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lulumilkshake · 1 year

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is drunk gojo the best gojo?

pairings: g. satoru x reader

a/n: ugh im finally writing again lol

warnings: suggestive, mentions of alcohol obviously, references of my previous writing that you can read here before hand if you like, also this is lowk not proofread lmaoo

gojo satoru who comes home at 2 am after an event at jujutsu high, drunk out of his mind. he was sooo bored since you didn’t go with him that he even decided to get drunk with nanami and shoko (gojo being the only drunk one in that situation).

getting drunk was better then entertaining elders, right? not for you!

“b-baby..!” you hear him slur out, causing you to shut off the tv and rush into the kitchen from the living room.

you let out a soft sigh, eye twitching slightly as you look at the ridiculously attractive man in front of you: who was now undressing.

“aaahhh there’s my..” he pauses for a second, cheeks slightly puffed out as he struggles with the button of his blue shirt.

“there’s my beautiful wife… c’mon let’s cuddle n.. fuck..” he says with a slight giggle at the end as he walks over to you, leaning in for a kiss and hug but stumbling on top of you in the process.

with gojo attached to your side, you walk over to the fridge, struggling with every step as you grab a bottle of water for him to drink.

“now whose idea was it to have you drink..?” you mumble to yourself when you catch his 6’3 figure as he trips, slightly struggling to hold him up while he makes kissy lips towards you, water spilling on you during the process.

gojo was a horrible drunk. he had no tolerance for alcohol, period. and if he did drink, one glass was enough to get him drunk.

for the most part, he would choose not to drink at all; hating the bitter taste, so you’re a bit surprised when he came home tonight: extremely intoxicated.

“it was sooo boring without you sugar.. i had nothing better to do! please don’t be mad at me..” you feel him slightly sniffle into your nape. if you didn’t know better, you would’ve thought he was actually crying, but you’ve been through this with him before. he was also a very overdramatic drunk..

“okay you big baby.. let’s get you dressed and we can cuddle in bed, okay?” you reply with a soft tone of voice, giving into his antics and reassuring him sweetly.

“and fuck?” he asks with blue glossy puppy dog eyes, trying to seduce you as best as he could. he knew you were almost immune to them at this point though.

you roll your eyes slightly as you avert your gaze from him, feeling your face slightly get hot but not wanting to give in to his drunk self. “tomorrow.”

(the last time you had sex with him drunk he just dry humped you thinking he was inside of you.)

he sighs dramatically, lifting his head up from your neck as he fully pulls off his black sunglasses before putting on a large smile on his face, “i’ll take it!”

he chuckles like a loud hyena as he drunk-walks with you, slightly poking your cheek at every step you take. if it was possible for him to get any more obnoxious, it would be right now.

“you know just because i’m..” you groan out annoyed, holding most of his body weight on your shoulder as you try to propel him up the stairs, but he was too focused on poking and squeezing you. “..helping you up the stairs doesn’t mean your legs are paralyzed.”

he lets out another obnoxious laugh making you glare at him, as if you were waiting for a dumbass response.“you’re so sexy when you struggle thou-“

he’s cut off suddenly when you drop him on the stairs, making him cry out theatrically. you let out a little “oops!” in response causing him to wail in “pain”.

“it was a compliment! i could’ve died from that you know!” he whines out exaggerating his movements as he grabs at your ankles, squeezing them like he was begging for you to help him up.

“awh.. but you look so sexy when you struggle though!” you respond teasingly with a cute pout as you chuckle at his reaction, patting his head and cooing at him, his brows furrowing while he stares up at you. you get your little laugh in then slightly bend down to help pick him up from his spot on the stairs.

“yeah, i know.” he grumbles out with a sour tone of voice, as if he was testing the waters. you lightly loosen your grip on him causing him to have ptsd for a quick second, making him whine “no please” and “i’m sorry baby”.

at last, you finally manage to bring him up the stairs of your shared penthouse, releasing your grip on his shoulder and bicep, and letting out a soft sigh.

“and you’re lucky you’re hot..” he whispered silently, thinking only he could hear himself, but thanks to the alcohol senses are all erratic.

“what was that, hm? don’t forget you’re still in front of the staircase.” you spoke with a wicked tone of voice, making the strongest feel the weakest under your intense motherly stare.

“y-yes ma’am.. sorry..” he stares down at the floor ashamed, as he reluctantly avoids your gaze. you were doing your best to take care of him and maybe he was taking advantage of the situation.

you let out another exhausted sigh, pressing your chest against his bicep, and pulling him to the bedroom. laying back on the bed, you emit a soft moan; feeling the soft warmth of the white comforter on your skin. (gojo wants this to be a porno scene so bad btw)

“you temptin’ me?” he questions with a slight drunk cocky smirk, leaning over to whisper in your ear. he slightly unbuckles his belt on his black slacks with one hand, staring down at you with hungry eyes as the other hand goes to cup your cheek. you were surprised he actually managed to get his pants off this time!

“s-satoru.. it’s too late baby..” you mumble out, your words coming out more as a moan since you find yourself melting into his touch. he lightly kisses at your neck, making you whine at every touch of your body he makes.

while kissing him back passionately, you taste a mixture of alcohol and sugar on his tongue. every slight pant of his name just urged him to continue even more. he slid his hands through your shirt; cupping your breasts with his warm hands causing you to moan softly.

he lifts up your shirt fully and latches the bud of your nipple into his mouth as he cups your cunt through your shorts. you were gripping at his snow-white hair, pleasure filling your veins, before you hear soft snores fill your ears.

wait.

“oh my god.” you gasp under your breath at the sight, snorting loudly as you look at him fully passed out on your chest. he still had your nipple latched in his mouth, hand still cupped on your shorts as he’s fully fast asleep. the view itself.. was honestly better then sex..

seeing this sight.. no, being able to make fun of him with this sight, is the best thing you could ever ask for.

you smile devilishly as you grab your phone through your pocket, opening your camera. you snapped the photo of the blessed sight, thinking of ways you were gonna make fun of him for it in the morning..

“oh you’re in for a long ride tomorrow pretty boy.. the hangover isn’t gonna be the only thing hurtin..”

bonus! (references of my last writing read here if you don’t understand!)

“ughh baby… my hangover is killing me here!” your overly dramatic husband groans out as he hugs against your body, rubbing his head against your plush chest as a stress reliever.

“mm.. it’s what you get for trying to have a “drinking challenge” with shoko and nanami of all people.” you hum slightly as you play with his hair, scratching his undercut just how he likes it.

gojo nods contently in response before looking back at you with a slight confused expression, “how’d you find out? shoko told you? snitch.. she always tries to make me look so uncool..”

your lips curve into a slight smile as you giggle sweetly at the slight slur of shoko’s name. “oh honey.. i already saw the most uncool side of you last night anyways.”

“eh?” he tilts his head with a dumbfound expression as he watches you shut off your phone, staring up to realize you have an extremely evil smile on your face, one that makes him tremble in fear.

as the click of you opening your phone catches his attention, he gapes at the sight of your wallpaper. the photo you took of him last night.. with your nip-

“what the fuck is that?” his eyes widen as his tone is stern while he stares at the wallpaper dumbfounded, then back at you. he tries to grab the phone from your grasp friskily, his ego crushing more and more at every movement. “delete that right now.”

you let out a loud snicker as you move the phone around his hands so he can’t grasp it easily. before you could speak again he pins you against the bed, your hands above your head.

“i’m not deleting it unless you delete that whipped cream photo. that was payback, pervert.” you stick your tongue out at him while you stare at his playful annoyed facial expression.

“no way! that whipped cream photo was a rare gem. besides, it’s my number one go-to photo when i jerk off during overseas miss-“ he’s cut off once more, letting you flip him over so your now on top of him as you cover his mouth with your palm.

“that’s why I’m not deleting my rare gem either! how often is the strongest sooo vulnerable towards me that he’d pass out on top of me with my nipple in his-“

“don’t you dare finish that sentence.” he cuts you off as his brows furrow deeper, making you cackle in his palm.

“i could sue you for taking a photo of me unconsensually by the way!” oh he was a big fat hypocrite.

“..so could i, satoru..” you mutter out slightly tilting your head at his stupidly cute words.

“oh. yeah.”

he puts a hand on his chin stroking it for a long second as you get off of on top of him and plop down next to him, staring at him lovingly as you both start laughing with each other. it was dumb moments like this that really made you realize that you both loved each other so much, and would do anything for each other. you both were just two idiots in love.

…

“i’m still not deleting the whipped cream photo.”

…

“and i’m still not deleting my submissive drunk satoru photo.”

gojo groans out as he pulls you on top of him again, the sexual tension that has been filling the room from the start finally breaking.

“we should end arguments fucking more often.. y’know?” he pants out as he breaks the kiss with another stupid comment causing you to kiss him back for more, eagerly.

“don’t ruin the moment, again.”

a/n: sorry ive literally been sooo lazy to write but season 2 got me a lil bit more excited lol! hope u enjoyed this 💕💕

#gojo satoru #jujutsu kaisen smut #gojo x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu gojo #gojo fluff #jjk gojo #gojo imagines #gojo x y/n #satoru gojo x reader #satorugojo #gojo x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo headcanons

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harlowhockeystick · 9 months

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LOVESTRUCK, WENT STRAIGHT TO MY HEAD ⎯ S. CROSBY

y/n just wants the best for her son, she thinks the program rule of no freshmen players on varsity is stupid. she just did what any mother would do...right?

coach!sidney crosby x teacher!single mom!reader

warnings: angst, smut (fingering, handjob, sex on a table), somewhat of an inappropriate relationship, single parent content, light talk of divorce, lowkey based off of "slut!" by taylor swift

word count: 4,244

a/n: look at that....i do still know how to write

The bitterness of the coffee wasn’t doing it’s job. On her third cup and it’s not even ten in the morning, Y/N waits for the next period of students to walk through her door. Taking in one of the few moments of silence she has, she refreshes the page on the sports page on the school website, itching to see her son’s name.

Carter had tryouts with the hockey team last week, he had been talking about it since the beginning of the month. He was training every day to make varsity; in leagues ever since he was ten years old every single coach and spectator could not brag enough on how much talent he had. Y/N was pressured to send him across the country, even out of the country, to go to the top hockey camps but as a single mother she couldn’t do it. She couldn’t bear to send her baby off to some strangers for a few months, and she couldn't afford to move away from family either.

But her heart dropped as she refreshed the page, pulled up this season's roster, and saw her son’s name and number on the junior varsity roster instead of varsity. She didn’t understand it, she was told by the coaches herself that he was the best kid on the ice that day. Why didn’t he make varsity?

Her questions were interrupted by students flooding into the classroom for the start of the next period. She pulled herself out of her thoughts to then teach this class period. Reluctantly though.

The final bell rang and that meant she was done for the day. Saying goodbye to her students Y/N started to gather papers and put them in the “to grade” folder to take home with her before tidying up some areas of the room. She anticipated her son’s arrival. Ever since moving up to high school he always stopped by her room at the end of the day to talk about school and help her carry things to her car.

“I didn’t make it.” Carter said as a greeting when he walked in the empty room. His face was defeated, his tall slender frame was slumped over in sadness and his eyes welling with tears. Out of all people Y/N knew and saw how hard he worked to make varsity his freshman year. He skated over fifty laps a day, worked on shots in the garage until way past dusk, he also started to lift more weights.

“Oh baby, c’mere,” Y/N pulled her much taller son in for a hug. There he broke and rested into his mother's arms like a little kid again. He softly cried before pulling away.

“I don’t get it mom, they told me i’d make it for sure, why would he tell me-” “Don’t worry about it son, I will talk to the coach first thing in the morning. I promise. But for now you have to play the cards you were dealt,” Y/N consoled her son in the way moms know how. Gathering her bags she gave the heaviest one to Carter to help carry out the building. They continued chatting on the way to her car, talking about school and homework he had for the week. Carter was a special kid, he deeply cared about his grade and education. He remembers promising his mom when he was younger that if he ever got to play hockey in college that he would get his degree and not go to the draft early.

Carter was a momma’s boy through and through. His dad lived an hour away so he spent the weekends there twice a month, but he’s at his mom’s house the rest of the time. Carter is also protective of his mom too. He never told her this, but he’s beat in a couple boys’ faces because they made some lewd comments about her. He’s respectful of her, more than any other man on earth ever has been. Y/N is very proud of how she’s raised her son.

“Okay son, go to practice. Have a positive attitude, don’t do anything stupid okay? I know you’re frustrated but just go into practice and do you, maybe they got you mixed up with someone else. But-” she saw his facial expressions change and get tense, she knew that he was still angry inside, “hey, don’t get mad at them. Wait until I talk and then you and I will figure something out.”

They walked in opposite directions, Carter to the athletic building and Y/N back to the school for one more item in her classroom. Hustling as best she can so she can get home, she runs into the person she didn’t want to speak to until in the morning. Coach Crosby.

She felt her body coil and tense up in anger at just the sight. She was supposed to wait until morning, but her tongue got the best of her.

“Coach! Hey, can I ask you a quick question?” she pulls him to the side, into an empty classroom where the teacher had left for the day.

“What’s up?” Sidney asked, sitting down on one of the wooden desks. He was wearing black joggers, a tight pullover with a school cap on. Y/N couldn’t help but notice how the material of his clothing clung to his toned body. He had been out of the professional league for at least two years, but he still kept up the physical shape of his body, and it was obvious by the way his pants were stretching at the seams on his thighs.

“I really don’t want to be that parent, but can you tell me why Carter didn’t make varsity?” Sidney cocks his head to the side. He’s only been on sight three months and he’s already dealing with this.

“Well, it’s my understanding that freshmen must be on the JV team, no matter how good they are. That rule was put in place before I got here.” He explained while crossing his arms over his chest, his muscles making his pullover look incredibly small on his frame. “He’s a good kid though, he’ll make great improvements this year and I'll look forward to having him on varsity next year.” Sidney said, trying to end the conversation and smooth things over.

“But…you’re the new coach. This is your program now, not someone else’s.” Y/N couldn’t really understand what he was getting at. Did he not see the potential in her son that everyone seemed to say? Did he not see the great player, the great athlete that Carter was? Maybe it was just her being a mother, and so obviously her child is the best compared to other kids. But she swore she didn’t want to be like those parents. She remembers being a kid in youth sports herself and hated parents who thought their kid should be player of the week every week. In her mind, she needed to earn player of the week because of her work ethic, not because her parents were board members.

“Right but I'm not trying to ruffle any feathers my first year. This is barely my program, I need to establish relationships before I change things here,” Y/N takes a step closer to Sidney, her hands folded in front of her.

“But you’re Sidney Crosby, who can say no to you?” God she feels horrible for doing this, she feels like…like some junior league mom whose husband has nothing between his ears. But she thinks, if she can just rile him up for a minute, startle him, then he’ll change his mind and put Carter on varsity. That’s her end goal, get her son feeling better. If that means pretending to be a horny college student again, so be it. “I mean really, they had to give you this job cause they trust you. So obviously you can do what you want, like putting my son on your varsity team.”

He sighs, looking down at his shoes. He knows what she’s doing…and he can’t believe it’s sort of working. He hasn’t had a woman flirt with him in heaven knows how long. He doesn’t even know how to respond to such a thing anymore. His life for the past almost twenty years has been nothing but hockey. Sidney’s family has been asking him for a long time when he is going to settle down with someone, but nobody ever scratched that itch quite like hockey did. But now? That he’s got a woman in front of him, a gorgeous one at that, who’s buttering him up? Maybe he’ll give in…just to see what it feels like.

“Your son is a hell of a player, Y/N. He really could go far,” His words got heavier as she got closer, he could smell her perfume, he could feel her breath, he could see her chest move up and down with every huff she took- “so put him on your team, Coach.” she put her hand on his chest softly and she sighed feeling his stern muscles. “C’mon, what’s it gonna take? Dinner and a show?”

His eyes, dark and blown, looked into hers and if he remembers what the term eye fucking means then that’s exactly what they were doing. His breaths became short but heavy as she left a heavy hand on his chest. She rubbed her thumb over his cheek, trying her best to work her charm that she used to have. She hopes she’s still got it.

He thinks, thinks, and thinks. This is a bad decision.

“My place, six thirty tomorrow evening. Give me your best sales pitch, and we’ll see about the show.”

Sidney stands up and for a brief second his nose bumps hers, an innocent touch but it makes him take a deep breath in to calm himself down. He exits the empty class room and takes long strides to get to practice, glancing at his watch he’s already a few minutes behind.

She’s eternally grateful that Carter is with his dad this weekend. How could she explain to him that she’s not really going on a date…but she’s going to his coach's house with plans to seduce him..but again it’s not a date. Of course, she’d have to leave out the seducing part. She put on her best dress that she had, it was pretty simple but it hugged her figure nicely. She made sure to spritz some extra perfume on as well.

The drive to Sidney’s house is silent, it’s her having fake conversations in her head about what to say or what not to say. Debating on if her seduction speech was still on date or if it’s too cheesy now. She suddenly feels like she lives in the lowest tax bracket possible when entering his neighborhood; she's never seen so many fake lawns before. She’s actually never been on this side of town much, except to look at christmas lights when Carter was younger. Now that he’s older he doesn’t care for that stuff anymore.

“Nice place you’ve got,” she said walking into his entry way. To her surprise Sidney dressed up a little bit, wearing a button up with a nice pair of slacks, the top two buttons undone for visual purposes of course. He takes her coat and her purse, hanging it up by the door. “What’s on the menu?”

“Well, I figured I'd go simple with just spaghetti and toast, with dessert to follow if that’s okay.” Sidney went into his pantry and pulled out a bottle of red wine. “This okay?” He holds the bottle in the air and she nods her head, sitting at his kitchen bar watching him pour a glass. She takes a glance at the label and she’s taken back. On her teacher salary she definitely can’t afford that brand.

Maybe she’s in over her head here- she didn’t think about any of this stuff. Suddenly she’s this woman who doesn’t have much to her name, sitting in a millionaire’s kitchen drinking wine that costs well over two hundred dollars- but damn if it doesn’t taste good.

They make small talk before heading into the dining room where he sets dinner onto the table for her, such a gentleman. Continuing the semi dull conversation she thanks him for making a meal for her, joking that she’s never had a man make dinner for her. Only half true, her dad growing up would make dinners for her family. But when she married Carter’s dad, she was the chef in the family. Not that she was complaining, it was just odd for her to be on the reverse side for the first time in a while.

“I am sorry about that idiotic rule, Y/N. Carter can easily be a varsity player.” Sidney broke the minute silence after finishing off his second glass of wine that night. She huffs, finishing her plate and scooting it away from her on the table. Was she really about to do this?

“Is there anything I can do, sidney? C’mon my boy’s in shambles, he’s thinking that he’s not as good as everyone makes him out to be,” Y/N reaches her hand out to rest on his softly. “Is there anything I can do?”

Y/N hoped he knew what she was implying and that she didn’t have to say it out loud.

And he did.

He understood every word she said and the words that were left unsaid. He knew what she was implying and he knew what she was getting at. But Sidney hated that he was willing to do what she wanted. Y/N was leaning forward on the table, getting close enough to Sidney where he could smell her perfume and her lotion mixed together, he could see a couple small freckles up close as he couldn’t see them from a bit further away.

There were no words exchanged between them, his eyes kept drifting from her tinted lips to her lustful eyes, back and forth a couple times before resting his hand on her cheek and pressing his lips against hers gently. Immediately he felt a rush of arousal- it’s just a kiss, really? He silently asked himself. He hadn’t gotten this aroused in a while, a long while.

Both parties leaned into the kiss, wanting and aching for more. They tasted wine on each other and felt each other’s temperature begin to rise. Sidney got out of his chair, lips still connected to hers, and got closer. She stood up, one hand cupping his chin and the other resting on his chest, and she leaned against the dining table. She hadn’t made out with someone in years, she hopes she’s doing it right.

She gets pushed onto the table just by the force of his body so now she’s sitting on the wooden table, Sidney standing in between her legs with both of his hands cupping her face. He doesn’t care if he seems desperate or if he seems needy, or if this is totally wrong and against almost all of the words he signed in his contract, he can’t seem to get enough of her. Sidney feels her play with the buttons of his shirt and how she begins to pull the shirt up and out of his dress pants. It was easy since he wasn’t wearing a belt.

He didn’t even know that she completely unbuttoned his shirt until he felt her hands roam all over his naked chest, her hands slowly raking up and down his toned muscles. He takes a breath and scans her body. Her skin is hot to the touch, her eyes are completely blown now and her lips are parted. “How do I get this off you?” he asked, taking a fist of the hem of her dress.

“There's a tie in the back,” she huffed out, not able to take her hands off his body. Plus, she wants him to take it off of her.

“You tied this yourself?” he asked in shock, surprised at how she tied such a perfect bow on her back with such thin strings.

“I’ve been tying, zipping, buttoning my dresses myself for the past twelve years now, safe to say I got pretty good at it.” God- has she been alone for the past twelve years? Nobody to love on, kiss on, touch on this wonderful body of hers? Sidney takes in a sharp breath when he pulls the dress off of her and he gives her body a quick scan over. Wearing a strapless bra that she’s almost spilling out of, she has on silk leopard print panties that he can’t help but notice a significant damp spot on.

“Fuck,” he mumbles, hands roaming over her soft skin. “Don’t make fun of me, it’s been a long time since I've hooked up with someone.” because that’s just what this is, a hookup. Nothing more, nothing less.

“I haven’t since I got divorced, so it's the same here.” she hooks her leg around his pulling him closer. He pressed his lips against hers again this time most softly. His hand goes down to play with the hem of her panties, “you sure about this?”

“Very sure, don’t mess with a pissed off mama sidney.” she pulls him down with her as she lays down on the table. He kisses down her body, she arches her back and lets him take her bra off. Tossing it onto the floor Sidney wraps his lips around one of her hardened nipples. She lets out a heavenly sounding moan at the action.

It’s been so long she could cum just from Sidney doing this for a couple minutes longer. One hand slips down over her clothed cunt, rubbing her sensitive and wet area. She arches her body into his, already she’s lost in a great euphoric high that she can’t even mumble words. All that’s coming out is moans and gasps.

He removes his mouth and Sidney stands up, she watches up on her elbows as he takes his pants off and removes his boxers. She bites her lip at the size - the sight - of his hardened dick in his hand. She reaches out for it herself, “you’ll give me what I want, and I promise you won’t regret it.” he thought for a moment too long, she began to doubt herself but he spoke up, “deal.”

She licks her hand before taking a grip on his cock. Slowly she starts stroking up and down, keeping harsh eye contact with sidney. She gives him a nice squeeze and a twist of her hand which makes him throw his head back in pleasure. He can only do so much with his hand, it’s nice to have someone else for a change. Y/N scoots closer to him on the table, with one of his hands he works his hand over one of her breasts softly massaging it. She leans into his touch and continues to work her hands over his hard cock.

He moves his hand from her breast down and slips it into her soaked panties. At first his fingers were a little cold but they quickly warmed up after being immersed in her sex. He circles around her clit a couple times, getting familiar with the female body again. He explores for a minute or two, his middle finger teasing her hole. The more he teases her the harder her grip gets on his cock. He pulls his hand out of her panties, they’ve never broken eye contact this whole time and he sucks everything off of his hand. God that was hot.

Sidney removes her hand from his cock fearing if she kept going he would cum all over her hand and that wasn’t what he wanted to do. He’s panting heavy now, his body forming sweat on his forehead. He pushes her down onto the table with a palm on her chest lining his cock up with her entrance, “wait do I need any-”

She chuckles, “that ship sailed a while ago, just fuck me like you mean it coach.”

With her permission she slides in and she lets out a long, loud, moan as he does it. He wants to hear that on repeat for the rest of his life, he swears. Sidney puts both hands on her hips, keeping her body steady as he rocks in and out of her, his hips meeting her every time.

Sidney allows to feel himself in her warm, wet walls. He throws his head back in pleasure and she shuts her eyes tight. Her hands come up to her breasts to add to the pleasure, fingers pinching both of her nipples as she feels his huge cock pump in and out of her small hole. He feels like he’s three feet deep inside of her, he feels lost in how good she feels. His head grows foggy each time he squeezes her.

Sidney hits the spongy spot in her tight cunt that made her gasp out in pleasure, she sang his name like a chant over and over which made him fuck her harder and harder. She warned him about her orgasm and he did the same, begging her to cum with him. A few more pumps of his cock he spilled his heavy load inside of her and she moaned loudly like a queen when he did. He pulled his cock out of her, watching his load spill out with it.

Maybe it was the post orgasm haze she was in, maybe it was the lovestruck feeling she had the minute they began making out, but minutes later she’s standing between him and the cold shower wall. His forehead pressed against hers. His fingers knuckle deep in her cunt and a hand wrapped around her throat as hot water rained down on either of them, her cunt squeezing his thick fingers while she couldn’t even say anything but his name. That’s exactly what he wanted.

The hot shower water kept her eyes shut but she knew that he was gazing at her. He was in awe of her facial expressions, how she bit her lip through a smile with every jerk he made with his hand, when she furrowed her eyebrows when she was on the edge of cumming, and how she cocked her head to the side while he kissed around her neck silently asking for more.

He took his hand away from her pussy, licking the honey off his fingers. He stayed that close to her though knowing her legs were probably jello and she wasn’t able to stand for at least a minute or two.

She took a deep breath, “got what you wanted?” she asked in a joking tone, moving her hand up and down his chest in the hot steamy shower. He chuckled, his hands never leaving her body. He palmed her breasts, he seemed to have a thing for those she contemplated, heavy lustful eyes staring into hers.

“How many more you got in you?” he asked, spreading her legs with his thigh.

“I can give you as much as you want.” Y/N answered, her hands slowly roaming down lower and lower on his chest and stomach.

“Then no, I didn’t get what I want yet.”

She woke up in Sidney’s bed the next morning with messy hair and sore muscles. Looking over on the nightstand the clock read 8:02 AM. She was glad that it was a Saturday and she was able to sleep in. She saw that Sidney was still asleep, he laid on his stomach with his head facing the other way. Looking over his back, studying the freckles, the faded scars. Y/N wants to stay in this moment for as long as she can.

She hates to admit but she really fell for Sidney. Not because of how skilled he was in bed, or because he could do wicked things with his hands, but she shared a few heartfelt conversations with him before tryouts even began.

He cared for the kids at school, the kids he taught and the kids he coached. He had a heart for the coming generation. He wanted them to have someone in their corner, and some kids don’t have that at home and he wants to be that. She got lovestruck in the past few months, sure she never planned on sleeping with him, she felt young again with how big of a crush she had. It went straight to her head, it all moved so fast.

God if her mother were still here she could just hear the word “slut!” come out of her mouth if her mom found out what happened. But she wouldn’t care. She enjoyed it, and she was sure Sidney enjoyed it too.

But still, she can’t help but think to herself what did I just do?

Sidney turns his head and sees that she’s also awake. Raising up he sees the time, 8:10. He doesn’t even care that he missed his morning workout session an hour late. He puts his arm around her and pulls her closer to him, tucking his head in her neck. With dry lips Sidney placed a tender lingering kiss on her hot skin.

It might be worth it for once, she thinks.

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tagging mutuals to boost, let me know if you don’t want to be tagged! @fallinallincurls @nylwnder @bitchinbarzal @ilyasorokinn @leafsbabe @twinklelilstarkey @raysofcrosby @lcandothisallday

#j's writing #sidney crosby #coach!sidney #sidney crosby x reader #sidney crosby imagine #nhl imagine #nhl x reader #nhl writing #nhl smut #sidney crosby smut #nhl x you #smut #drabble #blurb

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hugshughes · 2 months

Text

betty C. Bedard

Connor Bedard x fem!reader

synopsis - senior year starts, and Connor tries to fix everything after you were left torn to shreds after rumors all summer spread through your small town that Connor had a fling with someone all summer. a fling that supposedly began not long after the messy and unclear "end" of your relationship with him.

wc - 5k

contains - based off of Betty so... <\3. but not that bad because it's less James (Connor) being a douche and more teenagers love to spread rumors and misinformation!!!! crying, sadness, anger, shouting :( but also!!!! touching, hugging, kissing, making out a little bit. reader is 17, and her birthday isn't exactly clear but it's in september. Connor is a jealous teenage boy, and reader is a jealous teenage girl <\3. OH also my high school was 4 periods with over 2000 students and home room was just first period??? i know others are obvi different but that's just what im going off of!

an - hai!!! me when i cut lyrics like this when they don't exactly match how im writing the fic >_< i missed u people. i'm very genuinely sorry i've been gone but i genuinely have had one of the best summers of my life. IM SORRY A CHORUS GOT CUT IT WAS GONNA MAKE THIS HAVE TOO MUCH FILLER OKAY I DID THIS FOR US.

betty, i won't make assumptions, about why you switched your homeroom. but, i think it's 'cause of me.

Second day of senior year, you prayed it would be better than the first.

Yesterday, August 27th, you'd walked into homeroom, and your heart had dropped. Connor sat at a table in the back, laughing at something with his friends. Your Connor. You couldn't even call him that anymore. He wasn't yours. Apparently, he was another girl's, now. A girl from your town's rival school, Augustine, or something.

You sat through first period financial literacy with a weight in your chest. You sat at the very front table with a few friends, trying to smile and converse with them. They could tell something was wrong, and when your teacher said Connor's name during attendance they'd realized what.

You went to second period, feeling a bit better. Then, during lunch, you sped to the guidance office, begging your counselor to change your schedule. She was skeptical, having a feeling it had to do with something social, which she didn't believe called for a change. But when she noticed the tears that welled up in your eyes, she just smiled and clicked her mouse a few times, handing you a brand new paper for the classes you'd start the next morning.

To say Connor Bedard noticed you when you came into homeroom yesterday was the understatement of the year. The boy's smile dropped, his eyes locked on your figure as you shrugged your backpack off, smiling at your friend you sat next to. Yes, this class would be his chance to reconnect with you, fix and explain everything.

He walked into day 2 with a plan, a plan to somehow talk to you in first. He sat in the same seat he had yesterday, talking with his friends while his eyes never left your chair. He waited, and waited, and waited for you to walk in. You never did, you were in another classroom, first period AP Spanish, laughing with your best friend as you did icebreakers.

When the bell rang, he stopped the girl you sat next to the day before, awkwardly calling her name. He asked her where you were, and your friend faked confusion while she fought off laughter.

"Oh, she had her schedule switched, she has like Spanish now I think."

He nodded, mumbling a thank you as he swiftly exited the classroom, his friends shouting at him from the doorway.

As the school day went on, your day got significantly better while Connor's did the opposite. He got in his car after the final bell had rung, sitting in silence for just a minute before his friends piled in. Of course they'd all lived in your neighborhood, it being the most common one for your high school.

betty, one time, i was ridin' on my skateboard. when i passed your house, it's like i couldn't breathe.

He dropped them off at their respective homes, turning down your street to exit the neighborhood. He slowed down as he passed your house, your car was already in the driveway, you must've just got home. Last year Connor drove you to and from school almost every day, he missed that.

You two had broken up, if you could even call it that, in late May. The two of you were arguing about something both of you would now call dumb and you'd stupidly blocked his number after an angry phone call. Connor took that as you ending it, you took it as you were sick of arguing and couldn't speak to him in the moment. You were an emotional wreck when Connor had started ignoring you, still believing it was just all stupid misplaced emotions that needed to be talked through. You let him give you the silent treatment, knowing you were both still very upset.

About two weeks later, still nothing was resolved. School had been over for about a week, but you were miserable. Everything went to shit when you were tapping through Snapchat stories one night. One of your mutuals from school had posted a photo of her and her boyfriend, Connor, and another girl sitting next to each other on a bed in the background. They weren't cuddling, but their thighs were touching while they both looked at something on Connor's phone so basically your life was ruined.

You had over a dozen girls send you the story, asking what the fuck had happened. You had to tell them and yourself that you were broken up.

you heard the rumors from inez, you can't believe a word she says most times. but this time it was true.

It was extremely embarrassing for you once people that you barely even knew were telling others your business.

Connor knew he was royally fucked whenever a random girl he knew you were friends with had come up to him at a party during the summer and asked him about Augustine.

"Is she your new girlfriend?"

"What? No. I don't have a girlfriend."

"That's not what she thinks."

He almost asked who, but he knew who she was talking about. You. Everything was you. He couldn't get you out of his mind no matter how hard he had tried.

the worst thing that i ever did, was what i did to you.

Augustine didn't mean anything to him. His friend had tried to set him up with her because of how sad he'd been. But, he didn't have eyes for anyone but you, so she was just a friend of his.

All summer, he'd tried to find ways that put you two in the same place at the same time. Your town's annual Fourth of July fireworks? You were at the beach with family. Your mutual friend's huge 17th birthday bash? You were at young life camp with friends. The one time it could've worked was when you hosted a party, it was an open invite, but of course, it was the weekend Connor had his biggest hockey camp of the summer. It's like the universe wanted him miserable.

but if i just showed up at your party, would you have me?

You tried to erase Connor from your mind, but it was too hard. Living in a town where everything reminded you of the blonde boy sucked. And even if you were gone, you couldn't get away from him online, either. He was the guy to be watching for next year's NHL Draft. He was amazing, but he was also a very young and socially dumb boy.

You and Connor had gotten together towards the end of freshman year. It'd been about a month since your two year anniversary when the whole miscommunication and breakup took place. He was your first boyfriend, and you were his first girlfriend. Everyone at school knew about you two, even the people who didn't know you at all. It wasn't because you two were grossly comfortable with PDA at 8 am on a Wednesday.

You two weren't at all comfortable with your relationship being too on display to anyone, but the small and subtle things that made people silently root for the two. People saw just how you looked at each other, and how your moods changed with and without each other. They watched you two together at every event. Saw you as the loudest girl in the student section at hockey games. It was just sweet.

would you want me?

Connor was fucked. Although he couldn't confirm it, he was convinced your disappearance from first period was due to his presence. You changed your schedule to get away from him, that's how much he'd hurt you.

would you tell me to go fuck myself?

He wondered what you'd do if he just showed up at your house, or came up and asked to talk to you at school. Would you tell him to fuck off? Would you agree to talk, and listen to his apologies?

or lead me to the garden? in the garden, would you trust me, if i told you it was just a summer fling?

Connor had to speak with you, he couldn't contain himself any longer. When the final bell rang he sat in his car and waited for his friends, driving them home, through your neighborhood once again. He passed your house, only your car was in the driveway. He parked on the street, closing his car door gently behind him as he trekked up your driveway and to the front door.

He knocked softly, stepping back a few feet to wait. After thirty seconds the door opened a third of the way, your body coming into view. You were already in comfy clothes, you hated when your outside clothes touched your bed, Connor remembered. Your eyes widened, your brain sending panic signals through your body, your limbs freezing up.

"Oh my God. Uh, hi?"

You had no clue why Connor would be standing awkwardly on your front porch at 2:38 pm on a Tuesday.

"Hey. You can tell me to fuck right off and I will but, can we like, talk?"

i'm only seventeen, i don't know anythin'. but, i know i miss you.

You blinked a few times, the words taking a moment to register. Connor wanted to talk to you? About what? Did he need real closure after all the dumb shit that happened between you?

"Oh, yeah, sure. Come in."

You led him to your room, you weren't sure why you didn't just go to the living room, silently cursing yourself halfway up the stairs. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Was it clean? Were there clothes on the floor? You were now mortified by the idea of Connor seeing a bra on your bedroom floor, something that wouldn't have crossed your mind five months ago.

Your room was fine, only some socks and a sweatshirt on the ground. You sat in the cushy chair in your corner, pulling your knees to your chest. Connor sat cautiously on the end of your bed, he was always the one person you'd let wear outside clothes on your bed because you didn't care as long as he was laying with you.

It was eerily silent for a few moments before Connor spoke up, your head snapping to him.

"Um, I've been wanting to talk for a really long time, seriously."

You nodded, your eyes leaving his, the air too tense.

"Me too."

Connor's eyes widened at that, seriously? You wanted to talk to him? That was what he'd been hoping for months.

"I can't really think of a better way to say this but, uh. I miss you, a fuckin' lot. And I know I royally fucked up but I really just want you in my life. I hate the tension and the fuckin' like, uncertainty between us."

What? You were so confused. He missed you? But you had people all damn summer nothing but happy to fill you in on all of the Connor and Augustine news. Connor took your silence as you expecting more from him, so he filled it.

"And I know that everything that happened was because I was being a jealous asshole. I'm really sorry and I will show you that."

betty, i know where it all went wrong. your favorite song was playing from, the far side of the gym.

Ah, yes, the fight that ruined it all. See, in May, Connor and the Regina Pats were fighting through the playoffs, and he had one of the biggest games of the season on the night of prom. It was your first prom, and you'd been so excited to go with your boyfriend, so you can imagine the disappointment when he told you he wasn't going to be able to make it. You were crushed, to say the least, and sulked the entire time.

i was nowhere to be found, i hate the crowds, you know that.

The only few minutes you had fun the whole night was when a group of your friends had gotten you to dance after hours of begging, and a photo was taken of you with an arm innocently and extremely appropriately around a guy friend of yours' shoulders. It was platonic, even another girl friend of yours was on the other side of him and had her arm over yours.

It was really not a big deal, but Connor had seen it and was extremely jealous, and felt guilty. He was envious but also beating himself up over not being there.

plus, i saw you dance with him.

"Connor, that wasn't all your fault. I was a crazy bitch and blocked you, even if it was for like forty minutes. I shouldn't have done that, it was stupid. All of it."

He nodded, both of you unsure of what to say next.

you heard the rumors from inez. you can't believe a word she says, most times. but this time, it was true.

"And, I don't know if you care or not. But, I know all sorts of people have been saying stuff about me and Augustine. I promise you that I hung out with her that one time with Adam and hated it. I told her that and we were just kind of friends I guess. I only saw her one other time all summer. I wasn't already moving on from you, 'm still not."

He'd be the death of you, you were sure of it. Did he know how badly you needed to hear that? Even if you were skeptical if it was true when it first came from his mouth, the moment of silent eye contact between you two spoke volumes. He wouldn't lie to you, he was the most honest person you ever knew.

"I think it's stupid for us not to be friends, Connor. We were best friends before and while we dated. I miss that with you."

the worst thing that i ever did, was what i did to you.

You also missed kissing him, and cuddling, and whispering sweet nothings, and holding hands under the table at dinner.

You might as well have dangled Connor's heart on a string in front of him then decided to stomp on it. Friends. That would have to be how it was, he knew he couldn't have none of you, and some of you would always be better than none of you.

"That'd be really good."

You both smiled, although in your minds you both wanted more, you were too scared to say it. You stood up, Connor right after. You just looked at him close up for the first time in a while and sighed happily. You hugged him without caution, arms around his waist and face in his chest. His came around your shoulders, squeezing tightly if only for a few seconds before you let go of what had to be a friendly hug.

You both walked downstairs, Connor opening the front door and stepping onto your porch.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Connie."

"Yeah, okay."

You shut the door with a smile, immediately freaking out as Connor did the same on the other side. You had no desire to be only friends with Connor, but it was the safest route to having him in your life without getting hurt.

i was walkin' home on broken cobblestones.

Connor sat in his car, staring through the windshield. A thousand thoughts raced through his mind. He finally had his favorite girl back in his life, but not the way he wanted. That would have to be enough though, some of you would always be better than none of you.

He snapped back into it when he realized he'd been parked outside your house for multiple minutes and drove off. He went home and then later to hockey practice, and you never left his mind.

just thinkin' of you when she pulled up, like a figment of my worst intentions.

The next day at school you smiled at Connor in the hallway. He was teased for the rest of the day by his friends at the blush he possessed after it happened.

For the next month or so, you two danced around each other. You talked often and hung out together in group settings. At school, you'd talk and laugh, all of your friends demanding they could tell you were still in love. The both of you would insist that you were now just friends and happy about it, even though both of you were yearning to be so much more than that.

she said, "james get in, let's drive." those days turned into nights. slept next to her,

Your birthday was approaching, your 18th. You insisted you wanted something small, a dinner party with your favorite people. You'd invited over a dozen of your friends, receiving RSVPs of yes from all of them. There was still one more blonde boy you wanted to ask, though.

When the final bell rang, you ran out of school like every other teen with a car. Instead of going to yours, you found yourself walking up to Connor's black jeep, one you were oh so familiar with. He was on his phone but noticed you immediately as you were walking up.

He rolled his window down, a grin gracing his face.

"Hey, what's up?"

You lent your elbow against the window sill, resting your cheek against your hand.

"So, my birthday's on Saturday, and I'd really like if you came. It's just a small dinner party at my house, nothing crazy. You might be the only guy attending but I'd love if you could make it. I totally get if you can't though, it's a bit short notice."

Connor's eyebrows raised in shock. You wanted him at your birthday? This felt more intimate between the two of you than any other moment in the past couple weeks. Connor wasn't gonna let you down like he had at prom.

"I'll be there. Can't wait."

Connor wished he didn't love how your eyes instantly brightened, the corners crinkling to match the grin on your face.

"Great, awesome. I'll see you there Connie."

You brushed your hand over his shoulder as you said bye and turned to trek to your parking spot.

"Yeah, bye. I lo-"

I love you. Connor cut himself off before he could say he loved you. Holy shit, why did he almost say he loved you? He prayed you couldn't hear it, the way you kept walking didn't make it look like you did, but he couldn't see your face.

Your jaw dropped, hearing the first two syllables out of his mouth before he caught himself. Oh my God, Connor almost just told you he loved you. You kept on to your car, waiting until you were alone to freak out. Of course, you'd said it all the time while dating, but he hadn't told you that in months, you assumed he didn't feel that way about you anymore.

Connor had told you he couldn't wait for your party, and it was the truth. He had never been a patient boy, and waiting to see you all day on Saturday had him fidgety. He was wearing jeans and a navy Ralph Lauren quarter-zip, a white t-shirt peeking out from the unzipped section. He was wearing his cleanest sneakers and held a small gift bag in one hand, flowers in the other.

betty, i'm here on your doorstep. and, I planned it out for weeks.

He knocked on your door at 7:02, having been sitting in his car outside your house since 6:57, telling himself he could do this. You opened the door quickly, a gorgeous smile on your face. Your eyes widened when you saw what was in Connor's hands, wrapping your arms around his neck in what was too close to be a friendly hug. He wrapped his arms around you, careful to not dishevel the flowers.

"Hey, Connor. Thanks for coming."

"Wouldn't miss it. Happy birthday."

You pulled away after what felt like not long enough, leading Connor inside. He handed you the flowers, a moment of tension between you. Your mother greeted him, hugging him and taking the flowers from you to put in a vase.

Connor was first to arrive, followed shortly by your best friend, who silently made fun of you for how flustered you were. Everyone was in your house by 7:18, and you talked and mingled until around 8 when you decided it was time to eat. You sat next to Connor at your big dining table, earning a few teasing looks from your girl friends.

Dinner lasted a while, everyone talking and laughing. A little over an hour passed by before your mom came through the entrance of the room, holding a stand with a cake, 18 golden candles stuck in the pink and white frosting. Everyone sang as you awkwardly laughed. You closed your eyes and wished for Connor, he was all you could think of. You blew your candles out and everyone cheered, clapping and laughing.

You hung out for a while with everyone, another hour and a half passing before people's curfews started falling. Of course, Connor was the last person there, he'd always been the last one there when everyone else had gone.

but, it's finally sinkin' in.

You two sat on the couch, still awfully close even though everyone else was gone.

"You gonna open your gifts?"

You turned and looked at the small pile of boxes and bags, shrugging.

"My mom always said it was rude to open gifts in front of my guests."

"Am I just a guest to you?"

You laughed, shaking your head. You stood and grabbed all the gifts, laying them on your coffee table before you began opening things. Every gift was thoughtful and sweet, you left things in specific piles so you knew what to thank people for later. Connor's gift was last, and his stomach twisted when you grabbed the bag.

betty, right now is the last time, i can dream about what happens when, you see my face again.

Shit, this was when he was gonna tell you everything. You pulled at the neatly placed tissue paper, you could tell Mrs. Bedard had helped Connor out. The first piece came out and you saw the envelope sitting on the side of the bag. You grabbed it and Connor gently grabbed your wrist.

the only thing i wanna do,

"Can you read it after? I wanna see your reaction before."

"Okay."

Your eyebrows scrunched, but you didn't think too much of it. You pulled out the next piece of tissue paper and your jaw dropped. A small teal box sat wrapped in a bow. The color was unmistakable, the bow too. You looked up at Connor with wide eyes, already feeling tears prick your waterline.

"Connor you didn't."

is make it up to you.

"You don't even know what I did. Look at it."

You grabbed the box, pulling it out and gently untying the bow. You slip the lid off the box, your assumption proved correct, a beautiful white gold necklace lying pretty and perfect in the box. Two heart-shaped white gold pendants hung down, shiny and polished to perfection. Your eyes watered, no one had ever done something so kind for you.

"Connor, I can't even accept this. 'S too much."

"Well I'm not gonna wear it, and I'm not returning it either."

You lightly examined the necklace, light reflecting on the second heart causing something to catch your eye. You held the box closer to your face, squinting for just a second before your eyes widened. There was a small 98 engraved in the heart, your jaw dropping slightly.

so i showed up at your party. yeah, i showed up at your party.

"I've had it since June. I'd tried to order it for our two years but it took forever to ship."

You couldn't help but set the small box down and throw your arms around Connor, a huff of surprise leaving him at the impact. His arms wrapped around you, squeezing tightly.

"I love it, I love you."

You took a leap of faith as you pulled back just slightly and kissed your ex-boyfriend. His arms around you tightened, kissing back immediately. Your hands held his face as you kissed fervently. You were practically pulled into Connor's lap by the time you pulled away to catch your breath, chest heaving as you stared at each other. Connor grinned, extremely happy his girl was back in his arms.

yeah, i showed up at your party.

"I love you."

You giggled and leaned your forehead against his shoulder, still taking in what had just happened.

"Missed you so much."

You turned your head and left a kiss on his neck in response, your boy was back in your arms.

"Missed you more. You don't even know."

"I do know, all summer fuckin' sucked."

"Yeah! And your ass had dating rumors two weeks after we 'broke up'!"

"The key word there is rumors."

You both laughed, Connor kissing you again. You both smiled and giggled into the kiss, tingles running through your bodies.

"Hey, sweetheart! Did everyone leave?"

Your mom had gone upstairs to bed after cake, you thought she'd be asleep by now. You shushed Connor's giggling, pushing yourself off his lap and pulling him up with you.

will you have me?

"Almost mom! Connor's still here, he's leaving soon!"

"Alright, well goodnight you two!"

You both called goodnight to her, turning and smiling at each other.

"I guess that was you demanding I leave."

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him down and pecking him a few times.

"Shut up! If I had only said that you were still here she'd probably be down here in her pajamas making sure we aren't getting at it on my couch."

Connor just laughed, kissing you again. You two sat back down and just sat together for a while. You both had missed just existing together so much. It was nearing midnight when Connor told you he had to go.

"I have practice at like 6 tomorrow."

"Connor! You're only gonna get like five hours of sleep. Go home."

He stood up, pulling you with him. You walked him out, very quietly opening the front door. Connor's arms wrapped around you again as you stood on the front porch of your home. You laid your head in the curve of his neck with your arms wrapped around his shoulders. You stood in silence for a few moments, before you interrupted the quiet.

"You know what I wished for?"

"No. What'd you wish for?"

"You."

will you kiss me on the porch, in front of all your stupid friends?

He grinned, kissing you sweetly. He held your face as your hands gripped at his quarter-zip. After a few moments, you pulled away, giggly and drunk in love. You didn't know but your Ring Doorbell was catching the whole thing on camera.

You two stood on your porch talking until ten after midnight when you cursed at yourself and insisted Connor needed to go get some rest.

"Walk me to my car?"

"Fine, princess."

if you kiss me, will it be just like i dreamed it?

He failed to fight his laughter as he told you to shut up. You held hands as you walked down your driveway, Connor's jeep parked on the side of the road.

Connor leaned you back against the driver's door and kissed you real good. You almost forgot it was nearing 12:20 am and you were in the middle of your street making out with your technically still ex-boyfriend.

will it patch your broken wings? i'm only seventeen, i don't know anything. but i know i miss you.

You snapped back to reality and pulled away from Connor.

"You need to stop kissing me while I'm trying to get you to go home."

He climbed into his jeep, rolling down the window and leaning his arms against the window frame. As much as you wanted him to go home and get some sleep, you also loved and missed him too much to give up this moment.

"You love it, though."

standin' in your cardigan.

You rolled your eyes and sighed playfully, tilting your head and giving him a smile.

"Might be a crazy question but are we together now?"

"We were never broken up in my mind."

"Cut the poetic shit Bedard. Am I your girlfriend or not?"

He laughed, that was his girl.

"You wanna be?"

You gave him a legitimate eye roll that time, he just laughed again.

"Yes, you're my girlfriend and I'm your boyfriend."

"Perfect, awesome. Have an amazing night. I will text you tomorrow morning whenever I wake up. Which is not gonna be around 5:30 like you."

He groaned thinking of morning practice but was back to smiling at you in less than a moment. You leaned forward, kissing him one more time.

kissin' in my car again. stopped at a streetlight.

You pulled back with a sleepy smile, your whole heart content.

"I love you, Connor."

"I love you."

“Drive safe.”

Connor watched you all the way up the driveway and into your house, waiting a few extra seconds for you to lock the door before he sped home.

Once you closed and locked the door, you were smiling and giggling to yourself. You put on your new necklace and cleaned up from your party.

The two of you slept soundly, you knowing you finally had your person back, and wouldn't lose him again anytime soon. Connor would've been okay with 20 minutes of sleep if that's how long you kept him. His girl was finally his again, and he wasn't going to lose her again.

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banj0possum · 1 year

Note

I need more jock x reader with reader having a big attitude and shows big disinterest in Brandon🥰

Jock x Gn Reader pt. 3

there was also an anon who requested reader topping Brandon so ill add it in as well :3

🏈 You've been tutoring Brandon for a few weeks now. Even after he passed that english test, he insisted you'd tutor him even in other subjects.

🏈 Of course you didn't care because you never wanted to tutor him in the first place.

🏈 No matter how clear your explanations are, he never got it until an hour of guiding him step by step, it was terribly draining to you and the alone time you were supposed to spend instead of teaching a dumb jock like him what 2+2 was.

🏈 Despite you thinking he's all muscle and no brains, Brandon's pretty smart, he gotta keep his grades up for football somehow, but the more time he spent playing dumb, the more time he spent with you, zoning out of your cute face that gets upset when you notice him staring at you googly-eyed, snapping your fingers at him to wake him up.

🏈 He won't say it out loud, but he relished the thought of your annoyed face, it awoken a part of him that he didn't even know existed.

🏈 Brandon would spot you amongst the crowd during break periods and if he tried to tease you or mess with you, you'd give him a sharp glare, sometimes grabbing his wrist or arm to stop him from wrapping an arm around you or playing with your hair.

🏈 It aroused encouraged him honestly.

🏈 His friends would notice him talking and hanging out with you more often and would ask him about you, Brandon confessing his slight big crush on you.

🏈 They'd coach him, telling him sweet poems to write, pickup lines, gifts, gestures to make you notice him, even his friends' girlfriends would tell him things they felt would work with you.

🏈 He had a few tricks he used on girls to get with them, but they never worked with you, so he might as well try.

🏈 He'd try to impress you, lifting weights, working out, all to get your attention. A compliment, a glance, even a scoff over how much he's trying, please notice him!!!

🏈 You rarely did, but whenever you do, you'd go out of your way to push him off his high horse, lunches bought for you were repaid with you teasingly treating him to food, even feeding him which flustered him to no end.

🏈 Cheesy flirts were deflected towards him whenever you gave him little touches and the like. You made him feel so small, so inferior...he loved it.

🏈 You'd walk in the room, and he'd be in a strange pose looking at you come in, his head resting in his hand as he spread himself on your couch.

🏈 "Is it just me or did it just get hotter in here?"

🏈 But you paid no mind, in fact, you leaned over him, your hands supporting you on both sides of him evidently trapping him as his face goes red by you glaring at him. "Uh-uhm...wow, now it's actually getting hot in here..whew!"

🏈 You hated it, but his little moves started growing in you, eventually earning smiles and giggles from you as you hid your face from him, but you always scoffed and shoved him away afterwards.

🏈 But that changed when you heard from one of your friends that he turned down a girl who wanted to sleep with him. He'd never do that! Unless he already has someone in mind...oh no..

🏈 You tried your best to avoid him that day but of course he found you, he was about to spew out another pickup line when you grabbed him by his letterman jacket's collar and slammed him into the lockers, pinning him.

🏈 You asked if all along his flirting and gifts were all a ploy to get you to fuck him through seething teeth.

🏈 His sweat dropped as you pinned him, his face getting redder by the second.

🏈 He gets shy all of a sudden, looking down like a sad puppy, pulling at your heart. You sigh as you let go of him, walking away from him.

🏈 "One chance, my house." You say as you leave him there with his hand on the parts of his neck that got red from you grabbing his collar.

🏈 When he saw you leave, he pumped his fists in the air and ran to tell his friends you asked him out.

🏈 He drove to your house in the best clothes he had without making him seem desperate. He knocked on the door and you let him in. He's been to your house many times but never because of another reason than tutoring, this seemed more intimate to him somehow.

🏈 You sat him down and you two talked, if he really liked you, if he really wanted to be with you, if he really liked you not just for a one-night stand.

🏈 "Y-you really thought that?...Sorry it's just- I'm not good at this...actual relationships I mean..I know it sounds bad but-...yeah it is..but I really like you (Y/N)! You're smart and funny and awesome! and really cute..."

🏈 You never saw him so genuine, something in the way he sat so curtly, avoiding eye-contact with you, you knew he wasn't lying.

🏈 Your glare softened and a smile starts appearing on your face. You scoot nearer to him to ruffle his hair before pulling his head towards you for a kiss.

🏈 He melted into the kiss, putting a hand on your cheek, deepening the kiss.

🏈 You suddenly grab a chuck of his hair, pulling his head back. "If I find out this is all a joke, your ass is grass you hear me?"

🏈 b o n e r

3K notes · View notes

spiderlandry · 24 days

Text

Secrets Kept — Ethan Landry

in which you have a secret, and it’s not what ethan thinks.

Pairing: Ethan Landry x Spider-Woman!Reader (she/her pronouns used)

Warnings: minor gunshot wound, kind of escalates quickly?, mention of reader having no family (other than aunt may), slight angst, fluff, no ghostface (previous movies can still be canon i think), somewhat dialogue-heavy, mentions of Across the Spider-Verse events

Word Count: ~9k

Author’s Note: hey everyone, i do wanna apologize for promising to come back and then just. not. so im sorry for that! i have had some health/life troubles recently and long story short i won’t be releasing anymore fics after this. (i am not dying, dont worry, my energy just isnt the same). i also realized i just do not feel as passionate about writing as i used to. thank you for sticking with me, and i will keep all my fics up. for unfinished series i’ve written, anyone is free to write continuations if you wish. thank u so much again for making me feel so welcome here!!! feel free to talk to me in my inbox as i’ll be checking in periodically. and if there’s any interest, i’m willing to post unedited wips.

i guess i've come full circle because this fic was the reason i created this blog. it was unfinished so i never did post it, but i finally got some energy to do it! so enjoy (hopefully)

New York had been your home for a long time. All your life, actually. But sometimes, the rowdy, noisy city was suffocating.

However, swinging through the city, air resisting against your skin as you picked up speed—lifted the weight off your shoulders.

You changed in a secluded alley on the outskirts of the busyness in the big apple, not risking any neighbours seeing you go into the window of your apartment. The subway was crowded as it is all hours of the day, though you didn’t mind too much.

Closing the door behind you, you dropped your bag on the couch and looked for your roommate. “Quinn?” Your voice travelled throughout the place, bringing your roommate to her feet and outside her room.

“Hey, d’you just get back?” She smiled, leaning against the end of the hallway. “How was patrol?”

You sighed, opening the zipper of your backpack to pull out the bagel you got for her. “Yeah, it was alright. Nothing exciting.” you threw it to her, and she almost dropped it. “Got you a bagel. Thanks for covering for me.”

She scoffed in mock offence, “What did I say about throwing things? I don’t have your spider sensor, or whatever. But this is appreciated.” She took a bite, and you laughed at her remark about the spider-sense.

“Noted, sorry again.” You returned her grin. You knew she loved being in on the secret. She took joy in knowing the real identity of the masked vigilante, often covering for you around your friends when you had to leave very suddenly during movie nights and hangouts. But above all, she was a concerned friend. Always. Patched you up when you came home late at night, warned you when you were about to make a bad decision, told you to be careful before you left.

You often told yourself not to get too close. Making connections as a vigilante wasn’t ideal. Anybody who knew your identity was in danger at all times, and it didn’t help that you had a huge crush on her brother. You never uttered a word to her, but you could sense her observing you when you hung out with the friend group—not in a spidey-sense way, though, you could just feel it, even without the supernatural sense.

“Anything interesting happen while I was gone?” You asked, flopping down on the couch and turning on the tv, avoiding the news channels.

“Ethan missed you. It was kinda gross, actually. Wouldn’t stop asking where you were.” She grabbed a drink from the kitchen, disappearing from view.

You furrowed your brows, “You know I never believe you whenever you say anything about Ethan, right? Especially concerning me.”

“Not my problem, spidey. I never lie.”

“I could give you ten examples,” you chuckled.

“I never lie to you. Obviously I lie to everybody else.” She came back from the kitchen with a look.

“Is it because I’m special?”

“Obviously.”

You weren’t the nervous type. Maybe it was after you were bitten by the spider, you never really knew, but one of the main reasons Ethan may not have realized you have any semblance of feelings for him was because you acted normal around him like you did everybody else. Your schedules were different, so you rarely hung out with him for school reasons, meaning the only times he spent time with you was during group hangouts.

Including now. At his and Chad’s tiny off campus apartment.

He watched you play chess with Anika, Chad watching from the sidelines during a blitz game. Speed chess. He knew how to play chess. Maybe he should play with you, a thought grazed his mind.

As if his sister could read him, she appeared beside him and nudged him closer to the scene. “You should play.”

He looked at her with shock, “No, I’ll lose. I don’t wanna embarrass myself.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Since when has that stopped you? You never back down from a chess match, remember?” He did remember, years ago when his father taught him after Richie left for college. “It’s because you like her, isn’t it?”

He huffed. To try and prove her wrong, he went over to the coffee table and watched as you lost to Anika—maybe he has a chance.

It was his turn, now. He replaced Anika on the seat facing you, rearranging the chess pieces. “Pretty boy wants to play!” Chad exclaimed.

“Chad.” Ethan said in an almost warning tone. “What did I say about the nickname?”

You reset the chess clock. He looked at you—you were smirking—which was a mistake, because he didn’t realize you started his clock.

“Shit,” he moved a piece, fumbling. You grinned at him, and he realized he’ll do anything to see it again.

You didn’t lose your confidence, moving chess pieces to counteract his own moves.

During the middle game was when it dawned on him he was fucked.

It became clear to him you likely knew how to psych him out—just by smiling at him.

Little did he know, you smiled at him because his thinking face was adorable. But on his side, you were smiling every time he glanced at you. He had no other choice but to believe you were doing it to make him blunder, because he couldn’t make you usually smile like that, could he?

Quinn watched her brother fumble around you. Her plan worked. At least for tonight.

You ended up winning the game with ten seconds left on your clock and three on his.

You high-fived Chad, much to Ethan’s dismay, but you offered a handshake to his direction which he gladly accepted to feel your warm palm in his. Worth it.

He was mustering up to ask for a rematch when your phone buzzed on the counter, which Quinn reached to get before anyone could in case it was something spider related. And thank god she did, because it was. She gave you a nod, reading the notification about something happening downtown. You cringed internally, knowing the burden of covering for you would fall on your friend’s shoulders again. She packed your things and handed you the backpack, whispering ‘be safe’ as you take it from her, so nobody else would hear.

With a closing of the door behind you, a conversation in the room began, thanks to a suspecting Mindy.

“Why does she leave sometimes?” The woman looked to the strawberry blonde for an answer, suspecting that she knew more than she let on. “She never tells us.” They all settled on the couch as Chad flicked through streaming services for a movie and Ethan cleaned up the chessboard. He didn’t wanna seem to interested, but he was definitely actively listening for Quinn’s answer.

“Her aunt calls her sometimes to run some errands,” Quinn prayed they wouldn’t pry. She saw this coming because you’d been dealing with more calls recently and patrolling more often. There really was no other excuse for the spontaneous leaving. It was easier to cover if you were already not there—you’d be studying, grocery shopping, napping, or literally anything else.

“Aunt May?” Ethan piped up. You mentioned her once, saying you needed to get eggs for her.

“Yeah, Aunt May.”

“She never talks about her family.” Said Anika.

Quinn didn’t want to say anything else. “She’s just private, I think.”

“You know more about her than us, though.”

“Because I’m her roommate.”

Mindy’s eyes squint toward her. Tilting her head, she pursed her lips. “I think you’re lying.”

“Why would I be?”

“She’s left before, at like, one AM. Why would her aunt call her at that time?”

Quinn shrugged, feeling a little bit of panic setting in. “Who knows?”

“Is she hiding something?”

“No.” The word was so quick and curt, and that was when she knew she fucked up.

“You’re definitely lying.”

Everyone else, watching the interaction turning from teasing to tense, Sam stepped in. “Guys,” she interrupted. “If Y/N wants to tell us something, she would. I’m sure she has her reasons.”

Mindy had been suspicious for a long time. Not out of malice, she liked to think she had a naturally curious personality. She’d kept an eye on you every time you left, half because she wanted to know, but also because she was worried. Had you not been friends for long enough that you couldn’t tell them why you left or was sometimes missing?

Ethan thought similar.

It got weirder when he saw a glimpse of your name on Quinn’s phone, a call from you that she answered. She went to the kitchen to answer it. Mindy saw it too.

Ethan wasn’t proud of it, but he followed, to stay right behind the threshold of the kitchen and the cold tiled floor, listening to the conversation.

The audio from your end was inaudible, but Quinn’s responses were: “Yeah?” … “How bad is it?” … “No, I’ll be there.” … “Who cares if they get suspicious? You’re more important.”

He heard the call end and rushed back to his seat, to Quinn’s obliviousness. She grabbed her things.

“I’m tired, guys.” She announced to the group, Tara pausing the movie. “I’m gonna go home.”

“Oh,” Sam replied. “Well, be careful. Do you have your pepper spray?”

“Yes, Sam.” Quinn almost rolled her eyes at Sam’s protectiveness, but she knew it was out of real worry.

After his sister left, Ethan began the conversation this time. “I think Mindy’s right.”

Everyone turned to him.

“Quinn was talking to Y/N.”

Tara sat up. “You followed her to eavesdrop?”

Ethan shrugged, feeling scolded.

“Not cool, dude.”

“What did she say?” Sam asked curiously, now hooked. If Ethan mentioned it, it must have been important.

“Like…” A pause, “Q asked ‘how bad is it?’ then said she’ll be there. And then, like, who cares if they get suspicious.”

“They’re definitely hiding something,” Mindy stated. “But why?”

“My sister never hides anything from me. She always overshares, and I always hated it. But now she’s not. It’s probably not…good.”

“Are we sure we should talk about this?” Anika piped up next to Mindy. “Maybe it’s a problem with their apartment—a leak, or something.”

“But…” Chad spoke, “what about the suspicious part? And why would Quinn lie?”

At the same time, at your and Quinn’s apartment, you bled out on a towel placed on the couch from a gash across your stomach. You winced as your friend applied the bandage.

“Didn’t I tell you to be safe? What happened? You had a good streak going there for a while.”

“Quinn, please.”

“Also, not to alarm you, but they’re getting really suspicious. Mindy asked why you leave all the time.”

“Shit, she’s never asked that.” Your head fell against the end of the couch in defeat. “Maybe I should start distancing myself.”

Quinn’s head snapped up. “You’re not serious.”

“Dead serious.”

“Don’t make me say it.”

“Say what?” You looked at her.

“It’s a really bad idea.”

“I’m trying to keep people safe. Keep you safe. Keep everyone else in the group safe.”

“What about Ethan?”

“Including him.”

“No—“ She scoffs, “I mean, you’d…break his heart.”

You had to stop yourself from laughing. “Quinn,”

“I’m serious.” And she actually was. She might have thought her brother was a nerdy asshole. But he was her brother. “And everyone would wonder where you are. You can’t avoid them forever.”

Sitting atop a random apartment building Monday morning, your sight helped you catch a glimpse of Ethan walking amongst a crowd of New Yorkers, bumping into people with a hand on the backpack strap on his shoulder. It had been a week since you talked to Quinn about possibly leaving the group.

After that, you stopped answering messages from them, much to her dismay. She still saw you at the apartment, looking at you with silent eyes hoping you’d realize your mistake and come around again. She knew you would.

Having everybody’s schedules memorized helped you avoid them—but Anika having the same major as you was your downfall. You skipped a class yesterday, and she texted the groupchat asking where you were.

Maybe it was creepy, but keeping an eye on your friends calmed you down. You wanted to be the one to make sure they were safe without having them try to do the same thing—this was why you never wanted to get close.

Unbeknownst to you, the group had a bet going.

Mindy thought you and Quinn were dating. Ethan thought something was up in your family life, maybe Aunt May was sick. Chad thought you were in a secret fight club (secretly worried). Anika was on board with Mindy’s theory. Sam refused to answer, and Tara was also silent.

Quinn came to your room that night. “Everybody’s worried about you.”

You looked at her with begging eyes. “I know, Quinn.” You sighed in defeat. “I don’t know what to do anymore.”

“Either you tell them or not. Your choice. But you can’t avoid it forever. Everyone’s been giving you space, but they’re still thinking you’ll come around.”

You stared at her, them looked away, at anything else.

“One more thing—“ she said before she left, “don’t patrol tonight.”

“Why not?”

“I’m gonna be over at Isaac’s place. If you get hurt, I won’t be there. He thinks I’m cheating on him whenever I bail.”

You would never ask her to give up a part of her life for you, she knew you would agree. But she also knew you would never miss patrol.

“Fine, I won’t.”

She left knowing you would.

You should have listened. God, you should have listened.

Your wound from a few days ago had already healed thanks to your abilities, but another power you had was how many times you got injured in a short amount of time. Especially in the same spot. This time it was a real stab wound on your side, not just a gash a centimetre deep.

You couldn’t let yourself bleed out on the alley to be found dead and your friends to find out your identity through a news announcement that Spider-Woman was dead. You were about to swing back to your apartment—

Shit.

You didn’t have your civilian clothes. The window on the fire escape was locked. Your door was locked. Nobody was home. Idiot!

One choice. You forced your feelings down, hoping this was for the best.

Ethan and Chad’s were the closest.

With your heart pounding in your ears, holding it together and covering your wound, you knocked on the glass.

Chad came out of the hallway to furious sounding knocking on the window, thinking maybe a madman managed to climb up the fire escape and was trying to break in.

He certainly wasn’t expecting the masked vigilante of New York City to be the one on the other side of the glass. And she looked to be bleeding.

You were thankful it was Chad who answered and not Ethan. He coincidentally had Econ tonight, so that was actually a plus.

Chad opened the window. “Holy shit!”

“Look—“ You were breathing rapidly, unable to keep it together. “I’m sorry about this—“ You tried to change your voice hoping your friend wouldn’t recognize it.

“I’m gonna carry you now, okay?” He put an arm behind your back and another under your knees, trying to avoid touching the wound. “What the fuck?” You heard him whisper as he set you down on the couch.

He rushed to the bathroom for the med kit. “You’re lucky I have this,” He set it down on the floor, rummaging through it. “I play college football, I mainly have it for sprains. I never used the suture kit, but hey, first time for everything, right?” He rambled. Just as Chad does when he was nervous, also evident in the tremble of his voice.

“I heal pretty quickly, I just need stitches to stop it from bleeding.”

“Thank God. I don’t know how to operate on organs. What if you have internal bleeding?”

“Won’t matter. I’ll heal. I’d never let you touch my organs.” You joked.

“Glad to know Spider-Woman’s funny.”

You were careful not to call him by name on instinct. “What should I call you?”

“Your saviour.” He got the tools ready, “Kidding. I’m Chad.”

“‘Kay, Chad. Need me to walk you through it?”

“Yes—yes, that would be good, actually. You have medical experience?”

“If you call getting injured experience, yes.”

“This is gonna be a long night.”

Tara did not believe her boyfriend.

She was at his apartment, sitting on his bed, and he was pacing and rambling about Spider-Woman coming to this very place last night and asked the vigilante to save her. She stared at him crazy.

“Babe, you have to believe me!” He jumped up excitedly, he couldn’t keep it in.

“You didn’t get any proof?”

“She was bleeding! I stitched her up! Not really a great time to ask for an autograph or a picture.”

She smiled at him endearingly. “I wanna believe you, so, so bad.”

He came closer to her, “Please do.”

“She just happened to come here when Ethan was away?”

“Yes.”

She laughed, falling back on the bed.

“Please, babe!”

With good timing, a knock on the door took them away from the moment.

Tara went to get it, Chad on her tail.

And surprise.

It was Spider-Woman at the door.

You never intended on showing up, but the guilt consumed you and your feet brought you to a bakery and you’d purchased a dozen cupcakes before you knew it. You wanted to leave them at his door, but not trusting his neighbours, you decided to hand them over.

He wasn’t alone. You should have expected Tara. It was afternoon, and Ethan had a class early morning (why he picked it that early, you’ll never get.)

Tara’s eyes widened at the sight, immediately turning back to her boyfriend stopping him in his tracks. “Is this a prank?” She pointed a finger up at him.

Him not knowing who’s at the door, “What? Who’s at the door?” He walked past her and was equally shocked.

You lowered your voice again. “Uh,” you cleared your throat, “thanks for saving me last night.” You handed over the box of cupcakes.

“Are you joking?” Tara went to lift your mask, but you backed away. “Who are you?”

“Not a prank, promise!” You exclaimed. “This is…actually…me. Just wanted to say thanks. If not for him, I would have bled out.”

“Prove it.”

“Prove what?”

“You’re her.”

At that, you shot a web to the ceiling.

“Shit,”

“I wasn’t lying, babe.” You heard Chad whisper to her. And directed at you, “Glad I could help, spider. Come back anytime!” Tara playfully slapped him on the shoulder as you walked away.

“I’ll keep that in mind!”

You still hadn’t told Quinn about what happened last night. That was because you hadn’t seen her anywhere. She must have slept in at her boyfriend(?)’s place.

As you got home, your phone buzzed.

Bruno Mars Security Team

Chad

everyone !!!!!!!! please come over tonight !!!!!!! i have to tell you all something !!!!!!! im spiderwomans best friend now

Tara

well…

Sam

???

Quinn

Oh god

Ethan

What lol

Then, a personal message notification from Quinn.

Quinn

Wtf happened while I was gone you have to tell me

You

I HAD NO CHOICE

Quinn

Please actually come over to Chad’s. We all miss you even tho its only a few days like we’re all worried

You

i will

Chad had never been happier to see you. “You’re here! And you’re early!” He opened his arms for a hug, which you took. “I missed you!” You’d always been a little sister to him, despite being a few months apart, it mattered to him.

“Sorry I’ve been MIA,” You sighed, pulling away. “Just—dealing with stuff,” you cleared your throat.

Just then, Tara appeared and ran into your arms. You squeezed her tight, knowing she gave the best kinds of hugs. Her arms wrapped around your neck, head resting against your shoulder, fitting like a puzzle piece. “Talk to us anytime, okay?”

You nodded, ending the hug and closing the door behind you.

“What’s this about Spider-Woman?” You inquired, grabbing a drink from the fridge.

“I have to wait until everyone gets here, you guys are gonna freak! And Tara is here to back me up.”

“Is that all I’m here for?” Tara teased.

“No, honey, you know it’s also because we’re using your Netflix login.”

You laughed at their antics as she flicked him on the forehead lightly.

Ethan happened to catch you right at that moment as he came out of the bathroom.

He was silent, but shot you a smile nonetheless, which you mirrored. He really did not know what to say. A feeling bubbled up inside him and he knew he wanted to talk to you alone.

You took your place at the very end of the couch, checking something on your phone as you waited for the others to get here. Unbeknownst to you, though, Ethan was looking at you trying to decide whether it was the right time to talk. Chad and Tara were whispering to themselves, betting on if he would actually say anything.

After a few seconds, your senses told you somebody was staring. Not in a dangerous way, or even remotely alarming, but you could still feel it. So you turned your head upward and saw the curly haired boy a standing awkwardly a few feet from you.

“What’re you doing?” You smirked, though not really in a smug way. It was more amusement than anything.

“Uh—nothing, I just—“ He wandered closer, sitting a few centimetres away from you. “I—we, the group, want you to know that we’re always here if you need anything. You can talk to us, alright? You don’t—just don’t deal with it alone.” He shrugged, “That’s it.”

Your face softened at his confession. Only if you could tell them without compromising their safety. “Thanks. I’ll…keep you posted.”

Ethan didn’t know what to do now that the conversation was seemingly over.

He was about to stand up until the door swung open, Quinn coming in along with Mindy and Anika who were carrying a few boxes of pizza.

“We’re here! And we brought food!” Mindy’s voice echoed throughout the apartment.

You were going to greet them but Anika beat you to it, seeing you on the couch and running over to hug you.

Mindy did the same, relieved to see you okay.

Quinn had a knowing smile on her face.

After the room settled down, Chad began to finally tell the story.

Needless to say, nobody believed him.

By the end of the night, long past midnight, you were getting ready to leave when Ethan asked you something.

“Are you going with Quinn?”

Mindy and Anika were waiting at the door, they both got a ride from your roommate since Mindy’s car broke down a few days ago.

“No, uhm—I think I’m gonna walk home. It’s only a few blocks.”

Quinn, upon hearing you, chimed in. “Really? You sure you don’t want to?”

“Yeah, I’ll be fine.” You shared a look with her that only the two of you knew. You turned to Ethan, “Why?”

“Can I walk you?”

You were surprised, to say the least. “Really?”

“So you’re safe.”

Preparing to protest, you felt Quinn’s hand on your arm. “Let him.”

So you did.

The walk home was brisk. The streets were empty, the street lamps illuminating your synchronized steps with Ethan.

With him, silence was never awkward. It was just…quiet.

It was no secret that you were perceptive, especially to your friends. Quinn knew why, but the others thought it was just you, not something caused by the spider bite. Your senses were especially heightened around Ethan.

You would never mention it, but you knew his heartbeat sped up when he got close to you. You only caught it a few times on accident trying to listen for something else, but you’d never actually do it on purpose.

Lately it seemed he was spending more time with you since the night you came back (which was three weeks ago at this point). One, he would message you on Discord asking if you wanted to do a study call—you never failed to say yes (making Ethan giddy). Two, he began to ask you things about your life during those calls when you would both take a break from studying. Like he wanted to know more about you.

Three, you began to spend time together outside the group.

Quinn was excited for you the first time you told her that you were going to see Ethan and only him. Of course, you told her not to read into it, but when has she ever listened?

Things were going fairly well. Especially with New York as a whole, nothing too major had happened (no supervillains, thank god), only a few robberies and cats stuck in a tree.

You were sitting atop a building when a tingling sensation in the back of your neck alerted you to something. Then, as you honed your hearing, you heard glass breaking a block away.

Swinging never got old.

As you reached your destination, a small bodega being robbed, you spotted him. Ethan.

Your heart began to pound in your ears, watching from the outside as the robber trained the gun on his hostages inside the bodega, one of them being Ethan.

It was like muscle memory. Go in, threaten the robber, and if it escalated, you fought him.

“I’m going to get rid of you, Spider-Woman!” The man in the mask hissed at you, his pistol trained right at your heart. This part didn’t scare you anymore, but Ethan being here—did. “If you come any closer…” He stepped away, instead pointing the gun at some old lady, who looked scared shitless. “I’ll shoot her!” He noticed you weren’t fazed at threats against you, so he targeted the next best thing: civilians.

“Easy, there, cowboy. Why don’t you point that gun at me? I thought you wanted to get rid of me.” You tilted your head, gauging the severity of the situation.

In your peripheral vision, Ethan stepped in front of the lady, trying to usher her to the side.

God, he was an idiot—but you’d be lying if you said that didn’t warm your heart.

The robber didn’t notice because he was still staring at you, watching for any sudden movements you’d make.

It happened in three seconds.

One, you shot the web to the gun, trying to pull it back to you.

Two, the gun went off—a slip of his finger caused by your web. Before you saw who it hit, the man came at you.

Three, you took him down, knocking him out.

It was the next second that you decided your life wouldn’t be the same.

You heard a hiss, a gasp from onlookers, and you took away the magazine of the gun before your head snapped up to where the hiss came from.

Ethan.

Red was the first thing you saw. It was on that yellow cardigan he wore when it was chilly—You rushed to his side, seeing the red come from his arm. He was backed up, leaning against the wall.

He was wide-eyed, face scrunched up in pain. “Shit,” He put pressure on his wound. “It hurt less than I thought it would.”

If only he could see how the tears lined your eyes under the mask.

“We need—“ You tried to keep your voice steady— “We need to get you to a hospital.”

“I’m fine,” He hissed again as you pressed harder on his arm. “It’s just a graze.” He saw your concern.

“No—It could’ve—it could’ve hit something vital—“ Despite your knowledge that it likely didn’t, your head was spinning and rational thought weren’t exactly on the table.

The sirens reached your ears before anyone else’s.

You took a deep breath. Your head cleared.

“The ambulance is gonna get here soon, uh—“ You cleared your throat. “Don’t move, okay?” You nodded to him, and left.

Okay, you didn’t actually leave. You stayed on a rooftop across the street, a few buildings over, seeing that he was okay as he got checked out by the paramedics.

That was when you actually left. For good this time.

The timing was almost perfect—the next day, an old friend came to see you.

You weren’t expecting anybody, hanging out in an abandoned building you found in the outskirts of Brooklyn when you were a teenager.

But a black hole opened up right next to you. Maybe not a black hole, but the closest thing to it.

That was when you saw Miguel O’Hara.

Quinn had no idea that, when she woke up that morning, it would be the week she spilled your secret to the friend group.

This is how it went down.

Last evening, she told you to be careful before you left for patrol. You never came back in the morning. She didn’t see any evidence of you being there, like your shoes haphazardly thrown across the floor near the front door, or your backpack on the couch. This had happened once before and she found out you were at your Aunt May’s house—so she just sent you a text and went on with her day.

It was also the day Ethan called her and told her that he was shot. Then he texted the groupchat about what happened and they all (including Quinn) rushed over to his and Chad’s apartment to see in person that he was actually okay. A bit of a freaky situation that Ethan was caught up in that, but everyone calmed down eventually. But when Ethan told the story, Quinn hoped your disappearance had nothing to do with his getting hurt. She also noticed that he was bummed about you not being there.

It was the second day she got worried. No sign of you. Nothing on the news about Spider-Woman, either.

Bruno Mars Security Team GC

Quinn

Anybody heard from Y/N?

Chad

aren’t you her roommate

Quinn

Hasn’t been home since Saturday.

Ethan

She hasnt answered any of my texts

Chad

okay now i’m worried

tara? mindy? anika? sam?

Mindy

nope. anika says no too

Sam

Not me or Tara. I’ll try calling her

She didn’t answer

Ethan

Quinn do u know where she’d go? maybe to a family member?

Quinn

I dont know her aunt mays address

Chad

let’s wait a day to see if she turns up. if not then we’ll get together to brainstorm

You weren’t there the next day, so everyone gathered at yours and Quinn’s apartment to see what could’ve happened to you.

They all stood around the kitchen island.

“Has everybody called her?” Chad said, arms crossed. “Texting her and everything?”

Everyone nodded.

“Quinn,” Tara began. “Have you checked her room?”

She looked down, almost ashamed. “I did, actually. Nothing.”

“Do you think we should…check again? Maybe we’ll find something.”

“I’m good at snooping, if you need.” Anika added.

Quinn’s eyes slightly widened, “No!” Calming down, “I mean—no. She doesn’t like other people going through her stuff. I can because I’m her roommate—not you guys.” At times of stress, this was the best she could come up with.

“Okay…” Mindy’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. “How about an address to Aunt May’s place? Do you think we could find that somewhere?”

The realization dawned upon her—no way of getting to you. “No. But she would’ve told me if she was going there.”

“Look, Quinn.” Mindy sighed, “Can you just—be honest with us?”

The ginger nodded.

“What was the last thing she said to you?”

“I—she was going out to buy something.”

Ethan’s nostrils flared—he knew when his sister was lying. Why was she so adamant to hide your whereabouts, even if it meant you were in danger? He sighed.

“I’ve—“ Everyone’s heads snapped to Ethan at his interruption. “I’ve had enough of it, Quinn. What the fuck are you two hiding? Seriously.”

Safe to say there was nobody in that kitchen who wasn’t surprised at his sudden outburst. He didn’t care, though.

“You always fucking lie, Quinn. I can tell. Why don’t you think I can tell? She goes missing, and you’re still keeping a secret!”

Chad put a hand on his shoulder, “Dude.”

The boy took a deep breath, reminding himself where he was. “Sorry. For shouting, I mean. But you can’t just—ask us to look for her when we all know damn well that you know something we don’t.”

At that moment, she had two choices. She thought for a long moment before she couldn’t find a rational explanation as to why she shouldn’t tell them that you’re Spider-Woman—you could be dead by now.

She walked away, hearing Mindy say “Are you fucking serious?” right behind her.

They didn’t have to wait for long, because Quinn came back from your room with something in her hand. They examined the object as she threw it onto the counter.

It was a mask—Spider-Woman’s mask.

“Holy shit,” Sam was the first to say.

“Wanna know the secret?” Quinn crossed her arms. “There’s your fucking secret.” She directed it at Ethan, whose mouth was slightly open.

She took a deep breath, a similar trait to her brothers to calm herself down. “The night she left, she told me she was going on patrol. When she didn’t come back the next morning I thought she was fine. Now it’s the third day, nothing from her. Look—I might’ve—like, fucked up. I don’t know.”

“How?” Asked Mindy.

“I should’ve told you sooner.”

It was clear to them that Quinn must have had this weight on her shoulders for so long.

“I have…so many questions.” Said Chad. “So when…Spider-Woman came to my apartment, that was Y/N?” He grabbed the mask, analyzing it with his hands.

“Why do you think she came to yours? She knows you have that stupid med bag with the unused suture kit.”

“Is that why she always left?”

“Mhm.” She nodded. “I thought—things were getting better. She was getting close to us again, stopped patrolling some nights because of my brother’s stupid discord calls.”

Ethan was breathless. “What?”

“Look—point is: she didn’t want to put anybody in danger. If I didn’t find out by accident, she never would have told me. She just…cares about you guys too much. She thinks if you know she’s Spider-Woman, you’d be in danger.”

When Ethan came face to face with Spider-Woman in the bodega, it was you. That was your concern, practically radiating off of you in waves. He knew you seemed familiar, somehow. But everybody knew Spider-Woman. He knew you differently. You saved his life.

Everybody was taken aback by the news. But Sam, ever the leader, began. “She’s been protecting us this whole time. All of us. It’s time we have to do the same for her.”

“How?”

“We find her. In any way possible, even if it means we have to track down her entire family, go back to her high school friends, anything we can think of, okay?”

There was no doubt in anyone else’s mind that they were all on board with the plan.

“Let’s do it.”

ONE WEEK LATER

It was the first night in a week that Ethan got proper sleep. The exhaustion finally caught up to his body after countless sleepless nights spent poring over clues on how to find you. He’d been making progress on the Oscorp lead when the last thing he remembered was slumping over at his desk.

Which was why it was weird when he opened his eyes, he saw the ceiling. He was laying down in the comfort of his own bed. Maybe he actually went to bed and didn’t realize it. The sunlight peeking through the curtains was probably a sign to get up, get back on the investigation.

That was until he sat up and saw a figure at his desk, standing over some of the files he sorted.

It took him a second to see it was you. Was he dreaming?

“You’re finally up.” He heard the voice come from you, and saw your mouth move, and as he processed your sweet voice and the teasing lilt to it, he almost fell off his bed jumping out to rush over to you.

He almost knocked you over as his (surprisingly) muscular arms wrapped around you in a quick second, you returning the hug with a smile he could feel on his neck. He was almost speechless. Almost.

Slightly pulling away, he got a good look at you, unharmed, grinning at him with the power of a million suns. He kept his arms around your waist, keeping you close as if he was afraid you’d disappear once more. Nonetheless, he mirrored your expression as he felt your breath on his face and your arms looping around his neck, running your hands through his soft curls.

“You’re…here. You’re actually here.”

Your soft hand came to rest against his chest, feeling his heartbeat along with hearing it.

“I’m sorry I left.”

The boy shook his head, “What matters is you came back. You always did.”

“I always will, Ethan.”

YESTERDAY

It was early morning and the feeling of defeat was strong in the room. Everyone was there at your and Quinn’s apartment all with one goal: to find you. They’d started this search almost a week ago with a determination in their eyes akin to a fight for survival, mainly because it kind of was. But as the days went on and the meetings at the house got longer to discuss other possibilities surrounding the circumstances of your disappearance, the metre to measure the disappointment was getting higher.

They all sat at the couch, flipping through the news channels, all talking about how Spider-Woman hasn’t been seen in over a week. It was an alarming wake up call for the city, because crime rates had gone up significantly without the friendly neighbourhood spider watching over the residents of the city that never sleeps.

The news anchors all echoed a similar message. Where is Spider-Woman? Many have theorized that this may be the end of an era—

Sam clicked the red button on the remote, the screen turning to black. “We can’t give up.”

“I didn’t wanna have to, but—“ Tara sighed, “We said if we can’t come up with anything, we’d get the police involved.”

Chad slumped right next to her. “What are we supposed to tell them? Hey, our friend’s been missing for a week and we’re just now reporting it. And FYI, she’s the vigilante who does your job for you.”

“Not like that.”

“But we can’t tell them she’s her, right? If they find her, she’d be arrested.”

“If they find her alive, that is.” Mindy added grimly, looking at the ground.

“Dude, come on.” Her brother tapped her arm.

“I’m just saying.”

“Quinn, Ethan.” Tara refocused the conversation, “Your guys’ dad is a cop, right?”

They looked at each other before nodding.

“Can you talk to him? You don’t have to tell him anything just—find out if anything happened lately, okay? Anything new.”

Anika added, “We’re not even on the week mark. It’s tomorrow. How about we focus on our leads today, then meet again tomorrow. If there’s really nothing, we’ll go to the police, okay?”

“That sounds good.” Ethan agreed.

“Alright,” Sam exhaled. “Dismissed.”

Everyone was sleepless that night. There was the obvious tell of the bags under everyone’s eyes growing bigger, not to mention the slouching and the less than ideal attention span they had lately.

Quinn’s eyes were wide open in the dark of room, wondering and hoping you weren’t dead in some back alley somewhere.

A sound in the living room broke her out of a dazed stupor. It wasn’t too loud, but not subtle, either.

On edge, her hand shot to grab the bat right next to her bed, a gift you’d given her for self defense purposes. She was careful not to make any sound, clearly unlike this moron who was breaking into her house on the middle of the night with heavy steps.

The fridge was open, the door hiding the figure of the person behind it.

She was ready to swing—

You. The figure closed the fridge door and it was you in your suit.

Maybe it was the lack of food that caused you not to notice her presence immediately, but you heard the clacks of the wooden bat hitting the floors before you clocked your roommate fully embracing you in a bear hug.

“Quinn!” You chuckled, returning the embrace. “Missed you too.”

She pulled away abruptly after a second, a stern look on her face but a layer of worry in her eyes. “Where the hell have you been?” She grabbed your shoulders and pushed back a little, looking over your entire body, checking for injuries—but you were clean. Not even a scratch. “Shit, you’re okay.”

“I—“

She hugged you again.

That was when you realized why she reacted like this. “How long have I been gone?”

She looked at you like you were crazy. “You’ve been gone a whole week.”

“Shit. I didn’t leave a note, did I?”

The guilt on your face was apparent, but it was nothing compared to the stress everyone had gone through while you were away.

“You didn’t. All of us have been looking for you—“ Something dawned on her. “I…had to tell them.”

You didn’t react the way she expected. She expected you’d be upset—angry, even, but not this. Not you being the one to hug her this time, taking a deep breath.

During the embrace, you spoke, your voice vibrating on her shoulder as your head rested against it.

“It was so stressful, out there. I have so many things to say. But I’m so tired—I wanna explain everything later.” You sighed, “How’s Ethan?”

“He’s okay. I’ll drive you to his place tomorrow, okay?”

Mindy, Chad, Tara, Anika, and Sam all woke up in their respective apartments to a text message in the group chat.

Quinn

Can we all meet at Chad’s place today? In a few minutes. Urgent!!!

After the conversation yesterday, they all expected the worst. Maybe Quinn had gotten information from her cop dad that Spider-Woman was found dead—they were all thiniing it. Ethan, however, having been up until late, was still sound asleep, phone on silent mode.

They met at the front door of the apartment building (of course, except for Chad, who was in his bedroom staring at the text in worry), Sam looking among the group to reassure them. “Guys,” She sighed. “Maybe if’s not bad news.”

Mindy turned to her. “Really?” She sounded exhausted, almost ready to give up.

“If Quinn had really bad news, she would’ve called us. Probably, right?” Tara backed her sister up.

“Let’s just…go in. She’s probably not even here yet.”

Just then, the sound of a car approaching quickly caught their attention—Quinn’s car.

Tara was at the end of the group, giving her the advantage of seeing first who was in the passenger seat of the car, getting out.

“Y/N!” She yelled.

The rest of them turned, almost running to the middle of the street as you closed the car door, leaving Quinn to find parking. You ran to the sidewalk, running into Tara’s arms.

You could feel the warmth radiating from the group as they welcomed you back with open arms, feeling guilty that you must have made them worry for them to react like this. Knowing some of their history with the murders in Woodsboro, it must’ve been terrifying for them to think they could’ve lost another friend.

It wasn’t long until you felt the missing piece, a hole amongst them that resembled a shape in your heart: Ethan.

“Where’s Ethan?” You tried not to show panic, but it was likely obvious due to Anika immediately reassuring you.

“He’s okay! He’s fine—he’s just sleeping.”

You sighed, relief taking over. “He doesn’t usually sleep in this late.”

“He was up late last night, he said he got a good lead on you. He…” She contemplated for a moment, not wanting to worry you. “He took it pretty hard when you dropped off.”

Tara almost slapped her arm. “Yeah,” she looked to you, watching carefully for any signs of panic. “He was worried. Probably more than any of us. But you can wake him up.”

“Do you…Can you tell us what happened? Where were you?” Mindy was reluctant to ask in case it was difficult for you.

But you were happy to tell them—you figured you owed them that much after having them think you were dead for a week. “I’ll tell you inside, come on.”

Pizza and drinks were being passed around, everyone was here, and you chose to sit right beside Ethan. He couldn’t stop looking at you. You could feel it.

As you animatedly told the story of meeting other people who also had spider powers, had similar stories, Ethan then began to wonder what would be next. Would you stay? What if you wanted to go back there, be with people who really, truly understand you?

By the end of the night, the group was preparing for the sleepover. But you could tell something was troubling Ethan. You studied him from the couch while the crew was gathering pillows, and he caught your eye and said, “Wanna go to the rooftop?”

You tilted your head on instinct, confused.

“You know…good air.” He shrugged.

“Sure.”

The walk up was silent. Maybe more than silent, if that were even possible.

As he opened the door to the rooftop, you made eye contact for half a second. And in that half second, Ethan decided he won’t lose you. In that half second, you looked away, then looked up again—and he gently grabbed your wrist, pulling you close enough that you felt his breath on mingling with yours, so close that you thought he was going to kiss you. But he began to speak.

“Can I—”

And you kissed him.

It was a small one, but when you tilted your head to lean in closer and tangled your hands behind his neck—Christ.

You pulled away abruptly and he wondered if he had done something wrong. At the same time he said “Holy shit,” you asked, “Wait, that’s what you were going to ask, right?”

Once his brain recovered, he finally nodded, “Yeah. You beat me to it.”

After a pause, he began again. “Does this mean you won’t leave?”

“Leave? Who said that?”

“Well, I just thought—”

“You’re an idiot, Ethan Landry. Come here.”

Additional Author’s Note: I apologize that Ethan and Reader do not have as many moments in this. Thank you for understanding. Again, if there’s enough interest, here’s a list of fic titles I’d be able to post wips of (keep in mind these are unfinished, you’re allowed to write continuations but my one wish before leaving this site is that my work is not fed into any kind of AI and that includes character ai):

blackout (2k)

dialogue (2k ish)

the dress (900)

rain (1k)

story beats for murder party part 2 (3.2k, jot notes)

reflections (2k)

the bear au (500 ish)

thief (800)

like a fool, im thinking of you (500)

avatar:

hard to love (2k, lo’ak)

sorry for any mistakes i didnt catch during editing !

#ethan landry x reader #ethan landry #scream 6 #scream 6 x reader #scream vi

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veersnz · 3 months

Text

News of a new Beginning

I am beyond exhausted right now but I wanted at least try and write something tonight. And where do I even begin… I’m overwhelmed by emotions right now, good ones I promise.

As today marks the day I finally graduated high-school. And some may wonder; « but Veer, you’re 22, how come you’re only graduating now ? »

The story is a little complicated but yes, I did start high-school just like everyone else my age over 8 years ago. 8 years ago was also when I started my recovery journey, and as with any journey, nothing is ever goes smoothly and to fulfill it I had to drop out of school. I tried my best over the years to go back and finish my education but I faced many challenges that made it nearly impossible. I managed to finish two of the three years of high-school over a period of 7 years between many hospital stays and periods of great difficulties. In my heart I knew I was getting too old to go back to high school, the gap between me and my peers was widening each year and with it grew the fear of going back, of feeling out of place, alone and crushed by the weight of my own expectations. I was raised believing my academic achievements made my worth and I’m sure many will relate to that, this fear of never being enough. So I almost made peace with never having the future I wished for. But truthfully, this future I had imagined for myself wasn’t mine, it was someone else’s dream. And I was left stranded on the shores of those wishes, not having the faintest idea of what my life would become. And I almost made peace with that.

I clung to those realizations until last September when I enrolled in this special needs school far away from my home. One last time, I thought, one more chance. I didn’t know what I wanted to do after that, if I even managed to stay until the end. But it didn’t matter, my family believed in me, so did my therapist and my friends, even after so many failed attempts they kept their faith intact. And this love, I think that’s what helped me make the decision.

So I took that leap of faith, got a small room and started living on my own for the first time while pursuing my education. I would lie if I said it was an easy ordeal, many obstacles came in my way and I almost gave up, many times. But with the help of my family, friends and the incredible people I met at this school I persevered. I am very aware of the incredible luck I had that September of 2023, being surrounded by so many loving and caring people. I couldn’t be more grateful. And you all count to, it may seem silly because this is « just a kink community » but I’ve met so many brave souls, incredible people and so much love even from afar. Having this positive presence in my life has brought me strength and respite sometimes from the outside world, even just for a moment sometimes. And for that I am eternally grateful.

And so after 11 months I am graduating with the highest honors and finally putting an end to this journey of 8 years. Of course the path to recovery will continue on, but I am turning to a new page of my life’s story and I couldn’t be happier and grateful. I’m still probably in shock and the realization will settle over me in the next few days. But today, today I know that I’ve reclaimed my future.

I know there will be many more challenges, uncertainty and pain to face but tonight I am basking in the happiness of having accomplished something my past self could only dream about. And I hope the parts of myself I left behind are proud of me.

Thank you ❤️

#This is very emotional and I will probably cringe tomorrow #but I wrote this with only happiness and gratefulness in my heart #so I think it will be okay #I think of all my friends who couldn't graduate #I did it for myself but also for them #and for my past self who doubted so much #not snz

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goblin-mask · 1 year

Text

TMNT x Bimbo Reader Head Cannons

This is my first headcannon ever I hope you enjoy and that I did it correctly! Request:

HELLO!! Can I request bimbo reader who has a crush on the turtles??(individually if that ok?) She’s a total airhead and always striving to pls them. It’s super obvious that she’s crushing because she’s follows after them like a puppy and practically grows wings whenever they praise or give her positive reinforcement. They 100% know she wants them but won’t do anything about it till she does. Out of spite or for entertainment… who knows😭 The boys basically forcing reader admit she has a crush on them. 🏃🏾‍♀️🏃🏾‍♀️🏃🏾‍♀️ (Ps: Mikey’s my fave!🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡

All Of Them:

They could tell you had a crush on them the moment you walked into the layer the second time

You brought Leo sharpening stones for his katanas

He had mentioned it only once before and you some how remembered

You memorized the periodic table for Donnie

Even making a stupid song to go with it

You memorized Mikey’s order for his favorite Pizza

You had gotten it wrong so many time you wrote it down and kept it in your wallet

You tried your best to work out with Raph

Lifting weights weren’t your forte

You were also terrible at hiding it

You went out of your way to touch them

You tripped or choked on air whenever one of them would walk by

You would try to understand the ninja lingo that the brothers shared

Even tried to get on Splinters good side

which he found amusing

Leonardo:

Leo knew you were going to confess to him after he had a bad day

You must have gotten a heads up from April because you bright skincare, and other things he has seen you do when he would visit

You attempted to make it as relaxing as possible but some things weren’t meant to be on Turtles skin

When Leo broke out into a rash you freaked out

You thought he was dying and ran to Donnie for immediate assistance

Leo had never seen you cry to this extent before

And yes you cried a lot

Leo had to spend an hour trying to console you and make you realize that he knew you didn’t do it on purpose

Through your sobs he could hear you say

“I just want to do nice things for you *Hic* Because I really like you!”

When you said that he smiled

“Don’t worry baby girl I like you as well.”

He has never seen you flip emotions like you did

One moment you were crying on the floor and the next moment you were in his lap and hugging him like your life depended on it

He made sure to hug you back just as tight to reassure you

“Thank you Leo!”

Leo only places a kiss in your hair

Raphael:

When you confessed to Raph it was completely out of the blue

He was lifting dumbbells when you jumped out and surprised him.

He ended up dropping it on his foot

You immediately tried to help only to hurt him further which he hid to the best of his ability

You just ended up handing him some wrist wrapping tape and a note with his name and a heart on it before bolting out in tears

Raph felt his heart warm when he read it

His favorite part of it was the baby pink lipstick kiss that you put over his name at the beginning

When it was safe to go out he made sure to wear the wraps around his wrists and carry the note with him

“Doll~” He says as he enters your room

He sees you curled on your side under the blankets

He sees you shuffle as if you are trying to sleep

“I know you you are still awake~”

You turn over and meet his eye

He sits on your bed and pats your back

“Now I need those pretty lips to tell me, can you do that Doll?”

He smirks at your flustered expression

“I like you...”

“I like ya too.”

He then brings you into his lap.

“Can I get an actual kiss now?”

Donatello:

Donatello could tell you liked him he just didn’t know why

The memorization of the periodic table gave him an unusual feeling

Then you started giving him periodic table pick up lines

He didn’t get it until his brothers pointed it out

Then you started wearing his lab coat to an insane extent

It now had your scent there permanently

Which he didn’t mind

What happened to make you confess was that he was working on some intense chemicals

He should have known better and told you to waft the smell towards you, but he ultimately forgot

This caused your eyes to water and burn to which he quickly rushed you to the fountain to rinse your eyes out

“For the last time Sweetheart, you aren’t going to go blind.”

“I might as well since I am so blindly in love with you!” you say through blubbers of tears

Donnie sighs as he takes you away from the fountain and looks into your eyes

“I love you too Sweetheart, but you have to believe me when I say the chemical will only cause irritation”

He could have sworn your pupils turned to heart eyes as you jumped in his arms for a hug

Michelangelo - Your Fav

Mikey is a bit of an air head to which is why you both clicked so well in the first place

He was skateboarding in the sewers when he sees you right in front of him

He decided it was high time to teach you how to skate

while skating however he neglected to give you any arm or knee pads

which was his plan so he had an excuse to hold your hands the entire time

which worked until you tripped and fell

You definitely got the princess treatment as he scooped you up in his arms and took you to the layer, leaving his skateboard behind

“I am so sorry Angelcakes I should have held onto you better”

He says as he makes a mess of Donnie’s Lab trying to find some bandages and hydroxide

By the time you are bandaged up you are tired and are just leaning against Mikey

To your surprise he confesses first!

“I know I am always the one to jump the gun on this but I gotta tell ya...”

He pauses for a moment

“You’re a sweet girl and I want to make sure you are okay so maybe if you’d like, you can be my Angelcake permanently?”

You let out a giggle before placing a kiss on his cheek “Of course Mikey!”

#michelangelo #michelangelo x reader #tmnt #tmnt donatello #donatello x reader #tmnt raphael #raphael x reader #tmnt leonardo #leonardo x reader #tmnt headcanons #TMNT x reader #x reader #x bimbo reader #tmnt requests

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neo404 · 6 months

Note

If you have the chance could you possibly continue Proud of you, buddy . Maybe it could be him asking the boy out and calling nick to tell him or him coming out to the family and nick just there supporting him through it ( also wanted to tell you that i love your stories )

Proud of you, buddy. Part 2.

Summary: after talking with Nick, you stayed up all night thinking about confessing your feelings to Jackson, you decided that tomorrow (Friday) will be the best day to do it, since it will be the start of your summer break.

Tw: cursing.

I wanted this to be perfect. Last night I couldn’t sleep, so I made it Nicks problem.

‘’You know I am bad at crafts.’’ He said while folding the color papers I gave him.

‘’I know, but I need help. This paper bouquet won’t do itself.’’ Nick rolls his eyes.

‘’What are you doing anyways that you don’t do the bouquet for your boyfriend.’’

‘’He’s not my boyfriend, shut up. I’m writing him a letter.’’ I blush and look down at the empty piece of paper infront of me.

‘’Oh boy, teenage love is so cute, I feel like a grandpa right now.’’

‘’Yeah, ‘cus you are old.’’ I laugh and he scoffs.

‘’I won’t help you anymore, then. My hands are too old to be folding these tiny papers’’

‘’NO, it was a joke, you are as young as a baby.’’ he laughs and keeps folding the papers.

‘’Hey, I know it can be scary, just write what you feel, yeah?’’ I nod and let out a sigh. Starting to write on the paper.

We talked until it was too late, we laughed and he shared his experiences declaring to boys and things like that. I knew I was close with my older brother, but I feel like this brought us even closer. I ended up sleeping 3 and a half hours, the next morning I was looking rough, Nick woke up early to help me pick an outfit and to drop me off to school with dad.

‘’Remember buddy, breath and say what you feel.’’ I nod and he pats my shoulder. I walk into my first period which was chemistry, I have to wait until 4th period to talk to Jackson.

I talk with my friends; I laugh with them. But I can’t shake away the though of Jackson and what he might say. I take deep breathes on the halls as I change classrooms, 3rd period ends and I’m walking into my english literature class, I feel some arms wrap around me, I look besides me and see Jackson smiling at me.

‘’Hi, why didn’t you wait for me?’’ he asks me.

‘’Oh, shit. I forgot.’’

‘’You forgot about me? AUCH. My heart, I am dying.’’ He grabs his chest dramatically and puts most of the weight of his body on me. ‘’Carry me, I am bleeding out.’’

‘’I didn’t forget about you, I forgot to wait. I didn’t wanted to be late again.’’

‘’Again? We are late to english literature like… 4 times a week?’’

‘’Yes, and we have it 4 times a week, you dumbass.’’ He stands straight, one arm still around my shoulder.

‘’Right, I forget. What would I do without you?’’

‘’Probably die.’’ He laughs

‘’True. You are my savior.’’ We enter the classroom and sit on out places, which are next to each other, we share table because the teacher says Jackson pays more attention and gets better grades when he’s with me, I think it’s because he just copies everything I do.

‘’Good morning class.’’ The teacher enters the classroom with a mug of coffee on her hand and starts talking about what we will do today.

‘’Hey, Jack.’’ I whisper and punch him softly.

‘’Hm?’’

‘’Can we talk at the end of the day?’’ I ask trying to not sound nervous.

‘’Yeah. Why not now?’’

‘’You’ll see. Just pay attention to what she’s saying.’’

‘’All right, Mr. Favorite Student.’’

The rest of the day went smoothly, Jackson and I lunched together as always. I wrote to Nick on the bathroom because I was panicking. At the end of the day Nick told me he will be waiting for me with a giant ice cream container, to celebrate or just in case.

I was outside the building, on the quiet part, where people didn’t hang around as much. I looked at Jackson approaching with a wide smile on his face.

‘’Heyo! What is it that you wanted to talk about?’’

‘’It’s a bit complicated.’’ His smile fades and nods.

‘’It’s all right dude, whatever you need I’m here to listen.’’ He pats my shoulder and sits on the ground, his back against the school bricks. I sit beside him.

‘’Well, there is something I’d like to give you.’’ His eyes widen and smiles again.

‘’Bring it out man.’’ I take a deep breath and take out of my backpack the card and the little paper bouquet. ‘’Aw, dude, that’s so cute. Thanks. Is it our anniversary or something? Why are you gifting me flowers honey?’’ he jokes, as he often does. I shrug my shoulders and point at the card. ‘’Yeah right, I should read it.’’ He reads it quietly, he bites his lip while doing so, a small smile on his face, I look down at my hands and try to not cry on stop. ‘’Shit, you are such a dork.’’ I feel his hand grabbing my face and turning my face to him, he kisses my lips. ‘’I like you too, dumbass. Can I be your boyfriend?’’

‘’What? Really.’’ My brain feels dizzy, I’m trying to process what jus happened. ‘’YES, yes.’’ After I can keep rambling, he kisses me again. We break the kiss because my phone is ringing.

‘’Where the fuck are you?’’ Matts voice sound on my ear.

‘’Shit, sorry. I lost track of time. I’m on my way.’’ I close the call and give Jackson a small kiss on the lips. ‘’Bye, see you at the dinner.’’

‘’Bye. I will be there, wait for me.’’

I rush to the car, a big smile on my face.

‘’Damn buddy, what got you so happy?’’

‘’Matt… I have a boyfriend!’’ Matt looks at me dead in the eyes and blinks twice.

‘’That’s amazing, I’m proud of you buddy.’’ He gives me a small hug and starts driving home. ‘’Is he a good guy?’’

‘’Yes, he’s really kind.’’

‘’Does he know you have 4 older brother that can beat him up?’’

‘’Yes, he knows. He’s cool Matt.’’

‘’He better be.’’

We arrive home and I swing the door open, Nick is sitting on the couch, already eating some of the ice cream.

‘’HE SAID YES!’’ Nick stands up from the couch, his eyes wide open.

‘’OH MY GOD, YEEES!!!’’ he hugs me and we jump happily.

‘’What am I missing?’’ Chris who was also eating the ice cream looks at us confused. ‘’Matt, who the fuck said yes?’’

‘’Don’t ask me, the news are as new to me as they are to you.’’ He messes up my hair as he passes by Nick and I.

‘’Chris. I have a boyfriend.’’

‘’A what?...’’ he stares at me for a few seconds. ‘’DAMN, THAT’S NICE, BUDDY. Come here, hug your older brother.’’ He walks over to me and Nick and hugs the both of us. ‘’Be who you aaaare.’’

‘’To soon, Chris.’’ Nick mutters.

‘’Oh shit, sorry.’’ He chuckles. ‘’Proud of you, buddy. When will we get to meet him?’’

‘’He’s coming for mom’s birthday.’’

‘’Oh, that’s cool.’’ Nick says.

‘’Yeah, I think I’ll tell mom, dad and Justin that day.’’

‘’Sounds like a plan.’’ Chris says. Then looks at Matt that was sitting on the couch. ‘’Don’t be a grumpy fuck Matt, come hug your brothers.’’ Matt smiles and gets up to hug us.

‘’Thank you guys, you are the best.’’

‘’We are.’’ Nick says.

#nick sturniolo x you #sturniolo triplets x reader #still dont know how to tag #younger!sturniolo #nick sturniolo and younger brother reader

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hiemaldesirae · 3 months

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picked up this book called 'murder your employee: the mcmasters guide to homicide vol 1' from my local bookstore and . Hmmm. am i hearing murder academy radiostatic au... (<- delusional)

quick rundown of the books setting (time period vaguely 1950s, before 1962 at the latest) is that there's this murder academy (i say that but its closer to a uni than a boarding school which is typically what i think of when i read academy) open to applicants of all ages to train their students to murder. the admissions fee is an extremely high price, but regular people can enter in via sponsorships (like scholarships, sort of, but its more like a specific rich person sponsoring the candidate). the students don't operate on a regular year by year schedule because 1) no one knows where the school is and thus cannot always tell even what season it is much less the month 2) students are informed of their graduation basically the day of, when the faculty decides theyre ready to leave and complete their thesis project (AKA the murder). anyway its a very fun book and so of course i had to be insane about its premise

For what it was worth, Alastor hadn't meant at all to end up studying at the Hazbin Institution for Homicide Practitioners.

Which, in fairness, was just a fancier way of saying that he hadn't meant to get caught.

It had been a situation entirely out of his control. For whatever reason, that night, the swamp had been especially difficult to navigate- even alone, much less with a bloodied and battered body slung over his shoulder, he's quite certain it would have been a struggle to work his way around the place. And while that had never been a problem the few dozen or so times he'd made the trek before (granted, they were without the actual body in his hands, but it didn't make much of a difference when he'd been carrying heavy sacks of sand to offset the weight), there was an unfortunate caveat in his plan.

He hadn't banked on being seen and followed by a truly infuriating pair of 'detectives' (though surely whatever idea they'd held of a detective was truly and fully siphoned from one of those insipid moving pictures his dear Mimzy was ever so obsessed with), and he hadn't expected to be offered a spot as a student at this... interesting facility.

The smiley man sitting in front of him nods emphatically as Alastor finishes his little cajoling speech. The nametag on his black and red suitjacket reads Dean Morningstar, and a half-poured cup of brandy sits on the side of his table. Alastor eyes the alcohol with interest, if only because looking anywhere else in the room might make him lose composure and attack the bothersome man sitting across from him.

"So, then... Mr. Hartfelt, is it true that your next target was to be your father?"

Alastor narrows his eyes at the dean. The room's atmosphere seems to drop as he holds his gaze, both of them wearing smiles that convey vastly different emotions. "I'm afraid I don't know what you're referring to."

Of course, such a lousy comeback isn't tantamount to a proper argument (unless you're the type who enjoys messing with people, which Alastor is in all moments except this one) and the dean smiles when he realizes Alastor's slip up.

"See, you have an extremely generous patron backing you on your goal... not only to take down your father, who, by the way, seems to owe you quite a lot, considering your less than stellar upbringing and childhood, so good luck with that one, but also in relation to the other bodies that have been found half-submerged in the swamp." The little devil smiles merrily. "Sorry about that one, by the way. But we had to be sure you were a good candidate for our very highly revered course list. I mean... your sponsor is paying a lot of money to see you succeed, so... we had to be pretty thorough. Again, sorry, but it's just standard protocol."

Alastor clenches his jaw, feeling his eye twitch. He'd more or less tuned out whatever else Dean Morningstar had said after he admitted to resurfacing the already weeks old bodies in the swamp- Alastor's very first targets- as a means of... assessing him, apparently. "So you're the reason the bodies have started turning up in the bayou...?"

"Not entirely," Dean Morningstar shrugs, providing no further context. "In any case, this is sort-of a caught with pants down situation, I think. You don't have many options, Mr. Hartfelt. Either you stay as a student, or we let the truth out- and let your mother know first, before getting rid of you."

He grins sunnily at Alastor. "What will it be, young man?"

So, that was that.

Following that conversation (blackmailing session) Alastor finds himself being the unwitting recipient of a campus guide by the dean himself, who, despite his short stature and seemingly accomodating personality, had already managed to make himself an enemy in the form of one (1) incredibly vexed young radio host slash serial killer in the making.

"...And that's the Music Hall, where my vice-dean and most beloved wife holds her concerts and lectures on Murder, as a Fine Arts- you may notice the ingenious references there to one Mr. Thomas De Quincey, the famed opium eater of the 1800s London..." Alastor turns a blind eye to the dean as the man just kept on talking, choosing instead to focus on the surroundings instead of the urge to strangle the annoyance beside him.

The trip to the Hazbin Institution for Homicide Practitioners- a mouthful and an incredibly unnecessary one at that- had been less a trip to a school and more like a kidnapping, in which Alastor had been more or less blackmailed into going with the two detectives who'd found him in the bayou that day and then drugged to high hell from some sort of tampered liquor, then promptly deposited in front of the school gates and almost fed broken glass twice before nearly being poisoned and then having to sit through another blackmailing session with the Dean (the guy who'd tried to poison him in the first place). So... all in all, a rather unpleasant experience on his end.

Still, the scenery almost made up for it.

The campus was almost the size of his town back home, and towering gothic buildings from before his time populated the grounds. Signs in different languages were littered around the campus grounds, and exotic foliage grew in just the right places to make the patchwork of cobbled streets and oddly vintage buildings look uniform.

"Oh, Vox! How are you this afternoon?"

Alastor's attention is drawn back to the dean as the man greets a young man dressed in formal evening attire, complete with a pocket square boutonniere and sleek black gloves. The man in question has short-ish black hair, tied back into a small ponytail with a deep blue ribbon, and two striking eyes: one a glassy larimar blue and the other the deep brown of axinite gems. Alastor finds himself regarding the other while he and the dean make simple conversation. Something about him strikes him as familiar, though he can't quite put a finger on it exactly. "Going to the Music Hall, I presume?"

"That would be correct, Sir," Vox inclines his head respectfully. "Professor Leviathan asked us to dress for the occasion, since we would be doing another ballroom class."

"Ballroom class?" Alastor raises an eyebrow, and the man startles, seemingly not having noticed he was there. Rather inept for an assassin-to-be, Alastor frowns. Were these really the sorts of students they were training? Pretty-faced civilians knowing nothing of killing, who dressed up in evening gather for afternoon classes?

"A-ah, yes..." Vox looks off to the side, seemingly nervous. His cheeks redden slightly, like a child caught in the act of stealing candy. "Uh. You're new here, right? I haven't seen you around before..."

"He is," Dean Morningstar confirms, beaming. "Just arrived this morning, with a very generous sponsor backing him. In fact, he's going to be rooming at Pride House because of the sponsor!"

"Oh, is that so?"

Vox's easy confidence seems to come back to him as he turns to Alastor, seemingly mollified by the Dean's interference. Something inside of Alastor wants to see the man nervous again, if only because the uneasy approach of the man with the gemstone eyes reminded him of the shaky-footed does he would fake out during hunts. "Well, in that case, we might be roommates. It's nice to meet you, Mister...?"

"Hartfelt. Alastor Hartfelt," Dean Morningstar says before Alastor can introduce himself, smiling even when Alastor directs a glare at the man. "He's quite the upstart, I'll have you know- Hell, I think he may have set more fires on his first day here than you did!"

Vox chuckles awkwardly, a reaction that has Alastor's eyebrows raising with curiosity. "Well, I'd sure hope not. I really wouldn't want to cause Professor Leviathan any more trouble than we already have. He deserves a bit of a break from troublemakers like us, I'd say."

While Alastor is... okay, not really all that sure what exactly Dean Morningstar was referring to with 'fires started'- in his case, they were all non literal, considering his first arrival here had ended with him on the wrong end of a shotgun (its irony was not lost to him now, three hours later and standing in the middle of what looked to be a town square plucked straight out of Vienna's bustling populace despite the fact that they were in a location completely unknown to the rest of the world)... but whatever this man had done... it intrigued him, especially given Vox's reaction to it.

"Anyway..." Vox smiles once more, inclining his head in a bow. "I really do have to get going now. If I don't, I'm afraid I may be late, and Professor Asmodeus always picks on the latecomers to answer questions first."

"Ah, we won't keep you any longer, then," Dean Morningstar agrees genially. "Have a good afternoon, Mister Vanhal!"

"You too, Dean Morningstar, Mister Hartfelt," Vox bows once more, before turning off and heading in the direction of the Music Hall. Alastor regards the other man's retreating silhouette carefully.

"Is there something you want to say, young man?" Dean Morningstar snaps him out of his reverie, covering the faint smirk on his face with a gloved hand.

While Alastor wishes he could simply meet the other with simple derision, there is a question he had been meaning to ask. "What was the evening get up for?"

Dean Morningstar shrugs, but there's a glint of something Alastor doesn't quite like in his eyes. "Why don't you go and ask Vox yourself, if you're so interested?"

"...I'm surprised your staff haven't tried to murder you yet," Alastor responds shortly. He's much too tired and frustrated to entertain the man, and- well, frankly put, his mind is a little distracted at the moment at the thought of the man with the mismatched eyes.

Dean Morningstar laughs. "They're certainly welcome to try, as are you. After all, you're now a student of the Hazbin Instution for Homicide Practitioners- and we pride ourselves on our hands-on, engaging curriculum. Hopefully, your sponsor finds what they're looking for by sending you here."

"Hopefully," Alastor agrees. After all, there's nothing else to say: from here on out, it seems to be do or die.

Student Report written with input and conference from Dean Lucifer Morningstar

Student: Alastor Hartfelt, 29 years old, Sponsor

Sponsor: [REDACTED]

To the esteemed and generous sponsor of one Mister Alastor Hartfelt,

Enclosed is a report of your charge's first day at our esteemed institution. Please dispose of this report as soon as you are finished reading it for privacy insurances. We at the Hazbin Institution for Homicide Practitioners thank you for your interest and your patronage.

Sincerely, Dean Lucifer Morningstar.

#oops i got a bit carried away with this one #ill be honest i originally noticed the book because it sounded like something mk would like #and then i had to purchase it because the cashier didnt have any change for me when i was purchasing the 7 husbands of evelyn hugo . So.#i mean i dont regret it i guess ill just wait for the next volume #btw for anyone interested in why vox dressed in evening wear is for the ballroom dancing occasion + gloves can be used to hide prints #its a rule in the book to always be dressed for the occasion. or well not a rule but like . a general guide for when youre committing murde #also im duly aware of the fact that they call it deleting and not murdering but thats just soooo fucking stupid im not calling it deleting #i am also aware of the fact fhat they are not training serial killers at mcmasters but this is hazbin and u know what #they Can train serial killers. as a treat #ran rambles #radiostatic #hazbin hotel #chai writes #the hazbin institution for homicide practitioners

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o-wild-west-wind · 1 year

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so after the s2 teaser drop the pirates have been ping-ponging inside my brain for the past few days rapidly enough to reach a boiling point and I think it’s just cooked a theory: the Kiss™ was, for all intents and purposes, a marriage proposal—and Ed’s not raiding weddings just because he feels like the possibility of a future marriage is off the cards, but because he sees himself as, quite literally, having been jilted by a man who just said yes to his proposal.

Prefacing that a) I know the historical context is not (and absolutely should not) be given much weight in this show, and b) I am not a historian (so please correct me if I say anything patently ~falshe~) but that said and with my only qualification as being a Certified Slut for period dramas, I think a case could be made that this show—and Ed specifically—could be assuming an era-specific formula for romance.

While the majority of society was kind of a free-for-all when it came to sex/marriage/etc. in the 18th century, the upper echelons were still bound to a relatively strict level of propriety, as well as transactional views of a relationship; and at the same time, this was a period when the notion of marrying for love was rising in popularity (Stede, of course, is the poster child of someone forced into this contradiction). For the upper classes, you'd be lucky to get a period of courtship before the actual marriage, because if you did, it meant you got a shot at getting to know the person you were going to end up with (and had the potential for love). And—as such—courtship was kind of a thrilling, romantic thing with a few common qualities: it tended to be very public, very loaded & grandiose, and very brief, and even though it didn't have to end in marriage, marriage was always the end goal. You can probably see where I'm going here.

I think it's easy to read the "you wear fine things well" scene as a possible soft-launch of their courtship, and Lucius's nudges solidify it. Courtship was traditionally full of big, romantic gestures—maybe planning treasure hunts and setting ships on fire weren't typical ones, but they sure do count—and as much "getting to know you" as possible. Like dating, it was the time when you'd learn the other person's values, hobbies, preferences, etc., except perhaps to a shallower degree given the typical lack of privacy. If anything, Ed and Stede have a leg up in this respect.

Now, I do think it's a misconception that the majority of marriage proposals in this time happened after, like...3 weeks of knowing each other, but the trope is there for a reason. It was a lot more common for the engagement period to be the time you really got to know each other, and it wasn't abnormal for the engagement to last longer than the actual courtship; a marriage proposal kind of WAS the first truly official step in someone's relationship socially, emotionally, and physically. And while this might not have been true of the rungs of society Ed has been a part of, it definitely would've been true of Stede's.

Now, I don't think Stede is really thinking consciously of all of this during the timeline he's with Ed; he's intent on breaking all the rules he's felt strangled by his whole life. But Ed—he wants all that. He loves the idea of an aristocratic life, but he's also a romantic who wants an aristocratic love. Like how so many of us romanticize Jane Austen novels because it's a world we're so far removed from, Ed probably romanticizes love in Stede's world. He doesn't want the free-for-all he's been living; he loves the thrill of a courtship, of gentlemanly sensibilities, of the metaphorical dance of it all. And when an upper-crust gentleman appears to have initiated this courtship—and when he's being encouraged by everyone (except Izzy, but there's even more romance in rebellion) to reciprocate—he's going to indulge in it with all his heart. He's literally living a romantic novel dream world, and once he's sure of Stede's feelings, he has absolutely no reason not to expect that their trajectory is marriage. Sure, Stede is a pirate now—but he's still a gentleman, and isn't that what being wooed by a gentleman means?

So when they're in a desperate situation and the bar for grand gestures can't go higher, and they experience true privacy for the first time ever, and Stede kisses back, and he says yes to running away together—and Ed even asks for confirmation to make sure it’s all for real—"yes?" "I think so?" "yes!"—that's as good as a vow. That's a promise on par with a proposal. And this is probably when it clicks for Stede, too—he hears Mary's words, "we never would've chosen each other," and suddenly he realizes that he can finally choose love! And so there they are: relationship made official, 1700s style.

Cut to Ed, crashing weddings and stealing little cake toppers in dramatically tragic, anachronistic fashion—because, well...they were supposed to get married, weren't they? Because that's what gentlemen are supposed to do, or so he thought. But in reality, gentlemen aren't romantic; they're just fickle.

And let the divorce arc commence.

#i went for a thesis brainstorming walk and came back with this can i send this to my advisor instead #and apologies if this has been said before and I didn't notice i've been awol from fandom for a while and i miss her sm #also obligatory note that i think Kraken!Ed is 100% Izzy's doing but i do think the sims wedding era is something closer to his true self #and i love him for it <3 #ofmd #ofmd season 2 #ofmd spoilers #ofmd meta #our flag means death #blackbonnet #edward teach

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percheduphere · 10 months

Note

How do you think Mobius will live his life in the timeline? Many theorize that something happens to Don and Mobius takes his identity so his sons live with a father. I prefer that Mobius reflects on his old life, realizes he can’t live it, and creates his own life.

Oh, boy, Anon. I have a lot of fanfic ideas for this, but let's get into the meta-analysis side of this before we get into the rabbit hole that is my washer-dryer machine of an imagination.

Mobius is not doing well. He is going through the stages of grief. I've written an extensive meta here regarding the darker aspects of his character and how he's at risk by the end of the series. I also wrote a brief meta here regarding how his grief might manifest.

With this in mind, I actively HATE the idea of Mobius spiraling to the point he becomes "corrupted". I don't what Michael Waldron did to Wanda. I guess you could make the argument that it would be interesting to see a man emotionally unravel in such a way, but I hold Mobius's unshakable kindness dear in my heart. I don't ever want him to lose it because it is essentially his superpower.

[Sidebar: comics canon House of M notwithstanding; Marvel and DC comics canon are consistently horrible in their characterization of exceptionally powerful women: Wanda Maximoff Jean Grey/Phoenix; Carol Danvers/then Ms. Marvel; Rogue; on and on; I'll throw Sylvie in here, too, because why not, it's true.]

I see Mobius mourning Loki for two years. Two years because, statistically, that is how long it takes for most people who've lost an intimate loved one to get out of clinical depression. During this period, I see him losing weight, wandering aimlessly between timelines, trying and failing to copy Don's life by taking a job that involves jet skis or aquatics more generally. B-15 would make a point to check-in on him and know he's not doing well, but Mobius, because he does not want anyone to worry about him, because he is used to being the person who keeps people together, insists he's fine.

MY FANFIC IDEA

I see Mobius eventually recognizing he needs a therapist, which he will find ironic and deeply troubling, but he's not about to give up on trying to live for Loki's sake.

And in his conversations with his therapist and B-15, Mobius will come to realize that he can still use his key strengths outside of the TVA: analyzing people, deconstructing what makes them tick, using that knowledge to help the other person, similar to a therapist but more active in support. Mobius is very well-suited to become a social worker of troubled and at-risk youth. I think he should pursue this and ...

Mobius will choose a branched timeline in the late 90s/early 2000s. There, he will meet a war-orphaned, thirteen year-old Wanda Maximoff, who is friendless and struggling to understand the nature of her powers (magic). Mobius is drawn to her right away. It takes time, but he eventually gains Wanda's trust.

Red. Red is Wanda's color. It's in her hair, her cheeks, her magic. Now that red reaches Wanda's eyes, filled with tears her anger stoppers. "You saw what I can do. What I did. The other kids call me a 'witch' 'cause that's what I am. A witch. A monster."

Mobius sits next to the young girl on the stoop. The sun winks at them through the green tree boughs, and he wonders, for a moment, what Loki might think of him now, finding solace in a child who needs solace.

"That's not true. You're not a monster, but I tell you what: witches are pretty cool." Mobius grins, knocking his knee against hers. The fabric of his slacks shakes, still too loose. "Y'know, my best friend has magic just like yours, except it's green instead of red."

Wanda peers at him, hopeful and dubious. "Really?"

"Yup. He had a tough time, too, being different." He leans closer to her, sharing a secret. "But things got better. You should've seen him. He was--is-- magnificent. You're magnificent."

Her lips purse into an embarrassed smile. She drops her head, thoughtful, and tucks her hands beneath the fold of her knees. "Where is he now? Do you still see him?"

The question is innocent, as all things are with a soul of thirteen. She doesn't mean to hurt him. Mobius knows this. So he takes the thorn of her words and presses it against his ribcage. His throat works. The ache comes and goes but never fully abates.

"Well," Mobius sighs. "He had to move on. Life is like that sometimes. People come and go. Things happen and ... there's not much you can do except hope they're okay. That they're happy and safe."

He can't look up. Not at the tree or the sun. He worries if he does, he'll start to cry, and that won't do when this girl who reminds him so much of his wily god has finally cracked a smile.

"C'mon," he says, rising to his feet. "Let's get you something to eat."

"McDonald's?" Wanda brightens.

Another thorn. He takes that one too and thinks of pretty roses.

"Whatever you want, kiddo."

#anon asks #asks #loki #mobius #lokius #loki series #loki season 2 #loki headcanons #my headcanons #my fanfic ideas #loki meta #my meta #lokius fanfic #wanda maximoff #scarlett witch #my writing

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1-800-c0sm1c · 1 year

Text

꒰win it all !꒱

to build hype around the new season, your arrival to the games was kept a secret up until it went live, and some legends had more notable reactions than others.

character x legend!reader

includes crypto, octane, and mirage !

a/n : im sorry ive been gone but look i made you some contenttttt daddy made you your favorite open wide 🥳. im noticing a severe lack of apex fanfics rn so here is my contribution 🤲.

warnings : mentions of stalking (average crypto behavior), drugs (average octane behavior), & mentions of hooking up (you guessed it, average mirage behavior).

CRYPTO // TAEJOON PARK:

crypto doesnt like surprises, period. its one thing if its mediocre like a birthday party, but a whole person was hidden under his nose and he had no idea? unacceptable.

in summary, youve shattered his ego simply from your presence. not cool.

hes not really known for looking approachable either, so unless youve got the balls or stupidity to talk to him, hell keep to himself and sulk. this sets back any plans he had in the back of his mind by a whole season.

when you introduce yourself to him on the dropship he practically ignores you, acting as if anything else is more interesting than this small talk.

"hi im y/n, ive heard a lot about you from mirage. nice to meet you!" he rolls his eyes, witt is always one to blabber about others.

you scoff at his response, "dont expect me to be as open and idiotic as elliott." he almost adds you to that list, but holds back on it. if anything lifeline has told him holds weight, you could be useful to get information from the syndicate.

"im crypto by the way." he continues, if he plays his cards right you could almost be worth his time.

getting paired with you and mirage was almost comical, its as if the games were trying to make his life as hard as possible.

you got along annoyingly well with mirage, but you seemed more hesitant when it came to crypto, which was truly bothered him. (it was not jealousy at all. he was not jealous whatsoever. nope, definitely not.)

hes struggling to interact with you, like he does with most of the other legends, but youre a different case due to how useful you could be to him. thats usually the reasoning he uses when he racks his brain for ideas to come across less mean without irreparably ruining his reputation.

as if his prayers had been answered, a few hours after your first game you appear in the doorway to his room with a piece of high tech equipment in your hand. but your expression is different from how it was before. you appear upset, how can you be angry with him already? youve barely interacted!

if you want to be pissy, so can he. "can i help you? he asks, annoyance in his voice. "im almost sure you can, brilliant hacker." you drop the equipment in front of him on his desk, distracting him from his current project. he scowls. "what exactly am i looking at here?" you roll your eyes. "you tell me, this is clearly yours right? found it in my room."

he examines the object, looks like a hidden camera. "ive never seen this before, if you want me to fix it call someone else, im not tech support." he pushes it to the side, but youre not having it. "nuh-uh, you cant brush this off. i know youve created the cameras used to record the games, this has to be your tech!"

so you think hes stalking you? thats a good idea honestly, he wish he had thought of it first. "just because i created those doesnt mean i also designed this. looks like someone else wants to keep an eye on you. got anyone in mind?" you pause for a moment, letting his words sink in. why cant it just be an open and shut case?

"i have no idea, i just got here! is anyone else even knowledgeable enough to design something like this?" he shrugs. "looks can be deceiving." "will you at least help me figure out whos stalking me?" he wants to say no. he knows its bad news, especially for someone like him to get involved in. but its a great opportunity to get closer to you. closer to his end goal, and despite it truly not being the only reason, he decides its good enough for him. "i guess i can make time, tell me about your interactions since youve joined."

from this point on, you and crypto get much closer, it feels like he knows everything about you. (maybe he does honestly 💀.)

but you can tell hes getting frustrated when it comes to the hidden camera, and you cant help but feel like a nuisance.

on the surface, crypto looks like you are whats stressing him out. why hes angrier than usual, why hes drowning himself in his work. and in a way thats true, but not exactly.

in reality, hes more worried for your safety. your arrival was an entire surprise, so how could someone have infiltrated your room to begin with? he cant figure it out, and almost entirely forgets the original reason he wanted to get to know you.

its no longer a matter of getting information, that can wait. he has all season after all. but someone else trying to watch you? he wont tolerate it, and wants it to be the first thing thats fixed, he likes you much better when youre not paranoid, not like him.

OCTANE // OCTAVIO SILVA:

HYPED!!! another legend is always exciting to octane, even more so when he gets lucky enough to be paired with them.

octavio can be a bit much at times, but you match his energy almost perfectly!

dedication to the apex games, and genuinely having a great time, not finding him annoying??? he should ask if youre into hard drugs too at this point.

anyone who goes up against the two of you on a team together should fear for their lives. octane swears hes never had so much fun in a match before. (almost as much fun as id have if kings canyon was in the map rotation this season ☹.)

theres a voice in the back of his head that he cant shake, telling him youre someone sent from the syndicate to mess with him, or maybe something worse.

he doesnt want to risk making you upset with him (like some other legends) so he reluctantly keeps these thoughts to himself, but due to his online personality being so similar to his real self, you almost immediately notice a change.

you decide to confront octane after the match, and originally he completely disregards your questions.

"what are you on about, compadre? im fine, really!" but youre not having it, and octane knows youre not going to drop this so easily.

"i just cant help but think this isnt how you usually act outside of games." you shrug when he asks for your reasoning of pressing on. "well how would you know? you just got here." he chuckles. "which i think is exactly why youre hiding things from me. i understand though, its hard to trust someone you just met. i only had an outsiders perspective up until a few hours ago."

"thats exactly whats so scary about you amigo. you seem like youre some fuckin syndicate spy!" "why? because we get along?" octane sighs. maybe having a legend who understands him is a bad thing. its easier to justify someone who hates him, theres plenty reason to. but like him? enjoy his company? hes confused, to say the least.

hes frantically reaching for one of his stims, if his mind is going to be racing so frantically, the rest of his body might as well do the same. "lets leave this here for now, yeah? ive got some videos to film!" he gets up quickly, but stops dead in his tracks when you offer to help him with his stunts. he whips around back over to you. "you sure?" you nod with a smile that might make him more energetic than any stim could. "alright cmon cmon cmon! i hope you known how to hold a camera, if you miss any good shots im gonna be pissed!"

rumors start about octanes elusive camera operator, all kinds of misinformation spreads too, some of it crazier than others.

you personally find it funny, sometimes tempting the viewers by almost flipping it around to show your face, but youre stopped by octane and his ridiculously fast reflexes everytime.

"hey hey amigo no need to ruin the mystery! plus you totally just didnt film that awesome stunt i just did! what am i paying you for!?"

you try your best to stop yourself from laughing, but at this point youre sure it must be obvious its you behind the camera, youre just going along with the "mystery" because octane asked you to by whispering in your ear that it "increases his interaction" or whatever influencer bullshit. (you were more focused on his voice than what he was saying tbh 🧍.)

the other legends are sick of you two at this point, and are just about ready to expose the "secret" to get octane to shut up 😭. when i say you guys are always together doing stupid shit i mean ALWAYS!!

MIRAGE // ELLIOTT WITT:

a flirt wbk. expect to be invited to lots of yacht parties.

mirage is known to have a very welcoming aura, and you noticed this the second you first interacted on the dropship. (anyone wanna take me out? come find me 🤭.)

you guys are on the same team for tdm, and he is almost constantly by your side.

someone sneaks up behind you? hes already sending a decoy their way so you can get the upper hand.

in case you miss? no worries, hes right behind you with pinpoint accuracy. (talk about a great first impression.)

you guys absolutely crushed the opposite team 50-15, and mirage hurriedly rushes over to you the second the match is concluded to invite you to his celebration party that night.

youre more surprised he has the energy to still keep going after such an intensive match, and you barely get the chance to say maybe before hes walking away excitedly.

uh, actually i might sit this one out-" "cool, cool, cool. ill see you tonight!"

lets just say things get… interesting on the mirage a trois 😀.)

you hooked up on the boat okay, youre not the first (and might not be the last either.)

parties werent necessarily your thing, but after elliott had practically won the game for you today, you figured showing up was the least you could do to return the favor. you were honestly just hoping the yacht didnt blow up like youd heard about his other ones doing…

you arrive way later than everyone else in hopes that you arent the first person there, but your current situation is almost just as awkward as everyone assumes you managed to get lost on your way here. (as if you could miss mirages yacht if you tried…) however, you probably did look just as lost as everyone assumed you were while trying to find mirage in the sea of decoys and other party guests.

when you finally stop getting bamboozled and find the real mirage, you try to explain you were only stopping by out of politeness, but hes not having any of it. "what do you mean youre leaving already? weve gotta make up for all the partying time lost while you werent here!" he hands you a drink and leads you to a table with crypto and wattson, who seem to have just had an… important conversation interrupted with your presence.

"if theres anyone you wanna get to know in the games, other than me of course, these are the legends!" youre almost amazed at how mirage chooses to ignore the awkward atmosphere hes created, and manages to smooth it over in record time as well. crypto looks as annoyed as ever, meanwhile wattson attempts her best at a conversation with the group, and you almost wish you never showed up in the first place.

‘almost’ is the key word here, you knew deep down you didnt really have anywhere else to be, and going along with whatever such an attractive legend says was surely better than staying in your dorm room and missing out on a night of fun. which is exactly why when elliott leaned closer to your ear and said something that definitely wasnt pg-friendly, you downed your drink and made quick goodbyes to his friends before leaving to a secluded area of the yacht with the party host himself.

i think by now the other legends are just waiting for you two to finally announce theres something between you.

everyone, and i mean everyone seems to know, and i swear rampart is one more flirtatious comment away from exposing your corny asses during the next match.

however, youre hesitant. youre still incredibly new to the games, isnt it odd for things to be moving so fast?

sure, elliott is great, but you cant help but have an anxious feeling in your stomach, and making the mistake of looking at comments online surely isnt helping either.

mirage noticed your shift in behavior immediately, hes been around you more than any of the other legends, and he expects to be the first to hear of whats troubling you (if youre okay with it, of course).

he might not seem like it at first glance, but mirage really is a great listener. despite your first impressions of him making him out to be well… a party-loving flirt, he has so many more layers to him than whats on the surface level.

when he gets serious, hes not cracking his usual jokes, although hes still got his awkward charm.

"i just… feel like were moving too fast. its only been a month since ive joined the game after all…"

he thinks for a moment before responding calmly, "well i mean, if you wanna take things slower, all you had to do was ask. besides we have all the time in the world! as long as you dont have some secret plan to leave the games or something, than were fine!" you smile at him.

okay, maybe he does still joke a little bit, put i promise its fine in context 😭😭.

can you tell i like crypto (especially jealous crypto) a totally normal amount 😦 totally not inspired by the mcc song by derivakat 🫶

215 notes · View notes

ravenelyx · 1 year

Text

I love you in every timeline - Chapter 2: One Hundred Years of Solitude

← Prologue

← Chapter 1

→ Chapter 3

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x Fem!Reader

Words: 10.5k

Chapter Warnings: angst, Harry Potter characters appearance, no name usage for reader (not even y/n dw), use of 2nd person though bc it makes sense for the story - trust me, Sebastian is veery confused and veeery jealous but he found a friend in this madness, veeeeery slow burn

Summary: "He smiled as he sat down next to the blonde girl, ignoring the giddy feeling in his stomach as you watched his every move. He also might have accidentally sat right opposite of you.". In which Sebastian, in his search for a cure in the Dark Arts, finds himself 100 years into the future and meets his most trusted companion's descendant (who looks far too similar to the girl he was once secretly in love with).

A/N: I deeply apologise for the late update. I wanted to use this Chapter to expand a bit over his life at Hogwarts and other relationships, other than, yk, the rrrrromance. Anyway, Daphne is my crush.

You can find the whole fanfiction here on ao3

"Intrigued by that enigma, he dug so deeply into her sentiments that in search of interest he found love, because by trying to make her love him he ended up falling in love with her." - Gabriel García Márquez, One Hundred Years of Solitude

The Great Hall was almost empty when he entered it, as most of the students had already gone to class. Since he had a free period before Charms, Sebastian decided to allow himself more sleep than usual.

Not that it had been any useful.

He felt exhausted, dragging himself to the nearest seat at his House table and resting his head on the cold wood. There was hardly anything left, and he was more than happy to just munch on a cold pancake and drink a glass of pumpkin juice, enough to sustain him for at least a few hours, although barely.

Perhaps it was the sight of the Hall, empty and familiar, perhaps it was the enchanted ceiling shining sunny rays on the Slytherin table, perhaps it was the unsatisfactory breakfast after an unsatisfactory dinner, but for a split second, Sebastian was at home.

It was a sour feeling, like his pumpkin juice had spoiled and his pancake had grown mould in his hands, yet he couldn't stop feasting on it, searching for a piece he could savour, if only once. That, he realised, was the beginning of his destruction.

Memories of the previous day's conversation came flooding back and he groaned, the weight in his chest growing heavier, and the pancake suddenly seemed even less appetising as he dropped it onto the plate.

'Everything is clearer in the morning', Dumbledore had said.

Perhaps he should lend me his glasses, Sebastian thought.

Fortunately, the headache had subsided since the conversation, and although his sleep hadn't been as satisfying as he'd hoped, he felt a little better than he had a few hours ago. Maybe it was the pumpkin juice.

He shoved the pancake back in his mouth, almost choking on it, and rubbed his eyes before standing up. From his table, a few Slytherins turned their heads towards him, and he recognised a few of his peers among them: a brown-haired boy was waving a wand around with a devil-may-care attitude while a blonde girl tried to snatch it out of his hands. None of them seemed in a rush to leave, which almost made Sebastian think he had read his timetable wrong.

He checked again for good measure and he was glad to know he was absolutely right. He then thought he might have been mistaken about the students: they either weren't in the same year as him as he had previously thought or they were waiting for the perfect moment to be fashionably late.

Sebastian, for all his self-respect and gallantry, had little time to be fashionable.

Leaving the students be — and ignoring their eyes on him as soon as he turned towards the door — he headed off to class, ready to begin lessons in a new, unfamiliar environment.

It felt bloody ironic to think that after five years.

If anything, the hallways were deserted and the cracking fire of the torches put him at ease, and that was a pretty huge step up. The walk to Classroom 2E was almost refreshing, and for once, he didn’t lament the stairs. The same couldn’t be said for the screeching laugh of a certain Slytherin girl as soon as she saw him wander around.

“Lost, new fifth-year?” laughed Pansy Parkinson, then she turned to her right as if expecting someone to pat her back.

If her goal was to discomfit him, she might need to review her bullying strategies.

“You’re not still crying because of what happened yesterday, are you?” retorted Sebastian, only stopping briefly to look at her before resuming his walk.

“I could give you detention,” she shrieked.

“That would delight me.”

Pansy Parkinson didn’t follow him, for which he was delightfully glad. Not that it would matter that much: he’d see her in class anyway — probably fleering at him with newfound energy once she had his beau beside her.

A perfect pureblood pair, he almost wanted to throw up.

The classroom hadn’t changed an inch, so much that Sebastian almost expected Professor Ronen to parade down the stairs with his purple robes and terrible jokes. Instead, what waited for him was a short man standing on a pile of books, swinging from left to right on his tiny legs. He was waving his wand around, blank scrolls of parchments depositing themselves on each desk while a whole new bunch of them floated around his head.

“Oh! Come! Come!” he shrieked as soon as he saw Sebastian, gesturing for him to approach his desk. “Have your classmates met you yet? Oh, I’m sure they have! You seem like a nice, friendly bloke!”

Sebastian wasn’t sure if the words “nice” and “friendly” suited him, actually, but he gave the professor a smile nonetheless.

“I’d told Dumbledore he ought-a make a proper introduction! I can’t imagine how odd it must have been for you — and especially in such circumstances,” he whispered the last part, and Sebastian felt his smile falter and his heart drop pathetically to his stomach. That is something that adults do, where in all their experience and emotional maturity they always fail to consider their younger interlocutors' perspective, and Sebastian really wanted to snap at the small man and make him understand that he didn’t exactly feel the need to be reminded of his situation all the time.

The man seemed to notice, too (and what miracle, Sebastian thought), and he brought his hands to his mouth, capping it shut like he had just revealed a big secret. “Sorry,” he muffled, “I ought-a be more sensible.”

Unwinding his hands, he finally addressed the rest of the students, motioning Sebastian to turn towards them.

To say his introduction was embarrassing would have been too kind a compliment.

He stayed still like a statue, almost hoping that the less he moved, the less visible he was. The professor did the honours, and Sebastian had to fight the urge to take out his wand and blast Draco Malfoy and his gang to Merlin’s grave as they snickered.

“You may go and sit next to Miss Davis.” The small man lightly patted his back to direct him towards the desk. “I’m Professor Filius Flitwick — you can come and find me for any doubts, my office is open at every hour!”

“Every hour indeed,” whispered Miss Davis as soon as Sebastian sat down. “He might even give you cupcakes if you look distressed enough!”

Sebastian thought that Professor Flitwick might have to step up his baking game, as far as distress goes.

Charms class had paid off, and Sebastian felt better, more like himself, than he had in the past twenty-four hours. Flitwick was a little eccentric, but a very knowledgeable and capable Charms master, other than a lenient Professor by Hogwarts standards — he didn't even give extra assignments to those who were late.

Miss Davis — or Tracey, as Sebastian learnt — had been very helpful. She shared her book with him and lent him her notes. Sebastian realised there were quite a few things that he had never heard of, fruit of many decades of research and discovery.

On the whole, he believed he was content enough and ready for his next class. Sebastian felt at ease in an almost confounding way: and he was sure he'd become jittery soon enough, yet a new found purpose — if only for a short time — invigorated his spirit. If he focused on school, he'd fill his brain enough not to think about anything else. That was ideal.

"What do you think, mate?"

A Slytherin boy approached him, slinging his bag on his shoulder, and Sebastian jumped a little, surprised by the sudden voice. He recognised him as the boy in the Great Hall, with the messy brown hair and the long face, but his blonde friend was nowhere to be found.

"What?" asked Sebastian, slowing down to allow him to approach.

The boy smiled reassuringly. "Flitwick. That was your first Charms class in Hogwarts, was it not?"

Sebastian had to bite his tongue at that, willing Professor Ronen’s jovial face to disappear from his mind. “Indeed it was…”

“So?”

So…

Sebastian tried not to make a comparison, but a wall of pros and cons was already manifesting in the window on his mind, served with just a tad of cognitive bias.

"Oh, it was good. He's a bit eccentric isn't he?" said Sebastian tentatively.

"Yeah, but he's all right. We thought he was part elf for the longest time but we never dared to ask."

Sebastian smirked, remembering the professor’s squeaky voice and the books he had to stand on. He was almost bizzarre, when he moved his wand around: like a toy hit by a Transfiguration spell that jumped around as if alive. "I thought he was a bit… short."

"Yeah. Apparently he's part Goblin instead, but heh, same thing," said the boy nonchalantly and walked past him.

Sebastian faltered, stilling in place as if someone had poured concrete on his shoes. Just as a cracked mirror, the toy decayed on the wooden floor, moulded by years of humidity and abandon.

He thought he had grown even slightly accustomed to the changes — to the people wandering around him, the classmates treating him like a foreigner, the professors having to hide him under carefully practised smiles and braided hands on their mouths — and yet, the mere idea that his own professor had goblin ancestry was tearing him apart like nothing before.

He knew that Goblins weren't the ones that cursed Anne (his friend had told him that, after all), and he knew, logically and maturely, that just because a few of them were bad didn't mean all of them were, but he still felt a little flame of anger — and prejudice — light up inside him, along with scattered guilt for his own thoughts and the memory of Feldcroft's events.

Sebastian wanted to forget the past, and yet it kept following him, even through space and time, and he couldn’t help but think about that goblin slitting his own throat at his wishes, and intrusively imagine Flitwick being in his place.

He really tried to ignore it, for his own good. Flitwick was a good teacher, a skilled wizard even: his ancestry had nothing to do with it — or him. He hoped that he wouldn’t need more time to warm up to the Charms professor after hearing the new information.

But he knew he did.

“What’s that face, new student?” came Draco Malfoy’s provoking snicker, followed by his group’s. “Was this little class so hard it made you realise how dense you are?”

“I'd worry more about your failed Colour Change Charm today. Need help with that?”

Draco Malfoy shut up immediately.

Upon leaving the classroom, Sebastian read his timetable again and saw that he had three free periods before Care of Magical Creatures. He groaned in displeasure and then cringed at himself: he was probably the only student in the whole world who wanted to actively study at the moment. He sighed and simply decided to spend his free time in the Library to try to catch up on what he had missed.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

"Could you direct me to the books involving the events of the last century?" Sebastian asked the librarian as soon as he entered the room, and she eyed him suspiciously before handing him his library card and pointing him in the right direction.

Not much had changed in the Library, so much that Sebastian was still able to pronounce every book by memory as his eyes skimmed over the covers. He walked through the Library like it was home, his chest caving with a soft buzz of comfort and excitement. Sebastian thought he might cry on the spot if he didn't have so many curious eyes on him.

There was, of course, a new section with books he had never read before: books of the new century, and, wistfully, the books he was searching for. Whilst the new shelves broke that bell jar of naiveté gradually forming around him as part of him still clung to the past, an excited grin broke onto his face nonetheless; he had always prided himself on having read every book in the room — except for the Restricted Section — and the idea of absorbing even more knowledge was almost invigorating enough to brighten up his day. He was his parents' son after all.

Madam Pince stared at him from across the room, her neck moving to watch his actions in a way that eerily resembled a rattlesnake as he grabbed as many books as he could carry in his arms before placing them on the nearest desk where another Slytherin girl sat. She looked at him suspiciously, with a playful hint in her eyes.

"Busy, aren't we? I almost took you for a Ravenclaw,” she said jauntily, then glanced back down at her book, a copy of Intermediate Transfiguration, and unwrapped a parchment scroll beside it, pushing a strand of her long blonde hair behind her ear so it wouldn't fall in her face.

Whether the girl intended it as a compliment or not, he allowed it to go over his head: her teasing had already stepped foot into his boundaries, but Sebastian felt like the bell jar was too broken to stop it, and he let it be.

"I've a lot of catching up to do," he sighed as he took a seat in front of her, opened the first book on the list — A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot — and read the table of contents, frowning when he noticed the book didn't get past the 19th century. What surprised him the most was that this was, technically, the assigned book for the year. Was the history of the past century so useless and uneventful it didn't deserve to be shed light on?

The girl raised her head and looked at him as he focused on the words in front of him. "Oh, right. You're the new student everyone's talking about, aren't you?"

That was not exactly on his list of yearly accomplishments.

Sure, he was the best duelist in Crossed Wands (second best, he suddenly reminded himself) and his duels were the talk of the school for days after they happened, and especially if they involved her.

But that was good talk. The kind of talk that makes people know you as talented and dashing and charming (and a loser sometimes, but only because she was better: and if she was better, he didn't care), not the kind that depicted you as the boorish and lonely new student who didn't even deserve a formal introduction and had a fight with two Prefects on his first day. That was the bad talk: the talk he wouldn't wish upon his worst enemy (or perhaps only to those like Duncan Hobhouse, because he was a boorish and a loner and his formal introduction should spare everyone present. But that was Duncan.)

"Everyone?" he asked then, rhetorically and with a strange need to eat those words back up and become that boorish loner, too.

"Well, it's quite an unusual occurrence. People are curious."

Curious wasn’t exactly what Sebastian needed at the moment, yet Hogwarts was, after all, a bracket of adolescents waiting to feast and find something else to worry about than their potions essay.

"Fair enough," he said, folding the book shut and putting it aside, deeming it useless for his research. "I'm Sebastian Sallow."

"Daphne Greengrass. Pleased to meet you." She extended her arm towards him over the table, her palm open and waiting, and he faltered for a moment at her boldness before repeating her movements. Her grip on his hand was firm and confident as she shook it. Sebastian studied her face more closely, a feeling of familiarity lingering on the back of his mind.

"Are we in the same year?" he asked, almost feeling the gears turning in his brain as he tried to recall her face.

"You're observant," she replied sarcastically. "Yeah, I was actually sitting behind you in Charms just now. Next to Pansy?"

Like an epiphany. He remembered the blonde girl at breakfast. She was one of the few students who arrived late to Charms class.

Then his brain focused on the name she said, and his eye twitched. "Don't tell me you're friends with her."

"I wouldn't say 'friends'; she can be rude sometimes."

Sebastian had a word in mind that perfectly described his combination of “rude” and “Pansy Parkinson”, but decided not to say it. He just rolled his eyes and Daphne smiled. "Really, most of the time she's all right. Quite nice even — but only if you're a pureblood. I'm actually surprised she's never thought of me as a blood traitor, considering the stances of my family, but I suppose there's a clear line between support and neutrality, and we haven't crossed it yet."

As if neutering any possible debate, she began scribbling on her parchment what seemed to be the beginning of an essay.

Sebastian felt like the line between neutrality and supremacy was much more blurred instead.

"Delightful," said Sebastian simply, picking up the nearest book and beginning to read it as they fell into a comfortable silence.

The books felt like a balm and a curse, redolent of pretty much every emotional experience Sebastian had lived through in the past day.

After about an hour, he put the books back, having flicked through them all, and had just begun to let his eyes wander over the shelf in search of a new one when he heard shuffling behind him.

Daphne had put her books away and was frowning at him. "It's nearly lunchtime, I'm heading to the Great Hall. D'you want to come?"

Sebastian paused for a moment, looking around and noticing how the Library was emptying by the minute. "Uh, sure. I didn't realise it was that late." And he found himself following Daphne outside, striking a conversation on the way and feeling a little lighter.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

The sun was still as hot as ever as he followed his fellow Slytherins to his Care of Magical Creatures class a few hours later. Draco Malfoy led the group, snickering along with Pansy Parkinson and the two big students about some second-year Hufflepuff they took points from. Sebastian rolled his eyes so hard he could have sworn he saw the back of his own head.

When Malfoy's blonde hair disappeared from his field of vision, he almost rolled them again when he recognised the familiar robes of his Gryffindor classmates.

Gryffindor could only mean one thing: You.

He frantically looked around for your familiar silhouette and breathed a sigh of relief when he found nothing. You hadn't mentioned any elective other than Divination to him — apart from your obvious dislike of Arithmancy — so perhaps, by some benevolent Supreme Being, you hadn't chosen that course, and he would have to see you even less.

His solace was short-lived, because after only a few seconds he heard hurried footsteps behind him. Sebastian turned and saw you walking towards him, followed by the two Prefects and the boy with glasses. Just like that, dread washed over him like magma, and he was sure his vision had lost focus for a moment — his body shrivelled at your presence, like you had touched him and burned his skin to the bone and no amount of Wiggenweld could fix it.

He grimaced (and he thought that the fact that he managed to contain his face to a simple grimace was noteworthy) as you approached and mentally prepared himself to start a conversation with you — because of course you would talk to him: you had done it every time you had met the day before.

It was logical, like Ominis being angry at him for no reason, or Anne taking his hands in hers when they met.

(But that logic can break, and he knew it all too well.)

It's not that he didn't like talking to you — he did: far too much, in fact — but he had made a promise to himself and was willing to keep it. He had already regretted telling you about the Undercroft, and he had felt incredibly embarrassed that morning when he had remembered your conversation.

‘I suppose I had no other choice,' his mind played it over and over mockingly, taunting him like a broken cuckoo clock in an old lady's house — and he has seen an awful lot of them in his time living in the countryside — or like one of those school kids he wanted to strangle when he was young, singing off-key doggerels at the bare mention of a girl's name.

You flashed him a smile and gave him a quick wave, and the corners of his mouth lifted against his will. He sounded himself leaning towards you, ready to strike up a conversation when you would inevitably stop beside him. After all, you had followed him the night before when he left the Great Hall, hadn't you?

And so he spoke, "Hi—"

"Neville? How did you get here so fast?" you said at the same time, shifting your wide eyes towards the Gryffindor group. You practically dashed past him, rushing towards another Gryffindor boy standing just a few feet away from him, and Sebastian was left there, his greeting hanging in the air unanswered. "We literally just left the greenhouse, did you sprint here or what?" He heard you laugh.

"Hello, Sebastian," said Hermione, as Ron and Harry gave him a nod of acknowledgement, with polite smiles on their faces. The three of them joined you and Neville, along with the rest of the Gryffindors, and Sebastian sighed, a heavy feeling in his chest and pure shame seeping through his veins. He thought he had physically heard his stomach bounce like a poorly knitted pillow, and the more his mind replayed the scene, the more it unbounded until all that was left was a poorly looped slip knot.

"Well, that was awkward." Daphne was right next to him again and had witnessed the whole interaction. Sebastian's eye twitched.

"What was?" He decided to play dumb, already knowing he'd be unsuccessful as his gloomy expression was more than enough for a tell.

"'Hi." She taunted him with an exaggerated dreamy sigh, and he bit the inside of his cheek in annoyance as another step forward in that boundary almost felt like a kick in the shins.

"I did not sound like that."

"You sounded exactly like that," she smirked. "You almost threw yourself in front of her, too."

"I did not," he protested weakly, looking at the ground to measure his position and see if Daphne was actually right.

She was.

"I beg to differ. What's with the few steps you took forward then?"

Sebastian was properly blushing now, and as the girl giggled, he felt like a wet Puffskein in a camp of Poachers. He frantically looked around to ensure no one was looking his way, and no one was, yet he still felt as if their eyes were just barely waiting to peel the skin off his bones as languidly as a blink. He took a step back as if it could undo his actions.

"Don't tell me you've already got a crush,” Daphne continued, either unaware or uncaring of Sebastian's feelings. “You've been here — what, a day? I mean, I get it. She is gorgeous; I'm sure many guys and girls would agree, but that's a record."

"I don't have a crush," he said through gritted teeth, arms tightening around his midriff as he crossed them to his chest protectively, yet at the sceptical look on his newfound friend's face, which seemed to reach parts of him that felt a bit too personal — specifically the alcove between his ribcage and heart — he snapped. "I don't! She just reminds me of someone else I knew. It's not her I... It's just not like that, all right?"

A few heads turned to him, startled by his outburst, and he chewed on his cheek to calm down. He did not need further attention.

He opened his hands and caressed the palm over his arms, as if smoothing the skin down.

The girl stared as well, and Sebastian was pleased to see her bite her lip as if regretting her words. "Wow, all right, I get it." She took a few steps to stand right beside him, trying to appear unfazed by his tone, and faced the Professor, whispering: "So, it's like a 'fill-in crush'?"

Not again.

Sebastian sighed heavily, like it could remove the huge weight of her words crushing his lungs. "A what?"

"You're attracted to her because she’s, in a way, similar to your other crush," said Daphne matter-of-factly, nodding in satisfaction at her own statement.

His blush spread, and he had to close his eyes to bask in that bell jar again, if only for a little.

"I wouldn't say 'attracted'," he muttered, but Daphne only raised her eyebrows knowingly, and he found himself yielding like a fool. "Well, yes... probably."

For some reason, the admission didn't actually crush his lungs as he had expected.

(He then thought the sigh had actually been responsible for that: let's give credit where credit is due.)

"Mm..." Daphne seemed lost in thought for a while. "Well, the only advice I can give you is to sort out your feelings."

Feelings. Those weren't feelings. They were a trick: a traitorous, disgusting trick of his brain that made him want to throw up.

"There are no feelings to sort out. I don't feel anything for her." Sebastian averted his eyes. "Nothing real, at least," he mumbled the last bit, turning his head away from the blonde girl. It was a terrible large word for such a small muscle.

"Well, that's great, for now. But if you do at some point — or if you two become friends in the future — really put some thought into it. After all, you can't rule the heart." She winked at him as Professor Grubbly Plank began her lesson.

You can't rule the heart. Sebastian knew this all too well and yet seriously wished he could. Especially at that moment.

"Was your crush unrequited?" Daphne added musingly as she got her book out of her bag, and his breath caught in his throat. He had, for a moment, settled down in that peaceful certainty that was a closed conversation.

Logic was broken again.

"Why... Why is that so important?" he asked, reproaching himself for his ridiculous stutter.

"It must have been if your brain is looking for a replacement."

“I do nothing of the sort,” he spat defensively, as if Daphne’s words had moved past that alcove and directly touched his nerves. He turned to glare at her, but she just shrugged and acquiesced to his words without arguing. That unbalanced him, like missing a step and feeling the void under your stomach.

Under normal circumstances, he would have been deeply offended by the girl’s assumptions, yet for some reason, he was relieved by her utter lack of judgement about his insane situation.

“All right, I’m just saying. Be careful," she resigned and proudly showed him her assignment sketch of a Bowtruckle, as if the conversation had never happened. Despite everything, he snorted at the sight.

“I’m impressed. It looks almost different from a twig,” he said, pointing at its head, and she slapped his arm with her book.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

The day had gone better than he had imagined, and the next day started just as well, only with a bigger breakfast. This time, both Daphne and Tracey sat next to him, and that mere action made him feel normal again. (And there were no dry pancakes this time, Sebastian noted happily)

Ron and Hermione had stopped him right after he left the Great Hall to give him his textbooks for the day.

“McGonagall asked us to get these for you. They’re a bit worn down, but they will do. I hope.” Hermione had said.

Transfiguration class went by quite smoothly, and McGonagall was more of a capable teacher than he was willing to admit. He grinned in victory when he was the only one to have Vanished his mice completely by the end of the lesson.

“Oh, come on. You can’t be serious.” Daphne complained, holding up a slithery mouse tail. “There’s no way you managed to do that before me. Beginner’s luck,” she sulked.

“Next time, you should start from the tail,” he snickered proudly.

“Next time, I’ll Vanish your mouth, Sallow.”

After that came two whole hours of Potions, and Sebastian was curious if the rumours about Snape being strict and — quote — a bully were true (the rumours being Ron Weasley).

He entered the class, careful to keep an eye on you, just in case you had the bright idea to sit next to him, and basically sprinted to one of the square tables that already seemed too crowded for you to attempt to follow him.

Unfortunately, his planning was as bad as ever because he ended up banging his hands on the table to avoid crashing into it, inhaling some of the dust and erupting into a coughing fit that momentarily broke his focus. When he noticed the bright red hem of your uniform right next to him, it was already too late.

"’Morning," you smiled politely at him, and he forced himself to smile back, certain that he could not have mustered a better expression than one that said, 'I'm going to puke.'

To be fair: the dungeons were quite humid, and that, mixed with the various strong smells of potions and ingredients — and the dust still lingering at the back of his mouth — was not helping.

“‘Morning,” he said, making his voice as clear as the ceiling of the Great Hall. The thought of being mocked by Daphne Greengrass again surpassed any social etiquette in the proper tone to use. You, however, seemed totally unfazed.

He assumed that being around blaring Gryffindors every day must have attuned your ears to withstand ultrasounds by now.

“How was your first day? I forgot to ask yesterday.”

Yeah, you walked right past me. Did you remember that, at least? he almost said.

“Not bad at all. I had only three classes, though,” he shrugged nonchalantly. The fact that you didn't even stop to talk to him and ask how he was doing was not bothering him.

Maybe it was mildly upsetting, like waiting all day to explore the Highlands and then being stopped by a sudden rain.

Perhaps just a little annoying, like receiving an A instead of an E on an essay one had worked on for days.

But not bothersome. That would mean he cared, and he didn't.

You nodded and began setting your ingredients on the table. “What about today?”

He had to force himself not to care then. Force himself to suppress the sudden, prideful fluttering in his chest. He decided he was going to check the dorms that night: there were definitely a few moths or flies nestling around that he had accidentally swallowed while sleeping.

"McGonagall, first two periods."

You gave him a sweet smile that made his stomach tighten, and before he could stop himself, the moths fluttered and he blurted out, "I was actually the only one to master the Vanishing Spell today."

You seemed to be caught off guard, and he saw Daphne stifle a laugh out of the corner of his eye. For a moment, he didn't quite grasp what he did wrong. Then, like a cannonball he felt his cheeks warm up, as if his body had caught up before his brain.

Because he had just shamelessly bragged about himself like a first-year learning the Levitation Charm for the first time.

"Cool." Your voice was about an octave higher as you nodded at him, unsure how to respond to his statement. He bit the inside of his cheek, and wished the Giant Squid would burst through the window and snatch him away to make him its lunch. He definitely needed to check the dorms.

"W-what about you?" he asked instead, knowing that not even the Squid would show him mercy at this point.

(He suspected it would laugh at him, too.)

“Two free periods. I caught up on homework a bit.” You shrugged off your robe and neatly placed it with the others in a corner of the classroom closest to your worktable. “Hogwarts Professors do love an essay, don’t they? Feels like I haven’t stopped writing since the year started. It wouldn’t have surprised me if they asked us to write one right on the train.”

He grinned. “Seems like I have a lot to catch up on.”

“If you’re lucky, they’re going to spare you. I can’t believe I still need to work on my essay on Gillyweed; I thought I might spend the evening—”

Just like that, a tall Gryffindor boy came sitting on your right, and Sebastian watched as you faltered, pausing your hand mid-air. You were holding a handkerchief in which you had wrapped your Erumpent tongue: It never made it to the table's surface.

“Hi,” said the boy politely, flashing you a smile that you returned immediately.

“Hi,” you breathlessly replied, finally setting the wrap down and wiping your hands on your cardigan, taking a deep breath. Sebastian waited for you to continue your sentence, but it seemed like your conversation with the Slytherin was the last thing on your mind at that moment.

“Is this seat taken?”

What happened later felt more like a warm rush to his forehead, which quietly manifested into a frown. Why was he bothering asking if he had already put his stuff down?

But you didn’t seem to notice.

“Not at all — you can have it.” You stuttered a bit.

He watched this whole interaction with his mouth open, noticing the small smile dancing on your lips as you stole glances at the boy, and he did the same. They said looks could kill, and those gazes felt indeed like tiny stabbings all over his skin.

He met Daphne’s gaze, and she gave him a knowing look, hiding a smirk. His jaw set, and he mouthed, “Don’t start.”

“Today, you will be brewing the Babbling Beverage,” Snape said, forcing Sebastian to look away from the pathetic and horrifying scene next to him. “It’s fairly easy to grasp and should be a piece of cake for students who are supposed to be at Ordinary Wizarding Level, but I’m sure even then, some of you will encounter difficulties if so to speak.” He shot Neville a smug glance, and the boy seemed to shrink into himself. Malfoy snickered.

“Instructions are on the blackboard. You may begin.”

He saw you take out your textbook and search in your bag for — something you probably didn’t find. Groaning, you took out your quill and ink and began scribbling the instructions on the book, crossing ingredients and numbers, adding arrows and switching passages. That took you a whole five minutes before you closed your book and got to work.

He added Alihotsy leaves as his water simmered, and you did the same after a few minutes, glancing at what seemed to be a watch. The leaves had to stew in water for twenty minutes, so he got closer to you out of curiosity.

“Is that a watch on your wrist?” he asked, leaning over your shoulder as you were reading the time. It was worn and a little chipped on the sides, the hands wavering between seconds passing.

“It’s a wristwatch. Do wizards not use them?”

Wizards definitely used watches (he himself carried a pocket watch at all times), but he had never seen them worn as a bracelet.

“It looks fancy.”

You snickered. “Nothing fancy about it. I actually bought it for a cheap price."

That would explain the painfully slow pace of the hands.

"I can see it's barely moving at all," he smirked.

"I know," you stifled a small chuckle. "You could say it’s dying on my watch.”

Sebastian paused then, with a quiet buzz in his brain. There was a moment of realisation on his part before he found himself snorting, insides twisting and cringing at your terrible joke.

And the best part (the absolutely amazing part of it all) was that he would have had the same idea had he been in your place. A lousy, dreadful pun that would make anyone's chest shrivel in embarrassment. And yet he loved it.

"Merlin, that was awful!" He tried to hide the absolute joy on his face. Anyone else — Ominis, Anne, her — would either dismiss or ignore him when he made jokes like that, and rarely laugh. And there you were. It was you saying it, and it was you laughing at it. And it was him feeling warm all over again.

So different. How could you be so different?

"And yet you laughed. That says more about you than it does about me."

It did indeed say a lot about him, Sebastian acquiesced to that, and yet when you turned to smile at him, he froze. And if he hadn't caught a glimpse of your clock, still feebly moving, he would have thought time had too.

Sebastian hadn't realised how close the two of you actually were. He hadn't realised if it happened when he leaned to look at the watch. Or if he got even closer as he laughed.

His vision blurred for a second and his delusional, twisted mind screamed at him to lean in, and lean in, and lean in, because it was her, after all. He could just do it, just to put an end to those fluttering feelings that have been eating at him for months.

And he did. Just a little, enough to feel your breath touch the side of his face. Enough to notice the stray thread coming loose from the shoulder of your cardigan. Enough to notice every fleck of colour in your eyes.

Your eyes.

So different.

It wasn't her.

The rational part of his brain tightened the reins of his body, stopping him immediately like an abrupt braking, and he took a step back, almost stumbling backwards, heart hammering in his chest.

If you were her, you wouldn't have made a joke like that. It just wasn't her personality, he reasoned.

And yet, he wished it was. He wished he could mould the two of you together and keep you both with him. Then he forced himself out of his fantasy: the last thing he needed was to lose his grip on reality more than he had on his own life.

He decided to just sort out his ingredients while he waited, trying to stop the blush from spreading across his face.

He didn't look back at you to see your expression.

"Well, it could have been better." He eyed his potion gloomily. It was dark pink and definitely didn't smell like bubblegum, as it should have, not like yours. He glanced at your cauldron, which was filled with bright red liquid: a perfect job. His shoulders slumped.

“Mm, not bad,” said Daphne as soon as she was beside him. “You were supposed to stir five times before adding Leech Juice, not six.”

“I got distracted," he muttered, sending you a glance. You had asked the other boy — whose name was ‘Dean’ as he heard you say more times than he can count (you had only said his name twice, but it was twice too much for Sebastian’s taste) — to grab you a pair of Billywig stings that were drying in a basket beside him and that you couldn’t reach yourself. You could’ve asked him. He had some spare stings as well — maybe not as many as Dean, he admitted, but enough for both of you.

“Right, right, by your ‘not-crush’ and her… ‘yes-crush’?”

“She doesn’t have a crush.”

“Right, she doesn’t. And it’s definitely not requited either,” Daphne remarked sarcastically, looking at you and the boy chatting merrily. Sebastian thought he might throw up in his cauldron and create a whole different brew altogether.

“Just because they’re chatting doesn’t mean there are romantic feelings involved.” He stirred the potion again in frustration, and the mixture turned purple. He cringed. Thank Merlin, he had already filled a phial to hand Professor Snape.

“Come on, I’ve been in this school longer than you, and everyone knows something is going on between her and Thomas. They’ve been at it since last year.”

“She called him ‘Dean’ before.” He frowned, his stomach churning painfully. Maybe you hadn’t asked him for his Billywig stings because he had eaten them without realising.

“Yes, Dean Thomas,” the blonde rolled her eyes. “You should’ve seen the look on his face when you got close to her to ‘look at her watch’.”

“I was really looking at the watch.”

“Yeah, well. It was priceless either way.”

He felt a wave of pride strike from inside him, but he forced it back down almost immediately. Sebastian wasn’t here to date, and if you and Dean Thomas had something going on, then so be it. He didn’t care, anyway. He didn’t care that you had just lightly punched the boy’s arm, laughing at something he had said (Was he that funny?), or that he had asked you if you could study together this evening (So graceful), or that you had said ‘Yes’ and he had told you to meet him in the Library (That was his brand).

Sebastian had promised himself to stay away from you, and that’s exactly what he was planning to do.

But he had also promised himself to catch up on his studies, so how bad could it be if he ‘followed’ you there?

And the Library was a public place, open to any student, so how bad could it be if he accidentally sat near your table? Or at it?

“Please, don’t.” Daphne’s voice brought him back.

“Don’t what?”

“Follow her to the Library tonight. That would be pathetic. And stop staring , it’s creepy.”

Sebastian just wanted Daphne to stop walking around him and hitting all the right spots. Was she a Legilimens or what?

“I—I wasn’t planning to.” His face flushed with his lie, and he sighed deeply again. “I just... I mean, I need to study too. And I wasn’t staring.”

Daphne sighed, dropping the subject. He suspected she thought it was no use arguing with him. He was actually glad for that reasoning.

"Come on. We still have another hour to go through. Try to pay attention.” She said tiredly.

You had left the class with the Gryffindor that day, leaving Sebastian absolutely fuming like his messed up potion he had half a mind to dump into Dean's morning pumpkin juice.

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