#to be clear this isn’t me be grouchy that other people are having fun this is me being autistic and hating noise

[greatestwizardofthisage]

there is a special place in hell for people who have garden parties in the evening

[prof-peach]

if fans wanted to include peach in stuff they write, would that be okay? and how would they write peach's personality? aside from "FIGHT ME" anyway, i think that much is a given lol. i only really write the anime characters 'cause that's what i know, but it sounds like it'd be kinda fun to try making a version of ash that fits into this blog's universe! nerf'd Obviously, but i think she'd probably appreciate how hands-on he gets when training his pokemon!

Ok, I get a lot of these messages, and I often hear folks wanting to throw peach into their stories and comics and writings, and I will always simply ask that if it’s published online publicly, to be linked to it so I can snoop and enjoy the content too. If someone asks about her in your work, let them know about the blog I guess? But literally I love that people take this stuff, these characters and stories, and make new stuff with it. No ones making money off my work here? So where’s the issue? Go for it buddy, knock yourself out, I’m all for it.

For you, and all the others out there who want to add peach, and other characters to your world building, I will give you a detailed rundown of the main lot, and how they behave, what they do, how they function. You can use that, use bits, or use none of it, I do not mind at all. If you’re creating something, you’re in control, not me.

So, peach doesn’t actually fight people as much as you’d think. She’s very aware most cannot and do not want to do that, and so she likes to keep to herself with regards to that aspect of her life, she doesn’t ask to spar with people, or even bring it up at all, but people ask her all the time, even if they clearly would lose or become hurt should she miscalculate during the fight. She looks at people like they usually create problems, and often has a somewhat reserved nature to other humans. You have to work quite hard to get anything more than formalities out of her. She will dead-pan handle people with blunt and very to-the-point statements, aid whenever possible, but very quickly get back to handling the Pokemon she so carefully tends. Her focus is clear, she’s all about hard work, her very small select family, and the Pokemon.

Her brutal, loud and brash personality only comes out with friends, family, difficult humans, OR any Pokemon. She will joke and laugh and play with Pokemon, but clam up around humans, maintaining tight body language and generally will be a little cold by regular standards. She does however have some weaknesses in this emotionless shield she puts up. When peach was young she was always angry, which swung so fast to sadness, back and forth. Her teenage years it just got worse and worse, it was crippling at points. She is to this day, full of fire and rage, even sadness, but now she has learnt to control it, to use it. When she sees that in others, it’s familiar, and she is pushed to drop the front, and be very real with the person. Underdogs I suppose, people who get bad reps, but deserve the same as everyone else. She can’t ignore it.

Once you start to pry open her personality, you’ll find she’s a lot more laid back and fun than originally appeared, you just have to work hard to find that side of her. She will meme reference, can’t dance to save her life, loves her coffee, and can be caught in quiet contemplation while gardening. This hobby is her calmest, and often is why she can stay so level headed when her quiet rage boils up again. Without time outside she will become grouchy, a little snippy, and lethargic. Will not go in the ocean for any reason other than life or death, is fine with ponds and rivers, or water at wading height. Likes the rain.

With regards to her training others, they usually have to tolerate her somewhat strict nature. She is a little....unforgiving, holds a grudge if you make a lot of mistakes, and has no tolerance for ignorance in the age of information that we all live in. In previous posts I’ve mentioned she’s only recently selected two students, after many years of testing kids who want to learn from her. Hundred tried out, only two have ever been approved. How she teaches is very fast paced, be prepared to get some scrapes and bruises, she will test your physical and emotional tolerances with intense tasks, carefully watching students like a hawk. Bad posture in your stance? She’ll be the first to tell you to sort it out. Not hearing your Pokemon partner? Right, now you spend the day without using words trying to communicate, let’s see how you like not being listened to.

This is a woman who has spent her life saying very little, and watching everything, she watches Pokemon and can see an issue from a mile off, and in battles, her observations are why she can react fast, and chose effective strategy to avoid damage and achieve results. Don’t let her body fool you, her strongest asset is analysing, watching, planning. Those skills have over the years transferred to people too. As a student, mistakes don’t go unnoticed with this professor.

Her methods are harsh but fair, and should you prove yourself, she will protect you with her life.

Because of her disinterest in kids and lots of noise, she does pass the training of students on to the other staff members whenever possible. Grey takes on the lions share of battle lessons, he is far calmer, more open and friendly, with patience for people, and an empathy that peach sometimes struggles to have. When you go through a lot of harsh training, and difficult events, it’s hard to change how you feel or think, with peach, well, she’s been through it. Most do not come out the other end in one piece, but she did, and it made her strong. You may think I mean strong like buff and big, and yeah sure she is, but I mean it mentally more than anything. Peach will not quit. She has learnt to destroy the boundaries that stop people getting hurt, gone is the fear that freezes you in your tracks, that feeling that you’ll pass out if you go one more step. She’s learnt to ignore it.

This means she’s a little forgetful at how it is to be normal, to be vulnerable and soft and squishy like students so usually are.

She has her issues, but for the most part, visitors get a laugh, a smile, a calm assertive confidence, and facts. She will indulge those who have genuine interest, or show a connection with nature, an understanding of the balance that needs to be struck for everyone to live well together.

Despite her many flaws, she’s fiercely protective, and will go above and beyond to defend the island, it’s staff, the Pokemon and the visitors. Injustice is her biggest gripe, along with littering, and she doesn’t stand by quietly if something happens that seems unfair.

You will not see her without Valka, her vulpix, close by. That Pokemon doesn’t like to be touched by strangers, at all, and will run the second someone comes at her with that intent. Peach will scold you for pushing yourself onto her, should you persistently try to get close to pet Val. They are in sync, if peach is sad, Val is sad, if Val is stressed, peach is stressed, and so on. They are inherently connected, it’s just been that long, the psychic bridge between them has been built, and reinforced over the years.

The only other Pokemon who follows her so endlessly is Booker, a teddiursa who’s pretty rough looking. He quietly trots behind, grouchy and stoic, they fight closely together a lot. He lost his mom a long time ago to poachers, and peach took him in, and changed her whole life for him. Not many people know, but Booker was the reason she left the rangers, changed career, and got so strong. Will tolerate people petting him but isn’t keen at all, grumbles a lot and tries to move away.

You may also need to know about the others, for the sake of writing, she here a few more bits that may be important to you, or others wanting to do this.

Grey is very tall, very burly, composed, tells bad dad jokes, is a bit of a goof if allowed to be. If he sees a pun, he’ll say it. Can’t help himself. Very nice guy to work with, good at keeping people calm and grounded. Pokemon are drawn to him like a moth to a flame, he gives off warm energy, and has inhuman amounts of patience. If you wrong his family however, he will snap back.

He grew up in the city, loves to swim and hike and cycle, can snowboard, is really sporty. A total brain box with held items, and boosting stats. He will explore many paths, to make sure visitors and students get the information they need, in a way that can be remembered and retained for later. Is a huge guy, but will get on the floor to play with a tiny Pokemon. Treats big “meaner” looking species like babies, very good with all pokemon.

His free time is spent either tinkering, swimming, or trimming his bonsai trees. This guy stares at screens a lot, so appreciates time away from them. Peach built him his own little greenhouse for his trees and tools, which he keeps clean and loves dearly.

His methods as a teacher are built around fun and games, he makes hard work easier to do by distracting trainers from the difficult bits, and focusing in on something more interesting or compelling.

His most commonly seen Pokemon would be a houndoom, Saxon, old battle veteran, retired now to herding and being a good boy. Very gentle, loves a pet.

Pari, now a fully fledged nurse, often oversees the labs front desk and pokecentre features, such as healing pokemon, and informing trainers who come to visit. Her skills with eggs and hatchlings is high, she’s great with younger Pokemon, and hands out good advice to trainers a lot. She’s not a fighter, never was, but can find any file, any study, any book, and any refrence you may need. A true bookworm, loves her romance novels, chat shows and upbeat celebrity gossip mags. Will cry at a lot of stuff, be it sad or happy.

She’s got a seriously upbeat personality, but if caught off guard or shocked, she gets a little flustered. Too much chaos will overwhelm her, but usually she’s on top of things. The years spent on the island have made her better at maintaining composure in emergencies. With lots of siblings, she’s very competent with others, and has a good ability to disarm cagey people with her jolly nature. Because of this, she can sometimes gain information from trainers that some of the more harsh professors may not have access to. Charming is a word for it.

Her partners are an eevee, and a happiny. They are quite sweet and well adjusted, the eevee gets a bit bouncy if you get it too excited.

[jangofctts]

Anything at All (boba fett x fem!reader) (part one) (part two) 

Rated: Explicit 18+

Word Count: 4.7k

Warnings: smut, even mORE thrONE fucking, oral sex (f receiving), boba’s a biter, unprotected sex (dont be silly, wrap thAT wiLLY), vaginal fingering, explicit language, boba is a grouchy dom kwjhgjh       

a/n: anyway I think yall forget im a writer and not just a Certified Clown, but anywAy here we be. HAPPY NEW YEARS ya FILTHY anIMALS im so thankful for all yall and im glad I can provide you with some entertainment kaejhejhr

  You haven’t seen Boba Fett in days. 

Called away on business you’ll never be included in or know the fine details about. It’s not kept away from you because he doesn’t trust you, or thinks you’re a mindless idiot—no—he’d rather keep his princess occupied with prettier things. No need to concern yourself with the the underbelly of what he now rules. 

You’re not upset about it—you’re not really a fan of watching petty squabbles that’ll result in someone’s chest being imploded by a blaster. You’ve seen enough of it in the cantina, and while you were never the one tasked with clearing the bodies out—it was still mildly traumatizing. Eh—no need to dwell. 

You’ve got other shit to do anyway. 

There’s a seemingly endless zigzag of secret hallways and dusty rooms within the palace, teeming with strange knickknacks and ancient artifacts that are more than likely cursed. Definitely haunted—but it doesn’t stop you from exploring or sorting through the useless junk. Besides—Fennec stayed behind, acting as your glorified babysitter for the past few cycles—ensuring your safety from both whoever dared step foot into the palace and the ghosts. What a lovely woman. 

Speaking of which—you hear her sigh and shuffle, shifting her weight onto her other foot as she leans back against a dusty crate. She picks at the dirt beneath her fingernails, lazily glancing up every now and then to check that you haven’t eviscerated yourself on a piece of scrap metal or something. Lucky for her, all you found today was an abandoned crate of old datapacs shoved in the back corner from what you assumed to be some sort of office. Yesterday you found a sword that was promptly confiscated.  

“I’d be careful snooping around in those,” Fennec warns as your fingers find the on switch. “You never know what sorta data the Hutts were keeping here.”

You shrug and wave away her concern, reading over the information that flickers across the screen. “I think I’ll be ok…See?” You pointedly wave the datapac in her direction. “This one is about the finances. Spooky.”    

Fennec rolls her eyes followed by an amused smirk that ghosts over her lips. You toss it aside and root around some more, pulling out another datapac. The blue hologram flickers to life and as you decipher the little lines of text your face falls. Each line is a name, previous and recently bought or traded people that crossed the threshold of the palace. Fennec was right. This isn’t fun anymore.    

“These are…slaves.” Your lips curls in disgust. “How is this still not outlawed? It’s barbaric.”      

“You’re not from Tatooine, are you?” Fennec asks as she meanders over and wrestles the datapac out of your hands. She switches it off and tosses it back into the dusty crate. You huff and cross your arms over your chest.  

“No,” you agree. “Im from Arkanis. But even there we don’t have slaves.” 

Fennec squats beside you, her elbows resting over her bent knees. She playfully taps your shoulder with the back of her hand and quirks a brow. “What’d I tell you—snooping doesn’t do anyone any good.”

You roll your eyes and shrug, a frown still etched on your lips. Fennec sighs, rubs her chin and then reaches out to push a stray hair behind your ear. A flush blooms up your cheeks at the gentle touch. 

“You have a sensitive soul, Kitten,” she chuckles, poking at your cheek that you’re certain she can feel the heat emirate from. “You said you were from Arkanis—tell me about it. Why come to Tatooine?”

Your lips quirk in a tiny smile as you bat away her pointer finger, saving your cheek from another poke. “Hey—not everyone likes rain ok?” You huff. “Besides, Tatooine wasn’t supposed to be permanent.”

She nods. Unsure what exactly to tell her--a silence ensues. It’s not terribly awkward but it’s enough that makes you jumpy and itching to move on from this room now stained with information you weren’t prepared on finding. You stand suddenly, brush yourself off and mutter under your breath about finding something less…heartbreaking. 

Fennec jumps up as well and when you leave the room her hand clamps over your shoulder. She spins you around and levels her gaze onto you. “You’re free to leave whenever you like. You know that right?”

Your brows furrow. “I know—don’t worry, I want to stay.”

Her head bobs with a satisfied nod. “We’d miss you if you left. You’re nice to have around.”

You blush again and mumble out a thank you, shooting off into another unexplored location to escape Fennec’s knowing smirk. Maker—you’re embarrassing.  

                               -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Boba returns later that afternoon—the shadow of his familiar figure stretches around the curved stairway, the purposeful stomps of his boots against the carved steps following with it. Your heart flutters within your chest, like a distressed creature with wings as you jump from your makeshift seat.

You come face to face with Boba. Or, helmet rather—whatever. 

The smell of hot metal and dry air sticks to him as he paces closer, closing the small gap that separates him from you. You’re frozen beneath the heavy weight of his stare behind the void like black of his visor as he plants himself firmly before you, close enough that his cuirass could brush your chest if he puffed out his own chest.   

“Hi…” You smile, a fragile vale of uncertainty blanketing the pair of you—still attempting to feel out his mood, sort through the general gruffness of his personality and gage wether or not you could reach out and touch him. The helmet is a tricky thing to read and his body language gives nothing away. You swallow your nerves take a leaping risk.   

“Let me see your face.” You murmur. You move your hands up to the edges of his helmet at a snail’s pace, giving him ample time to slip through your fingers—wedge a sharp thorn between whatever it is that you’ve built and name it for what it is.

He doesn’t choose that option. 

With a low hum, Boba dips his helmet closer to your outstretched fingertips instead. The metal is cool under your palms as they fold over the sides of the helmet and pull up. The metal whispers against his skin like wind through tall grass as the point of his chin peeks out, followed by his lips, his nose, and finally those golden brown eyes. They glitter with amusement as you release a shaky breath, the helmet the only thing acting as a barrier as you clutch it near your sternum. His mouth quirks when you blush and glance away—focusing on the little silvery nicks the green paint refused to cover. You rub your thumb over the blaster pockmark that dents the metal—you frown. You hope that wasn’t recent. 

Boba gently pries the helmet out of your hands and sets it onto the armrest of his throne. He purrs your name and pinches your chin between his forefinger and thumb, leading your attention back to him. Your eyes flit up his scars—your breath catching in your throat as he smiles.

“Hello, princess,” he says—the grit and timbre of this new nickname jumpstarting your heart to skip and choke on its own tireless beat.

You roll your bottom lip between your teeth and shake your head. “Boba, I’m not—“

He doesn’t let you finish your sentence—

Boba spreads his fingers over your jaw, tilts your head and swoops down to meet your lips in a dizzying kiss. Hard, hungry, victorious, breathless—like he’s spent years fighting and only now takes a moment to slow down—drown in the softness of your lips and skin. His hands claw at your arms, your clothes, your hair—like you’re the spoils of battle and he fears losing you to the shadows of his past and some hidden horror that nips at his heels. He kisses like a man terrified that this will be brief, intangible and something that’ll abandon him.

He trails after your lips when you break away—your lungs heaving for precious air. He doesn’t let you go far, ensuring your positioning by tangling his fist into your hair at the nape of your neck and scraping his lips up your cheek, enticing you into another kiss. You tilt you chin to meet him with equal fervor, whining as his warm tongue curls sweetly into your mouth. His existence fills your veins with liquid silver—evokes the bloom of crackling star fire beneath the cavity of your ribcage. Every thought starts with him and ends with your heart aching to burst into a million tiny shards.   

The next time you part,  Boba is the first one to pull away. He cups your cheeks between his weathered hands and plants a tender kiss just below your hairline. You swear you can feel the skin buzz from the touch—like every atom in your being was solely created for him to command and conquer. You sigh and lean into his palm. 

“I missed you.” You admit with a small smile. 

Boba leans closer and presses another kiss to your forehead. “And I you, little one.”

“I got worried, y’know,” you continue, your fingers tapping a trail up the front of his chest plate. You trace the repainted insignia with your fingernail and flash him a coy smirk. “You never called—thought maybe you found a new pretty thing.”

He grunts, shakes his head and sweeps a rogue strand of hair behind your ear. “Hilarious—my hands are full enough with you hounding me every five minutes.”

You puff out your bottom lip and feign offense, mumbling some lame whine like a petulant brat. Boba snorts and crowds closer. He presses his gloved thumb between your furrowed brows, smoothing out the wrinkles and then cups your cheeks between both palms. You freeze as he carefully knocks the crown of his forehead onto yours—it’s sweet.

An excited smile splits when he moves his head to your right, the syllables of each word rolling off his tongue sweeter than spiced honey. “I’ll make it up to you, pretty thing,” he whispers by your ear, his warm breath disturbing the fine hairs there. “How does that sound, hm?”

That’s not even a question you would ever dream of denying—you quickly nod. “I’d like that.” 

Boba drops his hands from your face and peels himself away. His eyes trickle down your figure—calculative and analytic—planning out each move to pick apart the entirety of your being. “Take everything off.”

You comply without a second thought—slipping free from the breezy cotton and scratchy poncho you stole from a storage room. The fabric pools at your feet in an unceremonious pile—leaving you bare for him. Despite the sickening dry heat that pollutes the air and causes beads of sweat to gather at your hairline—goosebumps rush up your arms under Boba’s piercing stare. 

Boba’s eyes flicker to the throne. A feral grin tugs at his lips. “Sit.”

This time you hesitate. Did he…? No—you must’ve heard wrong— 

He quirks a brow and gestures to the throne. “Well? Are you going to listen?”

Your tongue slides over your chapped lips. “O-ok..I just—never mind…”

Scrounging up some courage, you gingerly seat yourself onto Boba Fett’s throne. Chills race along the entirety of your body as the freezing metal seeps into your warm flesh. You squirm and beat away the urge to wrap your arms around yourself—he wouldn’t like that—probably would take it as some sort of insult anyway—

All your current discomforts melt away in a fraction of a breath as Boba Fett lowers himself to one knee, and then the other. A king kneeling before his very own throne for someone like you. Someone who’ll be lost to the pages of history and the endless swirl of galaxies and supernovas—you’re nobody to the world, but to him you’re everything. You inhale a shaky breath as a strange stroke of pride alights through your body as he peels off his gloves and maneuvers himself flush against the edge of the throne and between your thighs.    

Boba bows forward and slips his calloused hands around your ribcage to tug you closer. His lips land over your collar bone, slides his tongue over the protrusion then sinks his teeth into you there. You gasp as he slides lower, leading a trail of bruises and teeth marks in his wake. Boba moves his palms, up and in to grab at your breasts, the flats of his fingertips rolling over your nipples. A whimper escapes past your lips as he catches the pebbled bud between his lips, the hard enamel of his teeth scraping over it—meant to tease. Your nails dig into the fabric bunched around his neck as he moves on to suck your other nipple, the cooling saliva sending a chill down your spine as it dries.

You squirm, unable close your legs or to relieve some of that burning tension collecting in your core. You’re already wet—worked up and impatient. You roll your head back onto your shoulders and bite your lip. If you complain and tell him to hurry up you’re scared he’ll leave you like this—deny you that pleasure you’ve been craving for days.  

It feels like ages before he moves on from your breasts, now smattered with bruises and his saliva, and carves out a blinding path down your sternum, your belly, then your navel with his tongue. Boba circles your bellybutton—you force down the ticklish nerves and stay still for him. 

You don't mean to jump as his rough hands drop over your knees. You barely get out the first syllable of an apology when his hands slip up your bare thighs, curl around the swell of your ass and yank. You squeak as the edge of the throne bites into your tailbone, the majority of your lower half forced to lean on Boba’s shoulders and his greedy hands. He kisses the inside of your knee—you jolt with an airy gasp. 

Boba picks up his head and smirks. “Look at me when I taste you, little one.”

Mouth suddenly drier than dust, you nod dumbly. 

He hums, satisfied with your weak response and continues on.  

Boba’s bare fingers trace minuscule patterns into the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, coaxing out a shiver. They sweep up towards the apex of your thighs, settling close enough to reach your aching center. You know he’s there—it’s impossible to ignore him—but you curse anyway when you feel his thumbs softly part the lips of your soaking cunt. They steadily work up and down, smearing your wetness around but never enough to give you any friction. You bite back a groan as your hips unconsciously twitch. 

“Patience, princess,” he rumbles, shifting his weight to better reach your cunt. “Maker—you’re dripping already.”   

There's a moment just before Boba commits, his face hovering close enough that you can feel his sticky, hot breath, anticipation gripping your chest. And then he licks a broad stripe from the base of your pussy all the way up to your swollen clit. 

His mouth Is searing, his tongue like liquid velvet as you shudder and grab at his head. He grunts against you as you drag him closer—greedy for everything he deems you worthy of. Boba’s mouth pinpoints around your clit, sucking and tracing circles over the bundle of nerves with the tip of his tongue. Your eyes flutter—it’s a struggle not to shut them completely. He asked you to watch after all… 

He then trails lower, sucks on your labia, and makes his way down to your entrance. The wet heat of his tongue circles your entrance, skips over it completely to lick at the wetness dripping lower that threatens to pool onto the throne or the floor. He opens his mouth wide and hums in appreciation, devouring your pussy like he’s been denied this his entire life. 

“Fuck—Boba,” you cry, canting your hips into his mouth. 

It's perfect. So fucking good. 

The tips of his thick fingers, two of them, press at your entrance, teasing the fluttering ring of soft muscle before sinking in. The two digits slip in with ease—all the way up to the second knuckle and when he draws them back, they're slick with your wetness, glinting in the low light. With a smirk, Boba thrusts them back in, then out—setting a steady pace that he refuses to stray from. It leaves you just hovering along the sharp edge of oblivion, the catch of his knuckles and calloused skin along your walls pure torture. Stars—he’s going to be the death of you—

Your hips arch into him, trying to urge him to go faster. Instead, he slowly retracts his fingers and removes his mouth. You gasp in frustration as your cunt clenches around thin air. It almost hurts. 

“I told you to be patient,” Boba chuckles, massaging a warm palm along the outside of your thigh. “You’re behaving like a brat.” 

“I’m—I—I’m sorry—“ You wheeze, trying to rope in some self control that fled a long time ago. Your wits are scrapped thin as you throw your hand against the back of the throne. You don’t care that he’s rendered you to a begging mess, your words slurred and hardly understandable. You're so close to diving off the edge—so near to those plush lips and weathered hands that’ll surely become your salvation. "Please! P-please—I need..." 

You're babbling as he drags his fingertips over your thigh, skims over your cunt, and traces a pattern into your opposite thigh. "Boba. Fuck. I pro-promise to be better—I can do it. Please—“

He complies.

Two fingers are thrust up into your dripping cunt, curving so deliciously into something that feels like unrefined plasma bolts. His mouth dips down and sucks on your clit and with a few more curls and thrusts of his fingers inside of your clenching walls, your body seizes up tight. 

You're flying off you’re high, faster than a fucking speeder with tampered gears. You cum onto his tongue with a strangled cry of his name, sparks of blurry white lining the edges of your vision as your back arches. Boba keeps licking you through your orgasm, even as you buck and squirm in his iron hold. Stars implode behind your eyelids as heat, hotter than wildfire and jetfuel spreads from your center all the way up your stomach and down to your toes. You're shaking, lucid enough to hear Boba, and feel the vibration of his groan, as he licks up the flood of your wetness over his tongue. 

Your brain swims in hazy bliss and fuzzy pleasure as you float back to reality. He's still curling his fingers into your pussy and it hurts. You're too sensitive. Your nerves are rubbed raw and you're still throbbing—but you're too fucked out and still riding the waves of your orgasm to push him away. He takes this opportunity to tilt his fingers into your cunt faster, suckle and lave his tongue over your clit that burns from overstimulation—somehow you're back at the very edge again.

It's sharper than a blade against flesh. Your thighs quiver around him as he twists his fingers inside you and bumps agains that tiny, little patch of nerves that wrenches a cry from you. Your orgasm floods through you veins, bursting and rupturing every cell in your being. This one is blistering—charrs all the way to the fucking bone. Your core pulses around Boba’s fingers, fucking you through it until those burning waves of release eventually cease into a dull throb. You whimper and push at his forehead because he's still licking at your cunt. You panic a bit—fucking hell, he’s gonna make you cry—but he pulls away, his mouth and chin wet with your slick. 

Boba leaves absolutely no time to completely float down from your high—you squeak as his hands shoot up to grab at your hips, wrenching you off the throne and all but throwing you onto the same floor he kneels on. You flash him a dopey grin, letting your legs fall open for his enjoyment—

“Such a filthy princess,” he chuckles, extending a hand to cover your knee, bending it further out to expose more of your flushed cunt. “You taste sweeter than star cherries.”

You preen at his compliment. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

It earns you an amused huff. Boba scrapes the hand resting on your knee to the apex of your legs, thumb and forefinger gently parting your delicate, slick folds. You bite back a keening whine, utterly exposed to him as he slips the hood back from the throbbing knot of nerves at the top of your slit. Too raw. Your pussy clenches involuntarily, causing everything from your toes to your hips stiffen. Boba hums in delight at his handiwork. 

“Stars, Boba—please…” You beg, voice breathy and soft like whips of spider silk. Boba makes a sound that oozes with smug pleasure, teasing your sore clit with unadulterated glee. “Please,” you hear yourself whimper over your pounding pulse, shifting in his grasp and praying he’ll put an end to this sickly sweet torture.

“Pretty little thing, begging for my cock…” He rasps, darkly threaded sin and the husky scrape of the gray sea licking up jagged, black rock. You’re certain he could talk you into unraveling at the seams, untouched and putty in his hands for him to mold and shape. Boba’s other hand sweeps up your sternum, his fingertips dancing along the mythosaur pendant coiled around your neck. He then curls his thick fingers around the base of your throat and ever so lightly squeezes. “Poor baby—all worked up after a few days…I’ll fix that for you.” 

Before you can fully process, he grabs the swell of your hip and flips you onto your belly. The air from your lungs is knocked out of your chest, the abrasive sandstone bitting into the points of your elbows and patches of your skin and no doubt leaving behind irritated scrapes. You hear the shuffle of fabric and then Boba suddenly seizes your hips and arches them into his crotch, grinding the deliciously hard length of his cock through your wet folds. Throbbing and just as desperate as you are, Boba refrains from flinging you into another bout of teasing. He slicks himself up with your arousal and drags the tip of himself to your clenching center and sinks that first, glorious inch inside of you. 

With a low groan, Boba pushes in deeper, watching your tight hold flutter and accommodate his thick length. It’s the same as before during that night in the cantina—dreadfully full and all but bursting at the seems. The gentle rocks of his hips and gravelly praise eventually allow him to finally bottom out, his sharp hipbones resting against the swell of your ass as you shudder and groan. Fuck—

You can feel him in your fucking guts. 

Boba grants you a brief moment to settle and then—it’s catastrophic. 

Your jaw drops in a silent scream when he pulls back, all the way to the tip and slams back into your tight heat. Boba’s hand tangles into your hair at the nape of your neck and and pulls, forcing your back into a sharp arch. The action leaves more of you open, somehow pressing in even further. He hits so deeply within you—stars it feels like he’s splitting you open and laying you bare. 

His dark chuckle resonates above you—a bit breathy as he tames his own frazzled nerves. “Shit—that feels good. Doesn’t it, princess?”

Your incoherent babble makes him laugh as he gives your hair a playful tug, all the while he never stops thrusting in and out of you. You wiggle your hips, the slight shift makes it ache, and the sharp downward thrusts put delirious pressure on that patch of nerves that renders you dizzy. Every muscle in your body feels like it’s a tightly spooled cable, fraying and an inch away from snapping. Your gasping breaths pitch into airy squeaks as the fist twisted in your hair tightens, tugging your head back just a bit more.

Boba lurches foreword, the nip of beskar a frigid shock to the bare skin of your back when he lays over you, his elbows caging you in close. His head drops onto your shoulder blade, pressing sloppy kisses over the arch of your throat and slope of your shoulder—without warning he sinks his teeth into the juncture of your neck. Maker save you—

The feral drag of Boba’s teeth digging into your sensitive flesh skin makes you squeeze around his cock—Boba answers with a soft growl that vibrates against the skin of your shoulder. Somehow he fucks into you harder, his pace becoming brutal. Your nails scrabble against the floor, searching for some sort of anchor as you wail under him.

It’s too much—fuck, you’re gonna implode. Pinned between the rough sandstone and the hand in in your hair, mixed with the sharp pain of his teeth marring your skin—you loose it. Sensing your peaking orgasm, Boba’s fingers wedge between your legs to toy with your clit. He rubs quick circles with two fingers as he purrs words of filth into your ear—how good his pretty thing is for him, how well you came for him, how tight you are. 

“There you go, little one,” Boba says, his words like a tendril of dark smoke. “Cum for your king.”   

His efforts are quickly rewarded as you shudder and lock up harder than durasteel beneath him. A blinding surge of vicious heat, knocks you clean off your feet and steals away all the air left in your lungs as your nails dig into the sandstone—trembling and grappling blindly for a foothold in your own head. The cold chest plate is a much needed anchor for the overwhelming intensity that threatens to drown you and bury you six fix under.   

He bites down again when he cums, his hips digging into you with short, rough jabs. “Fuck—you take me so well.” You squirm, feeling his cock throb and spill into you, making the mess between your legs smear over your thighs. His thrusts stutter to a stop as he sighs deeply and pulls out, a mixture of his cum and your arousal spilling onto the floor. Boba huffs above you, drags a finger through your swollen folds and pushes it back inside of you. “Good girl.”

You shiver—reduced to a useless puddle with no intent from moving off the floor as Boba’s weight moves away. You could sleep here—that’s something completely plausible you think. Nice, warm dirt—

Boba purrs your name—the sound piquing your interest enough that you overcome the heaviness that’s settled in your body and move your head. He’s returned to his throne, cheeks a bit flushed and his chest rising and falling to recover precious air. You watch as Boba peels off his cuirass with practiced ease, and lays it with care onto the floor. He murmurs your name a second time and pats his lap, coaxing you off the floor. 

You happily slither onto his thighs, exhausted and all too eager to be swept up into the warmth of his arms. He grunts as you tuck your head under his chin and cuddle into his chest, relishing the rough scrape of his palms folding over your shoulder and the outside of your thigh. His soft breaths tickle the top of your head paired with the quiet, but steady rhythm of his heart beating beneath your fingertips and ear pressed onto his sternum. Your eyes flutter shut and though a hushed silence falls over the room, there’s nothing to be said. 

Boba tucks his nose into your hair and you smile, the slow speak of your heart unraveling into a lush garden of something new and brittle—like flakes of frost in the early morning sun. He’s more bruise than bleed nowadays—a wound closed then reopened and he promises nothing of a future beyond what you have in these moments. And yet—

You wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world. 

taglist: @goldafterglow @djxrxn @velvetmel0n @steeeeeeeviebb      @stargazingcarol @ohiobluetip @anxiety-riddled-mando @absurdthirst @thesoftdumbass @huliabitch @max--phillips @silverfish-kingdom @krissology @teaofpeach @pettyprocrastination @nelba​ @beskars​ @jango-fettish​ @corrupt-fvcker​ @cobbvader​ @maybege​ @clonewarslover55​ @auty-ren​ @legally-a-bastard​ @bigdickdindjarin​ @thesparkleslugs​ @cryptid-candy​ @mandowhorian​ @pascaliprincess​ @mitchi-c​

[arcadejohn127-9]

ok so,,, *slides u mc idea* (YOU DON'T HAVE TO DO THIS IF YOU DON'T WANT TO!!! I JUST WANTED TO SHARE THIS!!!)

MC that doesn't have any energy during the day, just moping around all tired. But from like, 12 AM to 6 AM, really energized and would go out and do the most Chaotic Shit TM. You know when you just come up with some crack idea at 2 AM? MC every goddamn night. Probably tried making a bathtub fly.

(if you do want to do this, please do the brothers and the undateables ^^)

XD WHY IS THIS ME???!!!!! I'm always so tired and never leave my bed but it could be 1 am and suddenly I rise from the dead and just do random things around the house

Though these aren't chaotic, mostly just the boys trying to stop you as they're tired and want to sleep but you're messing around too much. I tried to base it off my own activities and things that would seem funny - sorry if you wanted something more chaotic but I couldn't think of anything

Lucifer:

When he learned about your strange late morning/early morning shenanigans

He saw it was a way for you to finally get your school work done

Every room - and I mean EVERY - had a textbook from your different class with notes, he goes to bed late so he put them their before he tucked in for the night

He could hear your distress at the continuous reminder of work you needed to do

You knew this was his work so you went to his room

Climbing on his bed and just walked over his body

"Stop it, I'm trying to learn how to replicate the set ups from home alone."

"You can do that after doing your coursework, I'm being merciful with you, don't push it."

You just threw yourself down beside him

Pretending to suddenly fall asleep and began to loudly fake snore

You remained like that whilst Lucifer tried to ignore you

He took this as a sign of war

He was going to monitor you all day if he has to, he refuses to let your bad grades affect their image

But you got bored of snoring and left

He felt relief; his desire to sleep over weighing his desire to force you to study

When you came back with a toy gun you altered to shoot golf balls he knew thing's weren't going well

"The-more-you-pressure-me-the-more-I-won't-study."

You shot at his lower body between each words

This was definitely war

Mammon:

He was sleeping just fine until he heard his car rev up

He bolted awake and saw that his car was on, a string of curses coming from inside

He knew of your weird habit of becoming energised at ridiculous times but he wasn't expecting you to do this

He could tell it was you by your voice

He stormed up the stairs towards his car

"Oi! What are you doing in my car? Go to bed!"

You finally were able to turn off the car, just leaning on the wheel casually as if you didn't just accidentally turn it on

"I'm just cruising~ nothing to see here!"

He wasn't amused

He got you out of his car and strung you over his shoulder, scolding you for being so irresponsible and slightly bragging about how much trouble you'd be in if it weren't for him

You tried to explain you were just pretending to drive but you saw the keys still inside and got curious

He just threw you on his bed and held you, hiding his blush in his pillow

You let him fall asleep but when you tried to escape it ended up with your shoulders in a head lock and your ass stuck in the air

It seems your productive night has came to an end

Levithan:

It was a fifty - fifty chance that levithan was awake or not

But Lucifer gave him an earful about staying up late as it's effecting grades

So you betted he was asleep and your desire to game and wonder aroulnd his room set itself in motion

What made it awkward, was when you came in you heard a suspicious girly moan come from his headphones

You both just stared at each other, unmoving

"Uh- this isn't- this is just a dream, this is definitely not happening."

You checked out the game he was playing; recognizing it to be a dating sim he's been following the development of

You just nodded, shuffling over to his set up

"Scoot over dream levi, I wanna see the hot babes."

He got even more embarassed; face completely red as you sat on your player 2 chair

You put your hand on his, forcing his finger to click the mouse and watched what was happening on screen, listening to the loud music from his headphones

Luckily, the voice acting was just suspicious - like most animes - and it was a fairly cute game

You did end up swirling around in your chair aroulnd his room

Both of you coming up with strategies to get the best girl to like you

Though, too much moving and spinning made you and the chair fall over

You bonked Into his bathtub, your ribs squishing against the rim after the trip

Levi let you make all the gaming decisions to make up for it

Satan:

He planned to have some late night reading, hoping it'll make him tired enough to actually sleep

He found you sitting on the floor in the library

Torn books and littered paper was surrounding you

Then he noticed the paper stars and cranes pouring out from your lap as you froze mid fold

"That's....a thousand stars and cranes - where did you get all this paper from?"

"......the books belonged to me before you assume anything!"

He slowly nodded

He wasn't a fan of the destruction of books but they were yours so he couldn't say anything

He felt odd just leaving you in the barely lit library

Just folding paper who knows how long

He asked if you were hungry, guessing you've been awake for a long time

You just shoved paper into your mouth and began chewing

He was horrified

You immediately spat it out, cringing

"that was a bad idea.... that was gross."

He's going to get you food

When he came back he felt more energised; walking around will do that for you

So he decided to just stay with you whilst you folded the many pages of your destroyed books

It was around 6 am when you finally yawned; Satan fell asleep already

You looked at the fire place, your tired brain screaming for arson

He woke up as he heard your fits of poorly muffled giggles

You were throwing your stars in the fire as you sat a fair distance from it

When you threw the cranes, accepting some didn't fly far enough and didn't burn, he asked what you were doing

"It's survival of the fittest, only the strongest cranes survive in this paper world."

Asmodeus:

You were already in his room, you've been sleeping in it almost all day

So when you finally got out you looked around, spotting the makeup kit he got in a sponsorship

He lets his brother's or you use it as it's a spare

But if you touch his stuff; you will perish

So you decided to use that one, practising all sorts of looks and tried not to laugh when you made yourself a clown

You decided to stay in the clown makeup and go into his practice room

What was his practice room?

Well, he hates exercising Infront of people as he'll be sweaty and his hair will get ruined

So that's where he goes but the real magic was the pole in the middle of it

You felt a spark of inspiration

Looking up tutorials on your phone on how to pole dance

It did not go great

You were sliding too fast

Falling over and when you tried to spin, you would just get stuck

"I love you but if you keep disturbing my beauty sleep I will throw you out the window."

He was grouchy; his hair was barely smoothed out and arms crossed

You hugged the pole you were slowly sliding down; a long loud screech coming down

You definitely felt like a clown

"Sorry- you look handsome already so is there really any need for beauty sleep?"

He blushed, agreeing he was beautiful before giving you a "I will end you" smile

You got the hint, flattery wasn't going to work

Perhaps your pole dancing adventures can wait

Beezlebub:

He was aware of your strange energy burst at night, you were talking about it with him the other day

He's been wondering if he would ever spot you and tonight he did

He found you in the kitchen

Just chipping away at the frost on the top of the freezer trays with a small knife

He crouched down behind you, picking you up

Beel let you sit on his thigh and began to eat anything he could get his hands on

Meanwhile you were aggressively stabbing the formed ice

"Why are you doing that?"

He grabbed a handful of the ice chunks that fell from your stabbing

"Not sure what I want to do tonight and the build up was bothering me."

He didn't need to know anymore, just nodding and letting you do your own thing whilst he ate

He cleared out the entire fridge in no time

Letting you eat anything you wanted whilst you were hard at work

He noticed one part of the ice wasn't giving it to your stabbings

He just gripped it and easily broke it off

You thanked him and ignored how he was able to eat the big block with breaking it

Whenever something was too stubborn he would just break it off for you

It went on like that until you were satisfied

You closed the empty freezer and turned to your assistant

"Good work, but I'll need your help again, I can't reach the top cupboard and I know it's big enough to let me sit in it."

He got to eat more so he had no issue, helping you get into the cupboard once he was done clearing it out

Belphegor:

You were so energised yet you couldn't think of what to do

You put a spell on you to stop you from feeling pain and began to let yourself roly-poly down the hallways

You penciled rolled abit too fast at one pointand ended up thumping down the stairs

You were thankful the spell worked

It got to the point you just kept rolling around until you couldn't anymore

You padded the broom closet

Immediately doing a double take when you noticed a body In the darkness

You went over and turned on the closets light

"is there a reason you're sleeping in the broom closet?"

Belphie was grumbling, trying to hide his face from the light

He glared up at you for disturbing his sleep

"Is there a reason you're rolling around the house?"

"Touchè."

You ended up dragging belphie around the house

You felt like you committed a crime and it was fun

He was fast asleep and you were bored

You dragged him by the ankle and tried to keep his body from banging into anything along the way

You ended up bumping into Beel, he was looking for his twin, and he noticed you were dragging him

Belphie slightly woke up, waving at his brother before going back to sleep

Beel carried the two of you back to the his bedroom; hugging you both

If it weren't for these warm beefy arms you would be free! Free to terrorise all the shadows in the room

You gave up your night activities when even Belphie wrapped an arm around you

UNDATEABLES↓

Diavolo:

Dia was sneaking around the house, hoping not to run into his butler

He didn't want be to be sent back to bed

He was planning to have a light night snack and see how you were going

He knew you were always doing something during the nights, it surprised him when he found out because you were always in bed whenever he saw you

He checked your bedroom and didn't see you in your bed

Suddenly, he noticed a pile of black by his feet

He saw you, scrunched up on your back with the little D's covering your body, all hugging you

"oh! I almost didn't spot you under there, are you alright?"

"I'm great~ you should join me."

The little D's You were able to scratch were purring in their sleep

He found the sight adorable as he crouched down

"I'm teaching them to love me so they can willingly become armour for when I take over the Devildom - we'll be like the rat king!"

He just quietly laughed; the prince helping you pet and scratch the little D's

He agreed you'd make a good ruler

Though he had to force himself to be silent as you started chanting whispers of 'You will be my armor' and 'rat king'

Decided to leave you and your brain washing, going to the kitchen like he intended

Though when he walked past your room again you and the little Ds weren't there

He found you in his room, pouting and dangling off the chandelier

He helped you down, asking what was wrong

You told him the little D's banished you from the cuddle pile because you kept trying to make them move as one being

He patted your head and told you you'll become the overlord some day

Barbatos:

"Why are you making pudding at 3 am?"

He already knew why, just like he knew you were here hence why he visited you

But that didn't stop him from asking

He knew you liked it when he showed his intrigue in things even if he already knew about them

"my hands demand to CREATE- oops sorry - hopefully that didn't wake anyone."

He was always surprised to see you up and about during the nights

He was always the one looking after you in the morningsa; making sure you ate and had a drink

Whilst you just laid in bed, always barely awake and unmotivated

He stayed with you, watching over you as you made your pudding

Making soft spoken discussion as he guided you through any steps you seemed to become hesitant in

You ended up making 10 batches of pudding

Barbatos eating a few whilst he watched you

When you grew bored of pudding making you ate the cups he didn't eat

Saving a few for lord Diavolo in the fridge

He complimented your pudding, telling you that they were very delicious

You felt proud; having a spark to make more food

He told you what would be best during this time of night and helped you

Though it did end up with the both of you covered in flour and barb slipping on a dropped egg

You both thought it was best to clean up and stop for the night

He was very embarassed he made a fool of himself

Solomon:

He didn't expect to find you in his working space

He knew you would be awake but didn't even think of you doing what you're doing right now

"is there a reason you're drinking my potions like their shots? I must say this is rather interesting - how many did you have?"

You wiped your mouth, your hiccup coming out as exploding bubbles

You looked at the small glass viles, and saw ALOT of them empty

More than you realized

"uh- 3?"

he just chuckled, reading the notes you made

The notes was recording what each potion did to you

He was thankful you remembered this was his safe batch

Unknown to him you in fact did NOT remember and was having a Russian roulette game with them

He sat with you, making a cure for your explosive hiccups

You happily drunk it and felt better

He laughed more when he saw your scribbles; drawing what happened to you

Solomon will be making you his potion tester from now one so beware

Simeon:

He was an early riser; awake by 3 am and usually did some writing or watched TV until he got tired again

He had a mug of tea, shuffling through the dorm

He's hung out with you plenty of times whilst you cure your late night boredom

But he was surprised when he saw you in the living room, mini flashlight in your mouth and scrubbing the floors with a sponge mop

"Oh, you don't need to clean - that's very sweet of you but don't you think it's abit early to do this?"

You looked at him, semi blinding him with the flashlight

Immediately took it out of your mouth and apologized

You agreed it was but you wanted to do it as you've been meaning to for the past week

He just nodded, letting you do your own thing whilst he enjoyed his drink

But you suddenly felt awkward; no longer wanting to clean now that someone was in the room

You made your way over to him, climbing on the coffee table and jumping onto the sofa

He was curious on why you weren't doing your thing anymore

"dunno know, just feels awkward when people watch me do stuff."

He suggested leaving you be, saying he'll stay in his room

But now you felt bad because he wanted to rest in the living room

In the end, he helped you clean and you both fell asleep in the bathtub, cuddling up with towels working as padding and a blanket

Luke:

You liked creeping Luke out

It was fun, so far you've convinced them that you're a type of demon that watches bad children whilst they sleep

But really you just wanted to feel like a cryptic, sitting in the corner of his room on a cupboard

It wasn't long for him to wake up from your staring

"I'm going to tell Simeon if you keep staring at me."

You wanted to laugh; he really was a child

Luke wasn't aware that you were a night owl, he just assumed you were always tired and sleeping

He liked to help you around the house and look after you when he could

It almost made you feel had

Almost

He's been extra stubborn about liking the Devildom to the point he's Been insulting his friends and trying to push them away

"Luke, you've been very bad, pushing your friends away just because they're a demon isn't good - embrace your friendships."

You weren't amazing at changing your voice but it seemed to work on him

He complained that it wasn't right for angels and demons to be friends

But you quickly reminded him what this whole exchange program was about

"you have been chosen to help fix the divide between the three realms, just hang out with the people you care about or I'll eat your toes!"

He immediately got scared, scrunching into himself and only peered slightly out of his blanket

He made you promise to leave him alone if he made up with the demons

You agreed, feeling bad for disturbing his sleep but thankful your plan worked

[astridthevalkyrie]

summer rain: chapter 2

Your days in the Training Corp aren’t too out of the ordinary. You make friends, you train hard, and you eat dinner every day.

Oh, and you’re also hellbent on getting revenge against Humanity’s Strongest Soldier.

Chapter 1, Chapter 3

Okay, okay, so, you’d prided yourself on your plan. Getting the lieutenant himself to train you personally so you could learn his weaknesses and use his own tricks to one day take him down and humiliate him in front of everyone - it’s convoluted, but it’s a good idea. It’ll take a while, but it’ll work if you stay dedicated. Right? Right.

But you hadn’t actually expected him to agree. And so easily at that. He’d given you a quick look over as though he was scanning for some potential scheme, and then he’d readily said he would train you, which not only shocked you, it shocked both Captain Erwin and the woman who you learned was Lieutenant Hange Zoe. If his friends were surprised, then this must be out of character of him. You can’t imagine why he possibly would willingly take you under his wing.

Maybe...maybe the harsh treatment was some twisted way of looking out for you. A small bit of guilt blooms in your chest at the thought, but you quickly squash it down. There are other ways to prepare someone for their future than by publicly embarrassing and physically harassing them. A simple hey, focus up, cadet would have sufficed. Not that you’d have listened, but he doesn’t know that.

Yeah, he’s just a dick. He probably has his own messed up reasons to be doing this. You have to mentally prepare yourself for whatever cruel and unusual punishment he’ll be inflicting upon you.

His instructions ring through your head as you go to bed that night.

“Be at the grounds at 4 AM, sharp. Don’t be late.”

However, that’s absolutely ridiculous. It’s bad enough that you have to adjust your sleep schedule to wake up at 8 AM instead of 11 AM since they don’t allow for beauty sleep at the Training Corp (how are you supposed to maintain your flawless skin?), but now he expects you to be up and out of bed four whole hours than everyone else? No one is expected to be up at that time. Not even him. People are sleeping at 4 AM. No, you’re absolutely not going to be getting up just to train with a grouchy, perverted midget, thanks very much. If he was serious when he gave you those instructions, he’s going to have to deal with someone who values their shut-eye time. Sorry not sorry, Lieutenant. Your dreams are pleasant that night, letting you visit the market on the edge of Stohess which always smelled of fresh fruits and exotic perfume.

You’re content with your decision until a fucking wave crashes on you and brutally brings you back to the world of the living.

With a heaving gasp, you sit up straight in a coughing frenzy, spitting up water. Your hair is soaked, along with your nightgown. Fat droplets run down your face and bite into your cheeks. It’s cold.

“Be quiet,” Lieutenant Levi mutters casually, as though he didn’t just dump a bucket of water on you, “you’ll wake up the others.”

You gape at him incredulously, bringing your hands up to frantically wipe water off your face. For a second, you forget all formalities and you forget he ranks far higher than you, or perhaps you just don’t care, and you splutter out what you’ve been wondering since the moment you met him.

“What the hell is wrong with you?”

For someone who seems to enjoy teaching you discipline, he never actually tells you off for these comments. Instead of chiding you for being rude, he says in a snippy tone, “I’ve been waiting for ten minutes. Get up, or I’ll refill the bucket.”

You don’t need any further encouragement. You throw off the thin and wet blanket and stand up, now fully awake. He rolls his eyes when he sees how silky your nightgown is - yeah, he damn well should feel bad for soaking such an expensive piece of fabric, the asshole. It’s worth more than that stupid tacky cravat he’s always sporting, that’s for sure.

Fortunately, no one else has woken up. Thank Maria, you’re not sure you could stomach someone seeing Lieutenant Levi demeaning you yet again. You shakily grab your clothes and uniform, and then turn to him. He raises a brow.

“Some privacy would be appreciated, sir.” You cross your arms over your chest protectively.

He scoffs pointedly, as though to tell you he’d have to be absolutely obtuse to want to see you naked, to which you only take a little offense. He gives you orders to hurry the fuck up and then leaves the barracks. You’re tempted to take your sweet time changing, but you really, really don’t want to risk getting soaked again. You just wish that you had time to dry your hair - the morning air outside is bound to be freezing. Sighing, you tie it up tightly, mourning the days you could let your precious tresses fly freely. Stupid military, stupid titans, stupid lieutenant. You dislike all of them greatly. In that order.

When you join him outside, he’s leaning against a tree, looking at you dully.

“Managed to have a tea party before you got down here, (L/N)? Or have you always walked at the speed of a snail?”

Holy hells help you, this is going to be a long day.

You salute, and he lets out a small tch, walking up to you and sizing you up. You tense up immediately, you wouldn’t put it past him to knock you down again for the heinous crime of making him wait.

“This is how this is going to work, Cadet.” He stands right in front of you and you force yourself not to look in his eyes, choosing to look at the pretty leaves on the birch tree behind him. “Every morning, from 4 AM to 6 AM, you’re here, and you’re doing whatever the hell I tell you to.” Probably allowing him to punch you in the face repeatedly. “Then you go back, get two more hours of sleep so that you don’t look like shit at breakfast.” It’ll take more than the likes of him to get you to look like shit, but sure, he can flatter himself. “If I’m on an expedition or not here for some other reason, you do a basic routine regardless.” Right, like he’ll know if you skip out. Nice try. “I might have you do other bits of training at another part of the day sometimes, but for the most part, we’ll be doing the brunt of it in the morning so it doesn’t interfere with your classes and shit.” Okay, that’s fair, and you can’t find a complaint with it no matter how hard you try. “Questions?”

You open your mouth, but he doesn’t give you a chance to actually ask anything before barking out an order. “Twenty-four laps around the grounds, now.”

Twenty-four? Okay, okay, you can do this, you knew what you were signing up for. He’s going to be harsh. He’s going to wear you out. You’re not going to break. Even if it’s the crack of dawn and he’s certifiably insane.

When you start running, his eyes follow you. You briefly wonder how he’s going to keep himself entertained throughout this, but then you remember that he’s cruel and terrible, and he’ll be entertained plenty watching you suffer. Besides, you have other things to focus on besides how much fun he’s having.

The maximum amount of laps Grumman has had you run so far is twelve, and that was with everyone else, so all the cadets could feed off each other’s energy and boost morale. Right now, there’s no one with you, no one to complain to, no one to hide behind so you can spend a few seconds walking instead of running. Oh, and it’s way too early. Have you mentioned that it’s way too early?

Half way through the fifteenth lap, you drop down on your knees and start panting. You’re tired. You want to go back to sleep. Screw your plan. Screw getting revenge.

“Oi!” The lieutenant calls out from his cozy spot under the birch tree. “I didn’t say you could take a nap!”

Most all all, screw him.

You hear him approaching, but you can’t bring yourself to get up. The grass is damp against your fingers, looking like a nice and cool spot to just lie down and rest your head for a few seconds. Sure, not as nice as a regular feathery pillow, but -

He kicks you on the side. It’s not that hard, but you still hiss in pain.

You hate him, you hate him, you hate him -

“Get up,” he snaps, impatient. “You’ve got nine more to go.”

Everything about him is grating, from his voice to his polished shoes to his gorgeous grey eyes. How you wish you could shut him up.

Clearly not someone who enjoys waiting, he yanks you up by your arm, letting out another tch at your murderous expression. He applies just the slightest pressure against your skin, before speaking in a tone that makes it clear he’s getting fed up.

“You’re the one who wanted to be trained. If you can’t handle a few laps, then forget about getting into the top ten.”

“I don’t want to get into the top ten,” you huff, writhing in an attempt to break free of his grasp to no avail. Why does everyone and their mother assume you’re some tryhard goody two shoes? “And even if I did, running these laps isn’t gonna get me there. So can we just leave it at fifteen?”

Lieutenant Levi pulls you in closer, until you’re nearly nose to nose with him. Your eyes widen as he tightens his hold on you, and you despise that your heart beats faster for whatever godforsaken reason. Unwillingly, you think about what it would actually feel like to be wrapped up in his arms, to have his hands on your waist, to have his lips on your -

Fuck fuck fuck. Wrong and fucked up line of thought. Focus.

“You seem to think we’re collaborating here, (L/N). Let me make it clear,” he drawls lazily, “we’re not. You’ll do what I say, no questions asked.”

“I’m going to ask questions, sir. Blind obedience isn’t good for anyone.”

“I think it’s less to do with blind obedience, and more with you wanting to be a pain in the ass.”

“Very astute of you,” you say without thinking, and his shoulders move in what might have been a laugh, but it happens so quickly you’re not sure if you imagined it or not.

“Finish the laps,” he orders, letting go of you and jerking his head, telling you to hop to it.

You glare petulantly, but start running anyways. What he doesn’t realize is he just let you have a break, no matter how short it might have been, and that’s exactly what you needed. Not so clever, this one. You take the small win and feel triumphant, even though you still have to run nine more laps and your hair is still wet and it’s still a forbidden hour for anyone to be awake at.

Once the laps are done, Lieutenant Levi allows no further time for relaxation before ordering you into thirty push-ups, which is just thirty more than your preferred amount of push-ups. The amount of fucking delight he takes in putting his foot on your back, making it just a bit harder for you to get up each time, is unbelievable. He’s a damn sadist, who thrills in your pain.

After the push-ups are finished, you have to do squats. Once the squats are finished, you move on to crunches. Then around five million side kicks, or at least that’s what it feels like. Then forward lunges. Then tricep extensions against the tree. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat.

How fucking long is an hour anyway?

By the time the lieutenant finally tosses you a flask of water - he throws it so quickly it almost hits your face - you’re winded, out of breath, and dizzy. Nothing hurts per se, but your body is desperately begging for you to stop, to take a break, to just sit down for a single second. You know that any second now, you’ll be back in bed, and the only obstacle to that destination besides the fear that you might collapse halfway there is this asshole of a midget in front of you. You technically can’t leave until he dismisses you, a rule that you despise with all your being.

You think that dismissal is coming when he takes the flask back and then gives you another demand.

“Ten calf raises. Just a test run. I’ll see if I can put it into your routine.”

You look at him disbelievingly for two reasons - one, because he’s actually continuing this torture and two, he’s assuming you know what the hell calf raises are.

He sighs exasperatedly and then demonstrates. It seems simple enough, it’s just standing on your tippy toes, spreading your feet out, repeating the action, spreading them out even more, and then doing it again. Three angles, just a bit of balance for a few seconds.

At this point, you’ll do whatever it takes to go back to bed.

So you start. You do three (there’s three angles, so technically nine, but who’s counting? certainly not you) and everything’s fine.

The fourth set leaves you a bit sore, but whatever.

The fifth set hurts.

The sixth set stings like a bitch.

After the seventh, you cry out in pain. It’s quiet, but mortifying.

Great, just great. The whole point of this was to pick up on his weaknesses, and here you’ve accidentally exposed your own. You freeze completely, eyes on the ground, waiting for the lieutenant to say something about how weak you’re acting.

But he doesn’t say anything, and you’re too nervous to look at him in case he catches the embarrassment playing out on your face.

Eight. Your calves are killing you, but you’re not going to cry out again. Ever.

Nine. Holy shit. Are you on fire? You think you’re on fire.

One more. You can do this. You’ve done all the others.

“Hey,” a sharp voice cuts through the air, but you pay him no mind.

You clench your fists, muster up all your strength, and push yourself up as hard as you can.

And immediately regret it.

Your legs buckle under you, and you stumble with a yelp. You didn’t mean to. It just hurt so bad, but now you’re going to be on your knees again -

Up until now, you’d seen how fast Lieutenant Levi could move because he was constantly throwing you around like a child would throw around its favorite toy. When you feel a breeze against your skin, your mind is thrown into an alarmed state for a fraction of a second. He’s coming at you, to what? Push you? You’re already falling down, so nice try, jerk, but -

It takes you a few seconds to realize he’s caught you.

With his arms hooked under yours, he lets you put your weight on him, ignoring your astonished expression. Even the blunt pain is pushed aside as you take in the fact that he stopped you from falling. Apparently you can only be knocked down when he decides you can. For the life of you, you truly cannot figure out just what this man’s deal is.

“Well, then,” Levi murmurs against your ear, “we’ll leave that one out from now on.”

____________________

Millie informs you that you look like shit over breakfast, and you tell her to kindly fuck off.

____________________

These lovely morning meetings become routine. Since you’re waking up earlier, you try your best to go to sleep earlier too, but you’re a night owl who can’t be caged, so the operation isn’t really successful there.

Instead, you try to rest any second you can during the day. While Millie, Stephen and Ricky are reading over their notes under the same birch tree that you and Lieutenant Levi meet at, you’re lying on the grass with an arm thrown over your eyes. It’s not like you need to study that hard - one doesn’t need whole hours to learn that titans are dangerous.

Besides, your arms are sore from your push-ups this morning. You usually don’t do the same thing twice in a row, apparently the lieutenant likes to switch things up. Which is just fine with you, of course, you’ve never been a fan of the same old thing every day; you joined the military to get away from the feeling that all your days were stationary and felt the same. And the whole dead dad thing, but that’s kinda secondary.

“Try putting ice on it,” Stephen offers helpfully, the only one of the three to take your complaining in stride.

“Try putting a gag in your mouth,” Millie adds.

“Try taking the stick out of your ass,” you tell her pointedly before offering a grateful smile to Stephen.

“Have you considered asking yourself if this is worth it?” Ricky tosses his notes aside and nudges your head with his knee. “Your super duper revenge plan -”

“It’s a mega super duper revenge plan.”

“Yeah, that. Is it worth exhausting yourself like this?”

Surprisingly, Stephen is the one who speaks up. “I don’t think it’s right for a superior to disrespect his subordinate and get away with it without any repercussions.”

“Look, what he did was...sketchy,” Ricky concedes, “but he’s him, y’know? Some people are good enough to act like that and get away with it.”

“No one’s good enough to act like that. Do you know how hard he runs me into the ground every single day? He’s never satisfied, not until I’m fucking collapsing. The only reason he’s stopped dumping water on me is because he says it’s a waste of resources.” You blow out a puff of air, frustrated. Why does no one understand how not okay the lieutenant’s actions are? “And he never does anything himself. I haven’t picked up any weaknesses. I have to keep going until I find one.”

“That’ll take you your entire time here.”

“So be it,” you say dramatically, before finally sitting up.

You’ll stick to it for however long it takes. There are boundaries that should never be crossed, and Lieutenant Levi’s managed to cross every single one of them.

Out of the corner of your eye, you catch a familiar figure. It’s him, of course it’s him. It’s not enough that he disturbs your sleep, no, he has to make his presence known during the day too. Sure, maybe he’s just going about his day and not actively trying to aggravate you, but he’s still in your line of sight and he has such a punchable face.

Maybe Lieutenant Levi senses that he’s being watched, because his head turns and he catches your gaze.

You wave with a sugary smile, acting like you weren’t just fantasizing about punching his face.

Without so much as an acknowledgement, he looks away and keeps walking.

You scoff. Rude fucking midget.

____________________

The best parts of your days are undeniably after hours. Or more specifically, that small period before dinner and bedtime, when there’s nothing required of you, and you can slip away. You like leaving a bit earlier than everyone else, just to enjoy the cool night outside. It’s funny, how there are so many rules and restrictions here at the military, but a girl can still just get up and wander outside at night and no one will look at her strangely. It’s a wonderful feeling, freedom.

You’re just about to begin what’s sure to be a leisurely walk around the grounds when there’s suddenly a vice-like grip on your arm. You gasp, the first instinct to defend yourself. You raise your fist and immediately launch it, only for it to be caught rather easily.

The lieutenant rolls his eyes at your attempt to defend yourself. “I sincerely hope you never get mugged.”

If he followed you out here, that’s frankly quite creepy and he should feel ashamed of himself.

“I hope someone steals your cravat,” you mutter, and the corners of his lips twitch in amusement. “Can you let go? Sir,” you add quickly - it was becoming easier to forget that you had to refer to him properly. “I have a walk to take that doesn’t involve doing push-ups or crunches.”

His eyes are alight with cruel intentions. You hate that you still find them fascinating. “I have a training exercise for you.”

“You’re a few hours early, Lieutenant.” You give him a condescending smile. “See, 4 AM actually isn’t until much much later. It’s okay, I know telling time can be tough.”

His lips purse in displeasure, and you mentally do a small, victorious dance.

“Be that as it may, I recall telling you that your training can take place at any time that I see fit.”

“But,” you protest, stomping your foot childishly, “you also said you didn’t want to interfere with my regular training!”

He makes a point of looking to the right and then to the left and then finally back at you. “I don’t see any drills going on around here. Do you?”

If you say you do, will he let you off? Probably not, he’ll just cart you off to the infirmary and declare you mental.

“Fine,” you mutter with gritted teeth, “what is it now?”

Without answering, he turns and beckons you to follow. Like a good little obedient soldier. You fume silently, walking behind with clenched fists. First he cuts into your rightful nap time, and now into your wonderful walking time. Is there no limit to the amount of serene, private moments he plans to intrude on?

For some reason, the two of you head indoors, towards the rooms and offices. You may just be a dumb cadet, but even you’re pretty certain that none of the exercises are done in here. Is he taking you to his room? Why would he -

Wait.

Your mouth falls open, but your steps don’t falter. This is highly inappropriate. You don’t know what kind of woman Lieutenant Levi takes you to be, but you did not sign up for this. So you ask him to train you and call him sir a few times, and the man thinks you’re all good and willing, does he? That since he’s Humanity’s Strongest, he can have whoever he wants? What an insult to the name of courting. Where he finds the nerve to keep pulling stunts like these, you’ll never know.

Training your ass. This is an indecent night call. And you would never, ever -

Well.

Maybe. In a hot, scandalous kind of way that you would only ever tell Millie about. Not that you’d enjoy it, not with him. It’s more the forbidden aspect that’s attractive. It’s certainly not about the lieutenant, even with his nimble fingers and cold eyes and sharp tongue that you’re sure he could work wonders with - okay so maybe it is about him a little bit.

But it would also be delightful to turn him down. To watch the light leave his eyes (not that it was there in the first place) as you proudly tell him you respect yourself too much to sleep with a man who’s so arrogant and callous. Yeah, that’ll show him.

His fingers, though.

You’re so caught up in your little debate that you almost crash into him when he stops in front of a door. Ah, a private area. The barracks? How many members of his squad does he share a room with? You twitch uncomfortably.

“Here we are.” Even his voice sounds sultry. Or maybe it always sounds like that. Who knows.

“Why are we here, sir?” Your throat feels dry.

He turns and gives you a look that is decidedly not sexy. Rather, it seems like he thinks you’re the most idiotic person he’s ever had the unfortunate pleasure of laying his eyes on.

“You’re going to clean up in here, did you not hear me the first time?”

What?

You’re not sure what feels the most embarrassing. The fact that he’s apparently decided you’re the official Training Corp maid, or that you had actually been so comfortably considering sleeping with him that you tuned out what he was saying.

Shaking your head to clear your thoughts, you frown. “Sir, I mean no offense -” He raises a brow, clearly ready to get offended - “but your, er, sanitary habits are pretty much known to everyone here. I doubt that I’ll be able to make your room sparkle more than it already does.”

Lieutenant Levi scoffs. “Then it’s a good thing this isn’t my room.”

He opens the door and your mouth falls open in horror.

“This is Lieutenant Hange’s lab,” he explains as he steps in, “and before you ask, I’ve already secured her permission for you to clean up.” Producing a broom out of thin air, he shoves it in your waiting hands.

“Lieutenant, I...this is…”

“Disgusting. Yeah. So better not waste any time. You need to get some sleep if you want to survive your morning drills tomorrow.”

“Lieutenant, I’m from Stohess.” Too late do you realize that you’re pleading. “I’ve never even seen a pig’s den that is as messy as this.”

Countless exercises at the crack of dawn, and this is what’s broken you. The room is horrifying. It’s straight out of any neat freak’s nightmares. You don’t know how the lieutenant even stomachs looking at it.

“Never cleaned your own room, huh? Not surprised,” he muses, and you shoot him a dirty look.

This isn’t the spoiled brat in you talking, no, this is the sane human who knows that this room is basically hell incarnate.

“How does this count as training? You just need someone to do the Survey Corps’ dirty work!”

“Is there anything you don’t complain about?” he demands, but oho, you are ready.

“Exercising I can understand. Your random bursts of physical violence - harsh, but whatever.” Not like you’re trying to get vengeance for them, but he doesn’t have to know that. “This is just work, and I want to be paid if you’re making me do work.”

This makes him snort, shaking his head at you like he’s your teacher and you’re not understanding the most basic of concepts. “You’re not a merchant, (L/N), you’re a soldier.”

“A soldier, not a servant!”

“I am ordering you to do this,” he says softly, “are you disobeying an order, Cadet?”

Well, when he puts it like that, you’d rather not get kicked out of the military before you even complete your training. And certainly not before you make the lieutenant pay with everything you have. Oh, revenge will be sweet.

Begrudgingly, you step into the lab, swallowing your nervous inhibitions. This place is a dump, you wonder how Lieutenant Hange even gets any work done in here.

Goddammit, you are never going to clean this place up, no matter how hard you try!

“Like I said, we still need you to sleep,” the he-devil murmurs behind you, “so this better be done in an hour. I’ll come check on you then.”

Oh, fuck him. You wait until he leaves, and then get to work.

____________________

His royal highness comes back an hour later just like he said he would. When he opens the door, he finds you sprawled on the floor against the wall, tired but with your chest puffed up proudly, eyes zeroed in on him to see his reaction.

The room is spotless and distinctly organized. Papers that were strewn everywhere are now in one pile next to a stack of Lieutenant Hange’s many, many journals. Vials and flasks have been placed on top of one another by the sink, where they can be quickly washed and ready for use. The tops of the desks are spotless and dust-free. The floor is not only clean, but shiny.

There’s a brief flash of surprise on Lieutenant Levi’s face as he looks back at you. You allow yourself to smirk. Sure, your arms hurt even worse than they already did and you still feel like a maid because you’ve done more cleaning in the last hour than you have in your entire life (not because you’re spoiled, just because no rooms back home are ever this messy), but it’s worth it to see that he’s impressed by you, no matter how he tries to hide it.

You don’t know why you want him to be impressed in the first place, but you decide not to question it right now.

“Not bad,” he finally relents, walking up to you. “You plan to sleep here, or are you gonna get up?”

You snort. Such a charmer, this one. Well, you’re too lazy to stand on your own, so you hold your hand up expectantly. It’s really the least he can do after being no help at all.

After giving you a long look, he takes your hand and pulls you up to your feet. Your legs feel a little wobbly, and you wryly think about how you’d figured you’d be leaving the base with wobbly legs anyway. What a ridiculous fantasy. You hate him, and he probably hates you too. You would never do anything of any sort with him.

“Go to bed,” he orders quietly, taking note of how tired you look.

“So, 5 AM tomorrow, right?”

Again, he looks dryly amused like he always does when you say things like this, as though you’re just the funniest fucking person he’s ever met. “Nice try, (L/N).”

“When do you even sleep?” you question, brows furrowed in curiosity. You’ve wondered for a while.

Lieutenant Levi shrugs. “Usually from 1 to 3.”

You blink in disbelief, shaking your head. “Sorry, what?”

“Got a problem with that?” He’s clearly not fond of where the conversation’s headed, since he grabs you by the back of your collar and pushes you forward, out of the room. You comply, but you’re not done with this line of questioning. No one can just get two hours of sleep daily and continue to function normally.

“Is this why you’re so grouchy all the time?”

“You have no respect at all,” he quips, still shoving you ahead. The base is for the most part, bare and empty, since nearly everyone’s gone to bed by now. There’s only a few people still around, and they pay the two of you no mind.

“Have you always been an insomniac?”

“Fail to see why it’s any of your business.”

“Are you trying to make me an insomniac?”

The lieutenant sucks in an exasperated breath. “No, then I’d be punishing all insomniacs.”

“Rude.”

“You’re one to talk.”

You don’t know why it’s so easy to engage in banter with him. He never discourages you, as much as he points out how unruly you are. In fact, he seems to enjoy it almost as much as you do.

And you do enjoy it, as much as you don’t want to.

“Lieutenant,” you begin hesitantly, not sure why you’re saying this, “I hear chamomile helps people go to sleep.”

“So it does,” he mutters dryly, “thanks for the observation.”

Fuck him, you were trying to be helpful.

“Are you going to walk me all the way back?” You hum thoughtfully, craftily. “People might get the wrong idea.”

At this, his footsteps stop, and you wince. God, your mouth really just runs a mile ahead of your brain at all times, doesn’t it? It won’t be satisfied until you’ve dug yourself into a hole that you just can’t get out of. Implying to Lieutenant Levi that people would think the two of you had sex is just the icing on top of the snarky cake you’ve been baking him since you got here. When you turn around, he’s looking at you with an appraising expression.

“What wrong idea will they get, Cadet?” he asks softly, grey eyes piercing through you.

Your mouth is dry. Surely he knows, does he need you to say it? Of course he does, he wants to make you uncomfortable. You can’t even blame him, this one’s all on you.

Screw it, you might as well be blunt.

“They might think we slept together.”

If he’s taken aback, he doesn’t show it. “I see. And what would you do if these rumors spread?”

You take a deep breath. “Gouge my eyes out, sir.”

This time, you can’t chalk it up to your imagination or a trick of the light. He scoffs, but he’s laughing, normally cruel lips twisted in a humorous smile. You’re surprised by how pleasant the sight is, like looking at a lily in a field of roses. Out of place, yet so very beautiful, a sight you can’t take your eyes off of. Just how does one man manage to be so fascinating? It takes a lot to make you want to swoon, especially for someone who you harbor such negative feelings for. How does he manage it so easily?

“Can’t have that.” His expression is still lit up in mirth. “You better go the rest of the way yourself.”

You salute, and turn around. Even as you walk, the image of him laughing - laughing at something you said - is burned into your mind, and it makes something in your chest clench in an all too unfamiliar way.

Maybe he watches you go, but you’re too proud to look back and check.

____________________

The air is abuzz with excitement. Everyone’s been waiting for this day. If you didn’t know better, you’d say that everyone joined the military simply so that they could do this.

This being using the ODM gear, of course. Everyone has mastered the basics by now, or they’ve dropped out. The one who stayed have perfected balancing and not falling flat on their faces, they’ve watched senior veterans use the gear, and they’ve gotten a brief example of what it feels like to be shot forward through the air. Utilizing the blades properly will eventually be taught too, but for now, they get to practice flying. Actual flying. How amazing is that?

While people usually pair off on their own, Grumman sees fit to assign pairs himself today, much to everyone’s chagrin. By some shitty luck, you’re not paired with Millie, Ricky, or Stephen. You’re not even paired with Nifa or Jack, who you’re friendly enough with.

No, you’re paired with Petra fucking Ral.

You probably wouldn’t even know or care about who Petra was if not for Millie’s incessant complaining about her. Petra is one of the few people who balanced in the gear belts perfectly on her first try (you were also in that group, but Millie’s not gonna complain about you to you), Petra is all their teachers’ favorite because of how easily she retains information, Petra doesn’t have a hair out of place even when she fights. Petra this, Petra that.

Petra is Millie’s main competition for the number one position.

Frankly, you think your best friend is projecting.

“Do you feel a bit ridiculous too?” she asks after the two of you have put your gear on.

“Just a little.” You face her and strike a pose. “Do you think the titans would appreciate some more flair?”

Petra laughs, nodding. “Some eye candy would go a long way, I’m sure.”

The two of you exchange grins, straightening to attention when the instructor passes in front of you. He looks between you and murmurs something to himself before shouting out loud for just about everybody to hear. “(L/N) and Ral will go first! All the rest of you little shits, pay attention!”

Apparently being paired with golden girl Petra Ral means that you’re supposed to be a role model or something now. You groan inwardly - it seems everyone is convinced you want to be a model cadet. When will they get it through their thick skulls that you’re not that boring?

You and your partner step apart until there’s a safe distance between you two. In front of you is a forest, a forest that is the perfect place to practice with the ODM gear. You grip the handles firmly, knees crouching a little. Excitement bubbles inside you as you tense in anticipation. This is it! This is the first step to you becoming a full-fledged soldier. You’re one step closer to everything you’ve worked for.

“On my mark! Ready, set…”

You toss your shoulders back and push your chest forward and out of the corner of your eye you see Petra do the same.

“Go.”

Whizzing sounds are heard as the two of you fire your cables at the same time. You gasp as you’re shot forward, hurtling through the air at an electrifying speed. The trees rush past you in a blur of green and brown as you go up, up, up into the sky. You let out a breathless laugh as the hooks come free. This feeling, this feeling of your stomach jumping, this nerve-wracking feeling of doing something so dangerous and so thrilling at the same time - you’ve been craving it all your life. And here you are. You’re doing it, you’re actually up in the air and you’re flying. It’s incredible. You could stay up here forever.

So enthralled are you by this experience that you forget to hook to the next target, and with an unceremonious shriek you tumble through the branches and fall on the dirt below. Some gets in your mouth, unfortunately, and you hear loud chortles behind you. You spit out the rancid soil, shooting a glare behind you when you hear another whiz.

Up above you, Petra is still in the air. She’s slowly lowering herself down, though, concern dancing in her eyes as she stumbles to a stop a few feet away from you and rushes to help you up.

“Are you okay?” She looks genuine.

You sigh. Fucking Millie, she couldn’t share your distaste for Lieutenant Levi but she found it in her to hate this girl?

“I’m alright.” You take her hand and stand up, dusting dirt off your clothes. “Just got carried away.”

Petra giggles. “You were saying something about flair, right?”

You smile wryly, beckoning for her to come closer as an idea pops into your head. “We’ve got about two minutes before Grumman sends in the next pair. I bet I can get deeper into the forest than you can.”

Her eyes shine competitively, and she nods.

And without a beat, you two are up in the air again. You’re not a natural like she is, but you sincerely doubt that she or anyone else appreciates the wind whipping through their face quite like you do. You belong up here. You can feel it. For the first time in your life, you know instantly that you’re creating a memory that you will cherish for however little time you might have left.

____________________

Your heart beats with excitement as you bounce on the heels of your feet, looking behind your shoulder nervously. “Hurry up, Ricky!”

“I’m hurrying, now be quiet, someone’s gonna hear you.”

You don’t see how. No one is wandering around the kitchens right now. The cooks who prepare the food left their stations ages ago, and no one else in the base would have any reason to be wandering down here. Normally, you wouldn’t have any reason either, but today is a bit of a special day. Or more accurately, it’s a precursor to a special day. The day after tomorrow will mark the Survey Corps’ next expedition and as always, the cooks are preparing something special for the heroes and fools. An energizer for some, and a last meal for others. While you know that the lowly cadets haven’t done anything heroic - yet - you and Ricky agreed that some pastries would surely make everyone happy. Just a few measly sweet tarts, the Scouts wouldn’t miss them. You didn’t lay a hand on the meat, knowing fully well that most of the people going out in two days would savor it much more than you would.

Ricky is quickly shoving the tarts into a pouch, taking his sweet time counting so that everyone got the same amount. Fucking outer city peasant, concerned with fairness. You sigh impatiently, bouncing on your feet. You’re hungry. The bread at dinner seemed even more stale than usual today.

“Hey, what are you two doing?”

Your eyes widen at the same time as Ricky’s - why in the holy hells is the head chef still here? Does he sleep here? Before you can consider the disturbing implications of that possibility, you’re grabbing Ricky’s arm and running for all you’re worth. You’re counting on the fact that it’s dark in the kitchens, so hopefully he didn’t see your face. Unfortunately, the chef seems intent on finding out who broke into his precious kitchen, because he clambers on out after you.

After running for two minutes, he shows no sign of stopping.

“S-split up,” Ricky pants, wheezing as you two flee.

“Fine,” you huff, a bit proud of the fact that you’ve got more tolerance than he does, “but I want leverage.”

Without waiting for him to respond, you snatch a pastry from the top of the bag and skid to the hallway on the right while Ricky keeps running forward. The chef chooses to chase him, and you cackle maniacally at your friend’s terrible luck. You’re home free, and you have your dessert as a trophy too.

You turn your head to double check, turn back, and then crash face first into someone’s chest.

Rough hands grip your wrists to catch and steady you, and when your eyes adjust to the darkness, you want to scream.

Why is he everywhere?

Lieutenant Levi’s gaze goes from the tart in your hand to your panicked expression, and he understands what’s going on without any need for an explanation from you. He takes a step closer to you, tugging you firmly so you can’t move back. You swallow nervously, stuttering out apologies for crashing into him and for being up past curfew. He listens to you ramble, but doesn’t let go. His eyes flicker to the pastry again.

“Those are for the Scouts,” he murmurs lowly. Is it your stupid imagination again or does his voice sound more husky than usual? “Not for fucking brats, (L/N).”

Normally you’d answer with some witty comeback, but you’re feeling a bit dizzy with how close he is and how hungrily his stormy eyes are watching you. The most you can do is open and close your mouth like a fish out of water. You’re in deep shit now, you know that much.

Without removing his piercing gaze from your face, he lowers his head a bit, and takes a bite out of the tart in your hand.

You could swear your heart stops beating for a second. His grip on your wrists suddenly feels like it’s hard enough to make them bruise, even though you can tell he’s not holding on that tight. You watch him chew, swallow, and then lick his lips, all without looking away for even a second. It’s mesmerizing. Before you can tell what you’re doing, you raise the tart a bit, and let him take another bite. As though you’re fucking feeding him, like a good fucking girl. The lieutenant’s lips curl into a small smirk, and you think you’re going to drop on the spot when he takes a third bite, finishing the pastry, the tip of his tongue just brushing against your index finger.

You wonder if he can hear just how erratically your heart is pounding.

Levi’s close, too close. You don’t know what to do, how to break his scrutiny of your face, or if you even want to. He leans in, just a little. Your breath gets caught in your throat. When did you forget how to breathe? It should be easy. Suck in air, let it out, repeat.

He tilts his head a millimeter.

You sigh in anticipation, lean forward, and…

He turns away at the last second, and your lips meet his cheek.

Fuck.

You gasp against his skin, not moving. From his amused expression, he can tell that your face is burning up. Somehow, he’s managed to embarrass you again, even if this instance isn’t public and doesn’t end with you in pain. This feels worse than all the other times, though. Before, you were simply thrown around, his way of calling you weak. Physically weak. Not strong enough, a rookie. But this, this is him telling you that he knows he lords some power over you, something that transcends his rank. Something personal.

“Thanks for the snack,” he says, stepping back only a little (see: not enough) to cup your chin between his thumb and forefinger. “Now hurry to bed before I decide I want more.”

Heat pools from your stomach right down to your core. If possible, your cheeks grow even hotter.

The lieutenant lets go and turns around, leaving you standing there with a wide-eyed expression, feeling strangely empty as you watch him go.

You’re never going to let him catch you breaking curfew again.

If you’ve never done calf raises before, I do not recommend, they genuinely will leave you sore for a bit if you’re not used to them. But otherwise, yay for exercise I guess.

Reader is very cocky but we love her for it.

We don’t have Petra slander here, folks. I adore her. Millie doesn’t, though. Rip.

Let me know what you think!

[thewriterowl]

Hi owl, some headcannon about an AU where Luke is actually a slave on Tatooine?

I'm sorry but your dinluke headcannon are incredible

Hello!! Sure! I am so happy you enjoy these fun head-cannons!

So, we'll give Luke more angst in his life, shall we?

So, everything happens as normal up until Luke is around 10. Tatooine is horribly rough and pretty corrupt. So the Lars are in a very rough patch and can't make payments. So here come the collectors. Well, if the Lars can't pay them back they'll just take the blonde kid as compensation. They refuse, of course. Luke is free. He can't just be snatched up like that...only...Luke doesn't have anything to prove that. He has a slave's last name, he has no papers or chain code, there is nothing to say that he is the Lars' actual child (it's known he isn't but there is nothing to prove he's anything of there's) and it's a disaster. The Lars still fight back and they pay with their lives, Luke witnessing it all.

He is brought into town, traumatized, and auctioned off. Well, at this time Luke is just this small, lanky kid who does not look like he'll be worth much of anything so he is not going for much. Peli, who knew the Lars and this kid, finds she can't just let this happen and buys him for her shop. She's pretty jaded and rough, she yells a lot, and demands hard work...but Luke realizes pretty fast that she is a very good person (and it's likely she's not yelling on purpose, she probably has poor hearing from her work...or she has always just been a very, very loud individual) when he realizes he gets extra food from her plate (she complaining he's too small to be useful) and he has a bed with extra blankets for the cold nights, and she actually teaches him everything about engineering, ships, mechanics, and droids. Luke also has good friends with all of her droids so he's not too lonely and he picks up the work really fast and easy.

Issues start when he is about seventeen. People start to notice him. Yeah, he's still small but he has built up a good bulk of muscle and a lean form from his thirteen hour days of hard, mechanic labor. he is still dealing with what he witnessed and went through when he is a child but he has an honest, happy smile and clear eyes and a very friendly, warm personality. All those who have called him ugly and useless and wormie over the past years are starting to eat their words.

Peli is approached a few times a year over the next three years about purchasing him. The price is always astronomical, possibly 10xs more than what she paid for Luke originally. She always turns them down with a nasty tone of, "I've put nearly ten years into this kid! You want me to just take credits for 'im?! Come back to me when you have 20xs the money and a replacement who has 20-years of experience in doing this shitty work or the answer is no!" It always works.

And it keeps Luke safe.

it is around seventeen a new visitor begins to show up regularly. A bounty-hunter with worn armor but a pristine, silver mask. Luke is infatuated instantly. He has never had to see the man, nor the man see him, as he hides whenever he is around. But he always gets to work on his ship as he is out of the shop because he always says no droids. He learns a lot by keeping his head down and practically remaining invisible when the mysterious man is around. Luke learns he is a bounty-hunter who always gets his target (and, given this is Tatooine, a lot of targets come here), a man from a culture called Mandalorians, he is clearly terrifyingly strong (given how he'll sometimes drag his quarry into his ship on his shoulders or them trying to fight--he never seems to flinch), very built (luke can't help but notice it!), a dreamy voice, and is actually a decent man who pays Peli in full (sometimes extra) and rarely argues back unless he appears in to be a decent (or grouchy? it was hard to tell) mood and Peli was extra ornery. He clearly went on adventures and was well-versed in the galaxy and was intelligent and had wit and...Luke was just head over heels with a massive puppy-crush.

It's when Luke turns twenty that he realizes, oh yikes...is this a crush or am I actually in love with a guy who doesn't know I exist and i have never talked to? It is also the year where Jabba the Hutt becomes interested in Luke as well.

So, it finally happens. Luke is dragged out of Peli's shop by some of the Hutt's men, Peli unable to do anything but screech at them. They just toss over credits that are about 40xs what Luke was bought for, despite Peli saying this isn't going to work and that's her apprentice, etc. They still just take Luke away.

Now, I don't see Jabba has being necessarily sexually attracted to Luke (or maybe anyone for that matter) but he loves beautiful things and he loves the power beautiful things bring him. Having a slave as lovely as Luke at his side is something that would just give him that vibe he enjoys. So Luke is safe in that regards for now. But Luke is clearly wanted by the patrons of the palace and if Jabba has a bounty that he knows is impossible, he'll say they can have Luke if it is accomplished in a certain way (it never is). Luke is basically in the Leia garb (see @gabsketch for her version of Luke's slave outfit) and is stuck by this horrible beasts side, being gawked at and touched, and yanked around all the time.

A few months later the Mandalorian is back for a quarry and a repair for his ship when Peli practically tackles him, saying she'll pay 20,000 credits and repair his ship for free for five years if he can rescue her apprentice who was taken by the Hutt's without an agreement. Well, hello pay-day. Din knows it's not great to cross the Hutt, but if he indeed did not follow an agreement with Peli over this mysterious guy then she is in her right to demand him back. So off he goes to the palace.

He gets there and has a reputation so he is allowed in, ready to look all around for this poor kid with gold hair and sky-blue eyes who was probably cleaning up slop or hidden in the back with stolen droids to fix. He was really not expecting to see the man as a trophy for Jabba. Nor expected him to be this gorgeous. How had Peli hidden him all these years? Din never saw this man once. If he had, well, he for sure would be coming back to Tatooine a bit more often and leaving it with some very adult-level fantasies.

Luke is stunned to see the mysterious man there, really unsure what is going on but finds himself hopeful when he demands Luke to be returned. Jabba is all, "nah fam. I run this place. but tell you what...do this impossible task for me and you can have him. Go kill a Kryate dragon and bring me its pearls."

Din is all, "Yeah sure." And just goes and...does it.

He comes back with four pearls and meat and scales and other items to show it was dead and Jabba is all, "oh shit." He really does not want to let this pretty slave go...but if he followed his deal and Din returns, Jabba could for sure get bounties taken care of with him on his side. So, he hands Luke over saying, "welp, he's yours now, lucky SOB". And Din takes Luke.

Well...now Din doesn't really want to hand Luke back over. How was he supposed to? Still, he is honorable and brings him back to Peli but then makes a claim, "I'll be back for him. I own him now but you can borrow him." surprising them both. Well, he goes off and Luke stays on Tatooine until a man named Kenobi (maybe he was off world or couldn't interfere before Luke was sold but saw Peli was taking care of him and saw it was fine) finds him and yanks him off on an adventure where he saves the galaxy and Din finds a gremlin child and then they meet again. and Din is all, "Hey...you're still mine from all that happened a few years back soooooo...you're teaching my kid as you travel with me." and Luke, with a shrug is all, "Welp. There are worse fates than hanging out with the love of my life, so yeah, let's go for it."

It for sure can be darker, lol knowing me, but it playing with the original trilogy is fun too. So Luke lives happily with Din who still, technically, owns him from his deal with Jabba but they're both very, very in love space dads.

[fluffypeachwriting]

Hitoya deserves love, can i request senario when a fem so is upset because she saw a woman (works with Hitoya in office) clinging to him like a leach and reader, please make it from angst to fluff

I don’t know if the ending counts as fluff, but it’s still a happy ending ヽ(*・ω・)ﾉ I hope I can do Hitoya justice as he can be kinda hard to write for, especially with angst, which isn’t my forte as of now  (シ_ _)シ This was a fun writing experience though, and I’m happy to get your request!

Either way, I hope you enjoy, and I’m sorry you had to wait so long for this  (⊃｡•́‿•̀｡)⊃

A new employee at Hitoya’s law firm seemed to take a liking to your boyfriend. It started with a few flirty lines, and nothing more. Hitoya never responded to them, and that was fine. He probably didn’t want to add fuel to the fire. The whole situation was easy to brush it off in the beginning, since you were well aware of how attractive Hitoya was, and that anyone could be under his spell.

The woman in question knew about your relationship with Hitoya too. The two of you weren’t super affectionate in public, especially at work, but she definitely saw the way you lovingly looked at him when he brought you a coffee and some cake during your shift, and the way he softly smiled back at you. After all, she sat right across from you. She would wait a few minutes, tapping her nails on the table, and eventually get up to go to his office. Then, after purposefully leaving the door just open enough for you to see, she would perch on his desk and laugh at every word he said, putting her fingertips to her lips in a faux-shy kind of way. The sight made your heart leap up your throat and thump in your ears.

The worst part was that she was pretty cute, looks wise. If you didn’t know anything about her personality, you would have compared her to the sexy love interest option in an anime. She made office wear look good, and you never saw her look undignified. Sometimes she leaned towards a femme fatale-type. That idea was constantly reinforced every time she placed her hand on Hitoya’s arm, playfully swatting at him when he got grouchy, and batted her eyelashes when she wanted something from him.

If she was doing this to literally any other person in the office – hell, some people there would kill to have this woman dote on them – you would probably find it funny. Her attempts at ‘seducing’ him were bordering on comical.

This whole charade wasn’t private. The office was getting annoyed too. Not by you, of course. The woman was pretty good at her little admin job, so any chance of getting her out of the office relied on her stepping over the line with Hitoya.

Hitoya continued to ignore this woman, but he never shooed her away or told her to stop. There was a tiny voice in the back of your mind, whispering nasty ideas into your head – the possibility that Hitoya was actually enjoying this attention couldn’t be shaken off.

One night, as you were both in bed, you rolled over and asked: “Hitoya, do you love only me?”

He replied, without turning to face you: “Hn? ‘Course, whaddya mean?”

“I just… the new girl at work is kinda clingy with you. Can you tell her to knock it off?”

“She’s not hurting anyone.”

You sat up in bed and rested your hands in your lap, hesitant to look at Hitoya. “Wait, so you’re gonna defend her? But she’s clearly into you. She knows we’re a thing and… please just tell her to quit it.”

There was a momentary silence, and in the dark room you could almost see the woman in front of you, doing her typical sly giggle. Maybe she had already won.

“You’re worrying over nothing. Go to sleep, you’re probably stressed and tired. You’ll feel better in the morning.”

But it had been many mornings since this all began. The clock read 9:45pm. It was too late to go out for fresh air now, and you had work in the morning.

“Okay, goodnight.” You laid back down in bed and laid on your side, facing away from your partner.

“Goodnight.”

You bit your lip to stop yourself from crying, and waited until you could hear Hitoya’s light snoring before feeling relaxed enough to fall asleep.

The next morning, you woke up to an empty bed. There was a note on your bedside table – Hitoya had gone to work early to prep for a few new prospect hires visiting.

Phew! Maybe that woman wouldn’t have to opportunity to bother him today.

Maybe today would be the start of some normality: with everyone keeping an eye on the visitors, most people wouldn’t be too keen on messing around. As you made some food and coffee, you updated yourself on the work group chat. There wasn’t much of it that concerned you, but seeing people’s elaborate excuses on why they couldn’t come in was amusing. That is, until you saw a message from that woman.

There was a selfie of her in the conference room, with Hitoya in the back, occupied with some papers, with the caption: ‘About to teach some newbies what’s up! Kya ahahaha!’

It was hard not to throw up your breakfast. Getting dressed was a struggle, since you wanted to punch every surface in the room.

They were alone in a room, without you. She could be saying god knows what to him, well aware that you wouldn’t be in for at least another hour.

Rushing to get ready and go to the office was an option, but what good would it do?

All you could picture was Hitoya staring down at you, as you burst through the door, dishevelled from rushing there, chiding you for imagining what you said this woman was doing.

When you came to your senses, you were in the office, bursting through the door, just as you didn’t want to do.

“Hey, Boss?” The receptionist said, looking concerned.

“…Yeah? Where’s Hitoya? And why’d you call me ‘Boss’?”

“You’re basically also our boss too. And I dunno where Boss Boss is but, are you okay? Are you like, super tired?” The receptionist gestured to his clothes, implying that something was wrong with yours.

And there was. Because you were not in your work clothes at all. You had come to the office in a hoodie and sweatpants. In your rush to get ready, you had forgotten about looking presentable.

“Oh shit.”

“Hey, Boss. I know it was an accident, if you slip out and come back soon, I’ll just tell people there was traffic. I got your back.”

“Thanks.” You sighed, thankful that someone was on your side for once.

Right as you turned to leave, a piercing laugh came from the conference room entrance. One that was all too recognisable.

‘Of course she had to see this. Just my luck,’ you thought.

Her heels click-clacked as she came closer.

“Oh sweetie, this is just too much! You think that just because you’re banging the Boss man you can show up in whatever clothes you want? What a pathetic little weirdo…” She looked at the receptionist for agreement but he had turned around in second-hand embarrassment.

You were too miserable to try and act polite to her. You’d had enough. All of that jealously that had been bubbling inside you for what felt like years had finally spilled over.

“Why don’t you keep your nose out of our business for once!? You know we’re in a relationship, so why don’t you just fuck off and leave him alone!? If you’re gonna try and sleep around at least go for single people, you freak!” As you raised your voice, tears started streaming down your face. You didn’t care that it made you look even more of a mess. “The only reason we keep you around here is because you’re good at your job! You belong in hell, you demon!”

No more words could properly express how fed up you were, how much you wanted this woman out of sight. Your hands were clutched tight to your chest, which hurt more by the second. You kept your eyes focused on the floor in fear of her reaction. It wasn’t likely that she’d do a 180 and take pity on you.

Instead, you did a 180 and ran out of the building. You could barely see where you were going, but you knew where you wanted to go.

One turn left, a few crossings straight ahead, a couple of right turns, and you were where you and Hitoya had your first ‘date’: a bench next to a vending machine.

That day, he had planned to take you to a fancy restaurant, but it started raining so hard that you had to take shelter in a convenience store for a while, and ended up missing your reservation. When the sky cleared, Hitoya gave you his jacket to shield you from future showers, and bought a couple of drinks to share. The indirect kiss you shared on that canned coffee gave you the strongest butterflies you’d ever felt.

You wanted to feel that same sunshine on your face as then, and see the same rainbow as then, but the sky was cloudy today. Sitting on the bench with your cheeks resting on your fists, you tried to force your mind back into that honeymoon phase. It all seemed so much simpler then, like nothing could stand between you two. Now everything was dreary. Now it was just you, the pit in your stomach, this convenience store, and passers-by.

Someone was walking a hyper-active dog that tried to jump at you. A lady with a small child asked if you were alright, which was nice. A few teens were out looking to cause trouble, though you didn’t care. A group of kids were meticulously counting their money out loud, and yes, they did have enough money to get a soda and a steamed bun. All of these people, going about their lives, reminded you that even in these times where your world was turning upside down, the rest of the world would go on. Even the guy going on a run was just doing his thing. You didn’t look up, but you could hear him running, then stopping just outside the store.

“There you are.” A familiar deep voice said in-between pants.

Your head snapped up. “Hitoya!?”

Hitoya was there, his hands on his knees, catching his breath.

“I heard what happened from Yamashita, at the front desk. I knew where you’d be. She’s gone. You don’t need to worry about her anymore.”

“What?”

“That woman. She’s gone. I kicked her out of the firm. I’m sorry for letting it get to this point.” Hitoya flopped beside you on the bench and took your hands in his. He sounded award, like he was having a conversation that was long overdue. “It was messed up on my end to not say anything. I just figured out that that was worse than doing something. I… You know you’re the only one I have eyes for, you know that? I know I don’t say this romantic sappy stuff a lot, but uh, you’re always what I look forward to seeing, like, you’re really cute right now, even in those clothes. I kinda wanna cuddle you. Hey, let’s take the rest of the day off and go home and do that, yeah?”

You were too stunned to reply with words. It was like a dream come true. That toxic bitch was out of your life, and you didn’t have to see her again. Hitoya was yours, and he was ready to confess – in public, no less – that he really did love you.

After a minute of collecting your thoughts, you replied in a croaky voice: “Yeah, let’s go home. To our home.”

Where no-one could come between you.

[tumbleweed-palmer]

Wait there was more to that ask

Jimmy, me, awkward supply closet quickie

The Best Kind of Stress Relief

=============

She missed her boyfriend. Y/N knew this would be a totally ridiculous statement if she were to ever say the words out loud. How could she possibly miss him when they literally worked in the same building?

If she wanted to see her boyfriend so badly all she had to do was hop in the elevator, hit the down button, get off in the basement, and make her way on over to Autopsy. She’d find her boyfriend right there assisting Dr. Mallard as usual.

Even if she didn’t have the opportunity to see him during the work day she knew for a fact that they would go home together at the end of the day. Even if one of them worked late they’d still wind up in bed together at some point. They’d wake up together and go into work together unless Jimmy was called away early for a body pickup. They would be together in some form or fashion.

How could she possibly miss someone who she lived and worked with?

It was just this case...this case was eating up so much time. They both had work piled up to their eyeballs and they were so exhausted all the time. These past few weeks they had rarely even been able to share a dinner together that didn’t consist of terrible fast food they ate in the car on the way home. They barely had the energy to share a completely G-rated shower together at night before they collapsed in bed and got whatever few hours of sleep the good lord blessed them with before their alarms woke them up and they were pulled right back into work.

They hadn’t even had time to even have one of their usual lunch breaks together. Jimmy hadn’t been able to sneak away from Autopsy and come upstairs to linger around her desk. He would always sit at the edge of her desk and try his best to ignore Tony’s prodding of “Who let the Autopsy Gremlin out of the basement? Mini-Probie, you know he can’t leave the basement.” She hadn’t been able to make excuses to go down to Autopsy and linger herself trying to pretend that she wasn’t there to see her boyfriend but was there because she was totally interested in Dr. Mallard’s work. Dr. Mallard of course knew she was more interested in making moon-eyes with his assistant, but he’d at least been willing to play along with the story Y/N gave him. Lord knows he’d spent too much time gently encouraging Jimmy to pursue Y/N to get too grouchy that they were finally an item.

Jimmy’s and her lives were so intertwined together that the interruption in their usual routine felt so draining.

Y/N knew what she missed the most about her boyfriend at the moment. She missed the sex. They were so exhausted lately that they had no energy to do anything even remotely sexual.

They’d always shared an active sexlife. They were both overly affectionate people. They saw sex as a wonderful way to bond with one another. Not only did it feel amazing and it was a hell of a lot of fun, it was also something incredibly intimate. They saw it as a chance to be as close as two human beings could possibly be. They both understood that sex was an extraordinarly intimate action after all it involved being in such a vulnerable position with one another.

Their sexlife was amazing. It was passionate and filled with laughter and such intimacy.

He was the first guy she’d ever slept with where sex didn’t feel like such a chore. With Jimmy sex felt so fun and so loving. She felt so close to him when they made love. She didn’t feel exposed or as though she had to perform to stroke his ego. Sex felt the way it should with Jimmy. It felt like a wonderful way to show one another that they loved the other.

Jimmy Palmer was the most incredible man Y/N had ever dated. To say that she was absolutely devoted to him would be a vast understatement.

She could still remember how they’d even gotten together in the first place. Jimmy had been there for her when she’d felt so low. He’d somehow made everything seem okay.

She’d been recruited as the new probationary agent that would be working with Gibbs’ team.

She was terrified. She’d heard horror stories about Leroy Jethro Gibbs. The other probationary agents whispered about how tough he was. She’d only witnessed him from afar. He seemed so intense. She’d heard stories about how Gibbs hit his agents on the back of the head as a wake up call. She’d heard about how he had a million rules for his agents to follow, but he never told you the rules. He just expected you to learn them on your own and never forget them. She’d heard how he barked orders and expected results. He didn’t accept excuses or apologies. He would do anything to solve a case and he expected his team to follow suit. He was a tough cookie. He was a marine through and through.

Y/N was crapping herself at the thought of working under him.Part of her was excited. She’d hoped that this would be her chance to prove herself. Surely if she worked hard then everyone would see that she could make an amazing NCIS field agent. Surely this was her chance. Still though it had been so terrifying. She’d been overwhelmed with the feeling that she was in over her head.

She had tried her best to keep a tough exterior and to take whatever challenges Gibbs had thrown her way. On the outside it had looked as though she was excelling at every challenge thrown her direction. She kept determined. She held her head up high and tried to show how motivated she was to learn. She tried to give them the impression that she was strong. She tried to remind herself that she had worked too damn hard to get here. She worked way too hard to let Gibbs or anyone intimidate her from becoming a field agent. She tried to look to Ziva for inspiration. Ziva was so strong. She was such a strong agent who didn’t put up with anyone's crap. Y/N wished she could be more like Ziva.

On the inside though she felt like she was drowning. She felt so in over her head. It felt as though she was failing. She had to fear that she wasn’t strong enough for this. She wasn’t capable of this, a voice in the back of her brain insisted. She was so inferior and eventually everyone would see it.

She tried not to get too discouraged but it weighed on her so heavily.

Tony hadn’t made it easy. He had bestowed her with the nickname Mini-Probie. No matter how many times she asked him to call her by her name he still insisted she was “Mini-Probie.” or worse “Probie Jr.”

Later on of course she’d realize that Tony only bestowed the nicknames on her as a sign of affection. Tony tormented those he cared for.

At the time though it had felt so demoralizing.

Tony had thrown the worst jobs at her: Crawling through mud and dumpsters searching for evidence. Going into lakes and down hills. Going into the thickest woods to retrieve evidence. Carrying all the equipment. Gathering evidence off the floor on her hands and knees. Dusting massive surfaces for fingerprints all by herself. If there was a pet at a crime scene Y/N was handed a pet carrier and told to retrieve it. If there was a piece of evidence in some other god awful location Y/N was told to grab it and bag it.

He shoved the jobs no one wanted on her. It was the only way she’d learn he’d insisted. He was making her a better agent. He was a senior agent and he knew what she needed to do in order to learn.

McGee had tried to offer her reassurance though it was clear he was thankful that she was now the one stuck with the jobs he’d always been forced to take. Sure Tony might still call McGee “Probie.” but Y/N was clearly another victim and Tony seemed to take just as much pleasure at tormenting Y/N as he took in tormenting McGee. Misery did love company.

Y/N was close to cracking under the pressure.

She’d been once again tasked with yet another gross job that nobody else wanted. She’d found herself in a dumpster behind a seafood market searching for a gun that had possibly been tossed. She’d been left alone with the task combing through slimy fish parts trying not to puke. She smelled like rotten fish and all she wanted to do was crawl home and hide in her bed after she scrubbed her skin clean of the rotten stench.

Dr. Mallard had been so kind to her, offering her a chance to use the hazmat showers insisting that he was a true gentleman and wouldn’t stand for a lady being forced to drive home covered in fish guts.

She’d tried her best not to cry when he’d given her a gentle pat on the arm not cringing at the sticky remnants of fish parts crusted to her shoulder. “You’re doing well my dear. You took great initiative to retrieve that gun. That gun is a crucial piece of evidence. I’m sure Jethro will appreciate your determination. Take as long as you need to shower in the hazmat shower. There’s soap to use, it isn’t the nicest, but it will do in a pinch. There are a spare pair of scrubs in stock in Autopsy. I’m sure you can wear them home, though they might be a little large.”

She’d managed to work out a “Thank you Dr. Mallard.” trying to resist the urge to hug him. He had been so kind to her from the start. He made her think of her grandfather to be honest. Her grandfather was a lot like him; filled with stories. Her grandfather had quite the analytical mind as well. He’d actually had hope that she might go into the sciences like him, but Y/N had her heart set on this. Perhaps she would have been better off if she’d followed her grandfather’s dreams for her?

She’d showered so long scrubbing her skin so much it’d turned red and getting the water as hot as he could possibly stand. She didn’t care that the bar soap had made her skin a little dry.. Ziva had been kind enough to offer her some shampoo and conditioner gently giving her a tip to always keep some travel size soaps and shampoos in her desk. You never knew when you might need it Ziva had insisted. Y/N had scrubbed herself until she no longer smelled like rotten fish.

She’d found the blue scrubs without any problems relieved that they weren’t too large for her smaller frame.

When it was all said and done Y/N felt clean but still so defeated.

She took a deep breath trying to soothe herself and regather her confidence. She just had to get a hold of herself and remind herself of why she was here. She wanted to become a field agent; not a probationary agent. She wanted to become a real field agent. She worked so hard to get hired. She had to keep her chin up and keep going. Someday all of these terrible experiences would be worth it.

She’d found herself sitting in Autopsy at Dr. Mallard’s desk taking deep breaths trying not to cry. She refused to cry. She was a grown woman. She wasn’t going to cry.

She wasn’t sure why she remained sitting in Autopsy. There was something about the silence of the room. It was so quiet. It was the one place where she knew she might have a chance at being alone to gather her thoughts.

She’d barely noticed Jimmy Palmer enter the room, the man looking just as surprised to see her as she was to see him.

He felt his heart sink as he noticed how absolutely heartbroken she looked. Her face was downturned she looked up at him revealing that she was clearly trying not to cry. It broke his heart.

She was far too lovely to look so broken. She was so wonderful inside and out. She didn’t deserve to look so upset.

He’d definitely noticed the new probationary agent. She was an attractive young woman so of course he’d noticed her. To be honest he’d noticed how rough Tony seemed to be treating her. Jimmy could admit he’d had to bite his tongue on occasion when he witnessed Tony take it just a little too far.

He felt like a coward for not saying something. Y/N seemed to be the type of woman who’d probably see any attempt Jimmy made to say something to Tony as Jimmy suggesting that Y/N wasn’t capable of handling her job. She’d see it as a patronizing action and not an act of kindness or care.

Jimmy could admit he’d found several things to adore about Y/N/ He enjoyed her presence at crime scenes and around NCIS. Anytime she was the one who got to come down to Autopsy he felt his heart lift at the sight of her and he’d maybe tried to make more jokes then, hoping to work a smile out of her.

He adored her entire attitude on the job. She seemed so determined. He guessed he related to her in that sense, he was a student too after all. He studied under Dr. Mallard in hopes of becoming a full blown medical examiner instead of just an assistant and Y/N studied under the NCIS team hoping to become a field agent and not just a probationary agent. He respected her determination to go after what she wanted.

He liked how eager she seemed to please everyone. She was clearly a hard worker. He’d always found those values admirable and relatable.

It wasn’t just her sense of motivation that Jimmy liked though. He liked everything about her. She was as pretty as she was sweet. He liked the hint of perfume she wore. It was a soft floral scent he occasionally caught when she was near. It smelled like lilies. He liked her smile the few times he’d spotted it. He liked her laugh the few times he’d been lucky enough to hear it. He liked how soft spoken she seemed. He could admit he worried about how soft spoken she seemed. He knew the life of a field agent was difficult and dangerous. He had to hope someone who seemed to be as sweet and as gentle as her wouldn’t be harmed on the job.

He would be lying if he tried to claim that he maybe hadn’t developed a massive crush on Y/N. There was no chance of him not liking her as much as he did.

He knew it was useless though. She was a perfect ten and Jimmy was sure he was probably not anywhere close to being a perfect ten. He knew what people saw when they looked at him. People found him strange especially when they found out just what his career goals were. They saw him as being a geek who slouched too much and always said the wrong thing at the wrong time. They found him awkward and they found his sense of humor to be off putting. Sure he’d started hitting the gym and trying to have a bit more pride in his appearance, but he was very sure that women who looked like Y/N didn’t go for guys who looked like Jimmy.

Y/N spoke her voice cracking, praying Jimmy couldn’t see the tears threatening to spill from her eyes. “I should go, I-I...Dr. Mallard told me I could borrow some scrubs because my clothing was all fish gutty. It’s late so I should go. Tell Dr. Mallard I said thanks again, since you’ll probably see him before me. Have a good weekend Jimmy.”

Jimmy felt the words leave him unable to stand it any longer. He’d kept his lips sealed long enough. “Are you okay?”

She took a deep breath trying to hold it together. “I’m fine Jimmy. It’s just been a long day.”

Jimmy replied not willing to let it go. “You don’t seem fine.”

Y/N felt the tears fall then she unable to stop herself. Jimmy had always been so sweet to her. He was so polite and he tried to keep so positive. He was the one bright spot she knew she could count on at a crime scene. No matter how awful a crime scene was she knew that at least Jimmy would be there. He was always so cheerful. She didn’t understand how someone worked with the dead and saw just how much violence people were capable of could be so positive.

She spoke frantically wiping her eyes trying to pretend that she didn’t feel as awful as she so clearly felt. “It’s so stupid. It’s nothing to worry about.”

“It’s not stupid. I’m sure it isn’t stupid if it’s making you this sad. Of course I’m going to worry...I mean I know we haven’t known each other for very long, but I’d like to think that I’m still allowed to worry when I see you looking so down.” Jimmy insisted taking her by surprise as he made his way over to her.

He pulled out a chair at the desk motioning for her to sit, taking a seat in the other desk chair.

Y/N gave in telling herself it would make her feel better. It would make her feel better to have a friendly ear to vent to. She forced the words to fall from her as Jimmy frantically searched for a tissue, finally finding one and handing it over to her. “I just, I feel so overwhelmed.”

“You’re doing great though Y/N. I’ve seen you at crime scenes. You’ve been working really hard.” Jimmy replied so fast to reassure her.

“I’ve been faking it. I’ve been trying so hard but I’m so tired. I’ve worked so hard to get here. I’ve studied so hard and worked so hard. It’s all I’ve wanted for so long. I just, I’m in over my head.” She admitted the words spilling from her, feeling so good to get it all out.

She let out a heavy sigh shaking her head wiping her tears as she spoke. “Maybe I’m not made for this...Maybe I’m just not good enough.”

She was surprised by how fast Jimmy spoke in response. “That isn’t true. I know it’s been hard, but you said it yourself. You’ve wanted this for so long. You’ve worked really hard for this. You cannot stop now, not when you’ve worked so hard to get here. I know things may seem really rough right now, but I’m sure that things will get better. You’re doing really great. I mean Gibbs barely yells at you...and I don’t think he’s ever hit the back of your head, or I haven’t seen him do it.”

Y/N managed to laugh at this though it came out a little weepy. “He hasn’t...he has yelled, but he yells more at Tony than anyone.”

She let out a soft sigh, her tears managing to dry up a little she wringing the tissue she was holding in her hands. “Thanks Jimmy...today has just been the worst. I literally spent all afternoon in a dumpster searching for a gun. It was at a seafood market and Tony decided that I was the lucky one who got to dig through it. It was disgusting. I don’t think I ever want to eat seafood ever again... How long do you think he’s going to stick me with Probie duties?.”

“Probably until a new Probie comes along.” Jimmy replied, giving her an apologetic smile.

Much to his relief the comment didn’t make her feel worse, letting out a laugh that sounded a little less weepy. “On the bright side at least Dr. Mallard let me borrow the hazmat shower, which explains the scrubs.”

Jimmy felt the words leave him before he had a chance to stop himself. “If its any consolation, you look good in the scrubs.”

He paused his cheeks flushing more words spilling from him he stumbling a bit over his statement. “I mean, not that you don’t always look good...because you always look really good, I mean you always look really beautiful. You are beautiful... It’s just, uh you look nice in blue and uh...you l-look...you look good for someone who spent the afternoon in a dumpster filled with rotten fish parts.”

A little voice in the back of his brain told him he’d fucked everything up. She probably thought he was a total moron.

He widened his eyes surprised as she spoke her voice just as filled with shock. “You think I’m beautiful?”

Jimmy felt the words leave him he unable to deny it. He took a deep breath taking a chance. “Yes, always.”

It was her turn to feel her cheeks flush the words leaving her so soft he almost didn’t hear them “Thank you.”

He took another deep breath taking another chance. It was now or never. The worst thing she could do was tell him no. “Would you...uh, do you have any plans tonight?”

Y/N spoke a small shy smile crossing her lips. “No, I mean...I don’t have any plans unless Gibbs calls me in to work.”

Jimmy nodded his head working up the courage to ask. “Would you like to get dinner with me tonight? As in a date? I promise no seafood.”

The laugh that left her scared him for a moment. Was she laughing at him? Did she think the idea of him asking her out was so ridiculous that it had reduced her to laughter.

His doubts died as she spoke nodding her head the words leaving her. “I’d like that...would you be okay with me stopping by my place so I can change...I imagine you aren’t planning on going to dinner in your scrubs so I should probably ditch these.”

Jimmy was tempted to tell her he’d eat dinner with her no matter what she wore but he only managed to nod his head frantically the words spilling from him. “Of course, that’d be okay...I can just, uh I can follow you to your place and then we can leave for dinner in my car...if that’s okay with you?”

“Yes, that sounds great.” She insisted, standing up from her chair.

She hesitated for a moment, taking a chance as she leaned down, taking Jimmy by shock as her lips pressed to his cheek. She spoke her own cheeks flushing just as dark as his. “Just let me go get my purse and I’ll be ready to go.”

That dinner date had been the start of something wonderful. It hadn’t taken them long to become official. It had only taken a couple of dates before Jimmy had worked up the nerve to ask her to be his girlfriend.

They hadn’t looked back after that.

Things at work were still hard at times. Y/N still felt defeated at times. She still felt overwhelmed more often than she’d like to admit. Jimmy made it easier though. He made things seem so much brighter.

They’d been together for a little over two years now and they’d learned to lean on one another through the changes they’d endured at work and the stress and danger of their careers.

She was sure that she loved him more than she’d ever loved anyone. That was why this was driving her insane.

To be frank she was horny and stressed and exhausted. It was a deadly combination. She missed her boyfriend. She needed him so badly she wanted to cry.

As hard as she tried to focus on the case and her job any time she had a moment of silence her mind drifted back to the last time Jimmy and she’d had sex. It had been after a night out at a local bar with everyone at work. They hadn’t stayed long, they both making an excuse to leave early. The second they’d gotten home they’d barely made it to the bedroom. She kept thinking about all the filthy things Jimmy had moaned against her ear while he was grinding against her. He talked so much as it was and that trait didn’t go away when he was inside of her. He surprisingly had a filthy mouth when he got lost in pleasure. It was kind of amusing sweet gentle Jimmy who wouldn’t even watch an R rated film would moan in her ear about tight she was and how hard he wanted to fuck her.

Remembering all these little details wasn’t helping her ignore the desire coursing through her.

She finally decided she’d had enough. She knew it was a risky move but she needed to do this. It was either do this or attempt to take a cold shower in the hazmat showers.

It had been surprisingly easy. She knew her boyfriend’s routine after all. Even in a time like this when things were so hectic she knew that everyday around 3 Jimmy would go grab a cup of coffee and a snack. He cut his lunch break a little short just so he could have the time to step away to do this.

Jimmy hadn’t expected the arms to reach out from the supply closet yanking him by his scrub top into the closet.

He widened his eyes his heart still racing even as he realized exactly what was going on. Her lips pressed to his he eagerly returning the kiss but only for a brief moment he pulling from her the words spilling from him. “What’s going on?”

She pressed her lips down his jawline the words leaving her. “I’ve missed you so much.”

He chuckled at the action and her words. “You just saw me this morning.”

She continued to press kissed along his jawline working her way down his neck nipping his skin pulling a soft moan from his lips.

She spoke her words muffled against his neck. “I know, I just love you so much. I’ve missed you so much baby.”

She continued to suck and nip at his neck knowing she would definitely leave a mark behind in her wake. Jimmy couldn’t stop the soft moans from leaving him finding it so easy to sink into her affections his body easily reacting remembering just how badly he’d missed this.

She ran her hand down his body between them knowing her destination as she continued to work her lips against his pulse point.

He felt a surprised squeak leave him as she placed her hand over his crotch gently massaging him causing his cock to slowly begin to harden his body definitely remembering just how badly he’d missed her.

He pulled from her speaking frantically. “What, what are y-you doing?”

She gave him a flirty smile staring up at him clearly able to see how dark his eyes had gone with lust. “What do you think I’m doing? You’re a smart guy, I think you know.”

He felt his cheeks flush realizing her hand hadn’t left his crotch. He managed to speak his voice still a little frantic. “I uh-he-here? I mean r-right now? Here?”

“Yes, here.” She replied her lips pressing to his jawline again.

He sighed closing his eyes fighting the urge to sink into this his fears still running through the back of his mind. “What if s-someone walks in or hears us?”

She giggled fast to reply her lips still pressing along his jawline. “No one will walk in and no one will hear us as long as you’re quiet.”

She pulled back her voice taking a serious tone realizing he seemed pretty tense. “If you aren’t okay with it then It’s fine Jimmy. You can say no and I won’t be upset.”

Jimmy quickly debated his choices in his head. He could promise her that they would pick this back up at home. He could wait it out until his body no longer showed how excited he was. Then he could walk back to Autopsy and pretend nothing had happened.

Or he could give in to what his body was screaming it wanted. She’d told him she missed him, and he’d missed her. He’d missed her so much it was driving him insane.

Of course he might die from embarrassment if anyone walked in on this or even overheard them.

He loved her so much though. He wanted her so much. He wanted this so much.

He took a deep breath, his lips pressing to hers before he pulled back speaking. “We have to be quick and you have to be quiet.”

“I’m not the one we have to worry about. You’re the loud one.” She remarked her lips finding his.

He pushed her against the wall, his hand so easily roaming her body as he spoke. “That’s funny coming from someone who moaned my name so loud one time that the neighbors complained the next day.”

“That’s because the walls in your old apartment were paper thin.” She insisted a soft moan leaving her as he began to work the buttons of her shirt open sliding it from her body.

He groaned as he pulled the shirt from her his eyes locking down at the pink lace covering her breasts. “Fair enough.”

She giggled knowing him well enough to know that she always had a chance of winning any disagreement when he spotted her breasts.

He wasted no time to work his lips along her neck nipping and sucking as he worked his way down her shoulder pulling more giggles and soft moans from her. He pressed his lips against her cleavage nipping and sucking, unable to stop himself from grinding against her.

He ran his hands up her back easily finding her bra clasp and working it open pulling it from her body. He moaned as her breasts were revealed to him, wasting no time to lock his mouth over her breast suckling.

She whined her fingers running through his hair messing it as he worked her breast easily working it before moving to her other breast giving it the same treatment.

He only pulled back as she pulled his scrub top up pulling it and the white undershirt he wore up and over his head tossing it on the floor. He moaned as she pressed her lips to his chest, nipping sure she would leave a mark there too.

He whined as she worked her way down his body, dropping to her knees. He groaned as she stared up at him, unable to stop his hand from pressing to her cheek as she leaned against his touch. She spoke, her voice teasing. “I thought you said we had to make this quick.”

He nodded his head, the words spilling from him. “I know. I just love you so much.”

She spoke, her fingers sliding under the waistband of his scrub bottom and boxers. “And I love you.”

He groaned as she pulled his pants and boxers down, allowing them to rest around his ankles, the sight probably looking ridiculous but he was a little too distracted by the moan that left her lips to worry about that.

She spoke, her lips pressing along his shaft, her breath warm against him. “Is this for me?”

“Always, always for you.” He moaned his head falling back as he continued to press kisses along his shaft her hand resting against his balls massaging them

He groaned as he locked her lips around him, bobbing her head enthusiastically. He groaned his eyes practically crossing his knees already growing wobbly. God, he’d missed this. He’d missed this so much more than he realized.

She worked his cock he putting his hand over his mouth trying to stifle his moans. She pulled back a giggle leaving her, her hand wrapping around him and stroking. “Yeah, you’re real quiet.”

He giggled against his palm, his hips rocking against her touch.

She placed her lips back around him pulling her hand back to bob her head once again more moans leaving him muffling against his palm.

He stared down at her, his hips continuing to rock, unable to believe how perfect she really was. She was so amazing. She was all his. Somehow he’d managed to win her heart. He was the only one who got to do this with her. If he had his way she would be the only one he did this with for the rest of his life.

He groaned, finding it so hard to muffle his noises. She was right, he was the loud one.

He grunted knowing that if she kept this up at this rate he was going to cum. It was almost pathetic really. In his defense it had been so long since they’d had a chance to do this and he’d been so stressed lately. He was sure any kind of stimulation from her no matter how brief it was might cause him to burst.

He pulled back from her his cock bobbing a groan leaving him as he pulled his hand from his mouth. “I need you, I need you so fucking bad.”

She stood up from the floor kicking her shoes off and unfastening her pants sliding them down her body along with her panties.

He groaned searching the room trying to decide how he wanted to go about this.

He sighed knowing his knees still felt pretty wobbly. He was so desperate he didn’t trust himself to stay upright at the moment. Besides, he didn’t think pushing her against the wall so close to a shelf was a good plan. He could already imagine the risk of pulling down a shelf.

He quickly made his choice telling himself that even if the floor might not be the cleanest it was the best option.

He sat down resting against the wall motioning to her. “Here, ride me.”

She giggled making her way over to him a deep groan leaving him as he watched her. There was something so intoxicating about the sight of her standing over him like this nude and wanting him.

He groaned knowing he might have a bit of a submissive side to him. Though he guessed that was pretty obvious given his overeagerness to please her. He’d do anything for her, he’d give her anything. All she had to do was say the word and he’d give her anything. He was always so desperate for her, so desperate to make her feel good. He was always so desperate to make her happy. He was always in such awe that she wanted him. She could have anyone and she’d chosen him.

He ran his hands along her thighs as she approached him, a groan leaving him his eyes locking down at her center. “If I had more time I’d eat you out right now, fuck. This case better be over soon or I’m gonna find whoever killed that petty officer and kill him myself.”

She giggled at this comment, shaking her head. He was the only guy she’d ever dated who seemed to love going down on her. She’d definitely noticed just how much he enjoyed pleasing her. Of course she was always willing to make sure she pleased him in return. She had to find it downright awe inspiring just how much he adored pleasing her though.

She lowered down straddling his lap not allowing him to enter her just yet his lips pressing to hers. She reluctantly pulled her lips from his reaching forward and pulling his glasses from him.

She spoke, giving him a gentle smile as she set his glasses down on top of her pile of clothing. “I don’t want anything to happen to them.”

He gave her a lovesick smile not helping but to adore how she always looked out for him even in the tiniest ways. He groaned as she pressed her lips back to his.

He reached down between them grasping his cock sliding it along her she so wet he wanted to cry. He had a feeling he might not last as long as he was hoping. He knew it was going to take some serious effort on his half to hold back.

He grunted his moan muffled against her lips as she lowered herself over him, taking him slowly down to the hilt. He groaned she so tight and wet and so hot. He grasped onto her hips squeezing so tight he had a feeling he’d leave bruises behind.

She gasped, the feeling of him inside of her always a little overwhelming. He filled her so perfectly and in this position he hit at such a different angle. She had to adore how close she felt to him at this angle. This was exactly what she needed to feel so close to him.

She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, taking her time slowly rocking over him moans intermingling between their kisses.

He kept a tight grip on her hips encouraging her movements. She felt so good. He couldn’t stop himself from voicing it he speaking against her lips. “Fuck, I’ve missed this. I’ve missed your pussy so much.”

She giggled shuddering against him, unable to deny how much she loved a little dirty talk. There was something so flattering about knowing that sweet polite Jimmy Palmer could say such filthy things. She knew she was the only one who got to see this side of him. It was a side of him that was reserved for her and her only.

She spoke trying to keep her voice down, finding it so hard not to moan as loud as she wanted to when he felt so amazing. “Feels so good Jimmy. Missed you, missed this so bad. You always feel so good.”

He groaned, pressing his lips to hers doing his best to rock up against her as she continued to ride him. This position was hell given the fact that the floor was freezing and hard, but he found it hard to complain too much when she felt so amazing.

He pressed his lips to her neck, his voice muffled against her neck. “I love you, I love you so much sweet girl. My sweet girl, so good for me.”

She whined burying her face against his neck she riding him enthusiastically, his hands still squeezing her hips so tight. She managed to speak the words muffled against his skin. “I love you Jimmy. God, I love you so much.”

They continued like this, their moans muffled against one another’s skin, she rocking against him finding the perfect rhythm, Jimmy doing his best to encourage her movements.

She couldn’t believe this was happening. If anyone had told her way back when she’d been hired on as a probationary agent that she’d one day find herself riding the medical examiner’s assistant in a supply closet she would have never believed it.

Then again she also never would have believed that when she’d walked into Autopsy the first time that she’d be meeting the love of her life. She had to wonder that if she knew back then what she knew now if it would have made those first few months at NCIS any easier.

She whined against him, feeling so amazing. She spoke against his neck “Such a good boy Jimmy. So fucking good.”

He grunted shuddering against her, her words making him throb. Oh yeah he definitely had a kink for pleasing her.

This entire experience was actually more than a bit of a kink for him. He couldn’t help but to get off on the idea that anyone could walk in on this. Anyone could hear this. Anyone could hear just how much he was pleasing her. The thought filled him with such a sense of pride.

Of course realistically he knew he’d die of shame if anyone ever walked in on this or heard it, but for some reason the risk of being caught or overheard turned him on so much.

She slid a hand down between them, her fingers sliding along her clit rubbing it helping herself feel all the more amazing.

Jimmy groaned gazing down between them, his voice sounding out in a hushed whisper. “That’s my girl, fuck yes.”

She whined her head falling back, she biting her bottom lip to hush her moans. He stared up at her still so in awe of her. He had to wonder how he’d gotten so lucky.

He pressed his lips against her breasts suckling them as she rode him, her fingers continuing to rub her clit in a circular pattern.

They continued like this, both knowing this would be over quicker than they’d hoped. This had been just what they needed though. This was always their preferred method to cope with stress. Anytime things at work got to be too much they knew they could find pleasure in one another. Of course usually they were able to wait until they got home, or at least got to the backseat of his car in the parking garage.

They were amazed at their ability to find comfort in one another. They both knew that no matter what happened they had one another. When a case went well they could celebrate the success with one another. When a case went wrong they knew they could find comfort in one another.

When one of them had a terrible day they both knew that they could lie in one another's arms pressed skin to skin together. They didn’t even have to do anything more than hold one another and it would be enough.

She was sure she’d never found more comfort with anyone than she’d found with Jimmy. He was quite sure he felt the same.

There was a reason he’d begun looking at engagement rings secretly on an incognito tab on his laptop anytime he had a chance to do so without anyone seeing it and figuring out the plans dancing around in the back of his mind.

He knew that one day hopefully soon if he was lucky enough he would make her his wife. He would have the rest of his life with her. Growing old with her sounded perfect.

She spoke, her voice rising a little bit more than she meant the words falling from her. “Jimmy fuck, you’re so good baby. I’m so close.”

He pulled from her breasts placing a hand at the back of her head pulling her down muffling her moans with his lips. He spoke giggling against her lips. “Sssh not too loud baby.”

He pressed his lips back to hers as she continued to rub her clit, she continuing to rock over him losing rhythm the longer she moved. He gripped down onto her hips helping encourage her movements as she got closer and closer to the edge.

She whined her back arching, shaking against him as she reached her end. She moaned against his kisses muffling the noise. She quivered against him her nails digging into his back as she came her center contracting around him.

He grunted the sensation of her squeezing him so tight making his cock ache.

He allowed her to rock against him she shaking as she worked her way though her orgasm.

She gasped as she came down from her high she so sensitive.

She resisted the urge to pull back from him the feeling so intense. She wanted him to cum. She needed him to feel so good.

She pulled from his lips moaning against his ear her voice so soft and so needy saying just the thing to get him there. “Please Jimmy. Come on baby. Cum for me my good sweet man, let go for me.”

He grunted his fingertips digging into her skin knowing he would have to rub lotion against her hips tonight. Her skin would be sporting so many bruises after this.

He felt his end hit him hard he shaking his face burying against her neck muffling his moans of her name. He came hard spilling into her, she rocking against him working her pelvic floor muscles trying to milk his release. He whined as he felt the last of his release spill from him he knowing they were making a mess. He would have to find some tissues or something to clean them.

She remained ontop of him even as he began to soften his grip on her so tight he refusing to allow her to pull from him.

He spoke his voice low and raspy a drowsy laugh leaving him. “I’m going to find whoever inserted your IUD and thank them.”

She giggled her nose scrunching at the comment his cheeks flushing from more than the orgasm he was recovering from. He spoke another laugh leaving him. “Sorry, I know gross.”

She shook her head smoothing back his messy hair as she spoke her voice low. “It does beat the hell out of dealing with condoms.”

He pressed his lips to hers so thankful that she always had a way of making him feel less like an awkward idiot.

They widened their eyes as they heard an exasperated voice out in the hallway. “Has anyone seen Mini-Probie?”

Y/N muffled her laughter against Jimmy’s shoulder as an unfamiliar voice replied. “Who?”

“You know, Agent Y/L/N?” Tony sounded out still sounding so fed up.

They were thankful as his voice faded off, Tony clearly moving away from the supply closet.

Jimmy pressed his lips to hers his hands pressing to her cheeks he holding her against him even as they pulled from the kiss. “We should probably get back out there.”

She pressed one more kiss to his lips as she spoke. “I love you.”

“And I love you. You can drag me into a supply closet anytime you want.” He replied trying not to sound so eager.

She chuckled shaking her head as she moved up and off of him trying not to cringe at she mess they’d made. “You better not make that offer. I’ll keep taking you up on it.”

He smiled up at her, that lovesick smile once again returning to his lips. He had a feeling he wouldn’t have any problems with that.

“It doesn’t even have to be a supply closet. We could try a few other locations. I’m pretty sure I could find so many places for us to find some privacy around NCIS.” He exclaimed, causing her to giggle, he absolutely loving the sound.

It was such a world away from the sorrow filled girl he’d comforted in Autopsy a little over two years ago.

God, he loved her.

He had to hope she’d take him up on his offer. He wasn’t lying, she could pull him into the supply closet anytime she wanted.

[khaotic-kitsunes]

Alleyways

...I have absolutely no regrets over this. None what-so-ever and neither should anyone else because this glorious scenario was freaking fun to write. Probably even better to read, I dunno, I can never read a scenario that I’ve written again until I’ve forgotten it completely. Otherwise I start to remember the words a second before I read them and honestly it’s infuriating.

Anyways~

I hope you like the Dabi dose of today and again, sorry about the mishap! One was put in drafts by accident and this one I just forgot to press the post button until I went back to my tumblr tab to scroll through my dashboard...hahah

Whoopsie?

🥃 AO3 🥃

Cheeky Kitsune 🦊💋

.

 “Hey there, little cutie…what’re you doing with a guy like that huh? Why don’t you come with me? I’ll show you what a real Alpha is like!”

 .

 Dabi let out a low growl of displeasure from beside you as you walked through the dimly lit street together, his arm wrapped around your waist and keeping you close to his side; allowing you to soak up the warmth his quirk allowed him to produce.

 “You’re letting them get to you…” You trailed off softly, peeking up at your grouchy boyfriend when you felt his fingers dig into your waist and while it wasn’t painful, it certainly brought you no joy to see how upset he was getting over a few drunken morons cat-calling you.

 “Drop. It.” The words came out as an angry snarl of annoyance, not necessarily directed at you; yet at the same time, you felt the effects of your Alpha’s displeasure, a low whine spilling past your lips that still showed signs of a faint bruise. It was from Dabi’s most recent rut; he had gotten a little carried away with you and bit harder than usual. Nothing that wouldn’t heal.

 “Don’t whine at me, (Name). You know I hate walking around here with you” He spared you a quick glance, his brows furrowing when he noticed how displeased you looked with his current mood; earning a quiet click of his teeth. An upset Omega was never good, even he knew that much.

 “So, what? I’m the problem?” His eyes widened partially at your whimpered-out question, a string of uttered curses escaping him before he stopped walking to face you properly, calloused and scarred hands gripping your arms tightly.

 “Oi! That isn’t what I meant, stupid little…” He trailed off into a growl before loosening his grip on your arms, his shoulders slumping as he let go of his anger at the people that tried to take you from him; he needed to be calm to deal with you. Both of you knew that.

 “I don’t like sharing you with everyone. You’re mine. Those assholes are lucky I don’t murder them for even looking at you!” His possessive growl calmed you almost instantly, a soft snicker escaping you and while the noise settled Dabi’s fear of having to deal with an emotional Omega; he didn’t appreciate your laughter.

 “Think this is funny? Little shit” He scowled, reaching up to pinch your cheek, pulling firmly until you let out a noise of discomfort; resulting in him releasing you and moving back beside you, his arm returning to its’ place around your waist. Keeping you close.

 “…Hey, hey, if you’re getting so wound up about this, then that must mean you love me. Right? Alpha?” Your questioned received a grunt in response, the two of you slowly making your way through the almost empty street; the few people that were around, staring directly at you with looks you recognised from before Dabi had claimed you as his Omega.

 .

 “If even a single one of those fuckers says anything to you, fucking anything, I’ll burn them alive…”

 .

 You snapped your head up quickly at his words, surprised at the vicious promise behind them; your Alpha was a strange one. He wasn’t overly kind, nor was he a good person, but you found that he took good care of you, as best he could really and every time he threatened such a degree of violence; it sent shivers down your spine. You did love when your Alpha used his quirk for you, there was nothing better in your mind; his greatest show of love was slaughtering people that he decided weren’t good enough to even look at you.

 “Alpha~” You purred out the word softly, leaning into his side heavily while your hand went to his stomach, nails dragging over his muscles through the thin white shirt he had chosen to wear for your stroll throughout the neighbourhood.

 He opened his mouth to respond to you as he turned his head to look down, but the moment he looked into your eyes, the words appeared to have escaped him. Instead, they were replaced with a deep, rumble of a growl that you hadn’t heard outside of the safety of your small apartment before; a growl that meant you were about to have his knot buried inside of you.

 “Seriously?” Your head bobbed up and down in confirmation the instant the question left your Alpha’s mouth, causing an eager grin to tug at the corners of his lips; it appeared as though your Alpha wasn’t against the less-than-subtle hint that you had given him.

 “Such a naughty little thing you are…come on baby, you want my cock? You’re gonna fucking get it.” His words were a hushed promise as he tightened his hold on your waist, practically dragging you over to a nearby alleyway, not a care in the world that the two of you were in a public place; in fact, it almost felt like this was Dabi’s own way of telling the other Alphas where to shove their offers.

 “Is that a promise, Alpha?” You squealed when Dabi dropped his hand to slap your arse roughly, causing you to stumble into the wall he was about to fuck you against, the sound echoing down the empty little spot he had chosen; a reaction he seemed to appreciate, if his hungry stare was anything to go off of.

 “You know damned well that it is…now lift that fucking dress for me if you’re really that desperate for my knot” Your cheeks flushed in response to his demand, hands moving to tug at the edge of your dress; it hadn’t been the best choice for the walk, considering how cold it was currently. However, it was working out for you currently.

 You jolted in surprise when you felt a weight on your shoulders, looking back to see that Dabi had dropped his jacket over your shoulders, his scent enveloping you almost instantly and causing slick to start dripping down your folds.

 “Keep it on” His words were a quiet, concerned instruction while his hands went to your arse, squeezing until you spread your legs for him as best you could, giving a cheeky little wiggle until he slapped you once again; a soft noise of pleasure slipping out. Though Dabi had heard it loud and clear, the sound making him grind himself up against you through his pants; his erection made painfully clear.

 “Alpha…don’t tease me? Please…” Your whimper had him chuckling while he buried his head into the crook of your neck, his hands moving from your arse to deal with his pants; adjusting them just enough so that his aching cock was free and rubbing against you. Your panties were now the only thing keeping him from fucking you senseless and in that moment, you absolutely hated yourself for wearing them. Unnecessary things that they were.

 .

 “Are you beggin’ already?”

 .

 You huffed in response, pushing yourself back against him firmly in order to show your annoyance with him; a soft squeak echoing around the area when he tore your panties away from your body, allowing him to properly rub against you. You could feel the tip of his dick against your folds, nudging and rubbing just enough to let you know he was there but certainly not enough to satisfy you and your needs.

 “Dabi, come on…that isn’t fu-” His hand covered your mouth while his other arm went around your waist, pressing you further into the wall as he began to bite at your neck; the parts he could access since his jacket was partially in the way.

 “Shut up. You don’t get to tell me how to fuck you, (Name). You get what you’re given and you’ll fucking take it like a good Omega” He buried himself inside of you once he made his point, causing you to arch your back, a moan of relief muffled by his warm hand; preventing anyone else from hearing the noises that your Alpha refused to share.

 “That’s better…fuck, that’s it, move your hips like that baby…make your Alpha happy” Dabi groaned quiet praise into your ear while he rocked his hips, trying his best not to completely lose his control with you. As much as he wanted to do such a thing, if he were to lose control out in the open like this, it might cause problems for the both of you and Dabi preferred to avoid that kind of situation.

 You whimpered into his hand, grinding your hips back against him each chance you got, the feel of his not yet inflated knot against your folds driving you insane; you knew how good his knot felt and it was hard to resist the urge to sink yourself back onto it. The only problem with that plan, being that if you did dare to do such a thing; he would punish you for it.

 Dabi liked his control over you, disobeying the unspoken rules between the two of you wouldn’t end well.

 .

 “Shh, I know baby. Believe me, I know how bad you want my knot…but you need to be a good girl, otherwise your next heat is going to be a hard one”

 .

 Your entire body shuddered from the warning he gave you, muffled moans beginning to grow louder as his control began to slip, his thrusts and bites getting rougher with each passing minute that he fucked you in the alleyway. He was finding it to be an impossible task, holding back with you when your body was so inviting; welcoming every little thing he did to you.

 “Shit…shit, damn it!” Dabi cursed out loudly as he began to bite at the bonding mark you wore proudly on your neck, the sensitive and bruised flesh an instinctive target for his little shows of affection; alerting you to how agitated he was beginning to get.

 “Fuck it. I’ll just fucking kill anyone that tries to fuck with us when I’m stuck inside you” Dabi groaned out his resolution before removing himself from your body, quickly spinning you around to face him before suddenly, you were lifted into his arms, legs going around his waist and your back slammed up against the brick wall you had just been pressed up against; his throbbing cock buried inside of you once again.

 “I want to hear you baby girl. Moan for me, scream for me!” He snarled out his demand as he pressed his face against your chest, his teeth surprisingly sharp despite the material of your dress getting in the way of his bites; making you cry out loudly from all the pleasure he was showering you with.

 “Dabi…Alpha! More, I want more…please!” You whined out loudly as he continued to thrust his hips, his hands remaining on your arse so that he could keep a steady pace; though his grip was tight enough to leave you whining in need. It was times like this you loved being with someone that had no morals, your Alpha didn’t care that he was fucking you where other people could hear and smell what you were doing, the only thing he was paying attention to; was the way you felt wrapped around his aching cock.

 “Fucking hell…you’re such a greedy little Omega!” Dabi groaned out a laugh, throwing his head back as he pushed his knot inside of you, your loud shout of bliss music to his ears, he would never admit it sober; but he loved your reactions to his touches.

 You weren’t like other Omegas that he had fucked, you weren’t just after your own pleasure, you weren’t just an easy slut. He had to work his arse off just to get in bed with you in the beginning and when he finally managed to, well he had been shocked to find out that you could take everything he had to give.

 You were his perfect match and he had kept you ever since.

 .

 “Louder baby, I want the entire block to know whose cock is making you feel this good!”

 .

 You screamed out his name in response, baring your throat to him in submission while he continued to fuck you senseless; his knot throbbing and growing bigger as time passed, signalling that your Alpha was close to finishing. Just like you were. You could feel the familiar warmth beginning to build in the pit of your stomach, the pleasure rocking through your body; it was too much, having Dabi fuck you like this with the knowledge that everyone knew what you were doing but no one would be stupid enough to interrupt the two of you.

 “That’s it…close, aren’t you? Squeezing down on me like that already? Is it that good a fuck, baby? Can’t keep up tonight?” You narrowed your eyes at his groaned-out taunts, tangling your fingers into his dark locks while your orgasm got closer and closer; you weren’t in the mood for him to be a complete asshole to you and you were about to make that clear.

 “Just…shut up and knot me, Dabi! I wanna go home and nest…” You whimpered out, squeezing your eyes shut tightly while giving a harsh tug to his hair, screaming out his name when your orgasm finally hit; his knot swelling up inside of you once you started to squeeze down on him even more, his hot, thick seed filling you in a sudden rush.

 Dabi bit down on your bonding mark roughly, chewing on the spot while rocking his hips as best he could while stuck buried balls deep inside of you, his mind slowly processing the words you had uttered.

 .

 “Nest…? Are you going into heat baby? Fuck…don’t worry, I’ll get you home soon. You can get nice and comfy so I can fill you up even more.”

[all-things-fic]

Quarantine Begins At Home

A/N: Hi everyone, its been a long time since I’ve done one of these authors note thingys.

I know it may sound silly but I wanted to put a bit of a disclaimer in my authors note. This piece of writing is by no means encouraging people to start getting close to each other, please make sure you are social distancing and please wash your bloody hands. This is purely a way to give some of you who are in quarantine (which by now seems to be all of us) some light relief. Everyone stay safe and look after yourselves!

Please enjoy for simple entertainment and of course let me know what you think. Looking forward to hearing what you have to say for yourselves!  I’m not going to hide my phone so I don’t obsess over notifications because I’m rubbish at releasing any of my writing into the wild.

P.S. praise Beauty Papers for bringing out that one picture of Harry where he’s in his undies and socks and TPWK tee. You fed this fic. .x

***

The niggly cough that you’d been showcasing over the last three days was nothing more than annoying. Topping itself off with a fever that had you sweating unattractively the night before, had left you thinking only one thing. 

Quarantine was on the horizon. 

When you’d sat up straight in bed, 3am that morning, sporting a clammy, tackiness to your skin you didn’t even think twice about stripping off your pyjama top before dropping back down into bed. 

It had been hard to push away your husband, his own bare chest finding your back as he pulled you towards him. Hands only stilling their actions when you whined into the darkness about how you were ‘too hot for that’. 

Harry had chuckled into the back of your head and softly shushed you as you’d let yourself doze back to sleep. 

Two nights after, Harry had not so elegantly shook the bed as he kicked the duvet off his body to stop himself from sweating. 

“‘S bloody hot in ‘ere, ‘m sweating,” he grumbled, flipping over his pillow so that the cold side could greet his flushed face and offer some sort of relief. 

He turned to face you, causing you to ask him to flip back to his previous position because you didn’t want him to breathe on you. 

“It’s not you, it’s the carona,” you responded, burrowing down and pulling your blanket over your mouth.

You knew if it wasn’t so dark in the room he would appreciate the cheeky glint in your eye as you stared back at him.

“Yeah, that’s what they all say,” he groaned, rolling over and pushing his face against the pillow. You rolled your lips into your mouth, suppressing your laughter at how miserable he had become, while he huffed and puffed into his fresh bed-linen. 

Lifting your hands from under the confines of your blankets you reached up to gently rub Harry’s back, wanting to provide some form of comfort if you could. 

The two of you lay silent and awake in the dark that night. Both sprightly and in your twenties, you knew you didn’t have much to worry about anything, but you had to do your bit. 

Isolating yourself was going to be interesting.

***

If you had never felt like you were comfortable around your husband before now - the kind of comfortable that meant you’d leave the bathroom door open as you used the toilet - Harry was doing everything in his power during quarantine to reassure you otherwise.

It was in the comments he made, the way he moved. The kind that should have you wrinkling your nose at him and shaking your head, to tell him to stop. However, now you found yourself taking it all in your stride, often clapping back with a comment that had him chuckling to himself.

“I’ve not changed my pants since Monday,” his deep morning voice broke the sleep filled silence as you both lay in bed.

“Makes a change that you’re actually wearing them,” you mumbled back, weirdly not bothered at the filthy habit your husband had just revealled while you entered another day of being cooped up. 

“It’s not usually a problem,” he spoke, dropping his eyes down to look at you, as you pressed your head closer to his lips accepting the fleeting kiss he left in you hair. 

“Surprised you even know what day it is-“

“Been crossing the days off the kitchen calendar.”

He was proud of himself for that one. For helping the two of you not enter that weird period that was usually only experienced during Christmas and New Year. Where no one knows what day of the week it is; AM and PM blending together. 

Naps became scheduled parts of the day, and arguably the most important part to aid avoiding grouchy backbiting comments bubbling simply from being around each other for a little more than was bearable. Everyday was becoming more and more like a Sunday. 

“Wondered why the calendar was a day out?”

“What’d you mean?”

The offence lacing his question caused you to bite away your smile as you continued to aimlessly scroll through Instagram. “Dates have been crossed off one day out, you crossed out Wednesday yesterday when it’s in fact Wednesday today.”

There was a small amount of silence in the room as your words resonated with Harry. 

“Bollocks.”

You muffled your chuckle by pressing your lips into Harry’s forearm that was nestled securely around your shoulder and across your chest. 

“The thought was there, darling. It is appreciated. Thank you,” you whispered after leaving a chaste kiss against his skin once more. You took great delight in feeling the downy hair of his arm pressed to your lips. 

As your eyes remained on the screen of your phone, you watched the 45836 quarantine meme on your timeline cut away from Instagram to an incoming FaceTime from your mother-in-law.

“Harry,” you hummed, hearing him barely respond with his own steady grunt of acknowledgment. “Why’s your Mum FaceTiming me?”

“I dunno-“ he cut off, pressing his face to uncomfortably rest into your hair. “Quick, answer before it cuts off-“

“We’re in bed-“

Moving the fastest he had all day, you couldn’t even comprehend that Harry had accepted the call before a crackle of sound and another environment was heard through your phone speaker.

“He’s alive then,” Anne immediately spoke the minute her FaceTime screen had cleared from a blurry pixelated mess. “Yes, you young man. Trying to hide your face into your wife’s hair, like you know she’ll take your flack for you.”

You found yourself sinking further underneath your duvet as you watched Anne address Harry through the phone. Her tone was clearly abrasive but more so out of worry.

“You know I’ve been calling you,” she continued, pausing. “You needn’t look at me like that from the corner of your eye, Harry. Have you got food in your house?“

“We’re okay for food, Anne,” you acknowledged her, watching the way her eyes looked to your left, her stare holding on her youngest. As she blinked she turned to face you, her face softening. 

“Even better for loo roll,” Harry sarcastically quipped. 

Again, Anne’s eyes hardened as she skimmed them over her son’s less than impressed expression. 

“Put your face straight,” she sharply spoke. “What about protection?”

“‘Fucksake pass me tha’ phone ‘ere,” he groaned, rolling around to sit up in bed and take the phone away from you. You did nothing to fight him, slightly embarrassed at the insinuation and the current place in your house where Anne had caught you both.

Pulling at his joggers that sat low against his hips, Harry held the phone up so that his mother was no longer seeing the sweaty palm of his hand and then a quick glimpse of an unmade bed.

When her image graced his vision he noticed the way she was smiling, her face almost split in two before she sipped at her cup of tea. His eyes took in the garden behind her, one that he knew well and he knew she’d be enjoying her brunch on the nice spring day that awaited those who needed to do a quick top-up shop at their local supermarket, feel brave enough to pop outside.

Shaking his head, he raised his eyebrows at his Mum who seemed awfully pleased with herself. 

“Had yer fun now, I’m up. You’ve succeeded.”

“It’s bloody midday,” she chastised.

“Had a late night, didn’t we?,” he glanced over at you, watching the way your eyes almost popped out at his suggestive comment.

“Tell you what, this quarantine‘s gonna have a lot to answer for,” Anne started, her voice light. “Isn’t that right, Evie?” She spoke, the visual that greeted Harry being one of his mother softly showering his cat with love and affection. “‘S Daddy forgetting about you already? You made him a Daddy first isn’t that right?”

“Mum,” Harry’s tone was set as he stressed how he addressed Anne, willing her to stop her playful jibing at his expense. 

“‘M telling you, sweetheart. Baby boom is impending,” again Anne raised her eyebrows. All Harry could do was chuckle at how invested his Mum appeared to be in wanting to become a Grandmother. 

“Anyway,” she grabbed Harry’s attention again, as he bounced his way down the stairs of his home and padded his socked feet along his wooden floors. “Are you showering?” 

“‘M not a bloody sloth-“

“It’s midday and you’ve only just left your pit.”

He didn’t have a leg to stand on. You smiled as you heard their interaction, having been hot on Harry’s tails. As you relaxed against the doorframe of your kitchen, you heard Anne’s chuckling to herself before she next spoke. 

“Could do with a shave.”

“Anything else I’m not doing right?”

Pushing up off the doorframe, you found yourself drawn to Harry. Hand rubbing up his clothed back and shoulders, you rubbed at them gently and pushed your face into the frame.

“No, the beard can stay,” you turned to Harry, jokingly squeezing at his jaw and cheeks with your right hand solely, before you mischievously tapped his cheek and turned your attention to putting on your kitchen stove.

“The wife says no,” he jutted out his bottom lip in a challenge to his Mum.

“Not just the cat he’s replacing, Anne-“

Anne’s boisterous laugh filled your kitchen at your comment and it warmed you as you caught the way it had Harry softly laughing to. His body relaxing and bending down so his elbow rested against the kitchen counter, chin leaning against his palm. 

“There’s enough of me to go around,” he breathed out, cheekily looking at you from the corner of his eye. You loved the way his cheeks had started to softly glow with an endearing blush.

“You do look healthy, love,”

Just like that, gone was the cheeky smile, the glowing eyes. They were quick to be replaced by a light frown and slightly offended expression, “‘s tha’ s’pose to mean?”

“It’s only quarantine weight, nothing he can’t get rid of,” you said, leaning back into the frame and goadingly patting against Harry's little pot-belly that slightly stuck out against his t-shirt. “Can’t be having anyone else fancying him now, can I Anne?”

Again Anne laughed, eyes glittering through the screen as she watched the way the two of you interacted. It was clear that this conversation was something she definitely needed having been holed up in her abode by herself. 

Harry squinted his eyes suspiciously at you, before sharply looking at his Mum. “Oh, I see how it is,” he started with a soft nod. “The two of you ganging up on me, ‘s fine I’m a big boy.”

“The stretch waistband on your joggers agrees,” you hummed, raising your eyebrows before addressing Anne off screen. “We call this his quarantine outfit.”

“I tell you what, ‘s a good job you haven’t got to pour yourself into those skinny jeans anymore cause that would be a-“

You feel him staring at you, causing your voice to trail off. “No carry on, dares ya,” he drawled. He saw the way you opened your mouth to continue, nostrils flaring as you took a deep breath and looked at him with an amused expression.

“I-“

Harry darted at you as your voice caught in your throat, the loudest squeal leaving your lips as your phone clattered face down to the marble of you kitchen counter and gave Anne nothing more than the visual of a black screen framed by gleeful noises of a blissfully newlywed couple.

***

Quarantine is all fun and games until your husband of sixty-seven days decides he wants to put together the coffee table that you’d been gifted from a member of your wedding party. 

You knew Harry was becoming ansty as you entered day nine of your self-isolation. His fingers and thumbs too twitchy for his own good. You felt the same but by giving yourself a little list of tasks such as changing your bedding every couple of days, you’d managed to find a way to keep yourself busy enough. Between that, reading and scrolling mindlessly through social media, you were doing okay. Or so you thought. 

There was something about men and DIY. They all liked to think they were good at it. Especially when they’re looking for something to do. And while they groan when asked about doing the jobs around the house, there was surely an element of pleasure found in the most menial of tasks (more so in the current climate) and a smugness in being needed. 

Everything had started out well. Harry had made you snort your laughter at how he’d flamboyantly pulled open the box of the flat-pack furniture in the middle of your living room. 

Everything had been neatly wrapped in plastic, and while not ideal for the planet it was ideal for your pleasure of having everything organised. 

Sat cross-legged on the floor, in nothing more than a pair of underpants, socks and a t-shirt, Harry eagerly flipped through the white paper instructions.  

You smiled to yourself when you saw him trying to decipher the Italian instructions, knowing just how adamant he was about ensuring he kept his mind active during quarantine and that he made it so he had used the time wisely and learned a new skill.

“Think an awful lot of yourself, don’t you?” you teased, watching his gaze slowly lift and look at you through the hair that had fallen into his eyes. “Just read the English instructions, Harry.”

He smirked, dropping his eyes back down to the Italian instructions and ignoring your plea. 

“Thought you were supportive of my challenge of becoming a bilingual king,” he spoke sarcastically, tone set as he set his brow and really tried to concentrate on the drawings.

“But then that means I have to become a bilingual queen, and we all know that wouldn’t be a pretty sight.”

Harry laughed, reaching forward for one of the items he was looking for, scrutinising it by moving it around in his hands before placing it back down onto the floor.

“Could always just look at the pictures, love?”

“Pardon,” you spoke, rolling your head to look at him from where you lay along the couch, with eyes wider than usual at his brazen cheek. He didn’t reply, instead he shook his head while wearing the most amused expression you’d seen since the start of your quarantine.

Before you could stop yourself, you reached for a throw cushion from the sofa and threw it at him, the item hitting Harry not so elegantly against the shoulder as he leaned over to check he had the other parts required to complete the furniture assembly. 

He, of course, took it in his stride, grabbing at the cushion and sitting on it. “Thanks for that, darling. Arse would go numb otherwise.”

“You’re squishing my favourite throw pillow-“

“Took the name quite literally then,” he spoke with a tight voice as he raised himself up onto his knees and crawled across the rug underneath him. “If you don’t mind, I’m doing manly things over ‘ere.”

Instead of responding you turned on your side and buried your left cheek into another cushion. Seeing Harry so concentrated but messy had been one of the things you’d enjoyed the most about your time being holed up together. 

He had absolutely let himself go but loved every minute of doing so. His hair hadn’t been styled once since the two of you had shut up shop to recuperate. His clothes, of which he appeared to be wearing less and less as the days went by, were more high street special than couture runway. 

He’d never looked more attractive. Honestly. 

“Are you going to lie there and watch me, or are yer gonna help?”

Again his question was concentrated, his hands and eyes preoccupied. 

“Thought you liked being in control, doin’ all the work-“

He side-eyed you, his lips twitching up into a sly smile. “Need reminding, ‘s tha’ it?” 

“What I need is,” you paused, watching the way he kept his eyes on you. “What I need is for you to put up our coffee table.”

“What’s it look like I’m doing?”

“Like you’re staring at a bunch of parts-“

“‘S the instructions, not me!”

You stared at him as he laughed around his exclaimed words. Swinging your legs, you forced yourself to sit up and saw the way Harry moved slightly back to give you more space. “That’s it, gimme the bloody instructions, let’s have a look at these pictures.”

Somewhere amongst the friendly bickering you managed to help him sort out all the parts and count out all the screws just to make sure he had everything he needed. 

When you’d seen that he had laid everything out that he required, you pushed yourself up from the floor where you had placed yourself opposite Harry.

“Fancy a cuppa for your efforts?”

Scratching at the back of his head, he looked at you. “Not done much,” he scrunched his nose. “Could you grab me a water?”

You nodded, leaning down to press your lips to his. He hummed, happy, as you pulled away and offered him a series of soft pecks. “‘S nice,” he whispered.

“I am nice,” you confirmed. “I’ll grab a screwdriver or two from the garage, in case the allen keys don’t cut it.”

His laugh was a knowing one as you walked away and heard the first expletive leave Harry’s lips when he reached for the first part of the furniture to piece together. “‘S not lining up wi’the hole,” he shouted through from the lounge to the kitchen at you. 

You chuckled under your breath shaking your head before he shouted again, “‘s not what it sounds like!”

That caused you to bark a laugh. It was going to be a long afternoon. 

***

You weren’t quite sure where it had all gone wrong. From laughing about awful innuendo, to aggravatedly sighing at each other. Yet, you were there in the thick of it and seemingly very happy to ride the wave.

“This is your fault,” he muttered under his breath, the crackle of the paper as he snatched up the instructions to flick through them one more time bringing nothing more than frustration. You saw the way he slowly retraced his steps and try and figure out where it had gone wrong. 

“All I’ve done is pass you things,” you snapped back. “And if you’re gonna blame me at least put some conviction behind it and say it with your whole chest. Don’t be a wuss.” 

He grunted at that and if you hadn’t got your head buried into your phone, looking at work emails this time via the Outlook app, you would’ve seen the way he was mocking you and mouthing the words you had just said to him with a less than pleased look on his face. 

Harry sat with one coffee table leg to complete, however if his counting was correct he was a screw missing. Probably in more ways than one after this quarantine was over; the same going for you. 

“Wanted the coffee table up, continues to sit around and not help,” he spoke his words louder than he had envisaged them in his head, seeing the way your figure shifted on the couch as you heard him loud and clear.

“Thought I told you to stop mumbling under your breath,” you cut your eyes over to him, watching the way he waggled the screwdriver he was using in between his thumb and forefinger lightly.

The item shook and you were about to tell him off like he was your son, rather than your partner, if that screwdriver so much as softly scratched, never mind dented, the oak top of your coffee table.

What was annoying you more was how he was just sitting there. Not so much as moving a muscle and letting his eyes frantically move along the wooden flooring and lounge rugs, just expecting a screw to shine up at him like he was a magpie. 

With irrational anger bubbling inside of you, that wouldn’t have existed if you’d decided to sit outside in the garden to do your work rather than watching Harry, you sighed. 

“Shift your fat arse,” you said with more bite than you intended. 

Harry glared at you, his sharp stare meeting yours dead on in a silent question of ‘what did you just say to me?’

“You heard me,” you answered. “Move yourself!” 

The torment in his features as to whether he should remain stubborn and not move, or see where you were going with your harsh vagueness, played across his face.

Ultimately however, he wanted to finish this fucking thing. The one thing he wished he hadn’t started. 

Annoyed, he shuffled around so he found himself on his knees. He watched as you pushed yourself off the couch, and peered around his body to take in the space which he had just freed up. 

“There. You’re sitting on it!” 

Harry’s eyes dropped down at the space behind him, green gaze spotting the tiny silver, bane of his existence, almost instantly. He snatched up the tiny screw that has been underneath his thigh and looked at you with a pointed glare.

“Don’t know why you’re looking at me like that, mate.”

“Don’t ‘mate’ me,” he growled, snatching up the last coffee table leg this time and using the recently found screw to secure it to the table. 

Part of you wanted to laugh at the scene in front of you, the two of you facing off but neither of you able to look at the other.

“I’m waiting for my apology,” you said, soft smile hurting your lips, as he continued to fix into place the last piece. You thought your tone was light, as you found humour at how the two of you were easily beginning to get sick of each other now.

“Well, you’re gonna be waiting a long fucking time.”

And just like that he’d sucked away all the humour you’d felt towards the argument, faster than a vacuum cleaner.

“There’s no need to be an arsehole, I was joking-“

“Could’ve fucking fooled me,” he looked up at you, while you watched the way his arm began to tense as he got closer to the end of the screw becoming tight enough.

He was just as tight; a coil ready to spring and pop. 

“I can’t reason with you when you’re like this,” you stared at him, as you watched him chuckle with a shake of his head. He didn’t respond, happy to shoulder the blame if it meant he would get you out of his hair and give him a moment of peace.

Instead his eyes were trained on your feet as he watched you walk away. A sense of freedom washing over you both as you did so. 

***

You frowned down at the hob of your cooker and watched the way it sparkled up at you. Snatching up the cleaning detergent, you squeezed at the pump and watched the white foamy spray squirt unnecessarily against the already very clean surface.

This was your distraction, while Harry’s was continuing to push his nose into the novel of his choosing as he lay along your couch. You never were really much of a cleaner but quarantine meant that you were living in the same four walls for so long than you’d found even more of a sense of pride over your abode. 

Pressing your hands into the kitchen counter, you felt the front of your hair fall messily into your eyes as you took deep breaths. You were more sad than angry now. This weird feeling sitting in your chest that was overriding your sense of thinking rationally.

Why should you apologise? Really. Why?

Why shouldn’t he apologise? Be the bigger person in this whole thing? 

Breathing deeply in through your nose, you lifted your eyes up to look at the kettle that sat to you right. Before you even thought about it you flicked your wrist and pressed at the lever of the kettle.

The amber light signified that it was about to boil, the usual crackle following not too long after. 

Raising up, you rolled your neck and shoulders, feeling the tension beneath them that would only be alleviated by a massage of some sort. Foot steps heavy as they trudged over to the opposite side of your kitchen to the sink draining rack, your preferred mug was easy to grab.

You hand stilled as you reached for his mug, the sound of a dry cough pushing its way through the tense air from the other room. From the sound of it you knew he hadn’t approached and that he was still in his own brooding state, having taken root along the couch. 

Medical professionals had told both you and Harry via telephone that while you were experiencing symptoms of the virus, you were leaning more so to a common cold given the bout of sneezing that had so gracefully taken over you both on day five of being cooped up.

Regardless of not being considered vulnerable the time was still a scary one, and the thought of losing loved ones very much at the front of your mind.

Which is why you should apologise.

You huffed at your conscience, snatching up Harry’s mug and sitting it next to yours. Two tea bags later,steaming hot water and a dash of milk, you took solace in the tinker of the spoon against the ceramic.

Cleaning products tossed aside, hands washed for at least the thirtieth time that day, you curled your fingers around the handles and tip-toed carefully towards your living room 

Halting at the edge of the room, you took in Harry’s figure as he lay along the couch. Dressed in nothing more than a t-shirt that read the infamous slogan he was known for, a pair of y-front pants that should be nothing more than repulsive to you and sports socks; he looked comforting even though sulky. 

Soft frown etched in between his brows, Harry’s eyes were frantically moving over the pages of the book that had him incredibly engrossed. You watched the way he licked at the middle finger of his right hand and turned the page.

Before you could stop yourself, a tut escaped your lips. He shouldn’t be putting his hands anywhere near his face. When was the last time he’d washed them? 

The noise caused Harry to sharply cut his eyes to you, abruptly pulling them from the pages of the paperback and onto your figure. You stood, awkward under his gaze, watching his eyes drop to the two mugs you held.

“Shouldn’t be doing that,” you lazily commented on him licking his fingers. “When did you last sanitise?”

“Please get off my arse,” he deadpanned. 

You swallowed harshly, continuing to feel heavier from your previous bicker. You didn’t want this unnecessary animosity to continue at all. He must’ve known that from the way his face softened slightly as he dropped his eyes, that were now not as harsh with their gaze as when he previously looked at you, to the steaming mugs.

“‘S all this,” he hummed. “‘S my mug.”

“It is,” you croaked, acknowledging his obvious statement. “‘S me bringing you a peace offering.”

“Brought any biscuits wi’yer?”

Your lips twitched at his question, offering nothing more than a shake of your head in response.

“‘S no good,” he hummed, eyes turning back to his book as he nudged his body over slightly to create a bigger gap next to him. A gap that looked awfully big enough to hold you.

Feeling brave from his light conversation, you walked closer. The dull thud of the heavy, tea-filled mugs hitting the coffee table that had just three hours earlier caused world war three in the four walls of your home, nervously brought you attention back to the sole reason you weren’t talking.

Over an inanimate object. 

Not wanting to push your luck, you slowly let the remaining part of the large couch above Harry’s head swallow you. Mind now no longer engulfed by the worry of confrontation, your senses tuned in to the soft hum of a record playing in the top corner of your lounge and the partially agitated sigh that left Harry’s lips.

You didn’t acknowledge it, choosing to instead blow gently at the warm mug held securely between both your hands. You knew it would be too hot for you to even consider drinking just yet.

Legs curled up underneath and to the side of you, you dropped your neck back slightly to rest against the marshmallow-like cushions and relax.

Finding comfort wasn’t easy, as your space had gotten smaller and smaller as the day went by. Part of you didn’t want it to get bigger though. Being in a bubble could be very pleasing, very pleasing. 

Lips twitched up at your thoughts, only deepening when you felt the soft grip of fingertips gently pinching at your calves. The same fingertips then flattened out, smoothing down and around your muscle to lightly tug.

Heavy head slowly lifting up, you took in the sight beneath you. Harry had reached behind him, his right elbow lifted awkwardly into the air as his left arm held his book above his head. His eyes remained trained to his book, as he flipped it slightly in his grip to read onto the next page.

You sighed as you watched the way his index and middle finger gently rubbed the soft fabric of your fluffy socks between his fingers, like some self soothing mechanism. 

The blissful noise alerted your husband, his head tilted back so he was looking at you from upside down. “Why’re all the way over there?” He asked softly.

You chuckled against your mug. “You’re touching me, I’m hardly in safe social distance according to advice.”

“Not touching you enough,” he spoke deeply. “Come an’ love me.”

Nose scrunching up at his tone, you reached forward as you rolled your lips into your mouth. 

“Have I got to?” You playfully questioned, feeling the tug of his hand become more forceful.

“If yer know what’s good for yer, yer will,” he groused. 

Fighting your smile, you ran your tongue against your teeth and tried to remember if you’d brushed them that morning. As disgusting as it sounded, everything was beginning to blur. Days into nights into days. 

You slipped off the couch and felt Harry watching you as he manoeuvred to his side. Laying down next to him in such a small space was in some silly way, exhilarating. The idea of being able to feel him against you; the shudder of his stomach as he laughed and the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed, was everything you needed to get you through quarantine. 

The softest smile hit your face as you watched the way he wordlessly lifted his arm to welcome you to him. Sinking into the couch, while it was easy before, definitely felt easier this second time around. 

You nestled into his strong chest, feeling his shuffle underneath you and immediately begin to play with the hem of your short sleeve, his fingers lightly grazing against your skin.

Nudging your nose underneath his jawline, you enjoyed the way his stubbled gently tickled you. Harry was always warm and comforting, the right kind of strong and equally the right kind of soft. He had this way of making you feel small but in the tallest of ways. 

“Thank you,” you gently whispered when you felt him draw you close to him and saw the way he lifted his book up even high above the two of you so you could see the pages too. 

Your hand sat resting just above his belly, and you felt the way it slightly jiggled as he cleared his throat. 

He read to you, parts of a book that were realistically intimate that you found now more than anything that making up was the only option. 

“Talking to me properly now,” you mouthed against his skin after he stopped reading aloud. 

“‘S not me, it’s Bethan Roberts,” he replied, turning the book slightly in his hands so you could see the cover. 

“Well tell her I said thanks, managed to get my sulky hubby to produce more than a grunt-“

You heard him groan at your words, “Please don’t call me that.”

“What? Sulky?”

Harry turned his head slightly as he looked down his nose at you, the softest double chin forming. “No. I mean, hubby.” 

You gigged. Yes, giggled. Unattractively too. “How about my favourite handy man?”

“Darling,” he warned, not wanting you to pick the scab off a barely healing wound from the much earlier interaction. 

Lifting up, you nudged your nose against his cheek, softly sweeping against his facial hair before you located the corner of his mouth. “Not the only one who is good with their hands, you know?”

“‘S tha’ right,” he replied, fighting the laughter itching at his throat. “Think you’re talking shit.” 

“But you know I’m not,” you softly rasped, free hand bunching up at the front of Harry’s t-shirt, nails catching against the hairy trail on his stomach. “‘M trying to say I’m sorry.” 

“‘M listening, keep going,” he hummed, eyes closed and face blissfully aware he had gotten his own way. You scrunched your nose at his interjection, knowing how much he was thriving at the way you were skirting around your apology. 

“You’re such a wanker-“

The breathy laugh that left his mouth had you melting into him, the softest nudge of your lips to his accompanied by a gasped intake of breath as Harry opened his mouth wider. 

Hand pressed against his face, you enjoyed feeling the way his jaw extended as he gave you more of him. A satisfied hum lulled your kissing to an erotic stroking of tongues that had him chasing you when you lips parted.

You tilted your head back as he tried to catch your lips with his again, body jostling in the close confinement when he fallen short of his prize. 

“Darling,” he drawled, nosing along the center of your neck, your fingers clawing through the hair on the back of his head. You enjoyed the feeling of his face squashed against your skin as he muffled his protests at you not letting him have your lips and have his way. 

His playful growl when he broke free of your vice grip to his hair caused you to gleefully squeal, still thrashing to create a cat and mouse game over the sharing of kisses. 

By pressing his feet against the arm of the couch, Harry managed to create a leverage over your body. He rolled slightly, face pressed heavily into your cheek as he caught his breath.

“Darling, why’re you being like tha’? I’m trying to show I’m sorry too,” he heavily breathed. “Put it back.”

“Ask nicely,” you panted in return, hand toying above his aching buldge. 

“‘M always nice-“ you shook your head at his words. “No? ‘M sorry, sorry darlin’-“

His apology fell away from his lips as you grazed at his heavy bulge, a breathy chuckle bouncing against your already wet and messy lips. 

“Can a bloke not read a book while in quarantine in peace?”

“He can if he wants,” you spoke light, hands playing at the waistband of his underwear before sliding down and gently gripping at his bum cheek.

“Wha’ ya doin’?” 

“‘S it look like?”

“Like you’re gonna give me a handy.” 

“Harry,” you stressed his name as he chucked at his pathetic attempt at a joke. 

“Jus’ go with it,” he smiled, eyes closed and content, as he rested his head back slightly.

“Only if you help,” you started, you hand stroking gently back around to his lower abdomen. “Look at me.”

“Look at you, takin’ charge. Want me to wank in front of yer?”

“Do you want me to play with you or not?”

Harry cupped the back of your neck, letting the question die against his lips as he eagerly coaxed your mouth to open up again. Yes, he would like that very much. 

Your hand fell still at the top of his underpants as the two of you necked on, lying along the sofa like teens that had their parents house free for a whole weekend; all choked groans and light sighs as neither of you wanted to part.

When you finally came to your senses, you dropped your hand and slid it over the cotton of Harry’s underwear. He felt heavy and warm, his arousal present but you still had enough of a chance to toy with him. 

Massaging him through the cotton of his briefs, the sinful groans leaving his lips had you eager to get started. Your hand, ahead of your brain, pushed underneath the waistband as Harry choked at you to slow down.

“‘M too dry,” he mumbled, looking down at you, all soft double chin and stubble. He seemed conflicted, knowing it was a necessary step but just as eager. “Hang on-“

The shuffle of his body caused you to frown as you tried to anchor yourself to him and not fall off the side of the couch. The two of you chuckled as he felt the way you almost slid out from underneath his grip, his whispered “I‘ve got yer” almost lost against the sound of your creaking couch.

His hand slid down against the top of yours and gently squeezed against both his aching cock and your much more nimble fingers.

“You always feel so heavy in my hand, H,” you whispered sultrily. “Let me have it.”

Harry breathed deeply through his nose as you felt the way he circled his hand around your wrist and gently tugged upwards. 

You couldn’t take your eyes off him as he pressed the softest of wet kisses to the inside of your palm, his tongue, as pink as his lips, gently licked at your skin. His eyes were closed, a dip to his brows as he embodied a high level of erotic passion. 

Lips puckered and skimming up against your fingers, you felt the way Harry opened his mouth wider, soft tongue now lapping gently at the fingertips of your middle and third finger.

With half a smirk gracing your lips, you slowly lifted your eyes from his mouth, vision tracing up his features before you found his awaiting hazy stare, strong on yours. 

You were enjoying the lewd gesture and his commitment to holding your gaze, as you felty yourself flush with unnecessary embarrassment at the visual of your sodden fingers softly slipping from his lips.

The string of saliva left behind by his ardent sucking, coupled with the soft bounce of his bottom lips as you playfully pull at it with the tips of your fingers, had you incessantly mesmerised and craving to kiss.

Harry less than gracefully pushed down at your hand, as the digits of his right palm loosely became woven into the hair on the back of your head. 

Jolting forward and breathing heavily against each other’s mouths, Harry licked gently into your mouth and pushed down at his underwear using your fingers.

You giggled at his desperate movements and enjoyed the way his mouth went slack against yours as you grasped at his cock, with ease this time. Trembling breath bouncing against your lips, so satisfying for you. 

Harry was always vocal, but there was something about him as he lay squashed against you in the dimming evening light that brought out a wildness unmatched. 

The slide of your hand along his shaft eased a coiled tension within Harry as he heavily breathed against the corner of your mouth incoherent praise and subconsciously raised his hips upwards into your enclosed grip as you dared to loosen your fingers around him. 

He was greedy for it. His hand once more pulling against the back of your shirt, so the hem now no longer covered your backside but instead sat awkwardly against your lower back.

His moans became muffled as he rolled his lips into his mouth, and caused your vision to blur from the way he heavily pressed his face into yours.

“Fuck me, ‘m gonna come,” he spoke, voice deeper than before, his words lazier as they omitted from him before he gulped. “Unugh, pull me out.”’

Left hand free, Harry beat you to his request. With briefs now bunched against his thighs he tried his hardest to get them down his body, with a rub of his thighs as he gripped firmly at your thigh.

His hand slid up your smooth skin, fingers finding your bare arse cheek and slapping against your taught skin as he encouraged you to wrap your thigh over his hip.

“Gonna leave some cracking marks all over this body by the time I’m done with you,” he spoke firmly into the column of your throat. “Leaning back from me wi’out me ‘aving to tell you an’all- giving me the space I need to shag you just right.” 

He took his time to see the way you’d arched for him, head somewhat hanging over the side of the couch as he tried to figure out how to line himself up and please you the only way he knew how. 

“Where’d you want me?” he groused, eyes looking down to the pull of your hips towards each other, “Hm? Here okay? With your fingers or mine?” 

You wetly whimpered at him, scratching your nails against the skin of his naval before you pressed the palm he had previously licked flat against your centre. Grinding down against your skin, the heel of your palm bumped salaciously against your clit. 

“Dirty girl, knows what she wants,” he reached between you, the heat of your core attracting his aching cock that easily as it aligned itself to you. “Sit back on me, gently… Gentle.” 

Your fingers could feel the way his cock sunk into you, disappearing inch by inch until your hand was awkwardly squashed between the both of your pelvises. 

Somehow you managed to slide your hand around to Harry’s soft hips where you dipped your fingertips into his skin. His mouth sucked at your sternum, revelling in the feel of you having taken him all. 

“Giving me your belly,” he confirmed, “Took me all the way, doll. Want all of me, all of my apology eh.”

“God, Harry,” you keened. “Do something.”

He rocked his hips, pressing his feet into the arm of the couch to create a nice leverage and force that tensed his thighs and started a rustling sound against the couch material. 

“I am,” he stressed, softly gritting his teeth and seeing you watch him through hooded eyelids. “Don’t just lay there and take me,” he mouthed against your lips. “Give me as good as you get, yeah,” he chuckled as he felt the pressure of your pushing into him, stepping up to his request. 

“You’re my favourite lover,” he gasped.

“I better be your only lover,” you breathlessly threatened, tilting your head back. He hummed as he burrowed his head deeper into your jaw. 

“You’re the only one I shag like this,” he replied, hand sliding down when he felt your thighs start to give way. “Thighs up or ‘m stopping.”

You whined feeling a burning sensation forming in the crease of your thigh as you tried to keep yourself as closely connected to Harry as possible. “You wouldn’t,” you goaded him, the heel of your foot running against the back of his hairy thigh.

“Wouldn’t I?” He questioned, brushing back your hair that was starting to get sweaty. When you thought about it, the whole of your body was. 

The warmth radiating from each tilt and rock of your hips a little easier with formed sweat and arousal, while the feel of Harry’s hand splayed out against arse cheek, made you feel owned. 

He held you tight as he slowly moved against you, rocking back and forth as you self-soothed egos and bruised hearts. Heavy breaths mingled between kisses as he admitted his love for you and you for him. 

“Missed you today,” he murmured against your cheekbone.

“I’ve been here-“

He nudged his nose against you now, as he shook his head. “Been different, sick of me and these four walls. Beginning to climb ‘em, ain’t we? Have’ta tell me, so I can ‘ave a go at fixing it.”

“Isn’t that why we are argued to begin with, cause of your fixing-“

His lips quirked at your quickness, “Smart arse.”

Humming, you brushed his hair away, scratching by his ear and hearing his pleased purrs at your shower of affections. 

“We’re good, show me we’re good-“ you dipped your head back as he pulled you tighter against him, thrusting and creating the first clapping sound of your skin that evening. “Yes, show me we’re better than good.” 

Harry felt the way your skin was tacky against his, his hand peeling away from your bum to your thigh. A weird humidity had  clouded the lounge not usually felt in the British Spring Time, woven with the heady smell of your sex and unadulterated love.

All space was eliminated between both of your bodies as he knocked up into you, skin rubbing from the force. 

“Why didn’t you take off this bloody shirt?” You groaned, scratching your nails against the fabric, as you clung to him. 

“Cause someone could wait to have her way wi’me,” he chimed, voice light and singing. “God you want it don’t you?”

He could feel the way you were squeezing at him, releasing a guttural gasp at his questioning of you. You pulled him deeper than anyone has ever been able to do and that made him proud. Proud to call you his. His lover, his wife. His lifetime. 

“Harry, I’m gonna come,” you panted, high-pitched and positively annoying to anyone outside your shared lust. Nails again irritatingly scratched against his back, this time he was thankful he kept his t-shirt on, not wanting to deal with any stinging skin in the shower later on.

With each forceful thrust, he pressed at your arse forcing your hips into his as he pulled you into him. He knew you were fast approaching your release, a change in the way you writhed against him and produced keening whines that pulled a smugness like no other from his chest. 

Hair falling against his forehead, sweaty and unforgiving, Harry rested his forehead against yours and sucked passionately at your bruise lips and lapped at your saltiness. His focus zoned in on only you, your hitching breath on his face and tired body heavier in arms.

He knew you were spent but he was grateful for your trying. Eyes halfway shut but lips managing to entice him by forming his name faintly and loud enough for him to hear. The erotic murmur easily made a mess of him faster than your loudest moans only moments earlier.

This was yours. This was his.

No one saw you like this but him. No one saw him like this but you.

“‘M so in love wi’you,” he admitted, watching your eyes roll back into your head, body trembling as you got closer to your peak. “Giving me a good one, tha’ I don’t deserve.”

He smiled as he watched the way you rubbed against him, as he felt you squeeze around him, pulling a choked moan from him as he squeezed at the back of your neck with his right hand, and quickened the motion of his hips.

“Don’t stop,” you panted heavily, body tightening as your mouth fell open, silently. Eyes fluttering shut as you babbled his name and he changed the roll of his hips to deep nudges to get him what he wanted from your sensitivity. 

Your body went slack against him as he bottomed out inside of you, he mouthed into your skin, “Know you're tired but don’t go still on me. Love me back.”

Mewling at his breathy request, you tried to match his deep thrusts as best you could, feeling his hand against your clit. “Harry,” you whispered in a warning.

“Okay, okay, I won’t- had enough?”

“Want some more,” you hummed, even though you knew you shouldn’t, already feeling faintly sore. 

He growled, through his closed mouth, bum cheeks clenched as he felt the way you took him. Selfless and affectionate. In that moment, he knew he would never find another like you. 

And that was enough for him to give you everything he had.

And you took it all. Fingers woven through the back of his head, clinging to his head as he burrowed down into your neck. Fierce grunts muffled and chest tight, gasping for air. 

Your come down was bittersweet. The feel of Harry softening between your legs, before resting between them in a way that was wet and spent. A familiar moment. 

Harry took his time admiring you, gaze looking at your flushed out cheeks and sparkling eyes. 

The two of you lay in silence, Harry brushing back your hair before pushing himself up and leaning on his hand. Looking up at him, you swore you’d never seen anyone more handsome and comfortable within themselves.

The crack of an elastic waistband caused you to look down your bodies as you watched the way he fidgeted with his underpants that he had just pulled back on.

“Why’ve you done that. Take ‘em back off,” you poured, looking up at him wide eyed. He chuckled down at you and your demanding words. 

“‘S gone cold, y’know,” he hummed. “Won’t do so much for my ego, if you see wha’ it’s like down there when ‘m cold.”

“Does the job alright for me,” you said, pulling him down to you. 

With a chuckle, he pecked you’re lips to try and satiate you, before he pulled away. Eyes falling onto your two mugs of tea that sat within arms reach on your coffee table. 

“‘M fuckin’ parched,” he said. “Hold onto me a sec.”

Before you could think, Harry was rolling his body over yours, doing his best to keep his weight off you completely. You clenched your fingers into his shirt, watching him with wide eyes as he scooped up his mug and took a sip.

“‘S gone cold,” he murmured, before he swigged at the drink again. You looked up at him in all your double chin glory.

“No change there then. Gonna have to start rationing the tea bags cause you’re taking the piss not drinking the teas I make you.”

He dropped his gaze, eyes looking at yours. “D’ya need some tissue to clean up?”

You hummed, not wanting to make a move. 

“Gonna have to start rationing the toilet roll cause you're taking the piss-“ he didn’t get to finish his sentence before you covered his mouth with your hand.

And if he knew what was good for him he wouldn’t finish it either.

***

Shout out to my usual suspects who always put up with my bullshit @waitingfortwilight, @harryfeatgaga, @huccimermaidshirts, @haute-romance-quotidienne, @majorharry and @for-fucks-sake-h. Also, @harrysonlyangelsss and @sweetcreatureinthedark, because why not?

Big up @waitingfortwilight for the title <3

[that-good-trash]

Trust Me?

Bakugou x reader / Shinsou x reader

Warning: Hurt/comfort, Angst, Mentions of cheating, Happy Ending?

Word Count: 6.5k

Summary: You love your boyfriend more than anything but it seems he might not feel the same way anymore. When the same friend that planted the seed of doubt ends up your shoulder to cry on where do you go from there. 

Authors note: I’ve been dealing with a lot of stuff and this was kind of my self indulgence fic. Please Enjoy!

P.S: I was thinking about jumping on the kinktober bandwagon but I’m worried I can’t do kink justice. Maybe look out for some quick one shots if I do. I am also having to rewrite the fourth chapter of Burn Away With Me because the original file somehow ended up freaking deleted (note to self and others always back up files or make a copy). 

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Saturdays were meant for relaxation, for hanging out with friends without a worry. The weekend was meant to provide a chance to shed your hero uniform and trade it for a cute comfy outfit. Well that’s how weekends should be, that’s what you wish you were able to do. Instead you sat on your couch scrolling through your phone watching your friends have fun without you. Pictures of dancing and drinking continuously pass as your fingers move absentmindedly. A picture of Mina taking shots followed by photos of Kaminari on a tabletop. This always happened, you had been missing out for weeks now. However, this problem went deeper than missing a few weekend hangouts. Your boyfriend, whom you had been with for almost three years, had been canceling plans with you for the last few months. Every time you both had a day off, he always got called in or he had made previous plans. It was starting to get old. Had he always been so flaky? Had you just not noticed before or was this new. Either way you were now fully aware of his behavior and how little attention you received from him. Your screen lit up with messages from friends telling you to ‘get your ass to the club’ immediately. Oh, how you wanted too. You wished you were wearing a skimpy outfit grinding against your besties laughing and enjoying yourself. Instead of getting into your club attire you put your phone onto the coffee table. Your back hits the cushions behind you as you fall backward. A sigh slips out and you’re ready to reevaluate your life. What kind of relationship was this? You felt like you were alone, and it was starting to seep into your conscious letting that little voice grow louder and louder with doubt and self-deprivation. It took every ounce of your being to reject the thoughts, to lull yourself back into a false sense of security. Your phone ringing disrupted your thoughts good or bad.

“Hey, I was just thinking about you! I miss-” You didn’t get to finish your sentence before the deep grouchy voice of Katsuki Bakugou interrupted you.

“I won’t be home tonight. Don’t wait up for me, just eat dinner and go to bed.” He sounded like he had been sounding. He sounded tired with a swirl of irritation and it took a lot to convince yourself that it wasn’t toward you. You had to bite your bottom lip to prevent yourself from screaming at him for doing this again. You loved him, did so much for him, that it hurt for him to just blow you off. What was even worse was he didn’t even tell you why he wasn’t coming home. He just expected you to turn in early without even an explanation. You wanted to cuddle or go out with friends and he wanted you to spend the night alone.

“Suki… Why aren’t you coming home? You said last week that you were going to try to come home early.” A growl of frustration could be heard on the other side causing you to tense up. You knew you were upsetting him but that wasn’t fair. He had no right to be upset with you since you were only asking him a simple question and stating a fact. He had promised you that he would start coming home early to spend time with you. You knew that being a hero was hard, you were one. However, you also knew when someone was just making excuses and that’s what this was becoming.

“Christ woman! I have work to do! I said I would try, and I have tried. Obviously, I couldn’t make it home tonight so just listen for once and don’t wait up.” No chance of rebuttal, he had hung up immediately after snapping. That was it. The last straw. You let the tears you had been suppressing fall freely. Your phone was aggressively tossed to the ground and unfortunately your body followed it. Your knees hit the ground first before your clenched fist dug into the carpet. Your head buried itself into the carpet before a scream escaped. It was one of filled so much pent up emotion. A scream that needed to be freed, to help release you from this torture he was putting you through. You sat back on the balls of your feet, your hands swiping at your eyes rubbing the tears into your skin. You cried more causing your hands to rub harder, your skin stung and burned from the aggressive motion. Your phone chimed bring your attention back to it. Your hand held the device hoping for an apology but instead read the newest text from Mina. It was another invite, but the party had moved from the club to Yaoyorozu’s house. A smirk replaced your previous forlorn look. You stood up from the floor letting all sadness be hidden away by pettiness. If he could ditch you like that, go back on a promise so easily then you could go against him. He wanted you to stay home like a good girl, but you didn’t feel like being that good girl. You had never changed so fast in your life. Your pajamas were traded in for a formfitting outfit, one your kept for special Mina party occasions. You looked at yourself in the mirror with gleaming confidence. You outfit accentuated all your nooks and crannies. You looked smoking hot and with some simple yet stunning makeup you were ready to go. A quick text to Mina and you left the cold lonely apartment

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

The party wasn’t over the top and thankfully everyone there was a former classmate. You waved as a few people turned to look at you. Sero had to do a double take to make sure he was witnessing reality and not a ghost. You rolled your eyes as his tape grabbed your wrist before a swift yank had you in his arms. A soft chuckle escaped from your lips that were buried in his chest. He smelled like cedar and felt warm. You let your body relax against his as he let you go but kept his hand on your waist. Kaminari had abandoned his post next to Jiro and rushed over. Before he could try and snatch you away from Sero a new pair of arms circled you. Mina was smiling against you neck as she stuck his tongue out at a now pouting Kaminari.

“I’m so glad you actually decided to make it tonight. We were starting to think you hated us.” You shook your head at the fake hurt in her voice. The boys weren’t helping since they nodded along with Mina. You pulled out his grasp backing away so you could see all three of them. They really had changed in the short span of time since you had seen them. Sero was rocking a cool new undercut while Kaminari seemed a little more built. Mina had also cut her hair, but you knew that since you basically stalked your friends.

“I’m so sorry guys. It’s been crazy, work and home have been a little hectic.” A scoff could be heard behind you. Everyone’s eyes shifted to Uraraka who had her arms crossed. Midoriya stood behind her awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck. Uraraka’s puffed out cheeks mimicked that of a chipmunk. You raised a brow at her strange behavior. “Did I say something to offend you.”

“No but why lie? We all know that the reason we don’t see you anymore is because of Bakugou.” Your eyes widened at her straightforward accusation. You looked at Midoriya waiting for him to comment but he remained silent, probably in fear of getting involved. You narrow your eyes trying to hold some dignity. “Bakugou and I are fine okay. I just haven’t had the time to make it to any hang outs because I spend time with him.”

Now everyone was looking at you. For being the only sober person in the room you were sounding like the drunk one. Everyone knew that Bakugou had been blowing off plans with you. It was inevitably that they found out since most everyone talks, and things get around. A sigh that matched the one back at your apartment came out. You looked defeated as you returned to Sero’s side. He rubbed your side while Mina shooed everyone’s attention off you. “You don’t have to talk about it but we’re here for you.”

“Thanks guys…” You closed your eyes trying to let your emotions settle before returning to the fun party you had yet to enjoy and partake in. When you reopened your eyes, a smile followed. You were going to have fun even if it killed you. Mina squealed when you asked for a drink and before you knew it one turned to three. Uraraka had ditched her sour attitude and replaced it with giggles as the two of you danced together. You broke free from Uraraka as you watched Kirishima walk through the front door. You didn’t even give the boy a chance to take off his coat before you were tackling him. He was shocked to see you at the party just like the others had been.

“What are you doing out so late? Isn’t Bakubro’s bedtime at 8pm.” Kirishima was able to get a laugh out of you along with the other members of the Bakusquad.

“Yeah his bedtime would be 8pm if he ever came home. He’s always working late. I never see him anymore.” As the words left your lips you felt the air grow cold. Tension was evident. You froze as you felt your blood run cold. There was an unspoken understanding, but you knew that Kirishima wasn’t going to remain silent. He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly which was accompanied by a shaky laugh that turned into him clearing his throat.

“I might be wrong but Bakugou hasn’t been working late… I was one of the last people to leave the office. Bakugou left at his usual time…” You wanted to pretend to be ignorant, but this couldn’t be swept under the rug. You couldn’t act like you hadn’t just been told that your boyfriend had been lying to you for months. Oh god your stomach began to churn, and you pushed passed him and through the front door. You ran into someone before turning and throwing up into one of the planters. Sero and Mina ran after you. Kirishima stood in the doorway feeling guilty but also pissed knowing that the person at fault was his best friend. You felt a comforting hand on your back rubbing it gently. You assumed Mina but when you finally turned around your eyes met with lavender ones. A broken smile cracked across your face. He held his arms open and you ran into them without hesitation. Shinsou had always been there for you when you were both attending UA, but time was cruel, and you couldn’t remember the last time you felt secure in his tight embrace. You sobbed and he just let you. Your friends stood by watching with conflicting emotions.

“What the hell did that asshole do now.” Shinsou was never one to speak to you like you were fragile; he was always blunt and honest. He also never approved of your relationship so of course he’d blame your current state on Bakugou. You wanted to tell Shinsou but couldn’t get the words out. Thankfully you had friends who could speak for you. Sero was the one who spoke up. “She found out that Bakugou hasn’t been staying at work late. She is obviously thinking the worst but he’s probably training or visiting his parents.”

“Bakugou? I just saw him at that fancy restaurant that we went to for Midoriya’s birthday. He was there with some busty bimbo. They seemed pretty interested in the conversation they were sharing. She must be a client or some woman after an interview.” Shinso knew exactly what he was doing when he told you about the mystery woman. He hated hurting you, but it was a necessary evil. Shinsou had always had feelings for you even before he understood them. You were always by his side cheering him on and now he was going to do the same for you. Before he could build you back up, he’s having to let you crumble under the lies Bakugou told you. Your eyes shimmered with unshed tears and a storm was brewing. Your fists were clenched, and your friends hesitated to approach you. You swiftly turned around walking passed everyone back inside before grabbing your keys and leaving. You could hear your friends yelling for you, but you never stopped. Shinsou watched your car drive off into the distance. He knew this was going to end terribly but he would be there to catch you. Thankfully since the ground was already starting to give out.

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

“Where the hell have you been!” Bakugou almost dropped his keys as you tried to quietly enter your shared apartment. He turned growling at your accusatory tone. He slammed the door before turning to you. In the light that was cast from the hallway you could see his hair was disheveled, his shirt was wrinkled, and you could swear he smelled a little sweeter than usual. The signs all shone brightly in front of you. Bakugou approached you ready to start an argument over your attitude but stopped when he saw your eyes. They were sunken in, bloodshot, and lifeless. He had never seen you like this. His expression softened before he reached up to cup your cheek. His hand never got to touch you before it was smacked away. “What the fuck Y/n!”

“Who is she… Actually, I don’t want to know. I just want to know why.” Bakugou wasn’t expecting your accusation so he couldn’t help but look shocked. Guilt seemed to creep over him before it was covered up with denial and anger. He scoffed and walked past you toward the bedroom. He didn’t make it before you had spun him around yelling this time. “WHY THE HELL DID YOU CHEAT!”

“SHUT THE HELL UP WOMAN! I DIDN’T DO SHIT! Who the fuck filled your head with such idiotic thoughts? Did you go out with those idiots again? Was it raccoon eyes or maybe that shitty Deku. Whoever told you that is a liar and needs a fucking hobby?” Bakugou yanked his arm away before heading into the bathroom to shower, no doubt to hide the evidence of his infidelity. You wanted to keep shouting and accusing him, but you knew it was pointless. If Bakugou thought he was innocent then he was no matter what kind of proof you had, which was none. Giving up was not an option and as much as this was your home you had to leave. Your chest tightened as you packed your bags. The only sound keeping you company was the shower Bakugou was currently occupying. You wrote a note and gently placed it onto your pillow before turning to leave. You felt your heart stop as Bakugou stared at you wide eyed. You felt like a deer in the headlight. He walked toward you, his hand reaching behind you to grab the note. He read it to himself before burning it in his grip. You flinched at the heat the radiated directly to your left. Bakugou growled as he loomed over you. “So, you’re leaving huh. You think you can just write a fucking note and disappear into the night. You aren’t going anywhere.”

A scream escaped as he grabbed you pushing you into the bed. His hands holding your arms above your head. He smirked as his towel fell at his feet. His grip tightened when you resisted. His knee pushing your legs apart. He shifted onto the bed never letting go of you and never moving his knee which was painfully pressed against you. “What the fuck are you doing Bakugou!”

“You think I’m cheating? Then I’ll just give you the attention you seem to be so deprived of to come up with such bullshit accusations.” You didn’t want this. You didn’t want his hand aggressively holding you down, you didn’t want his knee pushing against your crotch, you didn’t want his teeth biting into your neck like some kind of feral animal. You needed to get away. Your head smashed into his face allowing you the time you needed to get out from underneath him. He cursed while holding his bleeding nose. You grabbed your bags bolting to the front door but before you could open it, he caught you. His arms holding your waist from behind. You let out another scream of fear and agony before the back of your head smashed into his nose, again. A growl slipped out and you finally got the door open. Before you could make your escape Bakugou’s fingers slipped into your hair yanking you back. His lips touched your ear and you could smell the blood flowing freely down his lips. “She felt a million times better than you.”

No words came out instead a choked sob and a whimper as you felt him let you go. You didn’t even hear the door slam you were already out of the apartment complex and in your car. Your hands shook as you called the only person you could think to be awake. “Hey Y/n, what’s wrong?

“Shinsou, I need you.”

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

Bakugou tried to call you a million times after you left but to no avail. You had even blocked his number. He tried to find out where you had gone but no one would share that information with him. He had even gone to your agency but all they could tell him was that you were on a leave of absence. Bakugou truly had fucked up with no sign of reconciliation. It had been a week of trying to find you and failing. Mina, Sero, Kaminari, and Kirishima claimed that they hadn’t heard from you which wasn’t really a lie. They knew that you left Bakugou and that you were crashing at Shinsou’s, but they had yet to visit. Everyone was worried about you, but they didn’t know the truth. They knew you had some kind of falling out but that was it. They had no idea what had actually happened.

“Are you going to lay in bed all day or are you going to actually get up.” Shinsou was teasing you as he slipped on his hoodie that he had to steal back from you. The day that you called him he was ready to break Bakugou’s jaw. He couldn’t believe what you had gone through and he partially felt like he was to blame for telling you about the girl, however you had the right to know that your boyfriend had been cheating on you. Shinsou had tried to make you as comfortable as he could but you were starting to get stir crazy.

“Why am I hiding when he’s the jerk who hurt me!” Shinsou shrugged as you threw his blanket off your body. You rolled out of his bed and stood in front of him pouting. He ruffled your hair while rolling his eyes at your outburst. He had dealt with multiple versions of you over the last few days. Sad, angry, regretful, spiteful, and any emotion in-between.

“Y/n, you don’t have to hide. You are safe with me, but you shouldn’t feel like you aren’t safe out there either. You can go back to your normal life. He won’t hurt you. I promise.” You knew that Shinsou was right and it was time to return to your normal life. Your arms wrap around him before you kiss his cheek thanking him. Before he can respond you run off to shower. He smiles to himself before calling out to you that he’s leaving and will see you later. After you shower you spend some time laying in bed texting Mina that you needed a girl’s day. She was in no way against it and told you she would meet you at her favorite coffee shop downtown. You changed into a cute skirt and one of Shinsou’s shirts that was a little baggy, that you tucked into the skirt. It was a casual and comfy outfit. You grabbed your purse and your phone before leaving the comfort of Shinsou’s apartment.

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

“Y/N!” Mina had trapped you in her hug eliciting a laugh from you. She pulled away and grabbed your face looking you over for any sign or marks that you could have possibly obtained from Bakugou. “You’re okay right?”

“Yes Mina. I’m… I’m not really that okay. I’m still coping with Bakugou using me, cheating on me, just overall destroying me. I’m mad at myself for trusting him for as long as I had.” You leaned your head into Mina’s hand feeling shitty once again. Mina pinched the cheek against her palm causing you to groan in slight pain. She looked sad; she was sad. She cared so much about you and it broke her heart knowing that you were still suffering. She was still missing details of what happened, but she was able to piece some things together after Bakugou drunk called her apologizing for what he had done to you. She was sick to her stomach and wanted nothing more than to call you and apologize herself. “I’m so sorry that I wasn’t there for you.”

“Mina you didn’t do anything wrong. I’m a big girl, I’ll be okay. And I haven’t been dealing with it alone. I’ve been staying at Shinsou’s.” That once sad look was quick to change into one of cat like curiosity. You had said the magic words.

“Shinsou hm.” You shoved Mina as the two of you entered the shop to actually get coffee. “I NEED ALL THE DETAILS.”

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

“Bakugou you can’t be serious.” Kirishima had been following Bakugou after they ended an all-nighter at work. Bakugou was ignoring Kirishima while heading to his destination. He had gotten a text from Kaminari that you were meeting with Mina. Kaminari hadn’t meant to send that information, he didn’t even remember sending it until Kirishima called him screaming about it. Bakugou already made up his mind, he needed to see you. To tell you how much he fucked up. He needed you back, for you to understand how much he loved you. He regretted everything he had said, he had done. Kirishima had tried to talk some sense into him but he failed. Bakugou thought what he was doing was right and stopping him meant nothing. No one gets in his way.

“Mina wait up you are walking to fast.” Mina had run ahead after seeing something in the widow of a shop that she thought would look amazing on you. You had to stop and let a few cars pass before trying to cross to meet your overly excited friend. The moment your foot moved forward your arm was yanked backward. You gasped before trying to pull it away from whoever grabbed you. As you turned to free yourself you came face to face with something worse than a stranger harassing you. Bakugou’s piercing red eyes were staring into yours, a jolt of fear rushed through you causing hair to stand up and your muscles to tense. People walked by with curiosity since neither of you tried hard to hide your identity. What was ground zero doing with Hero/Name? You didn’t care what random people on the streets were saying or thinking. What mattered right now was getting the hell away him. You yanked harder but his grip just tightened.

“Please, Y/n I need to talk to you.” His voice came out pleading. He was begging you to stay and listen but every fiber in your body told you to run or fight. You let your arm go limp like you were giving in. “Thank you.”

Bakugou smiled but that was literally smacked off his face when you swung your free arm back before delivering a swift punch. Bakugou grunted in pain letting you go so he could touch his hand to his nose. You hadn’t meant to hit him that hard but technically he shouldn’t have touched you, so it was justified. “Y/N!”

“Don’t Bakugou!” Bakugou had reached for you again while Kirishima ran at him trying to prevent this from escalating. Mina had realized what was going on by now and was running toward you. Her and Kirishima were trying to prevent exactly what was about to happen. Bakugou caught you before you could run. His hands held your arms tightly, the fingers digging aggressively into them. You could feel how hot they were, and you were scared that he would use his quirk. You didn’t want to show fear to him. Instead you mustered up a face of pure disgust. “You don’t get to touch me. LET GO OF ME!”

“Will you shut the hell up for a fucking second. I just wanted to talk to you. You disappeared and I had no idea where you went, and I was worried believe it or not. I’ve been kicking my own ass over the shit I said to you.” You stood there letting a man who cheated on you, a man who used you and hurt you, tell you that he was worried that he was regretful. He held you like you owed him this. That was all bullshit. Your shoulders shook as you dropped your head biting back tears that you felt he didn’t deserve. “I love you Y/n.”

The world had been moving just a moment ago and yet now everything seemed to stop. Time stood still but the words echoed. Mina and Kirishima faded out of existence leaving only you and Bakugou. If this was a romance movie it would be followed by you throwing your arms around Bakugou before kissing him. This was real life and you felt no positive emotions. Bakugou’s grip never loosened and his eyes remained staring intensely into your own. He wasn’t going to let you go till you responded. However, no matter how you responded if it wasn’t in favor to what he said then you may as well have remained silent. You felt your heart race from the stress he was forcing onto you. The regret reflected in the crimson orbs almost made you feel guilty. You had loved him. You had given him years of your love and he shattered in along with your trust. You had spend the week crying till your eyes were swollen, screaming until your lungs begged for a break, pleading with some other worldly being to help you get over this pain, and wondering what you could have done to prevent this from ever happening. To say you didn’t love Bakugou would be a lie. You loved him more than some stupid romance. You loved the way he growled in response when he was bothered, you loved the way he never gives up, you loved his honest laugh in which he truly thought something was funny or enjoyable, you loved the way he would kiss you and run his hand through your hair when he thought you were asleep. You loved and still love so much of him but as you look at him those feelings twist like gnarled tree branches and you feel yourself choking back vomit. When you closed your eyes you could picture a woman running her hands along Bakugou’s exposed body, you could hear them panting and moaning, you could hear the secretive whispers, and you could smell the sweet and salty after sex scent they would leave behind. These things were what you dealt with, they hallucinations that haunted you after his cruel revelation. The cheating wasn’t the only thing haunting you. His hands holding you against your will, his teeth biting into you with no consent, and the fingers that entangled into your hair pulling with enough force to bruise. You had experienced fights before, but this was had been different, you were afraid and disgusted with that version of Bakugou. This Bakugou in front of you was the same one just using sad eyes and words of endearment to trap you so he could lock you up properly and punish you for leaving.

“Y/n… please say something.” The world was moving or at least is seemed like you were a part of the rotation once again. People were watching the two of you, but you didn’t notice. You couldn’t break eye contact. Your lips were pressed so tightly together that you were afraid if you tried to open them, they would be glued shut. A dry mouth and cracking lips prompted you to have to unseal your lips as your drying tongue attempted to rehydrate your lips. What could you say that would make any of this better? Was there anything that could even be said anymore. You wanted this to just stop but didn’t know how to make that happen.

“Pro hero Mind Control has everybody on edge with the news of this important somebody he’s been hiding from us.” The moment you heard Shinsou’s hero name the world was back to normal. Your eyes broke from Bakugou’s turning to look directly at the large screen across the street. Shinsou’s figure stood proudly on the screen before it changed to an interview. You watched the woman across from him ask questions. “So, who is this mystery person that you claim means the world to you. Someone so important that you have taken off a week of hero duties to be with them. “

You were the only person on the street watching this interview play. Mina’s voice once again crossed your ears as she yelled at Bakugou to let you go. Kirishima was going to grab his friend but stopped when you gasped. Bakugou had harshly shook you to return your attention to him. His eyes held a little anger and he seemed to have lost patience. “Y/n –“

“This person is someone I love deeply; someone I’d do anything for. I want her to know what love truly is. I love Y/n L/n. Many of you know her as Hero/name…” The rest of the words faded off as you cried. Bakugou had you at the brink of them but hearing this message broadcast to the world had them freely spilling over. A laugh broke beyond your splitting lips. Your fingers dug into Bakugou’s hands yanking them off you. He looked co conflicted, anger and fear blended. You didn’t care about what he was feeling because you finally felt like something was okay. Your hands covered your mouth as you tried so badly not to squeal. You felt the happiness fade as your wrist was trapped in Bakugou’s grip. He wasn’t going to let you go without a proper answer especially now that the world knew what Shinsou thought of you. “Bakugou please let go of me. This… this is crazy. You need to let me go because I… I’m letting you go.”

Bakugou watched you pull your wrist free. He watched you look up at the screen as it played the end of the interview. A smiling Shinsou stood on the screen giving you the confidence you needed. Bakugou wanted to let you leave but he couldn’t. When he looked at your smile, he couldn’t help remembering the times it was for him. You were his everything and now you were slipping from his fingers and into the arms of another man. You turned away from Bakugou smiling at Mina who was also shedding tears. Kirishima finally moved forward and caught his best friend’s arm. Bakugou looked back at Kirishima who mouthed for him to stop. He quickly looked back at you. You were now wrapped safely in Mina’s arms. The two of you sharing a moment that would live with you forever. He let his shoulders drop before turning around. He shoved off Kirishima’s arm before his hands found a home in his jacket pockets. He left you under the screen, now playing an advertisement for some useless product, hugging your best friend while crying over a happiness that you deserved. He walked away, one million regrets coursing through his veins. The one thing he wouldn’t regret was you.

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

“Where the hell are the rest of the guests.” You rolled your eyes while Momo held your face still. You could hear Mina bitching in the background about the missing members of your former class. She had made sure that everyone had been invited and was keeping tabs of who had arrived. You could hear Uraraka enter the room with an excited scream. She could see your refection in the large mirror in front of you. Mina grabbed onto the girl so they could be over excited together. You felt so much joy watching them feel this happy for you. Momo had been doing you hair and makeup for what felt like hours and you needed to get into the dress hidden behind the bag hanging on the door. You felt a million things; nervousness, excitement, utterly in love. Not once did you feel regret. You could never regret this. You were about to spend the rest of your life with the person that you loved and truly loved you. It had only been six months since the day you and Bakugou had the confrontation in the middle of a busy street, the same one that broadcast the life changing news.

“Y/n!” You turned after the third time your name was yelled. Mina was pouting holding up the dress. She had a shimmer in her eyes and you almost told her not to cry or she’d ruin her makeup. She’d just tell you to shut up. “Yes Mina.”

“It’s time.” All three girls in the room with you had that glossiness to their eyes as they watched you slip the dress on. It fit perfectly, like it was meant to. You were a different person as you stared at your reflection. This was something you had always dreamed about and here you were living a fantasy, but it wasn’t. It was reality. A knock on the door was followed by the voice of Sero. “Let’s get this show on the road ladies.”

The girls opened the door shoving through the waiting boys who were cackling until they saw you. Kaminari pretended to faint while Sero whistled. Both boys admired you and they honestly thought you looked beyond stunning. You were a single star in an almost pitch-black sky, you just needed to walk down an aisle to find another star so you wouldn’t be so lonely. The music started up and you nodded at your best friends. They smiled back leading the way to your destiny.

“Nervous?” Midoriya had whispered to Shinsou as he stood next to him. He looked over the crowd or friends and former classmates. They all watched with bated breath. You were the star of this event. Of course, Shinsou was nervous. He was marrying the girl of his dreams, the person that gave him purpose. Shinsou watched and when you arrived at the end of the aisle, he felt everything disappear. The guests were gone, his friends gone, the whole world meant nothing. It was black and you were the only light he could see. The way your hair was styled held together by pins and clips hidden underneath a white veil. You were a mystery that he already knew everything about. Like a child who still waited for gifts on Christmas but knew Santa wasn’t real. The way your skin shimmered like rare and brilliant gemstones made Shinsou feel like he wasn’t worthy. Your dress moved so smoothly around and against every curve and bump your body had. Your body made the dress gorgeous, gave it value. He couldn’t see your eyes behind the veil, but he could imagine them. They held stars in them, creating galaxies that he had gotten lost in so many times. Your eyes had depth to them, they told a story and its cliché but its his favorite story. Shinsou hadn’t realized he was crying until your hand gently touched his cheek. Your veil had been flipped over your head revealing your own tears. Shinsou leaned into your touch his own hand moving to cup your face as well. If it hadn’t been for the vows, he would have kissed you right then. You both shared a silent moment of unconditional love before the wedding continued.

The vows could have been skipped because anything you both had to say then you had already said before. No words could ever truly describe how you felt about each other because it was more than just words. Your relationship was based on actions, words, looks, gestures; everything and anything you both did for and around the other mattered as an expression of love. He had tried so hard to make up for everything you had to suffer, and he knew that you might have moments where you questioned him, but he always made sure to have answers or words of reassurance. He never wanted to hurt you and he swore on his life that he wouldn’t.

“I do.” You had spoken the binding words and Shinsou followed. The kiss was simple and yet it held so much meaning. It meant more than the rings. It was something Shinsou would never forget. Everyone cheered and some people cried. Mina was holding onto Uraraka both girls sobbing, Midoriya squeezed Shinsou’s shoulder giving him a thumbs up while his own ducts betrayed him.

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

“You look so god damn beautiful.” A drunk Kaminari was hanging off you while you chatted away with guests. Mina yanked him off scolding him for his behavior before shooing him away. You laughed not minding at all. While you stood amongst friends who showered you with congratulations and compliments, Shinsou stood leaning against one of the walls near the bar. He had watched you cherishing these moments. He turned when he heard a familiar voice enter his vicinity. He turned in time to see Kirishima and Bakugou walking toward you. He was quick to make his way back to your side in case of any bad blood. Bakugou scoffed when Shinsou appeared but didn’t give him any attention. You smiled at the blonde and red head. Kirishima told you how happy he was for you before leaving the three of you alone.

“Are you happy?”

“Yes.” It was the simplest exchange you had ever had with Bakugou, but it meant a lot to you both. He needed to know that you had finally found the love and happiness you desired and deserved. You needed to know that he was able to let you go without fight. He nodded and hugged you whispering his congratulations. You thanked him before Momo’s voice came over the speakers announcing the first dance starting. Shinsou waved you to the dance floor promising to join you in a moment. He waited for you to leave before looking at Bakugou. Bakugou waited for a threat or some kind of scolding but nothing came. Shinsou remained silent. Bakugou took this opportunity to speak.

“Thank you for taking care of her. I can tell you make her happy and that’s what really matters.” Shinsou still remained silent and Bakugou continued. “I do have a question though. Y/n said I had been cheating and in an angry moment I basically said I was even though I hadn’t done so. Shitty hair told me you told her you had seen me with some woman. I don’t remember going to that restaurant with anyone other than coworkers or interviewers.”

“I lied.” Bakugou stood there frozen with wide eyes. He slowly turned to catch a glimpse of Shinsou’s smirk and a slight darkness behind his eyes. “I lied to Y/n about seeing you with some broad. I knew she would believe me, and I had my doubts about your faithfulness. I should be thanking you for verifying my lie. You made a single lie into an irrefutable truth all because you wanted to hurt her”

Shinsou walked away heading toward you. He never spared Bakugou a second glance as he grabbed your hands kissing them. You giggled before the music began. Bakugou stood with Shinsou’s reveal on his shoulders. In the end he was the one who destroyed your trust but Shinsou admitted to planting the seed of doubt. But all that mattered now was your happiness, right?

[vaindumbass]

The ministry is good for one (1) thing... getting Tonks a date

‘Why-’ Tonks says to the head that is currently sticking out of her fireplace, ‘Why did you ask me for this job.’

Charlie doesn’t even hesitate before answering. ‘Because you speak French fluently, and because you love me and therefore couldn’t say no.’

Mentally, Tonks curses out the Black family and their fucked up traditions. Why French, of all things? Then she corrects herself and blames her mother instead, for keeping this particular tradition. Couldn’t she have gone hunting when she was ten, instead? Bella always thought that was great fun.

Out loud, she replies. ‘I could’ve said no. If I wanted to.’

‘So you want to do this? Good to hear! You can always thank me later, a gift basket would be nice-’

Tonks scoffs at Charlie’s way too wide grin, a laugh threatening to crack out on her face too. ‘You know what, Charlie?’

‘What?’ he says, smugly, as if he’s won.

‘You weren’t completely wrong. I couldn’t have said no.’

‘I know.’

‘You were wrong about one thing, though.’

The fire crackles as Charlie cocks his head. ‘Well?’

Tonks pulls her face into something sad and melancholic to the best of her ability, and looks dramatically into the distance. ‘I don’t love you.’

Charlie’s gasp is loud enough that Tonks almost fears that he’ll douse the flames, somehow. ‘How dare you! Was all this…. a lie?’ After he has stared morosely into the flames for a while, though, he asks: ‘But seriously, babe, what is it?’

The back of Tonks’ shoulders itches a little now that they aren’t joking anymore, and she feels a bit too closely scrutinized. ‘It’s not that bad, okay? You don’t have to look so worried.’

Charlie still looks worried.

‘It’s just- remember how you asked me so that I could translate what she would say?’

‘Sure.’

‘Well, since she’s here partially to improve her English, she told me that I wasn’t really needed.’

‘Okay.’ Charlie says, ‘And?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘You wouldn’t be bothered this much by that. I know you, can’t fool me.’

‘Okay so I may have-’

‘May have or you did?’

Tonks ignores him, words spilling out of her. ‘I may have spilled my coffee on her. And she’s so fucking pretty, Charlie, and confident, which I’m apparently attracted to?’

‘There we go,’ He mutters under his breath. Tonks isn’t done.

‘And she doesn’t sugarcoat stuff, you know? So logically I know that she means it when she says that it’s okay, and that she doesn’t mind me ruining her clothes, but what if she secretly hates me now?’

‘Mhm.’

‘She was perfectly kind, though, and have I mentioned how good-looking she is? Name is Fleur, by the way, and sure looks aren’t everything, I change mine on the daily, but the way she looks when she smiles… Only, there’s no excuse for me to stay around her, anymore, and now I’ll never see her again, and she’ll only remember me as that horrible person who ruined her day.’

Charlie’s laugh rings around the room, warm and comfortable, and some ash gets on the carpet when he finally decides to just step out of the fireplace. ‘I’m going to have to stop you there, babe. You’re not just here to speak the language of love-’ After these words, there’s a horrible eyebrow wiggle, and Tonks makes and even weirder face back, just because she can. ‘- but also to show her around!’

‘I don’t even work here anymore! It really is weird that you couldn’t find anyone else who speaks French. I mean- Sirius does?’

‘Yes,’ Charlie responds, while walking around in her house in that comfortable way of his, easily settling down on her couch, ‘because I know Sirius so much better than I know you.’

Tonks lifts up his legs so that there is some space for her to sit, and then keeps one hand curled around his ankle, the other gesturing wildly, almost hitting the lamp that stands near. ‘I don’t know! You both like animals, right?’

‘You know very well that Sirius has adopted a hippogriff. Now, if it’d been a dragon-’

‘Fair enough,’ Tonks says, because while she loves Charlie’s ranting there’s still one topic she’d like clarity on, ‘But still, aren’t there people who speak French and, like, actually work at the ministry?’

Charlie purses his lips. ‘Maybe. But while I am very aro ace I still have eyes and she’s indeed very pretty, and you are very single, so-’

He can’t even finish the sentence before Tonks has thrown a pillow at him. He throws one back, of course, and soon enough they’re two adults in a full-on pillow war, laughing up and until Tonks accidentally punches Charlie in the face.

She gets him some ice and then they just cuddle on the couch for a bit, legs intertwined, and as Charlie tells her about the proper way to clip a dragon’s toenails, she gets a feeling as if she might just be able to handle the whole Fleur thing.

~~~

Tonks is not able to handle the whole Fleur thing. 

They don’t spill their coffee again, they’re trying to be careful now, but she’s already confusing departments, and accidentally pressing all the buttons in the lift, which isn’t really appreciated by anyone.

Fleur just laughs at that. ‘How did you press all of them?’

‘I was-’ Tonks stammers, ‘I was trying to hold on to something so I wouldn’t fall.’

‘Why not hold on to me?’ Fleur asks, a thick French accent coating her words, and Tonks just stares for a while. Is this flirting? Is it a joke that Tonks is simply too dumb to get? Should they respond to this with ‘but then I wouldn’t have fallen for you’ and some finger guns?

Tonks only knows the answer to that last one (it’s ‘no’, in case that wasn’t clear). ‘It’s- erm- I mean-’

Fleur just smiles at them in a way that Tonks wishfully thinks might be flirtatious. Tonks is suddenly very glad blushes don’t really show up on their dark skin.

A voice calls out ‘Department of Magical Games and Sports’ and Tonks and Fleur get out, because this was the next part of the tour.

Fleur, her eyes lingering on the various posters hung on the walls, says, ‘Aren’t people here supposed to be impartial? This must be inefficient.’

‘For sure,’ Tonks says, never one to defend the ministry, ‘it’s all a bit shoddy, as if it’s taped together with duct tape.’ (They very carefully pronounce that last word. Who knows, maybe muggle knowledge will impress Fleur?)

‘Then why do you work for it?’

A laugh curls Tonks lips. ‘I don’t! Me and Moody, that’s my old mentor, have opened a sort of private detective office.’

They aren’t even walking through the corridor anymore. One quidditch poster (The Chudley Cannons) is slightly crinkled where Fleur’s shoulder is leaning on it. She throws a bit of her long blonde hair over her shoulder. ‘Then why are you giving me a tour here?’

With a bit of a crooked grin, Tonks answers: ‘Like I said, a bit shoddy.’

Tonks likes the fact that they’re talking now, likes it very much, and therefore they try to lean on the wall just as casually as Fleur does, but they miscalculate, and the ground suddenly comes at them with an alarming speed.

‘Watch out!’ Fleur says, from somewhere very, very close, a flowery smell suddenly surrounding them. One of Fleur’s arms is around their upper arm, the other one curled around their waist. Fleur is very warm. Coincidentally, so are Tonks’ cheeks.

They get up quickly, trying not to elbow Fleur, avoiding eye contact just a little bit. ‘When you said I could hold on to you, I didn’t think I’d need it this quickly.’

Fleur snorts. ‘I am not all too surprised, honestly.’

‘That’s fair,’ Tonks' heart is still beating wildly.

There’s a bit of a silence, and Tonks wrecks their brain for something to talk about. They don’t want this to be over just yet. Luckily, Fleur speaks up.

‘How is being a metamorphmagus? I am part-Veela, and I know other magical beings are immune for that, but I do not know much more. What do you change most often?’

‘My hair,’ Tonks laughs, raking a hand through it (short and a deep blue today), ‘It’s partly apart from my body, in a way, so it takes a bit more effort to change, but once it’s a different colour it stays that way without any effort.’

Fleur cocks her head. ‘It takes effort to change?’

‘For sure. Not all that much, but if I change too much for too long I get a headache. I would never change my skin tone, but if I did I’d get really grouchy, most probably. Oh! And I sometimes change my nose and such as a party trick.’

‘Sounds fun,’ Fleur says, a smile playing on her lips. Tonks seriously considers changing their nose into the one of that squid in the cartoon Hermione showed her, before realizing that that wouldn’t impress Fleur, but rather the opposite.

‘It is! But I get tired if I do it too much. That’s also why, on days that gender is-’ Tonks makes a vague hand gesture, ‘- I sometimes wear a binder, because while I can make my chest flatter, sometimes I’ll be concentrating on some work and suddenly, bam!’ They mimick an explosion in front of their chest, pushing their hands forward.

Fleur snickers. ‘Poor you.´ That sounds like the end of the conversation, but Tonks has finally had enough time to get their brain to work again, and they’ve come up with a new topic.

‘So, what are you here for?’

‘Did you not get that information?’ (Tonks had never said it was a good topic)

‘No, I did, but I thought you might be able to explain it better?’

‘Oh.’ Fleur says, ‘well, I am looking into the practical applications of magic, but specifically on magical creatures. Dragons, for example, can be lured to sleep with a sleeping charm, but can resist most hexes without any effort.

‘Giants, who can also resist hexes, can easily resist a sleeping charm, but curses can seriously harm them, and that’s already fascinating, but I’m going to look into what effects other kinds of magic have, outside of wizardry, starting with Veela magic, because I happen to possess that, and that's not even talking about how that magic works. Only female Veela have any sort of non-wixard magical power, but the magic is not stored in the uturus as one might think, because I do not have one, but still have magic. How does the magic know that?’

Fleur had been talking slowly and deliberately ever since Tonks had met her, as if she was weighing the words, remembering the pronunciation, but now she talks faster, a flush on her cheeks.

‘But I'm getting of topic. I will mostly work with stuff like: why does Veela magic affect unicorns but not dragons? Why does it affect giants but not metamorphmagi? And if it doesn’t affect metamorphmagi, then why do you still get so flustered?’

‘I-’ Tonks says, ‘Erm-’

‘Do not worry,’ Fleur says, smiling ever-so-slightly, ‘I think I know the answer. Would you like to go on a date with me?’

Honestly, Tonks didn’t think a dingy corner lined with quidditch posters could ever be romantic, but Fleur makes it work, with the soft lighting on her cheek, and that fucking gorgeous smile on her lips. ‘Yes,’ they answer (was there ever another option?), ‘I’d like that very much.’

In a sudden rush of courage (what are they, a gryffindor?) they ask: ‘Can I kiss you?’

Fleur nods, and they discover that yes, Fleur’s smile tastes as wonderful as it looks.

[zodiyack]

Happy Valentines Day, Jerk-face

Pairing: Enoch O’Connor x reader

Warnings: Slight angst, fluff

Note for this: Y/N’S PECULIARITY! 

- similar to a fey, minus the horns and she can hide her wings

- pretty much can live forever and outside of a loop, as long as she doesn’t use her peculiarity outside of loops

Taglist: That one anon-

masterlist

Jake introduced his best friend Y/n to the children and Miss Peregrine when she followed him and the girls through the loop. He had no idea that she was a peculiar until that happened, so it came as a shock to him and to the group. They were only expecting Jake, but a girl to come following him?

Enoch and her got along...okay at the beginning. She was eager to stretch out her wings, amazing the group plus Jake as well, and flew past Enoch’s window. He and Olive were just simply trying to observe the creations he made, but when shadows of wings were being cast over the table, they couldn’t help but look outside. That’s when he swore he fell in love.

She was free. Or, at least that’s how he would describe how she looked. As for Y/n? She fell head over heels for him when he sent her creations every day. He commanded them to bring her new objects, and they made her heart swoon. It honestly made him happy that she wasn’t freaked out by the moving parts and gadgets.

Today, however, was not their day. Jake brought her to visit the group again, seeing as how she had to leave to visit his family, and Enoch was in one of his moods. Jake first greeted Enoch with Y/n, but he agreed with her once Enoch turned his foot and stomped up the stairs.

“What’s his deal?”

“I don’t freaking know. Just- I’ll go talk to him...okay? Thank you for bringing me Jake.” She sighed and walked up the stairs, completely missing Jake’s hand that held up waiting for a high-five.

“Yeah... No problemmmm... I’ll just go now.” Jake stood there awkwardly for a few seconds, itching the back of his neck and walking to the backyard.

Many knocks on the door later, Enoch finally let Y/n in.

“What is it?” His beautiful accent filled her ears. She smiled upon hearing it and stopped for a few seconds. Enoch raised an eyebrow and snapped her out of her odd zoning out moment. “Y/n. What. Do. You. Want?”

His attitude did the trick, causing her to frown and scrunch her eyebrows. “Enoch O’Connor. Why are you so grouchy? I came here to see you and the first thing you do is make a face and walk away. No hugs? No ‘I missed you’s? This isn’t fair to me either.”

“What did you expect? Me to just suddenly be all clingy now that you’re back? And in front of Portman? Please.”

She squinted when her draw dropped. A huffing noise left her mouth before she walked back down the stairs. Enoch, as always, paid no mind to it and continued working. He did miss her, truly he did, but shouldn’t she know that already?

Y/n raced down the stairs and out to the backyard, running into Miss Peregrine on accident. The older woman noticed the distressed and saddened aura of the peculiar. She pulled her to the side and turned to the children playing in front of her.

“What’s wrong my dear?” she whispered out of the side of her mouth.

“Enoch.”

Alma grabbed her pipe and tutted quietly. She knew of Enoch’s odd ways of showing affection, who didn’t? But this was a time she had a feeling would come. “I’ll deal with it. You go have fun with the others, it is a holiday in the outside world, is it not?”

“Valentines Day... And I don’t even have my Valentine...” Y/n looked down at the ground for a few seconds. Although, it seemed more entertaining than crying about her boyfriend, she still needed a stronger distraction. Her eyes flicked up to the other peculiars, their activities suddenly becoming more interesting. “Thank you Miss P.”

“Of course Y/n. Now, I’m sure you’d love to get some air in those wings of yours.”

“Indeed.” Y/n smiled and jumped, her wings opening and catching air before she hit the ground. Now in midair, she flew upwards a bit more, then flying over to the tree Emma said the squirrel usually fell out of. Maybe the squirrel would make some nice company. After all, it couldn’t break her heart like some boys with confusing feelings.

. . .

“Enoch?” Miss Peregrine opened the door. “I understand you and Y/n have some...trouble, currently?”

Enoch looked up at the mention of his lover, looking to the side when he realized what the confrontation was about. “Yes, Miss Peregrine, but how did you find out? And why are you confronting me about it?”

“Enoch. I don’t know if you understand how much you’ve hurt the poor girl. For example, when I asked her to go play with the other kids, she decided to go fly over to the tree and sit with the squirrel rather than with the others.”

“Some people just don’t like social situations.”

“But Y/n does. You’ve met her, you know her, you’re involved with her romantically, you of all people should know how much she loves all of you. Do you really believe she would ignore the rest of them?”

The boy looked back down, admitting his defeat. Not even his emotions could fight this one. Alma smiled a half smile upon this.

“You love her. Am I wrong?”

“N-no ma’am, you’re correct.”

She pulled out a small bouquet of Y/n’s favorite flowers. She got them when Jake called, knowing that the chance of something going wrong was more than likely. Miss Peregrine handed them to Enoch and smiled politely.

“Give those to her. Apologize. Tell her how you really feel. Don’t shut her out, do you understand me?”

Enoch picked up the flowers and smiled himself. It was small and shy smile, but it was showing that he knew. “Yes, I understand you, loud and clear. Thank you Miss Peregrine.”

“Of course, my boy.”

. . .

“Y/n?” Enoch stood at the base of the tree, hiding the flowers well and keeping the smile on his face as invisible as possible. “I, uh... I wanna say something.”

A few flutters sounded before Y/n dropped from the tree. She came down so elegantly, not needing to move her wings or fall super fast. It was so flawless. Enoch admired that about her.

“What is it Enoch?”

He flinched at the tone of her voice when she said his name. Sadly, he knew he deserved it. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have acted that way. I should’ve told you how much I missed you and I should’ve done something. I’m super sorry... Maybe, after you forgive me, you could be my valentine?”

Y/n was confused at his apology, but it all clicked into place when he pulled the flowers from behind his back. Her eyes widened and her mouth opened a little bit. The reaction wasn’t even finished. She jumped into his arms and kissed him hard on the lips, so hard- he dropped the flowers in surprise. They fell backwards, or rather Enoch fell and Y/n fell with him, and broke their kiss with giggles.

“Do you really mean it?”

“Of course, Y/n/n. Did you think I’d lie about that? I love you more than anything and I really did miss you like crazy... I think that’s why I was so ru-”

She kissed him once more, interrupting him and spreading a pink haze among his cheeks. “Happy Valentines Day, Jerk-Face.”

[secret-diary-of-an-fa]

God of War (PS4) Review: Kratos’ Postal Grief Beard Versus Norse Mythology

Once upon a time, a man was born by the name of Cory Barlog and thus a coin was flipped. Would he become a videogame developer or would he take up guarding the Mines of Moria by pulling wizards into a precipice? Those really are the only two options with a name like Barlog. Anyway, apparently the Mines of Moria were a bit of a commute, so the world gained a talented Auteur developer with a unique vision for a game series about going postal in ancient Greece. Fast-foward a number of years specifically calculated to make you feel old and ancient Greece is a distant memory. Norse mythology is where all the cool kids hang out nowadays, and that’s where we’re going in today’s review.

As you might have guessed, I’ve just finished playing God of War (PS4), which is fun to say because it rhymes. It’s a very good game that should be a very bad game. When considering modern media artefacts, I’m often prompted to ask the question ‘what went so wrong?’, but this may be the first time I’ve had to ask the question ‘what went so right?’.

Let me explain: God of War 4 (I don’t care that they don’t put the number on the box art, that’s what it fucking is) makes a single, monumentally stupid creative decision that should ruin the entire enterprise, but doesn’t. And that creative decision was- wait for it- a stab at maturity.

The last time we saw Kratos- the world’s angriest mythical being- he was finishing his battle with the Greek gods in God of War 3. There was a moment in that game which, to me, typified what was so great about the series. If I recall the sequence of events correctly, you kill your way through an ocean of expendable goons and critters who are just trying to defend their home on Mount Olympus, dripping with blood and screaming furiously, then wander into the bedroom of one of ancient Greece’s sauciest goddesses and play a sex minigame that you win by fucking her so well that her handmaids orgasm too. Then you toddle outside again and, head cleared, solve an incredibly complex and cerebral puzzle involving non-Euclidean geometry and perspective manipulation that takes bloody ages. That, in a nutshell, was the core identity of the original God of War: a gleefully unrestrained and immature approach to sex and violence coupled with a grouchy willingness to make unsuspecting players feel like fucking idiots for no reason whatsoever. It was awesome. In contrast, God of War 4 picks up many, many years later with Kratos hiding out in Midgard of the Norse mythos and, for once, he hasn’t got a nark on and he’s not trying to stick his cock in someone with cartoonishly huge knockers. He’s just sad because his missus has passed away, leaving him and their young, impressionable son alone in a big, scary world full of trolls and ginger psychopaths. ‘Sad’ isn’t a completely new emotion for Kratos, but, up until this point, he was usually sad in a way that resulted in five hundred people getting their spines broken in a very colourful manner. Now he just wants to cremate the remains of the woman he loved and carry her ashes to the tallest peak in the nine realms so he can scatter her in accordance with her final wishes. And that’s what he does, with son- Atreus- in tow. It’s a twenty-plus hour game in which the objective is very simply to honour someone’s preferred funeral rites- nothing more, nothing less. It’s very modest by Kratos usual standards. Remember that his stated goal in the previous game was to punch freakin’ Zeus so hard that his face would go all concave and then repeatedly stamp on his corpse.

We never actually find out much about what Kratos was up to between games or how he met his wife. However, he’s a bit thiccer than in previous instalments and seems to have lost the use of the ‘jump’ button outside of context-sensitive environments. On that evidence, I choose to believe he’s been running a small but successful family restaurant called ‘Kratos’ Potatoes’ and enjoying it all a bit much. And why not? He beat up Zeus- if he just wants to create and sample homely yet exotic Greco-Norse fusion cuisine while growing a ridiculous straggly dad-beard, I say let him crack on. Actually, is it a ‘dad beard’ or is it a ‘grief beard’? I think they send them to videogame characters in the post whenever a loved one dies so they can signal to the world how sad they are through the medium of angsty facial hair. But where was? Oh yeah: cracking on with it.

Y’see this is where the plot comes in: the Norse gods won’t let Kratos crack on. They’re determined to make him bow before Odin- especially Baldur, who is way too invested in having a fight with Kratos for reasons that won’t become apparent until very late in the game. They just keep turning up and trying to break Kratos and his increasingly like-him-but-not-as-good-at-it son Atreus. This time around, our heroes commit heinous acts of violence to defend themselves, not enact revenge, as they travel, inexorably, to the top of a lonely mountain through landscapes of stunning natural beauty and many, many hostile creatures.

Of course, Kratos taking his son on a hiking holiday with added troll-murder and the occasional slap-fight with Norse mythology’s biggest killjoys doesn’t sound as interesting as the original games. After all, those were basically a production of Kill Bill in which the part of Bill was played by a guy with the power to summon lightning bolts and access to a seemingly unstoppable army of monsters and demigods. The ‘fun factor’ even seems to have taken another downgrade, in that Kratos no longer operates with the entertainingly demented passion of the insane: he has been tempered by time and love and managed to turn himself into a paragon of serious self control. So why is God of War 4 so bloody good? Partly, I suspect, the answer lies in the constantly evolving relationship between Kratos and Atreus, which gives the story an unbelievable amount of heart and always manages to feel very organic. Kratos never learned how to be a parent, and we essentially watch him do it in real time, forming a bond with his son that seems impossible at the start of the game and inevitable by the end. Partly, the games greatness lies in the characters you meet along the way, who range from bickering dwarves to talking, decapitated heads who prattle on like laid-back tour-guides. Partly, it’s in the beautiful, epic landscapes that make the journey across the Realms to the highest peak feel epic and significant, even while it is small and personal.

But a videogame is nothing without gameplay, and it is here that God of War 4 really shines. I loved the original God of War trilogy (especially the third instalment), but I rarely felt like I was playing as, y’know, a god of war. Kratos might not be an uncontrollable whirlwind of fury any more, but he feels truly powerful for the first time in the ongoing series. In fights, every punch feels like it could crack stone; every axe-throw like it could rend the sky; every chain-whip like it could legitimately start a forest-fire. Out of combat, Kratos moves around the environment with the stolid grace of a man who knows his movements are inevitable; irresistible; an imposition on the environment that can’t be denied. You climb and complete elaborate, complex traversals knowing that the satisfaction you feel isn’t just the satisfaction of finding the correct route or solving an obstacle, but the satisfaction of a being forcing his way through a landscape that resists him at every turn but cannot stop him. The puzzles- of which there are many- strike the perfect balance between conceptual trickiness and ease of execution to remind you that Kratos is smart as well as determined; that his mind is as indomitable as his body. Then there are the little touches involving heaving huge stone pillars and similar unnecessarily over-the-top efforts. In short, the gameplay is interwoven with who Kratos is- with what he is in way that seems completely unprecedented. Even the RPG elements feel  appropriate: they reflect the protagonist’s growing confidence in a skillet he hasn’t used in a long, long time.

Do I miss the uniquely juvenile, over the top identity of the old games? Absolutely: I’m a great fan of gratuitous gore and scantily clad women with big fuck-off swords. Usually, I find the desire for maturity in games to be a silly, pretentious trend that foolishly eschews anything obviously ‘fun’ for no reason other than courting the respect of people whose respect isn’t worth having. But I don’t think that’s what’s going on here- at least, not entirely. The developers of the God of War games are clearly artisans and craftsmen of extreme talent: their attention to detail is superb and their ability to weave a good tale from a simple premise is actually a little daunting for someone who considers himself a bloody good story-teller. It’s worth remembering that the de facto head of the studio, Barlog, became a father himself before commencing work on this game about a father learning to bond with his son. It feels personal and meant because it is. Other games might reach for superficially mature themes like family and redemption for altogether cynical reasons. God of War 4 does it because such thoughts are clearly much on the developer’s mind. I asked already ‘Do I miss the identity of the old games?’ and the answer is still yes. But that question deserves a follow-up: am I willing to embrace the identity of this new, quieter God of War anyway? And yes, yes I am.

But if we could have a few more women with enormous knockers and Kratos going properly batshit just once or twice in the next sequel, that would also be welcome. I mean, let’s try to strike a balance here, people, for pity’s sake.

[hopevalley]

Season 8, Episode 11: Changing Times

Well, as it turns out, my second Covid vaccine kicked me down hard. After sleeping for quite a long time, though, I’m tired of sleeping and ready to try and get this write-up done.

Surprisingly, or...perhaps not so surprisingly, I don’t think I have that much to say about last night’s episode. I think we’re just too close to the finale for me to feel “safe” in guessing/hoping for anything in particular.

Let’s hit up the plot points like before:

The Triangle

Carson & Faith

Rosemary’s Purpose

School District Problems

Jesse’s Disappearance 

The Triangle

I’m probably one of the few people who liked Nathan who felt like the whole beginning scene was super weird and uncomfortable. Homegirl held his hand for one second in the last episode and now she’s going to warm his serge by the fire (while he just stands there awkwardly??? He could have done that himself while she got him some tea or something idk) and then dress him???

I think we’re meant to see that as her going back to...I don’t know...old habits die hard or something? But she was barely married for any time at all and it’s been three years since Jack died. No way would she be so far into those old habits that she’d fall back into them with Nathan lmao.

Like, it’d be a REALLY GOOD PLOT for a character who had been married for years and lost a spouse (cough Abigail cough) but considering the circumstances it felt like a cheesy fanfiction! I wanted to like it, but I just felt weird about it. Tonal whiplash out the wazoo.

Especially when we had to watch Lucas drive by and see Nathan’s horse at Elizabeth’s house. 

Lucas sadly watching Elizabeth talk to Nathan was also awkward, but at least it gave him the courage he needed to break things off with her.

You’d think I’d have a lot to say about the triangle, but I’m saving all of that for some kind of...post-season discussion. Who is she going to pick? Nathan seems like the most logical writing choice, but it could yet be Lucas. I genuinely don’t care who she chooses so long as she picks someone.

--

Carson & Faith

I like to hate on these two a lot, so you might be surprised to know that I’m enjoying their storyline. I’ve criticized this series over and over for never bothering to portray realistic relationships and one thing I can say about Faith and Carson this season is that things actually feel...plausible.

I also appreciate how they try to tie Carson into the town a bit more: he talks to Henry and Minnie and even Lucas trying to figure things out! It makes perfect sense to me; how do you choose between someone you care about/the potential life you could make with them, and a career that you’re really and truly passionate about?

This is the most interesting Carson has been since Season 5.

Anyway, the pudding scene was genuinely funny, and a great way to break up the stress that I’m sure we were all feeling about his impending proposal. Faith’s reaction to thinking he might propose was...pretty telling. I really wish they hadn’t saved so many dangling plotlines to solve in the final episode, though. I was hoping Faith and Carson’s storyline would be fully figured out in the penultimate episode so that we could let him go (or whatever) in the season finale. It just seems to me like it would be a good, smooth ending for them.

Also, for what it’s worth, they tried doing this kind of plot with Frank in Season 5, but it was rushed and pulled out of thin air; he’d never shown an inclination toward pastoring toward dying children in the past and it was clear that they just needed to write him off the show. With Carson, this sort of plotline works VERY well; he was a surgeon, and he was passionate about it, but that passion took a hit when his wife needed surgery and she died on the table under his hands. He’s had some time to move on from that and process his feelings, so it makes sense that he’d find that passion again. I just wanted to point this out because it’s interesting how well it works for Carson and how...well, not-well it worked with Frank. I really felt like with Frank, it was just a storyline that could have been given to anyone with the same success rate, whereas with Carson they took a look at the character and what we already know of him, and built the storyline specifically for him. That’s good writing, babes!

Anyway, Carson trying to propose in the vague hope that Faith will come with him, even knowing she doesn’t want to leave Hope Valley, is pretty manipulative and awful, but it really goes a long way toward making his character feel like an actual person. Like yeah, he does actually want the best of both worlds. Do you blame him?

--

Rosemary’s Purpose

I know a lot of people are really into this storyline but I found it boring. The only good part was when Lee called the other desk in his office “hers.” Everything else just felt like a bit too much to come to the conclusion that she should run a paper. We already had her “advice” column in the paper and it was...amusing while it lasted, but eh. I just don’t see good storylines coming for her from this angle, especially when they went the route of her finding out she wants to start the paper back up to share information with the town. Are we really going to trust Rosemary’s integrity when it comes to writing news stories, especially when MOST of the time the things she’ll be allowed to write about are, you know, who grew the biggest cabbage? It makes me dread the potential for Round Two of Nosy Rosie.

I dunno. I used to really like Rosemary but this season’s been pretty rough on her character. Good for you for wanting to find your passion career, but most of us work so that we can eat, not for a fun way to pass the time and stay busy. :/

--

School District Problems

Mr. Landis is right and Elizabeth is an idiot. Sure the school board is being assholes for no reason (as if they’d care if one blind child was sitting in a classroom in one western town lol), but Elizabeth’s really going to dismiss his concerns about how she can juggle the added work necessary to teach Angela while also keeping up with everyone else?

It sucks that Angela will get left out, but Elizabeth should be working with Mr. Landis to come up with a plan to teach Angela without sacrificing the education of her other students. Better yet, she could rely on her friends for advice. Like Rosemary.

Still no apology there...

Anyway, a projected 100 new kids? That’s outlandish. The only way that will happen is if they open a factory in Hope Valley, and even then it could take years. I MEAN, WHERE IS THE HOUSING GOING TO BE FOR ALL THE ADULTS THAT WOULD GIVE YOU A HUNDRED NEW STUDENTS LOL. I think we have to assume the plotlines are connected.

I also find it hard to believe the board would care about Elizabeth being certified to teach Angela. Where else is she going to get an education? It’s 1918 in the middle of almost nowhere???

This show drives me nuts with its attempt to be a “Frontier Show” while also shying away from the characters actually being stranded/cut off from society at large. You still had unlicensed teachers teaching in western towns in this time period because nobody cared!!!

ANYWAY, if Union City was like 3 miles away I could see them trying to combine schools. But it isn’t. So.

I dunno. I hate this plotline. I feel like they stole it from a better show (Road to Avonlea, where the bigger school was just a few miles away and it made sense to consider combining the schools for a better education system for the students as one-room schoolhouse teaching was proven to be less effective) but didn’t bother to consider any of the logistics of the storyline.

Maybe it’s my passion for education and history that makes me hate it, though. I know too much to find this storyline believable. I should also mention that I haven’t enjoyed Elizabeth’s role as teacher for a very long time. (I think they suck at writing Elizabeth as a teacher.)

I’m just not interested in wherever this is going to go because I can’t imagine it’ll have a lasting impact.

The only good thing I can say about the whole plotline is that I REALLY LIKED HOW BILL CAME OUT OF IT. I think he’s the only person who knows how to speak to Elizabeth. She struggles with blunt honesty at first, but ultimately tends to appreciate it, and that’s pretty much what she always gets with Bill. Also, the scene where he shuts her down didn’t make her look stupid, either (just worried/anxious), so I could appreciate it.

--

Jesse’s Disappearance

I couldn’t care less about this plotline if I tried. Jesse’s gone missing in the mountains before (was it last season? I don’t even remember because I didn’t give a damn about it then either) so this felt like a multi-reused plotline...for the same character, no less.

It’s also poorly implemented. Why doesn’t anyone else care about Jesse? Why is Clara pouring her heart out to Lee while her friends are failing to support her in the slightest? Why should any of us care when we know he’ll be fine?

It just feels so forced for the sake of drama, and it’s made 10x worse because there’s too much else going on at the same time.

Also, how convenient that they have to tell us how hard-working and dedicated Jesse is to his work to force this plot to even make sense... C’mon, he has never been a particularly dedicated to work. They just needed to explain why he would have left the car so that he could be “missing.”

Boring. I also don’t care that much about their “stolen” money.

The only good thing in all of this is seeing how soothing of a voice Lee actually has. 

--

The best parts of the episode:

Henry calling Florence “Flo” GOT ME. It was so surprisingly cute???

I love Bill, and he really came out of this episode looking great! Finally, it seems they’re done writing him as a grouchy old man who hates everyone! In this season (and particularly in this episode), he is allowed to be capable, smart, helpful, loyal, and in possession of a great deal of integrity. I couldn’t believe that guy tried to bribe the judge in town right off the bat lmao...but the way Bill handled it felt very in character—very reminiscent of him from S3 or 4. He never shuts things down immediately, preferring instead to get more information to use against his, erm...opponent. Should he need it, of course. I was really happy to see him written well in this episode.

HENRY’S LETTER FROM HIS SON. STARTS OFF WITH “DAD,” AND SAYS PS. I LOVE YOU AT THE BOTTOM. Good for Henry.

Fiona’s backstory! Finally, we get some FIONA LORE. Neat.

PUDDING HANDS CARSON. 

[imissjoongsmullet]

My Prince (1)

Pairing: Minghao x reader

Genre: fluff/(angst)

Summary: Life is not exactly easy being the royal gardeners’ daughter but at least it’s simple. When you’re suddenly called upon to serve as the prince’s personal servant, things get a little more than complicated, especially considering the secret history you and the prince share.

Part 2

Part 3

Warnings: general angstiness, a bit of a slow burn, very romantic, very soft, the fact that this will most likely become a long series cause I have no chill

Word Count: 3k

Author’s Note: this is a present for my sweet sweet baby @silverstonemanor you deserve the world, I hope you like it! She gave me the idea for this story a while ago. I would have posted stuff earlier but my extra self couldn’t stop and ran way too far with this whole idea. This was supposed to be a drabble and well, now it’ll probably become the longest thing I’ve ever written that isn’t a novel so yeah ^^” oopsie~

►

The sun was just peeking over the distant treetops when you entered the wide castle grounds with your parents, tool bag slung over your back. You didn’t mind waking up this early; you enjoyed watching the various shades of orange and pink roll over the sky like waves, until nothing was left but clear blue. Besides, in a few hours, the air would turn far too hot and humid for you to focus.

The royal gardens were massive. They’d seemed infinite as a child and even now, despite your position as gardener, you found yourself lost in them from time to time. You followed your parents to the place you’d left off the evening before: a long, narrow stretch of grass, flanked by vibrant tiger lilies on both sides. At the far end was a small, ornate pagoda, around which a thin body of water lay. It was a lily pond of your father’s own making.

“Start at the front,” your mother’s stern voice called from behind, “we need it perfect by noon.”

You did as you were told, getting on your knees in the damp grass, facing the flowers. They needed pruning, as well as weeding. There would be some sort of royal meeting held right here today and; naturally, the place should be spotless. You dug your fingers into the moist soil and pulled at the weeds haphazardly, eyes drifting to the sky more often than necessary. It was tedious work, being part of the royal gardeners but you’d never had much of a choice in the matter. Your parents had done it and the same was expected of you. It’s not like you minded it all that much; you just wondered sometimes whether there was something more exciting you could be doing with your life than fussing over the tiniest details of a garden so vast, the emperor would probably never even see half of it.

The distant neighing of a horse called your attention. Unthinking, you got up and jumped onto the raised platform of the pagoda, so you could see over the bushes of the garden. From the castle’s main entrance came about a dozen men on horses. They trod down the path that lead into an enormous forest. At the front of the procession was the emperor of Namin himself, his most trusted servant by his side. Your eyes went immediately to the horse behind them though; for that’s where the prince sat. The gold detailing on his robe glinted in the warm morning light as he silently followed his father.

“Hey!” your mother barked at you, “these weeds won’t disappear by themselves you know.”

You pulled your eyes away from the procession and hopped off the pagoda with a dull thump and a sigh. You wished you could join the people on their horses. You didn’t even care where they were headed; you just wanted to get out. You imagined adventures you’d have with the prince sometimes; it was a bit of a guilty pleasure and if anyone ever found out, you’d probably be banished from the grounds.

But the prince and you had been close once. You’d been only children but even then it had been scandalous. Servants weren’t allowed to interact with royals but, as the daughter of the palace gardeners you’d spent a fair amount of time on grounds, learning your parents’ craft. That’s how you’d first met him.

He’d been reading by himself under an orange tree when you’d found him, a young boy of seven. He’d seemed weary of you at first but in a matter of hours, the two of you would’ve seemed like best friends to strangers. You still remembered the way he’d smiled at you that first day when you said goodbye; as if he himself was shocked by how much fun he’d just had.

From then on, you’d been secret playmates. He’d find you in the rose garden, watching your parents treat the plants and steal you away for hours, playing hide and seek in the endless maze of greenery, until the sun went down and when you’d return, your parents were worried about where you’d been.

He hadn’t seemed much like a prince back then. You’d just known him as Minghao, your best friend. He’d been loud and wild and full of life, chasing you between trees and under bushes, not afraid to get completely covered in dirt. One time, you’d been teasing each other until finally, he’d pushed you into one of your father’s most prided fountains. You’d yanked him down with you, ruining the apparently-brand-new robes he was supposed to wear to a formal dinner with the ruler of a neighboring land called Yientan that evening. You hadn’t seen him in the following days and you’d felt extremely guilty but a week or so later, he’d jumped out from behind a tree and pulled you into another afternoon of carefree playing.

You were eight years old when you finally got caught. To make matters worse, it had been the empress herself who’d found you, hidden behind a banquet table at one of the royal summer festivals, laughing a bit too loud. You’d never forget the look in her eyes — hard as stone at her own son — as well as Minghao’s — positively terrified. She’d had the guards escort him back to his chambers assuring him there’d be punishment later. She would have banished you right then and there in front of everyone if it hadn’t been for your parents’ begging. They promised to have you start training twelve hours a day with them, to force all your focus on gardening so you wouldn’t have the energy to think about anything else.

You supposed you should be grateful. You would never have survived on your own outside the grounds should you have been banished.

After that, you barely ever saw Minghao and even when he was out in the gardens, you kept your distance. There were times when your eyes crossed and you’d share a look and a smile that reminded you of the way things once were. But even that didn’t last. Soon enough, Minghao grew up and you stopped seeing him as Minghao, the name replaced with ‘prince’, as others called him. It seemed to fit him more. By his fourteenth birthday, there wasn’t much left of the loud, wild, full-of-life boy you’d known. His back was straighter, his shoulders squared and his kind smile vanished. On the rare occasion your eyes did meet, his were cold like his mother’s and you just had to learn to live with that.

Because you knew your place now.

Yet, as you worked your way around the stretch of tiger lilies, your mind kept flitting to the prince. You couldn’t help it. You knew it was silly but, somehow, you still hoped you could return to how things were before.

You were a sweaty mess once the sun arrived high in the sky. Your hands hurt and your stomach was growling but your mother had told you not to take a break before the flowerbeds were in perfect condition. After that you’d still have to clean the pond, all before the clock struck three, when the meeting would take place. You were getting impatient and grouchy and when someone called your name you replied with a bit more attitude than you were allowed to.

“What now?” you groaned, turning around to see, not your parents, but a tall, thin woman in pristine, white and gold clothing. You nearly fell over into the flowers.

The woman didn’t seem fazed. “Come with me,” she ordered in a monotone voice.

You looked around for your parents and found them just as perplexed as you were. Hesitantly, you stood and followed the stranger through the garden. You knew by her clothes she must work at the castle but, as you had no idea of what went on on the inside, you couldn’t tell exactly who she was or what she wanted from you. You worried suddenly they’d somehow found out about your secret prince fantasies, which was a completely irrational thought but horrifying nonetheless.

You were taken through the main entrance, with its massive wooden doors and colorful flags — a gold dragon against a vivid blue backdrop. You'd been fantasizing about what lay behind them since before you could remember. More blue and gold flags? Statues of the royal family? Elaborate paintings or murals?

It was more than you could have dreamed of. The room was entirely bare, drawing the focus on the only the two things that mattered. The floor was a wood, so shiny you could see your face reflected in them, the gentle creak in them like a birdsong. The walls were painted a sky blue, decorated with gold, spindly tree branches. Their shine reflected onto the wood, lighting up the place beautifully.

You had no time to admire any of it. The tall woman’s stride was hasty and you could barely keep up. Tailing her through a small sliding door, you came upon a narrow hallway. You passed others in servant’s clothing: light colored, clean, silk robes. They billowed behind them gracefully as they shuffled past. It made you realize how much you stood out in your mud-stained tunic and trousers.

You ventured deeper into the castle, taking turns through sliding door after sliding door and you started wondering whether you’d ever find your way back outside, when suddenly, the stern woman turned around to face you. You were in a small room with a low table as its center piece. The woman motioned for you to sit and so you did, feeling your heartbeat quicken. What kind of punishment was in store for you here?

The woman took the seat opposite you at the little table, expression unwavering. “I’ve called you here because your services are required in the castle,” she said, sounding put off by the idea.

You could only stare at her in confusion. Why on earth would you be needed at the castle? Your parents did the odd job inside every now and again, mostly flower pieces for special events, but you’d never even been allowed in. Was this some kind of joke?

“Our royal prince’s personal servant has fallen ill,” she went on as if she couldn’t care less, “we need a temporary replacement.”

It took you a few moments to put two and two together.

“You mean me?” you let out a little louder than you’d meant to.

The woman raised her brows. “Believe me I would have chosen otherwise but as it is, you’re the only adequate servant on castle grounds available at the moment.”

Adequate, you thought perplexedly. That wasn’t really a term you’d ever use to describe yourself, let alone a term some crabby older woman would use to describe you.

“The position of any royal member’s personal servant has a set of very specific requirements. Age, gender, birth time,… I don’t expect you to know about it,” she sighed, quite literally looking down on you. “Skills can be taught,” she went on, rising and beckoning you to follow, “but unfortunately the alignment of the planets are beyond our control.”

She opened up a panel behind her, revealing a deep closet space filled to the brim with colorful fabrics. She pulled out a soft lilac robe, not unlike the ones you’d seen the other castle servants wear, and held it up to you, looking you up and down.

“This will do,” she said with a concerning lack of enthusiasm. She pulled out a bunch more similar robes and made a neat pile. “Come,” she ordered and left with the clothes.

All you could do was follow and try to process the ridiculous things you’d just been told. Perhaps you were just dreaming, you thought. Yeah, that had to be it.

You arrived in another bare room, this one large and rectangular. There were a couple of other servant girls, folding robes on the floor. They all rose upon seeing the older woman and bowed in silence. Then they noticed you and their eyes narrowed. You felt their stares stab at your already racing heart.

“Before we can begin your training you need to wash, child,” the woman said, laying down your new clothes, “I’ll be back in half an hour. Be ready," and with that, she left you standing there, completely in shock.

After awkwardly looking around the room for far too long to be socially acceptable, you plucked up the courage to ask for help. The young girls exchanged looks before reluctantly bringing you to the baths.

If you hadn't been so anxious it would've been the best bath you'd ever had but for all the luxurious oils and soaps to scrub yourself clean with, your brain was too preoccupied with everything that had just happened.

“I don’t understand,” you muttered when you were met with the older woman again, “I’m just a gardener.” You were shuffling after her in the narrow hallways, trying to wrap your head around things.

“Don’t be dramatic,” she answered simply, “it’s not befitting a royal servant. Besides, this is merely a temporary position. You’ll be back out with your tools in no time.”

Her name, you’d learned, was Tou Ma, or at least that what you were to call her. She was head keeper to the royal family, in charge of all female servants in the castle. Her face was long, with eyes like slits and cheekbones sharp as glass. You couldn’t tell how old she was from the heavy layers of powder she wore but supposed she must be older than your mother.

She spent the rest of the day attempting to cram an overload of information into your head. She taught you to bow ‘the proper way’, whatever that meant; apparently you’d been doing it wrong your entire life. She explained all the intricacies of etiquette, washing, folding, serving, dusting, pruning and a bunch of other things you’d probably forget by the next day. It was all so overwhelming that when it was finally over, the sun was setting and you were about ready to pass out.

“Now,” Tou Ma said, somehow still as fierce as she was at the beginning of the day, “the emperor and his son returned from their hunting trip approximately one hour ago. I suggest you don’t keep him waiting much longer.”

The words took the earth right out from under your feet.

“I have to see him?” you stammered, “now?”

Tou Ma looked unimpressed. “I’ve told you how he likes his tea,” she said, “don’t mess it up.”

You were one and all nerves as you approached the prince’s chambers. You nearly got lost on the way, the hundreds of hallways all blurring together after such a long day, but the entrance to his chamber was not easily missed. It was a heavy, wooden sliding door, it’s surface craved out, depicting a scene from a past war. It was imposing to say the least, with soldiers on horseback and a massive dragon in the sky, spewing fire. It did not manage to still your racing heart.

Taking a deep breath, you slid open the door.

There he was, the prince, sat in a blood red, upholstered chair at his desk, writing. He looked regal, you admitted, in his clean, silk robes and perfect hair; too beautiful to touch. He looked up at the sound of the door. His brown eyes fell on you and his lips parted in silence.

“Um,” you started awkwardly, which was already not the ‘proper’ way of serving tea, “I’ve brought you some tea.”

That’s when you noticed his brows furrow ever so slightly. Having forgotten everything Tou Ma had taught you just before, you walked over to the nearest surface — a narrow table against a wall — and set down the tray you’d been holding. You felt his eyes on you the entire time as you tried to remember how to prepare the beverage properly but when you were finally done after what seemed like forever, you found him hunched over his writing again.

“Okay,” you said softly, “it’s ready.”

He set down his pen and turned to you with a look that was impossible to read. The silence between you seemed to last forever and you felt your face go red hot. You noticed for the first time how tired he looked. He was seventeen, one year older than you, but the darkness under his eyes would suggest otherwise.

Part of you wanted to go nearer to him. You took a hesitant step forward but at once, you saw his eyes turn colder than you’d never seen them.

“You can leave,” he said suddenly, casting his eyes back down to his writing.

“Yes,” you stuttered, taking the emptied tray and hugging it to yourself, “of course.”

You stumbled backwards until you met the door, made an awkward bow and left the prince with a sinking feeling in your gut. You’d watched him change over the years from a distance, sure; but having him dismiss you so coolly when there was no one even around to see? Well, it hurt. Maybe part of you had hoped he’d act differently when it was just the two of you. Maybe you’d hoped he’d tell you all these years of iciness had been pretend for his parents. But clearly not.

In one day, your entire life had turned upside down and at its end, you were positive things hadn’t changed for the better.

Part 2