#and he’s all like “you’re joking’’ and ace just shakes his head no

[moikey-croikey]

tw: suicide jokes and/or suicide (like a character saying they would kts if something like happened to them)

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deuce: your mom and dad must be worried sick!

ace: my mom is gone

deuce: uh… what about your dad?

ace: i don’t have one, he’s a criminal

deuce: well that’s nothing! you don’t have anything to complain about, i mean as long your dad isn’t GOLD ROGER!

ace:

deuce: like i would kill myself if that were my dad. he’s evil and rotten, omg thankfully he’s gone yk?

me:

[rmayuscula]

age gap autumn girl fuck you

[solxamber]

Hello, I love your writing! The isekai fics are so fun, Vil's was my favorite! Can I request the twst boys (+ staff if you have inspiration for it) comforting a reader who just breaks down in tears after the seventh overblot is resolved because they haven't had much support and time to process being in a new world away from everything they've ever known, were basically told to play therapist by Crowley, and have had their life and their friends lives at risk. Lots of angst but mostly comfort in the end! Thank you if you write this!

7th Overblot Aftermath

Characters: All NRC + Staff

hi! and thank you so much 🫶 vil was the first one I wrote I'm glad you liked it. I love this request and I hope you like it <3

The aftermath of Malleus’s overblot felt surreal. The sky had cleared, but the air was still heavy with the weight of what had just happened. It was over. Finally over. You had seen seven overblots now, each one pushing you and your friends to the edge, forcing you to confront darkness that shouldn’t have existed in people you had come to care for.

But this one had felt different. Maybe it was because of the sheer power Malleus wielded, or maybe it was because of how fragile the world around you had seemed as you fought to bring him back. You had nearly lost him—nearly lost everyone. And you were so, so tired.

Your knees gave out, hitting the ground with a soft thud. You stared at the grass beneath you, eyes blurring with unshed tears. Everyone was celebrating the victory, but all you could think about was the sheer exhaustion gnawing at your bones, the burden of playing mediator, therapist, and survivor all at once. You hadn’t signed up for this. You had been thrown into this world without warning, away from everything you had ever known, and you hadn’t had a moment to breathe since.

“I’m so tired…” you whispered, the words slipping out before you could stop them.

And then it all came crashing down. The walls you had so carefully built around yourself crumbled, and before you knew it, tears were streaming down your face. Quiet at first, but then the sobs came harder, your shoulders shaking as you finally let yourself break.

You barely registered footsteps approaching until a pair of hands rested gently on your shoulders.

Ace Trappola

"Hey, hey," Ace’s voice broke the silence, softer than you’d ever heard it before. “What’s wrong? You’re... crying.”

You hiccuped, trying to suppress the sobs that wouldn’t stop coming. Ace was never one for emotional moments—at least, not the serious kind. He usually joked his way out of anything too heavy, but right now, he seemed out of his depth.

“C’mon, don’t cry,” he mumbled, his voice awkward but concerned. “We’ve been through worse, right? I mean, we beat Malleus of all people. If we can get through that, we can get through anything.”

He crouched beside you, his hand patting your shoulder in an attempt to be comforting, though he was clearly fumbling. “Just… talk to us, okay? We’re here. You don’t have to keep everything inside.”

You shook your head, not trusting your voice, but the tears kept coming. Ace sighed, running a hand through his hair, clearly unsure of what else to say, but he stayed close, his presence enough to remind you that you weren’t alone.

Deuce Spade

Deuce knelt down beside you, his expression full of concern. His hand hovered over your back, unsure whether to touch you, as if he was afraid of making things worse. He eventually settled on patting your back gently, his voice unsteady but earnest.

“It’s okay,” Deuce whispered, his usual tough demeanor nowhere to be found. “It’s gonna be okay. We’re all here for you. I—I didn’t realize how much you’ve been going through.”

His face was a mix of worry and guilt, as if he felt bad for not noticing sooner. “You don’t have to do everything on your own anymore. You’ve been looking out for us this whole time, and I… I didn’t see how much that’s been hurting you.”

You couldn’t respond, your throat tight with emotion. Deuce, seeing your tears still falling, gently shifted closer, offering the only comfort he knew how: his presence. “We’re friends, right? And friends help each other. So… let us help you, okay?”

Riddle Rosehearts

Riddle appeared beside you, his normally rigid posture softer now. He knelt down, placing a hand on your arm, his touch surprisingly tentative. He looked at you for a moment, eyes filled with unspoken regret before he spoke.

“I should have seen how much you’ve been carrying,” Riddle began, his voice uncharacteristically gentle. “You’ve been through so much—more than any of us realized. I’m sorry I didn’t notice sooner.”

His words were measured, careful, as if he was trying not to overwhelm you. “I’ve been so focused on maintaining order, on fixing things after my own mistakes, that I failed to recognize how much weight you’ve been holding on your own.”

He sighed softly, guilt clear in his voice. “You’ve been our support through everything, but you’ve had no one to lean on yourself. That’s not fair to you, and it’s not something you should have had to do alone.”

Riddle stayed close, his hand still resting on your arm, offering comfort in the only way he knew how—through quiet sincerity.

Trey Clover

Trey crouched down beside you, his presence calm and steady, like always. He didn’t say anything at first, just rested a hand gently on your shoulder, waiting for your sobs to slow. He wasn’t one for grand gestures or overly emotional words, but he didn’t need them. His quiet support spoke volumes.

“You’ve been doing a lot for everyone,” Trey said softly, his voice low and warm. “More than anyone should have to. It’s okay to feel overwhelmed.”

He offered you a tissue, waiting patiently as you wiped your face, though the tears kept coming. Trey’s hand stayed on your shoulder, a grounding weight.

“You don’t have to keep everything bottled up,” he continued, his tone gentle. “We’re all in this together, you know? If you need a break, if you need someone to listen… we’re here. I’m here.”

There was no judgment in his voice, no impatience, just the quiet assurance that he’d be there for you whenever you needed.

Cater Diamond

Cater slid down beside you, his usual carefree smile nowhere in sight. Instead, his eyes were soft with concern as he pulled out a tissue and handed it to you.

“Y’know, it’s okay to break down sometimes,” Cater said quietly, watching as you wiped your face. His voice was unusually subdued, and for once, there was no joking, no lightheartedness to deflect from the situation.

“We’ve all been through a lot,” he continued, “but I think you’ve been carrying more than the rest of us. Crowley’s been dumping all this stuff on you, expecting you to handle everything, but you shouldn’t have to. Not alone.”

Cater leaned back slightly, his expression thoughtful. “You’ve been the glue holding us together. But who’s been holding you together, huh?”

You let out a shaky breath, trying to answer, but the tears just kept coming. Cater didn’t push. He just sat beside you, his presence steady, offering you the space to cry without judgment.

“It’s okay to let it out,” he said, his voice soft. “We’ve got you now.”

Leona Kingscholar

Leona crouched down next to you, his green eyes narrowing as he took in the sight of your trembling form. He let out an exasperated sigh, as if annoyed by the situation—not by you, but by everything you’d been forced to endure.

“Ugh, this is exactly why I hate people like Crowley,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. “Always dumping stuff on others and never dealin’ with the mess themselves.”

He placed a heavy, warm hand on your back, his grip firm but comforting. “Listen, you ain’t weak for feelin’ like this. You’ve done more than enough, and I don’t blame you for breakin’ down. Hell, anyone else would’ve lost it way before you did.”

Leona’s tone softened slightly, his voice low and steady. “You’re tougher than most of the idiots I know. So, stop thinkin’ you gotta do everything yourself. Just rest already.” He grumbled something under his breath about humans overworking themselves, but stayed close by, a quiet, protective presence.

Ruggie Bucchi

Ruggie hunkered down next to you, his usual cheeky grin replaced by something much softer. He clicked his tongue, shaking his head lightly. “Sheesh, you really let all that pile up on ya, huh?”

He gave you a light nudge with his elbow, playful but careful. “Look, you don’t gotta carry everything by yourself, ya know? I get it—you’re tough. But even tough people gotta take a break now and then, yeah?”

Ruggie’s eyes gleamed with empathy, his voice taking on a gentle, comforting tone you didn’t hear often from him. “Life’s been a little unfair to ya, huh? I mean, Crowley dumpin’ all that responsibility on you… it’s not right. But you’re here, and you’re still standin’, even after all that.”

He flashed you a small, reassuring smile. “But you don’t gotta stand alone. You’ve got us now. Lemme know if you need a break—I’ll hustle for the both of us.” Ruggie winked, his familiar mischievousness flickering back into his expression, but the concern in his eyes remained genuine.

Jack Howl

Jack’s ears twitched as he knelt down beside you, his tail swaying slowly with a sense of unease. He wasn’t great with words, but the sight of you breaking down hit him harder than he expected. “Hey,” he began softly, his voice gruff but sincere. “You’ve been through a lot, haven’t you?”

His hand hovered awkwardly for a second before settling firmly on your shoulder. Jack wasn’t sure how to help, but he wanted to—more than anything. “I know you’ve been strong… probably stronger than anyone should have to be. But it’s okay to let it out.”

He shifted slightly, trying to find the right words. “I… I know how it feels to be away from everything familiar. To feel like you don’t have anyone to lean on. But that’s not true. You’ve got me. You’ve got all of us.”

His grip on your shoulder tightened briefly, like he was silently reassuring you of his support. “You don’t have to face all of this alone. We’re here for you. And I’m not gonna let anything happen to you—or anyone else.”

Azul Ashengrotto

Azul approached you cautiously, his usual calm and collected demeanor faltering as he saw you crumbling under the weight of everything. His steps were slow, calculated, but there was an unusual tightness in his chest. He knelt down beside you, his expression torn between concern and his usual polished facade.

“You’ve… been carrying quite the burden, haven’t you?” he asked softly, though there was a certain edge to his voice, almost as if he was angry—at the world, at Crowley, at everything that had led to this moment.

His hand hovered over your shoulder for a moment before he rested it gently, almost hesitantly. “I won’t lie to you,” he continued, his voice quieter now. “I’ve always admired how capable you are. But no one should be expected to handle what you have. Crowley’s negligence… it’s unacceptable.”

Azul glanced away briefly, his sharp gaze softening. “But you’re not alone anymore. You have us. You have me. And I promise, I won’t let anyone take advantage of you again—not without consequence.”

There was a sincerity in his words that Azul rarely revealed, a vulnerability hidden beneath his usual polished exterior. “You don’t have to keep being strong on your own. Allow yourself to lean on someone else for once.”

Jade Leech

Jade knelt gracefully beside you, his usual serene smile gone, replaced with a look of quiet concern. His movements were slow, deliberate, as though he was gauging how best to approach the situation. “My, you’ve been holding this all in for quite some time, haven’t you?” he asked, his voice as smooth as ever, but with an underlying warmth that was rare for him.

He placed a gentle hand on your shoulder, his fingers light but reassuring. “You’ve done more than anyone could ask of you. It’s no surprise that you feel overwhelmed.”

Jade’s gaze flickered over your trembling form, his mismatched eyes studying you carefully. “It’s a great deal of responsibility to bear, especially in a world so far from your own. But… you’re not alone.”

There was a softness in his tone that you didn’t expect, his usual composed demeanor shifting. “You’ve been strong for everyone else. Now, allow yourself to rest. Let us take care of things for a while. You’ve certainly earned it.”

He smiled gently, his hand still resting on your shoulder, steady and reliable. “And do not worry. Should anyone try to take advantage of your kindness again, they will have me to deal with.”

Floyd Leech

Floyd approached you in his typical loose, carefree stride, but when he saw the state you were in, his usual playful grin vanished. His steps quickened, and before you knew it, he was crouched down right in front of you, his mismatched eyes widening in genuine concern. “Whoa, hey, hey! What’s this?” he asked, tilting his head as he examined your tear-streaked face.

Without hesitation, he pulled you into a tight hug—so sudden and fierce that it left you breathless for a second. “You can’t cry like this, Shrimpy. It doesn’t suit you,” he said, his voice unusually soft, though still carrying that familiar teasing edge.

Floyd squeezed you tighter, his long arms wrapping around you like a lifeline. “If things are bad, you should’ve just told me. I’d go squeeze the life outta Crowley for you—he deserves it.” He chuckled, but his grip didn’t loosen, like he was afraid you might fall apart if he let go.

He leaned back slightly, still holding you close. “You don’t gotta be strong all the time, you know? You’re my friend, and I don’t let my friends break down alone. So, whenever you feel like this, just come find me. I’ll squeeze the sadness right outta ya.” His words, though playful, carried a weight of sincerity that made your heart ache a little less.

Vil Schoenheit

Vil stood before you, his expression unreadable, though his eyes held a rare softness. “You’ve let yourself reach this point of exhaustion,” he sighed, shaking his head slightly. “It’s not your fault, but you shouldn’t have been forced to carry this burden alone.”

He knelt beside you, his touch gentle but firm as he took your hand. “You’ve been strong for so long, but even the strongest need time to recuperate. Don’t mistake vulnerability for weakness. It takes great strength to admit you need help.”

Vil brushed a stray tear from your cheek, his voice dropping to a softer tone. “You’ve given so much of yourself, but now, it’s time to prioritize your own well-being. I won’t let you neglect yourself any longer. Remember, even a diamond can crack if too much pressure is applied.”

Rook Hunt

Rook’s eyes sparkled with emotion as he knelt gracefully beside you, his usual exuberance tempered by an uncharacteristic stillness. “Ah, mon ami, you have been carrying such a heavy heart all this time,” he whispered, his voice a melodic lilt.

He placed a hand on your shoulder, his touch light, almost reverent. “To be in a world so foreign, surrounded by danger, yet still you’ve stood tall… such beauty in your strength. But even the most resilient soul must rest.”

Rook smiled warmly, leaning closer as if to share a secret. “Let us lift this burden from your shoulders, together. You are not alone. I, too, am by your side, always watching, always ready to catch you should you stumble.”

Epel Felmier

Epel crouched down next to you, his face tight with concern. He scratched the back of his head awkwardly, not used to comforting others but determined nonetheless. “You shouldn’t have had to go through all this,” he muttered, his country drawl creeping into his voice. “Crowley’s a real piece of work, throwin’ all that on ya.”

He reached out, offering a hand in his own shy way. “You’ve been tougher than most, and I admire that. But that don’t mean you gotta keep it all bottled up. It’s okay to feel this way. We’re all here for ya, and I’m not lettin’ anyone mess with you anymore.”

Epel’s expression softened, his voice gentler now. “You’ve got us, so don’t think you’re alone in this. We’ll face it all together.”

Kalim Al-Asim

Kalim immediately rushed to your side, concern written all over his face. “Oh no! You’ve been carrying all this by yourself? Why didn’t you tell me?” he exclaimed, kneeling down and grabbing your hands with both of his, his usual exuberance tempered by a rare sincerity.

He gave you a bright, reassuring smile. “You’ve been so strong for everyone else, but it’s okay to take a break. You don’t have to do everything alone—you’ve got us! And I promise, from now on, we’re all going to make sure you’re okay too.”

Kalim’s warm eyes sparkled with optimism. “Let’s go celebrate once you feel better! Something fun and happy—just to take your mind off everything. I’ll plan the best party ever, and you can just relax, okay?”

Jamil Viper

Jamil crouched down beside you, his dark eyes watching you carefully, as if assessing your every emotion. He sighed softly, his voice low and calm. “You’ve been under more pressure than anyone should have to deal with, and none of it was your fault.”

He rested a hand on your shoulder, his touch firm and grounding. “You shouldn’t have had to bear all this alone, but you don’t have to anymore. I understand what it’s like to carry more than you should.”

Jamil’s eyes softened, though his expression remained calm and composed. “From now on, you can rely on us. I won’t let things spiral out of control again, and I won’t let Crowley push you to your limits anymore. You deserve to take a step back and breathe.”

Idia Shroud

Idia stood awkwardly at a distance at first, his usual nervous fidgeting even more pronounced as he saw you breaking down. He hesitated before kneeling beside you, keeping his hands to himself. “I, uh… I get it,” he muttered, voice quieter than usual. “Feeling like the world’s too much to handle? Yeah, I’ve been there.”

He shifted uncomfortably but spoke with genuine understanding. “You’ve been through way more than anyone should. And, uh, it’s okay to not be okay. You don’t have to act like everything’s fine all the time.”

Idia’s blue flames flickered a bit brighter as he added, “If you need to… y’know, not deal with everything, I’ve got games and stuff to help you chill out. No judgment. Just… take it easy, okay?”

Ortho Shroud

Ortho hovered closer, his usual upbeat tone shifting to something far more gentle. “You’ve done so much, and I know it’s been really hard on you,” he said softly, his mechanical voice somehow conveying warmth.

He floated down beside you, his small hand resting lightly on your shoulder. “But you’re not alone anymore! You’ve got big brother and me, and we’ll help you through everything. You don’t have to carry all this by yourself.”

Ortho gave you a bright smile, his eyes glowing softly. “Let me help you feel better! We can work together, and you can lean on us whenever you need to.”

Malleus Draconia

Malleus approached you slowly, his imposing presence softened by the genuine concern in his eyes. He knelt gracefully beside you, his voice low and soothing. “You have been through much, more than anyone should bear. It is no wonder you feel as though the weight is too much.”

He extended a hand, his fingers brushing gently against your arm. “You are not alone in this world. I understand what it is to feel isolated, but you have friends, and you have me.”

Malleus’s gaze softened further, his voice almost a whisper. “I am here for you, as are the others. Rest now, and let us share in your burden. No harm shall come to you as long as I stand by your side.”

Lilia Vanrouge

Lilia floated down beside you with a lightness that contrasted the gravity of the situation. His usual playful demeanor faded, replaced by quiet empathy. “Ah, little one,” he murmured, his voice soft and filled with affection. “You’ve been carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders.”

He rested a hand gently on your head, giving it a comforting pat. “You’ve done well, more than anyone could have asked of you. But now, it’s time to let go of some of that burden. There’s no shame in needing help.”

Lilia smiled gently, his eyes twinkling with warmth. “You’re not alone, not anymore. We’ll protect you. You can lean on us when you need to.”

Silver

Silver knelt beside you, his calm eyes filled with quiet understanding. “You’ve been strong for a long time,” he said softly, his voice low and soothing. “But you don’t have to be strong all the time.”

He placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder, his touch steady and grounding. “It’s okay to let yourself feel overwhelmed. It doesn’t mean you’re weak—it means you’ve been through too much.”

Silver’s eyes softened as he spoke. “You have friends here, people who care about you. You can rely on us. I’ll be here, watching over you, so you can rest.”

Sebek Zigvolt

Sebek approached you with his usual fervor but hesitated when he saw your tears. His sharp voice softened, though it still carried his typical intensity. “Human! You have been through much, but you must remember—you are not alone in this!”

He stood tall beside you, his green eyes blazing with determination. “You have shown strength, but it is not weak to ask for help! Lord Malleus would never allow you to suffer alone, and neither will I!”

Sebek crossed his arms, standing like a guardian at your side. “You are under the protection of Lord Malleus, and by extension, my protection! No harm will come to you now.”

Crowley

Crowley fluttered over, his usual flamboyant demeanor subdued as he saw your distress. “Ah, my dear prefect,” he began, wringing his hands nervously. “It seems that perhaps I’ve… placed more on your shoulders than I should have.”

He knelt beside you, his expression uncharacteristically somber. “You’ve done so much for this school, more than anyone could have asked of you. And for that, I owe you a great debt.”

Crowley’s voice softened, uncharacteristically sincere. “But now, it’s time for me to take some responsibility. You’ve more than earned your rest. From now on, I’ll make sure you have the support you need.”

Divus Crewel

Crewel knelt beside you, his sharp eyes softened with concern. “You’ve been through hell, pup,” he said, his voice low but firm. “And it’s no surprise that you’re feeling the strain.”

He reached out and adjusted your collar with practiced precision, as if he could fix your emotional state as easily as he could fix your appearance. “You’ve shown remarkable strength, but even the strongest need a break."

Crewel’s voice took on a more gentle tone as he gave your shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “You’re not expected to bear the weight of the world on your own, pup. You’ve more than proven yourself, but now it’s time for you to let others shoulder some of that burden. I won’t allow anyone to exploit your loyalty or determination again.”

He straightened up, his steely demeanor still present but tempered with warmth. “You’ve got me in your corner now. If anyone dares push you to the brink again, they’ll have to deal with me. Understood?”

Mozus Trein

Trein approached slowly, his usual stern expression softened with concern as he adjusted his glasses. “You’ve been under undue stress, haven’t you?” he observed in his deep, calming voice. “No one should be forced to handle such pressure alone.”

He knelt beside you, his demeanor fatherly as he rested a hand on your arm. “This world has not been kind to you, I see that now. But you’ve handled it all with remarkable resilience. However, even the strongest minds and hearts need time to recover.”

Trein sighed deeply, his tone softening further. “I will ensure that you are given that time, without further demands placed on you. You’ve done more than enough.”

Ashton Vargas

Vargas came over with his usual boisterous energy, but seeing you in distress made him pause. His expression softened, and he knelt down beside you. “Hey, hey! What’s all this about, huh?” he said, his voice a bit gentler than usual. “You’ve been holding up the team for too long, I see. That’s a heavy weight, and it’s no wonder you’re feeling tired.”

He placed a strong, reassuring hand on your back. “You’re tougher than you think, but even the toughest need a break sometimes. You’ve done amazing—really! But now, it’s time to rest up and let others carry the load for a bit.”

Vargas smiled warmly, his usual energy tempered with sincerity. “You’ve earned it, champ. We’re not leaving you behind. We’ll get through this together.”

Sam

Sam quietly appeared beside you, his usual playful smile replaced by something softer, more caring. “Well now, looks like you’ve been carryin’ quite the burden, huh?” he said in his deep, smooth voice.

He crouched down next to you, his hand resting on your shoulder with a firm but gentle grip. “You’ve been strong for everyone else, but you can let that go for a bit. No shame in feelin’ overwhelmed.”

Sam’s eyes twinkled kindly, and he gave you a warm smile. “Remember, you’ve got friends, and we’re all here for you. Anytime you need a little pick-me-up, you know where to find me. No more carryin’ this all by yourself, alright?”

Grim

Grim strutted over, his ears twitching as he noticed the tears on your face. “Oi, what’s this?” he huffed, trying to sound nonchalant but clearly concerned. “You’re not supposed to be cryin’. You’re supposed to be tough, like me!”

He hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to handle the situation, before awkwardly patting your arm with his paw. “Uh... stop bein’ all sad, okay? You’ve been through a lot, but you’re still here, right? And that’s ‘cause you’ve got me, the Great Grim! I mean, you’re my henchhuman, so obviously you’re tough enough to handle anything!”

He puffed out his chest, trying to inject some of his usual bravado into the situation. “I’ll take care of things next time! No need to worry. Just... stop cryin’, alright? It’s weird. I’m supposed to be the one gettin’ pampered, not the other way around!”

Despite his tough words, Grim stayed by your side, his tail flicking nervously. “But, y’know, I guess... if you need to cry, that’s fine too. Just don’t tell anyone I said that.”

Masterlist

[kingnem10]

A magicless human, dumped in a world not your own. Your old life, left behind through no choice of your own. Surrounded by villains, all looking at you as a nuisance. Someone due to be stomped out by the strong. A wild cat as your pet, something you’re forced to take care of. A creaky old dorm, the only shelter you’ve been graciously given by your glorious headmage. Nobody looks your way, unless you’re having to solve a problem.

But, a glimmer of hope. The closest thing to comfort in your new life. Deuce Spade, and Ace Trappola. From the Heartslaybul dorm, ruled by the ruthless queen of hearts. Ace and Deuce, slightly abrasive personalities, especially with each other, and yet, they’re your best friends. You feel less alone finally. The trio, quartet if you count your cat Grim, for better or worse, going on adventures. You have their back, and they have yours.

And you needed each others backs when the housewarden of Heartslaybul, Riddle Rosehearts, cracked. Overblotted. Stingy at minimum with the rules, now a full on tyrant, a tyrant intent on destruction. People WILL follow the rules, or off with their heads, and you, the magicless human, are a target.

It was the most terrified you’ve ever been since arriving in this world. It was the first time you felt in complete and utter danger, that you may not get out of this alive.

But, Ace and Deuce had your back, and everyone banded together, defeated Riddle, who returned back to his normal state. Everything after that? A blur. There was crying, there was apologies, there was a special unbirthday party you were invited too, and everyone was smiling, happy.

So…why are you sitting in your bed in Ramshackle, staring at the wall? Shouldn’t you be happy? Why are tears streaming down your face, your body trembling as you bury your face in your hands. You won, go back to your new normal. Everyone else is.

Ace and Deuce were downstairs when they heard your sobbing, freezing when they got near your door, unsure of what to do. Deuce opens the door first, seeing you shaking, crying, vulnerable.

For once, there’s no jokes from Ace. Deuce doesn’t hesitate when he sees you like this. Climbing into your bed, sitting next to you, and hugging you, pulling you closer to him as his touch makes you struggle to breathe.

Grim climbs into the bed next to you. Ace gets a bit closer, closing the door behind him. Deuce whispers in your ear.

“hey…it’ll be ok…it’ll be ok”

You cling to him tighter, desperate to ground yourself, begging for him to please not to leave you alone right now. Ace and Deuce exchange a look to each other. The fear radiating off of you, even to them.

You’re just a human, no magic, no ties to anyone. You don’t belong here, and now? The risk of death is higher than ever before. The only hope, things will get better. That you will find a way home, or find a new home in this world. Until then, smile, just be happy, it’s what the headmage would want anyways.

[mywritersmind]

MEET ME IN THE LIBRARY - LN4

summary : He’s a certified book theif, she’s a perfect distraction. Some sweet interactions between y/n x lando in their college life.

listen up : LANDO NORRIS JOCK FRAT BOY AU🗣️🗣️ guys this was so cutie i love !! i need more romance books also lol. some dirty jokes but that’s about it! the FIA is lando’s frat lol

word count : 4480

⋆｡‧˚⋆

I regret wearing a skirt as I step into the library, the cold temperatures not changing at all. But I'm trying to get in and out quickly. Which is hard while surrounded by books.

I smile at Ms. Finigan, hurrying up the stairs and past favorite section, romance. I sadly walk past, seeing all of my favorite titles call to me.

I find the Shakespeare section and realize that I need to get out of my comfort zone sometimes. I’m scanning the books before I find my next victim. Romeo and Juliet. The overly romanticized book about two idiot pre teens.

I finally think something is going right for me today, until I go to reach for it. Someone next to me reaches over my head and snatches it right out of my reach.

I turn to yell at the man who’s taken my book, but then I realize who it is.

Lando Norris.

Of course, today of all days, he has to be in my way.

He’s devastatingly gorgeous, an insane athlete, and utterly annoying. “You’re Y/n… Right?” I push the fact that I've never introduced myself out of my mind and reach for the book.

He pulls it back, I'm still bookless. And he, with his backwards hat and FIA hoodie, is just peering at me like I'm some zoo animal.

He raises a brow at me as I frown, “Yes. Could I have my book?”

“Your book?”

He’s cocky and arrogant and I’m getting distracted by his eyes. “Yes, My soon to be book if you’d let me have it! Please, Norris. I’m late.”

“Norris?” He eyes me, “Didn’t know you knew who I was.”

“Glad you learned something today!” I reach for the book but he holds it over his head, “I need it!”

“Why do you need it?”

I cross my arms, “Why do you need to know?” Sadly, this doesn’t put him off. A smirk grows on his handsome face.

“Sassy.” He brings the book behind his back but when I reach for it, he just steps closer. I narrow my eyes because what game is he playing? “You’re cute when you’re angry.” Yeah… what the fuck.

I step back, “I'm going to be late, Lando.” He smiles when I say his name, “Why do you need it?”

“Just some light reading.” I frown, trying to think of any way I can get it from him, “I’ll give it to you if you beg for it.”

“Awh.” I fake pout before rolling my eyes and walking away, “I’d rather choke.”

“I know something you can c-” I snap my head around and he honestly looks scared. “Sorry.”

“Sorry? I swear to fucking god Norris, if you’re just screwing me over for fun-” I let out an angry groan and take a deep breath in, reminding myself how bad I need it, “I need it. My professor needs me to have the hardcopy, and I need him to like me because normally all my professors like me and I’ve never failed and he’s the type to fail me because of something like this.” I don’t mean to dump all my thoughts onto him but he doesn’t look fazed.

“Alright, Ace. Should have thought a bit ahead then, huh?” He gives me an annoying look and I suddenly get the urge to slap him.

“You don’t seem like the type to be into Shakespeare.” He almost looks surprised that i’m not falling at his feet.

“I’m not.” He shrugs in the way all frat guys do, and I know he won’t say any more.

I need to cut my losses, “Whatever, I am so late.” I start walking away but he follows.

“Need a ride?”

I eye him, standing in the front steps, “You’ll give me a ride but not that book?” He starts talking again but I just shake my head, not being able to deal with this anymore.

“Come on, wait!”

I keep walking.

“You made me feel bad, Ace!”

So he does have a heart.

“Your loss!”

When I turn back one last time, my middle finger in the air, I see him getting into his immensely expensive Mclaren, and winking at me.

⋆｡‧˚⋆

I make it to my class late, after my professor embarrasses me in front of the whole class because I don’t have my book, I finally finish and make my way back to my apartment. I hear a loud sigh as I walk in. My roommate, Lily Muni He is spread out on the couch and frowning at her laptop, “I'm dropping out.”

“After the day i've had, me too” I go straight to the fridge.

“What happened?”

”Oh you mean spilling my coffee all over my favorite sweater, Lando Norris asking me to beg for it, Or my professor yelling at me in front of my whole creative writing class?” I open my tug of ice cream.

Her jaw drops, “What!?”

“Yeah my new sweater that I spent months saving for-” I dive my spoon into the chocolate and peanut butter mixture before she screams and cuts me off.

“NO! Go back! What do you mean Lando Norris!? Lando Norris asked you to beg for WHAT!?” I plop down on the couch with her.

“Oh. That.” I roll my eyes, thinking back to his dickish moves today. I’ve met him but not in a formal sense, when he was trying to get into the most exclusive frat on campus (FIA) the guys would volunteer at the library I work at to read to kids. Lily claps her hands in front of my face and I snap back to reality.

I tell her the story and while I'm hung up on my poor book, probably in his nasty room, she’s hung up on the fact that Lando offered me a ride in his Mclaren.

“You know, he’s not as bad as everyone makes him out to be.” I don’t believe her, “Seriously! He shared a room with Alex last year and was actually really nice to me. Definitely player vibes but at least he’s a nice one.”

I frown, “Well that’s great for you! But he’s holding my book hostage.”

⋆｡‧˚⋆

“One iced coffee with oat milk please!” I smile and reach into my bag, digging around for my wallet. Okay! no need to panic, I have no wallet but I have apple pay.

Except when I tap my phone, the lady taking my order shakes her head at me, “Declined… Any other way you could pay?”

I sigh, honestly about to walk right out with all of my shame left over. But a familiar arm reaches over me for the second time, handing over a credit card.

“I’ve got it.” Lando fucking Norris. “Good to see you again, Ace.” He shoots me that heartthrob smile before the woman swipes his card and within two minutes, we’re holding drinks.

“You really didn’t have to…” I take my coffee from him as we move out of the way. He sips his matcha latte and smiles.

“It’s no problem. I felt sort of bad that I took your book anyways.” I frown at his words, still angry, “But if you want to repay me back, you can sit with me.”

I don’t know why he wants to. But he bought my eight dollar coffee so who am I to say no?

We sit at the seats facing the window, looking out onto the street that’s covered in orange and brown leaves.

Lando doesn’t talk first, just sips his drink and watches the two dogs at separate tables outside play together.

I don’t know why I say it, but I can’t help myself, “Do you have pets?”

His head turns to me and I realize how curly his mullet really is. No hat or weird gel just makes him more attractive and I fear I'm not mad at it.

“Nah, the house doesn’t allow it. Besides Franco’s weird lizard…” He looks disgusted for a second before looking at me again, “Do you?”

I nod, “A cat.”

“What’s its name?” It’s a bit weird that he’s interested, but I’ll take any chance I get to talk about my child.

“Jo! Like Jo March.” He looks confused, “Little women?” He still looks confused, “Louisa May Alcott…?” When I realize he’s not getting it I nod, “It’s a book.”

“Ah… I don’t know much about those.”

I can’t help but say, “But you know about Romeo and Juliet, right?” He better because I did not get called out just for him to not read it.

“It was for my friend…” He cringes as I scoff, “I’m sorry! He needed it! Uh- Carlos? He’s in your class too I think…”

I swat his arm, “You gave it to someone in my class!? That’s even worse!”

He laughs, “Sorry, not sorry! He asked nicely.”

I eye him, “Oh, and I didn’t?” He shakes his head, his hand going to his hair as his elbow rests against the table. He hides his face in his arms but I can still see his smile.

I roll my eyes, “Well, thanks to you I got humiliated in class!”

“Hey, I bought you coffee, you can’t be mad!” I huff and look back outside, he stays looking at my side profile for a second then joins me in silence.

Silence that is quickly broken by a girls shrill voice, “Lando!” Kill me now. I don’t know what’s about to happen, but I don’t want to be apart of it.

Sadly, I'm not struck down by lightning and have to watch the blonde wrap her arms around Lando. His eyes go wide but when she pulls away, he gives a cool nod.

“Katy.”

“Where’ve you been?” She giggles, not paying any attention to me and resting a hand on his arm, “I’ve missed you.”

Lando glances at me, “Um… around?” She giggles at this again.

“I’ll be at the party on sunday! Me and Rennee!” Lando seems to be overtaken by a coughing fit and I promptly stand, grabbing my bag and coffee.

“Thanks for the coffee, Norris. I gotta go!” He watches me leave, looking like he’s going to say something. But he doesn’t.

⋆｡‧˚⋆

It’s not everyday that a frat car wash happens. But when it does, I know it’s going to be a good one. My friends make me drive, Lily’s next to me and she said she had to support her boyfriend.

Watching twenty shirtless guys grind shirtless on my car is definitely an interesting support system. But hey, i’m not complaining.

I’m crying laughing by the time my car is getting soaped up, Lily is screaming and Alexandra and Francesca are videoing in the back.

Lily bangs on the window, Alex pops up, smiling at her, “Get Lando!” I lunge for her as soon as she says it, “Ah!” She screams as I turn her to me.

“Lily!” The girls in the back are crying now, “Lily no!”

She just giggles, “Too late!” I look to my left to see Oscar (a guy from my chem class) and Lando walking towards the car.

Francesca and Alexandra are watching the man on top of the car but i’m totally and completely zoned in on Lando’s soapy wet abs.

“I hate you.” I say to Lily but she just giggles.

“No you don’t!” Him, Oscar and Alex start basically dry humping my car. I cover my face but Lando slams his hand on the window.

He looks personally offended, a fat grin back on his face. He points to my eyes, then his. I roll my eyes and he sticks his tongue out.

They continue to assault my car and just as I’m wondering why all of them are ripped. Lando gets thrown onto my windshield, being moved around like a rag by Alex and Oscar who are laughing hysterically.

I clap my hands together, honestly admiring his effort, I'm laughing still. I bring my fingers to my lips and whistle as Lando grabs the hose, pouring it on himself.

“Shit!” Lily hits my arm repeatedly as he sprays us.

“You’re ridiculous!” I yell and he laughs at my words.

He just spreads his arms and shrugs, “Only for you, Ace!” His muscles are distracting me. They're even making me gloss over that this is the third time he’s called me ‘Ace’.

He blows me a kiss before running his hand down his body, sticking his tongue out as I shake my head.

“Excuse me!” Francesca yells from behind us, “Are you and Lando Norris, fucking!?”

⋆｡‧˚⋆

LANDOS POV

I’m officially embarrassing myself. “What the fuck are you doing here?” Y/n whisper yells at me as I slide into the seat next to her.

“I had to wait for Carlos anyways so I thought, Hmm I know someone in this class!” The professor starts speaking as she pinches the bridge of her nose.

“You can’t just be here! Why don’t you go sit with Carlos?”

“Well that’s easy, Ace. You’re much prettier than he is.” I don’t miss the blush that finds her cheeks, smiling to myself because I did that. “Saw you at our car wash last week.”

“Have you ever considered a career in the magic mike industry?” She whispers as she moves her pencil across the paper.

I laugh a bit too loud and when the professor calls me on it, I stand and wave, “Sorry, Prof! Won’t. happen again!”

When I sit back down, she gives me a death stare, “Why is it that in the three years I've been at this school, I've had the pleasure of never running into you, but in the past three weeks, I've seen you everywhere?”

“Maybe I just want you to see me now.” I knew her name, she was too pretty to forget but never hung around our group and I was otherwise occupied.

But now that I've actually talked to her, I realize that maybe I like her for more than her killer face.

She doesn’t look up yet, “Did you run out of girls on the campus and I'm the last victim?” I know she thinks I'm a sort of… slut? Town bike? Classic Frat boy?

But honestly is it a crime to enjoy myself?

I know I really enjoy myself with her.

“I’ll let you be anything to me, Ace. Anything except victim, seems like something I’d get kicked out for.” He laughs under her breath, I love when I make her laugh.

“The only thing I am to you, is a way to be distracting.” I grin because she’s exactly right.

“True.” I lean in closer, resting my arm on her chair, “I can think of a lot of ways we can be distracting to this class.”

She elbows my side and when I groan, she eyes me, “Ow!”

She shakes her head and continues listening. I let her for a while, looking at her shoes and avoiding looking at her legs. I fail at the second one and she snaps her fingers in front of my face.

“I won’t let you sit here if you’re gonna be checking me out the whole time.”

I listen to her, scrolling on my phone and making little remarks at what she’s writing, “So you wanna be an author?” she hums in response, “You like to read?” She nods again, “I bet you read smut.”

She hits me again, “Lando!”

“What!? With that reaction, I know I'm right.” she’s blushing again and suddenly all I want is to look at her bookshelf, “No need to be embarrassed we all have our vices.” She covers her face from me and I smile.

⋆｡‧˚⋆

⋆｡‧˚⋆

I down two shots before going to Lando’s frat party. My friends are obsessing over the fact that we were invited but i’m more nervous than I have been in a while.

Francesca is a lion, Lily is princess peach (a couples costume with Alex), Alexandra is a fairy, and the only things I could find were a white dress and wings so i’ve labeled myself as Juliet in the weird ‘modern’ adaptation.

As we walk up, I realize there’s people waiting to get in but Alex waves us to the front. It’s almost immediate when I spot Lando.

I thought I would at least have time for more drinks before I even got close to him. I don’t know why I'm anxious, maybe it’s because Lando is a sort of fun way to take my mind off things.

I don’t think anything of his costume, he just looks like he’s in gray. But as we get closer, I can see the shift in Lando’s face and when he turns to talk to Alex, I see the armor on his arms.

He’s fucking Romeo.

⋆｡‧˚⋆

I’m avoiding him. Simple as that! He tried to say something to me when I arrived but I swerved him and ran after Alexandra.

Someone’s talking to me, I think his name is Liam or something? He’s blonde and dressed like a mouse.

But he’s cute and definitely interested in me.

“Hey!” Lando’s hand goes to Liam’s shoulder, squeezing him tightly, “Pledge! I see you’ve met Y/n.”

Liam’s eyes widen and he scurries away like… well… a mouse. I cross my arms, watching Lando smile as he leaves.

“You’ve been avoiding me, Ace.”

I sip my drink, looking anywhere but him, “No….”

He steps in front of me, way too close, “I like your costume.” His eyes move down my body and I might as well be naked by the way he’s staring at me.

“Yours could use a bit of work, not very accurate.” I lie.

“What, you wanted me to straighten my hair?” I cringe at the idea, “I don’t do well with books, the movie was good.”

I laugh a bit, “You’re a walking stereotype.”

“Oh and you aren’t?” He eyes me, “Nerdy with a big mouth who can’t stop blushing.”

I think about it for a moment and realize he’s right. Lizzie Bennett, Amy Santiago, Hermione granger. Shit why does he know me?

“You’re doing it again.” He pokes my cheek and I know they’re pink, “It’s cute.”

“You’re such a flirt.” He smirks at this, “It’s the jock thing! Is it in your water or something?”

He laughs, taking my hand, “Come dance?” I nod without thinking. He’s still sipping his drink as his hand moves from my hand to my waist.

His touch is soft and he smiles at me under the neon lights. It’s weird that four weeks ago I had all sorts of ideas about him in my head. Now I know him and I sort of love it.

We dance for a while, i’m in a haze of smoke and alcohol when I realize Lando is zoning out.

I touch his arm, leaning closer, “Wanna get some air?” He nods and looks around.

“Come on.” He takes my hand. Lando fucking Norris, grabs my hand and gently guides me through the crowd.

It’s different this time, I don’t know why. But his hand on mine feels more intimate.

He starts walking upstairs and when I pause he looks back, “I have a balcony. Fresh air only, I promise.” I nod and follow, trusting him.

His room is clean, with posters up and multiple photographs hung on the walls. He slides the door open, letting me go first.

I take a deep breath, the cool air washing over me as I lean against the railing, leaning my head back and rebelling in the muffled noise.

I look back up to him, but he’s just staring at me, “You’re beautiful.” It takes me by surprise, like genuine shock runs through me. His eyes widen, almost like he didn’t mean to say that out loud. “I’m-”

“Don’t apologize.” He looks relieved at my words, “Thank you.”

He breathes out, standing next to me, “Thanks for coming. My friend really likes yours- Alexandra, right?”

“Oh!” So that’s why he invited me. “Right, I heard they were hooking up…” He’s acting nervous and fidgety, “Are you okay?”

He nods, “Sorry. I’m kinda drunk and anxious and you’re great but I don’t feel great.” I frown, nodding to walk back inside.

I sit on his bed, pulling off my shoes and crossing my legs. He doesn’t look at me weird, just lays next to me, sighing.

For some reason, he looks so different than the Lando who teased me in a class he snuck into.

Are you really okay, you don’t seem like you’re in the party mood...”

He hums, “I’d rather be up here with you anyways.”

I sigh, “Stop fucking with me.”

He frowns, sitting up a bit, “What?”

“I know we laugh about you being flirty and shit but you’re gonna make me think you like me.” I brush my hair out of my face but I can feel him looking at me.

“Why would I joke about that? I do like you.” Oh.

Oh okay.

So he just drops that fucking bomb then goes into another room to “grab something” ??

I want to slap myself. What the hell is happening.

He walks back in with two waters and a bucket of halloween candy. “You can go back down, by the way.”

“Trying to get rid of me, Norris?” I reach over and grab a twix as he smiles. It makes me feel good that he’s feeling well enough to smile.

“Never, Ace.”

We sit in silence for a bit, eating candy and drinking water like the complete nerds we are. I glance over at him, making sure he’s still awake, “How many girls have you had in this bed?”

He frowns, “You want the real answer?”

“No.” He laughs as I turn to him, crossing my ankles and leaning against the wall, “Why do you call me ace?”

“Why do you think?” When I don’t say anything, he answers hesitatingly, “You went off about your grades and professors liking you. Like you ace everything. And even before that I knew you were smart. But now it’s more because I think you’re pretty close to perfect.”

I think my heart stops. Just then, the look he gives me… like he’s embarrassed or something, “I don’t really know what to say to that.”

“Then don’t say anything.” He lays back down, “What’s your favorite color?” I smile softly as Lando plays with my shoelace.

We sit like this for a while, the party is still in full effect when we get quiet again. I’ve learned about his family, his dreams and school life. I told him about my aspirations, what I've always loved, and what I truly read.

He gets a kick out of the last bit.

He’s feeling better now, I know because his eyes aren’t avoiding me. He’s just looking into my eyes, his are so green and I think I could write an essay about them.

His head knocks against the wall, he’s next to me now, our arms touching as he tilts his head to look at me, “Ace?” He whispers even though it’s just us.

“Hm?”

“I don’t want you to think i’m a slut.”

I smile softly, “I don’t.”

“I want you to like me.”

My heart rate rises, “I do.”

“Don’t lie.”

“I wouldn’t lie to you, Norris. You’re too nosy to believe me anyway.” He laughs at this. Then he gets really quiet.

My eyes flicker to his lips, he does the same. I lean in, so does he. I’m about to close my eyes. He backs away, clearing his throat.

I pull my lips into a thin line, looking away.

And again I think,

What. The. Fuck.

⋆｡‧˚⋆

I’m embarrassed to say that my lack of a kiss with Lando last night, was truly humbling. He’s so confusing.

I mean, he said he liked me! And I go to kiss him and then he just doesn’t? After that awkward moment he mumbled something about joining the group and we went back downstairs.

Lando looked incredibly uncomfortable the rest of the night and I found my way to the tequila way too fast.

I march my way up the library stairs, my headache subsiding after the meditation and water. I don’t really remember anything after Lando and I went downstairs.

I’ve been unable to stop thinking about what happened with us, so i’ve come to my happy place.

I breathe in the smell of the books, drifting my hand against the spines of historical fiction. I make my way to shakespeare.

It’s probably not the best right now because all I can think of is how Lando smelled when he took that book from me. I look up, and see Romeo and Juliet staring back at me.

I reach up and take it from its place, opening it and flipping through the pages. I smile at the words that I've come to like after my class.

I’ve never felt such an all consuming love like Juliet, but I think I understand her just a bit more now.

Someone clears their throat and when I look up, i’m not as shocked as I was all those weeks ago.

Lando Norris.

He's in jeans and a plain white tee. Why does he look so good then?

He slips his hands in his pockets, walking towards me, “I’m sorry.”

I raise a brow because I certainly wasn’t expecting that, “For?”

“I wasn’t lying when I said I like you.” he blushes and I want to tease him but he keeps talking, “But I really didn’t feel like myself last night. And I wanted our first kiss to be the sort of thing you could write in detail.”

A small smile meets my lips as he stands in front of me, my back to the shelves, “You’ve thought about kissing me.”

He rolls his eyes but a smile is on his face, he steps closer and his hand goes to my waist, “You are a distraction.” I laugh a bit, looking up at him innocently.

“Whatever do you mean?” He shakes his head and dips it down to be at my level.

“For real this time… Can I kiss you?” I can’t help but smile.

“Only if you compare me to a summer's day and would be willing to die for m-” He cuts me off with his lips.

My arms wrap around his neck, as I kiss him back. I can feel him smile against my lips. My hand goes to his hair, the other gripping the book.

That damn book that started this all.

He bites my lip a bit before moving back, his breath still on me. “I don’t think I've seen true beauty until I saw you in this library.”

[cloudcountry]

nrc when you dodge their kisses

SUMMARY: The NRC boys try to kiss you, and you dodge. How dare you!

CHARACTERS: All NRC Students

WARNINGS: None!!

COMMENTS: You already know what I'm gonna say. Azul you're gorgeous and I want actually I NEED you to hmu!! I would treat you so right!! Just one kiss please!! You can tell I'm Azul biased and I am not sorry!!

~~~~~

Heartslabyul

Riddle Rosehearts immediately turns as red as his hair. He apologizes profusely for assuming you’d be up for a cheek kiss and you have to resist the urge to hug him. You tell him to calm down, that it was a joke. His relief is evident, but you can tell there’s something else on his mind as he stares at you, so you offer him your cheek again.

Trey Clover apologizes immediately, his cheeks flushed pink. This is one of the only times you’ll ever see him rattled, slightly embarrassed that you’d dodged his display of affection. He shakes it off pretty easily though, much to your chagrin. Smooch him.

Cater Diamond knows what you’re playing at. He holds your face still and gives you two big smooches on your cheeks, telling you he loves you before rushing off to class. He’s going to dodge you the next time you try to kiss him as payback.

Deuce Spade looks heartbroken. He apologizes and vows to ask before doing anything like that next time. He asks if he’s made you uncomfortable or if anything is wrong, and when you tell him it’s a joke he gets so relieved. Don’t scare him like that again!

Ace Trappola whines incessantly. Anyone would be lucky to kiss him and you just dodged him! Like he was chopped liver! Is that what he is to you? Huh!? It’s hilarious because he will not SHUT UP until you give him Two (2) kisses to make up for the one he missed and the time he spent lamenting over it.

Savanaclaw

Leona Kingscholar narrows his eyes and stares at you. You pretend you don’t notice, continuing to walk inside your classroom that he’d so kindly walked you to. Except he doesn’t leave. “Herbivore.” Leona calls, and even though he didn’t touch you, you freeze. “You forgot something.”

Jack Howl assumes you’re not in the mood and shrugs it off. Well, that’s what it would seem like if you weren’t an expert in Jack Howl Communications. His ears are lowered and his tail isn’t wagging as much anymore, and you know it’s because he’s worried. The next time you see him, you cup his face and give him a kiss on the cheek, just to watch him perk up again.

Ruggie Bucchi’s ears flatten almost immediately. He immediately assumes he’s done something wrong and starts bringing you a bunch of snacks to make up for it. He’s laughing on the outside but dying on the inside. He will literally only touch you again when you initiate or until you tell him it’s a joke.

Octavinelle

Azul Ashengrotto wants to run away, and he almost does. The world crashes around him and his mind immediately runs to his octopot and all the mockery he faced and how you are the last person he wants to see him that way. You immediately notice that the small joke hurt his feelings in a way that you never wanted to hurt him, and grab his face to kiss him gently. “I’m sorry honey. You were going to miss.” you murmur as you pull away, rubbing circles on his cheek with your thumb, “Had to make sure you didn’t.”

Jade Leech pretends to be wounded. He refuses to accept any affection from you for the next five hours because you broke his heart so bad. Maybe next time you’ll think before you deny the eel the attention he rightfully deserves!! If you try anything, he’ll dodge it with a “oh, I’m sorry. I’m busy. Come back later.” JADE STOP.

Floyd Leech is another whiner. You dodge his kisses, he’ll pout and whine for hours. No amount of kisses you give him to make up for it will be enough. Ten, fifteen, twenty kisses, on his forehead, cheeks, or lips…won’t be enough. He will hold this over your head.

Scarabia

Kalim Al-Asim blue screens and tries to figure out what he did wrong. He apologizes quickly and asks if you want him to keep his distance from you today. He doesn’t phrase it in a dramatic way like some of the students on this list. Instead, his words are genuine and warm, with only your comfort in mind. He’s very observant so he’ll be able to tell if you really do want your space!

Jamil Viper rolls his eyes and goes about his day. He immediately assumes that you’re playing a prank on him, and he fully intends to do what you did to him but doubled. You lean in for a kiss the next day, he dodges it. You try to hold his hand, he moves it at the last second. Just apologize, he’s so petty.

Pomfiore

Vil Schoenheit narrows his eyes and stares at you. He doesn’t like playing your silly little games and will immediately ask if that's what you’re doing. No matter your response, he rolls his eyes and lets it go. If you want any of his affection, you’re going to have to initiate next time.

Rook Hunt doesn’t realize you’ve dodged until his lips don’t land on yours. He’s already closed his eyes when he stumbles a bit, his eyes flying open in surprise. You stand behind him with a mischievous little smile, and he immediately knows what you’re doing. He cries out some monologue about your cruelty before giving you a forehead kiss.

Epel Felmier narrows his eyes and refuses to give you kisses after that. His ego is hurt and you’re responsible! You’re going to need to promise to never do it again and give him a kiss to make up for it. How dare you make him out to be a fool!

Ignihyde

Idia Shroud wants to crawl into a hole and die. He finally gained the courage to kiss you goodbye for the second time this week, and you dodged him! That was so cringe he thinks he’s going to explode. He only feels a little bit better when you grab his face and kiss him twice - one on each cheek.

Diasomnia

Malleus Draconia is frozen, his eyes wide with surprise. You’ve always been receptive to his advances, and now that you’re not he doesn’t know what to do. Recovering quickly, he smirks and looks you dead in the eye. “I suppose you’re avoiding my affection today? Fine. I shall fulfill your wishes, Child of Man.”

Sebek Zigvolt jumps away, his face flaming red. He immediately starts yelling about how he wasn’t trying to give you a forehead kiss, he was just checking over your shoulder to make sure nobody was about to attack you! Cup his cheek and kiss his forehead - watch him get even redder.

Silver blinks slowly before nodding, telling you he understands and he hopes you have a good lesson. Assuming you want your distance, Silver doesn’t initiate any affection for the rest of the day unless you give him explicit permission.

Lilia Vanrouge follows your dodge and lands a kiss on you anyway. He laughs loudly at your surprise, booping you on the nose before practically bouncing off to his next class. If you want to give him a kiss, he’s going to dodge and stick his tongue out at you now.

[imasimpforshanks]

how they respond to you asking “would you follow me anywhere?”

ft. Luffy, zoro, sanji, law, shanks, ace

a/n: so this is based on the TV series scandal where Abby and Olivia are kind of fighting and Abby says “I would follow you over a cliff” and then I’ve seen people on tiktok asking their bf’s this so I thought I’d do a version with the one piece boys idk if this even makes sense but yeah 😭😭😭 love y’all

luffy looks at you, eyes sparkling and grin wide, “sure! let’s go!” he says with unbridled enthusiasm. you laugh at his response, because of course he thinks you were asking a literal question - inviting him to go somewhere with you - and his response is so luffy, that it gives you all the answers you will ever need. luffy will follow you anywhere, no questions asked. so all you can do is shake your head, returning his smile tenfold, “okay let me grab my bag and we can go!”

“without question!” ace answers emphatically. “even if it was over a cliff?” you ask mischievously, curious to see just how far he’ll go. but then in classic ace fashion, he surprises you and you find yourself tearing up slightly at his response, “baby, i would hold your hand and gladly let you pull me over the cliff with you.”

at the question law raises an eyebrow at you, “it depends on when you’re going. you know you’re not that good with directions.” his lips turn upwards slightly as you flip him off, whining “you know that’s not what i mean” because you’re right, law knew exactly what you meant. but, he can’t find it in himself to admit aloud just how far he’d be willing to follow you.

zoro doesn’t hesitate when he answers your question “look i love you and im not trying to judge, but you’re literally worse with directions than i am.” he can’t hide his smirk when he hears you make a sound of protest, “me worse with directions than you? you’ve got to be joking me?!” he can’t help the fond chuckle that escapes him as you start to list all the times he’s gotten lost, “oh and don’t forget about the time when-“ “okay okay, i was joking,” he interrupts you, pausing slightly before continuing - this time his voice is softer, more vulnerable - “you know i’d follow you anywhere, dumbass.”

sanji stops in his tracks and turns to face you, he scoops you up in his arms, spinning you around as he firmly states “not only would I follow you, I would carry you the entire way”.

“no” shanks answers simply, “what do you mean no?” you ask. “there are some places i most definitely would not follow you, like the gym, the dentist, piranha infested river-“ you stare at him, rolling your eyes “you’re such a dork!” he laughs, “im kidding, baby. of course I’d follow you anywhere, to the ends of the earth even… just definitely not the gym.” you laugh, pecking him on the lips “no gym, got it.”

[miriamladyvoid]

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My ask: Hello I liked your Grim headcanons so I would like to request platonic solace headcanons with the freshman gang + Grim. In the hypothetical scenario where Yuu/MC will never be able to return home and therefore Yuu will look depressed and tired after hearing the news ( i miss my boys)

Homesick

ft: Ace, Deuce, Epel, Jack, Sebek

Ace Trappola

⤷Ace finds out about the situation from the other first years, who’d already tried (and somewhat succeeded) in lightening the mood.

⤷So he didn’t have the pleasure of meeting you while it was the worst- however, when Ace went to offer his condolences the air was thick enough to cut with a knife.

⤷Now Ace didn’t WANT to attempt to cheer you up when the news was just broken, he’s decently self aware and knows his comfort and help comes off as brash or rude sometimes.

⤷However, it’s not like he’s heartless (if almost the exact opposite- he cares very deeply for someone once they become friends, and it’s a loyalty not easily broken).

⤷So, despite the tension and your obvious emotionally fragile demeanor, Ace took a leap of faith and sat down next to you.

⤷He starts off just saying random things, talking for the sake of ridding the silence, however it eventually drifts to family.

⤷He apologizes, like it was somehow his fault there was no way to return back to your world, and offers you to stay over at his place during the breaks.

⤷Then he starts joking about how you’ll fit in, and how his dad will love you (all the while making teasing remarks towards his brother).

⤷And at the very end, when both your butts are numb from sitting on the cold hard hallway floor, Ace pats you on the back and congratulates you on making it so far.

Deuce Spade

⤷The first one to find you, wholly unprepared and slightly panicking at the pure exhaustion apparent in your features.

⤷Deuce (after a moments pause) jumps into action by crowding around you and looking for any sign of what possibly could have happened- there’s no extra textbooks or assignments in your bag, nobody in the vicinity that could’ve harassed you, and you seem to be all in one piece.

⤷Stops and stares at you before asking just what happened, and panics even more when your expression turns even more heartbroken at his words.

⤷Tells you to wait for a moment, and runs off to a vending machine to grab a warm drink and some tissues in case you cry.

⤷When he returns, Deuce once again presses the topic of what happened, and once you finish the story, Deuce’s heart is broken.

⤷He loves his mom and grandma so much, and can’t imagine knowing there’d be no way to ever see them again- it isn’t pity on his part, more of an extreme empathy.

⤷Tries his best to hug you while there’s still a hot drink in your hands, but as awkward as the embrace is, it’s honest and Deuce tries to convey everything he doesn’t have the words for through it.

⤷When the two of you have to go back to classes, he makes sure to tell some of the others to be more gentle than usual- but doesn’t budge on the reason or story.

⤷It’s your feelings and your tale to tell, all in due time and at your own pace the others can find out.

Epel Felmier

⤷Sees you during lunch, after the text that had been sent out. Epel was almost overly cautious and walked on eggshells about every topic before Deuce caught his eye and started shaking his head.

⤷Relaxed a bit and didn’t pry on the subject- he figured you’d approach it on your own if you wanted his condolences or advice (though Epel knows he’s a bit ill suited for legitimate life instruction).

⤷He offers some food from his lunchbox (Pomefiore is on a group diet again, but Vil at least uses incredibly high quality ingredients), and carves an apple into the shape of something you like- be it an animal or object.

⤷Once everyone joins the table (minus Ace who had basketball), and you’re a bit more distracted, Epel starts to pick up on smaller things that Deuce was doing- steering the conversation one way or the other, avoiding talking about the upcoming break where everyone would get to see their family… oh yeah wasn’t Crowley trying to find a way back- oh.

⤷Pauses in the middle of chewing, and stares at you for a few seconds before the full situation sinks in.

⤷Epel is extremely close with his family (or community in general), so similar to Deuce he’s shocked by his own revelation- and immediately starts looking up possible things he can do to make you feel better.

⤷All of Epels sentiments are incredibly corny- flowers and warm tea, or choosing films with similar scenery to your hometown in hopes to bring some feeling of comfort.

⤷Tries his hardest to support you without you needing to tell him.

Jack Howl

⤷Notices the smaller things, and pieces together what happened like Epel, however Jack believes that talking through your problems can help process them (so long as it’s not him doing the talking).

⤷Lots of questions, though not all at once. What happened? How do you feel- specifically. Does your body feel hollow, or heavy… or a bit of an odd mix between the two?

⤷Asks you how you want to move forward with things- do you want to keep looking for ways back? Or would you prefer to “accept your fate” and start making more permanent roots in Twisted Wonderland (social security, school aptitude tests, bank accounts… etc).

⤷He’s very much a rock to lean on- seemingly forever calm (if a bit miffed due to the wet spots due to tears now in his leather Savanaclaw jacket).

⤷Does small things that you have to look twice at to notice the real value of, on a particularly rough day he prepares some food that tastes similar to a favorite dish (even if the ingredients are different), or takes you to dumb tourist traps on the island so it feels more like a fun trip than a prison, makes a playlist with songs similar to those that he had you sing from your world.

⤷He offers to take you on break with him, explaining that his large family will leave no room to be bored- which therefore means really no time to be homesick or sad.

⤷On reflex gets you a nightlight because it’s one of his little sisters comfort items, and decides to get a matching one. That way you know you’re not alone in this world, even during the sad hours of nighttime.

Sebek Zigvolt

⤷Loudly, and very ungracefully asks why you’re acting so solemn when today marks the anniversary to the Great Lord Malleus’ club founding- as brash and socially dense as he may be, three people giving various negative hand gestures towards him after that statement would make anyone stop what they’re doing- and he did stop, mouth agape in pure bewilderment.

⤷Quiets down and watches as three of the other first years glance over your direction, as your face seems to get even more drained and exhausted by the sheer amount of energy surrounding you.

⤷Starts awkwardly shifting his weight from one foot to the other- he’s well aware of the effect his comment made and is slightly embarrassed that his first response to seeing a friend stressed out and tired was to… “invalidate their personal feelings in exchange for validating his own beliefs” as Master Lilia had said.

⤷Epel eventually gets sick of his demeanor and pulls him aside to explain the situation, and ask him to please help because they can’t make such a massive problem go away on their own.

⤷Sebek puffs out his chest at this new responsibility and decides the best course of action would be to explain why the Valley of Thorns is so wonderful.

⤷Slowly begins asking questions about your own home. The Valley has the highest concentration of Fae in the entire world- what are fae like where you’re from? What’s the food like? What spices, animal products, materials are different from what you’ve seen here.

⤷Accidentally makes mental notes of the descriptions you provide of the objects- and finds himself looking for the closest thing to it Twisted Wonderland has to offer.

The original publication and writing belongs to @spindle-spun-writings (Post recovered) 01/01/23

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Banners created by miriamladyvoid© Feel free to use; please, reblog, and credit banners.

Language of the flowers of each Banner:

First Banner: Faded Dianthus: I depart from you. Second Banner: Elder Blossom: Compassion. Third Banner: Harebell: Regret.

[okay-j-hannah]

Part 4: Ollie's Catnip

Teen Wolf : Multishot

Stiles Stilinski x Reader

Word Count: 10.4k

Warnings: series rewrite, season 1 {aka 2011}, slow burn, friends to lovers, usual teen wolf levels of violence and gore, heart conditions, lightheadedness, an unwanted kiss, forced kiss, terror, near werewolf attack

Request: This just came from my own head 😊

Part 3: Blue Handprints

Part 4: Ollie's Catnip {You Are Here}

Part 5: Mieczyslaw

Monday had rolled around quicker than you were expecting. After a week of being sick and a weekend of hanging out with your friends, you want to get back to a regular schedule.

The deep claw marks imbedded in your shoulder were healed, but left puffy, red marks that would soon scar terribly. Seeing as you already had a surgical scar on your chest it wasn’t a big deal.

What was bothersome was that it started to ache. Like a bad knee on a rainy day, your shoulder was tweaking something awful. You were massaging it in your classroom as others began filing in for the infamous chemistry test.

A few friendly faces welcome you back and ask if you heard about the incident with the janitor and supposed serial killer.

You wave them off and wait for your friends to appear.

Allison walks in with Lydia, and they sit in front of you. “Hey, how are you doing?”

“I’m fine. Although I haven’t seen Scott since Wednesday so that’s another story.”

Lydia reapplies her lipstick and adjusts her necklaces, “We’ll conquer that bridge when we come to it. Remember, you don’t need him. He treated you badly and he has a lot of making up to do before you even suggest the thought of talking to him again.”

Your eyes widen ever so slightly, “That’s pretty harsh.”

“Just because you decide to hang with the dog toys on the side doesn’t mean you can’t support your girls in avoiding them!”

You look to Allison, “I haven’t told him anything besides that you’re hurt. And that you’re looking for an explanation. I won’t tell him anything more unless you want me to.”

“No,” she shakes her head, “No, that’s fine for now. I want him to stew in it for a while.”

“Oh trust me…” you flip your pencil between your fingers, “He’s been simmering in those thoughts all weekend. The poor boy is crushed.”

“As he should be,” Lydia flips her hair, confidence radiating off her. She would ace this test without batting an eyelash. “He’s the one that’s been miscommunicating and hiding things from you. You don’t need that kind of stress added to your life.”

You frown, eyeing the scribbles and carvings on your desktop. The boys were still hiding a number of things from you. The foggy trip to the forest on Saturday didn’t help much. But the drunken memory of Stiles kissing your hairline and making wolf jokes brought a smile to your face.

Wolf jokes… it was the full moon that night, wasn’t it?

You rub your left shoulder again as Stiles walks in to sit beside you. He waves to you and takes a passive stance in his seat – tapping his pencil in his hand and bouncing his leg like it was the pedal keeping his life support on.

He hadn’t spoken to you the rest of the weekend. Nothing about the drunkenness. Nothing about the flirty touches he kept initiating. Nothing about how those senior boys tried to take you away.

“How was your Sunday?” you finally try and say.

“Fine, I had to come up with an excuse why my dad had one less bottle in his liquor cabinet,” he watches the pencil flying around his fingers, “I had to convince him he had one too many drinks while trying to solve the current investigation.”

You nod slowly, “Has he done that before?”

“Yeah, so it wasn’t that hard for him to believe.” There was a rather sad smirk on his face as he says it. “Anyways, how’s the bump on your head? Rocks punch hard I hear.”

You laugh, “Thanks to your kiss it hasn’t bothered me at all.”

“You remember that?” he winces, trying to hide the pink blossoming across his nose. “You remember anything else?”

You wonder how much you want to embarrass him. “You certainly had some wandering hands…”

“Oh, god,” he drops his pencil and buries his head in his arms atop his desk. “I was hoping that wouldn’t come up.”

“It was just some harmless arm tickles,” you shrug, amused by his reaction. “And you helping me to the car. You know as far as being wasted goes, we weren’t blackout drunk. I remember everything pretty well.”

He takes a deep breath and rubs hard at his eyes, “I was worried sick all yesterday thinking you’d be mad at me.”

“Why would I be mad at you?” you laugh again, “We’re friends; I was leaning on Scott and holding onto his ankle most of the night. Friends are allowed to be close.”

“Yeah, but you told me how you like Andrew and I was worried that you’d be upset about me doing what I did when you were probably hoping that it was Andrew that was doing what I did because you want to go on a date with him… and I wasn’t sure how you felt about me being close when you weren’t in some kind of distress from your heart because so far the only times I’ve touched you has been when you were about to faint or your heart is racing or you just went through a traumatic ordeal, and seeing as being drunk and having a breakup bonfire with your friends is none of those things… I thought maybe you’d be mad at me for, you know… touching you.”

His eyes were boring into his desk, leg back to bouncing like his life depended on it. You were smiling a sweet smile. He was so adorably endearing.

You wait until you see the honey of his eyes before saying, “I’m not mad, Stiles.”

He looks to you as if waiting for a long-winded reply like his, but he settles back into his desk and whispers, “Okay.”

“I would tell you if I didn’t like how you were touching me.”

He whips his head to you again, expression open and pink as he lingers on your warm gaze and soft smile. His throat bobs as Scott enters the room and makes awkward eye contact with Allison.

He sits on Stiles’ other side, giving him a blank nod as a hello. You lean forward and put a hand on Allison’s shoulder as a little silent support.

Mr. Harris starts class right after. “You have 45 minutes to complete the test. 25% of your grade can be earned right now simply by writing your name on the cover of the blue book. However, as happens every year, one of you will inexplicably fail to put your name on the cover, and I’ll be left yet again questioning my decision to ever become a teacher.”

You finish writing your name, peeking to see Stiles doing the same in a much more frantic manner. You share a smile with him as he finds your laughing gaze.

“So let’s get the disappointment over with. Begin.” Mr. Harris starts his stopwatch and the class simultaneously open their testing booklets.

You’re quick to start answering the first multiple choice question. Being someone that spends a lot of time at home, your study habits are perfection. It was a breeze knowing the answers to the entire first page.

As you flip to the backside, you notice Allison sending looks toward Scott. You follow her gaze and notice your friend having a strange, tweaky reaction to different things in the room. He kept jerking his head in different directions and squeezing his eyes shut as if to stop them from seeing something.

You share concern with Allison as you wonder what is ailing him.

Less than a minute later Scott was running out of the classroom with his backpack. Stiles was quick to follow him soon after.

“Mr. McCall!” Mr. Harris yells from his desk, “Mr. Stilinski!”

You probably would’ve followed too if Mr. Harris wasn’t currently giving a lecture about teenage delinquents and how that was a record for disappointment during an end-of-term test. But Stiles was out there with him – he probably didn’t want more attention than that. Scott was already hurting enough.

You attempt to continue the test and take deep breaths to control the random spikes in your heartbeat. Nothing unusual.

~~~

Scott was dripping in the locker room showers, the only thing having calmed him down being the forgotten inhaler in his backpack. Stiles stood back, consoling him on the panic attack.

“I looked at her, and it was like someone hit me in the ribs with a hammer.”

Stiles bites his lip, “Yeah, it’s called heartbreak. About two billion songs written about it.” And unrequited love, he thinks miserably.

Scott bangs his head against the tile wall, gripping his hair and trying to control his breathing, “I can’t stop thinking about her.”

“Yeah, I get it,” Stiles mumbles, thoughts swaying towards you. “Well, you could think about this: her dad’s a werewolf hunter, and you’re a werewolf, so it was bound to become an issue.” He could feel you smacking him on the arm, “That wasn’t helpful.”

“You think any of that matters when I feel about her like I do?”

“Dude,” Stiles lolls his head around, “I mean, yeah you got dumped, and it’s supposed to suck.”

Scott hangs his head, rubbing at his ear as he recalls, “No, that’s not it. It was like I could feel everything in the room, everyone else’s emotions. Anxiety, nerves, hunger…”

“That’ll be the test.”

“There was something warm, like love and a feeling like someone was going to be sick.”

Stiles perks up, “Who was the one feeling love?”

“It’s hard to pinpoint it,” Scott winces, “Maybe the extra heartbreak I’m feeling is because I was feeling it from Allison?”

“It’s got to be the full moon,” Stiles shrugs, “So we’ll lock you up in your room later just like we planned. That way the Alpha, who is your boss, can’t get to you, either.”

“I think we need to do a lot more than lock me in my room.” Something changes in Scott’s eyes. He stands with a new kind of assertiveness.

Stiles starts to ramble as per usual, “What, you mean because if you get out, you’d be caught by hunters?”

“No. Because if I get out, I think I might kill someone.”

“Shit,” Stiles mumbles, screwing up his face and folding his arms. “Is this that whole the Alpha wants me to kill my old pack so I can be a part of his bullshit?” He backs away from the menacing gleam now in Scott’s face. “We’re not going to let that happen. The Alpha has already targeted each of us. I’m not going to let him sway you into doing it yourself.”

“I wonder who will be the first.”

Stiles does not like the condemning tone to his voice as he says that.

~~~

You were heading to the library after school, keeping your backpack on your right shoulder. Consoling your two heartbroken friends and avoiding the hostility between Lydia and Jackson had given you a different type of exhaustion.

But nothing a healthy dose of scientific research for your chemistry project couldn’t fix.

Having memorized the layout of the library, you knew where to look for microbial research. You select a textbook and go to the front desk to check out a school Chromebook – which happened to be the latest donation for student use that year.

You were even more surprised when you went for the couches and tables. Stiles was sitting there doing his own kind of research.

“I thought you were taking care of Scott?”

Stiles seems just as surprised to see you. There was a frantic second where he tries to shuffle around his doodle pads and books. “Uh… yeah, he sort of got tired of me ‘yapping’ at him all day.” He has a funny side smile as he laughs.

“Breakups are hard,” you nod, sucking in your lips. “What are you doing here?” You lean across his table, trying to read his research upside down.

He gets fidgety again, scratching his head and making a low sound in his throat. “Nothing! Just a little hobby.”

“Wolves?” you ask, finally pulling one of his books towards you. “I didn’t know you had an interest in… wildlife.” You snicker as he yanks the book back.

“Ha ha, yeah very funny. I do just so happen to have an… interest… in w-wolves.”

You struggle to take him seriously, “And why wolves specifically?”

His throat bobs and his eyes wander for a second, “… because they say Derek is a serial killer. But you told me that the video store manager was killed by a wolf, not a human. So I’m sort of seeing if it’s possible all the murders were done by a rabid wolf and not a man… or a mountain lion.” He says it so quickly that you’re not sure if it’s his ADHD or him trying to cover his tracks.

You itch to touch your left shoulder, “What have you found out?” You sit across from him and look eager – almost heartened that he was taking your eyewitness account so seriously.

He seems resistant for a second before losing the rigidness in his shoulders. He melts forward into the table as he speaks to you in a hushed voice. “I was looking at their hunting patterns. Wolves are very endurance based predators. They don’t need to sneak up on their prey or have the element of surprise. They’re willing to travel for miles until they find an opportunity to strike.”

“So once you’re a target you’re pretty much screwed,” you smirk – but you’re unnerved at the fact Stiles wasn’t sharing your amusement.

“Right,” he plays around with his papers, “And they’re very smart with their targets. They use visual cues, their hearing, and scent to identify the perfect prey.”

You watch his speckled face as he explains, “What makes the perfect prey?”

His warm sappy eyes find yours, “They go for the weakest or sickest of the herd first.” His voice is almost solemn as he says it, “They seize the advantage in a hunt by going for a more vulnerable animal. They are smart enough to weigh their options for the peak outcome.”

“I didn’t know wolves were so clever.”

“Clever hunters,” Stiles scoffs. “And brutal killers. They don’t have the skillset to kill their victims quickly. Their prey usually die from shock or blood loss as the pack starts tearing them apart like a mob.”

You shiver unexpectedly, “Lovely research, Stiles. I’m going to have those recurring nightmares from the video store again.”

He was watching your amused face with something hollow. He looks sad… and worried. “Sorry, I’m being morbid.”

“It’s been a strange couple weeks,” you say, flipping through the index of your textbook, “While you’re here, do you want to meet about our science project?”

“The one that isn’t due for another month? Yeah, sure,” he finally smiles, warming up at your particular quirks.

You find the page on Escherichia coli. “Well, we’re going to need a few weeks to let the bacteria grow in the petri dishes.”

Stiles makes a face, “Bacteria?”

“I want to test some food handlers rules. There are many ways to cook and defrost different meats – how do we know which is the best to kill any unwanted bacteria?” You smile wide, “We plant some foodborne illness in meat, freeze it and defrost it in different ways before cooking it. We’ll swab them before and after cooking to see what bacteria grows.”

“What bacteria were you thinking?” Stiles folds his arms, stomach starting to feel a little queasy.

“E. coli,” you beam, “It’s a coliform bacterium that can cause food poisoning and diarrhea.”

Stiles swallows hard, “And you thought my research was lovely…”

“Come on, I know Mr. Harris would sign off on us getting some E. coli samples and we can conduct it in the lab. And after we can have steak for dinner.”

“I am not eating any kind of meat that you had stuffed full of a diarrhea bacteria!”

You laugh and miss the look of marveling in Stiles’ gaze. “Don’t you have lacrosse practice today?”

He watches you take notes with your pretty handwriting, completely forgetting about his research. “Yeah, actually. I have to hit the lockers in about ten minutes.”

“Hopefully that’ll be good for Scott,” you sigh, still giving most of your attention to your notes. “It might help him get some pent up feelings out.”

Stiles was very against that idea, pulling on his sleeves and starting to bounce his leg. “Maybe. Hey, speaking of Scott. When we were at the forest with him… there was something you said…”

“We both said a lot of things that night,” you snicker, “Kind of happens when you’re intoxicated.”

“No, it was something that I didn’t think much about until I remembered it the next morning,” he bows his head to try and get into your eyeline as you continue to write. “Can I ask you my personal question of the day?”

You laugh at the use of that question since you’ve become closer friends, “Sure, Stilinski.”

“You said you’ve never had anything past a situationship before,” he looks at your bright eyes with a slanted brow, “Because they get scared about you dying. What does that mean?”

There was a shiver in your eyes, but you remain steady, “I don’t know, Stiles – we were drunk. I probably just meant the inevitable. Everyone dies eventually.”

“Sure,” he says quietly, registering your evasiveness immediately. “Especially in this town.”

You shake your head, going back to your E. coli notes. “I almost wish it was the mountain lion, so we’d at least know it was dead and gone.” You flip the pages of your textbook, “I’m going to sit with Lydia today.”

“You’re going to watch?” he sounds lighthearted at that.

You smile, “Yeah, I want to support my boys. And, you know, Allison isn’t going to be there like usual.”

Stiles nods, staring at you longer than he should’ve. He couldn’t help admiring the natural rosiness to your cheeks when you weren’t sick.

“You worried about your heart?” he asks, starting to pack up his own research. “It’ll be loud and wild.”

“Maybe a little,” you say, “But everyone knows, and they can help if I feel faint.” You watch him stand from the table, “I’ll see you out on the field.”

~~~

Stiles was on a high. Scott was made captain, and he was now on the first line. Thank god for pinkeye.

“Are you not freaking out? I’m freaking out,” he has a stupid smile on his face, bouncing as he walks.

Scott was still brooding, “What’s the point? It’s just a stupid title. And I could practically smell the jealousy in there.”

“You’re still smelling everyone’s emotions?” Stiles stops them in the hallway, “Like from the test this morning?”

Scott is mumbling as he says, “Yeah, it’s like the full moon’s turned everything up to 10.”

Stiles, in his usual fidgety manner, awkwardly brings up, “Can you pick up on stuff like, I don’t know, desire?” He looks down the hall and his eyes warm into that sweet brown color.

It wasn’t registering in Scott, “What do you mean, desire?”

“Like… sexual desire.”

“Sexual desire?” Scott deadpans. He was dealing with a breakup and this guy has the audacity to ask him about sexual desires. His mind immediately pinpoints a moment when he and Allison were kissing on the bed. It made his blood boil.

Stiles was still talking around it, “Yeah, sexual desire. Lust, passion, arousal.”

After a huff of contempt, Scott peers down the hall and spots what Stiles is after. “From (Y/N)?”

Stiles looks toward the double doors at the end of the hall and gulps at your standing figure. You’re talking to Andrew and Danny, shocked at something they’re saying. You look towards the boys and wave, giving two big thumbs up. Apparently the lacrosse team had told you the big news about the recent promotions.

“What?” Stiles says quickly, waving back at you, “No, in a general, broad sense, can you determine sexual desire?”

Scott was experiencing a strange combination of anger and amusement, “From (Y/N) to you?”

“Fine, yes!” Stiles says louder than he means to, “From (Y/N) to me.” He bares his teeth a little in frustration, “Look, I need to know if I have a chance with this girl, okay.” He looks to you again to see Lydia appear to take you away. “I’ve been obsessing over her since getting back from winter break. She’s all I can think about!”

“Why don’t you just ask her? We’re all friends.”

Stiles twitches, “Well, to save myself utterly crushing humiliation. Thank you, Scott. I don’t want her pulling out the ‘I just see you as a friend’ line. I think I’d have to switch high schools.” He pulls on his uniform, “Please, can you just go up and ask if she likes me? See if her heartbeat rises…”

“Her heartbeat is always all over the place,” Scott rolls his eyes, “Hence the medical condition.”

“I don’t know,” Stiles grounds out, flailing his arms over his head, “See if pheromones come out or something!”

Scott turns on his heel and walks away, “Fine.”

Stiles is left in shock and pink tinging his cheeks, “I love you. I love you! You’re my best friend in the whole world.” He grips his lacrosse stick tight enough to hear the leather handle squeak.

At the end of the hall, talking with Lydia, you mutter something that sounds eerily like ‘Andrew.’ Scott didn’t let it bother him, “Hey, (Y/N), can we talk for a second?”

You play with your jacket, noticing the off color to his eyes before saying, “Yeah, of course.”

Lydia rolls her eyes, “I’ll save you a seat on the stands.” She flounces off smelling of heavenly perfume.

You lead Scott off to the nearest empty classroom, arms folded as you ask, “Are you okay?”

“I just needed to ask you something,” he says with his head bowed, sounding hurt as he continues, “Do you… do you know if Allison still likes me?”

You tilt your chin down, frowning slightly at the puppy-dog eyes he was giving you. “Of course she still likes you. I told you it was going to take a long time for her to get over you. That’s probably why she isn’t here cheering on her friends.”

“Friends…”

“I mean, yeah she’ll always like you as a friend,” you say sincerely, “I don’t think she could ever hate you.”

Scott wasn’t liking the answer. He was glowering again, all puppy-dog erased from his eyes. His hands were curling into fists as he says, “Just friends.”

You sound timid as you continue, “She doesn’t want any animosity between you, but yeah… maybe cooling off as just friends could ease the tension.”

He takes a step forward and the room feels three degrees colder, “You’re saying I should just forget all about my feelings for her?”

You take a sudden step back, your heart beginning to leap in your chest. Scott did not look like the friendly version of himself you had grown accustomed to. He was being dark and menacing, an edge to his voice that you did not like.

A hand going to your chest as it usually did to somehow contain your heartbeat, you say, “For the time being, maybe. Just see it as you’re taking a break. When you see her again…”

“Then I need to take my mind off of her somehow,” he says, creeping his way toward you – almost like he was stalking.

You were being backed into a wall, “Scott, are you okay? You seem a little off.” Your shoulders hit the wall, “You’re scaring me.”

He takes a long sniff and cocks his head to the side, “Scaring you a lot, actually.” He invades your personal space – to the point where you can feel the angry heat radiating off him. “Your heart is racing.”

You gulp and Scott eyes the pulse galloping in your neck. “What are you doing?”

“I’m trying to distract myself from the breakup. You said you would help me.” And his hands snap to your face, holding it in place as he crushes his lips to yours. He is stronger than you were expecting, pulling you to him with rigid arms.

You try to flail away, but Scott’s hands land on your upper arms, pining you between him and the wall. He kisses you hungrily – angrily – as he goes in for more and more. Your muffled cries of defiance are smothered in his mouth. It was bruising and intense, way more than you were ready for.

When he eventually pulls away you are quick to smack him across the face. Shoving at his solid form before running from the abandoned classroom. You sprint for the farthest restroom and find it empty.

You lean against a sink before looking in the mirror. Your hair was ratted in the back and the swollen red of your lips was a giveaway. You were just realizing you were crying when the alarm of your watch finally registered in your brain.

Your heart was still pounding in your chest and before long you’d be lightheaded.

It took nearly twenty minutes for you to calm down. Sitting on the dirty tiled floor, head between your knees, and tears running down your nose. You wonder what had gotten into Scott for him to take advantage of you like that.

Scott wasn’t that kind of guy, right?

You had received texts from both Lydia and Stiles before you made it outside. Lydia asking where you were and Stiles asking about your heart. He had gotten an alarm on his phone too.

Scott had told him it was because you were thinking about him… that you had confessed that you did, in fact, have a crush on Stiles too.

Lydia could see the closed, distraught look on your face as you climb the bleachers. “What happened? Have you been crying?” She touches the redness under your eyes.

You push her away, holding yourself and whispering, “I just had a moment. I’m fine.”

It wasn’t enough for Lydia, her manicured nails tilting your chin towards her, “Have you been kissing?!”

You rub at your lips, “Not by choice.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” she asks with a sudden lowered tone. The usual façade of the flirty popular spring fling queen was gone. “Did some guy…?”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” you whisper again, eyeing the field and rubbing up and down your arms. “Let’s just enjoy the game.”

Lydia was still staring at you, “(Y/N), we need to report this.”

“No, it was an accident,” you say defensively, “He didn’t mean to.”

“Who?”

“Noone, Lydia please,” you start to feel your eyes water again, “I promised Stiles I’d be here, and I don’t break those promises.”

A huff escapes Lydia, “That’s ridiculous. That idiot friend of yours would understand you leaving because somebody assaul…”

You hiss at her, “Stop! You’ll send my heart rate sky rocketing.”

She purses her lips, yanking her bag towards her and flushed with anger, “Fine. At least let me help hide the evidence. You don’t want anyone else questioning you.” She extracts a make-up wipe and a calming chapstick. “And then you’ll tell me what little bitch did this and we’ll set the dogs on him.”

You crack a tiny sad smile, “Thanks, Lydia.”

“We’ve got a whole lacrosse team that would be on your side.” She folds her arms and crosses her legs, tapping her floating foot in the air. “Jackson and Andrew would stand up for you.”

You watch Scott get pummeled to the ground, jumping back up like nothing happened. “I’m not sure I want the lacrosse team knowing.” Andrew stands as goalie, fending off all the incoming pitches. “I’m not even sure what happened.”

An overenthusiastic player in jersey #24 waves at you emphatically. He’s practically on his tiptoes as he grovels for your attention….

You know instantly that it’s Stiles.

You return his high energy with a small wave and in return his points to his chest, right above his heart, and gives you a thumbs up in question. He’s asking about your heartbeat.

After a second of appreciation, you give him a hesitant thumbs up before wrapping your arms around yourself again. Stiles grips his lacrosse stick nervously – Scott was going in for another try.

Only it ends with him clipping Andrew in the helmet, slamming him to the ground. You stand with Lydia, gasping at the sound of the impact. You’re fumbling down the bleacher stairs as everyone huddles around Andrew.

You hear Stiles’ voice as he confronts Scott. “Dude, what the hell are you doing?”

“What? He’s twice the size of me.”

“Yeah, but everybody likes Andrew. Now everybody’s gonna hate you.”

You speed across the grass, avoiding Stiles and Scott as he says, “I don’t care.” You catch his eyes and flinch away, skirting to the other side of the goalpost and to the fallen Andrew. He had a bloody nose but was probably safe from a concussion.

Stiles was stuck on the fact that you had flinched away from him and Scott. Why would you run away like that? He watches your crouching figure console Andrew, pushing your hair behind your ears.

There was still a redness to your eyes and a chapped swollenness to your mouth.

And Stiles was putting two and two together. He was slack jawed and turning to the retreating figure of Scott. Disbelief was the only way to describe what he was feeling.

Disbelief and full blown rage.

But he was more worried about you.

As they were carting Andrew away, along with most of the players and Lydia bickering with Jackson – you were left by the goalpost shaking and quiet.

He was gauging your response as he nears you. “(Y/N)?” He lifts a hand to your arm and you flinch out of his touch. It disappoints him – a punch to his gut. “What’s wrong?”

You gulp, avoiding his eyes, “Uh… it’s nothing. I’m just worried about Andrew.”

He frowns, tensing his jaw, “Did… Did something happen with Scott?”

You’re gripping your arms as you shake your head, “I told you it was nothing, Stiles. I j-just had a heart rate spike and I don’t feel so well.”

The evasiveness was getting to Stiles. He grinds his teeth, “(Y/N), I have a feeling your spike had something to do with Scott.” He wishes you would look at him, “Please, tell me the truth.”

Your eyes were starting to water, “Don’t make me say it, Stiles. I haven’t even processed what’s happened,” you run your fingers through your hair, blowing out a shaky breath, “I don’t want to think about it.”

God, he wants to touch you again. He wants to hold you. “I think I know,” he whispers, rage broiling in his veins. “That son of a bitch.”

You sniff, looking towards the sky to avoid letting the tears fall. It was stabbing a knife into Stiles’ heart.

“Lydia’s my ride home,” you say, your voice cracking, “I have to find her. I’m sure she’s still… fighting with Jackson.”

“No,” Stiles says instantly, “Absolutely not. I’ll drive you home. Just let me change real quick.” He starts stripping his uniform immediately, throwing his gloves with a little more force than was necessary.

You shove your hands in your pockets, still shaking regardless of how warm the spring afternoon was. “That’s kind of you Stiles, but…”

“If you say not to worry and walk away, I swear to god I’ll freak out,” he tosses his jersey and shoulder pads on the grass. “I see it as my privilege to escort you home. Please? It’ll make me feel better about leaving you knowing you’re safe.” His pleading made his eyes warm and syrupy. Your favorite shade of brown.

You reluctantly look at him with your red eyes – it seems to develop worrisome wrinkles in his forehead. “Okay.”

“Okay,” he repeats, hopeful, “Okay. Let’s go.” He avoids touching you, much to his dismay, and leads the way to the parking lot.

“Don’t you need to put your stuff back in your locker?” you ask quietly.

“Nope,” he says frankly, “This is more important.” He walks beside you, giving you some distance.

You can’t help the smile that wants to appear, “Thank you.”

He holds open the jeep door for you and throws his stuff unceremoniously in the back. He’s racing out of the parking lot, tension evident in his shoulders as he sneaks quick looks at your cowering figure.

You’re huddled against the door, holding your arms again.

Stiles has his usual hand on the wheel and the other on the stick shift. His chest was tight and painful as he tries to think of something to say, “I’m not going to ask you if you’re okay again because I know you’re not. And I can tell you just want to sit and think but I got to admit it’s freaking impossible for me to sit still and be quiet. You’re scaring the hell out of me, and I just want to help. I just…” he moves the hand on the stick shift to the edge of your chair. “I want to make you feel better. I’m not good at this. I’m not good at much… except maybe talking when I’m nervous…”

You silently move your hand to Stiles’. He’s quick to grip your fingers and gasp a sigh of relief.

“Oh, thank god,” he laughs awkwardly, “I can do this. Is this helping you feel better? If it is, you can hold my hand for as long as you need. I’ll hold your hand all night if that’s what it takes… I’ll hold your hand…”

“Stiles,” you say, quietly amused. “Please stop talking.”

“Sure,” he says, zipping his lip with his free hand. He mouths silently, “No more talking.”

The rest of the ride was quiet, except for the rumble of the engine and the incessant tapping of Stiles’ thumb against the steering wheel. He sometimes lifts your conjoined hands to change gears. Other times he subtly moves his thumb up your index finger, perhaps trying to be soothing.

You watch things fly past the window as you near your house. The shakiness of Stiles’ constantly moving hands was almost therapeutic. It distracts you to feel his fingers dance around your hand. You wipe at your eyes as the jeep stops in your driveway.

Stiles jumps out of the car and bangs his hip on the headlight as he runs for your side. He curses terribly and opens your door, “M’lady,” he pants in pain.

You slide out, tears smeared beneath your eyes as you say, “Thank you, Stiles.”

As he shuts the door you contemplate for about three seconds before going in for a hug.

Your arms wrap around his shoulders as you place your tearstained face near his neck. He returns the hug timidly, careful with how he’s touching you. He keeps his hands near your shoulder blades, at the top of your back.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, “I’m going to try and figure this out.”

Your sniffles cause him physical pain. “I’ll see you later.”

He waves you off, stewing in his new plan to contain Scott’s rabid werewolf side and to get his full revenge in payback for treating you like this.

~~~

After a nap and an ice pack for your swollen face and oncoming headache, you feel more clearheaded. Oliver, the gray cat, has his front paws perched on your knee, searching for more pats to the head.

“I just don’t get it,” you say, speaking to your cat as if he were your therapist. “I understand that he’s going through a breakup, but that doesn’t give him the right to act like a jackass.” You hold the icepack to your temples, “There must be something else going on – or maybe that’s just something Scott is capable of, and I didn’t see it.”

Oliver chirps at you, butting his head into your palm.

“I know, Ollie,” you say, “I don’t need anymore stress added to my life.”

With your mom helping dispatch with a call in the forest and your dad managing the firehouse that night, you were grateful to be home alone with your problems. It was a shame they had to work so much to maintain the debt from your medical bills.

But they never complained.

The moon was full and bright like a flashlight through your window. You thought about texting Allison but thought better of it.

You were, however, texting Lydia to keep away from filing a police report. You had no idea she was so invested in your care. She always seemed slightly aloof and as if her priorities were centered around high school popularity.

But maybe she had her own set of secrets like everyone else in this town.

You continue to talk with Oliver as the moon rises in the sky. It’s dark and chilly outside and you can hear the rustling of budding branches. It gives the night a strange ominous tone. It prompts you to the open window to peer at the darkness.

Oliver purrs and finds a spot at the foot of your bed to curl up.

The ache in your shoulder reappears as you gaze at the moon. “I think I need to go back to sleep.”

There was a sudden howl on the wind, loud enough that it sent a chill through your bones. You quickly slam the window shut, staring at your scared reflection in the glass. “You need to calm down, (Y/N).”

But there was something moving in the distance that caught your attention. Something fast and on all fours. Something animal… but…

You squint your eyes, pressing against the window to look past neighbor fences and thick growths of trees. There was some kind of creature running through yards and… straight towards your house.

The breath leaving your lungs was shallow as you realize – this thing was coming at you. You watch it reach your yard and stop. It stands and all you see are yellow eyes, sharp teeth, and a furry face.

You make eye contact with the creature and panic, gasping aloud as you back away. “Oh my god…”

Blood was pumping in your ears as you flounder. Where do you go? What do you do? You scramble to find something useful, a strange clawing coming from the walls below.

Where was your phone?

Your eyes dart to your bed and you pounce. Hands frantically searching beneath pillows and sheets, Ollie grumbles and jumps off the bed. Panting, you find the cellphone under your blanket, rolling off the mattress and running out of your room.

That thing knew you were in the bedroom.

There was a louder sound of clawing and splintering wood downstairs. The squeak of metal told you that the front door had swung open. The silence that follows makes you even more terrified. You thought something rabid was entering your house, but instead it was deadly quiet.

You cross the hallway and to your parents room, closing the door as quietly as possible. Speeding towards their ensuite bathroom, you lock yourself in. You think about your options – your parents? 911? Stiles? You don’t want to sound paranoid.

You decide to text your mom, “Are you coming home soon?” and then texting Stiles, “SOS.” You weren’t going to risk talking out loud if there was a tweaking madman entering the house in search of you.

There was the familiar creak of the squeaky floorboard in the hall that usually signaled that your parents were up and about. Whatever that thing was… it was moving past your room and further down the hall.

Your phone begins to buzz with a call from Stiles. You quickly decline, stopping the buzzing sound. You do the same with the next call he tries to make.

A steely cold burrows in your skin, ears trained for any sound coming from outside. You sit on the bathmat, holding your phone so it puts an eerie light across your face. Stiles resorts to texting you.

“I’m already on my way.”

“Are you okay? What’s going on?”

“Why aren’t you picking up your phone?”

“I’m right down the street.”

You tap out a reply, your breath shaky against your knees as they’re pressed to your chest. “There’s something in my house.”

You hear something from your parents bedroom.

“Are you somewhere safe?” Stiles replies. “What is it?”

You move your thumbs quickly, “It’s right outside the door.”

Your phone continues to buzz with frantic replies from Stiles, but you’re preoccupied with the slow, terrifying turning of the doorknob. It squeaks metallically as it’s manipulated. And after a few tries the creature stops.

The door then rattles with a sudden roar of noise. Scraping hands bang against the wood, the panels straining under the force of whatever is on the other side. You scream as a howl penetrates your ears.

The same howl you heard outside your bedroom window.

Fear envelopes you as you scramble to the far wall, screwing up the bathmat and knocking the shampoo bottle off the side of the tub. You resort to dialing 911 as the door bends under the hands of the growling creature.

“(Y/N)!”

Another voice comes from downstairs and you’re afraid to reply, “Stiles!?”

Heavy footfalls are coming up the stairs as the creature hesitates in its assault on the door. You pull at the collar of your pajamas, choking on your breath as your heart fails to oxygenate your body.

The voice of Stiles is so near, you fear for his safety as the creature howls again. But what Stiles says puts you into more shock.

“Scott, calm down buddy. You don’t want to do this,” he sounds full of fear, “This isn’t you, man. Snap out of it!”

You gasp for breath, clawing at your own chest as your heart works in overtime. You can barely register the things you hear on the other side of the door.

A different growl was sounding and (what you hope isn’t) Scott turns toward it. Stiles was encouraging the action.

“Go after the howls, Scott. Go join your other werewolf friends! Get out of here!”

It turns into Stiles banging on the bathroom door – with much less force than whatever power Scott possessed.

“(Y/N)? (Y/N), open the door please. It’s just me – Scott left with Derek. I promise it’s safe now.” He must’ve checked his phone because now he was speaking with a new level of panic, “Hold on, (Y/N). Just try to breathe! Focus on your surroundings – ground yourself!”

He was jumping and searching for those emergency bathroom keys that were sometimes left on the molding above the door. Thankfully your parents never took chances and kept those keys there.

Stiles was cursing himself for fumbling the key in the lock, forcing it open. He fell to the floor with his momentum, slipping on the tile to get to you.

“Holy shit – oh my god. (Y/N), you need to breathe.” He kneels beside you and puts a hand over yours holding your chest, “Just take a breath, please.” Your lips were turning blue from the lack of oxygen. Your eyes were fluttering shut.

Stiles was rubbing your hand against your chest, wrapping his other arm around your shoulders and shaking you into him. “Stay with me, (Y/N). You can’t pass out while you’re not breathing.”

You gasp something shallow, but it was the first breath he hears you take, “That’s it… god.” He puts his head against yours, “You can do it, take another.”

He holds you as you start to take more shallow breaths, each getting stronger by the second. The darkness creeping into your star-spangled vision became clearer; and the tingling in your hands and feet lessen.

Stiles is whispering quiet praises to whatever power helps you breathe evenly again. He holds up your wrist and watches your heart rate lower out of danger.

You rest against his chest, your head laying against his collarbone. You sound out of breath as you say, “You have… explaining to do.”

He chuckles solemnly, your head bouncing against his chest, “Remember that thing that wasn’t exactly mine to tell?”

“Scott?”

“Yeah,” he says, “Something happened when we found Derek’s dead sister in the woods… Scott was bit.” He was grateful for not looking at your reaction, just holding you close as your heartbeat steadies. “He was bit by a werewolf.”

You weakly smack his arm, “Bullshit.”

“Not even a little bit. Our friend is a werewolf. And so is Derek,” he says, “That’s why Derek has been invading – he’s trying to help Scott take control.”

“I don’t believe you,” you say, still sounding out of breath. Your head was aching with the lack of oxygen.

Stiles takes a deep breath, making you rise and fall against him. “Derek isn’t the serial killer attacking everyone. All those kills were done by the Alpha – that’s the big bad wolf that bit Scott and is trying to make him a part of his pack.”

“An Alpha?” you want to laugh but know it would send you into a coughing fit.

“Yes, and on the full moon the Alpha has more control over Scott. The moon has been messing with him all day, which you witnessed firsthand.”

That gives you a shiver, forcing you up from the ground, gripping the bathtub for support.

“Woah,” Stiles gets up with you, hands hovering at your back, “Take it slow.”

“You’re telling me the reason Scott has been snapping at everyone and shoving his tongue down my throat is because of the full moon?”

“Shoves his what down your what?”

You stand straight and nearly blackout until you hold onto the glass shower door. “Where is he now?” You start stumbling out of the bathroom and towards your bedroom, the perfect view of the front yard.

Stiles slips on the tile to follow you, terrified you were going to fall again.

Looking out the window, bathed in moonlight, you spy two beings on the edge of the street – heading towards the forest. Glowing eyes, pointed ears, furry faces, and snarling fangs. They were disappearing into the night.

What you saw before the home invasion was real.

“Was Derek bitten by the Alpha too?”

“Uh… no,” Stiles says, looking at you like a bomb about to go off. He was waiting for the outrage. “He was born a werewolf. He just wants to kill the Alpha for killing his sister. Scott is his link.”

You flex your hands, getting the feeling back in your fingers, “You were already on your way when I texted you. How did you know I was in trouble?” You could hear the audible breath Stiles took, the sound of him scratching his shaved head.

“To make him a part of his pack, the Alpha wants Scott to get rid of his old pack. Me, Allison, Lydia and Jackson… and you.” He takes a pause, “I knew he’d go after one of us under the control of the full moon.”

“You were doing research on the hunting habits of wolves today,” you whisper as the memory appears, running your fingers through your hair.

Stiles tries to focus on how beautiful you look in the moonlight. Beautiful and alive. Thank god Derek showed up.

“You’re right. And I knew wolves take their time with their targets…”

“The weakest and sickest of the herd,” you whisper again. “He was wearing me down today. He cornered me and… it was like he could smell the fear on me.”

Stiles swallows hard, his hands balling into fists, “Yeah. He was making a plan who to pick off one at a time.”

You fold your arms, nodding thoughtfully, wishing the headache to go away. “As far as secrets go… that is one hell of one.”

Stiles wrings his hands, “Yeah, you can see why we don’t want to rope too many people into it.”

“Who knows?” you ask, still debating your options.

“Derek and myself,” he sighs, watching your closed off stance. “But who else knows about werewolves? The Argents do.”

Your brow furrows, still staring out the window, “Allison’s family?”

“Her parents and her Aunt Kate,” he nods, “They’re werewolf hunters. Have been for centuries and it’s part of the reason they moved here.”

“Allison?”

“As far as we know, she’s clueless about the whole thing. But now that she’s spending so much time at home because of the breakup… I think her aunt my have a little too much influence.”

Your fingers dig into your arms, “Interesting.”

Stiles lets the silence hit for a few seconds before inching towards you more, “Interesting?”

You feel the hurt start to creep into your chest. The kind of aching hurt that only comes from feeling betrayal and an overwhelmingness to hide. “I think you should go, Stiles.”

He stands straight, “What?”

Tilting your head over your shoulder, you mumble, “I’ve heard enough and I would like you to leave. My mom will be home soon.” You stay where you are, feeling in need of a long sleep. “I need time to process. I need time alone. Thank you for coming for me and telling me the truth, but I want to be by myself now.”

He bites his tongue, “Are you sure?”

“Goodnight, Stiles.”

“(Y/N), listen to me. It was scary at first for me too,” he sounds nervous, “I know it’s a shock, but…”

“Please leave, Stilinski. I won’t ask again.”

He huffs his frustration, “Okay, I get it. Will you at least tell me when your mom gets here? Just so I know you’re…”

“My mom is on the same dispatch call your dad is tonight. When he gets home you’ll know my mom is getting home too.”

It was quiet after that, Stiles taking a few steps back and grinding his teeth. He was almost out the door when he says, “I’m glad you’re safe, (Y/N).”

Minutes later you watch the blue jeep drive away. An hour later you’re still standing at the window, basking in the cool moonlight. Two hours later your mom enters the driveway.

And you’re finally able to step away and lower your arms – lightheaded from your locked knees.

“Oh, hello sweetie,” Angela says at the door, Ollie at her ankles. “Why are you still awake?”

You let the exhaustion show, “I couldn’t sleep. I wanted to wait until you got home.”

Your mom pouts, walking to you with open arms, “I could use a hug too.” You embrace and feel the knots of tension in her shoulders.

“Long call?”

Angela holds you back by the shoulders and inspects your tiresome complexion. “There were another couple deaths in the forest. It’s being ruled an accident for now, might’ve just fallen in a bonfire because they were drunk.”

“Died in a fire?” you say with a gruesome wince.

“Yep,” your mother sighs, “It was nice seeing your dad though. Fire department was called too.” She ponders your expression, “Why can’t you sleep?”

You lick your dry lips, “My heart has been all over the place. It’s hard to relax.”

Brows knitted, Angela puts a hand to the side of your face, “You feeling stressed at all?”

“You could say that. There’s been drama in the friend group.”

She nods and kisses your hairline, “I’ll make us some tea. Let me put my things away and we can hang out on the couch.” She’s satisfied with your small smile, leaving for her bedroom.

It was just dawning on you that she might see something when she yells…

“Hey, what are these claw marks in my bathroom door!?”

You rub harshly at your tired eyes, “Um… Ollie got into the catnip again?”

~~~

School had gotten strange the next week. It was already tense with Scott and Allison’s breakup, but now that you weren’t talking to the boys… it had felt very estranged. Both Scott and Stiles had tried to contact you, but you still need some time.

The bombshell of the things going on in Beacon Hills was a lot to take in.

It made your little secret seem minor in comparison.

You were sitting in the lunchroom, picking at your meal with your other friends. Jackson had been tense with Lydia the last few weeks and you could smell another breakup coming. His mild jackassery was starting to get on your nerves as he ignores you and the girls.

“He seriously started sending you pictures of you two together?” Lydia sneers, “What kind of move is that?”

“He’s trying to get back together with you,” you say a little melancholy.

Allison plays with her necklace, lost in thought, “It felt like he was trying to make me feel bad for breaking up with him.”

“He is completely clueless,” you sigh, “Most idiots in love are.”

Lydia squints her eyes at you suspiciously, “Speaking of idiots in love. Do you care to explain why you’re also ignoring dork #1 and dork #2?”

Your eyes momentarily shift across the cafeteria to where Scott and Stiles were eating. Stiles was shoving a chicken tender into his mouth with his usual amount of grace. The rest of his tray held macaroni and cheese… a painful memory of him telling you about the gourmet mac and cheese his mom used to make.

“Nothing just… some weird things happened.”

“Like dork #2 confessing his obvious feelings for you?” Lydia continues. “I don’t blame you for rejecting him. He’s a little weirdo.”

You snap your head to her, “You mean Stiles?”

“He’s been drooling over you since you started school,” Allison agrees, “Scott used to tell me about it.”

You shove your lunch tray away, “No! I wasn’t aware anyone was harboring any feelings for me.”

“Well, if we stick to that topic,” Lydia purses her lips, “Andrew Wickstrom is also a harborer of feelings.”

“And maybe two others on the lacrosse team,” Allison chuckles.

You shake your head, closing your eyes momentarily, “No, in fact Scott came onto me.” You rub at your temples, listening to Allison hold her breath.

“Excuse me?”

You look to her, sorrowful in how you say, “He cornered me and kissed me.”

“What!?”

“It was quick and only the one time. He said he was just trying to get his mind off you. I slapped him and everything,” you say with a little more urgency, “And obviously he’s super regretful because now he’s trying to get on your good side again.”

“What a little shit,” Lydia curses.

Allison was even more visibly upset than before, “I can’t believe that.”

You bite the inside of your cheek, “I didn’t want to tell you, but you deserve to know. Scott wasn’t himself that day. He’s been really wrecked.”

“That’s not a good enough excuse,” Allison mutters.

“Has he apologized at all?” Lydia asks with an edge of rage.

You shrug, “I haven’t exactly given him the chance to. That’s why I haven’t been talking to them.” You look to Allison with slanted brows, “I’m really sorry, Allison. I tried to make him stop.”

She shakes her head, snapping herself out of whatever fogginess had invaded her mind. “It wasn’t your fault. I don’t blame you.” She looks toward the boys before standing, “I need the bathroom.”

You nod, giving her space, instead watching Jackson stare down someone from across the cafeteria. Lydia was looking at him too with some semblance of impatience and frustration. In a nonchalant move, Jackson steals the green apple from your forgotten tray.

“How are you two?” you whisper to Lydia.

She scowls, “He’s been a little cozy with Allison if I’m being honest,” she picks a tomato from her salad. “We don’t talk much anymore, just the occasional make out and quickie in the car.”

You refrain from grimacing, “What is going on with everyone?”

“With spring comes all new drama,” she smiles derisively, “Springtime fever as they call it.”

Jackson suddenly stands and leaves them to gossip. Lydia follows him with her eyes, a moment of hurt flashing through them.

“I don’t think I can take much more drama,” you sigh with a fake smile, “My heart can’t take it.”

Lydia looks to you with genuine sympathy. You had grown to love the moments when she was real. “Then it’s a good thing we’re all taking a break. We’re the perfect girl squad. No boys allowed.”

You smile a little wider, “I’d like that.”

Your last period after lunch was gym, which usually consisted of you doing things for Coach since you had a doctor’s note banning you from raising your heart rate. While everyone was in the locker rooms changing, you talk with Finstock.

“I don’t care what they do today, Westbrook,” he groans, his whistle swinging around his neck, “I’m too busy drawing up plays for the game tonight. Bring out the basketballs and jump ropes and freaking hopscotch, I don’t care. Hell, let them use the pools to swim laps.” He scratches at his crazed hair, “Just make them do something for the period – and don’t come looking for me. Thanks, Westbrook.”

You blow out a whistled sigh, “No problem, Coach.” You roll out the cart of basketballs and volleyballs, a couple jump ropes dangling on the side. Your classmates start to trickle out in their gym attire.

Using your loudest voice you announce it was going to be a free workout period – they’re free to use the pools or the gym as long as they’re engaging in a sport of some kind.

Allison voices her wish to swim and Jackson is quick to agree, leading the way back to the lockers. Scott doesn’t say a word, just mindlessly follows them at a distance.

You watch many hands go for the gym equipment, a basketball falling to the floor. You catch it as it tries to bounce away.

“Hey, Westbrook!”

You look up to see Andrew holding his hands up for the ball. A smile on your lips, you pass the ball, pleased it lands right in his hands.

“How are you?” he asks, walking up to you. “I haven’t seen you in a while.”

You push some hair behind your ear, “Oh, just some post sickness keeping me away. I’m all good now.” You put your hands in your pockets, his lovely curly hair in ringlets against his forehead. “How have you been?”

“Not gonna lie,” he spins the basketball on his index finger, “I’ve missed seeing you at lacrosse and keeping Finstock in line in economics.”

You fold your arms, watching the ball spin, “It is good seeing you. I didn’t get a chance to talk to you much last practice – how’s the nose?”

He puts the ball under his arm and leans down to your height, “How does it look?” he grimaces comically, “I don’t dare look – I bet it’s grotesque and crooked and completely messed up.”

You giggle, clamping your index finger and thumb around the arch of his nose, “It looks fine to me.” You wiggle his face around and shove him away, noticing the adorable dimples coming out on his cheeks. “I’m glad it wasn’t something worse.”

“Yeah, McCall was in a funk that day.”

“That’s one word for it.” You sigh, “You going to show me some moves?” You gesture to the basketball, “Any three-pointers?”

He smiles bright, dribbling the ball, “If I make a three-pointer… how about you go on that date with me?”

Your cheeks feel warm as you try to contain your smile, “It’s a deal. Shoot straight, Wickstrom.”

He winks at you and goes for the three-point line outside the black arc surrounding the basket. He dribbles the ball twice before bending his knees and taking aim. With an arm extension, the ball flies in a smooth arch right into the basket.

Andrew holds his arm in that shooting pose, turning to you with a flush growing across his nose, “Nothing but net.”

“Jokes on you,” you say in a sweet voice that was feigning confidence, “I would’ve gone out with you even if you hadn’t made the shot.”

He laughs, walking up to you once more, “Does Friday sound good? Seven o’ clock?”

You say, “Sounds perfect.”

Before he jogs off to join the shirts and skins game being created on the sidelines, he looks at you with his warm expression. “Are you coming to the game tonight?”

“Oh, I don’t know. I might have a girls night…”

“I thought you had to help Finstock being his TA?”

“Oh, no – that’s just during school hours. I’m a regular fan in the stands during games.” You rub awkwardly at your arms as you say, “Things have been tense with some of the lacrosse players.”

He nods, his face suddenly serious with understanding. “I get it. I’m not saying you have to come… but I would love to see you there. Do what’s best for you.”

You take a genuine sigh of relief, “I needed that.” You nod your head towards the team huddles, “Now go earn your gym credit.”

“Finstock isn’t here, Westbrook,” he shrugs, already backing away.

“But he’s left me in charge; I could still fail you.”

He winks again, “You wouldn’t do that to me, sweetheart.”

You laugh as he retreats, but you know what he says is true. You were just glad to be moving on to perhaps a semi-normal relationship with someone that didn’t tangle with werewolves or supernatural hunters or murder investigations.

Stiles was sitting on the bleachers with a couple other kids not wanting to play the games. Each on their phone or reading a book or talking with a friend. Stiles was sitting between the benches, his legs hanging over the side.

He had a deep scowl on his face and twitchy fingers rotating his phone in his palm. He watches your exchange with Andrew with heat in his stomach. He was furious at the entire situation.

Upset that you hadn’t explained your distance. Angry that he hadn’t told you the truth sooner. Mad at himself for letting Scott loose on the full moon. Irritated that his life was consumed by Scott’s problems to the point that he felt like a major comedic side character. One that doesn’t usually get the girl.

But most of all furious that the guy you decide to date isn’t a bad guy at all. Andrew is kind and funny and supportive. He’s such a good guy that Stiles couldn’t be mad at him. And that made him even more mad.

~~~

Taglist: @assassinsasha23 @tasty-book-fans @lovelybaka @the-fandom-queen @runs-with-sciss0rs @iamaslytherin0 @n3muru @bethsvrse @taylorbrooke-0912

[aquamarixx]

second rate stand-in

in which reo is reminded how shitty it feels to be just a substitute.

⁺₊ ❆ ANGSTMAS 2024 ENTRY ❆ ₊⁺ pairing mikage reo x reader word count 878 words tags post manga timeskip, university AU, angst, hurt navigation

Reo Mikage has it all.

An heir to a vast conglomerate and a rising football player, Reo lives a life that most people can only dream of. Money, power, prestige—it’s all within his grasp.

Yet, none of it matters. Not when he doesn’t have you.

You’re just an ordinary university student. Another face he shares four years of his life with. Someone he occasionally works on projects with, exchanges polite nods with in class, and maybe, at best, maintains a casual rapport.

But unlike everyone else, you don’t treat him like a prince. You walk into his life as an academic rival—unimpressed, unphased. Not a fangirl, not lovesick. Just you, someone determined to beat him.

It would’ve been easier to dismiss you if you were like everyone else, fawning over him for his last name or his talent. But you’re not. You see through the sheen of his perfect life and meet him eye-to-eye.

To you, Reo Mikage isn’t a golden boy. He’s competition.

How the fuck is someone so good at sports, life, and everything despite having a jam-packed schedule? you think.

You’re already struggling with your academics, wanting to graduate top of your class with the best damn grades. Meanwhile, Reo casually breezes through his life as if it’s a walk in the park.

This only makes you want to challenge him, question how someone with his packed schedule still aces exams and projects. It infuriates you.

And him? He finds it exhilarating.

For the first time in years, Reo feels alive. You remind him of the fire he had in Blue Lock—the drive, the hunger to prove himself. And oh boy, he wants to prove himself to you that he’s the real deal.

He faces your competitive nature head-on, enjoying every time he sees your pretty face contorted in frustration when he sassily shows off his better grades. No matter what half-hearted insults you throw his way, it only fuels the fire in him.

He loves your attention and loves how you unknowingly think of him, even though not in the way everyone else does.

To you, he isn’t a billionaire heir or a football prodigy. He’s just someone to outdo. A competition. A rival.

And he falls for you because of it.

Over time, the rivalry softens into friendship. The snarky remarks give way to late-night study sessions, inside jokes, and “friendly” coffee dates. You let your guard down, showing him the side of you that’s self-deprecating, witty, and warm. And Reo? He’s hooked.

But you aren’t his to love. You have a boyfriend—someone who holds your heart. So, he swallows his feelings and settles for the sidelines, the friend who’s always there.

Nagi mocks him whenever he talks about you. “You’re not the type to wait, Reo. Go after what you want.”

It’s not like him to be passive. He learned the hard way how it is to be in a dog-eat-dog world back in Blue Lock. That anything and everything can be his for the taking, if he wants to. And he can.

But you aren’t a trophy or a goal. You’re you. And he can’t risk losing you altogether.

Even when you break up, he holds back. He tells himself it isn’t the right time, that you need space. Instead, he becomes your rock—picking up the pieces your ex leaves behind. Coffee runs, shared meals, walks home. Every small gesture is his way of saying what he can’t.

Reo tries to fill the void, doing everything your ex never did. But no matter how much he gives, he can’t shake the feeling that he’s a stand-in. A poor substitute for someone you loved deeply.

Then comes Christmas.

Reo spends weeks searching for the perfect gift. A simple silver charm bracelet, each charm representing significant memories you’ve shared with him that he holds dear. It’s more than a present; it’s a confession. He just needs to see you. So he texts you that night, his heart pounding.

Are you free tonight? Can I see you?

Before your reply comes, his phone buzzes with an Instagram notification. It’s your story.

There you are, smiling next to your ex.

The caption reads “Catching up,” but it doesn’t matter. The sight crushes him. His grip on his phone tightens as he stares at the screen. A dozen emotions surge through him—jealousy, doubt, hopelessness.

What’s the point? How can he compete with someone who already has a place in your heart?

He sets his phone down, unable to look at it any longer. The charm bracelet sits on his coffee table, glinting under the glow of the Christmas tree lights.

“I’ll never be him,” he whispers, his voice barely audible.

Reo lets himself imagine it. A world where he’s enough. Where he doesn’t have to live in someone else’s shadow. Where your smile is for him and him alone.

But that isn’t his reality.

Maybe next time. Maybe next time, I’ll have the courage to tell you. But not tonight.

Tonight, all he can do is carry the weight of his feelings, as silent and heavy as snowfall. Alone.

“Merry Christmas,” he types, sending it to you. The greeting leaves a bitter taste in his mouth because he's sure it doesn’t feel like one at all.

amari's notes: this was actually the firs piece i wrote for angstmas. i just accidentally saw a reo post here on tumblr and thought how fun it would be to break his heart (jk im kidding) im beginning to love his character, along with chigiri tbh. anyway, I’d love to hear your thoughts, so feel free to leave a reply or drop an ask or even a request! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

taglist: @inu1gf 100520s

[virgolixx]

Hey can I have some angst with Sanji and Ace being given news of their S/O being killed in a fight and then later on finding the S/O alive and asleep healing from their wounds

Head Cannon:

:How would these One piece men react when given the news of their S/O’s death to later finding out they are alive and recovering in their sleep:

Sanji, Ace

Theme: Angst💀

⚠️Warnings: Mentions of death

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sanji:

Sanji is completely and utterly shocked when Zoro tells him with a face laced with guilt and sadness, that you have been killed and thrown over a cliff.

Angry that Zoro might be pulling some sick joke on him, he shakes him harshly and yells at him to cut the crap. Turning to Nami Sanji yells to tell him that it’s not true. Once the fear start to set in Sanji yells for you.

Until realizing you’re actually gone, Sanji falls to his knees sobbing uncontrollably. Chopper, Nico and Usopp are trying to console Sanji, while the others have tears as well.

What do you mean you’re gone? The person he planned his entire future with, how you both would get married, start a family one day, to spending the of your lives together.

Sanji would loose him self entirely, he would lose his interest to keep himself presentable, he would barely sleep at all. Sanji would cook all your favorite meals to make it seem as if you were still with the crew, with him.

It’s been a week, and entire week since your passing, the crew have been in mourning that they haven’t set sail yet, but with not being in the mood for parties, the villagers simply left the straw hats gifts as gratitude for freeing them from the bandits.

The sun was starting to set, tomorrow afternoon the straw hats set sail. Not feeling any appetite for food Sanji is on the ships deck smoking, watching as the sun sets. Looking down Sanji felt tears fall. Until he heard a older woman calling for him.

From the panic of searching for someone, the older woman calms down a bit when realizing she’s found the straw hat pirates. The older woman tells Sanji about the young woman she’s found injured when she was out gathering herbs.

Shocked Sanji runs to the crew and drags them out to the older lady, leaving at once in anticipation to reach the older lady’s secluded house in the forest.

Once reaching your side, Sanji is holding you hand while giving it kisses as tears are falling from his eyes. Chopper is checking you for good measure and tells Sanji you’ll be perfectly fine and just need rest. While the others are crying tears of joy that you are safe and alive.

Once composed Sanji makes a feast in the old lady’s home as a way to show his gratitude that she took care of you, his love.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ace:

Ace is numb, his entire world has slowed, more like froze. Marco is the one who showed ace the news paper of your “death”. How those battle events brought you and luffy (plus his crew) together to fight those snobbish nobles to free the slaves.

If it were under different circumstances Ace would have loved that you and luffy have met, to see his two favorite people in the whole world talking and getting to know each other .

Once his emotions hit him, he falls to the floor balling his eyes out as he yells your name, as the others are crying them selves, white beards kneels before Ace and engulfs him in a hug.

Ace would loose him self, he’d loose his appetite to eat, he would also drink quite a lot and barely sleep. Ace would spend most of his nights on the tallest mast of the Moby Dick just watching the starry night.

It’s been a month, and it’s been so fucking hard for ace to heal, yes he’s eating now but he misses your warmth as you laid beside him in bed. Craves for your touch, to hear your voice. He honestly just can’t seem to sleep anymore.

It’s about to be 12 pm and the Thousand Sunny sails up beside the anchored Moby Dick, laughing happily luffy greets the pirates as he raised your vivre card up in the air. Talking to white beard luffy shows your vivre card, with your special signature that only white beard and ace know about.

Extremely hopeful to see your card entact white beard and the rest of his crew listen as Robin explains what happened when you and the straw hat pirates saved the slaves, how you go seriously injured because you blocked any attacks directed to the slaves.

Though with much effort Chopper saved your live and you have been in a short coma over the month with only recently waking the day before. The pirates all call up at ace in a happy cry, lost in thought Ace ignores everyone’s voice even his own brother’s yelling, only does he react once he hears a specific voice.

Your voice. You call for him looking up at him with your arms extended out with tears falling from your eyes, just as he looks down at you with wide eyes. In a frenzy Ace rushes over to your side and engulfs you in a tight hug his face in the crook of your neck taking in your warmth and scent.

The rest of the crew have tears of joy in their eyes, and you hear white beard welcoming you back home, for the rest of the day white beard has ordered a feast in honor of the straw hats for saving your life and for bringing you home.

All the while ace has been glued to your side holding you as you ate and happily spoke to luffy.

[2000sangel]

Can I request Husk with someone who doesn't drink alcohol but loves going to the bar just to talk with him? Maybe even try to learn card tricks since the poor one can't even shuffle cards. Pretty please

Of course! You didn't specify what you wanted, so I hope HCs are fine :3

dividers : horangipilled

Husk x Reader Headcanons

✦ Husk doesn’t really think that it’s a problem if you don’t drink alcohol; in fact, he might even be proud of you for it, as he wants you to be as healthy as possible. As he himself said, you won’t find the solution to a problem at the bottom of a bottle, so the last thing he wants is for you to get addicted to drinking like he unfortunately is.

✦ With that being said, he’ll happily mix up non-alcoholic drinks for you; from a fresh Mojito to a tasty Virgin Bloody Mary, he can make any cocktail of your liking without adding the alcohol. This way, you’ll fully be able to savor the flavour of the drink.

✦ If you’re not looking for a drink however, and you’d rather just sit down at the counter and talk to him, he’ll be pretty surprised at first. He’s so used to seeing all the other residents of the Hotel drunk and overly emotional that he barely considered the possibility that you might be there just for him.

✦ He really appreciates it though, and won’t deny you of any kind of conversation with him. He doesn’t usually reveal much about himself, but during your conversations the topic of your past lives will probably come up and he’ll tell you a bit about what his was like. Travelling, playing the saxophone at lounge bars and magic, this was what his life was really about, and as he recounts events that happened to him with a distant nostalgia in his eyes, you do nothing but listen, somewhat wishing you could have been able to meet when you were alive.

✦ He asks about yourself too, of course, and he’s a pretty good listener too. He leans on the counter slightly, ears perked up, genuinely interested in what you have to say. He asks questions and chuckles at your jokes and at your funny stories, his laugh spontaneous and gusty.

✦ One day he casually mentions card tricks, and when you ask him to show you some and how to perform them he’s eager to teach you. it’s not really because he wants to show off or because he likes being in the centre of attention, it’s mostly because it’s you who’s asking and he could never deny you of something as he’s grown fond of you. And also because yes, maybe he enjoys showing off a bit to you too...

✦ He shows you the simplest things first, like how to shuffle cards properly. Then comes the more difficult stuff: the mind reading card trick, the four Aces card trick, eights end up together...you find everything quite fun, and his explanations are easy to follow.

✦ Eventually, you learn how to perform these, even though with a bit of a struggle at first, and you ask him to watch you as you show your friends what you’ve learned. He observes proudly, shaking his head and chuckling endearingly when you perform the first card trick wrong, overcome with emotion. He nudges you with his tail, and reminds you to take a deep breath and stay concentrated next time you try this – you eventually succeed, and he flashes you the first smile showing his sharp teeth.

✦ You two end up playing cards together, since he knows many ways of playing too. He’s eager to show you those as well if you don’t really know how to play, and the best part is that he’s pretty patient and doesn’t really judge you for not knowing every rule.

[fandomfablesunleashed]

Warm me up

Ace x reader

English is not my first language

The last one. Starting with Ace and finishing with Ace 🤭

🫶@captainportgasdace 🫶

Ficmas masterlist

Main masterlist

You were getting closer to the Winter Island, and Ace knew you must hate it. You always said you preferred warmth—joking once that it might be why you enjoyed his presence so much. That comment had stayed with him, replaying in his mind for far longer than he'd like to admit.

“You okay?” Ace asked, moving closer to you.

“Yeah, yeah, just cold.” You shivered slightly, huddling in on yourself against the midnight breeze.

 “You’re always cold.”

He leaned casually against the railing, elbows resting, as he observed you. His eyes softened as your shivering grew more pronounced. After a moment of deliberation, he stepped closer, wrapping an arm casually around your shoulders.

A small laugh escaped you, the warmth of his body a welcome relief against the night’s chill.

The air stilled around you both, and the only sound was the occasional crash of the waves against the ship. Ace’s hand brushed lightly against your arm as he held you close, his fingers absently tracing the edge of your sleeve. For a moment, his mind wandered. He watched how the cool sea breeze tousled your hair, your face peaceful in the quiet night. Before he realized what he was doing, his hand was in your hair, running his fingers through it. 

He froze when you looked up at him, his heart skipping a beat. A slight blush dusted his cheeks, and he quickly turned his attention to the dark horizon.

“You’re really warm...” you murmured.

Ace felt a rush of warmth flood his chest, and he shifted slightly, his hands moving to your stomach and his arms tightening around you. “Yeah, well, that's what you get for eating Flame-Flame Fruit.” His voice was a little rougher than he intended, and he quickly tried to focus on the sea again.

You rested your head on his shoulder, the weight of your body relaxing into him, and Ace couldn't help but sigh contentedly. 

“This is nice,” he said after a few moments of silence, the tension in his body finally loosening.

You hummed in agreement, nuzzling against him even more. Your proximity felt so natural, so comforting. “It’s like you’re my own personal heat source,” you joked lightly.

Ace chuckled, the edges of his mouth curling upward despite himself. “Glad to be of service.”

The way you relaxed against him, trusting him to keep you warm, made something inside him stir—a feeling that had been growing since the first time he held you close. Something deeper, something more.

He found himself lost in thought, studying your face from the corner of his eye. There was a longing he couldn’t ignore, a desire to always be near you, to hold you just like this. It scared him a little—how much he craved your touch—but at the same time, it was thrilling.

He exhaled quietly, trying to shake the thoughts that were buzzing in his head. It felt too overwhelming, and yet he didn’t want this moment to end.

You shifted against him again, your head lifting slightly as you looked up at him. His heart did an erratic beat, and it took all of his strength not to just melt right there. You were so close, and your eyes—Gods, your eyes—made him lose track of everything else.

“Ace?” Your voice was soft, breaking through his haze of thoughts.

He blinked, startled that he had been staring at you for who knows how long. “Yeah?” His voice came out gruff, and he mentally kicked himself for being so obvious. He quickly averted his gaze.

You reached up, your fingers gently tugging on his chin, coaxing his eyes to meet yours again.

“You’re thinking really loud,” you said, a teasing glint in your eyes. “Wanna share?”

“Nah, nothing,” he replied, flashing a grin he didn’t quite feel. He hoped you didn’t notice how his eyes kept flicking to your lips and how badly he wanted to kiss you.

You narrowed your eyes at him, clearly not buying it. With a swift motion, you turned to face him and reached up to pinch his cheek.

“Liar.”

“Hey!” Ace protested, reaching up to swat your hand away, though his face was flushed from the warmth of your touch. He couldn’t fight the real smile that crept onto his lips, no matter how much he tried.

“Come on, spill it,” you insisted, giving him a playful nudge.

His chest tightened at the way you looked at him, your pupils sparkling with curiosity. It was as if you could see right through him, and it made it even harder to keep his composure. He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck, realizing that he’d never be able to dodge the question forever.

“I just… can’t get my brain to shut up. That’s all…” he muttered, wishing he could take the words back as soon as they left his lips.

You hummed in understanding, your hand slipping into his. Slowly, you laced your fingers through his, your touch lingering as you leaned into him once more. The simple contact made his heart race even more, his pulse hammering in his ears.

He could feel the weight of your gaze on him, and he swore he could feel every inch of his body responding to you, to the way you were so close. He tried to focus to keep his composure, but it was becoming increasingly difficult.

Then you leaned closer, your breath warm against his skin. “You know,” you said, your lips quirking up mischievously, “my lips are kinda cold too…”

His brain short-circuited. The words barely processed before he felt the heat rushing to his face. He couldn’t believe you had just said that.

“Is that your way of asking me to warm them up?” he blurted out before he could stop himself.

Gods, what had he just said? His face burned as he waited for your reaction.

You chuckled, your eyes sparkling. For a brief moment, Ace swore he saw something deeper in your gaze. “Well, I like when you warm me up.”

[brightlight-dazzlingeyes]

out of my league | pedri gonzalez [part vi]

🎓 synopsis: Finally, the two of you meet each other’s friends, and, despite your initial worries, everything goes surprisingly smoothly. Well, for the most part. Old insecurities and unresolved tension turn the night into something you weren't expecting, leaving you questioning where you stand. tags: nerd and jock trope, angst, emotional conflict, overthinking. (written in 2nd person but no mention of yn) | (around 2.8k words)

you can read the first part here, or go to the masterlist.

The gallery is packed – too warm, too noisy, with too many people wearing glasses that make them look smarter than they probably are. Ana’s always saying that everyone at these events has imposter syndrome anyway, so maybe they deserve to overcompensate.

And Ana deserves this moment, standing there in a burgundy blazer, soaking up compliments like she doesn’t already know she’s brilliant. Because of course she is. Chemistry major with grades you can’t even dream of, and now she’s exhibiting these paintings – ones that somehow make molecular structures look sexy, like they’re the veins running through some glowing, unrecognizable goddess.

“See what I mean?” you nudge Pedri. “She aces our quantum mechanics final and then pulls this off. Unbelievable!”

Pedri’s hand hovers awkwardly near his pocket, like he’s not sure if it’s better to stand there looking cool or hold the tiny, crumpled program they handed out at the door. “It’s... different,” he says finally. He’s been using that word a lot tonight, and you’re trying not to laugh.

“Okay, but do you like it?”

“I didn’t say I don’t,” he says quickly, and the tips of his ears are going pink. “It’s just... I don’t know what I’m looking at half the time.”

Ana appears out of nowhere. She’s buzzing, still riding the high from someone’s compliment, and she wastes no time eyeing Pedri up and down. Subtlety has never been her strong suit. Ana’s just curious, though, like always – probably more curious about you than him. She’s been rooting for this to work, even if she denies it.

“Finally!” she says, like this is some long-overdue event.

Pedri shifts, looking at you, unsure if this is good or bad. But you can tell Ana’s just excited, and obviously, she’s not the only one. Your friends have been waiting for this. Not just to judge him in person (though they definitely will), but because they think this is good for you. And maybe it is.

“So... what do you think?” Ana asks Pedri, tilting her head like she’s inspecting one of her paintings. She’s sharp enough to tell he’s out of his element, and you can tell she’s enjoying it.

Pedri blinks, caught off guard. “It’s, uh, really cool. Your work is incredible.”

Ana grins, satisfied. “Good answer.” She waves vaguely toward a corner. “Your real test is over there.”

You follow her gesture to where the rest of your friend group is very clearly gathered around the drinks table. Alexia and Diego are mid-argument; Arthur’s leaning against the wall, cider in hand, looking way too comfortable.

Ana shakes her head. “You’re late. And those weirdos have been chugging the free cider since six.”

When you get close to your friends, the first thing you see is Alexia lighting up like a Christmas tree. She spins toward Diego and tries – tries – to whisper, “Oh my God, it’s him!” but fails spectacularly because everyone around her hears it.

You hear Pedri chuckling softly beside you, and it makes you smile even though you want to pretend you don’t know these people right now.

“Hi,” you say, giving a small wave.

“Hi,” they all say in unison, dragging the i out like kids in a school play, as they shamelessly eye Pedri from head to toe.

Then Arthur, who recently admitted to going to all of Pedri’s games like some sort of fanboy, decides to get bold. “Hey, man,” he says, nodding his head, trying to be cool. It’s so not him that Alexia and Diego immediately lose it. You can’t help it, you laugh too. But Pedri doesn’t get the inside joke, so he just nods back politely. “Hey,” he says, then turns to the rest of the group. “Nice meeting you guys.”

Alexia snorts, crossing her arms. “Wait till the night is over to say that. I heard there’s gonna be a poetry recital any minute now.”

The collective groan is instant. Even Pedri joins in, and when he does, the groan turns into laughter.

“You guys want a drink?” Diego asks, already holding a cider and not waiting for anyone to say yes.

Pedri shakes his head. “No, thanks, I’m driving.” He smiles, but you can tell he’s nervous, trying to be polite while figuring out how to impress your friends without overdoing it.

“Oooh, a responsible man. Noted.” Alexia nods at him like she’s taking mental notes, and you roll your eyes, but her exaggerated approval makes you laugh.

“That’s good,” she says, looking at the others like they’re part of some secret jury. The rest of the group starts nodding, one after the other, as if the Roman conclave has decided on their pope.

Pedri scratches the back of his neck, catching on too late that he’s being evaluated. He looks embarrassed but keeps smiling.

Then Ana comes back, looking like she sprinted across the entire gallery to get here. “Guys, pretend you’re talking to me!” she says, barely catching her breath.

Diego leans back, amused. “Talking about what?”

“Did something happen?” you ask, your worry kicking in automatically.

“Carlos just showed up,” she says, fixing her hair in a mirror-smooth gesture. “I need to look busy.”

“Bird guy Carlos?” You ask her, surprised.

“Yes, bird guy Carlos!” she snaps, like this is somehow obvious, and you’re still not sure if she’s excited or annoyed about his presence. “What about you?” she suddenly asks Pedri, “You don’t come to this kind of thing often, do you?”

“Umm, no. Sorry.” Pedri’s voice drops a little, and he shifts on his feet.

“Don’t apologize,” Ana says, brushing it off. “I’m just trying to figure out if you’re good enough for my friend. She’s very cultured, you know?”

“I know!” Pedri’s eyes light up at that, and for the first time tonight, he doesn’t look nervous. That, he can talk about. If the subject is you, he could probably go on for hours. “She’s teaching me a lot,” he adds, the words so straightforward they make your stomach flip in that ridiculous, hopelessly romantic way you’re still not used to.

The group erupts in a chorus of “aww,” perfectly synchronized. Anas’s the first to recover, crossing her arms like she’s trying to look unimpressed but failing miserably. “Okay, fine,” she says, drawing out the words like it’s physically painful to admit. “You two are cute. You have my blessing, Pedri.” She pats him on the back with a dramatic flourish. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to return to my adoring fans.” She sweeps off like she’s royalty.

Pedri grins, checking the rest of the table. “That’s one out of four,” he says, playing along.

Arthur snickers, shaking his head. “Make that two out of four,” he says quickly, clearly more concerned about Pedri liking him than the other way around. “Don’t worry, man. You’re cool.”

“Let’s be real,” Alexia says, smirking. “It’s four out of four. You’ve got all of our blessings.” She leans back, giving the two of you a once-over, her teasing tone softening. “Honestly, you two really do look cute together. I can’t even make fun of it.”

Her eyes lingers on the way you’re leaning into Pedri, his hand resting on your waist like it’s second nature. You feel the warmth creep up your neck, but instead of pulling away, you let yourself stay right there.

One the way home, the car hums quietly as Pedri drives, his hands steady on the wheel. He’s been quiet for most of the drive, but not in a bad way. It’s like he’s still soaking it all in. He stops in a red light, tapping his fingers lightly against the steering wheel. “I’m happy you invited me.”

You tilt your head, studying him. “Yeah? Even with the poetry recital?”

He laughs at that, the sound warm and genuine. “Even with that. Your friends are nice. I mean, a little intense, but in a good way.”

You smirk. “They’re a lot. But they mean well.”

He nods, his expression softening. “I know. And... I feel like I know you better now.”

The sincerity in his voice catches you off guard, and you don’t know what to say. Your chest tightens, in an overwhelming, can’t-quite-handle-this kind of way. “Well, for what it’s worth,” you say softly, “you did great. They like you.”

He smiles at that, a little sheepish. “Even Alexia?”

“Especially Alexia,” you tease. “Which is saying something. She doesn’t like anyone right away.”

Pedri’s laugh is quieter this time, and he looks over at you again, his eyes warm. You reach out, your hand finding his on the center console. His fingers curl around yours instinctively, like they were always meant to fit there. “I’m glad you came,” you say, and you mean it.

part 2

The second you step inside the house, it feels like the walls are closing in. Music thuds through the floorboards, and clusters of people fill every corner, laughing and talking like they’ve known each other forever. You tug at your sleeves, already second-guessing your outfit and your decision to come.

“Are you sure this is okay?” you whisper to Pedri, sticking close enough that your shoulder brushes his.

“You’re perfect,” he says without missing a beat, his hand finding yours for a quick squeeze. “And you’re with me, okay? I’m not going anywhere.”

His confidence is reassuring, but the knot in your stomach tightens anyway. This kind of scene isn’t exactly your thing. Too many people, too many opportunities to say or do the wrong thing. Pedri leads you through the crowd making it look like it's easy, stopping every few steps to nod or wave at someone who greets him. You stick close to him as you take it all in.

He leans down, his voice low in your ear to cut through the noise. “They’re probably in the kitchen. That’s where the drinks are.”

Of course, that’s where they are. Classic frat party logic.

You follow him through the crowd, past someone who’s trying to shotgun a beer in the middle of the hallway, a cluster of people is gathered around the counter, laughing and talking over each other, and you can tell by the way Pedri’s shoulders relax that he’s found his group.

“Guys,” he says, raising his voice just enough to be heard. “This is –”

“Oh my God, finally!” Ferran interrupts, he’s smiling from ear to ear, already stepping forward to clasp Pedri’s shoulder. “The mystery girl appears.”

You freeze, caught off guard by the spotlight suddenly on you.

“Uh, hi,” you manage, giving a small wave.

“Hi,” Ferran says, mimicking your tone but with a teasing grin. Then his eyes flick to Pedri. “What happened to ‘she’s shy, don’t scare her’? You literally brought her here.”

“I didn’t think you’d start yelling the second we walked in,” Pedri mutters, already looking mortified.

“Yelling? That’s just Ferran’s resting volume,” a girl’s voice cuts in, light and teasing. You look over to see someone leaning casually against the counter, a drink in hand, looking at you curiously. “So…who’s this?”

Pedri stiffens beside you, his hand brushing against yours as if searching for backup. He clears his throat, his voice coming out a little too fast, “That’s my girlfriend.”

Your head snaps toward him. Did he just –? He looks just as stunned as you feel, his wide eyes darting around the room like a deer in headlights. The word hangs in the air, and you can’t decide if you want to smile or shrink into the floor.

Ferran’s laughter breaks the tension. “Is he always like that when he’s with you?” he teases, clearly enjoying how red Pedri’s face has gotten.

“I don’t know,” you say slowly, finding your voice. “How is he like when he’s with you guys?”

Ferran claps you on the back, his grin widening. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

After a while, you start to relax – just a little. Ferran and Pablo are surprisingly easy to talk to, their energy contagious in a way that takes the edge off your nerves. You even catch yourself laughing out loud, more than once.

Pedri leans into you on the couch, his arm draped casually across the backrest. He’s been close to you all night, his hand finding yours every so often.

“See?” he murmurs, his voice low enough that only you can hear. “Told you it wouldn’t be that bad.”

You roll your eyes, but the corner of your mouth lifts in a half-smile. “Don’t jinx it.”

It’s right then, as if summoned by your own words, that she arrives. You first notice his expression change. The warmth in his face vanishes, replaced by shock, then worry.

“I didn’t know she would be here,” Pedri whispers, leaning toward you. His voice is low, apologetic, and it makes you uneasy.

Funny thing is, you’re not nervous about her at first. Not really. She’s just another person in the room. But Pedri looks worried, and that’s what starts to twist your stomach into knots.

“Hi,” Melanie says, her voice pitched in that overly sweet way that makes your skin crawl. She steps closer, tilting her head like she’s sizing you up. “It’s... you two.”

Her eyes flick between you and Pedri, her lips curling into a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes. “That’s so funny,” she adds, her tone dripping with irony.

“Melanie,” Pedri says, his voice tight. He shifts slightly, his body unconsciously leaning closer to yours, as if to shield you. “I didn’t know you were coming.”

Melanie raises her eyebrows, feigning surprise. “Really?” she says, her voice lilting with mock innocence. “What, I’m not allowed to show up anymore?” She scoffs, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “Just because you’ve got a new side fling?”

The words land softly, spoken like they’re meant to be casual, but you can see the cracks in her facade. Her expression flickers, just for a moment, showing the hurt beneath the surface.

Ferran clears his throat, stepping in like a referee sensing a fight. “Mel, maybe you should –”

“I’m just talking,” she cuts him off with a dismissive wave, her tone light but her eyes sharp and locked onto you.

The chatter and music in the background feel distant, like you’re underwater. Your heart is pounding in your ears, and you can’t tell if it’s Melanie’s presence or your own spiraling thoughts. Maybe it’s both. You sit there, frozen, caught in the invisible crossfire. Pedri’s hand brushes yours again, but this time it doesn’t ground you. If anything, it only amplifies the ringing in your ears.

“Mel, don’t do this,” Pedri says, “We’re at a party. Just let it go.”

“Let it go?” Melanie repeats, her laugh sharp and bitter. “Oh, you’d love that, wouldn’t you? Just pretend like nothing happened. Like you didn’t string me along for years, and now suddenly, I’m not even allowed to come to our friends' parties anymore.” She spits the words out.

Your stomach twists. You don’t want to listen, but you can’t help it. Everything about this feels like a highlighter over everything you already felt insecure about – the history they share, the comfort she has with his friends, the way she looks, so effortlessly beautiful even as she lashes out.

“That’s not fair,” Pedri says, his voice still calm. “You know it wasn’t like that.”

“Oh, really?” Melanie’s voice rises, her hands gesturing wildly. “What part of it wasn’t like that, Pedri? The lying? The mixed signals? The part where I wasn’t enough for you?” Her voice cracks, and for a second, the anger slips away.

“I never lied to you,” Pedri says quietly, his expression pained. “And you know that. I tried, Melanie. I really did. But we weren’t –”

“Don’t,” she snaps, cutting him off. Her eyes shift to you again, and this time it feels like it's burning your skin. “And you.” She scoffs, shaking her head. “Do you even know what you’re getting into?”

That does it. It’s like the room starts tilting, and you’re the only one sliding out of place. You stand abruptly, the motion jerky and awkward, but you can’t stay. Not here, not like this.

“Wait –” Pedri reaches for you, but you step back, shaking your head.

“I need some air,” you mumble, your voice barely audible even to yourself.

Before anyone can stop you, you’re weaving through the crowd, your vision blurring as you push past unfamiliar faces and out into the cool night.

The fresh air doesn’t help. Your chest is still tight, your breaths shallow. You keep walking, not even sure where you’re going, just needing to get away. Away from Melanie’s words, Pedri’s history, the overwhelming feeling that you don’t belong.

By the time you stop, your hands are trembling, and tears blur your vision. You lean against a wall, trying to steady yourself, but the thoughts keep spiraling.

You think about Melanie, the way she looked at you, the way she spoke to Pedri. You think about how small you felt sitting there, like an intruder in their story. And for the first time in weeks, you feel like that old version of yourself again – the one who thought you’d never be enough.

And the worst part? You’re not sure you can go back in there and face him.

➜ Next Part

[jeankluv]

Birdie - Satoru Gojo | Chapter 05

Words: 4k

Summary: You didn’t like him, at all. But due to your bad luck you would have to be forced to work with him and different circumstances end up leading you to the fact that perhaps the word dislike is not the one you use to describe him.

Warnings for this chapter: panic attacks

Ac: _3aem

Tags: modern au, college au, fem!reader, academic rivals, he fell first, fluff, old money Gojo Satoru, abusive parents, slight slow burn, Satoru is a softy, secondary couple (Geto Suguru x oc), a bit of angst, no use of y/n, hurt/comfort, eventual smut, Gojo plays basketball, Gojo needs a hug

Authors notes: thank you for still supporting this story and for always like and leaving feedback and lovely messages ❤️

Materialist | previous chapter | next chapter

Fic playlist

Haibara's words hit you like a bucket of cold water.

“You also play on the basketball team?” You said with surprise.

Haibara laughed. “Yeah, I´m not as good as my seniors, Gojo and Geto, but I’m also on the team.”

“So obviously…” You sighed. “It’s impossible for us to change our shifts that day right?”

“I’m afraid so.” You looked down, you were really sad. “You have something important that day?”

You shook your head. “I got invited to the match and I wanted to go, but it’s okay! It doesn’t matter if we can’t change shifts.” You smiled.

“You got invited to the match?” He exclaimed and you nobbed in surprise. “I will talk with my grandma, I don't think she will mind if we close the store for one afternoon. Or maybe my sister can come…” He mentioned.

“Please Haibara, there is no need.” You said with worry.

It wasn't necessary for him to do that, there would be other chances to attend a game. Although you were feeling a bit sad for missing out, it wasn't catastrophic. Whether or not you attended didn't hold significant weight. Haibara had gone through the trouble of arranging it all for you, solely because you harbored a desire to fulfill Gojo's request. Goodness, you felt foolish.

“My grandma won’t mind, don’t worry. She adores you and she adores me.” He joked. “Besides it’s just a day, nothing will happen. Once she finds out that is to go to her dear grandson’s basketball match, she might even show up there herself.” He laughed. “Although I know you won’t be watching me.”

“I will also cheer for you Haibara.” You planted your hands on the table and looked at him seriously. “You’re my friend after all, right?”

“You consider me your friend?”

“Of course!”

Haibara shouted your name and hugged you tightly. “You are my friend too. I will present to you my friends from the team, although you already know a few of them.”

“Alright.” You grinned.

Haibara bid you farewell and exited the grocery store. Now you understood why he was always in a hurry; it was for his basketball practices. Retrieving your cell phone from your pocket, you messaged Kyoko that it were most likely going to the match too. The match was scheduled for Friday, and today being Wednesday, you wished you had discussed it with Haibara earlier, but time had been scarce for a calm conversation.

Despite the usual midweek routine, Gojo remained his typical self, yet you couldn't shake the feeling that he was concealing something behind his playful smile. Though hesitant to inquire, you continued studying, occasionally seeking clarification from him on various matters that crossed your mind during your free moments together.

You spent the afternoon attending to customers until Kyoko arrived; that day, she had promised to pick you up to go home together. You closed the shop, and Kyoko took hold of your arm to draw you closer as you walked towards home.

“You won't believe this.” She smiled, showing her teeth and squinting her eyes. You turned your head to look at her. “Suguru gave me his jersey; he wants me to wear it in the game.” She said with excitement.

“Really?” You said in amazement, to which she nodded eagerly. “Wow, Kyoko, are you two not officially dating yet?”

Kyoko shook her head. “Not yet, but I think we're heading in the right direction.” She sighed and whispered your name. “Do you think it can work out this time?”

“Yes.” You said firmly. “Suguru is not like the jerk…” You left the sentence hanging, recalling how Kyoko felt talking about that. “You know. The times I see you both, you seem genuinely happy, and Kyoko, believe me, the way Suguru looks at you is like the gaze of a romantic movie protagonist.”

When you met Kyoko, she was dating a guy whose name filled you with disgust. They had been together before entering high school. Kyoko was truly in love, while he was a complete jerk who was capable of cheating on her with more than five girls in just one month.

You still remember Kyoko's inconsolable crying when she found out, lamenting whether she wasn't enough for that pig. You recall seeing her light dim and her confidence shattered. That's why when you saw him on campus, you couldn't help but beat him up; at that moment, you didn't care about the possibility of being expelled or reprimanded, you were tired of seeing your best friend cry in corners because of that pig.

Fortunately, Kyoko moved forward, and that jerk transferred to another college. Since then, Kyoko had regained her confidence and her radiance; you only hoped and wished that Suguru Geto wouldn't do anything like that to her, not even close, or else you would do what you did back then all over again.

Both of you arrived at Kyoko’s home and greeted her parents, who were waiting for you to eat dinner. At that moment, you felt the need to cry but hold it back all together, you didn’t like crying in front of people.

*･゜ﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*･'･*:.｡. .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･*

In the blink of an eye, game day arrived, and Kyoko and you headed to where it would be held. There were quite a few university students, including professors. But it wasn't surprising after all, your basketball team was quite famous.

You sat next to Kyoko on the bench, positioned not too far from the playground, offering an optimal view of the players. It seemed likely they could spot you too. Kyoko brimmed with excitement for the match, donning the t-shirt Suguru had gifted her, emblazoned with his name and number. To an outsider, it might seem as though they were already a couple, but Kyoko insisted they were merely in the process of getting to know each other.

You glanced around, taking in the scene. It was your first attendance at one of the college basketball team's games. Yet, you were keenly aware that almost the entire college turned out for these matches due to their exceptional prowess. They rarely suffered defeat.

Apparently the team they would face that day was from Kyoto college, the only thing you knew was what Kyoko had told you and it seemed last year they faced each other in a final or something like that, the truth is you had not understood very well. Nonetheless, your team won, although with some difficulty.

You noticed how Kyoko grabbed your hand and rested his head on your shoulder, while she raised and lowered her leg nervously.

“Kyoko, relax.” You tried to calm her down. “They will probably win.”

“I’m not nervous for the match. Suguru said he wanted to talk with me after the match.”

You slightly opened your mouth in surprise. “Oh… maybe it’s the day Kyoko!”

“Maybe!” She smiled. “But still I’m really nervous.”

“It will be fine.” You tried to calm her.

The whistle signaling the start of the game brought you back to where you were. Kyoko squeezed your hand tightly, her eyes fixed on Suguru Geto. On the other hand, you watched the game, paying attention to most players. Haibara was among them, visibly happy to be there. There was also the blond guy you had seen with Haibara outside the store that time – what was his name? Nanamin? Yes, that might be it.

But without a doubt, you were consciously avoiding fixing your eyes on a white-haired guy. Though it was relatively impossible as he stood out on his own, and the entire venue went crazy whenever he touched the ball.

He was good, or so you thought, considering your limited knowledge of basketball. Yet, the way he moved, handled the ball, and shot was exquisite to watch.

Oh God! What are you thinking?

You shook your head to dispel those thoughts, trying to avoid looking at him. Your foolish mind led you to think things you shouldn't.

You shifted your gaze to the scoreboard – 34-27 in favor of Tokyo. You were winning.

The game continued, intensifying with each passing moment, causing the crowd to become even more excited in the action.

During one of the timeouts, as Kyoko commented on how handsome Suguru looked in his uniform and sighed, your eyes drifted across the team, catching the direct gaze of Gojo's blue eyes.

A pang in your heart made you immediately turn your head away. His gaze had been soft and warm, causing you to feel nervous, even from five meters away.

Feeling flustered by the unexpected encounter, you tried to focus on Kyoko's words, but the image of Gojo's penetrating gaze lingered in your mind. The intensity of his eyes seemed to convey a message you couldn't decipher, stirring up a whirlwind of emotions within you.

As the timeout ended and the game resumed, you found it difficult to shake off the lingering effect of Gojo's gaze.

With just a few minutes left for the game to end, both teams were tied. You and Kyoko gripped each other's hands, eagerly awaiting a decisive move.

The ball moved swiftly between players. Eventually, it landed in Suguru's hands. Realizing the dwindling time, he swiftly passed it to Gojo. Could he make the shot from that distance?

The court fell into silence as Gojo launched the ball towards the basket. Your breath caught as you followed the ball's trajectory – one spin, then another. When the buzzer sounded, the ball found its mark.

The arena erupted in cheers and applause, celebrating the victory of the University of Tokyo. You and Kyoko embraced, jumping with joy.

Your university had won.

“Can you believe we won? Suguru was incredible out there!” Kyoko screamed, jumping on her place.

You nodded, but your gaze involuntarily wandered towards Gojo, who was now surrounded by his teammates.

“What's on your mind? You seem a bit distracted.”

You hesitated before replying, “I... noticed something during the game.”

Kyoko raised an eyebrow. “What? The handsome players?”

You chuckled nervously, “No, it's just... Nothing, it doesn’t matter.” You shook your head.

“You sure?”

You nodded, trying to brush it off, but the memory of Gojo's gaze lingered, leaving you with a sense of intrigue amid the celebration.

Both of you stood up and headed outside; Kyoko needed to talk to Suguru before you went home. You walked to the exit where the players were leaving and waited. A smile spread across your face as you saw Suguru approaching you both.

“There is your man.” You gave her a light elbow nudge, and she blushed. “Go on. Then you have to fill me in on everything.” You warned her.

Kyoko started walking and smiled at you. “You know I will.”

You watched as your best friend approached Suguru and congratulated him on the victory. If it weren't for the fact that it was real life, you'd think you were watching a romantic movie from the '90s, the way Suguru had taken your best friend's hand and led them away from the crowd. You could almost vomit rainbows at that moment.

You pulled out your phone from your bag and checked the time, 21:45. It was still early.

“You came.” You heard a voice behind you. You knew whose voice it was; you could recognize it almost anywhere.

The voice of the person you had been trying to avoid making eye contact with all night, and the same voice that had now caused your heart to beat a little faster. Would it beat even faster if you looked into his eyes?

“Well…” You turned to face him; he still had his uniform on, and his hair was wet. Damn. “You invited me to the game, didn't you? It was the least I could do for my private tutor and project partner.”

Gojo simply smiled at you. “We have some soda if you want.” He pointed to where the rest of the players were.

You shook your head. “I'm good, but thanks.” You played with your hands and looked at the ground; for the first time, you felt embarrassed about what you were about to say. “You played really well, Gojo. It was very... very good. You were good, I guess.”

“Birdie…” You lifted your gaze and realized he was incredibly close to you again. “Are you free now?”

“Um…” You hesitated. You were, but... “I'm waiting for Kyoko.”

Gojo cleared his throat and grinned. “Then you're free. Those two lovebirds will take a while.” Gojo stood next to you and took hold of your arm. “Come on, I want to take you somewhere.”

“Wait, Gojo.” You tried to free yourself from his grip. “Are you going like this?” You looked him up and down.

“Yes, why?” He checked himself. “This is my other uniform, and I've showered.”

“Oh.” You nodded. "I thought..."

"You thought I'd take you around all sweaty?" You averted your gaze, avoiding his. "You can see me sweaty under different circumstances..."

You pulled away from his grip and looked at him with a furrowed brow. “No, thanks.”

“I meant during basketball practice.” He teased you. “You thought wrong.” And you couldn't help but blush.

Gojo grabbed your arm and practically dragged you to the parking lot. You could feel people's gaze on you, which wasn't hard considering Gojo drew too much attention, much to your dismay. Most looks were curious, although many would have buried you alive if they could.

Gojo stopped in front of the black car he had taken you in before. You didn't know much about cars, but you were sure it was expensive. He let go of your arm and opened the trunk, searching for something. Then he pulled out a hoodie and handed it to you, and you frowned at him.

“You've been shivering since we left the venue.” He said, offering it again. “It might be colder where we're going.”

“Thanks... I guess.” You whispered as you took the hoodie. “But I don't understand why you want to take me somewhere. Kyoko will be looking for me.” You protested.

“I already told Suguru, I'm sure he's told Kyoko. So relax.” He shrugged.

“I still don't understand why you want to take me somewhere.” You sighed.

“Simply because I want to, birdie.” He put his hands on his hips. “I… I'd like to show you something.”

“Gojo, if you try anything, even the slightest thing, I won't hesitate with you.” You looked him in the eyes.

“I know, and I won't do anything you don't want.” He smiled. “Shall we go now?”

“Yeah…” You looked carefully at his face, noticing how the wounds were almost gone. “Your wounds… you treated them?” Gojo nodded, touching his face a little bit. “That’s good, I’m glad.”

“Oh birdie, is worried about me.” Gojo teased you.

You rolled your eyes and said nothing. Because in fact a part of you was worried about him but saying it out loud didn’t feel right.

You put on the hoodie he gave you, it was warm, and Gojo's scent filled your nostrils. It was too big for you, but it covered your thighs a bit. You got into Gojo's car and fastened your seatbelt.

Before Gojo got in too, you quickly sent a message to Kyoko.

You to Kyoko ☀️

If anything happens to me, it was Gojo.

I love you

Gojo hopped into the driver's seat, starting the car with a confident grin. As he drove away, Gojo seemed oddly focused on the road, a stark contrast to his usual carefree demeanor.

You watched outside the window and observed the city lights were starting to fade, distancing yourselves from the bustling Tokyo and entering a quieter place. That was the feeling as you looked through the window of Gojo's car.

The soft lights of fireflies illuminated the road. Gojo kept his eyes on the road, and the silence in the car wasn't awkward. In fact, you didn't feel uncomfortable being with him. It's true that he annoyed you, and often you couldn't stand him, but discomfort wasn't present.

Admitting it aloud was a challenge, but slowly, Satoru Gojo was earning your appreciation, even though you always proceeded with caution, carefully observing his actions.

It had been 30 minutes since you got into Gojo's car when the speed began to decrease; it seemed you had arrived at the place. A strange sensation took hold of you; you didn't know what it was, but it was there.

You got out of the car, just like Gojo, and waited for him to reach your side.

“We have to walk a bit, but I swear it'll be worth it.” He smiled and started walking ahead of you.

You didn't say anything and simply followed him; Gojo walked with determination and confidence in every step he took, regardless of the fact that the only light available was from the flashlights on your phones.

“I used to come here when I was little.” He broke the silence. “And then when I got older too, it helped me clear my mind and relax.” He looked over his shoulder at you and smiled.

You continued walking until you finally reached the place. The moon was reflected in the crystal-clear water of the lake, displaying a beautiful view.

“Tara!” Gojo sang, spreading his arms and smiling. “It's incredible that a place like this exists near Tokyo; it's wonderful.”

You wanted to say yes, it was, but that feeling in your stomach was back, and your head was throbbing.

“Birdie…?” You noticed Gojo looking at you with a concerned expression on his face.

“I’m tired…” You said. “Sorry…”

“No, don't be…” He shook his head. “Why don’t we go and sit over there?” He pointed at a bench near the lake.

You nodded and started walking towards the bench. You didn’t quite know what got into you but it was an uncomfortable sensation that wanted to break out.

Gojo sat next to you and you noticed how he started to play with his fingers. Was he nervous?

“Gojo…” You broke the silence.

“I’m sorry.” He cut you. “I’m sorry, you told me you didn’t feel like coming and still I brought you here, without caring. You probably wanted to get home and rest. Shit…” He held his head between his hands. “You are always working so hard and already came to see the match although you had to work and here I’m bringing you here when you are tired.”

You looked at him attentively; it wasn't necessary for him to react like this. He didn't need to worry so much about you.

“Gojo.” You whispered, gently touching his shoulder. “It's okay, don't worry. I just started getting a headache.”

He removed his hands from his head and looked at you before returning his gaze to the lake.

“I always come here when I need to clear my head.” He whispered. “When classes get too much or after training.”

Who would've thought, the great Satoru Gojo would be overwhelmed. You never would've been able to tell.

“Lately, I've been coming here too often, to be honest.” He whispered.

“Are classes getting to you?” You asked out of curiosity.

“Not exactly, it's more family problems.”

“Oh... I understand.”

“You know, when I was a kid, I used to sneak out and come here.” He smiled and looked at you. “When my parents scolded me or we argued, I'd grab my bike and come here.”

“You came here as a child alone?" You said in surprise, the place was a bit far away for a kid to come on their own.

“Yeah, they didn't care.” He said with a sad smile.

“Gojo…” You said concern, Gojo was opening to you in a way you wouldn’t have thought he would.

“But it's okay, I could relax here, and one day, I met someone.” He turned to look at you with a smile.

Gojo continued talking but you struggled to maintain focus, the intensity of the memories threatening to overwhelm you. His lips moved, forming words you couldn't decipher over the deafening roar in your ears.

A sharp pain shot through your head, causing you to wince and clutch at your temples. It felt like your skull was being crushed in a vice, the pressure unbearable. Breathing became a struggle, each inhale feeling like a futile attempt to fill your lungs with air.

The memories flooded back with relentless force, each fragment adding to the torment. You remembered the bright sunshine glinting off the surface of the lake, the sound of your mother's voice calling your name.

And then, the screech of tires, the sickening crunch of metal, the scream of terror that ripped through the air. You remembered the impact, the sensation of being thrown, the blinding pain as your body collided with something hard and unforgiving.

But amidst the chaos and confusion, one image stood out with stark clarity: your mother, her arms wrapped around you, shielding you from harm with her last breath.

Tears blurred your vision as you struggled to make sense of it all, the weight of grief and loss crushing you with its unbearable heaviness. You felt like you were drowning in a sea of sorrow, unable to find solid ground to anchor yourself.

“Birdie…” You could hear Gojo calling your nickname and your name.

You were having a panic attack?

“Are you okay?” Gojo's concerned voice broke through the haze, his hand reaching out to steady you.

You blinked, trying to focus on his face through the blur of tears and agony. It was all too much to bear, the weight of the past pressing down on you like a suffocating blanket.

“I... I…” Your words came out as a choked whisper, your voice trembling with the effort to contain the overwhelming pain.

Without another word, Gojo wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close in a comforting embrace. In that moment, his presence was a lifeline amidst the storm of your shattered memories.

Gojo's arms held you warmly and tightly, as if he wanted to remove the pain you were currently feeling from your body and mind.

That's when you realized how shitty you had been. Satoru Gojo had cried hugging you and at that moment you had not been able to do anything for him, instead you stayed silent like the coward you were.

Gojo was the opposite of you, he was what you wanted to be, open, positive, energetic, sympathetic but you were far from it.

“Birdie?” His voice was gentle, filled with concern, as he steadied you.

You blinked back tears, not wanting Gojo to see you cry, and trying to find the words to express the turmoil inside. “I... I need…”

“It’s okay…” He whispered, still embracing you. “I think the best is to leave.”

You simply nodded. Gojo separated from you and stood up first, feeling the warmth you had felt previously disappear.

As you looked up, you saw Gojo's hand extended towards you. On another occasion, you would have rejected it and said something to him, but in that moment you just wanted to feel the calm and warmth you had experienced next to his body.

You grabbed Gojo's hand and walked in silence to the car. In a way, you were anxious and felt that if you got into the car after remembering what you had remembered, you might have another panic attack. But if you stayed at the lake, you didn't think you could be calm. Anyway, all you wanted at that moment was to get away from there.

“Birdie…” Gojo's gentle voice brought you out of your thoughts.

You looked at him and saw the sadness and concern in his face.

“I'm fine.” You forced a smile, knowing he didn't buy it when he held your gaze. “Really, how about you invite me to dinner?” You tried to change the subject. “I'm starving.” You touched your stomach.

Gojo's features relaxed for a moment and he nodded. “Okay…” He opened the car door. “Pick any place you want, it doesn't matter. I'll take you.”

You nodded with a smile.

The drive was quiet, the only sound was the hum of the radio. You stole glances at Gojo, noting the tension in his posture and the furrow of his brow. Despite your attempts to lighten the mood, you could tell that he was still worried about you.

You wanted to assure him that he didn’t have to worry about you.

Notes: if you want to be tagged, just comment below 🤗

Tagged: @lavender-hvze, @crybabytoru, @sanriosatoru, @norvacaine, @sadmonke, @faetoraa , @hexipessimistic, @gojoful

[darl-ingfics]

Sicktember Day 23: Under a Spell

Fandom: Seventeen

Sickie: Jun (cold)

Caregiver(s): Mingyu (virtually)

Word Count: 878

Notes: Two Jun fics in a row. It's almost like he's my bias-wrecker or something.

“Junnie-Hyung!” Mingu cheered instantly when the Facetime call was accepted. He had been biting his lip, hoping that Jun wasn’t busy. He could’ve always left a voicemail if so, but he just really wanted to talk with Jun tonight. And the feeling appeared to be mutual; the sight of Mingyu made his hyung smile on impact. 

“Mingyuuuu!” Jun exclaimed, shifting around to a more comfortable position. He appeared to be on a couch, wherever he was. “How are you?”

“I miss youuu!!!”

“I miss you too! How are promotions going?” His voice sounded off to Mingyu, but he figured it was the audio quality. 

“Amazing, hyung!” Mingyu sighed. “Everything has been going so smooth, but it’s just different without and Hannie-hyung.”

Jun pouted. “I know, I’m sorry.”

“Not your fault. You’re living your dreams right now! How’s filming?”

“Filming is going great! My scene partners have been fantastic, and…” Jun broke off, disappearing off the screen, sneezing twice.

Mingyu’s face fell. Something in his brain clicked. “Hyung, are you sick?”

Jun nodded, swiping at his nose. “Yeah. Just a cold, though.” 

It was Mingyu’s turn to pout. “I’m sorry to hear that…” 

“It’s okay, really. It was bound to happen. I had to get thrown in a pool for a scene the other day, and wet clothes plus cold weather plus AC blasting inside PLUS erratic sleep hours…” He shrugged. “It’s more annoying than anything.” He sniffled, rubbing at his nose again. “Besides, I’ve had worse.”

“But we’re not there to take care of you!”

“No, and that’s definitely been felt. Luckily I have the next two days off anyway, and my cast mates have been really kind…”

“But they're not us,” Mingyu interrupted. 

Jun shook his head. “No, they’re not you.” 

Mingyu couldn’t fight the frown off his face. Yes, of all the members, Junhui was probably one of the most adept at taking care of himself when sick; he never made a fuss about it but advocated for his needs and spoke up to let others know what was going on, took his medicine and drank plenty of fluids and slept as much as possible. But just because Jun was self-sufficient didn’t mean he had to be. When he was at home, in the dorm, with his team, they knew how to take care of him without being asked. Mingyu knew exactly how Jun liked his tea, knew which blanket in the living room he preferred, knew the recipes that comforted him the most. And knowing that his brother was so far away from all that… it broke his heart.  

“Gyu? Are you still with me?”

“Y-yeah. I’m just… bummed that you’re sick and I can’t be there with you.”

Jun laughed. “I’m pretty sure you have better things to do then hang out with me and my germs.”

“Okay, fine, I’d rather not hang out with your germs, but I’d take them if it meant I could hug you.”

“Are you homesick for me?”

Mingyu blinked. “Honestly, yeah, I think so. Aren’t you?” The words escaped his mouth before he could stop them. He slapped a hand against his mouth, eyes comically wide. 

Thankfully Jun laughed before his smile turned thoughtful. “Desperately. But I am also so happy to be here. This all feels so…”  He began to move his hands in a circle, searching for the right word. He opened his mouth to respond, but pitched forward with another sneeze instead. “See, I don’t even have words for how much I miss you!”

Mingyu chuckled, shaking his head. “Should I let you get back to resting, then?” 

“No, no, I want to hear about the comeback!”

“Are you sure?”

Jun nodded. “Talking with you has been the highlight of my week.”

So, beaming brighter than the sun, Mingyu talked. He explained every detail of their comeback from practice to pre-recording to performances. He explained their outfits, their sets, the memes and jokes that they’d created. After a few minutes, distracted in his story, Mingyu noticed that Jun’s eyes had slipped closed. He hadn’t noticed when that had happened. 

“Hyung? Are you still with me?”

Jun smiled before opening his eyes. “Yes, I’m listening. Your voice is putting me to sleep, though, it’s so peaceful. It’s like magic.” 

“Adila kiya akiya shurapoeh / With a language only we know, I cast a spell,” Mingyu sang softly. Jun beamed. Mingyu continued singing, starting back at the top of “Spell.” Jun moved his shoulders along to the beat, arms twisting and winding in an interpretive version of the actual choreography. Mingyu’s voice grew sillier in time with Jun’s movements until both of them were giggling hysterically. 

Suddenly a knock came on Mingyu’s door. He turned to see Joshua poking his head in, gesturing that it was time for dinner. Mingyu nodded before turning back to the phone. “Okay, hyung, I’m so sorry but I gotta go.”

“That’s okay. Thanks for chatting so long. I love you, Gyu.” Jun formed a heart with his hands. 

Mingyu copied the gesture. “Love you too, Junnie. Feel better soon, okay? Pretend I’m there giving you the biggest hug in the world.”

Jun wrapped his arms around himself. “I can feel the love.” 

“Good. Bye, hyung.”

“Bye bye!”