#The whole world isn't anyones responsibility
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The (133k 💀) notes on this post are FULL of people referencing 1984. Like I would guess about every third reblog with tags/comments mentions 1984.
And I'm not saying 1984 doesn't have relevance but I'm actually genuinely interested that in like 60k reblogs, I'm not sure anyone's made the literary comparison I would make, which is Farenheit 451.
See, cause 1984 is about state suppression of information. But Farenheit 451 is about the idea that, as the state of the world gets more distressing, people become increasingly hostile to the idea of discomfort, and refuse to acknowledge or speak about things that affect them. The first event of the story is the main character's wife attempting suicide, but when he tries to talk to her about what's wrong, she reacts as if the only problem is that he's talking about something negative.
So I kinda wonder why so many reblogs agree that 1984 is the reference point for this
maybe some of it is the role 1984 plays in the cultural canon and some of it is that, while it's a good book, a non-zero amount of F451 is also based on 'political correctness gone mad! shakespeare is cancelled because of Woke!'
but also
I think it speaks to the difference between what I was thinking of when I made this post (that people tend to a) confuse discomfort with harm and b) treat the word for a subject as the source of discomfort about the subject) to how the majority of people seem to read the post (social media censorship is stealing our language)
cause 1984 is about imposed censorship. and the majority of discussions mentioning 1984 on this post are referencing social media companies and occasionally governments legislating against certain language or topics. language is Taken From You by others, with the deliberate purpose of silencing dissent.
but Farenheit 451, while it includes very similar types of state suppression and manufactured consent, doesn't really frame the problem as originating from a dictatorial state but from our own communities' fear, looking for a target and for ways to feel comfortably innocent. That's not necessarily a more complete read than the 1984 one but it's closer to what I was originally thinking of.
Not talking about rape doesn't protect people from the effects of rape, just like not taking about depression or war or pain doesn't stop the characters in F451 trying to kill themselves to the degree there's a special emergency service devoted to undoing suicides. But people react as if it does.
And there's a whole lot I could also get into about how I think both this problem and the literary comparison connects to things like cosy fandom culture, and the proliferation of blockbuster franchises, and the fact that people are more up in arms about ship wars than actual genocide, and the Sex Scenes In Media discourse, and the discomfort around public expressions of 'deviant' sexualities or gender, and how we discuss discomfort as if it was harm, but those are different posts and this post is about language.
and 1984 is a perfectly apt (or doubleplus good) comparison, I just think it has the potential for fully externalising something which we need to also take some direct community responsibility for. It isn't just about what you're Allowed to say or what people say to you, it's about what role discomfort plays in our own minds and whether we feel it's an inherent evil to be uncomfortable.
you gotta be able to say "die"
you gotta be able to say "suicide"
you gotta be able to talk about "sex"
they're uncomfortable topics, YEAH for SURE
because LIFE is uncomfortable. Death and suicide and sex and pain are straight up going to happen. not having words for the way it discomforts you doesn't make it more comfortable, it just makes you less able to reach out about it.
even more vital, you gotta be able to say words like "rape", "abuse", "queer" or "racist". cause we fought fucking hard to name those experiences. to identify "rape" as distinct from "sex" and "racism" as distinct from "acceptable behaviour" and "queer" as distinct from "invert"
like the function of communication is not to minimise immediate discomfort. we gotta be able to talk about stuff that's hard or sucks or causes difficult conversations.
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09 Ghost has a designated chair in Soap's office.
Soap doesn't clue into it at first. In the beginning, it was just an extra chair stuck in the corner of his office. It was old and worn, and he had a newer one in the other corner, but it was only for him to use when he needed a break while working, or for company, so he didn't care to replace it. Then Ghost started hanging around after hours, or even just during the workday, tending to his own responsibilities while Soap worked, but every time he'd sit in that exact chair. It confused Soap for a minute, and at first he'd try to make small talk, not wanting Ghost to feel uncomfortable or unwelcome, but eventually he catches on that Ghost isn't interested in conversation, or any interaction. He just doesn't want to be alone. Just wants to have a little company without the pressure of actually having to engage in social activities.
So Soap doesn't say anything when some of Ghost's belongings, officeware and paperwork start accumulating in a small bin under the chair overtime.
He doesn't say anything when he walks up to his office one afternoon to do some paperwork, only to find it unlocked and a bell set on top to alert anyone inside, and merely sits down at his desk to work on his reports when he sees Ghost curled up and out cold in the chair.
He doesn't bring it up when he continues to find Ghost curled up in his chair, sleeping or otherwise, even when Soap isn't in his office. Eventually he gets used to Ghost just being an accessory to his office, like a picture frame or a little basket of pens, always there, even when he wasn't.
He does say something when another recruit is in his office and they go to sit in that chair and he's struck with this overwhelming feeling of just... wrong and politely but firmly directs them to the other chair because 'that's not their chair'.
The first time Soap walked into his office after Shepperd's betrayal, and he sets eyes on that empty chair, he feels like a cold bucket of water was dumped over him, because seeing that chair empty has a whole different meaning now. It didn't mean Ghost was just off training or busy with other things. It didn't mean Ghost was just tied up somewhere else busy working. No, now that empty chair was a sign of pain. A symbol, of how Soap had been betrayed, a constant reminder of how the person that chair belonged to was no longer around to use it.
It takes a solid three weeks of Soap gathering his things and working somewhere else on base before he can finally stand the thought of sitting in his otherwise empty office to do his paperwork. The first time he does, he has to take multiple breaks to sob and pull at his hair and curse the world, and curse himself because damn it he should've known better than to get used to something that could get taken away from him so easily.
A few months later, Soaps snaps at an ignorant rookie who sees the old worn out chair and suggests getting rid of it, replacing it with something in better shape, and he only has half a heart to feel bad after the fact.
That chair never leaves Soap's office, even after he dies, because Price knew. He knew and he doesn't have the heart to clear out Soap's office. Not yet. Not for a long time. It isn't until Price leaves active duty and someone else takes over that that office gets cleared out, and even then, that chair and most of the belongings in that office leave with Price, set up and stored safely in a room in his house, because he'll be damned if he lets the only things left of his teammates just get thrown away, like they never mattered. Because they mattered to each other, more than anything or anyone else.
#ghostsoap#ghoap#09 Ghoap#09 Ghost#09 Simon Ghost Riley#09 soap#09 soap Mactavish#09 modern warfare 2#09 MW2#09 captain price#Chase writes#call of duty#call of duty modern warfare 2#cod modern warfare
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We keep seeing posts about how you're not doing enough for the Current Events flavour of the month if you're not doing Specific Thing and therefore you're Evil and Bad and genuinely, that literally doesn't help people who can't do shit and just hurts their mental state. This isn't about any one thing. Yes there's plenty of worthy causes to take action in the name of, the world sucks! But many people aren't able to contribute in ways other than sharing content online, or even at all, and that's okay!
Yes there's need for support for many things but people who may already be hurting can't be expected to carry the weight of the world on their shoulders. Being fed bad food and told "there's starving children in the world who would appreciate this, you're so ungrateful" is a similar kind of thing to the stuff we're seeing--others suffering doesn't always mean you need to make yourself suffer to try to help them. You shouldn't be forced to have less than the bare minimum because no one should. "You're privileged that you get to ignore others suffering elsewhere"--yes! But we're also disabled and literally can't help anyone, even ourselves, if we don't have the energy to. Our help is nothing if we put all of our energy into things we can't fix and expend what little energy we have for ourselves. We don't even have enough money to live, some people can't give money or time and it's not always out of greed or hate! Stop acting like poor people who can barely feed themselves need to donate to things--go talk to the people hoarding all the damn money!
Stop guilt tripping. Spreading awareness is amazing but acting like people online are the villains for needing space and time isn't the way to be activists, you're harming people and preying on those with things like moral ocd under the guise of helping others.
#this might be a hot take and if you clown you'll be blocked#if it gets too bad we might turn reblogs off#but please be sensible#The whole world isn't anyones responsibility#be kind but please don't hurt yourself!#aim for action from those who won't be harmed by taking it#op#fin (he/him)#not tagging with any particular tag#tw#tw: discourse
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Stop fighting me and together, let us fight them.
#ropedit#tropedit#rop spoilers#rings of power#the rings of power#ringsofpowerdaily#ringsofpowersource#halbrand#galadriel#sauron#isildur#estrid#haladriel#rop s1#rop s2#rop 1x05#rop 2x04#parallels#quote#*#isildur with the reassuring response trying to overcome estrid's attempt at distancing herself#galadriel and halbrandron meanwhile on a whole other path of feeling cast out together and relating through that#(i didn't include the brimby scene when sauron is like “she cast me out when she discovered the truth” bc it didn't fit the vibe of the set#(but that's the endpoint of manipulation and using shared ostracization as a means of us vs the world)#(in a way i wonder if galadriel planted that idea in sauron's head since she's the one who first roped him into a 'partnership')#(how much of an actual one is up to interpretation)#(brimby isn't head first running towards a suspect individual like galadriel did (lbr) he's just pure and utter confusion)#(complete good faith like yeah okay i'll receive you with an open heart my friend why would anyone cast you out idgi)#(i could write an essay clearly i'm thinking about this way too much lol)
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What if I proposed the analysis that Belos actually has very little internal moral compass and that his veneer of righteousness has always been implied by the writers to be complete fabricated bullshit even before watching and dreaming basically confirms it.
#ramblings of a lunatic#^shes going in drafts untagged bc a) philip stans who insist on the morally misguided angle terrify me in their persistence#and b) i would have to actually rewatch episodes and whatnot#but i think i can build credence to the idea that him and caleb started off not invested in witch hunting for moral righteousness#but numb to it via cultural normalisation and THUS. had an amoral approach to the whole thing#and the only thing either of them as orphan outsiders ever really would've gained from witch hunting would've been careers and recognition#a sense that they're heroes- not in the moral sense but in the narrative sense. that they were protagonists#The Most Important Boys so to speak#the difference being Caleb at some point decided witch hunting was wrong (i.e like hunter did. grew a moral compass)#and philip still navigated the world amorally 400 years later only motivated by a petty grudge and deep buried guilt#the latter of which is nearly irrelevant to anyone who isn't philip bc clearly he priorities that grudge above it#this is just a personal petty opinion#but i honestly don't think the 'delusional and petty' angle is any less complex than the 'moral crusader' angle w/ his character#and it matches the whole 'hes a magic conservative' message way better than his motives being genuine#one day I'll rewatch that scene in WaD and see if Philip fans are onto something and I've been drinking the pond water#or if it's actually congruent with his character like I've since come to see it and like i know many saw it the first time round#anyway this is actually all for me. in drafts you go#edit: hi. it's the ladel of like. 3 weeks after i made this and put it in drafts. it's nearly 1 am rn and- in my delirium-#i have decided to publish it#i doubt it'll do much w/ regards to response bc fandom has been on the quiet side lately (tho that can always change(#plus I made a similar post insinuating the same notion and it got ZERO traction positive or negative#which tells me I'm good to just say shit for the most part (in a good natured way)#anyway. hits post cutely (i am so fucking tired)
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Any opinion on the Pokemon Gigaleak or nah?
I think seeing some of the WIP assets from when gen 3 was in development is kinda neat, because Game Freak is normally so secretive about that kind of thing. But beyond that I mostly just find this whole situation tiring.
Fans have a tendency to almost treat scrapped material as "more canon" than whatever actually made it into the finished product, in a way. It's treated as this pure, unfiltered insight into the creators' true vision. In reality, most of the time this stuff gets cut for a reason. Sometimes they very quickly realize it was a bad idea that was never gonna work, and they don't go very far with it. Sometimes it's a pitch from just one guy on the team that was never gonna get accepted. Sometimes they're just spitballing. Experimentation and iteration and knowing when to cut things are integral parts of the artistic process.
And hell, a lot of the time creators will just mess around with an idea purely as a creative exercise, or to get an idea out of their system, or to explore a crazy what-if scenario, or even just as a joke, with no intention of ever actually using those ideas. We recently saw this same thing happened with those leaked Rebecca Sugar sketches, where people were like "OMG Rebecca ships this, this is what they REALLY wanted to do with the show, this is canon, this was happening off-screen!!" And it's like, y'all have no idea how much crazy shit your favorite artists draw with their characters just to amuse themselves. The crew on Clarence had a not-so-secret Tumblr where they redrew scenes from Evangelion with Clarence characters. That doesn't mean they wanted to turn Clarence into Eva. They were just screwing around. This happens all the time, and with way more extreme examples than these. Lord knows how many Disney animators have drawn Mickey Mouse with his dick out over the years. That doesn't mean they ever actually wanted to make an official Mickey Mouse porno.
And, of course, there's the response to those myths that were never supposed to see the light of day. Anyone who's even passingly familiar with mythology from just about any part of the world shouldn't be surprised to hear fables about humans and animals having babies or whatever. But now people are responding to those unused stories and going "OMG Game Freak is a bunch of gooners who want humans and Pokemon to have sex!! This is canon!!!" It's so fucking tiring. So much of the modern internet, particularly Twitter, is driven by people who just want an excuse to whip out their favorite shocked/disgusted reaction image and ham up their reaction to something that isn't actually all that shocking. Everyone just wants to get their funny dunks in and feign moral superiority. It's childish. And it's because of reactions like this that this stuff was never supposed to see the light of day in the first place. But fans feel like they're owed every single shred of info from the development of their favorite franchises, so these leaks happen and people run wild with them.
(It also doesn't help that this is all just sourced back to a 4chan thread, so people were posting fake shit between the real leaks and muddying the waters. And also most of it is in Japanese, so people are just sticking documents through Google Translate and going "whooooaaaa this is canon")
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So uhh. If you feel like talking about it. As someone who lives in the US, how are you being kind to yourself on this upsetting morning <3
Checked in with my loved ones first and foremost.
It's interesting. The vibe I've been getting from my circle is very different from 2016. Much less… dread and horror at a realignment of the understanding of what can and can't happen here, now, in this place and day and age. More "fuck, guys. again? whatever. enjoy your consequences, maybe you'll manage to learn something this time."
Frustration and anger is not the most positive feeling, or even the most fair one to express, but it is a protective one. It hurts a lot less than most alternatives.
And it's quite a shift. It was earthshattering back then. How could this have been allowed to happen? Why couldn't it be stopped? Why couldn't we stop it? Why couldn't I stop it? Why couldn't everyone see what this meant? Why couldn't I make them understand? Did they really not care? What did that mean about humanity as a whole? Were we so thoughtless? How could anyone be trusted?
It seems… much less earthshattering to see it happen twice. Disappointing, sure. Frustrating. But nowhere near as devastating as the first time I saw it unfold. We already knew it could happen. I've already had time to digest the implications. Now I'm just freshly disappointed.
It also feels less indicative of Crushing Truths Of Reality this time. We've seen shit get bad. We've also seen shit get better from here! We know both outcomes are possible, even inevitable. We know hoping for a better future is always worthwhile. This isn't the apocalypse. It's an unremarkably bad turn of events brought on by unremarkably self-centered well-documented human impulses. It's utterly mundane in its unpleasantness. It doesn't need to be dignified with despair.
A democratic election, no matter the outcome or the side we're on, makes us all acutely aware of how outnumbered we are by people whose worldviews and priorities are demonstrably incomprehensible to us. And the first time you get outnumbered, it's a shock. Defeat is haunting. It didn't matter how badly you wanted it; by the very function of democracy, you do not have the power to override greater numbers. (insert electoral college caveat here)
The second time through, I find myself focusing on a different facet that has dramatically reduced the amount of spiralling I'm doing. I don't expect this to work for everyone, but for me specifically, it helped to crystallize a few thoughts:
You don't have the power to control anyone else. You don't. You can't share your worldview and your revelations with them. You can't make them think or understand anything. You can lay it all out for them, but you can't make them listen, and you can't make it click. A mentor can't make their student learn a lesson; that's why teaching is so complicated and hard. An active choice must be made by the person to enable themselves to understand, and they must put the pieces together in their own mind before it makes sense to them, and the pieces must have been presented in a way that makes sense to them in the first place. Lead a horse to water, can't make them drink.
These elections highlight a disconnect in what different groups of people care about; and no matter how clearly you explain yourself or how passionately you perform, caring cannot be forced on someone. Understanding and connection cannot be forced. You cannot make anything or anyone matter to someone. They have to choose to see how it matters in order to internalize it. If they choose not to, that is not your failing. You couldn't have made them do it by just Explaining Better. They are not your responsibility. They make their own choices. You can't reach inside their head and connect the dots for them.
I'm a storyteller. I make stories and put them out into the world. I hope people get something good out of them, but I have no control over what that something is. I want people to be thoughtful and kind and compassionate and hopeful and see themselves reflected in stranges, no matter their differences. I can craft stories that I hope encourage this. But that is the extent of my ability and the extent of my responsibility. I control no-one's actions but my own, and so while I am not having the best day, I am at least content that I am doing what I can, and I am not shattering myself against impossibilities trying to control the things I can't.
Sometimes, people make decisions that I think are really bad. I can't make that not happen. All I can do is try to make decisions that will result in things I think are good. Today, that means checking in on people, and not assigning too much dramatic narrative weight to an ultimately mundane set of unremarkable bad decisions outside of my control. We'll take life as it comes and help each other out when and how we can. Everything else is out of our hands.
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I've been reading Iron Flame by Rebecca Yarros, and it's gotten me thinking about how worldbuilding is multilayered, and about how a failure of one layer of the worldbuilding can negatively impact the book, even if the other layers of the worldbuilding work.
I don't want to spoil the book for anyone, so I'm going to talk about it more broadly instead. In my day job, one of the things I do is planning/plan development, and we talk about plans broadly as strategic, operational, and tactical. I think, in many ways, worldbuilding functions the same way.
Strategic worldbuilding, as I think of it, is how the world as a whole works. It's that vampires exist and broadly how vampires exist and interact with the world, unrelated to the characters or (sometimes) to the organizations that the characters are part of. It's the ongoing war between Earth and Mars; it's the fact that every left-handed person woke up with magic 35 years ago; it's Victorian-era London except every twelfth day it rains frogs. It's the world, in the broadest sense.
Operational worldbuilding is the organizations--the stuff that people as a whole are doing/have made within the context of that strategic-level world. For The Hunger Games, I'd probably put the post-apocalyptic nature of the world and even the existence/structure of the districts as the strategic level and the construct of the Hunger Games as the operational level: the post-apocalyptic nature of the world and the districts are the overall world that they live in, and the Hunger Games are the construct that were created as a response.
Tactical worldbuilding is, in my mind, character building--and, specifically, how the characters (especially but not exclusively the main characters) exist within the context of the world. In The Hunger Games, Katniss has experience in hunting, foraging, wilderness survival, etc. because of the context of the world that she grew up in (post-apocalyptic, district structure, Hunger Games, etc.). This sort of worldbuilding, to me, isn't about the personality part of the characterization but about the context of the character.
Each one of these layers can fail independently, even if the other ones succeed. When I think of an operational worldbuilding failure, I think of Divergent, where they took a post-apocalyptic world and set up an orgnaizational structure that didn't make any sense, where people are prescribed to like 6 jobs that don't in any way cover what's required to run a modern civilization--or even to run the society that they're shown as running. The society that they present can't exist as written in the world that they're presented as existing in--or if they can, I never could figure out how when reading the book (or watching the film).
So operational worldbuilding failures can happen when the organizations or societies that are presented don't seem like they could function in the context that they are presented in or when they just don't make any sense for what they are trying to accomplish. If the story can't reasonably answer why is this organization built this way or why do they do what they do then I see it as an organizational worldbuilding failure.
For tactical worldbuilding failures, I think of stories where characters have skillsets that conveniently match up with what they need to solve the problems of the plot but don't actually match their background or experience. If Katniss had been from an urban area and never set foot in a forest, it wouldn't have worked to have her as she was.
In this way (as in planning), the tactical level should align with the operational level which should align with the strategic level--you should be able to trace from one to the next and understand how things exist in the context of each other.
For that reason, strategic worldbuilding failures are the vaguest to explain, but I think of them like this: if it either 1) is so internally inconsistent that it starts to fall apart or 2) leaves the reader going this doesn't make any sense at all then it's probably failed.
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I find it really interesting how Bill reiterates that he saw Ford as "a human pet" and a tool for him to use in his plans, but in the end the closest he has ever come to telling the truth to SOMEONE about what happened in Euclydia is to him of all people.
In the Book of Bill in the part about his past where all the redacted stuff is (where it is pretty much confirmed that he in fact, killed or is responsible for everyone dying) Bill himself tells the reader:
"The important thing is, I freed myself from my suffocating world, and freed everyone else too, and everyone loved me for it, and everyone was fine! And that's all there is to say about that! "
And well, it clearly is a lie to us, the readers, who just saw the previous paragraph full of people apparently screaming, seeing lots of blood, and being "the last one breathing". Bill also adds how every time he tries to talk about that day he starts hearing a loud buzzing as well as black outs for half a minute which is a super normal response when you are just freeing people and stuff(/j) . Things is tho, this version where everyone " was freed" Seems to be the official version, the one that Bill tells everyone. This is seen in the new webpage where by putting "tantrum" you see a scene where Time Baby straight up calls Bill out on killing everyone and Bill's henchmen are surprised by it as they were told by him that "he liberated the people of his dimension".
Even when he first met Ford, he says "I went no contact with my home dimension and I don't regret it", which implies that he was ready to feed him that version initially. But THEN later on you get the Scene™. It's not until after some time has passed between them when Bill tells him about how his entire home dimension was destroyed... By a monster, all while looking uncharacteristically distant. And sure one could argue that it was a play on Ford's emotions, to try to win him over and manipulate him further but it's too touchy of a subject for even his henchmen to know. The same interview on the webpage where he talks about manipulating Ford, preying on his insecurities and him being a human pet, ends with the interviewer asking "Let's talk about your parents" And Bill automatically shutting it down altogether. When he gets drunk after him and Ford part ways he calls for "a Sixer" And in the same scene starts calling out to his mom.
In the end the closest he has ever come to owning up to it to anyone that isn't himself (and even then, seems like he's forced to by the voices that keep weighting on his conscience as seen in the webpage) is to Ford. And he won absolutely nothing from it.
As another fun detail, in the webpage if you type "Lies" You get a whole page of Bill talking about lying and it ends with a graphic that says "Lie until you aren't lying anymore".
And what's the input used to get the interview where Bill talks about Ford and calls him a human pet and a tool?
"Evenhisliesarelies".
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TOP 10 PERSONAL FAVE MOVIES TO WATCH WHEN YOU FEEL LIKE ASS
I don't like movies that stress me out because life is already stressful but I DO love catharsis comedy found family friendship fantasy and violence so here are my top 10 movies and series to have a good time watching
Numbered for convenience but not in any particular order
John Wick 1 and 2: An ordinary man grieving the loss of his wife gets dragged back into his past as a shadowy, invisible world of international killers for hire is slowly revealed to be living among us. A love note to set design, lighting, and choreography. My favourite part is fixating on the symbolism. DO NOT WATCH 3. 4 is okay. DO NOT WATCH 3. There is a dog death in 1 that will make you cry so skip that part if you have to. DO NOT WATCH 3.
The lord of the Rings, all 3, extended edition best watched if you're on the couch with the flu and expect to fall asleep OR if it's your day off and it's raining outside OR if you have like 5 people lounging around in pajamas
Six Underground: Essentially an hour and a half long car commercial music video with found family and a fresher take on acommon plot. Ryan Reynolds essentially writes and directs a Michael Bay movie where 6 independant criminals gather together to overthrow a violent foreign dictatorship. You show up for a dumb heist and walk out ready to build a guillotine. TW for violence, car crashes, chemical warfare, and genocide. A very cathartic ending. Does unfortunately do the whole "vague, impoverished middle-eastern country" thing but the citizens are actually show as human beings which is a nice change of pace and oh wow that's depressing isn't it
The Princess Diaries 1 and 2: A sort-of-a-loser teenage girl, played by a 2001 Annie Hathaway, learns that her late father was a king of a foreign nation and must become a confident and responsible leader for his people. There is a scene in the rain where you will experience emotions. Best watched with snacks. 2 features an enemies-to-lovers type deal with Chris Pine.
Ella Enchanted: A shrek-style semi-musical fantasy romance in which a young woman is cursed at birth to do everything anyone tells her to do. Features several Queen songs and dance numbers sung by Annie Hathaway and that guy who plays the sad dog guy in Hannibal.
Stardust: A huge loser travels from 1800s England (?) to a magical world in order to fetch a fallen star for the insufferable love of his life before she marries a massive douchebag. The huge loser? Charlie Cox. The star? A living person. Also a whole bunch of princes are ALSO looking for them as a race for the throne while discreetly killing each other off. And also a bunch of witches want to eat her so they can be young and sexy. 11/10. I used to watch this 10 minutes at a time on a YouTube channel that posted it in chunks filmed on a digital camera in their living room
The Last Holiday: Queen Latifah, playing someone played by Queen Latifah, has been working an underappreciated minimum wage job for years, living a safe and conservative life trying to lose weight and save money. Then she finds out she has months to live, and decides to finally quit her job and blow it all on one massive luxury holiday vacation complete with five-star dining, making friends and finding love and confidence along the way. It's definitely corny but it makes me so happy thank you Queen Latifah
Zathura: It's the plot to the original Jumanji but in space instead of the rainforest. But listen to me: There's a twist reveal at the end that you need to pretend isn't there. It is vitally important when you get to that part- and you will know what part when it happens- that you pretend it didn't. Otherwise, a fresh and enjoyable adventure for any age!
Redacted cause I haven't seen it in a long time and it may be worse than I remember, gotta rewatch
Bullet Train. You go in expecting a ham-fisted find-the-mcguffin style action comedy and are blindsided by excellent narrative symmetry and genuinely likeable characters. Fresh takes on old themes and creative action sequences. My little brother said "It's good", and he's a man who once sincerely argued that Lord of the Rings could have been better. It's fun and punchy violence with just enough smart stuff to not let your brain get bored
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Sylus SFW/NSFW Headcanon/s
⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘
A/n: I genuinely couldn’t resist. I’m sorry. This is also my first time writing headcanons that are NSFW! I hope you like it! And I based Sylus on that anonymous man that Rafayel was talking to, while it’s definitely inaccurate, I didn’t know where to base him from aside from the leaked trailer, I hope you like this one!
Masterlist
Pairing: Sylus x AFAB Reader
Warning: NSFW Up ahead! This is for 18+ readers. Stockholm Syndrome, TOXIC! Obsessive love, unhealthy relationship. Degradation
Tell me if I left a warning out, I’ll update this immediately.
Credits: The line dividers are from Kaomoji; the art is from Love and Deepspace ⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘
SFW: ✧ He’s the kind of person who won't hold back. After you were handed to him like a free meal, he decided that whatever you discussed with Xavier and Rafayel would fail, and he’d ensure it. Even if the plan was to infiltrate Onychinus, he would absolutely make sure it failed.
✧ When Rafayel handed you over to him, he was so elated that he ordered his men to take you to his home as soon as you were drugged, where you’ll be kept trapped. Unlike the other male leads, he isn't upfront but rather lurks in the shadows, stalking your every move.
✧ Even though he acknowledges your capability and doesn’t see you as a weakling, he will ensure you remain completely obedient to him. If you try to escape, he will isolate you further, providing only food and water to keep you alive. In his view, isolation is the most effective method of punishment, especially if it means breaking your spirit to force your obedience.
✧ He despises you. He hates how you make him feel like he's dependent on your presence, while you, on the other hand, don’t even know him, to himself, you were his whole world. Sylus won’t tell you how easy it is for you to have him under your thumb.
✧ You may hate him for your own reasons, and he can see it in your eyes. Yes, he might have been responsible for the explosion that took your childhood friend and grandmother, but it wasn’t entirely intentional. He didn’t expect you to come home so early that day; it was a miscalculation on his part. He won’t tell you that though, he likes seeing you so focused on him with an emotion you would never feel for the other men in your life. The hatred fuels him.
✧ Now while he’s lenient with you growling and squirming like a mutt, if you try to bite and hurt him back, he’s going to make sure to put a collar around your neck, you’re being a bad pet. He’ll make sure that you drop that disobedience before he’s forced to make it leak out of you instead.
✧ If you start to relax, or simply get tired of trying to escape, he will reward you by letting you go out with him. However, if you try to speak or ask for help, the collar around your neck will inject you with drugs that will turn your brain to mush, ensuring you won’t betray him in public. Not that anyone would dare to save you; he’s confident a few people recognize him.
✧ Oh, don’t take him as someone reckless though, he takes extra measures to prevent you from acting out. Once he implements those safety measures, he’ll be happy to buy you outfits that fit his aesthetic, or anything you’d like really. Sometimes he’ll be nice to you, only sometimes.
✧ I think it’s obvious how he shows his hatred and love for you in these headcanons, he’s going to make sure to tear down that confidence you have, he’ll break you. One of his methods would be to have you be eaten by guilt till you start blaming yourself instead of him. He’s good with his words, he wouldn’t be gaining such loyal followers without it. ⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘
NSFW:
✧ BRAT TAMER TO THE FULLEST, he wouldn’t let you act out at all, if you tried, he’s gonna have you bent over the wall while he smacks your ass, making sure his handprint stays marked there. Till you can’t sit down comfortably, actually he won’t even let you test if you can sit down properly, cause he’ll have you sitting on his lap, it can be during a meeting with his trusted companions, imagine a console table with almost 10 people along with him in front, while people are discussing their plans, you can’t even hear it properly cause of how deep his fingers are pumping in and out, his thumb pressing on your clit. If you let out a yelp he'd chuckle before nipping on your ear.
“Quiet, you’re distracting them” he’d murmur while squeezing your waist as a warning.
✧ While he gives off a vibe of being a dominant top if you want to ride him, he’ll let you, however with the condition that you make him cum before you do, which fails! Cause he has a pretty good endurance, you poor girl. Once he wins, he’ll flip you down, pinning your arms up while spreading your legs further, hand pressing on your soft tummy.
“Can’t even ride properly huh? You want me to do all the work pretty girl?"
✧ HATE SEX is one of his favorites, once you get the privilege to go out, if he ever sees you try to speak to another man aside from the bodyguards, he sent to watch over you while he’s busy, he’s going to use that as a reason to leave multiple marks on your body, specifically your neck. You can’t even hide it, along with the bite marks on your thighs. Oh right, not like anyone can see it, you’re forbidden from going out till he milks you of every orgasm he can pull out of you for the next few days.
✧ The type to finger you while you’re in public, if you’re wearing something short, like a skirt, he’ll lift it up, sliding his hand underneath your panty before fingering you. Make sure you don't make too much noise now, or people will notice, slut.
✧ He’s messy, the type to eat you out like a man starved, watch him suck on your clit while he pushes his fingers on your sweet spot, he had his arms wrapped around your thighs just so you don’t try to run away from his skillful tongue, the type of man to make you squirt and once he does he gets drunks over your taste, pulling away a bit just to look at you,
“One more, I know you can take it” he’d say before giving your puffy clit a kiss."
#love and deepspace#love and deepspace sylus#sylus x reader#lads sylus#sylus smut#i'm in love with him please help#l&ds x reader#l&ds
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Yandere Tighnari, Venti, lyney, Freminet and Aether finding out Reader isn't really into short guys They're into someone bigger and taller {{Itto For Aether, Alhaitham for Tighnari, Nevillete for both Lyney and Freminet and Zhongli for Venti}}
I READ THIS AND WAS LIKE YESSSSSS!!! (As a short person I find this hilarious and your idea is literally genius!) I hope you enjoy and thank you so much for your request!
─⊰⊹ฺ✿𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕟 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤⊰⊹ฺ✿─
{༻~Just not that into short bois~༺}
CW: Yandere themes!, characters are obsessive to the point of wanting to harm others so they can't take you, unrequited love, intense jealousy, mild angst! Lyney makes Neuvillette disappear! Also this is much longer than I meant it to be...what can I say, I like yanderes!
(Includes: Lyney, Tighnari, Venti, Freminet, and Aether!)
♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡
𑁍༄Lyney:
Lyney had been told no many times in his life,in fact he couldn't even count how many people said he could never be a famous magician...and yet he'd proved every single one of them wrong. He simply couldn't stand not working towards something everyone else claimed was impossible, because in his eyes anything was possible, so when you confided in him about your feelings towards Neuvillette and stated that you found him more charming because of his height, even going so far as to mention you didn't really like short men as much...he just couldn't give up so easily.
He was madly in love with you, to the point it had become more than obsession, he'd seek you out anytime he'd left his home and any show he'd make sure to wink at you the moment his eyes met yours, he was so head over heels for you that he was physically unable to think about anyone or anything else. This also meant he wouldn't let anyone take you...especially just because they were taller...absolutely not.
So for his next show he planned something extra special, a magic trick truly wonderful in everyway...and as the crowd cheered, watching in awe when the box that had contained the chief of justice disappeared before their very eyes...none of them were aware he wouldn't show back up again...at least not for along while. Not until Lyney had found a way to make you love him, not until you...the most precious beautiful thing in all the world...was his.
𑁍༄Tighnari:
Tighnari stood next to you, his ears drooping with regret as he watched you flirt away with Alhaitham, his tall muscular figure drawing you to him like a moth to a flame...making you completely forget about the one who'd brought you together in the first place. It was like some cruel trick of fate...especially considering Tighnari had planned to confess his feelings for you that same day...and now it seemed like it would do no good..
He tapped your shoulder, not waiting for your response as he intertwined his hand with yours, pulling you away from Alhaitham as quickly as possible...and silently hoping you'd leave the whole situation at that. You on the other hand were not so happy with him, wanting desperately to continue your conversation with the handsome scribe..., "Tighnari what was that about? I was really getting along with-" He put a gloved finger to your lips, making you go quiet, his heart racing as he looked deep into your eyes.
"I love you...so much. I can't even really wrap my head around my feelings because they are so intense...it's like I need you just to keep going...like you're the thing I simply cannot live without. Even the air I breathe isn't as important as you are...." His confession was a bit much to say the least and adding to it was the kiss he placed on your forehead, causing you to jerk away from him.
"I'm sorry...but I don't feel that way for you..." Your words spilled out before you could stop them, your heart racing with fear at the change in his mannerisms...he didn't even respond...he just stood there...like he was plotting something and you...were about to find out just how crazy his love for you actually was.
𑁍༄Venti:
"I actually do have feelings for someone."
The second those words left your lips Ventis heart began to race, his mind clouded over with thoughts of you confessing to him and telling him you loved him...it was all he wanted. No, it was all he needed! He tried his best to calm himself down, taking a sip of wine before responding like someone who was completely clueless of the others feelings would, "Oh ho ho and who would that lucky person be hmm?"
A blush coated your cheeks followed by a sweet flustered smile that could make even Lord Barbatos swoon and boy was he...until you answered, "I like Mr. Zhongli~" You giggled nervously, not noticing how pale Venti went the second he heard the name...how the part of the wine bottle he'd been holding had shattered, much like his heart...you didn't even notice the hurt tone of his voice when he asked, "What does that old blockhead have that I don't?"
The question definitely took you by surprise, but you assumed he wasn't being serious and decided to answer truthfully, "Well he's a bit more refined...and I like his voice, but most of all he's so tall! I'm sorry Venti but I just can't imagine myself with someone...so tiny." The anemo archon was speechless...hatred seeping into his very being and jealousy getting the better of him. He stood up without another word and left, leaving you wondering what had happened...
𑁍༄Freminet:
Freminet was completely silent, his face bright red and burning with a rage he'd never felt before, his hands barely able to keep steady as jealousy ate away at his once calm heart heart. All he wanted was you...your love, that sweet smile that he craved to see everyday, but here you were, sitting Infront of him with this doe eyed look on your face as you fawned all over none other than the chief of justice. Mentioning more than once how tall and handsome he was, how incredible it would to have a man like him around.
"Enough."
You paused mid sentence, caught off guard by the amount of malice in his once kind sweet voice, watching as he stood up from his seat, your mouth slightly agape. You'd never seen him like this before...so angry and confident, it was scary...yet also a little exciting. After a moment of silence you'd worked up the courage to say something...but you didn't even manage to get a single word out as he grabbed the front of your shirt and pulled you harshly towards him, making you let out nothing more than a sharp gasp.
Your face went red, pure shock displaying itself on your features as he leaned in closer, his light purple eyes seemingly staring into your soul as his whispers grazed your ear, sending a shiver down your spine, "Hush now my love...you don't need him...I promise~"
𑁍༄Aether:
Aether was always there to help someone, so reliable in fact, that everyone called on him whenever there was a issue and including you, after all he'd saved you from many close calls...even saving your life a few times in the process and for that you were incredibly grateful, but alas you were still not in love with him. He on the other hand couldn't get enough of you, he just wanted to be near you all the time...be your hero and love you like nobody else ever could.
He...however wasn't the only person who could save someone and when the friendly neighborhood oni stepped in to save you, Aether was anything but pleased... especially when he saw the difference in how you acted. Yes your gratitude was the same...but you'd gotten all flustered at the onis impressive figure, touching the large man's chest while your face heated with such a strong blush and everyone around you cheered him on.
Aether was more than a little upset, suddenly understanding that he clearly wasn't your type and that he probably would never be, he just couldn't stand it! How could you, the person he'd do absolutely anything for...be so enraptured by someone else...just because they were bigger than him. No, he wouldn't let it stand, he'd fight for you, even if it meant doing things he could regret later on...it didn't matter, not anymore. You were all he cared about...all that mattered.
Just. You.
♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡
ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚Have a nice day*.✧
#genshin impact#genshin#genshin headcanons#genshin fanfic#genshin x reader#genshin yandere#lyney x reader#lyney x you#yandere lyney#lyney headcanons#lyney genshin#tighnari x reader#tighnari x you#yandere tighnari x reader#tighnari genshin#tighnari headcanons#venti genshin x reader#venti headcanons#venti x you#yandere venti#venti fanfic#freminet x reader#freminet x you#freminetheadcanons#yandere freminet#freminet genshin#aether x reader#aether x you#aether genshin impact#yandere aether
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Hi!! I really love your writting🥰 i would like to request for the self-aware au, Reader hiding behind them after being chased by some particularly pushy NPCs with Rook, Trey, and Jack please❤️
Self-aware au
I do not take any responsibility for you reading this no matter which age group you are from!
WARNINGS: Yandere themes, murder, description of violence, blood, obsession, stalking
Trey Clover/Jack Howl/Rook Hunt-Hiding behind them
Ah, what a nice day. In fact, it is perfect for trying out that recipe with that dough that needed to rest for a while
Or rather, that was his plan for the day until he suddenly heard two pairs of footsteps rushing into the dorm kitchen
And no, it was not the kind of footsteps that spoke of joy like the ones of his siblings did. from time to time, it sounded panicked
Just a second later you entered the kitchen with an octavinelle student, the latter one trying to catch up to you
Before the baker could figure out what was going on, you were suddenly behind him, using his body as a shield
Oh… oh!
Was this guy harassing you?
How dare he? How dare-
Deep breaths. Very deep breaths - would be something he would have said to himself if he wasn't this angry
By some miracle, he was able to hold himself together
He was this close to loose his reputation as "that nice hat wearing baker"
A strict look towards the student and you were finally alone with him
For you the whole thing was over but for that student?
Suddenly the poor lad fell ill, claiming that he had stomach problems
Heck, he couldn't even keep his food down
Such a shame... Trey surely hoped he would survive
Who else could he secretly gift those cakes? You? Oh no... It's just that he experiments with some new recipes...
Ignore that bottle in the cupboard
Jack is someone who keeps his friends very close and is not afraid to stand up for them
Only that he saw you as someone more precious than a friend
So when he saw you running away from a student and slipping behind him he saw the world just a tiny bit tinted red
The young wolf beastman isn't someone who uses violence just because he can do or feel like using it
(Honestly, at this point he is more like your little dog than some fearsome wolf)
Just because he didn't turn the student into very biological and mushy fertiliser for the flowers then and there doesn't mean he was calm though
Grabbing the not so nice company of yours, he told you to not worry and leave your little problem to him
Ah yes, Jack Howl, that kind acquaintance of yours
How nice of him
But you know, there are also tales about wolves acting as if they are kind just to devour you
Of course Jack didn't do that
Does not mean that things went as peaceful as you thought they did after you left
Jack usually keeps his instincts under control but on that evening he had to cut his nails very short and scrub his hands
Anyone would be horrified after the sensation of calcium breaking under their hand, splintering like old, dried out wood under a saw
He should feel guilty but... it was hard to do so
Which brings us back to a sink being used by a certain beastman
Geez, some things are so hard to get off of skin once it dries, wouldn't you agree?
First of all, it's a wonder the hunter wasn't watching you from a tree (or something like that... who knew bushes could walk in this world)
If he had he would have immediately revealed himself by slithering in between you and that oh so foolish first year
But alas, apparently a miracle happened and this time it was you seeking out him
When Rook heart the certain sound of your shoes hitting the ground he was swivelling around, a poem about his devotion towards you already on his tongue...
And them you hid behind his arm curtains (you know, their dorm uniforms sleves)
Did hiw beloved Overseer, perfection and liberatir in person finally choose him as their most favorite- no? Ok that's cool too
If this was any other situation he would have started a speech in his wannabe French, stating how short he was by your rejection
But right now he had to deal with your little stalker (don't try to act all innocent, Rook, you did the same many more times than they ever could without being noticed)
Trying to calm you down the hunter brought you to Pomfiore
And nothing weir happened
No I am not joking, Rook was his usual normal self (if we want to call at best flirtatious remarks and at worst frantic devoted ramblings normal)
From then on you were much closer to the hunter
Especially after a body was found
And oh, how grateful Rook was for not having the time to get rid of the body on that day
Of course, he had noticed how ce fou followed you two to the dorm
How trusting you were when he told you that he wanted to get you two something to drink...
And there the parasite still was, lingering around the entrance of his dorm
The only regret Rook had was finishing his job so quickly
It was always such a bore whenever his prey wouldn't squirm
Well, at least you were now close to him
Just be careful, the hunter was also back then the one bringing her highness a false heart. Who knows how much he would lie to get you all to himself?
Uh and… maybe don't open that box he has in his room in a cooler. He told you he keeps some sort of trophy in there and I think that is all we need to know
#yandere twisted wonderland#yandere twst#yandere twisted wonderland x reader#yandere twst x reader#self aware au#twst#twst x reader#twisted wonderland x reader#yandere trey x reader#yandere trey clover#trey clover x reader#yandere trey#twst trey#trey x reader#twst jack#yandere jack howl#yandere jack x reader#yandere jack#twst rook x reader#yandere rook x reader#rook hunt x reader#yandere rook hunt#yandere rook#twst rook#rook x reader#tw: yandere#tw: murder#tw: violence#tw: obsessive behavior#tw: blood
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Ficleting Together Start:
cw: internalized abelism as issues with therapy and mental help, injury
Jason had an imaginary friend. He hadn't always. He wasn't like most children who had one when they were just learning to understand the world around them. He hadn't even had one on the streets when he was so desperately lonely for anyone to offer him kindness. No, Jason hadn't had one until he had become Robin— until he had become magic.
He didn't actually think his friend was so imaginary.
Bruce and Dick did, though. It was actually the first conversation that they had that didn’t end in shouting in months. Jason had listened to the whole thing through a vent on the other side of Bruce’s study. There were concerns of him regressing. Apparently it was something that could happen to traumatized— and fuck he hated that word, traumatized— children when they finally got somewhere safe.
Dick thought Jason would benefit from therapy. Worse, Bruce agreed. It turned out that went Jason took part in the shouting match it could be so much worse.
“I’m not crazy! I don’t need to see a fucking therapist!” Jason screamed.
He wasn’t helping his case, he knew that. But he wasn’t crazy! They couldn’t lock him up. He wasn’t crazy. It already felt like he was locked up. The study felt suddenly small. The lights too bright. The furniture too big. Bruce and Dick were too big.
“Jay-lad, that’s not what we’re saying,” Bruce tried.
“I’m not talking any pills!”
“No one is talking pills, Jay,” Dick said. He stepped forward, reaching a hand out.
It would be comforting. Jason knew that. Dick’s touch was always comforting.
He gave great hugs.
He wasn’t like—
Jason ran.
Jason bolted out of the room and past Alfred and out the door and into the woods that surrounded Wayne Manor. He ran past trees and shrubs and rocks that all looked the same. He ran until his legs were burning and he couldn’t catch his breath and—
The dirt, damp from the fall rainstorms gave under Jason’s feet. For a moment he was standing on nothing. It felt just like when Bruce had said that he had arranged a therapist for Jason. It felt like his world had fallen out from under him. And then Jason was falling, tumbling down the rock face that up the small hillside that Jason had been running along.
He screamed as something in his leg snapped, the noise was cut short as his head bounced against the rock and snapped his jaw closed. Even when he stopped rolling, the world swam around him. Jason closed his eyes and tried to stop himself from hurling. It was close. Jason lost time counting his breaths through the pain.
And then they were there.
Jason knew it, he always knew it.
It’s why he didn’t think they were imaginary.
He couldn’t help the sob that ripped from his throat as he felt their presence settle against his side. “I’m not crazy. You’re real. I know you are.”
Jason didn’t hear their response. It wasn’t like they spoke. But Jason could feel their response: a rumble of reassurance, a bubble of wry humor that Jason didn’t understand, and an undercurrent of worry.
“I’ll be okay,” Jason said. It had started to get dark. When had it started to get dark? “I’ll be okay.”
A cold sensation pressed against his brow.
He could close his eyes for a little longer.
He’d be okay.
“Jason! Oh god, Jason. Bruce! It’s over here! Please be alive.”
Jason whined as hand touched his neck.
Murmured Romani filled Jason’s ears as his world went black.
---
The voted prompts were Danny/Jason, soulmates/bond, Eldritch. This isn't going where I thought it would, but that's the fun of it! I might just tack all the parts onto this thread an not do an update thread since this shouldn't be too long (famous last words) but we'll see. I have at least two scenes that I know I want to do.
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➶-͙˚ ༘✶ 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙁*𝘾𝙆 𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙏
✧.* CHAPTER 5 || The Date
[ { SYPNOSIS } ] ➤ A tale in which Gojo Satoru blackmails you into seducing a list of people to clear his debt. Sounds easy enough, right?
[ { CHAPTER CONTENT } ] ➤ language & heavy sexual tension. You might feel edged by the end of this chapter. !!Geto is a complete pervert btw!!
[ { WORD COUNT } ] ➤ 3.5k
[ { PAIRINGS } ] ➤ jjk men x f!reader. gojo x f!reader. geto x f!reader. toji x f!reader. choso x f!reader. sukuna x f!reader. nanami x f!reader.
[ [ chapters mlist } ]
——INSIDE THE LAVISH RESTAURANT that Geto Suguru assures you isn't as expensive as it seems, the two of you are escorted to an awfully private booth.
It's off in the corner, away from everyone else within the restaurant as specifically requested by your date. Your surroundings are dimly lit, with a romantic ambiance that sets the perfect mood for the evening.
Geto pulls your chair out for you and you sit, briefly thanking him for the small gesture as you do so. For a second, as he pushes your chair in and makes his way to the other side of the table, you wonder if you'll have to go on dates like this with the other men you meet. If Geto is considered medium difficulty according to Gojo, what'll happen when you reach someone who's at a higher difficulty level?
Will you have to win a fraction of their heart to sleep with them? Will you have to date them? Shit, you don't want to toy with anyone's emotions. You really hope you'll be able to pull this all off.
Lost in your thoughts, you don't notice Geto's eyes all over you. He's thinking too, wondering how he should go about messing with you. The man is just as amused as Gojo was with the little challenge you've been given.
Geto wonders if he should drag this out. Maybe a few days, y'know, force you to get to know him more and more. Problem is, even as he looks at you now, he knows damn well that's not going to happen. He wonders if you even realize the effect you have on others without doing anything.
When you first entered the restaurant, Geto noticed that the host had his eyes all over you. The man has been gawking at you as you and Geto were led off to your table but you didn't notice.
A little smirk plays on Geto's lips as he admires you. You're now pretending to look over the menu but he can tell you're still panicking from his earlier words. His eyes dip down to the exposed areas of your skin and he scoffs. If you were his girlfriend, the two of you wouldn't have even made it to the elevator.
Surly he would've turned you right back around and had his way with you without a care in the world for reservations. The male's focus goes to your lips, studying the slight pout you make while you think every now and then.
Like earlier, his mind drifts into places they shouldn't. Your lips look so soft, so delicate, so... kissable. He wonders how the inside of your mouth feels.
How good are you with your tongue? Fuck, the thought alone makes his hips lift as he shifts around in his seat. He needs to stop thinking about you like this. He needs a distraction so he tries to look down at the menu on the table in front of him.
That doesn't work either. Geto isn't craving anything on this damn menu. The very thing he wants to feast on is sitting across the table from him. His eyes flick up to you and instead of looking at your face, he looks at your cleavage-- mentally cursing at himself for his perverted thoughts and glances.
God, even looking at you is torture.
"Suguru," You suddenly call out.
The man flinches at the sound of his name and frantically redirects his gaze upward. "Hm?" He hums in response.
"Y'know I can feel you staring at me, right?" You say to him teasingly.
Truth be told, you've been calming yourself this whole time. Gojo told you Geto was of medium difficulty and if you're interpreting this correctly then, that means you've already got the man attracted to you, all that's left for you to do is to get him to warm up to you. You have to attempt to treat Geto like you know he's going to sleep with you because-- well, you do know.
With the way he was touching you, talking to you, and looking at you now, you could tell you had this in the bag. It just took a few minutes of you gathering yourself before you worked up the confidence to say something to him.
"So?" Geto asks, feeling tense to the way you've noticed his ogling.
You flip the menu up so that his view is obstructed, "So, it's rude to stare. Especially at my tits... pervert." You reply, though, you're words were harmless and he could tell you were teasing him.
Geto suddenly choked on air, "What'd you just call me?"
"A perv." You say cooly.
Due to the menu held up between the two of you, neither of you saw each other's expressions. You've got a cheeky grin on your face, thinking you've managed to fluster him while a slow smirk spreads across Geto's lips.
"A perv?" He repeats, followed by a cocky scoff. Geto's mouth moves on its own and he doesn't even know what came over him as he speaks.
"Darling, if I was a pervert I would've had you in this restaurant with no panties on while explaining the eight different positions I've fantasized fucking you in." He blurts out in a shockingly low tone before leaning over the table a little, "I'd have you on your knees begging for me to touch you right now."
Heat rushes to both your face and in between your legs, causing you to rub your thighs together slightly. Your grip on the menu slips a little but you try to keep your composure.
Dropping your voice to a whisper, you drop the item in your hand and meet the man's all-too-serious gaze. You mimic his motions and lean forward a bit too, "You do realize we're in public... right? Anyone could've heard you just now..."
Geto flashes you a sexy smile, "Keep teasin' me and everyone will hear you moaning my name in a second."
You scoff, waves of confidence shooting through you out of nowhere. "Yeah? What're you gonna do, fuck me over the table?" You whisper-shout to him.
"I might." He hums.
The look in your eyes is full of disbelief. "You wouldn't."
"I would, actually."
"Do it then." You utter challengingly, knowing damn well he doesn't have the balls to actually-
He chuckles deeply, leaning back in his chair and parting his thighs. You notice him shift in his seat, hips once again raising as he moves. "Come bend over in front of me and see what happens." Geto challenges back.
The sexual tension between you and him is at a ridiculous all-time high. You stare at him and he stares back at you.
After a few seconds, Geto clicks his tongue and tips his head to the side, "Well?"
You roll your eyes at him and sit back in your seat, "Never mind."
"That's what the hell I thought." He says confidently, "You'll never be able to win that kinda' contest against me, sweets. I'm a man of my word."
"Seeing as I'm not getting fucked over this table right now, I'm pretty sure that was all just a bluff." You reply. You're still not sure where all this confidence of yours is coming from but the man across the table from you is dangerously attracted to it so, you're trying to drag this out.
"I told you to bend over, you told me never mind." He shrugs.
"Maybe I wanted you to bend me over." You say with emphasis in your voice.
He stares blankly for a minute. Then he laughs, "You... You think I won't do it."
"No, I know you won't-"
Geto pushes his chair back and stands to his feet.
You're throat immediately runs dry. Is it too late to say that maybe you should've shut up a while ago...?
He walks around the table to you and suddenly pulls your chair out. "Y-You're not seriously gonna-"
"Stand up." Geto cuts off.
You peer up at the man, eyes full of worry. Slowly, you raise to your feet and your face comes close with his. Quickly glancing past him, you spot the waitress for your table helping a group of people not too far away. You're pretty sure she's gonna head this way once she's done so your mouth opens to back out of whatever Geto's about to do.
"Suguru, I-"
"Aht aht, none of that. You shouldn't have started this." He interrupts. Geto then moves a hand behind you and your heart sinks to your toes. Again, the table you're at is quite secluded so the only thing others would be able to see currently is Geto standing in front of you.
You flinch when he suddenly grabs a handful of your ass, your eyes frantically switching back and forth between him and the waitress who's set to approach the two of you any minute now. Geto pulls your body up against his and your hands rest on his chest due to the aggressive tug of your body.
You don't even know what to say at first as you feel the male hike up the back of your dress and slip your underwear down off you. "A-Are you fucking crazy?" You whisper shout to him with furrowed brows.
"You're about to find out." He hums simply.
Your undergarment now pools around your ankle and Geto is quick to drop down and work them completely off you. You shift around to pull your dress down, making sure you don't look crazy. The pounding of your heart was so loud that you could feel it in your ears and you're confused and thankful that no one has or can witness what just happened.
Looking up at you, Geto smiles as he wraps his fingers around the fabric in his hands. Then, he shoves the item into his pocket and stands back up. "You can sit now, I don't plan on giving everyone here a show just yet."
You grit your teeth. You're so embarrassed that you don't think you can move. Did you really just let him do that to you? Why? Because it was kinda thrilling and you wanted to see how far he'd really go? Maybe...
"Yet?" You repeat as you finally sit down, feeling exposed for a second before you cross your legs.
Geto casually walks back to his seat and sits as though nothing happened. "I meant what I said."
This time you don't argue with him-- you truly don't know what he'll do next.
. . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ . . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆
With perfect timing, the waitress approaches your table and takes your orders. You took a second to even remember what the hell you had your eyes on but you figured it out after relooking over the menu. Your heart is still throbbing against your chest and you still can believe no one saw anything that just happened.
You know the table is pretty secluded but you expected someone to see something. Geto knew what he was doing though. Hell, he's all innocent and smiling all lovey-dovey-like at you as the two of you place your orders.
The second the woman had gone off to get your food, you and Geto met eyes.
"So, tell me something... If not for this date, what was your plan for me?" The man asks, breaking the silence.
You glance off to the side. "I didn't have one. I was just gonna meet you and figure things out as I go."
He chuckles, "And how'd that end up working out for ya'?"
"Well, given the fact that I'm sitting in a restaurant with no underwear on," You send him a glare with a fake smile, "Wonderful." You say with sarcasm.
He moves to reach for the item in question, soon pulling it out of his pocket and holding it up so that only you can see it. "Want em' back?" Geto asks tauntingly.
You send him a scowl, one he finds ridiculously sexy. Pissing you off is kinda fun. The fabric in his hand is shifted around a bit and he begins to inspect the item, the sight bringing a deep blush to your face and a rush of embarrassment over you.
"Fucking pervert." You curse, this time genuinely bothered.
A lazy smile spread across Geto's overly attractive face, "I can show you something perverted..."
You're glare at him continues. "Is this how you planned on spending the entire night? By taunting and teasing me?" You ask genuinely.
Geto scoffs at your words, "I'm pretty sure you started this, baby."
"I..." Damn, he's got you there. You did start this sexual flirting vibe with him.
But what else were you supposed to do? Your goal is to fuck him.
"Don't be mad that you can't handle my actions or the words that come out of my mouth." He continues while mocking you with a chuckle. He just finds you oh so amusing.
"Well, I wasn't expecting you to be such a perv..." You murmur.
"Satoru didn't tell you that part, huh?"
"No. No he did not." You say, annoyed with the man who really is to blame for all this.
Geto leans forward and rests his elbows on the table, moving to hold your undergarment with one finger and dangling it in front of his face. "I can only imagine how embarrassed you must feel right now." Actually, he could see it.
He's watching the way your eyes widen at him displaying your underwear so openly, the way you look around the area to see if anyone knows what he's doing, and the way you're clearly panicking.
"Can you just put them away already... Taunting me with that is just... weird." You tell the man.
"Yeah? What if I told you what I wanted to do with them?" He asks in return.
Your curiosity piqued and you raised a brow. "What you want to do with them...?" You repeat as you grow confused.
"I wanna wrap em' around my cock. Y'know use it to jerk off." Geto says so casually that you grow awfully concerned if he has any sense of care for being in public.
"You... can get off on that kinda thing?" You question blindly.
He shuts his eyes and inhales a deep breath, "Fuck yes."
"...I'm not one to kink shame but... why is that pleasurable? It's just my underwear...."
He laughs at your cluelessness before finally putting the item away. "The fact that it was pressed against that wet cunt of yours for hours makes my dick throb," Geto utters both filthyly and shamelessly.
Your thighs rub together a bit and a strange wave of arousal thrums through you. "O-Oh..." You chirp.
"I told you, don't be mad that you can't handle what comes out my mouth." He sighs.
You put your hands over your face and sigh, "You're worse than Satoru," You whisper to yourself.
That makes Geto laugh again, "Am I?"
"Yes." You sigh dramatically.
Though, you're not sure if that's true. After all, Gojo did jerk off right in front of you with no shame whatsoever...
"Would you believe me if I said that everything I've said so far is only to tease you?" Geto questions.
You blink. "Meaning...?"
"The real thing will be much worse."
You feel intrigued so you lean in, "How so?"
He smirks, he's got you exactly where he wants you. "I could make you cum without even laying a finger on you," Geto informs you, cockiness embedded into his tone.
You scoff and fold your arms at him, "Why don't you put your money where your mouth is and prove it?"
"Right now?" He hums with a tilt of his head.
A gulp is heard from you. "N-Not now, idiot. We're still in public."
"I feel like by now you should know, I don't care if we're in public. That won't stop me from doing or saying anything." Geto says.
"So you're into voyeurism?" You ask in a monotone.
He scoffs, "Exhibitionism is the word you're looking for but yes, that too. Isn't it obvious?"
"Slut."
Geto snickers, "I'm into that too, gorgeous."
"You like being degraded?"
"I don't mind it." He admits with a shrug. "I have a long list of kinks that I'm not sure you want to get into right now."
"Maybe I do." You hum.
Why are you still testing this man? You don't know. Maybe you like his reactions. Maybe something about his responses gives you this churn in your stomach. Maybe you want to keep pushing his buttons until you can't anymore...
Geto leans back and looks up at the ceiling, "Why does this woman continue to tempt me?" He asks as if he's speaking to some higher power. Looking back down to you, "I'd rather show you my kinks. Explaining is boring." He says.
You respond with a nod and after what feels like an eternity, the waitress is spotted approaching your table with your orders in hand.
. . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ . . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆
After the food, things got worse.
Like, much worse than you could've imagined.
You know Geto said he was a man of his word but fuck is he insane. He was not, in fact, lying when he said he could make you cum without touching you.
He proves that later on in the night, long after the date is over and you've made it back to his apartment.
Geto Suguru has a filthy mouth. He'd break down in innate detail on how exactly he plans on fucking you before actually doing it, leaving your brain all mushy at the imagination alone.
But of course, this was only possible because of the things that led up to it.
After the two of you ate, getting from the dinner table and to an Uber was no easy feat. Especially not with Geto in your ear explaining his fantasies to you.
He told you how he thought about renting out the restaurant for the night just to lay you out on the table and dive nose-deep into your pussy-- not a single word filtered. Geto said into your ear that part of him wanted you bouncing on his cock right there at the table. He wanted people to hear and see the mess he'd make of you.
"God the things I wanna do to you," He uttered desperately into your ear.
By now, you were both back in a vehicle, this time on your way home with him.
Geto smiles against the crown of your ear, "Even right now, if not for the diver, you'd be on my cock right now."
His voice is so low, so seductive, ensuring that only you hear him. You're constantly rubbing your thighs together, still lacking underwear to catch the liquids of arousal seeping from your cunt.
Geto suddenly places a hand high up on your thigh, "Spread your legs f'me, really quickly."
You let out a breath of air you weren't aware you'd been holding. "W-Why...?"
"Wanna' check something." He murmurs. You slowly part your thighs and Geto moves to swat two of his thick fingers against your sex. "Mmmh... you're wet..." He whispers as if he isn't aware of the effect his words have on you.
Your legs shut around his hand and Geto drops his head to your shoulder with a chuckle. "What happened to all those little comebacks of yours?" He questions.
"I ran out," You say snarkily.
"Good." Geto hums, raising his hand from in between your legs.
He then grabs a light hold of your face and forces you to look at him. "Cause' if you didn't," The man moves two fingers to your lips and slips them into your mouth. "I'd have to shut you up eventually." He whispers softly.
Your brows furrow at the feeling of his fingers pushing into your mouth but almost reflexively, you suck on his digits gently. The bulge that's been straining against the fabric of Geto's pants for a while now, throbs at the sight and feeling of you.
His cock is just leaking with precum right now, leaving an embarrassing wet spot on his boxers. So badly does he want to get home as quickly as possible and fuck the hell out of you. Your constant words and challenges have had the man erect for a while now.
Hell, maybe he was turned on from the second he laid eyes on you.
He presses down on the back of your tongue and you choke a little-- not that you try to stop his actions at all, leading to him biting his lip. "Satoru told me about you but damn, you really are a slut." Geto purrs.
You hum around his skin but don't stop your sucking motions, leading the man to let a groan leave his lips before finally pulling his hand from you. He couldn't take it anymore. Geto was seconds, literal seconds away from flipping you over and having his way with you.
Luckily for both of you, the driver finally arrived at the apartment and neither of you would have to wait much longer.
GOJO SATORU ✔︎
GETO SUGURU ☐
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#the f*ck list#the fuck list#jjk#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jjk x y/n#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#gojo x reader#choso x reader#toji x reader#nanami x reader#sukuna x reader#naoya x reader#geto x reader#gojo satoru x reader#geto suguru x reader#toji fushiguro x reader#sukuna ryomen x reader#nanami kento x reader#choso kamo x reader#smut fic#jjk smut#gojo smut#geto smut#choso smut#toji smut
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[7.6k] jack totally wasn't in love with his frat's president. and he totally wasn't in love with his president's girlfriend. and this totally isn't the story of how the three of them realised they fell in love with each other. (smut)
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“Really?”
You bit back the grin threatening to take over your face, attempting to school your features to a neutral expression as you glanced down at the textbook opened up in front of you. You let out a hum in response, but didn’t glance over at your boyfriend who was sprawled on his bed a few feet away from you.
“You are a menace.”
You glanced over your shoulder, finding Nico already staring back at you with an amused expression on his face—despite what his downturned frowning lips said. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you answered eventually with an innocent look.
Nico shot you a look. “Baby.”
“Nico,” you retorted in the same serious tone.
A few moments passed before he looked away, rolling his eyes and shaking his head as he glanced down at his phone. “He’s going to get such a big head if he sees this,” he murmured, though there was something fond in his voice. “God knows Jack doesn’t need a bigger head.”
You raised your brows. “Does that mean you’re gonna keep it?”
“You’ll just change it back anyways,” Nico retorted, and you didn’t disagree with him.
Instead, you stood up from the seat by his desk where you had been studying before he came in from class around thirty minutes ago. You made your way towards the bed, not even fighting your boyfriend as he reached for you and tugged you to lay on top of him. You propped your head on his chest, grinning at him.
“The contact name fits him and you know it does,” you said in a knowing voice.
“Favourite Pledge is hardly a creative name anyways,” Nico deflected, but you saw right through him.
One of the things you loved about Nico Hischier was his loyalty. It was one of those defining traits that made you fall more in love with him than you ever deemed humanly possible. He was loyal to his family, to his friends, to anyone that meant the world to him. His heart was split, little pieces given to those he trusted with it and the whole frat inevitability was a part of that.
He loved his frat brothers. He loved them when he first joined. He loved them as more of them entered and pledged. He loved them when they appointed him president, even when he was just a sophomore. The frat loved him as much as he loved them.
But it was an undeniable fact to anyone with working eyes that he had a soft spot for the new pledge, Jack Hughes.
He didn’t admit it out loud. He always claimed to love his brothers equally, that it was impossible to have favourites. Though, you knew he just felt a little bad about it. He felt guilty that the younger boy had claimed a little bit more of his heart than the other frat brothers had.
Yet, no matter how hard he tried to deny it, Jack Hughes had wiggled his way into his heart.
You knew it stemmed from the fact the Swiss saw a bit of himself in the boy. Though Nico adored the frat and the community it gave him, he wasn’t shy of the fact he only joined to follow his older brother’s footsteps—something Jack himself had also done.
The fact Jack had also tried out for the university’s hockey team—and was incredibly talented on the ice—was the final nail in the coffin for Nico (even if he still tried to deny the coffin existed).
“But it’s true,” you sang with a smug look on your face.
Nico rolled his eyes but the action was fond. “He was gonna grab some coffee on his way back from class, do you want anything?”
“The usual,” you answered, leaning down to peck his lips before you moved to sit back at his desk. “Oh, ask him if he can get one of those muffins too. The lemon one.”
There was a pause as Nico typed out his reply before he snorted. “He said he already picked one up for you.”
Your expression brightened. “Well, if he isn’t your favourite pledge, then he definitely is mine.”
Nico shook his head. “So now you’re stealing him from me?’
“Is this you admitting he’s your favourite pledge?” You retorted.
A few moments of silence passed, neither one of you saying anything nor looking away. Seconds ticked by, Nico’s phone continued to buzz on the bed and a ping sounded from your laptop when an email came through. But still, neither one of you looked away.
Until the buzzing became more insistent and Nico’s eyes snapped down to look at his screen, something fond in his gaze as messages about Jack complaining on how long the coffee was taking came through.
“Ha! I was right!” You grinned, clapping your hands together but Nico didn’t have it in him to argue this time.
He had shifted to sit with his back against the headboard and his laptop lying across his thighs when Jack finally burst through the bedroom door fifteen minutes later, holding a carrier of coffees and a bag of sweet treats.
“Miss me?”
You turned to see Jack already beginning to make himself comfortable as he dumped his backpack by the door and toed off his shoes. He handed you your coffee first with the lemon muffin in his other hand. “Mrs President.”
You snorted. “Thank you, Jack.”
He beamed before he grabbed Nico’s coffee and the cookie Nico pretended not to like (even though he really, really did). “Mr President.”
“You’re in a chipper mood today,” Nico noted as he thanked the younger boy, taking the coffee and cookie to place on the bedside table beside him. He then turned towards Jack again, mouth open like he was about to say something—only for Jack to faceplant down on the bed the second the coffee was out of his hands. “You good?”
“Tired,” he grumbled, his words muffled with his face buried into the duvet. “Plus, algebra sucks.”
Nico’s face softened a little. “You should take a nap, we have a big game later.”
“M’fine,” he murmured in response, but it convinced no one.
“Sleep, Jack,” you said as you glanced at the boy, his eyes already shut but his shoulders tense like he was preparing himself to sit up again. “You can nap here.”
Jack froze before lifting his head, blinking slowly as he stared between you and Nico. “Really?”
“Sleep here,” Nico confirmed with a nod, reaching over to playfully ruffle his hair. However, the act just made Jack slump back down onto the bed, his face buried in the duvet once again. “I’ll wake you up so we can eat before the game.”
“M’kay,” he managed to mutter out, seconds away from falling asleep.
Nico watched with a small smile before he grabbed a blanket, placing it over Jack and making sure he was settled before he grabbed his laptop to work again. He cleared his throat a little, though the smile never left his face as he began to type away.
“Oh, you’re so obvious,” you murmured with a snort.
Nico glanced up at you. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Hm, I’m sure,” you mused as you settled back in your chair. “So, you’d just let anyone nap on your bed? With your favourite blanket?”
He shot you a look. “I let you do it all the time.”
Your grin widened. “Exactly.”
Nico rolled his eyes, refusing to continue the conversation any further. And because you were a nice girlfriend, you chose not to mention the light pink tint to his cheeks. Or the fond smiles Nico would give Jack whenever he glanced over.
Or the photo you snuck of the two of them, curled up and looking so comfy in bed together.
…
To absolutely nobody’s surprise, the boys smashed the game with a 7-1 win to continue their nine game win streak.
And to celebrate their win, the frat decided to hold a massive—and last minute—rager in honour of Nico, Jack and the rest of the hockey team. Though, you weren’t convinced it was as last minute as Trevor made it out to be considering the kegs were definitely being delivered to the house before you left to go watch the game.
The house was packed with frat brothers, hockey teammates and strangers alike, with no real invitation but with an overwhelming need to celebrate by getting shit-faced drunk nonetheless. Music was blasting from the countless speakers set around the house, every open surface looked like an Ibiza bar with bottles sprawled across it and the hockey boys were getting their chance to really celebrate with no practice or game until next week holding them back.
“Drink up, Mrs P!”
You bit back your laugh as you inspected the cup Trevor was handing you. His cheeks were flushed, his grin was huge and you had no doubt that whatever was in the cup was the result of him and Cole concocting their own makeshift cocktails to get people as drunk as they were.
“Do I even want to know what’s in this?” You questioned, a teasing glint in your voice as you sniffed the cup.
Trevor didn’t even look bashful. “Don’t worry, we made sure to add more of Nico’s fancy Swiss lager in yours. He can’t get mad at us then.”
You actually did laugh this time. “You boys need to stop putting me in the crossfire. He’s your president.”
“And you’re our Mrs President,” Trevor retorted. “It’s literally your job to stop him from killing us.”
“I don’t remember signing up for this.”
“You do it because you love us?” Trevor replied, a boyish grin on his face that made your heart warm in your chest.
“Yeah, I do love you idiots,” you grumbled, though there was a smile on your face as you patted his cheek, amused at the way his grin widened at the action.
“Maybe some of us more than others,” he supplied, something mischievous glinting in his eyes.
You sighed. “Trevor, if this is about me giving Cole the last slice of apple pie—”
“I’m talking about Jack and we both know it.” he sang, delighted in the way you quickly stopped talking. “I see the way you and Nico look at him.”
You frowned a little. “We don’t love him more than we love the rest of you—”
“You love the rest of us like we are your kids,” Trevor corrected, still thoroughly amused by the conversation. “You and Nico look at Jack like you want to sleep with him.”
You let out a startled laugh. “Trev—”
“And he looks like he would take anything you give him,” the boy continued, looking far too smug at the way you trapped your bottom lip between your teeth. “Don’t worry, Mrs P, I’ll keep your secret.”
You didn’t get a chance to respond before the boy had wandered off, disappearing into the throng of partygoers. Though, if you were being completely honest with yourself, you weren’t even sure what you would have replied with. Maybe it was a blessing he walked away first.
“You good?”
You blinked before turning your head, finding Nico standing there with his brows furrowed in concern. You could feel his hand on your lower back, a soft and comforting touch that you leaned into.
“Yeah,” you said and flashed him a smile. “Just contemplating if I want to risk drinking whatever Trevor and Cole made me.”
Nico snorted but it was fond. “I’ll hold your hair back later if you risk it.”
You grinned. “My hero.”
“Always,” Nico grinned back, leaning down to peck your lips before he dragged you back to the party in the direction of the back garden where the hockey team seemed to have accumulated.
Yet, no matter how hard you tried, Trevor’s words lingered with you for the rest of the party, playing on a loop you couldn’t stop.
…
The irony of it all was that you knew, deep down, Trevor was right.
It shouldn’t have been a shock when it was something you had been aware of for a while, even subconsciously. As much as you teased and taunted Nico, there was something different about Jack in comparison to the other pledges and frat brothers. It wasn’t a favouritism, it went beyond that. There was something more with Jack, something deeper.
And you always knew it.
It just took the realisation that other people—that Trevor—had noticed it too. It wasn’t this secret hidden in your heart or an inside joke between you and Nico, it was beyond that. Your feelings weren’t as subtle as you thought. And neither were Nico’s. And apparently neither were Jacks’.
Everyone saw it but you three, and now you were painfully aware and pining.
Because that was the only way you could describe how you had felt since the party. You had been pining after Jack. It was like the conversation with Trevor opened the box you had desperately been locking shut, and now you were overwhelmed with your feelings for the younger boy.
And Nico noticed too.
He hadn’t mentioned it, not directly. But he noticed a shift in you since the party. He noticed the way your eyes lingered on Jack a little longer than usual when he walked in a room. He noticed the way you seemed to drag Jack to sit with the two of you whenever you got the chance. He noticed the way your touch would linger on Jack, the way you did with him.
It made his stomach twist with a desire he didn’t know was possible, he didn’t know he wanted.
It was enthralling to watch you watch Jack, to watch you look at Jack the same way you look at him. Maybe because he knew he was no different. He knew it was all leading to something, you did too.
Neither of you expected it to happen just two weeks after the party when the frat found themselves at the campus bar on a random Thursday.
It was somewhere between your second and third drink. The frat were spread across the establishment: some were by the bar chatting with some strangers, others were playing pool on the tables at the back, the rest were sprawled over the booths and seats around the room.
You had settled on a small couch, a vodka rum in hand as you watched Trevor and Cole attempt to talk up some girls from one of their shared classes a few feet away. Trevor had been insistent he could get their numbers, and Cole had just wanted to be close enough to see the trainwreck. And you had thoroughly enjoyed watching them both.
“Budge up!”
You let out a small huff when Jack unexpectedly collapsed onto the couch beside you, but you didn’t argue as you shifted until you were both squished together. Your thigh was pressed against his, your shoulders shoved together, but neither of you moved away even if there was enough space on the couch to put a few inches between you.
“You seem chipper,” you commented, eyeing the flush to his cheeks and the grin on his face. You wonder how many beers one of the older brothers had slipped him through the night.
“Just handed Turc’s ass in pool,” Jack told you, puffing his chest proudly.
“That’s shocking considering you’re shit,” you teased, nudging into his side a little.
“Hey, that was an unfair advantage one time!” Jack huffed, but he was still smiling. “Nico was cheating.”
You snorted. “How?”
“I don’t know but nobody is naturally that good at pool,” he grumbled as he shifted back into the couch, his body sagging like the night was starting to catch up on him. “I think we should team up.”
You raised your brows. “To what? Beat him at pool?”
“Mhm,” Jack nodded in confirmation. “We could distract him.”
“And how do you propose we do that?” You questioned, thoroughly amused.
“I think our pretty faces are enough,” he answered confidently. “Bat a couple eyelashes, maybe throw a few flirty comments in there and he’ll be useless.”
This time you actually laughed and Jack’s smile widened at the sound.
“What? You don’t think I could do it?”
“Oh no, I think you could and you’d be dangerous,” you assured him, shifting in your seat until your body was facing him. “I think my flirting would be lacklustre in comparison to yours.”
He gave you a small shove. “Nah, you have him wrapped around your finger. He would fold at whatever you said.”
Almost instinctively, your eyes began searching the bar for your boyfriend before you found him on the other side of the room. He was standing by one of the pool tables, leaning against the cue as he watched Jesper take a shot with a fond smile on his face. He looked laid back, his flannel abandoned somewhere to leave him in the tight-fitting t-shirt, his cap placed backwards on his head to keep his hair out of his face. He looked relaxed, young even. Like he didn’t have the responsibility of a frat, hockey and college on his mind.
And like he could sense you, his eyes turned to look at you and his smile widened. He glanced at you, and then the boy beside you, before his gaze returned to you.
And then, the little fucker winked.
“See,” Jack said, laughing a little but it sounded off.
You turned back to look at Jack, finding his eyes still locked on Nico. You noticed the slight flush to his cheeks, and a part of you wondered if he was just as affected by your boyfriend as you were. You wondered how long you had been oblivious to it if this was how he was staring at Nico. You wondered if he looked at you the same way.
“He’s no better with you,” you eventually spoke, watching as his eyes quickly snapped back to you. His cheeks went redder. “Don’t underestimate that pretty face of yours.”
And you could see the cogs turning in his head. You could see him picking apart your words, can see the way he shifts in his spot. And you can see the way he tries to act like it doesn’t affect him when it does.
“You think I’m pretty?”
Because he’s Jack and when things get overwhelming, he resorts to some weird mix of joking and flirting because it feels safer than whatever the truth is. Because you knew as much as he wanted to believe you, he couldn’t quite admit it out loud yet, admit it to himself.
And you also knew he sometimes just needed a push in the right direction.
“I think,” you started as you lifted your hand, hesitating for a small moment before you pushed your fingers through his hair. You watched his eyes flutter shut, his body leaning further into your touch. “You’re one of the prettiest people I know.”
He gulped a little, blinking his eyes open. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” you confirmed with a nod.
And maybe it was the newfound realisation of your feelings. Or maybe it was the confidence you felt in the way he stared at you, like you hung the fucking moon. Or maybe it was a cumulation of the alcohol you had drunk since you arrived that fuelled it all.
You weren’t sure what it was.
But his eyes dropped to your lips for a few seconds too long and the next thing you knew, you were leaning in and pressing your lips against his.
Your hand dropped to cup his cheek, the growing stubble brushed against your palm as you deepened the kiss. He let out a noise, something sweet and whiny and you wanted to bottle it up to listen to it forever. He let you guide the kiss, let you take control as your tongue swiped along his bottom lip.
His eyes were still shut when you parted for a few seconds. But yours were open and staring just past his head, where Nico was standing.
He was already staring at you, both of you. And you knew he wouldn’t be mad, but there was still something about the pure lust and want in his gaze that made your stomach dip. The way his lips twitched upwards when he saw you staring back, the way he nodded his head a little like it was a challenge.
He was halfway across the room and, yet, still seemed to be enjoying this as much as the two of you.
But before you could even bring yourself to take him up on his challenge, before you could close the distance between you and Jack and kiss him again, he was pulling away completely.
“Shit,” he breathed out, his wide eyes staring at you with an expression full of surprise and shock.
Your brows furrowed. “Jack?”
“Shit,” he repeated, and you barely had a chance to wrap your head around any of it before he was quickly standing up. He stared at you, his face scrunched up and his lips parted like he wanted to say something but couldn’t seem to find the words.
“Jack,” you called out, your voice soft and concerned as you reached out for him but he jerked away from the touch.
“I am so sorry,” was all he managed to get out before he made a beeline towards the door.
You watched him rush out like he was being chased before your head turned, finding Nico watching the exit with a mixed expression of hurt and concern.
And as you stood there, in the middle of the bar, feeling oddly cold and confused about the last thirty seconds, you couldn’t help but feel like you fucked something up without realising it.
…
Jack was avoiding you.
He thought he was being subtle with it, but it was clear to everyone what was happening. He was hardly in the house anymore unless it was to sleep. And even then, he was still going out of his way to leave insanely early and come back very late. You hardly even saw him on campus.
You hardly saw him at all.
And it was one thing if he was avoiding you, but he was avoiding Nico too and you could tell it was hurting him. You could tell it bothered him that Jack was hardly around the house, that he was having to get updates from Trevor or the other boys, that he went out of his way to avoid Nico at hockey practice too.
It hurt and everyone could see the three of you suffering, but Trevor the worst.
“He thinks you hate him,” the boy said one day when you were in the kitchen, pushing your pasta around your plate with no real appetite to eat.
You frowned. “What?”
“Jack thinks you and Nico hate him because of what happened at the bar,” Trevor continued, shrugging his shoulders. “Something about making you kiss him and getting between your relationship.”
Your frown deepened. “But I kissed him. Not the other way around.”
“Yeah, well, that’s not how he sees it,” Trevor muttered, the usual smile on his face replaced with a concerned frown. “He thinks Nico is going to kick him out the frat.”
You dropped your fork. “What? That’s insane! Nico would never do that.”
“That’s what he believes though and the guy can be fucking stubborn,” Trevor huffed out. “I have tried telling him he is overthinking it but he just gets upset about it. He thinks he is delaying the inevitable.”
You let out a sigh.
Trevor continued. “He just needs to realise that he didn’t ruin his president’s relationship and that you both actually want to fuck him—”
“Trevor.”
“—and then everything will be fine,” he concluded like it was easy. Like you could just walk up to Jack and tell him as much. As if he hadn’t been actively avoiding you for the last week.
“Yeah, that’s all,” you murmured, your mind wandering as the boy continued to ramble on about some business analytics class he was taking.
…
In classic president fashion, Nico was the one who had enough of the weird game the three of you had been playing for the last few weeks. He couldn’t take it anymore, so he was going to do what he did best, and he was going to fix the mess.
He couldn’t handle seeing you heartbroken over it any longer.
He couldn’t handle Jack hiding away from him like he was a stranger.
He couldn’t handle the overwhelming emptiness in his chest that had been haunting him since Jack ran out of the bar.
He couldn’t fucking handle any of it anymore.
All in all, it was embarrassingly easy to manipulate and puppeteer the whole thing. It was a bit of a slap in the face, to realise that something could have been done weeks ago. But Nico tried not to linger on the thought for too long.
Plus, getting Jack in the same room as the two of you was the easy part.
Convincing him the two of you were just as gone for him as he was for you was going to be the hard part. Especially considering the fact Jack was one of the most stubborn and iron-willed people he had ever met in his life.
But he would be damned if another day went by where Jack Hughes didn’t know how the two of you felt for him.
“Trev, how many books do you have that you need my help with?”
“I borrowed a lot! The librarian likes me.”
“And why have you not returned then?”
“...I forgot.”
Nico could feel you tense beside him as the voices on the other side of the door got closer. He reached over, placing a warm and comforting hand on the small of your back as you sagged back against him. The footsteps got closer and closer until there was a pause.
“Isn’t this Nico’s room?”
“Uh, no!”
“Trev—”
The next thirty seconds passed in a blink of the eye. The door swung open and you could pinpoint the exact moment Jack saw the two of you. His eyes widened, his face fell and he was frozen in his spot. It gave Trevor more than enough time to shove him deeper into the room, call out a ‘you’re welcome!’ before he slammed the door shut behind him.
Jack cleared his throat. “Sorry, I’m just gonna—”
“No,” Nico stepped forward, trying to hide the desperate tint to his words. “No, stay. Please.”
Jack shifted in his spot. “I have some homework to—”
“Jack,” Nico interrupted, a deep sigh following as he shot the younger boy a look. “We know you’re ignoring us.”
Jack froze before he let out a strained laugh. “What? No! I’ve just been busy—”
“Jack.” This time you stepped forward, a frown painted on your lips. “Please, we know. We aren’t stupid.”
“Talk to us,” Nico said as he continued to walk forward until he was only a few steps from the boy. “Talk to me.”
Jack glanced between the two of you, a conflict clearly playing out in his head before he eventually blurted out, “I didn’t mean to be a homewrecker!”
Nico blinked, his brows furrowed together. “A what?”
You shook your head. “Jack—”
“I-I just…listen, you don’t have to say it. I get it. I know.” Jack swallowed, shifting in his spot once again. “I didn’t mean to…I…” There was a pause before he let out a breath. “You don’t have to worry about me…doing anything again. I won’t. I promise. And…and if you want me to leave the frat, I get it.”
His eyes were focused on the ground, staring at some random spot between his feet as he finally got out the words that had been weighing heavily on his chest for the last few weeks. But with his gaze downward, he missed the way Nico’s face softened completely at his admission.
“And if we want you to do it again?”
Jack blinked before he lifted his head. “What?”
Nico swallowed before he closed the small distance between them, keeping his eyes on the boy. “And what if we want you to do it again? What if we don’t want you to stop?”
He blinked with a look of pure discombobulation on his face. “Huh? But I…I kissed your girlfriend.”
“Jack.” Nico sighed, and it sounded so fond as he lifted his hands to hold the younger boy’s face. “You kissed my girlfriend.”
“Uh, yeah, I just said that,” Jack murmured, his cheeks burning.
“I am not mad, I like kissing my girlfriend too,” Nico told him.
Jack frowned a little. “Well, yeah, she’s your girlfriend—”
“And,” Nico interrupted, taking a deep breath before he continued. “She liked kissing you too.”
Jack blinked.
“If anything, I was jealous she kissed you first,” he continued, his thumbs lightly swiping over the apples of his cheek.
“Oh,” was the only response Jack managed.
You made your way over, leaning against your boyfriend’s arms as you stared at Jack with a soft smile on your lips. “He’s wanted to kiss you for a while. You are his favourite.”
Nico’s lips twitched upwards but, for the first time, he didn’t deny it. “Yeah. Yeah, you are.”
Jack looked between the two of you as he tried to process the last thirty seconds in his head. And then he let out a laugh, a little nervous and hesitant. “You…you want to kiss me too?”
Nico nodded.
“Is this, like, some weird couples kink?” Jack blurted out, blood roaring in his ears and he was half-tempted to pull away if he knew he wouldn’t miss Nico’s touch on him. “Or has Trevor set you up to this? Because that is not cool—”
And then, Nico was kissing him.
Albeit, it was short and nowhere near as passionate as the one you and Jack shared at the bar, but it got the job done. It shut the boy up. It showed him this was far from a joke.
“For fuck’s sake, Jack,” Nico groaned as he pulled away, resting their foreheads together like he tended to do after goal celebrations on the ice. “We are in love with you, you idiot. You wrecked nothing.”
Jack let out a shaky breath as he pulled back a little. “You’re what?”
You stepped forward, catching his hand in yours before he stepped away completely. “This isn’t a joke. This isn’t some weird kink. This is just us telling you that we like you. Love you, even. This is us asking you to fix whatever mess we accidentally created because, Jack, I can’t handle you ignoring us again. We can’t handle that.”
His face softened. “You mean it?”
“Every word,” you confirmed with a nod.
“You want me?” He asked, and it broke your heart a little. You don’t think you had ever heard Jack Hughes sound so doubtful, so unsure of himself.
“We want you, baby,” Nico murmured, his hand dropping to cup the back of Jack’s neck as he smiled at the boy.
“I—” Jack’s shoulders sagged a little, like he could finally breathe for the first time in weeks. Like the weight and lingering guilt had been removed from his shoulders. “Shit, I really dragged this out, huh?”
You laughed, shaking your head. “We got there eventually.”
“Even after I ran out on you?” Jack questioned.
“You can make it up to me,” you retorted, something mischievous shining in your eyes.
Almost instinctively, Jack’s eyes snapped over to Nico like he was seeking permission.
Nico smiled a little, squeezing his neck once again in reassurance. “You don’t have to ask. You can just kiss her, baby.”
“I know, I just…” He trailed off, his cheeks pretty and rosy and it made something twist deep in Nico’s gut.
“You want me to tell you what to do?” Nico asked, his voice a little lower. A little gruff. “Need a little guidance, hm?”
Jack swallowed but nodded, a little shy.
“Hm, gonna listen?” He continued to taunt the boy, feeling Jack’s pulse thump beneath his palm. “Not gonna be a brat?”
“Promise,” Jack nodded.
Nico smiled and it made his heart lurch with desire. “Kiss her, baby. Make it up to her.”
Jack’s eyes shifted over to you.
You were watching him with a fond smile, head tilted in curiosity as you watched the interaction play out between the two of him. The second his attention was on you, you raised your brows in challenge, waiting to see if he really would listen to Nico’s instructions.
There were only a few beats of hesitation before Jack leaned forward, one hand on your face and the other on your waist as he pulled you towards him. The kiss was nothing like the one from the bar, it was far better. It almost felt like he had been holding back on you before.
A soft moan escaped your lips as you sunk into the kiss, as you let Jack take control this time, as you let him express the months of wanting and pining he had been holding onto him. You could feel his arm around your waist tightening, could feel his body pressed against yours as he held you close.
Nico settled behind Jack, his hands on the younger boy’s waist as he watched with pure desire and intent in his gaze.
You let out a small gasp when he nipped your bottom lip before pulling away, both of you panting and desperately breathing in the air your lungs were crying out for.
“Hm,” Nico hummed, his chin hooked on Jack’s shoulder as he looked at you. “What do you say, baby? Think he made up for the last few weeks?”
You almost felt like you were in a daze as you shook your head. “More.”
“More?” Nico grinned, squeezing Jack’s waist. “What do you say, Jack? Wanna give our girl more?”
He gulped a little at the use of ‘our girl’.
“You want to make her feel good? Beg for her forgiveness?” Nico continued, his head dipping down until his lips were tracing over Jack’s neck. He felt the boy shiver as he pressed a kiss to his pulse point. “Want me to teach you what she likes?”
“Please,” Jack breathed out, his eyes fluttering shut. “Fuck. Please. Yes.”
Nico lifted his gaze to look at you—a look you knew all too well.
“Bed. Now.”
The hands on his waist kept Jack locked in place as he watched you step out of his hold. He watched you continue to walk backwards until you reached the edge of the bed and quickly settled yourself down on the mattress, looking at Nico with that same expression Jack had given him earlier.
Nico pulled Jack closer, his chest pressed against the younger boy’s back as his breath tickled along his skin. Jack’s eyes fluttered shut as he began to kiss along his neck, teeth grazing against the sensitive spots that made his body push back into Nico’s.
He leaned back against the boy, his head falling back on his shoulder as Nico’s hands began to wander.
“Take off your pants,” Nico said to you, his voice rougher than moments earlier as he pushed one hand under the hem of Jack’s shirt.
Jack let out a small sound, a whimpering noise that was borderline embarrassing but Nico didn’t seem to mind. Instead, the boy lifted his head from Jack’s neck and used his free hand to grip his chin and turn his head so he could finally kiss him properly.
You watched them from your spot on the bed as you shimmied your jeans down your legs. You watched the way Nico held Jack’s face, the way his tongue swept along his lips before sinking into his mouth. You watched the way Jack’s body keened under the touch, the way his body shifted to seek more of him. You watched the way they fit together so well, like a perfect match.
Your boys.
Yours.
“Look at her,” Nico grumbled as he pulled away, despite the fact Jack kept shifting closer to kiss him again. “So impatient. Such a brat.”
Jack blinked slowly, his brain feeling like it was ten seconds behind as he turned his head to look at you. His lips parted in surprise as he found you sitting on Nico’s bed, clad in your shirt (it was really one of Nico’s) and your panties with your fingers tracing the waistband.
“M’not a brat,” you responded with a huff.
Nico grinned, leaning down to lightly nip Jack’s earlobe. “She’s such a brat,” he murmured, his large hand still splayed on Jack’s stomach and it made his head feel funny. “Gonna help me take care of her?”
He nodded.
“Go on then,” Nico said as he lightly patted Jack on his ass before stepping back. “Kneel in front of her. Be a good boy.”
He bit back the small whine he wanted to let out as he closed the distance between you and him, pausing for a moment when you reached for his shirt and yanked him down to kiss him. He sunk into the kiss quickly, letting out a relieved moan as he felt your tongue exploring his mouth.
He placed his hands on either side of you, happy to just feel your lips on his and hear the little sighs you let out against his mouth.
“Touch me, Jack,” you murmured softly between kisses.
Jack’s brain short circuited as he pulled back to look at you, hooded eyes blinking as he took in your glossy eyes and flushed expression. Almost instinctively, his eyes darted downwards to see the way you were clenching your thighs together.
“Beg him,” Nico spoke from a few feet away.
Jack gulped a little as he glanced back up at you, seeing the same hint of desperation he felt bubbling inside him.
“Please touch me, baby,” you whispered, leaning closer until your noses were brushing against each other and you could feel the shaky breath he let out. “Fuck, Jack, I wanna know how you feel. Thought about it so many times. Thought about you inside me.”
His eyes fluttered shut. “Shit.”
Because, if Jack Hughes was completely honest with himself, the whole thing felt like a dream. He had many of them since he joined the frat, since he met you and Nico and felt every perspective he had on his sexuality be thrown out the window. He had so many that eventually the guilt washed away to a more permanent emotion.
He lost track of the amount of times he dreamed of your soft hands or Nico’s board shoulders or his lips on either one of yours. He lost track of the amount of times he woke up hot and sweaty and panting in his bed. He lost track of the amount of times he fisted his cock in the shower, early in the morning when no one else was awake and he didn’t have to hide his pants and moans of your names as he came.
A small part of him was waiting for the moment to hit. He was waiting for the dream to no longer feel so real, for the edges to start to blur as his body began to wake up. He was waiting to wake up in his bed, hit with a pang of longing and loneliness with only a hard cock to show for it.
But he didn’t want this dream to end.
This felt like one of his most realistic ones yet and he wasn’t ready to let it go, he wasn’t ready to face his reality. He wasn’t ready for it to be fake.
He squeezed the fat of your thighs as he guided your legs over his shoulder, as he kissed and sucked up and down the skin of your inner thighs like he always wanted to do. He clung onto you like his dream would rip you away, like he could prevent himself from being torn away from between your thighs.
Jack listened to the way you moaned and sighed beneath his touch, the way you cried out his name as his tongue swiped along your clothed cunt and sucked the fabric in his mouth. He clung onto the way your thighs squeezed his ears as his fingers tugged the fabric of your panties to the side, as he finally got his mouth on your pussy.
He wasn’t ready to wake up and lose this. He wasn’t ready to wake up and lose the way Nico’s fingers felt tangled in his hair as he guided Jack’s head up as he ate you out. He wasn’t ready to lose the way Nico’s body felt pressed against his back, whispering what a good job he was doing as his lips wrapped around his earlobe the same way Jack was doing to your clit.
He needed to keep this.
He needed this to be real.
He needed—
“You’re so perfect, Jack,” Nico groaned from behind him, his hand reaching around to dip under the waistband of his trousers. “So fucking perfect. Our pretty boy, hm?”
He needed it all to be real.
Jack groaned against your cunt when Nico wrapped his hand around his cock, his hand so much bigger than his own. He took a moment, leaning his forehead against your thigh as Nico’s thumb lightly circled the head of his cock in a way that made his whole body shake.
“C’mon, baby, you said you wanted to make our girl feel good,” Nico whispered in his ear, pressed up against him as he continued to stroke his cock. “You only get to come when she comes.”
“Nico,” Jack panted out, his eyes clenched shut as the older boy’s fist tightened around him.
“You said you’d be my good boy, Jack.”
“I will,” he breathed out, groaning as he bucked his hips. “I am.”
“Then make her come.”
He needed this to be real. He wanted it to be real so fucking badly. He wanted this to be the life he lived, the life he had wished for constantly. He wanted for it to be you and him and Nico, he wanted it all. And maybe it made him greedy, but he needed it.
And Jack could feel everything building up.
He could feel the way your body tensed and shook underneath him as he licked and sucked and kissed your soaking cunt, as he wrapped his lips around your clit until your back was arching off the bed. He could feel the hot rush of pleasure wash down his spine as Nico continued to stroke his cock, whispering filthy words in his ear that would haunt him for the rest of his life. He could feel the overwhelming rush of emotions bubbling inside him, ready to spill into some cold, bitterness when he woke up alone.
He could feel it all and it all came crashing down at once, it felt like it fucking winded him.
And he couldn’t bear to open his eyes at first. He couldn’t bear to open his eyes and see his own room around him. To see the sun shining in through his window because he forgot to close the curtains the night before. To see himself alone in his bed. To see whatever ungodly hour he had woken up at this time.
He couldn’t bear it just yet.
And then he felt a warmth against his back. It was comforting and familiar and he craved to feel more of it. And he felt a hand in his hair, lightly scratching his scalp in a way that made him whine a little.
“Shhh, you did so well, baby. So well for us, Jack,” a voice whispered, deep and rich and soothing. A voice he craved to hear constantly.
Nico.
Because it wasn’t a dream. None of it was a dream. It was real. It was all real life. It was him and you and Nico. It was the three of you and neither of you were going anywhere and Jack wasn’t about to wake up in his room alone.
It was all fucking real.
“There he is,” you mused, your hand running through his hair as you watched his bleary eyes blink up at you. “Our pretty boy.”
His cheeks flushed in response.
“C’mon, need to get you cleaned up. I’ll get you another pair of sweatpants to wear and then we can nap, okay?” Nico asked, hardly giving Jack a chance to even answer before he pressed a kiss to the side of his head and stood up.
He hated how cold he felt without Nico behind him.
“You okay?” You asked, your voice soft and concerned, and he just wanted to close his eyes and rest his head on your lap and stay there forever.
“Is this real?” He blurted out, only slightly embarrassed by his own bashfulness as you smiled down at him.
“So real, baby,” you murmured before tugging his head back enough to lean down and kiss him. “So fucking real.”
“Good,” he hummed as his eyes fluttered shut. “I love you both too, you know?”
“Yeah, we know.”
And there was more to talk about. So much more to discuss and work out and really talk about. You knew that. Nico knew that. Jack knew it too. But it could wait. You had waited months to admit your feelings to yourselves and each other. You could wait just a little longer.
It was a conversation to be had later, when you weren’t cuddled on Nico’s bed with both your boys pressed up against you as you surrendered yourself to the sleep your body was fighting.
.
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