#suspecting the shot of the drink will never look good on account of the Color Banding™ but. ah well. there's only so much noise i can use

[flamingothing]

Every "Too Many Spirits" drinks + My favorite moments | 2/∞ -> The "Shane-Killer"

[rk1kheadcanons]

Markus and Connor are secret dating b/c Connor doesn't wanna be out to the world yet. The Jericrew (-Connor) go drinking and Markus gets *drunk* and starts rambling about his boyf after he rebuffs an advance made by a lady at the bar super sappily, but no matter how hard the others press him, they just get "oh, his eyes are the color of warm chocolate..." answers as to who this boyf is

You would never know Markus was drunk.

He didn’t stutter or slur when he spoke, he didn’t sway or trip over his feet. He didn’t giggle goofily or speak overly loud. He was perfectly composed, as much the charismatic android sober as he was when he was intoxicated.

What he did do, however, was go on long monologues like a Shakespearian stage actor.

Which would be fine, if Markus’ favorite subject to wax poetic about wasn’t his mysterious boyfriend, whom he’d sworn not to reveal the identity of until they were ready. Which would also be fine, if that mysterious boyfriend wasn’t Connor, who was often sitting right next to him (and slowly but surely bluescreening his way into that big Windows XP wallpaper in the sky) as he sang and lathered compliment after compliment, steadily giving away clues that were so blatant that it was a miracle that no one had figured them out yet.

Markus never remembered what he’d done the next day, and whenever Connor mercilessly played back his memories, his poor lover was as embarrassed as he was apologetic. Connor could hardly begrudge him (frankly he didn’t know what sane person on this planet could ever begrudge Markus, but that was just Connor’s correct opinion). What could they even do about it? Should he demand Markus consciously control himself? It wasn’t like Connor was any better at it. Give the RK800 too many AMB’s (Adios Motherboards) and he would be on top of the nearest table and scream-singing his every professionally repressed emotion, regardless if it was a karaoke bar or not. Hence why he never imbibed more than he could handle when they were around their friends. The last thing he wanted to do was sloppily propose to Markus after a long and terrible rendition of K-Ci and JoJo.

And Connor wouldn’t dream of telling Markus to measure the contents of his drink like Connor did. Not when his breaks were so rare, and getting him to relax and let loose was like pulling teeth.

It was just in the cards that their big revelation as a couple would be in a random bar at 3AM, with Markus saying something along the lines of “my boyfriend’s name starts with a C and rhymes with Donner”, and Connor had made peace with that.

“Scarlet woman!” Markus cried, at some random bar at 3AM, surrounded by their drunken comrades. Ah, would this be the night? Connor thought, on the correct side of buzzed as he watched on from the table right next to them, a heady mix of dread and amusement running through his computer soul. “Jezebel! How d a r e you solicit my happily taken hand!”

The waitress, who looked like she regretted serving their table, let alone attempting to get the number from the happily taken hand, raised her hands in surrender. “Sorry, sorry,” she said peaceably and with the calm air of someone who dealt with drunks as a job choice, “just trying to shoot my shot, ya know?”

Markus nodded at her magnanimously, because he was a kind and forgiving man even as a drunken buffoon. “Fret not. I pardon you of this most heinous slight, for if you knew the one to own my heart, you would understand that no other could compare.”

“Sure thing dude,” she said goodnaturedly, packing up and replacing drinks around their tables expertly, and parting with a “have a good night Romeo.”

“But who can no other compare to? WHOMST??” asked North, throwing her torso onto the table and looking up at Markus pleadingly.

“We’ve ruled out Jerry #451, Claudia, Baris from accounting, and Jerry #36,” Simon rattled off. He was looking down at a napkin that he had scribbled the names of all of their potential suspects. “I’ve got it. It’s Baris.”

North rolled her eyes. “We already said it wasn’t Baris.”

“Ohhh. Right, right.” Simon nodded his head and continued to not cross off the names of the people they had decided against, as he had been doing all night.

“How about you describe them a little?” Josh put in, reasonable, and therefore slightly less wasted than everyone else. “Hair color? Height? Eyes? Something?”

“Nay, I must not speak thusly!” Markus declared, back of his hand over his forehead and everything. “For if I were to tread down that forbidden road, I would surely not be able to stop myself from breaking our sacred oath of secrecy!”

“Oh my goOOOOOOOd I hate this fucking oaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaath,” North threw her head back and cried to heavens, which, considering her positon, was probably going to be hell on her neck come morning. “Come on! Break your oath! Be like Thor and wield oathbreaker goddamnit!”

“You might be thinking of Stormbreaker,” Connor added, the need to try and reason with alcoholics apparently embedded in his programming.

North narrowed her eyes at him, or rather his torso, since her chin was very resolutely still resting on the table. “If you think I’m thinking right now then you are drunker than I am.”

Connor lifted his barely touched glass to her in a toast because how dare she be lucid enough to clap back so quickly. A well deserved rebuttal fucking cheers.

“Glasses!” Josh exclaimed, snapping his fingers. “Do they wear glasses? That should narrow down some people.”

“That’s right! That’ll tell us if they’re an android or not. Androids don’t wear glasses! Our eyes are like...fucking...better and shit!”

“Unless….” Simon narrowed his eyes, pausing dramatically. “....they do.”

North gasped. Josh put his hands on either side of face, muttering; “holy fucking shit he’s right.”

Markus scoffed. “Their eyes do not hide behind paltry spectacles! His beautiful orbs, so soft and caring when his gaze lands upon my person, seeing into my very soul, are the warmest chocolate brown!”

‘Ah shit here we go,’ Connor thought, wishing not for the first time that he could just down his drink and join everyone else in blissful, idiotic cavorting. The soft, melodic piano and crooning words of All My Life playing over the speaker stayed his hand. Best not take any chances

“HE!” Simon burst out, tipping over in his chair. “He say he! Them is He!”

“Are we talkin’ Hershey’s or Dove?”

“Ghirardelli you fucking plebs!”

“Oi!” North banged her hand on the table so hard it left a handprint indented in the wood. It was one amongst many however, and not all of them left by their party. Such was the price for serving android drinks at a human bar - you either shelled out for sturdier furniture or the dents and chips became a charming aspect of your décor. “Don’t get spicy with us Sir Lancelot!”

“Apologies fair maiden,” Markus responded easily. He took her hand delicately and made a sweeping bow over it. “Alas, my passions got away from me.” He dropped her hand and whirled around, coat billowing with the movement and most assuredly by accident, placing both hands to his thirium pump. “Conjuring up the magnificent images that is the love of my life oft times sends my emotions into a tizzy! His hair; cloud like in my grasp as I run my fingers threw earthen chestnut tendrils - ”

‘Hhhhhhhhhhhhn so many adjectives Markus whyyyyyyyyyy,’ Connor wheezed internally. He didn’t bother trying to keep down his blush. Markus was nowhere near done laying on the compliments and he’d be subjecting himself to an endless loop of canceling the process. Besides, he could just blame it on the alcohol. Blame it on the a a a a a alcohol - wait no. What!? WHAT. Connor looked down at his drink and saw, to his mounting horror, that the glass was emptier than it had been a few minutes ago. Goddamn his automated rest mode cycle for transforming into fidgeting whenever he was nervous! He resolutely pushed the glass out of his immediate reach.

Nines, who was quietly sitting next to him, hunched over and taking notes on his own napkin, snapped his head up to attention when the glass brushed against his arm. His younger brother was looking from Connor to Markus, eyes narrowed suspiciously as Markus carried on. Connor didn’t like that look at all. It was always a risk inviting Nines to their little outings, the only thing Connor could bank on was Nines passing out - as his dear little bro was a notorious light weight - before his deductive skills could pierce through his drunken haze. Apparently Nines had chosen tonight of all nights, where Markus had never been more obvious about their relationship, to bloody pace himself.

If he could, Connor would be sweating bullets.

“ - a wit SO SHARP!!” Markus declared, foot now planted on his chair and shaking his fist to the ceiling as if it had insulted one of Carl’s paintings, “that neither an UNDEAD HOARD nor a POLITICIAN’S EGO could survive it’s precision strike!!”

“Brown hair, brown eyes, banger body, smarty pants, good at analyzing shit, likes animals” North listed off, holding a hand up and ticking a finger down. “Well that rules out all the Jerrys; they’re all redheads and they’re pretty aggressive about it - except for Jerry #86. Is your man-squeeze Jerry #86?”

“No no no last I heard Jerry #86 is dating Hatsume Miku’s bodyguard; Android Lucy Lawless.” said Simon.

“Tch. Lucky,” pouted North.

“Oh wow, she really kept that name huh?” Josh said, voice faint with wonder and disbelief. “That’s such a mouthful.”

“And who are you to question a Queen!?” snapped North.

“Huzzah and many blessings to the fortuitous couple!” Markus cheered, toasting a stein of frothy blue intoxication that looked as cartoonish as it did poisonous to the sky, knocking it back in several impressive gulps and slamming it back on the table. “BUT NEITHER OF THEM CAN COMPARE TO THE BEAUTY AND GRACE THAT IS MY LOVE!!” he boomed, louder and more British by the second. “WHO’S CURIOSITY AND INTELLECT A CHERISHED BOON TO I, BUT A WEAPON OF MASS DESTRUCTION TO HIS ENEMIES - !”

North slapped her hand on the table several times, the proverbial light bulb lighting up in her eyes - oh. No not proverbial. There was currently little lightbulb emojis pictured in her pupils. Yet another drunken download added to the bill. Connor was glad he’d drawn the long straw on ‘irresponsible buying duty’ tonight. No doubt there would be a lot of strange receipts to sort through in the morning. “Oh! I know I know! It’s Josh!”

So startled by this declaration/accusation, Josh jumped in his seat. “What!?”

“Brown hair, brown eyes, hot, obnoxious, smart - everything FITS!”

“...he didn’t say obnoxious,” Josh muttered, then physically shook sanity back into himself. “It can’t be me. I think I’d know if I was dating Markus!”

Simon leaned in closer towards Josh, arm on the table, determination in his mien. “But what if…” Without breaking eye contact with his friend, he smoothly cracked open his Thirium berry blast bahama mama banana punch wine cooler, and proceeded to pour it just two centimeters off from his glass, all over the table. “You don’t know.”

Josh was shook in the face of this evidence. North narrowed her eyes so hard that they were just closed at this point. “Highly suspicious.”

“No. Nooooo. No? No! Of course I’m not. Right Markus?”

Markus steepled his fingers together and cackled in a way that most people would find concerning, but Connor just found it adorable. He would saving that in his memory banks. “I’ll never tell~,” he sing songed.

“H i g h l y s u s p i c i o u s.”

“I know who it is,” Nines suddenly said, calm but with such confidence that he was easily heard amidst the ruckus. He had his elbows planted on the table, chin resting upon his entwined fingers. Steele grey eyes swept over the now quiet group, everyone waiting with baited breath.

“Grant us your wisdom ‘o soothsayer,” Markus whispered, eyes wide with anticipation and literally perched on the edge of his seat. Connor seriously measured the pros and cons of just throwing his portion of the tab on the table and yeeting himself out of the window.

“It’s Sixty.”

Immediately the room erupted into scoffs and hisses of disbelief. North gave him a thumbs down and cupped her hand to her mouth, letting a long, “Booooo!”

“Why are you booing me I’m right!”

“BoooOOooOOOOOoooooo!” Markus, Josh and Simon joined in.

Connor blinked, and suddenly felt all of his concerns about Nines’ being the lynch pin in solving this mystery evaporate. If Markus transformed into a C grade Shakespeare impersonator when drunk, and Connor subconsciously wanted to be recruited by America’s Got Talent, then Nines became a consummate dumbass.

“That’s it!” North exploded. “Ten dollars says it’s Jerry #92! I caught him in a wig once!” She stood up, her chair sliding back from the force, and slammed a note on the table.

Simon also stood up with equal intensity. “Twenty says it’s Josh!” He reached into his pocket and slammed its contents onto the table. When he removed his hand six lego pieces, a My Little Pony leg, and two actual diamonds were revealed. Connor hoped dearly that the bartender cut Simon off soon.

“It’s not me!” Josh said exasperated. He paused, then pointedly pulled out some money and threw it in the pot as well. “I put forty on Brenden.”

“Bull! Shit!” North declared. “Fitness guru Brenden!? No way!”

“He fits the criteria.”

“I doubt ‘How To Tell If An Android Has Welded on Parts from China vs Russia in their Selfies’ videos on his YouTube channel is the kind analysis Markus was talking about.”

“You don’t know that! He didn’t specify...”

As the two continued to argue, with Simon chiming in with some non sequitur, and Nines tutting about these ‘ignorant fools and their blindness to the evidence presented’, Connor looked over to Markus. He was quiet. He had his elbow perched precariously on the edge of the table, his cheek resting on his fist, a small hat (that was not there literally two minutes ago) was on his head, folded from one of the bar napkins.

And he was looking at Connor as if he hung the moon and stars.

‘How could the world not already know,’ Connor thought, soft and warm inside, happy merely to be in his line of sight, ‘When he looks at me like that?’

Connor picked up his glass and lifted it. “One hundred dollars on Sixty.”

Chaos erupted. Nines threw his arms up and hooted like he’d won the super bowl. Josh tried to explain to him how that was mathematically impossible. North shook her head and warned him that he would live on the streets with an answer like that. Simon pulled out a Yu-Gi-Oh! Card and said he would give him this Charizard if he agreed with him that Josh was Markus’ secret boyfriend. Connor withheld himself from trying to convince drunk people that this was not how betting worked.

Maybe Connor shouldn’t worry so much about their relationship being discovered after all. At this rate, no one would know about he and Markus being together until the wedding invites.

[janedoe-eyes]

Neighbors in a Mask

This is my Secret Santa gift for @theatreandcomicfreak - I hope you like it! I had the help of a wonderful Beta who made this infinitely better😂. Merry Christmas! @maribat-secret-santa-2020 -  I’m also posting it on ao3 😁

“Ok - ok, you can do this! This is just a friendly introduction, what could go wrong? New town, new place, new start.” A wet nose nudged her hand in agreement with her little self-pep talk, and she smiled at her furry companion. Marinette squared her shoulders and knocked on the apartment marked ‘655’, the mantra ‘new town, new place, new start’ ran on repeat in the back of her mind. She fidgeted listening for signs of life on the other end of the door.

She jumped when the door suddenly and silently opened to reveal a man her age - half-dressed, extremely attractive, and wearing the least welcoming glower she’d ever seen.

“Yes?” He raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms.

“I… uh… next door… chest moved in… shirtless - I mean!” She sputtered, face resembling a tomato and she barely managed to grab the plate of macaroons she’d lost her hold on while  she flailed. Holy hell, I haven’t sputtered  this much since…

That thought sobered her right up, and she shook her head to clear the nervous clutter. She took a big breath and started again.

“Sorry - I just moved in next door,” she jerked a thumb to her left, indicating the other condo in the pair. “I wanted to bring these over and introduce myself - I’m Marinette Dupain-Cheng, and this is my dog Squishy.” She gestured to the cream-colored Pit Bull, and he glanced down for a half a moment. “I just moved here from Paris! I’m a fashion designer and novice gardener-”

“Look, I have a lot of work to do,” He cut her off with an exasperated sigh. “I am not interested in whatever you are selling - whether it is a product, business deal, or yourself.” Her jaw dropped. “I do not socialize beyond what is forced upon me by my family - so you have wasted your time. Good day.” He nodded stiffly at her and shut the door.

What the fu…

She stared at the same spot on the forest green door until Squishy whined and nudged her hand. She looked  to see the dog leaning on her leg and slowly wagging her tail.

“Squish… did you hear him say what I think he said?” She asked, looking at the door. She received  another nudge, this time from her purse on her other side.

She peered down to see Tikki’s blue orbs looking at her  with  concern. Marinette  smiled in reassurance.

“I’m fine Tik -  just rebooting.” A small giggle sounded from the bag, and Mari’s smile grew. She gave the door one last look and huffed.

“Oh well,” She shrugged. “Might as well head home.”

She stepped off his stoop and strolled over to her own, her deep red door already decorated with a spring wreath - little ladybugs hidden throughout. She shut the door behind her and caught  the plate  for a  second time when  a black blur zipped right in front of her face.

“Hey Bug, I overheard your  little exchange… want me to phase over and cataclysm his TV or something?”

“Plagg! What have I said about startling me? You’re gonna give me a heart attack!” He ignored her, floating in lazy circles near her ear. She continued to grumble about the cat as she continued to the kitchen - Tikki flying out of Mari’s purse to join her other half.

“No cataclysms!” The Luck God scolded him, crossing her paws. “We can’t risk anyone becoming  suspicious of where the guardian is - anyone who knows  the temple returned will be on the hunt!”

“Please,” Plagg scoffed. “I can pop  in and out without him noticing and not leave a trace - it’d probably at least annoy the hell out of Mr-stick-up-his-”

“As much as I’d like to get him back for his rude  comment - seriously, where does he get off?!” Marinette interrupted with a sigh and a small smile. “Tikki’s right, and it wouldn’t be very guardian or Ladybug-like of me besides.”

“Fine - but the offer still stands.” The little floating cat huffed, flying over to where Squishy cuddled  in her bed by the window, watching her owner for signs of needing her.

It was odd how well the dog and cat god got along - Plagg refused to acknowledge he was fond of the Pit Bull, but they were found more often than not sleeping curled  together on Mari’s bed at night, and Marinette suspected he snuck  her treats.

“As long as we don’t see each other much beyond going in or out of our places - it shouldn’t be a problem.” She shrugged, popping a cookie from the plate in her mouth and handing one to Tikki who happily accepted. “With how ‘busy’ he alluded to being - it shouldn’t be hard.”

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

Turns out -  easier said than done.

She saw him the next day in line at a coffee shop accompanied by  a man a few years older than him who looked as if  death had warmed over. Mr. Grouchy made eye contact with her and scowled before turning away with a tsk.

She rolled her eyes and focused back on the barista. “Hello,” she smiled as much as she could manage at the buttcrack of dawn. “It’s a longshot, but do you happen to have any ‘Black Insomnia’ or ‘High Voltage’?” The blonde behind the counter paled.

“Not another one.” She whispered, her eyes darting over to the man being tugged along by her neighbor.

Marinette tilted her head in question, and the barista seemed to shake it off.

“We are well stocked with Black Insomnia, what size will it  be and how would you like it made?” She asked, her customer service smile  strained.

“The largest you have - as black as you can make it.” She smiled back and took her receipt, walking over to a booth, overhearing her call out for a “Suicidal Wayne” just as another worker called out for the same drink.

The older boy, the one who looked in desperate need of a good night's sleep, leaned on Mr. Pissy as if he was the only thing keeping him upright - but at the mention of the order, his eyes snapped over to her. He gave her a small wave, and she returned it with a quirked brow. He looked close to  moving  over, but Sir Scowls-a-lot stopped him with a hand on his arm. He spoke in a low voice, and the tired man’s face melted into a mix of disappointment and exasperation. The man shot her an annoyed look and turned back to the front.

She wanted  to go over and demand to know what he could  possibly say   having met her once for five minutes, but the barista called out three names - hers, ‘Tim’,  and ‘Damian’. She walked  up before the two could move and grabbed her cup, thanking the woman, before brushing past ‘Tim and Damian’ on her way out. She was in a rush - there was a show coming up next week and she had fittings all day, she didn’t have time to deal with her asshat of a neighbor and his friend with good taste in coffee.

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

As the days passed, they continued bumping into each other. Their dynamic well-past talking, favoring annoyed glares and eye rolls. He wanted to scare her off (the Wayne lawyer way or Robin way - he hadn’t decided yet), but his father and brothers refused - insisting she hadn’t done anything deserving of any kind of action.

Yet. His mind supplied.

There was something off about her - the sixth sense he’d acquired through his life was never wrong, and she set it  off like fireworks whenever she was near. He couldn’t get a read on her intentions, but he wasn’t one to wait for the other shoe to drop - he planned to keep his eye on her.

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

He saw her again on patrol a week and a half after she first knocked on his door.

He was in costume uniform tailing a group of five men who  had recently left a warehouse that  belonged to  the Penguin. Red Hood stationed  across the street following parallel to him.

The men turned the corner on Hood’s side, and Robin signaled he would wait until they were out of earshot before grappling over. Hood nodded and continued trailing them.

Robin waited for a beat, then shot his hook out to grab the highest ledge available.

“Shit.” Hood’s voice through his comm made his hand jerk and his grappling hook missed the mark. He released his own curse and reshot as soon as the cable  fully retracted.

“Report, Hood.” He snapped, flipping at the arc of his swing and sailing over the first building.

“They’re targeting a girl - she looks  your age, tiny, at least partially Asian,” Hood grunted lowly.

Damian groaned.

“Acquaintance of yours, Demon Spawn?” Red Hood teased.

“No names in the field, Hood.” He hissed. “And it’s  my new neighbor - she keeps popping up like a bad penny.”

“The one you said tried  to butter you up with cookies, and drinks the same motor oil as Replacement?” Hood asked. Robin landed beside him, leaning over the ledge to watch the girl’s progress as she leisurely strolled down the street with several shopping bags.

“<Tt>, idiot,” Robin muttered under his breath. “That’s her.” He glanced at Hood who nodded.

“You know - I still say you might have misjudged the situation - Timmy said she didn’t seem the cozy-ing up type and seemed  kinda openly pissed at you.” Red Hood mused.

“No. Names. In. The. Field. Hood.” Robin grit out, tired of this conversation - he’d had  versions of it with his family ever since the coffee shop incident.

Everyone insisted the  Dupain-Cheng girl was trying to be nice - but he looked through her records, and found  an unprecedented amount of bullying accusations against her in high school, and she’d quit her job at ‘Agreste’ with no warning - but that was oddly heavily-guarded information. He had been locked out of many of even the simplest social media accounts and public records - especially anything to do with the Agreste brand founder. A  familiar itch on the back of his neck told  him he was onto something big - and his suspiciously friendly neighbor was connected.

Hood took a breath as if to continue the conversation when Robin put a hand up and signaled downward.

They both looked to see the tiny girl turn sharply across the road and into a dead-end alleyway. She’s even stupider than I assumed , Robin mentally groaned as he and Red Hood scrambled to follow.

They dropped to street-level and ran over to the alley, prepared to find the young woman in need of saving, only to see three men passed out near the entrance.  A dented trash lid resting nearby.  The small girl, who looked like Red Hood could lift her with one hand, flipped  a fourth over her shoulder with ease.

“Holy Mother-” Hood gaped at the scene and  sidestepped  the flying body - it landed behind him on top of the others.

Robin didn’t flinch as the man sailed past and ruffled his cape. His eyes were fixed on the girl as she high-kicked the last man under the jaw - knocking him out immediately. He couldn’t stop the words ‘almalak almuharib[1]’ from slipping past his lips in an awed gasp. He’d never seen anything so beautiful in all his life.

He shook himself, scowling at the foolish thoughts that rose unbidden. Perhaps she is a shaman or spell caster. That is it - this must be a  spell. He reasoned to himself.

He watched, still unable to move, as the girl dusted off her clothes and reached into her bag.

“Are you two gonna help, or do you plan to stand there with your mouths open like a couple of fish.” She asked as she turned around with a handful of zip ties, eyebrow quirked.

“You have  one hell of a kick, kid.” Red Hood broke the silence, moving forward to grab a few of the proffered zip ties (even though he had plenty of his own).

“It was nothing.” She brushed off the complement with a wave of her hand and a light rose dusting on her cheeks.

Red Hood scoffed, “Whatever kid, that was the most badass take-down I’ve seen in a while - and I know Wonder Woman.” He extended his fist for a bump.

Her smile fell  from her face as if she’d been slapped - her eyes fixated on the proffered fist and starting to water.

“Uh…” Red Hood lowered  his arm, “I ain’t trying to hit you kid… you guys have fist bumps in Europe, right?” He laughed nervously and scratched the back of his neck.

“I… It’s nothing - you just... reminded me of a friend.” She whispered, taking in a shuddering breath and turning  sharply to secure the last guy she knocked unconscious.

Robin shared a look with his brother (an odd thing to do through a helmet, but they knew each other well enough for  it to work) and shrugged, before taking out his own zip ties and turning to the pile of three large men.

As they finished  with the other four, Marinette walked past them with her bags and a quick “I’ll leave them to you, then” - and left the alleyway, disappearing from sight.

“That… was weird, right?” Hood said, staring after her. “Shouldn’t we make her stick around to give a statement?”

Robin shook his head slowly. “I think… it would be best to let her go... this time. We have both seen that look before.” In the mirror every time we lost a teammate in battle, he glared   where he’d last seen her retreating figure, and puzzled  over the new information.

“Wait, wait, wait, I agree she can fight  and all, but are you really saying that the little pipsqueak...” He choked out in surprise, Damian could tell his eyes were bugging under his mask.

“I’m not sure, but she’s certainly no average civilian.” He cut his brother off with a shake of his head. “I suggest we keep an eye on her.”

“Hey, if you two have finished your little intrusion into the poor girl’s life and traumas, the police are  a minute out.” Barbra, or rather, Oracle’s voice sounded from their earpieces.

Damian took one last look at where she’d disappeared to before turning away with narrowed eyes and a “<Tt>”.

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

Marinette withdrew following  the encounter in the alley - barely acknowledging her surly neighbor, Squishy refused to leave her side, and Plagg and Tikki often needed to call her name several times before she’d respond… The  Kwamii were worried.

“Tik… we only just pulled  her out of the slump she was in back in Paris after…” Plagg’s normally light and expressive face fell, his tail, ears, and whiskers drooping.

“I know… It’s never easy to lose one.” She whispered with a pained wince, past memories flashing in front of her eyes. She floated over to her other half and pulled him into her, petting the back of his head as stuttering purrs overtook  his shaking.

“If she continues to relive it, we’ll lose her too - remember  Keket.” Tikki shuddered at the reminder of the young girl.

“No… we can’t let that happen again,” Plagg growled, the memories of the long lost kitten painful even all these years later. They couldn’t let that happen to Marinette. Tikki nodded firmly into his shoulder.

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

Marinette stretched out under a large oak tree in the city gardens, her sketchbook open on her lap and Squishy laid  over her legs - keeping guard. She stared at the blank page with unfocused eyes, memories swimming  in her head out of order and distorted.

“*Sniff* Mommy... Daddy…” A small voice sobbed, pulling her from her musings. She closed her book and set it aside. Squishy took that as a signal to get up and look around, her ears swiveling alertly.

“Where is it coming from, Squish?” She reached  to rest her hand on the dog’s back, Marinette stood  and looked  around intently.

Her dog gave a soft *wuff* and tugged on the leash. Marinette turned and allowed the Pit Bull to direct her. As they neared the bushes the sound came  from, Marinette stopped  short at the sight of a familiar well-kept head of dark hair and moved her and Squishy to peek around them to the bench beyond.

From her position, she saw  her prickly neighbor crouching next to a boy of about five or six whose cries turned into soft giggles as a Great Dane licked at his face, tail wagging wildly.

“Alright Titus, let the boy breathe.” The man grunted, tugging lightly on the large dog’s collar. “Now, have you calmed enough to tell me your name?” He asked in a surprisingly gentle voice, turning his attention to the boy. The kid nodded, sniffing and reaching out to pat the dog - who happily leaned in.

“E-Ethan… My name’s Ethan Sorensen, Mr. Wayne.” He said shyly.

“Ah, you recognize me?” The younger boy nodded, still stroking the dog.

The Wayne Heir returned the nodd. “Good - at least you didn’t talk  to  a complete stranger. You should be more careful though, the world - and this city especially - are dangerous places for someone  young and inexperienced.” He scolded with a frown.

The boy shrunk in, and Titus nudged further into the boy, whining slightly. The temperamental man sighed and hesitantly put a hand on the boy’s shoulder.

“I do not mean to be harsh - I am merely  glad I found you first.” He gave the boy a strained smile and it received a laugh from the kid. His eye twitched in annoyance.

“<Tt>,” He groused, pulling back and taking out his phone. He tapped a few times before placing the phone against his ear. “Gordon, I have a boy named Ethan Sorensen alone in the Southeast end of Robinson Park, have there been any missing child reports?” He nodded at whatever response he received. “Good, let your father know we will wait  for them on a bench... Yes, of course I plan to remain with him! He is no older than six!... Yes, yes, I will stay behind to issue a statement to the officer… Goodbye Gordon.” He hung up the phone and returned it to his pocket before turning back to the boy.

“Your parents are on their way, would you like to play fetch with Titus until they arrive?” He received a shy nodd in return and handed over a yellow batman-themed ball which was enthusiastically chased  once thrown.

Marinette watched a few more throws before retreating to the tree where she had left her bag and packed up.

“So he can be sweet,” she mused to Tikki under her breath.

The Kwamii poked her head out of Mari’s pocket and giggled. “Though he didn’t seem super comfortable with the situation, he went out of his way to be kind to the boy. He stepped  up when needed.”

“Yeah, I guess our grumpy-goose next door can act like a human - now and then.” Marinette laughed, turning toward the park’s exit, a light flutter in her chest  after watching her awkward frenemy do something kind.

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

That night, Marinette seriously considered  donning her mask for the first time in over a year.

She couldn’t explain why, but watching Damian’s secretly sweet nature peek through had  lifted her spirits. She felt more like her old self than she had in a long time.

The dark and handsome man was obviously out of his comfort zone in interacting with the boy, but his desire to help another person outweighed his own discomfort. Mari’s guardian senses could see the effort it took to overcome the deep-seated parasitic darkness that latched onto his being. .

Her bones buzzed with an energy that had been absent for  a year. She didn't call for a transformation though - her Guardian duties came first, and she needed to understand the city as a healer before she could take on an active protector role.

Using the recovered energy, she took back up a project she'd been working on - knitting hats, gloves, and scarves with needles Wayzz helped her infuse with a warming charm. She planned to give them away at the shelter she volunteered at on weekends when the weather turned in a few months.

She had four sets of mittens done and adjusted the needles to start on a fifth when a loud crash sounded from the other end of the wall. She jumped up and grabbed the retractable baton she stored in her crafting room, sliding into a crouching position. Tikki and Plagg flew over from the cushion they were lounging on to hover next to her.

They waited in suspense  - listening for clues as to what was going on beyond the wall.

After a few moments, a pained groan sounded along with another, smaller crash.

Was it… her surly Wayne neighbor?

She shared a glance with Tikki and Plagg, and the three nodded. Plagg phased through the wall, and Tikki flew to Mari’s shoulder. An anxious minute later, Plagg returned, stifling laughter with his paws.

“Oh yeah - he’s gonna need some help,” He snorted. “And what is it with you attracting all the weirdos?” He cackled, flying over to the mini-fridge she kept stocked with Kwamii food and phasing through.

“You’ll want to bring the first aid kit,” he continued, exiting the fridge with a small wheel of cheese and taking a large bite before continuing. “Probably keep the baton with you in case there’s trouble - the kid may not be much help  watching your back.”

That snapped her to attention, and she rushed off to her bathroom to grab the enormous first aid kit she collected over  years of hero work. She pulled on a coat - Tikki slipping into a pocket - and shoved her feet into her deep red combat boots, quickly tying them before rushing out her front door and over to the stoop she’d glared  at in passing for weeks.

Marinette  took a deep breath to calm herself before testing the door - which was of course locked. She huffed and pulled out the lock-pick set she stored in the inner lining of her boots. She unlocked  the door after two frustrating minutes - it seemed her neighbor wasn’t satisfied with the standard locks that came with the condos and installed his own.

Once inside, she closed the door behind her and re-locked it  - noticing a blinking red light on a small black box along the side of the door.

Probably a silent alarm, she mused, No matter - I’m here to help and have no intention of harming… Oh geez, I don’t even know his name - what will the police think when they arrive  here?! What names did the barista say  at the coffee house? - Tim and… Damian? Gah! It doesn’t matter - he still needs help! She shook herself and continued along the hallway with the first aid kit in her left hand and the baton in her right - raised and ready for trouble.

“Um… Hello?” She called out, deciding it was better to alert any robbers than to scare her injured neighbor. “It’s Marinette Dupain-Cheng - your neighbor next door? I heard a crash and someone in pain, so I let myself in…” Having cleared the first floor, she turned to the stairs at the back of the house past the kitchen. “Mr. Wayne?”

A pained grunt sounded from the top of the stairs and she tensed further, not foolish enough to rush  ahead after the warning Plagg gave  - even if it wasn’t bad enough to insist on coming himself.

“Is that you, Mr. Wayne?” She called, narrowing her eyes as she reached the top of the stairs.

“I...in here...” A deep male voice coughed from the last room to her right, and she heard a low growling as she entered the room.

“I’m going to turn on the light.” She called a moment before she did.

Muttered cursing sounded at the light and drew her eyes to the floor under the window where the young Wayne lay on his side, clutching a gash over his chest, and surrounded by glass. The  man was dressed in a ripped Robin uniform she’d become familiar with due to all the merch that littered the city.

“Oh…” Marinette  whispered, Plagg’s comment on attracting weirdos now making sense. She heaved a deep sigh.

“His name is Titus, right?” The dog twitched at his name, and his master nodded stiffly. “Will he  let me take a look at your injuries?” She retracted the baton and set it on the ground slowly with the kit, keeping her movements slow, and returning to a standing position with her palms empty and up.

“Titus, hda[2].” The dog slowly relaxed his tense position and looked back at the boy on the ground behind him. “Rahab[3].” The man said,  nodding toward her, wincing as it pulled at one of his many injuries.

Though she didn’t understand the language of the commands, their meanings were obvious - she sank to the floor again and turned to her side, slowly offering her hand for the great black beast to sniff. He cautiously approached her and watched her body language intently as he snuffled at her hand - leaving a cool trail behind, which would have made her giggle in  another situation.

Finally deciding to trust her , he licked her cheek and released a whine - tugging her jacket sleeve over to his injured master. She reached back to grab her kit and allowed the dog to pull her forward.

“Where are you hurt most severely?” She asked, kneeling beside him, ignoring the few pricks of glass in her legs as she did so.

“The gash on my chest is the only one that needs looked at immediately... the others are superficial.” He wheezed lightly, his voice strained.

“Was your head or spine injured to your knowledge?” At the slight shake of his head, she carefully slid her arms under him and gently lifted him into a princess carry. He let out an indignant and surprised manly squeak and she tried to hide her smile.

“Your partners, do you want me to contact them?” She asked, entering the connected bathroom and flipping the switch with her shoulder.

“My communicator and tracker are busted - though if you came through the front door, they were alerted and will send someone to check when  I do not respond.”

She nodded and set him into the tub as gently as she could, shooing Titus away from sticking his head in as close as he could get it to the man. She set her kit on the floor and pulled out a pair of scissors. He snorted at the sight.

“Those will not even make a scratch in -” She grinned at his stunned silence as she nearly glided through the material, snagging  a few times on previously patched parts.

“...” He stared at the scissors as she shifted to cut the sleeves. “This is the highest grade kevlar… how in the…” He turned to meet her laughing eyes and quirked an eyebrow.

“I have my secrets,” She gestured to the suit she was tearing into. “And you have your’s.” He pinned her with a look, but she raised her own brow as if to ask ‘you don’t actually expect me to tell you, do you?’

He scoffed and turned to the wall.

She laughed and moved the last of the material out of the way - turning back to her kit to gather her supplies.

“I don’t suppose you’d let me give you any Lidocaine?” He gave her a ‘what do you think?’ look. “That’s what I thought - want something to bite on?”

“I’ll be fine.” He grumbled, turning away again.

“Alright tough guy, I’m gonna just dive in - if you need a break or want to change your mind, let me know.” He nodded, and she threaded the hooked needle, glancing at him once more before starting in.

She was amazed at how little he reacted - a few face twitches at most - and she made sure to get through it as quickly as possible. After tying it off, she cleaned around the wound and taped gauze over it, and nodded to herself in satisfaction.

She turned  to grab more alcohol swabs, only to find the injured hero unsteadily climbing  to his feet.

“Just what do you think you’re doing?” She asked, exasperated.

“The rest is livable - I will be fine. Thank you for-”

“Thank me when I’m done patching you up, you stubborn fool.” She rolled her eyes, pushing him back down.

“How are you so strong?!” He huffed. “I don’t know of many civilians who could lift a grown man without an issue…” He left the statement trailing like a question, and she laughed.

“I grew up in a bakery - I’ve been lifting bags of flour my whole life.” She shrugged, taping up his finished arm and moving onto another gash.

“Sure…” He scoffed, not believing for a second that was all there was to it. She shrugged in response.

They sat in silence until she finished , tapping on the last square of gauze.

“Alright,” She helped him to his feet  and over to his bed. “Is there anything else you need?”

He shook his head, giving a soft ‘Thank you’ - reaching out to catch her hand as she began walking over to retrieve  the baton she’d left by his door.

“Truly - I… I would have been in trouble if you had not found me when you did. The others are in the middle of a fight and my beacon was broken before I could activate it… there might  still be  time before they worry.”

“Happy to help.” She smiled, patting his arm. He nodded, breaking eye contact again and patting Titus who jumped on the bed  to snuggle  the man.

“By the way…” She started. “What is your name? I know your last name is Wayne - that’s what the boy at the park said anyway, and I think it’s either ‘Damian’ or ‘Tim’ - because those were the names the barista gave at the coffee shop…”

“Wait,” He stopped her. “You… don’t know who I am?”

“Um… should I? The way the boy said it made it sound  as if you’re well known here - but I’m only familiar with Parisian celebrities.”

“Oh, then… I believe I may owe you an apology.” He scratched the back of his head, still avoiding eye contact.

“Yes, yes you do - but what are you referring to?” She started with a irked look, and he had the decency to look abashed.

“When you first came to my door… I thought it another instance of someone trying to get in my good graces because I’m a Wayne. My father and brothers have warned me against social climbers, and I find it best to avoid encouraging them by making my disinterest known right away.” He still refused to meet her eyes and she reached out to touch his shoulder.

She waited until he met her eyes before speaking. “I appreciate and accept your apology, and  I understand. ” He raised a disbelieving brow.

“No,” she chuckled, “Really. Back in Paris, I had a few friends who suffered from  the same problem - an Olympic fencer, a model, a rock singer…” She shrugged. “I get it… but I’d also like to start again if you’re up for it?”

He stared at her for a moment, taking in her sincerity, before he slowly nodded and extended his hand.

“Hello… I am Damian Wayne.” She grinned and grasped his hand.

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng.”

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

Dick burst into the apartment moments after Marinette returned to her own home - leaving her phone number behind with strict instructions to call if he needed anything. He explained what  happened - causing Dick check for a concussion when he openly admitted to misjudging her - and was taken to the cave.

Alfred was impressed with Marinette’s stitch job, and only needed to re-bandage the wounds he’d checked. His father had interrogated him for several hours when he found out a near-stranger  knew at least Robin’s identity. He was talked down from all-out kidnapping the girl for answers only because Damian insisted on it - and he rarely stood up for his family, let alone strangers. So, they decided to keep a close eye on her when she went out (Damian living directly next door kept them from over-bugging the outside of her home).

They discovered she worked  in a small boutique in the Fashion District, and volunteered  at a shelter. When she wasn’t at either of those places or running errands, she wandered the city for places to sit and sketch. They had the sneaking suspicion she knew of their presence , but hadn’t caught her looking directly at them yet.

They were all  wary of her but eventually  eased up on their suspicions the more they were around the little - but strangely strong - ball of sunshine.

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

A few nights later, Damian awoke to the sounds of muffled cries. He instinctively jolted out of bed and reached for the sword next to his nightstand. Listening, he found the sounds came from Marinette’s apartment. He popped open the door to his balcony located  on the same wall as hers.

Leaping over - narrowly avoiding knocking over one of the many pots strewn on  every surface - he slunk over to her door and peeked inside, expecting  a struggle and looking for the best opening to intervene.

What he saw was his small neighbor (friend?) curled  on her bed, tangled in her blankets, with tears streaming down her face. She thrashed, a whimper loud enough for him to hear through the glass slipping through her lips.

He sighed and set his shoulders - he’d seen enough night terrors from his brothers, the Titans, and even members of his grandfather’s League to know he wouldn’t leave her to suffer, but not looking forward to explaining how he entered .

Working on  the simple lock, he slid the door open silently, and closed it behind him, leaning his sword against it where she wouldn’t notice it unless she paid attention. .

A whine halted his approach, and he paused, noticing the butter-colored Pit Bull at the foot of the bed - having obviously knocked off in her mistress’ movement - and reached a hand out. The dog sniffed hesitantly, her tail stuck firmly between her legs, and her ears flat against her head in worry.

“It’s alright, girl, I am here to help.” He soothed, rubbing at her ears until her tail uncurled and began to half-heartedly wag.

“NON!... CHAT!” The girl on the bed sobbed, her arms flailing as if reaching for something.

He was at her side in an instant, grabbing her arms and readying himself in case she fought him.

“Mari!” He called, shaking her none too gently, “Mari! It is a dream! You need to wake up!”

It took several tries, but soon her eyes shot open.

She sat up, latching onto the first thing she found, and as he still held  her wrists, (and her dog was on the floor) he found his arms full of a sobbing Marinette. She gasped, muttering in French  how sorry she was, how she should have been stronger, how it was her fault…

He held her, as his brothers did for him for months after he came back from the pits and awoke from his own nightmares. He started to rock back and forth - smoothing her hair, and she cuddled in closer, her cries pittering out.

The city’s ambience filled the room - interspersed with the slight creaking of the bed at Damian’s continued rocking motion.

“Do you wish to talk about it?” He asked after what felt like both a moment and an eternity.

She hesitated, before starting in a small, frail voice.

He learned  what  transpired in France with the villain the League had been forbidden from interfering with. She told him of  the emotional trauma - having to police your own emotions, watching loved ones be used, watching them die horribly, only to have them come back with no memory of the fact.

And then - she told him about Ladybug.

She didn’t swear him to secrecy or threaten him if he told anyone - it spilled out with everything else.

She had been alone.

As a civilian, she was isolated, and as a hero - she had no one to lean on, especially once  entrusted with the Guardian title. She had only her Kwamii (whatever that was - she made it seem like some  all-powerful sprite) who knew her identity, and she couldn’t properly vent for fear of becoming ‘akumatized’.

She told him about the final battle. How it turned out to be the father of a friend who terrorized  everyone, how her partner had nearly fallen apart in grief - as it was his father - and how her partner, her friend, had died saving her from his father’s blade. The blow caused his own power, a "cataclysm" to defensively implode, destroying everything in the vicinity - even the bearer of the ring. Marinette's saving grace was her own power, the ultimate balance to destruction, which shielded her from the blast.

She sobbed into his shoulder after the tale was done until she eventually fell into a deep sleep.

He set her back into the bed gently and covered her with the blankets. Moving to the chair in the corner he  slumped down,  head in his hands,  absorbing  the emotion and information her story had left him with.

A wet nose nudged his arm, and he looked down to see her dog slowly wagging her tail and giving him sad puppy-eyes. He gave her a small smile.

“It’ll be alright…” He shifted to search for a tag to find  her name - not remembering it from Marinette’s initial introduction.

“It’s Squishy.” A small, high voice called. He jerked his head up to watch a red fairy-bug…thing float down to rest on the dog’s head. “Mari found her rooting through some trash in an alley a week after the final battle - they’ve been inseparable  ever since.”

They eyed each other for a moment before he broke the silence.

“...Tikki… right?” That was the name from Marinette’s story. She nodded, her big sky-blue eyes analyzing  his soul.

“I am Tikki, Kwamii  of Creation and good luck. Thank you for helping my chosen tonight - Plagg and I couldn’t wake her.” She drooped. “This one was particularly bad.” He nodded, and another sprite floated over, this one pitch black with a tail, small pointed ears, and ancient, acid green eyes.

“I’m Plagg - Kwamii of Destruction and bad luck - and I won’t hesitate to cataclysm you into oblivion if you hurt my Bug with the info she trusted you with tonight - or at all, for that matter.” It should have been impossible, with all of his experience, to be frightened of such a tiny being, but Damian found himself shuddering at the fierce protectiveness all the same.

“Understood.” Damian nodded.

“Good.” And just like that, the eyes were half-lidded and looked bored. “Do you have any fancy cheese at your place? The Bug cut me off from the good stuff after I tangled  her  expensive yarn or whatever.” He rolled his eyes and crossed his ‘arms’.

“Plagg! Can you not think of your stomach for once?!” The red sprite cried, exasperated.

“I spent the whole night watching Spots and trying to wake her when the dream started, then I threatened the birdboy - that’s a long time!” He pouted, and Damian huffed in amusement at how much the tiny cat reminded him of Todd’s bottomless pit of a stomach.

“There’s blue cheese and brie in the fridge.” He pointed down and to the side where his kitchen lay, and was shocked as the cat passed directly through the wall without a word.

“Sorry about him ,” Tikki said with a fond sigh. “He’s worried about Mari, and pretending he doesn't care is how he copes.” She took on a serious look and pinned him with it.

“I know you’re  a hero and used to keeping secrets, but the miraculous are the most powerful artifacts in the world. We existed  before the dawn of man, and we will far out-live your kind.” He stared at her, the ancient power from the cat now pulsed  from her, telling him she wasn’t to be trifled with.

“Mari is all alone in this, and we planned  to convince her to seek help from your “league of heroes” soon, so this is not entirely  inconvenient - but she trusted you. She is  gifted with excellent instincts - both as a Ladybug and a Guardian - I don’t oppose her choice, but I warn you - should you cause any harm to befall her, you will answer to me.” Damian shuddered for the second time that night - the second time in years - and nodded solemnly.

“I understand.” She searched his eyes for another minute before her own softened.

“I see  you do. You’ve  endured your own trials.” He looked at the lump on the bed to avoid her stare. “I think you will be good for each other.” She mused, rising from Squishy’s head and floating over to the wall connecting his home to Marinettes’.

“I’m going to make sure Plagg hasn’t eaten everything you own.” She giggled, and phased through the wall.

He released a shuddering breath and slumped down from his stiff position - reaching over to pet Squishy’s head as she leaned in and began to thump her tail against the floor. He smiled softly at the sight and sunk further back into the chair with a deep sigh.

He leaned back, staring at the ceiling, trying to sort through how to help the neighbor he’d assumed was after his money and name. He winced at his previous misconceptions. He  needed more practice at  learning to accurately read people - perhaps he could convince Cass to coach him in nonverbal cues.

He shook his head, helping Marinette build  a support system was top priority. He’d always bemoaned his family getting in his way - but at least he’d never been left alone. From her story, it seemed like she’d run  the entire Paris operation on her own the four years Hawkmoth had been at large.

The first step was to involve  his Father and siblings  - they’d know how to execute a plan  - but he felt it had to come  at her own pace. From what she said, she’d had no choice but to play catch-up during her entire battle - since she was twelve.

He continued to chase his thoughts  in a dizzying dance until he eventually succumbed to sleep, not noticing when the kwamii crept back and snuggled in alongside Marinette.

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

Three months later - a tiny girl in a dark red and black ensemble was spotted running on rooftops alongside Robin, Red Hood, and Nightwing, her light, bell-like laughter ringing out into the Gotham night.

The local media pages blew up - the people of Gotham fell  in love with their ‘Ladybird’ and her sweet nature which  opposed the stoic and gruff bats. It was interesting for them to see her banter and fight alongside the other members of the team -  especially Robin, who became  her shadow, rarely leaving her side.

She had several blogs dedicated to her feats and theories about the miraculously healed injuries and repaired battle sites. It didn’t take long for people  from France to find the numerous articles, and start the rumor she was once their ‘Ladybug’, but there was no solid evidence. The two looked and acted completely differently.

Ladybird was free-spirited and light of heart, whereas Ladybug was serious and professional. Many speculated the  Ladybug miraculous  traded hands, but, as there was no supernatural Cat seen, it  remained an unlikely theory.

Unfortunately for the bloggers, it was hard to snag  a good look at the bats, as they thrived in the darkness. Others  commented on Robin’s costume change, but Ladybird’s appearance  took the spotlight.

If they had caught a closer look, they would have found Robin’s red and yellow colors gone , and the forest green was replaced with a more muted-toxic tone. Thankfully, his hood hid the most significant changes as he now sported two small velvet ears that reacted to sound and emotion, and his usual katakana now had a pitch-black blade with green detailing on the hilt.

In completely unrelated news,  the youngest son of Gotham’s resident billionaire was  in the news frequently as he’d taken to hanging around a petite Asian-French girl who was rumored to be a famous designer from France. She was photographed numerous times on outings with Damian and both their dogs - who got  along even better than  their owners.

Due to her kind nature and enchanting  smile, she quickly gained the  nickname  ‘Sunshine of Gotham’ and the tag trended frequently  on Twitter.

During an interview with a fashion magazine, she was asked if she’d ever leave the city of crime, and the answer she’d given was proudly displayed in the Gotham Gazette the next day.

“The people of Gotham have heart and spunk which  can’t be matched - I was welcomed here after a difficult time in France, and I don’t see myself growing tired of being challenged and cared for in the way only Gotham can.”

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

[1] Almalak almuharib - ‘Warrior Angel’ in Arabic [2] Hda - ‘calm’ in arabic [3] Rahab - ‘greet’ in arabic

[ov105]

Redeye

After some delay, and a bit of coincidence. I have reached another summit. It is only appropriate I finish this exactly on Juri’s birthday (10-3-97). 

8,483 words of Takahashi Juri.

In case I don’t see you: Good afternoon, good evening, and good night!

"Last call for Flight 62, last call for Flight 62." 

Damn me. 

If that was what an unjust sentence sounded like, there it is. Running around Narita's terminal with a suitcase in hand and a jacket in hand as I ran to the gate. Barely cutting it to the gate, breathing a sigh of relief as I handed the ticket to the gate agent, calming myself and taking a swig of sanity back as I turned into the tube and almost found it like walking to a conference. It's all quiet until you turn at the last corner, with the flight attendants, all caked up and primly dressed, greeted me as I stepped into the plane, with everybody settling down into their seats.  

Being in a first-class suite for a transpacific crossing was something I would usually never think of even when sitting in the large office chair. But here I was, a week after selection and flying off to my first international assignment in months. 

"Anything you'd like to have before takeoff, sir?" A charming young flight attendant said. Breaking the silence as the ground vehicles whirred outside as they pulled away before pushback. 

"A cola, please, thank you," I replied, still regaining my words as I tried to give my best PR smile to the young lady who just asked me. 

To be fair, she was the prettiest looking among the flight attendants. Probably one of the shorter ones as well, judging by even how her heels didn't hide her petite frame. Another thing was that she seemed to be hiding a voluptuous body behind all those tight clothes. 

The rest of the flight went on as usual, with the Triple Seven pushed back, started engines, and took us 10 minutes taxiing towards the runway. Being holed up in an airplane flying at thirty-four thousand feet, and almost being unbothered by sleepy seatmates. The opportunity that I couldn't be hijacked in my SNS accounts and watch the backlog of movies I downloaded months ago seemed the most practical choice. The in-flight entertainment wasn't bad, but I had my fish to fry.  

It was only about 20 minutes after the opening credits when somebody knocked on the sliding door of the suite I was in. It fussed me, but then I had to see who it was for myself first. 

"Good afternoon, what would you like to have for dinner?" said the same flight attendant that had led me to my seat just an hour and a half ago. Standing on the aisle but just speaking audible enough for me to hear. Sticking to the business script, I asked one thing.

"Is there a menu?"

She did so by her reaching into the cart, out of view from my perspective. My fingers took in the leather-bound menu and opening it. The laptop was to my right, earphones plugged in, but the display itself was connected to the screen before my seat. The attendant must've noticed it when she snuck some of her personality into my little world.

"Ah, this one gets exciting," she said, making me look to the screen and how her eyes were on it, connecting two-and-two.

"Already is, actually," I said, briefly closing the menu and looking up at the pretty egg-faced lady standing on my doorway, "You like these too?" 

"Ah, yes,  I think they're the best type of movies to watch," she replied. I just smiled and agreed, looking down on the menu again. However, I felt the need to put a name on the pretty face that I now just broke the ice with. 

"Hey, if it isn't too rude, what's your name?" I asked, an arm out as she returned the gesture and replied. 

"Juri," she managed to say, telling me that she was a bit shocked. A charming young passenger often doesn't reach out like this. 

"Then, Juri, I'd like this for dinner," I said as I turned the menu facing her and pointing on the set I'd want. She wouldn't know, but that small talk I had with her made me want to get something different for that one moment. I was giving the menu back to her once she jotted it down.

"I'll see you later then, Juri," I replied with my best business smile as she had her hand on the door. She blushed slightly and returned my greeting. Closing the door as she left and found myself settling down again. 

What kind of luck did I just get to do that? I thought as I pressed the spacebar and took a large swig off the cola bottle. The hours passed. The movie had entered into the third act by the time the dinner service came knocking. As expected, it was Juri who knocked on the door and gave me my meal. It was a complete surprise they had improved with the inflight meal. Though maybe it was just me being sulky and all too used to the economy class meals. 

Speaking of relationships with women, it had been a while since I had one. She was just a sex freak who just wanted to fuck so she wouldn't drink herself into a hangover. Being the bearer of her incorrect way of coping with stress, I learned some despite me telling her to see a therapist. We practically fucked almost anywhere; on the beach, in the car, or the mall fitting room - you name it, I probably fucked my ex there. She also liked it when I didn't pull out, provided she ordered it, of course - something about filling a woman up just made me crave it more.

I finished supper thinking about my past, and almost entirely sexual relationship. Last I heard, my ex was slutting up to her new boyfriend too. However, I washed that over as I took another sip to seal the meal. After that, I had all the plates already taken away. I found myself a glass of liquor, with two bottles in the fridge, and pudding to eat as I binged on my laptop. I checked my watch to see it was 11:00 pm, with a small plate of what used to be the bittersweet pudding lying beside me. That was the day's meal for me, so I pressed the call button to see who'd, if there ever would, come to pick it up this time. 

It was Juri. 

"I see you've enjoyed your dinner," She said warmly. I often get referred to by my pronouns like it was in the office, but I let Juri slide for me. 

"And I see you've been dropping the honorifics," I replied as I looked out to the night sky and took a swig. 

"I-I'm sorry..," the Japanese girl stammered out, trying to look me in the eye, but looked down once I put my gaze on her. She looked dejected. Almost like she'd been caught in her tracks being too friendly to her passengers. 

"It's fine, Juri. I didn't mean to sound like that. Trust me, it's alright," I said, trying to reassure her, and in my years of managing, the kinaesthetic element kicked in. Next thing I knew, my free hand was tapping on her right wrist. 

Looking up, I saw Juri was very much surprised at the sudden contact. I shared the same sentiment, my fingers abruptly letting go of her as I retracted it, rubbed my hands together, and took a swig from the glass to try and distract myself from how awkward every second was at that moment. 

"Sorry for that," I said as I fussed on my seat, clearly trying to distance myself as much as possible from the flight attendant, remembering the professional boundary between us. 

"It's okay," Juri replied. Feeling a hand tap my left shoulder while I looked away. I laid my hand on hers and just nodded. I told her that it was okay, though I did find it awkward. 

"I mean come on, I'm not trying to come off as awkward," she began, "I'm assuming we're just the same age, right? Besides, we don't have the purser now. She won't be awake until morning." Juri finished. A purser would be the head flight attendant, so I assumed it was a more youthful cabin crew for the red-eye.

"Hey, it's just us 20 somethings right here," She began, a million scenarios and a million tons of doubt formed in my head as my eyebrow raised a bit. She either wanted to swindle or be true to me.

"Don't tell me you've done this before and scammed the first-class passengers. I'm not falling for it," I shot back, my executive in play. Juri was shocked by the stand-off tone I dropped that in. 

"But okay, continue." 

"I'm not scamming you... can't I just watch a movie with you?" She managed to stammer out, clearly trying to get around my authoritative tone. I've done my fair bit of asking and being asked out by girls as far back as middle school, and being in that generation, if it wasn't a convenience store, and there was nothing big due tomorrow, it was always the movies. I just gulped down - I wasn't expecting it inside an airliner. I moved her aside and peered my head out, checking if somebody may come in.

"You sure nobody will suspect you here?" I asked.

"Not a soul," Juri replied.

I took her by hand and pulled her in, making sure she put her shoes inside to hide. It was a much smaller space than I had imagined, the dainty Japanese lady only having enough room with both of us inside. I moved a bit to make some space, but that wasn't her idea. She unbuttoned her jacket and hung it on the door rack, besides mine. She was crawling up beside me just as the episode started. She laid next to me, now putting into perspective how short she was. But it was not helping me keep away as she crossed her arms, her strapless dark colored bra made her tits bunched up, looking large and soft under the white cloth.

I may have attempted to brush it aside because the movie we were watching was the only one with a gratuitous sex scene in the entire trilogy. I had it spoiled to me by a friend of mine months before when it was the talk of the town and how everybody got their tissue after the credits rolled. 

During the beginning of the sex scene, I noticed she was glancing at me, catching her eyeing me and looking away, keeping to herself. I still looked straight ahead, trying not to think about the tight circumstances we were into.

"You're thinking of something?" I asked, alluding to the obvious.

"Maybe I am." Juri replied - What the fuck. 

I looked at her, and before I knew it, Juri was glancing at my lips, and her hand was below my cheek. Pushing down at her as our lips met, with her moving forward as a simple kiss became a lustful one. The sound of smooching lips soon being replaced by our tongues as I gently pushed her down. Soft hands were moving from my cheeks, past my neck, and onto my collar, feeling her unbutton my shirt as I kissed her deeper. Feeling her soft body up through the fabric like it was dough, hearing her moan ever so slightly while my fingers danced up and squeezed her dainty, yet fleshy frame. 

"Relax, it's not like they'll come looking for me," Juri said as my hand got closer to her chest, now exposed from her playful fingers.

"You've already said that I've just been thinking about this since I saw it," I said as I pressed down the third button on her shirt and popped it open, quickly moving up to the second and doing the same. Juri kept looking at me with those tempting dark brown eyes that told me to slip myself in as her hands pulled me closer. Feeling my way through the crevice and feeling that soft, milky skin, then traveling up to the hem of her bra. Smiling a bit like I just found treasure, before I slipped from below and heard her moan when she felt my fingers brush her nipples.

Stopping a bit as she felt my fingers wrap around her tits, she removed one hand around my cheek and wrapped it around my left forearm and pushed it forward, as if to squeeze her tits. I bit my lip at the feeling of the soft flesh, rightfully firm but just as fluffy as I made them out to be. I kissed Juri again to try and suppress her moans, which grew louder the harder I squeezed. I decided that her bra wasn't helping and slipped my hand out, finding my way up and making quick work of the first, then the last button.

"Let's just get rid of everything," I said as I straightened my back and removed my shirt. Juri was mirroring me as she took hers off. But before she could reach for her bra, my hands slipped under her and moved ourselves to sit against the cabin wall. Now, Juri was sitting on me, her thighs providing enough cushion that it felt warm as her weight sat on me. 

"You're quick," Juri said, talking about how we were watching one moment, and now, she was sitting, half-undressed on me. 

I just continued kissing her, now biting on her lip as our bodies warmed up, both in heat and atop one another. Slipping my hand up her back and inside her bra, unclipping it and hearing her lightly gasp as it came off. Her hands quickly moved to ease herself out, looking like a Greek maiden as she moved temptingly, watching it fall to the pillow before both of our eyes met. Juri then kept an iron gaze now, but I could tell she was just trying not to be shy. She just felt completely naked. 

With a glance on my lips, she moved forward and then had us making out again, sliding my hand up and below her tits, forming a handful and cupping one of her, then lightly squeezing the soft flesh and hearing the slightest hint of a moan as she kissed deeper. I just squeezed harder, my other thumb moving up to flick her nipple. Juri's hands were closing tighter around my neck, almost as if she was trying to deny me her tits for the moment. Moving my tongue against hers now, we've become sloppy, the sound of our lips kissing while our tongues spoke for us made me careless to how precarious our situation was. I could even sense her warmth when she grinded herself a bit. 

"You practiced?" I asked, being surprised she was such a pretty kisser.

"Must be the adult films," Juri replied as she blushed a little, myself chuckling as she avoided my gaze.

Seeing her guard down, I dived down to her tits. Quickly licking her nipple and wrapping my mouth around it, tugging as I rounded my tongue, the little bud. Juri bit her lip and moaned behind it, her hand wrapping around my neck to push me closer. I kept attacking that single nipple for what seemed to be forever. It was almost like I had missed having sex. 

Juri was bearing the brunt of that gated lust as I felt her stick herself ever closer to me. Almost like she was forcing her weight against the wall, My suckling lips and lashing tongue sandwiched between it. I can feel her shudder when I flicked my tongue hard against her nipple, pinching the other between my thumb and index finger. A few times, sucking the soft flesh and tugging it forward, almost making Juri yell as it had overwhelmed her, and giving us away. 

She gave a bit more before pulling back, watching as her nipples became coated with my saliva. Juri herself looked much different from how she did just earlier, her lips wet from how many times she bit and slid her tongue across them, her hair already somewhat messy from when I laid her down. I still couldn't wrap my head around the fact she was so close to me now. 

"Still don't want me to-"I said before being cut off.

"-to eat me out? Be my guest." Juri said as she slipped back from me, her hands traveling down her body and into the hem of her skirt, pushing them down and past her thick, stubby legs. She was taking her panties with that tight dress that had covered her ass for so long. Her pussy was shaved and hidden between those smooth thighs. 

Admittedly, I was not too fond of that bold tone. Then I'd instead make Juri yell when I'm eating her out. 

Pushing her off, she took the cue and slid a pillow under her head. Sliding her skirt up and showing me the bow of her panties. I slid my hands up her soft thighs, hooked her by the hem, and pulled it down, almost like I was forcing it off of her. Once I had it out of the way, I hovered over her, my shadow above, slipping my hand between her thighs, quickly sliding my finger against her folds, placing two and rubbing again, pulling it up to see my fingertips glistening, looking at her as if she failed me.

"So much for being daring," I stated, taking control of our situation back to me.

Stepping back on my knees, Juri lifted herself against the wall, just giving me enough space to still be on the bed. Then pulled her back slightly as I put my hands behind her knees and pushed them up, before wrapping my hands around her thighs and almost leaped headfirst into her. She then had a hard time keeping quiet at the sudden warmth that jolted from inside her. Her body jerked at once as I licked her clit. Excitedly smiling, I repeated it. She bit down on her lip as she moaned at the quick, electrifying pressure that came from her. Hands-on my hair as her head dropped to one side and gritted her teeth. She wasn't expecting me to go this fast. 

I quickly turned it up to eleven by engulfing her clit in my mouth, licking away at it. Juri put her fingers around her mouth, hearing her muffled whimpers and moans as her hips rolled. Grabbing her tits and squeezing them just tripled her pleasure as she shook at the relentless pressure on her clit. Looking up to see her eyebrows furrowed as she slowly got a hold of herself and her moans. Her legs closed in, as if she didn't want me to pull back. 

Slowing down for Juri a bit, I move down and begin licking her folds, feeling some of her juices right on my palate as I coursed my tongue upwards just below her clit. Closing my eyes and focusing solely on how my tongue glided into her entrance, almost like prodding a cave. Hearing her muffled moans ever so often as her hand slowly came back around my nape and pulled me closer, with her pushing herself slightly against me. Making her weak when I suckled around her clit, as if I was kissing it. Bucking her hips every so often as breathless moans left the petite flight attendant under my mercy.

"You go any faster, I'd have to replace the sheets," Juri warned as I lifted off her, catching my breath.

"Come on. It's not like I'm going to make you sleep in here, you know," I replied, slowly sliding my hand into position before her pussy, my two fingers looking like two Sidewinders poised to enter. Her folds moist but pristine, a sure sign of her innocence. 

"Besides, it shouldn't be that hard for us to replace, right?" I continued, just as she must've felt her nerves sliding against my fingers. Averting my gaze as I pushed two in, making Juri gasp and bite her lip, hands holding on to the sheets when I combined it with my tongue on her clit. Pressing my fingers made her hips buck again, cutting out the work of having to crane my neck down as Juri ever slowly pushed herself against the wall, her petite frame playing into an advantage for me. She can't keep backing off forever, having to fall prey to my fingers inside her and my tongue as often. 

I dove back down onto her. Focused on the split flesh that had both of my fingers stuck inside it, pushing it deep as I pouted my lips out to meet her clit. Giving it a while as I fingered Juri and listened to her try and stifle her moans. Her hands were sliding back around my neck and pushing me into her. Me pressing my fingers upward while looking for her spot, pressing when she moaned the loudest, knowing I had found her spot as Juri writhed, feeling the soft skin rub ever so often against my sides. 

I guess with how thick Juri is. She bore her shaking better. Feeling her slightly jolt and rock as she hummed and moaned. The whole burning sensation came down to her thighs as she slowly closed them around me, pleading for me to go faster as I intensified the pressure against her. Making Juri slowly put her head back against the bulkhead, barely maintaining awareness whether or not some other passenger was in the suite behind us. Looking up after a bit, Juri saw my lip, all wet from my saliva, and of course, her juices. 

"I told you I'd have to change the sheets," Juri replied, tsk tsk, as she put her fingers under my chin, "Plus, your lips are dirty," she continued as she wiped her thumb over my lower lip, "You've got such a good tongue," she finished with a compliment as she licked her thumb.

"We're pretty much in a rush."

"What do you mean?" I said, an eyebrow raised. 

"How about you let me play with you?" Juri replied. How aggressive of her. I just chuckled before moving forward to kiss her. Both of us moved back with Juri's hand hooked on my belt the moment I was on my knees. Looking up at me as she pulled, it was an unwritten signal to stop before averting her gaze downward and undoing the belt, making quick work of me as I suddenly felt cold, now being more than just half-naked. 

Juri didn't say anything, apart from that sly smile once she saw what she had to play with. Quickly grabbing hold of me as her fingers wrapped around my cock, stroking it, and just as I was quick to get down on her clit, her tongue was already making circles around my head. Sending chills up my spine as she rounded it one, two, three times. Before she pulled back and let me sit down, my legs apart and Juri coming close, she said.

"Been a while for me, but I'll try and be quick," Juri said.

Without using her hands this time as she bowed her head down as her neck craned forward, turned a bit to the side as a glint of breath brushed over the head. Her lips captured me quickly as her mouth formed around my tip, pushing herself down as the warmth of her tongue slid under it. Though she did prefer to wrap her lips around the head, making circles around it until I was hard enough before she went down on my shaft. 

She took a few inches of me and bobbed her head around the shaft, being more used to quick, flame-like licks of her tongue flashing up against my head. Perhaps she wasn't one for deepthroating or getting too dirty now. She just teased a lick before taking half of me in, her cheeks hollowing out as she pulled back. 

I let out a long, low exhale as she took me in slowly. Taking a few inches in and back, and settling at that pace, looking up at me as I had my hands balled up in fists and holding back moans as Juri had her way with me. She popped off and giggled a bit at my seeming misfortune before wrapping her lips around me again and pulling me back in as her tongue danced around my tip. 

She must've guessed me correctly, seeing her eyes glance and feel that my thighs shook and felt limp whether she hit that spot. Juri had seen through me, going deep down my length, then lingering around it before dropping her neck down again. I felt her throat constrict as it reached the end of her mouth, making her pull back and lightly gasp. 

"Fuck, that was a surprise," Juri said, breaking the tension a little as she stuck her tongue out and made rounds with my cock. Before long, she was going as deep as she could, making me hit the back of her mouth, coupled with how she moved her tongue and cheek around me. It was an exercise of patience by itself. She bobbed down five more times before she couldn't hold herself back any longer.

"Don't you just wanna fuck me now?" The Japanese stewardess shot at me. I just beckoned her to come closer as she turned around and showed her ass to me. She sat down with her legs folded back, bending over just a bit to display her plump ass and lips that were begging to be parted. Pulling her back to me, Juri wipes her lips on her wrists before whispering to me, 

"Don't hold back. I wanna feel you." 

Feeling my cock poke against her entrance. I pull both of us back a bit in a position where I could enter my whole length without a problem. She held her ass open, now seeing how truly plump they were, my gaze moving up from her pristine back to see her anticipating stare. Our instincts took over as she pushed back against me, without using our hands, my cock nestled in between her lips. She moaned, biting her lip as she felt it poking against her entrance. Sliding it as I felt the tip become wet, and my impatience greater as Juri smiled a bit between her small moans. 

Suddenly, Juri sat down on me. My cock hardening as it broke through her folds and instantly filled her up. Her walls immediately squeezed as her ass smacked against my groin. Making me throb and throw my head back at the sudden tightness, with her prior orgasm having made her slick. Juri let out a shrill cry, biting her lip as her brain blanked out, reducing both of us to a whimper as she looked back at me, eyebrows furrowed and lip on her teeth. I would've paid greatly to see that. Very much proud of her handiwork as I looked, and was completely vulnerable, my elbows almost failing me as her grip scalded my shaft. Even then, I was beaten to the punch as the feeling in my groin shut me up, weak at first penetration.

"Fuck, I feel so full right now. That kinda hurt," Juri said, almost as if she enjoyed that tinge of such girth surprising her. Her pussy was still squeezing, making her whimper as she began to ride me, her grip unbelievably tight, both of us feeling each other up with my dick snugly being strangled inside her. I was gritting my teeth together, my head throwing back when she rose to the tip and sunk. 

She put her hands behind her back, laying them on my thighs as she supported herself, keeping her back as straight as she could as her ass slowly picked up the pace. Going slowly as she was trying to feel me first, watching her face as it turned sideways, seeing her trying not to lose it as my cock speared into her. Feeling her squeeze, with myself throbbing while her pussy lubricated my shaft, seeing it becoming wetter and wetter as her pace relaxed. 

"I'm going to take a while getting used to this," Juri said as she went halfway up and began to fuck herself on my cock. Beginning to moan as discreetly as she could as she made a metronome for herself, taking it neither too fast nor too slowly. My cock is enjoying every single bit of the tightest pussy and the plumpest ass I've had. Her mouth stuck open as her moans became a bit of a mess. Still not wanting to moan loudly despite our suite being soundproof. 

"If you want to be loud and ride me. Ride me," I ordered. Seeing her stop as she smiled a bit.

Turning her pace up a bit as her moans picked up, sounding like a sweet schoolgirl just as I had thought. Hearing her begin to call out my name and swear to herself in between as she felt herself become so full. I began to feel my toes tiring out from curling so much because of the pleasure she gave to my cock, having never felt this rock hard fucking a woman. Because of that, she was becoming horny enough to go fast with how hard I was, with myself beginning to moan. Almost wanting to take her by the hips and fuck her rough. But I thought it would be a waste to ruin the meal.

"You like that?" I asked as she seemed to get comfortable with her pace, making her snap out of her moaning a bit and breaking her stride.

Juri just nodded through her whimpers. I damn well knew then her stride wasn't going to stop. She's determined to make me feel her at her tightest as she grew slicker as the seconds ticked by. Feeling her constrict ever so often when my cock slid up against her walls, seeing her toes curl in tune with her walls. She wanted to cum on me. She whimpered and shook, her pace increasing immensely as her confidence grew out of that shell.

I've had one night stands with girls before. Often talking about the most mundane things you could think of, with every last one of them pinning me against the door as soon as I closed it. They missed and didn't dare ask what I wanted the most, to take it slow. Yes, it's a bit of a stretch to say Juri rushed me, yet she took her time to know at least a tiny bit of myself, aside from the cock that's inside her, that is. I just thought about it to distract myself. My eyes shut a bit to take in that choking tightness and those sweet little moans that left her mouth. 

Juri then squeezed, leaned forward with her hands down on the bed. Showing even more of our connection as my cock nicely parted her folds open. Juri then pushed back and didn't stop until she hit my groin, herself moaning at the depth. I only followed when she squeezed, pulled, and went back, almost like my cock was getting sucked as her walls formed around it. She gradually picked up her pace, her ass beginning to bounce as it hit me, with her beginning to groan and whimper as she got to speed. I didn't notice she was becoming tighter and tighter by the second as she straightened her back and kept her pace. 

She looked back at me with that look in her eyes as she put her hands back and braced on my knees, her strokes becoming shorter, all while I was deep inside her. She wanted to fuck herself hard and didn't want me to. She wanted to use me to make herself cum as hard as she could. I was feeling myself throb ever so slightly, but while I enjoyed the view of the plump girl, with her ass bouncing, and me spearing into her. I was far from my release, having done my fair share of trying to be beaten to it. Often, girls rushing themselves too much and dragging me, but not Juri. I genuinely enjoyed her.

Though I wanted to have a piece of the pie myself, despite being deep inside it already. I grabbed Juri's hips, my cock slipping out as I pulled my legs back and stood on my knees. Not giving her a second to react as she looked back with furrowed eyes, visibly annoyed as her hip suddenly felt empty. I pulled her arms up to me, and soon she was facing me. Her pretty egg-shaped face with her messy hair a far cry from her prim and proper look earlier, pecking forward to kiss her. As our lips broke away, I glanced down to see my cock wetter than ever before, then slipping it inside her walls. I gave myself a taste of doing it as I felt that tight sensation all over again. 

Quickly giving it to Juri with the short thrusts she was doing to me, but I had penetrated deeper this time around. Turning her annoyance to moans and whimpers as she tried suppressing herself. I could feel her shaking even more now, her tightness making me throb while I grazed over her spot. She was due. 

"Do you like me that much?" Juri asked, out of breath. I gave her another kiss.

"What do you think?" I asked back, "You were gonna cum, weren't you?" I added. She just smiled and gave me another kiss - yes. 

My grip on her hips tightened, and on a rampaging pace, I went, unpredictable, fast thrusts that made Juri lose composure and drop down on the sheets. One moment I went short, and another I was deep in her. Thinking of fucking her just enough to push her over. Biting my lip as I saw myself going fast inside Juri. My groin smacked her ass as it rippled, and I felt that familiar weight beginning to tease me. Having Juri entirely at my mercy as she dropped her head down. Myself wanting to give it to her as I fucked her like an animal, one who slowly had me wrapped around her loins, 

"I'm... I'm gonna cum!" Juri cried out between whimpers before grabbing a fistful of bedsheet in her mouth. Her hands clutched at the sheets, threatening to tear it as she held on. She tightened while I took the cue and dialed down. Moaning aloud as she tightened some more and completely squeezed me as she shook. Her legs were almost closing as she ebbed, backing up against me and sliding my whole length in her. She threw her head back as she felt the entire length of it mid-orgasm. That sudden, final grip made me groan as I did my best to hold back as she rolled her hips back against me. I tried my best to take the pleasure head-on as Juri let her juices out despite the grip she had on me. Finally, she let me hear her as she let go of the cloth in her mouth, her final moans making her breathless as she piped down. Giving her a bit before I pulled out of her, a wet shaft greeted me, with a few of her juices dripping down like honey as I glided my ass over soft, shapely ass. I slid my hand under her and leaned in.

"How was that?" I asked. Juri ran her hands through her hair, clearing her face, responding to me with a kiss.

"Never came that hard before with a guy," Juri replied, inches away from my face.

"Next time, I'm taking you with me," Juri said, both as a warning and as a dare for me to give it to her again.

"I'll remember that," I replied with confidence, chuckled, and put my lips on hers again. She then rolled over, and I lied down, now facing the in-flight TV as Juri blocked the view, being the better one of either. Taking my cock and pushing it against her lips. She moved and slid her lips over it, exploiting how wet they already were as she slid over my dick, teasing herself a bit, walls dripping wet on the underside—lubing it before she stopped and pushed it against her entrance—bucking her hips backward as I watched it disappear back into her. 

"Fuck."

That's what came out of our mouths after I stung back inside Juri. She was much tighter, much slicker, and far better than before. I looked up at the ceiling as my cock throbbed a few times as she went. Biting her lip as she came down the entire length of my cock down to the base, squeezing a bit as she exhaled, giving me that look that she wasn't expecting me to slide so easily. Putting her hands on my chest as she propped her legs down and pulled herself up. Leaving herself on the tip before slamming herself down again, her whole upper body arching back. Taking my chances as she pushed up again, I sat upright, much to her surprise. My lips made a beeline to her tits as she just gazed at me in surprise. Quickly wrapping them and my tongue darting out as I sucked and tugged on her right tit, making her slow down a bit as she whimpered.

"Don't you want me to make you feel good?" Juri said as she pulled me away from her. Seemingly oblivious to how amazing she felt, even more so now. 

"You already are," I replied as I moved to her other tit. Juri took the cue and wrapped her arm around my shoulder, and began riding at the perfect pace. Both of us let out sounds of our pleasure over each other's bodies as she did so. I held the stewardess tight in my embrace as she rolled her hips on me. My entire groin felt warm as her juices trickled down from her pussy while my shaft tightly speared inside of her, stirring ourselves for another orgasm.

Rolling and bucking her hips forward and back, in an exchange of slippery kisses and lustful glances. I found myself tugging on her nipples before finding myself on her lips again. Both places being just as right for me, being the beautiful woman she was. Hearing her small whimpers and weak moans as she rode me lovingly, our faces were inches away from one another, sometimes our foreheads together before I went down the sides of her neck, the smooth, milky surfaces all a pleasure to kiss while she rode my cock. 

"You're the first guy to do that," Juri said after I went up to her neck.

"You like it?" I asked, being a party trick I had learned from watching too many Western sitcoms in my youth. 

"It's gonna take a while, but yeah, I like it," she shyly replied. It was just apt, I suppose, with how pretty and smooth her neck was, much more the face it held up. She said, slowing herself down now in slow, deep thrusts, being more confident of herself now to slowly roll over me as she put her hands on my chest and pushed me down, keeping her gaze at me all the while. Her hands on my stomach, groaning as that all too well feeling struck me, reminding me as I throbbed in her while that weight built up. It was a scale getting ever more fragile.

With such finesse, I had a full view of Juri's body in the middle of it all. Her hair was a mess, made messier as she ran her fingers through it, and her face a bit tired like mine. Her soft, milky skin on my fingertips as I traced up from her full thighs, sat against me, to her hips that moved and squeezed around me, past her tummy, all that fat and muscle provided more than enough to hold onto as I was deep inside her. Then up to her breasts as my hands squeezed around them, grabbing the soft mounds of flesh as I felt myself throb in her. We were in that state for a while, the way Juri moved teasing me to either an orgasm as I throbbed ever so often. I was thinking of folding my legs up and charging it home, but I had to do something different. 

"You want me to fuck you?" I asked as she stopped and leaned in, her breath ragged as she gave her strength up fucking me instead. 

"I like that idea," Juri replied, forgetting she'd been doing almost everything since earlier.

"Good. I like fucking you from behind." 

"You don't want to face me?" Juri replied. Thinking I made her feel bad. Wanting to make up for that slight error, I put my hand around her neck and pulled her in for a kiss. 

"Hey, don't you wanna do this again sometime, when we have all the time?" I replied as I seemingly invited her to where I stayed.

"Well, I got all the time off after this, you?" She asked.

"I'll try finishing everything by tomorrow. Then you can come with me."

"Sounds like a plan," Juri replied as she crashed her lips hard on me. Reversing back against me as she reminded me - I was still inside her. Both of us moaning through our liplock as she slowly went back and forth on me before, before rising to a quick gallop that nearly tempted fate as she rocked me with her hips, and by extension, the bed. Before letting me go with a pop, a slick, sensitive mess. 

Juri remained on the bed, myself going around and pulling her further back to the edge of the bed. She just looked at me as she adjusted, with her legs closed and her pussy all for show. Placing a knee up with my leg extended down to the floor, with no hands to guide myself in as my tip homed in between her pussy lips, sliding it up and down carefully before pushing it in. Both of our gazes went straight ahead as I pushed deep into Juri. Pulling back a bit as she was much tighter with her legs closed, and all that slickness helping to suck me in, I couldn't deny I felt myself begin leaking a bit of precum then. 

"You should've closed your legs before," I remarked. 

"I know, fuck. It feels so good," Juri replied, letting out a long moan as I pushed back in again. With my hands on her hips and weight pushing her down, I quickly built up my pace, intending to make her pronebone. She let out all sorts of moans as gravity took its course. Not long after, I was kneeling on the bed, with her ass flared up, pulling her against me while I pushed against her. She looked back at me with a look of absolute pleasure as I kept running over her spot. Her squeezing at me as I throbbed inside her made me know it for both of us. I was close. 

Then, I was struck with the pleasure of it all. A supposedly ordinary flight, and now I'm inside one of the thicker women I've ever laid with, her moans and cries of pleasure, finding my name in then as she locked my cock in between her legs. Feeling light-headed for a second as she squeezed on me, moaning as it surged up my veins and hit me like a pitch. Taking it as a signal to go deeper, Juri clawed back on to the sheets as I fucked her, digging my knees and pushing all I had and gave it to her, the fastest I could without essentially doing her too roughly. With how loud she returned that pleasure, it was a blessing the walls were soundproofed. As I fucked her faster and dangerously tread that scale as I mind split itself whether to cum inside her now, or last as long as I could until we both came.

I chose the latter.

I slammed deep into Juri, earning a moan from her, tapped her to open her legs, and leaned in, moving her hair aside, noticing the thin sheen of sweat before kissing her nape as my hands moved down and squeezed her tits, going slow and deep as my lips moved to her earlobes.

"I think I'm close." 

Her head turned to face me, near breathless, our lips meeting each other before she said it.

"Cum in me"

I only replied with a peck on her lips as I pulled her back up. Now both of us only on our knees, and whosoever our hands found to hold, with Juri's dark brown eyes right onto mine, both of us knew full well that we were at the pearly gates. There were no more words to be said. She just whispered something in my ear before our tongues were deep in each other again. Beginning to thrust as I plunged deep every time inside Juri, herself returning the favor by pushing against me, essentially the perfect combination. The girth of my cock being sucked back in by her tight folds, that same tightness having never left from her lips, it was heavenly, and euphoric as she got slicker throughout. The feeling of her toned thickness on top of it all driving me on, going faster to a point where her cries of pleasure more or less began to echo throughout the room, prompting me to cover her with my hand as I laid my head on her shoulders, giving shy kisses to her shoulder. At the same time, I felt the weight beginning to take me over, that familiar tingle on me almost making me slip. I forced myself to go faster, deeper into her. Her moans now clawing down as her grip on my hands held on for dear life. She had wanted me to do her dirty with that gaze.

Juri began pulsating, me having fucked her hard enough to grant her one final orgasm. Feeling her body convulse as it shook against me, both of us letting out a groan as I began to crack against her. Her cum began to trickle down, with my cock parting, piercing between her flesh, it became too much to bear. I had flown too close to the sun.

The first, thick shots of cum left me with a groan. Juri let out a whimper as our orgasms matched in intensity. Both of us shook as we held each other tightly, barely being able to control ourselves as we hurtled over the edge. I found myself throbbing painfully in her walls as our juices mixed. Having her milk every last drop of me as I forced the last of my strength to keep fucking her throughout. She took me all in stride, her thick body bearing my brunt, slowing down eventually as I felt that sappy mess of lustful fluids pooled inside Juri. Both of us were barely able to keep standing on our knees as our lips found each other in a deep kiss. I held her as tight as I could as my hands moved down her body as my throbbing died out. Our grips became weak as humanity caught up to us.

"Fuck, I shook a lot, didn't I?" She said, dismissing herself. 

"That just means you made us cum a bit too hard," I replied.

"I guess I have something to look forward to then?" She asked, still thinking of earlier. 

Safe to say, I had just experienced euphoria. I didn't want to hold my peace forever for Juri.

"Be my guest." 

Juri ran a hand up my cheek, then kissed me there. Probably as a thank you for giving her such a pleasure, she was returning for when I kissed her immediately. I had too many things to be thankful for by then.

Juri then pushed herself off, quickly reaching for the tissue as my cum began to leak out. It looked deceptively more as we came simultaneously, almost at the expense of the tissue box as I looked and saw the creases, the dampness of the bed from two impatient lovers who earlier, just played on it. 

Juri just laughed at how much she had to get off from inside her, admitting then that she had never shaken that hard when she came. Me replying that I hadn't in a very long while, that's for sure. Both of us were boiling it down to just the perfect match as I reached over to the fridge and pulled out a drink for us both, a mere attempt to quench out human spirits amongst the many kisses that we shared as we talked amongst ourselves and dressed up. Juri spent a lot of time merely redoing her hair and hiding the creases of her shirt, spending another hour talking about the movie we had just missed because we had sex. At least, both of us didn't feel too old as we talked. I then had her lie down on my arm as I put it back on, skipping over the sex scene to avoid a repeat. 

It took me until the credits to notice myself near the oblivion of sleep that my muse had already slept. She looked just as perfect as she did earlier that day, not knowing what she would become in a beautiful chain of fortunate events. I could neither tell if it was a one night stand or the stars lining up by then. Knowing that she had to go back out, I nudged her awake. I saw a slight frown on her face as she rubbed her eyes, knowing what she had to do. 

"We wouldn't have to do this in LA. I could wake up beside you there instead," Juri said as she leaned in for one final kiss. 

I then opened the door for her, feeling a bit sorry that she had to leave for the crew quarters at the plane's back. I knew, however, we were looking forward to seeing each other after today, and every single day to come after. Both of us laughing as I saw her off, giving me one last goodnight kiss as the petite Japanese lady, named Takahashi Juri, walked off into the night with my heart in hand. 

[markleesthighs]

Hotel! AU With Lucas~?? 👉👈

-idk what you meant by hotel, but umm manager lucas makes me think, so like crazy rich!y/n x hotel manager! lucas

[7:27 PM] Your finally got off your long plane ride, landing in Seoul. Your sister was getting married to her longtime boyfriend, which was a wedding the talk of all of Seoul. Your sister was an actress and her boyfriend was a famous director, both winning oscars overseas. You, on the other hand was a world class fashion icon, showing up at multiple fashion weeks and constantly having high class brands beg for your to wear their pieces. It would be no shock that once you stepped off your family’s private jet, there was paparazzi active, asking who you were wearing and what you were planning on wearing to the wedding. Your sisters wedding was in one of the most exclusive and expensive hotels in all of Seoul, and they rented out the entire hotel for its guests. Your limo pulled up to the gates where you stated your name and verified your identification to let the guards open the gates. As you pulled up a handsome man who opened the limo door for you and held your hand. You felt some sort of warmth to his touch and his eyes made your heart melt. You hadn’t felt this way about someone since your ex boyfriend 2 years ago. What were you thinking? Someone like you? Dating someone like him? It would be the end of the world for the both of you. You looked down at his name tag as it read “Lucas” An interesting name you thought.

“Hello I am Lucas, the manager of the hotel, let us help you with your luggage and any accommodations you will need.” He said as he graciously held your purse for you.

“Thank you.”

You walked into the hotel to be greeted with your sister squealing bringing you into a hug. You hugged her fiancé as you caught up with her while Lucas checked you in.

“Miss y/n, you are checked in for the presidential suite at the top floor, let me also show you to your room and give you the tour.”

“T-thank you”

You sister noticed your stutter, something that generally can back when you were flustered or around someone you liked. She gave you a smirk and winked as you rolled your eyes and glared at her, hoping Lucas didn’t see.

You walked into an elevator with only you and Lucas as it was dead silent. You looked at him looking at his fashion choices, which you generally judged people on. He had Cartier studs, a perfectly fitted Hermès suit, a shiny new Rolex, and shiny Gucci loafers. He had good taste you thought to yourself. As the elevator door opened you tripped on elevator crack with your heel as he caught you hold you firmly and supporting you.

“Are you alright? You must be more careful when stepping off with such beautiful Louboutin shoes, I wouldn’t want to scuff those.”

You were starstruck, he smelled like Versace cologne and it mixed beautifully with your Chanel No. 5 perfume as you saw he also took a liking to your perfume. He helped you stand back up with his arm now supporting you as you both strolled to your room. You noticed that Lucas was still taller than you with your heels on which was rare since most guys wouldn’t dare approach you with your reflective sunglasses and intimidating behavior. Lucas unlocked and opened the door to one of the most luxurious hotel rooms you’ve seen. You’ve traveled and stayed at expensive hotels overseas but nothing compared to this suite. It smelled like fresh cotton and flowers, and everything was perfectly polished and cleaned. You were marveled, you would usually have at least a complaint by now but you were left speachless. Your clothes were already placed in the closet, color coded perfectly. All of your skincare and makeup of beautifully organized on the sink and vanity.

“Is everything up to your standards, miss y/n?.”

“Y-yes...h-how did.”

“We consulted your assistants, butlers, and maids overseas about your standards and wanted to make sure they were followed accordingly.”

You looked over at the vase of violets.

“How did you know violets were my favorite?”

“I didn’t. I always think violets have a calming scent and look, that can make any place feel like home.” He said with a smile.

“If theres anything else we can do for you, you can give us a call on the phones or use the PA systems located around your room. Enjoy your stay. “

As he walked out you took a look around your room, hoping to find a complaint (to see Lucas again) but you had none. You even noticed your bed was folded perfectly so a flap would be open on the side of the bed you slept on. As you sat down you got a call from your sister who was begging you to come down to the hotel’s restaurant to go have dinner with her and her fiancé, to catch up and go over last minute wedding decorations (since you had one of the most detailed eyes in the world). You agreed as you changed into a Dior sundress, Hermès sandals, and a Prada clutch. You opened the elevator to the entrance of the restaurant where your sister was exitedly waving you down at their table.

“It’s so lovely to see you again, I love that dress!”

“Thanks, it’s from Dior’s 2021 spring line.”

“2021?? Darling that’s a year away how did you get your hands on this piece?”

“I didn’t most brands send me their upcoming lines to see if it meet my approval and will curve with current fashion trends.”

“You never fail to amaze me, y/n.”

As you were about to speak a waiter came by and dropped off some warm green tea for you. It was your signature drink, so it wasn’t a long shot, until you took a sip. It was made to your liking. It was seeped from the Da-Hong Pao brand with a teaspoon of Elvish honey. They even got the temperature exactly right, at 175 degrees. You suspected Lucas. He made everything perfect for you, it was nice, but you assumed he did that for all of his guests. You all continued to talk over dinner, creating conversations from cute dogs on Instagram to which way bridesmaids should present themselves at the wedding. After dinner you all transitioned to the grand ballroom, the main stage for the wedding. Your sister was nervously twiddled her fingers as you gazed at the decor. Lucas came in short after following you around taking notes, hanging on your every word.

“These flowers aren’t fresh replace all of them by tomorrow, make sure all of the silverware is perfectly straight next to the plate, turn the centerpieces by 35 degrees so the lights hit them better, the goody bag bags look tacky, replace them with Louis Vultton bags and put in Louis Vultton, Gucci, and Channel accessories, with each bag with different ones so they never match.”

“B-but, y/n, we can’t possibly purchase that in time!”

“Don’t worry sis, Lucas please charge any additional items that I’ve adjusted onto my card.”

“y/n please! You’re our guest!”

“Stop it. What else am I going to blow with all money? It’s worth it for your wedding.”

You handed Lucas your card as he wrote down your information. You continued on your purge to the point where your sister and fiancé got tired and went up to their room exhausted and they definitely needed some rest. So now it was just you and Lucas in the ballroom, alone.

“Miss, y/n, I know you want everything to be perfect for your sisters wedding, but I think you’re beating a dead horse at this point. “

“I am not!”

“Do you really think moving the chair in by one centimeter it really necessary?”

You sighed as you looked at your sandals.

“No, it’s not.”

“Why are you so punctual about this, miss y/n, if you don’t mind me asking.”

“It’s cause, this, was supposed to be my wedding. I was engaged two years ago, to a man who only wanted me for my money. I had all the wedding planning set until I was informed he was trying to sell my stocks and take everything from my bank account and runaway with some other famous B lister model. So once I heard my sister was getting married, I let her have my wedding plans. So now, I’m being overly punctual, since I know I would be like this on my wedding day.”

“Well, sometimes imperfect things allow the world to let it be perfect in ways you’ve never known. If this were my wedding, I wouldn’t care how lavish or perfect it was, as long as I was marrying someone I loved.”

Lucas’ words resonated into your mind, maybe you needed to let things be imperfect, even for your sister.

“So be it then, I’m done ‘perfecting’ for the night. Afterall, it’s not my wedding.”

As you walked out Lucas called out your name, and asking for your number. You hesitated asking him why and he said to discuss any issues that occur on the day of the wedding so he can contact you and discuss any certain changes. Right, he wasn’t trying to hit on you, why would he want to, he probably has a girlfriend or something right? You gave him your number and you walked into the elevator back to your room. You fantasized what it would be like to date him, going out on lavish dates, not worrying about who was going to pay for the check, and you felt that you would have a fun time with him. You took your shower and came out of the bathroom to see that you’re missing your roller from your skincare routine. You called Lucas up in your robe and wet hair to ask him for your cold Jade roller you used to smoothen and contour your face. He brought it up and gave it to you. But as he left, you grabbed his arm and asked him to roll your face for you, since your maids would do it for you. He chuckled as he submit to your request sitting down on your bed with you as you watched him gently roll your face. His eyes looked so delicate carefully not trying to put too much pressure on your face. You felt your heart beating faster every time you were around him, he was unpredictable to you and he was never intimidated by you either. You had never been able to open up to someone as easily as him.

When he was finished you noticed it started to thunderstorm, which worried you, since you had a secret fear of thunder and lightning. Lucas looked at you and gently caressed your face, making sure everything rolled correctly. But as he was about to get up a loud clash of the lightning struck and you squeaked as you fell into his arms holding on to him tight.

“P-please, d-don’t leave yet...”

Lucas looked at you in sympathy but got up leaving you in the dust. You were disappointed, knowing things like this would happen, even if you did like him. Who would even want to date- But Lucas returned dressed in his comfortable clothes which he received from the cleaning maids on your floor. He quickly came back to your shivering state hearing another clash of thunder. Lucas pulled you into a cuddling embrace in your bed. He also came back with some Airpods and played your favorite music to drown out the noise of the storm. You soon fell asleep on his chest, feeling warm and safe in his arms.

-pt. 2?? wedding day?

[akitokihojo]

Cruel Summer

A couple notes before you read:

Did I really just write a 33,805 word, 61 page fic and post it all in it’s entirety? Yes, I did.

Could I have broken it into parts? Probably. Should I have? No. I firmly believe this story is stronger in one. With that being said, take snack breaks if necessary. Don’t forget to stay hydrated.

This is a soulmate au.

While this fic has got it all, please heed the title. You're in for some fluff, smut, and a healthy dosage of angst. Because, would I really be me without my infamous flare for dramatics?

Alright, that’s all. See you on the flip side.

----------

She’d never been a fan of summer. Heat waves, sunburns, uncomfortable nights, sweat, bugs, and you could only strip so much before it was deemed inappropriate. If she had her way, Kagome would be sitting in front of the air conditioner of her apartment, marking off day five of August to continue the countdown to Autumn.

But, no.

Her best friend coerced her to take a trip - and by coerced, she literally emptied her underwear drawer and hid every pair of panties she owned while Kagome was in the shower, and the only way she’d give them back was if Kagome agreed to immediately go on this month-long outing to her family’s vacation home at the beach with a couple other friends. She’d been against it. She was about to start her final year of college, and she wanted to rest before the most stressful year of her life, but the promise of margaritas, the view of the ocean, a break from the norm, and the return of her undergarments was persuasive enough to get her to fold.

Three hours later, and here they were, the call of seagulls acting as their cliche welcome to, as Ayame deemed it, the summer of their dreams. 

“God dammit!” Sango bellowed, kicking her suitcase, and Kagome immediately beamed, hopping over the bed they’d agreed to share and running for cover. She’d been watching her best friend search her bag for a few solid minutes, waiting for her to blow her top. “Kagome, where the hell is my underwear!?”

“I told you, you were playing a dangerous game!” She laughed, using the island counter as a guard between them, Sango hot on her trail chasing after.

“Where are they!?”

“Don’t know!” She squealed, running to use their friend, Miroku, as a cover. “They’re definitely not in the cooler, though!”

“You -“ Sango stopped in her tracks, her jaw dropping wide. “You put -“ Her head swiftly turned to look at the cooler of drinks. “You put my - my panties in ice!?”

“Yeah, she did.” Miroku laughed, giving her a mock cheers with the beer he held in his hand.

“Kagome!” She guffawed, mostly of shock.

“You threatened to give a pair of mine to Hojo, even after I agreed to come! It was fair!” Kagome doubled over laughing, her best friend throwing the top of the cooler open and digging out the ziplock baggy of her underwear, sighing in relief when she realized they weren’t sopping wet in ice cold water.

“We’re even now, right?” She asked, hitting Kagome in the arm with her baggy.

“We’re even! We’re even!” Kagome laughed, holding her hands up defensively.

“Okay, then get ready!”

“Tonight, we party!” Their red-headed friend cheered, her cheeks already pink from the harsh rays of sun.

Kagome rolled her eyes humorously, dragging her feet back to their room to get dolled up for their planned night of barhopping - which usually meant Ayame was going to attempt to be ambitious, but they were all going to settle for the first place they landed at. She wasn’t the least bit surprised that they were itching to go out on the first day, and quite frankly, she’d grown to be excited, herself. It had been a long time since Kagome had let loose and allowed herself to just have fun.

She emptied the clothes from her suitcase, quickly following Sango’s lead and putting them away as neatly as possible before shifting through dresses to decide on one to wear for the night. It was between a dark blue one with straps across the back, or a glittery, black one that was low-cut in the front.

“Straps.” Sango chimed, waggling her brows.

“Oh my god, guys!” Ayame cried, running in their room with a teddy bear in her arms, squishing it tightly to her chest. “Look what Koga slipped into my bag! Isn’t he the cutest!?”

“Oh, no.” Sango groaned, looking at Kagome with the same, apprehensive grimace she wore. 

“What?”

“You guys are gonna have FaceTime sex, aren’t you?”

“And, miss the opportunity to pretend we’re in a long distance relationship?” Ayame scoffed.

“Ew!” Kagome wined.

“Are you in the furthest room!?” Sango asked, laughing. “You better be in the furthest room from us!”

“Listen, if you hear some moaning, mind ya business!” The red head teased, rolling her eyes with extra sass. 

“Awe, man! She’s in the room next to me!” Miroku complained, stomping through the common area noisily. Kagome and Sango both laughed loudly, showing no remorse for the only guy brave enough to go on a long trip with the three of them.

Sango kicked the door shut as Ayame left, stripping off her tank top and unbuttoning her shorts in preparation of changing into her chosen dress for the evening. A form-fitting, little cocktail that she usually saved for a third date with a guy - her third date dress, if you will. She smoothed it over her body, pulling it lower down her thighs and swiveling on the heels of her feet to get a full look at herself in the lengthy mirror on the wall. “Shit.” She hissed.

Kagome glanced over, her shirt already removed and hanging from her wrist, waiting for Sango to explain her vexation. 

“It’s been so long since I’ve been on a date, I forgot you can’t wear underwear with this dress.”

“Good thing they’re all frozen, anyway.” Kagome joked, throwing up a finger gun with a click of her tongue.

There was a loud, inarticulate groan from Miroku in the living room, just outside their wall, and Kagome stifled her laugh with her shirt when Sango turned bright red, not realizing how loud they’d spoken.

“In what world!? In what world would we ever happen!?” Sango shouted at him, giggling when all he did was groan loudly again.

“This world.” Kagome teased, keeping her voice hushed as she slipped her dress over her head.

“No, way.”

“Oh, please! You and I both know you’ve got the hots, and you’ve only been resisting because you’re mad at yourself for liking him.” Sango pursed her lips, fighting off the smile that would give her ruse away. “I’m willing to bet, by the end of this trip -“

“Don’t say it! You’ll jinx me!” Sango silenced her best friend, rummaging through her makeup bag in a feeble attempt to blow off the topic.

—

The music was loud, the dance floor was packed, and Ayame was lost in the crowd somewhere with Miroku. Kagome and Sango sat at a table they’d managed to snag, sipping their margaritas as a waitress walked over, smiling, placing two shots of tequila on the table. Sango laughed as Kagome shook her head, staring at her like she was crazy, but still, she took the little glass that Sango happily handed over to her, Sango holding her own up to say something to cheers to.

“Final year of college is about to begin! We deserve this time, okay! I don’t want to hear a single word about buying books for the next twenty-eight days, do you hear me!?”

“To not buying books!” Kagome laughed, gently tapping her glass to her best friend’s and taking the shot, scrunching her face, but always proud of herself for never needing a chaser while Sango took a bite of the strawberry on the rim of her margarita glass to drown the harsh taste of her alcohol.

“So,” A guy crouched next to their small table, bracing his forearm on the edge of the fake wood to balance himself. The two girls looked over to the man, a little surprised but giggling when they stole a little peek at each other. He was handsome. Ungodly handsome. His hair was short, tousled, and a light shade of silver that had Kagome’s initial attention, transferring to the dog ears atop his head that seemed to fit him better than she suspected normal, human ears would have. He wore a charming, crooked grin that fit him too well, and his golden eyes glowed richly, the lights from the bar, or club, or whatever Ayame had dragged them to, bouncing off of his irises and only shading them slightly. “I usually start off with something corny, like a pickup line, to flatter the both of you before I make any sort of ballsy moves, but I have a feeling that wouldn’t work on two ladies that look the way you do.”

Kagome couldn’t resist her light laugh, turning her head away from him so he wouldn’t receive the satisfaction of making her smile. One sentence in, and she could already tell the guy was good at smooth talking.

“Depends,” Sango started, leaning forward with a flirtatious grin. “Which one of us are you here for?”

The man pointed his thumb at Kagome, keeping his eyes on Sango all the while. Kagome smiled, rolling her eyes and propping her chin in her palm, her elbow supported on the surface of the table. 

“But, I know when two friends, such as yourselves, are with each other, neglecting one will only dock you points. Nor, would I ever want to make a pretty girl like you feel put out.”

She smirked, colored impressed. “Yeah, see, you’re not wrong. On any account. My friend, Kagome,” Sango emphasized her best friend’s name so the handsome man would be sure to remember it. “Hates pickup lines. Thinks they’re the worst. Me, on the other hand? Boy, you could spend all night buttering me up and calling me pretty, and I’ll be putty in your hands.”

“Noted.” He grinned, rightfully shifting his attention back to the girl he favored. She was giving him an expecting and amused expression, tapping a finger along her cheek, and cocking a brow as she waited for him to say something. “I’m just gonna cut to the chase. That good with you?”

“Go for it.” She said, and it almost seemed like a challenge.

“I’m gonna buy you two a drink.”

“No, thanks. We’ve already got one.” Kagome couldn’t help but giggle.

“Well, the cool thing about drinks is if you drink them, they empty, and then you can drink another.”

“And, you’re hoping for…?” It was an open-ended question, meant to put him on the spot.

“For you to drink them.” His crooked smirk kept, amber eyes never leaving her face, though she half expected if she looked away, they’d travel down to the bold amount of leg she was showing.

“But, you haven’t told me what you get out of it.”

“Ah,” He chuckled, sparing her best friend a side glance as she watched them go back and forth, entertainment painted in the red on her lips. “Would it be difficult to believe that I literally just want to spend my money on you?”

“Yes.”

“Thought so.” He chuckled again. Even through the loud music, the people chatting, the generally boisterous atmosphere, Kagome enjoyed the deep sound of his voice. “Look, I’m not gonna ask if I can sit with you, I’m not gonna ask if I can see you later, and I’m not gonna ask for your number. I wasn’t even going to ask for your name, though I do have to thank your pretty friend here for that bit of knowledge.”  He gave a smile in Sango’s direction, and she sat back in her chair, fanning her face with her hand, her brows raised in surprise. “I just want to buy you a drink.”

Kagome debated, giving him the moment to relish in her contemplation. He was good. He knew he was good. But, good didn’t do it for her. “I’d say yes, but I’d only be giving you false hope. You’re wasting your time. We’re not from here.” 

“See, you missed the part where I told you I was happy leaving empty-handed.” He leaned a little closer, still minding her personal space but wanting her to hear the rumble in his tone. “I’m not here to bother you, and I don’t expect anything out of this.”

“Strawberry margarita!” Sango said, slapping her hand against the table as if she’d sold something.

He laughed, nodding, then turned back to Kagome. She was recovering from the audacious glare she gave her friend, looking back at him, her brown eyes challenging him all over again. “I’m not from around here either.” He added.

“So, you’re further proving my point.”

“No. Not at all. You stated an irrelevant fact, so I returned the gesture.”

Kagome’s jaw dropped, surprised but laughing from the jab. 

“Look, my friends and I are about to leave. I didn’t want to shut my tab until I offered to get you two something.” He said, politely waving his finger to an approaching waitress. “I’ll leave without saying another word if you let me buy you a shot on top of it, because it was pretty impressive watching you take that shit straight.”

“Well, aren’t you persistent?” Kagome teased, licking her bottom lip before taking it between her teeth.

“Yes.” He smirked.

“You’re also unbelievable.”

“So I’ve heard.”

“Fine. Not another word.”

The man sealed his lips, the crooked smile that he began with taking over and taunting Kagome better than his voice did. As the waitress came over, he silently pointed to both margarita glasses and both empty shot glasses, confirming that he wanted her to bring doubles on his tab when she asked. And, he got up, gave her best friend a wink, and walked away.

“I think I had an orgasm.” Sango said as soon as he’d left, straight-faced, slightly perplexed as she stared at Kagome. 

Kagome laughed, thankful the lights in the place would thoroughly hide her blush. He was insanely charming, good looking, and holy hell, she’d never met someone that left looking so satisfied when he literally got nothing out of a conversation but her name. Maybe it was the alcohol she’d already consumed, but just that increased his attraction factor exponentially.

The waitress returned just minutes later, two blended margaritas and two shots of tequila sitting on her wet tray, and she kindly set the drinks before the girls. Kagome looked around after thanking her, seeing if the guy had already left or if he was sitting somewhere nearby. At the far end of the bar, she spotted him leaning against the edging, his light hair a dead giveaway, and his attention swung from the friends talking in front of him to her, as if he felt her eyes on him. She cocked her shot glass an inch higher in his direction, taking the swig and turning away when her nose crinkled.

God, his smile was going to be her undoing.

His friends began to head out the door, and he gave her another glance before heading out with them. She didn’t know what had come over her. It had to be the alcohol; she didn’t exactly have the highest tolerance level. Truthfully, she felt like she was giving him something he’d wanted, but she couldn’t help herself. Kagome watched him as he walked out, and as she’d hoped, he spared her one last glance. And, when he did, she waved him back over. He didn’t hesitate, separating from his peers and walking back towards the two girls, skillfully dodging people like he knew his way around the joint. When he leaned against the side of the table, he didn’t say anything, keeping his earlier promise not to talk.

“I didn’t get your name. I can’t properly thank you without your name.” She said, her tone unintentionally on the sultry side.

“It’s Inuyasha.” He said, leaning a little closer.

Just his name shouldn’t have had any sort of sensations flooding through her stomach, or warmth spreading over the surface of her skin, but it did. It made her drag in a breath and hold it, it made her eyes shy down to the dip in his shirt where she could see the very edges of his collarbones, the hollow of his throat, the even tone of his flesh, it made her force herself to remember she was supposed to actually say something now. Kagome smiled, looking down at the placement of his hands on the table, the tips of the fingers of one very close to hers, then she glanced back up to him, meeting his amber eyes.

“Thank you for the drinks, Inuyasha.”

“Don’t mention it.” He grinned, leaning even closer. His tone was husky, thick and deep and heavenly to Kagome’s ears as he spoke once more. “By the way, I lied. I just got exactly what I wanted.”

“And, what was that?” She asked, furrowing her brows speculatively.

“For you to be so interested that you wanted to know something about me. We both know you didn’t need my name to say thank you. You just wanted the excuse to ask. Because, I bet you’ll be thinking of me tonight almost as much as I’ll be thinking of you. Isn’t that right, Kagome?”

She didn’t answer. He didn’t give her a moment to. He tapped his hand against the table in a simple gesture of goodbye, turning on his heel and heading out. Kagome met Sango’s wide, brown eyes, the straw hanging loosely from her lips, blinking away the tension.

“Oh, yeah. Bad day to not wear underwear.” Sango remarked, sighing heatedly before she sucked down a huge gulp of her fresh margarita.

“What just happened?” Kagome murmured, and she was surprised her best friend had even heard her in order to reply.

“I think you just fell under a spell.”

“Holy shit.” She breathed, taken aback by the way his intense gaze had burned into her immediate memory, golden eyes blinking at her behind thick lashes, telling her a story where words weren’t necessary for description. She was enticed. Curious. And, he was completely right. There was no way he wouldn’t be stuck in her head tonight.

“Need some water?” Her friend laughed. “Some fresh air? You gonna be okay?”

Kagome buried her fiery blush behind her hands, laughing at how ridiculous she must have appeared and then grabbed her gifted beverage, taking little sips in the hopes that she could wash her embarrassment away.

—

Kagome awoke abruptly. It took a moment, a solid, deafeningly quiet moment, for her to hone in on her surroundings, where she was, what day it was, what time of day it was. It was bright, unlike the room she’d just dreamt she was in. The strong aroma of the ocean wafted through the vacation house, soft voices fluttering through the walls, helping to ground Kagome in present time.

“Hey, good morning.” Sango greeted, entering their bedroom just as Kagome peeled herself from the sheets, sitting up and brushing the messy bangs from her head. “I was getting a little worried about you.”

“Why?” Kagome asked.

“Well, it’s passed eleven. You’re a pretty early riser. I even tried waking you up for breakfast earlier, but you wouldn’t budge.”

“It’s passed eleven?” She quirked, reaching for her cell phone on the nightstand to double check the claim. 

“You feeling okay? You hardly drank last night, so you’re not hungover or anything, are you?” Sango asked, closing the door as she walked further in, fishing through the top drawer of the dresser.

“No, I feel fine. Must have just been tired.” Kagome brushed off, clearing her social media notifications. That dream always did this to her. She was held captive by the reoccurring illusion, and lately, as the dreams had begun coming to her more and more frequently, only loud noises could startle her out of them or else she’d be stuck riding it out until the very end. They left her dazed, confused, lost, and slightly lonely. The person behind the blurred veil was someone she was supposed to know, or was supposed to find, she knew this, but she couldn’t see his face and the only identifiable feature was the birthmark that stood out more vividly than any other part of the vision. A faded spot on his chest. She could hear him speaking, but his words were muffled, like she was submerged in a bubble, the walls of which so unforgivably thick that even his voice couldn’t be recognizable. 

A notable dream, the meaning well-known to anyone who’s had them. Who’s heard of them, even.

That was her soulmate.

There was no telling when you’d meet, or where in the world they even were. Additionally, there were never guarantees that you’d find each other. It was just fate’s way of letting you know you’ve got an inexplicable bond shared with a person somewhere, and here’s an unclear indicator of who they are - an insignificant marking of some sort or another somewhere on their body, never the same for two people. It was cruel and unusual to most. Kagome did her best to dismiss it. If it was actually meant to be, as some insisted, then they’d appear before you someday. Until then, she wasn’t going to put her life on hold if the guy she was interested in at any point in time didn’t share the same mark. It wasn’t a healthy way to live. Not with the billions of people inhabiting this planet. It just didn’t make sense to wait, and wait, and wait, and wait for a moment that may never come. So, she never spoke of the dreams or got remotely excited whenever they happened. She didn’t want to focus on the tan, uneven circle on the man’s left pectoral, and otherwise unblemished skin of his toned torso. And, she tried so hard not to check on the partners she’d had in the past. But, she always did. She always, always, grazed her fingers over their clear chest, hoping one day it’d appear.

And, that was the harsh reality of the dream. You knew your person was out there, and every time you laid with someone and realized it wasn’t them, the most difficult part was pushing through the heavy disappointment to enjoy what you’ve, instead, found.

“Good. I made pancakes this morning, and saved a couple for you. Eat and get ready to go. We’re hitting the little shops today before the beach.”

“You cooked?” Kagome teased, climbing off the king-sized mattress.

“Ha-ha! Yes, I cooked! I figured after a few days of being here, I should do my share in the kitchen.”

“And, pancakes are Miroku’s favorite?”

Sango narrowed a playful glare at her best friend, punching into her open hand to wordlessly say she was gonna hit Kagome if she didn’t stop, and Kagome laughed, not threatened in the least as she picked out a bikini from her own drawer.

“Can we stop for coffee?” Kagome asked, heading to the master bathroom they shared to change. “I think I’ll keel over if we don’t.”

“All that sleep and you’re still tired?”

“There’s such a thing as too much sleep.”

“Not to college students.”

“Coffee!” “Okay! Coffee!”

Truthfully, no one would ever have an objection for stopping for coffee. They were all caffeine addicts, but somehow, their first morning there, Miroku had brewed the worst pot in existence, making the four of them swear off of home brew for a while. He swore it was a malfunction with the machine, which very well could have been true, but the girls were perfectly fine blaming him for the thick, murky concoction all of them refused to even sip after watching his own face go green.

The little shop was busy, chiming with the soft rumble of conversation mixed with the light jazz music coming from the speakers. Her friends had ordered first and were all sitting off to the side at a small table, waiting for their drinks to be called. Kagome ordered her usual drink she’d get while out and about, opting for iced instead of hot, given the weather.

“Add a medium black coffee to that, please.” He stood close, but still minded a respectable distance where Kagome didn’t feel it was necessary to back herself away in her subtle surprise. In his extended hand that hovered near her face, he held out his card for the barista to charge, his amber eyes focused on the woman at the register, but the smile on his face was for her, and Kagome knew it. The barista happily complied, swiping his debit card and kindly handing it back. 

“You.”

“You.” Inuyasha echoed, notching his head to the side so she’d follow him out of line and towards the end counter where they’d receive their drinks.

“Is this gonna be a normal thing; you randomly appearing to buy me a drink?” She chuckled, slightly teasingly.

“If I have my way.” He replied, shrugging his brows. “Unless you have any opposition.”

“A simple hello will do, you know.”

“What if I’m not just trying to say hello?”

“What else could you possibly be trying to say by paying for my coffee?” Kagome asked skeptically, crossing her arms over her chest.

“A multitude of things, like ‘you should always have your drinks paid for,’ ‘you look gorgeous in that dress,’ even though I’m pretty sure you’ll dismiss it as a loose summer one you’ve had in your closet for years - but you deserve to know it’s something special on you - ‘I’m happy I stumbled into the same coffee shop you just so happened to be in,” is another, and ‘for some reason, ‘hello’ seemed like a drab way to greet you but I needed an excuse to talk to you, and a two dollar coffee was well worth it.’ But, mostly I was going for the surprise factor here. I like your face when you’re taken off guard. It’s cute. If it makes you happy, though, hello. It’s nice to see you again, Kagome.” Inuyasha grinned crookedly.

Her face had heated considerably, and she hoped her skin was still rosy from their recent walk in the sun so that her flush was concealed beneath the one that hadn’t been caused by him. Kagome wasn’t the type that fell for flattery and flirtatious quips. For some reason, in this case, she honestly couldn’t tell if Inuyasha was being genuine or if he was just a professional sweet-talker. Either way, she surprisingly liked it. A lot.

It was crazy that she was entertaining any thoughts of flirting with a guy right now considering the circumstances. She was on vacation, she lived hours away in a shared apartment at her university, and this guy, this incredibly attractive guy, was a stranger. It wasn’t the safest scenario, but god, why did she want it so bad? 

It was as if an unnatural force was creating this aura around him, causing him to stand out warmly in a crowd of people. No one’s smile affected her like his did. No one’s. She could easily dismiss it as the summer heat playing with her head, but she wondered, if he kept showing up out of the blue, how much more would she have to make up an excuse for? It was unreal how she kept thinking that the longer they stood by each other, the tighter a knot began to form between them. Absolutely unreal. Illogical. She needed coffee to think straight, because clearly she wasn’t doing so well without. 

Because of this, because of the two interactions they’d had so far, she already felt like the moment he disappeared through those coffee shop doors, she’d begin to constantly search her surroundings to hope she’d spot his short, silver hair. She’d begin to hope he’d pop up and say hi, he’d grin at her, he’d say her name. 

Yikes, when Sango forced her to come out here, not a single part of her had prepared to have a Grease moment. Yet, here she was, knowing she should probably thank him and walk away, but not a single part of her body, heart, or brain intended on doing so. Suddenly, she felt adventurous. She wasn’t so weary about the obvious lack of rationality behind something so silly or potentially reckless. If he was into it, why couldn’t she be?

“That’s a lot to say with a coffee.” Kagome said, softly nibbling her bottom lip.

“Imagine what I could say with an entire meal.”

Yeah. There was no use even hoping her blush was hidden now. She had to look away at the suggestion, smiling.

“So, I recognize your friend over there, but who’s the guy next to her giving me a dirty look?” Inuyasha asked, inching his chin up in gesture of their direction. Kagome turned around, noticing her three current housemates watching she and Inuyasha intently, Sango and Ayame looking rather pleased.

“Oh, that’s Miroku. You should be careful, he’s very protective of us girls.”

“Ah. Is he your…?”

“Ew, oh god no. He’s into Sango.” Kagome grimaced sourly. 

“And, which one is Sango?” She couldn’t help but notice his expression seemed to relax a smidge.

“The one you met.” Kagome said, realizing he’d never gotten her name at the bar. “Here, come meet the others.” She turned on her heel, guiding the hanyou to her small table of friends. Kagome gestured to the red head on the left, the girl enthusiastically bouncing up to her feet to shake Inuyasha’s hand. “This is Ayame. That’s Miroku. And, you remember Sango.”

“That’s right. How’s it going, beautiful?” Inuyasha smiled, wanting to offer his hand in a polite shake but unable to as Ayame actively refused to let it go, still shaking as if her own greeting wasn’t yet over.

“Hey, choose a girl and stick with her, dude.” Miroku spread his hands in a what the fuck manner, giving a small gesture between Kagome and Sango.

“Sorry.” Inuyasha pinched his lips together, trying not to chuckle, especially as Sango’s face twisted in displeasure toward the man beside her.

Kagome locked eyes with her best friend, hoping she’d miraculously learned to read her mind by now. She even subtly flickered her eyes in Inuyasha’s direction to indirectly communicate, adding a tiny nod for assurance. Sango, understanding, gave an eager approval, and as Miroku got up to get the drinks that had been called for the girls, Kagome took her opportunity to ask without their “protectors” disdain glaring Inuyasha down.

“So, what are you doing tonight?” She started. His golden stare landed on her, completely and charmingly unbothered by the fact that her friend was still holding his hand.

“What should I be doing tonight?” Inuyasha countered.

“Well, we’re having a little party - if you can even call it that. There’s fireworks tonight, and Sango’s vacation home has a beachside view, so we don’t even have to go anywhere to see the show. It’s just gonna be the few of us, music, drinks, and we’ve got a jacuzzi. Oh, and Ayame’s boyfriend is coming into town to join in because apparently they have separation issues.” Kagome said, slapping the red head’s hand so she’d finally let him go. Her expression fell from adoring to bummed out, dropping her hand and plopping back down to her seat as she mumbled a “dammit” beneath her breath. “You’re more than welcome to come if you’d like.”

“I’d love to. What should I bring?”

“Just your pretty-little-self.” Sango chimed, pulling a receipt out of the chest pocket of her overall shorts to write on the back of, and fishing her pen out of her purse. “Here’s our address.”

Kagome bent over the table, taking the pen from Sango as she finished and quickly scribbled her phone number beneath. She folded up the receipt, standing tall and sliding it into the front pocket of his gray, button up shirt. “In case you get lost.”

Inuyasha smiled, his attention being stolen for a millisecond as his and Kagome’s drinks were called and Miroku rejoined the table with his, Ayame’s, and Sango’s. “What time?”

“Six or seven.”

“Or, whenever you’d like, let’s be real.” Ayame added, pursing her lips before taking her straw into her mouth to silence herself with a large gulp of coffee.

“I’ll see you later.” Inuyasha said to Kagome’s friends, chuckling. He gave Kagome a notch of his head as he headed back to the counter, and she followed, gratefully taking her drink as he handed it to her. “See, now I’m really glad I stumbled into the same coffee shop as you.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Tell me why I wouldn’t be after getting to see you again.”

Kagome smiled shyly, trying not to bite her lip. “Thank you for the drink. Again.”

“Anytime. I’ve gotta get going, gorgeous. I’ll let you know when I’m on my way.” He gave her the smallest, humblest smile, taking his own drink from the counter and heading out the door. 

And, so her madness began.

“Is that the guy you met at the bar?” Miroku asked as she rejoined the group.

“Yeah, that’s him. Inuyasha.” She confirmed, taking a deep breath as she tried to regain her bearings. 

“And, you invited him over?”

“You bet.” Sango answered.

“Are you stupid?” He questioned, crossing his arms as they all rose to leave and giving Kagome a stare of disapproval. “Do you know anything about him besides his first name?”

“Isn’t this how you get to know people?” She countered.

“Yeah, in public settings. You don’t give people your address. The guy probably just wants to get into your pants, Kagome.”

“I’d let him.” Sango plainly agreed.

“Oh, yeah, me too.” Ayame nodded. 

“I promise, I’ll learn his favorite color before I let him hump me. Happy?” She joked, sipping her iced coffee as they walked out.

“This. This is why I didn’t let you guys come alone.” He griped, rolling his eyes at how the girls completely disregarded him.

“You’re one to talk! You’re the guy who sleeps with any girl who will spread her legs. If anything, it’s you who we shouldn’t trust here.” Sango laughed, swerving around Kagome to hide from him as he threatened to flick her.

“Okay, but hear me out,” Ayame started, walking backward down the street as they headed to their first shop. "This is literally the safest environment for Kagome to get to know the guy in! We’re all gonna be there, watching -“

“Ogling.” Sango added.

“- and if anything bad goes down, you’ll have Koga here to help kick his ass.”

“God, now I feel like you guys are chaperoning me on a date.” Kagome grimace.

“It’s not a date.” Miroku rebutted.

“It’s kind of a date.” Sango said.

“No, it’s not a date!” Kagome agreed. “It’s definitely not a date. He’s just coming over to hang out. Therefore, don’t hover.” She directed that comment toward Miroku, narrowing her stare in warning. He rolled his eyes in return, the tiniest shakes of his head only noticeable when the ends of his shaggy hair wiggled back and forth, and she quickly pinched the back of his arm, causing him to jump away from her.

—

The sun was setting, and their little vacation spot was lively. The television was on with some sport or another playing, but the sound was muted - and would have been drowned out by the music and everyone talking, anyway. Even more so as a Taylor Swift song began and the three girls started dancing as dramatically as their favorite pop star, making the two guys groan from their spot on the couch, heads rolling back as they slumped further. Naturally, they weren’t a fan and always begged the girls to skip, but that only prodded them to annoy them further by turning it up louder and ignoring their complaining. In all fairness, it was a random playlist on a music streaming site. And, as Sango had said, they didn’t choose the music, the music chose them.

“I will give you each five dollars to at least turn it down.” Koga pleaded, fishing his wallet out of his pocket.

“Deal!” The three girls concurrently beamed, all of which holding their hands out to accept their bribe.

Ayame twisted the volume nob down a tad, the music now at a tolerable level, though Miroku still looked as miserable as ever. Kagome resumed her place in the kitchen, checking that the water was boiling before dumping two boxes of macaroni and cheese noodles into the pot, and Sango hopped in behind her to finish throwing the ingredients into the blender that she’d momentarily interrupted herself to dance for, popped on the lid, and pressed the button to run it. Just as she turned it off, they heard the doorbell ring, and Kagome looked over, shocked. She was still in the dress from earlier, but she was currently wearing it indecently. Much like with how Sango had unlatched her overalls and allowed the top portion to hang freely down her body, trusting the shorts to stick snuggly to her hips, Kagome had pulled the halter top strap of her dress over her neck to hang loose, the skirt portion bunched enough to not fall from her hips and her chest only covered with her bathing suit top. She hadn’t realized he’d get here so quickly after texting he was on his way.

“Not yet, not yet, not yet!” She called, sprinting from the kitchen, across the living room, and to the master bedroom she shared with Sango, slamming the door and trusting one of the others to let Inuyasha in.

Sango stifled her laugh, the noise coming out as more of a snort as she headed toward the front and opened the door. “Hi! Welcome to my parents’ humble abode!” She greeted, immediately allowing him entry. 

“Thanks.” Inuyasha grinned, walking in and presenting a bottle of Patron. “I know you told me not to bring anything, but I figured you guys might be low on the good stuff by now. And, if not, you’ve got extra.”

“Boy, you are an angel! We’ve been stuck using the cheap rum Koga brought because no one wants to go to the store!” Sango playfully directed her loud jab toward the living room where the guys were congregated, listening to the beautiful sound of their droned and synchronized groans again. “Come on in, Kagome will be right out. She had to take a phone call.”

Inuyasha followed the girl inside, taking note of the familiar red head sitting on the lap of, what was probably safe to assume was, her boyfriend. The guy who’d stared him down earlier sat on the far side of the couch from them, a beer in his right hand that was mostly empty, and he notched his chin up toward him in an informal hello. Honestly, Inuyasha understood his dissent completely; he’d be like that with any of his female friends, too. Probably even harsher; he wasn’t exactly known for being kind to anyone he didn’t necessarily like. It was good that Kagome had people looking out for her, but he meant no harm. She was interesting, she was stunning, he could already tell she was sassy, which he fucking loved in a woman, and he couldn’t help but want to see what, exactly, it was about her that called to him in the first place. And, who didn’t seek a little thrill when they were in an unfamiliar place for a limited amount of time? 

It was a really lax environment, and although it was awkward as the newcomer and stranger, he felt it wouldn’t take long to ease in, especially when Kagome would emerge. It was like his presence didn’t dampen anything or cause anyone to stiffen, the friend group continuing to bicker lightly as if that was the normal way they communicated. Which, very well could have been true.

Ayame stood to greet him, and Miroku immediately started laughing boisterously, swinging her attention back to him as she swiveled on her heel to see what his deal was.

“Ayame, how? We were on the beach for, like, an hour! How did you get a sunburn that bad!?” Miroku pointed, bringing Ayame to visibly pout, knowing he was referencing the redness of her back that showed through the rear of her cropped tank top. Even her boyfriend leaned to see the evidence, covering his mouth with his fist to prevent himself from laughing and embarrassing her. “You’re a demon, I thought shit like this never happened.”

“Yes, I am a demon, but I’m also -“ Ayame lifted her foot to sit on top of the coffee table before the couch, presenting her leg that was hardly covered by the pair of shorts she donned. Her voice held a mocking tone, and she cocked her head with attitude. “Pale.”

“It’ll fade by tomorrow.” Koga assured.

“Does it hurt?” Miroku asked.

“I don’t know, touch me and see.” She dared.

“Oh, do it! I want to see what happens.” Kagome encouraged, leaning her shoulder on the frame of the bedroom door she’d finally appeared from. She was now donned in jeans - her favorite jeans that worked wonders for her butt - and a loose top that hung off her shoulders; nothing too dressy that gave away that she was trying to impress, still looking casual while flattering her figure in a modest way. She turned her attention to Inuyasha who was already looking at her, amber eyes glowing with the hues of the sunset that shined through the glass that made up the back wall of the house.

“Hi, you.” She greeted, sauntering over to him.

“Hi.” He grinned.

“He brought tequila!” Sango announced, framing the bottle with her hands from the side of the island counter, next to the blender.

“Oh, you didn’t have to do that! Thank you so much!” Kagome smiled elatedly, gently grabbing his hand to lead him into the kitchen so he’d stick by her. She gave the macaroni noodles a stir so they wouldn’t stick, before heading to the fridge, leaving him by the stove. “Water, beer, or something blended?”

“Beer.” He said, accepting the bottle appreciatively after she popped the top for him.

Sango’s phone started ringing, and she snagged it, looking at the unknown number and then giving an apprehensive yet excited expression to Kagome before bolting from the room and locking herself in the bedroom. Stealing a peek, Kagome peered over the island, watching Miroku’s lips set disappointedly, his indigo eyes on the closed door before he hid it all behind the beer bottle he took a swig from.

“What’s wrong with him?” Inuyasha whispered, leaning closely next to her.

“He always assumes when she does that she’s on the phone with a guy. Really, she’s been waiting to hear back from a specific company for an internship. She’s gotten other offers, but she’s weighing her options first, and I don’t know how many times I have to explain that to him.” She replied, matching his low tone.

“Aren’t they together?”

“No, he wishes.” She shook her head, ducking down into the cupboards to fish out the colander. As she stood straight and set it up in the sink to strain her noodles, Koga appeared on the outer side of the island counter.

“Hey.” He said to Inuyasha.

“Hey.” Ayame smoothly curved over, propping her forearms on the counter, her voice taking a flirtatious hint.

“Hey!” Koga pushed her face away, causing the girl to stumble backward and giggle. He sighed, rolling his blue eyes before glancing back at the newcomer. “Nice to meet you. Apparently, you’re a god of some sort?”

“What?” Inuyasha blinked, chuckling out of surprise.

“Oh my god,” Kagome grieved, humiliated by every single one of her friends’ lack of tact. “Inuyasha, this is Koga. Koga, Inuyasha.”

They shook hands, and Koga once more playfully pushed his girlfriend away, even though she was only reaching to pour the drinks from the blender. Miroku joined them then, an even stare given to the hanyou as he propped his upper body on the counter, ignoring the abundance of steam that rose as Kagome poured the boiling pot of noodles into the colander.

“You a rapist?” Miroku carelessly asked.

“Miroku!” Kagome reacted, shocked.

“No.” Inuyasha answered, meeting her protective friend’s eyes as honestly as possible.

“A serial killer?”

“No.”

“You got a wife?”

“No.”

“Kids?”

“No.”

“A girlfriend?”

“No.”

“You think Kagome’s cute?”

“Very.”

“How many questions can I ask until you get annoyed?”

“Probably three more.”

“Alright, he’s chill.” Miroku held out his fist to bump with Inuyasha’s, then finished off the beer he had in his hand before making his way around to the fridge to grab another. “So, I’ve gotta ask, man. What’s your secret?”

“What do you mean?” Inuyasha asked in return, flinching out of the way as Kagome chucked a Hawaiian roll at Miroku.

“Hey, I was done!” He defended, holding his wounded side before picking up the small roll of bread from the floor and carelessly taking a bite. “Watch out for her, she’s got a hell of an arm. Anyway, I mean what’s your trick? What’s the line you use to get a girl interested in you so quickly?”

Kagome blushed furiously, ducking her face as she dumped the strained noodles back into the pot.

“I don’t have a line.” Inuyasha smirked, trying to hide his amusement.

“Bull.” Koga attested from the side. “Even I had to use a line to get this chick.”

“Ew, don’t say it like that!” Ayame smacked his arm, pushing Miroku aside from the island counter so she could pour the blended drinks into three cups, meant for the girls who didn’t even like beer.

“I really don’t have a line.”

“Kagome?” Miroku called, wanting her side of it.

“He didn’t use a line on me. In fact, he said he could have but he didn’t want to.”

Miroku and Koga both looked at each other, dumbstruck, their jaws dropping dramatically as Inuyasha took a huge swig of his beer to stifle his laugh.

“That’s the line, you idiot!” They both shouted. “Oh my god!”

“It’s not a line, I swear!” Inuyasha said to her. “It’s an anti-line!”

“An anti-line is still a line, and holy fuck, that’s genius!” Miroku applauded, ignoring Kagome’s worsening blush as she stirred the butter into the noodles.

“You guys are making me look really bad.” Inuyasha grumbled.

“You look like a hero to us.” Koga raised his beer in praise.

“I hate you all.” Kagome stated simply, pursing her lips and going back to the food.

“Drink up, Kagome, you’ll get over it in a second.” Ayame slid a glass for Kagome to catch, reaching far over the bar and the guys to clink her cup to Kagome’s before backing up to tuck herself into her boyfriend’s arms.

“Tell us more. Enlighten us with your ways.” Miroku urged with a wave of his hand, as if beckoning him forward.

Inuyasha chuckled, slightly embarrassed. “In case you guys haven’t noticed, I don’t technically have the girl yet. And, my chances are lessening the more we talk about it. If you’re asking for specific advice for yourself, though…” He trailed off his sentence, glancing over to Kagome to see if she was okay with it.

She swallowed the large sip of the blended drink she had sitting in her mouth, her nose wrinkling at the over abundance of alcohol Sango had mixed in. “Oh, go for it. Miroku needs all the help he can get.”

“Um, rude.” Her friend said, laughing. “I’m not that bad.”

“Right.” She stated sarcastically. “And, Sango is talking to who?”

“Alright, yeah, help me.” He grimaced, swiftly changing his mind, turning back to Inuyasha.

“Does she know you want her?” Inuyasha asked.

“Oh, yeah!” Everyone boasted, a little too earnestly.

“Ah, so you come off too strong.”

“I wouldn’t say too strong. I mean, I’d sooner say you came off too strong on Kagome in order to get her to invite you over after only meeting two times.”

“Actually, I let her call the shots. Women don’t like having shit shoved in their face. Nobody likes that. I was a bit persistent in buying her a drink at the bar, sure, but I never forced her. The option was always hers. If she gave me an adamant no, then I would have left her alone.”

“It’s true.” Kagome nodded. “He was mild at best.”

“I’m going to assume you’ve known Sango for a while and that you’ve wanted her for a while. She knows. So, don’t repeat yourself. What you need to focus on is making her want what you have to offer in return. First way to do that is to intrigue her. Don’t put it all on the table at once, it’s overwhelming. Subtly do something genuine or sweet, then give her space. Walk away. Leave her curious for more. And, most importantly, do not touch her unless she invites you to. It’s the quickest way to deter her.”

“You mean to tell me you haven’t once touched Kagome?” Miroku asked skeptically, cocking a brow as he took a sip of his cold beer.

Inuyasha shook his head with a prideful, little smirk.

“Oh my god.” Kagome murmured, her brows furrowing in realization. “He hasn’t; I touched him.”

“You grade A slut.” Koga joked, chuckling. 

“Were you, like, a woman in a past life? How do you know what we like so well?” Ayame inquired.

“I was raised by a single mom. And, I listen.” He chuckled.

“That’s hot.” She nodded, sipping her drink.

“What are we talking about?” Sango asked, emerging from the bedroom. 

“Just learning a little about Kagome’s new friend here.” Ayame covered. “He’s very respectful of women.”

Sango nodded approvingly, even a little impressed, holding up the okay sign with her fingers as she rejoined the group. 

Kagome began to mix the little packages of cheese into the macaroni, noticing Inuyasha’s nonchalant nod toward Miroku to try something out, and Kagome had to bite her lip to remain appearing as nonchalant as possible. As Sango approached the counter, Miroku scooted her awaiting beverage toward her, sparing her a small glance. She gave him the smallest of smiles, more in thanks for handing her the glass and shifted her attention to Kagome and the almost-done food.

Miroku stood from the island, walked over to the fridge and pulled out a bottle of water, sauntering back her way and gently placing it before her.

“You’re looking a little flushed from the sun. Drink some water before the alcohol, okay? I don’t want you dehydrating.”

And, then he walked away, taking his beer and sitting on the couch to watch the muted sports program.

Sango’s brown eyes stayed glued to his back as he walked, then flashed to the water bottle in front of her, then back to him in the most inconspicuous of manners before she tapped her fingernail along the countertop. She opened the bottle of water and took a small sip while she pretended to listen to the small talk between Koga and Ayame for a meager moment until it seemed suitable to get up, following Miroku over to the couch and sitting a foot or two away.

Both Kagome and Ayame had to cover their mouths to prevent themselves from laughing, Ayame tucking her face into Koga’s chest to play it off. Kagome looked at Inuyasha who was only grinning crookedly at her, shrugging his brows.

“I’m not sure if I should actually be impressed that you’re so good with women.” Kagome mentioned, reaching up to grab six bowls from the cupboard.

“Don’t think of it that way.” He said, helping her. “I meant what I said back at the bar. I expected nothing then, and I expect nothing now. I didn’t buy you a drink and bank on it helping me to score or anything like that. I just wanted to buy you a drink.”

“And, make me want to know something about you.” She giggled.

“Where’s the harm in that?”

There was none. Kagome could do nothing in response but grab a bowl and scoop a serving into it, offering it to him with a smile. 

Night had set in and Koga, Sango, and Ayame made home in the jacuzzi - despite her sunburn and the discomfort she initially hissed from upon entering - waiting for the fireworks to begin. Miroku leaned on the fence railing that separated the back patio from their private pathway to the beach, and Kagome, having just shrugged on a sweater, pulled Inuyasha to the side.

“Want to go for a walk?” She whispered, trying to keep the others out of her business, because she just knew some of them would hoot and howl inappropriately. 

“Absolutely.” He grinned, quietly following her out the side gate and down the path to the sand.

They kicked off their shoes as they reached the beach, peacefully walking side-by-side close to where the waves rode up, the night tide following the pull of the moon.

“What’s your favorite color?” Kagome innocently asked.

“Black, I guess.” He answered with a one-sided shrug.

“That’s a shade.”

He laughed lightly. “Red, then. No, blue. Blue’s better.”

“Blue is better.” She agreed, nodding.

“Is that yours?”

“Mhm. How old are you?”

“Twenty-five.”

“Ah. I’m twenty-two.”

“Is this the question game?” Inuyasha chuckled, his smile growing larger as she nodded again, grinning sheepishly. “Got it. Carry on.”

“Are you out here on vacation, too?”

“Nah, work. I’m stuck here for a couple months to monitor the transition of one of the new firms we acquired.” He answered, tugging her shirt his way to pull her out of the path of a wave that rode up higher than expected.

“That makes sense; you were a little dressed up this morning.”

“Eh. I’m supposed to do more than that to set an example, but I fucking hate putting on a suit. Since my brother’s not here to micromanage me while I micromanage others, I can get away with dressing down a bit.”

“So, you work with your brother?” She glanced at him, watching the small grimace he gave while facing forward.

“I work for my brother.” He politely corrected. “For now, at least. Still relatively new to the field. How long are you here for?”

“About three and a half more weeks.”

Inuyasha stopped walking, turning to her. The moonlight shined on her dark, wavy hair, emphasizing the mysterious, blue shading no one would ever be able to notice in the sun. The wind tousled her long locks, blowing strands she’d already tucked behind her ear around her jaw and the front of her neck. She was positively beautiful, radiant in this element, and he wondered if she knew. He wondered, if he told her, would she believe him? Kagome was something dangerous, her thick lashes hiding the brown shade of her eyes, her plush lips curved upward in curiosity, and he didn’t even bother to further question what had been coming over him since the moment he spotted her sitting at a table with her best friend. 

“Would it be okay if I wanted to see you again?” The hanyou asked, his voice taking on a husky note.

“You still want to see me?” She inquired honestly.

“Why the hell wouldn’t I?”

“Because, we have a time limit.”

“Maybe.” He bobbed his head to the side, agreeing. “But, personally, I’d like to use that time wisely. There’s something about you that has my undivided attention.”

“You don’t think it’s crazy?” Kagome asked, her tone dwindling slightly as her eyes dropped to his lips.

“I do, actually. It’s pretty crazy. But, is crazy always bad?”

Why was it, the first answer that popped into her mind was, not when it comes to you? Why was it, her inhale was shaky and tentative, and her chest filled with fluttering warmth instead of the nippy, ocean air? Why? Why was she so pulled to him, entranced by his eyes, willing to trust this man so easily after such an insignificant amount of time together? Maybe she was growing naive, because she wasn’t drunk nor was it hot anymore. Through it all, despite the lack of an answer to the riddle dancing in her mind, she shook her head in reply to him.

“If you say no, I’ll understand completely. You know that, right?” Inuyasha continued. 

And, for some reason, she did.

“But, if there’s a chance that you’re interested, I’d love to take you out one of these nights. Anywhere you want. That, or, if you’re feeling gutsy, you can come to my place and I’ll cook you dinner.”

“You can cook?” She asked, stepping in closer.

“Hell yeah, I can cook.” He smiled.

“I think I’m feeling gutsy.” Kagome said after a moment of consideration.

“Good. Friday night?”

“Friday night.” Her grin gleamed brightly, her skin glowing with the radiant colors that flashed overhead from the firework show beginning.

As she turned to face the booming explosions, her smile only seemed to grow larger, happier, delighted, and Inuyasha felt a hard and thunderous thump in his chest that threatened to bring him groveling to his knees. It could have been the fireworks, but he knew it was something else. Something inexplicable. Which was insane for him, because he wasn’t this type of guy. He didn’t do this shit. He didn’t believe in love at first sight, and he didn’t get wobbly on his feet just from seeing a beautiful woman. But, when he first spotted her, heard her laugh over the music and chatter, he was captivated, and for something mystical and powerful like that to take over him, he didn’t really want to put energy behind discovering the science of it. His energy belonged to figuring out who this girl was as quickly as he possibly could so he could evaluate just what he’d be missing when she left.

—

Despite the rampant butterflies in her stomach, Kagome managed to make it to her front door without crumbling. She took a moment to smooth her short, summer dress over her hips, hoping the light cardigan she donned over it made it look suitable for a first date. She’d packed for a vacation, not for wooing men, so she’d been stressing over what to wear for the last hour and a half. A good portion of her clothes smelled like sunblock already, the few skirts and dresses she packed for nights out with her friends were a little too skimpy for comfort, and the others were too casual for the evening. The happy medium was this white, flowy dress that dipped a little low in the front. The pink cardigan tied it together, and she spritzed a little body spray over herself to try and mask the scent of sunscreen.

Opening the door, she found Inuyasha standing on the other side, a charming grin appearing when their eyes met. He was donned in a black button up with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, the top couple of buttons sitting open and the hem remaining untucked from his jeans.

“Ready?” He asked, holding his hand out, and she quickly double checked that she had a spare key to the place, her wallet, and her cell phone in her purse before nodding eagerly and taking his hand.

“You look beautiful.” He mentioned as he opened the car door for her, and it took all of Kagome’s willpower not to stand there in utter bafflement at his gentleman-like behavior. He wasn’t a stranger to compliments, she was aware of that by now, but coming to the front door to get her instead of texting that he’d arrived? Opening the car door for her? Was he also the type of guy who asked a woman how her day was and stuck around for the detail? Because, if he was, she was damn near ready to offer him her body on the spot.

“Thank you.” Kagome smiled, blinking away her admiration as she smoothed her dress to cover her butt in the leather seat. When her legs were out of the way, Inuyasha shut the door for her, making his way around the front and into the driver’s side.

“Before we go anywhere,” He began, starting the engine of the vehicle. “You should share your location with your friends. That way they know where you are and don’t worry too much.”

There was no biting back the shock in her expression as her lips parted and her jaw hung slightly agape. Holy shit. She was fucking done for. 

Recovering as he glanced over at her, Kagome pulled her phone from her purse, opening her text messages with Sango. “My location’s already on, actually.” She said, showing him the proof.

“Good. Keep it that way.” He smiled, shifting the stick into gear as he drove off down the neighborhood.

Kagome wasn’t sure she’d ever been this attracted to a person. It was one thing to look the way he did, which was unfair on its own, but it was another to have a good personality to back it up. And, he could cook. Inuyasha was a living, breathing triple threat. Suddenly, she felt like anything she could say to spark conversation was stupid, or would come out stupid because there was no way she wouldn’t stammer thanks to how nervous she now was. All she could do was try to appear normal while literally chewing on her bottom lip, and hope he didn’t catch onto her current disposition.

“You know how to drive stick?” He spoke, peeking over at her after adjusting the gear shift.

Timidly, Kagome shook her head in answer. “I never learned.”

Inuyasha shifted it, then quickly reached for her hand, placing it on top of the stick.

“Wait, no, I don’t -“

“I got you.” He promised, resting his hand on top of hers and moving the stick to switch gears. He kept his palm there, doing all the necessary work but letting her feel the effects of it, the vibration, the heat from his hand, involvement. It was such a small act, but she smiled gleefully and he was struck by the comforting sound of her giggle.

“My turn for the question game.” He said, giving a little squeeze to her hand. He saw her look at him expectantly in his peripherals, keeping his eyes on the road. “What do you do for work?”

“I’m a full-time student in college. I’m going into my last year as soon as we get back, with an internship to balance out to boot.” Kagome answered, still a little nervous for the months ahead of her.

“Are you fucking kidding me? That’s awesome! You’re so close!” His tone, his expression, the way his grip tightened on her hand for a moment before he shifted gears again all seemed so genuine. He didn’t even know her, and his excitement for her was real. “I remember having to do that shit. Didn’t have time for anything outside of it.”

“Yeah, pretty much. And, I thought this last year was hectic. I know I’m in for a shock this coming year for sure. No extra time for anything fun; which is why it only took a little leg twisting to get me to agree to come out here.”

“I’m surprised it took any at all.” He remarked, chuckling.

“Keeping up with Ayame and Sango, and sometimes even Miroku, can be exhausting. I was planning on kicking back and binge watching Netflix series after Netflix series this summer, but then Sango said the magic words, so here I am.”

“Lucky me.” He said sincerely. “What were the magic words?”

“‘I’ll give you your underwear back.’”

Inuyasha blinked at her, safe to remove his sights from the road at the stop light they sat at. 

“She took them all. Hid them from me. Threatened to even give some away.”

“Ah, the leg-twister. Remind me to thank her later.” He laughed, getting back up to speed quickly once the light turned green. “Alright, what’s your favorite food?”

“Bread.” Kagome said, grinning.

“Bread?”

“Bread.”

“What’s your favorite food that’s not a carb?”

“Nonexistent.” Kagome finally answered, having to have thought it through.

“You’re that easy? I could just give you a loaf of garlic bread and you’d be happy?” Kagome groaned in ecstasy at the thought, slumping back into her seat, and Inuyasha laughed again. “So, yes.”

They pulled up to the curb, and the hanyou finally released her hand, shutting off the engine and unlatching his seatbelt. He’d noticed her brows furrow inquisitively while looking at the cottage-like home he currently resided in, but instead of responding to it, he chuckled and exited his car, meeting Kagome on her side as she’d just opened her door to get out.

“I thought you were only here for a small amount of time.” She said, stepping out of the way so he could shut the door and lock it.

“Yeah, two months. Less than that now, but still.” He replied, leading her through the small gate and up the two porch steps to the front door.

“Did you Airbnb this place?”

“Kind of. Something like that, I guess.” Inuyasha answered mindlessly, unlocking the door and letting her enter first. “Were you expecting a hotel room?”

“Not gonna lie, that’s exactly what I expected.” Kagome remarked, surprise etched into the expression of her face. 

“And, how am I supposed to even try to impress you in a hotel, Kagome?” He asked, shutting and locking the bolt. He guided her through the little entrance area, welcoming her into the comfortable and furnished living room, then to the open kitchen area.

“Impress me? After all this, you’re still trying to impress me?”

“What do you mean? I haven’t even done anything yet.”

“That’s a joke, right?” He didn’t answer, instead leaning forward on the opposite side of the counter, cocking a brow. “Oh my god, you’re not joking?”

“I literally have no clue what you’re talking about. All I did was pick you up, you dork. I can’t cook in a hotel room. In fact, I’m convinced you’d only be uncomfortable there.”

“So, did you get this place specifically so you could impress ladies?” She countered playfully, leaning toward him along the counter just as he was.

“My brother’s assistant booked it, so no.” Inuyasha smirked. “I would just never dream of trying to bring a girl back to a shoddy hotel. Especially, a girl like you.”

“A girl like me, huh? And, what’s that supposed to mean?”

“Red or white?” He softly asked as he turned around and pulled two bottles of wine from the fridge, not disregarding her in the least.

“White, please.” Kagome answered happily.

“It means, you’re someone worth putting effort into.” Inuyasha answered, uncorking the bottle and pouring her wine into a glass he’d pulled from the cupboard. “You’re someone a guy should have to sweat to try and impress.”

“Why should I believe these aren’t just lines you’re serving?” Again, her tone was playful, her bottom lip trapped between her teeth as she smiled.

“Technically, they are.” He said, sliding her glass toward her as he finished pouring his own. “But, it’s also the truth. And, whether you believe that or not is all up to you, but the blush on your face tells me you already do.”

Quickly, Kagome ducked her face to the side, shielding herself with her palm. “You’re not supposed to point something like that out, you butt.”

He laughed, “Sorry.”

“Besides, you speak pretty boldly for someone who hardly knows me!” 

“Ah, and that’s what the question game is for, isn’t it?” Inuyasha pointed, sauntering back to the fridge to pull some vegetables out to chop. “You know how I know you’re worth the effort? This is part of the game, so don’t think I’m still flirting.”

“How?” She giggled.

“Because, when we first met, instead of giving in for the drink without thought, instead of just taking the courtesy, or even blowing me off, you challenged me. You looked me dead in the eye and made me work just to convince you to say yes. You basically told me right then and there that if I wanted any sort of response from you, I had to rise to the occasion. And, fuck, I loved it.”

“First of all -“

“How could you possibly have a counter for that!?” Inuyasha’s jaw dropped, clenching his laugh behind feigned shock.

“I’m argumentative, you’ll get used to it.” Kagome dismissed with a wave. “First of all, I don’t understand how me giving you a hard time made you see that there was more to me. Usually, I’m told I’m just being a little shit.”

“Maybe I’m into that kind of attitude.” The hanyou shrugged, pulling out a cutting board and a knife.

“Remember you said that if I ever frustrate you.”

“If we have enough time for you to piss me off, I’ll consider myself lucky.” He grinned, absentmindedly rinsing the bell peppers beneath the running faucet in the sink.

Kagome didn’t expect to be so taken aback by a single comment. Hearing him say that, seeing his smile, knowing he wanted whatever time he could get with her was flutter-inducing. All over, she felt warm, the budding sensation originating in her abdomen and expanding to cover every inch of her body. It was like he knew all the right things to say, and she dropped any ounce of skepticism she had remaining in her head. Because, doubting anything from this point on would only prevent her from enjoying this time that was proving to be valuable and already the best summer of her life. She’d met plenty of smooth talkers in her adult life, and while a couple may have scored, none of them ever made sure she felt safe and comfortable, seemed to put her first, and successfully made her feel some type of wonderful way. 

Skillfully, she hid her expression behind her wine glass, taking a small sip before continuing on. “Second of all, has any girl actually blown you off?”

“Oh, yeah!” He confirmed, bringing the now-clean vegetables back to the cutting board and laughing. “Plenty of times.”

“What!? No way! You!?”

“Don’t make me relive it, beautiful. I’m not everyone’s cup of tea.”

“Boy, you are iced tea coated in sugar. Yes, you are!” Kagome passionately and unthinkingly protested, brows pinching together and lips sealing shut as she realized what she’d spurted out. Inuyasha glanced up from the vegetable he’d just begun to cut, surprise, bewilderment, and amusement all painted onto his growing smile. Ducking behind her glass, Kagome took a large gulp to wash her embarrassment away. “Good wine.”

“Glad to know you feel that way.” Inuyasha said, tongue slowly sliding out to lick his bottom lip, his teeth lightly dragging over the moistened area as his tongue glided back inside.

“Next question.” Kagome urged.

“What are you majoring in?” He asked, the smug grin still on his face while he went back to chopping the veggies.

“Interior design with a minor in communication. Can I help?”

“Nope. What are your hobbies?”

“Binge watching shows and sleeping past six a.m.. Give me a bell pepper.”

“You can’t help me. It defeats the purpose of me cooking for you.”

“Don’t you think it would be better if we cooked together, though?” Kagome playfully argued.

“I don’t trust your cooking. You’re a college student. Your expertise lies in instant ramen.” Inuyasha joked.

“That’s not true; my expertise is in cereal, but that’s irrelevant. I think I can manage helping you out.”

“You literally just convinced me otherwise.” He laughed, moving the cutting board away from her as she reached across the counter. “I’ll let you help next time, so back off.”

“Oh, next time? Are you already asking me out on a second date, Inuyasha?” Her tone held the hint of flirtatiousness, and she propped her chin in her palm, her elbow braced on the counter.

Inuyasha couldn’t describe what he felt when he was with her. It was trivial. It was fucking thrilling. The glimmer in her brown eyes set him on edge and the natural pink of her lips had his undivided attention. Her voice was soothing, her hands fit perfectly in his, her scent was almost enough to hypnotize him, and what made it all so much sweeter was how natural everything seemed to flow between them. Sure, he was a bit nervous and she seemed shy at certain points, but that didn’t hinder anything. That didn’t turn off any switches or stiffen the atmosphere. It, instead, made it so much more pleasant; like, the air in the room became warm and comfortable as they talked and got to know one another with organic reactions, their muscles relaxing as they quickly grew more in tune.

With all that in mind, he couldn’t begin to explain what had suddenly come over him. It was like the answer to her question had to be an action. Like, he wanted to prove how crazy he already was for her. The way her lips shifted from a soft smile to a relaxed shape as she took a sip of her wine had him captivated. Inuyasha gently set his knife down, sauntering over to the sink to rinse his hands and dry them on the small rag on the counter. Then, he walked her way, slowly, stopping just inches from her body, and she turned to fully face him, receive him. Her cheeks flushed lightly, and he couldn’t resist the pull to touch her, tenderly brushing rogue strands of hair behind her ear.

“One last question,” Inuyasha said, his voice low. “May I kiss you?”

When her lips parted ever so slightly, and her lashes seemed to flutter from how she looked from his eyes to his mouth, he took his cue, leaning down to softly kiss her.

In that moment, there was a grip on her soul that tugged her closer to him. It was powerful yet calming, not the least bit unsettling, her mind blanking as she breathed him in. The kiss grew more heated, more curious, Inuyasha’s hands gliding into her hair as her own gripped at the sides of his shirt, her fists furling and bunching the fabric as she was completely enraptured by the moment. Lost in his kiss. Held hostage by his taste. A sensation climbed through her, something she’d never experienced before, her sigh coming out as unsteady as his. The hanyou backed her up, their bodies never breaking away from each other, nor their craving lips,  trapping her between himself and the counter.

With a wavering breath, Inuyasha continued to kiss her, his body firmly against hers, and still, Kagome found herself wishing he was closer. She was completely taken over by whatever unearthly power was at play, entranced by this force, by him, by everything. Her fingers trembled against him as they uncurled along his shirt, gliding up his sides to clutch again just to satiate her restless hands. When his mouth slowly pulled away, Kagome blinked her eyes open, focusing on the awe expression on Inuyasha’s face. Had he felt it, too?

And then, he took three steps back, almost seeming to try to appear composed, though his eyes spoke his truth. Maybe she should have done the same, but she was still held tight by what had just happened, and like a greedy devil, she wanted more. She never wanted it to end in the first place. What she felt was pure bliss. Invigoration blended fervently with a fierce desire to connect and stay connected, remain touching, never let go, never turn away. So, why had he? What was he thinking? What a stupid, stupid, stupid man. If he felt exactly what she had, he must contain the strongest willpower she’d ever encountered, because she was shaken to the core by the minor separation.

There was a bout of silence, the space filled by the soft sound of their slightly heavy exhales. For once, even he didn’t appear to have anything smooth to say. Good. If he spoke, Kagome would only shut him up. She wanted more. She needed it. That sensation hadn’t yet completely captivated her, made home in the center of her chest, and she wanted it to. Imagining this was the one time in her life that she’d be able to feel something so intense, she couldn’t pass up the opportunity to soak every ounce of it up. And, she was fully convinced she’d only experience this with Inuyasha.

Rectifying the mistake he’d made, Kagome pushed off of the counter she leaned upon, stepping toward him without a trace of apprehension to reclaim his kiss. That seemed to be all the encouragement Inuyasha needed, as his hands, once more, were on her, in her hair, cradling her jaw, gliding down the sides of her neck to hold her solidly to him. Again, he backed her against the counter, but his fingers swiftly slid down to grasp her waist, bouncing her up to seat her against the counter’s surface. She felt so hot, that exciting sensation filling once more, like a hose left in a kiddy pool to fill to the brim, rocking her with shudders and trembling as the levels grew higher and higher, centimeter-by-centimeter, more and more. She’d spread her legs so Inuyasha could stand between them, his hands gripping her hips to pull her closer to the edge and solidly against him. His kiss was heated and hungry, a small reverberation rumbling through his chest and bringing Kagome’s uncontrollable fingers to grip the collar of his shirt to bring him impossibly closer, finding the noise utterly irresistible. 

One of his hands flew to the nape of her neck, gripping there as his hips gave a small grind between her thighs, and as she released the tiniest whimper, Inuyasha raked his fingers up through her hair, furling, clutching but not yet yanking, only asserting enough pressure that caused her to release the real heat of that noise while her hips gave a little roll of their own. He would have probably muttered a curse if he remembered how to speak, but no such luck. It was all he had not to have his way with her right then and there, especially as her fingers began fumbling against the buttons of his shirt, undoing them one-by-one, only pausing when he tightened his grip in her hair just an inkling and created the smallest of spaces between their mouths as he lightly dragged his lips over hers in a teasing motion. As if already well-versed with his ways, Kagome seemed to smile, waiting him out, letting him do as he pleased, and when he released his grip on her dark, thick locks, she closed the scant distance with a whispered but most melodic moan he’d ever had the pleasure of hearing, continuing her venture down the alley of buttons as if there was no inconvenience in the first place.

Just as she unlatched the final loop, Inuyasha pushed her hands away, refusing to let her immediately remove the garment as he clutched her thighs and picked her up, her legs instinctively hooking behind his back as he shifted an arm around her waist for further support. Carefully, he made his trek out of the kitchen and down the hall, pinning her against the wall along the way when she daringly stroked one of his ears. He’d never found himself weak for the sensation, but here he was damn near crumbling away when she did it, and her joyful giggle didn’t help any. Inuyasha ground against her, gripping into the plush skin of her thigh as he tasted her tongue, and when she gave a breathy gasp in response, her hands fell so her arms could circle around his neck, pulling herself closer to him.

He continued down the hall, his growing erection painful against his jeans, but simultaneously hot and wonderful. Not once had he ever been this turned on, this ready to make a woman his own, and no matter how badly he would no doubt end up aching from the anticipation, he was going to take his damn time with her.

As soon as they reached the doorway of the bedroom, he set her down, his hand gripping behind the back of her neck again to prevent her from separating from his kiss. Inuyasha tried to get the light switch but only ended up smacking the wall a few times before giving up, the room darkened by the blackout curtains that prevented the rays of setting sunlight from entering through. Fuck it, it didn’t even matter at this point. Their eyes would adjust, and he planned on feeling every inch of her to do all the seeing necessary, anyway.

Guiding their way toward the mattress, he utilized the space between to push the cardigan from her shoulders, allowing her to drop it to the floor as he reached for the hem of her dress and pulled it over her head, discarding the article of clothing entirely before reclaiming her soft lips with his own. Kagome finally pushed the opened shirt from his arms, her hands scaling over the toned ridges of his torso before landing on the button of his jeans.

She wasn’t quick enough to get the job done, though. They’d reached the side of the frame of the bed and Inuyasha pushed her down on top of it, taking off her strapped sandals and then quickly climbing over her as they both crawled further toward the center of the mattress. Kagome arched her back as his hand snaked beneath, his lips hovering over hers as she felt the smallest amount of pressure before her bra was snapped loose. She’d have shown her shock at his level of skill - or lack of a struggle, really - if she’d had it in her, but she was so enraptured by this man that his bewitching movements, his body weight, and the way he pulled the straps of her bra down her arms to throw to the floor only aroused her more. 

God, she wanted him so bad. She was nearly breathless just from the tantalizing way he kissed her, and now he was paying special attention to the curve of her neck, a palm of his skimming over her breast as the other supported the majority of his position on top of her. It was hard to speak, to make any noise, really, unless he, himself, brought it out of her. His body heat felt so comforting, yet teased her all the same as he pulled away to stand on his knees, placed perfectly between her thighs to unbutton his pants and pull them down a smidge so that it was cotton grinding on cotton, masterfully preventing the chaffing from his jeans when he leaned back over her to give her more. 

Inuyasha’s mouth was currently devoted to her clavicle, and Kagome felt as if she would melt, a whimpered sigh leaving her lips as he rolled his hips against her. Everything he was doing was so perfect. It was everything she’d discovered she loved and more. Like, he had a window into her cravings and was expertly utilizing all the information he had at his disposal, amping it up a little just to soften things back so the sensations didn’t become too much too fast.

“Condom?” Kagome finally forced out, her tone feeble and whispered.

“Don’t worry, baby.” He murmured against her skin, his own voice deep and vibrational. Just that, alone, made her moan, but he begrudgingly stopped.

Inuyasha breathed out slowly, bringing himself back up to hover above her lips. He dragged them over, not allowing her to kiss him as he traveled to her cheek, planting a sweet kiss there. One to her nose, her other cheek, then her jaw. It was like he was taking his time, his lips lingering against her skin as he skimmed downward, his hot tongue coming to play when he reached sensitive spots along her neck. Her collarbones were tended to delicately, then her chest was kissed before he made his way to her breasts, one hand taking residence over the right as his mouth made home on the left.

She was beginning to ache with how slow he was going, taunting her with languid kisses, avoiding her nipple as he gave the soft plush of her tits special attention that no one had ever taken the time to give before. He switched over to the right, his warm hand now squeezing the left, and once his lips landed on her nipple, kissing softly, Kagome reactively arched her back to feel more from him. Inuyasha chuckled, the sound damn near sending her reeling, and then took the perked bud into his mouth, sucking slightly before flicking it with his tongue. She shuddered, biting her lip to attempt to silence the whine that escaped, but as if he was determined to make her fold, he sucked a little harder, teasing her opposite nipple with the pad of his finger.

Inuyasha was diligent to make sure both breasts were treated equally, driving Kagome mad, and she especially found it insanely sexy when he could no longer bring himself to play with the tit in his hand, having to drive it between them to massage his hard cock for a moment, his knuckles rocking up and down along her pelvis. Still, despite his own grunts from the attention, he didn’t seem to be in any sort of hurry, his lips focused on her sternum, little parts of her ribcage, her stomach, the underside of her navel, then the hemline of her panties. As soon as his fingers curled within the garment at the sides of her hips, Kagome was swift to comply, lifting upward so he could drag the cotton down her legs to completely forget about once dropped.

He kissed along the front of her hips, his hands traveling up and down the outside of her thighs as he made himself comfortable between them. Kagome thought she couldn’t think straight before, but now she was completely captivated by him, her thought process muddled, useless, and debilitated. Hell, whatever this man wanted from her, he could have. He could take. He could have his way with her, and she’d fucking thank him at this point.

Inuyasha kissed her inner thighs, watching the way her chest heaved slightly. Something told him she’d never been worshipped before. It added fuel to his fire. He was dead set on personally showing her the treatment she deserved. Providing it was the true pleasure here. Her inner thighs seemed to be a sweet spot for her; he could tell by the way she clutched the blankets above her head in anticipation of each nip, kiss, and lick he served, switching from one leg to the other so she wouldn’t get too comfortable. Tempting her to make one of those gorgeous mewls, Inuyasha gently bit into the plush, witnessing the way her body contorted slightly, clearly out of her control, her chest rising higher, her hips leveraging away from him, the breathy sound from her mouth taunting him to reach for more. He held onto the outer sides of her thighs, making it impossible for her to squirm away as he did it again, sucking to apply the perfect amount of pressure, the keen she released in response music to his ears. Each time he bit into her, sucked on her inner thighs, squeezed his hands against her tensed legs, he inched his way toward her core, noticing how breathless she seemed to be. He debated slowing down even more, but figured that would only be cruel. He was king at teasing, but she was the queen that deserved all of the deliberate attention he could give. 

Tenderly, he kissed her lips, not wanting to shock her by diving right in, though he’d been dying to taste her. Another scant kiss and then he lightly dragged his tongue within her pussy, his hands shifting to hold her hips still instead of her thighs as she curved her spine for more. She tasted like a decadent desert, forcefully shoving him further into his trance. God, he wanted to hear her voice, hear how mad he was driving her, and he flattened his tongue, licking up to her clit in a way to beg her for the pleasure her satisfaction provided. Kagome’s hands flew into his silver hair, gently combing her nails through as she panted, her fingers slightly quaking along his scalp. He was working his way to build her up, lapping her up like the delicious treat she fucking was, his mind running absolutely wild, a groan leaving his own throat when he finally gave in to gift a mild suck on the bundle of nerves. Her hips bucked and Inuyasha tightened his grip, pinning her there, and she gave a shuddering moan, clutching his hair. He followed the cues from the noises she’d make, switching between licking her up to sucking her off, so fucking pleased by her stammering breaths, the way she’d inadvertently pull him closer by her grip on his hair, and the absolutely erotic way part of his name fell from her lips before she audaciously stroked his ear. As if she hadn’t learned her lesson from before. He fucking loved it; how she still attempted to give him attention while he ate her out like the goddess she was, how, even though she had a wonderful grip on his tousled hair, she was delicate with the appendage atop his head, how she managed to laugh a little while he moaned from how good it all felt, the reverberation no doubt tickling her pussy while she was simultaneously proud of herself for getting that reaction from him. The little, fucking vixen. Her giggle had been half joyful, half titillating, and like adding charcoal to a fire, he was fueled to drive her wild. Inuyasha dragged his tongue from her entrance to her clit multiple times, noticing how much she shook from his tedious and heavy attention. Then, he began to avoid her nerves at all costs, even exploring back to her thighs, biting, sucking, holding her still as she wriggled and whined. He went back to her pussy, evading her clit as he slowly lapped her up, then transferred his affection to her thigh, intent on giving her a hickey from how hard her couldn’t help but suck. Inuyasha trapped her wrists against her hips, multitasking in the way he made it impossible for her to do anything but accept what he gave. Kagome couldn’t beg from how her breath kept hitching, her whimpers clenched and strained as she obviously was close to climaxing. Eagerly, he gave her what she needed, licking the swollen bud and then finally sucking it into his mouth, listening intently to the way her breaths became short, shallow, laced with keens as her thighs tensed along the sides of his head. Inuyasha never stopped, and he would have fucking smiled from how heavenly this entire thing was if his mouth wasn’t preoccupied, focused entirely on her. He shifted his hold on her wrists to grasp her hands, entwining their fingers so she could shakily clutch him, her body progressively growing more and more taught. Only a little more and she quaked, squeezing his hands, her lungs hitching completely as she came.

Inuyasha slackened the intensity of his attention, little-by-little, not immediately pulling away so he could ride out her orgasm until her body decided it was done. When she began to breathe again, heavily at that, the hanyou released her, kissing her lips in finality and letting go of her hands. She was spent, her eyes closed as she regained some form of composure, her arms limp on her stomach, and if he hadn’t begun to crawl over her, he was sure her legs would have closed and fallen to the side. He gave her a moment, stroking her hair at the sides of her temples and behind her ears, treating her with the utmost amount of care until she came to.

Kagome fluttered her eyes open, landing on Inuyasha’s patient expression. His features were shadowed from the darkness, but still, with her adjusted sight she could appreciate how handsome he appeared in the low hues. Like, any form of lighting complimented him gorgeously. She licked her bottom lip, raking her teeth over the moistened area in the hopes that he’d catch the hint and kiss her, but instead he gifted her with one of his crooked grins, his fingers softly raking down the side of her neck to gently curl around her throat. There was no preventing her obvious joy from the motion, her sigh pleasurable as she notched her chin upward to give his large hand room to claim her, her heart like a force of thunder beneath her ribcage that she was positive he felt.

“Stay here.” He said huskily, and she had no choice but to oblige.

She missed his body heat as soon as he removed himself from the bed, and she noticed, as her knees fell together, no longer separated by his hips, that her thighs still shook minutely from her previous orgasm. She could hear the rustle of clothing as he removed his pants and boxers, hear a drawer opening, a tiny crinkle of a packet, then his weight administering back onto the mattress as he gently situated himself over her once more, guiding her knees open to welcome him back in. Kagome was quick to find him with her hands, his weight braced on his elbows as he laid over her, and she stroked up the sides of his waist, feeling each curve and edge of the sculpted muscles beneath his skin. She could feel the warmth radiating off of him, soaking into her, his chest pressed to hers as he gave a soft grind of his hips, no longer hindered by his clothing. Just wonderful, blissful, searing sensations as his cock glided along her core. Finally, he kissed her, his lips so sweet and tender, and she wanted him closer, arching her back to feel the way his chest hitched when he breathed her in, her hands roaming over his sides, his defined back that flexed as he rolled his hips again, up to his shoulders and then his arms, massaging the biceps that supported him. 

One of his arms slipped away from her as he slid it between them, positioning himself perfectly, and he broke apart from the kiss, just enough to hover an inch or two above her face while he pushed inside of her. Slowly. Kagome felt his abdominals tense as he glided deeper, his sigh hot as her body happily accepted him, but when he released a clenched groan, almost sounding like a meager whimper of his own making, her mind blanked and a flush trickled through each vein of her body, threatening to cause her to melt on the spot. It was the sexiest sound she’d heard from him yet, so small and so genuine, so pleased and erotic, more rewarding than anything she’d experienced up until then. 

There was no stopping her loss of control, because frankly, she wanted him to take it. Kagome whined for more, her hands fumbling as he barely bucked against her, gripping, releasing, and gripping his biceps again as they were both now back where they needed to be. Inuyasha shushed her sweetly, chuckling as he ducked close to her ear, applying more fervency into his thrusts.

“Calm down, baby, you’ll get it.” He whispered before dipping to kiss her neck, exploring until she pinched her nails into his skin, clearly locating the key spot and sucking tenderly. He retaliated against her eager fingers, laughing breathily against her flesh when he pulled from her grasp one arm at a time, capturing her wrists to pin above her head in the clutch of one of his hands. Her wrists were so small compared to his palm, it wasn’t even a chore to keep her captive, taking his time as he built his rhythm to drive her mad. He gave the reddened mark on her neck a little nip, loving the vibrations that came through her throat as she moaned. 

Steadily, he fucked her a little harder, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room, and it seemed to be almost exactly what she wanted as he watched her eyes flutter closed and her teeth drag along her bottom lip. Begrudgingly, he released her hands, opting for a grip over her throat, never hindering airflow. Inuyasha kissed her jaw, not failing to notice the way she opened herself up for him, how she kept her hands above her head for him, how she mewled seductively when he took a moment to push as deep as he could inside of her, rubbing his pelvis against her pussy to change up his rhythm, to tease her clit, to see just how much this woman could handle. Fuck, she was so alluring. He wanted more of her. He wanted all of her.

Kagome clenched her fists, enjoying the delightful sound of his heated breath in her ear, the way his pace slowed to an uneven grind. His fingers held her neck in such a perfect manner - not too tight but not too soft; enough to let her know he was there and could do whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted. He grunted, muffling the sound as he ducked his face into her shoulder, his breath so hot and blissful. Wanting more, wanting to do something for him, wanting to please Inuyasha, she gave the edge of one of his shoulders a small shove, lifting her hips into him as he hastily complied, wrapped one of his arms behind her waist and rolled over, never separating from her.

The hanyou seemed almost breathless beneath her, especially as she pushed herself up to hover over his lips just as he’d done to her before. She smiled, taking a moment to stroke aside the silver strands of hair that stuck to his face, clinging from beads of sweat she also took the liberty of wiping away, taking particular care of the area around his eyes. His golden irises were so bright, they almost glowed in the darkness, bewitching her fully. Inuyasha reached for a kiss, and she would never refuse him, breathing him in as she deepened the motion. Her hips tediously rocked, and she couldn’t believe that the softest movement still brought a clenched groan out of him, one he’d intentionally tried to subdue, one that made her sigh in response. Kagome rose to sit straight, dragging her fingers down the center of his chest to his abdomen where she lightly braced her hands - more for balance than to utilize his frame to increase her tempo. She could do that all on her own. Inuyasha’s hands gripped the plush of her hips, squeezing slightly as he followed her grind, his head falling back into the comforter as his eyes closed in utter enjoyment. She increased her pace into a mild bounce, eating up the way he clutched her hips tighter, the way his own hips seemed to leverage higher so he’d hit deeper, the way he breathed and tensed beneath her. 

Inuyasha looked back at her, completely enthralled by the woman on top of him. He glided his hands to her thighs, feeling the way they flexed as they worked, then up to her waist to give attention to the beautiful curves, then to her bouncing breasts as he claimed them as his, massaging, needing, and observing how a sinful, little pout formed on her face when he tended to her nipples. That look, alone, could have potentially been his downfall, but instead it amped him further, determined to never forget the way she looked as she rode him perfectly.

She started going a little harder, his mind once more growing muddled as the sensations built. Kagome was so goddamn irresistible like this, but he wasn’t going to let her finish this on top. He let her have her fun. He let her have her way for a moment. Now, he was going to send her into the best sleep of her life.

Inuyasha reached behind her neck, pulling her to his chest so he could hold behind her back, quickly rolling her over and never ceasing the rhythm. He took over immediately, thrusting against her, harder and harder, her little body bouncing beneath him as he watched it all on his hands and knees. His pelvis slapped against hers, the sound so fucking erotic, mixed with her moans and whimpers that pushed him to a ledge. He knew she was spiraling closer, he could tell, he could read her language easily - as if he’d already had it memorized like the back of his hand. His own grunts and groans were growing louder, almost growls as he fucked her even harder, faster, and when he noticed her pussy clench against his cock when he actually did let out an accidental growl, and the way she made the most delightful mewl and practically rolled her eyes into the back of her head in absolute gratification, he was just about done in. Inuyasha  braced himself on an elbow, never faltered in his bucking, utilizing his free hand to tenderly stroke her neck, her cheek, and push the hair out of her face while growling lowly in her ear, coaxing her with gentle words in between to get her to cum for him. Oh god, her body grew incredibly taut, her voice muffled as he kissed her, riding her out harder than he should have as he tumbled into his own orgasm.

The afterglow was peaceful, and he was welcomed to lay on top of her for a sweet moment when, despite her shaking fingers, she softly stroked his sides, then his back, giggling as she had to wiggle one arm free so that she could rake the hair out of his face again, massaging his scalp with her nails as he came down. He got to listen to the sound of her heart pounding, focusing on the melody as it steadily calmed, soothing him.

Worried he was crushing her, Inuyasha rolled off, taking residence on his back next to her. He found her hand, manipulating his way beneath it so he could entwine their fingers, feeling the desire, no, the necessity to touch her in some meager manner.

“Still think it’s silly if I ask you out on a second date now?” Inuyasha asked. The two of them fell into a fit of laughter, happy and content and amused all the same.

It took almost too much effort to maneuver off of the bed, and maybe it shouldn’t have boosted his pride so, but seeing how much more she seemed to struggle than he, it was nothing short of a compliment. Kagome appeared almost groggy, hardly speaking aside from the soft, little thanks she gave when he helped her climb down from the mattress, and the tiny sound she made when she turned about aimlessly in search of the bathroom. He hastily disposed of the condom in the small trash bin by the nightstand, then took her hand, personally walking her to the bathroom to make sure her legs weren’t too unsteady. 

“If you touch that dress, I’m throwing it away.” He said jokingly as she reached for it after emerging from the bathroom, though it was also genuinely easy to take him seriously in that moment. She glanced up at him, perplexed but smiling, and he sauntered over to her from the dresser, now donned in a pair of sweats. Delicately, he leaned down and kissed her, simultaneously kicking the white summer dress away, swallowing her giggle. “Text Sango. Let her know you’re staying the night.”

Kagome blushed. After all that, she blushed. She didn’t want to argue, but even if she did, she purely didn’t have the energy for even a feigned attitude. To stay over with him, sleep with him, wake up to him, she didn’t know why but the idea made her happy. In a silent response, she waltzed over to his old, discarded shirt from before, picking it up from the floor and shoving her arms through the sleeves, so much looser on her than it appeared while it was on him. 

The hanyou gifted her with that crooked smile she loved so much, looking her up and down as she buttoned it up to her mid chest. “Good girl.” He whispered, and holy hell, that was just playing dirty. That, alone, made her knees damn near wobble, and she blinked at him, enchanted and in awe.

“Get back in bed, babe. I’ll be right back. The tv remotes are on the nightstand.” Inuyasha said, leaving the room.

She searched the floor for her panties, finally finding them in the dark before slipping them on and dropping her body facedown on the mattress, exhausted, ready to fall asleep right then and there before her favored hanyou came walking back in, chuckling at her lifeless form. She heard him set something on the surface of the bedside table before he sat next to her, leaning over to stroke her messy hair.

“What do you want on your pizza?” He asked softly.

“Cheese.” Kagome mumbled.

“Nothing else?”

“More cheese.”

“Got it. I brought you water. Drink it, okay?”

“There’s a twenty in my wallet in my purse. Put it towards the food.”

Inuyasha gave her butt a small spank. “Shut the fuck up.” He laughed, leaving the room again. “Where’s your phone?” He shouted from the kitchen.

“Purse.” She replied lazily, hoping he’d magically catch what she said because she sincerely didn’t have it in her to talk any louder. Surprisingly, he came back a brief moment later, playfully sliding her cell next to her face, picking her hand up, and planting it on top. 

With a forfeiting sigh, she clutched the device and rolled over to her back, sending her best friend a quick message saying she was staying over before pushing herself to a sitting position. Inuyasha sat next to her, handing over the bottle of water he’d brought her before gently stroking her leg.

“You okay?” He asked, warmheartedly.

“I’m perfect.” Kagome responded honestly, leaning in to give him a small kiss.

—

Kagome awoke the next morning, embraced in comfort and wonderful body heat. After eating pizza and getting three-quarters of the way through a movie, Kagome had cuddled up to Inuyasha, the both of them indulging in lazy conversation and affection throughout the night before they finally drifted off. Not once in her afterglow stupor did he tease her or complain. Inuyasha, in fact, was incredibly affectionate and caring. He massaged her scalp and combed her hair with his fingers, he stroked the skin of her thighs and her waist, he placed kisses to her forehead. She was on cloud nine, really. There was a point where, though exhausted, they couldn’t keep their hands off each other, and he’d unbuttoned her shirt, never stripping it off of her, but opening it up so he could touch and taste her at his leisure. She’d never experienced something so beautiful, where there were zero obligations, just two people in a trance, exploring slowly, sedately, soaking up the way muscles flinched when touched in certain manners, the way breathing increased in the peace of the night, the way it was so remarkably comfortable kissing someone, learning about someone until sleep overtook you.

He’d parted the blackout curtains a bit before crawling into bed with her to let the moonlight in, rays of sunshine filtering through now, painting the white walls in dull shades of yellow and orange. It was early. She could tell by the chill in the air and the way the colors weren’t blinding. Inuyasha’s breathing was deep and rhythmic, his arm draped over her as he was snuggled to the curve of her back. 

As if sensing she’d awoken, the man kissed the nape of her neck, pulling her a little closer to his chest as he littered the area with slow, sleepy kisses. His hand pushed within her shirt, parting the two sides so he could softly rub her tummy, grumbling a husky, “Good morning,” in her ear. Kagome hummed contentedly in response, feeling the shift as he began to adjust his position, pulling her to lay on her back as he lazily rolled over her, pushing the blankets off of them as he went. She was almost too pleased to comply, welcoming him in between her legs as his sweatpants lightly chaffed against her inner thighs. She could tell he still wasn’t completely awake, his lips dragging and lethargic, but his intention remained.

Inuyasha serenely sighed against her neck, sluggishly making his trek down her body and peppering her in kisses along the way. Kagome’s eyes were closed, savoring the affection he so willingly bequeathed. He made his way over her sternum, then traveled to her ribcage, kissing to her waist, then her stomach, then the opposite side of her ribs for evenness. He kissed above her bellybutton, below it, then again on each side of it before coming back up to take her lips as his, evidently a little more awake now. 

As he propped himself above her on one hand and further pushed her shirt open with the other, Kagome took an opportunity to soak in the visual of him, the way his short, messy hair fell downward with gravity, the way certain muscles in his arms were flexed from supporting his weight, the way the early rays of light complimented his skin tone. For a brief moment, as she usually allotted, she focused on his chest, her fingers painting over his toned muscles to fully appreciate him until her heart stilled. His chest. His left pec. There it was. The faded and tan, uneven and circular birthmark she’d envisioned. She was so focused on it, she’d hardly remembered to breathe, the pads of her fingers tracing the small blemish that linked her. Then, her attention shifted to Inuyasha’s stunned expression, and he looked almost fearful as he seemed to process what was going through her mind.

“No.” He spoke lowly. “No. No, no. Have you had the dream?” Inuyasha sat back on the mattress, staring at her with indiscernible concern as she rose to sit, as well.

“The… it’s you.” Kagome breathed. The small smile he gave, though still riddled with some sort of disturbance, was laced with a modest percentage of anguished relief as he tilted his head and reached to tenderly caress her cheek.

“Yeah. It’s me, Kagome.”

“Wait, did - did you know?”

“Since last night. I opened your shirt to see if what I’d dreamt was there. The small arrow tattoo on your ribs. And, the freckle beneath it.” Inuyasha admitted.

It was taking a moment to sink in. All of it. Kagome was in a state of stiffened shock and confusion. He’d known since last night, but she didn’t remember any sort of significant reaction coming from him; not a typical one you’d expect at least, much like the one she was giving now - though, now that she thought about it, she realized he had been paying fine attention to her tattoo. Truthfully, she’d gotten it for her eighteenth birthday and forgot it was there the majority of the time. It was a tiny and basic design. But, yet, it had been his indicator to find her. With the freckle beneath. Still, while he kissed it over and over in the moonlight of their romantic evening, nothing particularly tipped her off. Not a gasp, not a jolt of any sort, not a sign of hesitation. In fact, she’d never felt more adored in her life.

So, why did he not seem happy? This was supposed to be exciting, wasn’t it? A good thing? Wasn’t it?

“I-I don’t get it.”

“Kagome -“ He dropped his hand.

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I didn’t know if you knew.” Inuyasha said.

“It doesn’t really seem like you wanted me to know, either.” She wasn’t defensive, she was just bemused.

“I didn’t. I didn’t want you to know. Not yet.” When she didn’t say anything, her brows furrowing further, and brown eyes unable to confidently stay on him, flickering away unsteadily, Inuyasha continued on. “Kagome, listen. It’s bad timing. Really fucking bad timing. We both knew this thing between you and I had an expiration date. I figured if I was the only one that knew, I could handle the weight of it on my own. I didn’t want you to have to deal with the pressure. I didn’t want you to have to deal with any of this. Not until we stood a chance.”

“But -“ Kagome felt a little tongue tied, having a difficult time trying to wrap her head around anything. She closed her shirt, fastening two buttons in the middle to keep her body remotely covered, scooting herself off the bed so she could pace the room in a meager attempt to process and focus. She pushed her disorderly, wavy hair away from her face at the sides, discovering the uneasy, prickling sensation expanding in the pit of her stomach was anxiety. Her heart was beginning to pound erratically, and she felt a diluted series of jitters coming over her. “You’re my soulmate?”

“Yes.” Inuyasha answered, turning his position on the mattress to face her, his expression still ringing of concern, but most likely due to her incapability to rationalize as quickly as he seemed to.

“I thought - I thought finding each other was supposed to be romantic and happy. So, why is this not?”

“Because, you have a full agenda, and it’s not fair to be forced to balance out a new relationship on top of it. You know that.”

“Yeah, I know, but -“

“No, Kagome, I’ve been there. Going into your final year of college is hard enough, let alone maintaining an internship schedule, finding a moment to eat something and do laundry, and managing to get all of your homework done while attempting to get more than four hours of sleep a night - if that! And, it’s not just as simple as throwing a new relationship you weren’t prepared for in the mix. It’s a long distance relationship. Once I’m done here, I’m going to Europe for god knows how long.”

“Europe!?” Kagome’s face twisted, surprised, completely unsuspecting of how much worse this could get.

Inuyasha heaved a tedious sigh, propping his elbows on his thighs and ducking his head into his hands to gain his bearings. She’d stopped pacing, but he could fully sense her apprehension and unsteadiness while she waited for him to respond. When he was ready, he dropped his hands, still leaning on his legs, looking at her with as much mercy as he could manage in the moment. “Yeah. My dad passed when I was a kid and left his company to my brother and I. And, as much as I hate working for my brother at the moment, I can’t find it in me to walk away from what my father created. It’s a good corporation. We help kids in the system, and little-by-little, we’re taking over shit places and turning them around completely to better care for children in foster homes. Europe’s the big step for me in becoming a partner, and believe you me, despite my attitude at times, I’m the one with the heart necessary to balance out my dad’s legacy. Sesshomaru’s the brains.”

“Oh.” Kagome breathed. There was nothing more to question; that was as solid a reason to not be able to commit to anything as her senior year was. In fact, to her, his situation carried greater validity.

Inuyasha stood from his seat, carefully crossing the room to her. “Look at me.” He quietly said, cradling her jaw in his palms and tilting her head back so she’d comply. “Be honest, okay? Logically thinking, did you ever expect anything from this after you went home?”

Kagome shook her head in his hands. “No. I was the one to say we had a time limit.”

“And, is there even a sane part of you that thinks you’d be able to find a healthy way to manage your schedule and a long distance relationship?”

“No.” She admitted, chuckling disbelievingly. She pulled herself out of his hold, having a better grasp on the situation, but still a question weighed on her. “What were your plans? If I hadn’t had the dream yet, and you were the only one aware that we were soulmates like you wanted, what was your next step?”

“I was just gonna take what I could in the time allotted.”

“And, then what?”

“Business, as usual.”

“That’s it?”

“What else could I do?” He inquired, perplexed.

“I don’t know.” Kagome slightly stammered. “Ghost me? Wouldn’t that be easier on you?”

“Wait, excuse me? You want me to ghost you?” His tone piqued skeptically, his expression twisting.

“No! Nobody wants that! But, given the situation, it’d be more than understandable! You’d be saving yourself a lot of stress!”

“Stress isn’t what I’d label it.” He remarked.

“Okay, whatever! But, why would you willingly put yourself through this? It doesn’t make sense!”

“Well, what would you do, Kagome!?” Inuyasha snapped, raising his voice. “Honestly! Tell me! What would you do if you knew a person was your soulmate and you were only given an insignificant amount of time with them!? Would you take it or run!?”

Her eyes widened, her cheeks flushing dully, bottom lip trembling from the unforgiving truthfulness before them before she pinched her lips together in a measly attempt to keep her emotions grounded. 

It was his turn to incredulously chuckle as he cocked a brow at her. “You’d run?”

“I - no! I don’t know! This is a lot!”

There was a moment of silence between them where Kagome’s eyes uncontrollably shifted from the floor to his birthmark and Inuyasha stared out the open part in the curtain. She heard him drag in a deep breath, his chest noticeably expanding before he gave in and looked back at her.

“I was scared. When I saw the tattoo on you, I was fucking terrified.” Inuyasha spoke, his tone surprisingly level. “Everything seemed to click, though. It all made sense; why I was so attracted to you, why I understood you, why I felt so connected to you, why I wanted to see you as much as possible no matter what came of it. Maybe I’m impulsive in quickly deciding to live it up, but can you blame me? It’s you. I fucking found you. I was up most of the night thinking it through, and the thought of ignoring the opportunity for something made me want to puke.”

Kagome’s heart sank deeper, unable to monitor her expression as she huffed, her fingers shaking from her spiking anxiety levels. “How cruel is this?” She cynically asked. “This is the biggest ‘fuck you’ fate’s ever served.”

“I know.” Inuyasha agreed. “I stand by it, though; what I said. I still want to be able to say I took the chance with you than say I missed it.”

Kagome nodded, not quite sure what she was acknowledging but still giving him the acknowledgment, nonetheless. She scoured the ground, searching for her clothes and found them on the arm of the corner chair where Inuyasha had neatly placed them, tracking over to them and scooping it all into her arms. “I’m - I’m gonna get dressed and call an Uber, okay?”

“What? No. If you want to go, I’ll take you.” He said, brows pinching together.

“No. Thank you, but no. I don’t think I can handle the awkward and silent car ride back to my place on top of all this.”

“Kagome, I brought you here. It’s my responsibility to get you home.” Inuyasha stated with steady resolve.

“Can you just - I need to digest this, Inuyasha. On my own.” Kagome argued, swiveling on her heel and heading straight to the bathroom to change.

When she came out, donned in her dress and cardigan from the night before, the bedroom was empty. The air in the place, though, was tense and heavy. She felt horrible. For the way she imagined Inuyasha was feeling right now, for the way everything was turning out, and for the way she figured she was only making everything worse by not spontaneously jumping into his arms to accept the terms and conditions of destiny’s bullshit. She grabbed her phone from the nightstand, and her sandals by the chair, slipping them on her feet and reaching behind to hook the strap around her ankle before leaving the room to seek out her purse. She’d prefer to call and wait for her ride home at the corner, anyway. That way, she could remove herself from the discomfort and begin to breathe somewhat easier again as she allowed the situation to sink through her skin.

Inuyasha was standing by the counter in the kitchen, a shirt now covering his torso. She could see the tribulation written on his face, but when he noticed her, he still attempted a small smile.

“I ordered you an Uber that’ll take you home.” He said, gesturing to the cellphone illuminated directly in front of him on the counter. “That way, I know you’ll get there safely since I can watch the trip, and you won’t have to text me or anything.”

The guilt felt like a dense liquid in her abdomen, overwhelming each organ one at a time. “Can I give you money for it?”

“No.” Inuyasha shook his head. “I don’t want your money. I just want you to think about what I said. Deal?”

“Deal.” She agreed, giving a meager nod. Like an invisible force pulling her forward, Kagome closed the space between him, hugging him and burying her face in his chest, and Inuyasha didn’t hesitate to hold her, kissing the top of her head. This wasn’t his fault, and she was scared the next words out of his mouth were going to be an apology. She could see it clearly in his ember eyes. And, all she wanted was to make it go away.

Being held by him was soothing, and it almost felt like he was soaking up as much of the disconcertment she was muddled with as he could. He really was willing to cope with this on his own, wasn’t he?

The app on his phone dinged with the common notification that the driver had arrived, and Inuyasha arched back slightly, cradling her jaw once more as comfortingly as possible, then leaned down to place a sweet kiss on her lips.

“It’s gonna be okay, alright? No matter what.” He stated confidently, pushing some hair behind her ear before releasing her and reaching for her purse to hand over. She nodded appreciatively, resting the strap over her shoulder and heading to the door as he walked her out to the car.

Kagome sighed heavily as she reentered her best friend’s vacation house. The living area was empty. Silent. The clock on the wall ticking away seconds as she, for the first time that morning, realized just how early it was. It was barely seven-thirty, still a little chilly from the ocean breeze as the summer sun steadily rose higher in the sky. Not wanting to wake Sango by entering the bedroom they shared, she decided to think things through on the back patio until people rose.

With how jumbled her mind was, Kagome only managed to make it to the kitchen counter, a glass of water in hand to sip, listening to the never ending ticks of the moving clock hands while everything she learned this morning replayed in her head. While she felt less jittery now, she was still disturbed, unable to determine what the right thing to do was. Her soulmate. It was him. It was Inuyasha. He was within reach, yet soon would be so far. Was all this worth it? Or should she protect herself?

Lethargic, shuffling feet came from down the hall, growing louder as her best friend appeared in a large shirt that didn’t belong to her. Kagome and Sango locked eyes, Sango looking like a deer in the headlights, probably not actually having heard Kagome come home. Her long, brown hair was a mess - normally pretty straight but wavy and unruly at the moment. The most peculiar part of it was, Sango had stumbled from the hallway that led to Miroku’s and Ayame’s rooms. Given Koga was here, it wasn’t hard to determine which room she’d settled in for the night.

“When did you get home?” Sango inquired as innocently as possible, her voice small. 

“Two minutes ago.” Kagome couldn’t stop the slow-spreading smile on her face. With a small notch of her head, she silently asked her best friend if she’d come from Miroku’s room.

Sango followed the motion of her gesture, grimacing slightly before answering with a bashful. “Yeah. Let’s go get coffee and talk about it there.”

Kagome laughed, following her into their bedroom so they could both change into fresh clothing before heading to a nearby coffee shop. 

“So, what’s up? You’re not the cheery, I-got-laid version of Kagome I expected to see this morning.” Sango mentioned, taking a seat at a round, empty table at the cafe as they waited for their iced coffees.

“Oh, um, you first. I want to hear your story before I tell mine.” Kagome deterred, not even bothering to put too much effort into a feigned, joyful tone, knowing her best friend would see right through it.

“Kagome, what happened?” There was a little more concern that time, Sango’s head cocking to the side.

“Nothing bad, I promise! It was a good night! But, more importantly, you came out of Miroku’s bedroom this morning wearing Miroku’s shirt. Care to explain?” She giggled, teasing her embarrassed friend. Her cheeks were a vibrant red, and she hid the side of her face behind a hand so passerby’s wouldn’t see.

“Take a wild guess.”

“Did you have sex!?” Kagome hissed, laughing.

“Oh, like you didn’t already know!” Sango reached over and slapped Kagome’s forearm, laughing from her own humiliation. “I don’t know what came over me, dude! Or, him! He’s been acting kind of different with me for the past few days, and I don’t know, I like it! So, we all went to a bar last night, okay?” She said, prepared to get into the story. They weren’t far from the counter at all, so when the barista called their names, she got up to retrieve their coffees, only pausing her retelling to thank the girl that prepared them, and waltzing back over to rejoin Kagome at the table. “It was a good time, we all had fun and got a little buzzed. Ayame and Koga went straight back to their room as soon as we got home, and Miroku and I stayed up talking for a little. Maybe it was the alcohol, which is a cheap excuse on my behalf, but he seemed so sweet and mindful. And, girl, I was weak. Seriously. I was the one that kissed him.”

“What?” Kagome inched forward, absolutely dumbfounded.

“Yup.” She shrugged her brows, nodding. “I made the move. Then, one thing led to another and here we are. I did not hear you come in this morning, and you caught me on my walk of shame back to our room.”

“Sorry.” Kagome laughed. “Your secret’s safe with me. Promise.”

“Alright, your turn. Spill. You were home way too early, so what gives?”

In preparation, Kagome took three large gulps of her iced coffee, hoping the caffeine would make her bolder in the admittance she was about to give. “Okay, look, um, just try to keep an open mind to what I’m about to say. It’s a bit extreme.”

“What, did you do anal or something?”

“Sango!”

“So, no. Sorry! Go on! Open minded!” Sango raised her hands at her sides defensively, her expression humorless and sincere.

“Promise?”

“Of course. It’s me.” Sango assured.

“Alright, so for a few years now, I’ve been having that dream.” Kagome emphasized the words in the hopes that Sango would immediately catch on to what she was talking about. While it was typically well-known, it wasn’t altogether common. Not everyone experienced this sort of connection, so when Sango didn’t clue in, Kagome wasn’t offended. “The soulmate dream.”

“Woah, what?” She seemed sort of astonished, leaning forward minutely. “You’ve got a soulmate? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because, what were the chances of me even meeting him?” Kagome answered with a disappointed shrug.

“Right. That’s right. It’s sort of a fickle thing, huh? Not really something people boast about nowadays.” Sango bit her lip unsurely, her shoulders sagging. “But, so, is he…” She trailed off, apprehensive about potentially pouring salt in Kagome’s evident wound, but all the while hoping Kagome would pick up on where she was going with her question.

“Yeah.” Kagome confirmed, with one steady nod. “He’s got a birthmark right here,” She grazed the general area on her chest with the pads of her fingers. “And, he dreamt of the arrow on my side.”

“Wait, okay, back up. Start from the beginning. I need some perspective, because you are far from happy. This isn’t what I pictured happening when someone found their person.”

“Right?” She giggled disbelievingly. “The date was nothing short of perfect. Thinking about it now, it’s kind of embarrassing, because we weren’t even together for an hour before he kissed me. Don’t laugh, but when he did it, it really felt like the whole cliche fireworks sort of thing. Which then turned into the best sex I’ve ever had in my life. I’ve never felt the way I did when I was with him. I was a bit preoccupied to notice his birthmark, though, so I didn’t see it until this morning. Cue the freakout.”

“Oh, no. Did he know?”

“Yeah, he knew before me. He saw my tattoo last night. He just didn’t say anything in case I wasn’t aware.”

“Wait. He was chill and you were the one that freaked? It wasn’t a mutual thing?”

Kagome groaned, taking another drink from her coffee. “Pretty much.”

“Why?” Sango pressed, completely invested in Kagome’s situation.

“Because, it’s complicated. This wasn’t supposed to be anything passed a fling.”

“And, you’re mad that it is?” She slowly asked, trying to gain an understanding on her point of view.

“No. Not at all. The circumstances are what get me. At first, I felt pretty safe when I realized who he was. Honestly, as crazy as it sounds, if there was someone that was going to be labeled my soulmate, I’m kind of happy it’s him. He’s a really good guy. But, then I saw how afraid he was at discovering I’d had the dream, too. He didn’t want me to know. Because, we can’t be together.”

“Why not?” Sango’s voice was small, like she, herself, felt the weight of the sadness.

“He’s out here for work, and once he’s done, he’s going to Europe. He doesn’t know when he’ll be back, but this is his father’s company, so I understand the importance of it and how busy he’ll be. With both of our workloads and the distance, it’s not fair or realistic for us to try to commit to anything or anyone else. And, neither of us should drop our lives and what we’ve worked for.”

“So, that’s it? It’s done?” She asked, her shoulders somehow managed to droop further. She wore a sympathetic frown, her brows raised as she reached across the table to gently stroke her best friend’s arm.

“I don’t know. That’s where it get’s dangerous. Inuyasha wants to take advantage of the time we have left so that we get something out of this, but don’t you think that’d be risky? I mean, I’ve already grown fond of him, imagine the attachment that’ll develop by the end of our stay.”

“So, what? Go for it.” Sango insisted supportively.

“Like it’s that easy.”

“Isn’t it?” She countered. “He’s your soulmate.”

“It’s only going to hurt him and I.” Kagome grieved. “I’m not sure it’s worth it.”

“I’m actually surprised that you don’t. He doesn’t seem to have a problem with it. Honestly, I think you’ll end up more heartbroken if you left it as it is. Imagine you didn’t see him again after today, and this was it. You’re so fucking close to each other, but you didn’t go after him. The moment we get home and the time is lost, how will you feel? How will you feel when you’re knee deep in homework and course information you’ll never use after this year, and your mind wanders back to the chance you didn’t take? And, when you graduate and you’re wondering if he’d still take you if you met again? Because, you’re out of your mind if you think it’ll be possible to never think about him after this. Come on, Kagome. Don’t do this to yourself. It’s bad enough life and fate are standing in your way. Are you going to let fear hold you back, too?”

It was as if clarity punched Kagome in the gut. She pictured a scale before her, the chance to experience a small window of time with her soulmate on one side, and hiding from it all on the other. By a long shot, the former won. Because, not only would Kagome be running from pain, which had a tendency to mute all other aspects of the scenario, but she’d be running from Inuyasha. Talking to Inuyasha. Kissing Inuyasha. Touching Inuyasha. Laying with Inuyasha. Anything with Inuyasha would be gone, and if she turned away from him now, she’d also be turning her back on fate. If she turned her back on fate just because the opportunity was inconvenient, how could she expect kindness from it in the future?

How could she expect to potentially find him again one day?

“You’re right.” Kagome gently admitted, worrying her bottom lip.

“Spend as much time with him as you can.” Sango said. “Don’t let him go until you absolutely have to.”

“But,” Kagome sighed, bowing her head in minor defeat. “You guys… the trip…”

“Babe, we’re the people you have to deal with until graduation - if not longer. Forget about it. If he tells you to come over, drop what you’re doing and go.”

“Miroku.” Kagome’s tone was uncomfortably stiff, nervous for the shit she’d get from her close  friend that was a little too protective for his own good. He was a skeptical one, so bringing up soulmates might only make him scoff and ridicule, and she didn’t need that right now.

“I’ll handle him.” Sango shook her head dismissively, as if she would take him down in an instant if he talked even a little crap. “I’ll explain it to them, and I can guarantee you won’t hear a thing. You’ve got enough to worry about, so let me deal with them, okay?”

—

She really should have texted or called him before showing up out of the blue, but Kagome had been so focused on maintaining her courage to do this in the first place that she’d completely forgotten about the entire, necessary communication aspect. 

It had been over twenty-four hours since it all happened, and soon after returning from coffee with Sango, she began to visualize what it would be like if she didn’t take her shot. Much like Inuyasha, she felt like she was going to vomit. She also felt like she could have broken down into an irrational fit of tears. Though she’d already decided to chase after him before it was too late, the envisioned, negative scenario solidified her move.

Getting back to his place wasn’t difficult in the least, but as she approached, she noticed his car wasn’t there. Despite that, her stomach was still in shambles. Not for a single moment had she stopped thinking about Inuyasha. All she wanted was to see him.

In case his car was in the shop, Kagome forced herself forward, entering through the gate and heading to the front door. With a deep breath, she gave two raps to the surface, waiting a moment until it was clear he really wasn’t home. Texting him earlier would have avoided this mess. He would have given her a time to come over, and she wouldn’t look like a doofus standing on his front porch.

She debated going for a walk and coming back later, but a pull in her gut made her not want to go far. The pull was so dominating, in fact, that it took less than sixty seconds to get her to resign the idea to leave at all, bringing her to remove her phone from the back pocket of her jeans and take a seat on the top step. Mindlessly, she scrolled through social media, trying to keep herself distracted while she waited. It was Sunday. Realistically, he was most likely out with some friends - like the ones he was with when she met him. Given he wasn’t from here, his friends were most likely coworkers or management he found cool. It was almost five, so it was too early to party. Most likely, he went out to dinner with them. Though, he could have started partying early. In a town like this, it’s anyone’s prerogative. 

Kagome decided she’d wait thirty minutes. An hour, tops. Any longer than that, and it’d officially be considered weird and desperate.

Lucky for her, it was only another ten minutes before the rumble of his car pulled up to the curb in front of the gate. Unlucky for her, a nearly-debilitating flurry ruptured in the center of her abdomen, inadvertently sending a series of goosebumps over her entire body. Her moment was now. Through the semi-tinted window, she saw him notice her before even shutting off the engine, though it wasn’t until he stepped out - sort of hurriedly, she observed - that she noticed his overtly concerned expression. Kagome stood as Inuyasha slammed his door in his haste to cross around the car to her, pushing through the gate and meeting her halfway up the small walkway.

“What’s wrong? Are you okay?” He asked before she could get a word out. The hanyou was dressed about as professionally as he was the day she ran into him at the coffee shop, the white button up tucked into his slacks and hugging his body comfortably.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I promise. I should have called first, I’m sorry.” Kagome said, slightly embarrassed for worrying him. For everything, really. “I just - I wanted to see you.” To her surprise, his cheeks tinted with a subtle pink.

“Were you waiting out here long?” Inuyasha inquired, attempting to seem as composed as usual.

“Not really.” Kagome shook her head, taking another slow, deep breath to back up her courage. “Look, it was important for me to tell you this in person. I want it, too. So, if you still feel the same, I’m all yours.”

Those words rooted into his heart quicker than a sponge absorbing water. Still, Inuyasha let them hang in the air for a moment until he physically felt the weight-decreasing effects of them before replying with, “I still feel the same.”

With a sigh of relief, Kagome smiled lightly. “I know you’ve got a pretty busy work schedule. Just let me know when you’re free or want me to come over, and I will.”

“I’m not going to keep you all to myself. It’s a two-way street; just like anything. You’re on vacation, so we can -”

“I want you to. To keep me all to yourself. I can see them whenever I want, but I can only see you…” Kagome’s sentence remained incomplete, the notion of where it was going obvious. “This is about you and I now.”

“Your friends are okay with that?” He had to physically keep himself from smiling, forcing his compassion to come forward before he showed how pleased he was.

“Yeah. They’re supportive.” She said, loving the way his grin steadily appeared. As if his happiness triggered her own, she smiled, biting her lip as an ounce of shyness fluttered in her chest, replacing the nerves that had her stomach a mess just mere moments ago. “So, yeah. That’s all I came to say. I’ll let you actually get inside now. I’ll see you later.” Kagome said, turning on her heel to head out the gate.

Before she could get far, Inuyasha snagged her wrist, gently yanking her back over to him. “Where the hell do you think you’re going?”

“Home.” She giggled, stumbling into his chest. “I came over uninvited, and you might have had plans.”

“I don’t. I just came from work. Which means, I’m free, I want you, and because I got suckered into going today, I don’t have to go in tomorrow. So, you’re all mine. That’s how it goes, right?”

“Well, yeah, but I didn’t bring anything with me.” She laughed a little harder, seeing the cocky amusement in his golden eyes. “No toothbrush, no clothes -“

“Bold of you to assume you’ll need clothes, but come on.” He playfully grumbled, leading her by the hand to his car.

“Where are we going?”

“To get your shit. I’m not letting you out of my sight.”

—

Kagome sighed out contentedly, re-syncing her breathing to the deep rhythm of Inuyasha’s. He laid on his side next to her, his eyes closed and expression lax, the most peaceful he’d ever appeared in the short time she’d known him. Placidly, the hanyou stroked his fingers up and down her bare back while she rested comfortably on her stomach, incorporating his nails here and there, and soothing away any tension she may carry. Their hips and below stayed covered by a light sheet, the warmth of the day still tarrying in the evening air.

They’d briefly discussed the minor terms of their arrangement on the car ride to and from her place. Inuyasha’s schedule was decided on by the way the prior day went. If there were issues, he’d head in early the next day to make sure management beneath his guidance properly followed instruction to rectify them. Sometimes, that involved late shifts, too. Rarely, he’d have to work late and then come in early the next day, but it has happened. On days such as those, he wouldn’t be able to steal time with Kagome. Which she more than understood. Additionally, since he wasn’t able to set his time as one would with basic employees, he promised to keep her updated as days went along. She didn’t ask him to make that commitment, nor had she expected it in the least. It was him. He’d said he didn’t want to keep her waiting, or leave her hanging. He’d said he was going to do his part to make sure their time together counted toward something.

Truthfully, it helped her forget the dull ache in her chest. The little throb that came whenever she reminded herself that this was temporary. That she couldn’t keep him. When he smiled, when he laughed, expressed joy in any manner, when he touched her - which he seemed to never stop doing, it was impossible to focus on the reality that was to come in a day over two weeks. And then what? That was her biggest question that he didn’t want to concentrate on just yet. Would they become penpals? Text buddies? Send emails every now and again until they slowed and dwindled to a stop because the romance died off? It scared her. All of this scared her, and while Inuyasha was good at concealing his feelings, she felt it was safe to assume he was scared, as well. If they kept up some sort of virtual communication, considering the circumstances and their irrevocable connection, it was almost as good as keeping up a relationship. Which would apply pressure for them to find moments in their incredibly busy days to come to respond, update, show the other that they’re still thinking of them. While the aspect of it all seemed so simple, realistically it held the potential to increase stress and tensions. Something they needed to avoid. So, then, what? What would happen to them? How would they find each other again? Was this really it? Come the day she headed back to her university, did all things Inuyasha and Kagome cease? It was hard to believe. Then again, so was the entire situation. Almost laughably so. How could she have a person she shared such an astounding bond with presented before her too soon? What was fate’s message? It was one thing to never find your person, but it was another to find them and have them ripped away because it wasn’t the right time. Yes, they had resources, but how could they responsibly use them without crossing boundaries or instigating expectations from the other? That was one way to demolish things before they really had a chance to start.

Kagome was up so late the night prior thinking about every little thing standing in their way. The fact of the matter was, a relationship just wasn’t doable. It just wasn’t. That was easy to accept; relatively speaking. If it was her own schedule that caused the conflict, there would be no question about it. Kagome would do whatever necessary to make things work with him. But, that wasn’t the case. He had a goal of his own. A very important, passionate goal. One she grew to respect on the spot, just as he had her own. What became the hard pill to swallow was that everything would just stop once they separated. That couldn’t be the case. It was impossible to believe that she couldn’t be with her soulmate one way or the other. With Inuyasha. There had to be a way. A way to support him from afar. They were already tied by a red knot before they even knew each other; proclaiming themselves as the other’s significant other was irrelevant in retrospect. No matter how stressful and terrifying it would no doubt end up to be without him for a large bout of time, even if they stuck to bi-weekly emails, she’d do it. No question about it, she’d do it. She’d do anything for him.

How insane. Maybe it was the romanticization of their particular and special predicament, but the moment she kissed him, she swore she fell harder than she’d ever had before. Was it just the idea of having him? Was she just on an out-of-her-mind level of smitten? Or was this part of having a soulmate? Did the moment you physically connect make you fall hopelessly in love? That was something a Google search definitely couldn’t tell you.

But, she was, wasn’t she? She was already in love with Inuyasha.

“I’m glad it’s you.” Kagome whispered ever so softly. His roaming fingers never stopped, and he didn’t even bother to open his eyes, though his brows scrunched just the slightest.

“You’re glad I’m what?” His tone was groggy, deep and gruff, and she loved it so much she giggled.

“You’re so sleepy. Why are you still awake?” Kagome kept her voice as a sweet whisper, not wanting to offend his sensitive ears or alert him to come out of his sedated reverie.

“I’m not sleepy.”

“Oh, yeah?” She teased.

“Shut up. I could do this all night.” He feebly argued, the gruffness still hanging heavily in his words.

“And, what if I do it to you? How fast do you think you’d fall asleep?”

“Touch me and die.”

“I’m so scared.” Kagome mocked, giggling again when amber eyes parted, looking at her with feigned annoyance. It didn’t last long, his lazy grin taking over as he scooted himself a little closer to make it impossible for her to proceed with her plan.

Inuyasha kissed her shoulder, one intentional kiss unintentionally turning into multiple, slow ones that made him never want to stop. It didn’t matter how tired he was, he never wanted to stop worshipping her in whatever matter he could manage in any moment he was lucky enough to have. Having her so close was a gift from the universe. It livened his nerve endings and made even the tiniest touches sensational. His heart would calm, and even he, a half demon, a supernatural creature with the born ability to protect, felt safe.

This was a side to himself that even he had never known before. One filled with overwhelming adoration. Hope, even. Hope that he could eventually love her forever.

Leveraging himself up, Inuyasha rolled over to prop his hands and knees on either side of Kagome, lowering himself as necessary to spread deliberate, lingering kisses over her back in sporadic places. Though her hair had already been pushed over her shoulder from his recent attention, he swept his fingers through rogue strands that dared to impede his path over her beautifully soft skin, pushing them away only to unconditionally be unable to resist the temptation to rake his fingers all the way through to her scalp, her black waves bunching in his hold as he gently gripped until he heard that smooth sigh he’d expected leave her lips, then released.

“What were you so glad about?” He rumbled, kissing down her spine. She hummed questioningly in response, clearly distracted. Forgivingly, he repeated the question, physically feeling the shudder that traveled through her body at the way the reverberation in his chest pleased her. “You said you were glad about something a minute ago. What was it?” 

Kagome smiled, enjoying the tickle of his lips as they skimmed over her low back so he could plant kisses over the little dimples there. His mouth was so warm, so wonderful on her naked flesh, organic and sweet, and more than deserving for her to echo her honest statement. “I’m glad it’s you. I’m glad you’re the one I dreamt about.”

He stopped, golden eyes flickering up to peer over the curves of her back, her expression hidden by the angle. But, he knew. He could hear it in her voice, laced with exquisite honey. Such an easy statement for her, and it was going to be the death of him.

Inuyasha made his trek back up her spine, a little more haste in his movements, but he continued to pepper kisses to her flesh. As he reached her head, he gave the softest of kisses to her cheek, her already-there grin growing wider while her brown eyes remained closed, absorbed in his affection.

“I’m glad too, baby.” He whispered blithely.

Every worry was gone after that, forced away by such ardency. They spent hours over coursing days learning about the other, completely enthralled in stories and reminiscence, joking and playing, touching, feeling, laughing and sighing tranquilly. Kagome was captivated by his smile, his history, his touch and how he didn’t only have one mode; how just a little motivation in subtle ways could make him go from tender to rough.

The best part of all of it, that absolutely topped the calming effects he brought whenever he was near, was how natural everything just continued to flow between them. Neither felt the imperative need to impress. Yes, they still worked toward each other, but their energies ultimately went toward just being. With their limited allowances, it was silently, yet unanimously decided that neither party needed to bother with such trivial advances. Their hill to climb came when they’d separate. Until then, the two’s efforts went toward making things as easy as possible.

After days, he finally let her cook for him - mostly because she brought the ingredients, herself, and refused to let him help. It was one of her mom’s recipes that had always stuck with her; pretty simple, but delicious. All the while, he tried to play around the kitchen to make it hard for her to get anything done; flicking water her way, gently shoving her aside while she stirred the food in the skillet, kissing her neck and nibbling the tickle spot at the curve of her shoulder to make her laugh. She’d fight back, of course. It wasn’t hard to locate his own spot that made him gasp and flinch away in retreat. But, after she served their plates and he poured their wine, and they sat down on the couch to eat and watch a movie, he took a bite, smiling as he swallowed, leaning over and giving her a kiss to thank her for the meal, and unpredictably, she fell deeper in love.

She awoke one afternoon, comfortable on the mattress but chilled by the lack of body heat she’d grown accustomed to. It was an extremely hot day, so Inuyasha had lowered the air conditioner, making it blissfully snug in the little home he rented. He was first to fall asleep for a nap, curled into her chest while she serenely stroked his ears, and after a while of feeling the rhythmic way his breathing filled his lungs, she succumbed to the pull of slumber. So, where the heck was he now?

It didn’t feel like she was out for too long, she wasn’t in that panicked state of confusion that normal happened after napping for two or more hours, and reaching for her phone to check the time, she discovered that it had barely been an hour since they’d initially laid down. Kagome pushed herself to sit up, blinking away her drowsiness in the darkened room, the blackout curtains really doing their part. The door was cracked, but she could still hear muffled voices coming from the living room, one of which belonging to her Inuyasha. Still in a vague stupor, she scooted herself off the bed, silently leaving the room to scout him out. She found him on the couch, his phone in hand and set to speaker as a deeper voice came through, relaying information that was easy to deduce was business related.

Ember eyes landed on her and his disgruntled expression shifted into a soft smile as he mouthed the word, “Sorry.” Kagome cocked her head to the side with a grin of her own, not at all bothered. She was seconds away from heading back to the room to give him privacy when he beckoned her over with three curls of his finger. Happily, she sauntered from the hallway to the far couch he resided on, following his cue to straddle his lap when he muted the mic of his phone and opened his arms for her.

“It’s my brother. Last minute conference call. Be quiet, okay? It shouldn’t be much longer.” He said as she adjusted the skirt of her dress so it wouldn’t get uncomfortably caught between them. 

She nodded compliantly, snuggling into his chest and tucking her face in the curve of his neck, and he unmuted himself at the perfect time to answer Sesshomaru’s question. With a mind of its own, Inuyasha’s free hand roamed over her back soothingly, paying close attention to the skin above the top hem of her dress. He mindlessly pushed the spaghetti straps off her shoulders so his palm had nothing standing in its way to massage the area, his girl taking the liberty to shift her hair aside. He knew she would, and he had to stifle his chuckle.

“No, I don’t think he’s fit for the job. We’ve gotta replace him.” Inuyasha said, and his brother hummed in obvious contemplation. Kagome hoped the meeting went on a little longer. She loved the absentminded attention and the rumble from Inuyasha’s chest as he spoke. In an effort to give him some attention of her own, she gave a tiny kiss to the area of his neck immediately before her, and like a trigger, he rested his phone on a cushion beside him so he could fully devote both hands to her. He stroked her lower back a little, shifting down to pull her closer by the ass. She was sure it was innocent. She was sure he was just being completely attentive to her. But, the devious side of her liked it.

“Your reasonings?”

“He’s a piece of shit.” Inuyasha replied, continuing his massage.

“Inuyasha.” His brother held a stern tone, almost coming off as a reprimand.

He rolled his eyes, not even bothering to hide his gruff sigh. “He’s got sloppy work ethics, he’s always reluctant to implement our changes, his management skills are worse than subpar - do I need to go on?”

“No. That’s enough. Is there someone at that location you think would be a better fit? Or should we bring someone in?”

“Not sure yet. Things are just starting to turn around in our favor. In the meantime, I’d say things would go smoother without him.”

Playfully, Kagome scooted her butt back to her original position, and she practically felt his smirk when he played along and pulled her back, his hands slipping beneath her sundress to caress her skin and keep her where he wanted. The conversation kept going between he and his brother, and Kagome pressed languid kiss after languid kiss to the length of his neck, silencing her giggle when he tensed. Honestly, she was waiting for her cue to stop, waiting to see how far he’d really allow her to go, but he elongated the area for her, giving her free rein.

She continued her venture, nipping his sensitive spots, sighing out hot breath over areas she was kind enough to suck and feeling his fingers flex over her ass in response. While this was enjoyable to him, she could tell he wanted to laugh, not at all blind to her little ruse. Which then, in turn, made her almost laugh, because she loved the feel of his abdomen clenching from having to stop himself.

In an attempt to let him know she was serious, Kagome traveled up to the crook of his jaw, a sweet spot for him, waiting for the perfect opportunity in the brothers’ conversation to sensually nip in the exact way he liked it. Carefully, she covered his mouth with her palm to reinforce his rule to remain quiet just as he tensed rigidly. And, when he was clear, she leaned back, smiling proudly when he glanced at her with adamant surprise on his face. She stuck out her tongue teasingly, allowing her hands to roam to the bottom hem of his shirt and drift beneath, returning to her ministrations along his neck. Her fingers playfully skimmed along his warm skin, pushing his shirt up as she pleased, but when she heard his brother ask a question and Inuyasha, too distracted, didn’t answer, she pulled a hand away and waved it in front of his face, pointing down to his phone. Inuyasha was quick to excuse himself, asking Sesshomaru to repeat the question because the line broke out momentarily, to which the guy huffed in annoyance.

It was so hard to prevent herself from giggling, especially as he gave a tiny swat to her butt for getting him in trouble. But, she knew he didn’t want her to stop. She knew she could do whatever she wanted to him.

Kagome pulled back, winking and holding a finger to her lips to tell him to keep silent. His shocked expression grew to one of humored disbelief as she crawled off his lap to kneel between his legs, pushing his shirt out of the way of his belt buckle while he adjusted himself for a better position. Slowly, she slid the end of the belt free, careful not to make the metal clink as she unlatched it and pulled it all the way out of the pant loops so it wouldn’t be in her way. Inuyasha had to arch his back to help, highly amused, his smile painted with his quiet laugh as he pressed the side of his fist to his mouth to make sure he didn’t make a sound, then skillfully answered Sesshomaru without a single hitch in his tone. When the belt was finally out and placed on the floor, Kagome took to undoing his button, pulling down the zipper, then Inuyasha muted his mic so the sound of rustling clothes wouldn’t be received as he leveraged himself up so she could pull his pants and boxers down as far as necessary.

She bit her bottom lip as she was presented with his erection, peeking up at him after he unmuted his mic with a short answer, clearly trying to wrap things up on that end. Having too much fun, Kagome wasn’t going to bother on waiting. She dragged her tongue up the length of his shaft, flicking away at the head, loving the effects she had on him. He’d dropped his head back to rest on the cushion, smiling still but totally weak for her. Knowing she couldn’t get too crazy with her teasing, she only licked up his shaft once more before implementing a hand and taking him into her mouth. 

The poor guy could hardly stifle his grunt, but thankfully his brother didn’t seem to detect it, continuing to discuss things that didn’t necessarily need to be discussed in that moment. Rushing him would only piss the stubborn bastard off, and hanging up on him just purely wasn’t an option. But, Kagome was so fucking good at this, and she wasn’t even doing her worst yet. The girl was just getting started, and he was already having a hard enough time keeping his breathing lax. When she got down to it, he was fucking screwed. Sesshomaru needed to end this call if he knew what was good for him.

She took a moment to spit a little on his cock, using the saliva as lubrication for her pumping hand, then went right back in to suck his dick delightfully. He threaded his fingers through her hair, doing his part to keep the thick, black waves out of her face. The bonus was feeling the motion of her head as she took him in, seemingly more and more each time.

“Inuyasha? That wasn’t rhetorical.”

Fuck. “Oh, my bad. You sounded like the teacher from Charlie Brown for a moment, so I tuned you out.”

“Dick.” His brother spoke dryly, repeated himself with more firmness. It was a struggle to focus on anything his stupid brother said, captivated by the vibration of Kagome’s giggle on his cock. Still, he forced himself to answer the question, figuring the end to the meeting was near.

He’d had to grip her hair to lessen her pace, the only way to properly control his own reactions to this perfect girl. That didn’t stop her from attempting to take him all the way into her mouth, his head lolling back, his entire abdomen tensing, and mouth pinching shut at the amazing feeling. Kagome pulled back, usually needing to catch her breath immediately after, and took over with her hand for the moment. Her lips were pink and plump, her cheeks were flushed wonderfully, and her smile was the most sinful he’d ever witnessed. Leaning forward, Inuyasha captured her mouth with his, eagerly stealing a lingering kiss from her before settling back into place and allowing her to absolutely wreck him.

Empowered by his kiss and his hand in her hair, and the fact that he’d just muted his mic once more, Kagome bobbed her head a little faster, her hand moving in perfect synchronicity to make sure his entire length was tended to. The grunts and heavy breaths he finally allowed himself to make only fueled her fire, coercing her to once more deep throat, grasping his thigh with her free hand at the sound of his torrid groan, then pulling away to gasp.

Inuyasha stopped her from continuing then, his amber eyes glowing heatedly as he bent forward and kissed her, one hand still in her hair while the other gently grasped her throat, pulling her up with him to a standing.

“Grab my phone. Careful not to unmute it.” He huskily instructed, and she smiled, obliging and holding it up at a perfect level while he kissed her, his tongue diving into her mouth to entice her further, leading her backwards. She’d assumed he was taking her down the hallway, but he swerved toward the kitchen, causing her to stumble slightly, and he chuckled at her before spinning her around and bending her over a kitchen counter.

Inuyasha lifted her dress over her ass to bunch on her low back, his girl a little too happy for her own good. Oh, but he’d be a fucking liar if he said he didn’t absolutely love that joyful, little moan she did with that gorgeous, sultry smile. Quickly, recognizing the tone his brother was taking, he snagged the phone from Kagome’s hand, unmuting it as he’d caught the tail end of the inquiry and pieced the rest together.

“No, Jaken cannot come out to this location. This is my project, and I don’t need him trying to tell me what to do.” He rolled his eyes, making sure to never halt his attentions to Kagome. He’d pushed her panties to the side, stroking her pussy with his fingers to test just how wet she was. Kagome practically melted in his palm, soaked, and while he spoke, he continued to lightly massage. “I don’t know why you hold him in such high regard. Even Myoga is more reputable than him.”

“He has more experience under his belt.”

“And more shit on his nose, the fucking ass kisser.”

“Inuyasha.”

“I said what I said. I don’t need help. Got anything else for me? I’ve got errands to run.”

“I’ve got a budget sheet for you. Five more minutes.”

“Hit me.” Inuyasha said levelly, muting his phone once more and placing it on the counter. Kagome was peeking at him over her shoulder, brown eyes large and doe-like. Giving in to the pleading stare, as if he had any will to resist, he quickly spit into his hand, rubbing the lubricant over his cock and pushing inside of her.

His beautiful girl sighed languidly, the edge rearing off into a breathy moan. He, himself, couldn’t bite back his own drawn out groan, her pussy hot and mind-rattling, engulfing all of his aching erection. He leaned forward, inadvertently pushing a little deeper as he whispered in her ear. “Not a noise, baby. Or, I’ll stop.”

Before she could nod in agreement, Inuyasha slid the phone directly in front of her face, tapping the mute button to release. Appalled, Kagome looked back at him, and the jerk winked, giving her a cheeky grin. He steadily rolled his hips against her, keeping the pace agonizingly slow, and while it was easier to maintain control over her voice, it was torturous. How did it still feel so incredible? Little-by-little, he increased his pace, but he never passed a certain point. He never fucked her. Whenever she’d think he was getting there, he’d slow down, progressively returning to his initial rhythm to build himself back up again. Nonetheless, Kagome found herself holding her breath, terrified that each time his brother paused it was because he’d heard any sort of hitch in her lungs. 

“I’m going to email this to you in a moment. Be sure to read it over. Understood?”

“If you were going to email it in the first place, why the hell did you have to sit here and read it to me?” Inuyasha retorted, leaning forward to cover Kagome’s mouth as he ground deeply into her, surprising even himself when he managed to keep his reaction to the mind numbing sensation in check. She’d arched her back, her hands planted on the counter surface, bending into his slight pull.

“Because, I can.”

“Prick.” He damn near grunted, having to stop all motion as he held his breath to regain composure. 

“Let me know who you want to fill in the role of manager. The sooner that’s decided on, the better.”

“Yeah. By the end of the week. Good?”

“Good.” 

Without a goodbye, the line beeped three times, signifying Sesshomaru had hung up, and Inuyasha wasted not even a second in sliding his fingers down from her mouth to her neck and thrusting into her. Hard. She moaned, the sensational noise laced with pent up aggravation from all she’d had to withhold the moment he’d taken her.

“What a good girl.” He taunted, now gliding his fingers through her messy hair to grip just the way she liked it. “He didn’t suspect a thing.”

“You’re so mean.” She whined, half smiling, half pouting from wanting more. “He could have heard me.”

“I knew you wouldn’t make a peep.” Inuyasha bit his bottom lip, the devilish grin doing something indescribable to her. “Besides, this is your fault. You did this to yourself. Didn’t you?”

“No.” Kagome coo’d.

“Didn’t you?” Inuyasha repeated, giving another deep thrust. The poor girl could only reply in a broken moan, and he released her hair, cautious of not pulling too hard, so he opted for a firm hold on her hips. With a couple more thrusts, she crumbled forward, her upper body sprawled over the counter as she took him in, her mouth hanging open and breathing erratic. 

Deciding to see how long he could get away with driving her mad, he lightened his touch, his tempo dragging, pushing the sundress further up her back so he had more skin play with. He could see it written all over her face and the way she raked her teeth over her lip, the way she tried to push back into him, and the way she still attempted to swallow her whines. He didn’t know how long he’d be able to keep this up thanks to the simple way she looked. He could feast on her for days, listen to her voice endlessly, making his mind whirl and his insides boil. Her messy hair was spread about, even somewhat covering parts of her beautiful face, and as she finally released her bottom lip to give a tantalizing whimper, he realized it was him that was being driven mad.

“You seemed to really like fucking around while I was on the phone.” He teased, bending over her slightly as he increased his rhythm a smidge. She sighed in response, and he knew his voice was doing something for her in that moment. She was tensing beneath him, trying to push back against his hips as a sign, but he pinned her still. “Maybe I should make another call.”

Swiftly, Kagome snagged his phone, still next to her head, sliding it clear across the counter where it was too far out of reach in a big fuck you. Inuyasha laughed, the move of hers completely unexpected, and when she reached back to playfully smack his arm, he reactively grabbed her wrist, bending her elbow and pinning her hand behind her back. She gave an airy gasp and without any further instigation, he grabbed her other wrist the same way, holding her captive and watching a beguiling and evocative smile grow on her face, her eyes coming alight.

Now, that was just unfair. He should have known she’d like something like this, but still. Who gave her the fucking right to be this goddamn jaw dropping? He’d stopped completely, taking every inch of her in, licking his lips at the delectable sight.

“Inuyasha?” Kagome breathed, barely peering over her shoulder.

“Yeah, baby?”

“Fuck me.”

Shit. How the hell could he say no to that? To her? “As you wish.” He grinned sinfully, using his grip on her arms as the perfect leverage to anchor himself while he built back up his momentum, done with his taunting as he finally surpassed his original stopping point. She felt so fucking good, sounded so fucking naughty, welcomed each buck and grind he had to offer with mindless and perfect reactions. Their skin clapped together, and he was gradually losing himself, clenching his grunts as he stirred her up.

He knew he was going to have to pull out soon. Kagome’s fingers quaked before him, furling and unfurling, her throat releasing melodic keens to how hard he fucked her. Inuyasha planned to go until he absolutely had to stop, his groans shifting to growls, shifting to husky gasps as it felt too fucking phenomenal. Harder. Quicker. He fucked her into the counter to the point where she held her breath, her jaw hanging agape and hands clenched shut, gratefully accepting the few sharp rolls of his hips before he pulled out, ready to jerk himself the rest of the way. Unsuspectingly, Kagome pushed off the counter and spun around, dropping to her knees and taking his cock into her mouth, pumping her head and hand back and forth. She’d caught him by surprise, bringing a feverish groan from his lips as he grasped her hair, cumming into her mouth.

His touch softened as he gradually came down, barely catching his breath while he watched her slide his dick out of her mouth, swallow, then glance up at him with a sweet smile. Inuyasha stroked back her disorderly bangs, leaning down some to cradle her jaw in his palms and guide her to stand before him, his lips immediately claiming hers in a well-deserved kiss. He pushed her back against the counter lining, swallowing her breathy gasp as his kiss intensified, one hand still holding her to him by the nape of her neck and the other lightly drifting over her shoulder, the straps still loose and fallen. She hadn’t finished; he wasn’t done with her yet.

Skillfully, Inuyasha grasped both sides of her waist, easily hoisting her up to sit on the countertop and pushing himself between her legs, stroking his fingers along her bare thighs as he went straight back to kissing her, his tongue gliding passed her lips to taste and lap her up. Kagome clung to him, her hands around his neck, not yet settling on placement as they dove into his short hair, grasped, skimmed down to his shoulders, his arms, his chest, clutching his shirt, then drove back to his neck. He shifted her dress higher up her legs as he slid beneath, teasing the flesh of her pelvis with a whisper of a graze and then fixing her panties to sit off to the side again. She couldn’t even get a sound out as he softly stroked his fingers within her folds, her body slightly tensing as she inhaled sharply. Her clit was swollen, and he gently rubbed it to see how sensitive she was. Kagome’s head lolled away from his kiss, exhaling dreamily, and the sound was so blissfully erotic. Inuyasha took to her neck, nipping and kissing, avoiding her sensitive spots completely to save them for last. Like her own personal expert, he massaged her, careful of his nails, shushing soothingly in her ear as she soon began to breathily whimper. His body was close, and he yet again held her at the back of her neck as he rubbed her clit, slowing here and there before increasing his attention slightly to help her build and build and build, and it was impossible for her to squirm too much, impossible for her to get away. She slurred a curse, one he’d never heard from her lips, and he took that as his cue, diving straight to the curve above her clavicle and sucking, licking, kissing. Kagome was beginning to shake, riding his hand where she could, her head falling back to accept all he offered and accidentally slamming against the cupboard door. She’d hardly reacted, unable to, but he laughed into his ministrations, adoring the way she couldn’t even jokingly smack his head to get him to shut up. A little harder, he rubbed her, pinned her to him, forcing her to take it all, biting slightly into her neck, and she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, breathing erratically, her whimpers hardly audible as her thighs clenched against his hips and her pussy convulsed beneath his touch. 

He chuckled as he was forced to stop riding out her orgasm, her clit clearly growing too sensitive too quickly when she jolted and squeaked. Letting her rest on him as she came down, catching her breath, Inuyasha softly kissed her head, raking his nails over her back to calm her.

“Better?” He murmured. She replied with a lazy hum, sitting straight and finally acknowledging the bump on the back of her head by rubbing her hand over it and scrunching her nose. Again, Inuyasha laughed, bringing her forward to inspect the area, himself. “You okay?”

Another hum of affirmation meshed with her own giggle, and he helped her down from the counter so she could stumble her way to the bathroom. And, when she emerged, he catered to her every want and need without decision, without thought; it all just came so naturally.

Because, truthfully, sadly, their end was drawing near. His goal was to not allow her to think about it as much as he did. He didn’t want her feeling any degree of stress while with him. He just wanted her happy. He desired her smile and laughter more than food and water. He wished for her tranquility more than he ever considered his own. If presented with an opportunity to shoulder the total weight, the hardships their separation was bound to bring, the sadness he feared, the anxiety, in exchange for her not feeling a morsel of it, he’d do it in a heartbeat. No questions asked, he’d do it.

But, that wasn’t possible, was it? He couldn’t take that away from her. He couldn’t protect her from this.

In the meantime, it was effortless to give her all of him. Like he was in a trance, wholly enraptured by Kagome, it was impossible to fight off any impulse to steal kisses or touch her soft skin. It was unacceptable to deny himself the simple pleasure of listening to her talk about little things that held her interest. Picking her up from her vacation spot was exciting, and taking her back always held the promise of later. When she ran to him from her own elation, jumping into his arms, he rapturously realized he was a sucker, and when she fell asleep beside him, sedated by his tender touch, he honestly felt like he couldn’t do this. How could he leave her? How could anything be more important than his soulmate?

Multiple nights in a row, Inuyasha had to rationalize with himself. He had to put together a mental list of why he had to do what he had to do. He was stuck in his own head, so much so he hadn’t even noticed Kagome’d awoken, notified only when she smoothed her finger over his crinkled brow as he stared intently at the ceiling. Immediately, he relaxed, glancing over at her, bemusement swiftly changing to a crooked grin. She laid on her side, continuing to lightly glide her fingers between his brow and over the bridge of his nose.

“What’s wrong?” She spoke softly, never ceasing her calming motion.

“Nothing. Go back to sleep.”

“You’re thinking about it, aren’t you?”

“Course not.”

“Liar.”

“Kagome -“

“Talk to me.”

“No.” His tone was almost pleading, wavering slightly.

“Talk to me.” She remained level, comforting, a simple smile pushing her cheeks, and she shifted her hand to caress his cheek.

Observing the sincerity in her eyes, he eventually conceded, rolling to his side to allow her affection to engulf him. Inuyasha scooted a little closer, pressing his forehead against hers, resisting his unstable shudder while he pushed the sheets aside and pulled up the shirt she borrowed from him, tracing the backs of his knuckles over her warm skin.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered, almost brokenly.

Physically feeling his sadness, Kagome’s heart grew heavy in her chest. She had no idea why he could possibly need to feel apologetic. “For what?”

“I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to fix this.”

“Baby -“

“I don’t know how to protect you, Kagome.”

“You don’t need to protect me from anything.” She shook her head against his, pushing softly into him to remind him she was right there.

“I don’t want you to be sad -“

“And, I don’t want you to be sad, either. But, think about it. What would it mean if I left with a smile? Being apart from you is going to be scary, and hard, and heartbreaking because being with you was more than I ever dreamt it would be. But, there isn’t a single part of me that believes this is the end for us. Do you?”

“No.” He breathed without an ounce of hesitation, the exhale alleviating some of the tightness in his chest. “No. Fuck, no. I could never let you go forever.”

“I hope not.” She smiled, ignoring the tears brimming in her eyes as she pressed a delicate kiss to his lips. “I understand, you know that right?”

He nodded, eyes closed, basking in her scent, the heat of her breath against his lips, his fingers tracing the exact spot he knew her tattoo was in thanks to the slightly raised lines from the heavy hand that’d inked her. “You know I’m not just going to drop you, right?” He countered. “I may not currently be able to commit to the amount of attentiveness in a relationship that you deserve, but I’m not going to leave you high and dry just to come back when I’m good and ready. I want updates from you. I want pictures. If I don’t respond, it’s only because I’m busy, but don’t ever think I’m ignoring you. Got it?”

Kagome nodded, smiling. “And, you’ll do the same for me?”

“Of course, I will. You’re as good as mine. Nothing’s gonna fucking change that. Literally nothing can.”

She hadn’t wanted to go to sleep after that. He could tell she was feeling it while covering her anxiety with a sleepy smile. He knew that no matter how much he swallowed so that she wouldn’t feel an ounce of disconcertment, she’d still wake up in the morning knowing it was her last, full day in town. And, he had to work through it.

He spent all hours of the night and early morning stroking her hair, caressing her skin, and she finally succumbed to sleep when she cuddled into his chest, right against his birthmark, and listened to his heartbeat until it lulled her away. Inuyasha remained awake, holding her, soaking her in as much as he could. No matter what she said, the promises they’d made, the question still repeated in his head to build torment in his chest: How could he leave her?

Inuyasha had turned off his alarm before it went off around six in the morning, slowly and gently rolling out of bed so as not to rouse the person who held his soul. His steps were silent as he crossed to the walk-in closet, and he hung in the doorway of it, leaning against the frame while he stared listlessly at the shadowed contents - not having bothered to turn on the light. He wasn’t sure just how long he’d stood there, the question so heavy in his gut that it threatened to make him sick. His fingers were unsteady, his throat felt like something thick had developed in the center, his chest ached, and then arms wrapped around his waist from behind, clearing his mind instantaneously.

He glanced over his shoulder, hardly able to see her from the way she hugged so close to his back. “You’re not supposed to be up yet.”

Kagome, still holding around his waist, maneuvered her way around him, and he lifted his arm out of her path so she could tuck her head into his chest. The pain he felt was gone, pushed aside by her angelic aura, and Inuyasha held her to him, kissing the top of her head.

“You okay?” He whispered. Kagome nodded, hugging him just a little tighter. He’d be a fool if he thought he’d be able to concentrate at work today, and an even bigger one if he let her go. He slipped a hand into the pocket of his sweats, pulling out his cell phone and calling the manager under his lead at this location. “Hey, I’ve got a pretty nasty case of food poisoning. Can you handle it on your own today?”

Kagome peeked up, surprised, ember eyes meeting hers contentedly.

“Good. I’ll check my emails here and there. Let me know if you have any questions.” And, he hung up the call, sliding his phone back into his pocket. He placed a sweet kiss to Kagome’s forehead, his fingers threading through her hair above her ears. “I’m all yours today, baby.”

Kagome smiled gratefully, her hands gliding to his waist where she gave him a little pull, getting him to guide her back to the bed. Their moments throughout were bittersweet, appreciated but anxiety-inducing as time ticked away, both of them content to make the best of what they had left. She’d never imagined she’d see Inuyasha look as wounded as he did, and never in her life did she ever want to see him have to mentally remind himself to smile again. Both of them were putting all they had into keeping composure, distracting the other from the obvious with playful remarks and endless love making.

She knew she was bound to cave soon. Bound to break. She just didn’t want it to be around him. His character would force him to want to make it better, and why should he try to take her pain away when she could hardly do the same for him?

Their sleep through the night was broken, pleasantly so. If one awoke, commonly due to their restless minds and straining hearts, they smoothed away their fears by kissing the other until they felt better, satiated for the moment. How could she leave him?

Come morning, as he drove her back, he’d offered to help her and her friends pack up, but she knew that would be the moment reality really set in. Her heart was pounding at the mere thought of seeing the house in the distance; she could only imagine what seeing the car packed up would do to her. Kindly, she declined, saying it wouldn’t take long and she’d come back to say goodbye before they hit the road. He seemed to understand, but still, the hitch in his tone caused her chest to throb.

“Promise?” Inuyasha asked, pulling up to the curb. Kagome unbuckled her seatbelt, leaning over the center column to kiss him, lingering, her sigh heated as she tried to solidify her assurance to him.

“I promise. I’ll let you know when we’re on our way, okay?” As she went to get out of the car, Inuyasha reached for her jaw, pulling her back to him as he deeply kissed her, stroking his thumb over her cheek as he felt her lean further into him. 

Each step toward the front door was heavy and forced, like the closer she got, the denser the invisible pool of sludge she wafted through became. With a deep breath, Kagome coerced herself inside, swallowing thickly to hide her troubles and sauntering through to the living area. Ayame, Sango, and Miroku all looked up at her, and though they attempted to appear casual, she could see the caution written all over their faces. 

“Where’s Koga?” She asked as normally as possible.

“Oh, uh, he had to head back a couple of days ago, remember? Football training is starting tomorrow, and he still needed to get a few things.” Ayame replied, smiling.

Kagome sighed, laughing lightly at herself. She’d forgotten. She’d even said goodbye to him, and she’d forgotten. “That’s right. What can I help with?”

“Well, we’ve got almost everything covered.” Sango mentioned softly. “I even started packing up your things a little bit for you. We can handle the rest.”

“Yeah, we’re almost ready to go.” Ayame added. Kagome froze, trying not to reveal her panic. She’d counted on spending at least a couple of hours getting things organized and strapped in the car, she’d counted on at least a couple of hours of cushion before she had to say goodbye.

She was reaching the end of her rope, her abdomen tensing as she struggled to seem put together in front of everyone, and she nodded with a forced smiling, saying she’d go get her things packed up before turning on her heel and heading to the bedroom. It was pretty clean, but she was so desperate for time, Kagome nearly debated on wrecking the room so she’d have no choice but to clean it up again. She wasn’t ready. She wasn’t ready.

Silencing her thoughts, Sango followed her into the bedroom, wearing a careful smile that she forced herself not to look at. “Hey, how’d it go?”

“We haven’t done it yet.” Kagome said, cursing herself for her inability to prevent her obviously wavering tone, lifting her suitcase onto the bed and throwing it open so she could empty the dresser of her clothes. “Is it okay if we stop at his house on the way?”

“Of course.” Sango firmly agreed with zero hesitation. She watched her friend’s unsettled movements, how her chin quivered, knowing she was hurting. She seemed antsy, shaky even, brown eyes bouncing unevenly from the dresser to her suitcase to the bathroom. “You want to talk about it?”

“I really, really don’t.” Kagome admitted, turning her head as her face scrunched with bottled anguish. She could see her best friend nod in her peripherals, taking a few steps back before heading out the opened door.

“I’ll be out here if you need anything, babe.” She offered, shutting it behind her.

“How is she?” Miroku asked, worried, stiff.

Sango shook her head, sighing, helplessly glancing to the floor, then to him. “Not good. She doesn’t want to talk.”

Ayame bit her bottom lip in concern, returning to the kitchen to continue packing up the leftover snacks. The tension in the house was sliceable, gloomy, all of them feeling sympathetic for the girl with the soulmate she couldn’t yet be with. Sango was about to begin putting the miscellaneous electronics they’d brought together, and as Miroku stood, catching her attention, she could tell by the look in his eye that his focus was glued to the person who definitely needed it most. He shook his head at her in a silent way to say not to stop him, and he made his way over to the closed room, walking through quietly.

Kagome could barely hold it in any longer, trying to blink away hot tears as she gathered the few bathroom things on the sink counter. Her features were crumbling as the ache in her chest increased more and more by each passing second, with each item she grabbed, with each step she took further away from him.

“Hey.”

She spun around, sniffling to clear away the immediate distress and sloppily wiping her hands over her cheeks. Miroku stood in front of the closed bedroom door, observing her with straight-laced empathy. She hadn’t even heard him enter. Still, she smiled weakly, about to veer the subject away from herself when he plainly shushed her, quickly closing the space between the to pull her into a hug.

Immediately, Kagome broke, wracked with sobs she couldn’t silence as she quaked against Miroku’s frame. His arms wrapped around her tight, supporting her, his chin propped atop her head as he let her cry, let her shatter with no pressure whatsoever to feign her equanimity. 

“It’s going to be okay, Kagome.” Miroku promised, never loosening his hold, and she, herself, tightened hers. “You’re soulmates; neither of you guys are going anywhere. Just as your time with him now was temporary, so will be your time apart.”

That seemed to calm her a bit, her breathing heavy and unsteady. Still, he didn’t let go, perfectly prepared and willing to stand with her as long as necessary.

“So many people are desperate to know their futures. They go to psychics, they read tarot, they spend money online for cheap, fraudulent readings only to walk away with virtual hope, but you don’t have that. You’re so fucking lucky, Kagome, because you know your future. You know where you’re going, and you know who you’ll end up with. Nothing’s for certain for most people, but for you, one thing is. One person is.”

Kagome was progressively stilling in his arms, sniffling but taking in every word he said. When she felt okay enough, she leaned back, glancing up at him, and her friend cradled her jaw compassionately.

“You guys have got your own things going right now, and that’s okay, but consider this: When he’s done and he comes back from Europe - or whatever the hell he’s doing - think of how much time he’ll have to devote to you. He seems smart. I mean, he knows how to pick ‘em.” Miroku smiled, cherishing his friend’s meek giggle. “That guy’s gonna sweep you off your feet and steal you away the moment he’s able to. You just have to be patient. And, that’s the hard part, I know. It’ll all work out, though.”

Kagome, though tears continued to fall, breathed in recovery, nodding in acknowledgment as she tucked herself back into his chest for another hug. She felt better, but weight still clung to her shoulders. The hardest part wasn’t over yet.

They locked up the house after several more walks through the place to make sure nothing was forgotten, and got themselves situated in the car; Sango and Ayame up front, and Miroku and Kagome in the back. With Kagome’s direction, she led them to Inuyasha’s place where Sango pulled up to the curb across the street, putting the gear in park, rolling down the windows, and then shutting off the engine. Ayame turned back to Kagome from the passenger seat, giving her a sympathetic smile.

“Take your time. Don’t rush anything.” She said, and Sango turned back to nod in agreement.

Kagome thanked them, jumping out of the car and safely crossing the street to enter his front gate, her heart throbbing with each step she took up the small walkway, up the two porch steps, and to the door where she knocked and waited. It was mere seconds before Inuyasha opened up, giving a friendly and subtle wave to her friends across the street and moving aside for Kagome to enter through.

He shut the door, a burning in his throat as everything became too real for comfort. She didn’t travel far at all, staying very close to his side in agonizing silence, her brown eyes not even able to meet his face. And, he didn’t fucking blame her. He knew this would be hard, but fucking shit, this was nothing short of brutal. 

Grabbing her hand, he guided her towards the living room so there was more room to breathe, though the thickness in his chest had made home for good. “Look, whatever you say, just don’t let it be ‘goodbye.’” He finally spoke, gruffly.

“I’m gonna miss you.” Kagome whispered, her bottom lip trembling. She began to fold, the pressure of her sadness robbing her of her breath and her stability. Inuyasha smoothed some hair behind her ear, seeming to attempt a meager smile, but he couldn’t. Still, his bright eyes met hers with honest sincerity, and his brow crinkled sorrowfully.

“You have no idea how much I’ll miss you.” He said. She began to cry, her cheeks flushing and her inhales broken. It hurt so much to see her like this. It hurt so much that in just a moment or two, he’d have to let her go. It hurt. It all hurt so fucking much, and his composure became increasingly rocky.

“We’ll still talk, right?”

“Of course, we will.” He reassured.

“And, you won’t forget about me?” Fuck, she sounded so fractured, it was killing him.

“What kind of a stupid question is that? Listen to me, Kagome.” Inuyasha started, pressing his forehead to hers. He softly wiped her tears away with his thumbs, cradling her face in his palms as she gripped the sides of his arms. “It’s going to be impossible to forget you. You are my soulmate. You’re my person. Distance isn’t going to change that. I promise, I’ll come back. I promise, we’ll make things work. We’ve just gotta get through this.”

“I know.” Kagome breathed, nodding against his head as she swallowed for some calmness. “I’m just scared to leave.”

“Why?”

“A part of me is terrified I’ll never see you again.” She cried, losing all sense of stillness as her body shook.

Inuyasha broke, because that’s exactly what he feared, too. He pulled her into a kiss, unable to stop himself from shaking against her body, his eyes burning as he shut them even tighter to prevent his own tears from spilling, but he failed. How could he leave her?

It was like she read his mind, shuddering and breaking apart from him, but never pulling passed an inch, her breath hot on his mouth. “You have to do this, though, and so do I. You have to become a partner at your father’s company, and I have to graduate from college.” She smiled, and though her cheeks were red and blustery, her cheeriness was still genuine. God, Inuyasha almost broke again. “When you come back and tell me you did it, I’m gonna be so proud of you! Just make sure you come back, okay? Come back. I’ll be waiting.”

“I’ll come back. I promise.”

“And, I’ll send you updates and pictures.”

“Good. That’s exactly what I want.” He chuckled, kissing her again as he pulled her impossibly closer. “You gotta be strong for me. This is gonna fucking suck, and we know it, but you don’t have to worry. You’ll see me again. I fucking swear it. I’ll send you pictures, too. We’ll video call when we can. I still have so much more to learn about you, you think I’m gonna pass that up?” Inuyasha wrapped his arms around her, kissing the top of her head as he tucked her into his chest, soaking in her scent in the hopes that it’d never leave him. Kagome’s arms encircled his waist, clutching the back of his shirt desperately as she breathed deeply to try and stop crying.

“I’m gonna miss you.” She repeated waveringly.

“I know, baby.” He shushed, holding her tighter. “Me, too.”

When they were ready, and he’d cleaned the evidence of her tears from her face, taking his time to be as tender as possible, he walked her out to the car, holding her hand the entire way. Her friends were quiet, playing respectful by not staring directly at them as Inuyasha twisted Kagome around before her car door, placing a lingering kiss to her forehead.

“Eventually, my forever.” He whispered.

A ripple went through Kagome’s chest, challenging her steadiness as she glanced up at him, smiling, and poking him right where his birthmark was beneath his shirt, whispering in return, “Soulmate. Forever.”

Inuyasha grinned, opening the door for her so she could climb in, and once her legs were out of the way, he shut it. He braced a hand on the open window, grazing his knuckles of the other under her chin so she’d look fully at him.

“I love you.” Inuyasha said. She smiled, her faltering giggle showing how close she was to breaking down again.

“I love you.” Kagome stated, placing her hand on top of his.

“You ready?”

“No.” She shook her head, chin quivering as her face slightly crinkled from fighting the tears.

Placidly, Inuyasha waited, knowing not a single person was bothered, and uncaring if they would have been. “Will you text me when you get home so I know you’re safe?”

Kagome nodded, squeezing his hand.

“Take care of her.” Inuyasha said to Sango just as she’d looked at him from her window.

“I will.” She replied with a gentle tone.

Kagome leaned toward him for one last kiss, and her soulmate didn’t pause in giving her what she wanted. What she needed. Parting bittersweetly, he wiped her tears again, taking every bit of her in as she took a deep breath.

“Ready.” Kagome whispered.

“That’s my strong girl. I’ll see you later, okay?”

“Okay.” She smiled weakly.

Their hands separated slowly, and when he was no longer there to touch, backing away to cross to his side of the street, Kagome began to feel completely empty. Blindly, for support, she reached over to Miroku and he quickly took her hand, squeezing it tight. Sango started the car, and Kagome’s eyes never left Inuyasha’s. He looked sad. He looked broken. He smiled.

“Ready?” Sango asked, looking back at Kagome.

She trembled, crying, then held her breath, giving Inuyasha the sweetest smile she could muster as she waved. “Yeah.” She whispered, and Sango shifted to drive, pulling from the curb.

She began to sob, trying to keep it to herself but Miroku pulled her to him, stroking her hair for as much comfort as he could provide.

Inuyasha watched until their car disappeared in the distance, tormented, terrified, loathing the universe and the cruel card they’d been dealt. How quickly he’d fallen, how quickly he’d shattered. He forced himself back inside, the furnished house feeling empty and lonely, and he feared that’s what life would be without her. His heart had sunken deep, and giving in, unable to bite it back any longer, Inuyasha cursed loudly with a choked sob, grabbing the nearest glass in the kitchen and smashing it against the wall.

| Epilogue |

[tabloidtoc]

National Enquirer, November 9

You can buy a copy of this issue for your very own at my eBay store: https://www.ebay.com/str/bradentonbooks

Cover: Duchess Kate sets the record straight on Prince Harry and Meghan Markle 

Page 2: Ben Affleck is wasting away and friends fear he’s taking his new health regimen too far as the six-foot-four star usually weighs 208 pounds but has shriveled to a spindly 165 -- a nutritionist put him on a sensible meal plan but he’s altered it with his own fantastical ideas such as he won’t go near bread and he’s ditched pasta and he’ll eat cantaloupe and blueberries one day and nuts and seeds the next and he’ll only drink boiled water and green tea for 24 hours then break his fast with a small bowl of quinoa -- instead of pumping iron he does exercises using his own body weight like ten-minute planks -- Ben thinks he looks great but his pals fear he’s traded one addiction for another

Page 3: Love-hungry Katie Holmes is thrilled to have a new man in her life but she’s breaking the bank to keep him happy because Katie is picking up the tab wherever she goes with Emilio Vitolo Jr. because it helps her feel she’s in full control of the relationship but Emilio may be taking advantage of Katie’s generosity because Katie has been showering him with designer clothes and jewelry and even paying for a personal trainer to whip him into shape -- Katie enjoys giving her guy things he can appreciate because he’s made her so happy but she may go broke doing it and it’s not like he doesn’t have any money; he’s worth a cool $1.5 million himself

Page 4: CNN rocked by sex scandal -- Jeffrey Toobin’s sleazy sex scandal has rocked CNN but it’s just the latest in a string of scandals at the network 

Page 5: Axed Fox News anchor Ed Henry fought back against his co-worker’s rape charges in a blockbuster lawsuit by handing the court explicit selfies and texts in an attempt to prove their tryst was consensual 

Page 6: Ryan Seacrest is downplaying his latest shocking absence from Live with Kelly and Ryan but the TV dynamo is battling a mystery illness that may force him to sign off for good -- the co-host who is a well known as a workaholic skipped out on the daytime show for the third time this year and used the coronavirus pandemic as his excuse -- Ryan was suffering badly from flu-like symptoms on the weekend before his absences but came back negative for coronavirus however doctors remain baffled by Ryan’s ongoing battles with exhaustion and weight loss and stroke-like symptoms, disgraced perv Bill Cosby’s latest mug shot shows he’s a shriveled shadow of his former self and the fallen funnyman flashed a maniacal grin while refusing to look into the camera in the picture snapped behind bars in September and he’s unshaven and his hair is ratty

Page 7: Lizzo has embarked on a radical vegan diet and extreme exercise program to save her life -- doctor warned the 350-pound singer that her daily intake of 5000 calories a day was a dangerous path to self-destruction and she needed to change her life or lose it and Lizzo finally got the message and is committed to this program but it’s been a living hell for her 

Page 8: After surviving a fiery crash at the Daytona 500 NASCAR hero Ryan Newman is locked in an ugly $50 million divorce showdown with his estranged wife -- Ryan and Kristina Newman split in 2019 after she was caught having an affair with another man and paying her love $450,000 and now Ryan’s lawyers are trying to freeze Kristina who was once referred to as the First Lady of NASCAR out of his fortune -- court papers reveal the two split in July 2019 when Kristina went to live with her boyfriend U.S. Army Captain Joe Schwankhaus who is the Chief Operations Officer of Kristina’s company VRX USA 

Page 9: Ellen DeGeneres debuted a high-flying pompadour hairstyle on her new talk show but the makeover still doesn’t get to the root of her recent problems and although her hair may be rising her show’s ratings are falling 

Page 10: Hot Shots -- pregnant Kelly Rowland, Andy Cohen took his son Benjamin for a stroll in NYC, Will Smith held court in L.A. while shooting King Richard a biopic about the dad of tennis greats Venus Williams and Serena Williams, Angela Bassett caught a drive-in screening of One Night in Miami in L.A. 

Page 11: Grieving Lisa Marie Presley has broken her silence over the suicide of her beloved only son Benjamin Keough saying her heart and soul went with him sharing her heartbreak on what would have been Ben’s 28th birthday and she added she’s dedicating herself to raising Ben’s twin half-sisters and actress sister Riley Keough, Chaka Khan refuses to duo with Ariana Grande again saying she’s not gonna do a song with no heifer -- Chaka and Ariana worked together in 2019 for the Charlie’s Angels soundtrack

Page 12: Straight Shuter -- DWTS pro Emma Slater kept a handle on her coffee while steering her e-bike (picture), it pays to be Brad Pitt’s girlfriend as his new squeeze Nicole Poturalski has doubled her modeling fees, dancing siblings Derek Hough and Julianne Hough are out of step over her sloppy personal life and his hot new judging career because these two were supposed to be the next Donny and Marie Osmond but his solo career is exploding while hers is falling apart, Madonna has always been a big believer in astrology but now she won’t even meet with people if it’s not written in the stars and she’s spending a fortune to have an army of people read her charts 

Page 13: Losing his beloved son to cancer has sparked new fears for fragile Robert Redford because Robert has struggled with his own health over the years and losing his son to bile-duct cancer is extremely worrying; he’s already frail and this has friends fearing the worst, Jeff Bridges is confident he’ll win his battle with lymphoma by coupling medical care with a strict vegan diet and chanting and spiritual healing techniques

Page 14: Convicted wife killer Scott Peterson may soon walk out of prison and grisly photos lawyers say could set him free -- following years of appeals California’s Supreme Court overturned Scott’s death penalty and now another appeal is forcing a lower court to reexamine his conviction for murdering seven months pregnant wife Laci Peterson and their unborn son Conner -- if Scott gets a retrial his legal team will be allowed to introduce new evidence including crime scene pictures that Scott’s former defense attorney said suggests Laci’s disappearance was an abduction by a satanic cult 

Page 15: Former child star Zachery Ty Bryan of Home Improvement was jailed overnight and released on $8500 bail following his bust for a fight with a galpal at an apartment complex in Eugene in Oregon -- the drama comes on the heels of Zachery’s split from wife Carly Matros the mom of his four kids

Page 16: Ryan Reynolds can’t wait to film a new rom-com with close pal Sandra Bullock but it’s causing tension with wife Blake Lively even though Blake trusts Ryan and would never forbid him from taking this part but the idea of him getting cozy with Sandra again still makes her uneasy -- now Ryan and Sandra are signed up to do The Lost City of D and despite Sandra’s denials they ever had a romance Ryan is gushing about them getting back together 

Page 17: Isolated and overlooked Today show host Hoda Kotb is being bullied off the morning show because of tepid ratings and the absence of former sidekick Kathie Lee Gifford and Mean Girls treatment by co-hosts Savannah Guthrie and Jenna Bush Hager have pushed the disillusioned anchor closer to the door -- Hoda recently filled out paperwork to adopt a third child and she’s clearly putting more emphasis on family than her career and it sends the signal she isn’t happy with her role and is not thinking of Today as her top priority, trainwreck Matthew Perry is holed up in his new Pacific Palisades beach pad  pounding out an explosive tell-all and his former Friends are quaking about what secrets he may reveal -- Matthew wants to rush the book out while interest in the Friends reunion special which was postponed by the COVID-19 pandemic remains high -- he knows an uncensored account of his time on Friends and his drug issues would be a bestseller and he intends to blow the lid off his on-set romances and address rumors he and Jennifer Aniston were more than friends 

Page 18: American Life -- her tall tale: I have the longest legs in the world 

Page 19: Jessica Simpson has been flaunting her body after dumping a shocking 100 pounds but buddies worry the drastic drop in size isn’t natural and suspect she’s been taking diet pills again and they’re worried this could escalate into a big issue

Page 20: Devastated Reese Witherspoon was hit with a depressing double whammy -- the death of her dog Pepper from cancer and the delay of her long-awaited sequel Legally Blonde 3, Hollywood Hookups -- John Cena and Shay Shariatzadeh wed, Ashley Hebert and J.P. Rosenbaum split, Cardi B and Offset on again

Page 21: Bruce Willis is back in another Die Hard but this time it’s a commercial for Advance Auto Parts and Die Hard batteries and it’s a clear statement on the state of his career that Bruce has to revisit his amazing past to make a fast buck in the present, Giada De Laurentiis has been given the green light to get married by her 12-year-old daughter Jade -- Giada has dated TV producer Shane Farley for five years and he’s been living with mother and daughter for five months during the pandemic lockdown which gave Jade a firsthand look at what it would be like to have a new daddy and Shane’s passed the test with flying colors 

Page 22: Cover Story -- Prince William’s heartsick wife Kate Middleton is breaking her silence about the royal family’s tumultuous bitter break with Prince Harry and Meghan Markle to set the record straight and save Britain’s monarchy and she’s tired of all the rumors and lies and backbiting and after all the drama and negativity she wants to get the truth out there and end this unprecedented crisis that’s endangering the monarchy’s survival -- friends are trying to convince Kate to do an official sit-down TV interview about what really happened between once-inseparable William and Harry and how Harry and Meghan tore the family apart even before they moved to America but Kate is resisting because she fears that could backfire like Princess Diana’s TV tell-all about her marriage to Prince Charles 25 years ago -- Kate had to turn the other cheek often after Meghan joined the family and she offered to help Meghan adjust to royal life from the start but Meghan rebuffed her and Kate in tired of Meghan painting her as the bad guy especially when it was Meghan’s antics that tore the family apart -- Kate also is upset that Harry and Meghan are portraying themselves as victims of a world that’s against them while she and William take on a phenomenal workload to cover the responsibilities the Sussexes left and losing precious time with their own three children and it’s hard not to be bitter but Kate is trying to take the high road and forgive Meghan and move forward

Page 26: With their marriage hanging by a thread Tori Spelling fears Dean McDermott will cheat on her again while filming a new TV show in Canada for six months; Tori wanted to bring their 5 children to Canada with him but Dean put her off saying it would be too distracting -- she’s been a jittery mess and he can’t stand to look at her and he only took this job because they need the money, Melanie Griffith is frustrated with Chris Martin and wants him to put a ring on her daughter Dakota Johnson’s finger -- the couple have been dating since 2017 and Melanie’s fed up with waiting for Chris to pop the question -- Melanie began to lose her patience after the couple reunited following a split last June when Chris won Dakota back with promises to settle down 

Page 28: COVID Vaccines: What you need to know

Page 32: Miley Cyrus claimed she once spotted a spaceship over Hollywood and even locked eyes with an alien but she also admits she’d bought weed wax from a guy in a van in front of a taco shop, whiny Kris Jenner is blaming social media for killing off Keeping Up with the Kardashians after it helped the reality TV clan make a mint

Page 34: Ozzy Osbourne is terrified a doll has cursed him -- Ozzy told son Jack Osbourne on their Osbournes Want to Believe show that Robert the doll was responsible for his recent bad luck and failing health, Tom Cruise and his Mission: Impossible 7 team caused chaos at an Italian hospital by filming there during the COVID-19 pandemic -- Tom and his crew including 100 security staffers plus trucks and other equipment descended on the Policlinico Umberto I in Rome for a week and legions of fans also flocked to the filming creating even more commotion in the streets outside the hospital and adding to the bedlam the production commandeered an elevator drawing criticism as hospital staff were treating 140 coronavirus patients with 12 in intensive care -- filming was done in an administrative section of the hospital but still sparked an official protest as well as complaints from trade union members

Page 36: Health Watch 

Page 38: Superhero screen pals of Chris Pratt rushed to rescue the actor’s reputation after he was mercilessly dragged into a silly social media meme when a Twitter user posted pictures of Chris Pratt and Chris Pine and Chris Hemsworth and Chris Evans captioned with the instruction one has to go but a flood of responses slammed Pratt as the worst Chris causing his Marvel co-stars to prop him up such as Zoe Saldana and Robert Downey Jr. and Mark Ruffalo and Jeremy Renner and Guardians of the Galaxy director James Gunn and Chris Pratt’s wife Katherine Schwarzenegger also bashed the social media bullies, Matthew McConaughey kept saying alright alright alright to making romantic comedies until the day he was so fed up he turned down $14.5 million to do another one -- Matthew revealed in his memoir that he didn’t mind making a string of mindless rom-coms because their paychecks rented the houses on the beach he ran shirtless on but he eventually wanted to try something else so he turned down a big payday so he could get more serious 

Page 42: Red Carpet -- Drew Barrymore 

Page 47: Odd List

[bbq-hawks-wings]

Um, if you’re not too busy can I please have a scenario or hcs of Hawks with a really empathetic s/o who becomes more and more worried about Hawks safety while infiltrating the league and feels upset whenever thinking about how stressed and worried he must feel too?

Hey wow, so this actually ended up being a whole-ass one shot. I was going to leave name spoilers for tomorrow, but close enough, so have fun!

 ~~~~~~~~~

“So what are plans for tonight?” You chirped over the phone whilst gathering your things for the ride home.

“Chicken and beer at the usual place?” You rolled your eyes, knowing that was how he’d answer you.

“We’ve been there four times this month, already. We can have that at home.”

“Ah, but Yasu-san’s is the best in the city!”

“If we’re going out to eat, let’s at least switch it up!”

“All right, all right. How about donburi?”

“I guess you’ll get your chicken one way or the other, huh?”

“Hey now, at least we’ll get our ow-” You heard him suddenly stop and what sounded like a swear under his breath. “Hey, babe, can I call you back? It’s, uh, work trying to get a hold of me… I’ll be back in a sec.” There was tension in his voice, perhaps an inkling of hesitation?

“O-ok.” And no sooner had the words left your mouth that you were hung up on. What was with him lately? He’d been dodgy and evasive for a while - canceling dates last minute, getting uncharacteristically possessive about his phone, and avoided talking about his day when he used to be open about it to an obnoxious degree. It had been going on for a while now and was so unlike him. 

Was… Was he cheating on you? No! There had to be other explanations…

You were snapped out of your daze by the ringtone going off in your hand. How long had you been just standing there? “Hey, sorry, babe. I know we were going to meet up and go to a place together, but I’ll have to meet you there instead.”

“Ah…” You couldn’t help but betray the sinking feeling in your gut.

“I’m sorry, angel. I know I haven’t been as available, but it’s only temporary, I promise!”

“Ok then.” You didn’t sound convinced.

“Go on and pick out a place and send it to me. I won’t be long! You know me!”

“Sure.” You hung up the phone and went over the background information you’d been accumulating over time. It had to just be in your head. The way he doted over and adored you, there’s no way he’d be cheating!

You flipped through some places to grab a bite and hovered over the button to send it to him when a thought overcame you. You had his personal email added onto your phone as a contact and in the moment you realized that you could see where he was going through his GPS.

No! It was a huge breach of privacy! You trusted him, right? And then you thought back to all the distractions he brought up whenever you confronted him about his behavior - how he always had an escape for every question you brought up.

You clutched your phone a moment before pulling up his location, the dot moving in real time as he undoubtedly was flying over the city. You weren’t sure where he was going, but you were close enough to follow, even on foot. If this all really was a misunderstanding he’d forgive you, right? And if it wasn’t… well, the ball would be in your court then. 

You gathered your things and flew as if carried on your own set of wings.

When you were stopped at a crossing, you sent him a meetup location so you didn’t seem suspicious, just out of the way enough to seem reasonable you were in the same neighborhood. 

You followed behind and even caught occasional glimpses of him high in the air at times, the red wings much harder to parse out in the setting sunlight, until finally the dot on your phone stood still and you could confirm he was at his destination. It was the back of an abandoned store?

There didn’t seem to be soul for miles around. What on earth was he doing here? Your heart pounded in your chest as you crept around to where he seemed to be - a dark alleyway that kept an already remote location away from prying eyes. You heard them before you saw them, and carefully rounded the corner to peek at what was happening. There he was, all right; but who was the hooded figure he was talking to? You couldn’t make out his face beneath the hood, but you could tell he was tall, and that whatever their relationship he and Hawks were NOT on good terms.

“-ot you what you wanted. I don’t exactly know what you plan to do with it, but I hope that just goes to show how seriously I take this.”

“Sure, sure, birdie.” He gave a shrug and a wry chuckle. “Tell ya the truth, I don’t even know what I’ll do with it.”

“Wh-” Hawks exhaled and spread his palms as if to physically drop the matter. “Let me guess, you’ll want -”

But at this point, you’d stopped noticing what they were talking about because in the course of their back and forth banter the hooded figure had glanced in your general direction, and you swore he locked eyes with you.

Something in his gaze made your more base survival instincts kick in - the kind that knows that when you’ve been caught by a life-threatening predator sometimes the best mode of action is to stay as still as possible and hope they fool themselves into believing they never saw you. And so it was for an agonizingly long time. Hawks seemed too preoccupied and distracted to pick up your racing heart, urgent breathing, and terrified quaking. You must have been panicked enough to be seeing things because you could swear that you and this mystery man shared some sinister, intimate exchange. You caught the turquoise blue color of his eyes, the slant of thin eyebrows peeking out from under straight black hair, and then you finally noticed the stitches somehow catching some stray glint of light in the twilight. Only after the last rays of warm yellow and red light tucked themselves away behind the horizon and the cool and menacing blues of the night crept out of the shadows did you finally notice the scars.

“Are you even listening to me?”

He lazily blinked and turned his attention back to the winged hero, but to you it felt as if a hand that had been clutching your throat finally let go and you did’t bother to stick around to hear the rest of their exchange. You knew not to scramble or run, it would only make you clumsy and you could not afford a mistake now! As you speed walked, careful not to stop your feet or breathe too heavily, you only caught the man’s fading reply in the background.

“Just a stray alley cat.”

You forgot about dinner plans. You forgot about everything Hawks had told you about being safe - about going to a public place and calling the police, a hero, him, anyone. You wanted to escape to the only place in your mind that felt safe at the moment, and place was home. When you felt sure enough you could bolt without being noticed you took off like a frightened rabbit and made your way home looking over your shoulder the whole way.

~~~~~

Hawks was worried when he went to your restaurant location to not see you there. He sat down, ordered a drink and sent you a text, assuming you were in the bathroom; but he couldn’t find your bag anywhere, and when he asked the staff they said no one matching your description had come into the building. One panicked assessment of the restaurant later and he confirmed that all bodies were accounted for and you weren’t one of them. He checked his phone again to see you hadn’t even seen his message yet, and you didn’t pick up when he called your phone.

In a panic, he called every acquaintance you shared to see if you’d maybe gone somewhere else as he headed to your home to check for you there. You were upset at him, right? He’d been pushing his luck keeping secrets from you without giving you some sort of reason to not suspect him. No, even in the worst cases you would at least tell him you were mad. You would never string him along like this and make him legitimately worry.

His panic rose to new heights as he got a call from a familiar number.

“What do yo-”

“I never took you as the cat type, birdy; but if I were you I’d put a bell on that little kitty in case she wanders off again.” The voice cut him off. “It’d be a shame if something happened to her. Strangers can be so cruel, after all.”

And then he hung up.

He landed on the balcony of his apartment, and fumbling with his keys he finally got the door open, ready to frantically search the apartment and call the police if it turned up empty. But thank god, there you were sitting with your arms tucked up to your knees on the couch. He barely had the mental presence to shake off his shoes when he stumbled in and threw his arms around you.

“(Y/N), my god, where have you been? What happened; I’ve been trying to reach you!”

You couldn’t look him in the eye. You gained a new sense of composure in his presence, but what you’d learned tonight weighed heavy on your mind.

“I-I…”

“What? Did something happen?”

“That was Dabi, wasn’t it?”

You could hear a pin drop in the silence. Everything was still, and the only sounds Hawks could hear was the throbbing of his own heartbeat in his eardrums.

“T-that, that was him. That was the League of Villains’ Dabi, right? The arsonist and murderer?” You rambled looking for a confirmation from him, but all that whirled in his head was Dabi’s threat. He’d seen you. He knew who you were. You weren’t safe now.

“Why were you talking with him? Are you working together?”

“(Y/N),” Hawks could barely see behind the anger and anxiety welling up in his chest. “Are you hurt, did-?”

“Keigo!!!”

He snapped to attention at his real name - only ever spoken from your lips any more. It was as if he’d been pulled from some sort of alternate dimension at the call. His vision cleared and he saw you place a hand on either side of his face as you looked him in the eye.

“Keigo… Are you working with the League of Villains?”

Oh how long had he been holding back the fear and the tension - the apprehension of how he knew he wasn’t a right fit for this mission but he had no other choice? It was all a bad dream, but it had become a night terror the moment you stepped into it. He all but collapsed into your touch as he put the pieces together in his head.

“You followed me?”

“Yes.”

“You saw him?”

“Yes, what’s going on?”

Finally, as voices calmed again and the exhaustion overtook you both, he gave you a straight answer. “Things’re bad, (Y/N). I can’t tell you much of anything, you’re too involved already; but by god if I could stop now I would.” You listened intently as he continued.

“I’m in some fucking deep shit,” The intensity and emotion escaping his lips surprised him. “and if I could back out I would. If I could wrap it up and send it off I would; but every time I think I make progress, the mark just gets further and further and further away. And today…” His voice trailed as he once more looked into your worried eyes, tears spilling over at the edges. This time he cupped your face in his hands. “Please, (Y/N), angel, I need you to promise - I need you to SWEAR that you’ll forget this ever happened. I need you to forget EVERYTHING you saw or heard. I keep telling myself this is for the best, but…” He let out a shudder, “I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you to it.”

There was some shared sobs as you hugged each other, the reality of the situation growing more grave with every moment.

“I wish you were cheating on me.” 

He gave a humorless chuckle. Was that suppose to make him laugh, or were you genuinely serious? “No matter what happens, I’ll make sure you’re taken care of, I swear!”

“Don’t talk like that!”

“It’s my job, angel. I don’t have a choice. If I wasn’t before, I’m definitely going to end this as soon as possible. The only way out at this point is through.”

[highsviolets]

of caf & conversations

pairing: non-toxic masculinity, wedge/luke if you squint

summary: “So, Luke Skywalker, hero of the Rebellion: what on earth is keeping you up at night?”

word count: 3k 

rating: G

A/N: lolol I said I would post the update for “steady” this week and then @blonde-avenger and I were talking and, well, this happened. I can never refuse Luke Skywalker shenanagins. Canon + Legends compliant.

OF CAF & CONVERSATIONS, a fic by corellians-only [read on AO3 | external references are linked]

Wedge felt a sharp dig in his ribs as he lifted his cup of caf to his lips. The slim pilot scowled as the precious liquid danced over the top of the metal cup and collided with his flight suit. A stain started blooming on the weighty fabric of his khaki-colored trousers, creating an intricate patchwork of splotches.

“Seriously, Tycho?” he asked, staring in askance at the blonde-haired human male sitting to his right. “What is so important that you couldn’t wait until I finished my caf?”

While the Rebellion was a self-defined group of informal group of fighters, politicians, and the galaxy’s strays that gave little thought to rank, Rogue Squadron was infamous for its blatant disregard for rules and regulations.

Be that as it may, a few unofficial ordinances that governed the squad of ace pilots to preserve what remains of my sanity, Luke had commented dryly a few months earlier, after a particularly colorful incident that featured commandeered Corellian whiskey, a broken ‘fresher unit, and Wes Janson’s bedsheets.

Rule number one: Never, ever, come between Wedge Antilles and his cup of caf.

Everyone knew that. General Jan Dodonna. High Command Leader Mon Mothma. Even roguish Han Solo respected the man’s right to enjoy his caf in peace. Captain Wedge Antilles’ devotion to the caffeinated drink was nearly as legendary as Rogue Squadron itself.

Tycho ignored Wedge’s griping, merely arching an eyebrow. He pointed to the opposite side of the rudimentary mess hall. In the dim light of the glow rods, Wedge could make out Luke Skywalker making his way towards them with a cup of caf in each hand.

“That’s Luke,” Wedge stated baldly, still peeved at the interruption.

Tycho sighed, a gentle sound that belied the fact that his patience was wearing thin. “I know, Wedge. I live with the man. So do you. Or are you confused on that front as well?”

Wedge rolled his eyes in response to his wingmate’s sarcasm. “What’s your point, O Noble and Wise One?”

“The point, my stubborn Corellian friend, is—”

“Wait, was Luke scheduled for a patrol?” Wedge cut him off.

“There we go. Knew the converters would fire up eventually.” Tycho sat back and nodded approvingly, crossing his arms as he did so. The heavy-duty winter uniform did nothing to hide the grace of his movements, a remnant of his Alderaanian uprising that not even harsh training at the Imperial Academy — or the irrevocable loss of his culture — could push aside.

From his relaxed position, Tycho extended a gloved hand and snatched Wedge’s cup, taking a sip of caf. He shuddered.

“Wedge, this is disgusting.” He thrust the offending beverage back into Wedge’s open hands, his tone hurt and betrayed, as though Wedge not properly sweetening his caf was a personal affront to Tycho’s sensibilities.

“That is not caf.” Tycho pointed at swirling black liquid. “That’s what Zraii uses to clean our X-wings.” He regarded Wedge with concern. “Are you sure Wes didn’t swap your cups again?”

“I don’t hear you complaining about how I take my caf when it makes me awake enough to cover your six.” Wedge shot back. “Besides, I’m not the one who worries about his hair in the middle of firefight.”

“If you’re done squabbling like an old married couple, you’re right, Wedge.” Derek “Hobbie” Klivian, another human male pilot from Ralltir, joined them, plopping down on the other side of Wedge.  

“I served a double patrol with Luke yesterday. Neither of us were scheduled for patrol today,” Hobbie added, discarding his outer layer.

Tycho winced in sympathy. Fourteen consecutive standard hours patrolling the Force-forsaken, freezing pile of bantha dung that was Hoth was dangerous, and not for the usual reasons. Hypothermia and avalanches were the most fearsome enemies on this planet — a far cry from the proton torpedoes and firefights that usually incited fear even in the most hardened of pilots.

Hobbie glanced up at Luke, who was rapidly closing in on the trio. “As far as I know, he was in meetings with High Command all day.”

“I don’t know,” mused Wedge. “I might prefer patrol to listening to politicians all day.” He frowned, considering the situation. “Then why is Luke wearing full gear? Is he crazy?”

Tycho shook his head, amused. “Stang if I know. But I’m glad you’ve finally caught on, boss.” He clapped Wedge on the shoulder in mock approval, a grin playing about his lips.

“Wait, am I the last one to notice this?” Wedge’s eyes darted from side to side, a look of incredulity spreading across his features. He was the squadron’s executive officer. Taking care of his pilots was not only his job, it was a source of pride — and if Luke was technically his commanding officer, well, that was a matter of semantics. And Rebels didn’t care much for those.

“Well, I wouldn’t say the last,” Hobbie inserted pragmatically. “I don’t think Wes knows.”

Wedge fixed him with a hard stare, not appreciating the comparison with the accident-prone pilot. “That’s not saying much, Hobbie.”

He shrugged apathetically. “Doesn’t make it any less true.”

Tycho motioned with his hands in a be quiet motion as Luke approached. “Good evening, Commander,” he greeted Luke pleasantly, his tone abandoning its previous mischievousness.

“Hello, Tycho,” Luke responded in kind, his blue eyes clear despite the sheen of weariness that stretched over his features. “Wedge. Hobbie. Good to see you.”

“Is there something out there, sir?” Wedge gestured with his free hand, the one that wasn’t clutching the cup of caf, to Luke’s quilted white coat.

The collar was turned up to provide maximum protection against the elements, and Luke had piled beige utility vest on top. A scarf fluttered from its haphazard perch around his neck, obscuring the rank cylinders that Wedge knew lay on the left breast pocket.

Luke’s face and sandy head of hair were the only bodily surfaces not completely swaddled in fabric of some sort. The whole ensemble — combined with his boyish good looks and gentle demeanor — had the effect of reducing Commander Luke Skywalker, destroyer of the Death Star, to something akin to a young porg.

“Another suspected meteor?” Tycho probed.

Luke’s brows bunched together. “Uh, no?” He shook his head. “Situation’s normal — as though the nine hells of Corellia had frozen over.” He shot a playful glance at Wedge. “You would know something about that, wouldn’t you, Wedge?”

He bent over and placed the extra cup on the table as he spoke, but the movement lacked its usual swiftness owing to the bulk of his gear. Tycho leaned over and pulled out a chair, and Luke sat, nodding at him gratefully. The lightsaber attached to his hip bumped against his leg as he sat, catching the reflection of the glow rods stationed strategically around the room. The movement drew Wedge’s eye, and it occurred to him absently that the antique weapon seemed to gleam even in the dull illumination of the mess hall.

“Actually, I don’t think he would, sir. The nine hells kicked him out, so the powers that be made him our problem.” Hobbie eyed Wedge’s cup warily. “Have you tasted his caf? No sane human can drink caf that strong.”

“When will you three get it in your heads that not every Corellian is a scoundrel?” Wedge asked. He pointed to himself. “My parents ran fueling station. No spice. No smuggling. No bribes.”

“Weren’t you raised by a smuggler after your parents died?” Luke asked suspiciously.

“Well, that doesn’t mean that I was a smuggler,” Wedge deflected. “Besides, I was already a teenager when Gus Tetra Station went up in flames. Booster Terrik didn’t exactly have to tuck me into bed at night.”

Luke snorted in amusement. “With logic like that, I was never a moisture farmer, I was just raised by one.”

Wedge sobered slightly. Like him, Luke’s parents had died, leaving him to be brought up by his next of kin. But Wedge was lucky. He had known his parents still reflected on fond memories from his childhood. Luke had enjoyed no such luxuries.

Tycho butted in before Wedge could change the topic. “I agree with Luke.” He began counting off on his fingers, naming each instance in turn. “So, you never helped him with accounts? Installed illegal parts on his ship? Owned belongings that had been declared contraband by the Diktat? Never went with him to meet a client?”

Sensing defeat, Wedge inclined his head. “Well, that may have happened. And I may have used his contacts to secure my first deals before I went to the Academy. But those were legitimate. I, personally, am not a smuggler.” He raised his chin in an act of defiance.

“Well, well, whatever shall we do with such a disloyal son of Corellia?” Hobbie asked in mock seriousness, as though he were presiding over a trial.

“He’s still a Rebel,” Luke pointed out mildly, sipping his caf. “I think that counts for something.”

Wedge cleared his throat in a desperate attempt to bring the conversation back under control. This was getting out of hand, and Wes Janson wasn’t even here.

“If there’s no patrol, sir, why are you wearing full gear?”

Luke started at the change in topic and then blushed, a delicate tinge of red sweeping across his cheeks even in the coolness of the hollowed out ice cavern. “It’s always best to be prepared, Wedge.”

Wedge met Tycho’s eyes and had a feeling that the puzzlement he saw etched on Tycho’s face mirrored his own.

“Sir, we haven’t seen action in days.” This time it was Hobbie who spoke. “Unless you know something we don’t…” his voice trailed off, the question lingering even as it went unsaid. Is Rogue being deployed?

Luke shook his head. “No, you know as much as I do, boys.”

The mood shifted palpably at his announcement. His pilots, Luke had learned, did not actively seek out conflict, but being grounded for more than a few days at a time tended to make them restless. And impatient, reckless pilots get killed, Luke reflected. Maybe I can get them scheduled for some supply runs. He filed away the suggestion to take up with High Command later.

“Okay, so if you can’t answer that, then why do you have two cups of caf? Are you planning on taking on the entire Imp vanguard by yourself? You never drink more than cup a day.” Luke’s XO indicated the cup on the table and its partner, now clenched around Luke’s gloved hands.

“C’mon, Wedge. If I wanted to take on the vanguard, I’d at least let you vape a few of your own.” Luke turned his head and grinned lightly at Tycho. “Leave Tycho here to clean up the mess and deal with this group of loca kung.”

“Hey! Watch who you’re insulting in — well, whatever language that is,” Hobbie protested weakly and turned to Tycho, hoping he would back up the beleaguered pilot.

“Don’t look at me.” Tycho lifted his hands in a gesture of surrender. “I wasn’t the one who insulted you.”

Wedge cocked his head. “Was that…Huttese, Luke?”

Blue eyes averted brown, fixating on some amorphous clump of snow directly above their table. “Maybe.”

Something about the gesture unnerved Wedge, and he began to examine Luke more closely.

Sure enough, Luke’s leg was bouncing, and his shoulders were hunched together, as though he could keep the warmth closer to his body by closing in on himself. He couldn’t see Luke’s hands, but Wedge would bet his last round of sabaac winnings that Luke’s knuckles were white underneath his gloves, latching onto the warmth provided by the caf in a vice grip.

And with the precision of an ion cannon, it all clicked into place. Heavy jacket. Moisture farmer. Two cups of caf. Huttese.

“Hey, Luke?”

“Yeah, Wedge?”

“When was the last time you slept?”

“Uh, last night, Wedge. You were there.” He sounded bemused.

“No,” Wedge corrected. “I saw you get into your bunk. I don’t know if you actually slept.”

“Well, I slept.”

“You sure?” Wedge pushed.

“Pretty sure, Captain.” Luke’s tone was firm, and Wedge winced at the use of his rank.

“Just making sure, Commander.” Wedge tossed back the rest of his caf. “Can’t have Rogue Leader operating on backwash fuel,” he added, as though the comment had been a casual afterthought.

Luke’s eyes widened, but he kept his tone even. “Is there something to suggest otherwise, Antilles?”

“Honestly, sir?” At Luke’s encouraging nod, Wedge shrugged. “A few things. The jacket. The caf.”

Luke’s blue eyes narrowed. “You knew I was’t sleeping because I wore a jacket and drank caf? And because you didn’t physically see me sleeping?”  

“Wedge knew you weren’t sleeping because he was stalking you, sir” Tycho put in, easing the tension that had settled over the group. “I, however, had a feeling that you weren’t sleeping because I haven’t seen you hug anyone in days.”

“Tycho?” asked Hobbie. “Shut up. That’s even creepier than Wedge’s assessment somehow. Luke doesn’t want to hear that.”

Hobbie turned to Luke. “I thought you weren’t sleeping because you didn’t make one joke about womp rats yesterday — not once, over the span of fourteen hours, with nothing to stare at but ice, did you mention those infernal creatures.”

Luke shook his head ruefully. “Am I really so obvious?” he questioned aloud.

His pilots looked at each other. “Yes,” they answered in unison.

Wedge met Luke’s gaze. “Look, Commander, we’re just concerned for you. As your friends, not as your pilots. We have every confidence in your ability to lead us, sir.”

Luke smiled wanly, and he looked older than his 22 years. “No cylinders, Captain,” he instructed softly, the fight having drained out of his voice.

Hobbie sighed dramatically and reached up to unpin his rank. “Oh, thank the Force. I hate having to dance around rank like we all haven’t seen each other —“

“Thanks for listening, Luke.” Tycho spoke over Hobbie’s sarcasm and placed a hand on Luke’s arm.

“I can’t very well ignore my best pilots, now, can I?” His blue eyes met Tycho’s own. “Especially when they’re my best friends.”

Tycho smiled.”That’s what we’re here for. He squeezed Luke’s arm before releasing his grip and leaning back into his chair once more. “So, Luke Skywalker, hero of the Rebellion: what on earth is keeping you up at night?”

“Well, we know it’s not women troubles,” Hobbie quipped, frowning when two pairs of eyes fixed him with a steely glare.

“Not. Helping,” seethed Wedge between gritted teeth.

Hobbie ignored him. “Well? Is it?” he queried Luke.

The younger pilot shook his head. “No.”

“Okay. Gambling debts? R2 unit can’t be repaired? Missing family member? A strangling feeling of impending doom?”

Luke shook his head at each suggestion. “None of the above. Although, I think the feeling of impending doom is just you, Hobbie.”

“A pity,” Hobbie returned wryly. “It does wonders for one’s health.”

Luke took a deep breath and released it slowly. “Honestly, guys? It’s not that deep. I’’m just really cold.”

“You can’t sleep because you’re cold?” Wedge blurted, unable to contain his incredulity.

“I’m from a desert planet with two suns, Wedge.” Luke’s voice held a hint of his regular self with the teasing. “What did you think would happen when you put me on a snow planet?”

Wedge exhaled slowly. “Well, when you put it like that —“

“—which I do —“

“that kinda makes sense,” he admitted.

Luke smirked. “Good to know I’m not barvy as well as sleep-deprived and freezing.”

Tycho placed his hands above his head. “Well, I gotta say, that’s kind of a relief, Luke. I thought you had combat fatigue or something. This is problem is a piece of ryshcate compared to that.”

He looked at Wedge. “Did I say it right?” he asked, referring to the invocation of the famous Corellian dessert.

Wedge shook his head. “Well, technically yes, but your pronunciation is atrocious. I think Gamorreans could say it better than you.”

“Gentlemen.” Hobbie extended his hands palm-first. “If we could return to the task at hand, I propose a simple solution.”

“I’m all ears,” Luke said seriously.

“Luke can’t sleep because he’s cold. What’s the simplest way to conserve heat? Stick close together. So, the three of us take turns bunking with Luke to conserve body heat and make sure our dear old Commander finally catches some shut-eye.” Hobbie stated his conclusion apathetically, as though he hadn’t just suggested what sounded suspiciously like a squadron-wide sleepover.

“Hobbie.” Tycho stated slowly. “You hate being close to people.”

Hobbie shrugged. “So get Dak to take my place. Does it matter who it is as long as it’s one of us and it means Luke can sleep?”

Wedge searched Luke’s face for signs of misgiving, but found none. “Are you okay with this?”

Luke considered. “Would you care even if I wasn’t?”

“You know I would.” Wedge’s voice was low and serious.

“Yeah, I’m okay with it.” Luke smiled brightly and met Wedge’s brown eyes. Even without reaching out in the Force, Luke could feel that Wedge was radiating warmth and concern.

“Well, it’s a plan then,” Tycho confirmed, looking between Wedge and Luke. “Wedge, you’re up first.” His eyes twinkled. “Time to take our dear old Commander to bed.”

Luke reached across the table and lightly punched Tycho in shoulder. “Hey, watch who you’re calling old.” He yawned, screwing up his face and rubbing his eyes as he did so. With a concentrated effort, he heaved onto his feat.

“Mind if we turned in?” he asked Wedge. “I know it’s relatively early but—“ Luke blushed for the second time that evening — “I really haven’t sleep in weeks.”

Wedge nodded. “Of course, Luke. Whatever you want.” He stood, matching Luke’s stance, and the two walked away, speaking softly.

Hobbie looked at Tycho, who was watching them with a grin on his face. “Did you do that on purpose?”

“If I didn’t, you’d never know.”

[tisfan]

Accountability

Title: Accountability Square: K2 - Bucky Barnes / Winter Soldier Warning: coffee shop AU, unrepentant fluff Pairing: Tony Stark/Bucky Barnes Summary: Tony wants to have a stable relationship by New Year’s Eve. Well, Bucky’s here to hold him accountable. Link: A03 Word Count: 2,199 For @tonystarkbingo and @aoifelaufeyson

A/n - not responsible for tooth decay.

“Coffee, Black, extra, extra large. And put a few shots in it,” Bucky’s first customer of the day said.

“Resolution?”

“Ton- what?”

“What’s your resolution, for New Years,” Bucky asked.

“You’re going to write that on my cup? You know you’re going to have people in here fighting for the cup of ‘go to the gym more’ by ten a.m.”

“It’s called accountability,” Bucky said, loftily. “If everyone sees you in the coffee shop with -- what did you say it was?”

“I didn’t. But-- I’d-- I had a shitty night, and my New Year’s kiss was a joke. I’d like to have a real relationship, this year.”

“Get a significant other,” Bucky wrote dutifully on the cup, then Bl, xxg 2sh on the side under it.

He handed the cup off to Sam, who started pulling shots and getting the drink line moving. Wanda rang up the sale, and Bucky went on to the next customer, who, true to SO’s prediction, had lose twenty pounds as their resolution. Not gonna happen if you keep drinking large lattes, extra whip, sugar.

Bucky’s idea started conversations; at least half a dozen people pulled out their phones when Call Mom More Often picked up her Americano. Two people found workout or walking partners. People lingered in the shop to talk about it; lingering people bought more coffee or muffins. And word spread, the way it tended to do. By lunch, the line was thirty deep.

“Man, I hate you,” Sam said, as Bucky passed yet another cup along.

(more under the cut)

Get an SO came up at least three times to get a refill, spending most of the morning poking his tablet industriously, taking advantage of the free wifi. In the relatively dead period just after lunch, while Bucky was clearing off tables, he asked, “So, how do you go about keeping people accountable?”

“Really? I don’t,” Bucky said. He picked up the chair, turned it around and straddled it. “You do it. Once you say it, and someone says it back to you, it’s halfway to being a fact.”

“Is that a fact?”

“It’s psychology,” Bucky said. “The power of saying things outloud.”

“Which is why you… work in a coffee shop, instead of having an office and clients on your couch?”

Bucky only chuckled. “I’m still in school, hot shot. Plus, I like my job. Talking to customers, getting to know people. Testing my threshold for some wall street tool’s dickish behavior. Means I’ll be able to handle him when he’s in my chair, wondering why he still ain’t got a date.”

Sig Other waved a hand near his forehead. “Yeah, okay, you got me. We’re square now?”

“Actually, no,” Bucky said. “Tell you what, why don’t you prove you’re being accountable. Bring your first dates here. Coffee shop meet ups are the thing, and I’ll see you’re taking my advice seriously.”

“You’re going to give me dating advice?”

“You can tell a lot about a person from what they order at the coffee shop,” Bucky told him.

“And what, pray, does my order say about me?”

“Mostly? That you should probably get more sleep. That whatever you do keeps you busy; you don’t have time to be fussy about your coffee. Black’s easy. Hard for someone else to fuck it up. You don’t strike me as the kind of coffee snob who wants black because he pretends he knows shit about the beans and roasting. You probably drink red wine, or scotch. Forget to eat more than you want to admit. And you don’t have very many close friends.”

By the time he was done bullshitting the guy -- playing Sherlock was fun, but it was no more true than Wanda and her tarot cards -- Sig Other’s eyes were huge.

“Okay, you convinced me,” he said. “I’ll bring my dates in. You tell me which ones to bring back.”

Bucky hadn’t actually expected Sig Other to come back, much less return with a date. He wasn’t even sure, after the first week of January was over, that he’d have remembered the guy. Waiting on more than five hundred customers a day, it took a lot of repeat business before he usually recognized anyone in more than that vague way of seeing thousands of faces. Even longer before he knew names.

But orders, for whatever reason--

“Oh, hey, Extra Grande, black, right?”

Those brilliant brown eyes, almost the same color as the heart of an espresso pull, lit up. “Hey, it’s the Accountability Guru,. Yeah, please. And--” He gestured and a very lovely woman stepped up behind him.

She was willow, brunette, and way overdressed for a coffee date. Her haircut probably cost more than Bucky made in tips during the day. She glanced up from her phone for a few moments to ponder the menu. “Raspberry latte,” she said. “With the art on it? And a biscotti.”

Bucky wrote the orders down, passed them on. “Do the swan,” he told Wanda. She was the best latte artist they had, not that many people bothered to look into their cups before heading out the door. Might as well give Sig Other a head start, right?  

He watched them between customers, Sig Other keeping a proper date-space for a first meeting, asking questions and appearing interested in her answers.

When she bothered to give them. Mostly she poked her phone. Took a picture of her latte. A selfie. A picture with Sig. Cackled over some responses to her social media of choice. Tipped her screen toward Sig a few times so he could share in the joke.

They stayed about twenty minutes, and then she got up and he saw her to the door and her taxi. A moment later, he was leaning on the pastry counter.

“No,” Bucky said, flatly.

“No?”

“She was dressed way too nice,” Bucky said. “She expected you to wine and dine her. She’s in it for the money. I assume there is some?”

“You could say,” Sig said. “You didn’t like her? She seemed friendly to me.”

“Oh, yeah, sure,” Bucky said, then turned his phone toward Sig. “She dissed out my coffee artist. Real friendly.”

It hadn’t taken him long to find the instagram, not when she tagged the shop by name. Run of the mill coffee art. There was more, mostly talking about her date, but Bucky didn’t bother to read that.

“I thought the swan was clever,” Sig said.

“Well, I don’t want to brag, but Wanda’s competed at the WBC, she’s not run-of-the-mill.”

“How is it bragging, when you’re praising her?”

“You want one to go?” Bucky asked, changing the subject.

“Yeah--” Sig paused a moment, then, “It’s Tony, thanks.”

Sam nudged him. “Your boy’s got another one.”

Bucky flicked his cigarette and took a long drag. “I’m on break. Another socialite?”

“Naw, if it was that boring shit, I’dda left you out here. He’s got a dude with him this time,” Sam said.

Bucky swallowed his mouthful of smoke and then choked on it. Well, that changed everything, didn’t it?

Except it didn’t.

“You oughta quit that nasty habit,” Sam said, and Bucky waved him off.

He snubbed his butt and tossed it in the ashbin out back. The alley was gross and smelled like stale coffee and rotten muffins, but at least he was allowed to smoke there. There weren’t lots of places left that allowed it.

Went inside, snuck a peek at the line. Sure enough, there was Tony, about ten back, with a good-looking blond guy. Like, underwear model good looking. And then Bucky got a better look at his face. Oh, god. That guy.

“Is that--”

“Yep.”

“What are we talking about?” Wanda wanted to know.

“Don’t bother trying to get blondie’s coffee right,” Sam told her. “He’ll spend the next twenty minutes telling you what you did wrong. Just pour him a cup and some cream, and then make him what he actually ordered. He never accepts the first one. No point in wasting your time.”

Tony got his usual, and then spend a moment behind blondie’s back making the ‘look at his guy’ gesture with both hands. Bucky’s mouth tipped up in his the customer is always full of shit smile.

Bucky poured Tony’s coffee, pulled a shot, and went around the side of the counter to give it to him, while blondie was describing how to put half a pump of sweetner in his cup. “Really? This guy? I didn’t know you were into dudes, or I wouldn’t have suggested that you give Heather another date last month.”

“Yeah, no I figured that out when we had a little discussion about Freddie Mercury,” Tony said. “You knew?”

Bucky bobbed his chin around. “I suspected. She’s said some shit, but-- eh. Some people just have a little bi-prejudice, doesn’t affect anybody much, unless they’re dating someone who is bi. Besides, she ticked off all your other boxes.”

“Well, if she’s not going to want to have a relationship because I might have, at some point, touched some other guy’s dick, then the rest of the boxes don’t matter.”

Trust Tony to say something like that, while Bucky was already thinking about the fact that Tony was actually into guys. Bucky shifted uncomfortably. Getting a chub while at work was awkward.

“So what’s wrong with Ty?” Tony looked over again, watching as Ty walked Wanda through the steps of pulling a shot, like she’d never done it before.

“He’s a mansplainer,” Bucky said. “He always knows everything, better than everyone.”

Tony chuckled. “I am, in actual facts, a genius.”

“Won’t matter,” Bucky said. “He’s the expert.”

“Could be good for a romp,” Tony said. “Experts can be great lovers.”

“Until he starts telling you everything you’re doing wrong,” Bucky pointed out.

Tony looked offended, although Bucky wasn’t sure if it was directed at him, or at Ty for not-yet-occurring critique of Tony’s bed skills. “We’ll see,” Tony said.

“You’re planning to make pancakes for breakfast?” Bucky wasn’t jealous, he wasn’t. Not that it hadn’t been a while since he’d gotten laid, that was irrelevant. Just--

“It’s been looking good, so far,” Tony said.

“Well, have fun,” Bucky said, his smile coming naturally to his face. Yay customer service job.

“I plan to,” Tony said.

“Coffee, black.”

“Tony?”

“You were right, if you want to tell me so,” Tony said. “But, coffee first?” His eyes were bloodshot, as if he’d been drinking heavily, or crying. Or both.

“Sure, sure,” Bucky said. He added two shots to the mix. “Here, come on, it’s on the house, are you--”

Sam waved at him. I got this.

“-- are you okay?”

Tony held up his hand and waggled it back and forth. “We had a big fight,” he said. “It, uh, didn’t end well. But hey, I had almost three months of a relationship. Well, a little more than two, at least. Too bad it’s freaking October. I’m… running out of time.”

“You’re not running out of time,” Bucky told him, scoffing. “You’re in your prime. Plenty of time to find someone, settle down.”

“I mean, I know,” Tony said, sinking down in his chair, “that I don’t need someone to make me happy, that my life has meaning and value. And just because I’m alone, it doesn’t mean I’m unlovable. See, I’ve been talking to my therapist, right.”

“Well, no,” Bucky said, hesitant. Tony thought he was unlovable? He was the most interesting person that Bucky knew. “You’re pretty damn amazing, actually. Smart and sexy, funny. You’re interesting, you’re unabashedly nerdy, and enthusiastic about your geekiness. But not a gatekeeper. Really, Stone didn’t deserve you. He was a dick. I think you’re a hell of a catch, and I don’t understand why people are bein’ so dense about it. I--” would totally date you.

“Yeah, no, I’m-- I’m just not seeing it,” Tony said, and he turned his phone around to show Bucky a hungover frownie face selfie. “Not… just not happening this year. I’m done. Accountability shows that I tried, but this year is just another fucking washout.”

“Um…” Bucky licked his lip, hesitating. “Uh, maybe it’s not?”

“Yeah, why, what do you think, the perfect person’s going to just plop themselves in my lap? I mean, I know you work in a coffee shop--” Tony pushed his chair away from the table. “-- and you’re apparently delusional enough to be a romantic, but--”

Bucky stood up, took a deep breath--

--and plopped himself into Tony’s lap.

“I am an incurable romantic. I do work in a coffee shop, and maybe the perfect person for you is absolutely going to throw themselves in your lap.”

Please God, let this work, because otherwise, this is the stupidest thing I’ve ever done in my life.

Tony almost dropped him, before scrambling to get an arm around Bucky’s waist. “Wh-- oh. Oh. Oh, my god.”

“Would you, erm… like to go out? I know a great coffee shop--”

Tony blinked a few times. Then his arm tightened on Bucky’s waist. “Yeah, yeah, I think I might like that. Wouldn’t want to, you know, fail in my resolution.”

“Don’t worry,” Bucky said. “I’ll hold you accountable.”

[roseymoseyberry]

Juxtapositional Affection (gift fic)

Happy new year, y’all! Starting it off with a @secretsolenoid​ for Libby! Honestly all their prompts were *chef kiss* but I couldn’t help being drawn to their Rodimus/Thunderclash one asking for “Roddy finally getting some love and appreciation because LL 25 made me sad”

Because listen. I’ve wanted to write these boys for a while. And LL 25 also made me sad and I’m always ready to write fix-it fic for it at the drop of a hat.

So to you, Libby, you wonderful brilliant mind you. I hope you like it!!

Franchise: TFIDW/MTMTE/LL

Ship: Rodimus/Thunderclash

Rating/Warnings: PG-13 for some references to interface (but it doesn’t happen in the fic), swearing, and some drinking of robot alcohol. Other warnings/relevant tags include Lost Light 25 spoilers and hurt/comfort (heavy on the comfort)

Link to read it over on AO3!

Summary:

“I don’t think that’s possible.”

“What? That I could manage to under and oversell myself? Because I assure you it’s very possible.”

“I don’t think it’s possible to oversell yourself, Rodimus. You’re incredible.”

“May I join you?”

Rodimus’s helm shot up from where it had dipped while lost in his thoughts, vision blurry for a second before his optics found focus. He already knew who he was looking at even before they had though. To say that Thunderclash’s color choices were distinctive was, by Rodimus’s estimate, an understatement.

Suited his name at least.

Rodimus snorted, amused by his own thought.

“Would be rude of me to say no at this point, wouldn’t it?” Rodimus said dismissively as he turned back to his untouched drink on the bar.

Thunderclash didn’t jump at the opening. He didn’t move much at all in fact, still just standing there.

“I don’t want to intrude.”

“Can’t be worse company than drinking alone.”

“Nevertheless, it wasn’t my intension to--”

Rodimus pinched the bridge of his nose and ex-vented tiredly before cutting Thunderclash off, saying, “Just sit down. Or don’t. I really don’t care.”

A lie, judging by the small kernel of elation that bloomed in his chest when Thunderclash pulled the stool next to him out to sit on, but Thunderclash didn’t need to know that. Frankly, nobody needed to know how lonely Rodimus had become that he was happy to be with Thunderclash of all mechs.

Rodimus tipped his helm back and emptied his drink in one go to chase the thought away. It burned, but he didn’t mind so much by the time he was finished and slammed the cube down with a clatter.

Thunderclash was watching him with bright optics and a small little frown pulling at his full lips.

Instead of voicing concern though, he wisely asked a more general, “How have you been, Rodimus?”

Rodimus shrugged, fiddling with his now empty cube with one servo while he braced his cheek on the other.

“Oh, you know. Taking a break from divine quests to do some soul searching, and when that becomes too mind-numbingly depressing I take breaks by helping with Megatron’s trial, which is just a barrel of fun. So, you know. Fine. You?”

Rodimus had expected the frown to deepen; to receive an earful of overly sympathetic prattle; to have pity roll over him like the worst kind of flood.

But, instead, Thunderclash huffed with understanding.

“Just about the same, though without the trial. Instead I’ve used my soul-searching breaks to plan a way out of it altogether since I’m not sure I can take much more.”

Rodimus blinked before lifting his helm off his servo, asking, “A plan? You find another map in another Matrix or something?”

It was a joke, but Rodimus knew he sounded more hopeful than he had intended.

But Thunderclash shook his helm.

“No, nothing so divine as that. Just a ship and contacts who would be able to connect me with jobs that need doing.”

Rodimus put the cube down and turned on his stool to face Thunderclash. His knees brushed against the other mech’s thigh, but Rodimus paid it little mind as he said, “Wait, wait, wait. You’re planning on become some sort of spacefaring errand boy?”

Thunderclash actually looked a bit abashed as he confirmed, “I wouldn’t put it that way, but I suppose so. At least until something more substantial comes along.” It was only when Thunderclash lifted his cube to his lips, no doubt looking for a chance to better gather his thoughts, that Rodimus happened to notice it.

Thunderclash’s cube was already rather small – a cocktail of some sort – but in Thunderclash’s large hand it was nearly comical.

Apparently comical enough that Rodimus caught himself snickering tipsily. When Thunderclash looked back at him, frowning, Rodimus realized how it must have come across, and stammered, “No, that’s not – it’s not the errand boy thing. It’s your servos and how small the cube looks in ‘em. It just struck me as funny, and ho boy, the timing of noticing that could not have been worse, huh?”

Thunderclash blinked at him again before, softly and warmly, chuckling as he lifted his servo.

“I suppose I do look rather silly, don’t I?”

“Very. Also, that cube looks way too small in your servo,” Rodimus quipped, and when that just got another startled chuckle, he added, “Also, I’m overcharged so you really can’t hold anything I’m saying against me anyway.”

“I’ll have to keep that in mind,” Thunderclash replied, lifting the drink to sip from again.

Maybe it was the engex settling in, but Rodimus’s frame eased a little bit, his spark warming with the surprisingly pleasant company.

Yeah, it had to be the engex.

It definitely wasn’t the very idea that maybe he and Thunderclash had something in common.

“So. Spacefaring errand boy. You think that gig is gonna be enough to keep your mind off the horror that is soul searching?” Rodimus asked.

Thunderclash didn’t reply right away. He tilted his helm a bit as he put his cube down, the lines of his face straightening as he gave it serious thought.

And alright. Yes. He was handsome.

“I don’t know for certain that it will be,” Thunderclash admitted as he peered down at his drink, “but, for as painful as it can be, the soul searching did reveal some things.”

“Yeah? What did that particular torture session manage to pull out?”

Thunderclash’s lips curled just enough to be considered a smile, though to call it a happy expression was a stretch. “I realized that yes, certainly, I would prefer to have a more important goal than simply running errands. I feel more at ease when I know my task is meaningful and true. But more than that, I think…” Thunderclash trailed off for a moment, optics glancing at Rodimus briefly before returning to his cube, the smile slipping away. “I think that’s all that those things gave me. If I’m following Primus, or the Autobot cause, or moral obligation, there is reassurance that I’m doing good. There’s no room for my own doubts.”

Rodimus swore his spark was choking him.

“Yeah?”

“Yes. I suspect that the grandiosity of the goals has never been truly why I enjoyed my quests. Rather, the journey and the ones I shared it with – that, above anything else, is truly what I loved.”

There was silence then – well, as silent as a half-filled bar could be considering the din of conversation and laughter that drifted around them. But none of it could truly penetrate the tension that hung between them.

And then Thunderclash huffed an ex-vent, apologetic as he said, “I hadn’t meant to get so serious.”

“No, no, that’s--” Rodimus closed his mouth, swallowed, and then reached up to rub the back of his neck as he said, “I get it. I—yeah. I get it. I really get it.”

Thunderclash finally looked up, their optics meeting, and—

And he smiled.

“I had hoped you might understand.”

And Rodimus laughed, short and genuine, shaking his helm as he spun in his seat back towards the bar.

“What?”

Rodimus looked back at Thunderclash sidelong as he lifted his servo, waving down the bartender. If his night was going to involve spiraling down a drain of commiseration with Thunderclash about getting planet bound while simultaneously trying to ignore how Thunderclash was actually relatable and consequently suddenly so much more attractive, then he was going to need another drink. “What ‘what’?”

“What do you find so funny about that?”

“I told you. I’m overcharged. Can’t be held accountable for what I say or any inappropriate laughing.”

“I can still ask why though, can’t I?”

Rodimus shrugged as his attention was halved between Thunderclash and the bartender down the line. “Another of the same,” he asked, and the bartender nodded in understanding. But then their optics drifted to Rodimus’s drinking partner, going wide and bright, and the bartender scrambled for the drink wall.

“You can, I guess,” Rodimus finally said as he turned back to Thunderclash. “Maybe I find the idea that a big fancy hero like you would want to relate with somebody like me to be funny.”

The space between Thunderclash’s optics furrowed as he frowned.

“What?”

Rodimus gestured with a thumb towards the bartender over his shoulder. “Take stuff like that. I’ve been here all night, no biggie, but right now? I can promise you that bartender is coming back with a free drink and it’s for you because one look and they’re swooning.”

Rodimus wasn’t sure exactly what he had thought Thunderclash’s response to that would be. But flustered hadn’t been it.

“No. No. That’s not true--”

Rodimus’s cube hit the bar along with a little cube just like the one Thunderclash already held in his servo, served with a wide, spellbound smile.

Rodimus smirked in victory as Thunderclash looked between him and the bartender, thanking them before forcing shanix into their servo for the drink. He looked, of all things, slightly miserable. When finally the bartender was gone, Thunderclash frowned.

“Fine. I’ll admit there is a…” Thunderclash paused as he seemed to consider his words before finally saying, “An unwarranted hero worship that follows me around. But I think you sell yourself far too short, Rodimus.”

“Only when I’m not overselling myself,” Rodimus replied before sipping at his drink.

“I don’t think that’s possible.”

“What? That I could manage to under and oversell myself? Because I assure you it’s very possible.”

“I don’t think it’s possible to oversell yourself, Rodimus. You’re incredible.”

Rodimus nearly choked on his own oral lubricant. Thunderclash had sounded so genuine, and now looking at him, Thunderclash looked at him so genuinely.

Rodimus blinked, aware that his face was showcasing his surprise for the whole room to see.

“You’re serious.”

“Very.”

“I swear I’m not fishing for compliments, I just really need you to explain yourself. Immediately.”

Where Thunderclash had looked so torn about being doted upon, now he lit up like a new born star, optics bright and back straightening.

“Rodimus, you’re a Prime. You are literally so pure of spark that the Matrix accepted you wholly to make you a Prime. That alone should be proof enough that you’re an incredible mech.”

“That’s—that’s so not how it works. And besides, you’ve had the Matrix too.”

“As a carrier and a carrier alone,” Thunderclash was quick to argue, servo lifting to his chest. “It was certainly an honor to be entrusted with protecting such a holy relic, but I was a vessel for the Matrix and nothing more. I never communed with Primus like you have.”

Rodimus shifted on his stool, spark warming where it squirmed in his chest, and he wasn’t sure if it was from remembering how wonderful it had been communing with the Matrix, or if it was the sheer reverence with which Thunderclash looked at him.

“You could have if you’d wanted.”

“Oh, I doubt that very much,” Thunderclash said with a casual shake of his helm, sounding almost amused, as if Rodimus had made a joke.

Rodimus’s jaw dropped as he stared at Thunderclash’s face, realizing aloud, “Holy frag. This whole humble shtick of yours is actually real.”

“I’m just being honest.”

“What you are is neurotic and honestly? It’s kind of a relief,” Rodimus said, laughing in disbelief and shaking his head. Before Thunderclash could disagree though, Rodimus plowed ahead, saying, “But alright, fine, I’ll give you your Prime worship moment. That’s an easy pull though, so you’re gonna have to dig deeper than that if you want to convince me.”

“You say that like it’s a challenge,” Thunderclash replied, smiling warmly, sweetly, adoringly. He lifted one of his big servos, lifting a finger with each point as he started, “You’re endlessly brave, charismatic enough that your mere presence crushes personality ticks, strong enough to make hard decisions others would wilt under, determined and driven as hell--”

“Ok, ok, that’s enough--”

“—You’re a talented orator with so much earnestness to your speeches that you move mechs to do the impossible, you’re absolutely stunning to behold, your ability to withstand such high temperatures makes me very suspicious you must be an outlier of some sort--”

“Enough!” Rodimus insisted, shoving at Thunderclash’s shoulder even as he laughed, less from humor and more from the bubbling heat suffusing his frame from his spark outward, flattered and appreciated and flustered in turn. He was pretty sure if he let Thunderclash get any further, he would burst into flames right there in the middle of the bar. “You’re so embarrassing. And—did you just say that I’m hot?”

Thunderclash blinked, mouth closing and opening again, before he started, “I just pointed out that you’re able to withstand hot temperatures--”

“Before that.”

“You’re a talented orator--”

“Nuh uh, you’re not getting out of this one,” Rodimus insisted, grinning as he leaned sideways and elbowed Thunderclash. “Come on, let me savor it. It’s not every day The Thunderclash says you’re easy on the optics.”

Thunderclash’s gaze strayed from Rodimus’s face to where his servos fiddled with the small cube in their grasp.

“Very easy on the optics,” he finally confirmed as he glanced back at Rodimus again briefly. And Rodimus swore there was a small smile curling at the corner of Thunderclash’s lips.

It was a very cute smile.

Rodimus felt something flutter within him and the heat of his frame started to creep up his cheeks.

“Why, Captain Thunderclash, did you come over here with the intension of taking me home with you?” Rodimus asked, voice full of teasing demureness.

Thunderclash’s optics went wide, flaring as his servos clenched tight, completely encasing the cube within them as every inch of his frame screamed backtracking.

“No, that was not my intention.”

“Really? Because you look pretty nervous there, buddy,” Rodimus pushed, leaning closer so his shoulder pressed to Thunderclash’s arm, his knee grazing Thunderclash’s thigh. His optics were fully focused on his drinking partner now, intent on finding the actual answer to his question.

Thunderclash swallowed heavily before saying, “My personal affections, be they as they may, were not the reason I came here tonight.”

Rodimus stilled, his processor stalling on what was, essentially, an admittance wrapped up in a mystery.

And really, what did it say about him that Rodimus chose to follow the mystery instead of trying to come to terms with what Thunderclash’s ‘affections’ might entail?

“Then why did you?”

That actually made Thunderclash look even more nervous. After a moment of returning Rodimus’s gaze, he lifted the half-drunk cube in his servos and downed it in one large swallow. The cube was placed down much more gently than Rodimus’s had been, and then the second waiting cube was lifted and downed in two gulps.

Rodimus realized his optics must have gone wide and his jaw dropped from surprise.

Thunderclash’s optics were blazing with either engex or determination as he turned to face Rodimus fully.

“I want to ask you to join my ship.”

Rodimus blinked and his mouth moved soundlessly until he managed a weak, “What?”

“As my co-captain,” Thunderclash continued, his expression torn between hope and fear. “Whatever issues I may have had with who shared that position with you previously aside, it seems like a system I would like to try myself, and I would be honored if you joined me.”

“That’s…” Rodimus began before just as quickly he trailed off, not sure where to even begin. His processor whirled madly to understand while his spark throbbed in his chest hard enough it nearly hurt.

It seemed impossible.

It had to be impossible.

“That’s nice,” Rodimus started, forcing casual amusement into his tone as he tore his optics from Thunderclash’s to look at his drink, “But if you had wanted to frag, you really didn’t have to come up with this whole charade. The compliments were plenty enough to convince me.”

Thunderclash didn’t respond right away and Rodimus didn’t dare look at him. Every second that passed further cemented for Rodimus that that’s all this had been, an elaborate come on, nothing more--

“I do have feelings for you, Rodimus. To try to say otherwise would be a lie and that’s the last thing I intend to--”

Rodimus released his drink so he could drop his face into his servos, ex-venting exasperatedly as he interrupted, “Please don’t say it like that. You can just say you want to frag. Interface. Whatever.”

“But that’s not true,” Thunderclash insisted. “There is more to it than mere physical attraction.”

“Great. You wanna frag with feelings. And you know what?” Rodimus straightened up again, pinning Thunderclash with a pointed look, “Fine. Drop all this slag about ships and errands and being fragging co-captains. Just admit you’re picking me up and I’m all yours for the night. Deal?”

It didn’t work though.

If anything, Thunderclash’s frown deepened, his optics sad and frustrated and determined.

“I’m not fragging you tonight, Rodimus.”

Rodimus hated how the stern tone mixed with hearing Thunderclash curse actually had the very unintended effect of warming Rodimus’s systems. He really wouldn’t have minded at that point if they did frag. Found some dark corner and just felt something.

“You could. I’m saying yes.”

“That’s not what I’m asking.”

“Yeah, but what you say you’re asking is insane. And I know I called you neurotic earlier, but this is too much, even for you.”

Thunderclash’s mouth was a tight line, his gaze intense and calculating.

When he pushed his stool back and offered his servo, Rodimus assumed he had won, until Thunderclash said, “Come with me to the ship. See it for yourself.”

Rodimus looked down at the offered servo, so large that he realized his would probably look just as silly in it as the cube had.

It would look out of place.

But the large servo was warm and welcoming under Rodimus’s palm.

Thunderclash had insisted they walk instead of drive, citing their inebriation, and no amount of arguing would get him to shift into his alt mode. So finally Rodimus had settled for walking next to him.

It was late, but an early late – any mechs who didn’t have plans to be out for the night would be at home already, and any mech who did plan to be out wouldn’t be leaving to go home for hours yet. Besides the occasional group moving from one bar to another, Rodimus and Thunderclash were alone as they made their way across the neighborhoods.

And once Rodimus stopped questioning Thunderclash’s intentions, conversation became pleasant again. They talked about their shared acquaintances and friends, about travelling in space and the various shenanigans they had each gotten up to in those good old days, about how different Cybertron was, how difficult it was to find a place in it all.

Rodimus had almost been surprised when an actual ship appeared in front of them.

“It doesn’t have a name yet,” Thunderclash said as he palmed a panel beside the entrance. “I tend to overthink things like that and get wordy, so I hope you’ll do the honors.”

Rodimus snorted, still a bit tipsy as he looked up at the ship.

“So we’re really still acting like I’m going to be in there any longer than it takes to frag my processor out?”

Thunderclash sighed but didn’t bother to comment as he stepped back to gesture Rodimus go inside.

It was no Lost Light – or Vis Vitalis for that matter – but the ship was in, well, shipshape. New as far as Rodimus could see. If it wasn’t, it had been repaired and cleaned so thoroughly that it might as well have been. Approximately half the size of the Lost Light but it didn’t feel at all claustrophobic.

It was nice.

It looked like opportunity.

“Tell me you didn’t pay money for this old junker,” Rodimus teased despite himself. Even if Thunderclash couldn’t see through his sarcasm by now, the way that Rodimus looked around with wide optics as he let his digit tips trail along the wall no doubt would have.

Thunderclash was beaming from cheek to cheek when Rodimus happened to look back at him.

“It’s nice to be back on a ship again, isn’t it?”

“The only way it could be better is if you’d had the artificial gravity activated,” Rodimus admitted as he made his own way down the hallway, directionless but still quite sure he could find the bridge with quick, long strides. Every fiber of his being insisted he had to find the bridge immediately. “I don’t care how many smartaft scientists try to tell me it’s impossible to feel a difference. You so can.”

“It feels less… restrictive.”

Rodimus whipped around in the middle of the hallway, unperturbed when Thunderclash nearly walked into him, too busy grinning as he pointed up at Thunderclash.

“Yes! That’s it exactly! Primus, it’s like you’re in my fragging head,” Rodimus said before laughing and spinning on his heels again. “While you’re in there, mind telling me where the damn bridge is? I have to see that bridge.”

“You’re heading the right way. Just turn left at the fork,” Thunderclash explained as his heavy pedesteps thudded behind Rodimus again. He sounded nearly as excited as Rodimus did.

And then, finally, there it was.

Clean, spotless even, with consoles aplenty and cushioned chairs at each. Three large dark panes of glass dominated the entirety of the front half of the room, darkened by the shutters drawn across them while the ship was docked. But out in space—

Rodimus hadn’t realized he was moving until he was stood at the main console, digits light against the edges, resting where they would have were this his Lost Light. But his optics were wholly enchanted by the shuttered windows.

Because out in space those very windows would be filled with hundreds upon thousands upon millions of stars and planets and nebulae and galaxies, all glittering with their brilliant light, setting the the vast vacuum of space ablaze with their siren call.

And his spark felt full to bursting with the desperate longing to answer them.

“Do you like it?”

Rodimus managed to tear his gaze away to glance over his shoulder. Thunderclash stood to the side and just behind him, servos tucked behind the small of his back, watching him with optics bright with anticipation.

And Rodimus’s could feel his intake constrict with emotion.

“It’s beautiful.”

Thunderclash’s face lit up bright enough it could have been a glittering star all its own.

“It could be yours. Ours.”

And Rodimus swore his spark was going supernova.

“Holy frag. You’re actually serious.”

Thunderclash stepped up to his side and reached out his palm to the console. Immediately the computer whirred to life and the screen blinked on, welcoming Captain Thunderclash before starting to run diagnostics and spit out reports on the ship’s current status.

Not once did Thunderclash look away from Rodimus.

“I’ve already altered the program to accept a second captain. I’ll register you in the computer right now if that’s what you wish.”

Rodimus looked down at the console and Thunderclash’s large servo still pressed against it. His would look so small in comparison, but the console would accept him nonetheless. The ship would accept him.

His digits twitched where they just skimmed the edges.

“Why?” Rodimus finally asked, doubt and fear sparking into nameless frustration as he turned back to Thunderclash. “This ship is yours. Mechs will trip over themselves to join Thunderclash’s crew. In no time at all you could be off this planet and out there--” Rodimus gestured out towards the windows, out at the view they would have when the ship was where it belonged, “—and it would be all yours. The ship and the crew and the journey, all yours. Why would you want to share that with a disaster like me? Why would you want to tell anyone you share a ship with Rodimus Prime?”

But Thunderclash didn’t crumple this time. Yes, there was sorrow that marred the curve of his lips, but his optics were stern and his servo fisted against the screen.

“Because you’re incredible, Rodimus,” Thunderclash insisted, as if there was no room for argument.

And Rodimus didn’t know what else to do but lash out, snapping, “Oh, shut up,” because he couldn’t have this, didn’t deserve this. “You don’t know anything about me.”

When Rodimus tried to move his servos away from the console, to storm out, to leave this beautiful ship in Thunderclash’s big sure servos, one of those very servos darted from its place on the console to grasp his wrist.

“I know that life has been cruel to you,” Thunderclash blurted out. There was a simmering anger behind his words, but it wasn’t at Rodimus, not with the sad slant as of his features. It wouldn’t have taken much to slip from his grasp. “I can’t even begin to understand what it’s like to be you, Rodimus. But I can look at the facts, follow the sequence of events in your life, and see that you’ve been dealt a harsh life with impossible choices. No one would blame a mech for being crushed under the weight of any one of the burdens given to you, and yet  you’ve endured them all and you’re still here, and you’re still full of a youthfulness and drive that the rest of us have long lost, and that’s incredible. You’re incredible.”

Rodimus realized he should do something. Talk, or move, or something. But he was frozen to the spot, processor and spark stalling.

Thunderclash’s servo was so warm where it carefully cradled his wrist, and it was the only anchor Rodimus could find to keep him in the moment.

“How – how do you know?” When Thunderclash just made a soft inquiring noise, Rodimus managed to clarify, “My life. How would you know it was—was--?”

“I’ve admired you for quite a while, Rodimus,” Thunderclash interrupted, his servo squeezing in what might have been comfort. If Rodimus didn’t know better, he’d say that Thunderclash almost looked a little embarrassed. “I’ve—well. I guess you could say I’ve been a—an admirer since I first heard about you during the war.”

Rodimus stared at him.

And then, from somewhere deep down, Rodimus burst into laughter.

“Wait, you’re a fan? Are you fragging kidding me?” Rodimus asked, shaking his helm in disbelief.

And Thunderclash did continue to look more bashful -- and that alone was insane, that Thunderclash was bashful about him – but still he confirmed, “That would be a way to put it, I suppose.”

“You’re crazy. This is crazy. You’re Thunderclash. People keep signed and framed photos of you! The Big War Hero Thunderclash cannot, in any conceivable universe or timeline, be a fan of me. And I’m kind of an expert since I’ve been to a few so you can take my word on that.”

Thunderclash didn’t look the least bit convinced. In fact, he simply shrugged.

“I doubt that very much since it was only timing and circumstance that gave me my fame,” Thunderclash said, as if it were nothing. As if he wasn’t dismissing all the fanfare and hero worship that surrounded him as nothing but luck. “I had a long time to work through the mistakes of youth before the war was even on the horizon, and then my failures in war were accommodated because they were surrounded by similar one and thus lost in most mechs’ memories. I never had the sort of impossible decisions handed to me that you had, and so early in your life too.”

Emotion was back in Rodimus’s intake with a vengeance, threatening to choke him.

“You’re crazy.”

And Thunderclash simply smiled.

“I have little doubt that in different circumstance you could have easily surpassed my fame by megamiles. And in my opinion, you should have. You deserve it, not me.”

Thunderclash’s servo had relaxed enough around Rodimus’s wrist that the heel of his palm covered the back of Rodimus’s and his smallest digit brushed the heel of Rodimus’s palm. It was nothing for Rodimus to close his digits around that digit like a lifeline.

“I’ve done awful things.”

“We all have, Rodimus.”

“No, not just – not just fighting and killing. I mean—Nyon—”

Thunderclash’s grip tightened, squeezing comfortingly.

“An impossible decision with no right answer. Anyone who tries to guess what they might have done is full of slag.”

Rodimus was pretty sure his choked laugh sounded a little too much like a sob as he said, “Wow, first frag, now slag? Who knew Mister Big Hero had such a filthy mouth.”

Thunderclash’s chest was warm where Rodimus’s forehelm thudded against it and it didn’t move away which was a good sign. The way Thunderclash’s servo slowly and hesitantly moved from Rodimus’s wrist to his elbow was even better.

“So. You really don’t lie, huh?”

“I don’t make it a habit, no.”

“So you really want me to co-captain this ship with you.”

“I do.”

“And it’s not just because you’re disgustingly in love with me.”

Thunderclash’s spark throbbed hard enough for Rodimus to feel echoing through his chest and it brought a wobbly smile to his face.

“Gross. I can’t believe you’re in love with me. That’s so embarrassing.”

“I didn’t say that was true!”

“You give good hugs, Thunderclash?”

There was a beat, silence save for the softest whisper of a buzz from the ship computer.

Then Rodimus was pulled in close to Thunderclash by powerful arms and those huge servos wrapped around his back and his shoulder. Rodimus was tucked in to the angles and planes of Thunderclash’s frame, held tightly and warmly, and that hold only tightened when Rodimus slipped his own arms around Thunderclash to grasp at his back.

Thunderclash didn’t say a word about the slight tremors that raced through Rodimus as, slowly but surely, the emotions that had a vice grip around his spark melted away.

And even then, Rodimus lingered, basking in the gladly given affection.

“So?” Thunderclash murmured, gentle even as his voice hinted at teasing. “Your verdict?”

Rodimus shifted the barest amount possible to allow him to look up at Thunderclash. The larger mech’s back was bent so he was curved the slightest big over Rodimus.

“Not bad. I’m sure you’ll get it with some more practice.”

Thunderclash’s chest rumbled when he chuckled and Rodimus decided he really liked that.

“Now, I’m not a vain mech, but I know this is one area where I am actually rather talented, so I think you may be lying,” Thunderclash said.

Rodimus snorted in turn, but he relented, “Fine, fine, you win.”

And the resulting gorgeous slant of Thunderclash’s mouth when it was Rodimus he was smiling at was breathtaking.

It made him want to kiss Thunderclash stupid.

So Rodimus pushed up onto the tips of his pedes and did just that.

Thunderclash’s ventilations came to a sputtering stop. When Rodimus pulled back, Thunderclash’s optics were still wide open and overbright, his mouth slightly agape.

“I accept,” Rodimus said, and Thunderclash blinked stupidly at him.

“Accept?”

“The ship. Co-captaining. Keep up, won’t you?” Rodimus teased as he stepped back and out of the cradle of Thunderclash’s arms. “As far as that crush of yours goes, you still got some work ahead of you, buddy. I’m not an easy prize to win.”

Thunderclash still looked shell-shocked as he managed, “No, I… I suppose not.”

Since the console was still logged in on Thunderclash’s account, it was easy for Rodimus to tap at the screen to bring up the crew list. As promised, there was a second, empty slot for Captain, so Rodimus typed in his own name and pressed his servo to the screen.

And just like that, the ship accepted him and hummed nearly inaudibly as it began to build his account.

“So,” Thunderclash started, and Rodimus turned back to him to find that at least some of the mech’s senses had come back to him. In fact, there was the slightest of curls to his dumb beautiful mouth as he continued, “No fragging tonight?”

Rodimus laughed hard enough that his vents wheezed.

“Primus, Thunderclash, give it a break and stop hounding me for my spike for a second, would you?!” Rodimus said with what had to be the dumbest grin on his face as he grabbed Thunderclash by the servo and tugged him back towards the door leaving the bridge. “That said though, I do need to see those captain quarters of yours. If I’m moving in, I have to know ahead of time if I’m commandeering them or if we’re gonna have to remodel a couple other rooms to make my captain suite.”

“Oh?” Thunderclash asked, easily falling into step behind Rodimus.

And maybe Rodimus’s servo was small in Thunderclash’s, but it still fit just perfectly.

[humanityinahandbag]

hotel transylvania 3: texting

 or: Ericka is thrilled to be added to the families official group chat. Unfortunately, Dracula hasn’t gotten this whole texting thing down

(Adventures in Family Texting between a small family of vampires and humans) 

Very short without much of an ending. This is nothing more than my tired excuse at writing practice and giving myself a good chuckle. Enjoy.

When Ericka’s phone dings sometime while she’s chatting to the Hydra about their lovely scales (”thank you so much, Captain, we do our very best”) she checks her phone, nearly bursts into unwanted tears, and excuses herself to lean on one of the lobby’s couches. 

Mavis: Hey, Ericka! Adding you to our family group chat! Let me know if you get this!

She’d never been a part of anything. The mundanity of a family group chat was so... boring in concept but left her warm and teary-eyed, and she swiped at her eyes. 

She was about to respond with some sort of long-winded, heartfelt thank you until three dots on the bottom appeared. 

Dracula: MAVIS WHY ARE YOU TEXTING ME

Mavis: We’re adding Ericka to the group chat, dad

Johnny: Sweeeeet 🙌🏼

Dracula: MAVY WAVY THAT’S A GREAT IDEA DID YOU TELL HER YET

Mavis: This is a GROUP CHAT dad. She’s on, now.

Dracula: ERICKA YOU’RE A PART OF OUR GROUP CHAT NOW

Mavis: Dad, she knows

Dracula: ERICKA. YOU JUST HAVE TO TYPE AND SEND IT AND EVERYONE SEES IT

Mavis: She knows how to use group chat, dad

Dracula: TYPE INTO THE BOX AND THEN PRESS SEND

Ericka: I know, honey. 

Dracula: THE SEND BUTTON IS THE BLUE ONE THAT SAYS SEND

Ericka: I know, honey, thank you.

Dracula: SHE FIGURED IT OUT MAVIS

Johnny: dude, you can talk to the people there, you know?

Ericka: I’m here, hon. You can talk to me. 

Dracula: MAVIS WHY AREN’T YOU ANSWERING ME ERICKA FIGURED IT OUT

Mavis: We all know, dad. 

She must have looked all colors of. crazy from the way she was chuckling down at her phone. She looked up. A few monsters gave her a look or two but went back to their newspapers. Ericka shrugged off the feeling of the awkward spotlight and looked back down at her screen. 

Her boyfriend (was that what he was? the term was almost strange and young, like she was still in middle school, mooning over some blonde haired scrawny boy, but it still managed to send little sparks down her spine) was savvy in the ways of most things having to do with hotel management. 

Tech intelligent, he was not. 

She typed back “Thanks for adding me” and waited. 

Three dots appeared at the bottom of the screen. 

Dracula: ERICKA MAKE SURE YOU DON’T SEND ANYTHING YOU DON’T WANT THEM TO SEE ON HERE THIS IS PUBLIC. 

Ericka: I know, honey. 

Mavis: she knows, dad 😑And you don’t need to keep using caps lock. 

Dracula: WHAT’S CAPS LOCK

A minute passed. She watched the dots appear, disappear, and then appear again. 

Dracula: HEY HONEY ARE YOU FREE TONIGHT I WAS THINKING YOU COULD TRY ON THAT NEW LINGERIE WE PICKED OUT

Mavis: Group chat, dad! Group! Chat!

Johnny: lol

Dracula: ERICKA THIS WAS A GROUP CHAT I ACCIDENTALLY TYPED INTO DON’T DO THE SAME THING I DID

Dracula: I THINK I FINALLY FIGURED IT OUT DO YOU WANT TO TRY ON THE LINGERIE TONIGHT

Ericka: Still group chat, honey.

Mavis: DAD.

Ericka pockets her phone, doing her best to swallow back the outrageous cocktail of embarrassment and hysteria. She made a note to try and teach the King of Darkness how to navigate his phone later. 

Maybe after that night. When she tried on the new lingerie. 

Mavis had grown accustomed, day by day (and sometimes hour by hour) with the presence of her fathers new significant other. And had made an effort to at least try and include the woman. 

And when she had, when the gates were opened, and when the invitations were extended, she found that Ericka... was actually pretty cool. 

She was actually really cool. 

The woman had been to nearly every continent, save Australia, and had navigated the seas for twenty-seven long years. “I started when I was fifteen,” she told the young Vampiress, who was going through the hotel menus for the week while Ericka sat beside her, stapling invoices to accounts. “My grandfather had me training before then, but we didn’t have the boat until I turned fourteen. So-”

“And you learned on your own?”

Ericka shrugged, slapping down the lid of the stapler with a thud. “I did a lot of things alone. The only thing he really helped me with was...” she squirmed, choosing her words carefully, “monster stuff. You know...”

“Oh,” said Mavis. The topic was rarely breached, though Ericka suspected it wouldn’t be long until the vampiress started asking questions. 

“But other than that...”

Mavis shook her head, shaking the memory of krakens and wooden stakes off her mind. “So what? You only learned on a cruise ship?”

“Oh, no. I learned on all sorts. Sailing, small schooners, rowboats, catamaran, fishing. I still own the cruise ship. Haven’t had the heart to sell it, yet, since cruise season is coming. Your dad and I are figuring out if I should go for a few months or not. I still have a small motorboat docked out somewhere near New York. I’m thinking of having it shipped here.” She grinned. “If I do, I’ll have to take you and Johnny out on some of the lakes. Sunrise on the water is to die for.”

Mavis, midway down the menu page, popped her head up. “For reals?”

“Sure!” Ericka flicked her hand. “Cruises are one thing. But small boat rides out? When it’s quiet and the sun is just coming up? Nothing more romantic.”

“Oh my god, that sounds perf-”

Their phones both buzzed. 

They looked down. 

Dracula: ERICKA I THINK I LOCKED MYSELF INSIDE MY COFFIN

Mavis slumped. “Didn’t you guys get a bed?”

“Yeah. But he likes the coffin when he’s freaking out, and you know the quarterly review is due tomorrow and...” she tapered off, already texting. 

Ericka: Honey, this is a group chat. What’s wrong?

Dracula: IM STUCK

Ericka: Yeah. Honey. I got that. But how

Dracula: I DON’T KNOW IT JUST HAPPENED

Dracula: SOS

Ericka sighed. “Put a pin in this,” she apologized. Mavis flashed a thumbs up. “I’m going to go save your father from himself.”

“Good luck,” Mavis called after her, going back to the menus. 

A few minutes later her phone buzzed again. There was a private text, from Ericka. 

Ericka: Your father accidentally slammed his coffin too hard. It got stuck. I’m trying to get him out. Can you call maintenence? 

Mavis: Sure.

Mavis put her phone down. And then she picked it back up, grinning.

Mavis: Can you send a video, first? 

Ericka: ...

Ericka: [Ericka has sent a video]

Mavis accepted the link. 

Dracula: MAVIS I KNOW YOU HAVE A VIDEO OF ME SCREAMING FOR HELP IN MY COFFIN 

Mavis: ... no?

Dracula: I KNOW YOU DO

Dracula: BUT I WANT YOU TO TEACH ME

Mavis: Teach you what

Dracula: HOW DO YOU VIDEO IN TEXT

Mavis: You don’t video in text, dad. You open the camera. 

Dracula: ...

Dracula: THIS PHONE HAS A CAMERA?

It took quite a bit to get Vampire’s drunk. Their hearts didn’t technically beat, and their blood didn’t really run, and so most of the chemicals that needed to get to their brains could only get there after said Vampire were absolutely and totally pickled. 

Wayne, Murray, Frank, and Griffin succeeded. 

The wedding of the Chupacabra had ended after 5 am, and though most of the guests had long gone back to their rooms, the boys had dragged Dracula along, claiming that a long overdue boys night. 

“Go,” Ericka had told him, waving him away with a yawn. “I’m gonna get to bed anyway. My feet are killing me.” He’d swept her into every dance there; the notion of watching slow dances from the side of the dance floor had been left behind, and he hadn’t stopped smiling since they’d finished swaying to the last Al Green song. 

He kissed her cheek. And then, looking behind him to make sure his Pack wasn’t watching, he leaned in and planted a kiss on her lips. 

The pack apparently was watching and chose then to let out a chorus of hoots. 

“I’ll meet you upstairs?”

“Remember to shut off the lights.”

And they’d taken him away, with little calls of “thank you, Captain!” and “we’ll have him back in one piece!” 

That had been three hours ago. Before they’d begun plying one another with beers. And then shots. And finally, when the sun was beginning to burn dew off the leaves, mixers. 

The zombie bartender handed Dracula another cosmo, while Griffin sucked the vodka out of the chunks of pineapple on his skewer. 

“God...” Murray slurred, sucking back a Sex on the Beach. “Le’me tell you somethin’. Y’all are soooooo lucky. With wiiiiives and relaaaaaationships-”

Wayne slumped down, grinning from ear to ear. He motioned for the bartender to refill his vodka tonic. “SOOOooo lucky,” he said. “SO SO lucky. I got kids. I got... got Wanda. God, she-she’s per -hic- perfect.”

“Mmmmm...” agreed Griffin, trying to stab his pineapple with the fancy umbrella. “Totally. Tot-a-lly. TOTES.”

Frank, half asleep on the countertop motioned weakly with his hand. 

Dracula poked at his cosmo sadly. He wasn’t drunk, was he? He could see straight (even if most of what he saw was doubles) and he still seemed to be able to use magic? He flickered his fingers experimentally. A shot of blue knocked over a chair somewhere behind him. 

Okay. So maybe not.

God? When was the last time he’d had this much to drink? He’d been stressed lately, with wedding planning and the hotels new wave of maintenance ever since the heavy Transylvanian summer showers had begun. His head gave a lovely thump thump and he rubbed his temple. It was stress that was causing the headache, he told himself. And not the six vodka tonics and seven cosmos he’d knocked back in the last two hours. 

Yeah. That made sense. Stress. Just stress. 

“‘M super luckyyy tooo” drawled Frank, head still on the counter. “Got... got a wife... She’s sooooo pretty.” He held his ears. “But loud.”

Griffin burped. 

Dracula poked his drink again, suddenly feeling lonely in all the talk of wives and partners. “Ohhhhh” he groaned, plucking at the cherry at the end of his tiny umbrella. “I wishhhhh I was luckkkkky too. Haven’ -urp- haven’ had someone since... since Martha an-”

“Drac!” Griffin tried to put his hand on the counts shoulder but ended up slapping it instead. “Drac you DO. Remeeeember? You have Eri-Ericka.”

Dracula sat taller. “Oh yeah!” he exclaimed. He swayed in his seat. “Ericka!” 

Frank popped up. “Ericka’s great!” he shouted before his head fell back down with a THUMP that made all the drinks jump in their glasses. 

Dracula nodded, ignoring the feeling of sea sickness in his gut. Was the hotel floating? He didn’t remember installing a lake? “She’s- she’s so so so so sooooooo great! She’s so pretty and nice and pretty and pretty-”

“So nice!” agreed Wayne. 

Murray nodded. “And she could kill you!”

“Which’s suuuuuuper hot,” said Griffin. 

“Totally hot,” mumbled Frank into the counter. 

“I shou-should text her!”

“You totally should.” Wayne pumped his fist. “Do it! Do it!”

“I’m gonna!” That was a good idea! Texting meant you weren’t drunk, right? Or stressed? Or absolutely out of your mind? 

Dracula took out his phone. “What should I say?”

“Use those faces!” Griffin said, glasses slipping off. “Girls looove those faces.”

“And compliment her,” suggested Murray. “Say she’s beautiful.”

“And could kill you,” mumbled Frank. 

“YES.” Dracula liked this idea. Dracula liked this idea a lot. 

Dracula: HEY HONEY SMILEY FACE

Dracula: THE BOYS AND I ARE STILL HERE SMILEY FACE

Dracula: THEY REMINDED ME THAT YOU EXIST AND I WANTED TO SAY HOW MUCH I LOVE YOUR FACE SMILEY FACE

Dracula: IT’S A GREAT FACE EVEN IF IT TRIED TO KILL ME THAT ONE TIME HEART

Ericka: ...

Ericka: ...

Ericka: honey... why are you texting me.

Mavis: what’s happening?

Dracula: BECAS I LOVE YOU

Dracula: OH HELLO MAVY WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE

Ericka: This is a group chat, sweetheart.

Mavis: Dad I was sleeping

Ericka: We all were. it’s 7 in the morning. 

Dracula: YES BUT I LOVE YOU SMILEY FACE

Ericka: Why do you keep saying smiley face and heart?

Dracula: BECAUSE GIRLS LOVE WHEN MEN USE EMOTION CONS HEART

Mavis: You don’t spell them you use the picture Just put a heart or a smiley face. 

Dracula: THERE ARE PICTURES? SMILEY FACE

Mavis: oh my god.

Ericka: ...

Ericka: text me again and i’ll actually kill you

Dracula: OKAY HONEY HEARTHEARTHEART

Dracula: ... 

Dracula: ERICKA I STILL LOVE YOUR FACe

Dracula: AND YOUR BUTT

Dracula: YOU LOOK GREAT NAKED

Mavis: Ericka, please kill him 

Mavis: I’ll give you the stakes myself

Ericka: 👍🏼I’m pretty sure I still have extras in my duffel but thank you, sweetheart

Mavis: No prob goodnight

Dracula: THATS SUPER HOT

Ericka: I’m locking you outside in the sun if you don’t stop 

Dracula held his phone close to his chest. “I just love her so much,” he choked. 

“Super hot,” said Griffin. 

Frank groaned into the counter. 

Dracula woke up with an earth-shattering headache. “Oh...” he mumbled. “Oh shit.” From next to him, Ericka looked up from her book. It was some adventure story with an explosion on the cover. 

“Yeah,” she said. “That sounds about right.”

“What did I do last night?” he rolled over, facing her, wincing in the light of her bedside lamp. His voice sounded too loud against the stone walls. “Did I die?” 

“No. But I almost killed you.”

“Oh,” he said. 

“And you drank a lot,” she said, going back to her book. “I’m pretty sure it was a bunch of cosmos. That’s what you told me when you came back.”

“I walked back?” He squinted, trying to remember. Or maybe trying to block out the light. When did the room get so bright?

“Mmmhm. Jumped into bed and woke me up to tell me that I was hot.” She turned the page. “And then you stole all the covers. You’re lucky I don’t keep stakes next to me.” 

He ignored the last part and rubbed his face. “I think I’m dead. I think I died, and now I’m dead.”

“Technically, you’re undead.”

“You know what I mean.” He pushed his hands against his eyes. “It’s been a long few weeks. Stress is doing me in.”

“This isn't stressed,” Ericka said into her book. “You’re hungover..”

He groaned, hiding his eyes in his pillow. “Vampires,” he remarked painfully, “don’t get drunk.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s not true. Because you were drunk.”

“Stressed,” he argued. 

“Stressed people don’t drunk text their entire families at 8 in the morning.”

He peeked out with one eye. “What?”

“Yup.” Ericka said, popping the P. “You spelled out emoticons. and then told everyone I looked good naked.”

Dracula stared at her like she’d told him the earth was moments away from destruction.  “I didn’t.”

“You did,” she said, turning the page again. “But please. Blame it on stress.”

He hid his face in the pillow and groaned. 

I’m sure that there are many more adventures in Vampire/Human Family Texting. 

But right now, these are the ones I could think of. 

Please, enjoy. 

[pinkletterday]

Strangers In The Cold - Pt 1

Pairing: Barry Allen/ Leonard Snart

Rating: Teen and Explicit

Tags: one night stand, gratutious banter, gratuitous smut, age difference, bad decisions, pre-series au

Summary: Nineteen-year-old Barry Allen is trying to drown the ghosts of his Christmas past in some (slightly illegal) alcohol when a beautiful, obnoxious stranger invades his table without so much as a by-your-leave...

Part 2 of the Coldflash vs Olivarry polyam AU

Notes: Baby's first slash story! I posted this late last year, one of the first fics I wrote after ten years. The story that planted the seed that grew into the series. It's so rough, in hindsight, and there's a lot I would change if I had written it now but I'm still mad fond of it! :)

Read on AO3

"Last Christmas, I gave you my heart, and the very next day you gave it away..."

The whole point of coming to a dive bar, Barry thought sourly, was to get the fuck away from Christmas cheer. He had not accounted for the fact that even the city's seedy underbelly seemed obliged to pay lip service to tinsel, kistchy multi-colored lights, and God forbid, Wham!

He fatalistically contemplated the somewhat suspect contents of his glass, then took another sip and grimaced. It did not taste any better now than it had when he had sat down with it.

"You know, if you're out to drown your sorrows, a finger of whiskey isn't going to do much even if you faceplant in it."

The voice was entirely too unfamiliar to be taking such a familiar tone with him and Barry looked up from his glass in irritation to tell him so, but then...wow.

Six feet, buzz cut black hair, ice blue eyes and a face carved by Michaelangelo. Jesus. Barry hadn't discovered he was bi until last year, but he realized he had definitely found his type in men.

Not that he looked remotely like...him. Except for the build and the beauty. This man was much older for one, clearly in his thirties. Even his eyes were blue like flint, not blue like...anyway.

The stranger was smirking now and Barry also realized that he was gaping like a fish. He quickly closed his mouth in embarrassment and returned to his drink.

Be cool, Allen. "Who says I'm trying to drown anything?" He retorted with dignity.

"Well, you're drinking alone and your face looks like a puppy that got left at the shelter," shrugged the stranger. "But you've been sipping at an inch of whiskey for ten minutes so maybe you don't actually want to be drinking."

Okay, gorgeous or no, this guy had no business telling him what he wanted out of life. He was not a puppy but a...well...mostly grown man. With a fake ID.

"And you're my guardian angel, here to rescue me from poor life choices?" asked Barry snidely.

"Hardly," the stranger drawled, sliding onto the stool across from him. What the hell. Who said he could do that? "I just came in here for a drink to see the place was packed. And you are hogging a whole table by yourself, not even drinking, while I don't have a place to put down my beer." He accentuated his point by setting his sweating bottle down between them.

Barry sputtered in indignation and considered telling this asshole, "You're an asshole" but he was about twice his size, and the last thing he had energy for was a fight and...he really did not want to be drinking alone.

"Well that's good that you asked first," snarked Barry instead, "It would have been pretty rude if you had just insulted me and plunked yourself down."

The stranger simply smirked at him in and took a long pull of his beer. Barry's eyes involuntarily travelled to the line of his neck, those plush lips wrapped around the mouth of the bottle, the way his Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed...get it together Allen, God.

And of course the stranger had seen him looking. Barry tensed but his smirk just grew wider.

"So," he leaned forward casually so that his head was less than a foot apart from Barry's. "What's an underage boy like you doing in a place like this?"

Barry scowled. "Not underage. I'm in college."

"Old enough to vote, but I doubt you purchased that legally," the man gestured at Barry's still full glass.

Barry didn't even try to deny it. This was a college town, fake IDs were a dime a dozen and he was well aware that he had a face that was...challenged in maturity. Maybe that was why no one took him seriously about anything. Joe certainly hadn't. You need to grow up and face reality, son. Barry's morose mood returned.

"The law can be wrong." He gripped his shot glass, staring fiercely into the amber liquid.

"I'll drink to that," the stranger leaned back and saluted with his bottle. "I believe it was Dickens who said "the law is an ass'"

"It is," said Barry vehemently. Then felt a stab of guilt at the thought of Joe. "I mean, sometimes," he amended, sullenly.

"Ah. Not about to throw in with the criminal element then." His companion said sardonically.

"No," said Barry quietly, "I just think...sometimes the law doesn't take everything into account."

The man quirked an elegant brow. "Such as?"

Barry hunched his shoulders and picked at his napkin. "That things aren't always what they seem. " He continued absently, almost to himself, "legal doesn't mean right. Sometimes, doing the right thing isn't always legal."

He came back to himself and looked up self-consciously to find intent eyes on him. "I see that college has been teaching you a lot," the man said. "Although possibly not what your parents are paying your tuition for."

"Scholarship," Barry retorted. "My foster father is only paying my room and board."

"Good for you." Why did he seem to make even compliments sound sarcastic? "Academically gifted intellectual thinker of your generation. Yet still brooding into his perfectly good whiskey."

"I'm not brooding," said Barry sourly. "I'm...celebrating."

"Ah. Your Christmas parties must be very popular," the older man deadpanned. "What are we celebrating then?"

Maybe it was because Mariah Carey had just followed Wham! on the radio but Barry suddenly felt like nothing mattered anymore. He was overtaken by an impulsive recklessness. "I'm celebrating the one year anniversary of my rejection."

Because why the hell not. Bars were invented to inconvenience strangers with embarrassingly personal sob stories. Well, according to the movies, that was usually the bartender's job, but this one seemed busy with the holiday crowd.

"Mazel tov. That's certainly a long time to be moping," said the asshole, "I admire your dedication."

Barry glared at him. "She is - was the love of my life," he said sullenly "I've loved her for at least ten years."

"Right out of the womb then," snarked The Asshole, and yeah, that remark earned him the capitalization.

"Polite and hilarious," said Barry. "You are a catch."

The corner of The Asshole's mouth turned up in an almost-grin and Barry kind of hated the thrill of satisfaction that coursed through him at the sight. He had solved the age old nerd conundrum of why girls fell for jerks. Sex appeal clearly trampled over self-respect.

"What's your name, kid?"

"Sam," he lied, because Joe West hadn't raised a fool, no matter what he thought.

The Asshole snorted. "Sure you are."

Barry tilted his chin defiantly. "I don't need to ask yours. I've already given you one."

"Oh?"

"Starts with A, ends with hole." So much for not antagonizing a potentially dangerous stranger.

Asshole didn't seem antagonized. There was a definite flash of a grin, ruthlessly smothered. Shame. Barry really wanted to see the full effect, asshole or no.

Ok. Let's not go down that road, Allen. For one thing, lightning doesn't strike the same place twice. Just because an incredibly hot guy picked you up once doesn't make you a sex magnet. 

And if it did...well it hadn't ended well last time.

"So Sam" said Asshole, "Tell me about this lifelong love of yours."

No. He might be feeling like dirt and hate Iris a little right now but he wasn't giving her away to some obnoxious sneering stranger in a bar. She was too precious. He wasn't sharing what he felt for her with anyone ever again, in fact. Being destroyed once was enough.

"Nothing to tell," he shrugged with forced nonchalance, "she didn't feel the same way. Had a falling out with her Dad too. I went off to college. Christmases are awkward now."

"Getting turned down by a girl is one thing," allowed Asshole. "Managing to piss off her father is somewhat over-achieving. Didn't think you were a good influence on his little girl?"

Barry actually had tried hard not to consider what Joe may have thought about his feelings for Iris. He instead held on to the fact that whatever else, Joe loved him too. "Never told him," he shrugged again. "Her Dad's my foster father. We had a fight about my life direction."

Asshole blinked. "Let me get this straight. You're in love with your sister?"

"She's not my sister!" Barry exclaimed. He hated, hated when people referred to them as foster siblings, hated having to feel like having feelings for a girl he had loved since before his parents were taken from him was somehow dirty and wrong, hated thinking that maybe Joe and Iris herself expected him to be her brother. "You know what, why am I talking to you -" He didnt need to defend his feelings to some random jerk in a bar -

"Whoa kid, slow down." Asshole actually laid his hand on Barry's arm as he tried to get up from the table, arrested him in place. He stared at the graceful fingers wrapped lightly around his forearm. "I see I hit a nerve. I'm not judging, believe me." He seemed oddly sincere. Barry sat down.

Asshole looked at him contemplatively for long enough that Barry began to feel foolish about his outburst. When the older man finally spoke, his tone was surprisingly soft.

"When you're in the system," he eyes intent on Barry's, "it tries to pre-define your relationships with other people and impose them on you, just because you have to live with them. They tell you who your parents are supposed to be, who your siblings are, who you're supposed to turn to for help. But people don't work like that. It's all just another bunch of bullshit rules.

Barry felt like a fly caught in the stranger's intense blue gaze. His breath caught in his throat and his pulse quickened, but more than that was the odd feeling of kinship he felt with this man, who seemed to really understand what it was to be small and powerless.

"Yeah," he breathed, finally looking away. "It's all just a bunch of bullshit rules." He took swallow of whiskey for the lack of anything to do with his hands. It burned a little on the way down, and Barry was proud of not coughing.

"Glad we cleared that up," the stranger leaned back on his chair and also took another pull of his beer. Barry thought somehow that he hadn't meant to open up that much either.

"What about you?" Barry asked. It was only polite. "Why are you drinking alone?"

"Alone?" snorted Asshole. "What are you then? A dramatic bar stool?"

Barry ignored the jibe. "You came here to drink alone, though."

"Sometimes a man just needs to get away from other people before a justifiable stabbing occurs," said Asshole. "Sometimes a man does want a celebratory drink all by himself. Sometimes those reasons coincide."

Barry considered this. "So you're pissed off at people, but you're happy about it?"

Asshole actually huffed a laugh, making another thrill of victory run down Barry's spine. "More like, I pissed a lot of people off and it was a job well done."

"I can see how you'd be very good at your job," said Barry. "My career counsellor always told me to choose a field that suited both my talent and ambition." Asshole was clearly biting the inside of his cheek in amusement. "And you, Sam," he asked. "How is your ambition working out for you?"

"I had two." Get Dad out of prison. Marry Iris. "Now one seems to be off the table." There was another dull stab of pain in Barry's chest.

"The girl," Asshole nods in understanding. "Ambition should have no truck with feelings, Sam. One is to do with you. The other relies on other people. In the end, the only person you can truly trust is you."

"Well that's...cold," said Barry, taken aback.

"Perhaps I am," Asshole said without rancor. "But I'm not the one trying to find the meaning of life at the bottom of a whiskey glass here."

"Touché," Barry conceded sarcastically. "You have the soul of a poet."

"I don't believe in souls."

"Wow. I wonder what kind of people come to your Christmas parties."

An odd, sharp gash of a smile slid across Asshole's face. "The very, very bad kind."

Barry again had that feeling of being some form of small prey ensnared by something with very sharp teeth. It should have frightened him. Instead it seemed to make his blood run further south. He flushed and looked away, taking another sip of his drink.

Don't even think about it. We're not doing this again.

There was a silence that seemed somehow expectant.

We're not.

"There are ways to mend broken hearts other than with alcohol, you know," said his companion, his face unreadable. "I never went to college myself but I keep hearing that it's a place for experimentation."

Barry suddenly felt his whole body tingling. Danger, Will Robinson.

Except he was hardening in his jeans. No. Down boy. Bad penis. Very bad.

He decided to play dumb in case he was getting his wires severely crossed. "If you mean weed, it turns out I'm allergic. And yeah, that was fun finding that out. I'm not into the whole drugs and partying thing."

Asshole was still looking at him like he was an interesting science experiment. "And the other thing?"

Barry's body went awash in heat so suddenly was like being dunked in warm apple pie. Oh my God no way this is happening again. "Sex?" Asshole inclined his head for Barry to continue. "Um. I tried that. Once. This summer."

"Did you? And how was it?"

"Well it was," pretty fucking amazing, "pretty good, actually."

"Ah."

"But then he died."

Asshole looked incredulously at him and Barry started laughing almost hysterically. Yes, this was his life.

"You seem to have recovered."

"No, I mean. I only knew him for less than twelve hours." Less than twelve of the most intensely pleasurable hours of his life. "We went our separate ways. Two months later I find out he died in a boating accident. It's...I'm not actually sure how to process it."

This was an understatement. Part of the reason he had never told anyone was because he wasn't sure how to explain that he couldn't get himself off to the memory of the best and only sexual experience of his life, because every time he tried, he kept remembering that the hands and mouth that had pleasured him so intimately were now cold and dead at the bottom of the ocean.

"Jesus, kid."

"Yeah," He slumped in his seat and blew air through his cheeks, ruffling his bangs. "After a while I started to think - maybe it's me."

"What, like your dick is cursed?"

"More like my ass." What was Barry's mouth doing and when had it become detached from his brain? Not only had he just outed himself to this complete stranger, said stranger now knew more about his sexual history than anyone in his life.

Not that anyone in his life even knew he was bi or that he'd lost his virginity. Gay virginity no less. Gayginity?

His companion did not seem privy to Barry's half-hysterical musings. He simply nodded, as though filing away the fact that Barry had only ever bottomed as important information.

"You know that something happening once does not constitute a pattern, right? There are things in the world that happen regardless of your existence?"

"I'm not an idiot," Barry met the older man's amused expression with an unimpressed one. "It's just fucked up, is all."

"But you're still afraid." Asshole nodded almost sympathetically.

Barry shrugged. "I guess."

"I could help you not be afraid."

Is this really happening again?

"Oh? And how is that?"

"I think you know."

So. This is a thing that is happening again. He should have remembered that that proverb about the lightning was a scientific fallacy.

Apparently he, Barry Allen, was catnip for beautiful blue-eyed obnoxious older men who liked beer. And twinks.

"Do you usually play sex therapist with college students in bars, or is this a way of giving back to the community during the holiday season?" When in doubt, build a wall of snark.

"I don't usually go for guys your age," Asshole inclined his head in concession, "but it's hardly an act of charity. I don't think you quite know your own allure, Sam."

"I have allure now?" Apparently his pale scrawny nerd ass did have some mysterious allure for this to have happened a second time. "Is that why you've been annoyingly sarcastic at me since you sat down?"

"And here I thought we were having some quality banter. I didnt hear you objecting."

"No." This time Barry met that even gaze head on so the man couldn't mistake his meaning. "I wouldnt object."

"I sense a "but."

"The "but" was the whole conversation that came before. I'm weird, fucked up and I won't have any idea what I'm doing."

"Well, unless your former paramour did some very questionable things, you must have some idea."

Flesh slapping against flesh, the strange, painfully sweet burn, lips and teeth on his throat sparking electricity down his chest. "I know what it's supposed to be like," Barry ruthlessly stamped out the flare of arousal. "But I wouldn't know what to do in the driver's seat."

"Fortunately for you, I like to drive." The Stranger leaned forward, smooth as a cat (one could no longer call someone they might possibly be having sex with Asshole) "So what do you say?"

Barry tried to ignore the discomfort in his jeans and his hardening nipples to ponder this. "You could be a serial killer?"

"Did that concern you before as well?" the man asked drily.

It had, fleetingly. But Barry had been a very horny virgin then, ambushed by a gorgeous older boy. He had not exactly been thinking with the right head. "Touché. It's still not a good idea though."

"No it isn't," the Stranger admitted but his gaze was heated and his voice pure smoke and whiskey. "But sometimes bad ideas are the best ones."

Sparkling blue eyes. A cheesy, confident grin. "Wanna get out of here?"

Some risks were worth taking, whatever Joe thought.

"Point," said Barry, revelling in his own recklessness. "Then I guess there's just one more thing."

"Which is?"

"Don't die."

Barry had tried to make it sound glib and off-hand but had obviously failed by the way the Stranger's expression softened. It was startling how that arrogant marble face could look kind and almost vulnerable. 

And then he smiled. A genuine, small smile that made Barry's heart stutter and his bones feel liquid. This was ridiculous.

"I'll try my best. Personally I'm very much against dying, myself. It's a bad habit to get into."

"Okay." said Barry, but inside he was a tumult of emotion and he knew he didn't exactly have a poker face. Eagerness and desire warred with fear and uncertainty, but he would not back out once he had committed.

Stranger looked almost gently at him and reached out a hand to trace Barry's jawline. His fingers were long and beautiful and Barry's skin tingled where he touched him, eyelids growing heavy with want.

He realized wanted those hands touching him all over his body.

"Look at me," Barry obeyed that smoke-and-whiskey whisper as if in a dream and was caught again in the spearing blue. "I'm going to take you to my motel room at the Clarion. And then I'm going to undress you slowly and take every beautiful inch of you apart.

But I'm not going to hurt you. And we can stop any time you want. I'm not into non-consenting partners. Do you understand?"

"Sshh Barry. I'm going to take care of you." Gentle lips and strong arms around him. "You tell me and I'll stop. You're so good for me, pretty boy."

Barry wondered what the Stranger made of the sudden sadness that washed over him even as he turned his face into the warmth of the man's hand.

"Yes." He held the Stranger's gaze and brushed his lips over his thumb. "I understand."

***

The winter chill was biting even through their coats as they walked away from the glow of the bar's Christmas lights of the bar to the darkness of the parking lot. The snow that crunched underfoot seemed loud in Barry's ears, along with the pounding of his heart. He was really doing this. Again.

He was either the luckiest sonuvabitch on the planet or the stupidest.

"So, um," Barry stammered as they got in the stranger's car, "what do I call you?"

"I'm registered at the inn under Michael Lincoln."

"Is that your real name?"

"No," he snorted, buckling in.

Barry suddenly felt daring. He ran his hand over the Stranger's thigh and put his mouth by his ear. "Let me rephrase that for you," he whispered, letting want turn his voice rough. "What name do you want me to call out when you're fucking me?"

The man's eyes were dark and hot under the fan of lashes when he turned to him. He pulled Barry toward him by the nape of his neck and brought that cupid bow mouth so close to his that Barry could almost feel his lips against his own.

"Leonard," he breathed into his mouth. "Call me Len." And captured Barry's mouth in a searing kiss.

 ***

Part 2

[all-the-wrong-lines]

I Know You -- An Agent Carter fic

Peggy set the phone back on it’s receiver and shut her eyes for a moment. They stung a bit, dry from all the late nights and earlier mornings. Going to Russia hadn’t helped. That was the thing about the SSR—and the Army for that matter. The things that fueled her spirit often had the opposite effect on her body. Fitness could only do so much, and those who didn’t leave her line of work by injury tended to get worn down. Threadbare might be the best word. Like when one day you’re looking at an old jacket and remembering how it used to match those red socks you threw out a couple years ago. Only now the color that would best describe it is pink with white patches. Not that there’s anything wrong with pink with white patches, just that it’s surprising. You can’t seem to remember when it stopped being the vibrant, bloody color of its past.

“It’s a slow night,” she noted, rubbing her eyes to make them burn just a little bit more. She paused for a moment, waiting for Thompson to respond and break the monotony. A moment passed. Two moments. She felt like sighing. “What if nothing happens at all, and we’re just sitting here for six more hours?” She leaned back in her chair, staring up at the ceiling and letting her fingers drum on her thigh. Absent drumming moved to rhythmic, which turned agitated as she began to suspect that he was ignoring her on purpose. “Thompson,” she chided, turning her chair around to face his desk, “You do realize that—“ She cut her sentence short as she got a better look at the man. He was situated precariously in his chair, one arm at his side and the other in his lap, head lolling towards his shoulder. A fountain pen had settled near his sternum, threatening to roll off with each rise and fall of his chest. The way his mouth hung open slightly suggested that it might have held that same pen moments before.

Jack Thompson, asleep on the job. What a scandal. Peggy deliberated for a moment on whether to wake him up or let him sleep. No doubt he was tired; she was too. He’d been working ceaselessly since their return, as evidenced by the meticulous agglomeration of papers scattering his desk. Her work at the SSR may not be as hectic as his, but once you took her after hours obligations into account it wasn’t a stretch to say that Dooley had assigned two of his most overworked employees to stay up tonight. They both deserved a good night's sleep.

If there was a call, she decided, she would wake him up then.

The question now was how to pass the time without Thompson’s wisecracks to keep her awake. The dog shift was proving to be incredibly dull, and her most important work at the moment could only be completed outside of the office. Perhaps some coffee would help. Of course, she would have to go pick up the coffee, which would mean leaving Jack here alone. That would be fine, if he weren’t comatose half way across the office.

Clack

Peggy’s arm reached for her sidearm before she’d had time to process the small noise. With Jack asleep, and her the only other one in the office, where had it come from? She turned, arms held in front of her and finger poised to shoot, but there was nothing there. Cautiously, she stood and surveyed the room, twitching as Thompson shifted restlessly in his sleep. Her heartbeat pulsed in her ears as all fatigue fled her body, and she began to move.

She passed a desk, turning on a dime, ready to pull the trigger should someone be there. The room was completely silent, the desks bare. When she made it to Jack’s desk she kept her .45 low but turned nonetheless, eyes falling on—oh goodness—a fountain pen. She glanced at Thompson’s chest, which was decidedly pen-less, and let out a breath of relief.

Relief gave way to humiliation, and her cheeks began to warm as she realized just how much she had overreacted. She cursed under her breath, prompting Agent Thompson to stir and open his eyes. Peggy lowered her gun.

“Carter?” One of his eyebrows climbed it's way up his face. He likely would have cocked his head if it weren’t already thrust against the edge of his chair. “Why are you standing in front of me with your gun drawn?” He sat forward a bit, product heavy hair ever so slightly disheveled in the back.

“You shouldn’t fall asleep on the job, Thompson,” she quipped, horrified at the idea of him finding out she had snuck her way over here to shoot his favorite pen. “Someone might shoot you.” She could hear Thompson shuffling in his seat as she placed her weapon on safe and back at her side.

“That’s not funny, Peg.”

Peggy scoffed, looking back up at Thompson, but caught her tongue when he refused to meet her eye, staring pointedly at the floor instead. The longer she studied him, the more he seemed to draw in on himself, and then it clicked.

“Oh.” Her voice came out in an undertone. This was a landmine she hadn’t ever intended to set off. “Oh, Jack. I didn’t mean—“

“I’ll get us some coffee.” His voice was uncharacteristically quiet as he spoke.

“What?”

“Can’t be falling asleep like this.” He turned his head to face hers, but he wasn’t quite meeting her eyes. His elbows were on his knees, and his eyes were fixed on something above her left shoulder. She had a sudden urge to look behind her, to figure out what it was he was focusing on. “I should get us some coffee.” The air was stagnant for a moment before he shifted in his seat, preparing to stand.

“It’s strange, isn’t it,” Peggy interrupted his movement, voice dipping up at the end like a question. They both knew he wasn’t actually supposed to answer. “Coffee, I mean. Even here in the States it was being rationed.” Thompson was looking down again, unsure where her story was going or how to respond. “Of course I’ve always preferred tea, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t spend four years drinking Roosevelt coffee like the rest of you. It’s so strong now.” She walked forward and leaned her hip on his desk; it was almost casual. “I have to make myself drink it anymore, which is strange, because whenever I got some in my C-rations it was like Christmas come early.”

“You know English, I’ve never actually seen you drink tea.” He looked up, smiling, but still managed to seem despondent; still ready to leave his chair at a moment’s notice. It didn’t escape her that he was ignoring the part of her story that mattered. “I’m starting to think this British thing is just an act.” He was standing up, grabbing his coat, draping it elegantly over his elbow. He was adopting the rakish posture he so often owned, trying to exude his usual confidence.

“That’s the great thing about us English folk.” She stepped forward and placed her hand on his arm, urging him to sit back down. She leaned with him to maintain the contact as he softened and obliged. It was clear she needed to switch tactics, he was getting skittish and it wouldn’t do to have him running off. “We’re always prepared.” She released his arm and smoothed her skirt, walking over to her own desk and retrieving her handbag. She could feel his eyes on her as she fished through it, curious. After an almost embarrassing length of time, she found two small packets and pulled them out.

“Whatcha got there Carter?” He leaned his elbows forward on his desk, trying to get a better look.

“Tea bags,” she hummed.

“Tea bags,” he repeated, incredulous, as if he didn’t believe her. “You carry tea bags in your purse.” He shook his head, but Peggy could tell he was grateful for the distraction. “What the hell else do you keep in there?

“We can discuss that,” she offered, walking into the adjacent room to heat up some water and raising her voice to compensate, “over tea.”

“I’ve never made tea before.” His voice was a bit stronger now. It was easier for him to collect himself when she wasn’t in the room. Or maybe it was him compensating for the distance. Peggy let some water run into the kettle. “How long does it take?”

“Five or ten minutes for the water to boil,” she shouted back, “and then however long you want to steep it for.”

“How long do you steep yours for?” His voice sounded a bit closer. He wasn’t at his desk anymore.

“I’ll let it sit for about five minutes.” She filled the kettle completely before shutting the tap off. She could hear Thompson doing… something, outside the door.

“Hey, why do you carry so much lipstick with you?”

“Are you going through my bag, Thompson?” She scoffed back, turning to put the kettle on the range. She waited a second but he didn’t answer. “You know it’s rude to rifle through a lady’s belongings.”

“Lady?” She could almost see his expression through the wall, challenging her. “No lady I know packs this kind of heat.”

“Well Agent Thompson, that might have been true before--”

“You’ve got all sorts of stuff in here. Lipstick, sunglasses, hairpins, regular pens, and, I don’t know what this is. What is this?” No attention span, like a child.

“I can’t see what you’re looking at Jack, you’re going to have to be a bit more specific.”

“It says ‘Meds’,” he added. Peggy closed her eyes, letting go of the kettle and sauntering over to lean in the doorway. “Hold on a minute, these are for bullet wounds.” He had the box open and was squinting at it, the other contents of her bag were scattered across her desk. “There’s four missing. English, how many people around you are getting shot?” Oh, this would be fun to explain.

“They don’t use them for bullet wounds anymore, Jack.” She gave him a mischievous smile. “The war’s over.”

“So what, you carry them around for fun?” He held the box up in one hand, urging her to answer.

“The nurse corps took a lot of women down range.” She picked some dirt out from under her nail, doing her best to act nonchalant. “They ended up coming up with some creative solutions for their problems.”

“For bullet wounds.”

“For their moon time.” She whispered conspiratorially, as if she was letting him in on some big secret.

“Moon time?” The poor man looked more confused than he had at the start of the conversation.

“You know. The crimson tide? The visit from mother nature? When we’re riding the cotton pony?” He gave her a blank look, continuing to hold the box out. “When we’re menstruating.”

The last word had hardly escaped her lips before he’d dropped the box and taken a step back, horrified. If he’d had a rifle, she suspected his first instinct would have been to point it at the package.

“They’re very good for plugging up bloody holes.” The impish smile remained fixed on her face, and Thompson looked for a moment as if he might just run away. He brought one arm up to rub the nape of his neck, and there was a gap between his other arm and his side. It was as if he'd forgotten where he usually placed it.

“Jesus, Carter.” He searched for more words, but decided to simply sit in her chair and let out a theatrical groan. Peggy walked over, scooping up the box and replacing it in her bag before leaning on the edge of her desk.

“Good thing you’re sitting down. You look as if you might faint.” She began collecting her belongings off her desk, taking a tad bit longer than she needed to. After a minute or two of what she thought was amiable silence, Thompson cleared his throat. Peggy looked up to find him staring at her with a surprising intensity. She let out a nervous laugh at the sudden shift in tone. “Is something on your mind Jack?”

“Why haven’t you told anyone?” He studied her face, pleading for an answer but already unsure he would believe it.

“Because it doesn’t matter.”

“It does matter,” he ordered. “It’s always mattered.”

“It wouldn’t change who you are Jack.” She snapped back, harsher than she intended.

“It already has, Peggy.” He was raising his voice now, incredulous. She could hear the steam from the tea seething in the other room and noted that the range was hotter than she’d remembered. Another minute and it would be ready.

He stood up.

“I can feel it everyday.” He reached forward and grabbed both of her arms above the elbow.

“I didn’t know you before the war Jack.” She articulated her words carefully, wondering if they were the right ones; If there even were right ones. “It doesn’t change anything to me. You’re the same man I’ve always known.”

“Then why wouldn’t you tell Dooley?” His voice was raised, tinted with a slight mania. “I’m nothing to you Carter.” She could hear the low, faint whistle of the kettle drift into the room. “I’m worse than nothing--I’m bitter, I’m spiteful, I’m in your way. I make you get lunch orders. I make comments about you that I know aren’t true just to antagonize you. I did everything in my damn power to keep you out of Russia.” His fingers dug into her arms as he lowered his voice to a plea. “If nothing was different, you’d want me gone.”

“None of that has stopped me.” She reached her arms up and clasped onto his forearms, leveling him with her gaze. “I am not in the business of tearing other people down, Jack--Even if I was, it wouldn’t stop you, either. You’re stronger than that.”

“You don’t know that.” His voice caught in his throat, breaking. The whistling from the kettle had levelled into a solid whine.

“I do know that.” She grasped his arms tighter, he loosened his own grip in response, but didn’t let go. “Everything I’ve seen you do Jack--every time I’ve seen you slip up--do you know what you’ve done?” She barely gave him time to shake his head before continuing. “You’ve recovered. You’ve picked yourself up and dusted yourself off and kept moving, even when you were scared half to death.” He released his grip, but left his hands hovering near her shoulders, ready to latch back on. “And I suspect,” she tilted her head, looking for confirmation of her next words, “that you’ve been doing that for years. Trying to make up for the past, to prove to that it’s not who you are.” His deep breath and the look in his eyes was all the confirmation it took.

She let go of his arms, pulling him into a loose hug instead. She moved her hand gently on his back, comforting him as he returned the embrace.

“But nobody else knew, Jack. You didn’t need to convince anyone. It was important to you.” She whispered. “That’s how I know.” She swayed slightly, letting the steady piping of steam and the hum of the AC waft over them until Thompson began to relax. Eventually he let go and instead moved to give her the most genuine look that had ever graced his features. When he opened his mouth to speak she half expected him to say something profound, and half expected him to simply close his mouth again without a word.

“I think the tea’s ready,” he said instead, smiling gently. Peggy smiled back.

“I think you’re right.”

[mlleedom]

White Frights - The Villains and the Fall Guys

White Frights - The Villains and the Fall Guys

February 2002

I don't know what it is, but every time I see a white guy walking towards me, I tense up. My heart starts racing, and I immediately begin to look for an escape route and a means to defend myself. I kick myself for even being in this part of town after dark. Didn't I notice the suspicious gangs of white people lurking on every street corner, drinking Starbucks and wearing their gang colors of Gap turquoise or J Crew mauve? What an idiot! Now the white person is coming closer, closer - and then - whew! He walks by without harming me, and I breathe a sigh of relief.

White people scare the crap out of me. This may be hard for you to understand - considering that I am white - but then again, my colour gives me a certain insight. For instance, I find myself pretty scary a lot of the time, so I know what I'm talking about. You can take my word for it: if you find yourself suddenly surrounded by white people, you better watch out. Anything can happen. As white people, we've been lulled into thinking it's safe to be around other white people. We've been taught since birth that it's the people of that other colour we need to fear. They're the ones who'll slit your throat!

Yet as I look back on my life, a strange but unmistakable pattern seems to emerge. Every person who has ever harmed me in my lifetime - the boss who fired me, the teacher who flunked me, the principal who punished me, the kid who hit me in the eye with a rock, the executive who didn't renew TV Nation, the guy who was stalking me for three years, the accountant who double-paid my taxes, the drunk who smashed into me, the burglar who stole my stereo, the contractor who overcharged me, the girlfriend who left me, the next girlfriend who left even sooner, the person in the office who stole cheques from my chequebook and wrote them out to himself for a total of $16,000 - every one of these individuals has been a white person. Coincidence? I think not.

I have never been attacked by a black person, never been evicted by a black person, never had my security deposit ripped off by a black landlord, never had a black landlord, never had a meeting at a Hollywood studio with a black executive in charge, never had a black person deny my child the college of her choice, never been puked on by a black teenager at a Mötley Crüe concert, never been pulled over by a black cop, never been sold a lemon by a black car salesman, never seen a black car salesman, never had a black person deny me a bank loan, and I've never heard a black person say, "We're going to eliminate 10,000 jobs here - have a nice day!"

I don't think that I'm the only white guy who can make these claims. Every mean word, every cruel act, every bit of pain and suffering in my life has had a Caucasian face attached to it.

So, um, why is it exactly that I should be afraid of black people?

I look around at the world I live in - and, I hate to tell tales out of school, but it's not the African-Americans who have made this planet such a pitiful, scary place. Recently, a headline on the front of the Science section of the New York Times asked Who Built The H-Bomb? The article went on to discuss a dispute between the men who claim credit for making the first bomb. Frankly, I could have cared less - because I already know the only pertinent answer: "It was a white guy!" No black guy ever built or used a bomb designed to wipe out hordes of innocent people, whether in Oklahoma City, Columbine or Hiroshima. No, friends, it's always the white guy. Let's go to the tote board:

· Who gave us the black plague? A white guy.

· Who invented PBC, PVC, PBB, and a host of chemicals that are killing us? White guys.

· Who has started every war America has been in? White men.

· Who invented the punchcard ballot? A white man.

· Whose idea was it to pollute the world with the internal combustion engine? Whitey, that's who.

· The Holocaust? That guy really gave white people a bad name.

· The genocide of Native Americans? White man.

· Slavery? Whitey!

· US companies laid off more than 700,000 people in 2001. Who ordered the lay-offs? White CEOs.

You name the problem, the disease, the human suffering, or the abject misery visited upon millions, and I'll bet you 10 bucks I can put a white face on it faster than you can name the members of 'NSync.

And yet, when I turn on the news each night, what do I see again and again? Black men alleged to be killing, raping, mugging, stabbing, gang banging, looting, rioting, selling drugs, pimping, ho-ing, having too many babies, fatherless, motherless, Godless, penniless. "The suspect is described as a black male... the suspect is described as a black male... THE SUSPECT IS DESCRIBED AS A BLACK MALE..." No matter what city I'm in, the news is always the same, the suspect always the same unidentified black male. I'm in Atlanta tonight, and I swear the police sketch of the black male suspect on TV looks just like the black male suspect I saw on the news last night in Denver and the night before in LA. In every sketch he's frowning, he's menacing - and he's wearing the same knit cap! Is it possible that it's the same black guy committing every crime in America?

I believe we've become so used to this image of the black man as predator that we are forever ruined by this brainwashing. In my first film, Roger & Me, a white woman on social security clubs a rabbit to death so that she can sell him as "meat" instead of as a pet. I wish I had a nickel for every time in the past 10 years that someone has come up to me and told me how "horrified" they were when they saw that "poor little cute bunny" bonked on the head. The scene, they say, made them physically sick. The Motion Picture Association of America gave Roger & Me an R [18] rating in response to that rabbit killing. Teachers write to me and say they have to edit that part out of the film, if they want to show it to their students.

But less than two minutes after the bunny lady does her deed, I included footage of a scene in which police in Flint, Michigan, shot a black man who was wearing a Superman cape and holding a plastic toy gun. Not once - not ever - has anyone said to me, "I can't believe you showed a black man being shot in your movie! How horrible! How disgusting! I couldn't sleep for weeks." After all, he was just a black man, not a cute, cuddly bunny. The ratings board saw absolutely nothing wrong with that scene. Why? Because it's normal, natural. We've become so accustomed to seeing black men killed - in the movies and on the evening news - that we now accept it as standard operating procedure. No big deal! That's what blacks do - kill and die. Ho-hum. Pass the butter.

It's odd that, despite the fact that most crimes are committed by whites, black faces are usually attached to what we think of as "crime". Ask any white person who they fear might break into their home or harm them on the street and, if they're honest, they'll admit that the person they have in mind doesn't look much like them. The imaginary criminal in their heads looks like Mookie or Hakim or Kareem, not little freckle-faced Jimmy.

No matter how many times their fellow whites make it clear that the white man is the one to fear, it simply fails to register. Every time you turn on the TV to news of another school shooting, it's always a white kid who's conducting the massacre. Every time they catch a serial killer, it's a crazy white guy. Every time a terrorist blows up a federal building, or a madman gets 400 people to drink Kool-Aid, or a Beach Boys songwriter casts a spell causing half a dozen nymphets to murder "all the piggies" in the Hollywood Hills, you know it's a member of the white race up to his old tricks.

So why don't we run like hell when we see whitey coming toward us? Why don't we ever greet the Caucasian job applicant with, "Gee, uh, I'm sorry, there aren't any positions available right now"? Why aren't we worried sick about our daughters marrying white guys? And why isn't Congress trying to ban the scary and offensive lyrics of Johnny Cash ("I shot a man in Reno/just to watch him die"), the Dixie Chicks ("Earl had to die"), or Bruce Springsteen ("I killed everything in my path/I can't say that I'm sorry for the things that we done").

Why the focus on rap lyrics? Why doesn't the media print lyrics such as the following, and tell the truth? "I sold bottles of sorrow, then chose poems and novels" (Wu-Tang Clan); "People use yo' brain to gain" (Ice Cube); "A poor single mother on welfare... tell me how ya did it" (Tupac Shakur); "I'm trying to change my life, see I don't wanna die a sinner" (Master P).

African-Americans have been on the lowest rung of the economic ladder since the day they were dragged here in chains. Every other immigrant group has been able to advance from the bottom to the higher levels of our society. Even Native Americans, who are among the poorest of the poor, have fewer children living in poverty than African-Americans.

You probably thought things had got better for blacks in this country. After all, considering the advances we've made eliminating racism in our society, one would think our black citizens might have seen their standard of living rise. A survey published in the Washington Post in July 2001 showed that 40%-60% of white people thought the average black person had it as good or better than the average white person.

Think again. According to a study conducted by the economists Richard Vedder, Lowell Gallaway and David C Clingaman, the average income for a black American is 61% less per year than the average white income. That is the same percentage difference as it was in 1880. Not a damned thing has changed in more than 120 years.

Want more proof? Consider the following:

· Black heart attack patients are far less likely than whites to undergo cardiac catheterisation, regardless of the race of their doctors.

· Whites are five times more likely than blacks to receive emergency clot-busting treatment after suffering a stroke.

· Black women are four times more likely than white women to die while giving birth.

· Black levels of unemployment have been roughly twice those of whites since 1954.

So how have we white people been able to get away with this? Caucasian ingenuity! You see, we used to be real dumb. Like idiots, we wore our racism on our sleeve. We did really obvious things, like putting up signs on rest-room doors that said WHITES ONLY. We made black people sit at the back of the bus. We prevented them from attending our schools or living in our neighbourhoods. They got the crappiest jobs (those advertised for NEGROES ONLY), and we made it clear that, if you weren't white, you were going to be paid a lower wage.

Well, this overt, over-the-top segregation got us into a heap of trouble. A bunch of uppity lawyers went to court. They pointed out that the 14th Amendment doesn't allow for anyone to be treated differently because of their race. Eventually, after a long procession of court losses, demonstrations and riots, we got the message: if you're going to be a successful racist, better find a way to do it with a smile on your face.

We even got magnanimous enough to say, "Sure, you can live here in our neighborhood; your kids can go to our kids' school. Why the hell not? We were just leaving, anyway." We smiled, gave black America a pat on the back - and then ran like the devil to the suburbs.

At work, we whites still get the plum jobs, double the pay, and a seat in the front of the bus to happiness and success. We've rigged the system from birth, guaranteeing that black people will go to the worst schools, thus preventing them from admission to the best colleges, and paving their way to a fulfilling life making our caffe lattes, servicing our BMWs, and picking up our trash. Oh, sure, a few slip by - but they pay an extra tariff for the privilege: the black doctor driving his BMW gets pulled over continually by the cops; the black Broadway actress can't get a cab after the standing ovation; the black broker is the first to be laid off because of "seniority".

We whites really deserve some kind of genius award for this. We talk the talk of inclusion, we celebrate the birthday of Dr King, we frown upon racist jokes. We never fail to drop a mention of "my friend - he's black..." We make sure we put our lone black employee up at the front reception desk so we can say, "See - we don't discriminate. We hire black people."

Yes, we are a very crafty, cagey race - and damn if we haven't got away with it!

I wonder how long we will have to live with the legacy of slavery. That's right. I brought it up. SLAVERY. You can almost hear the groans of white America whenever you bring up the fact that we still suffer from the impact of the slave system. Well, I'm sorry, but the roots of most of our social ills can be traced straight back to this sick chapter of our history. African-Americans never got a chance to have the same fair start that the rest of us got. Their families were willfully destroyed, their language and culture and religion stripped from them. Their poverty was institutionalized so that our cotton could get picked, our wars could be fought, our convenience stores could remain open all night. The America we've come to know would never have come to pass if not for the millions of slaves who built it and created its booming economy - and for the millions of their descendants who do the same dirty work for whites today.

It's not as if we're talking ancient Rome here. My grandfather was born just three years after the Civil War. That's right, my grandfather. My great-uncle was born before the Civil War. And I'm only in my 40s. Sure, people in my family seem to marry late, but the truth remains: I'm just two generations from slave times. That, my friends, is not a "long time ago". In the vast breadth of human history, it was only yesterday. Until we realize that, and accept that we do have a responsibility to correct an immoral act that still has repercussions today, we will never remove the single greatest stain on the soul of our country

© Michael Moore, 2002.

https://www.theguardian.com/books/2002/mar/30/features.weekend

I read this excerpt from Moore’s book at an open mic night at a coffee shop shortly after the book release in 2002. Moore has been labeled contentious and divisive. He was at the cutting edge in helping those impacted by the water crisis in Flint, MI. I can relate to this piece as I have never been harmed by a black person and what I have seen in the media throughout my 4+ decades has been a complete disconnect. 

[twelvesignsrp]

congratulations bella, aquarius is now indigo watson with the faceclaim halsey !

APPLICATION

Character Sign: Aquarius

Character name: Indigo Watson Birthday: 2/14/97 Sexuality: Unsure Gender: Non-binary (pronouns she/her) Moon Sign: Taurus Faceclaim: Ashley Nicolette Frangipane (Halsey) Power: Illusion Manipulation, Indigo would be able to project images that seem real as long as they are not touched and she has to be within a five feet distance from their illusion at all times. She has been practiced quietly on their own and is the on the brink of making their illusions almost entirely solidified (meaning that they do seem very real unless the person knows their an illusion) but her reach is still lacking. After the power up, Indigo discover that she can create the illusion of their appearance changing even though she can look in the mirror and see her true self everyone within ten feet proximity sees the facade. Although at the moment, her latter power is extremely sporadic and can happen whenever their temper flares (which is hella often so it’s extremely difficult to control). What do they study?: Her paperwork says criminal justice, but she happens to be taking more music classes than needed for her degree and it’s obvious that she won’t be changing her degree since that’s what she was accepted for. However that won’t stop her from singing all the time.

Biography: A noble father decided against his families wishes and became a police officer in a more impoverished area where gangs and violence was prominent and thriving. With a strong sense of justice, he soon was able to rehabilitate a woman who grew up between foster care and her drug addicted mother who would have weeks of not knowing who she was most of time. Guiding the woman as a mentor soon blossomed into love between two people with ten year age difference who eloped without either families blessing and began to live within the neighborhood where the mother grew up.

When Indigo Watson was born, she was welcomed with love and kindness from both of her parents who saw her as a blessing. Her mother who stayed home and home schooled Indigo during her middle school age, in fear that she would fall into the wrong crowd during puberty. Unlike what was expected, Indigo exceeded all expectations on her grades and was able to get along with others in high school despite the fact that her father was a cop. Although she was not in touch with her extended family, she counted everyone within their community as uncles and aunts and their children as her cousins. Her father raised her not to dwell on prejudices or labels that were created to oppress others, and she soon learned to love everyone from the drug dealer next door to the prostitute on her street corner.

Everything was going well for Indigo, she had good grades and participated in everything she could. Everyone was aware of her gender identity and didn’t even blink in surprise, she never did subscribe to gender scripts. Her life felt fulfilling, without much money or perfect neighborhood; she made up for everything she lacked, thrifting most of her eccentric outfits and helping do volunteer work to help better where she resided. That was until the accident.

Her father, the cop who everyone loved for his silly personality and forgiving nature towards even the most questionable characters. Was caught in the cross fire of gang violence and was shot fatally, but he could have been saved but was deserted by the boys and men there that night. That’s when Indigo changed, no more the sweet girl with long hair. Chopping off her hair and experimenting with colors, she no longer held a permanent smile on her face but the expression of someone who couldn’t care less. But this made everyone care more, she started to party in more of a reckless way but never let anyone drive her home and instead depended on the cops to escort her home knowing they wouldn’t turn her in for underage drinking. She started to ask more questions, usually followed by a melodic laugh throwing most through a loop. Trying to decide where to shift the blame for her father. And how to exact revenge. She began to create a facade for herself, the party girl with zero inhibitions and way with her gaze. Digging deeper into the gang scene and even dating some of the higher ups to collect intel, her goal to search out exactly who was there and giving them what they deserved.

Following in her cousin’s footsteps and advice, she applied to Durham and was accepted on a criminal justice scholarship based on her essay about her father’s sacrifice and the lengthy list of volunteer work. When she was packing her bag to drive up to where she would be residing for a few years she was looking through her dad’s office one more time when she found something that left her sobbing on the ground.

A symbol of a gang, a ruby red ear piercing with the initials that seemed familiar. After questioning and digging around, she kept hearing the same infamous initials of one of the most wealthy and powerful gangs in the area. How they depended on help from city officials often bribing them with expensive jewelry and more money than beyond their wildest dreams. Indigo began to tear through every nook and cranny in the office, never thinking of suspecting her father of anything so dirty and always keeping her eyes on the gangs instead. Finding tax papers that didn’t add up, phone numbers that were blocked or used by burn phones, and even a stash of drugs. She knew what she needed to do. Burn the evidence. Her father was a hero, her mother was finally finding love with someone else and she was only accepted into college because of her father’s sacrifice. If this came to light, she would be ruined. She wasn’t ready for that. Not now, not ever.

While joining in on the festivities, she would think of how funny it would be if the fire would turn blue. When it did, everyone seemed amused and delighted as they backed away from the cyan colored flames that flickered into the night sky. Indigo looked around at the others who commented at the color but when she turned to look at it, it turned back to it’s original shade with everyone sighing in boredom and her eyes wide. Had she just created that? Within the next few weeks, she realized that changing the color of flames weren’t just the extent. She could create, and project whatever her heart desired within reason. From food on a plate to a person walking down the street, she found that it would soon dissipate if touched or she was too far away. It often took creativity and focus but with the extensive amount of homework from her classes, she had not much of either. She began taking some fun classes, which included singing. She found herself falling in love with music and the way it would create the illusion of whatever the singer wanted. Secretly she began to practice her magic more, and taking classes that were no longer necessary for her degree. All awhile keeping up her own image, not ready to shake the person she was in senior year of high school just yet. She had some investigating to do.

Five interesting facts about your character:

Indigo is rarely seen without makeup, never in public especially (the bare minimum is BB cream and highlight).

Has nerves of steel and is almost never startled or scared, will often deadpan if you try to scare her and glare slightly.

Along with being a talented singer, she is also a pretty good free style rapper but she usually only does this as her party trick.

Has never been drunk at a party, although she drinks excessively and behaves in a stereotypical manner of a drunk girl she is not a light weight and can usually out drink the boys.

Collects earrings, in a peculiar way. If she has a one night stand, she will take one of their earrings (usually the cheap ones) or if she finds earrings randomly at parties she will keep them.

Character Quote:

“She is water.

Soft enough to offer life

tough enough to drown it away.” -Rapi Kaur ‘Milk and Honey’

If your character had a patronus what would it be? and why?

A wildcat, gentle and beautiful from a distance but hidden underneath soft paws are claws ready to fight tooth and nail for what she wants.

WRITING SAMPLE

Ruby red earring studs with the initials D.C engraved on the metal back; hidden between two books on the shelf, found as Indigo searched for her father’s criminology books. Feeling her heart shatter in her chest, she drops the earring on the floor as she felt her tears well up and spill out. Crying for the first time since the funeral. Pulling out every book and throwing to the floor, which came out empy before eyeing the filing cabinent which she kicked over and scattered the papers everywhere. It was easy to see that the numbers didn’t add up, it was as if the taxes were being omitted somehow from an off shore account that her dad seemed to moving from his personal account. With her eyes watering, she moved to the desk of dark wood and secrets it seemed; dragging all of drawers open and slamming them onto the floor and examining the contents. A small amount of drugs zipped up, the same drug that sealed her grandma’s life with an OD but it was small enough to be decriminalized. But it was enough.

Burning the evidence in the abandoned building they found her father’s body as she watched with cold eyes. The flames reeked of poision and lies that seemed to have run in her father’s veins. How long had he been in cahoots with the most dangerous gang in the province? Why did he even go to that meeting? Was he the one to bring out a gun? All the questions ran through her mind as her eyes reflected flames, and one question repeated in her mind as the papers crumbled and turned crisp. Did he deserve it?