#three years without a tag for the boys thanks for reminding me

[everybody-hit-the-pyro-cue]

hey (sneaks up behind you) how are abby and alex B-) didnt get to draw da boys this AF sadly :(

YOO HI ELLA!!!

holy shit was the last time i talked to you properly like. july 2022. damn what the fuck

ik i said it before but welcome to the blr!! we're all v chill down here the occasional tumblr holiday will come rolling around the calendar and we'll go apeshit for a while but generally just funky fuck all vibes :]]]

(the boys are doing fine btw. little bit of hair changes and me moving design bits around to accommodate for my changing art style?? but i'm glad you asked they're doing v well <3)

[keeryhours]

don’t say you love me - chapter one

Masterlist Series Masterlist Tag Lists

Eddie Munson x Hopper!reader, Billy Hargrove x Hopper!reader

Summary:

You get yourself into a situation with two guys you should have absolutely nothing to do with.

Warnings:

Smut (18+), unprotected and protected p in v, creampie, oral (f receiving), fingering, weed use, angst, pregnancy, love triangle

Word Count: 7.8k

A/N:

Thank you so much @feral4youu my love for the idea for this fic! Your mind never ceases to amaze me.

You loved your dad.

As far as parents go, he was the best you could ask for. Loving, kind, not too terribly strict despite being the police chief. And he really, truly did love you.

Your mother had always been distant. When she left the two of you with nothing but a note, it hadn’t even been that big of an adjustment. It had always been you and your dad, and as long as you had him, you knew things would be alright.

You’d always had the type of relationship where you felt you could tell him anything. He’d come home from a long day at work and sit in the recliner with his beer, happily listening to you tell him the latest gossip in your friend group. He would listen with full attention, every now and then a genuine reaction - raised eyebrows, “Tina did what? With Carol’s boyfriend?”

The only things he could be strict about were grades, and boys.

You weren’t allowed to date until you were 15. And even then, any guy who wanted to take you out had to go through such rigorous questioning, they felt it wasn’t worth the effort. You were popular - head cheerleader, friendly, friends with the right people, smart and head of your class, and beautiful, according to the Hawkins population. So it’s not like you had a shortage of guys willing to take you out.

But your dad was having none of that.

“You don’t understand,” your dad would say. “Men are dogs, sweetheart. You’re better off without ‘em.”

Things changed your senior year.

You properly met Eddie Munson, first of all. He was a Super Senior, on his second attempt. And it’s not like you didn’t know of him before - everyone in Hawkins knew of Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson. Most of your friends had been buying weed from him for years.

Eddie always flirted with you. He’d act like a total gentleman any time you were around, making space for you to walk, holding doors open for you, pulling your chair out when you sat down during class. When you’d go with Carol and Tina to buy, he’d single you out specifically, call you beautiful and make eye contact with only you.

���Think the Freak has a crush on you,” Carol laughed as the three of you left with your stash of weed.

“You think?” you asked with hope in your voice and butterflies in your stomach.

“Oh please, don’t tell me you’d consider it?” Tina said, her eyebrows raised.

“No, of course not,” you said. “I just…didn’t think he liked me like that.”

“He’s obsessed with you,” Carol said. “It’s obvious. He’s got a major hard-on for you.”

You blushed. “I don’t think-“

“Oh, he totally does,” Tina added. “So gross.”

“And you know Jason Carver has been into you for years-“ Carol said, but you cut her off.

“You know my dad doesn’t let me date,” you reminded her, mostly just to get off the subject of Jason.

“Which is so dumb,” Carol said. “Does he want you to die alone?”

“Probably,” you mumbled.

The next time you saw Eddie, you were both alone. You had been sitting out on the picnic table in the woods behind the school, wanting time alone. The sound of Eddie’s footsteps had startled you.

“Sorry,” Eddie said, a friendly smile on his face as he held his hands up. “Didn’t expect anyone to be out here.”

“Me either,” you said, putting your feet back on the ground to get up. “Sorry, I’ll just-“

“No, stay,” Eddie had said. “I could use the company.”

Eddie was easy to talk to. He was funny, he was nice, he made you feel comfortable. And when he ended up standing between your legs, his lips on yours and his hands gripping your bare thighs, well, you couldn’t say it was totally unexpected.

Eddie was your first, and you were his. But once you’d had sex, he was feral for it. You hooked up near constantly, any time he could pull you away without suspicion, he would.

You had been scared at first. You knew it would be a disaster if your dad found out. Not only were you not supposed to be doing anything with guys, but this was Eddie Munson. Your dad knew perfectly well what Eddie did for extra cash.

You had a few particularly close encounters. You always either rode the bus or got a ride from a friend home after school - your dad worked late and never had time to pick you up. So, you started spending your time with Eddie after practice.

“Fuck, baby,” Eddie panted from behind you. His hands gripped your hips tightly, light bruises appearing beneath his fingers. He didn’t even notice, too lost in his own pleasure he was chasing inside of you. “Always so tight. I’m gonna fuckin’ cum.”

“Please,” you gasped out. “I want you to.”

Eddie groaned, his hair tickling your back as his head dropped forward on his shoulders. His hips were rutting into you desperately, pumping his entire length into you. You could feel every ridge and vein of him - but you knew his shape by heart at this point.

He wrapped his arms around you and pulled your body flush against his own. He thrusted hard into you a few more times, then, with a cry of your name, he came, filling you deeply.

When he pulled out, he could see his cum dripping out of you. He watched with wide eyes, wanting nothing more than to dive back in, his cock already twitching back to life-

There was a banging on the side of the van.

“Munson!” your dad yelled. “I know you’re in there, and it better not be with my daughter.”

You both froze. “Fuck,” Eddie whispered, jumping into action and pulling his boxers and jeans back on. “Fuck!”

You pulled your dress back down, then searched all around you. “Eddie, where are my panties?”

“Oh, shit, sorry,” he said, a sheepish grin on his face as he pulled the thin lace material from the pocket of his jeans and handed them over. “Just thought I’d keep a souvenir.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t wipe the smile off your face as you put them back on. There was another loud banging and then Eddie threw open the back doors just as you straightened out the skirt of your dress.

Hopper looked into the vehicle, looking very pissed off. He said your name. “What are you doing in here?”

You wished you had thought of an excuse before this moment. “We have a project together.”

“Oh yeah?” Hopper didn’t sound like he believed you at all. “Where is it?”

Eddie met your eyes, like, you started this one, it’s on you. “We were just brainstorming. We just got it assigned today.”

Your dad sniffed the air- no doubt searching for the smell of weed. You just hoped he couldn’t smell the sex. When he didn’t recognize anything that set off alarms, he looked at you again. “Well, come on. I’m driving you home.”

You bid Eddie an awkward goodbye, then followed your dad to his car. You avoided looking at him as you buckled your seatbelt - you did just get your back blown out by Eddie in the back of his van, after all.

“Don’t hang out with him,” your dad said as he drove you home. “I’m serious. Anyone but him. Munson is trouble.”

“Dad, he’s not a bad guy-“

“Oh, come on,” he laughed. “I know what he does. And you’re too good to get involved in any of that. You have such a bright future, I don’t want to see it wasted on some loser.”

“Dad, Eddie is not a loser-“

“Sure,” he said. “But my point stands either way. Don’t waste time with him.”

You could still feel Eddie’s release between your thighs the whole way home.

Billy Hargrove came crashing into your life all on his own. He had come to Hawkins his senior year, taking over as the most popular guy in school. 

“He’s a fucking asshole,” Steve had said, slamming his locker shut to make the point. “Seriously. Stay far away from him.”

It seemed like that had always been a personal challenge for you.

You actually met Billy when he joined the basketball team. You spent a lot of time with the basketball guys, being head cheerleader. It was his first game with the team, and you had to admit, he impressed you. Billy was really good. Your eyes stayed glued to him the entire game, and he definitely noticed with the way he kept smirking in your direction every time he’d do something cool.

“I think Billy’s looking at you,” Chrissy leaned over and said with a huge grin on her face.

You found yourself smiling back. Sure you’d heard the rumors about Billy already, but it’s not like you needed him to fall in love with you. You were down to just have some fun.

Billy loved that about you. You caught his attention the first time he ever saw you, but once he realized you were down for no strings attached hookups? You became his favorite girl in town.

He approached you after that game as everyone was running to the showers. He was a smooth talker, that was for sure. He gave ladies man vibes the second you saw him, but hearing him talk, you could really see it. It didn’t take a lot of flirting before you were sneaking into the men’s locker room with him after everyone else had left, letting him undress you and then take you against the wall while the steam and heat surrounded you.

Billy couldn’t get enough of you once he’d had you. And once he found out you wanted to keep things secret because you were the police chief’s daughter? That made you even more irresistible.

“You’re hooking up with Billy?” Eddie said, like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Hargrove?”

“Um…yeah,” you’d said awkwardly, as Eddie was naked between your legs. He was kissing across your inner thighs, nearing where you needed him the most.

“Why?” he asked.

“Because I like him?” You sat up on your elbows, looking down at Eddie. “He’s not the worst guy ever like everyone says.”

“Only he is.” Eddie moved in and licked a stripe along your folds, making you gasp. “He’s a huge fucking asshole.”

“Well, I like him,” you defended as strongly as you could while Eddie was eating you out, groaning as he devoured you. He always knew how to get the last word of an argument.

“Why don’t you stop thinking about him and let me take care of you, baby?”

You were putting the last of your books away in your locker for the day when you felt a set of muscular arms wrap themselves around you, pulling you close into the owners’ firm body. Carol, Tina, and Chrissy gave you a mischievous look - it wasn’t hard to imagine who it was.

“Hey, baby,” Billy whispered into your ear. “What are y’doing?”

“Just getting ready to go home,” you said. “Carol’s driving me.”

Billy looked over at your friends as if noticing them for the first time. He gave them a wolfish grin before looking down at you. “Yeah, I think you’re gonna have a change of plans.”

“Oh yeah?” you laughed.

“Yeah,” he said again easily. “I think I’ll bring you home tonight.”

“Have fun, you two,” Carol said, then you watched as your friend group left you with nothing but a knowing look on each of their faces.

Billy was already kissing down your neck, his large hands sliding beneath the hem of your cheer skirt. “Need you so bad.”

You leaned back into his touch, nearly forgetting yourself and where you were. “Let’s go.”

You spotted Eddie on your way out, smoking a cigarette in the parking lot. You gave him a nod and he watched as you walked off towards the Camaro with Billy’s hand on your ass. For once, he thought it would be pretty funny if the police chief just so happened to be here.

Billy opened the passenger door for you, his hand trailing up your thigh as you slid into the seat. He was being needier than usual. Once he was seated himself, he started the car, his hand coming to rest on your bare thigh as he pulled out of the parking lot and sped off.

You always loved it when Billy drove with one hand like this. His fingers pushed up your skirt, playing with the hem of your panties. You were wet already, pushing down against him.

“Needy slut,” he hissed, although he was the one nearly begging for it. “Wait until I can get my hands on you.”

You expected him to take you to Lover’s Lake as usual, but instead he pulled up in front of his house. At least you assumed it was his house - a single story home with a screened in porch. No cars were outside. Billy had never taken you home before.

“Is this your place?” you asked him.

“Yeah,” he said. “But my dad and step mom went out of town for the weekend, so…we’re good.”

“What about your sister?”

“First of all, she’s not my sister,” he said. “And she’s staying with her friend. She won’t bother us.” He leaned over the seat towards you, placing a kiss on your lips. “We’ve got the place to ourselves all weekend. You could…even stay, if you wanted to.”

Billy was really asking you to spend the whole weekend with him? “Maybe.”

Billy smiled. He kissed you one more time, then the two of you climbed out of the Camaro. Billy unlocked the front door and you followed him inside. The inside of the house was much different than you expected. It hardly even looked like a family lived here. Billy’s weights were set up right off the living room with a tiny TV next to them. There was a closed bedroom behind it that you assumed was Max’s, then a hallway with more rooms to the right.

He dropped his denim jacket on the couch then opened the fridge and grabbed a beer, popping it open and taking a long drink. He was wearing a tight white t-shirt underneath the jacket, his even tighter jeans hugging his huge thighs. You could never say he wasn’t easy on the eyes.

He finished the beer and tossed it in the trash can, then turned to you. “D’you want anything? A beer, a soda, water…”

“I’m good,” you said. Billy smiled softly at you and then he spun you around, leading you down the short hall with his hand on your lower back. He opened the last door, revealing a bedroom that was definitely Billy’s, yet neater than you had been expecting.

His plaid bed sheets were tucked neatly, the bed made. There were no dirty clothes strewn across the floor. His cassettes and record collection were organized and put away. There weren’t even clothes poking out from his drawers. He had posters on his wall, Metallica you recognized, as well as some you didn’t know and some posters of girls.

Billy stepped around you, closing the door. “‘s not much,” he mumbled.

“It’s nice,” you smiled. He returned it.

“Now,” he said, “I’d like to see you on my bed.”

“Yeah?” you giggled as he wrapped his arms around you again, kissing all over your face and neck, down to what was exposed of your chest.

“Fuck yeah,” he said. His hands slid up your skirt again, grabbing your ass. He slapped it, making you gasp. 

“Billy!”

He groaned. “I can’t help myself, baby. Every time I get my hands on you, I can’t fucking help myself.”

He pushed your skirt down your legs so it pooled at your feet. You stepped out of it, kicking it away. Billy was already working on your cheer top, pulling it over your head.

His hands roamed your body, left in nothing but your bra and the tiniest pair of panties that left little to the imagination. Billy was losing his mind at the sight of them, his hands rubbing over your ass, up your sides and to your tits, nipping at your neck and chest.

“Gonna mark you up real good,” Billy grumbled against your skin. “Let Munson see what he missed out on.”

You playfully slapped at him- “Billy, don’t be an asshole.”

“What?” he asked innocently. “If I have to share, I can at least send you back with the proof of what I did to you.”

You gasped out a moan as he bit down particularly hard on your neck, sucking on the skin and running his tongue over the bite. “Fuck, I need you right now.”

Billy pushed you down onto his bed. You bounced slightly as you watched him watching you, eyes never leaving your body as he kicked off his shoes, tossed his shirt and worked his belt open. You were practically drooling as he revealed more of his incredible body to you. You had never been too concerned with muscles or build before, but Billy’s body was something else entirely. He was hot.

He was already rock hard as he undid his jeans and shoved them and his boxers down. He wrapped a large hand around his shaft, tip flushed red and glistening with precum. You could see his hand shuddering as he stroked himself, eyeing you like he could eat you alive.

“Fuck,” he whispered. He crawled over your body, pulling your panties down and tossing them anywhere. He placed his hands on your knees and slowly spread your legs, groaning as he finally saw your pussy, so wet and ready for him.

He made quick work of your bra, getting rid of that and immediately wrapping his lips around your nipple. You arched into him, bare pussy grinding against his cock, desperate for him to stop teasing and fuck you already.

“God, you’re such a needy little slut. And everyone thinks you’re this good girl.” He nuzzled against the side of your head, lips brushing your ear as he whispered. “What would your daddy think if he could see you like this? Desperate for my cock?”

“Billy,” you whined. “Please don’t talk about my dad right now.”

Billy chuckled, pulling back to drag his cock through your folds, teasing your hole every now and then. “I bet he thinks you’re off somewhere studying right now. Gonna get into a real good school, right? Following the rules, never lying…” His tip slipped inside and you gasped, fingers gripping onto his sheets. “Definitely not letting guys like me fuck you stupid.”

He sunk fully into you with a roll of his hips, his entire thick length splitting you open. He moaned as he began thrusting into you quickly, the sound of his skin meeting yours filling the room. You held tightly onto his shoulders.

“Billy,” you moaned, fingers threading through his mullet of dirty blonde curls. You pulled on them slightly - he always loved when you did that. This time it earned a stutter from his hips, a weak “H-oh,” from him.

Billy never liked to admit weakness, but he was weak for you. You knew all the right things to do, the places to touch, the things to say. What was he supposed to do?

He buried himself in you with every thrust, each one powerful and strong, rocking the mattress. He would never admit it to you, but he never fucked the other girls the way he fucked you. He loved to take his time with you, to feel every inch of you, to savor it. He loved fucking you slow, watching the cute faces you’d make every time he hit your g spot with the head of his cock. He just loved looking at you - especially when your face was twisted in pleasure he was giving you.

“Pretty, pretty girl,” he hummed, looking down at you. Your eyebrows were drawn together, cheeks flushed, the slightest bit of sweat across your forehead, lips parted. You looked so beautiful like this, he thought.

He grabbed onto your thighs and pushed them up, spreading you wider and giving himself a better view. He was able to get deeper like this, pound into you faster, and he took advantage of that.

“You feel how deep I’m in you?” he grunted, hand resting on your lower belly.

“M-mmhmm,” you attempted to hum in agreement, but then he was pushing down, groaning as he could feel the pressure against his cock, and you were- oh god-

“Billy,” you cried, “I’m gonna cum-“

“Yeah, shit, yeah, cum for me,” he panted, fucking you faster, his own release imminent. He hiked your leg up over his shoulder and leaned over your body, kissing you hard as he nearly bent you in half.

Your orgasm hit you, but every thrust of his cock was still hitting that spot and making it feel like it was lasting forever. You tried to tell Billy it was too much, but the way he was laying on you made it impossible. A few actual tears slipped from your eyes.

Billy noticed immediately. “Holy shit,” he said, and then he dropped his head into your neck and cried out as he came, pumping his load into you, thrusting in as deep as possible to make sure you got every drop.

His trembling body remained on top of you for a bit longer, then he rolled off, pulling out and laying down next to you. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close, nuzzling his face into your neck. Billy Hargrove was not a cuddler after sex - usually it was okay thanks, bye. But with you…he never wanted to let you go.

You didn’t question it. You weren’t sure you wanted to go down that path.

Billy played with your hair as you laid there. He thought - about you, mostly. Should he actually ask you out? He’s been playing this cool guy who only does hookups role for so long, he’s almost forgotten how to initiate a relationship. Did he want one? With you, yes. Absolutely. So why didn’t he just ask? It drove him crazy that he knew you still slept with Munson. He had stopped sleeping with other girls. Sure, he hadn’t exactly told you that yet, because wouldn’t that make it too real? Would you even like that? Or would it scare you right back into Eddie’s arms? But if there’s one thing Billy knew, it’s how he felt about you.

You liked Billy. You really did. But could you even be together if you wanted to be? Your dad certainly knew of Billy, too. He’s just as high on the stay away list as Eddie.

But you let Billy cuddle you. You let him twirl your hair, trace your skin with his fingers, pepper your body in kisses and affection, whisper sweet nothings in your ear. 

Maybe it was wrong of you. Maybe you just wanted to feel loved. Maybe you really could love him back. Or maybe you never would.

You spent that weekend with Billy, with a promise to your dad that you were at Chrissy’s. You felt horrible lying to him, but there’s no way he would have let you stay otherwise. The thought was laughable.

You had never lied to your dad before this year. It felt horrible, like grime stuck to your skin you could never wash away. And to lie so you could sleep with guys? Who even were you becoming?

You didn’t dwell on that thought for the weekend. You allowed yourself to be spoiled by Billy - you fucked, you watched movies, fucked some more, cooked together, slept in bed cuddled together, fucked again. When you finally left Sunday evening, Billy had a perfectly sated smile on his face, leaning against his bedroom door in nothing but a pair of boxers, smoking a cigarette as you packed your stuff.

You heard the door open as you were zipping up your bag, then- “Ew, gross.”

You smiled as Billy scrambled to throw some sweats on. “Hey, Max.”

“Hey,” she greeted you. She always liked you, the times you’d been in the car while Billy drove her home or to the arcade. At least you were nice and didn’t totally ignore her.

“You sure you don’t want me to take you home?” Billy asked gently as you headed for the front door with your cheer bag. His hand rested on your cheek, looking into your eyes like you held the secrets of the universe there. “I don’t like you walking alone.”

“That would kind of give away the lie,” you said, with a forced playfulness. You didn’t exactly want to walk all the way home either, but you weren’t going to pull up at home in Billy Hargrove’s Camaro.

“Let me at least take you part way,” he said. “It’s a long walk.”

Eventually, you agreed to that. Billy put a shirt on and escorted you out to the car. He drove you most of the way home, stopping half a mile from your cabin. “You sure you’re good from here?”

“Yes, Billy,” you said. You were already climbing out of the car with your bag slung over your shoulder. “Thank you. For everything. I’ll see you around.”

“Yeah,” he said. “See you.”

Billy watched you walk as far as he could see, then found a spot to turn around and go back to his own house. He knew he needed to be there before his dad and Susan got home.

When you saw your dad was already at home, you breathed a sigh of relief that you hadn’t let Billy drive you all the way. You knew it was unlikely, but it was still a possibility. You walked up the front steps and let yourself inside.

Hopper looked up as you walked in, a smile on his face. “Well if it isn’t my beautiful daughter I never see. How was Chrissy’s?”

He didn’t sound suspicious at all, which was a good thing, but only made you feel a million times worse. “Good. We had fun.”

“Good,” he said. He took another sip from his beer. A pause. “That Munson boy called for you again.”

You almost rolled your eyes. You had told Eddie time and time again that you would call him. “Oh yeah? Probably just about the project.”

Your dad hummed. “You know I don’t want you spendin’ time with him-“

“-anymore than I have to, yeah I know,” you said. You tried not to let visions of things you and Eddie had already done flash through your mind, but you were powerless to stop it.

“He’s bad news, honey,” he said. “We’ve had him in the station a lot. Him and that…new Hargrove boy.”

Your cheeks flushed. Of course your two hookups were the entirety of the list. “I won’t, dad. I hardly even know them.”

“Let’s keep it that way,” he said. “You’re a good girl. You’re not dumb. Don’t do something dumb.”

“Where were you all weekend?”

Eddie’s voice purred in your ear as he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close into his lean body. You giggled, letting him hold you, touch you.

“Billy’s,” you said, like it was nothing.

Eddie froze. “You were at Hargrove’s all weekend?”

“Well, yeah,” you said, turning around in Eddie’s arms. “His parents were gone for the weekend, so he asked me to stay over.”

Eddie was looking at you with his brows furrowed. “That’s serious.”

“No it’s not,” you said dismissively, waving that idea off. “He just wanted to get laid all weekend.”

“I’m telling you,” Eddie said, looking at you seriously. “It is. If Hargrove asked you to play house with him all weekend, it’s because he feels something for you. More than just sex.”

“Eddie, do we have to do this right now?” You played with the curls at the bottom of his neck, the ones that always drove him crazy. Eddie groaned, the fight leaving his body.

“Jus’ don’t want you forgettin’ about me,” he mumbled.

Your heart sunk. “Eddie, that’s not gonna happen.”

Much like Billy, Eddie also had constant thoughts of why he didn’t just ask you out. You were everything he wanted. The only thing he wanted. He didn’t look at other girls at all. He knew the thing with your dad would be an obstacle, but it didn’t have to mean there couldn’t be anything, right?

And he thought you liked him, too. That was until Billy came into the picture. Before Billy, you and Eddie just hooked up with each other, no one else. It was just a few words away from being official - at least that’s how Eddie saw it. When he learned you had started sleeping with Billy, he had to pretend to be a lot less phased than he was.

Because he had been hurt.

“What if Billy asks you out, huh?” Eddie asked. “What would you do?”

You looked up into Eddie’s big brown eyes. “Why haven’t you asked me out?”

Eddie didn’t know what to say to that. His lips parted, but no sound came. Before he could think about it too much, you connected your lips to his. Any thoughts that had been in his head swiftly left as he felt your tongue prodding against his bottom lip.

“Take me somewhere,” you whispered, and Eddie’s grip tightened on you like he was scared you’d drift away.

“Let’s go to my van,” he said.

You and Eddie practically ran out of the school hand in hand, giggling as you sprinted for his van. You got some strange looks from other students - even your friends didn’t understand your weird flip-flopping between Eddie and Billy - but you didn’t care. You never had. And you were well liked enough that no one was going to go tattling to your dad.

Eddie started up the van and drove off. He could and would have fucked you right there in the school parking lot where everyone could see the van rocking as he pounded into you, but he thought you deserved more than that.

So Lover’s Lake it was.

He pulled to a stop in front of the familiar lake, killing the engine. He nodded back towards the back, and you didn’t have to be told twice before you were climbing between the seats and to the large open space behind them. Eddie was right behind you, and then he was all over you.

He felt every inch of your body, like he couldn’t get enough of touching you. You kissed frantically, hands and lips everywhere. Eddie groaned, his pants even tighter than how they began. He shuddered when you ran your hand over the bulge in his jeans.

“Please,” he gasped. “Need you.”

Eddie could be dominant, but for the most part he was much more submissive than Billy. He had no problem begging, or letting you take control. Billy was different. He liked pushing you down, taking what he felt belonged to him. Eddie was all sweet touches and pleading and looking up at you with his doe eyes while he begged to cum.

You began undoing his belt and jeans while Eddie’s hand slipped beneath your dress. He stroked you over your panties, feeling the material soaked from your arousal. Nothing got Eddie off like seeing how badly you wanted him.

Just as you shoved his jeans and boxers down enough to free his cock, Eddie pulled away from you, pushing you back and making you gasp as he dove in between your legs. He buried his face against your cunt, breathing in your scent, nose pressed against the wet material of your thin panties. You gasped again when his tongue came out and licked you over the fabric.

“Need to taste you,” he begged. “You’re so fuckin’ sweet. Can’t resist this pussy.”

You whined. “Please.”

Eddie didn’t need to hear anything else. He slipped his ringed fingers beneath the waist of your panties and pulled them down, wasting not a single second before he was burying his face in your bare pussy. His long tongue licked along your folds, then he really dove in, two fingers slipping inside of you until you could feel the metal of his rings against your skin.

He thrusted his fingers as he worked that talented tongue over your clit, making your head absolutely spin as you writhed on the messy floor of his van. But how many times had he fucked you back here already? Eddie had fucked you lots of places, to be fair.

“Eddie, I’m- oh!” 

You cried as he sucked hard, your thighs trembling around his head, fingers tangling in his curls. You pulled on his hair, making him moan against your pussy. He was thrusting against the blanket beneath you, his dripping cock rubbing against the material providing some kind of relief.

He just needed you to cum for him, at least once. He didn’t think he could survive without it, didn’t want to cum inside you without the taste of your own release still on his tongue.

You were going to give him exactly what he wanted. You could feel it building deep in your belly, your chest heaving faster with the speed of your breaths. He sped up the pace of his fingers, his tongue working over you exactly the way he remembered you loved.

“Eddie!”

Eddie groaned as you tightened around his fingers, cumming all over his hand and mouth. He fucked you faster through your release, until you were covering your face and telling him to stop. When you couldn’t take anymore, he pulled back and placed a final kiss against your clit.

“Always taste so good,” he said with a wicked grin, like he’d gladly do it all over again. If he knew how Billy had made you cum so hard you cried, he would take it as a personal challenge.

He kissed you, pushing your dress up your body. You could fully taste yourself on his tongue, and it excited you. The first time Eddie had kissed you after going down on you, you weren’t sure you liked it - but it grew on you. He slipped your dress off over your head and threw it to the side.

“You’re the most beautiful girl in the world, you know that?” he asked quietly as he nuzzled between your tits, kissing over every bit of exposed skin he could get to.

“That’s not true,” you said, like the natural reaction to being called beautiful was to shut it down as soon as possible.

“But it is,” he said. He looked down, then back up. “Do you see what you do t’me?”

“That’s not that hard to do,” you teased, and Eddie smiled.

“To this level, yeah, pretty hard to do.” He kissed you. “I only get this hard for you.”

“How romantic,” you giggled. Your laugh turned into a gasp when he bit down on your neck, covering a hickey Billy had left over the weekend.

“I can be romantic, if that’s what you want,” he said. “I just thought you liked getting fucked like a whore.”

“I do,” you said quickly. “I like both.”

Eddie smirked down at you. “I could be slow and gentle sometimes too, y’know.”

“I like when you fuck me,” you pouted.

Eddie chuckled. “I like fucking you too. I just, I don’t know…sometimes I wanna take it slow. Really look at you. Really feel you.”

Your heart was beating faster. “Yeah?”

Eddie was kissing across your chest now. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “Can I do that?”

You thought about it. It seemed like it was awfully close to catching feelings, which you had promised yourself you wouldn’t do, for either of them. But the way Eddie made your heart beat, the way you wanted him to make love to you, wanted him to love you-

“Okay,” you said. “Just this once.”

Eddie smiled. He unhooked your bra and let you pull his t-shirt over his head. He kissed all over your body, taking his sweet time working his hips back between your legs.

“Don’t wanna use a condom,” he mumbled. “I wanna feel you. All of you.”

“You don’t have to,” you said. “I’m on birth control, you know that.”

Eddie knew that very well. He was paranoid about the consequences, though - usually he used a condom every time anyway, just to be safe. But sometimes…

“No fucking condom,” he said. He kissed you hard again as he lined himself up at your entrance, pushing just barely inside. He sunk into you with a slow roll of his hips, your body turning to pure electricity as you felt every single inch of him inside of you.

He was slowly grinding his hips into you, carefully thrusting at a pace slower than he’d ever used. It took everything in him not to pound you into the floor, but he was loving the feeling of savoring your body. He could really feel every inch of your velvety walls, the way you clenched around him, holding his cock tightly within your warmth.

“You’re perfect,” he murmured, whispering right in your ear as he made love to you. “Feel so fuckin’ good. Always so tight for me, like your body was made for me. Only me.”

Eddie always got a little possessive, especially if he knew you had recently been with Billy. He would never say it, but it was obvious that it drove him crazy. He needed to claim you for his own.

Eddie’s lithe body rolled as he pressed his cock into you over and over, holding your body close to his. You could feel his heart beating against your own chest, and you wondered if he could feel yours, too. Eddie kissed your neck as he fucked you, covering every mark Billy had made.

He reached in between your bodies and rubbed against your clit. You whimpered, something had already been building just from the feeling of the way he was fucking you, taking you apart.

“Eddie,” you whined, “I’m…I’m gonna cum again.”

He groaned. “Yeah, baby, I want you to. Got to taste your cum on my tongue, now I wanna feel you make a mess on my cock.”

You whimpered again as Eddie began to lose himself, his hips speeding up back to a normal pace for him. His hips were snapping against yours, his moans becoming shaky and weak. You were throbbing around him as your orgasm built and built.

When it snapped, your mouth dropped open in a wide O, your nails digging into Eddie’s back and scratching down his skin, leaving bright red marks. You cried out his name again and again like a prayer, and the feeling of your pussy clenching around him combined with the look on your face pushed Eddie over the edge.

He came hard inside of you, grunting your name until it turned into more of a whine, a plead. He shook as he held onto you - Eddie always came so hard, so much. You could feel him filling you, feel the way he came so much it was dripping out from around him.

When he pulled out, he inhaled sharply, eyes glued to the mess he left behind. His favorite part, the part he didn’t get to enjoy when he used a condom. This was worth the risk.

“Fuck, look at you,” he remarked. “That’s so fuckin’ filthy.” His eyes remained glued to you, taking in the view, until a lightbulb went off in his head. “Shit, wait! Don’t move.”

You watched him curiously as he reached under his seat. He came back out holding a polaroid camera - and your eyes widened.

“I got it for us,” he said sheepishly. “Can I…?”

“You want to take a picture?” you asked, incredulous.

“Well, yeah,” he laughed. “I’ll be looking at this one every night.”

You weren’t sure how comfortable you were with this exactly, but he seemed so excited, you didn’t want to tell him no. “Okay. Just don’t get my face in it.”

“You got it.” Eddie moved back between your legs and lifted the camera to his face. He lined up the shot and took the photo. When it came out of the bottom of the camera, he held it up, waiting for it to develop. You knew it had when a wolfish grin spread across his features - “Oh, that’s a good one.” He looked up at you. “Do you wanna see?”

“I’m good,” you said, scrunching your nose up. You weren’t sure if you wanted to see yourself in that way - he could keep that to himself. He certainly seemed to love it, though, the way he kept staring at the image.

“Gonna cherish this,” he said with a smile. He stuffed the photo in the back pocket of his jeans. He grabbed a towel from the floor and cleaned you up with it, then handed you your clothes. You both redressed in a comfortable silence - you’d been here many times before.

“What do you want to do now?” Eddie asked. He pulled a cigarette from his pack. “I don’t really want you to go.”

You shrugged. “What do you think?”

Eddie lit the cigarette and brought it to his lips, taking a long drag. “We could smoke,” he offered. “We could make out. We could go back to my place and listen to music, smoke, and make out.”

You laughed. “Alright. Your place it is.”

It took you too long to realize something was wrong.

Being on birth control, you didn’t always get your period - so that didn’t set off any alarm bells for you at first. It was when you started getting sick after breakfast, when your clothes felt like sandpaper against your boobs, when you had to pee 50 million times a night. That’s when you got scared.

“What’s wrong with you?” a wide-eyed Tina asked at school when you showed up dressed in a hoodie and sweatpants, hood pulled over your disheveled hair and dark circles beneath your eyes. “You look like shit. Like actually.”

“Yeah, are you okay?” Carol asked. She put the back of her hand against your forehead.

“I’m pregnant,” you said.

The girls froze.

“…What?” Carol asked, sure she hadn’t heard what she’d just heard. Her, Tina, and Chrissy leaned in. “Say that again.”

“I don’t know for sure, but-“

“No, say what you just said again,” Tina said. “You know, the thing you said just a minute ago.”

You looked up, willing the tears brewing in your eyes not to fall. “I’m pregnant. I think.”

The girls just blinked at you.

“Did you take a test?” Chrissy finally asked.

“No,” you said. “I haven’t…I’ve been scared.”

“Well, don’t just go around telling people you’re pregnant when you don’t even know,” Tina said.

“Oh my god,” Carol said, shoving her books back into her locker. “Come on. Let’s go.”

Carol led the way out of school. No one stopped the four of you as you walked out with confidence, like you were exactly where you were supposed to be. No one ever questioned the four of you.

Carol drove you all to the pharmacy. You had a whole entourage with you as you went inside, picking up one of the results in 30 minutes! tests. Minutes later you were shut in your downstairs bathroom, grateful your dad had such a set work schedule, and taking the test while the girls bickered outside.

“If she’s pregnant, I’m the godmother-“

“No, she would pick me, we’ve been friends longer-“

“Yeah, but she likes me best, so-“

The chatter stopped when you walked out. Your friends looked at you with concern. “30 minutes,” you said, as if that wasn’t a potential death sentence.

They tried their best to keep you entertained and your mind off things as you waited the 30 minutes, but it didn’t work. The seconds ticked by like hours.

When the 30 minutes were up, each of your friends squeezed your hand, offering their silent support as you went inside to see the results. You looked down, and, sure enough- blue. Positive.

You choked out a sob. The girls rushed to your side, looking down at the results and then pulling you into a group hug.

“Oh, honey,” Carol said, stroking your hair. “It’s gonna be okay.”

“You’re not in this alone,” Chrissy said. “We promise. You have us.”

“Do you…” Tina began awkwardly, like she knew she shouldn’t ask what she was about to but couldn’t help herself. “Do you know who the dad is?”

It occurred to everyone at that exact moment. No. You didn’t.

Something broke inside and the tears began flowing freely. You covered your face as choked sobs escaped your lungs - you were scared.

The girls did their best to calm you, to assure you everything would be okay, but you didn’t believe them. This was a fucking disaster. A baby, and no idea who the father was. There were two very possible options.

And what the fuck happened to your birth control? Useless, apparently.

The girls stayed with you all day. No one cared about skipping school, even though it was the first time you’d really done it. By the time the school day was over, you had come up with somewhat of a plan.

“Can you take me to Billy’s?” you pleaded with Carol.

She raised her brows. “You want to tell him? Now?”

“Yes,” you said. “I just…he’s…you know how Billy is.” You twisted one of your rings around your finger. “He…gets upset. So I just want to get it over with. I don’t want him to find out through a rumor or something.”

“We’re not gonna tell,” Carol said. Her eyes darted over to where Tina stood across the room. “Well, I’m not gonna tell. But yeah, I’ll drive you.”

You insisted Carol drop off Tina and Chrissy before taking you to Billy’s. The nerves were in place, and you admitted you were putting it off. Once the girls were gone and Carol’s car idled in front of the Hargrove residence, you just stared at the front door. Billy’s car was here - he was home. You didn’t see any other cars.

“You sure you want to do this today?” Carol asked, her face full of concern. “You don’t have to. You can wait.”

“There’s no point,” you shrugged. “He has to find out. I might as well…get it over with.”

Carol watched as you got out of the car and walked the sidewalk to the porch. You’d only been here the one time before, but you knew you were at the right place. You raised your fist - and let it hover over the door. You stood there - god, what would you even say? Would Billy be pissed? Would he blow up? Would he do something?

Your hand came down against the door.

as always, comments & reblogs are so appreciated!!

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[seresinhangmanjake]

What if feyd's wife brought up the idea of having another child? How will he react? I loved his boy and all of your fics btw. You're a great writer!!!

Feyd-Rautha x wife!reader

Summary: You want another baby, but after what happened with your first pregnancy and birth, Feyd is hesitant. 

Warnings/Notes: Thank you for your kind comments, anon. I hope you like this! Mentions of smutty stuff but not anything extreme. I'm still gonna go with 18+ though. I don't think there's anything else. Typos, I'm sure. This is also part of the His series, but you don't have to read it first.

Words: 1400

Feyd-Rautha Masterlist / Main Masterlist / Tag list

Your bottom lip is worn raw. You’ve spent three hours nibbling on the delicate skin as you stare at the ceiling, waiting for the sun to rise. When it finally does, your little boy stirs in the bed between you and Feyd—nightmares, poor thing—but he quickly settles back into sleep, his lips parted with light snores. 

Iron seeps onto your tongue. Swiping your finger over your mouth, it pulls back coated in red. “Wonderful,” you mutter.

“What did you do?” Your husband asks, making you gasp and shoot up in bed. He chuckles, his brow drawing close at your skittishness. Careful not to disturb Fionn, he pulls back the covers and walks over to your side. His palm cups your chin. His thumb runs over your lip, collecting a droplet before sticking it in his mouth with a wicked grin that makes you playfully roll your eyes. “Morning,” he says, leaning in to kiss you. 

You press a peck to his lips. “Morning.”

“That’s all I get?” 

You debate not doing this, not dragging down another morning, but you can’t help it. It's an impulse at this point. Unable to be contained. 

“I want to talk about it,” you say.

Feyd’s features solidify into stone and he straightens his spine. “We already talked about it,” he replies before turning for the bathroom. You hop up and follow after him, closing the door behind you as Feyd twists a knob so water can cascade into the deep tub. 

“I want to talk about it again.” Ignoring you, he puts his hand under the water to test its warmth. “I’m not going to let it go.”

“No, you’re not, are you.”

“You honestly don’t want another one?”

“What I want is my wife alive,” he says as he strips off his silken sleep pants. “I already had to watch you die once.”

“I didn’t die.”

Feyd’s chest inflates. He’s been holding in an explosion for days and you don’t know how long he can manage that. “Fionn won’t be up for hours,” he says, getting into the tub and finding a comfortable position. “Come join me.”

“Feyd–”

“Clothes off.”

You sigh and slide the straps of your nightgown down your shoulders until it falls to your feet. With your hand in Feyd’s, you step into the pool of heated water and get cozy with your back to his chest. You lean your head against his shoulder as he takes hold of both of your hands, his fingers playing with yours. 

“I didn’t die,” you remind him, keeping a softness to your voice. You tilt your chin back and plant a kiss on his jawline to ease the truth of your argument so it doesn’t induce a bout of rage. You’re good at that, after years of dealing with his fits. 

“I thought you did,” he says. “For a moment, I felt it as if you did.”

“I know, but–”

“What if it were me?” he says, and your heart leaps into your throat at the suggestion. “Would you want me doing something again that almost killed me the first time?”

That's not exactly fair, and you want so desperately to spit those words right back at him. It’s not as if you haven’t had to catch your breath once or twice when he goes up against a prisoner who has not yet lost the skills that came from years of training on their home planet. You’ve cleaned up a few nicks on your husband’s skin from a blade, and yet, he continues to fight without you saying a word about it. Even if it went against your wishes, he would continue. 

“I watch you in the arena all the time,” you tell him.

“That’s not the same. You know I’m going to survive,” he says, and you hate that you can’t argue his point because you do know that. He’s too skilled. The nearest he’s come to serious harm—harm that would not have even come close to resulting in his death—was against an Atreides. And while it was a harder fought duel, there was nothing sloppy about it. Feyd still ended the life of that man with the beautiful maneuvers of a practiced warrior.

Reaching for the last bit of logic you can, you say, “You don’t know that I won’t survive.”

Your husband groans, a rumble that vibrates against your back. “I don’t know that you will,” he says. “Don’t you understand that? I need you. Fionn needs you.”

“Feyd–”

“I love you and you would dare to leave me. You’re fighting me on this for the second time now.”

You swallow hard, trying to remove the lump in your throat, before you twist your body so you’re facing him. The water sloshes over the edge of the tub as your legs straddle his hips, but neither of you give the mess and ounce of attention. Your fingers weave at the back of his neck. 

“I’m not leaving you,” you tell him. “I’m not leaving Fionn. I just want to bring more into our lives.”

“We don’t need more,” he says. “I don’t want more.”

His words poke a needle through your chest and into pumping organ behind your ribcage. “At all? You’ve never imagined it? A brother for Fionn? A little girl you could train to be as strong as you?”

Feyd’s eyes fall from yours. His fingers tighten at your waist. “Stop it,” he demands, and by the way he continues to avoid your stare you suddenly see that he has, in fact, thought about it; that it has been considered. All this time, you’ve assumed he brushed off the idea without so much as bothering to picture what another child would be like for your little family. But no. You were wrong. And you wonder what images of that future he’s conjured up in that mind of his. What scenarios he’s denied the possibility of simply because he is scared. 

“You have imagined it.”

Feyd huffs. “So what?”

“What’s it like?”

“Without you?” he asks. “Miserable.”

“And with me?”

Your husband takes a deep breath that exhales as a slow but heavy stream of air through his nose. “I told you to stop.”

“I can’t.” You press your forehead into his. His arms wrap around your waist and pull you in closer. “Feyd, I can’t. Can’t we just try?”

Feyd leans back and looks up at you, examining your features with an intensity that suggests he doesn’t already know the shapes and planes of your face by memory. It brings forth a blush that heats your cheeks; a blush he’s always able to work out of you, one way or another, even after nearly seven years together. It makes you want to make your baby right now, and if he agreed, and if your son was not sleeping just in the other room, you would. You’d touch him and harden him and slide down onto him, writhing and shifting your hips until he was groaning and filling you. 

“Please,” you whisper. Your hands plant on his cheeks. Your thumbs run across the sharp edges of his cheekbones and you move in to capture his lips in a kiss that then travels to his jaw, his neck, his shoulder. “Please,” you say between more kisses. You say it again, punctuating the word with a little nibble on his collarbone. 

Feyd shifts underneath you. You can feel him grow thicker against your core. With a suck in of air, he pushes your hips down harder onto his lap, but then he holds you still. And it’s for the best. You weren’t trying to start something anyway, not here, not now. 

“We’ll talk to the doctor,” he says as you rest your head into the crook of his neck. Relief floods your whole body. “But if he says no, then it���s not happening. And if he says yes but then something happens to you, I’m killing him, so you should be prepared for that.”

“Nothing is going to happen to me,” you swear to him. And you do believe that, genuinely, in your heart of hearts. “And I’m always prepared for you to end someone's life. I wouldn't have married you if I thought you'd be any different.”

Feyd almost chuckles. “You didn't have a choice in marrying me.”

“Yes, but I wanted to marry you anyway,” you tell him. “Murder and all.”

---

A/N: thank you for reading. Let me know what you think. If you have any ideas or thoughts on the His series, I am open for requests.

[pulisicsgirl]

i feared the worst - mason mount

summary: when Mason is injured on the pitch using a match, it leaves Y/N shaken and in need of a bit of comfort

pairing: Mason Mount x reader

word count: 2.7k

warnings/tags: descriptions of an injury, mentions of blood, physio!reader, secret relationship, hurt/comfort, the reader winds up crying bc when am I not having her cry fr, Mase is ultra soft and gentle in this one

A/N: surprise fic!!!! I’ve had this one half written for several weeks now, and I actually started it long before Mason got had his head injury 😓 so I’m only writing fics about Mason being happy and well and falling in love with me from here on out haha But please know that this is not based on his actual head injury, so many of the details are very different. But on a real note, thank you all for being so patient with me while I struggle to get fics out. This year has been a bit rough on the writing side, but please know that I’m endlessly thankful for each and every one of you 🤍

The moment Mason’s head collided with the other player’s knee, you swear you felt your heart stop dead in your chest.

It had been a rough game thus far, 65 minutes having passed without a goal on either side of the pitch, though there had been numerous chances for both teams. As the end of the game drew nearer, the intensity mounted, higher and higher. You had been watching nervously from the physio bench, biting your fingers nervously— with the way these boys were playing, it was only a matter of time before something really ugly happened.

And no sooner had you finished the thought before you watched as Mason was pushed off-balance as he and two of his opponents went for a ball in the air. One player knocked him from behind, sending Mason falling forward straight into the upswinging knee of the opponent in from of him.

It was like the entire world faded away, a gasp falling over the crowd before the screaming and whistling coming from the stands suddenly became silent in your ears. Your entire body went cold as you watched Mason’s body land roughly on the grass, laying on his side with his back turned to you as he went still.

You were on your feet in an instant, ready to run to his side when your manager, James, took hold of your elbow, standing at your side. A reminder of the guidelines of your job— you couldn’t be on the pitch until the referee waved for you to do so.

Those moments were some of the longest you had ever experienced, watching as the ref continued observing the play, his back turned to Mason’s slumped form as a couple United players ran to kneel at his side. Somehow, he had missed the collision— though you weren’t sure how as it had been anything but subtle.

Thankfully the opponent, realizing the severity of the knock against Mason, kicked the ball out of bounds and waved the ref toward the spot where two or three players huddled around him.

You could feel yourself bouncing on your toes, waiting for the signal, your fingers twitching in anticipation. James squeezed your elbow in silent understanding of your impatience.

Your heart was in your throat, and you could hear it beating in your ears. It nearly felt like slow-motion as the ref blew his whistle, turning to the sideline to wave you onto the field.

In an instant your feet were moving, carrying you across the pitch and you made it to Mason’s side first, James following a few seconds later. The boys that surrounded him took a few steps back to allow you space to work as you dropped the duffel bag by Mason’s head. Only Rasmus remained on the ground next to you, holding onto Mason’s leg as a show of support without crowding you too much. You placed a hand on Mason’s shoulder, gently encouraging him to roll onto his back.

The first sight of bright red blood on his skin had your stomach sinking to the floor.

Laying on his back, Mason drew his hand away from his face, his eyes widening slightly when he spotted the blood on his fingers. You whispered a soft “you’re okay, don’t worry,” to him as you grabbed a packet of gauze from your bag, placing it over the site of the bleed.

The gears in your head began spinning almost immediately, giving Mason’s entire body a look over. His head seemed to be the only site of injury, thankfully, and you begin assessing him for any sign of a concussion. You wiped at his forehead to get a better look—it was a relatively small cut, not too deep at all. But it was a heavy bleeder because of where it was located, making it look much worse than it truly was. The realization caused you to blow out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding.

You cleaned him up as best you could while still out on the pitch, trying to silently reassure Mason as best you could. You could see the slight panic in his eyes, but your heart clenched in your chest as you watched that panic settle slightly when he curled a fist around the fabric of your jacket, grounding himself.

Before too long, James was helping you sit Mason upright, wrapping a bandage around Mason’s head—just enough to hold it in place while you helped him off the field, since he would have to be subbed off.

“How’re you feeling Mase? You alright?” James asked over the roar of the crowd, checking in with him.

“I feel about like I’ve just taken a knee to the face,” Mason replied, blowing out a breath as he laughed. James laughed with him, and you felt a slight wave of relief wash over you at the fact that Mason was already joking, back to his normal self.

Helping him slowly to his feet, you draped his arms over your and James’ shoulders as the two of you helped him walk slowly off the pitch. Your heart swelled with pride as the stadium applauded him, and you knew the gesture meant a great deal to Mason as you led him down the tunnel back into the locker rooms.

“I can take care of him back here, if you want to head back out with the rest of the team,” you told James once the two of you had gotten Mason settled on one of the beds in the physio room.

“You’re sure?”

“Yeah, of course,” you smiled at him, collecting Mason’s file from the cabinet along with the supplies you’d need to bandage him up. “With the way they’re playing out there, they’ll need you again in no time.”

James laughed, nodding in agreement. “You’re probably right,” he chuckled, dropping a hand on Mason’s shoulder. “Really glad you’re alright, mate. That looked like a really nasty hit you took.”

Mason thanked James, bidding him goodbye as you turned to the cabinets to gather supplies— gauze, tape, bandages, some solution to clean the rest of his face, a bowl of warm water.

Without a word, you turned back to Mason, laying your supplies out on the small tray you had to the side of his bed. Mason watched in silence as you opened the packaging of the various things you had collected and put on a fresh pair of gloves.

There was an odd tension in the air as you sat down on the stool next to his bed and unwrapped the bandage around his head. Mason had never seen you look so serious in all the time he had known you, and it left an uneasy feeling settling in his tummy that he didn’t like. He watched your face as you removed the last of the wrapping from his head, but your eyes never drifted to his, nothing but that solemn and stern expression written on your features.

Using a bit of gauze, you were able to clean Mason’s forehead and get a better idea of what you were working with in terms of his injury. The cut was much smaller than you had originally anticipated and you determined it wasn’t severe enough to warrant stitches— something you were incredibly thankful for because you weren’t sure you’d be able to get your shaking hands to settle long enough to place the sutures.

With the bleeding under control, you were able to quickly clean the area and simply place a few bandage strips over the area to keep the edges together.

With the injury tended to, you were able to move on to cleaning the rest of his face. Using a few cloths dipped in the warm water to clean his eyebrow and cheek, where some of the blood had run down to.

The two of you still hadn’t spoken a word when you finally moved on to clean the last of the blood off Mason’s hand, wiping over his palm and in between his fingers.

It was like as soon as you had taken care of his injury, something in you had flipped—gone was the stoic professional who had a laser-focus on Mason’s injury, and it felt like the adrenaline had worn off all at once.

Heat rushed into your face and tears welled in your eyes as the sudden realization hit you that this could’ve been so much worse.

You tried to keep your head bowed low, unwilling to let Mason see all of the emotions welling up inside you. You tried your best to take slow breaths through your nose, but you could feel your lower lip wobbling despite your best efforts to keep the tears at bay.

Mason noticed the shift in your demeanor almost immediately.

You must have been wiping the same spot on the back of his hand for a full minute now, afraid that if you stopped, you’d have to look up at him— have to face the fact that Mason’s injury had shaken you the way it had.

“Y/N?” he whispered ever so softly, but you kept your head down and wouldn’t look him in the eye, even as he tried to dip his head to look at you.

“Look at me, angel.”

Still no response.

Mason brought his free hand to your chin, tilting your head up with a finger so you were forced to look at him. The first glimpse of your misty eyes sent a sharp pang through his heart.

“Love, I’m okay. Everything’s okay.”

The gentle compassionate tone he was using broke the floodgates, and a sharp sob fell from your lips, your hand clamping over your mouth instantly to try to silence it.

Mason pulled you up from your stool and into his side as your emotions got the better of you, your quiet cries muffled as your face was tucked into his neck. He leaned his cheek against the top of your head, mumbling quiet statements of reassurance as he smoothed his palm up and down your back while his other arm held your waist firmly.

“I’m sorry,” you sniffled quietly. “You’re the one who got injured, you shouldn’t have to be comforting me.”

Mason failed to stifle the laugh that bubbled up in his throat at your statement. “Don’t apologize,” he squeezed you a bit closer to him, feeling your breathing begin to steady once he’d had you in his arms for a few moments. “I’ve got you, love. It’s okay.”

Your cheeks were red and splotchy when you pulled back, wiping gently under your eyes to avoid making them more puffy than they already were as you breathed another short, “I’m sorry.”

Mason just smiled at you reassuringly, knowing he wasn’t going to get you to stop apologizing for your emotions any time soon.

Your eyes finally settled on his face, and Mason watched fresh tears spring to your eyes as you reached up to run thumb across his forehead, brushing the skin just under the cut.

“I was so scared, Mase. I saw all the blood and I didn’t kno-“

Mason shushed you gently, worried you’d bring yourself to tears again. “I know, angel. But I’m okay,” he gave you another smile, and the gentleness in your eyes put you at ease. “And I have the best physio ever to look after me, so I know I’ll recover just fine.” He cupped your face with his hand, running a thumb across your jaw and across your lower lip, tugging on it just slightly as he watched the blush rush into your cheeks at his statement of praise.

“Don’t worry on my account, okay?” he spoke, holding your chin between his thumb and forefinger. “Please,” he added.

As you nodded, Mason could tell you still weren’t fully convinced, but he knew it would take time for you to really settle after the way his injury had shaken you.

Mason leaned forward, daring to steal a kiss— something the two of you didn’t do often at work since your relationship was still largely a secret, aside from one or two of your closest friends. His lips were soft and so, so gentle as they moved against your own, and the gesture did wonders to settle your racing mind.

When he pulled away, your eyes were still closed and you couldn’t help but chase his movements, causing Mason to chuckle, indulging you in one more gentle kiss.

It would never cease to amaze you, the way that Mason could settle your mind with such a small action.

“I love you,” you breathed— it was something the two of you had only dared to say recently, but each day you were more and more sure of it.

Mason brushed his nose against yours, his mind reeling with the though that he got to call you his own— get to have these simple, quiet moments with you.

“I love you too,” his heart soared at the proximity to you. “More than you’ll ever know.”

Before long, the two of you parted, knowing that the game that continued to play out in the stadium would soon be over and fearing that someone might walk in on your intimate moment, crushing any efforts to keep your relationship hidden going forward.

Mason could tell that there was a much lighter air to you now, as you turned to his file on the table next to you and began filling out the proper documentation, noting the extent of the injury and all of the checks you had done to make sure he hadn’t picked up a concussion on top of the cut on his head. You wrote in his file with one hand, keeping the pinky of the other looped in his, still needing that bit of touch to ground you and reassure you that he was okay.

Mason knew you’d be a mother hen for the next several days, insisting on taking care of him in every way you could- but Mason couldn’t say he minded the idea of it. If he played his cards right, he thought he might even be able to convince you that he needed be looked after throughout the late hours of tonight and get you to stay at his—not because he was actually worried about the injury, but because he thought there was no better feeling than falling asleep with you in his arms and waking up with you lying next to him.

As you wrote out your notes, you could practically see the gears turning in Mason’s mind, and you had a sneaking suspicion that he was already coming up with ways to keep you around as long as possible after he went home. But you knew you would let him—would play right into his antics that you both knew were overdramatic because you truly loved getting to take care of him.

Upon hearing the chatter of the boys coming down the hallway, the match seemingly having ended, Mason brought your hand up to his lips, pressing a firm kiss to your knuckles before releasing your hand from his so that no one would see it. Butterflies swarmed in your stomach as the small act of affection, and you fought to be as inconspicuous as possible as you heard a few boys entering the room.

A couple players moved to work with other physios, stretching out their muscles after the long match or tending to lingering injuries from weeks past. But Marcus, Rasmus, and Luke walked through the door and made a beeline for Mason to check on him after the nasty collision.

A feeling of warmth spread across your chest as the four boys talked next to you while you continued filling out Mason’s file. It was hard to describe the joy that you felt at how well Mason had settled into life in Manchester since his move, and the relief that you felt in knowing that he had good friends and teammates that he could rely on.

You couldn’t stifle the giggle that fell from your lips as they started recounting the collision in absurd detail, the way little boys would recount the way that they tumbled and fell while playing in the yard.

Glancing up for a brief moment, you caught Mason’s eye, and the way they shone told you he might be thinking the same things you were—that after all, though his move to Manchester had been difficult in many ways, it had brought him to a few of his now closest friends.

And after all, it had brought him to you— something neither of you had ever anticipated. But you wouldn’t have changed anything for the world

As always, your feedback is greatly appreciated!

tag list: @hischierswhore @thoseboysinblue @lovelynikol7 @swimmingismywholelife @masonsrem @brasiliangp @neverinadream @lizzypotter14 @notsoattractivearenti @chilwellsancho @sid-vii @captainpulisic

[rcmclachlan]

okay, so if you’re not writing the aquarium scene in the 118/217 scheming fix-it (god i love this) can you at least share what mishap and or shenanigan gets them banned from the aquarium?? (since you mentioned it in the tags i assume you picked one!)

The aquarium is Christopher's idea, because getting Buck and Tommy back together is the one thing he and Eddie can talk about without it devolving into shouting or week-long silences that make Eddie want to put his fist through his living room wall.

So if plotting to interfere in the open bear trap that is his idiot friends' breakup gets him an hour of uninterrupted screen time with Chris three times a week? He'll meddle in a way that would make even his abuela say, "cariño, that's a little much." He'll change his legal middle name to el metiche.

"Buck used to take me to see the otters when I was younger; they're his favorite. But the exhibit has been closed for a year because they've been redoing it," Chris says, then texts him a link to the aquarium website. "The big reopening is next week. If someone asked Buck to take Jee-Yun, he wouldn't be suspicious."

"Chris, you're a genius," Eddie says, a little awed. His entire body aches to reach through the laptop screen and across state lines to pull his kid into a hug, but all he can do is sit on his hands and hope his face shows all the love he feels.

A small, but genuine grin unfurls on Chris's face. "That's not news, dad."

Eddie decides to take the aquarium idea to what Chimney keeps calling the weekly 118-217 Shadow Summit to see if the rest of the group thinks it holds water—no pun intended—and is extremely offended when Dana gives him a slow blink and says, "That's actually not bad. Who came up with it?"

"Is it that hard to believe it was my idea?"

"Very."

Dana presses the rim of her wine glass to the sly, crimson curve of her mouth. With her victory rolls, winged eyeliner, and tattoos, she looks like the winner of a car show pinup contest. She also looks like an evil queen out of an old school Disney movie. At least five people in their general vicinity look like they'd thank her if she force-fed them a poisoned apple or turned into a giant dragon.

Eddie reaches into the bowl of popcorn by his elbow and throws a handful of it at her. She just takes a sip of her wine and serenely lets the kernels bounce off her.

"Knock it off before I put you both in a time out." Lucy drains the dregs of her beer and says to Chimney, "Having Buckley take your kid is the perfect excuse—she's, what, two? Three?"

"Five," Chim says with the heartache of a man whose baby is almost old enough to rent a car. "As long as we don't tell my wife that Jee's playing the part of the cutest MacGuffin ever in this little plot, we should be good. But how do we get Tommy there?"

"Short of planting a bomb in the penguin tank, I can't think of a reason Mr. Nature Boy himself would ever voluntarily go." Hen roots around in the popcorn bowl for the kernels with the most butter. "Actually, he might be thrilled if we did that. I don't think he likes birds very much."

Dana lifts a brow. "I smell a story."

"Does it smell like KFC?" Chim pops a pretzel in his mouth and chews loudly, grinning. "Once we've adjourned the cabal for the evening, remind me to tell you about Maurice."

Eddie doesn't know Nico very well—he can't get a read on the guy to save his life—but the smug smirk he's sporting looks entirely out of place. Nico takes the last mozzarella stick off the platter they'd ordered to share and puts it between his teeth like a cigar. He looks like the world's lamest oil baron.

Eddie looks at Dana in askance. Wordlessly, she plucks a piece of popcorn out of her hair and throws it at him. It nails him right between the eyes.

"Let me handle Kinard," Nico says. "I'll get him there, no problem."

To his credit, Nico does get Tommy to the aquarium the day of the sea otter exhibit grand reopening. And thanks to Chimney planting Chris's idea in Buck's head at the start of their next shift, Buck does take Jee-Yun.

Unfortunately, their paths never cross, because while the penguin habitat doesn't explode, the sea jelly gallery does, completely flooding the first floor. When the aquarium is forced to evacuate everyone, Buck and Jee-Yun end up at the Chili's down the street, while Tommy ends up riding in an ambulance with an old woman who gets stung by a box jellyfish.

"I don't understand how this happened!" Lucy shouts, keeping her fingers on the ankle pulse of a man in the middle of an allergic reaction to a lilliputian jelly sting as Hen and Chim pump him full of epinephrine and then start administering compressions.

Eddie would help, but he's carrying three kids—two in his arms, one on his back—through shin-deep water to safety while attempting to dodge all the bluebottles floating on the surface. Dana glides past him to get the next group of kids waiting to be rescued, not a hair out of place. She looks like a fucking mermaid. He's gonna trip her the next time they pass each other.

Annoyed, Lucy casts around and then asks, "Has anyone seen Nico?"

Just in time for the man himself to sedately walk through the pandemonium, two bewildered penguins tucked under his arms like purses. He smiles brightly. "Hey, did Kinard pass through here, by any chance? Phase two of my plan is ready to go."

Eddie stares at him. "What was phase one?"

He never does find out what exactly phase one entailed, but it's enough to get them permanently banned from the aquarium for life.

"If you ask me, the punishment so does not fit the crime," Nico says, digging an elbow into Eddie's side as he jostles for room in the back of Athena's squad car.

Eddie says nothing. He's too busy mentally composing the short-answer portion of his application for the El Paso Fire Department, although, in the end, it doesn't matter. He completely forgets everything he plans on writing when Athena slides in, glances in the rearview mirror, and shouts, "Those better not be penguins in my back seat, Edmundo Diaz!"

He and Chris spend two hours talking about it during their next call, so Eddie calls it a win.

[fluentmoviequoter]

Truth Without the Lasso

Requested Here!

Pairing: Jason Todd x fem!powered!reader

Summary: You're Wonder Woman's protégé and adopted daughter. Jason Todd admits that you look familiar, and you tell him secrets the gods have kept for your entire life.

Warnings: brief angst, fluff

Word Count: 1.9k+ words

Picture from Pinterest

Masterlist | DC/Jason Todd Masterlist | Request Info

19 Years Ago

The human, mortal-born baby washed ashore in Gotham Harbor was the talk of the town. Yet, when an out-of-town woman arrived in the dead of night and adopted her, the city quickly forgot the child, too caught up in its unraveling seam to wonder if the young girl found a home. Though they did not notice nor question her humanity, it was the first topic breached after she arrived on Mount Olympus.

“Who is the mortal?” Zeus demanded.

“She has no name,” Diana Prince, Wonder Woman, answered. “No family, no birthright. With the permission of the gods, I would like to adopt her, raise her, transform her into the warrior she is destined to be.”

Achilles looked to Zeus and nodded once. Other gods and goddesses followed, leaving their lofty perches to examine the young life nestled in Diana’s arms. She was at home with Diana, calm and content, and even smiled up at her. When Athena held the child, she squirmed and reached for Diana and cried against Hera’s chest.

“Diana has a connection to her,” Hera told Zeus, “one even you would have trouble breaking.”

“You have our blessing, daughter,” Zeus announced. “And for the child, age will bring her closer to her mother.”

Diana returned to Themyscira, growing to love the young child more each day. As she learned to crawl, walk, and talk, she showed early signs of powers like Diana’s. The blessing bestowed upon her by the gods brought her closer to her mother, indeed, and by the time you were old enough to leave Paradise, you’d met more than enough heroes, villains, and vigilantes to know your fate.

Present Day, Gotham

“What about you, Alkmini?” Flash asks. “Any ideas?”

You shrug, and Black Canary leans over. She whispers, “What about the public approach idea?”

“It’s stupid,” you mumble.

"I said the same about the idea to reform the JSA, but here we are,” Batman points out. “What were you thinking?”

You shift in your seat and look at the table as you say, “What if we just approach them as the JSA rather than trying to find some way to get past the Senate without exposing our identities?”

Batman looks to Superman, who undoubtedly has the most experience hiding his truest identity from humanity.

“Would Diana approve?” Clark asks, smiling at you.

“Why does it matter what Wonder Woman thinks?” Doctor Fate inquires. “Oh, right.”

“She would,” you answer.

“Then, in three weeks’ time, we’ll greet the approaching alien ship as the Justice Society of America, with or without the government’s approval,” Superman announces. “Meeting adjourned.”

“Patrolling tonight?” Bruce asks, seeming to spawn at your side.

“If they’ll let me tag along,” you answer as you prepare to enter the boom tube.

“The day my boys don’t let you patrol with them is the day they’ll need you most.”

“Alkmini!” Tim cheers as you join them on the roof.

“Drake,” you reply softly.

“You do enjoy reminding us that you know our secret identities,” Jason says, and you’re sure he’s smiling beneath the helmet.

You feel fingers along your belt, and the telltale crack of the Lasso of Truth precedes Dick asking, “ Do you care?”

“Of course not,” Jason answers, kicking his foot to remove your rope from his ankle.

“Why not?”

“I’m going to kill you,” Jason grits out, clearly talking through a clenched jaw.

“Where’s Robin?” you ask as you pull the lasso from Dick and return it to the hook along your waistband.

Jason breathes his thanks as Dick answers that he’s with Batman tonight. You feel more courageous than ever standing with Red Hood, Nightwing, and Red Robin. You’ve grown to love the bats and birds, and you know they care about you, too. Since learning their secret identities, you’ve noticed the long looks they send you, trying to decide if they should know who you are based on what they can see past the small mask your mother had forged for you. Diana’s your mother, biological or not, and your Themysciran family is as important to you as your Gotham family.

Batman flies across the sky before landing on the opposite side of the roof from you. You narrow your eyes and ask, “Did he get taller?”

“Let the criminals think so,” Batman rasps as he enters the light.

Damian is perched on his shoulders, his arms hanging as he blinks sleepily, leaning his head against the top of the cowl. Bruce’s gloved hands are wrapped protectively around Damian’s ankles as he moves carefully.

“Who can take him home?” he asks.

“I can,” you offer.

“Does Wonder Woman know where you are?”

“Of course.”

Bruce nods once, and when he tips toward you, Damian wakes. “Alkmini,” he says. “Your assistance on my Greek mythology essay was most….”

You wait for him to finish, but he slumps heavier against Bruce, asleep, and you take him carefully. Damian is incredibly special to you, and it isn’t the first time you’ve gone out of your way to protect him. You say goodbye to the boys, careful not to look directly at Jason’s red mask because you swear you can feel his intense gaze on you through the red material.

After you leave, Jason mumbles, “ So familiar. I should know by now.”

“How are the boys?” Diana asks, in her Wonder Woman costume – uniform? You aren’t sure of the correct terminology and are too far into training to ask – as she surveys the city.

“They’re good,” you answer. “Thanks for helping me with the braces. I’d hate to try to stop a real bullet without the practice.”

“Keep spending time in Gotham and you’ll appreciate the training even more.”

You chuckle and prepare to move your arms to deflect projectiles with the armor around your wrists once more.

Several hours after the conclusion of a rough patrol and a text from Dick, you knock on a locked window. Damian looks up from the couch and smiles before he lets you in. He hugs you tightly before stepping back.

“Where’s Jason?” you inquire, looking around the apartment.

“His room. You can go see him; I believe he’s sulking again. I don’t know if he reread Mr. Darcy’s first proposal or if tonight got to him,” Damian answers.

“Thanks.”

At the end of the short hall, you knock and wait for Jason to invite you in. He’s sitting on the floor, leaning back slightly with his patrol uniform still on, only his helmet and domino mask discarded beside him. You close the door and kneel beside his feet, giving him plenty of room.

“You know what one of my first memories is?” Jason asks, his head tipped back against the wall, his eyes closed. “When I was two or three, a kid washed up in the harbor. I don’t remember specifics, but it was a girl. The story stuck with me. I looked into it last night and read that a woman from out of town adopted her and took her away.”

You watch Jason and shift slightly. That was you, but you had no idea Jason knew about it. He opens his eyes and looks at you, smiling as you lose your fight to maintain eye contact and drop your eyes to his chest.

“Why haven’t you told us – me – who you really are?” he asks.

Your voice is soft, but you know Jason hears when you say, “Growing up, I wasn’t allowed to. And then, after that long, it just felt like… I guess I thought if I told you then it would be like I didn’t trust you before.”

“Do you trust me?” Jason asks.

You notice he didn’t even bother to include the rest of his family this time and pass him the lasso. With the end wrapped around your wrist, you say, “I trust you more than anything or anyone. Except my mom, maybe.”

Jason tilts his head, and his tongue runs over his lips quickly before he says, “I wasn’t aware this made shy people talk easier. I’ll have to remember that.” He tosses it back to you and places his hands on the floor beside him. “I trust you too, without the lasso.”

“Why’d you bring up the little girl from so long ago?” you inquire.

“There was a baby left in an alley tonight. Bruce said he’d look into it, but it just reminded me of that.”

You nod and roll your bottom lip between your teeth.

“You look so familiar,” he mutters. “Especially when you do that.”

Carefully, you move closer to Jason. He extends his arm, and you scoot forward until your hip is against his, facing him as his hand settles on your waist.

“Nineteen years ago, I was adopted by Wonder Woman,” you begin. “But, because of who she is, she couldn’t just take me in, she had to get permission from the gods.”

“The gods? Like Zeus, Athena?” Jason interjects.

You nod and continue, “They gave her permission, and gifted me some of her powers because we were connected and because I was a warrior.” You hold Jason’s intense gaze as you explain, “I was a warrior because I’d survived on my own and washed up in Gotham.”

“You visited with Diana,” Jason realizes. “That’s why you look so familiar! When Bruce first took me in, Diana would come by sometimes, and she always had a little girl with her.”

You smile, and Jason extends his legs out further. He pulls you against him, brushing his fingers along the bottom of your mask. After you nod, he peels it away from your face. It’s like he’s seeing you for the first time and the thousandth time, he thinks as he tugs you into his lap.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner,” you whisper.

“I trust you wholly,” Jason admits. “And that scared me. Do you remember playing together once, around Christmas the year after I stole Bruce’s tires?”

“Of course,” you answer as if it’s obvious. Something about having the mask off, being truly seen, makes it easier to admit everything. “How could I forget the Christmas I fell in love?”

Jason smiles and leans up, wrapping his arms around your waist as his nose taps yours.

“Are you decent?” Damian asks at the door. “I have a question regarding Odysseus and the suitors.”

“Is he reading The Odyssey?” you ask Jason.

“Sounds like a question for you,” he responds with a shrug.

“Are you okay? Finding a kid in a position like that can’t be easy.”

“I am. I’ll check on her tomorrow, and tonight hasn’t been all bad.”

“Come on in, Damian,” you call.

Jason scrambles for your mask, but you catch his wrist and shake your head as you stand from his lap. He pushes himself up beside you, and Damian enters with his nose in the book. When he finishes his question and looks up, his eyes widen.

You answer Damian’s question, but he doesn’t seem to hear it before he asks, “What’s your name?”

Jason answers with you, and you smile up at him.

“What’s that look for?” he inquires.

“I’m going to Themyscira for my birthday pretty soon. Do you want to come with me?”

“Will Diana threaten to kill me?”

“Probably.”

“I’ll go,” Damian offers.

“You’re all invited. But I should probably put Dick out of his misery and tell him that I am who he thinks I am.”

“Let’s take this,” Jason suggests, tugging your Lasso of Truth to pull you closer.

[lyinyao]

what i think are the wbk boys' charm points !

first years edition pt1 | sakura, nirei, sugishita

tags ~ fem!reader, mostly fluff, mentions of body shaming (sugishita), random af

notes ~ don't mind me just daydreaming about wbk as usual, i tried including one for physical appearances and one for their characteristics..

first years edition pt2 | suo, kiryu, taiga

sakura's eyes / honesty

the first thing you notice about sakura is the sharp contrast of his hair, then when you approach the boy, his eyes are what catches your attention

on one side there's a bleak gray that reminds you of the barren field of the moon ; on the other is an eye as golden as the sunset - which you believe is absolutely captivating

sakura's shy with his advances, often needing a little push from either one of his friends, but one thing for certain is that the things he says are genuine and rarely sugarcoated

he's outright but still chooses his words carefully, and it gives you so much more comfort than the words of reassurance anyone could give

because you know he means it and that he wouldn't fake any reaction

sakura averts his eyes, gaze not staying on your figure for more than three seconds because he's never seen anyone as pretty as you

you were thanking him for saving you the other day from some creeps, to which he recalls happened quite recently but he hadn't gotten a good look at you until now

and god he doesn't know what to do with himself

everytime he looks back towards you (because it's impolite to not look at somebody talking to you), your eyes were already fixed on him and he prays that his appearance wasn't weirding you out

if it wasn't already obvious by the warmth that envelopes your cheeks when you realise how much you've been staring deep into his eyes

"those guys were.. bothering you right? you shouldn't let them walk all over you like that."

he mutters with a pout, he knows his face is unbelievably red right now, and he thinks it's so uncool to act like this in front of such a cute girl and he knows you know it too

but he still decides to send you off with some words of advice (he doesn't want you to get hurt the next time)

you smile with eyes filled with gratitude for him, you swear you can see steam coming out of his ears from how hot he feels, and give him a playful reply

"right, I'll send them one of those flying kicks you did!"

he then says you shouldn't do that without practice with a rather concerned face, which earns him another minute of your laughter

nirei's smile / support

when the corners of nirei's lips curl upwards, practically every facial feature of his light up, and naturally your lips end up mirroring his in any situation

he's a beam of sunshine that's for sure, the guiding light that you just need sometimes

nirei is the first to celebrate your achievements and the last person you'd shoo away during your moments of self deprecation

he's so eager to help too, pulling out his trusty notebook to offer you support in any topic, you wouldn't be surprised if he had your grocery list for the following week prepared for you

you have been struggling with a school project for a while now, you were constantly doing research, which resulted in you sleeping awfully late some days

luckily you have nirei around to remind you to 'take breaks!' and 'make sure you eat your fill!'

at one point, you both started facetiming each other while you continue your assignment (nirei's suggestion)

sure having nirei's company during these tough nights was certainly helping your productivity, but you didn't want him to suffer along with you and continuously assured him that he didn't have to do this, especially with how hard he's working to protect the town as well

he assured you back that he didn't mind at all and he was doing this on his own accord anyways

he's too shy to admit that he's missed hearing you and seeing your face after you've been busy holed up in your house completing your project for the past week

whenever you were having a tough time and nirei noticed, he'd give you a wide grin followed with some encouraging words to help you get through it

"nirei. nirei?", you call out with a soft voice, the camera showing the top of his head hasn't moved in the past half hour

you say his name once more and you see his body flinch slightly, head jerking up to face you, prying his bleary eyes open as best as he can

he mumbled a quick apology as he yawns.. and he apologizes for that as well

"it's okay, you should go rest aki. i'm finished."

you find it adorable how he immediately perks up, congratulating and praising you for your hard work, the proudest smile hung on his face

you would return the energy if it wasn't near depleted by then, so you settle for a soft chuckle, thanking him for all the support he's given

you pout when he denies your credit and sigh

"well if you're not gonna accept that, i'll just have to use my actions to repay you huh?"

"i'll make up for all the dates we've missed out on tenfold!", you hum, teasing his flustered face before wishing him a good night's sleep

sugishita's height / loyalty

not everybody is a whopping 6ft tall, but your boyfriend is, turning heads everywhere he goes

either curious of the way he towers over everyone or concerned about the prominent grouch he embodies

everybody knows the only person in sugishita's eyes is everyone's beloved top dog - umemiya, but one could argue you were a close second

you've seen how he reacted when anybody refers to umemiya without honorifics, he wouldn't hesitate to defend your name either

it was a lovely day, the weather was perfect and you had cleared your schedule for the day

you even spent the entire morning putting together a flattering outfit to go out in, of course you had to drag your grumbling boyfriend up from his nap for a date! (he quickly shut up after laying his eyes on you)

you both do a little window shopping, mainly just you leading in the front, squealing at whatever catches your eye

and sugishita follows closely behind, like a guard dog, ready to jump at any threat during your lovely outing

you tell him to lay off the scary expression, which he merely huffs in response (he tries to keep his face as neutral as possible after that and ends up looking even scarier through an onlooker's eyes from how hard he's focusing)

you've scurried off to a food stall to get you both a snack on the go when sugishita overhears some rather unpleasant remarks targeted towards you

his eyebrow twitches in annoyance, and mentally panics when he notices you stiffen up, the conversation you were having with the stall owner dying down

they weren't standing too far off, in fact you stood even closer than sugishita was, you feel like curling up and disappearing, like the nights where you'd curl into yourself, arms wrapping around your own waist in a pathetic way to comfort yourself

you quickly pay for the food and urge sugishita to leave the scene, your pace quickening from how desperate you wanted to escape this situation

but before you could react, sugishita was already heading towards the group of people, his back straightened to assert intimidation

"got a problem?"

he cocks his head to the side, with the meanest glare aimed at those people, you scramble to his side trying to pull him away but his stubborn head just wouldn't budge

the people were visibly flustered, their presence shrunk down to that of a mouse, while they hurried away with their tails between their legs

you sigh, "it's alright sugi.. let's just get going yeah?"

he obliges, but now with a hand around your waist, you look up at him in shock and his brows were still furrowed, eyes trained at the road ahead

you realise he's straining his arm to cover your waist, in case you felt insecure about people seeing

he knows you've figured out his intentions, but he doesn't let it show, you just smile and walk a bit more closer to him, happily indulging in the snack you had purchased

you reach the treat up to sugishita's face so that he could have a taste as well, giggling when he comments that it's too sweet

.. definitely not as sweet as your boyfriend though

before posting ~ happy girlfriends day girlfrienddss ‼️ tomorrow is actually my bday and I've finally decided to post this :3 this sucks and im embarrassed but when have i cared about that so it's getting posted 💪

[jeankluv]

greetings! can you make a fluff gojo satoru story wherein on a random rest day, while smiling fondly at a busy satoru, admiring how amazing he is—being the strongest and all—you felt a pang in your heart as you thought of the big responsibility and burden he carries along with it. thinking how he never asked to be born with these heavy responsibilities wherein single mistake could cost a lot of lives. despite displaying his playful demeanor most of the time, you acknowledge and embrace his vulnerability and struggles. you praised, admire, praise, sympathized and praise him again. just gojo being reminded the reason why he loved you.

just a small plot i thought of inspired by the quote "it's his first time living too" while listening to mr. loverman, hehe. may i request kisses too. *heart hands* thank you!

I love when I get requests like this bc I love to write Gojo in this kind of situation 🥺

In fact I wrote a one shot, not long ago, similar to the request but only posted on ao3, you can check it here. But anyways, I wrote another one shot with your request, I hope you like it and enjoy it.

Let me be the strong one | Gojo Satoru

Words: 1,3K

Summary: The higher-ups had sent him on several missions in a row, without letting him rest, without letting him teach, they had simply thrown him into the field and let him fight on his own. Now for the first time in three weeks you saw him rest.

Tags: fluff, angst, domestic fluff, establish relationship, Satoru needs a hug, Satoru best boy, gn!reader, no use of y/n, pet names (honey, my love, ‘Toru), canon universe but spoilers free

jjk materialist

Your heart burned every time you saw him enter the door, sometimes almost falling to his knees due to the accumulated fatigue that his brain and body carried on top of him.

Gojo Satoru was the strongest, considered by many a God, someone superior. After all he was the one who had brought balance to the world with the simple birth of him. The one born with the six eyes and the infinity.

Sometimes you wish you could take it away from him, to be able to take away infinity and the six eyes, that he could live without that burden on his shoulders, without that duty that he never asked for. That he didn't have to hide his gaze behind a dark bandage. You wanted to take it away and just have it be Satoru. That he could rest and enjoy the things he liked.

You sat in the armchair that was on one side and watched how his chest rose and fell calmly and how his face was illuminated by the rays of the sun that filtered through your window, making his hair and white eyelashes stand out even more.

You loved that man so much, you were crazy in love with him and you have been ever since your high school years. You were not a special grader, you weren’t even that strong, so when your feelings for him started to surface when you were both 16, you felt scared. He was on another level, one you would never reach. At least that was the facade that Satoru showed to everyone, but as time and years passed with him, only you and him shared those sleepless nights where Satoru would knock on your door and wait for you to make room for him in your bed, to simply being hugged to each other and feeling your warmth intertwine with each other. Those moments had only caused you to fall more in love with him.

Luckily those feelings were reciprocated when you were 20 and now 8 years later they had not stopped growing.

“I can feel you observing me.” Satoru spoke with his eyes still closed.

“You should keep resting.” You whispered.

He sat on the couch and stretched himself up. “It’s okay, I had enough rest already.”

“‘Toru…” You said, feeling your heart ache.

“Honey, I’m really okay, don’t worry.” He smiled at you.

“You don’t have to be strong in front of me, you know?” You moved next to him. “Let me be the strong one for you. Let me take your pain too.” You whispered.

“You don’t have to take anything from me because there is…”

“I know you ‘Toru, and because I know you, I know you are not okay.” You cupped his face. So please let me take care of you, let me be your shield, even if it’s just for a moment.” He smiled sadly and then rested his head on your chest.

“I’m tired…” He whispered. “So tired. I love to fight and to face challenges but it’s tiring. Sometimes… I would like not to have this responsibility on me. From the moment I was born, I was already assigned a role, before I even cried for the first time, I was already the strongest, without asking for it.” You ran your fingers through his hair, trying to let him know that you were with him. “I never felt like I had a childhood, so when I entered the school and met you, Suguru and Shoko, I felt like being the strongest wasn't the important thing and that I could be me when I was around you.”

“‘Toru…” You whispered with a sad look.

“But then everything went down…” He said. “I couldn’t save everyone, I couldn’t prevent their deaths, I couldn’t…”

“Satoru, that’s not true…” You cupped his face making him look at you, his blue eyes were filled with tears. “You protected so many people and saved so many too.” With your thumb you caressed his face. “'Toru, you really are amazing, you are strong, yes, but above all that, you are a good person, full of love, who loves his students and wants the best for them.” You smiled. “But you are also human, and you need to rest and be taken care of. So please let me take care of you my love.”

Satoru didn’t say anything else, instead he laid his head on your legs and let you take care of him as you had asked him. A couple of minutes passed when you noticed how his breathing was calmer and how his eyes were completely closed and his mouth slightly open. He had fallen asleep. After carefully placing Satoru on the couch and tucking him in with a cozy blanket, you made your way to the kitchen with a purpose in mind: to prepare something special for him. Cooking had always been therapeutic for you, and in that moment, you felt it was the perfect way to show your concern and affection for him.

When the sweet aroma of the freshly baked cake filled the kitchen, you felt a wave of satisfaction and anticipation. You knew the gesture would be a pleasant surprise for Satoru, and you hoped it would bring him some joy.

Suddenly, as you focused on the oven, you felt two arms wrapping around you from behind. A warm smile spread across your face, knowing that Satoru was there with you, sharing the moment.

“You left…” He whispered.

“I wanted to make a cake for you.” You turned around to see him. “How are you feeling?” You touched his face.

“I am better.” He closed his eyes as you touched him. “You know I love you so much, right?”

“I know.” You smiled tilting your head. “And I love you too.” You kissed him.

“Thank you my love.” He kissed you back. “For understanding me the way you do and for loving me as Satoru not as Gojo Satoru, the strongest.” He smiled.

“For me, you are just my dear ‘Toru, my silly boyfriend who wants to act cool in front of his dear students, the one who loves to eat sweets and go to different places in Tokyo so he can eat all of the sweets in the world and likes to take pictures of those sweets, so then he can fill my phone with those pictures. My ‘Toru, who despite everything, always takes the responsibility, even if it’s too heavy for him, who will blame himself for things he can’t control, the one who wants to change this shitty society so the future generations can have the childhood he never had.” You smiled, getting emotional. “That’s the man I love, who loves me passionately and has never let me down.”

“Every day I am grateful for having met you and having fallen in love and continue to fall in love with you.” He hugged you, hiding his face in your neck. “Don't ever leave, please…” He whispered against your skin, before leaving a delicate kiss.

“Never…” You caress her back gently. “Oh!” You gasped when you started to smell it. “‘Toru the cake!” You stepped away from him and turned off the oven. Carefully removing it from the oven, you placed it on the counter. “It burned…” You whispered, looking at the burnt cake.

You felt Satoru approach you and place a kiss on his cheek. “Let's do another one, this time both of us together.” He smiled at you.

You nodded and kissed him, and it was at times like that where you wish you could take all of Satoru's problems, burdens and responsibilities off his shoulders, and throw them away, where they could never reach him.

[blackberrysummerblog]

Hi all! I’m just out here being three weeks late with my 2024 Writing Round-Up, and thank you so much to @monbons, @forabeatofadrum, @confused-bi-queer, @rimeswithpurple, @nausikaaa, @prettygoododds, @ileadacharmedlife, @artsyunderstudy, @best--dress, @j-nipper-95, @roomwithanopenfire, @you-remind-me-of-the-babe, @imagineacoolusername, @mooncello, and @thewholelemon for tagging me! I hope I didn’t miss anyone, and thank you as well to everyone who’s been tagging me for Six Sentence Sunday and WIP Wednesday this month. Without getting too much into it, I am BURNT. OUT, and it’s making me retreat from even the things I enjoy the most, like writing and catching up on everyone’s beautiful fandom works.

But, I’m determined to make this round-up post, even if it takes me a couple of days to put together. There’s a lot here! Almost all of it was from COC, which I was hellbent on finishing this year, and did! Here’s the list, in chronological order, of all published writing for 2024:

The Field Trap, 1/2 (5272, M) This has been sitting unfinished for a bit, but I do anticipate it being completed. I discovered a real love for Watford-era fics toward the end of the past year, but it probably all began for me two years ago when I wrote Field Trip of Dreams, the prequel to Field Trap. At any rate, I haven’t forgotten the fic, and Field Trap may end up with an E rating in the second chapter.

Time Will Lie Down and Be Still (26,201, M) This is the fic I’m most proud of this year. It’s the result of my COBB collab with @rimeswithpurple, and it’s been such an inspiration to work with Arianna! I highly recommend the experience :D This fic has 3/5 chapters published so far, and I’m getting there with the 4th. I’ll share that Arianna finished the art for Chapter 4 the other day and it is STUNNING, so I need to get my part done! For anyone who doesn’t know, the fic is a retelling of the movie Practical Magic (I’ve never been able to get very far in the book, for whatever reason, so I wouldn’t count on the fic lining up with it). This one is close to my heart for many reasons, but I’ve especially enjoyed building Dev’s character and his relationship with Baz.

Absolutely everything else I published was for COC, and I’ll put it below a cut due to length. Thanks to everyone who read my work this year! As always, the output of this fandom is just incredible, and I’ve enjoyed being able to take it in as well as contribute a little myself. Happy New Year, everyone!

Something Old (1146, T) Simon finds something unexpected while clearing out space in the wardrobe.

Chosen (880, G) Agatha and Simon have just begun dating and Philippa attempts to engage her in a little friendly roommate squee. Agatha isn’t quite so sure.

I Hate You, Never Leave Me (2339, M) Simon and Baz have found a new and better way to settle their differences, by getting each other off all over campus. Will it evolve into anything more, however? (I love this one, honestly. Might have to someday write a more extensive version)

Greek (1565, T) Simon has to keep a very close eye on Baz in Greek class, for reasons.

Let Me See You (1205, T) Simon is the one to find Baz draining a deer in the forest instead of Agatha. His reaction is not what either of them was expecting.

Truth or Dare (2608, T) Does what it says on the tin—the gang play a game of Truth or Dare, and the dares reveal a little more truth than anyone expected. (Definitely not a groundbreaking take on the prompt, but I never really tire of reading truth or dare fics, and hoped readers would feel the same :P)

Gently, Gently (668, M) Simon and Baz spend the morning in bed, skiving off class and not regretting it at all. (I came to realize that an embarrassing number of fics I write either start out with the boys waking up in bed or that is the entire premise of the fic. “Waking up” is a weird fetish to have, but OK me, I guess)

Looking for Knives, Looking for You (1181, T) Baz reflects on all the wounds he and Simon have given each other over the years. (Despite the vicious sounding title and depressing summary, this one was meant to be sort of cute and sweet)

Hold You Safe (1015, G) At the start of Eighth Year, Dev and Niall’s relationship is still very new as they get some bad news from home.

Dinner (Guess Who’s Coming) (3525, T) It’s half term, and Baz’s parents want to take him to dinner. They invite him to bring a friend, but unfortunately for Malcolm, he pisses Baz off first, and Baz decides his guest will be Simon—the Mage’s heir, his family’s mortal enemy, and Baz’s undying secret crush. (As with nearly all my COC offerings this year, this fic was knocked out during my lunch break the day of, and it shows. It really could have stood to be longer and more developed, so maybe I’ll revisit it one day, since I did like the premise)

Stay with Me (878, T) It’s Eighth Year and Simon gets home late and injured from a mission. Baz arrives at a resolution. (I was a little baffled to get a comment about the Mage already being dead, since this fic takes place during the school year and makes mention of a very much alive Mage in multiple places. It was more of a statement than a criticism though, I think.)

A Charmed Life (1449, E) Baz and Simon have an utterly normal morning getting frisky in bed. (Again. Huh.)

A Horse Named Jane (736, T) Simon has that song stuck in his head again. The one Baz can’t stand. They work out a (sort of) compromise.

Sour and Sweet (3060, G) It’s Baz’s birthday and Agatha has just given Simon his walking papers. Oh no :P However, the breakup does little to lift Baz’s spirits. (This one has two chapters and filled two prompts, sour and sweet, natch. Chapter two’s summary is: Simon decides he needs to make something sweet for Baz’s birthday, even though he’s two days late and doesn’t know how to bake. Well, he’s got magic at his disposal, so things are sure to turn out just fine. :P)

Punk (828, T) Baz is making Simon join him for lunch with Fiona again, but Simon figures he’ll debut a new look & attitude. Will they actually make it to the restaurant? (I really enjoyed writing this one. Simon being frustrated with Fiona’s behavior and still being silly with Baz about it was just a happy place for me)

Surprise (733, M) Simon and Baz are engaging in one of their classic Mummers’ House tiffs. What will happen? :P (I did write a little surprise into this one, but it was very much in keeping with some of my favorite themes)

Cast in Fire (791, G) Simon comes to Watford and learns about how his roommate will be chosen.

Fluff and Nonsense (1627, T) The prompt is ‘fluff’ and did I once again take the opportunity to write a light-on-plot secret relationship fic about Watford-era Simon and Baz being cozy and silly in bed? Yeah, I might have. Simon is going home with Baz over the Christmas break. Not a lot going on here, they’re just really comfy and in love.

Pieces of Me (1557, M) Baz has been having nightmares. Simon comforts him and encourages him to open up.

The World Was Open (956, T) Agatha and Niamh attend Simon and Baz’s wedding, and Agatha overhears another guest making a snide remark.

Find Me (2374, M) Eighth year at Watford was unremarkable, and Simon and Baz last saw each other when they graduated. Seven months later, Dev and Niall drag a pining and protesting Baz out to a club for a night of drinking and dancing, but there’s a familiar face behind the bar. Simon Snow is serving drinks, and worse, he’s flirting with a Baz lookalike. What will happen :P (This was yet another fic that could have been developed a little more, but I was still happy with the result overall)

Warm Spell (1795, M) Goatherd Simon has been almost-encountering a beautiful stranger for several weeks now, but one hot summer day, they finally meet.

Lost and Found (575, G) The boys go shopping together and Baz temporarily loses Simon, but it’s all pretty plot-free :P

Truce (1101, M) Simon pesters Baz while he’s trying to study, and needs to learn a lesson. Will they be able to call a truce? (This one was where the trouble began—I changed my settings to allow comments from unregistered users, because I like to fuck around and find out, I suppose. And find out I did! Luckily, the rude comment I received took aim at some writing element that didn’t even make sense for this particular fic, and I quickly realized it was a bot. Not long after, I started getting comments on other fics as well, all very nonspecific to the fandom, characters, and genre. I’m so sorry because I know it upset a few readers who were very kind to clap back and reassure me, and I changed my settings back so that it wouldn’t happen again.)

Savour (1189, T) Simon has been away on one of his missions for the Mage, and Baz has been awaiting his return by leaving out plates of food in their room every night. (Bot’s review: “the worst fic in the fandom”. It’s not even the worst fic in my own oeuvre, so joke’s on you, guy XD)

We Were Always Together (2239, T) During cotillion class, Simon is forced to dance with Baz. The horror! (I flipping loved writing this. Full on had a blast and Would Write Again)

Let It Snow (925, M) It’s almost time for Christmas break at Watford, and it may not turn out as the boys planned. However, thanks to a spell gone wrong (or very right) it may yet work out for the best :P

Always (551, G) It’s Christmas Eve and Baz has just finished putting the kids to bed. Simon is putting the finishing touches on the Christmas tree.

Something New (990, T) Simon and Baz have a little tiff near the end of eighth year, but it’s not fated to last long. I’ve written a lot of secret!relationship Watford era fics for COC this year, some that could go together and some that were in separate universes. It’s been so much fun to write about the boys sneaking around, but this is…something new. :P (In which I was very pleased with myself for how I wrapped things up in accordance with the prompt. I really, really enjoyed COC this year :D)

Thanks for reading! I’m sure most everyone has already made their own round-up posts, but consider these no-pressure tags and hellos: @valeffelees @stardustasincocaine @bookish-bogwitch @facewithoutheart @c0nsumemy5oul @jasonfunderberkerthefrogexists @tender-ministrations @basiltonbutliketheherb @ghostpepperworld @larkral @letraspal @cows4247 @fiend-for-culture @palimpsessed @hushed-chorus @shrekgogurt @raenestee @cutestkilla @drowninginships @youarenevertooold @iamamythologicalcreature @beastmonstertitan @ic3-que3n @supercutedinosaurs @stitchy-queerista @alexalexinii @asocialpessimist @shutup-andletme-go @prettygoododds @ivelovedhimthroughworse @j-nipper-95 @wellbelesbian @bookishbroadwayandblind @orange-peony @papierhaikuphoto @martsonmars

[streamafterlaughter]

Soundtrack to Disaster

Chapter VI: Fire at Will

masterlist | playlist | pinboard | prev.

songs for this chapter: thank you for the venom by my chemical romance, that's what you get by paramore

summary: You spend the day with your brother and his friends, and it ends with an unexpected invitation.

a/n: lol... how we feelin' so far?

chapter tags: self doubt, mentions of drinking and smoking, best friend!robin and best friend! Steve of course. | fic tags: Angst, hurt/(eventual) comfort, (eventual) smut, slow burn, enemies to friends to lovers, Eddie Munson x Fem!OC!Reader, Modern AU | This fic is rated 18+ MDNI

DISCLAIMER: I do not consent to having my work fed to AI engines, or reposted in any way, shape, or form on other websites. Unless otherwise stated, this is the only account that features and contains this work, and any replication was done without my consent. Please let me know if you see my work elsewhere. Reblog/comment/like to support the author! Join the tag list!

-- “Hey, kid,” Your brother is hunched over a bowl of cereal in your kitchen. “Gotta question for ya.”

You pick the sleep from your eyes, still groggy as you shuffle over to the coffeemaker. “Shoot.”

“You know Scotty?” 

You turn to face him, narrowing your eyes as if attempting to read his mind. “Yeah, why?” Scotty’s a nice kid, probably your favorite of Chris’s friends. He’s always treated you like an equal, instead of his buddy’s little sister. He has long, disheveled sandy blonde hair, green eyes, and sparse facial hair, reminding you of Kurt Cobain, if he’d had a happier disposition. Chris and Scotty had grown up inseparable, it didn’t surprise you that Chris would want to set you up with him.

“Well, and don’t like, shoot the messenger here, he wanted me to ask if you’d be interested in going out with him at all.” Chris seems to wince as he says the words, only adding more layers of confusion to the situation.

You shrug. “I mean, I don’t have anything against it.” You honestly had never given Scotty a second thought, but you’ve been single for about three years now. You deserve some fun. 

“Really? Cool. We’re all going to the skate park later, you should come hang. Test the waters.” Chris points at you. “I’ll let you pick the snacks.”

You can’t help but scoff. “I pick the snacks anyway, Crispy.”

“Of course, Beebs.”

–

It’s unseasonably warm for October, requiring only a hoodie and your go to knit beanie for coverage. Chris greets his friends, dapping each of them with a unique flair you can’t comprehend. Boys confuse you. Luckily, you’re not the only girl there, some of Chris’s friends have brought their girlfriends, and when you go to greet them, your smile is wiped from your face. 

“You’re Bee!” Macy extends one manicured hand out to you from where she sits on the graffitied wooden table. “Hi, Macy.” You greet her lamely, shaking her hand that feels way too soft to be natural.

“These are my girls, Fiona and Zoe.” She motions to the girls beside her, both of them absolutely stunning. Fiona has dark skin that seems to glow in the sun, her hair in long, tight braids down her back, wearing a Citizen sweatshirt and ripped baggy jeans. Zoe is a petite girl, with purple hair tied in space buns on either side of her head. She’s wearing a shirt three sizes too big, her black jeans cuffed. You suddenly feel far too self aware for your liking in your paint stained cargo pants and hoodie worn with age. “Where are your buds, Bee?” Macy asks, passing you what looks like the butt of a joint. 

“What, Steve and Robin? They’re working today, I’m just hanging out with my brother.” You inhale the roach, feeling the sting in your throat before passing it along to Zoe. “You guys skate?”

“Roller, mostly.” Zoe pulls a pair of neon green roller skates out of her duffel bag. “You?”

“A little, nothing impressive.” You drop your board to the concrete, a hand-me-down from your brother when he’d earned enough for a new one. 

“Hello, ladies!” Scotty and Chris approach your group, with Eddie and Gareth close behind them. You can feel your facial muscles fall into a frown at the sight of Eddie, and he locks eyes with you, a teasing grin on his face. “Bee, didn’t expect you here.” You think he winks at you, but it could just be the sun in his eyes. 

“Chris conveniently left out the part where you’d be here.” You grumble, fiddling the board with your feet. 

“Huh, wonder why he’d do such a thing!” Eddie nudges your brother, who shoves him back with more force than probably necessary. You turn to look at Macy, who’s got an obvious scowl directed at her boyfriend. If that’s even what he is. 

“Can we cut the chit chat, please? My grandmother’s coming over for dinner, I need to be home by six.” Garet groans, dropping his board.

“Yeah, yeah. Chris, you bring the shit?” Eddie asks, turning away from you to drop his own board.

“Yeah, man. Who d’you think I am?” Chris shrugs off his backpack, opening it to reveal a handheld camera, fisheye lens attached. “Who’s first?”

Eddie doesn’t bother answering, pushing himself across the park to gain momentum. Scotty turns to you, giving you a smile before he follows Eddie, who is then followed by Chris, camera to his face. 

“You guys comin’? You turn to Macy, who doesn’t meet your eyes, and to her friends distracted by their phones.

“Yeah, for sure, one sec.” Zoe says, typing fiendishly. When she finishes, Macy’s phone dings in her hand, and she answers it with her own speedy fingers. You look at Fiona, who’s blowing a bubble with her gum so big you’re afraid it’ll get caught in Macy’s hair.

“Okay…” You pivot, about to push off and meet the guys, when Macy spits the next words right at her. “How do you know Eddie, Bee?”

“What?” You stumble, board slipping from underneath you and rolling away. You chase it down shamefully, returning to the girls with a red face. “He’s Chris’s friend.”

“For how long?” She doesn’t sound mad, exactly. Worried, maybe. About what, you have no idea.

“Oh, I dunno. Chris met him at an after school club where he had to volunteer in high school to stay out of juvy,” The words pour from you, uncensored. “Eddie was, like, his little brother.” 

“Oh, so he’s like, your brother too?” Her voice lilts, optimistic.

You shrug, putting no effort behind it. “He’s more like an unwanted growth, if I’m being honest.” You regret the words immediately, but Macy laughs at them, so hard that she snorts. 

“Sorry, I was just so worried he had a thing for you!” She relaxes continuing, “I like him so much, but I’m not, like, willing to compete for him, y’know? Well, that’s not true either. I would, probably. But I’m glad I don’t have to!” Her friends giggle, and you shift uncomfortably where you stand, on display in front of the three of them like an American Idol contestant. 

“Hey, lazy bones!” Chris calls from across the park, “You guys gonna skate or what? My followers love watching the ladies!”

“Yeah, we’re coming!” Macy shouts, reaching for her own pair of black and pink skates. “Let’s go upstage these noobs, huh?” She holds out her hand, and you pull her up from her spot, her friends following closely behind. The guys are eating shit, trying ridiculously hard to get the shots they need for their clips. It makes you giggle, watching some of the silliest guys you know take something like skateboarding so seriously.

“Bee, come do one! You’re probably the best out of all of us!” Scotty invites you over, and you can feel your cheeks warm with the flattery. You hold your board in front of you, gathering your momentum before dropping it, hopping on with ease. Your friends, even Eddie, cheer you on as you flip the board, landing an ollie on the first try, and grinding the rail with ease. The adrenaline flows through you, propelling you forward. The board is an extension of yourself, you control it with the finesse of a dancer. Chris films the whole thing, whooping and hollering every time you land a trick. 

“You get that?” You shout to your brother when you finish your run. He nods, offering you the camera to watch yourself back. You’re watching a completely different person, someone confident and graceful, someone that knows exactly what to do with their body, how to move it to their advantage. You don’t recognize yourself, or even really believe it’s you you’re watching. You don’t say any of that, instead only adding a weak “hell yeah” to the group commentary.

–

“Food?” Chris passes you the blunt as your group walks to the parking lot. The sun is setting, casting an orange glow over the earth. You and your friends are exhausted, bruised and scraped up, but in good spirits.

“I could go for some grub!” Scotty skips up next to you, shoulder bumping yours as he motions for the spliff between your fingers. You hand it to him, nodding in agreement. In front of you, Eddie walks with his arm around Macy, whose other hand is laced with Fiona’s, whose other arm is linked with Zoe’s. He whispers something to her, causing her to giggle into the crook of his neck.

“Bee?” Scotty waves a ringed hand in front of your dead stare, snapping you back to the conversation. “Burritos?”

“What? Oh, sure. I could go for a burrito.” 

“Me too!” Eddie calls, raising his free arm. The girls nod. Gareth is complaining about not being able to come. “It’s okay, bud. I’m sure your mother’s making her world famous chili tonight. We should be the jealous ones.”

That seems to satiate his sour mood a bit. He waves his goodbyes to everyone before sliding into the driver’s seat of his mom’s hatchback. The remaining seven of you split between two cars, Eddie taking Macy and her girls while you ride with Chris and Scotty. You climb into the back, letting Scotty take shotgun in Chris’s Corolla. “Bee,” Scotty pivots to face you from the front seat. “You like music, right?”

You raise an eyebrow at him. “Are there people that don’t?”

He forces a chuckle, stirring your confusion further. “I mean, like, you’re into it. Right? Chris tells me you go to all the local shows, and you’re constantly planning trips to festivals and stuff.”

You turn your gaze from Scotty to your brother, squinting at him. “Chris suddenly likes to talk about me?”

“To be fair, I asked him a lot of these questions. I was uh, wondering if you’d wanna go to Emo Night Indy with me, this Saturday?”

Emo Nite. Casual, and rumor has it really fun for people like you. You grew up listening to Paramore and My Chemical Romance, dabbling in black box hair dye in middle school, collecting rubber bracelets of your favorite bands. “Oh, that sounds like fun! I’d love to go with you guys.” 

Scotty frowns at the plurality, and looks to Chris for help. You look, too, pretending not to know what’s going on. “Actually, Beebs, I have plans that night. Band practice, and I’m sure mom will call me into the bar to work.”

You shrug, playing along. “Cool with me, that okay with you, Scotty?”

The boy nods, suddenly shy. “Works for me!” He exclaims as Scotty pulls into the Tequilas parking lot beside Eddie’s rusted hunk of metal. 

“Well, hello again, friends… and Bee.” He grins at you, triggering another straining eye roll. “What have we missed in our short time apart?”

“Scotty asked Bee out!” Chris seems to respond too quickly, and you whip your head to glare at him. What you don’t quite catch is Eddie’s expression, his teasing smile and sparkling eyes seem to fade into a grimace, but you’re too busy silently scolding your brother to catch it. 

“Oh, really?” Eddie recovers, clearing his throat. “Where to?”

“Emo Nite, this weekend.” Scotty, completely oblivious to the different glares being shot around the group, answers gleefully. 

“Oh, in the city! The girls are performing at that, aren't cha, babe?” He shakes Macy’s shoulders, and she blushes. 

“Yeah, we go on at ten. Hope you guys like punk!” Any excitement you’d had for your date seems to crash like an elevator pulley snapping, sending your heartbeat plummeting into your stomach, making you sick. 

–

“Why’d you tell him?” You berate Chris as you open the door to your house, kicking your sneakers off without bothering to untie them. You turn around to face him, crossing your arms over your chest as if you’re your own mother, scolding him for eating cookies before dinner.

“Told who? Told him what? You’re gonna have to be more specific, Bee.” He passes by you, ignoring the way you seem to simmer with rage.

“Eddie! Why’d you have to tell him I’m going on a date?”

Chris makes an ‘I dunno” noise, shrugging as he plops himself on the couch. “Didn’t think it would bother you that much. Why does it bother you?”

It’s your turn to make a noise of uncertainty. “He doesn’t need the details of my personal life, Chris. He’s your friend, not mine.”

Chris scoffs, snagging the remote from the coffee table before you can. “Whatever, sounds like you’re the one that cares too much about what he knows.

“What does that even mean?”

Chris ignores you, flipping through streaming apps before landing on the usual, the ukulele of Bob’s Burgers a comfortable background noise. Your phone buzzes, and you peel your glare away from your sibling to read it.

Scotty A.: heyy =)

You type a “hi!” back, sending it without a second thought. This will be good, you think. A welcome distraction from the chaos that’s surrounded you for the past month. Your phone buzzes again. 

Excited for Saturday! Have a good night, beautiful.

– 

“Scotty? From band class?” Robin interrogates you over the counter. You’d sat on the news of your date all day, debating on whether or not to tell your friends before it actually happens. If it even does happen.You’ve been texting all day, though, so you decide to talk through your anxiety with your friends. 

“Yeah, him. Super senior Scotty.” It’s a nickname he’d introduced himself as, one he’d embraced after his second run at senior year. 

“Forgive me if this is rude, but, why?” Steve asks from where he stands, pretending to put records away.

“Carpe diem, I guess? Why not?” 

Steve secedes to your argument, motioning in agreement. “‘S’he cute, at least?”

“He’s not hard to look at.” The back of your neck is hot as you say it. Steve points to your cheeks teasingly, but brings no more attention to your bashful state. Robin looks back and forth between the two of you, irritated with being left out of the loop. “What about Eddie?”

Your playful banter with Steve dies in your throat, as if a trapdoor has opened and swallowed you whole. “Robin, what the hell?” Steve tries to sever the tension, but it's stifling. 

“What about Eddie?” You await her response as she darts her eyes between you, and Steve over your shoulder. “I- uh,” She’s floundering, you use it.

“Did he say something to you?” You push, you need leverage. “Rob, I can give you Nancy Wheeler’s phone number right now, I just need you to tell me what you’re talking about.”

“Robin,” Steve’s voice is a warning. He catches Robin’s eyes and holds her gaze, eyes unblinking, unwavering. She loses, looking shamefully to the dull tile of the store floor. “I’m sorry, Steve. I can’t lie to her!” She looks at you, eyes glassy, lip trembling. “I don’t know the whole story, but I was eavesdropping at the bar last night.”

–

Last Night (as told by Robin)

“Hey, I gotta pee!” Robin shouts in your ear, and you nod, taking her drink back to your side of the bar. Robin is careful not to wobble as she finds her way into the bathroom. Unfortunately, it’s not until she walks past the empty urinals and into a stall that she realizes she’s in the wrong restroom. Even more unfortunately, she doesn’t get to make an escape before two sets of footsteps enter the bathroom, placing themselves at the urinals that she would have to walk by to escape. Urinals that, for some reason, face a mirror. A mirror she would risk being seen by men, in the mens’ room. She’d never live that down. 

“So, you gotta girl, S-scott?” It’s Eddie, slurring his words after another night celebrating his mentor’s return. Robin, personally, thinks Eddie is Chris’s bitch. He has yet to prove her wrong.

“Nah, man,” The second voice, presumably Scott, responds. Behind their voices, Robin has to tune out the sounds of them pissing, while simultaneously trying to silence her own stream.

“You into anyone?” Eddie prods, and Robin can’t help wondering why men have to be drunk to talk about their crushes.

“I mean, I think Bee’s kinda cute…” The voice gets shy, but Eddie doesn’t take the hint.

“Chris’s little sister?”

Silence. Presumably, he’s nodding.

“Bet I could get you in with her.” 

“Really, man?” The voice is eager. Robin thinks it’s sweet. 

“Yeah, man. I got two tickets to Emo Nite Indy. I was gonna ask her to go, but Macy got me on her guestlist.” This confuses Robin supremely. You and Eddie don’t get along, why in the world would he invite you out on what is, very clearly, a date?

“Wait, I don’t like, want to whisk her away from you or anything.” The second, decidedly much nicer guy, questions him. Their streams have stopped, and Robin leans against the door to listen as they continue. 

“Oh don’t worry, I lost my shot with her a long time ago.” Eddie doesn’t elaborate, and Scott doesn’t pry. Robin is silently pleading he pries, but to no avail. The footsteps fade from earshot, and she’s once again alone in the mens’ room. 

–

Present

You’re stunned into silence. Not a single thought is making it from your brain to your throat, instead feeling air pass between your ears, fanning the electrical fire Rob’s story has caused. 

“Rob, you broke our friend.” Steve scolds, motioning to where you’re frozen, reeling, trying to make sense of the fantastical myth your best friend has spun for you. 

"You cannot be serious." You manage to speak, but you sound unconvinced even to yourself.

“Scout’s honor. I had a couple last night, but I remember it all. Here,” She pulls her phone from her pocket, punching in the code before handing it to you. The screen is opened to a Notes entry, and you try hard not to laugh. 

S: bee’s cute

E: can get u in (??? wtf)

E: emo nite (omg fun) / (WAIT WHAT?!) / (how long has he had these?) / (THEY WENT ON SALE SIX MONTHS AGO… BEFORE CHRIS HAD HIS RELEASE DATE?! IS THAT WHY HE CAME BACK?!?!?! dkfgdkngkd 

You can’t help but snicker as the note descends from quoting what she’s hearing to reacting to the words being said. “Okay, I get it! It just, doesn’t make any sense.”

“Maybe this is his way of apologizing.” Steve offers. “Y’know, setting you up with a nice guy, to make up for not being a nice guy.”

“So what, he grew a conscience? Only took him,” You pause to mime checking a watch you’re not wearing, “six years. Bullshit. He’s got more stake in this than that.”

“Bee, you have got to stop thinking Eddie’s out to ruin your life.”

“Don’t you dare tell me what to feel, Robin. I know what I know.”

“And how many times has Chris told you that what you ‘know’ isn’t the whole goddamn story? Grow up! Let it fucking go!” The silence following her shouts is deafening in the empty record store, save for you three. “Or, if you are so desperate to prove me wrong, do it. But don’t come crying to me when the information you find doesn’t support the narrative in your fucking head.” She storms into the back room of the store marked EMPLOYEES ONLY. “I’m taking my goddamn lunch!” She calls over her shoulder.

You huff out a breath, heart slamming against your ribcage as you pivot to face Steve. He holds his hands up, an old Paramore record in one hand, the same one playing over the speakers. “Don’t look at me, baby. I’m not part of that circus.”

You can’t help but laugh, and Steve joins you in thinning the tension slightly. Robin’s words replay in your head, causing the whispers of another spiral on your heels.

--

taglist: @children-of-the-grave @five-bi-five @kellsck @faggotinie @xplrnowornever @taccobelle @micheledawn1975 @mewchiili @dreamerjj @losingmygrasponreality let me know if you'd like to be added!

[pimento-playing-hopscotch]

WIP Wednesday

Thank you for the tag, @nisbanisba @carlos-in-glasses @thisbuildinghasfeelings @henrygrass @annoyingcloudearthquake @carlossreaders @heartstringsduet 💝

This is from the new fic I'm working on, the Owen get your butt back to Austin fic -

Owen followed the tunnel until he reached a door. He opened the door and light flooded in.

The dining table shoved up against the wall.

The front door that smacked the back of the TV stand because the apartment was so small.

The hideous purple plaid couch that Owen was relieved when they could finally get rid of it.

This was it.

The first apartment they had lived in as a family of three.

He stepped inside, looking at the stuffed Cookie Monster and Bert and Ernie all lined up on the couch.

He turned and saw himself — no older than twenty-four years old — standing at the stove, frying sausages with one hand and balancing his one-year-old son on his other arm.

“I got some groceries,” the young Owen Strand hummed as he bounced his son, “some peanut butter. To last a couple of days, but I — ain’t got no speakers. Ain’t got no headphones. Ain’t got no records to play”.

“Are you really holding your son over the stove?” Owen heard her voice before he saw her. Gwyn came out of their bedroom.

Owen hadn’t seen twenty-five-year-old Gwyneth Morgan in some time. Even just wearing stockings and an open white shirt he was pretty sure was his — she still took his breath away.

“Of course not,” the young Owen said cheekily. “What kind of father would do that? I’m holding my son next to the stove”.

“Next to the stove,” Gwyn repeated as she took baby Tyler from him. “Uh huh”.

“See, that wasn’t what I thought you would object to,” the young Owen chuckled as he moved the frying pan to a different burner.

“Oh, Life during Wartime is fine,” Gwyn said. “But he’s too young for Psycho Killer. Isn’t that right, Tyler?”

“Yes, Mama,” her son nodded, gently tugging on a stray piece of his mom’s hair.

“Oh, my sweet boy,” she murmured, kissing her son’s cheeks before putting him in his high chair. “Oh, did I tell you,” Gwyn said to her husband, “my torts professor? He has a little boy two months older than Tyler; not talking at all yet!”

“Well, I can’t say I’m surprised,” the young Owen said as he handed their son his sippy cup. “Tyler’s a little genius. He’s the smartest baby on the block, I bet”. The young couple kept talking, but their voices grew quieter.

Behind them, Owen saw someone else emerge from the bedroom.

Older, but still beautiful and wearing the dress she wore to the grand re-opening of the 126 firehouse; the last time he saw her alive.

“This apartment is always smaller than I remember,” the older Gwyn said.

Owen blinked, unsure if any of this was real. “I know. I swear that hideous couch took up half the space”. He jerked his thumb at the stove. “You always got on me when I did that”.

“You’re not wrong”. Gwyn took another step closer. “I don’t know what made me more nervous; when you would hold him so close to the stove like that or when you’d feed him something without cutting it up”.

“He had teeth!” Owen protested.

“You were giving him pieces of sausage," Gwyn reminded him. “But if you didn’t pick him up, he’d just tug at your pant legs until you did. I remember that”. She stepped closer and gently cupped Owen’s face. “It's good to see you, Owen. It’s been a while”.

“It has”. Owen nodded with a tired smile. “I’ve missed you, my dearest friend”.

No pressure tagging - I tag @anewkindofme @laneybishop89 @kiankiwi @nancys-braids @everlastingday @firstprince-history-huh and anyone else who wants to do it- open tag 🫶

[mapofyourstars]

after thirty days, it's time to finally wrap up house of dadneto month! thank you so much to @house-of-dadneto for curating this month. very happy to have participated to share the love of erik and his babies.

below the cut, you will find the works and gifsets I created for the house of dadneto prompts in one place. you can also find the original posts at this tag here. additionally, if you like what you see, you can check out all my written works here as well as all my gifsets here.

primary dadneto work on ao3: takes a strong hand and a sound mind.

Edie Lehnsherr survives, and not burdened by the death of his mother, Erik's life diverges to a path still full of activism and hasty decisions but one with his babies alive and well. Though some days are harder than others, Erik learns how to teach, father, and soften, all the while his life is made that much brighter with his children by his side.

one. bonding

chapter 1: Erik’s grateful for every moment he can share with his babies, but that’s especially true when they share breakfast together.

two. time loop

chapter 2: Life picks on Erik, and he tries to pick back.

three. apology

chapter 3: Lorna practices her ability, and Erik accidentally breaks.

four. redemption

gifset: erik tasted redemption after the birth of his daughter.

five. resemblance

chapter 4: The kids find an old photo of Erik. They compare notes.

six. presumed dead

chapter 5: On a quiet morning walk, Erik, Wanda, and Lorna discover something among the brush.

seven. admiration

gifset: erik tried to keep his cool guy composure (and also not be sick), but he couldn’t hide his admiration for peter’s ability.

eight. mutation

gifset: erik and his children’s mutations

nine. forced to fight

gifset: nina forced to fight to protect her father.

ten. sanctuary

chapter 6: When the hum in her mind quiets, Lorna is reminded that she's her father's daughter.

eleven. missing scene

chapter 7: Pietro gets a taste of his own ability.

twelve. restrained

chapter 8: Wanda's abilities scare her, and Erik learns his beliefs are not always shared by others.

thirteen. vacation

chapter 9: Erik travels to Germany with his children to see his mama.

fourteen. heirloom

gifset: “What’s happened to them? Your parents?” “They were taken from me when I was a little boy.”

fifteen. sacrifice

chapter 10: A day out on the town doesn't go quite as planned.

sixteen. embrace

chapter 11: Hugs: Like snowflakes, no two are the same.

seventeen. confession

chapter 12: Pietro wants to wear a dress to the school dance.

eighteen. broken

gifset: erik loses nina

nineteen. infant

chapter 13: Found a baby and need help taking care of it? Give Erik Lehnsherr a call.

twenty. alternate universe

gifset: an alternate universe where wanda is in apocalypse

twenty one. bedrest

chapter 14: Erik couldn't possibly be sick. He never gets sick. It's just a scratchy throat. (It isn't.)

twenty two. music

chapter 15: Pietro learns that his father isn't as boring as he thought.

twenty three. five + one

gifset: the five people that needed erik and the one person that erik needed.

twenty four. head injury

chapter 16: Erik has had enough, and he doesn't care how silly he looks - it's practical.

twenty five. outsider point of view

gifset: outsider pov with peter and his mother

twenty six. asteroid m

gifset: set in the universe of takes a strong hand and a sound mind, erik tells his children a bedtime story growing up of a safe haven for mutants of all kinds, where their people can live without fear of oppression or conviction. at the suggestion of his little one, mutants choose to live on an asteroid, an idea that tickles his children and lights up even his imagination. little does erik know that, in an alternate timeline, this story is a reality featuring a man quite different from him but somehow altogether the same.

twenty seven. branding

gifset: in the universe in takes a strong hand and a sound mind, erik’s kids rank his branding choices over the years… under the read more.

twenty eight. peace

gifset: peter implores erik to choose peace.

twenty nine. memories

gifset: peter’s mother hints at some bad memories she had with magneto.

thirty. suffocating

chapter 17: Erik's eldest baby leaves the nest. He doesn't take it well.

[bella-rose29]

The Greatest Thing - Lockwood x fem!reader

requested by anon: Hi, I love the way you write! I was wondering (if requests are still open) if you could write a Lockwood x reader where reader's mother died when she was little for some reason, and by taking on a case reader and Lockwood find themselves having to fight the ghost of reader's mother ? And maybe even Lockwood calming Reader down after the mission? Feel free to change parts. (btw: sorry if English is terrible, I'm Italian, English is not my native language)

my lovely you don't need to apologise for your English, it's better than a lot of actual English people I know (myself included) <333

sorry this took me so long, but hopefully you enjoy!!

for reference, the song that's mentioned is specifically Nat King Cole's version of Nature Boy from 1948 <3

Word count: 4.2k

Warnings: swearing (only a lil), brief mentions of cancer (not explicit though), idk if there's anything else

I did just copy and paste the tag list from DTH part 9 so feel free to not read this if you don't want to! <3

It was nearly one in the morning when the telephone rang. 

This was odd, because the phone had been broken for a little over twenty years. 

It was more sentimental than anything else, and it was kept as a reminder of someone long gone, as was the typewriter that sat on the shelves next to the telephone, on top of the case it came in so that it could be admired. There was a record player too, although that was in perfect working condition, unlike the other two objects. 

The ringing of the telephone woke up the inhabitant of the bedroom, and he groggily rubbed at his eyes as he sat up and turned the light on. The glare made him wince, but when he realised the broken telephone on his shelf was ringing, his eyes shot wide open. He scrambled for the working phone on his bedside table, trying not to panic too much and failing as he punched in the numbers. The line rang three times before someone picked up, and his breathing was shaky. 

“Hello? I think there’s a ghost in my bedroom.”

~~~

“Lockwood? You awake?” Y/n pushed open the door to the library, making note of the dim light that shone under the door. Her voice was quiet, just in case he’d actually managed to fall asleep, but as soon as she stepped inside she saw him sat in his usual armchair with a book.

“Everything alright?” he asked. 

“Not really. Dad’s just phoned me.” She took the chair next to him, watching as he put a bookmark in place and held the book closed on his lap. 

“Ah, that’s who was calling.” He frowned. “You don’t sound too happy about it.”

“He thinks there’s a ghost in his room. Said the old telephone that Mum bought ages ago started ringing just now. He wants us to come and check it out as soon as we can.”

“How do we know it’s not just… someone calling?”

“It’s broken, Lockwood. Has been for ages. Pretty sure it was broken when Mum got it, but she thought it looked nice.”

“Right. Well… you know the house layout, and where things are. And if you’re not too tired… I suppose we could head over now? Only if you wanted. Your father is welcome to stay here if he wants, too.”

“Thank you, Lockwood. I don’t know that I’ll be able to sleep, not knowing Dad’s in danger. And he won’t want to go outside at this time of night anyway, not without a safe route to somewhere else. You sure you’re alright with going on a case now?”

“Of course I am, Y/n. Especially for you.” She tried not to flush too much at how sincerely he had said it and pushed out of the chair. 

“Okay then. I’ll just… go and get changed.” She was still in her pyjamas from earlier. Lockwood was, predictably, in a suit, just without the jacket and tie. She was certain they were a second skin on him now. 

“Meet me by the front door in ten? I’ll get the kit ready.”

“Sure. Don’t forget the biscuits like you did last time.”

~~~

It took five minutes of quietly moving around the attic so as not to wake Lucy for Y/n to get changed. She wasn’t entirely successful in being silent, since the floorboards creaked every two seconds and she fell over trying to get her jumper on because she got stuck inside it and didn’t see the corner of her bed, but somehow Lucy slept through it all. Y/n headed downstairs, wincing when the steps groaned under her weight, and went to find Lockwood in the basement. He was nearly done packing up the bags, and when he caught sight of her his smile was blinding. 

“You all ready to go?”

“Yeah, think so. I’ve been thinking, about what the Source could be?” she said, although her voice lifted at the end to make it sound more like she was asking him a question. Lockwood nodded, zipping up the second kit bag and handing it to her when she reached for it. “I feel like the phone is too obvious, but if it’s some sort of Poltergeist it might be a good idea to check anyway. There’s quite a lot of things that could be a Source, actually. Mum loved collecting old stuff, said it reminded her of her childhood.”

“She wasn’t an agent, was she?”

“No. No Talent. Not with a capital ‘t’ anyway. She was amazing at loads of other things though.” They were in the hallway now, grabbing their rapiers out of the stand. Lockwood shrugged on his coat. 

“What do you know about the history of the house? Any murders or deaths that could result in a Visitor?”

“No. There was Mum’s, but Dad got the place sorted out as soon as he could. DEPRAC came in and cleared the room.”

“Well, we’ll see what we can find, yeah?”

“Yeah. Thanks,” she said when he opened the front door and gestured for her to go first. Lockwood must have called a cab, because now there sat one just in front of the gate. “I told Dad to get into the kitchen and turn the table lamp on, ‘cause a couple years ago he got iron strips put in the floor, so he should be alright in there. We can get this taxi to wait for him and bring him here, right?”

“Of course. That was a smart move, both the iron strips and your suggestion. We’ll make the kitchen our main retreat, then.”

Ten minutes later they were pulling up outside her childhood home, and as soon as the taxi stopped Y/n was opening the door and rushing to greet her dad. Lockwood was talking to the driver, paying him for the journey they’d just taken and asking if he might stay a little longer to take a passenger back to 35 Portland Row. 

“Hi, Dad, you alright?” Y/n breathed, wrapping her arms around her father. 

“Been better, love. I’m glad you and your boyfriend are here though.”

“He’s not my boyfriend, Dad,” she said, feeling heat creep up her neck. “Lockwood’s my boss.”

“I just thought that since you talk about him all the time, y’know? Lockwood this and Lockwood that.”

“I’m gonna walk away now, I think. Have fun with the ghost!” she joked, knowing that she would never leave her father in a house where there was a possible haunting. “We, uh… we thought it might be best if you went to Portland Row for tonight while we work here. It’s a standard procedure to not have the clients in the house, but normally they’ve got somewhere to go and a bit more notice, and Lockwood said you can take his bed if you wanted. We have also got a sofa, but it’s not nearly as comfortable as a bed.”

“Alright, love. You’ll be alright, just the two of you?”

“Yeah.”

“I take it he’s keeping that cab for me?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay then. I’ll see you in the morning, love.” He must have known that she would ask him to leave the house because he reached behind him and picked up a bag, hoisting it over his shoulder and planting a quick kiss on her cheek. 

“Bye, Dad!”

She watched as he sent a small wave over his shoulder, shaking Lockwood by the hand and thanking him for the offer of a place to stay, and then he was getting in the taxi and going back the way that she and Lockwood had come from. 

Lockwood had the keys to the house in his hand, and before he unlocked the front door (her father had locked it when he’d seen the taxi approach) he turned back. “Are you sure you’ll be alright?”

“I can do this, Lockwood. For my Dad. Besides, if something’s only just surfacing now from one of the antiques, it can’t be too bad can it? I mean, it didn’t hurt my dad.”

~~~

As it turned out, it was quite bad. 

Not in a holy-shit-this-ghost-will-kill-us way, but more in a holy-shit-why-does-this-house-feel-worse-than-a-graveyard-at-night? way. 

Y/n had grown up in this house, had only really moved out two years ago, and she had never once felt unsafe or uneasy. Walking around it now, though, doing initial readings of sensations and temperature, she wondered how her father had managed to stay positive. Most things she just got echoes of her own childhood, her laughter as she ran through the halls while her parents chased her when she was three, baking in the kitchen and licking the bowl when she was five, crying when she tripped and slid down the last couple of steps on the stairs and grazed her knee at the bottom, and her mother pressing kisses to her hair and a plaster to her tiny injury when she was six. But underneath it all there was a malaise, something unsettling that seeped into Y/n and Lockwood’s bones and made them cautious. 

“Does it normally feel like this?” he asked when they made it to the top of the stairs and around most of the rooms, one hand on his rapier hilt. They hadn’t drawn their weapons yet, but they knew it was only a matter of time. 

“No. Dad would have said something.” The thermometer beeped, alerting them of a drop in temperature. Lockwood checked it where it sat attached to his belt. 

“Minus two. It was three degrees just now.” They stood in silence on the landing, both looking at the thermometer. “Well, only one door left, I suppose. Do you want to do it or should I?”

“I’ll do it.” She made her way to the door of her parents’ bedroom and took a shaky breath before placing her hand on the doorknob. Immediately a rush of memories hit her, from when her parents first moved in after their marriage, to the day she was born in that room, to the countless times Y/n had crept in in the night because she’d had a bad dream, up to the point when her mother had last touched the handle. It went further, but the force of the memory of her mother made her push the door open and step over the threshold. 

Lockwood was right behind her, and she heard him draw in a breath and reach into his coat for his sunglasses. Y/n whipped around to look at him just as he pushed them over his eyes, catching the last of his squint while he warily studied the bed. “Why are you putting those on?”  she asked, not liking the wobble that accompanied it. 

“Death glow on the bed. Are…” he hesitated for a moment, and she imagined his eyes darting between her and the bed behind her. “Are you absolutely sure that your father got the house cleaned out?” His voice was soft, like he was trying to not agitate her too much, but she got defensive anyway. 

“Yes. He wouldn’t lie about something like that, not when he had a six year old living in a possibly haunted house!”

“But… and I’m not doubting you, or your father, I just need to know, were you here when the house got cleaned out after your mother passed?”

“No, Dad sent me to my friend’s house. He said it wouldn’t be good for us to be in the house while they were working.”

“So you never actually saw people cleaning out this place?” She froze, catching on to what Lockwood was getting at. 

“No,” she whispered, turning to look back at the bed. Her mother had died in it over ten years ago from untreated cancer, completely unexpectedly. She’d gone peacefully at least, in her sleep, but it had broken the two members of the family that had been left behind. Her father had told her that he’d call DEPRAC and get the house cleaned out, to keep the two of them safe, but now as she grabbed a hold of the doorknob again she realised there was no memory of people coming in to do that job. “Shit. Shit shit shit shit.”

“Hey,” Lockwood said, sunglasses still perched on his nose. “It’s alright. We’re agents, and we’re Lockwood and Co. I know… I know this won’t be easy, Y/n/n, but we can do this. You can do this. Just breathe in, and back out. Good. Right. Have a think: what in here could be the Source? Hey, focus, Y/n.” His tone grew a little harsher as he grabbed her shoulders, pulling her away from the door. 

“Why wouldn’t he clean the house?” Her breath was coming too quickly now, and her eyes couldn’t settle on any one thing. “Why, Lockwood? Why wouldn’t he do it?”

“Because sometimes we love someone too much to have them gone forever.” Her eyes finally stopped moving around, instead meeting his and making her draw in a breath at the vulnerability in his eyes. His voice had been rough with emotion, and immediately she thought of the door on the landing back at 35 Portland Row. As quickly as he had opened up, his walls had snapped back into place, and he was leaning back and smiling softly at her. “Let’s try not to focus on that too much, yeah? Maybe the phone?” As though he had summoned it, the old telephone on the shelf started ringing as soon as he finished talking. “Okay… that was weird.”

“It’s not even got wires attached to it,” Y/n breathed. 

“Visitor is definitely a Poltergeist then. There’s no apparition which is good, because no ghost-touch. That’s also bad though. No way of really knowing what the Source could be.” She tuned Lockwood out, knowing that he would just be talking himself through the situation they were in, and kept on staring at the telephone. It hadn’t stopped ringing. 

Music suddenly started blaring out of the record player, despite there not being any record to play. It was a song that Y/n recognised, although she couldn’t remember where from. 

“Is that… is that ‘Nature Boy’?” Lockwood asked, glancing incredulously at the record player. 

“Oh my god. Yeah. It was Mum’s favourite song, specifically this version.” Her mother would often be found with it playing on the record player in the study downstairs, and she’d told Y/n the story behind it a million times. She’d been adamant that Y/n never forget the words, and now as it played she knew it was her mother haunting this room. 

“I think it’s broken,” Lockwood said when the song skipped back to repeat the last section of the song. 

“The greatest thing…”

“No, it’s not. Maybe it’s the record player? Maybe that’s the Source?” The music stopped, and she knew she was wrong. “Okay… so the telephone is the Source?” At once the music started again, but from a different point. 

“But very wise…”

“Is… is your mother helping us?” 

“I think so.” 

“… Why?”

“Maybe she just wants to move on?”

“But very wise…”

“Okay this is freaking me out a little bit now,” she said, moving over to the telephone. It stopped ringing when she got close enough to reach out and touch it, and she glanced at Lockwood. “Silver net?” He wordlessly passed her one, his sunglasses still obscuring his eyes. His face was impassive and she couldn’t figure out what he was thinking, but he was focused on the record player. It had continued playing from where her mother’s ghost had skipped back to help them, and was finishing up the last lines of the song. 

“The greatest thing… you’ll ever learn… is just to love… and be loved… in return…”

The room became silent after that, and both Lockwood and Y/n stood staring at the record player. Nothing moved until Y/n finally broke out of whatever world she had disappeared into, slowly placing the silver net over the telephone and wrapping it carefully. At once the temperature lifted, and just before she had finished containing the Source of her mother’s ghost she heard a sigh in the air, as though someone was finally being allowed some peace. 

“We should head over to the furnaces,” Lockwood finally said. “Unless you wanted to put it in a silver glass case?”

“I’ll talk to Dad about it in the morning.”

“Alright. Here, let me…” he stepped over and gently removed the telephone from her hands. “Why don’t you go and sort out the kitchen, get all our things together? I’ll get a taxi for us.” Y/n nodded, not taking her eyes off of the bundle in his arms. “Y/n?”

“Hmm?” She was unfocused, untethered to this world, and his voice was muffled. She vaguely noted Lockwood putting the Source down and coming closer to her, and then he was hugging her tightly, pressing her into his chest and his lips to her head when she drew in a shaky breath and sobbed. 

“It’s alright. It’s alright.”

She wasn’t sure how long they were there for, her crying into his dress shirt and him rubbing her back and whispering softly to her, but by the time she pulled back, her sobs reduced to slight hitches in her breath, her throat was sore and her eyes puffy. “Thank you.”

“Anytime, Y/n.”

~~~

It was nearly three in the morning when the telephone rang. 

This wasn’t odd, because this time it was Lockwood phoning Portland Row to let them know that the ghost had been dealt with, and he and Y/n were coming back. 

Y/n had remained silent for the duration of the taxi ride back to 35 Portland Row, staring out the window with her eyes looking at something that Lockwood couldn’t see. He knew what it was like, to be in her position, but he had no idea how to comfort her other than just being here. She’d gripped him earlier, when they were hugging, like she thought he might be the next one to leave. It had broken his heart and made it swell at the same time that she had held him so tightly, but now he was left to wonder how else he might help. 

She was still silent when they walked through the front door. 

Her father came out of the living room to greet them, and Y/n had frozen, rapier mid-air while she went to put it away in the umbrella stand. Lockwood had put his own rapier away, and the sound made her snap out of whatever trance she had been in and finish her previous action before taking one last look at her father and running upstairs. Lockwood shrugged off his long coat, hanging it on the stand. 

“It was her mother,” he said, looking at the stairs instead of at the man he was talking to. “I think she’s upset that you lied to her, about clearing out the house.”

“I couldn’t-” he broke off, coughing slightly to clear his throat when emotion clogged it up. “I couldn’t bring myself to do it.”

“I know.” He could barely look at that door on the landing most of the time. He turned to face Y/n’s father. “But you made that house unsafe. You got lucky. She was a Poltergeist, but completely unaggressive like they normally are. Very lucky, in fact, because there was no chance of you being ghost-touched. But still, you should have told her.” The man nodded, tears starting to fall on his cheeks. 

“I suppose you put the Source in the furnaces then?”

“No, actually. I asked Y/n what she wanted to do, and she said she’d talk to you. You could keep it, so long as it was in a sealed silver glass box. You wouldn’t have to lose her again.”

“That would be great, thank you. Is it safe here overnight?”

“I’ll put it in the storeroom downstairs,” Lockwood smiled, one of his classic customer service smiles, and moved towards the kitchen. “Whereabouts did you decide to sleep in the end? The living room?”

“Yeah.”

“Alright. Well, goodnight, sir.”

“You’re a good lad, Mr. Lockwood. I can see why my Y/n likes you so much. Goodnight,” he waved, disappearing into the living room and closing the door behind him. Lockwood stood in the hallway, Source still wrapped in the silver net, and tried not to blush too much at the way those words had been said. 

~~~

“What are you doing in here?”

Y/n jumped at the sound of Lockwood’s voice, and immediately felt a little guilty for intruding on his personal space. “Sorry,” she muttered. “I didn’t want to wake Lucy up, ‘cause she hasn’t been sleeping well recently, so I came in here. Sorry.”

“That’s alright.” He went to grab his pyjamas, then did a double-take. “Is that my shirt?”

“Oh.” She looked down and flushed. “I didn’t… I forgot that by not going up to the attic I wouldn’t have anything to sleep in, so… yeah.”

“Oh.” 

She wished he would say more, because his gaze was as heavy as the silence that settled over them after that single syllable. 

“Lockwood?”

A pause. “Yeah?”

“I can leave-”

“No!” He swallowed thickly, then repeated himself. “No. I mean, no point waking Lucy up, is there? I’ll be back in a bit, just… going to go get changed.” She watched him leave, and then five minutes later she watched him come back. 

“You alright?”

“Yeah,” he answered, sounding anything but. He looked… nervous? Why the hell was he nervous? “You?”

“I’m alright.” She tried not to laugh, settling for an amused smile instead, and waited for him to get into bed next to her and turn off the light. Once it was dark (or as dark as it could be with the ghost lamp outside the window), she heard him shuffle around in his bed so that he was facing her. The outline of his face was barely visible, but it was enough that she could make out where his eyes were, and where his faint smile was. “Lockwood?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you. For earlier.”

“I already told you, anytime.” They went quiet, just enjoying the comfort of Lockwood’s bedroom. “I talked to your dad, by the way. He said he didn’t want to lose her again, so I’ve offered to sort out a case for the phone in the morning. I also told him off for lying to you, which terrified me, because your dad is not a small man.” Y/n let out a snort at the last part, and she saw the faint light from outside light up Lockwood’s teeth as he grinned. 

“You didn’t have to do that.”

“I did. Back at the house, you were… well, I’m not really sure what you were. But you weren’t you, and it scared me. It’s like you went somewhere else, Y/n. I just can’t lose you, is all.”

“Oh.” Now it was her turn to not say much, and she could feel him fidgeting. 

“Your dad said something. About you.”

“What? What did he say?” Her heart was beating faster, not knowing if he’d said something good or bad. 

“He said that you like me a lot.” Now her heart was thumping for a different reason. 

“Well, yeah. It’s difficult not to like you, Lockwood, you’re a very likeable person, you know? Very-”

“Why are you nervous?”

“What?”

“You’re talking really fast. You do that when you’re nervous. Why are you nervous?” Damn him for knowing her so well. 

“Uh… I just… I don’t know.” She did know, but how could she admit to her boss that she had the biggest crush on him while they were lying in his bed together?

“Sorry. I shouldn’t have- it just sounded like he meant it in a… in a like like way.” She took a deep breath, and decided to bite the bullet. At least if it was dark she couldn’t see his face when he rejected her. 

“He did. I… I’ve liked you for a while, actually.” There was no response, and suddenly it all seemed like a terrible idea. “Lockwood?”

“How long?” There was no discernible emotion in his voice. 

“About two years?”

“So… since you got here?”

“Yeah, basically.”

“You’re telling me,” he started, frustration seeping through, and she shrunk in on herself a little. “You’re telling me that we could have been together this entire time?!”

“Yeah, I guess so. Wait,” she frowned, “wait what did you just say?”

“It took us removing your mother’s Source from your childhood home and your father telling me that you really like me for this to happen?!”

“… Yeah?” She heard him bring his hands up to his face and groan, and then heard him shuffle around again. A moment later his hand was touching hers, tentatively at first, then lacing his fingers through hers and tugging her closer to him when he realised he’d found her. She ended up curled into his side, her head in the crook of his neck, and his arms wrapped around her torso under the duvet. 

“Well I know you’re free after we wake up, so right after we get the glass case sorted out I’m taking you out for food.”

“Like a date?”

“Exactly like that.”

It wasn’t long after that that the pair of them fell asleep, and before she drifted off in Lockwood’s arms, she couldn’t help but think how her mother had been right about loving and being loved, and how it was the greatest thing in the world. 

tag list: @ahead-fullofdreams, @aislinrayne, @anathemaloren, @anthgoldenhrry, @augustisintheair, @avdiobliss, @aysha4life, @bobbys-not-that-small, @briar-rose23, @curseofhecate, @dangelnleif, @edible-rat-vomit, @el-de-phi, @ell0ra-br3kk3r, @ettadear, @fearlessmoony, @fudosl, @idkbubs, @imaginebeingmentallystable, @informedimagining, @karensirkobabes, @lady-ashfade, @light-23, @locklyebrainrot, @locklyle1kanij, @locknco, @magicandrosewaters, @mentallyillsodapop, @mischivana, @mitskiswift99, @mrsklockwood, @mrsyixingunicorn10, @newbooksmell777, @no-morning-glories, @novelizt, @phlooper, @ran23sblog, @reggiepeterss, @simrah1012, @somethingrandomwatzit, @star-of-velaris, @superpositvecloudshipper, @t2sh0, @taygrls, @tournesol77, @whistle1whistle, @whenselenefallsinlove, @wordsarelife, @y0urm0m12, @zoom1374, @asyouwish-fromcabin3, @magicandrosewaters

[yatori-morgana]

I drew some TWST OCs but as goobers because a full reference makes me cringe rn (commitment hard)

Info below

I'll talk about the snake twins first.

While it may be obvious to us, Lamen is a girl. She's pretending to be a boy, though, and she does a damn good job acting the part, so people just assume she's a feminine guy. To each their own, right? Lamen isn't her actual name, but I haven't come up with her real name yet. It's obvious based off of "lamia" which are an all female mythological snake race. Pophis is named after Apophis from Egyptian mythology. Special thanks to @kimdourden for helping me come up with their names!!

Pophis

Age: 19

Birthday: sometime in November idk

Height: 5'7"

Homeland: Scalding Sands

Dorm: Scarabia

Year: second year (sophomore)

Class: 2-C (with Jamil)

Club: Film Studies (works on sets)

Best Subject: Art

Favorite Food: cake pops

Least Favorite Food: idk yet lol

Hobby: Painting

?? "Lamen"

Age: 19

Birthday: sometime in November idk

Height: 5'9"

Homeland: Scalding Sands

Dorm: Scarabia

Year: second year (sophomore)

Class: 2-E (with Riddle and Jade)

Club: haven't decided; something sporty

Favorite Food: prolly something spicy idk

Least Favorite Food: idk yet lol

Hobby: STILL UNDECIDED GRR

Relationships

Azul Ashengrotto

Pophis and Lamen do not appreciate this man at all. They wish he'd just leave Jamil alone, but that's not happening anytime soon. Lamen would throw tomatoes at him if it wouldn't get her in trouble.

Jade and Floyd Leech

0/10 Pophis and Lamen want fried unagi.

Kalim Al-Asim

Pophis: He's very fond of his housewarden, happy to help out. Kalim loves everyone, so the feeling is mutual.

Lamen: She wishes he'd take things more seriously, but she still loves her housewarden.

Jamil Viper

Pophis and Lamen are Jamil's biggest cheerleaders. They really look up to him and try to help when they can, but they also don't want to be invasive. Basically, if they're in the area, they're helping. They also call him an honorary snake, and he doesn't really know how to feel about that.

Vil Schoenheit

Pophis: He respects his club leader, but he wishes Vil would lay off a bit.

Epel Felmier

Pophis: Epel helps out with the Film Studies Club sometimes (against his will,) and Pophis loves his rough and tumble personality since it reminds him of his sister. Pophis tries to help ease Epel's burden when Epel comes to club meetings.

Lamen: She does not know this man, but based on what she's heard from her brother, he seems fun.

Rook Hunt

Pophis: He likes Rook's quirkiness, but he can only take so much of it at a time. He's also grateful for Rook helping the club so diligently.

Lamen: "Leave my brother alone, you weirdo!! You're freaking me out!!"

Idia Shroud

Pophis: He's never met Idia before, but Ortho makes his big brother sound so cool! But the rumors say he's a loser… Pophis doesn't know what to think.

Ortho Shroud

Pophis: He loves hanging out with Ortho in Film Studies!! Ortho has so much knowledge to share, and he's such a sweetheart! Pophis is friendly and gentle with him, but he doesn't treat Ortho like a baby. They have a lot of fun together. :)

When Lamen found out three girls started attending NRC without having to hide being women… Hoo boi, she was not happy. So the headmage told her she has to play a part for her safety (and so Crowley doesn't have to deal with the drama,) but these ladies in Ramshackle don't have to?! No, absolutely not. From then on, Lamen stopped posing as a boy, shocking the people around her, but she wasn't going to be something she wasn't. It was stifling! She still goes by Lamen, though, since she doesn't want to trip people up too much.

By the way, the women in question are me/Yatori, my sister/Peppermint, of whom I haven't posted because I JUST got perms to, and @kimdourden (get double tagged, fool /lh)

Pophis and Lamen have one claim to fame. Sort of, rather, as people don't know they started it.

Shipping wars.

Naturally, that's normal in fandom, but we're talking about real people. Campus celebrities. The Ramshackle girls. Three women showed up and started getting involved in major events? In an all-guys school?? (Never mind Lamen, haha.) And they like men? THERE'S GOTTA BE ROMANCE!! IT'S A CLICHÉ FOR A REASON!! (They need to chill.)

Pophis: I'm telling you, Jamil is definitely in love with the Prefect.

Lamen: The Ramshackle prefect? No way, he's definitely getting with that Yatori chick.

Pophis: They're oil and water, it'll never work!

Lamen: OPPOSITES ATTRACT!!

Pophis: NOT ALWAYS.

(They just want their idol to be happy.)

Lamen: Peppermint and Jade go into a room together, and someone's leaving pregnant. And it's not Peppermint.

Pophis: Dude, I just got here. Can you not?

(Lamen's the freaky one.)

Lamen: Stupid Azul and the prefect.

Pophis: Stop.

Lamen: I'm cooking, and you know it.

Pophis: Whatever you're cooking, no one's gonna eat it.

I should make a list of their OTPs…

Anyway, enough about them.

Time to talk about my favorite son.

Hugh Moore

His name…is a pun. On humor. You can already guess what he's about. Hugh is a character I've been wanting to make since before getting into TWST, but…he's perfect here. Absolutely perfect.

Hugh, my beloved son.

He's an absolute goober. Jokes are his thing. Puns, dad jokes, all of it. Some of them are well-thought out. Others, not so much. He is chaos incarnate in that he does not care people groan when he shows up, that people don't think he's funny — he keeps on keepin' on.

Hugh Moore

Age: 22

Birthday: April 1

Height: 5'11"

Homeland: Queendom of Roses

Dorm: Ignihyde

Year: second year (sophomore)

Class: 2-D (with Floyd)

Club: Science Club

Favorite Food: mixed M&Ms, Skittles, and Reese's pieces

Least Favorite Food: avacadoes

Hobby: collecting stickers

Relationships

Riddle Rosehearts

Joint classes are Hell. Riddle can't believe Hugh came from the Queendom!! (He's the chaos of Wonderland, shh.) Hugh is so unhinged that Riddle can't even begin to tame him. It's off with Hugh's head more times than anyone cares to count. Hugh thinks Riddle is a cool little laddie, though.

Cater Diamond

They hang out in Pop Music Club a lot even though Hugh isn't a member. (More below.) Hugh is 'cammable and hilarious, but he should dial it back a smidge. At least, that's what Cater thinks. They have lots of fun!

Trey Clover

Trey doesn't mind Hugh, but he does ask that Hugh tone it down when people are experimenting. Someone could get hurt. Hugh complies because he's here to have fun, not hurt others. Trey is amused by some of Hugh's jokes and definitely likes dad jokes, so they get along well. They also grow their plants together and take care of each other's when one can't.

Ruggie Bucchi

As second years, they interact sometimes, but Ruggie has mixed feelings. On one hand, Hugh is funny, and Ruggie participated in the shenanigans. On the other hand, Hugh is annoying, and Ruggie wants him to go away. Though, as long as Hugh doesn't interfere with Ruggie's work, Ruggie figures it's fine. But he never gave permission for Hugh to call him a little yeen!! Not just anybody can do that!!

Azul Ashengrotto

This is one person Azul doesn't want contractually obligated to do anything for him. Please, just go away. And his fish jokes aren't even funny! Why isn't he focusing on his classwork more? Great, not another scene in the Lounge. Uuughhh, he's such a headache. (Hugh has a positive opinion of most people, and since Azul typically keeps his distance, Hugh has his blanket opinion of Azul.)

Jade Leech

Jade thinks Hugh is amusing. When Hugh's jokes land, they land HARD, and Jade thinks about them for days, snickering behind his hand when he thinks no one is looking. Sometimes Jade jokes back, but other times, he remains curt. They're closer than acquaintances, but they aren't really friends, in a sort of Limbo. Jade does enjoy watching the chaos, though, as always.

Floyd Leech

Floyd. Ohh, poor Floyd. See, Floyd loves chaos — but not this chaos. He likes causing it, not being on the other end of it. He desperately wants to squeeze Hugh until he pops, but sometimes, Hugh is actually kind of funny. When they're in on the hijinks together, Floyd has lots of fun, but when they're not, Hugh may have to run for his life Benny Hill style. It's all fun and games for Hugh, though, so he doesn't mind.

Floyd calls Hugh Clownfish/Clownfishie for obvious reasons but also because Hugh loves painting himself in bright colors. And because Floyd has eaten plenty of clownfish, and he swears he'll get Hugh eventually. (He won't.)

…They even have class together, the poor eel.

Kalim Al-Asim

BESTIE BESTIE BESTIE BESTIE BESTIE!!!

Jamil Viper

Please, Sevens, one day of peace… (Hugh respects Jamil and tries not to troll him too much.)

Rook Hunt

Goobers for life!! Hugh loves hanging out with a fellow quirked up white boy, though he does have his limits. Most people can only handle Rook in doses, after all.

Rook calls Hugh Monsieur Pierrot.

Idia Shroud

Ohh, poor Idia. He has it worse than Floyd. Most of Ignihyde's students are introverts, nerds, geeks, and cowards, but Hugh is anything but. He's loud, he's persistent, and he's definitely the final boss. Idia can't handle being around this guy for a second! And he's supposed to wrangle him? Oh noo…

Idia needs a recharge period after being in the same room as Hugh, and it's a long recharge.

Ortho Shroud

Hugh Moore is fun!! He gives Ortho stickers and has lots of jokes to tell!! He's so nice. :)

Silver Vanrouge

Hugh is a nice guy. :)

Silver is a nice guy. :)

Lilia Vanrouge

BESTIES BESTIES BESTIES BESTIES!!! Lilia has dad jokes galore, and they bounce off each other perfectly. You could even say Lilia is Hugh's closest friend. Hugh loves Lilia's screamo metal, and he tries to cheer louder than Lilia performs. They both have sore throats the next day. Their friendship is very wholesome, please don't separate them. (Book 7 looms in the distance.)

Hugh is fun-loving and carefree. He sees humor as a form of self expression, and he wants to make people smile. If the crowd's tough, he'll move on to another one or maybe change his material.

This love for jokes does have a downside other than people dreading his arrival — he sometimes seems to not take things seriously. He also uses humor as a coping mechanism, so while he's not often stressed, if something happens, he appears flippant. The more anxious or scared he gets, the faster he talks, the darker his jokes get, and the more he gets tongue-tied. More of his jokes fall flat, even if he manages to deliver them properly. When he's completely silent, you know something is deathly wrong.

Hugh's humor is typically very family-friendly, but if he knows his crowd, he might shift to something a little darker or more risque, though he never goes very far. He only cusses when he thinks it'll actually add to the comedy.

Hugh loves bright colors. They're fun and eye-catching, just the way he likes things. He excels at color-changing magic, and he often employs it to change his look when he's feeling the need for a makeover. His shoes, hair highlights, anything and everything. He'll change their patterns, though colorful camouflage or otherwise splotchy patterns are his personal favorites.

His ears are not pierced. He wears clips and is especially fond of rose gold.

Hugh's hair clips and facial stickers change daily, and he tries not to wear the same combination twice. He also enjoys decorating all of his belongings with stickers, and when he likes someone, he gives them a sticker.

When Hugh matches his highlights with someone else's hair, whether theirs is natural or not, he calls twinsies. Floyd hates this, even if they're just inverses. It's too close. Jade finds it hilarious, and Lilia adores it. Cater just has to take a picture when Hugh and Lilia match, and Kalim loves photobombing.

Hugh didn't choose the Pop Music Club because he passion lay elsewhere — baking. There was no club specifically like that, so he chose the Science Club, much like Trey. He loves baking brightly colored sweets, things pleasing to the eye and comforting. Pastels, vibrant hues, rich flavors, and beautiful presentation. It's an art form, and he's an appreciator of art. Rook praises Hugh's baking to no end, along with Trey's. He insists they bake together more often to create culinary masterpieces the likes of which even the Great Seven would marvel at. Rook is, uh, passionate about their baking, too…

When it comes to Hugh's relationships with my OCs, sona, and sister's sona, it's fairly simple.

Fang

Fang wants Hugh dead. Fang hates corny jokes, and he hates when people don't take things seriously, so of course Hugh is his sworn enemy. Hugh likes teasing him because he knows Fang can't do anything about it — Yatori wouldn't let him.

Thorne

Thorne thought Hugh was funny. Then it got old. Fast. Thorne tries to avoid Hugh, wanting to dodge the headache, but his attempts, surprisingly, often fail. For someone so good at hunting, stalking, and hiding, he sure can't seem to escape the inevitability of Hugh Moore. Er, humor.

Yatori/myself

I. LOVE. THIS. MAN. He's a total riot, even when his jokes don't land and I feel the need to cuff him upside the head. We're buddies.

Peppermint/my sister

She likes him well enough. :) He's a bit much sometimes, but he's fun to be around, and she loves causing a little chaos with him. (Me too.) She taught him about the Gremon, and he loves it. (Save us.)

Some Hugh things I was talking to @kimdourden about. :) (TRIPLE TAGGED MWAHAHAHA)

(Jawfish is Fang.)

That. Was. A long ass post. If you stayed with me to the end, thanks so much! I appreciate it more than you know. (⁠.⁠ ⁠❛⁠ ⁠ᴗ⁠ ⁠❛⁠.⁠)

Have a wonderful day/night!!

[triplexdoublex]

Chlorine and Nicotine

Pairing: Jaden Hossler x Reader

Warnings/tags: Smut , Age Gap (reader is in her 30’s) tipsy hookup (consent implied) mentions of prior divorce, pregnancy, c section and children. Body image issues /self conscious reader . Mention of coopers death/fentanyl poisoning.

A/N: 5.5k words! This one’s for the self conscious and tired mamas on this app. Go find yourself a Jaden lol

You and your two other friends, Ashley and Liz, had planned the perfect getaway to celebrate your messy divorce being finalized: A child-free, 7 day, all-inclusive, 21+ cruise to the Bahamas. Tickets were purchased, excursions were selected, trustworthy babysitters were hired and bags were packed, there’s only one thing you all forgot…

“Is it just me or are we like the oldest ones here?” You ask your friends, looking around as you all board the cruise ship.

“Yeah, I noticed that too— seems like mostly college kids for some reason?” Liz responds.

Just then you all notice the banner on the side of the ship ‘Spring Break 2023’!

The three of you, having been out of school for close to two decades already, had completely forgotten this week was usually spring break.

“Ugh,” Ashley groans, “I can’t believe we forgot. I was hoping we could all get some much needed rest and a full night's sleep this week without our kids, not be kept up by a bunch of frat boys and sorority girls partying.”

“Hey, you know what? As long as I’m with you guys I’m sure we’ll still have a great time, even if they do keep us up. Besides you know the saying ‘if you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em. When was the last time any of us got to let loose and party a little?” You reply.

“True,”

“Yeah, you’re right,” your friends answer in unison.

“Ok,well now that that’s settled, first order of business is finding our cabin, changing into our bikinis, and working on our tans while we sip margaritas pool side.” You instruct. “Let’s go!”

**********

“Whooof!” You exhale. “I’m getting hot. I’m gonna go take a dip in the pool and cool off real quick. I’ll be right back.” You head into the pool.

“Ash, do you hear that? I think those guys next to us on the right are talking about Y/N. Listen,” Liz says, keeping her voice low..

“— yeah the one in the yellow floral two piece… right there … she just got into the pool… she’s a total MILF bro—“

“Okay, I’m back, mmmn that cold water was refreshing. Did I miss anything?” You joke, knowing you were only gone for a minute.

“You did actually,” Ashley speaks in a whisper “Apparently you’re a Milf!” Liz adds.

“Says who!?” You laugh.

“Shhhh! Liz warns. “That little cutie right over there,” She nods in his direction. “The one in the black swim trunks.”

Descretly, you turn to see who your friends are talking about.

“Oh my god, I’m pretty sure I have jeans in my closet older than him! You scoff before taking another look. “I mean… he is pretty cute though— solid body, lots of tattoos.

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure you actually do,” Ashley laughs. Which reminds me we need to go shopping and update that wardrobe of yours, I haven’t seen you in anything but leggings for the past 6 years.”

“Ugh I know! It’s because nothing fits! It’s been 6 years since I had the twins and I’m still not back to my pre-baby weight,” you sulk. “Plus I’ve been so busy taking care of them and putting them first, I haven’t even had time to think about me. And now with the divorce and paying my lawyer— money’s tight. If it wasn’t for you guys paying my share of this trip, I wouldn’t have been able to go, and lord knows I need the break. I can’t thank you guys enough.”

“Aww you’re so welcome,” Liz hugs you.

“You deserve it,” Ashley says, patting your shoulder.

“Sorry, I’m being a negative Nancy. Fuck all our problems! We’re here to escape them and have fun!” You state. “Anyone else getting hungry, I could totally go for a burger?”

**********

At night, the pool area transforms into somewhat of a night club, with drinks, dancing, swimming and fun events— tonight’s is a singles lap dance competition.

“Good Evening,cruisers!!! The lap dance competition is about to begin,” the event organizer announces. “I need three single people to volunteer to receive a lap dance, raise your hand if your single and would like to receive a lap,” he shouts loud and enthusiastically as if announcing a wrestling match.

“Oh my god y/n! You should totally do it!” Ashley squeals, trying to raise your hand for you.

“No way, are you crazy?” You laugh pulling your hand back down.

“C’mon y/n, you’re single now , and when was the last time you had a hott guy on top of you?”

“Not within the last eight years, I know that much!” Liz sasses, wide-eyed taking a sip of her drink, and making you spit out yours.

“Fair enough,” you cough out after practically choking. “Fine I’ll do it,” you agree,the liquid courage you’ve been sipping on, helping to release your inhibitions.

“Alright, I just need one more volunteer!”

You adjust your bathing suit and raise your hand.

“ Ok pretty lady, c’mon up,” the DJ calls out. You head up onto the stage, your friends laughing, screaming and cheering you on. “Now I’m gonna need some volunteers to give the lap dances. Let’s start with this pretty lady right here,” the DJ motions to you. “Who wants to give this beautiful woman a lap dance?”

You look out into the crowd watching as a few hands go up. One in particular catches you eye, and you try to place why he looks slightly familiar, and then it hits you; it’s the young guy your friends overheard calling you a MILF earlier in the day.

“Alright, take your pick,” the DJ tells you.

“Him—the one with the dark hair and tattoos,” you point into the audience, before taking a seat on the folding chair on stage.

“You heard her, my man, c’mon up,” the DJ calls him to the stage.

He stands in front of you wearing his black swim trunks from earlier but is now also sporting a white tank top and a forward facing baseball cap. You can feel his eyes looking down at you, checking you out while waiting for the other contestants to choose their lap dance partner.

“Let’s get it started!” the DJ announces. “At the end of the song, y’all are gonna help me decide the winner,” he says, speaking to the audience. “Let’s gooo!!”

Sam Smith’s ‘Unholy’ starts bumping from the speakers and your tattooed partner throws his head back in a brief laugh at the song choice, before locking eyes with you. He wastes no time getting close; stepping forward so that both of your legs are sandwiched between his wide stance. With one hand on your shoulder he begins rolling his body in your lap, his free hand quickly grabbing his hat and turning it backwards so the brim doesn’t hinder his view of you. He glides that same hand down his torso over his white tank to its hem, bunches the material in his hand and slides it up, exposing his perfectly toned abs. You smirk, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth at the sight. He removes his hand from your shoulder and uses both hands to peel his tank off completely, tossing it down on the stage. Then he slides his thumbs into the waistband of his swim trunks purposely lowering them, his prominent V-lines on full display, along with a fuzzy line of hair descending from his navel. Your eyes follow the trail down until it meets a small patch just barely visible peeking out the top of his swim trunks. Your mind wanders, imaging what’s below—imaging what he’s working with. The trance you’re in is broken when he places one of your hands flat on his chest, inviting you to touch him while he moves in your lap. You let your hand glide down over the topography of his body, your fingertips exploring the hills and valleys of muscle as you go, stopping when your hand reaches the horizon where flesh meets material, even though your hand craves to continue its descent. As if he can read your mind, he pushes your hand lower, pressing his half hard bulge against your palm as he rolls his hips insync with the last ‘unholy’ of the song before it ends.

“Alright it’s time to vote. Let me hear you give it up for couple number one,” the DJ instructs. The audience claps, cheers and hoots. “Alright, a alright, now make some noise for couple number two.” A slightly louder roar of cheer and applause echoes under the night sky. Your sexy partner stands behind you with his hands on your shoulders as you both await your turn.“And last but not least couple number three.” The crowd goes wild with thunderous clapping,and high pitched whistles —your friends cheers the loudest of them all. “We have a clear winner here tonight, folks,” the DJ announces. “Winning by a landslide…couple number three!”

Tattooed arms unexpectedly scoop you up off the chair, running bridal style off the stage and towards the pool with you. You playfully shriek and laugh the whole way until … splash... he jumps in the water with you. When you both surface again, your hungry mouths are attacking one another like prey: desperate and determined. He moves forward in the water, pinning you against the side of the pool with his body as you devour each other— all lips, tongue, teeth and flesh. His skin tastes like chlorine, his kisses- a hint of nicotine; and just as addictive. Underwater, he teases a hand up your inner thigh and begins gently rubbing you through the fabric of your bathing suit. You allow it, encourage it actually—rocking your hips to press yourself firmer against his fingertips. You can feel how hard he is through his swim trunks and you opt to help him out, grasping his hard cock through the thin veil of fabric. You work each other into a sexual frenzy and it’s not long before his fingers transcend the boundary of your bathing suit bottoms, pushing the fabric aside and inserting two slender fingers inside of you. You follow his lead, sinking your hand into his swim trunks and wrapping your fingers tightly around him.

Maybe it’s the fact that he’s a complete stranger who’s name you don’t even know, or that he’s much younger than you, or perhaps even because no one besides your ex-husband has touched you this intimately in years, but you feel a familiar sense of heightened arousal that can only compare to the giddy exhilaration of your first sexual experience. God the nostalgia!—Back when just the novelty of making out, and touching each other was enough. Back when foreplay still existed, before the busyness of life and motherhood had you trading sex for sleep. Or swapping making love for quickies during naptime.

Every swirl of his tongue, curl of his fingers, and flick of your wrist has you feeling renewed, awake and alive again. You never want this to end but your body is chasing after the high it so desperately wants bucking against his palm while his fingers caress that sweet spot inside of you. As your orgasm begins to build, your grip on him falters so he places his free hand over yours, helping you stroke him. The feeling of your walls squeezing his fingers as you cum is so sexy to him that he finishes shortly after you.

Since the moment he jumped into the pool with you in his arms, you’ve been in your own world, oblivious to anything or anyone around you. It’s not until you start coming down from your high that the outside world starts to trickle back in: the music, the people, the sounds of your friends cheering your name. You turn to the direction of the noise in search of your friends, but a series of cannonballs by a group of guys momentarily blocks your view before you finally spot them. When you turn back after locating them, the boy is gone.

***********

The next morning in line for the breakfast buffet you feel a gentle tap on your shoulder.

“Hey, sorry about last night. My name’s Jaden by the way,” he holds out his hand.

“I’m y/n,” you shake his hand. “What exactly are you sorry about? I may have been a little tipsy, but I remember having a great time.” You give a small smirk.

“Ok, good,” he smiles “I was worried I got a little too caught up in the moment and took things too far,” he admits. “But mostly I’m sorry I disappeared on you like that. My buddies almost drowned me with their cannonballs and I wanted to spare you from having to see me choke to death and squirt water out of my nose.” He laughs.

“Fair. You’re forgiven,” you joke. “Can I ask you something?

“Of course, ask away.”

“How old are you?” You brace yourself for the answer, but at least you know he’s at least twenty one.

“Twenty two, you?”

“Oh god, umm let’s just call it mid 30’s” you answer, slightly embarrassed, and worried about how he might react.

“Can I ask you a question now?” He asks.

“Sure.”

“I’d like to spend some more time with you today. Would you like that?” He asks.

“Wait, so your not bothered by me being much older than you?” You question.

“Not at all,” he smirks. “Sooo is that a yes then?”

“I-I dunno..” you're sure he just wants to hook up again , and you don’t want to give him that impression. Last night was just a heat of the moment thing.

“I just wanna talk, get to know you. Hands to myself this time, promise,” he replies as if he’s read your mind.

“Okay,” you agree. “My friends and I have a dolphin excursion during the day and dinner reservations at 6:00, so why don’t we meet somewhere around 8:00?”

“That works for me. Meet at the hot tubs?”

“Sounds good, I’ll see you then.” You answer.

**********

You head down to the deck with the hot tubs after dinner; bathing suit on and towel in hand. You know you’re going to be a few minutes early but you figure you’d get there before they get crowed. When you arrive however you see Jaden already in one of the hot tubs; his elbows resting on the edge, and a cigarette between two fingers. You know it’s a nasty habit and not good for his health but fuck - why does he look so good doing it.

“Hey,” you say, grabbing his attention.

“Shit!” He blows out a mouthful of smoke and ashes the cigarette out on the edge of the hot tub. “Sorry, bad habit, tryna quit. I wasn’t expecting you for like another ten minutes, thought I could sneak one in.”

“No worries,” you smile, stepping into the hot tub with him. “I expected there to be more people out here, thought I’d come early before they filled up.”

“Yeah, same,” he says as you scoot over next to him . “But apparently there’s supposed to be a rainstorm some time tonight, so maybe that’s why. Although I don’t really see why it would matter, like you’re in a bathing suit literally sitting in water anyways.” He shrugs. “So anyways, tell me about yourself. I’m guessing you’re not here on Spring Break too.” He laughs.

“Nope, celebrating my divorce actually,” you admit, holding up your left hand and wiggling your ring finger— a lighter band of flesh, where a ring once sat.

“Ooh brutal, sorry to hear that. Did you guys have kids together?” Jaden asks.

“Dont be. I’m glad it’s over. And yeah twin boys actually. They’re six. My moms watching them while we’re gone.”

“Aww, sweet” he smiles.

“How ‘bout you? I already know you’re here on Spring Break. Sooo ummm—ooh I know, tell me about your tattoos, do they have any special meaning or anything?

“Some I just liked, and some have meaning but this one’s the most important to me,” he points to a scrawling of repeated sentences that goes from his chest down his side. I got it for my best friend Cooper who passed away from fentanyl poisoning last year. I just didn’t know what say, didn’t know what to do after he passed , ya know, it’s like — “ he pauses a moment and swallows hard . “Fuck, I’m sorry. Let’s just talk about something else,”

“Sure, no problem. I understand” you say supportively, placing a hand on his shoulder.

The rest of your conversation is much more happy and upbeat —sharing your favorite movies, music, and books, where you both live and what you do for work. Also telling silly anecdotes about your childhoods, college life, motherhood and so on.

And then the rain starts; which you both agreed was no big deal but, unfortunately this rain is accompanied by thunder and lighting.

“Ugh, I was having a great time talking with you. Sorry the rain cut our little date short.” You say, sounding disappointed as you both quickly exit the hot tub.

“Is that what this was?” He smiles.

“Maybe,” you answer coyly with a shrug and flirty smile.

“If you’re okay with it, you can come back to my cabin and talk a little more, hangout, watch a movie or something,” he suggests. “But I totally understand if you're not comfortable with that. No pressure.”

“Sure, I’d like that,” you agree.

***********

“Shit, I just realized I don’t have anything dry to change into” you state upon entering his cabin. “And my rooms like on the complete other side of the ship. Do you have anything I could just throw on for now?”

“Uhhhm, sure,” Jaden looks around the room for something to give you. “Here you can wear this bathrobe,” he says, tossing you the white, terry cloth covering before sitting down on the bed.

In the corner of the room you turn, facing away from Jaden, put on the robe, and then descretly remove your bathing suit from under it.”

“What, no show?” Jaden jokes.

“You don’t wanna see, trust me.” You say, sounding down.

“Oh, but I do,” he laughs, but then stops when he notices you aren’t laughing too. Hey, what’s a matter. I’m just joking.I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable that wasn’t my intention. I don’t want you to think that’s why I invited you back to the room. You don’t have to show me anything you don’t want to.”

“It’s not that. I’m just really not comfortable in my own skin these days—haven’t been for a while actually. I love my kids to death but let’s just say pregnancy didn’t do my body any favors. You're young, you can have any hott girl with a tight little body. Why would you wanna see mine, it’s nothing to look at, I promise you.”

“I promise you you’re wrong. Let me show you how beautiful you are.”

You’re not sure what that consists of exactly, but you nod in agreement anyways. Jaden makes you feel so safe, and you could definitely use a confidence boost.

“C’mere,” Jaden leads you by your hand into the bathroom, and positions you in front of the mirror. “Can I take this off?” He whispers in your ear from behind you, as he places a hand on each of your robe covered shoulders. You meekly nod yes and he slips the garment off your shoulders, letting it pool at your feet, leaving you completely nude. You fight the urge to cover yourself but the look of awe in Jaden’s eyes as he surveys your naked body helps melt away some of your insecurity. “Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” he breaths against your our neck. “Now what I want you to do is look in the mirror with me,” he instructs. You flick your eyes up to the mirror meeting his in the reflection. “I want you to tell me what you see when you look at yourself in the mirror—give it all to me, the good, the bad, the ugly, then I’m gonna tell you what I see.”

“I see someone I don’t recognize anymore. I used to be pretty, but now I have crows feet by my eyes, and my breasts have lost the perky fullness they had before breastfeeding two kids. It’s been six years and I still haven’t lost all the baby weight,” You poke at your stomach. “And I have this C-section scar from when my body failed to do the one thing it was literally designed to do!“ You start getting emotional. “My hips are so wide now, and my ass is huge , and don’t even get me started on the stretch marks on my inner thighs,” you sigh, holding back tears.

“First of all, you ARE pretty, I think you’re absolutely gorgeous. When I look at your eyes I don’t see crows feet— I see a million smiles and childhood summers spent having fun in the sun,” he says, making you smile. “That’s a million and one now,” he teases playfully. “Now, before I continue, do I have permission to touch you?”

“Permission granted,” you snicker “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t dying to feel your hands on me again,” you admit, blushing.

“And my lips too?” He begins kissing slowly up the side of you neck, making every hair on your body stand on end with arousal.

“Mmmhm, yeah, that too.” You giggle coyly.

“And these,..”he continues, cupping you from behind, “I see breasts that nourished two beautiful babies,and still look plenty perky to me, especially these nipples,” he rolls the buds between his thumbs and pointer fingers. “I love how erect they are for me.” He tugs on them gently before moving his hands to your stomach. “You don’t need to lose a single pound, all I see is curves and there’s nothing wrong with that. It’s not the 90’s anymore where women had to be rail thin to meet some ridiculous standard of beauty— all bodies are beautiful. And besides you don’t give yourself enough credit for growing two human beings inside you, this was their home for nine months!” He grips your soft belly tightly as he speaks. “And this scar,” he traces his finger over it, causing a ticklish chill to run through you at the ghostly sensation— you still don’t have much feeling there. “This is not a failure, it’s a reminder of how your babies were able to safely enter this world when things didn't go quite as planned.” Your eyes begin to well with tears again, not with sadness, but from the joy of a guy you met less than twenty four hours ago helping you fall back in love with your body and realize all its accomplishments. “And your ass and hips— fuck, that might be my favorite part of your body. Do you know how many women literally pay thousands of dollars to make their hips and ass look like this?” He rubs his hands over the swell of your backside. “It’s literally perfect.” He says with a firm squeeze. “And these—” he places his fingertips on the jagged pink and white lines on your inner thigh and begins to trace them upwards. “These are a map, leading me to where I wanna be the most,” he slides his middle finger through your wetness, “God damn you’re soaked and we’re not even in the pool this time,” he teases. “I think you want me here too, huh?” He begins rubbing slow circles on your clit, “and I mean more than just my fingers this time,” he smirks at you in the mirror before pressing his growing erection against your backside, and his mouth to your neck.

“Mhm, fuck—“ you moan, tilting your head and reaching back to run your hand through his dark hair while he marks you. “Mmmm, Jaden… do you… do you have a condom? I mean, my tubes are tied but—”

“I just got tested before the cruise baby—I’m clean.” He states breathily, before reattaching his lips to your neck, and pulling himself free from his swim trunks with his free hand.

“Okaay,” you moan. “I-I trust you.”

He slips in with ease; both of you releasing a shaky breath at the feeling. And while you haven’t exactly seen his dick yet, you can tell that it’s big.

“Fuccck, you feel incredible!” He nips along your jawline as he begins to thrust — one tattooed hand on your hip and the other, full of your breast, holding you against him so you can watch. He begins with a slow, gentle rhythm, taking his time to fully appreciate your warmth and tightness with each lengthy stroke.

“Ohhhh, Jaden!” You moan breathily.

“Mmmh yeah—am I making you feel good, baby?”

“Ss-so good.” And you mean that in every way- not just sexually.

“Keep your eyes on the mirror. I want you to see how beautiful you look while I fuck you,” he rasps in your ear.

You watch Jadens thrusts grow more urgent, his hands more hungry as he claws and grabs at every square inch of flesh he can get his hands on. Because of him you’re able to watch unashamed, as your soft body jiggles everytime Jaden’s hips crash against your backside, the movement spurring him on even more. You’re able to see the undeniable desire in his eyes, hear the truth of his words.

“God, you’re so fucking sexy!” He grunts through clenched teeth, increasing the intensity and depth of his pace even more, as he grows close to orgasm.

You grip the bathroom counter in front of you and let your head hang down in overwhelming pleasure. With a firm but gentle hold of your throat, Jaden lifts your head back up to face your reflection.

“Don’t want you to miss the best part,” he teases.

And with one final thrust, he cums hard, filling you to the brim. The warm eruption triggers your own orgasm, splashing against Jaden’s pelvis and dripping down his tattooed thighs.

“Fuck, I don’t think I’ve ever came that hard before,” you admit after finally catching your breath, your legs still weak and trembling.

“I can believe that,” he laughs looking down at the mess you’ve made of him. “It was so fucking hott though…Shower then room service?”

“Sounds perfect” you smile, stepping into the shower with him.

The shower starts off innocent, with the intent of actually washing up and getting clean but when Jaden asks if he can help wash you, things heat up rather quickly. As he soaps up your breasts you feel something brush press against you and look down.

“Are you really hard again, already? You just came!”

“I’m young, I got the drive and the stamina to go all night if you want,” he smirks.

“I just might have to take you up on that,” you smirk back, reaching to grasp his cock. You give it a few teasing tugs before dropping to your knees.

He watches with his bottom lip between his teeth as you tease your tongue along the underside of his shaft , tracing the vein from hilt to tip. He lets out a low and breathy “Fuck” as the head disappears inside your mouth— the rest of his length soon to follow. He tastes of you, and the scent of chlorine still lingers on his skin, especially when you take him deep, your nose pressed into the neatly trimmed patch of hair on his pelvis. The same patch that was just slightly visible last night above the waistband of his low hung swim trunks. You remember the way your eyes followed his happy trail to it, your mind wondering what was below it. Now just barely twenty four hours later it’s been inside of you; first your pussy and now your mouth. Every bob of your head brings him closer, his pleasure building so much he can’t help but buck his hips, gently fucking into your mouth.

“Ohh, shit —Fuck, I’m gonna cum!” He moans out, grabbing the back of your head with both hands holding you in place as he spurts down your throat. “Mhgmmmmmmmmm” he lets out a long and pleasure-filled moan, still pumping his hips in short stokes, enjoying the last tendrils of his orgasm before pulling out. “God damn, that was so good!” He praises your skills, making you blush. “Ok” he starts with a laugh “let’s try this again, shower then room service”

*****************

By the time room service arrives after your shower, you’re at it again, this time riding Jaden in bed— a position you haven’t been brave enough to do in quite some time. You’ve already cum and Jaden is dangerously close when you both hear the faint knock followed by “Room service.”

“Shit, don’t stop,” Jaden whispers to you before shouting to room service “Just—fuck, j-just leave it by the door!”

Another roll of your hips and he’s done for, eyes rolling back, chiseled body twitching under you, calling out your name as he cums for the third time tonight.

*********

“We definitely worked up an appetite,” Jaden laughs looking at all the now completely empty pile of dishes on the room service cart. “You save any room for dessert?”

“No way, I’m stuffed,” you answer.

“Well I did.” Jaden smirks pushing you back down on the bed, and spreading your legs, his head disappearing between your thighs.

“Ohhh Jaden …”

**********

In the morning Jaden wakes before you, he can’t help but watch you sleep, sofly swiping a single knuckle along your cheek as he admires your beauty. The sensation stirs you from your slumber. Your eyes still heavy with sleep blink open and Jaden’s face comes into focus.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you,” Jaden says, his husk, sleep laden, voice sounding so sexy. “It’s just that you're even beautiful when you sleep.”

“S’ok,” You murmur, with a smile. “Gotta get up anyways,my friends are probably wondering where the fuck I am.”

***********

You put your key card to the door of your cabin and the door clanks open rousing your friends from their sleep.

“Shit, what time is it?” Ashley asks, squinting at her phone. “Ten thirty two, sorry we woke up so late. I think me and Liz had a little too much to drink last night. I hope you weren’t bored waiting around for us.” Ashley apologizes. “Have you already been swimming this morning?” she asks noticing you're in a robe with your bathing suit dangling from your hand.

“Wait!” Liz interjects, “That’s the bathing suit you had on when you left for your date with -with that college boy, what’s his face—“

“It’s Jaden” you remind her.

“— you’re just getting back now, aren’t you!! You spent the night!?” Liz exclaims accusingly.

The hue of your cheeks and your guilty smile give you away. You take a seat on the edge of the bed and wait for the slew of questions you know you’re about to get pummeled with.

“Oh my god, did you sleep with him?” Ashley asks.

You answer wordlessly, pulling back the collar of the robe, exposing the numerous wine colored markings that decorate your flesh.

“Jesus! I haven’t seen that many hickeys since highschool” Liz teases. “Ok, spill, how bad was the sex? I’m cringing just looking at your neck.”

“It was honestly the best sex I’ve ever had,” you blushed. “He made me feel like a fucking Goddess!”

“ There’s no way,” Liz scoffs. “How much experience can he even have.” She says with an eyeroll.

“Yeah I’m not buying it either,” Ashley laughs. “C’mom you don’t got to lie to us. We’ve all had our subpar hookups, especially when we were in college. Guys that age are all confidence and no skill.”

“No I’m dead serious, it was amazing!!!” You gush. “And not just his dick, but the way he made me feel…”

You proceed to tell them every detail of last night, from how he praised and appreciated your every flaw and gave you your confidence back, to just how good his dick felt inside you and how talented he was with his mouth and fingers. When you're done talking Liz gets up and starts walking towards the cabin door.

“Where are you going?” You ask perplexed.

“Going to find me one of these college boys” Liz laughs. “Does he have friends?” She jokes, making her way back to the bed. “Seriously though, sorry we teased you, that sounds amazing.”

“Yeah,” Ashley agrees. “I’m a little jealous— good dick AND body positivity, sign me the fuck up!”

“What are you guys gonna do when the cruise is over?” Liz asks, “You’ll probably never see eachother again.”

“Oh my god, that’s right! I forgot to tell you guys the best part! Earlier in the night when we were just talking in the hot tub we figured out that he only lives an hour away from us!”

“Holy shit, what a small world, that’s awesome.” Ashley exclaims.

“I’ll tell you what’s not small,” you smirk.

[aristotle97]

suffering bc an oc i made inspired by a writing-prompt-s "ur power is being average at everything and never worse than average" post isn't good enough for a marvel rp server i'm in so im gonna post them here and see if anyone wants to rp with me qvq

(p.s he's named mercutio bc i'm growing into my new pref. name)

also tagging @kohyuuu / @kohyuu2 and maybe @mercutiosblog bc they might find this oc neat

_ _ -# " hAVE AT THEE, BOY! " ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ … ⠀ Mercutio⠀ 𓏴 ⠀ Master of None

info

full name . Mercutio Riccio alias(es) . Merc, Tio, etc. age . 18 date of birth . 3/16 gender . Trans Male sexuality . Pan occupation . Vigilante

mutation

(the main gripe of these people in the discord i'm in. also said his strengths/weaknesses were traits more than anything... YEAH. BECAUSE HIS POWER IS BEING AVERAGE!?!?!?)

Mutation: Jack of All Trades, Master of None - Average at everything (but extremly bad at taking care of himself), isn't neccesarily an expert at anything, but tries his hardest anyways. Physical health could be better, definitely in an average/healthy range, though. Can run average distances, eat normal amounts, etc.

Strengths:

Consistency - His physical abilites are extremly consistent thanks to his averageness. Ex. He could run a decent distance without stopping, but would be huffing and puffing like the average person afterwards.

Flexibility - Again, average at everything, he knows how to at least administer basic level first aid, he can cook some okay tasting food if asked to, and otherwise can step in as the 'doctor' or 'fighter' or 'distraction' if needed.

Stealth - Typically an unassuming/average joe in his civilian getup. If he ever needed to tail someone or blend in, he could actually very well do that due to, well, looking like an average joe!

Weaknesses:

Lack of Specialization - He can't be asked to have expert knowledge at anything. Ex. He could totally sew someone's wound shut, but he physically CANNOT give someone a lifesaving surgery

Terrible Leadership - He doesn't have a particular amount of charisma as his everyday civilian self. He doesn't know how to lead people into battle, or anything like it. He prefers an equal playing field, hence his building of a small 'commune,' as it could be called, out of the people in his apartment complex.

Very bad at self care - Can't care for himself very well, which is hilarious, considering the fact that he is average at everything else. He's tried everything, from sticker charts to self-care apps like Finch, Amaru & Voidpet garden, but nothing works. He just tries his best™️, only washing his hair when he remembers to, brushing his teeth when he reminds himself too. Cannot build good, healthy habits for himself to save his life.

appearence

height . 5'4 eye & hair color . green eyes, black hair description . black hair, green eyes, baby-ish face faceclaim . John Eyzen, performing as Mercutio in Romeo et Juliette 2001 in Paris. (faceclaim self explanatory if you looked at bro's name)

persona

likes . Crocheting, colorguard, napping, cooking dislikes . Track, long range combat, loud noises. overview . A typically closed off, standdoffish young man out of costume, and a kind, selfless, danger-defying hero in costume. He doesn't let the hard exterior fall in front of friends, and especially never in front of romantic partners; he can't have another Romeo incident.

misc

background . Ran away from home at age 16 after his childhood friend 'Romeo' (fake name), betrayed him by outing him to his family. His mutation had manifested three years before this, but Mercutio didn't realize until he was attacked by a Sentinel. Thanks to his total averageness at everything, he somehow just managed to escape it. He now resides in New York under the hero name 'Master of None' and tries to keep his peace/take care of his community.

notes

started a community garden on the roof of his apt. complex

runs a free mini library

crochets baby hats/blankets/etc. for homeless shelters in the winter.

has a habit of befriending stray animals

carries a backpack with snacks, a first aid kit, small crochet project, water bottles, and about $200 in cash with him on every patrol