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mrpenguinpants · 1 year

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Low Battery Warning - Touch Starved HCs

— If he goes too long without you by his side, he starts to get irritable and too frustrating for anyone to deal with. For the sake of everyone, please remember to recharge your battery before leaving for extended periods of time.

— Tartaglia, Kaveh, Ayato, Alhaitham, and Dottore

[Masterlist]

I JUST WANT TO WRITE WHIPPED MEN OKAY? What do you mean I have to write a part 2 for two different fics??? I'm honestly surprised I managed to finish this. Also, ALHAITHAM NATION REJOICE, YOUR BOY IS HERE AND I CAN FINALLY MAKE A BANNER. I wasn't going to write him (I'm a kaveh stan) but now that he's here...

Tartaglia

While Tartaglia is the most favored to work with compared to the other Harbingers, that's only by a very slim margin. The closest you'll get to death is when the man gets bored and randomly picks someone to fight, but they usually make it out alive. Maybe a couple weeks in the medical bay and a few broken bones but they aren't dead for the most part. He's also the youngest and therefore the most easy-going even if he's a bit childish. He's a soldier first so he knows the pain of listening to someone verbally beat you down and not having the power to do anything back. But he's still a person at the end of the day and after so many people messing up and delaying his work, he's starting to get irritated. First, it was someone spilling tea onto important documents that he just finished signing, then the Fatui agents stationed near Jueyun Karst being defeated by some no-named treasure hoarders, and then finally being held hostage in his own office because the Liyue Qixing wouldn't leave him alone. God, he slumps over his desk, he just wants to go home and see you!

By the time he finally stumbles through the door, you're already passed out on the couch. He can't blame you, it's very late into the night and he would probably be more upset if you forced yourself to stay awake just to welcome him home. But he can still pout that he was taken away from you for so long, he didn't even get to see you all day. That's borderline torture. But he supposes he can forgive you since you look so cute bundled up in his red shirt. If he happens to take a picture or two that's for his knowledge and eyes only. So he easily scoops you up into his arms, taking a couple seconds to just stand there as he basks in the comfortable weight before he takes you to bed. Just for tonight. This will be the last time work takes him away from home for so long.

It lasts for two weeks. Usually, Childe could hold himself together, he's been away for far longer, but the fact that you're right there and he can't hold you is driving him insane. By the 14th day, Childe is ready to snap his pen in half and hurl it at the next person that comes through that cursed door. He doesn't though because it's usually Ekaterina, the only one that has the balls to talk to him right now, and she deserves far more than she's paid to deal with. But he's touch-deprived and tired. Even Zhongli with his infinite amount of patience advises him to sort himself out before inviting him out to lunch next time. He tried to deal with it on his own, this isn't the first time he's felt claustrophobic, but after the fifth Hilichurl camp he doesn't feel any better which only makes his mood sour further. He might even beat Scaramouche in how short-tempered he is right now. There's heavy air wherever he goes and whatever carefree persona he usually has on is thrown out the window.

It's Zhongli who clues you into how bad Childe's demeanor has gotten, the rascal looks horrible both physically and mentally. Despite the consultant and Childe being on friendly terms, you don't really know the man that well. But he doesn't seem like the type of person to lie so you thank him for the information and make your way to the Northland Bank. To be honest, you've been feeling the effects of not seeing Childe as often as you usually do. You know his work can get so hectic that it keeps him cooped up in his office but it's been a while since you've even seen that fluff of ginger hair. He usually doesn't want you near his work considering how it might put you in danger, but if he isn't taking care of himself then what kind of partner would you be if you didn't help?

Even outside the building, you can feel the effects of what Zhongli talked about. All the agents look like they're on their last legs, there's a gloomy atmosphere surrounding the building even though the sun shines brightly across Liyue harbor, and you can vaguely hear an annoyed Harbinger scolding someone. As soon as you set foot into the building Ekaterina nearly tackles you off your feet. Desperately thanking you for coming and looking at you as if you're the Tsaritsa herself.

As soon as Ekaterina says your name, Childe whips his head around at such a speed that you're afraid his head might fling off as his eyes lock onto yours. You know Childe wouldn't hurt you, never you, but he's looking at you like he's about to devour you and you're suddenly very glad you've never been on the receiving end of his anger. He shoves the papers in his hands into the agent's chest he was probably reprimanding and marches over to where you are.

"C-Childe?" "S-Sir?"

Ekaterina mirrors the wary call of his name until he's finally in front of you and without a word, throws his arms around you. You stumble a bit under his weight but you quickly circle your arms around his back and hold on tight so you don't trip over your own feet. You can only imagine what it looks like for Ekaterina to see her stiff boss suddenly deflate in your arms. A pleased groan escapes from him as he basically lifts you off your feet just so he can hug you closer to him. You almost feel like a child's teddy bear with your legs dangling in the air trapped in a crushing hug. You know that your relationship with Childe isn't a secret but you both don't show any displays of affection, you don't even really interact in public in general, so this is pretty open for the two of you. Well, for you at least. You don't even think Childe is registering anything around him except that you're here.

"Are you okay милый?" you whisper into his ear, nuzzling into the side of his head that's nestled into your shoulder. Your snezhnaya is a little rough around the edges but from how he seems to purr you think he enjoys it nonetheless. "Although I'm happy to see you too, don't you think we should move so we aren't blocking the main entrance?"

He sleepily blinks awake and slowly starts to acknowledge that you're both very much standing at the bank's entrance with everyone shamelessly staring. He frankly looks like he doesn't care, people have working legs, they can walk around you both. But he also doesn't want anyone to find another reason to take him away when he's very comfortable.

"If you need me, don't," is the clipped order that rings out through the bank. You know he's heavily censoring what he actually wants to say but from how everyone cowers away, they can probably tell what would happen if they disobey him. They all give him a nod and a salute before he's picking you up, cradles you into your arms, and swiftly walks upstairs. With a kick of his boot, the door slams shut and he sinks into his chair, you seated pretty on his lap.

"Please never leave me, I think I might die," he groans, re-wrapping his arms tight around your waist. You can only sigh fondly as you gently run your fingers through his hair, rubbing small circles into his scalp and he melts into goo. As if you would want to leave.

Kaveh

You know Kaveh is a bit...eccentric to say the least. He always says what's on his mind and most of the time his thoughts are things he should keep to himself. Even you're not totally immune to his blunt honesty despite the fact he tries to watch how he phrases things when directed to you. He doesn't want to accidentally hurt your feelings, regardless if you know he means no harm. It's rather cute that for someone who doesn't care about what others think of him, he's a bit insecure around you. He likes you, really likes you, and he often finds himself plotting out what he's going to say hours before your lunch date with him. But as soon as you greet him with that charming smile and a brief hug, he turns into putty and whatever flowery language he conjured in his mind is swept away. The confident architect that graduated with honors is reduced to a red-faced mess of stumbling words. It doesn't help that you find it adorable enough to press a chaste kiss to his red cheek and he swears that he's going to pass out from a heat stroke.

He's both extremely glad and terribly conflicted that your love language seems to be touch. He loves it when you brush your fingers through his hair but it always lulls him into sleep so he doesn't get any work done. He loves it when you hug him tightly but then he never wants to leave so he doesn't get any work done. He loves it when you cup his cheeks and pull him into a kiss but then he goes in for seconds, then thirds, and so on that he doesn't get any work done. If he went into alchemy rather than architecture he would dedicate his life work to studying why you have the touch of an Archon that compels him so. But he didn't and now that he's drowning in debt, he really needs to concentrate and finish his work before the deadline.

So now he has the painful task of trying to find an extremely polite way of asking you to leave him alone without you taking offense and breaking up with him. He would be devastated if he couldn't see your loving gaze on him again. But the situation is dire because as soon as he sees you, all he wants to do is curl up in bed with you in his arms. Preferably forever but he'll cross that bridge when he gets there. But every time he tries to bring it up it only takes one look from you for him to stutter and wave off his words. He tries to pep talk himself and every single time he claims that this will be the day that he, very politely, pushes you off, it ends with him melting into goo and waking up the next day with all his untouched work judging him from the table.

It gets to the point that he begins to air his grievances to Alhaitham of all people. To be fair, he doesn't expect the scribe to listen to a word he says and if he did, it would only be because Kaveh needed to pay his share of the rent. But he's pleasantly surprised when you pop up with a guilty smile and that Alhaitham explained his circumstances to you. He tries to clear up the situation, he has no idea what Alhaitham said specifically but it must have been put in the worst way possible, but you take his hands and he shuts up immediately. You give him a light giggle that melts his heart and you tell him to call for you once he's completed his work.

It was the worst decision he's ever made. Second to moving in with Alhaitham. Maybe his judgment of you being an angel was a lie and you were secretly the devil from how often his thoughts were plagued by you. He could draw a circle and think of your eyes. He knows that he's smitten in your presence but he didn't expect that to double when he's suddenly alone. His only motivation is that as soon as he's finished, he'll be able to see you again. But his mind and his work bleed together and he ends up drawing your face instead of buildings and pipes.

He ends up locking himself in his studio and slowly deforming into slime with how awful he's taking care of himself. Alhaitham has to pry him from the table only for Kaveh to flop in his arms that the scribe gives up and hauls the corpse over his shoulder and makes his way to your home. Kaveh still needs to pay his share of the rent so he's not allowed to die before then.

When you opened the door you weren't expecting Alhaitham at your doorstep with Kaveh over his shoulder. He doesn't seem to want to be in this situation either because it looks like he's two seconds away from throwing your boyfriend across the room. But he manages to reign everything in front of you and quickly explains Kaveh's situation, dumping said man into your arms, and telling you to fix it. You shoot him an apologetic smile that he waves off, it's not like it's your fault, before turning around and making his way back to his own home.

"Kaveh?" you whisper gently against his ear to not startle him. It only takes him a second to register your voice before he's perking up and beaming at you. He easily shifts positions so you're in his arms instead. Twirling you around and using the momentum to tuck an arm under your knees and smoothly picking you up, somehow supporting your entire weight in one arm while the other closes the door. Sometimes you forget that Kaveh is really strong despite his lean stature. He is a claymore user after all.

"Darling! What are you doing here?" Kaveh questions while he makes himself at home. If only your living space was big enough for him to store all his work otherwise he would have moved in with you by now.

"Alhaitham mentioned that your recent commission was taking up all your time and you weren't taking care of yourself. Are you alright?" you ask, wrapping your arms around his neck to steady yourself while Kaveh takes his shoes and coat off. In these types of moments, no matter what you do or say he'll refuse to let you out of his arms. If he has to live with one arm then he'll gladly do so just so long as his other hand is wrapped around you.

"Never better," he replies with a smile. He's obviously lying given the dark circles under his pretty red eyes but the soft look he sends you is enough to tell you that right now, he's never been more comfortable. It makes you a bit flustered to have such an intense gaze on you but Kaveh is always forward with his affections and this isn't any different. With you in his arms, there's nowhere for you to run to when he tilts your chin down and brushes his lips against yours.

"Be still for me..." he whispers, the vibrations of his voice tingling against your skin as both of your eyes slowly close. Only for the moment to shatter by loud knocks on your door. You both jerk apart and turn to the disturbance with varying expressions. You're a flustered mess while Kaveh scowls as if the door offended his entire life's work. He finally sets you down on your feet and gives you a quick peck on the cheek. Before marching to the door, flinging it open, and telling the man on the other side to shoo before slamming the door in his face. Unless the world is ending, don't knock.

Ayato

To say Ayato works hard is an understatement. There are several nights when he's glued to his desk rather than resting in bed. Such are the woes of him being forever dedicated to his duties as the Yashiro Commissioner. On days when there are big events and everything needs to be perfect, he's nearly inconsolable that Thoma weighs how much he can get away with if he knocks Ayato out with a frying pan. His pondering doesn't go far because even though Ayato looks like a corpse from the lack of sleep, he'd probably knock Thoma off his feet before the housekeeper could even raise his arms. Ayaka has better luck but she's only able to drag him away for a few minutes before he points in a random direction to divert her attention before disappearing as soon as she turns back. It's just something everyone is aware of and they try their best to support Lord Kamisato. But if it starts to look really bad, like Ayato might drop dead at any second, then you're called in. The last defense and their ace up the sleeve. Not to brag or anything but you have a spotless record and you intend to keep it that way.

It only takes one word from you to have the dignified and cunning Ayato turn into a scared rabbit. His name. None of the wary calls of Lord Kamisato, a dismissal of his titles, and certainly not your affectionate terms of endearment. It always brings the temperature of the room to zero and Ayaka has to double-check that her cyro vision didn't accidentally activate. Unlike Thoma and Ayaka, you're not soft on him and you set your foot down when it comes to his extremes. One of the many reasons he fell in love with you but it's coming back to bite him now. He hates seeing you unhappy, doing anything possible to wipe that frown off your face, but when it's him that's making you so displeased he can't help but look like a scolded puppy.

It doesn't take much for you to know that Ayato has overworked himself to the breaking point again. You understand his duties mean that he's going to be riddled with work but you're his partner first and foremost. You're there to care about Ayato, not the Yashiro Commissioner. And Ayato looks like he's falling apart at the seams. Heavy eye bags, pale complexion, and his body swaying back and forth before he catches himself from falling over. It pains your heart to see him like this and yet still push himself to keep going. So you take one, two, and three steps towards him to delicately take his hand in yours, rubbing soothing circles into his palm before intertwining your fingers together.

Unlike Thoma and Ayaka, he doesn't disappear as soon as you take your eyes off him. Just stands there and stares dopily at you while you issue orders to take over his work. God, you look so attractive when you're in control. It's been a while since he's seen anything but paper and ink but did you always look this beautiful? He's so glad he's going to marry you. Maybe he can force the elders to move the ceremony date up. Everyone in the room politely ignores the fact that Ayato is saying these thoughts out loud and how red your face has gotten.

He doesn't object when you pull him out of the room with you, blindly following you wherever you happen to lead him by the hand. As long as your hand is in his, he'll follow you to the ends of the earth if you'll allow it. It's a bit comical how the dignified Yashiro Commissioner recedes into himself and crumbles away into a love-sick man just by a simple touch. At much as it makes you feel a bit shy, it's nice to know that Ayato won't try and weasel his way out of your grasp and return to his work.

If anything he clings to you like an onikabuto on a tree. You have to waddle your way to the baths with an oversized blue-haired man refusing to let go and draping himself over your back. You know he's making this as hard as possible on purpose, just do you can dote and pamper him a bit longer before he succumbs to slumber and has to return to work. It dampens his mood thinking of the future but it's quickly ushered away by the warm water poured over his head. It's fitting that his vision is hydro because he fits himself into the space you provide as you begin to scrub his hair clean.

There's something meditative about having his hair washed by your hands that no one else can replicate. It's a luxury that he only receives when he works hard enough that his arms hang uselessly at his sides and his body slumps into itself. Soft and malleable, completely willing to bend and mold in whatever shape you wish. But your hands scrub through his hair gently, rubbing all the stress out of his body and never complaining. Right now there's nothing else that matters more than being here with you and you with him.

"I'm going to rinse your hair out. Close your eyes now," you softly say and he follows your instructions. The rush of warm water is soothing to his ears although it sparks something in his memory that momentarily takes him out of this romantic moment. He reaches blindly behind him to take your hand, rubbing circles into your palm to halt your actions.

"It's just occurred to me but aren't you supposed to be on a trip to Watatsumi island?" he opens his eyes to peer up at you, his long eyelashes tipped with water droplets reminding you of just how pretty Ayato is. It's almost a good enough distraction for you to forget why exactly you're here rather than speaking with Kokomi right now. Almost.

"I was but someone had to go and work himself to death again. You need to take better care of yourself Ayato. I don't want to see Thoma running across all of Inazuma just to drag me back because you can't seem to sit still for a few seconds," your frown deepens with each sentence. Your free hand that's not in his grasp is knocking against his forehead, albeit not hard enough to cause any actual pain. He only chuckles before pulling you into the water with him until you're sitting on the edge of the bathtub. His head lay comfortably against your thighs.

"Apologies." He's not sorry at all. "When you're not beside me I have to throw myself into my work or else I may go insane."

"Oh so now all of this is my fault," you huff exasperated but he can hear the undertones of how happy that sentence makes you. "Come on, you'll catch a cold if we stay here any longer."

"Mmm, indulge me," he mumbles into your skin, his eyes closing once again with a content smile on his face. He doesn't need to see to know that you have an equally fond expression.

"Oh, so now my lord wishes to relax?"

"Only because you're here."

Alhaitham

You know that your relationship with Alhaitham is unusual to onlookers. You're both polar opposites and yet somehow stumbled into a rather healthy and committed relationship. To others, Alhaitham is a talented and intelligent man. The perfect bachelor if it wasn't for his "extraordinary sense of individualism" that he doesn't pay attention to people around him. He's notorious for being hard to get along with that not even his handsome face is enough for people to sit around for too long. Meanwhile, there's you. A wandering traveler who takes work whenever anyone needs an extra pair of hands. You're a bit well-known for accepting any job that pays well regardless of how dangerous or weird it might be. But unlike Alhaitham, you're more than happy to make conversation and you're often seen conversing with scholars from every one of the Six Darshans.

To everyone's knowledge, it's you that's the clingy one. You always have a hand around his arm or throw yourself at him shamelessly. Everyone assumes that Alhaitham tolerates it because he never pushes you off but he doesn't reciprocate affection to the degree that you do. If only those nosy scholars could see him now. Your newest job has you traveling to the Chasm to help collect and study the newly opened area. While the Chasm is close to Sumeru, a series of mysterious accidents led the entire mine to be closed. With the Liyue Qizing gradually reopening the area there's a lot of ground to cover. Alhaitham doesn't care much for the details except that this means you'll be away from him for a few years rather than a few weeks. As soon as you told him the expected date you'll return his face instantly soured. It was so cute that you couldn't help but press kisses to the corners of his mouth until they lifted. But one thing led to another and you're now trapped underneath his strong figure for the past couple of hours with no signs of him letting go. Every day you're gone equates to one minute he gets to keep you here.

No matter how much Alhaitham wishes to make you stay, even going so far as to bribe you, you eventually gather your things, press one last kiss to his lips, and leave him in his too-quiet house. He doesn't want to admit it but as soon as he closes the door he already feels lonely. But he'll learn to cope and continue with his life. He's been through more challenging obstacles and made it through. It's only two years, 3 months, 14 minutes, and 58 seconds. Alhaitham sighs and leans against the door. He's not going to make it.

Everyone else is content to whisper behind their hands about how the scribe seems to be more hostile. While Alhaitham doesn't have the most friendly personality, he's still somewhat polite until someone gives him a reason to exit the conversation. But now Alhaitham can barely get two sentences in before insulting someone. He doesn't even mean to do it on purpose, it just slips out. A girl who happens to share your eye color is met with a backhanded compliment that she should eat more fish. A man whose skin color is just a shade lighter than yours is met with an irritated scowl before he could even say anything. It's only now that people start to miss your presence because anything is better than a walking warning sign.

It only takes a few weeks for him to crack. He's not usually this starved of attention but the knowledge that he won't see you for another two years has him itching at his wrists. While on the outside there doesn't seem to be any changes, he's perfectly calm and collected, but his facade breaks when he starts making rash decisions. When he heard that his senior Kaveh needed a place to stay due to his financial situation, he offered to live with him much to everyone and his own surprise. Even Kaveh suspiciously asks why Alhaitham is being so generous. He doesn't dignify it with a proper answer, only that he better get his situation fixed within the next two years or the scribe is kicking him out.

As the second year rolls past, it's Kaveh who brings up Alhaitham's sudden mood change. He seems...excited. Kaveh chalks it up to Alhaitham being happy that Kaveh is finally moving out but that'd be kind of low even for someone like Alhaitham. As someone who cares about the arts and romance, there's a certain care in how Alhaitham cleans the house. Every systematic movement is laced with a longing gaze. His wrists are rubbed raw that Kaveh has to physically step in or he might rub so hard he reaches the bone. But above all the dangerous aura around Alhaitham is replaced with something Kaveh can only describe as restless patience.

"Honey, I'm home!" your happy voice is accompanied by the loud slam of the door crashing against the wall. Kaveh is startled by a random stranger entering their house but mostly at the term of endearment. Alhaitham only lowers his book at your voice before going back to reading. A bit rude in Kaveh's opinion but he can see the small smile that Alhaitham tries to hide behind the pages of his book. It's not like you aren't a bit devious yourself. So you retaliate by plucking the book out of his hands, taking a quick glance at his page number before placing it on the desk.

"Welcome back. I assume your job went well?" Alhaitham sighs as you kick his legs apart, plop yourself down into his lap, and rest your head against his chest. If you weren't so enthralled by the masterpiece that was Alhaitham's physique, you would have laughed at how the blond-haired man seemed to stare owlishly at the scene. His eyes almost fall out of their heads when Alhaitham doesn't push you off, doesn't throw you over his shoulder, or even make the slightest hint of being irritated or embarrassed. He just places his hands around your waist, rests his chin on your head, and sends an icy glare to which the blond-haired man scoffs before excusing himself. It's not anything different from what he usually does to onlookers although this is you and you can tell just how weary he is. How deeply he relaxes in your hold as the tension melts from his shoulders. How his eyes search over your body for any injuries that you might have gotten. It does look like you got a bit roughed up during your stay at the Chasm. Your hair is cut shorter than he remembers, you've put on some muscle, and there are a few nicks and cuts running along parts of your skin that are visible. But none of that matters because you're here. You're finally here.

"Aww, Haitham did you miss me?" you tease only to quickly eat your words when he manuever's you sideways so he can pin your back against the couch. You're hit with a sense of deja vu back to two years ago when you were about to leave for this trip.

"The next time you take a commission that lasts longer than two weeks, I'm coming with you or you're not going at all," he grumbles as he tucks himself into the crook of your neck with no signs of leaving. You laugh now but he's dead serious.

Dottore

You aren't sure when it started but at some point, you've been labeled as "Dottore's Favourite". He always seems to be the slightest bit nicer if you happen to be there, his voice a smidge less aggressive, and a lot more touchy. He's a Doctor first so he doesn't want to be contaminated by whatever bacteria people have gathered. But with you, he always seems to have a hand on you. Either harshly pinching your cheeks like a child with a crazed grin whenever you mumble something he deems stupid or pulling your arm of out its socket as he yanks you through the hallways of his lab. You act almost as his shadow, permanently glued to his feet and forced to follow wherever he goes.

You wouldn't consider yourself exceptional at your job but you did know how to listen. Perhaps it was your blatant disregard for your lack of safety since your head was always in the clouds that let you do your job with a steady hand. You don't blame your college's, it's hard to work under so much stress. If you had to do quantum physics and whatever the hell smart people do with someone who could, and would, kill you on the spot if you couldn't tell him what 3567 x 438 was on the spot, you think you could have exploded and crumbled on the spot. But you were just the ditzy receptionist who twirled a pencil on her nose more than on a paper. The only thing you were required to do was make sure Dottore was never bothered and let him know if anyone important needed his attention.

You've seen the Regrator the most compared to the rest of the Harbingers. You don't know what a banker needs from a doctor but you're not about to ask. It's not your business and you aren't paid enough to care about what your boss does. Besides, for such a handsome face his presence creeps you out which is saying something considering there's a maniacal doctor that treats human lives like numbers on a stats page. But since you are his "receptionist" you have to make conversation with him. Most of your interaction extends to him asking if the Doctor is in and you politely saying that he's out. You both pointedly ignore the loud crashes and angry yelling from one of his segments behind the closed steel door.

Once again, you don't consider yourself exceptional at your job. You're just a lousy receptionist at a place that doesn't require it and who spends all their time spinning in the office chair than doing actual work. You're just as replaceable as any grunt in this hell hole. So when Tartaglia waltzes through the doors, blinking at you with his dead fish eyes, before nodding to himself and hauling you out of your chair you can only hope that Dottore manages to remember that he has a meeting with Pantalone at noon.

You're hardly gone for an hour. Tartaglia was just bored, bored enough to come to Dottore of all people, that he happened to spot you who looked equally as bored. He just roughed you up a little before he deemed you completely useless and a horrible fighter before sending you back on your way. Seriously, if he wanted a fight he should have just picked one of the skirmishers instead of a damn receptionist. Although you may have to reconsider your position because as soon as you walk back into the lab, a girl is throwing herself at you and demanding where you've been.

You don't get the chance to answer before she's hurriedly running down twisting hallways, down the stairs, and punching in codes so complicated it looked like she was trying to make music out of them. Whatever questions you have are ignored in favor of getting you somewhere as fast as possible. It begins to make sense when you're finally shoved into a room, the girl who dragged you all this way throwing herself onto her knees and begging for forgiveness for letting you wander off.

The lab is an absolute disaster. This isn't the organized chaos you're acquainted with but the aftermath of a manic episode you're familiar with. Glass shards dripping with fluorescent liquid, research notes torn apart that flutter around the room as faux snow, and one mad doctor in the middle.

"Where have you been?"

For someone who destroyed years worth of progress, he sounds oddly calm and collected. His deep voice is firm while he fiddles with a test tube of blue liquid, watching it slosh around before placing it onto a broken table. He barely pays any mind to the girl currently on her hands and knees, forehead pressed to the ground while she glares at you to say something.

"Out," is your reply. A casual shrug of your shoulders even though the Dottore's back is to you. He's not wearing his usual white coat. That's too bad, you think it looks kinda cool. Really goes with his bird aesthetic.

"Out...out you say. Out. Out. Out," he mumbles softly, each time he say's the word "out", he taps the test tube harder onto the table. The lull in conversation only makes the pressure of the room drop lower before the tension snaps and he hurls the test tube at the girl still on her knees. It's only thanks to your reflexes that you manage to grab the collar of her uniform and throw her back just as the test tube collides with the floor, the liquid melting away the concrete where her head was. You can only give her a nudge and a look towards the door for her to scramble to her feet and flee as far away as she can. The slam of the door behind her acting as the nail in the coffin as Dottore's body seems to slump in on itself.

"Where have you been?" he asks again, running a hand through his messy hair. He sounds and looks far more tired, his fingers twitching to reach out and hold you but his pride stopping him. So you push yourself and step forward into his space, reaching your hands out to cup his face and rubbing soothing circles into his porcelain skin. He doesn't lean into your touch but he doesn't push you away either.

"Getting tossed around by Tartaglia. He came by saying he was bored and I just so happened to be there," you say absentmindedly, twirling the long lock of blue hair that hangs off the sides of his mask. He responds by snatching your wrist, squeezing hard enough until your bones creak. "Were you worried? Did you think I ran away?"

He doesn't dignify your question with a response. Simply shrugging your hands off his face before he reaches up to pinch your cheeks, a familiar cackle vibrating from his chest.

"As if you would have anywhere to go."

———

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paper-mario-wiki · 4 months

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genuine question coming from someone who is trying their best to support palestine but can't stomach condoning hamas's actions. how can you justify the murder of civilians and sexual violence that happened on october 7th? i know the fight for palestinian liberation is more important but they said orders to rape israeli women came from higher up in hamas. how can we support these people?

I will not be debating people in the notes of this post or in followup asks. I am not an authority on this subject, I am an individual giving commentary as I see it.

Do not attempt to follow this discourse up with intent to own me. You will waste your time and look stupid, I promise. Just unfollow and block me.

If your intent is genuine, and you are sincerely confused, then I will tell you that the first thing you must do is understand that your perspective of what happened on October 7th was not your own. It was made by a committee of communications officials and sold to you by news organizations to implant within you a version of what happened so that you would feel this precise feeling of hesitation, discomfort, and desire to withdraw yourself from the discussion. And that version is often full of blatant, contradictory, and easily fact-checkable lies. Israel knows that it doesn't have to make everyone support its cause to get away with it: if they can make enough people look away while they commit genocide, this too is a victory.

The sexual violence against Israeli women by Hamas has been vastly unsubstantiated, especially in comparison to the verifiable claims of IDF soldiers using sexual violence against Palestinian women. Go to any news articles and you will see "Claims of [number] of Israeli women raped by Hamas". You don't see firsthand reports, and you don't see consistent numbers, just people speaking for this group of unnamed and uncounted women. Further, many of the photos and videos of violence happening to women you see typically attached to these articles have turned out to be verified as Israeli soldiers assaulting Palestinian women during previous conflicts.

And that's another important note: previous conflicts. The date on everyone's mind has been October 7th, because that's when Hamas made an attack on the concert. Make no mistake, this was not the beginning of this conflict. And Palestine was not the aggressor.

Here is a graph of people killed as a result of the ongoing Israeli occupation of Palestine from 2002 to 2014. Notice, if you will, the yellow vs the pale blue. Can you guess which color represents which group? Just kidding you don't have to guess, the graph tells you.

After WW2, the European-Jewish population (which was 90% of the Jewish population at the time) emigrated to their holy land after over 1000 years. This land, now Palestine, had been under control by Muslim kingdoms since around 640 AD. The UN created a proposition following the Holocaust, submitted to create 2 states within Palestine: 54% would go to the Jewish population, and 46% would go to the Arab population. The Palestinian representatives rejected this proposal, but the Jewish representatives agreed, and over the next few years there would be a massive displacement of Muslims during what was called the Nakba; a cataclysmic event that saw 700,000 Palestinians (80% of them) displaced from the territory that the Israeli occupying force had claimed.

Since then there has been an ongoing pushing and cleansing of Palestinians over time. The remaining land that was not stolen during the 1948 mandate has been shrinking as Israel tightens its grip on the land and the people, exerting the force given to it by the United States to completely absorb the area. The process of which has been torturous and extraordinarily traumatic on the Palestinian population.

This map represents generations of murder, rape, and torture of Palestinians. A people who had their land forcefully taken from them, and have been made to be unwilling neighbors with their aggressors ever since. There are countless articles of IDF soldiers and Israeli citizens alike abusing Palestinians. Stealing their homes, starving their children, mocking their faith. This form of violent nationalism is born from Zionism, which was created by secular men, and has existed for less than a single century. The ideals of Zionism can only be seen out with the COMPLETE annihilation of the Palestinian people, something the terroristic Israeli force sees to go through with.

Hamas, at the moment, is fighting for the unconditional freedom of Palestine from their colonizers. We are seeing, in real time, the furious spirit of Palestine resisting what some of the worlds strongest military forces are trying to make to be their final death. In that impossible fight, they are seeing victories in urban warfare, and extreme coordination in guerilla tactics that we haven't seen since the Vietnam war. And during all of that, it has still been verifiably reported that they've been treating hostages well, many of them speaking positively about their time in captivity and expressing extreme dissatisfaction with Netanyahu's cabinet, something reflected in the staggering lack of direct interviews with hostages released.

Let's not mince words here, Hamas is absolutely killing people. Hamas is killing as many IDF soldiers as they possibly can, and yes, even some Israeli civilians have died. While it's true that these number significantly fewer than Palestinian civilian casualties, I'm not bold as to claim that that is not horrible. But this too is the fault of purposeful abuse of civilian population centers by the Israeli government. Ask yourself for a moment:

Why would Israel, being so aware of the horrifying whims of the savage Palestinians, allow a massive open-air concert to happen DIRECTLY on an unpatrolled border between Israel and Palestine? Why too does Israel insist on housing Civilian populations as close to Palestine as possible? They've already showed us: the military uses the deaths of their civilians as warrant to punish Palestinians in any way and to any extent they see fit.

Even if we're discounting the murderous occupier civilians shooting at Palestinian families and forcing them out of their life-long homes, it's still horrible to see otherwise incidentally innocent Israeli civilians die. Innocent death is inherently horrible. But even in a world where what happened on October 7th didn't happen, Israel intended to ensure the death, innocent or not, of all Palestinians who resist giving up their land. Hamas, Palestinian resistance groups, and now other Arab states have chosen to fight against this. Millions of people around the globe have chosen to unite and fight for them for this reason as well. It is why I support Palestine.

When a society lets mass atrocities happen in slow motion over decades, those atrocities become normal. And when those experiencing these atrocities fight back with economical blows of violence, it becomes a shocking disruption to the normal for those who haven't been paying attention, or were born into it; something the west relies on, and has packaged and sold as "terrorism" in the past few decades.

The modern Zionistic body of Israel has been a terroristic, murderous entity since its inception less than 100 years ago.

Do not let yourself be swayed into believing that murder, if done slowly enough, is not murder.

#anon #cw rape #long post

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lucidfairies · 6 months

Text

pretty girl [a.a]

pairing: experienced!Abby x inexperienced!reader // Owens sister!reader x bbf!Abby

synopsis: Abby was irritatingly beautiful, nobody could deny that. But one night, everything changed between the two of you.

warnings: mdni 18+, religion mentioned, dom!abby, sub!reader, poc friendly, oral sex [r], fingerfucking [r], praise, slight size kink, corruption if you squint

word count: 2.1k

a/n: this is short and really not good but that's okay cuz I have more coming out soon! also no more virgin reader because it kinda made me wanna shoot myself

Out of all of the friends your brother, Owen, had over the years, Abby Anderson was definitely your favorite. Aside from the fact that she was built like and had the face of an actual god on earth, she was so sweet to you all the time. Always acting like, well, a sister. The feeling had never been mutual, though. You didn’t want her to see you as her best friend’s cute younger sister, you wanted her to see you as her best friend’s undeniably sexy younger sister.

You never really knew when this crush became, but Abby had been in your life for so long that it didn’t matter. All you knew was that every time you looked at her, your stomach flipped and warmth spread between your legs. Because, god, those eyes. Always looked like they were picking you apart, one inch at a time.

She’s the exact reason you were tossing and turning in your bed, trying to get her out of your head. Your body reacted differently to her lately, every accidental touch was like a punch to the gut, and at night, every time she crossed your mind, your clit throbbed, a feeling you weren’t used to.

It’s not like you never found people attractive, it’s just… she was different. You needed her in a different way, in a very unholy way. One your brother would absolutely not be okay with. You tried to tell yourself that that’s why you wanted her - just to get to Owen. But that didn’t work.

You sat up in your bed, wiping the sleep out of your eyes and forcing your legs together to end the throbbing. You were so fucking wet. Looking in the mirror at the end of your bed, you huffed and got up, brushing your hair out and changing into a smaller, hotter pajama set. Before you could register any consequences to what you were about to do, you grabbed your keys and left the house.

You knew where Abby’s house was. You’d been there a handful of times over the course of the years, normally to pick up Owen when he was high. Suddenly, you were pulling up and parking at the curb and getting out of the car, slamming the door on the way out. Standing at the door, you banged harshly, hoping she miraculously wouldn’t be home.

“Okay, Jesus, give me a sec- y/n?” Your stomach dropped. The reality of what you were doing hit you like a truck, and you suddenly second guessed everything, ready to turn around and run away. “What’re you doing here this late, sweetheart?” You sighed, digging your palms into your eyes and rubbing them.

“I need your help, Abby.” You looked up at her, unwilling to elaborate until she let you in. And she did. She opened the door further, allowing you to step in, then shut it behind you. “There’s this… feeling in my stomach that won’t go away. It’s like heat. I don’t even know what I’m doing.”

Abby wanted to pretend like she didn’t know what you were talking about. Wanted to pretend that she was thinking about the fact that you were literally horny and came to her for help, not to mention the little pajamas that you had on, that hugged you tight and hardly covered anything. She could tell you that Owen would hate her if she helped you the way you needed, and it was just unethical, but.

But.

That would be like telling you she hasn’t been in love with you for seven years, telling you that she didn’t want you, telling you that she hasn’t thought about this every night practically since she met you. And she surely didn’t want you thinking any of that.

Abby sighed. “Is that all it is? Heat?” She took a step closer to you, making you catch your breath.

“No,” you paused, taking a step forward as well, so that your chests were almost pressed against each other. “It’s this wet feeling. And this throbbing.” Abby could’ve come in her boxers, right then and there, if she wasn’t trying to focus on you.

“Where?” Your face was burning. She placed her large hand on your stomach, head dropping to the crook of your neck. “Here?” she ran her thumb over the skin. You shook your head, placing your hands on her shoulders. Her hand cupped your cunt, heel of her palm pressing up ever so slightly, just to press into your clit. You pushed up on your toes, trying to get away from the overwhelming sensation, but it was unrelenting. “Here, baby?” You nodded quickly. “Words.”

You moaned at her harsh change of tone. “Yes Abby,” she left an open mouthed kiss on your neck, pulling her hand away from your pussy. “I don’t know what to do about it.” The way you looked at her made her want to kiss you until you couldn’t breathe. Big doe eyes, unknowing but curious. You were so innocent, and it turned Abby on more than it should’ve. All she could think about was your pretty, big lips wrapped around her strap, taking it deep in your throat.

“Oh honey,” Abby sighed again. She didn’t want it to seem like she didn’t want this, want you, but she didn’t know how to go about it. “Have you never touched yourself?” Your brows scrunched.

“No. But that’s not what- oh!” Abby couldn’t take it, she picked you up and threw you over her shoulder, walking down the hallway and going into her bedroom. She shut the door and sat you down on her bed. “Abs.. I’ve wanted this for a while.”

“Wanted what, baby? I thought you didn’t know what you were doing.” She was on her knees in front of you, hands on your waist as she looked up at you.

“I..” you groaned, running your hands over your face in embarrassment. “I want to have sex with you. That’s why I came here, I couldn’t stop thinking about you.” Abby knew that. But she didn’t stop you from telling her. It sounded so nice coming out of your lips. “Owen can’t know, if we do.”

“I never said we were doing anything, darlin.” Remaining on her knees, she pressed against you and caught your lips in a kiss. Her hands were on your thighs, wrapping them around her waist, while she kissed you so hard you lost your breath. It was all tongue and teeth, nothing sweet about it. “What do you think about when you think about me, baby?”

Your brain was in a haze as you tried to formulate words. “You-your arms. And h-how your voice sounds, and how you look at me w-whenever we make eye contact.” She hooked her fingers under your shorts and pulled them down, then tossed them and shifted the two of you so that you were laying against her pillows and she was overtop of you.

When Abby caught a glimpse of the gold cross around your neck, she almost stopped. But the thought of corrupting you, turning you against the things you believe in just for her... extremely attractive.

"The heat between your legs is because you're horny, baby. Don't they teach you that at your pretty prep school?" You shook your head quickly, mind fuzzy as she kneaded your tits overtop your pajama shirt. She grabbed your hardened nipple and ran her thumb over it, making you shiver.

"Too much, Abby. Too much." You whined, pushing away from her hand.

"Is it really too much, sweet girl?" She twisted your nipple and pulled it, making you whimper and arch slightly off the bed. You couldn't tell whether you liked it or disliked it, but the way she was doing it felt extremely different from the way you briefly experimented with yourself here and there.

She knew what she was doing, and it made you want to moan and ride her fingers like you'd heard Owen talking about with her. You had listened to the vulgar stories she would tell your brother of her hookups, talking about what she did and how she did it.

You pushed up, sitting against the headboard as you pulled your pajama shirt up and over your head. Abby couldn't tear her eyes away from your tits. In seconds, her lips were latching onto your nipple and biting lightly, her hand flicking the other. Your back was arching into her mouth, moaning quietly.

"You're so pretty, my love." She mumbled into the skin of your sternum as she made a path of open-mouthed kisses towards your pajama shorts. Your skin was burning, and you were tingling at the thought of her teaching you what to do and how to do it.

She slipped your shorts off your legs and tossed them somewhere, gently running her thumb down your center. You shivered and whined, lacing one of your hands in her hair. "Abby," your head lolled back when she finally pulled your underwear down, kissing your clit gently. "Abs be gentle."

"Don't worry pretty girl, I'll go easy on you this time." Your stomach flipped at 'this time'. Would there be more times?

She licked a fat strip up your cunt and your hips bucked into her face, encouraging her. The sensation was brand new, and so much different than anything you'd ever done or felt. So much better.

Her tongue circled your clit, tracing shapes and letters, spelling her name against you. "Oh God, Abby," you moaned, the feeling of her hot breath and wet tongue creating the best mixture on your clit. The harsh middle ground where hot and cold met, where her thumb ran down your folds, was the greatest. You decided it was a good thing you waited, but you could definitely get used to this.

Moments later, Abby's middle finger was slowly pushing into your entrance, and she was groaning into your clit. She pulled away from your clit, watching her finger sink into you as she pressed kisses into your stomach and thighs. "So fucking tight, baby," her other hand rubbed your thigh, "need you to relax, angel."

A whine was ripped from your throat at the unfamiliar pressure. Your hips moved, trying to find some way to make it more comfortable. Abby was praising you, leaving quiet chants against your skin reminding you to breathe. You took a deep breath and released it, allowing your lower half to become less tense.

She began to thrust her finger slowly, curling it towards the sensitive bundle of nerves within you and grunting at the way you squirmed and cried out her name, begging her to do it again.

When you were ready, she added another finger, letting you adjust to both of her digits before reattaching her lips to your clit. Her right hand had found its way back to your tits, pulling at your nipple.

Your stomach became wound up, almost like a cramp in need of release. You knew it meant you were going to cum, but you never had before. "Abby- m'gonna, oh, Abby," a gush of warmth flooded between your legs, stronger and much better feeling than when you got wet.

Your legs were shaking and your hips were twitching, head thrown back and she worked you through it. Abby on the other hand, was wide-eyed and blushing as she watched you come around her fingers. She hooked up with girls regularly before now, but she had never been with someone like you.

She retracted her fingers and licked them clean. You were panting, forearm thrown over your eyes so that you wouldn't have to meet hers. "You did so well, my love." She had her hands pressed into your hips as she kissed your neck, waiting for you to come out and talk to her.

She was painting your skin in soft kisses when you finally brought your arm away from your face, cupping her face with both of your hands. "That was nice," you both grinned, which turned into laughter. It felt so good to laugh with her without worrying about Owen.

"I didn't hurt you, did I?" She asked once the laughter had subsided, turning things to a slightly more serious note. "I wanted you to be comfortable."

"You didn't hurt me, Abby. I'm glad I waited for you." She was kissing you then, smiling into your mouth as your teeth clashed and nicked at each other's lips. "Can I stay here tonight?" Abby rolled over next to you and took your hand as hers before looking towards you.

"You can stay here forever." She whispered quietly, kissing the back of your hand.

#abby smut #tlou #tlou2 #abby anderson #abby anderson smut #inexperienced!reader #experience #abby anderson x reader #maya writes

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rafeandonlyrafe · 9 days

Text

the same tv

words: 1.8k

warnings: 18+ only, smut, unprotected sex, p in v sex, parent death, funerals, robbery, redemption/forgiveness, addiction, drinking (wine, not like hard drinking), tickling, cockwarming, they call themselves kids at one point but at no point are reader or rafe under 18, like itll make sense once you read it in context

the first thing you do when you enter your house is kick off your shoes. the next is to stop holding back your tears as they stream down your face. you can't even sob anymore, just silent, steady tears.

you sigh as you look around the entryway. there's been some changes since you moved away, despite only being out of your parents house for a little over a year. they replaced the grand portrait that was of your mom's parents with one of you, now taking the place of honor.

you look away before you get to the rest of the family photos. you've seen enough at the funeral. you walk further in to the house, bare feet against the shiny wood floor.

you pause when you hear something further in. you haven't forgotten how the old house seemed to speak, groaning and settling during strong winds or when too many people were crammed between it's walls.

this sound seems different, but you're also occasionally sniffling, your ears are shot from blasting music in an attempt to distract yourself, so you shrug it off and walk further into the living room.

the sound suddenly makes sense as you see someone stood in your living room, arms holding up your parents flat screen television, awkwardly trying to carry it.

you aren't even mad. you honestly don't care about the tv. or the fact that someone is trying to rob you.

you let out a bitter laugh before you sink to the floor. “of fucking course this happens.” you are glad you still have your purse slung from your shoulder as you pull your wallet out, quite aggressively throwing it at the robber who has now frozen.

“what?” he questions, lowering the tv to the ground and pushing his hood of his head, a dumb move for someone currently committing a crime.

“this has been the worst week of my life and now you're robbing me. just my fucking luck…” you let out a broken sob. “just take whatever you want and leave.”

the only things that matter to you still in the house aren't actually worth anything anyways. the photos of your parents, your dad's cologne that's half empty, the oak tree that your childhood dog is buried next to.

“i thought the people who lived here died.”

you pick your head up, a look of fury overtaking your face.

“they did. they're my fucking parents! and now they're gone and you're fucking robbing me! get the fuck out!” you stand up, pushing at the robbers chest.

he looks familiar, like you should know who he is but can't place him.

“im-shit. im sorry.” he says, allowing you to shove him away and out the door.

“im really fucking sorry!” he yells again before you slam the door shut.

-- years later --

you park your car in the driveway instead of pulling it all the way into the garage like you know you should, but you need to know if you're correct about the man sitting on your front step.

“you're the kid that tried to rob me.” you say as you walk the sidewalk to the porch.

“yes.” he says, looking ashamed and a whole lot more grown up. “i was an addict and i owed a debt. my dad had just kicked me out of the house and i was on my own for the first time. it was stupid of me, but when i heard the people living here died, i thought it'd be a victimless crime.”

he sighs deeply, like even just thinking back to that time physically hurts. “i didn't even think that someone could have inherited the house. im so, so sorry.”

he swallows thickly. “my mom died when i was young. my dad- my dad just died recently. he faked his death and i got him back, but he's actually gone this time. you know what you said about the worst week in your life?”

you think back those years. it's mostly a blur, especially the days surrounding your parents car crash and funeral, but you do remember breaking down in front of the robber. you nod gently, waiting to hear the end of his speal.

“i know what you mean now. and im sorry i hurt you. im sorry about your parents dying.” he pulls something out of his pocket, extending his hand.

you look into his open palm, realizing it's a ornate gold necklace.

“no.” you shake your head. “you keep it. you don't need to bribe me to forgive you.”

“i want you to have it.” he says. “it's… it's not a lot, but it's something. something to help make up for what ive done.”

you reach forward, carefully taking the necklace out of his outstretched hand, carefully not to accidentally bump his skin.

“thank you.” you say, admiring the way the sun gleams off the metal.

“im rafe, by the way. rafe cameron.”

“y/n.” you respond, undoing the clasp of the necklace.

“here, let me.” he takes it out of your hands, moving quicker than you can think as he steps around you. your hair is already up in a bun, so rafe is able to reach around and easily place the chain around your neck.

“thank you.” the weight of the necklace feels comfortable against your skin, like it's the last finishing touch you need. you are wearing your mother's earrings, your father's bracelet, and now you have the other piece of what made that time in your life so miserable, your robbers necklace.

“i… i guess ill be going now.” rafe says.

you turn and watch him walk away. you recognize so much of your former self in him, the clear grieving he's going through.

“are you sober now?” you call out before he reaches the end of your driveway.

“sober enough.” he shouts back. rafe doubts he'll ever truly be clean, but he can at least manage now, doesn't need the drugs like he used to.

“then come back for dinner tomorrow. we can talk.”

you can see the smile stretch over his features. “ill be there.”

-- three months later --

“shit.” rafe says, head snapping over to you. “this is the same tv.”

you giggle and nod, surprised it took him so long to realize. “i never really watch tv on the actual tv, so no need to replace it.” you shrug, the gold necklace still draped over your neck. you haven't taken it off except to shower and sleep.

“god, thats crazy.” rafe looks over to you. “imagine if we just talked back then.”

you shake your head. “you just think you want that because we get along now. we were both in bad places.”

“you don't think we would have been hooking up back then?” rafe asks, raising an eyebrow at you, watching the way your thighs press together at the mere mention of hooking up, already feeling the urge to sleep with rafe even after having sex only a couple of hours ago.

“we were two scared kids. if we were hooking up we definitely shouldn't have been.” you giggle, reaching your wine glass out for rafe to refill, which he is glad to pour a more than healthy amount in.

“and now?” rafe looks down at his lap.

“and now we are two slighty less scared slightly older kids.” you giggle again, taking a deep sip before leaning across the couch cushion to press a kiss to rafes cheek, the movie you had put on long forgotten.

“rafe.” you wait until he looks you in the eye. “im here for you.”

“god, what have i done to deserve you?” rafe wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you on top of him as he flops back onto the couch.

you let out a laugh before it's cut off with his lips. he kisses you heavily, hand against the back of your head, not allowing you to pull away, not that you want to.

you let himself get lost in your kiss. you wish you had someone to support you in the time you needed most, and you're determined to be that person for rafe now.

rafe easily dominates your mouth even though he's underneath you as you quickly work your shorts off, wiggling against him until your bottom half is nude.

you press against rafes crotch, still covered by his sweatpants. you feel his cock straining against the fabric as you rub your pussy against it, wetting the gray material.

“baby, please.” rafe groans. he would pull his cock out himself, but his hands are preoccupied holding you close to him as if his life depends on it.

“oh, now you don't like teasing?” you smile.

“alright, i deserve this.” rafe also manages a chuckle despite his straining erection. “but please. need to feel your pussy ‘round me.”

“alright.” you roll your eyes dramatically. you'll have to get revenge on rafe at a different time for edging you the other night.

you push his pants down his thighs until you're able to reach into his underwear and pull out his cock. you give him a few quick strokes before lining up your entrance and sinking down.

rafe let's out a moan, barely pulling his face away from yours. “you're so wet.”

“it's almost like i like you or something.” you roll your eyes.

rafe laughs before kissing you again, hand moving up to your hair, tangling his fingers between the strands.

you sit on his cock for a moment, adjusting, before beginning to move, up then down, up then down, subtle movements of your hips, not needing anything fast, wanting drawn out, wanting it to last.

the movie is long over by the time rafe finally cums, a hand finally moving down to rub your clit to make sure you get off at the same time as his.

by the time you're both satisfied, you're sweaty and exhausted. you don't even bother to pull off his cock as you rest your head against his chest.

“thank you.” rafe says softly, rubbing his hand over your back. you don't need to ask what for. you know. for being there. you'll always be there.

you look up at him, a small smile on your face. “how are we gonna tell people we met?”

things are quickly getting serious, and while he hasn't breached the subject with you yet, neither of you have been hiding how quickly you're falling.

“what, you think it's a problem that we met when i was robbing you?” rafe says, making you giggle, only intensified by his hand pressing into your side, fingers tickling you as you howl with laughter.

rafe flips you over onto your back so you're underneath him, keeping his cock pushed inside of you.

“maybe we should just tell people we met on tinder.” rafe shrugs.

you roll your eyes. “somehow that's more embarrassing.”

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corollaservant · 27 days

Text

Hate Me (18+, jealous/paranoid f!reader, multi, smut in a tub, nip piercings, song inspo, image creds)

it was awkward to fight with him on vacation. it meant you had to be silently staring at each other across the spa’s private bathtub he had booked. he was on the other end of the tub and huffed in annoyance, his hands wet, the towel and phone away from his reach as you were coldly staring at him for the past 20 minutes. the fight occurred because the waitress had flirted with him while you took your breakfast this morning and he had obviously flirted back. Ok maybe he hadn’t, you certainly thought he did though. He always had that pretty smile on his face, always appreciating the hotel and tourist service people and well..he seemed very popular among the staff.

‘’i literally told her thank you, babe’’ he exhales as he rolls his eyes. you’ve been having this debate for some time now and while he wants to explain further, he fears there is nothing more to elaborate on.

‘’there was no reason to smile like that?’’

‘’like what?’’ he raises his voice, it’s absurd he thinks.

‘’you know exactly what I mean. i know damn well you didn’t give the same smile to that lobby boy yesterday’’ you slightly realize the argument is dumb, childish really, its point barely holding up against him. he is used to this and doesn’t mind, in fact most times he thinks it’s cute in a twisted way, your emotions show too easily. the problem is this time he senses you’re more serious about it and wants to end this quickly.

‘’baby’’ he sighs. ‘’i promise, there was no thought behind it, okay?’’ he smiles as he opens his arms signaling for you to come close.

‘’it’s always the same excuse with you. last time, you didn’t remember whose likes you were in, then it was the lady giving you free chocolates and adding a heart to your coffee cup-’’ you continue. ‘’we both got coffees that day!’’

‘’this is getting out of hand.’’ he replies, his voice is composed, like usual but the tone is firm. ‘’i can’t keep arguing like this, you keep testing me, measuring my love when you know that I love you. i show it every fucking day so what's the fucking deal?’’ he is annoyed and angered, you can tell by the way his eyes flicker, if they were laser tags and you his target, they'd burn through your frontal lobe.

he was always the 'de-escalator' in such situations, you’d spout some unserious accusation, he’d provide logical feedback and you’d end up either mute, huffing in annoyance or fucked dumb. in this instance he chose to splash water in your direction, playfully but not too much. the action obviously annoyed you and in an attempt to defend yourself you splashed him back vigorously but he ducked his head underwater as you felt his arms grab your waist. he reemerged and brought your body close to his, quick reflexes leaving no room for resistance- he always managed to have you on his territory, never the other way around. his toned back was pressed against the cold tiles as your bodies were hardly separated, the only thing between you both water and bubbles from the somehow turned on jacuzzi button.

‘’i really fucking hate you’’ you whisper against his face, his hands sealed around your waist as you float underwater, pushed back and forth on his torso, your tiny bikini top touching his chest ever so slightly.

‘’you don’t mean that and you know it’’ he coos, bringing you closer, so close that you have to wrap your legs around him (or at least open them up to fit, you justify) so that you’re resting atop him, a poke teasing under your bikini.

‘i do’’ you state but his fingers have already started trailing your back, which makes you unwillingly shiver as he moves them towards your hips, placing both palms on your ass and squeezing hard.

‘’then why don’t you show me how much, huh?’’ he breathes on your neck, rubbing himself against your entrance. since you’re in water, you sense the direct contact, your soaked bikini feels bare against his strained trunks and you softly moan.

‘’I- will not–be having–’ you are being cut off by his lips on you as he pushes you further down on him, chest on his naked torso and he grins.

‘’not what? sex with me?’’ he smirks. he wants to taste your delicate skin, he can’t stop thinking of your tits in that tiny bikini top, spilling and revealing your nipple piercings by default. ever since you got them pierced he could see them hard almost 24/7. he slides the top to your sides and grabs a handful while his other hand guides your lower back to grind against his erection, the feeling’s overbearing and you moan, needy for more but still pissed off he slowly wins you over.

‘’doesn’t look like it’’ he continues, as he puts the softness of your fat in his mouth, his tongue swirls around the nipple piercing and he swallows; metallic and sweet, just how he likes it.

‘’baby..ah p–please..’’ you mewl, his tongue feels too good but you’re always so impatient, always wanting to get fucked before he can tease and since you started this petty fight, he thinks he might as well enjoy it a bit longer.

‘’what is it sweetheart?’’ he inquires, diverting his attention to your pouting face. he has perfected his oblivious stare and concealed it so well, he knows exactly what's up but wants to get it out of you.

‘’please..continue’’ you give in, a consistent ache pools below you and he wants to smirk but doesn’t allow himself.

‘’oh?’’ ‘’but i thought you hated me?’’ the words linger.

‘’I do’’ you sigh and now he smirks. ‘’ but I- i ..that doesn’t mean i don’t want you to continue’’ you shamelessly admit.

‘’is that so?’’ he already knew how this would end up.

he moves his hands towards your core, it doesn’t take long for him to sense how wet you are despite the surroundings as he trails his fingers up and down your cunt. he slides your tiny bikini to the side, you look cute he thinks, tits flush with the top shoved out the way and wide eyes looking at him- anticipating.

‘’i see you’re being very obedient now, how so?’’ he teases as he pushes two thick fingers in your core, they must fill you up well because he notices the way your mouth parts and your grip tightens on the back of his head.

‘’i.. don’t..know’’ you respond weakly, as he continues his rhythm, kissing your mouth, fingers building up your orgasm. he knows you too well by now, he knows exactly how to work his way into your cunt.

he has patience; has always been a patient man but that patience can be worn thin and he doesn’t want to waste time. he figures overstimulating you back at the hotel room sounds more practical, he has more space and toys to use on you. plus he is slightly annoyed by the hotel spa room, not only for sanitary reasons but because he can’t feel you to the fullest.

he exits his fingers moments after he picked up the pace and your moans became more frequent; one hand on your waist still in his embrace as he lets his cock spring free underwater. with zero delay he pushes your hips down on him, having run the tip across your clit, earning him a moan that made his cock jump. he doesn’t break eye contact so with that in mind he admires his dexterity for a second.

you gasp loudly as you feel him entering you and he hushes you.

‘’be a good girl and be silent for me, please’’ he whispers but not as composed as he'd wish for as your walls have him trapped inside you, the pleasurable sensation highlighted by your hands gripping with small force the roots of his hair. it’s not strong, he smiles– but he appreciates the effort and it makes his cock twitch so he’ll take it.

he thrusts upwards and notices the way your mouth parts and legs tremble shortly after so he guesses he hit your g-spot. he’s filling you up well, the way his palms move your hips up and down, the water pressure and his gaze solely on your face make you grasp around him tightly, he intoxicates you and he unfortunately knows it.

‘’..i ..agh– hate ..you..’’ you murmur against his mouth, eyeing him up as you fall to pieces with each tantalizing thrust, you know you’re gonna come soon, he has you angled is such way that besides his cock pushing deeper and deeper, he brings your body so close that your clit touches his skin, applying extra pressure on your poor entrance. He can feel you on him, it drives him wild.

‘’i didn’t catch that’’ he says, ‘’would–you–repeat?’’ cock thrusting without relent to the tempo of each word as you bounce on his face and arch your head back.

‘’i.. said.. oh fuck. baby- i said i ..hate–’’ you cut yourself off when you feel your orgasm take over, it starts from your hole (or maybe your clit, you can't bother to care) and spreads throughout your whole body as you tremble and tighten around him, his pace never faltering.

You look so pretty when you come undone, he thinks

‘’ agh shit I hate you too baby.’’ he hisses and cums with a loud groan inside you, load shooting deep in your core as he moves to his own rhythm, digging his fingers in your hips and panting against your neck.

‘’so fucking much.’’

Geto, Gojo, Nanami, Toji (give him some credit), Dazai, Fyodor, Tecchou, Aizawa, Hawks, Chrollo, Levi + ur personal favs!

#jujutsu kaisen #geto x reader #gojo x reader #nanami x reader #toji x reader #dazai x reader #fyodor x reader #tecchou x reader #aizawa x reader #hawks x reader #levi x reader #corollaservant

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deakyjoe · 1 month

Text

I Got Chills, They’re Multiplying

Pairing: Robert “Bob” Floyd x Reader (fem, she/her)

Category: sick fic, fluff

Summary: Despite being stubbornly independent, Bob won’t let you push him away in your time of need.

Warnings: sickness, sexual references and innuendos, implication of Bob having a “lieutenant” kink, just fluff mostly, reader is used to pushing people away, they’re like hella in love but won’t say it

Word count: 2.4k

A/N: Wrote this exhausted because I haven’t been able to sleep these past few days due to being sick. Enjoy!

Consider buying me a coffee :)

You stared at the last text message Bob had sent you.

Okay, get well soon!

It was unclear whether the constant pounding in your head was what was making you feel sick or if it was how quickly the text conversation had ended with your boyfriend. Well, kind-of boyfriend. You'd been on a lot of dates over the last few months but hadn't actually made it official yet.

It's not like you expected anything from him, you were used to men being pretty dismissive, and his message was actually very friendly, especially with the exclamation point at the end, but you couldn't help but feel a pang of something at him just ending the conversation like that.

To be fair to him, you had told him that you were fine, just had a cold or a minor case of the flu. It was a little worse than that but you weren't used to telling people your problems, used to keeping them bottled up inside. So you guess you couldn't really blame him for taking your word for granted and assuming that, as you'd said, you were fine. And maybe he was busy.

You sighed and tossed your phone aside, burying your face in one of the many blankets you'd dragged to your couch in an attempt to feel slightly warmer. You were being ridiculous, this is exactly what you wanted. And what you expected. At least you had peace and quiet for the day whilst you recovered.

Drifting off into a dreamless sleep came naturally with the state your body was in and you were thankful for it, hoping that the headache that had been plaguing you since you first woke up that morning would be gone by the time you woke up again.

It wasn't.

In fact, it only got worse when the rhythmic throbbing in your skull matched the timing of the person knocking on your front door. You groaned quietly to yourself and dragged yourself up off the couch, wrapping a blanket tight around your shoulders and padding to the door with only one sock on. You figured the other one must have fallen off during your nap.

You didn't even bother looking through the peephole to see who was bothering you, hoping to just snap at them to go away once you'd managed to unlock the door.

That plan was foiled when you were greeted by your favourite pair of baby blue eyes behind wire framed glasses. You immediately softened at the sight of your kind-of boyfriend.

"Oh, hi." You croaked, immediately feeling sheepish that you were about to shout at him without even thinking about the consequences.

Bob frowned at you, giving you a quick once over. "You're sick."

"Yes, I told you that." You chuckled, coughing into your elbow as soon as the words had left your mouth.

"Sicker than you let on." He clarified.

You shrugged, not knowing what to say. He was right. But that's just who you were. Keep everything to yourself, was your motto.

So you just asked him a question instead. "Why are you here? I said I was fine."

Bob smiled at that. "I think your exact words were 'yeah, I'm good' which I knew was a lie."

"Oh." That surprised you.

He went further. "You only say you're good when something's wrong."

God, were you that easy to read?

"So, I thought I'd come check on you." He stiffened suddenly. "I hope that's okay."

You didn't think it possible but somehow you softened more under his worried gaze. "Yes, that's very okay. Do you want to come in?"

You opened the door wider for him, stepping aside and grinning when he hurried in and kicked off his shoes. It was then that you noticed what he was wearing. Blue jeans and a plain white t-shirt. He looked good. Very good. If you didn't feel like you were dying then you'd definitely be jumping his bones right about now. You still kind of wanted to. You pushed the thought aside.

"Didn't realise how hot it is outside. I'm freezing." You mumbled, shuffling back towards your couch. "Do you want a drink?"

"No, thanks. But if I did then I'd make it myself. I'm here to look after you." He placed a hand on the small of your back to guide you in the direction of the blanket pile you'd previously made, smirking at the sight of it.

You shifted away from him. "You don't have to touch me. I'm sick and disgusting right now."

He huffed. "You're beautiful and lovely like always."

"Liar." You grumbled, pushing back into his hand nevertheless.

"No, just smitten and honest." He confessed, sitting you down on the couch and wrapping you in the millions of blankets. "Have you eaten today?"

You shook your head no. You didn't feel up to cooking.

"Want me to make you something?" He stood in front of you with his hands on his hips.

"No." You sighed. "It's okay."

"Yeah, I'm making you something."

You huffed. "You really don't have to-"

"I want to." He cut you off. “I don’t want you to think you can’t ask me for things. You know I care about you, right?”

You nodded slowly. “I know, I’m just used to doing stuff for myself.”

Bob smiled gently. “I know that. But now you don’t have to. I’m here for you. To help. Or whatever you need.”

You were about to respond with a fond thank you when you were interrupted by his cellphone chiming in his pocket.

“Sorry.” He grunted, pulling the device from the front of his jeans.

“It’s okay.” You coughed, curious as to why he was suddenly frowning. “Who is it?”

"Had plans with the team tonight. Was supposed to meet them for drinks." He mumbled, typing away on his phone.

"Oh, god." You rubbed your hand across your face. "Please go. You don't have to stay here. Don't let them down."

Bob suddenly looked up from his screen and gave you an amused smile. "I'm sure they'll understand that I'm looking after my sick girlfriend."

He said it so casually, as if he’d been doing it regularly. Your heart rate picked up at that. Girlfriend. His girlfriend. Bob Floyd's girlfriend. You could've squealed with glee. You stayed silent and settled for a pleased grin.

He sighed to himself once he’d replied to his team and placed his cell down on your coffee table. “Where were we? Oh! Right. Me cooking for you.”

“Like I said, you don’t need to do that.” You pulled your feet up onto the couch after a particularly violent shiver ran through you. “I’m perfectly fine.”

Bob reached out and pressed the back of his hand onto your forehead. “You have a fever. And you’re still shaking like we’re in Antarctica.”

“It’s just my immune system fighting back.” You hummed, leaning into his touch as he moved his hand down to cup your cheek.

“Exactly. And I’m sure some warm soup will just help your immune system out.” He crouched down in front of you, taking the other side of your face in his other hand. “Please let me take care of you.”

The words were so softly spoken, so tender, that you almost started crying. No one had ever sounded so sincere before, especially when it came to your well-being. If you weren’t so scared of infecting him, you would’ve leaned forward to kiss him.

So you could only reply quietly, with the smallest of nods. “Okay.”

His face burst into a dazzling smile, the kind that made you never want to stop looking at him. “Okay. You rest some more and I’ll go make that for you.”

You smiled weakly back at him, suddenly remembering something. “I don’t think I have any soup.”

Bob didn’t falter. “That’s alright. I’ll figure something out.”

You thought that maybe you were a little bit in love with him.

“Help yourself to anything.” It didn’t need to be said, he knew your kitchen pretty well at this point and you always made it clear that he was free to eat or use anything in it when he was over at your place.

He nodded, pressed a kiss to your forehead and stood up. “Try to sleep a little. This might take a while.”

You snorted, regretting it immediately as it made your throat feel all scratchy. “Yes, Lieutenant.”

Bob paused for a second, halfway to taking a step towards the kitchen, and looked back at you. “Lieutenant?”

You nodded, mouth twitching at the corners.

He seemed to think on it for a second. “Hm, we’ll come back to that.”

You giggled quietly into your blanket and settled back onto the couch, closing your eyes and thinking of Bob Floyd. Your boyfriend. Your extremely caring boyfriend. Who was in your kitchen making you soup! When did you suddenly get so lucky? The musings drifted away with you as you slipped into unconsciousness.

Some time passed before you were awoken again by Bob stroking the side of your face and softly uttering your name.

You rubbed your eyes as you sat up, slightly confused as your head cleared. “What’s going on?”

“Soup.” He replied simply, picking up your legs and sitting down before placing them across his lap. He leaned forward to grab the bowl and spoon on your coffee table and then turned to face you.

“You gonna feed me?” You teased.

Bob smiled. “I would if you wanted me to but I’m sure you’d rather I throw this soup in your face than do that.”

He was right.

“Hm, when did you get to know me so well?” You asked, half joking as you took the bowl and spoon from him. The soup was a rich green colour. What he’d found to put in it, you had no idea. “Always thought I was closed off.”

“You are.” He shrugged. “But I pay attention.”

Your eyes shot up to meet his again. He was just looking at you with a slight smile, hands smoothing up and down the lengths of your clothed legs.

You were definitely a little bit in love with him.

You defaulted to a joke. "Remind me when I'm feeling better that you're gonna get it sooo good."

Bob snorted. "I think the fever is making you delirious."

"I'm just frustrated because you, somehow, look hotter than usual and I'm too sick to do anything about it." You gestured vaguely to his outfit, using the spoon to point.

“I’m wearing jeans and a t-shirt.”

“Hot.” You insisted.

"Okay, I'll remind you." He rolled his eyes. “Now eat your soup.”

“Yes, Lieutenant.” You mumbled, dipping the spoon into the thick liquid.

He huffed out a laugh.

You weren’t surprised in the least that the soup was delicious. You were starting to believe that Bob might actually be the perfect man, some sort of miracle sent to Earth to apologise for all the wrongdoing in the world. How he’d managed to concoct a good soup out of the limited ingredients in your kitchen was beyond you. And yet, he’d done it.

“What the hell did you put in this?” You asked, frowning at him mock suspiciously. If you didn’t know him better you’d think he’d ordered it to your place while you were asleep. But Bob Floyd wasn’t that kind of guy.

“Some stuff I found laying around.” He shrugged modestly. “Didn’t follow a recipe or anything.”

You scoffed. “You’re something else.”

He just shrugged again, a pleased smile playing on the corners of his lips, and watched you practically inhale the rest of the dish. He was very glad you’d eaten it.

“How you feeling now?”

“Better.” You admitted. “But I don’t know if it’s because of the soup or because you’re here.”

Bob’s heart thudded against his rib cage at that confession. “Just happy to help.”

You hummed and stared at him fondly.

He had trouble getting his next question out, distracted by the way you were looking at him. “Do- do you- do you want to go back to sleep?”

You hesitated before answering him, mulling an idea over in your mind. “There is something I want.”

“Oh, yeah? What is it?” He was willing to do anything for you.

“Don’t want you to get sick.” You sighed.

He smiled. “I think we left that concern behind when I first got here.”

Your eyes widened. “No! Don’t make me feel guilty.”

“I’m not trying to.” Bob assured you. “But I doubt whatever you want is going to have a higher risk of getting me sick than me just sitting here next to you.”

You grumbled something underneath your breath to yourself.

“It’s okay. I don’t mind getting sick off of you.”

Maybe you were a lot in love with him.

So you let it burst out of you. “Wanna cuddle.”

Bob didn’t even respond to you, just scooped you up into his arms and maneuvered the two of you into the position he knew you liked - him on his back with you half on top of him and half next to him, one leg and one arm slung around him, your face buried his chest and head tucked under his chin, one of his hands moving to stroke up and down your arm, trace patterns across your back and comb through your hair.

He knew you so well.

You nuzzled your face against his t-shirt. “Thank you.”

He inhaled deeply. “You don’t need to thank me.”

“I want to. You didn’t have to do all of this.”

“Making you soup is nothing. It’s not like I’m giving you a kidney.” He paused. “Although I’d probably do that too.”

You chuckled against his chest. “What I mean is, most guys would’ve accepted my ‘I’m good’ text and carried on with their day. You didn’t.”

“Because I knew you were lying.” He reminded you.

“That’s my point. No one has ever known I was lying before.” You tilted your head up to look at him. “I’m glad you knew.”

“Me too.”

Bob wanted to kiss you but knew you’d kill him if he tried. So he settled for the smile he gave you that always made you look away nervously. Which you did, as predicted, and then swiftly fell asleep against him. He wondered how’d he’d gotten so lucky. Sure, he was caring for a sick person but it was the happiest he’d been in a long time. Which should sound ridiculous but to him it made more sense than anything.

He was knocked out of his thoughts when you whined lowly in your sleep and held onto him tighter. He smiled down at you and held you closer to his chest.

Bob knew then that he was a lot in love with you.

A/N: And we’re back!

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just-jordie-things · 10 months

Text

you know you got me in your pocket - okkotsu yuuta

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

[ you and me, always, forever ]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh!”

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

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

“This isn’t mine!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“O-oh”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I got lost”

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

Yuuta nods.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I guess”

He doesn’t know what else to say.

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

Yuuta nods, the movement awkward, and shaky.

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

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

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

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

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

[ say you’ll stay, never be severed ]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Want company?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Really?” He asks, and she nods.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s not” He says, fast.

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

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

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

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

Yuuta shakes his head.

“I don’t think so”

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

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

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

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

“That’s cool!”

(y/n’s) eyes blink wide in surprise.

“You can heal yourself?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Useful”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I think that we’re going to be-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He nods his head from side to side.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“(y/n’s)- uh- she’s-”

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

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

“Ikura” Toge mutters.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It was” She affirms.

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah,” He concurred.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I- I have to-”

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

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

“After lessons works” (y/n) agrees.

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

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

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

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

[ just come here and we can settle down ]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ditching lessons?”

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

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

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

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

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

“So he told you about Africa, huh?”

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

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

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

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

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

Her throat burns. Was that tears?

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

“I know”

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

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

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

“I don’t even know what to-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Positive” (y/n) replies.

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

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

Eventually, they have to talk about Africa.

It comes up the morning Yuuta leaves.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“The time difference is-”

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

He returns the affection.

“Okay” He murmurs.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[ you and me, always, forever ]

Yuuta had some mixed feelings about going to Africa.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[ you and me, always, forever ]

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

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

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

“Where’s (y/n)?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Bad different?”

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

She shakes her head at him in a small motion.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Me too” He manages to murmur back.

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

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

[ you and me, always, forever ]

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

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

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

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

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

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

Toge giggles into his collar.

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

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

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

“Salmon!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Salmon” Toge scoffs.

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

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

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

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

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

Maki glares at the both of them before snarling.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So it’s true!?” He asks excitedly.

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

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

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

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

“You love me too?” He whispers.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Uh, sorry” (y/n) said sheepishly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

xoxo ~ jordie

2K notes · View notes

thatfreshi · 8 months

Note

Can I request an Astarion x reader fic where the reader keeps getting hit on/cat called by random people, and she brushes it off at first but it slowly becomes evident that it really bothers her, and needs someone to intervene or comfort her?

TW - Sexual harassment, threat of kidnapping

Recommended Song: Used - SZA FT. Don Toliver

Ah taverns, such wondrous places of inebriation and sloppy people of all creeds. You and Astarion are party people, despite his introverted nature. It's more about being two people thriving in chaos, playing the other patrons like pawns to make the night exciting, flirting with a stranger to snatch their drink from the bar, and all of those morally grey things. Sure, maybe it's not ethical to steal, but it sure is fun.

It's not a secret that you are two of the most good-looking regulars, but it's also well-known that you're severely monogamous. In fact, it's gotten very close to voyeurism multiple times, which has gotten you kicked out of a couple places. You don't mind public displays of affection, even if they're a little far gone at times. All of that to say, it's hard not to notice when you arrive.

Ever since the death of Cazador, you've been living in luxury. Despite rejecting ascension, Astarion didn't mind getting his hands all over the stockpile of gold and jewels the Szarrs had at their estate. After all, you'd say he deserves it. It's almost like being nobility, adorned in gorgeous clothing amongst the common people, and yet you fit in quite well. This rich adornment came with tight-fitting gowns, gorgeous lace pieces, corsets of the highest quality. Those also didn't go unnoticed, but this night in particular some people crossed the line.

You and Astarion brought your own bottle of wine to start the evening, something to get you loose enough to put up with whatever was on tap. Occasionally you'd befriend some strangers, just for the evening. Astarion had a bad habit of making jokes about his vampirism, so you often avoided speaking to the same people again in case they'd look past his sarcasm.

This night in particular you'd come across quite the fun group, and you'd kindly shared some of your wine with them, which was a most rare occurrence. Soon enough you ran out, and Astarion offered to grab something else for the table.

"I'll be right back darling."

He has a habit of disappearing in most circles, but he's always nearby when it comes to you, especially in a place like this. Of course he's protective of you, all you truly have is each other. He'll walk to the bar and purchase a new bottle, keeping eyes, or at least ears on you the entire time he's away. Perks of loving an elf, as his heightened senses have come in handy multiple times.

"Well, that man of yours certainly is something."

A human man comments from across the table, taking a sip of your fancy wine.

"I know."

You smirk, taking a sip of your drink.

"I can't imagine he's all that in the bedroom though."

You almost spit out your wine, surprised by the audacity of this complete stranger.

"I'm sorry, but who are you?"

"Just someone who thinks you could do better."

"And what makes you say that?"

"Well, I could bed you for a change."

You almost want to throw up at how bold this man is being. Instead of dragging the conversation on any further, you grab your drink and go to stand up, trying to eye Astarion from across the room. The tavern was awfully busy, far more than usual. After realizing he was nowhere in sight, you move to make your way to the bar. Suddenly, there's a hand in your hair, yanking you back.

"Well that's no way to treat a nice young man, now is it?"

This human snarls in your ear. No one seems to notice the situation, as the crowd is bustling. It's not often you get scared of random tavern goers, but this man is far more handsy than others.

"Unhand me."

You go to grab for the knife hidden under the slit of your dress, realizing you forgot to grab it on the way out. Of course, tonight of all nights. Realizing you were trying to grab for a weapon, the human twists your wrist behind your back, making you yelp in pain.

Astarion had a hard time hearing that night because of all the overlapping conversation, but that sound was all he needed for his ears to perk up and for him to abandon his drink mission. He has a keen sense for knowing when you're in danger.

"Adorable, you think you're that strong huh?"

He goes to feel where you reached for your knife, lingering on your leg a little too long. Then, he freezes.

"Excuse me sir, could you show me where your pulse is in your neck? Make sure your blood's still pumping?"

Astarion has his dagger in hand behind your attacker. The human starts shaking, and slowly creeps his hand off of your leg and onto his neck.

"Very good. Now, if you'd like to keep that precious sustenance pumping through your veins and don't want me to pop your jaw out of it's socket, you'll unhand my wife."

He points the tip of his dagger right where the neck meets the jawline, almost drawing blood. Soon after the human unhands your hair, and scrambles away, not before Astarion leaves the tiniest knick in his neck: a reminder. You turn around and embrace the vampire, finally catching your breath. He lets you stay wrapped around his side as he guides you out of the tavern.

"Are you alright my love? Did he hurt you?"

"Just my scalp a little. I forgot my knife before we left, stupid mistake."

He lifts your chin up to make eye contact with him.

"You shouldn't have to be armed so some man won't harass you. Would I prefer you to have a weapon on you? Of course, but if you ever can't protect yourself, I will."

You start to tear up a little. It's been a while since you've been that scared, and no one seemed to notice. What would've happened if Astarion was too late?

"Look at me."

He wakes you from your thoughts.

"Let's go home. Perhaps this isn't the right place for us."

You wrap your arm around his, holding onto his sleeve. Darkvision is nice at times like this, since he can see much further than you. The walk home is quiet, and he doesn't mind. However, he is constantly eyeing nearby alleyways in case that man decides to get smart with him. When you get home you ball up on the sofa, and he makes sure the door is double-locked, something he doesn't often do considering he made the locks himself. He makes his way to the sofa, the plush velvet making a nice contrast to rickety wooden chairs of the tavern.

"Come here darling."

He pulls you back to lay on him, and he unclasps your necklace, placing it gently on the nearby table.

"Astarion?"

You look up at him.

"Yes my love?"

Tears prick at your eyes again. You have a hard time getting the words out, as if it's an embarrassing question.

"Will... will you always keep me safe?"

Your voice wavers. He starts massaging your shoulders.

"Of course my sweet Tav, I'll keep you safe as long as you live."

His voice lowered, a certain serious tone taking hold. Part of him felt guilty things even went as far as they did tonight, but he promised himself he'd never let it happen again.

"I love you."

He smiles. It's not often you just say 'I love you' to one another, it's usually said in many different ways, in actions, in pet names. You save it for serious moments, when it feels important to remind each other of your love, how it binds you.

"I love you too darling."

Nothing else is said. Soon enough you fall asleep as he rubs your back, peaceful and safe.

#astarion #astarion x reader #comfort #astarion x tav #baldurs gate astarion #baldur's gate 3 #angst

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house-of-angst · 2 months

Text

Y'all mind if I talk about Present Mic's quirk for a second? Great.

So, my partner and I have been having Erasermic brainrot lately, and while we were binging content with them, I became interested in Hizashi's voice quirk. I began searching stuff about how sound/volume works, and linking it to his canon stuff.

I'll just say, the info I found makes him a pretty scary guy. It's a shame he's so underused in both canon and fanon.

Frequency

First of all, I want to talk about something everyone knows about him: his quirk is potent enough to shatter glass. Now, when it comes to decibels, it's always important to consider the time and distance a certain note is held for, since these can impact the "hit" a certain sound wave can have when influenced by effects such as the air or vibrations.

(Please keep this in mind for the reminder of this post)

When it comes to glass, however, it breaks almost instantly under the pressure of his voice. Our most constant example of this is the man's poor lenses, but there is a scene I'd like to talk about the most, it being he one where he completely shatters Shigaraki's tank.

One might argue that the glass was already weakened from Mirko's kicks, but that's honestly part of something that makes this so impressive to me; Mirko's legs are strong enough to straight-up rip a high-end Nomu's head clean off, yet this tank was tough enough to withstand two attacks from her - including her ultimate move - before starting to leak; and the fact she was heavily injured doesn't fly here, as we very clearly could see she wasn't holding back one bit.

Now, let's get technical.

According to Google, a normal tone of voice would be around 50 decibels, while the required to shatter glass would be a minimum of 105. For comparison, that's roughly the same volume as a jackhammer. Now, you might be thinking, "Oh, that's not so bad! Some singers can do that!" and you'd be right, but there's also some other things to consider. Allow me to explain.

Some singers can reach a pitch that can make glass vibrate enough for it to break, but I've personally only heard of this happening if the person has their mouth close to a smaller, empty cup, and even then the volume would be distributed around. Hizashi, on the other hand, was standing several feet away from this reinforced tank and was able to shatter it immediately, using the directional speaker around his neck to aim the volume. This would naturally require for him to hit even higher decibels, specially when you take into consideration that one's frequency must match the glass' for it to vibrate, which drastically increases when it's dampened. (Read next topic for more info on this)

And then there's his glasses which, like I've stated before, are the most common thing he breaks with his voice. Obviously, this is not directed and it's not a total shatter, but there is something to be observed; say, did you know the necessary volume for lenses to crack, when not being directly aimed at, would be that of a nearby shot from a highcaliber gun? That's roughly 140-170 decibels.

Harm factor

Boy, oh boy! I'm betting most of you were looking for this part when you clicked the read more, right? Look no further, I've got you covered, you just better remember what I mentioned before about distance and duration.

Hizashi's parents were unfortunate enough to have a mutant child that was born with his quirk already active, and I'm willing to bet a newborn doesn't have the slightest bit of control over a power as destructive as a sonic-powered voice, which immediately resulted in everyone in the room bleeding from the ears.

Sound-related ear bleeding is most commonly associated with a ruptured eardrum, which can happen at around 150 decibels and is about the same as a jet engine taking off. While a baby most likely unleashed his maximum voice power on the first breath, I believe something like that would, thankfully, only develop fully after puberty, just like with non-powered people like us, since his quirk is a drastic intensification of a common function and not a new ability altogether.

With that being said... The Finals Exam.

In this, Hizashi was standing very far and, even with the directional speakers, there were many obstacles in the way that kept him from landing direct soundwaves on the students. Regardless, Jirou's ears bled in less than 30 minutes being exposed to this.

This could have happened due to the fact that she has a hearing quirk, which would make hers much more sensitive, but let's study this, shall we? We don't have the exacts of what happened there, but the students are visibly uncomfortable upon the first soundwave, which would suggest it was at about 120 decibels upon impact (with 85 already being enough to cause damage to your ears) and being emitted even higher by him, considering distance muffles volume. Still, I think all that would be nothing compared to the scream he let out after those bugs started crawling on him, with how unfiltered that was.

With Jirou, it comes to no surprise this volume at this distance and time almost rendered her deaf, and realistically would take several months of healing time. How much do you want to bet Hizashi got a solid scolding from Shouta? I mean, it was supposed to be a challenge, but homeboy came this close to breaking her quirk.

Another thing I want to point out is that his voice is powerful enough to actually fucking launch people, and this only happens due to an event called acoustic trauma, basically meaning Hizashi can surpass supersonic levels. Although, it's important to note that this effect is caused mostly due to pressure and not so much as sound, so while it's not freakishly loud (about the same as thunder), it can still cause hearing and psychological damage.

! WARNING !

The following part contains graphic mentions of injury, and death. Do not proceed if these are sensitive topics for you.

Now, we look at the disturbing side of Hizashi's quirk. Buckle in, because it's a wild ride.

Remember what I commented earlier, about him having to hit even higher frequencies to be able to shatter Shigaraki's tank? First of all, as the doctor was sent flying, this qualifies as supersonic, but that's not all. To shatter such a protected tank, with liquid inside increasing the density, he'd have to hit over 200 decibels; which is considered extremely dangerous and most definitely fatal, as the threshold of pain is of 115-140 - this can cause damage such as crushed ear bones, ruptured lungs, or embolism. For comparison, this would come close to standing right next to a Saturn V Moon Rocket during launch, and is no longer considered a "sound" due to the vacuum.

With that being said, the man came very close to dying by Hizashi's hands (voice?) twice. Not only was he so close during the lens incident, literally being inches away from his face and in risk of getting his eardrums ruptured already, but if Mic had decided to raise his voice even more during his rage, it'd be possible for the frequency to make the doctor's inner organs malfunction, or straight-up burst from the pressure.

But that's not the worst part.

After establishing that the lethal amount of over 200 decibels would be necessary to shatter the tank given the circumstances, if he exceeded 240 and the doctor happened to be in the way of this, it would be enough to cause his head to explode upon impact. That old man better be grateful that he was standing a feet few away, and that the supersonic blast blew him away a bit more, or it'd be an immediate game over.

With all this being said, how devastating would it be for this guy to scream his rage out?

(Please keep in mind that many of the extreme cases in this are actually impossible to happen in a real-life scenario and are purely speculation!)

#erasermic #(mentioned)#bnha #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #present mic #yamada hizashi #rambles

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astolfofo · 29 days

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…I had a thought about the halovians(specifically sunday) and want to know peoples opinions. do u think he has nesting instincts? :3 thank u for listening to my ted talk.

hi (i did say i was gonna answer this 2 weeks ago unfortunately I forgot i'm so sorry.) But anyways, thank you for your ask, and 100% he does.

tw: non-con, forced pregnancy, dark content. truly the unedited sleep deprived trying to write.

Okay i finished writing this i know you didn't ask for acutal writing but i went ahead and did it anyways because why not hope u don't mind

also excuse the fact that thus was posted at 4am and I was half falling asleep already while writing this.

There were three days in your life that you could have called the worst.

The first one was the day when Sunday took your life away from you, and claimed you to be his "wife". The second was when first time he chose to be intimate. The third was when you got pregnant as a result.

Nothing had ever stuck to you like the day after that. You felt like washing the sheets until your hands would bleed. You wanted to submerge yourself in bleach until every fiber of your body burned, shriveled up, and died.

You wanted to forget that it happened. That the events in the previous night ever happened at all.

But the soreness between your legs was a constant reminder. And even though the pain went away after a few days, it was replaced by something much worse. Something you feared.

You saw the signs from the second you got them. Your body felt heavy. You were constantly tired. You had lost interest in eating. It was obvious what was going on.

And for a few days, you tried to hide it. The longer Sunday didn't know, the better it was for you. That way, you could slowly while away your last few moments in peace before everything was taken from you in entirety.

After a few weeks, you couldn't hide it anymore. You remember staring at the double line on the pregnancy test.

You almost instantly broke down into tears. It wasn't anything that you hadn't already know n, but maybe part of you still just believed you were ill, that maybe there was another reason why you had missed your period that month. That the pain you kept experiencing was just from some kind of illness.

The last thing you could keep away from Sunday was taken away from you that day. The sense of freedom you could've had.

To Sunday, you suppose this was the final step he needed to take to bind you to him. Another way to control you. Another way to keep you in his arms, and make sure you wouldn't let go.

And if you didn't want to get murdered by the press, if you didn't want to further sabotage both your own and Sunday's public image, you knew to take it.

You had no choice but to take it. You were no more than an insect trapped under his thumb.

out of the two of you, there was only one person that was particularly enthusiastic about having a child.

It certainly wasn't you.

Ever since you had first found out about the pregnancy, you had felt empty. As if someone directly sucked the soul out of your body.

You weren't yourself anymore. You hadn't been for a long time.

Sunday didn't seem too bothered by it though.

You weren't sure if it was just his own parental instincts, or whether he could tell that it was almost time for you go into labour. Maybe it was a combination of both. You didn't care. You couldn't care less.

All you knew was that his presence was suffocating. Overbearing. Invasive, even.

You couldn't do anything by yourself. Sunday felt the need to assist you with everything you did. Even basic tasks such as grabbing an object, he insisted that he would get for you.

But what set you off the most, was his intense urge to keep the house in order. You had never seen him having such intense urges to organize a room even when just the slightest thing was out of order. He couldn't stand seeing the slightest speck of dust, he couldn't stand seeing the furniture just an inch out of place.

It drove you to madness.

If you had even slightly misplaced something Sunday you would notice Sunday getting slightly agitated.

From the moment he came home, to the moment he would fall asleep, he spent every waking second making sure the house was perfectly in order, before obsessing over you. At some point you just wanted to wave him off. Lock yourself in the bathroom and sleep for a long period of time, until you had no concept of reality anymore.

You didn't have it in you to keep going. week after week, month after month, Sunday's final goal had always to perfect you into an obedient wife that would do as they were told. And no matter how you tried to fight it... you were always forced back into obedience.

There's two cold fingers touching your chin, and lifting your face up, until you're forced to meet a pair of eyes.

They're bright. Everytime you see them, you can't help but try to look away. They were as bright as the sun, and just like the sun, you felt as if you were going to be blinded jfyou looked at them for too long. You guess it could've also been a sentiment to the power he held over you too.

"Dear, did you hear a word I just said?"

It's an obvious answer. But, you know better by now just to answer the question. You slightly shake your head, which supposedly satisfied him enough, to let go of the fi gers holding your head up.

He sighs, you're not sure in annoyance or in disappointment.

"If you keep acting like this, I'm going to need to resort to drastic measures..."

You look at him one more time. You remember how when you first saw him, you thought of him to be beautiful. To be almost ethereal.

You regret falling into that hypnosis. You regret looking at him at all.

Look at where it got you.

#yandere sunday x reader #yandere sunday #sunday x reader #sunday smut #yandere hsr #yandere x reader #hsr smut #hsr x reader #sorry if i butchered your ask its like. late rn. 💀

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panickedscribbles · 5 months

Text

I've been thinking about Star Wars discourse lately, and I think a lot of the reason so much of the fandom is constant back and forth arguments is because a lot of the time, two characters can be right simultaneously while also disagreeing completely with each other.

Take the whole "Too old, he is" thing.

On one hand, obviously wrong. Anakin is nine, he's at most a few years behind, and textually managed to catch up pretty well. Like, if Palpatine and the Sith Plan weren't constantly messing him up, there is every possibility that Anakin could have become a well adjusted Jedi. Nine is by no means too old to learn a skill.

On the other hand, the council demonstrates perfectly in that scene that they are completely unequipped to deal with a nine year old who hasn't been raised in their culture, especially one from a heavily traumatized background. The pop-quiz they ask him would be perfectly acceptable for a nine-year-old youngling, but Anakin literally just walked in. They are giving an end-of-year exam to a kid who has never even seen a school. And they assume this is fine, because that's just what you do with nine-year-olds.

More to the point, they are completely failing to take into account the previous nine years of his life. They ask a kid, who up until all of about 18 hours ago had been enslaved since birth, to be open and honest about his emotions, in a room full of complete strangers, most of whom answer to "Master"! They have somehow engineered a situation so psychologically damaging that Palpatine is taking notes in the corner, entirely without realizing. When the council says they shouldn't take him in, they are one hundred percent right. Nine is WAY too old when you've spent that time as a slave, and are being entrusted into the care of people who have never had to raise a nine year old who wasn't raised like they were.

Or how about Anakin not being made a master. Was he right to insist he get the title, or was the council.

Well, Anakin should be made a master, you see, because,

He's one of the main Generals fighting and coordinating the war

And he's one of their most successful warriors. Like, he's the guy they call in whenever they need an impossible mission completed

He's more or less the face of the war effort, as "The Hero Without Fear"

As an ex-slave, obtaining the title of Master would be a huge psychological weight lifted off his shoulders.

Since they're making him part of the council for espionage purposes, making him a master as well serves as better cover

Giving him more reason to stay loyal to the Jedi after they just asked him to betray the trust of one of his oldest and closest friends wouldn't be the worst idea

Like, if ever there was a reason to give someone a promotion, those are some pretty good ones.

However, on the opposite side of the issue, literally none of that has any bearing on "Mastery" as the Jedi define it. Being a Jedi Master is all about mastery over oneself, having a deep understanding of the force, and a certain level of inner peace.

You'll notice that at no point does being really good at large-scale violence, being well known for being really good at large-scale violence, or wanting it a lot factor into being made a Jedi Master. Everything Anakin is good at, Everything Palpatine, and the war, and the council have pushed Anakin into being good at, do nothing to bring him any closer to Mastery, and in fact often push him further away from it.

In both of these examples, you can make a very compelling argument in either direction. Hell, you can make a compelling argument in both directions at the same time. And I think that's really neat.

#star wars #star wars meta #anakin skywalker #jedi #jedi council #palpatine

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luveline · 4 months

Note

hey! would you mind writing sirius black x reader (ole flame or something) when they meet for the first time since azkaban at a meeting for the order? thank you and happy holidays!

thank u for requesting, hope this is OK! ♡

—you and sirius both get to go home eventually, 2.2k. fem

You were still kids when Sirius… went away. You thought he hurt James and Lily, and it didn't matter that you loved him because he was evil and cruel and he hurt the people he loved most in the world, and then you were outposted thousands of miles eastward, your life a shadow.

Remus sent you letters. You always answered, even when it hurt, but his last was too much to believe. You told yourself that someone forged his handwriting through a curse or some new gimmick, and then a second arrived with a smaller envelope hidden inside.

No name written on it. No Dear anything to begin.

Things are different to what you've been told. Please come home, it said. This penmanship was shaken like a hand out of practice, but something felt familiar in the curves and dots.

If Remus’ letter (and the second smaller one too) were in fact telling the truth, it means you did something awful, and so, for a while, you don't go.

Please, the next letter says, again enclosed within a larger explanation from Remus, I'm sorry. I just want to see you again.

Getting home isn't as simple as he might think. You have to picture the destination very clearly to disapparate, and you have no sustained recollection anymore of the places you used to go. You remember silly things, slices of memories; the four of them laughing in a big green field, the sweet smell of hair oil to your left; the beige walls of a rented flat where you'd lay in bed for hours, sometimes days at a time, before things got too terrible to sleep; a string-lit garden that last summer, hands of poker on a glass table. These places aren't real anymore. You can't go back to them.

Upon your request, Molly forwards you an address and a secret code.

Trains, buses, trains again. A long walk through a cold street. Some secret this or that. You arrive in the night and a frowning face ushers you in, past a painting sealed away and up the creaking stairs. You spend hours sitting on the end of a bed coated in dust waiting for the sun to rise, your back stiff with nerves. You could slip out before anyone else knows you're here, it's not as if Moody would give you away. But why did you come, if you were going to run straight back to your outpost?

You don't want Sirius’ betrayal to be true, of course. It took your breath away imagining what it would mean if he hadn't done what you thought. If it's all lies (as it seems to be), if he's innocent as he and Remus claim, it means you turned your back on him and left him to suffer, and he's still asking you to come home.

A few people stir for breakfast. Molly, who's voice you remember, and some younger sounding ones that may be her children, or perhaps the newer Order recruits. Then comes Remus’ voice. He sounds different. Less Welsh, more tired. Homely anyways as he passes your door with someone beside him.

“...any day now,” he's saying, “try not to worry.”

“I do worry. I've worried about it every day for years.”

You freeze up.

The stairs creak, Remus’ voice moving further away. “She doesn't need worrying.”

Sirius must stay at the top of the stairs for a moment. He sounds close. “I wouldn't know what she needs.”

“Come have some breakfast.”

“I'll write her again.”

“After breakfast.”

“What if she doesn't come?”

“After breakfast,” Remus insists. “She can ignore you once we've had toast.”

“I forgot how funny you are,” Sirius mutters.

Hearing his voice fills you with doubt. He sounds nothing like he used to, no easy confidence to be heard, just fatigue.

You look down at your hands. Hearing his voice has a new emotion sprouting, too. When you first learned what had happened to your friends, you felt anger like a knife everywhere you went. How could he do that to them? How could he do it to you, be that person, ruin everything you'd loved and made together? But later, when anger faded and grief ached, you'd missed the Sirius you loved. Shamefully, in longing pangs, you'd toss and turn to dreams where things were different.

Now there's a chance he might still be that person, and you're hiding from him in his own house.

“There's someone here,” Molly says as you leave your room, her voice nearly too quiet to hear from the kitchen. “Moody's told me this morning.”

“What?” Arthur asks.

“Who?” a younger voice says.

A small intermission of quiet. “Well, I don't know,” Molly says eventually, though she must have guessed it was you from the letter you sent. “But I'll need another loaf of bread. You'd better go, boys.”

“Mum,” one whines.

“Come on now.”

The stairs whimper as you descend, the bannister sticky with old gloss under your hand. Paisley wallpaper and drapes catch your eye as you pass the overflowing shoe rack. There must be more people here than you'd thought. The coat stand is similarly overloaded.

You can see into the kitchen as soon as you take the last step down. Molly stands wringing a dish cloth between her hands, two teenage boys at the kitchen table. Remus stands near her right with a cup of tea, and when he sees you, he genuinely smiles.

“Oh, good,” he says, the scar that bisects his lip pulling as he takes a sip of tea.

The teenagers turn to see you. “Bread, boys! Arthur, you can go with them," Molly says.

Arthur doesn't complain. You falter in the hallway, quiet as the trio of Weasley's leave the kitchen in their slippers to take a quiet exit from the front door. They smile politely as they go, but the boys whisper as the door shuts behind them. You wonder if they have an inkling of who you are, and then you wonder what you might say now they're gone.

Molly remains, inquisitive to know that you need privacy but also the security of her company. She was always smart like that.

“Come in, then,” Remus says.

“I–” You clear your throat. “I'm not sure I should.”

A startle of silverware against china.

Remus gives you one of his looks. It has tears threatening to well. Why didn't I fight to see him more? you think. Suddenly years have passed and he's changed, but his reassuring glances remain. It's like he's saying everything is fine, why wouldn't everything be fine? Chin up, dove.

Sirius appears in the doorway. Dark circles beneath grey eyes, his cheeks gaunt with hunger rather than the sleek sharpness he once possessed. He's still pretty, if wounded. It's as though you've found an old photo of him that's been smudged with age. He's stepped out of one of your moulding albums to haunt you.

“Angel,” he breathes, his hand clasped low on the doorway, “you're here.”

You look past him to Molly and Remus. There isn't a reality nor dimension where they'd let him stay here if they didn't believe his innocence. Remus explained it all in the letter and still you worried if he might have gotten it wrong, and simply believed what he wanted to believe, but it's not possible. Remus loved James so much, he would've killed Sirius himself if he really thought Sirius was the secret keeper who betrayed them.

So. It's a relief to be home.

You stare at him. “You look tired,” you say quietly.

“I'm fine. I am.”

He seems alright, considering. You'd even say he was handsome with his hair pushed away from his face, a dark shadow of stubble around his mouth, but he looks exhausted.

You're expecting him to say what you'd say. How could you ever think I'd do it?

Sirius was prone to similar bouts of pride, or righteousness, justice, whatever you want to call it, but he doesn't bother with that now. He looks at you as though you're the only person on earth, gaze narrowed but eyes wide, pain between his brows as he asks, “What's wrong?”

Your hand finches up to your cheek to wipe the sudden tear away. “I thought I'd never see you again.” Your Sirius.

“Don't be upset,” he pleads.

“How can I not be? I left you all alone for so long.”

He laughs roughly. “Sweetheart, what were you supposed to do?”

“Not just give up.”

“You thought it was me. That's the only thing you could've done. Either of you,” he says, gesturing backward with his hand. “It was hard… to know who to trust, at the end. It's not your fault.”

You really were only kids together, not half as in love as James and Lily, but that doesn't mean you weren't mad for each other. He looked after you. You would've had a life, you think.

“You were just gone,” you say, looking down at the floor between you, eyes tracing lines of wood grain. “Everyone. There was nobody left. And I just let you go.”

“Do you want to come here?” he asks. You lift your head. His hand is barely in front of him, fingers open, palm up.

It's like taking a stranger's hand for the first few seconds. You keep them low between you both, unfamiliar to each other. But, you find, as his fingers wrap around yours in that selfish way they used to do, squeezing rather than intertwining to make all of them fit, he remembers you.

You step a little closer, your arm to his chest, and look up at him through your lashes. It would melt him like a candle near a furnace, this look. He'd be smug or seething about something and you'd sidle in to stand between his shoes, unsure of what to say but determined to be there for him. It's the same now.

“What's wrong?” he asks under his breath.

“I left you all alone,” you repeat.

“It wasn't your choice, okay?” He smooths his free hand from your elbow to your upper arm.

Molly says something to Remus. He chuckles and says something in return. Happier to admit it if it's only for Sirius’ ears, you say, “I'm really sorry, Sirius. I miss you every day.”

“I miss you too,” he says.

You push your arms around his waist and hide your face in his chest, feeling for the lines of who he used to be, the dip of his spine in his back or the soft cotton of one of his old t-shirts. You regret hugging him at all, until he puts his arm behind your head, a shaky breath released against your crown.

I'm scared, he'd said. But I don't want you to be scared, okay? Barely twenty, he smelled of the sticky red powder on the end of matches after a night doing things he couldn't tell you about. You could tell him you loved him, and he you, but you weren't to discuss Order business. We'll be okay.

But Lily–

Everyone's going to be fine. I promise.

“You promised,” you say to yourself. Too quiet for him to hear, but he does.

“I promised you so many things I'm not sure what one you mean,” he says with a disappointed laugh.

You pull away, taking his face into two hands. “How do you feel?” you ask, ignoring the tremble working up from your wrists.

“What?” His eyes are dark.

“How are you? Did they– I mean, are you okay? Are you sick?”

“Remus has patched me up. And Cordelia, the medwitch, you know her?”

“I don't know anyone. I've been away.”

He nods sadly. “Yeah. Well, you look the same.”

“I don't.”

“You do! You look the same,” —he almost sounds happy, his lips curling into a smile— “sweetheart. Sweetheart–” He closes his eyes.

You push his hair behind his ears. “You don't look the same,” you confess, “you have wrinkles, right… here.” You touch the corners of his eyes.

“You're still beautiful.”

“Mm. You can't even see me.”

“I don't need to see you. I knew you would be.”

You rise up to kiss his cheek gently. “It's like you're back, like– like, I always felt like you were gone. And now you're home again. You are home, aren't you?”

He covers your hand with one of his. “You're here, so–”

You laugh together nervously. “Yeah, I'm here.”

“I have stuff to do to make it right.”

“Then we'll do it.”

“Okay,” he says. He swallows a breath, and wraps you in a surprisingly tight hug. “Did you read my letters?”

I don't want anything from you. Just to see you're okay.

“I read them. I'm okay. Don't I look okay?”

“You look perfect. Just like the last time I saw you,” he says. It startles you how suddenly he sounds like he did when you were young, his flirting drawl, voice velveteen.

“Not like that,” you laugh.

He pulls you as close as you can be, rough now, his arms solid around you. “I missed that,” he says, rubbing your back. “I forgot how you sound when you laugh.”

You've led very different lives. “I didn't forget yours.”

“You wouldn't. You love having things to hold against me.”

You stroke his hair. “Maybe a little.”

#sirius black #sirius black x reader #sirius black x fem!reader #sirius black x you #sirius black x y/n #sirius x reader fluff #sirius black imagine #sirius black fanfiction #sirius black fanfic #sirius black fic #marauders era #marauders #sirius black drabble #sirius black scenario #sirius black oneshot #the marauders #sirius orion black

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pepsichrry · 2 months

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Touch Me || Regulus A. Black

Summary: You and Regulus are best friends and have been since childhood, every moment you spend is together, even ones that aren’t so platonic…

Set during the Marauders Era!

Warnings: Smut, Sexual Content, Innocent!Reader, Innocent!Regulus, Best friends to Lovers? kind of, Virgin!Reader, Virgin!Regulus

Rosier!Reader

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It was a dreary spring evening in the library when you and Regulus sat studying for your upcoming Potions exam. It was also when you’d decided to bring something up that you never had before.

As you were both approaching the end of your fifth year at Hogwarts, it wasn’t uncommon for people to start getting into relationships. In fact, couples seemed to be everywhere you looked, kissing, touching and giggling together. You couldn’t help but be jealous. As a Rosier and a respectable young Pureblood girl, you were expected to stay far away from the opposite gender, and therefore stay a virgin until you were inevitably married off. Of course, these rules had been broken by other Purebloods, like your brother Evan, but not you, nor your best friend, Regulus Black.

Regulus sat opposite you in a secluded corner of the library, the sun breaking through the window panes and casting a heavenly glow over his pointed features. Beneath the table, your ankles interlocked as yours bounced lightly, but Regulus didn’t seem to be affected, he never was.

“Reggie.” You blurted, not wanting to hold your thoughts back any longer. His pretty grey eyes didn’t look up at you despite the call of his nickname that only you were allowed to call him, he only hummed in acknowledgment as his quill kept scribbling against his parchment. You continued. “Do you think that I should date somebody?”

At that, Regulus frowned, slowly lifting his head to look at you, a hint of disgust over his face.

“Why would you want to do that?”

He asked incredulously. You knew that you two were closer than most best friends tended to be, as Evan so kindly reminded you every time he saw the two of you together, but Regulus made no move to suggest that he wanted anything more than a friendship with you, so you figured the idea of a boyfriend would be okay.

You smiled bashfully. “Well, lots of my friends have been getting into relationships and telling me how great it is. I can’t help but feel I’m missing out.” You informed him quietly, mindful of the somber atmosphere of the library.

He frowned further, inky lashes meeting his brow. “Missing out on what?”

You looked down at your book, starting to feel shy at the question. There was lots that you were missing out on. You shrugged, feeling your neck grow hot.

“I dunno, like hanging out and talking and touching. It just all seems so nice.” You admitted half of your thoughts, looking up at him again.

Regulus shook his head dismissively and looked back down to his parchment before continuing his writing. “You don’t need a boyfriend for that! You have me and all of your other friends to do that.”

You laughed lightly under your breath. “I know that, but there are other things.” You tell him, finding his obliviousness sweet. You knew that Regulus was pretty much a genius, a true master at everything he did and tried, but Merlin, how he was stupid. Especially when it came to people.

“Like what?” He scoffed, quill etching a little harsher now.

“Like kissing, and…” You trailed off, making a little noise to suggest what you meant. Regulus’ head snapped up, his look of shock almost made you ashamed.

A second passed as he looked at you closely. “You don’t mean…” You did.

You knew that Regulus was just as inexperienced as you in the matter of sex, but you never knew he’d be so shocked at the mention of it. By the look of his face and the shade of pink he was turning, you began to think bringing up the idea was wrong, maybe it could have stayed between you and your girlfriends.

You gave him a guilty look and he placed his quill down onto the table, recoiling.

“Dove!” He hissed. It had always been his nickname for you, ever since you were young. Now, it nearly sounded like a term of endearment.

“Reggie, it’s really not that outrageous to want to try it.” You told him, but he wasn’t having it.

“It is! You’re a respectable young woman, you shouldn’t want for some boy to take your purity.” He took your hand, resting his warm palm over your knuckles. “You’re too good for that, Dove.”

You knew he was right. You didn’t want to regret anything that you did or lose your virginity to the wrong person, but you wanted to experiment, to be a normal teenager instead of worrying about what your mother would think. You knew she’d have a heart attack if she found out what your brother got up to in his spare time.

“I know, but plenty of other Pureblood girls have done it. Merlin, Evan has even done it!” To that, Regulus made a face of disgust.

“He has and he shouldn’t have. The Rosier name is worth more than some experimentation.” Regulus shook his head, you truly hated to see the disappointment in his eyes when he looked at you.

You sighed. “And what about the Greengrasses? All four of the sisters have slept with someone! Nothings happened to them.”

Regulus retracted his hand, folding his arms in front of him like a teacher reprimanding a student. “The Greengrasses are nowhere near our standing, Dove. We are better than them, you are better than them.”

He was right again. Rosiers and Blacks were far more important than the Greengrasses, it was just common knowledge. Your family name would be slandered in High Society if anybody found out that you’d lost your purity to anyone, the Greengrasses didn’t suffer the same issue, fortunately for them.

“I suppose you’re right.” You agreed, sinking back into your seat.

“I am. You’d be best not to mention it again, Dove.” Regulus said, looking back to his parchment and continuing like the conversation had never happened, the only trace of it being the pink dusting his cheekbones and your own memory of it.

You did wonder why Regulus was so dismissive of the idea, you had been taught the same things by your parents and had similar thoughts and experiences, so how come you both disagreed on something like this? Was it just because you were influenced easier by hearsay than he was?

“Reggie.” You called again, and he hummed, again. “Aren’t you curious about what it’s like?”

The question made him sigh and press his quill firmly down onto the table.

“No, and you shouldn’t be either.” He scolded you, flipping his potions book shut with his incomplete essay inside. “Now come on, we need to get to dinner.”

Nothing more was said as the two of you collected your things and exited the library. But that wouldn’t be the end of it.

The next time the subject was brought up was when you were lying on Regulus’ bed as he read.

It had been a week since your conversation in the library, and it hadn’t been discussed since, you were too worried about what Regulus would say. His tone alone made you feel sheepish about your questions and ideas, so you wished to avoid any further reaction from him. Except this time, he was the one to bring it up.

“Dove?” He said from beside you, gently closing his book and resting it flat against his chest.

“Yeah?” You replied, turning your head to look at him, but his eyes were trained on the ceiling firmly like he was avoiding your gaze.

He drew his bottom lip into his teeth, gnawing as though he was nervous. Finally, he spoke. “Why were you speaking to Avery in the common room today?”

Avery had come to speak with you about your astronomy assignment that you’d been paired with each other for, but the conversation lead pleasantly to recent gossip travelling around school. You found him to be good company, albeit a little dull.

“He just came to talk to be about our astronomy homework.” You answered honestly, playing with your fingers that were folded across your stomach.

Regulus hummed. “Really?” He asked, turning his head to you.

“Yes.” You frowned.

He looked at you closely, stormy eyes circling your own as though he was searching for any hint of a lie in your words. Suddenly, he pushed himself up, off of the bed and started towards his bookshelf. You sat up, watching him move away from you. After waiting for a moment for any sort of conversation from him about the subject, you decided to speak first.

“Why do you ask?” You drew your legs up to your chest and rested your chin against his knees. You weren’t blind to when something was bothering him, usually he would keep it to himself until he exploded, but sometimes, he just needed a small push in the right direction and he’d let loose.

You watched his back straighten as he took in a breath.

“I was worried that maybe you were considering him…” He turned to you, and upon seeing the confusion on your face, he added, “…As your boyfriend.”

“What?!” Your face scrunched up. Why on earth would you want to date Avery?

Regulus scratched at his forehead, shrugging slightly awkwardly. “I just thought… After our conversation in the Library…” He trailed off quietly.

“You thought that I’d want to date Avery?”

“Well, maybe not date but-“ He cut himself off, eyes widening as though he had realised what he said. He quickly turned and busied himself in the bookshelf behind him. He didn’t dare to turn and see your face.

Of course, that wasn’t originally your intention, he just wanted to talk about astronomy, but you couldn’t help but think of it once or twice whilst you were talking. You wouldn’t have gone through with it, but you couldn’t help but wonder what it’d be like. And as always, Regulus knew you too well. And he knew he was right too, he was just too embarrassed to mention the act.

“Regulus-!” You began, desperate to defend yourself, but he snapped abruptly.

“You wanted to, didn’t you?” He looked at you, eyes wide. You opened your mouth to speak, but once again he cut you off. “With Avery of all people?”

“I wasn’t going to do anything! That wasn’t my intention, I’m just curious.” That much was true. You wouldn’t let Avery anywhere near you if it came down to it, but you thought about it, what he’d be like when he took his clothes off, what he’d feel like, what he’d sound like. It was vile and perverted, but you couldn’t help it. Not when the idea had been put into your head.

“Well you need to stay curious! Don’t you realise how stupid you’d be to go through with that with someone like him?” Regulus stormed over to his side of the twin bed since you were sat on one side. He avoided your gaze, but it wasn’t out of nerves.

“Someone like him?” You asked.

“Someone who sleeps around as much as he does! Someone who wouldn’t treat you right!” Regulus said, his words filling you with irritation. What would he know about that?

“And you’d know all about that would you?” You scoffed, knowing that he could deny the fact that he’d never been in close proximity with a girl except for you.

His face burned red now, and he looked at you with a mixture of anger and something close to sham. Why should he be ashamed when he was pure, something that he’d been reminding you to stay being?

“I know far more than he does about treating you well.” He sat back against the headboard, a bitter sneer on his mouth.

“And how would you know that? You’ve never even touched a girl who isn’t me! What could you possibly know about sex that he doesn’t?” You snorted, amused at his little frown. As much of a dick that Regulus could be, he was still your best friend and he was still adorable to you.

He seethed where he sat, jolting forward in anger to growl in your face. “I may not have whored myself around like he has, but I’ve known you, I’ve touched you, I’ve seen nearly all of you. I know every part of your body, that’s something that he’ll never know like I do.”

You shook your head, a smile on your face. “Well, there’s one part he would know better than you if it came down to it.” You reminded him, enjoying the moment of silence that befell you. You knew you’d hit a sensitive spot, but you didn’t care.

Regulus fell back against the headboard, not saying another word and you knew that you’d won. He may have been angry, but it was the price he’d pay for being cocky.

You knew he wouldn’t stay angry at you for long, so you curled up, resting your head on his lap, expecting for him to break his facade. Except this time, he didn’t bring his hand to run over your scalp or untangle your hair, he kept his arms crossed, though he made no move to disturb you, it still felt as though he was rejecting you. You let it be, figuring he’d get over it. Except he didn’t.

“I don’t understand your need to sleep with somebody.” He said finally.

You sighed, you knew well before then that he didn’t understand your thoughts about the matter. “You can’t tell me that you’re not curious.” You smiled slightly at him once you’d turned onto your back to look up at him from where you rested on his thighs.

You glanced down at you but looked away quickly. He shrugged with the shake of his head. “I’m not.”

You heard him perfectly, but something about his tone surely indicated that he was lying. You laughed, bringing a hand up to his face and running a finger over the smooth skin of his cheek.

“Oh, Reggie, you know you can’t lie to me.” You grinned ear from ear when he looked down at you with a stern expression.

He shook his head again. “There’s a difference between being curious and trying to find out.” He told you.

“So you admit that you’re curious! See, you’re no better than me.” You quipped and he rolled his eyes. “You don’t need to keep your curiosity a secret, Reggie, I won’t judge.”

He took in a deep breath and a strange unsureness crossed over his face. It was unusual to see Regulus unsure of anything, he always seemed to know everything about everything. Which was why you were worried you’d crossed a line. At least you were until he began to speak again.

“I- It’s just curiosity, it’ll pass.” He said softly, looking down at you and running gentle fingers over the crown of your head.

“You can keep telling yourself that, but don’t you want to know what it feels like?” You pester him with an answer as the back of your hand goes to nudge at his chest, faintly feeling his rapid heartbeat.

He purses his lips and nods so faintly that if you weren’t paying full attention, you’d miss it.

“So why don’t you try?” You ask simply.

His eyes shoot down to you, oddly calm as his chest rose and fell heavily.

“You know I can’t do that, and neither can you. There are other ways to go about things.” Your attention peaked at that.

You frowned. “How do you go about it?” Regulus flushed and opened his mouth to protest before you cut him off. “Please.”

He fell silent as he looked over the room as though he was searching for an answer to give you. He was so quiet for so long that you were worried he’d never speak again, until he shifted lightly under your head and you watched as he swallowed and how his adam’s apple bobbed. You often forgot how much Regulus had grown and how he isn’t the little boy you used to play Gobstones with in his back garden. Now, he was a beautiful man, standing tall and proud like he was supposed to, but you knew him as your Reggie, he was still yours.

“I can tell you, but you have to promise not to stop pursuing these things.” He whispered.

You sat up, facing him now. “I promise.”

He observed you for a second before nodding. “Do you remember when your mother took us for a walk when we were young? Just you and me.”

You frowned, there were lots of times that she’d take you two out whilst your father was teaching your brother duelling tricks. Regulus continued despite your evident confusion.

“She told us why we weren’t the same, because when we used to take baths together we knew that we didn’t look the way the other did.” He explained simply, as though he was talking to a child.

“Regulus, I know you have a dick and I don’t, I don’t need to be reminded.” You said, scrunching your face up in embarrassment at the idea of Regulus having to give you a sex talk.

“I know, I know! What I’m saying is that she taught us how they were different and how they can feel.” He said softly, reaching down to play with your fingers. Despite how uncomfortable the conversation was, he didn’t shy away from you or your touch.

You still weren’t catching on. “Yes?”

“We can… Feel good without having to have sex. Or at least that’s what I took from it.” He looked down shyly.

“How?” You asked incredulously. Despite your mother and your friends having told you about sex, you were nearly entirely clueless, which is how you were supposed to stay according to Pureblood Society. And now it was coming back to bite you in the ass.

Regulus stuttered at your question. “Uh- Well, you can… Touch there.” He said, shifting uncomfortably on the bed as he fiddled with your hand.

You looked at him questioningly. “Is that what you do?”

He looked at you, wide eyes and eventually he tilted his head to the side. “I have before. It’s meant to feel like the real thing, but I don’t know.”

“How do I do it?” Your question was abrupt and rather shocking judging by his face, but you tried to ignore the awkwardness that came between you two.

He began to smile, presumably to diffuse the awkwardness that overcame him. “You, uh, have something that feels nice to touch.” He told you, breathing starting to get rapid.

“Where?” You lean in to him like he was about to whisper a dark secret to you.

“I’m not completely sure.” He admitted, looking at you fully now as you were so close to him.

“Show me how.”

He fell silent, staring at you, unmoving.

“What?!” He hissed.

You frowned. “What?” You asked innocently, not seeing any issue with the request.

“I can’t do that!” He drew away slightly, but still holding your hand firmly.

“Why not?” You whined.

He sighed. “It wouldn’t be right, I can’t touch you like that.” He swallowed.

“Yes you can. You touch me all the time! You’re doing it right now.” You remind him.

“That’s different!”

“How? It’s just touching, I’m not asking you to have sex with me, Reggie.” You told him honestly, you knew that he was against the idea of sleeping around.

He watched you for a second. “If our parents found out-“

“They wouldn’t, nobody has to find out.”

You watch his eyes slowly trace over you. You hadn’t been back to your dorm to get changed, so you remained in your uniform as you both hung out in his room. He took in a long breath before he met your eyes again, then, something was different.

He shifted his leg slightly, so that there was a wider space between them. He patted lightly.

“Sit.”

You obeyed, dropping down into the space. You were used to sitting like this with him because of how you both read together, so this felt no different except for the anticipation running through your body. You rested your back against his chest and his chin found the crook of your neck.

You shifted to get comfortable before he spoke again. “Take these off.” He instructed as he ran a nimble hand over your tight-clad legs.

You slipped a hand beneath the band of the tights and slipped them down over your calf’s before he took them from you and dropped them on the wooden floor. He placed a hesitant hand on your thigh.

“Just say the word and we can stop, Dove.” He told you and pressed a kiss on your clothed shoulder. You hummed a quick ‘okay’ in response and his soft hand traveled up slowly to grip at the inside of your thigh. A sudden burst of warmth engulfed you beneath your underwear at the sudden attention on your leg.

He then pressed a wet kiss on your neck and the warmth intensified slightly. Without warning, his cool touch slipped beneath the elastic band of your underwear and began to pull them off. You allowed him to unhook them from over your feet and place them in a small bundle beside him. Your lower half was completely exposed, but not for him to see, he made sure of that to preserve some kind of modesty on your behalf.

He brought his slim fingers to his lips, wetting them with his spit before he brought them down onto you without warning. You let out a shaky breath as his fingers spread moisture over your sensitive folds. It was a feeling completely new to you, but it was welcomed as his fingers focused attention on you, circling and rubbing over an area you weren’t sure of.

You sighed suddenly as he pressed down harder and your feet pushed you back into his chest. His mouth opened slightly, almost shocked that he could spur this reaction out of you. His hot breath fanned onto your neck as he worked further into your pussy.

His finger slid through the steadily gathering wetness around your hole and you felt a strange tinge run through your groin. He ran the slippery wetness over you, bringing it all back up the top of your fluttering pussy. You wet your lips as you watched his perfect hands roll over the flesh gently, and you wondered how he was so good at what he was doing.

“How did you learn to do this?” Your voice surprised even you as it came out desperate and gravelly. He sighed into your neck at the sound before he replied.

“My brother used to tell me how.” It was true, Sirius would come home and regale Regulus with stories of whichever girl he was shagging that week, so it was no surprise to you that he’d picked up some knowledge over the years.

His finger began to circle harder, causing you to let out a mewl, a sound that Regulus liked. You could tell by the way he nuzzled further into your neck with a soft sound of his own.

“Oh my Merlin.” He sighed and you wove your fingers through his dark tresses, pulling him closer into you. You wondered if he liked this as much as you did, after all, he’d never even touched a girl before.

Your mouth hung open, legs spreading further open, allowing him to touch more of you as you opened up for him. Your sounds grew more desperate at the you warmth spread more intensely around you.

“Reggie.” You whined, you didn’t know what to ask him to do. Whether you wanted him to go faster or press harder, you didn’t know. You just needed him to do anything he could.

But what you didn’t expect was for him to whine just the same into your hair as his hand seemed to work on its own. He circled both faster and harder, it was like he read your mind.

His spare arm held you tighter, keeping you taut to him as the warmth spread.

Your breathing quickened and your heartbeat heightened and your stomach began to ache? But that couldn’t be right, it felt too good to be a stomach ache. You called to him again, he had to know.

“Reggie.” It somehow sounded more desperate now. Your hand grappled onto his hair as you grew warmer and warmer. “It feels- It feels strange.” You told him as best as you could.

He nodded into you, fingers still working the same as they were, like he knew how to make the ache go away. He shushed you gently. “I know, I know.”

You cried out, legs beginning to close on their own accord despite how much you wanted to keep them open. You shook, you couldn’t help it, not as the warmth exploded and the coil of aching disappeared into a sweet tang in your mouth and a fog over your brain.

Your jaw hung ajar, like you would scream at any moment, but nothing came out, it felt too good to scream.

With his fingers slowing, you could finally feel sense as your legs dropped apart, tingling from the force of pleasure that captured your body. Regulus placed another array of kisses over you, whispering things that you couldn’t hear as your heartbeat slowed down at last.

“You’re amazing.” He said, now wrapping both hands around your waist as you came to your senses.

You couldn’t reply, you could only make a tiny breathy sound to counter him. You felt him smile against your skin.

“So good.” He breathed against you amongst the rest of his sweet nothings. You lay against him, wet and burning at the same time as he cooed at you. You were sure you could fall asleep against his chest as the minutes went by and you grew sleepier than before. Until it washed over you.

“Maybe Avery doesn’t know that part as well as you do.”

#regulus black #sirius and regulus #regulus black fic #regulus black smut #reggie black #harry potter fic #harry potter #harry potter oneshot #regulus deserved better #regulus black oneshot #marauders #marauders era

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