#and they were good so fingers crossed altogether its good

[kawaiianimeredhead]

Tried to make heart shaped peppermint patties for a work party tomorrow. Made a decent mess of the kitchen but they have been made

[mickyschumacher]

𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐌𝐘𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐅 .ೃ࿐

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: charles leclerc, at the end of the day, is a simple man. so of course, when you show up to the annual f1 dinner dressed like a goddess, it becomes impossibly hard for charles to keep his hands to himself.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: 18+ (minors DNI), established bf/gf relation, reader has a vagina, semi-public fingering, breeding kink (?), cum fetish, creampie, p in v, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it, folks!), edging, orgasm denial

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: charles leclerc x gf!fem!reader

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 2k+

𝐀/𝐍: first post ahhhh... this was proof read but i wouldn't put it past me to have a few errors. hope you like it! ♡︎

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

⋆  •°.  。  .°•  ⋆

"Merde (shit)," Charles swore under his breath as he caught you finishing up.

You raised a brow at him through the mirror of your bedroom. Putting on your earrings, you asked, "What's wrong, Charles?"

You watched through the mirror as Charles walked up behind you. He gave a small smile to you, resting his shin on your bare shoulder and wrapping his arms around your waist. You returned a warm smile, leaning into him and resting your hands over his.

He pinched the silk fabric in his hands. "Can I convince you to change dresses?"

A small frown made its way onto your face while you mended your brows together. "Why? You don't like it?" You queried while eyeing yourself in the mirror. You thought you looked quite good.

It was a silk dress in pure white. It had its spaghetti straps that connected to the bunch of white silk hanging around your chest as the rest of the silk clung to you body, fitting each on of your curves snuggly. On the right side of your body, the dress had a slit for your leg to peak through. On the back, the spaghetti straps cross over each other as the fabric hung loose around your lower back.

You had paired it with a necklace Charles had got you for your anniversary: a thin gold chain with a small gold plated heart-shaped ruby. Your hair was also down and styled with a few soft curls that complimented your face.

Altogether, it was simple yet beautiful.

Your eyes snapped to your boyfriend who released a soft chuckle. Charles' eyes twinkled in the light. "Quite the opposite. I love it too much," he whispered into your ear as he rubbed the side of the your hip.

Your felt your breath slow incredibly fast, feeling his lips trail up your neck with small kisses. "Charles," you softly warned. You weren't necessarily complaining. You and Charles often had your hands on each other to the point where one might even say it was sickening. You didn't even have a bra on under the dress. But you both had somewhere to be.

Charles let out a small hum, meeting your eyes in the mirror. He bought his hand out, tracing your lips with his thumb. "Yes, mon amour (my love)?" He asked with feigned innocence.

Your eyes narrowed. "You can't start now. We're going to be late if you keep this up."

Charles pursed his lips, pouting as he turned you around to face him. He pushed your hair behind your ears. "Who cares? We can have dinner here. Just you and me. Doesn't that sound nice, amour (love)? I even know what I want for dessert."

You felt him pull you closer into him, his lips hovering over yours as his hand trailed up and down your leg.

You felt a grin play onto your face. You leaned closer, feeling impossibly close to him. "Oh Charles," You trailed you finger over his lip, in which he clearly invited the gesture as he bought your finger into his mouth. "In your dreams," you deadpanned, abruptly taking your finger out of his mouth and placing a kiss on his cheek.

You let out a sigh, pushing aside your own arousal. "Now come on. We need to leave."

━━━━━━━━━━━

Charles was not a happy man, to say the least. You had practically blueballed him and despite being thirty minutes into dinner, plus the twenty minute drive to the restaurant, all he could think of is you.

You were sat next to him, conversing with Lily, Alex's girlfriend, about her job as a professional golfer. A job that required a lot more training and thought than you had previously thought. Honestly, you were having a such great time that you hadn't realised you were even neglecting your on-the-edge boyfriend until you felt a hand on your right leg.

"Charles, you good?" You asked.

Charles wanted to laugh because you had asked in so much earnest. Like you had genuinely forgot. Of course, he wasn't one to let you forget.

You felt him tug your chair both closer to the table, so the laced table drapes covered you, and to him. His hand moved from your leg to receive the the warmth of your inner upper thigh.

You looked at him almost dumbfounded. "Charles, amour, no," you said through gritted teeth as you gave him a fake smile. It's not that you didn't want to, but how were you supposed to act normal for the whole dinner? Especially when you and Charles both knew what his fingers did to you.

Charles only sported a grin on his face. His fingers continued to creep up your thigh, nearing your white laced underwear, which you had worn for the sole purpose of matching your dress, of course.

Your breathed hitched as you felt his fingers skim over your underwear. Your skin, he could tell, was beginning to burn with heat as it glistened with small traces of sweat. Whether it was out of embarrassment or arousal, hell, or both, Charles didn't care. Whatever was going on, he enjoyed it.

His fingers slid under your panties and found themselves in the heats of your soft lips of your pussy. His teeth sunk into his bottom lip. You were soaked down there. His two fingers already felt drenched. Charles knew that this hadn't just appeared out of nowhere. "Ma belle (my beautiful), be honest with me. You've been wet since you teased me in your bedroom, right? All of this... for me..."

If the slight quiver of your walls near his fingers didn't give you the answer, you sure did with a curt nod. How were you supposed to feel nothing for this blue-eyed, dimpled man who looked good in everything, but especially a suit?

Charles smiled. "That's what I thought. Thank you for being so honest, ma belle. I think that deserves an award," he whispered.

You felt yourself still at his voice as his fingers trailed over your clit a few times before he pushed them into your pussy. You pressed your lips together, suppressing the moan that so desperately wanted to escape your throat.

Charles couldn't help but grin further, darting his eyes from the conversation he was partially in with Carlos and Lando and to the glorious sight underneath the table. He couldn't entirely see your pussy but god could he imagine. You enveloping his fingers entirely as he thrusted back and forth. The trickles of your body running down his fingers.

He cleared his throat, taking a sip of his champagne as he adjusted himself. He was growing hard as every second passed. As much as he loved teasing you and fingering you... he wanted to fuck you. He wanted to watch as his cock entered you... the ring of white you made around him... your hips bucking for more... fuck.

You clenched around his fingers, feeling a pit at your stomach grow. You let out the shakiest and quietest sigh known to Earth. There was no way Charles was about to let cum with some of your closest friends around you... surely...

The answer to that qualm was a 'no' as Charles' fingers started to speed up. Jesus.

You must've been flushed to the max as you had to awkwardly laugh off Pierre's comment to "lay off the champagne". Honestly, that was your limit.

Before you could get any closer to your climax and risk losing it in front of everybody, you placed a hand on Charles' crotch, making him still his fingers and flicker his eyes to you.

His eyes hardened as you slowly rubbed him through his pants. "Charles, if you continue any further, I swear to god, I will blueball you till the end of the week. Let's be patient, okay, sweetie?" The sickly sweet smile on your face was in a hard contrast compared to the harsh whispers falling from your lips.

Charles' tongue darted out his lips and fell to the side. He rested his hand on yours and patted it gently. Although, to anyone, such a promise sounded empty. He was sure you would do it. It happened all the time even unintentionally. He placed a small kiss to your cheek. With a calm composure and through gritted teeth, he murmured, "Okay, mon amour."

━━━━━━━━━━━

The ride back home was impossibly and scarily quiet. There was a lot of tension in the car. The both of you were still hooked on the adrenaline of risking yourselves in public and still horny as ever. Evident as Charles had applied more pressure to the accelerator and the cars nearby went from blurs to dashing streaks.

You were opening the door to your house as you felt Charles’ arms wrap around you. "Faster, mon amour, I can't keep my hands to myself," he whispered, starting kiss your neck.

You felt your heart pick up its pace when you heard the door click closed. Soon enough, both of your shoes were off, Charles' lips were crashing into yours, and your hands were in his hair. The fire between you two had reached a new height as Charles relished the moan that had fallen from your mouth. God, he had been waiting to hear that the entire dinner.

Bringing you back into your bedroom, Charles left kisses everywhere he could as he peeled back the straps of your dress, and gently removed the attired off your body, leaving you only clothed in your soaked panties and his necklace.

"Fuck," he groaned, hovering over you to hold the necklace between his fingers. "You look so good, mon amour."

The smile on your lips made his heart race once again. He smiled, planting a firm kiss on your lips before his hands started to trail down to your chest. Your breasts were what he considered a global treasure in his world, you. He loved everything about them; their softness, their plumpness... but especially, their sensitivity.

Charles latched his mouth around one nipple, leaving his hand to the other. His tongue swirled around the pebbled mound as his fingers circled the other.

You let out a sigh of pleasure, arching your back and raising your hand to feel his hair to push more of yourself into him. The obscene slurps of your breasts went straight to your core as Charles released your nipple with a slick pop.

"Ma belle," Charles breathed out, his fingers reaching your soaked panties. He pulled the drenched material away from your heated pussy. "I need to taste you," he spoke, himself drenched in desperation.

He pulled down the panties, revealing in all its glory, the pussy he had been thirsting over at dinner. He let out a moan as he prodded at your engorged lips.

You feel a shiver come over your body when his breath hit your pussy. His tongue took one long strip at your folds. His blues eyes averted back to yours, holding your gaze and blossoming an indescribable feeling within the both of you. "Look at me, love, while I devour you."

You managed to give a small nod as he returned his attention to your folds, all while maintaining eye contact. "Fuck," you moaned out, trying hard to not throw your head back as he dipped his mouth into you. It seemed that was still hungry from the dinner as he was true to his promise.

Charles was devouring you almost as if he were some sort of animal. He groaned in pleasure, sending a sort of vibrations through your core. He continuously lapped at your folds, drunk on the taste of you. "You taste so good," he grunted, bringing his lips around your clit.

You arched your back into the bed, toes curling at the sheets beneath you. "Fuck, Charles!" You bucked your hips into his mouth, giving into the need to roll your head back. When you looked back up, Charles was a sight to behold. His tongue traveled in circles around your sensitive nub. His stubble was soaked in your juices. He somehow even managed a smirk while eating you out.

"Charles... I'm gonna-" you began before cutting out as his tongue darted further into your folds. "God," you moaned out, your grip on his hair tightening.

"Don't say my name in vain, mon amour," Charles quipped, feeling a slight convulsion of your body as he thumbed your clit.

If Charles wasn't about to make you cum, you would've smacked that grin right off his face. But you were so close...

Charles placed a light kiss to your clit, removing his face from your pussy. He felt a sense of enjoyment follow him as a familiar terror spread over your face.

"No. Charles. Please. God, I want to cum," You whined out.

Charles looked at your flushed face, pushing your hair behind your ears like he did earlier this evening. Somehow, you had become even more beautiful. On the verge of a climax, fucked out, skin flushed and doused in arousal and sweat.

"I need to be in you... fuck, to fill you up, Y/N," Charles hissed in pleasure as he thought about his cum oozing from your hole.

"Hurry, Charles. I need you."

That was all you had to said as Charles rushed to finally take off his clothes.

You watched his thick cock hit his toned stomach and let out a small moan. Charles hovered over you, bringing you into a deep kiss. You could feel his cock nudge the sides of the pussy. Purposely, he dragged himself up and down your folds, intoxicated off the edging feeling.

"Fuck, Charles."

God, he loved the way you moaned his name. It was one of those other things that sent him overboard. Knowing that he was making you feel like that. That it was his cock teasing you. His fingers you clenched around. His voice that made you wet.

Charles looked down to your pussy, aligning his cock. He let out a ridiculously low grunt as he watched your folds cover his cock. You fit him so perfectly, it drove him crazy. His cock was snug and tight in you. It felt like one move in you would send him off.

You let out another moan, feeling his thick cock fill you up. His hands gripped your hips, turning you around so you sat on him. "Ride me, love."

There was nothing Charles wanted more than to see you ride his cock, tits bouncing up and down in sync with his your necklace. And you were happy to comply.

You began to move your hips, hearing the room begin to fill with groans.

"Y/N," Charles moaned, hips bucking to dive deeper into you.

You continued to ride at a semi-fast pace. Lewd sounds of your skin slapping and sticking against one another filled the air. You could feel his cock reach into the deepest parts of you.

Charles sunk his teeth into his lips, watching a white ring form around his cock. The twinkle of your necklace shone in his eyes, occasionally hitting your nipples as it swung around. It was all so much.

You could feel Charles' cock twitch in you, telling you he was close. You grabbed his hands and placed on them on your hips. Your own hands latched onto your breast and the other to your clit.

Charles tightened his grip on your hips before starting to thrust at an immense speed. "Merde," he swore, feeling you clench and take even more of him in you. He could catch the slight shake of your hands as you also neared your climax.

"Come with me, amour. Let me fill you with my cum," he groaned.

That dirty mouth of his and his rousing cock... it was enough to send you over the edge. You let out a high-pitched moan, the end almost silent as your orgasm hit you in hard waves. "Fuck, Charles!"

Charles followed you soon. He moaned, bring you down and holding you tightly. This new angle sent you both into a new spiral. His hips stuttered at an abnormal pace, feeling his cum paint your walls. He let out a string of colourful words, letting his orgasm take any extra drops of his cum into you.

Charles smiled, kissing the side of your forehead. "You did well, mon armour."

You gave him a tired smile. "You too, my love," you murmured before bringing him into a soft and lazy kiss.

Charles watched as you removed yourself from his cock. Only resulting him in a moan from the both of you as his cum trailed out of you.

"God," Charles gulped, feeling his cock harden once again.

You smirked. "I thought you were God, Charles," you teased.

Charles narrowed his eyes at you. "I guess I'm going to have to show you again, ma belle."

© 𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐘𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐌𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑

[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

[silentglassbreak]

Anonymous

Noah Sebastian x OFC

Alright folks, I think I’m on the other side of this cold. Which unfortunately means I am back at work. Things are going to start getting more serious here, so bear with me.

Moving forward, each chapter will have its own warnings above the normal, so just keep an eye out. As always, thank you for reading. ☺️

Warnings: Alcohol abuse, overall abuse, mild violence (ie. bar fights), smut, swearing, and altogether just a lot of fuckery. **STRONG TRIGGER WARNING FOR SA** Please proceed w/ caution.

+It goes without saying. This is a work of fiction. My words are mine. Plagiarism is a crime.

Taglist: @flowery-mess

Part 8 - Limits

Three months is not a long time. Not long enough for me to drink in the relationship that now was encompassing the vast majority of my life. I still had my job, my meetings, my daily walks with Angel…but everything else was Noah.

Nights watching movies with him. Days going to his house and just existing while he sat in his studio making music. Standing backstage at random pop up shows they did. Morning showers. Evening cuddles. Very late night sex. Sex all the time? Noah had an incredible sex drive and I was along for the ride.

But today, this truly horrific day, was his last day before he left again on tour. It was panic day. And I couldn’t get out of work. He leaves in the morning for Houston, and is absolutely losing his mind with anxiety.

My phone was going to vibrate off of my desk, so I slipped it into the top drawer and turned my attention back to the clients in front of me.

“I’m so sorry about that, where were we?”

The young couple sat in the chairs in front of my desk, their expression cool and positive. They radiated happiness, love. Jared and Sarah Miller, newlyweds, and visibly elated to be buying their first home. Sarah’s belly sat heavy in her lap, thirty-six weeks into her pregnancy with their first baby.

Their house was closing next week, so we needed to discuss what all needed to be done prior and run their one last statement check.

“You can take that, if you need Mileena. We don’t mind waiting.” Sarah smiled at me warmly, and I felt a tug in my chest when I heard my phone vibrate again.

“Oh, it’s fi-“ Before I could finish, it stopped vibrating, only to begin again half a second later. “Uhm…”

I opened my drawer, looking down to see Noah’s face flashing once again.

“I’m so sorry, it’s my boyfriend. It may be an emergency if he’s calling this much.”

Jared stood up. “No worries! We can run to the car and get Sarah’s snacks, if you don’t mind we eat in here?”

I shook my head. “Not at all! I’ll only be a second.”

“Take your time.” Sarah chirped before they walked out of the office, the door latching behind them.

I slid the newest call open. “Why aren’t you answering?! Are you dying?!”

I had to pull the phone from my ear due to the sheer volume of his voice. “Noah, I’m at work. Not dying.”

“Oh.” His voice calmed down instantly. “Good, because I almost got worried.”

I snorted. “Almost? You’ve called me like, a hundred times!”

He chuckled. “It’s panic day?” He said defensively.

“Panic day or not, babe. I’m with clients.”

“Fuck! I’m sorry. I should’ve known.”

I glanced at my computer screen to a new Teams message.

Sam: Saw your clients left. Wanna get lunch?

I cringed.

Me: They’re coming back. And no, eating in.

I saw the indication he was typing pop up, but disappear a moment later with no new message.

“Listen, babe,” I brought my attention back to Noah. “How about I go to your place after work? I can grab food on the way?”

“I really should focus.”

I laughed. “Cause you’re doing such a great job.”

“You’re right.”

“I’ll see you about six. Love you.”

“Love you too, babe.”

And we ended the call right as Jared and Sarah walked back in.

I smiled widely and took a breath. “Crisis averted. Now, let’s get you guys this house.”

-

I sat cross-legged on Noah’s bed, pulling potstickers from the paper box in my hand. Noah was chewing on his food while his fingers clacked at his keyboard, sending last minute emails to his tour manager.

Rick and Morty played on the television, and I idly watched it while letting him have his space. ‘Just having you here makes me feel more calm’ is what he told me, so I’m just existing, letting him have his panic in peace.

Noah had gone to my house this afternoon and picked up Angel after we talked, bringing him back to his place so I didn’t have to stop home after work. I was almost convinced he loved that dog more than me. I’m okay with that.

Noah turned, chow mein noodle hanging out of his lips. I chuckled at the sight, and he turned his lips up in a goofy smile. He slurped the noodle in his mouth and licked his lips. As silly as he is, he’s still absolutely breathtaking.

His muscle shirt showed his arms that were slowly becoming more defined every time I really looked at them. Noah had been filling free time he had going to Muay Thai and Boxing classes, trying to keep off any unnecessary pounds he may put on from his sugar intake. The results were becoming…difficult to not appreciate.

“You done?”

He nodded, leaning back in his chair. “I think so. Nothing left to do but sleep.”

I nodded, satisfied. “Good.” I glanced at my watch, noticing it was already seven-thirty. The first forty-five minutes of me being here was spent trying to calm the anxiety and help him find his favorite jacket that somehow ended up in Jolly’s laundry hamper.

“We’ve got to head out in about an hour.”

His lips turned down in a frown. “Why?”

“I’ve got work in the morning, and you’re leaving at 4 in the morning. You need sleep.”

“Nuh-uh.”

I raised my eyebrow at him. “Noah, unless you have a show, you can barely stay conscious past 10PM. You still have to shower.”

He shrugged. “Don’t care.”

“Mkay, well I care. Because I also have to shower and decompress before bed.” I stood off the bed and piled the empty food containers into the bag they came in, walking it over to the garbage can.

“Take this out tonight, or it’ll be awful when you get back.”

He just stared at me, a look I couldn’t quite place on his face. It made me shift my weight under me, unsure of how to react.

“What? Do I have soy sauce on me?” I wiped at my face, but he just shook his head.

“No.” He then sighed heavily. “We’re going to be gone longer this time.”

My heart pulled. He was right. He’d be gone two and a half months this time, which shouldn’t be long, right? Three months went by so fast…

“I know. But, I’ll be at the show here in October. And you’ll be home a week after that, just in time for your birthday.”

He chewed his bottom lip. I walked over to him, stopping directly in front of his chair.

“Then we’ll spend the holidays together.” I wrapped my arms around his neck, his head leaning into my chest, his arms swallowing my waist. “Christmas, New Year, Thanksgiving.”

He would be going back on tour at the end of January, so we had to take what we could get.

“Can’t you just come with me?”

I chuckled. “I wish, baby.”

I pulled my arms back, gripping either side of his neck to bring his face up to mine, placing a soft kiss on his lips. His arms tightened around me and a soft moan hummed out of him.

“Now,” I pulled my face back and pushed him back into his chair. “sit there quietly, and let me give you your parting gift.”

I sunk down to my knees and watched while he lifted his brows at me, narrowing his eyes.

“Since when do I do what you tell me?” His tone was apprehensive.

I gazed up at him through my lashes, doing my best to look innocent while my hands unzipped his jeans.

“Since I have something you want.” I very dramatically licked my lips, leaving excess saliva on my bottom lip for effect.

He pursed his lips, and gave a curt nod of his head.

“Fair enough.”

-

I was wrong. I was so wrong. Two-and a half months was crawling. I would assume it felt that way since it had only been two weeks, but it felt like a year.

I had just hung up the phone, Noah having to head into sound check. My lunch break was close to over, so I was already sitting behind my desk, scrolling through emails while I waited for my next client to make their appointment.

My desk phone chimed, and I grabbed the receiver.

“Kline Home Lending, this is Mileena?”

“Are you not logged in to Teams?” Sam’s voice was sharp on the other end.

“I’m on lunch. I haven’t taken Do Not Disturb off yet.”

“Lex wants to see us. Didn’t say why. We need to go now.”

I straightened my back and checked the time. I only had twenty minutes until my next appointment. That didn’t matter, though. When Lex called, you went. He was the President of Kline, and he didn’t make appearances often.

I shot my client a quick text to wait for me in the lobby if I wasn’t back as I walked down the hallway behind Sam toward Lex’s office.

“What do you think he wants?”

Same didn’t turn to respond. “Don’t know. He just asked to see us two.”

What could he possibly need? I kept my nose down, sold my loans, and kept it pushing. I didn’t make waves. Sam, on the other hand…

“Ah! Thank you both for coming on short notice. I won’t keep you too long.”

Sam and I each took a seat in front of Lex’s desk. Our boss, a tall, older man with white hair and his shirt unbuttoned the top two buttons, stood up and rounded the desk, leaning against it.

“I’m certain you don’t know why I’ve brought you here.” We both just nodded. “Right, well I’ll get straight to it.”

He went back to his chair, sitting down and waking his computer. “I assume you’re both familiar with Shamrock Lending?”

“Aren’t they the company that just declared bankruptcy?” I furrowed my brow, my question making him nod.

“Nearly. They’ve backed out of that.” Sam and I looked at each other inquisitively. “We’re absorbing them, including their employees and client base.”

“Why?” Sam sounded unamused.

“Shamrock maintained a prestigious client-base and had great word of mouth. The pandemic killed the business, and with them having been such a small company to begin with, it didn’t cost us much. And now we can retain their clientele, including their celebrity accounts.” He had his chin resting in his hands. “They sold Kelly Clarkson a house last year.”

Sam snorted. “So, what does that have to do with us?”

I had to forcibly not roll my eyes at his disrespectful attitude.

Lex looked intrigued, staring directly at Sam.

“I’m glad you asked, Samuel.” The sound of his full name made Sam visibly straighten. “We need to do something to boost morale for their employees. Shamrock was a family-owned company so most of their staff are…less than thrilled at coming over to Kline.”

“I could understand that.” I empathized.

“Exactly. So we are going to arrange for a company event, something to lighten the spirits. Eating, drinking, and overall merriment.” He pointed at us. “Oh, and live music! That always gets people excited.”

He stood again. “I need you both to organize it. You’re my top performers, so I trust you both to be able to arrange something within the next week or so.”

My eyes widened. We had to what?!

“With all due respect sir, but when you say organize?”

“Find a venue, get catering, hire a band, all that jazz.”

“My family has an estate on a vineyard in Escondido. Perfect for this.” Sam was now smiling confidently. Kiss ass.

Lex snapped. “Wonderful! We need this ready happen by the end of September. The merge is effective as of October 1st.”

I’m so fucked.

-

The following seven days had been a blur. A long, exhausting, frustrating blur. I had to reschedule so many appointments so Sam and I could work on the event.

Venue was no issue, but we needed catering, entertainment, staff, decorations, which is what Sam and I were currently arguing over.

The amount of arguing we had done over the last week had drained everything out of me. Spending this much time with him was absolutely ungodly. He was so difficult to tolerate, his bravado and over enthusiastic flirting got so far under my skin I could feel it in my bones.

“We need a theme!”

“It’s not junior prom, Sam! We don’t need casino night!”

He scoffed, pacing over the floor in my office while I sat, my fingertips rubbing my temples.

“So it’s just a ‘Hey we get you hate us, but get drunk and have salmon’ party?!’

We were interrupted by the door opening, Chrissy, the janitor, coming to clean my office.

“Oh! I’m sorry. I thought you guys were gone.” She backed out and closed the door.

“Jesus Christ, what time is it?” I checked my watch. “Ugh, it’s already seven. I’ve got to go.”

“No, no, we need to finish this. The event is in three days.” He pulled his phone out. “I’m ordering some pizza.”

I stood up in protest. “As fun as that sounds, I’ve got to go walk my dog. Or he’ll piss in the house.”

He locked his phone and gave me a disgusting grin. “No worries, we can just finish at your place.”

My face must have mimicked my disdain because he only smiled wider. I groaned and sat back down.

“Fine. Let’s just finish it.”

I finally swung my front door open at 9PM, exhaustion and agitation fueling me the entire ride home. Angel met me at the door, eyes big, obviously concerned for my whereabouts. He's never left alone quite this long, more so these last few months with Noah picking him up nearly every day.

"Hey baby." He barked in response while I kicked my heels off. "I'm so sorry I was gone so long."

He ran to the back door in response. I dropped my bag right there on the floor, slipping my slides on and striding to let Angel out.

I stepped outside with him, watching as he disappeared near the trees in the corner of the yard, undoubtedly relieving himself. I stayed on the wooden porch, flopping down into the wooden chair at the table. I slipped a single cigarette out of the pack next to the ashtray and lit the end with a match. I didn't indulge in my nicotine habit often, only in times of severe stress. I bought a pack the day I learned of the event and had smoked one each night after work.

I hadn't told Noah that.

This reminded me that I hadn't heard from him all day. I slipped my phone out of my pocket, taking a long drag from my smoke.

I pressed call as soon as I found his name in my recent list, noticing our last phone call was yesterday afternoon. We hadn't talked hardly at all since Sunday, when the shows became more frequent and my work started taking up all my damn time. Our nightly calls had been skipped a few times now, and we mostly communicated over text. Until now, I hadn't noticed how badly I missed him until I saw his contact photo show up when the phone rang; a picture of him sleeping, Angel stretched out over his stomach, snoozing comfortably on my bed.

I put the phone on speaker and set it on the table, leaning back in my chair.

"Hello?" His voice that came through was loud. There was a ton of background noise and voices. There was also some kind of music. Music I didn't recognize - heavy bass drums, some kind of high-pitched synth, with rhythmic reverb. Club music?

"Hey babe. What're you doing?" I could hear shuffling on the other end.

"What?" He couldn't hear me. "Hang on, babe. One sec." The phone then went completely silent, evidently muted.

After a few moments, I could hear sound again, but it was much quieter. "Hey babe, I'm sorry. I couldn't hear shit in there."

"What are you doing?" My voice was sharp, which I wasn't sure if it was due to me being wildly suspicious all of a sudden, or the frustration bleeding over from work.

"Oh, uh, after the show the guys wanted to stop off at this place on our way back to the hotel." His voice sounded intentionally nonchalant.

"What kind of place?"

He was quiet. Too fucking quiet.

"Babe, don't freak out." He sighed heavily. "It's a bar, and look-"

"You're at a fucking bar?!" I stood up, dropping my cigarette into the ashtray.

"Babe, please don't yell at me." I squeezed my eyes shut and pinched the bridge of my nose, forcibly evening out my voice.

"Noah, why the hell are you at a bar?" I said through gritted teeth.

"It's one of the guys' in ERRA's birthday tonight. We're just here to celebrate. I'm going to be fine." He was annoyed, I could hear it. I was 'sponsor'-ing him, but I didn't fucking care.

"Please don't drink, Noah." He groaned.

"I won't, Leena." His voice was slightly venomous. This bothered me. How could he not understand why I was upset by this? It was a valid fucking reason to be upset. He was right on top of earning his 6-month chip.

"Good. Because I swear to God, I will snatch those chips away from you so fucking fast."

He didn't even breathe. "Nick is here. He'll keep me straight."

"He's not drinking?"

"No."

"Okay." I sat back down.

"I'll call you when I get back to the hotel and after I shower."

"Okay." I picked my cigarette back up. "I love you."

"Love you too." Click. My heart tugged. It felt wrong.

When he finally called me, I was already half asleep. I had showered, finished getting ready for bed, and began fading while watching Supernatural. It was typically unheard of for me to pass out so early, but I was positively exhausted.

My phone began singing next to my face, and I moaned in defeat. I just wanted to be unconscious.

"Hey." My voice was thick with sleep.

"Hey, were you sleeping?" His voice sounded pretty sleepy too. It was past his bedtime.

"I was, but I'm fine." I sat up in bed. I ran a hand over Angel, who was now sound asleep in Noah's spot on my bed.

"Mmm. How was your day?"

I leaned back on my pillows, yawning. "It was long. Had to stay late again."

"With Sam?"

This made me snap to attention. The bite in his tone startled me. "Yeah, unfortunately."

"Hmm." He was making a lot of humming noises tonight. "Been spending a lot of time with him, yeah?"

You're fucking kidding. Noah was not getting jealous...of Shithead Sam?!

"Not voluntarily. We just had to get this event worked out."

"And did you?" He was still so serious. Nothing like what I was used to with Noah.

"Yes." My words were slow, still in disbelief at his attitude. "The event is on Saturday over in the valley. I'll be driving down there Saturday morning to make sure it gets set up."

"Well, I'm sure he'll meet you there."

I had about enough.

"Noah, what's your problem?" I was serious now, over whatever bullshit game it was he was playing.

"I don't have one." He paused. "Do you?"

Is he instigating an argument? "I didn't think so, but you're acting weird." I sighed. "I don't like it."

I heard him breathe, a sigh, maybe? "I'm sorry."

I didn't respond.

"I don't know, I just don't like that guy."

I sat up, pausing the television. "I know you don't. Neither do I. But why be rude to me over it?"

"Well, you spending so much time with him bothers me."

"...and?" I furrowed my brow, bewildered. "I can't help that we got put on this project together."

He snickered. "I mean..." He trailed off.

"What?" I dared him.

"You could have said no."

My jaw dropped. Was he for fucking real? "How do you figure? The President of the company I work for tells me to organize an event, and I just...what? Decline?"

"Pretty much."

I shook my head, absolutely flabbergasted. "Are you fucking joking?" My voice was raised.

"I asked you not to yell at me."

I swung my legs over the bed and began pacing. "Well, that's hard to do when you're acting like this."

"Like what?" His voice was so even, so calm. It was getting under my skin.

"Like a jealous boyfriend!"

He was silent for a minute. "Am I not?"

"Oh my fucking God, Noah! You have nothing to be jealous about!" I was now laughing, but not because it was funny, but because it was so ridiculous. "The guy is fucking putrid!"

"So I've heard." That evenness in his tone was going to kill me, or get him killed if I get my hands on him. I knew that bullshit. It was manipulative, which up until this point, I didn't think Noah was. He had never acted like this before.

"Noah, you don't fucking get it. He's the opposite of attractive. He reminds me of my ex." I had never admitted that before, to him or myself. I didn't think about him often.

"Right, yeah. The ex-boyfriend you never want to talk about. Got it." There was a slight inflection in his voice. Good. At least I know he isn't a robot.

He was just a fucking asshole.

My voice was calm now, still as standing fucking water. "That's correct."

"Leaves me with lots of questions, Mileena."

Who the fuck was this douchebag on the phone with me? What piece of garbage was I talking to? It wasn't Noah. Not my Noah.

"I'm hanging up." My hand was shaking now.

"Sure, yeah, ignore the problem." He was getting worked up. I couldn't tell if that was better or worse.

"No, I'm just not letting this go any further." I took a breath to keep voice even. "You should get some rest."

"No, c'mon, let's talk about it! You always want to know about me and my fucking skeletons in the closet! Where's yours? What's the big fucking secret? Why do I have to pull fucking teeth to get you to fucking talk about your ex? Or your drinking? Or anything fucking personal?!" He was full-blown screaming now, and I was frozen solid.

He wasn't wrong. I always avoided talking about Jeremy, at all God damn costs. He enabled my drinking, he set back my sobriety, and that was the mild stuff.

"Noah...please stop." My voice was cracking now.

"Whatever. So much for a trusting fucking relationship."

That was it. That broke the dam. That sent me spiraling.

"Are you fucking KIDDING me?! You call me, start a fucking fight, and then have the audacity to say I can't be trusted you fucking bastard?! Why? Because I don't want to talk about the asshole that drove me to drink because he was abusing me so badly?! Who slapped me around so much that only the alcohol made it bearable?! Back when I tried to kill myself, couldn't because I was so God damn drunk, and ended up going back to him because he convinced me no one else would ever love me?!"

I couldn't stop. He flipped the switch and you can't just undo that.

"Fuck you, Noah! Fuck you and your bullshit jealousy and trust issues!" Tears were streaming down my face, blurring my vision. Somewhere, I felt Angel's nose pressing into the side of my leg. "Now go the fuck to sleep before I tell you to go to hell instead!"

I ended the call, before he could respond. My shaky hands frantically turned my phone off before I could receive a text or a call back.

-

I had put my phone on vibrate all day Friday, spending the majority of the day in my bed sulking. I didn't want to talk to anyone; Laura, my Dad, most importantly, Noah. Anytime I thought about it, I started crying. I laid in bed, only getting up to let Angel out and get snacks from the kitchen. I laid in bed, watching comedy movies to try and relieve my mind.

It wasn't until I woke up Saturday morning that I finally read all of the missed texts.

The night of the fight:

Noah: Leena I'm such a fcking asshole. I'm sorry. Pleese call me back.

Noah: Babe I don't even know what got into m please.

Noah: Yourr phone is going straigt to voicemail. I guess you turned it off. I'm going to sleep now. I love you. Call me please?

Friday morning:

Noah: Is your phone back on?

Noah: Guess not.

Noah: Leena, please call me. I feel sick thinking about how dumb I was being. I promise I will never do that again. I swear. Please just respond to me.

Nick: Leena, Noah won't stop asking me to text you. Please call him.

Noah: I'm about to cancel the show tonight and fly home. Please Leena.

Noah: Nick said I can't cancel the show. Too short notice. Please call me. I need to hear your voice.

Friday evening:

Noah: Look, I've tried really hard to be patient but I'm starting to freak out. Babe, please. I was stupid. I will never ever ever ever ever ever ever ever do anything like that again. I have no idea what got into me.

Noah: I'm going to quit texting now. I'm sorry. I can't tell you how sorry. Call me when you're ready. I love you so much, more than you'll ever know Leena. Always.

I sighed hard. I wasn't angry anymore, mostly just hurt. I really wanted Noah to be different, but after the way he was talking, it was hard to believe. Nothing made sense. In five months, he had not spoken like that to me at all. He was always so laid back, even about things that bothered him.

Something was wrong. Something was different.

Unfortunately, I didn't have time to ponder it, as I had to get ready to drive to Escondido and get this hellscape of a day over with.

I decided to send him a response, but not give too much.

Me: I love you too. We'll talk tonight. Have a good show.

-

All things considered, the vineyard was absolutely stunning. The event was exactly how we planned, music elegant but still upbeat. The food was high-class, Kline sparing no expense. People were swaying and mingling, their drinks from the open bar settling nicely into their systems.

I was stood on a hill just out of sight of the happenings down by the massive estate home, overlooking the winery. Vines upon vines of grapes grew, causing such an incredible landscape while the sun began to set over the hills. It soothed the ache in my soul.

I heard footsteps approaching behind me, and gauging the weight of them, I rolled my eyes, knowing my moment was spoiled.

"Too good for the party?" I sighed. Sam's voice was the same as always, condescending and arrogant.

I turned, my long, olive green dress twisting at the skirt. "Nope, just taking a breather."

"Is it hard? Being around people drinking?" For once, he didn't sound like he was being judgmental, and it caught me off guard.

I shook my head lightly. "No. Not really anymore."

He nodded, standing next to me with his hands in his pockets.

"Hell of a view."

I shrugged. "It is."

He nudged my shoulder, gesturing over to a stable to his left. "Want to go see the horses?"

I smirked. "I'm okay, thank you."

He narrowed his eyes at me playfully. "C'mon, girl. Everyone loves horses!"

I chuckled. I contemplated this for a moment. I do love horses, having ridden many when I was younger.

Sam began stalking toward the barn, waving me along. "Just for a minute. You'll love them!"

I rolled my eyes, but still, I stomped after him, my heels nearly sinking into the grass beneath me.

He pulled the door open, the familiar smell of hay and feed hitting me in the nostrils. It was a comforting smell, reminding me of the horses my Dad helped tend when I was a little girl.

He walked into one of the stalls. "This one," he pulled on a rein, a stunning black horse peering out of the stall. I was drawn, walking up to her and smiling. "is mine. Her name is Onyx."

Her large nose pressed into my hand. I ran a hand up her face, reveling in the feel of her silky fur.

"She's amazing." I was in awe.

"Yeah, she's a good girl. Rides like a champ." I nodded.

"I'll bet she does." I backed away from her, peering over at Sam.

"You want to see another?" I nodded, a soft smile on my face.

He waved me down the stable, opening a stall at the end. "Come on."

I didn't see a horse, but I stepped in front of the door, confused. Sam was gone, and the stall was empty. I took a step forward just beyond the door, puzzled.

"Sam?"

It was at that exact second, a hand clapped over my mouth from behind, and a large, thick arm came to snake around me around the waist, holding my arms down to my sides and pulling me in close.

Sam had me pinned, his body pressed against my back, as I began writhing and struggling beneath him. Oh no. No, no, no, no.

I struggled as hard as I could, working my arms around in an attempt to get free. I felt his breath on the side of my face, his voice low and hushed.

"Shh, hang on there, girl. Wouldn't want anyone to know we're in here." I screamed against his hand, forcing him to clamp down harder, giving the feeling that my jaw may break.

Please, fucking, please, no.

"You've been playing this 'hard to get' bullshit for so long. It was about time we finally made it happen, huh?"

His hand over my mouth slid down to my neck, squeezing so tight that my vision began turning fuzzy.

I choked hard, trying like hell to get words out. "S-Sam, please, d-don't."

He had turned us around, pushing me against the wall of the stable. His hand that wasn't holding my throat was roaming up my skirt, his giant palm under my dress and tugging at my underwear. I thrashed again, trying like hell to get an inch so I could slip out of his grasp. It was futile. He had me, I was trapped.

I felt his fingers slipping into the hem of my panties, sneaking underneath. His hands violated me, making hot tears pour out of my eyes. I squeezed them shut, trying to just focus on having enough air to stay conscious. If I pass out, it's over.

I ignored his hands on me, and focused. His feet. His feet were the only shot I had.

I shifted my weight onto my other leg, realizing his was immediately behind mine, using both legs to keep mine spread.

I lifted my foot, and with as much force as I could muster, I jammed my heel into top of his foot, causing him to jump back, his hands releasing me at once. Without hesitation, once my arms were free, I reached my elbow back, connecting it with his face. I felt something crunch beneath my arm, but I didn't care.

As soon as he was no longer on top of me, I ran. I booked straight out of the barn, my vision slowly returning.

I was running back toward the party, up the hill. That's when I stopped. My dress was ripped on the strap, my hair was tangled up, and my makeup had to be running down my face. I was a mess. I looked insane.

I had to get the hell out.

I began sprinting to the parking lot, passing several people on my way but not stopping. I ran to my car that, thankfully, I had left unlocked, keys in the visor. I turned the engine over and tore out of the parking lot.

I didn't care that I blew past multiple stop signs. I pulled onto the interstate and drove. I drove until I couldn't see the winery behind me. Until I could barely see at all because my eyes were watering so badly. My breathing was so sporadic. My hands were screaming with how tight I had been gripping the steering wheel.

I finally snapped out of my state, realizing I needed to stop.

I pulled off on the next exit, finding a rest stop just off the highway and pulled into the parking lot. I sat there, staring out of the windshield, tears streaming, trying to calm my breathing.

It took me a moment to realize I had stopped, and for my brain to begin functioning again.

I picked up my phone, opening it and ignoring texts and missed calls and going straight to my contacts.

I pressed 'Call' and waited for the line to pick up.

"Hey babes, what's up?" Laura's voice rang through the line.

"I need help."

[justporo]

A Night of Song and Laughter (Part 16)

In which Astarion and Tav do enjoy each other's company very closely indeed but Tav has the upper hand for once and lives out the moment to its full potential.

The middle of the day is a fine time to just drop a dirty little chapter full of smut, don't you think? (At least here it's the middle of the day, good timezones to you)

This felt actually a lot more naughty and intimate than the first real smut chapter in this - at least while writing. But I'll let you be the judge of that...

Two songs for this: Kiss Me You Animal - Burn the Ballroom and Shirt - SZA

Rating: Explicit Pairing: Astarion/Fem!Tav (You) Warnings: Explicit content

You were riding Astarion languidly in your ginormous bed, chasing the third high of the night. You had taken him up on his words to make you think about other things and other things just happened to be straddling him and slowly driving him into madness. Another sudden change in mood that was by now probably fueled by more than just a tinge of hysteria from the seemingly unending night.

When you had expressed to him that you were inclined to go for yet another round after you had laid down on your bed with your towels still covering you up, his lips had curled into the most lewd and seductive smile: “I see, you might be taking on yet another one of my qualities accordingly: an insatiable need to devour you over and over. Your wish be my command, my love!” You had been immediately charmed by his words and his admission about his carnal and desperate needs for you, but you still had grabbed his hands which had immediately started to eagerly wander again. A thought had crossed your mind that you needed to voice: “I… Astarion… When you say stuff like that last part… I – just want to make sure that you know that I would never want you to do this were it not what you wanted as well. I mean, even if you wanted to turn your back on sex altogether because you’re done with it, that would be fine for me too, because being with you and loving you is the most important part and…” Astarion put a finger on your lips to softly silence you: “Love, you are rambling again.” He dragged you onto his body, so he was on his back and you were laying on your stomach on top of him – your towel holding on for dear life.

“Since you are worried about me, which, really, I cannot express how much I appreciate, my heart - ”, Astarion continued and let his hand drag through your hair, almost making you purr in approval “- I will have you know, that I am never getting on my back again if I do not deliberately choose to do so. And,” – he grabbed your fingers that had begun to tap an idle tune on his chest and kissed them “as far as I am concerned my hunger for you might be greater than you might yet realize.” The looks he threw you went from playful lust to sincere love in a heartbeat. “I’ve never had something like this, it might be almost as new to me as it might be to you. But” – his gaze turned hungry again – “if I were to unleash the full vastness of my needs and feelings for you, I fear I might actually break you or scare you off for good.” The sparkle in his eyes saying that let delicious shivers run down your spine – others might’ve been scared by a confession like this but considering the range of thoughts and emotions about this man that kept consuming your every waking thought… you’d probably just made the perfect pair.

You smirked at him and simply hummed contentedly now reassured that you were on the same page. “Now”, Astarion said raising his voice and giving you a light slap on your butt “be a good girl and sit on my lap!” You happily obeyed and basked in the admiring looks he threw you, when you sat up and slowly unraveled your towel to reveal your naked form beneath it.

Then you went to take his towel off from around his hips and immediately discovered that he must’ve enjoyed the view so far and was more than prepared for you to fulfill your needs.

So, there you were: sitting on his lap, grinding against him, his dick hitting deep inside you every time you lifted up your hips, simply to let them slam down again, while he kept desperately moaning and cheering you on with praise. He had his legs propped up to help you aid to get the most traction out of every single roll of your hips that he was holding onto, his thumbs lazily rubbing circles on your pelvic bones. The silk sheets were messily bunched up all around you and a sheen of sweat made your skin glisten in the light of the oil lamps on your nightstands.

You were ecstatic. His words of admiration and naughty praise in a deep and husky voice, while he was interrupted by his own moans and his voice kept breaking while worshipping you, turned you positively feral and made you feel powerful. Just knowing what power you held over this ethereal man that must’ve seen almost everything already but still seemed to lose his mind at you gleefully crying out his name. It took you to newly known heights; you’d never felt this good in your life.

You slowly picked up the pace and started moaning louder while you lifted your arms over your head and dragged your hair up while throwing your head back and arching your spine – very well aware that it would draw Astarion’s attention to your chest. “Gods, your breasts look amazing when you’re moving like that, love”, Astarion wasted no time to say and silently gasp in admiration.

You smiled mischievously at him, still toying with your hair and moved harder to give him more of the desired movement. “Gods”, he moaned and arched his head back with a hiss from the sensation of you coming down hard around him and enjoying the view of your jigging boobs that felt deliciously heavy with lust.

While the attention was on them you let your hair fall down again and moved your hands to squeeze your breasts, making yourself moan with the sensation and sending electric jolts down between your legs when you started to twist one of your hardened peaks.

Astarion lifted one of his hands and gave you a slap on your behind which made you gasp and clench your core which then made him gasp in return and arch his back. He looked almost completely out of it by now, his tone almost pleading, when he said: “You’re a goddess.” "Then keep worshipping me!"

You kept squeezing your breasts with one hand while you let your other hand wander down your body, over your stomach, then deeper, over your clit, but only remaining there shortly before letting it wander onto Astarion’s body. You noticed the markings on your arm glowing and pulsating slightly but kept focusing on the vampire’s prone body beneath you.

You hungrily drank in the shapes, lines and angles of his body. The muscles of his abdomen tensed under your gentle caress. You took him and his body in while you lazily kept rolling your hips to ride him: his well-toned upper body, his arms just as muscular, holding you firmly, those sinful long and elegant fingers on your hips and most of all: his beautiful face with its sharp red eyes that watched you eagerly and hungrily.

Astarion bucked his hips, making you gasp as much from the sudden movement as from the delicious friction it created. Seemingly you had gotten too lost in his features and slowed down too much for his liking, so he had opted to show you who was actually in charge. “Come, love, giddyup.” Excuse him? You clenched your core and earned a desperate moan from Astarion in response – just as you thought.

“Touch yourself for me, darling”, he demanded sinfully with a deep tone. You clenched around him again, ripping yet another groan from his lips. But you still obeyed and picked up the pace again, letting your hand wander from his body to yours again and this time remaining on your clit, starting to add to your own pleasure while you kept working your boobs with the other hand.

Things started to really move quickly from there on out. You could feel your orgasm coming up on the horizon being fully aware that after two very successful rounds already this one would really bring down the house around you. Astarion felt it too, his body almost painfully tensed and his hands on your hips motivating you to go more aggressively.

“Harder, my love, come on, destroy me”, he requested pleadingly but with just the right amount of authority in his voice that you couldn’t resist.

You rode him harder while his fingers pressed pleasantly painfully into your hips. There was no more space for chit-chat, only for heavy breathing and moaning and the sound of your two bodies coming together again and again. You held his gaze while you kept touching yourself and could see that he was trying desperately to hold on and not get lost before you did.

But you wouldn’t give him this pleasure this time. You moved yet harder and faster, arching your back and clenching around his hardness inside you while you could feel yourself starting to get lost.

But Astarion went over the edge first, his eyes rolling back into his skull while he moaned helplessly with opened lips that bared his fangs. Your own orgasm had you closing your eyes and throwing your head back while searing hot white light exploded inside you and made you cry out Astarion’s name again - loudly.

You rode out the waves and kept moving your hips lazily until you heard the vampire wince slightly. “Love… Please, stop?”, he said and coughed suspiciously. But you weren’t over enjoying having the upper hand for once. You rolled your hips again and giggled. Astarion winced again and made to lift you off of him, but you quickly did it yourself and moved out of his reach.

“Come back here, you disobedient woman”, Astarion shouted after you teasingly angry with furrowed brows, but you were already out the door.

You quickly walked downstairs – butt naked of course – and grabbed another bottle of wine from the kitchen and two goblets to drink it from.

When you returned to the bedroom, Astarion was still laying there in the middle of the bed where you had left him. He had one arm over his face, his breath still a tad faster than normal. You stood in the doorframe for a moment just taking in the gloriousness of this moment and this man. Then you tiptoed back in while casually offering: “You wanted me to destroy you.”

Astarion lifted his arm and only opened one eye to look at you: “Oh, consider me thoroughly destroyed, my love, a job well done.” You smirked at him, then put down the bottle and goblets on the nightstand next to your side of the bed. Astarion sat up again and leaned back on his hands watching you.

“What I did not want was you being such an insolent little thing in this precious moment of my weakness”, he spoke slowly and the grabbed you quickly from where you were just relaxedly standing next to the bed. He hauled you over it and made you kneel on the bed while on all fours and positioned himself over and behind you. He leaned on his one hand placing it next to yours and let his other wander slowly from your breasts, down your stomach in which lust already started to coil again, to the sensitive spot between your legs and finally down your thigh, causing you to shiver.

Astarion leaned over to one of your pointy ears and silently whispered: “And I’ll make you answer for your crimes, my pet.”

Tags: @daedriclys @angelofthorr @starved-kitten

[angelictyphoon]

pas de deux

@full-of-mercy

Their legs hang off the edge of a shorn panel alloy, peeled back and away from the fuselage like the pop tab of a soda can. It has become their perch, providing an uninterrupted view of the horizon and the burning edge of the twin suns as they make their ascent. Colors they have seen, colors they have shared before. Swatches of brilliant vermillion bleed into the dark sky as they turn their eyes up to the gradual migration from night to day. 

This is the second sunrise he has shared with Nicholas after two years. 

His hands hurt. He can feel the blisters swelling up beneath his gloves, but it’s a good sort of pain. One of the shovels pilfered from the rear adjoining workshed of Marlon’s Monuments leans against his left shoulder with his arm slung over it. 

Vash tips back, farther and farther until he lies flat across the plane of metal. A dubious-looking raider pistol twirls off the end of his finger until it flies off and joins the pile gathered below their feet with a clatter and scattering of the other weapons caught in the tumble. He hugs the handle of the shovel against the front of his coat and clasps his fingers over his chest.

“See? I told you it was gonna be worthwhile to leave the Punisher and your belt with me for a bit,” he grins, turning his head to look up at Wolfwood. “Thought you would’ve been more excited about me asking you to take it off.”

The raiders are long gone, forced into a humiliated retreat after Vash convinced Wolfwood to put on enough of a show to lure them all near the imaging room in the remnants of the medical bay. 

“Just needed you to buy me a little time and look juicy.” 

Enough time for him to generate enough power to engage the magnets in the long-dormant MRI machine and summarily disarm every scavenger within a forty foot radius. There are still a plethora of dusty, greasy dirt angels and dents left on the walls where the unfortunate souls wreathed in heavy metals got pulled in along with their weapons. He left them at Wolfwood’s mercy while he hunted through the rubble for the quench button that would kill power to the magnets.

Whatever Nicholas had convinced them of by the time they were dumped on the floor, not a single scavenger stayed to challenge them.

“It all worked out. No one got hurt– mostly– they left, we were able to bury the colonists and all the others. Weirdly enough, the black box wasn’t where it was supposed to be but it didn’t look like it got destroyed, either.”

It is out there, somewhere, perhaps already pawned off to a novelty space-tech shop in the growing underbelly of December.  The SEEDS ship had been caught in low orbit for over a century and a half. He would have liked to learn the story of its crew. With Luida's help, it is likely they could have cross-referenced the passengers back to their descendants.

Light continues to spill out over the sand, glazing the landscape in a warm glow. He can't recall exactly when he stopped questioning the rise of the twin suns, wondering why it is that people can go on living.

This rhythm is altogether familiar yet also new in that they have yet to choreograph their next steps. Nothing has been preordained and the rest of the world is not in need. Not at this very moment.

Angelina II waits patiently for them in the shadow of the fallen ship.

“Anywhere you wanted to stop by before we head back? The girls are probably still a day or two out so we have some time.”

[arctrooper69]

I'm just gonna throw this one out there since the thought won't leave my brain. What if F! Reader, and Crosshair when put together are absolute trolls to TBB, pulling pranks and creating minor inconveniences for everyone for their own amusement. Then the day arrives when he pranks the F! Reader and takes a little too far (exchange sugar for salt in the caf? Idk, you choose!). She chases him down to give him a piece of her mind, and mid-punch into his armor, he catches her hand.

Hi! I'm so sorry this took so long! Hope this is worth the wait! Also, I misread part of it so its reader and Crosshair pranking eachother not tbb as a whole. Sorry about that 😬 But I hope you like it anyway!

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Impractical Jokesters

You started a game that Crosshair is now determined to finish.

Warnings: Playing pranks on people I guess? Some lovey dovey stuff at the end. Making out?

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"Okay, I'm gonna ask this once and only once!" Crosshair growled stalking down the ramp to where you were sitting outside the Marauder reading a book. He looked annoyed. "Are you responsible for this?!"

He flicked his hand towards you angrily, flinging globs of sticky green sap into the dirt by your feet. You choked, lifting the book to cover your face - partially to protect yourself from the slime but mostly so that he wouldn't see the wicked grin you were trying so hard to hide. Taking a deep breath you peeked over the book to look at him, feigning an innocent look. Don't laugh. Don't laugh. Don't laugh.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Crosshair. Go bother someone else."

He shook his head and growled in frustration. He knew. He totally knew.

A grin split across your face.

"Don't worry, Tech said the stuff isn't poisonous or anything."

He turned back to the ship but not before chucking his slime covered glove at you. "You're washing this out."

Kriff. That did it. You couldn't help the howling laughter that bubbled from your gut, bringing tears to your eyes. "Just admit it Cross, I got you good!"

He paused at the top of the ramp, turning to face you as he leaned against the hatchway with his arms crossed. His face was eerily calm. A slight smirk graced his lips for a brief second. If you were any less perceptive you would have missed it altogether. There was a sharp glint of danger in his dark eyes that sent tingles through your core, down to your feet. Oh, this could be fun. You flexed your toes, suppressing a grin.

Crosshair seemed to study you intently for a few seconds, twisting the toothpick in his mouth between his thumb and finger before abruptly turning to go back inside; but not before tossing the toothpick over his shoulder. It landed in the dirt in front of you.

"Oh you have no idea what you've just started, kitten. Better watch your back." He smirked to himself as he walked back into the ship before you could respond.

Your lips suddenly felt very dry and you licked them, letting your eyes linger on the hatch long after he'd gone back into the ship. Oh yes. This could be very fun indeed.

***

When Crosshair said to watch your back, you had a funny feeling he actually meant it. You could feel the his gaze burning across your skin as you walked back into the ship. Crosshair wanted you on edge. That was the fun of it. He'd wait until your guard was down and then he'd strike. It would come without warning. You shot a cocky smile behind you, refusing to let him see just how deep beneath your skin he'd gotten. The suspense was killing, but the thought of Crosshair lying in wait somewhere - it excited you.

A few hours later, you stood by the caf machine, happy for a break from rewiring the control panel. It was tedious to say the least, but you owed it to Tech. You twirled a small wrench between your fingers thoughtfully. He'd seen you eyeing the toolset in town and it was imperative you had good tools to do your job, so he'd bought them for you.

The ramp to the Marauder hissed open and you jumped violently, gasping in pain as the fresh caf sloshed over your fingers. Not scared....just prepared, you told yourself. Hunter grunted as he clambered up the ramp and dropped a large crate down onto the floor. He glanced over quizzically, hearing the sudden crescendo of your pulse. "What's got you so jumpy today?"

"N-nothing!" you stuttered, shaking the caf off of your burnt fingers.

He raised an eyebrow, "Whatever you say." He turned back towards the ramp, tossing you a pair of work gloves. "Come help me bring the supplies in. Wrecker and Omega already left for Cid's and Tech and Echo are working on getting the engines up and running."

You nodded, "Where's Crosshair?"

Hunter shrugged, "No idea. He said he had to grab a few things in town. He should be back soon."

Keeping your guard up all day was exhausting. By the time you finished helping Hunter, Crosshair had returned and vanished once again. As the day went on, you let his threat slip to the back of your mind, slowly but surely letting your guard down.

"Go get some rest, y/n." Hunter jerked his head towards the bunks. "We'll wake you in a couple hours."

"Sounds good to me."

You walked to the fresher. The door slid the door open releasing a bucket of freezing cold water. A shriek flew from your lips as you stood there in shock, dripping wet. Footsteps clambered quickly in your direction.

"Y/n!?" shouted Wrecker. He was the first on the scene. "What happened!?" Hunter followed behind him with a similar look of confusion written all over his face. Rendered speechless, all you could do was sputter. Omega's hand over her mouth did little to stifle the giggles.

A grunt of amusement from behind caused you to spin around. Crosshair was leaning against the wall with folded arms and a satisfied smirk on his lips. "You look like a drowned tooka." He mocked as he removed the toothpick from between his teeth.

Blowing water from your lips, you glared at him.

Crosshair simply shrugged. He twisted a toothpick between his fingers and pointed it towards you. "I did warn you."

You wrung the soaked shirt in your hands, flicking the water droplets at him.

Hunter glanced between the two of you. He could definitely hear the way your pulse soared. Hopefully he would simply chalk it up to shock due to the icy water, but the narrow-eyed look he shot you as he slowly guided Omega back to the cockpit, said otherwise.

You turned back to Crosshair, leaning against the wall with arms crossed, mirroring his posture perfectly.

"So this is what it's is gonna be, huh?" You questioned, slowly looking up at him. Your heart beat wildly in your chest.

He looked down at you, eyes darkening as they met your own determined gaze.

"Do you really want to play this game with me?" He asked dangerously.

You nodded. "You're on, Crosshair"

He rolled his eyes and smirked, "Just remember, you started this."

You chuckled.

If Crosshair wanted a war, Crosshair would get a war.

You chose the wrong girl, my friend.

***

As promised, the pranks continued on for the rest of the week. The harder Crosshair hit, the harder you hit back.

He'd put salt in your caf instead of sugar and in return you wrapped his bunk in plastic wrap. He stuck dye into your shampoo, and you retaliated by replacing his hand soap with lube. Back and forth, back and forth; neither of you wanted to give the other satisfaction by giving up.

"Seriously Crosshair?" You fished out another plastic cockroach from your cereal bowl. To his credit, they did look real. "That's all you've got?"

His sharp eyes glistened dangerously like steely knives as he shrugged. "Wouldn't you like to know."

***

The next day he struck again.

"CROSSHAIR!" You yelled across the ship. You were beyond mad now. Tears pricked the corners of your eyes. "Too far! You've gone way too far this time!"

You were met with silence. Where was everyone? Crosshair had crossed a major line by messing with your tools.

"I needed that wrench today!" You yelled. The wrench in question was now glued to the palm of your hand. "Get out here now!"

Still silence.

You would never mess with his Firepuncher or anything that could potentially compromise a mission, yet the boundaries of your games had slowly been fading away.

Hunter poked his head from the cockpit.

"Crosshair's outside, y/n. What's the problem?"

"What's the problem!?" you yelled. Hunter winced.

"THIS! This is the problem!" You shook your hand at him. Your right hand; the hand you used to work your tools and now your wrench was stuck fast in your grip.

"He GLUED my wrench to my HAND!" You wiggled your fingers to prove your point and the wrench stuck fast. Omega was now standing by Hunter, drawn out of her room by your outburst.

"Wow," she giggled, "that's certainly not...handy."

Hunter choked on his caf. Omega smacked him on the back.

"That was a good one." He chuckled, ruffling her hair.

Omega beamed, then looked back down at the wrench in your hand. She couldn't tell if the tears in your eyes were of pain or anger. Probably both.

"I'm gonna kill him!" A frustrated growl emanated from the back of your throat. Crosshair would pay for this.

The door hissed open and you stepped outside. Crosshair, where are you?

"Tech!" You shouted, catching sight of him sitting in the grass tinkering away at some device that may have once been a thermal detonator and was now...something else.

He glanced up at you as you stalked over to him. "What's wr- "

"Where's Crosshair!?" you snarled, not giving him the chance to finish.

Tech shrugged. "I believe he went into town but I- "

"Great." You interrupted and hopped on a speeder leaving Tech looking quite bewildered.

Strangely enough, Crosshair was fairly easy to find and it almost seemed like he wanted to be found. By you.

He said nothing as he allowed you to drag him into an alleyway, shooting poisonous glares at anyone who looked your way.

"What the hell, Crosshair!?"

He smirked, taking in your disheveled appearance. The silence only further induced your fury. He was doing this on purpose.

That was it. You'd had enough.

"Why the hell would you think this is okay!?" Your voice cracked as you lifted your eyes, expecting some kind of response. Something. Guilt? Anger? Amusement? But Crosshair simply shrugged. You saw red and balled your fist, swinging without thinking.

In an instant he grabbed your shaking fist in his hand and stepped forward, pushing you up against the wall.

"Are you done?" he growled. He was so close you could feel his breath on your skin. You shivered, slowly losing the will to fight back. Your legs already felt weak. He moved forward, pinning your wrists to the bricks behind you and forcing a knee between your thighs. Your breath quickened.

"I think this has gone on long enough, don't you?"

It was your turn to be silent. Your eyes once aflame with anger, were burning with something else. Something deeper and much more passionate. His eyes wandered your body, coming up to meet your eyes. Crosshair wanted you as much as you wanted him.

He shoved his lips against yours with a hot, hungry urgency. He looked back up at you and smirked. He had you at his mercy and he knew it.

"I win."

"Crosshair," you shivered as he teased his hands slowly down your sides. You buried your face in the crook of his neck, breathing in his scent. "I love where this is going, but please, can we first get this thing off my hand?"

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@zoeykallus @ttzamara @nahoney22 @merkitty49 @viva-la-whump @agenteliix @dumpsters-little-matchbook @nekotaetae @ladykatakuri @loverofclones @heyitsaloy @padawancat97 @sadspring @flyingkangaroo

If you want to be on my taglist, feel free to send me a message! Also, asks are open! Reblogging is very much encouraged and it makes me do a happy dance every time any of my writing gets reblogged 😂❤️

[writingwitharlo]

A Secret Language

a/n: MY FIRST ST FIC!!! this took way longer than expected and is therefore a big chungus

anon: steve and eddie with “It’s been a while since you tickled me.” (33)

Tickle Trope Prompts

(Stranger Things; Steve, Eddie)

3845 words

CW: implied masturbation

Eddie liked to touch. This mostly applied to soothing any anxiety his body had no other way of expelling. Whether that was picking at the dry skin of his cuticle, twirling a strand of hair between his fingers, peeling off labels from beer bottles - the list was endless.

Eddie also liked to touch people. Not inappropriately, obviously. Just in small, casual ways. Little touches like elbows and shoulders and knees bumping together in close proximity, ruffling of hair, a pat on the shoulder - that list was equally endless. 

Of course, he couldn’t just go around touching whoever he pleased and for a long time he didn’t even know how much he had craved that form of affection until new people entered his life like a stampede. 

New people who didn’t think he was weird- Well, maybe they did, but they liked that about him. New people, who actually enjoyed spending time with him and valued his opinion. It was still an adjustment, not just for Eddie, who had to learn quickly that not everyone liked to be touched. But Eddie was a quick learner, and surprisingly observant.

So, he noticed the way Nancy always moved back when someone brushed up against her even just accidentally, maintaining a secure bubble of space for herself that she only allowed to be crossed on the rarest of occasions.

Eddie also noticed how Robin hated any touch that wasn’t completely obvious when it came. He had witnessed Steve sneaking up behind her on too many occasions not to notice. How her body visibly tensed when she sensed a presence behind her and the surprised yells she let out every single time, without fail. It took poor, oblivious Steve more than one scolding to realise that Robin did not appreciate his antics in the slightest before he finally stopped.

And then there was Steve. What didn’t Eddie notice about Steve? Perhaps he noticed too much for his own good. Steve, who had never pulled away from any of Eddie’s touches, whether he had planted them on purpose or without thinking. Steve, who let his leg relax enough so his knee bumped with Eddie’s whenever they sat beside each other. Steve, who would ask for hugs whenever a specific amount of beers was in his system. Eddie had counted them. It was eight.

Perhaps it was this mutual understanding that brought the two boys closer together as time went on. The understanding of how healing touch could be, how it could be its own secret language.

It took some time before their touches turned more playful, deliberately placed to draw out a reaction from the other. At first it were harmless shoves and nudges, which turned into messing up of caringly styled hair and tripping each other up when walking, which turned into headlocks and squabbles and ended with the addition of tickling.

The discovery had happened accidentally, at least that’s how Eddie remembered it. Stuck in a particularly secure headlock, Eddie was forced to grip onto Steve’s waist for balance which worked like a charm in releasing the headlock altogether. It wasn’t until Eddie had straightened up that he noticed Steve keeping his arms protectively close, wide-eyed with a grin tugging on the corner of his mouth.

From that day on, Steve easily became the victim of one of Eddie’s tickle attacks about three times a week. Even when Steve tried to fight back or make the first move, Eddie always managed to get the upper hand. Too quickly for Steve’s liking. 

The attacks never lasted for long, at least not at first. But the longer their little game continued, the greedier Eddie became. There was this thrill he got from that kind of contact. Or was it just because the contact was with Steve?

To be fair, Eddie had not dared to tickle anyone other than Steve, besides Dustin on occasion. But that was different. Dustin needed to be reminded to respect his elders. Steve… Well, Steve just made it way too easy. 

Eddie wouldn’t consider himself a skilled tickler. How could he? He had barely had any sort of physical contact with anyone for years. Steve would probably blame it on being a skilled guitarist or something like that, because nobody had ever taken him to pieces the way Eddie had. Not that he would ever say that to his face, of course.

Either way, Eddie craved more. More choked protests, more flailing limbs, more hearty cackles and frantic giggles, more heated cheeks and tears of mirth, more twitching muscle beneath his fingertips. It was addictive and the addiction was infuriating.

Eddie found himself lying awake at night, cheeks almost sore from smiling as he replayed the sound of Steve’s laugh over and over in his head. His fingers itched to draw out more of the heavenly sound, making him restless. Dragging his fingers over his own bare torso just wasn’t quite the same, even if it did still that craving for the time being.

It wasn’t until one autumn morning that Eddie awoke with a sensation that filled him with dread. There had only been about three occasions before where Steve’s laughter had followed Eddie into his dreams. But this time was different. And it was bad.

Eddie lay as still as possible, staring at a dark spot on the ceiling as if it would help. But it didn’t and he couldn’t bear the sensation any longer. Hesitantly, he moved his hand down his torso, following the light trail of hairs beneath his belly button until he reached the waistband of his boxers. His hand paused and after a slow, deep exhale, it plunged beneath the fabric.

The problem was taken care of in no time, Eddie’s brain filled with images of that pearly white grin and scrunched up nose until he was done. He was still catching his breath, cheeks lightly flushed as he cleaned up his mess before getting dressed, ready to pretend like none of that had actually happened. 

Two more times Eddie pretended like nothing happened until the feeling of guilt and shame turned his stomach into knots. There was no denying it at that point. He had a big, fat crush on Steve Harrington.

It wasn’t right. He knew better. A touch was never just a touch. At least when it came to girls, that’s what he knew. So why should it be different with a guy? Nobody should think like that about their friend- their best friend. He didn’t know any best friends that acted the way he did with Steve. Not in that way. He cried when it happened the fourth time. 

Practically overnight, it seemed that Eddie’s hands were sewn into his pockets. The colder, brisker weather was the perfect excuse and he didn’t think Steve would even notice anyway. 

Steve noticed. Perhaps not right away but he did. He didn’t really complain when the regular tickle attacks were reduced to the occasional jab or pinch at first. When they disappeared completely, that’s when he noticed. When his hugs were no longer reciprocated and what was previously a lingering hand on his shoulder, was now a brief fistbump with his arm, that’s when he became worried.

But Steve wasn’t good at bringing up emotional stuff - it was something he was still working on - and he thought, hoped perhaps, that this behaviour was temporary. Three weeks passed until Steve’s patients broke. 

“Hey, Ed?”

“Hm?”

“What’s been going on with you?”

“What do you mean?”

The Munson trailer was cosy and surprisingly warm considering the freezing temperatures Hawkins had been experiencing. Steve pulled one foot onto the lumpy couch, tucking it beneath the other thigh as he tapped some ash from the joint into a nearby ashtray.

Steve had practically invited himself over to Eddie’s, telling him something about his parents having some important business friends over and that he would rather be anywhere than at home. That they had been on his case even more than usual recently and that he needed to take a load off. 

How was Eddie supposed to say no to that? He let him into the trailer, glad that it was already dark out and the lights in the trailer were dim so that any flushed cheeks could go unnoticed. He rolled a joint for Steve before settling back on the floor beside the coffee table where he had been before the unexpected intrusion, writing up a new DnD campaign.

Steve had watched in silence for a while, occasionally letting his gaze wander around the room to see if anything had changed. It felt like it had been ages since he was in the trailer last. Quiet music was playing from somewhere, something slow and calm.

They had passed the joint back and forth a couple times before Steve broke the silence. Weed made Steve honest, Eddie had noticed.

“I mean…” He paused to take another drag, holding the smoke to give him time to think before releasing it with an exhale. “You seem different. Feel like I’ve barely seen you recently. And when I do you’re…” He waved his hand a bit as he took another drag, making Eddie gaze up at him. “It’s like you’re barely there.”

Eddie rolled his eyes and held his hand out for his turn. Only Steve could make things sound so dramatic. “Well, I’m right here, Harrington,” he replied once he could take a drag of his own.

Steve huffed a bit at the reply and pulled his other foot up so he could sit criss-crossed, leaning forward so he could see some of what Eddie was working on. But the lights were too dim and his eyes blurred the letters anyway, so there was no point. He rubbed at his eyes as he leaned back, head tilted back against the backrest.

“It just-...” Steve took a slow breath. “It’s been a while since you tickled me.”

Eddie froze, gaze slowly lifting from the papers before him to the other boy, relieved to find him staring at the ceiling. It hadn’t been ‘a while’. It had been three weeks. That was ages, an eternity. “Okay,” he replied slowly, dragging the word out as if to imply for Steve to elaborate since he didn’t know what else he could say himself.

Of course Steve stayed silent and Eddie’s knee began to bounce beneath the table. “Are you-” No, these were dangerous waters. “Is this your way of telling me that you miss it?” He did his best to sound teasing, sarcastic, as if there was a smirk on his voice when there was only panic.

“Well… Yeah, kinda.”

Not the answer he was expecting. Shitshitshit. Steve lifted his head as he continued to talk but before his eyes could find Eddie’s, he was already focusing on his papers again, scribbling away as if he were writing real words. 

“But other stuff, too. I mean… you’re all the way over there-”

“I can’t write from the couch,” Eddie argued quickly, which was the truth. It had not stopped him from abandoning his task to join Steve for a smoke in the past though. He seemed to remember the joint in his hand and took one last long drag to finish it off, holding the smoke in for as long as he could. 

“Alright, well… You made Dustin sit between us when we went to see Star Trek.” Eddie could feel Steve’s eyes on him and he was becoming hot under his gaze. He did do that, there was no denying it. 

“And you refused to get in the front seat when I dropped you off after your last DnD session. The last four DnD sessions, actually. And you know how much I hate having Max in the front.” Eddie lifted his head again, just as slowly as before only to find Steve pouting at him. Damn, he looked cute. Close to a petulant child but still cute.

Eddie’s face was hot from his neck all the way to his ears, which were luckily hidden by his hair. 

“So, what is it?”

Eddie blinked. “What’s what?”

“What’s been going on with you?”

Eddie was backed into the corner and he could feel it. Shitshitshit. Fuck. His heart was racing faster than he would like and his hands were starting to become clammy. “N-Nothing.” He got to his feet, mumbling a quick ‘I need a drink’ as he shuffled over to the fridge.

The light cast a dim glow onto Eddie’s face and just for a few moments he closed his eyes, allowing the cooled air to hit his burning face before grabbing a can of coke. He shut the door, ready to turn back when he bumped into something solid beside him. Steve. 

“Are you avoiding me?” There was something hurt in Steve’s voice and it broke Eddie’s heart.

“N-No.” His feet moved back slightly, the proximity too overwhelming for the moment. “I’m not avoiding you.” It was a lie. This time he was physically backed into a corner, the edge of the kitchenette counter making contact as he took another small step back. 

Steve’s head tilted to the side, hands coming to rest on his hips. “Okay. Then what about all the things I just said? Because I didn’t make them up?” Curse Steve’s stubbornness.

Eddie tried to act casual, leaning back against the counter as he picked at the tab of the can, never even opening it. “It’s not-... I- I don’t want people to get the wrong idea.” That wasn’t a lie.

Steve frowned. At least Eddie imagened a frown in the pause that followed. He wasn’t exactly looking at Steve’s face. “What people?”

“You know, just-” He waved his hand uselessly. “People.”

There was another pause. “No. I don’t know.”

Eddie sighed and shook his head, about to head back over to the coffee table. “Just forget it-” But as he was about to take a step forward, so did Steve, forcing him back against the counter. 

“Why won’t you tell me?” Eddie was expecting some annoyance but as his eyes flickered up to the face that was so much closer now, all he saw was hurt, and concern -  creased brows and worry.

“I-... I uhm…” Eddie felt hot again. He swallowed and he was sure Steve could hear it. He wanted to look anywhere but at Steve but his eyes wouldn’t tear away. “I don’t-”

“I have ways of making you talk, you know?” Steve’s head tilted to the side again. The concern was fighting against something trying to take its place. And was that a smirk tugging on his lips?

“No, you don’t-” Before Eddie could even finish the words, the room was spinning. The coke slipped from his fingers as he yelped and it tumbled to the ground with a clatter. Blinking rapidly, he found himself looking down at two pairs of socked feet and the grubby tiles of the kitchen. “Steve- Agh!”

A noogie, really? They weren’t kids anymore. “Fuck off, man!” Was this his way of making him talk?

“I told you what I want.” This was certainly not how Eddie had imagined his night to go.

“Eat shit!” Eddie knew it was no use tugging on Steve’s arm. He was simply stronger. One thing Steve seemed to have forgotten was what happens when Eddie wants to get out of a headlock.

One hand slipped up his back so far as it could reach before moving to Steve’s exposed side while the other gripped onto Steve’s knee. It took him one second too many to realise what was about to happen. An indignant shriek, frantic giggles and a buckling leg later, the room was spinning again.

With a muffled thud, both boys hit the ground, their bodies entangled and piled on top of each other. Steve reached up to move his hair out of his eyes with a groan but was quick to snap his arm back down as vicious fingers formed a claw over his ribs.

“Nonono, Ed- Eddie!”

It seemed as though Eddie’s floodgates had been opened. The itch he had been denying to be scratched was gripping him, taking control of his hands as they seeked out the sensitive spots they remembered. One hand at his ribs, the other at his hip and Steve was howling.

Eddie had found a way to half straddle him and half lay on top of him, keeping him on his back despite his useless kicks and desperate protests. Steve’s free hand, the one not protecting his ribs, came up to grip at Eddie’s shoulder. Eddie figured it was an attempt to push him away but the laughter had Steve weak, as usual. So, of course he took his opening. 

Steve’s back arched off the floor when the claw from his hip darted right into his armpit. He bucked his hips a couple times before his silent laughter rendered him useless. Only now did Eddie realise that he was laughing too, clearly enjoying his friend’s misery. His friend…

Eddie’s hands stilled suddenly and he moved to sit up, clearing his throat awkwardly. His whole body was burning, only this time he wasn’t sure if it was due to the proximity or the exertion. It didn’t matter. He moved to a crouch but before he could rise up, the room turned into a blur for a third time as something solid collided with him from behind. 

With a grunt, Eddie landed face first in the worn down carpet beside the kitchen. Luckily, he had been able to catch most of his weight with his hands but before he got a moment to turn around and question the culprit, warmth settled against the back of his thighs. Eddie’s breath hitched and the counter attack began. 

“Don’t think I’m done with you yet, Munson.”

Eddie was mainly surprised by the lack of breathlessness in Steve's voice, having expected him to take longer to recover. That’s all he really got to think about as those rapid squeezes focused right above the back of his knee, firing up the nerve endings all the way up his thighs. Not good. Very much not good.

“Fuck, Steve! Get off, I mean it!” He tried to sound as serious as he could but his own giggly voice was ruining that for him. Lucky for him, Steve hadn’t thought to pin him down or lay on top of him.

With a bit of a struggle, Eddie managed to flip onto his back, which ended the attack on his legs but opened up all the other spots he would have been able to protect otherwise. He wasn’t going down without a fight. 

They grappled for a while, shouting for the other to give up while maintaining their own stubbornness. Steve got Eddie on his back more often, just because he was stronger. Eddie was more nimble, though. This time he brought one hand up between them, fluttering his fingers against Steve’s belly, where the fabric of his shirt hung loosely from his frame.

Steve yelped and flopped right on top of Eddie, who groaned quietly while still trying to get free and avoid the other’s questioning. It was useless.

“Why won’t you tell me?” They were the only words Steve had repeated over and over since the counter attack.

“Fuck off!” The heat in Eddie’s voice disappeared when a smile betrayed him, shoving at Steve to get him off. 

“Tell me!”

“No!”

“Munson, tell me!”

“Why are you so stupid?” Eddie grabbed either side of Steve’s face-

“Well, that’s just m- hmb.” and brought their lips crashing together. 

Everything stopped. For all he knew, Hawkins and all of the world had been swallowed up by the Upsidedown after all. But when Eddie finally pulled away again, Steve was still right there, staring back at him with wide eyes. The skin beneath his fingers felt hot, so Eddie released him and scrambled to sit up. “That’s why.”

He can’t help the bitterness that seeps through as he gets up, brushing himself off before heading back over to the coffee table. He slumped back down on the floor, staring blankly at his scribbles as he waited for Steve to run out or come over to hit him or anything. Anything would be nice. Out of all the options he had, Eddie would not have put ‘laughing his ass off’ on the list.

Except, that was exactly what happened. It started with a couple chuckles at first and quickly grew to full on hysterics. Eddie’s brows furrowed together in confusion. He couldn’t see the other boy from his spot on the floor. All he could see was a mop of brown hair on the floor just past the counter. 

“Eddie!” Steve called out when he got enough air in his lungs but Eddie refused to answer, just watching the mop of hair move until he was fully out of sight. There was a groan and an attempt at composure before Steve came into view again. Slowly, he lifted himself to his feet, gripping the counter for support as the occasional wave of laughter still shook through him, making it hard to stay upright. 

“Eddie.” Steve wiped at his teary eyes before spotting the other over on the floor, slowly staggering over towards him. 

Eddie tried to remain as still as possible despite his trembling, hoping silently that Steve might not see him and just decide to go home. He continued to hope even when Steve was already coming to crouch beside him.

Eddie’s brows stayed furrowed, eyes slightly widened as he tried to see as much as possible in the dim light. Steve just stared at him with that goofy grin of his, the one he only wore when he had given up on trying to stop smiling. “What?” Eddie asked, trying to sound annoyed or at least impassive.

Steve blinked, his head tilting to the side like a curious puppy with his warm eyes sparkling in the dark. “You’re an idiot.” Before Eddie could ask what he meant, lips were against his again, softer and less forced than his but still eager.

Eddie couldn’t comprehend. Perhaps he was too high to comprehend and it didn’t matter. All he knew was that Steve hadn’t run out or tried to beat him up but rather came back for more. There were so many unformed questions swirling around in his mind, all of which he refused to acknowledge as he gripped onto Steve’s shirt.

A loud bang made the two fly away from each other. They looked around, panicked and confused before realising what had happened. Their eyes met and this time, both of them fell into hysterical laughter, gripping the other for support as tears filled their eyes that were impossible to hold back.

The can of coke Eddie had dropped had chosen that exact moment to explode on them, the carbonation bursting through the weakened seal that Eddie had fiddled with. 

Almost symbolically, with the release of the carbonation, all tension between the two boys had vanished. 

[deepspacedukat]

Postponement

His ears are just so cute in the pic I used below! Something about the shape in this shot in particular is just 😍 *ahem* Anyway, enjoy this little drabble!

Day 20: Orgasm Delay

SoC prompt list here. SoC Masterlist here. Cross-posted to AO3 here.

~*~

Yuris (ST:ENT) x Reader

[A/N: This is smut, so 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI!!!]

Warnings: Doctor/patient relationship, interspecies sex, Human/Vulcan sex, fingering, fingering wearing medical gloves, oral sex (female receiving), praise kink, mentions of mind melds, he’s giving her a “checkup” iykwim. *winkwink*

~*~

All things considered, his unofficial exile was pleasant. He may no longer be able to practice medicine on the Vulcan homeworld, but Dr. Yuris was not displeased with where his honesty had taken him. Earth was a beautiful planet. He’d hoped to visit one day, and now he had the distinct honor of being allowed to tend to its inhabitants’ health.

At least he was no longer regarded with disgust. The Humans had no reason to believe him unclean or deviant. As such, they’d been cordial, even welcoming to him when he arrived. Yuris did his best to successfully treat and care for every patient who entered his office.

He supposed that was the reason his current actions seemed so scandalous. Being intimate with a patient in his own exam room was already scandalous, but they were even more so given his status.

“Yuris, please,” she breathed as his fingers swirled slowly and precisely around her clit. The Doctor was fully cognizant of the effect he was having on her.

They’d been intimate a few times before, but this was the first instance where they were taking the rather serious risk of doing so here. All it took was one misdirected patient or nurse who required a signature, and Yuris could be banned from practicing medicine altogether.

But he’d wanted to try this. He’d come so very close to begging her to allow him to please her here, but ultimately such an action hadn’t been necessary. His lover shared his desperation...and his desire for taking a risk.

She whimpered so brokenly when he pulled his gloved hand from between her legs that he had to kiss her to keep her quiet - not that such an action was unpleasant for him, of course. Kissing her was never anything but the highest honor and privilege.

“Breathe, ashaya. You have been so patient,” he murmured against her neck. Yuris had delayed her orgasm twice already, but he would not do so again. They had already been there for slightly longer than he’d anticipated, so he needed to make her come quickly. Given how she was trembling in his arms and spreading her legs wider already, he knew it wouldn’t be difficult to get her there.

The Vulcan dropped to his knees, coaxed her to the edge of the medical bed, and kissed his way up her inner thighs.

“Doctor?” He looked up at her seemingly innocent tone, and raised an eyebrow. “Thank you for giving me such a thorough examination. It’s reassuring to know that I have such a consummate professional who’s dedicated to ensuring my continued good health.”

Naughty girl.

“You are very welcome. Patients who actively seek to maintain their health as you do should be commended,” he murmured. “Allow me to reward you.”

She was forced to bite her lip as his mouth met the sweet drips between her thighs. Yuris knew she couldn’t cry out for him, but he would still make sure she was absolutely shattered by the time she walked out of his office.

~*~*~

Taglist:

@akamitrani @android-boyfriends @attention-bajoranworkers @bigblissandlove1 @darkmattervibes @emilie786 @horta-in-charge @live-logs-and-proper​ @slutty-slutty-vulcans​ @starrynightgardens​ @toebeans-mcgee​

[sheloves-toomuch]

Chapter 3: The Mirror, The Apple, and The Vision

This chapter borrows themes from Grimm's Fairytales, and Hans Christian Anderson's The Little Mermaid. Raphael, the son of Mephistopheles is a prince of sorts, if that makes sense? We discover a lot more about the siren and her dark urge, along with Astarion's motivations moving forward.

I'd like to thank @bloody-cute-yandere for helping me come up with a lot of the ideas in this chapter. You're the best!

I still haven't decided on a title- maybe something simple like The Siren and the Vampire? Let me know what you think!

TW for language, adult themes, blood and violence.

“The only way we can bring her to safety is if we face the hag herself!” Wyll shouted, arms crossed. He was pacing in front of the fire at camp while the others thought intensely. The silence was thick, and there was tension in the air among the party members.

When Zenosyne had fallen into a deep slumber and the once bitten apple fell with a hollow thud in the grass, the hag hastily appeared. The bark of the large tree morphed ever so slightly before their eyes. A hunched creature with broken sticks in her hair and long clawed fingers separated from its thick trunk. She retrieved the siren with a deafening cackle and disappeared in a shimmering green cloud of fog. They hadn’t seen her since.

Gale was silently racking his brain for all the knowledge he could muster on hags and their tricks. Lae’zel had chided him for not knowing more off the top of his head.

“Tch’k! Have your brains been scrambled since the parasite took up residence there? I would have expected the ‘well-read wizard’ to know these things.”

Shadowheart sat with her cheek rested on her open palm, slouching forward with a pensive look etched into her brow.

Astarion lay quietly on his back, facing the stars as he tossed an apple in the air, then caught it, repeatedly. His other arm rested curled behind his silver locs.

Karlach stood back from the flames, warm enough already from her own furnace of a heart.

“I don’t think she had a clue she was a siren.” Karlach said, hands on her hips. She looked at the ground and kicked the dirt nervously. “I don’t think she was trying to deceive us, is what I’m trying to say.”

“There was a time I would have slain her on the spot- but, as we’ve established, these are unusual times, and I’m finding allies in the most unlikely of people.” Wyll added.

Astarion grimaced at Wyll’s words. He knew Wyll would have slain him too, at one point- but it was rather inconsiderate to keep brining up the fact.

“I suppose you’re doing many of us a favor, then, not cutting our throats in our sleep. Is that what you’re saying?” He asked pointedly, but his face still lazily looked up at the stars- eyes following the apple as it made its way back down to his hand. Were it not for his sharp words he would have seemed altogether unbothered.

“Let’s not argue, Astarion, when we have more pressing matters at hand.”

“Yes, let’s not.” Astarion echoed.

“I have to agree, Karlach.” Shadowheart inserted herself into the conversation in hopes of breaking some of the growing tension. “I don’t think she knew any more than we did. That’s… not the parasite’s doing, either. I may not have memories… but I know why my memories are gone. The rest of you know who you are and remember your past.” She sighed, “I think we should go back for her.”

“Her bloodlust is a danger to us all- she clearly has trouble keeping it in check. If she cannot keep herself in line, then perhaps it is a good thing that she is gone.” Lae’zel stated coldly.

“Coming from the Githyanki, that is quite the statement” Shadowheart murmured. It would seem she tried to break up tensions only to create her own.

“I keep my blades sharp, but I do not strike without purpose, Shadowheart.” Lae’zel’s tone never changed.

Gale finally spoke up,

“Those talking sheep were clearly some kind of illusion. We have to find out exactly how much of our surroundings back there were illusory. I can try to dispel the magic, but ultimately, we will have to find the hag’s hiding place. Finding a way to wake Zenosyne will be another matter altogether.”

There was another heavy silence.

“That is to say, I do intend to go back there. I think she is a formidable ally, one whose favor we would do well to keep.” Gale added.

“I agree!” Astarion exclaimed. “She was able to turn a Gur into a drooling mess in seconds. That’s a skill we could use to our benefit in the future.” He let out a throaty laugh. “Hah, the way he walked into the river without question. Right into her blade.”

Though he looked calm, Astarion's mind was moving quickly and in many directions. With each toss of the apple into the air he was met with a new question. Zenosyne was powerful, he thought to himself, and she had no idea. That was a dangerous thing. To be able to control other beings with ease and make them bend to your will- it had taken him the better part of 200 years to be able to charm and seduce people with ease, and even then, he couldn’t convince someone to walk without question into his blade. Yes, she was gifted, and he would be sure that her gifts worked to protect him. Its just a matter of charming her instead of the other way around... he thought.

After all, he had absently complimented her upon their first meeting on the wrecked beach. Her naïve smile had spoken volumes more than the few words she stuttered afterwards. It should be simple enough, Astarion thought to himself.

“But will she turn her siren’s gaze towards us?” Wyll thought out loud, breaking Astarion’s train of thought.

“I don’t think she would.” Karlach said firmly. “She’s just as confused as the rest of us, if not more. I genuinely think anyone thick enough to bite into a mysterious hag’s apple without question is probably not a devious mastermind.”

“At first light, we go then.” Gale said firmly.

_________

Single file, the party quietly made their way to the spot where Zenosyne had been taken by the hag, Ethel. Two of the sheep stood facing each other, as if staring one another down. Certainly not typical sheep behavior.

Gale quietly whispered a few words, and like a great paintbrush was pulling away strokes of wet paint from a canvas, the bright and beautiful glade became a muggy and damp swamp. The sheep were redcaps in disguise. Evil fae creatures that followed Ethel around in their sweet disguises. They seemed to be altogether oblivious to the fact that they had been discovered.

“Baa” one of them said.

Stepping through the thick mud one by one, the party finally laid their eyes upon the hag’s home. It resembled the creature herself, overgrown with vines and moss. It smelled faintly like sulfurous eggs.

Stepping up on to the steps of the hag’s home, the door wide open- Astarion cautiously peeked inside. Usually, an invitation was required for him to cross the threshold of someone’s house. It seemed that walking in the sun was not the only freedom he could now enjoy thanks to the wriggling worm in his brain.

Perhaps if we wake her up, and rescue her, I can sweep in and begin my charming little act. He thought, She seems a bit like the empty-headed fairytale type. Granted, empty headed and extremely dangerous.

“There’s no hag here.” Karlach said, cautiously. “But those coals near the hearth are still warm.”

“It’s a false wall.” Astarion said passively, as though it were obvious. The others turned to him in surprise.

“What? You can’t tell? Look at those bricks. They don’t match the ones behind it, and it’s set out just a bit too far to be a simple hearth.” He explained. “Tsk. Honestly, it’s a wonder that you all could find your way back to camp.”

Karlach pushed the still warm bricks until they budged gently. “He’s right” she said, and with a great swing of her hammer, the wall came tumbling down to reveal a dark and moldy passageway. They descended carefully into the musty, odiferous stairway into a damp and uninviting cave. Green light occasionally glowing just enough to give them guidance on where to step.

“You’ve come to retrieve the little mermaid, then?” A chilling voice rose up from the cave walls. Auntie Ethel. It seemed to permeate through the rocks and echo from every direction. At the end of the tunnel was a room of sorts- a table with alchemy ingredients spread lazily about, and just past it- a large, ornate mirror that showed no reflection.

“Hush” the disembodied voice continued, “She dreams now.”

The mirror looked as though it were a window to the ocean. Waves crashed inside, and a tiny glow was suddenly visible within the chaos. The glow became brighter, and brighter, until finally it pushed aside the waves and the vision of Zenosyne was shown. She was asleep, dreaming deeply. Now, her minds eye was opened and her dreams were visible.

Zenosyne cradled a beautiful jewelry box in her hands, sifting through the contents with an empty and distant stare.

“Gods, all I have of the beauty from the world up there is in this room.” She mused, and hummed a quiet melody. “I bet you up there, they don’t reprimand their daughters for being kind.”

An unnaturally pale woman with swirls of red that danced with otherworldly magic on her skin lay on her stomach, thumbing through the pages of an old book with little interest. Her hair was in a long, blonde braid that snaked down her back. A large, beautiful bed made atop the open face of an opalescent shell came into view. The room’s beauty was beyond description. There were glass ornaments everywhere. Colors of green, blue, pink and purple shimmered in the glow of the dim light from above like stars. Jewelry was strewn without care on the vanity, on a lavish table, on the nightstand by the elegant bed- beautiful, ornate bottles that held unknown things were organized loosely beside her on the vanity, and several mother of pearl combs were laid out neatly in a row. In the middle of the room was a glistening pool that made the colors around her dance vividly in its reflection. Silk skirts and beaded fabrics peeked out from a massive wardrobe carved from light blue marble.

“You have everything you need down here.” The pale girl said, clearly annoyed. White, empty eyes finally meeting Zenosyne’s back. “The least you could do is put in the effort to make father proud. Just one or two souls and I’m sure he’d be just thrilled.” She rolled her eyes in disdain.

At the word father, Zenosyne flinched.

“I mean…” She went on, “I bring in the trophies of the slain every day. You don’t even lift a finger to do his bidding. And yet here you are… favored…. Somehow.” There was hostility and passive aggression in her voice.

Zenosyne was clearly thinking, but she decided against speaking out. Suddenly, a very small creature that was clearly from the hells emerged from the massive doors to her room. She looked at the eccentric, frankly horrifyingly grotesque creature through the mirror.

“Sceleritas Vel” She said, “Any news?”

“Just that your father wishes you to emerge from your room, your highness. Prince Raphael will be leaving soon.” His voice was respectful and refined despite his appearance.

“I don’t want to see Raphael, just bid him farewell for me.” Zenosyne said in a depressed tone.

“Highness, Your father wishes you to at least come out for yourself. His lordship, Prince Raphael, seemed very pleased to see you.” Sceleritas said, clawed, thin hands clasped together tightly.

“Very pleased indeed” The pale woman tossed the book over her shoulder, and it landed on a silk pillow. “Don’t fuck this one up, please, Zeno. He is the son of Mephistopheles. Do you know how many—”

“Enough, Orin! Out of here, both of you!” Zenosyne said, both hands up in the air. She sat up straighter but her back remained turned to them. Her voice was oddly melodic and soft for someone who was trapped within the hells. Perhaps that was part of her siren’s instincts. “I will have none of this.”

Once they had cleared from her room, Zenosyne let out a deep, pained sigh.

“Some charming prince.” She muttered, sarcastically.

The vision from the mirror went dark, and they were all left in silence. Shadowheart blinked a few times in disbelief.

“She was trapped in the hells? All along?” Karlach whispered, “A bit like myself… Just treated much, much better.”

Astarion swallowed, finding it difficult to place the feelings he was experiencing. She was just as sweet as she seemed to be, and she was destined to be held in the beautiful prison her father had made for her. No wonder she was drawn to death and destruction- she was from the hells. He did not want to think about what would happen if this “father” of hers showed up. Did he feel guilt? Or was it fear? She clearly fought against her nature and tried to be kind in the face of others’ disapproval.

No, he would stick to his plan, he decided. He would make sure "her highness" thought highly of him. She clearly wanted a proper dashing hero to help her out. I could play that part, he thought to himself, pushing away the other details. I’ll worry about the rest of the of the plan later.

With no warning, the hag emerged from behind them, reaching out a gnarled claw.

Zenosyne was visible just beyond her- in a quiet alcove. She was laid out on a stone table, quietly resting as if she were still beneath the apple tree.

Gale lifted his voice, casting mage armour on himself. Karlach wasted no time in lunging forward, crying out in rage with her terrifying might. Her hammer came down upon the hag, right through her, then down upon the ground where the hag was standing. She had suddenly disappeared into a cloudy haze. The hag let out a high pitched cackle at the attempt.

“My little mermaid has so many secrets! What a fine price she’d fetch if only her daddy knew where she was. Or maybe even that prince!” Ethel mused.

An arrow whizzed by Karlach’s ear. With a loud twang, Astarion’s bow fired. The hag jumped out of the way just in time, her shrill laugh making them all grimace in pain.

A fireball came hurling at them all, singing their clothing in a bright blaze. Karlach was undeterred and tumbled through the inferno- crying out with resolve. While the hag finished her spell, Karlach landed a heavy blow- on the real hag this time. She had not been expecting such a quick recovery from her opponent.

Ethel tumbled back, and in her confusion, Gale aimed an ice knife in her direction. It pierced her just in time, before she could run away from Karlach.

Shadowheart aimed a glowing guiding bolt towards her, but it landed on cold stone.

“Where is she?” Shadowheart cried out. The others looked around nervously, panting from the exertion.

“Awww, Did the rat catcher want to be the handsome prince? Did he want to be the hero?” Ethel's voice teased. The others weren't sure to whom she was referring, but Astarion spoke up anyway.

“I AM handsome, thank you” He spat with fury in his voice. He would not give the hag the pleasure of believing she could insult him.

The hag reappeared, and with a great swing of her staff, knocked Gale off his feet. Wyll took the opportunity to bring his sword down on her gangly arm, and with a crunch of bones she wailed. Lae’zel leapt onto the table. She knocked the roots and herbs out from under het feet, and jumped into the air, arms drawn back, ready to strike the hag. She landed with a tearing sound onto Ethel’s hunched form, but was flung off to the side. Lae’zel landed nearby, the air knocked out of her lungs.

Very mortally wounded now, Ethel screamed out a curse- but before she could summon any horrific creatures to fight alongside her, Shadowheart landed the guiding bolt she had been wanting so desperately to let go of. The hag cried out again, and fell backwards into the mirror- shattering it to pieces. Instead of falling forward- she fell backwards into it’s many broken shards. Her haggard feet the last thing they saw as she tumbled into a black oblivion. There was a second of peace. Then, the sound of the shattered mirror rang out again, and all of its fragments were restored to their former places. The cracks became threads of glowing magic, and it was as if the mirror had never been broken at all.

A gasp was heard. Zenosyne was awake. The party all rushed over to the stone table where she lay.

Without hesitation, Astarion leapt into action. Just as she was opening her eyes he pushed the others aside, emerging from the crowded adventurers. He looked down at her terrified face, and tried to smile. He placed his hands on her shaking shoulders.

"It's alright. You're safe, darling" he said, gently. His voice soothing. He took her face in his cold hands and she reached up to hold them.

"I think..." she spoke, but fell into a gasping, coughing fit. The long, deep sleep had left her weak and afraid.

Astarion reached down, one arm behind her back, the other beneath her knees, and lifted her up from the table.

"Don't think now, darling. There will be plenty of time for that later. Rest now." He whispered, and carried her up the steps into the hag's cottage.

[willowbird]

It’s fully possible that after reckless/i like it you’ve had quite enough canon Andrew pov, in which case, ignore me, but I’m obsessed with Andrew’s reaction to Neil being grabbed by Ichirou. Like the little hint that he might have ended up in the construction site and disappeared so Andrew never knew for sure what happened, but all you get from Neil pov is Andrew not speaking very much. Anyway, I wondered if you maybe had thoughts?

Your wish = my command. It's like more than a year later but I hope it was worth it!!

Please note that all dialogue was taken directly from The King's Men.

-------

"Hello, Jean," Neil said.

"Go away. I have nothing to say to you." Jean sounded about how he looked. Considering he looked like he'd been on the losing end of a disagreement with a small truck, Andrew had to at least appreciate the thick layer of spite Jean had lathered atop his misery.

"But you'll listen," Neil said, "because I just told Ichirou where you are."

What the actual, absolute fuck. Beneath the bruises, Jean's pallor had gone a gray shading on green. Kevin had stopped breathing altogether - and Andrew had to trust that he eventually started up again because as Neil started to explain his encounter with the freshly minted crime lord his attention was otherwise engaged.

Because Neil had gotten into a car with Ichirou Moriyama. Then he had fucking bartered with him.

"It's not a pardon and it's not really freedom, but it's protection," Neil summed up. Andrew had the impulse to wrap his fingers around Neil's throat, to throttle him for being such a spectacular idiot. Thankfully for Neil, sobriety had done wonders for Andrew's impulse control.

Perhaps not quite enough, depending on who you asked, but wonders nonetheless.

"We're assets for the main family now," Neil continued. "The King's lost all his men and there's nothing he can do about it without crossing his brother. We're safe—for good." There was something to be said for the steady vehemence in Neil's voice, the bite when he stated Riko's loss so clearly, the relief that tightened his throat around the word 'safe'.

There was something to be said, but Andrew wouldn't say it. Couldn't. Not even if he wanted to. His brain was still so caught up on the dissonance of the event itself that he couldn't find any sanctuary in the resolution.

He had just gotten Neil back. He had just come back. Beaten and bloody and clinging to the concept of his own identity, Neil had come back and it was supposed to be over.

Except, Andrew knew that wasn't the case. The Moriyamas were involved, so of course it wasn't over. He'd let his relief corrupt him into a false sense of security, and he was almost as pissed off with himself about that as he was with Neil for getting into that fucking car.

Andrew tore his stare away from Neil to the broken birdy on the bed when it made a choked sound only slightly muffled by the press of its hands. Jean. Andrew did not like that he was here, did not like that he had a connection with Kevin, and did not appreciate whatever the fuck was going on with him and Renee. He didn't give a shit what Neil or Kevin attempted to pull, but Andrew drew the line. He already had two numbered exy-complexes to keep track of and he had zero interest in acquiring a third.

Apparently, the conversation was over, because after a long moment of anxious silence perforated by the sharp sounds of Jean's nervous breakdown, Neil slid off the bed and turned toward the door. Thank fuck.

Andrew was closer, so he opened the door and stepped out, then kept walking down the hall with every intention of walking right out the front door to have a cigarette. This shit called for nicotine.

He paused, however, at the light tug of Neil's fingers on his sleeve.

Andrew turned around and studied him for a moment. "How does it feel to sell yourself out?" he asked. He wondered if it had been a difficult decision -- giving up every possibility of taking off ever again. By handing himself over to the Moriyamas like this, Neil was locked in. If he tried to run, tried to become the ghost he was before he joined the Foxes, he wouldn't make it as far as the border before all there was left were bones.

But Neil seemed... unbothered.

"Worth every penny," he said, and Andrew could feel the truth in those words, see it in the set of Neil's shoulders. "Let him have however much he wants. I don't need the money. All I need is what he gave me: a promise that I have a future. I have permission—no, orders—to live my life how I want to. I'm going to graduate from Palmetto State in four more years and play Exy until they force me to retire. Maybe I'll even die of old age."

Andrew almost -- almost -- wanted to laugh. "You sound more like them every day," Andrew said, thinking of how desperately each of the Foxes, including Nicky and Aaron, wanted to claw their way toward normalcy, something he had personally long since given up on.

But Neil didn't take the bait. Instead, he looked him right in the eye and pushed.

"You're going to have to come up with something of your own to hold onto," he said, and Andrew felt the muscles in his face twitch and tense in the direction of a scowl. "I'm safe, Kevin doesn't need your protection anymore, Nicky's going back to Erik eventually, and Aaron's got Katelyn. What are you going to live for if you're not playing sheepdog for us?"

"Aaron doesn't have Katelyn," Andrew snapped before he could help himself, clinging onto the one part of that litany that he had any sort of fucking control over. The one part that unsettled him the least.

"Denial doesn't suit you. We talked about this." Asshole. Why was Andrew always finding himself drawn to the pretty fucking assholes.

"You talked," Andrew said. "I didn't listen." If he were still drugged to high heaven, he probably would have stuck his fingers in his ears and started singing 'lalala I can't hear you!' that was how much he did not want to have this conversation. Instead, he prepared to turn and walk away, hopefully driving the point home that he didn't want to listen to whatever the fuck his stupid junkie was getting at.

But then Neil said, "Choose us."

Choose us.

Andrew stopped, his mouth thinning into a hard line, and attempted to grab the tangled mess of fuckery inside his chest and shove it back down into the pit it started to chisel its way out of probably the very instant he swung that stupid yellow racquet and downed Neil when he first tried to run.

"Kevin's going to retake his spot on Court before he graduates," Neil was saying. He stepped closer, and Andrew noticed that the other man's hand was still clutching at his sleeve. "He thinks I can make the cut with enough practice and time. Come with us. Let's all play in the Olympics together one day. We'd be unstoppable."

It would be an easy thing, to turn this conversation (if that's even what this was) back around and make it a part of Neil's exy fixation. But Neil hadn't said 'play exy'.

He'd said 'choose us'.

He'd said 'come with us'.

A clawed hand broke free from the struggle inside his chest and managed to reach high enough to tighten his throat before he swallowed it back down.

"That's your obsession, not mine," he hissed - and he wondered if his voice sounded rough to Neil's ears too, or if it was a tension only detectable to himself.

"Borrow it until you have something of your own." Neil's grip tightened on Andrew's sleeve when Andrew took a step back and started to pull away. Because fuck this. Fuck him. Fuck all of them. That wasn't how this worked. There was no borrowing, and there was no us. Not unless there was something Andrew had that someone else wanted, and as Neil just said -- Kevin didn't need him anymore, and Neil was finally safe.

So why was Neil still holding on? Why was he still talking? Why was he looking at Andrew like he wanted him to... stay?

"Isn't any of this fun?" Neil asked. "Having a place, having a team, a different city every week and cigarettes and drinks in-between? I don't want this to end."

Andrew jerked his arm and this time his sleeve came free from Neil's tattered grasp. "Everything ends," he ground out -- though whether he was trying to tell Neil this fundamental truth or desperately trying to remind himself, he didn't know. Nor was he at all inclined to stand here and figure it out.

Instead, he took the small box he'd been holding and shoved it against Neil's chest until Neil reflexively lifted a hand to catch it. Then, before he could watch as that... that insufferable menace opened it, he turned and walked away.

He told himself that Neil was being stupid and naive and that he was wrong. That he - Andrew - knew how the worked and what Neil was saying wasn't possible, that Andrew didn't even want it to be possible.

And yet... and yet.

And yet, a part of him had to acknowledge that despite everything he had seen and done and said, despite everything he knew of the world... he wanted it too. Which was the other reason he absolutely could not stay in the hall as Neil opened the package Andrew had shoved at him. He may call Neil an idiot half the time, but Andrew knew that Neil wasn't stupid. He would open the package and when he pulled out the arm bands that Andrew had bought for him... he'd know the truth of what Andrew wanted. He'd know the truth that Andrew wanted.

Which... maybe wasn't a horrible thing, but it didn't mean Andrew had to like it.

[pawbean-soda]

catgender short story

hi, leopard here. so recently we started researching xenogenders and neopronouns and i found out about catgender, a label that i find fits me really well. my gender is closely linked to my therianism and my therotype and I'd like to explain it a little. leopards and animals in general lead very physical lives and for me that transfers over in large quantities. i am the most in touch with the body and have the most (or at least very) vivid shifts out of all of us. if you were to ask a cat what their gender was, what would they say? would the cat really pick a human gender or is that just bias from our own human-centric experience. wouldn't the cat have it's own idea of gender derived from its own cat-centric experience. everyone's alter humanity is different, but for me the answer is a resounding yes. both my experience of living in a human body and being a leopard combine to have me end up being a catgender girl.

while researching how catgender pronouns work i found a resounding lack of material representing catgender and catgender pronouns, so i made my own. not sure if this will become a thing or not but here you have it. a short (very short) story featuring a main character who use exclusively catgender pronouns. enjoy.

Eli had lived in vancouver washington paw’s whole life, but at night it was like a new city altogether. the streetlamps and the stars breathing new life into paw’s home. Even the view through paw’s window was wholly different in the dark, mysterious and bathed in a blanket of shadow.

“Hey, are you coming or what?” paws dad yelled up the stairs. Right! Eli was going on a night hike with paws dad. Paw pulled pawself from the window and quickly finished packing paws bag. A flashlight, some snacks, paws phone, bugspray. Eli had been on many hikes before, but never at night. Paw’s dad prided themself on their outdoorsmanship and had taken paw on many, many camping trips and hikes through paws childhood and even now, with Eli being almost seventeen, he was still insistent that paw always come with him on little trips like this. Not that paw had any objections. Paw loved the feeling of wind through paws' hair and bark beneath paws fingers. The forest was always so alive in a way the city wasn't, from the eagles sorting so high paw would have trouble breathing at those heights to the tiny almost too small to see bugs on every leaf and rock. And with paws dad being a veteran hiker, the views were always amazing. Finally with paws bag packed and paws hiking boots securely laced, Eli and paws dad set off in the car to the olympic national park.

Even just a few minutes into the hike Eli was seeing things in a new light. Originally when paws dad suggested this idea, paw thought it would be a dark and spooky experience, but it was more otherworldly and ethereal than scary. All the little white mushrooms that dotted the trail almost seemed to glow in the moonlight and the ferns weaving between the trees glinted like they were catching the stars in their leaves. From way up in the trees Eli could hear leaves rustling and owls hooting and off in the distance a coyote pack rallied for a hunt.

“Careful here this moss is more slippery than it looks” purrs dad was a foot and a half onto a wooden bridge spanning a ravine and had clearly almost slipped, gripping the handrail so hard his knuckles were white. With a good grip on the railing mew started to cross the bridge. Eli was here last summer with paws friend Noah's family. Back then there was a river rushing through the ravine. Looking down, paw saw that in the month's sense purr’s visit it had trickled down into a small stream. “Hey, look at that” paw pointed to something down in the ravine. “Good spotting eli. Those are mule deer”. The deer, a mother and a baby, had stopped at the stream to drink. The mom turned to look up at Eli and mews dad before turning and darting away, her fawn following closely after.

“It should be right, here! Eli it’s over here”, purrs dad was gesturing excitedly at a seaming inconspicuous game trail, which apparently led to the lake. “You know, this was easter to find in the daylight” eli pushed through the bushes and stepped out onto the rocky shore. The lake was almost completely still, with only gentle ripples disturbing the dark clear surface. A reflection of the stars peppered the water like pinholes in blackout curtains, letting the light from the other side seep through and The moon’s watery twin danced with the gentle sway of the waves. It was mesmerizing in a way only nature could be. Eli sat down on the beach, mews feet almost touching the water. Mews dad sat down beside them. For what felt like hours, they sat with the lake and the moon, the forest at their backs. They will have to leave at some point, but not anytime soon.

[0pinnable0]

Guy sat on the lip of the bed, the pleathery bedding gently creasing beneath his weight, his bare legs almost not long enough to reach the floor. His toes were splayed in the plush black carpet below, he enjoyed the feeling, gently wriggling them, pressing the ball of his foot against the pile. His bare ass on the other hand was starting to build a clammy condensation against the suggestive blanket choice. His left hand hand cupped his crotch, barely concealing his junk, still shyly peeking out, even if it had pulled closer from the faint chill of the AC. The cold had a similar firming effect on his nipples, his goosebumped chest and stomach betraying his anxious attempt at controlling his breathing. In his other sweatier hand he held a shiny red collar, thick, glossy, and slightly yielding, some kind of rubber or latex he presumed. Guy would have fixated more on any of these bodily sensations if it weren't for the red dot of the camera on the wall just across from where he sat on the bed. Besides the bed, it was the only thing of real note, the door he had entered seamlessly blending into the faux leather padding of the walls, the floor to ceiling mirror gave him a full view of his trim nude form, and the mood lighting from the lamps providing a soft but effective glow. And of course, on the screen above the camera, the directive, "Put On The Collar".

He had always considered trying some kind of sex work to earn some extra cash, but he didn't expect to have ended so far in the deep end when he had asked Ian for some recommendations. Ian was his long time friend, play partner, and as mysteriously wealthy as he was horny. A living kink encyclopedia from many excursions, though he and Guy's cross over was their shared love of latex. "It's good money, discrete, and hot as hell," Ian's words echoed back through his head. The words on the screen seem to glow brighter. Guy gulped, took a big breath in, and wrapped the collar around his neck.

The two ends met behind his neck and immediately melded into each other. A small shock and shiver ran through his body, he could almost feel a sheen of static buzzing across his skin before it settled down. Guy shut his eyes, bracing himself for what would come next, but after a moment of nothing in particular going on, he opened one eye to check. He rubbed the collar, feeling around. Sure there was no way of seemingly removing it, but it wasn't too bad, besides not being able to slide his fingers under it, but it wasn't doing anything stranger... yet. Grabbing his attention, the words on the screen were gone, a new phrase taking its place, "Dress Yourself".

With what? No sooner had the thought gone through his head, when a small compartment below the camera opened up, and a wide tray slowly pushed itself out. Laying perfectly neat on the tray was a pair of black rubber shoulder length gloves and thigh high socks, darkly gleaming. He decided to start with the socks, seeing as his grip would no doubt be slippier with his fingers coated. He bunched up the sock, pointed his toes, trying to be as aerodynamic, hoping his dusting of body hair wouldn't cause too much friction. On the contrary, his foot slid effortlessly in, the material wrapping itself easily up his ankle, cupping around his calves, up over the knee, resting seamlessly along his upper thigh. Nary a wrinkle in sight, every curve accentuated. He marveled at his jet black limb for a second before getting to work on the other one. He couldn't help rubbing his legs together, the smooth, almost frictionless gliding across each other. The gloves were no different, but altogether started stirring some arousal within him, seeing his fingers perfectly covered, smooth as can be, all the up to the armpit. He couldn't deny how erotic he looked, so covered and so bare all at the same time.

The first tray retreated, replaced by another below. Two flat nipple covers in the same black rubbery material, and altogether more eye brow raising was a rather complicated looking thong. The pouch in the front contained a soft but firm sort of chastity device to keep his dick and balls tucked away. In the rear a kind of lollipop type plug, a small but firm ball connected by a thin tube of the same material. A small tube of what appeared to be lube sat oh so innocently next to it. Guy sighed, he knew something was going inside of him at some point during all of this. Not that he was complaining, he enjoyed being on the receiving end, but with a digital audience, his sheepish side was coming out. Starting with the easier of the two, he placed the nipple covers on, giving them a little teasing pinch for the camera. He was reminded of just how skin tight all of this material was laying on his body, nothing was slipping out of place, not having to pull up the gloves or socks, he wondered just how firmly in place his new underwear would be.

After coating the inside of the thong with a layer of the lube, Guy faced the camera. He stepped into the thong, pulling it up until it fit snugly in the dip of his hip and waist. In one hand he grabbed his junk, and in the other the pouch, maneuvering the one into the other. With a slick shlup he felt his balls fit into the soft but sculpting pouch, his dick snugly held down inside the firmer, but still comfortable cage. From the outside it looked like a smooth almost spherical bulge. He rubbed his gloved fingers across his crotch, which responded with a faint tickle and sensual pressure. Turning around he leaned his torse against the bed, pushing his ass out to the camera. He grabbed the ball of the plug, and with the other swiped some more lube around his hole, starting to finger it too, the pleasant sensation of his glove fingers working their way inside of him, letting out some quiet grunts and moans. Feeling just loosened enough, he pushed the ball against the hole, unnaturally slick, it popped in with a slurp, eliciting a gasp from Guy, and slid inside, almost as if trying to pull itself deeper.

Guy turned around, sitting back on the bed, getting a glance of himself in the mirror. He had never dressed this, well, sluttily before, but the twitching in his groin, and restlessly groping fingers made it clear just how hot and bothered he was getting. The retreating of the second tray got his attention, the third tray replacing it. On it were four cuffs, one for both wrists and ankles, in the same shiny red as his collar. Guy shrugged, seemed like a step back after the underwear, casually slipping a cuff around one of his ankles. The same electric shiver went through his body, he was now starting to question what exactly each item was doing to him. Pulling on the other cuffs, the back to back twiches making him clench down on the ball inside him, which he noticed seemed to be ever so perfectly pressing against his prostate. The third tray retreated, and the words on the screen vanished.

"Audience Selection: ______", words flipped through the blank spot like a roulette wheel. Wonder what they're picking, did they pick these out before I got here? Guy's thoughts wondered as the word shuffling slowed before landing on "Cat Suit". That's a shame, Guy thought, Having to put a catsuit over all of these fun accessories. Suddenly he felt the collar and cuffs tingle. Blobs and lines of red started to spread out from the gear onto the black. What? Guy stared in amazement, holding up a hand. Five small blobs seemed to crawl their way up to the tips of his fingers forming small paw pads, a larger blob soon joining on his palms. He pulled up one of his feet finding the same thing happening, the sock shifting into individual toes, or rather as it was becoming clearer, paws. They swelled slightly too, just to give a softer, toylike quality. He watched as a red line surged its way up each shin, to knee, up the thigh, from wrist to forearm to bicep, pooling around where the black garments met his bare skin. Then he felt an almost wet sensation at his neck.

He turned towards the mirror to see a viscous red substance begin to drip and spread from the collar, coating his skin. It crept down his neck beginning to envelop what remained of his nakedness, but his attention was on what appeared to be a glowing hologram ring around his neck, with a tag on the bag. He twisted, turned to make out the stoplight red glowing words, "Cat Toy". Guy was jolted back to his body as the red rubbery substance reached his groin, leaving only his face untouched. Looking himself over he flexed his new paws, these are pretty cool- whoa, he gasped, feeling a pressure at his asshole. He sat back on the bed, pulling up his legs staring between his legs in the mirror to see what was going on. The red had coated his cheeks and was now working its way in? under? through? the thong. He could see and feel a clear depression over his hole, and at the same time a little nub began to poke out right at his tail bone. As the red pushed in, so too did the growing tail push out, Guy moaning at the fullness. What felt like thick tendrils and nubs of rubber were pushing their way in and against his inner walls, working their way deeper, the black ball of the thong now pressed firmly against his prostate, constantly low level pressure.

Guy watched in amazement as a slightly puffy and gaping asshole formed on his new body, as a lazily swaying cat tail finished filling out below it. He took one of his pawed fingers and ran it around his hole, closing his eyes and moaning at the sensitivity, making him clench his toes and shiver. The suit wasn't done though and he could feel it pushing deeper inside, he sat up on his knees, feeling it worm its way towards his second inner hole. His breathing grew hot and heavy, his insides putting up some resistance before the insistent ministrations of the rubber made their way deeper than anything had been inside him before, letting out a higher uncontrollable moan. He rubbed his lower belly and could actually see the mass pressing up against from inside of him. Its pace slowed now that it was firmly anchored inside of him. His dick was throbbing, trying to get harder, trying to form any semblance of an erection, but it could only leak inside its current prison.

Guy writhed on the bed, his new tail flicking, hole reflexively clenching and unclenching, grabbing at the bedding and his bulge with his paws. His eyes starting to glaze over with pleasure until he saw the screen change once more, back to the "Dress Yourself" Directive. On the new tray was a pair of shiny red cat ear headphones, with a darkened visor. Not totally lost in his horny haze, Guy suddenly had a small twinge of uncertainty. Everything he'd put on before somehow had felt okay, despite it's unnatural and bodily invading qualities, because it was on his body, not his head. Would this cover his face, sure his eyes, but just how far would it go. The words on the screen glowed, the plug within him pulsed, his heart beat a little faster. He reached out a paw for the the headset and with another deep breath slipped it over his head.

Immediately all the sound, what little there was, cut out. It was almost perfectly silent, save a faint hum. His vision too, while darker, wasn't nearly as opaque as it seemed from the other side. The cat ears too sat nicely on his head, the headphones discretely flat against the sides. Then the electric shiver and he felt the red rubber start to slick back his head. He took a large gasp of air, but his fear and precaution were assuaged as it only covered the back of his head, sides of his face, and his neck, before connecting and melding with the collar. Now all that remained was his nose and mouth, the flesh both a sensual reminder of what was being covered and encased, but also a tantalizing final stretch to cover and invade. The hum in his ear was interrupted by a slightly robotic voice, not quite flat, but with a deep dulcet quality, "GOOD TOY" it offered. Over and over it, it seemed to offer as a soothing phrase as the suit now gripping tightly to Guy's body started to drive him deeper and deeper into a spiral of desire. His vision too began to fuzz around the corners, shifting optical patterns of static capturing his attention.

The corners of his mouth started to slack, his eyelids drooping. One hand massaging his junk, the other leisurely fingering his hole. It all felt so good, it all felt so right, it was so easy to give into it. Another tray revealed itself, this time with a red gag. Two short nostril plugs, and a longer oral gag, a slender sloping tentacle, revealing on the side a feline like maw. He picked up the final piece, cupping it like a lover's face, "GOOD TOY... GOOD TOY... GOOD TOY". He lifted it up, the very tip of the mouth gag grazing his lips. He opened his mouth wide, letting it slide deeper inside. He watched himself peripherally in the mirror swallowing down the gag, and barely notice a lock symbol floating by the "Cat Suit" label on his neck. His gag reflex almost forgotten, he could feel the nostril plugs starting to tickle his nose, the drip and stretch and grope as the sides of the maw desperately reached out to join the rest of the suit and surround his being for good. And he was ready, he was a good toy, he was- suddenly the words on the screen shifted, "RESIST".

Suddenly his blood ran cold. The substance on his body an alien creature, the gag and plug invading further than they should, the droning in his ears and eyes, clearly some kind of suggestive mind control. His paw fingers ripped the gag out of his mouth, it flopped onto the bed. He moaned, a mixture of fear and pleasure, "Help! Please! Get it off of me! Its too deep!" He pleaded into the camera. The ball against his prostate buzzed to life, the end of plug writhed deep within him, sending him to the floor squirming. He pulled himself together enough to grab at the tail and pull. Somehow despite the slickness of his entire being, he could feel something shift inside of him, and with another tug, and deep groan he felt the plug inside of him start to pull out. The suit looked like it was tearing, open, almost cartoonish, he could see his naked skin as he pulled harder. He gasped as the plug, which had molded itself so perfectly to his insides was exiting inch by inch, somehow hollow and solid, and with any falter in strength, desperately trying to wiggle its way back into his depths.

He pulled himself partially up onto the bed for support only to come face to gag with the maw. It hurled itself at his face, sliding effortlessly down his mid-yelling mouth. Losing his balance and grip, the plug slither back inside of him, as his throat bulged, his body contorting with tension and pleasure. He'd never felt so full in his life, and as the rubbery substance finished melding together, so contained. He pulled at the mask, trying to find any grip, any nook or seam, or hole to rescue his face, but to no luck. He coughed, feeling the gag reshape itself in his mouth, feeling he could now move his tongue, coated in rubbery, a lube like saliva coating his dulled teeth and throat. He felt his ass too gain the same lube like wetness, he wondered if the two gags had somehow met each other in the middle, if he could get out of this suit. The lock symbol on the collar closed shut, and the words on the screen shifted once more, this time to "Surrender".

"GOOD TOY" with each utterance the fear and panic began to leave his body. "GOOD TOY" The pleasure returned, the dull throb in his crotch met with fondling fingers. "GOOD TOY" Mewling moans escaped his lips, he crawled up onto the bed, starting to hump, and grope his body. Suddenly the seamless door opened, and in stepped a familiar face.

"Look at you," Ian smiled. Guy turned to see Ian standing naked in the doorway, erection proud and throbbing, the new center to Guy's universe. "Let's give them a good show shall we?"

[coffyao]

if brown leaves could be saved

Summary:

_______ an alternate universe where a young seungbae is transferred to yoonbum's high school for unknown reasons. and from there, do they start getting to know each other, but not without the emotions that start to rise, and the loneliness that they realise they might have in common in.

link to my A03:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/52761079/chapters/133446979

“Introduce yourself to the class.”

He took the piece of chalk from the teacher's desk and started writing down his name on the chalkboard.

Once he finished, he moved away to the side and straightened his posture, his hands clamped a little too tightly, and his pupils, darting everywhere except for the classroom that was right in front of him.

His perfectionist ways were obvious, as his pens were neatly tucked away in his blazer pocket, and his school tie was perfectly aligned.

But the braces that poke through his teeth, and the glasses that he wore along with it was a dead giveaway that he was a square.

But when he finally spoke up, his voice had erased any pre-conceived notion that was thought of him, the sincerity in him truly shining through.

 “My name is Yang Seungbae.”

Yang Seungbae.

He was then allocated to a seat with another student at the front, a seat befitting for someone like him. He was most likely someone studious and did his homework as soon as it was assigned.

Yoonbum laid his head on the desk and tuned himself out to the rest of the class.

________________

Once he woke up, the class was mostly sparse, where the usual dim sunlight poked through his heavy eyelids and his chest aroused with existential dread.

He quickly gathered the workbooks on his desk and shoved them into his backpack, leaving the classroom altogether and going somewhere where he could peacefully stew in his thoughts.

He goes into the library, the middle-ground location that was a bore for the popular cliques; but a hotspot for people who aspired to be someone one day.

But he was neither.

He didn’t how to talk to people, and he had no clue what kind of person he wanted to be.

He just liked the library because of the quietude within it, along with having a good number of books that provided a distraction for his fractured mind.

But it also helped his reputation, because at least his classmates could chalk up his antisocial tendencies to being a pompous bookworm, rather than being a useless outcast.

He walked into one of the aisles at the end, where most of its shelves contained fiction books, but he had only one genre in mind and one only.

A tragic romance.

When he picked up Anna Karenina a few months ago, a decision made on a whim, he fell in love with the book's heroine, and her morally questionable decisions.

But once he managed to finish it, he couldn’t shake off the emptiness that started to consume his heart once again, so he had to fill the void.

He started pulling out a few books at once, flicking through a few pages of them before putting them back, dissatisfaction running through his mind.

However, he decided to continue his search diligently, gathering a handful before sitting down on the floor and crossing his legs.

As he started going through the books again, his hyper-focus was pulled away by a voice with a prominent lisp.

“…sorry to bother you.”

Looking up, Yoonbum recognized him, his lambent eyes piercing through his own and needlessly apologetic in his tone, even with the flustered look on his face.

its Seungbae again.

“I’m looking for a book on law enforcement…but I can’t find it here for some reason.”

Yoonbum puts his books to the side.

“Why didn’t you ask the librarian?”

Seungbae looked down, stuffing his hands inside his blazer pockets.

“I wanted to find it myself.”

…That’s silly.

Yoonbum stands up and points his finger toward the far-left side, his least favorite part of the library but likely had the book Seungbae needed.

“If you go there, that’s where they keep the non-fiction section.”

He needed to quickly go back to book-searching. This was taking too much of his time.

“Ah damn, I’m such an idiot. I didn’t even think to look there.”

Seungbae then held out his hand, the relief on his face apparent by the grin on his face, radiant and yet another indicator that he is everything that Yoonbum isn’t.

Yoonbum tentatively puts his hand on his, and Seungbae gives it one strong shake.

“Thank you.”

Seungbae walks past and then suddenly stops, his eyes once again focused on him.

“…I’m new by the way. you’re in my class, right? What’s your name?”

Yoonbum hated this question because once it was asked, it would mean he and the other person would form some type of relationship. It also meant there was a potential they would become close, but it would come at the expense of hiding the worst parts of himself.

“…it's y-yoonbum.”

And that includes his desire to want to keep them for himself.

[bluerose5]

An Easy Job

Yes, I made a fic inspired by my recent post about Hawke and Anders meeting earlier than canon. Click here for the link to read on ao3.

Rating: M

Pairing: Pre-Relationship Male Hawke/Anders

Word Count: 6,655

Content Warnings for Blood, Injury, Slavers, & Violence

Summary: Garrett's line of work sometimes required that he operated out of Darktown.

It wasn't quite how he imagined meeting the Undercity's healer, but he made the most of the encounter.

...

Garrett Hawke was told that it would be an easy job.

He was a fool to simply take Athenril's word on that, but her information usually proved to be somewhat reliable most days.

Turned out, that day wasn't one of them.

Meet their middleman, retrieve their cargo, and return to base. It was supposed to be that simple.

As soon as Garrett showed up to the spot where their meeting was arranged, he knew that something was off, and it wasn't because they were prowling around the murkiest depths of Darktown either.

No, at least that was to be expected. In their line of work, dealing with the criminal elements all over Kirkwall was a necessary evil, and that included those who operated out of Darktown as well.

Other than the fact that he was an apostate in a city overflowing with templars, the reason why Garrett was so on edge all of a sudden was because not a soul was in sight.

Cooped up in the alley together, Carver hovered at Garrett’s side, his fingers twitching for his weapon.

"I don't like this," Carver said, his brow furrowed as he surveyed their surroundings. "He's late."

"That, he is," Garrett replied. "I'm usually all about being fashionably late to parties, but you would think there would be some semblance of professionalism when it came down to business. I mean, it's everyone's coin on the line here."

Carver scoffed, his face pinched up in disgust.

"Did you expect any less from that slippery bastard? What happened anyhow?" he asked. "I thought, after that last stunt he pulled, we weren't gonna run any more jobs with good ole Slack-Jawed Pete."

"We weren't, but—"

"But things change, apparently," Carver muttered. "Without my input, of course."

Garrett glared at him.

"But," he said, continuing his previous statement, "things came up. Sapphire was our original contact, but something went down at The Blooming Rose, so he had to fill in for the night."

"Too bad," Carver griped, his arms crossed over his chest. "I bet you would have loved to see your boyfriend. Now, you have to settle for Pete's ugly mug instead."

"He's not—" Garrett grumbled in frustration. "Listen, Athenril promised a big payout for this. If things go sideways, then I…"

He trailed off when shadows fell over them.

Both he and Carver tensed, their eyes trained on the group that gathered at the end of the alley.

"'If' things go sideways?" Carver whispered under his breath.

As if to hammer home his point, he elbowed his brother in the side.

Garrett grumbled.

"Okay, when they go sideways," he corrected, watching the man at the head of the pack step forward.

"Well, well, well, what do you know?" he hummed, eyes narrowed at them with a sinister grin. "That nug-for-brains idiot was right, men. Here we have two strong, able-bodied, Fereldan men, just ripe for the taking."

"And who in the bloody Void are you?" Carver spat.

The stranger merely shrugged off his question.

"Names have no meaning for men in your position," the fellow answered. "Either you submit to what we have in mind, or you fight us and lose. Your choice."

The group started to close ranks around them. Garrett counted about ten of them altogether, but he and Carver refused to stand down.

"Well, that doesn't seem like much of a choice at all," Garrett deadpanned. "Where is my secret third option? For instance, I could tell you lot to scram, and you scamper off like a pup with its tail between its legs before this ends badly for you."

Speaking of dogs, what a perfect day for Garrett to leave Barkspawn at home with his mother and uncle.

Easy job, his ass.

At least Carver backed him up, though.

"Or," he said, "there's the option where we go ahead and kill those who stand in our way, then we go on about our day."

"Even better," Garrett agreed.

They readied their weapons, a greatsword from Carver's days of battling the Blight and a battleaxe that was passed down from Malcolm to Garrett.

The nameless leader laughed at their audacity.

"Cheeky buggers, aren't you? No matter." He shrugged. "The clients we sell to will enjoy breaking your spirit." He glanced at Garrett then, at the pointed tips of his ears peeking through his hair. "And they'll pay even more for a couple of mutts. Half-elves are a hot commodity right now."

Garrett clenched his jaw, rage threatening to boil over inside him, but he breathed through it, forced himself to harness that anger instead.

He and Carver had been shifting towards the other end of the alleyway, but several others suddenly appeared out of nowhere, as if reading their minds. They spread out and closed in, not much room left between them to slip through.

Shit, they were surrounded.

Carver spoke then, a futile attempt to buy them some time while Garrett recited an incantation under his breath.

"What quarrel do you even have with us?" Carver snarled. "Why target us? As if Fereldans don't already get kicked enough while we're down, especially 'round these parts."

Sparks of electricity hummed at Garrett’s fingertips, but he knew that he was hardly casting at full-strength. Spells oftentimes relied on the most minute details to work at their most effective states. The strength and volume with which a spell was spoken. The precise movements and positioning of one's hands and body. The pool of mana available to the mage. The very fabric of the Veil itself at any given location. All of it contributed, but Garrett didn't have the time nor the distance to unleash his full potential.

Still, he had to do something.

Luckily for them, bastards like these, especially those in charge, loved to hear themselves talk.

"Ah," their good friend Nameless tsked. "It's nothing personal, you see. It's just business."

Tension built in the air, but the group didn't question it, not yet.

The hairs on Garrett’s arm stood straight.

"Who put you up to this?" Carver retorted. "Was it Pete?"

Of course it was, but let them feed into the bastard's ego, let his crew think that they had control.

"A mutual acquaintance was offered triple what your pitiful excuse of a job could provide. Tell me, how could anyone possibly turn down such a handsome sum? Of course, that was just for him to hand your cargo over to me." Nameless smirked. "He threw in your location as a bonus."

Carver and Garrett exchanged a pointed glance.

"Great, so he sold us out to a bunch of worthless slaver trash," Carver said.

A sweltering heat started to grow around them.

Nameless snickered, spreading his arms out on display.

"Such a weighted term. I prefer to think of myself as a procurer of fine goods and services."

Garrett tasted a metallic tang on the back of his tongue. The air was thick, similar to the moments before a thunderstorm lit up the countryside with bouts of lightning.

"Call it whatever you like," Carver drawled, "but if it looks like a duck and quacks like a duck…"

"Then, it's a duck," Garrett finished, eyeing their enemies up and down. "Although, I figure they're probably smarter than your average slaver."

In the blink of an eye, he brought up a wall of fire between the main group and themselves.

Within the same motion, Garrett turned and let that tension pull taut, snapping it without hesitation.

Those sparks from his fingers grew into large bolts of electricity.

With a single word, he unleashed the full brunt of his attack onto the few enemies blocking their escape. Unfortunately, as he predicted, the spell was nowhere near concentrated enough to down them for good, but it still gave them an advantage. One after another, their enemies seized, frozen into place.

Garrett and Carver unleashed battle cries before rushing forward.

They only had enough time to take down one person each, the flames at their back already dying down, weak enough for the rest of the slavers to join the fray.

Metal clashed, and blows were exchanged.

Outnumbered as they were, they held their own.

Until they couldn't.

Nameless faced off with Garrett the second he could reach him, his eyes wild, crazed.

His face was split open by an unhinged smile.

"You think that your buddy Pete didn't air all of your dirty laundry to us beforehand?" All pretenses were gone by then, his expression tightening with more of his crew slain from their efforts. "Even rumors sometimes hold a grain of truth to them."

He scraped the blades of his daggers along one another, then stalked forward.

Compared to the others, it was no wonder why Nameless was the leader of the group.

He was beyond skilled with his blades. Wielding them was second nature to him. He fought on a whole other level than the others. Each attack was a flurry of activity, heavily reliant on speed and dexterity to strike.

Garrett parried and blocked, but he barely had time to swing his axe around before the next onslaught started. Sweat beaded at his temple, but Nameless kept pushing forward, relentless in his pursuit of victory.

Then, he got a hit in.

His blade sliced through the skin of Garrett’s arm, barely more than a scratch, but it was enough to work its magic, so to speak.

Within seconds, Garrett’s vision blurred. The whole world spun. It tilted, and it–it wouldn't stay still.

His energy was quickly waning, mana depleted.

He shook his head, but then he lost all sense of direction. His body refused to respond to his commands.

One step alone sent him stumbling backwards.

Nameless smirked.

"What—" Garrett gasped. His stomach lurched. "What did you—"

"Have to love magebane. Expensive shit, but it gets the job done."

Disoriented and confused, none of the words were sinking in. They all went in one ear and out the other.

Garrett didn't even notice the rogue sneaking up behind him, not until it was too late.

At the sound of footsteps creeping closer, he turned in place at the last second, right as the knife sank into the flesh at his side.

He was lucky, though, considering the original target had been his spine.

With a roar of pain, Garrett balled up his fist and landed a blow to his assailant's face, hard enough to make him stagger before Garrett hit him again. This time, directly in the chest.

Winded, the poor bastard was knocked down onto his back, staring up at Garrett, wide-eyed with fear.

When he brought up his axe, the man had the audacity to plead for his life.

Unfortunately for him, those worthless pleas fell on deaf ears.

Garrett cleaved him in half, his cries cut short.

He stepped on the body to yank his axe free, but he knew that he was taking too long, the dagger still embedded in his side.

When he felt a cool breeze at his back, Garrett abandoned his weapon, turning in place as Nameless's dagger glinted in the darkness.

The blade lashed out into a vicious arc. It cut through Garrett’s cheap, leather armor, splitting open the skin of his chest.

Garrett was shoved off-balance. His knees buckled.

He clutched at his burning chest as even more poison entered his system. His muscles twitched, uncontrollable.

The metallic taste of blood pooled into his mouth.

He was burning alive from the inside-out. Desperately, he scratched at his skin, feeling as if it was melting, sloughing off away from the bones and flesh.

Red stained his lips when he coughed, collapsing onto the filthy ground, weak and cold and tired.

Nameless loomed over him with a triumphant sneer.

Garrett turned over, tried to crawl away, but all that earned him was a boot to his leg.

Nameless stomped down onto the limb with a vengeance.

It snapped under the force.

Garrett could barely cry out before he was choking on blood and bile, attempting to cough it up, all to no avail.

He caught sight of Carver, who met his eyes, cornered by three men.

Time itself seemed to slow in that single second.

Garrett’s heart raced. Each beat pounded loudly in his ears, deafening in volume.

Carver shouted out to him, but Garrett didn't hear.

All he could think was that he needed to help.

He needed to get Carver out of there.

He couldn't fail him, too. Not like how he failed Bethany.

Garrett scraped at his mana, gathered the smallest scraps that yet remained.

He focused then with Carver as his center.

In a blast of force magic, the three men surrounding him were tossed back at a blinding speed.

If the initial impact of their heads against cold, stone walls didn't kill them, the whiplash alone from such a pull would have surely snapped their necks.

Nameless dragged Garrett up by his hair.

"You ruined everything," he hissed into his ear, "and now you will pay."

The barest whisper of metal grazed along his throat, pressed in until a tiny drop of blood beaded to the surface.

His body numb and limp, Garrett closed his eyes, awaiting the final swipe of his blade.

"No!" Carver yelled.

He stormed forward, running into them so that they were all sent sprawled out onto the ground.

Their weapons slid from their grasp, but Carver was quick to recover.

He reached out and grabbed the nearest weapon, one of the slaver's daggers.

Before Nameless could get up, Carver was on him in a fury. 

"You can't have him!" Carver snarled into his face, teeth bared.

The blade sank deep into his chest.

"I won't let you take my brother!"

Over and over again, he stabbed him, blinded by rage, fueled by bloodlust. A red haze clouded his vision, and he screamed out all of his pain and frustration.

Garrett struggled to breathe.

He blinked past the dizziness, reaching out for him.

"Car–Carver," he gurgled.

With a final plunge of the knife, Carver stared down at the lifeless body beneath him.

Then, he glanced up at the carnage around them.

Bloodied hands trembled, but not because of all the death. 

It wasn't his first kill, after all.

But it was the first time that a job went so astronomically terrible that one of them faced near-certain death.

Between the two of them, Carver never expected to come so close to losing Garrett.

He scrambled over to him on his hands and knees. His hands hovered over his body, uncertain.

"I need to pick you up," Carver warned him.

Garrett’s head lolled to the side. He managed a single bob of his head, his eyes threatening to roll back.

With their weapons long-forgotten, Carver adjusted himself to a better position for leverage. He worked his hands carefully underneath Garrett’s body, then lifted him up into his arms.

"Fuck!"

His blood was instantly lit aflame. Garrett cried out as white-hot pain lashed out within him. He panted out between clenched teeth, his chest heaving with every breath. Blood and spit sprayed from his mouth, dripping down his chin.

Carver adjusted his grip, careful not to nudge the dagger wedged into Garrett's side.

"Hang on, big brother," he told him, his tone forceful yet desperate. "I—"

An idea hit him then.

"The healer!" he exclaimed. 

He set out without delay, his stride long and purposeful. Garrett groaned as he was jostled within his grasp.

"Wha—"

"Remember what Lirene mentioned the other day? The Fereldans in the refugee camps? There's a healer in Darktown! What did they say? What did they say?" he muttered to himself. Outside of the alley, he glanced around for help, but people turned away at the first sign of trouble. "Shit, shit, shit."

Garrett wheezed out, "The–The lantern."

Realization dawned on him.

Lirene's words came rushing back to him in a snap.

"'To find the healer,'" Carver repeated, "'look for the lit lantern.'"

He hurried in search for it, refusing to fall victim to anyone else looking for easy prey.

However, when all seemed lost, Carver found it.

The last thing that Anders expected that evening was for someone to come barreling through the clinic doors. 

He had a few patients still there when it happened. A struggling mother-to-be whose pregnancy was taking its toll, a young lad who was fighting a rather nasty illness that spread to his lungs, and an elderly gentleman whose constant aches and pains exacerbated to the point that it gave him the fits.

Anders had been tending to the bedridden mother when a tall, bulky man all but crashed through his doors.

Caught off guard by the sudden intrusion, his skin flashed bright with light, there and gone in the blink of an eye.

Anders instinctively placed himself between the man and his patient, but that was when he noticed the person cradled in the stranger's arms.

"Help!" Carver croaked. Searching the room, his gaze soon landed on Anders, making a beeline for Darktown's renowned healer. "Help us, please!"

As they neared, Anders took one look at them, covered in blood and clad in armor, and started to shake his head.

"Oh, no, no, no," he snapped, barging right up to them to try and shove them out. "You lot should know by now, I don't want any trouble with the local gangs. Keep your turf wars out of my clinic and away from my patients!"

"Look!" Carver retorted. "We don't want any trouble. I just want him healed. What would you take in exchange, hm? Protection? We can provide that in exchange for your services."

"Because you two did a fine job of protecting yourselves," Anders deadpanned.

"We were ambushed!"

"Listen, I don't need your protection, nor do I want it."

"Please!" Carver insisted. "He's my brother." His eyes glazed over with unshed tears. He stared down at Garrett, lower lip wobbling. "I—" His voice cracked. "I can't lose him, too."

Garrett stared up at him, then glanced over at Anders.

Anders instantly met his eyes and held his head up high, curious about what he would say.

After a moment of contemplation, Garrett turned to Carver again and whispered hoarsely.

"Let's go."

"What?!" Carver hissed. "Garrett, by the time we find another healer—"

"We can't draw attention to this place or these people," Garrett countered, surprisingly lucid for the moment. "We'd have even bigger problems to worry about if we bring the templars down on us all." Jaw clenched, he repeated himself, firmly so. "Let's go."

He shuddered, curling in on himself in an attempt to keep warm.

His skin, once a warm shade of brown, paled in comparison.

He broke out into a cold sweat.

Watching him closely, Anders pursed his lips.

Against his better judgment, he relented.

"Come with me," he ordered. When Carver didn't immediately follow, he turned to them with a curt look. "Now. If he has any chance of surviving, he needs to be treated, and soon."

His words spurred Carver into action, following close at his heel.

"Set him down there," Anders said, waving towards an empty bed. "Carefully, mind you."

Once Garrett was laid out atop the cot, Anders hovered his hands over him, surveying the damage.

His brow furrowed in confusion.

"There's something else here beyond the more obvious wounds," Anders noted, swallowing thickly. "A poison in his blood." He glanced between them. "Do you know what it is?"

When they remained silent, he scowled.

"Listen to me, if I don't know what I'm dealing with here, then I don't know how to treat it, especially if I have the means to craft an antidote," Anders stated. "Your other injuries won't mean much if a large enough dose of that poison got into your system already. Your heart might have already been damaged, for all we know. Help me, so that I can help you."

Garrett and Carver exchanged a wary look, then Garrett nodded in acquiescence.

"It was—" He sucked in a sharp breath, his body’s injuries catching up to him yet again. "It was magebane."

This time, when his eyes rolled back, Garrett promptly passed out.

Anders gaped, but he didn't have time to think.

He needed to act.

"You." He pointed to Carver. "Close the clinic doors and lock them. Come back, and I'll walk you through how to make the potion we need while I try to stabilize his wounds."

It took him a second to process the orders he was given, but he quickly nodded, prying himself away from Garrett's side to do as he was told.

Anders took a deep breath to steady himself.

Right. 

He knew what to do. It was all a matter of execution from there.

First things first, he had to stop as much bleeding as possible, which meant taking advantage of Garrett’s unconscious state for the time being, mostly to minimize any pain or struggling. Anders quickly healed the deep gash across his chest, flesh and muscle knitting itself back into place before his very eyes.

From there, Anders turned his attention to his broken leg. A piece of bone protruded from the skin, but Anders has seen worse. 

He had treated worse.

He stopped to down a lyrium potion, tossing the flask aside as he returned to Garrett’s side, his mana rejuvenated.

He knew from experience that mending bone was a huge drain.

Taking the broken limb in hand, he harnessed Justice's power for a split second, his otherworldly strength giving the boost that was needed to set the bone properly back into place.

Magic poured from his fingertips. Slowly but surely, the limb began to repair itself under Anders' guidance.

Carver returned to his side, but Anders didn't dare look away from his work, brow furrowed in concentration.

"Okay," Anders told him. "Follow my instructions exactly as I say."

While he continued to cast his spell, Carver ran around his potion-making station as he directed, mixing various ingredients together, grinding them into dust or paste using his mortar and pestle. Some of the herbs were unfamiliar to Carver, but others were common enough to recognize at first glance.

For the most part, the recipe called for equal parts embrium and elfroot with a dash of Prophet's Laurel for that little something extra.

When Anders finally moved on to the dagger in Garrett's side, he knew that he had to be quick yet precise.

Once he removed the blade, he started to heal Garrett's wounds from the inside, gradually working his way out. Jagged edges slid closed until only scars remained.

"Mix what you have with one of my lyrium potions," Anders said to Carver. "Take it slow. This is the last step, but the lyrium is supposed to act as a catalyst of sorts. If you rush the process, it might just ruin the whole thing. Stir the concoction until it is evenly mixed through."

After Carver finished, he brought the flask to Anders.

With a whispered spell or two, Anders' palms heated up, brought the liquid to a boil, and then cooled it back down to room temperature.

Swirling it around in slow, even circles, he reached out to cup the back of Garrett’s head.

Garrett stirred at his touch. His eyes opened only a sliver, struggling to focus before they locked onto Anders.

"The magebane is still in your system," Anders explained to him. "I won't be able to get it out with my spells alone. It's resistant to magic. Do you understand?"

Had he not been looking for it, Anders would have missed it.

There was a small nod of his head, barely there, but Garrett managed one nonetheless.

Anders took a deep, bracing breath.

"I need you to drink this potion. It should act as a counteragent to clear your blood," Anders continued, "but it won't be pleasant."

“Heh.” Garrett spared him a ghost of a smile, the corner of his lips twitching in amusement. “About as ‘pleasant’ as getting stabbed then?”

Anders raised an eyebrow at him.

“Something like that.”

Incredible. Even in his current state, barely able to draw breath, he wasted what precious few he had to crack a joke.

Part of Anders could respect it, at least.

“Here,” he said. “Help me sit him up.”

With Carver’s help, they were able to support his weight and better angle him. That way, he hopefully wouldn’t choke.

Anders pressed the flask to Garrett’s lips, slowly tilting it back.

“Drink,” he encouraged.

Difficult as it was to do so, Garrett obeyed, swallowing the first drops that slipped past his lips, followed by the next.

The taste definitely left much to be desired, but he focused on Anders instead.

Who was this selfless man, hiding out in Kirkwall’s Undercity?

Breathing through his nose, he choked down all of the potion, down to the very last drop.

Once he finished, they set him back down onto the cot, but the antidote was already kicking in by then.

If the magebane felt like fire in his veins, then the antidote felt as if his entire body was being burned alive.

Garrett’s back bowed off of the bed. He clawed at his throat, his mouth agape as a silent scream tried to break free.

His heart crashed against his ribcage, threatening to burst free.

For a split second, he collapsed, but that didn’t last long before Garrett started to writhe in full-blown agony, begging for someone to make it stop, make it stop, make it stop…

The torches in the clinic blazed in response.

Spikes of ice erupted from the ground around the cot.

Both Anders and Carver just barely managed to escape its reach.

“Maker’s breath,” Anders gasped.

Quickly, he dispelled Garrett’s magic with his own, holding the spell long enough to retrieve one of those herbaceous powders that Carver whipped up.

“Restrain him,” Anders barked out. “Before he hurts himself or anyone else!”

Carver rushed forward to do so, pinning his brother in place while he screeched, bucking against his hold.

“If you’re going to do something,” Carver snapped, “then do it now!”

Anders didn’t have to be told twice.

Dipping his fingers into the powder, he closed the distance to draw a sigil upon Garrett’s forehead, all while reciting the incantation for another spell.

After it was placed, Anders pressed his palm to Garrett’s forehead and hissed the final word, filled with intent and purpose.

It was a matter of the mind then; but in Garrett’s condition, it took little for Anders to overpower him, his focus and willpower dedicated solely to casting the spell.

The sigil lit up beneath his palm, and Garrett’s eyes slid closed.

He fell limp, unconscious once more.

Carver looked between the two, cautious of their power.

“What did you do?”

“I cast a spell to help him sleep off the effects of the antidote,” Anders answered. “Hopefully, now, he won’t feel a thing.”

After that, healing the rest of his injuries was simple, as easy as breathing.

While he worked, Anders did his best to assure him.

"You should go home and rest," he said. "I'll send word if anything happens, Serah…?"

He trailed off in question.

Carver pursed his lips, but he figured that he earned his name at least.

"Hawke," he introduced. "My name is Carver Hawke, and that man that you saved?" He nodded towards his brother. "His name is Garrett."

“I wish we had met under better circumstances then, but I am Anders.”

“Not your real name, I take it?” Carver asked.

Anders flashed him a secretive smile.

“It is now.”

“Right…” Carver sighed with a shake of his head, running his fingers through his hair, only to wrinkle his nose when he remembered the blood on his hands. “I do need to go get cleaned up. And I should really try to retrieve our weapons, if no one else got to them first.”

“Go do what you have to. I’ll need to watch over your brother anyways to monitor his condition. He’ll be safe here,” Anders promised.

If nothing else, Anders was sure of that.

“He better be,” Carver warned. He weighed his options for a moment, then agreed, albeit reluctantly. “I’ll be back.”

“Yeah, I’m counting on it,” Anders grumbled.

After Carver left, Anders locked the clinic up behind him. He rounded on all of his other patients, setting them at ease, before he eventually returned to Garrett’s side.

With a wet cloth in hand, he knelt near him, carefully washing the blood from his face.

He chose to ignore how his heart skipped a beat.

Dark brown curls clung to clammy skin.

Against his better judgment, Anders reached out and brushed the strands out of his eyes. 

Even asleep as he was, Anders could recall with perfect clarity how it felt to be on the receiving end of his stare.

Part of him was curious, wanting to trace the tattoos that framed his face, or perhaps the swipe of red painted across his nose.

Before he could act on such impulses, he reined himself in, withdrawing his touch as he scolded himself.

Such actions, let alone such thoughts, were hardly appropriate.

Anders busied himself with cleaning the clinic, taking stock of his supplies, but that only kept him busy for so long.

Before he knew it, he was back at Garrett’s side. He had dragged a chair up next to his cot, watching over him with a fine mixture of curiosity and fascination.

“Garrett Hawke, huh?” Anders murmured. He crossed his arms over his chest, his head cocked to the side. After a moment, he groaned, dragging his hands down over his face. “Andraste have mercy, Anders, what did you get yourself into?”

Not that he was going to receive an answer any time soon.

By the time Garrett awakened, night had turned to morning, dusk to dawn. What little sunlight there was streamed into the clinic. All other patients were gone.

An old, worn-out blanket had been draped over him some time during the night. Someone had apparently bathed him, his skin free of blood, tattered armor switched out with casual attire.

Given that he recognized the clothing, his bets were on Carver cleaning him.

Great. He’ll never let Garrett live that one down.

Garrett peeked an eye open, then the other, reaching up to rub the sleep from his eyes with a loud yawn.

He smacked his lips, his mouth dry yet thick, as if stuffed full of cotton.

Garrett turned over, only to catch sight of his savior, fast asleep in a nearby chair.

He tried to sit up, but a sore ache surged through his body, his muscles tense.

His head spun. A subtle throb radiated at his temples, slowly building.

Burying his face into his hands, Garrett groaned.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Carver soothed, instantly at his side, opposite of Anders. “Take it easy. You’ve been through a lot.”

“Yeah?” Garrett grunted. “Well, you should see the other guy.” 

“You mean the one that I killed?”

“Exactly.”

Carver snorted, but he couldn’t hide his relief.

“You ass.” After a moment, he clenched his jaw, his eyes lit aflame with a poorly-concealed rage. He leaned in close to whisper to Garrett. “As soon as you’re ready, we need to discuss our next move.” He tossed a glance at Anders, glad to find him still fast asleep. “In private, preferably.”

“Yeah,” Garrett muttered. “No arguments there.”

The issue was, Athenril had grown bold, arrogant even, in the year since they joined. Because they worked at a higher efficiency than her usual hires, she treated them as if they were invincible, able to take on anything and everything she threw at them, no questions asked.

This wasn’t the first time she made a bad call on their part, but it was the first time they paid such a high price because of her carelessness. As a matter of fact, this was only the latest in a rather long string of other bad calls, but no more. Garrett had only joined up with her over Meeran to establish connections where it actually mattered, rather than to do the dirty jobs for a bunch of washed-up nobles with a grudge.

By that point, he and Carver had repaid their debt in full, and then some.

All things considered, they established themselves well enough. It was probably better to cut ties with Athenril as soon as they could before she got one of them killed.

Garrett might have already been looking into other, much bigger offers circulating around Kirkwall.

Then, there was the matter of Slack-Jawed Pete.

Seems like they needed to pay him a visit.

But that could wait until later.

For all they knew, he had gone to ground already, but that bastard never left Kirkwall for too long.

He always came crawling back for more.

Besides, Garrett had more pressing concerns to attend to.

“What did you tell Mother?” he asked. “About why I didn’t come home?”

Pressing his fingers to his temple, he cast a small healing spell to calm his headache.

Carver smiled sheepishly, which prompted Garrett to narrow his eyes at him in suspicion.

“I might have told her that you spent the night at Sapphire’s place,” Carver said, unable to keep his laugh at bay.

“Seriously, Carver?” Garrett huffed. “You know she wouldn’t approve of that.”

“Exactly why I said it.”

“Who’s Sapphire?”

Both Garrett and Carver jumped at the sudden question, startled by the sound of Anders’ voice.

He frowned at them, stretching out his long limbs before popping his back. A quiet groan of relief slipped free when the stiffness unraveled.

“That your girlfriend or something?”

“Ha!” Carver snickered. “That’s funny. As if dearest big brother would have a girlfriend.”

Garrett rolled his eyes at him.

“Don’t mind Carver. What he meant to say is that Sapphire is a fine man, but he is not my boyfriend or anything of the sort.”

“Try telling him that,” Carver joked.

“He has a crush, and that is all,” Garrett said, “not me.”

“Well, at least he has good taste,” Anders said, shocking both Garrett and himself with the comment. “I mean, uh—”

He hopped to his feet, nearly knocking his chair over in the process, but he managed to catch it before it crashed to the floor. 

“You must be thirsty!” he shouted, then forced his voice back to an even tone. “You should stay hydrated. I’ll get you some water.”

Righting his chair, he scrambled to fetch the pitcher that he filled earlier while Garrett was sleeping. His hand trembled a little as he poured, but Anders paid it no mind, passing the cup along to Garrett once he returned.

Their fingers brushed as he handed it to him.

Their eyes locked, and Anders felt his breath leave him, all at once.

Garrett flashed him a charming smile.

“Thank you,” he said, “for everything.”

“Oh, it’s no problem.” Anders brushed some stray strands of hair back behind his ears, his cheeks warming with the beginnings of a blush. “Really.” He shrugged. “Helping people is sort of what I do.”

Carver stared at them, unimpressed.

“And what am I?” he asked. “Chopped liver?”

Neither one of them answered, if they even heard him in the first place.

“So, you’re an apostate,” Anders noted. Not a question, but a statement.

To distract himself from all the thoughts running rampant in his mind, he left them at the cot to start preparing his poultices for the day.

Not that Garrett was deterred in the slightest. He quickly downed his drink and followed after him like a lost puppy, walking with a slight limp.

“As are you.”

Carver rolled his eyes.

“‘Thanks for dragging my ass to the healer while I was on the verge of death, little brother. You really came through for me,’” Carver said to himself, mimicking the cadence of Garrett’s voice. “‘No problem, Garrett. That’s what family’s for.’” Shaking his head, Carver got to his feet and called out to them. “I’m gonna go wait outside until you two are done doing whatever it is that you’re doing. Remember, Garrett, we have to discuss business today if you’re up to it. Don’t keep me waiting too long.”

This time, he at least got Garrett to acknowledge him.

With a nod, he told him, “I’ll be out shortly.”

Once Carver was gone, Garrett returned his full attention to Anders.

“You know what, I don’t think I caught your name,” he said, offering his hand out to him. “Clearly, as my brother so helpfully pointed out, I’m Garrett.”

Anders stopped what he was doing. 

After a moment, he took Garrett’s hand with a firm shake.

“Anders,” he introduced.

Their touch lingered, causing Garrett to chuckle.

“Is this the part where I try to be smooth and kiss the back of your hand?”

Anders laughed.

“Maybe next time.”

“‘Next time,’ huh?” Garrett nodded, eyeing Anders up and down with a grin. “I can work with that.”

“I’m sure you could,” Anders replied, both of them releasing their hold on one another.

“Although, I do have to say,” Garrett hummed, “usually I don’t stay the first night after meeting a guy, let alone without knowing his name.”

“Does that mean I should feel honored that you stayed?” Anders asked, amused by his antics.

“If anyone should feel honored, it would be me,” Garrett said. “In all seriousness, though, I want you to know that you have nothing to fear from me. We have a common enemy in the templars, after all. Plus, I owe you a great debt.”

“You owe me nothing.”

“Not how I see it, but I will repay you, however I can.” He nudged him softly in the side. “We could offer protection for your clinic.”

“Actually, I think I have that covered,” Anders said, his tone dismissive.

“I heard my brother offer the deal in exchange for your help,” Garrett explained. “That’s not something I take lightly. I intend to uphold our end of the bargain.”

Anders shook his head at him in disbelief.

“I don’t have any coin to offer you.”

“Good thing that I didn’t ask for coin then.” When he could sense Anders’ resolve falter, he tried addressing the matter from a different angle. “What if I come back tonight? You get to check on how I’m doing, and I get to give you a taste of how I operate. If you’re not satisfied with my service, then I’ll leave the clinic’s security to you, no questions asked.”

“Uh-huh…”

Trailing off, Anders chewed on the inside of his cheek, thinking it over. He really shouldn’t let him get too close. Knowing that he was an apostate was one thing, but if Garrett found out about Justice, there was no telling how he would react.

“How do I—” Anders scoffed under his breath. “How do I know this isn’t some elaborate plan to try and get closer to me?”

“Well, it kind of is,” Garrett admitted, as shameless as can be.

“At least you’re honest,” Anders sighed, “but what if I told you that getting close to me is a bad idea?”

Garrett stared at him, unafraid.

His expression gentled, his body shifting closer to him so that their words were kept between them.

“Then, I would say, let me decide if the risk is worth it.” When Anders didn’t immediately respond, Garrett fidgeted nervously. “So… I’ll see you tonight?”

That hopeful tone of his was enough to make Anders’ willpower crumble to dust.

“Yeah, I’ll see you then.”

The words were worth it, simply to watch his face light up in response.

Garrett beamed at him with a joy so contagious that not even Anders could resist.

“You take care,” Garrett said.

On his way out the clinic, Anders waited until he was out of sight before whispering, “You, too.”

[geminixevans-stan]

Yess so excited for Mafia!Steve & Pippi day! i have too many thoughts lol so I'll just leave one (fluffy one) here: the twins' first day of school? I imagine Steve would try to hold it together for Pippi but we see he's capable of being a huge softy. Congrats on your blogaversary~

Thank you so much! This request made me so happy!

Pairing: Mafia!Steve x Pippi

Words: 826

Warning: None. Pure fluff.

From Liar Liar OTP

The day that you’ve been dreading had come too quick for your liking. You boys — your babies were standing in front of you, backpacks on their shoulders as they get ready to leave their parents sight for eight hours. 

You tried to keep it together but when your precious Santino, clung on to your leg, you couldn’t hold on any longer.  The tears start wet his chubby little cheeks it took everything in you to not snatch him up and put him back in the car. 

“No wanna go mama,” his trembling voice tearing you apart. 

But your big guy, Salvatore was just like his father, nothing could scare him. He pulled lightly on this brother’s backpack, giving him a small smile, “Come on Fratello (brother)!” 

Santino clung harder, choosing to make your leg his home, “No! Wanna go home wiff mama!”

Oh how you wanted him to…

“Figlio (Son)…,” Steve’s soft voice coming from behind you. He only used that voice for you and his boys. But as you look up at your husband, you can see his cheeks tinged with pink and a unspoken glassiness to his eyes. 

Steve lowers to Santino’s height, staring back at the spitting image of him. He didn’t want to say it or even show but… This was ruining him in the worst way possible. 

He wanted nothing more than to scoop both his boys up and take them home. They were growing up too damn fast for his liking. 

Steve still remembers the day that you two brought them home. He wanted to go back to that day so bad. 

Santino’s eyes that match with Steve’s look at this father, his fingers still clutching onto yours. His lips tremble at Steve, wanting nothing more than to forget school altogether. 

Salvatore looks on at the interaction, bouncing on his feet as he watches the many kids enter the school. “Come onnnn we’re gonna be late!” 

“Shh, you’ll get there prince,” you assure him, passing your hand over his hair to smooth it.

“But I wanna go now!” he shouts, stamping his foot on the hard concrete.

Steve glances over at his little spitfire, a small mighty version of him, “Mind your mama, Sal. You don’t raise your voice, understand?” 

“Yes Papà,” sighing as he looks down at the ground. 

Steve reaches out to softly bring Salvatore over with his brother as he looks them both in the eyes, “Are the Rogers scared of anything?

Both boys look at Steve and shake their head from side to side. 

“I know it’s… scary to do new things. Trust me, the day you two were born, my whole life flashed before my eyes. But it all worked out right?”

Salvatore and Santino shake their heads, your precious boy’s hands loosening its grip. 

“Santino bambino, no matter what, you are going to be fine. Wanna know why?”

“Why Papà?” his voice filled with wonder. 

Steve gave him a soft smirk, keeping his eyes on his son, “Because you’re a Rogers, Figlio. We’ll always be fine. Just like your Fratello. Have each other’s back and no one can touch you okay?”

Salvatore puffs out his little chest with pride, “Got it Papà!” 

Steve chuckles, lightly ruffling his son’s hair, “Atta boy! Be your brother’s keeper in there know that me and your mamà well be here when you get out.”

Santino looks up at you and then back to Steve, “You promise?”

Steve nods, “Cross my heart bambino.”

With reluctance, Santino pries himself from your leg, you leaning down to give both your boys a kiss on the cheek, “Be good… okay?” the crack in your voice evident. 

Both boys nod giving both you and Steve hugs before walking off towards the school entrance. 

With your own reluctance, you turn around ready to get in the car when you see something that you normally don’t see. 

One tear slides down Steve’s cheek and you knew then that he was keeping it together for too long. 

He doesn’t stop looking at the twins until the door closes behind him and finally his gaze is distracted by you holding his hand with yours.

“Come on…” you whisper, taking your emotional husband back to the black SUV.

The moment that the car speeds off, Steve’s head is immediately in your lap as he lets out a huge breath. 

Your hand slides over his scalp, making him relax with your touch, “S’ not fair Pippi… They were supposed to stay babies.” 

You let out a watery laugh, “I know daddy. Still see them as those two tiny newborns that we brought home.”

The ride was silent as you two reminisced on the younger boys. Life wasn’t fair and you boys growing up was the most unfair thing in the world.

“….. I want more Pippi.” 

You look down at Steve, with a furrowed brow, “More what?”

“Babies. Gimme more babies Pippi.”

As if he had to ask… 

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