#(Apparently was so wide that several people were surprised-)

[we-speak-with-the-pokemons]

You are the best thing that has happened to this world. I will not specify as to who I am referring to.

Hm…

What? What’s up?

Y’know… I think I know who they’re referring too.

I think I do as well Rosa.

What the hell is happening here-

They’ve got to be talking about Saffron.

Wh-

Must be.

[motomamita]

fugitive!könig × naive!farmer!reader

warnings: smut, +18, no condom, innocence kink, breeding kink, baby trapping, virginity loss, female reader, dub-con!!

fugitive!könig who managed to escape the law, after committing several crimes, and now travels throughout the country hiding his identity.

On one of his many trips he ends up arriving at a small town, almost lost in time, where its few inhabitants live off their animal farms and orchards. Apparently no one had televisions, and the few radios only broadcast music that was overshadowed by static. This ensured that no one there would be able to recognize him and gave him the opportunity to stay and rest for a few hours.

Tired of walking and extremely hungry, König sat down in a small cafe to have a drink. The people around him looked at him strangely, not only because they didn't know him but also because of his intimidating appearance. His back was broad, he had long legs, and the muscles in his arms were noticeable even though he was wearing a wind jacket that covered him. However, no one seemed to be bothered by his presence, the people there loved tourists and König seemed completely like one.

When it was time to pay, he noticed that he had ordered and consumed more than he could afford. He was about to offer some of his "camping" knives in exchange for the money he was missing until a figure approached him.

"Don't worry if you don't have the money to pay." you spoke with a sweet voice and doing everything possible so that Konig would not feel embarrassed. "I sell the fruits to the owner of the place so I'm sure I can reach an agreement with him."

König was fascinated by you. Not only because of your timely friendliness but also your very natural and almost unique appearance that was very difficult to find in other places. You were wearing a jean gardener, some comfortable shoes and you were carrying a basket that minutes ago was full of fruits and vegetables from your garden. König looked down, somewhat shy and not knowing how to react to you, the truth is that during his escape he had not met many friendly people.

"Don't worry, I'm not going to ask you for anything in return." You smiled when you saw that no words came out of his mouth. "Here we greatly appreciate tourists and travelers, after all they are the ones who keep this small town from turning into a ghost town."

You invited König to take refuge in your small house for as long as he needed before leaving again for another place. König accepted, surprised at your remarkable naivety in letting a complete stranger into your house and providing him with all the care.

When he arrived, you showed him where the shower was and what his room would be where he could rest. You left a clean change of clothes on his bed and selflessly went off to make dinner. Once he cleaned, König followed the delicious smell and came to the kitchen where you were on your back stirring a large pot of what seemed to be a stew. You were so focused that you didn't notice the presence of the big man behind you. he thought about how easy it would be to cut your neck with one of those long knives you had there. But the idea quickly disappeared when you turned around and a wide smile formed on your face when you saw him.

That stew was the best he had tasted in a long time, so much so that he served himself 3 plates, leaving you totally pleased. The next morning, König didn't really know exactly what to do. He could stay one more night and wake up in the middle of the night to raid your entire home, even leave after having a trip with you. He was hesitant, and that hesitation turned into doubt when you offered to cut his hair and trim his long beard, which he accepted.

That same afternoon König sat down to drink a lemonade made by you while he watched you harvest super large, red strawberries from a distance. He fixed his gaze on the way your pants hugged your butt in a tempting way and how you hummed a melody quietly that he couldn't make out. A tingling appeared in König's tummy and he suddenly noticed an erection growing inside his pants. You looked so pretty, so innocent. It was obvious from afar that you didn't kill a fly and that your care for him was sincere.

The days passed and König seemed to have no intention of leaving, that didn't bother you at all. Now he helped you with the heavy work on the farm, carrying large amounts of hay on his shoulder and feeding the animals. His favorite activity was watching you milk the cows, fantasizing about your hands and the way the milk dripped from them.

His approaches to you intensified, taking advantage of the slightest opportunity to touch you or rub against you. he soon discovered that you had no idea about any sexual activity, acting confused at his double meaning words and insinuations. You were the perfect muse to fulfill all his fantasies without anyone being able to stop him.

Your parents had died a long time ago, leaving you alone in charge of the big farm and all the obligations of the adult world. That led König to think that life on that farm couldn't be bad. He knew how to handle hard work well and you did everything you could to teach him and please him. The idea of ​​starting from scratch, with you there, totally convinced him.

You were a healthy, hard-working woman and you needed someone like konig with you. But König needed to have something that would force you to keep him there with you, forever and that would confirm the mutual love that you both had to give each other. That's when he found the solution: he had to get you pregnant.

That afternoon he made a point that you wouldn't leave the stable until you were full of his cum. He started by complimenting your dress and how pretty that color looked on you. Then the caresses that increased in intensity until he managed to let you be carried away by him and his carnal desire. Now he had you under him, with your skirt up and your underwear hanging from one of your feet. Out of desperation, König only lowered his pants to his heels, even with his work boots on. You were on a large pile of hay, sweating from the great summer heat and moaning loudly.

His thrusts were brutal, making their way inside you that you barely had time to understand everything that was happening. The pleasure was so much that you could barely think about anything other than König's gaze and the way his balls slapped your ass.

"Oh, baby. You're so so tight.. And wet, shit" König groaned, sighing loudly at the pleasure your pussy was giving him. "Tell me, how did a cute little thing like you stay a virgin for so long, huh?" You opened your mouth to answer but only moans came out. "Uh? Talk to me, sweetheart, talk to me.."

"I.. I don't know.." you managed to say, overstimulated by everything. König's rough shirt rubbed against your clit, giving both pleasure and pain. König was so big that he covered you with his entire body, leaving you with almost no place to breathe air other than his breath.

"Uh? Don't you know? These farm boys are idiots... They wouldn't know how to please a pretty thing like you..." König cut off his sentence to get even closer to you and kiss you, putting his tongue inside your mouth. You tried to keep up with him but that triggered the kiss to be even wetter and hotter for him.

"König.. Give me more, please!" He smiled as he heard the urgency in your broken voice. You looked so pretty like that, almost not understanding what was happening but still pleased and eager for him to give you even more.

He, ready to please you, grabbed your legs and raised them to your shoulder, adopting a new position. His thrusts continued, his fat cock forcing its way into your no longer so virgin pussy and the simple sound of your skin slapping together made your warm walls embrace him. Not really knowing what to do, you brought your hands to König's big, muscular shoulders, feeling a few scars on them.

"Oh, my pretty little thing.. I'm going to fill you inside and you're going to be the prettiest mom in this whole damn town.." You dug your nails into his shoulder and your gaze was filled with confusion. "You like it, huh? You're going to make me so happy, isn't that what you want?"

You hesitated for a few seconds, not sure what he meant but his cock rammed even deeper into you leaving you almost without any thought. Tears formed in your eyes from the pleasure and absolute adoration with which he looked at you.

"Come on, mommy.. Make me happy, carry my precious baby.."

In the same way that König had managed to get his way in prison, he had gotten his way with you. Now you both lived together as a couple on the farm, happy and with a baby on the way inside your fertile womb.

[rambling-at-midnight]

Pros and Cons of Midnight Snacks

Pairing: Jason Todd x Civilian!Reader. No pronouns so can be read as any gender!

Summary: Meet-ugly with the Red Hood due to a gas station robbery gone wrong.

Word count: ~2k

(I'm branching out to other fandoms, apparently. Let me know if you want a sequel. Enjoy!)

You weren't born in Gotham, so it sometimes still surprises you that you had adjusted so well to its particular brand of crazy.

You're from somewhere a little more south of New Jersey, although most places in the U.S. are a little south of Jersey unless you're a lobster farmer from Maine or a tree hugger from Vermont.

Both of those descriptions sound critical, but they weren't meant to be. Right about now you're seriously considering taking up lobster farming.

No one sane ever moves to Gotham. Everyone knows the stories, and even if most of the country didn't believe all of them, most people aren't stupid enough to disregard them. And you certainly weren't stupid. But rent was dirt cheap for a city, and so was tuition for GU's vet school. So you thought to yourself, "How bad could it really be," bought pepper spray and a taser, and accepted the admissions offer.

You'd always liked iced coffee more than green bean casserole and peach cobbler, anyway.

Reading news articles hadn't been enough to prepare you for the utter insanity of Gotham City, unfortunately. But you adapted. You always did. Upgraded your taser, memorized the bus schedule, learned the less sketchy areas of town, did your best not to get caught outside after dark. Kept your head down, ignored the crime lords and genetic experiments gone wrong and lunatics and vigilantes scurrying along the rooftops, and you'd survived for almost two years without many incidents.

But you'd gone to the library because you were critically unable to work in your apartment, gotten distracted by panicking about how little you really knew about next week's test content, and stared at the pages of your textbook for almost an hour as you fought back tears. So now you were running late and it was dark as you walked home because the buses were down. Of course they were. That lunatic that thought he was a crocodile had smashed a bunch last week and they hadn't been replaced yet.

Goosebumps prickle on the back of your neck, but you tell yourself it's nothing. Keep your head down. Criminals target the people that look most obviously paranoid first.

You're just burnt out. Severely. But the end of your sophomore year of veterinary school was looming, which meant you would have a relaxing three-month vacation before the next one started.

And no, you weren't thinking about next year's summer 'vacation' of clinicals. Because if this year was bad after a year of summer vacation, what will it do to you to have no break at all?

That's a future you problem, thankfully.

You're still feeling sorry for yourself when you reach the gas station right next to your apartment building. You walk right by it, remember what's in your fridge or pantry—thanks, grocery store self, thinking you don't need any snacking foods—then backtrack.

Since starting vet school, you've tried to be healthier with your eating habits. Brains lacking in nutrients absorb information less efficiently, after all. But you're still a sucker for Cheez-Its and energy drinks.

You won't drink it tonight, obviously.

Right as you put the items on the counter for the bored-looking cashier to scan the barcodes, something cold presses to your temple.

The cashier freezes, eyes blown wide with panic.

"Easy there," someone says to your left. A man, voice oily in a way that sets your teeth on edge immediately. "Do what I say, or I blow their brains out, then yours."

A gun.

A gun is pressed to your head.

Because of course it is. A shitty way to end a shitty day. You should have kept walking right past the gas station.

Before you moved to Gotham, you might have screamed and panicked, but you know better now. You know to stay calm.

You clench your fists to stop them from shaking so noticeably, but otherwise don't move. You've seen hostage situations before, because this is Gotham, but you've never been the hostage.

The gun feels heavy. And so cold, like it's sapping all the heat from your skin.

"Okay, dude," the cashier said soothingly. "You want the money in the register?"

The robber scoffs. "Obviously."

"All right." The cashier's voice is even and soft, unthreatening. You wonder if training for situations like these are required for cashiers in Gotham. It certainly hadn't been for your old job, although that hadn't been in New Jersey, and it hadn't been at a twenty-four seven gas station, either. "I need to get a key to unlock it, okay? So I'm reaching below the counter."

"Just get the key," the robber demands. The gun shifts against your temple. You fantasize for a half-second about acting like an action hero, disarming him and taking him down all on your own. But you're not a vigilante and you've never been in a real-life fight before. You don't think you're fast enough to get out of the barrel's way before he pulls the trigger. If you managed to shove it away, what if he fired and hit the cashier instead?

Then comes the sound of another gun clicking.

Great, you think half-hysterically. Just what we need. Even more deadly weapons.

"Lower the gun," growls a modulated voice, and everyone freezes.

The Red Hood is standing behind the robber, also pointing a gun to his head like the meme of people lined up in a church with guns aimed at the person in front of them.

The robber lets his gun dip a little bit. Distracted enough that it's not pressed directly to your temple anymore.

Not to brag, but you recover the quickest. It's probably the adrenaline.

Thank God you keep your keychain in hand while out at night. Your fingers shake, but you have your pepper spray up in a second, and the robber's turning to look at your sudden movement when you squeeze down on the nozzle.

The spray hits him directly in the eyes, and his howl of pain is immediate. But you don't stop spraying, even when the cashier starts to splutter and your own eyes water.

The gun goes off, once in the robber's hands, and a second time when it hits the ground because he's dropped it in favor of clutching his burning face.

You stop the stream of pepper spray, because now the air is spicy when you breathe, but can't force yourself to lower your hand. The Red Hood quickly handcuffs the would-be robber, which is only difficult because he's clawing at his eyes in pain, and executes a tricky-looking martial arts move to get him on the ground.

Despite everything, you're impressed.

The Red Hood is bigger than maybe anyone you've ever seen before. He could have punched the robber in half like paper, probably, but you appreciate the finesse a little bit more.

"Hey." A gentle voice, and gentle hands, take the pepper spray out of your grip. "Quick thinking there," you're complimented. By the fucking Red Hood, one of Gotham's most infamous crime lords. The first time you read about him in the papers, he was chopping off people's heads, and every story since has been similarly alarming. But he's not supposed to be here; the Red Hood stays in Park Row, which locals call Crime Alley, apparently, and you've always steered very clear from that part of town.

"Can you look at me?"

You do. Maybe he won't chop off your head if you listen well enough.

"Are you okay?"

You blink. That... does not compute.

The Red Hood doesn't save people. And he doesn't leave Crime Alley. So what's he doing outside of Crime Alley, saving people?

The robber is still screaming, eyes screwed up in pain. He's handcuffed on the ground.

"You should probably let him wash out his eyes, at least," you tell the cashier. "Pepper spray is pretty painful." You'd sprayed yourself once out of curiosity, realized how much it burned, then sprinted to the shower to rinse it off. Which, pro tip: not a good move, especially with warm water. Water reactivates it by opening your pores, or something, and when you're in the shower it just spreads all over your body.

Your eyes are watering. The Red Hood sees that, because he tells you, "Let's get some air," and tugs you out of the gas station.

He's right. The cool night air does feel good. You blink away the stinging in your eyes and he repeats, "Are you okay?" His voice is robotic from the mask, but kind of pleasant at the same time. You'd never guess just from listening to him that he's a killer.

"Yes," you say automatically. "Thanks," you add. You're lightheaded for some reason; you sway on your feet.

"You sure?" he asks critically. "You look... pale." Judging by the pause, 'pale' wasn't the word he really wanted to say. The red helmet tilts. "You weren't shot, were you?"

"I don't think so," you shrug. Then you look down at yourself and realize that there's a large bloodstain on your hip. "Never mind. I think I was."

"Jesus!" he yelps at the sight. It's kind of funny, actually, this grown man built like a brick shithouse yelping at the sight of blood. "Why didn't you say anything?"

You shrug and peel your sticky shirt away from the wound to inspect it. "I thought I just bumped something." Sure enough, it's just a graze. You weren't sure which shot had hit you, but you'd honestly been injured worse. Plus, supervising surgeries at the animal clinic you'd worked at for years has desensitized you to the sight of blood. Maybe it's also altered your perception on what 'serious injuries' count as; the amount of times you've been bitten by startled dogs...

"You need to go to the hospital."

"It's just a scratch," you argue. "I can't go to the hospital. I need to feed my cat."

"Your cat can wait. You're bleeding a lot."

"I'm already late, and if I miss dinner, he'll start pissing all over my apartment."

The Red Hood sighs. "Where do you live?"

Your mouth opens to answer on instinct. You snap it shut just in time and glare. "Why?"

"So I can feed your cat for you while you go to the hospital."

It's nice of him to offer, but... "No."

"No?"

Maybe it's not the best idea to refuse Gotham's most prominent crime lord, but it would also be pretty stupid to tell a strange man where you live. Especially when he happens to be said crime lord.

"Look," you sigh. "I'm a vet student. I have surgical tools at home to treat myself with, and I promise, under the blood, the bullet barely hit me. I've been hurt worse by Chihuahuas that hate the vet."

"There's no way I can convince you to change your mind?"

"It's been a long day," you sigh. "I really, really just want to go home." And he's blocking the path. Your apartment building is directly behind him, just calling your name.

"At least let me walk you to your building." He holds his hands up at your suspicious look and assures you, "I won't ask for the apartment number."

"I'm literally right there." You point.

He turns, sees how close you are to being home, and says, "Seriously?"

"Seriously. What are you doing here, anyway? I thought you were some kind of villain."

"I'm reformed," he grumbles.

"Well, good for you."

You make sure you have your keys and your wallet, then step around him and make it all the way to your building's door before he calls, "Wait!" The Red Hood's jogging to catch up to you, holding the box of Cheez-Its and energy drink you'd almost died for. "You forgot these," he says.

"Thanks," you say, taking them. It would have been a shame to waste four dollars.

"You're welcome," he says. There's something odd about his voice, but you attribute it to the mask, scan to be let into the building, and make sure it's fully closed before heading to the elevator.

Your cat is unhappy about dinner being an hour late. He weaves between your feet, making his protests loudly and viscerally known. You wince. He's worse than the dogs that bark in this building sometimes.

Your poor neighbors.

You give him his wet food, then hop in the shower to clean off your hip. It bled a lot, but once the blood washes away, it's actually not as bad as you thought. You've stitched up animals before, but never yourself, and decide against trying tonight. If it heals a little unevenly, who cares? No one will see it, anyway.

You pad the wound with gauze, tape it over, and fall into bed. Staring at the ceiling, you're forced to admit to yourself that you may be looking up more in the future. Just to see if anyone in a red helmet is running on a rooftop nearby.

It was a long day. But, strangely, almost dying wasn't the worst part of it.

Actually... it may have been the best part.

~~

Forever tag list:

@lemirabitur @annymcervantes @queenmissfit @quiet-because-it-is-a-secret @iksey @thehyperactiveteen @luxmoonlight @andreasworlsboring101

[just-jordie-things]

you know you got me in your pocket - okkotsu yuuta

word count: 13k warnings: light swearing.  reader has a cursed technique that has to do with healing but i don’t explain it bc i’m lazy. summary: the path from friends to lovers may take time but it is a simple, true love they share more info: ultimate friends to lovers fic this IS the template a/n: loosely based on this fanart i found on pinterest and also the song always forever by cults bcuz i love that song its so friends to lovers coded ___

[ you and me, always, forever ]

Unlike most cases of friends who harbor crushes for each other but never seemed to figure it out, (y/n) had taken a liking to Yuuta the day they met.  She’d known right away that there was something about him that drew her to him like a magnet, something adorably mysterious, strangely alluring, and completely thrilling.

Seeing him on campus wasn’t a surprise.  Gojo had told her about his recruitment, and upon giving her further detail she’d lovingly told him it was more of a kidnapping.  He’d laughed.  And since then nothing had really changed.  She continued her studies with Shoko in the infirmary, only occasionally seeing the Six Eyes when he needed a new audience to bother, and in fact, she’d almost forgotten the news of a new student her age.

It’s not like there were many instances where she could be reminded.  She didn’t see the other students at Jujutsu Tech often, since they spent their time training to be sorcerers, while her cursed technique was more equipped for the behind the scenes of jujutsu society.  

So when she feels a heavy presence of cursed energy looming through the front gates, the hair on the back of her neck stands up, and she’s unusually drawn out of her studies to scan the area for the source of the prickle traveling down her spine.

If she didn’t know better, she might have just assumed it was just Gojo.  But it only takes a split second for her to identify this as someone else entirely.  She’s not sure if her shiver is due to fear or intrigue, but either way she just has to learn more, doesn’t she? 

And so you could imagine her surprise when she finally catches the sight of the sorcerer carrying all of this cursed energy, dragging along the main path on his way to the main building.  She can’t recall his name right away, but she assumes he’s the new kid that Gojo had told her about a week or so prior.

She’s far enough away that she doesn’t get a good look at him, but she can see enough from where she sits amongst the trees.  He’s not at all what she had been expecting.

He didn’t look like the piece of shit egotistical douchebag that she had assumed he’d be when Gojo had told her about him.

And if she couldn’t feel the cursed energy radiating off of him even from this far away, she might’ve thought he was a non-sorcerer altogether.

His shoulders sagged like gravity was heavier on him than most people.  He moved slowly.  His sneakers scraped along the pavement.  His hands were fiddling with each other anxiously, fingers catching and pulling and twisting over and over.

Perhaps she was letting her curiosity make her naive, but any fear she might have felt when he first entered the courtyard dissipated as she tracked his awkward movements towards the school.  Awkward.  It was the perfect way to describe her first impression of him.

He hadn’t seemed to notice her during her assessment of him.  And this was proven when their paths did properly cross.

It had happened late one evening, shortly after Yuuta’s initial admittance to Jujutsu Tech.  It only took one text from Shoko for her to be out of bed, in her uniform, and on her way to the infirmary.  Apparently, Yuuta was also racing around campus, for whatever reason, and that’s how he (almost literally) ran into her.

“Oh!” 

His greeting was just as awkward as her first impression of him.  She can’t help but laugh a little bit.  He’s clearly flustered, his eyes wide and his mouth not making any proper words, and the large knife in his hand looks severely out of place.

But he must see her look straight at it while he’s trying to figure out how to politely ask who the hell she was because he’s never seen her before- because suddenly he remembers how to speak.

“This isn’t mine!” 

He doesn’t mean to shriek, but he feels like he should explain why he’s running around at night with a knife.  It doesn’t dawn on him at all that she’s used to people casually carrying weapons around, and this little knife isn’t even close to being a concern for her.

Nonetheless, she goes along with it.  She should be rushing to the infirmary, but something keeps her put before him.

“Oh?” She tries not to laugh as she takes in his heavy wince.  “While I find your courage outstanding, I’m not sure this is the place you want to go stealing people’s knives,” She’s only teasing, but it does nothing to relieve the panic on his face.  “You know, cause people around here don’t need knives to kill you,” 

Yuuta swallows, and (y/n) finally gives him a break and shakes her head as she laughs to herself.

He expresses his anxiousness in small shuffles of his feet, and he tries to laugh along but the sound is strained and nervous.  If she knew him better and understood him, she likes to think she’d tell him to lighten up, but that feels like a bold step, so she tries to ease his anxiety with more subtlety.

“You didn’t spook me with that knife,” She clarifies.  “I’d be more scared of all that cursed energy you’ve got, if anything” 

“O-oh” 

“But I’m not,” She tells him, matter-of-factly.

He gives her a look like he’s not sure if he should believe her.  With the way the other students had reacted when they first met, he’s surprised she doesn’t have him in a chokehold right now.  Instead, she stands before him without a defensive stance, and she gives him a small smile.

“But… what are you doing out this late?” She can’t help but have curiosity about what he was doing there in the first place.  “Aren’t you all going out on an assignment first thing in the morning?”

Normally, she didn’t listen much when Gojo rambled on about his teachings.  However yesterday’s lessons with Shoko had been few and far between, so when her old friend stopped by for entertainment, she boredly listened along while he bragged about taking his class on a group outing.  She supposed that little piece of information became useful for small talk now.

“Yeah, well,” Yuuta sighed, rubbing the back of his neck anxiously.  “I was supposed to return this earlier, but I forgot, and now I…” 

His words trail off, along with his eyes as he turns to stare at the floor out of embarrassment.

“I got lost” 

“It’s Maki’s, isn’t it?” She asks knowingly, even though she’s not familiar with this knife.

Yuuta nods.

“I’ll show you the way” She says, gesturing for him to follow her, and walking off before he could really comprehend what she was offering.  His sneakers squeak on the linoleum floor as he rushes after her a few seconds delayed.

He takes a minute or two before he finds the courage to say something.

“Thank you,” He settles, peeking over at her from the corner of his eye.  “I’m Yuuta, by the way” 

She turns to give him a beam as she replies, “I know,”

It has a lump forming in his throat, his chest filling with something warm and akin to bashfulness.  He’d never seen her before, and he was certain he would have remembered if they’d met, especially since she was so pretty, but she appeared to be his age too, and he wondered why she hadn’t been around for any classes, or training sessions.

“I’m (y/n)” She introduces herself after a beat passes.  Yuuta wants to say something more, but he doesn’t know what to say, so he doesn’t say anything at all.

He fidgets with the knife as he follows her through the corridors.  It’s a large building, and the longer they walk, the more he’s grateful he hadn’t gotten more lost than he had.  It takes a few minutes until she finally stops at a door, and slides it open.  Yuuta recognized it as soon as it’s contents were revealed.

Every inch of the walls were filled with weapons.  Racks with blades and staffs of all shapes and sizes, shelves of an assortment of more alternative weapons, he’d been in here when Gojo had given him a speedy tour on his first day.  Although now that he’s not being rushed from room to room, his gaze travels around the small space, taking in every deadly tool here.

“You’ll get used to it” (y/n) speaks, and he’s drawn out of his reverie when she plucks the knife from his hands to put it back in it’s proper place.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to any of this” He mumbles back, eyes caught on a rather daunting gun propped up among other things.

Nunchucks and knives were one thing.  He was pretty sure that was an AK-47.  He’d only ever seen those in movies.

(y/n) chuckles softly, amused by how out of place he seemed.  For a guy with more cursed energy than he knew what to do with, she found it interesting how juvenile he came across.

Not that it was a bad thing.  It was sort of… refreshing, if she thought about it.

“You will,” She assured him kindly.  “It’ll feel weird for a while, but, yaknow.  Eventually everyone settles in, right?” 

He tears his eyes away from the machine gun to see that she’s giving him a small smile, and he doesn’t know her very well, or at all, but he can tell that she’s being genuine.

“I guess”

He doesn’t know what else to say.

“Well, I have to get going to a lesson,” She explains, jerking her thumb back towards the door.  “You good to get back to your dorm? I probably wouldn’t get in trouble if I explained I was just helping the new kid” 

Yuuta nods, the movement awkward, and shaky.

“Yeah, I’m good, I think” He doesn’t sound so sure, but (y/n) assumes the best way for him to learn his way around is to get lost just a little.

“Alright, I’ll see ya around then,” She gives him a wave as she ducks out of the small armory.  “Good luck with your assignment tomorrow!”

Her voice carries as she jogs through the corridors to quickly get to where Shoko was waiting, leaving Yuuta to linger, a bit dumbfounded and bewildered by the whole interaction.

He supposed he’d gotten her name, but he still had no clue who she was.  He’d have to make a better effort to reach out next time their paths crossed.  She was the first person here to give him a semi-warm welcome, after all.

When (y/n) arrived at the infirmary with a brighter-than-usual smile and the remnants of a blush on her cheeks, Shoko eyed her curiously, but didn’t outwardly call her out on the strange demeanor.

[ say you’ll stay, never be severed ]

The next time Yuuta does see (y/n), he’s sitting alone at a picnic table in the courtyard with only the company of his lunch bag.  He sees her walking out of the building with a bag on her shoulder.  She’s clearly on a mission, but he finds himself calling out to her and waving his hand anyways.

He assumes she’ll give him a polite nod and keep heading on her way, but she stops in her tracks to turn his way, waving back, before she’s actually walking over to him.

It’s embarrassing to admit, but Yuuta panics a bit.  He had yet to form any solid enough friendships with the other students in his year, hence the lunching alone out here, and he had a worry that soon she would also see him as a loner and an outsider, and she’d avoid him too.

But as she approaches the wooden table, she gives him a smile so friendly he could never believe it was forced.

“Hey,” Even her voice sounds kind.  “You eating alone?” 

“Uh-” Yuuta glances around as if looking for an excuse, but the bento box in front of him and lack of any other person around is evidence enough.  “Yeah” He replies sheepishly.

Here it comes, Yuuta braces himself, the beginning of her thinking he’s a loner.  He shouldn’t have even held onto that scrap of hope when she’d walked this way, but here he was, holding his breath.

“Want company?”

His head turns back to her, assessing if she really meant it, and seeing that small smile still curled on her lips, he gives her a short nod.

“Yeah,” He answers.  “Yeah, that’d be… nice” 

Her small smile turns into a grin as she sits on the bench across from him, setting her bag on the table.

“How are you settling in?” She asks him kindly, and he gives a weak shrug of his shoulders.

“I guess… as well as I can,” He says honestly, and she nods back in understanding.  He pushes past the urge to sit in silence where he knows he can’t say the wrong thing, and continue talking to her.  She’s nice, he tells himself.  She’s nice, and I want to make friends here.  I want to be happy here.  “I think everyone’s a little afraid of me, to be honest,” He admits.  “Or they’re annoyed with how behind all of them that I am” 

“Maki can be a little stand-offish,” (y/n) thinks aloud.  “And Inumaki is hard to get to know at first.  But he’s a really nice guy once you do get to know him.  Just don’t be nervous when he’s silent.  He’s a goofball,” 

Yuuta takes her advice to heart, hoping that she could give him all the keys to friendship he’d been lacking.  He nods earnestly.

“And so is Panda,” She continued.  “But it’s been awhile since there’s been someone new around here.  That doesn’t really happen for us” 

“Really?” He asks, and she nods.

“Yeah.  Most of these people have known each other since they were young.  Or at least are aware of each other’s clan politics” 

“I see” Yuuta mumbles, feeling yet again like an outsider.  (y/n) can tell this information doesn’t sit well with him.

“I think it’s nice,” She says boldly, and truthfully.  He stares at her like she just said something ridiculous.  “When the only people you get to see every day are people you’ve known your whole life, it can be sorta lonely,” She admits with a small chuckle.  “It’ll be nice to get to know someone new,” 

She leans over the table a bit, setting her elbows down so she can rest her head in her hands.

“If that’s not too forward” She says with a bashful smile.

Yuuta blinks once, twice, before shaking his head with certainty.

“It’s not” He says, fast.

“Good,” (y/n’s) beam brightens.  “Want to have lunch with me again tomorrow?” 

He nods again, his nerves starting to melt away, letting him smile back at her.

“Will you be in class tomorrow?” He asks hopefully.  Maybe now he’ll finally have someone he can sit with, even if he’s still too shy to strike up a conversation, at least he won’t feel so alone all the time.

“Oh,” (y/n’s) lips quickly fall to a frown.  “I’m actually not one of Gojo’s students,” She tells him, and it makes her sad to see him deflate so fast.  “I’m training in the infirmary, with Shoko.  Have you met her?” 

Yuuta shakes his head.

“I don’t think so” 

“Well I’ll introduce you sometime,” She tells him.  “But I don’t have a decent enough cursed technique to be a sorcerer, so I’m studying under her in order to go more into the… background things” She explains.

“I see,” Yuuta tries not to let his disappointment show, so as not to make her feel bad.  He focuses instead on getting to know her better.  “So you’re working in, like, the medical field then?”

(y/n) nods her head from side to side.

“Something like that,” She chuckles.  “It’s mostly watching Shoko use her technique to heal injuries after rougher assignments.  I don’t get to use mine too much, but I’m starting to learn how to heal myself, so that’s a start, I suppose” 

“That’s cool!” 

(y/n’s) eyes blink wide in surprise.

“You can heal yourself?”

“I mean, I healed a papercut once” She laughs bashfully.  In comparison to Shoko’s reverse cursed technique, doing a shoddy job at patching up a small slice on her finger seemed like a joke.  But Yuuta grins like he’s never heard anything more interesting.

“You’re lucky,” He tells her, and she raises a brow at him, wondering if this was all some elaborate prank where he’d wind up laughing in her face at how weak she was compared to everyone else, compared to him.  “That’s a really useful ability.  That’s not background at all.  It’s helpful” 

As she processes the kind words, (y/n) wonders if this is why she’d felt drawn to him when they met a few nights ago.  Underneath the shy exterior Yuuta displayed was nothing but kindness, and warmth.  She could feel it in her cheeks, and in her chest.  Her heart even stuttered a little.

“I mean, I barely have a handle on it,” She admits.  “I don’t think I’ve been all that helpful to anyone” 

“But you’re learning, right?” Yuuta shrugs a shoulder in understanding.  “I guess that’s sorta how I feel, too,” He realized, dropping his gaze to his forgotten lunch as he thought about it.  “I just want to be…”

He trails off, but (y/n) waits with eager anticipation for him to continue his thought.

“Useful”

His voice is quiet, and his expression is unsure as he looks back up at her.  Suddenly feeling like that was far too pathetic of a thing to say to someone that he’d like to become friends with.  But before he can backtrack and supply a better word, like strong or courageous, she’s grinning.

Her face nearly splits in two as her beam stretches from ear to ear, all teeth and twinkling eyes to match.  A small laugh escapes her before she starts to nod passionately.

“That’s exactly how it feels,” She agrees, filling him with relief so strong it’s visible in the way his shoulders relax.  (y/n) notices, but doesn’t say anything.  Something warm and fuzzy nestles in her chest, and she has a good feeling about this new friendship blossoming.

Truth was, (y/n) got along fine with the other students here, but they’d only cross paths on occasion and she couldn’t say that she was necessarily close to any of them, simply on good terms enough to catch up in brief passing with one another.  The disconnect between her studies and the rest of the sorcerers-in-training around here was a trench of a gap, and if she was honest with herself, it could prove to be a little lonely.

Shoko was a great teacher, she was kind and involved, but she was still a teacher.  Gojo was… about the same, with just a bit more peskiness to him when it came to involving himself.  But it was all in good nature, he knew that she was a bit isolated here.

But then Yuuta came along.  And even just this short interaction had her glowing with excitement at finally forming a connection with someone.  He probably thought she was just being pleasant since he was the new kid and he’d been eating lunch alone, but it couldn’t be further from the truth.  She had a genuine interest in him that had started innocently enough, but she had a feeling it would only blossom into something more.

“I think that we’re going to be-” 

She’s about to voice this thought, about to tell him that she knows in her heart that they’ll make excellent friends, but her timing was just a tad too slow, and she was interrupted by her phone ringing.

With the intention of silencing it and ignoring the call for now, she gives him an apologetic look before pulling it out of her pocket, only to huff when she realizes it’s not a call she can just silence.

“Sorry,” She frowns.  “It’s Shoko, I should take this, she’s probably got something for me back at the lab” 

“It’s alright,” Yuuta smiles as he shakes his head in understanding.  “I get it” 

“Thanks,” (y/n) grabs her bag as she jumps up from the table, disappointed to cut their time short, but excited to see what Shoko would have in store for her today.  Before she can race off, she pauses, one hand gripping the strap of her bag and the other occupied with the phone that’s still ringing.  “Lunch tomorrow though, right?” She double checks.

The pink that dusts Yuuta’s cheeks is undeniable, and it makes a smile bloom on her face, too.

“Right” He says with a shy nod while he rubs his clammy hands over his knees.

“Alright,” (y/n) nods back, and she’d like to think she’s smooth, but she’s blushing just the same.  “I’ll see you tomorrow then, Okkotsu” 

She takes off before she can see his face turn from pink to red, his enthusiasm for having plans with a friend- a cute friend- shining in the heat of his cheeks.  

He spends the rest of his lunch period trying to think of things to talk to her about tomorrow, questions to ask, stories to share.  He racked his brain for fifteen minutes before going to class, where he then gets a little lost in space as he wonders about it some more.

[ you know you got me in your pocket, you don’t just have to wait around ]

When (y/n) feels that lingering fuzziness in her chest turn into something more, it was shortly after she’d spent the better half of an hour telling Shoko that her friendship with Okkotsu Yuuta was just that.  Friendship.

“If you say so,” The woman shrugged a shoulder as she pulled the gloves off of her hands, getting ready to wrap up the day.  “Just sayin’.  You talk about him a lot” 

(y/n) gave her a look, blindly tossing her own latex gloves into the trash.

“He’s my friend, I like talking about him,” She explains with nonchalance, even though her heart stuttered in her chest a little bit, as it did every time she mentioned him.  “And I’m also a boring person.  There’s not much to talk about”

“That’s not true, but whatever” Shoko brushes off the lame excuse, and (y/n) rejoices inwardly that the topic can be dropped before Yuuta actually shows up in a few minutes.  

Like most days, they had plans to meet up for lunch, except today they’ll be spending it with the rest of the first years.  After a couple of months, Yuuta finally felt like he belonged here, and had made decent friendships with his peers.  This morning he had texted her to ask if it was alright if they joined them.

[yuuta] : panda offered us seats at the lunch table with inumaki and maki too. do you want to have lunch with them? 

[yuuta] : ok if not!! just wanted to extend the invitation !!

It had made (y/n) smile when that second text popped up so quickly on her phone after she’d opened the first right away.  She could practically see him back pedaling just in case she wasn’t comfortable with a larger group for lunch.  Of course she was, she’d typed back an agreement with a little smiley face within a few seconds of reading the texts, but it was sweet that he’d stick to their usual plan of just the two of them.

Don’t get her wrong, (y/n) had grown to really cherish the time the two of them spent together.  She got to know Yuuta very well during their lunch breaks, and during a few hangouts after lessons and training, too.  She was happy to see how much he opened up once you got to know him, and she loved learning more about him every day.  He was kind, and funny in that nervous sort of way, and he picked up on things quickly.  

The couple of times (y/n) had spent her breaks from the infirmary on the bleachers to watch him train with the other first years, she’d seen a drastic change in his abilities with each session.  It wasn’t often that she was able to slip away long enough to get all the way to the bleachers, watch for a bit while having a snack or catching up on some reading, and then get back to the infirmary before Shoko called her out on trying to ditch her lessons.  Still, she was always impressed with how fast of a learner Yuuta was.  Whether it was with cursed energy or with a bamboo staff to practice wielding a proper katana, he seemed to be comfortable with learning how to fight.

In fact the last time she’d watched him, he looked so natural she could have assumed he’d grown up in jujutsu society just like the rest of them.

When he does make an appearance at the infirmary, Shoko notices him outside the door first.  With a smirk, she nods her head to get (y/n’s) attention.

“Your friend is here,” She says with a teasing lilt in her voice, despite her face remaining as stoic as usual.  

(y/n) gives her a look before turning around to see him waiting politely outside.  When their eyes catch, she gives him a smile and waves at him to come in.

“Picking you up for lunch, hm?” Shoko hums.  “What a little gentleman”

(y/n) shoots her another look, this time as if to say be nice when Yuuta walks in.  He’s still wearing his sheath, but the awkward smile and nervous fiddling of his hands makes a sword on his back look out of place.  For some reason, (y/n) has always found his simple juxtapositions adorable.

Despite having met Shoko before, a few times, actually, Yuuta always gets anxious around her.  It was probably her quietly peculiar aura, something (y/n) had grown used to after so much time spent with her, but in comparison to Yuuta’s teacher who’d never learned to revel in peaceful silence, it could be intimidating.

He gave her a small wave and nod in greeting.  Shoko smirked back at him before turning to (y/n).

“You two get back before too long, alright? No funny business” 

Yuuta visibly paled, his mouth opening to make an explanation that wasn’t coming to mind and left him standing there gaping.  (y/n) rolled her eyes as she grabbed her bag, hoisting the strap over her shoulder as she waved Shoko off.

“Bye Shoko” She said with a half-playful glare, before grabbing Yuuta by the sleeve and dragging him right back out the door before he even got the chance to say hello.

It’s not until they’re out in the hall that he finds his voice.

He tugs at his collar to relieve some of the heat from his neck.

“How were lessons today?” He settles for the safe topic of conversation.  Predictably, (y/n) lets out a small laugh.  She always seemed amused when he was uncomfortable.  He had yet to understand why.

“Good,” She’s kind to him today, not teasing him for his flustering.  At least not beyond that little smirk that makes her eyes glint when she looks at him.  “You?”

He nods his head from side to side.

“Maki kicked my ass,” He said sheepishly.  “But I did get a hit today” He said in a quieter voice, but there was still a hint of pride in his voice.  (y/n) beamed at him.  She understood this was a meaningful accomplishment.

“That’s awesome!” She cheered for him.  “You’ll knock her down next time for sure,” 

He thinks she could be messing with him, but when he looks over at her, her beam is nothing but genuine.  He laughs quietly, not as sure as she was, but appreciative of the sentiment nonetheless.

“Just make sure to invite me next time you spar,” (y/n) continues.  “I want to be there for the big day” 

Sometimes, she has a way of speaking that makes Yuuta wonder why she doesn’t really hang out with anyone but him.  She wasn’t exactly a soft person, he supposed it was this line of work they shared, but there was something inherently friendly about her.  He’d noticed it the first time they’d met, of course, and ever since he couldn’t ignore it if he tried.  For whatever reason, she seemed not only to care about him, but she actually believed in him, too.  More and more, Yuuta began to wonder why.

Inumaki, Panda, and Maki are already at a table with their lunches before them when Yuuta and (y/n) arrive.  Panda notices them first, grinning and waving a paw for them to join.

“(y/n)! Long time no see!” His voice holds pure joy upon her arrival, “How’s the infirmary?” 

“Oh, you know,” (y/n) smiles as she shrugs her shoulders.  “Blood.  Bones.  Repeat.  I can’t complain” 

Panda and Toge are sitting on one side of the table, Maki on the other, and (y/n) happily sits beside her.  Yuuta follows shortly.

“Yuuta told me next time, he’s going to knock your ass out,” She says boldly.  Maki raises a brow, her chopsticks stilling over her dish.  “You’ll let me come watch, yeah?” 

Maki’s eyes shift to Yuuta, a glare behind them that has him straightening in his seat.  Maki smirks at his discomfort, and when she turns back to (y/n), she grins ear to ear.

“I do love an audience,” She agrees, her smirk stretching into a grin at the idea.  She looks back to Yuuta, who’s focused intently on his rice.  “You two have been gettin’ real chummy, huh?”

(y/n) simpered at the comment.  Yuuta tucked his chin against his collar in hopes that they wouldn’t notice the way his face bloomed with heat.

“Tuna, tuna” Inuamki giggles as his elbow bumps into Panda’s arm, and he too begins to chuckle as they watch the pair’s reactions to Maki’s simple observation.

“(y/n’s)- uh- she’s-” 

“Yuuta’s a great friend” (y/n) speaks before Yuuta’s stammering can be laughed at any further.

“Must be, to make you finally come hang out with us” Panda says as he tries to quell his amused chuckling.

“Ikura” Toge mutters.

“Yeah,” Panda nods in agreement with the cursed speech user.  “We didn’t think you liked us anymore” 

Yuuta peeks over at (y/n) in his peripheral vision, but she plasters on a smile and shakes her head to disagree.

“Been busy” She says simply.  There is no follow up, no explanation or excuse.  She pops a grape into her mouth and leaves it at that.

Their lunch continues on as expected.  Catching up, teasing, swapping food.  Thirty minutes seem to pass faster than ever.  And despite enjoying himself amongst his friends, Yuuta can’t help but hyperfixate on that small, odd interaction.

It appeared as though (y/n) and the other first years had gotten along just fine.  Even mirroring old friends.  But he couldn’t help but feel like something was off, that things hadn’t always been this way, that there was a rift he hadn’t been present for.  He knows better than to question it straight away, so he matches energy and remains friendly the rest of the break.

But after telling his classmates he’ll meet up with them shortly, he lingers at the table while (y/n) packs up her things.

“That was nice” His voice feels stiff.  He clears his throat.

(y/n) looks up at him as she pulls the strap of her bag over her shoulder, a soft smile curling on her lips.

“It was” She affirms.

Yuuta shifts his weight from foot to foot as he tries to find the right thing to say next.  (y/n) watches this, and waits, patiently, for him to continue.

“I mean I… I like having lunch just… us,” He says, slowly, afraid of sounding too forward and insinuating something that could be off putting to her.  “But I’m glad you wanted to hang out with…” 

He struggled to find the right thing to say.  (y/n) tilted her head at him curiously, before providing the words for him.

“Your friends?” She suggests with a small smile.

Yuuta blinks, color spreading over his cheeks before his smile mirrors hers, and then he nods.

“Yeah,” He concurred.  

It must have been a rush of courage that compelled him to say what he did next, because as soon as he said it out loud, blood rushed up his neck and into his cheeks.

“You’re a great friend, too, by the way.  I’m glad you were here.  Or, well, are here”

She laughs, not because what he was was funny, but because she was overcome by delight by his words that she simply couldn’t contain it.  Her fingers curl tightly around her bag, her heart flutters with something sickeningly sweet in her chest.

This was that something more.  This wasn’t just silly eagerness towards a new friend.  This much more.  It was heavy.  It filled her heart until it burst and flooded her body with warmth, traveling down her spine in ticklish sparks, and ending in the tips of her fingers and toes.  It almost felt like cursed energy, the way it buzzed through her excitedly, on it’s own accord, but she knew better.

This was infatuation.  She was infatuated with Yuuta.  She had feelings for Yuuta.

“I’m glad you’re here, too, Yuuta,” She speaks with every genuine bone in her body, now reinforced with that tingling feeling that has her soft smile turning into a full blown grin.  “Really glad” She repeats softly.

He should feel embarrassed because he knows he’s blushing and he’s having a hard time holding eye contact with her, but for some reason, he doesn’t feel embarrassed at all.  Instead he smiles, bright and beautiful.

“I- I have to-” 

“You have class,” (y/n) laughs bashfully, turning away in an attempt to calm her warm cheeks and dopey grin.  “You should go before you’re late- I- I should go before I’m late” She stammers over her words, which is unlike her and more like him.

“Right, yeah,” He nods in a jerky motion as he starts to turn to leave, realizing he was going to have to run now if he wanted to make it on time.  “But I’ll- I’ll see you after? Maybe? Or do you have plans already we can just wait till tomor-” 

“After lessons works” (y/n) agrees.

“Okay- okay, yeah,” He’s still beaming, giddy with excitement now.  “After lessons” He repeats.

(y/n) giggles as she begins to make her way back towards the infirmary, in the opposite direction as him.  She gives him a small wave as she takes off, and Yuuta’s stunned in place for a moment before realizing that his tardiness was going to get him into trouble.

When (y/n) bursts through the infirmary doors with a string of excuses and pink cheeks, Shoko doesn’t say a word.  Not that she has to, her face says it all.

Yuuta is not spared in the same way.  When Gojo asks where he’s been, Panda is happy to supply what- or who- had kept him occupied.  He was teased relentlessly for the following fifteen minutes, but it didn’t bother him too much.  Sure, he was a little awkward at handling it and brushing off their assumptions.  He just hoped his classmates wouldn’t meddle and tell her about it later.

[ just come here and we can settle down ]

If Yuuta ever underestimated anything in his life, it was Gojo Satoru’s joy in meddling.

It’s a few weeks after the Night Parade of a Hundred Demons.  Jujutsu High is still under reconstruction, but it’s getting somewhere.  The gardens are being replanted, the courtyard isn’t just a pile of rubbish anymore, and slowly but surely, everyone is healing.

Especially thanks to (y/n), who had mastered her cursed technique.  Just in time too, as there were a lot of people that needed help.

Maki was finally recovering after pushing herself through physical therapy at a rate faster than (y/n) had ever seen in anyone before.  She was more amazed than surprised.  She would never underestimate that young woman’s abilities.

Toge was just starting to use his voice again, despite all of his friends telling him to just keep his mouth shut even if he was speaking in onigiri ingredients.  His sore throat still made his words sound choked and raspy, but he communicated with his friends nonetheless.

There were many other sorcerers that had gotten hurt that night, but just as her friends had, they were recovering, physically and mentally, from that horrible night.

Today the sun was shining.  It was still a chilly January day, but something about the clear skies drew (y/n) to linger on the steps of the main building.  She studied them beneath her boots.  Now that they were clear of snow, it looked as though a different color of stone was selected for their redesign.  Not too different, it was still a light brown, almost like sand, but different enough that the longer she stared at them, the more she could pick out the other differences between these and the old ones.  

“Ditching lessons?” 

Her eyes drag slowly away from the stone steps to see Gojo Satoru scaling them towards her.  His long legs had him next to her in a matter of seconds.  Truthfully, Shoko had said she needed a longer smoke break than usual today- which was only unusual because ever since christmas, she’d been taking longer smoke breaks, she’d only just mentioned it today.

“Not really.  Maybe” (y/n) replied indecisively.

“I’m still a teacher you know,” Gojo laughs at her honesty.  “I could get you in trouble~” 

The grin on his face tells her that there was absolutely no bite to his bark.  He just liked to pretend to be an adult sometimes.  (y/n) gives him a half hearted smile in amusement.  His grin weakens at the way hers drops as soon as she stares down at the stairs again.

He already knows what’s on her mind.  He was a better teacher than even he gave himself credit for.

“So he told you about Africa, huh?” 

Her head shoots back up, brows furrowed in a sad expression as she frowns at him.  

Yeah, he told me about Africa, she thinks, bitterly, even the thought making her mouth go sour.  She gnaws at the inside of her cheek roughly.

“I know you’re close.  I’m sorry that it’s happening,” Gojo sighs.  He stuffs his hands into his pockets.  “Kid’s got real potential.  He might even be stronger than me,” 

Just like his grin, his smirk speaks volumes.  (y/n’s) not sure if he really believes that, but she can tell he believes in Yuuta.

“Special Grade Sorcerers aren’t what they used to be, huh?” He asks, and she’s not sure if it’s rhetorical, so she just shrugs her shoulders, and directs her gaze downwards again.

Her throat burns.  Was that tears? 

“It won’t just be Africa,” Gojo says, slowly, like he’s trying to be careful.  She’s never known him to tread lightly.  He must really worry about her feelings.  She wonders why.  “Once he’s mastered his techniques, the geezers are gonna throw him at every curse they can sniff out” 

“I know” 

Her voice is small, but it holds enough certainty for Gojo to understand that she doesn’t need to be told what Yuuta’s future has in store.

“So,” Gojo takes a different tone as he kicks the toe of his shoe into a step.  “You’re not bothered that he’s a young widow, hm?” 

(y/n’s) face contorts into something strange and confused as she looks at him again.  She could almost laugh, if she wasn’t so disturbed by her teacher prying into her personal life.  She could tell him to buzz off, but it’d make no difference.  He’d probably just pester Shoko for the details and that would be even more embarrassing.

“I don’t even know what to-” 

“He cares about you a lot too,” Gojo says before she can finish.  (y/n’s) features relax as her eyes widen a little.  He looks out into the courtyard as if something interesting was happening over there.  “But Africa will be good for him.  And he’ll be back soon enough.  I’ll try ‘n pull some strings to have him visit, or something” 

Her impulse to say something snarky and get him to move on from the topic disappears.  Instead, she gives him a small nod, before tucking her cold fingers into the pockets of her coat.

“That would be nice,” She tells him, quietly, but surely.  “Thank you” 

Gojo grins from ear to ear as he turns back to his.  She has a feeling that under the white bandages, he’s winking dramatically.

He leaves without another word, leaving (y/n) a little bewildered by the sudden exit.  But then she sees another figure ascending the steps, and suddenly the cold isn’t the only thing making her cheeks pink.

Yuuta gives her the same smile he always does when he crosses her path.  Whether in passing or when he’s meeting up with her to hang out, his lips curl into the warmest smile she’s ever seen.  Even as clouds creep across the sky and snow begins to fall, she starts to feel toasty in her hat and coat.

She lies and tells him she has a few minutes to spare even though she’s been gone from the infirmary for a good twenty minutes now.  As they take a short walk around campus, her mood lightens up.  

They don’t talk about Africa.  Only good things.  A funny meme she’d seen, how Toge will be by the infirmary later because he refuses to keep his mouth shut to heal properly.  Maybe that wasn’t so much of a good thing, but Yuuta is laughing as he tells her about the pile of bloodied tissues accumulated at Toge’s desk.  Despite the twinge of guilt for laughing at their friend’s discomfort, she can’t help it.  Yuuta’s happiness is infectious.

This must be what swooning feels like, she thinks as she stares up at him while he tells her about his day.  It’s a silly story, maybe even kind of boring, but she hangs onto every word with eager anticipation at what he would share next.  He could read her the goddamn newspaper and she’d sit there with her head in her hands and give him her undivided attention.  Yeah, this is probably swooning.

“When do you have to be back?” Yuuta cuts off his rambling about training when he realizes they’ve been walking for some time now.

“Oh,” (y/n) shrugs sheepishly.  “Probably ten minutes ago” 

His eyes widen and he stops in his tracks, and before he even speaks she knows he’s about to apologize for taking up her time, so with a small laugh she shakes her head at him before he says a thing.

“Don’t worry about it,” She says, urging him to keep walking with her.  “Shoko needed some extra time today.  I don’t mind if I’m a little late” 

“You’re sure?” He double checks, because he doesn’t like being responsible for getting her behind schedule.  Nonetheless, he catches up to her as she keeps walking along the path.

Little does he know, if he asked her to ditch the rest of the day with him, she would take him by the hand and sprint off campus.

“Positive” (y/n) replies.

They continue to walk in the snow and talk about anything but Africa.  An unspoken agreement that it could wait.

[ oh darling, it’s alarming, to think of us apart ]

Eventually, they have to talk about Africa.

It comes up the morning Yuuta leaves. 

It’s early enough in the morning that it’s still dark.  Panda had helped him load his bags into Ijichi’s car, before giving him a quick goodbye so he could go back to bed.  Maki and Toge lingered a little longer, even in their pajamas.  But at some point Maki cursed about how early it was, gave her new friend a friendly- but not light- punch to the shoulder, and returned inside.

Toge and (y/n) were equally quiet, although for their different reasons.  Eventually Yuuta couldn’t fill the silence anymore, and they were out of time to stall.

To his surprise, Toge gave him a quick hug.  Just enough to give him a kind pat on the back and an eager ‘salmon!’ certainly wishing him luck on his big assignment.  Yuuta thanked him with a grin, proud to understand what he really meant.

Then he turned to (y/n), who’d barely moved an inch since sleepily walking out here.  He’d insisted to everyone last night that they could say their goodbyes then, but she’d stood her ground that she’d see him off today.  The others agreed.

Her arms were wrapped firmly around herself, and the smile on her face was sad when his eyes met hers.  Even when she tried to brighten up, to properly display her pride in him, she just couldn’t quite do it.

Toge watched as they stared at each other for a moment, neither one of them finding anything to say.  For a minute he thought it might be awkward, and he figured he should probably leave now.  

It only took Yuuta one step forward, his arms barely outstretched, before (y/n’s) finding the energy to leap towards him, crashing into him.  Her arms are thrown around his neck as she hugs him tightly.  As she tucks her chin against his shoulder she’s willing herself not to cry, because she knows it would make him feel bad, and that wouldn’t be fair.  Yuuta’s surprise has him hesitating for a second before he’s hugging her back, hoping to hold on just as securely as she’d latched onto him.

“Text a lot,” When she’s certain her voice won’t crack, (y/n) finally speaks.  “And call, too” 

Yuuta chuckles.  His eyes close as he rests his cheek against her head.  She’s never hugged him before, but he’s decided from this one that she’s the best hugger in the world.

“The time difference is-” 

“I don’t care” She mutters, and it’s punctuated with her arms squeezing around him a little tighter.

He returns the affection.

“Okay” He murmurs.

When they have to part, she lets out a shaky breath, and plasters on the widest smile she can.  She hopes he can see the tears in her eyes.  He does.

He gives her and Toge a wave before finally opening the door to the backseat.  He doesn’t say goodbye.  Instead he settles for, “See you later” 

(y/n) manages a little wave back.  It’s not until the car pulls away and is out of sight before a tear falls.  She’s quick to wipe it away.

Her and the cursed speech user walk back towards the main building together.  He gives her a sympathetic look.  She gives him a weak smile.

“Yeah, I know,” She sighs, drying her eyes once more and taking a deep breath in the hopes of not crying again.

He smiles back, but unlike hers, it’s bright, and cheeky.  He draws a heart in the air with his fingers.  She wants to roll her eyes, but she lets out a watery laugh at the action, and she knows her face is heating up with evidence of the truth.

“Something like that” She mumbles.  They don’t say anything else before parting ways to go back to their rooms.

By the time she collapses back in bed, she’s too awake to think about sleeping a little longer before her lesson with Shoko.  Pulling out her phone for a source of entertainment, she finds she already has a notification at this ungodly hour.

[yuuta] : try not to miss me too much :) i’ll be back before you know it

Tucking the blankets up to her chin, (y/n) settles into bed with a small smile.  Yuuta wasn’t often cheeky.  And when he was, it was always followed by a nervous laugh and bright pink cheeks.  Behind the shield of his phone he clearly has a leap in confidence.  She even laughs a little as she types back her response.

[ you and me, always, forever ]

Yuuta had some mixed feelings about going to Africa.

On the one hand, he was ecstatic.  He had finally climbed the ranks in this new life that he thinks could make everything make sense.  He felt a new sense of responsibility along with his new sense of self, and he knows that this debut of his in Africa was the next big step forwards.  He’d prove himself, he’d push himself, and he’d come home stronger than before.  He’d make his friends, and his teachers, proud of taking a chance on him.

On the other hand, his new purpose, this new sense of self that he was still discovering, felt so much more worth exploring when she was there too.  Yuuta wasn’t as naive as some may make him out to be.  He knew what love felt like.  He recognized that the ticklish feeling in his chest when she laughed, he was familiar with the buzz in his fingertips when she walked too close and her hand brushed over his.  He knows when he’s lying awake at night and she’s the one who crosses his mind that it’s no coincidence.

Yuuta knows that his heart holds much more than platonic regards for one (y/n) (y/l/n).  He knows that he adores her.  He knows that his heart longs for her in a way that couldn’t possibly be platonic.  The fact that they’ll have to be apart for some time makes him sad.  It makes him lonely.

Even now, after seeing her twenty minutes ago when they said their goodbyes, he already missed her.  He couldn’t help but text her right away, the desperation for keeping in contact pumping through him like ice, making him feel wide awake even at five in the morning.  The thought of losing touch over the next few months of him being away makes him sweat.  

He’d have to make sure to keep in touch, he makes a mental plan to always text her first thing in the morning, and last thing before he goes to sleep.  That way, even if he got busy throughout his day, he’d always have the time for her.  He wanted her to know that he’d always make the time for her.

Yuuta’s heart is racing, the adrenaline a toxic mix of excitement and anxiety.  Had he eaten a proper meal this morning he might’ve thrown up.

Just as he’s contemplating rolling down the window for some fresh air, his phone pings.

[(y/n/n)]: i take it you miss me already, yuuta?

It’s a silly little emoji, but he swears she’s sent him her heart in digital form and it leaps right from the screen and into his open palms.  He's smiling at the screen and responding with a reaction image he’d snagged from Toge just a few days ago.

[ you and me, always, forever ]

Gojo follows through on his promise.  Yuuta comes back to Jujutsu Tech for a small break after two months in Africa.

He gets to campus earlier than expected, surprising his classmates in the middle of a lesson.  Luckily today the lesson was rating the different flavors of kikufuku from a new shop Gojo had found, so he hadn’t interrupted anything too pressing.

It’s shortly after his early arrival that he asks the question that his friends think they should have placed money on him asking.  Maki mutters something to Toge about how she would’ve won had they done so.

“Where’s (y/n)?” 

While he stares at them with a dumbfounded expression, his friends laugh.  Loud cackling that’s intended to make him feel embarrassed, but he’s more confused than anything.  Even Gojo joins in once he’s not distracted by his leftover treats and Panda merrily tells their teacher that Yuuta’s already sick of them.

“That’s not it!” The poor boy puts his hands up in mock defense as he jumps to explain himself.  “I just want to tell her I’m back-” 

“She’s in the infirmary, genius” Maki crosses her arms, but her displeased attitude crumbles when a smirk tugs on her lips.  Yuuta forces a smile, but it’s awkward.  His nervous energy begins to shine through his excitement about returning home.

It’s not long after this that he’s delivering a string of excuses before darting out of the classroom and running to the infirmary.  Was it a little embarrassing to race towards her like this? Yeah, but there was barely anyone on campus right now anyways, so no one had to know just how eager he was to see her again.

Even though every bone in his body was practically vibrating by the time he made it there.

He peers through the small windows on the heavy doors outside the hospital classroom, making sure it was safe to enter before he barged in.  As soon as he looks inside he sees Shoko leaning against the cabinets.  (y/n) was standing in front of her, her back to the door, but she was easily recognizable to him.  Before he can knock to make himself known, Shoko catches him in her line of sight, and gives him an uncharacteristically wide grin.

In fact it’s so unusual on her face, that (y/n) perks up in the midst of whatever conversation they were having, curious to see what could've caught her interest so much.

Okkotsu Yuuta was not at all what she might have expected.

He gets to watch her light up in real time.  He hears her excitedly squealing from the other side of the door.  And somehow, even though it’s been a whole two months since he’s seen her, the ten seconds it takes for her to fly through the doors and into his arms seems to take too long.

She crashes into him so hard he stumbles to balance his footing.  She’s laughing and bouncing and rambling on, ‘I’m so happy you’re here! You’re early! I would’ve helped you with your things! Have you settled in? Have you eaten? Should we go get some food? I’ll order food! And we can stay in!’ She’s talking so fast that he catches about half of what she’s saying.  He only chuckles, not having the heart to tell her he can barely understand her.

Her arms squeeze tight around his neck before she finally lets him go.  With twinkling eyes and a smile so wide it must be sore on her cheeks, Yuuta’s slowly melting heart completely dissolves.

“Your hair’s different” She tilts her head at him while she admires the way his slightly longer hair is styled around his face.  She lets her curiosity get the best of her, reaching a hand out to gently push a strand away from his forehead.  

Yuuta hadn’t really given any thought to his hair.  He can’t remember when exactly it had gotten too long, when he’d parted it differently so it wasn’t a hindrance, but now he’s second guessing the change in style as if that change had been a conscious choice.

“Bad different?” 

There’s a small giggle in the back of her throat that she can’t help when his brows furrow at her.  He’s so cute, she thinks her heart could melt right here.

She shakes her head at him in a small motion.

“No,” She assured him.  “Good different” 

A small smile tugs at the corners of his lips, a proud little smile, like he’d gotten her to admit her deepest, most well kept secret.

“Good different?” He repeats, his voice dripping with mirth.

She rolls her eyes and crinkles her nose, but there’s no hiding the warmth in her cheeks and the way her dimples show when she smiles, even when she ducks her head from him.

“Shut up, Yuuta,” She pushes his shoulder but just as quickly grabs him by the elbow.  “Now come on! The day’s almost over already and we have so much we need to catch up on!” 

She forgets her bag in the infirmary as they wander campus together for a while, making pitstops to get him unpacked for his short visit and to snack up before they make their simple plans for the evening.  Conversation never ceases, even when she’s trying to place a takeout order over the phone, she finds herself remembering various little stories and jokes that she’d tucked away in her memory to share with him.  

There’s been a change in him.  It wasn’t just the training that treated him well with lean muscle, it wasn’t just the haircut, or the way he’d learned to wield his katana like it was an extension of him.  It was confidence.  It was happiness.  He didn’t stutter over his words nearly as often.  When he spoke he was sure of the things he said.  He would still blush when she got close enough or whispered something exceptionally sweet to him, but he was better at holding eye contact, and grew quite comfortable with reciprocating the small affections.  Maybe that was just it, he was finally comfortable here, and with himself.

Time flies faster than it had when they were apart.  The afternoon turns to evening which turns to the middle of the night.  They’re still sitting on the common room couch, side by side, lost in their own little world as a forgotten movie plays in the background.  Some of it had been watched when they’d eaten, but the takeout boxes on the coffee table are empty now.  Yuuta’s yawning and (y/n’s) eyelids are heavy as she tries to keep her attention on him while he tells a story, his voice getting lower and his words coming out slower the later it gets.  It’s not until he’s slumping into the uncomfortable cushions of the old couch that they even think to check the time.

When they do decide they’ve been up for too long, they make their way sneakily back to their rooms, hoping to remain as silent as possible.  But anyone who was up at this hour would hear their hushed laughter and aggressive shushing.  Yuuta bids her goodnight with the promise of taking everyone out for breakfast in the morning, but before he drops her off at her door, they share one more embrace.

She means to keep it quick, she really does.  She knows he’s tired, and maybe a little annoyed with all of the affection today, but she was so happy to have him back that she couldn’t help but want to keep him close forever.

Yuuta doesn’t seem annoyed in the slightest.  He hugs her back tightly, and makes no move to let her go anytime soon, so she doesn’t, either.  They stand that way at her door for an unknown amount of time, each waiting for the other to pull away first.

It takes some time, but eventually she shuffles out of his hold and gives him a bashful little smile followed by, “I’m really glad you’re home, Yuuta” 

The tension lays itself on thick, making sure to smother Yuuta until the back of his neck feels hot and his heart beats so hard in his chest he’s certain she’s going to notice and tease him for it.

“Me too” He manages to murmur back.  

He’s lucky he’s able to return her sweet ‘goodnight!’ too, because his throat is tightening on itself and he thinks he could start choking just standing there.

When he drags himself back to his own room and his heart calms down- just a little bit- Yuuta decides he’s going to have to do something about that tension before it kills him.

[ you and me, always, forever ]

“This is getting ridiculous,” Maki declares before kicking open the classroom door.  Her two friends follow in behind her.  “It’s actually going to make me sick.  I think we should just say something already” 

“Don’t kick doors down Maki” Panda sighs, but his warning goes ignored.

“Salmon,” Toge shrugs his shoulders, raising his hands to be palms up, as though indicating what else is there to do?

“Well for starters, we get the idiots to talk to each other,” Maki states, picking up the notebook off her usual desk.  

It was the whole reason they came back to class so late in the day, seeing as this particular notebook had the notes from their lesson earlier.  It was important she made the trip back for it before they started their study session.  She did take the better notes of the three of them.

“Apparently all their time together isn’t getting anywhere,” She huffs.  “I swear, all he does is talk about her.  He’s bound to have something good enough to confess already, right?” 

Toge giggles into his collar.

“Ease up a bit, they’ll come around to it when they’re ready, won’t they?” Panda tries to be the voice of reason.  

There’s a pause for silence.  And then Toge and Maki are cackling so hard they have to hold their stomachs to relieve the twisting knots of their muscles.

“It’s been months!” Maki hollers through her mania.

“Salmon!” 

“I mean, how much more of this can you guys take?” She doesn’t give them the time to answer her question.  “I can’t stand listening to him ramble on and on about her.  Did you know the one phone call I got, he talked about her the whole time?” 

“You’ve mentioned” Panda mumbles, awkwardly rubbing the back of his head.

“Tuna tuna” Toge agreed, before making a crude motion with his hands that had Maki bursting into laughter again.

Maki rolls her eyes, before grabbing her missing notebook from her desk and stuffing it into her backpack.  She’d been holding back on intervening on these two for months now.  At first, she didn’t care enough.  If (y/n) and Yuuta wanted to dance around each other like children with crushes then that was their business.  But now the romantic tension was so thick it choked her up to be in a room with them.  The lingering stares, the flirty giggles, the blushing- gah- she couldn’t stand it.

Don’t get her wrong, she didn’t hate love, and she didn’t hate either of them for being in love.  She hated wimps.  And these two were being the wimpiest people she’s ever seen for not fessing up already.

Also, wasn’t she just being a good friend for getting two dumbasses in love to admit they’re in love with each other? She did want them to be together after all, they were good for each other.

“I think it’s sweet that he loves her so much!” Panda argues.  “I don’t mind listening to it.  (y/n’s) really nice.  They deserve each other” 

“Oh, yeah, they deserve each other,” Maki agrees but her tone drips with something hostile.  “No shit, do you not see how much she stares at him?” 

Toge’s snickering gets louder.  It wasn’t often there was gossip among the small group, there wasn’t exactly time for it.  But this was rather entertaining, and watching two of his friends trip over themselves with how hard they’d been crushing on each other had been the cherry on top.

“Well, yeah,” Panda finally lets out a small laugh.  “Actually, the other day I was talking to her, and I don’t think she heard a word I said,” He chuckles as he recalls the way her eyes glazed over and a dopey little smile took over her face.  “I don’t know how he hasn’t noticed it” 

“Salmon” Toge scoffs.

“Yeah, he’s more oblivious than she is” Maki agrees.

“But I don’t think we should do anything about it” Panda tries to reason.

“They’re never going to make a move if we don’t say something,” Maki huffs.  “Can’t they just get it over with already? How hard is a confession anyways?” 

“Like you’ve ever confessed to anyone” Panda throws back at her with a proud grin.

Toge makes a sound of delight to see the gossiping turning into something much more interesting.

Maki glares at the both of them before snarling.

“That’s it!” She declares, throwing her bag over her shoulder.  “I’m going to go tell them right now.  Whoever I find first is going to hear great news today!” 

“Maki don’t!” Panda hollers, marching after her out the door.  “It’s not our place! That’s an invasion of privacy!” 

Toge’s enthusiastic babbling of rice ball ingredients follows them out into the hall, eager to see where this was going to go.

The classroom door slides shut behind him, and the sounds of their heavy, quick footsteps drones on until they’re too far to be heard.  It’s not until the room is completely silent that a small exhale of relief is heard, under the large desk that Gojo pretended to use during his lessons.

“I think we’re in the clear” Yuuta whispers, once he’s absolutely certain that no one is left in the room.

He drops his hand from over (y/n’s) mouth, where she’s been gnawing on her bottom lip for the last six minutes in fear that their classmates were going to notice them hiding under there.

“Really?” She asks in a teasing tone of voice.  “Because it sounds like they’re looking for us” 

Yuuta huffs in defeat, a look on his face that completely contrasts her own.  (y/n’s) brightened, grinning from ear to ear and giggling under her breath.  

They’re squished into the small space so when she giggles he can feel her breath fanning over his neck, and even though he wants to grab her by the shoulders and make her come back to reality- which is that their friends are on a rampage right now to get them to confess to each other, something they’d just done minutes before they’d stormed into this very classroom- but he can’t.  He takes one look at her, with her starry eyes and cute smile and he accepts whatever fate has in store for him.

(y/n) had surprised him here, happily announcing she wrapped up her lessons early so that they could spend the afternoon together.  He only had a few days left until he’d be shipped off to Africa again, so she’d worked diligently today to be sure she could give him every spare minute of her free time.  Somehow they’d wound up in the classroom alone.  

One minute Yuuta’s going on about how excited he was to hang out with her and the next thing he knows he’s accidentally letting it slip that he’d like to have her all to himself all the time.  He realized instantly that he’d said something a little too romantically charged because suddenly she’s staring up at him with those damn wide eyes and a smile full of secrets.

He must’ve said something right though, because one thing led to another and she had an iron grip on his collar while her strawberry gloss smeared all over his mouth.

(y/n) smirks now as she reaches her thumb up to his lips now, wiping away a subtle speck of pink glitter that had been left behind there.  Her face heats up as she recalls how carried away she’d gotten just minutes ago.  Until their friends showed up and nearly caught them in the act.  

Had Maki kicked down that door just a minute earlier, they surely would’ve been caught in their scrambling.  More specifically, they would’ve caught the awkward way Yuuta had lifted (y/n) off the desk he’d just set her on, only to hustle them both under the desk, the only half-decent hiding place in this whole room.

“You’re kidding,” She’d mumbled when he drew his knees to his chest and beckoned her to duck under with him.  She crowds into the space, but not without scolding him.  “They’re definitely going to-” He covers her mouth with his large palm, effectively quieting her, just as the door slams open.

Now she knows they should be scrambling out of here, before they were eventually caught- again- but she stays put in the tiny space where their legs are sore and cramped together.

“So you talk about me to all your friends, hm?” She muses, leaning in impossibly closer to give him her best shit eating grin.  It easily has Yuuta blushing from his neck to his ears as he turns his head to relieve himself from the heavy eye contact.

“Yeah yeah,” He mumbles, tugging at his collar in an attempt to soothe the heat.  Just as the embarrassment settles in, he whips his head back to meet her stare with a wild look in his eye that actually catches her off guard.  “But you’ve been staring at me!” He says.

She opens her mouth to defend herself, but the proof had been hollering in this very room just moments ago during Maki’s fit.  Panda had happily supplied the damn evidence.

So she shuts her mouth, and now Yuuta’s beaming at her with victorious pride.  

“So it’s true!?” He asks excitedly.

“You already know that, jerk,” She rolls her eyes at him, but it’s filled with affection.  “You’re the one who’s in love with me!” She says with a jab to his chest.

Yuuta catches her hand with his before she can pull it away, making her pleased little grin fall to something softer.  He’s able to watch in real time as her eyelashes flutter when her glance darts down to his lips, and when she looks up at him again, it’s with color in her cheeks and a sweetness in her gaze that has him turning to putty.

What was meant to be a half-hearted jest based on something Panda had said that she wasn’t exactly meant to hear now hangs in the air between them so heavy it feels like gravity grows in strength.  Her heart is pounding in her chest.  Her hand feels hot in his.  And now she sits with baited breath and wide eyes as she waits for him to say something.

Yuuta’s smiling, his free hand coming up to the nape of her neck, sweeping her hair away before pulling her closer.  She tilts her head towards him, but he stops just before their lips could graze over one another.

“You love me too?” He whispers.

He phrases it like a question, but he already knows it to be true.  He just wants to hear her say it.

Her lips quirk into a sweet smile as her eyes flicker between his, lashes heavy, pupils blown wide in her irises.  She’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, and the thought of getting to love her and be loved by her has his heart racing so fast he’s almost forgetting that he’s asked her a question because all he wants is to kiss her.

“Of course I do,” She murmurs, her soft lips ghosting over his, eager to feel them against hers again.  “Think I’ve always loved you, Yuuta,” She adds in a quieter voice.  A carefully protected deep adoration in her heart, now bestowed upon his.  “Think it’s always been you and me” She hums softly, taken away by the warmth in her chest and the butterflies in her tummy.

She could sit here and whisper sweet things to him for hours, maybe even forever.

His thumb strokes under her jaw in a gentle motion, caressing the junction at her jawline and neck.  He looks radiant, smiling down at her like nothing’s ever made him so happy.  This spurs her into wanting to say more sweet things, but before she gets the chance, he’s slanting his lips over hers.

She melts into him in every sense of the word.  Her free hand reaches for his shoulder, before sliding around his neck so she could lean into him further.  The small space they’re still hiding in only shrinks as she tries to get closer to him.  Both pairs of their legs are too long to keep bent under the desk, so she sticks one leg out, accidentally kicking the chair in front of them but she pays it no mind.  She just focuses on getting closer to him, hooking her other leg underneath herself to give her better leverage and a tiny bit more space to scoot closer.

Her hands are on his collar again as soon as he grabs her by the hips.  He gives them a gentle squeeze and she giggles softly into his mouth, breaking their kiss for only a moment.  They share wide smiles and lovesick eyes before leaning into each other again and sealing their lips in a heated and much more passionate kiss.

They don’t think at all about the noise of the chair clattering across the floor or the distinct sound of their giggling as they get swept away with one another.  In fact they completely forget that they’re only in this position because they’d been trying to keep hidden.  Both too consumed with memorizing the feeling of each other’s lips.  

It’s a sweet moment, really, the first time young lovers get to explore the way the other kisses.  Gently, with timid, inexperienced brushes.  Or hungrily, with eager, heated desire.  Taking their time was a luxury they’d thought they could finally afford.

But this time when the door opens it’s with stealth.  It slides in silence, and the steps that creep in are also with slow precision, so as not to make even a creak in the floorboards.

All that can be seen by the three intruders are the three legs jutting out from under the desk.  A familiar pair of Converse and one familiar Mary Jane with a heart shaped buckle kicking gently about on the floorboards, rocking with delight.

The hushed sound of lips smacking only ceased when there was a giggle, one of them or both of them, murmuring between kisses and giggles like a pair of school children.

There’s a few things that are audible, murmurs of ‘I love you so much’ or ‘you’re so pretty’ repeated between them like mantras.  This continues for a minute until one of the three takes a heavier step than he means to with his paw, and the room goes completely silent- save for the lewd ‘smack!’ of a pair of lips seizing upon hearing the tell-tale sign of a lurker.

Maki and Toge glare back at Panda, who sheepishly grins and shrugs his shoulders.

(y/n) and Yuuta stare at each other in horrified shock.  They don’t get the chance to come up with a plan of attack before someone is on top of the desk with a squeak of sneakers.  And then Toge is bending over the surface, staring wide eyes at the two in a rather compromising position- (y/n’s) leg is thrown over Yuuta’s lap and being kept there by a firm hand, her hands are still balled up in his unbuttoned collar, their lips are thoroughly swollen she’s effectively transferred most of her lip gloss onto his mouth, and chin and neck- there’s nothing innocent about them.  Toge stares between them both before he lets out a whistle, giggling as he hops off the desk again.

Yuuta winces as he quickly releases his grip on (y/n’s) leg so they can both scramble out from under the desk and up to their feet.  It’s ungraceful, uncoordinated as they awkwardly untangle to clamber upwards.  Yuuta hits his head on the hard oak loud enough that they both wince, (y/n) quickly inspecting the instant bump that forms at the occiput of his skull.

“No way!” Maki breaks the tension first, her jaw hanging open as she grins in amusement at having caught the two of them here.  “You were hiding out in here the whole time!?”

“Tuna!” Toge shoves his finger in their direction in accusation.

“Kissing!” Panda gasps, his paws over his face.

“Why didn’t you just say something,” Maki huffed.  “Walked around for ten minutes for no reason.  Waste of my time” She grumbles as she crosses her arms.

“Uh, sorry” (y/n) said sheepishly.

“Yeah, sorry,” Yuuta pipes up.  “It was just… uh… awkward” 

“You’re awkward!” Maki barks back with a dismissive wave of her hand.  “Jeez, glad you got it over with finally” She bids them her blessing with rough words before spinning around and leaving the room without saying anything else.

Panda gives them a bright smile and nod of his head, his own friendly way of telling them he was happy for them.

“Hope you’re happy” He tells them out of the kindness of his soul before excusing himself as well.

“Salmon!” Toge agrees with a grin and friendly wave before also leaving.

All the lurking around they’d done, only to give them space as soon as they caught what they needed to.

The remaining pair turned to each other, gaping mouths turning into shy smiles as they slowly burst into laughter together.  What was supposed to be a slow introduction of new feelings to explore had now been on display to pretty much everyone they knew.  Shyness began to wash away as there was no more use for it.  Yuuta reaches for his hand and (y/n’s) fingers intertwined with his as though they’d familiarized themselves there before.  She smiles as he uses her hand to pull her closer to him, until the toes of her shoes barely bump into his.

They don’t say anything, they don’t need to.  (y/n) knows what he means when he cradles her face in his palm and smiles down at her.  He knows what she means when her nose crinkles and her free hand reaches to hold onto his collar once more.  Their ‘i love yous’ had almost always been silent, and they would forever understand it in its unspoken form.

__

this is for @staygoldsquatchling02​ for being excited about my rotting brain full of yuuta fluff a/n: y’all i got soo carried away with this-

xoxo ~ jordie

[love-bitesx]

May I request a hobie x fem reader

Reader is also a spider person and dating hobie. she gets in a fight with other spider people that been talking about hobie behind his back, And he just comfort her and help with her injuries.

: ̗̀➛ HONOUR. hobie brown x fem!reader

summary: after hearing fellow spider-people talking rudely about hobie, y/n defends him, taking a couples punches in the process. words: 1.6k warnings: fem reader, she/her pronouns used, mentions of blood & injury, miguels pissy like always, general mentions of fighting/violence

thank you sm for the request!! i hope i did it justice. im getting through all the asks, so pls be patient! ily all sm

"he's just a bit freaky, you know."

shoulders tensing, you eavesdropped on a pair of haphazard spider-people, their snark voices carrying through the reverberant room. you were sitting by the 'go-home machine' – aptly named – waiting for miguel to arrive and dish out orders, listening to them tattle about hobie brown.

"literally," a second voice tagged themselves in, jumping on the wagon of comments, "just turns up, acts like a prick and somehow everyone puts up with him."

chest burning, you tried to grasp your composure, gripping onto it with white knuckles – similar treatment given to the metallic desk you sat on.

first hand, you saw how hard hobie worked – having been dating him for a while now. though he lived to deny it, saying he was only in the spider society to look after you, gwen and pavitr - you constantly experienced his passion for keeping you all safe. even if its unconventional, he deserved his place here more than anyone.

"don't know what miguel was thinking bringing him here," the first spider snarled, a hint of a smirk lacing his tone, "he's useless."

stomach twisting, you physically bit down on your tongue - miguel would kill you in broad daylight if you started a fight in the headquarters (ironic, you thought, but you didn't want to bite the hand that fed you).

"freakshow, honestly," the other muttered, followed by a cold-hearted guffaw that made your blood spurt past the boiling point, "he doesn't even belong here."

as though someone had physically flipped your restraint, severing your ties, you turned to the duo, taking them by surprise when you shot a web in their direction, sticking the second man's mouth shut.

"what the hell?" the free one spun to you, stance ready.

you kept your posture strong, enraged eyes trained on him, "don’t be such a prick,” you spat through a clenched jaw. wrist aching at the urge to web him to the wall, your fingers itched.

he scoffed, stepping up to you, “i don’t think it’s any of your business, sweetheart.”

in your peripheral, your eyes caught the sight of the second spider clawing at the webs smothering his face, and you shot again – his hands now clasped together against his chest like a prayer.

a second audacious scoff sounded from the man in front of you, and a threatening tingle vibrated each and every bone of your spine – your spidey-senses alive with caution. it quickly became apparent why, when a fist flew towards the side of your head – an aggressive muttering of “oi, what do you think you’re doing?” accompanying it.

an inch before it connected, you ducked your head, crouching to the floor and kicking at the man’s knees. he buckled, falling to the ground and your fist collided with his jaw. your rage clouded your vision, adrenaline pumping through your veins like a poison. knuckles aching, pulled back, you webbed him to the concrete.

“y/n?” margo called from behind you, and you turned to see her. eyes wide like saucers, she looked at you with confusion.

“they start—” you couldn’t even finish your sentence when a powerful blow hit the side of your cheek, knocking you to the side, hip smashing into the corner of a desk.

shielding yourself with your arms, you caught vision of your attacker; the first man you webbed had freed himself, pouncing to you in defence. yelling something ending in “bitch”, he swung again, crashing into your ribs and you groaned in pain, connecting your web to a beam just behind him, pulling yourself away from his towering stance. with your new advantage, though winded, you raised your wrist to web him once more, when the huge, mechanical doors swung open.

“what the hell is going on in here?” miguel’s booming voice thundered across each vibrating wall, and you both froze, your arm gripped around your aching ribcage.

accompanying him was a cluster of spider-people, excluding your boyfriend. they took a second to adjust to the darkness of the room, before they halted at the scene in front of him.

“she went crazy, miguel!” the man on the floor shouted in defence, and your chest was heaving so heavily, you were at a loss for words.

“y/n, what happened?” gwen’s tone was soft, you could feel them approaching, your adrenaline draining through your body – taking any comprehensible inhibition with it.

“he swung at me!” you barked back, and the feeling of everyone’s eyes on you made your chest swell in anger, “don’t spin this on me when they’re the ones who started it.”

“we didn’t do anything!” unwebbing themselves from the floor, you stared at them, your eyes alive with rage, “she just came at us for no reason. she’s crazy, man.”

“i’m not—”

“enough! all of you!” miguel’s voice was heavy with anger, and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t send a shot of fear to pierce your chest, breaking through the bone.

“i don’t care what happened,” he spat, looking at you like you were dirt on his shoe, “you two,” he pointed at your attackers, “get out.”

without a word of complaint, they filtered out behind your petrifying boss, and his enraged eyes fell on you.

"you," he paused, stepping until his lofty stature towered you, "you're one of our best, and you're picking stupid fights?"

"you don't understand, they–" you tried, grasping desperately at your side.

"i don't care what happened," he repeated his earlier quip, "it's not happening again, got it?"

reluctantly, you nodded, and he could practically see the flames in your iris, it burnt you to give over.

"go home, y/n."

"miguel–" gwen tried to intervene, but miguel wasn't paying attention.

"go home."

sitting on your bathroom counter, you struggled with the first-aid kit, hands trembling in pain as you attempted to patch up the skin that sat split open on your cheekbone. frustrated, you slammed the bandages and compact mirror down on the hard surface, chest burning with annoyance.

spine fuzzing, you felt the empty space change in your apartment, the tingling of static air putting you on edge.

"darlin'? you in 'ere?" hobie's rich voice carried through the walls, and you sighed in relief.

"hobie?" the bathroom door creaked open and he was standing there, dark eyes taking in your wounded appearance.

"fucking 'ell," he muttered, booted feet taking him to you, calloused hands gentle against your cheeks.

"you should see the other guy," a half-hearted smile played at your lips and you were melting into him, your anger subsiding, "well, guys."

"i heard," his expression didn't change, but his eyes scanned your open wound, "gwen wanted me to tell you she thinks you're badass."

a chuckle resonated in your throat, and you immediately regretted it as the vibration shot a bullet of pain through your bruised ribs. that's what hobie's mood shifted, his brows furrowed in worry and lifting your chin to him.

"what 'appened, pretty?" he reached for the first-aid kit, pushing your legs open to step between them – he tended to your wound softly, "can you tell me?"

hesitation brung you to a halt and you bit your lip. you had fought over him, defending him when he couldn't, but part of you wasn't sure how he would react. he saw this, sensing the tension in your chest, and longed to catch a glimpse inside your mind.

"look, i can't 'ave my girl get done up and not tell me what 'appened," a flash of his teeth as he smiled, and you reflected this, a tired grin on your lips.

"it was just," you sighed, wincing as he pressed a cloth to your cut, "they were being so rude."

"about you, darlin'? good on ya, defending yourself," he muttered affirmingly, dabbing the blood away.

"about you."

he stopped then. your eyes darted across his face for any signs of a reaction, nerves building in your throat. seconds of silence followed, and the air between you both almost dissipated as the tension grew. hobie squashed it, though.

pulling your face to his, he kissed you. lips warm with passion and respect, they melted together. hand falling to your waist, you were flush against him, the heat of his body overwhelming any of the pain pulsing in your skin. relief washed over you instantly. stress from the day just withering away at the power of his adoration.

breaking the kiss, hobie rested his forehead against yours, both chests heaving in tandem.

"you didn't 'ave to do that, darlin'," he muttered, and his brain was so conflicted. whilst his heart raced at the thought of you putting yourself in harms way to defend him, he felt guilty at how much pain it put you in to do so.

"you know i'd do anything for you, hobie." and his heart settled at that statement, nuzzling itself in the all-encompassing feeling of love overcoming him.

not feeling the need to do anything else, he kissed you again, this time with such a force you leaned back under the weight of him, shoulders pressed into the mirror. he was gripping your thighs, as to not tamper with the swelling bruise on your hip, and you succumbed to your boyfriend, lost in his touch, pouting when he pulled away.

"miguel's well pissed at you, by the way," he chuckled, cheeks flushed, massaging the skin of your thigh.

"i'm surprised it didn't happen earlier," you giggled, not excited to return to hq and see him again when needed.

placing a trail of kisses from your forehead to your lips, hobie's eyes softened.

"so proud of you, pretty."

[general-fanfiction]

Hopes And Fears. (Wally Clark x Reader)

Summary: Y/N’s death is traumatic. So traumatic in fact, she can’t even look at Wally without reliving what happened to her.

Word Count: 3,073

Gif Not Mine. Requests are open!

Warnings: Violence, Swear Words, Hints Of Rape?

I’m not too sure how I feel about this to be honest but it’s my first fic since coming back and I would love to write for Wally more so please send requests! I might continue with this if people like it, I’m not sure yet though.

“Homecoming game tonight. Are you nervous?”

Closing my locker, I look to my left to see Abby, my best friend since elementary school. We’re inseparable. People find it odd that we look like we are complete opposites and yet we are the platonic loves of each other's lives. She’s a very loud and extroverted theater kid, I’m quiet, shy and introverted. Though in a weird turn of events, I became head cheerleader. Kind of ironic right?

“I’m not too worried. We’ve been rehearsing everyday, sometimes twice a day. I think we might actually have our best routine yet, I just hope we can pull it off.”

“You’ll be great, you always are. Besides I heard Spencer is going to ask you to be his date for homecoming.”

Abby’s words catch me off guard. Spencer is the Split River High quarterback. While typically the head cheerleader and quarterback are perfect for each other, I’m way below his level that the thought of us being together is ridiculous. I couldn’t even imagine it, that’s how ludicrous the idea of us is. Not that I would complain, Spencer is model level attractive, an academic genius and of course, insanely popular. Any girl would die to be his homecoming date. Me included.

“Don’t be stupid.” The blush on my cheeks is a vibrant red as I speak, leaning against my locker with my books clenched against my chest.

“I’m being serious. Some of the other football guys were talking about it in study hall. Apparently he’s got some sort of big surprise planned.”

Her grin is wide, clearly happy for me, though I can’t match it. I still don’t believe it, that sort of thing does not happen to girls like me. Guys aren’t interested in girls like me. That’s just the way high school works, maybe I’ll blossom when I head off to college at the end of this year but for now, guys keep their distance. My mom always told me that high school guys like girls that are easy and that because I know my worth, guys don’t even attempt it. I’ve always hated that idea though. If nothing else but for the slightly sexist and anti-feminist ideals that it pushes.

“Not to alarm you Y/N but he’s walking down the hallway.” Abby tells me, grabbing my forearm tightly, obviously excited. “I think he’s headed this way so that’s my cue. Have fun, text me all the details!”

With that she scurries away, flashing me a cheesy smile over her shoulder as she speeds down the hallway. Almost bumping into several other students as she does so. I laugh slightly, always entertained by her antics before hearing the metal of the locker next to me clang at the sound of somebody leaning against it.

“Mind if I steal you for a second Y/N?”

Spencer’s voice is charming and smooth, a relaxed smirk on his face as he stares down at me. His eyes are intoxicating and I feel as though I’m drowning in them. There’s no way Abby could be right. God, if she is I’ll never hear the end of it. Maybe I could live with that though, especially if it does result in Spencer potentially being my boyfriend.

“Sure, yeah, okay.”

Spencer’s smirk grows wider, and as he leans in to take my hand in his, I catch a whiff of his cologne. A dark musk that matches the darkness of his eyes and hair perfectly, it takes everything in me not to collapse right then and there. My senses are completely heightened and I can feel the roughness of his hand against my palm. The butterflies in my stomach make me feel as though I’m about to explode from my nerves and before I know it we’ve made our way to the old block of showers that were closed in 2004, following an incident involving an inappropriate relationship between a student and gym coach. New showers were remodeled and these were left to decay.

Spencer takes my books out of my hands, placing them on the bench that sits in the center of the room before turning to face me. His hand gently cups my cheek and although his smile is soft and loving. His eyes hold a mischievous glint. Without saying anything he leans down to kiss me, unprepared and a little shocked I step backwards.

“I didn’t know you wanted to kiss me. I didn’t even know you liked me.” I tell him, shuffling backwards again as he continues to approach me.

“Everybody likes you. I’ve just been wanting to save this for a special occasion, and what better time than homecoming?”

With my back pressed against the wall, a soft smile forms on my face as he cages me in. Though it doesn’t feel threatening, it feels new and exciting and my insides are on fire waiting to see what happens. I feel as though I finally understand what the cringey teen movies are talking about when they discuss sex and love and passion.

“I really like you Spencer.” I whisper, voice barely audible, gazing up at him through my lashes.

He laughs, pushing his hair out of his face before leaning down once again. This time his lips do touch mine and it’s nothing like I imagined. He’s rough, hands moving down to grab my breasts , almost painfully. The softness from before clearly disappeared. As much as it is a dream come true to be making out with the guy of my dreams, I’m still disappointed that this is how my first kiss turned out. His tongue forces its way into my mouth and its uncomfortable, I know this isn’t how it is supposed to go. As I try to pull away, to allow myself some air, his hand grips my throat, holding me in place. Continuing his almost aggressive movements.

“Yo Spence, did you get the bitch?”

Finally, he pulls away. I manage to take in some air despite his hand still wrapped around my neck. He’s looking over his shoulder, nodding his head. The rest of the football team stands in the doorway, menacing looks on their faces as they see me in such a vulnerable position. I hear the click of the door lock, and the butterflies in my stomach don’t feel so good anymore. The energy in the room shifts to one of darkness and evil, no trace of kindness and love.

Spencer looks at me, and for the first time in my life, I fear for my safety. This is not the same guy that I was obsessed with. There is no sign of human emotion on his face, no sympathy or pity. Gripping his hand to try and pry it away from my throat, I feel the tears begin to prick in the corners of my eyes and upon seeing my reaction, he smiles. My pain is his pleasure. Despite my attempts at removing his hand, his grip only gets tighter and I’m pushed further against the wall.

“Let’s have some fun boys.”

—-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A dull ache radiates through my body, pushing through the pain, I force myself to stand up. Staring at the room around me, I wonder if I was dreaming. However, with no sign of my books on the bench, I take that as confirmation that what I experienced did truly happen. Blood splatters the walls and floor but with no sign of injury on my body, I refuse to believe it’s mine. Sure, what happened was bad, but not that bad.

Not wanting to stay in this room any longer, I quickly make my way to the exit, pushing open the door with more force than necessary causing it to slam against the outside wall. Making the shy looking boy who happens to be standing outside jump. I smile apologetically, about to make my way past him when I notice what he’s wearing. Clad in double denim with round glasses, he looks straight out of Friends.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t want to come in because I thought you might feel kind of exposed but I wanted to introduce myself.” He says quietly, holding out his hand for me to shake. “I’m Charlie.”

Shifting my gaze between his hand and his face, my mind can’t really comprehend what is happening. Why am I suddenly meeting someone new? By the old shower block of all places, especially after what has just happened to me. The confusion on my face must be obvious as he smiles before revoking his hand.

“You haven’t worked it out yet have you?” He asks, almost as though he doesn’t want to push me.

“You’re dead, cherry pop.”

Looking to my right, I spot a girl sat against the wall, blue lollipop between her lips that has stained them ever so slightly. Wearing a black turtleneck with a matching cap and pinstripe pants, she’s the kind of girl that would intimidate me had I seen her walking down the street. Who am I kidding? She still intimidates me.

“Rhonda, Mr Martin told us to be gentle with her!”

“I’m sorry, I actually have somewhere to be but you two look great.” I tell them, beginning to walk away and head towards the main school building.

“Did you not hear me? You’re dead, you don’t have anywhere to be.” The girl, I’m assuming Rhonda, shouts after me, causing me to stop in my tracks.

“Look I don’t know what sort of joke this is, but it’s not funny. Seriously, go find some other kid to pick on.”

As I walk into the school building, I begin my mission of searching for Abby, hoping I can find her in the auditorium or even the costume department. My search doesn’t take too long, as my assumptions proved correct. She is sitting on the stage, the theater club’s newest script in one hand and her phone in the other. Our text thread open on her screen, as I sit myself beside her, she doesn’t even acknowledge me, eyes flicking between her phone and the script.

“Abby, I need to tell you something but you have to swear you will not tell anyone.”

She completely ignores me, flipping the page of her script. Its as if I’m invisible to her, a joke that isn’t funny. Waving my hand in front of her face in an attempt to get her attention also proves futile as she doesn’t even look up. Glancing at her phone I notice she’s messaged me multiple times asking me of my whereabouts, telling me she’s seen Spencer but she didn’t see me with him, asking me if I am his homecoming date.

“Abby, seriously? This is important, your show can wait.”

“She can’t hear you.” Charlie says, him and Rhonda standing in front of me, arms resting on the edge of the stage. “Or see you, we’re invisible to them. Nothing you do is going to change that.”

“I don’t get it, why isn’t she answering me?” I ask, panic starting to set it as I grow more and more confused at my situation.

“Oh my god, do I really have to tell you again? Are you that fucking stupid? You’re dead. D-E-A-D. Deceased. Not living.” Rhonda speaks slowly, using a voice you would use for a child.

“I can’t be dead. There’s no way, it’s just not possible.”

“Yeah it takes some getting used to, but we’re all friends and you’ll come to terms with it soon enough. Mr Martin’s support group helps too.” Charlie tells me, smiling encouragingly as I watch Abby walk away with some of the other theater kids.

“Support group?” I ask, hopping off the stage to stand with the only two people that can see me.

“Come on, we’ll take you.” Rhonda states, almost as if it's more of a chore and not like she offered to take me.

—-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sitting in a circle with the rest of the group, I can’t help my heart racing as I spot the football player sitting amongst everyone. He reminds me of Spencer and that’s what makes me nervous, or maybe it’s just the fact that he plays football. Either way I can’t help but feel on edge, hence why I placed myself in the furthest seat from him.

As I take in the rest of the room, I notice the basketball team playing further down the court. Not aware of the existence of the group of ghosts sat in a circle like they’re in an AA meeting. It feels so surreal, almost like an intricate nightmare that I will wake up from at any moment. Yet everything I’ve seen so far has been pretty real.

“We have a new student, would you like to introduce yourself?” The only teacher, who I am guessing is Mr Martin asks, as I feel all eyes divert their attention towards me.

The football player has a gentle aura around him, smiling at me as he waits for an answer to Mr Martin’s question. I look away quickly, unable to face the feelings of sickness in my stomach that I get when I look at him.

“I’m Y/N.”

The group mumbles a chorus of welcomes as I stare at the floor, still struggling to come to terms with the fact that I am actually dead.

“It’s hard at first, but I’m grateful that you decided to give the group a shot. It helps us all to move forward instead of focusing on our deaths and the past.” Mr Martin tells me, offering a look of sympathy. “Charlie, Rhonda, thank you for being Y/N’s guide, I’m sure it was very helpful.”

“So how did you die? In the old showers clearly, but that’s gotta be an interesting story right?” Rhonda asks, her eyes piercing into me as she places the lollipop back between her lips.

“Rhonda, you can’t just ask people that. Let her get used to us at least.”

His voice startles me, it’s as gentle as his aura. Soft and ever so charming. The protection in his tone is obvious as though he doesn’t wanna frighten me away and I glance at him for a moment. His football shirt sits perfectly against his toned chest and a gold chain hangs delicately from his neck. He’s beautiful. Truly beautiful.

“I’m Wally by the way, Wally Clark.” His voice is directed at me, staring at me intently.

At that moment, I can’t help but be transported back to before. Remembering my screams and pleads for them to stop. Praying someone would hear me and come to my rescue. They never did. They never stopped.

Jumping up from my chair, I feel myself getting worked up as I sprint out of the room. Terrified of reliving the past. Finding myself in an abandoned hallway, I slide against the wall until I’m sitting on the cold linoleum floor. Staring at the lockers as I try to calm my breathing.

“Hey, hey, are you okay?” Charlie asks, crouching in front of me with a concerned expression on his face. “Wally’s shitting himself thinking he did something wrong. I told him to hang back while I spoke to you.”

I let the tears fall down my face as I stare up at Charlie, feeling guilty that I’ve potentially upset an innocent boy because of my own trauma. I can’t go back to the group, I know I can’t. It would be in the best interests of every other ghost if I do my best to simply avoid Wally. That way nobody gets hurt.

“I’m sorry Charlie. I can’t do it, I can’t go back to the group. I can’t see him in that fucking uniform. I just can’t, I’m sorry.” My sobs are uncontrollable and I feel bad even just for putting Charlie through this when he’s known me for all of two hours.

“It’s okay, you’re okay. Is it the uniform, we can get him to change I’m sure, I know it’s not the best look but it is all he had since he died in his shoulder pads and all.”

I can’t help but let out a small laugh, wiping the tears from my face with the sleeves of my jumper. Charlie offers me his hand to help me stand up which I take graciously. He places a hand on my shoulder as a sign of encouragement, along with a gentle smile.

“I mean it Charlie. I can’t go back to the group. I don’t want to relive the memories.”

—-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“She’s adamant she’s not coming back.” Charlie tells the group, all of them awaiting the answers he has for them as to why the new girl ran away. “I don’t think it’s anything personal Wally but she said she can’t see you in that uniform and I think she may have had something happen regarding the football players. I don't wanna speculate though.”

“So, what? Her footballer boyfriend cheated on her and now she can’t look at poor, innocent Wally because it reminds her of him?” Rhonda asks, unimpressed by the lack of answers Charlie has.

“No, I think it’s something more than that. Something deeper. I’m sure she’ll tell us when she’s ready but for now, I would stop wearing the uniform Wally.”

The footballer didn’t need to be told twice, he instantly pulls the shirt over his head leaving him in only a tight, white tank top. Charlie smiles in appreciation, while Rhonda scoffs slightly upon seeing his muscular arms.

“Okay, so I’ve ditched the uniform, should I apologize or what?” Wally asks, looking at the group to gauge their reactions.

“Maybe now isn’t a good time Wally.” Mr Martin states, trying to think rationally. “I’d give it a day or so.”

“Or maybe just leave her alone for a while. Let her come out of her shell a bit first.” Charlie interjects.

“Yeah, let's not hurt cherry pop’s feelings.” Rhonda replies sarcastically, staring directly at Charlie.

As the rest of the group session continues, Wally stays silent, playing with the football uniform in his hands as he attempts to figure out different ways to apologize. To help her feel more at home in her new life, and potentially help her overcome the trauma of her death. Despite not managing to come up with a good idea, he does decide one thing. He will do whatever it takes to make her feel safe and become her friend.

[wordsinhaled]

payneland neighbors AU

(a.k.a. one of my million WIPs that may actually be seeing the light of day)

edwin is an Alive Boy, who has had a near-death experience being bullied while he was at school, so he can now see ghosts.

charles is a Dead Boy, who is starting a detective agency out of his new flat, which happens to be next door to edwin's.

edwin does not realize charles is a ghost at first.

they are mutually down bad and trying hard (and failing) to be normal about it.

pining and shenanigans ensue.

should be able to get this posted to Ao3 sometime later today as chapter 1/? of who knows how many because apparently payneland has made me that person with multiple multichapter WIPs, lmao ~*~*~

Edwin does not think about his new neighbor across the hall.

(Said new neighbor's name, it will turn out, is Charles.

And Edwin most certainly does not fixate on the compelling glint of Charles' single earring in the sun, or the curve of his smile so easily offered.)

The story of it is this: Edwin had held the door to their building for him one fine spring day. Simple politeness, and moreover basic human decency, both dictated this was the proper thing to do for someone carrying such an absurd quantity of unwieldy parcels.

He had not expected the stranger to look so taken aback.

(He had an honest-to-goodness crystal ball propped precariously atop a stack of antique-looking books; and those teetered on top of several cardboard boxes near buckling under the weight of whatever they held within. A cricket bat protruded from the pin-encrusted rucksack slung over his shoulder. People did insist on having such incongruous pastimes, Edwin thought; and, apparently, atrocious packing habits to go along with them.

But the titles of the volumes Edwin managed to glimpse were as intriguing as the crystal ball was misguided—and he'd found himself rather helplessly curious.

"Cheers, mate!" the person he will soon know to be Charles had said, sounding obscenely grateful as he manouevred his way inside, and had flashed Edwin a grin so radiant and wide it hurt Edwin's cheeks in sympathy just to look at it.

Still, Edwin tried to think no more on him; nor on how surprised he'd appeared to be at Edwin's tiny show of kindness—at Edwin's perceiving him at all, even. Tried being the operative word.)

He'd been aware Jenny was letting the rooms across the hall, because she asked him several weeks ago if he might know any potential tenants. Edwin had informed her he did not. His last neighbor had listened to ungraciously-loud electropop at all hours of the night and harbored a seemingly endless stream of stray cats despite Jenny's very clear policy against animals.

Edwin would far prefer the space to stay blessedly vacant and blissfully quiet for as long a stretch as possible. He deserved some sort of a reprieve, he'd thought.

it seems he is not about to get one.

Edwin is reading when he hears a muffled string of colorful swearing, the lugging of things, the scraping of furniture across hardwood floors. While he may be able to studiously avoid thinking about the beautiful boy he'd met downstairs, Edwin cannot escape the inevitable and inconvenient fact that they will now be living in proximity. The telltale commotion that can only be made by someone moving in comes right to his proverbial stoop.

Who else could it be but him?

Edwin sighs. The only thing for it, he supposes, is to go over and introduce himself.

[wires-and-hellfires]

Alastor & child! reader headcanons: First Meeting

Pairing: Alastor & child! reader

Description: Alastor finds a young child wandering around hell and wonders why they were sent here - he quickly finds out.

Warnings: Mentions of child abuse, graphic violence, straight-up murder, manipulation, Alastor as a warning in itself

Author note: First time writing for Hazbin Hotel! Might expand on this, gimme your thought, also this was written at 3am so be gentle with me please-

Your life before hell wasn't... ideal

Always taught to be quiet, to stay out of the way, to stick to the shadows, to be a good child

Trained how to make the adults around you happy, when to say sorry even if you did no wrong, when to cower, when to run

So when you finally snapped and exterminated the vermin that was your parents and every one of their disgusting "coworkers"-

Well, you weren't apologizing for that one, even if your actions led to your own death at the young age of 8

It was almost fitting that upon your arrival to hell, you quickly realized that the shadows bent to your will and people around you seemed inclined to do what you wanted if you just... asked nicely enough

The skills of manipulation and a quick escape never grew out of style, apparently

Upon learning of the exterminations that take place in hell, the irony of being sent there over some pest control of your own did not escape you

After the newest extermination was a good time for you!

You danced in and out of the long shadows on the walls cast by the VoxTech tv's and pickpocketed what you could from his dazed victims

Suddenly stumbling over a curb, you knocked into one of the sinners gathered outside of the store, gaining a snarl from him as he grabbed your arm

With a quick whisper of "Please let me go, you never saw me" his grip slackened and released, eyes dull as he turned back to the screen

You didn't see the famed "radio demon" across the road exiting the tailor, but he saw you

A young sinner taking advantage of the vulnerable? Why it warmed his heart

And when you disappeared into the shadows? Well wasn't that curious...

After his broadcast, he himself slipped into the darkness, letting them guide him to your location

After all, he could recognize what shadows felt like when they were manipulated.

And what a show he walked into!

One man sat slumped against the alley wall, neck bent forward at an unnatural angle

Another lay on the ground, seemingly still alive (for now-), blood pooling out of the gaping hole in his stomach

The last of the group was on all fours, gasping out apologies through bloody lips to a small figure standing over him

The child leaned forward and grinned at the sinner in front of them

"Why don't you try begging a bit more and maybe I'll forgive you? Go on, say sorry again."

Alastor felt his smile slip into something a bit more maniacally pleased

Why, weren't you such a delightful surprise?

The demon before you managed to plead for a total of 15 seconds before you let out a disappointed sigh and a shadow surged forward, severing his head from the rest of his body

"Well, well, well! What a performance! Encore, encore!"

Wide eyes snapped to his as he strolled forward, and though you may not recognize his face after his little... absence, his broadcast earlier was heard clearly all around hell

Even in dark alleys where children lured bad men to their deaths

Before a word slipped from your lips, Alastor held out his palm in a silencing gesture

"Now, now, no need to be afraid, little one! I was just seeking some entertainment for the night! And what a show it was, truly! Bravo!"

And, well, when was the last time someone told you did a good job?

Maybe that's why you didn't even try to talk your way out of the situation.

Or perhaps it was the pounding of your heart, the rhythm of a predator sizing up another creature and weighing their chances against them

Frankly, you weren't confident there was a way out of this situation other than doing whatever it was the radio demon wanted

"Oh my, where are my manners? Alastor, dear, the name is Alastor! You may recognize me from my radio show?"

Despite the blood coating you, he held out his hand to shake

Hesitantly, you grasp it with your own, giving the demon your name

"Lovely, just lovely! Say, what do you think of allowing me the absolute pleasure of a late-night stroll through cannibal town? We could discuss your future aspirations and perhaps even come to a... deal of sorts!"

At the expression on your face, Alastor out a bark of staticky laughter

"Oh no, no, not for your soul, child! Though I would just love ownership of such a thing, I understand that you may feel a tad hesitant! Let me explain and then decide, hmm?"

You stare at him and his unyielding grin

You learnt all the truths your parents shoved down your throat before until you sent them down to hell

Perhaps now you could learn even more valuable lessons from Alastor

You nod at the overlord before you and his grin somehow stretches further

"Fabulous! Come along now!"

Following the radio demon out of the blood-stained alleyway, the shadows thrash against the walls in approval as you feel a smile of your own begin to form

[clarisse0o]

Camp Wiegman-Part 72

Lucy Bronze x Ona Batlle

Alternative Universe: Military School

Words: 5K

Masterlist

———————————————————————

Monday, March 21; 6:30 AM - Dormitory

The atmosphere on this Monday morning is very heavy. It isn't Lucy who came to do the daily check. It seems that information about last night's incident has been escalated higher than expected. It’s crazy how a minor altercation could have such wide-reaching consequences. When I asked Ingrid about it, she said it was beyond her control. Wiegman was apparently notified last night by students who complained, and it seems this has landed Alba in serious trouble. It looks like she’ll be stuck with Lucy all day. I find it excessive, but according to Ingrid, Wiegman wanted to impose a severe punishment on someone who is in their final year. I hadn’t noticed before, but it seems several people witnessed the dispute from behind their windows. Alexia is furious to learn we’ve been spied on like this. Fortunately, nothing serious was revealed. It’s safe to say there’s no point in discussing it with Ale this morning. I didn’t try to stop her when she stormed out of the room this morning. I did make sure to thank Ingrid for the information before we went our separate ways. I was about to join my roommate at that moment, but Misa intercepted me as I was leaving.

"Hey."

"Hi."

She seems really uncomfortable. I think I know why she’s here. We might not get along, but we’re connected by our loved ones who have issues. We witnessed a conversation that should have stayed private. The difference between her and me is that I know the answers to her questions, and she must suspect as much. I abandon the idea of joining Ale to stay with Misa, who looks quite worried.

"People seem pretty excited this morning..." she comments.

I smile sadly. I can tell she’s trying to make small talk. She probably doesn’t know what’s going on. If I know, it’s because I have good relations with the instructors. I nervously run my hand through my hair. If I were in her place, I’d appreciate being informed, so I go ahead.

"Listen, I just learned that Alba’s in serious trouble because of her outburst last night. She’s going to be stuck with Bronze for the day."

"Really?" she asks, surprised. "Damn... How do you know?"

"Uh, Engen. She just informed Ale. She left angry. I was planning to join her."

I congratulate myself on coming up with such a realistic excuse. If we know, it’s only because we hang out with our instructor outside of here.

"This is ridiculous! This situation is going too far!"

"I agree."

"Bronze did this?"

"No, Wiegman was informed. She’s just following orders, I suppose..."

"You seem close with her. Can’t you talk to her?"

"I’d like to, but when the orders don’t come from her, there’s not much she can do."

She bites her lip and shakes her head. She looks distressed. I hope they haven’t planned anything for the weekend because Alba is likely to be stuck here because of this situation.

"Thanks... You’re nicer than I expected."

"Uh, thanks, I guess."

We laugh together. In reality, I’ve never quite known what to make of her. She’s intriguing. She’s always been cold from the start. I was surprised that Alba was dating her, but then again, she must be nicer than we all imagine.

"We didn’t start off well; I’m sorry. I was afraid you might be interested in Alba someday. She’s always shown interest in you since you arrived, whereas I’ve had my eye on her for a long time," she admits.

I smile at her honesty. I suspected her behavior was related to Alba. She used to give me dagger looks every time she saw us laughing together.

"You don’t have to apologize; I understand. She made advances, but I turned her down right from the start. I’m in a situation I’m happy with my girlfriend, and I have no intention of looking elsewhere. So you can be at ease."

She nods again. I can tell she’s holding back questions.

"Go on, it’s my day of charity, so ask me the questions that are bothering you."

"Oh no—"

"Yes, I insist," I giggle. "Take advantage of it, it doesn’t happen every day."

"No, I was just thinking that you’re close with Ale. Alba really values your friendship. She thought Alexia was very lonely before you came."

"That’s true. We’ve become very close."

"She must confide in you a lot."

I smile, understanding where she’s going with this.

"Yes. I know everything that’s going on, but it’s not my place to say."

"Do you know her girlfriend?"

"Yes. I’ve seen her before. She’s from Manchester."

"Yes, Alba knows that, but she doesn’t know who knows, and I think that’s what’s bothering her. She realizes it’s serious and she doesn’t know if the girl is decent."

"She’s good for her, I can assure you. She’s the love of her life. If Alexia doesn’t reveal her identity, it’s because she’s afraid Alba won’t accept her. It would be a disaster for her; she’s only known her sister as family before her girlfriend and me."

"I see..."

"Well, you know what? Try to pass on this message to her before tonight so she can calm down. As for me, I’ll go see Bronze to see if I can change her mind about the confrontation tonight."

"I don’t think you’ll manage. They almost fought last night because of Alba. She’s out of control when she’s angry, and I doubt Bronze will let this discussion go on without a mediator."

"You think?"

"Definitely. Negotiate our presence at the meeting instead. Maybe our presence will reassure them."

She’s probably right. Lucy won’t risk leaving them alone after last night. I’ll need to persuade her not to repeat anything to Jenni then.

"Okay," I sigh. "We’ll go with that."

"Cool... Thanks for your help."

"You don’t have to thank me. I’m doing it for Alexia. But it was nice talking to you."

She gives me a shy smile in response. I think I might have at least managed to bury the hatchet with this conversation, so that’s a win.

"If you want to know, I was a bit annoyed that you managed to be so well-connected in such a short time. You hadn’t done anything to make friends, yet you were the center of everyone’s attention when you arrived. I never figured out how you did it," she laughs.

"It’s thanks to Ale that I got into the group. That’s why I owe her so much. As for the attention from other students, I could have done without it, you know," I giggle.

"Not surprising," she laughs. "It must have been really overwhelming."

"Yeah, but it’s all over now, and that’s a relief."

"People eventually get used to everything," she finishes with a shrug.

I nod and open the door to the cafeteria.

"Want to eat with us?" I offer.

"I’d love to, thanks."

"Just don’t expect a good atmosphere. I’ve never seen Ale in such a foul mood."

She laughs, saying she wouldn’t expect anything different given the situation. I really hope everything gets resolved quickly.

Monday, March 21; 1:45 PM - Classroom Building

I make my way through the students heading to their classes as I head to Lucy’s office. I haven’t had the chance to see or speak with her yet. However, just seeing her from afar with a tense expression and Alba slumped on the table at noon makes it clear that their morning wasn’t the most glorious.

-   Bronze,   I call out as she’s about to close the door to her office.

I see her frown before spotting me in the crowd. She relaxes and lets me in before shutting the door. Before I can say a word, I find myself pressed against the door with her lips on mine. I cling to her hair, but it’s quickly interrupted by a throat clearing. I blush seeing Ingrid in the room, but Lucy doesn’t seem bothered, sighing into my neck. Her friend watches us with a small amused smile while I am mortified. I don’t particularly enjoy public displays, but I endure it knowing Lucy needs affection right now. I don’t even dare to ask the question I came for, fearing it might upset her.

-   Can we just go back to the weekend?   she murmurs.

I laugh, running my hand through her hair and kissing her temple.

-   I’d like that too.  

-   Tell me you’re here to explain all this nonsense. Alba didn’t want to tell me anything, no matter how much I tried to break her this morning.  

I raise an eyebrow. I expected her to figure it out herself.

-   What?  

-   I thought you’d understand. Alba was worried because we came back just before the scheduled time. Since it had never happened before, she thought she was never coming back. She knows Ale is seeing someone, but she doesn’t know who it is.  

-   Oh... Is this all because she doesn’t know about Jenni? It’s absurd.  

-   Well, I’d be annoyed too if Joan didn’t tell me who he’s seeing. Can you imagine the worry she must have if she hadn’t come back?  

She sighs and steps back. I understand she might not get it since she doesn’t have siblings, but I do.

-   And so what? I’m not going to force Alexia to reveal Jenni’s identity.  

-   I spoke with Misa this morning,   I say, raising her eyebrow.   We’d like to be present tonight. At least we can help ease the atmosphere. I can’t see Alexia until tonight, so I won’t have time to talk to her before then.  

-   Okay,   she sighs.   Let’s do that. Now I’ll walk you to class,   she says, checking her watch.   You’re late after all.  

-   It’s not a big deal.  

-   It will be if he doesn’t accept you. You won’t get your weekend if Wiegman is in a bad mood.  

-   I have Johnson. I’ll just use your charm and we’ll be set.  

I give her a wink that makes her roll her eyes with a small smile. She kisses me one last time and waves goodbye to Ingrid. We head towards my classroom. This day feels endless; I can’t wait for it to be over.

  Monday, March 21; 5:15 PM - Lucy’s Office  

I’m slouched in a chair in front of Lucy’s desk, waiting for the others to arrive. Misa was the first to come. She chose the chair next to mine to keep the Putellas siblings as far away as possible, just in case. I managed to catch her between classes to tell her to come here after school. Ingrid isn’t here, but I’m not surprised. She never involves herself in problems that don’t concern her unless she has to. Lucy sips her coffee while observing us. Misa, who’s in class with Alba and Ale, let us know she was the first to leave the locker rooms after their sports session. She didn’t want to wait for them because she suspects they’re taking their time.

-   If this keeps up, I’m going to go get them,   my girlfriend says, annoyed.

Just then, there’s a knock on the door. Alexia is the first to enter, closely followed by her brother. You can feel the palpable tension radiating from them. When Ale sees me, she looks surprised at first but then relieved. She immediately sits down next to me.

-   Sorry for the delay,   she says to my girlfriend.

-   No problem. We’re just waiting for you, Alba. I don’t have all day.  

Alba clenches her fists and takes the last available seat next to Misa. No one knows how this conversation will end, but Lucy is the one who takes charge, opening the proceedings.

-   Well. We’re finally gathered after a fifteen-minute wait,   she says with a disconcerting calm.   Don’t think I’m thrilled to be here for such a ridiculous matter. What happened yesterday is unacceptable. Private matters should not be exposed like they were yesterday. I won’t force anyone to talk, but if you need to, now is the time. Misa and Ona insisted on being here to support you. We’ll act as mediators if needed. It’s not something that’s offered to you every day.  

Her opening statement leads to silence. For a long time, no one dares to speak. Alexia focuses intently on her nails while her sister turns her head away from us. I exchange a look with Misa that says a lot about our thoughts.

-   I don’t understand why you don’t just say who it is,   Alba says very calmly.

Lucy, who has been watching us, leans back in her seat, crossing her arms while making sure to keep her coffee in hand. She’s understood that she’s just started the discussion.

-   Because you always act excessively when it comes to my relationships. I’ve never been able to have a decent friend. Either they ran away because you were too protective, or you made me lose them by making us change schools.  

-   Oh, and you think I enjoyed doing that? You have a talent for always picking the wrong people! Most of them weren’t even worth associating with.  

-   Excuse me, but I wouldn’t have appreciated someone choosing my friends for me either,  I interject.

-   You have nothing to say,   she snaps at me.   You don’t know what kind of mess we were in. And besides, you’re not exactly good at choosing your friends either!  

Lucy sits up at these words. I knew she would defend me, but I didn’t need her to do it.

-   You don’t know anything about my life either! Who do you think you are to judge everyone around you? It’s honorable to want to protect your sister from the world, but we live in a world where suffering is not an option. We all go through tough times, but that doesn’t mean everyone else has to suffer too! Yes, I had a painful past, yes, I struggled to overcome it, but I did it! Alexia is challenging you to show that she’s finally ready to live without you in her life, and you’re having a hard time accepting it, that’s all! You’ll have to face the fact that she’s not the little girl you used to defend at all costs!  

My retort surprises her enough to silence her completely. When I catch Lucy’s eye, I notice her smile. I feel proud of myself for managing to say this without stuttering. I’m no longer that defenseless girl who arrived here at the beginning of the year. I’m finally starting to regain my confidence.

-  Ona is right, Ale murmurs.   You’re my sister, and I understand your intentions, but you’re really being a pain. I’ve never regretted following you here, but you really need to stop covering for me. I can make my own decisions now.  

-   I’m sorry you feel that way, she sighs.

She stands up, turning his back on us. Our words seem to have affected her more than she wanted. After a moment of reflection, she turns back around.

-   Are you afraid I’ll judge your girlfriend? Does she even exist?  

-   Of course she exists. If I’m not telling you who she is, it’s because I fear your reaction.  

-   If you say that, then I must know her. Are you back with Laia?  

-   Eww, no!  

I laugh at the image. It’s true; she did date her. I almost forgot how she no longer hangs out with us much. Ale sighs, casting a glance my way. She’s trying to figure out what to do, but it’s not up to me to decide. So, I shrug.

-   You know her too, Ona?   she suddenly realizes.

-   Well, yes. I thought I had already mentioned that we spend our weekends together lately.  

-   With your girlfriend, I assume, she murmurs, staring at my neck.

I turn around, burying my head in my hands. Lucy seems to find this scene amusing, even though it’s all her fault. She seriously needs to calm her bloodlust in the future.

-   Anyway, she grumbles.   If I promise to accept her, would you be willing to introduce her to me? We could have a man-to-man conversation that way.  

I roll my eyes. Alexia sighs and, against all odds, surprises everyone by conceding.

-   Her name is Jenni. Jenni Hermoso  

I turn to see Alba’s reaction. She doesn’t seem to recognize the name at first. I then remember she doesn’t know the names. There’s a spark in her eyes as she makes the connection.

-   Hermoso ? Instructor Hermoso ?  

-   You promised not to get angry,   I remind her.

She takes a deep breath, pinching the bridge of her nose. Everything must have clicked into place in her mind.

-  You were the student who had a relationship with her? Are you kidding me? You let Luna get expelled in your place!? 

-  It was her idea,  Alexia defends herself.  She wanted to leave here. 

Seeing that she was starting to lose her composure despite her promise not to get angry, I glance at Misa to signal her. It’s her moment to act. She understands the message and stands up.

-  Remember what I told you this afternoon,  Misa says.

-  How can I believe that she’s a good match for her!? She’s much older than she is! 

-  Not that much, Lucy replies. Only six years. 

We all turn to Lucy. Her expression is cold. It’s clear she will defend her best friend at all costs. Alba turns pale, but the reasons are different from what I expected.

-  A-are you going to tell Wiegman? Alexia will be expelled if you do! 

That’s true; I hadn’t considered that option. She doesn’t know that Lucy is my girlfriend.

-  No,  she says.  The matter is closed, and I have no intention of jeopardizing a student’s future at this point in the year. 

She nods with relief. We exchange a small, discreet smile. Living our relationship in front of my loved ones is getting increasingly difficult.

-  I want to meet her. 

-  I’m not sure that’s a good idea,  Ale comments.

-  Why not? You want me to accept her, don’t you? So, I want to meet her. I want to make sure she takes care of you. 

Alexia looks at me with concern. It’s a good idea. I would have suggested that we accompany her for this encounter, but Lucy would never agree. Too many people already know about us, and we can’t risk putting ourselves in more danger. One wrong conversation and everything could be ruined. I still nod gently to confirm that she should agree. She bites her lip and turns to her sister.

-  Okay. But I’m warning you, you better not threaten her or anything. I really care about her, so you better not mess things up. We both know how you can lose your temper over nothing. 

-  Yeah, yeah, I’ll try to stay calm,  she mutters.

-  Well, I think that’s settled then. 

-  Yes. Thank you, Ale replies.

-  It’s my job. Now, you all better get out of here. I have other work waiting for me. 

-  Can I stay? For my homework. 

-  If you want, but I won’t have time to help you with your revisions tonight. 

-  That’s okay. I was told to slow down, so I’m not sure I’ll be studying tonight. 

-  I don’t know who told you that, but it’s very good advice. 

I laugh as I get up. The others follow suit and put the two extra chairs back in front of Ingrid’s desk. I tell them I’ll join them once I’m finished here. Unlike me, they are very eager to leave.

-  If you could avoid getting into fights before then, I’d appreciate it. 

-  We’ll try,  Alexia replies with amusement.  Have a good evening. 

-  Good evening to you too. 

They leave, leaving the door open. I would have preferred them to close it, but it’s not a big deal. Lucy is already engrossed in her computer, so I take out my things.

-  That went pretty well, didn’t it?  Lucy asks.

-  Yes, it did. I think it’ll be fine now. 

-  Hmm. Alexia realizes we won’t be there for the meeting between the two buddy, right? 

I laugh and nod.

-  I think she suspects as much, but I’ll remind her. 

-  Good. What a shitty day. You better not make a mistake this week. I don’t want to end up spending my weekend here as well. 

-  I’ll try to be on my best behavior,  I tease her.

-  It’s not funny. I have a meeting with Wiegman on Friday. I’m going to give her my resignation letter. 

-  Oh, really? 

I didn’t even know she had written it. Anyway, she must have prepared it during the day.

-  Aren’t you happy?  she smiles.  It feels like the end is near. 

-  It’s not that I’m not happy, it’s just that it adds more pressure,  I giggle.

She rolls her eyes with amusement. I’ve never had the blues about an exam. Even my high school diploma seemed less important compared to now.

-  It’ll be fine, don’t worry. You’re really putting too much pressure on yourself for nothing. 

-  Hmm. 

-  Finish your homework and then go join your friends. It’ll do you good. Alexia is probably looking forward to talking to you. 

I nod and get to work. She’s right. I could tell she hoped I would follow her advice.

-  Thank you. I don’t know what I’d do without you,  I say, making her laugh.

-  I don’t know either. I often wonder that myself,  she teases.

-  Oh, and by the way. You’re not planning to talk about what happened with Jenni, are you? 

-  I would have if it hadn’t ended so well. We’ll see how things turn out now. One thing’s for sure, it’s their problem, not ours. 

I bite my lip at her response. She’s right, but that doesn’t stop me from worrying about my friend. I hope everything will turn out okay for her. I really don’t want to have to pick up the pieces.

[avonne-writes]

Night Shadows

Again, I don't know what's up with me, I was suddenly inspired... This is in the same verse as this drabble - Gale has severe PTSD after the war.

The thin summer blanket falls over Bucky's frame like a veil, in soft folds. He lies still in his and Gale's bed and imagines he’s one of those timeless marble sculptures that look like people frozen in motion, with their clothes still ruffled by the breeze. A part of him longs for that oblivion, but a prickling awareness pulls him further away from sleep. The space on his left, where warmth and peace should press up against him, is as cold as the stone in Bucky's fading dream.

He cracks his eyes open to the shroud of the night and traces the silhouettes drawn by the pale moonlight that slips in through the curtains. Nothing lives and breathes around him, nothing moves. It’s only empty space.

Half-asleep, fear is a shock, a bucket of cold water after a bad evening spent drinking. He wrestles his marble bindings off and slips out of bed. His bare feet pad on thick carpet, then cool floor. His elbow brushes a doorframe a touch too hard, and the scrape of it draws a hiss, but nothing whispers back in the dead silence.

"Buck?" He calls out in that low, groggy voice that always gets him a fond smile in the morning. "You okay?"

There's no reply, but the living room gapes danger with its dark and empty space, and Bucky's heart kicks up its frantic beats. He looks around, squints, reaches for the lightswitch, but then he spots it - a pair of feet behind the couch.

He runs before the flood of dread could even materialize as a thought - he doesn’t think that Gale could be hurt or dead, he feels it. In his rush, he knocks into the coffee table that Gale apparently moved into the way, but he ignores the blooming pain and throws himself right down on the floor to grab the body lying lifeless in cold, wet liquid.

"Gale!" He exclaims. His fear drums so loud in his ears that he barely hears the gasp of surprise he draws, but the scrambling hands he does feel, as they scratch and grip at his shoulders in blind, animal panic.

"It's me. It’s me." He shifts his hold from Gale’s arms to his wrists and holds them away from the wounded skin of his neck until Gale calms and goes limp.

"Jesus Christ." Bucky breathes out in tired relief and pulls those hands to his chest, keeps them pressed there with his left while he cups Gale’s cheek with his right. "You scared me."

When Gale doesn’t reply, Bucky's heart clenches in a different kind of worry - the gentle, bittersweet kind that creeps around your heart like an embrace. It’s the worry of familiarity, the pain that comes from knowing what's coming and yet being powerless to do anything but watch how much damage the crash of a wave does against the shore.

"Don’t do this to me, doll. Not again." The plea slips out of his mouth quietly. It feels like defeat.

Gale doesn’t hear it.

"They’re out there." He whispers. His voice never sounded like this during the war, not even when they were on that train of death or when they plotted their escape - this voice knows neither reason, nor reality. "They’re coming."

Bucky shifts his grip on Gale’s hands, holding them both between his chest and his palm, and slides the other hand down Gale’s body to feel around for injuries. Wetness seeps into his pajamas from the puddle he’s kneeling in. It's dripping from Gale’s body, but it's not blood. Thank God, thank every saint for that. It’s ice cold water, and Gale is sopping wet with it.

"No one's coming." Bucky tries to soothe Gale. He wishes he spared that fraction of a second he would have needed to turn on the lights, because in the darkness, he can’t see Gale’s expression, just the white flash of his gaze sometimes as he stares at Bucky in wide-eyed horror.

"Shhh." Gale shushes him. "Lie down or they'll notice you." Gale's breathing speeds up to an unnatural, panicked rhythm, then goes slow so suddenly that it gives Bucky whiplash.

"Must join them to make it. Must join them." He mutters under his breath. It doesn't sound like he knows he’s speaking.

Bucky knows what he's doing. He put it together from the fragments Gale gave him during his episodes - he's on the run from the march, lying in a ditch among the dead to avoid being noticed by the German troops passing through the forest. In his right mind, Gale barely told him anything but the plain facts of what happened. Filth and rotting corpses only a few feet away from the retreating men. I made it out, it doesn't matter, John, he said that one time Bucky brought it up. But if something wakes him up wrong at night, it’s either this moment he loses his sanity to, or the darkest days of their captivity.

Usually, Bucky tries to wake him from it. He has tried it gently and rougher too, but it's always a tough wall to break, and he’s tired. Too tired to be the voice of reality. What if it helps more to play along?

He keeps stroking Gale's face and neck but lies down next to him just like Gale urges him to in half-finished sentences. The cold water drenches him in discomfort, but he pays it no notice, only Gale's laboured breathing.

"Quick, quick." Gale says, voice shaking now, and he pulls his hands out of Bucky's grip to strip his wet shirt. He lays it on Bucky’s stomach, then goes still. "It rained, if you're dry, they’ll see it."

That explains it, Bucky thinks as they lie together on the floor. Safe in their home, but hiding from the demons in Gale's mind. Bucky wonders if Gale went to the bathroom to splash water on his face but ended up here instead. He wonders if he didn’t switch on the light because he didn’t want to wake Bucky and if that's what got him confused. It happened before. And yet, Gale continues to try being considerate.

It breaks Bucky's heart.

He waits a few seconds, counts to ten in his head, then opens his mouth to whisper, "I think they’re gone now."

With his hand gripping Bucky's, Gale stops breathing for a moment, as if listening for the sound of footsteps, but, of course, there's nothing. When Gale believes it too, his body relaxes, and he sits up. He pulls his knees up, puts his elbows on them, then buries his face in his hands.

Bucky discards the wet shirt and moves behind Gale to hug him. He wraps his arms around Gale’s shivering torso and closes his eyes against the memories it brings up, the cold and the stalag. He pulls Gale back into his chest. A long kiss to Gale’s bare shoulder, then a soothing path of them up, better than any feeble word he’d try to say. Words he did say in the past, grains of sand in the wind.

It's only when Gale goes boneless and tries to crumple forward that he knows it's over, and what he says would be heard.

"It's okay. You're okay." He kisses Gale's temple, willing them both to believe it. The seconds tick by like a quiet metronome. They fly past, into the horizon of minutes, but the night feels so vast that it's as if they're floating in nothing.

"This floor needed mopping anyway." Bucky says in a lighter tone once he thinks that Gale’s ready for it.

Gale bursts into tears.

As always, it’s devastating. Bucky had been through pain and loss and hell with him, and Gale never once shed a tear. But since they returned, like taking a tourniquet off a wounded vein, the missing pressure to stay strong left him torn open and bleeding. Nothing hurts more than not being able to make it better. Just hoping for time to heal what Bucky can’t.

"I'm sorry." Gale's voice is like a ghost passing through the house. It stabs Bucky all the same.

"Don’t worry about it, Buck. You know me. Not the first time I sat in a puddle, hoping to get someone into bed with me." He tightens his arms as he says it, rocking Gale, but he feels the tremors of silent crying continue to run through Gale's body. "I love you."

A sob escapes Gale before he could clamp down on it. He forces himself to go still when it passes, then drops his hands and sniffles. "Does that line tend to work?"

The smile on Bucky’s lips is bittersweet. "Dunno, doll, you tell me. Never used it before."

Gale breathes in deep, then lets it out. Little by little, his body starts to settle down again. The shaking ceases. "I may need to hear it again." He swallows against his remaining tears, then leans his head against Bucky's. "To make sure."

Bucky hums. "Let me try my luck in a hot bath. For the acoustics."

That finally earns him a small, wet laugh. "Sure, Bucky."

Germany's frozen forests are never farther away than in the steamy warmth of their bathroom, in each other's embrace.

[tranakin-skywalker]

The padawans found out about it first, as padawans are wont to do. Getting into trouble without realizing the full extent of it, stumbling right into something so much larger than they could understand. In any other scenario it would have been fodder for their masters to tease their apprentices over and -later- rib one another with. But not with something like this.

Jedi, as a whole, didn’t tend to concern themselves with things such as the holonet. When there was a crisis somewhere out in the galaxy, they were typically brought into the know before even the news outlets were told, their response being what led the rest of the Republic forward.

There were of course those who would tune in to certain channels to watch their favorite soap operas, or catch up on the goings on in the parts of the galaxy outside of the Jedi’s jurisdiction, but it was really the younger generation who had any sort of presence on the ‘net.

So really, it shouldn’t have come as any surprise when a crowd of junior padawans and older initiates had gone running in search of Master Nu during their recreational time in the archives (or the several dozen senior padawans with their own personal access to the holonet who’d screamed across their quarters for their masters to come and see). 

It did not take long for the news to reach the Council members, who immediately called an impromptu session to watch and review. There were many angry holocalls sent out inquiring why the Jedi hadn’t been informed of this development sooner, mostly by Adi Gallia. There were also many headaches developed, also by Adi Gallia who both dealt and received.

Mace Windu also had one such headache, brought on by watching the recording for the fifth time- or was it the sixth now?

The image was grainy, implying poor equipment, but the shot held remarkably steady throughout which spoke to some level of familiarity with filming. The grandiose excess of a Hutt residence decorated the space, covering over hard packed adobe walls and tiled floors covered in a thin layer of sand. It was apparent that this was no Nal Hutta, but the exile planet of Tatooine. This was the domain of Jabba Desilijic Tiure and- to a lesser extent- Gardulla Besadii the Elder. 

Or it used to be.

The holo paned slowly over the large interior of the palace, lingering on the forms of a number of sentients, many of them scantily dressed, some of them no more than children, all of them with heavy collars around their necks. Some looked healthy, deceptively so, but there are others- thin with protruding bones, or open gaping wounds leaking out bodily fluids, and those missing whole limbs. The first few minutes were nothing but the camera moving through the inside of the palace, taking in the misery and the horror, from up in the audience hall all the way down to slave quarters deep below the palace.

There were other figures too- those dressed in dark desert weave and wearing a wide collection of masks over their faces. Some of them had what looked suspiciously like lightsaber hilts hanging from their belts.

They worked to remove the chains from the slaves while a voice spoke over the recording in Huttese. Mace wasn’t much familiar with the language, only understood a handful of words spoken. They were still working on getting the poor audio translated, but from what they were able to gather it was a rallying cry for other enslaved worlds to fight back.

The holo lingered a long moment on an opened metal collar, dried blood and bits of flesh stuck to the inside where it had rubbed skin raw. Then it cut suddenly, the screen black for a fraction of a second before suddenly illuminated with the blinding light of two suns.

The new perspective showed a town center of some sort, huge crowds of people gathered in streets and on the roofs of buildings, the camera panning down to capture the thousands of faces looking up toward the platform.

A slave auction block, they found out later.

The camera turned from the crowd to instead film the group standing atop the platform. There were more figures in black and brown, but unlike when they were within the palace, these had brightly colored cloth thrown over the rest of their attire, ponchos and scarves and wraps. Mace assumed there was some sort of cultural significance to it, but he didn’t know enough about the planet’s people to know for certain.

These, too, wore metal masks.

Beneath the desert suns it was easier to make out that most were fashioned into abstract animal faces, with fangs and horns and sweeping pieces that might have been feathers. All of them carried metal cylinders at their hips.

In the middle of the platform, surrounded by more masked guards with lit sabers in hand- colors a wash of oranges and yellows and greens and even one that looked pink- was Jabba the Hutt. Large gashes and lesions covered the expanse of his body, a heavy chain wrapped several times around his neck. It didn’t seem to be connected to anything- seemingly more of a humiliation rather than something to keep the Hutt confined.

The lightsabers pointed at him likely did well enough a job of that.

Standing between Jabba and the crowd was a lone figure in all black. If they were sweltering in the heat, they gave no indication of it, their long layers and heavy helmet seemingly inconsequential. It was a tall figure, humanoid and seemingly male in stature- though that was hard to tell beneath the dark clothing that seemed almost a parody of Jedi robes. The helmet they wore was dog-like, or at least that of a canine skull, with jaws that looked less like jaws and more like a muzzle. There was something altogether disquieting about the figure.

Tilting its head like a curious predator, the figure turned to look the camera lens dead on. It didn’t feel like someone looking into a camera, but like something looking straight through and into the view beyond.

Each time Mace had watched the recording, that single look managed to make hair prickle up on the back of his neck. An animal response.

The figure in black spoke in Basic, addressing the holo’s audience and not the crowd actually present. The voice that came out was distorted through a vocoder into something that was more hard and mechanical than organic, it was still distinctly male, and distinctly authoritative. The rest of the video would prove that this was likely the leader of the whole affair, but even in the opening minutes, it was easy to tell here stood the catalyst for all that would crumble down after.

“You say that slavery is illegal in your Republic,” the voice growled from behind the melted teeth of the dog’s jaw. “And you say that Tatooine is part of your Republic. Then what is this we stand on? What is it that the Hutt empire has made its fortunes off of? What your own halls hide and Senators pedal behind closed doors. Look at what you have turned your blind eyes away from.”

With a gloved hand, he reached to his belt and unclipped a black and gray hilt. “We will not let you look away.” He then turned to the crowd and raised the saber hilt high over his head, calling out something in a language that sounded nothing like Huttese. The crowd thundered back in unison.

The saber lit with a wash of red as violent as a wildfire.

Lowering his arm slowly, the man turned to finally face Jabba, his blade hungry and crackling at his side. He spoke again- softer this time- but still loud enough for the gathered populace to hear. Huttese again, Mace was pretty certain, something about punishment- or maybe it was justice.

For a split second on Jabba’s face there was a look of pure unfiltered terror- the sudden fear in falling with the knowledge that the ground was coming and coming up fast. 

Then that hungry blade slid easily into thick Hutt skin that couldn’t be cut by any other means, sinking into the hilt, fat bubbling and cooking with the heat of it.

Jabba made a noise that Mace never, ever wanted to hear again.

The man dragged the blade down- slowly- guts spilling out from where the Hutt was being unzipped like a field-dressed carcass, still wriggling. Jabba moved a lot less than someone being methodically disemboweled should, but that might have something to do with the dog-skulled man’s left hand being raised up like an open claw. Like he was pinning the crime lord in place with sheer will or- more concerningly- with the Force.

That obsidian black mask seemed to give a jackal grin as the red blade was pulled from the Hutt’s body and Jabba Desilijic Tiure was unceremoniously dropped to slowly die on the same platform where thousands of people had been bought and sold.

Stepping away from the smoking body, the Sith- for what else could this monster be but a Sith?- flicked his blade to the side as if trying to rid it of gore. A useless endeavor for a plasma blade, but there was something almost poignant about the move.

He stood facing the screaming, cheering crowd, but his head was tilted sideways just slight enough to look back at the camera from the inky black socket of the dog’s eye.

“You’ve spent long enough ignoring us. I suggest you start paying attention now.”

The feed cut to black.

[sleepyfan-blog]

Breakfast

Author's note: this is the next part of Mer-Joth's journey in the Celestial Seas AU. First. Previous. Celestial Seas Masterlist.

tagged: @egrets-not-regrets @kit-williams @bleedingichorhearts @i-am-a-dragon34

warnings: none, please ask me to tag something if it bothers you/I missed something

Summary: You and mer-Joth wake up, and he makes you breakfast

You awake to a recently familiar and deeply comforting sound. It was a deep, bassy sound that was sometimes almost sub-vocal for you. It was accompanied by a pleasant rumble that buzzed through your bones. A small smile appears on your face as you yawn and stretch. You then open your eyes and try to roll over to kiss your very large “pillow”. 

You get a warning chuff and a gentle “stay still. I am braiding your hair.” From the mer-Astartes you’d pondered to several months ago. Joth had been quite the surprise, but he had settled fairly comfortably into your life, as far as you could tell.

You smile and murmur”Alright then. I did want to give you a good morning kiss, but if you-”

Joth leaned around you, pouting a little, his distinctive facial scars highlighted by the early morning light “Kiss please!” He asked, hopeful.

A grin appears on your ace as you happily kiss him on the lips, as requested. You nuzzle comfortably into him, after. You’re curious what the braids he is weaving your hair into will look like, but you’re also content to let him braid at his own pace. You try to encourage him when he tries new things, as the large, armored mer was surprisingly tentative when it came to learning new skills. 

Not much was known for certain about the different kindes of Mer-Astartes that had randomly started to appear within the seas and skies of Earth, starting roughly a hundred years ago or so, near as none could tell. Most magical beings tended to be wary of Humanity, preferring to hide away in difficult to nearly impossible places for humans to reach them. Not so for Mer-Astartes, who while some individuals were hostile or wary, many were curious and open to interacting with both humans and the native supernatural species who lived upon Earth.

You were glad that the large farm that had been handed down from family member to family member that was current in your care was far enough from most major cities and surrounded by deep forest. Your nearest neighbor was well  over five miles away, which suited you just fine. The last thing you wanted was a bunch of gawking curious people staring at Joth as the large mer went about his day.  You weren’t sure that he would tolerate that very well.. And while he’d gotten better over the past couple of months, his initial startle response tended to be violence, or a terrifying threat display. 

There was a wild river that cut through the northern edge of your property that was apparently both wide and deep enough for Joth to be happy to swim in regularly. He also liked hunting a great deal - and you’d been sure to get him the proper fishing and hunting licenses that the local government insisted were necessary for him, not wanting Joth to possibly get into trouble with the law.. Joth always brought back his kills to show to you, pleased by them and eager to share with you. You’d showed him how to clean the kills of the animals he’d hunted once each and the mer had happily taken to doing so. He’d started learning how to cook for you as well, determined to be a good provider.

You found it very sweet, though kind of unnecessary - you’d been entirely self-sufficient most of your adult life, and learned what you didn’t know as you came across it in one way or another… But you could also tell that the desire to protect and provide for you was an instinct that was deeply woven not Joth, and… It was nice to have an extra set of hands around the farm, and another voice to talk to. 

“Finished, love. Thank you for staying still.” Joth murmured, a smile in his voice as he pressed a gentle kiss to first one side, then the other side of your neck affectionately. 

You smile in response, reaching up one hand to gently caress his jaw in reciprocal affection “thank you, Joth.” You yawn and stretch again before getting up, to start the day “Ready to help me feed the animals? Or would you rather nap or do something else?”

“I will make breakfast! Been practicing at base.” Joth answers with a hopeful grin. His command over your native language is getting better. It’s impressive how fast he’s learning.

You’ve been able to pick up some words and phrases in what you’re fairly sure is his native language. You’re also looking forward to breakfast. “Sure thing, love. Those omelets you made last week were great.” You’d been sure to stock up on astartes-grade food, keenly aware of how many calories a being as big as Joth had to eat in order to sustain himself.

Joth insisted that he could eat nearly anything, but you didn't want to test that. He’d sulked a little at your caution… Until he realized that it was because you were worried for him, rather than thinking he was weak or whatever it was that he’d falsely gotten into his head about it. 

The World Eater preened at your praises “Omelets will be part of breakfast. The rest is a surprise!” 

You nod, finishing getting dressed for the day and give him another kiss, this time on the cheek, as Joth is still laying in bed. “See you in a little bit. Have fun making breakfast!”

~

When you return to the dining room, Joth is carefully placing several plates and bowls in the middle of the table.

“Need a hand?” You ask. The food smells incredible and looks good from what you can see of the dishes.

“These are the last ones. Drink in pitch in the fridge. Please grab?” Joth answers, smiling warmly down at you, his dark eyes shining with determination and hope.

You nod and grab the pitcher - filled with freshly made apple juice from the color and scent of the contents. “Here we go. All of this looks and smells amazing, thank you, Joth.” You give him a kiss on the cheek as you walk over to the open seat, taking in the impressive breakfast spread, reaching for a thin and golden-brown stack of flatbread. 

Joth eagerly explains what each of the dishes and dips he had made for you to sample are - leaving out just where it was he had learned of them. S0me of the dips were sweet and spicy, others were tangy and cooling. The lightly fried vegetables were delightfully crunchy and the meat had been cooked perfectly. Some of the flat-breads were a little charred, but that was par for the course with flatbread. 

You give him earnest praise over everything he’s made, finding yourself in the large mer’s lap fairly quickly, giving him thankful kisses for the delicious foods.

[solarwynd]

No wonder Jungkook was addressing haters during his lives, and kept talking about his performances not being good enough, and was being so defensive over not writing his own songs while talking to Jimin on that AYS episode even though Jimin hadn't even said anything. It's all cause he apparently searches his name on Twitter. And armys and their denial aside, people were not talking nicely about him, specially not on Twitter. He probably thought he was gonna be endlessly praised for doing nothing the way he's used to, but I'm afraid reality was a little harsher than he thought. Wonder if there's gonna be some pity party scene in his documentary, but I imagine it's gonna be the opposite and the whole thing is just gonna be a huge jerk off section where everybody pretends he was universally loved and definitely not dragged online. He most certainly didn't have crowds not know his songs, or people on the street not recognized him while a paparazzi took videos (which happened very naturally, of course, just like the time he was caught smoking out in the open where anyone could see and take a picture). And there was absolutely no instances, let alone several, of media getting his name wrong. He's a giant pop star and everybody knows AND loves him. Maybe if he keeps hearing that from the very genuine people who are making money off him he'll start believing it.

As cocky (and a self proclaimed narcissist) as that man is, he’s very conscious about what people have to say about him. And I do believe that it’s a glaring side effect of people putting him on a pedestal for the entirety of his idol life. I’m not surprised that he searches his own name. Can’t call it self absorbed cause I’m sure a lot of idols do.

It’s probably a train wreck between the tkkrs and his solos. There’s probably more good than bad that he’s seen considering nobody en masse rarely has anything negative to say about him. (which is why one the one or two posts he’s responded to which were tame has me laughing cause he would not survive if he was in Jimin’s place.) I also doubt that they’re gonna pull something like showing him getting hate cause that’s the opposite effect of what they’re going for like you said. They’re most likely gonna hype him out his own ass. Though the title does lead me to believe that they could show the downside of his idol life and how he works through it. Typical “the star behind the fame.” who knows.

But JK definitely does believe that he’s a beloved giant popstar because well he is. Armys will always be a testament to that but on the grander world wide scale that the scooter and bang propaganda machine is trying to convince people of? That remains to be seen.

[eruanee]

Kiryuu Touga and the cyclical narrative

TW : Discussions of misogyny, emotional manipulation and abuse, sexual abuse and (sexual) child abuse. (Very vague) mention of incest.

First of all, not really as a disclaimer but more as a recommendation, a lot of my thoughts about Touga are shaped by this essay, which is definitely easily one of my favorite pieces of Utena meta. I think I'm going to implicitly or more explicitly reference it sometimes, but you don't need to read it to understand this post.

I have a complex relationship with Touga. He is despicable, yet the more I watch the series, the more I find myself... fascinated by him. This post is a pretty much a synthesis of all these thoughts.

On a purely narrative level, Touga's role is a bit special. He's the antagonist of the first arc. The three duels involving him are all turning points in the series. He's a core character in the development of several other characters (Saionji, Nanami, Utena and Miki on a different level).

Yet, turns out he's only a puppet, just as everyone else is. How surprising. And when it comes down to it, what do we know about Touga ?

He's the Student Council's president. He seemingly can't have a relationship with anyone without manipulating them to his advantage. He sleeps with any girl (and maybe not only girls) who breathe around him in a 1 ft radius. His way of coping with depression is to seal himself in a wide and totally empty room to listen to his own voice on repeat to ponder heavily on his broken hopes and ideals. (Hmm. Hardcore.)

And more importantly, he wants power. A power that would be absolute. But why so ?

And this is the point where it gets complicated.

Touga is barely the main topic of episodes focused on him. He is the center of many obsessions and interests, but it seems we never touch upon him as a person. He can be seen being vaguely vulnerable in eps 11 and 12 and then there's the whole Black Rose arc thing. But where does all this mess steam from ?

Victim status

Eps 35 and 36 are the one going deeper into Touga’s character and yet... we’re barely sure of what’s actually going on in his brain. These episodes always give me a weird feeling because we don’t really get to see Touga express his feelings very clearly or freely... We barely get to hear his thoughts. 

Just like Anthy.

Don’t make me say what I didn’t say, though. Touga gets to have way more agency than ever does Anthy, and he certainly doesn't endure the same dehumanization as she does. Anthy does have agency in a way. But she expresses it in hidden, implicit ways : playing tricks, hitting people in their sore spots, sarcasm, empty eyes and fake smiles. She’s manipulative and Touga is, too. These two share many similarities, though they can’t completely blend with each other, of course. 

We don’t know much about Touga’s childhood. We know he and Nanami were adopted (or “sold”) to the Kiryuu family at a young age. That’s basically it in the canon of the series. Though, Touga’s backstory in the movie, showing him being sexually abused by his adoptive father, was apparently meant to be included in the series as well :

Although the TV series touched upon Touga’s younger days, the film goes into more details – the wound of Touga that was never directly depicted. In his younger days, Touga was a normal kid who enjoyed happy times with his friend Saionji Kyouichi and his younger sister Nanami. However, he came to know his unfortunate fate from the time he was ordered by his parents to wear his hair long. His parents sold him to the Kiryuu family. Although he was an adopted son on the surface, the instinctive Touga knew what that meant. And in order to protect his younger sister, he accepted his lot. Being sold. We did not go into depicting what Touga’s parents obtained by going as far as selling their son. We would like you to think of it as a kind of metaphor. 

And Touga accepted in silence the sexual abuse from his new parents. His personality changed while he made a magnanimous show of enjoying the abuses in order to prevent his personality from splitting. The change took place in a spot so deep in his mind, that even those closest to him did not notice. Saionji and Nanami never noticed out of their innocence. And Touga never told his secret to anyone. It is said that a human being gains whatever he lost in exchange. So what did Touga gain in exchange at that point in time? It was the sense of alienation from being abused every night and seeing his innocent friend and sister during the day. The alienated self.

(Extract of a comment Enokido, one of the writers who worked on Utena, wrote about Touga’s role in the Utena movie.)

Of course, you could argue whether or not the sexual abuse is canon or not in the series. After all, the series and the movie don’t seem to take place in the same canon (even though it is hard to completely disconnect the two). Whatever you choose to believe, I personally think it all makes so much sense. 

It makes sense regarding Touga’s general behavior in the series (but this is more touched upon in the essay I linked above) and it makes his goal and his narrative role much clearer.

Being sold like a mere object, knowing a much harsher truth about life Saionji and Nanami don’t know about, showing everyone a stronger facade in order to not completely lose your mind and keep protecting your friend and your sister from this reality and eventually... letting them know in a painfully gendered way, perpetuating everything this system has forced on you. 

It has all become part of you. 

Keeping the cycle of violence going became part of your blood and flesh. Making clear who is supposed to inflict pain and who is supposed to receive it. Who is supposed to protect and who is supposed to be protected. Who is supposed to act and who is supposed to wait. 

And you ? No, you’re never supposed to hurt anymore. You want a way out of this. For you, the easiest way is to simply reclaim the place that was always prepared for you to take. 

When Touga and Saionji found Utena in her coffin, it feels like Touga knew something Saionji didn’t. Saionji felt it too, but he wasn’t able to recognize what it was. After all, he was still a child. Touga knew about the same thing Utena learned with her parents’ death : they both had a glimpse of what the “adult world” (Akio’s world) actually looks like, shattering their juvenile knowledge of the world. 

A world where people die. A world where the weak lose. A world where the prince should protect the princess. 

Touga already had a coffin. Utena just found hers and was about to find a new one. Saionji was just finding his. 

It all makes sense regarding how obedient Touga is to Akio and why he seeks his validation, his desire to go up in the hierarchy aside. It makes sense because he is “alienated”. Touga got deprived of everything, he knows the burden of being alive and he’s learned, from his early childhood, to be compliant. 

He seems independent during the Student Council arc and a majority of the series, but eps 35 and 36 show he is not the mastermind of it all. He has a privileged position but unlike some other characters, Touga never uses his agency to try to break out of the system ─ he follows its rules and tries to reinforce his dominance. 

Why would you break out from a system serving you so well ?

“I want to become like him. I want power like his.”

Touga is alienated to the system and his only goal is to become what it expects of him. After all, why wouldn’t he ? Being a prince is the best position offered by the system. Being a prince means acquiring an absolute power. With such power, one doesn’t die and is forever out of reach and harm and pain. Who wouldn’t want such a thing ? 

The prince never saves the princess out of selflessness. He saves her because it gives him a reward in exchange. He saves her because it gives him power and control over her and ultimately, everyone else. And so, the princess becomes a "toy" wannabe princes has to win, to conquer.

Does Touga, even during what seems to be his most “sincere” moment in ep 36, ever wish to protect Utena for something else than possessing her ? When could have he learned to know and appreciate her as a person, rather than a princess ? A reward to conquer ?

When did he stop wishing he could’ve saved Utena just like Akio did ? I believe he might be genuine, yet he acts toward Utena exactly like she acts toward Anthy. He wants to save her for his own sake, regardless of her personal hopes and desires. 

It’s truly sad, though. Because all of it is nothing but a childish dream. There was never once a prince in this world. Only boring and abusive adults. 

“Are you really happy with that?”

Well, when it comes down to it, probably not. But was it ever about happiness ? Probably not either. The pursuit of power only ever leads to isolation, to a complete lack of meaning ─ after all, friendship is a fool’s thing. No one can reach what’s behind the facade. 

Saionji was able to confront Touga with his own lies and paradoxes, get as close to his real self anyone probably could. But it wasn’t enough. Saionji himself didn’t go as far as leaving the system entirely, even when it seemed he had cracked it all. Touga sort of did, too. 

As far as I’m concerned, we only heard his own, deep thoughts once.

“Kiryuu Touga, the playboy Student Council President... Is it? "Playboy" sounds old-fashioned.”

Touga weaponized himself. He weaponized his body (sex is only a tool to aim for power). He weaponized his heart (relationships only matter if you use them to your advantage. Those who believe in love and friendship are fools and will be ultimately be used to someone else’s advantage). And for what ? 

I really like the symbolism of the poppy flower in ep 35. I feel like it symbolizes Akio’s power, in a way. I’m incredibly bad when it comes to the language of flowers (so everyone is free to correct me) but please bear with me. In the East, red poppy flowers apparently symbolize romantic love and success (what it probably means for the girl confessing to Touga, as well as Akio when he “eats” it in this scene, since Touga and him are talking about Utena) but it can also symbolize “luxurious pleasures and fantastic extravagance”. In the Japanese language of flowers, red poppies can also symbolize someone “fun-loving”. I feel like both of these work with Akio and I believe that for Touga, they are a symbol of luxury and extravagance. 

Yet another girl confessed to him. Without even thinking about it, he kissed her. He will never read her confession letter, he probably didn’t even notice it. He will probably simply leave it on the floor, without a care. This pursuit of power isn’t even fulfilling to him, there’s absolutely no thought behind it. Only automatic actions, behaviors working in favor of someone else’s greater scheme. He won’t even get to actually possess Utena. 

He will never get what he truly wants. Is there even anything that he truly wants ? Saionji, maybe. In the meantime, he’s just a tool for a system. A system made up by boring adults, based on lies, illusions and unachievable dreams. 

Touga is condemned to go in cycles. He’s given everything to overcome what keeps him stuck and trapped, but it doesn’t do anything. He can only revolve around his own coffin, completing the same circle, again and again. 

He doesn’t know how to do anything else. 

It will never make anything he’s done forgivable. But at least, maybe one day, he’ll realize. Or maybe never. 

We can always create new roads, leading to worlds completely unknown to us, where everything needs to be built. Anthy and Utena are here to show the way, who deserves to follow these new roads is only up to you. 

On a purely personal standpoint... I was never really able to answer this question. 

“No. It's not over until we see it through the very end.”

[pareidoliaonthemove]

A New Policy

Part Two: VIP (Very Important imPosition)

(And since Tumblr is being a pain and I can't find Part One here, you can find it here on AO3).

Apolline Morel looked up as the door gave its discreet chime.

And swore.

She had been the Invoicing and Reception Operative at Tracy Industries’ prestigious Custom Transport Paris office for the last seven years, and had seen all sorts of eccentric – and rich – persons come through the door, and by far Francois Lemaire was the worst of the worst.

She and her colleagues had often dreamed and schemed about refusing the obnoxious idiot service, and they had initially been overjoyed at the thought that they had official permission from the highest authority – Scott Tracy, CEO and homme de rêve – to do so. Until they realised that they would have to tell Lemaire that they would not sell whatever it was he wanted.

To his face.

Apolloine, as had all her colleagues, had consoled herself that the chances of having to actually do so were remote. After all, the Blacklisted persons had all been notified that they would no longer be served by Tracy Industries businesses, non?

Non; or at least, Lemaire hadn’t got the message. Apolline’s heart sank as the man burst through the secondary doors, a damned hovercamera flitting around him, and his wife – Madeline – trailing behind him, with the air of a woman who knew she was about to witness a train wreck and was helpless (and disinclined) to stop it.

“And here we are, at our first stop towards adventure! The luxurious offices of Custom Transport Paree” – Apolline rolled her eyes as his English-language monologue made a point of over-emphasising the proper (that is, French) pronunciation of the city – “where the best designers and technicians will spare no effort – and I will spare no expense – to ensure that I, Francois Lemaire, will be in comfort as I forge yet another world first! The first person to drive up Mount Everest!”

Apolline remembered his previous ‘expedition’ to Everest. It had taken three sherpas to carry the man’s cheeses to the top of the mountain. The outcry from the amount of rubbish that had been left on the top of the mountain – not just holy, but considered an actual goddess – had been the final straw that saw the Nepalese severely restricting access to the mountain. Never mind the idiocy on the descent that saw the man trapping himself and three sherpas in an ice cave. With a yak.

Lemaire’s monologue ended with a flourish as he presented himself to the desk. The holocamera drifted out for dramatic wide angle. “I am Francois Lemaire. Adventurer. Explorer!”

A pointed cough from behind him. “Oh, and this my biographer, Madeline Lemaire.” A vague handwave behind him.

“Your wife.” It was muttered, and not meant for Apolline to hear. Apolline met the woman’s eyes, and was surprised when she smirked. “Give it to him good” was mouthed silently.

Apolline didn’t have a chance to acknowledge Madeline, Lemaire had resumed speaking. “And I have come here today, to Custom Transport Paree to order the construction of a car that will enable me to be the first person to drive up Mount Everest!”

He struck a pose, clearly expecting some kind of accolade or ovation.

Apolline smiled at him, tightly. “Does Monsieur have an appointment?”

He stared at her, bewildered. “I am Francois Lemaire,” he repeated. “Explorer? Adventurer? World Famous? First person to visit Halley’s Comet? I brought the Solar Wind off you people!”

Apolline typed into the computer, as she tried to figure out how to handle this. “Francois … Lemaire …”

The computer beeped before Lemaire could list more ‘accomplishments’.

Apolline looked at the display. Apparently Lemaire had also brought a bathyscape, Artic snowcrawler, and submersible from them as well.

Across the client file display in big, violent red letters was the words ‘Account Closed. Blacklisted’. Apolline’s eyes widened. Management wasn’t taking any chances here, were they?

She took a deep breath, and went for broke. “I am sorry, Mr Lemaire, it appears you do not have an appointment, and that you no longer qualify for a client file.”

Apolline had once been visiting friends in Sicily when Mount Etna had undergone it’s biggest eruption in recorded history. The effects of the volcano had nothing on Lemaire’s reaction.

“I AM FRANCOIS LEMAIRE!!!” he screamed. “I AM WORLD FAMOUS!!! I AM RICH!!!! YOU CANNOT REFUSE TO BUILD MY MOUNTAIN CLIMBING CAR!!! I WANT IT!!! AND YOU ARE GOING TO GIVE IT TO ME!!!”

Apolline got to work on the computer as the man continued his tantrum. DM channels; where was … Ah, here. Blacklist: Situation. She started typing rapidly.

Name: Apolline Morel

Section: Invoicing and Reception, Custom Transport Paris

Details: Francois Lemaire arrived office, no appointment, demand construction of ‘mountaineering car’ to be ‘first person to drive up Mt Everest’. Became hysterical on being told no longer qualifies for client file. Request assistance.

She hit send and eyed the time display discreetly inlaid into the desk’s surface. Response within ten minutes, the memo and training packages had said. Well, she’d be testing that promise out today.

She didn’t think she could stand more than ten minutes of this.

They were seven and a half minutes in and Apolline hadn’t seen evidence of Lemaire drawing in a breath as his high-volume tirade continued non-stop. Behind him, Madeline was disinterestedly examining her nails as the holocamera zoomed around the room erratically, closing in and out from Lemaire and careening around in circles, apparently controlled by Lemaire’s hand gestures, his wild gesticulation had sent it haywire.

She was just about to try again to speak when in the ceiling a previously unknown holoprojector flared into life.

Lemaire was finally silenced as everyone in the room stared in shock as a hologram – a very high quality, almost solid appearing hologram – of Scott Tracy appeared standing behind the desk, next to Apolline, as large as life, and almost as physically real.

Mr Tracy turned to Apolline. “Ms Morel,” he said, smiling slightly at her. “I am sorry that you have had to deal with this. Please, take an extended lunch break – with full pay.”

Apolline quickly swiped her employee card at the terminal, logging her out of the system and securing the terminal, and she stood, fighting the urge to curtsy to her employer.

“I am sorry to have bothered you, Mr Tracy. Thank you for your assistance. If you need me, I shall be in the employee lounge, sir.”

Scott smiled, and nodded. “Thank you, Ms Morel. Please take your time.”

He turned back to Lemaire as Apolline backed away, awed to be in the presence of the legendary Scott Tracy, even if said presence was a holographic one.

In the background, Madeline grinned at her, and gave her a discreet ‘thumbs up’ – Apolline smiled back at the woman, and mouthed ‘thank you’ to her.

Holographic Scott Tracy had turned his attention to Lemaire as Apolline ordered the elevator to take her to the second floor. “Now, Mr Lemaire, I believe there are some matters we need to clear up…” was the last thing she heard as the elevator doors closed.

It seemed like every member of Custom Transport Paris’s staff was crammed into the employee lounge.

Apolline barely had time to register this fact when Andre, her manager, seized her by the arm. “Apolline, are you all right? It must have been awful, dealing with that terrible man!”

“I’m fine. But what’s everyone doing here?”

“Word got around that Lemaire was here. We all wanted to see what would happen when you refused him service.”

Apolline snorted. “Thanks. Nobody thought to help me?”

“I think you had plenty of help, without us.” Andre gestured at the security hologram of the lobby and reception desk on display in the centre of the room.

Apolline stared. A holographic Lemaire was scowling at the equally unimpressed holographic (double-holographic?) Scott Tracy. “What’s happened?” she asked.

“After you left Mr Tracy ‘reminded’ Lemaire that he had been blacklisted, and no Tracy Industries companies would serve him.” Andre started.

“And Lemaire kicked off about how that it was illegal,” snickered Juan, one of the designers.

Andre glared at him. “Mr Tracy’s just finished going through the legal details of why and how that is allowed,” he continued. “Mr Tracy either has a very thorough knowledge of business and customer service law, or he has been very well briefed, very quickly.”

“Shhhh!” someone hushed from near the hologram. “It’s starting to get good!”

Everyone pushed closer to the hologram, those in front sitting or kneeling down to allow a better view for those in back.

The tiny Lemaire was pouting, “I don’t know why you’re making such a fuss, nobody died! Anyway, if the car that your company provides fails, you run International Rescue. You can stop people dying because your company provides inferior products.”

There were outraged gasps around the room. Most of the designers were casting longing looks at the door with clenched fists, but were being held in place by their friends from other departments.

Lemaire kept going. “Is that why you started International Rescue? So you can play the hero when your substandard products fail and put people in danger?” He was attempting to poke the hologram in the chest with his fingers. “You put me in danger! I could have got back from Halley’s Comet if your company had given me a safe spaceship.”

Scott Tracy’s eyes blazed. “MISTER Lemaire. I must warn you that, as per the signage, for security purposes the premises integrate security cameras, and that what you are saying is slander.” A hand appeared from behind Mr Tracy, disappearing into a red and black checked sleeve, and lightly touched his shoulder. Muttered words and Mr Tracy made a visible effort to calm himself, before speaking again and the hand disappeared.

“Mr Lemaire, your stated purpose for commissioning a quote ‘mountain climbing car’ is to ‘drive up’ Mount Sagarmatha–”

“Um, No! I’m going to drive up Mount Everest! I said that VERY clearly. Mount EVER-REST.”

“Mount Sagarmatha, and after your disastrous previous ‘expedition’ – and the numerous crimes you commited during that time–”

“What ‘crimes’? Now how’s slandering who? I committed no crimes!”

Mr Tracy stared. “You mean other than making false statements to gain your climb permit? Fraudulently claiming you had climbed other 8,000ft peaks? Fraudulently claiming you had appropriate insurance. Mistreatment of the Sherpas you hired? Interfering with burial sites?”

Lemaire shuddered. “I was not going to share a camp site with corpses,” he declared. “After all that fuss they made about ‘polluting’ the mountain, you think they’d clean up the corpses. Health hazard, that is.”

“Mr” – and there was no mistaking the disdain in that title – “Lemaire, Mount Sagarmatha is a recognised burial ground. It is dangerous to try and remove from the mountain anybody who cannot realistically be saved. What you did – pushing the bodies off the mountain – was a crime. And as such, the Nepalese Government deported you and banned you from ever returning to their country again.”

Lemaire waved his hand dismissively. “I’m not going back to Nepal. Why would I want to? Much better to drive up Mount Everest from Tibet. The route is all planned.”

There was a sigh. “In any case, other than approved helicopters at both North and South Face base camps, no mechanised vehicles are permitted on Mount Sagarmatha or Mount Chomolungma. Even Thunderbirds are forbidden under normal circumstances. As per our agreement with both the Nepalese and Tibetan Governments, International Rescue do not respond to calls from the Holy Mountain, other than at the request of the governments.” The disembodied hand returned, resting comforting on Mr Tracy’s shoulder.

Apolline shuddered. How many calls for help from dying mountaineers had they been forced to ignore? He heart ached, but she realised that the phrase ‘Holy Mountain’ was how Mr Tracy reminded himself that his help, there on a literal goddess, was not appropriate.

Lemaire sniffed. “Nobody will deny me. Nobody turns away the money I can pay. I’ll drive up Mount Everest. I’ll be the first person to do it, and the world will be watching.” He turned away. “And I’ll make sure everybody knows that Tracy Industries refuses to serve customers.”

Suddenly Lemaire spun back, again stabbing fingers at Mr Tracy’s holographic chest. “And don’t get any ideas about stealing my idea! I’ll sue you into poverty if I find out you’re even thinking about driving up Mount Everest before me!”

Lemaire turned again and flounced out of the building, the holocamera faithful tailing him, with Madeline reluctantly behind. Scott Tracy’s hologram remained, standing in front of the reception desk, hands on hips and frowning at the retreating ‘explorer’

In the employee lounge, people erupted into cheers and catcalls at Lemaire. There were backslaps and hugs all around.

All of which fell to awed silence as the hologram of the reception lobby disappeared to be replaced by the lifesized Scott Tracy. An eyebrow went up at the packed room, before he spoke. “Ms Morel?”

Apolline stepped into the holograms reception field – although she suspected from his reaction that when Mr Tracy accessed it, the reception field was greatly expanded – assisted by a push from Andre. “Yes, Mr Tracy?”

His eyes raked her, assessing, “I wanted to make sure you were alright after your … unpleasant … experience earlier.” His eyes darted around the room. “And I must say, I am very pleased to see you so ably supported by your colleagues.”

Mr Durand, the General Manager, stepped forward. “Please forgive us, Mr Tracy. Mr Lemaire has in the past been an unpleasant person for many of our staff to deal with. When it became apparent that he had returned, despite his Blacklisted status, many people hoped for the satisfaction of seeing him turned away.”

Mr Tracy nodded, thoughtfully. “I hope I didn’t disappoint.” A pause. “And, to further reassure you all, the recording of Mr Lemaire’s statements here today will be forwarded to the Nepalese, Tibetan, and Chinese Governments. If anyone is foolish enough to supply him with the vehicle he is trying to purchase, he will be stopped before he can get anywhere near the mountain.”

There was a general murmur of approval throughout the room, and Mr Tracy frowned again. “Mr Durand, you said that Mr Lemaire has been unpleasant do deal with in the past. Can you please forward to an elaboration on that to my email? And sometime in the next fortnight, please provide a list and broad details of any comparable clients. It appears we need to educate some of our customers as to how to behave politely in public.”

The General Manager nodded, as another murmur of appreciation went up around the room. Mr Tracy turned back to Apolline. “Ms Morel, I am deeply sorry that you had to deal with that outburst earlier. If you feel you need it, please do not hesitate to take time off. I will make sure you receive full pay for any time.”

Apolline gathered herself. “Thank you for your kindness, Mr Tracy. I am perfectly all right. I do not need any time away from work. And it is I who should apologise to you. I am sorry that I disturbed you to deal with this matter.”

Mr Tracy smiled easily. “No apology necessary, Ms Morel. I am afraid we did expect something like this when we instigated the Blacklist, it’s why we set up the Blacklist DM. The people we have been forced to refuse custom are … not known for their social skills, and tend to operate with little regard for safety and the welfare of others.”

Apolline bowed her head. “Then I am sorry that you have to deal with them, Mr Tracy. Hopefully, this will be the last time.”

Mr Tracy sighed. “I doubt it, Ms Morel. Unfortunately, other companies will build what he wants because they cannot afford to turn away commissions. And they will wash their conscience by saying it falls to others to ensure the rules he will break are upheld.”

Someone else spoke up then. “Do you really not rescue people off of Mount, uh –”

Mr Tracy smiled. “The highest mountain in the world? It does get rather confusing about the name issue, but it was only fifty years ago Nepal and Tibet agreed on the official height of the mountain. And as for agreeing on an official name … Well, miracles do happen.” Then he sighed. “And yes, as I told Mr Lemaire, unless we get official requests from the appropriate governments, we do not respond. It is part of the agreement International Rescue has with the Council of World Governments that allows us to operate. We wouldn’t park a Thunderbird in a church, we will not park one on the mountain. Everyone who climbs the mountain does so knowing the risks, and they must accept the consequences.” He seemed to wilt, “It’s hard, but we must do it.”

A klaxon sounded, and a voice announced, “International Rescue, we have a situation.”

Mr Tracy glanced over his shoulder, before turning back to his employees speaking rapidly. “I’m sorry, I’m going to have to go. But thank you again, Ms Morel for your sterling work in a difficult situation, and thank you, everybody, for your support of your colleagues. It’s always a pleasure to see people who work together and look after each other. Mr Durand, I look forward to working with you to ensure our people are treated correctly. Tracy Island out.” The hologram fizzed and blinked out, the view of the empty lobby returning.

“Wow.” Apolline didn’t realise she had spoken until Andre placed a hand on her shoulder.

“Do as Mr Tracy says, Apolline, take some time. I’ll take over the desk for the rest of today.”

Apolline shook herself, and went to speak, but she saw the rest of the company nodding at her, encouragingly. She reconsidered. “Thank you, Andre. I think after this morning a break from reception will be welcome. I will work on invoicing today, if I may.”

Andre glanced at Mr Durand, and they both shrugged. “If you feel that’s best for you, Apolline,” he said.

Mr Durand nodded. “And before everybody returns to their work, may I please request that you provide me with details of past … unpleasant encounters, both with Mr Lemaire and other clients, as Mr Tracy requested. Hopefully we will be able to prevent further such displays.”

The room broke up, Apolline snatching her lunch from the refrigerator before joining the huddle of Invoicing and Reception staff returning to their backroom offices. As she joined in with her own stories of horrible customers, she felt a sense of pride. Not just in herself, but in her colleagues – her friends. Coming to work was still a pain many days, but Tracy Industries went out of its way to treat its people well.

And today proved how far out of its way it would go.

Notes:

I MAY have been fantasising a bit about employers who actually care about and support their employees.

I may also have been catching up on some reading / viewing and had a convergence of Mt Everest (name used for simplicity) related 'texts' (most of which is 'Dead Lucky: life after death on Mount Everest' by Lincoln Hall) - and I now understand MORE about the logistics of doing so, and understand LESS about why anyone would be so insane as to wish to do so.

I hope everyone has employers and colleagues as supportive as Apolline has.

[ahdraftingco]

Oneshot: Side Job

Pairing: The Mandalorian x Reader

AO3 Crosspost: https://archiveofourown.org/works/43004610

Summary: Your greatest rival, the Mandalorian, has just discovered a secret you've been hiding and it's about time for you to get even. So, you decide to expose him to a truth powder and…he pounces on you?!

Word Count: 9.0k+

A/N: As always, please read through ALL the warnings before proceeding: porn with plot, gender neutral!reader (afab), hard dom!din djarin, sex worker/customer relationship, mildly dubious consent, enemies to lovers, sex pollen, rough sex, bdsm, choking, spanking, whipping (with a riding crop), double penetration, some anal (reference to earlier warning), multiple orgasms, squirting, use of the word "sir", degradation (he calls you a whore, a hole, etc), pet play (he calls you "pet", you're wearing a collar, etc), praise kink, size difference, fear play, aggressive/possessive/risky behavior, alcohol, the helmet and his armor stay on!

This oneshot is for the raffle winner on Tumblr! I hope you end up enjoying this one ~ ♡

You should've guessed this would happen eventually, but you didn't think the Mandalorian had the balls to walk into this sex club and demand you. You were almost certain he wouldn't step foot in an establishment like this and yet here he was, in the flesh.

Or, well, in that bulky metal get-up he always wears...

You grit your teeth out of pure annoyance as you prep the room, knowing you'd be servicing him of all people. How did he find out about your side job? He must have followed you back here from your previous hunt.

You are, after all, quite the bounty hunter during the day. You've caught his eye after you've stolen several of his bounties over the past few months, so you can only guess this encounter is his revenge.

What is he going to make you do to him?

You can't imagine the Mandalorian undoing his pants and whipping out his cock in front of you. He seems a bit too…reserved for that.

Maybe he's a looker. You've had plenty of clients watch you masturbate so they can get off to instructing you on how to touch yourself.

As per policy, you don't engage in penetrative sex unless you choose to and the client has been thorough tested for any infections. You saw the Mandalorian's test results, which you're surprised he had on hand.

Had he been planning this meeting for a while? He would've had to get checked up by the club's clinic while you were off-duty because you've never seen him before tonight.

Sneaky bastard…

With a sigh, you sit down in the made bed as you normally do, with your legs spread wide open. You're wearing the usual uniform for this establishment, which is nothing but a leather collar hooked to a chain that you have wrapped around your dominant hand. You rarely get customers who end up using it, but they almost all like the way it looks on you.

You wait patiently for the Mandalorian to get to the room and he makes you wait quite a long time, which only pisses you off more. So, you hop off the bed and grab a bottle of liquor out of the cabinet, along with a small capsule of sparkly blue powder, tucking it securely in the little slot in your collar to conceal for later. One whiff of this and he'll be in a daze, unable to resist being completely open with you. You'll be able to ask him what his next few bounties are so you can take those too. You might as well get some use out of this encounter.

As you swirl the green liquor in your crystal glass, you watch as the Mandalorian finally makes his appearance. He opens the door to your room and promptly shuts it the moment he sees you.

You lean your back against the wall across from him and go, "you sure took your sweet ass time getting here."

There's a silence that washes over the room after you say that. He simply keeps his helmet on you, then looks you up and down, as if he's never seen a naked person before in his life.

"Are you going to keep staring or are you going to do something?" The irritation is apparent in your voice. "You know I still keep your money even if we don't do anything."

The Mandalorian speaks up after a few more quiet moments. "Are you always this forward with your clients?"

"Were you expecting different treatment?" You set your glass down so that you have the leverage to twirl the metal chain in your hand without worrying about spilled liquid.

"Will you at least put something on?" He turns away, his helmet shifting to the wall, and you…find that odd.

"You're in a sex club, Mando." You say bluntly as you walk over to your dresser, pulling on a robe that covers you up decently. "I don't know what you expected when you stepped in here."

"I wanted to talk." He explains, the words whirring through his modulator. "This is the only place I can discuss things with you in private."

"You paid for a night with me for a conversation?" You nearly snicker at how ludicrous that sounds. "You must be joking."

"I'm not." He leans back against the wall, mirroring you, the metal of his armor colliding lightly against it. The sound rings through the silent room before his voice accompanies it, "I need to know why you won't leave me alone."

You don't hold back your laughter anymore, letting it out rather dramatically before you reply, "you're seriously asking me this?"

"Yes." His tone is so stoic that he might as well be a droid. "You've been bothering me for far too long and I need to understand why."

Another laugh erupts from you, unable to contain it. You even shed a few tears because this has to be the most ridiculous thing you've ever experienced. The Mandalorian booked a night with you at a sex club to ask why you're being a nuisance to him.

That's comedic gold.

"You're funny, Mando." You wipe your eyes, trying to regain your composure. "To think you went through all this effort for me to tell you that you're an easy target."

"Excuse me?" He moves off the wall then, making his way towards you. "Did you just call me an easy target?"

You watch as he gets closer to you and you realize you've never been this close to the Mandalorian before. At least not with him being aware. He's…very big compared to you and that feels a bit intimidating, though you'd never admit it to him. You wouldn't lose your pride like that.

That's why you continue to jab him with your snarky remarks, "I said what I said. Maybe you're getting old, been in the game too long. You should leave these bounties for those less burnt out."

A smile curves on your face out of delight. You love bickering with the Mandalorian, especially when he sees you turn in his quarries. There's something so satisfying about messing with him.

Though, you should've seen the aggression coming the moment you pressed him like that. However, you still gasp when his hand wraps around your throat, squeezing it tightly before he shoves you against the wall, his body trapping you there. You see the blue powder fill the air, the force of his grip breaking the capsule in your collar, and it's obvious he took a breath in from the way the powder disappears towards him.

Your eyes widen as his hold on your neck gets tighter and the Mandalorian's voice goes low, "you've really done it, haven't you?"

"Done what?" You don't know what he's talking about.

"The powder." His chest plate weighs down on your chest as he inches closer, his leg forcing its way between yours.

You're acutely aware now that you're naked beneath your robe when you can feel the cold metal shielding his thigh rub up against you. You swallow at the feeling, not knowing why it riles you up so much to grind against it.

"It's nothing." You confess what you believe to be the truth. "It's only supposed to lessen your inhibitions, like alcohol would."

The Mandalorian scoffs and the sound sends shivers down your spine. Though, there's nothing more unnerving than when he says, "is that why I want to torment you?"

"Why would you want–" You don't get to finish your sentence.

He crushes your neck in his gloved hand before you can, the smell of leather filling your senses as you choke, gasping for air desperately. You start to claw at his arm but to no avail. You may be sneaky, however the Mandalorian is much, much stronger than you and he laughs quietly at your struggle.

All the while, his leg is holding you hostage and with every movement, you feel your clit getting stimulated more and more.

Maybe it was the sip of liquor earlier, but you're extra sensitive. Though, it might be the chill of the beskar he's wearing. He knows it too, the way he's affecting you, because he whispers, "does my pet want to come?"

Before you can question the word pet, the Mandalorian grabs the chain you had let go of to fight him and he lifts it over your head, tugging on it as his hand frees itself from your neck. Now, he's choking you a whole different way and you're squirming, your fingers digging into your collar to stop yourself from suffocating. His other hand moves between your legs and you jolt when you feel his fingers pinch your clit. The leather drags along your folds before he lifts his hand up to show you his soaked fingertips, your slick glistening his gloves.

"You like this, don't you?" You can hear the smirk on his face in his tone. "Who knew you'd enjoy this kind of play."

You would tell him to eat shit but you're fully focused on not passing out from being hung like this. It really shows how powerful he is compared to you and that thought causes your clit to throb. You chew on your lip, not wanting to give him the reaction he wants, but you can't hide from him. Not when you're dripping down your thighs from how turned on you are…so much so that you notice it on his thigh, where you were grinding on earlier.

"Be a good pet tonight." The Mandalorian lowers the chain, letting you suck in air finally. "And I'll make sure you get your fill."

"I'm not your pet." You refute once you can breathe out words again. Though, with the way the scene looks right now with the chain wrapped around his hand, it's like you really are his pet and he's taking you on a walk…

"You'll want to be mine." He says with a tug and you stumble on your feet, falling into his arms.

With ease, the Mandalorian picks you up and carries you over to your bed. He takes a seat at the edge and then seats you right on his thigh like before. You're so shocked at what's happening that you don't notice the way he snatches your wrists, keeping them together as he wraps the chain around them, securing them in place.

"What are you doing!" You glare at him, wondering what's going on in his mind.

You've used this powder before. It helps clients loosen up a bit, but you've never seen it have this kind of effect on anyone. Though, maybe that's because your clients aren't usually the dominating type, since those clients tend to know what they want so there's no need for the powder.

Have you accidentally fueled a sadist? It feels like it when the Mandalorian pulls you so that you're sitting properly on his thigh, his hands holding you firmly at the waist.

Then, he instructs, "ride my thigh to your orgasm, my pet. I want to watch you make a mess of yourself."

"You're insane." You try to wriggle out of his grasp but your defiance is met with a smack on your ass, a small yelp leaving your lips at the sudden shock.

"Do as I say, or I'll have to punish you."

You don't speak or move. You don't really know what to do. He's overpowering you and you can't give into it.

But, you're too hesitant, so you're met with yet another smack.

You can almost feel the bruises forming from how hard he's slapping you and it aches, but every time you try to adjust so you don't sit on your ass, you're rubbing yourself against his thigh, which is exactly what he wants.

The Mandalorian is toying with you and there's nothing you can do about it. Fuck.

"I'll give you one more chance to be a good pet. All you have to do is come on my thigh, like you would've earlier. Don't fight me anymore." His words are intoxicating and you wonder if the powder is affecting you. You're immune to it, since you got the vaccine before you started work here, and yet it seems to be lowering your own inhibitions.

A part of you wants to give in, to submit, but you push through that desire.

"No." You refuse to comply. "I won't do anything of the sort."

"Last chance before I punish you." He warns, his tone shifting to something more dark and frightening.

"Then punish me." You call his bluff, doubting that he'd do anything actually torturous.

Though, the moment he drags you off his lap and chains you to your bed frame, you know you're in trouble. The Mandalorian undoes your robe and now you're visibly naked in front of him. You can't tell where he's looking because of the helmet and for some reason, that makes you even more flustered.

Especially when he flicks your clit out of nowhere.

"What the fuck!" You shout at him, trying to kick him for doing that but he ends up holding your legs down so you can't anymore.

"Don't make me tie up your legs too." He threatens and you want to spit on him.

"You're an asshole." You decide to use your words and that only worsens things for you as his hand moves between your legs, slipping downwards until it's pressing up against what you just called him. A panic shoots through you at the feeling so you tell him, "please stop!"

His finger doesn't push forward, but the threat is there as he replies, "ask properly and I'll move my hand."

You chew on your cheek, pissed off that you need to listen, but you cave and go, "please don't touch me there."

"I won't, if you agree to be a good pet for me." His touch is light against you and your heart is pounding at how much it tingles.

You aren't prepared for this kind of play so you have to give into his request, "I'll be a good pet for you."

"Address me correctly. Call me sir." He demands, his whole hand cupping you between your legs now, his palm gently kneading your clit.

Did he always have such large hands? You've never noticed until now and it's making you think of things you really shouldn't be right now…

"I'll be a good pet for you, sir." You obey after a moment of contemplation and he does as promised, sliding his fingers away from your ass.

You sigh with relief, the whole scene firing up every nerve in your body. There's an electrifying kind of thrill to his domination that you're electing not to think about and yet you can feel yourself leaning into the way his palm is lazily rubbing up against you. You're surprisingly close to an orgasm, but you won't let him know that.

Though, it seems like he wants to know because the Mandalorian asks, "do you like it when I touch you like this?"

You curse yourself for getting into this situation because you can't answer anything else besides "yes, sir."

"Where else does it ache?" His other hand joins, his fingers teasing your entrance, making your toes curl in response. "Tell me what you want."

"I don't want anything." You lie through your teeth and that's met with two thick fingers forcefully shoving into you. Your whole body writhes at the sudden fullness stretching you out like crazy.

It's been a while since you've done anything penetrative so…fuck, it feels good to be filled like this. Especially when his fingers dig around for that spot that aches to be touched.

When the Mandalorian discovers it, he doesn't hold back and you can't keep your voice in. You cry out as he brutally fingers you, thrusting right against that spot over and over again. Your wrists are digging into the chains because you keep trying to move, needing to free yourself from this torture but you can't escape.

You're going to explode and the Mandalorian is waiting for it. He's waiting for the tension to rise in your body until you're desperate for that sweet release. It's getting closer and closer. Your orgasm is building rapidly, to the point where you're seeing stars in your eyes from the intensity of his movements.

"Please…" You don't know why that word slips from your lips.

"Please what?" He doesn't stop his rough actions, bringing you closer to the edge.

You can't find the words to say as your eyes roll back and your body wants nothing more than to completely unravel. You're shaking, every fiber of your being aching for that searing pleasure. You're about to come–

But, the Mandalorian freezes, denying you of that orgasm you were seeking. You whine, grinding against his fingers, hoping that's enough to get you over the edge but it's not.

"No…" You whimper, like you're on the verge of tears. "Why would you…"

"You said please." There's an amusement in his voice. "I thought you meant please stop, like earlier."

You're so frustrated now, understanding now that this is the punishment. It's double layered too. First, he'll deny you of your orgasm. Then, he'll make you beg for it. Humiliating on both ends…but you strangely like it. You like being forced to submit. You don't make it easy on him and he challenges you back. It's an exchange that you're enjoying more than you should.

"That's not what I meant." You tell him.

"Then, does that mean you finally want to come?" His fingers slip out of you and you suddenly feel so empty…which is why you don't fight him anymore.

"Yes, sir."

The Mandalorian undoes your chains, freeing your wrists, and then in a swift motion, he leans his back up against the bed frame and pulls you onto his thigh once more. The cold beskar shocks your system a little, but the feeling soothes the ache from your denied orgasm.

"Now, will you listen to me?" He taps his thigh plate, the vibrations tickling your sensitive skin. "I want to see you grind on me until you come."

"Why?" You ask because you're curious what he gets out of it.

"I've always wanted to see you break down." His hands glide up every inch of your body before resting at your neck. "I've always wanted to be the one who breaks you until you're begging for mercy."

The Mandalorian gives you a threatening squeeze with both hands wrapped around your throat and you swear, your body quivered from the thrill.

"Break me." You whisper as you finally start grinding yourself on his thigh. "Do your worst to me, Mando."

With every roll of your hips, your thigh brushes against his pants, letting you feel how hard his cock has gotten from the sight of you giving him power over you. His hands tighten and you gasp, but you don't stop moving. He gives you the lightest nod of approval, so you continue, your airways slightly blocked, your mind going fuzzy, your clit getting over-stimulated by the metal you're grinding on.

"What are you thinking of?" One of his hands drags upwards until his thumb rests at your lips. You part them and he shoves his finger in your mouth, watching as your tongue swirls around it before giving it a suck. "Is that what you want?"

You shake your head, moving his finger along with it. He grips your face tighter with his whole hand and your eyes roll back at the roughness.

"Ah, I see. My pet wants to be used, isn't that right?" The Mandalorian tempts you with such a thought.

From the bulge in his pants, you're certain he'd be difficult to handle and that makes this all the more exciting for you.

So, you pull off his thumb with a daring pop and a lick of your lips before replying, "yes, sir."

His thumb drags along your bottom lip before his voice goes all deep and sultry, "whose hole is this?"

"Yours." You part your lips once again but he doesn't shove his thumb back in your mouth.

Instead, the Mandalorian shifts his hand from your face to your back, leaning you forward so that your body is flushed against his. Then, he slides his hand down your back to your ass, his finger dragging down the center until he pokes where he had before, causing that same panic to shoot through you from earlier. But, he reassures you by saying, "I won't touch you here if you don't want me to, but this is mine too, correct?"

You nod in response and he rewards your honesty by slipping past that hole so he can focus on your soaking wet entrance. You bite your lip as his finger curls, teasing along your folds, making you wish he would shove them inside of you again.

"Tell me what you want." His tone is commanding and you're unable to deny your need for him any longer.

"More." You wrap your arms around his neck, holding yourself against him for leverage, knowing you'll need it soon. "I need more of you, sir. I can't come without you."

"That's what I like to hear." That smile in his voice peeks back through. "What a proper pet you've become. I think you deserve to be spoiled a little now."

That's when two of his fingers thrust into you from behind and you came all too quickly at the feeling. They're so much deeper from this angle that you couldn't stop yourself from drenching his thigh with your orgasm. You muffle your moans into his neck, embarrassed at how easily you came.

His other hand gently pats your head then and he goes, "good pet, coming so well for me. Would you like another treat?"

"Yes, please." You're surprised the words leave your lips without a second thought for how needy you sound.

The Mandalorian continues his methodical strokes, playing off your suppressed moans to tell what the best way to touch you is. You're melting from how good it feels and your hips are trying to meet his fingers with every thrust so the pleasure won't end. It's difficult to do so, but you push through it because you don't want to lose the feeling.

"Don't strain yourself." He tells you as he goes back to patting your head kindly. "Do you want to lay down?"

You shake your head. "I'm okay, thank you though."

"Let me know if it's ever too much." His voice is softer now and you wonder if the powder has worn off. Or, maybe, just maybe, this more open version of him is gentle and caring, as much as he is dominating and rough.

"I'd like it if you were a bit meaner." You say with a chuckle and your laughter is met with a hard smack on the ass. "Ow!"

"You asked for it." Oh, he thinks he's funny. "Do you really want me to be mean?"

"I want to see you try." You egg him on. "Give me something to think about when I'm alone."

"I should be the only person you think about when you're alone, my pet." He pulls his fingers out of you and you whine, disappointed it's over already.

"Do you like the thought of me touching myself to you?" You ask because you want him to feel just as embarrassed as you are.

Though, he's oddly forward when he tells you, "I only think of you when I'm alone so I would like it if you thought of me too."

You blink, surprised to hear him confess that. Is he…being truthful? He has to be because of the powder and yet it feels so unbelievable.

"Why would you think of me?" You can't see how you'd be on the mind of a Mandalorian, at least not in that sense.

"I've never had a rival before." He shifts you onto your back, hovering over you now as he states, "I've never had anyone match me the way you have."

"Is that good or bad?"

"Good, because I like being kept on my toes." The Mandalorian admits then he switches to a more demeaning tone, "but bad, because I don't like it when my pet goes off leash and steals my bounties."

You roll your eyes at him. "The pet play stays in the bedroom, Mando."

"We'll see about that." He says and there's such a warmth in his voice then. You wonder what his smile looks like.

You wonder what he looks like. Maybe you'll never find out, but maybe that's okay.

"You say that like we're going to do this again." You won't hope for it, but a part of you would like this not to be a one night stand.

Though, you don't really know what to call this. Technically, he did pay for a night with you so is it even sex or just another transaction? The latter thought makes your heart ache just a bit.

"We will." He's so confident in his words that it's almost comforting. "I'm not letting anyone else touch what's mine now that I have you."

The Mandalorian then proceeds to drag his hand down your body again, starting from your lips all the way to your thighs once again.

You hold your breath for a moment, debating if you should tell him, but when you exhale, the words just spill out, "I can't…do that, Mando."

"Why?" He lifts his hand off you, not wanting to overstep if you don't want it.

"Because I have to pay for this room somehow." You gesture to the space. "I live here, after all."

"You live here, in this club?" He's shocked to hear that and it's understandable. "I thought this was just a room for your kind of work."

"It's both." You explain as openly as you can. "I get the room to store my stuff and sleep at a low price as long as I work ten days out of the month. It's the most affordable housing option for someone like me. Safe too."

"Safe." There's a bite in the way he says that word.

"I'm perfectly protected here." You're certain he saw the security on the way in. "It's better than living on the streets. Stable and provides good rest between hunts."

"But you have to work here for it."

You understand that it's not ideal, but you've gone over all the alternatives. Plus, you shouldn't need to explain yourself to him of all people. You don't know why you did it in the first place.

"It's none of your business, Mando." You want to end the conversation there, but he won't let it go.

"It's not, and yet…" He shifts his gaze away from you, his helmet staring off into the distance before turning back. There's something on his mind and it takes him a while to articulate the thought aloud, "why do I care so much about you?"

"What?" You're baffled to hear this.

"It's true that I bought this night with you to talk to you privately. But I also needed help understanding why you've buried yourself in my mind like a pest burrowing beneath my skin."

The Mandalorian…can't be serious, is he?

"Maybe you just find me annoying." You throw out that fact and he nods in agreement.

"I do, very much so." He speaks his truth, "but I also…miss you when I don't see you. I don't know why though."

"I wouldn't know either. Why would you miss me?" Oh, there's that heartache peeking through again, pinching your soul.

There's no way you'd have feelings for the Mandalorian. He's your rival. He's just the person whose bounties you steal. He's not…he shouldn't mean anything more to you but you realize you think of him often.

Has he too buried himself in your mind like a little bug, hiding away for the winter?

"I don't know what this feeling is." The Mandalorian tells you truthfully, indicating that the powder is still working. "I've never felt this way before. I've never wanted someone the way I want you."

"This is more than just sex, right?" You wouldn't mind having a beneficial relationship with him, especially since your tastes align, but…it would be nice knowing that it wasn't just that.

"I've had sex before." He states, wanting you to be aware of it. "But it's never felt like this. I've never enjoyed it this much. It's always been a means to an end, a form of release, but with you, I want to see more than just my cock deep inside of you, my pet. I want to see you melt from how good it feels to be all mine."

"I can't be yours, Mando." It hurts you to say it but it's the truth. "At least, not the way you want."

"Why?" He needs to know.

So, with a long sigh, you tell him everything, "I'm locked into a contract. I have to stay here for another year before I can go. They're good people here so I can't just leave them high and dry."

"I don't care if you stay here. But why does that mean you can't be mine?" That's the part he's hung up on.

"Because it wouldn't be fair to you." You reach up, caressing the side of his helmet as if it were his real cheek. "You should find someone else, someone who can belong fully to you."

"You do belong fully to me." He declares and your heart flutters at his words. "I don't care who you touch for your work. All I care about is that you know who owns you at the end of the day. Every part of you is mine, no matter who touches you. I can wait a year to have you to myself completely. So, can you?"

"Am I worth it, Mando?" You don't know if you are.

But, he assures you that you are when he says, "you're worth more than you know. And my name is Din. Din Djarin. Though, you'll call me sir in bed, okay?"

"Okay, Din." You repeat his name aloud with a smile before saying, "I hope you don't regret this."

"Never." He says like a promise and the butterflies in your stomach dance wildly. "I'll prove it. Give me more of that powder."

"Are you sure?" That'll be quite the dosage.

"I want to show you how much I want you." Din runs his gloved hands along every curve of your body. "I want to make you all mine tonight."

"I'd like that." You nod before getting up, going over to your cabinet to grab some more pills.

Though, you aren't expecting Din to be right behind you when you turn around. He peers into your open cabinet and your skin heats up when you realize what he's looking at.

"Do your clients use these on you?" He pulls out a riding crop and some red rope.

"I normally use it on them." You awkwardly explain. "I rarely have clients do anything to me. They're normally here to have me do things to them so I've never had any of these used on me."

"So," Din plucks the pills from your fingers and crushes it in his hand, breathing in the powder until there's nothing left before saying, "I guess there's a first for everything."

That's when he grabs you by the collar and throws you onto the bed, face first. You gasp when you feel the coarseness of the rope as he binds your wrists and arms. Your elbows are locked now and you can't flail at all.

"Bend your knees for me, my pet." He demands and you listen all too quickly, getting on your knees for him. "Spread your legs now and present to me."

You're flustered at his dominating aura, especially since you can't see shit since he's behind you, but you open your legs up, letting him get a full view of you from behind. That's when you feel the leather flap of the riding crop drag down between your ass cheeks, sending such a surge of shock through you.

"Please, sir." You're scared he's going to hit you where it's too sensitive. "Be gentle."

"Mmm," a sound of approval leaves his lips, "I like that you didn't tell me to stop."

You yelp when you feel the first smack on your ass, your whole body tensing up from the sudden strike. The riding crop feels so much different than his hand. It's smaller, more precise, and the crack sound makes your knees weak.

"If only you could see how wet you are." Din glides the riding crop along your inner thighs, detailing how much you're dripping for him. "You must be aching for something inside of you."

Your eyes widen at his words because you expect him to finger you again but instead, you hear him rummaging through your drawers, looking for all the possible tools he can use on you. You have no idea why a different kind of pleasure rises inside of you at the thought of him doing whatever he wants to you. You're bound. You can't stop him. You can't even see what he's doing.

It's all too much and not enough at the same time.

"Look at the way you're shivering in anticipation, my pet. Just like the whore you are, flashing their desperate holes for me to fill." He accompanies his degrading words with another smack on the ass, making you shake more. "Tell me how much you like this."

You whimper, biting at the bed sheets, your skin throbbing from all the whips. And yet, you find yourself mumbling, "I like it, sir."

"Good." You know he's happy and that makes you happy for some odd reason. "I like a vocal pet, so tell me if it's ever too much."

You like the way he sneaks in little bits of consent, so you reassure him by being a brat, "it's not enough. You need to be rougher."

Din laughs warmly at your words and goes, "gladly, my pet."

That's when you feel a toy at your entrance. You're unsure which toy it is but all you know is that it slips into you with ease, filling you up. You chew on your cheek because you haven't been fucked in a while, so having something inside of you is an adjustment.

"Hold onto that for me, okay?" He gently kneads your ass where he had whipped it, comforting you so that you ease up around the toy. "That's it, good pet."

He rewards you by sliding his hand downward, finding your clit once again. He rubs it between his fingertips, the leather of his gloves providing that texture you needed, and you're trembling at how good it feels.

"Breathe, don't panic." He warns you ahead of time as he lays down the riding crop beside you and picks up something else.

Something wet and cold because that's how it feels when he pours it over your ass. You tense up when you feel his other hand swirling around the rim of your empty hole, teasing the sensitive skin.

"You can tell me to stop if you don't want it." Din is willing to back away if you truly are panicked but strangely, you aren't. You don't mind letting him explore all of you, especially because the thrill of it makes it feel even better.

You decide the best course of action is to not admit it outright. That would give him too much power, plus it would ruin the fear play in your mind. So, you answer instead, "I didn't realize you were such a softie. I guess it isn't yours if you have to ask for permission."

You've dug your grave with that one because Din doesn't hesitate after that. He presses his thumb against the rim and slowly pushes his way inside of you as his other hand plays with your clit. All three sensations combined send you into a state of pure euphoria and your orgasm builds easily.

"You must really like it rough." He berates you as he starts to thrust his thumb into your ass slowly, stretching you out there. "You're about to come from this, aren't you? Ask me nicely and I'll let you this time."

You're squirming, wishing you could move your arms, but the ropes dig into your skin every time you try which adds to the whole experience. You're growing more and more impatient, since his movements are slow and purposeful. They aren't enough to send you into the state of bliss you desire and your willpower is weaning.

Eventually, you give in and tell him, "please let me come."

He continues to insult you, saying, "you really want to come with my thumb in your ass, my filthy little pet?"

And you love every bit of his harshness, "yes, sir."

All it takes is a few precise circles on your clit and you're drenching the bed sheets from your nonstop orgasms. You just keep coming, your slick covering your thighs now from how aroused you are. Your moans echo through the room and you can't help yourself. It feels too good…and you want more.

You want him, all of him.

Maybe that's why, in your daze, you beg, "please, sir, I want you now."

"Oh, but I don't think you're ready for me." He taunts you as his hand grasps the toy inside of you, pulling it out just a bit before thrusting it deep inside of you, sending shivers through you. "You can barely handle this toy. How are you supposed to handle me?"

"I can take it." You plead. "Please."

"I want to hear you say it, properly."

You swallow, knowing he wants you to completely embarrass yourself and submit to him. But, you aren't that good at being submissive, so you purposely annoy him, "you'd rather I be filled with toys than your cock? That's typical. I bet you don't even have a cock, do you, Din?"

You threw his name in there just to be a little bitch, testing the fact that you didn't call him sir. He does not like that very much because he grabs the riding crop and whips you ten times in rapid succession, drawing a scream from the depths of your stomach. Your eyes are watering from the pain and you enjoy it a little too much.

"Fine, if you want to be treated like a hole to be fucked, I'll give you what you want." He's angry now and you can't say you don't love the aggression in his voice.

So, Din grabs you by the chain around your throat, forcing you upright, choking you slightly. Then, you feel him pull the toy out of you completely and something warm lines up at your entrance instead. All the while, his thumb is rubbing the rim of your ass, reminding you that it's there, tormenting you with the possibility of slipping in at any moment.

And, it does, at the exact same time his cock thrusts inside of you. His thumb forces its way into your ass once again and you gasp at the feeling of being filled like this, though the gasp doesn't register since he's choking you with your collar.

"Now, be a good pet and come on my cock while I use your holes the way I want to." His voice is so commanding that you can't help but come the moment his hips meet yours, filling you up completely with his cock. "There you go, it feels good to be used, doesn't it?"

When you don't answer, he tugs at the chain around your neck more, pulling you further upright until you can hear him growl right into your ear.

"Answer me."

"Yes, sir. It feels so good." You spit out the words as best you can with the amount of air you've been given and he releases the chain then, letting you breathe as you drop back onto the bed.

"It'll feel better once I use this." He pulls his thumb away from you so that he can fill you up with something else. A metal plug that fits perfectly inside of your ass now that he's opened you up. It isn't until it's all the way in that you notice the fuzzy tip of it brushing along your ass. "My, my, now you really are my precious pet, wagging your tail for me in delight."

You never thought you'd be into pet play like this but the way he makes it seem so wrong to be his pet shows you that you might have discovered a new kink of yours. You like how he degrades you while he praises you. The excitement of it all makes you crave another orgasm.

So, you do what you know he'd want you to and you ask politely, "please, sir, will you fuck me until I come again?"

"You're so needy, as any pet would be for a treat." He couples his demeaning words with another smack of the riding crop. "Maybe I've gone too easy on you. If you want your orgasm, why don't you give yourself one?"

Din pulls out of you then and before you can whine, he sits down on the bed and tugs you onto his lap, guiding his cock to your entrance. You dare to look down to sneak a peek of him but he catches you by the collar before you can.

"Do you want to get punished again?" He threatens and you shake your head, not wanting your orgasm to be denied. "Then no looking."

"I'm sorry, sir. I won't look, I promise."

"As a show of faith, I'll untie you." Din quickly undoes the ropes, letting your arms free. "Now, you'll have the leverage to ride me as much as you want. Come as many times as you'd like, my pet. This is my treat to you."

You feel shy facing him like this, since you're wearing nothing but the collar now and he's fully clothed with his armor still on. The cold beskar rubs against your inner thighs as you slide down onto his cock, shocked at the way he seems even bigger from this angle.

"You swallow me up so well, like your hole was made for me." You will never get used to the way his praises sound like insults, though you like it all the same. "I hope I'll get to play with this other hole soon."

Din grips your ass as his other hand plays with the rim of the plug, tickling you with the fuzz of the tail. You're going insane over how erotic this whole experience has been. You've never played out an entire scene like this before but now you crave more of it.

"Soon." You say with a nod, not wanting this to be the last time. "You own me, remember?"

"Someone's learning their place as my pet." He praises you, rubbing your back kindly. "I'll be sure to spoil you with lots of treats."

"Thank you, sir." You're giddy over his warm words.

"Make yourself come like this and I'll fuck you all night, alright?" He urges you to start riding him so you do, milking his cock as best you can.

You wish you could see his face, but you'll just work off the sounds of pleasure he's making. You're glad that you can make him feel good now too, so you focus on finding a pace that gets him going too. You like hearing the huffs and puffs that sneak through the modulator when he's feeling good.

So, you rile him up a little more, wanting to give him what he wanted earlier, "wrap your hands around my neck and squeeze until I'm begging for mercy."

"Are you telling me what to do?" Oh, there it is, that aggression you're starting to get desperate for. "I guess my pet hasn't learned their place."

You hate how easily he can make you come from just a simple action because he lifts you off of his cock smoothly before turning you around until you're sitting on his lap in the other direction. Then, he guides his cock back inside of you before tugging the chain around your neck until you're upright. You clench around his cock the moment he rams it back inside, forcing you to squirt all over it from the roughness. His helmet rests on your shoulder and you can hear clearly every breath he takes and he can hear how you can barely breathe, your orgasm overtaking your mind.

"Ride me." He demands with a growl in your ear. "I won't let you breathe until you do."

From this angle, the plug in your ass noticeably moves every time you lift your hips to ride his cock. The fullness on both ends swirls your mind and you're practically drooling from how good it feels, which is why Din guides his other hand up to your mouth. You eagerly part your lips, letting him rest his fingers inside as you bite and suck on them.

"I like it when you behave." He drops the chain, and you inhale deeply through your nose since your mouth is preoccupied. "Let's give you a nice treat for being a good pet."

You wonder what he means, since you can't fathom what more he can do, but then you hear a little buzz and the moment you feel the vibrator on your clit, you gush out all over his cock again, whimpering with his fingers lodged in your mouth. It doesn't end because he holds the vibrator there, drawing circles with it along your clit, and you're drowning in ecstasy.

Din pulls his fingers from your mouth so that he can grab a hold of your chin, turning you to face his visor and he asks, "who owns you?"

"You do, sir." You manage to get out before a scream overtakes you, since he ups the intensity of the vibe on your clit. "I'm going to come again if you keep–"

"Hush." He clamps your jaw shut so you can't say another word. "You're my whore, remember? So you're going to come as much as I want you to. You don't get a choice here, so if you want me to stop, you better beg for it."

You've never came this much before and your whole body is reeling from the constant stimulation. You're constantly being thrown over the edge and you're fully committing to it. That's why you slowly submit to him the way he wants you to and suddenly, you're a whining mess, your pleads spilling out of your mouth all slurred and raspy from your moans. You keep begging for him to stop, you keep mumbling the word please over and over again, and you keep coming each time he refuses to listen. It's heavenly and you wouldn't want it any other. You like every second of this treatment.

You like Din, a lot.

So, when you're throbbing from the over-stimulation and he finally gives you a break to recharge, you whisper, "I like being yours, Din."

"You've always been mine, from the moment you first stole my bounty." He softly caresses your cheek with his hand and you swear, you could feel the smile on his face then. "You'll always be mine."

"Prove it." You pull the plug out and toss the vibrator aside, wanting to have regular, intimate sex with him without any other distractions. "Hold me, please."

And, he does, all night long.

As much as you love the rougher, kinker sex, there's something wonderful about the slow strokes he does to help you get used to the size of his cock. He's gentle and you're starting to get used to the feeling of beskar pressed up against your skin. You don't mind this one bit. You even let him come inside of you and you can tell he likes the fact that he can safely, since you're on the club's birth control. Din fucks you until there's not a single drop left inside of him, all of his warmth pooling between your legs.

You fall asleep somewhere along the way, the orgasms lulling you to a restful slumber. You gave all of yourself to him and you dream of a year from now when you'll be all his completely.

When you wake, you're surprised he's still here. You're also surprised you're dressed in your usual sleepwear and you've been cleaned up, no sticky residue leftover from the night before.

"Did you…bathe me?"

"I did."

You want to ask why but the smell of food interrupts your thoughts. Wait…did the Mandalorian cook you breakfast too?

"I didn't know you could cook." You hop out of bed and over to the small kitchenette you have.

"Only simple things, but I try." He places some pancakes on a plate for you, handing it to you. "Eat, you must be hungry."

"Starved." You say with a chuckle. "I worked up quite the appetite last night."

Din shares your laugh and you oddly enjoy the domesticity of this. It'd be nice if this was always how it was. You've missed waking up beside someone.

You scarf down your food along with a cup of caf and by the end of it, Din is still there, having washed your dishes and your bed sheets.

Oh, right, the sheets…you sort of made a mess of those last night, didn't you?

The wilder moments of the night before warm your skin and you try to shake off the naughty thoughts. It's a little too early for that, though you do blame the fact that Din fucked you fully clothed so now whenever you see him, you immediately remember the way he felt on top of you.

You'll wait patiently for the day where you get to be the one to strip him. That'll be a very fun day.

"What are you smiling about?" He catches your happy expression as you glance over at him making your bed for you.

"I like you, Din." You feel a bit bashful admitting it aloud. "That's what I was smiling about."

"You only like me?" He puts his hands on his hips rather dramatically and laughter erupts from you at the sight, to which he shares soon enough. "You look great when you laugh."

"Is that why you let me make fun of you all the time?" You tease him, but he actually nods in response.

"I had to get you to stick by my side somehow. Why else would I let you take my bounties without a fight?"

"Oh, you're funny." You don't believe for a second that the Mandalorian has been letting you steal his bounties because he had a crush on you…unless? "Wait, are you serious?"

"Maybe." He jabs back at you and you throw your fork at him, which he catches with ease. "Don't play with your food."

"Can I play with you?" You smirk and he walks over to you, hovering beside you all menacingly. You give him your best starry eye look and go, "please, sir?"

"My pet really is greedy for treats. You need to finish your breakfast and then maybe I'll consider it." He places your fork back down on the table and you chuckle, nodding in agreement.

You obediently eat the rest of your pancakes, which were surprisingly good, and then Din drags you back into bed. Though, this time, you both just cuddle and it's very peaceful. With your head on his chest, you imagine this being your life and it's nice.

"I wish you didn't have to go." The words leave your lips in a quiet whisper.

"Who says I'm leaving?" His words make you raise an eyebrow.

"What do you mean?"

Din shifts his helmet towards you, patting your head gently as he explains, "why don't I stay here with you? Is there any policy against having a roommate?"

"A roommate." You snicker at the thought of calling your rival your roommate.

"Answer the question." He wants you to focus.

So, you think of the other inhabitants who live here at the club and you tell him, "the only couples who live here work together. You know, like tag team play."

"Then, why don't we do that?" Din's joking…right?

"You want to work here too?" You're shocked if that's true.

"As long as I don't have to take off my armor, I wouldn't mind. Though, I'd like it if we stuck to dominating clients together. I don't want anyone else having power over you except for me." He bargains with you and you can't believe what you're hearing right now.

"We'll have to get it approved with the Mistress." That's the owner of the club, who also schedules all the play sessions.

"I'm sure we can convince her that time with a Mandalorian is very valuable." He's a very confident person, isn't he?

"As long as you save some of that energy for me after our sessions, I'd like that if it meant staying with you." You snuggle up closer to him and then whisper, "especially if you make me breakfast every morning."

"I'll have to learn new recipes then." Din leans his visor against your forehead, the metal cooling off your warm face. "Thanks for letting me stay."

"Thanks for not wanting to go." You give him a kiss on his helmet.

Who would've guessed this whole session would start with the Mandalorian requesting you at your side job and now it ends with him working with you? Life is funny like that, and you're thrilled it has worked out like this.

Maybe there's an interesting play session in your future…or more incredibly daring sex with Din. Either way, you're excited for what's in store.

A/N: Wow, what a banger, literally! I love writing kinky play, it's so fun to experiment creating a scene like this in the comfortable space of fiction. I'm actually a pretty avid collector of toys so being able to integrate some things into my writing was a blast! I love hard doms a lot, especially when they sneak in just a little bit of softness, it's delectable!

Will I ever write more of this particular scenario? I might! It would be a fun way to explore other kinks so if there's interest, maybe I will! I really enjoyed writing this one so I hope y'all enjoyed the read hehe ~ ♡

If you liked my writing and would like to read more, check out my pinned post! Also, if you'd like to join my taglist, use my google forms link: here!