#oh no i needed that textbook. i have to piece those back

[technicalknockout]

PIGEON OC LORE DUMP PIGEON OC LORE DUMP ❗️❗️❗️❗️

*flaps excitedly* PIGEON OC LORE DUMP

warning long and incoherent with way too many elizabeths than required

Oh my god i realized there is no fricking way im explaining everything today theres so MUCH HDKKSJDKS i'll just explain the basic mythology and some of my favorite guys

Ok we need to start with the gods

Once upon a time there was nothing. One day Nothing decided it wanted to be something. It split itself into multiple parts and those parts became the first three gods. The part of Nothing that wanted to be something became Creator (cre) and the part that liked being Nothing became Red (ree. This is a placeholder name i really cant decide on a fitting name for red hdjsdkskd). Also there was this indecisive middle guy and their name is Astral (starry. Starry is important because they're the responsible sibling. They mostly do everything)

These are the Incompetent God Siblings. There are smaller gods who split from the siblings but theyre mostly irrelevant. Also the gods look like birds (actually it's the other way around, birds look like gods because the gods wanted to put something that looks like themselves in the mortal realm. Kind of like self insert ocs dhjskfkd) so i also call them Birbs

Anyway the thousands of new gods just hung around for some time in their newfound existance until cre decided this was boring. So the gods all decided to make some universes with stuff in it. Except ree who was against the whole 'existing' thing in the first place and was a grump about it, so the gods conpromised with ree and put a expiration date on the universe. Spoilers: this leads to some politic problems later on

So tada theres a universe now. Multiple universes. Parallel worlds are relevant later but that would make this post longer than an entire novel series so dropping that topic

Now onto the actual ocs dhjdkskfks

Domino aka Elizabeth the 3rd. (Some quick background lore, the elizabeths are guys who are trapped in an unending loop of reincarnation (courtesy of ree). They all have their own memories and personalities but share some core traits such as god obsession) Domino is part of the "villain squad" in the plot and a (pseudo)scientist who works at the shadow government. She's very cold and NOT interested in anything except for her (ethically questionable) experiments concerning angels and, unfortunately, the main characters. She was relatively fine until she got involved in some plot relevant scheme as a kid and almost died now shes Not Fine.. has two lab assistants Apel Pine (pineapple) and Stein Mango (mangosteen. Theyre 9 years old, twins and orphans, domino named them and yes she is canonically bad at names). Pineapple is traumatized and deprieved of affection, desperately seeking love from domino who is the only thing close to a parent figure he's ever had. Domino does not notice nor does she care.. which makes pineapple :(. He's aggressive to others and needs therapy. Unlike him though, mangosteen is very okay! Mostly because pineapple tried his very best to protect mango from the bad things in life. It worked and pineapple now has twice the trauma he was supposed to have, while mango has none. He turned out as a silly little guy who is oblivious to the horrors and he tries really really hard to make everyone get along. And he likes snow :D theres a short backstory behind pineapple and mango from before they were domino's assistants which explains why theyre Like That, which i will maybe perhaps talk about later

Also in a different universe theres a 12 year old menace called damo who wears a poncho thingie and claims to be the most evil villain in the whole universe (she isnt she has no idea what a villain is, she thinks theyre cool people who explode stuff). She likes bombs and doing disney villain laughs. She is the silly ever and nothing bad happens to her and i love her very very much

[theemporium]

[7.6k] jack totally wasn't in love with his frat's president. and he totally wasn't in love with his president's girlfriend. and this totally isn't the story of how the three of them realised they fell in love with each other. (smut)

.

“Really?” 

You bit back the grin threatening to take over your face, attempting to school your features to a neutral expression as you glanced down at the textbook opened up in front of you. You let out a hum in response, but didn’t glance over at your boyfriend who was sprawled on his bed a few feet away from you.

“You are a menace.” 

You glanced over your shoulder, finding Nico already staring back at you with an amused expression on his face—despite what his downturned frowning lips said. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you answered eventually with an innocent look.

Nico shot you a look. “Baby.”

“Nico,” you retorted in the same serious tone.

A few moments passed before he looked away, rolling his eyes and shaking his head as he glanced down at his phone. “He’s going to get such a big head if he sees this,” he murmured, though there was something fond in his voice. “God knows Jack doesn’t need a bigger head.”

You raised your brows. “Does that mean you’re gonna keep it?”

“You’ll just change it back anyways,” Nico retorted, and you didn’t disagree with him. 

Instead, you stood up from the seat by his desk where you had been studying before he came in from class around thirty minutes ago. You made your way towards the bed, not even fighting your boyfriend as he reached for you and tugged you to lay on top of him. You propped your head on his chest, grinning at him.

“The contact name fits him and you know it does,” you said in a knowing voice. 

“Favourite Pledge is hardly a creative name anyways,” Nico deflected, but you saw right through him. 

One of the things you loved about Nico Hischier was his loyalty. It was one of those defining traits that made you fall more in love with him than you ever deemed humanly possible. He was loyal to his family, to his friends, to anyone that meant the world to him. His heart was split, little pieces given to those he trusted with it and the whole frat inevitability was a part of that. 

He loved his frat brothers. He loved them when he first joined. He loved them as more of them entered and pledged. He loved them when they appointed him president, even when he was just a sophomore. The frat loved him as much as he loved them. 

But it was an undeniable fact to anyone with working eyes that he had a soft spot for the new pledge, Jack Hughes. 

He didn’t admit it out loud. He always claimed to love his brothers equally, that it was impossible to have favourites. Though, you knew he just felt a little bad about it. He felt guilty that the younger boy had claimed a little bit more of his heart than the other frat brothers had. 

Yet, no matter how hard he tried to deny it, Jack Hughes had wiggled his way into his heart. 

You knew it stemmed from the fact the Swiss saw a bit of himself in the boy. Though Nico adored the frat and the community it gave him, he wasn’t shy of the fact he only joined to follow his older brother’s footsteps—something Jack himself had also done. 

The fact Jack had also tried out for the university’s hockey team—and was incredibly talented on the ice—was the final nail in the coffin for Nico (even if he still tried to deny the coffin existed). 

“But it’s true,” you sang with a smug look on your face. 

Nico rolled his eyes but the action was fond. “He was gonna grab some coffee on his way back from class, do you want anything?” 

“The usual,” you answered, leaning down to peck his lips before you moved to sit back at his desk. “Oh, ask him if he can get one of those muffins too. The lemon one.”

There was a pause as Nico typed out his reply before he snorted. “He said he already picked one up for you.”

Your expression brightened. “Well, if he isn’t your favourite pledge, then he definitely is mine.”

Nico shook his head. “So now you’re stealing him from me?’

“Is this you admitting he’s your favourite pledge?” You retorted. 

A few moments of silence passed, neither one of you saying anything nor looking away. Seconds ticked by, Nico’s phone continued to buzz on the bed and a ping sounded from your laptop when an email came through. But still, neither one of you looked away.

Until the buzzing became more insistent and Nico’s eyes snapped down to look at his screen, something fond in his gaze as messages about Jack complaining on how long the coffee was taking came through. 

“Ha! I was right!” You grinned, clapping your hands together but Nico didn’t have it in him to argue this time. 

He had shifted to sit with his back against the headboard and his laptop lying across his thighs when Jack finally burst through the bedroom door fifteen minutes later, holding a carrier of coffees and a bag of sweet treats. 

“Miss me?” 

You turned to see Jack already beginning to make himself comfortable as he dumped his backpack by the door and toed off his shoes. He handed you your coffee first with the lemon muffin in his other hand. “Mrs President.”

You snorted. “Thank you, Jack.”

He beamed before he grabbed Nico’s coffee and the cookie Nico pretended not to like (even though he really, really did). “Mr President.” 

“You’re in a chipper mood today,” Nico noted as he thanked the younger boy, taking the coffee and cookie to place on the bedside table beside him. He then turned towards Jack again, mouth open like he was about to say something—only for Jack to faceplant down on the bed the second the coffee was out of his hands. “You good?” 

“Tired,” he grumbled, his words muffled with his face buried into the duvet. “Plus, algebra sucks.”

Nico’s face softened a little. “You should take a nap, we have a big game later.”

“M’fine,” he murmured in response, but it convinced no one.

“Sleep, Jack,” you said as you glanced at the boy, his eyes already shut but his shoulders tense like he was preparing himself to sit up again. “You can nap here.”

Jack froze before lifting his head, blinking slowly as he stared between you and Nico. “Really?”

“Sleep here,” Nico confirmed with a nod, reaching over to playfully ruffle his hair. However, the act just made Jack slump back down onto the bed, his face buried in the duvet once again. “I’ll wake you up so we can eat before the game.”

“M’kay,” he managed to mutter out, seconds away from falling asleep.

Nico watched with a small smile before he grabbed a blanket, placing it over Jack and making sure he was settled before he grabbed his laptop to work again. He cleared his throat a little, though the smile never left his face as he began to type away.

“Oh, you’re so obvious,” you murmured with a snort.

Nico glanced up at you. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“Hm, I’m sure,” you mused as you settled back in your chair. “So, you’d just let anyone nap on your bed? With your favourite blanket?”

He shot you a look. “I let you do it all the time.”

Your grin widened. “Exactly.” 

Nico rolled his eyes, refusing to continue the conversation any further. And because you were a nice girlfriend, you chose not to mention the light pink tint to his cheeks. Or the fond smiles Nico would give Jack whenever he glanced over. 

Or the photo you snuck of the two of them, curled up and looking so comfy in bed together. 

…

To absolutely nobody’s surprise, the boys smashed the game with a 7-1 win to continue their nine game win streak. 

And to celebrate their win, the frat decided to hold a massive—and last minute—rager in honour of Nico, Jack and the rest of the hockey team. Though, you weren’t convinced it was as last minute as Trevor made it out to be considering the kegs were definitely being delivered to the house before you left to go watch the game.

The house was packed with frat brothers, hockey teammates and strangers alike, with no real invitation but with an overwhelming need to celebrate by getting shit-faced drunk nonetheless. Music was blasting from the countless speakers set around the house, every open surface looked like an Ibiza bar with bottles sprawled across it and the hockey boys were getting their chance to really celebrate with no practice or game until next week holding them back.

“Drink up, Mrs P!” 

You bit back your laugh as you inspected the cup Trevor was handing you. His cheeks were flushed, his grin was huge and you had no doubt that whatever was in the cup was the result of him and Cole concocting their own makeshift cocktails to get people as drunk as they were. 

“Do I even want to know what’s in this?” You questioned, a teasing glint in your voice as you sniffed the cup. 

Trevor didn’t even look bashful. “Don’t worry, we made sure to add more of Nico’s fancy Swiss lager in yours. He can’t get mad at us then.”

You actually did laugh this time. “You boys need to stop putting me in the crossfire. He’s your president.” 

“And you’re our Mrs President,” Trevor retorted. “It’s literally your job to stop him from killing us.”

“I don’t remember signing up for this.”

“You do it because you love us?” Trevor replied, a boyish grin on his face that made your heart warm in your chest. 

“Yeah, I do love you idiots,” you grumbled, though there was a smile on your face as you patted his cheek, amused at the way his grin widened at the action. 

“Maybe some of us more than others,” he supplied, something mischievous glinting in his eyes. 

You sighed. “Trevor, if this is about me giving Cole the last slice of apple pie—”

“I’m talking about Jack and we both know it.” he sang, delighted in the way you quickly stopped talking. “I see the way you and Nico look at him.”

You frowned a little. “We don’t love him more than we love the rest of you—”

“You love the rest of us like we are your kids,” Trevor corrected, still thoroughly amused by the conversation. “You and Nico look at Jack like you want to sleep with him.”

You let out a startled laugh. “Trev—”

“And he looks like he would take anything you give him,” the boy continued, looking far too smug at the way you trapped your bottom lip between your teeth. “Don’t worry, Mrs P, I’ll keep your secret.” 

You didn’t get a chance to respond before the boy had wandered off, disappearing into the throng of partygoers. Though, if you were being completely honest with yourself, you weren’t even sure what you would have replied with. Maybe it was a blessing he walked away first.

“You good?”

You blinked before turning your head, finding Nico standing there with his brows furrowed in concern. You could feel his hand on your lower back, a soft and comforting touch that you leaned into. 

“Yeah,” you said and flashed him a smile. “Just contemplating if I want to risk drinking whatever Trevor and Cole made me.” 

Nico snorted but it was fond. “I’ll hold your hair back later if you risk it.”

You grinned. “My hero.”

“Always,” Nico grinned back, leaning down to peck your lips before he dragged you back to the party in the direction of the back garden where the hockey team seemed to have accumulated. 

Yet, no matter how hard you tried, Trevor’s words lingered with you for the rest of the party, playing on a loop you couldn’t stop.

…

The irony of it all was that you knew, deep down, Trevor was right. 

It shouldn’t have been a shock when it was something you had been aware of for a while, even subconsciously. As much as you teased and taunted Nico, there was something different about Jack in comparison to the other pledges and frat brothers. It wasn’t a favouritism, it went beyond that. There was something more with Jack, something deeper. 

And you always knew it. 

It just took the realisation that other people—that Trevor—had noticed it too. It wasn’t this secret hidden in your heart or an inside joke between you and Nico, it was beyond that. Your feelings weren’t as subtle as you thought. And neither were Nico’s. And apparently neither were Jacks’.

Everyone saw it but you three, and now you were painfully aware and pining.

Because that was the only way you could describe how you had felt since the party. You had been pining after Jack. It was like the conversation with Trevor opened the box you had desperately been locking shut, and now you were overwhelmed with your feelings for the younger boy. 

And Nico noticed too. 

He hadn’t mentioned it, not directly. But he noticed a shift in you since the party. He noticed the way your eyes lingered on Jack a little longer than usual when he walked in a room. He noticed the way you seemed to drag Jack to sit with the two of you whenever you got the chance. He noticed the way your touch would linger on Jack, the way you did with him. 

It made his stomach twist with a desire he didn’t know was possible, he didn’t know he wanted.

It was enthralling to watch you watch Jack, to watch you look at Jack the same way you look at him. Maybe because he knew he was no different. He knew it was all leading to something, you did too. 

Neither of you expected it to happen just two weeks after the party when the frat found themselves at the campus bar on a random Thursday.

It was somewhere between your second and third drink. The frat were spread across the establishment: some were by the bar chatting with some strangers, others were playing pool on the tables at the back, the rest were sprawled over the booths and seats around the room. 

You had settled on a small couch, a vodka rum in hand as you watched Trevor and Cole attempt to talk up some girls from one of their shared classes a few feet away. Trevor had been insistent he could get their numbers, and Cole had just wanted to be close enough to see the trainwreck. And you had thoroughly enjoyed watching them both. 

“Budge up!” 

You let out a small huff when Jack unexpectedly collapsed onto the couch beside you, but you didn’t argue as you shifted until you were both squished together. Your thigh was pressed against his, your shoulders shoved together, but neither of you moved away even if there was enough space on the couch to put a few inches between you. 

“You seem chipper,” you commented, eyeing the flush to his cheeks and the grin on his face. You wonder how many beers one of the older brothers had slipped him through the night.

“Just handed Turc’s ass in pool,” Jack told you, puffing his chest proudly. 

“That’s shocking considering you’re shit,” you teased, nudging into his side a little. 

“Hey, that was an unfair advantage one time!” Jack huffed, but he was still smiling. “Nico was cheating.” 

You snorted. “How?” 

“I don’t know but nobody is naturally that good at pool,” he grumbled as he shifted back into the couch, his body sagging like the night was starting to catch up on him. “I think we should team up.” 

You raised your brows. “To what? Beat him at pool?”

“Mhm,” Jack nodded in confirmation. “We could distract him.”

“And how do you propose we do that?” You questioned, thoroughly amused. 

“I think our pretty faces are enough,” he answered confidently. “Bat a couple eyelashes, maybe throw a few flirty comments in there and he’ll be useless.”

This time you actually laughed and Jack’s smile widened at the sound.

“What? You don’t think I could do it?”

“Oh no, I think you could and you’d be dangerous,” you assured him, shifting in your seat until your body was facing him. “I think my flirting would be lacklustre in comparison to yours.”

He gave you a small shove. “Nah, you have him wrapped around your finger. He would fold at whatever you said.”

Almost instinctively, your eyes began searching the bar for your boyfriend before you found him on the other side of the room. He was standing by one of the pool tables, leaning against the cue as he watched Jesper take a shot with a fond smile on his face. He looked laid back, his flannel abandoned somewhere to leave him in the tight-fitting t-shirt, his cap placed backwards on his head to keep his hair out of his face. He looked relaxed, young even. Like he didn’t have the responsibility of a frat, hockey and college on his mind. 

And like he could sense you, his eyes turned to look at you and his smile widened. He glanced at you, and then the boy beside you, before his gaze returned to you. 

And then, the little fucker winked. 

“See,” Jack said, laughing a little but it sounded off. 

You turned back to look at Jack, finding his eyes still locked on Nico. You noticed the slight flush to his cheeks, and a part of you wondered if he was just as affected by your boyfriend as you were. You wondered how long you had been oblivious to it if this was how he was staring at Nico. You wondered if he looked at you the same way. 

“He’s no better with you,” you eventually spoke, watching as his eyes quickly snapped back to you. His cheeks went redder. “Don’t underestimate that pretty face of yours.”

And you could see the cogs turning in his head. You could see him picking apart your words, can see the way he shifts in his spot. And you can see the way he tries to act like it doesn’t affect him when it does.

“You think I’m pretty?” 

Because he’s Jack and when things get overwhelming, he resorts to some weird mix of joking and flirting because it feels safer than whatever the truth is. Because you knew as much as he wanted to believe you, he couldn’t quite admit it out loud yet, admit it to himself. 

And you also knew he sometimes just needed a push in the right direction.

“I think,” you started as you lifted your hand, hesitating for a small moment before you pushed your fingers through his hair. You watched his eyes flutter shut, his body leaning further into your touch. “You’re one of the prettiest people I know.”

He gulped a little, blinking his eyes open. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you confirmed with a nod. 

And maybe it was the newfound realisation of your feelings. Or maybe it was the confidence you felt in the way he stared at you, like you hung the fucking moon. Or maybe it was a cumulation of the alcohol you had drunk since you arrived that fuelled it all. 

You weren’t sure what it was. 

But his eyes dropped to your lips for a few seconds too long and the next thing you knew, you were leaning in and pressing your lips against his. 

Your hand dropped to cup his cheek, the growing stubble brushed against your palm as you deepened the kiss. He let out a noise, something sweet and whiny and you wanted to bottle it up to listen to it forever. He let you guide the kiss, let you take control as your tongue swiped along his bottom lip. 

His eyes were still shut when you parted for a few seconds. But yours were open and staring just past his head, where Nico was standing. 

He was already staring at you, both of you. And you knew he wouldn’t be mad, but there was still something about the pure lust and want in his gaze that made your stomach dip. The way his lips twitched upwards when he saw you staring back, the way he nodded his head a little like it was a challenge. 

He was halfway across the room and, yet, still seemed to be enjoying this as much as the two of you. 

But before you could even bring yourself to take him up on his challenge, before you could close the distance between you and Jack and kiss him again, he was pulling away completely.

“Shit,” he breathed out, his wide eyes staring at you with an expression full of surprise and shock. 

Your brows furrowed. “Jack?”

“Shit,” he repeated, and you barely had a chance to wrap your head around any of it before he was quickly standing up. He stared at you, his face scrunched up and his lips parted like he wanted to say something but couldn’t seem to find the words.

“Jack,” you called out, your voice soft and concerned as you reached out for him but he jerked away from the touch.

“I am so sorry,” was all he managed to get out before he made a beeline towards the door.

You watched him rush out like he was being chased before your head turned, finding Nico watching the exit with a mixed expression of hurt and concern. 

And as you stood there, in the middle of the bar, feeling oddly cold and confused about the last thirty seconds, you couldn’t help but feel like you fucked something up without realising it.

…

Jack was avoiding you. 

He thought he was being subtle with it, but it was clear to everyone what was happening. He was hardly in the house anymore unless it was to sleep. And even then, he was still going out of his way to leave insanely early and come back very late. You hardly even saw him on campus. 

You hardly saw him at all.

And it was one thing if he was avoiding you, but he was avoiding Nico too and you could tell it was hurting him. You could tell it bothered him that Jack was hardly around the house, that he was having to get updates from Trevor or the other boys, that he went out of his way to avoid Nico at hockey practice too. 

It hurt and everyone could see the three of you suffering, but Trevor the worst. 

“He thinks you hate him,” the boy said one day when you were in the kitchen, pushing your pasta around your plate with no real appetite to eat.

You frowned. “What?” 

“Jack thinks you and Nico hate him because of what happened at the bar,” Trevor continued, shrugging his shoulders. “Something about making you kiss him and getting between your relationship.”

Your frown deepened. “But I kissed him. Not the other way around.”

“Yeah, well, that’s not how he sees it,” Trevor muttered, the usual smile on his face replaced with a concerned frown. “He thinks Nico is going to kick him out the frat.”

You dropped your fork. “What? That’s insane! Nico would never do that.”

“That’s what he believes though and the guy can be fucking stubborn,” Trevor huffed out. “I have tried telling him he is overthinking it but he just gets upset about it. He thinks he is delaying the inevitable.”

You let out a sigh.

Trevor continued. “He just needs to realise that he didn’t ruin his president’s relationship and that you both actually want to fuck him—”

“Trevor.” 

“—and then everything will be fine,” he concluded like it was easy. Like you could just walk up to Jack and tell him as much. As if he hadn’t been actively avoiding you for the last week.

“Yeah, that’s all,” you murmured, your mind wandering as the boy continued to ramble on about some business analytics class he was taking.

…

In classic president fashion, Nico was the one who had enough of the weird game the three of you had been playing for the last few weeks. He couldn’t take it anymore, so he was going to do what he did best, and he was going to fix the mess. 

He couldn’t handle seeing you heartbroken over it any longer.

He couldn’t handle Jack hiding away from him like he was a stranger. 

He couldn’t handle the overwhelming emptiness in his chest that had been haunting him since Jack ran out of the bar.

He couldn’t fucking handle any of it anymore.

All in all, it was embarrassingly easy to manipulate and puppeteer the whole thing. It was a bit of a slap in the face, to realise that something could have been done weeks ago. But Nico tried not to linger on the thought for too long. 

Plus, getting Jack in the same room as the two of you was the easy part.

Convincing him the two of you were just as gone for him as he was for you was going to be the hard part. Especially considering the fact Jack was one of the most stubborn and iron-willed people he had ever met in his life.

But he would be damned if another day went by where Jack Hughes didn’t know how the two of you felt for him. 

“Trev, how many books do you have that you need my help with?”

“I borrowed a lot! The librarian likes me.”

“And why have you not returned then?”

“...I forgot.” 

Nico could feel you tense beside him as the voices on the other side of the door got closer. He reached over, placing a warm and comforting hand on the small of your back as you sagged back against him. The footsteps got closer and closer until there was a pause. 

“Isn’t this Nico’s room?”

“Uh, no!”

“Trev—” 

The next thirty seconds passed in a blink of the eye. The door swung open and you could pinpoint the exact moment Jack saw the two of you. His eyes widened, his face fell and he was frozen in his spot. It gave Trevor more than enough time to shove him deeper into the room, call out a ‘you’re welcome!’ before he slammed the door shut behind him. 

Jack cleared his throat. “Sorry, I’m just gonna—”

“No,” Nico stepped forward, trying to hide the desperate tint to his words. “No, stay. Please.” 

Jack shifted in his spot. “I have some homework to—”

“Jack,” Nico interrupted, a deep sigh following as he shot the younger boy a look. “We know you’re ignoring us.”

Jack froze before he let out a strained laugh. “What? No! I’ve just been busy—”

“Jack.” This time you stepped forward, a frown painted on your lips. “Please, we know. We aren’t stupid.”

“Talk to us,” Nico said as he continued to walk forward until he was only a few steps from the boy. “Talk to me.” 

Jack glanced between the two of you, a conflict clearly playing out in his head before he eventually blurted out, “I didn’t mean to be a homewrecker!” 

Nico blinked, his brows furrowed together. “A what?”

You shook your head. “Jack—”

“I-I just…listen, you don’t have to say it. I get it. I know.” Jack swallowed, shifting in his spot once again. “I didn’t mean to…I…” There was a pause before he let out a breath. “You don’t have to worry about me…doing anything again. I won’t. I promise. And…and if you want me to leave the frat, I get it.” 

His eyes were focused on the ground, staring at some random spot between his feet as he finally got out the words that had been weighing heavily on his chest for the last few weeks. But with his gaze downward, he missed the way Nico’s face softened completely at his admission. 

“And if we want you to do it again?” 

Jack blinked before he lifted his head. “What?”

Nico swallowed before he closed the small distance between them, keeping his eyes on the boy. “And what if we want you to do it again? What if we don’t want you to stop?”

He blinked with a look of pure discombobulation on his face. “Huh? But I…I kissed your girlfriend.” 

“Jack.” Nico sighed, and it sounded so fond as he lifted his hands to hold the younger boy’s face. “You kissed my girlfriend.” 

“Uh, yeah, I just said that,” Jack murmured, his cheeks burning.

“I am not mad, I like kissing my girlfriend too,” Nico told him.

Jack frowned a little. “Well, yeah, she’s your girlfriend—”

“And,” Nico interrupted, taking a deep breath before he continued. “She liked kissing you too.” 

Jack blinked. 

“If anything, I was jealous she kissed you first,” he continued, his thumbs lightly swiping over the apples of his cheek.

“Oh,” was the only response Jack managed. 

You made your way over, leaning against your boyfriend’s arms as you stared at Jack with a soft smile on your lips. “He’s wanted to kiss you for a while. You are his favourite.”

Nico’s lips twitched upwards but, for the first time, he didn’t deny it. “Yeah. Yeah, you are.” 

Jack looked between the two of you as he tried to process the last thirty seconds in his head. And then he let out a laugh, a little nervous and hesitant. “You…you want to kiss me too?” 

Nico nodded.

“Is this, like, some weird couples kink?” Jack blurted out, blood roaring in his ears and he was half-tempted to pull away if he knew he wouldn’t miss Nico’s touch on him. “Or has Trevor set you up to this? Because that is not cool—”

And then, Nico was kissing him.

Albeit, it was short and nowhere near as passionate as the one you and Jack shared at the bar, but it got the job done. It shut the boy up. It showed him this was far from a joke.

“For fuck’s sake, Jack,” Nico groaned as he pulled away, resting their foreheads together like he tended to do after goal celebrations on the ice. “We are in love with you, you idiot. You wrecked nothing.” 

Jack let out a shaky breath as he pulled back a little. “You’re what?”

You stepped forward, catching his hand in yours before he stepped away completely. “This isn’t a joke. This isn’t some weird kink. This is just us telling you that we like you. Love you, even. This is us asking you to fix whatever mess we accidentally created because, Jack, I can’t handle you ignoring us again. We can’t handle that.”

His face softened. “You mean it?” 

“Every word,” you confirmed with a nod.

“You want me?” He asked, and it broke your heart a little. You don’t think you had ever heard Jack Hughes sound so doubtful, so unsure of himself.

“We want you, baby,” Nico murmured, his hand dropping to cup the back of Jack’s neck as he smiled at the boy. 

“I—” Jack’s shoulders sagged a little, like he could finally breathe for the first time in weeks. Like the weight and lingering guilt had been removed from his shoulders. “Shit, I really dragged this out, huh?” 

You laughed, shaking your head. “We got there eventually.”

“Even after I ran out on you?” Jack questioned.

“You can make it up to me,” you retorted, something mischievous shining in your eyes.

Almost instinctively, Jack’s eyes snapped over to Nico like he was seeking permission. 

Nico smiled a little, squeezing his neck once again in reassurance. “You don’t have to ask. You can just kiss her, baby.” 

“I know, I just…” He trailed off, his cheeks pretty and rosy and it made something twist deep in Nico’s gut. 

“You want me to tell you what to do?” Nico asked, his voice a little lower. A little gruff. “Need a little guidance, hm?” 

Jack swallowed but nodded, a little shy.

“Hm, gonna listen?” He continued to taunt the boy, feeling Jack’s pulse thump beneath his palm. “Not gonna be a brat?”

“Promise,” Jack nodded.

Nico smiled and it made his heart lurch with desire. “Kiss her, baby. Make it up to her.”

Jack’s eyes shifted over to you. 

You were watching him with a fond smile, head tilted in curiosity as you watched the interaction play out between the two of him. The second his attention was on you, you raised your brows in challenge, waiting to see if he really would listen to Nico’s instructions. 

There were only a few beats of hesitation before Jack leaned forward, one hand on your face and the other on your waist as he pulled you towards him. The kiss was nothing like the one from the bar, it was far better. It almost felt like he had been holding back on you before.

A soft moan escaped your lips as you sunk into the kiss, as you let Jack take control this time, as you let him express the months of wanting and pining he had been holding onto him. You could feel his arm around your waist tightening, could feel his body pressed against yours as he held you close. 

Nico settled behind Jack, his hands on the younger boy’s waist as he watched with pure desire and intent in his gaze. 

You let out a small gasp when he nipped your bottom lip before pulling away, both of you panting and desperately breathing in the air your lungs were crying out for.

“Hm,” Nico hummed, his chin hooked on Jack’s shoulder as he looked at you. “What do you say, baby? Think he made up for the last few weeks?”

You almost felt like you were in a daze as you shook your head. “More.”

“More?” Nico grinned, squeezing Jack’s waist. “What do you say, Jack? Wanna give our girl more?”

He gulped a little at the use of ‘our girl’. 

“You want to make her feel good? Beg for her forgiveness?” Nico continued, his head dipping down until his lips were tracing over Jack’s neck. He felt the boy shiver as he pressed a kiss to his pulse point. “Want me to teach you what she likes?” 

“Please,” Jack breathed out, his eyes fluttering shut. “Fuck. Please. Yes.”

Nico lifted his gaze to look at you—a look you knew all too well.

“Bed. Now.” 

The hands on his waist kept Jack locked in place as he watched you step out of his hold. He watched you continue to walk backwards until you reached the edge of the bed and quickly settled yourself down on the mattress, looking at Nico with that same expression Jack had given him earlier. 

Nico pulled Jack closer, his chest pressed against the younger boy’s back as his breath tickled along his skin. Jack’s eyes fluttered shut as he began to kiss along his neck, teeth grazing against the sensitive spots that made his body push back into Nico’s. 

He leaned back against the boy, his head falling back on his shoulder as Nico’s hands began to wander. 

“Take off your pants,” Nico said to you, his voice rougher than moments earlier as he pushed one hand under the hem of Jack’s shirt.

Jack let out a small sound, a whimpering noise that was borderline embarrassing but Nico didn’t seem to mind. Instead, the boy lifted his head from Jack’s neck and used his free hand to grip his chin and turn his head so he could finally kiss him properly. 

You watched them from your spot on the bed as you shimmied your jeans down your legs. You watched the way Nico held Jack’s face, the way his tongue swept along his lips before sinking into his mouth. You watched the way Jack’s body keened under the touch, the way his body shifted to seek more of him. You watched the way they fit together so well, like a perfect match.

Your boys.

Yours.

“Look at her,” Nico grumbled as he pulled away, despite the fact Jack kept shifting closer to kiss him again. “So impatient. Such a brat.” 

Jack blinked slowly, his brain feeling like it was ten seconds behind as he turned his head to look at you. His lips parted in surprise as he found you sitting on Nico’s bed, clad in your shirt (it was really one of Nico’s) and your panties with your fingers tracing the waistband.

“M’not a brat,” you responded with a huff.

Nico grinned, leaning down to lightly nip Jack’s earlobe. “She’s such a brat,” he murmured, his large hand still splayed on Jack’s stomach and it made his head feel funny. “Gonna help me take care of her?” 

He nodded.

“Go on then,” Nico said as he lightly patted Jack on his ass before stepping back. “Kneel in front of her. Be a good boy.” 

He bit back the small whine he wanted to let out as he closed the distance between you and him, pausing for a moment when you reached for his shirt and yanked him down to kiss him. He sunk into the kiss quickly, letting out a relieved moan as he felt your tongue exploring his mouth. 

He placed his hands on either side of you, happy to just feel your lips on his and hear the little sighs you let out against his mouth. 

“Touch me, Jack,” you murmured softly between kisses. 

Jack’s brain short circuited as he pulled back to look at you, hooded eyes blinking as he took in your glossy eyes and flushed expression. Almost instinctively, his eyes darted downwards to see the way you were clenching your thighs together. 

“Beg him,” Nico spoke from a few feet away.

Jack gulped a little as he glanced back up at you, seeing the same hint of desperation he felt bubbling inside him.

“Please touch me, baby,” you whispered, leaning closer until your noses were brushing against each other and you could feel the shaky breath he let out. “Fuck, Jack, I wanna know how you feel. Thought about it so many times. Thought about you inside me.”

His eyes fluttered shut. “Shit.” 

Because, if Jack Hughes was completely honest with himself, the whole thing felt like a dream. He had many of them since he joined the frat, since he met you and Nico and felt every perspective he had on his sexuality be thrown out the window. He had so many that eventually the guilt washed away to a more permanent emotion. 

He lost track of the amount of times he dreamed of your soft hands or Nico’s board shoulders or his lips on either one of yours. He lost track of the amount of times he woke up hot and sweaty and panting in his bed. He lost track of the amount of times he fisted his cock in the shower, early in the morning when no one else was awake and he didn’t have to hide his pants and moans of your names as he came. 

A small part of him was waiting for the moment to hit. He was waiting for the dream to no longer feel so real, for the edges to start to blur as his body began to wake up. He was waiting to wake up in his bed, hit with a pang of longing and loneliness with only a hard cock to show for it. 

But he didn’t want this dream to end. 

This felt like one of his most realistic ones yet and he wasn’t ready to let it go, he wasn’t ready to face his reality. He wasn’t ready for it to be fake. 

He squeezed the fat of your thighs as he guided your legs over his shoulder, as he kissed and sucked up and down the skin of your inner thighs like he always wanted to do. He clung onto you like his dream would rip you away, like he could prevent himself from being torn away from between your thighs.

Jack listened to the way you moaned and sighed beneath his touch, the way you cried out his name as his tongue swiped along your clothed cunt and sucked the fabric in his mouth. He clung onto the way your thighs squeezed his ears as his fingers tugged the fabric of your panties to the side, as he finally got his mouth on your pussy. 

He wasn’t ready to wake up and lose this. He wasn’t ready to wake up and lose the way Nico’s fingers felt tangled in his hair as he guided Jack’s head up as he ate you out. He wasn’t ready to lose the way Nico’s body felt pressed against his back, whispering what a good job he was doing as his lips wrapped around his earlobe the same way Jack was doing to your clit.

He needed to keep this. 

He needed this to be real. 

He needed—

“You’re so perfect, Jack,” Nico groaned from behind him, his hand reaching around to dip under the waistband of his trousers. “So fucking perfect. Our pretty boy, hm?” 

He needed it all to be real. 

Jack groaned against your cunt when Nico wrapped his hand around his cock, his hand so much bigger than his own. He took a moment, leaning his forehead against your thigh as Nico’s thumb lightly circled the head of his cock in a way that made his whole body shake.

“C’mon, baby, you said you wanted to make our girl feel good,” Nico whispered in his ear, pressed up against him as he continued to stroke his cock. “You only get to come when she comes.” 

“Nico,” Jack panted out, his eyes clenched shut as the older boy’s fist tightened around him.

“You said you’d be my good boy, Jack.”

“I will,” he breathed out, groaning as he bucked his hips. “I am.”

“Then make her come.” 

He needed this to be real. He wanted it to be real so fucking badly. He wanted this to be the life he lived, the life he had wished for constantly. He wanted for it to be you and him and Nico, he wanted it all. And maybe it made him greedy, but he needed it.

And Jack could feel everything building up. 

He could feel the way your body tensed and shook underneath him as he licked and sucked and kissed your soaking cunt, as he wrapped his lips around your clit until your back was arching off the bed. He could feel the hot rush of pleasure wash down his spine as Nico continued to stroke his cock, whispering filthy words in his ear that would haunt him for the rest of his life. He could feel the overwhelming rush of emotions bubbling inside him, ready to spill into some cold, bitterness when he woke up alone.

He could feel it all and it all came crashing down at once, it felt like it fucking winded him.

And he couldn’t bear to open his eyes at first. He couldn’t bear to open his eyes and see his own room around him. To see the sun shining in through his window because he forgot to close the curtains the night before. To see himself alone in his bed. To see whatever ungodly hour he had woken up at this time.

He couldn’t bear it just yet.

And then he felt a warmth against his back. It was comforting and familiar and he craved to feel more of it. And he felt a hand in his hair, lightly scratching his scalp in a way that made him whine a little.

“Shhh, you did so well, baby. So well for us, Jack,” a voice whispered, deep and rich and soothing. A voice he craved to hear constantly. 

Nico.

Because it wasn’t a dream. None of it was a dream. It was real. It was all real life. It was him and you and Nico. It was the three of you and neither of you were going anywhere and Jack wasn’t about to wake up in his room alone. 

It was all fucking real. 

“There he is,” you mused, your hand running through his hair as you watched his bleary eyes blink up at you. “Our pretty boy.” 

His cheeks flushed in response. 

“C’mon, need to get you cleaned up. I’ll get you another pair of sweatpants to wear and then we can nap, okay?” Nico asked, hardly giving Jack a chance to even answer before he pressed a kiss to the side of his head and stood up. 

He hated how cold he felt without Nico behind him.

“You okay?” You asked, your voice soft and concerned, and he just wanted to close his eyes and rest his head on your lap and stay there forever.

“Is this real?” He blurted out, only slightly embarrassed by his own bashfulness as you smiled down at him.

“So real, baby,” you murmured before tugging his head back enough to lean down and kiss him. “So fucking real.”

“Good,” he hummed as his eyes fluttered shut. “I love you both too, you know?”

“Yeah, we know.” 

And there was more to talk about. So much more to discuss and work out and really talk about. You knew that. Nico knew that. Jack knew it too. But it could wait. You had waited months to admit your feelings to yourselves and each other. You could wait just a little longer. 

It was a conversation to be had later, when you weren’t cuddled on Nico’s bed with both your boys pressed up against you as you surrendered yourself to the sleep your body was fighting. 

.

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

for a conrad x reader request- could you do one where conrad is just really overwhelmed and stressed out and just needs comfort and physical touch?

When I saw this hug in the trailer, my heart could not handle it. He looks so soft and sad and- It's probably one of my favorite moments

warnings: mention of cancer, sad!conrad

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

You knew something was off with Conrad when you received five calls in the past three days. 

This was a stark contrast to his usual pattern of calling you every night since he started college. Despite telling him it wasn’t necessary to call every night and prioritize his studies, Conrad was insistent that it wouldn't affect his grades.

During your calls, you noticed a change in his demeanor. He seemed distant and unengaged, merely listening to you without his usual laughter at your humor, which raised further suspicions that something was off. You suspected it was related to Susannah. She started this new treatment a few weeks ago and Conrad didn’t like being away from her. It worried him to be so far away from her.

You wanted to surprise him. Sparks some happiness into his sad eyes and bottles up hardships.

You stood on the other side of his dorm door, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness. You wanted everything to go perfectly, knowing that the impact of your surprise could mean so much to Conrad in his current state.

What if his roommate doesn’t want you there and gets into an argument with Conrad? What if Conrad doesn’t want you there? 

Your stomach twisted into a knot. 

Pushing those thoughts aside, you took a deep breath and gently knocked on the door, your heart pounding with anticipation as you waited. Moments later, the door opened, revealing Conrad's tired but surprised expression. 

‘’What are you doing here? I was just about to call.’’ 

You gave him a soft smile. ‘’This is much better than a phone call, isn’t it?’’ 

He nodded, the corner of his mouth curling slightly despite his overall tired appearance. The dark circles under his eyes could be from school alone, but this wasn’t just from getting less hours of sleep. His gaze was distracted, absent, by times. 

Like now.

‘’Are you gonna invite me in or do I have to camp outside your dorm?’’ you asked, snapping Conrad out of his thoughts.

‘’Oh, eh…yeah, sorry.’’ He stepped aside, inviting you in. ‘’I had a class at 8am, my brain is a bit tired.’’ 

It was a lie. But you didn’t say anything. 

‘’My roommate is at some frat party,’’ Conrad explained, closing the door and locking it. ‘’Shouldn’t be here until late. Very late. Unless he crashes at Deborah’s dorm.’’ 

You nodded, setting your bag on the floor on Conrad’s side of the room. It was small for two people, but what were you expecting? It’s a college dorm.

A frown formed when you saw how untidy Conrad’s space was. There was a mess of papers and textbooks scattered around on his desk, indicating the stress he was under with his studies, and the dirty laundry basket was full and spilled onto the floor a little. This was so unlike him. 

On his nightstand, you noticed a piece of photobooth strip and smiled. You took these at the mall last spring, right before Conrad overheard his parents and learned about Susannah’s cancer. It was the last time you saw him truly happy. The last time his mother’s health wasn’t constantly in the back of his mind. 

‘’You keep a picture of us by your bed,’’ you pointed out, picking up the photobooth strip. 

Conrad turned his head toward you. ‘’Yeah,’’ he admitted, rubbing his palms over his blue jeans. 

You set the photobooth strip back to its place and slowly stepped toward Conrad. Through the phone, he could hide behind his many walls, but in person, it was easy for you to see that he wasn't okay. You could see right through him.

‘’Connie? You know you can talk to me about anything, right?’’ 

Conrad nodded as he lowered his head. 

He tried to put on a brave front, but deep down, he wanted nothing more than to fall apart in your arms and stay there forever. Life had become such a heavy weight lately, he wasn't sure he could deal with it.

‘’Come here.’’ You drew him close and, like pieces falling into places, his arms wrapped around you and he rested his head on your shoulder with a vulnerability only you was allowed to see him in. You raised a hand to his shoulder, soothingly rubbing his back.  ‘’Nothing is alright,’’ he admitted, his arms tightening around you, seeking comfort and reassurance.

—

All and more taglist: @spiokybirdstarfish @kenqki @liidiaaag @hawkegfs  @gillybear17  @areaderinlove @acornacreacure @black-rose-29 @fudge13 @cece05 @rosie-cameron @Caxddce @laylasbunbunny @gemofthenight @beautyb1ade  @hi-bored-as-fcuk-rn  @lovelyy-moonlight @mellabella101 @vxnity713  @marzipaanz  @bisexualgirlsblog @queenofslytherin889 @thatbxtchesblog @softb-tterfly @ethanlandrycanbreakmyheart  @xyzstar  @graceberman3  @Heartsforneteyamsully  @aerangi  @hallecarey1  @bxbyyyjocelyn @mikeyspinkcup

TSITP taglist: @msmarvelknight  @maritaleane @dingus0401 @idontknowwhatimdoing777 @nomorespahgetti @lomlolivia @5sosbands @bloodyhw @depthsofdespairr @a-band-aid-for-your-heart @gilbertscurls @brandirouse86 @leilani-nichole @Veescorneroftheworld @papayaboyluvr  @bchindureyes @bellysbeach  @slytherinambitious @darylscvmdumpster 

[xoxoxkisses]

In your eyes

Muichiro x fem!Reader

desc: muichiro falls for the quiet girl, being known as the popular boy, he has to decide to risk his popularity for her or not. Warnings: slight angst, fluff, aged up, slight bullying, cursing

————————————————————————

You had just left class when you heard the teacher call you back. “Y/n! Can you come here please?” You were ready to come home after a long day of school, but you couldn’t just ignore the teacher, especially after you had shown you had heard her. You turned around and started walking back to her class. Once you were outside the door, she ushered you inside. You walked in as she shut the door and you saw Muichiro. You’ve had a crush on Muichiro since middle school. He was always civil with you whenever the two of you had to talk to one another, but other than that, he avoided you.

“Y/n, Tokito here needs a tutor, and after some discussion you are the best we can find.” You looked at her and back at him where he was looking away and crossing his arms. “O-okay.” The teacher clapped her hands together. “Great! The two of you need to discuss some things such as times to meet and where. But the two of you are dismissed now!” You both nodded and left the room. Muichiro stopped you. He grabbed your shoulder and turned you around. “Here’s my number. If it’s okay with you, I’d like to come over and start these sessions.” You took the piece of paper from his hand and nodded. You turned around and left, leaving him there by himself. Or so you thought.

“Muichiro what are you doing talking to that nerd?” He turned to see Genya laughing, Aoi following behind him. “Oh, I was just telling her to leave me alone. You know how those girls are, always asking for my number and shit.” Just then Aoi spoke up. “Then what was on that piece of paper you gave her?” Muichiro laughed. “I just gave her a fake number.” The three of them laughed, except Muichiro’s was fake. He loved his friends, he didn’t want them to know he wasn’t the smartest and that you were his tutor.

“Anyways guys, I should be going.” The laughed died down shortly. “Aw okay. Bye Muichiro!” Aoi said, Genya waving beside her. Muichiro waved and turned around, leaving the two of them alone. “Was he acting weird to you, or was it just me?” Aoi spoke up. “Yeah he definitely did. We need to keep an eye on him.” Genya and Aoi gave each other a sly look and looked back out at Muichiro as he rounded the corner. ————————————————————————

You had changed into a hoodie and some sleep shorts and tied your hair up into a messy pony. You had taken your contacts out and put on your glasses. You had just remembered Muichiro told you he was coming over for a session so you shot him a text.

“Hey”

“Who is this?”

“Y/n, if you want to come over for a session I can send my address.”

“Oh right. Sure.”

“Okay it’s xxxx.”

“Be there in 5”

You left him on read after seeing that message. You grabbed all of your textbooks out and put them in the floor of your bedroom. Your parents wouldn’t be home till late, so you didn’t have to worry about them barging through the door.

Not too long after, you heard a knock at your door. You knew it who it was, so you walked downstairs and opened it. “Hey, come in.” You moved out of the way so Muichiro could come in. You closed the door and locked it back. “Follow me.” He nodded and waited for you to start walking. As he followed you to your room, he couldn’t help but look at you. He thought you looked..cute. Why did he think that? This wasn’t like him. Not at all. You were just a nerd to him, right? So why were you making his heart race and making him so nervous.

In your room, you both instantly started working on some math problems. After around an hour. You tried quizzing him on what you had taught him. When you went over it, you noticed he got one wrong and helped him. “You see, you need to take this and move it up here and then-“ you heard a low growling noise and looked up to see Muichiro was grabbing his stomach. “Are you hungry?” He simply nodded. “Yeah, I forgot to grab something earlier.” You shook your head. “It’s fine, follow me.” You led him to your kitchen and allowed him to pick anything he wanted to eat. Simply enough, he chose some ramen.

“We can take a small break. We’ve been doing it for an hour now.” He agreed. You two sat in the living room watching tv. As he was watching the show, he couldn’t help but steal a few glances at you. The way you sat there crisscrossed on the couch forming a line with your lips when you were confused with a scene, it made him feel weird. “Are you just gonna keep staring at me or what?” He hadn't noticed he was completely staring at you. “Oh sorry. I was just thinking about how comfortable your hoodie is I guess.” You hummed in response. “Are you done eating? If so we need to continue the lesson.” “Yeah I’m done.” He put away his dishes and went back up to your room after you.

After another hour it was getting late. “Well, that should end today’s session. When do you want to do this again?” He looked up in thought, trying to decide which day is best. “How about Thursday?” You nodded. “Works for me. Cmon I’ll walk you out.” The two of you stood up and walked out the door and to your gate. “Bye Y/n.” “Bye Muichiro.” You walked back in and cleaned up the books scattered in your floor. You didn’t know how you kept your composure during those 2 hours. But you did. ————————————————————————

Friday rolled around and Muichiro was with Genya and Aoi. He got his phone out and checked the time, seeing it was already 2:55 and you would be leaving at 3. “Hey guys, I got to go. I’ll see you two Monday.” With that he walked off texting you to find you. “Cmon Genya, we’re going to follow him.” Aoi grabbed Genya’s hand and followed after him.

When they saw him talking to you again with a smile on his face, they knew something was up. “I thought he didn’t like her.” Genya said a little too loud. “Shh!” Aoi clasped her hand over his mouth and pushed him behind a door. “Sorry, sorry.” When she looked again, the two of you were gone.

At your house, you wore some baggy sweats and a cropped tank top. You waited for Muichiro to arrive, preparing the same way you did last time. When you heard the knock at the door, you practically ran downstairs to open it. When you greeted him, he looked you up and down and felt his heart pound. “Hey Y/n.” You smiled at him. “Hi. Come in.” The two of you went to your room, this time you taught him a new lesson in math. The whole time he kept his eyes on you, watching the way your hands moved across the paper and the way your hair lay on your shoulders.

After a few hours, it was time for him to leave. You said your goodbyes and he left. ————————————————————————

It’s been a few months since you started tutoring Muichiro. The two of you began to gain feelings for each other. His friends started to notice how he always looked at you when you passed by. One day however, you were going up to him to ask you to be your date to the dance. Aoi had seen you walking up and decided to wait till you were in earshot to ask her question. “So Muichiro, do you like that little nerd girl you’re always with?” Muichiro almost stumbled over in laughter. “Who Y/n? Hell no, she’s one of the ugliest people I’ve seen. I only talk to her bc she’s helping me out in school.” You heard every word he said. Your emotions getting the better of you. “You really feel that way..?” He looked behind him and saw you crying. “Wait Y/n!” Before you could hear him out you ran off. He turned back to his friends who were laughing. “You two planned this didn’t you? I hate you guys.” He ran after you, leaving his friends stunned.

You went home and hurriedly changed clothes and got into your bed. You cried for around an hour until you heard a knock at the door. Today wasn’t a scheduled day for a session, so you didn’t think it was Muichiro. When you went downstairs and opened the door, you saw him there. You were about to close the door when he held his arm out and stopped it. “Y/n, let me explain.” “No. Leave me alone.” You shut the door successfully and locked it back. Going back up to your room to cry. Muichiro stayed at the door and facepalmed. Why did he say that?

At school he was listening to his friends talk. “Muichiro, you’re going to the dance right?” Aoi said snapping him back into reality. “Huh? Oh, yeah I am.” “Great! We can all go as a group!” He simply nodded. He spaced out again listening to them talk, not caring about what they had to say. ————————————————————————

The dance was today. You decided to go alone. You thought tonight would be a good night to talk to Muichiro about what happened. You were looking for him everywhere when you spotted him with his friends. Aoi gave you a sly smile and looked at Muichiro when she suddenly pulled him into a kiss. Genya looked at you and laughed. You felt tears welt up in your eyes and your heart break. You ran off crying.

Muichiro was listening to Aoi and Genya talk again, he couldn’t stop thinking of you. He didn’t notice when Aoi got quiet and looked at Genya. The only thing he noticed was when she kissed him and heard Genya’s laughter. He pushed her away from him. “What the fuck Aoi?!” She simply laughed along with Genya. He turned around and saw you crying and running away. He tried to go after you but Genya stopped him. Finally he pushed him away and went after you.

After searching for you for a while, he found you by yourself by the rose bushes. He went up to you and stood there beside you. You looked over and saw him and tried to leave, but he stopped you. You started crying again. “Muichiro, why have you been this way-“ Suddenly, he kissed you. You felt your knees get weak and your heart pounded. “What are you doi-“ He cut you off yet again. “Y/n, I don’t like her, I like you. No I love you.” You looked at him stunned. “B-but what about those things you said at school?” He shook his head. “I didn’t mean them. I was embarrassed to admit I liked you.” “I-I like you too Muichiro.” He smiled at you and pulled you into another kiss, this one more passionate than the last. You basically melted into his hold, wishing this would last forever.

“Muichiro what are you doing?” He pulled away to see his “friends” staring at him. “Kissing the person I love.” You looked at them as their jaws dropped. “W-whatever. You won’t be popular anymore you know that?!” He huffed a laugh. “I don’t care. I want her more anyways.” He kissed you again infront of them, smiling into it. They both huffed away as he pulled away. “So will you be my girlfriend?” You giggled. “Oh course!” He hugged you and kissed your head. ————————————————————————

a/n: Ik genya, Aoi, and muichiro aren’t like a trio but I saw a TikTok where they were and it’s been in my head forever 😓

[sunnysidestories]

Introductions Pt 2

Pt 1

Pt 3

Summary: Reader is a vigilante on young justice who goes to the same school as Walls. Only Wally doesn't know the readers identity, but she knows his. SLOW BURN

Wally West x Fem!Reader

"Hi, I'm Wally West. It's nice to meet you."

As his voice rang in my ears, and he seemed to look back at his book, my heart would begin to race. I sat there for a moment too long, so I quickly would pick up my own voice, even if it cracked. "I'm y/n l/n. It's nice to meet you too." He doesn't know. He can't know.

Wally would once again look back up from the textbook, his eyes seeming to scan along my face. "You're not new. I know you." shit. "Well, I just changed classes, not schools. I've been at Keystone my whole life. I'm just not the most popular person."

"Oh cool, I hope you like the advanced course. If you ever need any help I'll gladly give you my number. Science is one of the only things I seem to be good at." he genuinely doesn't know? I'm glad, at least this is my chance. Let's find out who Kid Flash is under all the spandex.

He's a nerd. He's a total nerd.

Often, before class, I would find myself in a conversation about the latest scientific fact, most of them being obscure. He seemed to always speak with his hands, a grin never leaving his face. I found out his uncle is a forensic chemist, which helps explain his passion for all things scientific. Even if he didn't outwardly say it, I could tell he meant a lot to him. But when the class would eventually begin, Wally would totally shut off the conversation, rarely continuing it over a note. He took the class very seriously.

He's not exactly how I would have expected him to be. Compared to how he is as Kid Flash, he's much more sporadic. He seems to always lead a conversation, which I don't always mind, but when he asked me about what I liked one time, he didn't interrupt. He let me rant for a while before I realized what I was doing, though he only encouraged me to go on with a smile.

...

"So that's why I've got to go to Central City for the week." Wally lied about some other excuse for a mission. It felt wrong knowing he's really going to fight crime. I have no room to talk, really. I'll be busy at Keystone myself. I wonder how much of it is actually a lie and how much is really fact.

"It's fine, I understand it's not your fault, but i'll miss you." Wally seemed to avoid eye contact almost if my comment had made him uncomfortable. I was telling the truth though, I would miss him. Even more than I would like to admit. I didn't pressure him about it further as the class went on.

But when it was time for us to take notes from the textbook, and the whole class was sent on their own, Wally would slide me a folded piece of notebook paper. He didn't even look at me, so if any outside eyes had seen the exchange, it would look as if he was returning something of mine. I would quietly open the slip to be greeted by Wally's hastily written writing.

Hey, text me the work I'll miss next week

My eyes scanned the page only to land on his number at the bottom. He could just get it from the teacher, but the fact he trusted me enough with his perfect grade was flattering. Wally's handwriting is another one of those things I didn't think would differ from note to note. Ones he had the time to write at home are always much neater, though his handwriting is much bigger than normal standards would accept, I don't mind. The notes he writes me at school are always messy, almost like he's trying to write faster than he can but doesn't want to use his speed, so in the end, it's just much slopper. If one didn't know Wally, they could rightfully assume the contrast between his writing could be the work of two different people.

Sure, but is it just for the notes right?

I would put in my own words under his before slipping it back to him. He would immediately slide it back into my hands. I didn't even think he wrote anything until I opened it again. This time, his handwriting was perfectly placed, almost as if it was typed.

Yes.

I tuck the paper in my jacket pocket, I'll put it in my drawer with the rest when I get home. I feel bad about throwing them away, so they sit in my bedside table, its not like anyone would ever go into my room and find them anyway. Sometimes, I like to read over them before I go on patrol. It reminds me of our conversation at the warehouse. One where I'm not as alone as I think I am.

Yet the nervous tapping of Wally's pencil brings me back to the class. He taps it ten times before flipping the pencil back over, continuing to write. No matter what, he seemed to always tap it ten times. In a way, it felt like he knew I zoned off. It was him bringing me back to everything. Even if it wasn't intentional. Wally fidgets a lot when he tries to focus or distract himself, the repetitive movements being a form of comfort.

...

It's Tuesday now, and I'm perched on top of a building in full gear. My phone sits in my hand with Wally's contact staring back at me. I need to text him the work from yesterday. I haven't even said hello yet. Hello is too formal, we are friends, a hey would fit better.

These past two days have been abnormally quiet. His empty seat in class is only a reminder of why he's really gone. I hope he's okay.

FLEETFEET

Hey, it's y/n. Here's the work from yesterday and today. Hope everything is okay in CC

2 attachments  sent 11:20 pm

I would sit there for a bit, looking at the screen. Maybe he's already on some sort of mission. Why is texting so stressful? As soon as I started to shut off my phone, it would light back up with his reply.

FLEETFEET

2 attachments seen 11:27 pm

Hey y/n! Central City has

been pretty cool, my Uncle Barry

showed me around his work at Star Labs today. That place is surprisingly

really huge. Thanks for sending

the work.

Seen 11:27 pm

Sooooo wyd?

Seen 11:28 pm

Its almost midnight, he should really go to sleep. I should really start patrol. This really isn't a good idea.

Nothing much hbu? just watching

traffic go by. I swear I've seen three

crashes in the span of two

hours ppl r wild.

Seen 11:31 pm

Dude you should see it here.

Traffic is actually so slow it

makes me want

to scream. We sat at a

red light for 4 whole mins.

Seen 11:31 pm

Oh. My. God. 4 whole mins?!1!

How can they do that to you!

Don't they know who you are!!!

Seen 11:33 pm

The hottest guy alive thats who.

Seen 11:34

I couldn't help but laugh at his statement. Typing back a quick 'pls lol' before turning off my phone. It was getting too late I needed to start. I wish he was here, sometimes I could get a glance of the yellow and red highlight speeding by back home, on this road, about this time. He never worked late at night. That was more left up for the other heros, ones like me. I look to the streets, the dim lights from the lamps only shone back with a faint glow. No streak of color to be seen, but a part of me hoped it would still apear.

My night was full of stopping petty crimes, luckily I didn't have to go against any metahumans, but still like any other night everything would start to hurt after a certain threshold. Inbeetween threats I would find myself checking to see if Wally had kept our conversation going.

He did.

Until 4 am.

He was asking me mostly about myself, which was weird in a way. But in another, it made sense. The questions were more deep then anything since he already had asked the basic getting to know each other questions months ago. In the end, though, he stopped the conversation telling me to head to sleep, as I had school in the morning. Which was true. Even after patrol, I was still texting him from the comfort of my home, but I would eventually listen, heading to get some rest.

The week would continue the same as the night before. I was sending Wally the work and him dragging on our conversation throughout the night, but never long enough for the sun to rise the next day. On Saturday was when one of his messages caught me by surprise.

FLEETFEET

Are you free to call?

Seen 1:12 am

Before I could even protest how that could be a bad idea or how that might reveal who I was, his contact was flashing onto my screen along with his picture. I place the phone to my ear and answer it. I hoped the interstate couldn't be audible up from here.

"I told you shes not going to- hey! Hey..."

Wally's voice picks up on the other line, he seems to be in some sort of living room, as the hum of a television can be heard in the background as well as someone else having a conversation.

"Hey Walls? What's up?" My voice sounded strained from not speaking for hours, I hoped Wally couldn't tell. "Oh, um, I was just wondering about some of the work you sent me. Like you took the photos of the work perfectly okay, but in the background, I saw something." At the word something, his voice would slightly jump.

Did I leave my equipment in a photo? was my reflection shown? Was it something he wasn't supposed to see?

"Yeah It's-It's going to sound really stupid. What... what were those papers spread out on your bed?" Oh. Ohhhhh no. The notes, I left out his notes on my bed. I must have got some of them into the frame. I quickly opened out a chat to the last photo. There they were. Luckily, they were not in focus, so he couldn't really tell what they said, but still. There they were.

His voice would start up again after my second of silence. "Are they really swamping you with that much work?" "Yeah, yeah. My other class, a big final its uh its is coming up, so I was studying the notes." I let out a sigh of relief. "But that's not your handwriting? It actually kind of looks like-"

"Wally, I have to go. I'll see you Monday at school."

*BEEP BEEP BEEP*

That was terrible. He would never let me live that down if I told him I was keeping such things. That even more was embarrassing, I have to explain why I had to go. And I have until Monday for these excuses. Which is technically tomorrow. Fun.

...

I was saved. I got called into a mission before school at Mt. Justice. Even though Wally would be there, y/n technically wouldn't. When I arrived, he was already in costume talking to Megan about something. He still did the thing with his hands while he spoke. Making his statements larger than life and thoroughly exaggerated. "I just don't know what to do. I trust her more than anything, I wish she would just tell me. It's not like im going to judge her. She knows that. I mean, you heard the conversation. "

His back was turned to me, so I couldn't see his face while he went on. Although I knew what he was talking about. "Hey Megan. Hey Wally." I waved at the two while I walked past them to the kitchen. "H/n! You're a girl. I need advice. What do I do when my friend is keeping stuff from me." I would stop and slowly turn around to his pleading gaze. "Walls, aren't you keeping stuff from her? You have to trust her in that sort of regard. Give her time to open up."

"Thats...Fair." Wally would drop himself back to normal as my words got through to him. "Besides, it took me a while to realize I trusted you." Both in and out of costume. I do. I trust him more than anything. More than anyone.

So I should have told him. He said he wasn't going to judge me, and I know he wouldn't have. I let my emotions get the better of me at the moment, If he asks again, I'll tell him the truth. No matter what.

...

The mission went by with a breeze, the biggest threat being now as Robin sent Wally falling towards me at full speed. I ended up catching the both of us before he could send us tumbling over a building. I held us there for a while, my arms wrapped around him in a hug. He just looked at me. His heightened breathing trailed my neck as he grasped onto my arms. He didn't admit it, but he was scared, I was too. Fifteen stories were a lot to fall from.

The other heroes, as well as criminals, paid us no attention, too occupied in their own fights, as I held Wally at the edge of the roof. One of my feet hanging halfway off. I was closer to falling than he was. My back was to the city.

"Hey, h/n." Was all he said as his face began to knowticablely regain too much color. "Hey West." Wally would move his head to rest in the crook of my neck as he tried to calm his rapid breathing. He told me late at night over text one time he was scared of heights.

As I started to try to move us back away from the edge, Wally would only plant himself in my hold even more. I needed to help him snap back into the situation. Before he messed up and tipped us over.

"Wally. You've never asked me who I am before." Trust. He needs to trust me. "Be...Bec..Cause! You're not comfortable... ye-yet."  Inbeetween words, he would let out large audible gasping. "You won't judge me, right?" He shook his head side to side, keeping his eyes remained shut. I would let out a sigh of my own.

"I trust you. Kid Flash, I need you to trust me. Not only as h/n but as y/n. y/n l/n. The one who's going to get you off this roof. Back to the ground floor."

[dexlexia]

studies in relaxation - bokuto x reader

pairing: kōtarō bokuto x reader rating: 18+ summary: It was finals, oh how you hated finals. But that wasn't something was concerned your boyfriend. He made it through university on an athletic scholarship. While he was amazing at volleyball, he only marginally passed his courses. But unlike him, you had to make sure your grades were up to par. You couldn't slip in your marks. tags: college au, pwp, smut, couch sex, gentle sex, massages, praise kink, fingering, oral sex (f receiving)

It was finals, oh how you hated finals. But that wasn't something that concerned your boyfriend. He made it through university on an athlete scholarship. While he was amazing at volleyball, he only marginally passed his courses. But unlike him, you had to make sure your grades were up to par. You couldn't slip in your marks. 

And he worried so much about you.

He hated seeing you so stressed.

You both lived in an apartment just off campus, and while it was rather nice and domestic. It was hard when you had to study. Your hyper-active boyfriend was more engaged with the idea of doing anything else with you BUT studying. But you needed to cram every last piece of information from your textbook.

You couldn't afford to fail the final exam of the semester. You were a top student, but being at the top meant the weight of expectations fell on your shoulders. You couldn't be an ace player like your boyfriend. 

Currently you are hunched over the desk in the living room, with all the lights off except the lamp over your desk. With one pen in your mouth and another tapping at the open notebook. You felt like you were losing your mind. 

This all made sense about an hour ago, but now it felt like nails on a chalkboard inside of your brain. When you started to doubt yourself you felt your heart start to race. But you had no time to have a panic attack, you needed to absorb everything in this textbook ASAP. 

You took the pen out of your mouth and exhaled. This was all getting to be too much. You dropped the pen in your hand and buried the heels of your hands in your eyes to rub the sleepiness out of them. “Goddamnit.” You muttered under your breath. 

“Is everything okay, babe?" You heard from the couch nearby. There sat Bokuto with his laptop propped up and his earphones in. He hated being apart from you, so while you were swamped with studying for finals he was as close as he could be. He wanted to make sure he was there if you needed anything.

You exhaled, ”Everything's fine, Ko. I'll be okay. It's just a lot.“ You watched him take the other earphone out and put his laptop to the side. He got up from the couch and walked towards you. He always looked like a lost puppy when he didn't know how to help you, but not everything could be solved with Bokuto's classic smile. 

  ”Do you want a back rub?” He asked as he held up his hands and made a grabbing motion with his fingers as to indicate that he was willing to massage you. 

You sighed once more, “Just be gentle.” And pulled the chair away from the desk. You rolled your shoulders and straightened out your back which caused some cracking of your spine. 

  “Akaashi told me that they help more if you're away from where you are working.“ He reached to pull the chair out further. You had no choice, you got up and followed him to the couch. 

You flopped down on top of it and rolled your neck from side to side. Bokuto sat beside you and manoeuvred you with his back to him. ”Relax.“ He prompted, ”Please.“ Then leaned in and kissed you on the cheek from behind. Then with those large hands he started to massage your back.

The first bit of pressure made you tense up, but the careful movements at the base of your neck made you relax. But the sound of your neck being massaged was far from appealing with all the cracks. You really did need something like this. He went in for another kiss and gave you gentle praise. 

  ”You're my smart girl.“ He assured you, ”But you work too hard, I don't want you to hurt yourself.“ You could hear the frown in his voice even if you couldn't see it.

  “I'm fine, Ko. It's just the end of the semester, it'll be over before you know it and we can enjoy our break.” You reassured him. You felt his kisses against your neck. You knew he worried. He didn't worry about much, but he did worry about you. 

He continued to work at the muscles of your back. The occasion crack or pop of your back as he tried to smooth out the tension. It only increased his worry with how tense you were. He soon applied more pressure and you kicked out your legs from it. You tilted your head to the side and moaned as he pressed his palms into your skin.

  “Do you like that?” He asked.

  “I love it, honey.” You responded, “I haven't had a massage in so long. I forgot how sensitive I was.” You exhaled deeply as you felt another sensation through your body as he touched you. It wasn't painful but it also wasn't a nonexistent feeling. There was pressure to it that made you grip onto your knees to keep yourself steady. 

  “Good, good. I want my honey to feel good.” He started to kiss at your neck, “Akaashi told me that the more relaxed you are, the better you learn. So I need you to relax.” His warm breath was against your neck as he massaged your lower back which made you let out a small squeak. He chuckled and continued to rub you down. 

He was just perfect, there was no one like Bokuto. He was just perfect. He kissed your neck some more, and his hands went to your front. He smiled against your skin and started to grab at your breasts. You moaned and it encouraged him to keep going. To keep touching you while he attempted to make you comfortable.

  "Do you like that?“ He asked, his lips were close to your ear, ”Does my lovely, amazing girl like that? Because I want you to feel good.“ He chuckled softly. 

You tilted your head to the side away from him and shakily exhaled, ”It feels amazing. I guess.” You trailed off, “I could take a break.” 

  “Yeah?” He perked up, “You want a break with me?”

You giggled and turned on the couch. You faced him and reached to stroke his face, “After all, you know how to make me the most relaxed.” You leaned in close to him.  “I only ever feel safe around you.”

He chuckled and kissed you. He laid you out on the couch under him, his broad body covered yours as he cupped your face. Those gold eyes gazed down at you and you smiled up at him. He felt so close, you felt so loved. And maybe the feeling of stress was starting to leave your body. He pulled you in for one last kiss as his hand started to trail down into your shorts.

The waistband was stretchy which allowed his hand to slip in perfectly. He groaned into the kiss as he reached the band of your underwear. He smiled into the kiss as he felt around. Soon his longer fingers reached past the waist of your underwear and towards your pussy. 

 “Ko.” You said.

 “I got you, honey.” He replied as he pulled you in for another searing kiss as he started to play with your clit. His pointer finger rubbed up against your sensitive spot as he passionately made out with you. The feeling made your toes curl in your socks, you felt the urge to kick out your legs from the pleasure but managed to restrain yourself. 

  “Ko. Please.“ You moaned before you went in for another kiss.Your heart pounded in your chest as you held onto his arms for support. He was so strong compared to you, you could feel the strength of his muscles in his arms.

  ”Don't worry.“He reassured, ”I'll make you nice and relaxed honey!“ Then continue to play with your clit. The feeling made your back arch as you moaned loudly. He smiled down at you like a ray of sunshine and went in for another searing kiss. He was  just a perfect boyfriend.

You loved him with all your heart, he was just so perfect that there was little to put into words just HOW perfect he was. He wanted his number one girl to get her finals done and he'd make sure that through any means that you were the most comfortable and safe with him. 

He'd make sure that you were taken care of, and he adored you for that. He just thought you were perfect and there was no replacing you. He pulled away once more and gazed at your face, every expression you made as he dipped two fingers inside of you. His movements were rapid as you moaned loudly. 

  ”That's it, honey.” He moaned against your skin. His cock throbbed in his pants but that was a problem for another time. He closed the gap between you even further, and pushed his fingers even deeper into you. He felt your hot breath on his cheek as he played with your pussy.

Your heart raced in your chest and you felt warm all over. But you also felt the stress melt off of your body and pleasure tae over. Especially since his skilled fingers were stroking your sex. You held onto him as  he pleasured you. 

But soon that wasn't enough. He pulled away and got down to his knees in front of the couch with a 'thud' and started to pull down your shorts to reveal your pussy. He licked his lips as he got your legs spread and more of your sweet sex exposed.

  “Such a good girl.” He praised you. Those gold eyes gazed at you with such love, and hope. He adored you so much, he thought you were just a beautiful creature, “You're going to do so well on your exams.“

  ”Promise?“

  ”Promise.“ 

He gazed up at you and gave you one last grin before he held your legs open and started to pleasure you orally. He thought you were just divine, a holy object of worship. To do anything in his power to help you be the best you could be. I loved you so much. 

His licks were quick across your clit. You curled your toes and held onto his silver hair as he pleasured you. He held your legs open so you didn't crush his head with your thighs!

He kissed your pussy and left wet licks across your clit. You felt the pressure build up in your stomach as you clutched onto him. The feeling was immense, you knew that Bokuto had a skilled tongue but everytime it took you off guard. 

  ”You're amazing.“ He said, ”So perfect.''He groaned into your skin before he went back to lapping at your sweet sex. He was enthralled by you, he thought you were just so perfect. He couldn't get enough of you. But he knew you were getting close so he took one hand and began to tease you while he lapped at your clit. 

You almost kicked out your legs once more as you clutched onto him. You moaned out loud and leaned your head back as you felt the surge of pleasure. Your toes curled once more and you gripped onto him further.

He lapped at your pussy lovingly, he felt a swell in his chest. He loved your sweet noises, he loved how you sounded when he pleasured you. It was a remarkable feeling that he couldn't deny. 

It wasn't long before you felt the mountainous feeling of pleasure run through your body. You felt onto him tightly, the feeling of soft silver hair past your fingertips. You moaned and panted, and as you climaxed you kicked out your legs in pleasure.

 ”Ko!“ You moaned out loud as you finished on his tongue. And every anxiety was out of your body and you were relaxed against the couch with your chest heaving. You let go of him and relaxed. Your mind felt fuzzy but in the best way possible.

He got up and leaned in to kiss you on the cheek. You felt your heart flutter. 

He beamed at you and reached out for you, “Now why don't we go for another round in the bedroom. I know another way for you to relax.” And winked at you. You smiled up at him and followed close behind him as you tried to pull up your pants. 

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Grey Zone 4

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon, manipulation, age gap, bullying, toxic parental figures, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your relationship with your parents has never been good, and that with a family friend takes a strange turn(goth!reader)

Character: Lloyd Hansen

Note: We're back

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Your bedroom door swings open, the handle knocking against the short shelf of figures behind it. You clutch the black skirt in your hands and face your mother as she gives you that look. The one dripping in disappointment and loathing. She’s hungover, you can tell by how she squints.

“Are you not ready yet?” She sneers, a Louis bag dangling from her elbow.

“Almost,” you assure her, rolling your tongue nervously, “mom, are you sure I should come? Work isn’t very happy about the time off and–”

“How dare you,” she accuses, flinching at the spark of her own temper, bringing her manicure to her temple, “Lloyd has been very nice in inviting us all to the lake house and I will not have you spoil it with your attitude.”

“I wasn’t trying to… I just thought…”

“Stop thinking,” she points at you with a long shellacked nail, “you’ll ruin everything.”

You snap your mouth shut. For her, this is another vacation. You know her plans don’t extend past wine and naps in the sun. And it is supposed to be a ‘family trip’. If you don’t go, your father might just tell her to stay behind too. It’s not that she wants you to go, but she wants to be sure she gets to go.

“I’ll be ready in like ten,” you spin back to your bed and tuck the skirt into your duffle.

“Make it five,” she huffs with the click of her tongue.

She prances off and you shake your head at the stacks of clothes in front of you. You cut it down as you roll up each piece to fit into your bag. You don’t need much. You shove your chest of makeup at the end and tuck your toiletry pouch inside.

You grab your leather knapsack and slide your laptop inside with your textbooks. You wonder if you’ll even have a signal all the way up north. If not, you’ll have a lot of catching up to do. Oh well, maybe it will be nice to get away. Or maybe you’ll be in hell, trapped in an isolated cabin with your own parents.

And him.

You shove a few novels in along with your computer and zip it up. You drag your stuff towards the door and grab your jacket from the clothes rack against the far wall. The long black trench goes well over your wide-leg curtain paints and razor back halter. You pop on a wide brimmed black hat and your favourite pair of sunglasses; black lenses framed with silver.

You grab your bags and haul them out of your room, making the slow and perilous descent to the first floor. You leave your bags right behind your mother’s pile of matching Louis luggage and wiggle your feet into your clunky Mary Janes. 

Your mother emerges with a sunhat and a pair of large square framed sunglasses. She winks at you as she tucks a flask into her purse. You say nothing and cross your legs, perching on the bench impatiently.

“Is that what you’re wearing?” She harrumphs.

“Yeah?” You look down.

“You don’t have anything… lighter? It’s sunny out.”

You shrug, “we’ll just be in the car.”

You stare at her bags. How much does she need to bring? The physics of packing all of it into the SUV worries you. You fully expect to be crammed in next to her bandouliere bag.

“Constance!” Your father’s voice booms as his steps pound onto the porch. You look at the screen door as he rips it open, “well,” he stops short inside, “I told you to start bringing your shit out.”

“I told you, my shoulder,” your mother pouts, “yell at your daughter, she’s the one sitting around.”

Your father huffs and grabs her largest bag, pointing at you then the rest of her things, “well, let’s get this going. I don’t wanna be driving past midnight.”

You get up and grab two of the lighter bags. You roll your eyes behind your lenses, knowing you won’t be caught. You follow your father out the front door, the weight of your mother’s excess chafing your fingers. What did she pack?

The hatch door of the SUV is already open. Your father’s things are neatly placed against the wall of the trunk. He hikes up your mother’s suitcase in the other side and it takes up much of the remaining space. You place the two in hand on top and ponder the last three. It’s like a very unfortunate game of Tetris.

“Go,” your father snaps his fingers, “get the rest.”

You don’t argue. As you come up on the porch, your mother emerges with a bright pink travel tumbler in hand, slurping on the straw as your left to wonder at the contents. You dip inside and retrieve her smallest bags; a perfect circular valise and two more oblong ones.

You hand them off to your father and he grumbles under his breath as he tries to fit them into the hatch. You return to the house to get your own bags. You won’t mind sitting with your own things. 

The backseat offers little hope as you find a large cooler taking up more than half of its length and fishing rods across the floor. So, where exactly are you supposed to sit?

As you stare, perplexed by the puzzle of your own belonging, a horn toots and a car rolls up the driveway, coming just short of your father as he turns to stare down the Bentley. You keep your knapsack on your shoulder and your bag clutched tight.

You face Mr. Hansen as he climbs out of his car, leaning on the door as he looks over it at your dad, “Ray Ray, ready to go?”

“Just loading up,” your father answers.

“Holy shit,” Mr. Hansen snorts, “you know you’re not moving in for good, right?”

“Connie’s shit,” your father snarls.

Hansen shuts his car door as he strides up the tarmac. His focus shifts as he sees you standing listless. He flicks his sunglasses up and gives a crooked smirk.

“Hey, sunshine,” he greets, “uh, Ray,” he stops, just a few inches from you, pivoting towards the back of the SUV, “where exactly is the baby girl supposed to fit? You strapping her to the roof?”

“She’ll squeeze in,” you father dimisses.

“For eight hours?” Hansen’s fingers tickle along the back of your arm and he squeezes just above his elbow, “I got lots of room.”

“I don’t care. Take her, then,” your father barks, “I got Lonny bringing up supplies, I don’t needa worry about all that.”

“Hear that, starbright, go toss your things in mine,” Hansen twirls his keyring and holds it out to you, “lots of legroom.”

“Um, it’s fine–”

“Don’t argue,” your father slams the hatch door. “He’s right, we don’t got the space.”

You could suggest your mother leaves a few things behind but you know that will only end the same. You take Hansen’s keys and thank him. He grins and steps back, not much, just enough for you to pass, just close enough for you to brush against him.

You go down the drive, surprised to find yourself trailed by another set of steps. You glance over your shoulder as Hansen circles around you, “bottom button, sunny.”

You hit the fob and the trunk pops open. He seizes your bag before you can react and puts it in next to his. You slip your knapsack down your arm and he just as quickly has it in hand.

“Couldn’t imagine eight hours in a car with those two,” he says quietly, “you’re welcome.”

“Uh, yeah, thanks.” 

You cross your arms and step back as he closes the trunk. He keeps his hand on the sleek pant and eyes you up and down. He tilts his head and his tongue pokes out.

“You feel like driving,” he asks, “I don’t mind.” He pats the butt of the car, “she handles well.”

“Um, it’s okay…”

“Come on, you get the first hour and we can switch at the rest stop,” he goads, “I woke up fuckshit early.”

“Alright, I guess,” you keep the keys in your hand and go to step around him.

“Wait, wait,” he blocks your path, “one more thing.”

“Alright?” You frown.

“I didn’t say…” he reaches to tap the brim of your hat, “you look fucking good.”

You don’t know how to respond. You’re unused to compliments and a simple thank you would do but something about his tone has you tongue-tied. You wipe away your chagrin and try to smile. Your lips just quiver and fall straight.

“Right, let’s stop dragging ass,” he spins and struts up the driveway, “Ray,” he calls to your dad, “here’s the spare key. In case you get ahead of us.”

You chew your lip and slowly walk along the side of the car. You unlock the doors and open the driver’s side. You reticently get in and take off your hat, twisting to throw it in the backseat. You turn straight and adjust the seat and steering wheel. It’s a really nice car.

The passenger door opens and Lloyd drops in, sliding the seat all the way back as he stretches his legs. You leave the keys in the cupholder and push the ignition. The engine rolls as you take in the breadth of controls. Nothing too unusual.

“What’s that shade of lipstick called?” Lloyd leans on the armrest of his seat, “how many shades of black can they sell?”

“Um, I don’t know,” you fix the mirror.

“Like those glasses. Where’d you get them?”

“Amazon,” you answer as you shift into reverse, the camera showing on the console screen. You grip the wheel and slowly back out.

“Now, don’t be afraid to put that foot down once we hit the highway,” he says, “she’s got a lot of power. She can handle it.”

“Mhmm,” you stop at the end of the driveway and look both ways down the street. “Got it.”

🖤

As promised, you trade places with Lloyd after the first hour. He’s a bit more heavy-footed and you find yourself with your hand on the door as you brace yourself with his careless and aggressive passing. You’re a cautious driver and his style has you almost dizzy. You’re not bold enough to tell him to slow down.

“Isn’t this nice?” He asks, “no squabbling middle-aged assholes to listen to.”

“Sure,” you grasp the seat belt as you keep a wary gaze through the windshield.

“Hopefully it’s only more of this, baby,” he continues, “my house, my rules. You don’t worry about mommy and daddy.”

You nod and hold back a squeak as he swoops in front of another car. You wish you had kept driving. You hate this.

“I’ll be working on my tan as daddy does all the hard work,” he scoffs, “been a long year.”

You listen, almost curious as he’s rarely anything close to transparent. You would never imagine him having a bad day. He seems to carry it with that no fucks given strut. He swerves again and you can’t help but elicit a rather pathetic noise.

“Mr. Hansen, can you… slow down a little?” You ask.

He doesn’t answer right away but he does as you request. “I get it, you wanna enjoy our time together,” he snickers.

“Uh, well, I get a bit carsick,” you utter.

“Ah,” he accepts with an air of disappointment, “can I ask you something?”

“Okay.”

“Can you call me Lloyd? This Mr. Hansen business makes me feel old as shit. I’m not, you know, I got all my faculties,” he lets out a small chuckle, “just so you know.”

“Right, Lloyd, sorry,” you say, “dad just… you’re his friend so he–”

“Yeah, real tight ass but damn good at what he does. The biggest fuckers always are,” he scoffs.

“I guess…”

“So, those girls, they bug you again?” He keeps the same pace in conversation as he does driving. You’re disoriented by the flip.

“Haven’t seen them, no…”

“You know, they’re just jealous,” he says, “I know girls like that. I’ve f– met a lot. They’re not worth it.” He shakes his head and laughs, “hate to say it, but your mom is one of those. Never a nice thing to say about anyone but herself.”

You lean into the seat and bend your arms in front of your stomach. You know that. Deep down, you know your family is imperfect, you just didn’t realise how obvious it is.

“You’re young. Shit’s tough when you’re figuring it out.”

“Yeah,” you murmur.

“You got Spotify or something?” He asks abruptly, once more jarring you. “Got bluetooth in here. May as well put something on, we got time.”

“Right, uh, I could…” you dig your phone out as he pushes buttons on the steering wheel with his thumb. The screen flashes with the pairing symbol.

You find the right connection and scroll through your playlists. You don’t know if he’ll like any of those. Maybe you could find something generic.

“What do you like?” You ask.

He answers with a chortle, “nah, you put something on. I wanna hear your music.”

“Well, it’s a bit… of an acquired taste.”

“My car, my rules, put your music on,” he demands.

You resign and tap shuffle on your weekly mix. Joy Division drones from the random selection and you black out the screen. You’re comforted by the familiar tones.

“Holy fuck,” Lloyd says, “this is old shit. Before my time, even.”

“Uh, yeah,” you reply, “it’s just a shuffle–”

“Not complaining,” he smirks, “glad I actually know this one.”

You exhale and try to relax. It’s going to be a long ride and you're thankful he opened that door. You don’t know how much longer you could handle his chaotic conversation. Only six hours or so, you can make it if you have music.

[roseharpermaxwell]

RWRB FirstPrince Coffee Shop AU Recs

Coffee shops, restaurants, bars, delis, cheese shops - you'll find those recs here. Give the author some love if you find something you like!

5:25am, coffee shop by cricketnationrise. T, 800 words. A quiet, but emphatic “fuck me” catches Henry’s attention, but it’s the thump, slide, and contact of a heavy book with his foot that pulls him completely out of his novel. He glances down to see some sort of textbook and stoops to pick it up, fingers brushing with a strange spark as someone else reaches for it at the same time. Henry glances up to find the single most attractive man he’s ever seen.

talk by @smc-27, @dumbpeachjuice. E, 1.1k. Henry records himself for an audio erotica app.

Alex finds it. And listens.

All the Lonely Starbucks Lovers by @kiwiana-writes. E, 1.5k.

“That floor doesn’t look like it’s very comfortable on your knees, is all.” Henry leans forward, scooping out a piece of brownie that got under the counter, somehow. “I wouldn’t worry about that—my knees are quite used to it, I assure you.” A ringing silence follows this pronouncement, during which Henry focuses very hard on opening a trap door directly into hell with the power of his mind.

Or, five times Henry puts his foot in his mouth in front of his customer crush, and one time he puts his dick in his customer crush's mouth instead doesn't.

The wind in our free-flowing sails (and the liquor in our cocktails) by @kiwiana-writes. E, 1.8k. Henry is a speakeasy bartender, and Alex is the surface for body shots. Then they fuck about it. That's the fic.

black coffee and cinnamon rolls by viciouslyqueer. T, 2.1k. Alex walks into the coffee shop asking for a coffee and cinnamon roll. Henry tells him they don't have cinnamon rolls.

That doesn't stop Alex from coming back, though.

Make it Good by @smc-27. T, 3.7k. TurkeyOnRye is so hot Alex almost dies every time the guy walks in. Same thing every Tuesday. Turkey on rye, bag of chips, and a sparkling water.

“The usual?” Alex asks. TurkeyOnRye smiles at him, nods. “How’s your Tuesday?”

He gets the bread, he reaches for the knife, he tries not to cut his fucking hand off watching TurkeyOnRye push his hair back.

you're all that i need by @rmd-writes. M, 3.9k. “Alex.” Henry leans against the wall behind the counter with his arms folded, wearing a pale blue cable knit sweater with the sleeves pushed up and navy chinos. Alex wishes he wouldn’t because it only emphasises his forearms.

He crosses his own arms in response. “Henry.”

“Are you actually looking for a book?” Henry asks with a sigh. “Or are you just wasting my staff’s time?”

“That staff member is my sister.”

“I’m well aware,” Henry says drily. “Doesn’t change the fact that you’re probably wasting her time. Which book are you looking for?”

“Oh.” Alex grimaces slightly. “I’m not actually–” He exhales. “Hunter is in the coffee shop, so I got the fuck out.” 

ask a guy his name first by @coffeecatsme. T, 5.2k. British accent. Blue eyes. Alex doesn’t know how he’s supposed to handle any of that without an ounce of caffeine in his blood.

He gulps. “Name?”

“Henry.”

Alex’s shaky hands make the name look like Hanri, with a heart instead of a dot for the i. He drops a bag of Earl Grey in the cup, filling it halfway with coffee before he realizes his mistake.

The second cup, the name Hanriey scribbled on the side, makes its way to the counter.

Or, 10 times Alex "misspells" Henry's name and 2 times Henry does it. 

Stop, caffeinate, and listen by @clottedcreamfudge. M, 5.3k. The second Alex walked into Henry's coffee shop wearing a shirt that said 'fuck the patriarchy' - which is, he presumes, someone else's, due to the fact that it's a little small on him - he resigned himself to falling completely and hopelessly in love. Alex - jewel-bright and caustic, cinnamon coffee and curls that Henry wants to tangle his fingers in - is quite clearly straight, and Henry's foolish heart doesn't seem to care much for the limitations this puts on their interactions. He's lost, irrevocably, and Alex hasn't the faintest clue.

I Hear It (When I Look at You) by @affectionatelyrs. M, 5.6k. “Anyway,” the man—Alex, a glance at his nametag suggests—continues. “What can I do you for?”

Absolutely anything, Henry thinks. Preferably that thing you mentioned you’ve been practicing with your tongue to start.

Instead, Henry says, “I’d like…the tea,” which isn’t actually much better.

Alex smiles, a patient curve to his lips. Henry shouldn’t have allowed it to dismantle him one bit, given that the next thing he says is, “Do you want it hot?”

So hot, sweetheart. I bet you like it like that, want my breath right up against your—

“Do I want it— What?”

Or, The last thing Henry expects while ordering tea is to come face to face with the man whose dirty voicemail has fueled his fantasies for weeks

Will You Brie Mine? by @cha-melodius. T, 5.7k. Today, as Henry tells him all about the Manchego, Alex tries his best to listen and not fixate on the mole next to the corner of Henry’s mouth or the way his shoulders strain the seams of his white uniform shirt. It’s not a particularly easy task for him, in all honesty.

“Would you care for a sample?” Henry asks, as if Alex has ever said no to him.

“I’d love one,” Alex tells him instead of saying I’d like to sample you.

(Or, Henry sells cheese and Alex is somehow his best customer. It's not really about the cheese.)

One Order of Alex, Please by gaytriforce. T, 6k. Alex is just trying to reach his dreams of being a politician by putting himself through school on a lacrosse scholarship and the lackluster pay from his shitty barista job- but the job does have one upside: his favorite regular, a shy, beautiful, British stranger named Henry.

Bea's Bakes by ronans. NR, 7.2k. Well, here goes nothing, he thinks to himself. It’s the first time he’s had Alex alone in a while so now’s his chance. And if it all goes tits up he could maybe move to Paris and begin a career as a reclusive novelist like he’d always dreamed.

‘I hope I’m not reading this wrong, Alex, but would I be able to get your number?’

He can literally hear Alex’s breath catch as he stares at Henry like a deer in headlights. Scratch moving away forever, Henry may just cringe himself to death.

‘Was I that obvious?’

Or, Henry works in his sister's London bakery when the arrival of the Claremont-Diaz-Hollerans shakes things up in a way he wasn't expecting.

something good can work by arcticmaggie. T, 7.4k. Henry absolutely loves people watching. To catch others as they’re completely immersed in their own lives and their inner workings of relationships and struggles and accomplishments.

And today.

Henry feels a cramp settle into his hand as he’s already finishing his second page in 15 minutes after lifting his head and immediately settling his eyes upon the most beautiful man he’s ever seen.

or

Writer!Henry spends his afternoons people watching in a cafe to find inspiration for his writing.

Trials and Tribulations by @hillerskas. NR, 8.9k. ‘Shit.’ Alex looks up. There’s an unbelievably attractive man dripping rain all over the floor and holding a steaming mug of something right next to his table. Alex deduces that he’d come here to hide from the rain, bought himself a drink and only then realised that there were no empty tables to sit at. Cue Alex’s saviour complex.

Or, 5 times Alex’s favourite fic author’s notes don’t make sense and 1 time they absolutely do.

Have One (On Me) by @myheartalivewrites. E, 10k. "Henry moves on to help other patrons, and Alex tries not to stare. He’s beautiful, and graceful as he reaches around for glasses and bottles, and then he picks up a cocktail shaker and Alex has to look away as he sets his biceps to work again, shaking it. It’s distracting."

Alex goes to Shaan’s bar regularly. It’s almost a second home to him. But one day, there’s a new bartender working the bar. He’s hot and Alex is into it except… the guy’s wearing a wedding ring.

i know a place by @indomitable-love. M, 10k. The low light of the bar makes it easy to relax. There's a soft hum of chatter and a steady beat to the music that isn't overwhelming. It's easy; smooth dark wood and strings of multi-coloured lights with posters of pieces of history on the walls – pictures from Stonewall, Harvey Milk sitting on the top of a car riding through San Francisco; a poster of Bowie sits one wall next to Freddie Mercury against exposed brick. It’s comforting, safe. 

He doesn't even realise that the brightly dressed bartender has disappeared and been replaced by someone else until he looks back again to see a small woman with black hair in a plaid shirt. Behind her, the blonde guy, who is no longer looking down at his notebook, but looking right across the bar, at Alex.

wherein Alex is early to meet Nora at a bar that he does not realise is a gay bar and he starts to realise some things.

like snow on the beach (you want me) by coffeecatsme. T, 11k. That’s the thing about The Magical Brew. It only appears to those in need, to those who lift their heads from their work, to those who need just a little bit of magic to turn their lives around. The gate is rusty, the lawn overgrown from disuse, but to the one in need, it looks, perhaps, like the most magical place in the world. Alex wouldn’t exchange that for foot traffic and a few more coins in his pocket.

It’s the promise of helping out those in need that keeps The Magical Brew alive. Yet Alex still couldn’t have predicted just how much his life would change simply from a dimpled smile and blue eyes that brighten only in his presence.

Or, 5 times Alex offers a little magical help to Henry, and 1 time he doesn't have to.

and we danced by rizcriz. T, 15k. And we danced

Out there on that empty hardwood floor

The chairs up and the lights turned way down low

The music played, we held each other close

And we danced

or, Alex and Henry meet in a bar.

Take Your Time by @hgejfmw-hgejhsf. E, 15k. “I have an idea,” Nora pipes up, the siblings turning their collective attention on her as a shower of rainbow glitter drifts to the ground at her feet. “How about you find someone to spend the evening with? Just pick someone who draws you in, whether it’s vibes or looks or whatever, and ask them to be your date tonight.”

“I don’t need a date,” Alex retorts.

“No, but you want one, don’t you? You’re always complaining about being our third wheel. So go find a fourth and make it a whole car,” Nora teases, squeezing Alex’s cheek. He swats her hand away and throws up his middle finger. “I’m not asking you to pick out wedding rings. Just find a hot stranger in a mask to grind on for the night.” OR

Law student Alex Claremont-Diaz is dragged to a local up and coming gay bar to celebrate the New Year with his sister and best friend, where he meets the standoffish owner Henry Fox and asks him to spend a no strings attached evening with him.

Catalyst of Change by @uglygreenjacket. E, 17k. Alexander Gabriel Claremont-Diaz is American through and through, so how he found himself going to graduate school in Scotland and working in a coffee shop is still a little beyond his understanding.

And Prince Henry? Well, that's another thing entirely.

When Alex is outed in his last year of college, he packs up his life and tries his best to leave the trauma behind. It's all going fine until he collides, quite literally, with a future he never imagined.

Call Me By My Name by clottedcreamfudge. E, 24k. The fucked up thing is that this isn’t the kind of world where you can ‘not believe’ in soulmates; they’re a scientific fact. There have been studies, there’s a science dedicated to it - Alignment Science, which is just about the biggest heap of bullshit Alex has ever heard - and it is literally just how the world works.

Nobody has been able to adequately explain to him, however, how you end up with your soulmate’s name in your subconscious when you’re born, or why this is the way you have to get it out.

Alex doesn't believe in soulmates, and Henry doesn't believe in the likelihood of finding his. Enter: coffee shops. 

Bite Your Tongue on Purpose by Woodsarelovely. M, 32k. “Hey, man. Can I get a black coffee to go?”

“Er…” he says – a faintly bewildered expression on his face. “Yes, I imagine so.”

Turns out the guy is also British, which is like, whatever. Alex gives him one of his best smiles. “Great, thanks.”

Hot Barista glances vaguely around himself, then back to Alex. He looks simultaneously surprised and uncertain, like some kind of aggressively handsome time-traveller who’s been unexpectedly yeeted into a different century. After a beat, he says – “From me?”

“Uh yeah. You’re working here, right?”

“Well... yes?”

Alex tries very hard not to sigh.

Great. Looks like he’s dealing with one of those people who are so attractive, they’ve never had the need to develop any kind of personality beyond that of a Tupperware container of room-temperature potato salad.

Alex absolutely does not have time for whatever this shit is.

Five times Henry serves Alex coffee and one time Alex serves Henry.

Strap in, folks. It's a coffee shop AU ...Kind of. 

Notes in Orion by crownedpagesoflove. T, 34k. Alex goes to London to escape his own problems and falls in love with a handsome man with sad blue eyes.

coffee shop boyfriends series by @strwbrryfox. M, 35k. in which alex just really wants to be friends with his new co-worker, henry, who seemingly can’t stand him. things aren’t looking good for him after a couple of attempts to rectify the situation lead to him making a complete fool out of himself and, by extension, henry. but it’s fine because alex plans on turning all of it around when he pulls henry’s name for their staff secret santa. or the obliviouspining!alex x coffee shop x christmas x secret santa au that no one asked for.

I Get Drunk on Jealousy by aforgottennymph. E, 43k.

Something is crackling in the air, and as oblivious as Henry can be, there’s no mistaking the closeness of Alex to him, the dark look in his eyes that are piercing through his very being. Or maybe he’s just insanely drunk. Because in what other universe would his insanely gorgeous co-worker be looking at him with bedroom eyes, one hand gripping his forearm tightly enough to keep him in place, but not enough to bruise. “I think,” Alex says slowly, as though giving Henry a chance to protest, “that we should fuck.” “Excuse me?”

Henry dislikes doing things that he doesn’t excel at, this includes but is not limited to; baking, interior decorating and acting normal around drop-dead gorgeous men who have eyes he can practically dive into and drown in.

Unfortunately for Henry, his new job involves all three.

But Alex is straight, clearly, given how he flirts with every woman that comes through the door, which is fine.

Two can play at this game.

The Best Bar in the World by @pridepages. T, 76k. If someone had asked Alex to picture a gay bar, he probably would have imagined flashing rainbow lights, pounding club music, and a sticky dive floor coated in spilled beer and vodka. The last thing he would have thought of was this...

As Alex drank in the sight, his companion drew back heavy curtains, allowing sunlight to pour in from the quiet courtyard outside. The man turned back with a smile at the look of awe on Alex's face. "Welcome to Wilde's...I'm Henry, and it's a pleasure to meet you at last."

The same day Alex Claremont-Diaz is dumped by his boyfriend, he discover's Wilde's: the best bar in the world.

Or

The one in which Henry Fox owns a bar and falls for one of his regulars.

I only tag an author once per post, but I'm still figuring out firstprince author handles. If you see one I may not know or find a broken link, please give me a heads up!

Master List of RWRB FirstPrince Recs

Master List of Recommendations

[peterparkerluvr]

2+2 | Peter Parker

(gif from @sacharinee)

mature content! 18+

pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Synopsis: Studying with Peter goes exactly right.

content warnings: steamy make out, swearing, sexual content, suggestive dialogue, Adam Sandler.

word count: 1620+

A/N: Hi! This is my first EVER smut, I hope you like it<3

It wasn’t my idea to study for Algebra, it never was. If I had a choice I would abolish Algebra from every school curriculum and burn every math textbook on the Earth, but of course that wasn’t possible.

“Ok, now that we have the x-intercept, we can just insert the y value from the center and finish the equation!” 

“I have no clue what you just said,” Peter’s exasperated sighs fill my ears as I complain about his teaching, “I am just so sorry, I genuinely cannot do math.”

“Yes you can, you’re very smart and very capable and not everyone can add, so it is a-okay!” Sarcasm laces his tone, a humorous glint twinkling in his eye as he sends a cheeky grin my way.

“Ha. I know how to add, 2+2 is equal to 4!” He couldn’t hold in a laugh then, dissolving my prior confidence.

“On that note, let’s take a break!” Peter closed his open notes and pushed the notebooks to his side, stretching from his position.

As he lifts his arms above his head, the edge of his Midtown sweatshirt lifts upwards, exposing his skin and giving me a peek of the definition below. Lean muscle stretches across his abdomen, tensing with every move. His impressive v-line cutting into his torso, deep enough to lap water from-

“Uh, you okay?” his awkward chuckles interrupt my ogling,

“Yeah, yeah.” Spluttering out an excuse, I draw my eyes away from his very rock-hard abdominals and decide to intently stare at the thread hanging from his comforter.

“Let’s watch a movie or something?” He couldn’t hide his unmistakable blush as it crept from the round of his cheeks and flushed towards his chest, oh how I wish I could graze my fingertips across the pink tint on his upper body and-

“Good idea! What are you thinking?” I mention, focusing on his words and pretending to not be soaking wet for my best friend, I quickly dismiss the thoughts plaguing my mind.

“I feel like watching a comedy, take my mind off all the calculations,” He said while scrolling for the perfect piece of entertainment, 

“Besides, anything will be better than those stupid graphing videos she forces down our throats.” 

His soft brown eyes catch mine as they crinkle at the sides, his soft pink lips just begging to touch mine. Leaving me wondering just what other part of him wants to be touched, what other soft, pink things I can-

“Ahem, how about ‘Grownups’? I need a little Adam Sandler in my life right now.” I suggested, I need to rein in my thoughts and I need to do it ASAP.

“Perfect, just what I was thinking. Good job, you’ve found something you’re good at, movie suggestions!” Peter nudged me with his elbow as I moved to climb beside him in his bed.

His very small twin bed where just sitting side by side our thighs were molded together and I could hear his strong, steady heartbeat and his deep breathing.

This boy is going to be the death of me.

He pushes his pillows in an upright position behind us and moves an arm behind my shoulders to create a more comfortable position. His nimble fingers gently squeeze my shoulder as he looks down to catch my eye in an innocent smile.

He has to know what he’s doing to me.

He leans forward to press play on his laptop in front of us, slipping his hold from my shoulder to my waist, slightly pressing his palm into my torso. He shifts back into his former place, bucking his hips upward to settle into the bed.

Many expletives are running through my mind right now.

As the movie begins, all I can focus on are the curls of his hair resting against his forehead. The creamy red tint of his lips run through my mind as I imagine every place on my body I want his mouth to touch. I thought of his even breaths becoming aroused grunts and breathy moans, I imagined his soft voice becoming thick with pleasure and whimpering begs falling past his lips. 

The taut string wound between my thighs pulled, threatening to snap as I let my mind run wild. I mindlessly rocked into the bed, yearning for friction to ease my discomfort. 

Peter’s obnoxious laugh startled me out of my fantasy,

“I forgot how much I love this movie!” His pink lips pulled in a grin exposing his straight teeth, a sliver of his tongue resting between.

“Peter.” My resolve was weakening and I couldn’t resist the need to hear his name pass through my mouth.

“A-Are you okay, Y/N?” His gaze passes from my lips to my eyes, his voice becoming low and small.

“Can I just try something really fast?” My heartbeat quickened its pace as I struggled to gain the confidence to make a move.

His tiny nod my confirmation, I turned to face him and pulled my legs underneath me. Gulping down my fear and apprehension, I focus on the perfect boy sitting in front of me. His deep woodsy eyes boring into mine, his face twisted into one of confusion and a bit of excitement.

I move my fingertips to graze the crook of his neck, dipping into his collarbones and watching a soft blush erupt where my finger trails. I press my hands into his shoulders and lower my head to the crook of his neck. I hear his breathing increase as I move my tongue across the velvety expanse of his collarbone.

Peter releases another breath and latches a hand onto my lower back, slightly digging the tips of his fingers into the skin. I lean closer into him, scooting closer and moving my hand to his slender thigh. My tongue sucks on the smooth skin, warranting more quiet groans from Peter.

His hands push into my back, gripping my sides, faintly pulling my body into his. I push off of his shoulders and lift myself to straddle his legs, settling with our limbs tangled together, his thigh resting between mine. I move from his neck to pepper kisses along his jaw, my hips gently grinding on his thigh, easing the desperation in my clothed heat.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful,” Peter grips my waist and guides my movement, moving a hand to my chin, connecting our lips. His needy tongue invades my mouth, moving his hand to the side of my head, lacing his fingers in my hair. His teeth nip at my lower lip as he continues grinding my cunt along his thigh. 

“Peter,” his name slips from my tongue in whimpers as he continues to let me use his thigh for pleasure. His wet kisses trail down my neck to my collarbone, he kisses into the swell of my breast, sucking gently.

He gently lifts me up and places me directly on his lap, through my position I can feel his erection pressing into my clit through my jeans, applying needed relief to the ache and leading me closer to my peak. His movements become more urgent as he bucks his hips into me, his hardness rubbing against the wetness between my legs.

“You feel so good Y/N, fuck,” His deep beathing becoming throaty grunts, he ruts into my sex as he furthers towards an orgasm. His kisses become urgent as he pushes his fingers into my sides, moving his mouth back to my chest forming hickies and biting into the skin leaving purple bruises on my body.

“Please, Peter,” My head falls to his shoulder, sucking gently on his exposed skin, my nails scratching into his upper back.

“Yeah baby?” His lips move to my jaw as he grips my chin to move my eyes to his, my pupils blown from the pleasure, husky pants leaving my open mouth.

“I’m gonna cum, Peter, please,” His hot mouth connects to mine, connecting in a feverish kiss. Hot and needy, his tongue strokes mine, his hands wrapping around my neck, his fingers pulling me even closer.

“fuck, cum for me baby,” His hand roughly pushes my cunt into his lap, attacking my neck with his tongue. His name drops from my tongue in a chant as I near my orgasm. My moans increase in volume and peak in a whine, my head rolls backwards as my vision blurs. My limbs tense as I ride out my high, moaning Peter’s name, my sex pulsing as I climax.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, Y/N you’re so good baby,” Harshly digging his fingertips into my sides, Peter pushes his head onto my chest as he cums. His hips rut upward into me, his lips sucking on my chest in his pleasure; biting harshly at the exposed skin, his movement slows as he rests on my collarbones.

Our deep breaths mix as we come down from our high. My fingers move to his head, lacing my fingers in his soft brown curls, slightly wet from sweat. Using my chin, I lift his head, meeting large pupils and tinted cheeks. I kiss from his forehead to each side of his face, landing in a sweet kiss on his lips, licking at his bottom lip and chewing at the skin.

“Y/N,” His eyes fill with admiration as he licks the taste of my tongue off of his lips and gives a few kisses to my chest moving up to my jaw, 

“God, you’re so beautiful.” His thumbs trace circles into my waist as he looks up at me.

I push lightly against his chest, turning away from him,

“Wait, have we gotten to the part at the water park yet?” My attention diverting to the laptop screen, awaiting the appearance of Steve Buschemi.

[snorky]

As My Broken Heart Falls To My Feet, You Picked Up The Pieces Having Never Hurt Me Anyway

Hey y’all! I hope you all are having a wonderful and blessed holiday season, and if not, I offer some comfort. Mason Lohrei comfort, sweet like hot cocoa, for the bitter winter air. I haven’t been all in the best spirits recently, but I offer you angels with something special. For those who have studied long and hard for school, or those who seek warmth, here is a story I hope you all enjoy. Take care of yourself!

Pairing: Mason Lohrei x F!Reader

Word Count: 4.3k

Warnings: Toxic Relationship (not with Mason), Angst, Stressed Reader, Infidelity/being cheated on (not by Mason), Drinking/Alcohol consumption (of legal age) (let me know if I need to add anything)

—

—

As the finals and midterms approached, the sense of being a false being, an impostor, filled her to the brim. She wanted to have knowledge, the desire to learn and know more, but there was only so much she could cram in before the next week.

A message buzzed on her phone, once or twice, bringing her back to the suffocating dorm room where she sat at her desk, notes and textbooks and pens sprawled everywhere.

When she looked, on the screen was a message from her significant other, who she felt was too overbearing, poisonous.

Nausea flooded her senses, the world seemingly swaying around her, spinning. Her stomach churned, heart sank, but then it all came to a halt. Taking a breath in, her fingers carefully sent out a response, praying to some higher power that it wouldn’t aggravate him further.

He saw her message no later than a few seconds, and sent a reply back just as quick.

After she responded, she set her phone down, forcing herself to refocus on the information of notes and diagrams in front of her, ignoring the outside world.

But again, her phone buzzed, almost angrily, forcing her attention back towards her phone. She didn’t have to look twice to know who it was, her heart kept its guard up well.

Her head swirled in loss, unable to come up with an answer that would satisfy the both of them. There was no solid answer, someone had to be disappointed.

Every time she went to his place, she left feeling just as empty as she came. All take, no give, and she felt like she no longer had anything to give. Her purpose seemed like a lost cause, drifting around on the Earth, seeking for something to fulfill her meaning.

His words cut through her like a shard of glass, broken from a cup. Common, all too familiar, and yet it hurts every time.

She set her phone down and gathered her notes into her bag, seeking a quick escape to the campus library, alone. No phone, no distraction. It was her safe space, and she'd be damned if it was occupied by someone that made her feel like she had to walk on eggshells.

The walk to the library was short, brisk, the cold evening air more apparent with each passing day. It was crowded, common for this time of year when each student suddenly discovered what a library was.

Luck was on her side as she found a seat near the back, empty and unoccupied. Quickly, she made her way through the mass of people crowding around the large tables, and took a seat at the smaller table.

As she reorganized her notes and books, she started to feel more at ease, at calm. All the information seemed to flow smoothly, easily in her mind, all the equations and diagrams making more sense than ever.

“Oh hey! It’s you!”

She looked up, searching for the voice, and her eyes were met with a familiar face from her analytics class. He was always cheery and energetic, a smile on his face paired with his rosy cheeks seemingly every day, a breath of fresh air from her hectic life.

“Oh, hi Mason.” A soft smile appeared on her face. “What’s up?”

His hands were stuck into the pockets of his jacket, emblem of the school’s hockey team embroidered proudly on the upper left of his jacket. “I’m bored, but I also need your help studying for the exams.”

Observing his face, she knew he was an honest man, no lie weaved in his words. “Yeah?”

“Yeah, I know you’re smart,” he stated with a smile.

She let out a gentle laugh at his words, warning herself not to take it to heart since she was, well, afraid of not meeting his expectations.

“I try, but that’s how it is sometimes,” she sighed. “Come sit, you’re welcome to if you want.” Her hand gestured towards the chair across from her, in which Mason set his bag down beside him as he sat in the chair.

He thanked her as he started to unpack his own notes, careful to not overtake the table. As he started to work on revising and studying his notes, he became stuck, evident in the confusion on his face and his furrowed brows.

She took note of this and tried to help him. “What’s wrong?”

Shaking his head slightly, he set the paper down between the both of them so that she could see the problem.

“How does this like, work?” He pointed towards a question written at the top of the page.

Looking at the paper, she saw a graph with several data points all clustered together in a pattern, as well as an equation written beside it, most likely representing how the data should be represented.

“So the equation represents how the data should show up over a given set of time, and you should first pick two points from the cluster to figure out the predicted trajectory of the data,”

He nodded his head, slowly starting to understand where he should go from there. She watched him as he scrawled down some numbers, using the equation to compare his results.

“Oh, just be careful, the data can switch up if you consider any external factors that might affect the data collected,” she added.

  A smile formed on his face once he got the hang of it, the numbers and words making sense. “Thank you, a lot actually,” he chuckled. “I’ve been stuck on this for a day or two.”

Smiling at him, pride swelling in her heart, she spoke. “My pleasure, Mason. You’re always welcome to reach out to me ya’know? You have my email,”

“Mhm, sorry.” He let out a small laugh as he rubbed his hand on the back of his neck. “I just don’t use email often, I’d prefer to text you if that’s okay,”

She nodded in understanding and scrawled down her number on a post-it note, adding a small smiley face in the corner before she handed it to him.

He took the note and smiled at the little drawing, before putting the slip of paper in his pocket. “Thank you,”

Giving him a small smile, she returned her focus back to her own work, calculus problems to prepare herself for the upcoming exams.

They both worked in silence separately, and yet in each other’s presence. It was comforting, the sense of companionship.

Warm, inviting, it was all amazing, and all felt good. 

Time flowed by like honey, slow and sweet, and it became late at the time it should’ve, and yet she didn’t want to go. The library was almost empty, few students still remaining.

He looked up at her, not wanting to leave either despite the late time. “Do you mind if we study together again?” His eyes were filled with a look of pure sweetness, a smile just as delicate. “I learned a lot from you, and I think that I’d learn more the next time,”

She smiled back, just as sweetly and twice more. “Of course, my pleasure, Mason.”

“Tomorrow?” A twinge of hope was interwoven in his voice.

“Tomorrow.” She nodded.

The look on his face could only be described as pure in her eyes, the look you’d see on a child holding their favorite stuffed animal, knowing that they’d carry it long into their adult years, never forgotten.

As they packed their bags and parted ways, they looked back at one another, still smiling.

She walked back towards her dorm, the night now dark, and only illuminated by the street lamps. The winter chill crept up on her, only making her move faster towards her destination.

When she opened the door to her dorm, her roommate, her best friend, stood in front of her, a rather concerned look etched on her face.

“Where have you been? Your boyfriend seems pretty angry and has been blowing up your phone,” she said nervously, an awkward grin on her face.

Her stomach sunk, a pit that her heart seemed to fall into. “Shucks, I guess I forgot my phone.” A lie, but it was necessary.

“Good luck, I’m here if you need anything.” Her friend saluted her, in which she saluted back as she grabbed her phone off of her desk.

Text after text was displayed on her phone, each message getting more furious after the previous one. 

Carefully, she responded, with as much love and care and forgiveness as a saint would, despite her soul being marred and tainted with fear and doubt.

A few seconds after she sent the text, he called her. Her stomach sunk once more, her skin growing cold and clammy. The phone buzzed in her hand, sounding like a swarm of hornets hurling at her.

As she picked up the call, she anticipated his shouts, filled with wrath and anger, lashing out at her.

And so there was, his rough, gritted voice echoing through the phone, yelling some sort of rhetorical question about her whereabouts, hypocritical when she asked about his evening.

Shortly after, he hung up on her, allowing the silence to sound the other line. Her friend walked back into the dorm room, arms open in sympathy, which she took in the offer for.

“Listen, I’m not telling you what to do, but I think it’s best you drop him,”

She looked up at her friend, not in anger, but in saddened understanding. It was too evident that she was constantly being hurt, being deteriorated by his behavior.

“Just not right now, one day,”

Her friend nodded in understanding and walked back to her bunk while she stood there, thinking. It was a major step, maybe in the right direction, maybe in the wrong, but her foot wasn’t yet planted in the ground.

Nights passed, and it became the day, or rather night before her first exam. Empty disposable cups that were previously filled to the brim with tea were littered all over her desk, her notes scattered around, pens and pencils and highlighters sprawled out.

Her friends were in the library studying together since they had the same classes, as well as a final presentation and paper due, and so it was just her in the shared dorm, alone with the silence.

She had confidence in herself, that she’d do well, maybe even surpass her expectations, but there was some sort of lingering doubt. 

Perhaps that doubt was reinforced by the fact that her significant other barely reached out to her at a time when she needed reassurance. Or maybe how he barely checked in on her, despite her checking in on him.

Tears sat on the edge of her eyes, her vision blurring slightly as she wiped them away, attempting to turn her focus to her work. 

She wanted, desired, a future where she was at peace. Where she could come home smiling, where she would live without fear of disappointing or angering. What she wanted was to get herself back.

As she began to refocus herself on her work, fueled by some fury to be better, the stress seemed to watch her from afar, but not far enough. It was a false ideology to believe that she was okay at the moment, but nothing felt better than masking it for a little while.

Knocking came from her door, which was odd when she considered that her friends told her that they would be back by nine, not seven. She also considered the fact that her friends would most likely have their keys on them.

Getting up from her chair, she walked to the door, confused.

“Hello?”

“Hi.” A familiar voice responded. “It’s me, Mason, from your analytics class.”

She opened the door, revealing him standing there, a beautiful bouquet of flowers in one hand, and a bag of fancy chocolates in the other. His smile seemed extra sweet, sweeter than it normally was, and his face was flushed with a soft pink tint.

“These are for you,” he said, his voice tender and soft.

Her hand came up to her mouth slightly, attempting to cover up the fact that she was beyond awe at what he had brought to her.

“Mason, what—”

Mason quickly became more flustered, embarrassed by the fact that her reaction was a little different from what he’d expected. “I’m sorry if you don’t like them—”

“No no,” she interjected, walking closer towards him, her fingers lightly grazing the petals of the flower. “They’re gorgeous, Mason.”

His smile came back again, beaming with delight as she took the bouquet from his arms. “Thank you,” he said bashfully. “And I got you some chocolates as well, you deserve some after working really hard on studying.”

Her eyes lit up as she noticed it was her favorite, and she looked up at him. “How’d you know?”

“On the first few days of the lectures, you gave everyone around you chocolate,” he chuckled sweetly, his laugh smooth like honey. “You then turned to your friend stating that these were your favorites.”

She blushed, acknowledging how he was attentive to the little things, as well as the gesture of it.

Looking down at the flowers in her arms, she smiled, but not yet understanding why he gave them to her. “And the flowers?”

“A little birdie told me you were not doing so well, and so I thought you might want something that’d maybe cheer you up,”

He smiled more at the sound of her slight laugh at his response, but he could tell that the look in her eyes seemed heartbroken.

“Thank you, Mason,” her voice broke a little. “It means a lot during around this time, ya’know, finals and stuff,”

His face expressed slight worry and concern at the sound of her voice, not sounding as happy as she seemed. “My pleasure, but may I ask you what’s wrong?”

She looked up at him, suddenly vulnerable and scared, but she trusted him. “Just a crappy personal life, that’s all,” she laughed bitterly.

Nodding his head, he hummed in understanding. “I’m here if you need anything, I can assure you that you saved my butt for that analytics class.” He let out a laugh, in which she laughed as well. “Pretty sure I would fail my exam tomorrow if you hadn’t helped me,”

At this point, she finally snapped, the storm of tears flowing down her face rapidly as she sobbed. 

No one had ever thanked her so purely just for helping them. No one had been so kind and sweet to her besides her friends and roommates. Not even her significant other had cared for her this much in a time where she needed it.

“What’s wrong, are you alright?” He quickly took a step closer to her, wrapping his arms around her shoulders as she cried into his chest.

“M’sorry Mason but—” She hiccuped, “I just really appreciate you caring for me like this.”

His hand gently stroked her upper back in a soothing motion as he hushed her, hoping that she’d be comfortable around him.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” he whispered. “I’m really proud of you, alright?”

The kind words fell from his lips so sweetly that she cried even harder, knowing that even her significant other hadn’t said anything reassuring in nature to her.

“Mason, I’m sorry but, not even my boyfriend did anything like this for me.” She continued to cry in his embrace, grateful that no one was watching as he walked them both further into the room, closing the door behind him.

His stomach dropped, not for the fact that she had a boyfriend, but for the fact that her boyfriend, someone who was supposed to be kind and caring towards her, couldn’t even do the bare minimum.

“It’s not your fault. You deserve everything, alright?”

She nodded her head, still wrapped in his arms, and her breaths slowly began to become more steady as time passed.

Her friends came back not too much later, smiling and giggling to each other as they saw her wrapped in Mason’s arms when they walked into the room, the both of them asleep in an awkward position, sitting on the floor. 

When she woke up the next morning to her alarm going off, she was in her bed, tucked in warmly with little to no memory of how she ended up there. Looking over on the bedside table, she saw the familiar bouquet of flowers with the chocolate from Mason last night, but also a sticky note.

Reading the note, she smiled to herself from the thoughtful message that Mason wrote before he left, with a little smiley face in the corner.

He was always so sweet and attentive to small details, making him all the more perfect. But she knew it would be wrong to think of him as anything more than a friend. Just because her significant other couldn’t take care of her doesn’t mean that she could seek out some sort of comfort. Or at least, that’s what went through in her mind.

But the final and midterm exams came and went, and her stress seemed to slowly let go of the grasp it had on her.

She laughed more, smiled more, and got herself back, with one less thing stressing her out. Her friends invited her out for some drinks and food to celebrate, specifically at a bar-and-grill nearby campus.

“Jeez, it’s cold tonight,” her friend shivered, her hands wrapped around herself.

“Dunno why you didn’t want to bring a jacket then,” another friend said, looking over at her. “The right jacket won’t ruin a cute outfit.”

They approached the bar, the sound of nostalgic Christmas music seemed to flow from the open doors, laughter and the clinking of glass from toasts and celebrations interweaved within.

When they all settled down at a table, neatly tucked into one of the dimmer corners of the place, they placed their orders, in which they all settled on some appetizers. The drinks they ordered came by shortly, multiple glasses of varying shapes and sizes, colors and flavors since they decided to treat themselves.

“Cheers!” Her friend said, holding up her raspberry daiquiri in the air. “Cheers to a new semester of learning!”

They all clinked their drinks together, smiles plastered on their faces in pure happiness. Jokes and banter were shared, their laughter filling the air like fluff, and conversations that seemed so natural.

As they were all enjoying the night, her phone buzzed, and the unsettling feeling crept up on her again.

Looking at the text that appeared on the screen of her phone, she couldn’t tell whether or not she should cry, or laugh. Her significant other was no longer significant it seemed, having admitted to being unfaithful, having admitted to being what she thought he wasn’t.

She laughed, drawing the focus and attention to her at the table as she held her face with one hand, holding her phone with the other. The mix of alcohol in her system didn’t seem to make it all clearer.

“What happened? What’s so funny?”

“He did it,” she paused. “He actually did it.”

All of her friends looked at her in confusion, unaware of the turmoil that boiled within her. She slid her phone to her friends, showing them the messages that he sent to her, the confession of his infidelity. Their faces all turned to shock, jaw-dropped and mouths agape.

One of her friends set their hand on her shoulder gently, “Oh my gosh, are you alright?”

She smiled back at them, almost wrongly for the situation at hand. “I am now, he’s no longer mine.”

As she sent her final text to him, a formal message of separation, she put her phone in her bag, and picked up her drink.

“Cheers to everlasting happiness!”

They all arose in celebrations, toasts, cheers, smiles and all the sorts, fireworks almost sparkling in the air. It was a new start, but especially for her. The world seemed more vibrant now, the fuzzy soft glow of the bar lights making everything all the more ethereal, and it reminded her of Mason.

She smiled as she thought of him, his soft lips that smiled so sweetly and only spoke kindly, his bright eyes when he was passionate, and his laugh that was so contagious.

“Jeez, is it the alcohol that is making you all flustered or is there something else?” Her friend laughed.

“I think she’s thinking about her prince charming,”

“Speak of the devil—”

When she looked up from her drink, her eyes met Mason looking right at her, a smile appearing on his face as he saw her. It seemed as if her prayers were answered by some higher power.

Her blushed face became more blushed, hot on her skin, and her world seemed to become a fuzzy blurry madness. His own face seemed to light up at the sight of her, cheeks beautifully rosy, even in the dim lighting.

She looked back at her friends, their smiles softly encouraging her, beaming with bright pride for her success, and then she wandered off towards the direction of him, his warmth lulling her in. 

As she approached him, he seemed all the more soft, no sharp edges or harsh words. He was an angel, more beautiful than ever now.

“Oh, hey you,” he said softly.

She couldn’t necessarily hear him, especially over the loud music, but she read his lips as if it were the first language she ever learned.

“Hi, Mason.” Her lips were upturned in a dopey smile,

He observed her with soft eyes, admiring her seemingly endlessly, her beauty holding him in a trance.

“Are you okay?” he asked with genuineness. “You don’t normally like to drink and go out like this,”

A soft, saddened look seemed to take over her face, her heart searching for why he was so concerned. 

“Sorry, I don’t mean it in a rude way, it’s just that you—” His pause made him feel confused at his own words as well, not knowing why he was so worried about her. “I want you to be safe, and I know you’re with your friends, but I just want to be sure,”

She smiled at his sweetness, a familiar pattern now that he seemed to always be the one making her smile. “It’s okay, I’m safe,” she assured him. “I’m single now, he doesn’t have me anymore.” 

He stood there, frozen in shock at her suddenness, unexpecting the reason behind her energy being more outward and extroverted.

“Oh—” He paused, not knowing what to say. “Are you alright?”

“Better than ever.” She gave him another soft smile as she tried to move back to her friends, waiting at the table for her, but Mason’s hand gently grasped hers.

“Please stay with me, we can go get some food, another place more quiet, just me and you.” His eyes twinkled with a newfound magic, like little sparklers on New Year’s Eve.

She nodded as a response, her face more flushed than ever with the alcohol in her system, tipsy and woozy. “I’ll go tell my friends, I don’t wanna scare ‘em,”

As she went to tell her friends, he let his own friends know about his whereabouts before he followed behind her, making sure that she’s okay. She quickly pulled out a twenty dollar bill to cover her own drinks and foods’ expenses, setting it down on the table where her friends were.

“M’kay, let’s go,” she said, holding Mason’s hand as she led them both out of the stuffy, noisy bar. He nodded, following her without complaint, happy to see her energetic and lively.

The fresh air was cold and sharp against their skin, making her shiver slightly as it was colder than before when she arrived at the bar. Mason took quick note of this and shrugged off his jacket, placing it over her shoulders.

She looked up at him, a soft, gentle look in her eyes that made him melt into a blush. “Thank you,” she whispered, her breath visible in the air.

“My pleasure,”

They both continued walking down the street, fingers intertwined with each other’s hand, the snow falling down like petals from a flower, flurrying around the both of them like magic in the air. It crunched beneath their feet, the sound familiar to the winter for the both of them. 

The light from the lamp post shone delicately, fuzzily on their figures as they walked down the street, the sound of Christmas music flowing out of a nearby restaurant. 

She gave a gentle tug on Mason’s hand, looking up at him with wonder in her eyes. It was a newfound magic, to see her so happy, so free from her stress it seemed.

“Dance with me,”

“You don’t have to ask me twice.”

He gently held her hand in his, the warmth between their palms being shared, and placed a hand on her back, pulling her closer to him, which in turn erupted a soft giggle from her.

They twirled around together, laughing, smiling more than ever. She’d never felt so free before, so unbound to any restriction in her life. His heart seemed to grow at the sight of her, free from the weight on her shoulders, and how she seemed to be more heavenly.

“You’re so beautiful,” he sighed.

Her cheeks became more red, a lovely concoction of being enamored, slightly tipsy, as well as the cold air. “You are too, Mason.” She paused for a brief moment, admiring his features, his gorgeous eyes, lips, all that he had. “You’re so lovely,”

Their night was spent full of laughter, sweetness, the sort of things she could only ever dream of, and here it was, a reality. It was a new start for her, a fresh, clean start for her life, a new chapter, new beginnings.

[chosen-hero-inari]

Whumptober Day 8: Sleep Deprivation

5 Times The Phantom Thieves Didn't Sleep + 1 Time They Did

I

Hey, let’s meet up at Mementos today.

Yusuke’s ashamed of the tension that goes through his back at that text. The literature professor had decided to give them all a surprise take-home paper to write and turn in by tomorrow, and he really needs to work on it.

But, he can’t let his grades come before making sure his friends are ok, can he? Or the people who made those requests. It’s not a problem, he can just work late tonight. And take some time to work on that piece for class.

He’ll be fine with only a couple of hours of sleep.

II

“Makoto?” Sae asks. “You’re back late.”

“Sorry, busy with some work after school,” Makoto replies, yawning. If it’s resolving a Mementos request for another student, then technically it’s Student Council work. It’s her responsibility as Student Council President to resolve it at least.

“Are you prepared for your exam at cram school tomorrow?”

Makoto blinks. “Huh?”

“Makoto! I’m paying for you to go and–”

“No, I meant, erm why would you even bother to ask that?” Makoto chuckles. “Obviously I’m ready for it!”

“Good, even if it’s a practice exam, it’s important to be confident now so you’re even more prepared for your entrance exams.”

Makoto goes to the kitchen and makes herself a pot of coffee. She shouldn’t be up too late.

III

“Does this shit make any sense to you?” Ryuji asks.

“Nope,” Ann sighs. Putting the math textbook down. Two heads are supposed to be better than one, but maybe math homework is just too powerful for that.

“God,” Ryuji says, “I feel like you’re gonna call me a shithead for this.”

“I call you a shithead for a lot of things, what is it?”

“It fucking sucks that Ren asked us to go to Mementos today.”

“Honestly? Hard agree.” They’d invited Ren to their homework session today, but he’d never gotten back to them. Not that he needed it, but you know, it was always nice to hang out.

Except they wanted to do this in the afternoon, when they’d have more time and could meet at a cafe.

Instead, Ren decided today was the best day for requests.

“What if we blocked off Mementos for like, Wednesdays?” Ryuji suggests. “Then we can schedule around it better?”

“But what if a request is urgent. Plus Palace stuff.”

“Ugh, you’re right.”

Ann flops back and lets the textbook cover her face.

“Ann?”

“Yeah.”

“I kinda hate that I can’t tell him no.”

“Yeah, I know but like, it’s whatever?” Ann says. “That’s just part of being a student and a Phantom Thief, I guess.”

IV

Haru practically dives for the phone when she hears it ring. “Futaba-chan?”

“Hey, I got the info you wanted,” Futaba says. “This investor seems pretty clean.”

“Oh my gosh, thank you so much,” Haru says. “I’m supposed to get this report in to the investors tomorrow and I can’t ask for a delay and I wasn’t sure who to trust and–”

“Hey, no problem!” Futaba says. “Just don’t tell them you heard it from me.”

“Thank you, I owe you so much, Futaba-chan.”

“No prob, I’m probably gonna pass out, how about you?”

“I can’t, there are still things I need to arrange with my father’s will and then I’m meeting with lawyers in the morning, goodness I need more coffee!”

“How much have you had?” Futaba asks.

“Oh, four or five–”

“Cups?”

“Pots.”

“Holy shit, Haru!”

“I know, I know,” Haru says. “I was going to do all of this after school but then we had that Mementos run and now I have to do it all before morning.”

“You should have just told Ren you couldn’t make it! He gets we have lives, it’s not like he hangs out with us every time we ask.”

“Mementos is different Futaba, you know that. I’ll talk to you later.” Haru hangs up and gets back to work.

V

It’s not wrong to hack her friends’ phones if she’s genuinely concerned for their well-being, Futaba tells herself.

Besides, taking a quick peak at their calendars is like, barely snooping. She could text and ask them but she’s really hoping they’re asleep.

She’s not, but she doesn’t have school in the morning. She can go to bed at 7am and still get the proper eight hours of sleep a growing girl needs.

She and Morgana are the only ones who aren't students and Phantom Thieves though, and oh boy is being a high school student busy.

Let’s see, Makoto has an exam at cram school tomorrow, Haru had that meeting they were just talking about, Ryuji and Ann were texting (ok texts were a bit more snooping than calendars, but like, it’s important!) about meeting up to do a bunch of homework they’d put off while they were clearing Sae’s Palace, and Yusuke had an email reminder from a teacher about an essay.

And none of them had brought any of this up when Ren asked them all to go to Mementos today.

Damn, looks like Futaba has to be the responsible one.

+1

Ren doesn’t know why Futaba suddenly suggested group movie night, but hey, it’s always good when she wants to be social, and his schedule’s free now that they’ve finished up the requests.

They all gather around the attic, and Ren’s a little worried about them all watching the tiny TV, but it’s not really a problem, because pretty much everyone else falls asleep by the fifteen-minute mark.

“Wow, they’re tired,” Ren says. “Guess they don’t have Mona to tell them to get to bed early.”

“Uh, Ren about that?” Futaba asks. “Do you ask if anyone has stuff going on before saying to meet up for Phantom Thief stuff?”

Ren blinks. “I mean, I guess not but I figure they’ll tell me if it’s super urgent.”

“Ok, but see, I think they don’t,” Futaba says. “I actually asked all of them about it, and they feel really bad about canceling Mementos plans, so they push all their stuff back and do it at night. Like none of them got any sleep the last couple of days.”

Ren furrows his brows. He kinda, hasn’t thought about how his friends are always willing to show up when he calls for a meeting, even on days they’re not normally free to hang out. He just, you know, figured they did the same things he did. He doesn’t have a problem getting everything done before going to Mementos.

Then again, he’s the one picking Mementos days because he has nothing else going on.

“I’m a shit leader,” Ren says head hanging back.

“No, I don’t think you’re shit!” Morgana says. “We just gotta tell them they don’t have to come to Mementos if they’re busy, it’s not a problem to push it back.”

“We could like, make a group calendar?” Futaba suggests. “Plan ahead a little bit? I mean Palaces and emergencies are one thing, but I dunno, maybe everyone can plan better and say if they super duper can’t?”

“Yeah,” Ren says. “But uh, let’s do that later. They look like they need their sleep right now.”

[scentedpepper]

Oranges

EDDIE MUNSON X MALE READER

Summary: This HAS to be Eddie's year.

Content Warnings: (Spolier) Character Death

Other Pairings: Billy Hargrove x Male Reader

AUTHOR NOTE(S):

Fuck ya'll for making it cringe to like eddie

On other, more important notes, some background info and sincere warnings for ya:

This scene takes place s4 era. Reader graduated last year (s3) currently 18 going on 19. Felt like this was important to note given that our dear little failure here is a grown ass man and it'd be a tad bit strange to pair the little fucker with a highschool student.

Reader works as an intern at the school, hence, Eddie Munson.

Could possibly turn into a series (I have big dreams and not enough energy)

For those of you who have NOT seen s3, you will get spoiled by the end of this little thang so yk proceed with caution or wtv

Ummmmm

Oh right so, I know it says x Reader but this scene was in fact written with the intentions of putting an OC into the series. So for now, you're Joey.

That's it 🫶

_________________________________________

"No- No! See? This is- 'and it is'. Use an adverb to explain the connection and create... emotion. "

Eddie sinks in his own posture and slides a hand over his face, knocking his fringe sideways and out of the way. They have been at this for a while, and he's had enough. "You're not connecting the dots like I'm connecting the dots. "

"Those are literally dots. " Joey gestured towards the piece of paper that sat between them, littered with penmarks, of Eddie's choosing. He couldn't quite decphier why the man was lazily scratching the paper with color in certain areas. He peered closer at the margin on the left, words written across the blank surface that seemed made up. "How are you gonna connect something that wasn't written... this is an argumentative essay, Eddie. You're not allowed to just make up facts. " He wants to jab those pens underneath his eyelids. "What're all these marks for?"

"Alright, say, say this little orange, " Joey watches Eddie move his pen towards the tiny round doodle with squinted eyes, "what if it was in an orange?"

He's going to fail this.

Joey stares at the man unimpressed. "I've been sitting here trying to teach you how to write an arugmentative analysis on an article for the last hour, and you're drawing oranges on your paper?"

"With faces!" Eddie counters, pointing his orange pen– Joey's orange pen in the opposites face.

Joey snatches the pen from his hand abruptly and drops it, clattering down and across the wooden floor.

The pair of them have only gotten so far in this session of teaching. 'This session' being 1.5 hours, and Eddie had yet to pick up on the technique Joey had used to teach himself the tricks and secrets to these things years ago. Though, maybe he was giving him too much credit. The way the doe eyed mans head tilts to the side when he goes to the page and scans the lines for his answer seemed too much to bear.

They're in his trailer, surrounded by textbooks on the table that once belonged to Joey. This place, now that their studying system wasn't some figment of Joey's imagination brought to life, was a lot messier than he'd have liked it. But Munson came first.

Eddie wasn't dumb. Far from it, really. But in this moment he was. Maybe not, if you don't count the fact he wasn't listening. For the last hour. Or two. Joey definitely couldn't count because that sounded too depressing and he really did need to rethink his strategy.

"Sometimes doing homework is like sticking a fork in an electric socket. "

Nancy's words, not his, but either way he believes that now as well.

Joey stared at the older man's frame as he lay with his back against the rug on the carpet, eyes closed, another pen, teal, or at least the closests thing to it, hanging out of his mouth and some paper resting next to the upper half of his body.

"Eddie. "

"Yes, kind sir?" He quickly gets up, the second he hears his voice. He rests his arms on top of the surface of the round coffee table. "I'm totally paying attention, go on. "

Joey manages a breath before he rips the pen from Eddie's mouth and places it aside. Eddie gaped like a fish for a few moments too long and then took his pen back.

"You can't draw oranges in an analysis essay, please pay attention. "

Joey can feel his hair stand on end when he turns back to the English work.

"Yeah but hear me out, everyone is an orange. "

Joey's eyes flee back up to the man. "Eddie–" He protests.

"Just..." The man's mouth opens and a hint of an apology graces his soft facial structure but is soon replaced by his stubborn stance, his leg jolts slightly with his arms as he pushes his palms forward to the table. "C'mon. I'm smart, right?"

"...Yes?"

Eddie smiles triumphantly. His hair, resting in beautiful knots beside his ears. "Think about it. " He puts a finger up to his temple, tapping it twice. "People are oranges, and each orange is unique. Alike, but totally different. Maybe the ones with the nugget are rotten, or they taste more bitter or whatever. But someone likes 'em–"

"For their orange flavour?"

"Orange flavour. " Eddie grins at him. Joey has his suspicions about that grin.

"Sure, Ed. " He picks up his pencil and twists it around. "Now sit down. " He deadpans, eyes scanning the book passage in front of him.

Nonetheless, Eddie prevales. "You're my favorite orange. "

Joey gives him a look, his features remaining blank but there's a strange– almost longing tension to his jaw.

"You know why?" He drags out the last word while simultaneously circling the others nose with the orange pen he'd reterived without notice before giving the tip of the mans nose a prompt 'boop!'. "Because. "

A pause. Longer than Joey would have liked.

"..What?"

His eyes trace down his face.

"You're bigger. "

"Bigger?" He stares down the man incredulously. "What the fuck does that mean?"

"It means–!" Eddie's eyes turn back into his and he smiles coyly, "that you give me bigger... biggaaa— heart boners. Every time we are alone. Y'know? Just us. " He pauses to watch the anger burning in the others eyes, "You... bein' all tall and broad and... strong. "

The end of his sentence is like a purr but it lacked the proper 'o' sound to make the word seductive. –The ridiculous flexing didn't do much to help him either.

"Heart boners?" Joey cracks a smile, unable to keep his face muscles strewn tight. "Jesus. Shut up. "

"We could play house. I wouldn't mind being a house wife. " Eddie tucks his hair behind his ear, sitting pretty. His eyes reflect a perverse joy.

In turn, Joey rolls his eyes, teeth peaking out from beneath his lips. "Analysis first –then you can cook and clean for me all you want. "

Not a minute later does Eddie get on his knees before lunging forward, throwing his arm around his shoulder and ruffling the brunettes hair. Joey struggles, laughter spilling out in unsteady puffs of air. "Hey, what the hell is your problem?!"

Eddie let's him loose after a few more moments of struggle and the sight Joey offers makes him beam. "It's nice to see you smile. " He admits. "You've been all, edgy, lately. "

Once again, it's always so very easy to lose this man's train of thought with simple distractions such as putting his hair up in a high bun and pushing stray strands behind his ears.

"Used to be all kind smiles and doe eyes. "

Somethings got to give.

"Ever since the mall fi–"

"Didn't realize you paid so much attention to me, Eddie. " He interrupts.

"Well, you just make it so hard not to. " Eddie grins widely at him, his eyes practically twinkling.

Eddie tries not to get too sore over things. Least of all with Joey. Especially since he's got a knack for tip toeing his way out of things himself. Today isn't the day for that, apparently. Because Eddie isn't having it. Which is annoying.

"Look, " he tries again, "I'm not saying you have to –ya know? Say anything. You've just been different...than before. "

That much he knows, Eddie's always noticed things. Because that's who he is and all the time he spent to by himself over the course of his many highschool years has taught him to be an observer, and it just so happened that he had the knowledge to tell when and how things were off.

But there was always something about the way the brunette carried himself, stiff on his feet and jittery like a trapped mouse, no one gave it much thought.

Not even Eddie really.

"You didn't even know me before, Eddie. " Joey's looking at the man with tired eyes, he wonders where his reasoning is coming from. Had they talked more? And how did he manage to create this image of him into a person he had no inkling of a memory towards?

"Hey, I beg to differ. " Eddie counters, "I've known you for like..." He counts on his fingers, recalling he was supposed to garduate two years before Joey. "Six years!"

Joey scoffs. "And out of all those years, we've only had a real conversation in these past few months. "

Eddie goes a little quiet after that.

"So you can wipe that memory of... whatever you have in your head. " His chest swells with an unwelcome pain and he holds his breath.

The man doesn't waver. "Thats not how this works. " His brows furrow, etching serious lines into his forehead. "I've seen you. You've changed since then. "

"No I haven't. " Joey's gaze flickers towards the man, eyes stern but deep within them stir the turbulent anger Eddie had become quite familiar with his whole life.

"You have. " Eddie continues. "Your laughs not as loud, " He gestures vaguely towards the brunettes chest. "You seem more sad than, -than you usually are? Is what I mean..."

Eddie draws his bottom lip between his teeth and bites down nervously.

"Eddie, just drop it. " He's turning in his place, pulling one foot beneath him on the floor as his butt brushes the fabric beneath his thighs.

Eddie goes silent but for only a few minutes because without much reluctance he's lifting the forgotten orange pen from the wooden floorboard again and twirling it between his fingers.

"...Joey. " He says softly after a few long moments. "This town's shitty. "

And if he'd said this to the man about a year ago, he wouldn't have agreed. But now, he feels like he's being stabbed in the chest at the mere sight of it.

Eddie, himself, makes him forget sometimes. The bad and all it's misery.

He's not all that happy about that.

Not as much as he should be. Would've been.

"You know, I'm here. " Eddie leans in a bit, in hopes his friends words along with his guts may spill right out from him, "As much as you are for me with these–" He lifts one from the table before promptly letting it fall from his fingertips. "shitty textbooks. "

Joey swallows roughly, the lump in his throat straining but after a few seconds, he can't help it.

He lets out a long sigh, containing himself all in one breath. "I knew someone..." He starts slow and doesn't seem keen on finishing.

"In the mall fire?"

A huff this time. "Yes– the mall fire. " It felt funny to adress it as such. A false statement.

He feels tense all over, skin rubbing against the denim pants he wore like sandpaper against dry wood.

"My friend–" He pauses to scoff. "If you could even call the asshole that. " And of course, he's still trying to conceal it, the fact that those months apart had been the worst months of his life.

Billy. Fucking, Hargrove. Who would've thought he'd end up on his mind so often?

"He– passed. " The words come out heavy, sitting cold on his tongue and tasting bitter when the admission leaves him. "In the fire. "

Bullshit. Fucking fire. Really?

...

[beautifulbuckys]

The Fire and the Flame [1/8]- George Weasley x Reader

“Impossible is in, I don’t know if you know that.”

“You’re impossible, did you know that?” George laughed, standing up and pushing himself out of the ancient wooden chair. As he stood, the chair creaked, even louder when he relieved the back of the wood from his heavy book bag. 

Summary: As Quidditch season starts, your schedule gets flooded with Quidditch players who are too busy with their schoolwork. What happens when your newest pupil isn’t what you thought he was?

A/N: Hi! This is my small dabble back into writing, I really missed it <3

Quidditch season was fun, sure.

The thrill of typically innocent house-to-house competition was thrilling. Everyone rooted for their team, sports lover or not. Some muggleborns compared it to muggle ‘futball’.  The constant woosh that Quidditch players made from feet above you, balancing beautifully on their thin broomsticks. 

What wasn’t fun? The influx of students needing to be tutored. Sure, you loved tutoring those in need. Though typically, the students you tutored were having genuine struggles. It was a different kind of magic to watch a subject click for someone struggling. During Quidditch season, it was a different story. Nobody was struggling because they didn’t understand why you needed a frog eye for the midnight projection potion. They weren’t struggling because they couldn’t grasp the certain hand flicks needed for more advanced charms. People were now struggling simply because they were falling behind. This especially happened to the Quidditch players themselves. You honestly can’t blame them. They’re amazing at a celebrated sport and they’re committed to something grand! However, it’s frustrating when you’re mandated to tutor them and they act like you’re a burden for being required to. Every single time you’ve tried to tutor the star chaser, they’ve given you a sour attitude and made you feel small. 

Amd now? You’re stuck in the library waiting for your newest Quidditch star pupil to arrive.

It was almost curfew, but tutors get an excuse as we’re hand selected by the heads of our houses. Pupils gain that advantage too, if they select the late time slot. Although it’s judging a book by its cover, many Quidditch players suspiciously chose this time slot. 

Quietly, you assemble your Wizardry Poetry textbooks that you’ve been studying for the year. Wizardry Poetry is a small, less popular elective. Many people that take the class take it to get out of Snape’s detentions, as he seems to have a small space in his miniscule heart for her. Nobody calls him out for it, they just quietly take advantage of the crush. Although it’s not the most popular, it’s exciting. In your opinion, poetry is a light shone into a dark corner nobody wants to explore. Poetry is raw emotion, something people typically cower away from at the opportunity. That’s what makes wizard poetry so exciting. Many pieces written by the famous wizard poets highlight the balance between dark magic and light. It’s a weapon used by those already wielding a powerful tool. 

“Erm,” A deep voice suddenly broke the calming silence of the Hogwarts library. “Are you my poetry tutor?”

You picked your head up from your bookbag, noticing the tall Gryffindor beater standing sadly behind the seat across from you. “Oh yes! Hi. Feel free to take a seat,” You cringed at the formalities. The pupils you’re used to aren’t shy about loudly announcing their presence and obnoxiously filling the small table space. This was new. “George, right?”

He nodded, “How’d you know?”

You chuckled quietly. “You’re the quieter of the two.” The boy said nothing in response to this, seemingly validating your point. Although you’re not particularly friends with the 2 boys, you knew them. You were in the same year and had a few classes with the twins. This is how you knew the difference. Both George and Fred were in your potions class. They sat next to each other, to nobody’s surprise. Fred, who always sat on the left, had a knack for clanging glasses together and making unnecessary comments. Although they were together in that class, you could just tell George was more reserved than his brother. They both laughed together and made jokes, but it was obvious. George was in your Wizardry Poetry class. When it’s just him, his reserved nature becomes a lot more apparent. “So, if you don’t mind me asking, what exactly are you struggling with?”

You knew him in class. He definitely wasn’t struggling. He grasped the subject pretty strongly whenever he was called upon to read or make a comment. To an outsider, he might’ve been a poet already. 

“Well, honestly, I’m just more busy than anything else. Quidditch is just getting to the exciting part of the season and I have sunrise practices every morning. The team’s practice schedule is no joke,” he laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. “And honestly? I think poetry is kind of stupid,”

Stupid?

“Poetry isn’t stupid.”

“Sure it is,” George said. “It’s boring and tries to be all deep and stuff. Maybe if it took itself a little less seriously I’d feel the opposite,”

You shouldn’t be as offended as you are. You strongly disagreed with him. Poetry was a gorgeous example of literary art. Sure, it can be difficult to scan for meaning and purpose. However, you feel that the payoff of understanding the raw emotion written by an artist. “Whatever you say George, I’m not here to change your mind, just change your grade. Have you started the assignment she gave us on Tuesday?”

Our poetry teacher assigned us an arguably simple project due at the end of the semester. We were expected to craft a page long piece of poetry about our experiences with magic. She said we had full creative capabilities with our projects, and she wasn’t going to judge or grade our topic chosen. She was mostly looking for our understanding of poetry and is expecting us to pull ideas from previous wizard poets. 

George gently shook his head, the shoulder-length red hair he grew out dancing on his shoulders. “Nope,” He popped the ‘P’ in nope, flashing a cheeky smile.

This was going to be a long few weeks. 

As George and I reviewed his work and created an academic plan to ensure he doesn’t fall behind, it became painfully obvious why George was failing. He grasped the subject with the grip of a giant. It’s not that he didn’t understand stanzas and line numbers. George just didn’t have a reason to care. He had no aspiration of ever becoming a poet, and it became noticeable that George only joined the class to get out of Snape’s detentions. It didn’t make sense though. How could he understand so much and just not care? Did he not have a personal connection to the class?

Maybe all he needed was a lifeline. 

“I think this session was really helpful to you George. Please remember, we’re meeting Thursday at the same time,”

George raised his eyebrows at you, awkwardly grinning. “I might have a surprise Quidditch practice,”

“Why would you know about it if it was a secret, George?” Was he seriously trying to skip out on our session? You found that the session was something that could strengthen George’s academic record. It also helps that he was someone actually enjoyable to talk to. Who knows, maybe you could even teach him the real magic of poetry while you were at it.

“You’re impossible, did you know that?” George laughed, standing up and pushing himself out of the ancient wooden chair. As he stood, the chair creaked, even louder when he relieved the back of the wood from his heavy book bag. 

[cursesavior]

✉ @gravesung said: 🎤 UNO REVERSE CARD from chiaki <333

When he's not on missions or training, life at Jujutsu Tech can actually be rather... Mundane. It had surprised him at first, how normal things could be in this strange place, but as the months went by he'd settled in more and become accustomed to the comfortable, slow intermissions between the insanity that was fighting curses. It's always quiet when he's not in class - Satoru is off on another mission, of course, Shoko is locked away in her room studying dense medical textbooks, and his underclassmen are nowhere to be seen - maybe Haibara dragged Nanami out into town or something, who knows. He doesn't think he's seen Chiaki all day, either... Either way, they're not here. It can be a little eerie, when the halls are silent and empty - even in his own room, the quiet can be suffocating. Maybe that's why he feels so compelled to shatter it into pieces.

It doesn't matter, right? Everyone's gone, or so he thinks, and those he's unsure of don't have a room too close to his - so it shouldn't be a problem if he pops a CD into his stereo and turns the music up a bit louder than he'd typically care to. He's normally more considerate, but when he doesn't think there's anybody around to consider, well... He can get a little carried away, if he lets himself.

Truly, Suguru had intended it to be background music while he flipped between homework and sketching to de-stress, but it doesn't take long for him to get distracted, the harsh noise of the guitar pulling his attention away again and again, each time turning the volume dial up just a bit louder. After a few tracks he's completely forgotten his original task, gripping his hairbrush as a faux microphone and holding it up to his lips while he stands on his bed. It's all so silly, so ridiculous - but just for a little bit, he forgets about all the stress and pressure of being a sorcerer. For a little while, he just feels like a normal teenager.

"Forget about the dirty looks! The photographs your boyfriend took! You said you'd read me like a book, but the pages are all torn and frayed!" And then for a moment his voice drops, almost to a whisper- "I'm okay... I'm OKAYYYYY! I'm okay now!" Before it erupts back, competing with the music in terms of volume, frantic and desperate. "But you really need to listen to me, because I'm telling you the truth, I mean this, I'M OKAY-"

Cutting through the noise, the knock on his door nearly makes him jump out of his skin, narrowly avoiding falling off his bed as he stumbles to turn the volume down and toss the brush aside. Oh my god, he hadn't even realized how loud he was being until just now - just kill him now, seriously. He opens the door with a sheepish smile, rubbing the back of his neck as he coughs awkwardly. Chiaki - he'd assumed she'd been on a mission too, but she was so quiet that it was easy to miss when she was drifting around the school. Ugh, this is so embarrassing...

"Um... Hey. Sorry about that...?" His tone is questioning, as if he's not sure if he should be apologizing or if the music was the reason she was here in the first place. It probably was - he'd certainly be telling him to shut up too, if he was in her shoes. "I, uh. Didn't think anyone was around."

[transitranger327]

Alright WolfWren Nation, y’all asked for it, here’s Ehn’yuste Chapter 2:

Chapter 2: “The Wolf of Clan Wren”, in which Sabine remembers her Mandalorian family, then gets married in front of the rest of her family.

Notes: the number of ancillary ships I can have in this fanfic increases exponentially with each chapter I post. Also how is this chapter almost 3k words? I think I need an in-universe Star Wars queer theory textbook. Thanks to @shinhatisgirlfriend for the Mando’a marriage vows.

One year after the Ignition

“Bo-Katan, please, this is too generous.” Sabine was examining the “spare apartment” Bo-Katan “had laying around” that was more like a small complex than the studio Sabine expected. There were four bedrooms, multiple refreshers, a large gathering space, a kitchen big enough to host a clan dinner, a currently-empty armory, and a small office with a separate entrance. “Well I knew the Countess of Clan Wren would be back one day, so I kept this open for you.” Shin was still unclear about the noble titles, so asked “Why do you keep calling Sabine ‘countess’?” “Oh she didn’t tell you? She’s the head of a minor clan, so by tradition she’s a countess.” “I didn’t want the title! Tristan was supposed to be count.” Sabine sounded very annoyed despite being in an armory. “Yeah, well too bad, he isn’t here. You aren’t the only sibling the responsibility meant for another.” Shin sensed an implied “we” from Bo-Katan. 

“It was your sister, wasn’t it?”  “Yes, my sister was Duchess before she died.”  “During the purge?” “No, she died much earlier than that, during the Shadow War. Sabine was a toddler and Ahsoka was fresh out of the Order, helping us.” “Really, Ahsoka was involved?” “Where do you think she got her beskar armor pieces? Oh, that reminds me”

Bo-Katan pressed a single button on her vambrace, “Arms, you have the beskar’uliik prepped?” “Affirmative, Lady Kryze,” the Armorer’s voice spoke from Bo-Katan’s comlink, “but I thought we agreed to keep nicknames to after-hours activities.” “Sorry, I think it might be a habit now. Please meet Shin Hati at the Great Door.” Sabine emerged from the armory, “Arms, huh? I take it that this Armorer is more that just a colleague.” Bo-Katan’s cheeks blushed, and she quickly changed the subject. “Shin, you’re going with the Armorer to retrieve the beskar you have on your shuttle. Sabine, come with me, I have some things I want to show you.”

“Really, Arms? That was the best pet name you could come up with?” Sabine was laughing at Bo-Katan as they walked thru the lower levels of Sundari. “It’s not just short for Armorer, her arms are so strong and dreamy from the forging she does all day.” Sabine could feel the butterflies inside Bo-Katan thru the Force. “Does she have a name?” “If I knew, I wouldn’t tell you. That’s her secret to share.” The approached a door labelled simply “Remember”. “This is where we store any intact pre-purge armor,” Bo-Katan said as she opened the door. The room was stark, with few armor pieces in sight. “Many of what was stored here was found by the surface survivors. Once we ignited the great forge, we sorted them by clan. Any piece that could be identified was kept in their families, and the unclaimed was returned to the forge.” Sabine felt an immense grief. So many families gone. “Don’t be sad, Sabine. The room is empty, not because there was so little beskar’gam, because most everything has been reforged. Empty, that is, except for these.” They were now standing in front of the only armor in the room. “This is the remainder of Clan Wren. The pauldron, I believe, is your mother’s.” Sabine picked up the shoulder pad. It was Wren yellow, with a purple Phoenix that Ursa let her paint on after they liberated Mandalore all those years ago. “This shin guard I suspect to be Tristan’s,” Bo-Katan continued as she flipped the piece over to reveal a “TW” pressed into the back. Sabine smiled as she remembered the day she and her brother forged their beskar’gam. She had a matching “SW” pressed into her shin guard. “And this armor belonged to your cousin, Kala.” Sabine asked, “How do you know?” “She died in my arms. We were trying to escape from Moff Gideon, and while Axe and Koska survived our escape, Kala didn’t make it.” Sorrow threatened to fill the air. Sabine reached for comfort and found a tradition among rebel pilots, “We’ll drink to their memories tonight.” “Yes, we will. In the mean time, we need to forge at least some beskar’gam for your wife. I know most Jedi don’t like armor, but maybe she’ll go for the braces and guards like Ahsoka did.” 

The Great Forge was about as loud as Shin expected, all things considered. The pounding of hammers was only intermittent, but the fires roared louder than most. Probably had to be hotter in order to work the beskar. The Armorer had used what amounted to an ornately decorated hover-stretcher to move the sizable amount of metal from the Wolf to the Great Forge. Shin felt a familiar presence enter the room, a welcome relief from all the suspicious looks she was receiving. “Hey there riduur, ready to become a Mandalorian?” Sabine had woven her fingers into Shin’s, “What armor would you like to wear?” Shin had been thinking about this since the Armorer had informed her that she would need to be wearing at least some armor for the wedding to be valid under Mandalorian law. ��I was thinking, what if we just replaced the armor I do wear with Mandalorian versions?” Sabine smiled, “So vambraces, pauldrons, and boots?” “And maybe also the very centerpiece? It would feel like a pendant.” Shin wasn’t quite sure if it was okay to want one; She felt like an outsider intruding on traditions. Sabine was quick to reassure her, “A lovely idea, baby. Armorer, can we make that happen?” “Of course, Lady Wren. Do you have any previous armor to reforge with the new beskar?” Sabine set down Kala’s shin guard, pauldron, and vambrace at the Armorer’s anvil. “Oh, and take this,” she said, removing her own centerpiece, “I’d like our centerpieces to be forged together.” “Excellent. I will have these forged by the end of day. Would you like any signets inlaid?” Shin answered, “no, I’d prefer if my riduur painted them on.” “Very well, Shin Hati, soon to be of Clan Wren. This is the way.” Another “this is the way” resounded in the Forge.

Having moved most of their belongings into their suite, Shin and Sabine collapsed onto their newly acquired couch in each other’s arms. Absentmindedly caressing her betrothed, Shin asked, “who are you inviting to the wedding?” “I dunno, probably just my family from the Ghost? It might be the first time we’re all in the same place since Lothal.” Shin was a tad confused, “didn’t I meet everyone on Home One?” “You didn’t get to meet my older brother Zeb, he was out on patrol. You were questioned by his husband tho.” “Oh, Kallus? He seemed ex-imperial.” “Yeah, he was ISB. But after an…incident on Geonosis, he fell in love with Zeb. Wouldn’t admit to it until years later, after he joined the rebellion.” Shin laughed a bit, “you really are like your family.” “Yeah, I guess I am.” After a pause, Sabine asked, “Hey, I know we’re doing a traditional Mandalorian wedding, but are there any of your culture’s wedding traditions you want to do?” Shin shrugged, “I was a child when Baylan started training me. I did eventually research a few traditions, but I couldn’t find much about marriage. Didn’t think I’d ever need it.” “You didn’t think you would get married?” “You know how temple Jedi are, no attachments, no romance, no sex. Didn’t think there were Jedi who wore love like that on their sleeve,” Shin paused, “until I met you.”

Three months after the Ignition

Ahsoka was laughing at what her padawan had just told her. “You know, the masters at the temple would never have approved…” “yeah but when have you ever thought the old masters were right?” Sabine and her master were sitting around the campfire they had lit outside Ahsoka’s Jedi Shuttle. Shin had gone inside to grab a drink. “I do wish I had the freedom you have. No need to sneak around with the other padawans.” Ahsoka reminisced about her misadventures in the Clone Wars, “one time I had to pose as someone’s betrothed. I was so bad at it, the only romances I knew were Holo-novels.” She sighed, “but you had actual role models in your life. Your parents loved each other, despite your strained relationship with them. Kanan and Hera were able to balance being a Jedi, running the rebellion, and being in love.” “Hang on, you said padawans?” Sabine asked in jest, “Plural?” “I did secretly kiss a few, but there was only one I ever caught feelings for.” Ahsoka remembered the time she shared with Barriss before the bombing. Shin approached the fire, 3 cups of caf in hand. “Just remember, you two. Sometimes our feelings guide us, and sometimes they control us.” Ahsoka reached for the guidance that Obi-Wan gave her years ago, “know the difference, keep your heads clear, and you’ll go far.”

One year after the Ignition

Sabine smiled at her beloved as she was putting on her new beskar’gam. The Armorer had kindly agreed to keep the finish matte for easy painting. Shin had wanted a mix of Wren Yellow with orange detailing to match her lightsaber. Sabine had repainted her pauldrons to match, a Jedi crest on one shoulder and a Starbird on the other. Shin’s body glove was intricately lined out with Mandalorian designs and the map to Peridea. As she put on Kala’s old helmet she remarked, “you know, I thought you were joking when you said the armor felt like a second skin and you sometimes slept in it, but I get it now. It’s so much more comfortable than durasteel.” Sabine’s pride was visible thru her helmet, “You’ll make an excellent Mandalorian, love. But we are definitely not sleeping in these tonight.”

As they approached the living waters, Din Djarin approach the two soon-to-weds. “The Armorer asked me to give these to you,” he was holding out two coins, “She didn’t have time to let them cool before she started prepping the wedding.” Shin took the two coins, one the bare silver of beskar inlaid with a mythosaur skull, the other a bronzed beskar alloy featuring a Jedi sigil. Sabine asked, “care to elaborate to us what these mean?” Shin answered, “apparently on my home planet, there’s a tradition of parents giving their daughter two coins on her wedding day.” Sabine smiled at her beloved, “Awww that’s so cute that you consider the Armorer a parental figure.” Then she turned to Djarin, who was walking away, “you’re now officially invited to the wedding. Your kid can come too!” The former bounty hunter turned around. “Uh…thanks. But isn’t the wedding in like 10 minutes?” “Yeah, so?” “Grogu is currently in class right now. So it’ll just be me.” “Well then we won’t have to hide the uj.” Legends of Grogu’s sweet tooth had already reached Sabine. Djarin began to follow them into the Mines of Mandalore.

Sabine couldn’t stop smiling as she walked thru the assembly. Hera, Zeb, and Kallus were in their New Republic dress uniforms. Ezra and and his new padawan Jacen were wearing traditional Jedi robes, while Ahsoka had managed to find her old Mandalorian flight suit (or maybe she just had a new one tailored). Shin had even managed to invite Beilert Valance, an old underworld contact from her mercenary days, and one of the few she would consider a friend. It was the only person in there wearing a Core-style tuxedo, no doubt from infiltrating high-society parties on the job. Djarin and every other Mandalorian present were wearing their helmets. Some of Sabine's old acquaintances from her academy days were there, as well as the last surviving Protector that she and Fenn Rau had trained years ago, Shysa Mereel. Mandalorian sigils hung all around and above them in the Mines like championship banners in a Chin-Bret arena. Above the living waters hung, not just a Mythosaur like most days, but also a Clan Wren Starbird. Sabine had managed to repaint it the previous night during a fit of sleeplessness, accenting the traditional yellow with her signature orange and purple. Perhaps Clan Wren will rise from ashes. 

Sabine and Shin stepped into the Living Waters, where the two most powerful Mandalorians were waiting for them. The Armorer began pouring water onto Kala’s—no, Shin’s helmet.

“Shin Hati, will you swear on your name and the names of the ancestors?” “I swear on my name, and the names of the ancestors”  “That you shall walk the way of the Mand’alor? “That I shall walk the way of the Mand’alor”  “And the words of the Creed shall be forever forged on your heart?” “And the words of the Creed shall be forever forged on my heart.” “This is the way.” “This is the way.”

The assembly resounded, “This is the way.” Bo-Katan then continued the marriage rite.

“Do you two name each other as wife?” “Ni kyr'tayl gai sa riduur, Shin Hati”  “Ni kyr'tayl gai sa riduur, Sabine Wren” 

Bo-Katan turned to the assembly, “Today I, Duchess Bo-Katan Kryze, and all you assembled here are witness to Shin Hati joining Clan Wren, by rite of marriage to Countess Sabine Wren. This is the way.” 

“This is the way”

No sooner had Sabine and Shin emerged from the Living Waters than Ezra nearly tackle Sabine back into the Waters with an enthusiastic embrace. “Congratulations sis, I always knew you would find the right person one day.” Then he turned and hugged Shin, “Welcome to the family.” Jacen came up and embraced Sabine. “So Aunt Sabine, did you tell her fun stories of you and mom doing cool rebel stuff together.” “Of course I did.” Ezra decided to put on the little brother act. “Shin, did Sabine tell you about the time I rescued her from a pack of wild frynocks?” “Um no?” “Or the time I rescued her from a pair of inquisitors?” A gruff voice behind Ezra spoke, “the way I remember it, I rescued both of you from them.” Zeb had approached the wedding couple, arm-in-arm with his husband. Kallus’ Coruscanti accent queried, “or the time I helped her infiltrate and escape an imperial pilot academy?” “Well that story she definitely told me.”

Sabine found her way over to Hera. “Your Mandalorian parents would be proud that you married in the traditional style.” “Hera, I’m not sure you knew my parents well enough to say that.” “You didn’t let me finish. Your Rebellion parents are proud of you for a very different reason: pulling a fast one on the authorities using a quick marriage is right out of Kanan’s playbook. He and I were illegally married 4 times in 3 different systems. And in my personal opinion, I’m glad you’re marrying someone you love.” After a laugh, she added, “Professionally, I cannot stress how disappointed I am in you abusing legal loopholes for personal gain.”

Valance approached the woman who invited him. “You know, in all my time in the Empire and the underworld, I’ve never been invited to a wedding that wasn’t a ploy of some kind.” Shin smiled, tho Valance couldn’t see. “Well my list of living friends and family is very short.” “What’s the deal with the helmets?” “Apparently the original Manda’lor never removed his helmet in front of others. Quite a few Mandalorians today follow in his footsteps.” Valance raised its only eyebrow, “so you’re not removing your helmet then? How does the wedding night work?” “No, Sabine and I will remove our helmets, just not in here, the sacred Mines of Mandalore.” She gestured to a moderately-sized banquet table in the back, “that’s why the wedding food is takeout only. But we’re having an afterparty at our apartment tonight, and you’re more than welcome to join us.” “Unfortunately I have to take off soon. Got a tip during the service about an old pirate captain.” The two shook hands. “Well, thanks for coming Beilert. Be sure to take a few slices of uj cake on your way out.” 

The afterparty was just as wonderful as the wedding. The Ghost crew and the Mandalorians swapped stories. Food was plentiful, and the beverages flowed even more. A few people tried changing the music from Sabine’s preferred rock, but the only one that was successful was her wife. Mandalorians from every clan managed stop by. Both Dins came thru early in the party, as Grogu had an earlier bedtime than the Wrens. Bo-Katan and the Armorer managed to actually get drunk and scratched some lewd Mando’a into the back of the refresher door. 

Sabine fired her blaster at the ceiling target to get the afterparty’s attention. “All right everyone, it’s getting late. Now if you want to stay the night, Shin and I have some spare bedrooms. BUT we’d like to be sleeping soon, so choose!” Hera was the first to reply, “I’ve got work to do, there’s some in-person generals’ meeting tomorrow.” “We’ve gotta go too, Alexs and I have our own vacation planned,” said Zeb before kissing his partner’s temple. “Ezra can we stay?” pleaded Jacen, “We have that new U-wing!” “Okay, but we’re gonna do some more Jedi training and exploring tomorrow.” Ezra was clearly just as excited to stay on Mandalore. “Yes!”

“So great, you invited you family to stay the night.” Shin was a touch annoyed with her wife. “Weren’t we gonna have some newlywed activities?” The overexaggerated wink made Sabine laugh. “Oh sorry riduur, did I not tell you?” Sabine feigned innocence, “Mandalorian bedrooms become soundproof and lightproof on command.” She flipped a switch, and all Sundari’s background noise went silent. Shin pushed her lover against the wall and started kissing. “Apology accepted.”

Mando’a Glossary:

beskar’uliik: literally “beskar transporter”, they have a dedicated vehicle to move lots of beskar at once

beskar’gam: Mandalorian armor

riduur: spouse, partner (Mando’a lacks gender)

uj: short for uj’alayi/uj cake, the best Mandalorian dessert

Ni kyr'tayl gai sa riduur: Mandalorian wedding vows, literally “I know your name as my spouse”, adapted from the Mandalorian adoption rite by “Runi”

[seriouslysam8]

Brumous Sneak Peek!!

This sneak peek is unedited.

Chapter Thirty-Eight: A Serpent’s Gifts

It was the second dueling club meeting of the year. Harry was still trying to find his footing and not muck everything up. Staring at Ginny Weasley really wasn’t the most professional thing to do, considering he was in charge of the event. Tearing his gaze away from Ginny, he saw Marlene standing off to the side with Professor McGonagall. They were chatting and just observing, allowing the student leaders to do their own thing. Harry tapped his wand against his thigh, wondering just how much practice time he should give them before they switched to the next spell.

“Fuck me, I need to switch groups,” Ron grumbled, suddenly at his side. “The Ravenclaws are telling me I’m holding my bloody wand wrong! Even after I showed them the bloody picture in the textbook, they tried to tell me it was an outdated edition. Those smug little fuckers. They were third years!”

Harry squinted up at Ron, sucking in a breath. “Yeah, why don’t you team up with the Hufflepuffs. They’re nonconfrontational, so they shouldn’t make you angry.”

Ron leaned down, his lips close to Harry’s ear. “You know, the hat told me I would do well in Hufflepuff and I told it to fuck the right off. Then it told me I was clearly a Weasley and put me in Gryffindor.”

Harry laughed, his face splitting into a wide grin. “Are you serious, right now?”

Ron merely shrugged before he dashed off to the group of third or fourth year Hufflepuffs in the corner of the room. Sucking in a breath, he turned towards the Ravenclaws that Ron had been helping. He supposed it was his duty to go help them if Ron wouldn’t.

Harry made it halfway across the room when a scream sounded. Harry whipped around to see a tiny Hufflepuff on the floor, sobbing her little heart out. Crimson poured between her fingertips, her palm pressed tightly against her arm. Harry swallowed, dashing off towards her at full speed. 

“Oops,” a cocky voice said.

Harry ignored the voice as he bent down in front of the girl. She must have been a first year because she looked so small. He placed a hand on her shoulder, something Sirius always did when he was upset, and leaned in close to her.

“What happened?” he asked.

“You motherfucker!” Demelza roared.

Harry’s head snapped to see Demelza pushing a rather burly Slytherin that he didn’t recognize. The boy barely moved, a cruel laugh escaping his lips. Harry was about ready to give him a piece of his mind when Ron stepped up to the kid, towering over him with his wand out.

“Mr Weasley!” Professor McGonagall shouted as she bustled over to the group. “Miss Robins! Mr Bulstrode!”

Harry turned his attention back to the small girl, forcing a smile on his lips. She was still sobbing, large tears pouring down her face.

“It hurts,” she said in a miserable tone.

Harry nodded. “Can I see?”

She shook her head, her wide and watery eyes staring up at him as though he had grown a second head.

“It was an accident!” a boy shouted angrily, whom Harry assumed was Bulstrode.

“Oh, yeah?” Demelza roared. “She’s bleeding you fucking prick!”

“Miss Robins!” McGonagall exclaimed.

A swoosh of red caught Harry’s attention as Ginny crouched on the other side of the small girl. Ginny knew exactly how to comfort the girl because she eased onto the floor next to her and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. Harry dropped his hand, watching the two of them intently.

“Hi, I’m Ginny,” she greeted before she gestured to Harry with her free hand. “That’s Harry. What’s your name?”

The girl sniffed. “Lucy.”

Ginny beamed. “Hi, Lucy. Professor McKinnon asked me to take you to the infirmary to get your arm looked at. She’ll be down in a few minutes after Bulstrode is dealt with. Is that okay? Harry can come too, if you want.”