#I assume everyone finds me disgusting so unless I have clear approval to do it I won't at all. And he have allowed it all so I don't hold

[mrfoox]

Tor: yeah I needed to see.... If we are going to stay friends in future, I needed to see that we could spend time together without cuddles and stuff

Me trying not to laugh: okay...? (bro why didn't you literally just say so? As long as you communicate what you don't or do want me to do I'll follow the rules. I'm being a clingy bitch with you bc you allow me to be. If you say I'm not allowed to at some point, I'll listen. For me it's that simple. You could have saved us both this shit by just using your words dude)

[megan-is-mia]

Omggg I love your blog!! I'm new here and I'm already so hooked! 😊💖

Could I please request #14 of the monster yandere prompt with Malleus?? With spiciness of NSFW if possible please

XOXO

 (I hope you stay hooked cause you’ll be in for a crazy ride, and hell yeah you can get your NSFW. You are lucky cause this fic is loooong) 14. “You know you can’t run from me forever, one day I’ll catch you” (Yandere! Malleus Draconia x Fem! S/o) (WARNING NSFW AND NON-CON AHEAD) ((MILD CHILD GROOMING)) “Malleus do wipe that bitter expression off your face” Lilia said in a scolding tone as he poked the young king whose mouth was fixed in a deep grimace. “I don’t want to, if I must go to this christening then I will but I refuse to pretend that I’m happy about it” Malleus replied folding his arms and looking out the window of the carriage. “You were so excited about going before, why the sudden change?” Lilia said giving the draconic-fae’s face another sharp poke. 

“That was before you told me it was in the Enchanted Dominion” Malleus said, the corner of his mouth twitching with the force of his frown. “You know I cannot stand that bratty little prince Dimitri, and now there’s going to be two of them” he added with a shake of his head. The Enchanted Dominion was the kingdom closest to the Valley of Thorns, and because of that considerable effect was put in by both countries to keep their diplomatic relations at least peaceful if not outright friendly. “Actually it seems that King Klaude and Queen Eden were blessed with a little princess this time. I believe they’ve named her (Y/n), for the Queen’s late mother” Lilia said, his lips quirked up into a half-grin as he noticed that Malleus’s posture had relaxed with this additional information. They rode the rest of the way to their destination without any further chatter. The two fae were escorted into the banquet hall where a great celebration was already in process as various dignitaries approached to pay their respects to the baby.

Malleus let out a sigh as he walked up to the cradle where the infant princess lay half-asleep. As he stared down at the baby, he found himself begrudgingly thinking that she was rather cute. Not as cute as Silver had been as a babe, but definitely deserving of the cooing and coddling that had been given to her by all the visitors. Absentmindedly he reached down to stroke the child’s cheek and her little eyes popped open to look up at him. (Y/n) gurgled and tried to grab the fae’s finger in her tiny fist. It was like a switch was flipped inside the draconic-fae at this action by the newborn and he scooped the child up despite the cries of protest from the seated king and queen. (Y/n) continued to gurgle and stared up at Malleus sending him into a trance of sorts as his heart raced with infatuation for the sweet infant. It took Lilia tapping his shoulder for the young fae to finally return to reality and set the babe back in her cradle even as she tried to cling to Malleus’s fingers and began to cry as he walked away. Even as he put distance between himself and the child, the draconic-fae’s mind was filled with thoughts of the infant princess. He remembered nothing of the festivities that followed after everyone had paid their respects to the baby and he thought of nothing but her until the next day. Well, that wasn’t entirely true… even though he forced himself to focus on his responsibilities Malleus still found his mind wandering to the condition of Princess (Y/n) to the point that even Lilia noticed he was out of sorts. It wasn’t until the young king finally sent a messenger, in secret, to the Enchanted Dominion to inquire about the state of the baby princess that he was finally able to get some peace and complete his work for the day. At first, receiving an update once a day about the state of little (Y/n) was enough to satisfy Malleus’s curiosity. However, as the months passed the daily message he received just wasn’t enough anymore. He wanted to see the young princess, see how much she’d already grown in the last four months. Malleus had to fight the urge to simply teleport to King Klaude and Queen Eden’s castle to satisfy his need to see the child. He forced himself to be patient and wrote a formal letter requesting permission to visit the castle under the guise of a diplomatic visit. His request was eventually approved and the day after he was able to finally see little (Y/n) again. She was crawling now and was just as cute as he remembered her being if not more so. It was clear, even now, that the baby princess would be a great beauty when she grew up. Regretfully the dragon-fae wasn’t able to spend as much time as he would have liked with the little princess before he was dragged off on a tour of the castle by the king and queen. However, this brief second encounter with the adorable child confirmed one thing in his mind: Malleus could not wait for another four months to pass by before the next time he saw young (Y/n). He resolved to begin visiting the child in secret so he could watch over her like a benevolent ghost or a faithful shadow. Five years passed by, and Malleus dutifully watched over (Y/n) as she grew from a crawling baby to a waddling toddler and into an energetic little girl. He came to realize that his infatuation with her was not only growing but slowly turning into something not as innocent as it had been originally. The draconic fae knew it’d be only a matter of a few more years before the princess would be old enough to start entertaining potential suitors, and that was assuming that she didn't end up betrothed before that! The very thought of such a thing happening irked him beyond belief. In Malleus’s opinion, no mortal man would ever be worthy of his darling (Y/n). However, there wasn’t much he could do to stop such an event from happening. Unless… he asked for the princess’s hand before anyone else had the chance and secured his claim on his future queen now. That thought should have disgusted him, wanting to take a child as his bride to be. Yet instead it filled him with immense satisfaction when he really took the time to think about it. Really he was the best choice for the princess. Their kingdoms were right next to each other so their union would allow their countries to merge and prosper under their joint rule. Malleus knew that some of the lower-fae might object to having a human queen at first but he was sure they’d come to adore (Y/n) with time. Even though she was still very young, the dragon-fae could tell she would only grow in grace, intelligence, beauty, and maturity as the years went by. He’d already seen it during the times he’d already spent by her side.

When the time came for them to finally wed there would be no way anyone could object to their marriage. Yet before any of that could happen, he had to ask for King Klaude and Queen Eden’s permission to become Princess (Y/n)’s betrothed. When Malleus went to ask for that honor he did not go empty-handed. Oh no, he wanted to make it quite plain to his beloved’s parents that he’d make for a suitable husband with extravagant courting gifts as he made his request. However, the king and queen did not respond the way he’d hoped they would. Instead of being impressed by the gifts and his heartfelt request they were disgusted by his intentions towards their second-child. Malleus’s eyes narrowed as these pathetic mortals tried to lecture him about how reprehensible they found his offer to be. They threatened death upon him as well as war on his people if they ever caught wind of him getting anywhere close to the young princess again. Malleus found himself consumed by rage and teleported back to the Valley of Thorns unaware that his wrath had taken corporeal form as green flames that sprouted where he’d been standing last before spreading like an actual wildfire through the castle ravaging objects and killing people in its wake. When news of the terrible disaster came to the young king the next day he found himself desperately hoping that (Y/n) had somehow survived the terrible blaze.

Sadly this was not to be. While King Klaude, Queen Eden, and Prince Dimitri had managed to get out alive, the little princess had been consumed in the inferno before it had been successfully extinguished and the Enchanted Dominion held a funeral for their dearly departed princess a week later. Even Malleus attended the event albeit in disguise. He was far from ready to face the reality that (Y/n) was truly dead nor was he ready to handle the accusations from the king and queen for his crime. 

Malleus spent the next decade and a quarter in a deep depression. What was the point of living when you had nothing to live for? He ate little, slept little, and tried to keep his mind busy with work improving the Valley of Thorns. Alas, there were still times when his mind was filled with thoughts of (Y/n) especially when the anniversaries of her death and christening passed by each year. This year would have marked the princess’s eighteenth birthday, the year she’d finally have been old enough to wed. Overcome with sorrow the young king disappeared in the forest that covered the border between the Enchanted Dominion and the Valley of Thorns to wander aimlessly until his mind would finally allow him some peace. When suddenly a beautiful voice caught Malleus’s ear and made him stand straight at attention. The voice was clear as the call of a songbird and soft like the jingle of sleigh bells. The draconic-fae found himself drawn to the voice, determined to find out what its source was. Malleus followed the voice all the way to a glen with a cottage situated at the center but it wasn’t the cottage that truly interested the dragon-fae at this moment. No, his interest was for the figure who had been singing all this time. For a moment, he thought his eyes were playing tricks on him; there was no way the scene unfolding before him was really happening. There in the glen, looking like she didn’t have a care in the world… was Princess (Y/n). Not as he remembered her, but how he’d imagined she’d one day be. Beautiful and graceful as can be, (Y/n) sang for all the world to hear as she walked away from the cottage and toward where Malleus was standing in the shadows of the trees. As she drew closer the young fae was able to see the burned flesh of her left cheek and right arm clear as day. Malleus felt rage begin to bubble in his stomach, he’d been lied to all this time. The princess hadn’t died in the fire he’d created! They’d hidden her away in the forest probably in an effort to make him stop pursuing her. “So this is where they’ve been keeping you all these years… clever” Malleus said, stepping out from where he’d been standing in concealment and making the young woman shriek with surprise. “Hello (Y/n), you’re looking quite lively for someone who supposedly died in a fire thirteen years ago” he added with a smirk as the girl stared at him with bug-eyed disbelief. “Come on, I know you can speak. I just heard you singing quite beautifully before you knew I was here” he finished before going silent to await her response. “King Draconia! How’d you find me?!” (Y/n) said with undisguised horror. She’d spent most of her childhood and teenage years in fear that the dragon fae would locate her. The great fire he’d caused was one of her only vivid memories of her youth and had been the basis of many nightmares when she’d first been brought out into the forest. Her parents had been planning to marry her to a foreign prince this year and she would never have to worry about being in the crosshairs of a fae again. “Fate my dear child of man, we are meant to be together and so fate made it so” Malleus said coolly as he advanced on (Y/n) and grabbed her wrist as the girl’s eyes darted from side to side as she tried to formulate an escape plan. “ (Y/n), I would advise against trying to flee from me for you’d only be postponing the inevitable. You know you can’t run from me forever. One day I’ll catch you, and the longer it takes for that day to come the more pain you’ll cause both yourself and your family” he warned softly. “What do you want from me?” (Y/n) asked quietly even though she already knew the answer to that question. “The same thing I’ve always wanted from you. I want you to be my wife. I need a queen to rule by my side and I want that queen to be you” Malleus said calmly as he pulled the young woman against his chest and wrapped his other arm around her waist to keep her there. “And what if I don't want to be your wife or your queen?” (Y/n) said hesitantly and received a patronizing laugh from the dragon-fae in answer to her question. “I’ll raze the Enchanted Dominion to the ground and still take you as my bride. I’m giving you a choice to either accept your destiny with dignity or to cause massive suffering for your kingdom through a refusal of your destiny” Malleus said gently but firmly making it clear that there was no choice, not really. “I’ll marry you… and I promise not to fight” (Y/n) said quietly, letting her head flop forward to rest against the fae king’s chest. She was dimly aware of him pressing his lips against her forehead before everything went dark. Malleus cast a minor sleeping spell upon (Y/n) with a kiss to her forehead. He knew that she was probably trying to process everything that had just happened and wanted to ease the process by letting her rest for the time being. He teleported the two of them back to his castle and into his chambers where he gently tucked the young woman under the covers with another kiss to her forehead before leaving the room. As much as Malleus wanted to stay by (Y/n)’s side and bask in her beauty, his kingly duties called.

First thing, first he needed to tell Lilia the joyous news and start the preparations for the wedding. He found the older fae hanging around one of the attics in the castle and gleefully told him of his discovery in the woods. Lilia was overjoyed to see his ward smiling again after so many years of sorrow and he eagerly agreed to oversee the arrangements for Malleus and (Y/n)’s wedding. He shooed the young fae away telling him to not worry about it and that he’d handle the specifics of the matter. Next thing to do was sending a wedding invitation to King Klaude and Queen Eden. He kept it simple and didn’t reveal the identity of his bride until the final sentence of the invitation. Malleus handed the letter off to a messenger and sent them off to the Enchanted Dominion to deliver it to his future in-laws. The draconic-fae spent the rest of the day buzzing through his paperwork with a vigor he hadn’t shown in years. By the time the sun had set, Malleus was finished with his work and retired eagerly to his chambers where (Y/n) awaited him.

As he locked the door behind him, the dragon-fae smiled to himself. The princess was still deeply asleep from his spell and there was a little smile on her face. Malleus sat on the bed and ran his fingers through (Y/n)’s hair and found himself memorized by her beauty. The burn-marks on her face and arm did not detract from her good locks, if anything they made her even more beautiful in his eyes. He still wished that things had turned out differently and that he had been granted her hand when he’d asked all those years ago. However, Malleus couldn't say he was totally unhappy with how things had turned out. Sure, (Y/n) was afraid of him for now, but with time she’d come to see how much he loved her and fall just as madly in love with him as he was madly in love with her. The young king was certain of it, he would make the princess a happy bride, happy wife, and happy queen in time. The young fae was pulled from his thoughts by the young woman moving in her sleep and letting out a soft whimper It was clear that (Y/n)’s sweet dreams had now turned into a nightmare and Malleus dispelled the enchantment he’d placed upon the young woman allowing her to wake up from her terrible dream. The young woman blinked slowly and looked around her with an expression of confusion on her features. The draconic-fae did not speak, allowing his darling human to take in the features of the room as he continued to stroke her hair soothingly as she did so. “How do you feel child of man? I’m sorry for the abrupt waking but you were having a nightmare” Malleus asked and felt the princess suddenly stiffen as if she only just remembered who she was in bed with. The young fae let out a sigh as he pulled down the covers and pulled (Y/n) out and up into his lap. “Relax my dear (Y/n), everything is alright, your bad dreams cannot hurt you anymore” he said softly pressing his nose against the nape of the young woman’s neck.

“King Draconia… Did you… did we? While I was…” (Y/n) trailed off her face turning bright red with embarrassment as she tried to articulate her question. Malleus found it adorable how easily flushed the matter made her. He knew humans took such interpersonal relationships more seriously than the fae did and he couldn't resist teasing his sweet human a little over it. “Did I deflower you while you were asleep?” he asked bluntly, making the girl blush even more as she nodded her head.

“What do you think? Do you think I took your innocence already?” the fae crooned, enjoying the way the young woman squirmed at his words and her skin began to heat up from how flustered she was. “Be at ease, I was only teasing you a bit. Your virtue is still very much intact my dear child of man” Malleus said with a chuckle. “And that is how it will remain until our wedding night my love so worry not. I promise to not lay a finger on you until then” he finished pressing a kiss to (Y/n)’s chin. “King Draconia—” a finger was placed over (Y/n)’s lips. “— (Y/n), I’d prefer it if you called me by my first name. We’re going to be married after all so you might as well start getting used to it” Malleus interrupted gently. “Malleus” the young woman said, not quite sure she liked the way the word sounded in her mouth. “Malleus... how long until we are to be wed?” she said even though she didn’t really want an answer to her inquiry. Maybe if the date was far enough in the future, she’d have a chance to escape and warn her family. “We will be wed by the end of the week my dear” Malleus replied, his words chilling (Y/n) to the core. “E-eh-end of the week?! That’s way too soon! We hardly know each other, we can't get married yet! I already agreed to marry you, can’t we take it slowly?” the princess said frantically with obvious dismay in her voice. “I have already been forced to wait thirteen years for you to reach maturity my dear child of man. So on the contrary, I think the end of the week is not soon enough” the fae replied with a small frown. “But, but… I’m not ready to be queen” (Y/n) said desperately. “I can’t be queen! Look at me!” the princess added frantically gesturing at her burnt face and then looking back at Malleus with a pleading look. “I am looking at you (Y/n), and what I see is the soon-to-be Queen of Thorns” the fae said resting his chin on the girl’s shoulder. “You have nothing to worry about, I will be by your side every step of the way through this experience you have my word” he finished as he pressed kisses to her collarbone. (Y/n)’s mouth opened again, but no words came out. What else could she say? The fae’s mind had been made up and there was nothing she could say to change it. Sure she could try running away, but doing such a reckless thing was sure to backfire on her. Even if she got away, Malleus would undoubtedly go after her family and take out his rage on them. The princess felt tears welling up in her eyes and soon her cheeks were damp as the tears began streaming down like little rivers on her face. Malleus forced her to turn around in his lap so he could wipe the tears away and spoke what he must have thought were words of comfort but only brought despair to (Y/n) who sobbed until she was out of energy and passed out in the fae’s lap. The next few days were a blur to the princess, between the lectures on fae etiquette in the morning and being forced to accompany Malleus when he held court each afternoon there was hardly a moment of peace for the young woman. 

The only relatively quiet moments (Y/n) got were the three hours in the evening during the dress-fittings for her wedding gown. The seamstress had the tact not to ask about the burns that covered the princess’s left cheek, upper back, right arm, lower abdomen, and left leg. The young woman knew the fae wanted to ask questions but appreciated that she did not voice them. Instead putting her energy into making sure the dress would fit (Y/n)’s conservative tastes and cover her marred skin. The day of the wedding finally arrived with the finishing touches being put on the dress even as (Y/n)’s face was caked in make-up and her hair was pulled back into an elegant updo. Since her father King Klaude would probably not be in attendance, the ancient fae Lilia Vanrouge had volunteered to be the one to walk the young woman down the aisle and was permitted to help with getting her into the freshly completed gown. Once everything was laced up the girl was permitted to see herself in a mirror. “Well I’ll be, you look exquisite” Lilia commented as he watched the girl stare at her reflection with wide eyes. (Y/n) found herself overwhelmed with sorrow. The woman in the glass looked like a regal queen, not the terrified teenager she knew she was under the makeup and dress she wore. For a moment despite how ridiculous it was, she considered trying to run for it now. However, Lilia’s hand clamping down on her arm and gently guiding out of the room put an end to that notion. (Y/n) let herself be led down the aisle to where Malleus stood with an eager grin at the altar. Distantly she was aware of the sounds of screaming. The princess turned her head and locked eyes with her mother Queen Eden. She wanted to run to her mother and hide her face in the familiar warmth and aroma of cinnamon that clung to the queen’s clothes. However, she couldn’t move a muscle, whether it was because she was frozen with fear or it was because Malleus had bewitched her… she’d never know. When the time came to recite her vows there was no passion behind the young woman’s words, which were in vast contrast to the dragon-fae’s impassioned oaths that had been spoken only moments before hers. They exchanged rings and kissed before (Y/n) was swept off her feet by Malleus and carried up to his chambers before being dropped on his bed. She watched as the fae fumbled to undo the tie on his dress shirt before giving up and just ripping it off before sitting on the bed and kissing her again. This kiss was worlds different from the one they’d just shared at the altar and all the ones he’d given her over the past six days. This kiss was hungry, and it would not be easily satisfied. (Y/n) tried to pull away from the liplock but Malleus’s arm wrapped around her waist keeping her close as he forced his tongue into her mouth and ran it over the roof of her mouth, inside of her cheeks before darting under her tongue in what he probably thought was a playful move. (Y/n)’s vision was starting to go dark from lack of air when Malleus finally pulled back before flipping her over to start unlacing her dress before running out of patience and just tearing the back open so he could feel her skin under his hands. He had planned on taking his time originally, it was going to be his darling’s first time with a man and he did not want to hurt her unnecessarily. However, she looked so intoxicating it was hard to hold himself back and not just rip everything off so he could bend her over and fuck her. He had to force himself to take a few deep calming breaths as (Y/n) quivered beneath him. With his head a bit clearer now, Malleus slowly pulled the top half of the dress down to the young woman’s hips as he peppered kisses down her spine. He sat back on his heels and began unbuttoning his shirt and jacket so he could shrug them off onto the floor beside the bed. The dragon-fae gently rolled (Y/n) onto her back once more before bringing her hands up to his lips so he could kiss them. “I love you” he said in a low purr as he continued to press kisses to the girl’s fingers and gazed down at her with his cheeks now a faint shade of pink. “I love you so much” Malleus added, adjusting his grip so he could pull (Y/n) up into a seated position and kiss her again. He let go of her hands but kept kissing her as he wrapped his arms around her waist and began laying back so she’d fall on top of him. One of the fae’s hands crept down to cup at the curve of the young woman’s ass before lightly squeezing it.

(Y/n) threw her head back and let out a soft squeak at the sudden grope to her rear before hiding her face against Malleus’s neck. The young king smirked to himself as he squeezed again this time with a bit more force, and received a second adorable sound from the girl as her cheeks turned red with embarrassment. Not wanting to waste any more time undressing her, Malleus snapped his fingers making (Y/n)’s dress vanish into thin air and leaving her with nothing but her undergarments to preserve her modesty. The young woman tried to squeeze herself flat against the fae, shivering from how drafty the room was as well as the fear she felt coursing through her veins. Malleus allowed her to lay like that for a few moments before he coaxed her head up for more kisses. He slipped a hand under the cup of her bra so he could grope her chest experimentally. (Y/n) wasn’t the most well-endowed but the bounty she did have was more than enough in his eyes. He playfully pinched her nipple enjoying the way she twitched in response to his touch. The dragon-fae’s other hand retook its place on the young woman’s rump, squeezing roughly before slipping in between her thighs to press his nails against the fabric of her panties and tease her clit underneath. (Y/n)’s body twitched again, this time more violently and the fabric of her panties became damp from the stimulation she was receiving. Malleus pulled back from the kiss to chuckle at this cute response and continued his teasing until the young woman was shaking like a leaf with her eyes rolled back from his ministrations. (Y/n) wasn’t completely oblivious to the carnal pleasures of the body. She’d experimented quite a bit when she was first going through puberty. Yet all of that had been on her own, it was something else entirely to have her body manhandled by someone who knew what they were doing and wasn’t afraid to get a bit rough with her. Thankfully Malleus’s fingers went still and fell from between her legs to rest on the bed as his face contorted into an expression of thoughtfulness before he brought that hand up to her chest With a hand already under her shirt, it was easy for the young fae to pull the princess’s brassiere up and off her body before tossing it aside onto his shirt and jacket on the floor. Malleus pressed his face between (Y/n)’s breasts inhaling her unique aroma of raspberry and blackberry. His tongue flicked out from his mouth as he licked up the valley betwixt her boobs lapping at her delightfully, soft skin before reluctantly pulling back so he could reposition the girl into facing away from him with her legs straddling his chest. The young woman was perplexed momentarily by this sudden shift in position before her eyes focused in on the bulge in the fae-king’s pants and felt his hand on her back forcing her to bend forward. (Y/n) braced an arm on the bed next to Malleus’s thigh and with the other, she shyly ran her fingers over his clothed erection. Her move was rewarded with a soft growl and she repeated it a few times before a squeeze to her leg told her that more effort was necessary. 

Timidly she undid the buttons to the draconic-fae’s pants and let out a yelp at his boner, no boners sprung free. (Y/n) stared bug-eyed at the twin dongs with a bewildered expression before jolting as her panties were ripped off and something wet touched her clit. Malleus’s free hand pat her butt to remind her of what she was supposed to be doing before it trailed down to the nape of her neck and gently pushed down on it so her face was now brushing against the dragon’s double cocks.  Taking the hint she stuck her tongue out to give one of dicks a cautionary lick. The other she ran her fingers over tentatively. Malleus let out a purr and thrust his tongue into her cunt in answer to her inexperienced touches. (Y/n) was starting to understand what was being asked of her and responded accordingly, shyly taking the head of one member into her mouth and the other into her fist before slowly taking more of the fae’s cock until it was all the way in and someway down her throat. She went still for a moment, letting her oral chamber get used to the feeling before she pulled back a little and repeated the process with her hand moving in time to her mouth. While she jerked and blew the dragon-fae, he, in turn, fingered and tongue-fucked. Malleus knew if he wasn’t careful and didn’t probably stretch (Y/n) out beforehand he’d only hurt her instead of pleasing her. His free hand trailed down from her neck to tease her chest again causing the girl to choke a little on his rod. Slowly (Y/n) managed to find a rhythm to her movements and was able to disassociate somewhat from what was happening to her. Of course, it wasn’t possible to completely dissociate with Malleus’s mouth and fingers in her pussy but she was going to take what she could get. Her brain was going a bit hazy now, the combination of being eaten out and having a cock down her throat making her vision go blurry before she felt something burst inside her and she came all over the young fae’s face. A moment later she felt his cocks twitching in her mouth and hand, this was the only warning she got before she found herself coated in cum both inside and out. She had no choice but to swallow the dragon’s load as he lazily licked up her fallen juices and gave her cunt a quick swipe with his tongue to make sure he got everything. (Y/n) pulled off Malleus’s cock and tried to wipe off the cum on her face and hand on the mattress with little success before she was abruptly forced onto her back again. The fae-king stared down at his wife’s flushed face and felt both his heart and cocks twitch at the adorable sight before him. Malleus positioned himself between (Y/n) legs and lightly pressed the heads of his cocks against her now well-prepped pussy. He smiled at her as he began to slowly sink into her inviting depths. The young woman let out a whine, even though she’d already stretched out by the fae’s fingers and tongue it still wasn’t enough to make this part completely painless. Thankfully Malleus took his time sheathing himself, running his hands over (Y/n)‘s skin and pressing kisses to help her relax and take him without injury. The princess’s legs were wrapped loosely around the young king’s hips and her hands had balled into fists that caused her nails to dig into her palms so they were bleeding a little. The fae went still when he noticed this and clicked his tongue scoldingly before he reached down to force her fingers to uncurl from clenched fists “If you need something to grip onto, may I offer these instead?” he crooned bringing her hands up to his horns and gently encouraging her to grab tight to them before resuming the task of slowly burying himself inside the girl’s cunt. (Y/n)’s hands tensed up on Malleus’s horns and she began babbling nonsensically for him to stop. The fae-king ignored these ramblings as his mouth latched onto one of the young woman’s boobs and began to suck lightly as he finally bottomed out inside her. Malleus did not move until (Y/n)’s breathing had stabilized again and her body had finally relaxed again. He pulled back a little, and thrust forward striking her sweet spot directly and making her body arched up into his. The fae repeated this motion again and again with varying speed and intensity. Sometimes it was slow and gentle, sometimes it was fast and rough, and sometimes it was somewhere in between. Regardless it didn't take long until the young woman was babbling for a very different reason. To the fae-king’s delight, his darling human’s hips pushed back against his needily which only egged him on into being wilder and wilder with her. His teeth dug into her neck, her chest, any flesh he could get his mouth on was soon covered in marks. It made for a fitting contrast the burn-marks of passionate rage and the bite-marks of raging passion to cover his beloved one. Even better when (Y/n)’s fingers fell from Malleus’s horns they found a new perch in his shoulders and he let out a lusty growl as she bit down on his shoulder. The two drove each other closer and closer to that coveted high of orgasm before finally going over the edge in a fit of moans and groans that shook the very walls. Neither party spoke for a long while, too busy trying to catch their breaths as the horny haze over them began to clear. Malleus finally gathered the strength to gently pull out, his cocks flopping limply against the mattress as their exit was followed by a gush of cum flowing out of (Y/n)’s ruined cunt. The fae gently scooped the escaping jizz back into his darling’s pussy making her whimper weakly at this attentional stimulation to her already oversensitive body. Malleus chuckled softly as he pressed a kiss to her forehead and grabbed a plug from the nightstand beside the bed. Carefully pressing it against (Y/n)’s gaping cunt until it slipped it and prevented any more cum from dripping out and ruining the sheets. He had a second reason for doing such a thing of course. He knew that the sooner they had a child the better. A babe of their two people was sure to put an end to any objections that the princess’s parents might attempt to raise against him for taking what was his. Malleus knew that the human king and queen wouldn’t dare try to start war if there was an unborn grandchild they might put at risk. Plus… he wanted to be a father, a real father. As he pulled (Y/n) under the covers with him, his mind was full of thoughts of their future together as the King and Queen of Thorns… THE END

[ibijau]

you’ve managed to give me an unquenched taste for nhs/jzx, and now i’ve come crawling back for more. them with 69 please (maybe a/b/o, you do a good job with it)? love your stuff!

“This is all your fault anyway,” Nie Huaisang grumbled, burrowing himself further into his pile of embroidered cushions.

Jin Zixuan, kneeling next to the bed, made an effort not to roll his eyes. He had learned, over the past few months, that it was a dreadful idea. Nie Huaisang, already capricious because his brother spoiled him, had become quite temperamental as of late. It was bad enough when he started shouting and arguing, but sometimes he started crying when he was upset, and that was just the worst.

Besides, he knew that Nie Huaisang didn’t really blame him for this situation. It had been Nie Huaisang who had suggested they fool around, after Jin Zixuan’s engagement had fallen through, and it was Nie Huaisang again who had professed that there really wasn’t much of a chance of any consequences for said fooling around. An omega outside of heat wasn’t that fertile, Nie Huaisang had said, and neither were betas in general, he’d added. Between a mother who had ordered him to never share anyone’s bed until marriage and considered she’d done her job educating him, and a father who’d given him a list of brothels for his fourteenth birthday and told him to figure things out himself (a list Jin Zixuan had promptly burned, terrified his mother might find it and punish him), Jin Zixuan hadn’t been in a position to do anything except trust his friend.

A mistake, as it had turned out.

A huge mistake. Nearly as huge as Nie Huaisang’s round stomach.

“More tea,” Nie Huaisang demanded.

Jin Zixuan immediately obeyed, pouring some fresh tea for the other boy.

“How was the archery contest then?” Nie Huaisang asked after taking a sip. “Da-ge said you placed well?”

“I came third,” Jin Zixuan confirmed, picking a slice of peach from the tray he’d brought, and holding it for Nie Huaisang to bite into, which he did. “Only because Lan Wangji threw a tantrum though, so I feel I didn’t do so well. Everyone wondered why you weren’t there, by the way. Jiang Cheng was very cross.”

“He’s always cross anyway,”  Nie Huaisang retorted, before opening his mouth to silently demand another slice of peach. Jin Zixuan obeyed of course. “Did they figure anything was off?”

Jin Zixuan shook his head. Although Jiang Cheng had seemed somewhat suspicious, when Nie Mingjue hinted that he just didn’t like to bring his brother in Wen territory, not even for a discussion conference, everyone bought into it. Who would have imagined the truth, anyway? Nie Huaisang acted a little flirty with everyone, but he was the one person everyone would have assumed to be knowledgeable enough to avoid such a situation. 

Even if somehow the news breached out, who would suspect Jin Zixuan of fathering that child though? Although they had become quite close in private, in public Jin Zixuan had still acted aggravated by his friend’s antics in public, to the point of usually refusing to acknowledge they were friends at all. It would have been easy to pretend this situation had nothing to do with him, to leave Nie Huaisang to his trouble and go on with his own life without ever thinking of his bastard child, except to remember in the future that it couldn’t be used as a match for the legitimate children he’d have with a spouse chosen by his parents.

It would have been easy.

It would have been what his father would have done, what his mother would have encouraged, still hoping for an alliance with the Jiang.

Instead Jin Zixuan had run to Qinghe the instant he’d received a letter from his friend hinting at his predicament, and hadn’t left again for months, not until his father threatened to come get him by force if he didn’t show up at the discussion conference in Nightless City. Even then, he’d refuse to go home with his parents, pretending he was tired of Lanling and wanted to explore and Night Hunt on his own. He’d managed to convince his mother that his father’s behaviour disgusted him too much to be around him lately, and his father that he’d found a pretty face to have fun with in Qinghe.

It wasn’t even a lie. Nie Huaisang really was pretty, and Jin Zixuan really despised his father for all the bastards he’d sired and abandoned over the country.

“I wish I had been there with everyone,” Nie Huaisang sighed. “It would have been fun.”

“It really wasn’t,” Jin Zixuan insisted. “The Wen were furious to have lost their own tournament, your brother says they’re probably going to retaliate in some way.”

Surprised to hear this, Nie Huaisang sat a little straighter in his nest of cushions.

“Da-ge said told me there was nothing to worry about!”

Jin Zixuan winced, and offered his friend another slice of peach as a distraction. It didn’t quite work, Nie Huaisang pushed away the piece of fruit and frowned.

“Since when does da-ge even talk to you? Wasn’t he mad about…” Nie Huaisang gestured at his round stomach. “Did you two make up?”

Jin Zixuan shrugged. He didn’t know where he stood with Nie Mingjue. The man had punched him in the face hard enough to break his nose when Jin Zixuan had told him he was responsible for Nie Huaisang’s predicament, and then refused all of Jin Zixuan’s offer for an honour marriage. But at the same time, he hadn’t kicked Jin Zixuan out of the Unclean Realm yet, and didn’t seem to mind that Jin Zixuan was spending most of his time in Nie Huaisang’s room now that Nie Huaisang couldn’t appear in public.

It would be a far cry to say that Nie Mingjue liked Jin Zixuan, but he might have somewhat approved of him, at that was already more than Jin Zixuan would have expected.

“I wonder if this is it,” Nie Huaisang sighed, flopping back against his cushions with a sour expression. When Jin Zixuan threw him an inquisitive look, he clarified: “I mean, if there will be a war. I know Qinghe Nie is ready for it, da-ge made sure of it, but the others… well, first of all, for small sects it’s a big risk. And then… the Lans are pacifists, Jiang zongzhu is the backbone of overcooked noodles, and your father…”

Nie Huaisang hesitated, but there was nothing he could say that Jin Zixuan hadn’t already thought.

“My father is pretty likely to side with the Wen, unless they insult him somehow,” Jin Zixuan said, and while Nie Huaisang grimaced, he still nodded a touch too fast.

“If he does, what will you do?” Nie Huaisang asked.

The question, asked with affected casualness, took Jin Zixuan by surprise, but not as much as the speed and intensity with which the answer hit him.

“I’ll fight alongside your brother,” he exclaimed, taking one of Nie Huaisang’ hands in both of his. “I’ll protect your and our… and your child, no matter what.”

Nie Huaisang’s eyes went wide at that earnest declaration. He quickly looked away, trying to discreetly blink away a few tears.

“Nobody’s asking you to do that,” Nie Huaisang mumbled. “I’m… you don’t even like me all that much. You don’t need to turn against me for someone you just happened to fuck once or twice, someone’s that’s not even your friend.”

It was Jin Zixuan’s turn to stare with wide eyes.

There was that funny thing about Nie Huaisang. Because he was the first one to point out his faults, the first one to laugh at his own expense, because he never took himself seriously, it was easy to think he really didn’t care what others thought of him. But he listened and memorised everything that was said or done, and took it to heart.

“You are my friend,” Jin Zixuan retorted. More than a friend, perhaps. He’d really enjoyed Nie Huaisang’s company even in Gusu, and after several months in each other’s company, with this child they’d have in just two or three weeks… maybe it wasn’t only friendship anymore, though it definitely was that as well. “And do you think I could ever look at myself in a mirror if I abandoned my friend, my child?”

“And since you’re so vain, it’d be hard for you to live without mirrors,” Nie Huaisang said with a devious smile that made Jin Zixuan want to… but they hadn’t kissed since he’d rushed to Qinghe months ago. It used to be Nie Huaisang initiating everything, but he hadn’t started anything all this time, so to Jin Zixuan the message was clear. He might have started feeling more than he ought to, but Nie Huaisang probably didn’t want anything but friendship. “You really would stay here with m… with us?” Nie Huaisang insisted. “Against your family?”

“At this point, aren’t you family as well?” Jin Zixuan asked, one of his hands letting go of Nie Huaisang’s to come and rest on his round stomach. Right then the child was quiet, but he could still feel its bursts of spiritual energy now that the date of birth was approaching. “Both of you are who I want to be with.”

“You’re so stupid,” Nie Huaisang grumbled, putting his free hand over Jin Zixuan’s on his belly. “If you keep that up, I’ll tell da-ge to say yes if you ask again that we marry, and then where will we be?”

“Together,” Jin Zixuan replied, his heart thundering in his chest. “So maybe I’ll ask again, while we can.”

“Idiot,” Nie Huaisang grumbled, turning away as if that could hide how red his face was turning. “I hope the baby is smarter than you.”

“Hopefully it’ll get your brain, my good looks, and your brother’s good sense.”

Nie Huaisang, still looking away, still red in the face, laughed. It was the most beautiful sound in the world, and Jin Zixuan hoped he would continue hearing it for the rest of his life, however short or long that might be.

[anauthore]

Not Much of A Partygoer (Kenny McCormick x Reader) {SERIES | Two}

Summary: (Y/n) drinks to forget her parents. Good thing Kenny is great at handling drunk people.

Pairing: Kenny McCormick x Reader (she/her pronouns) - South Park

NOTE: Every part of this series can be read as stand-alone, or as part of the series itself! If you don’t want to read each part on Tumblr, feel free to check out links to the work on the below websites:

Wattpad | Quotev | AO3

Fic Below the Cut | Previous Part | Next Part

The door slammed. You didn’t flinch because, unfortunately, you were used to things like that. Your door was ajar and your earbuds were in. Even though one side was quieter than the other, they did a good enough job blasting music into your ears and drowning out the noise of arguing and yelling.

* * *

The night, again, was cold. It always seemed like it was chilly here in Colorado, but you didn’t really mind. You liked the cold, anyway. You’d always thought that being cold was better than being hot.

The wind was surprisingly absent as you walked toward the address you’d scribbled on a piece of paper, squinting to search for the numbers on each mailbox in order to ensure you were in the right place. When you did eventually get there, though, the abundance of noise and flashing lights in the window was all you needed to confirm that you had indeed shown up at the party that you had, for some reason, been invited to.

You walked up the walkway, your feet gripping the stone easily as it had both been shoveled and salted. You naively knocked on the door before realizing there was a doorbell. You ringed it a couple times, waiting for an answer, but when none came, you leaned toward an opened window to peek inside.

Just as you focused on two dark-haired boys chatting in the corner with cups filled with what you assumed was alcohol, the door opened and the noise rushed into the open like waves crashing over you.

* * *

You had been in the middle of switching songs. The angry music you listened to only exasperated your feelings, and you weren’t in the mood for sad sounds. To your dismay, you never got the chance to hear whatever it is you were searching for.

Your door, already propped open so that your mom could see you were diligently working on your schoolwork, slammed against the opposite wall with enough force that you jumped. You looked up and locked eyes with your mom’s boyfriend- he was standing in the doorway and gesturing wildly, still in his Winter jacket with his tie peeking out from over the top.

His voice boomed as you were well accustomed to, but even then you couldn’t keep his words from drowning you.

“And your daughter, this little wench, she’s probably a slut just like you! Look at her; look at her room! And the clothes she wears, it’s completely unacceptable. If I were anyone else I’d be after her right now.”

You furrowed your brows in disgust and anger. What the fuck was happening? You opened your mouth to say something, but you couldn’t get a word out before he stood to the side and pointed into the hallway, looking directly at you as he commanded you toward the kitchen.

* * *

In the doorway was the silhouette of someone you recognized, and though you wouldn’t consider her a friend to you, she sure was a sight for sore eyes. 

Wendy Testaburger waved to you and smiled happily, as she always did, and then beckoned you inside. You couldn’t help but smile back at her as you climbed the steps, and, like she did with almost every girl she saw, she enveloped you in a tight hug before she let you go.

“I’m so glad you came! I was starting to think you’d never show.” She closed the door behind you and instantly you were a hundred times warmer. You almost felt suffocated.

“Yeah, well, I had nothing else better to do.” You shrugged it off.

She rolled her eyes playfully and picked up a cup from the side table that you assumed was hers. You didn’t have to peek inside to know that the liquid that sloshed around inside the plastic barrier was not alcohol. Wendy didn’t drink.

“Here, follow me,” she beckoned you over and started walking through the sparse crowd in the living room. You glanced around and recognized some kids from school, but obviously none of them were your friends. 

“So, this is the punch, and this is the punch.” She chuckled softly, shaking her head only slightly and handed you a plastic cup that looked like both hers and everyone else’s.

“Choose wisely.”

* * *

“(Y/n), do you mind telling me what the fuck you think you’re doing?” 

You looked to your mother for comfort, but she was just as angry as her partner. You had no idea what to say, so you shrugged.

“Don’t shrug at me! You know damn well what you’re getting into, sleeping around and doing drugs. Don’t act like you don’t know!”

You reached your breaking point. You felt your own voice rise up out of your chest and scream, all the words that were bouncing around in your brain finally forming into something other than thoughts.

“I’m not doing fucking anything! You’re so preoccupied with blaming me that you forget you’re dating a crackhead with a daughter who hasn’t done jack. shit. You think I wanna end up like her, dating someone like you?”

The cold slap that stung on your cheek froze you. This time, your mother was fuming, her fist balled up as tight as she could make it.

You scoffed, tears threatening to fall from your eyes as you pushed back your chair and slammed the door shut behind you, welcoming the wind as you strode toward any direction at all. Anywhere that would take you away from here.

* * *

  The moment the punch touched your lips, you were instantly warmed. You sighed and watched Wendy walk away, waving as she departed and fazed into the crowd. It was quiet where you stood; the tiny nook in the kitchen where the two bowls sat are the only thing that drew people into the room. You thought about leaning against the wall and staying away from everyone, but you were cold, and it was warmer where all the action was, so you headed towards the living room with an arm wrapped around your frame and your hand gripping your cup.

Music vibrated the floor through huge speakers stationed in the corner of the room, and you were grateful that it wasn’t any louder than that. Some kids sung to themselves while others were swaying to the rhythm; everyone was congregated in some sort of group, leaving you to be the odd one out. As always.

Or at least, you were for a moment or two before one of the boys in the corner came over to recruit you for a game of beer pong. You shook your head, and he nodded, stalking off to find someone else- behind him trailed a familiar blond, probably looking for the same thing. Your gaze met his for a brief moment; you don’t know what you expected, but he left as quickly as he had come.

You took another sip. And then another. Two more trips to refill your cup later, Wendy once again met you in the kitchen.

“Hey girl! Having fun?”

You smiled politely, and muttered a reply, but of course she knew better. 

“C’mon, (Y/n)! It’s not a party unless you’re enjoying yourself. Actually- wanna join my team? We’re playing beer pong, we need one more person for it to be even.”

You hesitated, but you didn’t get a chance to answer before she walked off, expecting you to follow her.

And that you did. You caught up and followed her like a dog, not wanting the crowd to close in on you and trap you in the sea of strangers. You barely paid attention to her, your eyes glued to her feet as she weaved in and out of rooms and obstacles until finally, finally, you reached the garage.

The draft made you shiver. There were significantly less people here than inside, but the atmosphere was playful as the small group of beer-pongers whooped and cheered for Wendy, having made the score even. You smiled nervously, finishing the last of your drink before setting the cup down on whatever clear surface available.

Wendy stood with you and two other girls who you didn’t recognize at all, while the opposing team was made up of Kenny, the black-haired guy you saw walking around earlier, some redhead, and the ever infamous Cartman. You had an opinion on at least a few people here, but your facial expression gave nothing away. You just watched, and when it was your turn, you played.

You missed your first few shots, with jeers from Cartman and the telltale mumbling of Kenny, followed by laughter and kind words from Wendy. The fifth or so time around, one of your teammates was getting fed up with you.

“Fuck, why can’t you make a ball! We’re getting obliterated! Are you already that drunk?” 

“Bebe! C’mon, she has as much of a chance as anyone here.” You could tell she was holding back a smile just to be polite. The boys snickered and your face turned red, but that could also be the alcohol settling in your empty stomach. 

"Hey, make another shot.” One of the kids opposite to you nodded his head in your direction, glancing at your hands before he tossed a white ping-pong ball toward you to catch. You did so in the palm of your hand, looking at Wendy for approval. You prepared yourself once more, planting your foot and squinting an eye to aim. Then, the ball that had been grasped so gingerly between your thumb and forefinger was released, and unsurprisingly, you missed any and all cups in front of you. You sighed and stepped back, but then your opponent spoke once more.

“Now, drink. Here, take mine.” He searched around and handed you his cup full of punch, which you had no other choice but to take from him. Cartman snickered and you stared into the liquid’s daunting face before drinking. Around you erupted clapping and laughter.

“Alright, so (Y/n)’s gonna drink every time she misses? That’s a little unfair, don’t you think?”

Wendy tapped Bebe’s arm and shook her head, then whispered something into her ear. Bebe rolled her eyes and seemed to drop the subject, though her attitude didn't waver.

Not many more rounds later, and everything started to spin. The walls were moving back and forth like you were on a boat, and your feet couldn't feel the floor underneath you anymore. Your mind buzzed as you fumbled with the ball and tossed- you didn’t see where it went, but you did hear the crescendo of ‘ooo’-ing rise around you. Wendy moved in front of you, taking hold of your shoulders and shaking you, a huge smile on her face. Her voice was shrill and easy enough to focus on; “You did it! You made the shot!”

“I- what?” You looked behind her and saw the sea of red cups half-filled with liquid, and in the midst of one, an unmistakable white orb. A cheeky smile spread across your face and you laughed. “I did it- holy shit, I did it! I get to drink!”

Wendy stepped out of the way and watched as you stepped forward and plucked the cup of alcohol off the table, tossing the ball to the side and chugging it. It burned, especially on the edge of your lips, but the warmth spread throughout your body and you quickly forgot about the burning sensation. You sat the cup down- the empty plastic fell to the side and you wiped your mouth and neck with your sleeve, cringing at the stickiness the drink left behind. You swayed, smiled, and gave two thumbs up to the other team, who started to laugh at your antics.

“Woah, okay, (Y/n), look at me.” 

Wendy’s hand supported your back as you stumbled. The muffled party music had somehow infiltrated your brain, and you swear you could feel it. In your chest, your hands, your… toes.

“Look, guys, she’s fuckin’ trashed. Who wants to bet on when she’ll dance topless on the table?”

Someone elbowed Cartman in the side and he glared back. Wendy shot him a dirty look and nudged you toward the garage door, but your drunken state was clearly something she was not used to handling.

“(Y/n)- c’mon, we have to get you some food. Or at least to lay down, okay?”

You nodded, but then shook your head. “No, no I wanna play, I’m just getting good!”

Wendy opened her mouth to speak, but someone else interrupted her before she could.

“Hey, here, let me help.” 

Kenny stepped around the white, pop-up table and ignored the nudges from Cartman and Stan. Wendy turned to look at him, sans his orange parka, with a raised brow. He, of course, completely understood the implications his demeanour had on this sort of situation. In any other case, Wendy would not let someone like him near a drunk girl such as yourself, but in this instance, he was way better at handling these situations than she was.

He put his hand around the small of your back, with the other hand on your shoulder to steer you. He pushed you toward the door and said something to Wendy. It was apparently the right thing to say, because she nodded and went back to the game, though not after she made sure you were safely in the other room.

The lights were darker inside than in the garage, so you found yourself depending on Kenny to guide you around. Your closeness allowed the telltale scent of cigarettes and musk, and now alcohol, to find its way to your nose, and immediately you were taken back to the night however many weeks ago that you’d been with him.

He steadied you as you swayed back and forth, nudging you up the stairs and into a room with a bed. You laughed, and he said something that you couldn’t quite make out before you realized he wanted you to lay down. You tried to shed your jacket, but the material felt disgusting to your senses, so you gave up and collapsed into the blankets. Your whole body buzzed, like every nerve ending was set on fire but at the same time lulled to sleep.

Kenny closed the door. The old floor underneath you creaked as he approached, and his hands found your body- they were surprisingly warm, and you got lost in his touch. It made you suddenly seem cold, and you tried to push toward him before you realized what could be happening and let the alarm bells go off in your head.

He pulled off the other arm of your windbreaker and threw it to the floor. You looked up, though unable to focus, and found him, back turned to you as he searched for something. Your pulse picked up, and you wanted to run. You knew how this would end- you were drunk, you could barely move, and it was so easy for him to just-

A warmth covered you that was definitely not there before. It was fuzzy, and so soft, and then you realized it was a blanket. You smiled and rubbed your skin against the faux fur, shivering as your heat spread out underneath the cover. You tried to thank Kenny, for being better than you thought he was, but your voice was both muffled by the blanket and by your drunken haze.

Kenny sat next to you and watched you drift in and out of sleep. He stared at a wall, or sometimes at you, but either way he was sensible enough to keep anything or anyone else from coming in to disturb you.

You’d grown used to him being next to you. You’d half-dream, being alerted by the prospect of him moving, and then comforted to find that he was still sitting there, at the end of the mattress, lost in his own thoughts.

Right before you fell to sleep, you’d opened your eyes to find that he was slipping out of the door. You’d spoken, almost pleaded, to him.

“You’re leaving?”

He turned to you with a gaze that you couldn’t place. You could also barely see it. “Uh, I- yeah. I’m just getting a drink.”

You nodded. You didn’t hear him leave, but then again, the buzzing in your head was hard enough to hear past on its own. 

“Thank you so much. Thank you. Thank you, Kenny. Ken. Thanks.” You couldn’t help but smile at his kindness.

You didn’t know if he heard you, but you didn’t care enough to check. With that, your last words of the night, you were out, succumbing to the cocoon of sleep you desperately needed.

[spidercakes]

Starker high school AU featuring fem!Omega!Tony and alpha!Peter where Tony is well known for being a real bitch to anyone who tries to court him. Peter knows better than to think he hates getting gifts.

Warning for references to domestic violence (Howard).

*

Peter watches Tony from across the hall trying mostly unsuccessfully to shove his stuff into his locker. He’s already in a bad mood that much is clear but when Justin Hammer walks up looking far too confident his mood appears to take a nosedive for the worst. He watches Tony turn away from trying to stuff his leather jacket into his locker to Hammer, aggression clear in his features but that doesn’t seem to deter Hammer any. Bad sign, Tony hates that but Peter leaves him to it because its almost funny to watch Tony tear his suitors to shreds and he’s mean when he gets going. Or at least it would be funny if people didn’t keep disrespecting Tony’s very clear and well known boundaries and if Tony didn’t sometimes go a little far in his vicious takedowns.

But he doesn’t really like Justin Hammer that much and neither does Tony, he’s not shy about saying it. So when he holds out a box Peter knows he’s about to go ape on this guy. MJ walks up beside him and shakes her head, “one, stop fantasizing about being the only one to tame that beast. He’s a privileged brat, get better taste. Two, privileged brat or not he’s preferable to Hammer so I want to see this,” she says, looking satisfied as Tony glares Hammer down.

“He’s not a brat,” Peter tells her, “he just doesn’t like jewelry and no one seems to get the point.” Or at least he’s pretty sure that’s what that is anyway but its hard to tell because omegas almost never get stuff that isn’t jewelry. Peter doesn’t get why that is when he’s never actually seen an omega wear any of it. Mostly they range from irate like Tony about it to mildly uncomfortable and unsure what to do with expensive things they don’t want like Liz. Either way Peter thinks its about time someone actually paid attention to what their crushes like and give them something that’s not stupid expensive that they might actually like. But that’s probably the fact that he’s too poor to do much more than get small things talking even if Liz agrees.

“Turn the fuck around right now,” Tony tells Hammer. MJ raises an eyebrow at him but they both agree that unwanted attention should earn a person a smack so Tony is actually being really polite right now according to those standards.

“I got you-” Hammer starts but Tony cuts him off.

“You could have Nicolas II the last Czar of Russia in that box and I couldn’t give two shits. Turn around and walk away,” Tony says.

Peter doesn’t mean to let out a sharp peel of laughter but its funny, okay? Tony turns to glare him down but softens slightly when he notices that Peter isn’t laughing at him specifically. He still turns away like he’s been stuck with a hot poker because Christ, Tony isn’t supposed to see him watching. “He’s not staring anymore,” MJ tells him helpfully so he risks looking back over.

Tony is unlucky enough to have Hammer’s gift all but shoved into his grasp and oh, Tony hates that too. Peter isn’t entirely surprised when Tony makes an offended noise and walks to the nearest trash can to chuck the box into it. “For ten fucking seconds I want some time to myself to stick my jacket in my locker and you fucks can’t even give me that!” he snaps as he storms off, unconcerned with the fact that his jacket is on the ground and his locker is wide open.

“Well that was a fun way to start the day,” MJ says. “Think we’ll get more entertainment by lunch?” Given the way people seem to lust after Tony Peter wouldn’t really be surprised.

*

Rhodey is used to people asking him about Tony, it happens all the time and he’d never say anything. Or at least he’d never say anything to anyone Tony didn’t already approve of so he’s gotten a reputation for being as difficult and bullheaded as Tony. Neither of them have high standards so its pretty sad that people consistently fail them but it is what it is. So when a lanky looking alpha walks up to him at least having the sense to look nervous Rhodey isn’t surprised. He’s not the usual type, that goes to whoever is overconfident enough to think they’ll actually get something from Tony and this guy does not look the type if his blush is any indication.

“Um, hey. I’m Peter. Parker. Peter Parker, yeah, um. God, this is bad I’m so glad Tony doesn’t have to- here,” he says, handing Rhodey a small box. “Tell him its not jewelry.” He turns to walk away looking pretty harassed but Rhodey is curious.

“Why’d you give it to me?” he asks before Parker can run off anywhere.

He doesn’t look impressed about it but he does turn to give Rhodey his attention. “Tony doesn’t like being handed stuff, but he seems to take stuff from you and Pepper. You seemed less scary than Pepper but I think maybe I was wrong and both of you are terrifying.”

He doesn’t mean to laugh a little but its kind of funny and he gave an answer Rhodey likes. “If he doesn’t want it I’ll give it back to you at the end of the day,” he tells Peter.

Peter nods and walks away with a soft ‘thanks’ and Rhodey decides he likes that too but he won’t tell Tony about it unless he likes the gift. Not that he would have even got it if he didn’t like Peter anyway, he knows Tony well enough to know when he won’t like someone and he’d probably appreciate the help weeding them out. He doesn’t even know why people try at this point, not when Tony is so damn nasty about his day being disrupted. He doesn’t know about anyone else but if he watched a guy toss a twelve thousand dollar necklace in a pond because he didn’t like it he’d probably think that guy was an asshole and avoid him forever.

He knows better than to think Tony is the asshole here, but without context he’s go to wonder what the hell everyone else is thinking. Its not like they all know Tony is as rich as he is when he doesn’t hint at it, and they don’t know that he hates jewelry because his asshole of a father used to give his mother something sparkly after he beat her, and they definitely don’t have any boundaries, but he still wants to know what goes through their mind. He wants to know what it feels like to be so confident he thinks he can win over an omega who actively hates jewelry with jewelry. It must be some kind of adrenaline rush mixed with a Darwin Award and he wants to know.

The fact that its so common is so weird to him too, its like no one here has basic observation skills. Sometimes he pretends like he’s an anthropologist trying to figure out how the students in this school work because their behavior is so counterintuitive. Other times he texts Pepper so they can privately roast whoever Tony harshly turned down now.

By the time he gets to lunch Tony reports three more people- and there seem to be unlimited people at this school Rhodey swears- who have tried to give him gifts. None of them anything but jewelry and Rhodey can do with a little key change to his day so he pulls out that Peter Parker kid’s box. “Here,” he tells Tony, who frowns at it for a second before looking kind of hurt. It takes a second for Rhodey to catch on and when he does he wrinkles his nose, “look man, if I wanted to court you I would have and I don’t. I just can’t look at you the same way after that time I witnessed you triple yourself,” he says. “Its from some kid named Peter Parker and he says its not jewelry so I figured it was promising.”

“Do I even want to know what tripling oneself is?” Pepper asks, coming up behind Rhodey and sitting beside him.

“Shit, piss, and puke in sync,” Rhodey and Tony say together, both sounding dismayed and a little disgusted. The look on Pepper’s face tells him he should be ashamed that this is information he has.

“I can’t believe I associate with you two,” she mumbles, shaking her head at least until she spots the box sitting in front of Tony. “What’s that?” she asks.

Tony shrugs, “don’t know but he survived Rhodey so I assume he doesn’t suck.”

“As long as its not another Sunset,” Pepper says, shaking her head.

It earns a small sigh out of Tony and he picks up the box, probably looking for a subject change. He looks exhausted with it already so that’s how Rhodey knows his reaction is genuine. He pulls a scrap of paper from the box and snorts before he starts laughing, cracking up the the point of doubling over and Rhodey would like to know what’s on that paper.

Pepper has the same idea because she snatches it. “Nicholas II the last Czar of Russia?” she reads, clearly confused.

Tony is already distracted by something else in the box because he’s staring at it with a smile on his face. Rhodey beats Pepper to snatching it this time and he smiles when he reads the pin too. “That’s cute,” he says, handing it to Pepper.

“Ah! the element of surprise. I don’t get the Czar thing but Tony clearly did so that and this pin make for a clever combination,” she says. “So you know this one has brains. Just make sure he’s not the type who thinks being clever every once and awhile is a replacement for a personality.”

“Ew, don’t ruin the only good gift I’ve ever gotten,” Tony tells her, taking his pin and scrap of paper back. “The Czar thing was me insulting Hammer. God, can you guys believe he tried to give me anything? I’d rather stick my dick in a bee hive.”

Rhodey and Pepper exchange a look because there might be something here and Rhodey, for one, wants to figure out what it is.

*

Tony finds Peter after school and quickly learns that he’s jumpy when he all but tosses himself nearly into his locker because Tony spooked him by accident. “You’re interesting, I don’t think I’ve met you before,” he says. He’s certain he hasn’t actually and Peter’s cute, in a boyish way. And he already knows he’s not a dunce so there’s that too.

“I um, you have actually. We’ve had like three science classes and two math classes together but I um, usually sit at the back so.”

Yeah, bad excuse because that’s where he sits too but that’s sweet of him to try and give Tony a reason for not noticing his existence. “Okay, so maybe I can be a little self absorbed. Cute gift though, the element of surprise thing was kind of clever.”

It seems to take Peter a few seconds to catch on to his own joke and that’s... weird. “Oh my god, its like I’m the element of surprise! Yeah, okay, I didn’t even think of that I just thought it was kind of cute and sarcastic and you like science so...” he trails off, wincing.

Its adorable and also telling. So he did put thought into it, just not the way Tony thought and that’s actually better for him. “Think you can come up with another gift by tomorrow?” he asks in maybe a little too cocky a tone. And then he kind of thinks of the implications and winces, “I um, I don’t really want stuff I just want to know that you like, give a shit about who I am. And uh, yikes, that wasn’t an improvement. You can just forget this ever happened,” he says, for some reason feeling the need to finger gun his way out of this, passing Peter quickly as he scrambles the hell out of there.

*

Peter doesn’t really know if Tony likes vinyl but he definitely likes AD/DC so he leaves it in front of his locker and figures Tony will make up his mind. In the meantime he finds Liz so he can focus on something that isn’t losing his mind or passing out. “If you were a sandwich what would you be?” she asks as he walks up. Ned looks mad beside her and that’s weird because Ned never gets mad.

“I don’t know, a BLT I guess,” he says.

Liz throws her hands up, “the only correct answer is a grilled cheese, why do you guys like in anarchy?”

“Meatball sub!” Ned says, staking his claim but Peter frowns.

“Ned, a sub isn’t a sandwich yours doesn’t even qualify.”

Ned looks offended about this, “Peter, its meat in bread. That’s the exact same as a sandwich, just because the bread is shaped different doesn’t mean its not a sandwich.”

MJ chooses then to walk over so Peter pounces on it, “is a sub a sandwich, MJ?”

She squints at him like he’s stupid, “no. Why is this even a question.”

“Liz lives in denial that if we were sandwiches the best option is meatball sub,” Ned explains.

That gets him another ‘what the fuck’ look. “First of all I maintain that a sub is not a sandwich and obviously the only right answer is grilled cheese.”

Peter frowns, “why does grilled cheese count as a sandwich?”

“It has ‘sandwich’ in the name Peter- a grilled cheese sandwich,” Liz points out.

“What was his answer?” MJ asks.

“BLT,” Peter in Ned say in sync.

“Savage,” MJ accuses and frowns for a moment, leaning around him. “Oh, and he’s about to get his penance, we should probably check ourselves before we wreck ourselves,” she says, nodding at something behind Peter. He turns to find Tony walking towards him with the record he left at his locker and winces because he doesn’t want to like... get smacked with it or something equally unpleasant.

When he turns back to his friend group he finds that they’ve all abandoned him like cowards but in their defense he wishes he could abandon himself like a coward too. But unfortunately he’s him so he can’t. “Um, hey,” he says once Tony is in ear shot.

Tony grins, “AC/DC!” he says excitedly.

“Oh, yeah. You like them, and like... most eighties rock but a lot of sixties and seventies stuff too. Why are you looking at me like that, you wear a lot of band shirts,” Peter says. Like a lot of them, but enough of them are AC/DC shirts that Peter assumes he has a preference.

“Oh, right. Yeah, I guess I do. Sorry, I’m just not used to people noticing really obvious stuff about me- I, you know what. Uh, thanks,” Tony says, scattering before Peter can say anything. From across the hall he has no less than six people staring at him in shock and Peter frowns.

“What? It wasn’t hard to find something he liked.” Which is true, but he’s at least somewhat benefitted by the fact that his competition seems to think trying the same thing over and over again despite atrocious results will work.

“I gave him like, twelve things!” the one guy says and Peter rolls his eyes.

“Ten bucks says it was all jewelry,” he mumbles to himself and walks away. He doesn’t get why people keep trying to throw shiny things at Tony when he obviously doesn’t like it.

*

When Tony finds the box he doesn’t expect much mostly because good things don’t seem to last where he’s concerned, so he’s pleasantly surprised by its contents. “That is the ugliest scarf I have ever seen,” some alpha a couple lockers down from him says, giving the scarf a distasteful look.

Tony doesn’t remember anything about her except that he can’t stand her. “Then you clearly don’t get the reference,” he snaps, putting the scarf in his locker before he goes to class.

Rhodey raises an eyebrow at him as he walks up but he says nothing as he sits down. “What, no rant about gifts today?”

He shakes his head, “no. People seem to be picking up on the fact that Peter is doing a better job than any of them. Today I got Four’s scarf.”

“Nice,” Rhodey says, grinning and giving a nod of approval. “Now that you have a not shit suitor I feel like I can finally say that I cannot believe you threw a twelve thousand dollar necklace in a pond because you didn’t like it. You could have pawned it,” he points out.

“And get money I don’t need? Let someone else find it and cash in and I thought you hated Killian anyway.” Rhodey had been the one to warn him off not that Tony needed a warning to stay away from Killian.

“Could have donated it to charity. And I don’t, which is why I laughed when you tossed it. But damn man, twelve grand. I can’t imagine having that much money to just throw aside for a courting gift.” He shakes his head but Tony is well aware there’s more to it than that. Its not like his being on the lower end of middle class is a secret, and Tony knows that Rhodey doesn’t really believe him when he says most omegas don’t actually want jewelry. Tony is pretty sure Rhodey thinks that’s a bias on his part and it is, but only because he has an active reason to dislike jewelry, not because omegas secretly do want jewelry.

But the pressure is there and Tony knows Rhodey has avoided dating because he can’t afford that kind of thing. He figures he’ll grow out of the pressure to perform courting in a certain way but that doesn’t make things suck less for him now.

“If Killian knew anything about me he would have donated it to charity himself. And even if I didn’t hate jewelry that thing was god awful, you can’t expect me to have liked that gaudy ass thing. It looked kind of like this hideous necklace my great grandmother snuck out of Italy when she fled fascism during World War Two.”

Rhodey snorts and cracks up, shaking his head. “Okay, I will give you that it was very ugly but it was also stupid expensive.”

“I didn’t know that before it was tossed and yes, I could tell that it cost money because I know what good jewelry looks like but also I wouldn’t have paid more than ten bucks for something that hideous. Someone designed it that way on purpose and they should be fired for their sins.” And that’s before he even gets into the mess that Killian is specifically. Rude, entitled, arrogant, a mean streak a mile wide, and a total inability to not go into full meltdown mode when he’s told ‘no.’ Tony learned his lesson when he was a freshman and Killian decided to hit on him with an uncomfortable amount of aggression and then got mad when Tony agreed to meet him elsewhere to get him the hell out of his face only to not show up.

Needless to say the ensuing meltdown led to somehow deciding to win Tony back, not that he ever had him to begin with, with jewelry. It’d been the first time he’d ever been given anything and the situation resembled the cycle he’s watched his parents go through a million times so closely that he kind of lost it a little. Admittedly it wasn’t the nicest thing in the world to throw the necklace in a pond and start shrieking but he also feels like, at least in context, the reaction wasn’t totally irrational. Just mostly.

“So Four’s scarf,” Rhodey says, transitioning away from Killian thankfully. “Not a bad choice, even if you prefer Ten.”

“What are you two on about?” Pepper asks, arriving to the conversation late.

“Doctor Who,” Tony says and fills her in on the rest. She also gives a nod of approval and its almost harder to impress her than Rhodey. Rhodey only wins out because he’s grown a protective streak for Tony and Pepper has it too, but she’s a lot less likely to go ham on someone at least publicly. Usually Rhodey is good at pretending not to be an impulsive moron but there’s something about Tonys presence that makes him lose a brain cell or two and do dumb shit like get suspended for punching Killian in the face. Twice.

*

Peter didn’t really think Tony would actually like any of the stuff he got, minus the record because he knows Tony likes the band, but it turns out he’s actually really good at this. Tony liked the other pin he got too mostly because ‘UM confusion’ on a pin is pretty much how he feels about this whole thing and he figured Tony felt similarly. And its cute and matches the other pin.

The last thing he expects is for Tony to put the pins on his jacket and wear the scarf he got him. What he expects less than that is the sheer amount of people asking him for advice on how to court Tony seems how his efforts are working. Which is why he finds himself on the top of a table in the cafeteria kind of annoyed that he even has to do this.

“Hey. Um. Hey!” he says a little louder, drawing more attention that time. “So um. You guys keep asking me for advice on how to court Tony but you guys like... really don’t need advice on that. You guys need advice on how to follow boundaries and not harass the shit out of people. And also really, really basic observation skills. Tony doesn’t like jewelry you idiots, how did you not realize that when he kept throwing stuff out? Are you guys stupid?” he asks, fully prepared to continue on this rant when he notices a teacher beelining their way over and he sighs. “Whatever, point is if you can’t figure out how to court the omega you’d like to maybe you should take that as a sign that you don’t like them, you like what they look like. Courting someone shouldn’t be so hard that no one but me I guess figured out that Tony hates jewelry. Didn’t think he’d have to write that one down for you guys considering he throws everything he gets out,” he says, throwing his arms up before he jumps down from the table only to nearly run into Tony.

He looks pleased with himself so at least there’s that. Peter mostly tries to avoid looking at his legs in that skirt because its rude even if he looks good. “Peter Parker I think I owe you a date,” he says, grinning.

Peter blinks, shocked. “Um. What?”

Tony smiles wider, “I said I owe you a date and seems how you’ve been doing all the work so far I’ll handle it.”

“That’d be great, thanks,” he says. “I’m not great at this.”

Behind Tony Rhodey snorts, “you were better at it than the whole school and don’t have a problem with Tony taking the lead to boot. He’s probably gunna marry you.”

[chillmichelle]

Princess

Y/N finds out that Shawn calls her princess because of his inability to get over his ex, whom he also called princess.

Very angsty

Word Count: 4K

-

“Hello princess.”

A pair of warm lips presses against Y/N’s forehead. The second she feels the light from the window glare through onto her tired eyes, she rushes to lift the sheets onto her face to hide herself from the painful rays.

Shawn laughs at her actions, swiftly lifting them before climbing in under the sheets right next to her. He grabs at her waist, and just as she thinks he’s about to pull her into him like he always does, he instead squeezes at her sides, making her laugh and jump up out of the sheets.

“Shawn!” She squeals, grabbing the nearest pillow to hit at him with the fluffy material. He flinches at the crisp material thudding against his bare chest, grabbing the pillow under his head and sitting up. He’s wearing nothing but his boxers, allowing Y/N to admire the tattoos along his arms.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” He raises the pillow in his grasp. Y/N widens her eyes, slowly backing away from the bed and then quickly sprinting into the restroom before Shawn can catch up to her.

“I’ll get you back princess!”

-

Y/N is flipping pancakes on the stove, spatula in one hand and the handle of the pan in the other as she focuses on turning the pancakes golden brown. The smell of buttery goodness fills the air and her stomach grumbles.

“Something smells fucking amazing.” Shawn declares as he jogs out of his bedroom, finally wearing some shorts but still lacking a shirt. Y/N didn’t mind, though.

“Morning princess.” He lays a kiss to her lips, their lips making a small smacking sound as they both pull apart. Y/N smells the scent of coconut body wash on him, the same kind she’s just recently purchased and placed in his bathroom.

“Shawn, did you use my body wash?” She humors. Looking behind her, she realizes he stands frozen, the water bottle he was going to drink out of frozen in mid air as he searches for words to speak.

“...no?” He tries to reason, even though they both already know the answer to her question.

“You’re adorable.” She presses on, poking at his toned stomach before turning back around to flip at her pancakes.

When she pours the last of the batter into the pan, she throws the dirty bowl into the sink to be washed later. Shawn leans onto the counter, eyes switching from admiring her to flicking onto his phone.

“Do you have any plans today?” He asks, breaking the comfortable silence. Y/N watched bubbles form on the uncooked side of the pancakes and begins lifting the edges of the floppy disk up.

“No, I think I finished all of my homework yesterday. Why?”

Shawn leans forward, wrapping one arm around her waist as he elaborates, “My friends are hosting a little get together, and Brian can’t have it at his place because his brother is coming into town. I thought maybe I could host it here? Unless you’d be uncomfortable with that. In which case I definitely won’t.”

Y/N is quick to respond, “No, Shawn, it’s your place. Of course you can host it here, you shouldn’t even have to ask.” She smiles, tilting her head up to stare at him. He nudges their noses together softly and Y/N almost feels like awwing at his cuteness.

“I can’t wait for you to meet my friends.” He tells her, his lips brushing against hers at their proximity. She lets out a hum of approval, tilting her head forwards to flip the final pancake. She figures the remaining heat from the pan will cook it, and reaches forward to switch the heat off.

After she flops the final pancake onto the stack, she walks over to place it in the center of the table. She grabs the pitcher of syrup from the counter, and sits in the heavy chair that she’s sure probably costed an unreasonable amount.

“So what are they like?” She asks. Shawn raises an eyebrow, looking at her in confusion before she elaborates.

“Your friends, tell me about them.”

Shawn’s face quickly switches in realization as he smiles and begins speaking.

“Well they’re the best. I mean, i’ve been friends with them since I was practically a baby. Brian, Matt, and Ian all go to Trent. And they can be just a tad bit stupid, but so can all college guys, so just forgive them if they act a little off.”

“They may bring some of their own college friends who I don’t even know, but if they’re anything like the boys they’ll be cool with whatever.”

Y/N giggles, cutting into her stack of syrup soaked pancakes before replying, “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t just a bit nervous.”

“You’re amazing baby, I know they’ll love you.” He reaches across the table, one hand lifting a forkful of pancakes up to his lips as the other grips her slim fingers in his own. She reaches for the can of whipped cream, spraying some all over her pancakes and then pressing the nozzle onto her lips and spraying some into her mouth.

He leans across the table, long legs making him able to press his lips to here that are lined with whipped cream.

“You missed a spot, princess.”

-

People start crowding in at around 7. A few boys show up with two six packs of beer and some glass bottles of different colored liquids. Y/N stands near the kitchen counter, lingering as everyone converses. They all know each other, and Shawn’s disappeared into the crowd of people, so Y/N shyly sips at the glass of bitter liquid in front of her.

Most of his friends, including Shawn, seem to be seated on the couch, laughing away at their old high school memories. Just as they’re done discussing a particular high school hockey game, she notices Shawn motioning towards her.

Not knowing what else to do, she walks over to where he’s seated on the couch, resting her hands on his relaxed shoulders.

“We met a few months ago and I didn’t grow the balls to ask her out until a month ago, she’s kind so don’t try to corrupt her like I know you all will do.” He shoots a playful glare at his friends and they let out friendly insults towards him.

“Nice to meet you.” She pathetically and awkwardly waves, immediately cursing herself after. Shawn grabs at her hands on his shoulders, pulling them forwards to kiss one of her knuckles before intertwining his fingers with hers around his neck.

The two of them stay like that for a while. Shawn’s friends talk about a number of subjects, Starting from Ian’s first kiss in 6th grade, to the time Brian got drunk for the first time and threw up the next day in one of the biology beakers from his hangover. Y/N laughs along with them, not conversing but absorbing the moment. She hears a small buzzing sound and her eyes shoot down to where Shawn’s phone is buzzing from a phone call.

“Excuse me gentlemen.” Shawn says, lifting himself from the center of the leather couch while using Ian and Matt’s knees for support.

“I’ll be right back, princess.” He tells Y/N, leaning forward to give her a peck on the lips. She lingers on the way how lips are soft, and slightly tainted with the taste of cheap beer.

When he walks away, she notices two girls at the corner of the room shooting her a confused look while talking amongst each other. She notices that the look doesn’t look disgusted, or angry, just simply confused.

She walks to the kitchen area, trying to wash the regrettable taste of whiskey off of her lips. Just as she’s poured herself a glass of water, one of the girls from before walks into the kitchen.

“Would you mind pouring me a glass as well?” She asks politely. She’s beautiful, short brown locks framing her small face perfectly. Her baggy button up shirt is fashionably tucked into her baggy jeans.

“No problem.” Y/N smiles, she could use a friend, especially one who was close to Shawn as well. She knew she’d be going to more of these ‘get togethers’ (excuses for friends to get drunk and talk about the dumb things they did in high school), and it would be good if she had people aside from her own thoughts to interact with.

She quickly fills a clear glass with water, handing it over to the girl who towers over her by a few inches.

“Y/N? I think your name was?” She asks, making small talk.

Y/N takes a sip of her drink, “Yeah, I don’t think I caught your name though.”

“Oh, it’s fine.” She laughs, “I’m Leah. And I was going to say I love your name, it’s beautiful.” She compliments sweetly. Y/N smiles, thanking her before asking her how she’s doing.

“Oh, m’alright. Finals week is really kicking everyone’s ass but I finished last week so i’m just a little less stressed than everyone else.” Y/N nods, her having studies for upwards of five hours the day before. Luckily Shawn had made her dinner, and reminded her to eat between study breaks.

They continue talking to each other about simple things. Y/N learns Leah was one of Shawn’s close friends from back home, and Leah dishes on all of the embarrassing things Shawn did as a child. She talks about the time he fell off of the tree that was in the playground of the elementary school, and how all the other kids praised him for his bravery. About how they all called him curly for a year in high school from the change in his hair, something he hates remembering.

“Shawn’s the sweetest. Did I tell you about the time he accidentally dropped an entire cake on Belle? It was their anniversary too, poor thing.” She laughs, “Probably why she dumped him.”

Y/N laughs initially, the realization not hitting her yet. But then she backtracks on Leah’s words and she can’t help but question, “Belle?”

Leah, who’s clearly just a bit tipsy as she’s been sipping on gin all night, answer quickly “Yeah, the model girl Shawn dated. Really kind, brunette, models in LA.”

Y/N’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion, her thoughts jumbling up. As far as she was concerned, she’d never heard of Shawn dating a girl named Belle before. She was familiar with Lauren, his first real girlfriend, and she was familiar with his publicity relationships and his flings, but not with this girl.

“You know, I assumed he had a type. She was so incredibly nice and he’d always be wrapping his arms around her and PDA-ing at all of our get togethers. I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t adorable, really reminds me of you two actually.” Y/N knows Leah doesn’t mean to deepen her confusion, as she continues to senselessly ramble without knowing what she’s saying.

“Weird. Shawn’s never mentioned her to me.” Y/N quietly says, staring at the floor tiles and shuffling with her sock clad feet. Shawn hadn’t ever even mentioned the name before.

“I think we were all a bit surprised when he mentioned he’d been dating a girl for a whole month. Belle dumped him, what was it? 2 months ago I think?” She sips at her glass again, “He was devastated, Brian told me he even thought he loved her.”

Leah reaches for a different glass, one with a caramel colored liquid and she pours it into what was initially her water glass, “Want a pour?” She asks hazily. Y/N shakes her head, her mind hurting from processing all of the new information.

“I’ve never heard of her before.” Y/N doesn’t want to face the facts but it seems as if they’re laid out right in front of her. She can’t help it when her stomach twists up into knots, soaking up the information.

He’d started talking to her around two months ago. They’d become official in just a month, Y/N knew that there was no way he would’ve completely gotten over a girl in that time, especially one who seemed that serious.

“And he calls you princess too, that was so…” Leah stumbles on her words, slurring a bit, “...confusing”

“Why’s that?” Shawn had called her that for as long as she remembered. She could recall him opening the door to his jeep for her on the first date and calling her by the name, could remember him sneaking up behind her on dates and calling her that name.

“Well, you see Belle is the name of a Disney princess. Belle loved those movies, that’s why he called her that.” Leah explains, and Y/N can feel her heart practically break. She doesn’t want to believe it, really doesn’t, but she can’t help herself.

“He even took her to Disney world for her birthday. He’d call her that so much that people would think her name was actually princess.” Leah laughs to herself, “And it’s like...like..you two are so similar and now he calls you that too?” Her eyebrows raise, “Awkward.”

Y/N doesn’t listen to any more before shuffling quickly out of the kitchen into the living room where his friends are all drunkenly singing along to some song on his couch. Her fingers are shaking with fear, and she tries not to showcase it by tucking her hands into her pockets.

“Have any of you seen Shawn?” She asks, and all of them are too inebriated to give her an answer. They continue either talking, laughing a bit too loudly, or singing along to the out of date song.

“Haven’t seen him since he picked up that phone call.” Geoff tells her, his arm around a skinny blonde woman. They seem to be sober enough to keep their minds intact, and Y/N walks towards the door to Shawn’s bedroom, hearing his voice speak.

She stops, pressing her ear onto the crack of the door softly.

“I thought you would be here”

Y/N isn’t sure who he’s talking to, but she mentally battles inside her head whether she should barge in or not. On one hand, her mind is practically exploding with thought, but on the other, she wants to talk with her boyfriend to discuss things with him.

“You’re in Toronto right? When do you go back to LA?”

She snaps out of her thoughts, listening in more intently on his conversation. She knows she shouldn’t be doing this, eavesdropping on her boyfriend’s conversation, but she catches herself looking for answers.

“Princess, everyone wants you here.” She hears him say and her heart breaks just a little bit. She unwillingly feels tears well up in her eyes, hand shooting up to her head as she feels herself getting worked up.

“Belle I miss you.” She hears through the doorway and she knows there’s no way what Leah said was wrong. She hopes she misheard what she said, wnts to wish for the best. She thinks any tragic event would be better than what she feels right now, but instead she scrunches her hands up in her hair, tangling it up as she lets a tear fall.

Leaning her body against the door to his room, she slides down it. Her back presses against the cool wood and she doesn’t want to cry, really doesn’t want to let her tears fall, especially on the night when she’s meeting his friends for the first time but it all hits her at once.

She was a rebound.

It was clearly there to see, and now Y/N understands. She notices why, of all the times he’d walked into the bookstore she studied at, he chose that one to ask her out. She understood why he was so incredibly kind to her, so understanding and caring. She knew now why he’d chosen her of all the girls he could possibly have. Because she was easy.

She cries as she remembers every moment they shared. It all makes sense, that time he asked if she wanted to have a Disney movie marathon. She thought he was being sweet, but instead he was selfishly bathing in his own fantasy of what he used to have.

“Princess, you’re the only girl who’s made me feel this way.”

She can’t help but think he closed his eyes, not to bask in the moment, but to pretend the girl he was saying those words to wasn’t her.

“Princess, you’re my favorite person.”

Right after they’d been intimate for the first time, she remembered him gently  caressing where her back met her neck, cradling her in his arms. She imagines that’s what he must’ve done with someone else, someone he probably really loved.

She doesn’t have time to think, however, because the door abruptly opens from behind her and she last minute pushes herself up by her hands, sitting on the ground as Shawn towers over her, startled.

“Y/N, what are you doing here?” Hs eyes are wide as he studies her expression carefully, and his features turn to concern.

“Princess, are you crying? What happened?”

Princess.

Y/N almost scoffs. In fact, she would scoff if it weren’t for how dry her throat was from all of the sobbing.

“Belle, huh?” She croaks out, lifting herself off the ground to stand in front of him. She sees Shawn noticeably gulp and she  lets herself dribble a few more tears. She knew his answer at that point.

“Was I just a rebound?” She asks quietly, her eyes looking anywhere but at him. They’re bloodshot, and there are tear stains on her navy shirt as she questions him.

“Of course not. Let me explain, you know I wouldn’t do that to you.” He grabs at her hands, trying to uncross them from her chest.

“Princess, pl-”

“Don’t fucking call me that!” Y/N snaps, flinging her arms forward to shake off his grasp. Shawn steps back startled, because he’d never seen his girlfriend act that way towards him before. She was always more quiet. She cared for other people, and seemingly never got angry, no matter how much she had the right to be.

“Don’t call me that when-” She gasps for air through her sobs, “Don’t c-call me that when you only do b-because of h-her.” She swipes at her tears with the back of her hand.

Shawn’s heart breaks in front of him. He’d gotten off the call with Belle, yes. And he’d said he missed her, yes. But he only invited her so he could tell her in person she didn’t hold a place in his heart anymore. For the past week, she’d been trying to contact him to get back together with him, but Shawn knew that what he had with Y/N was undeniably special. So he’d invited her, yes, and he’d told her he missed her, yes, because he did, but he didn’t miss her to get back together with her. He missed her because he needed to talk to her. To tell her that she shouldn’t call anymore, and to perhaps show her that he was happy with someone else.

He never meant for Y/N to find out this way, or at all. His palms can’t help but sweat a bit as he sees her crying in front of him because he doesn’t know how to fix it. He doesn’t know how to explain to her that, while at first, he did use her to get over someone else in a twisted, devious way, that he had fallen for her completely in the process.

“I feel horrible, Shawn.” She sniffles, fists uncurling and curling again at her sides, a tactic she uses to try not to cry.

“You used me, and when that wasn’t enough you tried to pretend like I was her to make yourself feel better.” She grips her teeth into her bottom lip, something Shawn would find attractive and adorable normally, but something that stresses him out now.

“Let me explain, please, you have to let me explain. Let me talk to you.” He reaches forward to hold her but she flinches and backs away.

“Please, I-”

She cuts him off, “And if that wasn’t enough, you proceeded to fucking - to just lie to me about the whole thing? As if I wouldn’t find out? As if I wouldn’t find out that you call me princess because of her and that you dated me because of her and watched Disney movies with me, because of her?” There’s venom in her words as she fires at him.

“What can I do? Tell me what I can do to fix this?” His voice quiets and he practically whimpers when he talks to her. He knows she’ll leave, and that’s the last thing he wants, especially after being dumped carelessly by Belle, he doesn’t want to lose someone else he genuinely cares about, especially from his own actions.

“I thought you liked me.” She pathetically squeaks out, almost laughing to herself, “I actually thought you were different.”

Turning around, she immediately struts back to the living room to grab her purse and leave. Shawn races right behind her, and when his friends notice the tears streaming across her face and the puffy red skin on her cheeks, they all quiet down their drunken chatter.

“Please don’t leave.” Shawn calls out behind her, tears matching her own. His friends noticeably widen their eyes. Even when him and Belle had broken up he never publicly cried in front of everyone else. In fact, he hadn’t publicly cried at all, really. It was more of him sulking for a bit before he looked for ways to get over her.

Meeting Y/N had made him realize that relationships weren’t supposed to be constant adventure, but were also supposed to be a certain level of comfort. Something she provided to him when she actually listened, and showcased her care for him.

“It was nice meeting you all. I don’t think i’ll be coming back here though.” She tries to smile past puffy cheeks and swollen eyes, slipping on her shoes and trying to open the door. When she swings it bac, she sees Shawn reach out to stop the door from opening fully.

“You’re not her, you’re better. Let me explain.” He asks her, and he receives an answer when she walks out of the condo and lets the door click right behind her.

[kusunogatari-a]

[ SasuHinaMonth Day Twenty-Nine: Mafia AU ] [ @sasuhinamonth ] [ Uchiha Sasuke, Uchiha Fugaku, Hyūga Hiashi, Hyūga Hinata ] [ SasuHina ] [ Verse: Best Years of Your Life ]

“Get up. We have somewhere to be.”

Opening an eye to glance at his father from his comfortable perch in a lounge chair, expression tinged with obvious annoyance, Sasuke mutters, “Tch...what?”

“Curb that attitude.” Adjusting his tie, the Uchiha syndicate head examines his reflection before glancing to his son. “...we have a client to visit.”

“What’s that got to do with me?”

“It’s good experience. You’ll have to do this someday.”

The blunt announcement only sours the young man’s attitude further. Being reminded of his brother’s disabilities is never a good thing. “...fine,” he spits in reply. But as he moves to head toward the garage, his father grunts in disapproval.

“We’re taking the helicopter.”

A dark brow perks, but he doesn’t protest. Apparently, they’re to make an impression. Maybe this will be interesting. “...who are we going to see?” It must be someone important, if such a means of transport is to be taken.

“You’ll see.”

They make their way to the manor roof, where the chopper is already whirring. The spinning blades throw his father’s hair askew, his own already a mess on the best of days. Clothes ruffle at the force of the wind until they make their way into the interior. The ground soon lurches away beneath them, and they take to the air.

It’s early evening, the sky beginning to darken as they fly across the city. Skyscrapers and antennae obscure the skyline. Watching the passing sights, Sasuke observes each, wondering where they’ll land. Logos and symbols whizz past, until they begin to circle a pristine white building with windows that reflect the fading sun.

So...it’s the Hyūga. Another large, wealthy family...but through more legitimate means than his own. The Uchiha, after all, are mostly Yakuza. The Hyūga are businessmen. Though, apparently, not without a little underground help.

A few minutes later, they’ve landed, meeting an escort atop the roof. Several pale-eyed men watch them warily, thinly-veiled disgust on their faces. Fugaku largely ignores it - apparently, not everyone in the business approves of their arrangement...whatever it is.

Despite being slated as the next kumichō, Sasuke has yet to be fully introduced to the syndicate’s dealings. Up until recently, it was his brother who was assumed to be the next boss. But an onsetting illness has led to a shift in his father’s favor.

Nothing personal. It’s just how it has to be.

Nonetheless, it’s left Sasuke with some catching up to do. For now, he has almost no idea how exactly they’re tied to the Hyūga. The Uchiha’s main commodity is protection racketing. If he had to guess, that’s likely what’s going on. The Hyūga, apparently, haven’t gotten to be so successful on their own.

This he mulls over as they make their way down via elevator, expression neutral with a tinge of aloofness. Let on that he’s a fledgling, it will only make their meeting all the harder. It’s clear Fugaku has a message to deliver...and this, apparently, is to serve as both a lesson, and a test for his younger son.

Eventually they find themselves outside a set of double doors. One Hyūga makes his way through them, and they can just hear the soft murmur of voices. Then silence...before they’re let inside.

An ornate office is revealed, all sheer glass, cool marble, and cold steel. At a desk at the end of the room sits a man about his father’s age, with the same pale eyes as the others, and a head of long, chestnut hair. He looks to them with an expression as unfeeling as his surroundings. “...Uchiha-san. What a...pleasant surprise.”

Regarding the man with a heavy brow, Fugaku doesn’t return the sentiment. “Your payment is late, Hyūga. I was concerned your memory was starting to suffer. So...I made a little trek across the city to make sure you’re still in your right senses.”

Pale, thin fingers steeple, elbows atop the glass top of his desk. “...my memory fares fine. My stocks, however, do not. I am yet short of the monthly agreement. I have been assured that, within the week, this...oversight will be corrected.”

Drawing a deep breath, Fugaku releases it as an equally-deep sigh. His chin bows to his chest, making a show of his disappointment.

The other Hyūga shift, clearly unnerved.

“...that’s too bad. A company needs to run like a well-oiled clock. Lost time sets you back...and needs to be corrected.”

There’s a slight clench to Hiashi’s jaw. “...no one realizes this more than me. I assure you, Uchiha-san, that I will -”

“Time is money, and money buys time. If you lack one, you lack the other...and I can’t afford to waste mine. I know of other rising companies in your field that might respect schedules a bit better, Hyūga. I don’t deal with those who can’t keep their ends of our bargains. Need I remind you what you owe me?”

“...that will not be necessary.”

“How is she, by the way? Your girl? What was her name...Hanako...Hiromi…”

“Hinata. She is fine.”

“Ah, good...good. No more incidents with the other syndicates?”

“...I feel you are alluding to something, Uchiha-san.”

“You have to care for family, Hyūga. You never know when it might...disappear.”

Sasuke’s eyes shift to their corners. What is he getting at…?

“...your retrieval of my daughter from the Kumo faction of Hokkaidō is still much appreciated, Uchiha-san. But that is not all I pay you for.”

“No, it’s not. You pay for protection, Hyūga. Assurance that those who would compete with you meet...unfortunate pitfalls that drop them out of the economic running. Failing negotiations, lost funds...and the occasional disappearance of important personnel. But...I can’t provide my services if you don’t provide the money. A week’s delay in my business could be a week spent acquiring new clients. Clients who, incidentally, might force my hand to begin taking from you, instead. And surely...neither of us want that. But money talks, Hiashi. So...can I expect my money by midnight? Or should I go ahead with my arranged meeting with another medical equipment manufacturer I have scheduled for tomorrow morning at nine am?”

A tense silence falls.

“...tell me, Hiashi…” Fugaku’s dark eyes stare into the Hyūga’s pale ones. “...when was the last time you checked in on your daughter…?”

No reply.

“Those socialite friends of hers surely keep her up late...but I’d hope she gets home by midnight. The city’s a scary place at night.” With that, the kumichō turns his back on his client, making his way to the door with a nod to his son. “...keep my advice in mind, Hyūga. I recommend getting your schedule back in order. I, at least, plan to stick to mine.”

Sasuke follows as his father returns to the elevator. No Hyūga bother to show them the way back. The blades spin as they make their way to the roof.

“So...learn anything?”

“...I think so. But what was all the fuss about the girl?”

Fugaku only replies once they’re in the chopper. “...when she was young, very young...an up-and-coming faction in the north kidnapped his daughter, intended to hold her for ransom. This was during the early days of our arrangement. As a show of good faith, I sent one of our boys to retrieve her, and it went off without a hitch...unless you count his twin brother dying in the raid. Fool went in to try and negotiate. Things got dicey, and he ended up a casualty. Not that it mattered - Hiashi was more concerned about keeping the company in his family, so a dead brother was actually preferable to a dead daughter. Hizashi, his twin, has a son. A bit more appealing to a board of trustees, but...he’s less direct now than Hizashi would have been.” The Uchiha smirks. “...a handy bargaining tool. Hiashi has one other daughter, but she’s less appealing - headstrong, brash...already has a questionable public image. A board would rather have Hinata, who’s meek and easy to manipulate.”

“...and…?”

“...and she may be joining us for dinner while her father arranges his monetary affairs tonight.”

Sasuke blinks. His father certainly knows how to keep all the cards...something he’d best learn quick.

When they return, they descend to the entryway. There, flanked by two burly Uchiha, is the young woman in question. Despite the tinge of fear in her eyes, she holds herself steady, head held high.

“...Hyūga Hinata-san,” Fugaku rumbles. “...a pleasure to see you. How you’ve grown since we last met.”

She gives no reply.

“Don’t worry - I expect you’ll be back home within a matter of hours. Your father just needed a little...motivation to get his work done tonight. Until then, you’re my guest. I’d never dare harm a lady, no matter her father’s behavior. Please...I’m sure dinner is ready by now.” Fugaku gestures. “I doubt you remember my son, Sasuke. You were both fairly small when we brought you back from Hokkaidō. He’s done his share of growing up, too.”

Her pale eyes move to him, and the pair study one another silently. He’ll admit...she’s pretty. Not overly done-up like so many women her age tend to be...yet elegant. And despite her obvious nerves...it’s clear there’s a fire there.

Even if neither of their fathers seem to see it.

“Come - we can’t let the meal get cold.” Fugaku motions for them to follow.

Giving her companions a glance, Hinata moves forward without them, instead positioning herself beside Sasuke.

“...best do what the old man says. Consider it a break in what’s certainly your life’s monotony.”

At that, she gives him a questioning look...but doesn’t refute him.

“After all, how often do you get to dine with the head of mafia and not have to fear for your life?”

     Word count: 1650      Cumulative: 39,436      This was actually a lot more fun to write than I thought it would be xD Admittedly, I know very little about the Yakuza, so...I scoured the Wikipedia page about them, and...did my best, lol      Sadly I don’t have a verse for this, so this one is the closest I have. Though this might be one I revisit with this and other characters. We’ll see! But for now, this is all I’ve got in me for tonight. I want to do the last two all tomorrow, but I don’t know if I’ll have the time. Either way, I’ll do my best to finish up the last two prompts as quickly as I can manage!      For now, later y’all!

[butmemostly]

Girlsies Week Day 2: Modern Era | @girlsiesweek

The Newsies in high school participate in the National Student Walkout despite their principal’s wishes. 

reblog & support me on ao3 if you enjoy!

• • •

The number of students that showed up to the walkout meeting was incredible. Miss Larkin, though technically not allowed to help them, allowed a band of students to use her classroom if they wanted to organize a student walkout. In all honesty, Katherine only expected it to be her and her close friends but was shocked when she entered the room to see nearly every seat filled. Kids from every grade level sat in the room, chatting amongst themselves. Katherine went and sat next to Sarah.

“Thanks for saving me a seat,” Katherine said, smiling. She dumped her bag on the floor and sat down.

“No problem,” Sarah replied. “How’s your speech going?” Katherine inhaled through her teeth, and Sarah laughed. “Not good?”

“No, no, it’s fine,” Katherine waved her off, “I’m just nervous.”

“Don’t be, you’ll be fine,” Sarah said.

Before Katherine could reply, Miss Larkin stood up and got everyone’s attention.

“Hello, children! My, what a lovely bunch we have here!” She grinned from ear to ear and scanned the room. “I see we’ve got Jack with us, and Davey, and Hannah, and – oh, and is that Romeo back there?” She laughed jovially. “And I see plenty of new faces, as well!” Her eyes swept over the room, taking in all the familiar and unfamiliar students she hosted. “Well, regardless of whether you know me or not, you all know Mr. Pulitzer’s stance on this event, don’t you?”

Many students nodded, some solemn, some angry. A couple of the rowdier kids shouted out insults.

“Well, this little meeting is between us, alright?” She said. She stared at them all, making sure they got the point stuck in their head. “This is a student-led organization – I’m not involved what-so-ev-er, I’m just letting you use my room. Got it?”

“Yes, Miss Larkin!”

“Alright. Why don’t we start by throwing around ideas?”

The kids in the room all began to share their vision for the walkout. Miss Larkin let Hannah use her desktop to list out the ideas on a document, which was then shared with all the other kids. Ideas were thrown left and right, and It was clear in their eyes that they were passionate, that they were willing to face any punishment they were threatened with.

At some point, they got on the topic of guest speakers. Miss Larkin asked if anyone was interested in speaking, and Katherine slowly raised her hand.

“Ah, Miss Katherine!” Miss Larkin clapped her hands together. “You would like to speak?”

“Yes ma’am,” Katherine replied. “I have a rough draft, actually, would you like me to read it?”

“Of course!” She said. She gestured in a go right ahead motion, and Katherine opened up her notebook to her speech. Katherine took a deep breath, then began to read. The room was quiet, listening to her words forged out of anger and impatience. The speech was short, only a few paragraphs, and she finished before she knew it. The classroom applauded, some giving various shouts of approval.

Katherine smiled, very modest, and thanked the room. Sarah gave her a bump on the shoulder that translated to good job! As the others gave suggestions for her speech, she wrote them down in her notebook and bounced back ideas off of the suggestions. It worked rather well, and by the time they were done, Katherine had a plethora of things to add to her draft.

The next meeting was exactly a week later. Katherine, Sarah, and Hannah met up as soon as they were dismissed and walked to the drama room together. There weren’t as many kids this time – all the less passionate ones had been weeded out. Now they were left with mostly the theatre kids, SGA kids, chorus kids, yearbook kids, and some others; all fired up and ready to take on the world.

Once the meeting started, the students began to narrow down all their ideas, and focus on which they wanted to do and how it was going to be done. Ideas were still all over the place, but they were getting there.

Katherine began to take charge. She stood up and read a revised version of her speech, and listened to any remaining suggestions her peers had to offer. Then, as they continued along, she gave suggestions on what to change and how to organize things. She started a big group chat with all of them in it, and then they could plan even when they weren’t in a meeting.

Everyone spread the word on social media: Walkout on March 14th, 10:00 am at the front gate. They told their friends and posted it on Snapchat, Instagram, and Twitter. If they wanted to prove to Mr. Pulitzer that they mean business, they needed as many kids on board as possible.

The next meeting was on the Friday before the walkout. The meeting began as usual, and the group started to form a schedule for the walkout. Sarah stood at the whiteboard, listing off the events: introduction, 3 minutes; honoring the victims followed by a moment of silence, 3 minutes; Katherine’s speech, 5 minutes; chanting, 6 minutes. Jack, a theatre techie, planned on getting a mic and speaker to hook up beforehand – and, as the Junior Class President, was willing to present the introductory speech at the start of the walkout (written by Davey, the Junior Class VP, of course). Katherine told all her friends in yearbook to be there with their cameras, and Sarah helped Katherine finish her speech. They were getting everything figured out and ready for Wednesday.

Suddenly, the door swung open.

The kids didn’t bother at first, assuming it was just Miss Larkin coming back from the restroom, but then a deep voice boomed across the room.

“Well, well, well. What do we have here?”

Everyone froze. There in the doorway stood the principal, Mr. Pulitzer.

He stepped slowly into the room, taking a good look at each student. Everyone stood silently, brewing in their anger, hatred, and fear – it radiated off their bodies like heat, changing the very atmosphere of the room. Mr. Pulitzer either didn’t notice it or didn’t care (probably the latter). He put one hand on his hip and leaned the other against a desk, with a very menacing smile plastered on his face.

After a horrible, horrible moment of silence, he finally spoke. “I told you all that events of these kinds will not be permitted at this school,” he said. His eyes swept over the room, looking at each student to make sure his point was clear. “Unless you children want to be suspended, I suggest you disband this at once.”

“How’d you find out?”

Everyone turned towards the voice – Sarah Jacobs. She stood tall, making fierce eye contact with the principal.

Mr. Pulitzer smiled as if he expected the question to arise (he did, of course). “You kids and your social media,” he said, shaking his head with a laugh. “You think that an old man like me doesn’t know how your brains work? Our deans have their eyes all over your profiles – your Snapchats, your Tweets, everything.”

Their eyes widened, and the silence continued. All their hearts beat collectively; a quick, pounding sound in their ears.

“You can’t stop us now,” Jack said, “Word’s already out.”

“Oh, no, I can’t stop you,” Mr. Pulitzer said, “But you can.”

The kids blinked at him questioningly. He cleared his throat and continued.

“You kids go back onto your Snapchats, and your Instagrams,” he said, “and tell all your friends that the walkout is off.”

"Yeah, and what if we don’t?”

“Then your colleges will see a three-day suspension for insubordination on your permanent record.”

No one said anything to this. Any remaining fear in the room had long since burned into hatred. Mr. Pulitzer seemed quite satisfied with the looks on their faces.

Jack took a step forward, full of rage. “You can’t just be quiet about this! Kids are dying in schools, a place where we come to learn! That just ain’t right! You’re trying to silence us for wanting the right to be safe?”

“I will not allow this school to become involved in this political scheme!” Pulitzer yelled. Everyone flinched. “We are tightening security, we are doing monthly searches, we are doing active shooter drills. I am doing what I can to make this school safer.”

“That ain’t enough!”

Mr. Pulitzer regained his composure, and his unsettling smile returned. “Ah, Mr. Jack Kelly. Suspended for fighting and encouraging delinquent behavior,” he began to pace around the room, and Jack had a terrible look on his face. The principal stopped again and faced the boy. “If you’re planning on adding this to your record as well, I might as well have you expelled!”

“They was bullies!” Jack yelled. He squeezed his eyes shut. “Them stupid brothers, beating up on… on–“ Jack shook the thought out of his head and looked back up at Mr. Pulitzer. “They was bullies,” he repeated, “and you ain’t no better.”

Everyone stood, shocked, quiet. Mr. Pulitzer’s casually wicked smile was gone, now replaced with disgust and malice. He looked up at the rest of the students.

“Tell all your friends that the walkout is canceled,” he said. “Otherwise, you will suffer the consequences.”

Silence. Not a breath, heartbeat, or pin-drop.

Sarah stepped forward.

“Alright,” she said. All heads turned towards her, mouths agape. “We’ll do it.”

“Sarah–“ Davey started.

“No,” she interrupted. She turned around and faced all of her classmates, back to Pulitzer. “We’re going to college soon, and we don’t want this to be the thing that denies us our chance of getting into our dream schools.” Sarah stared at each kid, eyes wide and screaming what words could not. Go with it, they said, trust me. “Right guys?”

One by one, the students reluctantly nodded. Eventually, Mr. Pulitzer seemed satisfied.

“Alright, children. Out we go,” he said, holding the door open. The kids sluggishly gathered their things and walked out the door. Mr. Pulitzer made sure they all made it out the front gate, then let them go. As soon as they were all out, Sarah motioned for them all to gather ‘round.

“We’re not actually canceling this, are we?” Hannah asked.

“No, no, of course not,” Sarah replied. “I got a plan… though I don’t have all of it.”

“Well, let’s hear it, and we’ll fill in the rest,” Katherine said with a smile. Sarah smiled back.

“Alright, well here’s what I’m thinking…”

• • •

On Monday evening, after all the teachers had headed home, the gang met up at a side entrance to the school. At 5:00 pm, a janitor opened the door for the kids, right on schedule. They made their way to the yearbook room.

“Is he okay with this?” One of the boys asked. “Ain’t he gonna get fired if they catch him?”

“He put in his two-weeks’ notice eleven days ago,” Katherine said with confidence. “I heard my dad talking about it just last Sunday. Trust me, it’s nothing.”

They got to the room, flicked the lights on, and turned on one of the computers. Katherine stuck her flash drive in, opened up a document, and turned on the printer. “I’ll get these going,” she said, “Jack, you go get supplies for the banner from drama and bring them back here. When you’re back, we’ll let you know the setup plan.”

“Got it,” Jack said. He tipped his hat then ran out the door.

Katherine pulled up a map of the school on the computer and motioned for the group to gather around. She grabbed her pencil from behind her ear. “Okay, you all heard Mr. Pulitzer’s announcement yesterday, right?”

“Yeah, he said he’d suspend anyone that went to the walkout!”

Katherine took her pencil and pointed at the front gate on the map. “This is where we had the walkout planned before. So, Pulitzer’s probably going to have that area on watch to catch anyone that shows up. With administration’s attention over there, we’ll have the walkout over here.” She tapped on a space between two of the buildings. “Pulitzer’s office is in building one, right here. So, we take our walkout to this courtyard, right outside his window.”

“Wait, why would we do that? Won’t he suspend us?”

“Not if there’s enough of us,” Katherine said. “Think about it – if we get the whole school involved in this, what’s he going to do about it? Suspend ninety percent of the student population? I don’t think so.”

“But how’re we gonna tell people to go there if they look at our social media?”

“Then we don’t use social media,” Sarah stepped in. “That’s why I wrote this,” she motioned to the document that Katherine pulled up. “Fellow Students,” she read, “Mr. Pulitzer has denied us our right to stay safe, to speak up for ourselves, unaffiliated with the employees of this school. Our lives are in danger due to the apathy and selfishness of adults. We joke that school feels like a jail now, but wait until we build larger gates, hire more police officers, and have mandatory backpack searches every other week. We are not addressing the problem, we are hiding from it. That is why we urge you to join us, on March 14th at 10:00 am at the courtyard, to stand up for yourself and for your safety. If enough of us come, we surely can change this school for the better.”

There was a stunned silence, then a burst of applause.

“Whoa, that was really good!”

“With this, and Jack’s banner, and Katherine’s speech, we will surely win!” Hannah said. Everyone cheered again.

Katherine cracked her knuckles. “Alright,” she said, determined, “let’s get started.”

She began to print hundreds of the fliers. As they printed, Katherine grabbed a stack of about 20 sheets at a time and handed them to one of the runners, who took the fliers and shoved them in lockers all down the halls and taped them onto the insides of bathroom stalls. Eventually, Jack came back to the yearbook room, lugging a bucket of paint supplies in one hand and a huge roll of paper over his shoulder. He set it down, rolled out a long banner across the floor, and got to work. Katherine monitored the printer’s paper and ink levels, while a few members of the gang kept watch just in case an administrator was still at school. The rest of the team used poster boards from the classroom and Jack’s paint supplies to create picket signs for the walkout. For an hour they danced through this routine until the last of the runners came back saying they finished. Katherine printed at least five more per person to hand out the next day, and everyone gathered their things to leave. A parade of kids helped carry Jack’s still-wet banner out the door, while everyone else got the signs. Outside the school, they bid each other good luck, and went their separate ways, ready for tomorrow.

• • •

The walkout hardly followed the plan they’d drafted on Friday: just before ten, a plethora of students walked out of their class. That morning, everyone opened their locker to find Sarah’s flier on their books. Students whispered about it all morning, and word got around. At 9:55 am, all the student organizers made posts on social media en masse – enough time to warn any oblivious students, and not enough time for the administration to see and get a grip. The students congregated in the courtyard, where Jack had set up the mic and speakers, and where Katherine, Sarah, Hannah, Jack, Davey, Race, Romeo, Crutchie, Jojo, Smalls, Sniper, Albert, Henry, Specs, and so many others held the banner together. They faced the building at Mr. Pulitzer’s office.

Mr. Pulitzer and the administrators, deans, and counselors were stationed near the front gate, waiting to see if any foolish students would even try. A minute or so passed, and they seemed proud of themselves – until they heard the loud voice of one Jack Kelly coming from somewhere inside the school.

They ran inside. A teacher came running down the hall towards them. “M-Mr. Pulitzer! The students!”

“What about them? Where are they?” He demanded.

“Look out your window!”

Mr. Pulitzer rushed into his office, to the window, and raised the blinds. Outside in the courtyard, nearly the entire population of the school faced him – in front, the students held a large banner that donned big crimson letters that read: We Will Find A Way.

Mr. Pulitzer’s attention then whipped to the gate surrounding the school – uninterested kids were using this event as a chance to hop the fence and leave school! He spun around in his office and faced the administration that gawked out the window behind him.

“Go catch those students!”

As a herd of deans ran out the office, Mr. Pulitzer looked back out the window.

At this point in their schedule, they were meant to have an introductory speech and list the names of the victims, but now, with their change of plans, the students stood, heads held high, and chanted. The minutes dragged on, and Mr. Pulitzer stared at the kids in disbelief, leaning heavily on the windowsill. The kids chanted, and chanted, and chanted.

After a while, Jack spoke into the microphone. “Okay, alright, looks like the old man’s getting tired of this. We don’t blame ya, Joe. That is why I’m handing the mic over to Katherine, here, to deliver a speech.” The sea of students clapped and cheered, and Katherine nervously took the microphone from Jack.

“Thank you, thank you,” she said. The cheers eventually quieted down, and Katherine looked between the crowd of students and her father in the window. She took a deep breath, unfolded her speech, and began to speak.

Still. That’s the best description of the air as Katherine spoke. Still. The students were quiet, the wind died down, and the only things that existed in that moment were Katherine’s words. She started off slow, and a bit quiet, but as she went on, her voice grew stronger and more confident. Passion, heart, anger, and hope lay behind her words. Her voice turned to spears, spears that struck the hearts and heads of the students that listened, that changed the very atmosphere of their school.

When she finished, the silence exploded into noise – cheers, claps, shouts, whistling; all sorts of noise exploded into the blank canvas of silence, engulfing Katherine in their ecstasy. She smiled, she smiled so wide, and spoke her thanks into the microphone. She looked over her shoulder, at her father in the window, and saw his expression – softer, thoughtful, almost… proud? Katherine grinned and turned back towards the students.

“Now, I would like to ask all of you for a moment of silence, to honor and remember the seventeen victims that died last month.” She said. The noise once again dialed down, and the canvas was wiped clean again.

Silence. Not a breath, heartbeat, or pin-drop.

Sadness, and fear. That was what everyone felt in that minute of silence. One day they were teenagers, trying to live the best years of their life, trying to get into school, trying to ignore the shitty world around them and enjoy themselves for as long as possible. Then, one day, the shitty world came to them, and they were forced to do something now. They were forced to stand up now. They were forced to open their eyes and accept the shitty world for how it is, and told not to do anything about it. Well, now they’re tired, tired of the shitty world being thrown in their face. It’s about time they do something about it.

The minute lasted a lifetime. Katherine’s voice into the microphone, thanking them for the time, was forced and unnatural. It was an awkward break to the silence that pulled them together.

But then, their voices began to rise. They once again chanted, demanding their voices to be heard because no one would listen to them otherwise. Together, their voices sang as one. Their hearts beat as one.

Mr. Pulitzer stood, one versus one.

Even as the clock ticked past 10:17, the students continued to stand. The teachers couldn’t do jack shit about it, and they didn’t try – they were shocked, dumbfounded, completely thrown off by the entire event. The students continued to chant, angry voices and signs demanded Pulitzer do something.

“Mr. Pulitzer, you have to do something!” One of the administrators said. Mr. Pulitzer slowly nodded, then motioned for the cluster of staff around him to back up. He opened the window and Katherine approached him.

“Katherine, dear, hand me the microphone, please.”

Katherine looked back at the students, then to her father, and hesitantly gave it to him. He cleared his throat, then spoke. He addressed the students; the hardworking, determined, stubborn students. He addressed their dedication, bravery, and possibly even stupidity to do what they did just now. But – he said – he had a change of mind. Seeing this, and hearing his daughter’s speech, he reconsidered the situation. He announced that he would not suspend all of them, for he had no means to do so, but they still had to make up their class time at some point since it was not a school-organized event. Overall, he was fair, but still remained the same old man that he was known to be.

“With Katherine’s words, I’ve changed my mind,” he said. He gave his daughter a small smile. “Not completely, but… enough.”

The students erupted into cheers. After the chaos died down, and the event adjourned, students were herded back to their classrooms. Even though they had to go back to class, and didn’t exactly do anything impactful or whatever, Katherine’s riveting speech still lingered in their minds. Her last words grabbed their hearts, touched their minds, and took them all by the hands and led them to the starting line.

We are the generation that inherits the future. What will you do to protect it?