#got curious after a while and looked only to find out she was half snake and he ran away. and!! my whole 7yo self was so confused because

[sualne]

snakeman luffy

[tomriddlehyperfixataion]

The summer of 1942 - Tom Riddle x reader - P4

=

Tom got bored easily, it had always been one of his…faults, he supposed. And when he got bored, he derived to one of three things. Stealing, exploring, and finding someone to entertain him.

He hadn’t really decided what to do yet.

It had been a week now since his arrival at the Prothero home, and he hadn’t exactly done much yet. He had read all his books, did all his school work, cleaned his room three times, cleaned the bathroom, did his laundry(which, there wasn’t much), visited Viper, sat outside with one of his already read books, took some books from Mr. Prothero’s small selection, and had some entertaining spats with Prothero.

He was bored-oh so very bored. So he put on his shoes and wandered outside, squinting his eyes at the warm summer sun that rolled over his face. It was warmer out here in the countryside, bright too; unlike the muggy gloom of London.

His ears caught the sound of a shriek and he turned, seeing the shelter yard-some of the horde running about with the dogs-another teen holding a water hose and spraying everyone down-laughing as they ran about-spewing curses and laughter.

Tom just blinked and turned away, tucking his book and diary further into the crook of his arm and making his way up the hill by the main road-finding a shady spot under a tree and sitting under it-resting his books on his lap and looking around.

It was hard to deny, this place was quite peaceful-but he supposed that was the point. Tom ended up writing his thoughts and the past week's events in his diary, mostly complaining to himself about being surrounded by rowdy muggles and a spiteful mudblood.

“Well, don’t you look comfortable?” Tom looked up from his diary, narrowing his eyes at the shadow above him. Prothero, with her shirt sleeves rolled up to her shoulders, was smiling at him-only a slight taunt behind her grin. She was sweaty and had a snake in her hands- a corn snake it looked like.

“Oh I am, the shade is quite delightful and the breeze just makes this a perfect spot for a nap,” Tom sneered with a grin, his eyes on the little corn snake-who stared back at him. Prothero snorted, rolling her eyes. He was very much taunting her for working In the summer sun, while he was free to relax as much as he wanted.

“Uh-huh, well, if you ever get bored of not doing anything productive, there's always a spot open at the shelter.” Tom snorted at the suggestion, rolling his eyes, snapping his diary shut and grabbing his book. “And get dog shit all over me? No thank you.”

Prothero mocked his snort and stepped back, looking down at the corn snake in her hands, which had curled up in her palms-soaking up the warmth. “Suit yourself, don’t melt Riddle.” Tom just stuck his tongue out at her back-pausing when he did. What an oddly immature gesture he just made-he never stuck out his tongue. Though he supposed Prothero brought out that childish side of him-with how childish she acted sometimes.

Eventually, Tom no longer felt like writing or reading, so he closed his books and stood, wiping his trousers clean before wandering about the field, the animals grazing within the fencing looking back at him when he got close enough-one of which was a large horse; brown and white with a long flowing mane. It was easily the biggest horse Tom had ever seen in real life, taller than the other horses around it too.

Tom froze as it rose its large head, its deep brown eyes staring into his soul. After a few moments, it huffed, strong and loud, and went back to grazing. Tom stared for a bit longer-and then shook his head, continuing to explore until he was bored, and he hadn’t even gone near the shelter.

-

Prothero collected curious things, stones, books of magic(from muggle imagination), bird feathers, blank books that were worn from age-waiting to be used, crystals, jewelry, leather cords(half of which were turned into bracelets), animal skulls, and many more things Tom could hardly name.

He was bored, but he had already explored the grounds, Prothero could only entertain him so much with their spats; and he was getting fidgety. So he took a few stones from Prothero's collection, and some of the leather bracelets-he wasn’t planning to keep them-he just…liked stealing things he supposed, and it would be entertaining to see how long it would take Prothero to notice her stuff was missing.

One hour, it took her one hour. Because one hour after he took those items-he noticed a few of his things missing. And he knew he hadn’t misplaced them, he was meticulous about his things-he had a list even, and he never put things in a place that he would forget about.

He found some of his books and his bloody WAND in her room(how in the bloody hell did Prothero get his wand?! He kept it on him at all times?!), with a huff and red cheeks-he took back his things and took a few more of hers, wishing he had the key to his room so he could lock it.

More of his things vanished; books, school work, socks, his bleeding trunk, his wand-again-, and even the few rings he had collected over the last five years(one of them being a gift from Malfoy).

Prothero looked all too proud upon the third day of this-thieving competition. He had most of her leather bracelets, all of the small crystals, a quarter of her books, some of those animal skulls(which he had to admit were kinda cool), and he had attempted to snatch her wand-but he had been unsuccessful, and he had to wonder how she got his wand(thrice now).

But she had all his books, all his work-his wand(AGAIN!!), most of his clothes(she wasn’t mean enough to take all of them), the sheets off his bed, his bloody diary, all his quills, pens, and pencils; she was leaving him with the bare minimum.

He would not be the one to give in, he would not lose, not so some-farm girl mudblood. But soon enough he had only a few pairs of clothes left; all of them winter wear. So here he was, sitting at breakfast wearing a long sleeve shirt and thick cotton pants, glaring at Prothero as she happily ate her food, his pencil in her hand as she doodled in a blank book.

He had rolled up his sleeves and wore her leather bracelets, showing off what he stole, which just made her snort and roll her eyes-her parents sighed at their new little spat-but at least they weren’t arguing. She stole an equal amount of his things that he stole from her-and since he didn’t have much, what little he stole from her ended up being nearly all his things when she returned the favor.

“you look…comfortable,” Prothero said as the day started getting warmer, the summer sun beating down on the house and field. Tom was flushed with heat and starting to sweat-but stubborn as he was, he refused to take off his shirt or ask for one of his short-sleeved ones back, he refused to show that he was bothered by it all. “I’m fine,” Tom muttered, sticking his hands in the sink-finishing up the dishes, baring his teeth a little as his sleeve drifted back down again.

Prothero just stared at him, and then held out her hand-glancing down at the leather bracelet he wore. Tom turned the water off and glared at her hand, and then realized what she was offering.

‘give me something of mine back, and I’ll return something of yours.’

A simple exchange.

Tom stared at Prothero for a long moment, and then he huffed, rolling his sleeves up further and turning away. He wouldn’t give up; he would not claim defeat.

As soon as he was up in his room-he took off his shirt, breathing sharply as his skin cooled instantly. He wasn’t stupid though, and if he wasn’t careful he might overheat and suffer from heat sickness. He had done it before-when he was nine-and he never wanted to do that again.

So he decided to stay in his room for the rest of the day, shirtless. But he had none of his books, no school work to review, his wand was gone again; he had nothing to do. He glared at the stack of books of Prothero’s that he had stolen, and rolled his head back, he hadn’t touched them since he first stole them-her selection would not be his taste but…he was bored, and he had exhausted all his other means of entertainment.

He took a book off the top of the stack and began to read, prepared to hate it. But what he found was not some muggle writing or muggle magic book-but a handwritten book, about magic, real magic. It was dated from September 1st, 1941 to June 20th, 1942, and filled with everything Prothero had learned from the past year. There were chapters devoted to each class; such as transfiguration, astrology, defense against the dark arts, care for magical creatures, ancient runes,  history of magic, muggle studies(though that one had many notes of correction), charms, herbology, and potions.

Notes filled the blanks of each page, art between those notes; of potion reactions and ingredients, magical creatures, sigils of defensive spells, runes, quidditch rules, and house emblems; the book was just filled to the brim with knowledge-allowing Prothero to reread it at any point.

Tom read that book for hours, completely transfixed by the content within. Seeing her point of view on what they learned through the year was interesting, she took certain things differently than him-from basic charms to powerful offensive spells.

She was an extensive researcher, in a way that reminded him of himself, and the way he poured over books and books of every class he took-even if it only mildly interested him.

In the back of his mind, Tom resolved that he and Prothero were more alike than he thought, but he continued to read, and then he read the book from their previous year-their 4th year- and it was filled with all they learned in 4th year, and then he read 3rd year, then 2nd, then first.

The first was a bit rough, using muggle words to describe certain things and it was not as put together as the 5th book, but it was just as interesting for being written by a 11-year-old.

He almost wished he had been able to do the same-but he barely had the money to buy his diary as a 15th birthday present for himself, he would’ve never had the funds to buy enough blank books and ink to do such a thing.

Plus he didn’t have the artistic skill that Prothero had-several times he had expected the drawings to move-or jump out at him. some of them did-which impressed Tom, since the animation charm was actually quite difficult to do, even he hadn’t mastered it. There was a further version of it that was extremely difficult to do, Piertotum Locomotor; which was rumored to be attached to the armors before the great hall.

Tom indeed found a page dedicated to the charm in the 5th book, a suit of armor standing tall and strong in the right of the page-close to the binding. He had to wonder how much Prothero knew, if she could be just as knowledge hungry as he was-they were both from the muggle world after all, introduced into the wizarding world at 11 years old.

He would find one foolish if they didn’t research everything they could of a world they didn’t know-but had a blood right to. In the 2nd book, he found two pages dedicated to the basilisk-the king of serpents. Tom stared at this page for several minutes, absorbing all he could-there were notes in here not even he had found in his multi-year search for information on the chamber and its beast.

‘it is rumored that there is a chamber deep below Hogwarts, built by Slytherins founder, Salazar. Connected to that rumor-it is legend that there is a beast, a monster, within the chamber-placed by Salazar himself. A basilisk, the king of the serpents; with venom that can kill a grown man in just more than a minute and eyes that are rumored to instantly kill someone with just one glance-similar to the death curse. Theory; is the death curse derived from the basilisk eyes' power?‘

That was a very curious theory, and Tom was tempted to look into it when he could. But he was further pushed into curiosity by the page of the chamber, he didn’t know others wanted to know about it; much less a mudblood.

He snapped the current book he was reading shut as he heard footsteps running up the stairs-going towards his room. he looked at the window-it was already mid-afternoon, about the time Mrs. And Mr. Prothero would start making supper. And as of late-Tom had begun helping make it, out of boredom mostly.

He grabbed his shirt(which was really more of a jumper) and slid it on, leaving Prothero’s 5th year book on the bed and walking over to the door after hearing someone stop in front of it. he opened it before whoever it was could knock-a fist stopping right in front of his face-Prothero was wide-eyed and quickly reeled back her hand. “holy fuck you’re quiet,” she muttered, and Tom rose his brow at the curse, wondering what she wanted. “anyway-Moms starting supper, and wanted your help with the biscuits.” Tom slowly nodded again, and then followed Prothero’s gaze-landing on her books.

She was grinning when he looked back at her-and he hoped she couldn’t see the warmth on his cheeks as she chuckled. But she didn’t say a word, turning on her heel and going into the bathroom-taking a shower to clean herself from the long day at work.

Later that night-Tom found some of his summer clothes back on his bed, and in turn, he returned her bracelets and some of her books. A simple exchange; but he had the pride that she broke first.

….she took his bloody wand again.

-end of p4-

[driftward]

.relaxing

As the last echo faded away, Zoissette felt her muscles go slack, her mind go quiet, and the world go away.

Somehow, she knew this was it.

She had pushed as far as she could go. Lavender and her had traversed the rift, and the end of their journey was coming soon.

The had never quite made it to the thirteenth, never made it to any of the other shards, but that was alright. They had stayed together, stuck with one another, braved new places, traveled through strange worlds, been sifted by memory and challenged by doubt, and at the end, were still themselves.

They had been tried and tested and found to be true.

That would have to be more than enough.

grounded

Meya washed up by the sink, cleaning up after having brought sandwiches and drinks for the hardworking science crew. They were tired, and they were cranky, and Meya understood that, so she made sure to stop by frequently, and help out in any way she could, which in this case meant making sure they were being fed adequately.

While she was cleaning up, she heard a link come in over someone's pearl. Curious for any news, she turned her head slightly to listen.

"That was Archon Y'shtola," said Ryssthota. "She says she's got a way to find them, and wants to know if we can get the laboratory operational."

"You're joking," said Riven, hands on her hips as she glared up at Ryssthota. "Cait Sith installed the new nullstone only this morning, Apple only just got the nuolith array repaired, and we still can't get half of this equipment to run without a safety system shutting it down again!"

Meya only half-listened to Ryss and Riven's discussion - more of a rant, really - as her attention drifted to the laboratory's library. Judging from the state of the stacks, the sections on theory and experimentation had already been rifled through extensively while the science team tried to figure out exactly how Zoissette's device worked. Even beginning to figure that out was beyond Meya. However, she knew Zoissette. She would have extensive documentation available on every facet of the devices in the laboratory, from the equations and ideas behind it all to the simple instructions on how to operate it. She searched among the books until she found a section that had been overlooked. Procedure books. She opened one and flipped through it idly. No theory or math, no complex jargon beyond what Meya could decipher. Just step by step instructions. She spotted one labelled 'emergency recovery', and read it carefully.

Once she was satisfied she understood it enough, she traced her fingers along the steps, and began to follow them, one by one. Behind her the other scientists continued to bemoan their troubles.

"...and her experimentation notes are impossible! She details initial conditions, but not how to achieve them!" "Well, she probably assumed anyone following along would have their own setup and would know how to work it." "Fat lot of good that does us, we need to know how to work HER setup!" Meya nodded to herself, as she reset several systems, adjusting dials and knobs according to instruction.

She stood up, and looked up into an area of the machine she would find difficult to get to. Fortunately, Apple was already wedged in there, making adjustments. "Apple?" "Oh, hello Meya! Thanks for the sandwiches, I really appreciate it. Hey, whatcha got there?" Meya smiled up at Apple, and showed her the procedure book. "My pleasure. Would you happen to be able to adjust the nuolith array to these settings?" "Oh, sure, bring that closer, would you, let me just take a look... yeah, hang on."

Meya waited patiently while Apple snaked her arms up further into the device, fiddling with something or another.

"Huh. Slight negative flow to begin with. Wouldn't have expected that, but it looks like that made the overflow valves finally reset. That's kind of a relief, actually, that was giving me real trouble. Got anything else you need me to do?" "No, thank you Apple, that will be all. ...are you okay up there?"

"Oh yeah. I'm the smallest of the regular science team, so I'm pretty used to having to climb into places like this. Don't worry about me."

"Well, okay," said Meya, smiling at Apple. "I'm going to keep going if that's alright."

"Oh, sure, it's probably fine. Good luck."

Meya was no longer paying attention to the ranting behind her as she traced the last few steps in the procedure, carefully manipulating computer settings in the Allagan interface. She was not familiar with it entirely, but the procedure had alternative instructions that led her to interact with it through her tomephone. Soon enough, she was at the last step. A system wide reset. She checked over the instructions one last time, making sure she had followed them all diligently, and with a nod to herself, hit the execute button.

The laboratory went dark with a reverberation of loud thuds from various pieces of equipment.

The ranting stopped immediately, as the others - save Apple - looked around, suddenly worried. Ryssthota swore something to the Navigator, while Riven gasped.

Meya considered that next time, she should maybe warn them, but this time, she just watched calmly, counting down silently in her head.

Equipment vibrated. Aether flowed. The sounds of electronics coming to life hummed through the space while holographic panels glowed in the air.

Ryssthota and Riven looked around, dumbfounded.

Meya tucked the book away, and turned around, crossing her arms and suddenly feeling a bit self-conscious. She wanted her friend back, and what she had done seemed to work. She hoped it had worked.

"Does that help?" she asked.

[f4nd0m-fun]

So I've had a couple of AU ideas since I've gotten back into the fandom and I'm kinda curious on what people think about them.

Monster AU - Snake and Shifter

In which Ran is only half human and Shinichi is only partially inhuman. Shinichi is descended from a line of shapeshifters who have mixed with humans so long the shifting is more or less danger driven, so good deaging was more his subconscious trying to protect him than the actual poison, meaning AI also has something like this going on - what if all the Blacks are shapeshifters to some degree? Meanwhile, Ran's mother was a Naga while Mouri is a human. Not much going on here but Ran probably has a stronger sense of smell than a human but weaker than a Naga and eventually, tho it may take a bit, realizes that Conan and Shinichi have similar scents. If the drug/deaging changed his scent then maybe she doesn't notice until after he manages to temporarily return as Shinichi, and his smell is similar to Conan's. She joins in on trying to help him re-age or something. They also aren't the only creeches but I dunno what the others would be.

TLDR, Shinichi and Ai have shapeshifter DNA and Ran is half Naga, she realizes Conan and Shinichi are the dang person because of scent and starts helping him.

Immortal AU - Don't trust magic

This one is both the least different and the most, in a manner of speaking. Shinichi, in an attempt to permanently reage himself, manages to succeed far longer than any previous attempts, and returns to Ran to try and salvage their relationship. Something happens and there's a backfire of sorts, not only reverting Shinichi back to Conan in front of Ran but unknowingly affecting her as well. It's not immediately obvious but, within a few years, it's noticed that doesn't really seem to be aging. Eventually, Shinichi returns to his age naturally or something, and realizes that Ran still hasn't gotten any older, when she should look at least ten years older, and soon he stops aging as well - they're stuck at the age Shinichi was trying to return to. They probably end up trying to reverse the situation, not knowing what would happen if they do, but if they fail at least they have each other. Speaking of which, I want to give them a supernatural ability thqt only works when they're holding hands or something but that might be too much.

TLDR, Shinichi tries magic or something to reage but indeed him and Ran are immortally stuck at the Shinichi's actual age and they're probably trying to find a counter spell.

Shifter AU - Cat to Kitten

Shinichi has always been able to turn into a cat, but it's something he hid from even Ran. But when he gets deaged, he becomes stuck in his cat form. Ran eventually finds him and takes care of him, naming him Conan after Shinichi's favorite author. Eventually he regains a partially human form, and Ran helps him hide the ears and tail. From here the story continues relatively the same, but with two secrets on the line. Also, beach episodes but instead of staring at Ran or something he's chasing birds and trying to avoid the water.

TLDR, Shinichi can turn into a cat and got forced into the form of a kitten, eventually the normal events of the show happen but with attempts to hide his inhuman features included.

Time AU - Physical Flashbacks

Ran is the reincarnation of a goddess or demigoddess of time, but she can't control her abilities. Mostly she gets visions, but sometimes she'll end up a few hours or so in the past in a bit of a time loop until she figures out why. This has allowed her to save Conan several times, but most of he times saving him were merely her own mortal skills. Eventually this fails. She's found out the truth, but Shinichi is dying, and she keeps trying to change things, and it's just not working. Somehow, the next time she goes back, she ends up at the beginning, after Shinichi has already been shrunk though, and has to figure out what to do in the past to prevent that death from ever happening, while also trying to decide if she should tell Conan she knows he's Shinichi.

TLDR, Ran is a reincarnation of some divinity tied to time but she can't control her abilities, she ends up in the past when Conan first showed up after Shinichi died and is now trying to prevent that death

[feralego]

@wristful / @timetell sent "an exploratory kiss,  testing the waters between them" 

Luz jumps a little when she hears Logan's unexpected, 3 am entrance into the kitchen, but she warms at the sight of him. Happy to see that she'd not been the only one unable to sleep; happy in a bittersweet way to share the misery of insomnia with someone.

Even if it means she'd been caught in her little pajama shorts and camisole, her robe abandoned on the counter by the fridge to keep the too-long sleeves clean and clear of the stovetop.

"Hot chocolate?" she asks him, her voice too quiet for how far they are from the sprawling bedroom wings of the Westchester mansion. An old habit carried over from when she'd still lived with her step-father. "We just got marshmallows today. I threw the old ones out so Sean would stop throwing them at Josh."

Logan tells her, yes, he'd like some, and Luz pours a little extra milk, sugar, and chocolate into the pot on the stove, stirring it all together. And they chat a bit--avoiding the topic of what, exactly, was keeping them up--while Luz takes care not to scald the mixture.

They move to the window bench in the breakfast nook when the drinks are poured, and silence finds them there, weaving into the space between them while finish. It gets comfortable there, wound around them and holding them close. Working in tandem with the chill from the old windows to draw them closer together, until their knees bump together; until the sides of their thighs are flush against one another.

Luz blushes a little--literally glows a little--looking down into her lap, and her hair falls forward from where it had been tucked behind her ear. But Logan lifts a hand and sweeps the strands back into place, as though he can't stand not to look at her.

Pulling her head back up, she wets her lips and looks at him. Really looks at him.

Logan is familiar. He's a good friend. A comfortable companion. And she's not so naive as to not notice the way he watches her. But she's never really-- She's never really felt anything like this for him. And she is curious.

And so she moves in to kiss him, and she tastes the sweetness of the sugar and the warmth of the vanilla and the bitterness of the chocolate all lingering on his lips. All things she'd put there; things she'd given him to enjoy.

Perhaps she is one more thing she can give him, if he'll let her

Suddenly she's shifting, rocking further over onto her hip, one leg curling up onto the bench beneath her to get a better angle. A hand gripping lightly against his pajama top and the other laid gently against his face.

And just as Logan's shaking hands begin to stake claims of their own--one finding the curve of her hip, the other snaking around behind her waist--her empty mug thuds against the old rug on the floor, startling her for the second time that night, pulling her out of the moment and away from Logan.

Her heart beating furiously in her chest, she gets to her feet in record time, plucking the unbroken mug up off the floor with a rush of adrenaline.

"--oh, thank god," she breathes after examining the porcelain for chips, scuffs, anything that would have spelled trouble for her in her old household, all the while, her limbs fading in and out of view.

Only then, once she's sure there'd been no damage, does she look back at Logan, expression sheepish and half-transparent. Ghostly.

"I-- I'm sorry."

He won't see her again until the afternoon.

[amxranthiine]

imagine being the ex-friend of the slytherin crew. [she/her] (no voldy bc ew)

had this thought at 3am last night while fangirling with my friend last night. sorry for any errors <3

angst, mentions of parents disowning child, blood prejudice, mention of childhood/forbidden crush

- [ ] you had known draco, blaise, theo, pansy, astoria and daphne since you were very young.

- [ ] since you all were two to be exact. your parents were close and your birthdays weren't too far apart, so it was only natural that you all became a crew growing up, anxiously waiting for your eleventh birthdays.

- [ ] you all were inseparable. you learned to fly together, talk together, walk together... hell, you had all learned you were wizards together.

- [ ] you were always closer to blaise than the rest of the crew. you were younger than him, though not by much, and he seemed protective over you. as inseparable the rest of you were, blaise couldn't go anywhere without you, and the same goes for you to him.

- [ ] how ecstatic you were when you all got your hogwarts letters! you were going to be in the same year and hopefully, probably, the same house!

- [ ] it was expected of you all to be in slytherin, all coming from very long lines of prestigious pureblood serpents.

- [ ] the other six were more than confident that they would all be in slytherin together. you? not so much.

- [ ] you were very nervous, to say the least. you didn't portray the slytherin traits as much as the others.

- [ ] and when pansy or blaise would try to reassure you that it would be fine, you couldn't help but wonder if they were trying to convince you or themselves.

- [ ] and because you didn't portray the serpent traits, that made them all extremely protective of you. blaise especially, draco and theo coming close in second, and the girls just wanted to make sure you were okay.

- [ ] but the moment the sorting hat yelled out a name that wasn't slytherin, everything stopped.

- [ ] your friendships with your lifelong friends, your crush on blaise (okay, that didn't go away), everything you grew up with just... disappeared.

- [ ] your now ex-friends wanted nothing to do with you, even your parents didn't want to speak to you. your housemates were cruel, jesting about how you were a stain on their house, and a snake deep down.

- [ ] it was safe to say you had no one.

- [ ] the crew started being mean to you somewhere around christmas of first year. before then, they had just ignored you. just like everyone else.

- [ ] after christmas though... they seemed to have a new hatred for you.

- [ ] especially blaise, which hurt the most. you swore you were seeing things when you thought you saw sadness somewhere in his eyes whenever he was rude to you.

- [ ] you were alone for the remainder of first year, and for the first two months of second.

- [ ] that's when you met luna, neville and ginny. you guys were thick as thieves, and for the first time for two years, you were actually happy.

- [ ] of course, your childhood friends were still mean to you, nothing had really changed on that part. but you were... happier, and that hurt them. because you happier without them, and that wasn't how it was supposed to be.

- [ ] they supposed they should be glad that you were doing better. last year, they were going mad out of worry for you. apparently you had stayed at hogwarts for christmas out of request from your parents, and it was christmas day when the adults told the rest of them to stop associating with you.

- [ ] it remained fairly passive over the next few years, you remained close with luna, neville and ginny, and had even befriended the golden trio and the twins!

- [ ] the serpent squad didn't like that too much, but they supposed your current friends were better than no friends, and as long as you were happy, they were happy

- [ ] but they still continue their kind-of bullying. they weren't as cruel to you as they were to others, but words still hurt and boy do they have a snake's tongue on them.

- [ ] blaise could hardly stand being away from you but his mother had made him swear that he would not associate with you, the blood traitor.

- [ ] all he wanted to do was hold you, but he rather bullied you instead.

- [ ] it was the beginning of sixth year when draco and pansy had gone too far. the other four were just watching blankly, trying not to let their discomfort show as the two reprimanded you, mocked you, and insulted you in the middle of the great hall. calling you a blood traitor, a stain of your family name and house name, and even going as far as saying "no wonder your parents don't want you, just look at you!" while the all the slytherins around them laughed. or at least, pretended to.

- [ ] you had looked at them for a long time, teary eyed and red faced, just trying to understand what you did to deserve this. until you nodded your head, said "okay," and walked out of the great hall.

- [ ] they heard your friends call your name, your closest ones even running after you.

- [ ] theo and blaise looked like they were about to beat draco to death, astoria and daphne were just disappointed in pansy, they knew how much she missed you, and yet she ruined any chance of you forgiving them.

- [ ] blaise eventually decided against killing the blonde and ran after you, the rest following suit after a moment.

- [ ] it didn't take them long to find you, sobbing against a wall with your head in your hands, ginny, nev and luna all crowded around you. rubbing your back and whispering reassurances in your ear.

- [ ] "i don't know what i did to deserve that," you cried, sniffling as you wiped your nose on your sleeve and looked and ginny.

- [ ] "oh love, you didn't do anything," the ginger said, wrapping her arms around you.

- [ ] "don't listen to them, y/n! they're just prats!" assured nev, leaning against the wall awkwardly, with one hand on your back.

- [ ] luna played with your hair, "yeah, y/n, they don't deserve your love and kindness."

- [ ] "thank you guys. i mean it. without you three i don't know where i would be." you laughed, but no part of it was humorous.

- [ ] draco, being the blonde he was, decided it was a good time to intervene, "hopefully alive, haha."

- [ ] the six of them had come out from around the corner, feeling ashamed and wanting to hit themselves for making you cry.

- [ ] "what do you lot wanf? haven't you done enough?" asked ginny, placing herself in front of you.

- [ ] "yes but.."

- [ ] "no, you don't get to talk. now piss off before you do even more damage."

- [ ] "we just want to apologize," said blaise.

- [ ] you scoffed, "a bit late for that."

- [ ] pansy looked down, "we're really sorry, y/n, for what just happened and for everything the past six years. you know how our families are and they told us to stop talking to you... so we did."

- [ ] all feelings of sadness were gone now, pansy's words has ignited a flame within you, one you've been holding in for years.

- [ ] "stop talking to me? so that gave you permission to be bloody awful to me? merlin's beard, you six were worse than umbridge on her bad days! you could have just... i don't know, explained what happened in first year? and apologized for abandoning me? and maybe we could still be friends! but no, you lot ruined any chance of that ever happening again. so thank you for that." you paused to take a breath. your audience was wide eyed and shocked, not quite believing you had such anger in you... but oh man, you weren't done yet.

- [ ] "and let me just say, blaise, your insults hurt the most. merlin, i thought the world of you. i thought you were my everything. but that all just went away the moment you thought not associating with me, meant making my life a living hell."

- [ ] you were, once again, crying. you took a deep breath and sadness took over you once again, you mumbled an "excuse me" and took off down the corrider.

- [ ] the serpent squad was stunned. they hadn't realised what they did effected you that much. blaise was upset with himself, disappointed, even. he felt the same about you, even if you both were too young for it to be love, and now he knew he never get it pack.

- [ ] theo cleared his throat and tried looking anywhere but at the trio in front of them, who were looking at the six with anger and disappointment.

- [ ] "you guys couldn't even begin to understand what she's been through," neville said after moments of awkward silence. "not long after the sorting ceremory, her parents sent her a letter, practically disowning her. before that, you guys abandoned her. she was alone for nearly a year and a half before we met her. and by merlin she was a wreck."

- [ ] ginny and luna chuckled, not out of humor, but out of irony. this situation was similar to the situation you were in when you met them.

- [ ] neville ignored them, and the curious stares the six were giving him, and continued, this time fueled by anger.

- [ ] "we were the ones who picked up the pieces. we were the ones who made sure she didn't die after losing everything she had ever known. we were the ones who made her smile again, happy again. we picked up the pieces because you weren't there, and you were exactly what had caused it in the first place." neville spit out the last sentence as if it were venom, hoping to hurt them as much as they hurt you.

- [ ] they were all on the verge of tears, daphne and astoria were holding each other and looked to be in the most pain, because they missed you the most.

- [ ] "i hope you lot are happy with yourselves, you're about five years to late to the pity party."

[nationalharryleague]

Saturday Morning

Summary: Y/N and Harry spend a lovely Saturday in bed. 

Genre: FLUFF FLUFF FLUFF and a “Two for the Show” extra!! 

Word Count: 2.5K!

A/N: Two for the Show is by far my favorite and the most popular fic I’ve ever written and I just missed my babies so much I had to write an extra for them!! I owe my heart to my loves S @tobesolonely​ and Nat @harrystylescherry​ for reading this for me and reassuring me when I needed it!! I am very rusty so please be nice! You can find more of my writing in my masterlist and I really want to hear what you have to say about this one!!! Also hi soph <3 @theharriediaries

**Read Two for the Show first**

***

Saturday mornings had always been Y/N’s favorite.

When she was little, she always woke up to the smell of eggs and bacon coming from the kitchen up the hall (courtesy of her father being an early riser who always got a bit bored in the mornings). As she got older, she spent them sleeping in and trying to recharge from long days at school, basking in whatever peace she could get before exiting her room into the chaos of her loving--but crowded--household. When she got to college, Saturday mornings were reserved for dealing with hangovers, and once she moved to LA and her career began to take off, it was the only time she had for herself in her busy schedule.

Her love for Saturdays had only grown since she had moved in with Harry.

They always woke up slowly, basking in the quiet of their bedroom and the soft glow created by the light that streamed through the small crack in their blackout curtains. The pair were often a tangle of limbs by the morning, pressed together as close as they possibly could get, both of them feeling at their most relaxed when they could feel their partner’s heartbeat against their own. Sometimes someone woke up with an elbow to the ribs, but most of the time Y/N’s cheek was pressed up against Harry’s shoulder, her face buried into his neck, with his arm draped around her waist and tightly holding her to him like she might roll away in the middle of the night.

That morning she woke up to Harry’s curls tickling her nose. He had been growing them out slightly, letting them fall to a middle part that gently flicked out at the bottom. It reminded her of when he had hosted SNL a few years prior and she adored it. It was just the right length to sink her fingers into and hold on to him. But she did not appreciate it pulling her out of her beauty sleep.

She had wiggled away from the wispy hairs, trying to get her face away from the tickling strands when she felt Harry’s hands clamp down on her waist, refusing to let his girl slip away from his grasp.

“Stay,” he rasped, clearly still half asleep and mumbling in a way she knew no one else could have understood. “You’re warm.”

“I’m not leaving,” she murmured, maneuvering her way onto her other side and pressing her back against his chest. “Just adjusting.”

“But I like holding you that way.”

“Hold me this way.”

“Yes, sir,” he smirked against the back of her neck, delicately placing a few kisses to her skin while he was there. “You just wanted to be the little spoon.”

A sleepy but mischievous smile crawled onto her lips as she snuggled further into her pillow, eyes still closed in hopes of keeping the day away just a little bit longer. “Maybe I did. What are you going to do about it?”

The second his hands moved to her waist she knew what was about to happen. A squeal left her lips as his fingers began to move rapidly at her sides, pulling loud and boisterous laughter from her chest. Sleep was a dream of the past now, but she was sure she wouldn’t trade this moment for the world.

When Harry was gone--either on tour, work trips, or the occasional solo visit to see his family--she missed him like crazy. She still remembers the empty heartache she felt when he had gone on the next leg of the tour without her when they were still brand new. She had to be in LA for her now exploding career (thanks Harry), but daily phone calls and incessant texting could only do so much when the person she was quickly falling in love with--for real this time--was on another continent. By some miracle, she had made him feel the same way about her as she did him through a screen.

She always felt like he had taken a piece of her with him when he was gone. He did if you counted the small hidden tattoo of her first initial that had found its way onto his ribs after their (actual) two year anniversary.

The feeling of missing him never left when he was gone. She imagined he felt the same whenever she was on tours or work trips of her own.

While her body fought against his tickling touch, her heart melted into it. These moments, on (usually) quiet saturday mornings, meant the world to her. This was a time that was just theirs, belonging to no one else but them. Their joy and love took place in private, as privacy became something the couple had been increasingly possessive of as of late.

Harry’s loud and giddy laughter behind her sounded like a perfect melody and she could feel his chest heaving against her back as he rolled onto his back and brought her with him. Their comforter was now tangled around them, wrapping the pair together in a way neither of them could move with Y/N’s thrashing. He finally ended his torture when she whezed out between giggles that she was going to pee herself.

“Okay, I’ll stop,” he relented, letting his hands leave her sides to reach them across his stomach and hold her body tightly on top of his. “We both know how you pee your pants.”

“Harry Edward Styles, it happened one time three years ago after nearly an entire bottle of tequila! How long are you going to hold onto that and bring it up?”

“Until it’s not funny anymore,” he snickered.

“You know what’s also funny? When you got so sloshed you were crawling under tables at the BRITs. Or that time that you got so drunk that you sent  Jeff a dick pic by accident because you thought you were sending it to me. Or that other time-”

“That’s enough!” he announced, playfully clamping a hand down over her mouth, and releasing her mouth and a disgusted ‘blegh’ when she ran her tongue up his palm.

“Behave Styles,” she teased as she inched her way up his body, resting her head on his shoulder and snaking her fingers up into his hair, giving it a gentle tug as a warning.

“You know I like it when you pull my hair like that, so how about you behave, Styles?”

“That’s Y/L/N-Styles to you,” she teased, but she couldn’t fend off the giant grin that found its way to her lips at the mention of their still very recent nuptials.

The wedding had been small, very small, with only their immediate families and best friends in attendance. While their relationship had started in (and for) the focus of the public eye, they both decided their wedding was going to be just between them and those that mattered most. They didn’t wear their rings in public and no magazines had leaked or published that they were married yet. The day that it became public information was inevitable, but at the moment, the two relished in their little secret.

She felt a swell of love within her as she thought about her husband, sliding out of his grip and onto the bed beside him so she could finally see his face. His eyes were always a little puffy in the morning, a sight shadow of stubble decorating his cheeks if he had shaved the morning prior, but his tired smile was always the same. His pink lips lazily perked up to the left, his deep dimple appearing as if to say ‘good morning,’ and his two front teeth that always reminded her of an adorable bunny made their first appearance of the day. His smile usually disappeared quickly though, morphing into a pout and asking for a kiss.

How could she ever say no?

She settled a hand onto his bare chest and propped herself up to reach her lips to his. Their mouths moved with a well practiced gentle love and passion for each other, Harry’s hands coming to rest on her heating cheeks. She moved herself over him, settling her knees on either side of hips, never breaking their lips apart.

Kissing him was her favorite activity and with five years of practice, they were really good at it by now, but the swirling electricity that always appeared never failed to bring a flush to her cheeks. She could never get used to him. He was intoxicating and she never wanted to sober up.

Their moment was interrupted by a loud grumble coming from Harry’s stomach and Y/N pulled her lips from his and threw her head back with a loud belly laugh she just couldn’t contain.

“You good?” she teased down at him, lightly poking at his bare stomach right below her favorite butterfly.

His cheeks flushed slightly as he dramatically hung his head and flashed his best puppy-dog eyes at her with a silent plea to feed him. “I think I’m hungry.”

“You can be hungry but I’m not getting out of bed to make you breakfast.”

“Well, I’m not getting out of bed either,” his eyebrow quirked. “Aren’t you hungry? Don’t you want your morning coffee that you say I don’t make right?”

She pretended to think about it for a moment. “I’m willing to risk shitty coffee if I get to stay in this bed.”

“I will do anything you want other than getting out of this bed right now.”

“Anything?” she questioned with a raised eyebrow and a curious lilt in her voice. She was quickly answered with an eager knod. He obviously thought this was some sort of sexual request by the smirk that rose to his face. “You have to clean the litter box until I decide I’ve been properly paid back for your veggie omelet and tea.” His face fell.

“That’s your job!”

“Exactly why I don’t want to do it.”

“I’ll do literally anything else.”

“My one offer. Take it or leave it?”

“Leave it,” he said with a theatrical pout and crossed his arms over his chest. She was momentarily distracted by the way his tattoos moved over his muscular and tan arms for a moment, but shook herself from the thought and steeled herself in her stubbornness.

The two shared an intense look for a moment, both of them deciding whether or not they would press the issue further. With a sigh and slight roll of her eyes, she stuck out her hand towards him.

“We go on ‘shoot’ and none of your ‘best two out of three’ bullshit.”

As childish as it felt, Rock, Paper, Scissors had become their way of negotiating most of their disagreements over the years. It was a lighthearted game of chance, and while it sometimes led to a few minutes of frustration for the losing party, it worked for them and stopped arguments before they could happen. Interviewers often thought it was a joke when they answered the usual “secrets to a happy relationship” question, but it couldn’t be more truthful.

“Fine, we play by your rules.”

Their fists dropped down to their opposite palms three times, before both called “shoot.” She had gone for rock. Harry had gone for paper.

A loud combination of a whine and a groan left her lips and she dramatically let her body fall off of his and back onto her side of the bed.

“Fair is fair, my love,” he playfully taunted. “I would like my veggie omelette and I’m thinking I could go for some green tea this morning.”

“I will be getting you back for this,” she grumbled as she began to drag herself off the bed and away from it’s cozy warmth. She slipped his go to Columbia black hoodie over her head and took a pouty deep breath. It would have been more dramatic but she was distracted by how good the sweatshirt smelled. It smelled like home.

“I love you so so much,” he defended, opening his arms wide to grab her for one last kiss before she ventured down to the kitchen.

“Yeah, yeah,” she mumbled against his lips. “I love you too.”

She sulked out of their bedroom towards their kitchen (not before Harry swatted at her butt that was barely covered by the sweatshirt) and began to hold up her end of their deal. The cold tile nipped at her toes as she made them both omelettes and bopped along to the music she had instructed their Alexa to play. She fixed herself a morning coffee (that Harry really did always screw up somehow) and rummaged through their cabinet until she found her husband’s special order of green tea.

“Come get your breakfast, princess,” she shouted up the stairs when she was finished and after pausing her music.

“No breakfast in bed?”

“You are not getting eggs on our new--very expensive--sheets. Come down here and give me another kiss.”

She heard a whine of “fine” come from their bedroom followed by the padding of feet. Harry appeared at the top of the stairs moments later, rubbing at his eyes like a sleepy child and she just wanted to pull him into her arms and run her fingers through his hair until he fell back asleep. He pecked her lips softly when he reached the bottom of the stairs, but killed it when he called her a “breakfast tyrant.”

Y/N followed him back into the kitchen and watched him plop his still sleepy body into one of the high chairs at their kitchen island in front of his plate and his favorite mug that read “Coffee has a rough time in our house. It gets mugged every single morning!” She hooked an arm around his shoulders and slid herself onto his lap, sipping on her coffee as she waited for his opinion on his breakfast.

“It’s always better when you make it,” he smiled at her and pressed an eggy kiss to her cheek.

“You always say that,” she smirked back at him, only causing his smile to grow. “Oh, I almost forgot. Alexa, resume music.” He gave her a faux frustrated stare as he recognized what song she had been playing.

“And when we go crashing down, we come back every time, 'cause we never go out of style, we never go out of style!” rang out from the small speaker on their counter and she laughed so hard she would have slipped off his lap if his arm wasn’t wrapped firmly around her waist.

“How long are you going to hold onto that and bring it up?”

“Until it’s not funny anymore,” she used his own words from this morning against him with a cheeky smile.

“You are so lucky I love you so much.”

“And I love you more,” she mumbled against his lips, bringing her smirk with her into their kiss.

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING!! REBLOGS AND FEEDBACK MEAN THE WORLD!!!! If you enjoyed this you can support a broke college kid here :)

[queenshelby]

Roommates – Part Seven

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Words: 4,241

Warning: Smut

Note: This plays in 2020.

In the dark, you began to search for your phone to shine some light and, as you were reaching for the bedside table, your hands brushed Cillian a couple of time until you found it.

‘You were saying?’ you chuckled as you turned the little light on your phone on, flashing it towards Cillian.

‘It’s difficult Y/N’ Cillian then said, covering his eyes and you simply nodded.

‘That’s just life sometimes Cilly. I am sure you will find your way with whoever she is’ you then said, caressing his cheek gently before standing up.

‘Remember the last time we were in a blackout together?’ Cillian then asked, causing you to nod.

‘Oh my god yes. It was at your holiday house in Kerry and Danielle was freaking out, thinking that we will never get back to civilisation’ you laughed, remembering that night very well.

‘She was high so I can see how this happened’ Cillian laughed, before turning on the light on his phone as well.

‘Well, I don’t have any Weed but there is a whole bottle of red wine in the kitchen and a cabinet full of board games’ you suggested before gathering some candles while Cillian lid the fireplace in the living room for some extra light.

After you threw a few blankets and pillows down in front of the fireplace and Cillian eventually found his reading glasses, you started with some Scrabble but, usurpingly, after you finished half of the bottle of red wine, this soon became too difficult when you made one spelling mistake after another.

‘You are hopeless’ Cillian eventually observed as he won again, using the most absurd words he could think off after you only scored some points with words like ‘Soup’ and ‘Breasts’.

‘Well, how about a game that I am good at, huh?’ you laughed as you pulled out the Twister mat.

‘You don’t think that we are a little too tipsy for Twister?’ Cillian laughed, remembering that, the last time you played this game drunk, he ended up with four stitches.

‘Nope! I will catch you if you fall’ you chuckled as you started to warm up and opened up the ‘Twister-For-Two’ App on your iPhone which was giving you both directions with thirty second intervals.

‘Jesus, I am getting too fucking old for this’ Cillian said before getting into position, showing off his strong legs which immediately caused you to bite your lips. The fact that he wasn’t wearing anything but his black briefs and a grey t-shirt certainly was an incentive for you.

Left foot blue!

He was certainly getting an easy start, at least so he thought.

Right hand yellow!

But clearly, he was wrong when he watched you bend over right in front of him wearing your rather short Pyjamas featuring Bambi.

‘Interesting clothing choice’ Cillian chuckled as Bambi was staring right at him, covering your deliciously round ass.

‘Get your eyes off my ass Murphy’ you laughed but, deep down inside you didn’t mind him staring at you.

After just five minutes, both of your hands and feet were on the mat and so were Cillian’s.

By this point, Cillian and you had managed to thoroughly tangle yourselves together in a laughing mess and, at right foot yellow, Cillian accidentally bumped your breast. Slightly surprised, you took little notice.

Cillian on the other hand began to struggle as, once again, his manhood began to stir.

‘Seriously?’ he thought to himself as, just moments earlier, he couldn’t get himself into the mood with Lindsay and now that he wanted to prevent exactly this from happening, he couldn’t and was hard as a rock.  

At right hand green, things had become too much for him as you had to slide your right hand along Cillian’s inner thigh on your way to green. As you slowly moved into position, you got a glimpse of what was happening in between Cillian’s legs but yet, you pretended that you didn’t notice his erection.

‘Fuck, that’s it, you won. My back is sore’ Cillian suddenly huffed out, standing up abruptly before walking to the kitchen.

You couldn’t help but grin as Cillian shouted out to see whether you wanted another glass of wine.

‘Yes please’ you giggled rather pleased with yourself but still, you thought that it was simply the friction that aroused him.

‘Do you want another game?’ you asked when he returned with two full glasses and, unsurprisingly, Cillian shook his head which is when you began talking.

You talked about almost everything and anything for about thirty minutes while sitting on the blanket together in between the scented candles and the fireplace.

By this point Cillian’s erection had subsided and you were curious as to whether it was you who caused it in the first place or whether it was something else.

‘Despite the blackout and you breaking it off with Lindsay, I thought that tonight was really fun’ you eventually observed after you finished your glass of wine

‘Well, you are a lot of fun to be around which makes it pretty easy’ Cillian said, finishing off his wine as well.

He smirked and shrugged. His eyes dropped and he started to trace a design on the crumpled blanket with his finger as if he wanted to say something else.

‘Can you ask you a question?’ you then asked out of the blue after having built up some courage.

‘Of course’ Cillian responded as his eyes lifted to yours, and you almost lost your nerve.

‘You, uhm, seemed to have enjoyed the game of Twister a lot more than I had anticipated’ you said, biting your lip nervously while looking down at his crotch.

Cillian immediately blushed, the flush spreading down his neck and the top of his muscular chest. Mortified, he looked at you with wide eyes and his right hand rose to his forehead.

‘Oh, god, Y/N…I am so sorry, it’s just that…the wine…and….’ Cillian shuddered nervously, realising that you saw his arousal and, before he could finish his sentence, you quickly leaned forward and placed a hand on his chest, just above the collar of his t-shirt where some of his chest hair was sticking out. Your palm tingled against the soft spatter of hair there.

‘Cillian, don't! I didn't mean to embarrass you’ you suddenly blurted out as you felt bad that you had, but also stimulated at the thought that you might have aroused him and that, perhaps, it wasn’t just a coincidence.

You were suddenly very aware of the soft, warm skin beneath your hand, and the warm wetness in your panties.

‘I promise you'll never say anything about it again, I just...I have to know...was it friction from the game, or was it, you know...me?’ you then asked, retreating you hand momentarily from his chest and squinting your eyes nervously.

Cillian sighed heavily and grabbed your hand, placing it back against his chest after you leaned away a little. His heart was racing, and you thought yours might pound straight out of your ribcage.

‘It wasn't the friction Y/N’ he then admitted and your breath caught in your throat.

‘I don’t know what it was or what it is, but I know it’s you. I am attracted to you’ Cillian then explained, causing you to grin excitedly.

‘So, when you just got aroused, what did you think about’ you asked as you played with his chest hair.

‘Y/N, we’ve been friends for so many fucking years and I don’t want to ruin this’ Cillian said almost embarrassed and you cut him off again.

‘Yes, and friends tell each other the truth. So, tell me, what was on your mind just then on the Twister mat?’ you asked, causing Cillian to sigh heavily again.

‘I was wondering what you would taste like’ Cillian said almost heavy hearted, admitting his desire for you before apologising for it.

Your heart felt like it stopped. Your entire body tingled, and warmth spread through your belly, snaking straight between your legs. This could absolutely be a dream.

‘Why don't you kiss me and find out?’ you said with husky voice as you moved your face closer to his.

With no hesitation, Cillian’s free hand moved around the back of your neck as his full lips met yours.

Your eyes closed and you opened your mouth, allowing his soft tongue to explore. He pulled you in and kissed you harder while you wrapped your arms around him to run your hands along his back and shoulders.

This continued for quite some times with neither of you being able to let go of the other as you smiled, kissed and moaned into each other’s mouths. Eventually, Cillian wound his hand in your long hair and broke the kiss to move his mouth to your ear.

As it was, you moaned, you shivered, and you dug your nails into his back. Your enthusiastic response drove him to be even more aggressive. He pushed you onto your back and rolled on top of you, the growing bulge in his briefs pressing directly into the spreading wetness between your legs. You gasped at the gratifying sensation.

Cillian pushed himself onto his palms, concerned.

‘This will change everything between us. Do you want this?’ Cillian asked.

‘I wanted this for over a fucking month Cillian. If you don’t fuck me now, I will never forgive you’ you huffed out almost breathlessly and slightly tipsy, causing Cillian to chuckle.

Of course, he wanted it as badly and as much as you did, but he was still somewhat worried about your long-lasting friendship and thought that, ideally, you should both be talking about this first. You needed to clarify what this was and what you were going to become after you slept with each other.

But the wine and his raging erection eventually got the better of him and you immediately wrapped your arms around him to keep him on top of you.

You ground your hips into his and forced his lips to yours, bringing his full weight back to your waiting body. His hot mouth made it back to your neck and ears, and you moaned again, biting your lip in an attempt to stifle the noises he was eliciting from you. He propped himself up on one forearm and began to explore your eager body with his other hand.

He was teasing you, tauntingly caressing you through the thin pyjamas shirt you wore. You writhed beneath his palm, wanting more. His hair wasn't long, but long enough that you could wind your fingers into it and guide his ear into your mouth.

You toyed with it, tracing it with your tongue, sliding the lobe between your teeth, enjoying hearing his breath get heavier and feeling his cock getting harder as he kneaded your breast through the t-shirt. Then he stopped.

‘Y/N’ Cillian huffed out, causing you to enquire why he stopped.

‘I saw you, earlier in the bath when you were masturbating’ he admitted.

‘You looked away though didn’t you?’ you smirked, causing him to shake your head.

‘I am sorry’ he said and you immediately grinned.

‘Did you enjoy watching me?’ you then asked as you raised an eyebrow and panted, rubbing yourself against him.

‘What do you think?’ Cillian chuckled before asking you what you were listening to on your headphones.

‘An audio book you narrated’ you smirked and he looked dumbfounded, which in turn surprised you, considering what he'd said to start all of this.

‘What can I say Cillian, you’ve got a goodman sexy voice’ you admitted before you pushed him off of you and sat up on your knees, peeling off your shirt to reveal your pierced breasts.

He sat, slack jawed, legs outstretched before doing the same with his t-shirt.

‘So many freckles’ you observed before you went further and hooked your thumbs around the waistband of your Bambi panties.

‘Since you already watched me masturbate, there are no more secrets for me to reveal in so far as my body is concerned’ you smirked as you slowly inched them past your hips, leaving you completely naked.

Cillian’s jaw dropped nonetheless. His eyes were hungry and he reached for his own briefs and removed them as well.

‘Well, unfortunately for you, I had no secrets to start off with. You’ve seen it all already’ Cillian said as he gave you a familiar, lop-sided grin that exposed his teeth. So gorgeous.

‘And I love seeing it all again’ you huffed out as your mouth watered at the sight of his erection. But, instead of letting him climb back on top of you, you firmly pressed your naked body against his chest and then straddled his taut body and kissed him soundly.

His hands roamed your body freely, exploring your legs, your back, your breasts, your ass. He caressed and kneaded, he stroked and fondled, all the while kissing your mouth and neck and ears.

‘Oh god Cillian’ you moaned as you ground your clit into his erection, whimpering in pleasure and whispering his name over and over again, something which sounded rather familiar to him.

After placing soft kisses across your neck, he cupped your breasts and rubbed circles on your rigid pierced nipples with his large thumbs, making you tremble. With his gaze boring into yours, he lifted each breast to his lips and gently nuzzled your nipples before gently tugging on each of your piercings.

‘Don't stop...please don't stop’ you moaned as you rode him harder, begging breathlessly and he wasn’t event inside of your yet. The only friction you got was on your clit against his very hard cock.

Cillian complied with your request and fixed his soft lips around a pink areola, sucking hard as he manipulated the firm nub and your piercing with his tongue. It pushed you over the edge and you came with a low moan, your fingers digging roughly into his scalp.

Keeping one hand around his neck, you slumped back onto his muscular thighs and tried to catch your breath.

‘Did you just cum?’ he asked rather surprised and you nodded, unable to say more.

‘Fuck, that is incredibly hot’ he said as his mouth hung open while he looked at you expectantly, and you knew him well enough that he was wondering if your orgasm meant you were done playing.

‘The tension building up over the past month was just too much, but please don’t dare think that I am done with you yet’ you smirked and Cillian mirrored your wicked smile and kissed you deeply until you placed both hands on his chest and pushed him onto his back.

He resisted at first, eager to keep touching you. Finally he relented and propped himself up with one hand behind his head, watching you as you kissed and licked and sucked your way across his muscular chest and stomach again and again.

Any time you came to his nipples, his eyes pinched tight and his hips involuntarily jerked toward you. You pressed your slight body down onto his rigid cock, making him emit a deep, guttural moan. It was all you could do not to impale your wet pussy on the willing flesh, but you were enjoying the anticipation far too much.

You slid your body down on his, his freckled skin a striking contrast against your much darker tan. While you made your decent, you briefly thought again about just climbing onto him and lowering your wet, ready pussy onto his very hard cock, but you decided that as late as it was, it was still early enough in the night to do everything you wanted. And you wanted to make him come in your mouth just as you had fantasised for weeks.

When you finally reached your destination, Cillian’s cock, was standing at attention in your hands. It was so long and thick that it made your small hands look positively tiny in comparison. You ran them up and down the length of his shaft, taking the time to trace every line and curve carefully.

‘Fuck, Y/N, this feels so fucking good’ Cillian groaned as he watched you with hooded eyes and you started stroking him more rhythmically. His head rolled back, his hips jutted forward, and you couldn't contain yourself any longer.

You inhaled all that you could at once, which admittedly wasn't much considering all that remained. You pulled your head back, sucking hard, and went down for another try, and another, and another, gorging on a little more of his shaft each time.

‘Jesus Christ’ Cillian groaned again loudly as you finally managed to take all of his length and he bottomed out against the back of your throat.

You grinned as you accomplished what you had hoped and began bobbing your head up and down his shaft.

Occasionally, you snuck glances at his face when you could; sometimes he was staring at you fixedly, his mouth pinched to a narrow line, other times his eyes were screwed tight.

‘Y/N, I am close, fuck, you need to stop’ you eventually heard him weakly say as you continued to pleasure him with your lips and tongue.

But, instead of stopping, you looked him straight in the eyes and took his cock deeper down your mouth.

‘Y/N, fuck’ he groaned, trying to delay his release until he realised that this was what you wanted as you continued to suck him eagerly.

Eventually, with another loud groan, his entire body tensed and you could feel his sweet cum spurt into the back of your throat. Rope after rope, you drank every drop and, when he finally came down from his high, you gently licked him clean and he sat up and pulled you into his lap, kissing you deeply.

‘You just kissed me after you came in my mouth’ you observed when your lips drifted apart which is something James, the only man you had ever been with before tonight, would never have done.

‘Does that bother you?’ Cillian asked concerned and you shook your head.

‘No, I think its fucking sexy’ you blurted out before kissing him again and, just as you did, you felt his erection reviving underneath your ass almost immediately.

While sucking on your tongue, his large hands grabbed around your waist and rolled you over on the blanket beside him.

He crawled over you and stuck his tongue in your ear, making you claw at his back until he whispered ‘When I said that I wanted to know what you taste like, I meant that I wanted to eat your pussy.’

This was probably the dirtiest thing you ever heard him say to you and you liked it a lot and wiggled out from underneath him just enough to spread your legs provocatively.

His breath on your legs, coupled with his revelation that he had been fantasising about licking you, made you quiver. He slowly kissed the inside of your thighs, occasionally brushing your soaking mound with his nose or his lips. You relished every second and it wasn’t long until he locked your gaze and pressed his tongue flat against your vulva.

‘Oh god yes, Cillian, fuck’ you moaned out as he was licking and sucking you.

He covered your labia and clitoris in wet kisses before sticking his tongue deep inside you, causing you to scream out louder than ever before.

As he continued to pleasure you, one of your hands was buried in his hair, tearing at it as he made your body go crazy whilst the other clenched against the blanket beneath you.

You remembered what Laura had said and there certainly was some truth to it. He was good, very good and it wasn't long before you'd built into another orgasm, but you didn't feel the need to warn him beforehand.

‘Oh, my fucking god’ you shouted out eventually as his wicked tongue sent you over the edge and your legs began to shake crazily while he pinned you down.

No man had ever made you cum with his tongue alone and the sensitivity on your clit following your orgasm was overwhelming and made you squirm.

Still, he continued to ply his tongue into your sensitive folds until you used both hands to pry his head back by his hair. He grinned from ear to ear, and you knew you were paying for teasing him earlier.

Languidly, he pulled his body over yours, pausing to kiss you here and there while you regained a little composure. His breath was heavy when he found himself at your ear again.

‘I want to be inside you’ he whispered and you nodded fervently.

He raised himself to his knees, his erection again at full mast. You felt a momentary twinge of nervousness. He was bigger than James and this worried you just a little.

‘Do you want me to go and get a condom?’ Cillian asked and you knew that he kept some upstairs in his bedside table which, ironically, Lindsay had bought for him.

‘No, I am on the pill. I want to feel you, all of you’ you said, biting your lips with anticipation.

This was all Cillian needed to hear and, within seconds, he lined himself up you’re your soaking wet entrance.

He knew that you had never been with another man other than James and was gentle and slow as he entered you, increasing the pace of his thrusts only after you'd had a chance to get used to his length and girth and began raising your hips up to meet his.

‘Oh god, you feel so fucking tight Y/N’ Cillian groaned as he thrusted in and out of you.

‘Cillian, fuck me harder, oh god’ you screamed out almost at the same time. He felt so amazing inside of you that you could barely breathe! You probably looked like the proverbial fish on dry land, gasping for air as you drown under wave after wave of orgasmic pleasure.

You were almost grateful when he folded over you and groaned into your neck, the sound of your name from his lips bringing you to one last climax as he enjoyed his.

‘Fuck yes Cillian’ you groaned as you could feel him pulsate inside of you, filling you with his seed as you climaxed in sync.

By this point you had lost count of how many orgasms he'd given you, but you were fairly sure that you could make him come every hour on the hour for the next three or four days and still be in his debt.

You never had sex that good and you struggled to contain yourself after you both were breathless. Cillian held his body close to his as his breath normalized, and you shuddered as he pulled his softening cock from inside you, lamenting its absence and causing some of his cum to leak onto the blanket beneath you.

‘What do you think? Should we get to bed?’ he eventually huffed out and you nodded, but weren’t so sure whether you would be sleeping in the same or separate bedroom.

‘I might need some help getting up’ you giggled, knowing that you wouldn’t be walking straight for days.

Cillian was quick to flash up his phone and scoop you up from the floor in response to your comment and carry you to your bed.

‘Uhm, do you want me to stay with you?’ Cillian asked somewhat nervously and you bit your lip and nodded at him.

Within seconds, he slid into bed with you, turned off the flashlight on his phone before pulling the top sheet over your nude forms before sliding an arm around you to curl you into his warm body.

‘This was incredible, even better than I had ever imagined’ he said and you nuzzled into the soft hair that sparsely covered his chest, still reeling that the most amazing wet dream you'd ever had had happened during your waking hours.

***

The following morning, you were woken by your phone which rang not once, not twice but three times in total until you finally answered it.

‘Hey, what’s up’ you huffed out with a dusty head while Cillian was stirring besides you.

‘I really need to talk Y/N, I am sorry. I know that Cillian is seeing someone by the name of Lindsay and I am really fucking upset about it’ Laura went on to say before telling you once again that she wasn’t over the break up and suspected that he was seeing her and Lindsay at the same time.

‘I can’t really talk about this right now’ you said, your head pounding as Cillian’s arm wrapped around you.

‘Can you call me back when you can please. I know you said that you wanted to stay out of this, but there is more to it’ Laura then said and you were immediately overwhelmed with guilt.

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[sandbees]

Okay I was thinking about how the other charathers that Arent the great Seven would react to the NRC students in the house of mouse AU. Like i can Imagine Azul asking Ariel if She wants ti make a deal with him and Ariel Is like "lol no", or the First year see Cruella de vil at One of the tables and they are like "She look so much like Crewel that She's giving us PTSD" or kalim and Aladdin becoming buddies :D.

Well, let me put in some headcannons then:

Word goes around that some of the Great Disney villains come to visit Yuu and everyone gets jealous.

So now whenever Yuu goes to work they always get asked to have them visit their world.

So, Yuu just says, “Meh ok, you guys can visit me whenever just ask one of the Great Seven or go through the mirror in my dressing room-“

And suddenly Yuu gets someone they met from the House of Mouse ever other day. It’s literal chaos and Yuu doesn’t know if they should feel exasperated or flattered.

Anyways, here’s some interactions between the dorms and some Disney Characters:

Heartslybul: Obviously when Alice comes to visit, she comments on how Heartslybul reminds her of the Queen of Hearts’ garden. When Yuu mentions that they paint the roses red, Alice sarcastically asks, “Does the dorm leader behead people who don’t paint the roses?” “...Well, he’s more lenient now but...” “...You’re serious?”

Ace and Alice get along swimmingly, basically quick quips and a lot of teasing. Yuu regrets introducing them to each other because they know the two are going to get into some sort of trouble. Deuce also gets along with Alice, though he can get lost in Alice’s rambles in imagination.

I think Alice would get along with Trey and Cater. I mean, they both give big brother vibes (Trey more than Cater). Trey would give Alice some tarts and Alice is like, “....He’s cool.”

Cater is going to take a bunch of pictures, and Alice is very curious about the device he’s holding (I don’t think phones or the internet existed during Alice’s time so...). Cater ends up teaching Alice about the internet and phones.

Riddle...ohhh noo. Once Alice broke one of the 810 rules and Riddle lightly scolded her for it. Alice thinks most of the rules are ridiculous and while Riddle has toned down on being strict, he’ll quickly get annoyed with Alice questioning the rules. There’s rules for a reason! The dorm was founded on these rules!!

Savannaclaw: It’s Simba, obviously. He’s curious to see the dorm after his...nefarious uncle. It’s much more nicer than he expected, though he’s a little off put by the dorm’s...rowdiness.

But he’s impressed with the Magishift practices they have when Yuu showed them.

He likes Jack, right off the bat. Jack has this sense of justice that he can relate to. I think they would get along pretty well. Oh, and probably how strong and buff Jack is.

Simba is wary of Ruggie, due to him being a hyena beastmen. He has...bad memories of hyenas. His wariness is correct, since Ruggie has tried to swindle Simba and Yuu to do some of his work. Does the relationship get better? Only if Yuu makes them hang out with each other haha.

Leona reminds Simba of Scar...to a certain degree. Lazy, cunning, and has this look where it seems like he could be planning something nefarious...

Ok, maybe not that bad, but Simba is weary of Leona. He kind of expected a character similar to Scar since this is the dorm based on him but...still. It’s really odd. It’s kind of rocky, but if Cheka comes over to visit, well...it could get better.

I mean, Leona does find Cheka annoying and calls him a brat but...Simba can tell there’s no malicious desire towards Cheka, which raises Leona’s “evil people don’t interact” list. That doesn’t mean Leona’s in the clear, but he’s ok.

Octavinelle: Surprise, surprise, it’s Ariel! She comes over, human legs and all. (Don’t worry! She got them from the nicer sorcerers). She wanted to visit Yuu and see how great NRC was! They had fun, and then they went to Mostro Lounge.

Ariel is terrified of the Tweels. They give her this...off putting feeling and they’re very intimidating. She does not trust them at all. She does like how they get up close and how they speak as if she’s some poor soul waiting to be taken advantage over.

That’s also why she does not trust Azul at all. He reminds Ariel of Ursula - especially when he tries making a contract with her. Uh-uh, no way. Never again.

This leads to Ariel dubbing NRC a dangerous place for Yuu to stay at. Why doesn’t Yuu come live with her and her family back at her world? Surely it’s much more safer than here! Why, Melody already sees Yuu as a big sibling so why not just stay at the castle permanently?

Ursula fumes at the thought of her enemy trying to take Yuu away and become their parent. That’s her role, dammit!

Scarabia: Kalim invites Aladdin, actually. It’s the most funniest scenario. Yuu mentioned to Kalim about the street rat that wooed the princess and Kalim says, “:00 WE SHOULD INVITE HIM!!” Jamil sighs and facepalms.

It’s actually going great! Aladdin is kind of shocked at the big party that Kalim threw, but it was a great welcome. He’s shook that Kalim apparently trusted Aladdin enough to show him the treasury room. “It’s open for all of the dorm to use! I don’t need much of it!”

Wasn’t NRC rumored to be a villain’s school??? What is this ball of sunshine doing here???

Actually, the Scarabia duo are good in his eyes. Sure, a little rough around the edges with Kalim being a bit too naive and Jamil being more of a watching snake, but they’re better than what he expected. Aladdin gets along with them pretty well!

And then they go on a carpet ride when Kalim introduces Aladdin to his magic flying carpet.

Yuu and Jamil scream at the two of them to get down as they fly across the night sky.

Pomfiore: oh no. Oh no no no. Snow White visiting Pomfiore is like...Neige visiting.

Vil is cold to Snow White, and she knows why. She’s seen the images that Yuu had of this “Neige Leblanc”. He certainly reminds her of her younger days. Which is why she completely understands why Vil is so standoffish of her.

What she doesn’t expect is Rook singing her praises and also kind of...watching her. It’s low key creepy but Yuu says it’s normal and since he doesn’t mean any harm Snow White lets it slide. They do have a good conversation though. Snow White learns to understand Rook’s...eccentric hobbies.

Epel and Snow White go together like apples and oranges. They go pretty well together, but they have contrasting differences. They could be passed of as siblings with their cute looks, as much as Epel hates to admit it. Though I’d like to think they have this “Soft big sister with a gremlin of a little brother” dynamic. Or “Big sister that is harmless but has a badass little bother” dynamic. Just...a cool sibling dynamic, basically.

Ignihyde: Hercules comes by when he hears that a dorm was based off of Hades. He had to see what it was like. He expected the doom and gloom, but he didn’t expect all the technology.

He and Ortho go along swimmingly. I mean, he’s pretty chill around the more upbeat and cheery dorm member, at least. (Seriously, the others were such buzzkills). He also gets a good impression on Idia when Ortho affectionately talks about his big brother! Wow, so the kids here do have a heart! Unlike Hades-

Ok, so as much as Ortho talks so highly of Idia, Hercules does not see how Ortho does. I mean, Idia is a complete shut in and gloomy recluse! Why do you stick around him?! It isn’t until he speaks his mind about that comment does Ortho turn into a crazy murder machine. (“How DARE you speak of that about my brother!!”) Yuu has to save Hercules and the entire dorm before Ortho blows up the school.

So now Hercules sees how inseparable the two are and how much they care for each other, which yeah, that’s pretty cool. (Is also low key jealous, how come his half brothers weren’t like that?)

Diasomnia: Aurora visits with Maleficent. Both do not share ill will after their stories are completed. They actually do make amends. So Maleficent invited Aurora to see her grandson, and Aurora politely accepts.

They have tea with Malleus, and it is a very pleasant conversation. Aurora gets along well with Malleus, even suggesting maybe she should invite him and Maleficent to her kingdom one day. (Maybe when she gives birth to a beautiful baby. Maleficent liked that)

Lilia is also a fun one to be around! Aurora was so surprised by his scare that she had laughed. Ah, what a funny fae! Why, she hadn’t laughed this hard since...well, never. She likes Lilia and will come by if she needs a good laugh.

Poor Sebek though....he acts all uptight around Aurora because she’s a Queen and also aquatinted with Maleficent...he must be respectful to her at all costs! It takes a long time for Sebek to at least act a little casual around her. Maleficent says it’ll take some time, though Aurora isn’t sure if that time will come on her lifetime...but for the meantime, she is still happy to be around Sebek’s presence and have pleasant conversations with him.

Aurora and Silver...ok, let me say this: they got along during a sleepover. The Diasomnia gang + Maleficent and Aurora had a sleepover in the dorms to “better know each other”. I also think Aurora would feel sympathy for Silver if the conversation of him tending to fall asleep came up. Heavens knows she still has her sleepy spells even after her curse was broken.

Also- wofhenod I just imagine Aurora and Silver walking in the forest together and a bunch of animals surround them. (Yuu finds them and cries when they actually attracted a bunch of adorable puppies (or whatever animal you find cute). Cute, adorable animals that are so gentle with them that they start to cry due to stress from being at NRC (Silver and Aurora look at Yuu with concern and gently start comforting them)

Winfendien Suddenly I want a twin dynamic with Silver and Aurora. Even a sibling dynamic would be cool. Just two sleepy siblings that won’t hesitate to kick your ass.

[phoenix-manga]

Vice Dorm Leaders getting along with Pokémon:

It didn’t take long for the vice dorm leaders to get involved with the Pokemon too. The shenanigans that happened with them are... interesting to say the least.

Trey + Slurpuff

“The Unbirthday Party was a success thanks to this little guy’s sense of smell… Though I should expect to make a large portion for it, the number of sweets it ate was shocking for everyone!”

Trey was a bit skeptical when Phoebe lent him Slurpuff and told him that chefs would use them to sniff out the freshest ingredients but if they say so then it must be worth a try.

Needless to say, he was pleasantly surprised to see the cake thing nudge him to the best ingredients to use for his sweets. He rewarded Slurpuff with a spoon covered in frosting or batter. The Pokémon mostly stayed out of his way and only has to bring him some tools or supplies.

When he presented the sweets he made, everyone including Riddle were almost knocked into a food coma with how good it was. Even Trey was lost in the trance of the flavor, but he was snapped out of it when he spotted Slurpuff eating almost half of the buffet table, he rushed to it and told it to ask him for more sweets to prevent any problems.

Ruggie + Crobat

“That Phoebe kid feeds you this? Aww man! I’m so jealous, now I wish I was a Pokémon!”

That one-time Ruggie came across Crobat was when he passed by Ramshackle to see a large bat creature with four wings eating from a large bowl filled with berries, Poke puffs and even poffins. The amount it ate distracted him from his usual task and he only snapped out of it when Crobat made eye-contact with him.

Crobat wasn’t sure why a stranger was here but it assumed it wanted food so Crobat nudged a Poke puff towards Ruggie’s direction before going back to chow down. Ruggie didn’t plan on asking it for any food, he was just curious but since it offered, who is he to decline? Picking up the Poke puff and taking a bite, he immediately devours it till there’s nothing left. That was the tastiest pastry he has had; they were even better than the ones in the cafeteria.

He hears Phoebe call out to Crobat and he took this time to scram before he was found. That kid pampers their creatures like royalty, he admits that he once had the thought that wishes that he was a Pokémon too. Ruggie now sneaks to go to Ramshackle and Crobat sneaks him a portion of its food, Ruggie repays it by offering some to it as well. They just formed this unspoken lunch trade. The one time Phoebe made malasadas for Crobat, Ruggie was in heaven lemme tell you.

Phoebe has no idea about this, this was just a secret thing between Crobat and Ruggie. One time Phoebe was with Crobat in the field and it spots Ruggie, Crobat immediately goes to him and flies around him. Phoebe assumed that Crobat took a liking to Ruggie because it probably sensed that he’s a foodie. Oh, if only she knew.

Jade + Lapras

“Such kind yet protective eyes you have~ I’m far from trustworthy yet you nuzzle against me like a seal, this is quite interesting”

Phoebe asked Azul if she can be allowed to have her water Pokémon swim about in Octavinelle. The lake is much too small for the larger ones. Azul gave her permission but in exchange she has to work part-time at the lounge, Azul is capitalizing as usual. The mention of Pokémon being at Octavinelle brought more customers to the lounge, the one that got the most attention was Lapras.

It was very friendly and even paused to look inside the lounge from the windows. Phoebe was not surprised that Lapras was friendly, what she didn’t expect was that it got attached to Jade for some reason. She would have thought it was Sharpedo or even Eelektross who would get along with the cunning vice dorm leader. But instead, Lapras is swimming happily in circles wanting Jade’s attention.

Jade, of course, finds the Pokémon endearing and would always take his time to pet it whenever he’s on break. Even offering Lapras a small treat or two, Lapras is enjoying it. There was a rare occasion that Jade swam with Lapras in his eel form, at times he swims alongside Lapras or have it chase him through the water, other times he just sleeps on Lapras’ back as it swam.

Jamil + Serperior

“Quite the proud one you are, at least you’re more tolerable than Kalim…”

Kalim promised a favor without consulting Jamil again, this time it was to look after some of her Pokémon. Kalim got caught up in the excitement of having to get close with those strange creatures that he didn’t think that it could be troublesome.

Jamil stopped in his tracks at the sight of Kalim with a large green snake behind him. Boy did he get quite the scolding from Jamil, but what can he do now that Kalim as already offered? He just decides to “help” him take care of Serperior. Thankfully, Phoebe provided a list of ingredients that Serperior likes, the list was as long as an A4 paper but at least Jamil has his options cut out for him. He doesn’t have to guess and waste any food.

Serperior mostly kept to itself and wanders around the dorm, inspecting its surroundings. Kalim tries to hug it but it just wraps its body around him and places him a few feet away before slithering off. Serperior will feel terrible if he smacks the sunshine boy away, so it places him at a good distance.

Jamil often sees it staring at him, its sharp eyes resemble his own. He never expected to have it get attached to him in a rather proud way. Everywhere Jamil goes, Serperior follows at a distance and there were rare moments it coils near his bedroom door, and Jamil walks out one morning only to fall into its coils. This strange behavior was suspicious at first but then Jamil learned to get used to it. Serperior is a curious one but then he thinks its more tolerable than Kalim.

Speaking of Kalim, Serperior sensed that most of Jamil’s stress comes from Kalim being a goofball that he is, so it catches Kalim and puts him in a coil hold when he’s about to do something reckless.

Rook + Oricorio

“Oh my! Such grace and beauty you possess to dance with excellent skills! Wait, you mean to tell me it had four forms? I would like to see it, please show me”

He spotted the dancing bird Pokémon in the field when they were having a PE class. Oricorio was in its Pom-Pom form and doing a cheer dance to motivate Grimm to fly better. He couldn’t help but approach Phoebe and ask her about Oricorio.

Needless to say, he was very interested. A creature that has four different forms that represents a different environment? It was like a fox having more than just a winter coat. He asked to see its other forms, it would be tiring to have it change forms constantly so Phoebe just brings out Rotom to show him the pictures of the Oricorio forms. Rook admired the pictures and each one gave off a different kind of beauty.

Oricorio, being a simp for pretty boys, took a liking to Rook. He was just so charming, Oricorio does its happy dance and follows him whenever it sees him. Phoebe once asked him if he can keep Oricorio company for a few days, he accepts the offer and he brings it to Pomefiore. Oricorio also liked Vil and Epel due to how charming their looks are, Vil is fine with it as long as it isn’t a troublemaker while Epel is kind of bummed out when he thinks it likes him because of his fragile looks.

The moment Rook was shown its changed forms in person, he is taking out his camera and is taking burst shots from all sorts of angles and lighting. Out of all the four forms Oricorio has, he loves its Baile form the most, the way it dances with embers around it in a display of passion and power. He looks forward to Phoebe asking him to look after Oricorio again.

Ortho + Emolga & Pachirisu

“Hey! That tickles, big brother you should try and pet them! They’re like those plushies you sometimes order in your room. Isn’t it like having your favorite plushy as a pet?”

Emolga and Pachirisu are both cheeky Pokémon and a duo for trouble. Emolga and Pachirisu were seen making student’s hair go static and stick out with small electric waves.

Ortho spotted the two behind some bushes and immediately approaches them, this is the first time Emolga and Pachirisu were caught off guard and startled. Their electric attacks don’t do much to Ortho due to his robotic circuits, if anything he considers it as some form of tickling.

Ortho thought how cute they looked and they resemble plush toys in his brother’s room. Emolga and Pachirisu was weirded out by Ortho at first but his cheerfulness was infectious and it didn’t take long for them to treat him as part of their group. Whenever Ortho passes by, the two would pounce on him and swing from his arms and legs, Ortho likes this game, he finds it useful to use his scanner to see where they might pop out next.

One time, he took them to see his brother and they made his hair stick out. He was startled but Ortho found it amusing, he got to see what would his hair look like if it stuck out. Emolga and Pachirisu still do their pranks but its less due to them wanting to find Ortho first.

Lilia + Dragapult

“A prankster and yet you dote on the little ones on your horns? We might be cousins from a distant world, fufu~ Let’s go scare Sebek some more!”

Dragapult pranks Sebek a lot, poor boy gets it from almost a lot of Pokémon. It once shot a Dreepy in his shirt causing him to squirm and try to get it out, he looked like he was doing a crazy monkey dance. Lilia appreciates this little prankster and he would join it in tormenting other students but mostly Sebek because his reactions were very amusing to watch. The two even went and started a pranking competition where they tally their number of pranked students for the whole month.

Lilia was allowed to play and hold the small Dreepy that reside in Dragapult’s horns. He melted at the sight of the little cuties playfully tussling his hair, which gave him an idea to mimic Dragapult’s horns(?) With an easy hair growth potion and a LOT of hairspray, he came to school with his hair in Dragapult’s style.

The sight alone in Diasomnia sent everyone, including Malleus into a stunned silence, Dragapult added fuel to the flame by letting the Dreepy reside in his hair for the rest of the day. Crowley saw Lilia and mumbled how the trends have gotten crazier every day. Cater took pictures and he laughed at the sight because it was so outlandish. Kalim was confused but precious boy still appreciated his hairstyle nonetheless. The perfect chaotic duo.

[titan-fodder]

Prima Vista Part IV

[ previous ]

Rating: E (explicit; mdni) Pairing: Mike Zacharias x fem!reader wc: ~ 9.6k

Warning: a big helping of abandonment/daddy issues, lots of feelings, explicit sexual content A/N: y’all are gonna be so soft and then so mad lmao. 

The plan was to go to Mike's house then back to campus. You said you didn't have anything to do at your mom's, that a long phone call would suffice, which is why Mike is confused when you ask him if you can stop by before going back. It's an hour out of the way, but it's not like he has anything better to do, and he'd be lying if he said he wasn't curious about your humble beginnings. 

 The house is in a decent-looking neighborhood, small, nearly identical one-story homes surrounded by cracked sidewalks. He has to be careful not to trip as you make your way to the front porch, pots of dead or dying plants along the edges of it. You shove your key into the lock, twist and open, then motion for Mike to follow. 

 The den is dimly lit, ceiling fan above with only one working bulb. A crime show is playing on the TV but there's no one watching. There is, however, another light pouring from a back room, and as soon as you drop your bag on the couch, a head pokes out from the doorway. 

 "Baby girl!" A shrill voice cries, and Mike sees you grimace. "I thought you weren't coming by!" 

 A woman walks into the den wearing long, cotton shorts and an old tie-dye shirt then pulls you into a hug so tight that it makes you cough. 

 "Mom," you take a deep breath as if to refill your lungs with all the air that was pushed from them. "This is Mike."

 He holds out a hand and smiles, but all your mother does is stare with round eyes and blurt, "Oh, he's a big boy." 

 "My fucking god." You don't yell or whine, just pinch the bridge of your nose and mumble, "Just shake his hand please." 

 "Sorry, I'm sorry, just was not expecting… You didn't tell me how tall he was."

 "'Cause it doesn't matter. Why would I—nevermind," you cut yourself off, face falling flat just like your voice. 

 Mike isn't sure if he should be flattered or offended or embarrassed, so he just ignores the comment entirely and says, "Nice to meet you." 

 You make your escape to the back, dragging Mike with you before shutting your bedroom door and leaning against it. 

 "Mom is a little weird, but you'll always know where you stand with her," you tell him. "Also, sorry about the house. She’s a teacher, so she’s usually pretty beat at the end of the day. Not enough energy to do a lotta cleaning."

 "Didn't even notice," he reassures you. 

 Mike unpacks his bag next to you, and you gather the dirty clothes from both yours and his, balling them up and taking them with you out to the garage to throw into the washing machine. Mike should have done it at his parents', but as you were packing up that morning, his mother got all teary eyed and his dad just kept shaking your tiny hands and telling you to come back, so it just didn’t happen. 

 Back in the living room, your mom is sitting in an old rocking chair, and Mike thinks you'll take a seat on the adjacent couch, but instead you ask, "You need help with anything? Dishes or vacuuming or somethin'?"

 She looks up at you, fly-away hairs sticking out around her temples and forehead and responds, "It'd be nice if you could do the dishes. I just haven't gotten around to it."

 "Can do," you nod and walk into the kitchen, opening the dishwasher and making a displeased noise at the dirty plates and bowls inside. There's room for a few more, but once it's full and running, you just clean what's left in the sink by hand. Mike finds a towel, stands next to you, and holds his hand out for every scrubbed dish, drying it and placing it in the rack to hopefully be put up later. 

 "You hungry?" You ask when you're done and drying your hands. "It's almost one."

 "Uh, yeah. I could eat." 

 Truthfully, he's starving having only had a small breakfast at his parents'. He doesn't want to say that, though, doesn't want you making a big meal for him or apologizing for anything. 

 "Sandwiches okay?" 

 Something in your tone has him on edge. Your voice is too quiet, deflecting downward as if you're forcing each word from your mouth. 

 "Yeah," he nods. "If you get the stuff, I can make 'em." Mostly so that you can relax but also because there's no way he's gonna let you make him a fucking sandwich. 

 You shrug your shoulders, grab bread, lunchmeat, cheese, and condiments, then say, "You can make ours. I'll make mom's."

 He knows he's missing something, but he doesn't know what, and right now he's too afraid to ask. 

 He eats next to you on the couch, you and your mom watching TV as Mike tries to subtly glance around. Mounted shelves are decorated with dusty, mismatched figurines, cracks opening at the corners where the walls meet the roof. The brick fireplace is stacked high with plastic tubs and books, probably from your mother’s classroom, and the carpet has seen better days. 

 Mike isn't judging—not in the least—but he has a feeling he knows why being here puts you in a sour mood. The house feels lived in, cluttered and cozy and worn around the edges, but it's still empty somehow. 

 After the three of you are finished eating, you take the paper plates and dispose of them, then tell your mom that you'll be in your room. She gives you a soft smile that you struggle to return.

 It's a little more you in the bedroom, blue walls covered in old posters and collages, a quilt similar to the one in your dorm folded at the bottom of your bed. Your pillow cases are faded and covered in an old flower design that matches your sheets, and there's a small nightstand next to the headboard that's bare on top with wrinkled papers poking out of the bottom drawer. 

 "It's not much, but if you wanna snoop around like I always do, feel free." 

 Mike doesn't really want to, especially since you already seem so uncomfortable in what should be a safe space for you. The only thing he feels okay investigating is the old bookshelf next to your closet—mostly YA novels, some poetry books, an old set of The Lord of the Rings series, a textbook over rocks and minerals and another over volcanoes. Tucked away in the bottom shelf is a tiny booklet that looks like a photo album, and Mike has to fight the urge to pull it from its place and flip through the plastic pages. Anything to get to know you better. 

 You lay in bed, eyes locked on the ceiling, and Mike doesn't know what to do. There's a very small TV sitting on your dresser, an old DVD player next to it, so he figures he'll save both you and himself from talking by picking out a movie. 

 He fingers through them, not that there's a lot, just skims the spines until he pulls out a copy of Space Jam. You only glance at the screen when the intro starts, and Mike immediately zeroes in on the way your jaw sets and your brows furrow. 

 "I can pick something else," he tells you quietly. 

 You take a deep breath and shake your head. Slowly but surely your features begin to soften. 

 "'S'fine."

 "Are you sure?" 

 "Yeah. My, uh…" You swallow loud enough from Mike to hear, neck bobbing with the motion. "My dad and I used to watch it all the time."

 He doesn't know what to make of it or how to respond. In the months he's known you, Mike has never heard you mention your father a single time, and he's never asked in fear of what your response might be. 

 He moves your quilt to sit on the very edge of the bed, a little too tense as he heavily contemplates ignoring what you'd said and still switching movies. 

 "You can lay down, you know," you mumble. "I'm not gonna bite you."

 "You have before," he tries to act casual, but it comes out too stiffly.

 You laugh through your nose— "Suit yourself—" then get more comfortable on the mattress. 

 Michael Jordan gets pulled into a golf hole and the Loony Toons journey to retrieve his shoes from the real world. Mike is barely paying attention, more focused on the way your breathing evens out until it becomes slow and deep. 

 That's good. You could use a nap. 

 He watches you for a while, the way your eyelashes flutter against your cheeks and your lips part. You're all curled up on yourself, hands tucked under your chin, knees to your stomach, and Mike wants to slip behind you so badly, to pull you to his chest and lay with you until his heartbeat syncs with yours. 

 But first. 

 As carefully as he can, Mike stands from the bed and glides to the bookcase. He lowers himself in front of it, quickly finding what he's looking for and pulls it from the shelf. 

 It's a small little album, full of polaroids and old pictures cut in half. The first page sets the tone for the rest of the booklet, a photo of a very small you outside eating a popsicle next to a man that is most definitely your dad. You've got a similar facial structure as well as his coloring. Not to mention the expression he's wearing is one Mike has seen you make many times before. 

 The next picture is the two of you dressed up for an event. He's in a striped Polo and slacks while you're in a little checkered dress, a rose corsage on your tiny wrist. Some kind of father-daughter dance, Mike guesses. 

 Sitting on his lap at a fair, a chubby little boy a few years older than you standing close with a stuffed snake around his neck. A party where you're posed with an honestly frightening costume character. You in a bright, mesh jersey standing back to back with your dad, arms crossed, looking at the camera with your chins tilted upward. 

 They all look like good memories. The little boy in the fair picture appears several more times, and as he loses his baby fat, Mike sees the resemblance he shares with you and your father. It's too close to be a cousin—your eyes and mouths shaped the same—so he must be your brother. 

 Mike doesn't know how to feel about that because again, you've never uttered a word. As far as he knew, you were an only child, so why…

 He gets lost in the pages, watching you grow and pose mostly next to your dad. Smiles and laughs and silly faces with your tongues sticking out. Your mom is in some, brother in others, and then, you're in a cap and gown, grinning widely next to your dad who's beginning to gray at the temples. His own smile is barely there now, a ghost of what was seen in the previous photos. It's forced, it's sad, and it's the last picture in the book. 

 Mike's chest hurts. He wonders what happened, when exactly you'd lost him. Was it a quick goodbye, or had it been drawn out and painful? Had he been sick for a long time? He'd looked perfectly healthy in all the shots. Maybe a car accident that took both him and your brother…

 He flips to check for one last photo on the back of the page, but it's empty. However, tucked in a tiny, paper pocket is a folded up note that Mike stares at for a few solid minutes, debating the pros and cons of reading it. He knows he's already violated your privacy by looking through the album, and fuck, he's only been in your house for a couple hours at most—how has he already managed to tumble down such a humongous rabbit hole? 

 Your tiny snores reach his ears, and Mike gently pulls the note out, biting his lip as he unfolds it as quietly as possible. It's soft, like it's been read too many times, and the letters scribbled in all caps are beginning to fade, but the words are still legible. 

 It starts with your name, and then it's all apologies—sorry I can't stay, I have to leave, you don't understand how much this hurts me and so on. 

 Mike's eyebrows pull together the further he reads, blood pounding against the walls of his arteries, pulse picking up because he understands now.

 Your father wasn't in any sort of accident; he just left. 

 The letter ends with a gut-wrenching, You'll always be my little girl, and Mike nearly crumples the paper up to throw away. He resists somehow, simply folds it with shaky hands and slips it back into the pocket at the back of the album. 

 He's never been so mad at a stranger in his life. This must be it. This must be why you are—

 "Should've known you'd go straight for the photo album." 

 Your voice makes Mike's body jolt, his face heating as he turns to look at you with wide eyes. 

 "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean—"

 You wave him off and prop yourself up on an elbow. "It's whatever."

 But, it's not. It's this huge part of you that still affects you to this day. Mike is no psychologist, but he has a pretty good feeling this is the main reason you hold everyone at arm's length. 

 "Why didn't you ever tell me?" 

 "What's there to tell?" 

 Sitting up fully, your gaze moves to the screen just in time to see Michael Jordan step off of the spaceship and onto the baseball field. I Believe I Can Fly is playing, and you're gritting your teeth. 

 "It's not anything that comes up in normal conversation anyway. I wasn't just gonna hit you with it outta nowhere. Also," you look back to Mike, eyes still sleepy, lips pulling downward in a frown. "I'm not the only one who hid stuff about my family."

 Mike sighs and quietly tells you, "That's different," as he closes the album and slides it back into the row of books. 

 "Is it, though? Is it really?" 

 "I..." 

 Mike shuts his mouth and actually thinks on it. He wasn't trying to lie to you about his home life or his heritage. He's only half Greek on his mom's side, after all, and he's only been to the country to visit family a couple of times—once when he was a child and once right before college. The culture is a little different over there, but it all seems so natural to him, especially after being raised to speak the language. 

 Honestly, he didn't ever tell you because he didn't think to, but Mike can understand the shock of walking into his childhood home and getting thrown through that loop. It must have been jarring for you. 

 It's a positive aspect of his life, though. It's not something that's damaged him or made him cold toward others. And, he hates describing you in such a way, but it's true.

 At least it makes sense now. 

 "I guess not," he shrugs. He's not about to fight you on it. 

 You stare at him for a while, waking up a bit more as you rub your eyes and stretch. 

 Then, you flop back down on your pillows. 

 "So. Any questions, Zacharias?" 

 He's surprised that you're asking, and though he doesn't want to twist the metaphorical knife in your gut, he still replies honestly: "Too many."

 A long exhale through your nose, and then you're patting the mattress next to you and grumbling, "Fine, I'll do my best, but you gotta come up here."

 "Why? You gonna need to cuddle afterward?" He can't help but tease. 

 "Fuckin' maybe, dude! We're about to get into my god damn trauma so—"

 Mike is up on his feet and flying toward the bed. He isn't about to sabotage the one fucking moment you're opening yourself up. 

 "Alright, what first?" You ask, trying to look bored, but Mike can clearly see that you're nervous. 

 "He left." 

 "Yeah."

 And then he gets the full story. 

 Your dad was pretty perfect during your younger years—a bit of a workaholic but still good. He took you to dances like the one you'd both dressed for in the photograph. You'd spend days at amusement parks where he'd carry you on his shoulders. He coached the basketball team you'd played on as a child.

 "Not saying he played favorites, but I was definitely closer to him than my brother was."

 The brother who developed a drug problem at fourteen, who was always either out with his little addict friends or at home where he would just scream at you and your mom. 

 "He went to rehab a couple times, but it didn't stick." 

 He left home at seventeen and hasn't gotten in touch with you or your parents since. 

 "I keep thinking one day we'll get a call from the police saying they found his wallet on a fucking corpse, but who knows. Maybe he got clean. Maybe he started a family somewhere else. He'd be twenty-five now."

 "Were you ever close with him?"

 You shrug. "We spent a lot of time together when we were really little, but even back then he was kinda a mean kid."

 It very quickly circles back to your father. Mike still doesn't feel like he has all the answers, so he asks through the skin of his lip, "Why'd he leave?"

 At this point, you've got your head in his lap as he sits against the wall. He smooths your hair back from your face every once in a while, something his mom used to do to him when he was very young that always soothed him. 

 He hopes it's having the same effect on you, thinks it might be considering you've had your eyes closed for a while now, humming now and then as you talk. 

 "Honestly, I don't really know. I don't think he and my mom were ever in love. Like, they just kinda settled for each other," you sigh. "They didn't have a lot in common. They had different upbringings. But, they didn't fight or anything—not in front of us. They were good at hiding the hard times from me and my brother. They just didn't… click."

 Mike bites his tongue, wonders if that was hard to watch or if you'd been too naive to notice. 

 Then, there's his second train of thought that's really just the voice in his head screaming, we click, though! You and I work! But he keeps it to himself. This isn't about you and him. 

 "I think maybe dad had, like, a 'stay together for the kids' mentality 'cause as soon as I graduated, he was fuckin' gone. And, I mean gone. We went to a graduation party the next weekend that lasted a few hours—just me and mom—and when we got back his truck wasn't in the driveway and his drawers were empty. He left that note you read on my desk."

 Mike breathes. Just breathes. He tries to make sense of it, how someone could just do that without a real reason. There hadn't been any explanation in the letter, only apologies. 

 "Have you seen him since?" 

 You open your eyes and reply, "Nope," popping the 'p'. "I don't know where he is, and he hasn't reached out. Mom made the drive to my grandma's—his mom—but she said she didn't know where he was either. Pretty sure she was covering for him, though. She was always kind of a bitch. You know, save for the whole paying for my college and all."

 Mike snorts at this, not that there's anything funny about the situation. It's just his first reaction. 

 You ignore it, moving on with an, "Anyway."

 "Anyway," he mimics. 

 "I don't know if you've noticed in the short time you've been here, but my mom is a little… off. Not super good at taking care of herself."

 "Is this why?" 

 "Clever boy," you show a bitter smile. "I didn't really understand since they weren't, like, in love or whatever, but… I think it was the betrayal more than anything. Like, it came outta nowhere, a big ol' slap in the face."

 "Plus, he left you behind," Mike adds, as if you don't already know. 

 Looking up at him, you raise your eyebrows and smirk. "And, now you know about my abandonment issues." The last part comes out in high-pitched, melodic syllables, a little song that would be funny if Mike didn't know it was a coping mechanism. It most definitely is, though. He can tell that you're the type to mask every issue with humor and sarcasm. It's how you've been dealing with him for the last several months. 

 "So, that's my story," you conclude on an exhale. "Now you know all my dirty secrets."

 "For some reason I don't think that's all of them," Mike pets your hair again. "But, probably the important ones."

 "Mm. I guess."

 The rest of the day is really just spent killing time. You cook an easy dinner that you refuse to let Mike help with, then sit in the den with your mom just like you did at lunch. A medical show is playing. Then a reality show. Then a game show. None of you say much of anything, and it's painfully awkward for Mike now that he knows what happened, but he can power through a few days of this if it makes you feel better. 

 Hours pass until you can retreat, and moonlight shines through your bedroom window, not that Mike needs it. He's memorized your body at this point, knows where to touch without even seeing. He makes sure to be gentle, to suckle and blow on your pebbled nipples as you card fingers through his hair and breathe faster and faster. 

 Leaving love bites down your chest and stomach, he sucks on your skin, gently grazing his teeth over every bruise. Mike wants you to see them all the next day—not a staked claim, just something you can't ignore when you look in the mirror, evidence of his feelings in every mark. 

 When you're finally nice and relaxed, he spreads your legs and licks into you, trying not to be too rough with his beard, but a few swipes of it over your clit leave you shaking in his grasp. You whisper his name, the common one that everyone knows him by, but then, rolling off your tongue like a prayer, you call him, "Miche," and he can't help the rumble that rises in his chest. 

 It should be strange. That's the name only his family uses, the one he was born with. He only simplified it so that kids in school wouldn't ask questions or make fun of him, and after that, it just sort of stuck. But, here and now, falling from your lips, it's so soft. So intimate. 

 You whimper when he sucks on your folds, making them swell, making them sensitive. And then, he's pushing his tongue inside of you and humming happily at the taste. His nose is bumping against your clit, and Christ, you even smell good to him—that ripe, tangy aroma that has Mike going a little crazy. He has to make sure he doesn't get too carried away. You can't make very much noise even with the rattling of the air conditioner, but as he slowly slides a finger into your pussy, he hears you moan around the fist you're holding to your mouth. 

 He stretches you just enough to get you ready, then he holds himself over you and pushes into your wet cunt. Your eyes are open, locked with Mike's as your brow raises and your jaw drops. It's erotic, something you've never done with him before. You typically either gaze somewhere other than his face or keep your eyes squeezed shut. 

 Tonight, though, you've been vulnerable and apparently want to stay that way for a little while longer. 

 He bends to catch you in a kiss, lips and tongues moving just as slowly as his hips, and when you reach to tug at Mike's hair, he pants into your mouth. 

 Those words are there again, stuck in his throat but slowly crawling upward until they're just there, pouring from his tongue, "I lo—"

 Until you cut him off with a sharp, "Don't."

 He makes a noise of frustration, wants to protest because he's so deep inside of you, and you're holding onto him like you want him—truly want him, but you mutter once more against his lips, "Don't say it, Miche."

 So, he doesn't. He bottles the confession up and keeps it locked away, hoping like hell that one day you'll let him tell you. 

 After you climax and coat his cock in slick and cream, he gives a few more thrusts and comes inside of you, filling you with himself and wondering why you're so willing to accept him in that way but not in any other. 

 He's hurting again, like he did at his parents' as you walked around like you belonged there. Except it's worse now. 

 If you don't want him to say it, that means you don't want to say it back. 

 He stays with you for a few more minutes before pulling out. You leave to clean up, and while you're gone, Mike sits on the edge of the bed, head in his hands as he tries to get it all out of his system, whispering it out loud to himself: 

 I love you. I love you, I love you.  

 You still let him hold you as you fall asleep, gripping his hand until you can't anymore, and as Mike drifts off behind you, he has one last thought—Just let me.

* There’s only three weeks left of the semester when you head back to campus, and you intend to make the most of every passing day. 

 You pay better attention in class. You study harder in the library to prepare for final exams. You go to a few more Pi Alpha Kappa parties, making sure not to burn yourself out. And, you let Mike fuck your brains out every few days. Sometimes it’s late at night after those parties. Sometimes you're too tired after the nights of drinking and end up just going to bed only to wake up in the morning and have slow, sleepy sex. Sometimes it’s in the middle of the afternoon when you both have breaks between classes.

 Neither of you bring up anything that happened over the break—meeting families, details about your childhoods, how much you learned about one another in general.

 Most importantly, neither of you address that first night at your mom’s, the way Mike had basically worshiped your body, how he’d come so close to uttering the three words you least want to hear. 

 Thinking about it still makes your chest tighten, your heart beat faster. Sometimes when you’re sharing his bed with him, back pressed to his chest, large arm slung over your waist, you think about why it is you’re so vehemently against it. The two of you already act like a couple most of the time. You walk with each other to class when you can. You stick to each other’s sides at parties. You fuck like rabbits and don’t care who knows about it. 

 And, though you’re hesitant to admit it even to yourself, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t have feelings for him. Mike is your best friend at this point. He’s insanely hot. He’s goofy. He’s kind. Yeah, the frat boy persona he puts on around his friends is annoying, but you understand it a little better now. Plus, he always takes off the mask when he’s alone with you, giving both you and himself a break from it.

 You know your time with him is quickly coming to an end—for about two months, at least—and whenever you think too hard about it, it makes you pout and huff. You’re not looking forward to your summer classes without him, but he promises on several occasions that you can call him while he’s at his parents’ if you ever need help with the material.

 It’s impressive, the way he’s able to act like nothing happened. You know it must be troubling him, but it’s not like you can do anything to soothe him. If he was really upset with you, he would have stopped spending time with you, but he hasn’t. He just bottles it up, keeps smiling at you all crookedly, and keeps satisfying you in the bedroom (more than satisfying honestly. There’s really not a word to describe what he does).

 He’s back to getting along with everyone in the Pike house, everyone being Erwin. It’s a relief just because you don’t have to put up with the tension between them, but it’s also awkward. And, a little frightening. 

 The brothers have Smash Brothers tournaments and movie nights, a few date parties here and there, and it never fails that at some point during the evenings, you find your neck prickling as it always does when you feel someone staring at you. You always hope it’s Mike. Fuck, you wish it was him. But, when you glance up and around, it’s Erwin. Every time. His deep blue eyes are trained on you, the corner of his mouth twitching upward on one side. It doesn’t matter if he’s alone or if he’s got Maddie or some other girl sitting in his lap. He's fucking shameless, and it makes your stomach hurt.

 You keep your mouth shut for the sake of the friendship but also for the sake of Erwin’s pretty face. If he and Mike ever got into an actual fight, Erwin would probably be able to get a good few punches in, but you’re nearly positive Mike would end up destroying him in the long run. That could get him kicked out of school. That could get him thrown in jail. 

 Finals roll around, and you manage to pass all of them without issue, even getting grades above the class average. You feel fantastic, like your long term goals might actually be attainable. You have a long road ahead of you, but your GPA at the end of the year is more than enough to raise your confidence. 

 Mike asks you to come back to his house for the couple weeks between the end of the semester and the start of your summer courses, but you turn him down, too scared of what might happen while you’re there. Acting like a couple in front of his parents will only exacerbate his feelings as well as yours, and you’d like to avoid that as best you can. 

 Even now as you’re standing outside by the Jeep, he tries to persuade you one last time, almost pleading, “Are you sure you don’t wanna come?”

 “Miche, I’m sure,” you tell him, trying to stay stern, but it’s hard when his sea glass eyes light up at the sound of his real name. It’s a habit you’ve gotten into, a bad one considering how much he likes it. How much you like it. “I already told you I wanna spend the free time I have at mom’s. I need to check up on her and… Probably clean, honestly.”

 He lets out a little grunt of disappointment, then nods. “Yeah, I get it.”

 “You saw what she’s like,” you remind him. “Someone needs to drop in every once in a while to make sure she isn’t, like, wasting away or something.”

 “Makes sense. I’ll be bummed, though.”

 “Be bummed all you want,” you smile. “I’ll probably still bother you over break. A lot.”

 He sounds terribly sincere when he mumbles, “You never bother me.” It makes your stomach flip in the way you do not enjoy.

 Mike sighs, taking in one of those deep breaths that makes his broad chest rise then fall, calling attention to it and making you bite your bottom lip. 

 “Alright, I should get going,” he concedes, bending down to kiss you too deeply for simple friends with benefits. It doesn’t stop you from humming into his mouth and smiling against him. You hold him by the back of his neck as he pulls your body close to his, his voice muffled when he tells you mischievously, “Don’t forget to send pictures.”

 It makes you laugh, and you lean back to swipe your tongue over his lips so that he groans and chases after you. 

 “I promise I will. Perv.” The beating sun is nothing in comparison to the way your body heats at the thought. You’ve sent him nudes before, but the idea of him looking at them from hours away, fisting his cock as he admires your body through his phone… It makes seeing him off even harder.

 After a couple more softer kisses, Mike swings into the Wrangler and pulls out of the lot. You stand in his parking space and watch him until he’s out of sight, then walk back to your dorm, dragging your feet the whole way. 

 You only stay at your mom’s house for a week, and just like you predicted, you spend most of it cleaning. She thanks you the whole time but makes excuses in between. You just reassure her that you don’t mind even though you do. She really should see a therapist and sort out the depression she’s been stuck in for a few years now, but telling someone they need professional help is easier said than done. 

 Sleeping in your old bed is much harder this time around. You're all too aware of the weight that isn't behind you, and most nights you lay awake for at least a couple of hours trying to imagine it. 

 Like you’d promised, you send him a few pictures, some of them just lewd selfies with your tits pouring out of the cups of your bra, but others are of your naked body in the bathtub, sometimes a shot of you with your hand between your legs. It feels wrong to touch yourself in your childhood home, but it’s necessary, especially when Mike sends you a few pictures of his own—one with his torso on display, defined abs absolutely mouthwatering and the V of his hips suggestively leading into mesh shorts. Another is of him in the gray joggers he wears all the time, the ones that always show off his cock. 

 He’s so fucking hot it atually hurts, makes your pussy throb as you crave his touch. It’s an awful feeling honestly, but even worse than that is the way you miss him. You aren’t supposed to miss him. You’re just supposed to be friends who have sex. Nothing more than that.

 It's why you’re glad to go back to school. Your classes will distract you, keep you from thinking about him too much. The semester is shorter during the summer, so you have to work even harder than you do during fall and spring. You don’t really think it’ll be a problem since you’re trying to cram your brain full of anything other than Mike which is great motivation for studying. 

 Nothing is gonna get you off track, you tell yourself. Nothing will interfere with your studies. That’s the plan.

 Then, you meet Zeke Jaeger. 

* You're studying in the library. It seems like you spend most of your time here, nice and quiet and empty. The campus isn't nearly as busy in the summer as it is during the rest of the school year. No parties, no sporting events, just you alone with your books. 

 It's nice. Most of the time. A little boring but mostly nice. 

 Your eyes are getting tired, and when you check your phone, you realize why. It's almost eleven PM, meaning you've been studying for about six hours. You've had longer nights, usually spent on the phone getting quizzed on the information you're learning with a few breaks in between, but that wasn't the case tonight as Mike had to spend the day with family from out of town. 

 It's okay. You're supposed to be distancing yourself anyway. 

 Taking a deep breath, you pack up your books and slide your laptop into your bag, then stand and swing it over your shoulder. 

 The strap is too long. The bag swings too hard, and your heart sinks when you hear a little grunt followed by a, "Agh, hot!" 

 Turning with wide eyes, you immediately start apologizing, "I'm so sorry, oh my god, fuck, I'm so sorry!"

 A head of light blond hair looks up from the brown stain on his white t-shirt, icy blue eyes narrowed behind wire-rimmed glasses, but when he sees the mortification on your face, his own expression softens, and he chuckles. 

 "It's fine. You can calm down."

 You're still breathing heavily, guilt making your hands shake, but he really doesn't look angry. In fact, he's grinning now, eyebrows raised like he's amused. 

 The longer you stare at him, the more familiar he looks. You're pretty sure you've seen him before. Many times before, actually, and then it clicks that this guy is on the front page of the school website. You see him every fucking time you log in, looking much more stern than he does now. Baseball hat and jersey, mitt on one hand as he hides his other in it, and yeah, you know him. 

 "You're Zeke Jaeger."

 He makes a face, scrunching his nose up and squinting. "Yeeeeah, I guess I am."

 Best pitcher in the college league despite being a sophomore like you. He's beaten the records of some major league players. 

 You don't give a fuck about baseball, have never even been to any of the school's games, but you've been hearing about Zeke since the last season. You've learned to tune it out because, again, no shits given (and also you're much more partial to lacrosse now), but he's hard to ignore when he's staring you right in the face. 

 "Well, uh," you try to act casual. It's something you're pretty good at these days. "Cool."

 He snorts, picking his shirt off his chest to air it out like it'll help, then says, "I don't know your name, though."

 You run your tongue over your teeth, wondering why he cares, then introduce yourself. 

 "Oh, you're Zacharias' little girlfriend, aren't you?"

 Your stomach flips at the mention of him. 

 "We're not dating."

 Zeke cocks his head to the side. "No?"

 "No. Just friends."

 He hums but doesn't say anything, and your eyes are once again drawn to his chest as he fans over the stain. 

 "Okay, let me get you a new shirt or something," you try. 

 He laughs again. "I highly doubt you've got a men's shirt tucked in that bag of yours, sweetheart."

 "I—" you pout for a second, mumble, "Okay, yeah, fair point."

 "Another coffee, though," he muses out loud. "Wouldn't be the worst thing."

 You shoot him a finger gun and smack your lips. "On it. Where do you get coffee at eleven o'clock?"

 "I'll walk with you," he states more than offers. 

 Then, you're both leaving the library, leaving campus, and going to a little 24 hour cafe where you blow on lattes and cover the basics about each other—philosophy major, valedictorian of his high school class, playing baseball since age seven, etc. You should sleep. You should get ready for another long day of studying.  

 But it's hard to make good decisions when Zeke Jaeger is smirking at you from across the table like you're the most interesting thing he's ever seen. 

* Zeke gets your number that night. You're not exactly sure how, but he does. 

 Then he doesn’t text you for three days. It doesn’t bother you that much. You figure he has other things to focus on. He’s on campus to take a couple courses and practice for the upcoming season, so he’s probably just busy. If that night had just been a one-off, it’s fine with you. It was cool to talk to him, but your heart isn’t broken.

 These are all the thoughts and justifications running through your head when you’re in class on Tuesday and your phone lights up during the PowerPoint lecture. You glance down, expecting Mike or Hitch, but it’s an unknown number instead. Eyes flicking from the projection screen to your much tinier one, you slide to open the message and chew on your lip. 

 Hey, it’s Zeke. You have classes this afternoon?

 You do not. And, you are too quick to tell him that.

 He takes you to a little Mom and Pop restaurant, too far to walk so you end up riding in the black Bronco he drives, trying to convince yourself that it definitely does not make him any more attractive to you. Because you aren’t attracted to him in the first place. Right?

 You sit at a table for two eating paninis and fruit. Zeke asks how classes are going, you ask about practice, and as you talk, he gets that look in his eyes again, like you amuse him or interest him or something.

 It confuses you, and for a moment, you’re taken back to last fall at that first Pi Kappa Alpha party, the one you met Mike at when he tried to get you to shotgun a beer. God, he had been so obnoxious back then, always following you around and flirting and—

 “You listening, sweetheart?”

 Your eyes refocus on the man in front of you, his raised eyebrows and little smirk. “Looks like you’re a million miles away. Sorry if I’m boring you.”

 “No, no,” you try to defend. “I just zoned out for a second. Realized I, uh, got an answer wrong on the quiz I took today.”

 “That sucks,” he hums. “Anyway, I can stop talking about baseball.”

 “It’s okay. Just go over the last, like, ten seconds,” you say with a laugh, hoping your cheeks will stop burning sooner rather than later.

 Zeke chuckles and does just that, doesn’t seem irritated or put out. He tells you about how he has a new trainer this year to warm him up and make sure his throwing arm is in top shape. “I hope he’s as good as my last. Colt was always on it, knew exactly how hot to make the warm compresses and how cold to make the ice packs. Stuff like that. He learned my needs.”

 You both laugh, and if it was anyone else, you’d have an innuendo sliding off your tongue, but for some reason, you don’t think Zeke would want to hear it, like he’d be unimpressed with your vulgar humor. 

 Back at the college, he drives you to your dorm, explaining that he lives in the apartments on the other side of campus and wouldn’t want to make you walk that far. Then, as you slide out of the Bronco, he stops you with a smooth, “Hey,” that makes you look over your shoulder at him. “Make sure you save my number in your phone, okay? I’ll text you soon.”

 The way your stomach flips is worrisome, a feeling you’re only used to when you’re with…

 “Yeah, okay.”

 He grins widely and nods, then waits for you to get a good distance away from the car before driving off.

 No distractions, you’d said. It’ll be good for your focus, you’d said. 

 What a fucking joke. 

*

Mike has to help you with some homework that weekend. You can hear his smile through the phone, snort when he makes his little nerd jokes, then sigh when he gets to the actual subject and explains it to you without a problem. His brain is incredible, and when you think about it too hard, it makes you warm inside. 

 “You’re so fucking smart. Why don’t you let people know?”

 “Maybe I just want you to know,” he chuckles. “You think I wanna spend my days tutoring every idiot who needs help?”

 “Miche, did you just call me an idiot?”

 You hear another breathy laugh followed by a sigh. “I have many, many names for you, but ‘idiot’ isn’t one of them.”

 “Oh yeah?” You play. “And, what might those other names be?”

 He lists a few, all of them making your face flush and your body tingle, and before you know it, you’ve got your pants off and your fingers between your legs. You can hear Mike’s heavy breathing on the other end, the wet sound of his hand stroking his lubricated cock, and when you reach your climax, you moan out your usual, “Oh fuck, oh fuck, Miche.” 

 He tumbles down right behind you, panting and telling you in a voice of disbelief, “Jesus, it just keeps coming.” It makes the pulses of your orgasm even stronger, remembrance of all the times he’s painted you in white, and God, you are so ready for him to get back to the school.

 Then, there’s the voice in the back of your head that makes you think maybe it’s better that he’s gone for now, that he might not be too pleased that you’re spending time with another guy. But, it’s not like things with Zeke are going anywhere. You wouldn’t even call him a friend. You text on and off, have brunch or lunch or coffee depending on the time of day. 

 And, yeah, he calls you pet names, tells you that you look nice even when you’re just in leggings and a t-shirt, talks about his family and…

 Okay, it could potentially lead to something more, but it’s only been a week, and considering his golden boy status, he could have anyone he wants, so why would he even be interested in you in any way, shape, or form?

 Naturally, your thoughts circle back to Mike and the way he could have any girl on his arm, but he still chooses to spend time with you. To fuck you. To nearly confess his feelings to you. You have to wonder if you’re emitting some kind of scent or beacon, if there’s a sign hanging above your head with an arrow pointing down. Sports gods, come get a piece. 

 If only you’d never gone to that party. If you had just kept your head down like you had freshman year. Your life would be so much easier now.

 But now you’re in Zeke’s apartment listening to him rant about some philosopher you’ve never even heard of. He’s gesturing with his hands, flipping curling, blond bangs from his face, and whenever he pauses to think, he scratches his beard. He’s very fond of the white t-shirts and jeans get-up, sometimes switches it up and wears a button down under a sweater vest. Both looks are becoming of him no matter how much you try to deny it, but when he drops down onto the couch next to you and peers into your god damn soul with those piercing, blue eyes, you have to choke back a dreamy sigh.

 What is happening to you?

 “So, what do you think about it?” He asks, looking hopeful that you might have some insight on this matter.

 But, you simply laugh and shake your head. “Zeke,” you start. “I’m gonna be real honest with you here. I didn’t understand a fucking thing you just said.”

 You assume he’ll be disappointed, maybe tire of you since you can’t be as intellectually stimulating as he’d like you to, but Zeke exhales in a lighthearted sort of way, shows one of those amused smiles, and tells you, “You’re cute.”

 Anyone else and you would have snapped back, something along the lines of, don’t fucking patronize me, but with Zeke, all you can do is stare at him and let your lips part, silently asking for something you won’t speak out loud.

 His gaze moves to your mouth for a split second. That soft smile turns into one of his famous smirks. Then, he’s back on his feet and asking, “You wanna go to dinner?”

 You are more than relieved at the shift in atmosphere, but your heart is still beating too hard as you follow him downstairs and to his car. 

* Summer is passing quickly. Too quickly. The eleven week classes are kicking your ass, or are close to kicking your ass. Lucky for you, you have your own private tutor just a call or text away. Mike helps you, and you laugh and goof around, shoot off innuendo after innuendo, but the phone sex slows to a halt eventually. You tell him that you’re tired, and you are. It isn’t a lie. But, it also isn’t the full truth.

 Between classes when you could be resting, you’re eating out with Zeke. Or, watching him and the rest of the baseball team practice for the upcoming season. Or, sitting in his apartment, watching movies and chatting about all manner of things. Nothing important, of course—there’s no diving deep into your life story like you had done with Mike over Spring Break, but Zeke still learns the little things about you. Why you’re majoring in geosciences and how you became good friends with some of the Pike guys. You don’t give him the full details on that one—that you got blackout drunk and fucked Mike and just couldn’t stop. You don’t think Zeke would be interested in hearing about it anyway.

 You learn a bit about his dad and stepmom, the latter of whom he isn’t very fond of. He also has a little brother who’ll be attending the college starting this fall, and he’s interested in the Greek life. Naturally, you build PKA up. Even if there are some… Problematic people in the house, there are also a lot of really good guys. 

 “I’ll make sure to pass it along to him,” Zeke tells you one evening as you’re both sprawled on the couch, backs against the armrests as you face each other. It’s how he seems to prefer to sit when the TV isn’t on. When you asked him why, he had told you, “Just like looking at you,” and you didn’t know how to respond. You still don’t know how to respond.

 “Eren thinkin’ about joining any sports?” You ask now. “Does baseball run in the family or anything?”

 Zeke snorts. “Kid couldn’t hit a baseball even if it was on one of the t-ball stands.”

 “I’ll take that as a ‘no’, then.”

 “I would say he’s more academically inclined, but,” Zeke sighs. “That would be a lie.”

 You can never tell if he actually likes his brother. Most of the time he complains about him, but every once in a while he’ll bring up something cute Eren did as a little boy, and you see a fond glimmer in his light eyes. 

 “Anyway,” Zeke waves off the subject and transitions to a new one—one that makes your stomach drop. “Are you gonna tell Zacharias about us?”

 You choke on your own spit, leaning forward to cough a couple times, then challenge him with a nervous laugh, “I wasn’t aware there was anything to tell him.”

 Zeke tilts his head, mouth pulling up as he raises his eyebrows. “Come on,” he chuckles.

 “Come on, what?” You frown. If you were with Mike, you both would have died at that. Come on my face, you can hear him say, and you have to fight a smile because there’s absolutely no way you could explain that to the man in front of you.

 “You don’t have to play coy, sweetheart. We both know there’s something going on between us.” He says it with such confidence that even if he wasn’t right you wouldn’t be able to argue with him. The assumption should annoy you, should make you scoff and leave, but instead you sit there staring, caught up in his gaze and cocky grin.

 “I—”

 “It’s okay, you know. Not like you’re alone in this.”

 Those questions swim through your mind again, all the insecurities that you’ve been sorting through with Mike, but now that voice is louder because that sense of trust hasn’t formed yet. You’ve only connected with Zeke over meals and movies. It sounds domestic, but despite your apparently obvious attraction to him, you still don’t feel like you really know him. 

 But, he draws you in, like a moth to a flame. You can’t help it. There’s just something about him that makes you want him to like you, like you want to impress him, like you want to be good for him. You’ve been trying to ignore those thoughts, but they’re much harder to fight now that you’re sitting in front of him, taking in his wavy hair and pale blue eyes, that ever present smirk on his face, the curve of his neck that disappears into his shirt.

 He could just want sex. He could just want a fling. Wait for everyone to get back on campus and drop you for another girl. You tell yourself you wouldn’t care; you’re good at keeping things casual.

 Wouldn’t it be fun to be his arm candy for a while, though? Let people look at you and whisper louder than they did when they’d see you and Mike together? You don’t care about status, about being in the spotlight. It’s more for the experience, dating someone who could teach you things.

 Mike teaches you things, that voice pops up again. He’s been helping you with your work for almost a year now. You can’t just overlook that. 

 “What, are you weighing the pros and cons over there or something?”

 You snort. “Maybe. We still don’t really know each other all that well, Zeke.”

 “Might I remind you that we’ve been hanging out all summer? Did you honestly think it wouldn’t lead to anything more?”

 “Honestly,” you mimic, “I never thought you’d be interested.”

 “Why wouldn’t I be?” His brow furrows like he’s genuinely confused. “You’re smart. You’re funny. You’re cute.” 

 God, you can’t even count how many times he’s called you ‘cute’, how many times it’s made you blush over the last several weeks, just like it does now.

 Then, he pushes, “Do you not find me at—”

 “Of course I do,” you cut him off. “I don’t know who doesn’t, which is exactly why I don’t know where this is coming from.”

 Zeke sighs like he’s annoyed, then turns the hand on his thigh palm up and beckons you with two fingers. “Come here.”

 “What?”

 “Come here.”

 Your blood pressure spikes, breaths coming in little puffs that have no way of getting to your brain. It’s probably why you obey, rolling to your knees and clumsily crawling over to him. You stop short, right between his bent knees, but Zeke sits up, straightens his legs, and pulls you into his lap.

 More of that precious air leaves your lungs as you exhale too sharply, staring at him with huge eyes. You don’t know what’s happening, can’t believe it’s happening. It doesn’t feel real even as you rest your hands on his shoulders, even when he holds your hips and pulls you so that your full weight is on him, but fuck, you can’t say anything. You can’t make a sound. All you can do is wait for him to make his next move.

 “Why do you look scared?” His voice is just above a whisper, but at this proximity you can hear him without a problem. 

 “I don’t have a lot of experience sitting in men’s laps,” you manage, trying to keep your usual careless tone, but you doubt it works.

 “For some reason I don’t believe that.”

 You rear back, actually offended. “Excuse m—”

 That ire, however, melts away as quickly as it arose. Zeke slides fingers up your waist, all the way to the back of your neck to bring your face to his—your lips to his. 

 He feels different, not at all what you’re used to. His kiss is more demanding, hungry, and God, you still can’t breathe, can’t think straight because his tongue is moving past your lips, and you’re letting it, letting him taste you as your fingertips dig into the flesh of his shoulders. You lift yourself from him just a little only for Zeke to pull you back down with the hand still gripping your hip. He makes sure you feel him when he grinds up into you, the zipper of his jeans rubbing you through your little shorts so that you gasp into his mouth. 

 You both stay like that for what feels like a fucking eternity, biting and sucking on lips, stroking over each others’ tongues until you absolutely have to break apart. You’re panting now, body still tense on top of his, and Zeke stares at you with half-lidded eyes and shows the ghost of a smile.

 “Oh, I’m gonna have so much fun with you.”

 The statement sets you on fire, so much so that all you can do is whimper quietly and lean in for more. 

  And, as you get lost in Zeke Jaeger, you decide for yourself.

I need to tell Mike

[ next ]

[thedeathdeelers]

Racing Hearts

[a companion piece to this gorgeous piece of Luke art brought to you by the ever talented @mamirugbee]

   It‘s a warm and quiet night as Julie lies comfortably on a sleeping Luke, the sound of his strong heartbeat thudding steadily against her ear.

   Her finger lazily traces patterns on his chest as her eyes roam the dark room, taking in the familiar surroundings of yet another hotel room. Julie had come to learn that no matter what country they were in, the hotel rooms were always the same.

   Her eyes brush over his discarded navy and black suit along with his black band tee draped over the sofa across the room, landing on the shiny helmet propped on top of the coffee table, the gloss glittering with the light of the moon shining through the slanted shutters of the window. Her gaze lingers on the various logos littered across the top of it, each one of them so familiar to her now. As her eyes take in the shape of the Sunset Curve Racing logo, her heart warms once more at the memory of Luke pulling it off earlier that day, as he swiped his sweaty hair away from his face, listening intently to the scores. She also distinctly remembers the brightness of his smile that had been visible from miles away as his name echoed through the circuit, the announcers praising him as the youngest driver to ever win the Mexican Grand Prix.

   Her eyes flick away from the helmet to rest on the trophy standing tall on the centre of the dining table tucked away in the corner of their room, the silver glint of it guiding her gaze down towards the name engraved on the plaque at its base.

   She had watched him from the base of the podium as his competitors sprayed him with champagne, his smile not waning for a second as his hat, his favourite Screams from the Attic band tee and his suit tied at his waist got drenched. The multicoloured flags behind him had flapped in the wind as he turned his gaze, searching for her in the gathering crowd. She had backed away the second his eyes landed on her, the growing mischievous smile on his face a warning sign as he started towards her, the sticky nature of dried champagne pushing her to move even further away from his approaching hands.

   She had lost of course, a smile now making its way on her lips as she remembers his arms snaking their way around her waist from the back, lifting her up until her feet were helplessly kicking the air in front of her, her squeals louder than the cheering crowd.

   Julie pulls her attention away from the day’s events and back to the quiet room she finds herself in, her eyes coming back to trace the features of the sleeping driver beneath her.

   Her heart grows tenfold as she takes in the peaceful almost boyish look on his face, sleep taking away any edge it might carry during the day. Without her permission, her fingers skim the lines of his chest, dipping past his collarbone and up his neck as they settle at the base of his jawline.

   She thanks whatever greater power brought him safely back to her after yet another successful race.

   Because truth be told, even though she had gotten better at controlling the anxiety that riddled her whenever he walked away from her and towards his car, Julie still worried about him and struggled to sit still while she watched him race to the finish line.

   Just like she was now, she often found herself wondering how Luke kept his pre-race nerves at bay as he got ready to risk his life again and again for his job - his passion. She admired for him, even if it scared the living daylights out of her.

   She always watched him as he got ready while the team, including Alex and Reggie, prepped him before he slid into his seat behind the wheel, glimpsing a look of peace settling on his features as he closed his eyes for a few seconds, shutting out the flurry of activity happening around him.

   Julie had always assumed it was due to the music pulsing through his headphones, the loud beating of the drums and heavy guitar riffs blocking out the world for just those few seconds. It was a ritual she’d seen time and time again, even before he knew she existed - but during his last few races, she’d been seeing less and less of that. The headphones themselves would be left dangling in her hands as he walked away - no music in his ears, his eyes never leaving hers.

   Maybe whatever brought on that peaceful expression to his face could help her, too.

   Her fingers move upwards once more, her thumb gently swiping against his cheek and grazing the day old stubble. Her index finger glides down the length of his nose, her hand hovering just above his mouth when she feels lips pressing into her palm.

   A giggle slips out of her before she can stop herself.

   “Did I wake you?”

   Her whispered question is met with a soft grunt, followed by a hand tightening its hold on her hip.

   “Yes. No. Maybe?” His sleepy answer brings out more laughter to bubble out, her hand retracting itself from his face to slap across her mouth.

   “I’m sorry,” comes her muffled apology.

   “No you’re not.”

   A beat of silence follows before she slips her hand off her face and settles it back on his chest.

   “No I’m not.”

   He grins at her reply, his eyes still closed.

   “How come you’re up?” His brow furrows before he cracks an eye open to peek at her. “Wait — what time is it?”

   Julie shrugs, answering both of his questions in one swift motion.

   “Couldn’t sleep?”

   “No, I’m fine I just...” She tries to think of a reason, but all she can think about is that peaceful look on his face before a race, and she suddenly finds herself itching to ask him.

   “I- I was just thinking about today, and your races in general and I...” she trails off, not entirely sure how to phrase this.

   She feels the hand on her hip give her one quick squeeze, and realises her eyes had drifted away from his gaze.

   She looks back up at him to find him looking at her with both eyes open, a curious and slightly concerned, gleam to them.

   Right. This was Luke — she could do this.

   “It’s just that I know the anxiety that comes along with having a loved one getting into a race car will never fade, especially not after...” she trails off, taking in a deep breath before continuing. “But I- I always see you do this thing before you race. Like suddenly all of the anxiety that was there just kind of...melts away?” Julie registers her words and hurries to explain herself. “I don’t mean you’re not anxious anymore! Or that you’re completely relaxed or— I don’t know how to explain this. It’s like you’re just suddenly okay? Ugh, I’m sorry I don’t know what I’m saying.” She drags her hand towards her face as she hides behind it, hoping she can blame her lack of sleep on whatever the hell that was.

   Anxiety about maybe dying just casually melting away?? Where did that come from?

   The silence that follows only causes her to worry even more, until she feels a hand rest against hers, only to then gently pull it away from her face.

   He holds onto it as she looks up at him again, his thumbs softly tracing her knuckles.

   “I know what you mean, Jules.” He tilts one side of his mouth up into a half smile before he continues. “I’ve always had this habit of losing myself to music right before the race starts — ever since I was a kid music just kind of...I don’t know, had this calming effect on me? Or no, wait.” She watches him as he screws his mouth up, his eyes looking up towards the ceiling as he tries to come up with the right words. “Okay so maybe not calm exactly, but music has always been able to help me sort out how I feel, right? And just like it can help me understand how angry or sad or happy I am, I find that if I choose the right song, the right melody or just the right guitar riff, I can almost will myself to just — feel the way I want to feel? If that makes sense?”

His eyes come back down in search of hers as he struggles to explain himself, but just like she always does, Julie knows exactly what he means.

“Yeah, it does. Music is magic like that,” she tells him, a little smile sneaking its way onto her lips.

“Exactly!” The hand holding hers squeezes once before his thumb goes back to its soothing motion. He grins down at her, a smile just as bright as the one she saw on the podium earlier today, except this one was just for her to see.

Her gaze shifts down to his nose, her next question on the tip on her tongue struggling to make its way out. Was this maybe a little too personal? They’ve been together for a few months now but there were times where it still felt so new — she’d get shy or flustered like a school girl, getting tongue tied just at the sight of his brilliant smile. She had a feeling it would always be that way with Luke.

She hoped it would be.

“Jules?”

His voice interrupts her thoughts, bringing her back to the conversation as her eyes reflexively find their way back up to his.

Before she can overthink it, the words spill out of her.

”I um- It’s just that I noticed in the last few races you’ve stopped doing that — listening to music right up until the race starts, I mean. And yet even then you still get that look on your face so I just....wanted to know why - or how - I guess.”

His expression grows soft at her words, his eyes roaming her face once, twice, three times.

“Hmm, something more magical than music came into my life.”

She waits for him to continue, to elaborate and make sense. Instead he just stares at her, as if his vague statement was all the answer she needed.

“Um..what?”

He laughs quietly at her confusion, the vibrations of his laughter reaching the ear still pressed against his chest.

Not known to be patient, Julie jokingly scowls at him, attempting to look unimpressed as he laughs at her.

“What?” She doesn’t mean to, but a slight whine slips into her tone, followed by a pout settling on her lips. This only makes him laugh even harder, her head shaking with the movement of his chest.

“Nothing, nothing.” He chuckles some more while she half-heartedly glares at him, before continuing. “I thought I was being obvious but I guess Alex was right.”

“Alex? What about Alex?”

He shakes his head at her. “Nah, never mind. He just likes to tell me how wrong I am sometimes, that’s all.”

A snort makes its way out of her before she can stop herself. “When doesn’t he...”

He chuckles once more at her words, before quieting down as his eyes flicker down to her lips.

“Luke?”

His eyes tick back up at her questioningly, a smile curling her lips at his short attention span.

Or maybe he just got distracted by her? Huh.

“You were saying about something else taking over music...?”

“Oh! Oh right, yeah sorry. Uh, I mean it hasn’t taken over music exactly — it’s more like I’ve found something else that just kind of,” he lets go of her hand as he reaches over to trace a finger down her cheek. “Better embodies the magic of music for me? Kind of like the living embodiment of it, you could say.”

Her heart starts beating a little faster at his words even as her brain struggles to comprehend his words. Was he-

“Do you get what I’m trying to say, Julie?”

Unable to speak, Julie slowly shakes her head.

The hand on her face cradles her cheek, his fingers weaving their way into her hair.

“You, Jules. You calm my nerves before a race better than any song I’ve ever added to my playlist. I-” A chuckle escapes him before he continues, “Just the thought of you brings me this sense of peace, and it just kind of settles in, pushing away at any jitters that try to shake me before a race. I don’t know how to explain it, even if it’s pretty simple to me.” He stops to stare into her eyes for a second, Julie fully unable to articulate any word or thought.

“I just close my eyes for a few seconds, and picture you. Your voice, your eyes, your smile. I picture you running towards me after a race like you did that first time, and suddenly I’m just excited to race and get to the other side so I can hold you again.”

She feels his thumb gently swipe across her cheek; up and down, up and down.

“I guess what I’m trying to say — what I thought was obvious but maybe Alex was right — is that you’re the reason I’ve been getting better in all my races, the reason I even won today. You make me a better driver, make me want to be a better person.” He tries to draw her closer, his head tilting down towards hers, lifting it off his pillow as he whispers against the crown of her head,

“I love you Jules.”

Still taken by the confession that has left her a little dizzy, Julie pulls herself closer to Luke, wrapping her arms around him as she tightens her hold on him, her face snuggling into his chest. They had already said those three words to each other numerous times before, neither one of them shy about letting the other know the true depth of their feelings.

But somehow, this felt different.

“I love you,” she mouths into the space right above his heart, pressing a kiss into his skin. She feels his fingers twitch in her hair, letting her know that he heard her, felt her, too.

Silence settles in the dark room, neither one of them moving, too happy and comfortable to ruin the moment. They both eventually fall asleep in each other’s arms, ready to conquer whatever the world threw their way - one race at a time.

fin

[fanficshiddles]

Tear You To Pieces, Chapter 9

Kelly shut the curtains as soon as she got into the rather shabby B&B room. But it was the best she could afford in the meantime, she had no idea how long she was going to have to be on the run for, so didn’t want to blow all of her money too quickly.

She’d managed to budget herself to last on the run for around a year. She had to include hair dye into the monthly budget. As even though it had been two months, she had no idea if Loki was still looking for her or not, so she only went out in disguise to be on the safe side.

She was still not over what happened, what was still happening. And she knew it was all her fault, she would never be able to get over it. She had unleashed the monster, literally.

Not bothering to turn the TV on, she just got into bed and tried not to think about it all. The news was always filled with Loki now, and how he was conquering the world. Country after country was flocking to kneel under Loki’s rule. Otherwise, he was slaying every country that dared to defy him. Which soon brought them to heel, before they lost everyone.

Kelly was really jumpy, every noise right outside her room had her entire body going ridged, expecting the worst. It took her heart a while to stop racing after each noise. She knew she couldn’t carry on living like this, but she didn’t know what else to do.

Turning onto her side she curled up and cried herself to sleep, like she did every night. But her sleep was never peaceful, it was always laced with nightmares. Always of him. Most of the time, he was looming over her with her sisters’ body at his feet.

She woke up in a sweat, calling out for her sister. How she wished everything was just a nightmare, but no. She was living a nightmare.

Keeping on the move was her plan, so since she was awake anyway, even though it was only five in the morning, she decided to move on to the next place to stay. She had made it all the way up to Edinburgh by foot mainly but also a couple of bus trips. She just kept moving around from city to city, town to town. Wherever she could get to.

As Kelly made her way down the road, there was just a few people going about at that time of the morning. But she kept getting shivers down her spine, and not from the cold. It was like someone was watching her…

When she looked round over her shoulder, she caught a glimpse of a tall, black-haired man amongst a small crowd of early risers heading to work. Her heart started racing in fear, thinking it was Loki, she quickly moved on and walked as fast as she could. When she glanced back in the direction of the man, there was no sign of him anymore.

She tried to shake it off, thinking it had just been her imagination. Surely if it had been Loki, he would’ve made his presence more known.

But as she made her way further into the centre of the city, she still had a really bad feeling that she was being followed. So she rushed into the bus station and bought a ticket to head further North, maybe if she headed out of the cities and tried the quieter villages, she might be able to stay under the radar better.

Just before she was able to pay for her ticket, there was sudden screaming and panic within the station.

‘What the…’ She looked around in confusion, but then she felt pure dread run through her veins as she saw the reason for the panic and chaos.

Loki.

He had stormed into the station in his regal armour, the biggest grin formed on his face when he locked eyes on Kelly.

‘No…’ She gasped out quietly, her legs suddenly turned to jelly as she tried to run with the others that were panicking.

Loki made his way towards Kelly straight away, with large purposeful strides as he towered above everyone else that was scarpering around him in terror.

She started running for the back exit, but Loki reached out towards her and Kelly suddenly felt as if there was a collar around her neck that was suddenly pulling her backwards towards him. She brought her hands up to her neck but couldn’t feel anything there, but there was definitely something pulling her back.

She panicked and screamed as she was dragged back towards Loki, who had stopped and was just pulling her towards him. When she was within grabbing distance, the invisible collar disappeared and she felt like she could run again.

But she was within striking distance. And Loki struck like a snake, grabbing her he forced her to the nearest wall and pinned her against it, his large dominant hand wrapped around her neck firmly. Her lower lip was trembling in fear as he sneered down at her, she tried clawing at his arm but it was futile.

‘Mmmm, I finally found you.’ Loki hummed low and squeezed her neck a bit harder in warning when she continued trying to struggle.

‘Plea… please… Let me go.’ She stuttered out between trying to take big breaths, his hand controlling her breathing wasn’t making it easy to talk.

‘Oh no, my little pet. You should be begging for my forgiveness, for that little stunt of running away from me. You have no idea how much of an inconvenience it was when I came to collect you, to find you gone. Ungrateful mortal.’ He growled, squeezing her neck again for a few seconds, making her splutter.

He could see the pure fear in her eyes.

‘However.’ He purred, easing up a little on his grip he rubbed his thumb up and down the side of her neck. ‘I wouldn’t be in the position I am now if it hadn’t been for you. And whilst I should punish you for being a naughty girl and disobeying me, I will give you the benefit of the doubt. This time. Because I know you’re my good girl really, aren’t you?’

Kelly closed her eyes and tried to tune him out. But of course, that could never happen.

‘Look at me!’ He demanded and squeezed her neck again, making her eyes fly open.

‘Maybe once I get you home, you’ll be more talkative. And I shall give you your reward, and finally claim what you owe me.’ His eyes darkened and he smirked, then leaned in and kissed her on the lips, despite her trying to move her head away to no avail.

She had no choice but to endure his lips moving against hers, he was surprisingly gentle, yet there was an urgency within him too. A very deep part of her was longing at his kiss, like it was a reminder of what she thought they once had… But she remembered that had all been fake, Loki had used her.

Loki pulled back slightly, licking his lips. ‘Now come, pet. Let me show you your new home.’ He grinned wickedly and released her neck.

But before she could even think about trying to run, a collar formed around her neck. Only this time it wasn’t invisible, she could feel it too with her hands as she tried pulling it off. There was a chain leash attached to it that Loki held, so she was going nowhere.

‘Come on.’ Loki growled and tugged her along as he headed out the main entrance.

When they stepped outside, some civilians that saw Loki started kneeling for him instantly. Some ran away. But Loki didn’t care about any of them, he had what he wanted.

Kelly couldn’t stop shaking and crying as Loki slipped his arm around her waist and held her in close, then teleported them both to the airport where Loki had a jet waiting for them. He hauled Kelly onto it, she wasn’t sure why she was even trying to still get away, she knew there was no chance.

Loki had the leash vanish, but the collar remained. As soon as it was off, she ran as far back in the jet as possible and cowered down in the corner. Loki chuckled and took a seat near the front, looking very pleased with himself.

‘There is a much comfier seat down here for you, pet. It might be a bumpy ride.’ Loki called back to her as the jet started off down the runway.

But Kelly was quite happy where she was, as far away from Loki as she possibly could be between some seats. Though she knew it wouldn’t be for long, the jet was already taking off into the sky. She didn’t know exactly where home was for Loki. She really didn’t want to know.

‘You know, it has been ok since I’ve been ruling your world. Not quite as fun and exciting as I had originally hoped, but I realised it’s been because I’ve been chasing you. Now that I’ve found you, the real fun can begin.’ Loki said casually as he opened a bag of salted nuts.

Kelly shivered at his tone and words, she didn’t want to know what he meant by that.

It only took half an hour to get to their destination. But it had felt more like ten hours for Kelly, with Loki trying to make small talk the whole way there, as if nothing was wrong. As if she was there of her own accord.

‘Isn’t this a delightful sight.’ Loki chuckled, looking out of the window.

Kelly was curious as to where she was. So she slowly moved onto her knees and leaned up on one of the seats to look out the window. Her eyes widened at what she saw.

They were coming to land in New York, but it wasn’t the New York she remembered.

For starters, where The Statue Of Liberty should be, was replaced with a ten times larger statue of Loki himself. Then as they headed into the city, where the Avengers tower used to be, a new tower was built. But it was much larger too, and on the side of it was Loki’s name in bright gold letters.

‘No… No.’ She sobbed and put her hand over her mouth in horror.

[notsowrites]

to stay here forever

this is a prompt from @dreamthingpdf “if Alex goes undercover into deep sky Michael will be worried about him and possibly move his airstream onto Alex’s lot” 

(and i apologize because i think this only fills like half the prompt, but it’s 1200 words of michael missing alex, and malex being... malex)

----------

Moving his trailer in front of Alex's house was an easy decision. He'd made a similar choice all those months ago for Maria, when she'd been sleeping at the Pony, waiting for Mimi to come home. Now though, Michael had a vague idea of where Alex was - he just didn't have specifics. There were no details to be shared, because Alex was off the grid.

And Michael hated it.

It reminded him too much of the days, nights, months, and years he'd spent worrying about Alex while he was active combat. Though these days, it wasn't a secret no one talked about, he could share his frustrations with Isobel, or let Maria tease him about missing Alex. Even if right now, he and Alex weren't anything - friends, maybe - there was still a stubborn part of him that remained hopeful. That perhaps one day the two of them could find their way back to each other.

Alex leaving on his crusade to clean up his father's messes had aggravated Michael, that even in death, Alex couldn't be completely free of the man. And he'd seen the determination in Alex's eyes, the chance one-up his father and do better, to learn more. And Michael knew there was no stopping him - Alex was going to do what he felt was right.

But it'd been months, and the radio silence was starting to wane on him. Michael found that immersing himself in Alex's life, staying outside his house, watering his plants and maintaining the yard while he was gone only made him miss Alex more. Having a key tested his restraint with each passing day as he resisted making himself at home in Alex's space.

"Doesn't Maria usually do this for you?"

"I don't want to add to the things she has to worry about - she's already dealing with her mom, and controlling her visions."

For weeks, Michael has clocked the guitar propped up against the wall in Alex's office, the soft black case and it's I'M WITH THE BAND sticker all too familiar. But he leaves it alone, doesn't give in to the itch to pick it up and play. After all, he made the decision to give it back to Alex. To tell him be didn't want it, even when Alex thought he'd want to play again.

And Michael hates that he was right. He misses music, he misses playing. He misses the low vibration in the tips of his fingers as he played the chords. But it's been too long, and he's here, surrounded by Alex's life, and he picks up the guitar case, gently placing it on the desk to unzip it.

The guitar, of course, looks exactly how Michael remembers, and a quick run of his fingers across the strings confirms it's been well cared for over the years. The strings are in tune, nothing needs to be tightened or adjusted, and Michael lifts it out to hold in his hands, to remember the feeling of playing, to allow himself to get lost in the melody of the music.

He hums a song, fragments of a tune he doesn't know the full words to. But that's okay, he doesn't need them. It's enough to close his eyes and remember that day, and how far he's come since then.

"Did you memorize the part you heard?" 

Alex's voice startles him, and Michael realizes how distracted he'd allowed himself to become as he played, internally cursing how dangerous such an action could be, and he moves to slide the guitar back in it's case.

"Shit," Alex says, stepping towards him. "You didn't have to stop."

Michael shrugs. "I never heard the whole thing."

Alex looks good - his hair is longer than Michael remembers, but its disheveled like Alex's been running his fingers through it without a care in the world for appearances. He's wearing a black leather jacket, and a grey knit sweater underneath, and Michael can't help but wonder if it feels as soft as it looks, if he reached out and touched it, if Alex would let him. If it wasn't constantly playing on repeat in his head that they aren't anything at the moment, Michael would kiss him.

Instead he zips up the guitar case, and returns it to it's place.

"You moved your trailer?"

"It was easier."

Alex hums, glancing outside the window before looking back at him. "The couch there is a fold-out, you know. You didn't have to go through that trouble for me."

"It wasn't - I wanted to." He stands up, his gaze shifting past Alex. He'll leave, get out of Alex's way. Surely he's tired and wants to rest after whatever he was dealing with for so long, and Michael won't be in his way. Alex can decide what to share with him, whatever he's learned. "I'll just get out of your way."

Alex is quiet as he grabs his hat from the kitchen counter and makes a beeline for the front door, nearly tripping on the duffle bag on the floor in the hallway. It's his own fault really, he's not looking where he's going, and he doesn't belong here in Alex's space, when Alex is here. He's overstepped his welcome because he wasn't meant to do more than water the plants.

"Michael," Alex calls out just as he's pulling the door open, appearing in the hallway. "Don't you want to hear what I found?"

"I - yeah, but - you just got back. Don't you want some time alone?"

He watches Alex shake his head, and take a step towards him.

"I've been alone for months now." Michael hadn't considered the idea that Alex was tired of being alone. "And-"

Alex pauses abruptly, as though he had second thoughts about what he wanted to say. But the action only made Michael more curious.

"Alex?"

He watches as Alex fidgets for a moment, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth, shifting on his good foot.

"The house smells like you. When I walked in, it was like-" Alex pauses, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. "It made me happy to be home."

He has to leave. He needs to walk out that door, because Alex can't just say things like that and think it's okay. That it doesn't hit Michael straight in the heart to know that Alex associates that with him, and something good. He can't do that - because it's hope, and hoping for anything has never led to a good result for him. 

But fuck, does he want. 

"What are we doing, Alex?"

Unconsciously, they drift together in the space of the hallway, until they're close enough for Alex to take the hat off Michael's head and drop it on the table next to them.

"I did a lot of thinking these last couple months, and I want to tell you about it. And I want us to-" Alex stops, a hand reaching forward, fingers gently pressed against his chest near his heart, the uncertainty evident, as though he's not certain he's allowed to touch. "It's still you I want to be with, Michael."

Caution be damned, Michael leans forward and kisses Alex, pressing their lips together and remembering how perfect it feels to do so. His arms snake around Alex's waist holding onto him, pulling him close, as he feels Alex's hands slide up his neck into his hair. It's perfect, it's everything, and he doesn't want it to stop. But he has to, they have to, because he knows that as nice and easy as it would be to fall into bed together, to strip themselves of their clothes and feel skin against skin - they need to take this slow. They need to talk. 

No more old patterns to fall into.

Michael pulls his lips away from Alex's, but keeps their foreheads pressed tight.

"Tell me what you've been up to."

He sees the upturn of Alex's mouth in the corner of his eye. "Will you stay the night?"

His reply is easy. "Yes."

[danniburgh]

Formalities and Introductions (a RushBit one shot)

Pairing: Javier Peña x ofc//f!reader with name.

Summary: It's mother's day and you get to meet Javier's mom.

Word count: +2k

Chapter warnings: mentions of death and dead people and nostalgia.

A/N: This is canon RushBit after the main story,  it will make sense once we throw ourselves into it. I just wanted to commemorate Mother's Day with this.

ao3 // fic index // Masterlist

comments and reblogs are eternally appreciated 💓 let me know if you wanna be tagged

May 9th, 1996.

You turned on the driveway and pulled over; when you turned off the car and grabbed your bag from the co-pilot’s seat, you felt your smile creep up on your face again and you tried to hide it, unsuccessfully.

You got out of the car and immediately the big black ball of hair that was Pepe ran out of Chucho’s house and you crouched to greet the old pup.

“Hi, good boy,” you cooed to him as his large tail formed whiplashes around the space “where are our men?” you asked him, standing up. The dog huffed and turned around to walk back to Chucho’s house.

You followed him and walked in. The first thing that welcomed you was the stern voices of two men arguing in spanish. You walked behind Pepe into the kitchen and crossed your arms over your chest, leaning against the arch frame of the entrance, neither of them seemed to notice you.

“No, viejo terco, no,” (stubborn old man) Javier chastised from the chair he was sitting on, his back to you, as Chucho chopped something on the counter, his back to Javier.

“Is that the way to talk to your dad?” you asked out loud, Javier seemed to wince and turned around to see you.

“It’s my dad,” he replied, Chucho chuckled, turning around to wink at you and to clean his hands with the kitchen towel hanging on his shoulder “I talk to him how I want to.”

“No, you don’t, shut up.” you teased, Javier smirked and took the can of beer that was resting on the table in front of him and took a gulp. Chucho sat next to him as you left your bag on the opposite chair.

“How’d it go?” Javier asked, watching you walk to the fridge and take out the water jug and make your quick way to the dish rack for a glass.

“I hate the DMV,” you mumbled, pouring the water on the glass and placing it in front of Javier, along with a kiss on his temple, “I got yelled by a lady trying to cut in line,” you chuckled and Chucho followed, you left the jug on the table and took the beer can from Javier’s hand, “but I got it.”

“Hey that’s mine,” Javier frowned as you walked to the sink and left the can there, “show it to me.”

“Was, drink your water,” you said, Chucho chuckled again and shook his head when Javier let out a huff, he knew better than to say something at that point, he knew how much you cared about Javier, “I even got surprised, I don’t look half bad in the photo.” you raised your eyebrows as you walked to the chair, took your bag and rummaged around it, finding the small plastic rectangle and handing it to Javier when you sat down.

“Half bad? you look gorgeous.” Javier mumbled, Chucho leaned to the side and Javier handed it to him.

“You do, Florecita.” Chucho said, smiling at you.

“Well thank you,” you smiled back at him, “with that driver’s license I’m officially a citizen of Texas.” you rolled your eyes and Javier frowned in feigned hurt.

“What’s wrong with Texas?” he said as you took the license from Chucho’s hand.

“I’m not saying there’s something wrong with it.” you shrugged, taking the water glass you had put in front of him and taking a sip of the cold water.

“You’re suggesting it.” he narrowed his eyes with that shit-eating grin of his.

“I’m not! what do you care? you hate Texas.” you rolled your eyes again and Javier faked a gasp.

“I don’t hate it, I’m just not fond of it.” he let out, taking out a laugh out of you. Chucho muttered something along the lines of chamacos locos (crazy kids) and stood up to resume his chopping.

“And yet you’re making me live here,” you chuckled out and Javier just shrugged, “what are you cooking, suegro?” you asked, and Javier took the glass from your hand to drink out of it.

“Meatloaf,” Chucho replied “Javi, remember to pick up the flowers in the morning.” he said without turning.

“Yeah.”

“What flowers?” you asked Javier.

“Tomorrow’s mother’s day.” he let out, moving on the chair to face you better.

“I thought it was this sunday,” you narrowed your eyes until your brain remembered that the holiday was celebrated on the tenth in México, “oh shit.”

“Oh shit indeed,” Javier teased, knowing you just had to remember it, his hand snaked on the table to take yours “we’re gonna go see mom,” he muttered “wanna come?”

Javier felt a bit nervous asking you that; to go with him and his dad to the cemetery and look at a tombstone he hadn’t seen for a long time.

He didn’t talk about his mom often, because it all reminded him of the last time he saw her and the image of his smiling mother tortured him more than do him any good; he spent a long time of his adult years wondering if the choices he was making would disappoint the woman that had birthed him and wrapped him in so much love since the first minute he was on earth; he spent most of his life thinking what would his mother say if she found out what he was doing or why. And he still needed to work on restoring the memory of his mother in his mind, because she would smack him on the nape if she knew he avoided talking about her at all.

He saw your eyes, wrapped in that warm kindness that had settled in them since you had moved in with him and decided to stay by his side; he knew you wouldn’t say no, but he still had to ask.

“Sure, you don’t have to ask me.” you said, Javier nodded and gave you a tight lip smile and turned to his dad.

“You need help, pop?”

“No.”

Javier padded inside the room when you got out of the ensuite, towel drying your hair, he walked around the bed, sat on the edge of the edge of his side, his back to you, and picked up the book you two were reading before falling asleep.

“You ok?” you asked him, he hummed in affirmation while looking around the nightstand, “you sure?” you asked him again, he turned his face to look at you and saw you with your eyes narrowed as you threw the towel in the hamper.

“I’m fine.” he said, following you as you walked to the dresser and picked up his glasses, you shook your head slowly and sat next to him, handing the glasses to him.

“Liar, liar.”

He scoffed when you stood up and walked around to your side; he stood up as well, and you began that half put together routine you had before bed; pulling down the covers, throwing some pillows on the bed’s end bench and climbing on the bed to snuggle together right in the middle of the mattress.

“Do I have to ask you again?” you muttered, resting your head on his shoulder as he picked up the book. He sighed and shuffled to face you.

“I haven’t been to her grave since I left.” he mumbled.

“I don’t think she judges you for it.” you let out, he chuckled humorlessly.

“You didn’t know her,” he said, “she does.”

“I don’t know her because you won’t talk to me about her,” you whispered and Javier sighed again, you turned your head to face him, he was already looking at you. “I understand it’s hard, but I’d like to know about her.”

Javier looked at you without saying a thing for a few seconds. His hand reached to your cheek and he nodded a few times.

“Ask away.” he whispered, you gave him a smile that he could only classify as the smile of a curious child and it made his chest turn around with love.

May 10th, 1996.

The bouquet was heavy, but you insisted on carrying it yourself, the smell of the pink carnations invaded your nostrils as Javier’s hand gripped yours in that entangled mess that was your fingers when you held hands.

“Por acá.” Chucho said, he was guiding you both through the narrow dirt paths of the Laredo’s Cemetery, Javier was helping you not step on any graves out of respect, he had said.

“I’m nervous,” you mumbled, Javier snorted “I’m about to meet your mom, I’m nervous.”

Javier let out a nostalgic chuckle.

“You met her last night.” he reminded, you smiled, remembering him abandoning the book when you started asking what you wanted to know about his mom; where was she born, when, where she grew up, how did she like to be called, her favorite kind of music, how she used to call him when he was a kid; all the things you didn’t know.

The ones you did, Javier was not the one to tell them to you, it was Chucho; your non-father in law loved when you were in a curious mood because you nagged him until you got responses, and from him you had learned her name, how did they meet, when they got married and how did she die.

But you were eager to learn Javier’s perspective about his mom, because Chucho spoke about her with all the love and devotion of a husband, a man that knew her soul and her body; but Javier knew her kindness and her protective side.

And you loved every bit of her he handed you, it made her more real and it was as if you knew her too. Or at least part of her.

“So carnations were her favorites?” you asked him in a low voice, Chucho turning right on another path.

“Yeah, those and jacarandas,” he replied with a smile, you turned to see him and smiled at him “but those don’t grow here.”

“Isn’t Guadalajara filled with those trees?” you asked, almost in a rethory, remembering the brief time you spent in that city and seeing the streets filled with purple little flowers, Javier nodded.

“I saw some of those in Colombia too, most of them in Medellín,” he mumbled, gripping your hand tighter absentmindedly, it was still hard for both of you to talk about Colombia, but it was harder for him “reminded me of her.”

Chucho stopped in front of a white tombstone, on each side there were two stone vases with some half-dead flowers on them and he took his hat off, you looked at Javier and he breathed in heavily, you handed him the bouquet and he gave you half a smile.

“Hola, mi amor.” Chucho let out, “happy mother’s day” his usual stern tone faded and you felt a tight knot in the middle of your chest and bit your lip.

“Here, pop,” Javier undid the bouquet and gave him half the carnations, “hola, mami,” he whispered to it and you just saw them moving silently around the grave, you stood there, in front of the gravestone.

Margarita García de Peña. Beloved wife and mother. 1926 - 1967

The two men in front of you took out the dead flowers and put the carnations in the vases, Chucho stood there, a hand on the cold stone and started whispering to it.

Javier walked to you and you opened your arm for him to settle around.

“She was so young.” you said, he nodded.

“She had me young.” he mumbled, you rested your head on his shoulder.

“Gracias.” you whispered. He looked at you with half a frown and saw you looking at the grave.

Javier huffed and shook his head with a soft smile adorning his face; he tugged you to him and wrapped you inside his arms, you put your arms around his waist and Javier kissed your temple.

“She would’ve loved you.” he murmured on your skin.

“She loved you.” you said, making him hug you tighter.

Javi's babies: @pulplorrd​

let me know if you wanna be removed :)

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[male-reader-requests]

Dog Days Pt. 2

Pairings: Mirio Togata x Male!Reader

Word Count: 1,893

Warnings: Second installment! Slightly angsty I guess, I could not remember for the life of me where I was going with this considering it's been 2 months but you know, is what it is. It does have a very small bit of potential sexual harassment, so that's a warning there, but nothing actually happens!

-

Midoriya felt horrible. 

Mirio was still in the middle of his fight, fighting pretty playfully to tire out Tenya, but the green-haired male was hoping for him to finish faster. 

He'd been talking to himself, normal, and it had been about (M/N). Said male had gotten curious and came over to question him and Midoriya had freaked out. 

Really he hadn't meant to! He'd been so absorbed into his own world that he hadn't noticed that (M/N) had gotten so close until he'd tugged at his uniform!

Midoriya was still on the floor, laying down this time as he looked at the ceiling as if it was the thing causing all his problems. He had wanted to talk to (M/N), to understand his quirk a bit better, and get to know the tall male. (M/N) was dating Mirio, and Midoriya loved Mirio like a brother so he wanted to know his significant other. Then he'd gone and fucked up. 

Tilting his head a bit Midoriya could see that (M/N) was sitting in the corner of the room, relaxed against the wall with one knee propped up. He looked quite calm actually, but he was glaring harshly at the floor.

Midoriya had struggled with himself enough to recognize that (M/N) was beating himself up mentally, that he was replaying the encounter over and over again to see what he'd done wrong and could have done better, but there was nothing.

(M/N) had done nothing wrong, Midoriya was just jumpy and had reacted badly. 

Midoriya felt horrible and knew he should approach the other male and apologize, but he couldn't find the strength to drag himself up. What if (M/N) reacted badly to Midoriya approaching him? What if he didn't accept the apology and was pissed? Was he pissed?

Midoriya was working himself up, mumbling again. But before his own mumbling could get too loud he noticed someone else was mumbling. Not very many people had a habit like that in the class. Confused he looked over (M/N) to see if it was him, but he was just sitting against the wall with his chin against his chest, mouth and nose buried in his jacket collar.

Midoriya looked around a bit more, going from person to person only to find nothing. Confused he sat up, trying to get a better angle of everything, and this time he found purple in the form of Mineta. He was partially in the shadows, this stupid grin resting on his face, a stupid grin that Midoriya, unfortunately, knew very well.

The girls could all take care of themselves, Mineta was more or less just annoying, and the guys had all given up trying to reprimand him. Well, Tenya still tried but that was just part of his personality.

Mineta was currently eyeing up Jirou, who was still quite out of it due to (M/N)'s venom. It was of no surprise really that Mineta would go after her. (M/N) had explained to all of them beforehand that his venom in the small dose he used would make them sleepy and pliant, having a fuzzy memory of everything after it had worn off. So it was no surprise that Mineta was going after the one girl that wouldn't remember it very well. 

Midoriya moved to stand up, but out of the corner of his eyes he saw that (M/N) was slowly getting up. The tall male was leaning against the wall still, but he had his feet under him so he was crouched down, his eyes still closed. As Midoriya looked at him in curiosity he watched as those red eyes moved about, tracking something.

Belatedly he realized the taller male was tracking Mineta who had his back turned to (M/N). His face was against the wall, he looked relaxed, but Midoriya knew the signs of tensing muscles. 

He was moving slowly to stand up, close to the wall in a way you could only ever expect of a spider. 

Once he stood up completely (M/N) was terrifying. He was taller than everyone else in the class, and while only being dressed in jeans and a hoodie he looked almost like a villain. Is that why he'd freaked out earlier?

(M/N)'s hands were trailing on the wall as he walked forward, silent as a free hand stuffed into his hoodie pocket pulled out the gun he used for his venom. 

(M/M) was an all-over fighter, he could do short-range or long-range, but with long-range he couldn't use his venom which could incapacitate someone with one hit. With that in mind, the support class had made him a little gun he could load with his venom to use so he could inject it in a better way.

Midoriya looked around, looking to see if anyone else had noticed but everyone was watching Mirio and Tenya fight. He watched as (M/N) pulled the little vile that held the venom out, holding it against elongated canine teeth the collect the venom much like people do with snakes. 

It only took a second or two for the vile to fill up, for (M/N) to be standing right behind Mineta.

He crouched down, still towering over the purple male, but Mineta finally seemed to realize something was wrong. Midoriya watched as he shakily looked up, meeting a mass of red and (E/C) eyes looking down at him.

Mineta tried to scream, (M/N) clamping a hand over his mouth with a light shushing sound.

Midoriya looked around again, but everyone was ignoring what was happening. He seemed to be the only one who had noticed, the only one close enough to hear the two of them.

Two of (M/N)'s hands come out into Mineta's sight, one holding the gun, the other holding the vile. 

"You know what's in this?" he whispered, shaking the little vile of (F/C) venom. Mineta nodded erratically, trying to squirm out of (M/N)'s grip but was unable to move. 

"Then you know what would happen if I injected more than I should, right?" Mineta nodded again, tears almost coming to his eyes.

Midoriya went back to earlier this afternoon again, to when (M/N) had been explaining his abilities. His venom was always a set amount, half an ML mixed with some solution to be injected via needle darts from his gun. It caused exhaustion basically, zapping anyone hit of their energy.

He'd told them that he would only use more if absolutely necessary, mostly due to Bakugo saying he was more resilient than the rest of them, but had proceeded to tell them what would happen if he used more.

It was still safe between 1 and 3 ML, depending on the persons size and their health records, but once you got past that it got dangerous. He had a Neurotoxic Venom, the kind that was used to paralyze prey in actual spiders. 

He had explained that the general dose, besides the memory haze, would cause muscle spasms, cramps, twitching, sweating, drooling, and gooseflesh. As the dose got larger it would start to cause painful abdominal cramps, strange sensations, unstable blood pressure, and severe pain in the limbs.

Then, with a blush that rivaled Mina's hair, he had said in rare cases it could cause damage to Autonomic effects, such as temperature control, digestion, bladder control, and unfortunately sexual function. Basically, if he gave a bigger dose than safe he could cause any of the males to get a painful erection. He'd sighed after that, filling a little vile with his venom to show them all the color of it so they'd recognize it. 

Coming back to himself Midoriya's eyes focused again, looking to (M/N) and Mineta who had been talking softly. Or (M/N) had been talking with Mineta nodding along the best he could. 

(M/N) pulled back after a second or two of silence, putting the gun back in his pocket but keeping a firm hand over Mineta's mouth.

"Now I suggest you find a new hobby or you'll end up confused and dazed, not having any memory of the next 12 hours," (M/N) smiled lightly, head tilting a bit to the side, "You understand, right?"

Mineta nodded aggressively again, (M/N) smile getting larger before patting him on the back, standing up, and moving away from him. Midoriya watched Mineta for a second or two more before looking back to (M/N), flinching when he locked eyes with him.

(M/N) was just standing there, partially in the shadows staring at him. It was horrifying.

"(M/N)!" a voice called out, Mirio coming into the room with a shining smile.

Immediately all of the murderous intent left (M/N)'s system, a soft smile so different from the one a few minutes ago coming to his face. He looked exhausted, he had before but now even more so. 

Mirio came over, talking excitedly and waving his hands around, gently elbowing the taller male in the ribs as he laughed at something. (M/N) didn't say anything, just smiled and nodded, ruffling blond hair when he had to leave for his next fight.

Mirio's smile fell once (M/N) was out on the field, turning to look at Midoriya instead of his boyfriend through the glass.

"What happened?" he asked, face void of the happiness it had shown with seconds before. Now he just looked concerned, confused and concerned.

"I don't really know," Midoriya started, rubbing at the back of his neck as he looked at the ground. "I'd gotten lost in thought so he'd startled me when he tugged on my shirt and then he scared Mineta when he was creeping on Jirou.

Mirio sighed, looking back to the glass that protected them from the fight happening below. (M/N) was fighting Mina, the pink girl easy to spot against the mass of rubble around them. She was laughing, struggling to breath as she slapped her thighs. Mirio smiled lightly at that, (M/N) had said some dumb joke in order to distract her. Partial for the fight and partial for himself.

"Yeah that's (M/N)," he chuckled softly, watching as the young girl fell over, laughing so much she was crying with (M/N) frantically crouched over her, clearing panicking as if he'd done something wrong. "He's always nice to everyone, easily excitable but he's also pretty awkward."

Mirio then let out a slightly forced laugh, rubbing at the back of his neck. "He's also always been someone who acts, so if Mineta was being a creap then I can't really blame (M/N)." 

Midoriya nodded, watching as Mina struggled to get up, (M/N) helping her the best he could with their height difference.

Maybe he'd just caught (M/N) on a bad day? Hopefully, they could be friends, or at least get along.