#March first and I’m already off the deep end

[saetoru]

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。what if you’re someone i just want around (i’m falling again)

synopsis. somewhere along the line, you started to hate suguru—that doesn’t mean you stopped loving him too

— word count. 9.5k (i am in misery)

— contents. post canon! au — fix it! (we all need a good fix it fic with suguru don't lie), this fic was started before recent manga chapters so the higher ups are still alive—just go with it ok :,), geto survives + lives free of kenjaku, exes to lovers, kind of redemption i suppose, mentions of blood, injuries, and weight loss (geto), mentions of canon character deaths (nanako, mimiko, nanami), mentions of wanting to raise children with geto and have a family, no gendered terms but reader has a personality and actual thoughts and feelings, references to the hunger games (you have movie night lol), BFF satoru (he is babie), there is a kiss y’all !! (scandalous i know :O)

— notes. i started this fic back in march and i had trouble with it and put it on pause for a while. i’m very glad i finished it in the end. i always like fix it! fics and this is self-indulgent and idk if ppl will read it bc it’s sfw but it’s ok if they don’t, i loved writing it. thank you koi for beta-reading this whole bad boy. mwah <333

the day suguru is declared a free man is actually the day he signs away his freedom for good. 

you say nothing, but you know it’s the truth. satoru fights tooth and nail to plead suguru’s case—you think it’s perhaps a little too desperate for it to be in the best interest of suguru and not himself. but satoru has suffered enough, and admittedly—although you deny it—a small part of you does not want to lose suguru twice. you watch as satoru argues that suguru has already died once—surely he can’t die again? and losing control of his body and mind is paying for his crimes enough, is it not? he argues that there are no ideals left for a man like geto suguru to chase after losing himself to every principle he had left. 

and then satoru wins. 

you expect it, but it doesn’t make it any easier. you watch numbly as suguru is assigned under your watch. you should be happy. you love suguru—you never stopped. but it doesn’t change the fact that he’s not a free man, and now he drags your freedom with his. you’ll never break away from him, never cut through the ropes that tie your hands behind your back and bind you to him—and then you wonder for a moment, unsure if it’s selfish or selfless or some cruel in-between to think this way, if geto suguru was better off dead. 

whether that’s for your sake, or his, you’re not sure. 

and yes, he’s let off alive, and sure, there’s no real punishment for all he’s done, but you know deep down he’s as chained and shackled as he’s ever been. he’s not allowed to leave the house unless you or satoru are there to chaperone, and it’s never to be anywhere near non-sorcerers. he’s not to live in a place of his own until the higher up’s deem him trustworthy. he has to ask you to buy the things he wants from the grocery store. he can’t even step outside for a smoke unless you’re aware. 

for a long time, he doesn’t speak much—can hardly muster a barely audible mornin’ back when you force a smile and greet him cheerily for breakfast. slowly, it turns into half-snarky conversations that get cut short by one of you leaving the room. finally, you’re civil—maybe even friendly. you’re not so sure where you stand with him as of now.

it’s not the same suguru you remember falling in love with, it’s not even close to the version of the man you fell for all those years ago. it’s hard having him here—some days you’re angry and want to throw him out, to scream at him for haunting you again just when you think you’ve moved on from the horrors of your past. some days you want to cry and cling to him, bury your face into his neck and thank him for being here again, for finding his way back to you. and some days you wish you never met him at all, that this would all be easier if it didn’t exist in the first place. 

he’s not the same geto suguru you loved, but somehow, because life is as bitter as it is ruthless, you fall in love with this version just as hard no matter how much you deny it. 

“i made your favorite,” you smile gently, placing a neat plate of french toast with freshly cut strawberries on the side. you even take great care to get the syrup-to-powdered sugar ratio he likes right, but he doesn’t make a move to reach for the plate. instead, suguru sits at the table stiffly, like he has to be here or there are consequences for that too. it almost makes you sad—even here, he’s not free. 

“thanks,” he says quietly, “but i’m not hungry.”

“you said that last night, suguru,” you sigh, “and at lunch. and at breakfast. and at dinner the night before—”

“i’ll eat it later,” he cuts you off, playing with the ends of his hair. 

it’s a lot shorter now. it’s you who finds his body battered and bruised after the smoke clears. he’s almost unrecognizable, not the same charming and perfect suguru you’re used to seeing. not the same silkened strands and smooth skin, not the same muscled and toned body, not the same chiseled jaw and soft cheeks. instead, he’s a shell of himself. his hair is matted in knots, his body is almost frail, and you notice the sunken hollows of his cheeks and dark undereyes as you lift him from the rubble a little too easily. but his body is his own—that much you can tell from the way the stitches have disappeared. 

it takes shoko a long time to nurse him back to health—it takes even longer for him to open his eyes.

you waited day and night by his side, hand over his as he breathed slowly, unconscious and unsuspecting. it would be so easy, you think one night, it would be so easy to kill him and forget and move on. 

you’ve already grieved him once before. you’ve felt and conquered the pain of loving geto suguru and losing him first to himself and then to death. but love is as selfish as it is selfless, and it’s under your mercy that you let him live—yet it’s under your cowardice that you keep him close. 

“you have to gain back the weight you lost, suguru,” you sigh, “you’re w—”

“weak?” he finishes for you, eyeing you for a second and then grinning. it’s unsettling, a grin that makes your skin crawl and your heart stop for a moment before he’s reaching for the fork and stabbing into his toast. “is that what you wanted to say? that i’m weak?”

“suguru, you know that’s not how i meant—”

“you’re not wrong,” he hums, chewing on the first bite as he speaks, “i suppose i am pretty weak right now, huh? couldn’t even kill you in your sleep if i tried could i?”

your throat is dry as you shrug, “i suppose not,” you whisper. 

“ah,” he grins again, “but that doesn’t stop you from locking your door every night, does it?” 

suguru is still healing. his body is weak, and sometimes, he leans against the wall as he walks. his arm is healed—you’re not entirely sure how, but you catch him rolling the shoulder out every now and then like it’s sore and stiff. he’s lost a lot of weight—part of it is from being bedridden for as long as he was, injured and half alive, and part of it is from barely eating—save for the few bites you force into him. you never thought there’d be a day when you could say this—but the odds of you beating suguru in hand-to-hand combat are high, and the reality is an everlasting reminder that he is not who you fell for. 

you swallow, letting out a shaky breath as he watches you closely, diligently cutting another bite from the french toast sitting on his plate as he stares you down like he can see past your soul. you don’t know what’s scarier—that suguru can still practically see yours, or that you’re unsure he even has one anymore. 

“you tried coming in?” you ask, unsure what else to say. he merely shrugs, takes another bite, and sets his fork down. 

“thought i’d check on you,” he pops a strawberry half into his mouth as he speaks.

“is that what it really was?” you raise a brow, “or was i right to lock the door?”

you’re not sure why you lock the door at night. maybe it’s because you don’t trust him, or maybe it’s because you don’t want him near you just yet. you’re not sure. you’re not sure how satoru can go back to his cheery self, how he can step through your door and boom a loud yo, suguru! before settling beside suguru on the couch with his feet on the coffee table as he rambles away. maybe it’s not real—maybe it’s satoru desperately pretending that if he tries hard enough, things can go back to how they were. 

but you don’t know how he still has the energy to try, and you don’t know if you have it in you to try anymore yourself. 

you and suguru stare each other down like that for a bit, the tension rising with every silent second that passes. you’re sure he doesn’t want to be here as much as you don’t want him around—but you’re also sure he’s glad it’s here with you as much as you’re glad it’s with no one else.

“you tell me,” he smirks after a bit, the hint of amusement making your fists clench. how dare he have the audacity to look at you like that in your own home? like he has the upper hand over you without trying? “what do you think i was there for?”

“i think you should stay in your room, suguru,” you say carefully, “i bought a new bed just for that room.”

“how sweet of you,” he hums. he sips the tea before him—it’s cold by now, but it’s just how he likes it, rose with one sugar. “you must have been excited to have me.”

“hardly,” you mumble bitterly—you can’t help it. you want him to feel hurt, even just a little. you want him to know that just because he’s back, it doesn’t mean you’ve waited all this time for him to be. liar, a part of you says, you’ve always waited for him, haven’t you? but suguru doesn’t seem phased—he doesn’t even blink.

“then tell me, why am i here?” suguru asks, his tone is as casual as ever. 

i wish i knew, you want to say. i wish i knew but i don’t.

“because satoru asked you to be,” is all you can say.

he nods, pushing back his plate and standing up, offering you that same grin. “you’re right,” he hums, “that’s exactly why i’m here.”

it hits you why his smile is so unsettling once he leaves—it’s almost genuine, like he’s still loved you all this time. impossible, you tell yourself. suguru stopped loving you a long time ago. and you need to stop trying to figure out why. 

————————————————

even despite telling yourself you don’t care what suguru thinks, a small part of you needs to prove to him you’re not scared of him. that you don’t fear for your own safety in your home, and that him being here is not some form of him haunting you. you don’t care. he shouldn’t get the luxury of thinking you care. he can come in and watch you sleep like the creep he is if he wants—you couldn’t bother to give it a second thought. 

the first night you take a chance and leave the door unlocked, suguru slips into bed beside you. it wakes you up instantly, and before you can question it, his head tucks into your neck, and his hand grasps your shirt tightly. you notice the panting almost instantly—and then you realize, it must be a nightmare. 

you fall into old habits, even after all these years, defaulting to care for him like it’s second nature. 

“you’re safe, suguru,” is what you settle for saying after a moment of contemplation. it’s all you can really think to say, so you brush your lips over the top of his head as you murmur, “you’re safe,” over and over again. 

as difficult as it is to have suguru around, as painful and cruel and aggravating as it is to be reminded of his distant existence even as he’s two doors down, this part feels natural. it’s almost like you’re back in jujutsu high, waking up to him sneaking into your room as he presses his weight over your body and wakes you with soft kisses along your face. 

except this time, he’s not annoyingly demanding cuddles or telling you about his weird dream, he’s not stealing your blanket and demanding you play with his hair. this time, it’s not the same suguru—and this time, it’s not jujutsu high. 

it’s your room. the one you got on the other side of town to leave the sorcery world behind, somehow still stuck right in the center of it no matter where you go. and yet, just like all those years ago, your legs tangle, and your arms wrap him up, and you murmur, “you’re safe,” while he catches his breath. 

“but they’re not,” he mutters in between labored pants, making you pause. 

and then you remember. 

faintly, you recall the blonde and black hair from a distance, you remember bitterly wondering what’d it be like watching suguru fathering children of your own as you came to the reality that it would never happen. sometimes, you wonder if you hate nanako and mimiko for existing, for living as the dreams you never got to live through with suguru. 

it’s selfish—to hate two children because they are what you do not have. 

but then you feel something wet hit your neck, and then you wish they were okay—for his sake. and just for a moment, you’re selfless again. 

“they’re not safe,” he mutters, making you sigh. 

“they are,” you whisper, hesitating for a moment before letting your fingers slip into his hair. you scratch gently at his scalp, feeling his body melt into yours almost instantly—like it’s a response that’s natural to him. “they’re not suffering. not anymore.”

“is that supposed to make me feel better?” he scoffs. you shrug, letting your cheek press against the top of his head as you sigh.

“it helps me feel better,” you say softly, “‘s just how you learn to cope.”

it’s an understanding you both silently come to. loss on both sides. bloodshed on either ground. defeat no matter which ideal you take. to love is to bear the pain of mortality—it’s a lesson that you never cease to learn until the ends of time itself. 

“the jujutsu world is one of suffering,” he grits, sniffling into your neck. you hum, pressing a kiss to his head as your eyes close. 

“every world is one of suffering, suguru, you can’t erase them all. the sooner you realize that, the easier you’ll find peace.”

you fall into a slumber after that, faintly aware of the way he shuffles closer to you, faintly aware of the soft kiss pressed to your skin as sleep takes over your body and drifts you out of consciousness. 

when you wake up the next morning, suguru is gone, and the door is closed. the blanket is tucked up to your chin, and your neck still tingles from last night. 

————————————————

“get up,” you throw a pillow at suguru, waking him up with a start as he sits up. his hair is tousled and messy from sleep—it’s now long enough that he can put it in a bun without strands slipping from the bottom anymore. you chuckle as he glares at you, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes as he groans. 

“the fuck was that for?” he grunts, holding the blanket up to cover his exposed chest. 

it’s funny that he does that, in a way. it’s not as though you haven’t seen his chest…and then some too. it’s not like you haven’t torn his shirt off to stanch the flow of blood from his injuries before or feel the bare skin with your palm under the pale moonlight as the lingering scent of sex breezes through the room. 

but somehow, even though he doesn’t need to cover his chest around you of all people, you’re glad that he does. truthfully, it keeps you slightly comforted to know that he’s aware you’re still technically strangers—no matter how well-versed you are in each other’s pasts. but you don’t ponder on it too much. instead, you grin, shoving aside the visual of the small glance you caught at his pecs, and you clap your hands to motion him to hurry. 

“we are going grocery shopping,” you say casually—as though it’s not something to make him raise a brow in shock.

“me?” he points a finger at himself. you roll your eyes, and he challenges you with another raise of his brow. “aren’t i supposed to stay away from civilians?”

“yes, you,” you nod, pointing back at him, “and satoru has worked overtime to get you granted permission to roam around with me. he says you’re welcome, by the way.”

“tell him to go fuck off.”

“that’s ungrateful,” you say flatly, “his feelings will be hurt.”

“his feelings will find a way to cope,” suguru huffs. “i don’t want to be around…them,” he says bitterly. 

you suppose it’s wishful thinking to hope suguru has let go of his past beliefs. perhaps he’s long abandoned the possibility of the vision he once planned on bringing to life, but you can’t say you expected him to revert back to the old suguru who fought alongside you and satoru. you yourself certainly have no intention of returning to the sorcery world after all the events, so you can’t say you’re shocked by the lack of change he seems to show. but then again, you suppose suguru has changed. whether he sees it or not. 

he stays here and doesn’t put up a fight to leave even though he can now that he’s healed. he eats lunch when you tell him and even washes the dishes. sometimes, when you come home a bit late, dinner is even ready on the table as he sits and stares at you expectantly. his plate is empty like yours—like he’s been waiting for you even though he doesn’t need to. you suppose you can see he’s changed in the way he doesn’t scoff at the tv channels you surf through, he silently sits on the opposite end of the couch now and watches with you, and perhaps if you’re lucky, you’ll hear a light chuckle or a quiet sigh as the scenes roll on the screen. 

you suppose this suguru is a step closer to your suguru every day he spends with you, but you don’t know if any suguru is what you need right now. perhaps that name should’ve been buried away as a distant memory, perhaps it should’ve only been something you unlock once every year on his death anniversary—when satoru clambers through your door drunk and unsteady as he clutches the hand that killed his best friend, only to share pancakes with you in the morning and pretend like you don’t notice the dried tears on his cheeks while he acts like he doesn’t catch the way your hand shakes as you cut into your breakfast. 

but suguru is here now. whether it’s as geto, one half of the strongest duo in jujutsu high, whether it’s as suguru, the love of your life and the sole reason you exist, or whether it’s as geto suguru, the curse user and mass murderer who haunts your past, present, and everything in between. 

so you simply sigh, grab the pillow again, and hit the top of his head before walking over to the door as you call over your shoulder, “i’m gonna wait for you by the door in fifteen minutes. be ready or face the consequences..”

“no thanks. don’t wanna,” suguru grumbles petulantly, frowning at you as you stick your tongue at him, smirking as if you’ve just played your ace. 

“too bad,” you sing before swinging the door shut.

he’s at the door in exactly fifteen minutes, like he waited until the last possible second to join you as a move of spite. but you simply gesture him out the door and lock up, taking your sweet time as he stands there with an annoyed face. you stare at the doorknob once you’re done, taking a deep breath before turning to him with your best smile. 

“let’s go,” you hum.

“after you,” he mutters.

—

he grimaces as soon as he sees the people going about their business, clearly unhappy with the idea of being around non-sorcerers, but one sharp glare from you has him sighing and trekking along. the grocery store, admittedly, is not as bad as suguru thinks—in fact, there are lots of things he doesn’t realize he misses until he watches you grab a shopping cart. 

suddenly, he sees shadows. the silhouette of your figure climbing into the cart, the angry wave of satoru’s hands as he claims it's his turn to be pushed around, the figure of shoko pinching the bridge of her nose in irritation from the back—and then, he sees the dark shadow of baggy pants and a small bun. it’s him. suguru watches himself almost in slow motion through the remnants of his imagination as he gently shoves satoru out of the way and reaches to poke the tip of your nose before he pushes the cart with you in it.  

it’s a happy memory—and it’s gone all too soon.

as soon as he blinks, the shadows have disappeared—instead, it’s you waving a hand in his face, concern written on your features as you call his name. 

“suguru? hey, hello? are you with me?”

he exhales, pulled from his trance as he gently grabs your wrist from in front of his face and sets it down as he nods, “yeah, i’m fine. just thinking,” he mumbles. 

for a second, you hesitate, like you almost mean to say something. but in the end, you only nod before turning to grab the shopping cart. but he stops you—grabs the handle and turns to you with a small smile on his face, making you raise a brow as he gently moves you away. 

“what are you—”

“get in,” he grins, making you stare at him in bewilderment. 

“what?”

“just get in,” he sighs, “you love it when you get to sit in the cart.”

“i’m not a teenager anymore—”

“get in, will you?” he groans, “always so damn difficult.”

“hey,” you pout, glaring at him with your hands planted at your hips, “that’s rude.” it’s cute. suguru stares at you with amusement in his eyes and a soft look on his face that you don’t think you’ve really seen in years. 

“humor me,” he hums, “just get in, okay?”

so you do. 

with a huff and a grumble under your breath, you fight back a smile and climb into the damn cart just like old times. you swallow and try not to let it get to you when he reaches over and pokes the tip of your nose and pushes the cart around, letting you name off the things you need from your list while he grabs them. and when he sneaks snacks into the pile, you roll your eyes and glare at him in the way you always did—the one that isn’t actually annoyed. fond. happy to let it slide because it’s him.

“we need candy,” you murmur, “that’s the last thing on the list.”

“okay. what kind?” he asks, turning the cart into the candy aisle and smiling softly down at you.

“doesn’t matter, satoru eats anything as long as it’s sweet. he’s more likely to die from sugar than fighting a curse, i think.”

“you buy candy for satoru?” he asks, making you shrug as you reach over and grab a few bags of candy off the shelves, setting them down beside you. 

“he comes over a lot so i learned to keep stuff stocked up for him. you know how he gets when he’s hungry.”

suguru feels something he hasn’t felt since he was a teenager. jealousy—specifically of satoru. 

suguru is not foolish. he knows as soon as he meets gojo satoru that of the two, one of them is stronger and it’s definitely not himself. for the longest time, he’s okay with that, okay being the strongest only when alongside satoru—until he’s not. and even if suguru always had a bit more attention in the romance department than satoru, in his head he’s always known that perhaps satoru can keep you safer, more well off, maybe even happier. with smooth smiles and eyes as welcoming as an oasis, gojo satoru would never leave you in the dark pit of misery as suguru once had. 

something about the thought of you and satoru keeping each other company through the lonely years, filling that empty spot suguru left behind, sharing moments over candy and empty wrappers makes suguru wonder for a moment if perhaps he’d be happier if he stayed. maybe he could have worn a heartfelt smile in a world that carves them off the faces of sorcerers with bloody knives as long as you were there to wipe the blood.  

but before he can dwell on it, you snatch one more bag—this time of his favorite candy, placing it into the cart and grinning gently up at him. 

“i haven’t bought this one in years,” you admit, “i almost forget how it tastes.”

“me too,” he says quietly.

“well,” you hum, “we’ll have to have some when we’re home.”

home. you say it as though it belongs to him as much as it does you, and then like you always have, without even meaning to, you wash away the dark stains of his jealousy with no trace left behind.

“yeah,” he chuckles, “we—”

“daddy, look! candy!” suguru is cut off by the gentle pitter-patter of two tiny feet running into the aisle, pointing at a bag of candy as a man follows close behind. 

his breath hitches. 

she’s small, the girl—she has two pigtails with soft strands of blonde hair falling out of the loosely tied bands. it reminds suguru of the first time he perfected tying up nanako’s hair, the soft giggles behind her tiny hand as she twirled in the mirror. 

there’s another girl in the man’s arms—dark hair on her head as she curls into her father’s chest and tucks her head into his neck when she sees you and suguru in the aisle. she’s shy, he realizes, like mimiko, and suddenly he remembers the tiny fingers that used to hook into his pants when she got too overwhelmed by the people around her, waiting for suguru to scoop her into his arms. 

perhaps in another life, suguru would redo everything differently—he’d be happy with you and satoru and shoko, and nanami and haibara would be there too, well and alive. but no matter what, he’d never redo nanako and mimiko differently. he’d never change a thing about them, not even the way nanako whines too much about small things or the way mimiko never speaks up even when something is clearly bothering her. he’d never change the way he saved them and took them in at the tender age of eighteen, too lost to be a father but choosing to raise them anyway. he’d never change the feeling of pure joy and unbridled pride when they climbed into his bed for the first time, shushing each other so as not to wake him—even though he’d awoken as soon as the door to his room opened. 

because he realized that night that yeah, maybe he’d made mistakes in his lifetime, lots of them too. maybe he’d made a bad choice choosing the path he did, or maybe he didn’t. he’s never been completely sure—just that he had to try at least to make his vision for a different world come to life. but one mistake he never made was his girls. one thing he was always sure about was the soft clutch at his pants and the tiny hands reaching for his own.

suguru wouldn’t change anything about nanako and mimiko—except maybe the fact that they aren’t here, gone because of him. 

“suguru?” you ask softly, reaching for his hand as he grips the cart tightly and pulling his gaze away from the family in the distance. 

he blinks, meets your eyes, and knows that you know. with one glance at your face, he knows you understand. the world is cruel, one filled with suffering, he thinks. but then he remembers what you said, that every world is full of suffering, not just his—that it’s a truth he has to come face to face with.

but it’s hard. it’s hard when this man has his two little girls and suguru does not—it’s hard to watch someone have what he wants with no worries of losing it, all because of people and their own weaknesses. he thinks for a moment that he’s been right all along—that non-sorcerers are too weak for this life, that the jujutsu world has always suffered so they don’t have to. 

but then the man speaks up, catching both of your attention. 

“your mother used to love those,” he says quietly to his daughter, a pained smile on his face. instantly, you and suguru both seem to understand the weight of that single sentence. 

every world has its own pain, suguru realizes. its own cruelties and unfairness, its own way of bringing suffering in its wake as it rips away the things closest to you from your begging fingertips, leaving them cold and empty and numb from the lost weight underneath them. 

“let’s go, suguru,” you whisper, “we have everything we came for.”

“yeah,” he whispers back, clearing his throat so his voice doesn’t crack, “let’s go.”

suguru leaves the grocery store with you after you pay, and for a brief moment, he’s unsure. unsure whether he’s grateful to satoru for fighting for him to be able to come and grateful to you for dragging him along, or if he wishes he died along with the rubble, gone before you could find him and turn him into this.

“before you even think about hiding away in your room,” you say, grabbing the bags from the cart as you put it back where it belongs, “you have to help with putting away the groceries.”

“sure,” he says smoothly. he grabs all the heavy bags from your hand, and you make a move to protest that you don’t need him to take the heavier ones, that you’re fine and can handle them like you’ve always handled them. 

but he walks off, and finally, you decide to simply follow.

—————————��——————

satoru likes to come and visit—you’ve started a routine movie night every week (unless he’s away, of course.) it’s fun, but it also means he makes your veins pop because he’s a headache like that—always makes himself right at home and eats your snacks like this is his place and not yours. he helps himself to your already limited candy and puts his sock-clad feet up on the coffee table no matter how many times you tell him not to. 

you try sitting with legs as long as these, he always whines, earning a harsh glare from you as you smack at his shins until he ultimately caves and begrudgingly sets his feet down. 

but then they always make their way back up to the coffee table, and you’re too busy enjoying his company to care—although you’ll never admit it. 

satoru is endearing like that, swallowing the dark clouds from your shoulders whole and eating up your burdens with that side of responsibility that you don’t think you could ever stomach. satoru is just like that, you realize, taking the brunt of the weight and laughing off every concern until you can’t help but not take them seriously yourself. 

it’s hard to remember that sometimes you didn’t just lose suguru, the love of your life, that night. everyone lost something. shoko lost someone to smoke with, yaga lost a student to scold, nanami lost a headache to avoid, and satoru?

well…satoru lost what you think might’ve been the only filled void of his miserably empty life. 

it’s hard to remember that satoru lost his best friend—the only best friend he’s ever had (although you like to think of yourself as a close contender)—because he’s so good at letting you forget. he brings you ice cream (that he eats half of because it’s only fair he gets a share), and he sits and hogs your couch (that he argues you don’t really need as much space as him on because your legs aren’t as long), and he watches those stupid sitcoms that are dry with boring jokes (that you used to make suguru watch back in the day).

it’s hard to remember that satoru also lost as much as you because he’s so damn good at making you forget about your own loss, you don’t care to think about anyone else’s for a while. just a short while. just until he’s yawning that obnoxiously loud yawn and stretching those awkwardly long limbs of his before he claims he really should go and that being the world’s best teacher requires as many hours of beauty sleep as you can squeeze in. 

and then he’s off. and it’s empty again. and just like that, you’re reminded of why he was there in the first place—to fill in that sick and painful void that geto suguru left in you. 

it’s gaping, like he tore a chunk of you right out with sharp teeth, like you’re just a piece of meat for him to get his fill of. if suguru really loved you, would you be so easy to let go of? why couldn’t he smile? because you could—god, you could smile just from the sight of him alone, you realize a long time ago. him with his cigarette tucked between his lips, those death sticks as you called them, hung loosely from his mouth as he gives you a lopsided grin. 

geto suguru is enough of a reason to smile. the world could crumble at your feet and leave you with nothing but rubble and dirt, and still, suguru is the core of the earth you’re searching for. 

so why couldn’t you be the same? what is it you were missing? what about you was just not enough for him like the way he was enough for you? 

it dawns on you one night, through bitter tears and shaky sobs, and that sick, twisted, pleading feeling in your gut that begs the wind to carry him back to you—geto suguru has never loved you the way you loved him.

and for that, you can never forgive him, you don’t think.

“you tryin’ to go bug-eyed?” he asks, settling down on the couch next to you, making you snap out of your trance. you shake your head a little, stare back at him for a moment before putting on that look on your face where you roll your eyes and pretend everything is fine.

“no,” you huff, “i’m just thinking.”

“about…?”

“satoru has rarely ever missed a movie night.”

“maybe he’s sick of you,” he shrugs, grinning slyly at you as you narrow your eyes with a glare, “there’s someone here to keep you company now so he’s probably taken his opportunity to run.”

“you’re hardly company,” you scoff, “freeloader.”

“hey,” he defends, shrugging as if it’s not his fault. you suppose it’s not. “i didn’t ask to be rescued. you can’t be high and mighty and petty. ‘s not how that works.”

“says who? you don’t make the rules. i can be graciously kind and a jerk all at once.”

“complexity,” he nods, “i like it.”

“i’m not as complicated as you might think,” you grumble, crossing your arms as you stare at the time. yeah, satoru isn’t making it—which, he told you as much, but he’s strolled in at the last second too many times to count before. you figure today would be the same. “as long as you don’t skip movie nights with me, i’m pretty simple to keep appeased.”

“alright,” he props his feet up on the coffee table—seriously, what is it with asshole men putting their feet on your table? satoru is a terrible influence. “let’s have a movie night.”

“what?” you blink.

“movie night,” he repeats, “you said you don’t like skipping movie night—”

“well, i meant i don’t like satoru skipping movie—”

“well, it was me before satoru, wasn’t it?” he says with a smile. his eyes are closed, crinkled at the corners, but his voice is carefully neutral—like he takes extra care not to let you see any emotion behind it. 

but that only means there is an emotion, isn’t there? is he jealous? does he hate the fact that you and satoru have a routine of your own without him? that you don’t need him to continue living your life? 

good. he should be. he walked out on you all those years ago. he killed a village. killed his parents. you never even got to meet them—he never even got to take you home and introduce you to them before he ripped away every fantasy you ever had with him. 

and now he’s back—he has the audacity to live, to laugh in your face with his existence that yes, geto suguru is here. and he was supposed to be executed, but your stubborn friend didn’t let that happen. he was supposed to be your husband by now with kids and a happy little home, and you were supposed to be his parent’s new addition to their family that they loved so much. but none of that is even close to happening, and it’s suguru’s fault, and the least he can do is show you some regret and maybe feel just the slightest bit bad that you now have to watch shitty movies with his best friend instead of him to feel normal. 

ex-best friend? half best friend? you don’t even know—do they still consider each other their best friends? does anyone consider suguru anything? you don’t know what you consider him. but you think the least he can do is act just the slightest bit pathetic after making you feel so pathetic for so long just to even the score. 

he should be a stranger. he feels like an old friend. but either is dangerous. 

“alright,” you sigh, “let's bring back movie night. don’t fall asleep.”

“i get plenty of sleep nowadays,” he hums, “i have more than enough free time for that now.”

“how lucky of you,” you snort. 

—

picking a movie with suguru is difficult. he actually has standards—satoru watches anything so long as he gets snacks, and he can make anything fun to watch with the way he comments from the side like a critic. suguru, on the other hand, actually cares about the quality of a movie, the metrics that make it good. 

so you pick the hunger games just to piss him off. 

“seriously?” he raises a brow, “this is your pick?”

“yes,” you grin, “i like these movies.”

“of all movies—”

“my house, my rules,” you grin cheekily, “you can pick the movies as soon as you start paying the bills.”

“wow,” he deadpans, “stooping to use my financial status against me? i thought you were better than this.”

“oh suguru,” you sigh dramatically, grabbing a bag of chips from the table, “you don’t know me at all.”

all things considered, you think it’s a rather enjoyable experience. it’s not as fun without satoru’s stupid comments that you pretend to hate, but suguru provides his own commentary that earns a giggle out of you here and there too—although his are not meant to be funny. but that’s the appeal of it, you think. 

“she should have picked gale,” he mumbles. you raise a brow.

“peeta was always there for her, did you miss the rain scene?”

“so was gale,” he says smoothly, grabbing a chip from your bag and making you scowl.

“gale killed her sister,” you point out, “and a lot of other people too. he was ruthless. she needed peeta.”

“gale did what he had to do,” suguru mumbles. 

suddenly, it doesn’t really feel like you’re discussing the movie anymore. it feels more than that. it feels sickening—the air is heavy, and your throat is dry and god, you just wanted a movie night and not this heaviness as you talk about stuff from the past without actually talking about it. 

you blink before turning to your chips, playing around with the bag as you shrug. 

“in the end he didn’t get katniss, did he?”

suguru studies you for a moment, stares a little too deep into you that you start to feel the urge to bolt to your room and go to bed. 

“guess not,” he says quietly, “guess that’s the one regret he has, huh?”

you think for a second, as suguru stares at your eyes with something you can’t quite read, that you might cry. you might cry and throw that half-empty can of soda in his face for speaking in codes and making you question what he means and remember your past. you might cry because suguru could’ve always gotten you—in fact, he had you.

it’s not fair. nothing is, but you can’t help but dwell on it.

“i’m going to bed. it’s late,” you mumble after a few moments, standing. he only nods, staring at the tv as the credits roll. when you make it to your room and the door shuts behind you, you debate clicking the lock in place. 

in the end, you don’t lock the door. suguru climbs into bed with you once more later that night, shaking slightly from his nightmare but calmer than usual. he’s still gone by the time morning comes, and you still never mention it.

it hits you one night that maybe he still has you—maybe you never let him stop having you, no matter what you say.

————————————————

suguru is good at cleaning while you’re away. you have to go out and do adult things like breadwinning and grocery shopping and bill paying. he dusts and cleans and even takes out the trash when you’re home to monitor him as he steps two feet out of your front door. sometimes, because you like to get on his nerves, you accidentally mess up a corner of the house just as he cleans it, laughing as he shoots you an unimpressed look. 

“stop getting crumbs on the floor,” he mumbles, “i just vacuumed.”

“you make a good malewife,” you giggle, “vacuuming and everything. how cute.”

“don’t call me that,” he grumbles, sitting down on the couch. 

“but you missed a spot,” you point to the crumbs you’ve sprinkled from your fingers as you snack away, making him glare. “failwife.”

“i’m going to divorce you and take everything,” he snaps, making you snort as you put your hands up in surrender.

“you don’t have to, you know,” you murmur, “clean, i mean. i can handle it.”

“i think i should carry my weight around here,” he shrugs, “since you are basically sugar babying me around for now.”

“dangerous curse user to the world, but sugar baby to me,” you tease, pulling a chuckle out of him as he rolls his eyes. 

sometimes it’s nice to have his company. suguru is good with banter like that, he’s not annoying like satoru where you run in circles. suguru makes you laugh from your belly, makes the hiccups catch in your throat as you double over. he’s always been like that, always known how to make laughter pour from your lips and trickle down your chin. it’s comforting to know he still knows how. it leaves a small amount of bitterness that he’s still able to make you feel like this. 

“by the way, next time you go shopping, take me with you,” he says casually, “i need to buy stuff for my hair. it’s growing.”

“you’ll finally see the sun just for your hair?” you gasp, “who knew that’s all it’d take?”

despite the playfulness in your words, there’s still shock. suguru is willingly stepping foot outside your house. he’s finally choosing to return to life after living like a recluse no matter how many times you and satoru have tried to beg him to get up and go somewhere. the most you can get out of him is a walk around the neighborhood before he goes back to wandering your home and hiding away in his room. 

suguru is returning to life, his life, and you can’t help but wonder where that leaves room for you.

“my hair is my charm,” he reasons, “wouldn’t you agree?”

there’s a smirk on his lips when he asks—it’s like he’s seventeen and teasing you again, giving you that unfairly flirty smile that used to make you stutter as a kid. back when you were hopelessly in love. back when it was you, suguru, and the world in your corner. back when you had dreams of your future, practically giggling as you planned it away in a notebook. 

suguru was always perfect like that, the kind of guy you could only dream about. he’s always been handsome—he’s always been the center of attention everywhere you went. you used to huff about it, about all the attention he managed to get from walking into a room alone. but then he’d smile, give you that tender look of his as he’d chuckle, and you’d be hopeless again. 

he shouldn’t have that effect on you anymore after over a decade. but he does. it’s cruel, the way the universe works. it’s like there’s a magnet that pushes you together no matter how far you try to go, still pulled by gravity straight into his awaiting eyes and devilish smile.

“i cut your hair off once, i can do it again,” you huff. he laughs, it’s good-natured and kind. 

“i was a bit heartbroken when i realized it was so short, i have to admit,” he says, “i didn’t look like me.”

“you looked good,” you say quietly, “i think you’d make anything work, to be honest.”

“yeah?” he grins, “any requests? i might consider it if it’s you.”

“oh shut up,” you roll your eyes, “how about shaving your head bald? let's see how much charm you have without all that hair.”

“i could charm you without the hair still, couldn’t i?” he winks. 

it’s unfair how he acts like normal. like a few months in your home undoes everything he’s ever committed, all the atrocities he’s caused. the way he flirts with you feels like you’re his again. the way he’s aged and changed feels like you’re meeting someone new. you don’t understand how suguru is so natural with that—with seamlessly falling back into a rhythm with you like nothing has changed at all.

deep down, you know that suguru is just moving on with his life. he’s making the most of what he can. he can’t die, satoru would never let him have a peaceful death after all this. he can’t go back to the way things used to be, whether that’s his sorcery days or his curse user days, and he certainly can’t start over. so he’s making do with what he has—which is very little in reality.

it’s you, your home, and the biweekly visits from satoru and occasionally shoko. so he weaves you seamlessly into his life and treats you with a sense of normalcy you can’t hope to treat him with. maybe it’s because suguru was actually able to move on after he left. 

it’s the part you hated him most for. for building a family with new people. for having two girls that he raised as daughters. for finding people to follow him and trust. suguru, after he walked away from everything he ever knew, actually did something with his life—even if it could hardly be considered good. 

you? you fell deeper and deeper into a pit of denial until clawing your way back out was too impossible, until you had to leave behind everything you’ve ever known to get away from the remnants of his existence. 

it’s easy for him to weave you back into his life because he chose to cut you loose. it feels damn near impossible to let him weave back into yours after he tore himself from the edges and frayed away. 

“don’t do that,” you sigh, making him frown.

“do what?”

“you know what, suguru,” you pinch your nose in frustration, “stop acting like things are normal.”

“things are definitely not normal,” he snorts bitterly, “i think needing your approval to take the trash out is not equal to normal.”

“then why are you acting like…” you trail off, unsure.

“like what?” he raises a brow. 

“like we never changed,” you slam your hands down on the couch in exasperation. 

he stares at you for a minute, blinks once, then twice, and then furrows his brows.

“well, of course we changed,” he mumbles in confusion, “i know that—”

you shouldn’t have said anything. you quickly realize that. suguru is not trying to act like things are normal—he’s trying to be civil, and you’re just a fool. a fool who looks too deeply into everything and assumes what you want to out of things and god, you’ve embarrassed yourself in front of your one and only ex-boyfriend in over a decade who was once dead and somehow came back to the land of the living.

of course, he knows things are not the same. he doesn’t want what you think he does. it’s been years and suguru has moved on—he had already moved on all those years ago, and you’re the only one here that is still focused on the past. and now he knows it too. 

you stand before he can finish, nodding as you stare down instead of meeting his eyes, pretending to adjust your clothes. 

“right, of course you do,” you nod, “i don’t know why i said that. just ignore me, i’ll be going to my room now. i have…things to do, so i’ll be—”

“hang on,” he frowns, hand grabbing your wrist, “i don’t mean it like that,” he says gently.

fuck geto suguru for being so confusing and fuck him for being nice about it too. 

“you can let go, suguru,” you pull at your wrist, “forget what i said, i wasn’t thinking—”

“i still feel the same,” he cuts you off, making your eyes widen, “if that’s what you mean. i never stopped.”

never stopped—that’s almost worse than moving on. how could he have felt the same all those years and still never come back?

“that does not help even a little,” you swallow the lump in your throat. “that makes this so much worse, do you see that?”

“i know,” he sighs, “i’m sor—”

“don’t say you’re sorry,” you grit your teeth, “we both know you’re not.”

“maybe not,” he admits, “i had to try. and that meant leaving—i’m sorry that’s not what you wanted.”

“it’s not!” you turn around, pulling your arm out of his grasp—suguru, for what it’s worth, takes the shove to his chest like a champ. “of course i didn’t want you to leave and kill a bunch of people and have an execution stamped on your forehead and live your life without me.”

“i know—”

“and now you’re back. back! in my house, eating my food and sleeping in my bed for half the night and i just have to act like this is normal. how is any of this normal?” 

“it’s not,” he agrees. he’s calm. so calm, it almost makes you mad. why is he so calm? “nothing about anything in our lives is normal. it never was.”

“you ruined my life,” you blink back tears. he smiles sadly, taking a step closer.

“i guess i can take the blame for that,” he nods, hands finding their way to your hips. against your better judgment, you lean half your weight against his body. this is bad, very bad—but it’s also the best thing ever. 

being close to suguru feels like the sun’s heat tearing through your skin—it’s warm. it’s pleasant. it leaves you parched and drained with a dry throat. but still, you need it to survive. 

“why did you come back?” you ask tiredly. his hand finds the small of your back, rubbing slow circles.

“i don’t know,” he hums, “i didn’t really get a say. maybe i was always meant to, who knows?”

you look at him at that—tilt your head to get a good look at his features. his eyes are more tired, and his cheeks are a bit more sunken in compared to the youthful flesh you remember him with. his hair isn’t as healthy, and his forehead has the slightest traces of pale marks from the scars. but he’s still suguru—and you have always loved suguru, even if he gives you every reason to hate him.

“you make my life unreasonably difficult,” you mutter.

he hums, smiling. “can i?” he asks breathlessly, pleadingly. you stare at his eyes, he stares at your lips. you know what he wants—but fuck, you can’t let him have it so easy. 

“can you what?” you ask, raising a brow slowly.

“are you really gonna make me say it?” he grunts, lips almost curled into a pout. it’s cute, the way he looks longingly at your lips—it’s so cute and beautiful and dangerous all at once, just like suguru. 

“yes,” you say, “yes i am. i deserve to hear it suguru, after everything you put me through. you…you left me. i wasn’t enough for you. i mourned you. i grieved a body i never even saw. do you know what that does to a person? to lose them not once but two times? the least you could do is tell me what you want,” your voice wavers just a little. 

it shakes for the lost time. for the moments you’ll never have. for the memories you lost. for the past that’s tainted. time is cruel like that. but that’s the beauty of it all—the fragility. it’s like sand falling through the cracks of your fingers, every grain slipping from your reach but still soft and soothing against your skin as it falls. everything fades over time, everything starts to hurt one way or another. but it stops. it heals. it starts over. the sand fills the cup of your palms again, warm and delicate and just as beautiful as before it crumbled. 

“can i kiss you?” he asks desperately, “please?”

“kissing me is not a temporary thing,” you shake your head, “not anymore. it’s for good. only for good.”

“i want to kiss you for good,” he nods, hands digging into your hips impatiently. you’re close. you’re too far. he can feel you, smell you, hear your unsteady breaths. but it’s not enough. he needs to devour you, taste you on his tongue, and melt you with his touch. “i won’t stop this time,” he promises. 

“you better not,” you sniffle, tears blurring your vision. you hated suguru for leaving you. you hated him for coming back to you like this. you never stopped loving him, never will stop loving him—and maybe that’s what love is. when the darkness is worth trekking through for the afterglow of the light. “if you fucking leave me again, you’re dead to me. i don’t care how many times you come back to life. you’re dead to me.”

“okay,” he agrees through a shaky chuckle, “i suppose i deserve that. let me kiss you, yeah?”

“yeah,” you breathe.

he kisses you—years too late, he kisses you. it feels like you’re teenagers again. it feels different and foreign. you know this feeling like the back of your hand. you don’t understand what this sensation is anymore. it’s new. it’s old. it’s perfect. it hurts. suguru is here. he promised not to leave—you don’t know if you believe him, but you’re going to trust that finally, for once, you are enough. 

you’re enough to make him happy. to give him a sense of purpose. to keep him swimming when his limbs start to sink. 

finally, for once, you’re enough. 

“i love you,” he whispers against your mouth, breathing the words into you like he’s offering you the air from his lungs, “i never stopped. i promise.”

“you don’t deserve to hear it from me,” you murmur back, panting against his lips, “not yet.”

“fair enough,” he chuckles, “you sure know how to leave a guy waiting.”

“i learned from the best,” you shoot back.

he grins—suguru smiles, heartfelt and real. life is full of misery, it’s painful, and nothing fucking makes sense. everything is cruel. everything dies no matter how carefully you water the roots. there’s always something, someone, ready to tear it from the earth. but if you keep planting the seeds, suguru will keep watering. 

maybe something kind can bloom from that, something big enough for him to hide under the shade when the scorching heat of tragedy becomes too much. 

in this world or in the jujutsu world; in this life or in the next. suguru is yours.

“why am i here?” he asks gently, his face digging into your neck. you hold him, cradling the back of his head as you hum. 

“because i need you here. will you stay?”

“yes,” he murmurs, “i think i’ll stay.”

hi. i have been working on this since march. its still not how i envisioned it to be originally but that's okay. i had fun writing it and it means a lot to me even tho its kind of. well....cliche LMAO like everything i write. but. i enjoy the cliches okay ?? i do. kxljchskdf hope u guys didn't hate it </3

also the fic banner is …. not the greatest. just ignore it ok

[vivwritescrappythings]

never have i ever

frankie morales x fem!reader

your childhood best friend Ben takes you on a beach trip with him and his friends from the army. you and Frankie seem to get along like a house fire.

a/n: Written for @yxtkiwiyxt Kiwi’s Never Have I Ever challenge (open til March 1). Thank you so much for tagging me in this, it brought me out of my writing slump!

tw: fem reader, afab reader, drinking, oral (f receiving), p in v sex, unprotected sex, creampie, dirty talk, dubcon, poor excuse for including he speaks Spanish, reader has hair long enough to grab, first Frankie fic so he may be poorly written, not proofread.

word count: 5.5k

MDNI

masterlist

—

The cool breeze carried the briny scent of the ocean, making the fire flicker as you stared into it. The bright light felt like it was burned into your corneas, but you couldn’t look away as it twisted and danced before you. You were already more than a few drinks in, your body warm and languid as you settled into the patio chair. 

You blinked, your gaze swept over the thinning circle of people before you landed on the man next to you. Francisco… or Frankie… or Catfish–you weren’t exactly sure. You tended to settle on Frankie.

Ben had brought you along to a get-together with his army friends and respective plus ones in Saint Pete: they’d rented a house that was just a ten minute walk from the beach. You had an extra pull-out couch with your name on it for just the price of some food and alcohol. It was a no-brainer to tag along.

“Hey, nena, it’s your turn.” 

His brown eyes looked like caramel in the firelight, his body angled toward yours as he spoke. You’d only met him yesterday, but he seemed nice enough. Definitely more of the drinking type, so you were peas in a pod.

“Sorry,” you breathed, wiping the excess hard cider off your bottom lip as you crossed a leg underneath yourself. You’d taken one of the blankets from inside with you, draping it over your shoulders like a cloak. All eyes were on you, reminding you of the hands that were held up, various amounts of fingers remaining. You still had all five. 

Never Have I Ever was a stupid game anyways.

“Um, well...” you tried to think of something that wasn’t pathetically uptight. You took a deep breath, your cheeks warm as you stared at the fire. “Never have I ever… been in a helicopter.”

You already knew the reaction you would get.

“Oh come on,” Ben sighed, his third finger folding over his palm.

“I’m literally a fucking helicopter pilot, s’not fair,” Frankie complained, chugging the rest of his drink as his last finger went down—hand in a loose fist for a moment.

The rules were shaky when it came to what to do when you reached the end of your allotted fingers, everyone had just settled on finishing their drink. Frankie grabbed a new beer from the cooler next to him, twisting the cap off and taking a sip before stretching his hand open again.

It was just the three of you left, the others having gone to bed but leaving their patio chairs and empty drinks like sentinels in their absence.

“Never have I ever banged a football player,” Ben said as soon as Frankie had his new drink open. 

You chuckled, rolling your eyes. “Now that is a low blow,” you said, putting your thumb down. Playing games like that with Ben was never fun–the two of you had known each other since you were kids. You could exchange pointed shots all night at one another if you wanted to. “And I hardly call losing your virginity to a benchwarmer banging a football player.”

The laughs at your expense made you scoff. You took a drink of your cider to hide the flash of embarrassment on your face. “None of us even knew he was talking to you,” Ben said, snorting softly, “we didn’t think the kid had enough fire in him to handle you.”

“Well, I was stupidly waiting for another guy but settled for the first boy who was nice to me,” you mumbled in a sorry attempt to defend yourself, your face warm from more than just the alcohol.

Ben hummed his acknowledgement, eyebrows lifting. “Oh yeah, this super secret high school crush that you refuse to tell us about.”

You could feel Frankie cast a knowing look in your direction, one eyebrow quirked. 

“Yeah because even though I’m over it you would make a big deal out of it because you know the guy,” you said, finishing your drink. You got up to get one from the cooler next to Frankie, hoping he would decide to take his turn already and change the subject of discussion.

Ben snorted, crushing his empty cup in a hand as he stood. “Whatever you say,” he acquiesced, stretching. Your gaze found the strip of skin that revealed itself as his shirt rode up, staring for a bit too long before you got a hold of yourself. 

“Well, crazy kids, I’m going to bed.” Ben crushed you in a side hug, ruffling your hair despite your sound of annoyance. “Don’t let Fish keep you up all night, he’s a bad influence,” he said, hand rubbing over the cap of your shoulder as he stuck his tongue out at the other man.

“Psh. Don’t listen to him, nena, I’ll take good care of you,” Frankie protested, his lip twitched into a smirk as he gulped his beer.

“I think I’m plenty capable of handling myself,” you murmured, waving them both off with a hand. “Goodnight, Bennie.”

He wished you both a goodnight before disappearing into the house, you could hear the squeal of the sliding glass door closing behind him.

You lowered yourself into your deck chair, shifting it so you better faced Frankie at an angle. He still had his baseball cap on, strands of his dark hair curling around his ears and the nape of his neck. His cheeks were rosy from drinking, his smile a bit broader now.

“Whaddya say we keep playing?” Frankie suggested, watching you open your bottle. The condensation wet your fingertips, your nail picking at the softening label.

You were still too wired to go to bed. If you turned in you’d just be restless and on your phone until you finally passed out.

“Alright, fine,” you said, tapping your fingertips on the metal armrest of the chair. A smile found its way to your face, your five fingers stretching out. Frankie did the same, you could see the calluses on his fingers and palm.

“Never have I ever… skinny dipped.”

Of course Ben had told the story—your group of friends had decided to go skinny dipping in the nearby lake. But the moon wasn’t even out and no one could see much of anything. “I was in high school and it was dark,” you defended, putting your thumb down. 

Frankie looked like he was the cat that caught the canary, drinking with you even though he didn’t have to. 

“Okay, never have I ever played strip poker.” 

He put a finger down. “Well I know what I’m making everyone play for tomorrow’s entertainment,” he said, taking a long gulp of his beer. “You’ve gotta let loose a little.”

Your face was hot, part of you wishing the ground opened beneath you and swallowed you whole. He loved to tease, his sarcastic tone making your stomach flip every time you heard it.

You gently shoved his chair with your foot, making it scrape over the paving stones. “I am loose enough,” you argued. 

—

A snort pulled from you, morphing into a too-loud laugh. The empty bottles were nearly overflowing the side table you and Frankie were discarding them on. Both of you had finished your drinks of choice and resorted to passing a cheap bottle of wine back and forth, staining your lips purple.

“It was only one time, and you have to understand that I was so damn exhausted,” Frankie explained, leaning toward you as he spoke. His laugh belied his attempt at seriousness, his dimple showing as he snickered.

“You fell asleep during sex!” You let your head fall back against the chair, looking at the stars above you. They swam a bit. “That is kind of hard to do.”

“It’ll happen to you someday, nena, and you’ll think of this conversation.”

You snorted, rolling your eyes as you snatched the wine bottle from him, bringing it to your lips. The glass was cool against your mouth as you drank a swallow, just enough to warm your belly and keep your buzz. More than a buzz if you were honest with yourself.

“Never have I ever had sex with someone to make someone else jealous,” you countered, a knowing smirk on your face.

Frankie rolled his eyes, scoffing. “I didn’t realize that Ben was telling you all of our secrets.” He pulled his hat off his head for a moment, running his hand through his hair before replacing it. “Gonna kick his ass as soon as he wakes up.”

You wet your lips, trying to cover your giggles. “In his defense, he never thought we would meet,” you muttered, leaning against the armrest of the chair. 

The fire was dwindling in the pit, casting tangerine-colored light across the two of you. Frankie said he’d put more wood on twenty minutes ago, but neither of you cared enough to actually do it. 

“Well, it wasn’t my proudest moment,” he muttered, shaking his head. “This girl I was kind of seeing had been flirting with this other guy the whole fucking time we were out and I just lost it. Got a different girl to very publicly go to the bathroom with me.”

“So not only were you disgusting—you were disgusting in the bathroom of some bar?” 

“Hey, hey, no need to judge me so hard,” he said, putting both hands up like he was pretending to be innocent.

Your eyes narrowed slightly, evaluating him. He had a similar relaxed posture, slumped against his chair in his white shirt and gray sweatpants. It was a miracle that he hadn’t spilled any wine on himself yet.

“I’ve just never been so desperate for someone’s attention,” you said, sitting mightily on your high horse.

That made Frankie guffaw, sitting up suddenly. “Oh yeah? Never have I ever had a crush on my childhood neighbor,” he said, a shit eating grin on his face as he scratched at the patchy beard on his jaw.

You could feel yourself stiffen, giving yourself away without meaning to. “I… I do not have a crush on Ben,” you protested, crossing your arms over your chest. 

“Oh sure you don’t, nena,” he said, making you want to reach out and smack him. “Oh Bennie this and oh Bennie that, the only way it would be more obvious is if you had big fucking hearts in your eyes… well obvious to everyone except him.”

Apparently your embarrassment was loud and clear anyways, your attempts to be nonchalant failing miserably.

“Don’t be embarrassed,” Frankie said, trying to placate you.

You scoffed, standing up as you drank a bit too much wine from the bottle, the excess dripping down the corner of your mouth. “Don’t be embarrassed? I just found out that everyone has been watching me be a huge fucking idiot this whole time!”

He stood with you, hands smoothing over your shoulders as he crowded into your space. “I’ve got an idea if you’re game,” he said, catching your attention again.

“What?”

“Well… we could kill two birds with one stone, ya know?” It must have been clear that you didn’t know what he meant. “We can make Ben jealous… and cross something off your ‘Never Have I Ever’ bucket list.”

Your brow furrowed as you considered what he was saying. His hands rubbed down your arms, gently pulling the wine bottle from your fingers. He took a swig before setting it with the empty bottles, making them clink against one another.

Then it all clicked.

“You want to have sex?” 

Frankie laughed, his big hands finding the flare of your hips. “I thought Ben said you were smart,” he teased, his forehead bumping against yours as he shuffled in closer.

You clicked your teeth at him. “I’m drunk… so what’s in it for you then?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” he asked, a smile lifting his lip. “I get to have sex, that’s more than enough reason for me to want to do it.”

You let out something between a laugh and a sigh, shaking hour head as you lightly smacked his chest. “Men are ridiculous,” you mumbled, grinning softly as you looked up at him.

Frankie was smiling, showing off his straight white teeth in the light of the dying fire and blue glow coming from the in-ground pool. He moved closer, his aquiline nose nudging against yours. You were close enough to feel the warmth of his breath on your face, smell the wine he just drank.

“Just tonight?” you asked, one eyebrow arched.

He nodded obligingly, grin growing impossibly wider. “I don’t catch feelings.”

You were drunk enough to think it was a brilliant plan—it would be impossible for Ben not to jealous if he heard you and Frankie next door. The idea was foolproof. “Okay, then let’s do it.”

—

Frankie’s room was just next to Ben’s, the two of you giggling with bottles of wine in hand as you followed after him. He’d grabbed an additional bottle from the kitchen when you snuck back inside to have on standby, the remaining quarter of the first bottle still sloshing around in yours.

You stood on your tiptoes to kiss him as you opened his bedroom door. He grabbed you around the waist and pulled you inside, slamming the door shut behind you both. “Frankie!” you scolded between kisses, mortified that you were being loud.

“Waking him up is the point, nena,” he said, half carrying you to the bed. You rolled your eyes, holding the bottle for him to drink from before he confiscated both and set them on the nightstand. “C’mon, loosen up for me.”

He leaned down to capture your lips, messily licking into your mouth. You could taste the wine on his tongue, making you hum as you returned the gesture. 

“Get this stupid thing off,” you muttered against his lips, knocking his hat off and foraging your fingers in his thick curls. You gently tugged at his roots, making him groan as he smashed you into the mattress with his weight.

“Thought you liked the hat,” he said with a chuckle deep in his chest, pushing the offending accessory the rest of the way off the bed.

You desperately pulled him back to you, hitching one leg around his hip as his arm flattened near your head for support. “Fancy restaurant rules. Definitely not allowed in the bedroom,” you said with a smirk. He huffed his disagreement against your jaw, shaking his head as his blunt teeth scraped over the thin skin. 

It was messy. Tongues meeting and teeth clashing and nails scratching over fabric and skin alike. Playfully suggestive hums and giggles filled the quiet of the room. You were sure you were disrupting the rest of the house, Frankie’s bedroom right in the center of it.

The alcohol made everything so easy, whisking away your shirt and sweatpants before you even realized. You took Frankie’s shirt along with them, tossing it somewhere in his room. 

He nudged your chin up with his nose, his tongue flattening over your windpipe. Your breath tripped, eyes squeezing shut. Admittedly, it had been a while for you. Everything he was doing was making your head spin. 

The kiss turned sloppy with tongue as he traced his thumb beneath the waistband of your panties. Your manicured nails traveled over the expanse of his bare chest, following the soft ridges of the lean muscle and stray scars to the line of dark hairs beneath his navel. It was your guiding beacon, your fingers following it to the elastic waist of his sweatpants.

“Off,” you asked softly, snapping the elastic against the thin layer of pudge on his belly. “Please.”

He obliged quickly, pulling you up with him as he got off the bed to ungracefully shove them down his legs and kicked them somewhere into the room. Tight black boxer briefs hugged his quads, stretching as he knelt onto the mattress.

“C’mere, nena,” he practically growled, grabbing your thighs as he yanked you up onto his lap. You yelped, giggling as your legs bent at the knee and toes anchored against the duvet. His fingers sunk into your ass, dimpling the soft flesh as he held you close.

One hand skated up your spine, unlatching your bra easily. You cackled, leaning back as he pulled the straps down your arms and tossed it aside. “Didn’t know you were such a slut, Frankie,” you murmured, smirking as he palmed at your freed tits. Your nipples were pinched between his forefinger and thumb, making you arch toward him. “Unhooking a girl’s bra with one hand?” 

He muffled your words with more kisses, stamping his lips over yours. “That takes some practice–should I be impressed or disgusted?”

“You never fucking shut up, do you?” Frankie asked good-naturedly, nipping at your lower lip as one hand smoothed against the small of your back. He pulled you close, squeezing your ass as he leaned forward to devour you further. You tittered, your forearm pressed against the nape of his neck as the scoop of your palm found the patchy beard at his jaw. Your hips rolled into his, nose pressing against his cheek as you smacked wet kisses on him.

“I’m not well-known for being quiet.”

The world spun around you before your back hit the mattress, the memory foam absorbing most of the impact. His rough fingers pulled your panties off in a smooth motion, his palms finding the insides of your thighs and pressing them apart. 

“I’m counting on that,” he murmured as he kissed his way to the echo of your heartbeat, sucking small welts into the flesh of your inner thighs. 

You were stunned into breathlessness, propped on one elbow as you watched him map closer and closer to the ache between your legs. He breathed in deep as he hovered just above your cunt–something that would have mortified you if you were any less drunk, but it only made you moan.

The tip of his nose brushed your clit, making your pelvis jump toward his face. “You have a gorgeous pussy,” he said dreamily, the drunken slur finally making itself apparent in his voice. He parted your slit with his strong tongue, making your eyes roll back in your skull before he fully dove in. 

Your fingers clutched desperately at his hair, your breaths choking in your throat as your brows knit together. He made out with your cunt, a soft rumble in his chest making his mouth vibrate against you. 

Infatuation and desire consumed you, leaving you dizzy. His cheeks were flushed pink and his hair ruffled as his hands splayed wide across your thighs. You eagerly lifted your hips to his mouth as much as you could, whining as he lapped up the entirety of your sex, suckling at your clit each time before repeating the motion.

You found yourself thanking the attention to detail he was taught in the military: he picked up on every time your breath hitched or your voice became a whine and he made it happen again. And again. And again. To the point that you could feel just how soaked you were, not even the pace of Frankie’s tongue fast enough to keep your slick arousal from dripping to the duvet. 

You’d never been so turned on in your life.

“Fuck,” you keened, the word tight in your chest as the oxygen left the room. You gripped his hair tighter, hips twitching. The tip of his finger pressed at your entrance, making your cunt flutter around the temptation of being full. His groan was muffled, met by your own grateful whimpers.

His jaw went slack, framing the entirety of your cunt as he pressed all of his weight into eating you out. The swirl of his tongue churning his saliva with each motion made you want to die. 

Brown eyes met your half-lidded gaze from between your thighs. You were shocked to see just how pleased he looked, feasting upon you with the desperation of a starving man. Frankie had seemed like a lot of things, but a munch was not high on your list. Thank god you were wrong.

“You’re going to make me come so fast,” you gasped, almost embarrassed by how quickly you felt like your whole body was buzzing. Almost pathetically fast.

Steady presses of his tongue devolved into wet kisses sucked between your lips. You pressed the curls of his hair back from his forehead, a few beads of sweat dripping from his hairline. Soft lips wrapped around your swollen clit and sucked, bringing you to rapture as the tip of his tongue batted the sensitive bud.

It took one wet swirl around your clit to shatter you, your orgasm ripping through you. A wail escaped you before you clapped a hand over your mouth–even if you wanted Ben to know, you didn’t want to wake up the rest of the house. 

Frankie grabbed the fat of your ass with both hands, pulling your cunt to his mouth as he licked you into oversensitivity. He didn’t stop until you were twitching with discomfort, pushing his forehead away.

He sat back, his facial hair shining wetly in the moonlight before he wiped it off on the back of his hand. 

You were a panting mess, hardly able to think as he moved toward you. He massaged your buzzing skin with his big, warm hands, coaxing your soul back into your body. “You’re such a good girl,” he murmured quietly, his gaze steady as he watched you tremble. 

The compliment split you open, endless hunger spilling out as you reached for him. You knew you wouldn’t be satisfied without having him inside you.

You could see the outline of his hard cock in his underwear, your free hand rubbing over it as he settled between your bent legs. The feeling of his weight above you helped your lungs find their rhythm as you pressed your thumb to the wet spot at his tip.

“So I’m that good, huh?” he teased, his voice unsteady as he started to grind himself against your hand. 

Your laugh was breathless, your face on fire as you looked up at him. “I think all the booze helped, made me sensitive,” you said, your tone raspy and soft as your hand slipped into his boxer briefs. 

The way his expression crumpled as your fingers curled around his shaft was delightful. A self-satisfied grin bloomed on your face as you started to stroke him, watching him through your lashes. His hips bunched into your hand, his forehead dropping to yours as he let out a groan. 

“Shit,” he panted, one hand fisting in the white duvet. You relished in the way he already sounded wrecked. “I’ve gotta fuck you before you make me come in my boxers like some teenager.”

He grabbed your wrist, pulling you away from him before clumsily removing his underwear. The sight of his cock made your throat go dry, tip red and leaking. He looked painfully hard, curved up toward his stomach and a little to the left from a trimmed patch of dark, curly hair. 

“Hands and knees, nena,” Frankie murmured, playfully swatting the outside of your thigh. “Wanna see that fat ass of yours–been staring at it ever since you got here.”

Your face was hot as you rolled over, spine arching like a cat’s as you settled on your forearms and knees. He grabbed you by the hips, yanking you where he wanted you: facing the arched mirror on the dresser. The sight of yourself made your arch deepen, your chest pressed to the bed as you presented yourself to him like a gift.

“Jesus,” he groaned, softly smacking your ass before he grabbed a handful of the soft flesh, shaking it. There was something close to reverence in his expression as you watched him spread your cheeks, dark eyes focused on your pussy. His thumb gently ghosted over your slit in a way that made you whine.

“Frankie, stop teasing,” you said impatiently, glaring at him in the mirror.

“Fine, fine, calm down,” he breathed, his knees finding their place between yours as his cock notched in the cleft of your ass. He rocked there for a moment before pulling back enough to ease into you with careful rolls of his hips. One hand planted between your scapulae, the other clutching your hip as you both exhaled your satisfaction with every inch of delicious friction.

It took you both a few moments to adjust, your went cunt finally relaxing enough to let Frankie fit entirely inside of you. He shushed you softly as you whined, barely fucking his cock into you as he rubbed circles over your vertebrae.

You rocked back against his thrusts, falling into a steady rhythm as the sound of your sweat-dampened skin smacking together filled the room. His hand moved from your back to the nape of your neck, grabbing a handful of your hair and tilting your head to make you look at him through the reflection of the mirror. The grip at your scalp was almost comforting as you melted into the sensation.

“You’re so fucking pretty,” he murmured low in his throat, his gaze taking in every detail of your reflection. Your flushed cheeks, your parted lips, your lidded eyes. Your hair was twisted around his fist, ass jiggling with every connection of your hips. 

It was hard to keep your eyes open, moaning wantonly as you kept your gaze on Frankie. Your expression was pornographic–enamored and thoroughly pleased as he stretched you open on his cock.

He curled his body over yours, meeting you at his waist and shoulders as his lips found the back of your neck and shoulders. “Ben must be a damn idiot to not see how pretty you are,” he murmured, sucking marks into your neck. You were too lost in the pleasure of the head of his cock carving deep into you to respond. 

“Squeezing me so tight, nena,” he grunted into your ear, his hot breath making shivers prickle up your spine. His hold on your hair kept you in place. “This is the sweet little pussy of my dreams, milking me so good.”

Frankie kept running his mouth, spewing filth and praise that made you melt into a puddle beneath him. You were possessed with pleasure, almost drooling as you whimpered and moaned.

His hand left your hip, weight pressing you even deeper into the mattress as his arm wrapped around you. You sobbed as his fingers skated over your belly, pressing against your swollen clit and rubbing tight circles against it.

“Frankie, right there,” you gasped, fingers bunching up the duvet as you tried to breathe through the sensitivity, still tingling from your last orgasm. 

“Greedy girl…” he chastised, chuckling into your ear as he kept working your clit without mercy. 

Your cunt was fluttering around his cock, your sounds becoming louder and more wanton. He exhaled through his teeth with each thrust, his breaths sharp and punctuated in your ear. “Frankie,” you moaned–his name being one of the few words you could even think of. 

“That’s it, let ‘im know who’s giving it to you so good.”

Oh yeah. 

You were still trying to make Ben jealous. The thought had slipped your mind entirely as you felt Frankie’s cock press over every slippery ridge inside your cunt, setting your body alight. 

Who knew if Ben was even listening, if he was even awake.

You repeated Frankie’s name like a prayer on your lips, further and further gone the closer you got to your orgasm. He yanked your hair gently, making your eyes flutter open again to look up at him through the reflection. 

His lips were moving, cursing in Spanish as his jaw clenched so hard you could see it flex beneath his beard. You could tell he was close, too, starting to lose his steady rhythm as he sped up. Bruising kisses were pressed to your neck and shoulder, his cock splitting you open with frantic thrusts.

Then he started to beg, almost making you black out. “Come for me, nena. Come all over my cock. I wanna feel you come all over me, squeezing me so damn tight.”

His thick fingers were still rubbing your clit, coaxing you further and further to the edge. Spanglish filled your ears as he grunted and groaned, clearly holding back until you finished first. 

“Frankie! Oh my god!”

Euphoria left you strung out, ripping at the seams of your sanity as your pussy spasmed hard around his cock. Frankie turned your head by tugging on your hair, contorting you so he could smash his lips to yours as his hips started to stutter. You felt him pulse inside you, groans muffled between your mouths as his come spilled inside your cunt like lava.

You wilted together, exhaustion and drunkenness catching up to you as you collapsed to the bed in a heap of limbs and sweat and come. It would be smart to get up, to clean yourself up and go sleep on the couch. But you were already so comfortable, Frankie nestled close to your back as he started to softened inside you. 

“M’I sleeping here?” you asked, already yawning as you and Frankie lay on your sides. He reached for the throw on the end of the bed, yanking the fuzzy blanket up and over the two of you.

He kissed your shoulder, nuzzling into your neck.

“Of course, nena, you gotta come out of my room in the morning for this to work,” he muttered against your skin, yawning in response to you.

This. The plan. You could hardly consider it as sleep pulled you under.

–

The morning light woke you up, making you groan as you rolled over to bury your face in Frankie’s neck. He stirred as you did, a hand running over your hip to placate you as he pulled you closer. “Morning, nena,” he murmured, voice raspy from sleep.

You hid from the sun in his clavicle, the warmth of his skin seeping into you. “What does nena even mean?” you asked after a few moments, voice sounding muffled.

Frankie’s hand ran up and down your side, clipped nails making goosebumps lift on your arms. “Means baby.”

It was simple enough. Just a normal nickname.

But you felt your cheeks warm, a thrill running through you anyway. “Yeah? You’ve been calling me baby this whole time?” There was a kernel of bashfulness in your voice.

He let out a huff of air, still too tired to laugh fully. “Yeah, I have.”

Silence lapsed between you two, your breaths even and slow as neither of you tried to move away. It was too comfortable for you to want to get up.

“You gonna go find Ben today?” Frankie asked, a twinge of something in his voice making you lift your head up. 

You squinted in the sunlight, rubbing one eye with the heel of your hand as you fixed Frankie with your gaze. “Wasn’t planning on it,” you murmured, lips pursing to one side as you chewed the inside of your cheek. “Unless you wanted me to, of course.”

His tired smile soothed you, the hand running up and down your side inching closer and closer to your breast as he looked at you. “Nah, you should stay,” he said, thumb stroking over your nipple. He swirled it to hardness, heat already starting to pool in your lower belly despite your exhaustion.

“Okay, I’ll stay.”

–

Ben and Will drank coffee in the kitchen in the morning, nursing their hangovers just like everyone else. Most of the group was awake and in various levels of pain, Santi cooking breakfast and Tom still wearing sunglasses. Their girlfriends were laying on the couches in the living room, curtains drawn as they sipped cups of water.

A giggle could be heard from Frankie’s room, the creak of a bedframe. No one understood how you two still had energy after going to bed at three in the morning. But, lucky for them, Frankie was resilient.

“Did they keep you up last night?” Will asked his brother, a hint of a smile on his face.

Ben nodded, blue eyes focused on his coffee. “Oh yeah, and you owe me twenty bucks.”

Will rolled his eyes–betting that Frankie would wait until the end of the trip to hook up with you had been the stupidest thing he’d done in a while.

[empress-simps]

Uncle Padfoot’s Motorcycle

Pairing: Dad! Remus x Mom! Reader CW: Language and Remus who’s gonna face the wrath of his wife. Summary: Uncle Sirius takes baby Moony out for a ride on his motorcycle and you aren't happy about it.

Note: I’ve literally enjoyed writing this, and dad! Marauders literally make me hdiskskssjska ALSO THANK YOU FOR 500 FOLLOWERS YOU GUYS🫨🥹 I LOVE Y’ALL

"Sirius Orion Black and Remus John Lupin!"

Sirius could feel his soul practically leave his body as he saw you, in your ever angry form, march to where he is handing your year old daughter to Remus' awaiting arms.

This is it, this is how Sirius thinks he’s going to leave the face of the Earth.

"Erm, I have to go! See you next week yeah?" Sirius clambers onto his motorcycle, praying to any deity that he would fly faster than you hexing him with your wandless magic.

"Bye pah foo!" Lyra grins, her four teeth in clear display as Sirius looked back and waved, "See you soon, baby moony! Have to go before mummy hexes me to no end!"

Remus watched his friend blankly, deep down wishing he too was in the back of the motorcycle with Lyra so he could escape the imminent wrath his wife that was to rain down on him.

“Remus. John. Lupin.”

Each word you uttered was like a nail on his coffin. He tried his best not to wince as he heard how utterly cold and sharp you spat his name out. So, gathering up his remaining courage, he faced you with a smile- and he definitely didn’t place your squealing baby girl in front of him, making her somewhat his shield. He hoped the cuteness of Lyra would soften the blow quite a bit.

“Hi, darling! You’re back early- “

“Tell me I did just not see our one-year-old baby land in front of our house riding Sirius’ flying motorcycle or so merlin help me I will strangle you.” You warned, taking Lyra from his hands, who happily snuggled in your arms.

Well, shit.

There goes his only chance of living.

He offered a wry smile, ignoring how sweaty his hands had become. “Alrighty, I won’t tell you- “

“Remus! You seriously thought it was a good idea to let our child ride a flying motorcycle? She just turned a year-old last week for Merlin’s sake!” You scolded, poor Remus. Call him a seer because he can already see himself sleeping on the couch for the entire week, a few days if he’s lucky.

“Darling, Sirius and I made sure it was completely safe.” He tried to explain, “Lyra doesn’t even have a helmet! What were you guys thinking?!” You hugged your baby closer to your chest.

“Well, Padfoot said it’s unnecessary since they’re technically flying.” You scoffed in disbelief as you comforted Lyra who started to fuss. “Remind me to make Sirius fall next time I set his eyes on him on that darn vehicle of his.”

Remus could only let out a nervous chuckle. "Erm, I will."

“Why was Padfoot even here the first place?” You raised an eyebrow, going back inside the house to place Lyra in her playpen as Remus followed you like a servant who’s trying to regain your favor. “He also took Harry out for a ride. After that, he went here and told me Lyra should also experience it.”

You turned around and faced him, a hand on your hips. “I’m guessing Lily isn’t aware- because there is no way in her right mind that she would let her two-year-old son ride a flying motorcycle.”

His silence was the only thing you needed to hear from him.

“Where even were you when he took Lyra out for a ride?”

He blinks stupidly, “Outside, watching them.”

“You better choose your next words carefully Lupin.”

“I was supposed to ride with them, darling! But Sirius already took off when I was about to get onto the motorcycle!” He explains, hoping it’ll be enough to save him as he recalled the events from earlier.

“Pah foo!” Lyra grinned as she clapped her hands excitedly, her sandy brown hair that was tied in pigtails was swaying with every move she made. Sirius returned her excitement, bypassing Remus who answered the door and made a beeline to the squealing baby.

“There’s my baby Moony!” He lifts Lyra up from her playpen and peppers her face with kisses while Remus smiled, rolling his eyes playfully. “I’m starting to think you’re just visiting so you can hang out with my daughter, Padfoot.”

Sirius turned to look at him, smiling playfully as Lyra tugged on his curls. “I’m afraid so, Moony.” He then turned his attention to the child. “Now, who wants to go on an adventure with uncle Padfoot?”

Sirius’s eyes twinkled with mischief as he held Lyra aloft, her giggles filling the room. “We’ll soar over the treetops, chase the clouds, and maybe even race a few owls, eh?” He bounced her gently, eliciting more delighted squeals.

Remus watched them, a fond smile on his face, thinking that his best mate wouldn’t seriously do it. “Just make sure you keep her within sight, Padfoot. No loops or dives,” he added with a mock sternness that fooled neither Sirius nor Lyra.

Sirius mock saluted. “Aye, aye, Captain Moony!” He turned to Lyra, whispering conspiratorially, “Your dad’s just worried we’ll have too much fun without him.”

Remus didn’t even know how it happened, he just suddenly became aware of the situation when Sirius and Lyra were off, the flying motorcycle roaring to life as they took to the skies, leaving a trail of laughter, the faint smell of engine oil in their wake, and a faint ‘I fly, dada!’ from Lyra.

You sighed, effectively pulling him out of his thoughts. “At least Lyra’s safe, I know Sirius wouldn’t endanger his god daughter.”

You watched as Remus’s eyes softened; the worry lines smoothed out from his forehead. “Yes, Lyra is safe, and Sirius might be reckless, but he’s also fiercely protective,” he agreed, his voice carrying a note of gratitude. You hummed in agreement.

Remus tested the waters, “So… I won’t be sleeping in the couch, right?”

You couldn’t help but let out a soft chuckle, the tension from earlier dissipating like morning fog in the sunlight. “No, Remmy, you won’t be sleeping on the couch,” you said, your voice laced with a hint of amusement. “But let’s agree that any future flights require both parents’ approval, alright?”

Remus let out a sigh of relief, his shoulders visibly relaxing. “Agreed, and I promise, no more surprises,” he said earnestly, reaching out to take your hand.

Just then, Lyra’s babbling caught your attention, and you both turned to see her playing with a small, plush fox, looking eerily similar to your animagus form that Sirius must have sneaked into her playpen.

“Maybe we can’t protect her from everything, but we can make sure she knows she’s loved and safe,” you mused aloud, watching Lyra.

Remus nodded, his eyes reflecting the same sentiment. “That’s all we can do,” he agreed. “And maybe teach her a few tricks so she can outfly Sirius one day,” he added with a wink.

You glared at him playfully, then laughed, imagining a future where Lyra, with her inherited Marauder’s cunning, would indeed give Sirius a run for his money. “Now that’s a plan I can get behind,” you said with a smile.

As the night drew on, the house filled with the soft sounds of a family at peace. The day’s adventures were recounted with laughter and gentle teasing, and plans for a grounded tomorrow were made. And in that moment, all was well in the world of magic and mischief.

[carmenberzattosgf]

ok but like. what do u think carm’s take on (consensual obvs) free use would be. just a little thought :O

( this is from March 28th I deeply apologize for the length of time this rotted)

Carmy would be SO hesitant to try it. Even with a safe word in place Carmy would be scared to hurt you. It would take ages of you and him talking about it for him to agree, but the circumstances have to be very specific.

As unhinged as this may sound, I see this playing out for the first at the restaurant. You have one job, and that is to sit in his office for whenever he wants to have you. You both sit down and plan it out the night before so you would be completely in the know about the situation.

He brings you with him to the Bear the next day. Carmy’s always the first one there, so there’s no chance of anyone seeing you walk in with him.

You’ve got everything you need in a backpack with you as Carmy walks you into the office. A water bottle, snacks, your laptop, and any other little things you might need. ( for horny purposes I’m imaging a small love seat of some kind nestled in the corner of the office.)

You sit down on the loveseat and pull out your computer; the show you want to binge is already pulled up and ready. Carmy on the other hand sits at his desk to check his emails, making sure everything looks in order for service tonight. The comfortable silence in the restaurant ends as you hear the back door open. Carmen hops up out of his chair and walks over to you, leaning down to kiss your head.

“Gotta get out there now, baby. No one will come in here; the staff’s not suppose to without asking me first. You sure you’re okay with this?”

“Mhm! I would just be sitting at home doing the same thing, anyways. This way, I can make myself useful for you.”

It’s not even half way though prep when Carmy walks back into the office. As soon as he closes the door and locks it, you quickly put your laptop down beside the love seat.

He’s mad about something. You can tell by the way his fists are clenched at his sides. He makes his way to stand in front of where you sit. All you do is look up at him expectantly, not daring to say the first word.

“What are you waiting for? Go ahead.” He mutters, gesturing to his waistband. You make quick work of his pants. Carmy doesn’t bother to kick them off; he would need to get back in the kitchen fast anyway. You press your palm to the growing length in his underwear. A shaky breath leaves his lips as he watches you.

“Did something upset you, Carm?” You gaze up at him wide-eyed, like you weren’t eye level with his dick, palming him.

Carmen finally unclenches one of his palms, bringing it up to cup your chin. “I don’t think asking questions was part of the deal. Hurry up and get your mouth on me.” He lets go of your chin and glances over to the clock on his desk. Carmy doesn’t want to take too much time. If he is gone too long, it’ll look suspicious.

You start how you always do, with your hands running up his strong thighs. You lean in and mouth over his boxers. That doesn’t last long, though, before Carmy threads a hand through your hair to pull your head back. His other hand shoves down his waistband, freeing his cock.

“Open. Open up nice and wide for me.” There’s no hesitation on your part as you let your mouth fall open wide, sticking your tongue out for him. “That’s it. Perfect,” he rasps. You look up at him, breathing heavily, when he presses into your mouth. You whine around his length as the salty taste of him overwhelms your tastebuds.

He doesn’t force his cock down your throat, no; you do that all on your own. You make it your mission to take him all the way down your throat, and you do just that. Tears well up in your eyes when your nose juts against his pelvis. Your mouth repeats this motion several times, hollowing your cheeks while you take him as deep as you can.

Carmy looks down at you with his bottom lip between his teeth. He’s breathing heavily through his nose. Seeing you with his cock in your mouth, drool spilling from your lips as you bob your head captivates Carmy. He would let you suck his dick all day if you wanted to. He’d let you sit at his feet and keep him warm with your mouth while he does paperwork.

There’s no time to be thinking about that now, though. Carmen’s eyes dart over to the clock on his desk once again. He’s already been in here for too long. He has too much shit in the kitchen to do.

With two hands, he pushes your hair back, holding your head in his hands. Carmy pushes you off of his length, letting you gasp for air. “Shit, you look so pretty, drooling for my cock,” he mumbles. A string of spit still connects your bottom lip to the head of his cock. Your lips are swollen and red. “Such a pretty little plaything. M’ gonna fuck your mouth. I don’t have time for you to blow me.”

Carmy pauses for a moment, raising his eyebrows. Despite the whole “free use” thing, he’s still trying to make sure you’re okay with this.

“P-please. Want you to cum down my throat.” Your jaw falls slack, just like before, waiting for him.

Carmy adjusts his grip to firmly hold the back of your head. He doesn’t go easy on you when he starts fucking your face. In every single thrust, his cock hit the back of your throat. You keep as quiet as you can, but you can’t help the gagging noises as you try to breathe through your nose. Tears flow down your face in full now as you take what Carmen’s giving you.

It doesn’t take but a minute of Carmy fucking your throat in earnest before he spills in your mouth with a low gravely moan. He pulls out of your mouth, watching you closely to make sure you’re still all good. Knowing he’s studying your every movement, you decide to put on a show. You open your mouth, letting Carmen see his cum sitting on your tongue, before swallowing it down.

“Fuck—I gotta get back to work,” Carmy tucks himself into his pants and is out the door within seconds, leaving you back to your tv show.

It’s quite awhile before Carmy walks back in the room again. It must be busy out there. The chaos in the kitchen is loud and clear from behind the closed door. You can just barely make out Carmen’s voice giving orders to his staff.

This time when he opens the door, he closes it with a loud slam. “Take off your clothes,” he commands, not even a second after stepping in the room.

As soon as your clothes are off, he’s pushing his pants down to free his cock. The love seat is small, but Carmen makes it work, climbing on top of you, and lining up with your core. He presses in to the hilt in one fast thrust, making a whine leave your lips.

“You’re so fucking wet, sweetheart. Did sucking my cock really turn you on that much? Poor thing, I left you all needy didn’t I?” His voice has an edge of mocking in it. “Well let’s hope you cum before i do, because I gotta be quick. Richie fucking over booked the reservations, making my night absolute hell.”

Carmy sets a merciless pace. His goal is clear, make himself cum. You’re starting to get too loud for his liking, whimpering every time the head of his cock hits that spongy spot inside of you. Without a second thought, Carmy presses a palm over your mouth, muffling your noises.

“Do you want everyone to know I’m using you as a fuck toy in here? What would they think, hmm?” You shake your head quickly; the idea is mortifying. “No? Then be quiet.”

Carmy fucks you within an inch of your life. He has mercy on you, removing his palm from your mouth and placing his thumb on your clit to rub fast circles. That pushes you over the edge, pulsing around Carmy’s cock. He spills inside of you a moment later.

The rest of the night goes by fast. The next time he comes in, he kneels in front of you. He doesn’t say a word as he laps at your center, bringing you to orgasm within minutes.

By the end of service, you’ve fallen asleep on the loveseat, curled in on yourself wearing one of Carmy’s sweaters. When Carmen walks in and sees your sleeping frame, he walks back out. He knows you wouldn’t have minded if he fucked you while you slept, but he just doesn’t feel right about it. He had already put your though the ringer.

You wake up, groggy and disoriented to the feeling of being carried. “Carm?”

“Hey baby. I’m just carrying you to the car. You did so good for me tonight. Proud of you.”

“Oh- I didn’t mean to fall asleep. M’sorry.”

“You need your rest, my love. Don’t apologize. Let me get you home, and get you in bed so you can get some sleep.”

[fear-is-truth]

how about the evans and how they react if they’re having a hard time with getting hard one night for some reason lol

⋆𐙚 ₊ the evans… having trouble gettin’ it up .ᐟ

ft. tate langdon ‧ kit walker ‧ james patrick march ‧ kai anderson | content warning: mention of murder

a/n: i love your mind. love it

⟢ 𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐃𝐎𝐍.

insecure as hell. tate would immediately spiral if he couldn’t get hard, thinking it’s a reflection of his feelings toward you or that he’s not good enough. he’d probably blame it on something else entirely—like his antidepressants (which he’s not even on, but he’s a liar lol).

would shut down or get defensive, saying things like, “it’s not you, inswear, i don’t know what’s wrong with me.” he’s terrified that you’ll think he’s not attracted to you anymore or that it means he’s not invested in the relationship.

the reassurance you’d have to give him would be important to make him feel like it’s okay and not a big deal. tate would probably even apologise multiple times, thinking it’s somehow his fault, but deep down, he just needs to hear that you understand.

⟢ 𝐊𝐈𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐋𝐊𝐄𝐑.

kit would handle it with humour. he’d try to make light of the situation, brushing off his embarrassment with a joke like, “guess this is a sign i should quit smoking, huh?” or “maybe i need more sleep, i’ve been working way too much.” he’d definitely avoid making a big deal out of it, trying to keep the mood light so you don’t feel like it’s uncomfortable.

even when he’s joking, he’d quickly follow it up with something like, “it’s not you suga’. i’m just tired, is all. let’s just relax, yeah?”

would definitely want to get physically close again without any pressure. he’d suggest cuddling or doing something non-sexual to remind you that he’s still connected to you and cares, even if things aren’t going exactly as planned in the bedroom. :,)

⟢ 𝐉𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒 𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐇.

why do i feel like he’d murder someone to get hard.

james is a man of action. in his mind, everything can be fixed with a little… bloodshed. “perhaps all i need is a little inspiration,” he’d purr, already reaching for his gloves and heading to find an unfortunate victim. he’d return looking way too pleased with himself, claiming he felt “rejuvenated” (because what’s better than committing a crime of passion to reignite the passion?).

he’d turn it into a twisted declaration of love. somehow, this would all end with him professing his undying devotion to you. “what is my pride, my soul, if it means pleasing you?” (completely glossing over the fact that his coping mechanism just involved committing homicide.)

“you do inspire me, my love. it seems my earlier lapse has been remedied—shall we?” because, ofc, in true james fashion, he has to make it theatrical.

⟢ cult leader .ᐟ 𝐊𝐀𝐈 𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍.

if kai couldn’t get hard, his ego would take a serious hit, and he wouldn’t handle it well. his whole thing is about masculinity and control, so any loss of that would send him into a tailspin. he’d get defensive and PISSED. so his first instinct would be to project it all onto you.

assumes that you’d see this as some sign of failure on his part and take it personally, even if you hadn’t said anything to imply that.

would tell you that you’re simply “not turning him on” or “he’s just not in the mood,” bc there’s nothing more dangerous than a humiliated man lol.

he’d try to regain control of the situation. if he’s still upset, he’d get a little cold or distant. later, he’d try to turn things around by controlling the narrative, either with a dominant act or by shutting down any attempt at discussing it.

[goodbuckcharlie]

I made it | Jack Hughes

Summary: Jack was Lucy’s first love, they dated in high school but broke up when Jack left for the NHL. After a long debate with a certain older Hughes brother, Lucy decided to invite Jack to her broadway debut, but she didn’t expect him to actually show up.

Warnings: cussing

Notes: well I know I said I would work on the Cole story but I’m kinda stuck rn and this idea came to me. It’s a little shorter than I hoped but I think this one may be my favorite. Also italics means it’s a flash back

Lucy doesn’t even know what she’s doing. She just got the news that she landed her dream role as Elphaba on broadway. Her high school dream just in arms reach. Her thumb floats over his caller id.

Jacky💕

She never had the heart to delete his contact. Not even the guts to change his name. Despite him breaking her heart, he was the one who supported her dreams the most.

It was opening night of her Senior musical. The school musical was Shrek and Lucy was playing Fiona. She kept looking in the crowd, hoping to see a glimpse of her parents, but every time she looked she slowly lost hope. But that dread was quickly replaced with joy as she saw her boyfriend and his family take their seats in the front row. Ellen and Jim were dressed up nice, Jack was dressed nice as well, but his hair definitely shows that he just got out of the shower after practice. Luke on the other hand, let’s just say Lucy was just happy he was there.

At the end of the performance, as she took her bow, Jack was cheering for her so loud that you would have thought he was at a sporting event. Lucy couldn’t help, but blush. Well as much blushing she can do under her green face paint.

Once the curtains close, Lucy rushes out of her costume to see Jack as soon as possible. When she leaves the theater room, she is greeted by Jack holding a bouquet of sunflowers, her favorite flowers.

“You came!!” She pulls Jack into a hug who quickly saved the flowers from being smushed by raising them above his head. He laughs at her excitement.

“Of course I made it.” He kisses her forehead before looking in her eyes, “I’m your number one fan.”

She couldn’t bring herself to call him, but part of her knew she needed to tell someone from that time of her life.

“Hello, who is this?” Of course he didn’t have her number saved.

“This was a bad idea, I shouldn’t have called.” She goes to hang up, but luckily, Quinn recognizes her voice.

“Lucy?! What’s wrong?” She takes a deep breath, before talking to Quinn.

“I’m sorry to bother you Quinn, I just need to tell someone , but I couldn’t bring myself to call him, not after how we left things off.” Lucy holds in her tears.

“Hey you may not be with him anymore, but you are still like a little sister to me.” Quinn’s words brought comfort to Lucy, calming her down. “You can always talk to me.”

One last deep breath, Lucy lets it all go. “Quinn, I’m going to be on broadway.”

“Wait for real!? This is amazing Lulu.”She smiles at the use of the nickname she hasn’t heard for a long time. “What date is opening night, I’ll totally buy a ticket to see it.”

“March 6th, but I already checked your schedule, and you are busy Mr. Captain.” Since this was the first time she talked to Quinn since the break up, it’s the first time she has called him captain. “But it would be knowing someone in the crowd was there for me, besides my brother.”

“You know someone who doesn’t play that day and would drop anything to see you.” She knows exact who she’s talking about.

“No Quinn, I doubt Jack wants to see me after 5 years. He has better things to do.” She still can’t believe it has been this long. “He was the one who broke up with me remember?”

“He misses you Lulu.” She shakes her head in disbelief. She’s seen Jack’s public life, he’s dated other girls, he’s out partying with his friends on the off season, and most importantly he is being successful in the NHL. “You have no idea how many time I’ve been on phone with Jack basically having this exact conversation. Every important game he calls me asking if he should invite you. I always tell him yes, but evidently he never goes through with it.”

“I’ve actually been to a few games believe it or not, last game I went to was the infamous Hughes bowl.” She couldn’t afford the lower bowl seats, but even in the nose bleeds she was supporting Jack, the Hughes brothers.

“Never let Jack know that, he’ll get so upset that you paid to watch him play. Knowing him he would try and figure out how much you spent in total, then would pay you back.” She laughs knowing that would exactly what Jack would do.

“He would also get mad if he knew I bought my own jersey.” She looks over in her closet and sees her number 86 Devils jersey that almost taunts her. “I wear it every game day.”

The two are silent for a little bit before Quinn speaks up. “What if I buy Jack a ticket and send it to him. I won’t tell him about this conversation. He can decide for himself if he goes or not but I can guarantee once he sees that you are performing, he will drop everything to see you.”

“I can’t tell you what to do with your money Quinn , but I can ask that you don’t waste your money.”

“How about this, we make a bet, the Lucy I remember always loved a good bet,” Lucy was very competitive in high school (she still is competitive but she would never tell anyone about that) “If Jack goes, you have to give him another chance . If he doesn’t go, I will never bother you about Jack again.”

“You know what you have a deal.” After making the deal, the two stay on the phone catching up for an hour. They talk about how the team is doing, how Ellen and Jim are and how much they also miss Lucy. They also talked about how Lucy got the role. Overall, Lucy was just glad to talk to one of the Hughes again.

During his lunch time the next day, Jack got a text from Quinn.

Qball- Don’t fuck it up this time.

There was a link attached. So out of curiosity, Jack opened the link and saw it was a ticket to see Wicked on broadway. He immediately send Quinn a text back questioning what he means.

Qball- Look up the cast idiot.

Jack looks up the cast after he rolls his eyes at his brother. But when he saw Lucy’s name in big letter next to Elphaba, his heart feels like it stopped.

Qball- she wants you to go, but was too scared to ask you herself.

Jack😎- It’s been so long, what would I even say to her when I saw her?

Qball- the truth. You love her Jack and I can’t guarantee she feels the same but she does deserve the closure you never gave her.

Jack😎- after all this time maybe it’s best if I just left her alone.

Qball- I can’t make you go but if you don’t please at least give the ticket to Luke or even mom. Lucy deserves to have someone there to support her.

Jack😎- I’ll think about it, but thanks for letting me know.

Jack let’s put a groan and puts his head down trying to think.

“What’s up with him?” Jack forgot that he was with his team mates but he quite frankly didn’t care. Not even as Luke grabs his phone.

“Oh shit is this for real.” Jack groans again. “Damn dude Lucy looks hot as fuck.”

Jack’s head shoots up and he glares at Luke.

“What, on the cast list there’s a link to her Instagram. And I’m just stating facts look.” Luke hands Jack back his phone and he sees that Luke was right. Lucy had gotten rid of her braces and glasses which he also found adorable, but there was something about her matured look that made Jack awe struck.

“Who’s Lucy?” Nico asks looking over Jack’s shoulder.

“Jack’s high school sweetheart.” Luke says looking Lucy up on Instagram on his own phone. “Jack was an asshole and dumped her when he got drafted. He legit dumped her over text.”

“That was 5 years ago asshole.” Jack mutters

“She’s really talented.” Jack was playing a clip that she posted of her singing and everyone could hear it. “You really fumbled the bag dude.”

“You think she’s single?” John says while Luke showed him pictures of Lucy. “If so you think you could put in a good word for me?”

“Fuck off.” Jack feels himself getting angry but he doesn’t understand why, Lucy was no longer his, and he lost his right to get over protective of her years ago. He storms off out of the living room out to his room m. Luke follows him.

“Come on Jack, you have no right to be upset.” Jack knows Luke is right but he pouts anyways. “So what are you going to do about that ticket?”

“Maybe mom should go, you know how much she misses Lucy.” Jack says looking at a photo that Lucy posted for her birthday. It was a picture of her in high school laughing. Jack was cropped out of the photo but he can still picture the memory in his head.

“Did you not read what Quinn said?” Luk sits down next to Jack. “She wants you there Jack. She wants your support. Don’t you at least think she deserves that?”

“I do support her and she deserves all the support in the world, but she also deserves better than me.” Jack hold back his tears in front of his brother. “I remember the text her brother sent me. The day I broke up with her, I blocked her so I couldn’t see her response. A hour later, Carson texted me telling me that I would never find anyone better than Lucy and that I would have to watch in regret as his big sister became a star. Harshest words I’ve ever heard from an 11 year old.”

Both brothers laugh as the remember Carson, who actually looked up to Jack until the break up. Luke remembers being told to fuck off by the 11 year old, when he tried reaching out to Lucy after the break up.

“I thought in that moment, he was right. I still think he is right, I don’t deserve to walk back into her life now that it’s more convenient for me.” Jack looks at his desk where he keeps a picture of Lucy and his family after her first musical during their freshmen year.

“Yeah maybe you don’t deserve her after what you did, but there is no denying the love you two shared.”Luke puts his hand on Jack’s shoulder before continuing, “I’m not the best at advice so I’m just going to repeat what Quinn said that she deserves closure.”

“I just want her to be happy, Luke.” Jack cries as Luke holds his older brother.

A few months later and a lot of hard work, it was finally time for opening night. After hours in the makeup chair, Lucy was as ready as she’ll ever be.

As she is waiting to go on she can’t help, but think of Jack.

The two were sitting in Jack’s room as they often did. As long as they had the door open per Ellen’s request. They were watching a movie on Jack’s computer as the cuddled under the sheets.Lucy was able to convince Jack to watch Wizard of oz.

“So you are telling me there is a musical where the pink witch and the evil witch are best friends and it’s about how the evil witch becomes evil?”

“Yes and it’s considered to be one of the greatest musicals of all times.” Lucy turns and faces Jack, “One day, I’ll be that evil witch. Although her name is Elphaba.”

“And I’ll be in the crowd cheering you on.” Jack smiles before kissing her cheek, “plus you’ll be the hottest green chick ever.”

Lucy laughs to herself before it’s show time. She seriously doubted Quinn’s plan, but she wasn’t going to let Jack’s absence ruin her night. Because at the end of the day, her little brother was there and that’s all she needed.

Speaking of Carson, he was sat in the orchestra seating, Lucy wanted to get him front row seats but he knew how die hard wicked fans are so he said he was fine where ever he sat as long as he could see her. Carson also brought his girlfriend who just like Lucy was into Musical theatre. Lucy never told Carson this, but his relationship reminded her so much of hers and Jack’s relationship at their age.

Carson and his girlfriend, Macy, were quietly talking during the intermission when Carson realized who was sat a seat away from Macy.

Jack Hughes.

Carson got silent and Macy noticed as well. Of course Macy knew who Jack Hughes was and she also knew about the ‘asshole nhl player the broke Lucy’s heart.’ And with Jack’s appearance tonight and Carson’s reaction, the girl put one and one together. She grabs onto Carson’s hand to comfort him before the house lights dimmed signaling the end of the intermission.

At the end of the performance, it was time for final bows. When it’s Lucy’s turn to bow the crowd and cast all go wild in applause. Lucy looks for her brother and Macy in the crowd but gasps when she locks eyes with Jack Hughes.

Jack is standing up while he cheers her on. She sees Carson who is three seats away. Carson glares at Jack while cheering on Lucy and she hide her laughter at the sight .

When the curtains close and Lucy’s costars all ambush her in hugs, Macy prepares for the worse. Carson goes over to Jack who hasn’t noticed him yet.

“Car don’t do anything stupid.” Carson just ignores her and he taps on Jacks shoulder.

Carson looks very different from what he did when he was 11. He now had a mullet and an eyebrow piercing (one that his friend did in his garage one day much to Lucy’s disapproval). But he was also now 6’0 and had a scarier demeanor. Honestly Jack was only able to recognize him from a photo Lucy had posted on her instagram. Jack goes to say something but Carson holds his hand up.

“Save it, as much as I never wanted to see you ever again, she wants you here so I respect that you came.” Carson softly grabs Macy’s hand, “we are going to the stage exit to go meet up with her. She takes 20 minutes to get out of all her makeup and costume. If you finally want to act like a man and treat my sister like she deserves you are welcome to join us, but if you are only here cause your latest one night stand stood you up or something like that, don’t waste her time and go back to Jersey.”

Jack is stunned as Carson and Macy walk away, but he quickly regains his composure and follows after them. While waiting outside, Jack watches the couple interact. He sees grumpy Carson and his happy girlfriend who is trying to calm him down. He smiles as he remembers how grumpy he got after a bad practice or a bad game and how Lucy would cheer him up.

Actors and actresses leave one by one until it’s time for Lucy. She is radiant as she greets fans and signs playbills. At the end of the group of fans was where Carson ,Macy and Jack stood. When she finally gets to Jack she couldn’t look away.

Carson pulls her out of her trance by hugging her. Macy joins making it a group hug. The teens hold on for a second before letting Lucy go.

“You did amazing out there.” Macy was always star struck at Lucy’s talents, reminiscent of how Carson idolized Jack.

“We are going to head home, I’ll drive your car.” Carson says grabbing Lucy’s car key. He then looks at Jack and then back at Lucy, “Don’t do anything stupid, but also don’t be afraid to give him another chance. I hate to say this, but I always like how happy he made you.”

“Thanks Car.” She leans up and kisses her brother’s forehead before he turns to Jack.

“Don’t fuck this shit up. Break her heart again and I’ll put your ass on the long term injury list.” Jack nods as Macy pulls Carson away.

“Damn when did he get scary?” Jack and Lucy laugh. When the laughter dies down, she looks at Jack with the same adoration she had for him when they were kids.

“You came.” Finally she hugs him, after many years yearning for his warmth.

“Of course I made it.” He says returning the hug. “I so told you that you would be the hottest green chick.”

Playfully she shoves Jack who just laughs. To get away from the crowd they walk to Jack’s car and on the walk they catch up.

“So Carson lives out here now?” Jack recalls Carson saying that he was going home earlier.

“Yeah I got custody of him about a year ago. Mom passed away shortly after you left and dad just got worse. It was no place for him, so I took my dad to court.” She shivers slightly so Jack gives her his jacket before she continues her story. “I have no idea what I’m doing raising a 16 year old, luckily my neighbor helped me out and now Carson is dating their daughter Macy.”

“You know from the small interactions I saw them have, they remind me of us.” Jack test the waters and holds her hand, which she gladly accepts, “Speaking about brothers, Luke and Quinn miss you.”

“How about you Jack, did you miss me?”

“More than anything.”

Jack opens the car door for Lucy and helps her get in before he got into the driver side.

“So miss Broadway do you have any plans tonight or can I take you out to eat?” Jack says while putting his seatbelt on.

“ I have no plans Mr NHL.But if we are going out I need time order delivery for Carson and Macy” Jack pulls out his credit card from his wallet.

“Use my card.” She tries to decline his card, but he shakes his head, “Lucy it’s the least I could do.”

She sighs before calling Macy to ask what they want for dinner. After she got the response, Lucy went and ordered food for the teens. She tried to enter her card, but Jack snatched her phone and entered his card instead.

“So now that, that’s take care of. Would you like to go out to dinner?” He hands her the phone back.

“You know I could really go for a good burger and fries, that’s if your professional team of dietitians would allow that.” Jack smiles remembering one of his favorite dates with her.

Jack had just gotten his license and he was driving around in Quinn’s hand me down car. Right after passing his drivers test, he drove straight to Lucy’s house.

“So where does the princess want to go?” Jack asked as she got into the car.

“You know I could really go for a burger and fries.” She gets into her seat and Jack takes her to their favorite local diner.

When they arrive, the host seats them at their favorite table. While they wait for their food, Lucy tells Jack about her day.

“And in front of everyone my voice cracked, god it was so embarrassing, Jacky.” She hides her face at the memory.

“I bet you have the cutest voice cracks.” The love struck boy laughs as his girl rolls her eyes at him.

“No voice cracks are cute Jacky.”

“Well yours are cause they come from you.” Their food finally arrives and they both grab a fry off the other person’s plate. Something they have done since they started dating. They called it ‘checking for poison’ but it was just one of those silly couple things.

“I love these little moments.” Lucy says as she bites into Jack’s fry.

“Well we have a whole lifetime full of little moments waiting for us.” He says while eating Lucy’s fry.

“A burger and fries sound wonderful, Lulu.”

The two had dinner and it was like nothing changed. They shared food like normal, they talked like it was just a normal Wednesday dinner.

They finished their food and were getting ready to head out and of course Jack paid. Afterwards the two sit in Jack’s car, which was another thing they did often when they dated.

“You’re telling me that Carson became an islander fan after everything happened?” Jack chuckles at Carson’s pettiness.

“Yeah, he even forced me to take him to a game, where we met a few of the players.” She pulls up a picture they took where Carson was wearing a islander jersey and Lucy was just in a normal sweater as they stood next to a couple players, “One of the guys actually asked for my number.”

“Which guy?” Jack felt himself getting jealous.

“Oh Jacky I don’t even remember.” Of course she did after all she did give him her number. But she looks away from Jack. “Even if I did it was a year ago Jack.”

“You obviously do remember, you won’t look at me right now.” Jack doesn’t mean to be sassy towards Lucy, but let’s be honest, being sassy is in his dna.

“Why does it matter Jack? You’ve had other girlfriends why couldn’t I date someone else?” Lucy tries not to cry, but a few tears slip out, “Do you know how hard it was to watch you have other girlfriends while I stayed stuck on you. Yes I did give the Islander player my number, but I told him I wasn’t interested in a relationship. I told every guy that had any interest in me that I wasn’t interested. You want to know why Jack? Because they weren’t you.”

Jack stayed silent not knowing what to say.

“And now you just come back here like you didn’t single handed break my heart last time I saw you,. Oh wait I didn’t even see you when it happened did I Jack.” She cries some more finally letting all of her emotions out. “I should hate you, I really should. But tell me why I feel nothing but love for you.”

“Lucy, there is nothing I regret more than, breaking up with you. I was a coward, but please give me another chance.” He wipes away her tears, “Those girls were my failed attempts on forgetting you, but nothing worked. I know I don’t deserve it but please give me a second chance.”

“I don’t know Jack, I don’t want to promise you anything. But I can say, I’m willing to try again slowly.” Jack smiles and he holds her hand. 

“That’s all I could ask for.”

Between hockey games and Lucy’s shows, the two spent any free time together. Despite the busy schedules, they found the time to go out. Tonight, Lucy was singing the national anthem at Jack’s game versus the Islanders.

“Ladies and Gentlemen please welcome the star of broadway’s Wicked, Lucy Masters, with the singing of our national Anthem.”

The crowd cheers before getting silent for Lucy. She sings beautifully and when she hits the high note at the end, the crowd went wild. The song finishes, and she finally locks eyes with Jack. She gives him a little wave before she is ushered off the ice.

At the end of the game, the devils won 4-0. Carson ,who surprisingly wore a Hughes 43 jersey instead of his regular Islander Barzal 13 Jersey, was hyped by the win. He went into a rant as the pair waited for Jack to leave the locker room.

“Damn I miss hockey.” Lucy loves seeing Carson happy more than anything. She was glad that he decided to come, seeing it as a step in the right direction.

“You know if you aren’t too rusty at it, we can go shoot the puck together one day.” Both Lucy and Carson look over and see Jack. He pulls Lucy into a hug. “Hands down the best performance of the night goes to you Miss Lucy.”

“I am not so sure about that, a shut out game and both you and Timo getting two points? Much more impressive.” Lucy praises Jack causing Carson to gag.

“Come on Carson, let’s leave the lovers alone.” Luke comes out of nowhere and directs Carson towards his car. Lucy and Carson were spending the night at Jack and Luke’s place so they didn’t have to drive back to New York this late. So Luke was okay with driving Carson back while Jack and Lucy have a car to themselves. Carson leaves with Luke, but not until he sent a few menacing glares at Jack.

“Just so you know, the team chirped the hell out of me when Luke told them how scared I am of Carson.” To be fair, now that Carson is one of the best high school prospects of the 2025 class and has scouts coming to almost every game now, especially since he is a leftie, he’s a scary teenager.

“In your defense, his pitch is reaching an average of 88 miles per hour as a junior. I would be scared of him too.” Jack looks at Lucy and smiles as he sees her in his jersey.

“You look so good in my number.” He steps back and acts like he is taking a photo of her with an invisible camera, “Picture perfect baby.”

“Jacky you are such a dork.”She turns around and walks away while smiling. Jack runs up behind her and pulls her into a hug.

“I’ll gladly be a dork if that means I’m your dork.”

Jack had been miserable as Lucy was gone at a two week long theater camp. Luke thought if Lucy didn’t get home soon, Quinn would kill Jack. The day she was coming back, Jack sat by the door waiting for Ellen to come back with Lucy. He originally wanted to come with but he forgot to finish his chores the night before so Ellen made him stay home and wait.

When his mom’s car pulls in to the driveway, Jack bolts out the door, almost like a wild animal. Lucy gets out of the car and Jack tackles her in a hug. He gives her small kisses all over her face.

“I missed you, I missed you, I missed you.” Jack repeats this mantra as Lucy struggles to wiggle out of his hold. All the while, Lucy is dying of laughter.

“Get off me you dork.” It takes Quinn pulling Jack off to get Lucy free. He then picks up Lucy like a sack of potatoes and runs away from Jack. The boys run around, as Jack tries to get Lucy back.

“Quinn put the poor girl down.” Ellen calls out. Quinn puts Lucy down carefully and Jack runs over and grabs on to Lucy like a kid hold their favorite toy.

“Fear not fair damsel, your hero has saved you from the ugly ass troll.” (QUINN BABY DON’T LISTEN TO THIS YOU ARE VERY PRETTY) Quinn just flips off his brother before heading back into the house, “I think your hero deserves a kiss for saving you.”

“You’re lucky I find you cute, you dork.” Lucy pulls him down into a kiss. Jack can’t help but smile.

“I may be a dork, but I’m your dork.”

“You’ll always be my dork Jacky.” Lucy pulls him down into a kiss. Their first kiss in five years. Jack would freeze time and live in this moment forever if he could. Sadly time has to go on and the pair pull apart. “Let’s go home Jacky.”

Hand in hand, they leave the arena, full of hope for the future of their relationship.

[wangxianficfinder]

Fic Finder

March 23rd

~*~

1. Hi. Looking for this fic wherein wwx tried to prank lqr and the elders by acting like a Lan. It backfired because they thought wwx was possessed by Lan An, especially when jwy visited cloud recesses (almost causes a war between jiang and lan). For it to end, wwx pretended to be Lan An and said goodbye then fake fainted (as if Lan An left wwx’s body)

please help me find it 🙏

Hi! I’m from the recent fic finder #1. Unfortunately that’s not what i’m looking for because I remember it being post canon (meaning wangxian are already married). I also remember the Lans asked lwj if lwj still do lovers stuff with wwx (as they really thought wwx was possessed by lan an)

FOUND? Wei Wuxian is Definitely Not Possessed by CursedBlessing (T, 20k, WangXian, Misunderstandings, General Dumbassery, Humor)

#1 I think was deleted. I know the fic they're asking about and I can't find it either.

Number 1 is the correct fic, it's just Chapter 3. / Yeah, 1 IS the correct fic, op's scene is the entirety of ch. 3

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2. Hey, I'm looking for a wangxianfic, in which wei ying and lan zhan are already married. Wei ying goes on a night hunt with the juniors and gets hurt. I think it was a cut on the stomach with poison. Lan zhan cares for him but wei ying is almost dying. Lan zhan is davasteted and says that he can't wait for wei ying again. It was a completed work and I think just 4 chapters. Please can you find the title? With kind regards @smarti1997

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3. I'm not sure if this is something I think happened in a fic, or it really exists, but on the off-chance someone know what I'm talking about - the Sunshot Campaign ends differently with Wen Qing/Wen Ning in charge of the Qishan Wen, and as part of reparations(? Maybe?) the family vaults are revealed. Wen Qing warns people not to touch anything but JGS is too greedy and grabs something and dissolves in dust? And then WQ opens the real vault, the first was to stop thieves. Thank you in advance! @katonahottinroof

I know which fic #3 is talking about but i cannot find it either, gonna go deep dive on ao3 tho (is it that one where the wens have a secret passage into the throne room that opens only with wen blood isnt it. unless im mixing fics too)

FOUND! ❤️ Gentians in bloom by teawater (M, 251k, WangXian, XiQing, XuanLi, Canon Divergence, Political Marriage, Dysfunctional Family, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Hurt/Comfort, Fix-It, LQR bashing (not really), POV Multiple, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Eventual Happy Ending, BAMF WWX, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, madam yu bashing (again not completely), MXY Deserves Better) the thing with jgs happen in chapter 34

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4. Hi writing in hopes that someone remembers this fanfiction.:

i once read a fic where LWJ and WWX were stuck in the Xuanwu cave and WWX was i think on the verge of dying but then something emerges from the waters and gives LWJ a deal that if he gives up his voices then as an exchange he can save WWX's life which LWJ obviously does so his voice goes away but by the end of the fic Wangxian go back to the cave where LWJ gets his voice back because he once again strikes a deal with that creature giving up his immortality or something that has to do with him being worshipped for gaining his voice back. was a one shot that i remember clearly and was on ao3 platform also thank you so much cause this blog has bought me my favorite Wangxian fics.

FOUND! Outside Another Yellow Moon by Vamillepudding (T, 10k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, YLLZ WWX, Fairy Tale Elements, Hurt/Comfort, LWJ Needs a Hug, Curse Breaking)

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5. help. hey i am certain the fanfics in my memories exist but they keep on eluding me so there are these 2 fics:

A) the premise of this story was time travel where modern WWX travels back in time when other WWX is living with the wens in the burial mounds when LWJ comes to the borders with his modern counterpart and when modern wangxian meet they have a sweet reunion in which they share a kiss after that they are joined by the hip much to the mortification of OG wangxian. WY's parents are dead (car accident) but madam Lan's alive and he calls her mother or mom and modern them is engaged they also have their phones by which they click a photo and after coming to modern world WY sees that as proof that it actually happened. read it on ao3 muti chaptered (completed) with either 4 or 6 chapters 6 being maximum

B) in this one the main Lan fam is captured body swap between WRH and LWJ occurs and after LWJ realizes what has happen he commands that his body's head be severed which is currently housing WRH's soul and LXC and LQR are present to see that happening and grieve over LWJ not knowing WRH was the one who died and LWJ doesn't inform them about the body swap but tells the guards to take LXC and LQR to their rooms he keeps his own body's severed head in his room also. LWJ asks guards to bring him WWX which they do but injured and WWX sees LWJ's severed head and gets angry he also practices to be more like WRH so nobody suspects this is the most clear i remember there were also i think one appearance of WQ and some from WX and WC was on ao3 ongoing atleast when i was reading think over 5 chapter but under 10 the last i had checked (i was so curios to know what happens next but i lost the fic)

thx and sorry if its too confusing

5B)

FOUND? where the sky begins by Shializaro (Not Rated, 17k, WangXian, Bodyswap, Blood and Violence, Body Dysphoria, Dissociation, Rape/Non-con Elements, Crack Treated Seriously)

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6. Hello! This is for ficfinder, I have lost track of two fics, and would very much like assistance finding them again!

A ) an Addams family style modern au. I cannot remember the title, but Lan Wangji enjoyed the taste of Hemlock tea, Wei Wuxian always dressed in gothic clothes, A-Yuan keeps getting possessed, Wen Ning would die temporarily every now and then then, and the reason Lan Wangji went to Yiling in the first place was to find his mother (madam lan is alive in this one).

B ) Young Prince Lan Wangji fled the palace to avoid an arranged marriage, and met an older Wei Wuxian and traveled with him, keeping his identity a secret. Lan Zichen catches up with them after Wangxian have spent the night together (bottom LWJ), and Lan Zhan is taken back to the palace. Wei Wuxian returns to claim his hand, revealing himself as Baoshan Sanren’s heir. Fix ends with them watching their kids play in Lan Zhan’s mother’s garden.

If you can help me find these, I would appreciate it very much!!!! ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ @cullen-blue23

6A)

NOT FOUND🔒The Altogether Ooky WangXian Family by FluffyHippogriff (T, 72k, WIP, WangXian, 3Zun, Modern AU, Addams Family AU, Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, mostly because death can be overcome with the help of a little necromancy, Kid Fic, Comedy)

FOUND! lovely thorns and singing crows by isabilightwood (E, 37k WangXian, Modern AU, Addams Family Vibes, meet cute at a funeral, Madam Lán Lives, Light Horror, Curses, Possession, Fluff and Humor, Developing Relationship, Found Family, Weirdo4weirdo wangxian, Eventual Smut, Blow Jobs, Hand Jobs)

NOT FOUND🔒darkness there and nothing more by wvlfqveen (M, 21k, WangXian, Addams Family Fusion, Magical Realism, Body Horror, Addams Family Levels of Violence, Identity Issues)

6B)

FOUND! Beyond These Walls, the Heart Calls by wayward_wing (E, 13k, WangXian, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, Fluff and Smut, Adventure & Romance, Prince LWJ, Rogue Cultivator WWX, Bottom LWJ/Top WWX, Jealous WWX, LWJ Flirts, Sleeping Together, Masturbation, Slight Voyeurism, Anal Sex, Anal Fingering, Oral Sex, eating ass, Older WWX, Younger LWJ, Getting Together, Naive LWJ)

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7. Hi. I've been trying to find this Untamed fanfic which I bookmarked but somehow is not in my bookmarked collection anymore! :(. I think it's post-canon but WWX (of course) is injured and LWJ is helping him recover, told from LWJ perspective totally in-character where he has to remind himself to breathe. Once,wj returned to inn room, found WWX gone from the 2nd bed and he tripped over his own feet and was "resigned to the fall". Once he tucked WWX into his bed and sat at his desk to breathe.

FOUND? Always Light My Way by cqlorphan (E, 27k, wangxian, Post-Canon, Getting Together, Friends With Benefits, to lovers, wherein dual cultivation may be counted as a benefit, Jealous WWX, a little bit, Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining, Pining while fucking, angsty sex, Switch WangXian, Bottom LWJ, Service Top LWJ, Topping from the Bottom, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Coming Untouched, Dom/sub Undertones, the angsty sex happens in the beginning but they get past it dw, Oblivious LWJ, archer wwx, Smart WWX, Porn with Feelings, probably at least half of this fic is just that, Panic Attacks, Angst with a Happy Ending, Dual Cultivation)

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8. thank you again for this wonderful blog! loading up on fics for my next offline trip and i have one that is driving me nuts. I remember seeing the reference here awhile back but for some idiot reason didn't bookmark it. What I remember is something like this : its after canon - Wei Ying is back, its after Guanyin's temple - but Lan Zhan has a soulmate to get back to so leaves Wei Ying alone on the road. that scene in Untamed haunted me. does this ring any bells? appreciate any help!! @oldoni

FOUND! Boy Trouble, We've Got Double by saltyfeathers (E, 60k, wangxian, Post-Canon, Case Fic, betrothed to someone else, unfurling of wifexian scrolls: the fic, Pining, Unresolved Sexual Tension, (it gets resolved lol), WWX POV, Protective wwx, WWX centric, explicit stuff only happens between wangxian, (or wwx and his own hand), Masturbation, get wwx a fainting couch agenda, Alcohol, wwx has some brain problems in this one, Consensual Non-Consent, Additional Warnings In Author's Note, straight boy WWX)

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9. Hello! Please help me find this fic. I don’t remember much, but there was an OC lan elder, who is rescued or helped by Wei Wuxian. I am not sure but Wei Ying didn’t know he was a lan or something. Later on they meet again and elder favours or helps him. I am sorry for being vague, but this is what I remember. It would be great if somebody knows what this fic may be !

Hello, this is requester for number 9. I am really grateful for the person who replied but unfortunately I don’t think that it is the fic I am looking for. As far as I remember wasn’t QHJ, rather an OC lan elder. However I really love the suggestion and enjoyed the fic, so thank you for that!

NOT FOUND The Shadows of My Old Palaces, Falling Across The Moats by ChilianXianzi (T, 8k, WangXian, onesided QHJ/WWX, Canon Divergence, Burial Mounds Settlement Days, QHJ lives, Domestic, Angst, POV Outsider, Age Difference, Fix-It of Sorts)

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10. for the FF: it was a fic where wx are full time dom/sub (sub wwx), i dont rmmbr much except that theres a part where jc causes a scene fearing lwj is abusing him (bc fulltime d/s, he chooses what wwx eats, wears, etc) and jyl has to tell him to shut up and that her and jzx are in a d/s relationship too! i read it ages ago T^T its not "something so flawed and free" by verseau btw! thank u guys <33 love u all mwah

FOUND! rainfall by daltoneering (E, 37k, WangXian, Modern AU, Established Relationship, lifestyle kink, 24/7 D/s, Kink Negotiation, kink discussion, Communication, BDSM, dom lwj, Sub wwx, Top LWJ, Bottom wwx, Kink Exploration, collaring, Body Writing, Breathplay, Orgasm Denial, Bondage, Subdrop, Safewording, Panic Attacks, [Podfic of] rainfall by exmanhater)

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11. Hiii! I don't remember much except for the first few chapters, but the fic was really long. I think the plot started off as "What if the Incident in Qiongdi Path never happened?"

The first chapter or so takes place at Jin Lings one month celebration

Wei Wuxian is really damn depressed the whole time (he's really damn depressed the whole fic actually)

Jiang Yanli and Jin Zixuan never die. Yanli wants to spend time with Wei Wuxian and she makes some soup, but he gets spooked at some point and Wen Ning helps him run away back to the Burial Mounds???

At some point later on in the fic, Jin Zixuan and Jiang Yanli go to Cloud Recesses and they bring some food for Wangxian.

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12. hii :D im looking for a modern au fic where lz works as a in pharmaceutics and meets wy who is the tech guy of their apartment. he calls himself mo xuanyu and lives with ayuan and is trying to escape his past with the help of police officer nmj. i think there was an autistic lz tag in that fic too. it was so good but i think i forgot to bookmark it.. thanks for your help! @harapecowee

FOUND! Stop and Stay by Fantazy_Eyeland7 (M, 98k, wangxian, LXC/NMJ, JC/WQ, JYL/JZX, LXC/JGY, SL/XXC, WIP, Blood and Violence, Hurt WWX, Kidnapping, Torture, WWX discovering weighted blankets, Pining LWJ, Modern, FBI Agent NMJ, Protective LWJ, Emotional Manipulation, Toxic JGY, not JGY friendly, LWJ learning how to communicate, WangXian have competence kinks, adopting children, Bad Parent YZY, Protective JYL, Protective JC, Protective NMJ, Past Child Abuse, Precious LSZ, Baby LJY, Warning: XY, Blind Character, slaps top of WWX: This bad boy can fit so much trauma inside, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Everyone is ending up in well-needed therapy, Child Abandonment, Genius WWX, Obsessive XY, Yunmeng Siblings Feels, Eventual Smut, Bad Parent JFM, Junior Quartet Dynamics, (As Babies!), Implied/Referenced Suicide, sort of a slow burn, but not really, because they KNOW, they just can't, Good Uncle LQR, eventually) It doesn't have the austistic!lz tag, but everything else fits.

~*~

13. Hi! 🤗

I'm looking for two fics:

A) A fic where WQ makes a second operation with WWX and JC. The only thing I remember is that WWX is really in a bad condition and they ask JC to give the half of the golden core to WWX. He accepts.

B) I'm not sure if it's one o two fics that I'm mixing, but all I remember is that LWJ when he knows about the lost golden core of WWX, decided to make a second golden core inside him to give it to WWX.

Thanks for the wonderful work! 🥰 @wangxiansgirl

13A)

FOUND! The Fire Lapping Up the Creek by notevenyou (E, 66k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Hurt/Comfort, Canon-Typical Violence, Injury, Injury Recovery, Blood, Respiratory Illness, Major Illness, Fever, Grief/Mourning, Burial Mounds, Angst with a Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Hunger and food scarcity, Surgery, Fix-It of Sorts)

NOT FOUND! Twelve Moons and a Fortnight by stiltonbasket (M, 290k, WangXian, Humor, Slow Burn, Post-Canon Fix-It, Long-Distance Relationship, Epistolary, Love Letters, Family Feels, a-qing lives, teenage romance, Adoption, Romantic Comedy, Happy Ending, Weddings, Case Fic, Parenthood, Politics) might also be, (around chapter 43)?

NOT FOUND! in this place where we don’t have a prayer by Cerusee, Mikkeneko (T, 42k, WangXian)

13B)

FOUND? 🧡 Discarded by teawater (E, 178k, WIP, WangXian, Lots of Angst, Hurt/Comfort, YLLZ WWX, Golden Core Reveal, Case Fic, Depression, Family Issues, Self-Esteem Issues, Self Confidence Issues, Self-Worth Issues, Angst with a Happy Ending, POV Multiple, BAMF WWX, dubious morals in the Lan sect, Feels, Pining, Grief, Fix-It, BAMF LWJ) If 13B is different from 13A, maybe B is Discarded Lan Zhan creates a "seed core" that Wei Ying can use to grow a new core.

FOUND? these colours fade for you only by doodlebutt (T, 36k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Fix-It, Fluff and Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Everybody Lives, Golden Core Transfer Fix-It, ...eventually, Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares, bed sharing, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn, Sunshot Campaign)

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14. Im trying to find a fic

It was modern setting and maybe has cultivation still? wwx is a tattoo artist and I believe lwj saw some type dark energy out side his shop. So he went in and ending up saying he wanted a tattoo, wwx was who ended up talking to him about it and making him a design. I think it had something to do with bunnies and, then finally when the day came for lwj to get the tattoo. He’s like I’m sorry I never wanted one, wwx gets upset and tells lwj to pay him money in cash for compensation. Lwj does that’s all I can remember I think wwx might have adopted or least helps take care of a -yuan. @zerokogane

FOUND! Demon Ink by Jade_Valentine (E, 189k, WIP, WangXian, Flower Shop & Tattoo Parlor, Tattoo Artist WWX, Magic, Chaotic Bisexual WWX, Demisexual LWJ, background NieLan, Slow Burn, Angst, But substantially less angst than canon, Mutual Masturbation, Domestic Fluff, Welcome to my LWJ & NHS friendship agenda, Shower Sex, Brief mentions of past Lan Bro abuse at the hands of LQR, wangxian family feels, WWX is the Best Dad Ever, WWX's canonical abuse at the hands of Madam Yu, Blow Jobs, Slight Make-Up Kink)

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15. Fic finder request please!!

This is a short omegaverse wangxia? I think it might’ve been part of a series? where it’s Omega WWX and YZY gets him married off to LWJ where she expects him to be treated badly. Instead bc the Lana treat omegas very well, WWX is happy and content. Meanwhile JYL is jealous that WWX actually got mating bites and equal status bc Jin Zixuan didn’t even do that for her. I can’t remember anything else. 😅

FOUND!🔒Alliance AU by Ilona22 (E, 21k, WangXian, JYL/OC, Arranged Marriage, A/B/O Dynamics, PWP, WangXian Get a Happy Ending, Intersex Omegas, Not JC Friendly, Matchmaking, canon Jiang family dynamics, Family time, Night Hunts, Mention of male omega pregnancy, Intrigue at Jinlintai, Mentions of Prostitution, War, Conflict between characters)

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16. Sorry to be asking this(fic finder), I really don’t remember how I got to this fic but now I cannot find it but I feel like it probably was here

It’s a fic about how when wwx comes back to life he meets lxc instead of lwj in Mo manor. he asks for lwj and that confirms to lxc that he is wwx and not Mo xuanyu and asks him to go back with him to cloud recesses where he takes care of lwj who couldn’t heal after the 33 leash punishment.

At first wwx doesn’t want lwj to know that it’s him. He brings him bunnies and helps him re learn how to play the guqin(he cannot play it due to his injuries and because he hasn’t practiced since he was punished) lan Yuan helps wwx to learn how to play it and lwj starts being more active

Lxc is happy and let’s wwx go to a small one week vacation but lwj gets worse that week, he also discovers mxy is wwx I think

Tsm for the help🙇‍♀️

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17. hi! i’m looking for two fics:

A) one where wei ying lives with ghosts and is a teacher and runs into lan zhan for the first time in years during a class field trip

B) all i can remember is that wei ying wrote a software called yiling

17A)

FOUND! won’t take the easy road by twigofwillow (T, 47k, wangxian, JC & WWX & JYL, WWX & WQ, space au, yearning, found family, complicated family feels, ghosts, food, teacher WWX)

17B)

NOT FOUND Tempo Rubato by Spodumene (E, 107k, WangXian, Modern AU, Angst with a Happy Ending, Romance, Persuasion au, Separations, Mutual Pining, Depression, Miscommunication, Emotional Roller Coaster, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Reconciliation, Eventual Smut, Jane Austen Fusion, Underage Kissing) I think no. 17 might be "Tempo Rubato" but the software is "Stygian"

NOT FOUND The Fated Fortuity by devinokaze (T, 26k, wangxian, WIP, Royalty AU, Modern, Social Media, WWX is Wen Ruohan's son, Qishan Wen Kingdom, stangers to lovers, Prince WWX) The software is called Yin Tiger Tally and Su She tries to claim he wrote it lol.

~*~

18. Hello!! All good? I'm looking for a fic in which WWX becomes a god after his death, I think he's the god of death if I remember correctly. I remember a part where Madam Yu and her Husband (the leader of the Jiang sect) decide to reincarnate... I don't remember much, it's been a while since I read it, another thing I remember is that he communicated with Jiang Cheng through dreams. I already searched the Tag Deity Wei Ying | Wei Wuxian but I didn't find it... Thank you for your work!! @sweettiebah

FOUND! 🔒 Of Destruction and Rebirth by demoniqt (M, 88k, wangxian, JYL/JZX, major character death, rape/non-con, underage, graphic depictions of violence, Slow Burn, Canonical Character Death, God WWX, God Verse, BAMF WWX, Grieving LWJ, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Canon Divergence, Gods & Goddesses au, JC & WWX Reconciliation, Rabbits, Fix-It, Attempted Sexual Assault, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Canon-Typical Violence, Blood and Gore, Castration, Lots of it, repeatedly, Punishment, Hell)

~*~

19. heyy could u help me find a fic, I only vaguely remember the details

I read this quite a while ago, wwx is some sort of courtesan, pretty sure he works in a brothel, lwj is either a cultivator (like in canon) or he's a noble/king smth like that! he meets wwz in the brothel place and I think wwx is pretty sly, MAYBE he's wearing dresses and I'm pretty sure they get married in the end? I think someone in the lan clan is against wwx (either lxc or lqr) and I'm also pretty sure it's a pwp, they might have been conspiring too, it's all very vague! any help would be appreciated thanks!!!

FOUND! 醉 | drunk; intoxication by sweetlolixo (E, 15k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Mythical Creature WWX, everyone falls in love with weiying at first sight..., Besotted LWJ, Romance, Pregnant WWX, Fluff)

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20. Hi I’m looking for a fix where sizhui and jingyi travels back to the past (maybe to the conference) and they make commentary during the entire time they were waiting to get back to their present. I think in this fix, sizhui revealed that some of the people (madam Yu and others) are listed on lan zhan’s lists. Sizhui also mentions that lan zhan has several lists for different things. Also jinyi called Jin guangshan jin guangshit throughout the whole time they’re there. Thanks

FOUND? A Room Full of Dead People by BurningBlueDiamond (T, 10k, WangXian, Time Travel, Fix-It, but not really, Canon Divergence, Conference in Qinghe but canonically they stay in Gusu, strangely fluffy, POV Outsider)

~*~

[genshingorlsrevengeance]

Hi hello! I’m not the person who originally submitted the ask for the Genshin/Honkai girls with a G Gundam-style chuuni S/O, but I’ll be fully honest that one hit my brainrot something good and fierce. So what about Xinyan, Dehya, Navia, Himeko, March 7th, and Stelle with the G Gundam Chuuni S/O?

(Genshin Impact/Honkai: Star Rail)

Xinyan, Dehya, Navia, Himeko, March 7th, Stelle, and Natasha with a very dramatic S/O

Part 1 here!

@jjovin3221, here is your part two, courtesy of others!

Also, March 7th's part has my absolute favorite image I've ever made for this blog.

Xinyan absolutely loves S/O's over the top attitude!

Not to mention they had some killer pyrotechnics! Both their visions may be Pyro, but her lover's put any flame to shame.

The explosion they'd create alongside the absolute raw energy they exuded from their shouts was enough to motivate her and her fans.

Plus they had an amazing stage name already: The King/Queen of Hearts!

But that being said, she finds them a little too intense at times. All they cared about was fighting, but she did appreciate they made time for her concerts despite that fact.

...Wait, their whole warrior schtick isn't just a stage Persona, was it?

==

Xinyan watched as S/O effortlessly blew through a horde of bandits with blinding kicks and punches.

She could only watch in silent awe while they rapidly leapt from one enemy to another, everyone powerless to stop their rampage.

With one final kick, S/O sent the last bandit tumbling down a hill, while they crossed their arms dramatically, headband blowing in the wind.

One of the ones knocked to the floor by their punch tried to crawl away, catching S/O's and Xinyan's attention.

(Bandit) "W-What are you?!"

(S/O) "You look upon a student of the Undefeated of the East!"

Grabbing their collar, they looked them in the eyes as they reached for something in their pocket.

(Xinyan) "...Uh, is that a picture?-"

(S/O) "Have you seen this man?"

(Bandit) "Wha...D-DID YOU ATTACK US JUST TO ASK THAT QUESTION?!-"

(S/O) "Answer me!"

(Bandit) "ACK! N-NO! NEVER SEEN HIM!"

S/O tossed the bandit behind him like they were made of paper, walking back to Xinyan.

(Xinyan) "...S/O, did you actually want to ask 'em a darn question this entire time?!"

(S/O) "I did. Does that bother you?"

Xinyan was stunned, blinking twice to make sure she was processing S/O's actions correctly.

(Xinyan) "...A-A little, yeah! Why the heck did we beat the tar outta 'em just for a single thing?!"

(S/O) "Hm. They started it. Let's get back to Liyue, your concert will start soon."

(Xinyan) "R-Right..." Man, they sure do got a screw loose...

Dehya had met many mercenaries that had something wrong with them throughout her career.

But her S/O took the crown for the biggest psycho she's ever met.

When she first met them, she knew they had a dangerous air about them.

What she didn't expect is for them to be able to blow every single thing they came across into smithereens with just their bare hands.

Sure, a Vision allows you to pull some crazy stunts, but how does it ignite your entire fist into a golden flaming sun, which allows you to blow up things as if they were pyro slimes?!

She fell for them because of the kindness they could display, and how reliable they were, but that was when they weren't going off the deep end.

And these days, that was getting increasingly rarer.

==

Dehya marched into the ruins with S/O, both of them approaching a group of eremites who were holding a girl hostage.

(Dehya) "There's a lot of them in there. What's our plan?"

(S/O) "Flank around the sides. I'll go in the front and save the girl."

Before she could formulate another plan, S/O walked ahead of her.

(Dehya) "Be careful..."

She then watched as the Eremites immediately shot at S/O with arrows from their flanks.

S/O suddenly crouched down with arrows inside of them, which made Dehya's heart stop.

The Eremite's laughter quickly halted when S/O stood back up, arrows somehow caught between every single one of their fingers, completely unscathed.

(Dehya) "...What?"

S/O suddenly threw every single arrow back at them, each of them seemingly lethal as they instantly dropped dead, despite the fact they went through non-fatal areas of their bodies.

(S/O) "COWARD! IF YOU WANT TO FIGHT ME, SHOW YOUR FACE AND I'LL CHALLENGE YOU TO A DUEL!"

(Dehya) sigh "I'm not even going to ask..."

Navia thought S/O was part of a theatre group from Inazuma, given how over the top they were.

She was horribly wrong, and she didn't know if that was a good thing.

But it certainly made life much more interesting!...In a fiery explosion and screaming kind of way.

But Navia didn't really think S/O any less for it. She loved every bit of them!

...Even the more psychotic bits that would make everyone flee in terror.

==

Navia's bodyguards watched nervously as Navia loaded her umbrella gun.

(Bodyguard) "U-Uh, I know S/O's reflexes are good but-"

(Bodyguard 2) "Even with non-lethal ammunition, this is REALLY dangerous!"

S/O scoffed as their arms were crossed.

(S/O) "Do you really think bullets can even touch me?"

(Navia) "They're right darling, this is a spreadshot weapon at point blank-"

(S/O) "Then the King of Hearts will show you all! HIT ME, NAVIA!"

(Navia) "A-Alright...Three, two, one!-"

(S/O) "SHINING, FINGER!"

BANG!

In what seemed like an instant, S/O's hand began glowing a bright golden light as it extended out, melting all the bullets she shot upon contact, not even a single one getting through.

Navia and her bodyguards were beside themselves, unsure of what they witnessed even happened.

(Navia) "HUH?! B-BUT-"

(Bodyguard) "HOW DOES THAT EVEN WORK?!"

(S/O) "Hmph! If you think what I can do is impressive, then you should see my Master."

(Navia) "S/O, PLEASE let me meet him! I want to ask him how he can just defy the laws of physics!-"

Himeko at first was convinced S/O was just some kind of actor hired to be a live-action representation of Welt's creations.

But no, they were just inside a Mecha-like suit they had created, and could do martial arts perfectly.

...A little too perfect, actually.

Himeko wants to research how the suit works, but she's pretty sure S/O would drive their fist into her stomach and make her explode if she attempted.

Just like every enemy they've come across.

But other than that? She's not exactly too bothered by their insane behavior.

In her travels, she's honestly seen worse. At least S/O uses their power for good, and heck, they even liked her coffee!

That was good enough for her!

==

Himeko and S/O were strolling through the streets before they were approached by a hooded man, pulling out a knife.

She was mildly concerned by the thug, mostly for them more than anything. After all, S/O was outside their suit.

If they called it down, there would be hell to pay.

(Thug) "Your lady looks rich, hand over all the credits you got, or I'll gut you both."

(Himeko) "Is that right? Well, if I were you, I'd put the knife away."

(Thug) "Wha-Are you stupid?! HAND IT TO ME!"

(Himeko) "Oh, we'll give you a hand, alright. S/O?"

S/O raised their fist into the air.

(S/O) "COME OOUUUUUUUUT! GUNDAAAAAAAAM!"

S/O snapped, and the ground behind them suddenly blew open, shooting debris into the air.

S/O's clothes suddenly changed into a black skin-tight suit of spandex, landing and robotic parts suddenly materializing around them.

The thug was completely shocked by what he was witnessing, while Himeko watched with mild amusement.

(S/O) "HYYYAAAAGH! HYAH! HYAH!-"

S/O was now encased inside their mech, quickly throwing punches and kicks as their machine stabilized and checked if their movements synced up.

Himeko had a blank expression, silently thinking to herself:

(Himeko) S/O has done that every single time they've transformed, and no ones' actually bothered to stop them...

(S/O) "HERE I GO!"

With their warm-up out the way, S/O's machine crossed their arms as it stared directly at the thug, eyes flashing green.

(S/O) "This hand of mine glows with AN AWESOME POWER!"

Himeko tried to contain her giggle with one hand covering her mouth as the thug began blubbering in absolute fear as S/O's hand lit up the entire alley.

(Himeko) "That's so cheesy-"

(S/O) "IT'S LOUD ROAR TELLS ME TO DEFEAT YOU!"

They immediately grabbed the thug's head as they squirmed, trying their best to make them let go.

(S/O) "SHINING FIIIIIIIIII-"

(Himeko) "Okay dear, you don't actually need to blow him up. I think he gets it."

The head slowly turned to Himeko before a sigh came through the machine, anticlimactically dropping the thug onto the ground.

(S/O) "You heard the lady. Get out of here before she hands you back to me."

(Thug) "AAAAAAAAGH, YOU FREAKS!"

They sprinted away, almost tripping themselves several times in the process.

(Himeko) "...You have got to tell me how that suit of your works someday. Where does it even come from?-"

(S/O) "It comes when I need it."

(Himeko) "...That didn't answer-"

(S/O) "And I'm not going to."

March loved the walking mechanical natural disaster that was S/O.

Did they even make remotely any kind of sense?

Aeons no, but what in this universe really made sense when you think about it?

March takes pictures of S/O all the time inside their suit, pulling off awesome attacks and hanging it on her wall. It made for some really cool wallpaper!

She also likes to steal their headband whenever they were outside their mech, as rare as it was.

March wears their headband and starts mimicking their voice, dramatically shouting in a low voice. It doesn't take her long to break character and begin laughing.

But nothing could top the moment their Master visited the Astral Express.

Upon meeting their disciple once again, the two immediately broke into a strange dance. One that March had to try. If she couldn't make something explode with her hands, then it was onto the next best thing!

==

Dan Heng, March, and S/O watched as S/O's master departed on a mechanical horse, standing perfectly upright on it, while inside their own mech suit.

(Dan Heng) "...That would certainly explain why S/O is the way they are."

(S/O) "Amazing, isn't he?"

(March 7th) "...Hey, S/O? Remember that thing you did with your Master? Do you think we can try it too?"

S/O's machine tilted its head as they responded to March.

(S/O) "Huh? Oh, the dance?...Sure, why not!"

(Dan Heng) "Uh, I think I'd rather pass-"

(S/O) "Don't be such a spoilsport! Come on: Undefeated, School of the east!"

S/O raised their fist to the middle, with March 7th quickly chiming in and doing the same.

(March 7th) "Winds of the King!"

Dan Heng simply sighed, knowing March or S/O wouldn't take no for an answer.

Finally relenting, he raised his own fist.

(Dan Heng) "Zenshin!-"

S/O retracted their fist and struck a pose, as if they were ready to begin fighting.

(S/O) "KEIRETSU!"

March leaped into the air and landed dramatically, pointing upwards into the air.

(March 7th) "TEMPA KYORAN!"

Dan Heng grabbed S/O's metallic fist as they traded places, extending their arms and connecting their fists.

(Dan Heng) "Look!-"

(S/O) "THE EAST!-"

March went to the middle, the three of them shouting in unison:

Stelle kept a straight face through all of S/O's shenanigans.

Watching them pose dramatically, witnessing their machine erupt from the ground before S/O magical girl transformed into it, dodging the explosions their fists created, all of it.

Stelle was more confused than anything.

Rules were made to be broken, but the rules of how gravity, physics, and heat worked too?

That was taking it a little too far.

She wants to know how they do it, but some questions were probably left unanswered.

==

S/O's mech crossed its arms, dramatically posing as it turned to Stelle.

A small army of malfunctioning robots approached them, threatening to attack the camp they were defending.

(S/O) "Hmph, there's too many to take them on individually."

She turned to him, eyes finally widening in surprise.

(Stelle) "Wait, you don't mean?-"

(S/O) "We have no choice! Launch me, just like how I taught you!"

(Stelle) "You can't just defy the laws of physics whenever you want-"

(S/O) "We have no time to argue, JUST DO IT!"

Stelle had performed some crazy plans in her time aboard the Astral Express, but-

Stelle took a deep breath and mimicked the crane stance, her baseball bat still in hand.

(Stelle) "CHOKYO!"

S/O went down on one knee, extending their fists.

(S/O) "HAOH!"

The two struck a dramatic pose in unison, exactly as how S/O's master had taught them.

(Both) "DEN'EIDAN!"

(S/O) "STELLE, FIRE!"

Stelle took a deep breath before swinging with all her might, with S/O suddenly leaping into the air, using her bat as a jumping point.

S/O roared out in fury, their mech spinning rapidly and turning into a tornado of red, blue, and yellow, blitzing a line through the robots, creating a single line of destruction.

Finally, S/O's mech flew up into the air, struck another pose with their feet and fists extended to one direction as if they were doing a flying kick.

(S/O) "ERUPT!"

On command, the entire army detonated at once, creating a beautiful ball of destruction as the dust cloud soared into the air, S/O slowly floating down next to Stelle.

(S/O) "HAHA! BEHOLD THE POWER OF THE SCHOOL OF MASTER ASIA!"

Stelle looked blankly at S/O, then back to the army they had destroyed together.

(Stelle) "...It's probably best I stop asking questions, isn't it?"

(S/O) "Yes!"

Oh Aeons above, S/O was a horrible influence on the kids.

Natasha does not have the mental capacity to deal with their insanity they brought with their mech onto the planet.

Hook and the others thought that S/O and their mech was the coolest thing they had ever seen.

The flashy red, blue, yellow, and white of their suit looked like an action figure.

And their warrior attitude definitely did not help things.

S/O had already made themselves notorious in the fighting club too, adding even more fuel to the fire.

She has to constantly tell the kids to not mimic her S/O.

Natasha loved them, but sometimes she wanted to slam her head against their mech in frustration.

They were great with kids, but seem to grasp no concept on impressionable children actually were.

===

Natasha treated the last of the patient's wounds, waving goodbye to them as they left.

She leaned back into her chair, taking a deep breath and finally relaxing.

Natasha opened one eye and saw that S/O's mech was standing completely still, clearly unmanned.

(Natasha) "...Strange, where is-"

She heard the kids all grunting in unison outside the window.

(Natasha) "...Oh no."

She leapt off her chair at a speed that startled some of the people inside.

Opening the door, she found Seele already approaching the clinic.

(Seele) "Nat, the kids!-"

(Natasha) "I know!"

She rushed past Seele, who quickly joined her as they rushed towards an open part of the courtyard.

S/O was standing in front of a large group of children, all mimicking their actions.

(S/O) "Put your heart into every swing! Your fists are the only way to convey how you feel!"

(Hook) "Yes, teacher!"

(Child) "S/O, do you think your Master could teach us too?!"

(S/O) "Hah! My Master would appreciate your enthusiasm, but-"

(Natasha) "S/O!"

S/O froze in fear, as did the rest of the children as every single one of them rushed to hide behind S/O.

Natasha sighed, looking at the kids, then back to her lover.

(Natasha) "What in the world are you doing?"

(S/O) "...Exercising-"

(Seele) "Really? Is that what you call it?"

(Hook) "S-S/O said they would show us the Erupting Burning-"

(Natasha) "Absolutely not! S/O, the clinic, NOW."

Seele took the kids behind her as Natasha dragged S/O out of sight.

(Child) "...Will they be alright?"

(Seele) "I don't think they will be, no."

...

(S/O) "Nat-"

(Natasha) "Do not Nat me! What are you thinking, teaching the kids such a violent move!?"

(S/O) "W-Well, I can't exactly say no to them-"

(Natasha) "Do I know it, S/O, but I don't need parents telling me their kids were trying to blow up something with their bare hands!"

(S/O) "...But I do it with the-"

(Natasha) "Don't you dare finish that sentence! If I find you trying to teach the kids your crazy moves again, I will make you explode next."

The Mech's head moved and stared at Natasha.

(Natasha) "AND YOU'LL BE FIRST IF YOU LET THE KIDS GET ANYWHERE NEAR YOU."

Both the mech and S/O stepped back in fear.

Honestly, S/O couldn't decide whether their master or Natasha was scarier.

...Probably Natasha.

[darthjess-writing]

Anakin x Padmé

This is smut. MDNI. 18+. Mind the tags on AO3.

~2366 words

These are the early days of the Clone Wars. Padmé is frustrated about Senate business, and Anakin is frustrated with the Jedi Council. So when Anakin approaches Padmé in the Senate building all hot and angry, they decide to blow off some steam in her office.

Teaser posted below, link at the bottom to the full scene on AO3.

This is totally unedited, it might be awful I wrote this in kind of a frenzy. If you guys have edits or comments lemme know!

P.S. This is my first attempt writing smut for these two lovebirds, so while I do take constructive criticism very well (in fact I welcome it, if you have tips for me lemme know I'm always trying to improve my writing) I don't appreciate outright bullies, so try to be nice!

A Jedi Comes to Call

Padmé Amidala stood, locked in deep conversation with Senator Organa just outside her office. A large portion of the Senate hearing today had been a discussion of whether or not the clones should be given full Republic citizenship after the end of the war, and it had not gone well.

“I can’t believe how many Senators are more concerned with how this might affect the job market,” Padmé said under her breath. “It really shows where our priorities lie.”

Senator Organa nodded sadly. “We should be setting them up with pensions, not arguing about whether or not they deserve citizenship after fighting our war for us.”

Padmé was about to respond with her agreement when she felt him.

She wasn’t Force-sensitive, but the bond she had with her husband went beyond the Force. Padmé could feel echoes of his resentment, and they melded with her own frustrations from the day, though she had no idea what he was upset about. The Council? Something Obi-wan said? Something Ahsoka did? It didn’t really matter in the end.

And then she saw him.

Anakin rounded the corner, looking dark and handsome and angry. She knew it was wrong, but damn was he hot when he was angry. His every stride toward her was confident, powerful.

Intense irritation radiated from his form. He was tense, on edge, and he needed…oh, he needed release from it.

Padmé’s breath hitched and her face began to burn.

That’s why he was here.

He was coming to her because he wanted her.

Because he needed her to grant him that sweet release that only she could give him.

“Senator Amidala?” Bail asked. “Are you alright?”

Padmé cleared her throat. “Y-yes, I’m fine, thank you,” she said, completely embarrassed because she’d honestly forgotten Bail was still there.

Had he been talking to her?

Bail’s eyes went to the tall, beautiful, Jedi who was now close enough that Padmé could reach out and touch him if she wanted to. And she really, really, wanted to, despite being incredibly annoyed at him for assuming she wouldn’t refuse him even here at her place of work.

That gentle smirk on his lips as he looked at her made her doubt herself.

Definitely doubt herself.

Alright, maybe his assumption was correct.

But she was still irritated.

“General Skywalker!” Bail said. “How good of you to visit the Senate. Did you watch the hearing?”

Anakin’s demeanor changed completely, and he smiled at the man, hiding everything that was burning within him. “No, Senator, I’m actually here to speak with Senator Amidala.”

Anakin’s eyes went to Padmé, and she still felt the pent up anger rolling of him like boiling water, but beneath that there was lust, there was hunger. And it was all for her.

Excitement and anger heated her blood.

Who did he think he was, marching in to her place of work expecting to seduce her? He was insufferable, couldn’t he tell that she was working on something important? She was already angry and upset with how the hearing had gone, and she would have to spend the next few days working up some way to get other Senators on her side of this.

And yet his boldness seriously turned her on.

And maybe he could help her clear her mind.

He was a Jedi, after all.

“Of course,” Bail said. “Senator Amidala and I were just finishing up.” His eyes glanced from Padmé to Anakin, once, then twice. He stepped back, awkwardly. “I’ll be on my way.”

Finally, the two of them were relatively alone in the hall. There were others nearby, but they were all out of earshot.

“To what do I owe the pleasure, General Skywalker?” Padmé asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Can’t I visit a friend at work?” Anakin asked.

Padmé watched his lips move and all she wanted was to feel them against her own. But his words were absolutely infuriating and cocky. She would show him. Her mouth watered thinking about what she’d do to him later to torture him for this. “You’re going to regret this,” she sneered quietly.

“I really don’t think I am,” Anakin replied, smirking again.

She looked up at him, studying him, probably a little closer than a senator and a Jedi general should ever stand. She could feel his hot breath on her face.

The way he looked at her like he could ravage her here, now, against the wall of the Senate with everyone watching, made her knees feel weak.

The tension between them had become electric, and Shiraya help her, she wanted him so badly.

Heat pooled in her core, and she made her decision.

“I’m going to regret this,” she muttered, and walked toward her office.

Anakin’s voice was low, and seductive. “I’ll make certain you won’t.”

[ptn-imagines]

best of luck with the new blog! if possible i'd like to request headcanons for zoya in a relationship with touch starved fem chief :) i imagine chief is probably pretty stubborn both about acknowledging her own needs and just. taking the time to let herself fully relax for a moment

That is absolutely possible and you are absolutely correct. Zoya my beloved.

Touch-starved f!Chief in a relationship with Zoya

While Chief isn't quite a martyr, she's absolutely a self-sacrificing bleeding heart. So yeah, she can be quite stubborn and insistent on pushing her needs to the wayside.

You know who else is as stubborn as a brick wall? Zoya.

A lot of S-Rank Sinners in the Bureau behave with a certain level of audacity towards the Chief, but compared to Zoya, they may as well be the picture-perfect models of good behavior. Zoya can even get away with acting out a lot of the time, by virtue of her relationship and also just her sheer intimidating aura (though Chief isn't afraid to tug on her leash if she needs to).

In addition, Zoya is more in tune with Chief through the shackles than any other Sinner in the Bureau. The experiences they’ve shared have left them with a truly unshakable bond that goes even deeper than the shackles; they’re soulmates in every sense of the word.

Combine these two things and you find yourself with an extraordinarily fearsome S-Rank Sinner who isn’t afraid to manhandle Chief into taking care of herself. And boy, does she need it.

Chief isn’t addicted to her work, but she’s definitely a workaholic. She frequently pulls long nights and unhealthy amounts of overtime. Iron has scolded her about it many times, to no avail.

Enter Zoya. The Commander of the Legion can bite at the Chief without fear of retaliation due to the power and respect she commands. She’s aware of this fact and absolutely unashamed about wielding it.

It’s a common sight to see Zoya bust into the Chief’s office. By this time, Chief is usually half-asleep already at her desk, frequently nodding off before startling awake.

As soon as she sees Zoya in her office, the Chief starts to say the same thing every time: “Just a few more documents, then I’m done.” Both of them know it’s a lie; if left to her own devices, Chief will toil away at the paperwork until the Bureau begins to rise for its daily routine.

So, Zoya never gives the Chief any slack; it’s no problem at all for her to sweep her girlfriend into her arms, holding her firmly against her broad chest as she marches towards Chief’s bed.

Though she doesn’t dare to admit it aloud, these moments are some of the Chief’s favorites. She is, unfortunately, very touch-starved, so the heat of Zoya’s skin and the steady thud of her heartbeat as she’s carried is enough to send a shiver down her spine. Zoya is probably aware of this, but she never says anything.

Zoya isn’t gentle when she unceremoniously dumps Chief onto the sheet and pins her down, her eyes burning with what would seem like anger to someone not as in tune with all the minute details of her expression as the Chief. The intensity of her gaze always makes Chief’s mouth go dry, yet she can never pull her eyes away.

Then, Zoya claims her lips. It’s a fierce, hot, and open-mouthed kiss, encapsulating all of the icy fire that the Commander of the Legion is, and it never fails to steal Chief’s breath away – all she can do is cling to the Sinner and hope that the moment never ends.

Of course, it has to end eventually, and all Chief can do is try to bite back her disappointment and not chase Zoya’s lips when she pulls away. “Sleep, Chief,” she murmurs, her voice rough with unsaid emotions. “I’ll stay.”

So it is that, on these nights, Chief falls asleep with her back to Zoya’s chest, lulled into slumber by the other woman’s deep breaths and heartbeat.

Zoya always falls asleep first when they’re like this. It’s a sharp contrast to when she sleeps alone in her cell; those nights, the Commander of the Legion is prone to sleeplessness. Chief doesn’t dare to ask about it.

These nights are the most restful sleep that Chief gets. And when Zoya is still there in the morning, gently snoring, well… All of a sudden, the Chief isn’t in a rush to get back to work.

[stnkiconverse]

you're going to do it, and you're getting away with it. you know that.

Ch.10 - Still Here.

⇠Previous

Next⇢

genre: psychological horror (in a way), creepypasta, supernatural thriller (in a way)

pairing: Jeff The Killer x Reader

WC: 2.5k

content warnings: echoes in the static contains scenes and themes that may be disturbing or triggering to some readers, including: graphic violence and murder, mental illness and psychological distress, suicide and self-harm, domestic abuse, cannibalism and strong language.

Reader discretion is advised.

Yes this has to do with Creepypastas. Yes, Creepypastas will pop up and make appearances, it's basically a reader insert into the Creepypasta word.

do not repost my work anywhere, I only post in Tumblr.

When you wake up, it's 5 PM. The light outside your window is fading, casting long shadows across your room. You sit up slowly, feeling groggy and disoriented. The dreams you had were twisted and strange, filled with static and whispers, leaving you with a sense of unease that clings to your skin.

You drag yourself out of bed and into the living room, trying to shake off the heaviness in your limbs. The first thing you notice is Jeff’s hoodie, carelessly tossed over the back of the couch, the bloodstains on it still dark and dried. Your frustration flares up immediately, knowing he’s still around.

You scan the room and see him standing in the kitchen. He’s shirtless, wearing just his black jeans, his scarred torso on full display as he rummages through the fridge. A carton of milk is in his hand, and he’s drinking straight from it.

"Are you serious?" you snap, your irritation spilling over. Jeff turns slowly, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, his grin already stretching across his face.

"Morning, Petal," he says, completely unfazed by your anger.

"Why aren’t you gone?" you demand, stepping toward him.

"I already told you," he shrugs, leaning against the counter with the milk carton still in his hand. "I’m not leaving until I’m satisfied."

You roll your eyes and march over to him, snatching the carton out of his hand. "And what the hell does that even mean?" You shove the milk back into the fridge, slamming the door with more force than necessary.

Jeff’s eyes follow your movements, his grin never wavering. "You’ll find out soon enough," he says casually, leaning back on the counter, arms crossed. "Relax, Petal."

"Stop calling me that," you growl, turning away from him.

"You leave petals at every scene, don’t you? It fits," he says, his tone laced with mockery.

You glare at him, the mention of the person you really are making you tense, but don’t bother responding. You’re too tired, too frustrated to keep going back and forth with him. You grab your phone and sink onto the couch, scrolling through your apps, trying to find something to distract yourself from his presence.

Jeff, of course, doesn’t let you. Before you can even blink, he snatches your phone right out of your hands.

“What’s this?” he taunts, holding it just out of reach. “Got any dirty secrets in here?”

“Give it back,” you snap, lunging for it, but he dodges easily, his laugh grating on your nerves.

“No nudes, huh? That’s a shame.”

“Jeff!” you shout, swinging at him. You manage to hit his shoulder, but it only makes him grin wider.

In your frustration, you lunge at him again, but this time, Jeff catches your wrist, pulling you down on top of him. You end up straddling him, knees pressed into the cushions of the couch, and for a second, neither of you move.

Jeff looks up at you, amusement flickering in his eyes. “Comfortable?” he murmurs, his hands resting on your hips.

You feel a flush creep up your neck and scramble off of him, grabbing your phone and muttering, “You’re such an asshole.”

He lets out a low chuckle as you storm into your room, slamming the door behind you. Leaning against it, you take a few deep breaths, trying to shake off the strange tension that lingers in the air.

---

You pull off your hoodie and head for the shower, hoping the heat will help clear your mind. The steam fills the small bathroom, and you stand under the spray for a long time, letting the water wash away the frustration. But no matter how hard you try to relax, the image of Jeff’s smug grin keeps resurfacing.

By the time you step out of the shower, you’ve made up your mind to go out. You need space—real space—and maybe even a release for the tension that’s been building inside you.

After dressing, you head out into the living room again, where Jeff is lounging lazily on the couch. He doesn’t say anything, but you can feel his eyes following you as you grab your keys and head toward the door.

“Where’re we going?” Jeff asks, and you freeze, knowing he has no intention of letting you go alone.

“You’re not coming,” you say flatly, grabbing a jacket and pulling it on.

“Sure I am,” he replies, pulling on his shoes before standing up and stretching. "I haven’t had my fun yet."

You don’t bother arguing with him. You just head out the door, and Jeff falls into step beside you.

He reluctantly put his jacket on, and one of your black surgical masks after you forced him to.

---

The grocery store is dimly lit, its fluorescent lights flickering as you walk through the aisles. You keep your head down, focusing on what you need—bread, milk, a few cans of soup, the essentials.

Jeff, on the other hand, makes no effort to blend in. He saunters behind you, his hood up but doing nothing to hide the scars that twist across his arms, neck and torso. People stare openly, their eyes widening in a mix of horror and confusion when they catch sight of him. A young woman pushing a cart with her child practically runs to another aisle the moment she sees him.

A group of teenagers snicker nervously as Jeff walks past them, but their laughter quickly dies when Jeff shoots them a cold, calculating look. You glance over at him, but he just shrugs, clearly enjoying the reactions.

"You're really something, aren't you?" you mutter under your breath as you grab a loaf of bread.

"You noticed?" Jeff smirks, leaning against a shelf and watching you with a lazy interest.

The woman at the checkout counter is visibly shaking as she scans your items, her hands fumbling as she bags your groceries. She doesn’t say a word, her eyes flicking nervously between you and Jeff.

You scoff, obviously done. And walk out of the store, nothing in hand.

---

When you get back home, you slide a large knife from the kitchen and tuck it into your hoodie pocket. Jeff doesn’t notice—he’s too busy rummaging through whatever the fuck is left in your fridge, like it’s the most fascinating thing.

You slip back into your room and quietly open the window, climbing out into the cold night air. The darkness is thick, the streets empty as you move swiftly toward the edge of town, where the forest begins to loom just beyond the streetlights.

You don’t know the forest well, but it’s secluded, and that’s all you need. As you make your way deeper into the shadows, you spot a man stumbling out of a nearby bar. He’s drunk, barely able to stand straight.

Perfect.

You approach him with a smile, your voice soft and inviting. "Hey, you look lost. Need some help?"

The man blinks at you, his eyes glassy. "Yeah... yeah, sure. That’d be... that’d be great."

You guide him away from the bar, toward the entrance of the forest. It’s dark, the trees casting long shadows, but you don’t go too far in. You stop just at the edge, where the streetlights can barely reach.

When the man turns to face you, confused by the sudden stop, you strike. The knife slices through his throat in one clean motion, blood spilling out in a hot spray. He chokes, eyes wide with shock, but it’s over quickly. His body crumples to the ground, and you stand over him, breathless, the familiar rush flooding your veins.

You don’t linger. You leave the body at the edge of the forest, a petal from the red spider lily tucked beside him like a signature. You don’t dare go deeper into the trees, not when you don’t know the way yet.

---

By the time you get back to your apartment, your clothes are splattered with blood, and the weight of the kill is settling into your bones. You strip off your clothes and toss it aside, heading straight for the shower. The hot water washes the blood from your skin, but it doesn’t wash away the feeling—the satisfaction, the calm that comes after the storm.

After drying off, you collapse into bed, your mind heavy with the events of the night. Exhaustion pulls you under, and for a few hours, you’re lost in a deep, dreamless sleep.

---

It’s around 3 AM when you wake up suddenly, the sound of voices pulling you from the darkness. You sit up, groggy and disoriented, blinking in the dim light of your room.

You hear the voices again—low, murmuring from the living room.

Creeping toward the door, you crack it open just enough to peek out. Jeff is standing near the front door, talking to two men. They’re both dressed in yellow—one in a hoodie, the other in a jacket. Their faces are covered, but their conversation sends a chill down your spine.

“This is taking too long,” the one in the jacket says, his voice rough. “He wants her there.”

Your heart skips a beat. Her. They’re talking about you.

The other man nods. “We’re running out of time.”

You lean against the door, your mind racing. But then the floor beneath you creaks, and all three heads snap toward you.

Your breath catches in your throat as Jeff’s eyes lock onto yours. There's a flicker of amusement in his expression.

Without thinking, you slam the door shut and twist the lock, your heart pounding in your chest. The silence on the other side is thick and suffocating.

Who is 'he'?

You freeze, your heart pounding so hard it feels like it might burst from your chest. The conversation outside your door sinks in—the cryptic, disturbing words circling in your mind.

“He wants her there.”

You know they’re talking about you. But the who, the why—it’s all a mystery wrapped in layers of fear and confusion. Your breathing quickens as you press your back against the wall, willing yourself to remain calm.

What now?

A voice from the other side of the door breaks the silence. It’s Jeff, his tone low and almost amused. “... What are you doing?”

You can’t bring yourself to answer, the cold fear settling in your stomach like a stone. You hear a soft chuckle, and then Jeff speaks again, this time more insistent. “Open the door.”

You remain frozen in place, torn between the urge to open it and the desire to stay hidden in the relative safety of your room. Your hand hovers over the lock, your mind screaming at you not to let him in, not to trust him, but there’s something more than fear gnawing at you now—curiosity. You need answers, and despite every warning sign flashing in your head, you know Jeff has them.

The silence stretches out, thick and heavy. Finally, you hear the other two men speak, their voices barely more than whispers. It’s impossible to make out what they’re saying, but you catch a few words—time, orders, patience.

Jeff sighs, clearly frustrated, before his voice takes on a sharper edge. “This would be a lot easier if you didn’t eavesdrop, you know?”

You glare at the door, clenching your fists. He always knows how to needle you, always trying to push your buttons, and right now you don’t have the patience for his games. But before you can respond, there’s a shift in the energy outside. You hear footsteps, the two men moving away from the door, and the front door of your apartment clicks shut softly. They’ve left.

For a long moment, you stand there in the suffocating quiet, waiting for something—anything—to happen. You can hear your own breathing, shallow and fast, mixing with the faint hum of static that still lingers at the edge of your hearing. It’s there again—the Operator’s presence, always just on the edge of your awareness.

Then, a soft knock at the door. You jump, your body tense, but it’s just Jeff. You can tell by the laziness in the knock, like he’s not even worried.

“I’ll explain. Just open the door, Y/N.”

You hesitate for a moment, every instinct screaming at you not to trust him. But what other choice do you have? Slowly, you unlock the door and pull it open, just a crack. Jeff’s face greets you, that infuriating smirk plastered across his lips, but his eyes are serious—dark and focused.

“See? That wasn’t so hard,” he says, stepping inside and closing the door behind him.

You glare at him, folding your arms over your chest. “Who the hell were they? And what the hell was that about?”

Jeff runs a hand through his messy hair, the cocky grin fading slightly as he leans against the wall. “You’re in the thick of it now, Petal. That wasn’t some random encounter earlier. The Operator—he—has plans for you. You’re part of something bigger.”

Your stomach tightens at the mention of the Operator again. “What does that mean? Why me?”

Jeff shrugs, looking almost bored. “I mean, you decided to become a serial killer, so that’s that. I’m not exactly in the loop when it comes to his grand designs. But those two guys? They work for him too. Guess they’re just here to check up on things, make sure you’re... cooperating.”

“Cooperating with what?” you ask, the frustration building inside you again. “I didn’t ask for this. I didn’t ask for any of this.”

“Yeah, well, tough shit,” Jeff replies, blunt and unbothered. “Once the Operator sets his sights on someone, you don’t get a choice. You’re in it whether you like it or not.”

You sink onto the edge of the bed, your head spinning. This can’t be happening. You thought your life was already screwed up, but now it feels like you’ve been dragged into something darker, something far beyond your control. The Operator wants you, but for what? What role do you play in all of this? What the hell even is an Operator?

Jeff watches you quietly for a moment, his usual sarcasm taking a backseat as he studies your expression. His eyes flicker with something... softer, almost like concern, but it’s gone as quickly as it appeared. “Look,” he says, his voice a little quieter now, “You’ve got me, and I’m not going anywhere.”

You scoff, shaking your head. “I don’t know you, Jeff. And I’m just supposed to trust you?”

He leans closer, a sly grin tugging at his lips again. “Whether you like it or not, I’m all you’ve got. You might as well get used to me.”

You stare at him for a long moment, trying to read him, but Jeff is as unreadable as ever. His grin never falters, but there’s something in his eyes—something darker, deeper, that makes you uneasy.

Finally, you let out a long breath, the tension in your shoulders easing just a little. “Fine,” you mutter.

”Also,” He stops in his tracks, “we’re going back to the grocery store tomorrow, there’s nothing to eat in this fuckin’ place.”

“There literally is.”

“There are ingredients in your fridge, not already made food, do i look like i want to make food? Fuck that.”

As he leaves your room, you feel the weight of everything pressing down on you—the Operator, the men in yellow, the unknown future hanging over your head. You’re in the thick of it now, and there’s no going back.

But for now, at least, you have a little bit of time. Time to figure out your next move. Time to understand what’s coming.

And as you lie back in bed, trying to ignore the faint static still lingering in your ears, you can’t shake the feeling that your life is no longer your own.

All i can say for my absence is: College 👍 (also im planning out an ARG with my best friend so that’s been keeping me busy too)

BY THE WAY THIS CHAPTER WAS SUPPOSED TO GO WAYYY DIFFERENTLY BUT I GOT TIRED 😭

TAGLIST - OPEN (comment to be added)

🏷️: @mimmickmouse @stranger-of-the-internet @akashic06072007 @hey-an-original-url

[jake-whatthefisgoingon-kiszka]

Spicy Jake blurb below the cut…

Jake comes home from a day at the studio and he has something he wants to show you

Warnings: 18+ minors this is not for you!!, oral (f rec), fingering, that’s it

Word count: ~900

“Baaaaaabe! Where’s your headphones?” You heard your boyfriend call into the bathroom over the sound of the shower head pelting you from above.

At this point you were already washed up and clean, just prolonging getting out to soak up all the hot water and relax your body after a long hard day.

“In my bag on the dresser.” You called back after switching the lever to the off position and stepping out into the steamy bathroom you shared in connection to the bedroom. “Why?” Your interest peaked when you stepped into the room, nothing but a plush white towel wrapped tightly around your body hoping to get his attention. Instead he was already at your bag, rummaging through to find his jackpot without a glance in your direction.

“You will see” he replied, clearly on a mission. “You sure they’re in here?” He was getting slightly frustrated as he was elbow deep in your backpack blindly fishing around for the shape.

“Check the front pocket?” You knew he didn’t, so you giggled a little as his face fell into realization, retreating his hand from the bag and unzipping the smaller pocket.

You moved over to the dresser next, pulling out a pajama set to get dressed in then scrunching your dripping hair into the towel before tossing it into the hamper, all the while watching as he took a seat at the edge of the bed and fumbled with the devices.

Finally Jake synced your AirPods to his phone. You helping him navigate the simple technology without further questioning.

Once he was successful he handed the small white pieces back to you with an eager smile not so easily hidden on his face.

Taking the earbuds, your were confused but excited for what he had in store as he motioned for you to lay down on the bed.

“I’m not supposed to have this yet. Kind of stole it. So don’t tell anyone okay?” The grin on his face was growing larger as he waited almost impatiently for you to place the buds in your ears and nod.

As soon as you were situated he pressed play on the saved audio file on his phone, turning the volume nearly all the way up.

You waited as you heard small noises in the background first. The distant sound of people talking then drums starting to pick up, laying a rhythm with a strong marching beat.

He was playing you a raw recording of their new song, one you knew Jake had been particularly excited about.

Not long after the guitar came in to play, wailing with fervor, the notes ringing through your head while your heart swelled with the realization you were probably the first to have ever heard this recording outside of those who were in the studio.

Jake was watching you intently, his eyes fixed on reading your expression no doubt hearing the same notes you were replaying in his head from memory.

The smile that played on your face couldn’t be helped, but the look of pride that resulted on Jake’s was to rival.

You listened intently as the guitar continued, closing your eyes to fully immerse yourself in the music until you felt a pair of calloused fingers slip under the waistband of your shorts, tugging the silk fabric down and off your legs in one swift motion.

Your eyes snapped back open to see Jake crawling onto the bed, situating himself between your legs. He glanced back up at you with pleading eyes that said keep listening as he gripped your hips and pulled you down causing your head to fall onto the pillow and your knees to raise on either side of his shoulders.

Your head swirled with the sweet sound of Jake's guitar so intimately pouring directly into your ears in what seemed to be a never ending solo. Serenading you into a warm pool beneath him as he connected his mouth to your dripping center. Not even wasting a beat his expert tongue found your sweet spot, applying pressure in swift alternating motions.

In just moments your back was arching off the bed, toes curling into the sheets. You knew you were letting out loud moans of pleasure, but you couldn’t hear yourself over the crescendo, leaving Jake alone to enjoy the music coming from you as you enjoyed his.

The solo was reaching its peak just as you were reaching yours. Jake knew, he knew your body so well, and he knew what you were hearing. Timing his movements with the audio he sunk his fingers into you just as you heard him ripping harder into his guitar.

With your eyes closed again you could so easily picture the image of him playing. Nothing but blackness surrounded him and his Beloved as he thrust his hips in motion, beautiful face scrunching into concentration and pure sex.

Your mouth formed his name, but what actually slipped from your lips was besides you as you fell over the metaphorical edge. Crashing into an orgasm just as intense as the melodic passage both in a journey towards ecstasy.

Jake worked you through it, keeping a tight grip on your hip until you came down along with the solo. The audio dropped off into a haunting silence in comparison to energy and passion you’d just experienced.

He came up for air now, his eyebrows situated high in the waiting question. Did you like it?

You propped yourself up, balancing on one elbow as you pulled the buds out of your ears and tossed them to the side.

“Can we listen to it again?”

A devilish smile pulled across his face as he retrieved his phone and disconnected the AirPods. Clicking the play button again, he tossed it onto a the bed as well before ascending down on top of you, catching your lips in his.

[cossiedxll]

hellu, hope ur doing well ^^

I’d like to request a Dan Heng/Reader + Pocky Game prompt (´∀｀)

some elements of mutual pining & idiots in love would be nice! I’m imagining March and Trailblazer being SO done w/ them and just suggest this game LMAOO

prompt 18: pocky game + dan heng !

authors notes: hi! thank you for participating in this event! someone else requested this prompt with dan heng so i'll combine these together hehe.

honestly march and trailblazer are so tired of the mutual pinning going on between you two. was it not obvious enough that you two liked each other??? they wanted to see you guys together already!!

march had heard of a certain game where you and another person would both eat the end of a pocky stick and the loser was the first person who'd touch lips with the other (correct me if i'm wrong about this!!) so she decided to buy a pack for you guys to try! the only problem was how were they going to make one of you initiate it :(

"come oooon, don't you think this has gone on long enough?" march whined as trailblazer nodded with her, dan hengs continuous attempts at refusing to play the game with you was starting to annoy them. it's not that he doesn't want to, he just doesn't want to make you feel uncomfortable. "they clearly like you back, you guys just need a little push!" and with that, march forcefully left the packet of pocky in dan hengs hand as she ran off, trailblazer following behind her.

you don't know how you've gotten yourself into this situation. your lips shake nervously as you try to avert your eyes from dan hengs gaze. you decide to cautiously move a little closer to him, bitting down on the chocolate covered biscuit. dan heng seemed to get the message, moving his lips closer to yours.

you try your luck by placing your hand on his shoulder, your lips having been about a 3 inches away from each other at this point. taking a deep breath, dan heng closed the gap between the two of you. his hand finds its way on your cheek, hesitant but it's there. you close your eyes as you feel his lips on yours, accompanied by the chocolate covered biscuit that's in your mouth.

"FINALLY!!!!" march's excited voice rung through your ears, causing you to break off the kiss. turns out march and trailblazer were secretly recording the whole thing. march gushing over the recording while trailer blazer simply congratulates you two.

(march sent the recording to both of you afterwards..)

notes and reblogs are heavily appreciated and thank you for participating in this event !!

[stxrshxpxd]

spring

part one

pairing: 90s professor hugh grant x reader

word count: 3k

warnings: student x teacher, smut

prompt: reader and mr. grant slowly recover from the horror that was the end of last semester, but they can’t seem to keep their hands off each other

requested by several people <3

February.

The first few weeks of the semester I had sat nearly all the way at the back for Mr. Grant’s classes, not said a word in discussions and felt partly relieved he hadn’t addressed me directly. The other part of me wallowed in deep sadness and agony at the fact that we hadn’t exchanged a single word in a month.

He stood at his desk like always in a pale grey button up and his arms crossed over his chest. He let his eyes scan the class and quickly panned over me, to which my heart jumped and I sank down a bit in my seat. I hated that I still had dreams about him every other night and still wanted his hands on me more than ever. He hadn’t done anything wrong. He had actually done everything right. Which made it all worse. There was nothing I could cling onto for a reason to hate him.

Class ended sooner than I had expected and I hurried to gather my things and head towards the door, but Professor Grant stopped me with a soft uttering of my name.

“Would you mind staying back for just a little while?”

Stiff and caught off guard, I nodded and we awkwardly watched the last few students exit.

“I know you knew the answer to the Oscar Wilde question,” he stated gently with a sympathetic look and his head tilted down slightly.

“Okay,” I shrugged stiffly and hugged my books closely to my chest.

“Okay,” he mimicked and sighed.

“Listen, I’m really sorry about what happened last semester. I should absolutely not have let that happen…” His arms were crossed again rather anxiously and his eyes visibly upset. “We have to find a way to work through this though. You’re an absolutely brilliant student, but I’m afraid if you don’t speak in class that’s going to affect your grade.”

I blinked back at him and my gaze rested on his wide shoulders momentarily.

“I understand that.”

March.

It was Thursday and the sun had gone down nearly five hours earlier. I had been sitting in my dorm since the end of the school day with my nose shoved in one book or another, and I felt like I was going insane.

Already after a few minutes’ walk I was feeling better. However, my steps slowed as I wandered past a crowded pub to my left, letting my eyes sorrowfully scan all the little groups of people bathing in the warm light inside, talking and laughing. Sometimes I would get little spurts of confidence and I’d tell myself I could stomp inside a pub alone and get a drink if I wanted. Who the hell would care? But then I never did.

Just as I went to carry on down the street I spotted Professor Grant at the bar, also alone. In shock I watched his long fingers walk along the edge of his pint as he stared down into the half finished beer, wavy locks hanging around his glasses. I guess now I wouldn’t be alone if I were to go in.

“Hey,” I said carefully as I reached him by the bar. He didn’t hear me, so I repeated it louder and made him stare up at me.

“Y/N,” Mr. Grant exhaled and swallowed, almost nervously. His gaze traveled all the way down and up my body as I cautiously sat on the stool beside him.

“What are you doing h-“

“Can I get anything for you, love?” the loud barman interrupted his question with a wide smile beaming at me. I turned him down instantly, saying I was okay for now, anxious to make him go away.

“I’m- I was just on a walk.” I shrugged and looked around the stacked shelves behind the bar. “I’ve been studying all night, and I felt like I was losing my mind… I just saw you, and… thought I’d go in… I don’t know,” I mumbled once the barman was at the other end of the counter again. My professor continued to stare back at me, his pale eyes glassy with intoxication and tongue licking the corner of his mouth. There was a definite air of anxiety coming off him.

I went to ask him something but he quickly jabbed in with a tortured statement before I could get any words out.

“I don’t trust myself to be drunk with you,” he grumbled and shook his head and looked down again, beginning to slide off his bar stool.

“Why?” I asked, knowing why.

I took a good long look at his body while he struggled to find an answer; his broad shoulders clad in a knitted sweater and the few rings on his large hands and his long legs in blue denim. I thought I hadn’t ever seen him in jeans before.

“I’ll see you Monday,” Professor Grant muttered at last and hurried to make his exit, avoiding my eye contact. I was left alone at the bar, defeated and contemplating finishing his beer. Fifteen minutes later I was back in my dorm.

April.

“This is brilliant, Y/N,” Mr. Grant gushed without greeting me. He was holding up my latest essay as he took the last few steps towards me and sat on the edge of the table beside me. It was midday and the library was crowded and struggling to stay silent.

“I mean, really, the connections you make between 19th century and current day society are incredible.”

I smiled at his enthusiasm and my chest simmered with warmth, but I was afraid to answer him. Ever since that night in the pub that was all I could think about when I looked at him. Even in bright daylight it felt like his drunk eyes were looking at me through dim lighting when we spoke. And we had spoken quite a bit lately. Things had somehow gone back to what they used to be, Mr. Grant seeming to have forgotten the memory of the pub night. But it was all obviously a front.

“I have to run, but,” he stood up and leaned in a barely noticeable amount, placing my marked essay in front of me. “This is great stuff. You’re brilliant,” he finished rather lightheartedly and friendly, but his hand squeezed my shoulder gently and it felt like his fingertips lingered when he pulled away and walked off again. I watched his broad back and long legs march out of the library, his brown waves of hair bouncing softly around his head as always. The cloud of his scent dissipated soon and my shoulder molded back into its untouched state, as I began to look through his marks and comments to the sound of my pounding heart.

May.

Towards the end of the year it seemed Professor Grant was getting more and more relaxed in a couple areas. He had stopped blushing and darting his eyes away whenever I caught him looking at me, which was still quite often. Instead he would flex his jaw and take his sweet time looking down while exhaling deeply. I suppose he was getting comfortable with the idea of soon not being my teacher anymore.

I could almost hear his thoughts today as it was the first hot day of the year and I had opted for a skirt that ended at the middle of my thighs and a thin cardigan. He seemed to be hoping that my top button might pop open from his adamant stare which he had resumed now. I was praying for the same thing as my eyes trailed down his buttoned shirt from where I sat just two rows back in the classroom.

Mr. Grant gazed away again, but only for a minute, seemingly pondering something. I tried to force my head back down to continue scribbling notes about Virginia Woolf’s To the Lighthouse, but seconds later Grant cleared his throat.

“I need to go get some books. Um… Y/N, would you mind helping me carry them?”

I snapped my head up and studied the way he was standing now, leaned over his desk with his arms straight and hands pressing into the wooden surface. Maybe my delusions were getting the best of me but I thought that definitely couldn’t have been a random pick of a student. I nodded and slid out of my seat, silently following him while my hands toyed nervously with my necklace.

The hallways were quiet and echoed with our steps as I walked next to my professor, all the while expecting him to say something. He didn’t until we were in the crowded storage room and he began stacking textbooks on my extended arms.

“Do you have any plans for the summer?” Grant asked and simultaneously made a quick grimace to comment on the heat in the tight space we’d found ourselves in.

“Work a bit, see my family… I don’t know… Read.”

“I’ll give you a reading list, don’t worry,” he said and winked. I smiled and prayed he couldn’t see my blushing cheeks in the dusky light. He let a moment pass of silence.

“I expect you’ll have a summer fling or two.”

His tone was lighthearted but investigative. I couldn’t help but scoff with laughter.

“I don’t think any guy has looked my way since starting uni.”

“I’m looking your way right now,” he joked and lowered his head to my level, inching his face closer to mine and locking in eye contact with me with a playful grin. My cheeks burned now.

“I’m looking at your eyes, your hair, your nose, your chin…”

Excitement and nerves bubbled and spilled over inside me, mixed with confusion and slight anger. He had spent so long fighting our chemistry and attraction and keeping me at an arm's length. Now all of a sudden he was charmingly playing around with me in a dark storage room. I couldn’t figure him out and it drove me mad.

“Especially looking at your arms,” Mr. Grant laughed sympathetically and looked down at my embrace of the huge stack of books. “Very strong arms.” His fingers touched my tensed bicep and all my feelings of anger left in an instant. We silently made eye contact for a few long seconds as his hand stayed put and the playful smile faded from his lips.

“Don’t stress. No boys here are good enough for you anyway.”

I couldn’t tell who was leaning in but somehow his face neared mine and I watched him close his eyes. I did the same and then I felt his lips softly against mine. There was so much more time to cherish our kiss this time around. No one was pulling away for a good long while, me still convulsively hugging the textbooks to my chest with aching arms. Soon, though, Professor Grant grabbed a hold of a bunch of them and tried to help me place them on the empty shelf space behind me while not breaking the kiss. They all slipped and crashed to the floor instead with a loud noise that echoed quickly around the room, making us both jump and laugh and stop kissing for a second. But he hurried back to me and firmly pressed me against the uncomfortably uneven surface behind me, his fingers clawing into my sides.

“Professor,” I breathed with a whimper into his desperate kisses as a sharp shelf corner dug into my back. He answered with a deep hum and I felt his smirk grow.

“I love it when you call me that,” he breathed back, his hands having found my bare skin under my cardigan. My heart was making my rib cage rattle as his teeth softly trapped my bottom lip and his hand cupped the underside of my breast. I couldn’t help but let a small moan out.

“And that’s a lovely sound, darling, do it again,” he whispered eagerly, his lips now below my ear sucking a harsh mark into my thin skin. I continued to whine and moan as I tugged at his shirt, pulling it out of his belted trousers and impatiently tearing the first few buttons open. He quickly took over and his skilled fingers rid his body of the shirt within seconds.

“Wait,” I breathed and pushed him off of me but kept him within reach. I had to take a good look at his body when I had finally gotten him topless. The thick stripes of light from the small windows coated his softly defined stomach and his chest heaved with his sharp breaths.

“Oh my god,” I muttered, tormented by his beauty, and my hands roamed down his shoulders and arms and to his narrow waist and hips. Beginning to fall back into his space, I kissed his collarbones. Mr. Grant smiled smugly at my surrender to his body but he protested and held me back.

“I want to see you too.”

I allowed him to hold me back and mindfully open the buttons down my front as I tried to control my breathing. His eyes fell on my nearly exposed breasts as he pushed my sleeves, along with my bra straps down my shoulders.

“You’re even more gorgeous than I imagined,” he mumbled and my insides fluttered at the thought of him imagining me naked.

“Have you been imagining undressing me, professor?” I taunted, wanting to hear him say it. He unclasped my bra and let it fall to the floor between us and nodded with his eyes intensely staring into mine.

“Couldn’t get the image out of my head of your body on mine.”

He leaned down and I felt his lips lock around my nipple and his hair tickle my bare skin.

“Your tight pussy around my cock,” he added in a low whisper and I whimpered again at the thought, and the sudden feeling of his large hand coating my damp underwear under my skirt.

“Fuck,” I exhaled onto his brown locks at him rubbing circles around my clit.

“Do I make you this wet, hm?” Mr. Grant asked and began kneeling in front of me, looking up into my eyes again. I shoved my hands into his soft hair and nodded.

“Yes, professor.”

He lifted my skirt up and connected his lips with my wet underwear, leaving precious kisses and listening closely to my whimpers. They only grew louder when his finger hooked into my pants and pulled them to the side, hurrying to reattach his lips and tongue.

“God, that feels so good,” I whined and combed my fingers through his fluffy hair, tightening my fist around the roots and making him groan at the slight pain.

“Yeah?” Professor Grant spurred me on. “Do you want my cock inside you, darling?”

“Yes, please.”

Him coming back up to kiss me again, I tasted myself on his lips. I couldn’t ponder on that for too long though as his body was pressed against me again and I felt his hard on between my thighs. Instantly I rushed to get his belt off.

His breaths hit my face sharply as his clothing dropped to the floor and he ran his tip along my wetness, making me moan in desperation.

Holding one of my already weak legs up to his hip, he pushed most of his length inside me and smiled darkly at the loud whimper that poured out of me in response.

“I know, I know, my love,” Mr. Grant muttered reassuringly, capturing the side of my head in his large palm and kissing my lips sweetly as he thrusted deeper.

“You’re doing so well, taking me so deep.”

I couldn’t think of any words to say back. My mind was a haze and my body a trembling mess as his hips slammed against mine at a faster pace now.

“You feel incredible,” he breathed into my ear and I continued to pant and moan into his. “Do you want to come on my cock, hm?”

He had begun rubbing my clit with his thumb. I couldn’t believe how good he was making me feel and all I could do was nod and cling onto his sturdy shoulders.

“Yes, yes, yes!” I whined and breathed into his neck and he kissed mine back. He sank his teeth into my skin slightly and the pain instantly pushed me over my edge, making my thighs shake and body twitch as he continued to stretch me out with deep thrusts.

“That’s it… So good for me,” Grant breathed and groaned at the feeling of me clenching around him. “Fuck!”

Just as his pounding was beginning to make me ache, he pulled out quickly and I watched in complete awe as he came over my chest and stomach. A string of moans and curses ripped from his throat, soon to be replaced by only his heavy breathing.

He caught the drops running down my breasts and belly with his fingers and thumb and for a second he was unsure where to go from there, at which I grabbed his wrist and guided his hand up to my mouth. I sucked his sticky fingers clean as I stared at his bright eyes and blushing cheeks, and his smirk grew again.

“You drive me crazy, Y/N,” Mr. Grant sighed with a slanted smile and he pulled his trousers up again. I blushed and bent down to get my cardigan off the floor. When I came back up he gave me another kiss, long and sweet and with his hand softly on my lower back.

“I’m afraid I might not be as strong after that,” I mumbled and we both chuckled breathily as we stared at the messy pile of books around our feet.

Mr. Grant gazed away and rubbed the back of his neck, his eyes hopping between notebooks and binders on the shelf to his left. I wasn’t sure if he felt regret or guilt or embarrassment. But he looked back at me after a moment and gave me a soft smile.

“Come on then,” he sighed with a chuckle and covered his beautiful back and arms with his shirt again before reaching for the textbooks.

[lulublack90]

Prompt 22 - Mountain

@jegulus-microfic March 22 Word count 854

Previous part First part

James was fretting. It couldn’t be a good thing that both Black parents were at Grimmauld Place. He worried when Regulus was at Death Eater meetings as Voldemort was liberal with his use of the Cruciatus curse when his followers displeased him, but at least Regulus had a house to go to and didn’t have to keep up the facade for long. But with Orion and Walburga, he would always have to be on guard. Then there was also the selfish side that James tried not to think about too much. With Lord and Lady Black in residence, Regulus would never be able to slip away and see him, and James had gotten used to seeing him on a regular basis, what with all their adventures and Thestral meetings. 

Sirius, on the other hand, was trying to convince himself that everything was absolutely fine because if he didn’t, he was going to end up breaking the door down of number 12 and yank his boyfriend and his brother out.

For now, though, James had to calm himself as they had an order meeting. No one else in the order knew about their true mission apart from Dumbledore and Mad-Eye. 

Most of the Order was already sitting at the long table of whoever’s house they were using. James knew better than to ask. He and Sirius took their seats and chattered with the members they were friendly with. Frank and his new wife Alice sat quietly, whispering to each other and by the blush that kept creeping across Frank's cheeks, James didn’t want to disturb them. Mary had no such qualms. 

“Oi, Alice, stop telling Frank what you’re going to do to him after the meeting and say hello.” It was Alice’s turn to blush. 

“Sorry, honeymoon period.” She giggled sweetly. “How is everyone?”

James had to grit his jaw as Peter greeted him, chatting happily about his promotion within the Ministry. Sirius kept a tight hold of his arm under the table to keep him from ripping Pettigrew apart. They had to keep that secret. They’d deal with him in the end. 

Lily wandered in just as Mary finished telling everybody about the disastrous cake she’d tried to make.

“Nearly burnt the flat down. I don’t know how Mum does it.”

James slipped her a note as she settled herself into her seat. He didn’t think anyone had seen as they were still enraptured in Mary’s description of the insanely fit fireman who turned up after she panicked and forgot she was a witch.

“Right, can we get started then?” Mad-Eye grunted, stopping all talk of the way the fireman’s biceps stretched his t-shirt so much that Mary was surprised it didn’t just rip apart. “So, I’ve gathered you all here because—” He was interrupted by Marlene banging the door off the wall as she entered late.

“You’ve got exactly 20 minutes of my time, Mad-Eye. Dorcas is waiting for me, and she’s said she’ll start without me if I’m not back on time.” James watched as Alastor Moody closed his eye and took a few deep breaths before he confronted Marlene. 

“McKinnon, you’re late. Sit down and listen up.” His growling words were barely audible, but everyone in the room heard them. Marlene hurried over to Mary and took her place around the table. “Right as I was saying.” He glared at Marlene, who wasn’t embarrassed in the least. “Ladies and Gentlemen, we have a spy.” The room went silent. 

Dumbledore had already told him they needed to alert the others that there was a spy. They needed the other members to be more careful with what information they told whom and more secretive with where they were talking. Dumbledore didn’t want to reveal that they knew it was Peter, but he wanted to limit what true information he was able to glean from the others. 

James watched as Peter squirmed in his seat. He wanted so badly to just out him now and let the order have at him. But he knew how much Dumbledore wanted to use him. It made his blood boil.

Moody had a list of new rules that had to be followed in the letter. They were now under strict instructions not to tell even other order members what any of their assignments involved. “Now get out,” Moody ordered once the meeting was over. “I’ve got a mountain of paperwork to get through, and you’re all keeping me from it."  

“I wish we could go to Evan’s.”James huffed at Sirius once they’d left the meeting, “I need Barty to describe his plan on how to deal with Peter.” The bubbling anger was still just beneath the surface, and he was having trouble keeping it in. If Sirius had had his dog ears at that moment, they would have perked up. He suddenly apparated, leaving James standing alone in the alleyway entrance. 

A few moments later, Sirius’s dog patronus appeared. It opened its mouth, and Sirius’s voice called out. “Come on, loser, we’re waiting.” James felt the smile spread across his face as he apparated to Rosier House.       

Next part

[just-xylia]

Ok, so the thing is I very much feel like Castorice could very easily be paired with every member of Starchfly. So time to go through each person one by one and explain how. Of course, spoilers for 3.0 main story quest so please don’t read ahead if you haven’t finished yet.

So Stelle seems like the easiest option here. The hug from the music video just feels like a good starting point cause like what the heck is up with that and when are we going to get into that in the story? Also like, Castorice the adorable girl who always acts all formal with everyone using proper titles and all who always follows Aglea’s orders actually went behind her back to try and get Phainon to save us. Also you know the genuine giggles we get out of her when feeding the cute Dino’s? Goodness so so good. I’m sure there’s more but I feel like StelleXCastorice is the one I need to spend the least amount of time proving. (And no, none of this applies to Caelus as well, Caelus doesn’t exist)

March is an interesting one and honestly is based more in theory than anything, (but it’s theory with evidence so bear with me) One point that I don’t need to go theory brain for is their shared love of cameras and photography? Like goodness I can imagine the two of them having a super long discussion about cameras in general and photography and yeah. It’d be cute. Also like, if you find and talk to Castorice after the main story quest, she says that she can’t remember anything from before a certain point when she entered the city she came from I guess? I don't remember the names of places but the point is, there is a chunk of her life she doesn’t remember, something that is very similar to Stelle and March’s situations. 

Now to take a deep dive into some theories about where the plot of AMphoreus is going to better understand potential for MarchXCastorice, we have to take a look at what the heck is up with March and what exactly her deal with Amphoreus is. I honestly feel like it’s pretty obvious that March is the Mother that Oronyx mentioned. (Given how the titan reacted to Stelle taking a picture with March’s Camera.) So, then who is Mem? Well, we see with Nikador that it is possible for at least a Titan to split their soul, I think that’s what either happened to March or what March did to herself. And Mem is one of the missing parts of March’s soul. Or maybe the only missing part of March’s soul. Regardless, Looking at how Oronyx reacted to the Chrysos heir's prophecy and how they reacted to Stelle having met their ‘Mother’ I genuinely think that the mother, who is most likely March, must have set up some plan that goes against the prophecy that Aglaea seems determined to follow. Basically, I do not think that the Titan’s will be the end game and I think the only character currently truly beginning to question if the way Aglaea is pushing is the only way is Castorice. Castorice seems to truly be the only one who is showing true pity for these titans, by saying sweet dreams to Oronyx and giving Nikador a peaceful send off. Heck, she even starts to question it out loud before cutting herself off. Genuinely I feel like March’s condition is going to worsen for some amount of time until we reach a critical point in the story where Dan Heng and Stelle finally get back in contact with the express and find out what is going on with March. Then we’ll have to reunite Mem with March, get a potential 5 star March form, and she’ll lead to the true end game where we dismantle this prophecy and make a better world for the titans and Humans. And the first native of Amphoreus to be on board with that plan? Most likely Castorice, as she already has a soft spot for these titans. Yet another thing to make Castorice loyal to March and Stelle. Of course I’m sure Phainon would join to cause he’s the main support this time around for some reason, but he’s boring and we aren’t talking about him so ignore him, he doesn’t get a role in Morning Glories. Basically, I don’t know if Aglaea or the Council of Elders or hell, maybe even Phainon will be the end game final Amphoreus fight, but Castorice will be team March and Stelle if I’m right about this. 

Now FireflyXCatorice was honestly a bit trickier to find a connection for, well, until Castorice started talking about how over all she valued Life over death. An approach that Firefly seems pretty close to. Hell, if anyone in the universe has a viewpoint similar to Firefly’s, it’s Castorice. Castorice says that even if death can’t be avoided, at least she hopes there is beauty to it. That sounds pretty similar to what Firely says about Fireflies. Honestly both of them seem to value life above death, but don’t fear death, at least that's how I see them. So I can at least see a deep connection form from that alone. Also I can’t help but wonder if Firefly would be spared from Castorice’s death touch if she was in SAM. Basically, can Firefly touch Castorice in SAM and live? These are the questions we need to ask. Also, both Castorice and Firefly react to Stelle buying out an entire store in front of them (Sure in Firefly’s case we are spending her money), but they both do tend to have relatively negative reactions to you over spending which is a pretty cute similarity.

Anyway, that’s where I’m at so far. Maybe as Amphoreus continues we’ll get more tea. I’m willing to hear out any other thoughts on this as well. :)