#and i just said “fuck it” and kept on coloring since the damage had already been done

[astralcat]

drew my mc skin (chopper in amuro's londobell outfit)

#one piece #mobile suit gundam #tony tony chopper #minecraft #i ended up coloring on the lines layer halfway through this #and i just said “fuck it” and kept on coloring since the damage had already been done #art #artists on tumblr

[ragingbookdragon]

He stared at her from his desk as she sat on his bed, playing a game on her phone; the screen occasionally flashed different colors across her face as she went back and forth between texting her friends, most likely Gaz and Soap, and her game. At one point, she shifted, laying flat on her stomach, her elbows pressed into the bed as she played, then she pushed her arms across his pillow and propped her chin on the cushion.

The show of comfort from her had a spur of irritation licking its way from his gut to his throat and before he could tell his mouth to shut the hell up, “I fucking hate it when you’re in my room,” came out.

Her eyes immediately met his, expression startled, starting to twist into hurt as she absorbed and processed what he had said to her. A pathetic and hurt, “What?” was all that managed to come out of her mouth and Ghost knew better than to say more, but even damage control wasn’t at the forefront of his mind, and since he’d already opened the door, he may as well walk through it.

He let out a heavy sigh and ran a hand down his face. “You’re always in my room. My room. Why are you always here?” he was a smart man; he knew how to articulate himself. “My room is the one place I go to get away from everything and everyone and somehow you’re always here. You never leave me alone.” He didn’t really mean to be as scathing as he was, but all the overwhelmingness of her finally came to a head. “Everywhere I go, you’re always there, stuck to me like fucking glue, and it’s ‘Lieutenant this,’ and Lieutenant that.’ Why can’t you just quit being so fucking clingy?” Ghost pinched his brow and heaved out another sigh, rubbing his eyes before he pulled his hand away and looked at her.

And he knew, just with one look, that he had fucked up more than he could ever think of trying to repair.

Her lips wobbled as she kept trying to purse them to keep herself from crying, but it wasn’t doing much as the tears were already tipping over the edge of her eyes and down her cheeks.

Ghost had never seen her cry before.

He realized how much he fucking hated seeing it.

Her eyes left his and he watched as a deadness replaced them, though the distraught was still evident as she whispered, “I’m sorry, Lieutenant Riley.” And clambered to her feet, dazedly sliding off his bed and heading for his door.

His mouth was open before he knew it, “Private, I didn’t—"

“I won’t bother you again unless it’s for work, I promise,” she said. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize I was being a bother, sir.”

He hated being called “sir” by anyone.

“Private, wait, I—”

“I just thought we were friends,” she whispered more to herself than to him, and shut the door behind her.

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader imagines #simon ghost riley x reader imagine #simon ghost riley imagines #simon ghost riley imagine #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x reader imagines #simon riley x reader imagine #simon riley imagines #simon riley imagine #simon riley #ghost x reader #ghost x reader imagines #ghost x reader imagine #ghost imagines #ghost imagine #ghost #cod imagines #cod imagine #cod #call of duty imagines #call of duty imagine

[shadowtraveled]

would love to know your thoughts on rinsha dunmeshi. or on rin and kabru :-)

OH!! i love rin honestly lightning damage and unaffiliated spellcasters will get me every time.

i would have loved to see more of her, but i do really enjoy kui's style of storytelling where she gives us the information about a character that will tell us exactly what she wants us to know. it reminds me of the way someone described suzanne collins' writing as surgically precise—she has more information about characters and the world, but she included what would get her story across most effectively. kui gives off a similar impression, and i think rin is a good example of that.

sorry readmore because that was getting long already.

rin's backstory is really interesting to me because it helps us to extrapolate so much more about the world and the other characters in it.

for what it's worth, i don't think it's terribly likely that her parents were practicing ancient magic. they were immigrants of a visibly different ethnicity, though, and they were magic users, which othered them doubly in the northern continent, and that otherness cost them their lives. this is sort of a running theme in dungeon meshi overall ofc, but i think a lot of discussion surrounding dungeon meshi discrimination focuses on the elves. which is fair, since they seem to be the most significant world power and they're weird race elitists as elves in fantasy frequently are, but the story does not want us to forget that discrimination is complex and so is otherness. tallmen may not be respected by long-lived races, but in communities where they do have power, they're still perfectly capable of leveraging it against others. they seem to have a particular bias against magic, but really anything people deem weird or creepy is enough to land you in trouble: laios faced constant rejection and, in some cases, severe harassment just for being autistic; kabru's eye color was enough to push his mother to the fringes of society and get her accused of witchcraft, suggesting that "weird or creepy" is regularly conflated with "magic" in tallman societies; and falin's affinity for magic led to her isolation and ostracism as her mother frantically tried to suppress it. rin's parents, meanwhile, were outright executed. the nature of these reactions to anything unfamiliar or non-standard are definitely meant to convey something about tallman societies in the world, but i think rin and kabru's situations specifically lend some explanation as to why falin is so forgiving of her parents. they didn't really know what to do with her, and some of the things they did to her were harmful, but she seems to see them as trying their best to protect her, perhaps because she knows the emergence of her magic could have put her in immediate physical danger but didn't.

with that being said, i'm surprised rin doesn't have more of an aversion to tallmen, but maybe kabru made enough of an impression on her that she developed some hope for them.

her dislike of elves, meanwhile, is entirely understandable—her interactions with them seem to be framed as emblematic of how they treat short-lived races in a way we don't really see with the others. milsiril objectifies short-lived races but does seem to... kind of care, otta fetishizes them but seems to... kind of care, mithrun's squad only get to be patronizing for a bit before it becomes apparent they bit off way more than they could chew, and mithrun isn't invested in these designations anymore. but the elves that found rin treated her like evidence, then like a toy, and then they got bored and ignored her, and then she was evidence again, and then she got adopted out to elves who kept her like they would a pet. miserable fucking experience, and a very thorough and efficient way of expressing just how little the elves are socialized to consider the humanity of the other races.

as for her relationship with kabru... i'm glad they had each other around. it's impossible to be surprised that she latched onto him in her circumstances, and i think it's sweet that she was the one he stuck with (despite the implication that milsiril was raising other children alongside him that he ostensibly would have spent more time with).

i also love how apparent their closeness is! rin gravitates to kabru, and if i'm remembering right, most of the time she speaks it's to him. that immediately established to me that she is uniquely comfortable with him, and interestingly it goes both ways! it's less apparent with kabru, because he's a lot more social than she is, but vitally, he lets the mask slip with her. she's the only character he goes out of his way to tease, and sometimes he takes it a little bit into "alright that was kind of mean" territory, which sucks of him but is kind of the point. kabru's interactions with rin are the earliest ones where we see him fuck up or be a little bit of an asshole, and that's almost certainly because she is a person he feels comfortable enough with to not try to game every conversation. kabru being a little bit of a bitch is the first time we see him not trying to be charismatic. and she gives it RIGHT BACK lmfao it really conveys the feeling that these two are kind of "safe people" for each other, even if they're bantering a little meanly. very charming, top-tier childhood friend dynamic, no notes.

editing to add:

^ YEAH THIS IS IT thank you @gerrykeay i think this really captures the spirit of her revulsion with regard to things like magic school (and its graduates), etc... she seems to think of magic school as this sort of lofty opportunity only people with a certain level of social standing are able to access (which seems to hold a level of truth) and reject it on the basis that something like that is fundamentally incompatible with who she is as a person, and that's probably the same reason she remains unaffiliated despite knowing practicing magic without organization ties is potentially dangerous for her. these systems rejected and failed her family and her, so she rejects them in kind.... god i'm so obsessed with the way practically every character has a main character backstory and motivations this really is like a ttrpg lol

#anon #ask #rinsha fana #kabru #dungeon meshi #dungeon meshi spoilers #thank you this was fun to think about #severe problems

[xtrafluffyteddy]

The boss

Body guard! Ghost x Mafia boss! Fem! reader

A little self indulgent buttttt

Tw: violence, guns, alcohol, blood, sexism (quickly resolved)

Your name was feared around town, no one really knew what you looked like but they heard fearsome tales of a mafia boss who left people who wronged them so busted and broken that even dental records couldn’t tell you who they were before they crossed you, as well as the mafia bosses guard dog who would rip people to shreds just for starting rumors, and you loved it that way it made you feel powerful, untouchable.

“Love” Simon says as he strides into your room holding a new file and your favorite tea “new client comin in today he’ll be here in 20” he leans down to give you a soft kiss through his mask that he kept on during business hours, his face was only for your viewing pleasure no one else’s. “Mmm that you my darling stay with me won’t you?” You look up at him grinning “wouldn’t dream of leavin your side” he grunts.

The man, your client, came in 20 minutes late already getting himself on your shit list, “hey baby where’s the boss I gotta talk to him” the man says as he makes himself comfortable on your pristine black leather couch putting his disgusting feet up on your glass table “and uh get me a whiskey while your at it” you couldn’t help but grit your teeth catching Simon who gave you a look that screamed ‘let me kill this motherfucker’ with a quick wave of your hand you get up putting on a sickly sweet smile “of course sir anything else I can get for you sir”, Simon fought back the urge to tear this man apart for disrespecting you.

When you came back into the room you hand the man the shittiest whiskey you had in house after spitting in it when he wasn’t looking “thanks doll face” he said before slapping your ass as you walked back to Simon causing you to grit your teeth again. “Let me kill ‘em love” Simon whispers in your ear as he glares at the man “not yet darlin but soon” you turn back to the man with a fake smile “can you hurry it up bitch I got more important things to do” the man snarled getting fed up with how long it’s taking “of course of course” you sit down crossing one leg over the other picking up his file.

Reading over his file you were less that impressed a couple of petty crimes and a few drug runs nothing special in your eyes “hey big guy call your fucking boss already since this broad apparently doesn’t know how to fucking listen” your eye twitches as the man puts his cigarette out on your couch. Simon gives you a look and you nod grinning as he picks up his phone and presses call on your number. The look on the man’s face was priceless as your phone rang you relished in the way the color drained from his face and he immediately sat up straight “I-I-I-I” he stuttered “you- you- you- you what” you snarled “didn’t mean to disrespect me? Didn’t mean to come into my office make a mess of my shit? Oh sweetheart we’re way past piss poor apologies” he began shaking his head quickly getting up to come towards you only to be stopped by Simon who puts his hands on the man’s chest and pushed him back down onto the couch “sit down.” Simon growls before looking back at you “what do ya want me to do to him ma’am” you suck your teeth before sighing “maybe I’ll feed you to my dogs, orrrr maybe I’ll cut out your tongue for calling me a bitch, or I’ll let Ghost torture you nice and slow and send pieces of you back to the shit hole you crawled out of” you hum like your thinking “I think I’ll leave that a surprise wouldn’t wanna ruin the fun would we”

The mans body was found 5 blocks from your hideout, the police couldn’t believe the amount of damage that was inflicted. He was missing his eyes, his fingernails, his teeth seemed to have been pulled out one by one and shoved down his throat, and his tongue cut out and found right next to him with the word bitch carved into it.

“Si” you sigh stretching as you look over at the man who was washing the blood off his hands “yes my love” he replies turning his full attention towards you “I’m thinking Chinese tonight? Or maybe Italian” to others your lack of remorse for the carnage you left was terrifying, sickening even, but to Simon he couldn’t help but stare at you heart racing as he fell more in love with you.

#ghost #cod mwii #cod modern warfare #ghost x reader #ghost mw2 #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley cod #simon riley mw2

[xxlady-lunaxx]

I'm not coming home | {SaneOba}

Theme: Angst

Note: I hate adding trigger warnings simply because it basically spoils the whole thing, but I have to add them so, TW's!!: implications of wanting to die/suicide

Spoilers!! (like in the next sentence)

Will take place after the Infinity Castle thing, Obanai lived, Mitsuri did not. You can choose to think of ObaMitsu as platonic or romantic, it really doesn't matter, they were just close before. Sanemi has been helping Obanai with his mental health (and uhm failing), guess where this is going<33

×××

It had been some time since the final battle and Sanemi was tired. Yes, he had been getting a lot more sleep recently than the past few years, but he was tired. Fuck, it wasn't even because of his sleep—although he was having trouble adjusting to this new sleep schedule. But putting that aside, the reason for his tiredness was Obanai.

Obanai was... putting it nicely, not okay. Mitsuri had died in his arms after Muzan's death, and he was in some sort of daze now, as if it would undo the damage. He ate less than he ever had—which was saying something—and he barely slept, barely moved, really. Sometimes, though, he would wander around, looking lost.

Sanemi had taken to caring for Obanai—the two had started dating, as well. It was rocky, their relationship, or just... their life. It wasn't easy, obviously. How could it be?

Before, at least, they had distractions. Missions, patrol, their own life constantly in peril danger. But there was nothing now. It was a relief, for a lot of the survivors. It was a relief to Sanemi and Obanai, as well. But in a way, it was also worse. Made life just a dull of objects and colors, a blur in the background. It was empty, no action, no... nothing.

Sanemi didn't necessarily mind, however. Obanai, on the other hand, was very affected by it. Horribly. And it was obvious. So obvious to the point that Tanjiro brought up the concern once, while passing by Sanemi at the market.

Sanemi assured him that he'd help as best he could, and that he already was. But it fed his worries about Obanai and he went in search for his boyfriend later, whom he hadn't seen in a bit. He found Obanai, later, sitting absentmindedly on a hill, his katana in his hand. He was staring at it as if it held the answers of the world, his hand running over the handle to the leather sheath.

"Obanai?" Sanemi asked, confused. He quickly made his way up the hill, plopping down next to the smaller man. 

"Hm?" Obanai turned, meeting Sanemi's eyes. The turquoise and golden eyes of Obanai's appeared unfocused, and he looked as tired as ever. 

"What're you doing here?" Sanemi said, frowning. He glanced down at Obanai's lap, where his katana sat. "And why do you have that?"

"Uhm. Just thinking," Obanai mumbled, closing his hand over the katana handle tightly. "Why?"

"You look tired and I haven't seen you all day," Sanemi said, sighing. He wrapped an arm around Obanai, urging him to lean against him. (does that make sense?)

Obanai shrugged. "I wanted some fresh air."

"Ah."

They were silent for a while. Sanemi took this opportunity to look around, finding that he could see a lot of a town below them, stretching far off into the distance. If he wasn't mistaken, that was the town the Hashira would usually wander around in their free time. More specifically, Mitsuri, who would eat a lot in one of the restaurants there.

With that, Sanemi realized Obanai had probably been down there, most likely reminising about Mitsuri. He grumbled internally, wanting to smack himself for his stupidity. Obanai must be feeling miserable because of this.

"So... Why do you have your katana?" Sanemi asked. The past Hashira and Demon Slayers had all kept their katanas and/or uniforms if they were still in tact, given that there wasn't any need to rid of them. But as far as Sanemi knew, most people's katana's were probably gathering dust somewhere in the back of their house as demon slaying hadn't been the best of most people's memories. 

Obanai looked away. "No reason."

The frown on Sanemi's face deepened. There was definitely a reason. It couldn't only be for the purpose of remembering, could it? Although just to feel the weight of the katana was enough to trigger a lot of memories.

"Right." Sanemi stood carefully, making sure he didn't drop Obanai's limp—and very light, he must add—body in the process. "When will you come back home? Tomioka's visiting later, so you probably want to get a bit of rest first."

"I'm not coming home," Obanai mumbled. The words were quiet, almost unaudible. Almost.

"What?" Sanemi turned back, having been half way through heading back down.

Obanai didn't say anything and Sanemi quickly retraced his steps back up, turning Obanai's body to look at him.

"What do you..." His eyes drifted down to Obanai's katana, clutched tightly in his hand. "No."

Obanai blinked quickly, turning his face away. 

"No, Obanai, don't you dare," Sanemi hissed, grabbing the part of the handle protruding from Obanai's fist.

Obanai fought back, tugging at it. "Go away, Sanemi," he said, a sudden harshness entering his voice.

Startled, Sanemi nearly let go, but quickly regained his grip on the katana. Having been taking a lot better care of himself recently—and just generally being stronger than Obanai—he managed to take the katana from his boyfriend, gripping it tightly. 

"Do not. Obanai, you cannot leave now. You're still young enough to have life to you, don't you fucking dare," Sanemi said, a burst of desperation hitting him. "I can't... can't lose you too."

Their eyes met and, for a second, Obanai returned the glare. But then all the fight seemed to seep out of him and he slumped down, his hair slipping over his face. 

"I'm sorry," Obanai whispered. "I have to."

Sanemi shook his head. "No. No, you don't and you won't. Fucking hell, what have you been thinking this whole time?! We're going back home, Obanai. C'mon," he said with a heavy sigh, hoisting Obanai's unhealthily light body onto his back.

Obanai's arms clasped themself loosely onto Sanemi's shoulders as Sanemi made a slow descent down the hill.

"You're going to sleep now, Obanai. I will not let you die," Sanemi said. He wouldn't allow it.

×××

« Word count: 1086 »

×××

there's more floof in this cuz... i feel bad and i love writing floof as much as angst

putting the part one and two in the same post because it's easier<33

×××

Obanai was asleep and Giyuu was at the door and Sanemi was in the kitchen. Sanemi was also panicking.

He heard the knock at the door and opened it, letting Giyuu enter.

Then he promptly went back to panicking.

Giyuu watched him pace around for a couple minutes before speaking up.

"Are you alright, Shinazugawa?" he asked. He had gotten better at talking recently, having had more time to focus on his social life. He was more vocal now and it was helpful, really. 

Sanemi stopped and stared at him. He had run his hand through his hair several times earlier so it looked like a mess, he had been muttering to himself and pacing around for almost an hour now, after putting Obanai to sleep, and he was tired. No, he was not alright.

"Obanai tried killing himself earlier," Sanemi said bluntly, deciding to go straight (gay) to the point.

Giyuu blinked. He had not been expecting that. "What?"

Sanemi groaned, striding forwards and hitting his forehead against the wall several times. "He brought his katana with him. He didn't even deny it."

Giyuu moved forward, pulling Sanemi away from the wall. "When?"

"Over an hour ago. I made him sleep," Sanemi said, gesturing to the hallway that led to Obanai's room.

"Ah. We should ask Aoi for help, she might know therapist or something," Giyuu murmured.

"Why the fuck would we ask a child?!" Sanemi said incredulously.

Giyuu sighed. "Because Kocho wanted to sign us up for therapy but we didn't have time. Aoi or Kanao might be of some help in this matter since they knew Kocho better."

"Bitch, we're adults. We can find a therapist ourself. But I doubt Obanai would speak to one, in the first place. He's... got a lot of personal shit he'd most likely rather not tell anyone," Sanemi pointed out. He crossed his arms, moving away from Giyuu. 

"Right. I don't know, then," Giyuu murmured.

Sanemi frowned, looking down at the ground. "I don't know either. I've been trying to help him, but I don't think it's working."

"Mm. How have you been trying?"

"Uhh..." Sanemi paused, racking his brain. "I've been keeping a close watch on his sleeping and eating schedules—which are somehow still fucked up. I try talking to him sometimes but he doesn't really... want to. He's quieter now, too. It's difficult to deal with, and it's fucking up my head."

Giyuu nodded as he spoke, thinking for a moment. "Try to just spend time with him, maybe? Instead of so obviously focusing on his mental and physical health, just take him out on walks or dates, and so on," he suggested. "Maybe it'll clear his mind."

Sanemi raised an eyebrow. "That's... I'm surprised I'd hear that from you, Tomioka. But I'll try that, sure."

Giyuu pouted. "What does that mean?!"

"You know, you're really childish for a twenty-one year old man," Sanemi deadpanned. 

"...go cheer up Iguro, then," Giyuu said, huffing and turning to the door.

Sanemi laughed. "Will do. Thanks," he called after Giyuu who was already outside.

"No problem... And good luck!" Giyuu said, lifting a hand in a wave before promptly slamming the door shut.

Sanemi rolled his eyes and locked the door before turning as he heard a different door open.

Obanai stumbled into the hallway, rubbing his eyes and fixing his bandages. He quickly spotted Sanemi and sank into his boyfriend's arms, hugging him tightly.

"You alright?" Sanemi asked, patting Obanai. 

He got a muffled "yes" in response. 

"Are you hungry?" he asked, picking up Obanai and hoisting him onto his hip.

Obanai pulled back slightly to make himself comfortable, wrapping his legs around Sanemi's waist. "No' really..." he mumbled, resting his head on Sanemi's shoulder. He seemed tired, still, and probably had forgotten about earlier. 

"Okay. Sleepy? Want to cuddle?" Sanemi offered, kissing his cheek.

"Mmmhm," Obanai hummed, nuzzling against him.

Sanemi smiled. "Whatever you want. You're awfully clingy today, you know..."

"Is'at bad?" Obanai asked, lifting his head up to look at Sanemi.

"Not at all. It's adorable."

"I'm not adorable."

Sanemi scoffed. "Keep telling yourself that."

Obanai grumbled but went back to hugging him as Sanemi made his way back to the bedroom, closing the door and laying down with Obanai wrapped around him.

The room was silent, only the sound of their breathing, bringing a comforting feeling to them, lulling them into sleep.

Sanemi awoke, he didn't know how long later, and glanced down at Obanai who stayed asleep in his arms. The blanket previously pulled over them had at one point gotten tangled up between their limbs and Sanemi struggled for a moment to pull it back onto them.

He glanced at the window which had curtains drawn over them. A dim light filtered through the fabric, however, telling him it was around late evening or night. He moved his hand up to run through the dark, tangled locks of Obanai's hair, wrapping his other arm back around his boyfriend.

A while later—about twenty or so minutes—Obanai stirred awake, blinking wearily at Sanemi. His hair was messy, despite Sanemi having been finger-combing it for nearly half an hour before, but he looked considerably less tired then he had before.

"S'nemi...?" he mumbled, moving forward and re-attaching himself to his boyfriend.

"Yes?"

"Goo' mornin'..." Obanai said, his voice muffled by his bandages and sleep.

"It's... night," Sanemi said, laughing gently. 

"Oh." Obanai sat up slowly, glancing at the window. "Is it bad that we're used to waking up at dusk and going to sleep at dawn?"

"...Probably." Sanemi sighed. "How do you feel, though?"

"I'm fine."

"Tired, still, or not?"

"I feel better," Obanai admitted, running a hand through his hair. 

"I'm glad to hear it," Sanemi said, sitting up and kissing the smaller man's forehead. "Hungry?"

"Not really." 

Sanemi frowned. "When have you last eaten?"

Obanai pouted, crossing his arms. "That's none of your concern!"

"It is! If I want to care for you, I need to know!" Sanemi said.

"I don't need caring for! I'm twenty-one! I can care for myself!" Obanai protested.

Sanemi raised an eyebrow. "What, and this morning wasn't some sort of indication that you can't?" He immediately regretted the words afterwards when Obanai seemed to cower away, remembering. "Sorry, Obanai, I didn't mean..."

Obanai shook his head, silencing him. "It's fine." He slumped back down onto the futon, burying himself in the blankets.

Sanemi sighed. "I'll make us some food."

"Alright..."

×××

Sanemi decided to take Giyuu's advice into action and, the next day, took Obanai out on a walk after lunch.

Obanai was clueless and just walked around, one hand clasped around Sanemi's, the other clutching a pebble he'd picked up earlier. They walked in silence, enjoying the outside for once. It was a nice day and the weather was mild, not cold nor hot. It was peaceful; spring could be like that. (Fun fact: it was spring after the war!! Because the sakura tree in the Butterfly Estate had been blooming) There was a heavy scent of flowers in the air, given the trees were blooming and, with the occasional burst of wind, flower petals would float down around them.

Sanemi was watching Obanai carefully and had been caught staring at him several times, leading to more awkward silence.

Eventually, irritated, Obanai asked, "What?" upon catching Sanemi looking at him again.

Sanemi bit his lip, turning his gaze back in front of them. Obanai stopped, though, holding Sanemi back by his hand. 

"What?" he repeated, more forcefully.

Sanemi shook his head. "It's nothing, just thinking."

Obanai huffed. "If you keep thinking about yesterday, I'm going to rip your head off."

"Be my guest," Sanemi murmured. "And it's not that"—which was partially true—"so don't worry about it. I was thinking about when we were Hashira. Days like today just went by unnoticed since we were usually resting or training."

Obanai rolled his eyes. "Oh, are you reminising now? Are you going to go on about a speech to appreciate what we have now?"

Sanemi laughed. "Do you want me to?"

"Fuck no."

"Good, because I wasn't. But... you really should," Sanemi added, as an afterthought.

"What? I'm not reciting an essay for shit," Obanai said, scrunching up his nose. 

"That's not what I meant. i meant, like, to 'appreciate what you have now,' as you'd put it."

"Oh, so it is about yesterday." He sighed, letting go of Sanemi's hand to fidget with the rock. "Please stop thinking about it."

"Like I could." Sanemi crossed his arms, moving to stand in front of Obanai. "You do realize I care about you way more than anyone else right now?"

"Well you shouldn't. You should care about yourself." Obanai looked up, his eyes meeting the lavender eyes of Sanemi's, those of which he'd fallen in love with over and over again. God, he would do almost anything for him. Almost anything.

"Like you could talk! You're the one ignoring your own health," Sanemi shot back. "Obanai, seriously, just... I'll stop thinking about it when you can prove to me that you'll try to get better. If not for yourself, then... for..." He hesitated, unsure if he should continue the sentence. "For someone else."

Obanai frowned. "For you?" he asked. "Just say it. It's not selfish, if that's what you're thinking."

Sanemi shook his head again, running a hand through his hair and sighing. "It's... not that."

"Then?" Obanai asked impatiently. 

"That's not what we're talking about!" Sanemi said, trying to pull him off the course of the conversation.

"Yeah, well now it is. So, tell me." He crossed his arms for emphasis, glaring up at Sanemi.

Sanemi grumbled. "If I tell you, will you try to care for your health?"

"I walked into that, didn't I," Obanai said, sighing. 

"Yes."

"Fine. I'll try. But I won't promise any success."

"Good enough," Sanemi decided. 

"So?" Obanai asked, quirking an eyebrow when he didn't continue. "Tell me!"

"It's stupid," he insisted.

"So am I, and look who you're dating! Get on with it, idiot."

Sanemi rolled his eyes. "One, you're not stupid. And... fine. Fine," he repeated, as if telling himself more than Obanai. His gaze dropped to the ground, avoiding the prying eyes of his boyfriend. "It's about Kanroji."

Obanai tensed. "What about her?"

"I don't know. Just, you're doing this all for her, right? I know what you were looking at when I found you yesterday. I know you care about her a lot." Sanemi paused. "Basically—and fuck, I sound like a selfish brat, but—I didn't know if you cared about me enough to want to stay... for me," he concluded. "Which is why... yeah."

Obanai frowned, taking in this information. "Are you jealous or insecure?"

Sanemi winced. "Don't say it like that."

"Just answer."

"Both, really," he admitted, wishing he could crawl in a hole and die.

There was a beat of silence.

And then Obanai stepped forward, tiptoeing and wrapping his arms around Sanemi's neck, hugging him tightly. He glanced around, making sure nobody was there, then undid his bandages, kissing Sanemi gently. Sanemi embraced him, leaning against the hug. 

"God, you're like a big baby," Obanai murmured, placing another kiss on Sanemi's cheek.

"Says you," Sanemi said, although he smiled at the kiss. 

"Mm, sure." 

They stayed like this for a while, completely ignoring the fact that they stood in the middle of a road in public, their attention completely on each other.

Then Sanemi back away, embarrassed and almost guilty. "Sorry for turning this about me."

"Don't worry about it, it's nice to not be the one worried about for once," Obanai said, quickly fixing his mask and taking Sanemi's hand.

Sanemi nodded. "And it's nice to be the one worried about, honestly," he said. 

"Guess you haven't experienced it much?"

"Nah." 

They continued on their walk in silence for a while, consumed in their own thoughts. Obanai spoke up, after a few minutes, glancing up at Sanemi.

"Hey, and for the record? I do care about you. Fuck, I'm sorry for seeming so laser-focused on Mitsuri lately, but... I mean, don't take this the wrong way, but she's all the reasons why I want to die. You're all the reasons I want to stay," he said, his voice gentle. 

Sanemi stared at him. 

"What?"

"N... Nothing," Sanemi mumbled, his hand tightening around Obanai's. "Thanks."

Obanai nodded, confused. He double-stepped forward to see Sanemi's face—who had turned away—and stopped. "Oh my god, are you going to cry?!" 

Sanemi shook his head, his hand reaching up to rub his eyes. "Fuck no, what the hell are you talking about?..."

Obanai sighed, letting go of his hand to wipe the tear that slipped down Sanemi's cheek. "Crying isn't bad."

"Well, good for you. Because I'm not crying!" Sanemi insisted, a whine entering his voice.

"And you said I was the baby," Obanai grumbled, rolling his eyes. But he hugged Sanemi again, holding him tightly in his arms. 

Sanemi buried his face in the mess of Obanai's hair, practically strangling him with a hug. "'m not crying," he repeated, with less insistency.

"Whatever you say."

After Sanemi got himself back together, the two walked down the road again, more awkwardly as neither knew what to say anymore. 

"Uhm... So, back to you?" Sanemi suggested.

"Fuck no."

"Fuck yes."

"You want to fuck?" Obanai asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Maybe?" Sanemi said, mimicking Obanai.

"Idiot," Obanai said, laughing.

Sanemi smiled. "You're laughing."

Obanai immediately stopped. "Okay, no, that's stupid. Don't be stupid."

Sanemi rolled his eyes. "You're stupid."

"I know."

"God."

They exchanged a smile before Obanai decidedly broke into a run, making Sanemi do a double take before chasing after him.

"What the hell?!" he shouted, catching up quickly.

Obanai grinned at him, quickening his pace. "How much strength from being do you think we have left?"

"I bet I have more than you do," Sanemi replied, running ahead of Obanai.

"Fuck you!!" Obanai whined, attempting to get back in line with Sanemi.

They laughed as they ran, and probably wouldn't have stopped if it weren't for the fact that they nearly crashed into someone. Both of them skidded to a stop, almost toppling over themselves in an attempt to not hit the other person.

"Fuck..." Sanemi groaned, helping Obanai steady himself.

"Okay, what the hell is wrong with you two?" the person asked, his voice familiar.

They looked up.

"Great," Obanai said, crossing his arms.

"The fuck is that supposed to mean?!" Tengen whined. 

"Nothing. What're you doing here?" Sanemi asked.

"Uh, walking. Why?" Tengen said, cocking an eyebrow. "And you two?"

"Same as you," Obanai said. 

"Right. You look better," Tengen noted, looking Obanai up and down.

"What do you mean?"

"Well rested." 

Sanemi nodded. "He slept a lot yesterday and the day before."

"I was tired," Obanai said defensively. "And what do you mean, 'better'?!"

"It wasn't an insult," Tengen said, laughing. "And of course you were tired."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?!" Obanai threw the pebble at Tengen who dodged it, grinning at him.

Sanemi rolled his eyes. "He means you were being insomniac and unhealthy and that you're already making improvement, dumbass."

Obanai huffed. "You too?!"

"Hey, don't blame me! You were the only one who fell into some sort of neglection of yourself after Muzan!" Sanemi pointed out.

"Anyways, I don't want to hear you two bickering, so... bye!" Tengen said, saluting them before promptly turning and practically disappearing.

Sanemi and Obanai stared after to where Tengen had run off to, watching his figure fade into the distance.

"Why is everyone concerned about my health," Obanai asked, after a minute. 

"Because you're easy to be concerned about. You look happier though," Sanemi said, turning back to Obanai. "Right now."

"That's cuz we were running and it was exhilarating. I haven't done that in a bit."

"Yeah, I know. That's why I took you out on the walk," he said, taking Obanai's hand into his own.

"Hmm, I knew you had ulterior motives," Obanai said. "'I need fresh air' my ass." 

"That wasn't a lie."

"Yeah, yeah."

"Hey, you lied about that, too!" Sanemi said, walking again.

"Fair enough."

×××

Giyuu's tactic seemed to work. It was distracting Obanai a lot more and he looked a lot lighter now, although he occasionally lapsed into fits of depressing—if you could call it that—and Sanemi was always there for him when they happened. But he was progressing and his katana ended up in the corner of the entrance hall, dust slowly collecting on the hand guard. He was doing better, and it was all Sanemi could really ask for.

×××

« Word count: 2731 »

y'all i know I ended this randomly but I was losing ideas for this and it ended up so much different than i'd intended AND HOW THE FUCK DID I GET NEARLY 3000 WORDS?! I THOUGHT IT WOULD ONLY BE 600-1000 BUT NAH...

Also i js remembered how much I love fluff 🤩

so many scenes in this oneshot i'm in love w/ how it turned out (also a bit eh but YAYY)

#kny #sillyness #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer #fluff #angst #hashira #saneoba #sanemi x obanai #obanai #iguro #sanemi #sanemi shinazugawa #saneoba bc i'm in love w/ the ship #FLOOF #fluffy #angsty #yaay #two parts in one #i love them so much #part 1 and two #<333 #weee #cuties #i love them #sanemi shinazugawa x obanai iguro #gays #gay #gayness #angsty shit

[v-v-void]

Realized today that my "special Interest" is also the thing I started researching daily because it was the only thing I could do that didn't completely piss my abusive ex of. The only thing I could do on my phone that wouldn't start shit. I couldn't talk to anyone without it being an issue. Playing games on my phone felt like... idk it made the days drag on. It made living life feel more like running on a hamster wheel and that didnt help my situation but it was a way to pass the time without setting him off. Mind you everything i set it him off abruptly. I had lost any interest in books. I couldn't write. I got a really nice paint set, pastels, water colors and an easel because art class was the only class I'd go to and passed. I didn't even get a chance to use it because I brought it to his house so I had something to do while he played his x box. But anytime I talked about wanting to try it, he would either make fun of me or tell me I wasn't any good anyways so why would my mom even get it for me. Still to this day. I'm obsessed with the way oil pastels feel in my hand. How smooth it goes on a canvas. The way you can blend them together and everything looks soft. The way you can change your strokes and the texture changes. Even the way it looks when you drag a paper towel across it. Ugh. I suck at art but I love it. Painting too. But pastels will forever hold a spot in my heart. And I haven't touched any since before I got the art supplies back then. It's the only thing I wish I went back for or asked someone to grab for me. But it wasn't worth it.

With that being said. It didn't matter what I did. His moods were so.. unpredictable..

Any who. Astrology. That was my thing

Never felt much like a Leo. Still don't most of the time. But at least now I know why. Now I see more than just the basic sun sign and I can never get enough. Still to this day.

I'll just sit here and save post after post and compare it to stuff I've already learnt. And yet I go blank when anyone asks about it because I'm afraid to sound stupid. The odd time someone asks and pushed for me to share a little.. I will go off on a tangent, get embarrassed, feel like I don't make sense and then I'll wish I kept my mouth shut and pretended I didn't know anything. At least then I wouldn't sound stupid because now I don't male any sense.

Fucking hell this guy messed me up. I'm afraid people will think I'm stupid for believing in it. I'm afraid I'll sound stupid or people pretend to care. Or they ask about it and I say I know alot and yet.. when asked.. I shut down. So how tf will someone believe me.

Same goes for when people ask about what happened and what he did to me behind closed doors.. I got told I had ptsd and I felt like that was absurd because he hadn't hit me.. the damage is so clearly there. And yet I still feel like people don't believe me. It's awful to say but I wish he hit me. Bruises heal... not this though. This dude lives in my head rent free and makes sure I'm terrified and second guessing everything and everyone. It's rare for me to feel calm. To feel comfortable. Or confident. I'm afraid to try because I don't feel good enough. I don't know myself because he turned me into a husk of a person. He fed on the power he had over me and I've tried to deny it but he still does. And I hate myself for that. I feel weak. And scared.. and just.. so fucking angry. How tf did I let someone who treated me the way he did, cause me to fuck up my education. And now I'm lost and stuck and I feel unsafe with everyone and don't know how to let anyone be here.. but I'm so tired and I just want to feel safe with someone again. Tf is wring with ne

[alcinadimitrescuwu]

This Woman's Work Part IX (Alcina x Female Reader Fanfic)

Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part V Part VI Part VII Part VIII

“You’re almost there, Maman. You’re doing great. Just a couple more steps.”

You take a deep breath in through your nose and blow it out through your mouth and push forward at your daughter’s coaxing, your arms gripping the railing that had been set up in your bedroom. The wound in your side is in agony but you take another step, biting the inside of your cheek hard to keep from crying out in pain.

It has been three weeks since that horrible night. You had already lost a lot of blood by the time Karl and Alcina arrived at Donna’s place. In an incredible stroke of luck, Donna had surgical thread in her sewing kit and at Salvatore’s instructions (he was having one of his good days) sewed up the place where Alcina’s claws had torn through. You were in and out of consciousness, but every time you opened your eyes Alcina was there by your side holding your hand.

Alcina is sitting nearby in her chair now, gently burping Ecaterina after her feeding. She looks up at you and you see concern in her golden eyes and another emotion that has been a mainstay for the past couple weeks: guilt.

Things had been...awkward between the two of you since that night. No matter how many times you assured her that all was well and you had forgiven her, she refused to forgive herself. You had only been intimate one time since that night and it ended quickly after Alcina had forgotten about the wound in your side as she cupped your hip and you couldn’t hold back the scream of pain that came out of your mouth. Alcina had immediately gotten out of the bed and as far away from you as she could, as if afraid touching you would cause any more damage.

She had sunk into the chair and began sobbing brokenly. You had wished to go to her, but your Bath chair was already on the other side of the room. You braced yourself against one of the bedposts as you said gently, “Darling, it was an accident. The pain’s already subsiding. Please come back to bed.”

Alcina covered her face with her hands, but you could see the tears rolling down her cheeks. “I can’t even make love to my wife without causing her pain. What kind of wife does that make me?” The raw self-hatred in her voice broke your heart.

From that point on whenever you had settled down for the night, Alcina kissed your forehead and turned out the light and that was the end of it. She kept to her own side of the bed and you greatly missed the feeling of her muscular arms about you with your shoulder tucked under her chin, her curls kissing your cheekbones.You had the sense that if you tried to move closer she would move away so you didn’t even try.

You try to take another step and suddenly the room spins around you and you fall forward. Daniela, however, quickly grabs your arm and puts her arm around your shoulder before you hit the ground.

“I think that should be enough for today, Maman,” Bela says soothingly.

You set your jaw. You only have three more steps to go before you clear the railing. “No, girls, I can keep going.” But your ragged breathing and forehead shining with sweat give you away. You push your tongue to the inside of your cheek and taste coppery blood from where you had bitten into it.

Cassandra rolls your Bath chair over to you. “Maman, you don’t need to push yourself so hard. You’re not gonna be of any use to Ecaterina if you run yourself ragged.”

You smile at Cassandra’s brutal honesty as she helps you into your Bath chair. “You’re right, dearest.”

Alcina stands up, having finished burping Ecaterina. She looks affectionately over at her daughters taking care of you and you see one of the first genuine smiles from her that you’ve seen in weeks. “You’ve been so good to Maman these past few weeks, dears. She and I really appreciate all the help you’ve given to us and Ecaterina.” She rests the hand not holding Ecaterina on the back of your chair and you take her hand in yours, kissing her knuckles. Surprisingly, she doesn’t pull away this time. “It’s time for us to put Ecaterina down for her nap and for me to change Maman’s bandages. If you’ll excuse us, loves.”

The girls nod in agreement and vanish into their bug shrouds. Alcina turns around and settles Ecaterina into her cradle. Ecaterina gurgles, her eyes mirroring the gold in Alcina’s. Alcina gives her a tender kiss on the forehead before turning to you. She motions for you to stand up and you obey as she kneels down to your level and helps you take off your day dress. Standing there in your slip with her hands on you reminds you of how long it has been since you have last felt her touch.

Alcina lifts up your slip ever so lightly and peels off the gauze bandage wrapped around your waist. Alcina sets her jaw as she uncovers the gashes she herself had inflicted on you. She takes off her gloves, dips the pad of her thumb in a jar of salve and applies it to your wounds. There is an unreadable expression on her face.

You try to give her an encouraging smile. “I talked to Sal the other day,” you posit. “He says that even though the wound is deep,if I don’t expose it to too much sunlight it won’t leave a scar!”

“Not a physical one at least,” Alcina mutters.

Ok. You’ve had enough. You turn her head to face you. “Darling, we’ve been over this,” you say, rubbing her cheekbone with the pad of your thumb. “Are you going to keep punishing yourself forever?”

Almost despite herself, Alcina leans into your touch and interlaces her large fingers with yours. “I can’t imagine how much physical pain you must be in, my love,” Alcina whispers. “And all by my hand.” Tears begin forming in Alcina’s aureate eyes. “I nearly killed you.”

“You didn’t though, Alcina!” You move over to her lap and she gently almost tentatively wraps her arms around you and holds you close. You lean your head against her chest and resist the urge to sigh. It’s been so long since you’ve been held by your wife. “I know you were under Miranda’s control but something held you back from killing me outright. I know it.”

“You don’t know what it’s like being under someone else’s control.” You can almost feel Alcina’s body shudder as she recalls that night. “It was like I was outside my body watching myself. I was screaming at myself to stop when I kissed that woman.” The memory of your wife kissing Mother Miranda so passionately pops into your mind briefly but you shut it out as she goes on. “And when I stabbed you, I-” Her voice cracks. “I was practically begging myself to stop but my body just moved on its own.”

“Don’t you see, then, darling?” you ask. “You weren’t yourself when you were under Mother Miranda’s control. The person that kissed Mother Miranda, the person that stabbed me, that wasn’t you, so please.” You cradle Alcina’s face in your hands and stare into those beautiful discs of gold. “Please stop blaming yourself for this. Mother Miranda is dead. I’m alive. Our daughter is safe and healthy. That’s what matters now.”

Alcina kisses your forehead lovingly. “When did you get so wise?” she asks, tucking a stray curl behind your ear. You can see that you’ve finally gotten through to her. Her body posture is more relaxed, her jaw is loose, and her shoulders aren’t so tight. She carefully places the new bandage over your wound and you feel a pleasant tingle as you feel her bare fingers brush briefly over your tender skin.

She moves to pull your slip over your new bandage but you take her wrist before she can withdraw it. You hold her gaze as you take the strap of your slip off your shoulder and your slip coils in a pool of silk around your ankles. She takes you in her arms and brushes her lips against yours briefly. When she pulls aways, you see the same desire in her eyes. “Are you quite sure, ingeras?” Alcina asks, brushing the back of her knuckles against your cheekbones.

“Yes” you rasp. “Take me to the bed.”

Alcina picks you up as you wrap your legs around her waist, taking care not to touch your sensitive wound and carries you over to the bed. She gently, almost reverently lays you down on the bed. She lowers herself down to kiss you again and you bury your fingers in her curls. Alcina deepens the kiss, her tongue coaxing your mouth open as you unfasten the pearl buttons on the back of her dress. “I’ll go slow for you, draga,” Alcina murmurs against your lips.

“Alright, let’s see how our little patient is doing today- JESUS CHRIST! What the FUCK?”

It seems like Heisenberg has decided to check up on you today.

With a frustrated growl Alcina moves quickly in front of you while holding her own dress up. “Yes, Heisenberg, that is in fact what we were setting out to do before you arrived.” Alcina shakes her head at him derisively. “You seem to have impeccably bad timing, as always.”

Heisenberg’s face is beet red again, you note with amusement. “Well, excuse me for trying to check in on my sister-in-law and my goddaughter! Speaking of which, really Alcina? Getting down and dirty with the kid in the room?”

Alcina’s cheeks are also sporting a lovely red color. “Ecaterina was asleep.” Amidst all the commotion, Ecaterina has already woken up and is crying. “Well, she was until you came in.”

The girls suddenly materialize into the room. “Mother!” Cassandra chirps. “I thought I heard Uncle Karl in here and- JESUS CHRIST! What the FUCK!”

Alcina covers her face with her hands. Bela takes the book that Daniela is holding and holds it so it’s covering the image of you and your wife on the bed. “Really Mother,” Bela tuts to herself.

Daniela doesn’t seem to mind. She turns to the two of you, unperturbed by the state of your undress and asks, “Can Uncle Karl stay for dinner, Mother, Maman? Please? It’s been so long since we’ve all had dinner together!”

You smile indulgently at her over Alcina’s shoulder. “Of course he can, darling,” you say.

“Fine,” Alcina mutters. "Now if you please, will all of you kindly get out of our room?”

The daughters vanish into the bug shrouds, chattering excitedly about what Cook is making for dinner. Heisenberg leaves too, chuckling softly to himself.

You turn to your blushing bride and give her a chaste kiss on the lips before you both get dressed and join your daughters for dinner.

Together. As a family.

#alcina dimitrescu #lady alcina dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu x reader #alcina x maiden #alcina x reader #lady dimitrescu x female reader #re8 fanfiction #re8 fanfic #bela dimitrescu #cassandra dimitrescu #daniela dimitrescu #alcina dimitrescu x reader #karl heisenberg #mother miranda #re8 village #alcina x female reader #lady dimitrescu x maiden

[hops-hunny]

Just a Flight Away

Pairing: Neville Longbottom x Ilvermony!Reader

Word Count: 2.8k

Request N/A

Summary: Neville has a cutie who lives in America but no one seems to believe him.

Warnings: None! 

A/N: This isn’t a request but it’s based off of me rambling here and slightly off of the vibe telepatia by Kali Uchis gives off.

If there was one thing Neville was thankful was it was the absolute goddess he got to call his girlfriend. It was funny the way they first began talking to one another. (Y/n) had been trying to contact a friend at Hogwarts but after the long trip from Ilvermony to Hogwarts, her owl was quite exhausted and ended up bringing the letter to Neville instead. Neville saw the poor bird, giving it a bit of bird seed and water that he kept in the green house before he set off to find the rightful owner of the letter. Luckily he had 3rd period with the girl who thanked him before excitedly yanking the letter from his hands. When Neville went to go check on the owl, he saw that it had already left, leaving a heart shape in the bird seed.

After that day, Neville hadn’t really thought about the incident that much. Well, that was until he saw the same owl fly towards him with a letter in its mouth. He smiled fondly at it rubbing under its chin with his finger before going to give the letter back to the owl until he noticed it had his name on it.  He ripped it open, careful to not damage the envelope before reading the letter.

Dear Neviile,

Thank you so so so much for getting the letter to Gwen! Gwen is a good friend of mine who I had been missing dearly and if not for your kindness she would have never received my letter. 

As you may be able to tell from the seal on the letter, I attend Ilvermorny school of witchcraft and wizardry. I've heard of how grand and great the infamous Hogwarts is, is it true? How is England in general? I've never had the pleasure of traveling out of America.

Oh yes! The main point of this is as a thank you, I've attached a package of my favorite American sweets as a token of my gratitude. The package is enchanted which is why it's so small. To restore it to its original state, place it on a flat surface before tapping it with the tip of your wand.

Sincerely,

(Y/n) (L/n)

Neville felt his face grow warm at the girl's kindness. (Y/n). 'What a beautiful name..' he thought to himself before pulling out the galleon sized package from the envelope. He pushed aside a few plants on the table in front of it before placing the package down, tapping the top with his wand. He gasped, watching in amazement as he saw the package expand. Neville wasn't quite familiar with this enchantment, perhaps he'd ask her about it in his response. His cheeks turned a brighter red. Response?

Did she want to speak to him more? He didn't want to assume but by her letter and her asking questions, it made it clear that this wasn't the last exchange she wanted to have. Was this a prank? Were the Weasley twins up to this? There was only one way to tell. Neville reached a shaky hand forward, opening the package as he closed his eyes expecting something to pop out at him but when he opened his eyes there was nothing but a box of snacks he had never seen before. He let out a sigh of relief, ignoring the racing in his heart.

After that, Neville and the girl started to talk quite a bit. Months had turned into years and he couldn't have been happier. It felt nice to have someone he could talk to, someone far away from all the hustle and bustle of the castle. To her he wasn't the kid with unfortunate luck or the "cowardly" boy in Gryffindor. He was just Neville, her boyfriend. Neville, her kind boyfriend in another continent, far away. 

(Y/n) loved Neville just as much. It wasn't that she never had suitors approach her. In fact, she had quite a few. (Y/n) was what you could consider popular, not that she cared. She was kind, smart, and beautiful. Who wouldn't want that? However, she always felt like none of the men who'd approach her got her. They all just saw her as a beautiful woman instead of what she was, a normal girl deserving of love. That's why she liked Neville so much. No matter what he always treated her with the utmost respect and that hadn't stopped when they started to date either. 

When the two had first exchanged photos, Neville was stunned. He had been talking to that beautiful of a girl? He couldn’t believe it. It was as if Olivander himself had sculpted and carved her out of the best of wood. She had glowing (s/c) skin, soft healthy looking (h/c) (h/c) hair, and a smile that could compete with the sun on its brightest of days and win. And when he found out she was single? He would’ve been a fool not to make a move. Angels as sweet as (Y/n) didn’t come around that often. 

And although their relationship was as great as can be there was the underlying sadness: they lived across the world from one another. Every time either of them would see a couple hug or kiss in school, they’d feel a twinge of jealousy pierce their hearts. It wasn’t fair that the most perfect person in the world was off enjoying themselves in their respective countries. Although (Y/n) tried to ignore it, Neville was the type to bring it up. He’d describe in the most beautiful of words what he’d do if they were together. How he’d hold her in his arms and show her off to all of his friends. Where he’d take her on a date, the plants he wanted to show her as they were both herbology geeks. Meanwhile she’d end each of the letters discussing this topic with the same phrase as usual. ‘You know I’m just a flight away. If you wanna I could take a private plane.’ He could never ask that of her though. As much as he’d love everyday to be filled with his flower, he wouldn’t wanna rip her away from the things she had going on in her own life.

It wasn’t all bad though! After the girl had taught him the charm she used when she first sent him something, they both would send each other gifts back and forth as much as possible. Neville sent her sweaters with his scent embedded, charmed flowers, chocolate frogs, anything she wanted was hers. She’d send her own things to remind him of her as well. Her favorite stuffed animal, loads of photographs, little crochet hats she made for Trevor, more...unsavory things as well definitely not her underwear. Despite the increase in objects Neville owned, none of his friends had questioned it until he started to wear a necklace with a heart shaped piece of onyx on it with the letter (Y/f/i) carved into it.

“Oi! Neville. Where’d you get that necklace from?” Ron questioned his friend who sat across from him in the Gryffindor common room. The boys had all decided to study together which of course turned into Neville studying as they goofed off. Neville tensed as his cheeks heated up turning a pink color.

“O-oh um..it’s from my girlfriend.” He said, saying the last word as soft as possible. He prayed to Merlin that his friends hadn’t heard him but unfortunately for him they had. It wasn’t that he didn’t want anyone to know about her. It was far from that. He was just a bit protective, he didn’t want anyone to try and steal her from him. Even though it was impossible since they had no contact with her, he never knew when it came to his friends. They always found a way to make the impossible possible.

“What year is she in?!”

“Who is it?!”

“No way, is she fit?!”

He finished at the chorus of voices, trying to calm them down so he could speak. They all scooted closer to him, looking up at him expectantly. “Well you see..” he trailed off, looking away as he played with the pendant around his neck. “She doesn’t go here. She attends school in Ilvermorny. But to answer your question, yeah she is bloody fit.” he responded, turning his attention back to the scroll of paper in front of him. Dean, Ron, and Seamus exchanged a look with each other trying to suppress their laughs.

“Yeah I’m sure she does Nev.” Dean said sarcastically as he joined the other two in laughter. Neville looked up at his friends confused at their behavior.

“Yeah Nev, if your nan sent it you could’ve just told us! Better than saying you’ve got a girl halfway across the world.” Ron said, pushing the boy slightly as he continued to laugh at him. Seamus was doubled over, snorting with laughter as fire whiskey shot from his nose causing the other two to howl with laughter.

“It’s not from my nan! My girlfriend really did send it to me.” he exclaimed, smacking Ron on the back of the head, before doing the same to the other two men. “Besides, you have some fucking nerve accusing me of lying when none of you have birds yourself.” he sneered, causing the boys to quiet down some.

“So harsh Neville, you didn’t have to go there mate! Well what’s this ‘girlfriend’ of yours called.” Seamus asked, doing air quotes as he mentioned the topic at hand. “You’d think it was a bit strange too if your friend suddenly mentioned a girlfriend who lived all the way in the states too wouldn’t you.”

“(Y/n). And I’ll have you know this isn’t a new thing. We’ve been dating since around 2nd year. Sure, I’d find it a bit strange if you mentioned a girlfriend in America that you had never brought up prior, but I wouldn’t find it impossible! Now if you excuse me, I have to go.” he quickly stood up, packing up his materials as he stormed off to the direction of his dorm. He sped up, ignoring the protest and begging of his friends to come back and continue to hang out with them. He had enough of them and he wasn’t gonna sit there and let himself be called a fucking liar by Hogwart’s biggest ones.

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

“Did you guys hear? Students from Ilvermony are supposed to be coming to visit!” Ron said, running up to the other four boys. “I’m just picturing how hot all the girls from the states are gonna be. All hot and leggy with those bloody accents. I could combust just thinking of it!” he exclaimed, flopping down on the couch. Neville gasped softly, looking up. Did he hear him correctly? 

“Where’d you hear that from? I didn’t hear anything of the sorts.” Hermione questioned, looking up from her book at the interesting news she had just heard. However, Neville was still frozen. Was this true? And if so, why hadn’t (Y/n) mentioned it. No, no it couldn’t be. She surely would have told him.

“I just overheard it from Dumbledore himself. They should be arriving in a few minutes! They’re staying here for a few months. It’s a part of this new thing that they’ve set up. Something about wanting the students to learn different methods and what not. They decided it’d be a good idea since summer is coming soon.” he said nonchalantly, looking over at Neville who hadn’t moved since the news left his mouth. He went to question what was up with him before his eyes lit up, recalling the conversation they had a few months ago. “Hey Neville? Didn’t your supposed ‘girlfriend’ go to Ilvermony.” the boys all suddenly interested began to ‘ooo’ exchanging looks with each other.

“See Neville, this is why you don’t lie. Lies will always come back to bite you in the rear. Perhaps Ronald i-”

“I wasn’t lying, Hermione! She really does go to Ilvermony.” he exclaimed, standing up as he wiped his hands on his pants. All of a sudden, there were the sounds of a bunch of American accents speaking which caught all of their attention. Many different students in Ilvermorny uniforms (some without them) roamed freely to explore the large and intense castle.

“God you weren’t kidding Ron, the girls are bloody fit.” Dean muttered, eyeing some girl who gave him a wink before giggling and running off with her friends. “Woah look at that one, are you kidding me? She’s a fucking goddess!” Neville’s curious hazel eyes followed his friend's words as he saw a familiar shade of (h/c) hair styled in the way his girlfriend wore it. Wait, was that his sweater? 

“That’s not just some fucking girl, that’s my girlfriend!” Neville exclaimed, standing up from his seat.

“No chance.”

“You couldn’t pick a more believable one?”

“Prove it then.”

Neville went to say something before the girl turned around, locking eyes with him. She gasped, tearing up some as she pushed through the crowd of people running to him as quickly as possible. “Nev! Neville babe, is that you?” she exclaimed. Neville’s face flushed brightly taking in the girl’s appearance. She had worn the first sweater he had given her, a mossy green sweater with an obscure pattern, with a pleated skirt pairing it with a pair of boots. Neville nodded his head quickly, holding his arms out as the girl ran into him almost knocking him over. He picked her up, spinning her around quickly before setting her down, holding her soft face between his hands.

“W-what are you doing here?! You never told me you were coming to visit!” he exclaimed, wiping at the stray tears that had left her eyes. He moved his hands from her face securing them around her waist as he stared down at her. God she was even more beautiful in person.

“I wanted to surprise you! I actually found out a few weeks ago and let me tell ya, it was SO hard not to tell you!” She giggled, reaching up to stroke his cheek. He leaned into her touch, smiling at her. “I didn’t think it was possible for you to get even more handsome but bloody hell. You’re so fucking hot, Nev.” she said, feeling her face heat up. Neville flushed a bright red before leaning down, kissing the girl on the lips. She pulled him down more, wrapping her arms around his neck as she kissed back. The kiss was full of the love and affection they had both been craving from one another. (Y/n) tangled her hands in the back of his hair as he deepened the kiss, moaning softly. They both jumped away from one another at the sound of someone clearing their throat. “Ah sorry! Nev, are you going to introduce me to your friends?” she asked looking up at him as she intertwined his large hand with her smaller one.

“I suppose I will, even though for some reason they thought you weren’t real.” he quipped, glaring at the four boys who looked away ashamed. “From left to right there is Harry, Ron, Dean, and Seamus. And over there,” he said pointing to the big arm chair in the corner. “That is Hermione.” he said as they all muttered ‘hi’ and ‘sorry’ from some of them. (Y/n) giggled some, waving at them all.

“It’s very nice to meet you all! Nev talks about you guys all the time in his letters. Oh!” She said, eyes looking at his chest. She reached a hand forward, grabbing the engraved onyx in her hands. “The necklace I gave you!! You like it? I think it looks really good on you.” she exclaimed with a smile, happy her boyfriend enjoyed the gift she gave him. Neville once again looked at his friends chuckling some at their wide eyes.

“Of course I do, petal. I wear it everyday, everywhere I go. Right guys.” he teased, watching as they all stuttered out ‘yes ‘yep’ ‘sure does. “Come on flower, I’ll show you around the castle. I know you’ve been looking forward to that for a while. Also, you look quite cute in my sweater.”

“Thank you. I wear it quite often, even though the smell of you has worn off it still brings me good memories.” she said, playing with the slightly worn out sleeves of the sweater. “I’d love to!! Can we check out the greenhouse first? I wanna see that plant you were talking about. Maybe we can work on identifying what species it is!” he nodded in response, taking her hand once again as they began to walk off. Before they turned the corner, he quickly turned his head around using his unoccupied hand to flip off his friends before turning his attention back to his lover.

“Who would’ve thought? Longbottom with an absolute fox.” Ron said, slumping back down as he frowned. Hermione took the book she was reading smacking him upside the head.

“Maybe if you knew how to treat women you’d be with one too.”

#Neville Longbottom #neville longbottom x reader #neville x you #neville longbottom x you #neville x reader #harry potter imagines #Harry Potter #harry potter imagine

[authornina]

Dalonte “DALY” Dennis: (TEK)

***THIS HAS NOT BEEN THROUGH A TYPICAL EDITING PROCESS; ALL SHORTS ARE ROUGH DRAFTS***

Daly shook his head listening to his sisters go back and forth about dumb shit. It seemed like they always waited until he came around to bring up niggas. He never intruded on their personal lives because he’d instilled enough in them to know what to do and what not to do. He had been on his own with them since he could remember. Daly was only ten years old roaming the streets looking for food to feed them. Life didn’t give him much of a choice to live another way. His mother left everything up to him, so he had to do anything to survive. At first it was just he and TJ, then two more girls came, and his mother literally dropped them off home to him. Daly cared for infants alone being just a baby himself.

They were on their way to the airport to pick up the baby of the three, Erie. She went away to college four years ago and this would be her first time back in Philly since graduating. They visited her a lot, but they were all happy to have her in the same state as them again. He was so proud of Erie for sticking it out and finishing college. At first, she would beg to come home. She even threatened to drop out several times. Daly spoiled Erie the most so during each one of her breakdowns he flew to Atlanta where she attended Spelman to talk her down.

All three of his sisters even being raised by him like straight niggas turned out to be great women despite their foul ass mouths and no-nonsense ass attitudes. People always said how pretty they were until witnessing one of them in action. Daly was a cool brother to have but he sometimes was too hard on himself thinking he could’ve done better with them and their emotions. He didn’t know how to raise children let alone girls but over the years he learned so much about women, more than he actually wanted to know. 

TJ was the oldest and she owned a popular hair salon. She was the wildest and most outspoken. Daly had to bail her out of jail several times, primarily for domestic disputes with her lovers. She was openly bisexual and came out to him when she was sixteen, saying if Daly didn’t accept her for who she was, he could kiss her ass. Of course, no matter what he loved his sister. TJ was five-eight, with tan skin covered by tattoos. She had them everywhere. None of them knew their fathers and Daly assumed she was biracial off her features and TJ didn’t like that. So, the long curly black hair she once had as a girl which made her ambiguity more apparent was shaved off and she chose to wear all types of colorful wigs. She was beautiful either way with her natural hunter green eyes and freckled rosy cheeks. Despite her lifestyle and appearance, TJ went to church a lot. She’d been that way since she was just a child. Always telling Daly she had them all covered on the prayer tip, so they were good. She believed the Lord protected her big brother the many nights he had to go out and do what needed to be done for them. TJ had a huge and loving heart she just didn’t have the patience for bullshit.

Ta’Kia, whom everyone simply called Kia was the calmest when considering the three of them. She didn’t bother anyone unless they bothered her. It was a different story if she knew you though, you wouldn’t be able to shut her ass up. She went to college in state at West Chester where she met her white boyfriend that she stressed out regularly. Kia was also fair skin and four-eleven of feistiness. Daly knew whoever her father was had to be black. She had 4C hair and to him that meant straight nigga. He learned all about the different types of hair black women had over the years. He didn’t assume they couldn’t have loose coils in general, but his sister came from nigga nuts with the shit that sat on top of her head. Kia kept it in all types of natural styles. She was the earthy vegan type. No man-made chemicals could touch her person and she only ate what she grew. She wore very little clothing often, even when it was cold with beads around her waist, lots of rings on her fingers and she had two nose rings and a septum. Daly didn’t know where the hell that aesthetic came from but again, he supported his sisters through whatever.  

Then there was Erieon, Erie for short, Daly’s baby. TJ and Kia didn’t give into her spoiled ass the way he did. If you asked them, their little sister was selfish, stubborn and plain old evil. Erie had a bad attitude, worse than all of three put together and never liked to admit when she was wrong. The only person she didn’t get out the way with was Daly. Erie was the surprise baby and the most beautiful little dark doll he’d ever seen when his mother first dropped her off. He fell in love with her the moment he had to take her on. By then he’d become an expert at caring for infants. Erie stood out because amongst her sisters she shined like chocolate satin. While her sisters rocked baldies and bushes, Erie loved box braids, and any other type of style that hung pass her butt in individuals. Everything about her was gorgeous. She was the most regular physically but personality wise, Daly had a time with that one. Sometimes he thought she had some mental health issues but seeing Lake go through so much and learning what he could, he swore his sister wasn’t that damaged. Couldn’t be. He simply gave her whatever she wanted and hoped it never went further than having temper tantrums.

When Daly was just a child, if it weren’t for Hassan, he and his sisters would be separated and spread out through the system. It was one of the reasons Daly was so loyal to Lake. Hassan made sure they never had to worry about being taken from one another. The house they lived in, he bought it and fixed it up. They had food and clean clothes every day. When his mother would try to come and interrupt the peace they finally had, Hassan made sure she didn’t any longer. Whatever bad shit people had to say about the late Hassan Porter, he and his sisters were blinded by the fact that he was the only adult to give a fuck about them. Even his mother’s sister didn’t offer a helping hand when she knew how they were living. Hassan didn’t ask any questions or want any answers. He saw a problem and fixed it. Never made Daly feel ashamed or embarrassed either.  

Once at the busy airport, they didn’t even have to park to meet Erie inside. She was sitting outside on her luggage with an obvious attitude.

“Here her ass go with the bullshit,” Kia said getting out the car. She hugged her resistant baby sister while Daly kissed her cheek before getting her stuff. TJ didn’t even get out the car because she was the least interested in what had her mean ass mad already. 

“What’s wrong, Erieon?” Daly asked once they were all back in the car. 

“Nothing.” 

“Erie! Stop bein’ a fuckin’ brat!” TJ turned around to her sister who was in the back seat now with her arms crossed and face balled up. “You always do that like somebody supposed to know what you thinkin’.” 

“Leave me alone.” 

“Erie, what’s wrong?” Daly asked her in a gentle tone making TJ and Kia roll their eyes.

“The flight was just annoying. I don’t like being around people.” 

“I’m sure people don’t like being around your evil ass either,” TJ said. “I’ma pray for you on Sunday demon.” She held the cross around her neck then pulled out a little bottle and splashed Erie. 

“Don’t put that saltwater on me!” 

“You need Jesus!” 

“TJ, stop,” Kia laughed. “Stay sprinkling people with your lil holy water.” 

“She think cause she got baptized that she still not going to hell,” Erie said, wiping her face. “Newsflash, you eat pussy, that’s a sin!” 

“Yo!” Daly yelled. “I don’t wanna hear that shit. All y’all shut the fuck up!” 

Why did he say that? All hell broke loose. They started shouting obscenities his way and he blew his breath wishing he went alone to begin with. Daly loved his sisters to absolute death, but they were a damn handful. How anybody dated one was beyond him. Man or woman. 

“Wit your big head ass!” TJ mushed him. “Don’t be talkin’ to us like that!” 

“I’m stayin’ with you TJ,” Erie said. They were the two who got along the least, but her sister was the most freeing to be around and let her do anything. Even though she was going on twenty-three, Kia and Daly treated her like a baby.

“Then you better act like you know, I ain’t for the walkin’ around my shit with no attitude! And I don’t clean up after grown muhfuckas.” 

“Why you don’t want your own shit?” Daly asked.

“Because I don’t wanna be alone,” Erie said low. “TJ lays with me when I need her.” 

“I can lay with you,” Daly said.

“You never be home.”

Erie saying that made Daly feel bad. If he wasn’t there often it’s because he couldn’t be and when he wasn’t, they had to take care of each other. They didn’t intentionally make him feel bad about it, they simply were dealt a shitty hand. No mother and their brother couldn’t be around due to the fact that he was the provider. It all affected each of them in different ways. 

“I lay with you too.” 

“Kia, your bed bout as big as this back seat. Then you like to sleep on the floor,” Erie said, and they all started laughing. 

Daly gave his sisters the range to live much more extravagant, but Kia didn’t want to. She liked her open space loft, mattress on the floor, no curtains, plants from wall to windows, three pairs of shoes and garden full of natural foods. TJ wanted to work for her own money, so she started a business. Erie was the only one who happily ran through his pockets like no tomorrow. He was okay with him being their backup plan if they ever needed or wanted it.

“Says the homeless one,” Kia rolled her eyes.

“By choice,” Erie retorted. 

After Daly took his sisters out then dropped them all off, he stopped at his old apartment. His phone was ringing off the hook and the only calls he returned were Lake, Wreck and Roddy. Mansion called him about fifty times. When those went unanswered, the texts started. 

Mansion: I know you with another bitch, since you wanna ignore me for her. Stay there, and don’t call me ever again with your hoe ass! 

Mansion: Bitch ass nigga! You really wanna cheat on me? And I bet she don’t look like shit! 

Mansion: I was fuckin’ somebody else anyway!

Mansion: I’m gettin’ a abortion!

Daly ignored each one. Mansion would say anything to get him to argue with her. At first it was funny, but now, he was a little tired of the constant back and forth. It was childish but that’s what he got for messing with a twenty-one-year-old. 

“What?” he asked, finally answering for her.

“Put your bitch on the phone.” 

“I ain’t wit no bitch.” 

“Right, you a hoe ass liar! Come get me right now.” 

“Fuck no! Go tell the nigga you was fuckin’ to get your crazy ass.” 

“I was just sayin’ that,” Mansion whined. “I love you.”

“Obviously,” Daly responded sarcastically and they both started laughing. “You gotta chill bro.” 

“My anger just get the best of me, you know I would never step out on you.” 

“I’m not comin’ tonight, I got shit to do.” 

“Like what?” 

“Shit.” 

“You lyin’.” 

“When the fuck do I ever have to lie? If I’ma be with another bitch, I would tell you.” 

“See that’s what I’m talkin’ bout, the disrespect! I’m not about to let you play in my face with no ugly ass hoe!” 

“Who ugly, Mansion?” 

“SHADIA!” she screamed, and Daly hollered. His on again off again girlfriend for years grinded Mansion’s gears. “You need to tell that dog face bitch you love me and it’s over.” 

“I told her that.” 

“Then why she still feel comfortable to go around talkin’ about my nigga? Why THE FUCK is she postin’ you on her Instagram?” 

“I don’t know.” 

“You know because you keep givin’ that hoe hope!” 

“Ion give nobody shit,” Daly looked at his phone beeping. “Hold on, I’ma call you right back.” He didn’t wait for a response to click over for his sister. “Yea TJ?” 

“Come get Erie before I fuck her up!” 

“What she do that damn fast?” 

“I comes the fuck in my room and her ass changin’ shit around in MY HOUSE!”

“You got it ugly in here!” he heard Erie yell in the back. “Everything don’t gotta be green!” 

“DALONTE!” TJ shouted. “Come get your sister! NOW! Jesus be a high ass fence for Erieon…” she started her prayer for forgiveness then Daly heard a bunch of ruckus. He hung up on everybody tired of dealing with women for one day. It wasn’t even five o’clock yet. He got all the bags out of his trunk and went inside the apartment building. 

When he put his key in the door Tracy was standing right there with an attitude. Out of all the bitch fits, he was least interested in hers. He didn’t tell his sisters about their mother staying there and that’s why he moved because it would upset them. TJ mostly. She hated Tracy to no ending. 

“The fuck you standing there for waitin’ like you caught me cheatin’ or something?” 

“Because you leave me in this place, alone! I ain’t got no phone, no communication to the outside world—” 

“Man, fuck outta here,” Daly said, closing the door. “You lucky you got this.”

“I want to see my children, Dalonte!” 

“They don’t wanna see you.” 

Daly’s mother was a rehabilitated crackhead and ex-prostitute. He wouldn’t have offered her a place to stay but she was currently pregnant and had the nerve to tell him she wanted to do right for her baby. 

“Well it ain’t they choice, y’all is muthafuckin’ kids to me! I don’t care what we been through! I am your mother!” 

“You ain’t shit, Tracy.” Daly took all the bags in the kitchen. “Here, all the shit you wanted. Fuckin’ prenatal vitamins,” he threw them at her. “I know your ass ain’t do none of this shit with us! You want my sisters to see this shit?” He started pouring all the stuff out. “You got it in you to finally care about one of your kids.” 

“He is y’all little brother,” Tracy said, palming her stomach with tears in her eyes. Her oldest child hated her so she knew it couldn’t have been any better with the other three but not seeing them for so long hurt her heart. When she came to him, he didn’t even care at first. They owed her nothing and as a mother Tracy wished she could take every ounce of pain she caused them back. 

“I almost said fuck him too,” Daly laughed, and Tracy smiled. Her son loved her; she knew this because he could be really cold when he wanted to be. There had been times she’d been on the other end of it. 

“I’m sorry for putting all of this on you, if I had another option, I would’ve chosen it. I know it’s not easy seeing me like this,” Tracy expressed to her son sincerely. 

“Whatever, I’m out, I gotta go break up a fight between your kids.” 

“Can you at least tell them I miss them?” 

“I’ll think about it.” Daly closed the door in her face. He stood with his back against the door feeling the way he did when he was younger. So many times, she would even watch him struggle with his sisters. Tracy would be home while he was trying to figure out a way to provide for them. Here she was pregnant again with another baby and needed her son all over again. Déjà vu.

#OnUs #authornina #Nina

[sunmoonandsandsoundtracks]

love me like you do

... ... ...i- ...so this- ah, fuck me. there's too much to say about this. it's been in the works since december. it was meant to be for gaara's birthday, but that didn't happen.

that said, this is hands down the best version and well worth the wait. i have never put half as much effort into editing anything, which might surprise a few of my english teachers, considering how well my essays usually turned out.

this is not my first ever serious attempt at smut, but it is the first i've ever felt ready to publish. if something is awkward in the writing of the more erotic scenes, please, constructive criticism. i tried so hard with this, and then went back and fixed where i thought i tried too hard.

i also did my very best to make the character as relatable as possible for everyone. i researched colors that looked good on all skin colors, i avoided any actions that would indicate a specific body/hair type or height, and i worked out a not too extreme personality. i aim to represent everyone in these characters as best i can. tall, short, curvy, skinny, thick hair, thin hair, long hair, short hair, black, white, brown... the one thing i know i'll probably suck at representing is anything outside american culture. i have little exposure, so i'll have to do more research where i want to include it in my stories. i'm going to do my very best.

huge shout out to my husband. oh my god. i have been through so much that has nothing to do with covid, and he has been so supportive of everything. he sat with me for hours a day, at least a few days a month, while i plotted and vented about this story, helped me work through writer's block, and even read this to give me feedback. seriously. this wouldn't have happened without him. i would have dropped it by may. update 2/14: sequel up!

masterlist

spotify/youtube

word count: 18,222 yes, issa big baby and it would ruin the flow to break it into chapters.

warnings: none

nsfw below the cut! enjoy, and i really hope i convert you all to boss kink, if you didn't already have it.

Monday.

The worst day of the week to almost anyone that works a standard five day, nine to five white collar job. It was the death of the weekend.

One particular Monday was to be the death of you.

You had barely managed to drag yourself into work, and you did so with all the enthusiasm of someone heading to their execution. Hell, your execution would have been more welcome. You anticipated an immediate summons from the second you trudged through the door. That hadn’t happened, and therefore you were kept on the literal edge of your seat, for two unbelievably arduous hours, biting your lip until you saw him, and then everything got so. much. worse.

“My life is over,” you said, volume barely above that of a whisper. Even then, your voice cracked as you dropped your head to your desk, making a sound loud enough to alarm those within a large radius. You didn’t even allow yourself to express your pain in a word, just as a punishment.

“Are you okay?” Matsuri, your coworker and friend that occupied the cubicle to your right asked, forehead wrinkling as she furrowed her brow. Concern for your well being rolled off her in heavy waves.

“No,” you groaned, not even trying to straighten up. “I’m doomed. Done, finished, expired.”

“Whatever it is, I’m sure it’s not bad enough to actually beat yourself up over it.”

You lifted your head a little and turned it just to give her a deadpan expression. “Trust me, it is.”

“Why don’t you tell me, maybe I can help somehow?” She tentatively offered.

“Unless you have a way to magically delete the picture where I’m ninety-five percent naked that I sent our boss by mistake last night, I doubt it.” You returned to your previous position, letting your head hit the surface with a quieter thud than the first time, tempted to do it a few more times. If you managed to do enough brain damage, you hoped to forget the whole debacle. Maybe you could claim that some questionable brain damage was the reason the whole debacle happened in the first place.

Matsuri gaped like a fish for a minute, the opening and closing of her mouth was muted as she grasped at straws for a response before giving up and going back to her task without another word. You didn’t blame her for not wanting to be involved further. Your dignity was six feet under, and just a little over six hours later, your job likely would be too.

A simple slip of the thumb with a dash of carelessness- a miniscule action coupled with a lack of precaution- knocked your world off its axis. You had a circle of friends that were very open and occasionally sent sexy pictures to the group chat. That was the first time you had done so, or thought you had, and it would be the last. You had been hyped about splurging on some sinful lingerie the day before, and while you were all about doing it just for yourself, you wanted to have someone appreciate it with you and on you. Everyone was so supportive when others did it, blowing up the chat with compliments that could only help the confidence of the brave soul who put their body on display.

Was it so wrong to want a little adoration? Apparently it was, because the name of the chat put it just below your boss’s contact in your messaging app, and when you went to hit where to send the indecent photo, you opened the wrong conversation. Lesson learned- always, always, ALWAYS check the contact name before sending. You’d never make that mistake again. How you had made it to that point in your life without making it before was a wonder.

Maybe some mischievous spirit decided things were too good in your life and decided it would be fun to fuck you over.

You spent that whole day ditching, dodging, and ducking whenever you saw or heard any hint of the man who controlled the balance of your life at that time. You were almost home free when-

“Please see me in my office when you’ve finished your work for the day.”

Fuck.

Truth be told, even though your mind said that he was preparing to issue your death sentence, the sound of his voice when he might as well have whispered in your ear after sneaking up on you at your desk in the last twenty minutes before you could clock out had your body buzzing with excitement. Those last twenty minutes were an absolute hell as you were torn between wanting them to move at the speed of molasses, and wishing they would hurry up so you could be alone with a man that, to be perfectly frank, made you want to drool and pant like a bitch in heat.

Yes, the entire situation was made even worse by the simple issue of him not just being your boss with whom you had a friendly work relationship, but the amazingly appealing man that kept coming to mind when you bought the underwear in the problematic picture.

The end came, and you were so strung out from both abject dread and intolerable anticipation. You felt like you had downed ten cups of coffee after not sleeping for a week.

“See you tomorrow?” Matsuri said as she finished gathering her things.

“If he doesn’t have me pack up tonight,” you sighed, surrounded by an air of defeat.

She gave you a sad smile and a pat on the shoulder. “It may not be that bad. You and I both know that he’s kind and understanding. If you make it clear that you had no intention of sending it to him, I’m certain he’ll let it go and just move on.”

“You’re right,” you admitted. He made you imagine him and you in the dirtiest scenarios your mind could conjure, but it was more than just physical desire that had you eager to be around him. He was the best supervisor you’d ever had because of both his work ethic and the kindness with which he treated everyone, subordinate and superior.

He wasn’t the most sociable, and you had noticed times when he was clearly feeling awkward in more casual settings, like company parties, but he tried, and he just exuded energy that drew people in once they realized he wasn’t as tough as some might believe at first glance. You were part of that some, but found out so quickly that he was tender hearted, and patient, and understanding, and appreciative, and… and… and...

You could go on for some time about his positive attributes. You confessed that you were more than a little infatuated as well as lustful, but you weren’t the only one. Most of the women you’d seen him interact with all had the same look in their eyes. They would kill for the chance to love him, and love on him. You were sure you had the same look when he was near.

Without realizing that you had spaced out after answering Matsuri, you came around. She was gone, and it was almost ten minutes later. You were late.

“Shit!” You cried a little too loud as you stood up, straightened your clothes, then rushed as professionally as you could to his office. Though you were already tardy, you made a stop in the break room to get him a cup of coffee. You’d seen him make his own a handful of times, so you knew the right amount of cream to add. Your heart hammered in your chest as you continued on, growing louder in your ears along with the rushing of your blood the nearer you drew. Despite the eager twisting of your stomach, you arrived all too soon for your liking. In your hurry, you didn’t even take a moment to collect yourself before lightly knocking on the once imposing door with a shaky hand. It came out so soft, you doubted he heard anything. That was when you took a moment to breathe and get yourself together. Your body barely listened, but it was a slight improvement, and you could work with that.

Another knock, firmer than before, and then you took a small step back. He didn’t answer immediately, so your eyes began to wander. It seemed somewhat as if you were searching for help. You noted the closed blinds at the front windows to his office. Usually, those fixtures were open until he left for the evening, which, besides being a smart move to avoid any potential misunderstandings or incorrect conclusions whenever he had an employee in for a performance review or such, made him more approachable by allowing everyone to see if they were interrupting anything important. A few times every few weeks, especially around the end of each quarter, he would have them closed during the day as a sign that he was not to be disturbed for anything less than an emergency as he was tasked with paperwork and the like. What constituted an emergency varied by the position someone held. At your level, something had to be on fire, or someone had to be dying to merit an interruption. Even then, you weren’t sure you could be the one to interrupt him.

“Come in.”

You took another breath to steel yourself, then opened the solid wood door and strolled inside, trying to project some composure. Your breath caught for a second as you caught sight of him gazing out the floor to ceiling window that gave him a wondrous view of the city which, at that hour of day during the winter season, was already well lit. His back was enough to get you worked up in more ways than one, and you had to admit that you had it pretty bad. He had his hands in his pants pockets, and his suit jacket was draped over the back of his chair. His posture was stiff, but you were surprised to see him even that casual.

“I-I apologize for making you wait, sir,” you said with a slight verbal stumble as you approached his desk, staying on the proper side.

He barely acknowledged what you said with a slight hum, not even turning to face you for you had no idea how long, but it dragged on for ages. At least it gave you a chance to study him a little more. It was better than sneaking glances when he was least likely to catch you.

He stopped your survey of him when he said your name. “Do you know why I asked you here?”

“Yes, sir,” you answered, gripping the coffee cup that you couldn’t put down because it kept you from fidgeting, and the heat in your hands was comforting. “It’s about what I sent you last night. I’m very aware of how unprofessional that was, but please, understand that it was not intended for you. I never meant to breach not only company policy, but the boundaries of our relationship. It was an accident that only happened because I didn’t check the contact before sending it.”

Silence fell once again, and you were ready to crawl out of your skin. It was agony.

“I take it this other contact you meant to send it to was someone with whom you have an intimate relationship?” He questioned after a painful amount of time, his voice was laced with an emotion you didn’t dare try to label.

You dropped your head in shame, wondering what he thought of you. Would he think worse if you were honest with him? He always got to the bottom of any issue he was presented with, and you’d heard his colleagues praise how much he valued the truth, no matter how bad it was. He didn’t pry where it wasn’t necessary in any situation, but he cared enough to clear up any misconceptions, so he sought out any information he deemed crucial.

It didn’t occur to you to question just why he needed to know anything about the one to whom you intended to send such a scandalous image. You trusted him completely to keep it appropriate.

“No. It was for my friends. I, um, have some very confident friends who are big on body positivity and share a lot more than most people would. I was just... looking for some validation and to be appreciated. I’d never done it before, and I’m never planning to do it again, e-even when I...”

You couldn’t go on. Despite your friends being so open and okay with flaunting their bodies, some of your loved ones were very conservative and would frown greatly upon what you had done, believing that no one should see you in such a state other than someone with whom you were deeply committed and intimate. Some of them held the belief that it should be reserved for marriage. He was so upstanding at work, you feared that even though you knew he wouldn’t condemn you, he wouldn’t want to be associated too closely with you. You had no idea what his personal life was like, what kind of company he kept.

The silence was deafening by that point, and you swore on your grave that you were going to combust if you didn’t get some closure soon. You dared to slowly raise your head and saw him leaning against the window, bracing himself up with an arm over his head.

“I see,” he muttered, immediately clearing his throat.

You stiffened and straightened up at the tone of his voice. Should anyone have asked you what you thought you heard, you wouldn’t have been able to say it out loud. You could barely think it, but part of you was confident that you heard relief in his voice. The same kind of relief you felt and heard in your own voice after finding out that the gorgeous woman you’d seen visit him and bring him lunch was his older sister, and not his girlfriend. Even if she wasn’t, he still could have had one, or he may not have been into women at all, for all you knew, but you were flying high for the following two weeks.

Having the friends you had for as long as you had, had quashed most of what you used to claim was an inbred tendency to disparage yourself, so you weren’t saying that he couldn’t possibly desire you in any way, but unless he saw something in you during your interactions that were strictly work-related, you believed that he wouldn’t. You got to see a lot more of who he was than he saw of you, or so you assumed.

“I completely understand if there’s certain protocol you have to follow in this situation-”

“Have you told anyone else about this?” He deliberately interrupted you, which had never happened before, especially not with such a curt tone. The mix of worry and need returned as the no nonsense attitude pierced through you. You’d seen that attitude employed before, but never where you were directly involved. In fact, you’d never seen it directed at anyone specifically. It was the biggest indication to everyone that the stress was getting to him, and you suspected that it was the last warning someone would get before he snapped if they continued to agitate him.

What would happen if he lost control? How would he vent? What kind of outlets did he use even when he was in control of himself? What you wouldn’t give to know...

A brief clip of him fucking you into oblivion to channel his rage and stress danced through your imagination, which couldn’t have been worse for the given situation.

“J-just my friends outside the company and Ma-Matsuri, sir,” you nearly squeaked as the clean cut sight of his backside was replaced with the mirage of him facing you, those reading glasses he only wore when he had to do paperwork after the sun’s natural light no longer shone through his window perched low on his nose. The top few buttons of his maroon dress shirt that complemented the red of his combed down hair- which you swore varied from ruby to a dusty kind of scarlet to garnet, depending on everything from the lighting to the time of day you saw it- were unbuttoned, the cuffs of his sleeves were rolled up, and the hem was untucked. His black silk tie was loose, hanging lazily against his chest. His black slacks seemed to sit a little lower on his hips, not that you could really tell with the shirt covering the waist line.

You were so completely, wholly, and otherwise indisputably fucked when the clothes on the imaginary him started falling off until he wore nothing but the tie and glasses. It was beautiful. God, it was beautiful, but it was not helping. Guilt over your barely contained lust coursed through you, and it wasn’t just because of him… Okay, maybe it was. However, you were not an animal and you were going to get in control of yourself. There were more important matters at stake than going home unsatisfied and desperate.

Like your job. You just passed your year mark as a technical support agent with the company. Your coworkers had given you a small celebration, letting you know that they were happy to have you as part of the team. He had been there, gifting you a sweet smile that you went home and giggled over that entire night, and adding his praise to the others. You loved your job, though it was far from perfect, and you loved the rest of your team.

Like your blossoming friendship with him. Even if you stayed right where you were with your job, you didn’t want to lose the amicable conversations, or the ease with which you regarded each other.

Like hell you were going to put your desire for what could end up being mediocre or even disappointing sex that may not amount to anything once it was over above the good deal you already had. Even if it was mind blowing, it wouldn’t be worth it if it put the rest at risk.

Focus. Breathe in, breathe out. Breathe in-

“All right. If there are no future indiscretions of this nature, then there is no reason to dwell on it further. We will carry on as if it never happened.”

Breathe out. You breathed out more air than you had taken in with your relieved sigh.

“Thank you so much, sir! I swear that it will never happen again. I’ll make sure of it-”

What happened next was the catalyst that turned what was going to be a night where you went home and bounced between celebrating that you still had a job, with hope that nothing would change between you and him, and whining over how badly you wanted him into.... a night where you didn’t do any of that.

You let out a shrill cry of pain as the still scalding coffee you forgot you were holding for the slightest second soaked through your blouse after splashing on you when you jerked your arms back too quickly. You dropped the cup, spilling the rest onto your feet. At least you didn’t have to worry about where your mind was focused anymore.

It was only then that he turned around, eyes widening in horror as he saw you kicking off your shoes while trying to get your shirt up. He didn’t know what happened, but the noise you made was enough to drive him to help without question. Had anyone been watching and even half way blinked, they would have missed him bolting from his place at the window to you. His hands were steady where yours fumbled as he assisted in the removal of your top.

As soon as your shirt was out of the way, he raced for the nearest office first aid kit for treatment supplies, and grabbed two of the softest rags he could find in the supply closet, soaking one in cool water and wringing it out. Upon returning to you, he got to work gently cleaning and drying where your skin was the most irritated, before applying an Aloe Vera gel that felt incomparably wonderful as it soothed the scalded area. Nothing was said as he knelt down and took care of you, even tending to your feet, with a focused thoroughness and caring tenderness that only added to why you wanted to cry.

A sharp sting that was still fading, utter humiliation, and the realization that it really was more than mere infatuation that you felt for him, that you were seriously falling in love with him with the intensity of a skydiver, brought tears to your eyes. One of those overpowered the other two with ease.

“S-sir,” you spoke, not achieving more than a whisper as emotion grabbed you by the throat. You cleared the blockade of sentiment with a little cough so you could be heard. “Thank y-you. I’m so sorry about the mess on the carpet, I’ll pay to get it cleaned if there’s not a budget or something you can use, and-” You cut off and looked over at his desk, not seeing anything alarming, but you were beside yourself with worry anyway. “Oh no, did I get any on your desk? God, I hope not. What if it got on something important? I’m so, so sorry-”

Your fretting was interrupted by a gentle finger pressed to your lips- when did he stand up?- and your eyes met what you’d say was likely the softest gaze you’d ever seen. Those bright eyes that almost seemed to glow peered directly into your own, and you swore your spirit left your body. Your warm breath blew out around the digit that rested against the plush cushions of your mouth as you tried to avoid hyperventilating.

“Are you okay?” He questioned, voice full of concern. “It doesn’t look too bad, but if you think you need it, I can take you to the hospital.”

His hand dropped, allowing you to speak, but you only covered your mouth with your own hand as you choked on a sob and tears filled your eyes. He was so kind, so genuine, and with how tense you’d been the whole day, fearing the worst, it was the straw that broke the camel’s back. You felt so many things at once, and not even half of them made sense.

Being a man who knew more about rocket science than he did about how to appease an upset woman- the only thing he picked up from having a sister like his was to shove copious amounts of chocolate at her and otherwise stay clear unless she made a specific request, but that didn’t seem to be apt for the situation- he waited patiently, and silently, until you gathered yourself. A slight nod succeeded by a sniffle and deep breath answered his question.

“I’m so very sorry, sir,” you said, your voice heavy with exhaustion, head lowered, eyes closed. You were ready to go home and deny until you could forget as much of what had happened from the moment you took that picture to the moment you left the office as you possibly could. “This is a very compromising position that could have been avoided if I had exercised a sliver of caution or intelligence before sending that picture, and just now, if I hadn’t gotten-”

“They were accidents,” he cut you off for the second time, his tone curt.

“Yes, but they were preventable accidents,” you argued, determined to take the blame you felt you deserved. “Again, if I had-”

“What matters is that I understand that I was not the intended recipient, and that you are all right.”

You pinched your bottom lip between your teeth until you pierced it enough to result in a drop or two of blood, drawing some satisfaction from the pain, intent on giving yourself some punishment. A hand on your bare shoulder made you raise your head to see him staring at you again.

“Give me just a minute to finish up here, then I will take you home or to the hospital. Do you feel that you can cover up without causing any pain?”

Only then did your partial state of undress hit you. Fuck. The picture was bad enough, but because you had never changed out of that new underwear set you had wanted to show off, he was seeing in all glory of the burgundy strapless elastic floral lace bra that cinched between your breasts where it drew the eye with a large, lightweight, golden diamond shaped glass rhinestone. You might as well have just dropped your skirt to show off the matching lace briefs.

“Yes, sir,” you answered, unable to contain the quiver in your voice, eyes darting from one side to the other and back as you tried to avoid seeing whatever discomfort or displeasure he might be trying to hide from you. That lasted only a minute, until you came to a hard stop to see him offering his own starched shirt to you. There may or may not have been the quickest rush of disappointment when you saw the long sleeve black undershirt he had on, but it was gone when you noticed how form fitting that shirt was. Some higher power, be it a deity or karma, finally decided to throw you a bone.

He was on the leaner side, which you’d always suspected, but hadn’t seen much of because of the loose shirts and jackets he wore around the office. That said, the undershirt was a gift that more than hinted at the muscles that formed the contours of his firm chest as well as a pack of abs. You needed to find out when, where, and how he worked out.

Your face heated as you accepted his offering and put it on. Once in the privacy of your apartment, upon finishing your moping over everything that had gone wrong, you were going to be spilling every detail to your friends. They’d laugh, cheer for you, and- no matter how baseless their suggestions were- speculate that he had a thing for you. Like you were special. Like he wouldn’t treat anyone in your position the exact same way.

“Thank you, sir. This is so kind of you.”

He felt awkward and unsure of how to respond. but he gave a nod to show that he heard you before turning his back to you to go around the desk. It was all he could do. The wires running around his brain crossed whenever he even thought about setting his eyes back on you, in his shirt, wearing that cursed underwear that had him sweating profusely from the second he laid eyes on that damned picture.

He could only wonder if he was having some sort of dream when he opened that message. That thought was later disproved when his mind began to wander and he saw an apparition of you in his kitchen. Your lips were curled in an inviting smile, and he was aroused in a way he hadn’t been... well, ever. The apparition disappeared with a dose of caffeine- to wake up his exhausted mind, at two in the morning, that did nothing to help his restless body- but the picture was still on his phone. He’d be lying if he said he’d never thought of you in a context outside of work, but the way he was thinking of you that night and, to his embarrassment and horror, the following day was reprehensible.

Asking you to his office with intentions to clear up the issue was not easy for him, especially when he found that the only time he had to meet with you was after hours. All he could think of was you in that lingerie that made him realize he had a taste for that type of clothing- to be fair, the style of clothes you wore to work every day made him realize he had a taste for clothing on anyone else at all- and it made him avoid you as long as he possibly could, which was until twenty minutes before the end of the day. He couldn’t handle another night without some sort of closure.

Then that whole fiasco happened. He had been so focused on taking care of you, from when he heard you cry out to when he offered you his shirt- which he hadn’t the slightest idea of how bad an idea that was- nothing registered beyond making sure you were okay. When the adrenaline had slowed and the worry had ebbed, he was left staring at you, a hunger that had nothing to do with food rising within him, and if he didn’t put some distance between your bodies as well as distract himself somehow, he wasn’t sure that he would be able to keep himself from seeking something to appease that hunger. Even a man as disciplined as him had only so much restraint.

He removed his reading glasses and set them down on the desk, then his hands flitted over the documents he had out, placing them into the appropriate folders and stacking those on top of each other. As he opened the drawer to put them away, he spotted the gift box under his desk that contained a fine, well aged red wine along with a pair of stemless wine glasses cushioned by styrofoam that were gifted to him by his managers that day for his birthday, with the wish that he celebrate with a good friend or someone special. He didn’t tell them that he really wasn’t a wine drinker, or an alcohol drinker in general. He only ever had a drink for special occasions, and he supposed that’s what that bottle would be reserved for, but-

“Would you care for a drink?” He found himself offering before he could fully process the decision.

Your eyes widened slightly. It wouldn’t have surprised you in the least if he hadn’t said another word that wasn’t purely out of courtesy to you the rest of the night. What kind of drink he meant tickled your curiosity, because you noticed that he never drank at office parties, and only once or twice out of the handful of times that he had joined your team out to celebrate a birthday or such.

“Oh, I... You don’t... I-I mean,” you stuttered, fidgeting with your fingers as you struggled to find the right words. You only needed three. “Yes, thank you.”

“Forgive me, if I’ve made you uncomfortable,” he rushed to apologize while maintaining his composure as he reached for the box. “I have some wine here that I know I won’t drink much of and I just thought that you’ve clearly had a trying day. That’s what I’ve heard a lot of people say they enjoy when they’ve been stressed. .”

“I take it you don’t count yourself among that group,” you muttered with the tiniest smile.

His eyes finally shifted to you when he placed the box on top of his tidied desk.

“You would be right,” he confirmed, opening it and pulling out the contents, one by one. There was even a corkscrew. Either that was sold as a well stocked gift box, or his managers were extra thoughtful to make sure he had everything he needed to make use of their gift. “I only ever drink socially, for special occasions, and even then, I try to be sparing.”

“I can understand that. I’m sure everyone has seen someone get drunk enough to put them off heavy drinking. That is, if they aren’t the person everyone else sees get drunk enough to be put off.”

He couldn’t resist the chuckle that originated from his chest. “I suppose that’s true. I’ve seen a few people like that.”

“So have I. A few of my friends make that a bit of a habit. They make for good stories, right?” You replied with a girlish giggle that immediately had you biting your lip in embarrassment.

He didn’t react to it at all, allowing you to relax a bit. You watched as he opened the bottle. You enjoyed wine well enough, but you didn’t drink it often. You had your taste in lower priced beverages and stayed faithful to that, only occasionally indulging in something a little more expensive every now and again. Your eyes strayed to his arms, and you noticed how they tensed when he used the corkscrew. There was a bit of defined muscle there, and once again, the idea of watching him at the gym hit you. That, and the idea that the undershirt truly was a gift. You’d never get to see the finer workings of his body in action under the shirt you were wearing.

God, you needed help, you realized as your throat ran dry from a different thirst than the kind that wine could satisfy.

“Here.” He held out one of the glasses to you, and you accepted it, almost robotically.

“Thank you, sir,” you muttered before sipping from it.

He nodded once more in acknowledgment and took a sip of his own. He didn’t react to the taste, so he was either accustomed to it, or he had a face that was well practiced in maintaining stoicism. You wouldn’t be surprised if either or both turned out to be true. The ticking of his clock was grating on your nerves, and you had to put great effort into not shaking like a newborn fawn.

“S-so, is today a special occasion?” You ventured to ask, cursing your inability to keep your voice from trembling. “Or are you just kind enough to drink to keep me company?”

His lips curled into a slight smile. “I suppose you could argue that it’s a special occasion, though I try not to make it public knowledge.”

“It’s your birthday, isn’t it?” You guessed with a light laugh. “That’s hardly fair. I know all the teams that you oversee would have loved to wish you a happy birthday. I’m sure they wouldn’t have made a big deal of it, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“It’s not that I’m worried about anything, I just don’t care to be reminded of it more than I have to be. My family and friends do that well enough.”

The answer was disheartening. You understood wanting to have only a small celebration, that was a matter of taste, but in your personal experience, anyone that didn’t care to acknowledge their birthday had at least one ruined for them in the past. It might not have been a deeply traumatizing reason, but it could have been. Regardless, you hated to think that the man before you had suffered anything at all to make him take such a reluctant attitude toward his special day.

“I see. I’m sorry, sir. I didn’t mean-”

“It’s all right. You couldn’t have known, could you?”

You gave a modest shake of your head before taking a larger drink. Your mind blanked on any conversation starters, which you figured was just as well, since after the sad revelation, you were sure that you’d be tripping over your tongue too much to articulate any that you did conjure. A subdued silence overtook the two of you, and you could only look out the tinted window- or pretend to, as the fluorescent light from the ceiling fixtures bounced off it and blocked your view with your own blurred out reflection- as you drank mindlessly. Sip. Sip. Si-

You had emptied your glass. You used your thumb to wipe any drops that had caught on your lip. The thought to go delicately wash it out so he could put it back in the fancy box crossed your mind, and you were about to offer when he picked up the bottle and offered a refill. One more glass couldn’t hurt, you reasoned as you thanked him.

It felt like you entered a time loop as you downed your next glass, doing exactly as you had done with the first, except you were daring enough to risk glances at him as he stared out the window. Could he see out any better from his angle than you could? Did it matter, or did the light trick you into thinking you saw his eyes glaze over in thought, suggesting he wasn’t seeing anything at all?

“Sir, am I keeping you?” You asked, drawing his attention from either the window or whatever was going through his mind. “I’m sure Shinki is eager for you to get home.”

“You aren’t keeping me,” he answered, appreciating the acknowledgement of his adopted son he had mentioned to you a few months prior at the company’s anniversary celebration. “No one is expecting me for another hour.”

“Because of the extra work you have to sort through. So I’ve just distracted you from your job. Great. I can’t seem to stop messing up when it comes to you lately, can I?” You said, following up with a bitter laugh.

If anyone asked, you would truthfully tell them you were not a lightweight. Not in the stripping, too drunk to care that you’re performing karaoke when you can’t sing, throwing up then blacking out only to wake up with a hangover so bad anyone that looked at you instantly got a headache way. However, it took an embarrassingly little amount of alcohol to get you buzzed. You’d still be highly functional, but your tongue was loosened enough to get off the leash your brain typically had it on, and your inhibitions- and shame- dropped enough for you to do some of the things that your friends encouraged you to do. The longer the silence persisted, the more you drank, and the more of a disconnect there was between your impulse control and your body.

There wasn’t a whole lot on your mind as you eased up, but one question popped up, and as you emptied your glass a second time, you found yourself voicing it.

“Is this the first time someone has accidently sent you a picture like that?”

You wondered if he was so far absorbed in his thoughts that he hadn’t heard you. You wouldn’t have repeated the question, you had enough awareness and control to keep yourself from pushing it, and had given up on getting an answer when his voice pierced the silence.

“This is the first time I believe it truly was an accident.”

You weren’t surprised in the least, but you wondered what the reasons were behind the pretense that it was an accident. Were they all employees trying to take a shot, but cover their asses too? Cowards.

“What?” He looked at you, puzzled by the last word that you thought you had only thought, but had actually spoken aloud.

“O-oh, ah- I...” You were thrown, so even though it wasn't embarrassing or untoward, you grasped at straws for an answer. “I-I just meant that if the others did it intentionally, they should have been ready to face the consequences, not run away like cowards with that excuse.”

He hummed in agreement, then turned away from you once more. It was growing irritating and almost insulting, but you rationalized that he was trying to preserve what little professionalism the situation had left. There were other potential reasons, such as he felt it would be disrespectful, he was uncomfortable, he thought it would make you uncomfortable, or... well, maybe he had someone that wouldn’t appreciate it if, for any reason more than your previous emergency, his eyes did linger on you.

“Would you care for one more before we go?”

Your eyes raised from where they had been glaring a flaming hole into his desk, which you hadn’t been consciously doing, to see him partially turned in your direction, but still not looking at you. Why wouldn’t he- No, you didn’t need to know exactly why he wouldn’t. If nothing else, he was as much the gentleman he appeared to be by the light of day, and that was enough reason for you.

“At the risk of sounding like an alcoholic, yeah,” you joked, almost slapping your hand to your forehead, feeling stupid.

“I don’t think three glasses of wine makes one an alcoholic,” he pointed out.

“You’re probably right. An alcoholic likely wouldn’t be able to stop at three, and three is definitely where I draw the line.” You handed him your glass for your second refill. His eyes landed only where they needed to and you silently sighed. For all the reasons in the world, it would still be nice to know he found you at least somewhat appealing to look at.

“Forgive me for asking,” he spoke up as he handed you your glass back. “I noticed your- ah- interesting marking.”

So he did notice something about your body before closing himself off. He was insanely observant, you’d noticed, and it didn’t surprise you that he’d picked up on that little detail.

“Oh, well, I-I got it right after my closest friends and I all turned twenty-one,” you explained, using the glass in your hand as a focal point. You liked having the kanji for love tattooed in red on the flesh over your heart, but you had to admit it was really cheesy.

“Why that particular one?” You wondered if the wine was getting to him as well, because he hadn’t seemed so eager to talk a moment prior.

You tried to sum up the reason without diving into a whole anecdote. “To put it simply, it was the only thing we could agree on. I’m the only one who got this particular one, but the others got sentimental meanings as well, and we couldn’t agree on the font or language, which we wanted to match. We each have our own interests in fields of study, and while it isn’t the most interesting culture to each of us, Asian culture is the most interesting culture we agreed on based on interests. Art, history, language, mythology, storytelling, traditions, cuisine... It was the best compromise.”

Your lips shifted from a shy smile to a victorious smirk. “I won that one, honestly, convincing them to go with kanji, because while linguistics wasn’t my major or even my minor, it was one of my passions, and I studied as much as I could, whether I learned the language or not. In terms of writing, Japanese is the most complicated system, and I’m just fascinated.”

You blushed and shrunk into yourself a bit when you realized you were talking to a Japanese man. “I-I probably don’t need to tell you that, though.”

If you’d been looking at him, instead of at your drink, you’d see the tease of an amused smile pulling at his lips and the way he leaned toward you just the slightest. “I wasn’t aware that it was the most complicated, but it doesn’t surprise me.”

“Y-yeah.” You indulged a glance, then looked back down.

A compressing weight bore down on you with the silence, and you were ready to be put out of your misery. You were not drunk enough to endure the awkward discomfort any longer. It was time for your favorite liquor to finish what the wine had started, so you politely sipped the rest of your glass faster than the first two.

“Are the friends you got the tattoo with the ones-”

“Some of them,” you cut him off as abruptly as he had broken the silence. It was clear where that question was going, and despite having the slight buffer that gave you some comfort, you couldn’t handle hearing him bring up the unintentional sext again.

He suppressed his chuckle with a sip. He was just finishing his first half glass, which made you feel like you had a drinking problem with how quickly you polished off three.

“I didn’t take you for the type to be interested in things like tattoos, to be frank,” you said, your mouth running off again, immediately biting your lip to keep from saying more.

He couldn’t have been more grateful for the natural stoicism that kept the quirk of his lips from evolving into a smug smirk. You knew nothing about him outside of work, which was how he had preferred to keep it with most, but it also entertained him to envision your reaction to just what kind of track record he had. Tattoos weren’t even half of it.

“You’d be surprised,” he chuckled, drawing your gaze to him.

Then he did it. He deliberately combed a hand through his hair, disheveling his bangs, showing hints of the tattoo on his forehead covering up a scar he’d given himself as a child.

“No way,” you gasped, and you hadn’t even seen just what it was yet. He pushed his bangs completely out of the way, and you were sure you went into shock. “Oh my god.”

He allowed himself the smirk that he’d held back. If only he could show you the rest of them.

“Mine is not as sentimental as yours, but it’s interesting that we both have the same one.”

You gave a mute, wide-eyed nod. You could only think of one thing- were there more?

He put his hair to right and subtly studied you. It was clear to him that you were like many others who, based on the personality he showed them, thought him to be a choir boy with an unblemished record. That was just how he liked it, but he was so tempted to roll the sleeves of his undershirt up a bit to see how you reacted to his sleeves of tattoos. How wide would your eyes go? How far would your jaw drop? Would your face flush? It was a far too tempting experiment, but he resisted.

“How are you feeling?” He inquired when you didn’t make any noise, looking deceptively innocent.

“F-fine,” you answered, feeling a little light headed. It was the wine’s fault, you argued with yourself. That’s right. It was all the wine’s fault that you were acting like a brainless bimbo... Yeah, you didn’t believe that half-assed excuse.

“I mean your feet and your stomach,” he clarified, still enjoying your reaction as he composed himself as if nothing had happened.

“O-oh, um, it- I’m fi- They’re good,” you managed to spit out after searching for words that should not have been so difficult to find.

“So I should take you home then?”

“No, sir, I can get myself home,” you insisted. You put the glass that you’d forgotten you’d been holding on the desk gently, stood up, and started working on the rest of the buttons you’d left undone, but as your arm brushed your side, it pressed the material to your tender skin, and you flinched. He noticed.

“I’m sure you could, but I’d feel better if I made sure you got there myself.”

“Sir, I’ve already caused you enough trouble. Let me leave with what dignity I have left,” you nearly begged, which stirred something unpleasant in his chest.

“You shouldn’t feel that way,” he argued. “I’m concerned. You’re still in pain, and I can get you home faster.”

“Theoretically, you could, but with the streak of luck I’ve had in the last twenty-four hours, I seriously believe that I’ll do something to cause you to get in a wreck on the way, which means neither of us would be getting home for quite awhile, rendering your argument inaccurate,” you countered as you tried not to whimper when the smooth material grazed the heated skin of the right side of your stomach.

He stood and said your name in a way that made you freeze, paralyzed by the authority in his tone. Before you could return to your senses, he rounded the desk to stand in front of you, and you weren’t sure if it was the air of command he exuded, but something was controlling you like a puppet on strings as you turned toward him, your eyes locking with his.

“Si-sir?”

“I am going to examine your burn, and if I feel it’s safe, I will take you home,” he stated with such gravity, it almost knocked you to the floor. It was a little exciting, especially because you knew he wouldn’t fire you if you defied him. Still, you were powerless to do such a thing, so you complied instead.

It was like a caress as he moved his shirt out of the way to see the skin that, to his relief, was not blistering, or showing any signs of being anything more than a superficial issue. He very gently brushed his fingers over it as his eyes went to your face to see the extent of your pain. You winced, but it wasn’t strong. He retrieved the gel from the first aid kit he’d left on the desk and applied another layer on the dry skin that had absorbed the first one, then checked your feet, which seemed to have received minimal damage. When he stood in front of you once again, you avoided looking at him.

“Thank you, sir, but please, let me just get a cab home. I can’t stand the thought of causing you any more trouble.”

“And I can’t stand the thought of not seeing you safely home,” he sighed, then gave in. “I will see you into a cab, and I would appreciate it if you texted me when you get home.”

“Sir, me texting you is the whole reason we’re in this mess,” you said with a bark of laughter.

“Then call me. Just promise to let me know, or you’re not going anywhere without me,” he demanded, sending a little chill down your spine. It was evident in his tone that he genuinely cared about you, but you could write it off as just being in a professional sense. If you had just lifted your eyes to connect with his, you’d see the smoldering embers in his gaze that would tell you otherwise.

“All right. I promise to text you. I apologize that if by some freak accident, you somehow end up with something even more inappropriate than what you already have. No matter how much I want to, I’d never send anything to you that would put either of our jobs at risk-”

“How much you want to?” He cut you off.

You gasped, realizing your major faux pas. Hands fidgeting like they were on steroids- you really needed to do something about that- you searched the recesses of your mind for something you could use to save the situation.

“No, no, th-that’s not... I meant.... How much I may want to, in a hypothetical case... Oh, god,” you finished with a pathetic groan as you covered your face, burning with embarrassment that put the heat of your injury to shame. The speed and efficiency with which you crafted the knot of your own noose would have made any boy scout envious.

While your fears from earlier came crashing back into you with the force of a meteor, he couldn’t take it anymore. You had been well out of his reach for multiple reasons before that day, and he was fine with that, until that godforsaken text. He’d optimistically planned to clear things up, then hopefully return to normal before too long. No one that could bring down any consequences on either of you, but especially you, would need to know. Crazy incidents that sounded like they belonged in some ridiculously written plot aside, he was still aiming for that, but then-

“Si-sir?” You muttered, still not looking at him.

You put a foot over the line, unintentionally taunting him when you inadvertently confessed that you wanted to intentionally send him something like that. If the circumstances were right, he figured. What would dictate those circumstances? Would you do it out of the desire to be intimate with him? You weren’t like many of the others who’d come onto him. Over the year you’d been employed under him, he felt like he’d gotten a good sense of who you were as a person, and that sense told him you’d stick around for more than one night- if even that long in the cases of some he’d seen sneaking out of his brother’s room when they were younger- of passion. You’d give him what he needed, which was a relationship of substance. He was confident that he wouldn’t be nearly as attracted to you as he was if he didn’t feel you could and would commit to him. And he was really attracted to you, in many ways, as evidenced by the delusion and other reactions the whole mess had brought about in him.

“Well, I’m going to go now. I’ll let you know when I get home, so you don’t have to worry about me.”

Even if you didn’t return his affections in the same way- but if you didn’t, why would you be willing to send him such an intimate image? You made it clear that you wouldn’t send it to just anyone, so... you had to feel the same way, right?

Damn it, it was just frustrating him, and he swore that he was going to get closure. He technically had for the issue he’d intended, only to have a different one plop in his lap. He could go home and repeat the previous night, or he could get answers and deal with them, for better or for worse.

“What did you mean by that?” He asked, coming off as more demanding than he meant to. You were halfway to the door when he spoke, and against your better judgment, you stopped.

“No-nothing,” you responded as you shook, back still to him as you clutched the shirt in your hands, not worried about wrinkling it, since you planned to get it dry cleaned that weekend, if not sooner. “I’m sorry, please just write it off.”

“If you tell me what you meant, I’ll let it go,” he promised, needing to hear the truth.

You clenched your hands into fists and your eyes shut as the hot sting in your eyes warned you of even more impending tears. Forget going home and getting drunk, you were going home to cry like a baby into your pillow until sleep took you, hoping you made it that far before you broke down. You couldn’t take anymore stress, humiliation, or slip-ups that could cost you everything you had built in your current occupation.

You grit your teeth, warring with yourself before caving. “I meant that I wish we were in a relationship where you want me to send things like that to you… but mostly one where I can be honest about how I feel about you, and hopefully, you’d feel the same.”

You took a deep breath. “I’m sorry, sir. I’ll put in for a department transfer first thing in the mor-”

“I won’t approve it,” he cut you off for a third time. He was getting pretty comfortable with doing that, and it likely would have irritated you to some small degree under normal circumstances. “If you truly want to transfer, report me for misconduct so that you don’t need my approval.”

“For what misconduct?” You snapped, turning around. “As far as I can see, the only one guilty of that is me! Why won’t you approve it?”

“Because you’re an invaluable part of this team,” he said, his face giving away nothing.

“It’ll function fine without me,” you retorted.

“Why does what you said in the last thirty seconds mean that you have to transfer?”

You barked out a sardonic laugh. “Why does me basically telling my direct supervisor that I have romantic feelings for him mean that I have to transfer? Seriously? As if that’s not enough, look at everything else. Are you really going to be able to pretend that none of this happened?”

You just covered your eyes and hung your head. “All right, fine. If this has no effect on you, then I won’t make a bigger deal out of it than you want to. I’m going home now, before I do even more damage to myself, or god forbid, you. Goodnight.”

“You really think that’s all we are?” He said before you could turn away again. “I was under the impression that we had reached a level of friendship.”

You sniffled and rubbed at your eyes, smudging your makeup a bit. “Okay, yeah, we do have that. Tell me tomorrow if you still feel that way, again, if you’re able to pretend that this sorry mess didn’t happen.”

He set his jaw in determination and narrowed his eyes. “I won’t be able to because I have no desire to erase what has happened.”

“And why is that?” You questioned in exasperation, wondering why you weren’t kicking off your heels and walking out barefoot to give your poor feet some relief- Oh, yeah. Because the soreness called at least some attention away from the other aching parts of you, like your heart and your head.

So many answers flew through his mind, and none of them felt right. What if he said the wrong thing and you finally broke? What if he pushed you too far and you did push for a transfer? What if you quit? His rational mind said that you weren’t the type to quit over something like that, but you would try to get away from him within the company at the very least. What was the right answer?

“Let me clean up here, then I’ll see you into a cab.”

That was not it. That was not it at all.

“Fine,” you weakly agreed, too defeated to argue any further. “Here, I’ll go rinse those out.”

You approached his desk once more and reached out to pick up the short glasses, but one hand was restrained by another on your wrist. Turning your head, you fixed him with a curious stare, wondering what more he could possibly have to say. He said nothing. Even after a good half a minute of wondering what the hell was he thinking, neither of you said anything.

Of course, by that point, it was impossible to speak when your mouth was sealed by his. He was so not following standard protocol with the way his lips moved against yours. Not at all. For a dream-like moment of indulgence, neither were you as your eyes closed and your hands floated up to land on his shoulders.

Then you woke up.

“Sir!” You gasped as you pulled away abruptly, stepping backwards. “Wh-what... Why... We can’t-”

“I was responding to the confession I all but forced from you. I couldn’t think of the right way to tell you why I don’t want to forget any of ‘this sorry mess,’ as you put it. We can.” he said, answering what went through your mind as if he could read it.

What are you doing? Why did you kiss me? We can’t do this.

“B-but I can’t… Do you… How?” You sputtered.

He said your name with a reverence and tenderness that almost made you cry again as he stepped forward, gripped your chin between his thumb and forefinger, and made you look at him. “Tell me, do you want this?”

“God, yes!” you gave in, “but what about company policy? I don’t want to lose my job, and I know you don’t want to lose yours!”

To your frustration and confusion, the slightest laugh came from him. At your expression that conveyed the utter lack of understanding, and even some injured pride, he smiled softly.

“That’s the official rule, yes, but there are many relationships between employees of different positions. The unwritten rule is that as long as it is kept discreet and genuine, the higher ups look the other way. It has obviously been working as far as discretion goes, because most have the same idea you do, which is generally how we’d like to keep it. I’ve heard of very few that resulted in firing before something changed that allowed them to go public,” he explained.

“You’re kidding. So that section of the employment contract that everyone has to sign dictating that there can be no unprofessional relationships between employees that aren’t on the same rung of the corporate ladder is just a smoke screen?” You questioned.

“Essentially."

You looked off to the side, processing. “I see. That explains a lot, actually.”

It certainly explained how people you knew to be strict rule followers didn’t seem to try nearly hard enough to hide-

Wait, wha-?

Your head whipped back in his direction as you covered your mouth with a hand to hide the gaping hole it had become when your jaw hit the floor.

“So, what you’re saying is that you want a relationship... with me?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying,” he confirmed, face void of anything that would give you misgivings that he was less than deadly serious. Everything about him suggested that he didn’t take much lightly, but the way he removed himself from any conversation that drifted in the direction of romantic relationships had given you the impression that they were a topic that he kept very close to his chest for whatever reason.

“Sir-”

“I have a name,” he said, his deep voice floating through the still air. “I wonder if you remember what it is, given I’ve never heard you use it.”

That was true. Everyone else called him ‘sir’ less than half the time. It was usually Mister Sunano, or even his first name. He didn’t really care what he was called. Being addressed informally at work was nothing compared to the echoes of what had been shouted at him in his youth... But you were the exception.

Your eyes met his as you slowly lowered your hand, face far more composed than a second before. Yes, you’d barely referred to him as anything but ‘sir’ even outside work, let alone called to him with anything more familiar. Your friends teased you that he was either going to be turned off completely by your refusal to establish more intimacy through the typical convention of using his name, or be so turned on that if he ever got his hands on you, he’d make sure you understood just why you couldn’t use that particular title in public any longer. You told them to put a sock in it. You had originally been too intimidated to call him anything other than that, and then it just became habit after a month or two, and then when your little crush became harder and harder to ignore, you were afraid that increasing familiarity would break down the cage you were trying to keep your heart in-

When you didn’t respond for an agitating amount of time- if only you’d had the presence of mind to take the tiniest amount of sadistic pleasure out of watching him suffer in imposed silence- he sighed. “If you are still uncomfortable with the idea of going against the relationship rule, I understand. We will pick up tomorrow as if none of this ever happened. I can’t promise that I’ll forget, and I apologize if that makes things difficult. If you honestly wish to transfer, I will-”

“Gaara, please stop talking,” you softly commanded while you tried to think, cutting him off. When it hit you that you had interrupted him- jumping straight to using his first name at that- and again said what was on your mind without it passing through your mental security check, you tensed, starting to panic again, thinking that the world was seriously going to end because, dear god, you slipped up again and-

and then you reached your stress limit, and it all just came crashing down.

A house constructed of verbal filters, social barriers, professionalism, worries, and excuses in your mind just collapsed onto the foundation that had been cracking since the second you caught yourself thinking of him as anything other than your boss. Your throbbing heart was visible through those cracks, leaving you exposed, your eyes peering into his, completely unguarded. What was left for you to hide?

His eyes widened in mild shock at the angel’s sigh that was his name passing through your lips. He really had no idea what he had been missing, and he wasn’t sure he’d be able to go back to hearing ‘yes, sir’ and ‘no, sir’ all the time.

“Again,” he muttered. “Say it again.”

You mouthed it, but nothing came out, so you tried again, and it was a just barely audible whisper.

It was enough.

There was no way to tell if one of you kissed the other first that second time. The pair of you were akin to an erupting volcano that oozed a year’s worth of sparks from each interaction, a year’s worth of affection that only showed when your masks slipped just slightly, a year’s worth of stolen glances that the other never saw, a year’s worth of attraction that made blood boil and cheeks flush... It flowed as smoothly as molten lava, and possessed even more heat.

Your hands gripped his shoulders as his hand returned to the back of your neck and the other rested lightly on your hip, feeling the familiar texture of his shirt. He was tempted to break the kiss so that he could stare at you and finally appreciate what was in front of him without guilt, but your lips on his felt too good.

Slowly, and reluctantly, you separated when the need for air became priority, but just enough for your eyes to lock with his, at least until those beautiful bright blue-greens ran over you from head to toe and back up. It made you feel both thrilled, and a little self-conscious.

“S-sir-”

“Unless I tell you otherwise, please, use my name when we’re alone,” he requested in a feather soft tone.

You acquiesced with a nod.

“Gaara,” you whispered. You’d forbidden yourself to get comfortable with even thinking his name before, but you knew right then that it was going to be all too easy to get used to saying it.

He smiled, the sweetest expression that made your heart pound.

“So,” you started, blinking at him with a face that couldn’t have been more innocent. “Does that mean I can send you pictures of a similar nature to the last one on purpose?”

His smile immediately fell, and it was obvious where his mind was when his eyes fell to your covered chest, then returned to your face, which was morphing from the naïve expression to a cat that ate the canary grin. His stomach sank and he felt a thrill of his own as he realized that he was going to see an entirely new side of you.

“And will there be opportunities to show you my little splurges in person without burning myself in the process?”

Your hands went to the top button of the shirt and undid it, then went to the second, and the third, and so on. When you sadly confessed that you were in love with him, you thought you were going to be going home, a pathetic woman that didn’t know how you survived that day, nor how you would survive the following days. There was no way on earth, in heaven or hell, that you would have believed you would end up kissing him, and then teasing him only seconds later. Blaming the stress and following relief made you feel less crazy.

“Speaking of that injury, would you mind looking at it one more time, please? One more layer of that gel should get rid of the stinging for good,” you requested politely, shrugging the shirt off when you finished unbuttoning, exposing the alluring lingerie you’d been so eager to show someone...

His eyes couldn’t have gotten any bigger, and he wasn’t sure if it was because he was as shocked as you had been when he first kissed you, or because they were trying to drink in the sight of you to commit to memory. It was so much better than an illusion. He found himself nodding and kneeling down to inspect your skin that he was relieved to see was much better. The scalding wouldn’t leave anything that wouldn’t heal in a week. He brushed his fingers over it, light as a feather, and checked your face for a reaction. There wasn’t even a wince.

“You look like you’re going to kiss it better,” you joked.

He raised a non-existent eyebrow- the theories in the office regarding that particular topic were ridiculous- then the corner of his lips quirked up, almost looking mischievous, before they were pressed to your abdomen, where it was still a bit warmer than normal from the injury. Endorphins rushed from the point of contact through your whole body, eliciting a soft moan. You were hit by a huge wave of disappointment when he pulled away, only to have it dry up when you felt another kiss placed a little higher. More and more came, soft and slow, and it made you shudder and gasp as he moved up your torso, until he reached the bra, staring it in the giant rhinestone. The look on his face made you realize that you were going to get to see a new side of him.

“Did that hurt?” He asked, teasing you back. You gulped and shook your head. He rested his whole hand over where the worst of the damage had been. “How about this?”

“No, it doesn’t.”

“I’d say that you’ll survive.” He faintly smirked.

“I’ll trust you on that,” you said, suddenly feeling a little like a mouse staring up at a cat as it licked its lips.

“I think I better check again, just to be safe,” he muttered. He touched his fingers to your navel, the furthest extent of the damage, and ran them up your stomach to stop right at the gold colored diamond in between your breasts. “Did that hurt?”

“No,” you whimpered, realizing how touch starved you were. Your hands shook and your right one grabbed his wrist. His eyes narrowed in concern, afraid he’d crossed a line, then relaxed when you nervously pressed it to your chest. When you teased him with the little strip show with his shirt, you felt emboldened and in control, but he managed to turn the tables, making you feel like a shy school girl. You didn’t think he intended to do so, but it didn’t matter. It wasn’t a time for games.

The reverberating staccato of his heartbeat in his ears was unmatched as he beheld the softness beneath his hand. You were so beautiful, and it excited him to have you within reach, but it was all so new to him. He wasn’t sure how to proceed.

He pulled his hand away, and only by great self control were you able to hold back a whine. You eyed him, noting that he wasn’t showing discomfort exactly, just nerves. He refused to look at you, totally different from when he was feeling up your midsection... He didn’t fully understand that you wanted him, physically or emotionally, despite your declaration. He did say he felt he forced it from you, and then he must not have understood that the kiss you shared was your enthusiastic consent and confession.

“Sir,” you said deliberately, drawing his attention. “Forgive me, but I think it’s best that we establish a contract with terms and conditions, given this change in the status of our relationship.”

It was evident by the drop in his shoulders and the disappearance of the worried wrinkles in his forehead that your attempt at humor with the formal proposition relaxed him. Success.

“I suppose you’re right,” he answered with a faint laugh and smile, allowing you to make eye contact once more.

“You’ve already given me one, about using your name. Do you have any others?”

“I don’t have any experience with ventures of this nature,” he admitted, cheeks pink. “I think you should set your terms first.”

“I have very few. Be honest, be clear, and be you,” you stated politely. “We’ll both get the most out of this joint effort if we maintain trust and open communication, and it’s bad practice to enter any agreement under false pretenses. I will hold myself to the same standard. Is that agreeable?”

He couldn’t help the light chuckle that came from his chest, and his heart warmed at the way you lightened the mood.

“Yes, I find that all agreeable.”

“How would you like to seal the deal?” You questioned, leaving the next step up to him.

Those beautiful eyes that bordered on luminescent, outlined by dark rings that you’d been told were the result of years of insomnia, stayed on you. Slowly, as you could see the gears turning in his head, he projected an air that shifted from a man who didn’t seem confident in what he could do, to one that was ready to experiment with his boundaries. It was a sudden thrill ride that made your stomach sink and had you itching to rub your legs together to alleviate the sudden heat between them.

“I’d like to see the rest,” he stated firmly in a way that was not quite a command, but left little room for defiance.

Heat rushed to your face as you processed his request. “Th-the rest? You mean..?”

He simply nodded. You’d half way undressed for him already, but just how far did that willingness extend? He’d seen you in your picture, yes, but that was entirely a mistake, so it was different. How much of yourself were you content to bare to him?

You had no problem with showing yourself to him. There was no question of his respect for others, and for the entire year you’d known him, you’d never once seen him indicate in the slightest that he found preference in any certain shape. You’d overheard him agree with some men at the office end of year party that one of the female managers was really pretty, but he said it with the interest of someone stating that the sky was blue. It was one of the moments that made you fall for him the most. He appreciated everyone for who they were and their individual talents.

Still, the act of kicking your shoes off as you unzipped your pencil skirt felt awkward under his scrutiny, and you had to stare at the floor to keep your composure as you slid it down your legs. You stood in front of him, allowing him to see you with all your physical flaws, and crossed your arms over your stomach in a way that made you feel secure, but didn’t really hide you from him.

He didn’t like that. His hands came up to very gently pull your arms away so he could see you in all your splendor, from the crown of your head to the tips of your toes. His eyes gave away nothing, making you squirm just slightly, but then his whole expression softened and his smile made a reappearance.

“I really like that color on you.”

“I wasn’t going to get it, until something told me that you would like it,” you admitted. “If that doesn’t make you question how accidental sending that picture was, nothing will. I swear, it really was. I was just-”

You cut off as he grabbed you by the hips and pushed you down on the edge of his desk, drawing out a shocked squeak.

“You’ve already made it clear that you didn’t mean to send it to me,” he growled. “You don’t need to keep saying that.”

You couldn’t keep the smug smile off your face. “No, sir. I didn’t intend to keep reminding you.”

“What did I say about using my name?” He snapped, waking up the brat in you.

“I don’t know. I mean, old habits die hard, sir. You might have to break me of it,” you taunted him.

He took that as a challenge that he just couldn’t turn down. His hands slid up your sides to the gorgeous clothing article, mindfully feeling it from sides to back, and when approved, to the front. His eyes focused on your breasts for only seconds before they shifted to your tattoo, heating up as they soaked in the flaming red that popped beautifully against your skin tone. A pale digit touched it, brushing over each line of the kanji, followed by his lips.

God, he was so romantic, and you were positive that he was a man to whom it just came naturally. Either that, or you needed to warm up your vocal cords to sing the praises of whoever educated him on how to treat a-

You opened your eyes- when had you closed them and dropped your head back?- to see the ceiling, a soft moan tearing up your throat when you felt him nip, then cautiously bite on the sensitive flesh at the base of your neck. When he had moved from your chest, you weren’t sure. You must have checked out for a second when you were appreciating the sweeter than sugar way he was handling you.

It was all too surreal, barely made easier to grasp the more his senses took you in. The taste of sweet mint still on your lips from the gum you chewed after lunch, the feeling of your succulent body under his hands quickly becoming so ingrained that he was sure his fingers would still be tingling with the phantom sensation the next day, your scent- a mix of your shampoo, body wash, and favorite perfume- clouded his mind, your breathy sounds and the whisper of his name ringing in his ears, and the vision of you in front of him, so very willing.

“Sir?” You spoke up when he backed off and his eyes took on a distant gleam, not intending to be defiant that time.

He held out for a few seconds before his mind returned from wherever it had wandered off to.

“That was your second strike,” he growled again, and your body temperature went through the roof.

You bit your lip and crossed a leg over the other, knowing there was no way you were dry after that. Leaning back on your hands, you smirked. Oh, could tempting your boss into taking you on his desk be more of a dream come true? It couldn’t, based on the hungry way his eyes raked over you.

“And what’s the punishment for strike three, sir?”

That last little formal address pushed him over the edge. He untied the double Windsor knot and removed the black silk tie that hung from his neck, his eyes never leaving you.

“You’ve never had a problem following orders before.”

“You’ve never ordered me to do anything before. You’ve always been so cordial and polite.”

You watched as his empty hand beckoned you forward, and like a puppet on a string, you obeyed.

“I’m not feeling cordial or polite right now. I’m definitely not feeling very patient.”

You grinned, unable to even pretend to put up a fight.

“Then I’ll accept whatever punishment you feel is appropriate.”

He guided you up by your hips and turned you around. pressing his chest to your back, and then everything went dark. You felt a pressure at the back of your head as he tied a knot to hold the makeshift blindfold in place. With the inability to see, every single nerve in your body became a live wire.

Without you looking at him, it was easier for him to focus on what he was doing without getting anxious under your gaze. His arms wrapped around you and his hands flattened against your stomach. Taking his time, he ran them over your midsection, grazing over each imperfect square inch of flesh that your friends glorified in an attempt to boost your confidence. So soft and warm, and he couldn’t see himself tiring of holding you. In fact, he’d give just about anything to be able to have you in his office every day, so he could take breaks and just hold you in his arms when he was getting too stressed...

“Gaara?” You dared to whisper, ripping him from his appreciative reverie.

“No talking,” he demanded, his voice raspy as he exercised a dominance that only seeped out through the tiny cracks in his genteel demeanor from time to time.

A violent shiver raced down your spine like electricity at his tone, then again when his fingers slipped under the lace, barely brushing over the underside of your breasts. Was he simply exploring, or testing how little effort it took to drive you out of your mind?

In his head, he was mapping you out like uncharted territory, and he’d be lying if he said your reaction to his slightest movement, his lightest touch, didn’t fascinate him. He hadn’t felt so excited by anything in such a long time... It was exhilarating, and he could only crave more. More of the little noises you made, more time to memorize you, more contact-

You cried out as his fingers moved higher, causing a pleasant prickling sensation when they slipped beneath your bra and brushed over your nipples as his palms cupped each mound. It was a beautiful torment as you tried to obey his rule. The words strained against the chains of your control, and a whimper of his name escaped as you brought your hands up to cover his.

“What did I say?” He questioned, sounding anything but irritated by your disobedience.

“So-sorry, si- Gaara!”

“You’re misbehaving on purpose, aren’t you? You have to be. I know you’re far more competent than this,” he said with a dark chuckle. His hands released you after pushing the fabric up, exposing your tits to the air, then ran down your stomach to your underwear.

Legs quaking, you were so close to giving in and relying on him to support you as he slowly- so agonizingly slowly- slipped his fingers underneath the top edge. There was a gush of slick awaiting him between your legs, but to your frustration, he stopped just as his knuckles disappeared beneath the material. Was his goal to drive you insane?

“Is this really okay?” His voice, mild and a bit uncertain, floated into your ear.

“Yes,” you mewled, but as you felt a brush of his shirt against your back, you stilled. “Wait.”

Without moving the tie that was blocking your vision, you turned around, using your hands to locate his shoulders. You could feel the change from the confidence and amusement with which he’d previously been groping you to confusion.

“This feels unfair to me. I’m all but naked here, and you’re no less covered than you were when I first walked in,” you pointed out. “I’d feel a little bit better if there wasn’t such a disparity between our levels of vulnerability.”

You felt down to his waist, where his cotton-polyester second shirt was tucked into his dark slacks, and pulled at it. Pulling it up by the hem at an unhurried pace to give him plenty of time to resist, you listened. Your ears detected a hiss of air between his teeth, and you froze. You couldn’t see that he had raised his arms to allow you to remove the clothing.

“Don’t stop,” he commanded quickly, and you couldn’t help your pleased smile.

“Of course,” you answered with a nod and finished taking it off. Subtle warmth radiated from him, making you just want to curl up in his arms and rest for eternity. You dropped his shirt so you could take advantage of the golden opportunity to get a feel for those muscles you’d only barely discovered. Under your hand, they felt better than they had looked under his shirt, and you nearly discarded your blindfold to get a glimpse of them.

He watched you with a fiery intensity, enjoying your touch, growing desperate for more. It wasn’t lust that moved him, though he’d be remiss to not admit that he was certainly experiencing the powerful emotion. The need to build a stronger connection- not only to satisfy a basic human need, but also to fulfill a personal need of everything that amounted to you that was deepening by the second- charged him like a powerful battery. He didn’t think when his arms darted out and encased you, the skin on skin contact causing a massive rush of endorphins and drawing a blissful sigh from both of you. “Gaara,” you whimpered, and then he was kissing you again, amorous and gentle one second to fierce and forceful the next. His hands ran over your body tenderly, caressing you like a treasure he’d searched for his whole life. When they found your breasts once more, he pushed your bra up, and the force with which he groped your chest had you torn between a gasp and a moan. A deeper moan interrupted the previous one as the pads of his thumbs brushed your nipples for a second time. The gentle touches were a rush, but nothing compared to the one that came when he suddenly removed your bra, displacing your blindfold for a second before he re-adjusted it, then turned you around once again and pressed up against your back. You couldn’t see the mildly possessive desire burning in his eyes, but you could feel the passion that had built up in him straining against his pants. His hand had returned to where it had been before he had stopped to receive verbal consent and kept going. He may not have been the most experienced, or experienced at all, but he had plenty of crude education, courtesy of his older brother and his blonde best friend, and that education told him that judging by how absolutely soaked you were, something had already done a good job of working you up. He couldn’t say for sure if you had come into his office less than dry, but his ego purred at the thought that he was the one who could claim credit. You were almost relying on him to keep you standing as he familiarized himself with your intimate area, powered by the noises you made.

Your knees were quaking as you leaned against him and clutched the hand over your ribcage. He brushed against your clit and you saw stars. It had been so long since anyone else’s hand had touched you, and the fact that it was your boss- no. The fact that it was Gaara- socially awkward, sweet, intimidating at times, devoted to his work and loved ones- no matter his position, had you ready to snap. “You’re so hot,” he whispered in your ear, running his hand on your chest down to your stomach. “We should probably do something about that.” And then he did the last thing you would have thought he’d do. He moved you to the huge window and pressed you up against the glass. You were dying to know where the fuck the man got his kinks. Luckily, you were high enough up that no one who wasn’t flying by in a helicopter could see you. The chilled surface felt amazing on your skin- he was right, you were overheating a bit. He then removed his tie and let you see the artificially lit city. It was breath-taking, and you briefly wondered if this wasn’t actually a kink, but his attempt to be romantic and helpful- “I want the whole city to know you’re mine,” he growled, sending a tremor down your spine that would have put a level eight earthquake to shame.

Nope. Definitely a kink.

“Am I?” You challenged him. “Am I really yours?” “I believe that’s what we agreed on.” “Did we?” You pressed back against him, brushing your ass against his straining length. “Prove it.” He wasn’t a total beast that lost control, like you had started to think he would be. No, he was much worse. He turned you around and-

“Oh my god,” you gasped when you saw the inked images running up and down his arms. You got a full look at the half naked man before you. His hair was tussled, his forehead and arms were tattooed, and his eyes were absolutely wild. He was the most beautiful person you’d ever seen.

He got you on your back- after laying his jacket down under your back so you wouldn’t be irritated by the coarse fibers of the carpet- and then he dialed back his intensity, which was brutal after being brought to such a pleasurable height only a couple minutes before. “You were such a good girl before. What happened?” He taunted, lightly touching you in the places you’d responded most strongly to when he was exploring you before. “Gaara,” you groaned. “If only everyone in the office knew you were such a tease.” “They’d never believe it if you told them.” He smirked with pride. He had a carefully constructed mask, and no one that he didn’t feel close enough to could see through it. You were one that he had deemed special enough. He was allowing you to see the faces he hid from everyone else. The uncertainty, the doubt, the love, the lust, and everything else, you knew he’d let you see them all with little reservation- in comparison to what he showed others, anyway- because he wanted you and trusted you.

The thought struck you hard, ringing through your being, and you couldn’t help smiling. Your body released its tension, stupefying him. You were on the verge of begging him to give you release, and suddenly became the picture of tranquility. When you stepped into his office, you were wrestling with fear and wanton desire that were eating at you like ravenous wolves. When you were trying to leave, you were disheartened and defeated. When you actually walked out that door, it would be with your head held high and in the best spirits you could imagine, feeling loved and appreciated by someone you deemed special enough to merit putting your heart on the line before you even knew how they felt. He watched you as you sat up, having no idea where things were going. “No, they wouldn’t, and I’m pretty happy about that. I get to keep this side of you all to myself.” His eyes changed from swimming with confusion to your favorite tender gaze, the one that had started everything for you from the first time you saw it. He leaned in and you shared the softest kiss yet. What had previously been more one sided as power shifted between you two, whoever could fluster the other being the one in charge, became a sweet and equal balance. You held him loosely by the back of his neck while your other hand ran down his chest, eliciting a soft growl from deep in his throat. “Gaara,” you whispered when you broke apart. “I love you.” Shock flashed across his face, followed by an expression that you could only describe as insecure and frightened. “You don’t have to say anything, I just wanted you to know. Come on,” you told him, then laid back down, inviting him with twinkling eyes and a playful smile. “Are you sure?” He inquired, and you saw clear conflict in his eyes. There were rumors around the office ranging from that he was asexual, to the idea that he had his own personal harem. You had no clue where most of those ideas came from, but you had a feeling the more scoffed at idea that he wasn’t asexual but had never had sex was right on the mark, especially since he admitted that he had no experience in establishing a relationship.

“Yes, but it’s okay if you’re not,” you assured him, “If what we’ve done is all you’re comfortable with, then it’s enough.”

You got on your knees in front of him. “But give me a chance to make you feel good?” He appeared a little unsure, and you wondered if he had any experience being touched at all, or if he had a bad experience. He had no problem making sure you felt good, but he didn’t seem to have an idea of how it felt to be catered to. “It’s okay,” you said with a soft smile before pecking him on his lips and getting up to dress. Inside his head, Gaara was running laps. You were the first person he’d ever been so intimate with- ever desired to be so intimate with- but when it came down to being fully vulnerable, he hesitated. He’d been in positions of power for so long, and even when he had higher ups to answer to, no one would ever make the mistake that he was ever less than in complete control of his position. The idea of handing that control over to someone, even if it was only for a few moments of pleasure… It terrified him. More than terrified him. He didn’t know how to relinquish that much control to someone, did he? That’s what love was all about, right? When you said you love him, he didn’t doubt it for a second, but he choked on his reply. You took it in stride and kept moving…

“Gaara?” He barely registered that you had spoken to him, and that you were kneeling back in front of him.

You called his name again, but he was unresponsive. “Oh god, I broke my boss,” you muttered, touching his shoulder. You had no idea what to do to snap him out of whatever trance he was in. Throw water on him? Gently slap him? Shove him? ...You got one idea that you hoped would stop you from needing to use force.

“Okay, sir, I guess I’ll just head home, if that’s all you need,” you said clearly and at a higher than normal volume, praying that it would shake him up enough.

One word pierced through the mental fog, and the rest got through, eliciting a growl and glare. “I told you not to call me that, and you aren’t going anywhere without me.” “Oh, thank goodness,” you sighed in relief. “You scared me.”

Confusion painted his face. “I lost you for a bit there. I’m very sorry if I did something that upset you or triggered something unpleasant. We can talk about it later, if you want, and you can tell me what you’re comfortable with. I don’t want to do anything that you’re unsure about. It’s probably best that you get going anyway, since you’ve got people ex- Mmph!”

You really should have kept a tally on how many times he did that, but how he went from a state of confusion to- “Shut up,” he panted when he stopped kissing you to catch his breath, and his hands went to undo the buttons you had just done up.

It was your turn to play host to the confusion he’d previously held, and it was much deeper than it had been with him. “Wha-” “I gave you an order.”

Your briefs were not going to dry out on their own any time soon, and your legs were quivering as you leaned back on your calves.

He wasn’t confused about anything, and it had changed so fast, it would have left the metro train in the dust. He trusted very few people enough to risk being compromised- four, to be exact- and he wasn’t inclined to strip down and tangle with any of them- it would be a crime if he was to do so with three of them. Naruto… He wouldn’t have ruled him out exactly, if asked, but otherwise, he wouldn’t have contemplated it at all.

Then you were right in front of him, in his shirt again, worried about upsetting him, wanting to see to it that he was comfortable… It wasn’t just then either. It was how you had been with every interaction since the day he met you. You showed interest in him as a person, but you weren’t pushy. He’d analyzed you as an employee for a year, and without thinking about it, he’d fallen in love with you.

Without thinking about it… When he didn’t think, when he just let himself feel, the fear went away. Just feeling was what got him to that point with you, and he didn’t regret it in the slightest. It wasn’t easy, but just moving without stopping to assess the consequences felt nice. It didn’t go over his head that it was only because it was you, who had been brave enough to face him after that picture and accept whatever decision he made about what would come of it, strong enough to admit to him how you felt about him when you had already been so exposed in more ways than one, kind enough to let him set the pace, considerate enough to think about the people waiting on him, thoughtful enough to bring him coffee when you believed he was staying late… It was only because you made him feel so at ease. He was safe with you, he wanted you, and as long as he focused solely on you, he wasn’t afraid.

“Ga-Gaara?” You whispered, seeing that he was in a bit of a trance again. It was enough to bring him back, and then he kissed you again, unable to explain what was going through his mind and heart. It was so soft and sweet, you were completely distracted and didn’t even notice that he’d removed the shirt from you again. Again, you whispered his name, and again, it lit a fire in him. His body pressed to yours as he lowered you onto your back on his jacket once more, a hand around the back of your neck to keep your lips pressed to his, and the other on your lower back.

Nothing entered your mind as you held him against you, wishing that you’d never have to let go. Your lips moved against his in a manner that was opposite to the frantic way your hands felt him up, like you were going to lose him any second.

With no preamble, he pushed up your skirt, bunching it over your stomach. Then his hands moved to your drenched briefs and paused, wanting to hear you consent again. “Please,” you whimpered before he could ask, desperate to feel his hand there again.

He gave a slight nod, then slid them down your thighs, over your knees, and all the way off. How would you react if he told you that you weren’t getting them back? His lips curled into a semi-smirk at the thought, and that, coupled with the way you were gazing at him- as if he were the most god-like being, yet also seeing the humanity in him- drove him forward. He unbuckled his belt, unbuttoned and unzipped his pants, and an instinct he never realized he possessed took over. You propped yourself up on your elbows and watched him with growing adoration, amazed at the way he took control. You would have gladly taken the lead and didn’t expect much of him, but he was carrying on with more confidence than you would have expected of anyone who had been so nervous just a minute or two before. He was so focused and intent as soon as he confirmed once again that you were a willing participant. Willing was an understatement if there ever was one.

He gazed back at you when he was free from the confines of his pants, but his cock was still tucked into his briefs. “What do you want me to do next?” He inquired in a soft voice, not wanting to shatter the tranquility that had settled over you. He wouldn’t have spoken at all, but he wanted to make sure he did it right. You beckoned to him, coaxing him into looming over you. “I want you to fuck me, sir,” you whispered, barely above the volume of a breath. There it was again. That goddamn title. He growled, warring with himself on whether or not to give you what you desired after your insolence that he just knew was intentional. He desired it too, evidenced by the sensation in his stomach and his throbbing member- the erection that had mostly been maintained despite the interlude of uncertainty was at its max, and he couldn’t hold back. He pulled it out from his underwear- the tip red, engorged, and weeping- and brushed it against your dripping sex.

The moan that came from you was not one you had ever heard before, and it might have been embarrassing, but you were well past the blushing point. You needed him then and there, and you let him know with a whine of his name.

In the future, he would deny you and tease you until you couldn’t remember your own name- and make you wonder what the hell happened to the sweet, slightly shy man you’d initially seen- but that would have to wait until he made you his. You gave a cry of euphoria mixed with the lightest pain as he made his way inside you, stretching you out as he moved deeper and deeper and deep-

Another cry of delight was ripped from you as he hit the spot that had your whole body buzzing like your nervous system was coursing with electricity.

He faintly chuckled as you adjusted, interrupted by a sigh of bliss as you clenched your walls around him, greedily taking what he gave.

“Mo-move,” you requested, almost demanding as you shifted your hips, trying to find that spot again.

“Who’s supposed to give the orders here?” He said, the gruff tone of his voice making you shiver, but complied because he wanted to please you, and he wanted to further explore the physical pleasure he’d never experienced before. He really thought Kankuro was exaggerating.

You were so far gone in pleasure, but you could still appreciate the way the sweat beaded on his brow as he thrusted into you, taking no half measures. You reached up and brushed his bangs out of the way as they fell into his eyes. A particularly hard and well placed thrust had you reflexively pushing your hips back against his, drawing a staggered groan from his throat. It shoved you to the very edge, and you were one good push away from falling over.

“So close,” you whimpered, your hands going to his beautifully inked arms.

In return, you got a grunt as he gave a harder thrust. You wrapped your legs around his waist and pulled him in as tightly as you could. That put you at an angle that had him nailing you in the best way,

Your shriek of his name would have anyone still in the building running to you. The emotions from the day, every second of dread, sorrow, and fear culminated in the greatest high, channeling into the positive feelings you’d felt with him. Your soul, body, and mind had reached nirvana.

He wasn’t far behind as your hot pussy tightened around his cock, overwhelming him and leading to his undoing. He answered your shout with one of your name as he gave one last thrust and emptied himself into you. You had the brief thought that you were glad you were on regular birth control.

The two of you panted as you stared at each other following the release, and there was a surrealness about it, both of you wondering if it really happened, or if you’d wake up the next morning and find it was only a delusion. Both robbed of words, you were mute as you sat up and pushed your skirt back down, then looked down at your hands. If it was a delusion, you wanted to make sure everything was said.

“I love you,” you muttered, then repeated it a bit louder. “I love you so much, Gaara, and I’ll never be able to go back to what we were before. I don’t know what will happen from here, and if you don’t completely feel the same way, I understand. That’s all right, just-” “Shut up,” he commanded, but it was tender.

You lifted your gaze to see him looking a total mess, but it was even more attractive than his normal appearance.

“What about what we just did gave you the impression that I don’t feel exactly as you do?” “I-I’m just saying that-” “And I’m just saying that I do. I don’t know any better than you do about the future, but I’m not about to let you go. I love you, and I’ll do whatever we have to in order to make this work.” A short laugh of disbelief escaped you before you threw yourself at him, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing his cheek.

“Okay. I can work with that.” Smiles bloomed on both of your faces, and after a few kisses that gradually grew more heated, you managed to part enough to put yourselves back together. Agreeing to spare the cleaning staff the confusion and possible horror, you did the best you could to clean the evidence of your escapade out of the carpet, and used the rag he’d treated your burn with to clean each other up. He reluctantly allowed you to reclaim your briefs. That time.

“I’ll take you home, if you’d like, but I have an affair that I’d enjoy a lot more if you were there,” he said as the two of you were heading out. “I understand if you’d rather not.” “You mean… Meeting your family?” You questioned, joy and terror at the thought washing over you.

“Yes, but as I said, I under-” “I’d love to. I just don’t know if I’m properly dressed, and they aren’t expecting me.” “You’re dressed fine, but we can stop by your home for you to change, and as the guest of honor, they can deal with me expanding the guest list by one person.” You laughed and nodded, loosening up slightly. “Okay.”

When you walked into the house Gaara owned and shared only with his son after swinging by your apartment for a change, you were met with wide-eyed looks of disbelief. It only took a minute before Kankuro and Temari were smirking at their little brother, being privy to how he talked about you whenever they asked him about how work was going.

“Wait, so you two are dating,” Kankuro said after the awkward introductions. “Is this going to be some watered down Fifty Shades of Grey shit?” “Kankuro!” Gaara scolded, then glanced at Shinki, who seemed blissfully unaware as he analyzed you.

“Gaara, I hate to say it, but he’s going to hear about it within the next few years, with how prevalent it is in pop culture,” you spoke softly, smiling at the boy, then glared at Kankuro. “That said, anyone who openly discusses what’s in that book or anything like it in front of a child is going to meet the business end of my newest stilettos, got it? Besides, she was never his employee. If you’re going to say stupid things like that, at least get your facts straight.”

The elder brother eyed you, then looked to the younger. “I see why you brought her home.”

A smile bloomed on Gaara’s lips as he watched you bend down to get better acquainted with the eight-year-old. This was no doubt a worthwhile venture that he hoped to maintain for as long as possible.

You stayed until after Temari left, and Shinki went to bed. Kankuro offered to take you home as he was preparing to leave.

“If it’s not out-” You started to say. “She’s staying the night.” You tried not to show the astonishment you felt at the abrupt change of plans. Kankuro smirked. “Moving kind of fast, aren’t you, little brother? You better be careful. I know you don’t keep any protection on hand, and you don’t have any experience with this kind of thing, but those emotions can get pretty powerful, pretty fast-” “We’re not teenagers, Kankuro,” Gaara sighed.

“I know. I’m just saying.”

“Then stop.”

Once the other man was gone, you shot Gaara a proud smirk. “So... that was a sudden change.”

Guilt was written on his face as he gazed back at you. “Is it a problem? I’m sorry, it was presumptuous and impulsive. I just thought it was the best way to end my-”

Your lips barely brushed his as you leaned in and whispered something that made his head spin and cost him his ability to think straight.

“What are you waiting for? Take me to bed.”

#naruto modern au #boss kink #gaara x reader #smut

[nightfall-kachiniko]

Hey! I really liked your Annie angst where she hits the reader and wanted to request one where it's the same idea but just with Mikasa? Thanks a lot!

HAHA YES IVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS!

“A broken promise ” Mikasa x Reader. || Chapter 1. Oᴛʜᴇʀ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀs ᴀʀᴇ ᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴏᴛᴛᴏᴍ!

this contains spoilers for the manga of AOT. || rumbling spoilers ahead||

You walked into your both’s shared bedroom to find Mikasa staring at herself in the mirror, her eyes sad as she looking down at her feet as she laid against the mirror. Her back faced you. Your arms crept around her waist, hugging her strong body as you cuddled you head into the back of her shoulder. “Please.. come back to me..” you softly whispered for the both of you to hear. “Your so distant yet… so close..” you hugged her tighter as you embraced her presence.

Mikasa pushed you off of her after a while, and started to walk out of the room. “You make me sick.”

Hours passed since your encounter with your girlfriend.

You couldn’t stand just letting this happen. Your relationship was slowly but surely being torn apart, weather or not mikasa was realizing it or not. Could she not care about you anymore? Her attitude changed Jurassic-ally ever since Eren told Her he hated her, which to your dismay you turned your back on him, saying that Mikasa deserved better.

You finally built up the courage to talk to her directly, as you made your way through the airship, coming out of your dorm. The common area was a wide open space, couches and a new thing from Marley that had just been discovered by the people of paradis, something called a “television.”

You turned your way to the room next to it, a small conference room. The room was long with a small glass table, a bookshelf, and a fireplace with couches. The woman stood at the bookshelf’s in the back of the room, looking at one of them.

“This has been going on for way to long,” you said to the raven haired woman, her gaze now looking at you with her eyes stern. “What happened to you?” All she could do was roll her eyes, not saying a word. “I know how attached you are to him, and I don’t want that to happen either, but I’m just saying, it’s a possible outcom-“

“No it isn’t,”

She said fiercely. “Mikasa , you have to accept the fact eren has changed,” “No he hasn’t!” Her voice got louder, to your surprise. “You act as though you knew him for your whole life, he will stop this rumbling,”

“And what if he doesn’t?”

“He will,”

“Your in denial”

“Maybe I’m so in denial because all you’ve done is try to bring me down for these past few weeks!” Your girlfriend yelled, “All you’ve done is hate on Eren all this damn time!”

“Mikasa are you fucking NUTS?! HE LITERALLY TOLD YOU HE HATED YOU!”

“He doesn’t mean that,”

“Are you sure mikasa? Think about everything he’s done to you.” There was a pause before you added, “think about everything he’s done to us,”

Mikasa shut the book closed, tossing it on a nearby table.

“Shut up,”

She gritted her teeth at you before pitching the bridge of her nose.

“What happened to you?” You asked her sadly,

“Absolutely nothing,”

“Everything changed,”

“NOTHING ABOUT ME CHANGED!” Mikasa screamed at you, pounding her fist on the wall. “Mikasa .. listen to yourself! You used to never be like this! You were so sweet and caring, and then Eren changed, and so did you.”

She went quiet, an irritated look on her face. The Airship you and the rest of the cadets were on, soared through the air. The thing they call ‘a flying boat’ letting off steam as it flew. Towards Marley you headed, where the rumbling was occurring. Eren had already planned this whole ideal out behind the Survey Corps backs, his mean demeanor changing the person who you barley can recognize, you girlfriend.

“You never used to yell at me the way you do now,” you said as her breathing got heavier with anger.

“We used to be inseparable, now look at us. Ever since the rumbling started and Eren actually going through with his plan, you slowly started drifting away from me. And at first I understood why.”

She looked at you, the woman’s eyes still as stern as they could ever be, giving you a violent but silent glare.

“And then you became mean.. and aggressive.”

She started stepping towards you, her eyes bloodshot with anger, “you don’t understand because you never took the time to listen!,”

“All you did was push me away! Every time I tried to help! You treated me like your punching bag!” Your girlfriend moved towards you aggressively, making you hesitant to stay put. Your girlfriend looked at you dead in the eyes and for a slight moment, you swore you could see a tear forming. “I became aggressive? Yoru kidding me! HOW THE HELL ARE YOU JUST GOING TO ACT LIKE THIS ISNT A SERIOUS SITUATION! I TRIED TO BE NICE FOR THE LONGEST TIME!

“You are NOT the same woman I feel in love with!” Your voice trailed into her ears. Your heart heavy as your words spilled out. “Oh yeah? Then maybe you weren’t in love with me at all.”

“Mikasa you know that isn’t true,”

“I tried protecting ALL OF YOU! AND LOOK WHERE WE END UP! SASHA’S DEAD! COMMANDER HANJI IS DEAD! “

“Yeah and the same person you’re defending is the cause of their deaths.”

“Eren wouldn’t do this.” She stated. Your head filled with irritation. ‘Why can’t she just accept it?!’

“Are you kidding me?! WAKE UP! DO YOU NOT SEE WHAT’S HAPPENING AROUND YOU!?” you yelled, “EREN IS KILLING, HUNDREDS OF THOUSANDS OF PEOPLE!” your voice cracked out. The pain that you bared because of your friends actions was one you couldn’t get rid of no matter how hard you tried. No matter how many days would linger past, the fact that Eren, the boy who you once knew when he was running around playing tag with you and the rest of your group, is now a mass murderer.

“we don’t have to kill him-“

“MIKASA WE HAVE NO OTHER CHOICE! DO YOU NOT SEE WHAT HE’S DOING!? EREN IS JUST AS GUILTLY AS REINER AND BERTOLDT!”

“SHUT UP!” Her voice raised with irrational and anger. “YOU DON’T GET TO MAKE THAT DECISION!”

“You aren’t LISTENING! EVEN JEAN SAID THAT WOULD BE BEST! I DONT WANT TO KILL HIM BABY I REALLY DONT BUT WHAT ELSE CAN WE DO!”

“DAMNIT I SAID STOP!”

And just like that a loud crash noise was heard. The swift movement of a fist collided with the side of your face, the power containing it sending you falling back and into the glass coffee table behind you. You didn’t even realize what had just happened. You didn’t want to believe what just happened. You stared up at your girlfriend who’s face turned from anger to complete horror, her hand over her mouth as she stared at the damage she just caused. And boy was it bad.

The sting of redness on your face started to bleed droplets of blood. Soaking through your broken skin as a large red colored bruise begin to form. Tears started welting up in your e/c orbs. The sadness washed over you as you saw the woman who was suppose to love you, show an action of hatred that you never knew she could do. She hit you. She hurt you.

Heavy and frantic footsteps were heard rushing to the door of the conference room. The door swung open and there stood your best friend, Armin Artlert. “I-is everything okay!? I heard glad breaking!” He said, worried. His eyes looked around the room. The salty pieces of water flooded down your face as you choked on your tears.

Armin’s face went dead, he couldn’t believe it either. “Y-y/n.. baby.. oh g-god honey i-“ Mikasa couldn’t even form words. Hell SHEE couldn’t even believe she did that.

“W-wha-“ armin barley got out when you rushed to the door, pushing armin aside and ran back to your dorm room. “Y-y/n!” Armin tried calling out to you as your dorm slammed shut. You sinking to the floor crying.

Armin stared at Mikasa, “W-what happened?” His eyes saddened. “I..” Mikasa couldn’t get out any words, her face still in shock. “I hit them…” she managed to get out. “O-oh god I- I hit them,” her eyes filled tears as Armin pulled her into a hug. “I-I’m so sorry.. I-I’m so sorry…”

You laid on the floor after sinking down to the ground, slamming your door shut. Wiping your tears away with your hands, you looked at your both’s shared bedroom. Studying the interior. Thinking back on the time Mikasa promised you how she’d always be there for you, how she promised that she’d never hurt you. She promised when you both had your first kiss. She kept that promise and always kept it for so long, never once breaking it. Your numb body looked over at the ticking clock.

The thoughts that ran through your head as you watched the clock tick, and with every second you couldn’t bear to accept the fact, Her promise was broken.

Kachiniko || My Blog || What I write || 06/06/21

Chapter 2 “The conclusion”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

#aot #attackontitan #aot4 #ackerman #mikasa #mikasa x reader #attack on titan #mikasa aot #shingeki no kyojin mikasa #mikasa headcanons #Mikasa x you #mikasa ackerman x you #mikasa ackerman headcanons #Mikasa Ackerman x reader #ackerman mikasa #mikasa x y/n #Mikasa snk #mikasa icons #attack on titan mikasa #angsty #Mikasa x reader angst #Mikasa x you angst #aot x reader #attackontitanseason4 #attack on titan the finale season #mikasa akerman #accidentally hitting s/o during an arguememt

[mermaidsirennikita]

I had the same thought about LW exposing Anthony and Kate and that being their impetus to marry. While we know the bee sting will happen, I kind of suspect it might be kept on the DL initially. Penelope will know somehow, though, and misreport it since it looks scandalous but was actually innocuous. Therefore thwarting the Anthony/Edwina engagement or wedding…

But LW reporting of an “affair” would be horribly humiliating for Edwina, fuck up their sisterly relationship, and have awful ramifications on the Sharmas reputations, which are already fragile. Yet I’m sure the show would spin it as Penelope being a well-intentioned/righteous “Kathony shipper” who wants to rescue Edwina from a loveless marriage, or some BS.

If so, it establishes a pattern of Penelope targeting more desirable WOC. And I do think we’ll see LW at her most vicious S2 - “hitting her lowest point” - and they’ll begin to redeem her the following season. But Penelope’s such a miserable, bitter person, I’m not sure how anyone can be expected to root for her as a heroine regardless.

To me, there seems to be a few schools of thought on Penelope. I think that if you've bought the sale with Penelope to the point that you dismiss her doing anything wrong, there's nothing she can do that will flip your opinion on her. It seems like a lot of these people project onto Penelope, to be quite frank--they're either so attached to book!Pen (who is a totally different character) that they pretend that show!Pen is like book!Pen... Just because it's like a "my Penelope, right or wrong"... Or, they project onto her for themselves. I see a lot of people say that they relate to Penelope because she's a wallflower, because she's fat, etc. I personally can't relate to being a wallflower--I think a lot of that really comes down to personality more than anything else--but I can relate to being bigger, and I just don't see myself in Penelope at all. I've said this before, but I find it... offensive... That she is the way a fat woman with a romance arc on mainstream TV (so hard to find!) is being portrayed. She's jealous, vindictive, and so insecure about her appearance that it's cliche. I just want a fat girl whose arc (especially her romance arc) doesn't involve negative feelings about her appearance for once.

Then, there's the school of thought wherein people want to like show!Penelope because they like book!Penelope, but the ice is getting thinner. If Pen does go after the Sharma sisters, I see that ice breaking a bit more. A lot of people love Kate. And I think that because Marina wasn't a main heroine and wasn't so beloved, people dismissed what happened to her (not... something I love). It's harder to dismiss it when your favorite is the one being targeted.

Then there's the school of thought that I belong to, where they've basically botched the character to the point that there's no getting her back. I've honestly yet to find a person who watches this show in my "real life" who likes Penelope. Everyone pretty much hated her.

I think that as much as they will try to frame it as Penelope being on the side of good IF she exposes Kate and Anthony (forcing Kate and Anthony to be together, "saving" Edwina from a loveless marriage)... There's a lot of bad going on with that. You're taking the choice away from all of them, for one thing--even if they were going to make dumb choices. And you're exposing Edwina and Kate to the world ~caprice and derision~ to paraphrase 2005!Pride and Prejudice. While also potentially fucking up their relationship as sisters.

And whether they play it as Penelope being jealous of attractive women of color, the fact that this was already a thing in s1 just makes it feel that way again. Like, damn girl. What's your damage with these women? Cressida Cowper has gotten less damage from Lady Whistledown, ffs.

#bridgerton

[pillage-and-lute]

Pins and Needles: Part 3

Part 1, Part 2

———- 🌷 🐺 🌷———-

The butter yellow of the awning of the new tattoo shop carried on inside. The color scheme was classy, though. 

During Geralt’s mostly misspent youth, he’d been inside his fare share of tattoo and piercing parlors. He’d never gotten a tattoo, and his piercings had mostly been his own work, but still, the culture seeped in. He had learned to expect a lot of red and black and exposed brickwork. There was nothing wrong with that look, but he considered the interior of Pins and Needles to be much more friendly. 

The walls were a deep blue, denim, if he had to name it, or perhaps Prussian Blue. It was on all the walls, and the ceiling, with the floor in a dark, smooth wood. He wasn’t sure if that was kept from the last shop or was newly installed. The counter was in the same polished, dark wood, so he supposed it was new. All the accents were dandelion yellow, or yellow brass if they were metal. His leg brushed up against a velveteen chair, something of a vintage style, and of course, in that same buttery yellow. 

The waiting area had the chair, a matching loveseat, and a high-backed chaise lounge in a teal color. It had more green to it’s color than the walls, and was in a lighter shade, but it was adjacent to the color of the walls, and a pleasing focal point. Overall, Geralt was impressed. The blue and yellow color scheme could have easily been overdone, but it was masterful, and clearly completed by someone with an eye for color. 

Ciri was delightedly pouring over a piercing display. Geralt was startled to realize he owned the exact display box. It was, in fact, a large glass terrarium, the metal that same shiny brass. The shelves of piercing were cleverly angled and set within the case so that they were all visible. 

“Nice display case, isn’t it?” 

Geralt turned, and there was Jaskier. He had a BB8 coffee mug in his hand, and a shimmery teal shirt unbuttoned low. It framed his sternum and the peaks of color visible through his chest hair and pointing down in a tempting arrow to--

“urk,” Geralt said, choking on his own tongue. 

“Priscilla found it on the side of the road one day, the legs were scuffed to hell and one was missing, but the glass was intact, so she took it back to her house and fixed it up.”

“I have the same one,” Geralt managed, the tips of his ears reddening.

“Oh, as a display case?”

“Um, it’s a terrarium.”

“Is it really?” Jaskier beamed and Geralt felt like he was dying. “I always thought it was a funny shape. It makes such a lovely focal point along that wall though.”

Ciri was beaming as well. “Dad keeps succulents in his. Is Priscilla the lady that does piercings?”

“She is,” Jaskier said, tilting his head so that his hair flopped and Gerald got a better view of his undercut and dangling chain of a cuff piercing on his ear. “Are you in the market for a piercing, miss...”

“Ciri,” she said, sticking her hand out to shake. “And my dad might get a tattoo sometime, but he’s being a baby about it and doesn’t know what he wants.”

Jaskier shook her hand and levelled a devastating grin at Geralt. “Well, some things aren’t to be rushed, but if your dad ever want’s a tattoo, I’ll give him anything he wants.”

Geralt desperately tried to reel his thoughts in from the absolute trainwreck that that statement illicited. Obviously Jaskier was just trying to sell his craft not offer...anything else. 

“Are you taking walk-ins for piercings?” Ciri asked. 

“Absolutely,” Jaskier said, turning and shouting. “Priscilla?” Down the hall of the shop where, presumably, the actuall tattooing and piercing rooms were. 

“YEah?” came the response. 

“Got a consult for you!”

She poked her head out of a room, smiled quickly, popped back in for a second, then emerged. “Hiya, sorry, I was just doing a little sketching, how can I help?”

“I’d like an industrial piercing please,” Ciri said. 

Priscilla tilted her head, eyes squinting slightly as she, apparently, assesed Ciri’s ears. “That’ll suit you well, left or right side?”

“Left.”

“Cool,” she looked to Geralt. “I’m assuming you’re the dad?”

“Uh, yes,” Geralt said, feeling wildly out of his depth. 

“Great, and does she have your permission for the piercing?”

“Oh, uh, yeah, absolutely.”

“Cool,” Priscilla said, digging behind the counter. “I’ve got paper work for both of you, and then we can get this lovely lady poked full of holes.”

Geralt’s stomach flipped over. Despite how many times he had actually stuck a fucking sewing needle through his own ear as a teenager, he couldn’t stand the thought of normal piercing needles. 

“It’s okay, Dad,” Ciri said as they were handed paperwork and pens. “You don’t have to hold my hand or anything, you can wait out here.”

“Great,” Geralt said, looking at the paperwork. Pretty standard stuff, parental release, aftercare papers, all that. He signed quickly and returned the relevant documents, keeping the aftercare instructions. 

“Thanks very much,” Priscilla said, checking for signatures before smiling at Ciri again. “Got any jewelry picked out?” They walked over to the case as Ciri gestured to some. 

Jaskier was looking at Geralt assessingly over the top of his coffee mug. “You know,” he said. “Most dads aren’t this cool about piercings.” He licked a bit of foam off of his lip and Geralt tried very hard to pretend that he hadn’t seen the flash of a tongue piercing. 

“I, uh, I’ve got plenty of bad ones, I’d rather she got her’s done professionally.”

“Bad ones?” Priscilla’s head jerked up. “Can I see?”

Geralt nodded as she was already bustleing over. He brushed the strands of hair that escaped his ponytail back so she could see his ears. 

“Amatur work for sure, although no lasting damage, where’d you get these done?” 

Geralt flushed. “I did them, uhm, way back.”

“Oh god, you didn’t buy one of those cheep piercing guns, did you?” Priscilla asked, poking gently at Geralt’s ear so she could look at the back of the piercings. Jaskier smiled at Geralt’s probably confused expression. 

“No, I used a needle.”

Priscilla pulled back, eyes wide. “A sewing needle?”

Geralt shrugged guiltily.

“Yeah, okay,” she said quickly, turning to Ciri. “Hold out your pinky, you have to make me a promise.”

Ciri’s brow furrowed, but she linked pinky fingers with the excitable piercer. 

“I promise,” Priscilla said, gesturing with her other hand for Ciri to repeat after her.

“I promise,” Ciri said. 

“Not to pierce myself.”

“Not to pierce myself,” Ciri said, smiling.

“No matter what my dad did.”

“No matter what my dad did,” Ciri finished. “I won’t, don’t worry.”

“Good,” Priscilla said, releasing Ciri’s pinky from it’s hold and sending a theatrical shiver of disgust toward Geralt. “A sewing needle, yikes. C’mon kiddo, we’re gonna stick a needle through your ear, and I’ll show you how a real piercer does it.”

She hurried Ciri into the back room, grabbing a couple sealed packages on the way, needle and jewelry, Geralt presumed. 

“Don’t mind Prissy,” Jaskier said. “She’s just very big on piercing safety.”

“No, I agree,” Geralt said. “I was a really stupid kid back then.”

Jaskier smiled and came out from around the counter a bit, leaning against the side, hip jutting in those ungodly tight leather pants. “Ciri seems pretty smart though, does she get it from her mother?”

“Um,” Geralt said, the sight of those long, leather-wrapped legs making his mouth weirdly dry. “I suppose? Her dad was pretty smart, too.”

“Ah, so you’re not her biological dad?” Jaskier said, leaning forward. Geralt wondered for a second if he was fishing, but surely not, pretty tattoo artists didn’t flirt with frumpy guys like him. 

“No, uh, but I’ve been her guardian since she was just a baby so...”Geralt trailed off, unsure how to finish.

“That’s very cute.” Jaskier’s eyes trailed down Geralt, then back up. To his shame, Geralt realized he hadn’t even removed his apron. 

“You know,” Jaskier said, conversationally. “My dad would have never even thought about letting me get a piercing.”

Geralt looked over the form in front of him, piercings in each ear, more than one, even, a nose ring, and that ellusive tongue ring, as well as the colorful tattoos that swarmed over his skin. “That worked out well for him,” he said without thinking, then blushed.

Jaskier, though, laughed, head back, shoulders shaking. “Indeed,” he said at last. “I shrugged off my father’s wishes rather fully, I think.” 

The bell rang as another person entered the shop and Geralt stepped aside as Jaskier went back behind the counter. He sat on the yellow chair and watched Jaskier’s lips--and that hint of silver on his tongue-- as he made the young woman a tattoo appointment. 

Jaskier’s hands, full of rings and swirling ink, were so quick on the computer keys, and when he talked with them, they were so expressive. 

Geralt wanted to hold one. 

Unfortunately, by the time the young woman was gone and Geralt could have possibly had Jaskier’s full attention again, Ciri was all done. Geralt paid, thanked both Jaskier and Priscilla, and went over the care instructions, before he and Ciri crossed the road. 

It felt very much like a retreat. 

———- 🌷 🐺 🌷———-

Tag List!

@jaybeefoxy @sweetiepieplum  @holymotherwolf

#geraskier #tattoo au #flower shop au #the witcher #geralt x jaskier #geralt is a good dad #but a dating disaster #DO NOT do your own piercings kids

[lune-hime]

Garden of Tulips (Levi/Reader) Chapter 10

~Click me for more chapters~

“What did it look like?”

“Hmm?” Levi looked up from his place next to your sleeping form. “The titan that tried to snack on my darling granddaughter.” “Ugly as fuck.” “Aren’t they all?”

Levi recounts memories of the reader and their shared life together while she recovers from a serious injury.

!!WARNINGS!! - Violence, gore, smut, wholesome content ;)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tulipa alba coreulea oculata ~ A modest tulip of pearl hue that awakens before its sisters in the early spring. When she blooms, the inky beauty of her indigo heart is revealed.

↞↠↞↠↞↠

Colors danced in soft swirls under your closed eyelids. They were so thickly painted that you felt as if one swipe of your hand would intertwine their chromatic trails and mix their hues. You recognized this work of art as your euphoria; the painting of which you dreamed of many moons ago.

The delicate hands of your little muse patted your cheeks in a gentle reminder that you were too close to the surface to drift back into darkness. Here you waited in this limbo with the young girl, watching as the colors spun faster against her obsidian locks. She was the culmination of everything you could have in the future where you recovered.

The colors gained ferocity as the natural lighting from the wide window above your bed assaulted your eyes. It was as if you were an infant gazing upon the unfamiliar world so intensely it was painful. The searing brightness crinkled your brow and pinched uncomfortably at the corners of your eyes.

Sharp pain bombarded you just as the light did. It’s ivory beams peeled the lengthened sleep from your body and left a dull aching in its wake. The discomfort that now hugged your form was worth it, though, for when your vision gradually sifted up from the murky depths of unconsciousness you wanted to cry on spot at the valkyrie before you.

He contrasted so vibrantly against the pearly essence of the wallpaper of your room that you weren’t sure if you were still actually dwelling in your painting. An overwhelming urge to mold into him wracked your sedentary muscles. You were agitated at your weakened body, irritated that it couldn’t give your mind what it desired. The magnetic sensation was so strong that, willing your mind could override your physical short circuitry, it would have ejected itself out of its damaged shell and crashed into his open chest.

“Lee-” You rasped. Your voice was an exclamation within but manifested into a barely audible moan.

The minute noise grasped his attention, though.

Your phantom limbs bounced with touch starved compulsion when his head whipped around. You finally laid actual eyes on your favorite features sculpted by the universe.

“Lee-vi.” You croaked. The excitement of saying his name sapped what little energy you had from you as you fell into the little girl’s awaiting palms once more.

You lingered momentarily on the rickety bridge between consciousness and nothingness, listening to his muffled frantic calls. A warm wind rocked the bridge as his hands against your cheeks hit you like a summer heat wave. His touch endowed you with newfound vigor and your eyes opened once again.

He hovered mere inches from your face. The skin you longed to embrace was carved with petal-soft streams of tears that pooled from his desperate eyes and traversed porcelain slopes to drip down his chin. Your eyes instantly brimmed with salty gratitude upon being able to swim in those stormy seas of silver.

“Levi…” You breathily whimpered, the corners of your mouth quivering upward as what felt like years of being trapped in a bottle. Ten minutes he had grappled for his name on your lips but to you, it had left like a passing fancy.

“It’s me. It’s me-Y/N, it’s me .” He reassured for both himself, and for you. His voice wobbled with the desperate tambour of a colt eager to stand on its own among spring grass. The sheer quaking of his form; from his deeply furrowed brow, to the tears that fell in divine pools, to the frantic hesitation of his touches was in a magnitude that you had never seen in him before.

“Levi.” You sighed again, a weak smile sluggishly tugging at the corners of your lips. Like a chick learning to chirp you repeated his name as a mantra.

And by Ymir every time you chirped he vibrated at a frequency you couldn’t outwardly match.

“I’m here, Y/N.” He cooed as his emptiness finally filled with the colors of your essence. He pressed your foreheads together and basked in the warmth of your skin. “And you’re finally here.”

The simple physical touch satisfied both of your needy minds; Levi to know you were awake and you to feel like you were present. He wanted to say more. Explode with everything he had seen and felt these past few days. To unload what felt like months of unshared memories in your absence. But he didn’t want to overwhelm you any more. So he settled on four words.

“I love you, Y/N.” He uttered. You could hear the incoming flow of tears diluting his tone. Those words had fallen from his lips countless times since your accident, both internally and externally, but now they actually fell upon you. And it felt like nothing else mattered. “I love you, I love you.”

“And I love you.” You cried, fingers ever so tiredly trailing up his arm to weakly touch the softness of his hair. The strands glided between your languid flutters. There you stayed basking in the feeling of home and letting the bulbs of your love bloom between you.

“Wh...where are we? It looks like…” You trailed off as your head lolled onto his shoulder. Your eyes trailed the room, from window to wall and bureau to bedside table.

“We’re at Oma’s.” Levi explained as he smoothed down some hairs tangled in your drool from the corner of your mouth.

“Oma…” Relief was evident in your exhale. There was no other place and no other sheets you would rather be cocooned in than your childhood room after the last image your eyes captured was that carrion swamp of toothy rocks.

“She’s here then?” You asked, blinking to make sure you were actually awake.

“She left a bit ago to run errands with Felicia-”

“Felicia…” Your lips wandered over their names as if you were recalling them from a story read long ago.

“Mhm. She and Oma have been taking care of you.” Levi checked your eyes for any signs of dilation and disorientation as you processed everything. Everything seemed fine until you groaned when a chord of pain shot up your taught muscles.

“My side hurts.” You complained as your body reflexively stretched.

“I know. Don’t try to move too quickly.” Levi instructed gently. He tried to reposition you into a less painful sitting position with as much sweetness as his voice.

“How bad is it?” You bared your teeth as he shifted you. Levi kept his face from cringing at the memory of Oma fabricating a new seam for your flesh. He played with your fingers to keep your attention on staying awake.

“Oma had to stitch almost your entire side. You...had lost a lot of blood already before I found you. But I was able to put enough pressure on it to keep you-” Levi swallowed and finished his sentence with a deep inhale.

The grotesque images of the incident were painted in thick brush strokes along the bow of your brain. To push them down you focused your gaze on Levi’s doting touches and the smoothness of his milky skin.

“Do you remember what happened?” He pressed, gentle and hesitant.

You hummed in affirmation. You were sure not even the void could remove the scars left upon you by death’s cradle; both physically and mentally.

“Connie and I were alone. We were clearing out the titans to the west when Reiner knocked the wind out of me and I fell right into the abnormal…” You felt Levi’s fingers twitch in aggravation. You were too exhausted now to feel that intense hatred that had been palm-up body slammed into you.

“It grazed my side with its teeth...but I managed to take it down.” You drew in a ragged breath, the pseudo-smell of carcasses overpowering the sweet smell of the tea still steeping in the kettle nearby.

“I...I felt like what being chewed alive is like, Levi.”

Your utter outpouring of torture and fearful tears had Levi’s heart shattering all over again as it had the moment he retrieved your limp body from that sticky pool of blood. He caged the animosity that steamed under his skin for Reiner’s negligence, for the titan’s bloodlust, and for the dangerous oath both of you had taken. He had more to be grateful for right now than angry over.

His thumbs pressed feather-light kisses to your water lines, drying the flooded areas. He brought his hands to your cheeks and leaned in close so you were forced to reside within the shining slate mines of his irises.

“You’re alright now. You’re here, I’m here. You made it out, sweetheart, and nothing will be able to bring you back to that moment.” Levi said with a firmness and sincerity that bathed you in immediate serenity.

Levi rarely used pet-names with you. His terms of endearment came in the form of actions and gestures rather than words. Only when he wanted to communicate something deeper, a feeling he would never come close to conveying with his vocabulary, did they break through the surface.

“I’m assuming I fucked him up since I’m still alive.” You tried to joke as dizziness further loosened its constricting grip on your head.

“From what I saw, you absolutely fucked him up.” Levi cracked a smile when you wheezed out a laugh.

“Did Eren-?” You began. Your blackout had left you with many unanswered questions.

“I don’t know. By the time I had seen your flare they had already disappeared.” He answered.

“Don’t even.” He added. He sifted through your disorientation and hurt to find the fledgling tendrils of guilt creeping up your brow.

“None of us expected that attack. We all did what we could and no one can fault us for that.”

You chewed the inner corner of your lip and let his words sink in.

“You fought so well. You protected Connie and killed that abnormal who most likely would have gone on to kill someone else. I’m proud of you.”

Your bottom lip quivered under his earnest praise.

You strained towards him and Levi realized you were attempting to give him a kiss. He hesitated momentarily, afraid of embracing you in a sore spot or accidentally pressing you backwards at an awkward angle. With a delicate crane of his neck he met you more than halfway. His lips fell upon yours with the tenderness of a newborn fawn’s footsteps but the ferocity of lovers parted by a great ocean.

He drew back to see a pout where his lips had just resided.

“What is it?”

“I really have to pee.” You stated.

Levi’s rocking waves of baritone laughter and his steady arms lifted you from your bed.

“I want to try walking.” You proclaimed with determination, gaze focused straight ahead on the ensuite bathroom.

Levi was impressed with how well you tottered across the room, with his structural support of course. He would wince every time you did but you didn’t let the fire in your side impede your locomotion.

“Do you need me to stay?” He asked in genuine concern. He watched you skeptically as you wobbled above the toilet.

“You pervert.” You huffed, grimacing at the tightness in your thighs as you crouched down. “But yes please.”

Once business had been taken care of and you had assured him you felt coordinated enough to slowly walk back to bed yourself, Levi had gone to clean up his fallen tea cup. He had just finished dabbing the bedside rug with a rag when your sniffle dragged him to his feet.

The fabric of your nightgown, despite being silken to the touch, had snagged the rough skin of your stitches like sharp brambles as you bunched it up to your breasts. With your torso fully exposed to your morbidly curious gaze, you had never been more disgusted with yourself.

Your body resembled the two sides of a coin in how starkly different they looked. Supple curves flowed beautifully into strong and nimble legs. Across the way, a crescent moon of scissored flesh dug its hooks into your once smooth skin. Lightning bolts of broken blood vessels and bruising held your thigh to your hips like a haphazardly made corn doll.

“I’ve never looked so weak.” Your disbelief manifested itself in a dark chuckle. The image of your battered body had left you in shock at your forced metamorphosis. Your fingertips barely tapped at your stitches as if they were repulsed to be in the vicinity of your wound.

You couldn’t tear your eyes away from your tears until Levi’s body carefully wrapped around yours from behind. He didn’t dare touch your scarring, but he did intertwine your hands with his and placed his head on your shoulder.

“I don’t think you’ve ever looked so strong.” He whispered with an airy kiss to your neck. You looked up to meet his eyes in the mirror and your chest clenched at his unfiltered adoration.

“You will heal. And to speed that up you need to not push yourself.” Levi gently ushered you away from the mirror and turned you back towards the bed.

As you walked, your gaze fell to the open bedroom door. Your eyes began to water once again, pooling at your bottom lids like the body of water you now cried for. Levi anxiously regarded you and your newest bout of tears.

“Levi...is Puddle?” You coughed. A heavy rock of dread plummeted into your stomach. You couldn’t recall the last time you had seen your other beloved boy. Levi grinned fondly.

“He’s fine. He’s out in the pasture.” He assured you. He felt the breath you had been holding release against his side and you continued your journey back to bed.

Once you had practically deflated back into the blankets, it dawned on Levi that you would need sustenance.

“Are you hungry? Thirsty? Lightheaded?” He mused like a mother hen.

“All of the above but I don’t think I can stomach anything right now.”

“I’ll just get water, then.” He decided and dipped out of the room. The steady tick-tock of the carved clock and the twittering of the birds above you almost lulled you to sleep when Levi re-emerged.

The water was unpleasant; too cool against the dryness of your throat. As you forced yourself to gulp it down, you registered Levi’s outfit. The realization made you lightly gasp.

“What’s wrong?” Levi bristled, fearing one of your organs decided to pop.

“Those clothes…” You whispered as you licked the final droplets of water from your lips.

Shit, were you upset he had borrowed them? Maybe he was encroaching on something precious.

“Y/N I didn’t-”

You shook your head and smiled sweetly.

“They look good on you.” You giggled at the blush that rose on his pale cheeks.

“The pants are a little too long though...shorty.” You winked weakly. Levi was relieved that you felt alright enough to tease him. It was a more than welcome nuisance.

“Not my fault everyone in your family besides Oma seem to be giants.” He countered as he sat down on the empty side of the bed.

“Oh Ymir, I’ve been out for...how long have I been unconscious?”

“Two and a half days.”

“ Shit , that means you’ve been all alone with Oma.” You whined. “I take full responsibility for anything she’s done or said.”

Levi shut you up with another kiss the consistency of butterfly wings. He pulled back and your heart fluttered at the light in his features.

“We get along pretty well.”

“She hasn’t scarred you yet? That’s a first.”

“I didn’t say that.” He replied with impish jest.

“We...understand one another.” Levi stated simply. You beamed at his comment and gave him a once over, noting his seemingly pristine physical condition.

“You’re doing okay? You look fine.”

“My shoulder is bruised and I feel stiff but that’s it.” He reassured with a spirited flex of his shoulder blades.

Your mouth hung open in incoming speech when a crashing at the base of the stairs followed by two sets of groans interrupted you.

“Dammit Felicia just-place them at the bottom of the stairs. No! See I knew this was going to happen, your arms are the consistency of chicken legs. You could have easily made a second trip from the carriage.” Oma scolded her with fiery disappointment obvious in her tone.

You and Levi exchanged amused glances at the antics below the stairs.

“Levi, are you up here?” Oma called as she ascended to the second floor. You bit your lips in anticipation of your reunion with your grandmother.

“I’m in here.” Levi replied with a squeeze of your hand.

“That foolish girl has just spilled half of her suitcase onto the floor.” The old woman complained as she approached your bedroom. A pair of crutches under one arm and a fresh package of bandages entered your room just before she did.

“I mean, really, she has to be aware that she has the strength of a bumbleb-”

“Hi Oma.” You hiccuped. Your cheerful greeting faded into a whimper at the sight of her. She looked as lively and as lovely as you had last seen her. The crutches fell to the floor with a sharp clatter and she turned to you with wide eyes.

“ Oh , my darling.” She croaked, gliding to your side and smothering you with careful kisses on every corner of your face. Levi pulled away to let the weeping woman embrace her kin. You buried your head into her shoulder and sighed into her familiar cradle.

The beautiful, joyously tearful reunion drove that stake of peculiar familial warmth deeper into Levi’s chest as he silently watched on as Oma and you began to catch up.

“Y/N!” Felicia screamed. She stood at the foot of the bed utterly petrified with relieved shock.

“Hi Felicia.” A grin parted the wetness on your face. She was quick to take you into her arms as well, and held you there as she rambled on about how ecstatic she was that you were awake.

“Thank you for taking care of me.” You said as she pulled away. Your eyes crinkled and her’s mirrored yours.

“All of you.” You added, looking to every one of your earthly angels around you. “What time is it?”

“Half past three.” Oma said, squinting at the clock.

“Aw, I missed my morning coffee.”

The once fragile room was filled with hearty laughter and smiles for the rest of that afternoon.

↞↠↞↠↞↠

After spending the next few hours lazing with second swigs of tea and half eaten dinner plates, Levi gave your interlocked palms a squeeze. He broke away and padded out of the room to give you and Oma much needed alone time. The clanking of porcelain against the sink drew his attention to the kitchen archway and he paused momentarily along his descent.

“It sounds like an earthquake is breaking all of your dishes.” Levi commented dryly. Felicia yelped in surprise, generating even more clanking.

“Eek, I apologize if my cleaning has been bothering you! Oh walls, has it been loud enough to disturb Y/N??” She buzzed in anxiety. Levi threw her a half smile.

“I was joking. Clearly you didn’t take it that way...do you need help?” He said and leaned in the archway to the kitchen.

“O-oh...ahahah.” She sputtered and offered a wiggly, but calmer, grin back. “No, I’m all good here despite the noise. So no need to trouble yourself! Although I know you do love cleaning…”

Levi deadpanned into a single nod and continued out to the front porch. Two rocking chairs perched themselves along the ornate railing as they relished in the feature film that was the evening tulips. The fields were dulled by the blue haze of the encroaching moonlight.

He plopped down into the aged wood and took in his new favorite smell; country air. He had absolutely no idea what he had been missing with the must and dust of the underground and the metallic smell of blood against pine needles outside the walls.

He let time take the backseat to his rocking as he mildly entertained himself by finding shapes in the swaying flowers. His hand absentmindedly fiddled with the contents of his pocket. He sighed contently and brought them out of their cotton resting place and into the open. The two little bands of gold were illuminated against the pale floral sea.

A snort jolted the rings back into his pocket and whipped his head to the source. His body stiffened like an agitated teenager harboring stolen alcohol. Oma had appeared with a pony, a creature of small mousey brown and stout stature. It bore a harness with large wicker baskets hanging from either side of its chubby shoulders.

“Wanna help a brittle old woman with some last minute harvesting? I’m extremely behind on today’s work for obvious reasons." Oma invited with spice in her tone. If she had seen the jewelry, she was very convincing at hiding otherwise. Levi indulged in the rocking chair, creaking back and forth a couple times, before heaving himself up silently.

“It will do you good to get those muscles moving.” She said, patting his good shoulder as he neared. Once he was standing next to her she gripped his collar and yanked it downward. Levi faltered at the unexpected grapple and stumbled backwards. She peeped under the cloth, admiring the progress of her handiwork.

“Looks good still.” She affirmed, playfully snapping the band back and she waltzed into the field. “Damn I’m one hell of a seamstress.”

Levi followed the pony’s hoofprints down the main lane until the house was barely in view. They arrived at a patch of tulips the color of midday sunshine and lemon drop candy.

“Alright, look here boy.” She rubbed her hands together in anticipation. Levi regarded her as she kneeled down in front of her chosen flowers, one of the wicker baskets loyally resting at her side.

“It’s not as simple as pulling the damned thing up, you might tear the bulb out that way. If you do that you owe me whatever I would have earned from the re-cultivation of that tulip.” She sternly explained, sending him daggers in her eyes he had come to recognize held no malice.

Levi watched carefully as she dug out around the base of the stem, twisted gently with a firm grasp, and lifted, effortlessly releasing the flower from its anchor. He kneeled down in his picking area and mimicked her movements. After a couple broken stems and constructive criticism they had fallen into a steady rhythm.

“So...do you want to show me what’s jangling around in your pocket?” Oma inquired with a sly innocence. Levi eyed her with his grasp mid stem. Her features were smug with knowledge.

“You want to see what is inside my pocket?” Levi quipped back as he yanked the flower from its birthplace.

“Uh-huh.”

“Like...lint?” Levi returned matter-of-factly. He was grateful straight facing was his most coveted skill in interrogations such as these.

Oma cackled and blew the excess dirt from her fingertips.

“I saw the rings, Levi. No use playing dumb with me.” She stopped her harvest and gauged him for a reaction.

Levi cleared his throat and continued working.

“How do you know I wasn’t keeping them safe for Erwin’s wedding to his eyebrows?” Levi replied with an even tone. He cringed at his bullshit.

“Now that’s a wedding I’d like to be invited to.” Oma laughed, and Levi couldn’t help but grin at his absolute shitty cover up.

“It doesn’t- didn’t - really matter that much to me. Getting married.” He began as his hand hovered over the wind kissed petals of his next flower. It took a couple of soft sways for him to decide how to articulate his feelings.

“Why should I let a piece of paper, a circlet of metal, and some holy man manifest a promise that I’ve already committed to her myself?”

Oma hummed along in acknowledgment.

“But...realizing how much marriage meant to her made me place my opinions aside and realize I was being selfish in my reservations.”

A grasshopper popped in and out of the columns of stems.

“She’s never made a big deal out of it, but I’m not blind. I see the way she fawns over wedding dresses and how her eyes light up when she sees families on the street.”

His tone grew somber as thoughts of doubt flooded his mind. When the thought of becoming a husband and even a father crossed his mind he shoved them immediately into the darkest corners of his subconscious. But despite those intimate fears, he would never doubt he wanted to make you happy for the rest of his days.

“I want to give Y/N something that she can cherish for a long time in a world where everything we have seems so temporary. And standing through a ceremony celebrating our commitment...I guess isn’t the worst thing I could think of.”

With a slow exhale, he removed the rings from his pocket and held them up. Oma noted he regarded them with the same tenderness he reserved for you. His self awareness and lack of confidence intertwined with the utter devotion she could see he had for you brewed a hearth in her chest.

“Well, congratulations. They’re lovely. She’s going to absolutely love them.” Pure fondness spread through every crevasse in Oma’s face and overwhelmed Levi with domesticity. He averted her gaze and repocketed his trinkets. He grunted awkwardly with a nod.

“Thank you.” She said and began working again.

“For what?” Levi’s brow furrowed as he too resumed.

“For loving her, and receiving her love in return. It sounds like a lot of fairy-tale bullshit and troll scrotums, but love is quite the powerful ally.”

He rose his head to a crinkled smile and he nodded with a half moon of his own on his lips. His smile, however, did not betray the bleakness in his features.

A comfortable silence fell over the two of them as they continued to pluck the beauties from their earthy homes. They eavesdropped on the occasional yowl from a fox and the croaking of toads.

“Do you know what makes a good, sturdy, lively tulip, shorty?” Oma asked as she strong-armed one from the ground. She examined the flower with eyes that Levi’s own vision would never be able to duplicate.

“Water.” He guessed offhandedly, flicking a worm off of the roots of his own flower.

The older woman scoffed at the blandness of his answer.

“If that’s all it took, I’d be richer and my lower back wouldn’t ache like a bitch.” She cackled. “You’ve got the basic idea. But you haven’t even scratched the most important bits.”

Levi’s verbal silence pressed her to continue as he scooted over to the next patch nearest to him.

“First you need rich soil. If you live where that soil is contaminated-ya know too much clay, too little nutrients. Then you need to physically make the soil capable of growing life.” She began with a bulky wheeze as she lifted her basket to reposition herself over her floral children.

“Here, thankfully the soil is loose, airy, and just a bit sandy. But that wasn’t the case at our old place. A downright hard job it was to get those little bastards to grow. But we did.”

“Once you’ve got your soil sorted out, you need the bulbs. Some of the bulbs won’t make it. That’s just how it is. But the ones that do poke their little heads above the ground and leave their dark incubations.”

“Then comes the water.” She looked at him pointedly and he rolled his eyes. “It’s the one constant thing in a tulip’s life that nurtures it into maturity.”

“How versed are you in tulip anatomy?” Oma asked as she held her latest victim up. Levi blinked at her.

“Expertly.”

His sass made her smirk.

“Well, then you’ll know that petals-arguably the most cherished and viewed piece-are a part of the tulip. So is the stamen, pistil, and pedicel.” She lectured while supporting her points with gestures to the places on the plant she was talking about.

“While they are all interconnected with the flower, they aren’t the whole tulip.” She stated. She threw the saffron colored flower in an underhand swoop to Levi who caught it effortlessly. He twirled the soft skin of the largest petals between his thumb and index finger as she talked before tossing it into his own basket.

“There’s a lot nature can teach us about ourselves. I mean we’re all natural beings, even the titans.” She said with pursed lips and swiftly grabbed at the pony’s halter when she saw him mouthing for the buffet in her basket.

“That’s why I’ve stuck with this job for so long. By looking at them, they remind me that my oddities, mistakes, and what-have-you, may linger with me and be a part of me...but they aren’t all of me. There’s still a bulb down there under the earth waiting to re-blossom.”  

Levi now understood the depth of her analogy. Normally, if someone was beating around the bush to tell him he needs to cheer up he would have either slammed the door in their face, or their face into the door. But this didn’t feel like that. Her words seeped into his heart and rested there in what he could only begin to grasp as...parental warmth.

“That’s what you need to do to help yourself, I’ve learned. To cultivate learning to live with yourself and then in turn others.” She sighed as she pressed the disturbed soil back into place.

When Levi looked down, his hands were suddenly so small and so caked in dirt. But not dirt from the fields. No, it was an oily, slick dirt that tasted like oxidized metal when he ate stale bread from them.

“Tulips don’t live forever even though they blossom every year. Life could not exist without death, and it only hurts yourself to deny mortality in you and in others. It only makes you suffer, not the loved ones that have passed before you or the ones that slipped through your fingers.”

He was shaking like he used to when his malnourished body constantly teetered on the edge of starvation. His bony wrists buckled under the immense weight of the flower and it tumbled to the ground in front of him. He wore a once expensive sleeping gown gifted to his mother by one of her regulars. It was clearly for her, but she had given it to her poor son to provide him with that extra warmth when she was too sick to wrap him in her love herself. It was tattered and stained from years of wear. But it still smelled of her.

“Everyone and everything in this world of ours must die. Life is a precious gift with that knowledge. And a gift so precious can’t be wasted on beating yourself down for existing, for living . Self proclaimed demons and mistakes in all.”  

Levi felt the childish pressure of tears building behind his eyes. He wished to choke out a whine, to let them burst out, to feel the safety of his mother’s chest against his wet cheeks instead of her lifeless embrace. He felt the tantrum of frustration at all of this emotion he kept so expertly under lock and key. His bare toes sank into the flowers behind him as he knelt on the soil just as he did the cramped trailer where he resided when his mother worked in their room.

He finally felt like a child in the presence of a mother’s comfort. Oma’s consolation brought back that gangly, mute, shelled boy. The boy who had to grow up into a man overnight, surrounded by reflections in knives and last words as screams. The boy who never had the chance to cry it out about foolish things like his mother not being able to take him on a walk through the city, like his bloated belly eating itself instead of dinner, like never being able to see the sun. The boy who was always the pillar for others and never had a guardian to stroke his head and tell him that better days are coming.

“I’m rambling like this because I see the intense self loathing in you that I used to feel for myself-” She half chuckled to make light of her weighted words. The dry laugh faded into the air with the rest of her sentence when she gazed upon him. Her smile dropped as bubbling tears cascaded over his dark bottom lashes.

“Oh, my dear.” Oma gasped out a breathy coo. She instantly dropped her basket, not caring if her naughty pony ate some of her crop. She flew to him; her knees before his and her hand pressing his head to her shoulder. Her other arm rubbed ginger ovals into his back that urged him to crumple into her strong embrace.

For a moment, he wondered if this is what his mother would have felt like if she hadn’t been so frail. He could only guess that this is the feeling he had missed. The childhood was never nurtured into him. The childhood he had forsaken for survival. And in a twisted way, he was now more than ever thankful for the horrors of his youth as he nestled into Oma’s loving arms. Because he was beginning to understand that his own life was precious. Not just yours or Oma’s or Felicia’s or Erwin’s or Petra’s or everyone he fought for.

She was right, and Levi was too prideful to tell her how grateful he was for her in this moment.

“I.” He fought to swallow his shame in his childish behavior, but the soft strokes of her fingers through his hair and the solace in his chest at her gentle rocking plunged it down his esophagus.

“I needed to hear that.” His voice quivered into the puffy fabric of her shoulder.

"We all do." Oma hummed and continued her ministrations, allowing him to tearfully bleed a lifetime of juvenile sorrows onto her and out of him.

Maybe he did need to let his withered leaves and wilted colors fall from his body, leaving him with just his skeleton and his heart.

↞↠↞↠↞↠

The creaking of the wood under his boots was the only sound in the dim darkness of the newborn night as he made his way upstairs. He paused at your door, glancing in to see you tucked back under the sheets. A half smile carried him back to his temporary chambers to wash up. He managed to fully wash the silt from under his fingernails and his knuckles while still keeping Oma's comfort there.

When he deemed himself fully cleansed, he slunk through the crack in your doorway without causing the hinges on the old wood to groan. He deftly sat in the chair still positioned next to your form. His eyes softened at the slight twitch of your nose and your steady breaths.

Just as he began admiring the warm glow of life rising back up into your skin, your eyelashes fluttered in greeting.

“Did I wake you?” He whispered, his voice devoid of anything but airy tenderness.

You shook your head, the plushness of your pillow swallowing your face then regurgitating it up.

“No, I was just resting my eyes.” You blatantly lied through a smile that was blinding in comparison to the muted candle light.

“I’ve slept too much these past few days. I don’t want to right now…” You began with the saddest attempt at a pout Levi had ever witnessed. Just speaking that sentence already almost sent you into another deep slumber.

“Then just keep resting your eyes then, instead of sleeping.” Levi whispered as you trailed off in obvious exhaustion. He pressed his hand to your forehead, blissfully cool from the tap water, and moved your hair away. In its place, his lips placed the sweet hum of affectionate proximity on your skin.

You registered the chair rubbing against the floorboards through the incoming sleep.

“Will you stay, Levi?” You asked, doe eyes blinking up through the gray.

You didn’t even have to ask him.

“I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.”

You felt the bed dip to your left. He settled in beside you on his side, his arm a firm resting place for his head as he gazed upon you through the night veil. He didn’t draw you to him as he usually would. It would scar him if he selfishly undid the hard work of Oma and Felicia. For now, just basking in the aura of your wellbeing was enough of a security blanket. You weakly shifted so your head was perched in his direction.

The two of you laid in silent fear of sleep. You didn’t want your beautiful little angel to carry you back into the void. Levi didn’t want his demons to vouch all of this as a practical joke and take you from him when he rose the next morning.

“Levi.”

“Hmm?”

“You called her Oma.” You mumbled, finally relenting into the arms of rest.

“I did.”

#Levi fanfiction #Levi Heichou #levi x reader #levi fluff #LEVI ACKERMAN #AoT #aot fluff #aot x reader #snk x reader #snk #attack on titan #attack on titan fanfiction #shingeki no kyojin #shingeki no kyoujin fanfiction #anime fanfiction #Jean Kirschstein #bisexual jean #hange zoe #levi ackerman x reader

[kiribaku-queen]

Let’s gooo! How about Oikawa x reader, but it’s a secret relationship (married) because she’s a trainer alongside Iwa, but she starts getting shipped with Iwa and pictures of them hugging show up... Basically Oikawa isn’t stupid, he KNOWS they aren’t doing anything behind his back but he does get jealous. So roll around to the Olympics and Iwa and reader are being asked about their relationship and bam Oikawas had enough so he comes over, kisses her and is like this is MY wife so fuck off and stop shipping her with my BESTFRIEND HAHAH

She’s Mine

Pairing: Oikawa x reader

Fluff

Word count: 2.6K

A/N: Thank you for being the first requester ever! I hope this is to your liking. I was actually worried that it wouldn’t be long enough but it actually turned out longer than I was expecting! I tried to make it funny and add Oikawa’s personality to give it that flavour. I’d love to know what you think about it anon! Thank you for your support! <3

“One touch!”

“Chance ball!”

“Get it over!”

The gym was loud with calls from their teammates, every player wanting to play their best even if it was just a practice game. You watched from the bleaches, eyes shining with admiration when you watch a certain brown haired boy spike, earning his team a point.

“Yes!” he cheered for himself and then turned to face you. “(y/n) did you see that?! That was for you baby!” he shouted, making the rest of his teammates laugh and you all red and embarrassed. You just signaled a thumbs up and let them continue with their practice game. You didn’t want to interfere, no matter how much your husband was already interfering.

“Oi, Oikawa! Focus on the game, not your wife! You can do that after!” Iwaizumi scolded him. Oikawa waved him off, his attention back on the game.

“This guy…” Iwa said under his breath. You giggled to yourself and looked at the clipboard in front of you. You were still learning how to effectively position people so that they can play their best against their opponent. And Iwa was there to help you. You guess who could say you were his assistant coach. But it was hard trying to stay professional while your husband is on the team you are coaching.

It was no surprise to the team that you guys were married. Your wedding pictures with them in the background drunk was proof enough. But you had to keep your marriage secret from the rest of the world. And this was purely based on your decision. Oikawa has always been popular, ever since high school. When he became pro, he gained even more followers. You saw it first hand. Some fans could be really obsessive and scary. Though, you knew that most fans would be supportive of you two, but you really didn’t want to risk it. You weren’t scared that they were going to come after you. Actually, you have been preparing for it ever since you got together in case you got exposed early on in your relationship. You didn’t want his fans to freak out and then he would lose his popularity over it. You were so scared that it would permanently damage his career. So you both kept it a secret. For now, at least.

“Good work today!” Iwa shouted. The boys immediately fell to the floor, exhausted. But your hubby didn’t do that. Instead, he ran up to you as soon as he finished practice to embrace you in the tightest hug.

“Babe!” you laughed and tried pushing him away. You pushing away only made him hug you tighter. And since you were trying to run away from him, he added in a few smooches just for fun.

“Okay, okay,” Iwa tugged on Oikawa’s collar to pull him away from you. “You can hug your wife later. Go clean up.” He ordered. With a pout, he left but never failed to look back at you and give you kissy faces. You were also cleaning up, putting the volleyballs away and packing up your things in your duffle bag.

“(y/n),” Iwa called to you and to ran up to him immediately. “What do you think about this line up for the game this weekend?” he asked you. You got close to look at the plan he laid out. As you and Iwa were discussing, a photographer snuck into the private gym and hid in the stands.

“Shit, looks like practice is over,” he cursed to himself. How was he going to get a good scoop now? He looked around the gym. None of the players were around. Just the coaches and maybe a few other irrelevant people. He wanted an exclusive showing how practice was going for the big team, but now he never going to get a good picture in if no one was here. The photographer was about to leave, when out of the corner of his eye, he saw you standing next to the team’s coach. You were wearing the team’s colors and outfit. So you had to be a coach if you were standing close to coach Iwaizumi. You were standing a little too close. And you two were laughing. And play fighting? And flirting? The photographer smirked.

“Now this could be a story,” he said as he snapped a few shots of you and Iwa together. Then he made his way out of the gym, looking at the freshly took pictures for his story.

“Honey!” Oikawa came running with his bag hanging loosely over his shoulder. You ran towards him, meeting halfway and you jumped into his arms. “Ready to go home?”

“Mhm!” you hummed, placing a kiss on his lips. He kissed with equal force, if not harder, and gently set you back down on the ground.

“Still up for lunch tomorrow?” Oikawa turned to his best friend.

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll meet you guys there,” he said. Oikawa then wrapped his arm around your waist and held you close.

“Let’s go,” he told you. You looked back at Iwa as you left the gym.

“See you later, Iwa-chan!” you waved at him.

“Mhm, good work today!” he yelled back. He wouldn’t have to yell if Oikawa hadn’t kept you from continuously walking away, further and further from him. But Oikawa was always one to be touchy and protective so it was nothing new. And he was trying to be as lovey-dovey as he could because once they were out in public, absolutely no touching.

The next day, lunch rolls around and Iwaizumi is already waiting for you two at the restaurant you picked out.

“You’re late,” Iwa stated. You sat down, apologizing profusely while your husband just laughs it off.

“Sorry! Someone was in the bathroom too long,” you glared at the man beside you. He scoffed and pointed an accusing finger at you.

“I was ready before you! I was waiting so long, by the time you got out of the bathroom, I had to take a shit,” Oikawa explained himself.

“Well you should have just held it in!”

“I can’t hold my shits in!”

“Well I can!”

“That is so unhealthy,” Iwa chimed in, shaking his head in disappointment. “Why are we even having this conversation?”

“She started it,” Oikawa breathed but oh, you could hear it. And you were about to retort back if it wasn’t for Iwa to stop another oncoming argument.

“Okay, okay. Let’s just order. I’m starving,” Iwa stated, looking over the menu. It took the guys a few minutes to figure out what they wanted but you were stuck on two options. Glancing around the room, you saw another table that had the same order you wanted and boy did it look delicious. The only problem? The portion was gigantic. There was no way you were going to finish all that. So you did what any girlfriend would do.

“Babe, can you share with me?” you asked Oikawa, giving him a pouty face.

“Mm, but I’ll still be hungry later,” he said, giving you an apologetic look.

“But it’s too much food!” you stated, trying to reason with him. If they had a half portion, you would definitely take that. But unfortunately, there was no such thing.

“I’ll eat your leftovers, how about that?” he compromised, making you equally as happy.

“Tank you,” you said in the cutest baby voice that you know he loves. He gushes at how cute you are.

“Anything for you, my love,” he says back in an equally cute tone and touched noses with you. Iwaizumi is just watching this all unfold in front of him. And to think they were just arguing a second ago. He pretends to have a disgusted look on his face but on the inside, he’s happy that you two found each other. Of course, he’s never going to admit that and never will he ever mention it…. EVER.

Time flies when you’re with your two best friends. You guys could talk about everything and anything, arguing back and forth, making fun of each other, having deep talks, you do it all. Sometimes its hard to believe that you guys work together and it makes you cringe how professional you have to be with each other because you’re not used to it at all. You’re already finished with your food because you couldn’t even stomach all that. Now, you were just waiting on the boys to finish up. Especially, Oikawa since he also had to each your leftovers.

“I’ll be back. I’m gonna wash my hands real quick,” Oikawa announces and heads for the men’s room. You and Iwa were left at the table together. You lean your elbows on the table and rest your chin in your hands.

“You think we’re gonna win tomorrow?” you asked Iwa. He’s much more knowledgeable that you were after all.

“Even if we don’t, it’s no big deal. But I want you to take charge tomorrow so you can get the feel and practice,” he explained. You internally, and maybe externally, groaned. You didn’t feel like you were ready and now all the pressure was going to get to your head. “So if we lose tomorrow, it’s all your fault.”

“Iwa!” you smacked his hand across the table. He kept poking fun and laughing at you, loving the reactions you were giving him. If no one knew you guys, they’d think you were dating. And that’s exactly what Mr. Photographer was thinking.

He had just arrived at the restaurant you guys were eating at, watching from behind a few trees with a big camera in hand. You were laughing at something Iwaizumi had said, earning him a few, nice shots. The photographer made sure to get the food presented on the table, as well as a few cute snaps of you two play fighting, laughing and smiling with each other. He was going to wait around longer, in case you two kissed, but he was too eager to write this new news story that he left when he got enough pictures of you two. When the photographer left, Oikawa came back to pay the check and you were on your way out.

 It’s the morning of the game and you were fixing up some coffee while Oikawa sat at the dining table, eating the breakfast that you prepared for him. Both of you were minding your own business; you jamming out and singing to your music and your husband reading the news on his phone. Everything was in the ordinary until Oikawa spotted an article that made him do a double take.

[BREAKING] Coach Iwaizumi and Assistant (y/n) Dating!!!

“Honey?” he calls out for you in a questioning tone, like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing you. You go over to him, coffee in hand and hug him from behind with your chin resting on his shoulder.

“What is it, love?” you ask and take a sip of your coffee.

“Look at this,” he says and brings his phone up so you can see it as clear as day. “You and Iwa? Dating?! And look at these pictures. What are these?!” You take a closer look and its definitely you and Iwaizumi. But the first picture was from the other day when you were going over positioning. And then the other picture was from yesterday at lunch. Out of context, you guys did look close and lovey-dovey… but it was all false. The more Oikawa looked at these pictures, the more irritated and jealous he got. For heavens sake, he was there both times! And that dumb paparazzi couldn’t see that you and him were together?

“Babe, looks like I’m dating your best friend now,” you laugh but Oikawa didn’t find it funny. He had a big, old pout sitting on his lips and seeing that? You knew it was going to be drama, drama, drama all day.

“Baby, don’t pout. It’s all just rumors. I love you and only you,” you try to cheer him up by giving him as many cheek kisses as you could. Your husband loved that but it didn’t make him feel any better. He should be the one in that article title not Iwa-chan.  “It is kind of funny though, I’ll have to let Iwa know later.” You laugh it off and go back to the kitchen. Oikawa laughs too but it was fake and forceful. The moment you went back to the kitchen, his smile drops and a frown is immediately replaced.

It was right before the game and the boys were warming up on the court. The whole ride there, Oikawa was silent. He was acting like a child but you were used to it already that you paid him no mind. You knew he was just going to let it all out during the game. You were standing next to Iwaizumi, watching them practice their spikes. But let’s be honest, you were looking at your dashing husband the whole time. When you got to the venue, you immediately told Iwa the news but he wasn’t surprised because he had already seen it. You both had a good laugh over it and dismissed it. Because what was there to discuss? The whole news was just ridiculous with no proof as backup.

“(y/n),” Iwa came up to you with a clipboard in hand. “Did you-” but before he could finish that sentence, you were both rudely interrupted by a lady shoving a microphone and camera in your face.

“Iwaizumi, (y/n), do you have time for a quick interview?” she asks you. You look up at Iwa because you weren’t used to the sudden aggression. He felt how awkward you were and was the one to speak for the both of you.

“What is it about?”

“You guys look really good together. Is it true that you are both dating?” she asks and shoves the big microphone right in your face.

“No,” Iwa butts in, giving the interviewer and the camera an unamused face.

While Oikawa was focusing on his spikes, he panned over to you just so he could see you. But what he was left a bad taste in his mouth. Interviewers were all in your face. You had a painstakingly uncomfortable expression on your face and he was so tempted to just storm over there and take you away. But professionalism. Remember that. He’s trying so hard to focus back on the warmups but his ears are listening in on your interview.

His ears perk up when he hears that you and his best friend look good together. He looks back in your direction and you were being peer pressured into telling the truth and just being bombarded with unnecessary questions. That’s it. He’s had it. You were his and no one else’s.

“Come on, (y/n). Give us a statement,” the interviewer was coming into you.

“Uhm,” you felt yourself literally backing up. The answer was said to them multiple times but they kept pushing and pushing. It started to get suffocating. And no matter how many times Iwa tried to calm down the situation, it felt like it was just getting worse. All that seemed to disappear when a hand grabs your waist from behind, spins you around and a pair of lips gently cover yours. Your eyes widen in surprise as you see Oikawa passionately kissing you. In public. And on the big screen. A wave of gasps spread throughout the venue and even the interviewer was in shock. When he lets go, you are just all around flustered and Iwa is standing on the side rolling his eyes.

“Please stop pressuring MY WIFE. And please stop shipping her with my dear friend because she’s mine,” Oikawa said to the lady and straight at the camera with a polite smile but threatening eyes.

“And you!” Oikawa dramatically points at his friend and sticks up both middle fingers. “She’s mine so you can fuck off!”

“I don’t even want her, dumbass,” Iwa informs him of the obvious. Oikawa walks off with your hand in his, proud to finally let the world know that you were his and his alone.

#oikawa x reader #oikawa fluff #haikyuu oikawa #oikawa fic #oikawa torū #oikawa oneshot #haikyuu imagine #oikawa imagine #haikyuu oneshot #haikyuu fluff #anon request

[maliby]

Diagnosis: Love (Bonus ending) | Poly route

word count: 4.7k (HOW TF DID I WRITE SO MUCH I DON’T EVEN NEED BACKSTORY)

warning: filth, explicit language, explicit sex scene, unprotected sex, cum play(?), spanking, double sausage play (wink wonk)

summary: Y/N is the new nurse at NCT Hospital - the best hospital in the  country. She was expecting it to be a big step in her career, but 'Bad  Boy' Doctor Johnny Suh and 'Valentine' Pediatrician Jeong Jaehyun take  her by surprise.

The bicycle ride from your house to Jaehyun’s was a blur to you - the city lights blended together in streaks of color, faceless people passed you by and the vehicles all became big blocks of metal. Your mind was so focused on Jaehyun and this favour he asked of you that not even the chilly air of the night was being registered by your brain.

It had been well over a month since you’d had contact on a deeper level with either Jaehyun or Johnny. You’d seen them at the Hospital - despite your best efforts to avoid the areas you knew they would be at - but simply just smiled at each other; sometimes you would even say a ‘hello’ or wish them a good day, but that was it. It’s not that you minded having contact with them - it’s the exact opposite. You were scared you were going to cave. 

You thought about the two handsome doctors day and night. You reminisced about all the times you had spent together, all the sweet words you had whispered to each other, all the times you got lost in one another’s eyes and all the times they made you scream in pleasure - you missed them. You wished you could just pick one of them and get this torture over with but you couldn’t.

Just the thought of going to Jaehyun’s home alone at night was making you a little nervous. Yes, he would leave right away, and yes, you wouldn’t be spending time with him but at the same time, you were. It was one thing to see him in a hallway filled with people during work hours, it was a whole other thing to see him alone at night in his home. No matter how short your meeting would be, it could quickly evolve into something more. One soulful stare, one lingering touch, a whiff of his cologne, and you were sure you’d lose your whole willpower.

And what about just being in his house alone? Marinating for Lord knows how many hours in his whole existence? Thinking about all the moments you had spent with him there, imagining him going by his day, feeling his presence. How were you supposed to be there and remain strong?

You parked your bike on the rack right in front of his building and locked it, saving up the key in the little backpack you were carrying. When you turned, you couldn’t help but look up to his place, the light coming up from his living room making the little butterflies in your stomach flip up and down. 

You walked to the entrance and searched for the button that rang to his house, immediately pressing it. The door buzzed open and you walked in.

If the ride here went by in a blur, the one on the elevator felt like pure torture. With each floor you would get more nervous; it was like the mini you who was controlling your brain was looking straight out of your eyes to the changing numbers on the little screen and cranking up the ‘nervous’ button bit by bit. 

You couldn’t stand still. You kept on changing the leg you were leaning on and twirling the ends of your hair until the soft ding from the elevator caught your attention. You briefly checked yourself on the big mirror behind you, fixing any stray hairs, and left.

All the way up there, you had assumed you’d have a couple more seconds to mentally prepare yourself before you eventually knocked on the door and met with Jaehyun, but he took you by surprise when you noticed him smiling at you, door already open. 

“Hey,” he said with his deep honey voice, fully gaining your attention. Your eyes met with his longing ones and you felt your guard begin to crumble, but it wasn’t until he flashed you both of his dimples in a sweet smile that you felt your inner sirens go off.

“What’s up Jaehyun?” You decided to act casual about it, after all, it was the best way to kill the evident sexual and romantic tension between the two of you. Your whole approach, though, backfired when Jaehyun presented you with his damn seductive chuckle. You panicked, and in your state of inner panic, you acted rashly and practically ran inside his house, walking right past him.

“Where’s little Jisung?” You asked while you removed your sneakers, your heart now calming down a bit as you changed the subject.

“In his room, probably.”

“Probably?” What the hell did he mean by that? Didn’t he know where the boy he considered as his own son was? That wasn’t like him.

“Yeah, most definitely.”

Jaehyun was acting weird but you decided not to pry, you just wanted him to go tend to his affairs and give you room to breathe. 

“Alright,” you neatly placed your shoes right next to the door and got up, looking right at him, “you can go now. I’ll take good care of him, don’t worry.”

You expected him to give you his thanks, pick up his stuff and leave but Jaehyun stayed put, his eyes fixated on you. Your heart picked up his pace once again. This was exactly what you were fearing the most, he was taking advantage of the moments when you’d have to interact and he was starting to make you anxious. “Jaehyun?”

“I missed you,” he softly confessed, his hand seeking yours.

“Jae…”

He took one step further, the smell of the cologne you had gifted him for his birthday hitting you right in the face. 

“Didn’t you miss me?”

He took one more step and now you were practically touching, the heat emanating from his body caressing yours.

“Mmh?” 

His hand was now on your cheek and you couldn’t help but lean into his touch. God, you missed him so much. Would it be so bad if you just gave in one time? Just this once-

“Yes.”

He smiled.

“I think about you day and night,” he confessed, making your heart dance. “I think about your smell, your hair, your eyes, your smile...your lips,” his lips were now a hairsbreadth from yours, temptation giving its best to pull you in, “your sweet lips...God, I miss kissing you.” His other hand was now running up and down your side, sending shivers straight up your spine.

“Jaehyun…” you whispered into the microscopical space that separated you from him. 

“Y/N…”

You wished more than anything that he would close that fucking space between the two of you and take your lips. Was it so bad that you wanted to cave just once? Was it so bad that you wanted a fucking break from everything? You were so done thinking and deciding that, for once, you just wished someone would take the burden off of you and decide for you. 

“Can I kiss you?” He asked as he tenderly ran little circles with the tip of his nose on your cheekbone.

You didn’t answer, you simply closed the space between you too and kissed him. Your hands snaked around his neck, pulling him closer. You missed him so much. You wanted to tell him you also thought about him day and night. You wanted to tell him you thought about every little aspect that made him who he was and you thought about all the time you had spent together but you couldn’t. You couldn’t because you also thought about someone else, and that wouldn’t be fair to him, just like this kiss wasn’t.

“Jaehyun, I can’t do this. This isn’t fair to Johnny,” you reminded him, your inner voice cursing at yourself for breaking up the kiss.

“I was starting to think you had forgotten all about me,” Johnny’s voice sounded from the hall, making you question if you had imagined everything, but you hadn’t.

“Johnny?!”

“Dude, we agreed you would only come out after I gave you the signal,” Jaehyun told him, leaving you all kinds of confused.

“Yeah, and was I supposed to stay hidden while you fucked her?”

“I was not going to have sex with her, it was just a kiss,” Jaehyun defended himself, but not even you believed him. The way he was kissing you was anything but innocent.

“Excuse me, but can somebody tell me what the fuck is going on here?” You asked, getting back the attention of both men. “Didn’t you have an emergency at the hospital?” You asked Jaehyun before you turned to Johnny who was now standing right next to his friend. “And you? What the fuck are you doing here?”

“Ouch,” he commented, pouting at your question. “Don’t tell me you don’t want me here baby.”

“It’s not that, it’s just-”

Seeing your confusion Jaehyun stepped in, ready to clear everything up. “Y/N, there was actually no emergency. I’m sorry I lied.”

“No emergency?! So Jisung…?” You trailed off, trying to make sense of everything.

“He’s not here. Only us.”

“Why would you lie to me like that?” You raised your tone, the sting of the lie making you feel used. “Did you bring me here just to try to have sex with me?!”

“No, no, no, I swear it’s nothing like that,” he quickly defended himself, a worried look on his face. You knew Jaehyun wasn’t that type of guy, but things weren’t looking that great for him.

“We’re here to help you,” Johnny spoke, leaving you even more confused.

“Help me how?”

“Have you decided who you’re going to pick?” Johnny casually asked, leaving you a bit stunned at the bluntness of his question.

“No…”

“Then Jae and I have a proposition we’d like to make you.” For some reason, his smugness was making you uneasy.

“What proposition?”

Jaehyun noticed your defensive state and immediately intervened, his calm nature easing you down. “Well, me and Johnny have been talking a lot. Mostly we started by confiding in each other about our feelings for you, seeing as only he could understand what I was feeling and vice versa.”

You were glad he was telling you this. If there was one thing you were worried about with this whole ordeal was that you would damage their friendship, but seeing as they were so open and understanding about it took a big weight off of your shoulders.

“Then, one day, we went out for drinks and the conversation reverted back to you, as it always does.”

“Only this time, it got way more, should we say, personal,” Johnny said in a slightly suggestive tone. You knew right away what he was talking about and you couldn’t help but feel your cheeks heat up.

Sensing your defensive attitude from before was all gone Johnny took one step closer to you, his fingers running up the expanse of your arm, leaving a trail of goosebumps behind.

“We talked about our most hidden desires,” he briefly paused before he moved to your back and whispered next to your ear, “about you.”

You swallowed.

Heat radiated from your core, your thighs pressing up together. Did you want to know what dirty things they talked about doing to you? Of course you fucking did, but luckily Johnny told before you could ask.

“We came to the conclusion that we wouldn’t mind...sharing you.”

Everything stopped.

Did you just hear that right? Did they want to...share you? No, you must be dreaming. It can’t be true. “You want to...share me?”

Jaehyun came closer to you, locking you between him and Johnny. “Yes.”

“Didn’t you ever fantasize about having us both at the same time?” Johnny asked, his body now completely glued to yours. He placed both of his hands on your hips and pressed a light kiss on your neck, fueling your imagination.

In fact, you had fantasized about it innumerous times. How could you not when you were in love with two equally hot guys? It was inevitable. Sometimes you’d be fantasizing about one and the other would just pop in, and others you’d go straight for the both of them. 

“Yes,” you confessed as you backed into his body, his semi pressing right into your ass.

Johnny chuckled. “I knew it.”

“H-how would it work then?” You asked, lust overpowering you.

“However you want baby,” Jaehyun said, his body now also touching yours. “Whichever way you feel more comfortable, Johnny and I will be here for you.”

“Are you two gonna get with each other?” You asked. It was not that you minded, you really were just curious. Your question though seemed to amuse Johnny.

“Do you want us to?”

“Only if you want to.”

“We’ll just go with the flow, how about that baby?” Johnny asked, his breath fanning your neck as he ground he’s now hard cock into your ass.

“Mmm, sounds good to me.”

“Then what do you say honey,” Jaehyun’s lips were now a hair’s breadth from yours, perfectly mimicking his actions from before, “will you be ours?”

You didn’t give it much thought - you didn’t have to. This was the perfect solution for your dilemma and the fact alone that you didn’t have to break anyone’s heart was good enough for you and exactly what made you lean in and kiss Jaehyun.

The kiss was a desperate one, a mixture of lip-sucking and tongue-swirling, the occasional biting of your bottom lip, leaving you breathless. 

Meanwhile, Johnny and Jaehyun seemed to be working as a team - one was removing your jacket while the other was lifting up your shirt, exposing more of your skin to their touch. Jaehyun then broke the kiss to pull your shirt over your head while Johnny took that opportunity to unhook your bra, sliding the straps right off as soon as your arms were free.

“Look at these fucking boobs,” Johnny said from beside your ear as he palmed the both of them, like a rack putting them on display for the both of them. “They’re so beautiful,” he said while squeezing them together and jiggling them up and down.

Your cheeks were tinted red as you noticed the way Jaehyun’s eyes followed the movement of your bouncing tits, his teeth catching his bottom lip as prey. 

“Look at those perky nipples,” the Doctor in front of you leaned down until he was eye-level with your chest, his fingers causing you to hiss by flicking your sensitive buds. “They make me wanna suck on them…” His face got even closer to your breasts, his warm breath hardening your nipples even more, “would you like that baby?”

“Yes,” you breathed out, your voice sounding more desperate than you intended. 

Jaehyun smiled before he attached his mouth to one of your nipples, Johnny squeezing your boobs nice and firmly to present them as an offering to his friend. The paediatrician’s tongue softly swirled around your nipple to coat it in his saliva before he placed it in his mouth and sucked. The sensation was so good that you couldn’t help but bury the back of your head into Johnny’s chest, a moan escaping your lips.

The hands of the man behind you suddenly released your breasts - Jaehyun then taking advantage and groping them by himself - and travelled further down until they reached the hem of your jeans. One of his hands then went straight to your button and unbuttoned it, giving room for the other hand to slip under the jean fabric and palm your core, the middle finger directly above your clit pressing with a bit more force.

“Fuck, you’re completely soaked,” Johnny cursed. You knew he was very affected by your wetness because he pressed his erection with particular force into your ass, his breath faltering.

Johnny pulled down your jeans a bit, exposing your ass to his covered crotch, and collected the front of your panties between his thumb and index finger, creating a wedgie that applied a delicious amount of pressure to your pussy.

“Mmmh, Johnny,” you moaned as he sucked on your neck, working hard to leave a mark.

“I missed the way you moan my name,” he confessed while he placed his feet between yours, motioning you to open your legs. “I thought about it every fucking night while I was fisting up my cock.”

At this moment Jaehyun turned his attention to your neglected nipple, making you moan once again, “Jaehyun.” This action didn’t stop Johnny though, who continued to profess dirty thing in your ear.

“I thought about your tight little pussy wrapped around my cock.” He pulled your panties to the side and ran his middle finger up and down your folds before he whispered: “I bet you’re still as tight, aren’t you baby?”

“Yes, just for you.”

Johnny smiled. His finger travelled up and down one more time before it sunk right into your hole. “As tight as I remembered.”

“She’s a good little girl isn’t she?” Jaehyun’s head emerged from your breasts, your eyes immediately focusing on his spit covered lips, wishing the glistening substance was the one between your legs. One of his hands let go of your breast and travelled further down to your clit, joining Johnny in the pursuit for your orgasm.

“Fuck that feels so good,” you whined.

“Look at you sucking my fingers right in,” Johnny said after he added another one of his long digits inside of you.

Soon enough both of them picked up their paces - Jaehyun rubbing at your nub and Johnny finger fucking you. You were so starved of their touches that it didn’t take you long to reach your orgasm. In no time you were squirming and contorting, fresh new batches of your slick spilling right to their fingers.

“That’s it, baby, let it go for us,” Johnny cooed into your hair as you finished screaming incoherent sentences.

“I missed watching you cum,” Jaehyun confessed into your lips, lightly pecking you as you recovered your breath.

“And I miss watching you cum,” you sheepishly said as you pulled him closer by the hem of his pants. You then turned around and used your hand to do the same to Johnny, placing them side by side. You worked on unbuttoning Jaehyun’s pants as you tip-toed to deliver a sloppy kiss to Johnny’s lips. Once Jae’s cock was free you slowly dropped to your knees, your eyes never leaving Johnny’s, and pulled his sweats and underwear down, his cock hitting you right in the face.

“Look at these two big beautiful cocks, all for me.” You licked the tip of Johnny’s cock as you pumped Jaehyun’s, a string of grunts leaving their lips. You placed the taller man’s cock in your mouth and sucked, your eyes locked on the way he was observing you, his teeth biting his bottom lip so tight that you thought it might draw blood.

“That’s it, use that pretty little tongue of yours,” he said as you swirled your pink muscle around him, head bobbing up and down.

After a while, you switched cocks, giving more of your attention to the paediatrician. You gave him the exact same treatment you gave to Johnny: tongue swirling and head-bopping until he was using his hands to bury your head further down. 

Then, completely driven by lust, you took both cocks and pulled them in together, both leaky tips touching each other. You looked them both in the eye and placed both of their members in your mouth, stuffing it full.

“Fuck, you’re so fucking dirty baby,” Johnny said as he observed the way your tongue swirled around both him and his friend’s cock, clearly enjoying it.

“That feels so good,” Jaehyun moaned, leaning his head back as you played with their ball sack.

“Alright, enough of that,” Johnny pulled your head back by your hair, a string of saliva connecting both their cocks to your mouth. “I need to fuck your little cunt before I fucking explode.”

“I’ll go get the condoms.” Jaehyun turned to leave before you grabbed his leg, looking up at him with puppy-like eyes, “no. Do me raw.”

You didn’t need to say anything further, in a matter of seconds Johnny was picking you up off of the ground and carrying you bridal style to Jaehyun’s bedroom. Upon your arrival, he threw you on the bed and placed himself on top of you. He then removed your ruined underwear, along with the jeans and opened up your legs. When he had you just like he wanted, he grabbed his member and ran it up and down your folds a couple of times, collecting your slick before entering you.

You gasped. You had had the help of your loyal vibrator for the past month on the most lonely nights but it just wasn’t the same - you needed the real thing.

Before you noticed, Jaehyun was kneeling right beside your head and placing his dick near your mouth, the feeling of his cock on your skin taking you by surprise. You turned your head and placed him in your mouth, his cock still wet from your previous blow job.

“That’s it, my beautiful girl,” he praised, giving you a loving smile as he moved a lock of your hair out of the way. 

“Suck my co-” Jaehyun’s words were cut short when Johnny started moving inside of you, eliciting a deep moan from out of you.

“Fuck you feel so good,” the man between your legs said as he supported himself by the palm of his hands, his torso right above yours.

You couldn’t say anything, you could just moan, but you didn’t mind. You loved being like this, stuffed full in both of your holes. You wanted them to use you and make a mess out of you, filling you with both their cum. You craved for it.

Just like he was listening in on your inner thoughts Johnny picked up his pace, his hips slapping against yours in such a brutal pace you were sure you’d be sore tomorrow. “Baby I’m getting closer,” he confessed, the loose strands of his brown hair dangling back and forth as he banged into you.

You didn’t answer him, your mouth too busy pleasuring Jaehyun. Instead, you snaked your hand between your bodies and started playing with your clit, giving you the boost you needed to catch up with him.

“Fuck, you’re so fucking hot Y/N,” Johnny mumbled as he watched you play with yourself as his dick railed into you.

“Shit,” Jaehyun mumbled, “by the way she’s moaning into my dick I think she’s almost there.”

“You should feel how tightly she’s squeezing me right now, I can barely hold on- fuck,” Johnny cursed as you came around him, your walls contracting tightly around him. Jaehyun removed his cock from your mouth, giving your vocal cords the liberty to scream Hail Mary.

“Fuck Johnny,” you yelled as you clawed at his buffed up arms.

“Shit, I’m gonna-”

Johnny’s dick twitched inside of you and released his milky cum, filling you up like you so desperately wanted. He then fell right on top of you, his heavy body squishing you tight.

“Get off of her Suh, you’re gonna kill her with your weight,” Jaehyun said as he pushed Johnny off of you, his limp dick falling right off from you. His cum quickly started to leak from inside of you, making you close your legs tightly in an attempt to keep it in.

“Shut up Jeong,” Johnny protested from beside you, making you smile. “Are you okay Y/N?”

“I’m perfect,” you smiled at him before you turned to Jaehyun to deliver him that same smile, “I’m ready for round two.”

“Are you sure beautiful?” He said from above you, his dimples giving you all the energy you needed.

“Yes,” you pulled him by his arm so his face would get closer to yours. “I want you,” you assured him before you gave him a soft kiss.

“I want you too,” he smiled, “so much.”

“Then come and get me,” you winked at him before he placed a small kiss on your forehead and moved to the end of the bed.

“Come here baby,” Johnny whispered from beside you, patting his chest and signalling you to get on top of him. You did as he wished, getting between his long legs and sticking out your ass to Jaehyun, your head laying right on Johnny’s pecks.

“What a fucking sight,” Jaehyun said as he caressed your ass. Then he noticed a trail of cum running down your thigh, collected it with his finger and stuck it right inside you, “you’re gonna save every little drop of our cum inside your pretty pussy aren’t you?”

“Yes.” 

Because your ear was pressed into Johnny’s chest you could hear his heartbeat and by the way it just accelerated, you knew the idea of having both his and his friend’s cum inside of you excited him. You smiled.

Jaehyun didn’t waste any time - the poor man having been teased this whole time - he collected the mix of your arousal with Johnny’s cum with his cock and entered you, his name spilling right from your mouth, “oh Jaehyun.”

“Fuck, you’re so tight.”

“Jaehyun, fuck me,” you basically purred, making Johnny laugh.

“So fucking needy, aren’t you?” He grabbed you by your chin and pulled your face closer to his so he could give you a sloppy kiss.

“Yes. Oh, Fuc-”

Taking your request into consideration Jaehyun sprung into action. He didn’t waste any time, he gripped your hips and gradually picked up his pace, much to your taste. Meanwhile, Johnny slid himself a bit down (so his mouth would be at the same level as your chest) and started sucking at your sensitive nipples, adding that extra level of pleasure.

“Fuck, Jaehyun, just like that,” you said as his rhythm turned into an animalistic one.

You knew it wouldn’t be long before for you to be spiralling down in your orgasm, the way both of them were taking care of your body being almost too good to handle.

“I missed your fucking pussy so much. God, it feels so good,” he confessed before he spanked your ass, the sound of skin slapping on skin echoing in his room.

“Jaehyun…” you moaned into the air before Johnny reached for your clit, provoking your third orgasm of the night not long after, “shit, shit, shit.”

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” Jaehyun warned before he spilt inside you, your orgasm clearly triggering his.

“Fuck,” you cursed as Jaehyun removed himself from inside of you, only the mix of their cums left inside your clenching pussy.

“You did so well baby,” Johnny confessed to your chest, leaving small kisses here and there as you tried to regain your breath. He pulled you in closer and rolled you around so you were on your back. He then left a trail of small kisses from your chest right until your pubic bone, taking his time to observe the mess between your legs. 

“Come here Jae,” he instructed his best friend who was panting on the bed.

“Look at that pretty pussy filled with our cum,” Jaehyun said between breaths as he ran a finger between your folds.

“Can you show us all that’s inside baby?” Johnny asked, his finger tracing calming patterns on your thigh.

“Yeah.” You opened up your legs wider and let go of all their cum, the milky substance running down your folds and falling straight on Jaehyun’s bedspread.

“Fuck,” Jaehyun said.

“You’re such a good girl for us,” Johnny added, making you smile.

“I’m so glad we can just be together, I was so terrified that I had to break the heart of one of you…” You confessed, both of them immediately joining you in bed to shower you with hugs and kisses.

“Hey, hey, everything’s alright now. You’ve got us - the both of us - no matter what, okay?” Johnny said, softly kissing you on the lips.

“Yes beautiful, nothing else matters right now.”

“Good,” you said before you tried to gain the courage to tell them something more, something you’ve been wanting to say now for a long time. “Johnny? Jaehyun?”

“Yes?” They both said, their loving eyes fixated on you.

“I love you, the both of you,” you confessed while interchanging looks with them both, your heart beating like crazy.

“We love you too,” they said.

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

This is it guys. Tbh I think this is the canon one for me, don’t mind my JohnJae biased ass 😂. Thank you for supporting me all the way through this series, hope you stick around for my future contente! Until next time,

Love,

Ana 💜

Tag list: @ncitybub @noisek @nuoyii @sleep-is-all-i-seek @dirtyzens @sktbzc0re @erisxczenie @lauraneuuh @jjhmk @heheimsoft @notbeforelong @cryingforjae @94ser0da @hmneighbors @yixing-jaehyun @koalabi-tch @raven-rin @johnnyyjsuh @johnnys-sunflower @atletino @cacaubs @born5sos

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