ika,” He holds out a large hand for you to take and you observe it warily for a few moments before slotting your fingers between his leather ones, “I know how my weapons and equipment work; if I didn’t, I wouldn’t be doing this.”

You smile softly at him and nod your understanding, “I trust you.”

“Come on,” He rasps, his voice a little softer when he carefully gives your hand a little tug and you let him guide you once again, “We need to get out of the village a little ways so I don’t draw attention with the sen’tra.��

You assume the word means ‘jetpack’ in his native tongue and you breathe out a soft laugh, “I think your armor draws plenty of attention, Mandalorian.”

He shakes his helmet, but continues to lead you to the outskirts of the noisy village, and you find that the silence shared between the two of you is a peaceful one, rather than an awkward one. Not known to be much of a talker, you’re grateful that the Mandalorian doesn’t really seem to expect a steady flow of conversation between the two of you, as he seems to do most of the talking. Though your feet ache from a long day of work, you find that the combination of his gruff voice and the firm pressure of his fingers intertwined with yours makes for a sweet distraction and you barely acknowledge the calluses and blisters covering your feet and ankles. He speaks mostly of the hot springs he’s taking you to and that the warm water will be good for sore legs; he briefly talks about his tribe when you shyly bring up traditional Mandalorian customs.

You listen and cling to every word closely, saving it for future reference so you don’t accidentally offend the blue warrior with oblivious words and naive questions.

It’s merely a twenty minute journey to the outskirts where most don’t venture to unless they have transportation, and even then, the rocky terrain and creatures that roam the barren lands are enough to keep most people inside the bleak village.

It was only another thing your father had warned you of when you had once attempted to run away when you were thirteen or fourteen; you hadn’t made it very far when he found you, completely lost and dehydrated miles and miles away from the village. Seeing the expanse of the barren lands now, you wonder what the hell you had been thinking as a teenager, thinking you could actually survive in such a harsh environment where there was no civilization for hundreds of miles; you were surprised you had lasted more than a day.

“Is something wrong?”

You blink owlishly, not even realizing the Mandalorian had been talking to you for a while now and you shake your head a little, “N-No… it’s just been a while since I’ve seen the barren lands. Not many venture far out the village without transportation and come back in one piece.”

If he notices the shakiness in your small voice, he decides not to mention it as he speaks.

“I won’t…” He lowers his helmet until the chin of his helmet is nearly touching your forehead and you shyly peer up at him through your lashes, “I won’t let anything happen to you--you know that, right?”

Even though his natural voice is distorted and disguised by his vocoder, you hear how genuine he’s being and you nod with a small, albeit nervous, smile, “I know. I trust you, Mandalorian. Just… please don’t drop me.”

The heavy-infantry warrior doesn’t say anything and merely nods as you reluctantly let go of his hand so he can wrap his arm around your waist, keeping a firm pressure without actually hurting you. Normally, the foreign contact would bother you and have you bursting at the seams, but you think that you don’t mind the way he holds you close to his warm body, like he’s trying to shield you from the horrors of this planet. You think that if you had someone to hold you like this every night for the rest of your days, you wouldn’t hold nearly as much fear in your heart that currently lingers there like a festering wound that refuses to heal properly.

Your breath catches in your throat as the Mandalorian’s clean and warm scent invades your senses and intoxicates you in the most delightful way possible; now that you’re not half asleep, you can actually appreciate the earthy scent that seeps through the cracks of his dull blue armor. Your cheeks are flushed as you wonder if he’s enjoying the close contact as much as you are--if he had hoped for this when he came up with the idea to take you to a place far from the village.

Instinctively, you stand up on your tippy toes and slip your arms around his broad shoulders, your heart racing at the thought of what’s about to happen. Your eyes barely peer over his taut shoulder and you hold your breath when he quietly informs you that he’s going to start the jetpack; you’re hasty as you squeeze your eyes shut when upon hearing the heavy piece of equipment come to life.

The Mandalorian gives your waist a comforting squeeze when you tense a little as he slowly takes off and you force yourself not to panic or open your eyes when you feel your boots slowly leave the ground. While the hand that’s gripping the canvas bag remains tightly wrapped around your waist, you feel his other hand come up to squeeze the spot between your shoulder blades. You’re not sure how high up the two of you are and you’re not sure if you want to look, so instead of gazing down at the rocky terrain that’s far below your boots, you turn your head up to peer at the shimmering stars in the night sky instead, admiring how they seem brighter and bigger the further you two make it out of the village. The moon has more of a yellowish tint to it tonight and appears larger than usual, but you think that perhaps being far away from the village and high up in the air has something to do with the lovely spectacle.

As cold air whips around the two of you, you find yourself grateful that you decided to tightly braid your hair that morning, though a few stubborn locks of hair escapes their restraints and lightly whips at your cheeks and forehead. You can’t stop yourself from shivering the higher he ascends, the atmosphere growing a little more frigid and you thank the Maker that you chose to wear longer shorts underneath your thin dress, the undergarments ending mid-thigh.

“See? Not so bad.”

You huff against his neck, still refusing to look down as you respond just loud enough for him to hear, “You wouldn’t be saying that if I threw up on you.”

His shoulders shake a little and you think he must be suppressing a bout of boisterous laughter as his arms tighten around you, though it’s not enough to hurt you or make it difficult to breathe. You wonder how often he uses the jetpack, especially if he spends most of his days dwelling deep underground, though something about the way he expertly navigates through the barren lands makes you think he’s incredibly experienced and well-trained in using the advanced equipment. He seems just as relaxed high up in the air as he does walking on land and you force yourself to keep your attention focused solely on the soft whirring noise his jetpack makes, along with how the constellations in the night sky grow more prominent the further he takes you away from the village.

You shift your arms around him a little, trying to get more comfortable against his metal chest; he must sense your discomfort because he easily hikes you up a little higher up his torso until your elbows are resting on top of his shoulders and your temple and cheek is lightly pressed against the side of his scuffed up helmet. The cold bite of the helmet makes you shiver a little harder against his chest and you try to focus only on the warmth that lingers between the cracks of his blue armor.

“Have you ever been up there?” You ponder so quietly that you figure he won’t hear it, though he turns his helmet a little to indicate that he’s listening, “With the stars?”

“It’s been a while, but yes.”

You suddenly have so many questions.

You want to ask him what it’s like to travel among the stars and if he misses it at all, or if he simply got tired of all the traveling and being away from his tribe for an extensive amount of time. Has he traveled to the Inner Rim? Or did he only stick to the Outer Rim where he knew it would be easier to find work? If you asked him to describe what the stars looked like as he flew through hyperspace at blinding speed, what would he say to you? Would he describe the constellations and scenery of different planets in great detail? Would he describe the colors of a catastrophic supernova? The shapes and vibrancy of different types of stars? Or would he merely shake his head at your childish questions?

You have all of these questions, yet one in particular has you speaking out loud against the side of his helmet.

“Was it lonely up there?”

He’s silent for a solid minute or two and you think that either he didn’t hear you, or he’s simply choosing not to display any vulnerability in front of you. It makes sense that he wouldn’t be willing to share much of his past with you and you don’t blame him for it, understanding that you two are similar in the sense that it’s difficult to speak of your feelings and traumatizing memories out loud. You wonder if his own memories haunt him when he tries to fall asleep at night and… wait. 

Does the huge Mandalorian even sleep? 

The only times you’ve interacted with him are late at night or some ungodly hour in the morning and you can’t help but to wonder when he finds time for sleep if he’s so busy providing for his beloved tribe.

“Yes,” His arm tightens around your waist and he turns his helmet in an attempt to gaze at you, though you know there’s really no way for him to see you, what with how firmly your cheek is pressed into the side of his matte dark blue helm, “I just didn’t know it at the time.”

You swallow the lump in your throat, thinking of a lonely Mandalorian navigating through hyperspace, all alone without the comfort of another, “What made you realize how lonely it was?”

You wonder if his own cheeks are burning painfully under that metal helmet as he reluctantly answers your question and you hope he doesn’t feel pressured to bend to your every whim or inquiry as you painfully crane your neck backwards to peer into the abyss that is his shiny visor, “I didn’t know at the time--what made everything feel so lonely--but now I think I know after spending enough time with you and seeing what your father does to you, how he makes you feel."

You tilt your head a little, obviously confused, “Wh-What do you mean?”

“I see a lot of my past self in you,” He admits, fingers lightly curling against your waist, and you think he’s making fun of you, “I didn’t have anyone and I found myself missing the tribe, but I didn’t want to believe that I was lonely and homesick. I see it in your eyes, how lonely and homesick you are as well.”

“What do you mean homesick?” His helmet cocks to the side as you continue, “You think I consider that little hut a home?”

“I think you long for a home you’ve never had,” He tentatively answers after a few moments of severe contemplation, “Like I said earlier, saviin’ika, your eyes are very expressive. Even when you smile, your eyes look sad and it reminds me of how I felt when I was traveling all alone.”

You move your head so your cheek is pressed back against the side of his helmet again, not wanting him to see the despair and loneliness that apparently seem to linger in your expressive eyes, “Is that why you showed up again tonight?”

“It’s part of the reason why,” The blue warrior concedes and it surprises you a little, as he’s usually closed off and so unwilling to expose himself to you, “I wanted to make sure that you were alright--that you weren’t hurt. I don’t... I don’t like seeing your face covered in bruises.”

You smile and slowly close your eyes, an unfamiliar warmth expanding in your chest as the thought of someone caring about your well-being lights your soul ablaze. Resisting the urge to kiss the light blue patch that’s painted in the hollow of his cheek, you settle on dropping your head so it’s pressed firmly into the bunched up fabric at the base of his neck before letting out a deep sigh. 

You hope that the thickness of his armor prevents him from feeling how hard your heart is beating for him--for the selflessness of his words and actions--and you wonder if everyone else in his tribe is like him, soft and warm underneath such unyielding and cold armor. Something about the violent and ruthless energy he exudes when dealing with others makes you think he’s not as unrelenting when he’s with his people and they probably don’t expect him to be.

If anything, painful headbutts and heavy fists thrown at one another is how they probably show their love.

You feel a little lightheaded as your blue warrior starts to slowly descend and you're grateful when you eventually see the rocky ground in your peripheral vision. When the worn soles of your boots are finally pressed against solid ground, the Mandalorian makes sure to keep an arm wrapped around your middle, your legs feeling like jelly and your body swaying a little from disorientation. 

Eventually, you reluctantly pull your head away from the warmth of his neck and slowly turn to peer up at him through your lashes, blushing at how close he is to you. He’s bent over a little so his visor is eye-level with you and you’re absolutely aware of the way his fingers are splayed wide on your hip, his thumb stroking comforting circles against the flimsy fabric of your dusty gray dress.

Is he aware of what he does to you? How frantic your heart is as it races from the way he holds you tenderly to his own chest, as if he wants to take you far away from the village and build a safe home for you inside of his own heart.

The strange tension only goes away when you speak in a breathy whisper, “Thank you for not dropping me, Mandalorian.”

“I would never do such a thing,” He reassures you and clears his throat before standing up straight so he’s towering over you again; he reaches up to slowly brush some unruly baby hairs away from your forehead and you hope he doesn’t notice the way you shiver from the soft gesture, “What kind of man would I be if I killed the only nurse in the village?”

His playful tone makes you giggle a little and you happily take his hand when he kindly offers it to you again. You’re a little surprised to find huge cliffs surrounding the two of you and you realize that you were so focused on the beautiful starlight the whole journey to the cave that you didn’t even realize he had been guiding the two of you throughout a deep canyon. The Mandalorian is patient as you gaze up at the enormous cliffs with admiration, not even realizing that such beauty could exist on a planet like Nevarro.

“I’ve never been this far out of the village,” You inform him with a breathless sigh, awe and wonder laced in your quiet voice, “I never thought the barren lands could be this pretty.”

“Not everything on this planet is terrible, saviin’ika,” He urges you towards the small, jagged entrance at the base of the cliff and you hesitate upon noticing the ominous abyss that would guide you two further beneath the planet’s surface. You watch as the blue Mandalorian calmly presses a button on his yellow-tinged vambrace, causing a bright light to emanate from the rectangular piece of metal attached to the top right side of his helmet.

“So that’s what it does,” You say out loud before you can stop yourself, earning a chuckle from the large man.

“What did you think it was for?”

You shrug as you let him pull you into the entrance of the quaint grotto, “Decoration?”

The boisterous bark of a laugh he lets out warms your heart and has you grinning as you forget about the fact that he’s leading you somewhere so secluded that he could easily hurt or take advantage of you without anyone knowing about his intentions. Out of anyone you’ve ever crossed paths with in the village, you’re certain that the Mandalorian is the only one you would ever trust to lead you deep inside a cave where terrifying creatures or monsters might linger, though you fear nothing as you stay close to his side.

“I can assure you that none of my weapons, armor, or equipment is for decoration,” He informs you lightheartedly, giving your hand a firm squeeze as he calmly guides the way further into the cold grotto, “The hot springs aren’t too much further away--stay close, saviin.”

“I do not think you would let me stray far,” You chuckle as you let him walk a step in front of you, just to be safe.

He lets go of your hand as he gracefully hops down a steep step that’s a solid ten or twelve feet and you hesitate as he turns to gaze up at you.

Trying to mimic his grace, you move to hop off the jagged ledge, though the tip of your oversized boot gets caught in a deep crack and you let out a sharp squeak as you fall forward, nearly face first into the ground. Before you can properly react and attempt to steady yourself, the diligent Mandalorian is swift and efficient with his skillful hands and somehow manages to keep his grip on your hips light enough to prevent any bruising or soreness that would possibly occur from being manhandled by the blue warrior. You let out a small noise of pain when your chin collides with his cuirass and he’s quick and even a little frantic as he cups your flushed cheeks and tilts your head backwards so he can get a better look at your face, his leather thumb moving to ghost along your sore chin.

He almost sounds ashamed when he speaks up and you feel your heart plummet into the pit of your stomach.

“I hurt you.”

“You… what?” You don’t know what to say, absolutely shocked by how guilty he sounds as he continues to lightly stroke your chin, “You did no such thing, Mandalorian. My clumsiness is not your fault and you should not blame yourself for saving me from worse injuries. Please, keep going. I want to see the hot springs.”

His thumb grazes what you’re sure will be a bruise in the morning, but you think it’s the first time someone has ever unintentionally left a mark on you without any ill intent. With a sharp nod, the blue Mandalorian presses a firm hand to the small of your back and guides you deeper into the grotto, though you’re certain by the way his visor keeps tilting down towards the lower half of your face that he’s still upset over your lack of grace.

“I would not think a nurse to be clumsy.”

He doesn’t sound admonishing or judgmental, but more upset and confused than anything and you can’t help but to find his curiosity endearing, “I am a trained nurse, not a skilled warrior like you. The only thing graceful about me are my hands.”

His helmet cocks to the side, “I’ll be sure to remember that for future reference.”

Your cheeks burn viciously at the implication of his words and deciding it best to not dig yourself into a deeper hole, you grow silent and continue to follow him.

A tiny gasp escapes you when you hear the unfamiliar sounds of running water and you immediately perk up, no longer hesitant as you skip in front of the Mandalorian to venture further within the dwellings of the cold cave. Luckily, the little flashlight attached to his helmet guides your way as you follow the unfamiliar sounds trickling water and you can hear the warrior quickly shuffling to follow you, as if he’s worried you’re going to trip and fall again. Only when he gently advises you to slow down, your hasty footsteps dissolve into a slower stroll and you’re barely aware of the way you grab his hand once again, tugging him towards the sound of rushing water.

When you finally make it to the destination he had longed to show you in the first place, you freeze in awe and wonder.

“Stars,” You murmur as you gaze upon the gorgeous, glowing plants that surround a thin creek of aquamarine water, along with several little ponds filled with steaming hot water, “This is…”

As you stare at the budding flowers and crystal-like plants that glow with a whimsical shimmer and brighten up the tavern, you realize you’ve never seen anything quite as beautiful in your entire life. The flowers that miraculously grow underground are all vibrant shades of sapphire and magenta and even though you should be intrigued by the steamy ponds filled with crystal blue water, a huge, unintentional smile spreads across your lips as your fingertips lightly skim along silky azure petals.

You can’t stop yourself from plucking a healthy-looking flower and bringing it up to your nostrils with a soft smile, your eyelids slipping shut when the floral scent invades your senses completely. If you thought the huge cliffs and shimmering constellations had been beautiful, they had absolutely nothing on the vibrant flowers that softly illuminate the grotto, or the aquamarine water that has steam rising from the surface. With the stem of the flower still intertwined between your fingers, you slowly make your way towards one of the smaller hot springs in the cave and slowly sink to your knees so you can lightly skim your fingers along the surface of the delightfully warm water.

A grin tugs at your lips as you submerge your hand completely and wriggle your fingers around.

“Mesh’la.”

You immediately turn your head in his direction, inquisitive eyes scanning his dark blue helmet because it’s the first time he’s said that word in front of your and you wonder what the hell the Mandalorian must be calling you in his native language. You hope it’s nothing too insulting or demeaning, though the way he breathes it so fondly makes you think he must be complimenting you, rather than throwing judgment your way. His helmet jolts a little, as if he doesn’t realize he’s been staring at you through the safety of his visor, and he clears his throat a little before slowly sauntering to where you’re settled on the edge of the hot spring.

“You can…” He sounds a little hesitant as he approaches you and crouches down so he’s not towering over you, “You can take off your shoes and socks if you want. I brought…” A soft expression crosses your features when you realize he’s nervous as he gazes down at the canvas bag he’s clutching tightly, “I brought this for you.”

Reluctantly, he shoves the small bag in your direction and looks away as you peer inside at the contents, your eyes widening when your fingers graze thick leather, “I-I can’t accept this, Mandalorian. You have already done far too much for me and I would not be able to repay you.”

“You need new boots, saviin’ika,” He observes you as you reluctantly remove the shoes from the bag completely, fingers inspecting the quality of the leather, “Besides, these were made for another Mandalorian in the covert but were too small; they should fit you well enough.”

“I don’t have enough credits to repay you.”

"Then don't."

"Manda--"

“Maker, you really are a stubborn little thing,” The blue warrior says in a deadpan tone, reaching out so his fingertips can lightly graze your flushed cheek; immediately, you remember the way he had caressed your cheeks and lips just a week ago and you lower your head so he can’t see the longing in your eyes.

The Mandalorian lets out an exasperated sigh when you hold out the boots for him to take, though he simply shakes his helmet, “Not everything requires a price. You gave me that salve even though I couldn’t afford it,” You open your mouth to argue with him, though he’s faster and much more stubborn than you are, “If you truly wish to pay me back, then do it with your company.”

“I don’t really make for the best companionship.”

“I think your companionship would be the only kind I wished for, outside of my tribe.”

You ignore the intense warmth in your cheeks as you reluctantly place the boots on the ground next to you before reaching back into the bag to see what else he brought for you. Upon pulling out a jar that’s filled with white, rocky chunks, you perk up and quickly unscrew the lid to smell the aromatic salt; the intense eucalyptus scent nearly brings tears to your eyes as it tickles your nostrils and clears your sinuses.

“Healing salts?” You say it as a question, though it’s more of an observation, and you turn to the blue warrior with raised brows and a slight smile, “I feel like a spoiled woman.”

He grunts and turns his visor away from you, standing up to take a seat on a flat rock that’s right behind you and you can feel the armor covering his knee grazing your shoulder blade, “You care too much for others and not enough for yourself, little nurse. It would be good for you to relax for a while.”

“And what about you, Mandalorian?” You unfold your legs from underneath your body and start to unlace your worn out boots, avoiding his shiny visor as you continue, “I’m sure those weapons and that jetpack must weigh down on your body, no?”

After tugging off your boots and socks, you roll your head backwards so you can peer up at him. Despite all of his clunky weapons and equipment, he seems relaxed as he leans forward a little, padded elbows resting on top of his thighs; he cocks his helmet to the side as he observes your upside down gaze.

He flexes his fingers a little and you think it must be some sort of habit for him to constantly crack his stiff joints, “You’re asking a Mandalorian to disarm his weapons?”

You giggle a little and turn your attention back to the hot spring as you slowly submerge your feet into the soothing hot water, shuddering at how good it feels after being on your feet all day, "I would not ask you to do such a thing, silly man. I'm simply asking for you to relax with me; you deserve it just as much as I do."

He huffs out an amused noise and you turn to gaze at him over your shoulder to watch him slowly remove the cannon that's as tall as you, propping it up against the rock next to his thigh. You raise your brows when he lets out an exasperated grunt upon removing his jetpack, cursing in his native language as he rolls his shoulders.

"Told you all of that equipment must weigh down on you," He shakes his helmet at your gentle quip and lightly nudges your shoulders with his knee before removing his utility belt, "It is good for you to relax too, Mandalorian, especially if your tribe requires your protection."

"You needed this more than me."

You hum as you carefully dump a small amount of the healing salts into the hot spring, avoiding his emotionless gaze as you muster up the courage to say what’s been clawing at the back of you mind since after your initial meeting with the enigmatic warrior.

“Why do you find it so important to take care of me?”

Besides the peaceful sounds of running water and chirping crickets, it’s deathly silent and you fear that the Mandalorian will refuse to answer your question. You lower your head, shame and regret burning something fierce in your cheeks as the silence overwhelms you and convinces you that he does not care about you--that it’s all part of your imagination. You hear him shuffle around and you think he’s attaching his equipment back to his armor, probably wanting to already leave the beautiful cave.

Then a bare hand is on the center of your spine and you find yourself shivering and sighing as a massive hand idly trails up your back. His callused fingers easily push past your thick braids and find purchase on your nape; an embarrassed whimper leaves you when he firmly strokes and squeezes the tension away from your stiff muscles.

“Because, mesh’la,” His voice is close to your ear and when you turn your head in the slightest, your surprised to find his visor just inches away from your eyes, “I would not stand by and watch a harsh world beat you down so easily.”

You think him to be the best thief in the village, because his next words, followed by the press of his forehead against yours, has you bereft of any air that had previously filled your lungs.

“I would much rather see you with that pretty smile that actually meets your eyes, rather than bruises and cuts on your face. I would bring you here every night if it meant seeing that light in your eyes. even if for only a few seconds.”

The smile you grace him with is so genuine and huge that it hurts your cheeks.

Though you believe the Maker to be so cruel to bless you with such a tender companionship, surely with the intentions to eventually rip it away from your grasps, you will allow yourself to feel such happiness in that moment.

sen’tra= Jetpack

saviin’ika= Little violet

mesh’la= Beautiful

Author’s Note: First off, I know I’ve said a bajillion times and I’m never going to stop saying how sweet and supportive you all are! When I first came up with the idea for this story, I certainly had no intentions of people reading it since it’s so self-indulgent and I’m just a soft baby that loves the thought of huge, tough warriors also being soft babies lol. I’m glad we’re all fans of tender Mandalorians being soft with their partners and I’m so appreciative of all the kind comments y’all have left. I hope you all continue to enjoy my story and I promise I’ll try to update as consistently as my hectic schedule will allow me to.

I love you all <3

Taglist: @parabatai-winchester​ @auty-ren​ @theocatkov​ @oloreaa​ @blindedbyyourgrace17​ @datmando​ @dartheldur​ @miscellaneous-mando​ @karpasia​ @ben-is-a-hoe​ @the-feckless-wonder​ @whatababeleia​ @maybege​

If I missed anyone, please let me know!!

[hi-hey-haechan]

78+107 with Taeyong please? Thank you!!!

Thank you for requesting! Taeyong has been bias wrecking me so hard lately, and writing this definitely increased the bias-wrecking.

78: “Don’t fucking touch what’s not yours.”

107: “Your ass is gonna be seven shades of red after that little stunt”

Warnings: dom!Taeyong, sub!reader, spanking, unprotected sex. Also, I kinda got carried away...it’s a bit long

The both of you were fairly vanilla with your antics in the bedroom, and you liked it best that way. Taeyong was always so gentle with you. When he was dominant, he was so soft, kissing you gently and intent on making you feel good. There were other times when you were more dominant, teasing him lightly, loving the sounds that spilled from his lips.

The only problem was the fact that you two weren’t often rough. You were once or twice, acting as “makeup sex.” You were completely submissive to him at those times, which was what you had wanted. Admittedly, seeing Taeyong angry was hot, and it was a total turn-on when he acted a bit rougher with you.

You wanted to be a brat for him, though. You wanted him to punish you, to overstimulate you until tears ran down your face. But you were not gonna submit to him easily.

The only difficulty was figuring out how to do this. You needed to make him jealous...but how?

When you came up with a plan, the boys were all over at your place to watch a movie. It was hot outside, so you had an excuse to wear a short pair of shorts and a cropped top that was tight, showing off your chest and stomach. Taeyong had made it clear on multiple occasions that you in this outfit did things to him. Now, not only would it do things to him, but it would also make him so jealous if other members saw you dressed like that, as well.

When Taeyong and the boys arrived, your boyfriend walked up to you, placed a hand on the small in your back, and kissed you gently. It was just a kiss hello, and his lips were feather-soft against yours, lingering for a few seconds. When he pulled away, your lips were curved into a small grin. He looked gorgeous, with his hair messy and soft, and his face being absolutely gorgeous without him trying.

Taeyong did a double-take when he saw your outfit. He noted how your shirt accentuated every ridge and curve of your torso. He could see most of your legs thanks to your shorts, which were also making your ass look amazing, to him.

You noticed how his eyes frantically scanned around the room, where the boys were jumping on the couch, yelling, or running to the kitchen to raid the fridge. Donghyuck, however, was standing not-too-far away, and he was looking at you. Just as you had instructed him to do.

You and Donghyuck were close, and to see how jealous Taeyong could get, Donghyuck agreed to sort of hit on you. Taeyong’s eyes glared at Donghyuck with a chilling, piercing stare -- but to no avail. Donghyuck’s eyes would not stop scanning your body, like it was a piece of meat.

On the couch, watching a movie, you were wedged between Taeyong and Donghyuck, feeling heat coming from both of them. You were cuddling, snuggling into his shoulder while his arms were around you in a warm embrace. Your head laid on his shoulder, and his head leaned against yours. His hair briefly tickled your forehead and temples, but you weren’t complaining. You loved this so much.

Donghyuck, sitting on your right side, had his hand on your bare knee. You were glad Taeyong hadn’t noticed, or else he’d become extremely possessive, above all else.

As the movie continued, there were funny parts at which you and the group’s maknae were laughing about, as though you were sharing a joke. You hadn’t spared a glance at your boyfriend the entire movie, really, and he felt slightly conflicted. His heart kind of hurt initially, wondering if you were just talking to Donghyuck because you were tired of Taeyong.

When he looked down at your knee, he almost lost it. He saw Donghyuck smirk before sliding his hand further up your leg, lightly squeezing your thigh. You looked up at the boy and locked eyes, seeing both of you smirk at Taeyong’s probably obvious distaste.

What neither you nor Donghyuck had expected was when Taeyong released his embrace of you and stood straight up.

“Don’t fucking touch what’s not yours.” You’d never heard Taeyong speak like that, so firmly and angrily, his voice legitimately threatening.

“She doesn’t belong to you, either,” Donghyuck pointed out. He, too, was a total brat, and in this case, if it Tae more riled up, you were all for it.

When Taeyong gestured towards the door, Donghyuck knew what to do. Slowly, he left the building, waving to you and saying, “Bye, Y/N,” in the process, to provoke Taeyong to the max.

“The rest of you, out.” Your boyfriend, the leader of 127, ordered harshly. “I need to remind Y/n of why she can’t flirt with other guys.”

On their way out, you heard a joking “Use protection!” a quip that probably came from Johnny. You laughed a bit, but all you received from your usually soft boyfriend was a glare. His eyes were black, and there was a prominent bulge in the front of his jeans. Had just jealousy impacted him that much?

“What’s the safe word?” he asked you as soon as the front door shut. Despite you two not often going rough, he’d made you have a safe word ever since your very first time, and he made you repeat it each time you had sex.

“Mango.”

“Good, now, care to tell me what the hell that was? You, wearing this outfit, flirting with Donghyuck, letting him feel you up like that? “

You had nothing to serve as your excuse, your explanation. You couldn’t bring yourself to say, “I wanted you to punish me, so I flirted with another guy.” As a result, you stayed silent.

“Strip,” Taeyong ordered in a deep, dominant voice, the one with which he’d rap like there was no tomorrow. “Your ass is gonna be seven different shades of red after that little stunt.”

Did he just threaten to spank you? Was this really happening? “And if I don’t?” You didn’t think it would get this far, so you hadn’t come up with a plan that would provoke him to the max.

His eyes locked with yours, and his were so dark and intense that you looked away. Screw you and your indifference to his orders. When he said, “You are NOT going to be a brat today,” you didn’t know how to react. “You’re acting like this on purpose,” he realized out loud. His voice deepened a bit, husky, laced with obvious desire.”You want me to do this to you. You want to see how riled up I can get before I snap.”

He was completely right about that, about how you wanted him to punish you and ruin you. “Well, how about you tell me exactly what you’re going to do to me?” you proposed.Your panties in that moment were embarrassingly wet, turned on by Taeyong’s unshattering dominance.

His jaw clenched, and Taeyong turned around and grabbed your wrists, pinning you up against the wall with your hands above your head. His lithe body was pressed flush against yours, allowing you to feel his erection pressing against the lower part of your stomach. This only made you needier.

“You wanna know what I’m gonna do to you?” He grinded his hips against you, providing himself some friction, and only arousing you further His lips were right next to your ear, and the words he spoke were hisses, the rumble of his deep voice having an effect on you. His hot breath hit your ear, and if felt so intimate yet so dirty. His hot lips were ghosting the skin and cartilage of your ear, brushing against you so lightly whenever he’d so much as speak. “I’m gonna spank you so many times that your ass will be decorated in shades of pink and red. I’m gonna pound into you so hard that you’ll be screaming my name, and then you won’t be able to walk for the next week. I’m gonna overstimulate you until you’re crying.”

At his words, you whimpered -- actually whimpered, without actually meaning to. You mentally cursed at yourself for submitting so easily to him, but everything he was saying -- god, you wanted that so badly. So much for continuing your act as a brat.

Taeyong practically dragged you to the bedroom, and he sat down on the bed, glaring at you. “Now, are you going to be a good girl and strip for me, or will I have to do it myself?”

Wordlessly, you pulled your cropped top over your head. You then unzipped your shorts, sliding out of them, leaving you in just your bra and panties. You wanted to be a tease, but you had to admit that you were just as eager for Taeyong’s punishment as he was.

Taeyong was sitting on the edge of the bed, palming himself through his jeans. His jaw was set and his eyes were dark, only turning you on even further. You unclasped your bra, sliding it off of you, and then finally removed your panties, which were soaked. You needed him inside of you right then and there, but he was not going to give you what you wanted so easily.

“Remember your safe word.” He then beckoned for you to come closer to him, and positioned you so you were laying on his legs perpendicularly. His bare hand came down to rub the skin of your ass. “Count,” he ordered, his voice deep..

His hand came down harshly on your ass. It stung, and your back arched a bit. You gasped at the sudden pain, which somehow was pleasurable. You’d wanted this for so long. The pain was fresh and stinging, but some part of you enjoyed it, basking in the sharp feeling of just a single spank. You choked out a “one,” right after his hand had come down, just as he ordered. To soothe the pain, he rubbed the stinging skin a bit, which was a bit pleasurable.

He continued, the his actions bringing immediate pain and them some pleasure, and he caressed the stinging skin following each slap. You cried out, the pain sharp, but it was an addicting kind of sting. After ten spanks, which felt more like 50, he was finished.

He looked down and admired his work, your ass red from the harsh pain he’d inflicted. Gently, he rubbed the red, stinging skin, attempting to ease the pain. You let out the breath you’d been holding, feeling yourself become more relaxed after that.

“On your back,” he ordered, and he quickly pulled off his shirt. For a second, you couldn’t help but admire his beautiful physique. He unzipped his jeans and pulled them down, followed by his boxers. His member sprung free, the tip red and dripping with precum. You felt a twinge in your stomach, like a string down to your core. Your pussy was pounding with heat, and you physically needed him inside of you.

Without hesitation, Taeyong slammed into you, causing you to cry out. Your fingernails scratched down his back, trying to anchor yourself in the midst of the sharp intrusion of his length and the pleasure that was felt through your entire being. He was usually so gentle, as opposed to letting his own desire lead. Now, however, his rough side and anger were quite prominent.

As soon as he first entered, his pace was fast. You had sworn that his dancer’s hips would one day be the death of you during sex. And today, when he was snapping his hips sharply in and out of you, you were flying so high in the sky, all you knew was him.

You were only conscious of his smooth skin, and the way it burned under your touch wherever your bodies met. You were only conscious of his moans and heavy breathing, and how deep they sounded, making you more and more wet by the second. All you were aware of was how he moved inside of you, stretching you out and hitting your sweet spot.

“If you want it rough,” he panted, “I’ll give it to you rough.”

His hips snapped in and out of you rapidly, causing you to see stars. Your stomach twinged whenever he hit your g-spot, bringing you closer and closer to your edge. The curves of your fingernails cascaded down the smooth skin of his back, digging into the surface in an attempt to anchor yourself. There would be marks there tomorrow, but you knew he’d love them.

You were a moaning mess under him, unable to contain the sounds coming from your mouth when he was making you feel this good.

He was moving at an inhuman pace; the feeling of his length sliding in and out of your clenching walls was incredible. Taeyong’s hands were linked with yours, otherwise they were tangled in your hair. The sensation hit you wave after wave, repeated stimulation to the same incredible spots deep inside you.

The room was filled with the sounds of Taeyong’s low grunts and your moans and whines, as well as the sound of skin slapping against each other, with your wet pussy hitting against his hips harshly. “Taeyong, fuck, fuck, I-I’m gonna cum, shit,” you whimpered, all in one breath.

You clenched around him as your high crashed down on you. You scratched on his back again as you cried out incoherent words and curses. This was the most extreme orgasm you’d ever had, and your legs shuddered. Your walls caved in on themselves. You felt so impossibly good, high on pleasure.

But he didn’t stop. He fucked you through your high and continued on afterwards, still having not cum yet.

“T-taeyong, please, I c-can’t take it,” you let out in a high-pitched, breathless moan.

“You’re gonna fucking take it,” he hissed, and his hand came down on your ass cheek once as he continued to thrust into you, despite your high. “This is what you asked for when you flirted with Donghyuck.”

[gillytweed]

Murder and Smoothies

Summary: Gods, she was so stupid. So very, very stupid. Gideon was going to laugh at her so much when she got out of this… if she got out of this.

“Taken down by a fucking smoothie, amazing,” She’d say as she dragged Harrow back to their apartment, the vampire slung over her shoulder like a sack of soft wet potatoes. It would probably look a lot like what was happening currently.

Or, Vampire Harrow gets kidnapped by a Hunter and our favourite werewolf Gideon needs to come and save her ass. 

Gods, she was so stupid. So very, very stupid. Gideon was going to laugh at her so much when she got out of this… if she got out of this.

“Taken down by a fucking smoothie, amazing,” She’d say as she dragged Harrow back to their apartment, the vampire slung over her shoulder like a sack of soft wet potatoes. It would probably look a lot like what was happening currently.

She let out a soft grunt as the Hunter readjusted her on his shoulder, the joint between the scapula and humerus digging uncomfortably into her stomach.

In her defense, the Allium's scent and flavour had been well hidden among the blend of fruit, and had probably been distilled into a concentrated oil to have such a strong effect. Plus, the Hunter had been working at the smoothie stand for weeks. She’d just assumed he was some old man working a late shift, as he’d given her a smoothie almost every night for the last month.

On the other hand, she should have never become what could be called a regular in the first place.

“Almost home, girlie,” The Hunter said cheerfully, patting her leg like he was a grandfather carrying a sleeping grandchild home. If she could move, she would have tried to rip out his spine and beat him with it.

The area remained deserted as the Hunter took a winding path through back alleys and side streets, having long since planned his route. From what little she could see with her face smushed up against his back, it looked like they were headed towards the docks. How typical, stolen away to some warehouse to be tortured.

Against her assumptions, they turn off just as they’re about to head into the industrial area, instead going in the back door of some apartment complex and up several flights of stairs. Still, no one is around to watch as an old man carries what looks like an unconscious teenage girl into his apartment.

The apartment is sparse, clearly a temporary place to stay as the furniture consists of plastic lawn chairs and table, and a rolled up futon. There’s a few odd pieces of equipment laying around, but really the only sturdy piece of furniture is a metal chair set atop several large sheets of plastic, which the Hunter deposits her into.

He hums a little tune as he adjusts her limp limbs, pulling her arms up to rest on the uncomfortable chair arms, and strapping them down with thick leather bindings. He does the same to her legs, pulling them up next to the chair legs and firmly securing them. Clearly, this Hunter knew what he was doing.

Once she was bound to his satisfaction, he grabbed one of the plastic lawn chairs, set it in front of her and sat down. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees like he was about to have a nice chat with an old friend.

“Now, we can do this the easy way, or the hard way,” He starts, voice still as disgustingly pleasant as before. “I want you to call your Coven.”

Ah, while he’d done his research on her movement patterns, clearly he hadn’t tracked her all the way back to their apartment. If he had, he would know she didn’t have a coven, or at least not a typical one.

“Fuck you,” She breathed out the words. Her face was still a bit numb, but the Allium was beginning to wear off just enough to curse at the man.

“Now that isn’t very nice.” He says, smiling like a toddler had unknowingly said something rude. “I’m giving you the chance to avoid a lot of pain, you see.”

He leans back and pulls out something from inside his jacket. She half expected him to pull out a cigarette or cigar to keep in line with the whole ‘kindly grandpa’ schtick, but instead he holds up a pen light and flicks it on. Instantly she knows what it is.

What muscles she has control over start to shake as the small beam of artificial sunlight comes closer. While the artificial light won’t kill her outright, it will certainly hurt like a bitch.

The Hunter continues to hum as he flicks the light around the room, pointing it close to Harrow then pulling it away to loop back around again, teasing her. Eventually, he stops, the beam hovering near her hand.

“Last chance, call your Coven.” She just hisses at him, lips pulling back to reveal needle like fangs. He simply shrugs and moves the light over her fingers.

YUP, that definitely hurt like a bitch. Her hiss turns into one of pain, the noise stuttering as the skin on her knuckles darkens and smokes, flaking away to reveal ligaments and cartilage that also begin to darken. The smell is horrible, like burning meat. At full strength, the light probably would have barely affected her, but with the Allium and having waited to feed for several weeks, she was far from her strongest.

When her fingers are almost nothing more than bone, he stops. She’s breathing hard, despite not technically needing to breathe, but some instincts are hard to forget.

“Hmm, can’t have you healing now can we,” The Hunter says as he watches the edges of her burnt flesh flicker and boil. New strands of muscle curling out from under the charred pieces and stretching down along her phalanges.

He moves out of her vision for a moment. She hears a drawer open and the sound of metal clinking together. She just manages to turn her head a little when he comes back.

While the Allium was taking a while to wear off, it was still wearing off. If she could stall long enough, she could possibly wait it out. She’d only call Gideon as a last resort.

The Hunter sat back down heavily in his chair, the plastic legs scraping the floor unpleasantly. Once settled, he holds up his prize: several, hollow metal rods.

“I’m gonna let you in on a secret,” He says, still smiling. “It doesn’t really matter if you call your Coven or not. I’m still gonna get them all.”

He lays the metal rods over his lap and grabs Harrow’s chair, pulling her closer until she can smell the Allium on his breath. Of course he’d drink Allium before a hunt. It would make his blood undrinkable, so even if she did manage to get free he wasn’t a viable meal. Just perfect.

“You see,” He picks up one of the rods and flicks it, a small ting ringing from the impact. She can see one end is cut in a slant, creating a sharp point. “You leeches, while abominations on God's green earth, still have a wee bit of human in you. Your kind are pack animals, you protect each other.”

For a moment, he pauses and sets the rod aside, instead pulling a knife from his pocket. He grabs her left leg, pulling the fabric of her jeans taught and slicing away at the seam on the inner thigh, exposing pale skin.

“You don’t abandon each other so easily, especially when one of your own is in danger,” He picks up the rod again. “So, even if you don’t call them, I’m not gonna kill you just yet.”

The urge to snap his neck is overpowering when he starts feeling along her inner thigh, searching for something. Of course, with the Allium still in her system, all she can do is shake and twitch, fighting against the numbness as best as she can.

“Ah, here we go,” Without any preamble, the Hunter takes the rod and stabs hard with the sharp end, piercing the femoral artery in one quick thrust.

Her hiss of pain is guttural and involuntary as blood begins draining through the rod. Her leg twitches, the Allium wearing off at the wrong moment which results in a wave of burning pain down her leg. Instantly she can feel her power diminishing.

“If you don’t call your Coven for me,” The hunter continues, completely ignoring the trickle of blood splashing to the plastic sheets on the floor. “I’m going to drain you to torpor, then,” He pauses, wiping his bloody hands off on his jeans. “Once you’re a shriveled little husk, I’m going to string you up in a warehouse and lay in wait.”

He picks up another rod, this time angling it at her chest. The sharp tip rests just below her clavicle. He teasingly holds it there with one finger.

“When they realize you’re missing, they’ll come looking. They’ll follow the trail of your blood scent, and when they arrive they'll fall right into my trap.” He begins to push the rod in, ever so slowly. She feels the skin and muscle part painfully as it slides between her clavicle and top rib. There’s a pause, and then an uncomfortable pressure as her lung is pierced.

“You’ll be in torpor of course, so you won’t get to watch as I kill the rest of you leeches, but you don’t need to worry about that. You just need to decide how much pain you want to experience beforehand.” He stops pushing in the rod, but gives it a little wiggle, making her choke out a groan, before grabbing the next one.

This one he doesn’t leave any preamble. He just shoves it in on the other side of her chest between the second and third ribs. She can feel the weakness setting in, her blood draining.

She hates to admit it, but she needs help.

“G-GIDEON,” She chokes out, the air stuttering in her throat as it leaks away around the rods pushed into her chest.

“Yes, that’s it. Call your Coven!” The Hunter hisses with glee, his eyes bulging wide and horrible. “I have a present just for them.” He holds up a jury-rigged spray canister, a large one that would normally be used to apply insecticides. The acrid scent of Allium wafting off it makes her gag. Just the smell of it makes her sinuses burn and her eyes water, precious blood welling up in place of tears and dripping down her face.  

As the minutes tick by, she can feel her blood slowly drain away, seeping from the puncture wounds in her torso, and her leg. The edges of her vision begin to grow fuzzy with darkness as she’s slowly, painfully pulled towards torpor.

“Gi-deon,” She stutters again, the word coming out as more of a wheezed groan as her lungs continue to collapse in on themselves.

She didn’t want to call Gideon, but she could imagine her face. Her face if she found out what was happening and Harrow hadn't even tried to ask for help. She wouldn’t be mad, she would look hurt and disappointed, like a kicked puppy.

There’s a crash somewhere in the rest of the complex, the sound of wood breaking and metal bending.

“Oh ho, that was faster than expected!” The Hunter crows with glee. He lifts up the spray can, and releases a test spray of Allium. It burns as the substance sprinkles over her skin, the area quickly going numb soon after.

There’s another crash, closer this time. Then a low braying snarl that vibrates in Harrow’s ears. To anyone else, they might mistake it for a dog barking into the night, but to her it meant one thing: Gideon was coming.

The Hunter hauls himself up from his chair and begins grabbing weapons. A large combat knife is tucked into his belt, then a carved wooden stake, made from holly wood, based on the smell. He takes a moment to duct tape the penlight to the top of the spray canister and flicks it on.

There’s a thud outside the apartment door, then some shuffling. Harrow can hear Gideon’s breathing, deep level huffs as she takes in the scents around her. She can imagine Gideon’s nostrils flaring, eyes blazing an unnatural gold as she smells Harrow’s blood then-

An arm erupts through the flimsy wooden door. Black claws gleam in the lowlight as the arm reaches for the doorknob, metal crunching and screeching as it folds under the sheer strength as it’s wrenched open.

The Hunter, without a vampire's supernatural vision, doesn’t realize anything’s amiss until the door is swinging open to reveal Gideon in all her glory.

She was partially transformed, ginger hair thicker and spreading to create a ruff of fur along her neck and shoulders. Her face is slightly elongated, just enough that any human would recognize a predator when they saw her. Her eyes gleamed with an intensity that would terrify any mortal, but only brought Harrow a feeling of relief.

The Hunter lunges, spraying Allium as he goes then brings his knife up to slice at Gideon’s throat. The blade meets air, as Gideon recoils, the numbing spray ineffective against a werewolf. It was more an irritant than anything.

Gideon snarled, lips pulled back to reveal long sharp canines. She shoves the Hunter back, sending him tumbling, and sneezes in a way that would be adorable in any other circumstances.

The Hunter, with agility unhindered by his age, falls, rolls backwards and pops up onto his feet. He lunges again, but staggers as he finally sees what he’s fighting.

“Oh, Fu-“ He doesn’t say anymore as Gideon’s hand pierces his stomach much like she’d pierced the door. From her position, Harrow can’t see much, but she can hear his choked gurgle as Gideons arm flexes and there's a sickening crunch as something within the Hunter is crushed and he goes limp. He slumps to the floor with a thud, sliding off Gideon’s forearm like so much meat.

There’s silence for a moment, the only noise being Gideon’s heavy breathing. Based on the sheen of sweat, she probably started sprinting as soon as she’d heard Harrow call.

Gideon huffed, clearing the last of the Allium from her nose, then beelines for Harrow. She kneels, ignoring the blood pooling around her, and without even asking yanked the rod from Harrow’s thigh.

Harrow let out a soft groan at the sensation of the metal sliding out of her skin, but was glad it was gone. Without anything obstructing the wound, it closes quickly, the hole narrowing until the smallest trickle of blood drips from it.

Next Gideon yanks out the rods in her chest, the feeling just as unpleasant, if not more so. With her lungs essentially collapsed in on themselves, and still very much punctured, all she could do was make a soft wheezing noise.

“Shut up,” Gideon snapped as she moved to release her arms. “Don’t try to talk yet, idiot.” Her words held a small lisp, the sounds interrupted by the fangs in her mouth. While she did roll her eyes, Harrow obeyed, waiting until she was released from her bonds.

As soon as she was free from the chair, Gideon bundled Harrow up into her arms and held her close. It took a little shifting, because Gideon was a gods damned giant, but eventually Harrow was able to reach a good feeding spot.

Her fangs sunk into the flesh just above Gideon’s clavicle, letting blood flow into her mouth. To most vampires, werewolf blood tasted like ass mixed with sewage, to Harrow, when it was Gideon, it tasted like home. It also made her realize how absolutely ravenous she was.

She felt Gideon’s arms tense around her, but it was only so she could stand up. Harrow, too hungry to care, just continued to feed, gulping down mouthfuls of thick wonderful, rejuvenating blood.

She’s passively aware of Gideon giving the Hunters body a solid kick before she’s heading for the door. They’re on the rooftops and several blocks away before Harrow pulls away from her meal.

She could feel her puncture wounds closing, and with every breath her lungs began to expand. She could also feel the deep seated ache that always happened after Allium exposure.

She lets her forehead fall against Gideon’s chest with a light thump and closes her eyes. She let herself enjoy the feeling of the evening breeze as Gideon ran at a loping pace.

Eventually, Gideon stopped to rest on a rooftop a short way from their apartment, plopping down to sit while still holding Harrow. She was breathing hard, having run to get to Harrow, and then ran to get away. To be honest, the feeling of Gideon’s chest heaving under her head was comforting. It was something to focus on other than her own stupidity.

“Soooo, how’d you get caught?” Gods, never mind, apparently she wasn’t allowed to forget being an idiot for even a moment.

“Stupidly.” Was her reply, not lifting her head from Gideon’s chest. “He fed me Allium.”

Harrow could practically feel Gideon wince. While it didn’t affect werewolves like it did vampires, Gideon had seen the effects enough times to know the stuff was capital N nasty. Her arms tightened around Harrow a fraction, hugging her a bit closer.

“Well, that must’ve sucked balls.”

Ah, eloquent as ever.

“Yes, Gideon, it did and continues to ‘suck balls’.” Harrow replied, voice filled with exhaustion. “Paired with being drained of blood, I’m going to need to sleep for a while.” ‘Which means I need you to protect me’ was added silently.

“Aye aye, Capt’n. One coffin, coming right up!” Gideon said with forced cheer as she shuffled her way to standing again. She wobbled a little, the lactic acid having gathered in her legs, but she leapt to the next roof with little difficulty.

Their apartment was a basement suite, chosen specifically to have as few windows as possible. The door was also around the side of the building, giving them a little cover from prying eyes as they went inside. A good thing too, because both of them looked like they’d committed murder.

Which they kind of did, now that she thought about it.

“Okay, Coffin or bath first?” Gideon’s voice was completely serious with none of it’s usual joviality. Harrow thought for the moment it took Gideon to take off her shoes. She was tired, incredibly so, but waking up covered in blood would, as Gideon had said, “suck balls.”

“A change of clothes at least, please,” She sighed, not lifting her head from Gideon’s shoulder. She feels Gideon bob her head, then they’re headed down the hall towards the bedrooms.

Gideon shoves her way into Harrow’s room without preamble, and deposits her gently on the bed. Harrow doesn’t move, letting her body sink into the mattress as Gideon putters around, pulling open drawers.

She hears a thump as her coffin is pulled out of the closet, Gideon grunting as she shoves the heavy box up against the side of the bed. While Harrow could technically sleep in the bed, being inside the coffin was better, mostly for safety. Should anyone drop by unexpectedly, like their landlord for example, Gideon could just put the coffin, and Harrow, deep inside the closet, instead of having what would appear to be a dead body laying in bed.

It also would make emergency transport easier, should it be necessary while she was asleep. She’s fallen asleep before, and then awoken a week later halfway across the country, an exhausted Gideon having to explain their unexpected flight from their old home. And, regardless of the reasoning, Harrow had always felt more comfortable, safer, ensconced inside the coffins thick wood, even if logically it was a dead give away to her vampiric nature.

“Alright, my duchess of darkness,” Harrow opened her eyes to find Gideon standing over her, arms clean of blood, holding a pile of clean clothes. “Let’s get you ready for your nap.”

Harrow sighed, but sat up with a grunt. With fresh blood, the Allium had begun wearing off faster, but she was still sore as hell. Her arms shook as she propped herself up, not even complaining when Gideon wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

Switching clothes wasn’t the most exciting thing in the world, the only snag being the zipper on her jeans being crusted closed with blood and both of them deciding ‘fuck it’ and just cutting them off. They were ruined anyway.

Once dressed in comfortable sweatpants, and having wiped the blood from her face at Gideon’s insistence, she shuffles her way into the coffin, curling up on her side with a deep shuddering sigh. Gods she was so tired.

As she slips into a healing sleep, she’s vaguely aware of a hand brushing some of her hair back behind her ear, and a gently murmured, “G’night, Harrow” before the lid of the coffin is closed with a soft thud and she’s left in blissful darkness.

[snelbz]

“You should have ruined me when you had the chance.” {Nessian Angst/Smut, Tag Team}

A/N: You all knew we’d be hitting you with the smut soon enough. And you knew exactly who it’d be. Tag team with the always amazing @tacmc​. It feels good to be back. :)

Warning: Rated M.

Cassian hit the bag in front of him with so much force that it ripped the anchor from the ceiling and the bag went flying. He watched as it slid to a stop across the gleaming, marble floors but he never dropped his stance. Almost like he was waiting for the bag to get up. Almost like it might fight back.

Cass, he heard the voice in his mind. We’re just about ready on our end. How soon can you be here?

The issue with having a daemati for a High Lord - and even worse, a best friend - meant that when Rhys was in his head, even if he tried, he could always tell when Cassian wasn’t being completely truthful. So often, rather than answering, Cassian let down his mind’s shields and fully allowed Rhys to see his surroundings. He felt that watchful gaze in his mind’s eye zero in on the downed bag across the room. There was a question in his mind, but whatever it was Rhys let it go before Cassian could fully hear it.

Ah, the midnight voice chuckled, so a bath before anything else, that much is clear. Meet us at the townhouse at noon?

He nodded once, an answer that Rhysand clearly accepted, since an instant later, Cassian knew he was well and truly alone in the training room high above Velaris once again.

With a heavy sigh, Cassian thudded across the room and picked up the bag with one, taped up hand. He thought about hanging it back up, but tossed it in the corner instead. He’d do it tomorrow. Today he could care less. 

He found a thin rag draped over the back of the chair in the corner and wiped the sweat from his forehead, then the back of his neck. He tossed it in the corner, along with the punching bag, and left.

The halls were quiet. Everyone had made note, with the exception of his intrusive High Lord, to give Cassian space. He had a temper, he knew as much, and no one quite got under his skin like she did. 

Just the thought of her made him want to turn around and head back to the training room, and rip the punching bag he’d tossed in the corner to shreds.

Instead, he continued on until he found himself standing on the balcony of the House of Wind and closing his eyes in the bright morning sun. 

He didn’t know what time it was, didn’t know how close to noon he was creeping. 

As he spread his wings in a long, smooth stretch, Cassian debated just how crucial that bath before their departure was.

It was then that he smelled himself and decided a bath was non-negotiable.

A full Court trip was something that was very, very carefully planned. Azriel was wound tighter than Cassian had ever seen him, the more so since Elain announced her early pregnancy 4 months ago. Now, as she was nearing the end tox her second trimester, he was a wreck. He hated to be away from her for any longer than necessary, so making sure that Adriata was safe and that the Summer Court wasn’t waiting to ambush was draining on him.

But finally, the long-awaited day has arrived. Amren had agreed to stay and keep the city safe, as long as Varian agreed to come help.

Feyre would be going, of course, as High Lady and as a female that hated to be kept in Velaris when something important was going on elsewhere, more so since she became a mother herself. Feyre not only wanted to protect her people, her family, but now her son. Their toddler would stay with Elain, whom Rhysand deemed the only person in all of Prythian that he trusted to watch his young heir.

And then the face of the last person joining their trip popped into Cassian's mind as he turned on the hot water and removed his pants.

Piercing blue-gray eyes, narrowed in annoyance, haunted him as he settled into the large porcelain tub. He tilted his head back against the lip of the tub, stretching his wings out wide. The heat of the water soothed the aches that were settling into the cartilage and membranes of his wings and he carefully took one in his hand and looked at it. He held it up to the open window, seeing what Feyre always described as she watched them fly.

Reddish-gold shone through, darker at the joints, thinner, so, so thin, where it was stretched tight.

His wings, however…

His wings were marred. There were other jagged scars every few inches. A brand to show just how close he’d come to losing his wings, to losing his life.

To losing her.

He thought about it often, the war with Hybern, everything that had led up to that point.

Not much had changed in the years that passed, not even after they had returned from the Illyrian camps. Not when it came to where he stood with Nesta Archeron, anyway. Time and time again he would think that he broke through to her, that she would let him in.

But he was always disappointed.

He went back to examining the painful beauty of his wings. He had lived for hundreds of years, and all he had to show for it were those damned scars.

Cassian untied his hair and sunk beneath the warm water. He stayed there for a moment, holding his breath. His eyes opened to see the clouded ceiling of the washroom as he pulled himself back up, just as a soft knock came on the washroom door.

Cassian’s shoulders tensed.

He’d know her scent anywhere. 

“I’m bathing,” Cassian mumbled. “Rhysand’s request.”

The door pushed open anyway and Nesta stood on the threshold. “Still pissed?”

Cassian draped an arm over the side of the tub and was slightly disappointed when Nesta’s eyes remained locked with his own. 

“Didn’t expect to see you until we leave,” was all Cassian replied.

Nesta slipped into the room and shut the door behind her with a soft click. Cassian tried to seem relaxed, tried to sink a little lower into the water, but every part of him tensed up as she closed the two of them in together.

They’d enjoyed each other’s bodies in the Illyrian Mountains. It became almost a type of reward for Nesta after she’d finish a hard day of training. It would always begin as a massage to soothe her aching muscles and end with an orgasm.

She never stayed in his bed once.

She never slept in his arms once.

She never gave him more than a single glance over her shoulder.

But her insults lessened. The attacks on his person and moral character eventually weren’t as barbed, as sharp. They were meant to poke at him, not to stab.

She began to seem as if she even enjoyed his presence.

Yet she still wouldn’t accept the bond.

“Come to join me?” Cassian asked, unable to stop the subtle bite in his voice. 

“No,” Nesta said between gritted teeth. “I came to…”

Cassian waited, but Nesta refused to meet his gaze as her words trailed off. 

Eventually, Cassian lifted a brow. “Yes?”

Her lips snapped shut and those cruel eyes narrowed. “Nevermind.”

She turned to leave, but stopped herself, the hand that was outstretched toward the doorknob falling back to her side. “I went to the training room. Saw it was a wreck. Thought I’d come see how you were doing. If you were...okay.”

Her tone was vicious, but her words seemed genuine enough. 

Cassian sat up a little straighter, although he had learned long ago not to get his hopes up. Even her nicer moments seemed to be done out of some sort of annoyance. 

“I’m fine,” Cassian replied, propping his cheek in the palm of his hand. “See you at noon. Don’t be late.”

Nesta glanced over her shoulder. Cassian couldn’t help his grin as he saw just how much he was getting under her skin. “Must you always be such a prick?”

Cassian had a lot of retorts he could have followed such a question with, but he simply tilted his head to the left and remained silent.

When it was clear that he wasn’t going to answer her question, rhetorical or no, she rolled her eyes and left the room.

As the door opened and closed, a chill slipped in and Cassian let himself go under the water again to keep from cooling down. He stayed under until he could hear himself think again over the pull of the female walking down the stairs. He stayed under until his lungs hurt. He stayed under until she was far enough away that she wouldn’t hear his scream of frustration from under the water.

He wanted her to leave.

He wanted her to come back.

He didn’t know if it was worse to live with her or without her. Both seemed to infuriate him.

I went to the training room. Saw it was a wreck.

Temper.

He had such a temper.

A temper he couldn’t, didn’t want to, control. 

Cassian came back above the water and looked outside. Noon was approaching quickly, but he didn’t want to move even though he knew he had to.

He had to fly Nesta across the border and spend the next three days alongside her, trying to contain that damn creeping anger as he did so.

With a low, frustrated growl, Cassian pulled himself out of the tub, water sloshing onto the floor as he did so. He grabbed a towel and started drying off his hair as he opened the door to the balcony to find Nesta meeting Mor by the edge of the lower balcony, outside the dining room.

Neither female noticed him as Mor winnowed them both away.

————————

Her arms were a vice around his neck.

She flew with him a hundred times yet she never truly conquered her fear of flying.

Or rather, her fear of falling.

It didn’t matter how many times he told her he’d keep her safe. It didn’t matter that she trusted him explicitly. She had never well and truly let herself enjoy the sky.

As they crossed the border into the Summer Court, the magic of the barrier zapped against his skin. He could feel it crawling under his armor, beneath his leathers even. It was taking inventory of his weapons, of his strength.

Nesta growled, and Cassian gave her a curious glance.

All at once, the magic left them, though Cassian knew they barrier line extended another 10 feet or so.

“How did you-?”

“It was looking for the key to my power,” she interrupted him, voice low, but so close to him, he could hear her over the wind. “So I told it there wasn’t one.”

Cassian shook his head and chuckled.

Cauldron born and Cauldron made, indeed.

“When can you put me down?” She hissed.

Cassian's hands tightened. “When we get to the palace.”

“I hate it here,” Nesta said, and she thought she hadn’t said it aloud, but Cassian’s arms tightened around her once more. 

She allowed herself to feel comforted, if only for a second. Then, her nails once again dug into his skin. 

Tensions were high with the Summer Court, and Cassian knew that Nesta secretly liked the intense excitement. She may not like being involved with court politics, but she sure enjoyed watching the drama.

“Alright, Emissary,” Cassian mumbled into her ear. 

Before Nesta could fully prepare herself for the landing, Cassian's boots landed on the brick with a thud. He didn’t free Nesta from his grip until he straightened from his crouch. 

A large group of court members were waiting for them at the palace’s entrance.

Rhysand stepped in front of them all, Feyre at his side.

“Tarquin isn’t here to welcome us?” He crooned. “Shame.”

A young male, wearing armor similar to Cassian’s but in turquoise and gold, stepped forward.

“He had to leave court on emergency business,” he said, steadily, although refusing to make eye contact with the High Lord and Lady of Night. “He will be back tomorrow, he sends his apologies. He hopes that you will spend your evening relaxing and enjoying the summer court and he looks forward to meeting with you all tomorrow afternoon.”

Rhysand inclined his head to thank the young male for passing on the message.

The young male held out his hand. “You will be shown to your rooms. Dinner will be served at nightfall.”

Nesta followed Cassian, Azriel, Mor, Feyre, and Rhysand through the palace. Varian was at the head of the group, talking quietly among those of Tarquin's court.

Cassian sped up until his pace matched Rhysand’s. He had one hand in his pocket, the other protectively on Feyre’s back. “I thought Varian was meeting Amren in Velaris?”

“He’ll be leaving in the morning,” Rhys replied, his violet eyes sliding to Cassian, annoyance obvious. “And thanks to the delay, Varian will be staying with us for an additional week. I just don’t know if Tarquin is aware.”

“Oh, don’t worry,” Varian called over his shoulder. “Amren has made him very much aware.”

Rhys smirked as Cassian nodded and fell back into step beside Nesta.

Cassian has grown to like Varian over time. He was glad to have him as their connection between their two courts. It took a little bit of the tension away.

Just a little bit.

The group was shown to a suite on the far side of the palace. A sitting room sat in the middle of three bedrooms, in which Feyre and Rhysand automatically claimed the one on the right, shutting themselves inside. 

Mor rolled her eyes. “Great, we get to listen to those two until dinner.”

Azriel chuckled as Rhysand sent a vulgar gesture into all of their minds. 

As Nesta headed toward the room on the left, Mor looped her arm through Azriel's. “Come. Let’s explore.”

Before Cassian could comment, they had vanished, leaving him to watch Nesta disappear around the corner and listen to Rhysand’s teasing growls on the other side of the door behind him.

Cassian entered the third bedroom, expecting that to be a shared room for he and Azriel. But instead, he found three glittering gowns hanging from the armoire and a scarlet duffel. With a growl and a roll of his eyes, Cassian made his way back out to the living room and draped himself across the couch.

A few moments later, Nesta re-emerged from the bedroom, her braids let out, her hair loose around her shoulders. The stuffy dress she typically wore was gone and she wore a pair of loose-fitting trousers and-.

“Is that my tunic?” Cassian asked, eyebrow raised, arms crossed behind his head.

Nesta's lips tightened. “You left it in my room one night. I wear it when I need to move my arms.”

Cassian blinked. “You’re choosing to train right now?”

Nesta scoffed. “There’s nothing else to do right now. I left the novel I was reading in Velaris and dinner isn’t for hours.”

Cassian leaned up on his elbows. “Want company?”

Nesta stared him down for a moment. “Fine. Stand up.”

Cassian looked around the sitting room. It was large enough, sure, but he was known to cause damage in the Summer Court.

Tarquin already wasn’t his biggest fan.

Cassian didn’t move. “What? In here?”

Nesta looked at him like he was dense, which in her defense, he could be. “I don’t exactly know where else we can go.”

Cassian smirked. “Oh, sweetheart. Have I got something to show you.”

Twenty minutes later, dressed in strikingly similar attire, Cassian led Nesta into the underground barracks of the Summer Court militia. Nesta couldn’t keep the awe off of her face as she gazed up at the glistening cave walls.

The domed room was formed straight into the ore-rich rock. Deposits of gems and jewels could still be seen peeking through in places. There was every type of training tool imaginable, weapons, weights, training rings, even a small track. In the far corner was a small pool, steam rising as it was naturally heated from underground.

“Are we supposed to be in here?” Nesta asked, glancing around timidly, though they were clearly by themselves. Though they were feet underground, balls of Fae light illuminated the entirety of the room. No corner was obscured.

Cassian threw a cocky glance over his shoulder towards her. “You don’t become Commander of the entire Illyrian Legion without making a few friends.” He turned back and headed for the sparring ring.

It took Nesta a minute to stop gawking before she followed him in. Naturally, he stripped off his tunic as Nesta faced him in the ring.

She rolled her eyes. “Must you always train shirtless?”

Cassian grinned. “It’s cute how you act like you don’t like it.” Her jaw tensed as he motioned her forward. “Hit me, sweetheart.”

She took a moment to tie her hair in a loose knot atop her head. As she stepped into the ring, she was rolling the sleeves of the tunic up, being careful to ensure they were even on both sides, but even so-.

Nesta launched herself at Cassian while he was watching her adjust the sleeves of his shirt. She’d lured him into the trap and he’d fallen for it with far too much ease. His guard was always down around her.

At the same time her open palm slammed against his right shoulder, she twisted and connected her fist with his cheek. He grunted but quickly righted himself, growling at the deceptive move. One muscular arm tried to wrap around her waist, but she was quicker than him and was able to snake out of his grasp, but not before he swept her legs from under her. She was on her back and gazing up at his smirking face before she knew what had happened.

“That wasn’t fair,” he crooned, hair beginning to slip from the bun at the back of his head. “Cheap shots aren’t allowed. You know that.”

“We aren’t in the mountains anymore,” she snarled, taking the outstretched hand he offered her. He effortlessly pulled her to her feet. “The rules no longer apply.”

She could see the mask slowly slipping into place as it always did when they trained. It was only a matter of minutes before the Commander made his presence known.

“There are always rules,” he replied, calmly, turning to get back into stance. “You just have a blatant disregard for them. Back to the edge. Square up again.”

It took everything in Nesta not to throw herself onto his muscular back and pummel the back of his head.

Instead, she did as she was told, and bided her time until the Commander made his appearance. She smirked as she got in cheap shot after cheap shot, a knee to the groin, a punch to the kidney, when her hand slipped off of his arm and she “accidentally” hit him in the throat.

She watched as he leaned over, hands resting on his knees, trying to catch his breath, arms crossed over her heaving chest.

“I didn’t realize it was this easy to take down the leader of the Night Courts forces,” she drawled, her head tilted to the side as she caught her own breath. “Maybe I should talk to Rhys about changing my title. You’re getting a little old anyway.” She smirked as his head snapped up and he looked at her with hazel eyes that were filled with flame. “Might be time to retire, old man.”

Cassian stood to his full height, breathing even, rage written all over his features. “Get back in the ring.” His voice was like stone.  He turned and grabbed a pitcher of water from a nearby table, only pausing to drink for a short moment before pouring the entire thing over his head, drenching his body.

As he made his way back into the ring, rivulets of sweat and water both trailing between his muscles, Nesta’s mouth dried up and she smiled.

“Hello, Commander,” she cooed.

Cassian showed no indication that the tone of her voice sent his heart ablaze. 

He stopped a few feet in front of her and got into ft the stance of someone who was about to be attacked.

As he had been.

Countless times at this point, to Nesta’s satisfaction.

“Whenever you’re ready,” he beckoned, voice low, words clipped.

Nesta gave a show of lifting them hem of his tunic to wipe the sweat off her brow, her neck. When she let it drop, she watched how his eyes were resting on her abdomen, where her pale skin had been showing.

But his jaw was locked, his teeth clenched. He wouldn’t fall for it again. He’d had enough.

When his eyes reconnected with her own, Nesta charged.

He blocked every shot she took, anticipating every blow, deflecting every kick. Time after time, she ended up on the mat.

She grunted as he landed on her side, arm outstretched above her head. She laid there, forehead pressed against the cool material. Her breathing was erratic and her arms were heavy when she tried to push herself up. She stopped and laid still, trying to calm her breathing, to slow her heart.

“Had enough?” Cassian asked, and she turned to look back at him, hitching her knee as she did. She found him staring at her ass, the pants stretching with the motion and sitting lower on her hips. His eyes flicked to her own, unashamed that she’d caught him staring.

Nesta got to her feet. “Not hardly.”

Before she had a chance to get into stance, he took a page from her own book and charged her. She only had time to turn before his arms were restraining her and she began to writhe against him.

It was then she noticed he was rock solid against her lower back.

She fought back a whimper from the feel of him and ground herself back against him, letting his covered length skim the top of her ass.

He growled and tightened his arms. His lips were right next to her ear when he breathed, “Don’t. We’re training. You haven’t earned that yet.”

She shivered, despite her mind telling her body to get it together, and was able to loosen one arm. Why Cassian didn’t immediately restrain her, she didn’t know, but she let that arm fall behind them. Her fingers delicately cupped the back of his neck, sliding upward through his sweat-drenched hair, and pulling the leather tie out. His hair fell loose and she gently pulled her fingers out of the tangled length and let her arm fall in front of her.

“Nes,” he breathed, voice a gravelly whisper.

He couldn’t say anything else because she brought her elbow up and slammed it back into his face

He immediately dropped his hold on her, stumbling back and clutching his face. When she whirled to face him, expecting him to be angry and ready to fight, she was surprised to find his eyes tired and blood trickling down his lips.

He walked toward the edge of the ring and leaned down, grabbing his tunic before walking towards the main entrance.

“Where are you going?” Nesta called, dropping her stance and chasing after him, her fingers wrapping around his wrist. “We aren’t done yet. That was a clean hit.”

Cassian stopped but didn’t move another inch, he didn’t turn back to look at her like she longed for him to. “You broke our first rule.”

Nesta froze, her grip on his wrist slackening.

She thought back to a night in the cabin, years and years ago, not long after they’d arrived in Illyria. Cassian had sat her down. After she’d continued to be a miserable terror to the camp, he’d laid out a list of rules, starting at number two and working his way through. At the end, he asked if she had any questions and she spit out that he was a far more stupid brute than she thought if he hadn’t even noticed he’d skipped the very first rule.

He told her that his attraction to her and subsequent distraction was one thing, since it was a viable tactic to use in hand to hand combat that could save her life one day. She was allowed to use his lust against him. His love, however…

She was never allowed to use the bond, to use his feelings for her, against him. In training, in arguments, in any way. Not until she accepted the bond and accepted that she was a part of him, and he of her.

To this day, she refused to acknowledge the bond existed, to admit that the pull she felt towards him was damn near constant at this point.

The intimacy she’d allowed, when she’d caressed him and ran his fingers through his hair, that was more than she’d ever allowed him.

She’d handed him a gift he’d longed for so long then punished him when he’d taken it.

His eyes were cold, sad when she looked up into his face. His hair was loose around his face and he looked younger than she’d ever seen him. 

He looked broken.

“Cassian, I-.”

“You should have ruined me when you had the chance,” he breathed.

He turned to leave, she watched his inked back, the wings that drooped behind him.

“Do not walk out on me!” she yelled, panic beginning to settle in. “Do not fucking walk out on me!”

Cassian froze, but there was no life in his heavy shoulders. He didn’t even bother to look back at her as he asked, “Why not?”

Nesta was speechless. Why not? 

“Just…”

She had nothing.

Cassian’s shoulders finally tensed, that brewing anger returning as he slowly turned to meet her gaze.

The blood trickling from his nose was beginning to dry. “Why the fuck not, Nesta?” 

His voice echoed in the cave, and Nesta couldn’t move. She couldn’t breathe. She had spent so long fighting, so long neglecting the male she couldn’t live without.

“Because if I walked out, you couldn’t use me anymore? Huh?” His eyes were manic as he slowly walked toward her. He stopped a few feet away, his tunic tossed casually over his shoulder. “I couldn’t be your fucking plaything anymore? You know what we are, Nesta. I know you do. And you know what? Fuck you! I’ve waited for years! And I’m tired of waiting. If you don’t want me, fine. I accept that. But don’t keep stringing me along. Don’t keep getting my hopes up for something that will never happen.”

Nesta shook her head. The bond, it terrified her. “I can’t, Cass,” she said, her voice breaking on his name. It was small, like that of a scared child. “I can’t give myself like that to someone. I can’t give up my control. I can’t be forced to rely on someone but myself.”

Cassian took two careful steps forward, gently cradling her face in his hands. “You aren’t giving yourself to me, you’re sharing yourself with me.” His voice was steady, but it wasn’t cold, like earlier. No, it was warm, calming. It was a voice full of love. “You aren’t giving up your control,” he breathed, stroking her cheek with a calloused thumb. “And you will always have a choice, but if you need me, I’m here. Nesta, the bond...it’s not a prison sentence like you seem to think.” Her eyes were shut tight, trying to block out his words, block out the topic they so rarely talked about.

Cassian let his hands drop to his sides, but he didn’t walk away. “All I want is to be allowed to love you.” Nesta felt the tears break free from beneath her closed lids. “I want to live this life alongside you, for however long I can.”

When she opened her eyes, he was watching her, intently. Rough fingers reached up to brush her tears away. 

“I will never hurt you,” he promised, then his voice became lighter as he said, “Although, if I did, you can obviously kick my ass.”

Nesta, despite herself, chuckled. She shook her head. “I don’t want to disappoint you.”

“Impossible,” he whispered as he brushed the fallen strands of golden-brown hair out of her face. “I know you, Nes. And there is not one thing about you that could ever disappoint me.”

Her eyes fluttered shut once more, and that familiar feeling of his palm against her cheek returned. “You’re not perfect. Nor am I, as we all know. It’s going to be difficult, but I want to do this. With you. Only you.”

Before she could think up a response, his lips gently pressed against her own.

It was like in that moment a switch had been flipped. Her world tumbled upside down in the instant his lips were on hers. Because in all of the times they’d been together, she’d never once allowed him to kiss her. She’d never once let him put his lips anywhere on her body.

Because they’d not kissed since that last battle against Hybern, when they thought it was the last thing they would ever do.

His lips were her undoing.

When her eyes opened, she found his, soft and steady, watching, waiting for her reaction.

Her slender fingers reached up to the tunic sitting on his shoulder and gripped the fabric. She tossed it aside before bringing her forehead against his, her palms resting on both sides of his stubbled cheeks.

She said no more, and he didn’t say another word, either.

She kissed him, slowly, melting in his presence. She had forgotten the taste of his lips, had forgotten what the brush of his tongue felt like inside of her mouth.

A soft whimper broke away from her inner barrier and Nesta Archeron, despite the years she had built up such a shield, at last let go and freed herself before him.

Cassian growled as her fingers twisted into his hair, as he lifted her up so that her body pressed against his own, as his hands held onto her so tightly that it would be impossible to break free.

But Nesta didn’t want to be free of him.

She was right where she belonged.

She pulled her lips from his, with immense effort on both sides, and breathed, “Bed?”

He couldn’t bear to keep his lips off of her skin now that he’d finally been able to taste it once again, so as soon as she’d ended the kiss, his lips had trailed down her throat. He bit the tender spot where her shoulder met her neck before growling, “Too far. I need to be inside you now.” He froze, though, and breathed. “If that’s what you’re wanting. If you’re truly willing and ready to accept the bond.”

She could feel him there, on the other side of that bridge, but while he used to be a mile away, now he was just a couple hundred feet. She knew that once she accepted the bond, once she accepted him, the bridge would become a door. A door that she could open to him completely and let him know every inch of who she was, of who she’d been.

All at once, she was terrified again. She’d been terrible to Feyre and nearly everyone else she knew in her mortal life. Rhys has just recently forgiven her after years and years of begging from Feyre.

“Cassian, I’m not-.” A sob tore from her and she was powerless to stop it.

His voice was gentle when he cupped her cheek and asked, “You’re not what, sweetheart?”

She hesitated. How could you put so many emotions into mere words? She didn’t deserve such happiness after all she had done.

Cassian lifted her chin so that she met his stare. “I know what you’re thinking. Okay? Don’t talk yourself out of this. Not again. If you want this, if you want me, fucking take it.”

She couldn’t stop the tears, couldn’t sort out her thoughts. But she did want this, did want him. Was it truly so simple?

She took control of her life and decided it was.

Her arms tightened around his neck and her lips crashed against his. His hands, which had been content just to hold, were now grabbing and squeezing, feeling her wherever he could. His hand dipped below the waistband of her pants, which had dropped low on her hips. He gripped the swell of her ass and groaned as he ground her against him.

He needed her. Here, now.

His teeth grazed her neck, just beneath her jaw. Nesta's eyes fluttered shut as she clung to him, her heart beating wildly from within her chest. 

Cassian pressed her back up against the cave’s wall, his body holding her up as he took the tunic of his that she wore and pulled it over her head. 

He caught her gaze, so hungry and needy, before his lips found hers once more.

“Wait,” Nesta breathed, pushing lightly against his chest. “I need to feed you.”

Cassian chuckled and asked, “What?”

“Feyre told me about the soup,” she explained, referencing the meal Feyre had given to Rhys to show she accepted their bond, accepted him. “That to accept the bond, I have to give you food.”

He tossed his head back and laughed, pressing kisses to her exposed chest as the echoes of his laughter subsided. “There are dozens of ways to accept the bond. Offering food is just one of the more traditional routes.”

Nesta nodded, blushing at her own lack of understanding so many years after bring made fae herself, chewing on her top lip. “Is there an...Illyrian method you prefer?” She traced the lines of his tattoos, following one that wrapped around his nipple and then made a direct path down the center of his abdomen.

Cassian shuddered and pressed his forehead against hers. “There are vows - sacred vows - that when uttered, bind the mind, body, and soul together. Two become one. It’s almost like a...traditional, mortal marriage ceremony. But there’s no need for witnesses or priestesses. It doesn’t have to be done in the presence of your family or before the sun has reached its highest point in the sky. It just requires two beings willing to devote themselves to each other.” His hazel eyes were full of love and humor when he gazed up at her. “And a short joining ceremony afterward.”

“Joining ceremony?” She asked, breathlessly, as her finger hooked into the band of his trousers. 

Cassian nodded, becoming all too aware of where her fingers were traveling. 

“Hmmm,” she contemplated, fiddling with the button of his pants free with one hand, the other grasping a handful of his thick, black hair.

Cassian leaned forward, his mouth brushing along her earlobe as he whispered, “Tease.”

“I want the others to be there,” Nesta said, pulling back for only a moment. “When we do our vows. I...think my sisters would want to be a part of it.”

Cassian's grip on her loosened, if only a little bit. “Okay.”

She nodded, head falling back against the wall of the cave. “Good.”

“Good,” he agreed, voice rough, quiet.

“Cass?”

“Yes,” he growled, hands sliding up her sides, cupping her breasts.

“I am yours,” she said. “Take me. Please.”

“Fuck,” was all he said before he had her pressed between himself and the wall once more, body to body. His hand possessively dragged down her body, beginning with her throat, between her breasts and to the waistband of her pants. “I want to look at you, I want to see you. I want to know what you look like when you’re coming for me and not for you.” He kissed her hard. “I want to see what you look like when I fuck you.”

Nesta whimpered, her thoughts vanishing as his tongue slid between her lips. She used the heels of her boots to push down his trousers, down past his thighs, down to his knees. Her eyes fluttered shut as the hardened length of him sprung out beneath her. 

Her shaky hands traveled down his back, down to his firm ass. 

“Take me to the pool,” she pleaded.

He obliged her, taking her over to the shallow bath. He placed her on her feet and stepped back allowing his pants to fall to the ground. He stepped down into hot water, his muscles relaxing almost immediately. He sat down and leaned back, gazing up at her. She stood wearing only her pants and boots, the tunic she’d stolen from him long ago tossed on the small table by the wall.

She toed her boots off and shyly hook her thumbs into the waistband of her trousers. She hesitated, and she didn’t know why. She shut her eyes and took a deep breath.

It wasn’t like he’d never seen her bare. It wasn’t like he’d never been inside her. He’d fucked her hundreds of times in the mountains, but that was never out of love for each other. That was because she needed to get off and he was willing to be her living sex toy.

But this.

This total baring of her mind, body, and soul, this was something different entirely.

“Nes.”

Her eyes opened and she gazed at him, standing in the pool, hand outstretched.

“Come on, sweetheart.”

Evening her breathing, Nesta slipped off her trousers and took his hand. He watched her body moving towards him, every second passing used to his advantage to take her in.

She met him at the bottom of the stairs, and he wrapped his arms around her. His eyes were soft, bright, and they only made Nesta blush.

“Stop looking at me like that,” she whispered.

“No,” he grinned, kissing her softly.

That soft kiss quickly turned hungrier, his hands wandering to her ass to lift her up. Her legs wrapped around his waist and he sat down, once more. She straddled his waist, her fingers softly grazing the insides of his wings, just above where they met his skin.

His head fell back, a soft moan from his lips filling the silence.

Nesta carefully repeated the motion, feeling Cassian’s entire body shuddering beneath her. “I’ve always wondered what they felt like,” she whispered. She carefully traced a long, thick scar. Cassian could feel the difference in the torn flesh. He braced himself for the pity he always received when his wings were closely examined.

“They’re so beautiful.”

His eyes snapped open and he looked up at her. She was gazing at his wings, though, not at his body or even his face.

But at his shredded, disgraceful wings.

“They tell a story,” she said, her voice quiet, full of admiration. “Of how you overcame. Of how you survived.”

Her eyes went misty for a moment, as if she was remembering. Nesta raised herself up on her knees and brushed her lips along the edge of his scars. Cassian's breath hitched, his body falling slack as Nesta leaned back down and pressed her mouth to his forehead, and his nose, and his mouth. She reached below the water's surface and gently used her fingers to stroke his length.

“You…,” he began, a whisper through gritted teeth, “are going to be the death of me.”

Nesta laughed, a soft, true, melodious sound.

Cassian's eyes opened, bright and wild, as his hands found her hips and positioned her over him.

“We’re going to take our vows in front of your sisters and my brothers as soon as we can arrange it, but for now,” he said, leaning up and kissing her. “I need to hear you say it, please, sweetheart.”

“Say what?” She breathed, eyes fluttering shut as he rubbed himself against her entrance. She longed to lower her hips, to feel his thick length inside of her in a whole new way.

“Who are you, Nesta?” He asked, leaning up and biting down on her earlobe.

“Mate,” she moaned, the sound echoing off of the rocks and repeating it. “Mate. You’re my mate.”

Cassian gripped Nesta’s hips and slammed her onto him, impaling her on his hard cock.

She cried out, her voice rippling throughout the silence of the cave. Her nails dug into his shoulders as she sunk down, pushing him into her as far as he’d go. Cassian's mouth trailed along her collarbone, and down to her breasts, his tongue circling her nipple as her hips moved slowly against his.

She held onto the back of his head, afraid that if she let go his mouth would leave her skin.

The water sloshed slightly, lapping against the raised edges of the pool. Whispered curses left his mouth as he leaned back and she increased her pace, as he watched the rise and fall of her chest, the bounce of her breasts. Her head was thrown back in ecstasy and he reached up to tweak her pebbled nipple.

She groaned and threaded her fingers into his hair. He leaned forward, pressing kisses between the valley of her breasts.

“I love you.” Kiss. “I love you.” Kiss. “I love you.”

“Cass.” She whispered his name like a prayer, her body colliding with his in perfect harmony. 

It was a different sensation, a different sort of pleasure, making love with someone Nesta allowed herself to love. For once, she did not hold back. For once, she was not ashamed or embarrassed. For once, she let him have all of her and didn’t think about what would happen next.

Without warning, he gripped her ass and stood, lifting them out of the water. “I need to fuck you properly. I need to pound into you and make you scream. I want to hear you scream my name, sweetheart. Please.”

He carried her through a doorway obscured by a small curtain. The recovery room was outfitted with a small pantry and medicine, everything one could need for recuperation after a battle. But, most importantly, it had a four-poster bed against the far wall.

As they walked across the room, he snaked his arm around and circled her clit. “Promise me you’ll let loose for me, Nes. Promise me you’ll let go.”

She could only nod, having dropped her forehead against his shoulder. She began to whimper as he pressed softly.

He laid her back on the bed, letting her legs hang off the side. He gripped her under the knee and brought her ankle to rest on his shoulder. He kissed a pass from her ankle down her calf. The other leg hooked around his waist. His length rubbed against her slit, driving her insane.

“Cassian, please!” She cried.

“Again,” he breathed, gripping her ass.

“Cassian,” she begged, breathlessly as her eyes fluttered shut.

He pulled her into him, and she screamed, back arched as he fell into her over and over again.

“Please, please, please,” she repeated, panting as he pushed into her, pulling his length all the way out, before slamming back in.

Cassian was mesmerized as he watched her hand snake between them, lick her finger, and press her finger to her clit. “You’re going to be my undoing,” he groaned, snapping his hips back into hers. She screamed, picking the pace up as she rubbed her clit.

Her legs began to quiver as the pleasure consumed her, her mind was free of all thoughts except for the one of the man before her, making her feel like an untouchable goddess.

Everything was going bright white. She could feel every nerve ending in her body. Her orgasm was barreling through her and she could barely speak to warn him.

“Cass,” she moaned, gripping one of his arms where he was holding her hips right while he fucked her with no abandon. “Please, baby, I’m close, I-.”

With no warning, he pulled out of her. Nesta growled, her arm tossed over her eyes. She was seconds from finding her release but now that he-.

A long flat lick trailed up from her entrance to the tip of her clit. A second followed and she couldn’t stop herself from reaching down and tangling her fingers into his hair as she groaned.

Cassian was enjoying himself, she knew he was, was enjoying the pleasurable torture he was currently making her endure.

He growled, low and deep, as her fingers in his hair tightened and pulled. 

She moaned his name. His name was all that she could think of, the only thought that she could manage to string together.

Cassian, Cassian, my mate, Cassian. My mate, mate, mate.

Keep calling my name, sweetheart. Keep telling everyone who’s making you feel so good.

Cassian’s lips closed around her clit and he sucked, unraveling what bit of Nesta’s resolved remained and she tumbled down into her orgasm.

It was like nothing she’d ever experienced, enjoying the orgasm Cassian wrung out of her. She screamed his name and she could have sworn the earth moved beneath them.

Her body shook, her mind falling blank into utter ecstasy. She thought her heart would explode, beat directly out of her chest. As Cassian leaned back to drink her in, a soft laugh bubbled out of her mouth. She cursed as her eyes shot open and he met her gaze. 

He licked what remained of her off his lips before he asked, “Satisfied, sweetheart?”

“Cocky asshole,” she mumbled, motioning for him to come closer.

He kissed a path up her body, loving the way she twitched and squealed when he reached her breasts and paid them special attention. When he reached her lips, he hitched her leg up around his waist, opening her up to him. One long finger teased her entrance. “Speaking of those,” he breathed, continuing to kiss her neck. He let his finger trail farther back. Her eyes shot open as he teased that sensitive, forbidden entrance. He stopped, letting his finger trail back to her clit and he circled the nub. “If you ever decide you want to explore, I can promise you that you won’t regret it.”

Nesta had never even considered that before, letting him well and truly take her from behind, and today wasn’t the day either as Cassian sheathed himself inside of her with one strong thrust.

Nesta screamed and the sound bounced off the walls of the tiny room.

His name became an oath on her lips, reverent and holy, and she could do nothing but bask in the love that she knew would one day be her absolute redemption.

She reached up to hold his stubbled cheeks, forcing him to meet her intent gaze. His eyes connected with hers as sweat trickled from his brow, coating her frail fingertips. His eyes did not waver from hers as he made love to her, his fingers tightened around her waist as he thrust himself in and out. It suddenly became more intimate, suddenly less animalistic as they watched every emotion that passed between them. 

That pleasure changed from one of ecstasy to one of bliss and beauty, endless love and pure adoration. 

Cassian was a territorial fae bastard. Fucking, he was good at. Great at. Exceptional at, as Nesta happily knew all too well. But she had never known him to be so intimate, so raw. 

And he was so utterly raw as his eyes stripped her down, gave her every ounce of him, and promised her himself for whatever years they had left in their immortal lifetimes.

His head fell against her chest. “Gods, I’m close,” he breathed, picking up the pace. Nesta, too, was right at the edge and she gripped his hair, forcing him to look up at her.

“I love you,” she breathed, and crashed her lips against his.

The words, the profession he’d been waiting to hear for so long triggered his release and his orgasm barreled through him.

He continued to fuck her hard and her orgasm was right on top of his. She cried out and milked him for all that he had as he came inside of her with a groan and her name.

When they were done, they laid there a while, not willing to yet break the contact between them. Cassian finally pulled out of her and watched as their mixed climaxes spilled out of her. He was already set to go again.

Nesta grinned, tracing the patterns on his chest. “This is it, isn’t it? The territorial mate thing has kicked in? You’re going to start killing every male that looks my direction, aren't you…”

Cassian nipped at her nose before contemplating his response. “Yeah, it’s better to ignore everything I do in the next few days. Feel free to kick my ass every time I overstep a line.”

“So, I’ll be kicking your ass a lot, then,” Nesta said, laughing quietly, reaching behind him to slap his ass.

Cassian's grin widened. “I haven’t even done anything yet!” He pressed his mouth to hers before saying, “Feel free to do it again.”

Nesta smiled softly before saying “Everything is going to change now, isn't it?”

Cassian laid down next to her, gathering her in his arms, as he said, “Some things will. Some will have to. One of us will have to move, because I can’t sleep a night without you now. I’ll get my ass handed to me by Azriel and Rhys for a while when I snarl at them for walking in the room. Oh, and you won’t be able to walk straight for the next few months.” She laughed and swatted his chest. “But the one thing that won’t change is the way I feel about you,” he said, pressing a kiss to her sweaty forehead. “I’ve loved you from the moment I saw you…”

And I’ll love you until we step into the next life.

Nesta’s head snapped up and she looked at him as she realized she could hear him in her head, she could clearly hear him down the bond.

I love you, she said, clear and strong down the bond. A test to see how well he could-.

I love you more.

Nesta rolled her eyes and laid her head back on his chest.

He said it again, and again, into her mind as he had wanted to do for so many years. And Nesta said it back until they both fell into a steady sleep, tangled in each other’s arms atop the sheets of a bed within a cave deep within the underground of the Summer Court. 

[cottegecorepanarabread]

imagine - tsukiyama

ok so I wrote this with a concussion I got in a car wreck and that is why I have been gone so lone but here is this and you can also find my other works on ao3 at https://archiveofourown.org/users/gothgf_24

Tadashi woke up with Kei’s arms loosely around him. They were at Kei’s house for one of their regular sleepovers. Tadashi turned around to face Kei. Tadashi admired how the sunlight streamed over his relaxed face.

“I love you,” Tadashi whispered, then pressed a kiss into his forehead.

He found his phone under their pillow and scrolled through messages through the night before. Hinata and Kageyama were fighting in the now third year’s group chat like normal. He responded to the usually good morning message from Yachi. He also sent her a picture of Kei sleeping. She responded back with something about how they were cute. He opened his messages from Kageyama to something that surprised him.

Kageyama had sent him several pictures of different piercings with a message that read, “I’m really thinking about it.”

Tadashi: Why not do it. I’ll come get some too.

Kageyama: I’m not 18 yet

Tadashi: Yeah that’s right. I’ll try to call in a favor with someone I know.

“Who are you talking to this early?”Kei said in a tired voice.

“What are you jealous?” Tadashi teased.

“Well whoever it is is the reason you don’t have your arms around me, so I’d say I am.” Kei pulled Tadashi closer to him.

Tadashi wrapped his arms tightly around him.

“How do you feel about getting your ears pierced?”

“Where is this coming from?” Kei asked.

“Well Kageyama sent me some pictures and I said we should go get some. I thought this could become a group actively.”

“I have actually been thinking about some piercings, but does this have to be a group activity?” Kei frowned.

“Tsukki please, we can go get boba by ourselves afterwards. Plus there is gonna be a surprise and you are really gonna like it”

“Fine.”

“Thank you Tsukki.” Tadashi pulled him in for a kiss. “Now I have to make a call.”

“Hello, world’s best piercer and chaotic older sister, Saeko Tanaka. How can I help you?” She said upon picking on the phone.

“This is Yamaguchi.”

“Aww, hi future in-law what can I do for you today?” He could almost hear her smile.

“So you know how you said that you would forget my age if I let you give me that piercing.”

“Oh my god, are you gonna let me do it!”

“Well yes but I need you to overlook someone else’s age.”

“Yeah sure whatever. I’m free from 11-2 today so come by the studio.”

Tadashi hung up and looked at Kei, “so what are the piercings you wanted?”

Kei went to his bookshelf, pulled out a manga, and handed it to Tadashi. He looked at the book first noticing the name, blue period. Tadashi noticed the piercings on the ears of the person on the cover. 2 cartilage and one tragus piercing.

“Tsukki you have to get these!”

Kei smiled, “yeah that’s the plan babe.”

Tadashi and Kei met up with Hinata and Kageyama at the halfway point between their houses and the tattoo parlor. Hinata pestered Kei, trying to get him to say what piercings he was getting.

Kageyama looked lovingly at Hinata.

“Dude, you are whipped.” Tadashi laughed.

“Uh,” he blushed, “well you are too.”

“Yeah,” Tadashi sighed looking at Kei, “I am.”

“Wait Yamaguchi, what are you getting?”

“Just an industrial.” Tadashi smiled innocently.

Yachi greeted them at the studio. She was already there since she had brought Kiyoko lunch.

“Ok, is everybody here and ready.” Saeko said, putting on her gloves.

“I want to go first!” Hinata shouted running up to her.

“Alright, come with me.” She pulled him off to pick his jewelry.

Hinata fidgeted as he sat while Saeko prepped all her stuff.

“Kageyama,” he squeaked, “come hold my hand.”

Kageyama smiled and took his outstretched hand. He let Hinata squeeze it to the point it was white as the needles went into his ears.

“You're doing great, baby, but you knew it would hurt and you still wanted four.”

“I’m trying to look cool so I will scare everyone who tries to steal you off.” Hinata frowned.

“That’s cute, but stop moving if you want these to be even.” Saeko rejected his head.

Hinata’s piercings were finished. He revealed his constellation ear to Kiyoko, who smiled with approval. Kageyama went next and got a rook and conch. He held Hinata’s hand softly, but Tadashi noticed he was biting his lip hard.

Kei went next.

“Want me to hold your hand?” Tadashi asked.

“I don’t really need it but any excuse to hold hands with you.” He smiled, taking Tadashi’s hand.

“I’m telling your brother you said that.” Saeko laughed.

“Don’t you fucking dare.”

Kei took his cartilage piercings well. He lightly held Tadashi’s hand and frequently looked down to smile at him. His tragus was a bit of a different story. As the needle went in Kei let out a soft “fuck”.

Tadashi shuddered and blushed, catching Kei’s eyes.

“Look if you are gonna get horny over this, I’ll send you over to Mad Dog-Chan.” Saeko snapped.

A “don’t fucking call me that you old hag” come from the other side of the studio.

Saeko just laughed and rolled her eyes.

“Ok Yama, your turn.”

The piercing was over quickly. Tadashi didn’t mind the small pain. He has his fair share of piercings, but he still took Kei’s hand.

“Ok Yacchan! You’re up!” Saeko called.

She wiggled out of Kiyoko’s arm, coming over to get everything set up.

“Do you want to wait for Kiyoko or do you want to just do it now?”

Yachi looked over at Kiyoko who was checking someone in. She shook her head. Kageyama offered her his hand. She gladly took it. Tadashi took her other hand, and Kei and Hinata placed a hand on her arm.

“Thanks guys. I really appreciate you all.” She smiled big.

She got her septum done and squeezed Tadashi and Kageyama’s hands the whole time.

“Yacchan, you look so cool.” Saeko showed her in a mirror, “ok so Yacchan’s is on the house so how are the rest of you paying.”

Kageyama pulled out his credit card, “here this is for all of them.”

“What! Kageyama you can’t do that.” Hinata yelled.

“Yeah I insist on paying for Tadashi’s and mine.” Kei frowned.

“Look,” Kageyama said, “my parents give me all this money and I never use any of it. Other than hoodies since hinata takes all of mine.”

They finally agreed to let Kageyama pay for them. Mostly because Saeko had already taken the card.

“Ok y’all can all go wait outside, I just have to talk to Saeko about planning out the rest of my ear.” Tadashi smiled.

“You sure you don’t want me to stay.” Kei took his hand.

“Yeah of course. I’ll meet you at the boba place ok.”

After they left, Tadashi turned to face Saeko who held up two small barbells.

“Ready?” she smirked.

Tadashi sat down at the table with the others.

“Dashi?” Kei stared at him, “what were you really doing?”

Tadashi stopped feeling everyone's eyes on him.

“Fine, I got another piercing.”

“You did what!” Kei said.

“Wait where?” Hinata asked.

Kageyama remained quiet.

“Well Saeko said that if I let her give me this piercing she would look past Kageyama’s age.” Tadashi explained.

“You didn’t have to do that.” Kageyama said, feeling guilty.

“It’s fine. I really wanted these.”

“Tadashi,” Kei said calmly, “Show me the piercings.”

Tadashi lifted his shirt revealing nipple piercings.

“Surprise?” Tadashi said nervously.

Everyone turned to look at Kei who was bright red.

[jacksonroseroth]

Blind Date Part 3

A/N: Thanks to everyone who made it this far on my first Baze fic! :) I hope you like Part 3! 

Warnings: None

Words: 2,379

Moodboard made by @badwolf-in-the-impala​, none of the pictures are ours

~

They rode as many rides as their tickets allowed before deciding on riding the Ferris Wheel after dinner, then made their way back to the front of the pier and got a table for two at Bubba Gump’s. They were seated outside and by the railing which made Taddie extremely happy. She glanced over the menu, quickly deciding on what she wanted, then shrugged off her jacket and gazed out over the beach and the water as Baze asked their waiter a few questions. He glossed over his menu before the silence truly registered and he looked up, over the menu, at Taddie. A small smile touched his lips.

Taddie leaned her chin in her hand and had a content smile on her face as her eyes bounced around, taking in the scenery. She slid her fingers through her hair and her curls resettled. In doing so, she tucked more of her hair behind her ear and Baze caught a glimpse of silver at the tip of her ear. As his smirk grew a little more, he lowered the menu and said, “Is that a cartilage piercing?”

Taddie turned to him and her hand shot up to her ear. With a soft laugh, she nodded, twisting the jewelry around for a moment, and said, “Yeah. I’ve had it for a long time. Christmas 2011, I think?”

Baze let out a brief, low whistle, then chuckled. “Nothing else pierced?” He asked, letting his eyes casually roam her face. Taddie shook her head and said, with a shrug, “Nope. Just the cartilage and two on each lobe. I kind of want my nose pierced though? But I’m terrified that I’ll accidentally rip it out and just the thought of that hurts.”

Taddie smirked as Baze let out a short laugh. “Yeah, I’ve ripped out a few earrings. I can’t imagine ripping it out of my nose.” He chuckled. Taddie nodded and wrinkled her nose slightly, then smiled. Their waiter soon returned with the answers to one of Baze’s questions and took their drink and appetizer orders.

“Double whiskey on the rocks and...Just the garlic bread to start with.” Baze said, giving the waiter a polite smile before looking at Taddie. At the mention of garlic bread, Taddie couldn’t help it as her eyes shot up to him and she tried not to smirk too hard.

“And for you, miss?” The waiter asked, turning to Taddie. With a brief lick of her lips, she looked away from Baze, up to the waiter and smiled, sweetly.

“Um...A glass of Moscato, please? And a water. Thank you.” She said. The waiter jotted it down and smiled at them both.

“Perfect. I’ll be right back with your drinks and your bread. And if you need anything, be sure to use the sign!” He said, giving a little hop and pointing two finger guns at the ‘Run, Forest, Run’ license plate sign at the end of the table. Taddie chuckled as he walked away then closed her menu and sat back, looking over at Baze.

“So, did Thea tell you I am a low key bread whore or am I just that obvious?” Taddie asked with a giggle. Baze smirked, letting out a soft snicker and shook his head, saying, “Nah, actually I was ordering for me. Did you want some?”

His smirk grew as Taddie laughed and kicked out her foot at him, gently. “Rude. Just because I’m a girl doesn’t mean I don’t eat. I have the munchies just like any other stoner.” She shot back. Now Baze laughed, sitting back and shaking his head, lightly. Taddie smirked and nudged his foot before pulling her legs back and crossing them at the ankle. Baze watched her, cocking his head to the side, slightly, then said, “How long have you known Thea?”

Taddie puckered her lips then exhale through them as she sat back. “God...All our lives? She’s actually my cousin and we’re as close as sisters.” She said with a soft chuckle. Baze raised an eyebrow and leaned forward, resting his forearms on the edge of the table.

“Really? How did I never hear about you before tonight then?” He asked with a soft chuckle. Taddie shrugged and chuckled, softly.

“I mean, she doesn’t go blasting my shit around, but I’m sure she has mentioned me in a few stories about when she was younger. We were really wild back in the day.” Taddie said with a giggle. “But she might have called me Theo. My full name is Theodora.”

“Theodora? Really?” Baze asked with a chuckle. Taddie tilted her head and gave him a look with a tight smile on her face. She couldn’t help her giggle as she said, “Are you making fun of me? Theodora is a badass name.”

“No! No, it is. It is. I just wasn’t expecting that.” Baze said. Taddie narrowed her eyes at him briefly before the look faded away and she chuckled. 

“What did you think Taddie was short for?” She asked, shifting in her seat to sit forward. Baze shrugged and said, “Dunno. Only thing I could think of is some little kid called you ‘Taddie’ instead of ‘Addie’?” When Taddie shook her head, Baze added, “So what made the change from Theo to Taddie?”

“Well, everyone mixed us up all the time; Me and Thea. I wanted to start going by Thea, but I started living with her when we were 16, so that pretty much flew out the window.” Taddie said with a laugh. She gave a shrug and said, “I dunno, I was at school one day and some kid was tossing out nicknames and he came up with Thaddie, it stuck but people dropped the ‘H’ and started calling me Taddie.”

“I like Taddie. It’s different. It’s cool.” Baze said, his voice a little lower and softer. A soft blush formed on Taddie’s cheeks as she fought her smile from growing. Thankfully, the waiter returned with their drinks and set the basket of bread on the table. After giving their order, the waiter left and Baze grabbed his glass, lifting it for a toast. Taddie chuckled and picked up her glass, touching it to his.

“What are we toasting to?” She asked, leaving her hand there, waiting. Baze chuckled and gave a small shrug, saying, “Blind dates? Sneaky friends who may actually know what they’re doing?”

“Oh? So tonight is going well?” Taddie teased, pulling her glass from his and to her lips to take a sip. Baze nodded as he took a drink and set the glass down.

“I think so...What about you?” He asked, watching her. Taddie nodded and smiled as she set her glass down. “I think so too.”

She crossed her arms on the table and leaned closer. Baze smirked and met her halfway, gently planting a kiss on her lips. Taddie giggled and slid her tongue over her lower lip then sucking it between her teeth, slightly, as he leaned away a little from her. Baze chuckled and picked up his glass for another drink before grabbing a piece of bread and ripping off a bite and chewing for a moment. Taddie shifted and placed one on her plate as well, then said, “Okay, I want to hear one of your stories now. I mean, while I’m a fan of Colson’s, I’ve seen some of the KellyVisions...Through no will of my own…So, I haven’t really seen them.”

Baze snickered softly and looked up at her. “Thea make you watch them?” He asked. Taddie nodded as she took a bite of her bread, quickly chewing and swallowing before she answered, “She’s been in love with Rook since she first found you guys. It took me a while for me to come around on you guys because she wouldn’t shut the fuck up about y’all.” She gave a giggle before adding, “But I came around. Anything she found funny or if we were bored in our apartment one night; it didn’t matter. I would spend like 2-3 hours watching videos with her and smoking. It was just...A thing we did.”

Baze laughed almost choking as he took another drink. Taddie took a sip of her wine and smirked. “I’m serious,” She said, taking another before setting the glass down. “It was quite ridiculous, I’m actually relieved she’s dating him.”

“Honestly, so are we. I don’t know what kind of hold Thea has on him, but, my boy has calmed down a lot in the last several months.” Baze chuckled, finishing the last bite of his garlic bread. “Well, there’s a lot of shit that happens on tour. We’d be here for several days.”

“She showed me a few spots of a video when you guys got caught in a hurricane in Mexico?” Taddie posited, picking up a second slice of bread and eating it. Baze snickered and shook his head, scratching at his beard before stroking it gently.

“Ah, shit. That was a long time ago. Shit was wild. Thought about eating Rook at one point.” He snickered. Taddie rolled her eyes and said, with a chuckle, “That was one of the parts Thea showed me.”

With a smirk, Baze nodded and said, “We were on the beach when we got the notice there was a hurricane. We were dumb and didn’t leave so we got caught in it kinda.” Baze chuckled to himself, remembering, as he said, “Kells and Rook got way too heated about a game of pool.”

Taddie gave a shrug and said, “It didn’t surprise me honestly.” She laughed, softly, and added, “I mean from what I know and what Thea showed me, y’all are wild.”

“Oh, yeah. Anything goes, honestly. That’s why it was brought up to eat Rook.” Baze said, picking up his glass as he gave her a wide toothy grin that made her chuckle. After taking a sip, he smacked his lips lightly and said, “Nah, we lost power that morning though. Almost the entire night too. Came back on late.”

“And you conveniently left out the newscast?” Taddie asked, trying to hide her smirk in her glass as she took another sip. Baze smirked and said, “She showed you that?”

“Um, it was almost immediately after the ‘eating Rook’ bit.” Taddie said, in a mock defensive tone, then giggled. Baze shook his head.

“Some wild shit happens with us, honey. At least Thea knew what she was in for.” Baze said, sitting back. Taddie shrugged and said, “I’ve heard some stories, so I wouldn’t be surprised at the shit y’all get into.”

Baze chuckled and said, “What about you, then? What do you do for work?” His eyes were fixed on her. Watching her as she smiled and looked away, a soft pink tinting her cheeks. With his eyes on her, he reached for a piece of bread the same time she had looked away to reach for one. When their hands collided gently in the basket, their eyes shot over at their hands, then back to each other with a twin chuckle. 

“Well, I’m a photographer.” Taddie started, her fingers finding the edge of the bread and grabbing it. Baze’s hand slid over hers slowly before grabbing a piece and moving it to his plate quickly. Taddie blinked once, quickly glancing down at her plate as she set the bread down, then looked back up at him and said, “I actually work with Thea. Sometimes she has make-up gigs and her clients are okay with a quick photoshoot, both for them and for us. Or I’ll have a photoshoot and they request make-up and Thea tags along, I charge for Thea and we split what we get.”

“Effective.” Baze said with a chuckle. “You guys have your own business or just freelance?”

“Mainly freelance. But a few times a year one of us will be contracted for an event or a wedding or a shower or something. Just depending on the job, we’ll work it together.” She said with a smile. “It’s actually quite a relief I get to work with her. She knows me so well, it’s just easy for the most part. And that’s when we give our quality work.”

With an understanding nod as he set down his glass, Baze said, “It’s a hell of a lot easier working with someone who knows how you work. Takes the stress away.” Taddie let her head hang back as she let out a soft groan and said, “It’s the worst when you’re alone on a project and there’s some bitch who thinks she knows better because she has model experience.”

Baze laughed as she adopted an affected accent at the end. “That’s the worst, honestly. Like, bro, do you want to do my job or me? What are you paying me for? What are we doing here, my guy?” Baze said, acting out with his hands. A giggle fit descended over Taddie as she finished off the rest of her wine.

“It’s one of the reasons I refuse to go back to portrait studio work.” Taddie said, scrunching up her face at the thought. She shook her head and with a sigh, she said, “It’s basically retail and customer service. I broke down twice during my first Christmas season…Stressful as fuck. Especially when we were left there alone most of the time? I made sure I was out before the second. I was not going to endure that again, no Ma’am!”

Baze chuckled and shook his head, popping the last bite into his mouth and wiping off his hands. Before he could ask anymore questions, their waiter came back with their meals, placing the plates down and clearing the bread and small plates.

“Was there anything else I can get you? A refill on the wine, Miss?” He asked, gesturing to Taddie’s empty glass. Taddie shook her head and handed it to him.

“Oh. No, thank you. I think just the one glass is fine.” Taddie said with a polite smile. The waiter smiled and took the glass, also with a smile.

“Well, if there’s anything else, don’t forget the sign.” He said, gesturing to the sign again. With a chuckle, before he walked away, the waiter added, “Enjoy your meals.”

~

Hope you guys like it! Let me know if you would like to be added to the taglist!

@badwolf-in-the-impala​

[z3ld4]

Mercy Me - Part Four

(not my gif!)

PART ONE,   PART TWO,   PART THREE*

Summary: Jacqueline Laymore can’t really tell when it started to hurt to call Spencer her friend. But that didn’t really matter after she got kidnapped. Right now all that matters is getting home and getting Spencer Reid.

Warnings: Bombs, the slur d*ke censored, throwing up, sexist pig cops, homophobia

Word Count: 1074

A/N: while I identify as bisexual I feel uncomfortable using any slurs [or any slurs in general] towards the LGTBQ+ community because I personally have never had any harm come towards me due to my sexuality and because I am more attracted to men and could micro label myself heteroromantic, also i’m like 80% sure that this isn’t how you should handle a bombing situation :| 

Jollie’s was loud and dirty. Jollie’s had a guy with a bomb strapped around his stomach on the dance floor.

Jacqueline really doesn’t like Jollie’s anymore. 

She really was starting to think if this was just bad karma. If Jacqueline deserved what was being thrown at her. It was irrational of her to believe so faithfully in higher powers, yes, but praying seemed like a pretty communal thing in the current situation. Trudy’s labored breaths were going in one ear and out the other. Jacqueline was busy trying to remember what to do in this type of scenario, nine years in the FBI had, had to have taught her something.

An a, B bomb, yes, C c, D detonator. Did he have a detonator? Jacqueline’s eyes found the man’s hand and saw that there was a small remote in between his thumb and forefinger. “Trudy.” Jacqueline hit the back of her hand against Trudy’s arm.

“Y-yeah?” Trudy was crying. Oh, God, she was crying.

“I need you to try and get out as many people as possible, and when you get outside, designate someone to call the police. Or you call the police and tell them there is a suicide bomber at Jollie’s.” Trudy nodded and Jacqueline sighed,

Then she stood up. With both hands up near her head, she took one tentative step towards the man with the bomb. “My name is Dr. Jacqueline Laymore. I am unarmed and I just want to speak with you.” Jacqueline heard a rustling from behind her and she sighs in relief inwardly.

“What’s your name?” Jacqueline asked.

“Kieran Markson,” the bomber said. Jacqueline nodded and took another step forward.

“Ok, Kieran. Why are you bombing this bar?” Her voice was shaky. Why was her voice so God damn shaky? 

Kieran swallowed, “My sister came out as a d*ke because of some slut from this bar.” He spits onto the floor near Jacqueline’s feet. In the corner of her eye, she can see red and blue lights. As much as Jacqueline hates the police and what they do in most situations, she was happy to see their arrival.

Jacqueline stared into Kieran’s eyes, “Why do you feel the need to bomb this bar though. Instead of talking with your sister? Or even cutting her out of her life?” The words left a bad taste in her mouth. She never never recommends cutting a family member out of your life. She had seen first hand what not being accepted by those closest to you can do to a person. 

“They… They broke my sister! This bar made her lose her job and friends and everyone who supports it should die!” 

‘With that logic,’ Jacqueline thought, ‘He must be telling the truth.’

“Can you hand me the detonator, please? I want us to talk seriously, and I’m afraid you’ll accidentally set off your plan before you can really do the most damage.” Jacqueline stretched out her hand, hoping, nay praying, that she played into his fantasies just right.

Just enough for her to take control of the situation without any deaths. Surprisingly, Kieran handed her the detonator. She held the hand holding the detonator up, so Kieran can see it at all times.

“Kieran,” Jacqueline said, catching his attention on her face, not her hand, “Do you have any other weapons on your person?” Kieran shook his head. Jacqueline raked her eyes over his body, double-checking. Though he didn’t lie and hasn’t yet.

The small remote then arched through the air, a theatrical arc, before landing somewhere behind the bar. Kieran watched the detonator’s motions with his mouth agape and his eyes wide. He started hyperventilating. “The bars empty Kieran.” The two’s eyes met. Kieran had this fire behind his eyes, Jacqueline's, on the other hand, were blank. This isn’t her first time doing a really, really bad job de-escalating a bomb situation.

Kieran, in the short time that she’s known him (a good thirty minutes), is a very narcissistic person, who is also fiercely loyal to those he’s close to. “You’ve failed your sister, Kieran. It’s over now.” Kieran narrowed his eyes and dove towards Jacqueline. She side-stepped him and shoved him towards the ground, taking hold of his right arm and pinning him down. 

Luckily, Jacqueline heard familiar footsteps. Policemen walked into the bar and found Jacqueline pinning down a writhing bomber. She also recognized Trudy's feet next to the Police's boots. "Ma'am. Can you please get off of him please?"

"I'm SSA Dr. Jacqueline Laymore, give me the handcuffs, I'll detain him." Kieran started squirming more under her.

"We can't do that ma'am." One of the policemen said. Another took his phone out, most likely looking Jacqueline up and then showed his screen to an older cop.

"A. It's doctor not 'ma'am'. B. If I get off of him he is going to start fighting back. Do you really think that he isn't going to hurt us? You didn't even bring SWAT with you. Or the bomb squad!" The police officers made sounds of disagreement but Kieran --who hasn't stopped squirming-- chuckled at her statement.

Jacqueline flipped her hair off of her shoulder and glared at the oldest officer, the one arguing with her. "Give. Me. The. Handcuffs." Reluctantly, he handed the handcuffs to Jacqueline. She handcuffed Kieran forcefully and yanked him up by the chain in between the two cuffs.

"The bomb squad is outside, they'll get the bomb off." Jacqueline glowered at the cop who informed her of this.

"You all handled this horribly. I'd be ashamed of yourselves," Jacqueline bit out. Her words sharp as her glare. The cop scoffed and rolled his eyes. Trudy came up behind Jacqueline and set her hand on Jacq's waist. She flinched at the pressure.

Trudy's breathing was hot on Jacqueline's ear, the piercings in her cartilage feeling odd with the new sensations. "That was like, really hot you know?"

"I didn't realize you were attracted really that attracted to me." Jacqueline pulled away from Trudy and walked into the women's bathroom, hoping that she doesn't follow her.

Jacqueline pushed open the first stall door. The first bathroom stall is the least used therefore the cleanest. People always skip it, but not me, and hopefully, not you either. His voice echoed in her head. Bouncing off of each corner in her brain. She angrily rubbed her hands against her skull trying to make it quiet. Serene and peaceful. Then she threw up in the toilet, emptying her stomach contents and purging the memory of that night.

[liahswriting]

Piercings

Relationship(s): Octane/Original Female Character (platonic)

Words: 1,966

Warnings: None

Summary: Octane talks about his piercings.

"How many piercings do you have?"

The question wasn't exactly out of the blue; she had been curious about Octavio's modifications before and often asked about his tattoos. He gladly explained to her about his prosthetics and had no shame in showing off all the ink adorning his skin and explaining the reasoning for getting each piece. Of course, most of his reasonings were "why not?". She found him interesting in many ways. Mostly it was because he was so incredibly different from her. While Octavio was always on his feet and constantly looking for another thrill, she was content to stay at home and relax. He did everything with speed, she was meticulous and careful. He loved to party and was a social butterfly, she could have just as much fun with a glass of wine and a nice dinner. He was overtly sexual, she was naïve. He was covered in tattoos and piercings, she didn't have any.

How they became friends, no one will ever know. Ajay Che liked to say that she was a nice balance for Octavio. Che often told her that he needed someone to keep him in check since he stopped caring about what Che thinks long ago. Whatever the case may be, she enjoyed having Octavio as a friend; he made her life interesting.

"You mean that I have now or that I've had altogether?"

"Both, I guess." she answered and he hummed in thought. He sat back on the couch, eyes turning every which way and fingers keeping track of the number. She watched in silence from beside him with her elbow pressed against the back of the couch and her head pressed against her palm.

"17" he finally said.

"Where?"

"Right eyebrow, tongue, bottom lip," he used his fingers to point at where the piercings were. "I have this part of my nose pierced," he pressed his thumb and forefinger to the bridge of his nose. "Used to have this part pierced," he then moved his fingers to the middle cartilage of his nose. She watched his fingers move in fascination. She wondered how he could possibly wear his mask and goggled while in the arena with all of his facial piercings. "Three on on my right ear, four on my left, and then I used to have my nipples pierced."

"What happened to the nose and nipple piercings?"

"Nose piercing got ripped off and the nipple piercings just got in the way so I took them out."

"Which one hurt the most?"

"Why all the questions?" Octavio challenged with a smirk. He threw one arm across the back of the couch, knocking against her elbow and forcing her to shift her position.

"Just wondering." she shrugged.

"Mhm. Come on, mami. Di la verdad."

"I don't speak Spanish, Tavi."

"Tell me the truth." he translated.

"I've been thinking about getting one." she said slowly, unable to meet his eyes.

"What?!" he jumped up straight on the couch and now fully turned his body to face her. He had a wide grin on his face. "You are thinking about getting a piercing? And you weren't gonna tell me?"

"I was just thinking about it, Tav. It's not set in stone."

"Come on, chica! You gotta get one!"

"I'm just worried it's gonna hurt a lot."

"If you're worried about the pain, don't be. Even the worst piercing won't hurt for too long."

"And how long is too long?"

"The worst piercing I've ever gotten only hurt for like a week."

"Which one was that?" she asked him again but he didn't provide a verbal answer. Instead, he just smirked at her. "Which one?" she repeated but still no answer. Did he want her to guess? "Was it on your ears?" he shook his head. "Your tongue?"

"Nope. Think lower."

"Your nipples?"

"Nope."

"Then which....?" her sentence trailed off as the cogs in her brain slowly started working. Her eyes mapped out all of the places Octavio had told her he had pierced, carefully counting each piercing. "Wait, you only told me 14. Where were the other 3?" He smirked at her once again. He wanted her to say it. He wanted to hear the surprise in her voice as she said it.

"Come on, chica. Use your brain." he taunted.

"Was it...." she used her hand to circle the air above his private instead of having to vocalize it. Her face burned in embarrassment but that only caused him to laugh at her expense.

"Correcta, bonita."

"Why!" she exclaimed.

"Why not?"

"But doesn't it hurt?"

"Not anymore. Like I said, a week max."

"I can not believe there are men out there who get their... their.... thing pierced."

"Aye, there are women who get their clits pierced." Octavio informed her.

"But whyyyy? I could never do that!"

"To each their own."

"Maybe I just shouldn't get a piercing." she shuddered. "I don't do good with pain."

"No! Come on! You have to get one. I promise it's not that bad."

"I don't even know what I'd get. I was only thinking about it."

"Well then let's talk about it. I can give you a pain rating for each of my piercings to help you decide. And I can go with you when you get it done."

She thought about it for a moment. She wasn't exactly sure if she really wanted to go through with this but it couldn't hurt to at least get some more information. So she nodded at him and he began telling her about each of his piercings and how much it hurt to get. He gave her a pain rating for when he was getting it pierced, for when it was healing, and for now after it was all completely healed. He told her how to keep piercings clean, how to change out the barbells, and what to expect as they heal.

Several days had passed since that conversation and Octavio kept asking her if she made a decision yet. Each time she told him no and he'd drop the subject for awhile until his curiosity got the better of him and he'd ask again. He gave his opinion every chance he got.

"You should get your tongue pierced." he told her.

"I don't know." she said back.

"Your lips don't hurt that much." he informed.

"Maybe." she thought.

"You'd look good with your nipples pierced." he laughed and she gasped at him.

"Octavio Silva!" she slapped at his shoulder and furrowed her eyebrows. He merely laughed a deep belly laugh. "I'm not getting my nipples pierced! Besides, I already made up my mind."

"What!" he jumped in place. "Tell me!"

"I want to get an ear piercing. I figured that would be my safest bet and it wouldn't be too eccentric or out of place."

"Esto es increíble! When will you get it done?"

"My appointment's tomorrow." she said nervously. "You're gonna come with me, right?"

"Of course, hermana! Don't worry, I'll be right beside you."

"Thanks. I'm still kind of nervous."

"It'll be over before you know it!" he assured.

The entire day went by incredibly slow and that night she had trouble keeping asleep. She didn't know why she was working herself up this much. It won't be as bad as she thinks it will but she still found trouble keeping calm. By morning, she was a fidgeting mess. She spent the whole morning with Octavio as she waited for her appointment time and the whole morning he was asking if she was alright. Despite her fears, she told him she was okay. He didn't buy it, of course, but he didn't pressure her in fear of scaring her even more than she already was. Once her appointment time got closer, Octavio got a cab for them to take them to the piercing parlor. Once there, her entire stomach flipped and she felt queasy.

"You sure you're okay?" Octavio asked worriedly.

"I'll be fine. Let's just get this over with."

"Look, you don't have to do this if you don't want to."

"It's just the pain I'm worried about."

"Everything will be just fine. Come on, take my hand." he held his hand out towards her and she let him take her hand. He lead her inside the place where she checked in for her appointment. It took 10 excruciating long minutes for the room to be prepped and ready for her. 10 long minutes of her brain just going haywire and second-guessing itself but before she could cancel her plans, they called her back and Octavio carefully helped her into the room and onto a table.

"So what are we having done today?" the piercer asked her as he put on some rubber gloves.

"I want to get my industrial pierced." she murmured out. The piercer looked at her questioningly.

"Are you sure that's what you want to do?"

"She's just nervous about it hurting." Octavio answered for her.

"Most first-timers are. I promise to be as gentle and quick as possible." he said and she nodded back. As the piercer was prepping her ear with disinfectant and marking off the spots where the needle was to go through, Octavio was soothing her with words of comfort.

"Squeeze my hand if it hurts." he said to her and she took a hold of said hand tightly in her fist. When the piercer asked her if she was ready, she nodded, took a deep breath, and gave an encouraging squeeze to Octavio's hand. She could feel the needle first prick through the top of her ear and the drag through the hole it just created. She squeezed Octavio's hand tighter and hissed between her teeth. Then the needle pierced through the bottom of her ear and completely stopped all motion. It was a weird sensation having a piece of metal stuck in her skin. The open wound rubbed harshly against the needle, making her eyes water profusely. Her grip on Octavio's hand did very little to take her mind off of the pain. His voice didn't do much to distract her either. It was then that the piercer moved the needle again and took it out of her ear, in it's place was a barbell. The piercer was careful not to tug the object as he screwed on the end ball to keep it from falling out of her ear.

"All done." she heard him say.

"See, that wasn't so bad." Octavio reassured. He wiped his free thumb over her cheeks to wipe away the tears that had fallen but she couldn't see him passed the tears that had gathered in her eyes. Once the piercer had gone over how to take care of the piercing, he got up to escort her back to the front for payment. But when she stood, she wobbled on her feet and almost toppled over. Octavio caught her before she could fall.

"You okay? You feel nauseous?" asked Octavio.

"No. Just woozy."

"Here, you sit for a moment, I'll go pay."

When she nodded back to him, he got up and left her alone. She took long, deep breaths to regain herself and dried her eyes with a tissue. Her head didn't feel any less dizzy but she was confident she wasn't going to pass out, so once Octavio was finished with paying the man for his services, she allowed him to help her back out to the cab to take them back to his place. He kept an arm around her at all times just to be sure she wasn't going to collapse. She didn't collapse, but she did rest her head against his shoulder and he tangled his fingers in her hair.

"Thanks for coming with me." she murmured.

"Any time, bonita."