#body oil that makes your sweat smell good is crazy work

[selkielore]

officine universelle buly body oils are so crazy. I got one for christmas from my brother and his wife bc they went on a trip to paris and i put it on after my bath last night bc i’ve been using it as my special treat lotion like when i’m feeling like i need an extra boost or it’s a special occasion. and this morning i went to the gym and got all sweaty and when i finished i could literally smell tuberose wafting off me. i guess my sweat and natural body oils just rehydrated the scent or something.

[theficblog]

LITTLE LADY

LEE MINHYUNG

Prologue: Taking your grandma’s old car to the mechanic can offer you some fun, all you have to do is to just drop hints

Genre: Suggestive + Car mechanic Mark

Wordcount: 951

Prompt: "All you get is me. I can’t promise you more than that."

Warnings: Suggestive content [ body descriptions ]

"I recall going to the movies with your grandfather every Saturday night back in our younger days. This car has witnessed all our good and bad times." Your grandmother gushed about the old, red convertible. It sure would have been opulent in its day, but it now only qualified as vintage.

You entered it and examined its state; some pieces were rusty, while others were dusty. All you could hope for was for this vehicle to function at all until it arrived at the mechanic. It would not have been pleasant to be stranded on the streets of this small town with a car that had broken down.

It took you a decent amount of time to reach the only garage in this little town. It wasn't too fancy, standing right at the corner of a street, with a few men working with greased tools, sweating, dressed in grey overalls. This place oddly smelled of gasoline and oil, rather musty. 

One of the guys approached you and your vintage red convertible, 'Little Lady', the way your grandparents preferred it. But it seemed as if it was not the time to be focusing on the Little Lady, but on the man that stood right in front of you.

He looked to be in his early twenties, and his sweat-soaked hair was held back by a black headband to keep it from streaming over his face. His clothing, an overall with no shirt inside, was the only thing that covered his torso. His arms were already toned, and the mechanical activities he did here simply added to that. It was not the right time to be thinking about a silly automobile.

"How can I help you?" He asked, his gaze piercing straight into yours, a little smile taking over his face. "Excuse me?" He waved his hand on receiving no response from you. 

"Umm. Yeah. Hello. I need you to, this Little Lady, fix it." Words undoubtedly came out of your mouth, but perhaps the brain was not involved, because you blurted them out without thinking, leading the guy to smile, which he concealed with a pursed mouth.

"This car." You drew a nod from him by pointing. He took a step forward and bent to inspect the vehicle. It was deep enough for your sight to peep under his baggy clothing. He was sweating till as far as your eyes could reach. His abdomen muscles were impressive, and so was his chest. The belt of his Calvin Kleins acted like the icing on the cake.

"Thirty minutes." He got back up. "You could leave it here and collect it back, or you could-" 

"I'll wait, yeah." You spoke before he finished his sentence. This man was driving you crazy.

A few minutes later, you were sitting on the chair, the only one in the garage that seemed decent enough to place your butt on. Maybe it was not often that the customers stopped by and waited. But you had to wait because, firstly, there was no way you could drive back and secondly, and more importantly, you were not by any chance going to miss this eye candy.

It was not your fault entirely. You could not even remember the last time you got decently laid, and certainly not ever since you had been in your grandma's town. "When possibilities present themselves, seize them." That's what everyone teaches, and you were preaching it right here.

When your attention returned to the man, he was absorbed in his work, completely oblivious to how desperate he was making you feel. If it had been up to you, you would have rushed towards him, ripped his clothes to shreds, and dragged him closer. However, you were never in charge of your own life.

"Mark, pass me the air jack, mate." Someone voiced from the other side. Mark. His name was Mark. 

It was manageable right before he started working on the other side, bending again, as if simply standing was not enough, this time giving you the view from the back. Maybe you were jealous, his ass game was way better than yours, you were too engrossed in staring at it, taking no notice of the time. 

Shit! You mentally cursed yourself, there he caught you. He looked at you with a questionable eye and his mouth was left open. On the other hand, you had an inexplicable expression on your face.

-

The garage was empty now, all the other men that had been working had left for their meals already, leaving only the Mark guy working alone. 

You reached back to the car, where Mark was working. "You promised me this car in about thirty minutes." You inquired as you leaned against the Little Lady. The query was more of a pretext to speak with him.

"All you get is me. I can’t promise you more than that." Mark reverted back, with a smirk on his face. Was he flirting right now? Or was he just making fun of you for acting so needy and dropping all the hints?

"There you go." He handed the keys back to you. Grabbing your wrist and placing the metal keys onto your palm.

Normally, it would have taken less than five seconds for this act, but Mark was deliberately slower, brushing his fingers, tracing them from all the way to your palm to the tip of your fingers, maintaining incessant eye contact. His eyes were dark, and they were filled with lust, much like yours. 

Little Lady must have seen the highs and lows of life and romantic movie dates, but there was still some filthy experience it lacked. You and Mark fulfilled it that afternoon. 

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[chocolateheart]

Door number 12

Title: Door Number 12

Word count: 7937 (I know, I'm sorry)

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Summary: A noisy neighbour is bringing you a lot of emotions. What if this bubbling tension and frustration will finally find their way out?

Warnings: 18+, smut, unprotected sex (please, wrap it before you tap it), creampie, fingering, handjob, pinning to the wall, clothes tearing, biting, scratching, a lot of kissing, strong eye contact, sex noises, tension, some swearing, noisy neighbour, arguing, stealing food, property damage, I don't know, porn?

Bingo Square Filled: Neighbour AU for @spnmixedbingo

A/N: Yes, another porn. Please, don't judge me, I couldn't help it. I won't say much, that fic just sorta happened. I hope you'll like it! Enjoy babes!

A/N: As always huge huge huge THANK YOU to my dear beta, angel and Queen @winchest09 for giving this piece a look. Love you Tabbs <3 Still, mistakes are mine!

A/N: The gorgeous divider designed by incredibly talented @talesmaniac89 <3

Throwing your bag on the counter along with your keys, a deep sigh left your chest. You numbly looked around your apartment as you began to take off your jewellery. Why did this place always look like a pigsty every time you got back home? Your necklace and bracelet joined your bag when you tossed them to one side as a yawn escaped you.

This day was exhausting, to say the least. Maybe your work wasn’t that demanding but sometimes it was just tiring to the point where you wanted to cry. After shrugging your jean jacket off, your feet took you to the couch and you just collapsed down on it with a pained grunt. Your body was stiff and aching, your head was pounding from pain and as soon as you felt a pillow under it, your will to stay awake had started to fade. You knew you shouldn’t take a nap now as there was still so much left to do today, but for god's sake, it was Friday evening and you had been working for the past 5 days at top speed. An hour of rest was something you definitely deserved.

Without standing up, you lifted your hips to take off your jeans and wrapped yourself in the blanket you always kept on the couch. Relaxing your body with a deep breath, you closed your eyes, already halfway to dreamland. But as soon as you felt yourself drifting completely, a loud sound of guitar suddenly sounded in your ears, making your eyes snap open.

No, not again!

Fisting the pillow, you felt the anger growing as you knew exactly where the loud rock music was coming from; recognising the band as AC/DC. When the volume increased, you hid your head underneath the pillow, desperate to cut off your aching skull from the noise. But it didn’t work, the sound still bleeding through the cushion. It didn’t take you a minute to shoot up on straight legs and pull on your sweats while marching towards the front door.

Mumbling inappropriate words, you entered the staircase for your building and immediately went down; hearing the power of the music increasing with every step you took. You found yourself on a floor below, with your jaw and hands clenched, eyes glued to door number 12 as you approached it. Once you stood in front of it, you lifted one of your fists and hit the hard on the wood a few times, ready to murder the person on the other side. Of course he made you wait till the song ended, causing you to repeat the punching a couple of times.

When the door finally opened, you were fuming with anger, eyes shooting lightnings towards the tall man on the opposite side of the doorstep.

"I swear to god, Winchester," you hissed through gritted teeth, a loud melody almost muffling your words. "If you won't turn that down, I will physically harm you." Your threatening pulled a laugh from him which only acted as another oil drop to the fire.

"Sweetheart you can't do anything to me," he said, leaning on the doorframe with his arms crossed on this broad chest. "Besides, I don't understand what your problem is." Dean shrugged as if nothing had happened, making your brows shoot up.

"You don't understand?! This music is driving me crazy!" You took a deep breath and while not breaking the strong eye contact you had with him, you started to enlighten him on what exactly was wrong. "I’ve had a terrible day, no, week actually. Everything hurts, my head is pounding and this music is shaking my walls which in turn, is not letting me sleep. So if you could be so nice and turn that off because I swear on what's holy, if I lose my goddamn mind, your name will be the first one I'm gonna mention once they ask me how I ended up in mental hospital." Words just slipped out of you in one unbreakable line and you took shuddering breath after, composing yourself.

However, the smug smirk didn’t leave your neighbour's face; he didn’t give a damn about your monologue. After you finished, he only put a hand on your shoulder and delivered his response.

"It's a Friday evening and we live in a free country. There’s no rule saying I can't listen to loud music, unless it's lights out. What's more, you're the only one who can't stand this, I don't see anyone else coming here to complain, so maybe the problem lies in you, not in me," he simply said, as he flashed you a fake, sarcastic smile and closed the door. But not before saying, "have a nice evening."

You looked up to the ceiling, asking for patience but the frustration and anger were huge. You growled, kicked Winchester's door with your socked foot and cursed, feeling pain going from your toes to the tibial bone.

On your way back to your apartment, you were mumbling out every possible, offensive name that came to your mind when you thought about that green eyed man. Your relationship had been heated ever since he moved into the building. He made your blood boil. Loud music, meetings with his friends, watching movies on full volume on his surround speakers after dark in the middle of the week, noisily cooking at midnight; even his one night stands apparently had an unfulfilled opera career.

You were having a battle with Dean, on average, twice a week. Knowing you weren’t the only one who couldn’t stand his behavior, you asked others for help, but Dean’s charm was way bigger of an opponent than you had expected. He could just use a sweet smile, say a few, flirty words with this deep voice and Ann from the end of the hall would walk on wobbly legs with stupid smile on her face for the next four days.

You couldn’t really blame her, the man was ridiculously attractive but you were looking past it. Dean was an annoying asshole and the only reason you had not yet clawed out his eyes was the fact that visiting the jail wasn’t exactly a wooing thought.

Shutting your door behind you, you leaned against it and ‘Sweet Child O’ mine’ came on. You growled once again, hit your wooden barricade with your head and looked down, trying to find calmness in your floor. Once you stopped radiating fury, knowing that the person below won't let you rest for at least two more hours, you chose the second drawer in your kitchen, searching for painkillers. If you were being made to stay up, you were gonna be productive. Swallowing two aspirin, you decided to clean the place so you could focus on college work tomorrow.

If only you could actually focus on college work.

After waking up at 8 am the next day, you opened the window on your way to the kitchen, craving coffee. It wasn’t normal for you to get up at this hour on the weekend but your finals were coming and you had way more work than you expected.

Thankfully, the weather outside was pleasant; the sun was already shining, creating morning shadows and the soft wind streamed inside your apartment, tickling your ankles as you sat at the table, eating breakfast. The smell of spring made you smile, always bringing back good memories. After the meal, you didn’t bother to change your pajamas for the actual clothes and you just took the laptop to start working on your college sheets. You were sitting with one of your legs bent, heel leaning on the chair, messy bun on your head, sipping on the second coffee while listening to the birds singing happily outside. Words were flooding out of you, making you feel certain that it wouldn’t take you long to be done with your essays. But that blissful moment was cut short when a loud rumble of a car’s engine resonated under your building, causing you to jerk in your chair and almost spill your drink.

Recognizing it straight away, you looked up, trying your best to not get angry again but as the sound of his loud engine revving l continued, you smacked the table with your palm and stood up. As you leaned on your window sill and gazed out, you spotted black, slick Chevrolet with the driver's door, trunk and hood open. Tools were scattered around the vehicle, a jean clothed leg was sticking out from the inside and you greeted your teeth, knowing who that was.

“Hey!” you yelled out, not caring if probably half of the residents could hear you. “I’m trying to study here!”

Dean peeked out and up at you, smiled and got out of the car, leaning his elbow on the hood in a nonchalant way.

“Good morning to you too,” he said and flashed you the oh-so-charming smile.

“It would be good if you didn’t interrupt it with your loud junker,” you spat back, leaning on the window frame and smiled when his face fell; he hated it when someone insulted his Baby, and you were very much aware of that. “Now, could you please lower your generic volume because I have a lot to do and you’re the last thing I want to deal with today.”

“Nobody tells you to. I’m minding my business, you go mind yours, I ain’t stopping you.” He gestured towards you with his grease covered hand.

“No, but your car is making noise that shakes all the dishes in my cabinet.”

He just shrugged and you narrowed your eyes, seeing that he didn’t care about whatever your problem was. “Then I suggest closing the window.”

After saying that, he dived inside the vehicle and seconds later you heard the strong twang of a guitar. Again. This man was very successful in making you hate rock music. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, stopping yourself from throwing a flowerpot at him; only because it was a very nice pot and you were emotionally attached to it.

“I need fresh air! I’m not gonna close the window! Turn that off!” you screamed, but he only frowned and pointed to his ear.

“Sorry sweetheart, can’t hear you!” You could see the smile dancing on his lips and you really wanted to break something on his head. “The music is too loud!”

Clenching your jaw you gave up. Another defeat, but it wasn’t the war you lost; it was just a battle and he was yet to feel your comeback. Showing him your middle finger, you closed the window and went to the bathroom, not being able to hear the soft chuckle that left him.

Maybe to an outsider, Dean’s behavior wasn’t such a big deal, but the longer he acted like that, the more annoying and tiring it was becoming. You couldn’t focus on basic activities because he was giving you a headache in various ways and for some reason, you couldn’t just talk it through with him. Every attempt at trying to get to an understanding with him, ended up with a fight.

Winchester was just a pain in the ass.

Thankfully, he vanished before noon; his car was gone and there was a blissful silence that you made the most of, and finished the majority of what you had to do.

Surrounded by papers and books, you were sitting down on your fluffy carpet, leaning back on your couch, typing away on your laptop. Glancing at your clock again, you frowned. It’s been almost 85 minutes since you ordered pizza; your stomach was rumbling, unhappy with the fact of still being empty. Finding your phone, you dialed the pizza parlor’s number once again. Standing up, you stretched your muscles and looked outside, watching the sunset sky as you waited for someone to pick up. Finally, the lady’s voice spoke to you down the line, asking you how she could help.

“Hi, I made an order from you and I still haven’t received it? It’s been over an hour,” you explained politely, scratching the back of your head.

You didn’t like situations like that; delay was understandable, but it had been way too long. However, you hated to call someone out, you never wanted to make someone’s job harder than it already was. Giving your address to the lady so she could check where your food was, you spotted the black vehicle under the building and your brows shot up. He was home and it was still quiet; it wasn’t normal.

“Miss, the system says your order was delivered and we have a confirmation of receipt.” You frowned hearing her words as what she said was impossible.

“Are you sure? There was no delivery here.”

“Yes, I’m positive. It says someone picked up the order twenty minutes ago.” Pinching your nose, you took a deep breath.

“Could you check the address precisely, please? Maybe your driver made a mistake?” you suggested being already sure someone else got your food.

“Rosenhouse Street, building 4, apartment 12,” she read and the last number made you flinch.

“Apartment 20,” you corrected her, but she denied.

“No Miss, the order was picked up by apartment 12.” And just like that the level of your anger reached three digits in a second.

“Okay, thank you so much,” you murmured and disconnected the call without a goodbye, already storming halfway across your place, getting ready to leave.

Slamming the door, you took a very well known path downstairs and you banged on number 12 as soon as you stood in front of it. Feeling the urge to punch the person who was supposed to open, you inhaled deeply, clenching your teeth. Just... keep it cool, Y/N.

“Are you fucking kidding me?!” you growled the second Dean came into your view in his domestic clothes, wearing sweatpants and a hoodie.

“Whoa, what?” he tilted his head with an uncomprehending look.

“Listen,” you pointed a finger at him. “Loud noises, annoying car, your mean behavior, fine, okay. Screw it. But stealing food? That is childish. Can you go any lower?!”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, sweetheart,” he said with a smile dancing on his lips. “What food?”

“My pizza,” you muttered through your teeth.

“Oh, right!” He smacked his forehead, acting like he just now understood. “Yeah, pizza was great.”

“You stole it!” you exclaimed, a little too high pitched.

“No I didn’t,” Dean stated, giving you a small, I-know-better smile.

“Yes, you did. I ordered it and you just pocketed it!” You really wanted to stamp your foot like a little girl to tick your fury.

"No sweetheart, I didn’t," he said, crossing his arms and straightening his back so he could tower over you, making you look up. "The guy came in with pizza, said he's supposed to bring it here, so I paid for it and ate it."

"Oh! Because it's normal to pay for the food you didn’t order and keep it to yourself. And stop calling me sweetheart!" You puffed out irritated, making him smirk.

"You're cute when you're angry." Your face fell and you felt your palm itching. What would he do if you slapped him?

"Dean," you warned him but he chuckled.

"No, seriously." He reached to your forehead, wanting to brush it with his finger. "You have this cute, little wrinkle in the middle-"

"Don't touch me." You smacked his hand away and pointed a warning finger straight into his face. "One more action like this and you're gonna regret it," you growled out and walked away.

"So it's threatening now, huh?!" he called after you, coming out to stand in the hall.

Before you stepped on the stairs, you turned around with such a force, that your hair flipped over one of your shoulders and you showed him your middle finger. Hearing his low laugh bouncing on the wall, you scoffed annoyed as you stomped loudly going back upstairs. You swore that if you were supposed to become a murderer one day, that this man was gonna be victim number one. This whole 'lets annoy her' process would be great fuel for you to slice that slender throat of his.

Shutting the door again, you walked into the kitchen, dived in the fridge and decided to stuff yourself with pancakes. Screw Dean and his pizza, you were not going to give him satisfaction with ordering anything else tonight.

“So, he’s a confident man,” Jo stated after you told her about Winchester’s behavior.

You came to Harvelle's to grab something for Sunday dinner; they had the most delicious menu in the whole town and no one could change your mind. You were sitting with a blonde girl at the table, outside their restaurant, sipping on some light drinks Ellen had prepared for the two of you. Ash was already working on your meal in the kitchen while Jo was taking her break so she could sit with you and listen about your neighbour under the floor. It took you way longer to describe everything and you felt kind of bad for that. You weren’t the type who whined about such things and forced friends to hear about your bullshit, but now you were desperate to get it all off your chest.

“Confident asshole,” you corrected her, “I just wish he could finally get his ass kicked, you know? I can’t live with this man! He’s an arrogant, offensive, little, annoying dickhead!” you said, crossing your arms on your chest.

After a few seconds of silence, you looked up at Jo. She was watching you, clearly trying not to smile; her lips were twitching and small dimples had already appeared. You knew her long enough to know that she was all ready to tease you about this whole situation.

“What?” you barked at her and she lifted her hands in defense.

“Nothing!” She shrugged. “Just, your relationship with him seems to have been… rough since the very beginning.”

“It is! I really wanna punch him!” Jo lifted her brows, a smile breaking on her face.

“Just punch him?” The suggestion was shining in her eyes and your shoulders fell down at the subtext.

“Jo!” she started giggling when she heard your resigned tone. “Just because I’m having a heated exchange with a hot guy doesn’t mean that I wanna fuck him!”

“Oh, so you think he’s hot?” she asked innocently, taking a sip from her glass.

“Yes, but he’s an idiot and I would never let him in my panties, come on,” you scoffed as you rolled your eyes. The last thing you would ever do was having sex with this man.

“Sure.”

And you knew Jo didn’t believe you. To be honest, if you thought about it really, really hard, you weren’t sure if you believed yourself…

The door opened and Ash came out with a smile, your food packed in a thermal box.

“There you go, girl. We do not accept any complaints,” he said, winking at you and you chuckled, taking the meal from him.

“Thanks, Ash.” He saluted you and vanished as quickly as he appeared. You glanced at your phone laying on the table and sighed seeing the time. “Okay babe, I’m gonna go. School’s calling and I bothered you enough anyway.”

“Oh stop it, you’re not bothering me, don’t be stupid,” she said smiling, and hugged you tight. “Text me when you get home.”

“Sure thing.” You winked and walked backwards, watching her disappear inside the RoadHouse.

Smiling to yourself, you turned around and crossed the street. At first your thoughts were filled with Jo who could always put you in a good mood but then they gradually transitioned into someone else.

You didn’t know if it was your overworked system or what Jo had teased you about that caused Dean to stick inside your mind, but you wanted to scream; it was like he had nested in there. Not only was he disturbing your living space, but he was now invading your mental space as well. What’s more, it wasn’t exactly hard to not think about him in a nasty way, and you hated it. The truth was that he was attractive from his fluffy hair to his toes, and more than once you had caught yourself daydreaming about his hands and mouth on you.

You couldn’t help it. The way he looked was not fair and Jo made you realise that if not for his attitude, you would have slept with him a long time ago. Thankfully, in the moments you felt weakness for him, he was doing something that pissed you off to the point where you wanted to bite his head off.

You really wanted to get even with him, you had to bounce the ball. The need to bite back was so big that you stopped dead in your tracks when you saw the paint store. The bulb in your head flickered on and a devil smile angled your lips. Maybe it was a bad idea, maybe it was childish, maybe it was crossing the line, but you had suffered enough thanks to this jerk.

Buying one can of pink chalk paint, you were muting your common sense that was currently shouting at you. As the saying goes - you only live once. He wanted a fight? You were going to fight. He started to play a strong hand? You were going to do the same. He thought playing with you like that was fun? Well, you were gonna have some fun too. Besides, he wouldn’t realise immediately that the paint would easily wash off, but seeing him panic thinking that his car had been defaced was revenge enough.

With a few last strokes of a paintbrush, you were finished. Straightening your back, you looked down at your work and smiled, satisfied with pink flowers you had drawn on the black surface. They were a nice contrast and you really liked the shape. In all honesty, it kinda burned you to paint this four wheeled beauty, but it wasn’t your fault her owner was a douchebag who deserved a lesson.

The impala was parked in her usual spot, next to the building that was mostly asleep. There were no cameras and due to the late hour, the chance of someone spotting you was small. Besides, you were just a hooded figure, no one would recognise you anyway even with the dim light from a lonely lantern. It was risky, but you were too far gone in your revenge to care. It had been done and you wished you could see Dean’s face in the morning.

Gathering your things you looked around, checking to see if there was anyone you should avoid and you got back to your apartment. After closing the door, you took off your clothes, staying only in leggings and a t-shirt, and decided to make some tea. You had this weird energy bubbling inside of you and it would be a waste to not use it on college papers. Getting comfortable on your couch you started going through materials for one of your projects.

Not expecting any visitors, you jumped slightly while hearing a rapid knocking on your door an hour later. You frowned and stood up, finishing your tea on your way to the entry. What you saw on the other side almost made you smile like an idiot. Dean was boring into you with his eyes; if looks could kill, you would surely be a beautiful corpse by now. His chest was rising and falling heavily, jaw clenched to the point his cheek was twitching and you could see the slight blush coloring on his face. He was wearing his leather jacket but was also in sweats so you assumed he was about to make a quick grocery run or something.

“What the hell?!” he growled at you before you could say a word. Ohhh, he was angry.

“What?” You shrugged innocently, ignoring the weird chill that ran down your spine after hearing the vibrations of his tone.

Dean took a deep breath, doing his best to not shout out. “I wanted to go get some beer and burgers, but guess what. Someone screwed up my car. And you know what? I think it was you.”

He pointed a finger at you, holding keys in his hand. You laughed and leaned on your doorframe, ready to confront him. Satisfaction already tickled your insides, but there was one thing that you had to admit - he was hot when he was angry.

“You really think that I have nothing better to do than mess up your car?” you asked, amused by his flaring nostrils.

"Don't you fucking dare play with me like that," he said firmly, not wanting to yell. "Do you know it's property damage? You broke a law and I can easily get you in trouble."

He was fuming with anger and you were sure that if it was possible, there would be smoke coming out of his ears. You smiled and stood your ground, finding it adorable how he thought he had anything useful against you.

"You have nothing on me. No proof that I was the one who defaced your car," you started, taking two steps to stand inches away from him. "Call the cops and I'm gonna tell them all about the nuisance, the stealing, manipulation and manifestations of aggression all coming from you.”

You stared straight into his eyes, a smart smile not leaving you even for a second; feeling confident in your words. Maybe he had a point, but you weren’t empty handed. You could get punished for what you did and so could he.

“What is your problem, Y/N?!” he asked, pinching his nose, clearly irritated with you. “You keep whining, making problems out of nothing and now painting my damn car?”

“You’re not letting me live in peace!” you raised your voice. “Your loud music, loud car, loud tv, loud you in general! I can’t sleep, I can’t study, I can’t do anything because you’re always there to disturb me!”

“Then leave!” he suggested, raising his tone as well. You were taken aback; lifting your brows you blinked a few times. Was he joking?

“Leave?! Are you kidding me now?! This is my home and just a friendly reminder, I was in here first so maybe you should back off!”

“But you’re the only one having a problem with me!” he yelled, spreading his arms, highlighting the obviousness of his argument.

“Because you’re a manipulative ass! You use your charm, this fucking smile, your shining eyes, and nice language, and the whole building is yours! Even Ian from the 4th floor and he doesn't even like people!”

“Ian is a cool guy!”

“Good!”

You took a breath and opened your mouth to say something more but no words came out. Again, you were convinced that there was no way to come to an agreement with this guy. Further arguments were pointless. Looking at him you shook your head and brushed your hair to the back. The soft smile and look you gave him next, made him frown a little.

“You know what? Fuck you,” you said simply and went to close the door, but his retort didn’t let you.

“You wish.”

Freezing, you locked your eyes with his and in a split second, something shifted in the air. The atmosphere got thick and the tension you had been building for months, now came into play, kinda taking you both by surprise. Dean felt it too, you could see his expression changing. He was trying to read you, trying to understand what was buzzing between you. A part of you wanted to explain it, to show him that you already knew it was sexual tension saying ‘hi’, but as soon as you realised that, you swallowed and forced your rational mask back on.

Shaking off the urge to take steps towards him, you scoffed and sending him one last look, you shut the door without saying anything. Taking two deep breaths, you leaned your forehead on the wooden barricade and closed your eyes.

There was no way in hell you would give in and break. He had everyone else in his fist, but not you. The only person that didn’t fall under his spell, the only one that didn’t let your craving inside take better of you. Dean was still your enemy and a pain in the ass; it was a matter of honour and dignity to stay away.

However, soft knocking made your eyes snap open. No. Darting your head from the door you looked at it, knowing who was behind it but that didn’t even register when you pulled on the door-handle. Dean was supporting his body on his arms that he had placed on both sides of your door, blocking the way. He was looking at you intensely, his breathing quicker than moments ago.

You could see the exact second he made a decision. You knew he was going to do something he shouldn’t and yet, you let him close the gap between you and crush his mouth to yours, cupping your cheeks at the same time. The force he hit you with made you take steps backwards, encouraging him to come in and turn you around so you could unconsciously close the door. His grip was firm, long fingers digging in your neck as hot lips forced yours apart. But your stubbornness caused you to push him away, breaking the connection.

The look you exchanged was a mix of emotions; hate, passion, frustration, lust, confusion, hesitation. This was something completely new for you; needing him was unfamiliar, strange, but at the same time stronger than anything you had felt before when it came to Dean. There was this quiet voice telling you that it was already too late; you tasted it and you wanted it, obviously. The other voice was louder, trying to make you aware of how messed up it's gonna be after, but somehow you didn’t want to listen. Not this time.

"Fuck it."

Saying that, you approached Dean and gripping him by the back of his neck, you pulled him down for a kiss. It was sloppy and deep, all teeth and tongues. He inhaled through his nose, bending down when your nails clawed at his skin. Grabbing you by the waist, he used a little pressure so you walked backwards. You didn’t expect to be pushed against the wall and a surprised gasp escaped you when your back hit it. Looking up at Dean, you noticed how his hungry eyes flickered over your figure and a cocky smirk formed on his face. You mirrored his expression and lifted your chin, so you could suck in his lower lip, biting on it softly. His response was immediate and fierce; he pressed his body to yours, pinning you to the wall completely, kissing you even deeper than before. The heat flooded you, making your cheeks burn and a sweat break.

You moaned and that seemed to spur him on because his hands started travelling all over your body. Doing the same, you aimed for his jacket, pushing it off his broad shoulders so it could land on the floor. The thought of finally discovering what was under his clothes took over your brain and you started to pull on his t-shirt, hazed and eager. But Dean grabbed your wrist and pinned it next to your head, not letting you undress him. You twisted and tugged, trying to break free, but he slid his fingers between yours and you instinctively clenched your palm.

���Don’t fight,” he breathed out, leaving your lips as he dropped to your neck, letting you take a much needed breath.

Leaning your head back you gave him the access to your throat where he licked and sucked, french-kissing your flesh. Your knees buckled a little when his hot lips closed on your pulse point, sending shivers down your spine as his stubble prickled you. Feeling his second hand sneaking under your shirt, you held your breath and jerked on the skin to skin contact. He wasn’t delicate; his long fingers were squeezing and digging, a firm touch making it all the more intense. Using your free hand you fisted his hair, pulling on it. Dean purred, nibbling on your flesh, making your eyes roll. It was like playing tennis, back and forth; you had an answer to each other's movements.

The hunger inside you was growing fast; you were getting more and more impatient and being caged by Dean only made you feel limited. So, naturally, you rebelled, trying to take control; with Dean it was always a competition. But your attempt only caused him to press his body more, his knee coming between your legs, making it harder for you to move. The thin material of your leggings was a weak protection to his touch and you whined when your sensitive area met his thigh. Fidgeting even more, you made him chuckle.

“Stop fighting,” he whispered into your ear as he pulled your earlobe between his teeth.

Growling, you turned your head and sunk your teeth into his neck, tasting sweet and salty. Dean hissed and backed away, looking down at you with a surprise in his eyes, brows slightly furrowed. You smiled and angled yourself to speak against his lips.

“Don’t act like you don’t like a fight, Winchester.”

The suggestion was clear and he seemed to understand. Your relationship was already a ticking bomb so why not have a little fun?

The challenging look you gave him was a last jolt and his mode switched. Before you could do anything, he kissed you firmly, letting go of you just to grab on the front of your shirt. Pulling with two hands Dean ripped the fabric in half, revealing your torso, making you smile a devil’s smile. He shook his head in disbelief that you were actually going along with it and grinning, he attacked your jaw. Scraping it with his teeth first, then kissing and going down passed your neck, to your collarbone. Bending his knees so he could reach lower and lower, he proceeded to shrug the destroyed clothing off you and focus on your breasts. Placing sloppy kisses on the curves, Dean moved his hands on your back and unclasped your bra. As soon as it was gone, he sucked in one of your nipples, causing you to arch your chest. Pulling his hair, you grabbed the back of his head, letting him know you enjoyed his work.

Every time his lips touched you, they left burning spots and you could feel yourself getting wetter. Not holding back anymore, you started to roll your hips, seeking the friction his leg could give you. Still playing with your boobs, he caught your hips and added the power to your moves, dragging a moan from you. Glancing down, you spotted the bulge in his sweatpants and realised he was still wearing too much clothes.

“Take that fucking shirt off,” you panted out, grabbing on the piece of clothing on his back.

This time he allowed you to do what you needed, lifting his arms to make your task easier and the second his chest was bare, you used your nails to leave red lines, making him grimace from pain before he kissed you. Caressing his newly exposed body, you felt firm muscles of his strong arms flexing. He wasn’t a gym type of guy, he was soft in some places but firm and strong in general, and that turned you on to the point your stomach flipped.

Suddenly, he pushed on your hips until your butt touched the wall behind you and pulled away from you, straightening himself. You looked at each other, panting and flinching in anticipation. Keeping the eye contact, Dean cupped your face, brushing his thumb over your swollen lips and slowly slid his hands down your body. You swallowed hard when he hooked his fingers behind your waistband and pulled your leggings down, crouching in front of you.

With a thumping heart you looked down at him, meeting his dark eyes watching you as he kissed your knee, your thigh, your inner thigh; his hands travelling up your legs, leaving goosebumps. You shivered when his hot breath hit your still clothed core. He placed a kiss on your damp panties, making your pussy clench and stopped. Leaning his forehead on your lower stomach, he tried to remain self-control, breathing strongly to calm himself down... and he failed. This whole situation was too much and he had wanted it for way too long to stop now.

Shooting up, he claimed your lips, driving his fingers inside your briefs at the same time. His digits went through your folds, gathering slick and found your clit, making you gasp into his mouth.

“Yeah? Right here?” he whispered and you sucked the air in through your mouth when he drew a circle, pressing harshly on your little nub.

Feeling him smiling, you clung to his neck, keeping him close when he started to make circles on your button. Moaning laughs escaped you, mixed with short breaths as you felt fire filling your veins, tickling sparks running from your clit to every nook of your system. For a moment you lost yourself in the feeling, but your brain woke up when he nudged you, rubbing his dick on your leg.

Opening your eyes, you locked them with his, tracing your palm down his chest and stomach. Somehow, you managed to turn you both around so he was by the wall. You didn’t care about teasing him through his pants so you pushed your hand inside and grabbed his hard shaft. Dean jerked and choked on his breath; the whole foreplay made him ridiculously sensitive.

You smiled satisfied and began to pump him, making his head fall back on the wall. His exposed neck was shining with sweat, throat moving as he swallowed hard. Your biting kink was begging for you to bite him, but the view was too good to not watch. His breathing quickened along with your strokes, his jaw flexing when he opened his mouth to chug. A thick vein popped out on the side of his neck, a guttural whine coming from him when you rubbed your thumb on his tip. Finally, you gave in and closed your lips on his jaw, light stubble pricking your lips. Dean turned his head and palming yours he brought you in for a kiss but you broke it fast, having enough.

"Come on," you said, taking his hand and leading him to your bedroom.

Not being able to stay away from each other, you stumbled towards the room, kissing and laughing, getting rid of the rest of the clothes on your way. Hitting the bed you let yourself fall on it, pulling Dean behind you. He hovered above you, using his tongue to play with your nipples as you both climbed up to the headboard. Adjusting the pillows beneath you, you felt his body pressing down, arms sneaking under yours as he kissed you deeply. Rolling his hips, he drove his cock between your folds, poking your clit and you automatically lifted your lower body up on your heels, feeling the electricity running through you. Dean bit down on your lip and pulled on it hard with his teeth, smiling when you hissed.

Without thinking much you just reached between your bodies and guided his cock to your entrance, making him freeze. The look he gave you was a mashup of a question and disbelief, and all it took was your evil smirk. You felt him fisting the sheets under you and with one, mild thrust he slid inside of you. Arching your back you inhaled, digging your fingers into his shoulders. He was stretching you; your walls fluttered around him when he bottomed out, making the two of you give silent moans, your voices stuck in your throats from intensity.

Watching you, he began to move, making you both more and more comfortable with the feeling. Gradually, his pace increased and so did the noises. Your breathy moans and growls filled the room, mixing with the sound of skin slapping on skin as Dean's hips waved between your thighs, faster and faster. New layers of sweat covered your bodies as the temperature increased; you felt the omnipresent, pleasurable burning.

Dean kept the rhythm, only stopping for just for a moment to kiss you. Not letting the opportunity pass, you pushed on him and flipped over so you were on top. Looking at you with a smirk, he palmed your asscheeks as you sinked down on him, continuing the activity.

The passion and sensuality made your head spin; Dean’s lustful eyes devouring you alive weren’t helping. You dragged your nails on his flesh again, making him hiss between the sounds. It wasn’t easy to breathe, to think or control yourself; your body started working by itself, speeding up, making you bounce on him while leaning your hands on his chest for support. Dean couldn’t decide where to touch, what part of you he should grab next; his hands were everywhere. Wrapping his fingers around the back of your neck he sat up, changing the angle and gave you this eye-rolling kiss. This asshole knew what he was doing.

A new position allowed you to only roll your hips and you laid back, grabbing Dean’s ankle to make your moves more fluent. He took a handful of your ass, helping you, watching himself sliding in and out of you, growling in pleasure. Tangled together you moved in sync, matching the other’s moves, grinding to empower the sensation. Feeling the coil tightening in your stomach, your head hung back and you exhaled, wailing quietly. A hand flattened on your back and Dean violently pulled you up, pressing your forehead to his. With closed eyes, panting against each other's mouth you chased both of your deliriums. Your pussy fluttered, your nails dug into his neck as you clasped it; the feeling started to overwhelm. The way Dean was moaning and clinging to you made it clear that he felt the same.

Your strength was fading and you found yourself slowing down. Dean’s attempts to continue were in vain as he was becoming weak too, exhaustion and his upcoming release taking over him.

“Y/N,” he warned you and you opened your eyes, looking at him when he reached between you. “I’m gonna-” you kissed him, cutting him off, tugging on his lip with your teeth.

“Stay inside,” you whispered, watching the surprise flash through his features.

The serious, assuring look on your face made his eyes roll back and the noise he made, clamped your stomach. Using your last strands of your power, you sped up, Dean joining you by hitting the right spot inside you. His fingers found your clit again, rubbing on it fast and you moaned loudly, feeling your muscles tightening.

A few more strokes, a few more moves and the crushing wave of pleasure hit you; your inner walls pulsated, squeezing Dean’s cock as you grabbed firmly on his neck, holding on for dear life. His thrusts went more erratic but also were more powerful; he was pounding inside you slow but hard, putting his forehead between your breasts. You were shaking and his breath fanning over your tummy only added more goosebumps.

Then you felt his arms wrapping around you and he hugged you tight. Pulling you close, Dean thrusted for the last time and with a low, throaty groan he stilled; his cock throbbing inside you, allowing you to milk him as you were still coming. The two of you were shivering, entwined in each other, panting and sweaty. Your heart was hammering and you could feel Dean’s galloping as well.

After calming down a bit, he let go of you and fell back on the bed, hitting the pillows with a sigh. Licking your lips, you looked down at him and smiled, seeing his eyes sparkling with joy and bliss. He laughed, caressing your thighs and then pulled you down for a kiss. It was sweet and soft, without tongue, just lips brushing yours; completely different then those earlier.

Oh, so he could be gentle too.

Cupping his face, you pecked his mouth a few times and then rolled off of him, standing up to make a quick run to your bathroom to clean yourself, leaving the door open.

"Hey!" you heard him yelling not even two minutes later, after you splashed your face with cold water. "Is it weird that I wanna cuddle?!"

You smiled on his words, shaking your head. Asshole also appeared to be a softie cuddler. Can this evening be any weirder?

"Yes!" you yelled back, laughing as you put down the cloth you were using to dry yourself.

"Cool!" he announced and then changed his tone, "I don't care."

Chuckling, you turned the light off on your way out and grabbed a random, oversized t-shirt from your drawer to put it on, letting it slip from one of your shoulders. Dean was making himself comfy in your bed, watching you carefully with his arm under his head and a stupid grin on his face.

"What?" you asked as you climbed on the bed, joining him under the covers.

"Nothing," he shrugged and shifted so you could fit in, resting your head on his chest.

Throwing your arm over his middle, you hugged him as his fingers came to trace the skin on your shoulder. A comfortable silence fell over you as you cuddled, enjoying the warmth, but you knew his mind was running, just like yours.

You didn’t like this tendency of yours to overthink, but the current situation was not only unexpected but also confusing. What now? Lovers? Relationship? Friends with benefits? Enemies with benefits? Because, you had to stay honest, if he did something that would piss you off, no matter how good he was in bed, you would still punch his perfect nose.

"I'm sorry." His words surprised you, detaching you from your thoughts. "For being a noisy neighbour."

You could hear the genuine guilt in his voice and that immediately made you feel like a bitch, so you said the first thing that came to your mind.

"I'm sorry for screwing up your car," you mumbled and quickly regretted it.

"Ha! So it was you!" His victory voice made your eyes roll and you poked his side, annoyed by the fact he dragged a confession from you so easily.

"But if it makes you feel any better, the paint is made of chalk so it’ll easily wash off," you said, unable to help the silly smile that spread across your face when you saw the relieved but shocked expression that he wore.

“Well played,” he chuckled, the sound rumbling under your ear which you found oddly comforting. So you snuggled more, melting into the intimacy.

You had to look the truth straight into the eye; maybe he did infuriate you like no other but there was something else. A pull, an urge to blow off the constant steam forming between you. You wanted him and something was telling you that from now on you won't be knocking on door number 12 just to fuss about loud music.

And once Jo finds out, you wouldn’t hear the end of it.

A/N: Thank you for reading! I hope you liked it :) Feel free to leave some feedback. ASKs and DMs are open, don’t be afraid to message me. Every word from you is gold <3

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Tag list: @deanwanddamons @jay-and-dean @katehuntington @winchest09 @talesmaniac89 @roonyxx @bunkerconfessions @akshi8278 @snffbeebee @lady-pswrld @rvgrsbrns​ @polina-93 @teresa-67 @alwayskeepfightingsweetheart @mrspeacem1nusone @flamencodiva @cutiecowgirl @waywardbaby @flashxspn @lyarr24

[bobbys-naughty-corner]

Alpha!Uhsijima x Omega!reader

Warning: smut 18+

PATIENCE

Ushijima pulled you into his lap. Cuddling you as you tried to type an essay. His scent intruding on your nostrils. It made you clench and your slick began to make your panty wet. His rut was in a couple of days and the days leading up to it was unbearable. He had told you that his rut was very rare and you didn’t even think maybe it was because you started to live with him. Ushijima got really touchy. It was apart of his nature, so you didn’t complain. But how he went about it was rather annoying. At first he started sniffing you. Randomly. Coming up behind you and sniffing your hair or pushed your head to the side and sniffing your neck. If you woke up before him he’d sniff where you slept. You caught him doing it a couple of times. Then he progressed to following. No matter where you went, he followed. You weren’t even given privacy in the bathroom. He push his way in with you and act like he was doing something. Brushing his teeth, washing his face, any excuse he could use. If you kicked him out he’d wait right outside the door. He was like your shadow. Now it was touching, following and sniffing. He craved your closeness and loved when you said nice things to him when you two cuddled. But right now you needed concentration so you chose to ignore him as he held you. He didn’t like that though. He wanted your attention. His hand trailed up from your waist to your breast. You pushed it down. He put it back, you pushed him away, he did it again and you gently put his hand back to your waist. He let out an annoyed growl and groped you harshly. You hissed and slapped his hand away. “No!” You yelled at him. Ushijima was shocked. You had raised your voice at him a couple of times, only to speak up or if he hurt himself. Yelling at him to be careful, you took all of his injuries seriously. But you had never ever ever hit him. He nearly whimpered, instead he just grumbled to himself and dropped his forehead to your shoulder.

At night you’d set up the guest bedroom for him. He didn’t want to see you during his rut because he didn’t want to hurt you. He could tell his agitation and sexual instinct weren’t a good combination. So you set up his own space. Packing movies, jump mangas, a oil diffuser to calm his nerves some. You even brought a small fridge and packed food for him. He’d have to miss a cooked meal for a while. He loved your cooking. But you already decided to make his favorite meal once his rut was over. Tonight however something felt different. You woke up covered in sweat. You rushed to the bathroom and looked at your reflection. Disheveled from sleep and sweating all over. You didn’t understand why it was so hot. Your legs began to wobble as your thighs rubbed together creating a friction that had pleasure coursing through your body. No way, it was you. It was because of you he was going into a rut. His sniffing, he was smelling your slick and scent. He followed you out of protection and he touched you because it was like you were begging him. How could you not notice the signs. You went back to the room and grabbed your phone, charger, pillow and snuck his volleyball shirt out of the hamper. You rushed to the guest bedroom and locked the door. Barricading yourself instead of him. You immediately went to work on the room. Almost everything in here was his and he’s been in here a couple of times so his scent was very heavy in the room. But it felt a little uncomfortable since you never used this room to nest. But you had to make do with what you got. You fixed the blankets to your liking, put his shirt over a pillow and cuddled with it as if it was him.

“YN?! YN?!” Ushijima was practically banging on the door. It woke you out of your sleep. “Huh?” Dazed and confused from being woken up so suddenly. “YN let me in. Why’d you lock yourself in there?” He asked as he kept jiggling the door knob. “I need to be alone! Stay away!” You yelled behind the door. You checked your phone and saw it was 9 am. You got up and tumbled to the ground. Your body has literally just woken up from being asleep. Your nose hit the floor rather hard and began to bleed. “Are you okay?!” Ushijima asked. “Uh yeah. I just tripped.” You scurried to the connected bathroom and wiped the blood with a wet rag. “YN! Are you bleeding?! I smell blood! Let me in!” He bellowed. His hands banging and shaking the door knob. You then heard scratching and growling. Then silence, he must’ve left. You went back to your nest and nuzzled into the blankets. Unknowing when your heat would actually start. Could be in a hour or it could be tonight. You’d just have to wait it out.

Staying in the bed bored and tired you. Yawns escaped your mouth as you hugged your pillow and watched movies. Your head snapped to the door when you heard something being forced under the door. It was a card. You got out of the bed and picked up the card. Covered in hearts and pink, you opened it and read it.

‘I hope you’re okay. I went to the store to get you snacks, and got you a build a bear and scented it for you. It’s right outside the door just open it and get it.

-Toshi’

You folded the card and your heart fluttered at his thoughtfulness. But your fluttering heart stopped when you saw his shadow from under the door. He was waiting for you to open it. Nice try. You looked around for a pen and wrote:

‘Thank you but you’re not slick. I know you’re right behind the door. I locked myself in here for the both of us. Visit Satori.’

You pushed the card back under the door and waited. A hard punch landed on the door. You jumped and scurried back to bed. Was he really this scary during his rut? You knew he was possessive and clingy but this was just crazy. You liked it though. You still felt safe. Ushijima walked off while stomping his feet. Be by bo fum. You decided to sleep until your heat hit you fully. Shutting off the lights and television. You drifted off to sleep effortlessly with your ushijima pillow. Ushijima on the other hand was restless. He had to see you. His scent could be smelt from blocks away. He was getting so agitated and being in the same house didn’t help. He didn’t like going far. He could only think about you, what if someone can smell you?! He made sure to mask your scent with his. As much as his whole neighborhood complained he just couldn’t bare the thought of someone trying to get to you. Ushijima paced around the house. Anxiously biting his claws, growling, even sniffing the air just in case there was a change. He knew you needed to be alone but his instincts were to mate and that door wouldn’t hold for long.

You woke up whimpering. Panting heavily as your body got really hot. You moan unconsciously, humping the pillow and crying out. You quickly got undressed and tossed the blankets off of your body. You smelt Ushijima’s scent all over you and it drove you crazy. “Toshi!” You cried unconsciously. Calling for him. You heard clawing at the door and quickly tried to open it but you forgot you locked yourself in. You moaned and cried against the door. “YN where’s the key?” Ushijima asked you. His voice was gruff and almost like a growl. “I-i don’t know.” You whimpered. Your slick wet your legs and your breast ached to be touched. You missed his body on yours. You crawled back to bed and tried to ease your suffering. Your hands massaging your boobs, pulling your nipples. You moaned loudly hoping he could hear you. Ushijima’s vision went dark. But he came back to and punched a hole through the door. You jumped as you saw his hand clawing at the door trying to rip the door knob off. “Toshi stop,” You whimpered. He didn’t listen though. He kept clawing and breaking off parts of the door. His penis hurt so bad he couldn’t just let you be alone. He had to mate. You yipped and panted behind the door and he only got stronger. The door knob no longer attached to the door. He pushed the door open and watched you hump your pillow. Your body glistening with sweat and your body hotter than a 130° fever. You wanted to tell him to leave, but the more he stepped closer the more you wanted him. Was it pathetic? Your body craving him to touch you. Wanting all of his attention and needing his affection.

Ushijima gets in the bed and pushes you on your back. His tongue traces your collar bone and bites down on he junction between your shoulder and neck. Marking you. You whimper at the painful bite. He then kissed the bite. He removes his clothes over you getting just as naked as you were. Your eyes widen as you see his member. It was big, hard and throbbing. Ushijima leaned down again and spread your legs. Your body complient and obident to him. Looking at his face and then back to his dick, back and forth as he slowly pushed in. His nails digging into your skin as you stretched around him. His hips snapped against yours and you howled in pain. Thrashing under him and against the sheets. You may have been wet but he shouldn’t have pushed in so quickly. The pain made your stomach cave in. You pushed against his chest, your eyes bubbling with tears. He began to thrust his dick into you. His knot slowly enlarging as he pressed it just outside of your hole. You tiny claws scratched his chest and shoulders. He grabbed your wrist and pinned them above your head. You squealed when he went faster. Teeth bared and tightly clenched as your back arched and eyes rolled back. His free hand cupped your face and you looked at his face. He smiled softly and said something too low for you to hear. He was talking to himself or either your ears were clogged.

You teared rolled down your face as he slowed down. He released your wrist and sat up. His hands gently holding your hips, slowly thrusting in and out of your cunt. The squelching sound of his dick moving in and out of you made you more hot. His groans and tight face aroused you. He had to compose himself, hold himself back from giving you more pain. He didn’t want to hurt you, he was sorry he did but he’d make it up to you. He’d take care of your body and make you relieved of the sexual tension that courses through your body. He looks down at you, watching your body move under him with each buck of his hips. The mere sight of you made him want to go berserk, to just push his knot into you and release inside of you. Breed you, just how nature intended. But he had to enjoy this, enjoy the pleasure and purity of your body. Enjoy how you called his name, arched your back and moaned. Your hands holding the sheets trying to stop yourself from being pushed further up the bed, grasping each layer of fabric to help you get through it. His eyes gazing at your bouncing breast. The pleasure of it all sent waves of electricity through your body, it was beautiful. You felt your ache dying down but your stomach was bloating. And besides that how could you not notice how wet his body was. Dripping with sweat, glistening and flattering his body. You let go of the bed and reached up. He slowly leaned down and you wrapped your arms around his neck. Whispering into his ear how good he made you feel. A slight feeling of guilt in his heart, how he practically forced himself in here and on top of you. You didn’t mind though, you wanted him just as much as he wanted you. “Toshi~ please more. I can take more now.” You told him. Confident in yourself and your body. You could handle it. He stopped moving and lifted your body. He grabbed a pillow and place it under your butt, gently laying you back down. He brought your legs up over his shoulders, you felt him inching in deeper, you moaned and moved your arms. Your hands found his and you held them, fingers between fingers, intimately close. Silent and steady, he kissed your lips. Opening your mouth for him, letting his tongue dance with yours. Your vagina fluttered at the kiss. He grunted, your walls squeezing around his dick. Could you be any more perfect? You sighed into the kiss when he pulled out. Slowly pushing back in, shifting his body to be at a comfortable and pleasurable angle. When he found the right spot, he got faster. No longer kissing, grunting into your mouth as you gasped and moaned under him. His dick gently touching your cervix, enough to give you a dull pain and pleasured shocks through your body. Your hands squeezing his as he sped up. He moved his head to your neck and sniffed out your scent. Biting down on the gland and going faster, harder, rougher. His knot pressing right at your hole, threatening to be pushed in. His body couldn’t stop, he couldn’t stop.

“So good!” You praised him. Only able to say two or three words. Your mind filled with pleasure, lust and sexual drive clouding your judgement. You were all his and your body was eagerly open to him. Your stomach tightened. You felt yourself about to cum, but you didn’t want to just yet. You didn’t want to stop. Ushijima let go of your left hand and used his hand to find your clit. His thumb firmly rubbing your sensitive nub up and down. Forcing you to orgasm. “Don’t hold back baby. Cum for me.” He whispered into your neck. Licking your bite. Your body trembled, your orgasm rocked through you like you were going down a water slide. Your teeth clenched and he yelped as you tightened around him. Your body was so sensitive and he took that into consideration. You squeezed him into you. His hips stoped thrusting as he pushed his knot inside of you. Your slick made it easy to enter but it was still a bit painful. Like pins and needles. His cock throbbing inside of you as he came, holding onto you. Trying to control himself. Breathing heavily through his teeth. He hand quickly gripped the headboard, not wanting to hand your body. “Fuck!” He shouted. A tear fell down your face. Your stomach hurt, you felt full and exhausted. Your body limp under him. Both of you unable to move away from each other until his knot was gone. You whimpered when he lifted you up, flipping you on top of him so he wouldn’t suffocate you under his body. He helped your legs down, they were sore and very much dead. He brushed back your hair, lifting your head to kiss you gently, a thank you for allowing him to have you. To claim you as his. Your body relaxed over him, letting him softly massage your waist. “I love you.” You said as you snuggled into his neck, your exhausted body falling asleep. Faintly catching his “I love you too.”

[theninjamouse]

Sick Day

You're not sure if it's a monster thing or a Grillby thing, but you've always thought that Grillby just doesn't get sick. The closest he even gets is headaches, which you may or may not have caused on a few occasions of reckless activities that landed you at the hospital.

Turns out you were wrong.

Waking up in a sweat is a common occurrence given Grillby's tendency to lock you in a teddy bear hold during the night, but on this particular morning you wake feeling more liquid than person. Gah, gross.

Kicking your feet free from the thin sheet, you swipe at your face, blinking blearily. The light coming in from the window is the dull blue from a sun not yet risen. The room, always warm, is unbearably hot.

The debate of whether to poke Grillby awake or just camp on the couch for a few more hours dies as your eyes fall on your still slumbering partner. It's normal for the edges of his face to get soft and fuzzy when he's sleeping but nearly all definition of his head is gone. The color is weird too; waves of uneasy green and deep red sweep over his face and bits of flame hiss and spit erratically.

"Holy sh- hey, Grillby." Reaching out, you gingerly touch his shoulder, wary of waking him into a panic if he's having a nightmare. "Grillby?"

A deep throated groan rumbles from his chest. He shifts and you think his head turns towards you. He makes a questioning noise and you just barely catch that his eyes have opened to thin slivers.

"Hey," you say gently as you sit up. "Are you okay? You look more like...a regular campfire than usual."

He doesn't answer for a moment, blinking owlishly. Then he lifts a hand, looking down at the fingers that have molded into stubby digits. "Ah," he rasps before a terrible crackling cough shakes his shoulders.

Alarmed, you move to help him sit up, patting his back. The fabric of his shirt is scorching hot. "Holy crap, are you sick?"

Wheezing, he tries to speak, fails and then just nods miserably.

Your mouth drops. He’d been quiet and subdued last night sure, but you thought that he was just tired from a crazy work week. "I thought you didn't get sick!"

It takes him a moment to get the breath to mutter, ".....very...rarely."

"Geez, okay, um. Here." You take your pillow and add it to his, fluffing them up against the headboard. "Lean back here."

He follows your guiding hand with meek compliance, which more than anything tells you he's out of it. What the heck do you do now? None of the human cures for colds or fevers will work here. No point in a glass of water or medicine made for human bodies. Maybe there's monster medicine? Would a monster candy work?

Leaning over, you grab your phone off the nightstand. It's a little after six. Hopefully Toriel is already up and moving since it's a school day.

"Good morning Shore," she greets after just a few rings and you breathe a little sigh of relief. "Is something wrong? You're rarely up this early."

"Yeah, um, Grillby's sick." You look over at him to see he's closed his eyes, head slumped against the wall.

"Oh dear! Is he alright?"

"I don't know, I think so?" You try not to let your voice hitch. "He's burning really hot and his colors are weird and he's got a cough. Do you...have you ever dealt with monster sickness?"

"More than my fair share," she says sympathetically. "Though it has been a very, very long time since the last fire based illness I cared for."

"But you have cared for one? What do I do?"

"He needs to stay fed; the excess heat is his core attempting to burn out the illness."

"Like a human fever."

"Exactly." There's a noise in the background and you hear Toriel respond as if she's placed her fuzzy paw over the phone. "My dear, I'm terribly sorry, there's a bit of a crisis happening this morning, I need to take care of this but I will call you back. For now, keep him comfortable and keep him fed. Oil heavy foods, perhaps sprinkle on some butane-”

Bu-what now.

“Oh dear, there goes Frisk. Call me if you have any other questions, I’ll be by with a pie later!” Click. 

Ah. Great. You sigh and set the phone down. At the slightest shifting of the mattress, you say, “Dear, where do you think you’re going?” 

Grillby freezes, one loosely formed hand gripping the edge of the blanket. “Kitchen,” he rasps. “...I need...”

“To eat, yeah, Toriel told me. I’ll get it so you stay put.” Scooting over, you push him back against the headrest. It’s a fight to quell the urge to put your hand up on his forehead. It’s obvious enough without feeling that he’s literally burning up. 

“Normally this would be the point I’d go get a wet rag or something,” you joke weakly. “But I don’t think that’d be helpful to you.” 

Grillby mumbles something that might be a sassy remark or just another groan. 

“Got any butane?” 

The noise this time is definitely a groan. 

You pat his thigh. “Sorry, queen’s orders.” 

He gestures towards the kitchen and you slip off the bed. Grillby’s kitchen is always stocked so it’s easy to gather together ingredients for a stew. It’s no chicken noodle soup but at least it’s soup like. You do indeed find a canister of butane in one of the cabinets. The large ‘Highly Flammable’ warning on the side has you pausing. How exactly do you add butane to a stew? How much? Eh, probably best to just bring the whole thing and ask Grillby. 

It’s not long before the stew is bubbling and a rather lovely smell fills the kitchen. You’re no Grillby, but you can make a very solid stew. You grab a bowlful, the butane, turn and yelp, nearly dropping them both. 

Grillby has either ignored your orders to stay put or just forgot because there he stands. But the effort of moving seems to have stolen away what energy he had left because now he looks more like a matchstick than a monster. His head is just a simple flame flickering with the same harsh colors and his shirt hangs loosely on his thinned frame. 

“Oh geezum, you scared me,” you wheeze, wincing at the hot stew that splashed on your hand. “Are you okay?” 

He...maybe shrugs? It’s hard to tell with how little mass he has right now. You set the butane down and guide him to sit on the couch. When you offer the bowl and spoon, he forgoes the spoon altogether and cups the bowl in his now fingerless hands and chugs the entire thing down in a matter of seconds. 

You blink. “Oh. More?” 

“...Please.” 

More you get, bowl after bowl until the pot is empty and then you remember the can of butane still sitting on the counter. When you bring it over, Grillby sparks with a low disgust but takes the can. With a low cough, he gestures for you to back up before taking a deep swig. 

The burst of heat and flame has you wincing, even at a fair distance. Your jaw drops a little at the sight of him chugging down the liquefied gas like it’s an ice cold glass of water on a summer day. By the time the bottle is empty, some of the shape has returned to his head, though the edges of his face remain fuzzy with dark green flames.

You cautiously approach as he sighs heavily and sets the bottle on the floor. “Better?” 

“Hmm.” He certainly looks a bit better, at least a little. He blinks sleepily at you. “Hi.” 

“Hi matchstick.” 

The whine he makes at that is so utterly adorable you can’t help but take his little matchstick flame head in your hands and plant a kiss where you best guess his forehead is. Totally worth the slight singeing of your lips. 

“Do you wanna go back to bed?” you ask as you card your fingers through his headflames. Ow, hot. 

He grunts and shakes his head. “Stay....here,” he mumbles, tugging on your shirt. 

A grin pulls at your mouth. “Fine, but you should get some more sleep. Even an elemental needs rest when sick.” 

You sit and Grillby immediately slumps over so his head rests on your lap. He snuggles his face into your stomach and tucks his arms in close. Oh heavens above, you’re not happy he’s sick but he is unfairly cute like this. 

“Comfy?” you ask gently, rubbing his head again. 

He hums quietly. “Sorry,” he tacks on as a mumble. “It...will pass...quickly.” 

“It’s okay to be sick, it happens to everyone.” 

He mutters something else, but sleep is already claiming him. You stroke your thumb over his cheek. “Just rest,” you whisper, though you’re fairly certain he’s already slipped into slumber. “I’ll take care of you.” 

[forever-rogue]

17 on the angst section of list #2 for whiskey please 🥺

Anything for you, my love 🥺💕 Please enjoy...and ugh...angst time?

Prompt: “Are you upset with me?”

Agent Whiskey x Fem!Reader ; warnings: angst

Pedro Characters Masterlist 

»»————-　♡　————-««

It had been a while since you'd heard from him. Too long. Hours too long. It was supposed to be a simple mission - easy in and easy out. But here you were, alone, worried and waiting - waiting, waiting, waiting. 

You'd busied yourself with cleaning the apartment you shared. When that was done, you'd set about asking dinner, even going out of your way to make Jack's favorites - including dessert. But even that didn't take too long and soon enough your mind was wandering. Every dark thought that you had pushed to the recesses of your mind started to bubble to the surface.

What if something went wrong? What if Jack was hurt? What if the mission was compromised? What if -

No. No. No.

You weren't going to think about that.

Sighing heavily, you padded to the bathroom in order to take a bath. Maybe that would take your mind off of things. Probably not, but hell, it was worth a try. 

Turning on the tap, you made the water as warm as you could tolerate before filling it up with bubbles and oils. This particular one was your favorite; Jack had bought it for you on a mission in France. With that thought brought front and center you huffed at yourself. 

Stripping down and discarding your clothes on the floor, you quickly slipped into the comfort of the warm water. An audible moan slipped past your lips as you submerged your entire body, remaining under the water under you could no longer hold your breath. 

Breaking through the water, you laid against the back of the tub and stared at the ceiling. Physically, your body felt relieved, the ache of the day slowly leaving your body, but mentally, you were still buzzing like crazy.

What would you do if something happened to Jack? If something happened to him you would ever forgive yourself. If he-

"Fuck," you groaned at yourself. Running a hand over your tired face, you quickly formulated a plan. Well, it wasn't as much of a plan as a rash idea. But at this point you needed something to cling onto.

You'd texted and called Jack throughout the afternoon and everything had gone unanswered. But you wanted - needed - answers. And you'd be damned if you weren't going to get them. 

You hastily stood up and stepped out of the tub, almost slipping and falling on the water that had sloshed out on the tile floor. It didn't matter though, as long as you got what you needed nothing else mattered.

»»————-　♡　————-««

You practically stormed into the Statesman Headquarters, dressed in sweats and an oversized hoodie, hair still messy and damp from your bath. No doubt something akin to a mad woman, but right now you didn't care. 

"Ginger!" it was getting later and the building was quiet, but you practically shouted at her, causing her to almost fall from her seat. She clutched at her heart as she settled down and gave you a wide eyed look, "where's Jack? Have you heard from him? Do you know if he's okay?"

"He's fine, honey," she promised, swallowing nervously as you gave her a curious look. If he was fine...why...why hadn't you been the first to know? 

"I've been trying to call him and text him all day and...I-I-I haven't heard back from him," you pouted slightly as you wondered what on earth could have caused such a mishap, "Ginger...what's going on?"

"Jack got back a little bit ago," her voice was soft as her eyes flicked down the hall and in the direction of his office. She wasn't normally like, all nervous and quiet, and you could tell there was something she wasn't telling you, "he's probably just catching up on a few things before coming home to surprise you."

"Ginger," her name off your tongue was low and predatory as you slowly took a step back in the direction of his office. She stood up and opened her mouth to say something but nothing but silence met your ears, "what are you hiding?"

"Don't-" and with that singular word, you dashed down the hall, wanting to know once and for all what the hell was going on with everyone.

As soon as his office came into view, you could see the outline of his figure through the softly frosted glass. A smile started to tug on your features when you realized he was actually alive and well. But your fleeting happiness came to a crashing halt when you saw he wasn't alone.

No - there was another figure, this one noticeably smaller and feminine in appearance next to his. Or rather, wrapped up in his arms as he kissed her. You stood there in silent horror as your heart dropped. 

It was just a kiss right? But then...why was he lifting her on his desk, as he has done to you many times in the past? Why did he keep kissing her? Why did he allow her to strip off his jacket? Why was he reached for the zipper of her dress? Why-

"Honey…" Ginger's voice was soft as she grabbed your hand and started to pull you away. Tears were streaming down your face as you stood there frozen, a few small whimpers escaping your lips. Eventually you gave in and let her pull you away.

"You knew," it wasn't a question - rather a biting accusation. Your lip trembled with effort as you tried not to cry and completely break down. The beautiful, glittering ring on your left ring finger, only there for a few weeks at this point, suddenly seemed to weigh you down, “you knew and you didn’t say anything. You let me walk in and see that. H-how long?”

“I know it seems bad,” she seemed genuinely upset as you looked at her, your voice cracking with each word until you were almost broken, “but I-I swear I’ve never seen him with another woman or man before. H-he said she was here for business. I didn’t think...I didn’t…”

“Do you mean it?” an ugly sob racked your body as you tried to figure out if it was possible that this was some sort of business venture, that perhaps this was still some odd part of the mission. But even though you prided yourself on being an eternal optimist, you knew this wasn’t what it was. No, despite what the world may or may not have known, Jack had always - always - promised that he would never kiss, touch, or bed another in furtherance of work, a mission, anything. He hadn’t been lying then...or perhaps he had been the entire time, “Ginger, please tell me you mean it. I can’t have my heart broken again.”

“I swear it,” she promised and you could tell she meant it. Either this was the first time, and he’d been careless in not getting caught, or it had been a time thing in a slew of many, and he just happened to be careless for once. You nodded slowly before moving to push past her, “I’m so sorry…”

“Me too,” you whispered as you left without another word, not even bothering to hide the fact that you were sobbing. Your whole world was slowly crashing down around your shoulders; each step away from the building was a fateful reminder that nothing would be the same. 

All you wanted to do was go home and forget; forget that you’d seen anything, forget that Jack had betrayed you, forget that anything from your seemingly idyllic life was out of place. 

But he was everywhere, in everything. From the pictures that greeted you as soon as you walked into your apartment to the touches of decor that were pointedly him, to the clothes that hung in your closet, to the bedsheets that smelled like him. Everything. 

In a fit of rage, you grabbed a few of the pictures off the wall and smashed them into a hundred, million tiny pieces onto the floor. Soon enough, the images of the two of you were distorted by the tiny shards of glass - or perhaps it was the tears that you kept blinking back. 

Thoroughly exhausted and wanting to sleep this day away, praying you’d wake up and find it was all a dream, you tore the blankets and sheets and pillows off the bed and threw them into a pathetic heap on the floor. At least his smell didn’t linger on the mattress. But before you were satisfied, you went into the closet and followed suit with his clothes, refusing to let yours rest next to his any longer. 

Maybe it was rash - dramatic and immature - but you didn’t care. Jack had broken the one rule, the one promise, he swore he would always keep. He had been a good man, an honorable man, and you thought you could always trust him. Now you just had one lingering question left.

Where did the lies start and stop?

Before you dragged your aching bones to the bare mattress, you pulled off the engagement ring and set it on the kitchen countertop, right where he would easily see it. 

You were a believer in second chances, in giving people the benefit of the doubt but this...this was exactly what it appeared to be. You knew that deep down. 

»»————-　♡　————-««

It was dark when Jack came home, not that he had been expecting you to be up and waiting for him. It was nearing three in the morning and he knew you to work that day. The crunch underneath his boots caught him off guard and he quickly flipped on the light switch to see what the disturbance was. 

A frown crossed his features when he saw that it was several photographs of the two; his heart leapt into his throat as he worried that something had happened or someone had broken in. 

But no - nothing else looked out of place, and the door had been locked and the windows were closed. No signs of any type of break in. Huffing lightly, he stepped further inside, stripping off his boots once he was past the glass shards, a gleaming from the kitchen caught his eye. His brow furrowed as he walked over and saw that it was...your engagement ring. 

His heart raced as he swallowed down the lump in his throat. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. What was going on?

Padding quietly down the hallway, he nervously pushed open the door to your bedroom, and spied you sleeping, curled up in a ball, with no blanket or pillows. As he stepped inside, he almost tripped over the mess of sheets and clothes on the floor. 

Oh no.

The door creaked slightly, causing you to wake up from your slight slumber. You hadn’t really been sleeping, not much anyways, The little bit of reprieve you’d found were plagued with nightmares and bad dreams.  You sat up slowly, hunched over and pathetic as you wiped at your eyes. 

“Sugar...are you upset with me?”

“How long Jack?” your throat was dry and scratchy as you stared directly at him, trying to read his body language. It was dark, but the light was filtering in behind him and casting him in an odd haze. He stiffened immediately when he realized you knew. 

“You don’t-”

“How long Jack?” you repeated, this time more firmly and with more conviction, “was she the first? Or another in a long line of many?”

“Listen you have to-”

“Answer the question, sugar,” every word was filled with venom as you wished he could scream and shout or something - and tell you that you were mistaken and that there really was a truthful explanation for what you had witnessed, “was it for work? Because I will still be pissed because we agreed that it would never come to that, but at least what I would understand. Please tell me that’s what it was.”

“I…” he started and quickly cut him off. He wished he could lie to you and tell you it was for work. Gods, he had already been lying to you, but for some reason he couldn’t do it anymore. You nodded as the tears streamed down your face, “I love you. I really do, and you’re the only one I truly want. Please understand that, sugar.”

“I wish I could believe you,” your voice was a small, pathetic thing, “I really do. Because I loved you - I still do. I thought...all this time, all these years, that we were building a future - our future - together. I know things haven’t been easy for you, Jack, I know. But I thought...I thought this one thing I could trust you with. It was the only thing I asked of you.”

“I love you, that is one thing that is true,” he tried to take a step closer, but you held up your hand to stop him.

“No, you don’t,” you whispered, “if you didn’t, you wouldn’t have done this. To lie to me, to sneak around. How many others were there? How long? You know, it even would have hurt less if you’d say something like hey, I want to have sex with other people or hey, can we try this or that. But to not say anything and do this? That’s the worst. When were you going to tell me? We were supposed to get married, Jack. Married.”

“I know,” he took in a long rattling breath, “I...I wish I had a good answer for you, but you have to-”

“The fact that you have nothing to say for yourself, tells me everything I need to know,” you spat at him, “I wish I knew what it was. Was it me? W-was...was I not enough for you?”

“You are everything-”

“Yeah?” you asked bitterly as he nodded, “then why did you do this Jack? Why? Why? Please just say something. Anything.”

“Sugar…”

“Don’t,” it was a soft, broken whisper as you shook your head, “don’t ever call me that again. Just get out. Please. Just leave.”

“Listen, you have to do-”

“I have to do nothing, Jack Daniels,” you laughed bitterly, “but you need to leave. Just go. I...you can come and get your things when I’m at work. I just...I don’t want to see you right now.”

“Okay,” he agreed quietly, turning around to head, lingering in the doorway for a moment, “I am sorry, you know.”

“Sorry for what you did, or sorry I found out?” he remained silent at your question as you shook your head, “just go Jack.”

“I love you…”

“Just go,” you cried softly, “get out and never look back. I never want to see you again.”

“Sugar-”

“Get out,” it wasn’t filled with emotions or tears, no - that’s not what broke his heart further, it was that fact you sounded so empty, so hollow, “goodbye Jack Daniels.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

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[burningupp-replies]

That day, the JD was pretty busy. Both you and Zuko were running around like crazy people, fulfilling orders and cleaning up after guests. It was stressful, yes, but holy shit you guys worked so well together! As you took the orders, Zuko would listen with half an ear. The drinks and pastries would be all set on a tray as soon as they were needed, where you would then trade his full tray for your tray full with dirty dishes, which were then handed to Azula who was on dish duty for the day.

Everything was running like a well-oiled machine; Azula let you know as much with some comments during the day. Those comments were hard to describe... They felt almost snide, but you could tell she was at least trying to be genuine, so you just smiled back at her and were your general cheery self.

When things started winding down, and Azula's shift ended, you and Zuko shared a few conversations when nothing else needed to be done. You were exhausted after the first six hours of your eight hour shift were a constant rush, but the conversations shared with him somehow made it all worth it.

"So obviously, I had to let her know she was being a nutcase, but I had to be nice even if she was a witch," you rambled on, talking about an earlier customer who could probably be described as a Karen.

"As you do," Zuko teased, and you swatted his arm.

"Yes, sometimes you do! Stop making fun of me," you whined, pouting at him. Zuko went quiet for a little, just staring at you, so you stopped pouting and huffed. "Anyway, I kindly let her know that even if I wanted to provide her with a fresh smoothie with grapefruit, we didn't have grapefruit. And even if we did, we don't have a blender or an actual recipe to satisfy her needs, and the smoothie shop down the freaking road would probably happily serve her a smoothie containing grapefruit. And then, can you guess what she did? "

Zuko raised an eyebrow. "Ask to talk to the manager?"

"YES! The nerve of some people, I'm just so tired. So then I sent her to talk to Azula," you finished, smirking.

At this, Zuko burst out laughing. You grinned, because you didn't think anything in the world was as beautiful as this boy laughing. He wasn't one to laugh for the sake of laughing, so when he did, you knew it was genuine.

There were many little things like that which you had picked up on during the past month working at the Jasmine Dragon. He was extremely punctual, but was fairly forgiving of others. He liked routine and order, but didn't get upset with chaos as long as he could have his own neat little bubble. He didn't mind cleaning up after others; in fact, he preferred it. And above all, he was kind.

The afternoon started bleeding into evening, and you discussed everything under the sun, from your love of everything cute and fluffy to you recommending a sleepy time tea for his insomnia. You had a pack with you, and offered him a bag. He smiled cutely, and you felt your heart melt a little. Damn it.

~*~

As soon as you guys closed the shop after the last customer, you could leave. The evening had been really slow, surprisingly, and everything that would normally need to get done after closing was already taken care of. So you both grabbed your things and went to Zuko's car. It was fairly cold outside so late in the evening, and you tried to suppress your shivers so he wouldn't see. Of course, though, he did.

"You okay?" he asked, a bit concerned.

"Oh, yeah, it's nothing. Just a big contrast to the heat when working with tea," you joked, and he chuckled.

"I suppose," he hummed as he turned the heat up in the car.

Some soft music played in the background the entire ride back, but honestly, you couldn't even tell what it was - you were nervous. And it didn't help that he folded up his sleeves to his elbows while driving, because damn; that did things to you.

Once you pulled over to park and go inside, he handed you his hoodie, no questions asked. You took it reluctantly, but pulled it on anyway. It smelled like him - firewood and something so warm and sweet, you couldn't describe it.

"So, this is my place. It's not much, but I don't need much," Zuko introduced once you came in through the door.

It was a modern apartment - everything was black and white, with a few paintings here and there. It was fairly small, seemed like a one bedroom apartment, but it was still nicer than anything you could even hope for in the near future.

"It's really nice, Zuzu, I like it," you replied, beaming a smile up at him. He smiled back. "So I brought a change of clothes, and figured that maybe I could use your bathroom to change?" you asked after a few moments of silence.

"Y-yes, of course," he stammered, and showed you to a bathroom.

You thanked him, and went to change. It wasn't anything extraordinary, you were only watching a movie after all, but you hadn't exactly brought your worst chill-at-home clothes. A pair of yoga pants and a tank top, and you decided to put on Zuko's hoodie again - you hoped he wouldn't mind.

When you were done changing you brushed your hair, putting it in a messy bun on top of your head, before heading back out into the living room/kitchen. The apartment was open plan, after all.

"Alright, so I don't own the movie, but I did bring my laptop and my Disney+ account, so I figured it would do," you joked, and Zuko turned around with a bowl of popcorn in his hands. And then he froze.

It was quiet for a few beats. You took the time to appreciate the man in those damn grey sweats again, and a normal t-shirt. Spirits, did he make everything look good?

After a moment he blinked a few times, then shook his head so slightly you could have missed it; but of course you didn't, because you were very observant when it came to this man.

"Uhm, sure. Sounds good," he replied once he gathered his thoughts, and you suddenly struck by a realization.

"Oh sorry, I should have asked if I could use this," you mumbled, gesturing at the hoodie adorning your body while blushing a little. "I can take it off if you-"

"NO!" Zuko almost shouted, and you jumped a little. He cleared his throat. "No, it's fine."

You smiled shyly before unpacking your laptop and setting up the movie, sitting down on the couch. Zuko joined you soon after, and seeing as you were watching on a laptop, you had to scooch in pretty close. At first you blushed, asking if it was okay, to which he just nodded, and then you fell into silence while watching the movie.

Halfway through, your head hit his shoulder, as you were getting pretty tired. He stiffened at first, but then he relaxed even more, and you stayed like that. He leaned his head on top of yours and you sighed, eyes drooping more and more. Before falling asleep, you registered a deep hum of contentment combined with strong arms wrapping around you tightly, squeezing you a little.

TEAMWORK | part 7

A/N: i decided to write this movie night, too! i hope you guys like my "actual" writing too, not just the texts :p also, i'm almost at 40 followers which??? crazy??? thank you all! lmk if you want to be added to the taglist <3

Taglist:

@theblueslytherin @bakugouswh0r3 @slutforsalvatore @charlenasaxen

[polaroid15]

Febuwhump day 2 - “I can’t take this anymore.”

Summary: While battling a particularly bad sensory overload at school, Peter is grateful to have Ned and Tony in his corner. 

Read this chapter and previous ones on Ao3 at: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29138196/chapters/71600832

----

Peter feels like a raging dumpster fire.

Scratch that- the world's biggest raging dumpster fire.

As soon as his eyes open he knows it’s going to be a bad day. The dull light of the morning makes his eyes sting and burn, and from where he lays pressed between his sheets, he can hear countless conversations throughout their apartment complex, all blurring together and causing an endless stream of inescapable noise.

Although barely conscious, there’s already a fierce headache building up between his eyes. He closes them and covers his ears with his pillow, willing it all to dissipate into a quiet nothingness. Then May walks in, bright, cheery and oblivious. Her perfume, though normally faint, nearly has him choking on air and her wake up call reverberates through his head so loudly, it has him seeing stars.

It’s all too much. Just the thought of moving makes him want to cry.

Though he doesn’t really have a choice.

Dragging himself out of bed and into clothes that he knows will do nothing but irritate his skin is nothing short of torturous. He skips breakfast, unable to stand the smell of it, and leaves before May can pull him into a hug.

Walking is a blur. Somehow he makes it out of his complex and onto the street. He must look crazy, he thinks distantly, jumping at noises only he can hear and flinching against the stimulus. He can taste the pollution in the air, can feel each grain of cement under his shoes, notices every thread on his clothes and how it rubs against his skin.

It’s a miracle that he makes it to school, though he can hardly see straight when he does. He manages to find his desk and collapses against it, trying to keep as still as possible with his eyes squeezed shut. The pain in his head builds as it picks up on every footstep, every laugh, every slammed locker.

He’s going to die. He’s sure of it.

“Hey Peter.”

An audible gasp leaves Peter’s chest in one burning gust of air as Ned slips into his seat beside him. Trying to play it off, Peter cracks open his eyes and begs the tears that collect in them not to fall as he looks unevenly over at his friend. “H-hey Ned,” he whispers.

Immediately, Ned’s eyes narrow. He opens his mouth and closes it knowingly when Peter winces. Then, seeming to weigh his options, presses forward, soft voice barely audible through the chaos in his head. “You shouldn’t be here dude.”

“I’m okay,” Peter says.

“No. Just look at how you’re grabbing the desk. You’re going to break it.”

Looking down, Peter sees he is indeed clutching the lip of the desk, fingers white and bloodless at the grip. Surprised and a little embarrassed, he lets go. His hands ache fiercely and he closes them into tight fists instead, nails biting at his palms. The sharp pain distracts him from the great-infinite-everything-else, and he welcomes it.

“I’m serious,” Ned says. “You need to leave before the bell rings-”

But as if summoning it from the universe, it does. The shrill mechanical alarm cuts through the air and Peter bites on his lip to keep from screaming, tasting copper. By the time the third ring ends Peter’s body is physically shaking and he feels dizzy enough to believe he could fall out of his desk. Knowing Ned is staring at him and refusing to meet the gaze, Peter wraps his hands carefully around the desk frame to keep himself vertical.

The class is the worst of his life.

He tries to take notes, but ends up snapping three of his pencils into halves. He doesn’t comprehend a single word of the lecture and by the time the final bell rings he feels like he’s being crushed under concrete all over again. Ned places a hand around his bicep where it burns like fire, and before Peter can draw another stilted breath he’s being pulled up and out of the room. He tries to walk straight but fails incredibly. Ned is silent through it all, taking Peter’s weight and bypassing the stares of their classmates with grace.

He’s a good friend.

“Brace yourself.”

Before Peter can Sherlock what Ned is referring to, there’s bright light in his eyes and a million different smells and sounds from the outside world attack him in every direction.

It’s his breaking point.

Ned tries to catch him as he falls but Peter ends up sprawled in the grass all the same, blind and dry heaving. He hears each frantic beat of Ned’s heart, smells each bead of sweat on both of their skin, is aware of every insect crawling through the grass underneath them.

“I can’t take this anymore,” Peter chokes. His vision still hasn’t returned but he’s too relieved to be scared.

If Ned responds, he can’t decipher it. Instead, he feels Ned drag him up and away from his sick until they’re leaning against the wall of the school. Peter lets his head loll against the warm brick, delirious out of his mind and lets his senses overtake him, too weak to fight it anymore.

It could be minutes or hours, but Peter hears another heartbeat join Ned’s beating equally frantic. He smells motor oil and expensive aftershave and knows before he can even attempt clearing his vision that Tony is with them.

“Peter? Pete can you hear me?”

Yes.

“Peter?”

“I’ve never seen it this bad,” Ned whispers. “He’s barely conscious-”

“Okay, okay. I can fix this. Help me get him to the car.”

Again, Peter is lifted. The contact makes him whimper, though he doesn’t fight against it, hardly able to hold up his own head. Clean leather and sharp air fresheners cut into his awareness as he’s maneuvered into the backseat. He feels Tony slide in beside him and the door shutting behind them, cutting out the light.

“You’re okay,” Tony whispers. “I’m going to put something on your head. Is that okay?”

Slowly, Peter nods. He grimaces as he feels Tony pull something over his head and within a half second, everything becomes nothing.

He must sway, because he feels strong hands catch his shoulders. “Woah there kiddo, easy does it.” The hands pull him back until he’s laying against the seat, head tilted back towards the ceiling and feeling more relieved than he ever has in his life. “Can you hear me Petey?”

“Yeah,” Peter croaks, and lets out a thready laugh when it doesn’t feel like acid leaving his throat.

“Good, that’s good. How’re you feeling?”

“B-better. Thanks.”

“No problem,” Tony says. “Though you definitely succeeded in giving me and your friend Ted a good scare. Christ, kid. You're lucky he called me! What were you thinking going to school with a sensory overload like that?”

Peter doesn’t really have the energy to articulate, lost in the blissful numbness of his relief. He sags further into the upholstery, relishing in everything he can’t feel. “Sorry,” he murmurs eventually, “thought I could handle it.”

“Well obviously not,” Tony says. He’s annoyed, but worried too. Peter can tell. This isn’t the first time something like this has happened, after all. “You’ve got to start taking better care of yourself Pete. We’ve talked about this! When your senses go haywire, use the goddamn mask we designed. It’s not exactly rocket science-”

“I know,” Peter breathes, regret stinging at his eyes. “I know.”

Tony sighs. It fills the space between them and sits heavy. “Then why do you keep doing this to yourself? You know I have a heart condition. It’s not exactly good for my health to see my kid unresponsive and suffering. Pepper will chew you out for this later, I swear to God-”

But the threat is empty. Despite it all, Peter feels his lips turning into a smile. His exhausted mess of a brain is fixated on one of Tony’s words. If he weren’t half way to oblivion he never would’ve had the guts to repeat it. “Your kid?”

There’s a short silence. “Shut up. You’re delirious. It’s nap time.”

Peter’s smile persists as he feels Tony click a seatbelt over his chest. He hears the door open, hears Ned’s panicked voice and Tony’s assuring one. He wants to lean over towards them, to thank Ned for saving the day, but somewhere along the way he loses his grip on reality all together.

By the time Tony closes the door, Peter is asleep.

[the-knight-of-the-stars]

Echoes: a Descendants Fanfic

The children of the isle, and the children of Auradon, are now lost and alone in an unknown world.

Can they remember the truth? Can they remember who they really are? Is it possible for them to find their way back home?

All they have left, are the echoes from another life...

Chapter 1: Uma

His large, calloused hand slowly caressed her cheek. She could feel the heat radiating from his body, the wood smell of his clothes. How sweet it felt to be around him. Hot specks of ash flew around them, amid a thunderous sound of revolts, screams, some crackling fire. It looked like the end of the world. Through a haze, she blurred a pair of blue eyes full of melancholy, a sadness weighing on him.

"Come on Hook, I'll always be a just step away from you, " she said in a voice she didn't recognize.

"I know, we are light from the same star, right?" His deep voice slipped from his lips, tears streaming down his dirty face. Behind him, a pulsing red light blinded them, giving the young man the mythical appearance of a fiery creature. He leaned in, bringing their foreheads together in a desperate attempt to feel her close one last time "Goodbye, Uma ..."

Her eyes snapped open, her heart pounded. His words still echoed in her head, she still felt that suffocating heat, the chaotic sensation, and the sadness that vision had caused her. It had been brief, but still, she felt like she had been sleeping for days like she didn't think she would ever be able to wake up. But now the cold of the undaunted room made her hair stand on end and reminded her that it had all been a dream. She blinked several times, barely realizing she was clinging tightly to the sheets, making sure she had returned to reality. She put her hand to her heart and felt it pounding and excited. It felt alive. "I miss you," she thought, closing her eyes to that strange and familiar feeling, "Even if I don't know who you are."

Uma watched the snowfall through the grimy window and found that just as it had happened every day in that dead tundra, the sun had not risen. In that forgotten corner of fleeting feelings, only the gloom remained. Without fire, without chaos, there was no one by her side. Her breath resonated on the icy upholstered walls as if floating in the heavy silence that only abandoned houses have, that sad emptiness of having had and have lost. She got up from the bed.

But of course, Uma couldn't remember ever having anything. That loss was all she knew. All that remained inside her, like a luminous lamppost guiding her, was the hope that one day she would be able to recover everything she had lost. She walked through the lonely house, her long blue hair falling like soft clouds over her naked body, two small front braids, eternally tied, from which hung small amulets whose meanings she did not know. Only the heavy wool blanket that had wrapped her up during the night covered her.

Just like every day, Uma went to the small kitchen, lit the oil lamps, and started to heat the tea. Outside, the wind whistled, and as she cracked two eggs on a frying pan, the heat of the kitchen reminded her of her dream. Fire, ash, the musty smell of gunpowder and blood, the boy with blue eyes. That was her dream. Over and over, that vision haunted her at night. He had lost count of how many times she had had that same dream, always the same, always leaving her with that feeling that she did not understand, but could not get rid of. "I miss you".

Something inside Uma told her that there was a reason why it felt so real, why it kept popping up in her mind. It was more than a dream, it was a memory. But she couldn't be sure, Uma wasn't sure about anything. As far as she knew, that exciting memory could only be an invention of her mind.

In town, they called her a witch. They said that magic had destroyed her mind, and that was why she did not remember who she was. Maybe they were right. Maybe that sad-eyed boy she called "Hook" wasn't real, it was just magic confusing her mind. As Uma ate her breakfast, listening in the distance to the howling laughter of the forest elves, she couldn't help but feel once again disappointed that the dream hadn't changed. Why couldn't she remember more? She sipped her tea and tried to forget about it.

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

The last fishermen of the town began to gather their nets with slow and tired movements. It had been a long day. Uma said goodbye to them with a kiss thrown into the air, as was the tradition, and they responded in the same way, thanking her for the help and hard work. The dogs surrounded her amid joyous barking, and she had to dodge them laughing, as she walked away carrying her own basket overflowing with fish. In front of her stood the messy mound of windows, balconies, doors, and chimeneas. Uma had always thought that those particular tower-towns so common in the northern lands, looked like a tree made of houses stuck together. An oasis by the sea, a refuge from that mysterious, cold, and hostile land.

She entered the city swinging her basket, she knew perfectly the path between that maze of stairs. Here, the air was different, it smelled of bread, sweat, coal, human heat. It was more joyous, more comforting. Uma found the company she needed just by seeing the townspeople in their daily life while continuing to climb to the top. Boys hauling lumber, up alleys with the day's game on their backs, people on balconies spreading clothes, shaking rugs, or lighting lanterns. She paused for a moment, daring to look back, to see the huge sea from above.

Up there, where she was at the height of the birds flying and the trees seemed tiny, Uma stopped feeling so alone. Up there, among the wind, the heat, the flowers in the windows, the amber lights in the houses, and the noise of the people, even if it was only for an instant, Uma could almost feel normal, like someone loved, like someone human. And that was precisely what had motivated her to dream of one day, to be able to raise enough money to buy a little house in the highest part of town, where she could wake up every day in the midst of that joyous daily life, where she could finally feel that she was someone.

Finally, Uma reached her destination. She entered the narrow, candlelit establishment and approached the counter. She put the basket on the floor, and a skinny girl came out from the back.

"Uma! How are you? How are things going down there on the plain?" The girl greeted her with a charming smile. Uma shrugged, returning the smile.

" Hi Ruba, you know, cold as always ... I brought fish" replied Uma, smiling fondly at the girl in the store.

"I see they had good fishing today, right?" Ruba looked at her excitedly, and Uma only answered with her head "Well! How much do you want for it? It looks very good, how about 60 coins?"

"Are you crazy? Your mother would kill me if she finds out you gave me that much money" said Uma, laughing slightly. The girl from the store smiled, pleased to see her happy, and handed her a bag of fifty coins on the counter.

"Come on, take them, " Ruba said with a wink. "My mother doesn't have to know ..." Uma laughed again, slightly flushed.

"If you insist" she answered taking the bag and weighing it on her hand with pride. Ruba sighed with a huge smile.

"You know? I don't even think mother notices ... She is too busy licking a foreigner's boots" Ruba whispered with an amused tone "They say he came from the warm lands of the south and we are renting him my brother's room, you should have seen his face, He is furious to have to sleep on the kitchen floor, but he had no choice ..."

"He comes from the warm lands?" Asked Uma intrigued "And how is he?"

"Well, he is tall and handsome ... He's tanned, you know, like the people of the South ... He came on the train dressed as a prince with a ruffled suit and a suitcase full of wonders ..." Ruba explained with bright eyes of emotion "I'm sure he would love to meet you!"

"Me? Why?"

"Because you are a witch, you are the best that´s ever happened in this boring town ..."

"Thank you?"

"Oh, I almost forgot! I wanted to give you something… " Ruba said happily and took out from the folds of her dress a small wrapped package.

"To me?" Uma asked, surprised, and happy. No one had given her a gift since her teacher had died.

"The stranger brought us gifts from the south, you know, for letting him stay, and I thought why not give one to my favorite witch?" Ruba admitted, blushing a little. Uma smiled gratefully and took Ruba's hand in a happy squeeze.

"Thank you, Ruba, for everything ... You are the best friend I have made in this town ..." answered Uma, delicately keeping the gift in its folds. Ruba smiled from ear to ear.

"And you are mine, Witch ..."

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

Night fell, heavy and freezing on the plain. By the time Uma returned home, the darkness was almost absolute. Despite carrying a flashlight, she had to tap the walls for a long time to find the door. When she entered, the wall of enchanted tapestries greatly lessened the cold and the furious roar of the night wind. As soon as the door closed behind her, Uma dropped to the floor, exhausted, looking at the small hall of the house. Silence, again that deadly silence. With ragged breathing, she decided that she would stay there until her muscles relaxed, and she leaned against the wall, staring blankly, imagining not having to go back to that empty and distant house every day. She took off her coat, brushing dust and snow from her hair. In her pocket, she felt the small wrapped package that Ruba had given her, and Uma smiled again as she took it out. A gift from the south.

What wonders could come from those lands? Uma couldn't even imagine it. That northern land had been all she knew, all that interested her. That was what her teacher, the witch Aida, had taught her. Five years had passed since the villagers had found her, so cold and pale, that they had thought she was a corpse. They said that she came from the sea during a stormy night, an unconscious body that the waves threw to the beach. Villagers had given her a two-day funeral and attempted to bury her in an unmarked grave. But when the first earth fist was placed on her, she woke up. The frightened villagers took her with the only person in miles around who knew about the mysterious affairs of the world: Aida, the old witch of the forest.

Before that, Uma had no memories. She didn't know who she was, what she was, or where she came from. She only remembered the sea, the lightning, and the feeling of having lost something. Old Aida had taken her, cared for her, fed her, healed her wounds. She was the one who helped Uma overcome the shock and discovered that she knew how to speak, write, knew about the things of the world. But she still didn't know anything about herself. "You are a witch," her teacher had told her. "I can feel your magic, you probably got into forces that you shouldn't have, and this is the price you must pay. " After six months, Uma began to dream about the blue-eyed boy. And because of that dream, that memory, Uma was able to remember her name. Aida tried spells to make her remember more but never succeeded, and all Uma was left with was that fuzzy image of a world on fire.

Aida was a traditional woman, who during the time she met her taught her to rejoice in the little things in life, to cook, to attract fish, to become human again. And a year ago the old woman had died, sitting in her chair, leaving Uma with one last lesson to learn: how to survive alone. And Uma had learned, hunting her food and selling the fish that she trapped to the town's merchants, little by little, learning to make friends, to be kind to people, to trust them. Rarely did Uma think of the possibility that the world existed beyond that frozen region, that magic-filled forest, and that sparkling sea.

Uma untied the laces of Ruba's gift, thinking about her teacher, for the first time wondering if, in other lands, she could stop feeling the emptiness that consumed her inside.

She unwrapped the slip of paper, and a gold ring fell into her open hand. As soon as the metal touched her skin, Uma felt a jolt that shook her heart, like an electric shock that tore out the air, while in her head the vision of the boy with blue eyes appeared again, and his voice repeating the same words in an infinite cycle "We are light from the same star".

"Harry ..." she whispered as if her soul was breathing for the very first time "I remember you ..."

Also available on Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25621861/chapters/62193694

[bearseokie]

Working Other Occupations | GOT7

got7 m.list | navi.

Mark: Gas Station Clerk;

knows everyone because his store is so busy

the store has two checkout lines, but his is always the longest

knows the best brands in the stores, constantly recommends them

gets frozen yogurt every day, collects his spoons

never leaves the slushie machine alone, his tongue is always red or blue

hates cleaning the bathrooms

prefers the night shift over the morning shift

blasts music

begs people that buy cigarettes to try quitting by chewing gum

steals energy drinks

pays for people's items when they don't have enough to cover it

smiles at everyone for no reason

found a stray cat behind the store, named it and deemed it the gas station kitty

stands at the counter, refuses to sit down

raps to songs playing while he restocks

runs around the counter to open the door for elders

challenges himself to see how long he can stand in the freezer

befriends the cook that makes hot food so he gets free meals

pumps gas for his friends and elders so he knows they get taken care of

hoodies

Jaebeom: Mechanic;

works on vehicles part time

gets stuck somewhere almost every day. once it was his hand in the exhaust pipe. once his entire body got stuck between the bottom of a truck and the creeper. it was a funny call for help.

wears a black jumpsuit and boots every day, loves that his name is embroidered onto his uniform.

blasts alternative music in the shop

thinks his job is like math

all of his co-workers are buff dudes with tattoos, and he admits he looks out of place

long hair that gets caught in Everything

sits on the creeper and rides it around when he's too lazy to stand up

is actually really good at his job, and has never had a complaint

women stop by to request that "he must look at their car because the check engine is on" but it's just a glitch, he gets their number anyways

always offers to buy food for his co-workers when they've been working long hours

always is on coffee duty

keeps a jar of lollipops for the client’s kids

got pranked by his co-workers once, hopes it never happens again

they asked him to get into a car to check if the steering wheel was even, then they lifted the car. he was in the air, stuck for almost an hour while they worked on it because "it would be a waste of time to bring it back down to let him out", he still appreciates them though

knows a lot of the rich people in the area specifically because he works on their cars

loves working on Ferraris and Lamborghinis

got to drive both to test run them, he was in love

is always covered in grease and oil, smells like them too

rough hands

Jackson: Workout Trainer;

always wears black tank tops

goes into the gym to do his own workout before his client shows up

brings extra water

gets way too excited when his client wants to do another workout

has a personal connection to all of his clients

will treat them to meals and give gifts to support their hard work

all of his fits match

wears insoles for extra support and asks his clients to get them too so they won't be as sore

is naturally loud but is quiet when he works out / when he is watching over a client

real bike rides & hikes

always makes clients start off with the basics, the smallest weights, shorter movements even if they are familiar with the workout / equipment

wears sweat bands like they're actual accessories

messes around from time to time by "running" on the gazelle, skipping on the treadmill, swings from the pull-up bars

acts like he's done more than everyone else when they aren't paying attention

pretends he can't lift a heavy weight when his client tells him they don't know if they can, so they feel inspired to try and be better than him

the best spotter

gets angry at other people in the gym when they are checking out / flirting with his clients, tries to explain that they are focused

protein shakes that smell okay and taste awful but he considers them a necessity

headbands like he's in an 80's workout video

always bouncy and excited, even when he's tired

Jinyoung: Dental Receptionist;

holds his index finger up at people when he's in the middle of something

types very fast

will hang up on you if you're rude to him

is friends with all of the dentist's in the building, and constantly chats with them even if people are waiting for their appointment

dentist still hasn't come back? they're talking to jinyoung

has a jar of mints on his desk, never offers them to anyone

is only nice to kids

bought new toys for the kid's waiting room because the old ones were boring, now none of them make noise but are enough to busy them

will purposely shred important papers just to give people a hard time

hates his desk chair

plays generic stock music in the office

goes through pens like crazy

hates check-in calls to remind people of their appointments, so he doesn't even do them most of the time and just hopes for the best

no insurance? sucks for you now you have a bill in your name

staples aggressively

plays solitare

makes the waiting room freezing while he's perfectly fine

gets up in the middle of someone checking in to walk around doing nothing until he feels like coming back

shows no emotion unless he hears a kid laughing

waves goodbye instead of telling people to have a good day / evening

Youngjae: Librarian;

shushes people that shush others

sneaks up behind people when they are focused

laughs way too loud and bothers everyone

the scanners hate him so much that they will glitch and shut down the entire computer

wears plaid pants and comfy tees, pushed back hair and glasses, never wears his contacts to work

brings his own lunch / snacks but still buys things from the staff room's vending machine

plays music in his earbuds when restocking and reorganizing

puts his own name down for newly released dvds so he gets to watch them first

carries a backpack of random stuff for when he gets bored

doesn't actually like books that much

accidentally sings at full volume to the music in his ears

buys stickers to give to the kids when they check out their books

runs up and down the aisles when no one else is around

recommends the same four books to everyone

writes in his notebook for half of his shift

when the kids get lost from their parents, he holds their hand and lets them hang out with him at his counter while he calls over the intercom

thinks there should be a bigger music section

wears a watch but still stares at the wall clock

bad sleep schedule so he's always dozing off

loves decorating the library with themes

Bambam: Retail Employee;

very sassy

wears brands even his own store doesn't sell

is actually the nicest person ever to work in retail

fingertip length organized racks

perfectly folds Everything because he believes presentation is one of the most important features of anything

will change a mannequin while people are shopping if he hates the fit enough

rants about how more people should thrift clothing instead of buying new things every time because it's better for the environment to recycle and benefits & supports local thrift stores

holds up clothes when people are checking out and compliments their taste

actually enjoys comfy clothing over designer, but will never admit it

takes a whole shift just to choose one pair of shoes to put on display

loves when kids ask his opinion on what they should get

spends his breaks looking over the jewelry section

steals candles

hates when people mess up the t-shirt section because he always has to fix it

electric shopping cart races

always has his long sleeve uniform shirts rolled up to his elbow

has knowledge of the best makeup brands in the store

severe hatred for the low-quality tees with weird quotes on them

loves all of the jeans with rips in them and always recommends them to customers

can make the floors so shiny he sees his own reflection in it

Yugyeom: Roller-Rink Employee;

part time dj, part time employee

puts on his favorite beats and skates around until he has to switch songs

kids try to climb him because he's so tall

has multiple pairs of skates for different days of the week

skates backwards

big shirts and ripped jeans

usually the leader of kid's birthday parties

held one of the parties and became the special guest because all of the girls loved him so much, they made him their prince for the day

loves watching people hold on to the walkers because it's funny

teaches old people how to skate safely by holding onto the edge of the rink

has to make the girls that flock around his booth find another activity to do

aggressively competitive lazer tag player, always gets his vest on first so he gets a head start

drinks monsters like it's water

doesn't buy the food they make inside, just steals it

hates being on rollerskate duty, always has to clean them and restock them properly because the high school kids place them in random spots

dyes his hair a different color every month

thinks the blacklight is the coolest feature of the entire rink

has so many high scores on the old arcade machines that kids cry trying to beat him, he buys them candy so they stop being upset

decorates the dj booth with neon colors

once got stuck putting his arm into the claw machine trying to get a toy that he wanted for himself

[solastia]

The Dragon’s Lair | 5

Pairing: Dragon Hybrid Namjoon x Reader

Word Count: 2,872

A/N: The smut is here! It’s a little short, since it’s been crazy at work, but I wanted to give you guys something. It’s also pretty vanilla since it’s Dragon Joonie’s first time, but boy will learn some things eventually. The spoiler for the next chapter is: We meet a new hybrid that likes riddles ;) 

One of the most charming features of aging homes is their ability to fall apart during the least convenient times. Like how the power has currently gone out in the middle of a snowstorm and you can’t get a hold of anyone to come out and fix it because it’s too late in the evening. 

You sigh as the air in the big house begins to take on a sharp bite, rubbing your arms as you assess your stack of wood next to the already blazing fireplace. This should be enough to get you through the evening and maybe into the next afternoon. You’d already braved the storm to take all of the food to the barn where there was an extra fridge and freezer set up to a small generator, since this wasn’t exactly the first time this had happened. You’d have to pull the couch closer and sleep on it tonight if you wanted to stay warm - no way would a single fireplace be able to heat all the way to your bedroom. And you weren’t really sure how comfortable he’d be with his long ass legs, but if you could talk Namjoon into sleeping on the couch with you then you’d have the added bonus of the Dragon’s natural heat to help keep you warm too. 

As if you summoned him with your thoughts alone, Namjoon finally leaves his studio for the first time in several hours. He had been using the last bit of daylight to write in this huge notebook that he’d been toting around for a while (He still refuses to let you look, but he blushes so cutely whenever you ask that you let him get away with it). He looked unfairly comfortable wearing nothing but basketball shorts and a tank top, while you had thrown on a sweater and hoodie, sweats, thermals and three pairs of socks. He comes up and wraps his arms around your waist, humming into your hair as you turn back to the fireplace. 

“Still not able to get a hold of anyone?” 

“Nope,” you scoff. “Soonest anyone can be here is 2pm tomorrow.” 

“Mmm,” he hummed, “l guess we no choice but to turn in early tonight since there’s not much we can do without power or the ability to go outside.” 

“Yeah. Any chance you wanna sleep out on the couch with me?” 

“As if I can get any sleep with you off in another room,” he scoffs as he walks over to the couch. “It’ll be tight, but we can handle it.”

He pulls the couch closer to the fire and you whisper a silent apology to the old wooden flooring that was surely getting scratched underneath. 

“There,” he grunts, patting the cushions with a self-satisfied grin. “We can get cozy and I’ll read to you until we’re tired enough to go to sleep.” 

Namjoon splays himself across the couch, laying against the left armrest with a few pillows before he opens his arms. You smile and crawl in between his legs, using his chest as a pillow as you lay back and pull the couch blanket over the both of you. He reaches back and grabs the book he’d been reading the past couple of days and opens it to where he left off, clearing his throat before he starts reading. You don’t really listen to the words since he’s starting in the middle and you have no idea what happened before, but his deep voice and the rumbling in his chest vibrating against your back is comforting. 

From your place, you can look right out of the front room window and observe the wild storm. The howling wind is strong and shaking at your windows, but thankfully those at least are holding up. 

Namjoon pauses his reading for a moment to drink some water and you take the chance to mention something that had been bothering you. 

“I hope Mark doesn’t get sick again in this weather. This is so bad.” 

Namjoon rubs your arm comfortingly. “He’ll be fine. He’s got the eyes of a wizard on him at all times now. While hyung may not be able to stop the natural course of nature enough to make the storms cease - that I know of at least - he can certainly handle keeping a whelp warm. Not to mention, you made Mark promise to call you if anything happened again.” 

You had made him promise that - and he’d followed it almost too well. Since he’d recovered enough to get out of bed he often snatched Heechul’s phone and called you at least three times a day, sometimes over something as small as finding a butterfly. The strange thing was, you didn’t seem to mind. If anything, you found them reassuring since you’ve begun to worry about Mark nearly constantly. Realistically, you knew that Heechul was doing an amazing job keeping an eye on him as well as the other hybrids that had suffered under the eye of that horrible staff woman, but you worried anyway. 

Every time you made a meal, you hoped Mark was getting plenty of his own food too since he still had that slight gaunt look to him. You worried about him getting enough sleep, enough vitamins, if he was staying under his UV bulbs enough, if anyone had hugged him today. It was getting ridiculous. Why were you worrying so much about a child that wasn’t even yours? 

You sigh and burrow closer into the heated body behind you. Namjoon tried to act cool about it, but you knew he was just as attached to Mark. You’d even caught him calling Mark and lecturing him when the boy hadn’t gotten around to making his daily calls yet. 

If only he lived here you wouldn’t have to...

And the solution to your worries was so obvious you wanted to punch yourself in the face. Why couldn’t he live here? You had the room, he was one of the adoptable hybrids, the both of you already treated him like he was yours. You already had tons of rooms that you’d just have to fix up to make livable for the reptile hybrid. And you had no doubt Mark would be happy with the idea. 

Content with that settled in your mind, you finally focus on Namjoon’s voice again, a secret smile gracing your face as the Dragon’s deep rumbles and warmth soothed you. 

“You falling asleep, baby?” he whispered into your ear after a few moments. 

“No, just comfy.” 

“Mmm, yeah this is really nice.”

You heard a soft thunk as he set the book back on the table behind him then he slid his arms under the blanket to wrap around you, lacing his hands with yours. You could feel the warms puffs of breath against your neck as he nuzzled against you like a damn cat. 

“Doing okay back there?” you ask with amusement. 

He hums, “Yeah. You smell good.” 

Oh 

As if he’d flipped a switch, you begin to notice exactly where his mind is going as he somehow pulls you even closer and begins trailing gentle kisses on your neck. Not to mention the suddenly hard and heavily twitching thing that was poking into your lower back. 

“So what’s doing it for ya? The cat hoodie or the sweats with the oil stain on them?” 

He snickers lowly and presses a kiss against the side of your head. 

“Just you. You just smell so good and I love holding you like this. I was just thinking about how much I love you and how I wanted to be even closer to you. And...uh...well, that’s the only thing we haven't done yet.” 

You turn a little to study his face. 

“And you think you’re ready right now?” 

“Yeah. Always ready,” he chuckles with a self-deprecatory tone. “Just wanted to wait for the right moment, and I guess this is as good as it’s going to get. Cuddling on the couch with only firelight piercing the darkness. Your scent tickling my nose, teasing me.” 

Your breath hitches as Namjoon purposely lowers his voice, the deep tones of his words teasing as he presses soft kisses behind your ear. 

“Sit up for me, baby.” 

He helps you sit up on the edge of the couch then slides onto the floor, peeking up at you with a slight blush as he settles between your legs. 

“May I?” he asks softly as he pets your thighs. 

The sight of Namjoon on his knees like that makes you quiver with anticipation. 

“Yeah,” you tell him breathlessly, scooting up a little to help him as he begins to pull your sweats and thermals off, throwing them behind him (thankfully nowhere near the fireplace. You checked. It was still Namjoon after all). 

“Cute,” he mumbles, playing with the lace on your admittedly not very sexy strawberry panties. He softly caresses the outside of the fabric, making you whimper. 

He nuzzles the inside of your thigh and presses a soft kiss to it, looking up at you with wide eyes that would look almost innocent if it weren’t for the slight smirk he was sporting. He pulls the fabric of your panties to the side, taking a moment to just inspect it, embarrassingly enough. You had to remind yourself this was technically his first time so naturally he’d be curious. 

Without warning, he leans forward and licks through your folds and suckles your clit hard like a pro. 

“Oh, Namjoon.” 

He hums, his tongue working furiously against you like a man starved. He pauses and moves a thumb to your clit, rubbing at a medium pace as he holds a couple of fingers to your lips. 

“Get them wet for me, baby?” 

You open your mouth and he slides them in, watching avidly as your tongue darts out to wet the digits. You circle his fingers with a teasing grin, biting the tips softly. He growls and the sound goes straight to your core. 

He slides his fingers out of your mouth and slowly pushes them into you, meeting little resistance. You could hear him pumping them in and out, slick with your juices. He moans and leans over to tongue at you again, flicking against your clit. You whine and buck against his mouth, thinking that of course he was a fucking natural at this. And those big beautiful lips felt so good against you. 

“So good. You taste so fucking good,” he groans, voice already sounding wrecked. And you swore he was trying to sneakily hump the couch, which only made it hotter. He was so excited just from eating you out. 

Suddenly he stopped, whining as he gripped the front of his shorts. He closed his eyes and panted for a few moments before they shot open and he set his jaw, looking at you with desperation. 

“I need to...you know...like now. Is that okay?”

You inhaled sharply, trying to come back from the god damned ninth form of heaven those lips had sent you to. 

You grin, slightly happy for the reminder that this was actually his first time. His tongue had fooled you into forgetting that for a while, but now he seemed willing to go back to taking direction.

“Of course, sweetheart. How do you want me? Want me to ride you?” 

His jaw dropped and he nodded frantically, quickly jumping up and kicking off his shorts before sitting on the couch. He widened his legs and watched you crawl over as his cock visibly twitched in anticipation. 

You straddled his lap and lined him up with one hand, using the other to grip his shoulder to brace yourself. He bit his lip as you rubbed him against yourself, smearing your juices on him to ease the way. Sweat was beading across his brow as he held himself back from moving. 

You exhaled slowly as you eased down, Namjoon’s girth stretching you further than you’d ever gone before. He reached around to grab your waist, just holding you and not directing you at all. You pause to let yourself adjust and to tear off your shirt and hoodie, then raise yourself up nearly to the tip before dropping back down all of the way.

“You good, Joonie?” 

“Yeah,” he nods, answering like he was grinding his jaw while he stared at your now bare breasts right in front of his face. “You feel so good. So soft and warm. I’m trying so hard to not cum.” 

“I know, sweetheart.  I’ll try to keep this quick and you can cum whenever you want.” 

You increased your pace, riding him with your hands gripping his shoulders to keep you steady. 

“So beautiful,” he grunted. “Finally have all of you. I’m so happy.” 

You rolled your hips against him, whining and tucking your head against his neck. You kissed and nibbled the skin there as you rode him as hard as you could. You reached down and moved one of his hands to your clit, showing him what you needed. He eagerly began rubbing you, bringing you even closer to the edge. 

He sucked one of your nipples into his mouth, tonguing it and giving it a sweet little nip before he moved over to the other one. His grip on your waist tightened as you began to slow down, and he smoothly started to take over, bringing you down on his cock with powerful thrusts. His hands moved down to your ass, cupping them with his huge hands as he took full control. 

“So wet, baby. You feel so fucking good,” he growled, bringing his forehead to yours, staring at you intensely. 

“Mine. Tell me.”

His eyes were more vivid than you’d ever seen them, practically sparkling as stared at you. His skin felt like lava, and you were almost certain that you felt claw tips pricking your behind. Namjoon was practically going feral and you loved it. 

“Yours. Been yours since the moment I saw you, Namjoon. I love you.” 

His hips sped up at your words, the slapping of skin against skin echoing in the silent room. You soon became incapable of doing anything but panting and moaning as Namjoon fucked into you with a speed that you didn’t know he was capable of. 

“Joon, I’m gonna - “

“Go ahead, baby. I’m right there with you,” he growled, bringing one hand to your clit and rubbing viciously. 

You throw your head back and moan loudly as your muscles clench and twitch. Namjoon grunts and drops his head against the couch, sighing loudly as he follows you off the edge. It’s not until you begin to come down and think clearly again that you realize he’s dripping out of you and that you just let him take you completely raw. However, your bones feel like jelly and the Dragon underneath you looks close to passing out, so you figure that’s a conversation for another day. 

“You good?” you ask, still draped across his chest. You reach up and caress his cheek, and he reaches up to hold your hand there for a moment before bringing it to his lips. 

“Yeah. Totally worth the wait.”

You chuckle quietly. “I’m glad. Want anything to eat? I kept the stuff for PB&J Sandwiches inside since it doesn’t need to be refrigerated.” 

“Maybe later. Kinda wanna stay like this for a while,” he grinned, bucking up a little like you needed to be reminded that he was still inside you. And...not growing very soft? 

He noticed your unasked question in your eyes, shrugging. “Dragon stamina?” 

You shrugged back. You’d long ago stopped questioning much. 

You hummed and laid your head against his chest, uncaring that it was slightly sweaty. You stroked his beautiful skin...skin that still looked slightly unusual in color. You were pretty sure that his scales were trying to break through, but he was still too self-conscious about it to let them. You reached up to his hair under the guise of playing with the strands, and sure enough, you found two little bumps on either side of his scalp, like even his horns had tried to come through. 

That sex with you was so exhilarating to him that he nearly lost control and shifted was flattering. That he still fought it off and apparently was still too worried to show you was not. You’d have to figure out some way to make him comfortable enough to show you.

You sigh and cuddle closer to him, nuzzling against his chest. 

“I love you, Namjoon. You know that, right?” 

He wraps his arms around you tightly, kissing the top of your head. 

“Of course. I love you too. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” 

You smile happily, content with that for now, although you still had work to do to get him to trust you fully. 

You close your eyes and start to doze off, only to be startled awake as an unrepentant dragon smirks down at you as he rolls his hips against you. It was apparently going to be a very long night. 

At least you weren’t cold. 

[the-fiction-witch]

Boy You Gross

REAL LIFE: SCANDAL COUPLE: TBS X READER RATING: FUNNY AF

"Hello everyone! what am I doing today!" Y/n smiled from her dining table with Thomas sat in the other chair beside her "I know I set up a shooting space! are you proud of me?"

"A little,  assumed we were just going to see the vlogging camera like you usually do" Thomas said "But all you did was clear your table, turn a light on and put your camera on a tripod"

"Shhhh... shhh your noise hole," she says putting a hand over his mouth "Right. The point of the video! we are going to be trading.... let's call it wash products. for one month"

"I'm gonna smell like you"

"You are Thomas. and I am going to smell like you.... why did I make this a video concept?"

"I don't know, why did you do that?"

"I thought it would be interesting." she says "so, Shampoo. body wash, handsoap, lotion, razors, deodorant" she explained "It was also going to be toothpaste and then I realized that I can't trade that with you because I have allergies"

"Ohh shit yeah... I didn't think about that."

"Yeah I didn't until about five minutes ago while I was making us cups of tea" she explained "Are you excited to... have my stuff?"

"Slightly I'm excited about your shampoo because your shampoo is amazing,"

"Do you have any theory about this next month?"

"I think I'm going to be sweaty because from what I have been informed women's deodorant isn't as strong as men's, and I also think I'm going to not like the amount of stuff I'm about to have stuffed in my bathroom"

"I think I'm going to get mad. Because I worry about not having my own shampoo not having my own lotions, I am a fancy lady and I don't think I'm going to like the... like Superdrug bullshit you probably have," she explained "I think my hair and my face is going to get really mad about this, alright let's get going gentlemen first. also because I think you have less tuff them me"

"I also think I have less stuff then you" he laughs grabbing something from under the table and slamming the blue bottle on the table

"and this is?"

"uhhhh.... wash. of some sort" He answered

"it says shampoo.... Ohh no." she laughed taking the bottle "3 in one. ohh god my hair is not going to like this. any woman who has thick hair knows the pain I currently feel in my heart. why is all men's stuff like this?"

"I don't know, thing is I'm like the only one of my friends so has specific shampoo and body wash like separately every other guy I know they're the same thing"

"Yeah because you like having fluffy hair" she laughs "that and your mum I assume would have been very strict on that matter, I have met your mother I feel like that something she would enforce"

"very much so"

"Hang on?.... there's only like half a bottle in here do you only get half a bottle?"

"no, I've been using it"

"wait- Thomas did you just take this from your bathroom this morning?"

"yes..."

Y/n then starts laughing like a crazy person "I went and bought like a set like of everything I usually use. I wasn't going to just give you the ones out my bathroom"

"Ooohh..."

"Are they all just literally picked up from the bathroom?"

"Yes. none of them are new"

"you dick"

"I was not informed that was a rule"

"It as heavily Implied Thomas!"

"fine, I am still mad though" Y/n sighed moving it to the side "You want your shampoo?"

"Yes!"

"You already know what it is" she laughs putting two red bottles on the table "Shampoo and conditioner, you are going to have to condition your hair"

"I condition it... like every six months when I can be bothered"

"You gonna be so fluffy"

"I am, this is what I need though, so I'm not weird for like sniffing your head. I need to just buy a bottle of this"

"just to sniff?"

"yes, because it sells amazing"

"Also don't throw the bottles away"

"why not?"

"Because you can go back to the shop and they'll refill it for you so you reuse the bottle"

"They do?"

"yeah, you don't pay as much either for a new bottle. better for the environment"

"you are such a hippie"

"Ohh we haven't even got to the most hippie parts yet" she says "Next?"

"body wash right?"

"yes thomas"

"here you go. this is the current one anyway it changed every... so often mostly what's cheaper, what I can get, what people buy me for Christmas"

"Ummm you didn't smell like this last year" she laughs "Ohh dear fucking god" she complained picking up  a hair from the bottle "This better be off your head. or I may murder you, Thomas"

"I think so, I don't really grow hair anywhere else so..."

"Alright, Boy you gross" she complained "Here, go nuts" she sighed handing him the blue bar of soap

"yes!"

"He also steals this. often. like every time you stay and have a bath at mine you always steal my soap"

"I do, your stuff smells nice. plus it makes your skin go blue for like five minutes which is great because you know if you missed anywhere"

"Because it's fancy" she smiled "You actually bought me this. I think for my birthday, or Christmas one year this particular soap and I have been using it religiously ever since because it smells great"

"Yeah I did buy you it. because it was Christmas and I was doing my shopping and I was wondering around oxford street and I had done everything else I needed one more thing for you and one more thing for my sister, and I thought about you being a little hippie so I went to lush's massive store in oxford street, and a woman working there said it was good so I grabbed it and got ava like a bunch of the small bath bombs they do around then."

"I don't adore lush. but this soap is good. they'll probably discontinue it in six months"

"If they do I'll go and just buy you in in bulk just like all of it that they have"

"Aww thank you, right next I use that for my hands so It's just you"

"yes, it has a fish on it" he smiled

"Does this come from like Tesco?"

"yes. Sainsbury's actually."

"Goddamit Thomas" y/n sighed "I knew this as what I was getting! I fucking knew it" she complained "I can't even recycle the bottle because of the type of plastic. I'm so mad at you right now" she whines "I will reuse this. somehow... I will fin a use for this bottle"

"Can't I have it back?"

"No!" she complained "lotion time, this is actually only half my lotion stuff because there is no reason for me to give you the other one I use2

"why not?"

"Because its specifical tattoo lotion and you do not have any. I will keep that because I still have one healing so I need it"

"That's fair, you get to use this" he smirked

"Nooo..." she whines "You and goddam plastic bottles Thomas, this is just face though?"

"I know, but I use it for everywhere because I don't shave that often"

"That is perfect just... man logic. its lotion so I can use it everywhere, its soap it washes all of me. I don't know why men think this way."

"I have no idea. but we do"

"you do, it all smells like you though. to be fair they have all been sat in your bathroom for god knows how long so that's going to help. deodorant!"

"here, you steal this from me. so often it's unbelievable. anytime you around mine and you think you smell bad you instantly steal this" he laughs

"I do, men's stuff is way stronger, plus this... this is Thomas' smell like bottled. just add like motorbike oil to this smell and. that is what he smells like"

"See I do smell nice"

"It's not nice. like I'm not going to say its a pleasant smell because like most men's stuff its aggressive and manly so it's not nice. but its.... comforting. I think because I associate the smell with you. so it's like getting a hug when I smell it, want your's" she smirked and dropped a box on the table

"the fuck is this?"

"This is deodorant"

"No... it looks like a block of cheese!"

"well that's what is going to stop you smelling like sweat"

"I would... like to preemptively apologize to anyone who is going to hug me this month," he says "How do I use this? do I need to wet it like soap?"

"No, you just rub it on you" she laughs "You wanna see the razor now?

"Hit me," he asked she then put on a safety razor "The fuck is this?"

"your razor for a month this is what a lot of people used back in the sixties and such before plastic razors were as much of a thing. also, plastic razors can fuck off"

"oh... well. here's your plastic razor"

"Noooo! Thomas!" she whines "Please tell me it's new"

"The pack of them was in my bathroom, but I have not used this one"

"Alright. I'm mad though. You can keep that because I bought it for this. No more plastic razors Thomas!"

"Aww thank you. its scary though"

"it is. but its better. better for the turtles"

"yes, like straws... I have a glass straw now that I carry around in my car because of you"

"good."

"Goddam hippie"

"You also have a bamboo toothbrush which again I bought you. because... plastic bad"

"It is nice though. it has a little turtle on it"

"You are such a child, Honestly I'm surprised none of this was star wars themed"

"I have star wars themed bubble bath"

"Do you?"

"Yes, its in a Darth vaders head-shaped bottle"

"You god dam five year old"

[asthora]

Fruit

A fenhawke one shot I wrote based on a prompt a friend sent me! I am currently living in fenhawke hell and loving every minute!!!

~~

They’re in Lowtown today looking for an Antivan merchant named Vincento. They find him in the bazaar selling odds and ends, broken plates of armor and dull daggers that make Isabela cringe. Hawke gets the information out of him easily, he’s not hard to startle, but it leads their search to a temporary dead end and Hawke is left standing in the street with her companions, watching as Vincento hurriedly packs up his pitiful wares and runs off towards the docks.

“Well,” Hawke sighs as she watches him scurry away. “That was helpful I suppose but Samson doesn’t come slinking out until after sunset. Should we head to the Hanged Man?”

“You know me Hawke,” Isabela says with a wink. “I’m always game to start drinking early.”

“Anders?”

He smiles his easy, gentle smile. “I could certainly go for a pint.”

“Only a pint, magey? What about a couple of shots and we see where you can put that staff of yours?” Isabela purrs, tugging on the collar of Ander’s coat.

He blushes and swats her hand away. “We’ve still got work to do, Isabela.”

The Rivani pouts. “All work and no play makes Anders a dull boy. What about you, Hawke? Up for shots and a bit of wrestling?”

“As long as we aren’t drinking rum I’m fine with whatever.” Hawke says, her eyes sweeping across the bazaar. “By the way, has anyone seen Fenris?”

Her companions shake their heads.

Hawke bites her lip and her hand twitches towards her staff. It’s midafternoon in Lowtown. Apart from the occasional pickpocket or footpad, Lowtown is normally peaceful during this time of day. It’s when night falls that you have to watch out for ambushes and bandits. She isn’t crazy, Fenris was just here. He’d been quiet the whole day, not very happy that she’d brought Anders along to find Feynriel, but he’d been by her side since early morning when they traveled to the alienage. It’s more likely he roamed off rather than some Lowtown cutthroat pulling him into the shadows.

Anders lets out a long sigh and leans against his staff. “I’m sure he’s just wandered off, Hawke. Probably to go piss in a corner like the dog he is.”

“Maker, Anders. Really?”

“Why don’t Anders and I head to the Hanged Man and you catch up when you find the pretty boy?” Isabela smiles, stepping between the two. “Sound like a plan?”

Hawke nods but she’s not really listening anymore, nor does she really care about Ander’s snide remarks. Isabela steers Anders in the direction of the Hanged Man while she scans the stalls again, looking for a familiar head of white hair among the midafternoon crowd. It’s hot today, even more so with the dozens of people who flit from stall to stall, and she sweats uncomfortably as she meanders through the crowd. Hawke checks the weapons stand first then the man who sells plated armor and robes. No luck.

She’s getting nervous now. Fenris never just wanders off. He’s quiet, sure, but he’s not one to just disappear into thin air without a reason. Hawke takes the steps up into the portion of the bazaar where vendors and shopkeepers sell spices, exotic fruits, brightly colored linens, and fresh meat. The smell here is different from the rest of Lowtown. That weird stretch that hangs over the city can’t seem to penetrate the aroma of cinnamon, incense, and cooking meat. She passes a vendor selling candles and body oils then another who’s handing out samples of whatever mystery meat he has roasting on a spit. She takes one and eats it, idly, as she shoulders her way through the throngs of people.

Finally, she sees him.

He’s tucked between a woman selling carpets and a family of dwarves hammering away at copper jewelry. Fenris is bent over a basket of fruit, something small and brown rolling around in his palm.

“There you are,” she says cheerily. “Thought I’d lost you to some Lowtown crime lord in the market for one glowy elf.”

Fenris glances over his shoulder. “I did not mean to worry you.”

She smiles, hoping it looks reassuring. “What did you find?”

He looks at his closed palm and frowns before opening his armored fingers to reveal a small brown fruit.

“What is this?” He asks, his brow furrowed.

Hawke laughs. “Why, it’s a kiwi. What, never seen a kiwi before?”

He shakes his head and Hawke feels a bit guilty for laughing. She hadn’t meant anything by it but Fenris’ look of bewilderment is just so...cute.

“And what is this?” He asks picking up a much larger fruit from the basket, this one in shades of red and yellow.

“It’s a mango,” she says. “Do they not eat fruit in Tevinter?”

Fenris shakes his head. “Danarius did not like foods like these.”

Hawke takes the kiwi from his palm and tosses it in the air. “Everyday I’m surprised by how much I can hate that man. Do you want to know a secret?”

Fenris looks up from the mango and nods. There’s a look of innocence on his face that makes Hawke’s heart beat fast in her chest. She leans in closer. He pulls back a bit but stops when he realizes she does not mean to touch him.

“When I first came to Kirkwall,” Hawke whispers. “I’d never seen food like this either. It’s not like mango trees and kiwi vines grow in Ferelden.”

He frowns again and looks back at the baskets of colorful fruit. He points to another, this one brown and fuzzy. “Did you know about those?”

“Coconuts?” She asks, following his finger. “I’d read about them in books.”

“Are they good?”

Hawke grins. “Do you want to try some?”

He nods and reaches for his coin purse but Hawke shakes her head. “I’m buying. Think of it as a thank you for saving my ass from that greatsword wielding bastard who almost cleaved my head in two yesterday.”

The corners of his mouth jerk as if to smile. “You should watch your right flank more closely.”

She shrugs. “I don’t have to if I’ve got you around.”

Maybe she’s imagining it, but Fenris’ cheeks turn pink. He looks away before she can be sure, once more bending over the baskets. She watches him sort through the different fruits, his careful fingers turning over mangoes and pomegranates, his touch gentle as if he is afraid the fruit might fall apart in his hands. She lets him pick whatever he wants and soon they have their own little basket overflowing with oranges, kiwis, pineapple, and a whole assortment of tropical fruits. She pays for it all like she promised, glad that he’ll at least allow her perform this simple act of friendship. Fenris doesn’t like actions he perceives as pity. Hawke wonders if this means he trusts her more, maybe thinks of her more as a friend rather than a raging apostate lunatic.

He tucks the basket under his arm proudly and Hawke’s heart does that weird fluttering thing again. Maker, she can’t be possibly falling for him, can she? That’s insane. Like he would share her affections anyway, he hates all things magic and she’s about as magic as they come save for Anders. But lately she’s noticed her cheeks growing warm when he smiles and a giddiness coursing through her veins when she sees him after several days away from the city. She hasn’t dared act on these feelings, afraid she’ll scare him off if she bats her eyelashes a little too hard. She wants him to know she’s a friend, not someone who feels sorry for him, not someone who wants to use him.

He surprises her when he gently touches her shoulder then points to an empty place on the steps. “Would you...like to sit down for a moment?”

Hawke nods. Her skin tingles where he touched her and she doesn’t trust her voice not to waver so she follows him to the stairs and sits beside him. She makes sure not to sit too close, but not too far away either. He seems comfortable, excited even, as he sets down the basket and grabs one of the kiwi.

“How do you eat it?”

“Well,” Hawke smiles, taking the fruit from his palm. “I normally cut it in half then scoop it out with a spoon but we can do this instead.” 

She takes her dagger from her boot, thanking the Maker she decided to clean off the raider blood this morning, and peels away the thin skin. She glances up at Fenris as she cuts a slice. His eyes are wide in wonder. 

“Here,” she says, offering him the slice off her dagger.

He has removed his spiked gauntlets so that his hands are bare. She marvels at his long tan fingers, his gentleness as he grabs the fruit. She has never seen his bare hands this close. The lyrium markings stretch down his fingers; white, silvery lines that she cannot help but think are beautiful despite their foul origin. He pops the kiwi in his mouth and his eyes go wide.

“It is good!” He announces, his lips stretching into a grin.

Hawke smiles and cuts herself a piece. “I think It’s one of my favorites.”

“It is sour,” he says, licking the juice from his fingers. “But also sweet.”

“We got a ripe one. Good eyes, Fen.” She says, bumping him playfully with her arm. She doesn’t realize what she has done until after several seconds pass and he has not leapt away from her sudden touch. He seems shocked at his own reaction as well, his fingers hovering over the kiwi she has offered him. 

“I’m sorry.” She says, glancing up at him, under her lashes.

His fingers twitch as if coming back to life and he takes the fruit and chews it slowly. “You did nothing wrong.” He says simply.

The tension between her shoulder blades relaxes. “Do you...want to try something else? What about the orange? We can save the pineapple for later.”

He nods and wipes his hands on his trousers before reaching for the orange. He turns it around in his hands then offers it to her. “How do you eat this one?”

Hawke sets down her knife. “This one is easy. I’ll let you do it. Dig your fingernail in right there and then peel the skin back.” 

“Here?”

Hawke raches out and with her own nail she makes a mark in the soft flesh. Her hand passes over his and her skin brushes against his own, the touch featherlight but enough to send electricity running down her arms. He flexes his fingers. Did he feel it too? She dares to look up at him, blue eyes connecting with green. That flush is back in his cheeks and Hawke realizes they are very close, so close she can smell him. He smells like leather and cloves and sweat. She takes a deep breath and holds it, committing the scent to memory.

Fenris blinks, his dark eyelashes fluttering. He rips his gaze away from her own, the action painfully slow. Her eyes linger on him for a moment longer before she looks back down at the orange. He begins pulling back the skin, the orange peel falling to the steps unceremoniously. He hands her a chunk of the soft fruit and they eat together. He smiles.

“It explodes in your mouth,” he says. “The juice is sweet.”

She nods. “We had oranges back in Lothering. They somehow could make the journey that far inland. If times were good Mother would  buy enough oranges to make a pitcher of juice.”

His eyes go wide. “And that is good?”

“I honestly think it is better than the oranges themselves. I’ll ask Mother to make you some. We haven’t had it in awhile anyway.”

“That would be nice.”

He smiles softly and they finish the rest of the orange in silence. She feels their small moment coming to a close and she hopes there are more moments like this in their future. For once, Fenris is unguarded, happy. Again she finds herself damning Danarius, hating him with every fiber of her being. He took so much from Fenris. Can she help him create a life? A life that he can call his own, one without masters and bad memories? Will these small moments eventually turn into longer ones? Or will the pain she sees etched on his face refuse to leave him?

She feels his walls go back up as he slips on his guantlants and fastens the leather straps. Hawke clears her throat and wipes her hands down her trousers, trying to find that easy grin she plasters on her face for the rest of the world to see.

“I told Anders and Isabela we would meet them in the Hanged Man.” She says, standing to her full height and stretching her arms above her head.

“Was it a wise decision to leave them alone?” Fenris asks, his lips turned up in a slight smile.

“Probably not!” She says brightly. “We might have to peel their drunk asses off the floor of the barroom! At least Varric will be around to help.”

Fenris chuckles and tucks the basket under his arms. “If that is the case, then we must hurry before they are too far gone. Lead the way, Hawke.”

Hawke turns on her heel and heads back into the bazaar towards the Hanged Man where she is sure her friends have already found themselves in some sort of trouble. She glances over her shoulder, making sure she hasn’t lost him in the crowd. He’s close. Her eyes catch his own and there is a moment that passes between them that she doesn’t think can be mistaken for anything but longing. She turns her head before it can disappear. A smile breaks on her lips and she welcomes her fluttering heartbeat.

[keeroo92]

Something Old, Something New

My spicy contribution for the SSS zine, featuring Nero and Kyrie on a very special night!

------

Nero barely breathed as Kyrie slid the keycard through to open the door to the honeymoon suite. Her gossamer wedding dress still clung to her frame, her spine in full view between layers of tasteful satin and lace. He’d been staring at it every chance he got - never had he seen her go without a bra.

At least, not in front of other people.

Heat bloomed in his cheeks and in his belly as he imagined dipping his fingers past the fabric to touch her skin, pulling moans from her lips, mapping her curves and worshipping her skin. Celebrating their new life together.

Speaking of…

“Wait,” he blurted as she pushed the door open. “I’m supposed to carry you, right?”

“If you want,” she replied with a shy glance, the tips of her ears turning an adorable shade of pink. That blush would cover her entire body in a few minutes, if he had his way.

He ignored the thought and scooped her up with a grin, kissing her before stepping through the doorway into a scene more terrifying than Hell itself.

Instrumental music played from a speaker sitting on a heavy-looking dresser. Rose petals dotted the floor, leading to a massive bed where a pair of fluffy handcuffs sat beside a ball gag, a whip, and several condoms of assorted sizes. Massage oils warmed on tiny burners and a myriad of candles flickered from almost every available surface, their shadows dancing on the walls. It was as if Valentine’s Day itself puked all over the room.

He was going to kill Nico.

Slowly.

Nero struggled not to groan. Trust the crazy weapons expert to book a room stuffed with this bullshit. He should’ve had Lady do it; she at least had some restraint. He hoped Kyrie didn’t take it to heart. The last thing he wanted was for her to feel uncomfortable. Or worse, pressured. 

Not on her wedding night, or any night thereafter.

He sucked his teeth and lowered Kyrie’s feet to the floor. If he just found the right words, maybe he could fix this. He had to try, at least. 

“Uh, sorry. This is kinda ridiculous, huh? I guess letting Nico handle it was a mistake.”

Kyrie stepped closer to the bed, her hips taunting him with each step. She ran the flower petals between her fingers and fiddled with the sex toys. Nero’s nerves jangled with each second she didn’t speak, but she was kind enough not to make him wait long, turning to face him with a hum of agreement, her eyes sparkling in the candlelight. She flicked a rose petal as his nose and giggled when it struck home. “Just a bit. The flowers are nice, though.”

He chuckled and scratched the back of his neck. Anxiety still tickled his mind, like he’d forgotten an important detail. Why was this so hard? Wasn’t it supposed to be easy? Maybe he was doing something wrong, or what if-

“Nero.”

His eyes snapped to hers, his train of thought derailed. “Huh?”

The smile on her lips as she reached for his restored right hand was angelic, far kinder than his idiot ass deserved. Well, as he said in his vows, he’d spend the rest of his life trying to be worthy of her. Time to get started.

He wove his fingers between hers as she spoke.

“Stop worrying. You’re my husband now, you know. I’m your wife. I’m not going anywhere,” she declared.

He bit his lip and glanced away. “I just don’t want to fuck anything up.”

She pressed a kiss to his knuckles. “Well, even if you do, we have the rest of our lives to get it right.”

Nero stroked the back of her hand. She was right; she always was. He chuckled as his nervousness eased, kicking off his fancy dress shoes before taking a seat beside her on the bed. The beauty of her spirit never failed to stun him. 

“How’d I get so lucky?” he murmured, reaching out to cup her cheek.

Kyrie’s eyes fluttered closed, her lashes a dark fan against her cheeks. The fluffy comforter beneath them rustled as Nero gently pulled her closer, inhaling her scent as he pressed a tender kiss to her perfect lips. Her quiet sigh set fire to his thoughts, endless fantasies playing on repeat in his mind.

Delicate hands grazed his shoulder blades, leisurely exploring the planes of his back. He moaned against her mouth as he wrapped her in his arms, reveling in the warmth of her body and the softness of her lips. They’d been looking forward to tonight for so long, he hardly believed the moment was here.

Their first night as a married couple.

An enticing rush pounded in his veins as their kiss deepened. Butterflies danced in his sternum and left him dizzy and breathless, lost to her hypnotic appeal. The soft brush of her tongue against his only intensified the spell she’d cast on him.

Yet she pulled away just as the crashing waves of desire crested, pulling a petulant grunt from his throat. He stared up at her as she stood, begging for more with his eyes alone.

“I’ll be right back. Why don’t you get comfortable?” she said.

He swallowed thickly as she walked toward the bathroom, his eyes locked on her spine once again. 

Get comfortable.

Right.

Nero busied himself with removing his complicated attire, breathing a sigh of relief as the tight fabric released his length, leaving nothing on as he climbed onto the massive bed. What should he do with the stuff Nico left on the bedspread? It was doubtful they’d use any of it, but what if Kyrie wanted to try?

He sure wouldn’t mind. 

But not tonight; tonight was about just the two of them, no add ons or extras needed. He set everything on the nightstand, within easy reach but out of the way. Just as he set down the last condom, the bathroom door opened and his bride stepped into view.

Kyrie’s hair cascaded across her shoulders to the small of her back, gentle auburn waves left behind from her complicated hairstyle from the ceremony. A sheer piece of white lingerie clung to her chest and thighs, satin and lace taking turns to tease at what lied beneath it. Shadows and light played on her skin and highlighted her feminine curves, her hips swaying as she strode closer to join him. He couldn’t help but gape.

She licked her lips. “Sweetie, you’re staring…”

“S- sorry. You look… you look amazing,” he replied.

He’d seen her naked countless times, in her underwear just as many. Her body wasn’t a new sight, yet to see her creamy skin barely covered, fabric hugging her hips and breasts, a delicate bow in the perfect spot for him to untie… it had his blood pulsing, gathering where he’d need it soon enough.

“Thanks,” she hummed, a faint tint of pink blooming in her cheeks as she came ever closer.

The second she was within reach, Nero pulled her onto his lap. His palms danced over her thighs, toying at her suggestive clothing and kneading her muscles. After so many hours in heels, he knew she’d appreciate it.

“Mmm, that feels good.”

His breath hitched at the huskiness of her voice as her body shifted, legs spreading so her center rested over his. The fabric against his shaft didn’t have time to register before she rotated her hips, rubbing against him with a gorgeous moan.

Oh, you tease...

But two could play at that game.

Nero’s hands crept higher, up her ribs and shoulders as he leaned forward. The bow between her breasts was easy to grasp with his teeth and came undone with a single tug to show more of her flesh. Jolts of electricity raced over his nerves as his lips descended, tongue flicking as he suckled. Small fingers tangled in his hair and pulled him closer, her voice urging him on with each whimper and sigh.

His cock hardened when she rolled her hips, flames crackling across his skin with every swipe of his tongue on her body. She smelled incredible, and despite the beauty of her attire, he craved sampling every inch. No matter how many times he tasted her, he’d always want more.

He took hold of her ass and shifted, putting her on her back with him above her. His palms skimmed over her stomach, her ribs, her thighs, every spot his to worship as he crouched between her legs. Panting breaths spilled from her lips as he settled her calves over his shoulders and pulled the fabric away to reveal her core, already glistening with need.

Nero smirked and leaned in, moaning as he took a single, teasing lick.

“N- Nero, please!” whimpered Kyrie.

He hummed. “Yes, dear…”

His tongue parted her folds and delved home, tasting her walls with every stroke. Dainty hands tangled in his short hair and egged him on, encouraging whimpers telling him he was on the right track. He angled his face so his nose met her clit, expertly working her into a frenzy as her reactions overwhelmed his senses. His awareness narrowed to the heaven of her delicious body, the scent of her skin and the pitch of her cries as he drove her ever closer to bliss.

I want to do this forever, he thought.

“Ah, come on, just a little-!”

Her words dissolved into a guttural string of gasping moans as he brought his thumb to tease at her back entrance. He couldn’t breathe through the pulses of fluid drenching her thighs and filling his mouth, her legs tightening and lifting her ass off the thick comforter. Without missing a beat, he followed her and kept his lips latched over her core, tongue still hard at work just the way she liked, dragging out her pleasure as long as possible.

Finally, her limbs went slack as she came back to Earth. Nero joined her on the bed, content to watch her facial expressions as her euphoria faded. Her flavor lingered on taste buds, a tantalizing reminder he did nothing to suppress.

“Nero…” she murmured after a moment. “Lie on your back.”

He licked his lips and obeyed. Whatever she had in mind, he wanted to try it.

She crawled up his body, trailing kisses up his abs and chest until she reached his mouth. A sheen of sweat coated her skin, shimmering in the candlelight and highlighting her curves. She rubbed her core against his painfully hard cock, coating him in her warm fluids as she finally brought her lips to his.

Nero wrapped his arms around her, stroking her back like he’d longed to for hours. Her skin was like satin, smooth and rich under his touch. Heaven. 

The air caught fire as she lowered herself on him, enveloping his cock at last with a sultry groan. His thighs reacted on instinct alone to meet her, his mind lost to the pleasure of her embrace. She felt incredible, more welcoming and wonderful just from being his wife. Her perfume tickling his nose, the little noises she made, the weight of her body over his… absolute perfection.

The cocoon of her pussy sent his eyes to the back of his head, pulses of heat howling in his core like a typhoon. He drew a ragged breath and ran his hands up to knead her chest, rolling her buds the way he knew she liked.

“Ah, Nero,” Kyrie gasped, her voice too sweet a melody to resist.

He lifted his hips a fraction of an inch, groaning as her body moved with his. “C’mere,” he murmured, pulling her closer for a passionate kiss.

As their tongues met he snapped against her, slamming his cock all the way home. Shockwaves of pleasure rocketed across his nerves, blood searing through his veins. In and out, taking his time as their mouths danced, each motion heightening his lust until he was flying. 

It was too much - he sat up, moving her legs to wrap around him and crossing his own beneath her luscious ass. Her eyes were glassy and her jaw hung open, a stain of pink tinting her cheeks under the halo of her shimmering auburn hair.

What could be as perfect as she is, he wondered.

Whimpers and mewls spilled from her throat as he stretched her walls, impaling her on his cock as he peppered her flesh with feverish kisses. Her neck, her collarbone, shoulders and chest, everything within reach. He was fire and she was ice; where they met, steam followed. 

Her hands scrabbled across his spine, searching for a grip but finding little purchase. Nero moaned as her nails dug in, just enough to taunt him as he snapped inside her yet again. Her body shuddered as his cock met resistance, reaching deeper than before. 

“Nero, please! Just like that, right there!” she cried.

“Yeah? You like that?” he replied against her neck.

Her enthusiastic cries were the only encouragement he needed, and Nero coaxed more and more of them from her lips. Sparks ricocheted across his body, his own peak approaching alongside hers, but he refused to give in until he satisfied her again. She deserved every second of pleasure he could provide her tonight.

And any night she wanted it.

Nero flexed as he bottomed out, his length twitching against that small spongy spot. He had to hold on a little longer, just long enough to feel her clench around him. How could he resist on their wedding night?

He dipped his hands between their joined bodies and traced circles around her clit, her wetness drenching his fingers. She arched, angling her hips into his hand while he rammed into her, her voice rising with each pulse of his hips.

“That’s it, that’s it- I’m - Nero!”

The silken embrace of her folds spasmed against his cock as Kyrie threw her head back and moaned, her arms locked around him as if he were a life preserver and she was drowning. The sounds she made redefined his idea of music and the erratic pulsing of her walls was too much, too good and too fucking sexy to resist.

“I’m gonna - Kyrie, I’m gonna-”

The slap of flesh meeting flesh mixed with the soft music still playing in the background as his thrusts reached a fever pitch, his body coming undone mere seconds after hers. He groaned and buried his face in the crux of her neck, crooning her name like a mantra as he pulsed his peak within her. Her fluttering walls and tender embrace were all that he cared about, all that he needed or would ever need.

When he returned to himself, her hands were rubbing his back and her sweet voice whispering praise in his ear. Her fruity conditioner mixed with her sweat and their now blended juices, an aroma he adored. There truly was nothing better than being with her.

He closed his eyes and relaxed in her arms. “Can’t believe you’re my wife.”

She hummed and helped him lie down, tracing his jaw and toying with his hair as she settled in at his side. “Believe it, Nero.”

There was no point restraining the wide grin tugging at his lips as he drifted off, thanking his lucky stars that she was his and he was hers.

Now and forever.

[rositxespinosa]

~Mental Health and Hygiene~

Being in quarantine these past few months have taken a toll on my mental health. Often times I find myself feeling tired, sluggish, bored, and unmotivated. This makes it difficult when it comes to taking a shower at the end of the day. I’ve skipped the shower more times than I care to admit, and I’m working on getting back into my normal routine, so that I can feel better. 

Multiple social media sites have posts on tips, self-care, etc for when you’re dealing with depression. I was inspired by these posts and have decided that I want to make my own. The purpose of this is to help guide you back into a normal hygiene routine. There’s no judgment here. Helpful comments and tips are welcome to be added, and please never feel embarrassed if you have questions about the things I write in this post. I’m here to help anyone who needs it!

*****

How long has it been since you’ve taken a bath or shower? A day? A few days? Maybe a week or more? That’s okay. Life can be challenging sometimes and cause us to neglect our basic needs. Here’s what you can do to kick start yourself back into keeping up with your hygiene. We have to start somewhere.

Pre-Shower:

1. Brush out your hair and throw it up into a bun or ponytail. Don’t worry if it’s super dirty. Brushing it out will distribute the natural oils in your hair, get rid of excess dead/stray hair, and most importantly make it easier to wash.

2. Apply a face mask. This step is optional. If you don’t have a mask, or simply don’t have the energy for it, skip it! I personally like to do this step because it makes my face feel extra clean, plus it’s fun! You can use any type of mask you want; hydrating, purifying, clearing, etc. This is mainly dependent on what your skin needs. I’ve been using a purifying mask from Neutrogena that has salicylic acid in it, which helps clear up my skin.

3. Hop in the shower! Once your mask has dried, remove your clothes, let down your hair, and hop on in.

In the shower:

1. Rinse your hair and body thoroughly. If you chose to apply a mask, gently massage it off before rinsing off your body and hair with warm water. Warm water is the best option because it will help properly clean you, especially if you have excess sweat, oil, dirt, etc on your skin and hair. Too hot of water is going to dry your skin out, and remove your hair and body’s natural oils, which we need because they protect the hair and skin. 

2. Double cleanse your hair. Not everyone may no what double cleansing your hair means, so let me explain. Something I prefer to do when my hair is super oily and dirty is double cleanse it. After it’s wet, I go in with either a detox/clarifying shampoo or Head and Shoulders in the classic scent. This helps remove that first lather of yuck on your scalp. Then I rinse that out and use a tiny amount of conditioner on my hair and rinse it out right away. This helps grab onto shampoo to make sure your getting it out of your hair completely. I learned that from my hairdresser! After the first cleanse, I go in with my normal shampoo. Any kind will do, just use what you like! Sometimes I’ll let the shampoo sit in my hair for a minute or two before I rinse it out so it has a chance to break down any buildup before I rinse it out. Then follow up with conditioner and put your hair up and let it sit. Now I know this seems like a lot, and I won’t lie, it’s going to take extra time. But it really will make a difference in how clean your hair feels when you’re done. I also think this would be a great way to really clean your hair and scalp if you haven’t had a shower in some time. If your hair isn’t as dirty, I suggest shampooing and conditioning like normal. This step may be different for everyone depending on hair type, texture, how oily and dirty it is, etc.

3. Wash your body. Now I have a separate soap for my chest and back, as well as one for my downstairs area, so you can skip whichever parts of this that aren’t necessary for you. If you’re feeling extra dirty, I suggest taking some soap; I’d suggest Dial body wash, men’s body wash (because the scent is strong and can eliminate odor), or even a bar of soap and first cleaning the parts of your body that hold more moisture and odor. Under your arms, underneath your breasts, inner thighs, back of the knees, and feet. Rinse that off and go in and wash your body normally with whatever nice smelling soap you like. Now if you have a vagina, take a clean washcloth, put some soap on there (try to stay away from heavily scented products! An inexpensive wash I’d recommend for down there is Dove sensitive skin body wash or bar soap, or even the plain original Dove.) The main thing I want to say is be gentle! Even if you haven’t showered in a while, don’t go scrubbing your vagina off! That’s going to cause irritation and no one wants that. Rinse the area with warm water first, wash the exterior of the vagina gently with mild soap (don’t go crazy with the soap either, use a good amount but sometimes less is more!) and rinse thoroughly. No need for harsh scrubbing.

4. Rinse with cool water. Your face is clean, your hair and body is clean, so guess what? You’re all done! Rinse out the conditioner in your hair and if you want or have the energy, rinse off with cool water. This not only feels good but can help cool your body down before getting out of the shower, and it makes your hair shiny!

Before I move on to what you can do after the shower, I want to make note of a few things. I purposely left out extra steps like exfoliating, shaving, hair masks, and other pampering tasks because when it comes to dealing with depression, extra things like that aren’t always doable. If you have the extra motivation to do these things, don’t let me stop you! I’m not saying don’t do these steps if you want too, what I am saying is that the steps I listed will be more than enough to make sure you’re clean and smelling good. Keep it simple for a while. When you are in a better place and have a more consistent routine, then add in those extra steps. For now focus on getting in, getting clean, and getting out.

Post-Shower:

Again I want to say if you need to simplify any of the steps, please do. It’s okay if you aren’t able to moisturize your whole body. I get it, it can be hard. 

1. Moisture face and body. If its the day time I suggest using a face moisturizer with spf in it, or applying it afterwards if all you have is a plain one. Then take the time to moisturize your body with whatever type of lotion or cream you prefer. I make sure to at the very least moisturize my feet, hands and elbows, chest, sides, and stomach. 

2. Cool down before applying deodorant and getting dressed. If not you’ll end up just sweating it off, especially now that it’s summer. Cool down, air your body out, then apply deodorant, let that sink in, and get dressed. I swear there’s nothing better than being clean and putting on a fresh pair of socks and underwear!

3. Spray some perfume or body spray. This is completely optional and you don’t have to do this, but this step makes me feel good personally. If you do choose to do this step, make sure not to overdue it. A few spritz is all you really need. 

4. Finish up. The last few things I’ll do is comb out my hair and let it air dry, clean out my ears with q-tips, and lastly hang up my towels.

****

That is it for my routine! I hope this will be helpful for anyone is is currently struggling. Like I mentioned in the beginning of this post, if you have any questions about hygiene or any questions on what I wrote, don’t be scared to come and ask me about it. There’s no judgement here. 

-Megan

[heywoodvirgin]

Borró Cassette ( Chapter 2)

Guys, writing is really not my thing, but I love Jackie so much not to try to ^^ 

Chapter 1 here ^^ 

Modern!Jackie Welles / Original Female Character 

Rated : Teens and up 

angst and fluff ahead ! 

*** 

- Medium plier.

It was the first thing he said in ten minutes or so.

Jack was under his cruiser’s wheels, hands focused on oiling some pieces of his machine’s brakes when she stepped into the garage.

For the first two weeks following their… argument, Mey avoided taking that route, instead opting for a detour that made her waste a solid thirty minutes every morning and evening. She thought avoiding places they used to share was a temporary solution, she was wrong. Every step she took in the opposite direction made her think about him longer, recalling all the hours he so generously spent teaching a slow learner like her how to ride a moto, how he’d always secured her helmet himself every time he took her for a ride, and those were many times, so many she couldn’t count anymore.

So when Mey finally decided to stop whatever childish game she was playing -not replying to his texts and calls, among others- and test her luck, she found herself standing gracelessly in the middle of his garage, blocking the last rays of sun he was using to work.

For long minutes, she stayed planted there, like a stupid scarecrow, marinating her anxiety, unable to say the word that mattered most. He noticed her, of course he did, and said nothing, just a flash of surprise in his eyes, and he was under his moto gain. It wasn’t like Jackie to act cold like that. Resentful wasn’t in the list of words to describe Jackie Welles, not even in the bottom line. He never ignored her. It felt so wrong to be in the receiving end of his spite or whatever this was. She missed the warmth of her friend; it was almost shocking now, as she realized it.  It was just one small “sorry”, but she still didn’t feel it in her, she still didn’t feel like she was the one that should say sorry. He fucked up, he should know, by now. But also, she knew that his apologies should go to the person his wrongs were directed to, not to her, if she would take her time and think.  But now, all she wanted, was a heart-to-heart talk, something she played in her mind over and over, every day during two weeks and five days and twelve hours, and here she was standing, mind blank, not even capable of uttering a simple hello.

When she finally found the guts to move and sit carefully on the sofa, and when he still didn’t react, she felt the panic, acid prickling at her skin. The sun had completely set down, last rays licking the far away mega buildings of the city, the garage lights flickered on. It was a quiet summer evening, one of few they had in the crazy city, but her neighborhood was one of the quietest, she had to admit. She liked it most of the time, but today wasn’t one of those days, it felt like the entire world went silent on her. That till he spoke.

- Medium plier.

She blinked a few times before she registered his request, moving to fetch the tool from its box, still memorizing perfectly the space around.

- Screwdriver, 4.

And it went like that for an hour or so, them moving about and working together. She was glad he offered her that physical occupation, even if it was mainly her handing him his tools and watching him sweat under his machine.  For a minute, her mind was just on the craft and she was relieved he still sounded pretty himself as soon as he opened his mouth, even if them occupying their hands didn’t prevent her mind to go racing about everything, and his too, she could tell in the way they couldn’t look each other in the eye, yet.

It was until he threw at her a wet rag to wipe her hands and she creased her nose because of the reeking petrol smell that they exchanged an amused look.

- Hey, never get used to the smell huh?

She shrugged, briefly smiling.

- So how have you been? He looked at the floor, discarding the wet rag near an old stool.

- Fine, she nodded to the floor, fighting a sudden rush of tears, trying to contain them in, in vain.

- Ven aqui.

He didn’t need to say more and she was in his arms. She didn’t remember him giving her hugs like that before, she shut her eyes, crushed against him, fisting his shirt, and he seemed to reciprocate, folding his bulk around her. He smelled like gas and sweat, but she only buried her head further in his chest. After some time like that she could feel the breath knocked off her chest and she started laughing

- Eres un idiota, you know that, she mumbled in a huff, a big idiot.

- I really shouldn’t teach you this one, but I know right, sorry hermana, I really mean it.

- Well, sorry too, she shrugged, as they let go of each other's embrace.

- Hey, no more tears, ok? Drink with me tonight?

- Sure, but just a lil', ok? She sniffed.

- Pft, aguafiestas, he grumbled, picked up two bottles of tequila and passed her one.

- So to what are we drinking tonight?

-  A la reunión! Amiga!

- A la reunión, then!

- Opening one of your expensive ones, just for me? she winced after one little gulp.

- Solo pa’ti, hermana, even if I know you’d rather go for one of your exotic stuff, tomatoes juice or something like that…

- Shut up, since when is tomatoes juice exotic, she internally face palmed.

- It is if I say so. Come on now, let’s sit, I’m beat, and starvin’.

- When aren’t you. She teased as he put his arm around her shoulder, leading her to the couch.

They sat comfortably in silence for some time.  When she finished her bottle, he was already at his third or fourth.

-You, Mimi, you won’t close the door on me anymore, huh, any door…

She could tell the alcohol started to work its way to his head. He was starting to tell her things that she could misunderstand, like only him could…

- Hey, hey, no more tequila tonight, please? She gently took the bottle from his hands. His usually warm palms were clammy and cold, shaking slightly.

- It’s a bad day, not a bad year, and even if it is, it certainly won’t be a bad life, remember, these are your own words you used to tell me.

- Si, recuerdo. He chuckled sadly.

- How can we regret something we don’t want, Huh.

- Do you, Jack? Mey’s throat was oppressed; she kept her voice low, as if afraid to hear her friend’s answers. She felt powerless, the weight of his grief falling on her chest. She knew that whatever she would say now, it wouldn’t be enough.

- What if I do Mimi, it’s done you know… it’s gone… I killed it.

- Shut, shut no, Jackie, no. If it’s someone’s fault, it should be mine, too. She softly scratched his scalp, a failed attempt to soothe him. His body was stiff with unshed tears, tension threatening to break at any moment, and she wished he would at last, cry. Let it seep out of his system. She wished he could do it with her, as tears pickled at the corners of her eyes, stinging, fat drops of salty water, falling free.

- How’s that your fault too, Mey? He turned with questioning eyes, and she found her courage failing her, as his eyes searched her face and her hand fell on his forehead. It was still hard to look him in the eyes.

- I should’ve been there for you, I should’ve been there when you were alone facing this decision I-

- You being there wouldn’t change my decision, hermana. It was already settled, and for some time now. Me and Lin, wasn’t working anyway.  

- Because you didn’t want it to work. She didn’t want to accuse him in any way, it was a statement that she and he both knew was true.

- Because I didn’t want it to work.

- Why? she asked in a little voice.

- Eh, the boxer and the super model, you believed it too?

- I- thought it was perfect, Jack, I really did.

At least for some time.

- You’re a romantic.

- Look who’s talking, she let out a teary laugh.

- But that’s not what I was talking about… I meant…

- I know what you meant, and there too, it wouldn’t have changed a thing.

The silence that followed was the heaviest Mey had ever felt between them.

- How… How did she take it?

- Surprisingly well. She’s a smart girl, Mimi. Bet that’s why she wanted us to be engaged, can’t blame her for not trying.

- She is a good woman, Jack.

- Lo sé, lo sé. Jackie said quiet, tears wetting the fabric of her dress. It was good, she thought. He still trusted her enough, enough to let her see his most vulnerable side, even after almost a month of absence, of total silence.

It was such a relief, if she let herself be honest. To find him again, broken, but still her friend who would call her hermana, offer to make dinner and end up dozing off, head in her lap.

It felt good to touch him again, too. Now in the quiet hours of the night, she could hear the cold neon lights purring, electricity running through the garage’s old wires, the tunes of whatever music he left on, that was almost muted, reached her from the furthest corner of his hideout. It smelt like motor oil and alcohol and old leather, a bit of him too, and before the knots in her stomach started to twist again, she talked herself to go and let him rest.

-Don’t you think it’s time to go and get some sleep in that fancy bed of yours? She prompted, trying to sound as light as she intended.

-Nah. Like it here more, reminds me of where I came from. ‘sides, it’s comfortable.

-Might be comfy for you, big head, but my legs are starting to get numb, so… She tried to shake his head off her lap, playfully pushing at his shoulders.

- Don’t even try, weak ass.

- That’s abuse of power!

- La niña learned to talk, too. Not bad.

- Fuck off.

- What about you going home now, huh, I’m just gonna crash here tonight. Couch’s enough comfort for my ass, for now.  He straightened up, rubbed his eyes, dusted his jeans, offered a hand for her to take.

- Or you can crash on mine. She shrugged, taking his offered hand and fighting a blush. Or not- she started when the response took a bit long to come.

- Let’s get the fuck outta here, then. And he gave her a real smile, this time.