#maybe it's time to trim my nails as short as possible again.

[robinsnest2111]

tfw you only realise your arms are sliced to hell and back in the middle of your work shift because of an uncomfortable itchy-tingling sensation.

where did all these worryingly deep angry-red scratches/cuts come from?????

[absurdthirst]

Kinktober 2024: October 19th

Day 19: Suspension // Fisting // Mirror Sex

Frankie Morales x F!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 1k

Warnings: Fisting, fingering, lubrication, sexual exploration, sexual safety, use of color system

|| Kinktober List || MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

“You’re doing so good, baby.” He coos, licking his lips as he pushes his hand forward just a little more. Pushing until you whine and then he lets up, pulling back the four fingers that are currently buried as far as he can get them inside your cunt. “You can take it. You’re gonna take it.” 

It’s hot and annoying at the same time. That smug confidence in his tone, low and sexy as he growls out praise and encouragement. Making your hips roll down on their own even though you need a small break. Maybe some more lube. 

“Fuck, you have a big goddamn hand, Morales.” You grumble, throwing your head back against the soft pillow behind your head and try to slow down the rapid beating of your heart. The ache of your cunt isn’t nearly as bad as it can be when Frankie gets rough and fucks you within an inch of your life, but it’s close. 

He hums, tone amused and he crooks the edges of the two fingers still inside you and makes you whine again. “You’re the one that wanted to do this, baby.” He reminds you, like you didn’t have to completely talk him into this. 

“I know.” You huff, biting your lip and clenching down around his fingers before you feel him start to add more of the water based KY to his hand, especially around that damn thumb of his. “It sounded sexy in my book and your hands are always so good.” 

It had started with one of those BookTok books you had been obsessed with. Venturing over into your day dreams while you had watched Frankie under the kitchen sink while he replaced the garbage disposal. You had damn near made him knock himself out when you had blurted out that you wanted him to fist you. 

Now, here you are, wondering why the hell you had decided this man’s fist would feel good inside you. Although the small sting is worth the way your cunt gushes. Your core burns at the mere thought of having him completely inside you. 

He had trimmed his nails short, making sure that nothing could possibly hurt you. Making sure that he had every single tube of lube that you owned in the house right here, within reach. The towel underneath you will absorb most of the excess and your slick as it manages to pour out of you. 

“Do you want to stop?” Frankie pulls his fingers completely out and holds them up, pulling the fingers apart. Your juices web between them, stretching out like thing strings between the digits and the sight of it makes you moan. 

“Fuck,” you huff, shaking your head. “No, no baby, I need more.” You know that Frankie isn’t getting anything out of this physically right now, but he shoots you a proud grin, slipping two of his wet fingers into his mouth and groaning in approval. 

The process starts all over again. Two fingers, then three. Having to pull his fingers nearly out of you so he can press his thick pinkie into that same space as well. Watching you with dark, expressive eyes while he twists his wrist and pumps those fingers deep into your tight walls. 

He’s into it. You can tell that from the way his cock hangs heavy, precum dribbling off the head and smearing against your thigh when he shifts to change the angle and press just a little deeper. 

“FUCK!” You gasp out, feeling that sharp sting of pain when he twists his wrist, trying to ease it inside you so that his entire fist will push in. 

“Color.” The word comes out automatically, Frankie almost pausing, but he watches you closely. 

“Green, fuck- it’s almost there.” You whine, toes curling and despite the pain, it feels really good too. It’s a paradox and you now understand really what they mean by ‘hurts so good’. You don’t want him to stop, your fingers twist in the sheets and pull at them while your hips tilt down. Adding more pressure to the action. “So fucking green.” 

He grunts in approval, shuffling closer again. “Almost there, baby, fuck, your pretty pussy is squeezing my hand like a fucking vice.” He growls, biting his lip as he imagines how this would feel around a cock. “Maybe we should have the guys over.” 

It’s not like you haven’t talked about all kinds of crazy shit over the years, including letting his former Delta team all come and stuff you full like a Thanksgiving Turkey. It’s all been just talk, you would never do it, but your walls clench around him again and another hot gush of your juices coats his hand at the hot thought. 

He smirks, twisting his hand just slightly and with a tiny sucking sound, his hand pops past the resistance of your pelvic bones and slides inside you. 

“Oh my fucking godddddddd.” Your moan matches Frankie’s, although his own is completely wordless. His fucking fist is inside you. You can feel his wrist against your lips and it’s more erotic than you had fucking imagined. He pushes a little deeper and you whine breathlessly. 

You enjoy this. That alone makes Frankie smirk and he shifts close, leaning down and changing the angle of his hand inside you to see if you like that as well. “Well now you’re my personal little puppet.” He teases against your lips, making a laugh puff out of you that is followed up by another moan. “Let’s see how hard you cum like this.” 

“Fuck- fuck, I love you.” You pant, feeling him start to move ever so slightly inside you, not trying to do too much right now, just seeing what has you gasping and clenching around his fist. 

“I love you too.” He promises, kissing you again and leaning back to watch as he plays with your body. You had asked him to fist you, now both of you know that he can. It’s time to discover how much fun the two of you can have with this now. 

[kedreeva]

This might be an odd thing to ask but my friend just had to do their first cull (quail) and is feeling a little freaked out by it still. Do you maybe have any advice for like, coping with that?

I'll put this under a cut, since it involves animal death

I guess it depends on what they are freaking out about, the physical sensation of any part of it (for instance, if they did a butcher job to use the meat, instead of a euthanasia job for burial or something) or the empathy part of it (taking a life personally).

If it's the former, rub your (general you) hands on some kind of rough surface (like a bristle brush/dish scrub brush), trim your nails short, and take a long, hot shower, and light a smelly candle. It won't particularly stop you from thinking about it, but it will make sure that the actual physical stimuli that remind you (ghost sensations on nerves, any remaining scent of blood or offal or dander, sound) get pushed back in memory behind the new sensations and/or removed.

The empathy part is harder, and there's just not a lot you (again, general you) can do about it, and I think that's okay, actually. It SHOULD freak you out the first time you take a life, and it should freak you out a little every time after that, because it gives weight to this action that this action wholly deserves. You are ending a life that you were responsible for starting, and that's heavy and deserves respect. This is the reality of breeding and raising animals for use, and at the end of the day, your friend will have to sit with that, and decide if they're okay with it if they want to keep doing it. There's no shortcut in this matter.

Some of the things I do made it easier to come to terms with for me. The first is to do my best to produce animals that WILL have a use (as opposed to producing just to produce and not having a plan for what to do with them), and the second is to use as much of what you produce as possible. For me, this means either selling the birds to others for use, or using the meat/bones myself and giving the rest back to nature (usually my crows come and eat offal the same day I do butchering). I find it easier to handle if I set the expectation from the start that a bird will be a use animal not a pet animal (ie, food or eggs or whatever that I intend to invest time and care into, compared to a companion I would emotionally invest in as well)- being able to compartmentalize this distinction is essential, and there are also going to be times when you have to make the sucky decision to end an animal you got emotionally invested in anyway (illness, injury, old age, behavioral changes, etc) because you're human and that's what we often do. I'm also more comfortable culling if I know the animal will have/has had a quality life (both because the meat will be better and because they deserve it). Lastly, it helps to remind myself that I produce some animals for a purpose and when I cull they are either fulfilling that purpose (used by me/others) or they are incapable of fulfilling that purpose (free to go to others/rest). Keeping them longer than that is, imo, a disservice to them.

I'm sorry there's not an easy fix-it. I hope that your friend is able to recover and keep raising quail, if they enjoy the rest of it.

[griefabyss69]

Ample Fire Within

Hello everybody I hurt my feelings about Steve and so I've decided to inflict that on all of you as well <3

[AO3] [ Tip / Commissions post ]

Platonic Stobin - Rated: G - 1.7K

Angst with a happy ending It's short enough the full thing is under the cut!

"For all of the late night wishing on a star type of bullshit he does, when he's alone in the dark and doesn't even have to properly face himself, let alone anyone else, you'd think he'd be able to handle it when he finally gets what he wants."

You'd think that all of the near-death experiences and injuries and horrible secret knowledge they’d all had would make a group of people like, forthcoming about their feelings.

But when most of those people are hiding deeply under too many layers of irony, insecurity, and maybe an affected teenage distance, feelings come out in stupid little arguments and the decision to be as annoying as possible instead of like.

Talking about it.

The affection is just like that too – drenched in demands - and just like anything, Steve has to assume that being asked for shit means that someone somewhere cares about him.

If they need him, that means they'll think about him, remember him.

It means they won't leave and won't spit his feelings back in his face, drunk off of either expensive wine or spiked punch – he's since forgiven Nancy, and they're good friends, though she could never love him.

Forgiving his mom is something he thinks he'll get around to one day, if she ever gets around to deciding he exists again.

His dad is a lost cause, so he doesn't bother.

---

Robin's hand is tight around his, her nail polish alternating between a shimmery blue and a stark black. It works on her, makes her look cool in the way only she can be.

He studies the difference in their fingers, his nails are neatly trimmed out of habit, though the skin around them peels like he hasn't been taking care of the skin. Hers are doing pretty well, considering she's once again trying to fully kick the habit of biting them.

Despite how much smaller her hands are, he feels like the one who's protected, a bracing grip that keeps him grounded as some of his neighbors head out of the store, the sour feeling of being degraded by nothing but polite conversation about where he might go to school next year and “What are your parents up to these days?” sitting heavy in his guts.

"You want to pick the movie?" Robin asks, adding her other hand into the mix, squeezing his tightly.

He shakes his head, can't stomach the thought of having an opinion on anything right now, on being some kind of real boy who has to make a decision harder than breathe in – good – now breathe out.

She lets go of him to go wander around the shelves, and he misses the comfort deeply, but doesn't say anything about it because he needs to find a way to earn the next one, this one finished with it’s job even if it’s prematurely. He’ll find the next emotional punch he can take and will hope it makes someone notice he could use a hug or something.

He wants to think he's got people in his life now that notice him at least some of the time, really notice him, not like before when he'd sat concussed through his exams and managed to pass because the teachers didn't want to face down the wrath of Harrington Sr.

He tries not to mope, tries to shake everything off, and goes to poke fun at Robin for whatever movie she picked.

---

For all of the late night wishing on a star type of bullshit he does, when he's alone in the dark and doesn't even have to properly face himself, let alone anyone else, you'd think he'd be able to handle it when he finally gets what he wants.

But maybe it's the unexpected timing, or just the way he didn't think they'd ever be those people – but when Robin hugs him goodbye one night, the last one out of the house as Nancy waits up outside to take her home, she murmurs a quiet "Love you" into his shoulder and he only manages to hold himself together by a fucking hair until the door is shut behind her.

He wouldn’t have ever imagined that it would make him crumple to the floor beside the neat rack of shoes he never wears, but he finds himself flat on his ass with his forehead on his knees like someone's packing him away in a box.

Ugly tears already brimming and spilling down his face as his throat closes up around what might just be a banshee's wail.

He knows he's supposed to be happy, and he knows there's a part of him that is, but the rest of him is just hurt – there’s an empty hole that had dug through him until it had grown into a deep well of loneliness, and every little offering of care and attention and love drowns in it.

About thirty minutes and a big pounding headache later, his phone rings, and his voice is rough when he picks up.

"Steve," Robin gasps, out of breath like she'd run to the phone. "What's wrong?"

He frowns, wondering if he sounds that bad.

"Nothing, why?"

"Oh, you just sound… And I'd thought – I just had a feeling in the car and then it got worse and I got worried and I'm sorry I'm sure you're so ready to go get your beauty sleep and I know we'll see each other at work tomorrow – but you sound terrible, Steve. Are you really okay?"

Robin's voice is as soothing as much as it picks at him, all the little threads he'd found on the floor to put himself back together get snatched back up by her soulmate premonition feelings or whatever, and he feels his sore eyes start to sting again.

"Rob, everything's fine," he says, heading to the sink, stretching the phone cord so he can get a cold glass of water. "Just took a little nap."

"Oh, that's good," She sighs, clearly relieved. "I guess… I'll let you go?"

Steve's heart feels full of something that aches, but maybe it's not really in a bad way. He can't tell right now, but he blinks and blinks and blinks until his eyes aren't threatening to un-convince Robin of his fine-ness.

"Yeah, I'll see you in the morning," he says, and pauses, digging his toes into the tile floor to brace himself. "Have good dreams, love you."

Robin's voice is warm and thready when she replies, the phone doing a bad job of replicating it but he can still imagine she's speaking into his shoulder again.

"Love you too, goodnight Steve."

---

He does more crying in the shower, though this time it’s more of a relieved thing.

The little worry in the background of his mind that Robin had said it accidentally earlier is gone – and the larger worry in the front of his mind that he'd somehow ruin their friendship by saying the same thing back at her is gone too.

He's almost excited to get to work tomorrow, though his self esteem hasn't been doing all that great lately, with summer vacation and everyone he went to high school with coming back home from college.

Logically he doesn't care about the judgmental questions and the superior airs they put on, as if surviving another year of schooling could hold a candle to the crazy shit he's survived, but it still like, hurts.

At least the store’s been too busy for them to be scheduled for solo shifts, so he's mostly just working his full day with Robin, and aside from the retail hell of it all, it's been kind of nice just getting to hang out together for hours and hours.

---

Robin's too good at reading him, and he regrets his excitement to see her so soon after his weird love induced meltdown on the welcome mat.

"Oh my God, you lied!" She hisses as he takes his place behind the counter, leaning beside her. "Clearly something was wrong last night."

He knows his eyes are slightly fucked up still, but he's had nights of bad sleep that had him looking worse, so he's truly confused for a moment, and lets her know that, his perplexed frown out in full force as she sets her hands on his shoulders.

"C'mon, the puppy dog eyes aren't going to work," she says, squeezing and shaking him a little bit. "You let me think I was an over-worrier! That I was thinking too much. Tell me, Steve."

He sighs, closes his eyes, and wishes desperately they weren't at work for this.

"Any chance of letting me talk about it in eight hours?"

Robin scoffs, and digs her fingers into the meat of his shoulders.

It's probably meant to hurt, but it's a pleasant pressure, his muscles feeling a little sore from all of the tension he’s been carrying.

"No, tell me now before we have to flip the sign," she says, the little crack in her voice betraying her whole pissed off act.

"Fine just. Don't laugh," he says, wondering if it's more pathetic to ask her not to or more pathetic to experience it if she does.

She raises her eyebrows, eyes lasered in on his as he opens them, and she just looks sad.

"It hurt, you know, in the car. I just… I knew something wasn't okay but I had no idea what it was, but I was sure it was something to do with you," she says, subdued.

The soulmates thing gets pretty freaky sometimes, but Steve's heard of this happening to like, identical twins. So why not him and Robin, honestly?

"Sorry," he says, swallowing around the lump in his throat. "Just uh, when you. Said you loved me."

Robin winces, loosens her grip on his shoulders.

"Not good?" She asks, and Steve frowns.

"No, it was good," he says quickly, doesn't want her to feel bad for saying it, or worse, take it back. "I'm…"

He thinks about it, the little bright spark in his chest that's been flickering, fighting against all of the heaviness and general stress he's been feeling. It grows a little stronger every time he sees her, and he hopes that one day it can be a proper flame.

"It's just been a while," he whispers, thinks that this isn't fair to even tell her. "Since someone's told me that."

It sounds depressing as hell, and truly, despite whatever his 3AM wallowing would have to say about it, he's been doing fine, has a full enough social calendar with his friends.

"Oh," Robin says, the way it hurts as plain as a clear day on her face. "Well, I love you."

Steve finds himself blinking back tears again, and the smile that sneaks up on him feels like the lightening of a burden, an unpacked suitcase.

"I love you too."

[chrisringrose]

Poetry Month, April 2024: Poem 7: 'Fingernails'

No excuse for this one, really, except my meditations after trimming my nails on a Sunday afternoon . . .

Fingernails

Trim them on the left hand weekly:

have to keep them flush

to press the strings of the guitar.

The springy curls of keratin

lie waiting to for the bin.

No-one loves nail clippings,

but everyone likes nails,

though animals would deride them

as too soft to dig or to kill.

They push their way blindly

out of our bodies

across the quick and lunula.

There from the start:

so cute, the miniature scraps

of nail on babies’ hands;

as teenagers they’ll gnaw them down

to excavate life’s problems.

Harbingers of health or sickness

and bearers of bad news:

anaemia, fungus, thyroid, heart disease.

But then again, an art form:

Intoxicating, both the varnish fumes

and the palette of possibilities

from “sinful colours”

to blacks and whites spaced like piano keys.

I see that painted nails on men

are “a hot trend RN”.

Maybe I should try them short and black,

“accented with a written phrase”.

But what to inscribe?

“Time on my hands”, perhaps.

CR 07.04.24

[shiftylookingcrow]

A (not comprehensive) List of Little Self Care Things I Do When Everything Feels Like Too Much:

Bathing

Wash just your body, or just your hair. You may not be completely clean, but you ARE cleaner

Still feels like too much? No problem!

Take off any jewelry from your hands/wrists and wash your hands up to your elbows, just taking your time

Then wash your arm pits and groin, those are the stinkiest parts of the body

If you're feeling up to it, wash your face too

Once you're done washing, take your favorite body lotion and massage it in anywhere you washed

Shaving

Shaving takes time and patience (especially if you prefer to be mostly hairless), but you don't have to go through the whole process every time

Wanna wear that cute tank top/crop top but don't feel comfortable with how hairy your pits are today?

JUST shave your arm pits then

Wanna wear shorts/capries/a skirt, but feel your legs are too fuzzy?

Where on your legs do the cuffs/hem sit? JUST shave from there down

Facial hair looking kinda scruffy? Got an electric shaver? It won't give you as close a shave as a razor, but it'll help neaten you up a bit

After any shaving, get back in there with your lotion and work it in well

Laundry

Don't have the energy to drag that big basket you've been avoiding down to the washing machine? Out of clothes but need something to wear tomorrow?

Wash ONLY what you'll need for the next 1 or 2 days. A smaller load means less to put away after

Need a bra/binder/mask/etc for tomorrow? Wash ONE, then hang it to dry with a fan blowing on it.

The air movement will help it dry faster, and while it may not be 100% dry by morning, it should be dry enough to wear comfortably

This can be done for underwear and socks as well

Dental

Mouth feeling like sandpaper, but you still can't find it in you to go through the whole tooth care routine?

JUST brush your teeth before bed. You can floss in the morning

No energy to get in there and really scrub like your dentist told you to? Even just a quick scrub is better than nothing

You know those little Gum brand toothpick things? With runber bristles on them? They can't replace proper flossing, but the CAN at least get the worst of the gunk from between your teeth

Food

Hungry but can't bring yourself to put together a whole meal? That's okay!

Get all the fixings for a sandwich (bread, spreads, cheese, meat, etc), put them on a plate and eat that. You're still eating a sandwich, it's just not an assembled sandwich

Want a smoothy, but don't want to fuss with the blender? Put it all together as a yogurt bowl instead

Want a salad? Grab a couple lettuce leaves, a stick of celery, half a tomato, or whatever else you'd have in there, and toss it on a plate. Grab some dressing (or not) and you've got a personal size veggie platter

Cut an orange in half and eat the pulp out with a spoon

Cut an apple in half, and eat JUST one half. You can save the other half for later, or eat it right after the first if you feel up to it

Cutting a banana in half and squeezing out the fruit means you don't have to worry about those gross stringy bits

Simple Smoothie Recipe:

1 banana

1 egg

1 tsp vanilla extract

1 tsp honey/sugar

Milk (dairy, soy, almond, whichever)

Berries, yogurt, chocolate chips, jam (optional)

Directions

Put all ingredients except milk in a blender (or 4 cup measure if using a hand mixer)

Pour in milk until ingredients are ALMOST covered. There should be about 1 inch/2.5 cm of solid ingredients visible

Blender/mix for 30-60 seconds, or until desired consistency. Pour into your favorite glass, or drink straight from the container

Simple baked potato:

Clean a medium to large potato and use a fork to stab holes down the sides and at each end. Depending on the size, you should have stab your potato somewhere around 9-12 times.

Place the potato in the microwave just off of center, one end facing the center of the spinning plate

Microwave for 15 minutes, flipping the potato end for end after every 5 minutes

Put the potato on a plate with some sour cream or ranch dressing, and dip it like a big ol' french fry

House Cleaning

Feel like there's too many dishes? Pick ONE place setting (bowl, plate, knife, fork, spoon, cup), and ONE pot/pan, and clean those. Do the same at the end of each meal, and while it might take a while, you'll eventually get things down to a manageable level

Dust bunnies breeding in the corners? Pick ONE room or hallway every couple days and just clean there. ONE clean room is better than NO clean rooms

Your room is so messy you don't know where to start? Every time you enter your room, put ONE thing back where it belongs. Every time you leave your room, take one thing that doesn't belong out with you and put it where it belongs.

Sink looking kind of gross? Give it a quick wipe down the next time you wash your hands

Toilet needs a clean? Pick a part (lid, seat, back or bowl) and just clean that bit. Even if you're just wiping some of the dust off the back.

Scum ring building up in the shower/bathtub? Give it a quick scrub next time you bathe. Maybe you don't get the whole thing, but you DID make a start.

Fitness

No energy for a full walk? If you can, walk around your house/apartment building. You might not have gone far, but you were UP and you were OUTSIDE.

Can't get out for whatever reason? Are there stairs in your house? In your apartment building? If you can, walk up and down those a few times.

Not really able to do stairs? Do some simple stretches instead.

Reach down and try to touch your toes, holding for 20 seconds. Reach up over your head as high as you can, holding for 20 seconds. Repeat 5 times

Sitting in a chair, reach your right hand across your body and over your left shoulder and try to grab the back of the chair without lifting your butt. Hold for 20 seconds. Do the same with your left arm, holding for 20 seconds. Repeat 5 times

Standing, or sitting on a chair, gently pull your head towards your shoulder (right hand, right shoulder; left hand, left shoulder), reaching the other hand down towards the ground. Hold for 20 seconds, then gently push your head upright again (lifting your head with just your neck muscles can cause them to seize after a stretch). Repeat 5 times

Miscellaneous

Need to trim your nails, but don't feel like sitting through both hands? Pick one finger on each hand, and just trim that nail. Do another nail on each hand tomorrow, and another the day after that. You don't have to do them all at once

Having trouble remembering to drink enough water? Find a water bottle/mug/glass that you like and try to keep it near you as much as possible. I find actually having a bottle with me helps me remember to keep sipping.

Still having trouble with your water intake? Fruit and veggies (specifically like apples, oranges, tomatoes, bell peppers and avocados to name a few) have high water content and can help keep you hydrated

Even if you can't get to sleep, lieing in bed with your eyes closed is more restful than trying to wear yourself out by reading or something

Alternatively, doing some mild stretches, or a few sit ups/push ups/jumping jacks can help wear you out without engaging your brain too much

You are aloud to say "no". You don't even need to give a reason. If everything feels like too much, taking on more responsibility will only make it worse, which will only make your output poorer as a result.

A reminder that this is by no means a complete list, just some things I've found helpful in my journey through adhd, depression, and anxiety. Not all tasks need to be done all at once. Maybe you can't do much, but that doesn't invalidate the some you did. Just because you take longer to do a task doesn't mean your bad at it, or that it isn't worth doing. You'll get there when you get there.

Please feel free to add to this post, I'd love to see what self care tricks other people are using!

[works-of-fanfiction]

“This is Silly.” - Graham Coxon x Reader

Summary: The reader tries to treat Graham for Valentine’s Day.

Warnings: None, just short & cute.

Word Count: 1.5k.

A/N: For this, I imagined The Magic Whip era. There’s nothing in here to explicitly highlight Graham being older so you can read it however you please! This was originally going to be a smut oneshot but I liked it just like this (sorry if that disappoints) <3

Gif credits go to the creator linked on the gif.

_______________

“How long are you going to be? You’ve been in there ages!” Your increasingly impatient boyfriend calls from the other side of the bathroom door, his head pressed to the wood as his voice reverberates deeply through the room. You sit on the edge of the bathtub in the same spot you’ve been in for the past six minutes or so, fingers tapping on the porcelain and toes digging into the fluffy bath mat below.

“I’m not coming out! This is ridiculous.” You shout back, right hand flying to your mouth to pick at the skin around your fingernails. Graham rattles the door handle again only to find it still locked. He sighs, palm resting against the doorframe, thumb and forefinger absentmindedly picking at the peeling white paint.

“Come on, Y/N. Come out, please.”

“No. I feel silly.”

“But I bet you don’t look silly.” With his head still firmly pressed against the door, Graham listens out for any sign of movement in the bathroom. Through the gap at the bottom of the door, you can see his shadow and his feet shuffling around. Deciding to bite the bullet, you pull yourself to your feet and meet your reflection in the mirror, fluffing up your hair then immediately flattening it again - a nervous habit.

Graham steps back as he hears the lock turn, stopping when the backs of his legs hit the bed frame. The door opens slowly, your left hand clinging onto the handle as your right rests across your stomach in attempt to cover as much skin as possible. Graham leans against the bed frame, hands gripping the metal on either side of him as you fully step into the bedroom, the bathroom door squeaking shut behind you. “Ta-dah!” You chime unenthusiastically, waving your arms in the air only for a brief second before hugging yourself again and tiptoeing towards him. “Told you this is silly.”

“It’s only silly because you’re hiding yourself.” Graham says softly, body straightening as he reaches out to you, his fingers grazing your forearms that tightly clutch onto your stomach. “You look amazing. Now put those arms down.”

“I’m going to go change. This was a bad idea.” You turn to leave but he lunges forward and grabs your shoulder, bringing you back to face him. His hands grab each of your wrists and gently move your arms until they’re back at your sides. You can’t help but fidget as you stand before him, despite him seeing you in much less clothing than this hundreds of times before.

“Look at you.” Graham breathes, his eyes completing a full scan of your body before returning to admire your face, a blush spreading throughout your cheeks. You glance down at yourself and shrug, tugging at the sheer stocking on your leg with your toes to stop it from twisting.

“D - do you like it?” You ask nervously, resisting the urge to fold your arms over your chest.

You didn’t want to admit it, but it had actually been Alex’s idea to surprise Graham with this particular outfit. The thing with Alex was that his ideas had always been either fantastic or horrendous, with absolutely no middle man. This idea had sounded great at the time when you were drunk and rambling about what to do for Graham for your first Valentine’s Day. For some odd reason, your intoxicated brain had penned Alex as the romance expert. You’d gone into town the very next morning, hungover with a mission to accomplish. After trying on various pieces in different colours, all more risqué than you could’ve ever imagined, you’d settled on a blush pink set completed with all the stereotypically “sexy” trimmings. Never in your life did you picture so much lace would be on your body at once. You felt like a mannequin in the middle of a fabric shop.

“I do. Y - “

“This isn’t really me... Is it?” You interject, one foot crossing over the other awkwardly whilst your nails pluck at the sparkly and unbelievably itchy piece of lace on your hip.

“It’s new, yes. But if it’s any consolation…” Graham pulls you in closer, resting back against the bed frame with your body situated between his legs. You stumble a little, cushioning your fall by grabbing onto his shoulders. You bury your face into the crook of his neck, his head turning to the left so his lips can reach your cheek. “I think you look incredible.” He leaves a soft kiss by your ear, the smacking sound loud and his breath tickling your skin. You can’t help but giggle, rubbing your ear against his shoulder.

“Really?” You mumble, voice muffled by Graham’s jumper. He reaches round to take ahold of your face, carefully manoeuvring your bodies until you’re opposite one another again. It’s impossible to avoid his gaze; it’s like his eyes are burning holes into your face, leaving marks wherever they land. Your skin is hot beneath Graham’s touch and the lack of space between your bodies makes the air feel humid and tight.

His reply doesn’t come in words as his right hand slips from your face to wrap around your back. His left thumb remains on your cheek as his fingers hook beneath your ear, slipping into your hair and lightly pulling it at the back. A slight whimper escapes your lips before the sound is consumed by Graham’s mouth meeting yours. What starts as a sweet, slow kiss develops into a bout of desperation and insatiable need, a need to have you as close as possible. Hands explore bodies, unsure of their destinations: clinging onto fabrics, slipping beneath garments, gripping onto clammy skin. The lenses of Graham’s glasses grow foggy, and you pull away to carefully take them from his face and set them down on the ottoman beside you. He squints a little, eyes adjusting to the room around him, carving out your silhouette in the moonlight glaring through the curtains. His hands never leave your body, like they’re fused to your skin, moulded to your shape like a sculpture.

“You really are beautiful.” He whispers, the back of his fingers grazing your cheek lovingly. You hold onto his upper arms, your fingertips stroking his soft woollen jumper as you remind yourself of just how lucky you are. Catching your reflection in the mirror behind him, you stifle a laugh as you spot your beet-red cheeks and messy hair. For Graham to find you beautiful in this moment seems crazy to you, but the look in his eyes is enough to convince you that he’s telling the truth. He’s always telling the truth. In fact, you’re not sure you can recall a single lie coming out of Graham’s mouth, not even a little white one. You’re still convinced that one day you’ll wake up and realise he was just a figment of your imagination.

“Alright!” Graham starts, cutting you out of your silent daydream. He bends, arm hooking under your knees as he lifts you up. You squeal, laughing as you kick your feet around.

“Gra! What are you doing?”

“You’re my Valentine’s gift, right?” He steps around to the side of the bed, placing you down onto the mattress. You scoot back, propping yourself up on your elbows and looking up at him with a devilish smile on your face. “Can I open my gift now?”

“Graham!” You grab the nearest pillow from behind your head and throw it at him, hitting him square in the face. “That’s filthy.”

“I didn’t mean it like that!” He protests, kicking the pillow up from the floor and catching it in his hands, throwing it back at you. You catch it, placing it back down beside you.

“Sure you didn’t.” You tease, crossing one leg over the other and extending your body.

Graham pulls at his right sleeve, sliding his arm out before the rest of the jumper follows. “Okay, maybe I did.” He drops it on the floor and climbs onto the bed, engulfing you in his arms and nuzzling his face into your neck, his hair tickling you. You laugh, wriggling beneath him and clawing at the back of his shirt. He feathers your skin with kisses so light, it’s like a thousand butterflies are walking all over you with barely-there footsteps and wings brushing against you.

You manage to fight him off, rolling the two of you over so you’re straddling him. His fingers rest at the top of your thighs, tracing over the lace trim of your stockings. You toy with the strap on your shoulder, trying your best to put on a sexy show for him. A smile plays on his lips as his grip on your thighs tightens, his large palms squeezing them. “Now I just have to figure out how to get this thing off.” You scoff, reaching behind you. Graham’s hands fly up to grab your wrists, stopping you from going any further.

“Leave it on.”

[harrysgloves]

This Will Be Our Year

Summary: Harry comes home with you for your family New Year’s dinner.

Word Count: 3.8k

Warnings: Language. Shitty families. Smut/ Harry’s got a filthy mouth.

A/N: Okay, lets all pretend that I got this out on Saturday instead of Tuesday... Big shout out to @meetmeinfleetwood for making this “to lovers” fic challenge. It was the first fic challenge I’ve ever done! And I loved trying to figure this one out.

I picked ‘Friends to Lovers’ with the prompts: “You think anyone heard us?” & “You keep that photo of us in your wallet?”

>>>

You didn't miss the upward turn of your best friends' lip when you anxiously readjusted the hem of your dress for the millionth time. You didn't even bother trying to steady your shaky hands as they tugged down on lacy black fabric that touched a few inches above where you normally wore your skirts or shorts

"Stop it." You huffed as he let out the tiniest breath of a laugh at your struggle. 

"Sorry, love, think y'look great." He smiled that lazy half smirk that made your stomach flutter but you had no time to worry about that right now. No, right now, you were on your way to visit your parents for the first time in a year.

The excuses of being busy with work, having no time to travel, not having the money for it, or literally any other excuse you could come up with had finally stopped working. Your mother fully demanded for you to come back home for the traditional New Year's dinner your family had every first weekend of the new year. You would have said no, but the second her disappointed voice floated in from the other end of the phone, you knew there was no way out. 

You deeply loved your immediate family. It was the extended family that you could go without. The bitchy cousins who always seemed to be doing better in life than you. Know-it-all Aunts who gave you unwelcomed dating advice or worse, they'd sit and examine why you didn't have a man 

"Yeh sure 'bout this?" He asked from the driver seat, his hand grasped on the wheel so tight you could see his knuckles turning white. "We could fake sick or somethin' if yeh want out. Bad gas station sushi, maybe."

A smile broke across your solemn face. The snort of a laugh that creaked out of your lungs washed a bit of relief over Harry. His hands gently lifted pressure from the wheel.

"Gas station sushi is the best you could come up with?" You teased from beside him, head turning just in time to see that dimpled smile you loved so much. 

"Wha' not believable?" He grinned, playful green eyes shot your way before focusing back on the road. 

You shook your head no as silence fell over the car again. Only one more turn and you'd be there.

"If yeh get uncomfortable, just tug on my shirt and we'll go, yeah?" He said as the gravel from your parents driveway crunched under the car's weight. Your stomach churned at the sight of everyone else already there. Anxiety flaring deep inside of your body, your chest suddenly felt tighter even when you let out a deep breath.

"It'll be okay." Harry said after a moment of letting you try to calm down. His ring filled hand enveloped your own shaky hand that rested on your lap. A calm washed over you from his touch. His warm hands melted away the troubled feeling that was lurking in the depths of your soul.

"I'm sorry in advance for whatever they say." You mumbled, giving his hand a squeeze. You missed the small up turn of his lips from your action, the way his cheeks tinted the softest shade of pink. You thought his cough was to dismiss what you'd said, not knowing it was him trying to himself that you only saw him as a friend.

"'M pretty sure I can handle them, love." He smiled even though you shot him a very unimpressed look. "Wha'? I survived Simon Cowell, think I got yeh family." 

"Shut up." You chuckled as you brushed your hand off your leg. The other flung open the car door before you had a chance to chicken out.

>>>

Dragging Harry along for this dinner was the best idea you'd ever had in your whole life. Your family's attention was so far off you that you barely talked the hour before dinner and Harry was handling all the attention like a champ. His hand pressed to your lower back as your uncle grilled him about every famous person he'd ever met.

"Wait, so you're telling me that you know The Mick Jagger?" Your uncle looked a second away from breaking into a full out fangirl attack. Your lips rolled in your mouth to stifle the laugh that was bubbling in your throat before a harsh squeeze on your hips from Harry had you glaring daggers into him.

He nodded his head full of soft flowly curls, that you always wanted to run your fingers through, before shooting a smirk down to you. 

He was living for this. He loved being able to touch you, lead you around to talk to people. Adored when you playfully shoved him with your shoulder when he said something embarrassing about you. He tried to be as cool, calm, and collected as he could but when you fully leaned into his side his breathing caught in his throat. His hand pressed tighter into you, mostly to hide how much it was quivering from your closeness.

He had tried for over a year to come up with a way to tell you he wanted to be more than a friend. If he was being honest with himself, he wanted to be more since the night you two met, but he was too insecure about himself to speak up. You were just so vibrant. Your laugh, your smile, the way you talked with demand but was always such a sensitive soul. 

He was absolutely fucked for you and you had no damn idea.

You always thought he was too out of your league to even begin to entertain the want of something else with him. He was the great Harry Styles and well, you were just you. You, who happened to be friends with Glenne, who dragged you to a bar for a karaoke night almost two years ago. The rest between you and him was history. You'd gotten along so well and at first, you thought, it might have turned into something more, but he never tried anything more than stupid flirty banter which he seemed to do with just about anyone. So, you dropped it. Moved on. Now he was just Harry, you're really good, super hot, you may think about him when you meditate late at night, friend.

"Gonna get more wine." You said after you drank the last drop from the glass in your hand. You were going to need so much more wine if you were going to be listening to your uncle for the next 45 minutes until dinner was ready.

"Will y'bring me some too?" Harry asked with a glimmer of desperation in his eyes. You figured maybe he'd need the alcohol more than you did tonight. He had been putting up with a lot of crap from your family. 

You nodded your head yes before taking off through the hallways you used to run down when you were a kid, towards the kitchen. Your mind lost in a hazy of memories of you learning to ride your bike on your mothers freshly polished floors while the babysitter sat on your house phone with her boyfriend all night. The time your brother told you carving your names into the fancy trim along the bottom of the floor meant you two would live forever. 

The memories came to a screeching halt when you finally rounded the corner to the kitchen. Your cousin aka the bitch you hated most in the world lounged casually on the counter, her back towards you as she chatted with a friend she had brought along.

"Didn't think I was going to meet Harry fucking Styles. Would have at least done my hair." The girl you didn't know huffed out as you pressed your back to the wall. Desperate to get away from both of them. Suddenly you felt 12 again, hiding from Shannon before she had a chance to torment you.

"Not like you even need it. You already look better than Y/N without it." Shannon snorted out that nails-on-a-chalkboard laugh as your stomach sank. 

"True, girl is a bit mousy." 

"Don't forget annoying. Can't believe someone famous is hanging out with her."

A part of you wanted to turn around and walk away, but the other part was morbidly interested in what she said behind your back. Maybe, whatever she had to say, was what everyone said about you two when you weren't around.

"Think they're dating?"

"Fuck no." She scoffed with so much certainty behind her voice it made you cringe. You knew it was a bit dumb, especially since you tried to not picture yourself with him as much as possible but it still hurt. "Y/N's boring and bland as hell. He's probably too nice to tell her that he isn't interested and he feels bad that she never has any friends or a boyfriend." 

You knew you should have walked away when you had the chance. Every word that was uttered by the voice that caused your childhood trauma floated into your mind with daggers. 

Every bad thing you thought about yourself. Every reason you thought Harry would never like you was now confirmed by someone else.

"It's like his charity work for the year or something."

The last sentence was the one that broke you. Your eyes filled with tears as your feet finally unglued themselves from the permanent spot they seemed to be in. You ran for the safety of your childhood bedroom. Your mind too preoccupied with the thought that maybe, he did feel that way about you, to pay attention to anything else around you. You didn't register that Harry was only a few feet away from you when you slammed yourself into your old room.

The knocks on your door didn't bother you. You could care less to explain to our mom right now about what happened but tried your best to pull yourself together anyways. Your crying turned to quite sniffling when the knocks came again.

"Y/N, wha's wrong?" His anxious voice echoed through your door causing all tears or sniffles to stop immediately in their tracks. What the hell were you going to tell him? Your mind panicked for some lie you could use to cover up the fact you had a breakdown when the door opened, the hard metal of the door knob pushed you out of the way.

"'M sorry fo' comin' in but I saw yeh cryin' and I had to check on yeh." He mumbled uncomfortably from beside you as he shut the door again. "Wha' happened?"

"'S nothin'," you said as you dried your own eyes with the back of your hand. "Just, my cousin saying shit. I just took it a bit too personal for no reason." 

"'M sorry, petal." He cooed as his hand stroked the rest of your eyes off your cheeks away. Your head instantly nuzzled into his warmth. "Wha' was she goin' on 'bout?"

You tried your best to not tense up. Your eyes remained shut, head buried harder against his hand that still hadn't moved from your face.

"Told you, it's nothing. Really, it was dumb and I just- it's stupid H." 

"'S not stupid if it made y'cry." He frowned deeply as he lifted your chin up. Your eyes finally fluttered open to see disappointed written all across his face.

"She just-" you sighed, feeling dumb for being caught up in the moment. Her words stung but your knee-jerk reaction to cry was a bit over the top. You were embarrassed, your skin heated as his eyes trained on you. You desperately tried to look anywhere but him- the floor, the dresser, the door- anywhere. "She just… she said some things to her friend about how boring and bland I am. Said I had no friends and blah blah blah. Just dumb stuff." 

You shrugged, feeling uncomfortable talking about what had happened. You gave him the geist of it without having to divulge into the whole story. You figured it was better to leave the part about you being charity work for him out of it. An angry Harry was the last thing you wanted to deal with today.

"Yeh the least boring person I know." He said, finally breaking the silence. "And yeh far from bland. I mean, look at yeh," he gestured to your outfit, his eyes sparked as your face heated from the attention he was giving you.

"Shut up." You groaned, hands covering your burning face as he wrapped you up in a hug. His chest vibrated with chuckles as you buried your head into the crook of his arm.

"Come on, don't be embarrassed." His chin rested on your head as you fought to keep the pink blush across your face at bay. "Know I think yeh pretty. Prettiest petal've ever met." 

You could feel his body straighten up. Almost as if he got uncomfortable with being so forward with you. His hands held around you just a bit tighter and you could physically hear his heart start to race. You started to realize, maybe, just maybe, you'd been reading all the signs wrong.

You pulled away from him slightly, your lips rolled in your mouth as you peered up to him. The blush that lingered across his nose ran to both cheeks. His jaw clenched together, shifty eyes finally met yours after a long moment of avoiding your gaze. You could see gears turning in his mind.

"H?" You barely breathed out before he surged forward, his lips met yours with so force you were almost thrown off balance. Your hands quickly grabbed on his forearms to steady yourself. Your nails dug into the soft silk fabric of his sleeves as your mouth desperately tried to keep up with his frantic movements.

It was everything you'd ever imagined kissing Harry would be like. Soft, amazing lips pressed to yours. Warmth flooded your system, almost like he was bringing you back to life. His hand rested on your cheek as he pulled you closer, other hand around your waist, helping you keep balance on your tiptoes. Even if it was a bit rushed, it was perfect to you.

But then you felt him go rigid again.

"I shouldn't 'ave done that. 'M so sorry, Y/N, I know yeh don't like me like that and I got caught up and, and-nd, fuck 'm so sorry-" he rushed out in a ramble the second his lips parted from yours. Your eyes barely opened by the time he'd finished his rushed out speech. His hands ran nervously through his curls. Panic radiated off him.

"Who said I didn't like you?" You asked, halfway out of breath. His hands fell from his perfectly messy hair, down to his side. His mouth gaped open as he blinked slowly at your words.

"I, well, I thought-" He trailed off as you both stood there completely dumbfounded. 

You'd both liked each other this whole damn time.

"We're idiots." You giggled. Quickly ceasing the opportunity to close to space between you two again. 

Your arms wrapped around his neck as you pulled him to your level. This time, he was the one pleasantly surprised. The light humph out of him only fueled your fire as you dominated the kiss. Your tongue ran across his bottom lips, begging him to let you in. Tongues danced together in an unknown language as his arms circled you again. Holding you close as your fingers ran through the back of his hair.

It was quick. Both of you moved so fast, desperate for more. More touch, more skin contact. You felt that desire you'd pushed to the side flame to the surface as you both stumbled for balance. Your back was pressed tightly against the door after you both got your footing. 

Kissing was easy, but kissing passionately in an unknown space when you could give two shits-less about anything but each other, was hard. 

It wasn't long before the scruff on his face was burning into your sensitive and puffy lips. He'd taken over control over your mouth so long ago you had no idea where you started and he ended. Your hands, along with his, roamed uncharted territory of each other's bodies. Small gasps and light whimpers were flooding the room but you couldn't be bothered with caring right now. You were finally getting what you wanted, him.

"We should stop." He groaned, half annoyed with himself for trying to be considerate to your family. His forehead rested against yours as you both breathed in deeply.

You whined in protest at his words, your hips involuntarily grinded against him in a sense of desperation. He had winded you up like a damn play toy. He breathed a laugh at your neediness, his head shaking but you could see those dimples popping out when you stared up at him with doe-eyes. 

"Don't wanna fuck yeh fo' the first time in your parents house, lovie." He smiled widely as you let out a disappointed huff. Sure, you understood his point but that throbbing in core wasn't going to be going away any time soon. 

Harry considered it for a moment as he looked down to your glistening chest that was heaving in deep breaths. The swells of your breast had always been mesmerizing but, fuck, right now they look irresistable. His sight finally moved off your chest to your swollen and puffy mouth. He groaned at the sight, his mind instantly wondering if your other lips would look as beautiful when he was done with them.

His hand moved on it's own accord. Slipping up your dress, to your absolutely drenched panties. Your lip tucked under your lip, hips bucking in a need for more when you heard the most glorious moan fall from his lips.

"Can't leave y'like this, now can I, pup?" His lust filled eyes seemed to darken when you shook your head no. Your ruined underwear pushed to the side by his fingers, his breathing catching in his throat from just how fucking wet you were.

You whimpered and whined as he took his time leisurely circling around your clit, his finger skimming across your needy hole only teased you further. You could feel your nipples pebble against the roughness of your bra, feeling left out of the action, but you weren't complaining. 

"Quiet, or yeh gonna get us caught, sweetheart." Harry tried to scold you but you didn't miss the smug look of pride that sat on his lips. "Gonna have to keep you quiet, sweet girl." His free hand moved from the door, to your mouth. Three fingers tapped against your lips for you to open and holy fuck, you didn't think this would be happening today. 

A chill went down your spine as his fingers sat heavy on your tongue. He licked his lips as he watched you mimicked how good you'd suck him off later when two fingers entered you quickly.

"Fuckin' hell," he breathed out, the situation in his pants grew impossibly bigger while you moaned wildly against his fingers. "Jesus, fuck, yeh so tight. Gonna 'ave to prep yeh fo' me later, sweetheart."

You could barely register his words as he pumped into you again. His thumb pressed against your aching numb. He was reaching places inside of you that you'd never been able to reach. Places that you had no idea could feel this good. All sense of control left you as he hit that spot. His hand quickly pulled from your mouth to cup over top of it.

"Sing so pretty fo' me, puppy. Can't wait to hear how you sound when y'on my cock." Your walls quivered at his words, your juices dripped further down your leg as you began to quickly approach your end.

"'M ruin this little pussy later, gonna fuck y'until yeh can't handle it anymore." He started to ramble about how good you felt, how tight you were, how he was going to stretch you over his cock so good tonight that he'd ruin you. Your legs started to shake as your mind melted into a goo of pleasure. 

"Fuck, yeh like when I talk to yeh like that, don't yeh sweetheart?" You weakly nodded at his words, his hand around your mouth making it impossible to say anything but it wasn't like you'd be able to speak right now anyways. His fingers curled inside of you, pumping, his thumb switching from light touches to hard pressure. "I'd let y'talk to me like that later tonight but my dick is gonna be shoved in all the holes I can get into, puppy."

You could feel your eyes roll into the back of your head as the overwhelming flood of your release washed over you. Blinding white lights of adrenaline ran through your veins as you let out a guttural moan from a depth you had no idea existed inside of you.

You were a panting hot mess when his hands finally left your body. Sweet kisses pressed to your lips to calm you down.

"Do y'think anyone heard us?" Harry asked, his lips still hovering over your mouth as you let out a croak laugh.

"You think I care about that right now?" Your eyebrows raised as you peered up to him. His smile growing by the second as he wrapped you in a hug. "Come on, let's go, you have a few promises you made about tonight that I want to hold you to." You giggled as his cheeks flamed red, your hand reached for his but he didn't move. His boy glued in place as his eyes scanned around your old room.

"What?" You asked as you turned around to see him studying every inch of your childhood. 

"I didn't get to see it earlier." He shrugged a bit, trying to not seem like he was hyper focused on every detail. Your pile of old notebooks your mother kept "just incase you ever wanted them again", your old dresser that you'd painted at some point, your rose pattern bedspread, the mountain of books and magazines that were shoved away.

"Wha's this?" He pointed to the huge wall that was covered in nothing but pictures. 

"Oh, uhm, I used to put pictures of me and my friends on my wall. You know, like people used to do before Facebook." Harry chuckled as he shook his head at you. His hand fished into his back pocket as he moved away from you.

"What- what are you doing?" You asked, your eyebrows furrowed tightly together as you moved towards him. The picture of your and Harry's drunken photo booth session from New Year's last year in his hand.

"You keep that photo of us in your wallet?" You finally asked after he pinned it on your wall. His cheeky smile across his face as he threw an arm over your shoulder.

"Yup." He smiled widely as you chuckled from beside him. Your arm rested around his waist.

"Dork."

[writertothemaximum]

Pairing: Tobio Kageyama x Reader

Summary: Kageyama gets really pent up and gets super nervous trying to ask you to finger him.

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings/Content: nsfw/smut, Kageyama bottoming, dominant reader, anal fingering, non-gendered reader, extremely fluffy, contains cuddles

Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26867611

It was lunch on a fine day in the middle of fall and you sat down at your classroom table, ready to eat your meal for the afternoon. Kageyama sat across from you, looking somehow more irritated than usual. It was actually quite challenging to figure out when he was bothered by something or just you know, being himself. Only with Kageyama exposure in high quantities would anyone be able to crack the code that is his resting bitchface. After six months of dating, you were one of the rare few who had grown to understand it.

Simply put, crossed legs, a distinct lack of a milkbox, and a lack of will to eat the bento you oh-so-kindly prepared for him this morning meant something was on his mind.

You unwrapped the cloth covering the lunchbox, firmly opened up the lid, snagged your chopsticks, and picked up a big piece of chicken katsu. Flinging it around in the air like imitating an airplane for a child who didn’t want to eat their vegetables, you brought it to Kageyama’s face. “Tobio, say ‘ahhh’,” you said, your voice almost stern.

He poked around, finally making eye contact. Reluctantly, he opened his mouth, “Ahhh—”

The katsu landed safely on his tongue. He took a second to pull the thing out as you slipped the chopsticks out from his lips and he started to chew.

“How is it?” you asked.

He seemed a little bit more pleasant.

“Good,” he said, nodding.

“Good, good,” you said, nodding back, a proud smile slapped across your face.

There was a little snicker from the seat next to you.

“Baby-baby Kageyama getting fed his lunch like a little baby,” Hinata said, snidely. You know he did it just to piss Kageyama off. It always worked. It wasn’t even ever a good one. At least Tsukishima came up with clever insults.

“Shut up, dumbass!” he snapped back at him, looking back at you patiently for another bite. His irritation was back, though, and he stared at you as if his mind only had the capacity for getting you to feed him another bite. Also volleyball. Probably.

“Hey, Hinata-kun, do you want a bite?” you asked, turning your attention to your right.

Hinata’s eyes lit up.

“Of course!” he said, shooting over to you with his mouth wide open.

The look on Kageyama’s face was one of the most precious things in the entire world. He looked hurt, almost, as if offering someone else the bento he didn’t even want to eat was not only detrimental to his well-being but his entire soul. His whole face dripped down in shock and mortification, as if asking why you would do something so cruel to him.

Taking another piece of katsu, you sprung your chopsticks into the air, whipping them around like an airplane mid-flight, sound effects, and all. The tip of the rounded wood swung by Hinata’s mouth, just as Kageyama’s lips parted, ever so slightly.

You rammed the thing into Kageyama’s mouth.

Chopsticks still poking out of his lips, he stood up and pumped both fists into the air proudly, congratulating his victory.

Hinata’s fist smacked lightly on the top of his head.

“Bakegama, you’re the boyfriend, if you didn’t win I’d be concerned,” he said, almost chuckling.

Kageyama sat back down, taking the chopsticks out of his mouth, accepting a pyrrhic victory. Hinata reached over and grabbed a piece of katsu with his fingers and flicked it into his mouth. Kageyama grabbed the box and held it close to his body.

“Hey! That’s my lunch, you idiot!” he shouted at him.

Hinata pouted, mouth still full of flavorful chicken. “What, I was offered it, anyways.”

You laughed at the duo, the bickering so pointless they might as well been having any other ordinary conversation. It was like this every day, but that also meant there was a mundanity to it all. A wonderful sort of peace to the regularity of things. It was really pleasant, you hoped things would stay like this for a long time.

…

In the evening of that same day, you got a text from Kageyama asking if he could come over. A part of you was tempted to say no to see his reaction, but you said yes, as you weren’t really doing anything. It was past dinner and his night practice, anyways, so your parents wouldn’t get too much into your business. And plus, you still wanted to know what was bothering him.

So that’s how you ended up sitting on your bed, flipping through English vocab flashcards, a boy practically twice your size cradled in your lap. He seemed somehow grumpier than normal, if that were at all possible. He clearly wasn’t studying with you, his focus seemed almost completely centered around frowning and ruminating on, well…something.

He really liked to sit with you holding him like this. He told you it felt really comfortable and warm and he wasn’t really sure why he liked it so much. Whenever he came over, especially if he was tired (especially if he lost a match), he’d sit right there on your lap, snuggling in, getting all warm and cozy. He was the little spoon and he indulged in every second of it.

If that Shiratorizawa guy you met was a ‘guess monster’ Kageyama most certainly was a ‘cuddle monster’.

“It’s distracting.”

“What is?” you asked in response, flicking by the word for ‘arbitrary’.

“That,” he reiterated, not really answering anything.

“Tobio, what is that?” you said, emphasizing the word in the same way he did.

Was the English practice bothering him? You knew he was especially bad in that subject, maybe seeing you look over it made him anxious. You had a test tomorrow so you wanted to make sure you were ready, but it was unlike Kageyama to be petty over something like that. He was usually petty over…dumber things.

Kageyama shuffled in your lap, moving his hand down to his groin, adjusting his underwear. There was a soft pat as the elastic moved back into place. He just tucked an erection in his waistband, right? That’s what that was, right?

You snapped the rubber band around your flashcards and with a groan, chucked them across the room, aiming for your backpack, not quite making it.

You grabbed the boy in your arms and flipped the world around, landing his back firmly against the bed. Pinning him down and grabbing his wrists firmly with your fists, you squinted your eyes, as if to appraise this body of his. Your focus led down his T-shirt and to the hem of his shirt, which you grabbed firmly and dragged up his chest.

Yeah, he was hard, alright. The poor thing was poking out the top of his gym shorts.

“Tobio, what was that?” you said again, words pronounced and sharp.

He looked so overwhelmed like this, it was a good look on him, trying to form words with a stuffed brow and puckered lips.

“I-I uh…” he mumbled out, his head rolling to the side.

You frowned.

“What is it? Come on, there’s nothing to be ashamed of,” you said, deciding on a laugh. “Plus, if you’re honest, it’ll help us deal with your little uh, ‘problem’.”

Yeah, whatever it was it was going to be a sex thing. He was still so timid about that kind of stuff, it was really cute. You never pushed him into anything, so he’d make requests every now and then, and it was really funny to see him open up about what he liked. Almost as if you’d hate him for some stupid reason like having natural urges like any other human being would.

He finally mustered up the courage to look you in the eye, his lips puffed out and expression meek and lacking confidence.

“...Can you finger me?”

You blinked a couple times, finally realizing what he had asked.

“You mean like, up your ass?”

He got irritated, easily pushing you back up, detaching himself from being pinned to the bed.

“Yeah! Like up my ass!” He shouted, not really concerned with how his tone of voice sounded. Then, it only came out as mumbles, “It’s not like I’ve been thinking about it for the past week or anything…”

Oh god, he was a giant idiot. Not subtle, Kageyama.

You started chuckling—hard to contain, really.

“Of course I’ll do it. What, did you think I’d laugh at you or something?” you asked.

Kageyama’s face turned sharp red.

“No.”

That was a yes. That was definitely a yes.

Well, you knew by now that Kageyama liked being on the receiving ends of things. A part of you wondered if he’d become a pillow-princess if you spoiled him too much.

“Alright, alright, get back down, let’s get you nice and comfy, shall we?” you said, waving your hands in the air for him to turn around. Reluctantly, he shifted his whole body weight, pulling his knees in and getting on all fours, face firmly against the pillow. A part of you wanted to grab his hair and force his neck up for air, but it wouldn’t be worth it at this point, considering you hadn’t even touched him. You’d get a better reaction if you did it later.

You bent around to the nightstand, fishing around for the stuff you’d need.

“Tobio, do you want me to use a condom, or are just my fingers fine?”

“Just fingers,” you heard, muffled by the pillow. It almost sounded like he was biting it. It was cute to see him preparing himself mentally for this. He seemed really eager and that was endearing.

Nails trimmed? Check. Lube? Check. One Kageyama with a huge ass waving in the air waiting for your fingers to fuck the shit out of him? Check.

Okay, okay, all good to go here.

You pulled yourself back onto the bed and flicked open the bottle’s cap, squirting out a little just to make sure you had enough. Snapping the thing shut again, you set your eyes back on sweet ass.

He was so cute on his hands and knees like this. It gave you a really good view of his calves and thighs, too. After years of jumping, years of running, they really developed into something that could only be described as perfect as a marble statue. When you wrapped your palms around them, you could feel the meat and bone, no trace of fat, each ligament and muscle tissue finely defined. He twitched slightly, muscles tensing as your fingers wrapped around the tissue.

Taking your other hand, you outstretched your index finger and poked hard on his ass, aiming for the spot where his asshole should be. It pushed the fabric into him, rubbing him through thick cloth aimlessly. It wasn’t a direct touch, it wasn’t close. You were just teasing him, suggesting that you were going to stick it up there, that you were really going to put it in him.

Kageyama got so antsy as you ground your finger into his ass. He shifted his hips, rubbing his dick against the waistband, absolutely desperate for some form of friction aside from this half-assed prodding at his shorts.

“Aren’t you gonna uh, like…Do something? Stop poking me….”

Ah, he was really cute when he got desperate, wasn’t he?

You slapped your hands on the sides of his hips and pulled the waistband of the gym shorts and his underwear in a slow motion, riding them gently down. When they got to his knees, you saw his dick spring out, still as hard and irritated as earlier. You arched his leg up in the air to pull the shorts off and flung them across the room, probably to settle near the flashcards on the ground.

There really was a different way asses looked when the guy really worked out. It wasn’t round and bubbly like how one might expect when you describe a great ass, but it retained all the springiness of tightly packed skin. It was clefted in a way, a little angular, a little flat, a little shaped like two rounded squares. It was so easy to wrap your hands around, to let your thumbs sink into the smooth skin, to feel each movement as he adjusted his knees to the pressure of his body weight on the bed.

He was shivering a little bit, as if the stress was lowering his body temperature, as if being nervous made his brain fire out shots of chills trying to understand that this was happening, that this was actually happening, and that he was lying here on your bed like this. You put a hand at the bottom of his tailbone, stabilizing him. You leaned in, using your other hand to gently rub his inner thigh, relaxing him, trailing soft kisses down the line of your thumb as it crossed his smooth skin.

Feeling his breathing slow down and the shaking slow, you leaned back up and grabbed the bottle, squirting a big glob of lube onto your fingers, running down to your palm. You used your other hand to get a firm grip on his ass, spreading one of his cheeks, leaving the small outline of a little hole, all shriveled up tight and twitching ever so slightly. You moved your hand toward him and as the tip of your finger traced the hairs on his asscrack, making him feel the echoes of the chills from before.

You could hear him muttering into the pillow, his face still planted into the thing, his hands clutching it tightly, as if it was the only thing keeping him bound to this world.

“It’s okay, it’s okay, it won’t hurt, I promise,” you said, making sure your words were gentle and comforting.

He started to calm again and you let your free hand run down the end of his back, slowly trickling up through the shirt to his spine, the soft tickle hopefully distracting the feeling of your finger up pressing on him.

It almost felt like the world was splitting when you let your first finger glide inside. You let your other hand grip on the middle of his back, supporting him, moving your finger further in, surrounded by heat and a warm grip.

“Mmmmngnh…” you heard him grumble into the pillow. A part of you wanted to see his expressions, but the other part of you knew that it was better like this. After all, it was his first time with anything inside, it was a little bit of a vulnerable position to be in.

“Is it in yet?” you heard from him more clearly, his head tilted to the side. Sweat covered his forehead, the thin strands of his bangs sticking to his skin.

“Hmm, only about halfway,” you said.

“Tch,” he responded with, face planted right back into soft cushion.

You couldn’t stop the soft smile on your lips, knowing that Kageyama was trying to act strong for you. He was trying to show that he could take it, even if it was really sensitive, even if it was embarrassing that he could possibly like something like this, even if he could never admit that it felt good to have a part of you inside him.

You pushed the rest of the finger in, feeling his groaning flush through the bed, humming slightly into the blankets. He took your first finger so well, all the way to the knuckle now. He squeezed a couple times around you, probably trying to get used to the sensation, even if relatively, one finger wasn’t very much.

Planning on thrusting your one finger into him a couple times, you moved your other hand to grab onto his thigh to make sure he wouldn’t thrash about the place. When you first started to pull out, you felt him clench around you, as if he couldn't bear with the thought of you leaving his ass. It was so slippery now, though, your finger accidentally popped out.

Kageyama gave a little groan like he was disappointed.

Holding back a snide comment, you just pushed right back into him, sliding in with little resistance this time. His torso leaned forward with your motion, as if his entire body was jelly against your pushes. After getting into a short rhythm with the one finger, you felt Kageyama start to get used to the sensation, pushing his hips back against you with each push. You were pretty sure you hadn’t found his prostate yet, but he seemed to just enjoy the feeling of having it inside, so that was good enough for you for now.

Gripping his thigh tighter to signal to him you were slowing down your pace, you bent your middle finger and pushed it into him, spreading him further. With the spark of greater tension, every hair on Kageyama’s back began to stand, pressure building inside of him, everything standing on edge. You pushed in and sweet sounds poured back, muffled and hoarse through the thick fabric. You pushed in deep, knuckles straining against the edge of his asshole, fingers pushing downwards, pressing gently against the inside of his belly.

“Haaaaargh,” you heard from him, lifting his head off the pillow for a breathy gasp of air.

You looked down and noticed that his dick had started dripping. It did feel like you were touching something a little harder in there. You poked again, rubbing your two fingers up and down like you were beckoning him to come over to you.

“Hnnnnnnng,” he moaned, this time the pitch riding low as it faded out. You could feel it as the pleasure swept through him like a wave, crashing hoarsely and crudely outside of his body and through his groin.

Yeah, that was definitely his prostate.

“How does that feel?” You asked.

“Goooood…” he mumbled.

You scissored your fingers apart to get a better look at his asshole, now red and twitching, shuddering with the rest of his body, taking in every sensation, every rubbing motion of his insides. His dick just felt so hot and tingly, he wanted to touch it, he wanted to reach down and start jacking himself off as you prodded around inside of him. His hand, torn and calloused from hours of work, finally moved down and he started to touch himself. Even with only a couple of strokes, you could feel him starting to come. That wouldn’t be fun. You hadn’t had your fill yet.

You pulled your fingers out and grabbed him strongly on the shoulder, flipping his entire body around, slamming him onto his back. He faced you now, pretty blue eyes with a confused look, concerned, almost frightened at the look you were giving him. It had been too hot with his face against the pillow, sweat was dripping down his forehead, his hair clinging tightly in bunches to his skin.

With great force, you slammed your hand down on his mouth. Covering his lips, you felt him thrash around, almost trying to get you off him, never for a second earnestly meaning to. He started whining, the vibrations of his throat reverberating through your hand and coming off as garbled garbage.

“You’re being too loud, you need to quiet down.”

You put your other hand by his ass and pushed three fingers in. If it wasn’t for your hand, he would have never been able to contain the moan. You pushed up, seeing his eyes go wide and roll back, feeling everything all the way up his spine into the very fiber of his body. His moans came out gagged, hoarse, and choked, begging for air. His saliva caked your fingers, unable to keep it all in, unable to force his mouth closed, unable to stop the sounds from coming out.

Kageyama started clutching his asshole around your fingers, desperately trying to get any sensation of friction as he could. His fingers were wrapped firmly around your shoulders, holding on for dear life, trying to stabilize himself in any way he could so his mind wouldn’t go crazy, so his mind wouldn’t get consumed by all these feelings going up his ass.

He moved a hand off your shoulder and started to touch himself, this time with less restraint. He seemed so desperate for any kind of attention there, any kind of feeling that would draw him over the edge, any tingling that would tip him into that wonderful feeling.

It wasn’t long before you felt his muscles start to clench. Before everything started to tense up and his mouth to start lolling against your hand, dragging his tongue aimlessly across your fingers. He came, sucking your fingers inside his ass as deep as he could, milking them for that sweet release as far as he could take it.

For a moment, everything seemed still. He started to relax around you and there was a sore tension around your fingers as you pulled them out of him. You took your hand off his mouth and he rolled away from you, covered in sweat and a lovely trail of semen up his shirt.

He really looked like he was going to fall asleep, but he was more just catching his breath.

“So…” you started, still kneeling in front of him. “How was it?”

He almost pouted.

“Could you hold me?” he asked.

“Of course,” you said, smiling.

You rolled onto the bed, trying not to get too much of the stickiness of the lube on your hands on the bed, but realizing that you’d probably have to wash everything anyways. You slipped your arm under his torso, his body weight sinking deeply into the mattress. You wrapped both arms around him tightly, resting your head against his neck, cradling him like a little spoon. He pulled his knees up to his chest, lying comfortably. You relaxed like that for what seemed like minutes, just feeling the body heat on your face slowly dissipate into a graceful warmth.

[introloves]

Moments of Love. (m)

A collection of hybrid Yoongi drabbles.

Drabble no. 4

1 2 3

Pairing: Hybrid! Yoongi x Reader

Word Count: 2.3K

Genre: Fluff, Smut

Warnings: Dry humping, animalistic urges, fingering, squirting, mentions of insecurities, mention of inexperienced! reader

You sighed, content and warm against Yoongi’s side. His sleek, black tail and arm were wrapped around you protectively the screen from your TV barely illuminated his face but he looked wonderful. It had been weeks since you last hung out with him, both of your schedules barely fit any free time as of late. With the insane workload both of you had, you decided on simply staying in and watching Haikyuu!! in replacement of an outing, you were entangled with him on your couch.

His hand smoothed circles into yours, bringing it up to place kisses along your knuckles. You smiled up at him, taking that same hand which he kissed and curling it into his hair, touching his fluffy ears gingerly. He purred in return, closing his eyes to your touch. He had long been touch starved and while being with you he let himself be vulnerable, letting you touch the parts of him he had always kept guarded. His heart swelled with love as you touched him with care, like he was the most valuable thing in the world, and to you, Yoongi was.

“You make the cutest noises when you purr.” You giggled, drunk on his love. His nose whistled as he exhaled heavily, bones turned to mush as you continued petting him. His head turned the side, Yoongi nuzzled into your hand. You stretched up to place a kiss on his lips, and turned back to watch the TV.

Yoongi didn’t like that.

“Wait no, don’t stop kissing me.” 

 - - -

Laughing you rolled your eyes, once again stretching up to kiss him. He continued on, pressing his lips against yours, his tongue peeking out to swipe against your lower lip. Your face burned at the intensity and passion of it all, now he had you where he wanted you. His hands coming to card through your hair, neatly trimmed nails pressing against your scalp. They were so big and warm, you felt completely engulfed as you whimpered once he nipped your lower lip.

Pulling away to breathe, you took notice in the blush painting his face. God, you had never seen anything as attractive, his face glowed with the light provided by your TV his chest raised and lowered rapidly signaling he was just as affected by you as you were him.

“You’re awful.” You smiled, and he shook his head.

“Wanna know whats awful? I haven’t seen you in weeks and I get here and you’re in tiny ass shorts, and you’re at the peak of your ovulation.”

Your face literally flamed up at his words,

“Yoongi!” You squealed, Jesus you knew hybrids were extra receptive with hormones but you didn’t know they could smell that.

“What, there’s nothing wrong with that kitty, you just smell so fucking good.”

To make his point clear, he leaned down, nose buried into your neck his lips were so close to the valley of your chest, tickling you with every heady exhale. Once he got his fill of your scent he grabbed at you, hooking your thighs in his palms as he pushed you down against your couch cushions.

Your head raced at the sudden shift in position… maybe wearing your sleeping shorts and nothing underneath wasn’t the best idea for his sanity. Your hands came up to cover your face, not wanting him to see you from this position, he looked absolutely sexy hovering above you but you couldn’t promise that you looked good from his point of view.

He picked up on your insecurity, frowning at your hands blocking him from seeing your face.

“Baby, please, let me see you.” He whispered, coming down to kiss your hands.

Shakily, you removed them at his request. You looked up at him shyly, seeing nothing but a gleaming smile from him.

“There’s my girl, there’s my kitty.” You wanted to squeeze your thighs together at the praise, but his hips blocked you from doing so. He kneeled above you like a pillar, unmoving and so so close but not quite where you wanted him, a whimper left your mouth, you couldn’t say what you wanted him to do… your throat clenched up at the thought of the dirty words you so desperately wanted to say. You hoped with everything in you that the way you looked at him as he loomed over you, even if it was just ten percent of the want and need, conveyed well enough so that he would do something, you wanted Yoongi to please, “do more.”

He groaned, looking at your wide eyes looking up at him with a tentative longing. He continued on with his lips against yours, he knew you were shy so his plan was to simply work you up and after a couple of swipes against your tongue and quiet whimpers from your mouth he pressed against you. You gave way to his body, opening your legs for him, a silent plea for him to do more. As his mouth worked tirelessly against your own, his hips rutted against your heat, the sweatpants he was wearing and your shorts did nothing to dampen the feeling of his dick against your cunt. He was so hard, the feeling of your body soft and pliant underneath him had him groaning into your mouth. With the way you had begun to shift your hips to meet his rhythm, he was going to cum in his sweats. He lifted himself off you, taking in your appearance, your eyes fought to keep his stare and with a smile he decided that taking things slow would be for the best, he wanted so desperately to pin you to the couch and fuck you into it, but he knew building up to that would be best for now.

“Alright sweet girl, that’s enough.”

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, at this point the throbbing between your legs could be felt everywhere, you were sure if you didn’t cum you would die. Your whole being shaking almost violently against him as he held you down. The panting from both of you now very loud as you stared up at him in silence.

“W-what? Why?” You questioned, voice still coming out in a high pitched keen. Your heart sank, mind racing with the possibilities of why he didn’t wanna continue, your mind the most treacherous, could only think that you had somehow done something wrong. Maybe your body wasn’t desirable for him, maybe he didn’t find you attractive or didn’t want you. Of course that was the farthest truth, the way just kissing you had him hard and seconds away from cumming proved that point. His animalistic instinct was screaming at Yoongi to bury himself hilt deep and cum inside you, ruining your cunt and make you his.

This was the most dangerous game he could play, but if he took things slow he could control the urges he felt.

“Is it me?” You questioned, voice small and fragile. You had to blink away the tears that had formed against your eyelashes. You wanted to hide, cover yourself up and wash your arousal in the shower.

Yoongi’s eyes widened, while he was struggling to keep himself tame he had missed the way you had begun to shrink in on yourself.

“Oh no, no, no kitty its not you.” He responded, hand coming to cup the side of your face, careful to not press his still throbbing erection against you.

“It’s not you baby, its me.” He pressed a kiss to your cheek, thumb swiping at the tears.

“I have to take things slow with you, you drive me crazy. Everything in me is telling me to split you open on my dick.” He whispered.

“I want to flip you around and fuck you stupid, stretch you out and cum in your little cunt.”

You gasped at his words, he was sinking again, falling for the way your thighs tightened around his hips at your reaction.

“God I wanna fuck you so bad and stupid that you forget your name, forget everything except my name and how the only thing you can think of is me pinning you down and making you squirt on my dick.”

With that, you moaned out his name, your whole being shaking at the words coming out his mouth. Your underwear was ruined, and with those words you could feel the arousal smear against your thighs. You were so wet, so wet and wanted nothing more than Yoongi absolutely destroying you. You could say for a fact that you wanted that, everything he was saying you wanted him to do to you. But you knew that with your inexperienced body, it wouldn’t be as pleasurable as it would be in your head, you hated the fact that he was so level headed and thinking ahead at a time like this, maybe he was right but you didn’t care if it hurt.

With a shudder Yoongi took back the reigns,

“I’m walking a real fine line right now, y/n. The least you could do is not show so much… enthusiasm to me ruining you.”

You brought your hands up to your face in embarrassment, smiling slightly at being caught. His nose caught the way your body responded to his words, the smell of your arousal made his head spin. Yoongi could do nothing more but groan at your reaction, his body suddenly shifted down to press against you. His head nuzzled up against your neck, ears tickling your cheek.

“Okay, okay. Don’t worry kitty. I’m going to make you feel good.” He purred, now turning slightly to press his lips against your neck. He pulled soft moans from your mouth so easily as he worked up to your jaw. A big, rough hand trailed down your stomach, finding purchase against the juncture of your thigh and hip. His fingers playing with the waistband of your shorts, you shivered once he let them dip in.

You had never felt someone else’s touch against your pussy, the way he dragged his knuckle up and down your slit, teasing, had you sobbing. His mouth continued to work against your throat, his tongue swiping out to taste your skin.

“Y-Yoongi…” You cried as he felt you up, just barely ghosting his finger against your clit.

He chuckled, his chest was on you and you could feel his purr just about everywhere.

He decided to give you a small mercy, knowing just how wound up he had you, in a small motion he pressed the tip of his finger against your opening, the sound lewd once he began pumping in and out, giving you no warning. You could do nothing but cling on to him as he pushed another finger in, both long and thick, way thicker than your own. Filthy wet, squelching noises were heard from under your pleads. At this point you were babbling, tears prickled at your eyelashes and your head tilted back, every shout of his name did nothing more but spur him on. He wanted you to come undone.

“Cmon kitty, be a good girl and come on my fingers.” He growled, pushing them in further, his thumb now joining to draw circles against your clit. Your heels dug into the couch as the sensation of an orgasm fast approached, but the angle in which he was battering your pussy brought on a new sensation you had never experienced. Your body tensed up, wanting him to stop but fuck you harder at the same time.

“Oh god, oh god, oh god I’m cumming!”

You felt on fire, tensing up all at once, this orgasm took you by surprise at the sheer intensity, you could hear or see nothing as you clenched down on his fingers. It all felt too good. Your thighs tried closing down on him as you shook, your hips moving by themselves to rut against the palm of his hand. You felt so wet as you did, and as the peak of it all came down, your chest heaved.

Blinking away the fog that had clouded your brain you could see that he had sat up, no longer leaving hickies on your neck. Yoongi’s eyes were wide as he looked down at you, the hand he had been using to fuck you senseless was stilled inside your shorts. Shorts that were dark with your cum.

“Did I do that?”

Yoongi nodded, his own breathing ragged. The way the orgasm took you was just about the hottest thing he had ever seen.

“You literally squirted all over my hand.” He panted out, cheeks red with pure lust. Your eyes widened as you shifted down to look at what he had done to you. There was wetness everywhere, at that point you really wanted to just sink into the couch and die from the embarrassment. But Yoongi didn’t let you overthink anything as he slowly pulled his fingers out of you and up to his mouth, he greedily licked them clean.

“Next time you’re cumming in my mouth.” He said, still lewdly licking at his hand.

He made you feel sexy, not letting you get inside your own head or feel any shame about your body, you could melt under his gaze. Swallowing down your insecurities you pulled him down to smash your lips against his, tasting yourself on his tongue. Your fingers raked against his scalp and gently pulled at his ears, earning you a deep moan from him.

“I-I wanna suck you off.” You whispered against his lips. Yoongi simply smiled, “Not right now baby, I came in my pants thanks to you.”

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head at that, and Yoongi wrapped you up in his arms, deciding that the both of you could get cleaned up later.

[xjoonchildx]

airplane, pt. 2 | jjk x reader chapter three: koreatown

pairing: jungkook/reader

word count: 3.4K rating: 18+

genre: smut | silly smut | nonsensical smut

warnings:  criminal!jungkook, koreanamerican!jungkook, reality has left the chat, plausibility has left the chat

A/N: so...as i’m turning this PWP into a P “with” P i actually had to add some plot lol. i really hope you guys like the direction this story is taking and i’m starting to feel a bit more confident about how it’s going to end. but please let me know what you think, hearing from you guys makes my day. i’d love to know if you think the plot is making any sense.  i mean, as much sense as a story about jungkook as a super hot criminal robber on the run with a federal agent lover could possibly make, ya know?

xoxo

Chapter 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06

artwork by the shmexy @ppersonna​ who’s smut is even better than her art

***********************

A postcard comes in the mail seven weeks after San Juan.

Colorful block letters urge you to VISIT BELIZE over decorative shots of the country’s beautiful beaches and most visited spots.

The only thing that appears to be written on the card is your address. You examine it dozens of times, looking from front to back for any other marking. You come up empty.

There is one unusual thing you notice, though.  

The postmark.  

Clearly written at the top: Los Angeles 90005.

There’s no way this card was mailed out of Belize and there’s very little chance Jungkook managed to get back inside the country without setting off a thousand alerts on your phone.  

You assume he must have routed it through his parents.

You’ve tried so damned hard these past few weeks not to think about what happened in Puerto Rico.  You’ve tried to forget the full-body shock you experienced when he asked you to play along with his absurd fantasy.  You tell yourself there’s no way he could possibly believe that you would go on the run with him.  

But then you remember the look on his face.

Seeing this postcard -- holding it in your hands -- makes San Juan real again. It’s not some bizarre fever dream you had or some figment of your imagination.  The emotions it dredges up are uncomfortable to confront. 

Is he in trouble? Is he asking for help? What are you supposed to do with this?

Logically, you know there’s nothing you can do.  

So you slip the card into your bedside drawer and file the information away in that part of your brain that seems to now be dedicated to thinking about Jungkook Jeon full-time. 

************************

Over the next few weeks, two more cards arrive.

Guatemala.

Honduras.

That fake passport Jungkook apparently managed to get his hands on seems to be getting a workout.

Each time a new card comes in the mail -- always postmarked out of LA, the knot in your stomach seems to loosen.  He’s still going. He’s not locked away somewhere.  

Not yet, anyway.

You try to remind yourself that he’s smart -- really, really smart. He has a knack for staying under the radar. His Spanish is probably pretty decent at this point. He’s making or finding enough money to stay on the move.

Maybe he’s got a plan. Maybe he’s figured something out.

But it’s hard to keep the anxiety at bay. You watch your phone like a hawk, waiting to see an email or text saying he’s been caught.  You spend every day waiting for the other shoe to drop.  

So the cards go into your drawer -- and you get up and get dressed and go into the office every day like you’re not secretly rooting for the criminal so many of your colleagues are looking for.

*************************

The other shoe finally drops when you bump into Agent Novak in the cafeteria one afternoon. 

Novak is one of those guys who looks like he’s straight out of central casting on a crime show.  He has the appearance of a boxy, overgrown boy.  Always dressed in a muted grey suit, always sporting a military-grade short haircut.  The only thing that stands out on his completely non-descript face is his big mouth.

And right now you should be very glad for his big, fat mouth.

“You hear about your boy Jeon?” he asks, while piling his plate high with mac and cheese.  The hairs on the back of your neck stand on end for a moment at the mere mention of Jungkook’s name.

You move down the buffet line next to Novak slowly, the sudden adrenaline rush making your limbs feel weak and loose.

“Jeon?” you ask with feigned nonchalance. “Courthouse Houdini?”

“That’s the one,” Novak says, dropping two huge pieces of fried chicken onto his plate.  “My buddy in the Marshals says they’re pretty close to bringing that asshole in,” he continues, adding some crinkle fries into the mix for good measure.

God, you hope he doesn’t have a heart attack before you get all the information you need. 

He needs a trough, not a plate.

“Well, it’s about time,” you reply carefully and you hope it sounds convincing.   “Where?”

“Central America,” he says, reaching down to his plate to start picking off the crinkle fries one-by-one.  “Guatemala or some shit.”

A chill runs up your spine when you think about those postcards in your drawer. 

They’re close. 

They could be there right now.  

He could be in handcuffs again right now.

“Hope they have better luck than I did keeping him nailed down,” you say, willing your voice and face to stay even.

“Oh trust me,” he says, talking around a mouthful of crinkle fry. “They’re going to teach that motherfucker a lesson when they get their hands on him.  He won’t be able to walk, much less run.”

You swallow against the bile rising in your throat.

“That’s what he gets, right?”

Novak nods, grabbing for a chicken finger. You cringe when he shoves it into his mouth. Tiny pieces of the breading stick to his lips and you fight the urge to gag. 

God, has he always been such a pig?

“Damn straight.”

****************************

You circle the block three times before you feel comfortable enough to park.  

The neighborhood is quiet and clean and solidly middle-class.  The house you are looking for is neat and well-kept, lawn trimmed and flower beds nicely maintained. It looks like a nice place to live.

You cut the ignition and take a deep breath.

You have to remind yourself that Jungkook is not Al fucking Capone and there’s no reason for the government to have around-the-clock surveillance on his family home.  You have to maintain a level head even under this insane set of circumstances.

You try not to think about how furious he would probably be if he knew you were here right now.  

Maybe someday he’ll understand why you’re doing this.

Maybe someday you’ll understand why you’re doing this.

You’d worked late at the office, preferring to make this move when the sun went down.  You’re glad for the cover of darkness when you step out of your car and knock on the front door at the Jeon family home.

“Can I help you?” 

You take a deep breath when Mr. Jeon opens the front door. He has the same kind, handsome face as Jungkook, only his is weathered with age and worry.  

“Mr. Jeon, I need to speak with you about your son.”

His eyes widen for a moment. He seems to pull back and assess the way you’re dressed, figures out you’re one of those government-types.

“I’ve already said everything I have to say on the matter,” he says shortly, moving to shut the door.

“Wait, please,” you say urgently.  “I’m trying to help him, I swear. I can explain if you let me in.”

He stops for a moment, levels you with a critical look.

“I think he’s in trouble,” you say quietly.

Mr. Jeon sighs heavily before opening the door wide and letting you in.  

“I’m sorry to turn up at your home like this,” you say, moving immediately across the living room to close the blinds on all the street-facing windows.  “But I’m not sure how much time I have.”

He watches in total silence but you can see he’s unnerved.

“I’m just...being cautious,” you explain, and he nods.

Once you’re satisfied no one can see inside, you start to calm down a bit.  Mr. Jeon offers you a seat on the living room couch.

“This is a very strange situation, I know,” you admit. 

He remains mute and still, waiting for you to cough up some kind of explanation. 

“Do you know who I am?” you ask.

“No.”

His response is clipped and severe and you really can’t blame him.

“Okay,” you say, blowing out a breath. “Yes, I am with the FBI. But I --” you pause for a moment, grasping for a way to explain this bizarre situation. “ -- I know Jungkook.  Personally.”

Intimately. Biblically, as they say.

“Okay,” he says cautiously.

“I need you to get in touch with him because I think he’s going to be arrested. Soon.”

Mr. Jeon rubs a hand across the back of his neck.

“I don’t know where he is.  And I can’t get in touch with him,” he admits.  “He doesn’t want us to know where he is because then you people will have something to hold over us.”

You wince at the venom in that statement.

A faint voice from another room calls out.

“Excuse me for a moment,” Mr. Jeon says. 

He leaves you alone on the couch in the family room.

You wipe your sweaty palms on your dress pants as you take a look around.  The decor is soft and welcoming, with a few nods to Korea in the artwork on the walls.  It looks like a nice place to grow up, you think. The thought helps calm you.

He reappears after a minute.

“I’m sorry about that,” he says apologetically.  “I would really prefer my wife not know about this. This situation has already caused her a lot of pain.”

“Of course -- I understand,” you say quietly. “So you have no way to contact him?”

“No.  Not directly.”

“Then I need to know how you contact him indirectly.  He’s been sending me postcards somehow. Do you know who could be sending me postcards from him?”

His face falls a bit.

“I shouldn’t say.  I’m not trying to get anyone else in trouble.”

You lean forward a bit, fix him with a look that you hope conveys just how sincere you are about trying to help.

“I don’t want anyone else to get in trouble, either. But if you don’t give me that name, I promise you Jungkook will be. Please.”

Mr. Jeon sighs.

*****************************

You pull the brim of your baseball cap low over your eyes and adjust your sunglasses before walking into Min’s Market.

The small, family-owned store is in one of Koreatown’s most populated neighborhoods. You keep your head low as you dodge people on the sidewalk to make your way inside. An electronic chime sounds when you walk in.

The only thing you see in your quick glance around the store is a young man behind the register. He stands when you make eye contact and you take that as the go-ahead to approach.

He’s not a large guy by any means, but he definitely gives off a do not fuck with me vibe.  You straighten your spine and get right to the point.

“Are you Yoongi?”

“Nope.”

He’s lying, of course.  His eyes are narrowed at you beneath long black fringe bangs and you can’t blame his skepticism given the giant sunglasses and the hat and the workout clothes you’re hiding under.  You look like you’re trying way too hard not to be noticed.

“I need to talk to you about Jungkook,” you say anyway.

“Never heard of him.”

Okay, not entirely unexpected.  You’d come prepared for the possibility that he wouldn’t want to play ball.

You reach into your bag and pull out the postcards, drop them on the counter in front of him.

“You’ve been sending me these,” you say firmly. “And we need to talk.”

******************************

Yoongi takes you to the tiny office tucked into the back of Min’s Market.  The space is cluttered with invoices and notes written in Hangul.  There’s a monitor display where he can watch the surveillance cameras at the front of the store.

He motions for you to take a seat on the one small chair he has and opts to lean against the office desk, arms crossed.

“So you’re Carver Street, huh?”

You take your sunglasses off so you can look him in the eye.

“Yeah.”

“And you’re… a Fed.”

He delivers that line with a cynical twist to his mouth that makes you feel self-conscious.

“Yeah.”

“Shit’s wild,” he says, more to himself than to you.

“Yeah, wild,” you exhale nervously. “Look, I’m sure you don’t want to be involved here any more than you already are, so I’ll just come out with it,” you say.  “I need to get in touch with Jungkook.”

Yoongi rolls his eyes.  

“Look, I don’t know you, okay? Maybe he does, but I don’t.  And I’m not trying to be an asshole here, but I’m not going to give you that information.”

You rub at the corners of your temples with your fingers.

“You know he’s been reaching out to me. You know he trusts me.”

Yoongi snickers.

“We haven’t exactly had the chance to catch up over beers since this whole mess started.  The only thing I know for sure is that he wants you to get those postcards,” he says.

“Okay, okay, you’re right,” you concede.  “I’m pretty sure he’s in Honduras right now.  And I need you to reach him as fast as you can. Because they are closing in on him and I don’t know how long he’s got.”

Yoongi shoves a hand through his hair.

“Okay.  I’ll tell him.”

“How fast can you reach him?”

“Look, I said I’ll tell him, okay?”

You tell yourself to relax before you scare Yoongi off entirely.  It looks like his patience with you is already worn thin.

“Okay.  Please tell him to try to get to Nicaragua,” you say, careful to keep the agitation from creeping back into your voice.  “They have a history of denying extradition requests to the U.S.  It could buy us some time to figure out what to do.”

“Us?” 

Yoongi quirks an eyebrow at you, the corners of his mouth lifting in a barely-concealed look of astonishment. You feel the blush that spreads across your face all the way to the tips of your ears.

“Him,” you correct yourself awkwardly, “it could buy him some time to figure out what to do.”

He grabs a pen and scribbles on a sheet of paper on the desk.

“Nicaragua, okay. Got it.”

“And please -- if you can -- get him this,” you say, handing Yoongi your own slip of paper with a number written on it.  “It’s a burner.  In case he needs to get in touch.”

Yoongi takes the number from you and nods.

“Alright.”

You stand to leave, knowing you’ve taken as much of his time as you’re allowed.  

“One more thing and I promise you’ll never hear from me again,” you say, pointing to the monitor inside the office.

“Delete that,” you say. “Please.”

*************************************

You dig around in your cabinet until you find the wine glass you’re looking for -- the huge one -- and then you reach into the fridge for what’s left of your Sauvignon Blanc and dump it into that glass.

Nothing to do now but hope he gets the message in time.  

Nothing to do now but watch your work phone and see if he’s been arrested.

Nothing to do now but watch your burner phone to see if he’s contacted you.

It’s time to admit your nerves are shot.  Weeks of heightened anxiety are taking its toll and the past two days have felt like a marathon.  

You run a bath -- make sure the water is close to painfully hot before you sink into the tub.  Your body feels exhausted but your mind is still racing like you’ve shotgunned a cup of coffee.  

You lean your head back against the ledge of the bath and take a long drink of the wine.

What if he makes it to Nicaragua? What does that even mean? You buy a few more weeks of the same on-the-run bullshit and for what? 

What is the end game here? And for that matter why on earth are you doing any of this?

You barely know this man.  And now it’s starting to feel like you barely know yourself.

Your fingers and toes are pruny and the water is lukewarm at best when you finally crawl out of the tub.  You down the rest of your wine, throw a soft t-shirt on and fall into the bed.

All night you toss and turn and when you finally wake it’s like you never slept at all.

****************************

It’s a few days before you see Novak again.  

You happen to overhear his obnoxiously loud laugh just outside your office and your entire body jolts to attention.  

You jump up from your desk and peer outside.

Novak is busy chatting up a woman who works a few spaces down, no doubt boring her with unwanted banter about his weekend.  He happens to look up and you motion for him to come over. 

“Hey, yeah, I’ll be right there,” he says, and you head back to your desk on leaden legs.

Maybe he knows something, maybe he doesn’t.  

You’ve got to figure out how to walk the line between interested in the search for Jungkook but not too interested. Thankfully, Novak doesn’t strike you as the type to pick up on the subtleties of most interactions.  If he was, he’d stop bugging that woman right away.

He knocks loudly on your open door when he finally makes his way over.

“Hey,” he grins widely. “What’s up?”

“Hey,” you smile back, feeling a cold panic spread across your chest.  Maybe you’re not ready to hear what he has to say. 

“I was wondering if your buddies ever caught up to Jeon.”

“Man listen,” Novak says, helping himself to a chair. “You are not going to believe this shit.”

Your fingernails grip your legs underneath the desk, dig painfully into the skin just above your knees through the thin fabric of your pants.

“Did he...get away, again?” you ask, desperate to keep a note of hope out of your voice.

“Yup,” Novak confirms.  “Piece of shit cleared out by the time the Marshals they sent down there managed to get to where he was. Some place in Honduras or something.”

Novak shakes his head.

“My buddies are sick of looking for his ass at this point. At some point they’ve got to call it off, right?”

You can barely register a thing he’s saying because oh my god he made it out.

“Wow,” you manage, trying to appear appropriately sympathetic and outraged. “That’s unbelievable.”

“Yeah so,” Novak says, “back to the drawing board on that one, I guess.”

You’re forced to sit through a few more minutes of his blabber and small talk but all you can think about is Jungkook making it out in time.  All you can think about is getting back to your house and to that burner phone.

When Novak finally stands to leave, you nearly sigh out loud with relief.

“Hey, good luck to your buddies, yeah?  That’s got to be pretty frustrating,” you say, walking him out the door. 

“Yeah, I’ll pass the message along,” he says. “I’m sure you’re just as ready as they are to see this guy get what he deserves.”

You smile weakly.

“Oh, definitely.”

***************************

You make a beeline for the ladies room and walk right into a stall.  

Once inside, you drop the seat lid and sit on top, desperate for just one moment to be alone with your thoughts.

He made it out.  He’s not in custody.  Maybe there’s a way to fix this entire mess.

Then you fall apart. 

You’ve reached the limit of what you can handle without some kind of emotional release.  The panic and the anxiety and the relief and the hope come together and boil over inside you.

The tears start coming and they don’t stop. 

You have to flush the toilet three times to cover the sound of your sobs.

***************************

You race home from the office and practically dive for the burner phone in your nightstand.  The entire drive back, you’ve told yourself not to expect a message.

It’s entirely possible he doesn’t want to contact you.  

It’s entirely possible that he doesn’t have anything to say to you after the way you left things in San Juan.  You tell yourself to be ready to see absolutely nothing when you check the burner.

But when you do unlock the phone, you find a waiting text.  You steel yourself for what he has to say.

nicaragua is boring [ 3:15 PM ]

send nudes [ 3:15 PM ]

You laugh.  

You laugh for so hard and so long your tears gather in the corner of your eyes.  You laugh until your sides start to hurt from the absolute absurdity.  

It’s so him that you have to laugh.

That night, when you fall into bed you sleep an inky black sleep, without dreams or interruptions.  

It’s the best rest you’ve gotten in weeks.

************************

[pinky-the-elephant-room]

Rejuvenate

AN: @liliesoftherain​ @keishiins​ I’m reuploading this because Tumblr hates my guts. I got the idea from Ronda Rousey stating before her matches she would have intense sex with her husband. I was intrigued with the idea and wondered how many athletes do the same thing? Anyway enjoy this request

❉ Warnings: Praise Kink, Sub Bokuto, Bondage, and little bit of Breeding kink at the end? Bokuto x Fem Reader.

❉ Disclaimer: Sex is not a cure for mental illness. Since we don’t know why Bokuto has mood swings I played around with the idea. Please don’t take this seriously.

❉ Summary: As part of the Jackals, Bokuto no longer had the luxury of messing about in this matches. But little did his teammates know he had someone special picking up the slack at home.

❦❦❦❦❦❦❦

t’s not until you lose something that you start appreciating it for what it was. For Bokuto, it was his team, and more specifically, it was his setter Akaashi. He never realized how bothersome his mood swings were because he was too busy dwelling on his emotions. But when he started playing professionally, Bokuto no longer had the luxury of his teammates looking after him anymore. Technically, Tsum Tsum did his best (best meaning he just ignored him until Bokuto’s mood settled), but he was unsatisfied. He was starting to hate that the tiniest things would unsettle him and affect his play.  

He tried everything from calming teas and even listening to rain ASMR before falling asleep. But his mood swings kept happening. Bokuto was at the end of his rope so much so he decided to visit Akaashi at his college. He had sent him a text letting him know he would drop by; hopefully, his old teammate would have something for him.

The university itself was pretty large and was known to attract international students from across the globe. Even now, Bokuto could see several foreigners staring at him in curiosity, but he just shrugged it off, thinking it was his eccentric hair (but really, it was his frantic pacing).

His face brightened when he saw his friend leisurely walking towards him.

“Bokuto-san, how have you been?” Akaashi inquired.

“Akaashi! Your school is so cool! I should come here more often,” Bokuto said while excitingly looking left to right.

“Please don’t,” murmured Akaashi, who was promptly ignored by Bokuto.

“Keiji! I thought I told you to wait for me,” a feminine voice called out.

Bokuto turned around to see a girl with a womanly figure walking towards them.

“Gomen, Y/N. I thought you already went back to class,” Akaashi replied to the girl.

Bokuto looked at her fascinatingly. She was beautiful, to be frank, and her beaming smile radiated happiness.

“Oh, who’s this?” she asked, looking at Bokuto directly, making him more nervous than he had felt in a while.

Akaashi turned to Bokuto only to narrow his eyes at his smitten face.

“This is Bokuto Koutaro. He was the captain of the volleyball team I was on in high school.”

She let out an excited gasp. “The Bokuto? The one you comp-“

“Anyway, this is Akaashi Y/N. She’s my cousin,” Akaashi cut in, confusing Bokuto.

Y/N sent a teasing smile to Akaashi.

“Our mothers are identical twins, and we were born in the same year. So, we’re more like siblings than anything. I should be calling him Keiji-ni, actually. It’s nice to meet you, Bokuto-san!”

Cousins? Now that she was closer, he could see the resemblance. They had the same dark hair and bright blue sharp eyes. But Y/N’s hair was longer coming down to her waist, and her eyebrows were neatly trimmed, unlike Akashi's. She also had the pinkest pair of lips Bokuto ever had the pleasure of seeing, or was that makeup? To be honest, he could never tell.

“What do you think, Bokuto-san?” Y/N asked him hopefully.

She had asked him a question which Bokuto wasn’t even listening to. Too busy staring at her animated face the entire time.

“Not today, Y/N. Maybe some other time. Go to class,” Akaashi said, almost sternly.

She pouted and said, “Fine! I’ll see you later, Bokuto-san.”

Y/N bowed politely, to which Bokuto scrambled to return before she walked away.

Akaashi muttered, “Don’t even think about it. She’ll eat you alive.”

His yellow eyes still on the retreating figure of Y/N, Bokuto distractedly replied, “what do you mean by that?”

His former teammate opened his mouth to say something but changed his mind.

“Do what you like, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Bokuto should have listened to the almost ominous warning by his friend, but he was too excited.

“You mean it?! Can you give me Y/N’s number then?”

Akaashi grimaced; nevertheless, he fetched his phone before complying with his former captain’s request. The two friends talked for a while before Akaashi had to leave for his class. By the time Bokuto had arrived at his lonesome apartment, he had realized he had forgotten to ask Akaashi for the advice he initially sought out him for.

Still, he considered the day to be productive and successful while staring goofily at Y/N’s number.

Over the next couple of weeks, Y/N and Bokuto exchanged texts. When he had first texted her, she was cordial and pleasant.  As his interest became fairly apparent over time, Y/N responded to it with the utmost enthusiasm. Thankfully, Akaashi didn’t seem too opposed to it; instead, he made Bokuto promise to treat his cousin well. They had been dating for only a month when she asked him to take it a bit further. He honestly thought she was a virgin and was quite speechless at her question. Y/N was a petite and genial individual; in fact, Bokuto often worried that he would eventually drive her away with his boisterous attitude. And so, he was adamant about taking it slowly with Y/N. Only for her to flip the script and proposition him.

❦❦❦❦❦❦❦

“Did you have fun?” he asked earnestly after another date,

“Of course! Next weekend I'm free, so we should go out again,” Y/N replied cheerfully, swinging their interlocked hands.

Bokuto watched her closely and leaned in for a kiss.

She didn’t back down and instead tugged him closer. Their lips connected just barely before she moved back, but it was enough to entice him.

“Bokuto-kun, do you wanna come in? My roommate’s with her family for the weekend,” Y/N proposed.

He swallowed nervously and nodded. Her dorm was a standard two-room affair but standing in there, Bokuto felt such dread and excitement in the pit of his stomach.

Y/N took her time while removing her hoody before, with a teasing smile, she tried to help remove his jacket.

“You’ll get hot if you keep this on,” she cooed while pulling down his zipper.

Bokuto’s heart started racing out of control when he felt her small hands unashamedly caress his toned upper body in the guise of removing his jacket.

He distinctly heard something hitting the wooden floor but was way too preoccupied with helping Y/N unbuckle his belt to notice.

That night Bokuto was never so glad in his life to be wrong. She was no virgin. The way she roughly yanked his hair and demanded him to be faster and harder. It was hard to imagine Y/N not having prior experience. Despite him clearly being on top, it felt like she oversaw the entire affair. The praises that spilled from her mouth each time a particular thrust compelled her to see stars caused him to feel like he just scored a winning point in the finals. Her sleek legs that wrapped around him prompted him to renew his smooth but rough rhythm. Y/N eventually kept having to rewrap her legs each time he pulled out before she gave up and just splayed her legs to the side. That made it easier for him to reenter but strained Y/N’s muscles. She didn’t seem to care too much, though, as her nails embedded into his back. Bokuto lost count after her sixth orgasm and his fourth. The night continued into the early dawn. He barely slept, yet he found himself not caring after possibly having the best sex of his life.

❦❦❦❦❦❦❦

Bokuto felt at ease as the whistle blew and signaled the end of the match. The Jackals bowed to their devoted fans, and he could feel his teammates’ eyes on him subconsciously. Tsum Tsum was whispering lowly to Sakusa, who didn’t seem to be paying too much attention to whatever Tsum Tsum was saying. Even Hinata seemed subdued despite them winning the game. But Bokuto wasn’t bothered; he was satisfied. Y/N was out there in the bleachers waiting for him. Now that he won, she owed him a night of relaxation and back massages.

Even in the locker room, it was hushed, and only the bangs of the lockers resonated in the quiet.

Bokuto turned around when he felt someone tug at his uniform.

“Oh, Hinata! Good game, and that smash at the end was great. But you still have a long way to go before you can catch up to your teacher,” Bokuto loudly complimented while slapping Hinata’s back harshly.

“Ne, Bokuto-san, can I ask you something?” Hinata nervously inquired as he rubbed his back.

Bokuto looked at the younger boy and realized he was acting weird. Hell, he could tell all his teammates were listening to their conversation inconspicuously.

So, he just shrugged and motioned Hinata to go ahead.

“How come you’re so focused nowadays?”

Bokuto could almost hear the underlying question, ‘why haven’t you turned into emo Bokuto lately?’

Tsum Tsum, who had a towel in hand on route to shower, stopped to listen in. Even Sakusa, with his wet hair, stood by and didn’t seem to be in a hurry to leave.

“Well, Hinata...” Bokuto began as his thoughts drifted back to last night.

They stumbled blindly through his dark apartment, not bothering to turn on the lights. Y/N let out a shriek of delight when Bokuto hoisted her into his arms and went straight to his bedroom.

He pushed back her hair and sucked wherever her neck was visible.

“Y/N, babe, want you right now. No. I need you,” Bokuto corrected amid his trailing kisses.

She grabbed the back of his dyed hair and pulled.

“On the bed then. I’ll grab my goodies,” Y/N encouraged.

He cocked his head in confusion at the mention of goodies but tugged off his shirt and shorts in a hurry. Bokuto tossed his clothes somewhere at the side of the bed, where he could find them easily in the morning before making himself comfortable on his bed. He could hear her fiddling in his bathroom but waited patiently. Y/N always rewarded him whenever he did precisely what she asked of him.

She stepped out of the bathroom, hiding something behind her back.

“Oh, did you start the party early?” she asked, eyeing his naked body with amusement and hunger.

“Yeah, but I’d rather you take off your clothes and join me,” Bokuto replied as he pointedly stared down at her white wrap dress.

“One sec. Let me show you my present.”

Y/N presented him with two pairs of silver handcuffs.

Bokuto tried to play it off coolly, but he didn’t think he managed as her cheeky grin widened at his flustered composure.

Y/N got on his bed and ordered, “Sit back. I want to see how good it looks on you.”

She didn’t even need to say please as he hurried to do what she asked. Placing a quick kiss on his forehead, she managed to get both his hands cuffed and attached to the bed frame separately.

“Now, the real fun begins. Do you trust me?”

“Do you even need to ask?” Bokuto joked.

While sliding down his body to make herself comfortable, she pushed his chest back down.

His soft member laid against his thighs. Which he supposed that Y/N wasn’t satisfied with because she immediately went to work.  

Y/N started by placing her hands on his firm thighs to which in turn made Bokuto jolt. But settled down at the soothing touch of her slender hands. Slowly but surely, she started to blow on his member. Feeling her hot breath, he shivered and clutched the bed sheets. It seemed like Y/N was in a playful mood, and that usually meant Bokuto was in for a long night.

That grip only got tauter when she started doing eskimo kisses to his cock.

Bokuto let out a low “fuck” when he felt tentative kitten licks while she traced the throbbing, purple veins along his shaft.

Y/N pulled back his foreskin to reveal the head. She rubbed the tip spreading the watery precum before sucking. She reveled in the familiar intoxicating taste and then swallowed him whole until his cock hit the back of her throat. Feeling the need to gag, Y/N took his member out of her mouth.

“Ko-kun, you taste so good. Maybe I should keep this up all night?”

“No, don’t,” he gasped.

Bokuto let out a groan when he tried to pull Y/N’s hair to make her take him deeper. But the handcuffs prevented him from doing so.

She let go of his cock entirely and shimmed out of her dress. Her bra and panties were next to go, and Bokuto’s eyes never strayed from the moment she started getting undressed. Y/N made herself comfortable and settled on top of his right thigh.

He felt his thigh’s muscle flex instinctively when he felt the soft lips and coarse trimmed hairs of her cunt. She already complimented him multiple times on how much she appreciated his physique. But she was paying extra attention to his bottom half tonight, apparently.

Unfortunately, his situation only got worse with her grinding against his thigh.

“Please, babe. I- I can’t wait,” he stuttered, which was an accomplishment of itself.

Y/N only laughed and said, “Come on, Ko-kun. You can do better than that. Remember last time how you begged so nicely? You can do it again.”

Bokuto imagined her swollen clit sliding along his bare skin. Which, he wasn’t wrong about because each time her center dragged against his leg, it wasn’t hard to notice the wetness she left behind.

“Ko-kun, should I just get myself off like this and leave you handcuffed until the morning?” Y/N asked wickedly.

“Don’t you dare-,” he started but let out a yelp when she pinched his inner thigh.

“Don’t be rude! I was just kidding, but I might do it for real,” she warned as she aggressively humped his thigh.

“F-fuck! Fuck!”

Oh god, he definitely felt the fluid dripping down from her cunt now. Bokuto could even hear the wet squelching sounds as she slid back and forth.

“Ko-kun, I wanna ride your face,” Y/N panted.

Bokuto’s eyes lit up, and he replied, “Are you going to uncuff me?”

“Nah, I think you’ll do fine just like this.” She didn’t say anything more as she leisurely crawled up his body.

Usually, he would have held onto her thighs while she sat on his face. But now, he could not do much once he caught a whiff of Y/N’s distinct scent. When her pussy was near enough, he licked the puffy clit that stood out so readily. Perhaps that was all the encouragement she needed because soon Y/N was aggressively shoving herself into his face.

“That’s it. Lick it all up. Don’t let a single drop go to waste,” she cried out while simultaneously pulling his hair.

He could barely breathe from her cushy thighs and the way her hands purposely kept him in one place. But god Bokuto loved it whenever she got like this. He could tell from her unsteady movement and the heavy breathing, Y/N was close. Laying his tongue flat, he licked from top to bottom and finally inserting the tongue inside her cunt. She lost her mind, convulsing uncontrollably.

“Fuck me! I-I’m going to cum.”

Y/N started enthusiastically grinding, and suddenly, an outpour of watery fluid started running down his cheeks. Her soft moans escalated to piercing screams before yielding to the spellbinding ecstasy.  Bokuto helped her ride it out by slowly sucking on her clit.

“Ko-kun, stop... Too much,” Y/N whimpered, pushing his face away from her overwhelmed pussy.

She scooted back a few inches and collapsed on top of his chest, trying to recuperate from her intense orgasm.

“Y/N, how did I do? Tell me.”

“Yeah, you were amazing. You were such a good boy.”

He felt lighthearted and incredible despite his erection still being prominent to the point of almost being painful.

Bokuto attempted to turn Y/N on her side so he could enter from that angle, but the handcuffs once again stopped him. He turned wide-eyed, totally forgetting about the cuffs attached to the headboard.

“Y/N help me out here,” he asked, kissing her sweaty hair.

She snapped out of her exhaustion to grab a pair of small keys on the nightstand. Y/N soon freed his hands, and he noticed his wrists were red from the metal straining against his skin.

Bokuto positioned Y/N in such a way that she lay on her side but was facing him. Her bangs were damp with sweat and stuck to her forehead. Still, she was visibly glowing, just like she always does after their sessions.

“My turn, ok?” he murmured, leaving love bites on her humid neck.

Sliding one leg in between her legs, he then encouraged Y/N to encircle his hip over the leg he just slid in.

Now Bokuto could easily clutch her firm butt while kissing her lips. With an erection that was now beginning to purple, he decided he had waited enough. With one swift nudge, her sopping entrance gave away to his cock.

“So good. I—” she stuttered as he hammered away. “Yes. So good.”

Y/N tucked her face away in his neck.

“You’re doing amazing. Keep going just like that, babe.”

His breath hitched at the ongoing praises, Bokuto’s skin becoming more heated by the second. His heartbeat racing out of control and tingles resonating down his back.

“I’m close. Gonna cum,” he groaned.

With a sensation that started at the base of his length before it coursed throughout his entire cock, the closer he got. Then as Bokuto got to the point of no return, he could no longer contain the inevitable release. He couldn’t control himself as his eyes shut and his body started shaking. He almost wished he could recount the entire experience, but Bokuto himself had blacked out right after he spilled inside of her.

He later would open his eyes to his body still on the side and entangled with Y/N. The deep-seated satisfaction from knowing he ejaculated inside of her left him bone-tired but rejuvenated at the same time. In no way were they ready for a pregnancy but god damn it if the thought didn’t leave him content beyond comprehension.  

Bokuto snapped out of his flashback to Hinata, still looking at him expectantly.

And with a smirk that was uncharacteristic of him, Bokuto said, “Let’s just say I have a girlfriend who’s been taking real good care of me before each game.”

[tumbleweed-palmer]

Unexpected: Jimmy Palmer x Original Character

I am having to repost all my fics because tumblr terminated my old blog. So here we go spamming up the Jimmy Palmer tag.

=======

Jimmy Palmer could admit he’d never found himself too annoyed by Tony Dinozzo. In fact, Jimmy was usually capable of dealing with Tony’s less than mature behavior without becoming too frustrated or too flustered.

Jimmy had long ago learned to take Tony’s immature comments and his habit of being far too nosy about his coworker’s personal lives with good stride. He’d learned to brush off the comments and the jokes. To be honest, Jimmy had always been somewhat fond of Tony’s tendency to give him a hard time.

It felt more like the actions of an older brother pestering a younger sibling, than anyone with any ill intentions. Jimmy had no older siblings, only a younger sister. So, really it just felt like Tony was a big brother of sorts, giving Jimmy a hard time and harassing him because he cared. Jimmy knew the moniker of “Autopsy Gremlin” or the sarcastic comments and jokes weren’t meant to be cruel. He knew that deep down Tony didn’t mean any disrespect.

Lately though it was becoming harder and harder for Jimmy to brush off Tony’s comments and his bad habit of attempting to shove his nose where it didn’t belong.

Today had been particularly brutal, all thanks to an unfortunately noticeable dark bruise along Jimmy’s neck. Anyone with any social awareness would easily be able to deduce exactly just how Jimmy had gotten these marks along his neck. Most people would spot a bruise along someone’s neck and would know it meant one thing and one thing only.

Most people though wouldn’t have the audacity to mention it. Tony Dinozzo wasn’t most people.

Tony had been quite loud about pointing out the large hickey along Jimmy’s neck and he’d done it at a crime scene of all the places to possibly bring it up.

Jimmy’s cheeks had flushed a deep shade of scarlet as Tony had spotted the hickey unable to resist himself. “Jeez Palmer, what happened to you? Did you use a vacuum cleaner or did you manage to actually find a lady gremlin to do that for you? That thing is huge. I don’t know if I should be disgusted or impressed. I’m dying to know just where she learned to do that, because I’m assuming you didn’t teach her.”

Jimmy had resisted the urge to drown himself in the lake Dr. Mallard and he’d been retrieving a body from as he’d squeaked out an “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Though by the way Jimmy had pulled the collar of his jumpsuit up in a poor attempt to hide the lovebite along his neck, it had been quite obvious to everyone that Jimmy knew exactly what Tony was talking about.

Thankfully Tony had dropped the subject fast becoming distracted by Gibbs’ less than pleased expression, but the entire situation had still been so mortifying.

This wasn’t the first time anyone had spotted a little lovebite along Jimmy’s neck over the course of the past year, and it wasn’t the first time Tony had something to say about it. It was still none the less absolutely horrifying for Jimmy.

Each time Tony mentioned a lovebite along Jimmy’s neck, Jimmy died a little inside.

As the day had worn on so had Tony’s prodding and needless to say Jimmy was more than ready to get far far away from NCIS headquarters and he hoped and prayed he’d have the entire weekend to suppress the memory of any of this ever happening.

Jimmy had worked far too late for a Friday night and he was more than ready to get out of the building as Tony approached him at the elevator looking all too much like a shark that had spotted a pool of blood.

“In a rush to get home Palmer?”

Jimmy cleared his throat trying to pretend that he wasn’t frantically pushing the up button on the elevator as though that would make his only form of escape arrive any quicker. “It’s Friday.”

“Got big plans for the weekend? I’ve always been curious, just what does an Autopsy Gremlin do on the weekend? I’m almost afraid to ask.” Tony commented, working his way up to the main punchline.

Jimmy shrugged his shoulders trying to play it cool. “Just a quiet weekend, nothing exciting.”

“Nothing exciting huh? I hope whoever gave you that little lovebite on your neck isn’t disappointed to hear that you don’t think they were exciting. I’m a little worried about just what you consider exciting if you didn’t find the process of getting that thing to be thrilling.” Tony pointed out while watching Jimmy squirm.

Jimmy groaned at this trying his best to play dumb in hopes this conversation would die. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Uh huh.” Tony responded not shying away from giving Jimmy a pat on the back before he spoke again.

It’s nothing to be ashamed of Palmer, It’s only a little gross when I think about it. I’m actually kind of impressed. You did the impossible, you got a girl to do that for you and it’s not even the first time it’s happened. You can’t blame me for being curious. The Autopsy Gremlin is getting some sweet sweet loving and I have to know just what she looks like, it is a she right? If not, I don’t judge. I would just be surprised to find you swing that way, especially after the whole Agent Lee thing. Are you having an office romance again? I’m guessing not, since I haven’t noticed you getting any attention from any of the ladies at NCIS, which means that Lady Gremlin doesn’t work here.”

Jimmy let out a sigh of relief as the elevator doors finally swung open, Jimmy escaping into the safe confines of the elevator so relieved that Tony didn’t follow him.

He spoke frantically pushing the close door button. “I gotta go, have a good weekend Tony.”

Jimmy closed his eyes, a heavy sigh of relief leaving him as he was finally left alone safe from Tony until next week.

A little voice in the back of his head was all too quick to speak Oh, if Tony only knew.

Jimmy had never meant for it to be like this. He’d never been the best at lying. Or, at least people told him he was a bad liar.

Maybe he wasn’t such a bad liar though, after all he’d been living a lie at work for a year now. He’d been lying to his coworkers for so long that his lies felt like truths at this point.

Jimmy’s personal life had become a well kept secret from the vast majority of his coworkers and Jimmy knew if the truth came out then Tony Dinozzo would kill him.

Jimmy had to believe though that the risk of death was well worth it. Olivia Dinozzo was so worth the risk of imminent death.

He hadn’t known exactly who she was when they’d first met on this elevator only a year before.

Olivia, or Liv as she preferred to be called had kind of stuck out like a sore thumb at NCIS headquarters.

They had met in the most unassuming of ways. The elevator had stopped at the first floor and Liv had stepped on wearing a visitors badge.

Jimmy had been hers in an instant and she hadn’t even known it. He’d glanced over at her and he couldn’t look away.  

The thin straps of the deep purple dress she’d been wearing hadn’t done a thing to hide her figure, at least when it came to cleavage.  The dress’ paisley print and loose flowing fabric had made her look more like she should be hanging out at a farmers market or making flower crowns in a field somewhere and not standing in a tiny elevator with a flustered Jimmy Palmer.

He’d been able to spot heavy looking turquoise earrings even through the thick strands of her long dark hair. The silver bangles on her wrist and the heavy gem ring on her finger had only made her look more like a freespirit and less like someone that should be visiting NCIS headquarters.

Her nails were kept trimmed and neat and painted with a dark blue polish. Her makeup was kept minimal with only a dusty pink lipstick on her lips. Her skin looked soft and milky and she smelled like a mixture of lavender and patchouli. A year later Jimmy would begin to associate the smell with her and the warmth he felt anytime she was close to him.  From their very first meeting he'd been just as captivated by that scent though.

Jimmy didn’t think anyone could blame him for admiring her. She was a gorgeous woman and Jimmy was a young single man with a pulse. He was going to notice a pretty girl standing so close to him on an elevator.

She honestly did take his breath away. It was her eyes that had really done it, those big blue eyes that had made him melt and made her almost resemble a little doll. She was a petite thing really, the top of her head reaching his chest. He was pretty sure he’d easily be able to rest his chin on top of her head if she were to stand cradled against him. She seemed so delicate. There was something about her that had made Jimmy want to wrap himself around her and protect her.

She would later explain to him that she’d actually done ballet as a child and had been pretty gifted until she’d torn a tendon in her ankle that killed her ballet career. Her petite stature had caused people to push her towards ballet insisting her body was suited for it. To her credit she had managed to become a talented dancer although she didn't think being petite had aided into that. She did joke puberty and the development of curves had hindered her career long before she’d screwed up her ankle. He could remember her comment “I already had being on the short side working against me, then I got boobs and a butt and I decided I better start turning my attention to painting and photography instead of dance. I got the impression that my career was over long before I messed up my ankle. People were pretty fast to tell me that my body wasn't so suited for dance after I hit puberty hard. My ankle injury gave me an excuse to change my path.”

Jimmy had clung onto that story just as eagerly as he’d clung on to every other word she’d ever said to him over the past year.

Although back then standing in that elevator heading up to the fourth floor, Jimmy would have found it unimaginable to even believe for a second that he would ever have the opportunity to cling on to every word she said.

To say that he was attracted to her from the moment he’d laid eyes on her would be a vast understatement.

She of course had noticed he was staring and she hadn’t been shy to turn her head to face him raising a well manicured eyebrow questioning his obvious gawking.

Jimmy had managed to work the words from his throat, automatically thinking he felt like a moron at his choice in words. “Visiting?”

He’d almost wished he could toss himself down the elevator shaft at the realization of the words that had left him. A voice in the back of his head had been so quick to taunt him “Way to sound nosy and accusatory. You might as well have yelled: you don’t belong here. Nice going, she probably thinks you’re a classist asshole. She has a visitors badge clipped to her dress of course she’s visiting, not that it’s any of your business.’’

Much to his shock and disbelief she hadn’t taken his comment as him being rude. Instead she’d given him a sweet little smile that had made him all the more hers. “Yes, is it really that obvious? I’m actually making a surprise visit to my brother. He’s not expecting me until next week. I’m just hoping he’s not too busy. I know his schedule is a little odd. It’s just been a while since I last saw him. So I thought I’d surprise him at work.”

She’d paused raising an eyebrow at Jimmy’s usual work uniform of pale blue scrubs. She spoke up before Jimmy had a chance to ask about her brother. “Do you work here?”

Jimmy felt the words leave him ignoring the voice that told him he was babbling like an idiot and stumbling over his own words. “Yes, I uh...I w-work in Autopsy actually. I’m the assistant medical examiner….I’m still in school so I can’t really call myself a medical examiner until I pass my licensing exam. So, for now I-I’m just assisting our lead medical examiner Dr. Mallard. I’m usually down there in the basement. I just, I was coming upstairs to use the vending machines in the breakroom on the fourth floor. The vending machine in the basement always steals my dollars and I uh, I thought a soda sounded better than instant coffee.I had an early morning with a body pickup...so, uh, yeah...I-I work here.”

He bit the inside of his cheek to shut himself up knowing he was giving her far more information than she ever asked for. Why was he such an oversharer? He’d always been like this. He could get anxious and he’d find himself unable to stop talking. He never knew how to just sit quietly with his own thoughts.

He was stunned that she didn’t shut down the conversation at the mention of autopsy or a body pickup. Though her eyes did grow a little wide at the concept of just what he did for a living. Much to his shock she spoke the sweet smile not straying from her lips even though it had weakened just a bit as she took in his comments. “Oh, instant coffee is the worst.”

He parted his lips wanting to say something more, anything to keep her talking to him. He wanted to ask her about her brother or hell even ask her for her name.

All of his questions were answered as the elevator stopped at the fourth floor and both Jimmy and his companion stepped out into the passageway.

Jimmy watched stunned as the young woman he’d been so shamelessly admiring tackled the last person Jimmy had ever been expecting into a tight hug.

Ziva and McGee watched just as stunned as Jimmy as Tony lifted the girl from the ground, a foreign look of paternal adoration crossing Tony’s features. The girl giggled clearly accustomed to this type of treatment.

Tony spoke still holding her up ignoring his gawking coworkers. “I thought you weren’t coming until next week?”

She spoke as he finally placed her back on the ground, she straightening out her dress and her purse. “I found an earlier flight for much cheaper. I had demote down from first class but I didn’t mind. Pretzels and soda are just as good as pretzels and champagne even if the seats were a little smaller and I didn’t have as much leg room. My suitcases are downstairs in my rental car and the rest of my belongings are still due to arrive next week unless the movers really screw something up. I’ve already signed the lease on my apartment but I’ve got a hotel in the meantime.”

“You don’t have to stay in a hotel. I have a sofa.” Tony insisted a laugh leaving her as she rolled her eyes clearly resistant to this offer.

“The last time I slept on your futon I had sore hips for days. I think I prefer an actual bed and room service over a futon and cold pizza which I would have to pick all the meat off of in hopes I don’t get sick.” She remarked Tony letting out a scoff at the comment.

He cleared his throat finally noticing they had an audience. He spoke nodding down to her and to Ziva and McGee. “Probie, Ziva, this is my little sister Olivia Dinozzo.”

“Liv, please. Everyone calls me Liv.” She insisted giving a small wave.

“I did not realize you have a sister Tony.” Ziva admitted Mcgee fast to speak up, confirming. “Yeah, you’ve never mentioned it. I thought you were an only child.”

Liv spoke explaining everything. “I’m his half sister. Same dad, So, both progeny of Dinozzo Senior. My mother was his second wife, but not for more than two years. I was a bit of a surprise baby, Tony was already out of the house for most of my childhood. I’ve been living across the country for a few years now and before that I wasn’t even in the United States. I’m a freelance photographer and I’ve done a lot of photography for travel magazines and brochures so I’ve always been on the move. I’ve recently been hired for a teaching position at a community center though, so I’ve settled into the area.”

Tony finally took notice of Jimmy’s presence, taking notice that the young man was still gawking at events that had just taken place. “Autopsy Gremlin, who let you out of the basement? Shoo, get out of here. Don’t make me get a spray bottle after you again.”

Jimmy felt his cheeks flush, he hating that little nickname for the first time ever. Liv thankfully didn’t seem amused by the comment, rolling her eyes giving her brother a nudge as she spoke to Ziva, McGee, and Jimmy. “I am so sorry you all have to work with my brother.”

No one had a chance to respond as Tony spoke, shoving the files he’d been holding all too roughly into McGee’s arms. “Be nice, I'm buying your lunch. I’ll even find a place that serves tofu and lettuce.”

She let out a huff apparently well versed in this conversation. “Just because I’m a vegetarian doesn’t mean my entire diet only consists of tofu and lettuce.”

Jimmy watched hopelessly as Liv left following along behind Tony towards the elevators not giving Jimmy a second glance.

This was just his luck, he’d met a beautiful woman who hadn’t minded his awkward babbling, only to discover she was essentially untouchable.

He felt foolish for even having the thought. Who was to say she’d ever willingly allow him to touch her?

She was so far out of his league that it wasn’t even funny. Besides who was to say he’d ever see her again even if she had mentioned settling down into the area. The Virginia DC area wasn’t tiny, so chances are he’d never see her again.

Maybe Jimmy had just been single for too long now? Dating in combination with his odd career path and the time his schooling demanded wasn’t easy. He’d had more unsuccessful dates than he’d ever admit to, and his last relationship had been less of a relationship and more of a string of hooking up with one another in secret. It had been months since his last relationship had ended. He had been the one who’d ended that relationship admitting he’d wanted more from a romantic partner than the physical aspect of it. He’d had poor luck in actually finding a relationship though.

He’d begun to feel lonelier than he’d ever admit. He was starting to consider possibly giving online dating a try, but it seemed impossible with his erratic schedule and his less than conventional career path.

A small part of him was beginning to lose hope that he’d actually find anyone who would be willing to put up with him.

He told himself he was an idiot for feeling so disappointed that Liv was so unattainable. Pursuing her would never work. Jimmy had a distinct feeling that if he ever dared to even give Liv a flirty smile that Tony would bury him so deep into the ground that the devil himself would need a shovel to dig Jimmy back out again.

It was a lost hopeless cause.

It just wasn’t meant to be.

Much to Jimmy’s surprise though, fate had seemed to decide that it was in fact meant to be.

It had been two weeks since their meeting when fate had seemed to drag them back together.

Jimmy had been enjoying a rare leisurely day at the park enjoying a book and a sandwich he’d gotten from a nearby deli and taking in a nice spring day. He’d barely gotten more than a few bites of his lunch when a rather large dog had come out from nowhere snatching his BLT right from his hands and chomping it down.

He’d been stunned at this turn of events and that dumbstruck feeling had only intensified as a familiar voice sounded out. “Seriously? Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.”

Jimmy had stared dumbfounded as Liv Dinozzo approached him her face flushed and her breathing heavy a sheen of sweat cross her skin. It was clear she’d been running after the dog for a long while now.

She spoke her voice frantic, barely even having the courage to look him in the eyes. This entire situation was beyond awkward. “I am so so so sorry. I was trying to adjust his leash and he worked his way free. He’s not even my dog. I was just walking him as a favor for my neighbor and if I’d known he’d do this I wouldn’t have offered. I’m just new in the area and I thought I’d win some points with my neighbor, since her arm is broken, by offering to walk her dog.”

She paused, finally meeting his gaze, a look of recognition crossing her features. “Wait...I know you. You, uh, you work with my brother right? I didn’t catch your name? We met on the elevator. Please don’t tell me I’m completely wrong about that. I think we’ve met before, right? I really don’t want to make this entire situation all more mortifying.”

He spoke trying not to cringe as the dog licked his hand soaking it clearly searching for another snack. “I, uh, yeah we met. Liv right? Tony didn’t introduce us properly. I’m James Palmer, but uh...everyone calls me Jimmy.”

He cringed even more, counting his blessings that she hadn’t brought up the name Tony had called him Autopsy Gremlin.

She spoke, clearing her throat shifting in place still feeling so horribly embarrassed. “I wish I could say we were meeting again under better circumstances. I can’t begin to express how sorry I am. Please let me make it up to you. I can buy you lunch. Anything you want to eat. Have lunch with me as a way to make up for this all.”

Jimmy felt his heart pound in his chest. She wanted to have lunch with him. Was this real life? He spoke nodding his head frantically. “Okay. I-uh, do you need help with the leash. I may be able to help. I worked as a veterinary tech during a summer in college.”

She handed over the leather leash Jimmy not helping but to appreciate just how silken her skin truly was as her fingertips brushed his.

He’d somehow lived up to his offer to get the leash on thanking his upper body strength as he helped her corral the dog to her car.

He’d tried not to gawk when they’d returned to dog to the brownstone she lived in. It was clear as day that her property was far nicer than Jimmy’s own. It made sense though he guessed, didn’t the Dinozzo’s come from old money? Tony might have been cut off from the family fortune but Liv clearly was not.

If she’d noticed his gawking she’d not mentioned it. To be honest, she’d seemed relieved that he hadn’t brought it up, nor had he mentioned it when she’d insisted on taking him a more expensive bistro than he’d usually eat at.

Much to his surprise and relief talking to Liv Dinozzo had actually felt easy the longer their lunch had lasted, even with his occasional tendency to be a little awkward. She hadn’t seemed to mind that he talked far too much and got far too enthusiastic. If anything she’d found his enthusiasm kind of sweet.

It had been so easy to talk to her that he’d taken a chance and asked to have lunch with her again or maybe dinner with him paying this time.

Much to his shock she’d said yes.

It had become a routine, spending time together. They’d spent months spending quite a bit of time together, going to lunches and dinners and museums and walks through the park.

It was a friendship really and Liv seemed oblivious of Jimmy’s more amorous feelings towards her. Or at least it seemed to Jimmy that she was blind to the fact that he clearly saw her as more than just a new friend.

Jimmy had been incapable of hiding it forever though.

It had started out so innocent. It had been a nice spring day and they’d taken a risk leaving the park and walking a few blocks to an ice cream parlor to cool down.

As they’d been leaving the ice cream parlor a spring storm had hit and they’d gotten caught in the downpour. They’d run the rain soaking them both until they’d found sanctuary under the awning of a building for lease.

Jimmy couldn’t help it. They’d been standing so close to one another the sound of rain hitting the cloth awning above them the scent of rain in the air.  He’d looked down at her and she’d been staring up at him and before he’d known it his lips had been pressed to hers.

He’d barely had the mind to even comprehend as she eagerly returned the passion of his kiss, his insecurities far too loud to ignore.

He’d spoken frantically babbling so sure he’d ruined everything. “I am so sorry. I have really screwed this all up. I should have never done that. I did that without even asking you for your consent. I know you aren’t romantically interested in me at all. I understand that you don’t feel the same way about me as I feel about you, and I’m mature enough to accept rejection. I’m just begging you to please not let my lack of judgement ruin any chance of friendship. I swear that will never happ…”

He didn’t have a chance to keep rambling as Liv did the only thing she could think to do to stop him. She placed a hand over his mouth, the action gentle but firm. “Jimmy slow down for a moment and breathe.”

She pulled her hand back after he nodded his head signaling that he understood. The words that left her made his jaw drop. “Why do you think I’m not romantically interested in you?”

Was she being serious? Was this some kind of cruel joke? Was this an attempt to really make it clear she was rejecting him? Did she want him to give her the reason she wouldn’t be interested in him just to make sure he understood why and wouldn’t pull this ever again?

Surely she wasn’t that cruel. He didn’t think she was cruel at all. She didn’t seem cruel enough to force him to vocalize the cold harsh truth like this.

He spoke his shoulders sagging, his brows furrowed, the answer seeming so obvious. “You’re out of my league. How could you ever even have me on your radar? Why would you ever be interested in me?”

“Why wouldn’t I be interested?” She asked, causing his jaw to drop once again.

She spoke again, shaking her head at the sheer ridiculousness of this moment. How could such an intelligent man be so oblivious? “I have been flirting with you for over a month now. I must be really shitty at it if you didn’t figure it out.”

He spoke his brain going a mile a second trying to think over every second they’d spent together over the past month. “You were?”

She wanted to bury her head in her hands at the question. God, he really was clueless wasn’t he? “Yes, very bluntly.  Honestly, I was flirting with you long before that. You didn’t seem to be getting the hint though, so over this past month I’ve really amped it up. You really didn’t think I needed to ask your opinions on anatomy for that art piece I was working on did you?”

She spoke again, spotting the look of confusion on his face. “You’ve been to my place Jimmy. You’ve seen my bookcases. I have more than enough books that I could turn to for reference if I had a question about getting the anatomy accurate on a painting.”

He felt his cheeks flush at the realization. He’d honestly missed all the signs. If anything he’d just read her jokes and smiles and friendliness. He’d thought she was asking for his help because she’d wanted to get back into painting and he had a deep understanding of anatomy. She’d insisted that he was the only one she trusted to guide her. She’d insisted he had the advantage of both having an analytical mind thanks to his medical knowledge and a creative mind thanks to his own passion for art. He’d been flattered by her insistence and had missed that the praise she’d given him had a flirty undertone to it. Sure, he’d noticed lingering touches and deep gazes but he’d assumed it was all in his head.

She spoke shaking her head slightly. It would be pathetic if he wasn’t so sweet. “Jimmy you asked how you could ever be on my radar, but how could you not be? I mean...did you miss the part where I kissed you back?”

He’d spoken surprised by an uncharacteristic surge of confidence sounding far smoother than he was sure he’d ever sounded. “I may have missed it. Could you refresh my memory?”

She’d leaned up her lips pressing to his he easily melting into the kiss returning it eagerly his arms encircling her waist pleased to find she fit against him just as perfectly as he’d imagined she would.

The smoothness faded from his voice, he sounding uncertain as he pulled his lips from hers. “What does this mean for us?”

She’d not minded his lack of confidence, her hand stroking his jawline, he leaning into her touch as she reassured him. “I didn’t work so hard flirting with you for months now for us not to make things official.”

And they had made things official.

There had only been one problem; Anthony Dinozzo Jr.

Liv had looked so guilty and so afraid when she’d brought it up only a month into Jimmy’s and her romantic relationship. “We don’t have to keep it from him forever, Jimmy. Trust me, this isn’t me being ashamed to be with you. I promise you it isn’t. I adore you so much. You’ve been so perfect and so sweet and I love being with you. Please don’t think I could ever be ashamed to tell anyone. Tony is just..Our childhood was a disaster. Dinozzo Sr. isn’t the warm fuzzy take you to watch baseball kind of dad. Trust me. Most of the kids I grew up with were shoved off on nannies the second we popped out of the womb.”

She paused shaking her head. “You know my mom died when I was four and even though she’d already left Dinozzo Sr. custody of me still went to him. Tony was in boarding school by then and Dinozzo Sr. wasn’t into actually raising me. So nannies took over all the parenting. It was just the normal thing to do in that environment. It just creates a cycle where parents find it easier to throw money at their kids instead of giving them any attention and the kids act out to get attention. Dinozzo Sr. really only gave me attention when he needed to make himself look good. And Tony was out of the house for good when I was a preteen, so I was left alone with that.”

She paused again clearing her throat. “I rebelled. I was hungry for any kind of attention even if it was negative. I had a pretty intense party girl phase starting in my teens and lasting into my early twenties. I wasn’t the only one...you know the stereotype, rich kids having the world and squandering and not appreciating the opportunities they’re given. I wanted my dad’s attention and he didn’t even notice. I think he didn’t write me out of the will and cut me off because he’d already done that song and dance with Tony. I guess it was too shameful to have two disowned kids instead of just one. He kept feeding my trust fund and pretended not to notice when I acted out.. So I sought out attention from other sources and found myself in some pretty awful situations. I mean..it was chaos and I was right there in the middle of it. I managed to stay clean at least when it came to anything harder than pot. I still partied too much though. My friend group didn’t shy away from the harder stuff and I didn’t have the sense to stay away from them. When things got scary, I couldn’t call my dad because he wouldn’t come rescue me. Tony was the only one who was ever there for me.”

“He was the only one you could trust.” Jimmy remarked Liv letting out a soft sigh nodding her head.

She spoke again. “I called Tony to bail me out of whatever mess I’d gotten myself into more than once. When I hit rock bottom he helped me sort my shit out. Even though it’s been a few years and I’m in a far better place emotionally, Tony still sees me as a scared little girl who finds herself in messes and needs rescuing. He is overprotective and anytime a guy shows me any interest he scares them off. I know you’re going to try to reassure me that he won’t scare you off...but that’s not my biggest worry.”

She paused taking a deep breath and deciding to just be blunt about it. “My brother has a gun and he knows exactly how to use it Jimmy.”

Jimmy felt himself pale at what she was insinuating. She spoke once again spelling it out even more her eyes beginning to water. “I don’t know how he would react, especially considering you technically work together. I think he just needs time to see that I’m really okay and that I’ve grown up and am no longer the girl I used to be. He needs to understand I don’t need him to protect me anymore. I don’t want us to keep our relationship a secret from him, but I don’t know what else we can do for now. I know it’s so unfair for me to ask that of you and I know it makes the worst girlfriend on the planet. I wish there was a better way, I jus…”

She didn’t have a chance to keep speaking as Jimmy spoke interrupting her his heart aching at the tears in her eyes. He couldn’t take her crying. He couldn’t stand the thought of it. She was far too beautiful to be filled with any sorrow. “I don’t like keeping it a secret either. You aren’t the worst girlfriend on the planet though, I promise. I’m okay with following your lead on this. We can do what you think is right for as long as you need. I like you too much to risk anything. Whatever makes you comfortable, I’m going to support you.”

They hadn’t intended it to be a year later and for them to be no closer to telling Tony the truth, but the timing had just never seemed right.

So they had persisted on like this, keeping Tony in the dark about everything.

There had only been one time where he’d almost discovered it all and that had been when Liv had called her number flashing along Jimmy’s cell’s screen in front of Tony. Jimmy had felt his stomach drop at Tony spoke. “Why is my sister calling you?”

Jimmy had spoken silencing his phone the lie falling from him. “I’m helping her with an art piece.She wanted some insight on anatomy and I offered to help…I uh, we ran into each other at a coffee shop a little while back and she remembered that you and I work together and asked for my help. So, I’ve just been giving her a second opinion on her work from a more analytical standpoint.”

He felt his heart drop Tony making it obvious he didn’t like this information. “I’d rather her ask Ducky for an anatomy lesson. Watch yourself Palmer.”

That had been a clear sign to Jimmy that they probably were doing the right thing keeping it a secret. He’d spotted a dangerous edge to Tony’s voice that day and Jimmy had easily remembered Tony’s gun.

As time went on though Jimmy knew it couldn’t stay a secret forever. Especially if they wanted any kind of future together.

Their relationship had grown serious. It was serious enough that Jimmy had introduced Liv to his family. He’d been able to at least announce that she was his girlfriend in that environment even if it was a secret at work.

Jimmy couldn’t help but to fear that they were getting a little too sloppy lately though, considering the evidence of their relationship had appeared on his neck more than once these past few months.

He tried his best to shake his worries from his mind as he arrived at her place; he was almost able to go on autopilot at this point when it came to the trip to her apartment after work.

Jimmy wasn’t surprised that she embraced him the second he walked through her door he barely having time to drop his bag and his spare key.

He buried his face against her taking in her familiar smell and the warmth of her body, the smell and touch feeling soothing after the day he’d had.

They stood there silently holding on to one another, soaking up the moment before she finally spoke, only pulling back from him far enough to speak clearly. “You smell like stinky hospital soap.”

He managed to chuckle at this pointing out the truth. “It’s preferable to what I smelled like before I used the hazmat shower at work.”

She spoke not shy about asking as she straightened out his tie the deep silver material having been a gift from her. It was a nice silk blend that he would never have gotten for himself. “That bad?”

“Awful.” He admitted his stomach turning at the memory.

She spoke nodding her head trying not to cringe at her own question or the information she risked receiving. “Worst than the body Dr. Mallard and you pulled from that sauna a few months ago?”

“So much worse. The sauna body may have been a pile of sludgy decomp, but this body today was pulled from a lake. So it was bloated and it smelled like severe decay and fish and algae all at once. The fish had gotten to some of the body so we’re working with a mess. I thought the smell would never leave my sinuses. Dr. Mallard took some sympathy on me and let me use the hazmat shower again.”

Liv nodded her head at this information trying not to visibly shudder at the imagery. She’d long ago figured out that when it came to her boyfriend’s odd career choice she had to have a tough stomach and strong will if she ever wanted him to feel comfortable venting about work to her or expressing excitement about something he’d found interesting at work.

She’d learned far more about decomposition and murder than she ever wanted to know, but she’d kept her disgust at bay telling herself being able to have Jimmy share the events of his day with her was well worth the disgusting details.

He’d been so hesitant to share the details with her at the beginning of their relationship, admitting to her that most people were uncomfortable with the details surrounding his job. She’d gently reassured him though that he should be allowed to share details about his day with her. If needed to vent about something he found frustrating or share something he found fascinating, she didn’t want him to have hesitations. She’d reassured him that if it ever became too much or too disturbing she’d stop him. She’d done her very best to resist stopping him from sharing with her though. She just wanted to be the best girlfriend possible. He needed someone to share his burdens with who wouldn’t judge him.

She pressed a kiss to his cheek her voice soft and reassuring. “Did it totally kill your appetite? Please tell me you didn’t skip dinner. You know your blood sugar plummets when you skip out on eating.”

He pressed a kiss to her temple not at all minding her scolding. “I ate. Dr. Mallard bought me dinner. Speaking of, he wants us to come to dinner Sunday. I told him I would need to check with you before I committed, just in case you had plans for us.”

“I don’t have any plans for us. I’d be happy to have dinner with him.” She reassured Jimmy trying her best to pretend she wasn’t still trying to shake the image of corpse eating fish from her brain.

Jimmy nodded his head relieved that she never seemed to be tempted to turn down Ducky’s dinner invites.

Dr. Mallard was the only person Jimmy worked with who knew about Liv and he. It had been an accident, telling Dr. Mallard.

Jimmy had been in the middle of assisting with an autopsy when Dr. Mallard had been rattling on about a case he’d worked where a man had been poisoned with cyanide being added to his palak paneer. The man had never seen it coming, his wife had poisoned him knowing he wouldn’t suspect her to poison his favorite meal.”

Jimmy had felt the words leave him before he could stop it. “I may need to tell Liv that Indian food night is cancelled for a little while.”

He’d felt his cheeks flush relieved that it had just been him and Dr. Mallard here to hear this information. He’d frantically explained it all, admitting the truth and confirming that Liv was Olivia Dinozzo and yes they were an item and please don’t tell Tony.

Much to Jimmy’s relief Dr. Mallard had agreed to keep his secret though he’d left him with a firm warning. Secrets couldn’t stay secrets forever and when the truth came out the fallout might not be so pleasant.

Jimmy had been relieved that Liv hadn’t been upset that he’d let their secret slip once he’d reassured her it was safe with Dr. Mallard.

Liv pressed her lips to his he easily melting into it as he always seemed to do. She giggled he so clearly chasing her lips for another kiss as she pulled away and spoke. “Can you hold off on calling him to confirm our invite until tomorrow. I have plans for you tonight.”

“Oh you do?” He asked as she pressed another kiss to his lips.

“So many plans.” She insisted her lips trailing down his neck a giggle leaving her as she spotted evidence of the last time they’d gotten a little caught up in one another.

She spoke an apologetic tone crossing her voice. “I’m sorry I made such a mess of your neck.”

He let out a soft sigh nodding his head. “Tony pointed it out, but I deflected it. He’ll probably drop it once something else attracts his attention. He’ll have the whole weekend to forget it.”

She nodded her head trying to pretend her stomach wasn’t turning at this knowledge that her brother might be catching on. He had no reason to suspect she was the one who’d left all those hickies on Jimmy’s neck. After all, Jimmy was careful enough to return them on her skin in places she could easily hide. Not to mention Tony had no idea that Jimmy and she spent any time together aside from the occasional “art project” Jimmy helped her with.

She knew it was getting more and more difficult to hide the truth. The more intertwined Jimmy’s and her life became the more they risked Tony finding out in the worst way possible.

There had been so many moments over the past year that Liv had wanted to tell Tony everything. She’d rehearsed it all in her head practicing the words again and again. She’d told herself that she just needed to have a heart-to-heart with her older brother and confess exactly how she felt about Jimmy and exactly how she felt in general. The timing was never right though. She never quite worked up the nerve to just bite the bullet and tell Tony everything.

She’d be lying if she tried to pretend that she didn’t feel like the worst girlfriend on the planet. After all, she’d met Jimmy’s entire family but she couldn’t find the balls to tell her own brother about Jimmy. Jimmy had been so proud to introduce her to his mother and his sister and grandmother. Why couldn’t she be proud to tell Tony that Jimmy was her boyfriend.

She knew the longer this went on the worst the outcome would be. The consequence of her choice would bite her in the ass eventually.

Deep down she knew the truth would need to come out sooner than later especially as Jimmy and she began to discuss their plans for the future and the fact that those plans very much involved one another.

She tried to push the worries from her mind as she spoke a soft sigh leaving her. “I’ll be more careful from now on. In my defense though, I just couldn’t help myself. You were being so cute and cuddly and we were having a lazy morning. I just got caught up in how sweet and handsome you are and how much I love you.”

“We were having a nice morning, I love you too.” Jimmy responded unable to stop the dreamy smile crossing his lips at the memory of exactly what they’d been doing when she’d left deep purple hickies along his neck.

To be fair he had left a share of his own lovebites along her body.

She ran her lips down his jaw running them lightly along his neck as she spoke. “So, I got a new camera.”

He felt his breath hitch finding it hard to concentrate when she was standing this close to him, her lips sliding along his skin. “Yeah?”

“Uh huh, It’s a pretty nice vintage Canon 35 mm camera from the late seventies I’ve had my eye on for a while. I finally found a refurbished one that is almost as good as new. I’m thinking I want to try doing a series of photos with it, maybe using some black and white film and doing it all old school. The only problem is I need to test it out first, make sure the film I got for it is good to go. I’m going to develop all the pictures myself and make sure it’s taking nice clear photos.” She explained pausing running her lips along the nape of his neck loosening his tie and unfastening hsi dress shirt just enough to reach his bare skin.

She spoke again already knowing she would have very little trouble convincing him. “So, do you want to help me test my camera out?”

He nodded his head eagerly unashamed of just how needy he sounded as the words left him. “I’m always happy to be your test model.”

She chuckled as she turned, taking his hands in hers leading him back towards her bedroom. “You were way too easy to convince. I didn’t even have to bribe you with an offer to take some nude photos for you.”

“Can we bring that offer back to the table?” he asked unashamedly, following her to her bedroom and whatever she had planned for him so eagerly.

“Sit still for a few photos and we’ll see.” She remarked already knowing he’d probably sit through however many photos she wanted even without a bribe.

He loved her far too much to say no, and she had no problem taking full advantage of it.

Needless to say, she had a feeling she might not be able to hold true to her promise to be a little more careful when it came to leaving lovebites along Jimmy’s neck.

……………………………………………………………….

A loud bang wasn’t the ideal way to wake up early on a Saturday morning. The banging persisted even as she attempted to bury her head underneath her pillow.

She let out a groan rolling her eyes as it hit her that Jimmy was still fast asleep apparently he was far too drained from the day before and the late night they’d had to allow something like some persistent knocks at her front door to wake him.

The only indication he gave that he was even aware of the situation was a drowsy half asleep comment muffled against his pillow “Tell the neighbor to be quiet, too early baby. Oli make em be quiet.”

She shook her head knowing it did no good to wake him and explain exactly what was happening. He worked so hard during the week. He deserved to have a restful sleep on the weekends. He needed his rest. She just had to go tell whoever was at her front door this early to get lost and then she could go back to sleep too.

She pulled herself from the bed finding one of Jimmy’s t-shirts and a pair of panties knowing the shirt was large enough to cover her lower half. To be safe she at least put a kimono on over the makeshift outfit knowing a little extra coverage would be wise.

She moved quickly, shutting the bedroom door behind her and making her way to the front door where the knocking continued.

She peered through the peephole, her stomach dropping. Well crap. She hoped Jimmy really was sleeping as deep as he’d seemed to be just a moment ago.

She just had to crack the door and get rid of Tony, and she could go back to bed with no one being the wiser about just who was sleeping nude in her bed.

She attempted to do just that, Tony not shy about speaking far too loudly for this time of the morning. “What the hell? I thought you’d never answer the door.”

“It’s Saturday morning.” She responded keeping the door cracked, hoping he’d get whatever he wanted out fast so she could get rid of him.

“I called but you didn’t answer. I need help. You remember Gina?” Tony insisted reaching forward pushing the door.

“Barely, what about her?” Liv asked, attempting to push back against the door trying to keep him out of her apartment and keep her cool pretending that his coworker wasn’t asleep in her bedroom.

Despite her attempts to keep the door shut Tony managed to work it open, letting himself in. “I thought I’d finally got rid of her but she found me when I went out last night and the only way I could escape was by telling her my sister had an emergency. We were at my place and she wasn’t leaving without a fight. I was desperate to get out of there. She might still be at my place. I just need somewhere to lie low until she gets bored and leaves.”

“That was last night, did you seriously sleep with her and now you’re trying to use me as an excuse to ditch her?” Liv asked deep down inside knowing that she already knew the answer to this question.

She might love Tony, but she couldn’t deny the fact that her older brother could be, well, a giant asshole at times. The man was the poster child for commitment issues.

“Well, when you put it that way it sounds bad., I can’t help it, Livy, she has this power over me. I cannot tell her no and then when I have a chance to regret it then it’s already too late.” Tony insisted not taking notice of Jimmy’s messenger bag on her floor.

He did notice something else of Jimmy’s though. “Wait a minute, you didn’t go to Georgetown.”

Liv felt her heart drop as she realized Tony was staring down at her t-shirt, the same t-shirt Jimmy had worn to bed last night and had ditched at some point when they’d decided to go for a round two where he’d left a very noticeable hickey long her left thigh as revenge for the new lovebite she’d given him along his collarbone.

She parted her lips trying to come up with a lie fast, but she didn’t have a chance as the actual owner of her t-shirt made his way into the room rubbing the sleep from his eyes not even noticing his girlfriend’s guest as he obstructed his own vision with his hand.

At least he’d managed to grab a pair of boxers from the floor instead of wandering into the room as nude as he’d been just a moment ago.

He spoke as he continued to rub the sleep from his eyes still oblivious to the situation at hand. “Baby it’s so early, why are you up? I thought I heard knocking but then…”

He felt the statement die on his lips as he lowered his hand, his stomach dropping as he realized the reality of their current predicament.

Tony moved quickly, starting to race towards Jimmy, his eyes narrowing. He spoke as Liv moved just as fast stepping between the men before things got too far. “What the hell Palmer? That’s my sister!”

Jimmy parted his lips, his voice sounding out though his throat was tightening panic bubbling in his gut. “Tony, I can explain everything.”

“Can you explain it? What the hell is there to explain? You’re sleeping with my sister? Oh god, she’s the one who’s been leaving all those hickies on your neck? You’re seriously hooking up with my little sister. You were in such a rush to leave work last night so you could come...have fun with my baby sister!.” Tony exclaimed disgust and rage crossing his features, he still attempting to reach forward more than likely debating throwing a punch Jimmy’s way.

“It’s not like that!” Jimmy exclaimed in response. It wasn’t just sex, he had to explain that this wasn’t just a case of him having some sort of friends with benefits situation with Liv.

“It sure as hell looks like that!” Tony remarked Liv pushing him forward trying her best to keep her enraged brother and her horrified boyfriend apart before someone got hurt.

She spoke trying to be the voice of reason. “We’re together Tony. We wanted to tell you…”

“Together? Are you serious?” Tony asked he moving forward again Liv pushing him away trying her best to keep the peace.

“Yes, together, we’ve been dating for a year now and we never meant for it to stay a secret this long. We just didn’t know how to tell you.” She explained, Jimmy fast to speak trying to support her and be another voice of reason. “I love her Tony. I promise you I’ve always had the best of intentions with Liv. She means the world to me.”

Tony spoke shaking his head disgust still written across his features he not hearing anything Jimmy had to say about any of this. “ My coworker Olivia? Him? Why didn’t you just twist the knife in more and sleep with Probie while you were at it.”

Liv let out a huff shaking her head trying not to sound offended by what he seemed to be insinuating. “I wasn’t just hooking up with Jimmy with no strings attached. This hasn’t just been sex. Believe it or not but I’m capable of having a loving stable relationship with someone who genuinely cares for me.”

Tony spoke so angry that he wasn’t going to shy away from going for a nerve he knew he could strike. “Well what else am I supposed to think Olivia? Considering your past, are you really surprised I don’t think the worst of your choice in men?”

“Don’t you dare. You have no right to hold any of that over my head!” Liv snapped her voice rising Jimmy shocked to hear a dangerous edge to her voice that was so unlike his girlfriend’s usual sweet gentle demeanor.

Tony scoffed at this comment. “Really? I don't have a right? You seem to forget that I’m always the one who has to clean up your messes.”

“That isn’t true! I’m not that person any more and you have no right to pretend I didn’t work hard to be a better person! I’ve worked so hard and you still treat me like I’m a disaster!” She cried out, her voice still so filled with rage.

Jimmy spoke, attempting to stop this before it got even uglier. “Tony, come on, this isn’t fair.”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about Palmer. Just how much has she told you about herself?” Tony snapped clearly ready to strike for blood and hurt his sister in exchange for her betrayal.

“Shut up Tony.” Liv snarled quickly, losing her cool the more Tony spoke.

Tony didn’t hold back letting his anger get the best of him. “Do you know how many times I’ve rescued her from whatever shitty situation she decided to get herself into? I have spent so many nights driving out to nightclubs or one of her shitty friend’s penthouses to save her because things got a little too real for her to handle. Did she tell you about the boyfriend who got coked out of his brain and she had to lock herself in a bathroom and call me to come save her because she was afraid he might hurt her? Or maybe she told you about the time she had to leave some guy’s apartment at two am and she wound up wandering the streets until she found a phonebooth to call me to come get her on a bad side of town. Or maybe she told you about the time she got herself arrested for being intoxicated and fighting with some guy in a parking lot at a seedy nightclub, so our father had to throw money at a judge to get the charges dropped? But Senior wasn’t ever there to actually rescue her. It’s always been me. Our father just throws more money at her and she keeps getting into trouble and never learning. I’m the one who always has to be the responsible one and stop her from getting hurt.”

Tony paused, regretting the words the moment they left his lips. “Trust me Palmer, I know my sister. She’s always been like this. Too much to put up with and too hard to love. She’s so starved for affection that she jumps into bed with anyone who’ll have her. So forgive me for not believing she’s actually got her shit together for once.”

The harsh tone that Liv’s lips shocked both men her voice cracking as she spoke. “Get out of my apartment!”

Tony took a deep breath calming his anger realizing he’d really messed up. He’d tried to go for a jugular to hurt her and he’d succeeded. “Liv please…”

“Get the fuck out!” She snapped her voice sounding shrill an explosive anger leaving her so unlike her.

Tony parted his lips trying to find the words but Jimmy spoke deciding to do what needed to be done. He had promised Liv he’d support her in whatever she needed to do, and he meant it. “You need to leave Tony. Just go.”

Tony looked as though he wanted to protest but he let out a deep breath taking one final apologetic glance his sister’s way before he finally left the apartment.

Jimmy and Olivia stood in silence Jimmy fearing her silence meant the worst. The insecure little voice in the back of his brain told him she’d want to be alone now. She’d blame him for wrecking her relationship with her brother. She’d want him to go.

He spoke praying the voice wasn’t true. “Oli.”

She turned taking him by shock her arms wrapping around his torso she squeezing him so tight it almost hurt. She spoke her voice sounding weepy as she tried and failed not to cry. “Jimmy.”

He rocked her against him as she spoke her voice still so tearful. “Please don’t leave me.”

Jimmy was fast to speak stunned she’d been just as afraid of his abandonment as he’d been afraid of hers. “Never, I’m never going to leave you.”

He continued to rock her against him as she cried, his heart breaking. He still couldn’t stand to see her cry. “I’ve got you, it’s okay. It'll all be okay. I love you.”

He repeated the words like a mantra rocking her against him as her body finally grew weak she unable to force herself to cry more even if she wanted to. “I love you. I’ve changed. I promise I’m not that girl anymore.”

“I know you aren’t. I know you weren’t her when we met at all. You’re you Oli. You’re the beautiful woman who took my breath away that day in that NCIS elevator. You’re the sweet gentle girl who bought me lunch because your neighbor's dog stole mine. You’re the girl who I kissed in the rain and all I could think was that you tasted like strawberry ice cream and all my dreams coming true. You’re the girl who kisses every inch of me and takes too many photos of me. You’re the beautiful girl who won’t let me tell you that I’m so unattractive that I’ll break your camera. You tell me all the things you like about me and make me feel more secure than anyone ever has and ever will. I know who you are.”

She closed her eyes praying to whoever might be listening that he meant it all. He spoke again trying to make his point clear. “You aren’t hard to love. You’re so easy for me to love.”

The statement caused more tears to fall she somehow clinging to him all the tighter. He managed to speak once again doing all he could to find some small way to soothe her. “Come on lets go get a bath okay. Just let me hold you in the bath for a little while. We can use that chamomile bubble bath soap you like to use when you’re having a bad day. Let me take care of you Oli.”

She nodded her head wordlessly, her body feeling so tired. She felt so exhausted as she tried to wrap her brain around Tony’s statement. He’d thrown all her worst fears right in her face. It hurt, it hurt so much. He was the only family she’d trusted and he’d said she was hard to love.

Jimmy pressed a kiss to her temple, making a silent promise to himself that he would do whatever it took to reassure her of his love. He didn’t care what it took.

He swallowed the lump in his throat trying to push back the anger bubbling in his gut. He wasn’t sure if he could ever forgive Tony Dinozzo for what he’d said and he definitely didn’t think he could forgive him for making her cry.

Jimmy would do whatever it took to make sure she never had a reason to cry by his side ever again.

[lailannajacobs]

What in the Seven Hells is a Junabee? | GIBP III

Pairing: Fey!Loki x fem!reader

Chapter Summary: You and Loki take a trip to the seamstress. 

Warnings: fluff! 

Word Count: 5.3k 

A/N: OKay so I love this chapter for a whole bunch of reasons I won’t get into, but I also know it’s a set up for all the fake dating (and other events) you’ll get in the next chapter (and the rest of the fic) so don’t worry, my fav trope ever is coming!! I hope you enjoy, and as always, it makes my day to hear what your thoughts! <3 

The seamstress was in a beautiful house, which overlooked the river down below. It reminded you of the type of houses in the book of fairy tales you and Nat used to have; tall and spindly, and reminiscent of a pine tree. It was the same luscious green as the surrounding flora and had over a dozen tiny stained-glass windows that glowed like emeralds in the sun. You’d never seen anything like and it, and you couldn’t help but stare a little too long.

Loki knocked on the door and took a step back, hands clasped behind him as you waited. The black, double doors were much bigger than the one at the restaurant, and you were pretty sure that meant a Dwarf wouldn’t be greeting you this time. You couldn’t help but feel a little curious, a lot of dread and somewhat excited to see who would greet you.

A strong, broad shouldered Fey woman opened the door, a cat-like grin spreading across her face as she took in the king. Her chestnut hair was braided back and out of her face, but the rest was loose around her shoulders in tight curls. She was dressed in black from head to toe, pants tucked into knee high boots, paired with an intricate top that looked more like armour. Had you passed this woman on the street you would have assumed she was a warrior and not a seamstress. Even standing before her now, you weren’t sure you were at the right place.

Loki took her hand in his and pressed a kiss to the back of it, an equally wicked smirk on his lips.

“Valkyrie, I’m so glad you could make room for us on such short notice,” he practically purred, “we appreciate it.”

“You were just lucky someone canceled at the last minute,” she said with a wink, “I don’t make exceptions for anyone, least of all you, Loki.”

He let a breathy little laugh, the two of them obviously good friends, if not something more. If there was, it wasn’t like you didn’t get it. She was beautiful. Honestly, they both were.

Her gaze slid toward me and her grin morphed into something a little less playful and much softer, “and you must be the mysterious future queen I’ve heard about,” she dipped her head, “it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Likewise,” you said through a tight smile.

This was the first time someone other than Loki had mentioned the actual consequences to this deal and you weren’t sure you liked it. Queen… You weren’t meant to be queen. Ever. How in Cerdwen’s were you supposed to be queen? You shoved the thought to the back of your mind. There was no point thinking about it and freaking yourself out more. You just needed to keep pretending like you could actually do this.

Anyways, she was a seamstress, not a council member whose opinion could change everything. You had to assume that Loki must have brought you into the city to practice your act around people who’s opinions didn’t affect your fates, but even if he hadn’t, you were glad for the excuse to learn how to play the role.

“I’ve heard so many great things about your talent, Miss Valkryie,” you lied, settling into the part as best you could, “I can’t imagine having gone to anyone else. It’s just so nice to have finally met you.”

“You’re too kind,” she waved away the compliment, but her eyes narrowed slightly. You held your breath, afraid she could see right through you until she motioned for you to follow her in, “but I do have some pieces I’m sure you’ll like.”

The walls on one side of the hallway were painted navy while the other side was painted a dark green, all trimmed with gold mouldings and decorated with paintings of men and women in extravagant clothes. There were rooms branching off to either sides. The layout of the house was far bigger than you’d assumed from the outside. You couldn’t help but wonder who this woman was exactly. The riches of this home were beyond ordinary…weren’t they? You clenched your jaw in an attempt to hide your anger. If these people had homes like these then they had the means to help any one of the other realms who were still rebuilding. Yet they hid on their island like the rest of us didn’t matter. Odin was a monster, stroking the embers of hatred that sizzled in his realm, mounting them to a burning fire that destroy the seven others. But these people — the Fey — they could do something about it. Instead, they just sat in their riches and their magic, doing nothing. You were thankful neither of them could see your face.

You entered a room that might not have seemed small if it hadn’t been stacked with books from floor to wall on every side except for the one you’d entered through. There was large wooden desk in the corner, cluttered with papers and scraps of fabrics and in the centre, a pedestal with two small poof seats in the opposite corner.

“Remind me again what you’re looking for, Loki,” she motioned for the two of you to take a seat.

You stayed standing keeping an eye on her and door. Loki shrugged and gracefully eased onto the cushion, legs sprawled out in front of his as if he was in his own home. You glanced between the two of them, trying to figure out what exactly their relationship was, but both of their faces were impossible to read. The only thing you knew for sure was that these two had known each other for hundreds of years.

“Other than a few formal gowns, I would suggest you ask Ms. YLN,” his gaze slid over to you, eyes lit up with mischief, “the choice is hers.”

You barely restrained from scoffing. Like you had any choices in the deal.

Valkyrie turned to face you, surprising you with a genuine looking smile on her face, “Come then. I think I’ve got ideas you might like. Do you want your future king to join us?”

Valkyrie probably had no idea that she’d just asked the best question possible. Or maybe, judging by the sly grin on her face, she had. You didn’t know if that immediately made you want to trust her or the exact opposite.

“Actually, I was hoping it could be a surprise,” you chirped, “he really doesn’t need to stay.”

Loki let his head loll back, looking at you through hooded eyes with a slight, knowing grin on his lips, “of course. Enjoy yourselves. I’ll be back soon, sweetheart.”

He stood with efficiency and speed unmatched by most of the other races. When his back was to Valkyrie, he shot you a pointed look. You narrowed your eyes but quickly made sure to smooth out your features before Valkyrie could get wind of what was going on.

When he was out of sight and the door had closed behind him, you felt a shimmer of magic and wondered if Valkyrie felt it too. If she did, she didn’t say anything. You had a feeling that whatever it was, it was a precaution to make sure you wouldn’t sneak off again.

“I see you like to dress to move around,” was the first thing she said.

You couldn’t help but look down at the plain black pants and dirt brown sweater as if you’d forgotten you’d been wearing borrowed clothes all morning.

“I need to be able to move,” you answered gruffly.

She nodded, “I get it. This world hasn’t been easy, especially to humans.”

“And what would you know about the world being unkind?” you snapped, the riches of her home mocking you.

“This realm was at war like every other hundreds of years ago,” her voice was barely louder than a whisper, but there was nothing soft in her voice, “just because we haven’t had it the hardest doesn’t mean we don’t know hardship.”

Something about the haunted look on her face made you feel stupid about your outburst and you cursed yourself again for not being able to keep your emotions in check. Valkyrie barely looked older than you did, but she spoke like she’d lived through the war — seven hells, judging by the way she wore her clothes like armour,  she might have even fought in it. You wanted to ask her about it, but doubted you could get through even an inkling of the conversation with your emotions in check. You weren’t about to expose yourself by asking questions to which you already knew the outcome. Still, it didn’t mean she deserved your judgement.

“I’m sorry,” you maintained eye contact as you spoke, hoping she knew that you meant the words, “you’re right.”

She ignored the apology with a wave of her hand, and you sighed, glad she didn’t seem to think anything was amiss.

“I see why he likes you. That fight in you…it’ll remind him of his,” she continued, almost to herself, “he’s been going through the motions for far too long now.”

You paused, wondering why she was so open, sharing about her king like that until you remembered, that as his future queen, this wouldn’t be inappropriate, especially that she was complimenting you. Still, it was hard to ignore the fact that she thought Loki was only going through the motions. They Fey you’d met looked nothing like that.

“I’m flattered you think so,” you said with a smile, hoping you could rely on pleasantries to get by, “you’ve certainly known him longer than I have.”

“We’ve been,” she paused with a huff and a little shake of her head, “it feels like we’ve known each other for an eternity. I’m glad he’s finally found someone who makes him happy.”

“Well, he makes me happy,” you almost gagged on the words, but the way her smile grew made you think that you’d said the right thing.

Valkyrie lifted her hand and a book high on the shelf flew off and into her hand. You pretended to inspect your nails, trying not to show how much her little display of magic amazed you. It seemed so simple and you couldn’t help but wonder if maybe it was something you’d be able to do if someone took the time to show you.

“I was thinking we’d start with something like this for formalwear,” she pointed to a gown that looked equally gorgeous and terrifying, “and then we move on depending on what you like or don’t like. Yeah?”

You shot her what you hoped was an enthusiastic smile, the moment bittersweet. Nat would have loved sitting here with you, thoughtfully pouring over all the designs and teasing you into trying something outside of your comfort zone. But she wasn’t here. Your hand fluttered to place on your chest where the pendant lay under your shirt. She was being held hostage and you were here. It didn’t matter than you were now in similar situations, yours was so much easier and you couldn’t help but feel guilty about being here. This whole thing seemed frivolous and pointless. The Hand was the only thing keeping you from walking out.

Valkyrie cocked her head to get a better look at you, “you sure?”

“Absolutely,” you picked up the design she’d just shown you, thankful your hands weren’t trembling, “ready as if my life depended on it.”

Loki had reappeared as you were nearing the end of Valkyrie’s many suggestions and had taken a seat in the far corning, looking on in calculated silence. It was hard to focus with him back in the room and you weren’t sure if you should change the way you were behaving around Valkyrie. She’d been so carefree and thoughtful about the dishes she’d had to offer that you’d almost forgotten what you were doing here. She wasn’t the council so you knew you didn’t have to impress her but a part of you still felt like you should remind her that the two of you were in love. Or at least maybe act a little differently?

After glancing over at Loki for what felt like the millionth time, he raised a brow. You glared at him. For someone who was so worried about the two of you being seen together this morning, he wasn’t doing a spectacular job at faking it right now. He shrugged lazily as if to say what do you want me to do and stayed silent.

“I’m glad you told him to go because you clearly can’t take your eyes off of him,” Valkyrie remarked, her eyes fixed on the design she was altering based off of your comments.

You quickly turned back around, thankful that she had read your confusion as romance and impressed that she was so aware of her surroundings. Maybe if people expected to see love, they wouldn’t look so hard to think it wasn’t there. You mentally rolled your eyes. Kidding yourself was a waste of time.

You weren’t sure what to say to her comment, so you stayed silent, pasting on an awkward little smile and hoping it was the right thing to do. She lifted up the modified design and you could only nod, speechless, your smile becoming genuine this time.

“So that covers your daily garments. I do have dresses for…” the words fell from her mouth and she pursed her lips, eyes flickering to the ground before she came back up with a smile. You looked between her and Loki to try and see what you missed, but Loki’s face looked nothing other than bored. She continued quickly before you could get a better read on the situation, “dresses for every day use if you want. Clothes are like armour. Whatever you need, I can get it done.”

There was a seriousness to her voice that made you think that she didn’t just mean that figuratively, but the ominous tone stopped you from asking outright what she meant by it. There was something they weren’t telling you, but you doubted either of them would tell you what it was if you asked.

You jumped at the movement by your side, not having heard Loki get up.

Loki took her hand in his, “thank you, Valkyrie. Truly.”

Her brows furrowed but she smoothed it over quickly with a laugh, “you are paying me, remember?”

“True,” he murmured, shooting her a look you couldn’t decipher.

“Go,” she shooed him away with a laugh, “I’m tired of seeing your face.”

He put a hand on his heart in mock offence, the playful king back as quickly as he’d vanished, “you barely saw me today.”

“And bring you future queen around more often,” she continued as if he didn’t have a point, “I like her.”

He grinned mischievously, “as do I.”

And in that moment, he looked so convincing that you could see why she believed him. Loki didn’t appear to be a stranger to lying, even to someone who he’d apparently known forever. Although it meant that your chances of convincing the council were better off because of it, you didn’t like what that meant for your end of the deal.

“You know, Valkyrie,” he began.

“Don’t bother,” she cut him off with a stern half smile, “I’m good where I am.”

He dipped his head low, “I know…not unless the realms are sinking into the seven hells. I remember.”

She nodded curtly but shot you a wink as if you knew what in Ceridwen’s name they were talking about. You smiled back, your brain already going through the possible things a king could have repeatedly asked a seamstress for. Nothing that made any sense came up and Loki was already waiting in the doorframe, ready to go, so you added it to the ever-growing list of things you didn’t understand but somehow knew were important.

After your goodbyes, you left the house the way you came, heading back up the mountain to the palace.

“The meeting with the council is in a few hours,” he said, that casual joking tone he’d used with Valkyrie gone from his voice, “I suggest you wear something nice.”

“A gown,” you clarified.

He shrugged, “as long as it’s nice.”

“So you wouldn’t mind if I wore pants?” you demanded incredulously. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d seen Nat in anything other than the constricting gowns Odin trapped her in.

“I thought you were gorgeous wearing the tattered clothes you broke into the palace with,” he strolled on without looking at you, “if we didn’t need the council’s approval I wouldn’t have said a thing.”

Stunned, you grabbed his arm and spun him to a stop, wondering what in the seven hells was going on. His lips curled into a wicked grin and he stepped closer, dipping his head so your eyes were practically at level with his glowing ones, “don’t worry, sweatheart,” he crooned, “I’m simply getting a little practice in.”

You grunted and pushed past him, muttering asshole under your breath even though you knew his Fey hearing would catch it. You had a good idea where you were headed so you stomped forward, letting him stroll a few paces behind you. It didn’t matter that he could easily catch up to you if he wanted. The false sense of privacy made you feel better. It gave me the space to breathe.

You took in your surroundings enjoying the streets of Natalos. You stopped your stomping, taking your time getting back, not sure if you’d be stuck in the palace or allowed to roam wherever you wanted. You were hoping the latter, not only because you hated the confines of the palace but because there was a chance the Hand was in the city and you didn’t need the extra obstacle of trying to sneak out.

You weren’t sure if you would be stuck in the palace or if you’d be allowed to wander wherever you wanted. You hoped it was the latter not only because you hated being stuck in the palace but because there was a chance the Hand was in the city and you didn’t need the extra obstacle of trying to sneak out of the palace.

The sun had gotten much stronger, hanging overhead now. The kiss of the heat on your skin felt like it was finally melting away the cold of Niflheim. You sighed, closing your eyes for a fraction of a second as you walked, basking in the feel. You and Nat would feel the sun again. You would escape. You had to.

“Watch out for the fruit,” Loki interrupted your thoughts, much closer than he was before.

“What out for the what?” you echoed, stumbling to the side in surprise and trying to figure out what he was talking about.

His eyes widened and he reached out for you. You backed out of his grasp instinctively,  grabbing onto the nearest tree to keep from tripping over. Then something cracked down on your head and it started pouring rain. Your whole body straightened in shock as the water poured down your face and neck, and down your spine. And then the stench hit you. You gagged. Wiping the liquid from your eyes, you noticed it had a slightly pink hue and was more like goo. Loki was completely dry. It couldn’t be rain. So what was it? He motioned for you to come closer, his lips tight as he tried to suppress a smile.

“What in the seven hells was that?” you practically shouted.

He pointed above, still not saying a word as he tried to keep himself together. The tree was massive and dark blue, sprawling across half the street with its thick branches and fan-like leaves. Hundreds of pink fruit about the size of your head hung precariously, swaying gently in the breeze.

“That’s not an explanation,” you growled, wiping more of the foul goo off you.

He swallowed and pointed to a sign that read, Beware, falling Junabees. This time, you actually looked around. If you hadn’t been so distracted, you probably would have noticed the pink-stained cobblestones littered with Junabee carcasses — that and the blatant warning. You took another step back toward the other side of the street just to be safe and glared at him.

“I wouldn’t walk too close to the edge next time,” he chuckled, though the wide grin on his face told you that he was enjoying this far more than you were.

“Why in Ceridwen’s name would you people keep this here?” you demanded, “it’s disgusting.”

He paused at your reference to the old gods and shrugged, motioning for you to come a little closer. You took a wary step forward, only following his request because you weren’t sure the Junabees were done with their attack. Tentatively, he raised a hand. You flinched back and he paused waiting for your nod. He brushed some of the goo off your cheek with his thumb, the motion slow and gentle. You stood still as a statue, not sure how to react. His eyes were bright and focused, the corner of his mouth quirked upward in the ghost of a smile. All you could do was stare at him, barely breathing.

“They’re surprisingly difficult to grow and the berries can be quite delicious when prepared properly,” he murmured, taking more of the goo out of your hair, “so we let them grow wherever they chose to pop up. No one’s allowed to cut them down.”

The thought of eating one made you gag, “and how do you prepare them?”

His lips pulled into a sly grin, “wine.”

You scoffed and pushed past him, trying to clean out the goo out of your ear on the way. You were tempted to grab a Junabee and throw it at him, but you were too worried that it would burst in your hand if you tried. That wasn’t a risk you were willing to take, even to put him in the same situation as you.

He caught up quickly and kept stealing glances at you that were impossible to ignore.

“What?” you snapped.

“When we walk into the council room, you might want to wipe the murderous look from your face,” he mentioned with a grin, enjoying this far more than he should.

You looked around, trying to find something to take your mind off the fact that you wanted to punch him, “give me what I want, and you won’t have to worry about me meeting your council,” you said through clenched teeth.

A slight chuckle was all you got in response and he led you down a street you didn’t recognize. You couldn’t tell if he was showing you more of the city or making sure that you couldn’t find your way around it. You sighed. This was going to be impossible.

You were dragging your feet when you walked into the palace later that evening, your thighs burning from climbing the steep streets. You couldn’t help but think that all of this would have been easier if you weren’t human. There was nothing you could do about it now, but it didn’t change the fact that you hated it. Though now that you were stuck, all you wanted was a nice dinner and a warm bath, both of which were things you could actually get here and not in Niflheim — that was if you could get through this stupid council meeting or party or whatever it was.

“Valkyrie has already sent over a few options for you,” he said when you came to a stop in front of your door, “I would recommend you wash up before you meet the council. I can’t have them thinking you live in the pig sty.”

Although your heart soared at the idea of warm water, you were far too grumpy to be thankful, “and so what if I showed up like this?”

You tried your hardest not to wince as the pathetic retort came out. You were fed up and sore and not your best on an empty stomach. It probably would have been better to ignore him, but the words were out now.

He smirked, “take a bath or don’t. If you repel the council with your stench, I can’t say that I’ll be disappointed.”

“You know,” you huffed, “the only reason I smell this bad is because you didn’t warn me about the stupid Junabees in the first place.”

“I told you to be careful,” he countered, leaning lazily on the doorframe.

You nodded like he actually had a good point before snorting, “sure. I doubt you could have been any more vague about it if you tried.

He grinned and pulled a little more goo out of your hair.

“Ugh,” you stormed past his still grinning face and into you room.

“I’ll be back in an hour,” he called before you slammed the door in his face.

“We’ll have to make this quick,” Loki said, walking into the kitchen, “I left YN alone to wash up and get changed before the council meeting and told her I’d be back in an hour.”

“So we’ve got forty-five then,” Bucky said with a smirk, propping his feet up on the table.

Loki shook his head, “let’s make it thirty.”

That only made his grin spread even wider, “I see you’ve got your hands full with our future queen.”

“That may be so, but at least she’s not boring,” at Bucky’s raised brow he said, “she discovered the Junabees today.”

“So a solid thirty minutes then,” he chuckled, both of them fully aware of how hard it was to to wash that goo out of hair.

“Let’s get back to business,” Nebula snapped from the head of the table, cutting them off before they could say anything else.

Loki nodded, knowing he’d been putting it off. With his assassin back so soon, it could only mean that there was nothing good to report. He didn’t want to ruin his surprisingly good mood with the same answers Bucky had been coming to him with for the past two moons, but he had to get it done and over with.

“Right. Bucky. You found…” Loki drifted off, unable to ask the question he already knew the answer to.

Bucky shook his head, “nothing. If Hella’s working with someone else, then she’s hiding it extremely well.”

“There someone else,” Nebula affirmed, shooting Bucky a fierce look, “I’m sure of it.”

Bucky turned and gave her his full attention. They said nothing, but Loki knew that the Angel and Dark Elf could practically read each other’s minds. They had only ever told him bits and pieces of what had happened all those years ago before they had found him, but he knew they wouldn’t be sitting in his kitchen if they hadn’t found each other first.

Bucky nodded, “okay. I’ll find whoever it is.”

“And what about that future queen of yours?” Nebula snapped, whirling around to him. From her place at the counter, Wanda looked over her shoulder, but didn’t say anything. Nebula drove on, all business, “who’s she working for? You said she wants the Hand but I don’t believe for a second that a human who knows nothing about magic wants the Hand for herself.”

Loki shrugged, “herself, someone else, it doesn’t matter. Either way, she’s not getting it. The Hand stays locked up, right now more than ever. If anyone else gets their hands on it…”

They shuddered, still haunted from the last time the book had fallen into the wrong hands.

“What did Gamora have to say about it?” Bucky asked, offering Nebula half of his bread roll. She looked at it with hatred, but Bucky shoved it her way until she took it.

“She hasn’t spoken to me since YN’s arrival,” Loki looked over at Wanda, “any luck on that end?”

“I think so,” Wanda slid the potatoes she’d been chopping into the large pot and came their way, “Gamora says that she can’t remember who cursed her but I believe that’s the key to breaking it.”

Loki stared at Wanda, intrigued and a little impressed Wanda could get Gamora to divulge anything personal about herself, “go on.”

“Right, so we haven’t gotten anywhere because we haven’t been able to identify the magic that was used to curse her, correct?”

“It’s like nothing I’ve ever seen” Bucky said, leaning back in his chair to look over at Nebula who shook her head.

Despite all of his training, Loki also had to agree, “it’s beyond anything I’ve ever seen. And the Witches are still being silent, but I doubt that even if they agreed to help, they’d know what it was any more than we did.”

“Right,” Wanda went back to the pot and stirred a few times, thinking, “which is why I doubt any of us can figure out what it is. I think Gamora is the only person who could identify the magic, so what if we knew who cursed her?”

Bucky grinned, “then she would know what kind of magic was used to bind the curse.”

“We don’t actually have that information,” Nebula pointed out gruffly.

“Then we’d need a remembering spell,” Loki suggested, knowing that just because they now had a new theory didn’t mean they were any closer to breaking Gamora’s curse.

Wanda winced and tilted her head from side to side. He sighed. There was no doubt in his mind that he wasn’t going to like what she was about to say next.

“Or we’d need someone to get in her head.”

“No,” Loki answered immediately, “no. She’ll never let me in and trying might kill me. Her power might only be a tenth of what it used to be but that’s still more than I’m willing to bargain with. If I managed to unlock the memory and I’m still in there…”

“Then we’ve fried the king,” Bucky added helpfully.

Loki shot him a looked that earned him a cheeky grin in return.

“Wanda’s option might be the only one,” Nebula countered, glaring at Bucky, “memory spells are hard to come by and even harder to execute effectively — even for Loki.”

“It’ll be her decision,” Wanda affirmed though her voice was no louder than a whisper. They all snapped to attention knowing she was right, “if she thinks it’s safe, then it’s her decision whether to go through with it or not.”

Loki nodded solemnly, “agreed.”

Wanda walked back over to her pot, stirring and humming softly as if they hadn’t been discussing Gamora’s fate, “I’ll keep looking for a spell, but you should talk to Gamora.”

“You don’t want to do it?” Loki asked with a smirk.

She offered him a small smile, “I know you’re going to see her later. The honour is yours.”

“How kind,” he said with a laugh before heading back out to get ready for his meeting with YN and the council.

[snusbandxknifewife]

Not me seeing this post:

And starting an entirely new Jurdan AU based on it lmao. Rated E for “Excessive Mentioning Of Sex Toys”

~~~

Dun dun.

Jude looks up as the front door of her father’s business, Lawn & Order, opens. The bell, added by her eldest sister in an effort to annoy their father, has been going off all day. Work is piling up on the receptionist desk and she curses to herself, knowing that more paperwork means less time outside.

A USPS delivery man walks in, hauling a hand truck nearly overflowing with boxes. Sweat drips down his face, pooling at his collar as Jude decides that maybe a little time in the AC isn’t too bad on a day as hot as this one.

“Sign here,” the obviously exhausted man says as he turns a clipboard towards her.

Funny, Madoc didn’t tell her they’d be getting a delivery today.

Still, she shrugs and absentmindedly signs the clipboard as the man unloads the hand truck with a dramatic groan. She should get up and help him, and, on any other day, she probably would. But today is for licking wounds and pouting.

The clock ticks quietly as Jude considers how she has to file papers and phone customers and clean the shop, just to go home for family dinner where her sister will undoubtedly be moaning about her cheating ass of an ex.

Not sure why she’s surprised, considering he cheated on JUDE with HER.

Taryn and Locke had been a thing officially for only three months, but they’d been sleeping together behind Jude’s back for much longer than that. The very idea makes her skin crawl and she would much rather spend her valuable time cutting someone’s lawn with nail clippers instead of playing nice with her poor heartbroken witch of a twin.

“Have a good one!” Jude clocks back into reality as the USPS man walks out the door, taking his hand truck with him and leaving her to the quiet of the AC unit and the court room tv playing in the corner.

Sighing, she gets up from her leather stool and walks around the counter to pick up the boxes. They look innocent enough, simple white USPS priority mail boxes that she expects to contain samples of seeds or maybe replacement weed whacking string trimmers. She could use some of those, the weed whacker she takes in her truck hasn’t been working as well as usual and Mrs. Mitsgunmins is kind of an asshole about precision.

She lets out a groan as she picks up the top two. The boxes are a lot heavier than she thought they’d be. Puzzled, she sets the two boxes on the counter, leaving behind the other two as she goes on a hunt for some scissors. Making it almost to her father’s office, she cusses audibly as she remembers the hunting knife she keeps in her boot.

It’s been a long fucking day.

Jude hums along to a commercial as she walks back to the counter, pulling out her knife along the way and slicing the tape of the top box. With a whistle, she opens the box and frowns at finding a bunch of little cardboard boxes stuffed inside. What the hell did Madoc order?

Her whistling stops in horror as she picks up one of the packages and spins it around, only to find bold neon print plastered along the front: XXX RECHARGEABLE NIPPLE CLAMPS

“WHAT THE FUCK?” Jude screeches at the top of her lungs as she drops the box and jumps back. Why the hell does her father need some hundred-or-so sets of rechargeable nipple clamps? Why do nipple clamps even need to be charged in the first place?

Taking a moment to steel herself, Jude moves towards the second box—staying as far away from the nipple clamps as possible—and reads the label for an explanation.

Ohhhh, these are for next door. The delivery man must’ve mixed up the addresses.

Letting out a sigh of relief, she pushes the nipple clamps back into their box and closes the lid, checking the other labels and seeing that all four boxes are meant for next door and thanking her lucky stars that Madoc didn’t suddenly decide to get his kink on.

Looking out across the driveway to the innocuous white building beside Lawn & Order, she rolls her eyes. The Sinful Serpent—complete with its shimmering golden apple sign—has been the bane of her father’s existence since it opened a year ago. Every day she has to hear about how he hates sharing space with some gross sex shop. While adult stores aren’t really Jude’s thing, she hasn’t cared too much because she hasn’t had to interact with the store or owner.

Until, she supposes, today.

She stacks the boxes back up and picks them all up with a grunt, thankful for the workout routine that her work provides as she curses the delivery man for taking his hand truck with him.

Only one car is in the parking lot of the sex shop and she celebrates the fact that nobody will see her going into the store. The last thing she needs is people recognizing her workplace on her shirt and bothering her or her dad. It’s already bad enough listening to old men ogle her when she goes to do landscaping work.

The front door is hooked up to an electronic bell that sounds like the twinkle of magic. As she pushes her way into the Sinful Serpent, she lets out a sound of surprise. Whatever she expected a sex shop to look like, this certainly isn’t it.

The entire store is decorated to look like a forest at twilight, with displays cut into bookshelves that look like giant trees and murals depicting faeries dancing through delicate nature landscapes wrapping around the walls. The lighting is low, except for where spotlights illuminate the wares. Over along one wall, by where the lingerie and exotic dancing costumes are, is a stage with a pole, the whole area bathed in blue light and covered in decor like coral. Between the entrance and exit door, the area for the registers resembles a castle.

“Give me a moment,” a voice calls out from within the castle. “I’ve got to check your ID.”

Jude panics, the very suggestion that she might be a customer in a store like this sending her brain into red alert. “I’m not here to shop!”

“The hell you here for then? Last I checked we didn’t have a gloryhole.”

She all but screams, short circuiting at being faced with a worse option than shopping at a store like this. As she tries to think of what to say, a young man pops up from behind the counter and surveys her, his kohl-lined eyes narrowed as he tries to figure out what her deal is.

He’s dressed in all black, his button up shirt undone halfway down his chest, exposing edges of tattoos that she doesn’t study enough to identify. His bottom lip and septum are pierced, as are his ears—which appear to have been elfed, because they end in sharp points. When he crosses his arms in front of his chest, his fingers are covered in glittering rings.

And he’s grinning at her.

“I uh, um,” she shakes her head, and then remembers the heavy boxes she’s hauled all the way over. “I work next door and, uh, the mailman,” she trails off again, her cheeks flaming as she lowers her voice and mutters, “I think he mixed up our addresses.”

His smile widens and his eyes look dangerous as he tilts his head. “And why would you think that?”

She glares at him and he chuckles lowly.

“We didn’t order these.”

“Can you be sure?” He asks, raising one painted nail to tap thoughtfully against his chin. “A landscaping company and adult entertainment store must have some overlap. Ropes and chains come to mind.”

“We don’t need rechargeable nipple clamps!”

“Everybody needs rechargeable nipple clamps,” he counters, his smirk replaced by reverent intensity.

She lets out a frustrated noise and slams the boxes on the counter, her back cracking in protest. “I don’t!”

“Woah! Stow the seriosity, Sunshine,” he lifts his hands in mock surrender. “I’m just playing with you.”

Grinding her teeth and digging her nails into her palms, she does her very best to keep from choking him out as he leans across the counter, his falling shirt collar exposing a necklace with a snake pendant hanging at his sternum.

She goes to spin on her heel and leave, but stops when a door—hidden behind a painting of a faun and nymph doing unspeakable things—opens, revealing a pretty young woman with blue hair pulled up into a messy bun.

“Cardan I can’t find the damn nipple clamps. I thought they were supposed to be delivered today?”

“Don’t worry, Nic,” the young man calls back with a smile. “Sunshine here brought them over.”

Jude, bristling at the title, misses how the woman momentarily blanches when she lays eyes on her. Quickly recovering and putting on a stony face, she walks over to the castle counter and inspects the opened box.

“You look familiar,” she observes and Jude zeroes in on her carefully cool tone. “Don’t you work at that coffee shop downtown? Bean There, Done That?”

“You’re thinking of my twin, Taryn.” Jude bites her tongue, doing her beat to avoid sounding annoyed at being confused with that backstabbing little—

“Sunshine here is our neighbor, Nicasia,” Cardan cheerfully announces. “She got our order and was kind enough to haul it over.”

“My name is Jude,” she grumbles.

He ignores her, leaning in conspiratorially and stage whispering in Nicasia’s ear. “She has insisted that she doesn’t need rechargeable nipple clamps, so surely they must belong to us.”

“Everyone needs rechargeable nipple clamps,” Nicasia whispers back.

“That’s what I said!”

Jude, rooted in place from the pure horror of listening to this conversation, watches as Cardan picks up a pair of scissors and opens a second box; pulling out a pair of fuzzy pink handcuffs and grinning when he notices her watching him. Nicasia raises a perfectly groomed brow at the situation before grabbing the box of nipple clamps and heading to restock the shelves.

Once again, he leans forward, fingers spinning the handcuffs around as he smirks at her. “Now that the packages are handled, what can I do you for?”

Jude frowns, sure that he misspoke. It’s then that her phone goes off and she celebrates any excuse to get the fuck out.

Emergency situation at Dr. Wullworth’s. Need you to take over cutting at the Collethes. -Madoc

“I’m good, I’ve got a lawn to trim,” she says, turning off her phone and tucking it back into her pocket.

“Awe, Sunshine, you ain’t gotta clean up for me.”

She tilts her head in confusion before shrugging and turning to leave.

“Gotta go out the other door, Sunshine,” he sighs, almost like he’s disappointed. Weird.

Jude still tries the door, but it won’t open from this side, so she grabs ahold of her pride and walks around the castle counter, moving as quickly as she can and keeping her head down to avoid getting any further education.

“Bye,” she waves her hand awkwardly as she hits the exit door.

“Bye, Sunshine.”

~~~~~

Mostly setup for the AU. Yes all the last names are keysmashes. Yes I did go on early 2 bed’s website and choose random buttons until I found a sex toy that seemed a little odd. (The nipple clamps are rechargeable because they vibrate.) Big thanks to the discord server for helping me with ideas!

Tag list: @cardan-greenbriar-tcp @hizqueen4life @slightlyrebelliouswriter23 @thewickedkings @aelin-queen-of-terrasen @cheekycheekycheeks @queen-of-glass @b00kworm @doingmyrainbow @andromeddea @jurdanhell @thesirenwashere @illyrianwitchling @courtofjurdan @clockworkgraystairs @st00pid231 @booksandlewks @fateandluminary

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[spectral-musette]

A scene set during the year Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan spent protecting Satine Kryze: a morning that the padawan and the young duchess spend alone together does not go quite as planned.

(warning for unpleasant parasitic space-bugs)

~2000 words

... 

         Satine found a seat on a boulder on the grassy hilltop.

           Obi-Wan was fairly far along through his lightsaber practice, bright blue blade humming as he moved as though defending against an invisible opponent. The morning was cool, overcast, but he’d still stripped off his tunics and boots, his bare feet occasionally visible through the tall grass. It was a while before he noticed her, focused as he was on his saber play. He paused, disengaging the glowing blade and walking towards her, chest heaving as he caught his breath.

           “Did you want me?” he asked.

           She felt her cheeks flush and her pulse quicken. Did she want him, oh ancestors forgive, did she want him?

           But his expression was all innocence, even as a glittering bead of sweat rolled through the fine dark hair over his heart and along its narrow path down his lean belly. She’d seen him in this state of undress before, but fleetingly, changing tunics in close quarters. This extended view was allowing fascinating insight for her as a student of medicine. And art. She swallowed hard.

           “I came to tell you that Qui-Gon left, walked down to the village to barter for supplies,” she replied, surprised by how smooth and tranquil her voice sounded. “He said to tell you there’s a storm coming in.”

           He nodded, still breathing fast, and bent to retrieve his boots, belt, and neatly folded pile of clothing, shifting the rock he’d placed on top of them to keep the wind from taking them.

           “You don’t have to stop. I don’t think the rain will start for a little while yet.”

           “I’m not really accustomed to having an audience,” he demurred, tucking the folded tunics under one arm and draping his boots and stockings over the other as he started down the hill. She stood to follow, brushing off the back of the long cardigan she’d pulled on over her sleeveless tunic.

           “That can’t be true. Qui-Gon said, at home in your Temple, many Jedi gather to watch others at saber practice.” She caught up with his long stride in a few quick steps.

           “That’s… different,” he countered.

           “Because I’m an outsider? I didn’t mean to intrude.”

           Unless he meant the lustful taint she brought to spectatorship, but surely he’d experienced that before as well - his fellow young Jedi couldn’t be wholly immune to the effects of his beauty and grace, especially if he made a habit of practicing without his tunics.

           “You didn’t do anything wrong,” he hastened to assure her. “It’s just different.” He favored her with a self-deprecating smile, a dimple appearing in his smooth cheek. “It’s embarrassing to admit, but I’m tempted to show off a bit when you’re watching.”

           She bit her lip to fight back a grin. “And you don’t show off for your friends at home?”

           “Sometimes,” he conceded. “But they know I’m doing it.”

           “And you think I didn’t?”

           “Well, you definitely do now.”

           “What if I said I didn’t mind that you want to show off for me?”

           “Well, it’s complicated,” he replied, thoughtful. “I don’t want you to think that I’m overly impressed with myself.”

           “I don’t think that. Even if you do swagger,” she teased.

           “I’m walking the only way I know how,” he defended against the familiar accusation.

           “Please. I’m a Mandalorian. I know a swagger when I see one.”

           “Will you be happier when it’s a limp? Because I think I just stepped on a thorn.” He paused, lifting his left foot gingerly.

           “You could’ve gotten dressed!”

           He shook his head. “Not until I wash up.”

           “Or put your boots on at least.”

           “Hindsight,” he sighed, dropping his clothes and boots on the grass and taking hold of his foot to examine it.

           “Is it a thorn?”

           He nodded, braid dangling over his bare chest as he attended to his injury. “I think so. But I can’t get a hold of it.”

           “Let me.”

           “It’s fine, you don’t have to…”

           “Oh just sit down, will you?”

           He obeyed, folding up his legs in a meditative posture that gave her a good view of his grass-stained foot. There was indeed a thorn right in the arch, so small that it was no wonder his close-trimmed nails couldn’t grip it. She pulled it free, a droplet of blood welling up from the tiny wound.

           “Blast,” he breathed. “My foot’s gone numb. I don’t think it’s actually a tho-“

           It shuddered between Satine’s fingers, jerking free and burying itself in her palm.

           She swore softly in Mando’a, reaching to pull it out again, but Obi-Wan stilled her hand with his. “Leave it for now, and get back to camp quickly. I’ll be right behind you.”

           Something in his tone kept her from arguing. She did as he ordered, glancing back over her shoulder to watch him limping along after her.

           Back in the shelter of the unassuming cabin built from old shipping crates that served as the Republic safe house, he stumbled in to retrieve the med kid and set it on counter of the kitchen unit, pulling out a bottle of antiseptic.

           “What is it?”

           “Bore-tick. They’re an invasive species, I had no idea they had a foothold here. They’re generally just a nuisance, but they can swarm if they smell enough blood.”

           “Charming,” she replied with a shudder. “So what are you doing?” she prompted as he opened the bottle.

           “They don’t release the toxin that makes you feel numb until they pull out. I’m hoping the antiseptic will kill it while it’s in there and deactivate the toxin.”

           “Hoping?”

           “Well it should be a short lived effect, anyway. Some species use them as a local anesthetic in traditional medicine.”

           He poured a splash of cold antiseptic into her palm, and she held the liquid, watching a tiny bubble form over the tick.

           Obi-Wan took a delicate pair of forceps from the kit, doused the ends in antiseptic, and tugged the long insect out of the wound on her hand.

           “Ouch!” she complained at the antiseptic sting.

           “So not numb, then?”

           “I wish.” She dropped the extra antiseptic into the sink and shook her hand dry.

           “You didn’t pick up any more when you were kneeling in the grass, did you?” he asked.

           She looked down, brushing at the knees of her trousers. “I don’t see any. You?”

           “I have an inkling,” he said with a pained expression.

           “Do you want me to check?” she asked, starting to step behind him.

           “Not really.” He turned, putting his back against the wall.

           She put her hand on her hip. “I’m a trained medic. I’ve pulled jetpack shrapnel out of more backsides than you can even imagine. Some of them were even as pretty as yours.”

           “Satine,” he complained.

           “I will be impeccably professional, I promise. Now, turn around.”

           She caught a quick glimpse of his flushed face before he faced the wall.

           “You’re in luck,” she told him, catching the twitching insect between the forceps and tugging it out of the fabric of the seat of his trousers. “You might’ve felt a pinch, but it didn’t make it through the layers.”

           “Good.”

           “I don’t see any on your back or your arms, either.” She examined him quickly, trying to ignore the appeal of his defined musculature, as she’d promised.

           “I don’t think they move very fast.”

           “Small blessings.”

           He took the forceps from her and returned to the counter, pouring the antiseptic over the tick.

           It seemed his hand was a little unsteady as the liquid continued to slosh out of the bottle. She put her hand on his, guiding the bottle back to the counter.

           “Not to be negative,” she said, “but your foot is looking… wrong.” It was swelling, purpling and blotchy.

           “Yes, well,” he replied, voice a bit strained, “reactions can vary.”

           Satine helped him over to one of the bunks before he lost his balance, then lunged for the pile of clothing he’d dropped by the door, looking for his commlink.

           “Qui-Gon,” she called into it.

           “Satine?” His voice sounded mildly surprised. “What’s wrong?”

           “Obi-Wan had a bore-tick in his foot. It’s turning purple and he’s …”

           “Get him in the fresher,” Qui-Gon ordered briskly. “Warm water, not too hot. The toxin will drop his body temperature, so you need to keep him warm. And keep him awake. I’ll be there as soon as I can with the antitoxin. Did you…”

           “In my hand, but I’m not having a reaction yet.”

           “Get in with him too, just in case.”

           “Will he be all right?”

           “I expect so, but do as I say.”

           Satine dropped the commlink and hurried to tug Obi-Wan unsteadily back to his feet.

           “Funny,” he mused, “Qui-Gon is usually telling me to take cold showers, lately.”

           “This isn’t the time for jokes.”

           “Who’s joking?”

           The water in the fresher warmed up quickly, and Satine stuffed Obi-Wan into the stall and climbed in after.  His knees started to buckle, but Satine propped him in the corner, draping one of his arms over her shoulder. She’d thought about taking off her cardigan before stepping into the water stream, but, upon further reflection, maybe it was for the best that at least one of them was wearing clothes.

           This was not exactly how she’d imagined sharing a fresher with him.

           She banished that thought quickly, directing the flow of water from the nozzle towards him. It might’ve been her imagination, but his skin did seem cool under her hands.

           “Fantastic job I’m doing of protecting you.”

           “Do you hear me complaining?” she inquired, nudging her forehead against his chest. His heartbeat felt strong, at least.

           “Satine.” He rested his chin on the top of her head. “I’m sorry.”

           “You’re ridiculous. This isn’t your fault.”

           “Nor is it exactly how I planned our morning together,” he confided, chagrined.

           “Let me just ask,” she said, shifting to look up into his unfocused eyes. “Bore-ticks cause partial paralysis, lethargy, hypothermia, and swarm when they smell blood, but you classify them as a nuisance? What would you call dangerous?”

           “Venom-mites,” he replied, with just a hint of a dimple. “How’s your hand?” he asked, changing the subject.

           She shifted to a one-armed hold around his middle so she could get a look at it. “Bleeding a little. Feels like it has a hole in it.”

           “No swelling or discoloration?”

           “No. Do you think it used up all its toxin on you?”

           “Possibly. Or the antiseptic worked. Or your industrious ancestors cultivated immunity to the toxins of a wide variety of venomous creatures and included that in your childhood inoculations.”

           “That doesn’t sound unlikely. I’m rarely grateful for the questionable hobbies of my forebears, but I’ll make an exception this time.”

           “As will I.” He leaned his head back and closed his eyes.

           “What did you plan?” she asked, tightening both arms around his chest again.

           “Hm?” He screwed his eyes more tightly closed.

           “For our morning together. Come on, Qui-Gon said you shouldn’t sleep. If you do, you’ll probably slip and I’ll drop you.”

           “Is that a threat?”

           “A prediction. Tell me what you planned,” she insisted.

           “I was going to invite you for a walk on the shore and ask if you liked Noorian epic poetry.”

           “I’m not familiar with any Noorian epic poetry. Do you think I’ll like it?”

           “I hope you will.”

           “Recite some.”

           “What makes you think I have anything memorized?”

           She raised her eyebrows. “Go on. Maybe it’ll keep you awake.”

           He took a deep breath, and she was temporarily transfixed by the rivulet of water tracing along his collarbone and down his chest.

           “For Thou art my lady

           And I swear all myself to thee:

           My arm to defend

           My hands to lift thee up

           My feet to carry me at thy bidding

           My ears to hear thy commands

           My eyes to watch over and adore thee

           My voice to counsel, comfort, and sing thy praise.

           My honor is thine by right

           And my soul for thy asking…”

           His voice faded to a murmur as he rested his cheek against her wet hair.

           “Does she ask?” she whispered.

           “Not at first.”

           “Don’t tell me. Tomorrow we’ll go to the shore, and you can read it to me.”

           “I think I’ll leave my boots on, though.”

           She smiled, looking up at him. He was a little pale beneath his faint spray of freckles, droplets of water from the nozzle spray glistening in his short hair. He smiled back, and he was so beautiful that it took her a moment to catch her breath.  “Me too.”