#if you squint.. lawl | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

coqhee · 21 days ago

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HATE NISHIMURA !

IN WHICH ✷ prepping for the school's annual charity event, but with your #1 public enemy ∘ ∘ ∘ more

enemy riki x f!r ― one-sided e2l comedy angst(if you squint) fluff comedy cursing kissing menace!riki ⨯ 6334

em's note ★ this was supposed to be for riki's bday back in dec but I just never got around to proof reading, so theres' a lot of christmasy related themes,, hope its still fun n readable lawl. no joke it took so long to write cause when I was editing I kept adding scene after scene with more detail

it was hard being the class president, filing papers, being every single teacher’s errand runner, and always taking the beating when your class was just being so dumb. though, it wasn’t all bad. you enjoyed planning the school events, and having this sort of responsibility.

this winter, you were planning your school’s annual winter charity drive, your goal was to surpass any other year.

every single school year, your school has fallen way behind their set goal, it was like people had no christmas spirit of giving. you had your mind set to change that.

and what was better than having a little bit of help. when the school admins had notified you saying that you’d have a student ambassador voted by the student body to help you out and co-lead, you were elated.

until you found out, it was none other than nishimura riki.

you hated the way nishimura riki smirked whenever you scolded him for skipping class.

you hated the way he’d talk back to teachers.

you hated the way he laughed during truth or dare in 7th grade when someone else revealed your crush on him and he laughed.

you hated nishimura riki.

─── ♡

you were filing papers in the copy room when a tall figure loomed behind you.

“hey pres, when do we get started,” riki’s voice rang through your ears, startling you. you turned around, glaring at the boy, then went back to filing and stapling.

“you sure you’re not here to be a pain in my ass?” you questioned back with venom in your tone. some part of you wishes you were a little more shameful talking back to another student in front of the other teachers in the room, but you couldn’t find it in you to hold back.

the other teachers in the room exchanged amused glances but stayed quiet, clearly entertained by the exchange. riki had that effect on people—effortlessly charming, even when he was being an absolute menace.

“who says i can’t do both?” he grins back

you sighed, setting the papers down with a little more force than necessary. “look, nishimura, if you’re here to joke around, the door’s that way.” you nodded toward the exit. “i have actual work to do.”

“oh, come on, y/n,” he said, leaning casually against the filing cabinet, his grin unwavering. “you act like you don’t secretly love having me around.”

“yeah and i’d love if you could’ve read the email i sent a week ago with what i need to have done before today,” you rolled your eyes, giving a mock smile to the boy.

riki feigned a look of guilt, his hand flying to his chest. “ah, so that’s why you’re mad. you’re holding a grudge because I didn’t read your essay-length email?”

you crossed your arms, fixing him with a pointed stare. “it wasn’t an essay. it was three bullet points, nishimura. three. and if you had bothered to read it, we wouldn’t be behind schedule. i gave you a week of prep and we are running so far behind with vendors and financing.”

he shrugged, the grin never leaving his face. “guess I like living on the edge. keeps life interesting.”

“you know what’s really interesting?” you shot back, grabbing a stack of papers and thrusting them into his hands. “you doing your job for once. congratulations, you’ve been promoted to my assistant for the day.”

“not even co-pres,” he sighed, hoping to annoy you further, lucky for him, it did.

it only took a moment of fidgeting for riki to figure out how to use the copy machine, and while it was a simple thing, god you hated how he already found a more efficient method than what you were doing within 5 minutes.

“impressed yet?” riki smirked, glancing at you as the copier whirred to life. “i think i’m a natural. maybe you should consider me for co-president after all.”

you rolled your eyes but couldn’t deny the pang of annoyance—and grudging admiration—that flared up. “don’t get too comfortable, nishimura. one productive moment doesn’t erase a weeks worth of slacking.”

“ah, but it’s a start,” he said, stacking the freshly printed papers with a flourish. “besides, you need me. who else is gonna keep you from working yourself into an early grave?”

“i don’t need you,” you retorted, grabbing a paper clip and aggressively fastening a stack together. “i just tolerate you because i don’t have a choice, the school admin assigned someone from the student body to help, and it just so happens the student body thinks you’re oh so funny.”

“tolerate, huh?” he leaned in, his voice dropping to that infuriatingly confident tone that always got under your skin. “clearly, it’s more if you trust me to copy fliers for..” he looks down at what he’s been copying all along.

“‘Jinglin Bucks for Joy’ Holiday Auction” he trails off with a look of disgust.

“who named this charity auction?” he spewed out pure critique from his tone.

you rolled your eyes, snatching the top sheet from the stack in his hands. “does it matter who named it? it’s for a good cause. not everything needs your approval, riki.”

“oh, come on,” he said, leaning against the copy machine with an exaggerated pout. “you have to admit it’s a little... cringy. ‘Jinglin�� Bucks for Joy’?”

“it’s festive,” you countered, defending the name despite secretly agreeing it could’ve been better. “and unlike you, the rest of us are focused on making sure this event actually raises money instead of nitpicking the title.”

“just saying, i think you could be earning a lot more if you didn't have that as a name,” he put his hands up at your accusatory tone.

“well, too bad that’s what it is,”

“anyways, i’m done copying these, and i’d say i did a pretty damn good job,” he smugly said waving around the last stack of copied papers in his hand.

“congratulations,” you said dryly, grabbing the packet from him. “you’re officially the MVP of the copy room. want a medal or something?”

“actually, i was thinking more like dinner,” he said casually, tossing the suggestion out like it was no big deal.

your hand froze mid-motion, the papers suddenly feeling heavier than they should. “dinner?”

he shrugged, a playful grin still plastered on his face, but there was something softer in his eyes. “just to celebrate our hard work, of course. unless you’re scared i might make it fun.”

“you wish,” you muttered, turning away to hide the blush creeping up your neck. “finish your stack first, and then we’ll talk.”

he laughed, the sound warm and light. “deal. but don’t keep me waiting too long, pres.”

─── ♡

for the longest time ever, nishimrua riki could not figure out why you hated him so much. every glaring look you gave him when he greeted you.

every sarcastic comment you threw his way—none of it made sense to him. sure, he liked to tease you, but he teased everyone. with you, though, it felt personal, like there was an invisible barrier between you two that he couldn’t break through no matter how hard he tried.

he wasn’t even sure when you had started hating him, let alone why.

back in 6th grade when you were classmates and he swears thats the last time you’ve ever been nice to him in like, the history of ever.

riki racked his brain, replaying every interaction the two of you had since sixth grade. back then, you’d actually smiled at him, even laughed at his dumb jokes about the teacher’s weird handwriting.

he even thought you were cute and might’ve been developing a crush at the time. that’s an understatement though.

actually, riki had been obsessed with you in sixth grade. the kind of crush that made him extra careful not to look like an idiot when you were around. he remembered trying to impress you during gym class, running just a little faster during laps or kicking the soccer ball a little harder, even if it meant face planting into the ground one too many times.

he was convinced that if he ever had the chance to tell you how he felt, you’d smile at him and say you liked him back and you’d live happily ever after. childish, sure, but he was a sixth grader—what did he know about anything?

now that you and him were finally working together on the school’s lame, and failing charity event, he was determined more than ever to get to the bottom of why you hated him so, so bad.

and of course, it starts with dinner.

that, being the $6 after hours discount sushi at your grocery store. okay, so maybe it wasn’t the best dinner imaginable, but with riki’s limited budget and even more limited time, it was the best he could do on short notice. plus, he was convinced sushi was a universal icebreaker—who could resist a good spicy salmon roll with day-old rice and browning avocado?

no wonder it was $6.

“dinner,” you deadpanned, staring at the plastic containers he held out. “this is your grand idea to fix whatever this disaster of a charity event is?”

“no,” he grinned, plopping the containers onto the nearest desk and pulling up a chair. “this is my grand idea to get you to talk to me without biting my head off.”

you raised a brow, unimpressed. “and why would i do that?”

“because,” he started, peeling the lid off a tray of salmon rolls, “you’ve gotta eat, and i’m not leaving until we clear the air.”

you rolled your eyes. there was no way you were going to be talking about your issues with riki. “i’m not talking about my issues with you, we’re gonna be talking plans for the charity event,”

riki sighed dramatically, picking up a piece of sushi with his chopsticks. “fine, fine, charity event it is. but I’m warning you, my feelings might get hurt if you keep ignoring me.”

“oh, cry me a river,” you muttered, flipping open your notebook and pulling out a list of tasks. “we need to finalize the vendor approvals, confirm the auction items, and—”

“kinda cold out no?” he asked absent mindedly looking at his phone. you groaned in disapproval, how many more reasons could he give you for hating him?

“can you focus for 2 seconds nishimura?” you questioned with annoying radiating strongly from your tone. “you’re the reason we’re behind right now, and we need to get a move on, except no, you’re on your phone, and get to take credit for the work, i’m doing,”

riki slowly put his phone down, his lips twitching like he was holding back a laugh. “you done, boss?”

“no, i’m not done,” you snapped, glaring at him. “you’re insufferable, nishimura. do you even care about this event?”

he leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms with an easy smirk. “of course i care. i’m here, aren’t i?”

“barely,” you shot back, flipping through your notebook aggressively. “you’re here, but you’re not actually helping. if you cared even a little, you’d—”

“relax,” he interrupted, his tone unusually calm. “you’re gonna give yourself a stress headache. i already checked in with the admins about the vendors, they’re all approved, and i sorted through part of the auction items already,”

you were skeptical to say the least, unsure of the quality of work riki would put in. he turned his phone around and handed it to you, letting you look through all the documents and files he’d pulled up.

you scanned the screen, flipping through the emails and spreadsheets he’d meticulously organized. it was... surprising. everything looked in order, maybe even more thorough than what you’d expected.

“don’t stress yourself out, kay? i’ve can handle stuff too. that’s why they put two of us up to this,”

you narrowed your eyes at him, still not entirely convinced. “you’re way too relaxed about this. it’s weird. are you trying to mess with me?”

“y/n,” he put his hand around your wrist forcing you to set your chopsticks down for a second, “put some faith into me, let me help,”

you hesitated, staring at where his hand rested lightly on your wrist. his touch wasn’t overbearing, just steady enough to get your attention. his words lingered in the air longer than you cared to admit.

“fine,” you muttered, pulling your hand back and avoiding his gaze. “but if you screw this up, it’s on you.”

─── ♡

one week had gone by since nishimura riki had started being useful. you were surprised with the quality of work he put into the project, not ever once worrying about any finance emails as he was quick to take care of it.

not only that, but he had started showing up to your study sessions, popping by with snacks or making sure you were eating at least once a day.

it was… weird to say the least. you couldn’t say you didn’t like it though. it felt nice to not be entirely alone, worrying about yourself and everyone else constantly.

riki even brought coffee to your early morning meetings with the district board, handing it to you with a teasing smirk, "you looked like you were about to fall asleep in your notes, so I thought I'd help."

you tried not to smile too much at the gesture, but it was hard to ignore the small spark of fondness that began to grow inside you. his thoughtfulness was... unexpected, especially given how much you had believed him to be nothing more than a lazy troublemaker.

you kept trying to find reason after reason to nitpick at riki, yet none came up. you could’ve sworn it was easier to find so much fault in everything he’d do before you had started working together, but all of a sudden they’ve faded.

at first, it had been so easy to be irritated by him. the way he’d walk into a room like he owned it, his stupid grin that seemed to always be a little too smug, the way he’d talk as if everything was a joke.

you'd spent years loathing his presence, convinced he was just some annoying, carefree guy who only cared about himself and was out to make your life more difficult. that’s what you’d told yourself. that’s what you believed.

but now? now, it was different. working side by side on the charity event, you began to notice things you’d never seen before. the way he cared about the details. the way he would take over when you got overwhelmed, quietly working to fix things before you could even ask for help. the way he showed up on time every day, doing everything he could to make sure things ran smoothly.

it was... disorienting, to say the least.

it was late one evening, the two of you sprawled across the desks, working on the final details of the charity event.

"you’re the only one who would still be working at this hour," riki said, leaning back in his chair and watching you from across the room. his gaze softened for a moment, but you didn't notice. you were too busy finishing a set of final emails. "can I help with anything else?" he asked casually, but you could hear the underlying sincerity in his voice.

“guess you can take a break you bum, go grab a snack from the vending machine or something, grab me a sprite while you’re at it,” you say, digging out a $5 bill from your pocket and holding it out behind you, while focused on the screen in front of you.

he raised an eyebrow, but there was no hesitation as he stood up and took a step toward the door. "i got it," he said with a grin, slipping the bill back into your hand before you could protest. "this one’s on me."

a few minutes later, riki returns, the sound of the vending machine bag crinkling in his hands. he places a can of sprite on the corner of your desk with a flourish. "your highness," he says dramatically, "your drink, as requested."

“mm thanks,” you hum, cracking open the can and taking a sip out of the cold refreshing drink, the fizz laying dormant on your tongue.

“you don’t need to keep doing all this nice stuff to win me over, just cause we’re working on the auction, you know that right?” you comment after taking another sip.

“ah, so I’m starting to win you over,” riki grinned, a playful glint in his eyes. “told you I’d be useful.”

you rolled your eyes, but your lips were tugging into a small smile. "don’t get ahead of yourself, nishimura," you muttered, though it was clear you were no longer bothered. in fact, you kind of... liked having him around.

you didn’t hate nishimura riki.

─── ♡

the day before the auction rolls around faster than you thought it would.

while you and riki should be meeting with the vendors in person and getting other important work done, the two of you found yourselves putting up the last batch of fliers for the event, your hands full of paper and tape.

“ugh, why do we have to be the ones doing this?” you muttered, sticking another flier to the wall, your fingers lightly brushing against the cool surface. "we should be overseeing the auction, not putting up fliers like we're in charge of the school play's promo team."

riki chuckled from beside you, holding a stack of fliers in his hand as he adjusted his baseball cap. "hey, someone’s gotta do it. besides, you’re the one who wanted these ridiculous posters," he teased, pointing at the flyer in your hand, which featured a picture of a reindeer in a santa hat with overly saturated colors.

“i’ll have you know, these posters are actually art,” you shot back with a grin, tapping the paper to the wall a little more forcefully than necessary. “besides, i’d like to think they’re festive.”

“sure, sure,” riki said, his grin spreading wider as he glanced at the flier you were working on. “if by festive you mean blinding.”

you laughed, feeling a warmth spread through you. riki’s teasing had become a lot easier to tolerate, maybe even fun. he was good at making you laugh, something you never thought he could do before.

the playful banter you’d shared over the past week was slowly chipping away at the character of riki you’d spent years building up in your mind.

“you tryna go out and get hot chocolate after we wrap this up?” he asked, cocking his head gauging your reaction.

“in this weather?” you asked, glancing outside where the wind whipped against the window and the sky was an icy gray. “are you out of your mind?”

“maybe,” he grinned. “but hot chocolate makes everything better, right?”

you couldn’t help the smile that tugged at your lips. riki was right, in his own annoying way. hot chocolate did sound nice, especially on a day like today. the thought of sitting down somewhere, just the two of you, without the weight of the charity event hanging over you... it felt strangely appealing.

“fine,” you sighed, rolling your eyes dramatically. “but if you make me walk to the corner shop in this cold, i'm blaming you.”

“deal,” he said, not missing a beat. “we’ll take my car.”

he flashed a grin at you, and for a second, you almost felt like it wasn’t just about the hot chocolate. there was something more in his eyes, something that made the conversation feel different, lighter, almost... comforting.

you quickly pushed that thought aside. no, you weren’t about to go down that path. but you couldn’t deny that riki was making it harder to keep your walls up. every little interaction, every small smile, made you rethink the way you’d viewed him for years.

it was as if the years of tension, of seeing him as nothing more than an annoying, reckless guy, were slowly fading into something else.

yet, in the back of your mind, that old familiar voice crept in—the one that told you to be careful, to guard your heart because you knew exactly what happened when you let your guard down.

you’d been there before. back in seventh grade, when you’d caught feelings for him and let yourself believe maybe—just maybe—he could feel the same. but that was before the truth or dare game, before he laughed it off like it was a joke, like it was nothing worth taking seriously.

he’d been so carefree, so effortlessly charming in front of everyone, and you’d been so embarrassed. you’d sworn to yourself you’d never let yourself fall for him again.

and yet, here you were. laughing with him, sharing these moments like you were the closest of friends. it was easy to forget the hurt, easy to ignore the part of you that still flinched at the memory of his laughter.

you wanted to be able to move past though, and believe he wouldn’t be the same boy who’d laugh if you told him you liked him

he stood up, pulling his jacket on and offering you a hand as if he had all the time in the world. “you ready?”

you hesitated for a moment, then grabbed your own coat and stood up. “mhm, yeah.”

“you won’t regret it,” he said with that same confident grin, and for the first time in a long time, you believed him.

you shook your head, trying to push those thoughts away. there was no way he would do that to you again, right? no, he’d changed. he had to have changed.

but even as you smiled back at him, as the two of you walked out into the cold night together, the doubt gnawed at you like a constant shadow, just waiting for the perfect moment to remind you of all the reasons you had to keep your distance.

─── ♡

nishimura riki could feel himself falling. again. though it’s not like actually every fell out liking you to begin with.

and now, as he sat across from you, trying to figure out how to navigate this new territory—where the walls you’d built between you were finally starting to crumble—he couldn’t help but feel that same pull toward you, that same feeling of wanting to be close.

he felt himself feel like he was back in middle school with you all over again.

then it hit him what had gone wrong, and he knew he had to set the record straight.

“so... seventh grade,” he started, turning back to you, handing you your cup.

you froze mid-sip, the mention of that year, let alone night, sending a jolt of embarrassment through you. “what about it?”

he set his chopsticks down, his expression unusually serious. “is that when you started hating me?”

you scoffed, crossing your arms as the words slipped out before you could stop them. “sure.”

you felt your walls building back up, stronger this time, higher than before. that night had been the catalyst for everything that followed—your reason for hating nishimura riki.

riki watched you carefully, his eyes softening. there was no sign of mockery in his gaze, no hint of teasing—just the same quiet sincerity you had seen over the past few weeks. but you weren’t sure you could let yourself fall for it again.

“i’m serious,” he said quietly, his voice lacking the usual playful edge. “was it really that night? or... was it just easier to keep hating me after?”

your chest tightened at his words, a mixture of frustration and confusion swirling within you. “i don’t want to talk about it,” you muttered, finally meeting his gaze. you couldn’t read the expression on his face, but it only made you more anxious.

“if it brings you any peace of mind, i laughed because i liked you, okay?” the words tumbled out of his mouth before he could stop them, and his cheeks flushed pink. “i liked you, and you blurting out that you had a crush on me... it threw me off.”

your jaw dropped, the confession catching you completely off guard.

“you... what?”

“i liked you,” he repeated, quieter this time, his gaze dropping to the table. “but i handled it like an idiot, and i’m sorry. i should’ve stood up for you, if you wanna keep hating me, go ahead.”

“i’m sorry for holding it against you all this time,” you mumbled.

riki didn’t look up at you immediately, but you could see the tension in his shoulders ease just a little. you had no idea what to say after that. the words you’d carried with you for so long—the reasons you hated him, the reasons you pushed him away—suddenly felt like nothing more than old wounds that had started to heal on their own, without you realizing it.

you sat in silence for a moment, both of you unsure how to move forward. it was almost as if the confession had left you both vulnerable, unprotected.

“you really liked me?” you asked, half laughing at how ridiculous it sounded now that it was out in the open.

riki’s eyes flickered with an unreadable emotion, and he shrugged, the teasing tone returning to his voice. “yeah. shocking, right?”

the playful comment was like a breath of fresh air, and for a second, the tension between you both was broken. but you couldn’t ignore the way your heart was racing, the fluttering feeling you hadn’t experienced in so long.

“i think, i like you too nishimura,”

“good, keep it that way,” he smiled, reaching out his free hand not surrounding his cup to clasp yours.

you felt your heart skip a beat at the sincerity in his eyes. "you know, you’ve actually been pretty decent lately," you said with a teasing smile, hoping to lighten the moment a bit. "maybe you’ve actually grown up, or maybe i have"

me chuckled, leaning back in his chair, but his hand remained near yours, his fingers lightly grazing the back of your hand. "maybe I have. but I’m still the same guy who likes you. just... trying to be better about it."

you bit your lip, your smile softening as you took in his words. for once, you didn’t feel like you had to keep your guard up. "i think I like this version of you."

"good," riki said, his voice barely above a whisper. "because this version of me likes you too."

a silence fell upon the two of you as you took in the atmosphere around you, looking around awkwardly.

“well,” you said after a beat, not sure where this was headed, but feeling oddly at ease. “you really know how to make things awkward.”

riki grinned, the corners of his lips curling into that familiar mischievous smile. “you’re the one who’s been holding a grudge for, what—years?”

“rightfully so, you’re the one who laughed. you’re lucky the student body voted you to work on the auction with me,” you shot back, the edge of your tone softening just a bit. It was hard to keep being mad when he was being so... well, riki.

“hey, don’t act like you could’ve done this with anyone else,” he teased, nudging your arm lightly with his own. “i mean, look at us. we’ve made a pretty good team, right?”

you rolled your eyes, but a smile tugged at your lips despite yourself. "yeah, a pretty good team that almost got yelled at and kicked off the project because you were too busy texting during the planning meetings."

“hey, i was checking in with the vendors,” he said defensively, holding his hands up in mock surrender. “i’m a multitasker.”

“you mean you’re just a distraction,” you replied, your voice laced with playful sarcasm.

“uh huh,” he rolled his eyes, grinning afterwards.

─── ♡

the day of the auction soon came and you found yourself getting ready with a hopeful mind of what was to come.

the last few weeks of you and riki’s hard work would finally be tested, and hopefully you could bring back some holiday cheer for charity, though a layer of uncertainty was still in your mind.

as you stood in front of the mirror, adjusting your dress, you couldn’t help but feel a little more at ease than usual. the nerves had faded, replaced with something lighter. maybe it was the fact that you and riki had finally talked things out, or maybe it was just the comfort of knowing you weren’t doing this alone anymore. you still didn’t have everything figured out between the two of you, but for the first time, it felt like you were both on the same page.

you met riki backstage before the event started. his hair was perfectly styled, and the suit he wore fit him just right. there was something about him in that moment—calm, collected, yet still as mischievous as ever—that made your heart do a little flip.

“you look good,” you said, trying to sound casual, though there was a softness to your voice that you couldn’t hide.

riki turned to you with a teasing grin, but his eyes softened when he took you in. “you look amazing,” he said, the sincerity in his tone making you feel a little shy. “i mean it.”

your heart skipped, and you brushed your hair back, trying to play it off. “well, don’t get used to it. you’re the one who’s been doing most of the work,” you joked, nudging his arm playfully.

“true, true,” he agreed, a smile tugging at his lips as he adjusted his cufflinks. “but you’ve been the brains behind it. i’m just the pretty face.”

you rolled your eyes but couldn’t suppress the small smile creeping up on your face. “right, the ‘pretty face’ who kept texting during all the important meetings.”

he chuckled, the sound light and easy. “hey, it was multitasking. get it right.”

before you could respond, someone called your names, signaling that the event was about to start. riki offered you his arm with a grin, the moment feeling a little more like a date than anything else.

as you walked into the venue together, the lights dimmed, and the guests filled the room. the auction was about to begin, but in the chaos of people and students gathering around and the rush of excitement, you found yourself standing next to riki, feeling surprisingly calm.

“you ready for this?” he asked, his voice low, just for you.

you gave a small nod. “i think so. let’s just hope we don’t screw anything up.”

he grinned, his hand brushing yours briefly. “even if we do, we’ve got each other’s backs.”

you took your seat in the front row with your bid paddle in hand as you watched riki announce each item.

the first few items went smoothly, and you found yourself glancing over at riki every now and then, catching his eye, and feeling his radiating confidence.

you glanced back at the screen over and over, watching the donation reach close to the school goal of $2000, feeling hopeful you might actually hit it for once.

the auction had been a smooth ride so far, with everything going according to plan. the excitement in the air was palpable, and you could feel the buzz of anticipation from both the audience and the team behind the scenes. each item was going for more than expected, and the donations were rolling in steadily. everything was shaping up to be a success.

then came the final item.

riki stepped up to the microphone, his usual teasing grin plastered on his face. “alright, folks,” he began, his voice smooth and confident, “we’ve got one last item up for grabs. it’s the grand finale, the cherry on top of this entire event. it’s... a date with yours truly.” a cocky smile formed on his face, as he nodded smugly, pointing to himself.

you froze, the surprise hitting you a second too late. the audience erupted into laughter and applause, but you couldn’t help but roll your eyes at riki’s ridiculousness. he gave a mock bow, and the laughter grew louder.

“that’s right, ladies and even gents,” he continued, his eyes scanning the crowd. “you get to spend an evening with the one and only nishimura riki. dinner, a walk in the park, maybe even a movie if you're lucky. the best date of your life. no need to thank me.” he shrugged, clearly enjoying himself.

you couldn’t help but chuckle, shaking your head. “seriously, riki?” you mouthed towards him watching as he smiled smugly back.

“alright we’re starting this bid at $1, any takers?” his eyes scanned the crowd jokingly as he continued on, watching as people egged each other on to bid.

but before you could stop yourself, you found your hand reaching for your bid paddle. your eyes flickered to riki, who was watching you with an amused expression.

“come on, y/n,” he teased, “you know you want to.”

you hesitated for a moment, but the playful glint in his eyes, the way he looked at you as if daring you to do it, pushed you forward. with a mischievous grin of your own, you raised your paddle, calling out “$100!” with a cheerful smile.

the crowd’s reaction was instantaneous—there were gasps, followed by bursts of laughter, as the bid sheet was raised for all to see. the final bid was noticeably higher than the previous ones, and you could feel your face flush with the attention.

“going once, going twice, and sold!” he announced, slamming the gavel with a strong bang.

“well, well,” riki said, stepping back to to take the microphone from the stand to hand it to you, his expression one of mock shock. “looks like someone’s feeling bold tonight. looks like y/n just won a date with me, someone’s got a crush, i don’t blame her.”

you shot him a look, trying to keep your cool. “you better be prepared, riki,” you said, your voice just loud enough for the mic to catch as he handed you the mic to give your statement.

he raised an eyebrow, looking both impressed and slightly nervous. “oh, it’s on. and just like that lady and gents, we just hit our goal too,” he added, glancing at the screen where the total amount had just surpassed the $2000 mark.

the room erupted into applause, and you felt a mix of satisfaction and embarrassment settle over you. riki’s grin softened into something a little more sincere.

as the applause continued and the event slowly came to a close, you found yourself standing beside riki, the noise of the crowd fading into the background as the two of you shared a quiet moment. there was something unspoken between you now, something that went beyond the playful teasing and jokes.

“you know,” riki said, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye, “this whole thing—working together, laughing, making this auction happen—it’s been... nice. really nice.”

you turned to him, catching the genuine warmth in his gaze. “yeah,” you agreed, feeling a sense of contentment you hadn’t realized you’d been missing. “it’s been good.”

the awkwardness from earlier had melted away, replaced by a sense of ease you hadn’t felt in a long time. you could see riki in a new light now, not just the careless, teasing guy from your past, but someone who actually cared, who had grown alongside you.

“so,” riki said, breaking the silence, “now that the auction’s done, what do we do next?”

you raised an eyebrow, a playful smile tugging at your lips. “well, since you owe me a date, we could start with that,” you said, unable to resist.

riki smirked, his usual confidence returning. “oh, i’m looking forward to it.”

riki’s smirk softened as he took a small step closer to you, his gaze lingering on yours in a way that made your heart race. the space between you felt different now—more intimate, charged with a new energy that neither of you had quite acknowledged until now.

“yeah?” he asked softly, his voice almost a whisper as his hand brushed against yours, just a touch, but it was enough to send a jolt through you.

you nodded, feeling your breath catch. “yeah,” you replied, your voice steady, though your heart was anything but.

he was so close now, his presence overwhelming in the best way, and for a moment, neither of you spoke. the noise of the event faded away, leaving just the two of you standing in the soft glow of the lights.

without another word, riki leaned in, his eyes flickering down to your lips before meeting your gaze again, seeking permission. you could feel the warmth radiating from him, the same warmth that had been growing between you both over the last few weeks.

you couldn’t help but smile, a little breathless, before you leaned in, closing the gap. the kiss was soft at first, tentative, but the moment your lips met, something shifted. it was like a weight had been lifted, like all the years of misunderstandings, teasing, and distance finally melted away.

riki’s hand found its way to the back of your neck, pulling you just a little closer as the kiss deepened, slow and gentle. it was everything—everything you’d both been waiting for, without even realizing it.

he pulled away smiling, wiping the small bit of lipgloss that had smudged, looking into your eyes.

the two of you shared a look, the kind that spoke volumes, and for the first time, you weren’t worried about the future. you didn’t know where this would go, but for once, it didn’t matter. what mattered was that you were here, together, and that was enough for now.

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ihfmseatsoch · 26 days ago

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dad jimmy putting melatonin in his daughters drink so he doesn't have to deal with her crying when he tries anal with her pleasee

writing this was bad for my daddy issues lawl

genre: smut, dark fic

word count: 1.9k

warnings/content: incest, parental abuse, noncon, drugging, somno, misogyny if you squint, jimmy sucks -_-

—

Your dad never wanted you.

That's something you've known the moment you were conceived, before you were even told how much he hated you. Before you could recognize the expression twisted on his face whenever he looked at you.

Contempt.

He constantly reminded you how much of a burden you are. How you're lucky he even bothers housing and feeding you. How you're nothing but a soul sucking leech in his life.

Still, every kid wants their parent to be proud of them. Craves their affection deep down, even if they'll never receive it. You tried to be a good daughter, one that he could be happy to call his own. Your grades were decent. You made him cards on father's day. You tried to joke with him, make him laugh; all your efforts were met with absolutely nothing in return. Maybe an unamused scoff, on occasion.

It seemed the only way to get him to tolerate being around you, was to let him use you. You let him grope you anywhere he wanted, let him fuck you within an inch of your life, his cock pounding painfully hard into your cunt, and all you could do was cover your mouth and muffle your sobs. He rarely even made you cum. At least he liked you for your body, you thought. His love, or whatever he felt for you in those moments, was rewarding enough.

Of course, giving him exactly what he wanted wasn't enough for very long. It was obvious he was growing bored of you. He stopped coming to your room at night, stopped initiating anything at all.

You were rejected once again, and it hurt more than anything.

"What did I do wrong?" You found yourself asking him, in a moment of desperation, after crying in your desolate room for hours, until your eyes swelled and stung. When your question is met with silence, you continue, "Why don't you love me?"

You let him do anything he wanted to you. Allowed him to violate you, deflower you, and even after all of that, you're still met with indifference. You feel like you're going insane, acting like you're one of his ex girlfriends, rather than his daughter.

Jimmy stared blankly down at the floor, licking his chapped bottom lip, contemplating your question. Why didn't he love you? There's a lot of answers he could give, none of them rational. Maybe it's because you look like her, especially when you cry. Or, because he felt as if you were a tedious responsibility, rather than his own flesh and blood. It was hard for him to even see you as a human being. You were something he was forced to care for, like an unwanted pet.

"I can't deal with this shit right now." Is the line he chooses to repeat like he does every time you get emotional, pinching the bridge of his nose in annoyance.

"Please," You beg, approaching his figure on the couch, kneeling down like you're pleading to God himself, "Just tell me what to do. What do you want from me?"

He looked almost disgusted at the sight of your groveling. "Jesus Christ..." He sighs, standing to his feet. You've been in this position several times before, with you on your knees before him, as he towers over you. You almost feel hopeful that he'll pull his cock out and shove it down your throat, making you feel useful to him again. A harsh, "Get up. You look like an idiot." crushes that hope.

You obey, naturally, and he takes a moment to just... observe you, the much shorter girl in front of him, sniveling and desperate for his affection. If you were any other woman, he'd be enjoying this. He often feels a twinge of shame in how cruel he is to you. He has a daughter that genuinely loves and worships him, and he doesn't even have the capacity to appreciate her. You're like a stray in an alley that follows him around in search of scraps. It's rather pitiful.

He should just tell you what you want to hear so you shut the fuck up for once, offer you an ounce of sweetness that he rarely gives away so freely. Although, that'd just get you more attached. There's unfortunately no getting rid of you either way, he decides.

"Come here."

Jim pulls you into a stiff hug. Everything about it is forced, and it's downright uncomfortable for him. He's hugged you, what, barely a handful of times in your whole life? Nonetheless, to you, it feels like absolute bliss. You rest your cheek against his chest, your arms wrapped around his torso like you want to keep him locked in place forever.

He rigidly pats your head as he wracks his brain for something to say. Something disingenuous to temporarily pacify you. "It's not... fuck, it's not you, alright?" He lies. It's absolutely you. "Got a lot of shit goin' on. I don't hate you or anythin' okay?"

That part is a half-truth. He doesn't exactly... hate you. He just dislikes the fact that you're alive. That may sound a lot like hating you, but... it's a lot more complicated in his mind. You seem to believe him, calming down, which is an immense relief to him.

Having just about enough of this parental affection shit, he pulls away, almost too eagerly. How does he get you to leave him alone now that he's indulged you? "You want some water or somethin'? You look like you've been crying for days." He attempts to sound concerned, but his words come out flat.

You nod and rub your eyes, hot from the hundreds of tears you've cried. You've lost your voice at this point, feeling so low you're unable to find the energy to speak. At least he doesn't have to listen to you talk right now.

Jimmy heads over to the kitchen, grabbing a cup from the drying rack that looks... clean enough. If you don't squint. The bottle of dissolvable melatonin tablets sitting idly on the counter beside the sink entice him. It'd be so easy... so stupidly easy to just...

He doesn't count how many he slips into your drink. Hopefully you won't notice the difference between the usual cloudiness of your shitty tap water, and the way the tablets look dissolving in the liquid, making it appear unappetizingly murky. He should've opted for a normal roofie, he thinks, but he shouldn't take longer than he needs to grab you a glass of water of all things. You'll come in and ask what he's doing, fucking everything up.

"Here. This'll help." He tells you, handing you the glass. Thankfully, you don't notice a thing wrong with the drink, and he watches you gulp down the tainted liquid with an unnerving amount of focus.

It doesn't take too long for you to pass out on the couch, maybe half an hour or so. His initial plan to simply get a break from you changes as he watches you, nice and unconscious. Anything he could do to you would go unnoticed. The dose he gave you will probably have you knocked out for hours.

Plus, you're in his spot. You should get punished for that alone. He tried to get rid of you, and you're still here. You're always fucking here, in his personal space.

In his eyes, you're getting what's been coming to you. He rolls you onto your stomach with a lack of cautiousness that risks awakening you, but the growing anger that's stirring inside of him, directed at you for no apparent reason, makes it difficult for him to care if you're conscious for this or not. His frustration is apparent in the way he yanks your pants down, not a glint of mercy in his dark eyes.

He's angry at you because you're alive. Because you had the audacity to grow in your whore of a mother's womb. You had the gall to be born at all, believe you're entitled to his attention from the moment you opened your eyes, wailing every fucking night, waking him up just because you were hungry, writhing in your crib like a parasitic worm.

If you're going to look so much like your mother, he may as well use you like he used her. Like a bitch who's only good for her holes. And, lucky for him, there's one he hasn't claimed yet.

Jimmy fondles your ass, spreading it apart so he can inspect the tight muscle that you thought you had the right to deny him access to. He made you. He owns the body that he created. He's entitled to every inch of what belongs to him. As far as he's concerned, you're equivalent to his property.

He gives his cock a couple strokes, already hard from the very idea of desecrating you even further, and, for once, you'll be completely silent. He won't have to listen to your absolutely grating noises. He wants a fleshlight, not an actual person. At least you'll finally act like a toy in this state.

Jimmy spits a wad of saliva onto your hole, rubbing his cock along the rim to lube up his fat tip before pressing inside, causing you to twitch in your sleep as he stretches the taut muscle open wide enough to fit his shaft inside. He groans, the sound evolving into a deep growl as he feels you squeeze around his dick, your tightness making it difficult for him to push further. "You're gonna let me the fuck in," he grunts, spitting on your hole again to make you slick enough for him to ease himself in deeper, "Whether you fuckin' want it or not. Y' don't get a say in this."

He manages to force himself balls deep into your ass, his hard thrusts loosening the hole enough so he's able to slide in and out without any more complications. "Feels so much better than your cunt, jesus..." He sounds winded as he speaks to you, even though you can't hear him at all. "You're a lot better when you're quiet. Don't have to hear you whining, talkin' 'bout, 'it hurts, dad, it hurts!'" Jimmy mocks you in a high pitched tone, chuckling at his own impression.

"Yeah, I like you a lot more like this. Should drug you more often, huh?" He grabs your hair and makes you nod your head at his question. "Glad you agree."

Jimmy has a tight grip on your hips as he hammers his dick in and out of your hole, gaped wide to accommodate his size, snapping his hips into you with a force that'd leave you sobbing in pain if you were awake. It's honestly a blessing that you're conked out for this. He spared you from experiencing the worst part.

He takes his chance to finally cum inside of you for the first time, filling your cunt being too risky, even for him. He doesn't want another kid. That's worse than death. But your ass? Fair game. Jimmy pumps your hole to the brim with a low groan that rumbles in his chest.

He doesn't bother to clean you up when he pulls out, heading to his room without another word. You wake up the next afternoon with a sore ass, and dried semen on the back of your thighs.

Maybe he does still love you, after all.

—

#mouthwashing jimmy x reader #jimmy mouthwashing x reader #mouthwashing jimmy #jimmy mouthwashing #dark fic #tw noncon #cw noncon #noncon cw #noncon tw #incest tw #tw incest #cw incest #incest cw #dead dove #dead dove do not eat #dddne

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writtenontheport · 2 years ago

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Just an Afternoon at Portland Row

Pt. 1: Just a Morning at Portland Row

Finale: Just a Night at Portland Row

Anthony Lockwood x (gn) reader

Warnings/Tags: Idiots in love (again), mentions of death and loss, Still a romcom though, major tropes, a bit of bittersweet angst, Lucy and Reader friendship, Old Man with advice, Lockwood’s a silly guy and I stand by this, George and Lockwood friendship, Norrie is mentioned indirectly, please tell me if you catch any more, Imagine that moment where character a dumps on a random elderly stranger and has an epiphany about character b

Notes: I wrote this all under a trance, I will be 100% honest with you, I only lightly read it over after 😭 I will make a part 3, but who knows when it’ll be!! This fic is what happens when you’re forced to binge classic romcom 2000’s movies and then treat yourself to Lockwood and co LAWL.

Summary: Lockwood wants to return the favour for once, and gets a bit of advice from an old-timer along the way. You have a lovely chat with Lucy, and George is too close to pulling his hair out over everything happening.

Word count: 2k+

The jingle of a bell has Lockwood turning up to find it hanging over the door, his lips pressed thin. The shop is empty as he walks in, sunlight pouring from the windows lining the walls and splaying over the flowers tucked in every corner and on every surface. The whole place smelled refreshingly sweet; cool despite the heat. Teal walls hide behind endless arrays of every other colour, tables strewn and pots haphazard.

An old man comes out from a door behind what must be the counter, small pots lined along the top. He hobbles over and squints his eyes at Lockwood, a dopey smile on his wrinkly face.

“Would you like to come in?” He asks kindly, his voice like a croak. Lockwood sends him a small smile as he steps out of the doorway and shuts softly behind him. “Do you have anything specific you’re here for, or are you just looking around?”

He runs a hand along the edge of the nearest table, basking in the openness of each and every bud and bloom. “I’m here to return a favour. Someone I… know gave me a bouquet recently and I…“

“My,” the old man laughs when Lockwood’s words fail to come through, “You sound awfully shy! Someone you fancy?”

“Well—“ he thinks about it for a second, and the weight of his words lies like a dam in his throat “—I don’t… know?”

“Are you asking, or telling me?” The old man (who Lockwood doesn’t really know what else to call but The Old Man, which is starting to get repetitive) says, rounding the counter to make his way opposite of where Lockwood is lingering. There, a whole shelf of red flowers sits like a still parade, and the old man looks back at Lockwood curiously when he catches him caught on one bouquet.

“Those- um, the red carnations,” He says, making his way over, and gently picking up the red bouquet. The flowers shake and settle in his hands.

The elderly man hums, giving him a terse nod with his eyebrows lifted. He doesn’t say anything as Lockwood fumbles for words, and waits with an amused smirk as he picks up a watering can from the corner and starts on some of the pots.

“…What does it mean when someone gives you red carnations?” Lockwood finally asks, his voice small and his eyes focused on the flowers twirling between his hands.

“My better half used to tell me that they meant pure adoration or true love. Not much different from a red rose then, that lot,” He chuckles, and Lockwood is surprised dust doesn’t burst out of the cough that follows. He sounds worn but content, the old gardener. Lockwood wonders if he still misses them, and aches.

The thought of losing someone after so long frightens him. He doesn’t want to be someone people lose and he doesn’t want to lose anybody else, but there’s just so much love hanging around him. It chokes him sometimes; scares him when he realizes he can lose something— some people. He wonders how any one, even the gardener, can handle it at all.

“Are they not here now?�� Lockwood blurts out before he can catch himself, but the elderly gentleman just shrugs.

“No, but it’s not like that’s surprising,” He chuckles, “I’ll be with them soon, anyhow. These old bones won’t be running around for much longer I tell ya’. No use in waiting to just join them, though. The shop still needs tending, and there are people to love, still.”

Thoughts of Portland Row call to him, an echo of all the people he’s loved and still loves. The house still stands whether or not the people in its walls are still the same, like how this old shop still stands, whether or not how many flowers pass in it. His hands tighten lightly around the pot of the carnations, and in his peripheral he can feel the man watching him patiently.

“When someone gives them to you—” Lockwood says instead, because what can you say to that? “—say, a friend of mine received a bouquet of these from someone they… fancied, what does that mean?”

“I think it means they really like you enough to give you flowers,” The shopkeeper laughs, deepening the wrinkles on his temples. Lockwood hides his smile at that, giddy even if it might not be the answer he had exactly been fishing for.

It takes him another half an hour before he’s found a bouquet fitting to give you. He gets the bouquet for free (the shopkeeper insists), but in return he has to come back after and tell the old shopkeep what happens.

“Good luck on you,” The old man smiles on his way out, “Don’t let those flowers go to waste, you hear me?”

The door to 35 Portland Row clicks open with ease, and you carefully step around the line of shoes near the front to slip yours off. A breeze ruffles you from behind as the door falls shut, and you hang your coat up on the stand. Surprisingly, only Lucy’s coat seems to hang up by yours.

“Lucy?” you call out, feeling your voice echoing about the walls. The main hall of the house is spotlessly clean (all thanks to George) yet the walls feel lived in and old. You can feel the history of the house rumbling in your bones; a welcome wave of nostalgia washing over you.

“In here!” Lucy calls from what sounds like the kitchen, “I’ll come out to meet you in a second! Don’t come in!”

You quickly find a seat in a stray chair out in the hall, and settle down to wait. Lucy pops out not a moment too late, quickly shutting the door behind her. Something about the way she doesn’t look away from you as she shuts the door makes you raise your brow in suspicion.

“Thought you would come by a bit later,” She says, pulling you up from your chair with a guiding hand on your arm.

“Did I stop by too early? I can go, if…” You ask worriedly, checking her over in case she was hurt. She’s dressed casually business-like, and it makes you wonder if you’d interrupted her from something important instead. She shakes her head quickly, a sincere smile finding its way onto her cheeks.

“Just— some gadgets in the kitchen that we’re trying out.” She takes you both up the stairs to the library, going on about some new salt bomb as she wildly gestures with her other hand. You eye her suspiciously; she never does that unless she’s nervous.

“Uhuh… and George and Anthony?” You ask playfully, stopping by the doorway of the library. She teeters on the balls of her feet in front of the bookshelf.

“At Satchell’s,” She says easily. Too easily. “How are you and Lockwood?”

Ah, you finally get it. “Did he get himself into trouble again? You don’t have to cover for Anthony, Luce.”

When she quickly shakes her head, you feel a little more confused and suspicious. She pulls an old book out of the shelves, and throws it open, pretending to read it.

“Just… wondering. Can’t a girl just ask her friend how they and their other friend who they’re totally not in love with, are doing?” She hums, flipping a page as she glances at you from the corner of her eye. Her words hit you with a resounding strike, but you manage to keep steady.

“We’re… fine.” You look away from her, which was a mistake because she catches the way you tuck your lips in, and her grin grows teasing.

“Fine? You gave him flowers!” She says, incredulously. When you snap your head her way to protest, she holds a hand up and starts listing all the things you and Lockwood do together that just don’t make sense for ‘fine’.

“…I’m pretty sure you guys pretend to be mad at each other just so you can stare at each other and call it glaring— which, the only thing glaring thing there is the glaringly obvious fact you are ogling each other—“ She takes a breath, all but dumping herself onto a chair, and you take it as a chance to interrupt her.

“Who even says ogling anymore—“

“You are ogling at each other. Face it.” She levels with you, glaring at you through her lashes.

You shuffle your feet for a second under where you’re sat across from her, and you huff in something close to defeat. You bury your head in your hands and refuse to look up. She softly whispers your name and reaches out to pat your shoulder.

“What if… he doesn’t like me back though? I don’t want to ruin all that just for my silly feelings, Luce. I can’t lose him like that.” You meant for it to be playful, but it comes out self-deprecating and quiet. Lucy hums thoughtfully, and you hear the note of it turn a bit sombre.

“Gross as you guys are, I think it’s sweet that you have each other— that you’ve always had each other. It can be easy to lose something like that, and it hurts like hell when you do, but… I don’t think that would happen so easily to you two. I mean, with how long you’ve both been dealing with each other, it’d be mental to let this be the end of it.” Her eyes are glazed over when you peek up; her hand still on your shoulder. You pull her hand into yours and give it a squeeze.

“You’ll be ok, no matter what happens,” she whispers like a secret. You wonder if it is one; if it’s a secret like the cassette tapes she sends home and the flowers you give to Lockwood. You wonder if they were really that much different at all.

“Thanks, Luce,” is all you can say, as you pull each other into a hug that squeezes at the doubts and the fears and the worries.

“You know, George, this makes me think you actually care about me,” Lockwood chirps, walking backwards as George scowls at him from behind a big hefty bag of supplies.

Curfew’s soon to set in, and George is not keen on wasting anything they could save for a case by being tardy of all things. So he scowls at Lockwood, even though he’s endlessly amused.

“Did you hit your head hard enough to finally start hallucinating?” Is all he replies, huffing as he bounces the bag in his arms. Lockwood’s got one full bag, too, but he’s strutting along like it doesn’t bug him. He should have made him take the heavier bag, George thinks.

“You came to fetch me when I took too long—“

“Cause you were taking too long, dickhead!” George feels a smile slip onto his face, and Lockwood beams. They’ve rounded the corner before they spot the house’s porch lights, the route familiar to George.

“I was already at the door when you opened it!” Lockwood argues, spinning forward and slinging the bag about.

“With flowers, Lockwood. You went out to get supplies and came back with flowers—“ George froze as they came up to the house. In one of the higher windows of the townhouse, he can spot two silhouettes in the window laughing about. “Lockwood.”

“It slipped my mind! Besides, we ended up getting the supplies anyway and having a nice little adventure, yeah?” Lockwood goes on, still walking up to the house without a clue in the world.

“Lockwood, stop walking,” George hisses a bit louder, trying to catch up.

“It’s been a while since we’ve had an adventure with us two, if I remember correctly. Last time was… that case, with Ms. Whittle? Luckily Lucy’s still there to make sure they haven’t seen the flowers yet just in case they stop by early,” Lockwood says, still completely unaware.

“Yes, but— Lockwood,” George whisper-yells, finally catching his attention, “They’re already here!”

Now, George Karim is a sensible and (in his very right opinion) incredibly patient person, but it still took everything in his power not to strangle Lockwood when he begins to panic-walk to the front door, rambling the whole way. Sometimes it helps to have had siblings, just so they can train you for moments like these and your head doesn’t go flying at how frustrating people can just be.

The things George does for his friends, he’s glad someone can tolerate Lockwood’s scatter- brained attitude enough like you can. He finds it endearing how much you both go stupid about one another, and just hopes one day you both level out, or else he’s going to go absolutely mental.

A/N: There’s an almost completely written version of this where Lockwood was 100x sillier and miscommunication ensues, but my instinct just told me not to post it. Instead, I got sappy, and you all get this. I wrote the other version mind you, and almost completed it, the same night I started and finished my George x reader fic, so I was honestly a little proud of it. Took a bit to the ego when I realised I could absolutely go about it in a more satisfying manner, but I’m glad I went and took the plunge

Also @tangledinlove asked me to tag her in case I wrote a part 2 so here you go!! Hope it isn’t too bad of a sequel!! Though I did write this mostly sleepy…

#anthony lockwood x reader #lockwood x reader #lockwood and co x reader #anthony lockwood x you #lockwood x you #Portie writes fanfic

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oarf1sh · 8 months ago

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Something I did for cringetober last year, ft. a conveniently cropped hand so I don't have to figure out how people hold scissors lawl.

Yandere because if you squint it's scissorloid fanart.

#hatsune miku #vocaloid #fanart #hatsune miku fanart #digital art #art #cringetober #vocaloid fanart #miku #yandere #my art

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cheralith · 2 months ago

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vogue (masterlist) — boss/fashion designer!geto suguru x reader

series synopsis ; even without much knowledge in the world of fashion, you decide that it's in your best interest to work for the country's fashion magazine powerhouse to propel your career as a journalist. however, you begin to second-guess your decision when you're faced with the grueling labor of its one and only editor-in-chief who expects nothing less of perfection. can your efficiency meet his standards or will you be out the door before you can even blink?

content tags/warnings ; gn!reader, use of they/them pronouns in ch1 (as of 12/26), she/her pronouns from ch2 and beyond, mild language, afab!reader, traditional japanese basis of (l/n) (f/n) used, reader wears glasses, makeup, and feminine clothing, some mild manga and jjk 0 spoilers (three minor characters from each are introduced), uhhh suguru being an asshole lawl, some parts not edited/not beta read,

contains ; editor-in-chief!geto, fashion designer!geto, assistant!reader, assistant turned muse!reader, platonic roommate!ino, modern au, angst, slowburn, co-workers-to-lovers, some crack if you squint, geto is a dick lawl

current word count: 19.1k (as of 12/26)

chapter one ; suddenly i see

chapter two ; reasons

chapter three ; tba...

chapter four ; tba...

chapter five; tba...

chapter six ; tba...

chapter seven ; tba...

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vampsickle · 2 years ago

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on a leash. ☆ ( dmc4 ) dante

☆ tags - use of petnames, degradation if you squint, petplay? idk.. no plot at all. its just p*rn lol, u grind on his boot lawl, yea... afab reader but there's no use of fem pronouns.

☆ wc - 416

☆ a/n - finally doing the requests i got ^_^ anyway, i just thought this kinda.. fit dante tbh. 4dante bc hes a damn pervy freak !! anyway, i'll probably keep these a little short n simple bc i can't be damned to go over 1k words for this. anywayyyyy..

☆ synopsis - dante puts you on a leash and decides to mess around with you, just for his own amusement.

The collar that had been placed on your neck was ruby red, small spikes encircled around the entire piece of leather. Dante tugs on the leash, pulling you closer, that same smug smile on his face. He’s clearly getting off to this, seeing you on your knees, so obedient. His cock is out and he slowly strokes himself, chewing on his lip, white hair has fallen over his eyes. Every time you try to lean in closer, just close enough that you can put your mouth on him, he pushes you away. You whine every time, your pussy pulsating with need, and your thighs burn. You’re hovering over his boot, the slick from your heat running down your thighs and dripping onto the leather.

His eyes glimmer with amusement, swiping his thumb over his tip and collecting the pre-come that’s leaked out, his heart racing just as fast as yours.

“I haven’t even touched you and you’re already wet.”

Your breath hitches in your throat and you tentatively lift your head to meet his searing gaze, eyes watering, yet your entire body tingles with desire.

“Please, Dante.. I can’t— I can’t take it anymore,”

Dante lifts his boot, the cool feeling against your core makes you jolt, and you cry out. Your body was so hot, it was so painful, and that one touch was almost enough to make you cum. He continues to rub the tip of his boot against your folds, and your face falls forward onto his thigh, practically drooling on him. Just like a dog.

“Such a good puppy.. If you need it so bad, then you can get off on my thigh, baby.”

Tears roll down your flushed cheeks, as your eyes squeeze shut, and you begin to move your hips on his shoe. Dante pumps himself in time with the swaying of your hips on his boot, his breath quickening, cock twitching in his hand.

“That’s it, baby.. That’s how bad you want it, huh? That you’d get off on my boot? Damn—“

You nod frantically, sobbing and crying out his name, now moving faster. He groans, grabbing your bicep hard enough to bruise, pulling you up so you’re face to face with him. Calloused hands move to your hips, and he moves you so you hover over his cock. Dante’s eager as well, his patience has worn thin, and he couldn’t just let you cum on his boot. You deserve better than that.

“Goddamn.. I’m going to ruin you.”

#short n 2 the point...#dante x reader #dante dmc smut #dmc smut #dmc4 smut #dante smut #dmc x reader #dmc x reader smut #writing tag

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a-simp-20 · 3 years ago

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HII LLIA (idk if i spelled it right lawl) but can i request niragi doing ur eyeliner and picking out ur fits for the day?? THIS HAS BEEN STUCK IN MY HEAD FOR DAYS tysm :DD

🧥=Dress up & Makeup=💄[NIRAGI X FEM!READER] [Pre borderland AU]

AIB Masterlist

Characters: Niragi Suguru, Y/n.

Summary: Your Boyfriend Niragi decided to help you get ready for the day <3

Warning!: none

Genre: Fluff,Crack

Word count: none (too lazy :'V)

Tags: @theyluvmegan <3

Note: "IT'S ALRIGHT IF YOU SPELLED IT WRONG, BUT IT'S I-L-A, ALSO HOPE YOU ENJOY~!"

Enjoy~♡

Niragi woke up with the sound of drawers being opened and shutted. The sound of a Wardrobe being open and shutted as well as rustling.

He opens his eyes and looks at the other side of the bed to see you not there but standing in the middle of the room with a black over sized shirt and some white shorts, as you lift up two pieces of clothing that are still in there hangers "Which one..maybe this one? No- this!..nope not that one.." He heard you muttered as he got up from his bed and stood right behind you as he hugged you "What the heck are you doing..it's 6 in the morning.." "Niragi I have no time for this! Today I have a meeting and I don't know which clothes are formal or not!" You say as you wiggle away from his touch and put the two clothes away inside your wardrobe again.

Niragi sat on the edge of the bed looking at you, squinting his eyes "Maybe I can help you?" He asked you paised on what you were doing "Are you sure?..like, do you know anything about formal attire?" You asked him tilting your head a bit "Oh please, when I was a kid I used to go to family dinner wearing something formal and being fancy and stuff" He says getting up and looking through your closet to find something that would fit you. You just stood there watching him choose things for you "Too sexy" He mutters putting it back "Too..cheerful" "Too tight" "Too emo" "Too black" You watch him pit your dresses and clothes back in and back out again as he chooses patiently, looking for the best outfit that say's 'formal meeting' "Perfect" You looked up to see him holding a light blue dress with long sleeves and a pattern of flowers on them. The dress ends to your knees-

(you know what? I'll just give you the image on what it looks like even thought it's a bit cringe of me to add a photo here -ila)

(There! It looks like that! But light blue..OKAY BACK TO THE STORY-)

"I didn't know I had that dress-" You said to your self as you stood up and grabbed it from his hands and went in the bathroom to change. After that you walked back out admiring yourself on the mirror "You look beautiful love" He says as he hugs you from behind, putting his head on your shoulder, grazing he lips against your neck "Thank you..NOW I MUST GO! Oh I forgot that I have to bring you with me too!" You said, as you got out of his touch and sat on the chair that was in front of the mirror and desk "Welp, okay I'll be ready in a sec..where is this meeting anyway?" "It's at Fendi's Cafe! The most popular brand of bags!" You said as you put on some lipstick/lip gloss "Okay" He says and got into the bathroom to take a quick shower.

You put on some heels and a necklace-let'sbe honest that you hate and love heels at the same time- but it's okay since you di have to attend a formal meeting at a fancam restaurant!. You got out of the bedroom to the living room waiting for Niragi to finish.

He got down wearing a suit "Good now lets go! We have to go!-" "Okay okay! Just calm down!, lemme just" He goes in front of you and kisses the tip of your nose "Okay i'm done now"

(I'm sorry that this is short! My mind is empty right now HELP! -)

#alice in borderland #niragi suguru #suguru niragi #niragi suguru x reader #niragi x y/n #niragi suguru fluff #alice in borderland fanfic

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bunnimew · 4 years ago

Text

Not Much for a Soul

Rating: T Fandom: Rise of the Guardians Relationship: Jack Frost/Pitch Black Tags: Demon AU, Humor, Fluff, Consent issues dragged out into the light lawl, Kind of a meetcute if you tilt your head and squint a little Summary: For RotG Halloween 2020: Day 6 @rotg-halloween

A flat bike tire changes Pitch's future.

On AO3 here.

This route was a lot less terrifying on a bike.

The traffic was too far away. Pitch never usually had that thought, but tonight, limited to the speed and resilience of his own two feet, the sounds of life were muffled and distant. He felt that if something happened to him here, no one would arrive in time. No one might even hear him.

The buildings on either side of the street were tall and dark, closed and locked for the night. Nobody here had worked as late as Pitch had. None of them had stayed late enough to be sentry for his safe passage.

He was being dramatic.

Nothing was going to happen. If there was nobody here, the way it looked and sounded, then there was no one here to help him nor hurt him. He just had to get home.

Pitch reset his grip on the handlebars and decided not to think about it anymore. He would need to get the tire replaced in the morning; he didn’t want to walk this path at night again if he didn’t have to.

“Nice bike.”

Pitch damn near jumped out of his skin. It was his own fault. He’d hyped up the desertion of the street and the creepiness of the quiet all by himself. If he was afraid of the lone, thin teen standing under the streetlight who looked like he might weigh a hundred pounds soaking wet, he did it to himself.

What was this kid doing out here, anyway?

“Thanks.” The reply was automatic. Compliment? Thanks. “Can I help you?”

“Oooh,” the teen smiled. “Accent. I like it.”

Pitch wished he hadn’t stopped, because now it would be rude to keep walking.

“You don’t seem lost.”

The teen shook his head. “Nah, I’m right where I want to be.”

Pitch thought as much. He gestured in the direction he’d been walking. “Then, if you don’t mind…”

He didn’t manage a full step before the teen spoke again. “Maybe you can still help me.”

Pitch swallowed, irritated, and put his foot back down. Manners were a curse. “With?”

“I’m Jack,” he said, and tilted his head forward charmingly with a smile to match, “and I’m looking for some souls. May I have yours?”

Pitch couldn’t help it. He snorted a laugh.

“I know, it sounds stupid—”

“That’s the worst pick-up line I’ve ever heard.”

“It is pretty bad, isn’t it?” Jack’s nose wrinkled in distaste, but his smile didn’t go anywhere. “What’s your name?”

“Pitch.” He nodded. “But I’m not really looking to date, right now, so…”

He was stopped again. “Not even a pretty little thing like me?” Jack batted his blue eyes at him and tilted his face at an alluring angle. It was an impressively self-aware display.

And Pitch had to admit, those eyes were quite pretty. Combined with his pale, dishevelled hair and rounded chin, the man was striking. And maybe he wasn’t as young as Pitch originally thought; he’d never met someone under the age of twenty this smooth. Smooth didn’t mean trustworthy, though. “I don’t even know you.”

“You know I’m looking for souls,” Jack insisted with bright eyes and a convincing grin.

Pitch snorted again. “Does that line ever work?”

“Surprisingly high success rate.”

Pitch shook his head, but there was a laugh on his lips. Disbelieving maybe, but a laugh all the same. “You’re on an awfully deserted street if you’re looking for people.”

Jack’s grin changed. It was small, but Pitch could swear it was… devilish, now. “I found one,” he pointed out.

Which, Pitch shrugged a shoulder, “I’ll give you that.”

Jack splayed his hands and despite all the smiles, all the posing, now was the most salesman-like he’d seemed all night. “So what do you want for it?”

Pitch furrowed his brows. Had he missed something? “What do you mean?”

“Say I was a demon,” Jack said, moving his hands and shoulders in overly casual ways that made Pitch pay extra attention to them, to what they could be hiding, “Say I was actually looking for souls. Would you sell me yours?”

That was maybe the oddest question Pitch had ever been asked. He wondered why he wasn’t saying no. “I suppose that depends. What are you offering?”

Jack laughed. It wasn’t the sleazy laugh of a dealmaker or the forced laugh of marketing. He sounded delighted. “Care and affection?”

Pitch considered it, but only for a second. “That doesn’t seem like much for a soul.”

“It’s really not.” Jack shook his head, and Pitch got the impression he was having the time of his life with this.

Pitch suddenly realized he was still clutching his bike, standing on a deserted street in his work clothes, talking to a man barely out of college about selling souls. He blinked, and said the words before he thought more about it. “This is an odd conversation to be having this time of night in a place like this.”

Jack shrugged and leaned back against the light pole behind him. The yellow cone made it hard for Pitch to say whether his hair was actually white or a pale blond, and it washed out the blue in his eyes. “How about love?”

Pitch blinked again and told himself to stop looking so hard at Jack. They were having a conversation, still, apparently. “I’m sorry, what?”

“If I promised to love you,” Jack said, with a patience and exactness that made his words sound much more serious than this hypothetical conversation probably deserved, “would you sell me your soul for that?”

Pitch tilted his head curiously. “Wouldn’t you already have it?”

Jack’s smile was so much more gentle now. “That would be if you,” he pointed at Pitch, then himself. “Loved me.”

Pitch took a second, but conceded. “So it would.”

“If anything,” Jack continued, “it would be like you owned my soul.”

Pitch shifted his weight and released the handle of his bike to set that hand on his hip. If every romance novel ever written was to be believed, then that was not untrue. Many questions sprang to Pitch’s mind. “Is this a line you usually use to pick people up?”

Jack barked a surprised laugh. “You know, actually, I’ve never tried it quite like this before.”

Pitch wasn’t sure he believed that. “Why would you purchase a soul just to give yours back?”

“Well, because I wouldn’t actually be giving mine, since I don’t really have one to give, but also,” Jack’s eyes had rolled up as he thought, his arms sort of half-crossed, half-gesturing as he worked through the logic. It was kind of endearing. “‘Cause it would be nice, right? Being in love? Loving someone and knowing they wouldn’t leave you?”

Pitch supposed he could see the appeal, put like that. It was a little bit psychotic and a lotta bit problematic, but alright, in a fantasy sort-of assumed consent kind of way, loving someone and knowing they wouldn’t leave you was nice. “But can you love if you’re missing your soul?”

Jack bit his lip, looking very pleased. “You sure can.”

“You sound very confident,” Pitch mused. This whole conversation was very strange. To imagine Pitch wouldn’t be having it if he’d missed that nail. “So if I sell you my soul, you’ll promise to love me forever?”

“Well, as long as you live,” Jack said. He seemed wholly unconcerned about that. “And you’d have to wait ten years, of course. Soul contracts always come with a grace period before they start.”

“Oh, of course.” Pitch pressed his hand to his chest dramatically. “I never meant to rush. How could I forget that deals with demons have a decade delay? How foolish of me.”

Jack’s smile widened and he pushed away from the streetlight. “I really like you.”

Pitch was flattered and a little bit shocked. His hand drifted down from his chest. “After only one conversation?”

Jack shrugged carelessly. “Sometimes you just know.”

His steps didn’t stop. Pitch wasn’t sure what to do, but with his bike to steady, he couldn’t exactly retreat. Or, at least, not without being terribly obvious about it.

“Sometimes you’re wrong.”

“Yeah,” Jack breathed, now close enough that he didn’t have to speak at full volume for Pitch to hear him. He finally stopped at a very polite, but very forward, distance. Pitch wasn’t sure what to do. “But I don’t think I am.”

“You don’t even know me.”

Jack’s smile looked so very pleased.

“So just to recap,” he said, and Pitch was sure from his expression, from his body language, that he was having so much fun with this, “If I promise to love you, with all my heart, ten years from now of course.”

Pitch found himself muttering, “Of course,” but he didn’t know why.

“Then you’ll give me your soul?”

He wasn’t sure why this needed a recap. It was all hypothetical, wasn’t it? There was no way Jack was actually going to love him in ten years, especially not if they didn’t… see each other between then and now. But those were the terms they had discussed, weren’t they?

“I suppose I’m not doing anything with it.”

Jack laughed, but he was shaking his head. And moving forward again. “Good answer, but that’s not how contracts work. You have to say yes.” Jack looked up and met his eyes very intently. “Or, you know, ‘I do.’”

“I do?”

Jack nodded. “You do.”

Pitch wasn’t sure why he was saying anything at all, but Jack was very close now and Pitch… wanted to. “Yes.”

“Excellent.”

Pitch gasped. Cold fingers pressed against the side of his face, and he wondered when Jack’s hand had gotten that close. His palm tilted Pitch’s face, and now he knew what Jack wanted. What he wanted, too, if he was honest. It was a silly deal to make, there was no way it was real, but it seemed real, and this felt real, and Jack really didn’t seem all that young, anymore.

Pitch’s hand found its way to Jack’s waist, thin and solid, and that was all the grounding he needed to make a decision, to lean down and take Jack’s lips with his.

It was a chaste kiss, tentative, very unsure, but lingering, and sweet. So sweet, light, like a first love or a New Year’s promise. It filled his chest and made it hard to breathe, and Pitch hadn’t shared a kiss like that in… a while.

Jack, the nymph, licked his lips once then pulled away. It was a terrible tease, but since Pitch wasn’t sure what had come over him in the first place, it was probably best it stay that way. He wasn’t in the habit of kissing strangers on the street and yet, here he was.

“See you in ten years, then,” Jack said as he drifted out of Pitch’s hold. He waved, a flirty little flip of his hand, then started down the street and into the darkness.

Pitch shook himself. Wait, what? “You’re joking?” He wasn’t serious. He was leaving?

“Oh no,” Jack turned back with a secret smile. “We sealed it with a kiss. That means it’s a deal.” He closed one eye in a slow, seductive wink, and only then did Pitch notice the unnatural glow in his bright, blue eyes. They were lit from within by a cold burning fire. Under the streetlight, he never could have guessed. But out in the dark... Jack looked otherworldly. “Your soul is mine, Sweetheart.”

Jack…

Had he really been a demon all along?

“Don’t get too old,” Jack said. He spun slowly on his feet and continued along the street. “I like ‘em spry.” His laugh echoed between buildings on the deserted street. “But I’ve got a good feeling about you. I might even already love you.”

He was insane, surely. Pitch gaped as he watched Jack simply leave him behind after all of that, but between one shadow and the next, he was gone, and there was nothing left to watch.

Pitch wondered what that meant for his soul.

#thebunni #rotghalloween2020 #blackice rotg #blackicerotg #jack frost #pitch black #rise of the guardians #DEMON AU

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hazeism · 5 years ago

Link

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: One Piece Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Eustass Kid & Killer, Eustass Kid/Killer Characters: Eustass Kid, Killer (One Piece), Kid Pirates (One Piece) Additional Tags: This one's weird. Buckle in., Character Study, Blood and Injury, Healing, Something about Kid losing his arm lawl. Aftermath., 3D2Y (One Piece), Whump, Trust, Little bit of possessive behavior whoops., Romance if you squint., Mild Gore, Hurt/Comfort, Canon Compliant Summary:

(We dare not mourn our past lives, our loss will be reborn.) (Sew your skeleton to mine, I'm no good on my own.)

There's blood coming from his eye but he doesn't scream, just this wheezy half-cough that nosedives into a cackle, deranged and pitchy.

#I like this one actually lol. Read dis one asjhgvdjb.#one piece #queue #prose #text #1k-3k #eustass kid #killer (one piece)#kidkiller #sorry my upload schedule has been a dumpsterfire EVERYWHERE lol

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a-v-j · 6 years ago

Photo

I think I had improved a bit on actions scene, all I need to learn more about are the angles XD XD On the last part, Error was supposed to say "I am a mistake, whaddya expect, its in my nature", hence why Geno gave him a disapproving squint on the next page, but it doesnt seem to fit in with the situation so I scratched that line out AHHH!!!

FINALLY, IM DONE WITH MY MOESUBCOMIC:ERROR VS GENO!!!!!!! LawL, Geno should have won if Frisk didnt interrupt XD XD Many had been questioning about the mystery of Frisk's whereabouts both in Fatal_Error has occured comic and Margin of Error so I give you my own idea XDXD Error "killed" Frisk during his encounter with Geno XD Undertale (c) TobyFox Geno!Sans & Error!Sans (c) TheCrayonQueen Comic is inspired from Fatal_Error has Occurred comic and AfterTale comic Next

#margin of error subcomic #moesubcomic #moesubcomic errorvsgeno

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solarmason-blog · 8 years ago

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came back to me | sebson

WHO: Mason McCarthy & Sebastian Smythe, ft Sabia WHAT: Reunited and it feels so good. WHERE: Outside Mason & Spencer’s room, a student lounge, Sebastian’s room in Notos. WHEN: Wednesday, 2/1, about 1 AM. WARNINGS: Brief mention of disturbing imagery, mention of Elliott’s attack (& the events that followed).

Sebastian was incredibly edgy. He'd flown through the night, left on the earliest flight permitted. He'd had to make promises to his father-- lies, about no longer visiting the McCarthy Compound and "straightening up" his Bloodline Act. But what mattered was that he was home. Well, not his home, per se, but Campus. NYADA. Mason. He stared at Mason's door, hands shaking. What was he going to say? An apology didn't seem to truly explain nearly a month's absence. He was so aetherdamn tired that he didn't have the energy to worry passed being able to raise his hand to knock on the door. Maybe things would be different now. Maybe Mason wouldn't be happy to see him. Or maybe things would be okay. He supposed he wouldn't know until he knocked on the fucking door. Why was such a simple motion so hard? He raised his hand and rapped twice, lightly. "Mase?" It was one AM here. He'd left Paris at midnight. But it was one AM here. What part of him said it was logical to bang down Mason's door at this hour? Mason started awake at the sound at his door - maybe just a drunk neighbor at the wrong room, but then, no, his name. Mason frowned, squinted at the time, then squinted at Sabia, who was not asleep but was definitely doing a great job pretending to be. "Some familiar you are. Could be a murderer, 'n' you don't even care," Sabia flicked he ear at him and with once more glance to completely-conked out Spencer, Mason kicked his covers off. He wasn't worried about it being a murderer - even in his mostly asleep state, he was worried that it was a friend or his sister in trouble, needing his help. What other reason was there to knock on someone's door at one-oh-three in the morning? Mason rubbed his face as he made his way to the door - he kicked something on the way, and thus it was his dully aching pinky toe that was on his mind as he opened the door. And saw Sebastian. Mason blinked. Rubbed his eyes again. Okay, so he was still dreaming. He had to be. Mason squinted at him sleepily. "Am I still asleep? 'Re you gonna grow bunny ears and hop away? Or get killed while I stand here helplessly again?" Mason yawned; his subconscious needed new material. Sebastian waited anxiously, hand moving up to grip the door frame as he heard movement inside. What was he going to be greeted with? But Mason... had no reaction. "Again?" he asked softly, confused. "Mase... babe? You're not dreaming. I'm back. I'm home." He watched as Mason yawned. Biting his lip, Sebastian reached out, touching Mason's hand gently. Would the physical touch help to make him realize he's not dreaming? That he's very, incredibly awake?

Mason frowned. "Look, if this is an illusion or some shit--" Mason started, eyes going wide as Sebastian took his hand. As Sebastian took. Sebastian. Every inch of Mason's body was suddenly awake and Mason only had time to look from their hands to his face before he launched forward to hug him so hard they nearly knocked into the wall on the other side of the hallway. "WherethehellhaveyoubeenareyoubackforrealImissedyousomuchwhatthehell--" Sabia, properly awakened by the sudden shift in Mason's mood, emerged at the door to Mason's room. She studied the scene and gave a soft little woof, her tongue lawling out of her mouth. It served as a reminder that there were other things happening--like a sleeping roommate, for one, and and sleepng hall for another, but Mason was too happy to care. Too happy to care about that, about the fact that he hadn't even bothered to grab a shirt, too happy to care about anything other than the fact that Sebastian was there. Still, he stepped back and took Sebastian's face in both hands, studying him intently. "Where the blazes have you been, Sebastian? You look awful. " But Mason was still grinning, because Sebastian was back, Sebastian was home, Sebastian was here. Sebastian had a good explanation for everything, and Mason could finally catch a break. Sebastian arched a brow as Mason cursed-- what the fuck was that? But he seemed to truly wake up then, stumbling back as Mason lunged at him, thankfully catching him before the hit the wall. His hands met bare skin, every inch of him heating up as he took in the sight. He flushed as Mason held his face, biting his lip nervously. "It's a long story." He chuckled a bit, adding, "And gee, thanks. I've been on a plane for seven hours." Seven hours to think about how this was going to go. He'd been too nervous to portal... it wouldn't have given him time to prepare. "I've missed you so much," he whispered, pulling Mason closer to him again and wrapping him in another hug. "I'm so fucking sorry I've been gone."

Mason laughed weakly and hugged him back, burying his face against Sebastian's neck. His brain was caught in a loop: Sebastian'sbackSebastian'sbackSebastian'sbackSebastian'sback and he couldn't even begin to think about what was seven hours away that Sebastian would be coming back from. He wanted to be angry - he had been angry, and sad, and worried and lonely and just about every other emotion possible relating to a sudden disappearance of one's best friend, but the relief made them all take a back seat. Sebastian's back. "You're back," Mason mumbled, eyes still shut tight. "If this is another dream I'm going to be so mad," Mason laughed weakly and pulled back, only so he could keep looking at him, like if he took is eyes or hands off him he might disappear again. "Where were you? I thought I wasn't ever--I thought you--" Mason shook his head sharply. "I missed you so much, Seb, and now you're just--you've missed so much and--Aether on ice skates," Mason let out a wet laugh and shook his head. He released Sebastian only long enough to shut his door - with Sabia on their side, who went over and nosed at Sebastian's hand, chewing it lightly in greeting - before he held out his hand to Sebastian. "Let's go find somewhere to talk. Holy Aether, you're back. "

Sebastian laughed, shaking his head. "Babe, I promise. You're not dreaming. I'm here." He wanted to ask why and what Mason had been dreaming of if it had to do with him... but he didn't think now was the time. Mason hit him with question after question that he didn't have time to answer before the next one fired. He smiled down to Sabia and she toyed with his hand and gave her a light scratch behind the ears. He looked to Mason's hand and smiled, fitting his own into it. It felt so damn right to be back, to be close, to have Mason with him once more. He followed Mason along, not sure where they were headed, but as they wandered down the hall, he dropped Mason's hand only long enough to tug off his lacrosse sweatshirt. "Here," he said, handing it over. "You have to be freezing."

"What? Oh," Mason looked down at his bare chest and blushed brightly, all the way from his cheeks down his neck to his collarbones, all of which where very entirely visible because who cared about clothes or climate concerns when Sebastian's back? Mason took the sweatshirt and pulled it over his head; it fit and it was warm and it smelled like Sebastian and something else that Mason figured was probably plane, but Mason didn't care about that, either - it was like getting a permanent, fuzzy hug from one of his favorite people in the world. "This is mine now," Mason decided, looking back at Sebastian with a wide grin. "So I have something to remember you by next time you freaking disappear on me!" Mason punctuated the sentence with light fist taps to Sebastian's shoulder - in the second-worst case scenario in Mason's mind, Sebastian had deserved far worse. But he didn't, so Mason pulled the sleeves over his fingers before he linked arms with Sebastian. Aether and Ancients. "You're here," Mason said, smile still in place, as he led them to the floor's lounge. He pulled Sebastian to the couch and sat them down on it, then continued, "but you weren't before? You weren't just seriously avoiding me for reasons I hadn't figured out?" Unasked went the questions that had been turning over in Mason's mind: you don't hate me? We're still friends? You didn't get eaten by a manticore?

Sebastian smiled, liking the idea of Mason laying claim to his sweatshirt. "Works for me," he smiled, shrugging. He sighed softly shaking his head. "I'm not going anywhere. Not again." He flopped on the couch with Mason easily, pulling him into his side and wrapping an arm around his shoulders. He shook his head, sighing softly. "Mase, come on. You know that's not me. Why would I avoid you? I've missed you like all hell, come on." He moved his head to press a kiss to Mason's temple. "My father sort of... didn't like my visiting the compound. He thought a few weeks with family in Paris would do me well. I wasn't permitted any contact. I didn't mean to worry you, Mason."

Mason let himself be tugged; he was picking at the corners of the sweatshirt until Sabia jumped up onto the couch and laid bodily on top of him and demanded that her ears be scratched, and it was just him, and Sabia, and Sebastian. "It's harder to know what is and isn't someone when the someone isn't there," Mason murmured, accepting the templekiss but going very still as Sebastian continued to speak. "Wait. Wait, hold on." Mason sat up slightly, earning an indignant yip from Sabia (who had just gotten comfortable again, thank you) as he turned to look back at Sebastian. "You--this is because of me? Because--because you came home with me?" So it was his fault. Mason stared at him beseechingly, hoping that this was a joke somehow, but Mason could see that it was not. He had been prepared for retribution from the Fabrays, had been waiting for Quinn's wonderful little vacation to come with a higher price than it had, but this...this was Sebastian. It was so easy, sometimes, to forget that he wasn't just Seb, wasn't just Mason's best friend, that he was Sebastian Smythe, that that meant things to people. "Aethergod, I'm so--I'm so sorry. " Mason shifted to be sitting up on his own, resting his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. It wasn't fair. Mason knew, distantly, in that objective way he looked at his own life when it was falling apart, that he should've known better -- that he should've considered the consequences. Okay, he thought to the universe, I get it. He took a breath and kept his eyes closed for another moment. Another person hurt because of Mason's whims. They'd taken Sebastian from him and he hadn't even known, nevermind known why. Sabia whined and wriggled in through the gap between his arm and his face, aggressively licking him until he had to pull back and wrap his arms around her. He still couldn't look at Sebastian, because how could he, when the evidence of time spent with his family was so visible, when two minutes ago Mason hadn't felt anything except stupid blissful joy and now that was gone because he thought he could have everything. When the hell was he going to learn that was never going to be true?

Sebastian’s eyebrows knitted together, shaking his head. "Mason..." he groaned softly as Mason pulled away, curling in on himself until Sabia nudged her way through. "Hey, no. You see him all the time. I just got back." He realized Sabia didn't understand him after he spoke, but it was too late now. "Mason Larch, don't you dare internalize the bullshit that my father pulled. It had nothing..." that wasn't true. It did have to do with Mason, but... "it was my fault, not yours. Please... babe, hey. Please." He nudged his way passed the wolf, reaching over to turn Mason's face toward him as he leaned closer. "Just stop. Mason, please. I can't... I can't deal with you blaming yourself for this because it wasn't you. Just... please."

Mason looked back at him sharply, a dozen retorts ready on his lips, but it was the 'please' that killed them, coupled with the look on his face. "Fine," Mason said, pushing him to lay back down as he had been before, so Mason could take his spot back - he rested his head on Sebastian's chest and wrapped his arm around his waist and did his very best to keep his mind present, to keep from 'blaming himself' - at least for right now, at least while Sebastian was there with him. He tightened his grip. He's mine, Mason thought, jaw tightening. You can't have him, Thomas Smythe. He allowed himself one moment of irresponsible and pointless anger, and then set it aside, along with every single other thing he hadn't been dealing all that well with. "It's nobody's fu--nobody's fault," Mason huffed finally. Sabia nestled back against him, ears flat against her head - she was privy to his mind, to his emotions; he would've pet her, reassured her, but Sebastian had been gone because of him, and Mason wasn't quite ready to make anybody else feel better yet. He stayed quiet, willing himself to listen to Sebastian's heartbeat, to take stock of the fact that whatever the reason for the absence, he was back now. "I'm sorry you got in trouble," Mason finally said, voice quiet and something more like his usual tone, if very very quiet. "Was it as awful as I'm imagining?"

Sebastian let Mason press him back down and he relaxed a bit, hand absent mindedly running through Mason's hair as he did. He could very nearly feel the possessiveness in the way he held him close. "I didn't get in trouble," he said, not even sure he believed himself. But he wasn't a child, after all. He'd like to think only children got in trouble. "Well, it was my mother's side of the family, so it wasn't completely terrible. They're all very dramatic and needy, but it's better than being stuck with the Smythes any day. They're all just thirsty to climb the ranks and obsessed with being model little Bloodlines. I think he hoped they would knock some sense into me." Sebastian pressed another kiss to Mason's forehead, sighing. "How have you been, babe?"

"Awful," Mason muttered, too tired and emotionally whiplashed to keep anything but the truth from coming out. "There's--I think I got in enough trouble for the both of us," Mason admitted with a heavy sigh, settling against him. "But...I'm glad it wasn't...I'm glad it wasn't so bad for you," Mason added, a little softer, peeking back up at him. "Did they? Knock sense into you, I mean?" Mason smiled a little, half-teasing. "Did the make you pass some Bloodline Approval test before you came home?"

Sebastian’s heart fell as Mason spoke. "What happened?" he asked, tone cautious and slow. When Mason asked if they'd managed to knock some sense into him, he snorted. "'Course not, babe. You know better than that." He looked down to Mason, giving him a little half smile. "I think the school only excused me for three weeks. I certainly didn't pass any test. I told a lot of lies, but that's about it." Sebastian kept carding his fingers gently through Mason's hair as he spoke. "But seriously, Mase, what's been going on? What do you mean that you got in trouble?"

"I did something dumb," Mason admitted with a sigh, relaxing in spite of himself at the feel of Sebastian's fingers in his hair. "Well. Madison did something dumb and I--helped." He sighed again; he didn't want to tell Sebastian, but given that the past three weeks had been overwhelmed with the burning desire just to talk to him, he didn't feel like he had much of a choice. "Madison has a Watch Eye, for the next three months," Mason explained quietly, back to fidgeting with the hem of the sweatshirt. "Because she--we--tried to..." Mason trailed off and closed his eyes. "We tried to help." Mason looked back at Sebastian. "Do you remember...um, okay, jeeze. I don't know if now's the best time, 'cause you just got back and you were on the plane for seven hours and it's like the middle of the night. What're the odds that you'll let me leave it at 'we were trying to help'?" Mason looked back at Sebastian with a winning grin.

Sebastian felt a small flare of irritation as Mason mentioned Madison having been the one to actually get them in trouble. Couldn't she have just left her brother out of it? "She..." he faltered. "Wow. That's some serious shit." He sighed softly, nodding. "Definitely understanding that you tried to help someone with something, but things like that don't usually get you Watch Eye-d. And no, the odds aren't looking good, babe." His heart fluttered as Mason gave him a beautiful aetherdamn smile, his resolve melting momentarily. "Well... wait. No. No, you need to tell me."

Mason pouted but nodded, settling back against him. He stayed quiet for a little while, chewing on the edge of his lip; when he spoke, his voice was quiet. "What do you remember about...About those students that were attacked on campus last November?"

Sebastian shrugged, stretching up the arm that wasn't currently draped around Mason to tuck it under his head. "To be honest with you, not much? I mean, I read about it... but, it stopped. So it didn't seem like something to overly concern myself with, you know?"

Mason chuckled weakly; how he wished, sometimes, that he could do that too. "Um. Well. We sort of...know the people who were attacked." Mason took a breath. "And I helped one of them, and the other approached Madison, and I couldn't let Madison do something on her own, yknow?" He sighed softly, reaching up to pet Sabia gently. "I should have just stopped her. It didn't feel right, but..." Mason sighed again.

Sebastian tilted his head, confused. "Helping a victim of an attack does not a Watch Eye earn, Mason. What aren't you telling me?" He listened as Mason elaborated a little more, but still wasn't quite sure what to make of it. "Should have stopped her? What did Madison do?"

Mason sighed, buried closer against him. "You're gonna be mad." Mason took a deep breath, and as evenly as he could, continued. "Elliott was the one who reached out to Madison. His attacker controlled him and made him attack himself, with a knife made from--ironically, from this material they invented so shedim could get the LNflu vaccine." He snorted lightly. "It can...pierce their skin. Madison somehow got it in her head to...that security wasn't doing anything, or wasn't moving fast enough. So she...we...Sort of stoletheknife." Mason cleared his throat. "And then there was this...this person who found out and wanted it back so we went to meet them with a fake, which they didn't like too much, and then there was someone else who sort of hacked our phones and cleared everything about it, except for Tina because she didn't just open the stupid text message, so it wiped her whole freaking phone right before field studies and AMATs and--" Mason was getting worked up. Sabia rumbled lowly and he took a steadying breath. Breathe. "So...next thing we know they're accusing Madison of having... Attacked Elliott to beginwith. And they wanted to talk to me because I'm her freaking accomplice." Mason sighed heavily. "So. We got in some well-deserved trouble." Sebastian stayed silent for a long while as he digested everything Mason was saying to him. "You got in trouble for stealing something that was made solely for the purpose of being able to hurt a race of people?" he asked, trying to be sure he understood. "That's completely idiotic, Mason. No one should have a weapon like that to begin with." He didn't exactly like that Elliott had approached Madison after being attacked because, of course, she would try to help him without regards to her own safety and well being. "The two of you probably should have come up with a better plan that trying to steal it, but... I understand why you did it." He abhorred the idea of he and Madison meeting up with someone about this knife-- it sounded ridiculously dangerous-- but it didn't seem like now was the time to chastise them. "I'm glad you're safe," he said firmly.

Mason relaxed, at least a little, because some anxious part of him was able to still slightly. Sebastian wasn't mad at him. He was worried - he could tell that from the way his grip tightened - but he wasn't mad. "We shouldn't have come up with any plan at all." Mason said with a shake of his head. "Or if we did, it should have included Security." Mason snorted softly. "It was completely idiotic. Because we're complete idiots."

"I..." Sebastian hesitated, trying to figure out what he was trying to say. "I... I don't think the two of you were idiotic. I mean... it wasn't the best plan. It's idiotic that you're getting the Eye for trying to save people. Makes no aetherdamn sense to me, but what do I know?" he sighed, biting his lip. "I agree. Security would have been a better route. Probably a lot of things that could have been a better route... but what's done is done. We'll get through it."

"We?" Mason echoed, looking up at him for the first time since he began to talk about the whole thing. Mason was suddenly, sharply overwhelmed by appreciation and love; Quinn had wanted to help but couldn't, not really, and Marley was dealing with Samhain (which, Mason realized, he would need to tell Sebastian about) and Madison was in the same situation he was, maybe even worse. Mason buried his face against Sebastian's chest again, the word keeping time with the thrum of his heart: we, we, we. It felt so nice to be a we again. "I missed you so much, Seb."

"We," Sebastian repeated, not sure how to react to the tone of Mason's voice. He wondered what else was going on inside his head but didn't want to push, was almost scared to ask. How had he left Mason alone to deal with all of this shit? He should have been here for him. One thing that he knew for sure was the he was never going to allow himself to be carted off again. He'd rather deal with the familial fallout than be away from Mason and his friends. "I missed you too," he said softly, adding, "It's been so hard being away form you, Mase. It was like fucking torture."

Mason nodded against him. A keen awareness was pressing against him - he'd been lonely. Not alone, and he hadn't even had time to wallow, but aether it felt so good to have Sebastian back. We. "We have so many movies to watch," Mason mumbled against his chest. "I went to your room every Monday but you weren't there and my texts weren't going through. I thought maybe you were finally sick of Commons movies." Or of me, he didn't add aloud. "I tried to read more of Harry Potter but it wasn't the same." It had just made him sadder.

Sebastian nodded, nuzzling the top of Mason's head. "We do. Mondays... Mondays have hurt." He could hear the stress in his voice, knew he wasn't going to be able to pretend that he was fine. Shaking his head, he murmured a soft never. He'd never tire of movies with Mason. "You're my favorite part of the week, Mase." Perhaps it was true that absence makes the heart grow fonder, because being away had made him desperate to be even closer. "I'll read more to you. We can do homework together? Watch a few movies on not-Mondays?" Sebastian sighed, feeling a thickness in his throat. He was almost nervous to be away from Mason again, for some reason. It had been so long and it hardly felt real to be home. "I'm not quite ready to have any sort of distance between us again. I know that's unrealistic, but I've missed you so fucking much. Everything has been terrible. Why don't you guys just come back to my room and we can get some sleep?"

Mason nodded easily. He had so much to tell Sebastian, so much to be told - aether, they were best friends, and now seeing him only once a week for sure seemed absurd. "Okay," Mason agreed. Inwardly, he was worried about it - he hadn't slept well since he'd come back from The Compound, and he didn't want to disturb clearly-exhausted Sebastian, but...but the three weeks had felt like three years or thirty, and he couldn't imagine just going back to bed. On top of him, Sabia made a low noise of disapproval: Classes, pup, and your things? Mason wrinkled his nose at her. "I have class at nine tomorrow. Don't let me miss it, 'kay?" Mason looked back at Sebastian and smiled again, wider and surer. "Everything has been terrible but you're back now and that's one not so terrible thing." Mason patted his chest gently and then sat up, yawning as he did a great stretch. "Sleep now. We'll worry about everything tomorrow, right?"

Sebastian smiled a bit and nodded. As Mason grinned, Sebastian brushed a hand over his cheek. "Of course, babe. Won't let you miss anything." He sat up as Mason did, watching as he stretched with a dazed smile. It was so good to be back. "Yes. We'll start to figure things out. We'll make a plan. It will be okay." Sebastian stood up and offered Mason a hand. "We should grab clothes for you, unless you just want to borrow some stuff to wear tomorrow."

"Who needs clothes, " Mason whined, but Sabia woofed at him sharply to remind him: he did. He needed clothes. "Guess I should probably let Spence know I wasn't kidnapped, too," Mason agreed, linking his arm with Sebastian's as they moved to the door. Aether, finally; it was like something had been missing, like he'd been going around with only half his vocabulary or only part of his body. Sebastian was something key, something important, and as he reemerged from his room, messenger bag packed with clothes and a toothbrush, note left for Spencer, he found himself cautiously optimistic. Maybe he was right this time and everything really would be fine. Mason locked his door and joined him again, linking their arms once more - after a second of hesitation, he leaned up and pecked Sebastian's cheek. "Welcome home, Seb."

Sebastian narrowed his eyes to Sabia when she barked to Mason, seeming to chastise him for his comment about clothes. He certainly didn't need them, but it didn't seem that the wolf agreed. He waited patiently in the hallway, looking down to her as Mason gathered his things. "You're not a very good wingwoman, you know. Not that you'd be mine, but rather his. And it would be nice if you didn't woof at him so--" the pointless conversation was cut off by Mason coming back out into the hall. Sebastian smiled as he took his arm, heart hammering in his ears as he flushed when Mason kissed his cheek. "Thanks, Mase," he smiled. "C'mon. Let's get back to my room. Talk some more? Try to get some sleep?"

"Sleep sounds good," Mason admitted, linking his free arm with Sebastian's again. He was still wearing the lacrosse sweatshirt, but now he had a tank top beneath it, and socks on his feet beneath his shoes. "Talking..." seemed dangerous. "Maybe we can hold off on the heavy stuff till morning?" Maybe they could hold off on it forever? "Also, Sabia says if she was meant to be a wingwoman, she would have wings." Mason tilted his head, an amused, curious smile on his face. "What were you two talking about?"

"'Course we can, babe," Sebastian said, giving Mason's arm a gentle squeeze. He smiled a bit, looking toward Mason. He looked really damn good in his sweatshirt. It was almost... domestic. And made his heart beat a little faster. Narrowing his eyes as Mason mentioned his conversation with Sabia, Sebastian huffed softly and stared at her. Traitor. "A flying wolf would be quite interesting. But no. And nothing. We weren't talking about anything. You look pretty tired," he added, hoping for a subject change. Mason didn't need to know-- wouldn't want to know his flirty thoughts.

Sabia yipped at Sebastian lightly, something that made Mason laugh. Aether. "Whatever you say." Mason yawned and shook his head. "I was in a dead sleep 'fore you showed up. I'm allowed to look tired." He'd probably looked tired before that, too. "You don't look too hot yourself,"

"What was that?" Sebastian asked hurriedly, wanting to know what the noise had been conveying. Was she telling Mason even more things he didn't need to know? He bit his lip, glancing over. "Yeah, I know. I'm sorry, Mase. I should have let you sleep until morning. I could have waited. I just... I guess my heart ran away with me." Sebastian shrugged a bit and sighed. "Well, it's been a rough few days. I've missed so many fucking things. I missed a job interview, Quinn's birthday, classes, you..." he held the door open as they walked outside, making their way to Notos. "I just didn't want to have to miss you any longer, I guess."

Mason smiled to himself, bumping hips with him gently. "No, that's not what I meant. I'm--I'd definitely rather be awake and see you than sleep and not," Mason promised with a wide smile. He snugged closer in the cool of the night and yawned again. "Quinn will just be happy to see you, I bet. Not as happy as me," he added with a smile. "What job interview? Can you make it up?"

Sebastian chewed at the inside of his cheek. "Well, I just... sleep is important." He kissed Mason's temple as he leaned in closer. "I wasn't trying to interrupt said sleep, but like, impatience?" Chuckling he glanced up at Notos as they approached. He hadn't even went up to his room, instead leaving his suitcase at the front desk and running off to Mason's. He missed his bed. He missed his room and his brews and not being watched 24/7. "I'm probably going to have to take something to get some sleep. A lot on my mind." Sebastian ran his free hand through his hair. "I know I've said it a million times, but I fucking missed you so much," he murmured softly.

"Make it a double?" Mason said, peering up at him. "You don't have to miss me anymore. 'Cause you're here," Mason beamed up at him, sleepy but happy; he only released him so Sebastian could pick up his suitcase, and then he wrapped his arm around Sebastian's waist again. "I'm really glad you're home."

"'Course, babe," Sebastian murmured with a yawn, nodding. He snatched his suitcase and smiled when Mason moved back to his side nearly instantly. "You say that, you know? But for some reason it still doesn't quite feel real." Smiling, he said, "I'm glad too, Mase. Thanks for not being salty about how long I've been gone." He tugged Mason into his arms when they were in the elevator, completely uncaring of how... snuggly it was. He needed to feel grounded. "I should probably try and shower and get all the plane off of me, but fuck I'm tired." He pulled back as the elevator door opened at his floor and headed to his room.

"You do kinda stink," Mason teased, wrinkling his nose lightly, playfully. "How 'bout you start the potions and shower quick and then we can go right to bed?" Mason felt some of the tension ease out of him as the returned to his room - he didn't know how many times this past month he'd stood on the other side, hoping that this time Sebastian would answer. "Imma be salty though. When I'm more awake. Except not as much as I could've 'cause it was my fault." Mason moved over to Sebastian's bed and flopped across the bed, burying his face in the pillows. Aether, Sebastian had a nice bed. Sabia leaped up next to him and settled down, nosing at his cheek affectionately. She liked it here, too.

Sebastian groaned loudly as he unlocked the door, making a big show of rolling his eyes. "It was not your fucking fault, Mason Larch. You were an excuse for my father to be an asshole. Do not internalize his bullshit. That's my job." He watched as Mason made himself at home on his bed. He took the suggestion with ease, liking that Mason had come up with such an easy solution. He took a deep breath as he walked into his potions closet, having missed his own space terribly. He grabbed a cauldron and started tossing ingredients in, moving it to a hot plate to start a simmer. "Gonna hop in the shower, babe." Sebastian made quick work of hopping in the shower, not realizing until after he got out that he hadn't grabbed pajamas. "Mase?" he called out. "Can you toss in some shorts and stuff?" Sebastian highly doubted Mason would appreciate him bopping around in a towel. "Or close your eyes so I can grab shit myself?"

Mason was asleep, snoring gently. Sabia, however, was not. She slid off the bed and grabbed a mouthful of laundry from the corner - ew, ew, ew - and scratched at the bathroom door. She didn't know or care what shorts were, or if she had any in her mouth.

Sebastian was incredibly confused when he heard a strange scratching noise at the door. Keeping the towel firmly around his waist, he opened it up, peeking out. He tilted his head curiously, gaze moving downward until he was met with Sabia. Arching a brow, he took the clothes from her mouth-- yoga pants were close enough-- and thanked her softly. "He fall asleep on me?" Smirking a bit, he thanked her softly and stepped out of Sabia's line of sight to slip them on. "Should I wake him to give him that brew?" he asked after he slipped them on. "Or let him sleep?" He toweled his hair dry, tossing it and heading back out toward the bed.

Sabia hopped back up on the bed, nosing at Mason, nipping at his ear until he stirred. "Hrn?" Mason frowned in confusion, one hand automatically petting Sabia's fur. "Where...oh. Seb," Mason smiled sleepily and tugged Sabia down to him, ignoring her huff of dissatisfaction. "Hi. Time is it?"

Sebastian smiled a bit as he watched Sabia and Mason, nose wrinkling as she woke him. There was his answer. Sebastian grabbed a glass and doled out some of the brew, walking it over to the bed. "It's late, babe. 2:30. Drink this," he added, pressing the glass into Mason's hand.

"I don't need a--" Sabia interrupted Mason with a low growl. "Okay, okay. Thank you," Mason added, knocking it back in one gulp. "C'mon. Sleep time." Mason squinted up at him. "Your hair's all..." Mason reached a hand up toward his head.

Sebastian arched a brow as Sabia growled at Mason's protest, incredibly curious as to what was going on. He drank some of the brew himself and moved to slide in bed next to Mason. "Yeah. The hair's making choices." Smiling, he snuggled down into the sheets, the cool fabric against his bear chest having him humming contentedly. He'd missed his fucking bed. "Ugh, the fucking light," he groaned.

Mason chuckled softly into the pillow, patting his still-damp hair gently. "The hair's making good choices." Mason yawned and turned slightly, taking in the problem Sebastian pointed out. "The light," Mason agreed. He could've cast something to put it out, but he had to brush his teeth anyway, and the potion was already working through him. He couldn't magic. So he slid out of bed and grabbed his toothbrush and paste and hit the light. He disappeared into the bathroom for a moment and then he leaned back in the doorway and watched Sebastian. This was good. This is exactly how it was supposed to be. Sebastian was back. He finished brushing his teeth, kicked his socks off and returned to the bed, nestling beneath the covers. "Hi," he said, barely more than a whisper. "You're home."

Sebastian huffed, unhappy when Mason squirmed away, but knew he had to go get ready for bed. Their eyes remained locked together in a silence he didn't really understand as Mason brushed his teeth. It felt right. Then again, being with Mason truly always had. He could have stayed there, content, for hours. But soon Mason was back and wonderfully close. "Hi," he replied softly, a small smile teasing the corners of his lips in the dark. "I'm home. I'm not leaving again. Not without you." The words tumbled from his lips so easily, no thought put behind them other than raw honesty. "I mean, if I ever have to leave again, I'll tell you. Or won't go. Or would try and take you."

Mason shook his head, shifting to let Sabia have some room to curl up between them. "Can't take you," Mason mumbled, patting Sebastian's face gently. "You're here now. No going anywhere else." Mason closed his eyes and snuggled closer, letting out a soft sigh. "Not 'llowed, 'kay?"

Sebastian hummed contentedly as he felt the brew slowly overtaking him, like being wrapped up in a large, warm blanket. He smiled pleasantly at the idea of Mason not allowing him to go places. "Mmk, boss. No leaving." He yawned, burying a hand in Sabia's fur as she nuzzled between them. He loved having the two of them around.

"Gnight, Seb," Mason mumbled, letting out a contented sigh. Everything was okay. Everything was fine. Sebastian was back. All the other crap - Coleman, Samhain - was nothing but a hazy distant blur. Before he could say or think about anything else, he was asleep again, more relaxed than he'd been in months.

"Night, Mase," Sebastian said sleepily, reaching out to find a connection with some part of Mason. His hand hit something, an arm, maybe? But it was enough. Just to remember that he was here and everything would be fine. He'd start piecing everything together tomorrow. They'd figure it out. It would all be okay.

#para: all #para: 078 #para: came back to me #para: sebastian

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