#yes to clarify if your ask has more than 1 prompt

[geekforhorror]

congrats on 600!!! I love your work.

Can I request list 1, prompt 74, with anakin? (if it's not too much to ask, can it be Anakin getting off on his partner's thigh? I'd love you forever)

call out my name

pairing: aotc!anakin x fem!reader

warning(s): SMUT (DNI IF YOU’RE UNCOMFORTABLE WITH IT!), dry humping, thigh riding, ani being a dirty little thing, praise, mommy kink, degradation, pet names, fluff, etc.

————

You had never seen your sweet Ani like this. He was always so well behaved and now he was acting like a complete whore. He had no shame as it was taken over by his need for you. That’s how he ended up being completely shocked when you finally gave into his desires. But there was a tiny little catch.

"The only way you're getting off is on my thigh.”

“Wh-What?” he pathetically stuttered.

“You heard me, baby. I’m not gonna fuck you after how bad you’ve been for me,” you clarify in a mocking tone.

“ I-I’m sorry… Just wanted your attention,” he whines.

“Well you’ve got it now, naughty boy,” you snark. “Could’ve just asked me instead of acting out.”

“Promise it won’t happen ag- again,” he pleads.

“Oh I know baby because mommy’s gonna put you in your place since you’re being a little bitch in heat for me,” you taunt.

Before he can protest or counter your claim, you suddenly latch your lips onto his neck before your guys’ hands are roaming each other’s bodies heatedly. You can feel him moan into the kiss and you can’t help but chuckle against his lips. The kiss was full of pent up desire and need. Both of you could feel it.

You sit down on the bed before taking him along with you and position him on your lap. As soon as he put some of his body weight on you, you could tell how hard he was from the strained bulge created in his pants, the brown fabric showing it off perfectly.

“Mommy’s little slut is hard already? Maker, you’re pathetic, Ani,” you scold.

“Yes mommy… Just for you,” he assures.

“My poor boy… Has such a fat cock with nowhere to put it,” you say with a fake pouty lip. “Gotta hump my thigh like the pathetic little thing you are,” you tut. Your hand finds its way to his clothed, swollen shaft and you can hear an undeniable gasp leave his swollen lips.

“Oh fuck,” he gasps with his head falling back due to the sensation he was given from your dainty but skillful hand. You pull your hand away just as quickly as you put it there and you can see the disappointment etched onto his rather ethereal face. His eyes had a puppy dog like gaze to them as he waited for you to do something. Anything.

“Prove how good you can be for me, pretty boy,” you coo. You can see the glimpse of embarrassment in his pretty blue eyes, but is resolved with his need to prove himself to you. “Ride it,” you sternly say. He wouldn’t get a second chance and didn’t want to disappoint you, so he shifted himself accordingly until his hard on was flush with your thigh and lace panties. He hesitates for a second, but only long enough before you could scold him for his behavior after practically begging for it all day.

He finally complies with your request and starts to slowly grind his erection onto your luscious and soft thighs that he always loved. “Fuck…” Anakin mutters rather hastily, already lost in your world.

“I know you can do better than that baby… Wouldn’t want to disappoint mommy, would you?” you rhetorically ask, already knowing what his answer would be.

“No mommy, wanna be good for you,” he pleads.

“Then start going faster otherwise I’m going to have to seriously punish you, slut,” you warn through gritted teeth.

Seriously punish him? Then what was this? He already thought this was harsh enough, but he could only imagine his consequences if he didn’t. You would leave him all smeared in precum with a hard on without any way to relieve it. This was more merciful than that.

Taking your orders, he bounces himself faster on your thigh and he can already feel the pleasure starting to form within him. “Feels so good, mommy,” he says breathily, frantically looking for more friction between your guys’ bodies. You grant him this and start to bounce your thigh faster with each passing second. You take his hands off your waist and guide them toward your shoulders so he wouldn’t get fall and get hurt in the process.

You can feel him throbbing and twitching through the thin material of his pants, which you can’t help but savor. “Come on baby, don’t get shy with mommy now,” you tease.

Whatever last ounce of self control he has left is thrown out the window when you utter those words because before both of you know it, he starts humping your thigh as if the galaxy wouldn’t exist tomorrow. He claws at your shoulders in an attempt to stay steady while bucking his hips and cock on your heavenly warm thigh. His movements are rougher and harder than they were mere seconds ago. His pretty whimpers are few seconds apart from each other and fuck, did he sound heavenly, along with the sound of skin hitting skin

“Such a pathetic mess for me, Ani,” you coo, not expecting a response. Your words only spur him on even further to the point where you can see his eyes become blown out. All for you.

You can tell just from the way he’s breathing that he’s close and it turns you on more than you’d like to admit. “I’m gonna cum mommy!” he yelps.

“Fucking cum on me pretty boy… Always love it when you do,” you praise. You bounce your thigh up and down at a faster pace to give him the extra push he needs. It proves to be successful when you feel his hot seed splash all over you, creating a rather sticky mess. He throws his head back in ecstasy while riding out his high for just a while longer.

“Thank you baby, needed it so bad…” he confesses.

“Of course, my sweet Ani,” you say while caressing his hair. “I’ll always take care of my boy,” you say with a smile as the two of you gazed into each other’s eyes with love. “Always.”

[hopelessrromantix]

kinktober day 1 - somnphilia

somno obviously, not much prep, not gendered but reader has a dick

cis women dni

“Morpheus?”

Silence.

What a rare sight, Morpheus actually letting himself rest.

He was surely somewhere in the Dreaming. He was much weaker asleep than he was awake, but it meant he had to let himself relax. Mostly because he couldn’t perform his usual duties while sleeping himself.

Usually you wouldn’t want to disturb his sleep, but upon finding out that Morpheus can still feel what happens to his body he was practically begging for this.

You started small, light touches that hopefully wouldn't alert him. If anything he'd think you were shifting in your sleep. Your hands skimmed his hips and brushed his collarbone, not enough to give away your plans.

His back was against your chest, his body more relaxed than you'd seen him in a long time. His clothes were much lighter, though still the signature black color you never saw him without.

The small touches didn't go unnoticed, but they didn't disturb him either. Perfect.

You grew a bit more daring, sliding your fingers into your own mouth before dipping your hand into his pants.

Your finger softly traced the rim of his hole before dipping in, stretching him slowly. No noise so far, but time was sure to be limited before Morpheus decided to come back.

You dipped another finger in slowly, eventually adding a third. Soft moans came out of his mouth, just above a whisper.

You fully slid down his pants, lining yourself up and sinking into him slowly.

That elicited a much louder moan, and for a moment you were certain he'd woken up.

Still nothing. Wherever Morpheus was in the Dreaming, it seemed like he was having fun with this too.

Given the lack of intervention, you stopped being subtle.

Your hips snapped into his, forcing your cock deeper into him. He was tight around you, slowly clenching as you continued to fuck into him.

"Is this your idea of relaxing?"

His voice surprised you, though it sounded strained. You slammed your hips against him again, prompting a much louder moan.

"Well I was having fun," you smirked. "Couldn't help fucking you when you look so pretty."

You grabbed his hips, changing your position. You knelt behind him, facing him into the pillow as you kept going.

He whined at the compliment. "Touch me?" He pleaded, voice breaking slightly with each thrust.

"Ask nicely." You pulled him back onto your cock, thrusting forward at the same time. He let out a much louder whine.

"Touch me please? Please?"

You chuckled at the eager sound of his begging.

"No, sweetheart. You can cum on my cock alone, can't you baby?"

His whine was more like a whimper this time.

"I want an answer." You clarified, stopping your hips.

"Yes, I'll cum without you touching me." He responded, trying to drive his hips back.

"Good boy."

You were going to drive him mad.

[waterfallofspace]

A Little Game, A Lot Of Torture. 

The one in which G/ojo has been a bit of a (loveable) prick, so his friends decide to hold a little contest to see who can get him back the best. Contest rules? Whoever makes him sneeze the most in one attempt wins, you can’t get his help, you can only use one method. Let the games begin! (Do I have requests I should be working on instead? Yes. Was this idea haunting my every waking hour until I finally agreed to write it? Also yes. I promise I’ll get back to requests tomorrow &lt;;3) Takes a minute to get into heavy snz stuff, but hopefully it's still enjoyable! (credits to @snzdreams for the breathtaking headcanon that even talking about sneezing gets G/ojo going, and I hope it’s okay that I borrowed your genius to use in this <3 and doubly hope it's okay that I tagged you in it <33) Also I want to clarify: while they were all in the same class in highschool, this is set post-graduation, imagining a future where they all still hang out. (AU technically I guess haha~) Just making it clear, everyone in this story is meant to be an adult. Picture early 20’s. Characters: G/eto, S/hoko, and G/ojo. Plus a bit of S/atosugu Word Count: 4.1k (whoops-)

(References to swearing in case anyone doesn't like that!)

~~~~~~~

The rules were agreed upon the day before, Geto insisting that they needed to be clear.

Rule #1: You only get one attempt. If you fail, or he manages to avoid/subdue the attempt, it’s over. You don’t get a second try. If you get subpar results, same as before, no second tries. Amendment added by Shoko: number of sneezes only counts from the first couple minutes. If said attempt results in sneezing for the rest of the day, those are not to be counted.

Rule #2: Gojo is not to be informed of this, or asked for assistance of any kind. You cannot ask him for a list of what makes him most sneezy, you must use your knowledge of him to come up with your own methodology. 

And finally, Rule #3: You can only use one method. Said ‘method’ can include multiple inducing tools, so long as they’re considered one ‘attempt’. Ie. Multiple scented candles at once, or a bouquet of flowers are both considered one method. However, flowers and candles at the same time would be considered two. Amendment added by Geto: Helping him along with words doesn’t count as a method, and is therefore fair play. 

With those in place, Geto and Shoko got to work, each with an idea in mind. 

In order to not taint results the attempts will be held three days apart to give Gojo’s nose time to get back to baseline before the next attempt begins. Shoko is up first. Let the games begin! 

~~ Shoko’s Attempt ~~

‘I’m at a disadvantage. I know Gojo, he’s my friend, they both are, but I’ll never know him the way Geto does. He’ll always know more of Gojo’s quirks, especially since they’re so obviously in love. They both deny it, but the looks they share when they think no one can see tells a different story. If not dating, the feeling is at least mutual.’ 

Shoko pauses her musing, letting a smile take over as she waves to the boys, starting her approach with a hand in her bag. ‘Always together, even when I’m not around. I know they care for me, but the bond they share will always be one step deeper.’ Despite this, she has a plan. Earlier she wrote out a list of what she remembers Gojo showing reactions to in the past, eliminating anything less than a full attack. 

‘He’s quite sensitive, it doesn’t take much to set him off, but getting an actual fit from him is a touch more rare. Normally he has quite the exaggerated buildups, long and hitchy, which he makes a lot of noise about, but the actual sneezing is minimal. At least, compared to the results I’m looking for. No, I need something more than a simple sensitivity. If it was Geto I’d blow smoke in his face, but that’d only prompt a minor reaction out of Gojo.’ 

“Hiya Shoko, take a seat! Geto here was just sharing the mochi he bought!”

“I bought it for myself, you just stole half when my back was turned.” 

“Come on, we both know if you put something sweet in front of me I’m gonna eat it.” 

Shoko seats herself next to Gojo, sharing a glance with Geto when he’s distracted by the sweets once more. A darker tone dips into Gojo’s voice as he lets his sunglasses fall so Geto can see his eyes, a mischievous haze clouding them. 

“You knew the risks, now you pay the price.”

“The price being my mochi?”

“Exactly! Now you’re catching on~.”

With that, Gojo grabs another one, laughter bubbling out as Geto attempts, and fails, to smack his hand away. However, before he can pop it in his mouth, he freezes, hand inches from his face. His breath catches, nose twitching. Shoko finds Geto’s eyes darting over to her, and she offers a slight shake of the head. ‘Nope, not my attempt, this is all him.’ Geto starts to speak, eyes flickering back over to Gojo.

“You alri-” 

“heHh-! hah’adJSHhh’iew-! hep’gshh’iew-!”

“Blessings.” 

“Guhhh- thank you.”

Shoko takes her turn to speak, eager to ascertain any possible advantages. ‘If he’s sick his nose will be extra sensitive, and I may be able to cinch this win. Especially given Geto needing to wait three days, ideally the window of sensitivity will have passed.’ 

“Feeling okay?” 

“Indeed. This is just the price I must pay for being so talented- huEH’djZShh’uu-! I can't be perfect in every aspect, that would just be unfair!”

“Come again?”

Geto rolls his eyes, gesturing to the sky as he turns his gaze back to Shoko once more. Gojo meanwhile wipes a few tears from his cheeks, groaning lightly at the quickly increasing watery nature of his eyes. 

“He’s just allergic to the sun.” 

“I am not allergic- I’m just a tad sensitive to bright lights. Christ this is annoying.”

“Was the mochi really worth it?”

“Suguru Geto, don’t you talk like that! Mochi is always worth it!”

The eagerness has quickly faded out, Shoko letting an airy sigh press out between her pursed lips. ‘Right, I did know about this. I believe it’s called a photic sneeze response? He’s had it for as long as I’ve known him, though I believe he said it’s gotten worse the more he wears those glasses. Blocking out the light so much of the time only adds to his sensitivity when it inevitably breaks through. However, it causes very few sneezes, he said the main issue is his eyes watering.’

“If you touch the last piece I’m making you buy me a new one.”

“Aw- that’s not faiiiir!” 

“Boys, boys, let’s not fight. I have a better solution.”

With that, Shoko swipes the last piece, grinning at the complaints from the guys as she places it against her tongue, savouring the sweet taste. Her mind dips back to her plan as Gojo starts to whine about being hungry again. 

‘He’s incredibly sensitive, even the mention of sneezing is enough to get his nose itchy. Describing how much it must tickle is fair game, but on its own, pretty ineffective. He’s annoyingly good at holding back when he wants to be, so if he catches on that sneezing is what I want, he’ll do everything in his power not to. I just need him to think I’m teasing him for his reaction, can’t let him read deeper into my motives.’ 

“Shoko?” 

“Hm?”

Her name pulls her back into the conversation, both Geto and Gojo watching her closely, a lopsided grin spreading across Gojo’s mouth. ‘Oh, I’m going to enjoy wiping that smug look off his pretty-boy face.’  Gojo speaks up again, Geto’s eyes following her movements as she casually lets her hand dip back into her bag. 

“I was asking if you’d want to come with us to the mall, DiverCity specifically? I’ve been craving chocolates that they sell at one of the stores for days.” 

“Funny you mention it, I was just thinking about that place earlier. I’d love to come, but I have an assignment. Next time though, yeah?”

“Aw fiiiine, but Geto, you’re still coming, right?”

“Sure, why not. I could use a few things.” 

Shoko tunes out again, hand tightening around a bottle as she lets a smirk spread across her face. ‘Funny he mentions the mall, seeing as that’s exactly where I got my method from.’ The last time they’d gone together she’d been showing him around a store he’d never been to before. It specializes in calming methods, and given how stressful being a Jujutsu sorcerer can be, she finds herself drawn there often.

An employee next to them had been showing a few people a new pillow spray, and as soon as they’d spritzed it, Gojo had been bent over into his arm with a rapid fit. She’d had to drag him out of the store. ‘Quite embarrassing at the time, especially given how whiny he can get during an attack, but now? Now I’ll get to use that spray to get payback.’ 

“Hey, Gojo.”

She cuts into their conversation with ease, used to interrupting them. ‘With those two, someone is always talking. If you wait for a pause, you’ll never get a word in.’ Gojo turns to her with a curious look, across the blanket Geto mimics it, a hint of something deeper flashing through his eyes. She gives him a quick nod, smirk quickly spreading across his face as he attempts to cover it. 

“You know how I’ve been having a lot of trouble sleeping recently? I found a new spray that has been really helping. I thought you might want to have a look at it, I know you sometimes struggle with insomnia too.”

“Oh, that’s kind of you, yeah show me- show me- show me!” 

‘Kind isn’t quite the word I’d use, but I appreciate your excitement anyways.’ Pulling it from her bag, she’s unsurprised at the lack of recognition in his eyes. He’s never been one for cataloging irrelevant information, and for some reason he’d decided keeping a list of everything that sets him off was irrelevant.

Taking off the cap, she gives him an open smile, before spraying it right in front of his face. ‘Can’t risk actually hitting him, that would be too suspicious, but I want it to get as close to his nose as possible.’ The result, much to her delight, is instantaneous. 

“hhaHhHH-! Wh- whAhht- what kind of sp- spra… sprayisthat… heH’gnDZShh’uuhh-!”

“Something wrong?”

“I think I’m- eH’GNDZSHh’uu-! I think- heHASIhh’oo-! ah’gehhzshh’iew-!”

“Are you okay?” 

Geto’s watching carefully, Shoko’s sure he’s keeping count in his head. Still, needing Gojo to believe her facade, she offers sympathy, pulling a travel pack of tissues out of her bag. ‘Tissues that just so happen to be sprayed with the allergen. Still only counts as one method, according to the rules.’

“Y- yeah- hAgzshh’uu-! knDzshh’iee-! Oh, scus- scuseme- heHhh-!”

“Here, take these, you sound like you need them.”

“Th… thhhehHh- thank you- hH’GUHzshh’oo-! aiYISHH’oo-! aHH’DNGZSHh’uu-! Oh god…” 

“Blessings, Gojo.”

Finally speaking up, Geto catches Shoko’s eye and mouths ‘nine’. She shoots back a whispered ‘so far’, catching a smile in response. Gojo’s too busy tearing into the pack of tissues to notice any of this, bringing one to his nose as he gets a pause in the sneezing. He manages to blow, breathing a sigh of relief, instantly cut short by an itchy inhale. 

“heAHh-! hH’DnZShh’uu-! AYISHH’oo-! KETZSHHH’oo-! What the- henGT-! ainGT’shoo-!”

“Blessings indeed, Gojo. Are you alright?”

“The ti- tihhhckle- heH’kNGDT-! haAHh-! eh’dnZZShh’oo-! Scuse me- the tickle got wo- wo… worse… I’m… I’m gonna… heHh-!” 

Shoko smirks as the tears start pooling in Gojo’s eyes, his nose quivering as it starts to flush a brilliant shade of pink. ‘Time to implement phase two: suggestions. Just gotta be careful not to tip my hand. He’s attempting to stifle, which will only help, it only makes the tickle stronger.’

“You must be allergic to the spray, I’m so sorry, I had no idea!”

“heH-! hh’gndJSHH’uu-! AIYShhh’iew-! heH’DJZSHh’uu-!”

“Oh, bless you. Sounds really itchy, are yo-” 

“hH’DJEZSHh’aa-! Sh- Shoko- waaitt… ahh’keTShh’oo-!” 

“-you feeling it? The burning sensation-” 

“eh’GnDJZSH’aahh-! hAHh’inGKt-!”

“-filling your sinuses? Like a feather, gen-"

“nGEHT’choo-! hePt’choo-! eNgEHP’choo-!”

“-gently brushing the inside of your nose?” 

“heAIISHH’uhh-! eh’GdJZShh’uu-! I need… I’m gonna… I can’t…!”

Geto gives her a pointed look, lightly tapping his wrist. ‘Time’s almost up, time for the home stretch. Gotta make sure I get one last fit outta him. I know exactly what to say.’ Gojo’s nose is pressed into his wrist, trembling with allergic need as the tears keep flowing down his cheeks, seemingly making the tickle even worse as they brush up against the edges of his nose.

“I’m so sorry, Gojo. If I’d have known you were this allergic I never would have sprayed it so close to your nose! I mean, the droplets must have just floated through the air, gently landing on your skin, right on the tip of your nose-”

“Cru- Cruel Shoko- hEH’EDZSHH’uu-! eh’KTZSHhh’aa-! aiYISHH-keATzhh’oo-!” 

With that, Shoko meets Geto’s eyes one last time, mouthing ‘how many?’, quite satisfied by the ‘thirty-two’ she receives in return. Her satisfaction only rises as Gojo ducks into his arm with another tightly stifled burst, Geto raising an eyebrow at the display.

“hH’KNGt’choo-! iNGt’choo-! hah’DNGt’choo-!”

“Blessings, Gojo.”

“Snff- Thank you, Geto. Guhhh… I’m gonna be itc- itchy… hh’GNZshh’iew-! for the rest of the day.” 

Shoko pulls the tissues from Gojo’s lap while his focus is aimed towards Geto, replacing them with a second pack from her bag. ‘As fun as it is to watch you suffer, my attempt is over, no need to prolong the exposure. This reaction is gonna last for most of the day anyways.’ 

“Blow again, it might help dispel some of the allergen.”

“Yeah, good- eh’aISHH’uu-! good idea. Ya know, that may help you sleep, but I’m- heHh-! hEZSHHH’aa-! I’m getting the vague notion it wouldn’t do the same for me.” 

Geto laughs, a smile tearing through Gojo’s itchy face at the sound, Shoko soon joining in. ‘Always one step removed, just outside the joke, but that’s okay. At least for now, I’m in on the joke while Gojo isn’t. I can live with that.’

Final Results: Thirty-Two (32) sneezes from Shoko’s Attempt. Method Use/Application: Linen spray Gojo is allergic to, sprayed in front of face/on tissues presented to him. Sneezy talk was also implemented, increasing success. 

~~ Geto’s Attempt ~~

‘Shoko’s try yielded better results then I was counting on. I may know more about Gojo but some facts escape even my grasp. I had no idea he was so allergic to that spray. However, that wasn’t what set her apart, it’s her cunning. She explained to me after that she sprayed it on the tissues. Truly genius, I would’ve never thought of that.’ 

This time it’s Geto’s turn to approach the duo, eyes closing as he smiles, Gojo giving a shout and Shoko putting out her cigarette. ‘I guess she doesn’t want to be called out for interference. It’s no matter, I don’t plan on letting anything distract me from my attempt. I didn’t have to think long about what to use, just how to best utilize it.’ 

“Geto! Shoko was just telling me about a new type of chocolate she saw the other day! Can we go buy some? Pleaaaase? Pretty please?”

“You still owe me for the last pack I bought you.”

“Aw, come on, you know you wannaaa~! You don’t wanna deny me of my happiness, do you?”

“You can have happiness without chocolates, Gojo.”

“How could you say such things?”

Gojo lets a pout spread over his face, lightly huffing as he leans his head against Geto’s shoulder. ‘Dramatic as always. Though, I guess that’s the reason we came up with this little challenge in the first place. One I’m sure to win with what I have planned.’ His mind starts to drift back to the first time he got to witness Gojo and lavender in the same room. 

They’d been in a meeting together, the higher ups needing something Geto can’t recall now. It’s not of importance, even at the time it was one of the last things on his mind. Front and center was Gojo’s losing battle against the vase of lavender sitting almost mocking him on the table.

Normally, should the situation call for it, Gojo could hold off an allergy attack for hours, or at least upwards of twenty minutes. However, against the lavender he lasted no more than three, needing to leave the room just after seven because he was no longer able to form full words between the sneezing. The higher ups had been quite irritated, but today it would serve Geto well.

“Earth to Geto? Suuuguruuu? You there?”

“Huh?”

“Jeez, what is it with you two lately? Did I miss something, or is it just ‘stare off into the abyss with a smile creeping at your mouth’ season?”

“Sorry, I was just reminiscing.”

“Any particular memory you want to share, Geto?”

Shoko offers, eyes flashing with mischief as Geto sends a dark look in her direction, quickly replaced by a smile as she playfully sticks out her tongue.

“Not at the moment.”

“Oh, I know! Why don’t we play ‘share your favourite memory of Gojo’!” 

“Yeah, no.”

“Aw Shoko, you’re no fun.”

Geto chuckles, ruffling Gojo’s hair as he gazes up from behind his sunglasses. ‘Just placing the lavender near him wouldn’t work. He could either leave the area, or the attack might not surpass thirty-two. The reason it had such a severe effect in the meeting was likely do to the pollen having a chance to gather in that tiny room.’

“Gojo, I have a gift for you.”

“A gift? You shouldn’t have!” 

“Well if you don’t want i-”

“Hey, woah-woah-woah- of course I want it-!”

Reaching into his bag, Geto starts to set his plan in motion. ‘My best chance is getting some form of lavender where I can get it near his nose, close enough for the pollen to have a chance to float around him, but not obvious enough that he’ll just avoid it. I think this is the perfect solution.’

Making direct eye contact with Shoko, Geto sends her a message clearly. ‘My attempt is about to begin, get ready’. His hands grip around the present, placing it gently on Gojo’s head, fighting a smirk at the joy filling Gojo’s eyes.

“A flower crown!?” 

“Yes. You showed me how to make them a while back, and so I made this one myself. I thought you might appreciate it-”

“Suguru… I love it! What kind of flowers are these?”

“Mostly sakura, though I did add a few other plants I found in the area to tie it together.” 

‘If I just used lavender he’d simply take it off when he started sneezing. However, given that it’s not a type of flower he’s allergic to, it won’t be his first thought. Because of that, he’ll be too focused on sneezing to worry about removing it, letting the hidden lavender keep sending wafts of pollen down into his face. Plus, I made sure the sakura was quite pollen soaked. He’s not allergic, but with his nose already being set off from the lavender, the sickly sweet smell is sure to prompt a few extra sneezes.’  

“It’s bea- hEHh-! Oh, scuse me. It’s beautiful.”

“You alright?”

“Yeah, just thou- ahHh-! Hehh… thought I was… o- oh… I am…. I’m- hH’DjZEShh’oo-!”

“Blessings, Satoru.” 

“iHh’kETChh’uu-! S- sorry I… eH’DtjZSh’iew-! hEh’kezzchh-aiyshhh’aa-knGT’choo-!”

“And again.” 

A glance over to Shoko tells Geto she’s keeping track, fingers tapping against the railing she’s leaning on with every sneeze. Gojo lets out a faint whine, hand coming up to scrub at his nose as tears start dripping from his eyes.

“hH’GNt’choo-! ehH-! Ohfuck- hH’NGT-EINGT-nNGT-knDT’choo-! aINGT’choo-! hAH’DJZSHHEW-!”

“Christ, Satoru, bless you.”

“knngT-! aIghNT’choo-! hH’YEZSHH’aa-! AIYShh’oo-! neH’GEDT’choo-!”

Geto risks another look at Shoko, barely containing his smirk at the dumbfounded expression she’s wearing as Gojo frantically fans his face. ‘I haven’t even started talking about the tickle yet. He’s more allergic than I remembered. I almost feel bad…’ His thoughts are cut off by Gojo pressing his rapidly twitching nose into Geto’s shoulder, hitching against the fabric of his shirt. ‘And that’s why it’s only almost.’

“henGT’choo-! hH’DEHgnT’choo-!”

“You should stop that, you’re not-”

“heH’KNDTZSHH’uhh-! ihh’GNXXZT’choo-!”

“-gonna be able to catch a breath.”

“You- you’re right… Suguru it- it tihhhhckles… hEaHh-! AIYZSZHH’uu-! kuh’MMZSHH’aa-!”

Gojo’s voice is muffled from the congestion already seeping through the cracks, and Geto feels a pang of guilt tear at his heart. It’s quickly replaced by something calmer as Gojo aims the next fit at Geto’s chest, flower crown shaking lightly as he ducks his head, only releasing more pollen. ‘Sorry Satoru, but this is well deserved. Time for a little power of suggestion.’ 

“aH’GnZH’euu-! hehHh-! hH’MMZSHHH’oo-!” 

“Blessings. Those sound quite itchy-” 

“emmpffshh’oo-! hEPT’choo-! ehP’choo-!”

“-don’t they? Something bothering your sensitive-” 

“hHMPPT’choo-! AInGT’choo-! S- Suguru- hNGT’choo-! heH’KDZGT’choo-!”

“-nose? I bet it’s tickling something awful, isn’t it?” 

Meeting Gojo’s watery eyes, Geto lets himself slip right into stage three of his plan, time quickly running out. ‘Knowing him, he should be sensitive enough by now that just the word sneeze will set him off. Let’s try to get a handful more. I believe I’ll win anyways, but better safe than sorry.’

“eNGXXT’choo-!”

“Don’t you just-” 

“hepDT’choo-!”

“-have to…”

“hAhHh-!”

“Sneeze so badly?”

“hAH’ADJZSHH’uu-! keTSCHH’aa-! AIYZSHH’uhh-!”

“Blessings again for those sneezes.”

“I kn- know what…. Ohgod- hEH’EDZSHHEW-! guhhH’DNZSHH’oo-! I know what you’re doing.”

“Doing? I’m simply blessing you as you sneeze.”

“AIYZSHH’oo-! hH’GNkZSHH’uhh-!”

Taking pity on him as Shoko mouths ‘time’s up’, Geto pulls the crown from Gojo’s hair, tossing it to the side as the sneezy man ducks into his arm for another fit. ‘Whoops… maybe I should have removed it a bit sooner…’

“iNGt’choo-! heASHH’oo-! kEtCSHh-aizshh-kezZSHH’uu-!”

“Bless you Satoru…”

“You- hEHnGT’choo-! Sound quite gui- guilty- eh’knSHH’uhh-! Guilty, Suguru. Why ever could- hh’gEZSHH’aa-! Christ… Could that be? Wouldn’t have any-hNGSHH’iew-! Anything to do with my having two allergy attacks in the past four days, would it?” 

Geto’s eyes snap to the floor, a warm tint starting to spread across his cheeks, Shoko chuckling as she lightly pats Gojo’s back, letting her eyes close with a slight huff.

“I think he’s caught us, Geto.” 

“I believe so.” 

“hNNSCHh’iew-! Would someone care to explain to me what’s going on exactly?”

“Of course, but first we should probably get you some allergy medication. There was lavender in the flower crown.”

Gojo’s watery glare meets Geto, his mouth hanging open. ‘Probably less from shock and more for the sake of breathing. I doubt much is flowing through his sinuses right about now.’ Geto can’t help but smile at the sight, pink nose vibrating as Gojo attempts to end the attack by pinching it shut, tears streaming from his gorgeous eyes. ‘If he wasn’t so miserable, I’d want to see this side of him more often, he’s quite adorable like this.’

“I want to be mad bu- knDJZSSH’uu-! But I proooobably deserved this.”

Laughter erupts from the group, Shoko nearly falling over as it bursts from her chest, Geto pulling Gojo closer as they start walking back into the school, explaining the competition to a still sneezing Gojo.

Shoko leads them to her office where she keeps a stash of medications for situations like this. ‘Well, not exactly like this,’ Geto chuckles to himself, ‘I doubt there’s even been a situation quite like this one. Oh, that reminds me-’

“Say, Shoko, I did win, didn’t I? Even not counting-”

“hHNGTshh’aa-!”

“-the bonus ones?”

“Unfortunately, yes. It’s not like I stood a chance in the first place, you two obviously know more about each other.”

“Actually, I didn’t know he was allergic to that spray. That was all you.”

“Huh, really? Interesting. Oh- I guess you want to know the numbers?”

Geto flashes a smile, eyes wrinkling as Gojo whips around with another small fit aimed at the floor. He nods at Shoko, murmuring a blessing against Gojo’s hair as he convulses. 

“heh’gnZSHhh’oo-! eh’kshhh’iew-! heHh-! hAH’DTZShhh’uu-!”

“Again, not counting the extras, you rang in at forty-two. Exactly ten more than mine, surprisingly enough.”

“Oh Christ, that wasn’t counting the ones I- hH’gnZZShh’aa-! I’m still doing?”

A blush spreads across Gojo’s face, one of the strongest sorcerers in the Jujutsu world apparently not immune to embarrassment. Shoko offers a laugh in response, rummaging through her desk until she finds a blister pack, handing it over. Geto grabs a bottle of water from the fridge, passing it to Gojo with another blessing, lightly cupping his face for just a second.

“I saw that, ya know.” 

This time both men blush, Shoka rolling her eyes playfully, then throwing a box of tissues at Geto. Gojo hastily yanks out a handful, blowing his nose with a deep groan before sniffling into the pile.

“Clean him up, will ya? It’s been a long day, I’m headed home.”

“hH’AieZSHH’uu-!”

“Let’s play again some time, shall we, Shoko?”

“Yes, let’s. Next time I’ll beat you for sure.”

“hAH’ZASHH’oo-! How ‘bout next time it’s a free for all? I’d like a little chance for revenge.”

“This was the revenge, Satoru. Ours.”

“Oh fine, but you two owe me some chocolates! Oh- oh, and mochi!” 

Shoko smacks Gojo upside the head as Geto lets a laugh burst from his chest, the other two soon joining in harmony.

The world outside may be a dangerous place for a Jujutsu sorcerer, and the three of them aren’t immune to the stress, but right here, right now, they’re just three friends sharing a laugh.

Final Results: Forty-Two (42) sneezes from Geto’s Attempt. Method Use/Application: Lavender hidden in a flower crown already dripping with sakura pollen. Also used suggestibility, increasing success with sneezy talk.

[legolasghosty]

So. About a year ago, the lovely Innytoes created a list of spicy writing prompts. And I, being the dorky ace that I am, decided to take it as a personal challenge to see just how UN-spicy I could do some of said prompts. The actual giving of prompts was kept to a few friends, and it was mostly a silly thing back when I could actually sit down and spin up a one shot in an evening. (A few of said prompts actually made it to ao3 at various points, you can read them here, here, here, and here!)

HOWEVER, I took a couple of the prompts off of the list before I offered it to my friends for prompts. Mostly cause I just had no idea how to make said prompts not sexual. But one of them has continued to haunt me for over a frigging year now! SO, here's some little snippets of how one could de-saucy-ify the prompt, "The lube is what flavor?"

Option 1 -

"Okay so what am I supposed to be getting again?" Alex asked, the phone to his ear as he entered the O'Reillys.

He heard Bobby groan on the other end of the call. "We've been over this at least five times, Lex." Alex could feel his exasperated glare without even seeing him.

"I'm sorry," Alex sighed. "I just know literally nothing about car fluids. Blame the gay in me or whatever."

"You do realize I'm gay too, right?" Bobby pointed out. "But again, you're looking for silicon lubricant. And for the love of God, don't get that Red and Tacky garbage Chad 'recommended'."

"I'm sorry, the lube is what flavor?!" Alex demanded, turning onto the aisle marked 'Fluids'.

"You're not supposed to-whatever-just get the silicon stuff," Bobby said instead of answering. "Valvoline usually works just fine."

Alex glanced around at the overwhelming shelves of bottles and jugs. He drummed out the beat to a song Luke and Julie had shown them the day before on his leg as he narrowed down the options. There, that looked right.

"Okay I found it," he told Bobby. "But you're explaining how car lube can be 'red and tacky' to me later."

"Deal," Bobby responded, sounding relieved.

Option 2 -

"-and the vocal folds need to be kept moist," Julie explained.

Luke nodded, but Julie knew she was losing him. His vocal health notes had dissolved into scribbles and half-finished lyrics. She'd better wrap this up.

"So they're naturally lubricated with a really thin layer of mucus," she continued. "And in order to keep that layer thin and stuff, you have to stay properly hydrated."

She paused to pick up the light blue plastic water bottle from the studio floor. But when she looked back up to whack him with it, the mostly full container seeming like a decent way to make a point, he was already staring at her, eyes full of confusion.

"What?" Julie asked, one hand flying automatically up to her ponytail to see if it had come loose or something.

"The lube is what flavor?" Luke asked, mouth hanging open a bit.

"I-what?" Julie asked again, now feeling almost as confused as her bandmate looked.

"The voice cord lube stuff," Luke responded. "You said it's like mucus. But isn't that just... snot? Your voice is covered in stuff that tastes like snot?!"

Julie tried to hold back. She really did. But she failed. She burst out laughing, dropping Luke's water bottle in a futile attempt to hide it. "Luke, mucus is more than just snot," she tried to explain through her giggles. "But yes, that's what keeps your vocal cords moist."

Luke shook his head. To all the world, he may have looked like a man who'd just been told he was colorblind, that everyone else could see a universe of shades his eyes couldn't comprehend.

But only Julie would know the truth. At least some part of her mini-lecture on vocal health got through.

Option 3 -

"Okay, and then pass me the 205?" Flynn requested, holding out a hand to Reggie, who was sitting on the floor along with most of Flynn's tools.

"Um, the what?" Reggie asked sheepishly, glancing around at the various brushes, screwdrivers, and small tubes surrounding him.

"Oh, the switch lube," Flynn clarified, pointing at a small jar. "It's GPL 205G0, and there's lots of types of keyboard lubricant, so we usually just use the numbers to ID them."

"Oh, right, sure," Reggie responded, passing her the container. "Sorry. Computers aren't really my thing."

"Well that's what you have me for," Flynn pointed out, smirking. "I fix your glitchy keyboard, you keep me from failing math."

Reggie laughed and leaned back against Flynn's bed while she worked. After a minute, she passed him back the jar and started fitting the keys back into place. He entertained himself by inspecting the black lid.

"Wait, so the lube is what flavor?" he asked, looking up at Flynn again. "Da-vinny-key?"

"Divinikey," Flynn corrected easily. "And that's a brand, not a flavor. Please don't eat keyboard lubricant."

"Well I wasn't planning on it..." Reggie said, letting his sentence trail off suggestively.

"Reginald Jacob Peters, you wouldn't dare," Flynn warned, shooting him a glare over her shoulder.

He held her eyes for one moment. Two. Three. Fo-

Reggie burst out laughing, with Flynn only a moment behind.

"I make no promises," Reggie wheezed as he got his breath back.

"I'm not taking you to the hospital when it poisons you," Flynn shot back, her grin betraying her words.

Thank goodness Reggie's keyboard was done already.

Thank you, sorry for wasting your time with my brain worm!

[likebreadandwine]

Hi there, anon who asked about your boundaries here

Thank you for clarifying! I think, given what you stated, this might be outside the borderline for you, so I'm going to pitch my request/suggestion in two different ways, with the second version hopefully being fully within your boundaries/interests?

Context: I'm around 350 pounds and am recovering from a restrictive ED. I'm doing okay overall and I have a fat-positive dietitian and therapist I'm working with, but sometimes on really bad days it's really hard for me to eat and/or believe that I'm healthier staying this fat than I would be if I tried losing weight again.

So with that said, Version 1:

You've caught me in the latest in a strong of bad moments when I'm struggling to allow myself to eat. In your signature gentle/insisting tone, you confront me about this, telling me I'm not supposed to be losing weight and that I need to stop trying to fight what my body needs to be. Before I have a chance to protest, you remind me that I'm feeling so upset with myself and desperate to be smaller because I'm sick. You reassure me that I'm safe and that I need to eat and keep my weight up. It might even help me feel better if I put on a bit more as well to be sure my body has what needs to heal and recover. And when it comes to how I look as I grow bigger throughout this process, I'm also growing prettier to you, not just because of the new weight and curves, but because even if I'm not aware of it myself, you can tell that I'm feeling so much happier and confident the more I eat and let my body be the way it's supposed to be. And if I can't be trusted to keep myself well fed, then you're just going to have to step in and make sure I keep gaining back the weight you know I need even if I'm not ready to accept that.

Version 2

Your friend/date/whoever has always struggled with their body image, and they're so self-conscious about the idea of someone even seeing them eat, but less being literally fed by someone else. But you sit down with them, giving them some comfort and encouragement, assuring them that everything's okay, there's nothing wrong with their fat body, that it's okay and even a beautiful thing if they keep growing. You know they're nervous, but you know what's best for them, even if they're not ready to believe it for themselves. Once they've put on the weight they need, they'll be feeling so much better that it won't take much convincing from you to let themselves get just a little bigger... and a little bigger...

I hope that this wasn't upsetting to read, and I completely understand if neither of these scenarios are something you're comfortable or interested in playing out either in writing or audio. This is already way too long so I'll cut myself off here, but I just want to thank you for what you do here and for being so kind and encouraging in all your posts!

anon, I would love to do this for you and I'm going to. as a person with a history of restrictive eating myself, there are things in this prompt that I need to hear. it's exactly the sort of thing that I find therapeutic to write. so yes, I will work on this, and I will come up with something.

also—thanks for your vulnerability. thanks for asking for what you need. I'm really glad to hear you're doing okay.

take care xx

[curtklingermanposts]

Endgame

When Things Feel Off

How many would say, “I’ve been obedient to what the Lord has given me to do. At least to best of my ability. Things have been going well, but recently things feel off?” That sort of thing can be confusing, or even disheartening. Especially, if it continues for a period of time. Some might conclude it’s an attack from the enemy, which is a common school of thought. As a suggestion, don’t make that you’re go to conclusion. He doesn’t deserve that kind of attention (we will not address this any further here).

It may be some inner turmoil coming to the surface that needs addressing. There are processes God takes us through in order to remove those things that are contrary to our new nature. We won’t dive into this principle at this time. Suffice to say, always look for the precious; don’t assume the worst.

Wherein ye greatly rejoice, though now for a season, if need be, ye are in heaviness through manifold temptations: That the trial of your faith, being much more precious than of gold that perisheth, though it be tried with fire, might be found unto praise and honour and glory at the appearing of Jesus Christ (1 Peter 1:6-7).

Another possibility is there’s a change in direction, or clarifying of the current one in the works. Most assignments have a shelf life. They are not meant to go one forever. There’s an endgame involved, and that includes a change. Let’s touch on this one.

God’s Proceeding Word

Matthew 4:4 But He answered and said, It is written, Man shall not live by bread alone, but by every word that proceedeth out of the mouth of God.

Faith is active and fluid. It requires communion with the Lord, and an openness for change. It comes by hearing, and hearing by the Word of God (see Romans 10:17). How we hear may come in a variety of ways: God’s still small voice; a prophetic word from another, to include the word of wisdom and word of knowledge (see 1 Corinthians 12:7-11), or that prompting (unction) one may feel from Holy Spirit.

Of course, He may use other methods to get our attention if we happen to be on the insensitive side. One those ways is where He allows us to feel off in some capacity. It may even seem as if He left us (keyword: seem). He will never leave or forsake us, and so we can confidently say the Lord is my Helper (see Hebrews 13:5-6). However, He may withdraw His presence in the sense that we don’t feel it; or least, not as strongly. It doesn’t mean He abandoned us, though it may seem that way. He does discipline those He loves.

To put it another way: if we’re not listening, His voice may appear to be absent. On a sidenote, He may be waiting for us to fulfill one set of instructions, before giving us another set.

If you feel unsettled, it would be a good time to ask for wisdom and direction, then sit and listen. Moreover, it would be good write down what you hear, and date it. More importantly, obey His voice. Don’t necessarily look for the confirmation, but know He does confirm His Word in a variety of ways. Stay open!

perfectfaith.org

[athyrabunlord]

Sorry for asking but I was wondering if you got my ask about the writing prompts as I noticed that number 8 wasn’t in your list - I know that tumblr sometimes eats them or you could’ve chosen to do a different number instead but I was starting to panic a bit that I would miss out. It was a prompt set in the LLSHP AU where Kanan says to Mari that her smile isn’t as bright as it used to be since she was attacked in hogsmeade. But like I said there were 2 other prompts as well...

Yes I did receive your ask Anon! Sorry I should’ve beenclearer in my posts but, since I’m only doing one prompt for each ship, Ipicked #46 out of the 3 choices you sent. The reasons being, there would bemore kanamari scenes in Arc 3, and also since I won’t be able to write aprequel-interlude any time soon, I’ll use this opportunity to present a sliceof the kanadiamari days prior to the rest joining!

 Thanks for asking about the LLSHP AU stuff though, alwaysmakes me happy to know people enjoying this AU =)

[ladyvesuvia]

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@justadreamyhufflepuff: GSJSVSKSBSJD BABY CONGRATS- CAN I PLEASE GET A 🎠 -> Harry potter + soft love + fluff + prompts 9, 10, 32, 42 from prompt list 1. || for my 300 followers celebration

Prompts:

9. “You took all the pillows so I’m using you as one.”

10. “Stop moving and let me braid your hair.”

32. “Make a wish!”

42. “Darling I love you and all, but please step out of the kitchen.”

Pairing: Harry Potter x Fem!Reader

Summary: Moving into your new house with Harry.

Words: 3.1k

Warnings: fluff but with slight and subtle mentions of sexual activities + let me know if i missed anything!

A/N: omg yay harry fluff :DDD ok sorry go ahead btw this hasn’t been proofread yet mbad

After years of setting things up, they could finally move into their house. Of course, there were some parts of it that still needed fixing but they’ll eventually work it out. Right now, they wanted to bask in the comfort and triumph of their own house.

“Got your key?” said [Y/N], holding out her own key. She had already attached a duck keychain to it.

“Got it,” replied Harry, showing her his own. They both sniggered at his ridiculous bathtub keychain, which looked undeniably out of place but she was glad for it nonetheless. See, she had bought it years ago when they first talked about getting a house. “Will you do the honors?”

“You know, we could easily Alohomora the heck out of this bas —”

“Do the honors,” he teasingly urged, poking her on the waist where her tickle spot was and she recoiled. “Do it, [Y/L/N].”

“Ha! I’m Potter now, too. Ergo you’re not so special anymore,” she said as she marched up the raised porch. It was a lovely sight indeed — she could already imagine inviting the others to come over: roasting marshmallows either here or at the backyard and such. She giddily walked towards the door. This is it, she thought. “Wait, this is unfair. You carry me as you open it so I’ll be like a pretty wife.”

“That you are,” said Harry as he scooped her up into his arms. She let out a whoop of approval, patting his cheek as he put the key in and swung the door open.

All their boxes were on the floor already, with a lot more scattered all over the house. “Ooh, this is a lot of work. Wanna sleep it off?” she yawned, kicking some boxes aside on her way to the stairs. “What, you gonna protest, Mr. Potter?”

“Not at all, Mrs. Potter,” said Harry, and they both stopped and looked at each other, eyes narrowed while scrutinizing the name. “Mrs. Potter.”

“Does it sound a bit weird to you? I mean, no offense. I mean, I’ve waited for this half of my life but — you know?

“Yeah, like, [Y/N] Potter,” he said again, making arm gestures as if parting a curtain. She started to laugh. “I see what you mean.”

“You look like a . . . getching shooba driver but on land,” she said with a yawn.

“A what?” This time, Harry was the one stifling his laughter.

“Glitching scuba diver on land,” spat [Y/N], taking off her jacket. When she saw he’d been eyeing her with a dazed expression on his face, she made a show of getting off her right jacket sleeve with a suggestive smile on her face. “Wait, uh, can’t get it off. Sweat, I think. Help?”

“Will do, will do,” said Harry, approaching her and reaching out to pull it off her with a tight smile in an awful attempt to keep his laughter.

“Whatever. Can we sleep now, please? Where’s our bed again?”

“There,” he pointed somewhere in the kitchen room.

“I thought our room was upstairs?”

“Our room is upstairs, the bed is here.”

“Why would that be the ca—oh, no. D’we really have to assemble it?” she whined. They had to travel by Muggle transportation due to issues with the Floo network and they wanted to minimize suspicion, and the it was finally taking its toll on their entire energy: [Y/N]’s back was cramping from the long ride, Harry’s head was already hurting like hell. To make matters worse, neighbors were peeking through their windows so they had to go inside immediately.

“No, we can just bring the mattress up and assemble it all tomorrow, yeah?”

“Oh, yeah,” she said with a moan, tossing the jacket on the kitchen counter. “Yeah, yeah.”

“Oh, are we — ?” He shrugged hesitantly.

“No! I mean, do you want to? Now?”

“Do you?” The two chuckled nervously. They were standing there for probably around half a minute or one when the doorbell dinged and the two of them jumped. [Y/N] volunteered to get it.

A woman younger than her for about a year stood in front of her doorstep when she swung the door open, carrying a tiny baby probably about a few months old in her arms. [Y/N] managed a friendly smile as she wiped away a drop of sweat from her forehead.

“Hi, welcome to the neighborhood. I’m Karolina Martin. I live right across and I brought you something!”

“The . . . baby?” [Y/N]’s shoulders tensed as she thought about this over an over until she realized that was highly unlikely.

“No! You’re hilarious, though. I like you. I actually came here to give you” — the woman put down a bag she hung over her shoulder down on the floor — “this.”

Inside was a basket with a bottle of what [Y/N] could only assume was fine wine or champagne or whatever it was couples with a number of chocolates and cookies inside. She realized with a start there was also a pot inside.

[Y/N] laughed, holding up the pot. “Funny, because we’re Potters?” she asked, setting it back down again.

“You are?” Karolina said, impressed. “So which do you suggest I should start with first? Stoneware or earthenware? Ooh, what about fire clay?”

It took a few seconds before [Y/N] realized the direction of the conversation. “Oh! Well, heh, not that kind of potter.”

Karolina flinched, eyeing [Y/N] with suspicion. “You smoke — ?”

“No! Not that kind of potter. We don’t smoke po—Sorry, that’s on me, I should have clarified. I’m [Y/N],” she said. Karolina still looked confused. Composing herself, she managed a tight smile. “[Y/N] Potter.”

“Oh! Oh, my goodness. I’m so sorry!” Karolina chuckled. “I was a bit confused, I’m really sorry. I haven’t met someone around here about my age.”

“Don’t worry about it. Thanks for the welcoming gift, by the way. I just moved in with my . . . husband.” It still sounded surreal to call Harry that way, but she liked it all the same. Her eyes fell on the chubby little kid.

“Right! This is baby Sydney, she’s turning six months old next week. Would be really nice if you and your husband could come — and kid or kids, if you have some?” Maybe it was the coos the baby made or her adorable eyes and hints of two teeth growing, but [Y/N] felt intimidated by the little kid. She was bigger than she thought babies would be. Is this what she’d push through her bottom? She shuddered. “Do you . . . want to hold her?” asked Karolina, oblivious to the thoughts going on in [Y/N]’s heads.

“Listen, I’m really grateful you stopped by but we’re kinda tired. I’m so, so, sorry! Thank you a lot for these stuff. We’ll definitely come by next week — me and Harry, just Harry and me.” [Y/N] chuckled nervously again, smiling at the baby.

“I totally understand. Me and Joey were also very tired when we first moved in, hence Sydney.” Karolina laughed. [Y/N] simply chimed in the laughter as well, not wanting to jeopardize a newfound friendship over a joke. “Have a lovely evening, [Y/N]. I’ll see you around!”

When she shut the door with the bag over her shoulder, she jumped in fright at the sight of Harry just behind the door with an amused grin on his face. “What?” said [Y/N] as she rubbed her eyes.

“Husband?” he mused. When she shot him a glare saying not to push it further, he resorted to giggling. “Sorry, my wife.”

“Shut up, Harry,” she said. “Now, where’s that damned mattress?”

“Worry not, I got it upstairs already, all we gotta do now is take a quick shower and go to bed.”

After they finished dressing into more comfortable clothes, they made it a point to plop down as hard as they could on the mattress. To her relief, Harry had settled a plain white bedsheet on top of it earlier while she was talking to Karolina. She was the first to jump in, stretching her legs all over. “Finally!” she exclaimed.

“Your turn,” she said, pointing at a spot right next to her. Harry took off his glasses and was about to jump in next when she asked where the pillows were.

“Er — Accio pillow!” She could hear the sound of boxes moving downstairs bumping each other when a pillow came hurtling in and landed on Harry’s chest, forcing him to plop down on the mattress.

A shrill squeak sounded, and the two of them froze. [Y/N] narrowed her eyes, pointing her finger at him in accusation. “Did you fart?”

“No, we just still haven’t removed the plastic from the mattress.”

“You want to remove it?” she suggested, ready to get up and get her own wand when Harry gently nudged her back down.

“Okay, where’s my wand?“

[Y/N] looked left and right until she found it tying on an old bedside table he managed to set down earlier that day and said, “There! Bedside table.”

“Eh.”

“Agreed, let’s just say you did fart.”

“Agreed,” said Harry, who unconsciously wrapped his legs and arms around the pillow on top of him and closed his eyes to sleep. [Y/N] was quick to act. Not to take his pillow, but to turn him into one — metaphorically, of course. She laughed at the thought of using Transfiguration to turn Harry into a literal pillow.

Just as he wrapped his limbs around the only pillow, [Y/N] did the same to him. He woke up with a jolt, but did not take her off him. “I’m the little spoon?” he asked with a smile.

“Yes, and I happen to like little spoons a lot,” she said casually. Harry turned his head in her direction, with a wide grin on his pretty face. “Okay, that sounded wrong. It’s just that you hogged the only pillow so now I’m using you as one.”

“Well, do you want it?” he offered obliviously.

“Nope, I like this set-up. Go back to sleep.”

And he did — they both did. At some point during the night, they turned each other into a pillow. Harry, however, awoke to the sound of her snoring. It wasn’t like his Uncle Vernon’s, though. Looking at her face seemed to dull it all out. It wasn’t exactly an endearing sound, but the sight of her was more than so — tousled hair, mouth slightly open. . . . With one last smile on his face as he watched her sleep, he felt himself drifting off into a deep slumber.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

A loud clanging from downstairs awoke Harry. Had he overslept? He found that his back ached whenever he did so much as move, but knew better than to bide his time if there was danger nearby. He reached out to the bedside table to grab his wand, but realized he had to put his glasses on first.

Harry ran downstairs, clutching his wand tightly with his outstretched hand as he listened for anything there was to hear. He paused. A stranger walked out of the kitchen, and he pointed his wand at them.

The stranger held their hands up with a bewildered look on their face until [Y/N] came out of the kitchen all sweaty with a frilly apron. “Harry!” she cried in bewilderment at the sight of him pointing his wand at their new neighbor. “Alright, uh, Karolina, this is my husband, Harry; Harry — stop pointing your . . . stick at her — this is our neighbor who lives across from us, Karolina.”

“Er — hello, Karolina. Sorry about the wa—” [Y/N] shot him a dirty look. “—ander. Wander. Sorry about the bad . . . wandering. You know what? I just woke up on the wrong side of bed and I got paranoid with the . . . new house and all.”

“He tends to get jumpy,” said [Y/N] in hopes of wrapping this up immediately. “Anyway, five minutes left till it’s done. Thank you so, so much for the help, Karol! One last thing, for the whipped cream, do I. . .”

He then noticed that some of the furniture were already arranged such as the sofa and the dining table. Some cabinets were decorated with non-magical framed pictures of them. Harry begged to disagree, though. Each picture there was more than just ma— Is that a baby? Sleeping in a car seat on their couch?

Harry blinked. It stirred, eyes fluttering open. Harry was now holding his breath in anticipation. It was watching him curiously. When he did not move, the little thing started to giggle. Smiling sheepishly back, he made a show of raking his hand through his hair and walking into the kitchen.

It was still messy, but the fridge was on now, and some condiments were put where they belonged.

Karolina was washing a bowl on the sink when the baby outside started crying. She washed her hands quick and ran out, excusing herself while smiling apologetically at the two of them.

[Y/N] opened the oven, pulling out something that smelled of a scent that made Harry’s mouth water.

“Is that Treacle Tart?” he blurted out.

[Y/N] almost dropped the pan of delight she held in her mittened hands. She cleared her throat in an attempt to maintain her composure as she set it down on the counter and pulled off her mittens. Still panting, she looked at him and said, “Harry, darling, I love you and all but please step out of the kitchen.”

“Sorry,” he muttered as he pressed a kiss against her head.

“Don’t do that, my hair stinks. I haven’t showered yet,” said [Y/N].

“What do you mean? It smells just fine.”

“Yeah? Well, it’s greasy. Is it greasy?”

“Yeah, you kinda look like Snape from where I’m standing. Ow! Sorry, bad joke. Okay, keep doing what you’re doing while I. . .” he trailed off as he grabbed her wrist gingerly and pulled off the scrunchie off it and started braiding her hair whilst she shook the whipped cream. “Could you just stop moving and let me braid your hair?”

“Oh, shut up! This tart’s for you, anyway.”

“So it is a Treacle Tart?”

“Uh, Doy,” she said mockingly. “It’s for your birthday, genius.”

“But it isn’t till next month,” said Harry.

“Eh, well, thought we could spend some time together in our new house without a crowd for a while. Why’re you even braiding my hair?”

“That baby got me thinking about it,” said Harry, as the child’s sobs started to cease. “You know, like . . . do you think we’re ready?”

“Well, what will be, will be.” She squeezed whipped cream on each side, scanning the final product with narrowed eyes. Harry tied the poorly-done braid with the scrunchie, letting her hair fall down to her back. [Y/N] turned to him. “Honestly, I’m kind of scared about the whole thing, you know? Like, aside from the . . . bloody pushing, it’ll be a huge responsibility. And I want to know if you’re up for it.”

“Okay,” he found himself saying so casually.

“Okay?” [Y/N] repeated to him, with an expression the combination of excitement and disbelief. “Okay as in, ‘okay let’s start trying?’”

“Okay, yes! Let’s start trying now!”

“Okay, but not right now, though,” said [Y/N] under her breath.

“Why not?” he said. Merlin, I have to stop.

“For one, Karolina’s right there at the doorway with Sydney.”

Harry shifted his gaze from [Y/N] to Karolina, who was now trying hard to stifle her laugh with a sleeping Sydney in her arms. “Okay, I’m gonna pretend I didn’t just hear that,” she said with a suggestive smile. “I’ll get going now, [Y/N], Harry.”

“Oh, you won’t try the Treacle Tart out?” called out [Y/N].

“Nah, we’ve eaten a lot of that already. We’re having cheesecake for tonight. Anyway, see you two.” With a friendly wave, she went off her way, leaving the two of them alone in their house.

Harry expected her to berate him, but she was already facing him with a slice of a tart resting neatly on a plate with a lousy candle set in the middle of it. “Make a wish,” she told him.

“Uh. . . I’m bad at wishes, you know that.”

“Then wish to be better at making wishes then make a better wish next month,” she said.

“Okay, I wish to be better at making wishes,” said Harry before blowing the candle out. [Y/N] pulled off the candle and lead him to the living room, where she put down the pan and separated the entire thing to put it on an adorable floral plate she loved.

“Happy super advanced birthday, Just Harry,” said [Y/N], kissing his head this time. “Have some Treacle Tart. I tried, okay?” Laughing, she put a fork on his plate and went to slice one for herself.

“Thank you, soft love,” said Harry as he helped himself to his slice. “Merlin, this is per—”

[Y/N] bursted into laughter, a couple crumbs spitting on the table. She had to get a tissue and wipe the table as she bellowed. “What’d you say?”

“Soft . . . love. Does that mean something bad?”

“No, no, no. It’s just funny to hear it from you. Say it again,” she said, resting her elbow on the top rail of a chair, eager to hear him.

“Soft love?” said Harry hesitantly.

“Oh my— Who told you to say that? Where’d you learn that?” choked [Y/N], wiping tears of laughter from her eyes. “Okay, sorry.”

“Er — you see, before we left to go here, Ron told me to experiment with . . . pet names.”

“So you delivered?”

“Do you not like it?” said Harry, his fork frozen in mid-air.

“Oh, I do. I so do,” she replied, chuckling. “I’ve had enough of tough love, I could use some soft love. But d’you know what it means?”

When Harry shook his head, she took one step forward to run her hand through his hair, grinning. “Means you accept all flaws instead of trying to build up a wall just to better and correct those flaws.”

“Then what’s so funny?” he asked with genuine curiosity rather than annoyance.

“Oh, Harry. Nothing! I just find you trying new stuff very, very amusing. Moving in here was a good choice, you know. Now I get to find out new things about you,” said [Y/N].

Harry smiled back, his cheeks a tad warmer than usual. “So which do you prefer? Tough love or soft love?”

“Eh, a relationship can’t work with just one of the two. Both works. Now eat your slice before we get working on this house,” said [Y/N] as she snapped her fingers, picking up her own plate and savoring her own work. “Chop chop.”

“You mean home?”

“Yep, I mean home,” answered [Y/N] without any hesitation. Oh, and, just one small update: they didn’t remove the plastic wrap of the mattress until next week.

Taglist: @gingerale2017 @maybanksslut @hey-there-angels @mrzweasley @gwlvr @booksarealwaysbettersworlds-blog @greenlyblue @henqtic @meiitanoia @badass-yn @catching-the-train-to-hogwarts

[themaribatpit]

Saturday Challenge: And They Were Roommates

Written by: The Maribat Pit  @jasonette-july-event

Prompt: And They Were Roommates

Rated: T

Tim was surprised to learn that MDC Designs had set up shop in Gotham City of all places.  He was in dire need of a new suit for the Wayne Gala after the last one was sliced to ribbons. The mysterious designer had worked with Jagged Stone when she was just a teenager. Now he was on his way to her home studio across town.  

Tim got out of the car and knocked on the front door of the apartment.  "Just a minute!" A young woman's voice called from the other side of the door.  She rushed over and opened the door to greet him, on the other side of the door was a petite young woman with dark hair and blue eyes.  "Hi, you must be Tim, right?" She asked cheerfully.

"Yeah, are you MDC?" Tim asked, maybe she was their assistant or something.  

To his surprise she nodded, "yes, I am. Those are my initials." she explained.

"I was hoping to commission you for a suit," Tim held up the order confirmation.

"Yes, by all means, come in" she said as she opened the door a little wider to let him in.  Tim looked around the studio as he let himself in, and he found it hard to believe he was still in Gotham.  

There were pink fairy lights hanging on the walls, the furniture was either pastel pink, lilac, and maybe a soft jade green on occasion.  There was a small kitchen in the corner of the studio and a few separate rooms off to the side.  She gestured to the small podium in the middle of the studio.  She had asked Tim to wear simple, basic clothes so that she could take his measurements accurately. Tim took off his shoes and made his way over.

"So, why Gotham?" Tim asked, trying to make some conversation with the young designer taking his measurements.  "Not that I'm complaining just that..." he assured her.

"It's fine," she said, "I came here because I thought," Marinette tried to choose her next words carefully.  "I thought maybe I could bring some light into Gotham City, it's just so different from what I'm used to growing up." She explained, "Sometimes it's so different that it inspires me... creatively, I mean."

"Braver men have tried to do just that." Tim thought.  "So uh, Miss..." Tim stumbled on the young woman's name.

"Just Marinette is fine," she said, smiling up at him.  He honestly wasn't expecting her to be so... friendly, especially someone who had been living in Gotham for any length of time.

"Can you finish the suit by the end of the month?" Tim asked.

"Won’t be a problem, I'd say it’ll be done maybe two weeks from now," Marinette told him.

He heard the door open behind him but couldn't turn around and see who it was. Not unless he wanted to annoy the person taking a tape measure to him. They were probably a roommate or someone, this was clearly a studio that someone lived in. Maybe they had a roommate or there was another artist who was living here. That was until Tim heard the other person speak.

"Hey Pixie, need anything while I'm out?" a voice asked, one that was too familiar to Tim.  He whipped his head around to find...

"Jason?!"

"Replacement?!"

"What's he doing here?!" The two of them asked in unison.

Marinette gave Jason a confused look, "Wait, he's 'Replacement'?"

"Dude, that's what MDC knows me as?" Tim seemed more annoyed at Jason than at Marinette.  "Also what are you doing here?" He asked, while Jason looked through the fridge for something that wasn't either sweet or an expensive wheel of cheese.

"I live here." Jason deadpanned, grabbing a soda can from the fridge.

As Jason was looking through the fridge, Tim whispered to Marinette. “I’d move out if I were you, Jason’s dangerous.”

Just as Tim finishes whispering to Marinette, Jason yells “I can hear you asshole!”

Marinette frowned at Tim’s advice, “I know he’s the Red Hood. We’ve been living together for a while.”

Tim’s eyes widen, he looks back at Jason to see him walking back towards the living room. “You told her?” he cries incredulously.

Jason takes a large gulp of soda before answering, “I kinda came back injured.”

Marinette interrupted. “You still owe me a bolt of silk.”

Jason continued, ignoring Marinette’s interruption. “I kinda bled all over her stuff.” Then taking another swig of his soda.

Tim tentatively asks “So, uh, how did you two become roommates?”

“Rent in Gotham is stupid expensive, it takes two people’s income to pay for rent and utilities.” Marinette huffed.

“Yeah Timmy, not everyone can afford to live the high life at Wayne Manor” Jason said.

“Jason, if I lose customers because of you, this tape measure is going to have a very tight fit around your neck” Marinette hissed, before giving Tim an apologetic smile.

Tim groans and rubs his own forehead, “Okay fine, but what about you Jason? I doubt money was the issue.” he asked.

Jason shrugs, “Do you honestly think anyone would go looking for the Red Hood in a bright pink fashion studio?”

“Point taken” agreed Tim. Marinette resumes measuring him, moving on to measure his waist.

“Whoa Replacement, have you gained weight? No wonder you need a new suit.” joked Jason.

Marinette shot a glare at Jason, “All right that’s enough, don’t you need to be somewhere?”

Jason tosses his empty soda can into the bin all while chuckling at himself, “All right fine, need anything while I’m out?”

Marinette ponders for a second, “Chicken and wine, I’ll make Coq au vin tonight.”

Jason smirks, “Sure I’ll head to the grocery store to and ask for cock and wine” laughing like a maniac before leaving.

Tim releases a breath that he has been holding, “finally some peace and quiet.”

“Sorry, he’s usually out or reading quietly in the corner when other customers are here.” Marinette assured him.

“We’re brothers, trust me this is us being friendly.” He told her.

“Brothers?” Marinette asked, she would have thought that meant they had the same surnames.

“Adopted brothers. ” Tim clarified, Marinette nodded her head as she gathered up her sewing supplies.  

“I see” Marinette replied, she looked over at Tim as he stepped down from the podium.  “Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me.  I’ll have your suit ready in time for the Wayne Gala.” she said as she stowed her supplies away.  

BONUS

Bonus 1:

The next time Red Hood and Red Robin run into each other.

Jason: You need to lay off Alfred's baking, or you might need a new Robin suit soon.

Tim: Why? Are you gonna bleed all over this one too?

Bonus 2:

Ladybug climbs in through the window late one night, Jason dramatically flicks on a lamp.

Red Hood: Well well well, it seems you have some explaining to do young lady.

[cherryskyies]

hey!! i love your work so much! i was wondering if i could request a hisoka x fem!reader one shot where they are friends with benefits but he walks in on her cuddling someone else after sex and realizes he wants more. i would love for either prompts 1, 12, or 25 to be used, but i’ll leave it up to you and the direction you want to take it in! (to clarify, the reader is not cheating on him, they are both allowed to see whoever they want!) thank you so much and hope you are doing well <3

Mine

Thank you for the request, and I'm happy you enjoy my work!!

I apologize for the slight wait, I was stuck on the last half of it.

#1: “I never thought I’d be jealous over something like that.”

Warnings: mentions of sex, swearing, some toxic behavior, I didn't edit thoroughly (sorry)

Prompt from this prompt list

Main Masterlist

You knew it was wrong, leading your friend on like this, but you couldn't help it.

Hisoka had popped up, had his way with you, and left, not even bothering to help you clean up. It hurt your feelings to say the least.

It's not exactly ideal, being Hisoka's fuck toy. 

So when he leaves, not uttering a single goodbye or acknowledging your existence, you feel empty and you want to be held.

Which is why your friend is currently on your couch cuddled up next to you.

"I don't get why you keep seeing him," Lorenzo said, raking his fingers through your hair.

It was no secret that Lorenzo was in love with you, he has said it himself. He was willing to drop everything to be by your side.

"I lo-," you stopped yourself mid sentence, deciding it would be best to not tell your friend you were in love with the magician. "I like the sex."

Lorenzo rolled his eyes, not understanding how you are willing to hurt yourself because 'the sex is good.'

"I'm sure there are others who can fuck as good as him, stop hurting yourself for stupid reasons."

You buried your face in his leg, wishing it was as simple as that, "You wouldn't understand."

It's true, how could he understand a situation you haven't told the truth about? Sure, it's selfish of you to use Lorenzo like this, but you couldn't help it.

"I wouldn't understand?" He repeated, laughing. "Please tell me you are being sarcastic."

Confused, you looked at him, "What?"

His face fell, the smile replaced with a frown, "You can't be serious right now."

"Lorenzo, seriou-"

"I've literally been in love with you for 3 years," he said, staring down at you. "You know how long that is? How many nights I have spent awake, listening to you cry about the same man?"

You frowned, the guilt weighing you down, "I didn't ask you to fall in love with me."

"And I didn't ask to be your emotional support boy toy, but look at me now." 

Sighing, you sat up and pulled him into a hug, one which you were sure he'd reject, but when he didn't you held him tighter.

"I'm sorry, truly, and I do love you," you said, pulling back from the embrace. 

Lorenzo nodded, understanding what you meant when you told him you love him.

"You just don't love me the way I love you."

A clapping noise caught you off guard, causing you to jump and Lorenzo to hold you close to him.

"That is correct. (y/n) does not, and will never, love you," Hisoka said, stepping into the living room. 

There was slight blood lust radiating off of him, enough to make Lorenzo tense and you uncomfortable. 

Hisoka glared at Lorenzo, unhappy that the man was touching you in ways only he was allowed to.

"Leave."

It didn't take more than that for Lorenzo to shoot out of your house, Hisoka's glare following him every step of the way.

You stood up, angry with the way Hisoka was acting, "What the fuck?"

His eyes were on you, the glare still present.

"You're mine, so why the hell was another man touching what's mine? Care to tell me why?"

Confused, you shook your head, "I am not yours." 

You wish you were, though.

Hisoka walked over to you, gently pushing you onto the couch, "Remember earlier, I asked you, 'Whose needy little slut are you?' and you answered, 'Yours,' you remember that, right?"

"Yes, but tha-"

His hands were already under your shirt, "I never thought I'd be jealous over something like that," Hisoka said, talking over you as he unclasped your bra.

"Go ahead, finish your sentence, darling," he said, his hands slipping down to your jeans, working on undoing them.

A shaky breath left your lips, both aroused and annoyed with the man in front of you, "That shouldn't mean anything, we are just friends."

"Friends don't know the way you taste."

He was right, friends do not know the way you taste, and they sure as hell don't fuck every night.

You rolled your eyes, "friends with benefits then."

Hisoka paused, his lips lingering on your neck for a moment, "What if I want more than a friends with benefits deal."

'Is he being serious?' You honestly could not tell, but either way you agreed.

You pulled yourself out from under him, halting his movements, "Now is not the time for jokes, Hisoka."

"I'm not joking, (y/n)," he responded, looking you straight in the eyes. "If I had to spend the rest of my life with one person, I'd pick you."

"But-"

Hisoka sighed, pushing himself off the couch so he could stand, "If you're going to reject me, let it be known that we won't stop fucking, unless you want to stop, but I'm sure that's not a thought that has ever crossed your mind."

"I'm not rejecting you," really, you aren't sure what you are doing. The man you've been in love with for years is admitting his love for you, so why aren't you jumping for joy?

"Then what are you doing, because you aren't reciprocating these feelings either."

Hisoka wasn't one to be nervous, like ever, but right now he was sure his cause of death would be a heart attack.

"Don't get me wrong, I've been in love with you for years, I'm just a little shocked is all," you explained, watching Hisoka perk up.

"So," you started, twiddling your fingers awkwardly, "What does this make us?"

Hisoka shrugged, "Well, we can either continue as fuck buddies or we can date."

You nodded, "As much as I love being your fuck buddy, I think I'd like to be your girlfriend as well."

"I was hoping you'd say that."

[rollercoasterwrite]

I’M SO CURIOUS [CHAPTER 6]

CHAPTER 1 CHAPTER 2 CHAPTER 3 CHAPTER 4 CHAPTER 5

Prompt : Jjong is a college student with tight money, but manages to get into a prestigious uni where he becomes friends with Taemin. One day, Tae asks him to go out on a blind date with his cousin Jinki, a notable lawyer who still hesitates about dating someone. Jjong refuses, but the amount of money Tae offers is a sight he can’t ignore. Jinki adores him immediately and after several dates, Jonghyun falls in love with Jinki, but he doesn’t know how to tell Jinki about his agreement with Tae.

Chapter title : Lonely.

Pairing : Jongyu 

Genre : romance, fluff, angst, smut

***TW for this chapter*** some abusive exchanges

Word Count : 8000 words approx.

Links : AFF & AO3

Special thanks to Cheryl, my beta once again!!!

The room was plunged into a dead silence, the only sound cutting through the quietness being the rhythmic ticking of the clock hanging over the closed door. Its two hands were showing that it was close to 9 pm. Normally, no one would be there to witness when it reached this hour of the night, but over the past few weeks, this hadn’t been the case. Someone had been there without fault every night working until he couldn’t anymore.  

There was something about the calm and peace that engulfed everything around this time. He could pretend he was alone in the world and that nothing could get to him. This illusion had been his biggest comfort lately and he wasn’t ready to let it go, even if the dark circles under his eyes were telling another story. 

He was overworked, he was exhausted, but that’s the only way he knew how to survive. When everything else failed, work was always there to keep him company and give him a semblance of purpose. 

His eyes settled back onto the papers in front of him, looking for the best courses of action to tackle his newest case. This one was going to be tricky. Mergers were never simple. There were tons of negotiations and compromises to be made on each part to insure the best transition possible towards the new entity. The demands came easy, but never what each part was ready to let go to make things work. 

Change is hard, he thought with a sigh, before flipping on to the next page of his growing file. 

Before he could start reading again, a knock on the door interrupted him. He lifted a brow, puzzled.   

"Yes?" he answered from his desk. 

The knob turned and the door cracked open, revealing his best friend. He sunk back into his chair, relieved.  But that relief was short-lived as he caught a glimpse of his friend’s expression. 

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

The tall one crossed his arms over his chest, effectively emphasizing his disapproval. 

"Jinki, that’s enough," Minho finally said, making the other’s brows furrow from confusion. 

"What are you talking about?"

"You working that late every night," the younger one clarified. "I let it go thinking that it was only temporary, but clearly, this has become a bad habit and I can’t let you go on like this."

Jinki let out a long-drawn-out sigh as he rocked back into his cushioned chair. 

“I understand your concern, but I assure you that I’m fine. I just have lots of new cases I need to work on."

"Yeah, because you decided to take on more than you could handle," Minho reproved. 

"I can handle them just fine. Do you hear me complaining?"

"You never complain, Jinki. Doesn’t make it okay," his friend pointed out with the stubborn resolve he regularly displayed towards him. 

Sometimes, Jinki was grateful for it, but other times, like right now, he wished the other would just leave him be. He was a grown adult. And that meant that he was the sole person responsible for whatever decision he made. Even the senseless ones.

"Minho, go home," he gently ordered. "I’ll be done soon," he reassured before his gaze flicked down to his papers once again. 

For a moment there, Jinki had been hopeful Minho would comply and leave him to his work, but that hope was soon shattered as the taller one walked over to his desk and took the file away from him. 

"No, we are going home," the latter countered before opening the closest filing cabinet and sliding the file in. 

"That’s not where it goes," the one sitting directed. 

"I couldn’t give a rat’s ass about where that file goes," Minho snapped as he turned around to look him straight in the eye. "Work is over and you are going to get some rest now," he instructed with an authority that Jinki was more than familiar with. 

The latter knew there was no arguing when his friend used that tone. Minho would always be more stubborn about getting the last word than he would ever be. 

"Okay, Chief,” he conceded with another sigh before getting up from the chair that had seen him through most hours of the week. 

He slid his blazer on and grabbed the few things he needed, watching Minho staring at him from the corner of his eye. 

"Do I have something on my face?" he inquired as he slid his car keys in his pants’ right pocket. 

"You lost weight," Minho didn’t hesitate to say. 

That made Jinki smile. 

"Well, I’ll take that as a compliment. Thank you."

"It’s not," the other objected. "It means you’re not eating enough."

"I mean a few pounds off my bones won’t hurt," Jinki lightly dismissed. ‘’I had to lose some weight, anyway.” 

"No," Minho interjected again. "You didn’t have to lose weight. And even if you wanted to, that’s not the way to go about it," he went on in a disapproving tone.

"You need to take care of yourself, Jinki," he reiterated as the disapproval morphed into worry once more. 

That effectively put an end to the conversation. Jinki couldn’t argue with that. He knew Minho was right. He knew he wasn’t healthy in every sense of the word. The problem was, a big part of him didn’t care that he wasn’t. He didn’t see the point. He would build himself back up and then what? Something else would come along to crush him to pieces? 

He was so tired of fighting for his happiness. Maybe that wasn’t something he could ever get. Maybe his life was meant to be as plain as possible and dreaming for more was just pure madness. 

As he settled into Minho’s car after the latter won the debate about which car they would take, Jinki took out his phone to check if he had any missed calls or messages. 

“You’d better not be checking anything related to work," Minho warned as he started the engine. 

"I won’t answer, I promise."

Jinki looked at his screen and saw he had missed a call. When he clicked on the notification and saw who it was, his heart stopped. 

He immediately slapped his phone face down onto his thigh as he tried to will his heart back into a normal rhythm. Without realizing, he had closed his eyes to breathe through his internal ordeal, making his friend steal worried glances his way every few seconds. 

"Jinki?" the one driving finally called out as he brought the car to a smooth halt at a red light. 

The sound of his friend’s voice startled him, his eyes shooting open instantly. 

"Yeah?" he replied, trying to gather his thoughts back into an organized puzzle. 

"What’s going on?" the younger one pressed. "Is a client stressing you out?"

A client… I wish.

"Um, no… I just… Um…" 

Thanks for nothing, brain, he mentally kicked himself as it kept drawing blanks. 

"Is it who I think it is?" Minho asked as his eyes focused back on the road. 

Brain, you can still help me lie about this. Come on! 

His desperate request amounted to nothing more than an increase in his unease. He sighed, abdicating to the truth. 

"Yes," he finally uttered as his gaze shifted to the window where his eyes could focus on the landscape that was running past them. 

"Oh fuck," Minho let out loudly, eyes growing wide. "What’d he say?"

Jinki felt his jaw tense up. 

"I don’t know, it’s a voicemail…"

"Oh…" the other expressed in a much softer tone. "What are you going to do?" he then asked, treading carefully. 

Jinki let out a longer sigh, feeling his whole body abandon itself to the crushing feelings that had been looming over him for weeks now. 

"I don’t know, Minho…" he managed to utter under his breath. He bit on his lip as he felt it quiver. "I just…" he started again before realizing his throat was closing on him. 

Fortunately, Minho knew him like the back of his hand. 

"No need to talk about it right now, Jinki," he reassured. "We’ll get you home so you can eat, drink something warm, and rest."

Jinki nodded, knowing he wasn’t in his right mind to make any kind of decision at this very moment. 

As they finally made their way up to their loft a while later, Jinki felt his phone buzzing in his pocket. He cocked a brow as he felt it, trying to figure out when he had taken it out of its silent mode. As it buzzed again, he pulled it out, walking closely behind Minho as they stepped out of the elevator. 

It was an incoming call… 

It was him… His heart skipped a beat. Again….

Feeling anger fight its way through his turmoil, he picked up on impulse.

"What?" he harshly answered, forgetting himself. 

There was a pause, a brief window of silence. 

"Jinki…" 

And just like that, the voice he knew too well, but had tried his best to forget, came through on the other side. 

His grip tightened around the device at this ear, his knuckles turning white. 

"Why are you calling me?" he said through gritted teeth. 

Another pause. 

"I… was wondering when you were getting back, I-"

"Why’d you want to know that?" he sharply interjected, feeling the seams of his control rip apart thread by thread. He felt Minho’s gaze on him as he matched his pace, eager to reach his safe haven. 

But before he could do so or get an answer from the other, he came to a halt mid-way through the hallway, his arm dropping to its side as he saw what, or rather who, was waiting a few meters ahead.   

Everything suddenly seemed to come to a full stop. They all froze into place simultaneously, bracing for what was to follow. Jinki was in the middle of it all, caught between a worried gaze and a troubled one. He suddenly couldn’t feel his body, couldn’t even see clearly. Nothing was making sense anymore, throwing him into a panic that felt foreign, but all too familiar at the same time.

A steady hand squeezed his shoulder before lips grazed his ear. 

"If you want me to get rid of him, just say the word."

The words were clear, but his feelings towards them not so much. He felt torn between his lingering anger and his desire for closure. 

"Ming?" he quietly said, gaze still fixed ahead.

"Yes?" the other replied, staying close.

"What should I do?" he found himself asking as the internal battle continued inside him. 

The taller one sighed. 

“I can’t choose for you… But if you don’t feel like you can deal with this right now-"

"I don’t think I can deal with this at any time," he cut in, distressed. 

"So I’ll tell him to go then," Minho settled before moving.

But before he could continue on forward, Jinki grabbed his arm. 

"Wait."

Minho looked back at him, confused. 

"I’ll… I’ll deal with him," Jinki said, mustering up all the courage he had in him in that moment. 

Minho frowned, concerned. 

"You sure?"

"Yes, yes," Jinki quickly dismissed. "Can you, uh…"

"Want me to leave you guys alone?" the other guessed. 

Jinki nodded, gaze lowering to his feet as his request weighed on him. 

"Okay," Minho immediately agreed, as if it were nothing. "How long do you need?"

"Not long, I suppose… Like twenty minutes?" Jinki offered for good measure. 

"Okay." Minho turned fully towards him before adding in a low voice, "Don’t let him fuck you over, yeah?"

Jinki’s gaze met his and he nodded, grateful for the reminder. 

Soon after, his friend’s footsteps echoed down the hallway, gradually fading in sound before they turned silent. Now, he was truly on his own and that thought was terrifying. Yes, he was angry, yes, he knew what was best for him, but he was also feeling very vulnerable and hurt and those two things made for a very dangerous cocktail if not kept in check. 

Despite these thoughts, he willed himself into action and took step after step, closing the gap between them in a matter of seconds. If he had felt himself falter before, it was nothing compared to what he was feeling now. Gazing up close into those hazel eyes was like jumping headfirst into hot lava. It was threatening to burn him down to the core. 

And somehow, he could feel that it was a shared feeling as the one looking back at him started wiping his hands over his loose-fitted black joggers. It prompted a quick assessment of the other’s attire, feeling a flutter in his chest at the matching all-black attire, complete with his favored black Timbs. The younger one’s blonde hair looked as fluffy as ever and Jinki found himself wanting to run his fingers through it. 

Stop, he silently reminded himself, before fishing for his keys inside his pocket. Without a word, he led them inside, both pausing silently to remove their shoes.

"Do you want something to drink?" he instinctively asked as he made his way to the fridge.

"Um, no… thank you," the blonde replied, uneasy. 

"It’s no problem, really," Jinki said as he opened the fridge’s door. 

"I’m fine, thank you," the other reiterated. 

"Okay," he acknowledged before pulling out a can of beer for himself.

He definitely needed some liquid courage. 

He then made his way back to the lobby and gestured for Jonghyun to sit down with him in the living room. They naturally sat on either side of the center table, facing each other while keeping a comfortable distance. 

Now that they were in each other’s presence again, everything felt surreal. It felt like they were stuck in a plane of existence that wasn’t actually real. Jinki didn’t want to say it felt like a dream, but that was the closest way he could describe it. There was a part of him that just wanted to jump the gun and let loose while an equally strong part of him wanted to keep everything locked in. 

After all, Jonghyun had come to him and even left him a message prior to that, so it was probably best he let him say his peace before deciding on his best course of action. With that settled, he relaxed into the armchair and took a long sip from his beer. 

He watched as Jonghyun was almost folded in two before him, forearms resting on his thighs as he stared down at the nervous dance his hands were conducting on their own. 

Jinki felt impatient for him to break the ice, but he bided his time, willing himself to keep silent. 

After a few long seconds, Jonghyun straightened up and cleared his throat. 

"Did you listen to my message?" he asked in a quiet voice. 

The brunette shook his head. 

"No, I just saw it not long ago as we were coming back," he explained.

"Oh…" Jonghyun’s hand followed suit to rub the back of his neck, a gesture Jinki had grown accustomed to seeing whenever he was trying to soothe himself. 

"Don’t… um… you can delete that," he then said. 

Jinki frowned.

"Why?"

"It’s a bunch of nonsense… I didn’t think, I just, I left it impulsively and that’s why I came here actually, " he cleared up through his rambling before diving right back in. "I figured it would be easier to explain everything to you face to face, even though I wasn’t sure if you’d even talk to me."

"Well, I’m very interested in knowing more about whatever nonsense you left on my phone," the brunette persisted as his gaze zeroed in on the reddening cheeks of his ex-lover. 

Jonghyun’s head dropped down again, eyes stilling onto the space between his feet. 

"It’s mostly just me crying and sniffling… " he paused, swallowing down the lump that was forming in his throat. "And begging," he added in a voice close to a whisper. 

"Begging?" the older one echoed, frowning. 

The blonde nodded, still not looking up. 

"Yeah, I was desperate…"

Jinki kept looking at him, confused. 

"Desperate for what? More money?" he blurted out. 

The grimace he caught on the other’s face before he dared look up at him again was enough to tell him that the words he had chosen had stung like he had wanted them to. 

"Do you really think that’s why I’m here?” 

The response was filled with hurt, but Jinki wasn’t without noticing the undercurrent of anger in his tone. 

"I don’t know, you tell me," he threw back at him before taking another swig from his can. 

"You know that’s not why I’m here," Jonghyun fought back. "That was never why I kept things going with you," he reiterated as his voice grew coarser. 

"And why should I believe you? Just ‘cause you say so?" Jinki taunted, words dripping with contempt.

Jonghyun sighed to give himself a breather, letting his back rest against the soft cushion of the couch. 

"That’s what I thought," Jinki said as he took the sudden silence as confirmation of his words. 

"Can you just… give me a second?" the blonde requested, closing his eyes to think. 

"Why? So you can build up more lies?" the older one kept on, relentless. 

He wasn’t up to playing games. He wasn’t up to be fooled again. He was tired. 

"No," Jonghyun immediately countered, keeping his mounting frustration in check. 

"Why did you come here, really?" Jinki threw right back at him, straightening up in his seat. 

The silence that followed and the helpless look the other gave him told him he had won this round. 

"Ah," Jinki expressed in realization before delivering his next hit. "Did you come here to get your money’s worth?"

The blonde frowned, half-offended, half-confused. 

"What?"

"You were probably expecting sex after having put all that hard work into this charade," he coldly laid out as he fully unleashed all the resentment he had keep inside these past few weeks. 

Oh, and how much damage that did. Whatever composure Jonghyun had managed to keep instantly crumbled in front of him. Jinki’s emotionless gaze maintained the other’s devastated one, partly enjoying the power he was having right this moment. 

The other part of him knew it was a matter of time before the overbearing weight of guilt would come crashing down on him, leaving him breathless. Nonetheless, he didn’t want to regret his words. Not when he had been flip flopping all this time in between believing what they had was real or it being the product of a well-crafted scheme. 

Jinki wanted to be trusting, but he still had enough self-preservation instincts to know he couldn’t just give out that trust over and over again without any regard towards his well-being. 

"Jinki," the blonde managed to croak out between quivering lips. 

Jonghyun’s vision blurred despite himself, but he felt resolved to say what he had been wanting to say ever since their last encounter, ever since the moment they had last seen each other. 

"I love you," he finally let out, the words knocking the breath out of him for a split second before tears rolled down his cheeks and painful sobs rose from his chest. 

This was not how he had wanted to confess, but it felt like there was nothing else he could say, nothing else that mattered. 

Jonghyun couldn’t see the other’s reaction, too busy wiping the tears out of his eyes and off of his face and trying to get himself together again. He couldn’t see how Jinki’s eyes widened and how his body froze as soon as those three words hit the air between them. He couldn’t see how Jinki’s mouth fell open and how his chest heaved as the words wrecked his synapses, taking over the control board in his brain. 

Nothing could’ve prepared him for that. All the confidence he had mustered as he delivered blow after blow dissolved, leaving him stunned, almost knocked out. 

He might’ve won the battle, but Jonghyun was threatening to win the war. He couldn’t have that. 

"You love me?" Jinki echoed, making sure his tone was derisive and taunting. 

Yeah, he really couldn’t have that. 

But that didn’t seem to deter the one who had just bared his heart in front of him.  

"Yes, I do, Jinki," he reiterated. 

Finally being able to stare at him again, he repeated, "I love you. I love you so much, Jinki." 

Jonghyun’s voice dripped with desperation, and he knew it, but he didn’t care anymore. He wasn’t going to have another chance at this, he knew it. 

The older one’s lips thinned as his jaw clenched, trying to keep his guard up, still. He needed a moment to think, he needed a moment to figure out his next move, because clearly, Jonghyun wasn’t going to hold back anymore. 

And that was scaring the shit out of him. He could be tough and mean all he wanted, but under his hard armour, was an utterly vulnerable and needy human being. 

Not being able to find his words yet, he resumed his drinking, finishing up all the beer left in his now dented can. It had turned lukewarm inside the warmth of his hand, but nonetheless, the break it provided was quite appreciated. 

Once he was done, he set the can down by his feet, before getting up. 

"Where are you going?" Jonghyun asked from his seat, panicked. 

"Need another beer," Jinki mumbled under his breath before walking back towards the fridge. 

He welcomed the fresh air that hit his face as he opened the stainless-steel door in search of more liquid courage. But before he could grab another can, a hand met the middle of his upper back, startling him. 

He turned back around to see Jonghyun standing right in front of him, so close to him…

"What are you doing?" the taller one blurted out as he looked into determined hazel eyes. 

Jonghyun gnawed at his bottom lip, actually showing some hesitation, before pushing the fridge’s door closed with his hand. 

"I want to know how you feel," he answered as he searched his ex’s face for any clues. 

"How I feel about what?" Jinki feigned, in a poor attempt to buy himself some time. 

That made the blonde scoff. 

"I guess you have to be difficult about it."

That made the brunette mad. 

"You think I’m being difficult?" he exploded. "Did you really think that after only a month I would forget what you did to me? Did you really think it would be as easy as you just showing up, saying I love you, and then I would just forgive you and take you back?"

"No, Jinki, I-"

"I fucking hate you," he interrupted as his body quaked with rage. 

This was not like him. This was not like him at all. Yes, he could get mad, but no one had ever made him lose his mind so much before. He truly hated how this man could completely throw him off in a matter of seconds. His fists clenched by his side as he breathed heavily, waiting. 

Jonghyun blinked at him, taken aback. It took him a few seconds before he seemed to come back to himself. 

"You have every right to hate me," he acknowledged, keeping his voice soft to not add to the fire that was menacing to engulf everything. "I knew you would… I know you do," he went on, voice close to a whisper. "But it doesn’t change how I feel about you and what I am willing to do to be with you, even if it means waiting for however long," he added before stepping back to give the other more space. "I am sorry I just showed up like this and ruined your night," Jonghyun then said, feeling remorseful. "I won’t contact you until you are ready to tell me what you want… even if it is that you never want to see me again."

He then started turning to leave, but a firm grip on his arm had him spinning around and before he knew it, his back was against the cold stainless-steel door.

"You’re a piece of shit, you know that?" the taller one spat at him as his two hands settled at each side of the blonde’s head, trapping him. 

The latter just gulped, scared, hurt, and confused. 

"You really just came here to fuck with my head again and make me doubt everything, huh?" Jinki kept on, needing to let the venom spill out of him before it could kill him. 

He was looking down on the smaller man like prey, ready to rip him apart any moment now. 

"Jinki…" Jonghyun breathed out. "I am not messing with you, I never was," he once again stated, before adding, "I know the premise of us meeting shatters all my credibility, but what I have felt for you from the start has all been real."

When Jinki stayed silent, he took this as permission to go on. 

"And I’m really sorry I agreed to take that money. I should’ve never done that, that was fucking stupid and selfish."

"It was," the brunette immediately agreed. 

Jonghyun looked down at that, hit with even more guilt under the accusing eyes of his ex-boyfriend. But he couldn’t hide long. 

The older one pushed his chin up with a finger, locking their gazes together once more. Jonghyun waited for him to speak, to keep on raging, but nothing came. And before he could say anything, soft plush lips brushed against his, making him shiver. 

He gave an expectant look to those luscious lips, but before he could taste them, they travelled to one side of his face, connecting with his ear. 

"You drive me fucking crazy, you know that?"

Jonghyun felt his heart skip at that, his body inflaming with desire. 

"Jinki," he softly whined. 

This was so much and so little at the same time, but Jonghyun didn’t know what he could or couldn’t do at that moment. He could just keep still, anticipating. 

It felt like time was standing still, waiting for either of them to move before retrieving its course. Which didn’t take too long once Jinki grew more and more impatient. His lips travelled down to the blonde’s neck, leaving a trail of feather-like kisses, knowing how much he loved that. 

"Fuck," Jonghyun let out under his breath, biting on his lip right after to keep himself from whimpering. 

Jinki felt prideful of the effect he was having on the man who had hurt him so much, but who he desired nonetheless. He stopped his teasing ministrations to look at him again, allowing himself to admire his flushed face and glossy gaze. 

Something dark, something visceral coiled inside him and he suddenly wanted nothing more than to ruin the blonde completely.

"Bedroom," he growled before dragging the other with him towards said place. 

Something in the back of the other’s mind told him this wasn’t a good idea, but who was he to refuse Jinki after everything he had made him go through?

So he just followed and didn’t say a word when he was thrown onto the bed and was towered over immediately by the other’s heavier body. He felt a shiver run down his spine as he caught the brunette’s predatory gaze, all signs of the Jinki he knew, gone. 

A faint alarm sounded in his mind again and he couldn’t help but listen to it. 

"Jinki, maybe we shouldn’t-"

He was silenced by a brutal kiss, that was more teeth than lips, a stark contrast to the always gentle even when passionate kisses he was accustomed to. When he felt the other’s tongue forcefully roam inside his mouth as he pinned his wrists to the mattress, Jonghyun knew this wasn’t how this was supposed to go. 

He wanted Jinki to love him back, not use him and then discard him. 

"Jinki, stop," Jonghyun pleaded as the other pulled back to catch his breath. 

The brunette cocked a brow before snickering when the blonde’s serious expression remained unchanged. 

"What? Don’t want me to fuck you?" he mocked as he let go of the other’s wrists. 

"I don’t want that, not like this," Jonghyun said, pushing on Jinki’s chest to signal him to move off him. 

But Jinki didn’t move. 

"Oh, suddenly you’re a fucking prude, huh?" Jinki belittled in contempt. "You wanted me to fuck your brains out on the first date, but now you don’t want it?" he remarked snidely. 

It took everything for Jonghyun not to lose his temper and slap him right then and there, but he knew that was what Jinki was looking for. For him to further prove himself to be the asshole Jinki thought he was. 

He wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction. 

"No, I don’t want it," Jonghyun confirmed, voice steady and resolute. "I don’t want you to hate-fuck me. If we are ever in bed again together, I want us to have sex because we love each other."

"Aaaw," Jinki voiced sarcastically. "How fucking romantic… the whore who got paid to go out with me is now looking for true love. That’s really cute."

Jonghyun’s hand flew before his mind could stop him. He felt the sting of his slap thrumming through his palm as he watched the brunette retract in shock. 

Now that there was more space between them, reality seemed to sink in for both of them and it wasn’t pretty. 

"Jinki, I’m so sorry," Jonghyun started, eyes widening as he sat up on the bed.  

The brunette rubbed the side of his face, trying to get a hold of the situation. He suddenly realized what he had just said and what he had been about to do and it made him sick to his stomach. 

"No," he interjected. "I’m sorry, Jjong," Jinki said, shame washing over him. 

They just stared at each other, feeling awful for what had just transpired. 

"I think I should go…" Jonghyun finally said, cutting through the painful silence. 

Jinki just nodded, not knowing what else he could say. Part of him wanted to ask him to stay, but the rational part of him knew the best thing they needed right now was space. 

Nonetheless, Jinki didn’t want to leave it that way. He wanted to at least show that he wasn’t a heartless monster. So before Jonghyun could make it past the doorframe, he hugged him from behind, closing his eyes as the other’s body warmth settled his heart a bit. 

"Let’s talk at another time, yeah?" he carefully asked against him.

"Yeah, sure," Jonghyun accepted as he relaxed in his arms. 

After a few more seconds of shared silence, this one much more comfortable, Jinki let go of him, not without some regret. 

Jonghyun wanted to look back, but he didn’t, knowing he might lose it again. 

So he left the room, breaking away, despite the pain he felt doing so. 

Jinki watched him leave until he couldn’t see him anymore before slumping down back onto his bed, choking up on sudden tears. 

I love you, too, Jonghyun, I do, he silently admitted to the now empty room. 

I knew way before we met…

***

     6 months earlier

    (3 months before they met)

Jinki knew the obsession was starting to get unhealthy, but he couldn’t help himself. As he set the broom to rest against the counter, he looked through his phone for the song he hadn’t been able to get out of his head. It had taken some arguing and pleading with Taemin to get a hold of it, but now that he had it on his phone, there was no looking back. 

Soon enough, the first haunting notes of piano started playing on their wireless sound system, filling the empty loft with grief and sorrow. This was probably not the best song to listen to while doing some Sunday cleaning, but there was nothing else he wanted to listen to right now. Ever since, he had heard his voice, it felt like something had changed in him. It felt like he had found a part of himself again. 

Dust flew across the wooden floor to collect into a neat pile at the center of the living room as he pondered the words that were so beautifully sung. 

My reflection inside the closing elevator

Looks miserable

But still, I live on…

That was the bit that hit the hardest. It felt like the one singing had found the words he often failed to find to express how he felt about his life. To the outside world, Jinki was well accomplished. He was a successful corporate lawyer at a young age, he lived in a prized part of the city and owned a luxurious car and fancy suits. 

But Jinki had never cared about how he looked to the outside world. He had only cared about pleasing his parents first and foremost, but it seemed like nothing he did was ever enough for them. They never really acknowledged the life he had built for himself, the only words rolling out of their mouths being how he should’ve settled already, started a family, and attended country club events to be visible in the right circles. 

But Jinki was done bending every which way to please them. Now that he had entered his thirties, he realized it was time for him to make changes that would make him feel better, not worse. He wasn’t without feeling the harsh claw grip of guilt seize his stomach every once in a while when he thought about his parents, but he always tried to remember how much his mood had improved since he had minimized contact with them to the strict minimum. 

Speak your heart out

I can tell you're very lonely

Tell me some more

You know you can't take it anymore

Jinki froze mid-way on his way back to the kitchen as those words sunk in. 

Yes, I’m so lonely…

He felt a lump form in his throat as the realization dawned on him.

Since when have you been all by yourself? The song threw back at him. 

Seems like forever, he answered as if a reply was needed. 

The last bit of the song played out leaving the room in an eerie silence. Jinki just stared into space, his shaky hand threatening to spill the content of the dustpan he had been holding. He didn’t know how long he stood there, sitting in the immense void he had never seemed to be able to fill. 

But however long it was, it was suddenly interrupted by the door opening, signaling his best friend’s return. Jinki snapped out of his daze as the door shut behind the taller one and resumed his trajectory towards the trash can, getting rid of the mess.  

"Hey, guess what happened to me today?" Minho said as he swiftly made his way towards him. 

Jinki’s brow cocked for a second, but he quickly caught on to what that question hid. 

"Ah," he deadpanned. "You worked your charms on a girl again?"

"No need to sound so exasperated," Minho reproached, clearly taking offense. 

Jinki gave him a blank stare. 

"Am I wrong?"

Minho crossed his arms over his chest, defeated. 

"No, you are not, but this was different."

"I swear!" he then exclaimed as his best friend’s unchanging gaze had him vehemently wanting to make himself credible. 

"Okay, okay," Jinki conceded. "What was different about this one?"

He now set his cleaning supplies to the side to give his full attention to the one standing before him. 

Minho’s face immediately beamed with excitement as the memory of his previous encounter unfolded in his mind. 

Jinki couldn’t say that didn’t warm his heart. Despite his harrowing feelings of loneliness, he would always be happy that his friend could find companionship so easily. Even though he never kept his girlfriends around long, the time he spent with them always seemed to do him good. 

"So you know how I was out shopping for new suits?"

"Yeah…"

"Well that didn’t happen, ‘cause after I helped out an elderly woman cross the street-"

"Of course," Jinki interjected as he rolled his eyes. 

Somehow, Minho always ended up doing the most stereotypical gentlemanly things ever. It was quite literally impossible to hate the guy, but his seemingly effortless perfection could get on one’s nerves at times. 

"Hey, don’t roll your eyes at me!" Minho called out. "It’s only natural to help out someone who is struggling."

It took everything from him to keep himself from rolling his eyes again. 

"Yeah, yeah," he dismissed. "Get on with it now".

Minho glared at him for a split second, before going on with his story.  

"So as I was saying," he went on after clearing his throat. "I helped this elderly woman out and suddenly, this young lady came out of nowhere and grabbed her arm in panic. Before I could figure out what was going on, she started yelling at me and hitting me with her handbag," the younger one detailed as if recounting a movie scene. "Can you imagine? Everyone was just looking at us in shock, thinking I was being inappropriate or something."

Jinki’s brows furrowed in confusion. 

"I fail to see why you sounded so excited to tell me about this encounter."

There was a sudden shift in his friend’s expression, his face shining with delight as his lips thinned out into a self-satisfied smile. 

"Well… " he prefaced. "The elderly woman, who turned out to be her grandmother, started yelling at her in turn and explained how nice and helpful I had been to her."

The older one’s face lit up.

"Aaah, I see…" he exclaimed. "So you and that elderly woman hit it off, huh?"

The blank expression that instantly settled on his best friend’s face was enough to make him burst out laughing. 

"Ladies of every age love you," he stated, still laughing. "Don’t act as if I said the craziest thing in the world."

"If I remember correctly, older women are usually attracted to you," Minho knowingly threw back at him, effectively stealing his friend’s amusement and turning it into his own. 

"You will never let that shit go, will you?" was Jinki’s annoyed response. 

"How could I?" Minho promptly riposted. "I have to keep bringing up the same old anecdotes, ‘cause you refuse to get your grown man ass out there and date someone," he then reminded. 

Ah there it was. His Achilles’s heel. 

"I’m not you, Minho," he quietly replied, his jaw clenching with the underlying anger he felt towards his friend, but also towards himself. 

"No, you are not," the younger one agreed. "But that doesn’t mean you don’t have the same ability to make anyone fall for you. You just need to tap into your confidence again."

Jinki sighed as he felt the never far-gone ball of self-loathing roll inside his stomach. He wanted nothing more than to throw it away, but somehow, knowing it was there made him feel less lonely. 

"Well, how about you finish that story so that I can take notes from the expert?" he managed to swiftly turn around to get the focus off his pathetic state. 

Minho’s gaze narrowed at that. 

"I know what you are doing, but I’ll indulge you for now," he accepted, catching the other’s relieved expression. 

"So," he resumed. "Even though her grandmother explained to her what had happened, she still looked at me like I was a criminal," Minho recounted as his eyes grew wide from the passion of his storytelling.

"Okay…" Jinki voiced, still trying to figure out what was coming next. 

"So of course, I felt like it was my duty to crush that perception completely."

"Aaah, so you went all out," the older one gathered. 

"No, I couldn’t," Minho said with an amused smile that made him confused again. 

"How come?"

"She wouldn’t let me treat them. She said I was too nice and that it was suspicious," he added with his signature hyena cackle. 

"To be fair, I am surprised that has never happened to you before," Jinki observed. "I’m your best friend and I sometimes also find your kindness and generosity somewhat suspicious," he specified, half-joking, half-stating. 

Minho’s eyes almost popped out of their sockets at that. 

"Eh??" he exclaimed in disbelief. "Are you saying I’m faking it?"

"Not at all," Jinki refuted. "I just think that the universe gave you the most of everything and left the rest of us with crumbs,” he explained with an airy laugh. 

The tall young man crossed his arms over his chest, annoyed. 

"First, that is not true. Secondly, it’s sad that genuine kindness has become suspicious in today’s world."

Jinki nodded as he pondered those words. 

"I can agree with that, but unfortunately, a lot of people out here are using people as a means for their personal interests."

Minho gave him a sympathetic look. 

"I know where you and others are coming from, but it’s not everyone. There are still good, honest people out there."

"Hopefully," Jinki replied, tone heavy. 

"No, not hopefully," Minho countered. "There are and I know you will find that special gem that’ll prove it to you."

"Yeah, yeah, sure," the older one dismissed before he found himself entertaining that hope for too long. "So how did it end with that girl?"

A wolf’s grin lit up his best friend’s face as he was thrown back into the memory. 

"Very well. I saw that she had a squash racquet peeking out of her backpack and once I pointed it out and we started talking about it, it was pretty much a done deal," he boasted. "Her face lit up as if she hadn’t just thrown daggers at me with her eyes and she just marveled over the fact that I knew so much about the sport. So not long after, she gave me her number and we planned a squash game date for next Sunday," he finished with a proud smile. 

If Jinki had been drinking, he would’ve spit out all of his drink onto the floor. 

"A squash game date? Really?" he managed to utter before losing it to a fit of laughter. 

"I don’t see what’s funny about it," Minho said as he felt his ego get pricked. 

"How are we even friends?" Jinki let out between a wave of laughter. "You get excited about the weirdest shit, I swear. A few months ago, it was golf and now it’s squash. What’s next?"

His continued laughter granted him an immediate snarky response. 

"What’s next is me getting into the sport of kicking your butt, that’s what’s next."

Unfortunately, that only made the older one laugh harder. 

"Oh, you would most certainly excel at it, too," Jinki said as he caught his breath. 

"You know what sucks?" Minho started. "It’s that you are incredibly strong for a guy who doesn’t work out that much, but you don’t put any of your natural strength to good use," he pointed out with a tone of reproach. 

"I know you’re saying this so that I can accompany you on your sports’ outings, but that’s not going to happen," Jinki shut down, amused. 

Minho crossed his arms, pouting as if he were a five-year-old who had just been denied candy. 

"Suit yourself, then. But I still think you should get back into something outside of work."

The shorter brunette couldn’t dispute that. The monotony of his days and the encompassing boredom that had taken over his life was getting more and more unbearable. He felt like he had been stripped of any passion that could fuel him. He didn’t even know what it felt like to want something anymore. 

And suddenly, the song he couldn’t shake came to him again, bringing to life the exact way he was feeling. 

I think I know all the trifling stories in the world

But I don't know anything about you, with whom I've shared my breath my whole life,

I don't know, don't know who you are…

"I know," he finally said before looking downwards.

"You really have so many talents, Jinki," Minho kept on, emphasizing his point. "You just need to pick something and see where that leads you."

Jinki nodded, acknowledging his friend’s words with sincere consideration. 

"I was thinking about taking piano lessons again…" he shared, somewhat embarrassed. 

"Oh my fucking god," Minho exclaimed, almost jumping up and down in excitement. "Fina-fucking-lly!! "

Jinki laughed softly at that. 

"Calm down. I am only considering it."

"Still, that’s big. What made you change your mind?" Minho asked, unable to contain his bewilderment. 

Him. His voice. His words. His music. 

"Um… just heard a beautiful piano piece and felt like learning it," he vaguely answered as he rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.  

"Oh nice. What piece was it?"

Fuck. 

"Uh… I don’t remember actually…" Jinki slightly fumbled before going on. "I mean, it’s been a while since I heard it, but it awakened something in me for sure."

"Whoever it is from, I am eternally grateful to them for bringing you back to life," Minho said in a tone that was meant to be teasing, but that was utterly sincere as well. 

Once again, Jinki had to roll his eyes.

"You are so dramatic."

"Seems like it works just fine for me, so I will take that as a compliment," the younger one turned around to his advantage. 

"You’ll take anything as a compliment," Jinki said with slight exasperation.

"And you’ll take anything as a flaw," Minho riposted. "That’s why you need to do the things you love. Maybe then that’ll give you the push you need to get into the dating scene again."

"Eh," the older one shrugged, indifferent. "We’ll see about that."

"Oh, we most certainly will," Minho affirmed with a grin.

Despite his air of indifference, Jinki felt a pang in his chest as if a string was menacing to pull his heart right out. 

I can tell you're very lonely

Tell me some more

You know you can't take it anymore

No, I can’t, he finally admitted to himself. 

And somehow, that realization was enough to make his heart race again, breaking free from its restraints even if just for a moment.  

[darkacademicfrom2021]

Moving day

Based on @lucywrites02's writing challenge, with the prompts "1. You're family" and "8. I have a surprise for you". I wish you a very happy birthday, Lucy!

Pairing: Loki x fem!reader (Tony Stark's daughter, not Morgan)

Word count: 3.2 K

Warnings: fluff and pregnancy :) This was very adorable to write.

Taglist: @lucywrites02, @louieboo87,@jesuswasnotawhiteman, @geekwritersworld, @whatafuckingdumbass, @mysticunicorn7, @toe-vind-ek-jou, @t00-pi, @selfship-mishaps, @sallymagnoliaposts, @deadgirl88, @enderslove

Gif: @moonrainbow

It had surprised Thor greatly how quickly and intensely his brother had fallen for you. He was as committed and truthful as he has never been in his long, long life. He looked at you softly, in comparison with everyone else. As soon as you walked in a room, he followed you with his gaze and invited you to his conversation. It wasn’t a surprise that after a few months of this very silent flirting (that very few noticed, because it mainly consisted in batting eyelashes and repressing subtle smiles when the other was around) you’d come out of the shell and admit you started dating. Thor was ecstatic.

Tony, on the other hand, was not amused. Not amused at all; in fact, he hated the idea of you going around with that God. He said, explicitly “if you ever get in trouble because of him, you solve it yourself. Nothing of coming for daddy to help, clear?”. Pepper had told him to cut some slack, and observe at how happy you were together, but he, stubborn to the bone, had to take a few months more before accepting the fact that his little girl was in love with the God of Mischief.

But the months passed by; almost a year, and you grew closer and closer. You hated to sneak into his room every night, and get interrupted all the time by every single soul in the compound, or mocked to death every time you cuddled on the sofa, watched a movie or read a book together. So, it all boiled down to the same conversation:

“I don’t think he’s ready”, you said while pouring some milk on your cereal. Nat rolled her eyes.

“He’s even readier than you”, insisted Wanda. They were exhausted from having the same conversation over and over, but you couldn’t bring yourself to actually do something about it. “He’s lived much longer, if any of you two were to be unready, that’d be you”.

“Do you think I’m not ready?”, you doubted yourself.

“God, Wanda. You’re planting unnecessary seeds here. The girl’s already anxious enough”.

“I just think… I want him to be with me for the rest of my life. I don’t know if he feels the same”.

“He totally does”.

“Yeah. No doubt about that. Just look at how he looks at you. What are you even waiting for?”.

“I don’t know, a signal?”.

“Of what? You’re impossible. Unless God themself comes down the sky and tells you textually just move in with him, you wouldn’t consider it a ‘signal’”, bitched Nat. But she was right. Commitment was not exactly your thing, even though you were as in love as you could be.

You heard an oncoming scream approaching the room. In silence, you three observed cautiously, and moved away from the middle. The screaming increased its loudness, until a body shattered the roof and fell to the floor violently. Loki laid still among the dusted debris until a second screaming started sounding from the sky.

“Oh, fuck”, he said, managing to get up quickly and making himself as a shield for you three. Thor landed on his feet over the same spot Loki had fallen. Dust flew everywhere and the floor cracked a bit more. “Don’t”, he alerted, pointing at his brother menacingly.

“I’m tired of your whinings, brother. Do something or I’ll do it myself”, spat Thor, grabbing Mjölnir and leaving the room. Loki sighed and sat on the couch, cleaning the remains with his magic. Wanda sighed and put it all back together.

“And what was that about?”, asked Nat, eating a candybar, still on the same spot as earlier. It wasn’t an unusual scene.

“I…”, said Loki, but desisted. You sat on the couch by his side and he laid, using your lap as a pillow. You took out a tissue and started carefully cleaning the blood off his cuts. He smiled softly. “We just had a fight”.

“I can see that. What did you fight about?”.

“He wants me to… well, talk to you”, he struggled to say.

“Well, we’re talking now”.

“Yes. No, wait, no. Like, talk talk”, he clarified, and Nat and Wanda nodded, leaving the room. You could still hear their chattery from the door.

Loki sat up and grabbed both of your hands, making direct eye contact. He was nervous, which only made you even more unsettled. He was never nervous. He was always calm, even in life or death situations. He was unfazed in everything and with almost everyone. Almost.

“What do you want to talk talk about?”, you joked, and he chuckled, releasing some tension.

“I want you to move in with me”.

“Oh. Wait. What?”.

“Like, move out. But with me”.

“To your room?”.

“Out of the Compound”.

“To an apartment?”.

“Yes”.

“Here?”.

“In Midgard, yes”.

“But like, in New York?”.

“Wherever you want, actually”.

You stayed silent for a few seconds, and Loki grew nervous again. You couldn’t help but laugh. He looked at you quizzically, raising an eyebrow.

“I’m sorry, it’s just that… a God just fell down the sky and told me to move in with you”, you clarified, which didn’t actually clarify anything.

“You… what?”.

“Yes, I’d love to move in with you, love”.

And in no time you were already packing things up and going together on apartment huntings.

Tony insisted on helping you out himself, which was hilarious, given the repulsion he had for the idea in the first place. So, you’d go to an apartment by yourself, check it out and talk to the owner for a bit; Loki would arrive later, tensing things up (the owners would usually recognize him, but after a little chat they’d find out he’s a fine man), and then, just after you’d be all calm and good, the owners would see in the papers you’re a Stark, and tense up even more. Easier to say, it wasn’t a normal neighborhood chat.

You had finally decided on a small but very cozy apartment near Central Park; far enough from the Stark Tower, but you could get there pretty quickly for every mission.

You found the place advertised on the papers, and when you showed it to Loki, in sickness and all, you insisted on going to visit it that same day.

“My love, my dearest… you need to rest. I’m afraid you might faint again”, he cooed, trying to get you back to bed.

“A little fever won’t do anything to me, really, I’m f…”, you said, but you felt like vomiting, so you stopped your words and sat on the floor. Loki sat by your side and rubbed your back.

“If you feel better tomorrow, we go, yes? Now, come on, I’m gonna call Banner and you wait on your bed”.

“No, but they might take it, we need to go to make sure…”.

“What about I go, call you on one of those animated images, and you can see it from here?”, he proposed, helping you up. He meant a video call.

“That… sounds about right”.

But you had no actual time to have that video call, for when he was in the apartment, Banner was delivering some more important news.

You’ve been to the examination’s room of the compound before. But this time it seemed brighter. The lights shone so strongly, you had to close your eyes a little.

“What would you like to do about it?”, asked Banner. You were sobbing and trembling.

“I… I don’t know, I’m sure Loki will leave me”.

“What? No, don’t base your decision on that guy’s opinion”.

“Well, I don’t want the kid to not have a father, you know?”, you said as he gave you a tissue. “I want to have it, I’ve always wanted a kid. I think I’m… ready? I’m probably not. Not by myself, and I can’t do this alone. He’ll leave me, won’t he? Why would he want to have a kid with a mortal? We’d die as fast as he blinks”.

“Look, I’m no one to talk about it, but this sounds more like your anxiety and less like something he would do. He really loves you, he has for like at least a year, and I don’t see that going away anytime soon”.

“I know. You might be right”.

“You’re allowed to doubt everything. This is a huge thing, y/n. Think this through, talk to people, talk to your friends, or your parents. Don’t let this eat you”.

“Thanks, Bruce. You’re really… you’re being really nice, I appreciate it”, you sobbed. He handed you another tissue as he rubbed your shoulder.

“This is your call, okay? You have time to think. Text me later how you’re feeling, and have bed rest now. And if you feel too bad, take this”, he handed you some pills, “it should be innocuous for the baby”.

One of those days, that same week, you had decided to make it the official moving day. So, you put every box in the van and drove through the city, to your new home. You haven’t told Loki yet what you knew, and you were terrified he’d get even more upset because you didn’t tell him before the moving. But, to be fair, you didn’t think he’d actually leave.

You had told no one about it, despite Banner’s indications. But it wasn’t eating you. You were enjoying it silently. You were glad; you had your doubts, fears… Hell, you were terrified. But you knew, if Loki wasn’t going to be a part of that, you could do it yourself. You hoped he’d wanted to, though.

Loki and you had started taking the boxes inside, all by hand (to be honest, he was a little scared of the neighbours watching him do things with magic and kicking you two out). You laughed through it, and played races to see who’d finish their boxes first. He was wearing one of those midgardians shirts and pants that melted you completely. He wore that for your anniversary dinner the week before that day, and he noticed how much you loved it on him, so he started wearing fancy casual clothes more often than not.

After about two hours, you were done and completely exhausted. You laid in the middle of the wooden floor, surrounded by boxes and a strong smell of floorwax and fresh paint, and looked at each other fondly.

“Welcome home”, you said, and he showed you the biggest smile he’s ever done.

“I think this place is perfect. It’s away, but not exactly far from your family for whenever you’d want to be with them”.

“Yes, it’s perfect”, you said, getting up and helping him up. “You know, I have a surprise for you”.

“Really? What is it?”.

“Tonight at dinner, shall we? In the meantime, what about we get something to drink before unpacking?”.

“Can’t wait for tonight, then. Would you like some tea?”, he said, surrounding your waist with his arms. You played gently with his hair.

“Yes”.

“I love you”, he said, giving you a small peck over your smile.

“And I love…”, you started saying, but the entrance got filled with noisy people, interrupting you. Four of your friends were already filling the place, giving you an idea of how a small party would fit in there. “... you”.

“Oh my God! This place is so well illuminated!”, said Wanda, marveled.

“And what’s that smell? Have you been cooking something weird?”, said Nat, less enthusiastic, but equally curious. Sam and Bucky were still on the door, and Sam seemed to have brought food. Like a cake, or something similar. Wanda and Natasha were quick to invade the place without further notice.

“Oh, you got one of those hidden drawers! What are you hiding in there?”.

“Probably sex toys”, guessed Nat.

“I’d say drugs. But, like, alien drugs. You know, from his town”, apported Bucky, now making his way in and leaving the cake over the counter.

“I thought drawers were supposed to be for clothes”, said Sam, rolling his eyes.

“Yeah, but hidden drawers? Sexy clothes”.

“Actually, I’m saving my daggers in there”, finally said Loki, kissing your cheek before pulling away from you, and appearing a cup of tea in each guest with a movement of his wrist.

“Boring”.

“So, guys, what do you think?”, you said as you started opening one of the boxes.

“I think it’s small”, said Tony, as he walked in. Pepper rolled her eyes behind him.

“Don’t listen to him, you guys chose perfectly. This place will look very nice once you paint it and decorate it”.

“It’s already painted”.

“Oh. Well, it… it looks nice”.

“Thanks mom”, you chuckled. “It’s small but we don’t need it to be big”.

“You better be actually saving daggers in here”, Tony peeped inside the hidden drawer. “Now that is not so hidden. I wouldn’t like to open it up someday and find a…”.

“Dad, please”, you rolled your eyes and went to Loki’s side. “Don’t worry, you won’t find anything weird. Just the daggers and knives of my very innocent boyfriend”.

“Well, you’ll have to think further about having knives so close to the floor, you know”, he muttered. Loki furrowed his eyebrows.

“Why?”.

Tony ignored him and walked to you earnestly, with the most serious face expression you’ve ever seen, and everyone observed quietly. He grabbed you by the shoulders, and inhaled a deep breath. All of the sudden, his eyes got watery, and you realized Banner had told him about the pregnancy. Your heart beat so fast you thought you’d faint again, right there. The corners of his lips formed a tiny smile, and he hugged you tightly. Loki was certainly confused now. As far as he knew, Tony didn’t like him, and why would he be so happy about you moving out? It’s not like you were his only child, either.

“I’m so proud of you”, he whispered, and then Loki had the feeling he wasn’t talking about the new apartment, but didn’t ask any further.

That night you managed to cook something special, even though you still hadn’t gotten the gas installed. You cooked together, and laughed at every minor inconvenience the house could give you. The doors of the countertop cabinets were the perfect height for Loki’s 6’4” ass to stump his head every time he tried to open it.

After some time of silent cooking, absorbed on each’s thoughts, Loki asked about your dad’s pride.

“Oh, he’s… well, he just, gets very emotional with these things”. He chuckled at your very obvious lie.

“No, he doesn’t. Certainly not with me”.

“Come on, he likes you now. He likes anyone I love, because you make me happy, and because he has no other choice”.

“Well… I thought he’d be less amused”, he admitted. “Hasn’t he? Other choice, I mean”.

“I don’t think so. He’d have to deal. Family is family”.

“Oh, do I know about that”, he said, cutting a carrot more strongly than before. You laughed.

“I meant it in a good way”.

“Well, your family is one thing, mine is another… I can’t push yours to like me, as much as I would like to. They’re very nice, and I wish I had a family like that, but I don’t”.

“Love, family is built”, you said, this time a little more serious. He repressed a smile, still looking at the vegetables. “You’re part of this, too, you know?”.

“Of this?”.

“You’re family”.

He didn’t repress the smile this time.

“You’re right. You’re my family, too, my love”.

“You…”, you took a deep breath. It was the perfect moment. “Do you ever imagine us in the future?”.

“Why yes, of course”.

“Really?”.

“I want to spend all your life with you. I didn’t want to rush into things because… I don’t know, scaring you out of anything, but I…”, he said, and the alarm on your phone went off, to take the rice from the fridge. You two laughed at how mundane this conversation seemed. “But I love you, and I want you by my side”.

“Okay. Well I do too. That’s good, right? That’s good”.

“Yes, of course it’s good, why so doubtful?”, he laughed, grabbing a tomato and stabbing it.

“Because I’m pregnant”.

“Yeah”, he chuckled, without actually realizing what you just said. And then, he fell. “Hold on, what did you just say?”.

“I’m… I’m having a baby. Yours, of course”, you clarified. You felt like you had to, but it wasn’t actually necessary. Silence filled the kitchen.

“Oh dear” he paused. He left the knife over the counter and looked at you, looking for any trace of a joke. You weren’t joking, and you grew nervous as he let time pass by without saying a word. “How could you not tell me this before moving in?”, he muttered, still in a bit of a shock.

“Oh. Well… I…”.

“I wouldn’t have let you carry those heavy boxes, love, I’m so sorry”, he said, and cupped your cheeks. “Are you really…?”. You sighed in relief. For a moment you thought of the worse.

“Yes, I am”.

His arms embraced you completely, hugging you as tight as he allowed himself to. He muttered how much he loved you, and how happy you had just made him, for the rest of his life.

Later that night, as you laid in bed, he cuddled you from behind with his hands on your tummy and his lips on your bare shoulder. You could feel his soft breathing grazing your skin, and his warmth keeping you safe.

“Loki”, you whispered, checking if he was still awake. You couldn’t sleep.

“Yes, love?”, he whispered back.

“Are you sure you want to be a daddy? With me?”.

He turned you around, and lowered his head to your abdomen. He sank his face and kissed all around your stomach and hips, leaving a trace of kisses up to your neck, and then your lips.

“How could I not?”, he whispered in a low voice. Burying his nose in the crook of your neck, teased “besides, the word daddy comes out so well from your lips”.

You laughed softly, and after some more silence that was fairly filled with loving stares, a thought crossed his head and you saw the light of his eyes turn to dark.

“What is it, love?”, you put a strand of his hair behind an ear.

“I… I’m just realizing something bad”, he said, and you nodded. “I’m a Frost Giant”.

“Why is it bad?”.

“My actual form is bigger than this. And… colder. And if the baby were Jötun too...”.

“You think the baby might hurt me?”.

“They might. I don’t know. Oh no, what if they hurts you?”, he began to panic, and you shushed him, kissing his temples.

“Don’t worry, Lokes. If that’s the case, we’ll figure it out”, you reassured him. “And maybe it’s not. And we’ll have a little and very healthy half-Jötun running around this small apartment. When have we not solved our issues? We’re good at that bit”.

“You’re right. You’re right, my dear”. He sighed, and then chuckled. “Should we have gotten a bigger place?”.

“We’ll be a very close family”, you laughed.

“We already are”, he whispered, cuddling back to you. “We are a very close family”.

[shyficwriter]

Who's Tougher?

Guardians of the Galaxy fanfic | Reader x Guardians (With Yondu and Kraglin!)

Summary: Guardians find out that Reader maybe isn't Terran while playing with one of those labor pain/period cramp simulators. Inspired by that one episode of Lucifer where Lucifer got tased.

Author’s Note: Based off this dumb post I wrote earlier, because sometimes my dumber ideas are the funniest.

Part 2 here.

Word Count: 2,376 It had started with a bet.

Who was tougher? You or Peter?

Tired of hearing your bickering one day, and after having come across a video on the internet where a couple of guys were using a period cramp simulator, Rocket decided to whip one up with some spare parts he had lying around. Took him about 10 minutes, 15 if you count the time it took him to sort through his spare parts drawer.

You and Peter where sitting at the table with Kraglin when Rocket hopped up and slapped it on the table, interrupting your bickering.

"What's that?" Peter asked, his face one of confusion.

It looked almost like Peter's Zune, only bigger and instead of headphones it had four long wires coming out of it that were attached to thin disk-shaped objects.

"This is gonna settle your argument on who's tougher once and for all so I don't gotta hear your constant whining anymore." Rocket said.

"Hey! It's not constant!" you say, a bit offended, but also not looking forward to doing whatever Rocket was suggesting. "What is that even supposed to do?"

"Saw a video online where a couple of Terran-types were using electric pulses to simulate period cramps. It does that, more or less."

"More or less??" You cry uncertainly, "You want to electrocute us? Because that's what I'm hearing."

Peter laughs, "If you're scared you can just admit that I'm tougher." He leans back in his chair with a smug look that makes you want to smack him.

You glare at him. "I'm not scared. I'm just being cautious of accepting offers to let Rocket stick electrodes on us!"

Kraglin snickers from his side of the table. "Sound scared to me. If Yondu could trust him to wire his fin into his skull, I'm sure ya can trust him not to fry ya with that little thingy-ma-bob."

Yondu, having heard his name while walking by, stops by the table. "What's going on here?"

"Rocket wants to electrocute us!"

"Do not!" Rocket defends. "Well, not much... I just want to settle which one of them is really tougher so they'll quit whining about it."

Yondu shakes his head, chuckling. He looks at you. "So you're really gonna give in and tell Peter he's tougher cuz yer scared of a little shock?"

You glare at him. You knew he was only trying to razz you up, but you couldn't help it. "I'm not scared, I-"

Peter cuts you off. "Then prove it." He was bluffing, he didn't really want to try either. Who in their right mind would willingly let Rocket hook them up to an electric shock machine?? But his poker-face was good. Too good.

"Ugh. Fine. If to only wipe that smug grin off your dumb face." you say, rolling your eyes. "How's it work?"

Rocket grinned, as did the other two. "Ok, so you each get two of these electrodes," He held up the white disk, "and you stick them to your stomach, and then I'll take this," he held up the Zune-looking thing, "and turn it up until one of you taps out."

You begrudgingly took the electrodes from Rocket and he clarified his instructions by telling you both to place them below your belly-button. You retake your seats at Rocket's behest, him cockily saying that you 'might want to sit down for this'.

"Ready?" he smirked.

You looked at Peter's cocky grin and rolled your eyes. "Sure."

Rocket turned the dial. Nothing happened, so you assumed it had only just switched the device on, but you did see Peter give a little jolt.

You turned your head to him and laughed. "What you jumpy for, Mister Cocky? He hasn't started yet."

"Yes I did."

You looked back at Rocket, confused. "What?"

"I did start it. It's on level 1 now."

You look at Peter. He confirms it's on. "You don't feel anything?" he asks. You shake your head.

Rocket give you an odd look and says he's turning it up to 2.

Peter jerks again, softly grunting. "Hey, how high does this go?"

Rocket answers that it goes up to 10, and Peter makes a face that makes it obvious he's regretting his life choices.

"Oh, I can feel it now," you say, your mouth twitching upward in a grin. "It kinda tickles."

"That doesn't seem right?" Rocket switches it off. "Switch your leads, I want to make sure there's not a short in the wires."

You and Peter do what's asked. As soon as Rocket sees all the leads are stuck down properly he cranks it up to 2 without warning.

Peter jerks forward and grabs the table with a grunt. "Dude! What the fuck! A warning would be nice!"

You, however, only start softly giggling with a, "Hey!"

Rocket scratches his head, and turns the knob to 2.5.

Peter squeezes his eyes shut and tries, but fails, to sit back up straight. You also close your eyes, but it's because you've brought a hand to press on your forehead as you lean back in your chair, still giggling.

As soon as Rocket turns the knob to 3, Peter taps out.

Rocket turns the device off and looks at you suspiciously before glancing at Yondu and Kraglin who only shrug in response. "I don't get it? That's not supposed to happen?" Rocket says looking his new device over.

"I'll have a go." says Kraglin. "I bet Pete's just being a baby."

This earns a chuckle from Yondu and an annoyed outburst from Peter, who challenges Yondu to do it with Kraglin if they're both so tough.

Smirking, Yondu actually agrees. You and Peter hand over your leads and Yondu and Kraglin put them on.

Rocket repeats the same process. He starts them out at 1, and neither react. He goes up to 2, and Kraglin winces like Peter had. Up to 3, and Kraglin grunts and starts to grip the table while Yondu only acknowledges he can feel it pinching, but from the look on his face you can tell he's just putting on a tough act.

Rocket turns it up to 4 and Yondu exhales out his nose while looking up at the ceiling. At 6 Kraglin taps out and Rocket turns the device off.

Yondu laughs and tells Peter, "Guess everyone here is tougher than you, boy." to which Peter calls bullshit, says he wasn't ready, and demands to go again, this time against Yondu.

Peter doesn't make it past 4, and you laugh at him, prompting him to glare at you and say, "You wouldn't make it past 4 either!"

You call his bet, laughing, "Guess I'd need to go up against Yondu or Krags then, because we know you sure can't."

Before Peter can retort the rest of the team has come over to see what the fuss is about.

Rocket explains that you're seeing who's the toughest, and this promptly makes Mantis and Groot, in their innocence, want to try. However, this is immediately shot down by Gamora, who says that any game, or whatever it was that you were doing, where you willfully electrocute yourself, was stupid.

Drax, however, says he'll have a go, and Peter jumps on this, telling you, "There you go! Go up against Drax. If you can outlast him I'll finally say you're tougher than me."

"Quill." Yondu says in a warning tone, the implication clear that he didn't think anyone could beat the behemoth and that he knew that Peter egging you on like that would only result in you pushing yourself too hard to prove him wrong and getting hurt.

"Relax, old man!" Peter turned to you with a smug grin. "You can take it, right?" Peter is really pushing his luck, but you agree, taking back your leads from Yondu, and Rocket instructing Drax what to do as he takes Peter's chair.

Once you were both settled Rocket made sure you were ready before turning the device up to 1, then after a moment 2, and after another moment 3, where you had left off before.

Drax was just sitting there unfazed, but you were giggling again like before, prompting Drax to ask you what was so funny.

"It tickles!" you say, covering your face again and giggling harder once Rocket announced he was turning it up to 4.

"I bet you're faking it just to mess with us." Peter grumbled at you as Gamora gave him a strange look.

They heard Mantis giggling and looked over to see Mantis pulling her hand away from your arm, her antennae glowing. "Nope. Not lying. I don't sense any feelings of deception."

"Well, that doesn't make any sense, but here's 5." Rocket said, turning the dial.

You jerked in your seat, drawing one foot up into your chair as you tilted your head back laughing, still covering your face with your hands. "Ok! Ok! Wait a minute!" you squeak.

"Are you saying you give up?" Peter said with a smirk. "Guess that means you can't say you're tougher than me."

You flip him off. "No! I didn't say that!" This makes Yondu chuckle. Like most of the rest of the team he had started grinning at your reactions. You may be being stubborn, but he supposed you being tickled was better than you being in pain, though by all accounts it didn't make sense. He had done it himself, and it most definitely didn't tickle.

"Well it's up to 5, you couldn't get past 4, Pete." Kraglin corrected, letting Peter know that you technically had just proved you were tougher by being able to go to a higher setting than him.

"That's not the deal we made. Besides, how can it count if it only tickles? The higher settings are bound to hurt." He knew his logic was flawed, but he was stubborn too, he wasn't just going to hand you a victory.

Seeing as you weren't giving up yet, Rocket went ahead and dialed it up to 6.

"How you doing Drax?" Kraglin asked.

Drax just shrugged. "Fine. It's not the most pleasant feeling, but it's completely bearable."

They didn't ask how you were doing. It was pretty clear how you were doing. You hadn't quit giggling this whole time, much to Rocket's frustration because it just didn't make sense. It was, however, the only thing keeping Gamora from making Rocket stop. She knew Drax could take almost anything, so he'd be fine. You didn't seem to be in pain at all, so she assumed you must be safe.

Rocket dialed up to 7.

Drax nodded his head. "There it is. I can feel it more now." However, there wasn't an ounce of pain etched into his face. Dude obviously had one hell of a pain tolerance.

You were still curled in your chair. One hand covered your mouth while you giggled, the other rested on your knee. You tried to psyche yourself up. It was only a tickle. You weren't a baby. You got this, right?

The foot that had been in your chair then slammed to the floor as you lurched forward with a shriek of laughter, gripping the metal armrest of your chair as your other hand wrapped around your middle.

"How can that still tickle!? It's turned up to 8!" Rocket questioned in disbelief, holding up the device to Yondu as if to prove it.

"Eight!?" you cry, "You were supposed to tell us, you rabid raccoon!"

Drax began to laugh as well and in disbelief Peter said, "Drax? Seriously?!"

"It doesn't tickle," Drax clarified, his laughter dying into a light chuckle. "It's just very funny to watch the smaller Terran react."

You attempted to glare at Drax for referring to you as the "smaller Terran," but failed at it. You stomped your foot on the ground as you felt the tickle get somehow worse, and knew Rocket had turned it up again. "Rocket! Please!" you whined, making a few of the others laugh. Maybe you don't got this.

"That one was for calling me a raccoon, asshat." Rocket said with a grin, his previous frustration seemingly gone in favor of mischief.

You quickly reach for the little shit, but you recoil as he jumped out of reach, a smug grin on his face as he turned the dial to the last setting.

"And that one was 'cause I can."

Drax barely reacted, but you were suffering.

Shit. Shit. Nothing had ever tickled like this before. You don't got this. You still had a death grip on the arm of the chair and you were laughing so hard you couldn't sit up straight. Screw the bet, time for begging. "Ok! Ok!" you squeal. "Rock-Rocket! Ahaha! Ok! I'm sorry! Please! I can't- I give up!"

Rocket and Peter laughed triumphantly as you continued to plead for mercy. Yondu had pity on you and chuckled saying, "Alright, Rat. That's enou-"

He was cut off by a metallic squeal and a snap that made everyone jump. The sound was only followed by the sounds of your dying laughter as you caught your breath.

You threw your leads up on the table, having had ripped them off when you couldn't take it anymore (and after having finally realized that was an option.) You finally look up at Rocket, still giggly and gasping for breath as you say, "Youhoo suck! Eheheh... you- you little brat... haha... Jeez..." Your eyes were glowing a bright blue that slowly faded as you raised an eyebrow, noting how your companions expressions have changed to something resembling "WTF??"

"What's with the faces?" you ask, only to follow Mantis's eyes down to the arm of your chair, or rather, what used to be the arm of your chair.

You had snapped it, but that wasn't all. It was now twisted both outward & downward and the place you had been gripping it had been crushed to form to the inside of your fist as if it had been made of foam board.

You hear someone hesitantly say, "Ya ain't Terran... are ya?"

You look back up at your friends' expectant faces with a nervous grin, squinting and blushing as you rub the back of your head. "Well, aha... This is awkward..."

[chudleycanonficfest]

One Last Dance

Day 4, Story #1 is by @be11atrixthestrange

Title: One Last Dance Author/Artist: be11atrixthestrange Pairing: Jily  Prompt: Halloween Rating: T Trigger Warning(s) (if any): implied character death

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Harry was fussier than usual on Halloween night. Bath time was an ordeal, as Harry kept knocking the shampoo bottle out of Lily’s hand and splashing water at her. Afterward, the child almost refused to fall asleep; he wriggled in her arms and tugged on her hair as she swaddled him. Just because he couldn’t speak full sentences yet didn’t mean he couldn’t communicate; he did so with his eyes, and Lily swore there was a smirk on his face as she rocked and sang to him, until he finally drifted off.

Lily didn’t mind a fussy baby, in fact, she enjoyed the challenge. She cherished every extra moment with her child, and at exactly fifteen months, Harry’s newfound spunk was nothing but evidence of his emerging personality. He had her eyes, and she wondered if he’d get James’ messy hair, horrid eyesight, and infuriating charm. She grinned at the thought of a sassy and sarcastic Harry, star of the quidditch team, just like his dad. Or maybe he’d be more like Lily; sensitive and studious, top of his class, future Head Boy. 

Of course, there could be nothing remarkable about him at all. He could turn out to be average, maybe even terrible at sports, or join weird clubs and get below-average marks. Even then, if her son came home for the summer excited about a slew of ‘acceptables’, or stressed about Gobstones club drama, he’d still be the coolest person Lily knew. 

Whatever he turned out to be — head boy, quidditch captain, super-nerd, or even squib — Lily couldn’t wait to find out. It was funny how determined she had been to never admit her feelings for James Potter. Her feelings were always there, but that boy had to work hard for her affection. All Harry had to do was laugh, or sneeze, or wrap his tiny fingers around her pinky, and Lily was a goner.

With the stubborn child finally asleep, Lily shuffled downstairs to find that James had already cleaned up dinner in the kitchen and was pouring two generous glasses of wine, almost as if he read her mind. 

He beamed when he saw her — one of her favorite things about him was that he made no effort to hide his feelings, ever — and slid the glass across the countertop. 

“What’s the occasion?” she asked, raising the glass to her lips. It was bitter to the taste but relented into a friendlier, fruitier flavor once Lily committed to a sip. 

She never knew she could relate so much to a glass of wine. 

“Halloween,” said James. “I know you love it, and I’m sorry we couldn’t celebrate the muggle way.”

Halloween was always Lily’s favorite holiday growing up. There was something comforting about everyone’s sudden suspension of disbelief and willingness to face what scared them. She wished muggles would have embraced the paranormal every day, it surely would have made her life easier.

“It’s okay,” she said. “It has to be this way.” 

Lily wished they could hand out candy to trick-or-treaters, but the neighborhood muggles couldn’t see their home; not while it was under the Fidelius Charm. Staying hidden wasn’t what she had imagined when moving to a mixed-magical community, but for now, it was the safest option. The only option. 

James met her on the other side of the kitchen island, interrupting her thoughts with two fingers under her chin. “Definitely next year,” he said before tilting her head up for a kiss. 

Her eyes fluttered shut, and she smiled against his lips, wondering if Harry’s ability to make her heart explode was just as hereditary as his bright green eyes. There was something about those Potter boys that knocked her off her feet.

Maybe James was right, and next year, things would be different. They could get to know their non-magical neighbors, and Lily could take Harry trick-or-treating. He’d look so cute dressed up as a hippogriff, and no one would bat an eye when he’d insist it was a real animal. Kids say the darndest things, and on Halloween, anything was possible. 

“Next year, for sure.” Lily took another swig of her wine and relished in the evolution of its flavor, a delicious reminder that things change, sometimes so fast that she might blink and miss it. Things weren’t perfect by any means — they were in the middle of a war, after all — but there was no shortage of good in their lives. Not everyone could say they had a happy family, loyal friends, and really good wine. 

“Dance with me?” asked James, setting his wine down next to hers and tugging gently on her arm. 

It didn’t take much to lure her into the open space of the living room and settle into the crook of his neck. There was no music, but that didn’t matter; if there had been a beat, they would probably have ignored it anyway. 

“Do you remember the first time we ever danced?”

She nodded against his shoulder. Of course she remembered.

It was Halloween, sixth year, and James and Lily had been alone in the common room. 

“Happy Halloween, Lily,” said James as he approached her. “Today, you’re not a freak.”

Out of context, it might have sounded like senseless teasing, but it was so much more than that. She stared back at him, mouth agape, and wasn’t sure how to respond. It had been years — years — since they had talked about Halloween, and somehow he remembered a passing comment from her eleven-year-old self. 

“You remember that?” she asked, looking at him through narrowed eyes. 

It was her answer to an ice-breaker game during their first year — ‘what’s your favorite holiday and why?’ She hadn’t expected the confused stares at her response. In the muggle world, Halloween was the only day when she didn’t feel weird. Now, Halloween, and the fact that it meant something different to her than to everyone else, meant it was the only day when she did. 

However, she’d happily settle for one single day of being a freak; it was much better than three hundred and sixty-four.

“Of course I remember,” said James, smiling at her. His grin was electric, almost zapping through his messy black hair. Then, he reached out a questioning hand and raised his eyebrows. She stared back at him, wishing he would just use his words, yet she was impressed that with her, he didn’t need to. James always wore his thoughts on his face, in plain sight for the world to see, and never seemed to feel any shame or embarrassment for expressing them.

It touched a nerve for Lily, who had spent most of her life hiding. She longed for him to have to explain himself for once, to actually verbalize his thoughts instead of coasting by in his utopia where people just understood him. It wasn’t fair. “What are you asking, James?” 

“Dance with me?” he clarified. His voice was annoyingly calm and collected as if he knew she had been expecting him to elaborate, yet aware that he didn’t have to. He didn’t even flinch at her incredulous stare, confident in his request, as if asking her to dance was the most obvious progression to wishing her a happy Halloween. 

“Why?” She steadied her hands firmly by her sides, hoping James didn't see her fingers twitch toward his.

“To celebrate Halloween, of course.” His cheeks were rosy, his eyes sparkling, and his continued lack of reaction was curious. Despite her rejection, he committed to holding out his hand with confidence. 

“People don’t dance on Halloween.”

“I’m people, and I dance on Halloween,” laughed James.

She looked at his hand and considered it. Despite a few accidental brushes of her hand while taking notes or passing in the hallway, she had never actually touched him. And Lily had always been the curious type.

James followed her gaze to his hand and playfully wiggled his fingers. 

“Okay,” she said, placing her hand in his. His touch was gentle, firm, confident. It felt nice. “But there’s no music.”

“We don’t need any,” he said, pulling on her arm so that her body pressed up against his. It might have been too forward if she hadn’t fit so perfectly, but honestly, standing any further from him would have felt like sitting upright in a reclining chair. “If there was music, I’d probably ignore the beat, anyway.”

“You would?”  His soft voice immediately put her at ease in his arms, even though her palms were sweating and her heart was picking up its pace. “Why?”

“I’m too distracted,” he said. “Wasn’t expecting you to say yes.”

Lily laughed. “Then why’d you risk asking?”

“Anything is possible on Halloween, right?”

His arms tightened around her just then, not in a forceful way, just comfortable and supportive. She let herself get lost in the moment, swaying with James by the crackling fire, actually smelling, not imagining, his cologne, and feeling the prickle of his stubble against her forehead — when did that grow in? 

Maybe the next day, they’d go back to their usual dynamic, somewhere between flirting and arguing, annoyance and admiration. Or maybe, this would change things. There was something about the Potter boy and his messy black hair, unruly and uncaring, his glasses that should have made him look like a nerd but didn’t, and his annoying charisma that had an effect on her. It wasn’t a secret; they were both aware of it, yet neither felt the need to acknowledge it. At least not yet. They were so young, and they had so much time. 

“Was that when it all changed for you?” asked James, pulling her back to the present. “Is that when you finally gave in to my charm?”

Lily smiled at her husband. “Nothing changed that day. Nothing ever changed.”

James smiled, and Lily leaned into the sharpness of his stubble, a few lazy days unshaven. She melted against him and held him tight. Although his belly was softer, his voice was deeper, the circles under his eyes were darker, reflecting fifteen months of erratic sleep schedules, nothing about him had changed. 

The moment was broken by the sobering sound of a baby crying. Both Lily and James groaned as they pulled away from one another and swiftly turned their focus to their child. 

“I’ll put him back to bed,” said Lily.

“I can do it,” interrupted James. “You bathed him.”

Lily thought of the miniature James crying in his crib, and her heart clenched. It had only been minutes since she last snuggled him, and she already missed the child. “I really want to,” she said. 

James nodded, but his gaze was not on Lily. “Okay. I will meet you upstairs, then. I want to check the wards — I thought I saw some movement outside.”

Lily squinted at the window, her heart rate rising.

“It’s probably nothing,” said James.

Reaching for her half-full glass of wine, Lily nodded. “Alright, I’ll meet you upstairs. I love you.”

“Love you too.”

With one last glance at her husband, Lily made her way up the stairs toward Harry.

Harry, the child who always scrunched up his face when he slept, pursing his lips and crinkling his nose like he just ate a lemon. The boy with her eyes and James’ smile, who was already the best kid ever, even though his personality had yet to be determined. The kid who had a temper, but always calmed down the moment his mother wrapped her arms around him, the stubborn, determined one who could melt Lily’s heart with a single look. 

Her son, Harry, who she couldn’t wait to watch grow up, yet she hoped would never change.

[firstofficerwiggles]

Chapter 3: Lust, Actually

Links to: Chpt. 1, Chpt. 2 Chpt. 4

Pairing: The Mandalorian x female reader

Rating: T

Warnings: Jealous!Din, swearing, sexual arousal, mixed signals

Word Count: ~6300

Summary: Din starts to be more aware of his attraction and maybe feelings for you. Also, he takes you and the child to a lake for a few days of relaxation.

Author’s Note: This chapter is from Din’s perspective. Just to clarify my writing in general, when I use Din it means it’s his thoughts, but when I use Mando, it’s your thoughts. Also, I hope you like Din being a bit of an exhibitionist here, because I think, given the chance, he’d enjoy showing off for you.

“Welcome back, Mando!” Din feels his heartbeat skip at your cheerful greeting. You always seem so happy to see him when he returns, giving him that wide smile, your eyes lighting up. You’re holding the child and you come over to him, saying “Somebody missed you while you were gone!”

Din knows you mean the kid, but he’d like to know that you missed him too, even though he knows he shouldn’t be thinking like that. He doesn’t want to admit to himself how much he’s been looking forward to seeing your pretty face again. He pushes his thoughts about you aside as you hand him the little one and he focuses his attention on greeting his foundling instead. “Did you have a good time here in Cloud City, buddy?”

“I’d say he had a great time,” you reply, “He loved playing in the big indoor park with all of the other children.” You and the child have been staying in Cloud City for about a week, while Din tracked down a bounty. It had been a particularly tricky job, but at least it was well paying, which meant he was looking forward to being able to take a break for a few days. He tickles the child under his chin getting him to giggle. Maybe he’ll take you all to Crucival, he remembers it has some pretty grasslands that you’ll both probably enjoy. Should be nice, give everyone a chance for some fresh air.

“I have all our things ready to go, but we just need to stop in at the café a few doors down to collect our dinner and say goodbye.” You tell Din, gesturing to your small pile of bags.

“Say goodbye to who?” He asks.

“Riva, the owner of the café,” you explain, “The green bean here just loves the meat pies from there. We’ve been there every day. I ordered a few to take with us.”

Din nods in response and hands the child back to you so he can collect the bags. He shakes his head at your protests that you can carry something and just gestures for you to go ahead. You’re so cute when you think he needs help. Din follows you to the aforementioned café and sees a handsome man greet you and the child enthusiastically. Apparently, this is Riva. Din feels his jaw clench involuntarily and his stomach feels hot. He tries to ignore it though as you’re turning toward him with a hand extended as you say, “Mando, come meet Riva.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Mando.” Riva reaches out his hand in greeting. Din gives it a brief shake but saying nothing in response. It doesn’t seem to bother Riva, as he can’t keep his eyes off you and he turns back to say, “I’ll miss you two around here. You’ve been a real bright spot in my day.”

“Thank you,” you respond with a smile, “It’s been nice getting to know you. Oh, and thank you for the recipe, I know it will keep the little guy happy.” Din wonders if the meat pies are the only reason you’ve been coming to this café every day. He tries not to thinks about how much time you’ve probably spent visiting with Riva. He tells himself it doesn’t matter, you’re leaving now with him, and besides, why should he care who you spend your time with as long as the child is taken care of and safe.

“We should get going,” Din says and he decides to reach forward and place a hand on your shoulder.

“Of course.” You respond, “Wave bye-bye,” you tell the baby and you making waving motions to prompt him. Din moves his hand down to the small of your back and presses lightly in a gesture meant to get you to turn and walk with him. He’s pleased when you follow his movements; he likes that it shows you’re in sync with him.

“Have a safe journey! Maybe I’ll see you again soon?” Riva says hopefully.

“Maybe,” you reply with a small glance back.

“Not if I can help it,” Din says under his breath. You turn your head towards Din and for a moment, he thinks you heard his comment. But you say nothing and just continue on, letting him lead you towards the landing platform where the Razor Crest is parked. He keeps his hand on your lower back as you walk, knowing that it’s a small excuse to touch you without raising any questions.

Maker! He shouldn’t look forward to it as much as he does, but he really enjoys it when he has an excuse to touch you. Maybe you’ll be interested in practicing more self-defense techniques these next few days. Not only will it be a valuable skill for you to have, but also, he knows it means you’ll be in close proximity to him and there’s a good chance he’ll get to feel your body against his again. He’s embarrassed to admit even to himself the number of daydreams he’s had about being free to touch you without an excuse. Many of these daydreams are so innocent, things like running his fingers over your hair, holding your hand while you’re seated next to him, or embracing you when he returns from a hunt. Din sighs as he mulls over these thoughts. I am being pathetic and probably creepy too.

It doesn’t help things that the lines between being your employer and being your friend seem to be blurring every day. He chalks it up to living with you and the casual intimacy that comes with it. Something as simple as seeing you in your pajamas or knowing the exact scent of your soap has allowed him to know more about you than a typical employer might. Then there’s the odd sense of pride from knowing that he provides for you, and not just that he pays your salary, but that he provides you with a home and food. It’s similar to the feeling he had when he protected you from that creep in the marketplace a few weeks ago. Not that he had needed to do much, but the satisfaction he had from showing you how capable he was at keeping you safe was a new emotion that he didn’t quite recognize but was eager to feel again.  

“So, what’s the next stop?” Your question brings Din out of his reverie. You’ve settled into the co-pilot’s chair after securing the child in his own seat.

“Crucival. I have some time to take a break for the next few days, and I figured you’d like one too.” Din tells you of his plan.

“Oh good! I know the kiddo will be happy to get to spend some time with you. Plus, I’d love a few hours to myself.” You sound eager for the opportunity. “Not that I don’t adore you, buddy,” you look over and reassure the child.

“I also thought I could teach you some additional self-defense tactics,” Din mentions casually, “If you’d like.”

“Oh, uh, sure, if you think so,” you say, “But, um, we don’t have to practice shooting moving targets, do we?”

“I was thinking more hand-to-hand fighting. Nothing too strenuous, just some key moves to help you get out of a bad situation.” He explains. Din can tell the idea of shooting a moving target really bothers you and he knows he’ll need to think of a clever way to help you become more comfortable with the idea.

“Ok, yeah, that would be good.” You offer him a small shrug. It’s not the enthusiastic response he was hoping for but at least you didn’t say no.

“There’s also a nice lake there I thought we could visit.” Din tells you thinking of another place that you and the child might enjoy seeing.

“Ooh! Do you think we can go swimming?” Now your tone is full of enthusiasm and you’re smiling at the prospect of a lake visit.

“Sure, if the weather is nice.” He’s pleased you sound so excited. Din’s not sure why he feels this need to make you happy, but each time he does, he knows he wants to do it again. Perhaps it’s just the way you seem to appreciate everything that he does, even trivial actions can bring a smile to your face and a warm ‘thank you’ from your lips. It’s not like other people don’t appreciate his work, but there’s something that feels different when you thank him, like it means so much to you.

“Tell me more about what you two did in Bespin.” Din likes hearing you talk about your time with the child.

“Well, I told you we went to the park; he liked going down the slide and playing in the sandbox there. Plus, he made lots of friends. There was this one little girl, Lisel, that he really liked and he loved holding her hand and walking around with her. They were so cute together.” You chuckle a little at the memory. “They became such good friends that her father invited us to dinner one evening.”

“Her father?” Din asks, wondering if you spent all your time meeting men while you were in Cloud City.

“Yes, he’s a single father, like you. Mostly Lisel was with her nanny at the park too, but one day her father brought her. He’d heard so much about the green boy, as Lisel called him, that he wanted to meet us.”

“How was it?” Din asks politely, although he’d rather not hear about your dinner date.

“It was fun, the little guy had a great time at dinner. He even shared his dessert with Lisel, so you know she was a very special friend.” Your voice teases the little one, as you know his fondness for sweet treats.

“Oh wait, I forgot, I took some holos to show you.” You pull out your holopad from your pocket and show him several of the child with a little girl who looks to be about 4 years old. Din has to admit, the kid does look like he’s having a great time. When you get to a holo with an attractive man and the little girl, he feels his interest wane.

“That’s Lisel’s father, he was friendly; it was nice of him to open his home to us.” You explain, a bit unnecessarily in Din’s opinion.

“Hmm” is all Din can think to say in response to that. Sure, this guy invited over his kid’s new friend because he’s just that nice, it had nothing to do with the beautiful woman caring for him. He’s thankful his expression is hidden from you by his helmet. He knows it’s stupid, because you’ll probably never see the man again, and he himself has no claim on you, but he can’t help a flare of jealousy at the thought of you sharing a meal with another man. It’s compounded by the fact that Din can’t ever share a meal with you without breaking his creed. Thankfully, he doesn’t have to hear any more about Lisel’s father, because you appear to be out of holos and decide to change the subject.

“How was your hunt? I mean, I’m sure you caught him, but how did it go?” You ask him. You’ve never inquired about his bounties in the past and he wonders what made you think to ask him now.

“It was successful, that’s the important part.” He responds.

“Will you tell me about it? I’d like to hear more about what you do.” You sound genuinely curious. He isn’t usually one to share tales of his work. He always saw it as outrageous bragging after hearing stories from other bounty hunters back on Navarro. But there’s something about your expression, an eagerness to know more about him, that makes him feel like talking about it.

“This one was difficult, because the guy was a lot craftier than most quarries.” He explains. “Normally, they just run to some place over-populated thinking they can blend in or they head somewhere remote and try to hide. But this guy managed to pull off a really good identity switch and he discovered a way to fool the bio data for the tracking fob.”

“What did he do? Surgically alter his face or something?” It sounds like something a villain from a bad holoprogram would do.

Din chuckles, “Yes, he’s human but he had some type of skin treatment to make him look like he was Chiss, even had these special lens in his eyes that glowed red. I had to run DNA samples to verify it was him since he looked nothing like the puck.”

“How did you ever find him?” You sound impressed.

“His mother was receiving regular payments from a mining consortium on Bespin. Each month it looked like the money was coming from different accounts but it was always the same amount and it rotated perfectly between the accounts. It was too regular to not be a pattern. Besides the mother had no prior connection to Bespin nor mining, there was no reason for her to be receiving money unless he was sending it to her.”

“It’s like something out of a crime drama, ‘always follow the money’, right?” You’re clearly entertained by his story.

“Yeah, well, that got me to the mine, but then I still had to figure out who he was pretending to be.” Din explains, “I had it narrowed down to a few guys but still had to track them down and then each one ran from me, making me chase them all over the mine, I was constantly trying to avoid dangerous machinery. I guess mining attracts men who have bounties on their heads.”

“You didn’t get hurt, did you?” Your concern for his well-being is sweet.

“Nah, I’m fine. Maybe a few bruises.” He shrugs, it’s nothing he can’t handle.

“You’re sure? Do you need bacta or anything?” You offer.

“I’m good.” Din replies, “But, um, if you felt like cooking dinner, I wouldn’t say no to that. Only if you feel like it. All I’ve had are ration bars the last few days.” He admits this sheepishly to you. Din doesn’t want to take advantage of your kindness but you really are a much better cook than he is and he does enjoy the way you fuss over him about eating healthy.

“Of course,” you say pleasantly and head down to the galley.

When you return, you have a tray with a bowl of soup, one of the meat pies, a salad, some sliced fruit and a cup of tea for him. It’s way more than he needs, but he appreciates your thoughtfulness and worry that he hasn’t eaten enough. He notes that you even made him the tea that he likes but that you don’t seem to care for, which means you must have made it special just for him. That thought alone is enough to make him smile and, after you’ve set down the tray on the console, he finds himself reaching out to take your hand. You seem a bit startled by this but you don’t say anything.

“I just wanted to say thank you,” Din tries to make his voice sound as warm as he can through the modulator, “for all that you do for me.”

“It’s my pleasure, Mando,” you tell him, your own voice sounding warm and sincere.

He gives your hand a little squeeze, and tells you, “You’re such a good friend.” He watches your face falter a bit at those words and you release his hand.

“I hope you enjoy your dinner.” You smile at him again, but this smile doesn’t reach your eyes. He barely has a chance to register it though because you’re already moving past him, scooping up the kid, and heading back down the ladder swiftly.

Shit, what did I do wrong? Din can’t figure out what could have changed your demeanor. Maybe squeezing her hand was too much? He sighs to himself and hopes he hasn’t upset you in some way. He listens for a moment and he can hear you chatting happily to the child so it can’t be too bad. His stomach growls and remembering his hunger, he turns back to the feast you’ve brought him. He hates to admit it but the meat pie is good even if it did come from stupid handsome Riva.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Crucival may be considered a backwater, but it has its own beauty in soft rolling hills and small wooded areas, and even several wild flowers, if Din remembers correctly. After yesterday evening though, he knows he wants to see a real smile on your face again and so he decides to head straight for the lake, knowing it’s the best feature this little break has to offer. Turns out that was the smart move because as soon as he lowers the Crest’s ramp, your entire face lights up with delight at the sparkling water. It’s a sunny day and warm without being too hot, a perfect day to spend at the lake. He chuckles as, just like the kid, you race down the ramp straight for the little sandy beach. Before he’s even off the ship, you two are already wading at the water’s edge. He watches as you help the kid get his robe off, allowing the little guy to splash around in the buff. He feels a wide smile break out on his face at how much fun the kid’s having. There’s a small group of shady trees at the water’s edge and Din settles himself underneath them where he can watch the two of you. He’s surprised though when you suddenly bring the child back to him.

“The water’s so warm, I going to go put on my swim suit.” You tell him excitedly. “The kiddo can be a nudist, but that’s not my style.” You give him a wink and jog back to the ship.

The little guy squirms in Din’s arms and makes small whining sounds indicating that he wants to be back in the water. Din looks down at himself and he feels a little out of place in all of his armor and protective layers.

“Give me a couple minutes, pal,” he tells the child as begins to remove his armor and strip down to his base layers. After a bit, he’s down to just his helmet, trousers, and undershirt, and he’s finally ready to take the kid back to the lake when Din sees you coming back. All his movements come to a grinding halt as he watches you saunter over to him. Your swimsuit shows off your all your curves beautifully and you look so gorgeously sexy that all he can do is stare at you. He watches you dumbly as you reach for the squirming child who is getting increasingly impatient and he sees your mouth moving, but it’s as if there’s a short circuit in his brain and he has no idea what you’re saying.

“Mando?” You must have asked him something.

“Yes” He just agrees blindly hoping that’s the right answer. It seems to be, because you’re giving him that incredibly bright smile of yours and saying, “Alright, let’s go.”

You tug his arm to make him move and head back to the water. He follows after you and the child, but stops to wade in the shallow water at the shore, while you swim out a bit further, holding onto the child. He watches as the two of you float and swim, laughing in delight.

“Well, aren’t you coming in?” You call out to him.

“I’m still in my clothes.” Din doesn’t own a swimsuit, never has.

“So? They can get wet. Or I guess you could take them off.” Your voice has a playfulness he hasn’t heard before. You’re teasing him, and it’s clear you don’t think he’ll ever take off his clothes to come swimming.

Din might spend most of his time with his skin fully covered, but he’s not shy about his body. In fact, your teasing tone makes him want to rise to your challenge, and so he reaches for the hem of his shirt and slowly pulls it off. When he glances back at you, he can see he has your complete attention and your mouth has fallen open a bit. Good, Din wants you to look, he likes the idea of you watching him undress. He moves to unbutton and unzip his trousers next, before pushing them down and letting them fall to the sand. He heads into the water now only in his black boxer briefs and his helmet. You can’t seem to tear your eyes away from him, at least until the child sends a large splash of water into your face.

“He got you good,” Din chuckles at the sight of your face dripping with water as he swims up to you.

“Uh, y-yeah,” you stammer out. It appears you’re rather flustered from his impromptu strip tease on the shore and you seem to be trying very hard to keep your eyes on his visor, but he sees you taking little peeks down at his naked chest.

“It’s alright, you can look.” Din tells you cheekily and loves it when you gasp in response. He looks down at your chest too where he’s rewarded with the sight of your cleavage, enhanced by the glistening water running down your skin. Teasing you a bit further, he says, “Besides, I’m certainly enjoying the view myself.”

“Mando!” You’re trying to make it sound like you’re scandalized, but the way your eyes are shining and the fact that you’re still smiling tell him you’re enjoying this as much as he is. Not wanting to push too far though, he turns his attention to the child.

“C’mon pal, let’s practice kicking.” Din holds the little one’s arms as he floats on his tummy and you both watch as he kicks his little legs hard churning up the water. Din moves through the water helping the child gain momentum as he kicks. The child grins up at him in delight and Din’s glad he decided to come swimming.

The three of you have a delightful time in the lake and you stay in the water until your fingers and toes are pruney, only finally coming out because you can tell the child will need to eat soon or you’ll be dealing with a cranky toddler instead of a giggling one.

“Oh, I forgot to grab towels.” You’re saying as you make your way back onto the little beach.

“That’s ok,” Din replies, “You can just use my cape to dry off and the kid and I will air dry.” He’s already stretching out in the sun. You glance down at him, but then suddenly turn away with your hand to your mouth and hurry over to find his cape. Din looks down at himself and realizes that now that his boxer briefs are wet, everything is more on display than before. He chuckles to himself and hopes you weren’t too shocked, but also, he can’t help himself from thinking, I hope she liked what she saw.  

When you return you’re carrying some towels, a blanket and bag that looks to be full of food. Din watches as you demurely keep your head turned and toss him a towel before helping the child dry off more. Then you spread out a blanket and proceed to set up a huge picnic for the three of you. He notices you’re dividing up the food so that it’s on two opposite edges of the blanket.

“I thought maybe if we sat back-to-back it would be OK for us to eat together. I’ll keep the child on my lap and there’s no one else around who could see you, so it should be safe. What do you think?” You ask him.

“Yeah, that will work.” Din’s touched that you’ve thought of a way for the three of you to share a meal together in some fashion. He knows there aren’t many settlements around, so he figures he can push the helmet up and leave it atop his head while he eats. It will be easy enough to drop it back down quickly if necessary.

He waits until you get settled on the blanket with the kid, and then sits down behind you. He leans back against your body, forgetting that your swimsuit has left your back almost entirely bare and now he can feel your warm skin from your hips to your shoulders pressed against his. The sensation is so incredible for him that he feels like he can’t breathe. He doesn’t remember the last time someone touched this much of his skin. What he told you before was true, he has had lovers, but it’s been a very long time since he’s taken off more than what was absolutely necessary for those encounters. And despite the fact that there’s nothing truly sexual about the way that you’re touching him now, it’s intimate for him. He tries to eat but each time one of you moves all he can focus on is the feeling of your skin brushing his. He knows you’re trying to have a conversation with him, but he keeps losing track of the topic.

“Is everything OK, Mando?” You seem to have noticed how quiet he’s being.

“Yeah, just, uh, enjoying the sound of your voice.” In trying not to saying anything about how much he likes touching you, he lets that admission slip out unwarranted.

“Oh, thank you. I hope I haven’t been too chatty.” You sound pleased but a little self-conscious from his compliment. “I know you must be used to silence when you eat, and I hope I didn’t bother you.”

“Of course not. It’s been interesting.” He figures that’s safe enough for him to say so he doesn’t have to admit that he’s been too physically distracted to really pay attention to your words.

“I am starting to get a bit tired though, how about we take a nap, little guy?” You’re addressing the child now. The kid is not pleased with this proposal, however, and he lets out an unhappy, whiny sound.

“I can take him back in the water if you’d like to rest,” Din suggests. He knows you’ve been on full-blown caregiver duty for days now and he did intend for this little sojourn to be a rest for you.

“Would you? That sounds great.” He can hear the relief in your voice. Slipping his helmet back on, he cleans up his side of the picnic before coming around to pick up the kid, and he notices the grateful look in your eyes. Din leaves you to your nap, only glancing back once to see you bunching up his cape to use as a pillow. The gesture makes him chuckle and he’s glad he could give you some time to yourself.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next morning, the weather has turned somewhat and there’s a cooler breeze blowing. It’s not a great day for swimming, but, Din thinks with a smile, it will be perfect for self-defense training with you. When he tells you this plan after breakfast, he’s hoping you’re up for it.

“Yes, I think it’s a good idea,” you respond to his suggestion, “Thank you for offering, Mando, I would like to learn some more moves.”

“Good” He doesn’t try to hide his enthusiasm at sharing some of his knowledge with you. Din knows he can’t be with you at all times and the more you can protect yourself the less he will worry. In anticipation of you agreeing to training, he’s forgone his armor today, save the helmet of course.

After a careful explanation to the child about how you’ll both be pretend fighting and a warning that he is to stay in your sight at all times, Din and you are ready to begin. He starts by explaining four main areas of weakness that can allow you to inflict damage with minimal effort: the stomach, the instep, the nose, and the groin. He also points out other areas, like knees and ankles, that can be weakened fairly quickly allowing you to escape. Then he takes you through some basic movements that are easy but effective. He’s sure to teach moves that will work with either your arms or your legs in case your attacker has incapacitated one or the other.

“What if I can’t move my arms or my legs?” You ask in a worried voice.

“Well, then use that big brain of yours to try and talk your way out of things.” Din knows that wasn’t the answer you were looking to get, but he hopes the teasing compliment will distract you from any worse case scenarios you can imagine.

“Gee, thanks,” you respond, but you’re smirking at him so he knows it was a good tactic.

“Let’s try it all out now. I’ll pretend to attack you and you try to escape. But uh, maybe don’t try any of the nose moves because the beskar will just hurt your hand.” Din says.

“Got it, nose off-limits for this.” You nod, but then give him a sassy look, “What about the groin?”

“Look, do what you need to, but I would appreciate it if that’s not your primary target every time,” he says. You just laugh in response to that, and before you realize it, Din is attacking you head on.

“Hey, wait, I wasn’t ready,” you protest as Din’s arms grab yours tightly.

“I know, so what’re you gonna do about it?” He’s smirking at you until you manage to kick his shin hard and then his ankle. It’s not enough to make him let go, but it does hurt. “Alright, good, keep trying.”

It takes you a few attempts, but eventually you manage to break free from his hold. He makes you practice several times, changing up his angle of attack as he goes to keep the element of surprise. After each little session, he gives you advice to help you improve and he praises you for the good hits you managed to land. Finally, you’re pleading with him for a break and some water. He gives in and you walk over to the child to check on him. The little one has been amazingly good this whole time, playing with a couple of his toys and looking up every so often to watch the entertainment you’re both providing.

Din has been enjoying himself immensely. Although you’ve probably given him a few new bruises, he’s proud of how well you listened to his teaching and genuinely pleased by the quick progress you’ve made. Plus, he’s thankful you’ve tactfully avoided hitting him in the groin thus far. Although he’s given you permission to use what he’s taught you, he’d rather not have any bruising there. As you turn to head back over to the patch of grass where you’ve been training, Din realizes your guard is still down, so it’s a perfect opportunity for him to surprise you again. Only this time he misjudges his speed and strength as he’s a little too excited at the idea of catching you unaware and he ends up tackling you to the ground.

“Mando!” You let out a surprised yelp as you scramble in the grass with Din on top of you. He pushes himself up on his arms, but all this serves to do is make him more aware of your position as now he’s looking down at you, under him. It sends a hot feeling of pure lust through his chest and stomach, which ends up right between his legs at the precise moment you choose to arch your back and brush your hips up against his. So much for avoiding his groin. Your move is purely instinctual, Din thinks, an attempt to try to move him off of you. But the friction feels too good and he can’t stifle the groan that escapes his throat. Without thinking, he pushes his hips into yours, grinding himself against you. It isn’t until he sees your eyes widen and you let out a gasp, that he finally comes to his senses and jumps off of you as fast as he can. His face heats up under the helmet, as embarrassment washes over him. He knows you must have felt how hard he is for you right now, how could you not? He’d almost rather you had punched him there instead.

“I- I’m sorry, I d-didn’t mean to uh knock you down.” Din is stumbling over his words as he’s trying to regain control over himself. He realizes too late that you’re still sprawled on the ground and that if he were any type of gentleman he should offer to help you up. Awkwardly he reaches out a hand to you and helps you to your feet, but he’s afraid of touching you for too long so he drops your hand the second you’re upright, terrified that he’ll do or say something else stupid. Shit! What did I just do? I should apologize more, right? But what the hell do I say?

“Are you OK? Did I hurt you? I’m really sorry, really, that was stupid of me, I-” Din is babbling now but he can’t think of the right words to say. I’m sorry for rutting into you like a horny jerk?

“It’s ok, Mando, I’m alright. I’m not hurt.” You’re laughing it off and brushing some grass out of your hair. “You just surprised the hell out of me.”

“I didn’t mean to come at you that hard-” Din tries to explain but then realizes that your eyes flick down just for a second at the word hard. He’s still very obviously aroused and clearly, you’re aware of that. All of his bravado from yesterday is gone and he doesn’t care if you like what you see, he just wants you to not despise him.

“Mando, really, I’m fine. You don’t need to worry. But maybe that’s enough training for the day.” You’re being very magnanimous about the situation, in his opinion. You have every right to be angry with him, but instead you give him a reassuring smile and a little pat on the arm. “I learned a lot, and again, I appreciate you teaching me.”

You turn toward the child and head over to him, saying “Hey buddy, feel like going for a walk?” The baby coos up at you in delight and reaches his arms up to you indicating that he wants to be carried for this ‘walk’.

Great, she can’t wait to get away from me. Din lets a new wave of shame wash over him, but he can’t blame you for wanted some space right now.

You surprise him though when you say, “C’mon Mando, let’s go explore this place a bit more.”

“You want me to come along?” He doesn’t believe he heard you correctly.

“Yes, of course,” you say warmly, “Unless you’re too worn out from my excellent new defensive moves to walk?” You voice has a teasing lilt to it again, and he’s relieved to know you don’t seem to be mad at him. He feels better and is thankful you seem to accept his apology.

“You’re going to have to do a lot more to me than that before I’m too tired to walk.” He responds smugly as he comes over to join you.

You turn to face him, and with a gleam in your eye and a little smirk on your lips, you say, “Oh, I’m sure I can think of a few things I could do that would tire you out.”

Once again, Din is thankful for his helmet as there is no way to hide the utter shock on his face at your words. Are you flirting with him? Could it be possible that you’re interested in him in that way? He tells himself that he’s being ridiculous and that he needs to get a grip on his hormones. He takes a deep breath and wills himself to calm down.

You’re too busy laughing to notice his inner turmoil, and when you finally catch your breath, you say, “I couldn’t resist saying that, you set me up so perfectly.”

He laughs with you letting it break the tension he’s feeling, telling you, “Yeah, you’re hilarious.” So you were only joking. That’s good to know. You’re probably just trying to put him at ease and smooth over any awkwardness.

“Let’s head this way,” you gesture with a point of your finger and give him another smile.

Din walks with you and the child along the lakeshore following a small path that leads up a hill. When you reach the top, you’re rewarded with a view of a field of wildflowers swaying gently in the breeze on one side and a view of the soft blue waters of the lake on the other. The clouds have thinned out leaving a bright blue sky with the sun streaming down; all together, it’s a picturesque sight.  

“Oh this is so pretty,” you sigh happily, “I’m so glad you brought us here, Mando.” The child also makes a contented cooing sound.

“I’m pleased you’re enjoying it.” Din tells you softly. As pretty as the view is, he only has eyes for your face. The evident joy you have in seeing this simple landscape pulls at his heart and he wishes there were a way for him to give you this feeling every day. The emotion he’s feeling grows when he feels you slip your hand into his. You don’t say anything at first, you just remain there holding his hand and looking out at the view for a moment.

You squeeze his hand before you let go and say, “Thank you for this, bringing me to Crucival. It’s a lovely place. You’re a good friend to me too, Mando.”

Your words echo his from a few nights ago, but there’s something about hearing you call him a friend that disappoints him. It’s not enough, he realizes, he wants to be more than a friend to you. It’s a dangerous thought.

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Thank you for reading! Keep reading: Chapter 4: A Fairly Indecent Proposal 

Please let me know if you’d like to be tagged in future chapters.

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[lin-nin]

Tribulation & Tenderness - Chapter 11

Ship: Main Technoblade x Reader, some Dream x Reader

Plot:    You're a princess in a Kingdom suffering a years long famine. In a    desperate attempt to help your people, you accept one simple offer:   Marriage to the crown prince of a neighboring kingdom. Anything to help    your people survive. Surely it can't be too bad, can it?

Chapter List: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 Disclaimer:   Cross-posted on Wattpad (discontinued) and Ao3. This is based off of everyone's CHARACTERS. I do not write fanfic based off the actual people.

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Chapter 11: All’s Fair In Love And War

< | Previous Chapter

You excitedly trailed after Techno as he led you towards the courtyard, grin splitting your face. He looked back at you and chuckled, head shaking. You probably seemed like a whole different person, but you were full of a childlike giddiness you didn’t normally carry. The worn out area was a little disturbed from Wilbur and Tommy earlier, but you didn’t pay it much mind. You were just excited to have the chance to learn to fight.

“How much combat knowledge do you have, exactly?” Techno asked as he came to stand on the flattened grass. He unbuckled the belt holding his sword, tossing it towards the side. Out of the way, since there was no way it would be used now of all times.

“Absolutely none, I have my instincts,” You mumbled sheepishly, offering a grin as you came to stand across from him.

“Alright, put your dagger with my sword. We’re gonna focus on hand-to-hand first.” He pushed up the sleeves of his shirt, watching you take the dagger away from your waist. You sat it atop his sword, fidgeting nervously. You were vastly inexperienced, especially when compared to Techno and you knew that. This was going to be a mess.

“Where do we start?” You looked to him for guidance, feeling lost as you stood across from him. He watched you for a few moments, before motioning you towards him.

“Come at me.” His voice was flat, and he didn’t even seem to be taking it seriously. Then again, you weren’t much of a threat. Taking it too seriously might end up hurting.

“What?” You stammered, tilting your head. You eyed him up, trying to find something to go on. It wasn’t exactly easy.

“Try and hit me. I’ll correct you as we go.” Just like that? Just hit him? You chewed your lip, eyebrow furrowing as you tried to figure out what the best approach would be. You didn’t know how to do this. This was going to be so embarrassing. You pushed the stress aside. You wouldn’t learn if you didn’t try. Your gaze focused on his side, and you darted forward. You raised a hand to hit his side, only for him to entirely sidestep you and smack your hand away.

“Don’t be so obvious,” He stated, an eyebrow raising. You gave a frustrated huff, turning on your heel to swing on him again. He dodged once more backing away from you. He didn’t smack your hand away this time, prompting you to keep pushing forward. You swung on him a few more times, finally prompting him to widen his stance. He began countering the swings easily, eyes flicking over you rapidly.

“Better. Fast is good,” he began. He caught one of your hands, simultaneously kicking your feet out from under you. The wind was knocked out of you as your back collided with the ground, a groan shortly following. That was definitely going to hurt in a few hours time. “Speed is nothing without a proper stance and posture.”

He leaned down over you, offering a hand and pulling you up to your feet. You grunted with the effort, stumbling ever so slightly. “You never said we could use our feet,” You grumbled, shaking your head.

“All’s fair in love and war,” he mused, putting his foot between your own. “Come on, fix your stance.” He positioned your feet as needed, before coming around you. “Center your weight, and stay grounded. Don’t put all of your weight to your feet, though. It’ll only slow you down and make you an easy target.” As he spoke he positioned your shoulders slightly, making sure everything was proper in your stance.

“You’re smaller than most people you’d spar with here, so use your size to your advantage.” He rounded back to the front of you, staring at you for a few moments. He gave an approving hum, and no sooner than that were you launching yourself at him. You took the words to heart, trying to keep yourself light on your feet. Fighting was much harder than you had originally anticipated.

You did manage to land a few actual hits on him, though it was nothing compared to the number of times he countered you. It was only a matter of time before he was grounding you again, making you groan once again. That was going to do more than hurt in the morning. You were going to be so sore, but you had a feeling you would need to get used to it. Techno didn’t strike you as the type to have a day off when teaching something like this.

“Don’t fall into a routine, it makes you predictable and easy to down. You need to be spontaneous,” He was lecturing you again, only to lean down and offer his hand to you once more. You warily eyed the hand, reaching up to grab it. However, instead of letting him pull you up, you tugged down. You used your leg to kick at his feet, grinning successfully as it knocked him off balance. He lurched forward, falling onto you and only managing to barely catch himself on his forearm.

“Spontaneous enough for you?” You taunted, giving him a shit eating grin. He blinked down at you, as if processing what had just happened. At the same time, it really seemed to click what you had just done as well. Heat rushed to your face, your stomach flipping slightly. His ponytail was swung over his shoulder, hanging beside your face. The necklaces he wore brushed against your chest, the chains on his glasses mere centimeters from your face. You were close. Too close. He furrowed his brows, eyes darting nervously to the side. The faintest shade of pink dusted the apples of his cheeks as he moved, pushing himself off the ground and away from you.

“Perhaps a bit too spontaneous,” He murmured, hesitantly offering his hand again. You took it, letting him pull you up to your feet again.

“All’s fair in love and war?” You managed, offering him a feeble smile. He huffed out laughter, shaking his head and taking up his stance again.

“So it seems. Come on, we’re not finished.” You were quick to fall back into the pattern of striking at him, taking care to not get too into a routine. You tried to not think too hard, attempting to rely on instinct. You did note he was more wary in his movements, seeming to hit harder and not give you a chance to wind up in a compromising position again. You didn’t mind, though. It was almost embarrassing to think about, you weren’t too sure you could handle another moment like that.

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Dream Focal Point

The commons of the capital weren’t entirely unknown to Dream. He had spent quite a fair amount of time here, even if he stood out. He was set out for one place, a house down a beaten path, away from the rest. He didn’t bother knocking on the worn door, simply pushing it open. It creaked to signal his arrival, thumping shut behind him. The house was small, dimly lit. A rickety table was off to the side, and behind it was a figure running a stone over a sword. The figure glanced up at Dream’s arrival, raising a single black eyebrow.

“I have a job for you,” He stated, pulling out a bag. He tossed it onto the table, where it landed heavily. A gloved hand shot out, pulling on the strings to look inside. The figure whistled, looking back towards Dream.

“You’ve never paid this much before, Dream. Let alone up front. What sort of suicide job do you have me on?” They leaned back in the seat, light from the dusty window illuminating his face. Stubble lined his jaw, a white strip of cloth seared at the ends was tied around his forehead, black bangs spilling over it. Brown eyes were full of curiosity, no doubt intrigued by the amount of money being presented to him.

“I want you to come with me to the wedding, as a guard,” Dream started slowly, gauging the reaction.

“The wedding? George’s little sister’s wedding? The love of your life’s wedding?” He clarified, making Dream grimace. The dagger hit the table, the man clearly growing more interested.

“Yes, Sapnap. That exact wedding.” Dream increasingly grew frustrated, far from fond of the words. He hated when things were put so bluntly, but his friend never cared to dance around that fact.

“As a guard? Are you worried they’re going to hurt you?”

“No, it’s just a disguise. I need you to get her back to me, no matter the cost. She said she’d come back if anything happened.”

“Even if it means hurting her or putting her in danger?”

“I would prefer she didn’t get hurt, but if she has to be, she has to be. I need her back.”

“You claim to love her but you’d just let me hurt her to get her back. You’re fucking crazy, man,” Sapnap laughed humorlessly, head shaking.

“All’s fair in love and war, Sapnap. Are you in or not?” Dream placed his hands on the table, fully prepared to take the gold back. He could do this on his own, but it would be so much easier if he had help from someone who was unrecognizable.

Sapnap thumbed through the coins in the back, sighing and shaking his head. “I’m in, but you’re a crazy son of a bitch, you know that? This better be fucking worth it.” He snatched the bag closer to him, and Dream only grinned.

“If you’re successful, I’ll pay you more,” Dream promised, green eye sparkling with an almost sadistic joy. “Just make sure your parents don’t find out.” With the words, he turned on his heel. He walked out of the house, a smug grin on his face. Finally, maybe he could get what he wanted.

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