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grandisknight · 1 month

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xavier: your lipstick stains

+ summary: Xavier helps you out with the age-old dilemma of figuring out what lipstick to wear. Although, his personal take is one you’ve never thought of until now.

+ tags: established relationship, gender neutral reader, fluff, lipstick, kissing, light evol use/mention, implied/suggestive ending, banter, teasing, one shot, in the bathroom, ‘starlight’ nickname

+ wc: 1.7k | ao3

+ a/n: inspired by that one moment in his lost signal card bc the lips line(tm) is canon ₍ ᐢ.ˬ.ᐢ₎

⊹˚₊‧───────────‧₊˚⊹

No, not this one.

Too warm, too cool—one would be too glossy while the other barely reflected any sheen coat. How many have you gone through at this point?

If only choosing a shade of lipstick was as easy as counting to three, you would’ve finished getting ready a while ago. A familiar pile of soaked cottons stained in shades ranging from a family of reds to browns sit off to the side of your counter. And currently, a freshly-dipped micellar round was swiping over your lips once more in defeat. Great, another one bites the dust.

For some reason, today of all days, not a single shade complimented your appearance. The offended tubes of balm were littered in slight disarray, varying in size and color. There were enough of them present that you could line them up into a series of dominos and watch as they fall in succession. Your eyes narrowed at the selection, one of your own curation, in disbelief at the sense of betrayal they quietly emitted.

A pair of gentle taps break your dazed stare.

“Are you okay? You’ve been in there for a while.”

The soft cadence was muffled between the thick wood separating the two of you, and your eyes lift to gaze at the door through the mirror. Past your own reflection, where your lips have seen better days. Right, he was waiting for you.

“Sorry, I promise I’ll be out soon.” You offer in apology, a slight pang of guilt pricking your skin at the sound of it. It’s just lipstick. Should be something so simple and quick to get over with, yet here you were about to—dramatically so—end it all because not a single shade felt right. “Just, ugh. Doing something.”

“Would you mind if I stepped in? I can help you,” he offers, though makes no move to push the door handle. Patient as ever, a calm that was an opposite to your current storm of frustration.

You contemplate for a moment. But surely, it wouldn’t hurt to get a second opinion, right? A set of fresh eyes in comparison to your wearied ones that have engraved these shades, and your opinions on them, deep into your frontal lobe. So you decided then with a nod what had to be done.

“The door’s open.”

A pleasant creaking noise welcomed in the light from beyond and the man who shouldered it. Xavier was dressed to the nines, cream blazer neatly ironed down to the very creases and onyx turtleneck sneaking up to his Adam’s apple. A dreamy sight, practically glowing and an angel without wings—truly, the date night dress-code for an excursion out of Linkon did wonders. His shoulders press against the doorframe, arms crossed in thought as he assessed the situation before him. A heartbeat passes in the moment his curious gaze trailed over your figure from head to toe, and away to the messy counter that housed your bathroom activities.

“You look beautiful,” he concludes with a matter-of-fact tone. His brow creases when you don’t even offer him a small smile, sensing the distress radiating from your stare. “Oh. Is something else the matter?”

“This,” you emphasize, pointing a finger to your lower lip. There was a slight stain of previous pigments, a testament to your efforts thus far, and a sigh pushed past it. “I know it might seem a bit silly, but I’ve been struggling with finding something that works.”

Xavier takes a step forward, crossing into the small space as you spun around in succession. Your chests nearly met each other in close proximity and a hand under your chin led your eyes to his. Reflectively, his thumb runs over the plush of the source to your current woes. He hums. “Even your favorite one?”

“Even my favorite one,” you reaffirm. Your usual shade was a lost cause, which was when you knew that today was definitely not your day.

His eyes never left your lips as he posed another question. “I have one you might like. Would you like to try it?”

“Really?” Your ears perked at the suggestion, curious as to what mysterious shades he would have up his sleeve. “What is it—Mmph?”

A soft press of his lips against yours consume your query, neatly melting into your touch like a puzzle piece finding its match. By instinct, your eyes fluttered shut and arms looped around his neck, quickly welcoming the sudden lip-locking. His hands smooth themselves over your sides, gently guiding your bodies to push against the counter and attached himself to you with a further dip of his head. The walls of the bathroom do well to echo every ardent press of his lips onto yours—the warmth of his mouth enhanced the light traces of cherry underneath his breath, a familiar taste that undoubtedly belonged to him.

It was only when you began to feel his hands sneakily toy underneath the fabric of your top and tongue push against yours that you pull back, breathless in effect.

“Xavier.”

The first call goes past his ears, his lips dragging past your chin and peppering a line across your jaw. As much as you enjoyed this—you were losing sight of the plot, and needed to pull on the reigns once more in reminder. Both literally and figuratively speaking.

A slight tug to his nape and an emphasis to his vowels, you call out to him again. “Xavier.”

He paused with the second announcement of his name, warm breath fanning over the shell of your ear. Xavier pulls back then, and you could barely make out the ringlets of his steeled blues with how dilated they looked at you instead.

“Sorry,” he breathes. A fleeting kiss to the tip of your nose adds to his apology. “I got carried away.”

“You’re fine,” you reassured, patting down his nape in turn.

Although, your brow raised as the question pushed down your throat from several seconds ago rises upwards. “What lipstick were you referring to? You know, before all of this.” You gesture between yourselves, only just now realizing how naturally his legs were slotted between your own, and lower back leaning into the counter’s edge.

“The color of my lips suit you best.” Xavier responds as if it was the most sensible solution in the world, an edge of sincerity to his simple yet meaningful words. “So, that’s my answer.”

Even so, you snorted, lightly pushing his forehead back with a finger. “Weren’t you the one who said that my lips suited you back then?” Memories of the promotional filming flicker in your mind, and the same happens to Xavier in the way his ears flush.

“Same difference.”

He avoids your teasing gaze, a hand lifted to shyly itch at the side of his neck. It didn’t last long, however, when his eyes twinkled in mirth as they returned to yours. “But, hm. Here's the thing...”

“Hm?” You echoed, though in confusion and a sense of foreboding. Searching his face leads you to your answer, where his now slightly chapped lips curled into a small smile. You swipe over his mouth in amusement. “Well, well. What do we have here?”

He answers amidst your touches, lightly nipping at your searching digit towards the end. “Looks like I’ll need some lipstick recommendations. Don’t you have any for me?”

“I might,” you play along, withdrawing your finger. Your hand cups his cheek in turn, admiring the way his face nuzzled further into your palm in wait. “But we’ll be late for dinner if I show you.”

“That’s fine.” Xavier answers almost too quickly, blinking somewhat innocently to spare some face in the height of your raised suspicions. “I think I’d want some dessert first before we go, anyways.”

"I don't think that's how this works—Ah!"

You let out a surprised yelp at his unsuspecting hands sliding under your thighs, lifting you to sit atop the counter. Your hands steady themselves on his shoulders, in slight disbelief at the newfound shift. A couple of lipstick tubes roll from the sudden intrusion, hitting the floor with light clicks and littering the tiles below.

Your huff matches his chuckle at the disposition you've found yourself in, and you lightheartedly cross your arms with a pout. “I thought you wanted the lipstick?” You quipped, reminding him of his own proposal just mere seconds ago. "Now you want to talk about desert this and that."

"Am I not allowed to want both?" He candidly asks in turn, gaze lowered and long lashes kissing the height of his cheeks.

"...You can," you quietly confirm, words suddenly feeling dry at the expense of the heat steadily pricking your skin. Was it always this hot in here? It certainly was now, and you were far from complaining.

The butterflies in your stomach became tenfold as he drew closer to your raised body—one hand mindlessly caressed your thigh as the other gestured off to the side in a soft luminance. A whirr of light wraps itself around one of the closest rouges, seemingly floating in effect.

Xavier calmly uncaps the balm then, waving it around in the air with specks of light floating all about. It stops just before you, barely touching the skin below your cupid’s bow and moves with a faint swipe. “Then, I’ll just have to borrow it from you this way.”

He closes the distance between your faces once more, a kiss so fleeting yet purposeful sealing his promise. Another swipe of lipstick and a planted peck followed in suit—though a third brush of his lips against yours couldn't hide the smile on his face, enjoying the play of events under his crafted direction. He pulls back with a content hum, putting the lipstick aside and smoothing his hands over your thighs once more.

You find yourself staring at his lips, now equally as stained as yours and enhancing the natural hues of his pink. "You got your lipstick, and I got mine," you mused, pursing your lips together in thought. "Are we good to go now?"

"Not quite." Xavier shakes his head, nose nudging the underside of your chin and tracing towards your collarbone. He speaks into the cavern that protects your heart, fingers drumming against you before squeezing lightly.

"I haven't had my dessert yet, starlight."

#love and deepspace #xavier #xavier lads #lads xavier #xavier love and deepspace #lnds xavier #xavier x reader #love and deepspace xavier #xavier x you #lads fic #lnds fic #love and deepspace scenarios #lads scenarios #lads imagine #love and deepspace imagines #grandisknight fics #gklnd

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nexysworld · 14 days

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Summary: Entertained by your desire for freedom, Doma occasionally lets his pet slip away for short bursts of escape. It's a game between you—cat and mouse. But this time, he's tired of playing.

Pairing: Yandere!Doma x Fem!Reader

Tags: NSFW, Smut, Yandere themes, dubcon, blood play, breath play, choking kink, Stockholm syndrome, unprotected sex, mild gore, no use of y/n, dark content

WC: 6.2k

Author's Note: This was an Etsy comm that I received permission to convert to x reader and post, which is why it may read a little different from my regular stuff/the sentence structure may be a little different. My first public writing for Demon Slayer, and I love this silly guy. <3 Also big thank you to @dollfacefantasy for beta reading for me.

Read on AO3 || More of my Work

─── ⋆⋅ () ⋅⋆ ───

Your pulse pounded in your ears, the forest whirring by in a blur as your bare feet beat against the ground with each frantic step. You ignored the cramp in your calves and the fire in your lungs, forcing yourself to keep going. This wasn't your first attempt at an escape. Each time, you managed to make it a little farther before being inevitably captured and returned to your prison — the temple.

Every time, you would kick, scream, and pound your fists against his back, desperate to break free. But what good were your useless human limbs against a god? There was even a time when you had resorted to begging and pleading. Your cries fell on deaf ears as that monster had no heart strings to pluck at, to persuade.

It was a cruel game he played, letting you taste a sliver of freedom. He’d plant that tiny seed of hope, watch it grow, and then mercilessly rip it out, leaving you empty and compliant—at least for a while.

This time, something was different.

You had never made it this far in all your attempts. He had never allowed you to reach civilization before. Yet there it was, the hazy orange lights of the village calling to you like a beacon of safety. The stone fence draped in wisteria was a reprieve to the anxiety that bubbled like acid under your skin. You weren't sure if the flower would be enough to keep something like him out, but you didn't have the capacity to dwell on it nor could you afford to psych yourself out.

The moment both feet were planted inside the barrier, you dropped to your knees, rewarding yourself with slow and deep breaths. You half expected the white haired demon to jump out at you, to hear that condescendingly sweet voice tickle your ears. Yet all you could hear was the sound of the early morning birds warbling and the whooshing noise of the trees as they swayed.

When was the last time you watched the sun break over the horizon or the blue sky overhead? It had been so long you very nearly couldn't remember, but you relished it as you watched the sky shift colors from your small spot on the ground.

The village was starting to bustle to life. It was your cue to stand and brush yourself off before you got too many strange looks. Hysteria wouldn't benefit you, you needed to stay calm, find help. Maybe there would be a slayer in the village, or at least a way to contact one.

"Excuse me," you said, trying to get the attention of a passerby. The man shot you a nasty glance, grumbling something as he walked off. Not deterred by the first snub, you wandered about through the streets, looking around to see if you could find anyone of importance who might be able to offer assistance.

The more you walked around the seemingly innocuous place, the more the unease began to creep its way back up your spine, settling as a lump in your throat. ' The sun is up. You're safe, you're just being paranoid ,' you assured yourself inwardly. Despite that, you still couldn't shake the feeling that something was very wrong — the hair on your arms was sticking up, and you were antsy .

Every person you passed treated you like you were invisible. Not a single person so much as acknowledged you, much less responded when you tried to make contact yourself. It was as if you were a ghost. Even the shopkeepers and artisans setting up paid no mind to you.

Briefly you toyed with the idea of abandoning the place altogether, moving on to the next village. ' But who knows how far that is. I'm tired, and definitely wouldn't last another night in the woods. ' You leaned against the fence that surrounded the center square that made up the crude marketplace while you contemplated what to do. 'Maybe they think I'm from a low station? ' You looked down at your yukata. It had definitely taken a beating during your trek through the woods, but the design and fabric alone indicated its value. Your primary function was to be that monster's plaything, his little dress up doll. You didn't dare to think where the fancy silks and kimonos came from, you just let him adorn you as he pleased. It was easier that way. Regardless, there was no way anyone would just assume you were a common beggar.

Whatever the case may be, it was clear this village was going to be of no help to you. At best, you could hope they would allow you to sleep in one of the common areas until the next day. A beleaguered sigh escaped you, as you stared at the ground.

"Miss, are you alright?" A young man was poking his head out the door of a home, catching your attention.

You pointed to yourself, not believing that he could actually be talking to you given your luck thus far.

"Yeah you," he chuckled. "You're not from around here, and no offense, but you look a little rough."

Any offense you may have taken rolled off you like water on rubber, you were just glad someone's words were directed at you. Someone not a part of that freakish cult. "Yeah, well...it's been a long night. Say, can I ask if there's anyone from the demo—"

"You should come inside," he chirped, taking you by the arm and ushering you into the home.

"Thank you, but —" Again you were cut off as he ignored your words to call upstairs. Two young girls ran down the rickety steps, all giggles.

He patted the taller girl on the head. "Yui, can you please grab the spare yukata and lay it out for her? Ami, will you grab her something to eat? She’s very tired from her travels."

You were about to thank them for their kindness, but that sense of impending doom was signaling off from the back of your mind again. "Thank you, but really I just need to know there's a way to get into contact with the demon sl—"

"Oh, don't worry about it Miss. We've been waiting for you. Master Doma told us to make sure you were taken care of as soon as you arrived."

There it was.

Your instincts had been screaming at you the entire time you were in the village. You had ignored them clinging to false hope, unable to overcome your exhaustion. Now here you were, back where you started.

Like every time before.

"No," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. You took a step back from the trio fight or flight mode taking over.

"Miss, hey calm down now," the man said, putting his hands up defensively. "Master Doma just wants us to take care of you, there's nothing to be afraid of. He takes care of all of us, and he wants you to come home."

The pure sincerity in his voice nearly made your gag, had you not been so frightened you would have been empathetic to them. Doma was nothing if not charming, and you understood the ease that came with believing his words, surrendering to them.

You took another step back. The door wasn't far behind you, and that's all you needed. 'Just make it to the door and run. Just run.'

Another step. Then another. The back of your heel hit the threshold, nearly in the clear. Then pain shot through your head, scrambling your brains and short-circuiting your senses. You had never passed out before, and it wasn't pleasant. Your mouth tasted like metal, spots of black decorated the view as you crumpled.

─── ⋆⋅ () ⋅⋆ ───

"Sweetheart, it's time to wake up now." The voice was sugary syrup dripping into your ears, tugging your from tendrils of unconsciousness. You groaned, head still throbbing from where you'd been struck. Bleary eyes met amber as they blinked open. "Look at you my darling pet, your face is all bruised," he tutted as he inspected you.

It took a moment for you to gather your surroundings, brain still fuzzy from being knocked out. You were back at the temple, the familiar colors morphing into the structure that had become your prison. Doma had taken his seat, crossing one leg over the other. "You," he pointed to the person standing next to you. "Come here."

You recognized the young man from the village. The same one who helped lure your back to this place. He stepped forward, bowing respectfully before the blonde demon.

An uncharacteristic pout was plastered to Doma's face as he eyed the man head to toe. "I thought I told you to take good care of her?"

"You did sir."

"Then explain to me why my dear pet's face has been marred? It's so unsightly ." His angelic features twisted into disgust, his voice tinged with bitterness. You weren't sure you'd ever seen such emotion from him before, didn't think he was capable of anything except that eerie smile and sing-song tone. It was unsettling, no it was more than unsettling, it was terrifying.

The man didn't get the chance to answer, the moment his mouth opened there was blood. It happened so quickly, you couldn't even make out what happened. One moment he was there, the next moment viscera all over the marbled flooring and painted wood.

"You were not worth eating," Doma mused, resting his head in his hand. He looked bored with the mess he made.

You knew what Doma was. You had seen the much cleaner aftermath of his meals before. This unbridled gore was new to you though. Your stomach twisted, face scrunching as the tears spilled over. A whimper escaped your mouth, you clamped your hands over it to silence yourself from wailing.

His attention returned to you. "Now doll, what are you crying for? Humans can be so silly. He disobeyed me by marking what didn't belong to him, nor was he worth the meager nutrients attached to his bones. There's no use in weeping for him, my sweet. Wait , perhaps those are tears of disappointment? Don't tell me you were actually expecting a different outcome when you ran off this time." He laughed, hand over his stomach as if he'd just said the world's most amusing thing.

It took him a few moments for the laughing fit to die down so he could speak again. "Or maybe you're scared because you think I might kill you too, hmm?" He tilted his head when he spoke, sitting upright in his seat now. "Have I ever harmed you before?"

Harmed. Had he ever harmed you? Perhaps not overtly or in the traditional sense. You shook your head, hand still pressed to your mouth.

He motioned for you to come to him, patting his lap.

You didn't want to, but the same fear that always guided your bouts of complacency forced your feet forward. You were careful to step around the puddle of blood and up the steps that led to his throne. You slid into his lap, as you always did, like a well-trained puppy.

"Good girl," he praised, ruffling the locks at the top of your head. In spite of yourself, the praise made your chest feel warm, though it did little to ease your anxiety. You hated it. The weird and complex feelings that came with being held captive. He smelled like dragon's blood and citrus, like the red fabric was doused in the stuff. At least it helped to mask the metallic scent from the massacre behind your.

Doma tilted your chin to meet his gaze. "Tell me, why are you so afraid this time? Be honest with me."

"It's different this time." "How so?" "You didn't come get me yourself."

"I did not, why do you think that is?"

"You're mad at me."

"Not quite," he cooed comfortingly as he stroked your cheek with the back of his hand. "I'm not mad, I am simply disappointed . I've grown bored with this cat and mouse game that you like to play. I also fear that my dearest pet lacks the proper appreciation for all I've given her." His smile didn't waver despite his words, at least that was something you were used to. "You're a terrible little liar too. You've been telling yourself lies since you ran away. That everything would be okay. That you could actually survive out there without someone looking after you."

His hand moved from your cheek to your throat, holding you in place. It wasn't enough to cut off the air, but it did have your head floating from the lack of blood. His voice lowered to a threatening timber. "The truth is, my dear, you need me. You need me to feed you, clothe you, shelter you, keep you safe and happy. In return, I need you to behave. It's very simple, even someone as woefully pathetic as you can understand, yes?"

He let go, you sucked in a deep breath of air. The world spun around you as the blood rushed back to your brain.

"I asked you a question, do you understand?"

You nodded. "Yes. Yes I understand."

"Good." Any hint of that venomous undertone gone. He hauled you over his shoulder, like a sack of potatoes before making his way deeper into the temple. "I take responsibility for this too. An undisciplined pet is not a bad pet, just untempered . I've indulged your foolish attempts at independence far too long. It's what I get for being so kind." He kicked the door to your living quarters open, dropping you onto the plush futon at the center of the room.

You back hit the mattress with a dulled thud. He towered over you, eyes running down your form as if they were drinking your in, undressing your. You were familiar with the gaze from plenty of human men, even some of the servants that worked in the temple. Never had you seen a look of pure carnal desire from Doma. You didn't even know if demons desired such a thing.

This, like everything that happened in the past day, was entirely uncharted territory for you. You were scared, in a way you didn't know you could be. You regretted running this time, regretted not just cow tailing and letting things be. The devil you did know would've been a comfort compared to this.

─── ⋆⋅ () ⋅⋆ ───

Doma's eyes lingered on you, taking in every detail. The way you trembled against the padded mattress, your hair splayed out over the bedding, soft skin peaking through the now damaged silk fabric. It was perfection. You were perfection. He couldn't remember the last time a human had caught his interest — there was that one girl...what was her name? He ignored the thought, it didn't matter anymore. She wasn't interesting enough to keep around once she panicked, more trouble than she was worth. You though? A different entity entirely.

Unlike the others, you hadn't begged for mercy or screamed in terror, despite how clearly fearful you were. There was something different about you, something that piqued his curiosity beyond the usual fleeting fascination. It made something stir in his chest, an uncomfortable sensation he was entirely unfamiliar with. Something that kept drawing him to you. It was a mild annoyance at first, until your image began prickling the back of his mind at every waking moment. He presumed this was what affection was, in human terms anyway. He couldn't be sure though, he never felt much of anything at all. If he could feel, then he was sure he would be fond of you.

Kneeling, he traced his finger from your collar down to the belt that held your yukata together. "This was fine silk, very rare. Such a shame it's destroyed now, it suited you so well. Can't be helped I guess," he shrugged. "Take it off."

"Take it off?" You repeated the question back to him as if you didn't comprehend the meaning of the words. He'd had servants tend to your whenever he felt like playing dress up, but never had he disrobed you himself before.

"Oh dear, perhaps that head injury has rendered you dumb? No doll of mine should dress in tattered rags. It's unbecoming, now take it off."

You trembled at his words, not wanting to comply. You weren't ashamed of yourself, nor necessarily prudish in nature. However, the mere thought of stripping away your clothing—of exposing yourself in such a vulnerable state—felt like an unbearable invasion of your last shreds of dignity. You hugged your arms around your body, as if trying to shield yourself from the weight of his gaze, your heartbeat thundering in your chest. "N-No." The word felt weird on your tongue. You were never defiant, not directly so. Besides your escape attempts, you had always been obedient.

"How odd," he commented, kneeling down to close some distance between them. "When has my little pet ever refused me?" He didn't expect that response. "Uh uh, this simply won't do," he tutted. "Did I not just explain to you that I cannot allow for your disobedience any longer? And yet here you are, denying me directly to my face. Bad girl. Very bad girl." Doma cupped your face as he always did, a perfect facade of concern.

Your denial made that uncomfortable sensation itch inside his chest again. This was different from before... annoyance ? That wasn't quite right. The fact that even in this moment you were making him feel anything was bothersome. "I don't like repeating myself. Take it off, or I'll remove it for you." He dug his pointed thumbnail into your cheek, dragging it along the flesh, a trail of red in its wake.

The blood looked so pretty juxtaposed against your skin. His cock kicked in his bottoms at the sight. He hadn't much of a libido even when he was human — over the years he assumed any carnal desire had disappeared along with the last shred of his humanity, if any even existed within him. Now he could see that wasn't the case, the appearance of you clearly enough to rouse that desire from deep within him.

Your eyes went wide, your cheek stinging. The warmth dripping down your face was enough for you to realize you were bleeding. You were in shock, unable to move your facial muscles, your vocal cords too tight to scream. Your hands moved on autopilot, slinking up to tug at the belt, undoing the knot. You hooked a finger where the fabric folded over itself, hesitating for a second. His thumb pressed into your cheek again, a warning. You winced, pulling the silken robe open, letting it slide down your shoulders as it went, leaving only your undergarments in view.

Doma marveled at you, the same hand that had assaulted your cheek dragged itself down your jaw and neck, smearing the hot liquid with it. "Such a beautiful thing you are. A canvas just begging to be painted." His pants were uncomfortably tight now, a reminder of the appendage between his legs. A primal hunger twisted in his stomach. This was more than just teaching his pet obedience now. He wanted to mark you, take you in every conceivable way he could. Truly make you his. It was a tantalizing thought.

He tugged at the cloth wrapped around your chest, not giving you the chance to deny him now. It fell off of you with ease, exposing your breasts to the cool night air. Experimentally he circled his thumb around the bud of your nipple, red liquid drying quickly against it. The noise you made was a mix between a whimper and a strangled whine — it sent white-hot need directly to his groin. Doma watched as your skin became taut, pebbling under the touch. He licked his lips, craving more, his mind running through all the different things he wanted to do to you.

You fought the urge to squirm, his touch sending electricity skipping through your veins. Your brain was lagging as it processed the mix of fear and arousal. He looked feral, the salacious smile splitting his face open, his eyes glowing a mix of colors. If there was ever a time he truly looked inhuman, it was now. The monster shook his head as if he were snapping himself out of a haze. "Off with the rest of it. I want to see you, all of you."

You weren't bold enough to deny him twice, you took his blood covered hand and allowed him to help you stand. Their difference in size was far more apparent standing before him. You realized now that most of your time spent with the demon was with him in his temple seat. You were small before him, in more ways than one.

You turned from him, it didn't make a difference. He'd already seen most of your nude form, nor would it prevent him from doing as he pleased in the long run. In the interim though, it gave you some imagined semblance of power over the situation you were in. One last bid at retaining your pride.

"Harlow...you're beginning to bore me now."

It was a warning, you were taking too long. You didn't dare push to find out what would happen if he had to repeat the command this time. You dropped the remains of the yukata, letting it slip down your arms and crumple to the bedding along with the fabric that had covered your chest. All that was left were your underwear. You made quick work of them too, shimmying out of them and kicking them to the side.

You resisted the urge to shield yourself with your hands, his hand was on your shoulder, spinning you around as if inspecting a piece of merchandise.

Doma stopped you when you faced him again. "Sweet little pet," he cooed. His index nail slicing from your breasts to your navel. He knelt enough to run his tongue along the wound, marveling as your abdominal muscles twitched under it. Your blood pure sugar on his tongue. He pressed a kiss just above your pelvic bone, leaving bloody lips imprinted to the skin. His own flesh burned with the need to feel you, be closer to you. "I don't kneel for many, doll," he said, squeezing your hip bone lightly. "You should be honored for the sight. Are you?"

"Yes."

His thumbs dug into you, the feeling making you cry out in pain. If not for his grip on you, and your instinct to grab his shoulder for support, you would have fallen over.

"You can do better than that. Show your master how much you're honored for this gift. How much you appreciate all I've given you, all I plan to give you." His voice softened almost playfully so, "Come on now, show me how good of a girl you can be." Doma pressed a kiss to your thigh, licking up some more of the metallic blood that dripped.

You were more than a little confused, the feeling of his tongue against your flesh made your mind go static. You had assumed that once you were naked and at his mercy, he would simply take what he wanted. It took you a few seconds to muster the brainpower to try and figure out exactly what he was wanting from you. Hesitantly you brought your hands to his face, cupping his cheeks.

It was strange. For all the monster that he was, his skin felt so very human against your touch. His own eyes lust-hazed and locked to yours. There was a sick thrill that came with being desired by someone so dangerous. Even the blood drying against your skin, now cold and sticky was a sensation that only heightened how you were feeling — your arousal pulsed with need.

When he didn’t move to stop you or draw more blood, you took it as a sign that you were doing something right. He was a god—or at least he presented himself as one—so you would offer him a performance of devotion in return. You would tend to him the way temple maidens polished statues and decorated altars.

You pressed your lips against his, your eyes fluttering shut. Doma's lips were soft and warm; if not for the sharp metallic taste of your own blood mingling with the kiss, you could almost forget who it was. It felt good. It shouldn't have felt good, but it did . The kind of good that was strangely comforting, the kind you knew you would yearn for again in your isolation.

He was intrigued by your response, having intended to coax a vocal proclamation from you, instead you'd kissed him. You tasted like mint and honey, flavors that only lingered in his long-since-past human memory. It was delicious, addicting . This was a far better outcome than he initially anticipated.

When you trailed little kisses down his jaw and neck, he had to focus his breathing to remain as stoic as possible. Every touch was the lick of raw flame searing his skin, making his cock kick in excitement. Your hands moved lower, hooking themselves beneath the hem of his red top before pausing.

"May I?" You asked, not moving to further disrobe him without permission.

Doma's eyes blazed with hunger, his lips curling into a feral grin. "Yes, my pet. You may."

You pulled up on the shirt, carefully sliding it over his head and arms before discarding it to the side of them. You smoothed your hands down his pectoral muscles and the hardened abs feeling every bump and divet as you moved. He was carved from marble, body as perfect as one would expect of a god. The sight alone made you want to taste him, not out of fear or obligation but from sheer lust on your end — a scary thought.

He watched you through lidded eyes as your mouth set to work again, lips not lingering in any one place as you blessed each plane of muscle with a kiss. You stopped only when you reached the belt that held his gray pants to his form.

Again you looked at him, silently asking this time.

He patted your head, "Good girl. Go ahead," he encouraged. You looked the prettiest like that, when your eyes were wide, soft, anxious . It made his chest bubble with that weird fuzziness again. The more that feeling manifested, the more he wanted to devour you.

It took a moment for Harlow to fumble with the buckle, but once it was conquered there was nothing but the striped fabric separating you and what was outlined under it. You folded down the waistband, slowly revealing his erection. It was intimidating up close, far larger than you had seen before. The length was pale like the rest of him, the tip an angry shade of pink decorated by pearls of precum that glistened.

You could have attempted to take him in your mouth, but such a simple and baser sexual act wasn't right for this. You couldn't take right now, only give.

Your hands came forward, wrapping around the base for support. You could feel his pulse under your palm through the vein that coiled around the underside. It pulsed in your grasp, and you could hear his breath hitch in the silence of the room. As you had done to the rest of his body, you pressed a kiss to the tip, smearing the white beads against your rosy lips. "Thank you, lord Doma. For allowing me to have the honor of witnessing all of you." You weren't entirely sure you didn't mean the words that tumbled out — not with his scent in your nose, and the primal part of your brain activated.

"Sweetheart," he breathed out, becoming impatient with need, another urge he was only newly acquainted with. Apathy had brewed near immeasurable patience within him in his long life. Perhaps just another thing that made you so special — your ability to draw out all he had to offer. "Look at me."

You obeyed, pausing your actions to meet his gaze.

Doma caressed your uninjured cheek and swatted your hands away from his groin. He took hold of himself, smearing the mushroomy head of his cock over your lips and to the side. The way you winced when it pressed to the cut on your cheek made his balls tighten. Blood and fluid mixing to smear pink along your soft skin like rouge. "So pathetically fragile and pretty, a little mouse doomed to forever be under the cat's paw. I have to confess — I consider you my most prized possession."

It sounded real, his voice neutral not deep with lust nor that flamboyant false tone he used to lure most in. The way he was looking at you coupled with his words wrapped you in a blanket of contentment. Being told you were wanted tugged at the abandoned part of you more than expected. "Thank you," you whispered, your own words equal in their sincerity.

Doma was pleased with this. "Of course, so much easier when you just appreciate what you have, no?" He moved to press your back to the mattress again, using a knee to spread your legs for him. Finally, he received the view that made his mouth water, his ears ring. Your folds pink and glistening with need, thighs sticky with blood and arousal. A sight worthy of a painting.

He pressed two fingers to your swiping upwards to gather the slick. You tensed, toes curling, heartbeat picking up. He missed none of it. He allowed his tongue to swirl around his digits, taking in your flavor. He'd consumed so many humans, but this was the first time he truly relished the taste, savory, decadent, and all you .

"Have your eyes ever wandered while under my care? Were you burdened with lust unable to be quenched? Be honest, I'll be mad if you're not," he warned, leaving one hand on your hip.

"Yes," there was no hesitation in your answer, only a tepid honesty.

"Was I ever the object of that desire?" "No," you whispered it so quietly that he almost missed it even with his inhuman senses.

Sourness encompassed him, a deep cold bitterness mixed with envy. He wasn't surprised by the answer, but it dug into him like claws regardless. His hand tightened, nails digging into you and squeezing so hard he nearly felt your bone give way to his strength. The sound of your agony, the wail of your pain, and the smell of fresh salty tears brought Doma out of his daze. He let go, surprised by his own shift in mood.

With a sigh, he leaned over encompassing you with his form. "Shhh, shhh," he tried to soothe. He mimicked your earlier actions, pressing kisses along your skin before capturing your lips with his. "I'm not mad." He assured, despite the harshness of his treatment. It wasn't an apology, he wasn't much capable of that — it was as close as you'd get from him though, an admittance that he may have gone too far.

You whimpered softly, your heart still racing from his unexpected display of anger. You pressed your body against his, welcoming and desperate for comfort. You let yourself give in to his touch, anything to dull the searing throb in your leg. Anything to not have him upset, to not see that angry look in his eyes again.

His movements were gentle now, he returned his hand between your legs. Rhythmically he circled his fingers over your clit, keeping the movements going as he spoke. "After tonight, there will be no one else that exists to you, but me. Understand?"

Your only reply was the string of pleasurable whimpers that spilled from you, eyes squeezing shut. You poured your focus into the pleasure until the pain was a dull background sensation.

"That's it, that's it," he cooed.

Your fingers squeezed into the bedding knuckles turning white from the grip. That crescendo of pressure was unforgiving as his fingers never lost their pace, building you up to a peak. Fireworks twinkled behind your closed eyes, white-hot pleasure erupting from your cunt.

He didn't allow you to recover, the blood soaked hand pressed to your throat, cinching the blood that was rushing to your head. Dark spots danced in the corners of your vision, panic made your grab at his arm. Like stone, he was unmovable.

"Uh uh, I thought we'd moved past that now. Submit, pet, you'll only be rewarded for your obedience." He kept you on the precipice of consciousness, never letting your sink underneath the waves, but not allowing you to grab a lifeline either. There was a sense of deprivation, leaving only the ability to feel what you were given — no other thoughts, no way to cry out. Just Doma.

Eager to finally satisfy himself, he slotted his length against your slit and rocked his hips. The head of him bumped into your now overly sensitive bud as he gathered your juices over himself. The contact wasn't the tightness he would soon have, but it satisfied some of the tension that he needed released.

You needed to tell him it was too much, you were overstimulated and felt like you were going to fall off a cliff. Your whole body twitched and writhed beneath his grip. Too much, all of it too much. He released your neck as he slid into your — the air expanding your lungs and the delightful burning stretch as he filled your in one even thrust sent your brain into reset.

A fresh wave of tears stuck to your cheeks, washing away some of the blood and fluid. You looked a complete mess, worn and wrecked. "S'too much," you finally said.

He groaned, the feeling of your velvety walls massaging the whole of him, the vice-like squeeze of you was tantalizing. It was a pleasure that matched nothing he remembered. "No, no, it's far from too much, pet. I would never give you more than you can take," he responded, voice breathy. He leaned over your and nosed at your neck. He adjusted your hips upwards, an easier angle for him to rock himself into you.

"You can handle it. You were made for this... made for me ," he cooed, he gripped your lithe hand in his own.

You squeezed the supportive hand offered to you, legs kicking out as your body bounced with each rut of himself into you. You let yourself trust his assurance, having no other choice and no other way to settle the spiraling world around you.

His thickness rubbed against the most sensitive inner parts, tip knocking against your womb. You felt so full and warm. He leaned back just enough that he could press the palm of his free hand to your belly, feeling himself inside of you. "Feel that? How deep I am, like we're becoming one." He licked his lip, rutting faster.

The feeling of fullness was contenting, allowing the second wave of your orgasm to wash over with less eruption this time. Your back arched and the hand on your belly returned to your hip to hold your steady. The rhythmic pistoning lost its even pace the moment you clenched around him. Doma closed his own eyes, feeling his balls tighten as they bounced off of you with his movements. His cock twitched, and he held you still, burying himself as deep as he could go while he came. Ropes of warm seed painted your insides, as he rolled himself against your in shallow movements — just enough to ride out the ensuing pleasure and aftershocks that accompanied.

Your limbs felt weightless, your mind floating. It was a sense of zen, like the world around you had dissipated leaving nothing but pure blissful sleepiness. You registered his voice knocking at the back of your consciousness, but it was muffled.

"So exhausted, and we only played together once," he patronized as he ran his hand over your head, petting you like a puppy.

When had he pulled out of you, or readjusted them so he was laying at your side? You didn't know. The thought of displeasing him suddenly tugged at you, and you whined in your leery state, not able to formulate much. "Sorry..."

He smiled at that immediate submission, "It's ok, we'll just have to work on it. I know you can do better next time, right?"

"Mhmmm," you mumbled instinctively curled into him. When you were of a more sober mindset, you hoped your carefully calculated revulsion would reappear. For now, you just wanted to fall back into your typical pattern of compliance.

"Sweetheart?"

You didn't want to reply, too tired. His hand tilted your chin to him one more time. "Mmm?"

"Who do you belong to?"

You knew saying the words would manifest them somewhere inside you, but again you found no protest within yourself, the call of unconsciousness too much. "You."

"Who do you need to take care of you?" "You." "Who else exists to you?" "No one."

"Good girl."

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jetii · 2 months

Text

The Bet

Pairing: Kix x fem!Reader / Kix x Nurse!Reader

Words: 8,981

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! coworkers to friends to lovers, some blood/wound care but it's very minor, fluff, smut, unprotected sex, fingering, dirty talk, oral (f receiving), a hint of a praise kink

Summary: You and Kix have been dancing around each other for months. When losing a bet finds you alone in your apartment together for the first time, sparks fly.

A/N: I honestly was not a Kix girlie before writing this, so hopefully he's not too ooc!

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“You don’t have to do this, you know.”

Kix watches you move about your small kitchen from his seat at the counter. The beer he nurses in his hand is still cool, the condensation softening the label enough for his thumb to peel, a nervous habit you notice but are too polite to mention.

You pause your stirring momentarily to throw him an exasperated look over your shoulder.

“I know.”

“I’m just saying you don’t need to do all this for me,” he says, gesturing towards the stove where a large pot bubbles, a delicious scent wafting through the air. “Pizza would’ve been fine.”

“And miss the opportunity to show off my excellent cooking?” you ask with a scoff, though it lacks any real conviction.

You turn to face him. He looks so out of place in your tiny apartment, perched on the stool that is dwarfed by his size. His shoulders hunch as if he's trying to make himself seem smaller, a feat in itself for someone so large.

You try to give him a smile that's more encouraging than teasing. “Not a chance.”

He shakes his head, returning the grin with one of his own as he looks down at his hands. The smile falls away when he sees the state of the label he had been absently peeling. He grimaces and balls up the ruined paper before throwing it at the trash can, a small ping echoing through the apartment as it lands in the center of the bin.

The corner of your mouth twitches into a smirk, and you roll your eyes playfully. Kix chuckles softly, and some of the tension dissipates from the room.

It's nice to hear him laugh after the week you've both had. You'd been near dead on your feet by the time the Resolute docked on Coruscant, but you'd promised Kix a proper home-cooked meal, and you weren't about to renege on your deal. A bet was a bet, after all.

Bets between the two of you were far from an unusual occurrence. Normally, it was simple things: what they were serving in the mess for breakfast, how many hangover remedies you'd have to administer after shore leave, or even just something as silly as who could finish their work faster. It had become so common to the point that the 501st was more than used to seeing you and Kix going back and forth, betting on just about everything.

This time was no different. You'd been arguing over a patient's chart one morning, and it had escalated until the two of you had settled on a bet. Whoever could get the most patients through their physical would win.

The only thing was that, by the time the two of you finally had the opportunity to settle the score, Kix had gotten the entire company in on it, and had somehow managed to get Rex to take his side. You had been absolutely furious at the time, but you got over it quickly when he made his request.

He could have chosen anything. He could have made you stay late or fill out paperwork for a week. He could have had you do something embarrassing.

Instead, he asked you to cook him dinner.

You don't have a lot of time outside of work, so when you do, you cook. It's your favorite hobby and one you're actually pretty good at. You take great pride in it. Cooking for Kix though? That's different.

It's not that you don't want to do it. On the contrary, you're thrilled by the opportunity. It's just that you want it to be perfect.

The apartment is quiet save for the sound of your work. You have the radio playing, the volume turned low so the music is more background noise than anything. You don't mind. You've always liked the sound of rain, and it gives you the opportunity to listen for Kix.

You'd noticed over the course of your friendship that Kix is usually quiet when he's comfortable. It had taken a while, but you learned his different silences. It was the same way he analyzed you: by the cadence of your footsteps and the tone of your voice. You'd learned to read him through those subtle indicators, and he had done the same.

Right now, he's content. There's no tension in his shoulders, and his breathing is even. You know he's watching you, his eyes tracking your movements. He looks a lot more relaxed here than he does at work, which isn't surprising. You've seen each other nearly every day since the start of the war, but you've never been able to spend time together like this. You're friends, sure, but you're also attracted to him, and you'd like to think he feels the same.

You've been dancing around each other for months, but neither one is brave enough to say something about it.

You make small talk, talking about nothing and everything while you cook. It's pleasant and comfortable and nice. You can feel his eyes on you as you work. The kitchen is small enough that he can watch you easily without having to leave his seat. You know he's enjoying the show.

“So, what are we having?” he asks.

You can hear the curiosity in his voice and grin.

When he'd made the request, he'd said he was up for anything, but you wanted it to be special. You have a plan, one that you hope he'll like.

You turn around, propping your elbows on the counter and leaning forward. He mirrors your position, and you're so close your noses almost touch.

His eyes widen in surprise, but he doesn't pull back. You tilt your head. “It’s a surprise.”

And a good one, you hoped. You weren’t sure the last time you put this much effort into a single meal, but if you were going to impress him, you wanted to do it right.

You'd started the process early this morning and had been checking and rechecking your progress throughout the day. You're making a traditional Alderaanian dish, one of your favorites, and one you're pretty confident you can pull off. You're not a chef by any stretch of the imagination, but you know your way around a kitchen and have been told by those who love you that your cooking is exceptional.

You can only hope he'll agree.

Of course, this was a man who preferred to subsist entirely on ration bars and caf, who forgot to eat unless you forced him out of the medbay, but you still found yourself hoping to wow him with your family’s recipes.

When Kix showed up at your door, you could tell that he was nervous. You were too, but you tried not to let it show. You were doing this because you liked him, not to get a reaction out of him, but the anticipation of his response was enough to make your heart flutter in your chest.

He looked more than a little disarmed at the sight of you in your civilian clothes, and the feeling was mutual. You didn't think you'd ever seen him out of armor. When you invited him inside, he pulled out a bouquet of daylilies from behind his back, sheepishly explaining that Jesse insisted he shouldn’t show up empty-handed.

The bouquet he’d given you was beautiful. You didn’t have a vase to put them in, so they were soaking in water in the largest coffee mug you could find with ‘Galaxy’s Best Nurse’ in gaudy red letters on the side. You hoped they wouldn’t wilt before you could find something better to put them in. You honestly couldn’t remember the last time anyone had bought you flowers.

Kix was sweet, sweeter than you ever anticipated from your first meeting. On your first day aboard the Resolute, when Captain Rex first introduced you as the resident nurse aboard the ship, Kix took one long look at you and promptly rolled his eyes.

“She's not gonna last a week.”

Rex had looked ready to throttle him, but you merely gave him a wry grin and told him you were more than capable of doing your job.

He was quick to apologize, though you could tell he was more than a little skeptical, and the two of you had spent the better part of that first month trying to get on the other's good side. The first time he laughed at one of your jokes, it was like the floodgates opened. After that, it was easy, and the two of you quickly fell into an easy friendship.

You came to realize being blunt was just his way, though Kix was never as short with you as he was with his brothers. Jesse said it was because he had a soft spot for you, but you were more inclined to believe he just didn’t want to create a hostile work environment.

That was months ago, and a lot has changed since.

You enjoyed Kix. His dry humor always caught you off guard, even if you were getting used to it. He seemed to enjoy making you laugh. And at the end of a long day, he was always the first to ask if you needed help cleaning up the medbay, always the first to offer to walk you back to your quarters.

You shared plenty of late nights together, sometimes going over patient files or stocking supplies. Other times you simply sat together in the quiet, enjoying each other’s company.

You grew close. It was only natural.

Still, it didn't feel natural to invite him over for a home-cooked meal. You'd never been anything but professional with each other, even in private. You'd never seen him in civvies before and had certainly never imagined that his hair, longer now than you’ve ever seen it, might curl a little in the humidity.

It wasn't fair, really, how much you enjoyed the sight of him.

You had spent the day wondering if this was the right decision. You worried you were reading too much into his request, that you were imagining the interest you thought you saw. But if nothing else, you hoped tonight would provide some insight.

You wanted this to go well.

You didn’t know how much of that was for your sake or his.

You push back from the counter, and Kix makes no move to follow. You turn back to the stove and continue working, a grin pulling at your lips. You don’t think he realizes that you can feel his gaze on you. He doesn't make any attempt to hide his staring.

The silence between you isn’t uncomfortable, but there is an undercurrent of something else, a tension you're not sure what to do with. You know that you aren't the only one feeling this way. He'd been nervous when he first arrived, and though he was more at ease now, the tension hadn't dissipated.

It's not an unwelcome feeling. If anything, it's the opposite. You enjoy knowing he's watching you, that you’re having some kind of effect on him. You enjoy having him here, alone. It's a different sort of intimacy, a different kind of closeness. You wonder if it's a step in the right direction.

You're not sure what to expect from him, but whatever it is, you're ready for it.

“How long until dinner is ready, doc? I'm starving over here." You don't have to turn to see him smile. You can hear it in his voice.

"Don't rush me," you scold, and he chuckles. "Dinner isn't ready until it's ready."

"I can't believe you're making me wait. It smells delicious."

"I'm glad you're enjoying yourself," you say, and you glance over your shoulder at him. "I was worried you wouldn't."

Kix raises his eyebrows. "Worried? About what?"

You turn away. "I don't know. I thought maybe you'd be disappointed."

"Why would I be disappointed?" he asks, sounding genuinely confused.

"I don't know." You shrug. "Maybe because we haven't really hung out before, and maybe you didn't want to, and—“

"No," he says, cutting you off. "I like spending time with you. I wanted to come."

You swallow, trying to keep your expression neutral despite the sudden tightness in your chest. "Oh."

"Besides, I've been meaning to ask for a while."

"Ask me what?" you ask, looking over at him.

He gives a half-shrug, the corner of his mouth twitching. "To have dinner with you."

Your face grows warm, and your stomach does a flip. You try to focus on the food, but it's difficult when all you can think about is the man behind you.

You hadn't realized just how much you wanted him to say that until he did.

"If it helps, I can promise that you won't regret it," you say, throwing a grin over your shoulder.

He leans his chin on his palm, grinning back. "I'm sure I won't."

You set a pot of water on the stove and turn on the burner.

"What're you doing?" he asks, sounding concerned.

"Boiling water."

"For what?"

"Kebroots."

He looks confused. "Aren't we having that stuff you're making now?"

"This is the sauce for the main dish," you say, gesturing with your spoon. It's easy to forget that he's never had a proper home-cooked meal in his life, and the thought of him getting to taste this one is more than a little thrilling. "The kebroots are going in the water."

"Why?"

"Because they need to boil."

He gives you a flat look, and you roll your eyes. "Do you want to know the answer to everything, or do you want to enjoy the surprise?"

"Fine," he says, sitting back. "But don't think you can keep me from learning your secrets."

You raise your eyebrows at him. "Is that so?"

He nods, grinning.

"Well, then," you say, smiling down at the pot. "I'll have to make sure you don't."

You're not usually one to play your cards so close to the vest. It's not like you to keep secrets, but there's something fun about the intrigue, something thrilling about keeping him in the dark.

"Can I at least have a hint?" he asks, resting his elbows on the counter.

You turn and prop yourself against the stove. "No. I already told you. It's a surprise."

"Come on, doc. You can't give me something?" he wheedles, his brown eyes sparkling with mirth. "Just a little something to tide me over."

"No."

"Please?"

"Nope."

"You're no fun."

"And yet, here you are,” you say with a teasing tilt of your head.

Kix grins, then sighs.

"Fine," he says and pushes back from the counter. "If that's the case, then I'm going to need more beer."

He disappears into the fridge. You don't turn, focusing instead on the task at hand. The sauce is nearly finished, but there are still a few steps left to complete.

You hear him move to your bookshelf, fingers lightly tapping along the spines of your books. You'd been surprised when he mentioned enjoying reading, since most clones you'd met didn't bother with it, preferring instead to watch holodramas or listen to the radio. But Kix liked books, which you were sure he kept to himself for fear of teasing from his brothers. You had a sneaking suspicion he was a romantic.

He stops to pull one out, running his fingers down the spine. "The Time Machine," he reads.

"It was one of my favorites as a kid," you explain. "I'm surprised it survived the trip here."

Kix puts it back in its place. "Have you ever read any of the Corellian Civil War holonovels?"

"No.” You shake your head. “I've never been a fan of war stories."

Kix snorts. "Me neither. There's only so many ways they can tell the same story."

"There's nothing like real-life experience," you say, and you immediately regret it.

"True," Kix agrees and doesn't press the matter. You’re thankful, your heart in your throat, that you hadn’t ruined the moment entirely, but you can’t help but feel a little on edge.

The two had been working together for several months, and though it wasn't uncommon for clone troopers and nat-born people to befriend one another, there was still an underlying tension between you, one that neither of you had the guts to address.

He'd asked you for dinner because he liked you. You accepted because you liked him.

Neither was quite sure what to do next.

The tension between you had grown more pronounced, and though neither of you made any effort to stop it, the unresolved feelings were starting to affect your work. You were both professionals and did your best not to let it interfere, but it was still there, a constant reminder of what was unsaid, a potential opportunity squandered.

Still, if you were going to pursue a relationship with anyone, you were glad it was him.

You had a fondness for him, and it had grown into something deeper. It wasn't just his looks. Though he was definitely the most handsome trooper in the GAR, that was never a primary consideration for you. You’ve spent nearly every waking moment around men who looked almost exactly like him, after all. But it was the differences, the small nuances that made him stand out, that drew your eye.

With the water finally boiling, you turn back to chopping the kebroot. The vegetable is a bit tricky to handle, its tough outer skin resisting the knife's edge. You steady your hand, apply more pressure, and try again.

You’re grateful Kix seems to be distracted by your books, allowing you to focus. If he saw you struggling, he’d probably try to offer help, and you want to do this on your own.

He was right earlier, when he said you didn't need to do all this for him.

You don't.

But you want to.

He's a good man, a hard worker, and you want to show him your appreciation. He deserves someone to take care of him for once.

When you think about it, the whole thing seems silly. You're grown adults, not hormonal teenagers. You can't believe you're making such a big deal out of something so simple.

But it is a big deal, and not just because he's the first man you've found attractive in a long time. It's the fact that you've been dancing around this for months, if not longer, and now you finally have an opportunity to explore the potential between you.

You’ve been trying your best not to picture him here, but with him in the apartment, it was difficult not to imagine. You worked together. You were friends. It was easy for you to forget that, and even easier to let your imagination run wild.

You can see him in the kitchen, helping you chop vegetables, or washing dishes at the sink. You can see him on the couch, his arm draped over the back, his legs spread wide, his head tilted back in a laugh. You can see him in bed, and that's where your mind wanders to the most.

You imagine how it might feel to kiss him, to touch him, to have him touch you. You wonder if he'll be gentle or if he'll be rough. You don't have a preference. You don't care as long as it's him. You want him to hold you. You want to feel him pressed against you, his chest against yours, his mouth against your neck, his hands running up your sides, slipping underneath your shirt—

You hiss out a curse as the knife slips, nicking the fleshy part of your finger. Blood wells up, a stark contrast against the green of the ruica.

"You okay?" Kix asks.

"I'm fine," you answer quickly.

You reach blindly for the towel, wrapping the cloth around the cut, trying to apply pressure. The cut isn’t deep, but it stings like hell.

"What happened?" he asks, appearing at your side.

"Nothing. I'm fine."

"Let me see," he says, and grabs the wrist of the hand holding the towel.

"It's not bad," you say and are about to pull away, but he doesn’t let go. He guides you to the sink and holds your hand under the tepid water. His eyes flicker from the wound to your face and back again, brows furrowed in a way you know means he’s gone into medic mode.

“Kix, I’m fine,” you huff. You try to withdraw your wrist, but he holds fast.

"Stop moving. You're bleeding all over the counter."

“Sorry,” you say. You can feel your cheeks burning. You should have been more careful.

His hands are warm. The pressure feels good. You can't remember the last time someone touched you like this. You want to pull away, to spare yourself the embarrassment of being this close to him, but he doesn't seem to mind. If anything, he seems determined.

“Where’s your med kit?” he asks, eyes still fixed on your hand.

You tell him where to find it, and he firmly instructs you to keep your hand under the water before he breaks into a jog toward the bathroom.

“Sit,” Kix commands when he returns, his tone no-nonsense.

You can't help but laugh.

He shoots you a glare as he opens the kit and begins removing the supplies. "I'm serious, doc. Sit."

He's so cute when he's bossy.

"Alright," you relent, pulling out a chair and sitting down. He grabs the chair across from you and drags it closer, positioning himself directly across from you.

"Gimme your hand," he orders, and you do as you're told, holding it out for him. He gently peels the towel back and sets it aside. You don't dare look. You're too embarrassed.

“Seriously, you don’t have to,” you assure him, but he just shakes his head and dabs the blood away with a clean corner of the towel.

“Should’ve known you’d be a Code 5,” he says your code word for a difficult patient with a roll of his eyes. He's only half joking.

“It’s a cut, not a stab wound,” you reply indignantly.

Kix shakes his head and reaches for the alcohol wipe. He opens it with his teeth and begins cleaning the area around the wound.

"I know that," he says, his voice softer. “I just don’t like seeing you hurt.”

He looks away to discard the wipe, and when he meets your gaze again, his eyes are filled with warmth and something else.

You don’t know how to respond.

It's a look that speaks volumes.

His touch is gentle, his fingers brushing against your palm. It's not necessary, but he does it anyway.

“Just let me take care of you,” Kix says quietly, his gaze locked on yours. “Please. For my sake.”

“Alright.” You nod, biting your lip once he turns away to grab a bandage. The intensity in his gaze surprises you. It’s different than the look he wears when you’re in the midst of surgery, different from the easy smile he wears when you’re with the men. This is something new, something unexpected.

It feels personal.

He tears the backing off the bandage and presses it gently over the cut. You try to focus on his hands instead of his face. His fingers are rough and calloused, and you how they'd feel against your bare skin.

The thought makes your stomach flutter.

It's not a foreign feeling. You've thought about this before, more times than you care to admit, but this is the first time you've been so close. This is the first time you let him.

When he finishes, he presses a kiss to your bandaged finger. The action is quick, almost thoughtless, and it catches you off guard. Kix freezes. His lips linger for a moment too long, and his cheeks flush pink.

He pulls back. "Sorry," he mumbles, not meeting your eyes.

"It's okay," you say, smiling shyly.

You're touched by the gesture. It's sweet and considerate, and exactly the sort of thing he'd do. His cheeks are flushed. You can't tell if he's embarrassed or if it's the proximity.

Your hand folds back into your lap. You can still feel the warmth of his lips on your skin. You don't know why the kiss affects you so much. It's not the first time you've been kissed, and it certainly won't be the last, but something about his touch makes your pulse quicken.

"You're sweet," you say, trying to lighten the mood.

He grins, shaking his head. "Don't let that get around."

"My lips are sealed."

He glances down at your mouth, his grin fading. You feel a thrill rush through you, the hair on the back of your neck standing up. Your heart starts to beat faster.

"Good," he whispers, his voice low and husky.

You don't move.

You don't want to break the spell.

Kix's eyes search yours, looking for some sign of reciprocation. He's giving you a chance to tell him no, to push him away.

Instead, your hand comes up to cup his cheek. Your thumb brushes across his bottom lip. You feel the breath leave his lungs, feel him lean into your touch. His eyes are hooded, pupils blown wide.

"Kix?"

"Yeah?" he whispers.

"You should kiss me," you breathe.

Kix rises to his feet, leaning down so that his face is only inches from yours. You take in his features, his warm eyes, the way they're trained on your lips, the way he's watching your every move as if waiting for you to change your mind.

His thumb caresses your cheek, and he waits a breath more before leaning in to press his lips to yours.

You sigh into his touch, bringing your other hand up to grab the back of his head. The kiss is soft, unhurried, a slow slide of lips.

Your tongue slides across his bottom lip, and he groans, pulling you closer, deepening the kiss. His hands roam over your shoulders, down your back, over your hips, his fingertips brushing the exposed skin above your waistband.

You part, and you let your forehead rest against his, both of you catching your breath. Eventually, you pull back, swallowing nervously.

"I'm sorry," you say. "I don't know why I did that."

"I do," he replies.

You look up in surprise and find him watching you. His eyes are bright, and he's smiling, a real smile, not the forced one he sometimes uses around others.

"I've wanted to do that since the day we met," he admits, his cheeks reddening slightly. "And I'm not sorry it happened."

"Really?" you ask, trying not to sound too eager.

He nods, the hand on your cheek moving to play with the ends of your hair. "You're beautiful. And smart. And you take no shit, especially from me. What’s not to like?"

You laugh and lean in to kiss him again. He returns the kiss eagerly, his hand resting on your lower back to pull you closer.

"I wasn't going to say anything," he continues between kisses. "I didn't think you would want this."

"Well, I do." You grin. "Very much."

He groans and leans in to capture your lips again, but you stop him with a finger to his lips. He raises an eyebrow, waiting for you to continue.

"The food's burning."

Kix's eyes go wide, and he rounds the counter in a flash, quickly grabbing the pot off the burner and setting it aside.

"Shit," he curses, and you can't help but laugh at the panicked expression on his face.

"Relax. I'm kidding," you say, and you follow him to wrap your arms around waist. He relaxes into your touch, his hands coming up to rest on your hips.

“Can it be reheated?” he asks, his expression hopeful.

You quirk an eyebrow. “Yeah.”

“Good.”

His hands slide up to cup either side of your face and pull you into another kiss, one you can feel all the way down to your toes. He presses you up against the counter, his body flush against yours.

You whine into his mouth at the feeling of his tongue against yours, your fingers gripping his hair to ground yourself. He tastes like beer and something else, something dark and earthy.

It's delicious, and you can't get enough.

His lips leave yours to trail across your cheek to your neck, peppering kisses along your jaw, his teeth scraping along your pulse.

"We should probably wait until after dinner to do this," you breathe, tilting your head to give him better access.

"I can't," he replies, his voice rough, his hands roaming across your body.

"Me either," you agree, and let him lift you onto the counter. Your legs wrap around his hips instinctively, your hands cupping his face as you bring him in for another kiss.

His hands are everywhere, his touch electric, and you want him to touch you everywhere, his hands and his lips, his mouth and his tongue.

Your hands slide underneath his shirt, pushing the material up until he has to withdraw to pull it off over his head. You take in the expanse of his bare torso, the way the muscles ripple under your touch, and your heart feels like it's about to beat out of your chest.

"You're gorgeous," you say, your hands coming to rest on his chest. You could feel the steady beat of his heart beneath your palm, his chest rising and falling with each breath.

"You are," he says. "And I've wanted this for so long."

He reaches behind you to remove your shirt, leaving you in your bra and pants. You feel exposed, vulnerable, and you want him to touch you, to make you feel good, to ease the ache that's been building inside you since the first time he smiled at you.

He dips his head to kiss you again, his hands sliding up to tangle in your hair. Your mouth opens to his, and he takes advantage, deepening the kiss and pushing his tongue against yours. He nips at your bottom lip, sucking it between his teeth, and you moan, pulling him closer.

His lips travel across your jaw, down your neck, along your collarbone. His hands find the clasp of your bra and make quick work of the latch, leaving you bare. You shiver, the cool air hitting your skin, goosebumps breaking out over your skin.

"Fuck, you're beautiful," he whispers, and he leans down to take one nipple into his mouth.

"Oh," you gasp, arching your back into him.

He sucks the sensitive bud between his lips, swirling his tongue around the peak, teasing you. He takes the other nipple between his thumb and forefinger, tugging and twisting, sending sparks of pleasure through you.

Your head falls back, and you moan his name, your fingers holding tight to his neck, your thighs squeezing his hips.

You can feel the heat of him against you, the hard ridge of his cock pressing against your center, and you grind down against him, desperate for friction.

His mouth leaves your breast, and he kisses you, his tongue tangling with yours, his hand coming up to cup your cheek. You drag him closer, your hands running over his back, exploring every inch of his warm, firm skin.

His lips trail across your cheek, and you gasp as he presses open-mouthed kisses down your neck. He pauses to suck a bruise into the sensitive skin where your neck meets your shoulder, his hands massaging your waist.

"What do you want, mesh’la?" he murmurs, his mouth trailing along your collarbone.

"You," you reply, your voice breaking into a moan when he bites down gently on your shoulder, and you can't help but buck your hips.

You can feel him grin against your skin. "You have me."

"Bed," you manage, your hands gripping at his shoulders. "Now."

Kix chuckles, his hands sliding down to cup your ass. He pulls you flush against him, your arms wrapping around his neck as he lifts you off the counter. Your legs tighten around his waist and you bury your face in his neck to muffle your gasp as he walks you down the short hallway toward your bedroom.

Kix kisses you deeply as he lays you on the bed, hovering above you for a moment before he ducks down to press a kiss to your stomach.

His lips trail lower, dipping just above the waistband of your pants. Your breath hitches at the feeling of his mouth on you, the scratch of his stubble against the sensitive skin there. The idea of what he’ll feel like between your thighs has you nodding before he’s even asked the question, his hands hovering on your waist.

Kix’s fingers hook into the waistband, slowly sliding your pants and underwear down your legs. You help him, lifting your hips so he can pull them off. Your panties stick to the slick dampening your center, and Kix lets out a barely concealed moan at the darkened patch there before tearing them away.

You expect him to discard them over your shoulder with your pants, but he shocks you by giving you a bashful smile and tucking them into his back pocket.

"Really?" you ask, trying to stifle your amusement.

"What?" He gives you a look that's almost innocent, if not for the fact that he's hovering above you, half-naked and fully aroused.

“Nothing. I just didn't expect you to want to keep them."

"Do you mind?" he asks, his expression turning serious.

"Not at all," you say, and watch with rapt attention as his expression turns devious.

"Good. I plan to treasure these," he teases, and he presses a kiss to your bare knee. You shudder at the touch, at the implication behind his words.

"Now where were we?" he murmurs, his voice husky, his eyes dark as he lowers himself to his knees on the floor in front of you.

He grabs the back of your ankles and tugs, and you let out a squeak as you're pulled until your ass is nearly hanging off the edge. It’s a precarious position that’s immediately rectified by Kix arranging your legs so they’re thrown over each of his shoulders, his face level with your exposed center.

The feeling of his breath against your cunt is almost too much to bear, your legs wanting to close instinctually, but he quickly stops you with a firm hand on either thigh.

“Hold still, beautiful,” he commands softly, his eyes fixed on your wet, swollen folds.

“Kix—“

Whatever you meant to say evaporates as soon he darts forward, tongue flattening to lick a stripe from your entrance to your clit. You nearly forget your own name when he parts your lips with one hand to give him better access, zeroing in on your clit without any direction from you.

His licks start out soft, then steadily increase in pressure until you're nearly grinding on his tongue. The scratch of his stubble against you feels as good as you imagined. He eats you out like he’s starving, with a passion you knew he possessed but never dared to dream he’d apply to you in this way.

He withdraws for a moment to take a deep breath, his eyes flicking up to yours, pupils blown wide. “More?”

You nod frantically, though you aren’t sure what you're agreeing to. Anything to keep his hands and mouth on you. “Please.”

Kix dives back in, lapping up the juices leaking from you before returning back to your clit. Zaps of pleasure jolt up your spine and turn into a burning heat when you feel something nudge your entrance. His finger slips inside with ease, stroking your walls and the fire building inside of you, your eyelids fluttering shut.

He finds the spongey part deep inside you within seconds, hooking his finger upward to press firmly and drawing a gasp from you. With his target found, he adds another finger and begins to slowly curl them, pushing his hand in and out in a rhythm that has you seeing stars.

His lips close around your clit, suddenly sucking hard, and you gasp.

Your hips jolt off the bed, thighs closing involuntarily around his head, and he groans loudly. Your eyes open abruptly, worrying you've hurt him somehow.

Instead, you find his eyes closed, brow furrowed in pleasure, and the hand he’d been using to hold you open has retreated. From your vantage point, you can only see his arm moving, and you realize with a moan that he’s languidly palming his cock in time with the thrusting of his fingers.

As if he can sense you watching, Kix opens his eyes. Though his mouth doesn’t let up in its assault on your clit, you can see the smile in his eyes as he stares back. His fingers speed up as he pulls back to speak, punching the air from your lungs and sending you falling back against the bed.

“Can you take three?”

“Ye-es.” You hiccup at the feeling of a third thick finger slowly breaching you, stuffing you fuller than you've ever been able to manage on your own. The coil in your stomach tightens with each push and pull into your wet heat. Every thrust of his fingers sends you higher and higher, your entire body writhing with the force of it.

“Look at you," he groans. "So tight and wet. Taking my fingers so well, like you were made for me."

Your hands come up to fist the sheets at your sides, the coil in your belly winding tighter and tighter with each word, the way he moans between your legs, the way his eyes flutter closed in bliss as he fucks you with his hand. You can feel yourself approaching your peak, your walls clenching and fluttering around his fingers.

"Are you gonna come for me?"

"Yes." You gasp, your thighs starting to shake with the strain.

"Come on," he encourages, taking your clit between his lips and sucking, his tongue flicking rapidly against you. "Let go, beautiful."

Your eyes slam shut, and your orgasm slams into you with a force unlike anything you've felt before. It rips through your body, the heat coiled inside your exploding, your walls clamping down on his fingers as you writhe. You feel yourself nearly come out of your body, tingling pleasure coursing through you in waves.

Just as you're beginning to wonder if it’ll ever stop, it begins to fade, leaving you panting and sweating as your body collapses against the bed.

“Holy shit,” you say breathlessly. Kix chuckles from the floor, and you push yourself up on your elbows to look at him after you regain control of your limbs. He’s staring back at you, a dreamy smile on his face, the entire lower half dampened with your arousal.

“How was that?” he asks.

“I think you know,” you laugh, breathless. “I thought I was about to suffocate you there for a second.”

“Worth it, trust me.” He sighs wistfully, his eyes a little unfocused. “I don't think I've ever seen anything so hot in my life."

"You're such a charmer," you tease, reaching down to run your fingers through his hair.

"Just telling the truth," he smiles, and presses a kiss to your inner thigh.

Kix helps you lower your trembling legs from his shoulders before glancing down at the hand that was just inside you. He lifts it up to his mouth, sucking his fingers and tasting your release with a thoughtful hum before he moves to stand.

“Just as I thought.”

“What?”

“I knew you’d taste incredible.”

He kisses you, tongue pushing its way inside your mouth to tangle with your own. You moan when you taste yourself on his tongue, chasing after him when he pulls away to push his pants off completely.

You want to keep kissing him, keep feeling his mouth against yours, but you're distracted by the sight of his cock springing free from his small black briefs as he slides them down his strong thighs.

Your mouth drops open in disbelief.

“You’re kidding.”

Kix’s fingers, slick with his spit and the remnants of your release, circle the head of his cock. It’s half-hard from his concentrated efforts on your cunt, but it quickly springs to life under his attention. Even not fully erect, it’s by far the most impressive cock you've ever seen. Thick, a sizable length, and now curving up toward his stomach, you can’t look away.

Saliva begins to pool on your tongue at the thought of having him in your mouth, but before you can lean forward to act on your desires, he’s pushing you back on the bed.

“If I knew all you clones were packing —“

He cuts you off with a bruising kiss.

“Careful, mesh’la.” The Mando’a comes out in a growl as he crowds you against the bed, slotting himself between your legs. His hand slides up your thigh to your breast, pinching a nipple. “I’m not big on sharing.”

You let out a breathless giggle as his mouth descends to follow the path his hand has taken, sucking your other nipple into his mouth. The feeling of his mouth and teeth on your chest makes you moan, your hips bucking against his.

"Kix, please."

He kisses back up your chest and throat to press his forehead against yours. You can feel the way his fingers tremble against you as he reaches down to line himself up with your entrance, and your hand comes up to cup his cheek.

"Are you nervous?"

"Yes," he admits, eyes closing as he takes a deep breath.

"We don't have to do this," you assure him.

His eyes shoot open. "I want this more than anything."

"Okay," you smile.

He lets out a sigh, his body relaxing above you. "Sorry, it's just... I've wanted this for a long time, and I just don't want to mess it up."

"You won't." Your arms come around to wrap around his neck. "But I'll tell you if I'm not liking something."

He nods, ducking down to kiss you deeply. Your legs come up to wrap around his waist, and he groans into your mouth as the head of his cock rubs against your clit.

"Please," you whine as he begins to rock his hips. His cock glides easily through your slick folds, and his lips drop back to your neck. "Inside me, Kix."

"Maker, you're wet." His cock slips back down to your entrance, and you bite your lip as the head begins to breach you.

"That's what happens when you make a girl cum," you quips, moaning as he slowly inches inside of you. You feel every inch of him, the stretch more than you're used to but still deliciously perfect. "Oh, fuck!"

He stops, pulling back to look at you with concern. "Are you okay? Am I hurting you?"

"No! No, it's just... " you laugh breathlessly, your hand coming up to caress his cheek. "You're huge. Fuck, Kix."

He smirks, leaning down to kiss you as he continues to push inside of you. The stretch is unlike anything you've ever felt, and it's making your head spin. He feels amazing, thick and hot and throbbing inside of you.

"Fuck, you feel good," he grunts. "I wish you could see how good you look taking my cock."

Your cunt clenches around him at his words, and he groans. He buries his face in your neck, pressing kisses along your jaw, his breath coming out in hot puffs against your skin.

When he bottoms out, you both let out a shaky breath.

"Stars," you gasp, your fingers digging into his shoulders. "Kix, you feel amazing."

"So do you," he grits out. "You take my cock so well, mesh'la. Like you were made for me."

You moan at his words, his hips pulling back to thrust shallowly into you. You can't help the whine that escapes you, your legs tightening around his waist to pull him closer. The slow drag of his cock against your walls is almost too much, pleasure bordering on the line between pain.

"Faster," you pants, your nails scratching down his back. "Harder, Kix. I need it."

"Anything you want," he replies, his hips picking up speed.

He kisses you, tongue plunging into your mouth as he begins to snap his hips against yours. Your eyes roll back at the feeling of him filling you, the slick sounds of your cunt and his thrusts echoing throughout the room.

Kix fucks you like it's his last chance, hard and fast and rough, like he's afraid you’ll disappear at any moment, and you can barely do anything but hold on.

He changes the angle of his hips slightly, and your mouth drops open as a strangled cry is torn from your lips. His cock rubs against your sweet spot with each stroke, and his head drops to your chest as his hips slam against yours.

"Stars, mesh’la, you feel incredible," he grunts, pressing his face into your neck. His teeth sink into the juncture where your neck meets your shoulder, and you let out a strangled gasp.

"Oh, fuck. Don't stop, Kix," you pants, your voice breaking into a sob, your hand tangling in his hair to tug on it. His hips stutter for a moment before he picks up the pace, your entire body jolting with the force of each thrust. He's fucking you so hard, his cock driving into you with enough force that your entire body rocks with the force of it. "Kix, oh kriff."

He withdraws from your neck, his mouth returning to yours. He swallows your moans, hips pumping into your faster as you squeeze around him. The feeling of him stretching you is intoxicating, and you never want it to end. You wonder if it would be too much to ask him to stay inside your forever, his thick cock plugging you up so nothing could slip out. You feel him everywhere, all around you and inside you. It's overwhelming in the best possible way.

"Kix," you whimper, breaking the kiss to bury your face in his neck. Your teeth scrape along his skin, and you revel in the groan that escapes him. His hands tighten on your hips, thumbs pressing against the bones there.

"Mesh’la," he gasps. "Kriff, I'm getting close."

"Me, too."

You can feel the fire burning low in your stomach, your walls fluttering around him. You dig your heels into his ass, encouraging him to go even deeper, and you see stars when he hits the spot inside you that makes your toes curl.

"Right there, Kix!"

He changes angles so he's hitting your g-spot on every thrust, his mouth dropping back to your neck. You can feel the sweat beading on his skin, the way his muscles flex under your hands with every movement. You scratch down his back, hips jerking to meet his, and you know he must be close. His thrusts are becoming more erratic, his breathing heavier.

"Kix, I'm gonna--" you gasp, your hand cupping the back of his neck.

He buries his face in your neck, placing open-mouthed kisses on every inch of skin in his reach. The hand on your hip slides between you, and you nearly scream when he begins to circle your clit with his thumb.

"Cum for me, beautiful," he mutters, biting your earlobe.

Your orgasm comes out of nowhere, your body seizing up as you cums. White-hot pleasure courses through you, your thighs shaking around him. You can vaguely hear him whispering praise in your ear, but you can't focus on anything except the feeling of his cock still pounding into your as you ride out your high.

"So good, mesh'la. I love the way your pussy squeezes my cock. You look so pretty when you cum, you know that?” he babbles with a low groan, hips beginning to stutter. “Fuck, I'm not gonna last."

You manage to regain your bearings after a moment, your body feeling like jelly. Your limbs feel like they weigh a ton, but you're determined. You need to see him lose control, need to see him fall apart because of you. You know he's close, can feel his thrusts becoming more and more uneven.

"Cum for me, Kix," you order. You can't help the smug smirk that overtakes your features as he groans loudly. "I want to see you."

"Mesh'la," he chokes out, hips losing their rhythm as he fucks you.

"Let go, baby." You lean up to nip his jaw, the hand on the back of his neck tangling in his hair. He looks so beautiful above you, eyes screwed shut, a flush coloring his cheeks. His skin is shining with sweat, muscles flexing as he pushes himself further.

"Look at me."

His eyes flutter open, and you nearly cum again. The sight of him, eyes half-lidded and mouth hanging open, is almost enough to tip you over the edge.

"Fuck," he gasps, hips pistoning into your erratically.

"Cum for me," you repeat.

The grip on your hips is almost bruising as he buries himself inside you. His hips jerk once, twice, and then he's gone, moaning loudly as he cums. You can feel the pulsing of his cock inside you, the warm wetness flooding your cunt, and you can't help the whine that escapes you.

"Kriff," he grunts, head dropping down to rest against yours. You stay like that for a moment, both panting, the only sounds in the room the faint hum of the rain outside and your heavy breathing.

You feel boneless, completely and utterly spent. If you were to die right now, you'd die happy. Kix props himself up on his forearms, brushing your sweaty hair from your face with a grin. He presses a soft kiss to your lips, and you smile tiredly.

"Hey," you whisper.

"Hey," he replies. He ducks down to kiss you again, his smile widening. Has he always had dimples? How did you not notice those before? "How are you feeling?"

"Messy,” you laugh. You glance down at the place where your bodies are joined, feeling him twitch inside you.

"Let me take care of that," he says, gently sliding out of you. The sound he makes when he leaves your body is positively sinful, and your thighs clench at the feeling of his cum leaking out of you.

Kix brushes another kiss against your temple before standing from the bed. You watch with half-lidded eyes as he disappears into the refresher, returning a moment later with a damp washcloth. He cleans you up gently, tossing the cloth in the direction of the refresher once he's finished.

"Come here," you murmur, reaching out for him.

He climbs into bed beside you, and you roll onto your side to press yourself against his chest, throwing your leg over his. His arms come around you immediately, holding you close as he peppers kisses on your hair. You snuggle closer, sighing happily as the warmth radiating from him cocoons around you. His hands run over every inch of available skin as if he's committing it to memory.

"I can't believe we waited so long to do that," you mumbled against his chest.

Kix laughs, the vibrations running through his chest and into yours. You're suddenly aware of how bare you both are, how you're pressed together from shoulder to toe. It should be unnerving, but it isn't. You feel safe.

"Me either. We should've been doing that this whole time."

You giggle, your hand running across his side to rest on his ribs. You can feel the steady thump of his heartbeat beneath your palm. "Maybe next time you can fuck me on a med table."

He groans, the hand on your waist moving down to squeeze your ass. "That violates about ten different health codes."

"Fine. The supply closet, then."

"Mesh’la —" The words are a choked moan, and you can’t help but laugh.

"You're cute when you're flustered."

"You're a menace."

You lean up to press a kiss to his jaw, smirking. "But you like it.”

"You're right," he chuckles, leaning down to capture your lips in a gentle kiss. "I do."

You hum happily, your eyes fluttering closed as his lips move slowly against yours before a rumbling sensation under your hand makes them shoot open.

"Was that your stomach?"

Kix blushes and looks away. "Maybe."

You roll your eyes fondly, pushing away from his chest. He whines, trying to pull your back against him.

“You’re hungry,” you laugh.

"I am not," he protests weakly.

You stand from the bed, grinning when his eyes immediately drop to your body. His gaze is so heated that you can't help but flush, and it only burns brighter when you bend over to pick up your pants, and he lets out a low groan.

"Mesh'la, if you keep doing that, I'll never let you leave this bed," he growls.

You bite your lip, your eyes flickering down to the sheet barely covering his growing erection. The sight is mouthwatering, and your mind fills with a thousand different ideas about what you'd like to do with him. But your stomach growls again, and you sigh, walking toward the refresher.

"Where are you going?" he pouts, propping himself up on his elbows.

"You're not the only one who's hungry." You stop at the door, giving him a mischievous smile. "And if you're a good boy, I'll make it worth the wait."

Kix is quiet for a moment before he speaks. "I can wait."

"Good boy."

His responding groan has you grinning from ear to ear as you disappear behind the door, your laughter echoing off the walls.

#clone medic kix #clone trooper kix #kix x reader #the clone wars #clone x reader #clone smut #roy writes #kix #does pizza exist in the star wars universe? too late now

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she-who-fights-and-writes · 30 days

Note

Hi! Firstly, thank you for creating this blog and helping all of us out! Secondly, and sorry if this is such a silly question, but how do you write an engaging summary?

I find my own fic summaries are so… lackluster… and not even I’m interested in reading it — so how I can I expect others to be? Even if I like my story, when I write the summary in the start of my fic/in my masterlist, I’m like “Wow… this is not even remotely interesting! 😭”

So yeah, I was wondering if you had any tips/advice for that? 😭 Totally fine if not, I just figured I’d ask. Thanks and have a great day/night! 😘

HOW TO WRITE AN ENGAGING FIC SUMMARY THAT WILL DRAW IN AUDIENCES

Summaries are the bane of many writers’ existences, including my own. It’s already hard enough to get the words down on paper for the actual story, and now people want you to convince them to read it with something more than “I WORKED REALLY HARD ON IT PLEASE IT’S GOOD I PROMISE!!!!”

Squishing a ton of context into a small blurb seems impossible, but I promise it can be done!

Obviously everyone goes about things differently, and a lot of these tips may not work for everyone, but nevertheless, here are some tricks on how to write an engaging summary!

Here’s a simple template I like to use, which will be the focus of this post:

Hook (Draw the reader in!)

Context (What are the core elements of your story?)

Cliffhanger (Introduce a question/scenario that the reader will want to click to know more about!)

1. Start With a Hook

Just like with the first sentence of a story, the first sentence of your summary should immediately spark the reader’s interest.

A bold statement! A good (short) quote from your fic! A shocking discovery! A cool word definition/the definition of your title!

I always like to put the hook of the story on its own line/paragraph, just to emphasize it.

Examples of a hook (Note, these are rushed and off the top of my head. Just meant to give a general idea, not be literary masterpieces): - "It all started when Character A puked on their Uber driver." - "War was inevitable." - "Character A would be dead by sunrise. That’s what Character B vowed." - "By the time they got to the city, it was too late."

Your hook is probably the most important part of your summary; someone will know within milliseconds whether or not they will continue reading.

Once you’re past that initial hump, it’ll be easier to convince a potential reader to skim the rest of the summary. Giving something that jumps out at them will set your story apart from others and ensure it gets that click you deserve!

2. Give Some Context

For shorter one-shots, sometimes a single hook is enough! But if your fic is longer, with a bit more moving parts, you might want to choose a few highlights. Get the essence of your story on paper.

This can be super hard, so don’t feel discouraged if you feel like you’re not getting it. I’d suggest keeping your context to about 1-3 sentences depending on the length of your story, so make sure they count.

Buzzwords are a key factor in getting the main points across. Use ones that relate to your main plot to your advantage!

For example, if I were to make a short summary of Game of Thrones for someone who has never watched it before, I would definitely include some of these buzzwords: - Dragons - Conquest - Succession - Revenge - Slaughter - Betrayal

Using powerful words (i.e. slaughtered instead of killed) can help draw in your audience!

I can't dictate exactly how you should write your context, since every fic is different and shouldn't be brought under an umbrella of the same rules, so it might help to find inspiration from other people’s summaries.

3. Pose a Question the Reader Will Want the Answer To

The biggest point of a summary is the “so what?” factor. You have all of these tags, but how does the fic make use of them?

A summary shouldn’t be giving all of the answers, but it should still leave crumbs for the reader’s imagination! This doesn’t mean that you literally need to put a question in the summary, but rather pose an unresolved scenario/problem that the reader will want to click to know the solution to.

Here are some example sentence templates that pose an indirect question, often put at the end of a summary to spark interest (Note, these are rushed and off the top of my head. Just meant to give a general idea, not be literary masterpieces): - "Everything changes the moment Character A makes a choice they can't take back." (What is that choice? How does it affect the other characters?) - "As the truth comes to light, nothing will ever be the same." (What is the truth? How does it change things?) - "A dangerous game begins, and only one can emerge unscathed." (Who will be that person?) - “It’s the first time they meet, but it won’t be the last” (What will be these next instances? How do their worlds collide?)

4. Some General Advice

If you don't think the above format works well with your fic, here's just some general advice that can help you out!

DON'T MAKE IT TOO LONG

The biggest mistake I see writers making when posting their work is having a giant four-paragraph summary for their story that takes up half of the feed.

Unfortunately, in an age of fast swiping and instant gratification, a reader may skip over a super long summary simply because they don’t feel like reading all of it.

(The reason why long summaries work for books is because people are more patient when they intend on paying to read something; they’ll take more time considering investments than they would with a free read, since they want to make sure it's worth their money. It’s not fair, but that’s kind of how it goes.)

In my opinion, a fic summary should be no more than one short paragraph, two or three sentences max for a one-shot and maybe five sentences for a long fic.

This isn't exact. It really depends on the length and complexity of the sentence, because no matter the how many you use, if there are enough words to make folks comprehend it as a big block of text, then they’re going to be more likely to skip it.

People looking for long fics will be more patient (since they’re making an investment with their time, rather than money) but if you want to appeal to a wider audience that may be casually browsing and stumble across your fic, definitely consider a more brief route.

PROOFREADING MATTERS!

Because summaries are often an afterthought, many writers don’t put as much effort into it as they would the rest of their story.

I wouldn’t recommend this; people are basing their ENTIRE initial opinion of your fic on this small blurb.

If you rush it and make spelling or grammar errors, people will assume that the rest of your fic is also riddled with errors and scroll past!

Make sure to proofread!

Hope this helped, and happy writing!

#writing #writing tips #writing advice #writing help #writeblr #booklr #creative writing #fic #fanfiction #ao3 #fanfic #fic summary #summary #writing summaries

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alottiegoingon · 6 months

Text

flannels

summary: where shauna catches you wearing her flannel

shauna shipman x fem!reader (all characters are aged up + in college)

warnings: established relationship, pre-crash, minimal usage of bad words, yellowjackets but in college, NSFW content!!! (MDNI), fingering, dom!shauna, sub!reader, probably a bunch of english mistakes and bad writing, not proofread

Shauna’s birthday was coming up and for the past three months you have been struggling. You and Shauna were officially dating for almost six months now and you wanted to give her something special to let her know how much you loved her. That’s why you decided to skip practice today and go straight to her house after class by making up some silly excuse. You knew that she was smart and wouldn't believe you at all but you were willing to take the risk. As time was running low, you decided on the one thing that you knew that Shauna would love.

Flannels. She would wear them everywhere and at any occasion. You could track her from miles away just by looking for a girl wearing oversized flannel shirts and, honestly, it was one of your favorite things about her. You could worry about other small gifts later, but now you were determined to find the exact size of her clothes and that’s why you were standing in front of her house, waiting for her mom to open the door for you.

You didn’t want Shauna to find out, you wanted to be a surprise. That’s what you told her mother when you called her the other day, explaining the situation and practically begging her to let you sneak into her room while her daughter was out. Gladly, you were a sweetheart. At least this is what her parents called you. Always a sweet angel, a good influence for their daughter.

Now, you were stepping into your girlfriend’s room. The light from the string lights in the wall by her bed was on, giving the bedroom a dark pinkish tone along with the small lampshade. Taking a quick glance, you could see thousands of pictures of Shauna with her friends, especially her best friend Jackie, and of you two hanging on her wall and in portraits by her desk. In a blink of an eye, you remind yourself of the reason why you were skipping practice and would probably get your ass beaten by Jackie tomorrow, you had no time to lose. Rushing into Shauna’s closet, you get in, not taking longer than a second to find what you were looking for.

The amount of variety of colors in the shirts made you giggle as you were reaching out for one of the many to check the size on the small tag. It wasn’t a surprise that it was only one size apart from yours and to be fair, you always wondered about how comfortable it would be to wear them. Shauna would probably take hours to come home since Jackie was not much of a compassionate soul when it came to soccer and would always make the girls almost faint of exhaustion by the time practice was over. You had nothing to worry about.

You smell Shauna’s perfume lingering in the air as you put on one of her flannels and button it up. It only made you miss her more now, distracting your brain from the actual reason you were in her room. You look in the mirror close to the bed and you finally understand why she loves this so much. It’s cute, comfortable and it surprisingly matches with the pants and shirt that you were wearing with no effort.

“Are you in the closet?” Your heart almost stopped beating and you feel your blood turning to ice in your veins as a very familiar voice reverberate through the room. You turn around with the speed of light to find Shauna standing, leaning against the doorframe and staring at you, narrowing her eyes in suspicion. The seriousness in her posture and even the slight fear that would leak through her intense stare was being betrayed by a goofy smirk on the corner of her lips.

“Sorry, I couldn’t find a better way to tell you.” You make use of the most soothing tone you can achieve, exaggerating a pout as you approach your girlfriend. “Shauna, I’m gay.” Your pout fades away as quickly as it started, being replaced by a cheeky smirk on your lips, and your girlfriend lets out a soft chuckle. You feel Shauna’s arms gently embracing you, sliding through your sides and getting tighter around your waist. Like an automatic response, you wrap your arms around her neck, both of you failing to hold silly smiles.

“I thought you were sick but… Apparently you were just in the mood for stealing your girlfriend’s clothes?” She teases and you can even notice a bit of a flirting in her voice. She looks away from your eyes, dragging her attention to your body and how her flannel looked slightly bigger on you, gracefully falling from your shoulders to the middle of your thighs. You, however, do not look away from her and you see her big dilating pupils glistening differently. She loses her arms around your body to unbutton the first ones, catching your attention. “What are you doing here?” She insists as you remain quiet.

“Waiting for you…” You shrug. As usual, you couldn’t hold the eye contact when you lied poorly and Shauna noticed it at the exact same second. “Waiting for me in my bedroom instead of going to practice and leave together?” She lifted one eyebrow, trying her best to not smile. It was kind of amusing to her how you had such a bad time lying and how easy it was for her to figure it out. “You are such a bad liar.”

“I know! It’s so hard!” You exhale in relief. It’s not like you were a good liar and would be able to keep the lie for much longer. It wasn’t on your plans to reveal your idea but Shauna was smart. Probably way smarter than you, and would have figured out if you were lying again. “I was trying to find your size to buy you another flannel. I know you love them and I just…” You stop.

You feel the warmth of Shauna’s hands going down from your shoulders to your biceps and giving it a gentle squeeze in a reassuringly way, subtly asking you to continue.

“I don’t know what I should do for your birthday, alright? I can’t find anything good enough, it has to be perfect! I’m a terrible girlfriend.” You grumble and the next thing you hear is Shauna’s surprise scoff.

“What?!” She doesn’t even let you consider saying something else. She had to intervene and stop this nonsense. “Listen. I don’t need a perfect gift.” She innocently mocks you while mimicking your desperate need to give her something flawless. Her hands reach up, her palms resting on your cheeks, cupping your face and forcing you to look into her eyes. You almost get lost in them, like always.

“I literally managed to date the prettiest girl in Wiskayok High, this is the best gift that I could ever receive. The only thing I want is to spend the day with you, you idiot.” She murmurs and you see her cheeks getting a new color, a light shade of pink. No matter how hard it was for her to show her feelings, she would always push her limits and face her fear, eager to let you know how important and loved you were and you appreciated her effort a lot.

For a moment you find yourself wanting to look away, too flustered to not break the eye contact, but you can’t miss your girlfriend’s reddish face. “Fine. I just wanted to give you something special.” You whine and see Shauna’s expression change ever so slight as she suddenly breaks the eye contact and shifts her attention to your body. “Maybe I have something in mind.”

In less than five minutes you were lying in Shauna’s bed with her on top of you as her lips were busy marking the skin of your neck. “You know that your mom is home, right?” You ask, running out of breath already, just to hear a muffled attempt of your girlfriend to pronounce slurred words. “I locked the door, it’s fine.”

You figured what Shauna’s idea of a perfect gift was when you were about to take off her flannel and she immediately stopped you. She was begging you to let her fuck you while you wear it and you could swear that her pupils got bigger than usual.

You made a pitiful sound as her teeth dig into your neck, claiming you and brushing her warm tongue right on top of the recent wound. Your hands were on her head, fingers getting lost between her dark hair, as you were nearly melting under her. Shauna, on the other hand, was fierce and while doing a very good job on your neck, her right hand was exploring your upper body. The coldness of her fingertips made you squeak when she got under your shirt and slowly scratched your stomach. Soon she was already playing with your nipples, pinching and squeezing as much as she wanted to and it was driving you crazy already. “Shauna-“ You tried to catch her attention and beg her to just fuck you but she interrupts you.

“Patience.” Her tone is firm as she mutters her words, this time leaving your neck alone to give your lips lots of quick pecks as a way to shut you up. It worked every time. On her knees between your legs, she takes her time at finishing unbuttoning her flannel that you were wearing, staring at you intensely. She lifts the cute white shirt that you were wearing underneath up to your chest and gets down on you. Her face is inches away from your skin and you feel your clit throbbing as you anticipate everything in your head.

You were forced to cover your own mouth to avoid any loud moans when Shauna’s tongue met your stomach. Her hands were moving through your sides and no matter how awkward you could possibly find; she was always looking at you feeling completely mesmerized even by your tiniest reaction to her touch and while wearing her clothes. It takes her seconds to unzip and undo your jeans and you help her to toss it on the floor. Unlike your jeans, your damp panties didn’t get the same faith. Instead, Shauna just pulled them down to your ankles and you accidentally whine, excited to feel her or anything coming from her. It didn’t take longer before Shauna was kissing your inner thighs purposefully close to your core. Her grip was tight on your legs, forcing you to spread them as far as you could.

“Stop teasing.” You cooed. Better, you begged. Giving up on quieten your moans, your hands went straight to the bed and firmly grabbed the sheets. Shauna didn’t seem as desperate as you, of course, and she was enjoying making you squirm under her. It was her favorite view. “Just be quiet.” Impatiently, she slaps your thigh and the sharp sound fills the room along with an unexpected moan of yours. She kisses your thighs for a few more seconds, holding them in place and exposing your wet pussy completely, and after what it felt like hours, she goes back to meet you.

You groan in annoyance, completely shocked by how she just left you hanging. Your lips parted, ready to complain or say anything to make Shauna get back there but she was faster and your attempt to mutter a few words changed to a gasp as you feel her fingers barely rubbing up and down on your soaked pussy, feeling all of you. “How are you so wet already?” She chuckles and you roll your eyes. “Shut up. Can you just-“

Your words were cut by a breathy whimper as you feel two of your girlfriend’s fingers entering your pussy. You were so soaked that it was almost embarrassing how easily it went all in. Then, you understood why Shauna left your legs, she wanted to look at you. Her eyes were so intense on you that it could dig holes onto your skin if she wanted to. Instead, she was just enjoying you feeling her touches and wanted to memorize every second of it. As you squirmed under her, Shauna’s fingers began to slowly pump into you, in and out in a tortuous pace just to see you beg.

“Please…” You panted looking into her eyes. She smirks but the rhythm doesn’t change. She has to hear it. “Please what?” Just like expected, she insists on forcing you to say exactly what you want. On forcing you to submit completely and just enjoy her touch. And as usual, you obey it.

“Faster.” Your words are like an inaudible hiss or hush but urgent like oxygen. She nods subtly with a proud look in her face and gives in to your wish. A squelch sound began to echo around the room thanks to how fast Shauna was shoving her fingers inside of you and curling up at the right spot, making you squirm violently and scream almost immediately. You didn’t even care about being loud anymore. Not when Shauna Shipman was fucking you like that.

Your hips started to slowly move, grinding and following Shauna’s fingers pace inside of you. Your moans were getting louder as her movements were getting sloppier. You were both panting and sweating together and the look in your girlfriend’s eyes was almost hypnotic. “You like this?” She murmured and you nodded frantically, whimpering and gasping for air softly, rocking your hips and feeling your legs getting shaky and tense as Shauna was feeling your spongy walls squeezing her fingers tighter. Your breath was getting heavier as you were pathetically trying to ride her fingers, lifting your weight from the mattress to feel her going deeper even if just a little more. Shauna noticed your despair and gave you what you wanted by pumping firmly and fast but making sure to fill all of you. With her thumb, she started to rub your swollen clit in messy circles and you gripped her shoulders as you felt your orgasm building up quickly.

Your grip was so strong that Shauna felt your nails digging into her skin even though her shoulders were covered by one of her famous flannels and she lets out a painful groan but smiled as soon as she realized what was about to happen. “Are you going to cum for me, sweet girl?” She whispers and you can’t manage to answer. It was too intense, too overwhelming.

It took a few more thrusts before your back automatically arched and your fingers squeezed the fabric of your girlfriend’s clothes as you orgasm. You moan her name like a chant over and over again, rolling your eyes back and feeling your inner walls compressing against her fingers, pushing them away. Following your body’s orders, Shauna slowed the pace before she could gently pull her soaked fingers out of you and the act made you groan as you adjusted yourself to the empty feeling.

When you take a look back at your girlfriend, she has an alluring expression in her face. Dreamy eyes and halfway open lips just enough to help her breath. You smile tenderly as she kisses your forehead, trying to recover from the intense climax.

“I changed my mind. Maybe you should buy some new flannels for me. We need to try all of them.”

#yellowjackets #yellowjackets x reader #shauna shipman x reader #shauna shipman

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euphoricfilter · 10 months

Text

𝐒𝐞𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐀𝐧𝐱𝐢𝐞𝐭𝐲 | 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟏𝟔

attempt #1

tags/ warnings: games designer! jungkook || non-idol au || established relationship || fluff || small brain jk is making a reappearance he's just a little silly

word count: 1.1k

notes: no taglist!!!!!

☆ collaboration with @bonny-kookoo 💕 ☆

☆ series masterlist

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆.

“Y/n—baby” Jungkook almost slips over as he speeds into the living room, corner of the rug curled up just enough for him to trip over.

His eyes catch onto you, sprawled across the couch, movie running on the TV. Because as much as he planned to spend every moment with you on this trip, there was only so many times he could ignore the calls from his boss before he was toeing the line of losing his job.

You find it in yourself to pull your eyes away from the television, “Hmm?” you blink over at him, neck craned uncomfortably.

“I packed you a fancy dress, right?” he rushes, foot tapping against the floor.

You simply look at him for a moment, mind slowly whirring back to life as you recount what had been put in your suitcase before the both of you left. Vague memory of a nice outfit being folded beneath a pile of clothes.

“I think so…” you start, watching as Jungkook stalks across the living room.

His hands wrap around your arms, lifting you off the couch with ease, “We need to get dressed then” his hands linger over your warn skin a little longer, fingertips acting like magnet as he has to drag himself away from you.

“What?” you breathe, stumbling behind him as he slithers back into the bedroom.

He’s quick to unzip his suitcase, neatly folded clothes thrown onto the chair as he looks for something.

“What’s happening” you stand beside your own suitcase, entirely confused as to what was happening. It wasn’t exactly out of the ordinary for Jungkook to panic, mind always frazzled, and so you’ve taught yourself to figure out what exactly was going on inside his head before you chose to panic too.

“I booked a dinner at this restaurant—” he starts, throwing a suit onto the bed, “And I forgot It’s in less than an hour… and we’re not exactly dressed yet, and we need to drive there—”

“Jungkook” you call out his name.

He looks up at you with wide eyes, stray piece of underwear held in a tight fist as he swallows.

“Calm down” a gentle smile pulls onto your lips, “We have time. When’s the reservation?”

“6:30” he murmurs, shoulders losing that little bit of pent up tension.

“That’s enough time, okay?” you nod, “You can get ready before then, and so can I. You don’t need to panic”

“I know, it’s just—” he sighs, fingers tugging at his earrings, “I want this to be perfect. No, it needs to be perfect”

You step over your suitcase, crouching down beside him, “You’ve done a good job so far, so please stop stressing. It’s not good for you”

He presses his forehead against your shoulder, “I love you” he murmurs.

“Love you too” your fingers tangle into his hair, “Now get changed, or we really will be late”

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆.

“One picture, please baby” Jungkook whines as he pulls his bag from the back seat of the car.

“And what if we’re late?” you peer through the passenger side widow at the time of the dashboard, keys still running the car.

“It’ll only take a minute” the car door slamming shut echoes through the empty car park, “You look too pretty, I need to document this moment forever” he tells you, entirely serious as he looks at you from over the hood of the car.

You glance over at the restaurant on the other side of the street, then back over at Jungkook.

“One photo… maybe two but the second one has to be the both of us” you mumble, arms crossed over your chest.

He slips around the front of the car, fingers gentle as they skim down the length of your arms. He leans down, lips soft against your cheek as he whispers out his thanks, kiss lingering over your warm cheeks.

He thinks the dinner is perfect, entirely enamoured by everything you say as you talk over dinner. Warm unfiltered, raw, perfect love bubbling within his heart, so fully of you, loving you, wanting to worship the ground you walked on.

There’s something entirely magical about the moment in Jungkook’s mind, candle on the table reflected like starlight in your eyes, restaurant mellow enough that it felt like it was only the both of you there. The world yours just for this moment, even if only a couple of hours. He’s happy as he watches you eat, cheeks aching from smiling at you so much though it’s the good kind of ache that reminds him of why he wants to spend the rest of his life with you.

“Let’s share dessert” you say as you look at the menu, “Or should we get one each and share both of them?” you run a finger over your bottom lip.

Jungkook’s eyes linger over your face, words barely registering in his mind before he’s telling you to order whatever you want.

“You’re not helping, Jungkook” you lay the menu flat on the table, “What do you want?”

“Whatever you want, baby” he pulls his chair a little closer to the table, wanting to be that little bit closer to you.

You narrow your eyes at him, “I want whatever you want”

“Liar” he chirps, “because I know for a fact there’s shit on that menu you wouldn’t even dream of eating, even if it is dessert”

“Touché” you pull the menu closer to you, “I want something you’ll like too”

“I like everything you like” he tells you.

“That’s not true”

He hums, “Name one thing you like that I don’t”

You pause for a moment, head tilting to look up at him, “What about…” you start, leaning back in your chair.

He opens his mouth, smug little smile on his face.

You stop him, “There definitely is something. Just give me time to think of it”

He laughs, head tipping back a little.

“While you think of that… and order dessert, I’m going to the bathroom” he pushes his chair back, leaning over the table to give you a gentle kiss before he’s slipping around tables towards the toilets, bag tucked under his arm.

And only once in the bathroom does he realise a flaw in his plan. He rummages through his bag, frantic as he sits on the toilet seat, feet tapping against the floor as he pulls everything out of his bag.

“Shit” he whispers.

He’d planned it out perfectly, ready to have the little velvety box tucked away in the pocket of his suit, ready to be yours as you walked along the beach. Secluded from the rest of the world because he knows not to ask you to be his in front of a crowd.

He feels the panic settle beneath his skin, contents of his bag emptied over his lap, velvet box nowhere to be seen. Likely still tucked away between his clothes where you wouldn’t be able to stumble across it.

He holds his head in his hands, a long drawn curse falling past his lips.

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your-local-uwu-artist · 19 days

Text

it was suggested I post this to the tags as well >:D

fuck it ima tag @transcendence-au as well because tbh I'm very proud of my silly little animation

some me being a nerd under the cut!

okay so this all started when I read the original post this was inspired by and though 'wouldn't it be silly to add some art to this 3 year old post?' but then I decided to animate it for funsies!

and gosh I sure do love animating!

So I got the base sketch and then got into the lineart animation for each component!

i don't have the sketches/wips saved at all sense this wasn't really a project and it took less than a day to complete. but here's a peak at the timeline

I animate entirely in my ususal drawing software: clip studio paint. It's just what's easiest for me.

all of these layers outside that folder are just the sparkles! after I finished I added some sparkles for fun! there's a lot of them because it involved a lot of copy and pasting sparkle layers

the bottom folders here are the wings body and facial expression! for everything like the wings arms and flags I was able to just copy paste, reverse, and then align the timing correctly in the timeline

one thing unique about this animation is that the lineart and colors are in separate layers! I tend to do line and colors on the same layer but this time I was using a brush that doesn't have the same lack of anti-aliasing and sense it's a small animation I wasn't as worried about keeping a minimum of layers like usual.

also the movement of the body is only 4 frames! and one one of those is just the hat shifting position

initially I wasn't going to have the second facial expression but when I got stuck on animating the flags I added the second facial expression while taking a break.

the arm animation is just 8 frames! honestly the only tricky part in this is the flags, everything else was pretty simple, which made it super fun to work on because I got both a challenge and mindless therapeutic drawing out of it.

NOW THE FLAGS there was 3 throw away attempts before I got it: you see the thing that made this tricky is finding the balance between believability and visual appeal. a big part of animation is creating the illusion of physics, this is the 'believability' part, I need these to look like flags that are moving and made of flat fabric, HOWEVER if I animate these one-to-one with realistic physics: it won't look good! I can't apply wind to the whole drawing because then the hair would have to react, and wind goes one way, and I wan't the flags to be pointing opposite directions. so without wind the flags would be laying down flat, but that won't look good at all! and furthermore realistic physics would have the flag not being all nice and front facing most of the time. so the trick here was figuring out how much physics to apply to make it look believable, while still making it look good.

one trick I did to help me animate the flags is I actually made a plan rectangle flag as a guide so that the general mass/volume of the flag would stay consistent, this is something i highly recommend when animating! like having a circle guide along a characters head to keep their height and proportions consistent.

after I finally found the balance with the flag lineart coloring wasn't too hard! sense I just had to follow the lines, and THANK GOODNESS the trans and aroace flag have the same number of stripes: saving me time!

and then it all comes together to make a satisfying perfectly looping bundle of cuteness >:DDD I feel like the tau fandom doesn't have as many artists with particularly cartoony/chibi art styles so I've gotta play my part in spreading the joy-whimsy-adorable-sillys >:D

anyway! hope you get to see a cool beetle today :D

#kyukyudraws #animation #alcor the dreambender #tau #transcendence au #the transcendence au #gravity falls

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seosracha · 7 months

Text

-~ ୨୧ DAZED & IN LOVE < shen ricky smau >

FIVE. ⸻ kdrama era + 0.3k

"I actually watched your collab stage with Wonbin and Giselle. It was so cool" he smiled and took a sip of his iced coffee.

After eating ramyeon from the convenience store next to the Han River, which Ricky wasn't a fan of insisting he'd take you to a fancy five star restaurant, you both decided to take a stroll around Seoul.

"You don't even understand how hard I begged our managers to let us do it" you laughed, remembering how you quite literally begged on two knees to have a collab stage with your best-friends.

"You three are friends I'm guessing" he turned to you with a small smile.

He looked so gorgeous, you were sure in a minute or so you'd wake up all sweaty in your apartment bed. He just felt so unreal to be with.

"Yeah! I trained with Giselle, and Wonbin just appeared I guess. He's really annoying but I like to be around him anyways" you shrugged with a smile, and he just chuckled lightly in response "Do you want to know a secret?" you added quietly, making his eyes light up in curiosity.

He nodded quickly, moving seemingly closer to you just incase you were about to spill a dark secret right in the middle of the street.

"I voted for you on Boys Planet! All the way to the end! You were my number one pick" you said with a smile, and although not the juiciest secret out there, he still felt his heart start beating faster.

He enjoyed your confession more than he thought he would. Although many people have told him he was their number one pick on Boys Planet, it seemed that your words were far more special to him.

He looked away shyly, his initial confidence flying out the window, gaining a laugh from you as you just took his wrist and pulled him towards the photo booth ahead of you.

⸻ ricky is like an angel, you'd honestly look back twice to make sure you aren't dreaming when passing by him. so why can't he find a good partner?

IN WHICH! gyuvin can't look at his sad, and extremely single best-friend anymore so he asks his silly and slightly insane girlfriend emiko, to set up a date for ricky. he just prays he'll make it out normal.

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honeesucker · 1 year

Text

Four -

Pairing: ProHero!DynaMight | Katsuki Bakugo x Puppygirl!Reader

Word count: 4,749

Series Content Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Past Abuse & Trauma Response | Profuse Usage of Pet Names / All-around Softness | Bakugo Experienced Work-Related Trauma (causing near deafness, being put on leave from the agency, PTSD) | Eventual smut™ (will be tagged in individual chapters - to include but not limited to KiriBaku, HybridxHybrid, Hybrid heat trope, sex toy usage).

Chapter Content Warnings: depictions of hybrid fights / reader being used as a bait hybrid in a fight | Noncon (brief detail, mention of knotting - hybridxhybrid) | mentions of spit, blood.

*Not proofread.

Previous | Next

You had finally calmed down from your anxiety attack, the tears long gone but the gentle hiccups that resulted from a hard cry were still jolting your body as you tried to take in steadier breaths. Bakugo was sitting with his eyes closed, breaths coming in a steady rhythm but his hand against your back, fingers rubbing small, gentle circles let you know he was still awake. You couldn’t quantify how much time had passed since the whole incident started, the ache from the release of the rubber bands where burning rings of skin was left told you it’d been long enough for your body to catch up with itself.

You were exhausted.

You huffed out a quick breath of air, and fell forward on Bakugo’s chest, resting on your chin to look up at him and nose at his throat again. Bakugo cracked one eye open with a quirk of his brow and looked down at you.

“What’cha think you’re snoofin’ at, Pup?” Bakugo grumbled with no malice in his tone.

“Ah-!” His sudden awareness of you startled you, a sheepish smile appearing on your face. “Y-you smell good, wanted to smell it again.”

“Mm, still smell Red and TetsuTetsu on me, hm?” Bakugo mused.

“No,” when you shook your head, still resting against him, your cold nose dragged against his skin, and it sent a shudder through his body. “S’different than them, something better.”

Unnoticed by everyone else, but Bakugo could feel the tips of his ears and the back of his neck heat up at your revelation that it was purely him that you were finding pleasant. Bakugo shifted in the seat, legs and ass sore from sitting for so long in one position, and you bounced up on him as he did so – a tiny yelp-like giggle escaping you which he broke a crooked, fanged grin at you. Your guys’ time together finally being interrupted by someone behind you clearing their throat. You whipped your head back, nearly upside down which caused your newly-floppy ears to stand up straight due to the backward angle of your head – this caused everyone to smile at the silly display.

“Puppy,” the Director had come forward, just shy of a foot away from the pair as she smiled fondly down at you, letting your head rest in her hands as she raised them to cradle your head, her eyes darting up to meet Bakugo’s quickly as he simply nodded. “I think it's time for us to let Mr. Bakugo go home for today, and we need to get you to the facility Doctor to check on your ears – they have to be hurting you, yes?”

“Mmm... yes, but-” you shifted your eyes, looking back at Bakugo with a conflicted expression. “You don’t want to stay longer?”

“’Course I do, Pup,” Bakugo said, reaching up to gently pat your cheek. “But it’s been a long day for everyone, and I think getting some rest would be good for us, too, don’t you think?” You just nodded with a sigh, and let Bakugo lift you up in his arms, carrying you like a toddler with your arms around his neck as he followed the Director into a different building in the facility where one of the many highly trained hybrid doctors would be able to check you over. Bakugo noted the way your ears seemed to flatten a little further against your head as he said a quick goodbye, telling you he’d see you again soon and left the room. Hana had excused herself to walk Bakugo out, the Director giving her a nod as she followed the blonde Pro. The Director finally turned to you, sitting with legs swinging atop an exam bed awaiting a doctor to come and see you.

“Puppy?” The Director asked, and your response was a small hum as you glanced up at her, shoulders drooped and demeanor a bit more down. “You like Mr. Bakugo, don’t you?” The Director had her answer in the way your cheeks tinged pink and your ears and whole body seemed to perk up at the idea, fluffy tail swishing behind you as it lazily thumped in time with your thoughts.

“I do,” you finally said out loud, not looking up to meet her gaze.

“Would you ever want to be adopted out again?” She pressed further and you drooped again, clearly thinking hard about the implication of what that meant for you. “Would you want Mr. Bakugo to adopt you?” Your eyes widened but you didn’t say anything, didn’t move but you were soon betrayed again by your fluffy cloud of a tail, thumping wildly behind you at the idea.

“H-he wouldn’t want to adopt me,” you finally sighed, tail still technically wagging but clearly dejected. “I caused so much trouble, and I bit him-” you were startled as the Director cut you off.

“Puppy, what if I told you he had already put in an application for you?” You froze.

“For me?” You whispered, more to yourself. “He did?” Your mind began running through so many different scenarios – the most prevalent thought being why Bakugo would ever want a hybrid like you. You didn’t feel like you could offer him anything, felt like trouble only followed you wherever you went, and bringing it to Bakugo’s doorstep wasn’t something you wanted to do.

“What’s holding you back, Puppy?” The Director’s calm voice brought you out of the string of incessant, negative thoughts and you glanced up at her while nibbling down on your bottom lip.

“What if he decides I’m not good enough and sends me back?” Your voice was so tiny it was almost imperceptible.

“Puppy,” the Director had kneeled in front of you, meeting your pouty expression with a kind smile as she took your hands in her own. “Mr. Bakugo has been taking all the classes, and learning about you, and has come to the same decision over and over again – that he still wants to adopt you. I think he’s really hoping you’d consider it, too... there’s also a good support system in place with him, too, since you’d be able to see Mr. Kirishima and TetsuTetsu as well,” she finished, watching as your tail picked up at the mention of your silver-haired friend.

“Who’s Mr. Kirishima?” You finally asked, and the Director simply chuckled.

“Tall, red hair, he brought TetsuTetsu to visit a while back – do you remember?” Your eyes lit up as you nodded vigorously.

“Red! M’sorry I didn’t know the other name,” your sheepish grin was a welcome sight as the Director patted your shoulder. It wasn’t much of a wait after you finished speaking with the Director that one of the hybrid doctors – Dr. Sato – entered the room and began to examine your ears. He was careful with his handling of the newly exposed areas, dictating his findings to the Director as she sat in the far corner of the exam room. Dr. Sato took his time cleaning the area, stating that he wasn’t certain your fur would grow back, but the area that was nearly necrotic, and was caught just in time to be treated and you wouldn’t have to have any surgery to your ears which you were grateful for – slumping a little at the realization of what could’ve happened in you continuing to avoid your real ears. Dr. Sato prescribed some antibiotics to help with the minimal infection around the area and gave you a cream to spread on the hairless ring at the base of your ears to help with accelerating the healing of the area. You nodded along, promising to follow the treatment plan, and the Director chimed in that she would help in reminding you about taking the medication and doing your daily cleanings.

Dr. Sato and the Director both had continued having a conversation, while you were waiting to be released, your mind swimming with the fantasy of being adopted again.

Being adopted by Him.

Something about Bakugo drew you in, even with his terrifying stature and harsh demeanor; something about the blonde man simply made you feel the safest you had ever felt in your life that you could remember. He was friends with your friend, and his owner. He didn’t hurt you when you bit him, didn’t get angry or yell or throw you off. You caught the tail-end of the conversation between Dr. Sato and the Director, and as she was leaving the room to follow the Doctor with the expectation you would follow as well, you spoke up.

“I do,” the Director stopped at your sudden words. “I want to be adopted,” your body felt electrified with the uncertain future, but you knew at the very least you’d be around people you felt the safest with. “By him,” you clarified, “I’d like to accept his application.”

The Director took in your apprehensive demeanor, noting that it didn’t seem you were truly afraid of being adopted by Bakugo, just appeared to be nervous in general which she didn’t blame you for given your history. The smile spread across her face as she held out a hand for you to take, and you did as you jumped down from the exam table.

She was excited to make the call – her only dilemma was wondering if she should wait for morning to give the explosive hero the good news.

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

Bakugo had finally arrived home, the events of the day and the high emotions left a heavy weight tied to his ankles, dragging him, and to his heart; his body on autopilot as he took off his gear from the day, leaving them scattered across the table and floor of his genkan – he stripped down to his pants and the black tank worn underneath his hero costume as he slipped into his slippers and shuffled to his bathroom. His mind was running a mile a minute, going over the day's events as he tried hard to fight off the exhaustion he was suddenly hit with. While Bakugo was always vigilant and expecting something to happen given his understanding of the world, he truly didn’t anticipate encountering a scumbag extra like the piece of trash who thought he could even come close to touching you today. Bakugo wanted to blast that son of a bitch sky high and then some, but when the officers had come for the man, and he noticed you, he simply couldn’t bring himself to fight when it looked like you needed him more.

Bakugo swallowed hard. His heart thumping wildly in his chest as he remembered how light you felt in his arms, how soft and warm you were against him – how easy it felt holding you and toting you around. His mind then switched to how terrified you looked when that rubber band snapped, how your instincts overrode everything else when you bit down to get out of his arms. Bakugo couldn’t help but wonder just what memory was triggered when that rubber band broke, when he held you tighter and you fought with an admirable strength to escape – wondering what you had to fight to escape in the past. He swallowed the hard lump that formed in his throat and just shook off the heavy feelings. He showered, he drank nighttime tea and quickly downed a spicy instant noodle just to have something in him before he dropped down into bed and closed his eyes. It wasn’t long before Bakugo’s thoughts stilled, and he finally fell asleep.

Bakugo awoke in a place he had never been before, or rather, it felt vaguely familiar, but he couldn’t place his finger on it. He sat up, propping himself up on his elbows on an uncovered mattress, filthy and creaky, with a spring jutting out into his forearm as he put pressure there. His face contorted in a disgusting scowl as he looked around the vaguely familiar room, the piles of trash and various half-broken boxes revealing equally trashy contents. Bakugo stood up, kicking around the room before settling himself by a dresser near the door, thumbing through the scattered papers with half-written nonsensical sentences in chicken scratch handwriting.

He couldn’t explain how, or why, but he knew he had to be somewhere important. Someone was waiting for him, and his feet took him down a dingy hallway, and out into the dusty expanse of a rundown warehouse yard. He could hear a hushed road of shouting, cheering and curses in the adjacent building and he walked over, treading carefully, not knowing who he would encounter there. When he pushed open the heavy metal door where the sound was coming from he was met with cheers and wide, yellow-toothed smiles and some missing more than half of their teeth before he was patted on the shoulder and led closer to the center of the warehouse where men and women of various scummy degrees were shouting and waving tickets, cursing at each other and drinking as their eyes all stayed toward the center.

“Thought you wouldn’t make it, man!” The man leading Bakugo shouted over the rest of the noise around them. “Fight’s already been set up, but you haven’t missed much, just the intros, bro, time to take your seat center stage man!” Bakugo just followed along as the grimy extra kept a grip on his bicep, leading him toward the center of the large room. Between the smell of smoke and liquor, body odor and dust Bakugo wanted to puke but he let himself get absorbed into the atmosphere, waiting to see what waited for him as he was led to a bench at the top center above an in-ground pit where Bakugo could see two incredibly large wolf hybrids chained up, just enough slack in the metal to allow the brutes to get attacks in on each other. What froze Bakugo’s blood the second he heard it, and then saw it, was the scared yip! As one of the hybrids decided to take his attention away from the hybrid opposite him and snap hungrily at a tiny hybrid chained to the wall.

It was you – his little Puppy.

Bakugo watched in rapt horror as the wolf hybrid caught your tail and bit down, a fresh, wet matting of blood ruining the soft look of your fur. Floppy little ears were pressed back against your head, nearly flat, as Bakugo took notice of the flood of tears welling up in your eyes and spilling over your cheeks. Bakugo wanted to shoot up, to jump down into the pit and knock out the two hybrids just to get to you – to tell you everything would be okay, that you’re safe with him. Bakugo soon learned, however, that his part in this play was one of control – being in control of this whole situation, being the one who put you in the pit.

The people around him cheered on as the wolf hybrids took turns attacking each other to near-death before turning their aggression on you, only barely being able to reach you just enough to mark you and get a taste of blood.

The fight was called not long after, Bakugo watching at a limp wolf hybrid was pulled away by a downcast man, apparently having lost the fight. The winning hybrid was in no better shape but could be led away by his chain with no additional support. You were shaking on the ground as the man who led Bakugo into this horror show earlier picked you up and threw you out of the pit, walking over to your collapsed form to grab the chain around your neck and drag you behind him with no care if you could keep up or were even capable of walking. Bakugo shot up after him, trying to get him to let you go but he just gave a dry laugh, saying you had to go be seen by the Boss.

The Boss – the mention of the name caused you to shrink further in on yourself, and Bakugo wasn’t sure how that was even possible with how small you already were making yourself. You were led back into the house where Bakugo had come from, being pulled toward a room he didn’t see earlier until you were thrown to the ground in front of a man dressed in all black. Slick black hair and even colder, lifeless black eyes regarded you and tsk’d as he lent down and tugged on one of your floppy little ears until you screamed.

“Didn’t I tell you to get this shit taken care of?” The man scowled, spitting in your face as you flinched away from him. “Floppy fuckin’ mutt ears, what kind of prize are you to offer up if you look like a piece of mixed breed trash, hah?” The man kicked forward, knocking you down onto your face where you stayed, too afraid to get up. Bakugo had been led to a couch just two feet away from this scene, where he watched the man from earlier strip you of the worn little dress you were covered by, hands immediately fighting for the fabric as you clawed at the man trying to take your cover away. You received a swift boot to the back of the head by the man who Bakugo recognized from earlier: the owner of the winning hybrid. Wondering what was going on for only a second longer before it all clicked – what the Boss had said, how he said it, why you were being stripped... Bakugo’s stomach turned as he watched the victor lead his wolf hybrid forward, the large brute leaning forward to sniff and lap at your exposed body before you were mounted. Bakugo found that the only movement he was capable of (that was his own in this dream body) was a tight grip of his hands. He could almost feel his palms heating up to explode as the grotesque scene in front of him unfolded, sparks burning into his fingers as they curled into his palms. Bakugo could nearly force the explosion he so desperately wanted to set off as he heard your crying turn to screams, his eyes deadly at the sight of the knot bullying its way into your body.

Bakugo awoke in a cold sweat to the sound of his phone vibrating on his bedside table. Sitting up as he coughed and choked on nothing, the recollection of his dream burned into his mind's eye as he tried to shake the residual hopelessness he felt at seeing you like that, and not being able to help you. He grabbed at his phone, not even glancing at the Caller ID screen before answering the call with a low growl of a ‘Wha’dya want?’ before the familiar voice instantly set him on high alert.

“Is everything okay? Did something happen? I can be back down there in an-” Bakugo was cut off by the Director’s quick apology, and explanation.

“No, Mr. Bakugo everything is alright, I’m so sorry to call so late. It sounds like I disturbed your rest,” her tone was truly apologetic, and Bakugo had grown quite fond of the woman over the last few weeks, unable to hold onto his anger. “I wanted to relay some news to you and felt it couldn’t wait until morning.” This had Bakugo sitting straight up in bed, his heart pounding wildly in his chest as the edges of his vision blurred, the panic already taking a hooked hold in his chest.

“I’m listening,” is all he could manage out with his normal tone of voice.

Did you decide to reject his adoption application?

Did something happen when she took you to see the hybrid doctor? Was everything alright?

“I wanted to extend my sincerest congratulations,” she finally said and Bakugo’s whole body froze. “I had a talk with our little Puppy, and she has accepted your application for her adoption. We can have arrangements made for you to bring her home by tomorrow if that’s suitable for you?”

You said yes.

You said yes?

YOU SAID YES!

Bakugo’s whole body buzzed with relief, excitement and anticipation. He couldn’t hide the stupid grin he felt taking over his face as his right leg jumped anxiously hearing what the Director had to say about the process of scheduling a pickup.

“Yes,” Bakugo finally agreed, “I can be there first thing in the morning.”

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

Morning couldn’t come soon enough for Bakugo, rushing through his shower, throwing on an outfit of all-black casual clothes... rushing out the door to meet Kirishima who offered to drive him again instead of letting him take a paid service, or use the agency provided drivers he knew Bakugo disliked.

“Good morning, Bakugo, ready to go?” Kirishima’s bright voice greeted the rough blonde as all he got in return was a deep grunt... or a growl? but was met with a content sigh as Kirishima held up a coffee he picked up for Bakugo on the way. The exhausted blonde inhaling a deep breath of the coffee steam before tipping the cup for a drink.

“Thanks,” Bakugo muttered, sipping the hot liquid as he put his seatbelt on and sank back into the seat.

“Are you excited, bro?” Kirishima asked, peeking at Bakugo from his peripheral, to see Bakugo’s body go rigid as he looked out the window.

“M’nervous,” he finally said after a momentary pause, on bad days I can barely take care of myself... hell there was that month you had to come and stay with me just so I’d eat and shower... what if I fail at taking care of her when she needs me the most? It’s not just my rehabilitation, it’s hers too...”

“Hey man, don’t worry too much about it,” Kirishima’s voice still held his normal joyful tone, but the underlying was he spoke was deep, and comforting to Bakugo. “I think you’ll be better at taking care of someone else than you are yourself, and she’ll help to remind you of how important it is to take care of yourself - because if you’re not feeling good enough, you can’t do good by her... and you know you always have me to ask for help, too, I’ll always be there for you Kats...” Bakugo just nodded, holding back a strangled sob in his throat as he continued to face out the window, afraid that if he saw the loving, understanding look on Kirishima’s face he’d just burst into tears.

The drive was quiet except for the music Kirishima was playing at a low volume, the sounds of the comfortable silence mixed with the occasional stuttered sip of hot coffee had the moment feeling perfectly... regular. It calmed Bakugo down to have his friend here with him, although the closer they got to the facility, as the large building came into view on the horizon, Bakugo felt a rush of acidic bile rise in his throat with his nerves. This was it. This was really happening!

Kirishima had pulled up and around the circular driveway and parked in front of the building... Bakugo was frozen in his seat as his eyes were glued off in the distance to something other than where he was, his head visibly out of the moment.

“You good, Kats?” Kirishima’s voice was a soft, reassuring tone, gentle but firm as his hand reached over and patted Bakugo’s thigh, before his large hand wrapped around the muscled thigh and squeezed. The action brought Bakugo back and he glanced down at the hand on his thigh and then up Kirishima’s arm to his kind, friendly face.

“Yeah, m’good just...” *Bakugo shuddered a little, this vulnerability making him a little queasy. “Nervous, is all... more than I thought I’d be.” Kirishima couldn’t help the way his toothy grin widened even more at Bakugo’s admission, and gave him a pat on the shoulder.

“Don’t sweat it, Kats,” Kirishima reassured the blonde. “She chose you, too, and there’s a whole system in place to support you guys... everything will be fine.” Bakugo just nodded, hesitating for a moment more before downing the rest of his coffee and finally steeling his nerves enough to walk in.

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

“Mr. Bakugo, welcome in!” A new desk worker greeted Bakugo, one he had met briefly at the recent community day, his smile bright and friendly.

“I’m here to see the Director...” Bakugo’s normally brash and aggressive voice was closer to a meek whisper, though his baritone always carried a strength to it.

The staff member continued to smile kindly, making a quick call as he motioned down the hallway, hanging up. “The Director is expecting you; did you need an escort to her office?” Bakugo just shook his head, already heading the now familiar route to the Director’s office as the pit of anxiety in the bottom of his stomach expanded and threatened to swallow him whole. Once he reached the familiar door, he knocked softly and was greeted with a soft ‘Come in!’ and upon opening was met with the sight of the Director, and you... you who looked so small and happy with your newly floppy ears tilting cutely as you leaned back and looked up at Bakugo.

“Mr. Bakugo, welcome back... we were just going over our little Puppy’s ear care, please, sit,” the Director said with a friendly tone, motioning for him to sit in the chair beside you. You, who despite looking away from Bakugo with a slightly nervous expression now, still wagged the fluffy little cloud of a tail behind you, unable to hide your emotions. “Now, she must apply this antibiotic cream morning and night to the areas affected where the rubber bands were, and she also has a pill she needs to take to ensure no spread of any internal viruses, right, Puppy?”

You only nodded, biting your lower lip as you looked down at your folded hands, fidgeting with them in your lap. “Yes, rub on ears and take the pill...” you said softly, nodding to yourself.

“Good girl,” the Director praised, and then turned to Bakugo, but not before adding. “Puppy why don’t you go and get all your stuff together and make sure you’re not forgetting anything? We’ll come meet you shortly, okay?” You nodded, hopping down from the chair and padding out of the room softly as you closed the door behind you... The Director now turning to Bakugo. “Before we finalize everything, are there any concerns you have at this moment?”

Bakugo thought for a moment, good and hard before shaking his head. “No, I think we’ve covered everything up until this point, and I feel pretty supported by you... and Kirishima has offered to help me adjust as well.” The Director nodded, a genuine smile on her face.

“I, as well as my staff are here to be a resource for you, Bakugo, and we will keep in touch via email, and I am only a phone call away... I’m happy you have a friend supporting you as well, it will make the transition easy knowing someone who has been through the same thing.”

“I appreciate all of your help, and all of the courses you provided too,” Bakugo admitted with a soft look on his face. “I feel better prepared now, even if I still feel like I’m out of my element here...” The Director gave Bakugo a soft look before standing up and motioning him to follow.

“Let’s go get our little Puppy, shall we?” She said gently, leading Bakugo down a new hallway he hadn’t yet been to, to finally land in front of a white door. The Director knocked and then slowly cracked the door, peeking inside as she smiled, calling your name. “Are you all packed up, Puppy?” She said softly, opening the door and Bakugo’s heart almost melted at the sight of you sitting on your bed with one little bag beside you on the floor, your legs swinging on the overhang of the bed as you glanced up, a small, nervous smile on your face as you nodded. Bakugo watched you jump down, grabbing the bag and walking forward, opting to take his hand as you smiled up at him.

Bakugo almost fainted from the varying emotions in his body: fear, anxiety, happiness, love, a little cuteness aggression.... when you held his hand, looking up at him with a smile when you said... “Ready!”

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